ouse might have been searched without warning,
consequently they were far from being secure there. In this distress I
had the precaution to bury them in the ground, and nobody but myself and
the gardener knew where they were: I did the same with other things of
value. The event proved that I had acted prudently to save these
papers."

Lady Nithisdale determined to return, at all risks, to Scotland; and it
was, perhaps, from her care in concealing the important documents to
which she refers, that the estates were not escheated. She soon put into
execution the heroic determination, of which she made no boast. Her
journey was full of perils; not only those incident to the time and
season of the year, but the great risk of being betrayed and discovered.
Little respect was paid, in that reign, when truly the spirit of
chivalry was extinguished, to the weaker sex. Ladies, active and
instrumental as they were in political intrigues, if found out, were
made to pay the penalty of their dissaffection with hard imprisonment;
or, if at large, wandered from place to place, conscious that the eye of
the law pursued their footsteps. Lady Seaforth, the wife of one of the
rebel lords, was reduced to necessity, even of the common necessaries of
life; and Lady Widdrington and her children shared the same cruel
privations.[32]

Believing herself, also, to be an object of peculiar dislike to George
the First, Lady Nithisdale's courage in braving the royal displeasure a
second time, certainly appears to border upon folly and a rash temerity.
But she knew well that if she could once reach the land of the Maxwells,
the strict respect paid to the head of the clan, and the remarkable
fidelity of all ranks of the Scotch to those who trust to their honour,
would there prove her safeguard. The great danger was in making the
journey. But the young heroic Countess dismissed all fear from her mind,
and prepared for her enterprise.

"In short," she thus prefaces her narrative, "as I had once exposed my
life for the safety of the father, I could not do less than hazard it
once more for the fortune of the son. I had never travelled on horseback
but from York to London, as I told you; but the difficulties did not
arise now from the severity of the season, but the fear of being
discovered and arrested. To avoid this, I bought three saddle-horses,
and set off with my dear Evans and a very trusty servant, whom I brought
with me out of Scotland. We put up