THE NOVELIST.

Daily Telegraph (Napier), Issue 3918, 9 February 1884, Page 5 (Supplement)

THE NOVELIST.

TBS LASS THAT LOVED A SAILOR. A STORY OF HIGHLANDS AND DEEP SEAS. BY. MAJoIt ALFIIED BOCUEFORT. CHAPTER XIX. A PEOPO3AL AND ACCEPTANCE. 'The squire says he must see you, Miss Ellen,' said old Sandy MTntyre, 'an' he talks as if it was a matter of life an' death wi' him. ' Then tell him to meet me at once in the j butler's room,' said Ellen. The butler's room, atljoining the hall in which Kenneth and Captain Bell were, had not been used for a century for the purpose designated by its name. When thesquire and Ellen met thoy had no idea that what they were about to say could be overheard by any one but themselves. There was nothing further from Captain Bell's mind than to play the eavesdropper. He did not even know that there were people in the adjoining room against the door of which his'back rested, till his attention was attracted by hearing Ellen's voice demanding : ' Why, sir, do you wish to see meat this time ?' Thought the captain, as he placed his ear closer to the door : ' I must bear this out.' Feeling that he was the master of the situation, as much as lie was the owner of tho estate, Squire Graham motioned to Ellen to sit down, and replied : 'If I had not a quid reason, Ellen, I do not think I'd put myself 'or joiimol' to any mair bother; ' for I'll confess my exertions, the day, have wearied me much. But sit doon.' Ellen obeyed, but sho did not take the seat near him to which be pointed. 'Is there more trouble ?' she asked, with a sigli of resignation. ' Weel, as to the trooble,' said the squire, ' that depends on how we look at it, an' what we intend doin' to betther it.' ' You must be plainer, Squire Graham.' ' Aje ; I'm ever a plain man, an' I doot not but you'll think me quite plain enough before we're through wi' this conversation—' He stopped, took a handkerchief from the crown of his hat and mopped his forehead, after which he looked at her, as if he expected her to say something. lUlen made no comment, but sat with her eyes downcast and her hands folded. 'You must bo very happy to know,'ho continued, ' that Donalt's no drooned as was expected—' Ellen started, and now she did look at him. ' Oh, dinna fear for me,' ho said, with a dumb laugh. ' I'm as eager as you may be that no disgrace shall come to the family o' K.yle.' 'No disgraco can come to us,' she said, quietly. 1 That depends on what we think is disgrace. Maisfc people would think it a disgraco to have ono son charged wi' smugglin' an' anither a fugitive in hiding to avoid arrest for murther —' * Fquiro Graham,' said Ellen, rising. ' I cannot sit still and hear you talk in this way. Did you send for mo to insult me ?' ' I sent for ye, Ellen, that I might befriend you.' 'I do net want friendship that comes in such a form.' ' Weel, ye must be tho judge o' that yerself—' ' Then, sir, I shall leave you.' ' I'll no try to stop you ; only ye'd better hear me, if not for your am, for Donalt's sake, before you leave the room.' ' What has Donald to do with it ?' 1 I'll tell you, if you sit doon again.' Ellon resumed the seat from which she had risen, and the squire continued : 'Donalt Kylo is now in hiding doon at Mither Tavish's under the cliffs ; do innocent men keep in hiding ?' ' Did you see him ?' ' I did.' ' Where ?' 'Talkin' wi' tho old woman in the doorway —' Then the fact that you saw him proves that he could not be in hiding.' 'Ye'd make a quid lawyer, Miss Ellen; but I'll no orgy wi' ye aboot things that havo no benrin' on the case. Tho lang an' the short o' it is—Donalt is charged with murther, an' there is a warrant oot for his arrest.' ' Who mnkes tho charge ?' 