The boy turned a glance of sour reproof upon his companion. He
had not stirred from his chair while Crispin had been at the
door.

"You lied to them," he said at last.

"Sh! Not so loud, sweet youth," was the answer that lost
nothing of menace by being subdued. "Tomorrow, if you please,
I will account to you for offending your delicate soul by
suggesting a falsehood in your presence. To-night we have a
man's life to save, and that, I think, is work enough. Come,
Master Stewart, we are being watched. Let us resume our game."

His eye, fixed in cold command upon the boy, compelled
obedience. And the lad, more out of awe of that glance than
out of any desire to contribute to the saving of Hogan, mutely
consented to keep up this pretence. But in his soul he
rebelled. He had been reared in an atmosphere of honourable
and religious bigotry. Hogan was to him a coarse ruffler; an
evil man of the sword; such a man as he abhorred and accounted
a disgrace to any army - particularly to an army launched upon
England under the auspices of the Solemn League and Covenant.

Hogan had been guilty of an act of brutality; he had killed a
man; and Kenneth deemed himself little better, since he
assisted in harbouring instead of discovering him, as he held
to be his duty. But 'neath the suasion of Galliard's
inexorable eye he sat limp and docile, vowing to himself that
on the morrow he would lay the matter before Lord Middleton,
and thus not only endeavour to make amends for his present