THE NOVELIST.

Daily Telegraph (Napier), Issue 3906, 26 January 1884, Page 1 (Supplement)

THE NOVELIST.

TEH LASS THAT LOVED A SAILOR. A STORY OF HIGHLANDS AND DEEP SEAS. BY MAJOR ALFEED BOCHEFOET. CHAPTER XIII. T.O3X ! From the first the fate of the Gull was seoled. From the first every man on board —two excepted—thought of nothing but saving themselves. Thcso two men were Archy Ross, who had been left in command of the sloop, and the prisoner Donald Kyle. Tho latter sought; to restore order, and if possible to save the Gull, but the guards, without paying any heed to his voice or example, leaped into the only remaining boat, and made for the shore. Ostensibly the Gull was in the carrying trade between Holland and Scotland, and no effort was therefore made toconcoul such articles as were not dutiable. At this time there was a quantity of illuminating oil and blasting powder on bonrd ; and the fire was caused by one of tho guards letting his lamp fall, as he was searching for brandy for the use of himself and companions. ' Come, Master Donald, never mind the sloop, but let us make for the *hore!' cried Archy Ross, as he eeized Donald's arm, and led him back from the hatchway, up which the flames now shot, as if propelled by some tremendous power in the hold. ' It is Kenneth's vessel, all lie has left,' said Donald. ' And if we could save it —' ' But we can't, sir ! See, I have thrown two spars over, let us after them and they'll bear us to shore.' Accustomed to think in the midst of danger and to grow cooler as others became excited, Donald soon saw that it was folly to attempt to save the ship, and that if he would save himself he must at once do as Archy Ross suggested. ' Jump over, Archy, and I will follow; I must bo the last to leave the ship, though I'm not in command. Quick, my man, for the hold seems to be full of combustibles !' Donald enforced his command by seizing Archy Ross and half flinging him over the side of the , vessel. This act was seen by tho coast-guard-men, now making for the shore. Seeing that Archy came to tho surface, and was striking for land, Donald Kyle plunged in after him. He took the leap not a moment too soon. Scarcely had he struck the water, when the fire in the hold communicated with tho powder, and a terrific explosion followed. Kenneth Kyle, with Dugald more, and as many men as could get into the boat, was pulling for the burning vessel when tho awful explosion came. .For nearly a minute the air was full of flaming fragments and coils of blazing cordnge that hissed across the black face of the sky liko fiery serpents, then fell like extinguished rockets into the sea. The men in the boat stopped rowing and turned their awed faces to the scene. The women and children crowding on tho ehoro sent up a cry of horror, that survived the awful thunder of the explosion, and echoed along the rocks long after, like the screams of returning eagles that find their nests broken and their young gone. ' Ho, save Master Donald ! save Master Donald!' shriekod Mother Tavish, seizing a blazing brand that had fallen at her feet, and waving it in a circle above her head, Kenneth hoard the old woman, but her urging could not increase his efforts or add to his anxiety. The flaming rigging fell about his boat, like a monstrous net, and made it impossible for tho men to ply their oars, till after superhuman efforts and the uso of their j knives they had freed themselves from the cordage. By the. time they had released their blades, tho floating fragments of tho wreck made progress nearly impossible. 'I fear, Master Kenneth,' said one of the men, ' that's it's no usetryin*. Them that's saved is saved, an' them that isn't no power can help.' Kenneth heard tho man, and though ho fearfully realised tho truth of what was said, he did not seem to heed it. .Hieing in the storn of tho boat, ho made a trumpet of his hands, and shouted : 'Donald! Donald! Ho, Donald Kyle! Brother! Brother!' The men in the boat sat still as death. The women and children on the shore husbed their cries, and all turned their awed faces to the sea, to catch the hoped-for responso. But the whistling of the wind, overhead in the crngs, and the roar of tho recoding tide, beating against tho bhek rncks at tho mouth of the inlet, were the only answor. Out past the rocks the boat went, and I ever and anon the men rested on their oars, ' while Kenneth called to the soa for: his brother. Again beacon fires burned on the black headland, and the boat moved back and forth over tho sea, and Kenneth's hoareo voice sent tip the heart-broken cry of ' Brother ! Brother !' But no response came from the deep. And the red sun, blazing over Dornach Head, dimmed