n met with insults and lies, lies known to
be lies to you who speak them. I go, and I pray that we shall meet no
more until the day when, in the light of God's judgment, you will be
able to see what is in my heart and understand what is in your own."

"Amen," said Micah Ward, "I bide the test."

Lord Dunseveric bowed and walked to the door of the room. Then he
paused, turned, and held out his hand to Neal.

"You will stay with your father, Neal," he said. "I do not deny that you
are right, but I will not part from you in unfriendliness. God keep you,
boy, and remember, for old time's sake, for the sake of the days when
you stood by my knee with my own children, you have always--whatever
happens--always a friend in me."

Neal's eyes filled with tears. He could not speak. He carried Lord
Dunseveric's hand to his lips, and then let it go reluctantly. He heard
the door shut, the trampling of the horse's hoofs on the gravel outside.
Then, with a sudden sob, which he could not repress, went across the
room and sat down beside his father.

Donald alone remained cheerful and unimpressed.

"I know that kind of man," he said. "A fine kind it is. We had some of
the same sort in America. They crossed the border afterwards to Canada.
I suppose you mean to ship your aristocracy to England, Micah? From all
I hear they like lords over there. But now to work. We can't afford to
sit still while Master James Finlay is loose about the country with your
letters in his pocket. We must get on his trail, Neal, you and I. We
must hinder him from doing more mischief. The first thing we want is
horses. Micah, where are we to get horses--two strong nags, fit for the
road?"

Micah Ward sat silent and absorbed. His eyes were fixed on the wall
in front of him. His lips moved, as if he were speaking, but no sound
passed them. His hands on the table in front of him twitched. He was a
prey to some violent emotion. Donald called him again, and again failed
to arouse his attention. Then he turned to Neal.

"There's no use in trying to rouse your father, Neal. He will not hear
us. Do you know anyone who will sell or hire us horses?"

"Rab MacClure has horses," said Neal. "He has two, I know. He lives not
far from this, about a mile along the road towards Ballintoy."

"Come, then," said Donald, "I suppose the family will be all abed
by this time. We must rouse them. There's Scripture warrant for it.
'Friend, lend me three loaves.' We must imitate