"So be it!" And Andrew thought he heard the intrepid young man laugh shame-facedly at yielding to his terrified importunity, "I promise!" Then they pressed hands and parted in the gloom. CHAPTER V. IN WHICH CAPTAIN JERMAIN'S MEMORY IS USEFUL. Andrew entered the dining-parlor timorously. He made his way thither by the little passage into which opened the outer kitchen containing the Highland prisoner and his guards. It was shut. The servants, who questioned him eagerly as to Lord Armitage's security, told him that to knock at the door was only to have one of the guards come to it and slam it in his face. They would allow nobody within but themselves. His father sat at the head of the long table, only half of which was laid. The three cavaliers had begun hungrily on meats, bread, and potables. "Come and sit down here, my lad," called out Captain Jermain kindly, well-disposed to pay some attention to his host's attractive son; "you are a fine, tall fellow. I dare say you will be carrying the king's colors yourself one of these days--eh?" Andrew seated himself between the captain and Gilbert. A glance passed between father and boy as he did so. Boyd read in it a quick reassurance upon the state of mind of Lord Armitage above-stairs. A man who better liked plain-dealing than Gilbert Boyd of Windlestrae it would be hard to light upon. To seem to be what he was not stifled him. Nevertheless, his feeling of sacred duty to the fugitive, to whom he had sworn protection by every lawful means, induced him to waive scruples and to preside at this supper with a remarkable simulation of calmness and of desire to make the three soldiers at ease in the Manor. As far as possible, he diverted the talk from politics, where he must and would betray himself rather than lie! "I have been rumored a Whig so long to no good," he thought, resignedly, "that I may as well let the error keep alive on such a night as this, when it can save a life. Humph." Presently he said aloud: "Help yourselves freely, gentlemen. I am sorry, by the way, that the Manor can offer you no better liquors than our own ales and usquebaugh." "Oh, no apologies, no apologies," replied Captain Jermain. "This is the very lap of luxury for us. I trust that when these troubled times end--and his ragged Princeship with his bare-legged support are hanged--many a hospitable Whig like yourself will call upon us in London, or anywhere else, and be repaid for your trouble in kind. To your health, Mr. Boyd!" "Be entirely at ease, sir, as to trouble," Gilbert answered, raising his ale-glass; "there is always room and to spare in this old nook." Andrew nerved himself in the instant of silence ensuing: "Was the prisoner that you captured--was he--a person of consequence, sir?" he faltered.