"There, my friend, take it, and with it take another word of warning-Don't brag of your prize until you hold it in your hand, and don't let even the jailers know that they are to give it up until you have got him out."

Savile shook his head with sorrowful impatience. He knew but too well how tight a clutch was kept upon the poor Scotch Covenanters when once they were caught hold of, and in how many ways justice was strained to elude any of the pleas of mercy.

"But I fear, in spite of your advice, you will not declare me excused if I break into Edinburgh castle by force, to rescue Ivie McCall."

The king laughed lightly. Hardly. Neither will I hold you excused if you are long absent. Scarcely hath one given you glad welcome than you are off again. Who knows but I may try to win more of your gratitude, if you only hurry back while I am still in this good mood for granting unpalatable requests."

Henry Savile bent low, and murmured his earnest thanks for the king's graciousness, little thinking what fresh cause he should soon have for making a further demand upon it. Two hours later he was once more in the saddle on the great North road. Any one, to look at him, would have thought that he carried an order of condemnation rather than a full pardon within the inner pocket of his riding belt. But the fact was that now, for the first time, his mind seemed to have leisure to grasp all the horror

and heart-rending sadness of the news he had received.

More than a fortnight had passed since Ivie had been taken and put to the torture; more than a fortnight since his tender, gentle mother had stood by, a helpless witness to his sufferings; more than a fortnight had passed since the sick man, William Blair, had been flung into a damp and filthy dungeon, in which a dog could scarcely live; and it was pain even to think what his poor wife must have been enduring throughout those heart-breaking days. Something approaching another fortnight must pass before the Englishman could reach the scene of all this misery. And meantime-!

At that point in his meditations the rider put spurs to his horse, and dashed onwards in a headlong gallop, as though he thought a little extra effort might bridge over the "meantime," and turn it into "now."

H

CHAPTER XXXII.

"BUT BY STEALTH, FOR FEAR."

ENRY SAVILE spent many weary minutes

in counting and recounting the days that had passed since he left the peaceful,

simple little home of the McCalls in the grey December dawn. And as he counted he grew increasingly convinced that the king had done well to remind him that he was very far from sure, as yet, that he would be able to render any help to his friends. The two captives might already have been put to death, and the two women were perchance dead of broken-heartedness.

You can scarcely imagine how terrible it was to Savile to have to go on riding and resting, and sleeping and eating, with these drear apprehensions filling his mind. I have often wished that I could flash myself along the telegraph wires, and the Covenanters' English friend sorely wished that he had power to chain himself to the wind, and to compel it to bear him with its own swift speed to his desired goal. But,

after all, things were not in quite the desperate plight up there that he supposed. His four especial protégés had met with another friend also an Englishman.

Flemming was a very clever fellow in many ways, and something of a thinker. Since he had been in Scotland he had seen an immense deal of what was wicked and base, and in every way irreligious, amongst his own comrades; from the commanders down to the rawest recruits. But amongst the Covenanters he had found all otherwise. Even those of the persecuted class who were narrow-minded, and actually uncharitable in profession, lived noble and pure lives, exercised the most unbounded and self-sacrificing generosity towards each other, and a grand forbearance in acts, if not in words, as a rule, towards their enemies. These facts had their due weight on an observant mind.

It may also be confessed that the soldier was by no means a perfect character himself, and feelings of irritation against his autocratic, fierce-tempered superiors did in some measure help him to see the grander virtues of the persecuted unfortunates. Admiration for Ivie completed the change in his sentiments, and although he felt no call to subscribe to the Covenants, and no inclination to put his own neck into more danger than was necessary, by openly espousing the proscribed cause, he secretly resolved to aid it whereever practicable.

It was not honourable to take the pay of one side,

X

and then, while doing so, to serve the other, of course. But he had been in a bad school of late for learning strict notions of honour, and, as he contrived to help Mary Blair and old Elspeth Spence in getting safe off with Mistress McCall from the hall of justice, he privately decided that he deserved a pat on the back for being a very good fellow.

"Just fancy those women eluding even you!" ejaculated a wondering companion, who had been as much deceived as Flemming had intended folks should be by his great show of fruitless activity. He nodded his head with a knowing air at his comrade.

Ah, my boy, women are as hard to catch as weasels, and as slippery as eels. But trust me to remember the looks of this lot, and if I come across them again—ah, that's all! If I do, then you shall see what you shall see."

The other grinned, and on his side nodded his head sagaciously. He thought he knew that the poor creatures would meet with all the rougher treatment then for having escaped now. He would have been rather surprised had he known that Flemming had actually made an appointment with one of that "lot" for the coming night.