CHAPTER XX FRIENDS IN TROUBLE.
One day in the month of December, when Malcolm Graheme was with his regiment on outpost duty closely watching the Imperialists, a countryman approached.
"Can you direct me to Captain Malcolm Graheme, who, they tell me, belongs to this regiment ?" "You have come to the right man," Malcolm said.

"I am Captain Graheme--what would you with me ?" "I am the bearer of a letter to you," the man said, and taking off his cap he pulled out the lining and brought out a letter hidden beneath it.
"I am to ask for some token from you by which it may be known that it has been safely delivered." Malcolm cut with his dagger the silk with which the letter was fastened.
It began: "From the Lady Hilda, Countess of Mansfeld, to Captain Malcolm Graheme of Colonel Munro's Scottish regiment .-- My dear friend,--I do not know whether you have heard the misfortune which has fallen upon us.

The town and castle of Mansfeld were captured two months since by a sudden assault of the Imperialists, and my dear husband was grievously wounded in the defence.

He was brought hither a prisoner, and Thekla and I also carried here.

As the count still lies ill with his wounds he is not placed in a prison, but we are treated as captives and a close watch is kept upon us.