t seem
possible that in the few moments which Andrew had spent in the kitchen
before Frank's arrival, he could have had time to utter two words.

But sometimes only two words can do a great deal of harm. On this
occasion they cost two lives.

"You now know my secret," said Diana Vernon; "you know how near and dear
is the relative who has so long found shelter here. And it will not
surprise you, that, knowing such a secret, Rashleigh should rule me with
a rod of iron."

But in spite of all that had happened, Sir Frederick was a strict and
narrow Catholic, and Frank found him more than ever determined to
sacrifice his daughter to the life of the convent.

"She has endured trials," he said, "trials which might have dignified
the history of a martyr. She has spent the day in darkness and the night
in vigil, and never breathed a syllable of weakness or complaint. In a
word, Mr. Osbaldistone, she is a worthy offering to that God to whom I
dedicate her, as all that is left dear or precious to Frederick Vernon!"

Frank felt stunned and bewildered when at last they retired. But he had
sufficient forethought to order a bed to be made up for him in the
library, and dismissed Syddall and Andrew with orders not to disturb him
till seven o'clock in the morning.

That night Frank lay long awake, and was at last dropping over to sleep
when he was brought back to consciousness by a tremendous noise at the
front door of Osbaldistone Hall. He hastened downstairs only in time to
hear Andrew Fairservice bidding Syddall stand aside.

"We hae naething to fear if they come in King George's name," he was
saying; "we hae spent baith bluid and gold for him."

In an agony of terror Frank could hear bolt after bolt withdrawn by the
officious scoundrel, who continued to boast all the while of his
master's loyalty to King George. He flew instantly to Diana's room. She
was up and dressed.

"We are familiar with danger," she said with a sad smile. "I have the
key of the little garden door. We will escape by it. Only keep them a
few moments in play! And dear, dear Frank, again--for the last time,
farewell!"

By this time the men were on the stairway, and presently rapping on the
library door.

"You robber dogs!" cried Frank, wilfully misunderstanding their purpose;
"if you do not instantly quit the house, I will fire a blunderbuss upon
you through the door!"

"Fire a fool's bauble," returned Andrew Fairservice; "it's Clerk Jobson
with a