"Boldly answered, fair one," he said; "of a truth thou art a brave one.

I grieve such an office should descend upon me as the detention of so stout a heart; yet even so.

In King Edward's name, you are my prisoner." "Your prisoner, and wherefore ?" demanded the countess believing that calmness would be a better protection than any symptoms of fear.

"You are mistaken, good friend, I knew not Edward warred with women." "Prove my mistake, fair mistress, and I will crave your pardon," replied the man, "We have certain intelligence that a party of Scottish rebels, their quondam king perhaps among them, are hidden in these mountains.
Give us trusty news of their movements, show us their track, and Edward will hold you in high favor, and grant liberty and rich presents in excuse of his servant's too great vigilance.

Hearest thou, what is the track of these rebels--what their movements ?" "Thou art a sorry fool, Murdock," retorted another voice, ere the countess could reply, and hastily glancing around, she beheld herself surrounded by armed men; "a sorry fool, an thou wastest the precious darkness thus.