CHAPTER XLVII.

CLEARING.

"I hear the gentle rush of wings

I see the light of wandering stars,

And many a budding hope upsprings

Glittering with gowden dots and bars."—W. B. Sangster.

JEANIE and the others were waiting for Falcon; and as soon as he rejoined them he asked Armstrong to get him a light. The constable procured a lantern, and taking it in his hand Falcon entered Donald's cell, leaving the door partly open, so that the others might easily hear all that was said.

The man was standing leaning against the wall, his head sunk sulkily on his breast. When the rays of the lantern fell on him he roused himself, facing his visitor fiercely.

"What am I kept here for?" he growled, "I'd like to ken that. I haena done onything wrang, and by·

He checked himself, and the expression of savage wrath on his visage changed to one of terror. Falcon had raised the lantern so that the light fell on his own face, and it was the recognition of it which caused the prisoner's alarm.

"You ken me, I think, Donald," said Falcon coolly. The man's lips moved, but he did not speak.

"We have not been the best of friends formerly," Falcon proceeded; "but we'll maybe make amends for that yet. I have come to help you out o' your scrape, if you're sensible enough to take help."

Donald began to recover himself; the voice was perfectly human, and dispelled the fright which the speaker's sudden appearance had created.

"I hae done naething to bring me into the scrape," he said surlily, “and I'd like to ken by whase orders I'm here.” "By mine, then, if it does ye ony good to ken."

"Yours!—then ye're a doomd scoundrel, and as sune's I get the use o' my hands, I'll gie ye something to mind for't,” he growled.

“Toots, man, keep your temper, or it'll be a long while before ye get the free use o' your hands again."

"What hae I done?

"Maybe you did not think there was much harm in it at the time, but a' your trouble is just brought on ye by the lee ye told Cairnieford's wife when ye went for her with the gig on Tuesday last."

Donald turned his face sulkily away from the light.

“I ken naething about what ye say.”

66

"O, aye, do ye."

"If I did it, it's nane o' your business."

"I'm thinking ye'll find it mair my business than ye would like to own. Just come out here."

Falcon pushed open the door and stepped out of the cell. Donald saw that there were others outside, and made no movement to follow, although he had been eager enough a moment before to get a breath of fresh air.

At a sign from Falcon, Geordie Armstrong strode into the cell, gripped the prisoner by the collar, and dragged him out. "That's the man," cried Jeanie, recognizing him instantly, and wondering that she had failed to do so when she had first seen him on board the Ailsa.

But he had been far from her thoughts at that time, and it was only when sitting in the lawyer's office trying to remember any peculiarity of the messenger whose falsehood had brought about so much misery, that certain movements of his body, the gruff tones of his voice, and his figure, had gradually become associated in her mind with those of Carrach's accomplice on board the schooner. It was like the discovery of an object which the eye has registered, whilst the mind has been occupied with other things. Absent, she could not have described any of his features; but, her suspicion once directed towards him, she identified him without hesitation.

The man hung his head sulkily and abashed. The bold assumption of knowledge with which Falcon had addressed him, and Jeanie's recognition, convinced him that further denial was useless.

"I did nae mair nor I was bidden," he muttered uneasily; "and if harm cam' o't it wasna iny fault."

"You had better make a clean breast of it," advised Falcon coolly. "Holding your tongue will not help Carrach, and will do yoursel' some harm. Speak out and you'll save your own

Jeanie was about to speak, but Falcon checked her with a motion of his hand.

"Where were you on Monday night?" he asked.

"I was at Clashgirn wi' the skipper, wha had got word frae the Laird to come late and tap at his window without letting onybody see us."

"Did you stay there all night ?"

"Aye; I slept on the floor and the skipper on a big chair. We gaed awa' before the folk were asteer in the morning, and walked up by to Askaig, but we didna gang to the house."

แ "Did you hear any conversation between the Laird and Carrach ? "

"Na; they gaed ben the house and talked in another room."

"Who instructed you as to what you were to do? "The Laird himsel' in the morning before we left the house. He tauld me what to say, and was particular to get me to say it exack as he direckit. He said there was nae harm in't; it was just a bit fun he wanted to hae wi' ye and Cairnieford. He gied the skipper and me baith plaids to put on, no to let us be ken'd; and he gied me a bonnet besides."

