CHAPTER X.
What a brave group we have! That fellow there, He with the cushion, would outprate the cricket; The babble of the brook is not more constant, Or syllabled with such monotony, Than the eternal tingle of his tongue.
_Cor._ I'll bid him silence, master; Or do him so, which likes you.
_The Prioress._
We must now leave the two commanders in plights more dismal than evercommanders were before, and return to our warden, the bold baron ofMountcomyn, whose feats form a more pleasant and diverting subject. Hiswarfare all this while was of a predatory nature,--for that his warriorswere peculiarly fitted, and at this time they did not fail to availthemselves well of the troubles on the border, and the prevailing powerof the Scots alongst its line. The warden pretended still to be actingin concert with Douglas, but his operations were all according to thepurposes of his own heart. He cared nothing for the success or theaggrandisement of Douglas; but he had a particular eye to theadvancement of his own house, and the honour of his kinsmen. It wastherefore a matter of daily consultation with him and his friends, howthey should act in conformity with this ruling principle. Theprobability was against Douglas, that he would ultimately fail in hisundertaking, and be stripped of all his dominions. Viewing the matter inthat light, it was high time for the Redhough to be providing forhimself. On the other hand, should Douglas succeed in his enterprize,and become the king's son-in-law, there was no other way by which thewarden could hold his own, save by a certain species of subordination, asubmission in effect, though not by acknowledgment. Such matters wereperfectly understood by the chiefs in these times, and all who provedrefractory were taught in silence to feel the grounds on which theystood, This was, therefore, a most critical period for Sir Ringan. Thefuture advancement of his house depended on every turn of his hand.During all the former part of the siege he had conducted himself with aneye to Douglas' failure, to which he was partly incited by theprophecies of Thomas the Rhymer, and those of his kinsman, MasterMichael Scott of Oakwood, whom he believed the most powerful wizard, andthe greatest prophet, that ever had arisen since the Rhymer's days.
But, on the return of Charlie of Yardbire and Dan Chisholm from thebeleaguering army, the warden got the extraordinary intelligence, thatthe Lady Jane Howard had fallen into the hands of the Douglas, as wellas Musgrave's only brother. These things changed Sir Ringan's prospectsof the future in a very material degree, and he pondered on changing hismode of operations. Before doing so, however, he called a council of hiskinsmen, and brought the matter again before them. Most of themcounselled the continuance of the predatory warfare in which they hadbeen engaged; it had served to enrich them, and had proved, as theyreasoned, of more service to the Douglas than if they had joined hishost. That it proved of more service to himself and his kinsmen than ifthey had joined the host, the warden was well aware; but he was notsatisfied that the Douglas viewed their mountain warfare as of greatconsequence to him; and he farther knew, that services were alwaysrepaid, not according to the toil and exertion undergone, but accordingas they were estimated, while that estimation was ever and anon modelledby the apparent motives of the performer.
After much slow and inanimate reasoning on the matter, Sir Ringanchanced, after a minute's deep thought, to say, "What would I not giveto know the events that are to happen at Roxburgh between this time andthe end of the Christmas holidays?"
"Auld Michael Scott will ken brawly," said Charlie of Yardbire.
"Then, what for shoudna we ken too?" said the knight.
"Aye, what for shoudna we ken too?" said Dickie o' Dryhope.
"They might get a kittle cast that meddled wi' him, an' nae the wiserafter a'," said Robert of Howpasley.
"When he was at pains to come a' the way to the castle of Mountcomyn,"said Simon Longspeare, "a matter o' five Scots miles ower the moor, towarn our captain, the warden, how to row his bowls, he surely winnarefuse to tell him what's to be the final issue o' this daft contest."
"Ane wad think he wadna spare a cantrip or twa," said Sir Ringan; "himthat has spirits at his ca', an' canna get them hadden i' wark. It wadbe an easy matter for him; an' blood's aye thicker than water."
"Ay, that's a true tale," said Dickie o' Dryhope; "It wad be an easymatter for him, we a' ken that; an' blood's aye thicker than water!"
"If I were to gang wi' a gallant retinue," said Sir Ringan, "he surelywadna refuse to gie me some answer."
"He wad refuse the king o' France," said Robert of Howpasley, "if hewarna i' the key for human conversation, an' maybe gar his familiarspirits carry you away, and thraw ye into the sea, or set you down i'some faraway land, for a piece o' employment to them, and amusement tohimsel'. He has served mony ane that gate afore now."
"Od I'll defy him," said muckle Charlie of Yardbire. "If my master, thewarden, likes to tak me wi' him for his elbowman, I'll answer for himagainst a' the monkey spirits that auld Michael has."
"Spoke like yourself, honest Charlie!" said the baron; "and if it isjudged meet by my friends that I should go, you shall be one that shallattend me. Certes, it would be of incalculable benefit to me, for allyour sakes, to know even by a small hint what is to be the upshot ofthis business--But should I be taken away or detained--"
"Ay, should he be taken away or detained, gentlemen: think of that,gentlemen," said Dickie o' Dryhope.
