"And leave all this," she said, wistfully, "and you?"
"Nay, no need to leave me—if you will stay with me," quoth Wat, cheerfully; "but to come with me to mine own land, to be my love and my queen."
"And what would you do with me there?" she said, looking up at him. "Would not you be an outlaw, and I no better than an encumbrance while you remain in hiding?"
"I think not that the pursuit is so keen as it was before the king began to protect those of his own religion," answered Wat. "I believe we should find that the worst of the shower had slacked. And then there is always the old tower in the middle of the loch. Since my mother's death no one has dwelt in it. We would be sure of a shelter there."
Kate shook her head wistfully, like one with the same desires but better knowledge.
"Wat, my dear," she made him answer, "you speak by the heart, and it is my heart also, God knows; but now I must speak a word or two by the head. You and I must e'en bide a wee and wait. It is better so. I will not be a charge on you. If I am not welcome at home, why, there is always sweet Grizel McCulloch at the Ardwell to whom I can go. She will gladly give me a hiding-place and a bite for company's sake till the blast goes by. If all speak the truth in Holland where we come from, it will not be long ere the king has filled up the measure of his folly."
"In that case I might have to fight for the fool and his folly both," said Wat, quietly.
"Aye, there it is!" cried Kate; "a lass in her heart cares nought for king or prince when once she has given herself to love. But a man will hold to his own way of it, and put in peril his happiness and the happiness of another in order to have the right shade of color set upon the cushions of the throne."
Wat smiled at her yet more gently.
"In Holland," he said, "I fought for the prince and was true to him; but it is another matter here, where we are under the rule and sway of the anointed king of the ancient Scottish name."