d rather yield of my own accord
than be taken, and I have no chance of escaping now. I had nothing to
do with the theft of the letters, but it iss no matter. My mother hass
not long to live, and she need neffer know if things go against me.
Keep it from her if you can.'

Marjorie stood by, white and trembling, and nearer to shedding tears
than she could have believed possible.

'You can come with me for the present, Neil,' said the laird; 'we'll
see what can be done.'

A pony cart was chartered from the nearest farmhouse. Marjorie got in
with the others and a sorrowful party set out across the moors.

When they reached Ardnavoir, the ill news seemed to have preceded them,
for Reggie looked stormily from an upper window and then came into the
hall where Allan and the Grahams were already waiting, and Mrs. Stewart
came downstairs accompanied by Tricksy, whose eyes were very big and
dark with dismay.

Neil dropped into the chair that was offered him, and leant his head on
his hand, while the others gathered silently around him. Allan and
Reggie were nearest, one on either side, and Reggie put his hand
protectingly on his friend's shoulder. In the background, Mr. Stewart
fidgeted with the things that had been carried in from the pony cart,
and Tricksy was silently shedding tears, poor little girl, leaning
against her mother.

The only one who could think of anything to do was Laddie, who came in,
planted himself in front of Neil, and endeavoured to express his
sympathy by slipping his nose under the lad's disengaged hand. Almost
without knowing that he was doing it, Neil put out his hand and
caressed the dog's smooth head, and the two remained thus in a silent
understanding.

Every one was feeling very miserable when there came a sound of wheels;
a gig drew up at the door, and several persons sprang down and burst
into the hall.

CHAPTER XV

HAMISH TO THE RESCUE

The storm which awakened Marjorie had also roused Hamish. He awoke to
hear the rain pouring down, and the burn rushing along in heavy spate.

'Fine fishing, to-morrow,' said Hamish to himself, 'but, whew! how the
wind's rising. The rain can't last long at this rate.'

He lay a little longer, listening to the rushing of the burn; then he
began to think of the people who might be without shelter that night;
Neil (who he hoped would take shelter in one of the cottages if the
gale continued) and the gipsies, and Gibbie MacKerrach.

At th