CHAPTER LXVII. I WILL SAVE YOU.

Te Aroha News, Volume VI, Issue 301, 22 September 1888, Page 5

CHAPTER LXVII. I WILL SAVE YOU.

' I climbed the gory vulture's nest, And found the trembliug dove within.' The voice of Mother Gwynneth aroused her from a deep bleep, the sleep of utter exhaustion. She started up with a thrill of terror. The sun was shining in at the window, and the old woman was placing the tray containing her breakfast on the table. ' Ye slumber late, my lassie,' she remarked, as Maggie sprang up, all di eased, as she hai thrown herself down ; ' ye must a' kept bad hours last night ; see' — pointing to the empty candlestick — 'yer candlo s burnt out.' ' I like to burn my light all night in this ghostly place, ' replied Maggie, quietly, bub thrilling with terror lest the dust on her clothes or some disarrangement about the room should betray her : ' and I got to rummaging among the dusty old books, too, to pass away the time — 'tis awfully dull shut up in this way, my good woman.' 1 Weel, weel,' responded the old woman, her eyes gleaming wickedly, ' 'twas yer own stubborn will as brung ye here ; why dinna ye marry the young laird at once ?' 'Because I was foolish, I dare say,' said Maggie, obeying a sudden determination to pretend she was being conquered in order to ward off suspicion ; l but Lord Angus should have been patient and .nob whisked me off and shut me up like a prisoner. 1 can't forgive him.' ' Yes, ye can,' coaxed Mother Gwynneth. 'Why, he done it all fur love of ye,and he be a braw young laird as any lassie need be proud to win. Ve'll forgie him an' meet him wi a kiss when he gets back from Lunnon, won't ye now ?' Maggie tossed her head witJi a charming coquettish air. ' When does he come ?' she asked. ' To-morrow, mebbe ; he thought to be gone a week, but Berkit come last night an' says he'll be back sooner — so ye may be lookin' yer puttiest. Coom, here's yer breakfast all hot now ; sit ye down an' eat, an' don't fret any more ; 1 shall be busy to-day, since the young laird cooms tomorrow. ' She loft the room, locking it after her, and Maggie heard her go shuffling do\vn the great stairway with the blood hound whining at her heels. He followed the old creature wherever she went. To-morrow ! Lord Angus coming back to morrow ! Oh, what should she do ? How should she escape ? She sat for a long time in deep thought. There seemed to be no hope, and she came to her decision in silent calmness. If the worst came &ho would slip through the aperture, replace the sliding panel, and lie down in the awful gloom some«vhere below and die. They would never find her, for it was evident they knew nothing ol the secret passage. But it would be a dreadful end to life and her old father mourning over her loss. And the Earl ot Strathspey ! At thought of him she started up. The remembrance of hid white face and hungry eyes thrilled her with new hope. She crossed over to the table. The breakfa&t was very tempting and she was weak and hungry. She ate one cake, and a little bib of the broiled bacon, and swallowed a mouthful of tea ; the remainder she reserved for the poor sufferer below. But uaie she attempt to make the descent by daylight? What if someone should enter her room and rind the panel open, the secret stairway revealed ? , But she could nob bear, to let the earl famish throughout the long, long day. .She, resolved to risk it. Taking the, food in her apron as before shqjemoved r the panel and hurried down. When she .reached the vault , she was breathless. -, The peer, , reclining on his bed, of stone, heard her coming and,, arose to meet ..her, his white face eager and smiling. Ib had seemed an, eternity since , she left him. She- spread her breakfast , before him and .invited; him to partake of ib. '.But, my, little friend,' he said, gravely, his, eyes, turning wibh wistful longing towards .the food, in, .spite of, hie will, ' I cannot prplong my life at blie cost of yours •-y-yburj bring me your food.while you are sbar.vipg !' '.Oh, no,' said Maggie. I No, indeed, 1 , have , eaten some, , and X. shall have more ab noon^rpleasei eat ib, and bry bo get your .sbrengbh ; .you , will need ib all. And I must leave you again this moment. I will come again ; in the meantime, remain quiebj T .and do not despair. The darkest hour is jusb before bhe dawn.' ,She fled away as she had come, wibh noiseless steps, ,up the spiral stairs, and back to her prison. The morning wore away. Noon came, and a hofc September sun blazed down upon bhe tioary babblements ; bhe long afbernoon, the cool, grey bwilighb, and ab lusb, ab last the silent night.'

