A few weeks later a pause in the hostilities enabled Morton, anxious for the fate of Tillietudlem, to return to Burley’s camp, where he learnt that Evandale had been taken prisoner, and was to be hanged at daybreak unless the castle surrendered.

Burley sullenly yielded his prisoner into Morton’s hands, and Evandale, released on parole by the man whose life he had previously saved, undertook to set out for Edinburgh, with a list of the grievances of the insurgents.  A mutiny within the castle drove Major Bellenden to evacuate Tillietudlem; the ladies acquiesced in the decision, and when the scarlet and blue colours of the Scottish Covenant floated from the keep of Tillietudlem, the cavalcade led by the major was on the road towards Edinburgh.

Lord Evandale’s good word saved Morton a second time when Claverhouse routed the Presbyterian army at Bothwell Bridge.  Morton was taken prisoner, but his life was spared, and at Leith he was put on board a vessel bound for Rotterdam with letters of recommendation to the Prince of Orange.

IV.—­Henry Morton Returns in Time

By the prudent tolerance of King William Scotland narrowly escaped the horrors of a protracted civil war.  The triumphant Whigs re-established Presbytery as the national religion, and only the extreme sect of Cameronians on the one side, and the Highlanders, who were for the deposed Stuart king, on the other, disturbed the peace of the land.  Balfour of Burley refused to sheathe his sword, and Evandale followed his old commander Claverhouse (now Viscount Dundee) in joining the rebel Jacobites.  Major Bellenden was dead.

No news had ever come of Henry Morton, and it was believed with good reason he was lost when the vessel in which he sailed went down with crew and passengers.  But Morton was already back in Scotland, in the service of King William.

In the belief of her Morton’s death, Edith Bellenden had become betrothed to Lord Evandale, though she postponed marriage, and her prayers went out to him that he would refrain from joining Claverhouse, when he came to bid her farewell.

“Oh, my lord, remain!” said Edith.  “Do not rush on death and ruin!  Remain to be our prop and stay, and hope everything from time.”

“It is too late, Edith,” answered Lord Evandale.  “I know you cannot love me, that your heart is dead or absent.  But were it otherwise, the die is now cast.”

As he spoke thus an old servant rushed in to say a party of horse headed by one Basil Olifant, a rascal who was anxious to take Evandale for the sake of reward, had beset the outlets of the house.

“Oh, hide yourself, my lord!” cried Edith, in an agony of terror.

“I will not, by Heaven!” answered Lord Evandale.  “What right has the villain to assail me or stop my passage?  I will make my way, were he backed by a regiment.  And now, farewell, Edith!”

He clasped her in his arms, and kissed her tenderly; then rushed out and mounted his horse, and with his servants rode composedly down the avenue.