"But where do you go, Sir Malcolm? You remember that of which we talked? In England no place but Haddon Hall will be safe for you, and the ports are so closely guarded that you will certainly be arrested if you try to sail for France."
"I know all that only too well, Will. But I must go, and I will try to escape to France. If you wish to communicate with me, I may be found by addressing a letter in care of the Duc de Guise."
"If I can ever be of help to you," said Will, "personally, or in that other matter, Queen Mary, you understand,—you have only to call on me."
"I thank you, Will," I returned, "I shall probably accept your kind offer sooner than you anticipate. Do you know Jennie Faxton, the ferrier's daughter?"
"I do," he responded.
"I believe she may be trusted," I said.
"Indeed, I believe she is true as any steel in her father's shop," Will responded.
"Good-by, Will, you may hear from me soon."
I mounted and rode back of the terrace, taking my way along the Wye toward Rowsley. When I turned and looked back, I saw Dorothy standing upon the terrace. By her side, dressed in white, stood Madge. Her hand was covering her eyes. A step or two below them on the terrace staircase stood Will Dawson. They were three stanch friends, although one of them had brought my troubles upon me. After all, I was leaving Haddon Hall well garrisoned. My heart also was well garrisoned with a faithful troop of pain. But I shall write no more of that time. It was too full of bitterness.