"You seem disturbed, Mary," said Macdonald, playfully. "Now, I'll venture to say I can guess your thoughts: this star-gazing is a great tell-tale. You were just now thinking that, as the tug of the war is over, some lad who has borne a musket lately, will be very naturally tripping this way to-night, instead of going home to see his mother. Come—isn't that a good guess?"
"Do you know him, sir?" asked Mary, with composure.
"Aye, to be sure I do: a good, brave fellow, who eats well, drinks well, and fights well."
"All men do that now," replied the maiden, "but I am sure you are wrong, sir, if you think any such considers it worth his while to come here."
"He must come quickly, or we cannot let him in without a countersign," said the officer: "sergeant, order the tattoo to beat, it is nine o'clock. Mary, stay, I must cross-question you a little about this same gallant."
"Indeed, sir, I did but jest, and so I thought you did. My father says it is not proper I should loiter to talk with the men; good night, sir: it is our time for prayers." And with these words the young girl withdrew into the house.
In some half hour afterwards Mary escaped by another door and, taking a circuitous path through the garden, she passed behind the sentinel and sped towards the mill, intent upon keeping her appointment with the friends of Butler. As soon as she reached the river bank, she quickened her pace, and hurried with a nimble step towards the distant thicket.
"What ho! who goes there?" shouted the voice of a man from the neighborhood of the mill: "who flies so fast?"
"Faith, Tom, it must be a ghost," said a second voice, loud enough to be heard by the damsel, who now increased the speed with which she fled towards the cover.
In an instant two of the soldiers of the guard rushed upon the track of the frightened girl.