ught that she had gone mad. "Vex not thyself," he
said kindly. "Methinks thou hast been reading, and thinking, till thou
hast fevered thy poor brain. Thou art no Judas, but mine own true
friend, in whose house I find safe shelter when I need to visit Lanark."

"Safe shelter!" she cried, with a bitter laugh, and she dragged him to
the window, and pointed out in the dusk the figures of four soldiers who
were leaning against the garden gate. "Safe shelter, say ye, when I have
betrayed thee to the English; for this house is watched by fifteen
soldiers; and I have but to put a lamp in the window, as a signal that
thou art within, and they will come and slay thee."

"And what is thy reward for this deed of treachery?" asked Wallace, a
look of contempt coming over his open face. "What pay did the English
loons promise thee?"

"They promised me an English lord for a husband," sobbed the wretched
woman, who now would have done anything in her power to undo the wrong
that she had done. "But oh, sir, I fear me I have wrought sore dule to
thee this day, and sore dule to Scotland. If thou canst get free from
this house, which I fear me thou wilt never do, thou canst denounce me
as a traitor. I care not if I die the death."

"Now Heaven forfend!" said Wallace, whose kindly heart was touched by
her distress, although he despised her for her false deed; "it shall
never be said that William Wallace avenged himself on a woman, no matter
what her crime might be. I trusted thee, and thou hast proved false, and
so from henceforth we must go our different ways; but if thou art truly
sorry, thou mayest yet help me, and, as for me, if once I get clear away
from these Southron knaves outside. I will think no more of the matter."

"But canst thou get clear away?" questioned the lady anxiously. "I fear
me, now that it is past seven o'clock, they will keep stricter watch
than they did when thou camest in. 'Twill be impossible for thee to pass
out in safety, and if thou remainest here, they will search the house
when they tire of waiting for my signal."

Wallace laughed.

"Impossible is not a word that I am well acquaint with, madam," he said,
"and if, for the sake of the friendship that was between us in the days
that are gone, thou wilt lend me some of thine attire, a gown and kirtle
maybe, and a decent petticoat of homespun, and a cap such as wenches
wear to shield their faces from the sun, I hope I may make good my
escape under the very