They had not long left, when Cornet Grahame, a kinsman of Claverhouse, entered with the news that the Archbishop of St. Andrews had been murdered by a body of the rebel Whigs.

He read their descriptions, and it was clear that the stern stranger who had just left with Henry Morton, was Balfour of Burley, the actual commander of the band of assassins, though Morton himself knew nothing of Burley’s terrible deed.

“Horse, horse, and pursue, my lads!” exclaimed Cornet Grahame.  “The murdering dog’s head is worth its weight in gold.”

II.—­Henry Morton’s Escape

The dragoons soon arrived at Milnwood, and carried off Henry Morton prisoner for having given a night’s shelter to Balfour of Burley, an old military comrade of his father’s.  Morton acknowledged he had done this, but refused to give any other information.  Hitherto he had meddled with no party in the state.  They decided to bring him before Colonel Grahame of Claverhouse, who was expected next day at the Castle of Tillietudlem, the residence of Lady Margaret Bellenden.

Although Henry Morton had prevailed upon the sergeant to let him be muffled up in one of the soldier’s cloaks, Miss Edith Bellenden found it impossible to withdraw her eyes from him, and her waiting maid soon discovered his identity, and found means for the lovers (for such they were) to meet in secret in the room where the prisoner was confined.

“You are lost, you are lost, if you are to plead your cause with Claverhouse!” sighed Edith.  “The primate was his intimate friend and early patron.  ‘No excuse, no subterfuge,’ he wrote to my grandmother, ’shall save either those connected with the deed, or such as have given them countenance and shelter.’”

They were interrupted by the guard, and Morton, assuming a firmness he was far from feeling, whispered, “Farewell, Edith; leave me to my fate; it cannot be beyond endurance, since you are interested in it.  Good night, good night!  Do not remain here till you are discovered.”

“Everyone has his taste, to be sure,” said the sentinel; “but, d——­ me if I would vex so sweet a girl for all the Whigs that ever swore a covenant!”

After breakfast next day, Major Bellenden, Edith’s grand-uncle, to whom she had written, approached Claverhouse, to plead for the life of the son of his old friend, but she heard the reply.

“It cannot be, Major Bellenden; lenity in his case is altogether beyond the bounds of my commission.  And here comes Evandale with news, as I think.  What tidings do you bring us, Evandale?” addressing the young lord, who now entered in complete uniform but with dress disordered, and boots bespattered.

“Unpleasant news, sir,” was the reply.  “A large body of Whigs are in arms among the hills, and have broken out into actual rebellion.”

Claverhouse immediately bid them sound to horse, saying, “There are rogues enough in the country to make the rebels five times their strength, if they are not checked at once.”