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So Barnabas took Ronald Barrymaine's letter, and opening it, saw that it was indeed scrawled in characters so shaky as to be sometimes almost illegible; but, holding it in the full light of the moon, he read as follows: DEAREST OF SISTERS, I was unable to keep the appointment I begged for in my last, owing to a sudden indisposition, and, though better now, I am still ailing.
Fortunately I want nothing for myself, and it is no use being a victorious general if one cannot utilize it in some way; so I am quite glad to have something to ask the king." The next day Ronald presented himself at the hotel of Marshal Saxe and rode by the side of his carriage out to Versailles.
"I tell you, Malcolm, man," he said one day to his old comrade, after Ronald had been for upwards of two years his pupil, "if I had known, when you first asked me to teach the lad to handle a sword, how much of my time he was going to occupy, I should have laughed in your face, for ten times the sum you agreed to pay me would not have been enough; but, having begun it for your sake, I have gone on for the lad's.
With kind and graceful tact the countess gave Dora time to recover herself; but that was the last time she ever invited the young artist and his wife alone. Countess Rosali had a great dread of all domestic scenes. Neither Dora nor Ronald ever alluded again to this little incident; it had one bad effect it frightened the timid young wife, and made her dread going into society.
When the little ones reached their first birthday, Valentine, with her usual kind thought, purchased a grand assortment of toys, and drove over quite unexpectedly to the villa. It was not a very cheerful scene which met her gaze. Ronald was busily engaged in writing. Dora, flushed and worn, was vainly trying to stop the cries of one child, while the other pulled at her dress.
A supply of scaling ladders had been prepared and brought on shore, and Lord Claymore had taken good care that they should be long enough. The seamen carried them, and rushed on, following Ronald and his father. Rolf kept up with the activity of a younger man. On they went; they soon distanced the Spaniards. The outworks had been secured. Through them they dashed.
"One's appetite is not as good here as it was when we were tramping the hills, Ronald; but one looks forward to one's meals; they form a break in the time." So saying, he took up one of the lumps of bread and began to ear, securing at the same time the pellet of paper. "We can't be too careful," he said in a whisper. "It is quite possible that they may be able to overhear us."
"If you know everything else about it, you know where Farnaby is. I'll be the death of him, if I swing for it on the gallows! Where is he? Where is he?" A shriek from the upper room silenced him before Mrs. Ronald could speak again. His daughter had heard him; his daughter had recognized his voice.
Rose was there dressed beautifully, and with flowers in her hair, and all curiosity to hear who their visitor was. There was a heightened colour in Kate's face and an altered expression in her eyes that puzzled Grace. "He is Sir Ronald Keith," she said, in reply to Rose. "I have known him for years." "Sir Ronald; knight or baronet?" "Baronet, of course," Kate said, coldly; "and Scotch.
"We'd be together, maybe, come our weddin'-day. The fourth o' July. We never been parted oncet, on that day, all the fifteen years we been married," she mused, "but " "Well?" "But, come winter, an' Mis' Sherman opens the house again, an' wants Miss Claire back, who's goin' to look out for her?" "Why a as to that " said Mr. Ronald, so vaguely it sounded almost supercilious to Claire.
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