"Will Gordon!" cried Wat, starting back, "was it for this that we two kept Wellwood's men at bay under the arch at Holyrood? For this that we lay shoulder to shoulder on the chill moors, that in these latter days you should charge me with crimes of which I know nothing? Hidden Kate? Why, is not Kate here, behind the glass of that window? Does she not sleep soundly, recking nothing of evil or the sorrow of others, upon her bed? Is not her maiden heart as ever free and careless--" "Wat, I believe you, lad," said Will; "it was a hasty and ill-conceived thought of mine. I know you love us all overmuch to bring harm to our lassie. But, certainly, Kate is lost--has been carried off--and now they are seeking her everywhere, charging her, forsooth, with the slaying of my Lord Barra." At the last words Wat laughed a little scornful laugh. He had not yet taken in the terrible import of the news concerning Kate's loss. But it seemed a foolishly monstrous thing that even in jest she should be charged with the death of Barra, while not ten yards behind him, in the dark of the arched doorway, stood the Little Marie, with her dagger scarcely dry in her garter. Then, after a moment, Will's first words suddenly came back to him, as if they had been echoed from the tall buildings which stood about them. "You do not mean it--Kate gone?" he said, dully, and without comprehension; "it is impossible. Who so wicked in all this land as to have done the thing?" Then Will told him all the tale of the false message and of their home-coming. "It is Barra's trick--what other?" Wat said, at once; "I saw that he loved her--if such a poisonous reptile can love. But I thought not that even he could devise her wrong, else had I slain him on the spot." Wat meditated a little while in silence. "Did Kate tell you if he had spoken aught to her of love?" "He offered her the most honorable marriage, and yet greater things when the prince should come to his own. But she would have none of him," replied Will Gordon. "It is enough," cried Wat. "Certainly this is an affair of my lord's. Dead or alive, I will trace out his plots till I find his trail. It may be, after all, but a matter of Haxo the Bull, his Calf, and his Killer. Give me no more than a sword and pistols, and my belt with the gold that is in your strong-box." "Will you not come up with me, Wat?" said Will Gordon. "Come, cousin." "Nay," said Wat, "there is not time. It is but now that I have escaped from their prison. In an hour there will be the hue-and-cry, and then they will surely search your house. I must be far on the sea-road by daybreak. Only furnish me with necessities, cousin mine, and let me go. My humblest service to your wife--but tell her not till after I am gone!"