en prevented all
assistance from the torches, for not ten yards before them was
distinguishable. Dispirited and disappointed, the king and his
companions threw themselves around the watchfires, in gloomy meditation,
starting at the smallest sound, and determined to renew their search
with the first gleam of dawn; the hurried pace of Alan, as he strode up
and down, for he could not rest, alone disturbing the stillness all
around.

CHAPTER XIII.

It was already two hours after midnight when a hurried tread, distinct
from Alan's restless pacing, disturbed the watchers, and occasioned many
to raise themselves on their elbows and listen.

It came nearer and nearer, and very soon a young lad, recognized as Sir
Alan's page, was discerned, springing from crag to crag in breathless
haste, and finally threw himself at his sovereign's feet.

"It is not too late--up, up, and save her!" were the only words he had
power to gasp, panting painfully for the breath of which speed had
deprived him. His hair and dress were heavy with the damp occasioned by
the fog, and his whole appearance denoting no common agitation.

"Where?" "How?" "What knowest thou?" "Speak out." "What ailest thee,
boy?" were the eager words uttered at once by all, and the king and
others sprung to their feet, while Alan laid a heavy hand on the boy's
shoulder, and glared on him in silence; the lad's glance fell beneath
his, and he sobbed forth--

"Mercy, mercy! my thoughtlessness has done this, yet I guessed not,
dreamed not this ill would follow. But oh, do not wait for my tale now;
up, up, and save her ere it be too late!"

"And how may we trust thee now, an this is the effect of former
treachery?" demanded Robert, with a sternness that seemed to awe the
terrified boy into composure.

"I am not treacherous, sire. No, no! I would have exposed my throat to
your grace's sword rather than do a traitor's deed: trust me, oh, trust
me, and follow without delay!"

"Speak first, and clearly," answered Alan, fiercely; "even for my
mother's sake the sacred person of the King of Scotland shall not be
risked by a craven's word. Speak, an thou wouldst bid me trust
thee--speak, I charge thee."

"He is right--he is right; let him explain this mystery ere we follow,"
echoed round; and thus urged, the boy's tale was hurriedly told.

It was simply this. Some days previous, when wandering alone about the
rocks, he had met a woodman, whom he recognized as one of