The Washington times., 1913-01-06

/, what / may steal, or accepting food
| and shelter from those who, by their
acts. may incur their masters displeas-
! ure? There is but one way. / go to
surrender myself, come what may OF
But ye Gamma see the laird" said
Mistress Mary, as subterfuge. He
Is abed WI palms,
Then must offer you my sword, .
said Don John with most gallant
smile. War has brought me to sweet
misfortune
Mistress Mary went very red in the
face
| ..Irt could be my right to take it,
she said with some confusion, "ye wad
fare better" Then, remembering the
gravity of his position. she cried: "Oh,
will We no heed ard go back?'
| Nay, but I thank you," said he
| SOFTLY II cannot go back-now.
| "Rorie?' and. in her agitation, Mis-
tress Mary found herself appealing to a
iad OF eight summers, VIII ye no tell
him to go?''
TAX heed, even O. the hangin'." l ad-
mired Don Johns purpose mucn, but ii
was pleasant to take the side of so
sweet lady as my kinswoman.
Indeed" said Don John, smiling.
Me Scots are a generous people.
it back to me: his father drank my
health, and his mother fed me with oat-
cakes and honey. And now, my lady,
you entreat me to safety. Is there none
In Scotland to accept my sword? Or
Mistress Mary stepped to one side OF
the path and said Shgrily:
"Weel, gang yer ain gait.
Don John moved on, and / followed
after; but Mistress Mary caught my
arm and whispered:
''Oh, Rorie, Rorie Dinna let them
Kill him. Dinna-" Then she remembered
my age, 1 suppose, and she cried after
Don John desperately:
Come back, Oh. come back! Yen
hang in an hour"
Thank you. Mistress Mary said
Don John. IF you will remain here,
shall return in an hour"
IA that, Mistress Mary lost all pa
thence and stamped her foot But saw
big tears in her eyes, and that she liked
Don John as much as did; The last
saw of her she was standing on the
path with her back to US.
We came to the front door of the
castle. and Don John knocked with the
hilt of his sword.
Big Aundra opened the door, and
| when he saw the Spaniard he was like
to drop in fit. But the sight of me
| in the rear brought back his sense of
reality, and he demanded to know Don
Johns business.
| Here's another one, Rorier' laughed
Don John. How difficult it is to be
hangedi'
..Hangin', is't2" said Big Aundra, who
only half understood English. "Ye'n
hang, sure enough"
Thank you." said Don John; and,
| much to Big Aundra's amazement, he
| stepped into the hall. You come, too,
| Rorie,' he added.
i set down the milk pals at the door
and followed Don John and the aston
ished Aundra, who seemed to have col
lapsed under new thought. What ii
was did not understand at the mo-
ment, but the mans face had turned as
| white as If he had seen a ghost
ITO the laird" said Don John.
Big Aundra, now as docile as lamb
kin, led us UP a flight of stairs to the
upper story Of the castle. Presently he
stopped before a big oak door. From
behind it came subdued groans, min
Aundra pointed to it.. Don John
| knocked with his sword hilt, and a
| voice roared in answer:
Come in, you gommeril,'
| Don John pushed open the door and
l stepped inside, with me and Big Aundra
close on his heels Before Aundra or
4 I could see what happened, the laird
who was lying in bed with the pains,
gave fearsome skreigh and cried:
~. aundra, a,ca Aundra! A ghost! A
Aundra, instead of coming to his
masters assistance, took to his heels.
L could hear his great baachles SLAP
ping on the wooden stairs. and pres
emily there was a Wild gabbling among
the superstitious Hieland vassals.
As for the laird. he was doubled up
In bed with his plaid wrapped over
his head, and he was moaning. Don
John looked at him in plying amaze
ment; then he chuckled.
MY lord,' said he quietly.
The meaning ceased, and presently
| Black Jamie's shock of hair. and then
his face, gray as rainmist, came out
of the plaid. His look Of horror
changed to amazement and anger.
real blackamoor. Eh-hay?"
What makes you think I came
down from a tree" asked Don John.
In the name O. Heven. wha' he
ye?" cried Black Jamie, unconscious
ly dropping into English, which
should have told him that 1t was no
ghost that had addressed him. "Are
ye man or deevil?'
"A man." said Don John contemp-
think you are not"
l. Black jamie sat up in a rage.
II Am no man." he snarled. "a
may be a deevil: Master Blackamoor,
as We may find
/ saw Don Johns face darken and
heard his breath sough through his
nose. But nudged him. and he cal m
ed down.
L am mere, my lord, to claim the
ccurtesies of war and of equal rank
at least"
"Eh-hay? Toot" said the laird. his
manner visibly changing. "An what
may you be?'
Don John of Murcia. I offer sur
reEder, but the lad claims that"
Hoy, Rorie. is IT yourself?" said
the laird in Gaelic. noticing me for
the first time. "And what will We
| have to say, Rorie?"
So l told my story, not forgetting
Den Johns mercy to me. As | spoke
| Of II, Don John became uneasy.t The
laird's mouth curled in sneecr.
| "Eh-hay? He thocht L clip favor by
sparin' the bit lad. eh-hay2"
Then Don John broke out in wild
wrath His long, thin sword leaned
| from its sheath. He pitched IL in the
air and caught the blade half way
between the handle and the point
| "Sirrah," he cried. II will offer YOU
my sword; Will you take the hilt or
| the point?'
The laird's fierce orbs never qualied.
hut his gray. beetling eyebrows seemed
to bristle a wee. He calmly reached
out a hand.
"I will be takkin' the haunre,
thankee." said he.
Don John hesitated before the great
| gnarled hand that had strung seven uf
his companions on the yule-tree. Then,
| with the movement of a man who
I knows il is the LAST cast of the die he
! surrendered the blade. The laird's eyes
| cleaned.
| AYE, aye" said he, bending the blade
4 on the floor. It's a bonny weepon, but
| doesn't hear the mark o. much use"