John’s face turned more serious. He held a warning finger to his lips.

More movement from the clearing. This time it was obviously Robin and the others, for Emelia’s voice declared, “It has to be,” before her older brother hushed her.

Robin called, in a dramatic tone, “Montrose! We ken you’re there. Come out!”

When no reply came, he started walking closer. “Come, this gallant yew might well have saved ye once, but ye cannot depend upon it now.”

He’d discover them, thought Lily. He was nearly underneath them now. He knew that John was there, and he’d discover her and Jamie too, and then—

John turned beside them on the branch and disappeared from view. She heard his feet drop neatly to the ground. “Argyll!” he called, and walked into the clearing. “Here I am, ye devil! Take me as your prisoner.”

Emelia gave a squeal. “I telt ye! Did I not tell ye he’d be in the tree? John, do join us this one time. There’s none left but Jamie and Lily to find, and they’re small.”

John said, “I’ll not betray my king.”

Robin reminded him, “Prisoners go to the dungeon.”

Lily wasn’t certain where the “dungeon” was, she only knew it was a room within the house at Abercairney, chosen by the older brothers as a place no one would wish to be confined in, and she thought John very brave to choose it rather than turn Covenanter.

John said, “I’ll only escape, like I always do.”

“One day ye may not,” said Robin, “and what then?”

But Lily knew the dungeon wasn’t built that could hold John confined. She breathed a little easier when both the boys were gone, and turned to Jamie. “Should we move, while Robin’s gone?”

“There’s no need. John won’t tell him where we are. This is the perfect hiding place.”

Too perfect, maybe. No one came to look for them.

The afternoon wore on, and Lily’s legs grew stiff. “I’m going down,” she said.

But then, she found she couldn’t. Looking down, she found her muscles strangely paralyzed. She had climbed trees before, but never one this large, or high.

“It’s all right,” Jamie said, “I’ll help ye.”

Only nothing that he did could take away her fear, or make her arms and legs let go their fierce grip on the branch where they were sitting. Lily’s eyes burned hot with tears. “I’m sorry, Jamie.”

“It’s all right,” he said again. “The gardener has a ladder, ye can climb down that. I’ll just go fetch it.”

“No!” She grabbed him as he moved, and held his arm more tightly than the branch. “Don’t leave me, Jamie. Please don’t leave me here alone.”

She hated to be weak like this, and clinging. But this sudden fear, a thing that she had never felt until this day, was wildly irrational.

He settled back onto the branch. “It’s all right,” said Jamie, for the third time, “I’ll not leave ye.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

And he didn’t.