"Halbert," faltered Lady Bruntisfield, "your father was a leal and faithful vassal——"
"And I, his only son, will stand by you and yours to the death, even as he would have done. In—in—away to the Beech-grove, ere worse come of it. Mother, ye donnart jaud, doun wi' the lid, and pouch the key. And now, may I run the gauntlet from right to left, if you (whoever you are) that tirl the risp so hard get not a taste of King Jamie's new sweyne-feather!" He screwed his dagger or bayonet to the muzzle of his matchlock, and then demanded in a loud voice—
"Stand, stranger. Who goes there?"
"One who must speak with Lady Bruntisfield, whom I know to be concealed here. Open, and without a moment's delay."
"Lost—lost! Gude Lord, keep thy hand over them and us!" murmured Elsie, clinging to Meinie, as another loud and impatient blow shook the well-barred door, and found a terrible echo in the trembling hearts of the fugitives and their protectors.
CHAPTER XIII.
A REVERSE.
A fredome is a noble thing!
Fredome makes man to have liking;
Fredome al solace to man gives,
He lives at ease that frely lives.
BARBOUR'S BRUCE.
Walter was still where we left him in the eleventh chapter, an inmate of the city prison.
The gloom, monotony, and degradation affected his mind, not less than the confinement and noxious vapours of the place did his health, and he felt his strength and spirit failing fast. The longing for freedom became one moment almost too intense to be borne, and the next he sank into a listless apathy, careless alike of liberty and life. And as his health suffered, and his ardour died his aspect became (though he knew it not) more haggard and ghastly on each succeeding day.