But Ian, even as he did so, turned to where Aline lay, her face all white amid the ruddy gold. He leaned above her. She was not dead, nor even sorely hurt, but stunned and dazed and cut about and bruised. He raised her with great tenderness and bore her from the scene of carnage just as the evening fell. A cold breath blew upon his face and he fancied he heard a voice that hissed--“Woe’s me, we are foiled; it is on us the blow has fallen, even ere the darkness came. Too late, too late.” At that moment the sun sank and the light vanished behind the hills. The rout was now complete. Here and there a few individuals made stand against their pursuers, while little groups of wounded men were crying for succour. The haugh was littered with so many corpses of those who had gone forth that morning in the healthful beauty of their youth, that it was a sight most grievous to behold. Ian stumbled with his burden. He himself had been twice sadly wounded again. Whither should he go? There were no houses in sight. He remembered, however, that the house of the Laird of Dalwhinnie was only about two miles away. There was nowhere else to go, but both the new wounds and the old were exceeding sore and it was with great difficulty that he carried her. He bore her to the foot of the hill and summoned four troopers, and with their assistance mounted a horse. He would not let any one else touch the child and, accompanied by the troopers, he rode to the house. The laird was not a protestant, but Ian was graciously received and offer was made to accommodate as many of the wounded as possible. “You had liever pay special attention to those poor English varlets,” said Ian. “There will be few to give them heed.” The Lady smiled a sad smile and led the way to a beautifully appointed room. “Your Grace has a wondrous fair child with you,” she said. “I marvel not at your care for him. Is he sore hurt?” “I trust not,” said Ian, as he laid Aline gently down. He dared not let any one help him, lest Aline’s secret should be discovered; so he dressed her wounds himself and put her to bed. CHAPTER XXVII THE BIRTHDAY PARTY After the battle the Earl of Hawick disbanded the greater part of his forces, retaining but a small nucleus in case it should be necessary to bring military aid to the party of Argyle and Glencairn in support of their covenant against the regent. With this small force he moved northward. The Duke was far too sore hurt to travel and neither he nor Aline were able to move for some time. As soon, however, as they could sit a horse they set out for the Castle of Menstrie, where they arrived in due course and were most warmly welcomed by the Duchess of Ochil and her daughter Shiona, who had been anxiously awaiting Ian’s return after they first received news of his arrival in Scotland.