Act III. But when morning came the birds had flown the cage. There was

neither a Martha nor a Julia in the little farmhouse, while at the court of Queen Anne a certain _Lady Harriet_ and her maid _Nancy_ were congratulating themselves that, after all, an old fop named _Sir Tristan of Mikleford_ had had sense enough to be in waiting with a carriage near the farmhouse at midnight and helped them escape through the window. It even is not unlikely that within a week the _Lady Harriet_, who was so anxious not to have her escapade become known, might have been relating it at court as a merry adventure and that _Nancy_ might have been doing the same in the servants' hall. But unbeknown to the others, there had been a fifth person in the little farmhouse, none other than Dan Cupid, who had hidden himself, perhaps behind the clock, and from this vantage place of concealment had discharged arrows, not at random, but straight at the hearts of two young women and two young men. And they had not recovered from their wounds. The _Lady Harriet_ no longer was bored; she was sad; and even _Nancy_ had lost her sprightliness. The two men, one of them so courteous despite his peasant garb, the other sturdy and commanding, with whom their adventure had begun at the Richmond fair and ended after midnight at the farmhouse, had brought some zest into their lives; they were so different from the smooth, insincere courtiers by whom the _Lady Harriet_ had been surrounded and from the men servants who aped their masters and with whom _Nancy_ had been thrown when she was not with her ladyship. The simple fact is that the _Lady Harriet_ and _Nancy_, without being certain of it themselves, were in love, her ladyship with _Lionel_ and _Nancy_ with _Plunkett_. Of course, there was the difference in station between _Lady Harriet_ and _Lionel_. But he had the touch of innate breeding that made her at times forget that he was a peasant while she was a lady of title. As for _Nancy_ and _Plunkett_, that lively young woman felt that she needed just such a strong hand as his to keep her out of mischief. And so it happened that the diversions of the court again palled upon them and that, when a great hunt was organized in which the court ladies were asked to join, the _Lady Harriet_, although she looked most dapper in her hunting costume, found the sport without zest and soon wandered off into the forest solitudes.

Here, too, it chanced that _Lionel_, in much the same state of mind and heart as her ladyship, was wandering, when, suddenly looking up, he saw a young huntress in whom, in spite of her different costume, he recognized the "Martha" over whose disappearance he had been grieving. But she was torn by conflicting feelings. However her heart might go out toward _Lionel_, her pride of birth still rebelled against permitting a peasant to address words of love to her. "You are mistaken. I do not know you!" she exclaimed. And when he first appealed to her in passionate accents and then in anger began to upbraid her for denying her identity to him who was by law her master, she cried out for help, bringing not only _Sir Tristan_ but the entire hunting train to her side. Noting the deference with which she was treated and hearing her called "My Lady," _Lionel_ now perceived the trick that had been played upon himself and _Plunkett_ at the fair. Infuriated at the heartless deceit of which he was a victim, he protested: "But if she accepted earnest money from me, if she bound herself to serve me for a year----"

He was interrupted by a shout of laughter from the bystanders, and the _Lady Harriet_, quickly profiting by the incredulity with which his words were received, exclaimed:

"I never have laid eyes on him before. He is a madman and should be apprehended!"

Immediately _Lionel_ was surrounded and might have been roughly handled, had not my lady herself, moved partly by pity, partly by a deeper feeling that kept asserting itself in spite of all, begged that he be kindly treated.