hen. And by God's grace I do love
you now--yea, before all men I declare it. Once for a season of
glorious forgetting, all too brief, I was yours to love, now I am
yours to hate and to despise. I tried to save you, but though you had
my warning you would not go back or forget me. Now it is too late!"

As she spoke over the face of William Douglas there had come a
glow--the red blood flooding up and routing the white determined
pallor of his cheek.

"My lady," he answered her, gently, "be not grieved for a little thing
that is past. That you love me truly is enough. I ask for no more,
least of all for pity. I have not lived long. I have not had time
allotted me wherein to do great things, but for your sake I can die as
well as any! You have given me of your love, and of the flower
thereof. I am glad. That you have loved me was my crown of life. Now
it remains but to pay a little price soon paid, for a joy exceeding
great."

But the Chancellor had had enough of this. He rose, and, stretching
forth his hand towards the barrier, he said: "William of Douglas, you
and your brother are condemned to instant death as enemies of the King
and his ministers. Soldiers, do your duty. Lead them forth to the
block!"

And with these words he left the dais, followed by Sir Alexander
Livingston. The girl stood in the place whence she had spoken her last
words. Then, as the men-at-arms went shamefacedly to take the Earl by
the arm, she suddenly threw herself across the platform, leaped
lightly over the barrier, and fell into his arms.

"William, once I would have betrayed you," she said, "but now I love
you. I will die with you--or by the great God I will live to avenge
you."

"Hush, sweetheart," said William Douglas, touching her brow gently
with his lips, and putting her into the arms of an officer of the
court whom her uncle had sent to remove her. "Fear not for me! Death
is swift and easy. I expected nothing else. That you love me is
enough! Dear love, fare thee well!"

But the girl heard him not. She had fainted in the arms that held her.
Yet the Marshal de Retz had still more for her to suffer. He stood
beside her and dashed water upon her till she awoke, that she might
see that which remained to be done.

* * * * *

It was a scene dreary beyond all power of words to tell it, when into
the courtyard of the Castle of Edinburgh they brought the two noble
young men forth to die. The sun had lo