"To my private apartment behind the tapestry," answered the

prostrate nobleman.
"From thence how shall I reach the gateway?"

"Through the grand gallery, the anteroom, the lackeys' waiting
hall, the grand guardroom--"

"All crowded with soldiers, factionaries, and attendants?--that
will never do for me, my lord;--have you no secret passage to the

gate, as you have to your dungeons? I have seen such in
Germany."

"There is a passage through the chapel," said the Marquis,
"opening from my apartment."

"And what is the pass-word at the gate?"
"The sword of Levi," replied the Marquis; "but if you will

receive my pledge of honour, I will go with you, escort you
through every guard, and set you at full liberty with a

passport."
"I might trust you, my lord, were your throat not already black

with the grasp of my fingers--as it is, BESO LOS MANOS A USTED,
as the Spaniard says. Yet you may grant me a passport;--are

there writing materials in your apartment?"
"Surely; and blank passports ready to be signed. I will attend

you there," said the Marquis, "instantly."
"It were too much honour for the like of me," said Dalgetty;

"your lordship shall remain under charge of mine honest friend
Ranald MacEagh; therefore, prithee let me drag you within reach

of his chain.--Honest Ranald, you see how matters stand with us.
I shall find the means, I doubt not, of setting you at freedom.

Meantime, do as you see me do; clap your hand thus on the weasand
of this high and mightyprince, under his ruff, and if he offer

to struggle or cry out, fail not, my worthy Ranald, to squeeze
doughtily; and if it be AD DELIQUIUM, Ranald, that is, till he

swoon, there is no great matter, seeing he designed your gullet
and mine to still harder usage."

"If he offer at speech or struggle," said Ranald, "he dies by my
hand."

"That is right, Ranald--very spirited:--A thorough-going friend
that understands a hint is worth a million!"

Thus resigning the charge of the Marquis to his new confederate,
Dalgetty pressed the spring, by which the secret door flew open,

though so well were its hinges polished and oiled, that it made
not the slightest noise in revolving. The opposite side of the

door was secured by very strong bolts and bars, beside which hung
one or two keys, designed apparently to undo fetterlocks. A

narrow staircase, ascending up through the thickness of the
castle-wall, landed, as the Marquis had truly informed him,

behind the tapestry of his private apartment. Such
communications were frequent in old feudal castles, as they gave

the lord of the fortress, like a second Dionysius, the means of
hearing the conversation of his prisoners, or, if he pleased, of

visiting them in disguise, an experiment which had terminated so
unpleasantly on the present occasion for Gillespie Grumach.

Having examined previously whether there was any one in the
apartment, and finding the coast clear, the Captain entered, and

hastily possessing himself of a blank passport, several of which
lay on the table, and of writing materials, securing, at the same

time, the Marquis's dagger, and a silk cord from the hangings, he
again descended into the cavern, where, listening a moment at the

door, he could hear the half-stifled voice of the Marquis making
great proffers to MacEagh, on condition he would suffer him to

give an alarm.
"Not for a forest of deer--not for a thousand head of cattle,"

answered the freebooter; "not for all the lands that ever called
a son of Diarmid master, will I break the troth I have plighted

to him of the iron-garment!"
"He of the iron-garment," said Dalgetty, entering, "is bounden

unto you, MacEagh, and this noble lord shall be bounden also; but
first he must fill up this passport with the names of Major

Dugald Dalgetty and his guide, or he is like to have a passport
to another world."

The Marquis subscribed, and wrote, by the light of the dark
lantern, as the soldier prescribed to him.

"And now, Ranald," said Dalgetty, "strip thy upper garment--thy
plaid I mean, Ranald, and in it will I muffle the M'Callum More,

and make of him, for the time, a Child of the Mist;--Nay, I must
bring it over your head, my lord, so as to secure us against your

mistimed clamour.--So, now he is sufficientlymuffled;--hold down
your hands, or, by Heaven, I will stab you to the heart with your

own dagger!--nay, you shall be bound with nothing less than silk,
as your quality deserves.--So, now he is secure till some one

comes to relieve him. If he ordered us a late dinner, Ranald, he
is like to be the sufferer;--at what hour, my good Ranald, did

the jailor usually appear?"
"Never till the sun was beneath the western wave," said MacEagh.

"Then, my friend, we shall have three hours good," said the
cautious Captain. "In the meantime, let us labour for your

liberation."
To examine Ranald's chain was the next occupation. It was undone

by means of one of the keys which hung behind the private door,
probably deposited there, that the Marquis might, if he pleased,

dismiss a prisoner, or remove him elsewhere without the necessity
of summoning the warden. The outlaw stretched his benumbed arms,

and bounded from the floor of the dungeon in all the ecstasy of
recovered freedom.

"Take the livery-coat of that noble prisoner," said Captain
Dalgetty; "put it on, and follow close at my heels."

The outlaw obeyed. They ascended the private stair, having first
secured the door behind them, and thus safely reached the

apartment of the Marquis.
[The precarious state of the feudal nobles introduced a great

deal of espionage into their castles. Sir Robert Carey mentions
his having put on the cloak of one of his own wardens to obtain a

confession from the mouth of Geordie Bourne, his prisoner, whom
be caused presently to be hanged in return for the frankness of

his communication. The fine old Border castle of Naworth
contains a private stair from the apartment of the Lord William

Howard, by which he could visit the dungeon, as is alleged in the
preceding chapter to have been practised by the Marquis of

Argyle.]
CHAPTER XIV.

This was the entry then, these stairs--but whither after?
Yet he that's sure to perish on the land

May quit the nicety of card and compass,
And trust the open sea without a pilot. TRAGEDY OF BENNOVALT.

"Look out for the private way through the chapel, Ranald," said
the Captain, "while I give a hasty regard to these matters."

Thus speaking, he seized with one hand a bundle of Argyle's most
private papers, and with the other a purse of gold, both of which

lay in a drawer of a rich cabinet, which stood invitingly open.
Neither did he neglect to possess himself of a sword and pistols,

with powder-flask and balls, which hung in the apartment.
"Intelligence and booty," said the veteran, as he pouched the

spoils, "each honourablecavalier should look to, the one on his
general's behalf, and the other on his own. This sword is an

Andrew Ferrara, and the pistols better than mine own. But a fair
exchange is no robbery. Soldados are not to be endangered, and

endangered gratuitously, my Lord of Argyle.--But soft, soft,
Ranald; wise Man of the Mist, whither art thou bound?"

It was indeed full time to stop MacEagh's proceedings; for, not
finding the private passage readily, and impatient, it would

seem, of farther delay, he had caught down a sword and target,
and was about to enter the great gallery, with the purpose,

doubtless, of fighting his way through all opposition.
"Hold, while you live," whispered Dalgetty, laying hold on him.

"We must be perdue, if possible. So bar we this door, that it