by the despondency that sat upon his face and drew deep furrows
down his fine brow.

With a sigh he rose at last and idly fingered the papers he had
taken from the pocket of Kenneth's coat. As he did so his
glance was arrested by the signature at the foot of one.
"Gregory Ashburn" was the name he read.

Ashen grew his cheeks as his eyes fastened upon that name,
whilst the hand, to which no peril ever brought a tremor, shook
now like an aspen. Feverishly he spread the letter on his
knee, and with a glance, from dull that it had been, grown of a
sudden fierce and cruel, he read the contents.



DEAR KENNETH,

Again I write in the hope that I may prevail upon you to quit
Scotland and your attachment to a king, whose fortunes prosper
not, nor can prosper. Cynthia is pining, and if you tarry
longer from Castle Marleigh she must perforce think you but a
laggard lover. Than this I have no more powerful argument
wherewith to draw you from Perth to Sheringham, but this I
think should prevail where others have failed me. We await you
then, and whilst we wait we daily drink your health. Cynthia
commends herself to your memory as doth my brother, and soon we
hope to welcome you at Castle Marleigh. Believe, my dear
Kenneth, that whilst I am, I am yours in affection.