With Sabrino's assistance, the young lady got out upon the ladder, which she clutched with a death-grasp, while the wind expanded her dress, and blew all her long black hair about her face.
"Oh, cousin Ashkirk!" she exclaimed, in great terror.
"Oh, cousin Sybil!" replied the earl, jestingly, in the same tone, to reassure her; "I will swear that thou hast the handsomest ankles and the handsomest leg in all the Lothians."
This intimation made her come down very quickly, and the earl received her in his arms with joy.
"Now, my lady mother, quick, bestir thee," said he, in a low voice. But terror seized him when a cry from his mother replied, and the explosion of a petronel followed; then Sabrino sprang from the chamber, and descended the ladder with the rapidity of light, and with his poniard in his hand.
There was blood on its blade!
A servant of Barncleugh had rushed in, and, surprising them, had fired his petronel at the negro, who, springing at him like a tiger-cat, inflicted a deadly wound with his poniard.
"Away, Sybil! come away! We have not a moment now to lose!" said the earl.
"But your mother, your poor mother!" she urged.
"Her own folly has done it all; those ten minutes had freed her; but she must be left for the present;" and, almost dragging Sybil, he led her out of the barbican and down the valley, keeping carefully on its shadowy side, which, fortunately, lay towards the beach.