ll not be safe
since----" She stopped, and at the memory of what had happened there the
wine crept into her cheeks.

"And who is Malcolm?" I asked gently.

"My brother. He iss an agent for King James in London, and he brought me
with him. But he was called away, and he left me with the gillie. To-night
they broke into my room while Hamish was away, weary fa' the day! And now
where shall I go?"

"My sister is a girl about your age. Cloe would be delighted to welcome
you. I am sure you would like each other."

"You are the good friend to a poor lass that will never be forgetting, and
I will be blithe to burden the hospitality of your sister till my brother
returns."

The sharp tread of footsteps on the stairs reached us. A man was coming
up, and he was singing languidly a love ditty.

"What is love? 'Tis not hereafter,
Present mirth has present laughter,
What's to come is still unsure;
In delay there lies no plenty,
Then come kiss me sweet and twenty.
Youth's a stuff will not endure."

Something in the voice struck a familiar chord in my memory, but I could
not put a name to its owner. The girl looked at me with eyes grown
suddenly horror-stricken. I noticed that her face had taken on the hue of
snow.

"We are too late," she cried softly.

We heard a key fumbling in the lock, and then the door opened--to let in
Volney. His hat was sweeping to the floor in a bow when he saw me. He
stopped and looked at me in surprise, his lips framing themselves for a
whistle. I could see the starch run through and take a grip of him. For
just a gliff he stood puzzled and angry. Then he came in wearing his ready
dare-devil smile and sat down easily on the bed.

"Hope I'm not interrupting, Montagu," he said jauntily. "I dare say though
that's past hoping for. You'll have to pardon my cursedly malapropos
appearance. Faith, my only excuse is that I did not know the lady was
entertaining other visitors this evening."

He looked at her with careless insolence out of his beautiful dark eyes,
and for that moment I hated him with the hate a man will go to hell to
satisfy.

"You will spare this lady your insults," I told him in a low voice. "At
least so far as you can. Your presence itself is an insult."

"Egad, and that's where the wind sits, eh? Well, well, 'tis the manner of
the world. When the cat's away!"

A fla