g out his hand, "the messenger
brought me as token that he had come from you this ring which I
had given you, vowing that should you call me to your aid I would
come immediately, even from a stricken field."

The blood had rushed into the girl's face as she saw the ring.
Then she turned very pale. "Sir Archibald Forbes," she said in
a low tone, after walking for a minute or two in silence, "I feel
disgraced in your eyes. How forward and unmaidenly must you have
thought me thus to take advantage of a vow made from the impulse
of sudden gratitude."

"No, indeed, lady," Archie said hotly. "No such thought ever entered
my mind. I should as soon doubt the holy Virgin herself as to deem
you capable of aught but what was sweet and womanly. The matter
seemed to me simple enough. You had saved my life at great peril
to yourself, and it seemed but natural to me that in your trouble,
having none others to befriend you, your thoughts should turn to
one who had sworn to be to the end of his life your faithful knight
and servant. But," he went on more lightly, "since you yourself
did not send me the ring and message, what good fairy can have
brought them to me?"

"The good fairy was a very bad one," the girl said shortly, "and I
will rate him soundly when I see him for thus adventuring without
my consent. It is none other than Father Anselm; and yet," she
added, "he has suffered so much on my behalf that I shall have to
forgive him. After your escape my uncle in his passion was well
nigh hanging the good priest in spite of his holy office, and drove
him from the castle. He kept me shut up in my room for many weeks,
and then urged upon me the marriage with his son. When he found
that I would not listen to it he sent me to St. Kenneth, and there
I have remained ever since. Three weeks ago Father Anselm came to
see me. He had been sent for by Alexander of Lorne, who, knowing
the influence he had with me, begged him to undertake the mission
of inducing me to bend to his will. As he knew how much I hated
John of Lorne, the good priest wasted not much time in entreaties;
but he warned me that it had been resolved that unless I gave way
my captivity, which had hitherto been easy and pleasant, would be
made hard and rigorous, and that I would be forced into accepting
John of Lorne as a husband. When he saw that I was determined not
to give in, the good priest certainly hinted" (and here she coloured
again hotly) "that you would, if s