the beacon fires. And tho people, gathered by the strand, watched tho boat in which Kenneth Kyle and his weary companions came back from their fruitless senrch. All through , tho night Mother Tavish had paced the • shore, scarce uttering a word, though tho women about her were wailing, and the men, who threw all the blame on the guards, were loud in their imprecations. ' Whore is tho Laird o' Dornach ?' cried Mother Tavish, when tho boat canie within hearing. ' Lost! lost! lost!' replied Dugald more. ' Lost ?' ' Master Donald lost ?' A wail that could only come from breaking hearts went up. : . ■ Strong men sat on the sands and wept like children. With cries of agony, mpthors caught their little ones to their heartb and broke into the death cry so peculiar to the Celt ie people Ami Kenneth sat clown on a spar that the morning tide had drifted in. from the sea—a spar of his own chip, and he bowed his head on his hands. ' . ; But his eyos were dry and hig lips were j silent, . ' 'Tis a great grief, Master Kenneth,' he heard a sweet, sad voice whispering beside him. ' But dinna give way to the despair o' the heart.' It's the will o'the Lord, Master Kenneth ; look up.' . ' 1 My fault, Katrine,' lie said, with a choking sob, but ho did not look up. 'It is all my fault,' and the ctirae bs on mo.' 1 It was no your fnult,' sho said. ' Dinna say that, for ye'd a died to save him.' 'Would to God we could exchange places ; but my repentance comes too late.' 'Who are yon, and what brings you hero ?' cried Mothor Tavish, as Squire Graham and the lieutenant suddenly appeared in their midst. ■ '■ flam a magistrate,' said the squire, with assumed calmneas. 'And this gentleman is an'officcr in her majesty's marine service.' . 'Graham o' tho Grange,' said Mother Tavish, coming nearer and bonding over his dumpy figure till her face was within a foot of his, ' my ainly sister died cursin' your father, an' though the curse has been long a comin' it'll fall on.your head. 1 . Yer rich, but yer money was wrung from the hearts o' the poor; ,an' yer strong, but yer strength will ! depart. They say you own the lands o , the lords o'. Dornach, an' thatye'd wed the Lady Ellen; but tho lands '11 never be in yer keepin', an , the lady will never be yer wife. Yell dio with no one to inherit your stealings ; an' yell leave no one,.thank God, to continue your cruel raco. 1 ' Hark you, woman !' exclaimed the squire,

' One word more unci I'll put you in nrresfc, , ' Dare but to lay a hand on me, , said the old woman, drawing herself up, 'an' the hands q' a Tavish will be red, for the first time, with the blood o' a Graham !' 'We didn't come here to talk with this old woman,' said the lieutenant, drawing his sword. ' Why, then, hare you come ?' askod Kenneth, rising and approaching the officer. ' To find Kenneth Kyle,' was the reply, ' That is my name.' ' You are Kyle, of the Gull ?' ' I am Kyle'of Kyle Castle.' 'But you command that vessel ?' ' I had that honor ; but why ask all the questions ? You know me, have known me since I was a boy.' ' Thero are certain forms,' said the wary officer, ' Mint it is necessary to carry out in the interests of the service.' ' Consider them carried out, Now, what do you want with me ?' ' I came to arrest you.' ' To arrest me ?' 'Yes.' ' On what charge ?' • On the charge of smuggling.' 'Then you have a warrant for my arrest? , 1 1 have ; here it is, , said the officer, producing the paper in question and tendering it to Kenneth. . 'I'll take it for granted that the warrant is in due form ; now, sir, who mnkes the charge of smuggling against me ?' ' Why, you do not deny it!' 'If you were a judge, Lieutenant, I might answer that question ; but as it is, I shall neither deny nor confess. What I asked, and I hare a right to an answer, is, who prefers the charge ?' The lieutenant glanced nervously at the squire, and then at the warrant, which he still held in his trembling hand. 'Do you fear to answer ?' asked Kenneth. ' No.' ' Then, who makes this charge ?' ' Squire Graham,' coughed the lieutenant. 'Yes,' stammered tho squire,' I preferred the charge. An', to avoid mair questions, I'll say, right noo, that I decline to give my reasons. If I dinna prove it on the trial, then call me a perjurer.' ' We'll no wait for the trial to call you a perjurer,' broke in Mother Tavish. ' Ye'ro that noo.' ' That ho is, an' as black-hearted a ono as ever put the Guid Book to his lips,' added old Tom. ' Master Kenneth,' said Dngald more, in his quiet way, ' you know that me an' all tho men o'Dornach. Head are on your side an , ready to dee for ye.' ' F am sure of that, Bugald. , 'Then pie the lads the word, and we'll dofy all the Grahams north o' tho Grampian Hills, or south of it either, to make you a prisoner.' ' No, no,' said Kenneth. 