God! Ye fetched down my coat
to-day. It was the first hint I had that this damned dancing master was
here, for he broke jyle; who would have guessed he was fool enough to
come here, where--if we were in the key for it--we could easily set
hands on him? He must have stolen the coat out of my own room; but
that's no' all of it, for there was a letter in the pocket of it when
it disappeared. What was in the letter I am fair beat to remember, but I
know that it was of some importance to myself, and of a solemn secrecy,
and it has not come back with the coat."

Mungo was taken aback at this, but to acknowledge he had seen the letter
at all would be to blunder.

"A letter!" said he; "there was nae letter that I saw;" and he concluded
that he must have let it slip out of the pocket.

The Chamberlain for the first time relinquished the support of the
doorway, and stood upon his legs, but his face was more dejected than
ever.

"That settles it," said he, filling his chest with air. "I had a small
hope that maybe it might have come into your hands without the others
seeing it, but that was expecting too much of a Frenchman. And the
letter's away with it! My God! Away with it!

'... Bigged a bower on yon burn-brae,
And theekit it o'er wi' rashes!'"

"For gude sake!" said Mungo, terrified again at this mad lilting from a
man who had anything but song upon his countenance.

"You're sure ye didnae see the letter?" asked the Chamberlain again.

"Amn't I tellin' ye?" said Mungo.

"It's a pity," said the Chamberlain, staring at the lantern, with eyes
that saw nothing. "In that case ye need not wonder that her ladyship
inby should ken all, for I'm thinking it was a very informing bit
letter, though the exact wording of it has slipped my recollection. It
would be expecting over much of human nature to think that the foreigner
would keep his hands out of the pouch of a coat he stole, and keep any
secret he found there to himself. I'm saying, Mungo!"

"Yes, sir?"

"Somebody's got to sweat for this!"

There was so much venom in the utterance and such a frenzy in the eye,
that Mungo started; before he could find a comment the Chamberlain was
gone.

His horse was tethered to a thorn; he climbed wearily into the saddle
and swept along the coast. At the hour of midnight his horse was
stabled, and he himself was whistling in the rear of Petullo's house, a
signal the woman there had thought never to hear again.

She re