"I told you, my lord, that I had met a certain Laird of Luaig," commenced Achanna.
"Yes, yes, at Grave."
"Well, I had my suspicions that the pretended laird of Luaig was no other than he we all wot of."
"Whom mean you—Gray?"
"Sir Patrick Gray of Foulis, captain of the king's guard; and now my suspicions are confirmed."
The earl started, and his eyes flashed with dusky fire, but controlling his emotion he simply asked,—"How?"
"I discovered him by watching the Lady Murielle. Cogsbones! I knew that the cock bird would soon find the hen."
"Sirrah," said the earl frowning, "you speak of a sister of the countess of Douglas—quick to the point, lest I hang you from that window by one of the curtain ropes!"
"Your pardon, Lord Earl; my speech is ruder than my thoughts," cringed the other.
"Quick!" continued the earl, almost grinding his teeth.