His escape had been almost a miracle, as he had no friends in the country and he had to think and carry on everything himself; he had been nearly caught again twice and he had shuddered as he thought of the fate of George Wishart whom he had himself seen strangled and burnt at the stake. It was true that for the moment he was safe, but for how long? He looked at the beautiful child and shuddered again. Suppose he should in any way implicate her. The priests would have no more pity upon her than upon himself. No, that he would not do. He would die rather than that. Would it not be best for him to go away at once rather than be a possible cause of injury to anything so gentle and brave and fair? He rose up as the thought came to him; yes, he would go away; it should never be said that he had brought calamity upon a child. He stumbled across the floor and made his way down to the passage, but he had not realised how weak he was. Hitherto he had been buoyed up by excitement; now that that was over the pain was more than he could stand and he fainted and fell heavily to the ground. When he again came to, he realised the impossibility of his getting away down the long passage, and he also began to wonder whether after all he might not be of more use if he stayed. He did not as yet know who the child was; it was clear that she was Scots and did not belong to the family of Holwick Hall; perhaps in the workings of Providence he had been sent there to be of some use to her. He could at least wait and find out a few things and then see what was best to be done. So he crawled back to the room again and waited for the morning. To while away the time he took off his shoes to see that they were all right. They were peculiarly made, with false inner soles of many thicknesses of parchment, covered with oil silk and several layers of paint. These were the precious documents that had been purposely written in that shape. The false soles were secured by stout canvas and thin leather covers which formed part of the shoes. They could not be taken out without cutting the shoes to pieces. As far as he could see they seemed to have sustained no damage in spite of the wetting. There were three minute slits or peepholes in the corners and middle of the room. These were evidently intended as lookout places and were covered with small sliding shutters which he opened. The night seemed almost interminable, but at length the dawn began to break. He waited as long as he dared and then woke Audry. “Where am I?” she exclaimed; “oh, I remember. How are you and how is Aline?” She rose as she spoke and went towards the sleeping figure. “I suppose we ought to wake her,--Aline, dear, wake up.” Aline opened her eyes and gradually roused herself. She was certainly better than on the previous night, but still obviously very ill. However, there was nothing to be done but to get her upstairs somehow, and then there was no alternative but to leave her in bed.