t the family returned from church.

Surprised at finding Margaret bolted in this parlour, Sir John learnt
that "she had been frightened, she knew not why, at the solitude of
her own room, and had bolted herself in the parlour." Although she was
soon laughed out of her childish fears, Lady Swinton was quick enough
to perceive that Margaret had not communicated everything, and
insisted upon knowing the whole truth. The child made no objection, as
she had not been told to keep the secret from her mother. After
describing all that happened, Lady Swinton kissed her daughter
tenderly and said, "Since you have kept the secret so well, you shall
know something more of this strange lady."

Thereupon Lady Swinton pushed aside one of the oaken panels in the
parlour, which revealed a small room beyond, where sat the mysterious
lady. "And now, Margaret dear," said her mother, "listen to me. This
lady is persecuted by cruel men, who, if they find her, will certainly
take her life. She is my guest, she is now yours, and I am sure I need
not tell you the meanest peasant in all Scotland would shame to betray
his guest."

Margaret promised to keep the secret, never evincing the slightest
curiosity to know who the lady was, and it is said she had reached her
twentieth year when one day the adventure of her childhood was
explained. It seems that the lady in question was a Mrs. Macfarlane,
daughter of Colonel Charles Straiton, a zealous Jacobite. When about
nineteen years old she married John Macfarlane--law agent of Simon
Fraser, Lord Lovat--who was many years her senior. Soon after her
marriage Mrs. Macfarlane made the acquaintance of Captain John Cayley,
a commissioner of Customs, and on September 29th, 1716, he called on
her at Edinburgh, when, for reasons only known to herself or him, she
fired two shots at him with a pistol, one of which pierced his heart.

According to Sir Bernard Burke, it was when she would not yield to
Captain Cayley's immoral overtures that the latter vowed to blacken
her character, a threat which he so successfully carried out "that not
one of her female acquaintances upon whom she called would admit her;
not one of all she met in the street would acknowledge her." Desperate
at this villainy on his part, Mrs. Macfarlane, under pretence of
agreeing to Captain Cayley's overtures, sent for him, when fully
confident that he was about to reap the fruit of his infamous daring
he obeyed her summons. But no sooner h