“So one Macdonald lives!” she said, and shivered through her heavy furs.
“Have ye brought forty Campbells to murder him!” shrieked Delia.
Lady Breadalbane looked in keen curiosity at the haggard woman who held the Macdonald’s head.
“Do not use that word!” she cried. “We are innocent of this night’s work—innocent, I say! Who are you to look so at me?”
“Why have ye come?” asked Delia bitterly.
For answer the Countess swept across the room, dropped on her knees beside Ronald and took his hand.
“I came,” she said in an eager tone, “to find if any lived—to find you—Ronald—we are innocent, you understand—innocent!”
He was gazing up into her lovely face with a passion even the chill of death could not quench utterly.
“What do you want—Margaret Campbell!”
She snatched a paper from her bosom and held it with a trembling hand out to him.