"It would be dangerous, Rose."
"I'm thinking it is laughing at me ye are, Laird Arondelle. You'll bide here and marry yon leddy," said the girl, tossing her head.
"No, on my soul! How can I, when I have married you? Have you not got your marriage certificate with you?"
"Ay, I hae got my lines, but I dinna like ye to bide here, near your leddy, whiles I gang my lane to London."
"Rose, our safety requires that you should go alone to London. You cannot trust me; yet see how much I trust you. You have in that bag, which I have confided to your care, uncounted treasures. Take it carefully to London and to the house on Westminster Road. Conceal it there and wait for me."
"Who is yon lad that cam' wi' ye frae the castle?" inquired the girl, pointing to the other man who had withdrawn apart.
"He is one of the servants of the castle, who is in my confidence. Never mind him. Hurry away now, my lass. You have just time to cross the bridge and reach the station, to catch the train. You are not afraid to go alone?"
"Nay, I'm no feared. But dinna be lang awa' yersel', my laird, or I shall be thinking my thoughts about yon leddy," said the girl, as she folded the dark vail around and around the hat, and without further leave-taking, started off in a brisk walk toward the bridge.
She passed through the castle grounds and over the bridge, and went on to the station, without having met another human being.
She secured her ticket, as has been related, and when the train stopped, she took her place on a second-class car.