Counsellor Abadie was a friend of our own advocate. I had often heard of him as one of the most eminent and upright attorneys of Edinburgh. "This," said Master Dunner, "is Lady Katharine Clanranald, the heroine of the adventure of which I have told you." "Madam," said the other attorney, bowing low, "I am vastly honoured to have the privilege of your acquaintance. As a friend and admirer of the Earl of Clanranald, your noble father, I want to thank you and congratulate you, in the name of Scotland, for your filial devotion and splendid courage." "Sir," said I, "'tis but what any daughter might have done." "But what few would have ventured upon," he answered. "We are not here to exchange compliments--forgive me, Abadie," said Master Dunner impatiently. "Will you explain the situation to Lady Katharine?" "Madam," said the other advocate, "I am charged with the delivery of an important message to you." "From my father?" "From Sir Hugh Richmond." "No harm hath happened to him?" I cried in great alarm. "None yet," was the answer, "but he hath been--er"--the advocate paused--"apprehended. He hath summoned me as his counsel, and he now desires me to say to you that it is known that he was in company with a woman disguised as a man; that the hue and cry is to be raised for you in the morning; that strict search is to be made, and that, if you have business which calls you from Edinburgh, you must get away to-night." "What hath happened to Sir Hugh Richmond?" I asked. "Why, nothing," began Master Abadie speciously. "Sir," persisted I, now thoroughly alarmed, "I am my father's daughter. I am much beholden to the gallant gentleman you represent. I must know the whole truth." "Tell her what she wants to know, Abadie," said my old friend sharply. "She is of the stuff that must know and that can bear." I thanked him with a look. "He hath been arrested, charged with dereliction of duty, giving aid and comfort to the King's enemies, high treason, in short," was the answer. "My God!" I exclaimed. "His whole course is known. It is believed, since he entered the city in friendship with you, that the robbery was arranged between you; that he was privy to it before and accessory to it afterward." "But could he not say that it was I, and, by delivering me up, have saved himself?" "Madam, he could not." "Why not?" "Can you, a soldier's daughter, ask that question?" returned Master Abadie. "His honour as a gentleman..." "Oh!" I gasped. "Is that all?" "All and enough, your ladyship." "Is it known who...?" "Not yet. They seek a woman, not you especially." "I will go at once and deliver myself up to Sir Alexander Forfair and declare the whole story." "But your father!" said Master Dunner. "The information must be spread before the King. We dare not trust the papers and the money to another hand." "Was ever woman so torn," cried I, "between her father and her...!" I stopped. What was I about to say?