"I approve highly of the mission," said Simon Longspeare; "for I believethere is nothing too hard for that old wizard to do, and no event soclosely sealed up in futurity, but that he can calculate with a gooddeal of certainty on the issue. I see that our all depends on ourknowledge of the event; but I disapprove of our chief attending on thewizard in person--for in his absence who is to be our commander? And,should any sudden rising of our foes take place, of which we are everyhour uncertain, we may lose more by the want of him one hour than wecould ever regain."
"Ay, think of that, gentlemen," said Dickie: "My cousin Longspearespeaks good sense. What could we do wanting Sir Ringan. We're allchildren to him, and little better without him."
"And old children are the worst of all children," said the warden; "Iwould rather be deaved with the teething yammer than the toothlesschatter. Prithee, peace, and let us hear out our cousin Simon'sproposal."
The circle of the gallant kinsmen did not like ill to hear this snub onold Dickie. They could not account for the chief's partiality to him;and they were even afraid that, being the oldest man, he should benominated to the command in the knight's absence. It was however notedby all, that Dickie was not half so great a man in field or foray as hewas at board in the castle of Mountcomyn. Only a very few men ofexperience discerned the bottom of this. The truth was, that Sir Ringandid not care a doit either for Dickie's counsels or his arm, but he sawthat his lady abhorred him, and therefore he would not yield to cast himoff. His lady was of a high spirit and proud unyielding temper, and theknight could not stand his own with her at all times and seasons; butbefore his kinsmen warriors he was particularly jealous of his dignity,and would not yield to the encroachment on it of a single item. It wasby this kind of elemental opposition, if it may be so termed, thatDickie maintained his consequence at the warden's castle. In the fieldhe was nothing more than a foolish vain old kinsman.
"I propose," said Longspeare," that we send a deputation of our _notablemen_ to the warlock, of whom we have some of the first that perhaps everthe world produced. As a bard, or minstrel, we can send Colley Carol, aman that is fit to charm the spirits out of the heart of the earth, orthe bowels of the cloud, without the aid of old Michael. As a man ofcrabbed wit and endless absurdity, we can send the Deil's Tam: As a truenatural and moral philosopher, the Laird o' the Peatstacknowe: As oneversed in all the mysteries of religion, and many mysteries beside, orsome tell lies, we can send the gospel friar. All these are men ofspirit, and can handle the sword and the bow either less or more: And asa man of unequalled strength and courage, and a guard and captain overall the rest, we can send Charlie o' Yard
bire--and I will defy all thekingdoms of Europe to send out sic another quorum either to emperor,Turk, wizard, or the devil himself."
Every one applauded Simon Longspeare's motion, and declared thedeputation worthy of being sent out, if it were for nothing but its ownunrivalled excellence. Never, they said, since the mind of man wasframed, was there such a combination of rare talent in so small acircle. There was none of those nominated for the mission presentexcepting muckle Charlie Scott. Charlie scratched his head, andsaid:--"Gude faith, callans, I hae a queer bike to gang wi! he-he-he! Ifear we'll get mae to laugh at us than gie us ought: The Deil'sTam an' the metre poet! the fat gospel friar, and the laird o' thePeatstacknowe! I never gaed out on sic a foray as this afore, an' littledo I wot how we'll come on. He-he-he! A wheen queer chaps, faith!"
The jocund kinsmen then shouted to Gibby Jordan of the Peatstacknowe tocome into the circle, that they might hear what he had to say aboutgoing on this celebrated embassy. This gentleman's name had erst beenGordon: By some mistake, either in spelling, or falling into some foultub by night, for some grounded it both ways, it had been changed on himto Jordan, and, as he had no resource, he was obliged to admit it aslegitimate. He was a man of education, and could read, write, and castup accounts. But his figure, features, and the nasal twine with which hepronounced every word that he spoke, rendered his discourse irresistiblyludicrous. Every one was so ready to give Jordan the information, thathe was chosen as one to go on a deputation to Master Michael Scott thewarlock, that the laird for a long time could not get a word said; butstood and looked about him, turning always round his long nose to thespeaker that was loudest, or him that was poking him most forcibly toobtain attention.
"Gentlemen," said Gibby Jordan, "you mind me of a story that I haveheard about a paddock that was lying on the plowed land, an' by comesthe harrows, an' they gangs out ower the tap o' the poor paddock, an'every tooth gae her a tite an' a turn ower. 'What's the matter wi' youthe day, Mrs Paddock?' says the goodman: 'Naething ava, but rather owermony masters this morning,' quo' the paddock; 'I wish I were safe i' myhole again, an' let them ring on.' Sae master's, I'll tak the paddock'shint, an' wish ye a' a good morning."
There was no such escape for the honest laird; they surrounded him, andinsisted on hearing his sentiments at full length, teasing him till hebegan to lose his temper, a thing in which they delighted, for the moremischief the better sport for these wild border moss-troopers. Butmuckle Charlie perceiving this, came up to his side. "Callants, I'mappointit Gibby's guard," said he, "an' his guard I'll be. What the deilhas ony o' you to say to him?"
"Only to hear what he thinks o' the journey," was repeated on all sides.
