ing the
parchment from the countess and holding it behind her. "If I would let
you, you could not make the alteration; see, your hand trembles! You
would blot the parchment and spoil all this fine plan of mine. Give me
the quill, mother! Give me the quill!"

She took the quill from Margaret's passive hand and sat down at the
table. Spreading the missive before her, she dipped the quill in the
ink-well, and when she lifted it, a drop of ink fell upon the table
within a hair's breadth of the parchment.

"Ah, Blessed Virgin!" cried Yolanda, snatching the missive away from the
ink blot. "If the ink had fallen on the parchment, we surely had been
lost. I, too, am trembling, and I dare not try to make the alteration
now. What a poor, helpless creature I am, when I cannot even cross a 't'
to save myself. Blessed Virgin, help me once more!"

But help did not come. Yolanda's excitement grew instead of subsiding,
and she was so wrought upon by a nameless fear that she began to weep.
Margaret seated herself on the divan and covered her face with her
hands. Yolanda walked the floor like a caged wild thing, uttering
ejaculatory prayers to the Virgin. Again she took up the quill, but
again put it down, exclaiming:--

"I have it, mother! There is a friend of whom I have often told you--Sir
Karl. He will help us if I can bring him here in time. If father has
left the castle, I'll take the letter to my parlor and fetch Sir Karl.
He is a brave, strong old man and his hand will not tremble."

Yolanda left the room and soon returned.

"Father has gone to the marshes," she whispered excitedly. "We have
ample time if I can find Sir Karl."

She took the missive, the ink, and the quill to her parlor in Darius
Tower, and hurried to Castleman's house. How she got there I will
soon tell you.

She found Twonette sewing, and hastily explained her wishes.

"Run, Twonette, to The Mitre, and fetch me Sir Karl. I don't want Sir
Max to know that I am sending. I think Sir Max has gone falconing with
father; I pray God he has gone, and I pray that Sir Karl has not. Tell
Sir Karl to come to me at once. If he is not at the inn send for him. If
you love me, Twonette, make all haste. Run! Run!"

Twonette's haste was really wonderful. When she found me her cheeks were
like red roses, and she could hardly speak for lack of breath. For the
first and last time I saw Twonette shorn of her serenity.

The duke had not invited me to go hawking, and fortu