is presence, passing in front of Lady
Margaret and her granddaughter. The captain of the popinjay (as the
victor was called) and Miss Bellenden coloured like crimson, as the
latter returned the low inclination he made, even to the saddlebow, in
passing her.

"Do you know that young person?" said Lady Margaret.

"I--I--have seen him, madam, at my uncle's, and--and--elsewhere,
occasionally," stammered Edith.

"I hear them say around me," said Lady Margaret, "that the young spark
is the nephew of old Milnwood."

"The son of the late Colonel Morton of Milnwood, who commanded a
regiment of horse with great courage at Dunbar and Inverkeithing," said
a gentleman beside Lady Margaret.

"Ay, and before that, who fought for the Covenanters, both at Marston
Moor and Philipshaugh," said Lady Margaret, sighing. "His son ought to
dispense with intruding himself into the company of those to whom his
name must bring unpleasing recollections."

"You forget, my dear lady, he comes here to discharge suit and service
in name for his uncle. He is an old miser, and although probably against
the grain, sends the young gentleman to save pecuniary pains and
penalties. The youngster is, I suppose, happy enough to escape for the
day from the dullness of the old home at Milnwood."

The company now dispersed, excepting such as, having tried their
dexterity at the popinjay, were, by ancient custom, obliged to partake
of a grace-cup with their captain, who, though he spared the cup
himself, took care it should go round with due celerity among the rest.

On leaving the alehouse, a stranger observed to Morton that he was
riding towards Milnwood, and asked for the advantage of his company.

"Certainly," said Morton, though there was a gloomy and relentless
severity in the man's manner from which he recoiled, and they rode off
together.

They had not long left, when Cornet Grahame, a kinsman of Claverhouse,
entered with the news that the Archbishop of St. Andrews had been
murdered by a body of the rebel Whigs.

He read their descriptions, and it was clear that the stern stranger who
had just left with Henry Morton, was Balfour of Burley, the actual
commander of the band of assassins, though Morton himself knew nothing
of Burley's terrible deed.

"Horse, horse, and pursue, my lads!" exclaimed Cornet Grahame. "The
murdering dog's head is worth its weight in gold."

_II.--Henry Morton's Escape_

The dragoons soon arrived at Milnwood, a