re speaking to one of his majesty's officers high in the
service."

"It is for that very reason, sir," returned Henry, firmly, "that I desire
to know what right he has to detain me without a legal warrant. Were he a
civil officer of the law I should know my duty was submission."

"Your friend, here," said Claverhouse to the veteran, coolly, "is one of
those scrupulous gentlemen, who, like the madman in the play, will not
tie his cravat without the warrant of Mr Justice Overdo; but I will let
him see, before we part, that my shoulder-knot is as legal a badge of
authority as the mace of the Justiciary. So, waving this discussion, you
will be pleased, young man, to tell me directly when you saw Balfour of
Burley."

"As I know no right you have to ask such a question," replied Morton, "I
decline replying to it."

"You confessed to my sergeant," said Claverhouse, "that you saw and
entertained him, knowing him to be an intercommuned traitor; why are you
not so frank with me?"

"Because," replied the prisoner, "I presume you are, from education,
taught to understand the rights upon which you seem disposed to trample;
and I am willing you should be aware there are yet Scotsmen who can
assert the liberties of Scotland."

"And these supposed rights you would vindicate with your sword, I
presume?" said Colonel Grahame.

"Were I armed as you are, and we were alone upon a hill-side, you should
not ask me the question twice."

"It is quite enough," answered Claverhouse, calmly; "your language
corresponds with all I have heard of you;--but you are the son of a
soldier, though a rebellious one, and you shall not die the death of a
dog; I will save you that indignity."

"Die in what manner I may," replied Morton, "I will die like the son of a
brave man; and the ignominy you mention shall remain with those who shed
innocent blood."

"Make your peace, then, with Heaven, in five minutes' space.--Bothwell,
lead him down to the court-yard, and draw up your party."

The appalling nature of this conversation, and of its result, struck the
silence of horror into all but the speakers. But now those who stood
round broke forth into clamour and expostulation. Old Lady Margaret, who,
with all the prejudices of rank and party, had not laid aside the
feelings of her sex, was loud in her intercession.

"O, Colonel Grahame," she exclaimed, "spare his young blood! Leave him to
the law--do not repay my hospitality by shedding men's blood o