'That's a fair question enough, and I'll answer it in form. I canna depend on my memory in such mntthcrs, so I carry the papers to prove what I say.' The squire again dived into his hat, and from the ample crown thereof he drew a number of papers. Selecting one, he unfolded it with much deliberation, and assuming a judicial air, he continued : ' This is a warrant for the arrest of Donalt Kyle, late captain in her majesty's Ingy sarvice. The warrant authorises the bearer to take Donalt Kyle aforesaid, dead or alive —' 1 But the charge ?' interrupted Ellen. ' The charge is sworn to by the eye-wit-nesses o' tho crime—there's five o' them, namely, to wit: Alexander Black, Ronald Hume, John Cambpell*—' ' Never mind the names. What do theso men swear to ?' ' They Bwcar that tho aforesaid Donald Kyle sot fire to the sloop Gull when it was in tho possession of her majesty's officers, an' him a prisoner. An' they further swear that they saw Donald Kylo murtherin' one Archy Ross, an' flinging the body o' the sumo into Dornach Firth.' 'And you believe that?' ' I'm no tryin' tho case ; an' as [ may be a witness when Donalt is tried for his life I diniia care to express in opinion. But if you ask me what'll be the consequence if Donald Kyle is arrested and tried, I'll tell ' I do ask it.' 'An' I reply that your blither will bo hangod as sure as your name is Ellen Kylo an' that you aro sitting there before my twa oyes,' said the squire, striking the papers against his hacd to give force to his cruel words. ' And is it to tell me this that you have come?' '. To tell you this, an' to present a plan that will save a Kyle o' Dornach from the disgrace o' death on the gallows.' ' But, if he is in the power of the law, who can save him ?' ' I can.' ''You?' ' Yes ; I, Graham o' the Grange, for Donalt's not yet in the power o' the law. I can take him to a place of safety till his innoence —if, indeed, he be innocent—is established. An' I can also wipo away the charges against Kenneth, so that he'll walk the airth a free man again ; and ho must either do that, or wear the dress o' a convict an' be sent beyant tho sea for ever an' ever, till he dies.' 'If you can save my brothers and avert this'disgracc, why, then, do you not do it ?' asked Ellen, eagerly. ' I Want to do that, but it all depends on you.* 'On me?' 'Yes, on you, Ellen Kyle. And not only that, but tho life an' comfort V the old mither, an' the very roof that makes you a home, all depends on your doin' what I say.'' 'What is that?' ' lou must become my wife,' ' Have I not tojd you that I would give you my hand to save the estate if "my brothers consented ?' sobbed Ellon. 'You canna wait for the consento' men I that are either prisoners or dare not show their faces. Whatever is donomust bo dono i at once.' 'At onco!' she echoed.

'Aye, you must consent to bo my wife before the 6iin readies high noon the morrow—' ' To-morrow ?' ' That's what I said.' ' But surely you would not havo me marry under such circumstances ?' ' Tho marriage '11 change the circumstances ; an' thero will be happiness where now there's sadness.' Ho then went on to say that she must meet him at the Grange the following morning. Ho would have the license ready and the clergyman there. ' Though,' lie added,' there's no need for a clergyman, for under tho laws of Scothnd if we stand up before witnesses an' I cull you wife an' you call me husband, that, marriage will bo bindin' an' valid tho world over.' ' I must havo time to think,' said the distracted girl, burying her while face in her hands. ' I will give you ten minutes,' said the squire, pulling out his watch and gazing steadily at the face. Of Donald's innocence Ellen Kyle had no more doubt than sho had of her own. Still she believed that his position was dangerous and that the squire did not exaggerate his own power. So far as a heart so gentle and noble could hate, she hated this man. From his first talk of lovo she had loathed him, and even the sound of his low-bred voice came to her like a horror. Marringo with such a man would be worse than a daily death, yet, love for her brothers and mothor, and for the ruined old castle of her ancestors, urged her on to make tho «acriflce. While her heart wa3 untouched by love this sacrifice seemed easier than now. Before the coming of Captain Bell indifferenco to nipn made tho contemplated marriage :nurc-cncufrable. She could draw no comfort, from the fact that her lovo for the handsome young captain was hopeless. The impossible did not destroy the yearning at her heart, nor still tho imaginings of what might have been. She chicled herself for thinking of hor own desires. She felt that one of the family must suffer to save the others, and if this had been left to her choice, under any circumstances, she would have taken on her own shoulders the burden that sho must carry to the grave. 