He did not move nor speak for a time, and she stood as if paralyzed by fear.

She slowly turned her face from her father to me, and in a low tone spoke my name, "Malcolm." Her voice was hardly louder than a whisper, but so piteous a cry for help I have never heard from human lips.

Then she stooped, intending to take the letter from the floor, and Sir George drew back his arm as if he would strike her with his clenched hand.

She recoiled from him in terror, and he took up the letter, unfolded it, and began to read:-- "Most gracious lady, I thank you for your letter, and with God's help I will meet you at Bowling Green Gate--." The girl could endure no more.

She sprang with a scream toward her father and tried to snatch the letter.