etter. But what say you, Thekla?
Are you ready to run the risks, the danger, and the hardships of such a
journey under the protection only of this brave Scottish gentleman?"

"I am ready, mother," Thekla said quickly, "but I wish--I wish"--and she
hesitated.

"You wish you could go in your own garments, Thekla, with jewels on
your fingers and a white horse to carry you on a pillion behind your
protector," the count said with a smile, for his spirits had risen
with the hope of his daughter's escape from the peril in which she was
placed. "It cannot be, Thekla. Malcolm's plan must be carried out to the
letter, and I doubt not that you will pass well as a `prentice boy. But
your mother must cut off that long hair of yours; I will keep it, my
child, and will stroke it often and often in my prison as I have done
when it has been on your head; your hair may be long again before I next
see you."

His eyes filled with tears as he spoke, and Thekla and the countess both
broke into a fit of crying. Leaving them by themselves, Malcolm returned
to his work, and in half an hour had replaced the machinery of the clock
and had set it in motion, while a tender conversation went on between
the count and countess and their daughter. By this time the sun had
set, and the attendant entered and lighted the candles in the apartment,
saying, as she placed one on the table by Malcolm, "You must need a
light for your work." No sooner had she left the room than Malcolm said:

"I would not hurry your parting, countess, but the sooner we are off now
the better."

Without a word the countess rose, and, taking the clothes which Malcolm
produced from his doublet, retired to her chamber, followed by Thekla.

"Malcolm Graheme," the count said, "it may be that we shall not meet
again. The emperor is not tender with obstinate prisoners, and I have no
strength to support long hardships. Should aught happen to me I beseech
you to watch over the happiness of my child. Had she been a year older,
and had you been willing, I would now have solemnly betrothed her to
you, and should then have felt secure of her future whatever may befall
me. Methinks she will make a good wife, and though my estates may be
forfeited by the emperor her mother's lands will make a dowry such as
many a German noble would gladly accept with his wife.

"I might betroth her to you now, for many girls are betrothed at a far
younger age, but I would rather leave it as it is. You ar