“Nay, nay, my love,” replied the knight, feigning the tranquillity he did not feel; “think not so. I must have heard the arrival of the party, had we been yet surrounded. There still is time to escape from the net prepared for us. Once on horseback, between the darkness of the night, and the wild nature of these hills, we may manage to escape.”
Ere Lilias could make answer to this cheering discourse, Elspeth entered the apartment.
“Haste!” she exclaimed in an emphatic whisper, “a moment yet is left. Sir Mungo has not arrived. Leave, oh leave, this fearful place!” and she wrung her hands impatiently.
The lovers lost no time in obeying this invitation. Two large riding-cloaks were supplied by Elspeth, in order to conceal their forms, if they should unhappily be met by Sir Mungo; while, still more to defeat detection, it was agreed that Lilias should mount the nurse’s pony.
“And you, Elspeth,” said the lady, with a kind-heartedness which no personal danger could destroy, “what shall become of you?”
“Fear not for me,” replied Elspeth chokingly; “I fear nothing—fly!”
Maurice now led his lady to the open plain, and here saw, with sorrow, that the moon, which shone dazzlingly bright, would destroy almost every hope of escaping the recognition of Sir Mungo Campbell, should that individual meet them; and this was, alas! too soon to happen. They had only turned the angle of the building, with the intention of taking the hillward path, when they saw a band of armed men, at the head of whom stood one whom hatred and fear at once enabled both to pronounce the man they sought to shun.
“Who comes there?” cried Sir Mungo, harshly.
“Friends to King Charles,” replied Maurice, undauntedly.
“That may well be,” replied Campbell, “and yet deep foes to Scotland. Sir Maurice Ogilvy, I arrest thee of high treason!”