“In that case, I should advise her to make ready at once,” I replied.

“And if she does not want your advice?” returned Frances.

“In that case, I should limit my advice to a mere recommendation that she wash the ink stains from her lips, eyes, and cheeks.  Master Hamilton has pretty well covered the ground with overgrown beauty patches.”

Betty laughed softly, and fat old Lilly chuckled as he resumed his place at his desk.

There being no mirror in the room, Frances put her hand to her face and found traces of printers’ ink on her fingers, whereupon she blushed and laughed and was so beautiful that we all laughed from the sheer delight of looking at her.

“Again Baron Ned is right, Frances,” said Hamilton, offering to lead her toward the St. George door.  “You must not remain.  We may be surprised by the sheriffs at any moment, in which case you would suffer in reputation and I might not be able to escape.”

We passed into the tapestried room, and after Hamilton had closed the St. George door, we paused for a moment before leaving.  Presently I started to go, but Frances held back.  I had reached the outer door and was waiting, somewhat impatiently, when Betty came up to me, opened the door, drew me outside, closed the door, and whispered:—­

“Don’t you understand?  They would be alone a moment.”

“Do you think so, Betty?” I asked, laughing at her earnestness.

“I know it,” she returned emphatically.

When George and Frances were alone, she said:  “I shall never again give you cause to say that I am cruel, for I shall never again see you.”  She tried to keep back the tears, but failed, and after a moment, continued, unheeding them, “If you could but know the joy this meeting has given me and the grief of parting, you would understand my sorrow for having wronged you, and would know the deep pain of farewell.”

“I have not spoken of my love for you,” said George, “because it is so plain that words are not needed to express it, and because you have known it far better than I could tell it ever since the sweet days on the Bourne Path.  To speak it would seem to mar it by half expression.  But it will be yours always, and I shall take it to my grave.  It has been my redemption, and, as long as I live, no other woman shall enter my heart.”

He fell to his knee, catching her hands and kissing them passionately, but she raised him, saying:—­

“If it is your will, I shall refuse the Duke of Tyrconnel, regardless of my duty to my father and my house, and shall wait for you, happy even in the waiting, or share your fortune, be it good or ill, from this hour.  Which shall it be?”

“Soon I shall be an exile, or climbing the steps of a scaffold on Tyburn Hill.  This must be our farewell.  Do not remain a moment longer.  May God help me and bring happiness to you!” said Hamilton, answering her question all too plainly.