’’Tis no room for a fine miss like you,’ said Nicol, with dangerous politeness. ’I’ll take it upon myself to usher you into our sanctum sanctorum—’tis more genteel.’ ’But if this is the parlour,’ said Alison, looking round her nervously, and perhaps beginning a little to lose her head, ’if this is the parlour, had I not better remain here?’ ’No, no,’ said Nicol, speciously, ’we have the other—much more private. Here anyone may come at any moment, you see, and if your business is private—’ It was a touch of devilish cunning, for terror seized Alison at the thought of an intrusion. ’If, then, you think it wiser—’ she said, looking about her with startled eyes. ’Ay, come away—much wiser’—said Nicol. ’See here!’ He held open the door of the inner room—its only entrance—and Alison walked in. The moment her feet were over the threshold, Nicol slammed-to the door upon her, and locked it with a loud report. ’There, my bonny bird!’ he called, his grinning mouth to the panel; ’we’ve got you safe and sound! Are ye "alone" enough in there for your taste? ’Od, it’s there you’ll bide till Rob comes hame and lets ye out!’ He exploded in a fit of laughter; here was a piece of horse-play after his own heart. Stunned and stupid, Alison had tottered a few steps into the inner room. A bed in the corner, unmade since the morning, showed that it was the poet’s sleeping chamber. And she was trapped beyond all possibility of escape. *CHAPTER XXXIX.* The letter which Nicol had conveyed from Burns to Herries lay unopened at the office of the latter for a matter of about, perhaps, thirty-six hours. Delivered very late in the evening, it was not conveyed to Herries that night, because he had already retired. In the early morning hours he was summoned to the death-bed of his partner, and he only returned from that melancholy scene in order, after a hurried meal, to set off to a remote village in the Pentlands, where, under an engagement with the dead man, he must make arrangements for the funeral. Returning at night, dog-tired, after many hours spent in the saddle (for it had been necessary to go on horseback), he had not then attempted to examine his correspondence. But the first letter that he opened in the morning was that from St. James’s Square.