< Maggie threw, aside the old volume she, had been trying- in, vain to read, and went ,I to the window, with a sigh of relief. The '-day had seemed so endless, and she had longed for the night with a vague hope. A groundless hope, alas, for there was not the most remote possibility of escape. Yet she longed ,\\-ith feverish impatience for the durkne&H, >and.< welcomed it now, and watched, the great white stars, flashing out in the far-off sky, with tear-dimmed eyes. Her keeper came up with her supper and a little morsel of candle that would not last through half the night. ' I won't have ye watching the night through tin' makin' a ghost o' yeisel,' she said ; 'go to bed like a gude lassie ; yer braw young sweetheart will be here tomoirow.' Maggie shuddered and sab .lown by the casement, that toolish, vague hope still tormenting her. She reserved her supper for the earl, intending to take it down to him by-and-by. Slowly the hour& went by, and Maggie sat there counting her heart-beats. She could hear t v e tir trees moaning in the September winds, and the sea beating on the sands below, and at last, after weary, weary waiting.she heard that for which she had hoped with such feverish unrest. The sweet flute-notes &et to the music of the dear old song, 'The Campbells are Coming.' Assured now that it was intended as a signal to herself, she arosa, in a tremor of excitement, and lit her bit ot candle. Then she made her way out, and started up the dizzy staiib again. Impatience winged her feet, and she made the long and tiresome ascent very speedily. A stout wind was blowing when she leached the tower-chamber, and she hurried her candleintoa&helteredcornerlestit should be blown out. Then she tore a .strip from her apion, and twisting it into a wisp, lit it at the blaze, and hastening to the window threw it out as before. The wind caught it aud whirled it away, like a flaming pennon in the darkness, and swift as thought, from below, came the dulcet numbers of 'Highland Mary.' Maggie knew that she was answered. A delicious thrill stirred her heart, and a bright bloom suffused her waxen cheeks as she gazed down the dizzy distance. She could see a man's figure crossing the barren heath below, and raising an arm, ever and anon, with a warning gesture. She watched the dark, tall Hgure with fascinated eyes. It approached the base of the ruins with rapid steps, and then she lost sight of it. Still she did not remove her fascinated gaze, but continued to lean over the stone sill, her eyes strained down into the shadowy depths below. Ten minutes passed in dead silence ! Then, all at ooce, a strain of exquisite melody broke on her ear. And, wonder of wonders, it came, not from the heath below, but from some near point. Her heart throbbed with painful rapidity, and she drew back half in terror. Ten minutes more ! The great owl started from his roost in the ivy, flew out with a wild cry, and, in the after silence, the girl caught, at intervals, the soqnd ot l hoarse, panting respirations. | Impelled by some tmofcion stronger than her terror, she leaned far out into the night, and she caught sight of a man's head protruding above the clustering ivy. A low , startled cry escaped her lips. It wus instantaneously answered. 'Be quiet,' spoke a clear, firm voice, a voice that inspired her with confidence and courage ; 'do not fear ; lam coming to help you.' 'Come on !' she tesponded, still leaning out. The ivy vines that clung about the lofty tower began to bhake and rustle, the panting respirations came nearer, and presen+ly . the man's head came distinctly into view — a handsome, blonde head, and a pair of shining, resolute blue eyes Their owner was accomplishing the daring feat of climbing the ' Border Watch-tower ' by aid of ; the ivy vines that covered it. He came up cautiously, but fearlessly, now clinging by his arms, now finding a foothold against the rugged masonry. Maggie giew sick and faint as she wa'ched him, but he smiled up into her white iace, as it hung o>er him in the silvery moonlight ; and. in another breath he swung himself up to the window-sill, and leaped in. Covered with perspiration, and almost gasping from his great exeition, his closehtting hunting-jacket torn into shreds, his handsome face flushed, his blonde curls all in a tumble ; yet Maggie knew him in ( an instant. He was ths young stranger i who had drawn her from under the horse's feet at tne ' Lion and the Unicorn,' and to whom s>he appealed for help when Lord Angus forced her away. Her eyes i brightened, and a lovely colour rose to her i cheek. She ox tended her hand with a shy ' but exquisite grace. ' I remember you,' she said, simply; ' and ( you have risked your life to come to me ?' The young man bowed, and took the 1 cold little lingers in his own shapely '< hand. " < ' No, not quite that,' he replied. ' 'Twas 1 a c oso thing, I'll admit, but I've a talent for climbing, and the ivy is strong and s safe ; my lite wa& in no danger. But I m ' glad you lemember mo,' he added, with a 1 flashing glance, ' becuuse I've never for- i gotten you for one single moment ; sleep- i ing or waking, your iace has haunted me. I knew you weie not mad, as they asserted I and I was determined to "*u\ c you. £ 1 followed the carriage that boie you away that night, and saw you conveyed into l this place ; and finding no other mode ot < entrance, \ou ccc, 'I've climbed the gory vulture* nest.' And now, what can Ido I for you ?' 1 ' Help me to escape.' replied Maggie, 1 promptly. , 'If 1 remain tillfcto-monow, a fate woi&c than death will be mine.' i He considered a moment, his handsome I face turned toward the setting moon. ' 'First, tell me,' lie then replied, 'how f you ever managed to get up here, if, as I infer, you have been held a prisoner. You surely did not ascend by the secret stairvvay ?' ' Yes, I, did,' Maggie replied. 'I discovered it by chance, and came up here at tracted by the sound of your flute ; but I fancied no one knew that such a stairway existed.' The young man smiled, showing his handsome white teeth. 1 You fancied rightly. I stumbled upon it by chance, like yourself, when this old place was unoccupied, and I was here on an investigating tour ; but I can t well believe that you had the courage to ascend it.' 'I did,' said Maggie. 'I would go through the gates ot death, I think, to make my escape. ' He flashed another glance upon her from his bright blue eyes. 1 Come, then,' he said ; 'we have no time to lose, and there is but one way. The dooro and gates are barred and bolted, and Mother Gwynneth and her blood-hound are playing sentinel. We must go down the ivy. ' Maggie started in surprise, and grew a shade paler as she glanced down the dizay distance. > 1 There's no danger,' replied the stranger, i encouragingly ; 'it you will only trust me, J \ will save you. Come 1' |

