Ste. Petronelle, 'so
soon as I found which way our faces were turned.'

'But who could or would betray us?' demanded Eleanor.

'You need not ask that, when your escort was led by Andrew Hall,'
returned the elder lady. 'Poor young George of the Red Peel had only
just told me so, when the caitiffs fell on him, and he came to his
bloody death.'

'Hall! Then I marvel not,' said Eleanor, in a low, awe-struck voice. 'My
brother the Dauphin could not have known.'

The old Scotswoman refrained from uttering her belief that he knew only
too well, but by the time all this had been said Barbe was obliged to
leave them, having arranged for the night that Eleanor should sleep in
the big bed beside her sister, and their lady across it at their feet--a
not uncommon arrangement in those days.

Sleep, however, in spite of weariness, was only to be had in snatches,
for poor Jean was in much pain, and very feverish, besides being greatly
terrified at their situation, and full of grief and self-reproach for
the poor young Master of Angus, never dozing off for a moment without
fancying she saw him dying and upbraiding her, and for the most part
tossing in a restless misery that required the attendance of one or
both. She had never known ailment before, and was thus all the more
wretched and impatient, alarming and distressing Eleanor extremely,
though Madame de Ste. Petronelle declared it was only a matter of
course, and that the lassie would soon be well.

'Ah, Madame, our comforter and helper,' said Elleen.

'Call me no French names, dearies. Call me the Leddy Lindsay or Dame
Elspeth, as I should be at home. We be all Scots here, in one sore
stour. If I could win a word to my son, Ritchie, he would soon have us
out of this place.'

'Would not Barbe help us to a messenger?'

'I doubt it. She would scarce bring trouble on her lords; but we might
be worse off than with her.'

'Why does she not come? I want some more drink,' moaned Jean. Barbe did
come, and, moreover, brought not only water but some tisane of herbs
that was good for fever and had been brewing all night, and she was
wonderfully good-humoured at the patient's fretful refusal, though
between coaxing and authority 'Leddy Lindsay' managed to get it taken
at last. After Margaret's experience of her as a stern duenna, her
tenderness in illness and trouble was a real surprise.

No keys were turned on them, but there was little disposition to go
beyond the door which op