“How did you bring the evil upon him?” I asked, in astonishment.  “It was not your fault that he brought Mary Stuart to—­”

“No, no,” she answered; “but I told the queen she was at Rutland.”

“You told the queen?” I exclaimed, unwilling to believe my ears.  “You told—­How—­why—­why did you tell her?”

“I do not know why I told her,” she replied.  “I was mad with—­with jealousy.  You warned me against it, but I did not heed you.  Jennie Faxton told me that she saw John and—­but all that does not matter now.  I will tell you hereafter if I live.  What we must now do is to save him—­to save him if we can.  Try to devise some plan.  Think—­think, Malcolm.”

My first thought was to ride to Rutland Castle and give the alarm.  Sir George would lead the yeomen thither by the shortest route—­the road by way of Rowsley.  There was another route leading up the Lathkil through the dale, and thence by a road turning southward to Rutland.  That road was longer by a league than the one Sir George would take, but I could put my horse to his greatest speed, and I might be able to reach the castle in time to enable John and Mary to escape.  I considered the question a moment.  My own life certainly would pay the forfeit in case of failure; but my love for John and, I confess it with shame, the memory of my old tenderness for Mary impelled me to take the risk.  I explained the plan upon which I was thinking, and told them of my determination.  When I did so, Madge grasped me by the arm to detain me, and Dorothy fell upon her knees and kissed my hand.

I said, “I must start at once; for, ride as I may, I fear the yeomen will reach Rutland gates before I can get there.”

“But If the guards should be at the gates when you arrive, or if you should be missed by Cecil, you, a Scottish refugee and a friend of Queen Mary, would be suspected of treason, and you would lose your life,” said Madge, who was filled with alarm for my sake.

“That is true,” I replied; “but I can think of no other way whereby John can possibly be saved.”

Dorothy stood for a moment in deep thought, and said:—­

“I will ride to Rutland by way of Lathkil Dale—­I will ride in place of you, Malcolm.  It is my duty and my privilege to do this if I can.”

I saw the truth of her words, and felt that since Dorothy had wrought the evil, it was clearly her duty to remedy it if she could.  If she should fail, no evil consequences would fall upon her.  If I should fail, it would cost me my life; and while I desired to save John, still I wished to save myself.  Though my conduct may not have been chivalric, still I was willing that Dorothy should go in my place, and I told her so.  I offered to ride with her as far as a certain cross-road a league distant from Rutland Castle.  There I would leave her, and go across the country to meet the yeomen on the road they had taken.  I could join them before they reached Rutland, and my absence during the earlier portion of the march would not be remarked, or if noticed it could easily be explained.