He held out his hand, and Magerie drew, near. ' Now you'll have to cling to me with all your strength — here, this way, so that I can use my .hands in descending, and do not fear ; you look like a brave girl.' She permitted him to clasp her close, I while ehe twined her arms about his stalwart shoulders. He was just on the point of springing through the window, when she uttered a quick cry ! 4 Oh, I had forg6tten !' she exclaimed ; ' how utterly selfish I am in my eagerness to save myself. There is another prisoner in this old castle — away down in the old donjon keep, the Eari of Strathspey lie dying. We must save him — I won't leave him behind.' The young man turned and faced her, a curious expression in his eyes. ' What do you say ?' he cried ; < Hie Earl of Strathspey a prisoner here V ' Yes — his own son, or the boy rather, who has been reared as his son, lured him here by a false letter, and locked him in the dungeon to die. Providence sent me down to him, I think, and I saved his life by sharing my food with him.' 'And why should this boy lure his father here, and leave him to die ? questioned the stranger, a slight tremor running through his clear voice. ' The earl suspects t hat the boy is not his son, and talks of renouncing him, and the young man wants to murder him and secuie the earldom.' For the space of an instant the young man stood silent, a slow flush rising "to his fair, clear-cut face. 'Well, he ejaculated at last, 'of all strange things, this is the strangest, the Earl of Strathspey incarcerated here by his son and heir. I can scarcely belie\o it.' 'It is true,' cried Maggie," eagerly ; ' and he will die— he looks like death now— and I have carried him no food since morning. Oh, sir, can't you help him ? 1 Of course I will — I'll rouse the officers of the law, and ran&ack this old ghost-ne3t Irom top to bottom ' ' But every moment is precious,' inter posed Maggie ; ' the young Lord Angus, as he is called, falsely enbugh too, for I have the proof that he is no son of the earl.' 1 What, yon have the proof ?' ' Yes — I found it, as I seem to find eveiything, by mere chance, in the flannel mantle worn by that poor little babe that was found on the Tyrol mountain— the written proof that ' 1 Hist :' cried the young man, catching at her arm. * there's a carriage below — put out your candle, quick !' Maggie darted across to the corner in yrhich the candle flickered and extinguished it with a breath, then she turned to the window, gazing cautiously down. A two - wheeled vehicle containing n couple of men was bowling up the gravel walk. In a second they paused before the great gate, and one of them leaped out and proceeded to unlock it. Maggie had a fair view of the other as he sat in the white moonlight. ' Oh, heavens !' she whispered, her cheeks paling with terror. 'it is Lord Angus, the earl's son ; we are lost !' ' Nay,' replied the stranger, ' not lost yet. See, they have entered — Mother Gwynne'th's blood-hound bids thorn welcome. Come <' He cla&ped her firmly with one arm and approached the window. ' But the earl ?' gasped Maggie, shivering with terror a« she heard the fierce baying of the beast below . ' I'll save him,' leplied the young man, quietly ; ' but you must be go r , into a safe place first. Come — the moments are precious. ' And clasping her once more, he leaped lightly through the window and swung himself out.