Suddenly there was a sound of hurrying footsteps with an accompanying one of broad Scotch oaths in no low key. A lackey carrying a bag-pipe rushed into the room and out again without noticing its occupant. At his very heels was a big Scotchman of large and ridiculous proportions; red hair, red face, red whiskers, red mustachios, and bandy-legs, petticoats and all; and a tongue ripping out hot oaths. In a moment Katherine was upon her feet, her eyes flashed forth indignation. The keen eyes of the Scot saw her at a glance. He looked, stared, then bent almost to the floor before her and waited thus for her to speak. She, not accustomed to the masculine courtesies of polite breeding, thought his attitude was too prolonged for either a bow of homage or humiliation; and she straightway in a voice that was tremulous with emotion, said: "Has the bitterness of thy tongue taken root in thy stomach?" Quickly he raised himself at her first word and gazed with enamoured looks at the amber folds of hair, her glowing face; and with panting breath his eyes rested upon the round fulness of her form as it palpitated with rightful perturbance. "Betake thyself before I inform Lord Cedric of thy presence!" And she rapped smartly her knife-handle upon the table. "Betake thyself, begone!" He did not stir nor find breath until she stood forth from the table and he saw her beauteous being from head to dainty toe of convent sandal. Then he found voice, and in broad Scotch begged her clemency, advancing toward her the while and almost kneeling in his humility. "If I did not know the queen--" "'Tis presuming for thee to speak of knowing her; thou dishonourest the noble plaid thou wearest. Begone from me, sir, instantly. Begone, I say!" "Nay, I shall not begone. Tell me who thou art, I know thee not!" "Tell thee? Nay, 'twould displease my lord if he knew I held converse with thee thus. He would no doubt send thee from the castle." "But who is thy lord, pray?" "Lord Cedric of Crandlemar!" "Ah, ah,--but it does not displease him. Lord Cedric says thou shalt talk to him the balance of his days." The maid shrunk further from him in sheer loathing. At the moment Janet entered, and the rough Scot turned upon her, and in a voice of command, said,-- "Who is this maid, woman?" Janet scanned him for a moment and a bit of truth flashed upon her. "'Tis the honoured daughter of Sir John Penwick," and she bowed to the floor. "Ah! ah!!" He retreated in dismay and for a moment was silent, encumbered with emotions of surprise, admiration, wonderment and doubt. "Then thou art my ward and thou hatest me already--" "Thou, thou Lord Cedric, the master of this great house?" And Katherine in the confidence of Janet's presence, laughed in scorn and swept from the room disdaining his commands to remain longer. For a moment he stood stunned as it were; then started toward the door and looked after their retreating forms, exclaiming the while,--