ing the grate behind them, remained on the post as a sort of centinel.
"Ony ane or twa o' ye come forward," said the outlaw, "and take her frae my hand hale and sound."
Hobbie advanced eagerly to meet his betrothed bride. Earnscliff followed more slowly to guard against treachery. Suddenly Hobbie slackened his pace in the deepest mortification, while that of Earnscliff was hastened by impatient surprise. It was not Grace Armstrong, but Miss Isabella Vere, whose liberation had been effected by their appearance before the tower.
"Where is Grace? Where is Grace Armstrong?" exclaimed Hobbie, in the extremity of wrath and indignation.
"Not in my hands," answered Westburnflat; "ye may search the tower, if ye misdoubt me."
"You fause villain, you shall account for her, or die on the spot," said Elliot, presenting his gun.
