Half an hour later the cart had gone, bearing away Percy and all his personal possessions; and Margery Maitland, having gazed after it until it had gone from sight, for the first time since her husband died sat down and wept bitter tears.
CHAPTER XV.
CONSTERNATION AT THE CASTLE—FRIGHT AT THE LANDING.
Two days passed after our hero’s removal to the inn, and not a sign from old Donald. Percy had visited the castle and reported progress to the earl. He told how the pirate chief had been arrested, and how he had made his escape with two bullets in his arm.
“He must have had help,” said the old nobleman, “or the officers who took him did not wish to keep him. The story sounds to me like a fable of his own invention. You say he is trying to make his men your enemies?”
“Yes, my lord. He is leaving no stone unturned that can work to my injury.”
“Then, depend upon it, the story of the arrest is all a sham, and so are his wounds. I know our Headlandshire constables better than that. But wait till we have him in sight.”
“It can not be long, my lord.”
“I pray it may not be.”
Late on the evening of this second day, so late that Percy had retired to his chamber at the inn for the night, as he sat by his small table reading, he was disturbed by a rap on his door, and upon bidding the applicant to enter, the door was opened by the rosy-faced host, who ushered into the room Donald Rodney.