"I'm not, Lieutenant , and I suggest you watch your tongue." He paused, perceiving for the first time the danger of the man before him. Not even his son knew more..... "We throw the bodies out the window, then have them collected by Simon's men and hurled into the sea. Arthur's escort will be too unnerved by his death to remember why he came here tonight, if they ever knew. Then tomorrow we put two other women in their place---my former mistress and her mother---who'll say only what we tell them to say. All done as neat as neat." "Well it don't sound such a sure thing to me," rumbled Ballard, whose one thought amidst the closing web of treacheries was to have his way with the girl, possibly even steal her away. "So who bloody asked you!" cried Purceville, drawing a great pistol from the inner lining of his coat. But the sudden outburst brought an answering pain from his chest, and he fell back against the wall for support. Yet he still had fire enough to point the weapon squarely at his subordinate, who had taken a menacing step towards him. "I catch my breath. . .then we go in, and do it!" Ballard could only glare at him, his hopes for lust slipping away. The two women, holding whispered counsel of their own, had begun to form plans for an ambush, when a second unexplained sound met their ears. Soft, but infinitely nearer it came: some round and yielding object had struck the floor gently, then bounded a short distance further with a rustle of hay. Again Mary dropped down on all fours, groping, but this time toward a more definite source. Again her hand met something solid, which she could not at first identify. It seemed to be. . .a ball of twine, wrapped about some heavier object. "Anne," she whispered anxiously, rejoining her companion. "It must have been cast through the window. What can it be?" Holding it up in what poor light could be found, the older woman made out a tiny sheet of parchment wrapped beneath the first few strands, on which some kind of message had been scrawled. She hurriedly worked it out with her fingers, beginning to understand. Recognizing the word `rope', as well as the hand which must have written it, she needed no further explanation. "It is your way out," she replied firmly. "Yours. Remember that, both of you. And as you love me, do as I say. You must leave me behind ." With that she moved swiftly to the window, and wrapping the end of the twine securely about her left hand, with her right cast the remaining bundle as hard and as far as she could. Michael, still at his distance, unsure of success, did not see her. But Stephen could; and sensing the same urgency that had driven the Highlander to sudden action, he called to him in a harsh whisper. "Michael!"