He seized Inglis by the collar, and, upbraiding him with his villany, ordered two of his comrades to bind him, assuring the others that their only chance of immunity consisted in their instant submission. He then ordered the men into their ranks, and told them to ground their arms. They hesitated for a moment, but finally obeyed, believing that Evandale had forces outside the gate.

Evandale then ordered the people of the castle to remove the arms from the soldiers, and not to restore them until the troops knew better how to use them. Addressing the mutineers, he exclaimed: "Begone! The enemy allows you a truce of three hours. Take the road to Edinburgh, and meet me at the house of Muir. Beware of committing violence on the route, and do not provoke resentment, or you will be punished. Let your punctuality atone for this day's work."

The disarmed soldiers left the castle silently, and took the road to the rendezvous, apprehending an attack by the insurgents, whom, in their own present defenceless condition, they dreaded to meet. Inglis was detained by Evandale in custody. Halliday was praised for his conduct and promoted in rank. Evandale then accosted the major, who stood as if in a dream.

He said: "My dear major, we must surrender this place. I have brought you no additional men or provisions.' “Is it so?" said Major Bellenden. "Yet I am pleased to see you, for it was reported that those Puritanical rascals had designs upon your life, and I summoned the troopers this morning to make an effort to get you out of limbo, when the dog Inglis, instead of obeying me, broke out into open mutiny. But what is to be done now ?"

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Lord Evandale replied: "I have myself no choice. am a prisoner released on parole, and bound for Edinburgh. You and the ladies must take the same route. By the favor of a friend, I have a safe-conduct and horses for you and your retinue. Make haste. Without provisions and men, you can no longer defend the castle, and

you have done enough for honor. More were needless as well as desperate. The English troops are moving in this direction, and the possession of Tillietudlem by the rebels. will be but temporary."

The major said: "I will accept your advice, as you think the event inevitable; for the mutiny of these scoundrels prevents our further defence. We will all of us prepare to leave, though with great reluctance." The ladies, alarmed at the mutiny, readily acquiesced in the major's decision, not without some deep sighs from Lady Margaret in thus abandoning her ancient house to the rebels. At dawn they departed, and shortly afterward at sunrise the scarlet and blue colors of the Scottish Covenant floated from the tower of Tillietudlem.

XXVIII. THE cavalcade, after a brief halt at the hamlet of Bothwell for refreshments, pressed forward toward Edinburgh. It would have been natural on this journey that Lord Evandale should have been frequently at the side of Edith Bellenden. Yet after addressing and providing for her accommodation, he rode in the van of the party with Major Bellenden, who had placed his lovely niece in the charge of an insurgent cavalier, whose features and figure were concealed by his military cloak and large flapped hat.

They rode side by side for several miles in silence, when the stranger addressed Miss Bellenden in a tremulous and suppressed voice. He said: "You probably have friends. even among the insurgents. Is there anything they can do to testify to their respect for you or regret for your suffering?" Edith replied: "Let them learn to respect the laws and to spare innocent blood. Let them return to their allegiance, and I can forgive them all that I have suffered."

The cavalier said: "You think it impossible then for any one to serve in our ranks having the welfare of his country sincerely at heart?" She replied: "It might be imprudent while so absolutely in your power to answer that question.

I have been taught candor from my birth, and if I speak at all I must utter my real sentiments. God alone can judge the heart-men must estimate intentions by actions. Treason, murder, rapine and oppression are actions which necessarily sully the characters of all the abettors, by whatever specious terms they may be gilded over."

The insurgent cavalier replied: "The guilt of civil war, the miseries incident to it, lie at the door of those who provoke it by illegal oppression rather than at such as are driven to arms in order to assert their natural rights." "That is assuming the question," said Edith, "which ought to be proved. Each party contends that they are right in principle, and therefore the guilt lies with those who first draw the sword."