'It is better I should go.' In the meantime Lieutenant Graham had drawn back and placed a whistle to his lips, on which he blew a shrill blast. In an instant a score of men, uniformed as coast-guards and armed with rifles, appeared on the cliffs above. ' Now make a resistance at your peril,' said tho licntenant, again drawing his sword. ' I call all these people to witness,' said Kenneth, ' that I have made no resistance. I am ready to go with yon.' The indignant people would have rushed between Kenneth and the armed men, who now marched down the defile, but he waved them back, saying: ' For my sake, not now. . The guards formed quickly about him, and, with bowed hoad, Kenneth Kyle ascended the cliff. The peoplo of Dornach Head were too crushed to move. Only one followed the prisoner, and that wae Katrine Tavieh. CHAPTER XIV. KYLE CASTLB TURNED INTO A PIIISOK. Under the laws of Scotland, which in [ many respects are different from those of England, any residenco or other strong building may be turned into a prison, for the time being, if tho committing ofljcer desires it. The nearest jail to Dornach Head is at Tain, nearly forty miles away, and until the prisoner was committed for trial by jury, the squire thought it better to keep him close to hand. At first ho thought ho would have the lieutenant take Kenneth Kyle to tho Grange, but, after some deliberation, ho changed his jnind. As they mai-cbed away from the shore, he riding his cob by the lieutenant's side, he said : ' On reflection, Lieutenant, I think it'll be better to take this follow to Kylo Castle.' 'Why, that's where his mother and his sister are,' said the lieutenant. ' Weel, lean make matters right with the old lady. Indeed, sho can't think that Graham o , tho Grange can do anything wrong.' ' But tho young lady, Squire ?' ' I'm no forgetting her. Of course, she'll lenrn that Kenneth is a prisoner, even if we take him to the Grange. , 'It will bo impossible to keop that from her.' 'And, then, if I had him a prisoner there I'd have to feed him an' the guards, an , I dinna care to stand tho trouble an , expense. • ' But the Government will pay you for the trouble,' said the lieutenant, disgusted at tho squire's meanness, though he was by no means a liberal man himself. 'I care not for that. An', then, I may eny, I want a good excuse to be frequent at the castle. The people there will need watchin'. Ye have the foreign women under guard, I beliero ?' 'Yes. I cannot releaso them without orders, for my instructions were to make prisoners Kenneth Kylo and all persons found on board the Gull, lam euro that this Miss Mansfield and her servant are all they represent themsolves to bo. But what can I do other fhan I havo ?' 'Nothing,' said the squire. 'Ordersie orders. But what think you o , tho loss 0* Donald Kyle? , ' It is startling.' 'Startling ! There's no word in tho language to express it. Did you heal? what tho men that escaped the firosaid ?' ' I cannot recall all of it.' 'But you beerd them cay that it was Donald Kyle that set fire to the sloop ?' 'That's what they report.' ' An'do you doot it ?' ' I see no reason to.' 'An' you heerd them say that, as they were fieein' for their lives from the ship, they chanced to glance back, like Lot's wifo when the family was fleein , fra the cities o' sin, on which the fire was aboot to pour down ?' ' I heard them say they looked back.' ■'An' you remember what they said they saw on that occasion■?'■ ' Tuey saw the ship blowing up,' said tho lieutenant, surprised at this catechism. ' But what did they Bay they saw just bofore that?' : ' I cannot recall. ' ' It's' strange that you should forget the most surprising thing of all.' 'I must confess I was much confused at tho time, , said the lieutenant, in excuse* for his bad memory. ! ' Did they no say that they saw with their am eyes Donald Kylo taking Archy Boss by the throat with his loft hand, while ho struck him with something bright that he held in the right hand, and that then they beheld him throw the body o , the mur- j dered man into the sea ?' ■ ' j ' ' Yes. They said they saw Donald Kyle fling a man into the sea, and then leap in, just as the explosion came.' ■■■■■■''■■■■■■ 'They said just what I said. I must get them over to the Grange and make them repeat tho story, so that at the: proper timo they'll bo able to give it in evidence.' ; ' Eridenco against whom ?' i " 'Against Donald Kyle,' :

