The doomed one was accordingly ushered into his presence. When the officer beheld him approach, he started up. "Can it be possible?" he exclaimed--"Mr Stuart?" and gasped as he spoke. The prisoner also started at hearing his true name, and raising his head said, "It is possible! Alexander Cockburn, I am your prisoner--_It is your turn now_!" The officer, who was chief in command o' the party, was none other than Alexander Cockburn, the young Covenanter, and the doomed spy was Mr Robert Stuart, the father o' Flora. "Sir," said Alexander, "my turn is indeed come--it is come to prove to you, that as generous feelings may kindle in the eyes that are barely shaded by the blue bonnet o' a Covenanter as in those that look proudly from beneath the gay beaver o' a cavalier. There was a time when I stood as you were like to have done now, wi' but a few ticks o' a watch between me and eternity--the watch that ye refused to take from my hand; and when but the expression o' a wish from your lips was all that was required to obtain my pardon, my freedom--and that wish ye wouldna express." "I ken it, lad! I ken it!" cried the prisoner; "but I am in your power now; take your revenge--do by me as I would have done by you!" "No, Mr Stuart!" replied the other, "vengeance belongs not to me. But I rejoice that, in this instance, for the sake o' one whose name I dare not mention here, I have the power o' pardoning. Soldiers, unloose his hands--he is free--he is forgiven." The soldiers did as they were commanded. "Alexander Cockburn!" exclaimed the late captive, "will you make me appear more contemptible than a worm in my own eyes? A minute has not passed since you reminded me how I hated you, and how deadly I showed my hatred. The remembrance o' the occasion on which I showed that feeling has been like a biting adder in my breast ever since; and now to receive life at your hands would be to make my future existence a mixture o' wormwood and gall." "Say not so," said Alexander, stepping forward, and taking his hand. "I would speak with you in private." At that moment a voice was heard without, crying, "Let me pass!--pray, let me pass!--let a daughter intercede with your officer for the life of a father!" "Sir, sir!" exclaimed Alexander, "it is _her_!--it is _her_! My Flora's voice!" And he rushed to the door to meet her. "Flora!--my own Flora!" he continued; "your father is free--he is forgiven--he shall live! What! do you not know me? I am your own Alexander." "Alexander!" she cried, springing forward to meet him, and, yielding to the natural feelings o' the man, her father ran towards them, and embraced them both.