"Leave her with me for a time, cousin. I am sure she will be better if we do not question her now." Then Dorothy seemed to awaken. "Malcolm is right, father. Leave me for a time, I pray you." Sir George left us, and waited with a party of yeomen a short distance from the gate for the return of Sir William with his prisoners. Dorothy and I sat upon a stone bench, near the postern through which Sir William and the guardsmen had entered, but neither of us spoke. After a long, weary time of waiting Sir William came out of the castle through the postern, and with him came Mary Stuart. My heart jumped when I saw her in the glare of the flambeaux, and the spirit of my dead love for her came begging admission to my heart. I cannot describe my sensations when I beheld her, but this I knew, that my love for her was dead past resurrection. Following Mary came Lord Rutland, and immediately following his Lordship walked John. When he stepped through the postern, Dorothy sprang to her feet and ran to him with a cry, "John, John!" He looked at her in surprise, and stepped toward her with evident intent to embrace her. His act was probably the result of an involuntary impulse, for he stopped before he reached the girl. [Illustration] Sir George had gone at Sir William's request to arrange the guards for the return march. Dorothy and John were standing within two yards of each other. "Do not touch me," cried Dorothy, "save to strike me If you will. The evil which has come upon you is of my doing. I betrayed you to the queen." I saw Mary turn quickly toward the girl when she uttered those words. "I was insane when I did it," continued Dorothy. "They will take your life, John. But when you die I also shall die. It is a poor reparation, I know, but it is the only one I can make." "I do not understand you, Dorothy," said John. "Why should you betray me?" "I cannot tell you," she answered. "All I know is that I did betray you and I hardly know how I did it. It all seems like a dream--like a fearful monster of the night. There is no need for me to explain. I betrayed you and now I suffer for it, more a thousand-fold than you can possibly suffer. I offer no excuse. I have none. I simply betrayed you, and ask only that I may die with you." Then was manifest in John's heart the noblest quality which God has given to man--charity, strengthened by reason. His face glowed with a light that seemed saintlike, and a grand look of ineffable love and pity came to his eyes. He seemed as if by inspiration to understand all that Dorothy had felt and done, and he knew that if she had betrayed him she had done it at a time when she was not responsible for her acts. He stepped quickly to the girl's side, and caring naught that we all should see him, caught her to his breast. He held her in his arms, and the light of the flambeaux fell upon her upturned face.