The first fall was Volney's, and I grudged it him; but as I took my way to Balmerino's lodgings my heart was far from heavy. The girl was safe for the present. I knew Volney well enough for that. That his plan was to take her to The Oaks and in seclusion lay a long siege to the heart of the girl, I could have sworn. But from London to Epsom is a far cry, and between them much might happen through chance and fate and--Kenneth Montagu. ----- [2] Speldering in the glaur--sprawling in the mud. CHAPTER III DEOCH SLAINT AN RIGH! "You're late, Kenn," was Balmerino's greeting to me. "Faith, my Lord, I'm earlier than I might have been. I found it hard to part from a dear friend who was loathe to let me out of his sight," I laughed. The Scotchman buckled on his sword and disappeared into the next room. When he returned a pair of huge cavalry pistols peeped from under his cloak. "Going to the wars, my Lord?" I quizzed gaily. "Perhaps. Will you join me?" "Maybe yes and maybe no. Is the cause good?" "The best in the world." "And the chances of success?" "Fortune beckons with both hands." "Hm! Has she by any chance a halter in her hands for Kenn Montagu and an axe for Balmerino since he is a peer?" "Better the sharp edge of an axe than the dull edge of hunger for those we love," he answered with a touch of bitterness. His rooms supplied the sermon to his text. Gaunt poverty stared at me on every hand. The floor was bare and the two ragged chairs were rickety. I knew now why the white-haired peer was so keen to try a hazard of new fortunes for the sake of the wife in the North. "Where may you be taking me?" I asked presently, as we hurried through Piccadilly. "If you ask no questions----" he began dryly. "----You'll tell me no lies. Very good. Odd's my life, I'm not caring! Any direction is good enough for me--unless it leads to Tyburn. But I warn you that I hold myself unpledged." "I shall remember." I was in the gayest spirits imaginable. The task I had set myself of thwarting Volney and the present uncertainty of my position had combined to lend a new zest to life. I felt the wine of youth bubble in my veins, and I was ready for whatever fortune had in store. Shortly we arrived at one of those streets of unimpeachable respectability that may be duplicated a hundred times in London. Its characteristics are monotony and dull mediocrity; a dead sameness makes all the houses appear alike. Before one of these we stopped. Lord Balmerino knocked, A man came to the door and thrust out a head suspiciously. There was a short whispered colloquy between him and the Scotch lord, after which he beckoned me to enter. For an instant I hung back. "What are you afraid of, man?" asked Balmerino roughly.