' But he is dead j and the law only tries living men.' 1 How do you know he's dead ?' ' I have only the same reasons for my belief that you and the people at Dornach Head have.' ' Well, I thought he was dead after the wreck o' the Petrel, but, lo and behold, as the dominie says, back comes Donald Kyle just when I had his sister reconciled, I'll no believe him dead till I see him hangin' fra a rope, or his body lying stretched before me. , ' If dead, his body will be washed ashore ; if living, he will hardly dare to come back— that is, if it can be proved that he set fire to the sloop and killed Archy Ross. , 'There'll be no trouble in proving that. I'll see the men, an , talk to them over an' over aboot it till it can't leave their memory. Then let Donald Kyle come back if ho dare. Ah ! here we are at the custle ; and may I be shot! if there isn't that hag, Mother Tavish, before us. If shod lived a whilo back she'd be drowned for a witch ; an' I'm sorry, that'the law isn't still in force. , 'lho news of tho burning of the Gull, and of the loss of Donald, had reached the castlo the night before ; and poor Ellen, broken clown already with watching and anxiety, was prostrated with the news. Mother Tavish, by taking a rough but more direct road, in addition to the fact that she travelled faster, was enabled to rench tho castle in advance of tho prisoner and guards. Sho told Sandy M'lntyre the old butler, of the capture of Kenneth, and that they were taking him to tho castle ; and Sandy hastened with the nows to his distracted young mistress. After the hoavy blows that had fallen on her gentle heart, Ellen could not feel the torture of this lighter one. She was talking to her mother when old Snndy came in with the last news. Lady Kylo did not seem to realise tho calamity that had come to her. Ncarlyallher faculties,but that which supported her excessive vanity, were weak and shuttered. She thought that the continued absence of Donald was directly duo to tho wreck of tho Petrel, and that ho had, for some reason of his own, and in a way inconceivable to her, gone to sea again. ' Why worry ?' sho said to Ellen. ' Wo fretted ourselves nearly into tho grave before, and I wept till my complexion was nearly ruined, but they came back again. Dear me, I wish there were no ships and ho sea ; it would be much more comfortable.' ' But Master Kenneth is a prisonor,' sobbed old Sandy. ' A prisoner ?' she repeated, and sho stroked her brow with her palsied, beringed fingers. ' Yes, my lady.' ' Where is he a prisoner ?' 'He'sapproachingthe castlo wi' the guards an' the Grahams.' ' What Grahams, Sandy ? Do bo clearer. Why can't people express themselves in thcso days so that one can understand ? I'm sure it was ,not so when I was a girl. Let mo see—what were we talking about, Sandy ?' ' Master Kenneth is a prisoner wi' Squire Graham an'—' 'Oh! with the squire he's safe. You know, Sandy, I now look on the squire as one of my family. Ellen, my dear, do not sit thero moping like a ghost in a damp cellar, but go and change your dress. Do you not know that tho squire is coming? He's to be your husband, and you must always meet him with a smile and a welcome. , Ellen, ooiild bear to hear no more. ' The filial instinct could not be driven from her heart. The old mother, in her vanity and dotage, could do nothing that would chill tho noblo girl's sense of duty and deep affection, but it is possible to exhaust these admirable virtues for tho moment. Ellen ran out to meet Kenneth, and as she passed Captain Bell's room she heard May Mansfield reading to him. She had not yet told her guests of her fresh troubles. •You appear to bo in a big hurry, Miss Kyle ; anything that I can give you a lift with this morning ?' This was shoutad after Ellen in a high, shrill voice; and before she could reply, Sophronia Arlpin was by her side. ' There is more trouble ; but thanks, you cannot help me, , said Ellen, still keeping on. c When folks is in trouble —leastwise it's so over to Boating, and I do gqess it'o 'bout tho same all the world ovoi , —tlien's when they most neod help. Land sakes! how pale you do look, to bo sure !' The latter part of this speech was delivered when they had reached the court-yard, where tho guards were now drawn up with the prisoner in their midst. 