fied horror by the entrance of
Jeannie who, rushing into the cell, threw her arms round her neck.

"What signifies coming to greet ower me," said poor Effie, "when you
have killed me? Killed me, when a word from your mouth would have saved
me."

"You shall not die," said Jeannie, with enthusiastic firmness. "Say what
you like o' me, only promise, for I doubt your proud heart, that you
winna' harm yourself? I will go to London and beg your pardon from the
king and queen. They _shall_ pardon you, and they will win a thousand
hearts by it!"

She soon tore herself from her sister's arms and left the cell.
Ratcliffe followed her, so impressed was he by her "spunk," he advised
her as to her proceedings, to find a friend to speak for her to the
king--the Duke of Argyle, if possible--and wrote her a line or two on a
dirty piece of paper, which would be useful if she fell among thieves.
Jeannie then hastened home to St. Leonard's Crags, and gave full
instructions to her usual assistant, concerning the management of
domestic affairs and arrangements for her father's comfort in her
absence. She got a loan of money from the Laird of Dumbiedikes, and set
off without losing a moment on her walk to London. On her way she
stopped to bid adieu to her old friend Reuben Butler, whom she had
expected to see at the court yesterday. She knew, of course, that he was
still under some degree of restraint--he had been obliged to find bail
not to quit his usual residence, in case he were wanted as a witness--
but she had hoped he would have found means to be with his old friend on
such a day.

She found him quite seriously ill, as she had feared, but yet most
unwilling to let her go on this errand alone; she must give him a
husband's right to protect her. But she, pointing out the fact that he
was scarcely able to stand, said this was no time to speak of marrying
or giving in marriage, asked him if his grandfather had not done some
good to the forebear of MacCallumore. It was so, and Reuben gave her the
papers to prove it, and a letter to the Duke of Argyle; and she, begging
him to do what he could for her father and sister, left the room
hastily.

With a strong heart, and a frame patient of fatigue, Jeannie Deans,
travelling at the rate of twenty miles and more a day, traversed the
southern part of Scotland, where her bare feet attracted no attention.
She had to conform to the national extravagance in England, and
confessed afterwards "th