le daylight lasted,
though assured that the vessel would not come up till night. As soon as
a signal could be made in the morning for the yawl, he passed to the
sloop, where he had a conference with Macdonald, the consequence of
which was, that as soon as he was set ashore the sloop again stood out
to sea.

Mrs Ruthven and Lady Carse saw this, as they stood hand in hand at the
door of the new dwelling. They kissed each other at the sight. They
had already kissed each other very often, for they called themselves
dear and intimate friends who had now one great common object in life--
to avenge Lady Carse's wrongs.

"Well, what news?" they both cried, as Mr Ruthven came towards them,
panting from the haste with which he had ascended.

"The tenant is gone back," said he, "he has returned to Sir Alexander to
contradict his last news--of your being drowned. By-the-way, I promised
to contradict it, too--to the man who is watching for the body every
tide."

"Oh, he must have heard the facts from some of the people at the
chapel."

"If he had he would not believe them, Macdonald says, on any other
authority than his. Nor will he leave his post till he finds the body,
or--"

"Or sees me," cried Lady Carse, laughing. "Come, let us go and call to
him, and tell him he may leave off poking among the weeds. Come; I will
show you the way."

And she ran on with the spirits and pace of a girl. Mr and Mrs
Ruthven looked at each other with smiles, and Mrs Ruthven exclaimed,
"What a charming creature this was, and how shocking it was to think of
her cruel fate." Mr Ruthven shook his head and declared that he
regarded the conduct of her persecutors with grave moral disapprobation.
Meantime Lady Carse looked back, beckoned to them with her hand, and
stamped with her foot, because they were stopping to talk.

"What a simple creature she is! So childlike!" exclaimed Mrs Ruthven.

"We must quicken our pace, my dear," replied her husband. "It would not
be right to detain the lady when she wishes to proceed."

But now Lady Carse was beckoning to somebody else--to little Kate
Ruthven, who, with her brother Adam, was peeping from the door of their
new home.

"Come, Katie," said her mother, "don't you see that Lady Carse calls
you? Bring Adam, and go with us."

Kate turned very red, but did not come. Lady Carse came laughing back
to fetch them; but they bolted into the house, and, when still pursued,
scrambled under a be