Last of all came Madame De Lacy, climbing the steep path with difficulty and holding fast to Ranald's arm.

With charming grace she discoursed of the brave days of old in which her ancestors had played a worthy part.

An interesting tale it was, but in spite of all her charm of speech, and grace of manner, Ranald could not keep his mind from following his heart and eyes that noted every step and move of the beautiful girl, flitting in and out among the trees before them.

And well it was that his eyes were following so close; for, as she was reaching for a dainty spray of golden birch, holding by the lieutenant's hand, the treacherous moss slipped from under Maimie's feet, and with a piercing shriek she went rolling down the sloping mountain-side, dragging her escort with her.

Like a flash of light Ranald dropped madame's arm, and seizing the top of a tall birch that grew up from the lower ledge, with a trick learned as a boy in the Glengarry woods, he swung himself clear over the edge, and dropping lightly on the mossy bank below, threw himself in front of the rolling bodies, and seizing them held fast.