d's servant let us in. In the parlour we
found Mr Raymond and her Ladyship.

"I am thankful to see you safe back!" cried the former; and his manner
suggested to me the idea that he had not felt at all sure of doing so.
"Is all well accomplished?"

"Angus Drummond is out, and Keith is in," replied Ephraim. "As to the
rest, we must leave it for time to reveal. I am frightfully tired of
quarrelling; I never did so much in my life before."

"Has Miss Courtenay done her part well?" asked her Ladyship.

"Too well, if anything," said Ephraim. "I was sadly afraid of a slip
once. If that fellow had insisted on carrying in the basket, Cary, we
should have had a complete smash of the whole thing."

"Why, did you see that?" said I.

"Of course I did," he answered. "I was never many yards from you. I
lay hidden in a doorway, close to. Cary, you make a deplorably good
scold! I never guessed you would do that part of the business so well."

"I am glad to hear it, for I found it the hardest part," said I.

Her Ladyship came up and helped me to change my dress.

"The Cause owes something to you to-night, Miss Courtenay," said she.
"At least, if Colonel Keith can escape."

"And if not, Madam?"

"If not, my dear, we shall but have done our duty. Good-night. Will
you accept a little reminder of this evening--and of Lady Inverness?"

I looked up in astonishment. Was this beautiful woman, with her tinge
of sadness in face and voice, the woman who had so long stood first at
the Court of Montefiascone--the Mistress of the Robes to Queen
Clementina, and as some said, of the heart of King James?

My Lady Inverness drew from her finger a small ring of chased gold. "It
will fit you, I think, my dear. You are a brave maid, and I like you.
Farewell."

I am not at all sure that my Aunt Kezia would have allowed me to accept
it. Some, even among the Tories, thought my Lady Inverness a wicked
woman; others reckoned her an injured and a slandered one. I gave her
what Father calls "the benefit of the doubt," thanked her, and accepted
the ring. I do not know whether I did right or wrong.

To run down-stairs, say good-bye to Mr Raymond,--by the way, would Mr
Raymond have allowed my Lady to enter his house, if he had believed the
tales against her?--and hasten back with Ephraim to Bloomsbury Square,
took but few minutes. Lucette let us in; I think she had been watching.

"The good Lord has watched over Mademoiselle," said