Beside the bower he saw Sir David Falconer lying upon the ground with the scarf of Hailes (which he knew well) twisted round his throat. The young man was not dead, but nearly strangled, and was now beginning to recover. Near him, on her knees in a stupor of grief, with blood-shot eyes, and with her dress disordered, Sybilla was sobbing. Powerless and unable to rise, she stretched her hands to her father, saying-- "Save him, father--save him!" For a moment the heart of the ambitious old man was touched; he forgot that he had basely surrendered Barton to destruction, or remembered it only with an emotion of terror; and now he hastened to save Falconer. He freed his compressed throat from the rich silk and golden scarf of Lord Hailes, and opened the collar of his velvet doublet to afford him air; he bathed his face and hands in the bright salt water of the firth that was rippling on the yellow sands close by, and in a few minutes the rescued man was able to raise himself upon his hands and look around him. Sybilla, still kneeling beside him, placed an arm caressingly around his livid neck, and while glancing thankfully and imploringly at her father, placed her trembling lips to the distorted brow of her lover, murmuring-- "Joy, joy--oh, David, dearest David, thou art still spared to me!" "Good morrow, fair sir," said Lord Drummond, grimly. "Now what am I to understand by all this?" "That your lordship--has--has saved me from a cruel death,--from a death the coward hands of Home and Hailes destined for me--for me who never wronged them," said Falconer, with difficulty, and at intervals. Sybilla wept aloud, and again wrung her pretty hands. "Hold, little one," said her father; "this noisy exhibition of love and grief but little beseems a noble lady. Though one of King James's new-fangled knights, do you forget that this man is but the son of a merchant skipper?" Though this was said in a low voice Falconer heard it, and it gave him new energy. Slowly and tremblingly he rose to his feet and said-- "My lord, with your daughter's love and your esteem I could achieve anything--Yea, I could ennoble myself,--yet both were alone sufficient to ennoble any man." Unsubdued by this compliment, the proud old noble made a gesture of impatience. "Another lover!" he muttered, stamping his spurred heel on the gravel walk; "was there ever a poor man so pestered by three gadabout daughters? This will be another fellow for us to kill, I suppose." "Ah, my lord, if you knew how I love her, and how to me her love is a richer and a greater treasure than our good king's favour." "The king's favour? Umph--a poor inheritance to-day, perhaps a poorer one to-morrow!" "How, my lord," said Falconer, anxiously; "what is it you mean?"