"I never had a legal head," she replied, with an utterly expressionless countenance. Strange rose, and walked twice up and down the room. "Persuade Rob to act reasonably," he went on, "and you will have his ultimate gratitude, and, what is more, that of the Duke as well. Will you help us?" "I'll see Rob," she replied. "Thank you..." "But only on two conditions." "Yes?" "That I see him alone, and that he has a fair week to think it over." Strange hesitated. "Your first condition is, of course, simple," he replied, "but the second is more difficult." And he hurried from the room. In a minute or two he returned, "The Duke agrees," he said; "and now, please, follow me." They passed through the corridor up the stairs. Then, opening the door of Rob's cell, Strange bowed her in, and, closing it, turned the key. Rob was lying face downwards upon the bed; he never lifted his head as she entered, and so she paused and listened at the keyhole until the footsteps had died away. Then, "Rob," she called, and fell upon her knees by the bedside. He raised his face and looked at her with sullen anger. "What do you want with me?" he asked. But for answer she placed her finger on her lips, and drew a file and pistol from her pocket. "Hide them," she whispered. When he had done so, in a dream, and turned his head, a coil of rope was lying on the ground, and his aunt was rebuttoning her coat. "Tak' it, Rob," she said. "Wake up, lad." Suddenly hope sprang to his eyes. With a leap he was off the bed, and the rope was below the hay upon which he lay. "Oh, aunt," he said, "I did not understand." "Tuts," she replied. "Now, hark ye, Rob, for there's muckle to grasp. Yon Muckle John came to me last night, and sent me here with the things ye have. He also sent this letter," and she fumbled for a moment in her pocket, and handed over a slip of paper to him. "Read it by-and-by," she said, "but first listen here. They will no hang ye for a week--that's sure as death, and it's yon old Lovat that they are after. They will search upper Loch Arkaig in a fortnight, but they would do it sooner were they to ken just what you know. Belike, Rob, if ye told them ye would win free, and in the meantime the word could reach Lovat to seek another place." "No," said Rob, "that I could not do. Suppose he were too ill to escape, or the message strayed?" "Then, Rob, there is Muckle John, and he has a way, he says, though I canna believe in it mysel'. But the letter from him will show you." Rob drew the paper out, and read it in silence. It ran: