"John, John, no violence, no violence!" exclaimed Lady Rae, in great
alarm at the sanguinary view of the process for her husband's liberation
which John had taken. "No violence. If his lordship's liberation be
attempted at all, there must be no violence; at least none to the
shedding of blood, or to the inflicting the smallest injury on any one.
The idea is horrible; and, if acted on, would only make matters worse.
Your own life, John, would be the forfeit of such an atrocious
proceeding."

"Foich, a figs for tat, my letty, beggin' your lettyship's pardon,"
replied John, a good deal disappointed at the peaceful tone of his
mistress, and at the loss of an opportunity, such as he had long
desired, of taking vengeance on his master's guards and jailers. "Foich,
a figs for tat, my letty, beggin' your lettyship's pardon," he said. "I
could teuk to the hills in a moment's notice, and see who'll catch John
M'Kay then."

"Well, well, perhaps, John, you might, but you must speak no more of
violence; I charge you, speak no more of it. We will, in the meantime,
go to his lordship and submit the matter to him, and be guided
thereafter by his advice."

Having said this, Lady Rae directed her steps to the jail, and, closely
followed by M'Kay, was soon after in the apartment of the prisoner.

Lord Rae having been apprised by his lady of the result of her interview
with Cromwell, a secret consultation between the two, which lasted
nearly an hour, ensued.