'Why, if thero aint Captain Kenneth! Captain Kenneth, how do you do ?' And Sophronia, pushing tho guards to ono side in tho most unceremonious way, rushed in and seized Kermoth by tho hand. ' Stop back, thero, woman !' cried Lieutenont Graham, motioning her away with his sword ; ' that man is a prisoner.' ' Land sakes! why, you do look nigh as big as a tailor's 'prentice on trainin' day, with that ere sword j and I gucseye're just 'bout as dangerous. My gran'ther had one of them things to hum, that ho took from one of your gran'thora at tho immortal field of Saratogy. But, como to look you over, I don't believe that you ever had a gran'ther that could fight.' ' Hold, woman, or I'll put you under arrest, too !' shouted tho amazed squire. ' And pray, Mr Lobsterfaco, neow, who mout you be ?' asked the unabashed Sophronia. ' I am Squire Graham ; a magistrate,' 'Dv tell; and so youVp the kind of thing they mako magistratps of in Scotland, eh ? i Land sakes, how I do pity folks that's so short of magisterial material. Butyoudaro to lay your hand on mo, and I'll tear you into tho smallest kind of tatters, and trample the remnants under foot. Tctch a hair of my head, and our American ships will como over and blow this end of Scotland ou*; into the middle of the broad Atlantic —where of old—' ' Sophronia !' • . . 'Yes, Miss May.' 'Come here,' Attracted by the noise, May had looked out the window, and seeing tho group below she guessed at tho situation. She hastened down, in time to check the impetuous Sophronia, and then came over and, putting her arm about Ellen's waist, she whispered : ; ; 'I think I know the trouble ; do not lose heart. , .. . ■■....... • ; ~ : . Ellen whisperod to her that Donald was gone, and she trembled so, while she epoko, that had not May supported hor she would have fallen. ' You know, Miss Ellen,' said the squire, giving his horso to one of the guards to hold, and approaching her with a showof deference, mingled with a coarse familiarity that was so natural to him, ' that I am a magistrate ?' As Ellen mado no attempt at reply, he . continued: ' Lieutenant Graham had an order to arrest Kenneth and take him before a magistrate, and so I was called in, as I'm the only | magistrate for miles around —'■ | ' An , a shamo it is,' broko in Mother ' Tavish. . ' ' An' so,' kept on the squire, ' I decided to j bring him hero to Kylo Castlo for the present, | whero ho'll bo near lo his friends, an' whero I can keep an eyo on him, as a matter o , form, of course' ' Neow, that would be a first-rate arrange* menfc,' said Sophronia, 'if so be tho governor of this State only appointed some one to keep an eye on you. I'm some on readin' human natur, I am, and if you won't bear as much watchin' as any man in Scotland, then, in my humble opinion, Scotland is just 'bout ono of tho best countries in the world to get eout of as soon as possible.' Again May interposed, and Sophronia bit her lip and stamped her foot in a way

that showed eho was not in a tractable mood. Aftor Bomo talking, during which tho squire tried to figure as a mutual friend, it was decided that Kenneth should be kept under guard in ono of tho many unoccupied rooms on the ground floor of the castle. Eight men were left to do guard duty, under the command of Rob Black, a tool of the squirc'a, whom the reader will remember. Their orders were to permit no person to talk with tho prisoner without the permission of the lieutenant. This done, tho squire and his cousin, with the other guard?, went away. 'My poor sister, , said Kenneth, as he kissed Ellen before entering the room that vms to bo his prison, ' it is I who have brought nil this trouble to you, and, I fear, brought about the death of our noble brother.' May Mansfield led Ellen away, but Katrine Tavish, without being observed by tho guards, slipped into the gloomy apartment ahead of Kenneth and concealed herself till he had eniered and Kob Black had locked tho door. Kenneth, who knew that she had followed him, and who fully appreciated tho noble girl's devotion, was not surprised at finding her here. 'Dinna make a noise,' eho snid. 'I wanted to t.ilk to you where nane could overbear, for I will save you. , 'It is 100 late now, Katrine, , ho said, kissing her. 'It is not too late. Here, take this,' she said, pushing the dagger—which wns held in a scabbard—inside the breast, of his coat. ' I cannot uso this, , he said. ' But keep it; thciv may bo uso. I'll come back tho night, an' I'll got the guards drunk ; but if ye'd flee, there's no so much need for that. I can leave here, an' them oot thero not know it.' ' Then do leave, bonny Katrine, for I fenr your being found hore with me.' ' I have no fear, , sho said. ' Noo I'll gang awa an' pcrfact the plans, an' I'll bo back again tho night.' And Katrine turned and was swallowed up in the shadows. CHAPTER XV. FRO 51 THE DEPTHS. Donald Kylo's had been a life of danger. Ho had been a soldier, and a good ono. But soldiers mako notoriously bad sailors, and the most intelligent of thorn have a straneo superstition that they in some way may lose honor if they aro drowned. The bravest soldier is never reckless of his life. It is to him as precious as life is to any man unless a great good can be done in risking