Wat was rejoiced to know that he was about to see Jack Scarlett, both because he had thought him dead in the tide-race, and also that together they might devise some plan of escape for themselves and for the delivery of Kate from her durance. At an inner door his guide halted and listened long and earnestly. The chamber in which they stood was dark save for the red ashes of a turf fire in the centre. Bess Landsborough tapped lightly on the inner door and opened it quietly. Then she took Wat by the shoulder and pushed him in. "Ye said your 'Carritches'[B] to me, and ye said them weel, or, my faith, 'tis not here ye should have found yoursel' this nicht! Gang in there, lad, and say the 'Proofs' and the 'Reasons Annexed.'" [B] Catechism. Wat, greatly puzzled, stepped within. He found himself in a small room, dark save when the dying fire of peat in the outer chamber threw red glimmers into it. "Jack--Jack Scarlett!" whispered Wat, astonished that the old soldier did not greet him. "He must be very sound asleep!" he thought. CHAPTER XXXII THE SURRENDER OF THE BELOVED But something in the air of the chamber struck to the heart--something different, subtle, unfamiliar, dazing. As his eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, he saw the figure of a girl lying on a couch of heather over which was thrown a rug made of the skins of wild animals. The face was turned from him, but the girl was not asleep, for he could see that quick, helpless sobs shook her frame, and that her attitude betokened the abandonment of despair. Wat Gordon's heart leaped within him and then stood still, when he realized that for the first time in his life he stood within the chamber of his love. At the noise of the opening door the girl slowly turned her head, and her eyes fell on the figure of Wat. The young man sank on his knees a little way from the couch. The girl continued to gaze at him without speech, and as for Wat, he could find no fitting words. He strove for utterance, but his tongue was dry to the roots, and the roof of his mouth parched like leather. Presently Kate sat up with a world of wonder and fear on her face. She was wrapped about the shoulders in a great shawl of fleecy wool, such as a hundred years ago the shipwrecked mariners of the Spanish Armada had taught these northern islanders to knit. Beneath it, here and there, appeared the white glimmer of fine linen cloth, such as could only come from the lint wheels of the Lowlands. The girl's lips were parted, and her eyes, great and black, appeared so brilliant that the shining of them seemed to lighten all her face there in that dim place. "Wat," she said, "you have come back to me! I knew you would, and I am not afraid. I knew you would come if you could and speak once to me. For you are mine in all worlds, and you gave your life for me. It is but a dream, I know--but ah, such a sweet dream!"