'Have you made up your mind yet?' asked the squire, as he returned the watch to his pocket. ' Give me till to-morrow to think,' she said, piteously. Before to-morrow Donalt may be a prisoner.' ' Then give me an hour.' ' Not anither minute!' said the squire, rising with tho manner of a man who had made up his mind and is not to be shaken. ' At the Grange in the morning, did you say?' ' At. tho Grange, at eight to-morrow morning, I'll send a carriage for you.' ' Do not do that.' ' Then a saddle-horse ?' 'No.' ' Will you walk ?' ' I'll bo at the Grange at eight to-morrow morning.' And having said this, Ellen Kylo, with a white, frightened face, rushed from the room. The squiro went out, and mounting his cob, he rode away. He was now as sure of his wife as ho was of his life. CHAPTER XX. ANOTHER AMERICAN PUTS IN AN APPEARANCE. At seven o'clock tho following morning Ellen Kyle entered the old lumbering carriage, that was drivon by Sandy M'lntyre, and drove over to the Grange. Sho was back again at tho castle at a quarter to nine, her lips bloodless and her face like marble. ' You have had an early drive, my dear,' said May Mansfield, meeting her and kissing her. ' I had to go,' said Ellen, shuddering as if with cold, though tho day was warm. 'For their sakes I had to go.' May did not understand this, and she was too well bred to ask for an explanation. But she did see the white face, and the bloodless lips, and the hunted look that filled the beautiful eyes. ' You are very ill, my poor Ellen,' she said, kissing her again. ' These trials are breaking you down. You need rest.' ' Yes, May. But in my life there will never be time for that. Only in the grave can I hopo for it.' The rattle of wheels in the court-yard, and a wild cry from Sophronia, who was standing by the window, started the young ladies. ' What is the matter, Sophronia ?' asked May. ' Matter, Miss May ! Land sakes alive ! he's nrrore !' ' What do you mean ?' ' Your fathor—down there—l can't wait!' And with her scant 6andy hair flowing wildly about her sharp face, Sophronia ran down to the court-yard, where tho carriage had now come to n halt. May followed her maid as quickly as possible, but the instant she reached the courtyard sho was caught in the arms of a tall, handsome gentleman, who called her : ' My daughter ! My darling May !' and who rained kisses and tears on her face. It was Mr Man-mold, from Boston, and with him wero the American consul at Aberdeen and another gentloman, a high official at Edinburgh, 'Where is Bell?' asked Mr Mansfield. 'Brave follow, I do not blamo him for the loss of the ship. My only regret about it is tho loss of the crew.' ' Captoin Bell has been very sick,' said May, still climiing to her father's arm. ' So I hoard in Edinburgh. Take me to him at once,' said Mr Mansfield. ' Cnpting Bell, of Boeting,' broke in Sophronia, 'is, at this present, identical moment, a prez'ner in the castle of tho tyrant.' 'A prisoner!' exclaimed Mr. Mansfield. 'A prez'ner for darin' to knock down two fellers that insultod ladies—me among 'em —and given him no end of back sass. If the American govor'ment lets this pass without war, then Jare wo the degenerate sons of noble and patriotic an—' 'Hush, Sophronia; here's a gentleman about to explain,' said Mr Mansfield, as Lieutenant Graham, hat in hand, stood bowing and cringing before Sir Archibald Wilson, the attorney of the Crown for northern Scotland. ' A shipwrecked sailor made prisoner '? What means this, sir ?' asked the Jindignant official, addreseing Graham. ' Yes, sir ; an that same sneakin' feller lias made me and Miss May prez'ners ; and he's forbid our leaving this old tumble-down, second-hand castle!' 