’It is a common soldier called Champdivers, who had himself escaped, and is in all probability involved in the common fate of his comrades.  In spite of the activity along all the Forth and the East Coast, nothing has yet been seen of the sloop which these desperadoes seized at Grangemouth, and it is now almost certain that they have found a watery grave.’

At the reading of this paragraph, my heart turned over.  In a moment I saw my castle in the air ruined; myself changed from a mere military fugitive into a hunted murderer, fleeing from the gallows; my love, which had a moment since appeared so near to me, blotted from the field of possibility.  Despair, which was my first sentiment, did not, however, endure for more than a moment.  I saw that my companions had indeed succeeded in their unlikely design; and that I was supposed to have accompanied and perished along with them by shipwreck—­a most probable ending to their enterprise.  If they thought me at the bottom of the North Sea, I need not fear much vigilance on the streets of Edinburgh.  Champdivers was wanted:  what was to connect him with St. Ives?  Major Chevenix would recognise me if he met me; that was beyond bargaining:  he had seen me so often, his interest had been kindled to so high a point, that I could hope to deceive him by no stratagem of disguise.  Well, even so; he would have a competition of testimony before him:  he knew Clausel, he knew me, and I was sure he would decide for honour.  At the same time the image of Flora shot up in my mind’s eye with such a radiancy as fairly overwhelmed all other considerations; the blood sprang to every corner of my body, and I vowed I would see and win her, if it cost my neck.

‘Very annoying, no doubt,’ said I, as I returned the paper to Mr. Romaine.

‘Is annoying your word for it?’ said he.

‘Exasperating, if you like,’ I admitted.

‘And true?’ he inquired.

‘Well, true in a sense,’ said I.  ’But perhaps I had better answer that question by putting you in possession of the facts?’

‘I think so, indeed,’ said he.

I narrated to him as much as seemed necessary of the quarrel, the duel, the death of Goguelat, and the character of Clausel.  He heard me through in a forbidding silence, nor did he at all betray the nature of his sentiments, except that, at the episode of the scissors, I could observe his mulberry face to turn three shades paler.

‘I suppose I may believe you?’ said he, when I had done.

‘Or else conclude this interview,’ said I.

’Can you not understand that we are here discussing matters of the gravest import?  Can you not understand that I feel myself weighed with a load of responsibility on your account—­that you should take this occasion to air your fire-eating manners against your own attorney?  There are serious hours in life, Mr. Anne,’ he said severely.  ’A capital charge, and that of a very brutal character