it. The soldier and sailor naturally prefer to face danger, if danger be inevitable, on the element with which they aro most familiar. A man will fight hard for his friend. He will, fight harder for his country. Harder still for his religion, if he be religious. Bub ho will struggle hardest of all to save his own life, if he be a single man, or the lives of his wife and children, if ho is married. Donald Kyle spent his boyhood and youth by the shore of the soa. , He was young, strong, cool and fearless. Between the time of his plunging beneath the waters of the inlet and his coming to the surface again the explosion had taken place on the Gull. Ho heard and understood it while still under water, for ifris. a curious fact that water conducts sound nearly ns well as air. A gasp on tho surface, and ho sank again to avoid the rain of firo and missiles. When ho camo up a second time it was to discover that the undertow had carried him out near the rocks at the movith of the inlet, and fully an eighth of a mile from tho place where tho fishers of Dornach Head wore congregated. He tried to cling to tho rocks, but they were so slippery with sea-moss ho found it impossible to get a hold that would sustain him. . : He recalled that Archy Ross had thrown over two spars, and now, in tho hope of finding them, ho shouted to Archy, but tho roar of tho receding lido around tho rocks mado his voico inaudible. There was nothing left but to swim for it till help or death oamo. Now his admirable training in coolncts was brought into play. : He know that if he became excited ho could not swim to advantage. And he realised that if he tried to swim to the shore, along which he could now see tho lights flashing, he would exhaust himself, and go down. Everything depended on husbanding his Strength. If notseized with cramp, he felt that ho could keep afloat without much physical exertion till exhausted withcold and hungor. He found his boots in the way, so ho coolly pulled them off, as ho did his coat, which was very heavy. If the water were as warm as a man's blood, a good swimmer could keep afloat for about as long as he could remain awako on land. But the water of tho ocean, oven in the tropics, never reaches a hundred degrees ; and in the North Sea is but rarely exceede fifty degrees, even under an August sun. • Donald Kyle's Indian experience had somewhat impaired his constitution, which had been perfected under tho cold. Ho had to exert himself, after a time, to keep from being chilled to death. ■ , His teeth chattered with the cold, and I when ho heard his name called—away in the far distance—ho.could only send: back a' feeblo reply. ■ It was Kenneth searching for him, and — j most-cruel of all—he know it. He felt himself becoming weaker at every Btroko, and ho wondered how long ho could last. Ec cvon asked himself if it was worth whilo to continuo the effort. But ho was not of tho raco to succumb while there is any strength left. At length he began to feel drowsy, ns men always do when ovorcome with, excessive cold. With drowsiness camor indifference, and that languor which, providentially, precedes death. Ho kept his arms and feet in motion mechanically. Ho hardly knew, or cared, why he moved. : • At length, and just as ho seemed to be dropping off into a pleasant, dreamy sleep, something struck his head and roused him. It wasno gentle tap, but ablow that brought the blood, and with it, and a fuller apprecia- | tion of awful situation. ■ Ho reached out his hand, and—joy!—it came in contact with a ponderous floating substance. i It was a large part of the deck of the Gull. He seized it at once, and, nftor some effort, succeeded in drawing himself up. : It was a ruft that would have floated five ! men like him. He felt it, to make sure of its stronglh and floating power, and assured that both wore adequate, he crept into tho centre of tho ! raft. Strong man though he was, and nuich as he had to light for, this last effort completely exhausted him. He lay down, and his eyes closed, and ho became indifferent to life or doath. How long he lay thero ho never could tell, It seemed to him—as timo Beoms to tlioso who arc suffering—that ho had boon an ago swimming boforo ho reached tho raft.. When lie awoke, \i A'as to hear loud voices and thp sound of dashing oars near by. H3oponed his heavy eyelids, and saw the I sun was fully three hours high, and that'a I boat, urged by strong rowers, was approach--1 ing. He sat up, and now ho could see a fishing sloop near by, and in tho dim distance the blue outline of .a coast; '• ■ I ' Hello!' shouted a man in tho bow of the approaching boat. ' Where do you comefrom ?' (For continuation see next page.)

