e, and
rode away to join such of his followers as were waiting dispersed at a
safe distance to mark his fate, but without attempting anything for his
assistance.

'Oh, Sir!' burst forth Malcolm; but then, even as he was about to utter
his thanks, his eye sought for the guardian who had ever been his
mouthpiece, and, with a sudden shriek of dismay, he cried, 'My uncle!
where is he? where is Sir David?'

'Alack! alack!' cried Lilias. 'Oh, brother, I saw him on the ground; he
fell before my horse. I saw no more, for the Master held me, and muffled
my face. Oh, let us back, he may yet live.'

'Yea, let us back,' said Sir James, 'if we may yet save the good old man.
Those villains will not dare to follow; or if they do, Nigel--Brewster,
you understand guarding the rear.'

'Sir,' began Lilias, 'how can we thank--'

'Not at all, lady,' replied Sir James, smiling; 'you will do better to
take your seat; I fear it must be _en croupe_, for we can scarce dismount
one of your guards.'

'She shall ride behind me,' said Malcolm, in a more alert and confident
voice than had ever been heard from him before.

'Ay, right,' said Sir James, placing a kind hand on his shoulder; 'thou
hast won her back by thine own exploit, and mayst well have the keeping
of her. That rush on the caitiff groom was well and shrewdly done.'

And for all Malcolm's anxiety for his uncle, his heart had never given
such a leap as at finding himself suddenly raised from the depressed down-
trodden coward into something like manhood and self-respect.

Lilias, who, like most damsels of her time, was hardy and active, saw no
difficulties in the mode of conveyance, and, so soon as Malcolm had
seated himself on horseback, she placed one foot upon his toe, and with a
spring of her own, assisted by Sir James's well-practised hand, was
instantly perched on the crupper, clasping her brother round the waist
with her arms, and laying her head on his shoulder in loving pride at his
exploit, while for her further security Sir James threw round them both
the long plaid that had so lately bound her.

'Dear Malcolm'--and her whisper fell sweetly on his ear--'it will be
bonnie tidings for Patie that thou didst loose me all thyself. The false
tyrant, to fall on us the very hour Patie was on the salt sea.'

But they were riding so fast that there was scant possibility for words;
and, besides, Sir James kept too close to them for private whispers. In
about an hour's