a small chamber of a quiet house in Glasgow, a girl was standing at the window and looking down the empty street. The November evening was closing in; the room somber and gloomy at any time, was in darkness save for the fire over which a young man sat, writing on a paper that he held on his knee. The firelight showed a resolute brown face, close-clipped brown hair and a large figure very plainly clad in a neat, dark cloth suit.
The scanty furniture consisted of a bureau, a few chairs, and a small table piled with papers.
"He is late, Perseus," said the girl in a tired voice. "It struck four some time since."
Both her accent and her face marked her as English; when the man glanced up it was easy to see he was her brother.
"He will come," he said quietly. "Why not?" And he fell to his busy writing again.
"Why not?" echoed the girl impatiently. "I think, Perseus, there are many reasons why a gentleman in King James's service may not cross England and Scotland in perfect safety."
"I have perfect confidence in Jerome Caryl," answered her brother, this time without an upward look. "A man who has been an adventurer all his life knows how to play the spy."
She let the curtain fall.
"I wish you would not use that word, Perseus," she said vexedly.
With a half-humorous sigh Sir Perseus Featherstonehaugh put aside the writing he could no longer see.
"My sweet Delia," he said. "We—Jerome, you, and I and all our friends represent a losing or a lost cause—"
"A rightful one," she put in.
"Certainly," he smiled, "but unfortunately at the present, a lost one—we are, my dear, without the law—in plain English, Jacobite spies dabbling in high treason—I want you to understand that, Delia."
His voice fell to gravity on the last words, but the girl bit her lip and tapped her foot impatiently.
"While we have King James's countenance we can never be spies—or guilty of treason in outwitting his enemies," she said impetuously.
"Nay," answered Sir Perseus, "but we may be hanged, my dear."
Delia Featherstonehaugh flung up her head: "And we may give the King again his kingdom," she smiled.
"God grant it," answered her brother gently, "but before we go any further—before we hear Jerome's news, before we make any more plans—I want you to see it as it is—Delia, we are staking our lives in the King's service."
"But you would not turn back!" she cried.
"Why, no," he answered. "But you are not bound to follow my fortunes."
Delia swept into the center of the room, her heavy satin dress rustling; a noble dim figure in the dusk.
"Are you not all I have, Perseus?" she said unsteadily. "Is it so long ago since father was slain by the Boyne and we vowed to serve the King he died for? Oh, my dear, why should you think I want to turn aside into placid safety?"
"Delia!" Sir Perseus held out his hand, "’tis only that sometimes I think you do not see the danger—"
"Why, I do love it," she interrupted gaily. "The excitement is life to me—and you forget—are there so few faithful in England? We are only two of thousands who plot, and wait and long for the rightful King again!"
With a little laugh she came behind him and put her hand on his shoulder, while she gazed over his head into the fire.
"Yea, we will do it," said Sir Perseus quietly. "We will oust the Dutchman, I think, Delia—there is a huge discontent everywhere." He tapped the papers he had been writing, "there—in my reports to his Majesty, I have to mention many great men who would welcome him back—" he smiled grimly. "Many of them, those who welcomed William—"
"If his Majesty would but himself come over," sighed Delia. "I think all England would rise to greet him!"
"Indeed," answered her brother, "William has no friend in England—I marvel he holds the throne at all—"
"’Twill not be for long," cried Delia, with glittering eyes—"But—hark!"
A knock resounded through the empty house; Sir Perseus rose. "’Tis Jerome Caryl," he said.
His sister gave a little pant of suppressed excitement; the bold and restless spirit of Jerome Caryl was akin to her own; he was the soul of this plot in which she was engaged; of her own religion, her own views; a man whom next to her brother she admired of all others.
And for six months she had not seen him; the while he plotted in London, they plotted in Scotland; he might have great news to tell; she was confident his fervor and ability could remove obstacles that to the slower mind of her brother seemed insurmountable.