Donald tried to reply, but could not. From the appearance of the men and the peculiar cheer they sent up when they sawlie was alive, Donald knew the sailors were of his own nationality. The men proved to be fishers from Croninrty, a coast village about fourteen miles to the south of Dornach Frith. They took Donald on board their boat and rowed him to'thesloop, where everything they had that could add to his comfort was placed at his disposal. When they learned his name their hearts went out to him, not because ho was the lord of Dornach, but because he was the brother of Kennotli Kyle, whose name and fame had become household matters with the fishermen of the North Sea. These men were poor, yet they gave up their herring fishing, which promised to be better than ever before, and took Donald to land. He had no money to reward them, but they would not have taken a penny had he been the richest man in tho world ; and not only this, but they secured a man and a cart, and paid him in advance to take Donald Kyle — or ' the laird o' Dornach,' as they persisted in calling him—as far as he chose to go. It was late in the evening when Donald started for tho north in the car, and, as the road was rough, lie only rode for two hours. When it became dark lie dismissed tho driver and started back on foot, saying that he could make better speed in that way, and taking the man's name, so as to reward him another time. It was midnight when he came within sight of Kyle Castle, and seeing a light burning, he thought at first that he would go thero. A light was always kept burning in the highest room in the highest tower, a custom retained from the old days when tho lords of Kyle Castle kept lamps burning for the guidance of ships at sea. 'They are all asleep at the castle,' he reasoned, ' and I will not disturb Ellen and her guests at this hour. 'There is never a time when there is not somo one awake down at the cliffs, and, then, they know everything that is guing on there. I will seek out Mother Tavish.' It was a bright, stnr-lit night, so that he had no difficulty in making his way. He was Hearing the path that led down to the dwellings of the fishers, when his attention was arrested by hearing earnest voices directly in front. It did not take long to discover that the people wore MothcrTavish and her daughter, Katrine. He could hear tho latter saying, as he come nearer: ' I gied Master Kenneth the chance to escape, but he would no accept it.' ' It was wrnnp in you, girl, to go near him without first tellin'mo, that's yer mither, o' yer purpose. But what did the puir young man say ?' 'He said he'd no flee from the trial, an'that he did no fear it,' said Katrine. ' An' he seems to be broken doon, yo say ?' 'Yes. He speaks ever o . Master Donulfc. Whiles he cries to think that the laird o' Dornaeh'sdcad. An' then hceecms to cheer up, an , say that, after all, it's better that Donalt's no alive.' 'An' why should ho think that way ?' 1 Because o' the charge.' ' The charge, hinny ?' 'Yes, the charge o' murther. Dinna ye ken a , that ?' 'Not dearly, Katrine. Ye eec, I'm that daft wi' the tilings that has took place, that I canna see where any one has been tnurthered, unless it's puir Miss Ellen, an' she'll be murthered without doot if some one does no make 'way wi' Graham o' the Grange. , ' They cay that Master Donalt kilt Archy Ross, an' llingged the body into the sea. But it's a 100, mither—-a black lee! , said Katrine, earnestly. ' A horrible lie!' said Donald Kyle, advancing from the darkness. ' And, Mother Tavish, I am back to disprove it!' (to be continued.)