of the three young men imprisoned in David's Tower.

But the sound of the woman's tears had thrown the Earl into an
excitement so extreme that he hammered on the great bolt-studded door
with his bare clenched hands, and cried aloud to the Chancellor and
Livingston, commanding them to open to him. His first calmness seemed
completely broken up.

Meanwhile Sholto, his whole soul bent on the cord which gave the
unseen Douglases a chance of saving the lives of their masters, had
drawn thirty yards of stout rope into the room. He fixed it by a
double knot, first to a ring which was let into the wall, and
afterwards to the massive handle of the door itself.

"Now, my lord," he whispered, as he finished, "be pleased to go
first. Our lads are beneath, and in the shaking of a cow's tail we
shall be safe in the midst of them."

The Earl held up his hand with the quick imperative motion he used to
command silence. The sound of the woman's voice came again from above,
now quick and high, like one who makes an agonised petition, and now
in tones lower that seemed broken with sobs and lamentations.

At first William Douglas did not appear to comprehend the meaning of
Sholto's words, being so bent on his listening. But when the young
captain of the guard again reminded him that the time of their chances
for relief was quickly passing, and that the soldiers of the
Chancellor might come at any moment to lead them to their doom, the
Earl broke out upon him in sudden anger.

"For what crawling thing do you take me, Sholto MacKim?" he cried; "I
will not leave this place till I know what they have done with her.
She trusted me, and shall I prove a recreant? I would have you know
that I am William, Earl of Douglas, and fear not the face of any
Crichton that ever breathed. Ho--there--without!" and again he shook
the door with ineffectual anger.

His only answer was the sound of that beseeching woman's voice, and
the measured tread of the sentry, whose partisan they could see
flashing in the lamplight through the narrow barred wicket, as he
turned in front of their door.

And it was now all in vain that Sholto pled with his master. To every
argument Lord Douglas replied, "I cannot go--it consorts not with
mine honour to leave this castle so long as the Lady Sybilla is in
their hands."

Sholto told him how they could now escape, and in a week would raise
the whole of the south, returning to the siege of the castle and the
destructi