you, Malcolm. It is my duty and my privilege to do this if I can."

I saw the truth of her words, and felt that since Dorothy had wrought the
evil, it was clearly her duty to remedy it if she could. If she should
fail, no evil consequences would fall upon her. If I should fail, it would
cost me my life; and while I desired to save John, still I wished to save
myself. Though my conduct may not have been chivalric, still I was willing
that Dorothy should go in my place, and I told her so. I offered to ride
with her as far as a certain cross-road a league distant from Rutland
Castle. There I would leave her, and go across the country to meet the
yeomen on the road they had taken. I could join them before they reached
Rutland, and my absence during the earlier portion of the march would not
be remarked, or if noticed it could easily be explained.

This plan was agreed upon, and after the guards had passed out at
Dove-cote Gate and were well down toward Rowsley, I rode out from the
Hall, and waited for Dorothy at an appointed spot near Overhaddon.

Immediately after my departure Dolcy was saddled, and soon Dorothy rode
furiously up to me. Away we sped, Dorothy and I, by Yulegrave church, down
into the dale, and up the river. Never shall I forget that mad ride. Heavy
rains had recently fallen, and the road in places was almost impassable.
The rivers were in flood, but when Dorothy and I reached the ford, the
girl did not stop to consider the danger ahead of her. I heard her
whisper, "On, Dolcy, on," and I heard the sharp "whisp" of the whip as she
struck the trembling, fearful mare, and urged her into the dark flood.
Dolcy hesitated, but Dorothy struck her again and again with the whip and
softly cried, "On, Dolcy, on." Then mare and rider plunged into the
swollen river, and I, of course, followed them. The water was so deep that
our horses were compelled to swim, and when we reached the opposite side
of the river we had drifted with the current a distance of at least three
hundred yards below the road. We climbed the cliff by a sheep path. How
Dorothy did it I do not know; and how I succeeded in following her I know
even less. When we reached the top of the cliff, Dorothy started off at
full gallop, leading the way, and again I followed. The sheep path
leading up the river to the road followed close the edge of the cliff,
where a false step by the horse would mean death to both horse and rider.
But Dorothy feared not, or k