Listen! I have received a last offer from my uncle Joshua.

An arrow brought it--not a man; I think that no man would come lest his fate should be that of the traitor of yesterday," and she produced a slip of parchment that had been tied to the shaft of an arrow and, unfolding it, read as follows-- "O Walda Nagasta, deliver up to death the Gentiles who have bewitched you and led you to shed the blood of so many of your people, and with them the officers of the Mountaineers, and the rest shall be spared.

You also I will forgive and make my wife.

Resist, and all who cling to you shall be put to the sword, and to yourself I promise nothing.
"Written by order of the Council, "Joshua, Prince of the Abati." "What answer shall I send ?" she asked, looking at us curiously.
"Upon my word," replied Orme, shrugging his shoulders, "if it were not for those faithful officers I am not sure but that you would be wise to accept the terms.

We are cooped up here, but a few surrounded by thousands, who, if they dare not assault, still can starve us out, as this place is not victualled for a siege." "You forget one of those terms, O Oliver!" she said slowly, pointing with her finger to the passage in the letter which stated that Joshua would make her his wife, "Now do you still counsel surrender ?" "How can I ?" he answered, flushing, and was silent.
"Well, it does not matter what you counsel," she went on with a smile, "seeing that I have already sent my answer, also by arrow.