his chief.

"Go back, I command you, Malise MacKim," he said, "go back instantly.
I have made up my mind. I will not escape from the Castle of Edinburgh
this night."

But Malise answered not a word, only pulled more desperately on the
rope, till the sound of his labouring breath and grasping palms could
be heard from side to side of the chamber.

The Earl leaned further out.

"Malise," he said, calm and clear, "you see this knife. I would not
have your blood on my hands. You have been a good and faithful servant
to our house. But, by the oath of a Douglas, if you come one foot
farther, I will cut the rope and you shall be dashed in pieces
beneath."

The master armourer stopped--not with any fear of death upon him, but
lest a stroke of his master's dirk should destroy their well-arranged
mode of escape.

"O Earl William, my dear lord, hear me," he said in a gasping voice,
still hanging perilously between earth and heaven. "If I have indeed
been a faithful servant, I beseech you come with me--for the sake of
the house of Douglas and of your mother, a widow and alone."

"Go down, Malise MacKim," said the Earl, more gently; "I will speak
with you only at the rope's foot."

So very unwillingly Malise went back.

"Now," said the Earl, "hearken--this will I do and no other. I will
remain here and abide that which shall befall me, as is the will of
God. I am bound by a tie that I cannot break. What life is to another,
honour and his word must be to a Douglas. But I send your son Sholto
to you. I bid him ride fast to Galloway and bring all that are
faithful with speed here to Edinburgh. Go also into Douglasdale and
tell my cousin William of Avondale--and if he is too late to save, I
know well he will avenge me."

"O William Douglas, if indeed ye will neither fleech nor drive, I pray
you for the sake of the great house to send your brother David, that
the Douglases of the Black be not cut off root and branch. Remember,
your mother is sore set on the lad."

"I will not go," cried David, as he heard this; "by the saints I will
stand by my brother's shoulder, though I be but a boy! I will not go
so much as a step, and if by force ye stir me I will cry for the
guard!"

By this time the young David was leaning half out of the window, and
almost shouting out his words down to the unseen Douglases beneath.

"Go, Sholto," said the Earl, setting his hand on his squire's
shoulder. "You alone can ride to Galloway without