ay, a hundred times; had she seen the swords of the murderers at his breast they would surely have only reached it through her own-but here neither love, devotion, nor courage could bear fruit unless supported by that ready presence of mind which for once had forsaken her in time of need. In her fond daydreams she had again and again rehearsed some such conjuncture, in which she, the humble, perhaps forgotten, friend, was to gnaw the meshes which entangled the noble king of the forest-now he lay enveloped in them, betrayed as it seemed by one who owed him fidelity, and she knew not on which side to turn to countermine this infernal plot.

All at once, as if a new flood of strength had revived her, she sprang forward from her hidingplace where she had leant-faint and trembling-against the side of the window, as she first rose.

"He is saved! I have it! oh, fool that I was to forget!"

She had indeed utterly forgotten a few words dropped by the lad Jock respecting the conclave which he described as being held at the King's Head

and this precious grain of clear certainty, winnowed from the heap of rubbish which had chafed her, became instantly the germ of a scheme which comprehended the plan of the assassins and fixed her own.-Lord Dundee was attending a meeting of Jacobite gentlemen at the tavern; intelligence of this had been transmitted to Heatherfield and his accomplices, either by the viscount's servant, or some person in whom confidence had been reposed; his movements would be dogged,

and during his return home, which would most likely take place at a very late hour, the assassins would find their long-sought opportunity of revenge.

She almost cried aloud as the frightful scene which this last thought evoked painted itself in the darkness -the bloody, mangled, disfigured corpse of him whom she had last seen in his pride of strength and manhood, trodden down in the mire of the streets, outraged by the ruffian hands of Drummond. But she stifled the weak, womanly pang and flew to the door, to make her way out and put into effect the first step of the plan which had sprung ready and complete from her brain. Oh, misfortune! the lock refused to move; and all her most violent efforts seemed only to fix it more obdurately in one position. In a perfect paroxysm of despair she put forth all her strength-it was very little; the door continued as firmly closed as if it had formed part of a granite rock.

She dropped on her knees and threw up her arms like one supplicating for life.

"Oh, my God! have mercy upon me!" was all she could say.

Then with redoubled energy she applied herself to her task, until at last by one fortunate, unintentional movement the crooked ill-fitting key slipped into its proper place, one grating turn, another final struggle, and Alice was free.

Her slender fingers were dreadfully bruised and strained, but of that she thought not nor cared to think: she felt her way along the dark passage, drew the heavy bolts of the immense street door, and, leav

ing it open behind her, stood, wild with eager haste, in the fresh night air, which blew with delicious coolness on her burning cheeks and injured hands. On she sped, afraid to run from a morbid dread of attracting suspicion, but darting over the rough, treacherous pavement, traversing street, wynd, and archway with an unerring certainty which she probably could not have exercised, even in broad day, without some such impulse to guide her. She reached the head of the close—in a few minutes more the goal would be attained, the letter which was to be the bearer of her saving message written, and Alice on her way again. One worthy gossip, a lodger in the same house, was lounging with crossed arms and slipshod feet over the wooden outside stair-but she was far too much occupied with the edifying dissection of a neighbour's most private concerns, which she was carrying on with a fellow cummer at the third-story window opposite, to notice Alice's figure as she glided in at the unclosed door (a sure sign of Janet's absence). The girl flew up the interminable staircase-a thin red line of light was glowing along the narrow corridor into which her room opened.

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Strange!" she thought, and, pushing the door which she had left fast shut, saw, with what a sinking of the heart no words can describe, her brother Norman !

CHAPTER XXXIX.

THE LETTER.

Is this a brother? why then let me be

Divorced from kindred, blood, and brotherhood-
Nature has lied in him.

He was sitting by the fireside, on which three or four logs of wood had been thrown, reading by the light which they afforded, and with the expression of obstinacy which characterized every line in his person, so intensified by some peculiarity of look and posture, that Alice could not doubt that for some purpose of his own he was there to see her. And when he turned quickly round with his usual abrupt address, and eyed her narrowly with his usual lynx-eyed keenness, she could not deceive herself as to the fact, that under that glance she was, to all intents and purposes of her night's mission, as truly helpless as if she had still been immured in the grim dungeon-like place where she had gained the fearful secret which burdened her spirit, and which she shrunk from the idea that her brother's insatiable suspicion should descry in the sudden pallor which overspread her face, as the blood retreated to her heart and the gripe of despair seized her for the second time. Oh, to fail thus at the eleventh hour, when she thought all obstacles past!-to know that, while he watched her, the first sympton of displeasure, the first

attempt at secrecy, would be ruin to whatever hope might still be left !—to feel that bold advance or timely retreat were both equally impossible !

"Whence come you, Alice, at this late hour?" he asked turning his head towards his sister, who did not seem able to move or speak, and could not answer. "Where have you been?" he repeated very decidedly.

"I know not-that is to say-to Libberton-and elsewhere," she murmured unconnectedly; and, as he still kept his eyes bent on her, she summoned all her self-possession and added bitterly,

"I hadna thought to see you here; it is seldom Norman Scott can find his way to the house where his motherless sister dwells."

"I am here now, nevertheless, as you perceive," he replied drily, and therewith resumed his studies-of whatever description they might be-with an air of deliberation which left no loophole of self-deception as to his intention of staying as long as ever he found it convenient.

Driven far beyond her natural and acquired awe of Norman's tyranny, by the remembrance of Lord Dundee's frightful peril, and the certainty that no creature but herself possessed the power of saving him, Alice was on the point of hurrying from the room— when Norman stood up, exclaiming angrily,

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Again, Alice? If you have any creditable necessity which can take you forth at such a time of night, I will accompany you myself; but I fear the reverse."

She obeyed without the slightest remonstrance, and