"Alas!" exclaimed he, "we have suffered beyond endurance; but I perceive it is useless to plead before you a cause which you have already prejudiced, perhaps as much from your dislike of the persons as of the principles of those engaged in it." "I have stated with freedom, sir, my opinion of the principles of the insurgents; of their persons I know nothing, excepting in one solitary instance." "And that influence, Miss Bellenden, has affected your opinion of the entire body?"

"Far from it," replied Edith. "I once thought most highly of him, as a man of talent, high faith, pure morality, and warm affections. Can I approve a rebellion which made such a man, formed to defend and enlighten his country, the companion of gloomy and ignorant fanatics or canting hypocrites, the leader of brutal clowns and highway murderers? Should you meet such an one in your camp tell him that Edith Bellenden has wept more over his fallen character and blighted prospects than over the distresses of her own house; and that she has better endured famine than the pang of heart occasioned by his complicity in the infliction of those calamities."

As she spoke, her faded cheek attested the reality of her sufferings, though it temporarily glowed with her animated

language. The horseman was not insensible to the appeal; and as if a pang shot through his brain, he pulled the shadowing hat still deeper over his forehead. The movement and the feeling it excited did not escape Edith's attention, nor did she remark them without emotion.

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She added: "Should you meet the person to whom I have referred, tell him from an early friend that sincere repentance is next to innocence, and he may yet atone in some measure for the ill he has done." And in what manner?" asked the cavalier, with choked voice. "By aiding to restore the blessings of peace to his distracted countrymen, and to induce the rebels to lay down their arms. By so doing he may deserve the thanks of this age and an honored remembrance in the next."

"I trust Miss Bellenden would not wish that the interests of the people should be unreservedly sacrificed to the crown?" She replied: "I am but a girl, and I scarce can think upon the subject without presumption. I desire a peace which gives rest to all parties and secures the subjects from military rapine, which I detest as much as I do the means now adopted to resist it."

"Miss Bellenden," said Henry Morton, raising his hat and speaking in a natural tone, "the person who has lost so highly valued a position in your esteem has yet too much spirit to plead his cause as a criminal, and would remain silent were it not that he can appeal to Lord Evandale to prove that his earnest wishes and active exertions are now directed to the accomplishment of such a peace as the most loyal cannot censure.

He bowed with dignity, and she silently and confusedly returned his salute. Her previous language had intimated that she had recognized him in his disguise. Morton then rode forward to the head of the party.

On seeing him, Major Bellenden exclaimed: "Henry Morton!" "I am he," was the reply, "and I regret that my motives have been misconstrued by you and your family. I commit to Lord Evandale here the charge of unde

ceiving my friend as to my conduct and the purity of my motives. Farewell, Major Bellenden! All happiness attend you and your friends. May we meet in happier and better times."

"Believe me, Mr. Morton," said Lord Evandale, "your confidence is not misplaced. I will endeavor to repay you the great services you have rendered me by striving to place your character on a proper footing with Major Bellenden, whose esteem you value."

"I expected no less from your generosity, my lord." He then called off his followers and rode rapidly away, attended by Cuddie Headrigg. This youth had re-established himself in the good graces of his mistress, Jenny Dennison, and he kissed her ardently as he parted from her.

Lady Margaret questioned the damsel in relation to the departing cavalier, and asked her if he was not the former winner of the popinjay. Upon her attempting to evade the question, the major told the dame that the cavalier was Henry Morton. She replied: "We have had a blessed escape then from this dangerous fanatic."

"You are deceived, madame," said Lord Evandale. "Mr. Morton merits no such title from us. That I am now alive, and that you are now on your safe retreat to your friends, instead of being the prisoners of a fanatical murderer, is solely owing to the prompt and active interposition of that young gentleman.”

He then gave a narrative of the events, dwelling upon Morton's merits, and the risk he had incurred in rendering these services, as if he had been a brother instead of a rival. He added: "I would be sadly ungrateful were I silent as to the merits of a man who has twice saved my life.

The major said: "I would willingly think well of Henry Morton, for he has behaved handsomely toward all of us, yet I deprecate his present course." Evandale replied: "You must remember that he has been partly forced into his present position by necessity, and I must add that I re