citement had kept her up; but she now felt
completely worn out, and accepted without protest Archie's decision
that a halt must be made.

The men were already gathering sticks, and a bright fire soon blazed
near the spot where she had seated herself. Ere long some venison
steaks were broiled in the flames. At Archie's earnest request
Marjory tried to eat, but could with difficulty swallow a few
morsels. A bower of green boughs was quickly made for her, and the
ground thickly piled with fresh bracken, and Marjory was in a very
few minutes sound asleep after the fatigue and excitement of the
day.

With the first dawn of morning the men were on their feet. Fresh
sticks were thrown on the fire and breakfast prepared, for the
march would be a long and wearisome one.

"Breakfast is ready, Mistress Marjory," Archie said, approaching
the bower.

"And I am ready too," the girl said blithely as she appeared at
the entrance. "The sleep has done wonders for me, and I feel brave
and fresh again. I fear you must have thought me a terrible coward
yesterday; but it all seemed so dreadful, such a wild and wicked
thing to do, that I felt quite overwhelmed. Today you will find me
ready for anything."

"I could never think you a coward," Archie said, "after you faced
the anger of that terrible uncle of yours for my sake; or rather,"
he added, "for the sake of your word. And now I hope you will eat
something, for we have a long march through the forest and hills
before us."

"Don't fear that I shall tire," she said. "I am half a mountaineer
myself, and, methinks, can keep on my feet as long as any man."

The meal was hastily eaten, and then the party started on their
way.

"I have been wondering," the girl said, as with light steps she
kept pace with Archie's longer strides, "how you came to know that
I was in the convent."

Archie looked surprised.

"How should I know, Mistress Marjory, but through your own messenger?"

"My own messenger!" Marjory exclaimed. "You are jesting, Sir Archie."

"I am not so, fair lady," he said. "Surely you must remember that
you sent a messenger to me, with word that you were captive at St.
Kenneth and needed my aid?"

The girl stopped for a moment in her walk and gazed at her companion
as if to assure herself that he was in earnest. "You must be surely
dreaming, Sir Archie," she said, as she continued the walk, "for
assuredly I sent you no such message."

"But, lady," Archie said, holdin