nts were
frequently put to the oath as to when they saw their master; but as they
knew nothing, all passed off quite well.

With James Winter's assistance the Lady Polwarth got a bed and
bed-clothes carried in the night to the burying-place, a vault under the
ground at Polwarth Church, a mile from the house. Here Sir Patrick was
concealed a whole month, never venturing out. For all light he had only
an open slit at one end, through which nobody could see what was below.

To this lonely place little Grisell went every night by herself at
midnight, to carry her father victuals and drink, and stayed with him
as long as she could with a chance of returning home before the morning.
Here in this dismal habitation did they often laugh heartily at the
incidents of the day, for they were both of that cheerful disposition
which is a continual feast.

[Illustration: Grisell brings the sheep's head to her father in the
vault]

Grisell had ordinarily a terror of the churchyard, especially in the
dark, for being but a girl, and having been frightened with nursery
stories, she thought to see ghosts behind every tomb. But when she came
to help her father, she had such anxious care for him that all fear of
ghosts went away from her. She stumbled among the graves every night
alone, being only in dread that the stirring of a leaf or the barking of
a dog betokened the coming of a party of soldiers to carry away her
father to his death. The minister's house was near the church. The first
night she went, his dogs kept up such a barking that it put her in the
utmost fear of a discovery. The next day the Lady Polwarth sent for the
curate, and, on pretext of a mad dog, got him to send away all his dogs.
A considerate curate, in sooth!

There was great difficulty in getting victuals to carry to Sir Patrick
without the servants, who were not in the secret, suspecting for what
purpose they were taken. The only way that it could be done was for
Grisell to slip things off her plate into her lap as they sat at dinner.

Many a diverting story is told about this. Sir Patrick above all things
was fond of sheep's head. One day while the children were eating their
broth, Grisell had conveyed a whole sheep's head into her lap. Her
brother Sandy (who was afterwards Lord Marchmont) looked up as soon as
he had finished, and cried out with great astonishment, 'Mother, will ye
look at our Grisell. While we have been supping our broth, she has eaten
up th