'I am quite willing to explain in the presenco of Captain Bell,' stammered the lieutenant, and he pointed to the apartment in which the prisoners wero confined. But, in the meantime, Captain Bell had heard the carriage and tho talking, and looking out he saw Mr Mansfield. Rob Black tried to stop tho captain as he leaped through the door, and got knocked down for his trouble. Tho meeting between Captain Bell and Mr Mansfield was as affecting as if they had been father and son. By this timo Ellen came down, and was introduced by May, who spoke ot her as endearingly as if she were a sister, and Mr Mansfield met her as cordially as if they had been old friends. The company adjourned to the old-fashi-oned and but little used parlor; and here Lleutohant Graham proceeded to explain his conduct at somo length. ' And,' said Sir Archibald Wilson, ' you chose, on your own responsibility, to arrest the passengers instead of the crow of the sloop, as you wero directed ?' ' The crew ran away,' explained Graham. 'Why did not you run after them ?' ' I did ray best, sir, I was ordered to ar-

rest all persons found on the sloop, and I did so.' ' It is a great, pity that the authorities who gave you your commission could not. have given you judgment and sense at the same time. Where is Squire Graham, who seems to have been so willing to aid you in these disgraceful blunders ?' asked Sir Archibald. ' I think, sir, he's at the Grange' ' Find him, ond send him to me at once,' said Sir Archibald, who, it may be remarked, w.is an elderly gentleman, who, in its better days, had boon a frequent guest at Kyle Castle. Perceiving that it would be proper to leave Mr Mansfield alone with his daughter and the captain, Kllen said to Sir Archibald : 'I am sure, sir, my mother would be glad to sco you.' 'Thanks for the hint,' said the gallant gentleman. ' Let mo pay my respects at. once, for in our younger days Lady Kyle and I were very warm friends.' When they were in the hall, into which Lady Kyle's room opened, Sir Archibald took Ellen's hand in a fatherly way, and, leading her to a window, he said, in very kindly tones : 'It lias grieved me much, Ellen, to hear the stories that are afloat about your brothers. I do not want to believe anything bad aboot the handsome lads I've often hold on my knee. Before making any official inquiry, I wane to hear your story.' The gentle manner and the evidence of a sincere interest so touched Ellen that it was with difficulty she could control her emotions sufficiently to tell her sad story. She said nothing about herself, but sho defended Kenneth, whom she could not think capable of an intentional wrong. Sho told of Donald's return from India, and of the sad state in which he found tho family estate, and of his desperation at his poworlessncss to mako matters better. She told about tho wreck of the Petrel, and without making her brother's heroism vividly conspicuous, she related, in hor simple, frank way, what ho had done to rescue tho unfortunate people, and how he was kept a prisoner on board the Gull on his return. She kept back nothing except, what pertained to herself; and if she could only have known it, this was the most important part, and it would saved her many a heart-acho had she told him of her transactions with Squire Graham. Sir Archibald was evidently perplexed at what he had hoard, but ho mado no comment. Ellen led him to hor mother's room aftor this. They found the old lady seated in her dingy, gilded chair, dressed in her absurd way, and with her old-fashioned rings gloaming through meshes of her rusty lace mifcs. The old lady did not recognise Sir Archibald Wilson, but she could soe that he was a gentleman; so she roso and received him with a stately courtesy, even before °Ellen announced his name. ' Sir Archibald Wilson,' simpered Lady Kyle. 'Ah—yes. The truth is, sir, I have v severe cold, and I much fear that it has affected my memory.' Sir Archibald was a man of the world, and took in the situation at a glance. In the ruin before him, he saw the wreck of a once beautiful but very shallow lady. . The defects had survived the decay of the more superficial graces of person. This was evident to every one but Lady Kyle herself. ' I am Archy Wilson, of Inverness, that once came courting you,' said the gallant old gentleman, as ho took Lady Kyle's shrivelled fingers and touched them to the white beard that hid his lips. Lady Kyle gave a start and a little, simpering laugh, then said : ' Oh ! I remember now ; though it is very bard to remember all thoso who came a courting me. But you have changed a great deal.' And she adjusted her glasses and looked him over critically. * Yes, my lady ; time docs not deal kindly with us.' ' But time deals kindly with mo, Sir Archibald.' ' I am happy to hear that.' 