who told him his duty in a letter that should have been
written in letters of gold. I have seen the epistle myself, and though
I could not read it, the very sight of the seals of the right reverend
prelates and noble and true barons which hung at it made my heart leap
for joy. Thou shouldst not have kept this secret, my child--but it is no
time to tax thee with thy fault. Go down, get me some food. I will mount
instantly, and go to our Lord Provost and have his advice, and, as I
trust, his protection and that of other true hearted Scottish nobles,
who will not see a true man trodden down for an idle word."

"Alas! my father," said Catharine, "it was even this impetuosity which I
dreaded. I knew if I made my plaint to you there would soon be fire and
feud, as if religion, though sent to us by the Father of peace, were fit
only to be the mother of discord; and hence I could now--even now--give
up the world, and retire with my sorrow among the sisters of Elcho,
would you but let me be the sacrifice. Only, father--comfort poor Henry
when we are parted for ever; and do not--do not let him think of me too
harshly. Say Catharine will never vex him more by her remonstrances, but
that she will never forget him in her prayers."

"The girl hath a tongue that would make a Saracen weep," said her
father, his own eyes sympathising with those of his daughter. "But I
will not yield way to this combination between the nun and the priest to
rob me of my only child. Away with you, girl, and let me don my clothes;
and prepare yourself to obey me in what I may have to recommend for your
safety. Get a few clothes together, and what valuables thou hast; also,
take the keys of my iron box, which poor Henry Smith gave me, and divide
what gold you find into two portions; put the one into a purse for
thyself, and the other into the quilted girdle which I made on purpose
to wear on journeys. Thus both shall be provided, in case fate should
sunder us; in which event, God send the whirlwind may take the withered
leaf and spare the green one! Let them make ready my horse instantly,
and the white jennet that I bought for thee but a day since, hoping to
see thee ride to St. John's Kirk with maids and matrons, as blythe a
bride as ever crossed the holy threshold. But it skills not talking.
Away, and remember that the saints help those who are willing to help
themselves. Not a word in answer; begone, I say--no wilfullness now. The
pilot in calm weather w