"Bess, that tongue of yours will cost you your head one of these good times," I remarked, while I rubbed my face with the towel.
"I would sooner lose my head," retorted Bess, "than have my mouth shut by fear. I know, Sir Malcolm, that I'll not die till my time comes; but please the good God when my time does come I will try to die talking."
"That you will," said I.
"True word, Sir Malcolm," she answered, and I left her in possession of the field.
I went into the courtyard, and when Sir George saw me he said, "Malcolm, come with me to my room; I want a word with you."
We went to his room.
"I suppose you know of the fellow's escape last night?" he said.
"Yes," I replied, "Bess told me about it in the kitchen."
It seemed to me that my words said, "I did it."
"Not only was the fellow liberated," said my cousin, "but the keys to all the outer gates and doors of the Hall have been stolen and carried away. Can you help me unravel this affair?"