“You had better go, Mistress Campbell—and join your allies who come to burn my house.”
“I came because of that,” she answered wildly. “I came to warn you—my courage failed—I could not let it happen.”
On her knees, with her hands clasped on her bosom and her head bent, she leaned against the chair, heavily.
Lord Stair turned to her with a swift fierceness.
“This is a woman’s paltriness,” he cried. “To do the thing and lament it—I had liked you better if you had led the mob you have incited instead of this—”
“I would not have them kill you,” she murmured.
“Oh, get up from your knees,” he said, scornful. “You are true neither to your love nor to your hate! Get back to your kind and carry through what you have begun.”
There was a confused distant sound without.
“They are coming!” shrieked Delia.
“Well, you knew it,” he smiled: “Go you and join them.”