"Go on; tell everything. What did ye do when ye got as far as Askaig?"

"We hung about till afternoon, when, as had been arranged, a chiel' brocht the gig frac Clashgirn to the ford. The skipper speired at him if he had been sent to seek Falcon, and he said aye. Syne the skipper took the reins frae him and told him he might go home. As soon as the chiel' was weel awa', I took the gig doon to Cairnieford, and delivered my errand as ye ken. I took Mistress Gray to Askaig and left her in the house, while I gaed awa', pretending to seek somebody to let us ken what had come o' her guidman.

"That was what I was told to do if there was naebody in the house. If Rab Keith had been there I was to send him awa' on a gowk's errand to seek the Laird. If ye had been there I was just to leave Mistress Gray wi' ye and drive awa' as fast as I could. I drove to the end of the loaning, where the skipper was waiting for me. He bade me drive on to Ayr and bide there for him; as play he couldna gang wi' me. he let on that he just wanted to see the upshot o' the fun, he was anxious to see ye safe awa' frae the place. I did as I was bidden and drove on to Ayr, and that's a' I ken o' the matter, barring that when the skipper joined me, he told me that ye had fa'en ower the Brownie's Bite, and was drooned. So help me, Heaven, I hae spoken the truth to the best o' my belief." "He told you that I was drooned? When did he join ye?" "On Thursday night. I mind the time quite weel, because he explained to me that we were to clear the Ailsa next day, and to come up by to the Links for instructions frae the Laird."

he wanted to see the end o' the I ken'd weel eneuch that though

Further questioning only served to confirm this statement, and obtain no other information except that the skipper's intention to lie off the port of Ayr to complete the crew had been changed in consequence of having Mistress Gray on board, as he was afraid that by any accident she might escape him, or find means of communicating with the shore.

Falcon told him that if what he had said proved to be true, he had nothing to fear for his safety. Donald asseverated its truthfulness with an oath, and was locked up in his cell again to await the fiscal.

Jeanie's eyes were bright with hope and gratitude. The darkness through which she had been so wearily groping was clearing at last; and James Falcon's was the hand which had brought the light. She was glad of that and proud of it— proud to know that she had not loved an unworthy man. Robin would own his worthiness too; he would be forced to own it when he learned that he owed his life to the man whom he had cursed as his cruellest foe. It was a selfish

feeling, perhaps, but now that his danger was passing away she could not help being gratified at the thought of how completely his suspicions and accusations would be confounded.

"The warst is by now, Jeamie," she said, resting her hand on his arm and looking in his face with sweet thankfulness. "Mister Carnegie canna say ony mair that there's nae direct proof against the Laird.”

Falcon turned his face from her; he could not yet look at it, and hear that low tender voice, without feeling his resolution disturbed. It was a bitter delight to him still to be near her under any conditions ; and his heart rose in mutiny against the task he had undertaken for her sake; for every step he advanced brought him nearer to the moment when face and voice must fade from him for ever.

He could only steady himself by taking the bit between his teeth, as it were, and hurrying on with the work of selfimmolation: : every pause was full of pain.

"I hope the worst is by," he answered, clearing his throat; "but Robin Gray will not be safe until we hae some evidence as to who struck Wattie Todd. As yet we can only prove that Carrach was at Askaig during the day; the crime was committed at night."

"But what we ken now will force the Laird to speak?" (anxiously).

"He'll say nothing as long as it's possible to avoid it. But you go down wi' Hutcheson to Mr. Carnegie and tell him about Donald. I'll join you in half an hour. I must go now and arrange about the burial of Wattie, as I promised Girzie. The fiscal will maybe hae come by that time, and after I see him we'll ken what to do next."

Falcon went up the street to the wright's. The wright was the undertaker of the town as well as the carpenter. He was not in the house at the time, but one of his children ran off to seek him. Whilst Falcon waited he took out the packet of his mother's letters Girzie had given him, and opened it, with the memory of a pale sad face rising out of the long-ago to soften the bitterness of the present.