d the rope, "if I
don't get you out of here, the Armstrongs will save his majesty all
trouble on the score of decapitation."

There was silence now as the three watched the deft hands of the
cobbler, hurrying to make the most of the last rays of the flickering
torch in the wall. He tested the strands and proved them strong,
then ran each along the ball of wax, thus cementing their loose
thread together. He knotted the ends with extreme care, tried their
resistance thoroughly, and waxed them unsparingly. It was a business
of breathless interest, but at last the snake-like length of thin rope
lay on the floor at his disposal. He tied an end securely to the beam
just outside the window-sill so that there would be no sharp edge to
cut the cord, then he paid out the line into the darkness, slowly and
carefully that it might not became entangled.

"There," he said at last, with a sigh of satisfaction, "who's first
for the rope. We three await your majesty's commands."

"Do you know the country hereabout?" asked the king of the man who had
been prisoner longest.

"Every inch of it."

"Can you guide us safely to the north in the darkness?"

"Oh, yes, once I am down by the stream."

"Then," said the king, "go down by the stream. When you are on firm
footing say no word, but shake the rope. If you prove a true guide to
us this night we will pay you well."

"I shall be well paid with my liberty," replied the prisoner, crawling
cautiously over the stone sill and disappearing in the darkness. The
cobbler held the taut line in his hand. No man spoke, they hardly
seemed to breathe until the cobbler said:

"He's safe. Your majesty should go next."

"The captain is the last to leave the ship," said the king; "over you
go, Flemming." After the cobbler, Sir David descended, followed by
the king; and they found at the bottom of the ravine some yards of
line to spare.

Their adventures through that wild night and the next day, until they
came to a village where they could purchase horses, form a story in
themselves.

When the king reached Stirling, and was dressed once more in a costume
more suited to his station than that which had been torn by the
brambles of the Border, he called to him the chief minister of his
realm.

"You will arrest immediately," he said, "Cockburn of Henderland, and
Adam Scott of Tushielaw, and have them beheaded."

"Without trial, your majesty?" asked the minister in amazement.

"Certainly not