Angus caught up the basket and dashed through the door, and I followed, making all the noise I could, and scolding everybody. We had only just got outside the gate when Ephraim came running up, and snatched the basket from Angus. There was a few minutes' pretended struggle between them, and then Ephraim chased Angus into a side-street, and came back to me, whom he began to scold emphatically for encouraging such idle ne'er-do-wells as that rascal Clowes. I tried to give him as good as he brought; and so we went on, jangling as we walked, until nearly within sight of Mr Raymond's door. Then, declaring that I would not speak to him if he could not behave better, and that I was not going to walk in his leading-strings, I marched on with my head held very high, and Ephraim trudged after me, looking as sulky as he knew how. We rapped on the back-door, and Mr Raymond's servant let us in. In the parlour we found Mr Raymond and her Ladyship. "I am thankful to see you safe back!" cried the former; and his manner suggested to me the idea that he had not felt at all sure of doing so. "Is all well accomplished?" "Angus Drummond is out, and Keith is in," replied Ephraim. "As to the rest, we must leave it for time to reveal. I am frightfully tired of quarrelling; I never did so much in my life before." "Has Miss Courtenay done her part well?" asked her Ladyship. "Too well, if anything," said Ephraim. "I was sadly afraid of a slip once. If that fellow had insisted on carrying in the basket, Cary, we should have had a complete smash of the whole thing." "Why, did you see that?" said I. "Of course I did," he answered. "I was never many yards from you. I lay hidden in a doorway, close to. Cary, you make a deplorably good scold! I never guessed you would do that part of the business so well." "I am glad to hear it, for I found it the hardest part," said I. Her Ladyship came up and helped me to change my dress. "The Cause owes something to you to-night, Miss Courtenay," said she. "At least, if Colonel Keith can escape." "And if not, Madam?" "If not, my dear, we shall but have done our duty. Good-night. Will you accept a little reminder of this evening--and of Lady Inverness?" I looked up in astonishment. Was this beautiful woman, with her tinge of sadness in face and voice, the woman who had so long stood first at the Court of Montefiascone--the Mistress of the Robes to Queen Clementina, and as some said, of the heart of King James? My Lady Inverness drew from her finger a small ring of chased gold. "It will fit you, I think, my dear. You are a brave maid, and I like you. Farewell." I am not at all sure that my Aunt Kezia would have allowed me to accept it. Some, even among the Tories, thought my Lady Inverness a wicked woman; others reckoned her an injured and a slandered one. I gave her what Father calls "the benefit of the doubt," thanked her, and accepted the ring. I do not know whether I did right or wrong.