regret at
losing the excitements of their late employment, and of the lady's
presence and conversation. They talked her over while eating their
suppers, wondered what rewards she would send, and how angry Macdonald
would be; and they were about to lie down to sleep, when the night air
was rent by such a scream as they had never heard. They ran out upon
the rocks, and there they heard from the sloop shriek upon shriek.

"What is it?" exclaimed David. "They are murdering her!"

"No," said Rollo, after a pause. "They may be up to that, if this is a
trick; but they would not do it here, nor so soon. They could do it
more safely between this and Saint Kilda, with a rope and heavy stone.
No--they are not murdering her, whoever they may be."

"What, then? Who are they?"

"It may be a trick, and that would put the lady in a great passion; and
when she is in a passion, let me tell you, not all the birds in the face
of this rock can make more noise. I am not sure, but I think that is a
passionate scream."

"I wish it would leave off," said David, turning away. "I don't like
it."

"If you don't like it," said Rollo, "I should hardly think she can. I
must see about it. I think it is a trick, and that she is in a
passion."

It was a trick from beginning to end. It was Macdonald's sloop; and
Macdonald himself was on board, prepared to carry his prisoner to Saint
Kilda. The conversation overheard by Rollo in the cavern was a trick.
A similar conversation had been held that day in _every_ cave known to
Macdonald along that part of the shore, in hopes of some one version
being overheard by the lady's accomplices. She had fallen into the trap
very easily.

"And now," said Macdonald to a clansman, "I have nearly done with the
business. _We_ have only to land her in Saint Kilda; and then it will
be the Macleod's affair. I shall be glad to have done with the witch.
I have no wish to carry people anywhere against their wishes; and I
never would, if Sir Alexander Macdonald were not in it. But I shall
have done with the business presently."

CHAPTER TEN.

WHICH REFUGE?

Macdonald's self congratulations were premature. He had more uneasiness
to undergo about the lady than he had suffered yet. When her screams of
rage had sunk into sobs and moans, and these again had been succeeded by
silence, he had left her undisturbed to cry herself to sleep. At
daylight he had gone to take a look, but she had, as he sup