a man, an' dinna disgrace both
yourself an' me."

"O sir! I winna disgrace, or in any manner dishonour ye," said
Simon--"only I do not see the smallest necessity for us to die, and
especially when both our lives could be saved by yer doing yerself a
good turn."

While he spoke, the sound of the sentinels' footsteps, pacing to and
fro, ceased. The prison-door was opened; Simon fell upon his knees--the
laird looked towards the intruder proudly.

"Your lives are spared for another day," said a voice, "that the laird
o' Harden may have time to reflect upon the proposal that has been made
to him. But let him not hope that he will find mercy upon other terms;
or that, refusing them for another day, his life will be prolonged."

The door was again closed, and the bolts were drawn. The spirit of Sir
Gideon was too proud and impatient to spare the lives of his prisoners
for four days, as he had promised to his daughter to do, and he now
resolved that they should die upon the following day.

The sun had again set, and the dim lamp shed around its fitful and
shadowy lights from the table of the prison-room, when the maiden, who
had carried the letter to the laird's mother, again entered.

"This is kind, very kind, gentle maiden," said he; "would that I could
reward ye! An' hoo fares it with my puir mother?--what answer does she
send?"

"An' oh, ma'am, or mistress!" cried Simon, "hoo fares it wi' my dear
wife an' bairns? I hope ye told them all that I desired ye to say. Hoo
did she bear the news o' being made a widow? An' what did she say to my
injunction that she was never to marry again?"

"Ye talk wildly, man," said the maiden, addressing Simon; "it wasna in
my power to carry yer commands to yer wife; but, I trust, it will be
longer than ye expect before she will be a widow, or hae it in her power
to marry again."

"O ye angel! ye perfect picture!" cried Simon, "what is that which I
hear ye say? Do ye really mean to tell me that I stand a chance o' being
saved, an' that I shall see my wife an' bairns again?"

"Even so," said she; "but whether ye do or do not, rests with yer
master."

"Speak not o' that, sweet maiden," said the laird; "but tell me, what
says my mother? How does she bear the fate o' her son; an' hoo does she
promise to avenge my death?"

"She is as one whose heart-strings are torn asunder," was the reply,
"and who refuses to be comforted; but she wad rather hae another dochter
than lose an only son