'Oh, yes; and sometimes, you know, I have difficulty in convincing myself that I have aged a particle. It is only when I look about, me and sco that my children aro all old enough to bo married that I am forced to admit that I have lived so many years.' ' We should grow young again with our grand-children,' said Sir Archibald, who was himself a grandfather. ' And I expect to grow young in that way. Did Ellen tell you that she was engaged to be married ?' asked Lady Kylo, waving her fan at her daughter, who sat with her white face half averted. 'I am glad to hear that,' said Sir Archibald. ' May I ask who is the fortunate gentleman ?' 'Squiro Graham,' replied Lady Kyle. ' His family is not such as the lords of Dornach would have formed an alliance with fifty years ngo, but the truth is, our family needs money, and so I think the matoh a very desirable one, particularly as tho estates adjoin.' Sir Archibald looked from the mother to tho daughter, and compressed his lips. Ho knew Squire Graham well, and ho also know that tho mortgages on tho Kyle estate had bsen foreclosed. Lady Kyle's information and Ellen's manner convinced him thut if such a marriage took place it must be an awful sacrifice on tho young lady's part. Ho had himself married out of his station, and never had reason to repent it, for the motive of the marriage was love. Telling Lady Kylo that ho was going to stop with Lord I'unmoro for a week, and that he would call again, Sir Archibald Wilson left. CHAPTER XXI. WHAT BEFEL DONALD KYLE. By Sir Archibald Wilson's order*, Captain Bell, May Mansfield and Sophronia; Arlpin were released from arrest and left freo to go and come as they pleased. At first Mr Mansfield was for taking his daughter and friends to London, at once, and thence to America, but tho protests and reasoning of all three caused him to change his plan?. He was a generous man, of strong sympathies, and when he heard of the troubles of the gallant gentleman yyho had Eaved his daughter's life, he said, in his emphatic way : ' By Jove, May, you are right. It would be disgraceful to desert the bravo fellow who had risked his lifo for us. ..I have a hundred thousand dollars and a month's time which are at his service.' Tho village of Dornach was not far away, and Sandy M'lntyre, whoso experienoe of public houses was limited, declared that there was not in the three kingdoms a better inn than ' tho Dorn.ach'Arms,' in the village of Dornach, Here Mr Mansfield and tho captain decided to make their, headquarters. The former had not the slightest doubt about his daughter's going with him ; great, then, was his surprise when May asked : 'How far is the village of Dornach from here ?' Sandy M'lntyre replied that ifc was only a few miles. .'Then, fether,' said' May, 'you and the Captain can drive over three'or. four times a day to see how Sophronia and I are getting on. 'But bjess mo, why should vouwant to Stay ? asked the astonished Mr Mansfield. ' ' Because I have begged her to do so,' said J ni had ust come on fche scene - „ 0h > ?£■ cou rse, if you request it,' said Mr Mansfield, with a look'of mingled pity and admiration at the pained but still beautiful tace, that makes an entirely different mattor.. And now tlint I come to think it ovor, the presence of May here will give Bell and myself an excellent excuse for-running ovor whenever wo please, and I assure you that will be very often.' Mr Osborne, the American Consul, who bad accompanied Mr Mansfield, now. returned

