h a mad woman incarcerated,
and only to manifest herself when danger and mystery threatened.

"In ye come! in ye come!" cried the servant, trembling excessively till
the flambeau shook in his hand and his teeth rattled together. "In ye
come, and I'll bar the door."

It was time, indeed, to be in; for the enemy leaped at the oak as Count
Victor threw it back upon its hinges, rather dubious of the bars that
were to withstand the weight without.

The sight of them reassured, however: they were no light bars Mungo
drew forth from their channels in the masonry, but huge black iron-bound
blocks a foot thick that ran in no staples, but could themselves secure
the ponderous portals against anything less than an assault with cannon.

It was obvious that the gentry outside knew the nature of this
obstruction, for, finding the bars out, they made no attempt to force
the door.

Within, the Count and servant looked at each other's faces--the latter
with astonishment and fear, the former with dumb questioning, and his
ear to the stair whence came the woman's alarms.

"The Baron tell't us there would be trouble," stammered the retainer,
fumbling with the pistol so awkwardly that he endangered the body of his
fellow in distress. "Black Andy was never kent to forget an injury, and
I aye feared that the low tides would bring him and his gang aboot the
castle. Good God! do you hear them? It's a gey wanchancy thing this!" he
cried in terror, as the shout "Loch Sloy!" arose again outside, and the
sound of voices was all about the castle.

The woman within heard it too, for her cries became more hysterical than
ever.

"D--n ye, ye skirlin' auld bitch!" said the retainer, turning in
exasperation, "can ye no steeck your jaw, and let them dae the howlin'
outside?" But it was in a tone of more respect he shouted up the stair
some words of assurance.

Yet there was no abatement of the cries, and Montaiglon, less--to do
him justice--to serve his curiosity as to Annapla than from a natural
instinct to help a distressed woman, put a foot on the stair to mount.

"Na, na! ye mauna leave me here!" cried Mungo, plucking at his sleeve.

There was something besides fear in the appeal, there was alarm of
another sort that made Montaiglon pause and look the servitor in the
eyes. He found confusion there as well as alarm at the furore outside
and the imminent danger of the castle.

"I wish to God he was here himser," said Mungo helplessly, but