den in a crack of the
wall, a silver snuff-box with a withered finger in it, which must have
been a prisoner's "fetich." But it couldn't have brought him luck;
otherwise, if he'd been released, he would have taken it away with him.
Probably he swung on the hanging beam that sticks out over the window of
the old "condemned cell."

Next to Queen Mary's table, and perhaps the roof of the keep whence we
could see away over the border into mystery-land, I liked best of all
the Castle things a little deserted house in a courtyard, where Richard
III lived for a while, when he was young. Few people know about it, or
are taken to see it. But it alone would be enough to make the Castle
interesting if there were nothing else. Only a few empty, echoing,
half-ruinous rooms there are, with a queer chimney or two to give
comfort; but Richard's enemies made it a charge against him that he
lived in Carlisle Castle, splendidly housed in sinful luxury. What a
pity all the tales against him were not so little true as that!

III

We're in Scotland!

Caesar could not have revelled in crossing the Rubicon as I revelled in
crossing the border. The very word rings out like the sudden sound of
bells, or the mysterious music that thrills one's blood in dreams.

Poor Caesar was obliged to burn his nice boats, and think disagreeable
thoughts about the great responsibility he had taken, whereas we made
our crossing in a beautiful motor-car, and I had no responsibility
whatever. As for disagreeable thoughts, I had a few in England, but the
air of Scotland has chased them away. I see that they were silly as well
as selfish thoughts. I was so wicked that I hoped Mr. Somerled would not
make up his quarrel with Mrs. West. I was afraid that if he did the poor
princess he had rescued would be in his way, and that he would wish her
safely back in her glass retort. Now they _have_ made up, yet somehow I
don't feel in the way. He is so kind, and--yes, I must admit it--Mrs.
West is so tactful.

It seems that while Mr. Douglas and I were walking and talking together
in Carlisle Castle she apologized to Mr. Somerled. And outside the
entrance gates, when Mr. Douglas had shaken hands, hoping to "run across
us" when he gets leave for Edinburgh, Mrs. West walked up to me. "I've
begged Mr. Somerled's pardon," she said, with her pretty smile which
never changes, "and he has forgiven me, so you mustn't go on thinking me
an ill-natured, bad-tempered perso