■ from examining the curious old castle, a task he had set himself immediately after being introduced to the ladies. As the villago of Dornach was not far from the Grange, Sir Archibald Wilson asked to bo set, down there, from which point ho said he would walk over to Lord Dunmoro's place, Elton Hall, whither his baggage had preceded him. ' It was n great temptation for you to leave me,' said Ellen, kissing May Mansfield, as they watched the carriage roll away,'and had you gone you would have left me lonely and sad indeed.' May's affection for Ellen Kyle had grown to be like that sho would huve had for a beloved sister, had Heaven sent her one. She had become so deeply interested in the noble girl's situation and sore trials as to mako them, in a way, her own. And then she admired Kllen's patience and fidelity in nursing Captain Bell back to health and strength, and this at a timo when tho bravo girl believed that her own brothers were dead. It is possible that May half-guessed at this time that secret in Ellen's heart which she tried to hide from herself; but love would not be love if it could travel in disguise and without detection. It may be that May felt a littlo pain of jealousy at this, but she crushed it out as a profanity. Was not. Ellen Kyle Donald's sister, and had she not thought, more of that bravo fellow, since first meeting him, than sho over had of any human being in the same timo ? To bo sure, she induced herself to believe that this constant thinking about Donald Kyle was right and proper. Why should she not think of the brave man who had saved her from the grave ? Her life would be all to short, sho thought, to show her appreciation of tho noble act. While on the Petrel, coming from tho Azores, May Mansfield half imagined that she loved Captain Bell, and sho was of the same opinion now. But love is not, an uncertain matter, a subject for doubt, wonder and inquiry—certainly not with such a nature as May Mansfield's. The inexperienced, howover, frequently mistake admiration for lovo, but thoy aro as different as heat and light. Tho one has its source in the head and the other in tho heart. Before leaving the castle, Sir Archibald Wilson went to sco Kenneth and told him that charges of smuggling had been preferred against him by Squiro Graham, and that until theso charges were investigated ho must bo restrained of his liberty. '.But,' he said, 'whether tho charges aro truo or false, I havo faith enough in the word of a Kyle of Dornach to behove that when he makes a pledge he will keep it,.' ' I have never given any one reason to doubt my word,' said Kenneth, quietly. ' I believe you. Now you are to have the liberty of the castle, and I only ask that you make no attempt, to escape a trial.' ' Kir Archibald, I will pledge my word not to escape. Unpledged I would not attempt to escape, for I am not only ready but anxious for a trial. And when it comes off I think I can show that, the man who prefers this charge is himself guilty, and that if I have violated tho law ifc was done unwittingly at first and continually afterwards by his advice and representations,/ ' Say no more about that now. I will sco tho squire, and it is possible wo may avoid a trial altogether.' And with this Sir Archibald shook hands with Kenneth and left for tho Grange. But Lieutenant Graham, burning with anxiety to tell his cousin what, had transpired at the castle, preceded Sir Archibald by more than an hour. When the squire, who at first was in excellent spirits, heard of what had happened, he became so much excited that he drank several largo glasses of brandy to steady his nerves. Perhaps it was because be took tho liquor medicinally that he did not offer any to tho lieutenant. ' If Sir Archibald Wilson is at the oastle,' said the squire, calming down perceptibly, ' an' I soe na reason to doot one word that you have tolt me aboot it, he'll bo here bofore the night comes, an' that's namair than twa hoors away.' ' Don't you want to see him ?' asked the lieutenant. ' I'd as soon see the deevil at this time.' ' But why ?' 