"Pshaw," cried Laurence, "I never yet saw the lass I liked better than
myself. And I never expect to see one that I shall like better than
the fat revenues of the Abbacy of Dulce Cor!"

He paused a moment as if roguishly considering some point.

"Besides," he went on, "wed I may not, but woo--that is another
matter! I have never yet heard that an Abbot--"

"Good-day!" cried Sholto, suddenly, at this point, "I will not stay to
hear you blaspheme!"

And leaving his father and Laurence to ride westward he turned him
back towards Thrieve.

"I will surely return to-morrow," cried Malise; "I must first see this
gay bird safely in mew. Aye, and bid the Abbot William clip his wings
too!"

So in the gay morning sunshine and with the reflection of the lift
glinting dark blue from tarn and lakelet, Sholto MacKim rode towards
the Castle of Thrieve. He bethought him on all that was bygone. The
Avondales were gone, James the Gross might die any moment--might even
now be dead and William Douglas be Earl in his place!

He thought over William of Avondale's last words to himself, spoken
with deep solemnity and in all the dignity of a great spirit.

"Sholto, you and yours have brought to justice the chief betrayer. The
time is at hand when, having the power, I will settle with Crichton
and Livingston, the lesser villains. And in that count and reckoning
you must be my right-hand man. Keep your Countess, the sweet young
Margaret, safe for my sake. She is very precious to me--indeed, beyond
my life. And for this time fare you well!"

And he had reached a mailed hand to the captain of the Douglas guard,
and when Sholto would have bent his head upon it to kiss it, William
of Avondale gripped his suddenly as one grasps a comrade's hand when
the heart is touched, and so was gone.

At the verge of the flowery pastures that ring the isle of Thrieve,
Sholto met Maud Lindesay, wandering alone. At sight of her he leaped
from his horse, and, without salutation of spoken speech, walked by
her side.

"How came you here alone?" he asked.

Maud made her little pouting movement of the lips, and kicked
viciously at a tuft of grass.

"I forgot," she said hypocritically, "I ought to have asked leave of
that noble knight the Captain of Thrieve. We poor maids must not
breathe without his permission--no, nor even walk out to meet him when
we are lonesome."

Maud Lindesay lifted her eyes suddenly and shot at Sholto a glance so
disabling, th