apparent sign, save his appearance there at
that hour, of his having been engaged in the unlawful undertaking for
which he had been so hotly pursued.

"I have paid well for my love-errantry," said he, as he took a
handkerchief, and wiped the sweat from his face. "There is not another
beauty in Scotland for whom I would have toiled as I have now done. Have
I given them the slip? Mayhap I may, unless I am right in that fearful
conjecture, suggested by the appearance of my strange pursuers."

"Ho, there!" cried the voice of a man, rushing up on horseback. "What is
this, Robert?"

"My father!" ejaculated the youth; "what has brought you from Craigton
at this hour?"

"Robert! Robert!" ejaculated a voice from a bedroom window, at that
moment drawn up--"why have you placed a woman in my bedroom, and locked
her in?"

"Is that you, my love?" rejoined the father, in answer to the cry of his
wife. "Why, here is some infernal mystery. Your mother and I arrived
here to-day. We heard you were at St Boswell's, and I left her here that
I might go and join you at the market. Now I have returned to witness a
scene that baffles all my wits. Here is a man who has a claim upon you
which your mother corroborates by her extraordinary inquiry."

The cavalcade at that moment came up--Giles in the rear, still
brandishing his rung, and muttering incoherent threats against the
abductor. The youth was surrounded: his father cried for information,
his mother screamed from the window. Giles demanded restitution, and the
voice of the abducted female was heard in shrill tones over all.

"Ha! Matty, lass, this is sad wark," cried the farmer, on recognising
the voice of his wife.

"Is it possible, Robert Melville," said the father, "that you could
disgrace your family and your pedigree, by carrying off the wife of this
honest farmer--a woman stricken in years--and place her in the bedroom
occupied by your mother?"

"It's owre true," cried Giles, with something like a suppressed laugh.
"I see her face at the window. He came to Kelpiehaugh habited as an auld
man, wi' a grey beard stuck on his chin, and a scratch wig on his head;
and, in return for a supper and a bed, carried aff my helpmate, wi' whom
I hae lived, in love and honour, for thirty years."

The scene was getting more extraordinary. The young man was sceptical of
the truth of Giles' statement; but he could not disprove it by stating
what he conceived to be the veritable fact--that h