Carefully closing the heavy door, Kennedy held out his hands.  ’Fair cousin,’ he said, ‘this is bravely done of you.’

‘Will it save my sister?’ asked Malcolm, anxiously.

‘It should,’ said his kinsman; ’but how can it be?  Whatever is done, must be ere Walter Stewart returns.’

’Tell me all!  I know nothing—­save that she was cruelly lured from St. Abbs.’

‘I know little more,’ said Kennedy.  ’It was on a false report of your death, and Walter had well-nigh obtained a forcible marriage; when her resistance and cries to Heaven daunted the monk who was to have performed the rite, so that he, in a sort, became her protector.  When she was brought here, Walter swore he would bend her to his will; shut her up in the old keep, and kept her there, scantily fed, and a close prisoner, while he went forth on one of his forays.  The Regent coming here meantime, found the poor maiden in her captivity, and freed her so far that she lives, to all appearance, as becomes his kinswoman; but the Duchess is cruelly strict with her, being resolved, as she says, to take down her pride.’

‘They must know that I live,’ said Malcolm.

’They do; but Walter is none the less resolved not to be balked.  Things came to a wild pass a few weeks syne.  The Regent had never dared tell him how far matters had gone for bringing back the King, when one day Walter came in, clad for hawking; and, in his rudest manner, demanded the falcon that was wont to sit on his father’s wrist, and that had never been taken out by any other.  The Regent refused to part with the bird, as he had oft done before; whereupon his son, in his fury, snatched her from his wrist, and wrung her head off before all our eyes; then turning fiercely on your poor sister, told her that “yon gled should be a token to her, of how they fared who withheld themselves from him.”  Then rose the Duke, trembling within rage; “Ay, Wat,” said he, “ye hae been owermuch for me.  We will soon have ane at home that will ken how to guide ye.”  Walter looked at him insolently, and muttered, “I’ve heard of this before!  They that wad have a master, may live under a master—­but I’m not ane of them;” and then, turning upon Lady Lilias, he pointed to the dead hawk, and told her that, unless she yielded to him with a good grace, that bird showed her what she might expect, long ere the King or her brother were across the border.’

‘And where is he now?’

’In Fife, striving to get a force together to hinder the King’s return.  He’ll not do that; men are too weary of misrule to join him against King James; but he is like, any day, to come back with reivers enough to terrify his father, and get your sister into his hands—­indeed, his mother is ready to give her up to him whenever he asks.  He has sworn to have her now, were it merely to vex the King and you, and show that he is to be daunted neither by man, heaven, nor hell.’

‘And he may come?’