not marry him because he
was the chief opponent of her cause, or if he succeeded in winning
her, he would most likely be discredited at Court by this suspicious
marriage. It was better not to see her, or to run any further risks.
He had made many sacrifices--all his life was to be sacrificed for
his cause--and this would only be one more. He tried also to think
the matter out from her side, and although he hated to think that
she was a traitress trying to ensnare him for her own ends, yet it
might be that her family were making a tool of her to seduce him from
the path of duty, and although he doubted whether she was betrothed
to Pollock, yet it might be true, and he certainly was not going to
be Pollock's unsuccessful rival. Altogether, it was expedient that
they should not see one another, and Claverhouse contented himself
with sending a courteous message by Lord Ross to the earl and Lady
Jean, and busied himself with his public and by no means agreeable
task of Covenanter-hunting. As, however, he had received the very
thoughtful and generous hospitality of the castle on his last
visit, and as Lord Ross was constantly saying that the earl would
like to see him, he determined to call on the afternoon before his
departure. Lady Cochrane, as usual, did not appear, and neither did
her daughter, and after a futile conversation with Dundonald, who
seemed feebler than ever, Claverhouse left, and had it not been for a
sudden whim, as he was going through the courtyard, he had never
seen Jean Cochrane again, and many things would not have happened.
But there was a way of reaching the town through the pleasaunce,
and under the attraction of past hours spent among its trees
Claverhouse turned aside, and walking down one of its grass walks,
and thinking of an evening in that place with Jean, he came suddenly
upon her on her favorite seat beneath a spreading beech.

"I crave your pardon, my Lady Jean," said Claverhouse, recovering
himself after an instant's discomposure, "for this intrusion upon your
chosen place and your meditation. My excuse is the peace of the garden
after the wildness of the moors, but I did not hope to find so good
company. My success in Paisley Castle has been greater than among the
moss-hags."

"It is a brave work, Colonel Graham, to hunt unarmed peasants"--and
for the first time Claverhouse caught the ironical note in Jean's
speech, and knew that for some reason she was nettled with him--"and
it seems