'Dinna ask me to explain.' < But, how can you avoid seeing him ?' ' That's an easy enough' matther. I'll gangoofcan' warn the servants to say, if any one calls, that I've gang away and won't bo back fill after midnight; an' if the caller asks wlioro I've ganged to, the sarvants' '11 be instructed to reply that they dinna ken.' The squire started out to coaoh his servants, and on his return ho proceeded to explain this queer conduct. Ifc said tl;at Sir Archibald was a friend of the Kyles, and that ho would do whatever he legally oould to keep the young man out of tho power, or, rather, the consequences of the law. Tho squire was vory sure that Sir Archibald, if ho knew where Donald Kylo was, would advise him to fly. ' Now, Lieutenant, Sir Archibald is a groat man, I'll admit, but he's no so great as the law, an' not half so powerful as the queen.' ' I presume not.' 'An' ye presliumc rightly. _sTow once n. prczner'a arrested on a charge o' breakin' tho law, even the queen could not free him iill he's tried, an' then she couldn't clear him ; she could only grant a pardon.' ' I bcliovo that's so,' said the lieutenant, his admiration for tho squire' 6 legal attainments rising every minute. ' Aye, faith, I ken tho law in tho matther, though I dinna pretend to be a scholard like Sir Archibald Wilson. But I am behint no magistrate in Scotland in knowledge o' my duties an' rights.' ' I am sure of that,' coughed the sycophant. ' Now,' continued the squire, ' five o' the coast-guards have made oath before mo that one, Donalt Kylo, set fire to the sloop Gul 1, a vessel in tho hands o' gover'ment officers, on', further, that the aforesaid Donald Kyle murder'd one, Archy Boss, an' flingt his body into the sea to hide the crime.' ' Ye-3 ; they swear to all that.' ' On their oaths I issued a warrant for the arrest o' Donalt Kyle, if he could bo found.' ' Ah, Squire, there's the pity; there's where the will of Heaven defeated justice.' ' What do you mean ?' asked fche squire. ' I mean Donalt Kyle was drowned in the sea into which he threw his victim.' ' Who tolt you bo ?' . ' Why, every one—you.' < Thon every one an' mysol Iced. Donalt Kylo is alive an' weel, an' he's noo in hidin' within four mile o' the Grange,' said tho squiro, with a dramatic manner, intensified by the brandy. ' How long has ho been here ?' asked the lieutenant;, when he could get his breath. ' I know not; but I discovered hire yesterday, when I was tryin' to capture that wild cheel, Katrine Tavish,' ' Why didn't you speak of ifc beforo ?' ' Because I had ither ends to carve..' ' And tlmy are served ?' 'Yes,'- -- Well, what do you propose to do now ?' ' I propose to do nothing.' ' Then he'll escape.' ' Not if you do your [duty aa weel as I'vq done mine.' • But what can I do ?' 'Arrest this man at once, Ah, thero goes Sir Archibald Wilson, ; The sarvanta tolt him I was awa—an' ao. I am, far enough fra hini. Now take a glas3 o' brandy,' said the squiro, pushing the bottle towards him. The lieutenant, in view of the important undertaking before him, drank a stiff glass and smacked his lips. 4 I'd better take a dozen men with mo,' he said. ' Yes, and start at once.. See—it is growing dark,' said the squire, pointing to the. (Forcontinuatipn see next page.) I

eastern sky and in tho direction of Dornach Head. Two hours had not passed after thiswhen Lieutenant Graham and a number of his men halted at the head of the path leading clown to the dwellings of tho fishers. -With their muskets in readiness they were about to descend, when the -wellknown voice of Mother lavish was heard calling out,: ' Who's up there ?' 'Lieutenant. Graham and twelre men,' was the answer. ' An' what want ye ?' 'We want Donald Kyle.' ' He's no here.' ' We know he is.' ' Then 000 m doon an' sarch at yer paril,' said the old woman. The shouting called out all tho fishers, and a hoarse, angry murmur wont up the cliffs. ' Hold !' cried Donald Kyle. 'Do not come clown ; I will go to you.' Mother Tnvish and Katrine sought to stay him, but Donald would not hear to it. ' I will bring no more trouble to my friends,' he said. ' I should have gone before of my own accord.' He walked up the cliffs to where the officer stood, with his sword drawn, and tho men with their muskets cocked. ' I am your prisoner, Lieutenant Graham. Fear nothing from me, but if you value your life, let us hurry from this place,' said Donald. (to be coxtinted.)