"Gentlemen," said Gibby, "the hale affair brings me a-mind of a storythat I hae heard about a wife that had a batch o' chickens. But then, yemaun mind, gentlemen, she had a very great deal o' chickens, I daresaynae fewer than a hunner, for she had sax great cleckings; an' she wasunco feared that the gled wad tak them away; sae she wales out a wheeno' the fattest an' the best, an' she sends them out to the cock, that hemight herd an' tak care o' them. 'The cock will fleg away the gleds,'quo she, 'an' gar them keep their distance, an' I'll get my braw birdsa' saved.' But by comes the greedy gled; an' when the cock saw him hecroups an' he currs; an' blithe to keep his ain skin hale, he staps hishead in a hole, an' the gled carried off the hale o' his bit charge.Weel, the gled, he fand them sae fat an' sae gusty, that he never linnedtill he had taen away every chicken that the wife had."
"Where is the moral of that story, laird?" cried they: "We see nocoincidence."
"Because ye're blind," said Jordan: "Dinna ye see that Michael's thecock, the deil's the gled, an' ye're the birds. He'll get us first; an'he'll find out that we're sic a wheen rare chaps, that he'll never blin'till he hae ye ilk ane, an' that will be the end o' your daft embassy."
All the rest of the nominated members being sent for expressly fromtheir different posts, they soon arrived, but they seemed every one tobe averse to the mission, except Colley the minstrel, who was elevatedwith the idea of being introduced to the celebrated Master, anticipatingsomething highly romantic, and precisely in his own way. As for ThomasCraik, better known by the singular appellation of the Deil's Tam, hecared not much about any thing, provided he got plenty of drink,mischief, and breaking of heads.
They got all that day to prepare themselves, while Sir Ringan and hisfriends were considering what they should send as a present to theillustrious necromancer. They weened he despised riches, believing thathe could turn small slates to gold by touching them; and, after muchconsultation, it was resolved to send him a captive maiden and boy, asthey had two in the camp, of exquisite loveliness. The maid was thereputed daughter of Sir Anthony Hall, an inveterate enemy to the baronof Mountcomyn, who had burned his castles and plundered his lands; butthe warden at length engaging with him hand to hand at the battle ofBlaikhope, slew him, and having discomfited his army, he plundered andharried all that pertained to him, at which time he took this beautifulmaiden prisoner, whom he treated kindly, and kept as an handmaiden. Hername was Delany; and so lovely was she become in person, and so amiablein her manners, that several of the knight's kinsmen had asked her inmarriage. These applications he had uniformly put off, on pretence ofhis friends degrading themselves by marrying a captive Englishwoman, aterm that never sounded in a Scot's ear but with disgust. But, in fact,the warden did not choose that any of them should be so closelyconnected with an old respectable Northumberland family.
The boy was called Elias, and was the property of Jock o' Gilmanscleuch,having been taken by him in a night foray at Rothbury. When the wardenapplied to Jock for him, bidding him name his ransom, he answered, thatif he wist "Michael wad either mak a warlock o' him, or tak out hisharigalds to be a sacrifice to the deil, he wadna gie him up for a' thelands o' Newburgh an' Birkendely." Being pacified on these points aswell as matters would bear, the two captives were dressed in elegantrobes, and delivered to the embassy; Charlie was deputed their captainand leader; the rest were all to be equals, on the same footing, and tochoose their own speakers.
After getting every direction regarding the purport of their mission,the caution and respect which they were to use toward the Master, andthe questions they were to get answered, they departed; every one wellmounted on an English horse, the friar on his own substantial mule, andsuch provision with them as they judged necessary. Carol, the bard, hada lyre and a flute. Gibby Jordan, ycleped of the Peatstacknowe, hadnothing beside a rusty sword; the friar had an immense wallet below him,judged to be all implements of enchantment; the others had deer orgoatskin wallets, stuffed with such things as they deemed necessary; andall of them wore arms, in case of meeting with any unknown interruption.Several of the gallant kinsmen shed tears on taking leave of Delany;who, contrary to what they all expected, seemed full of gaiety, andrather fond of the change than disheartened at it.
Well, away they rode; and, as soon as they were fairly out of sight ofthe army, every one began to attach himself to Delany more closely thanhis neighbour. The friar talked to her of penances, and the sins ofyouth, and the unlimited confidence due to the professors of religion.The bard chanted his wildest and most amorous ditties. Tam punned andquibbled on the words of the rest; and Gibby continued to narrate hislong-winded parables, sometimes to one, sometimes to another, as hefound them disposed to listen, and sometimes to none at all. As forCharlie, he contented himself with laughing at them all alternately, andoccasionally exchanging a word or sentiment with a valued friend of his.
"Corby, what's a' this cocking o' your lugs, an' casting up o' your headfor, lad? Ye're gaun the wrang road for a battle e'en now. An let youbut see the sword an' pree the spur, ye dog, ye wad carry your master tothe deil: an' troth, for ought he kens, ye may be carrying him born-headto his honour just now, ye unconscionable tike that ye are."
Corby first laid back one ear and then the other, which Charlie tookfor a kind answer; and, patting his mane, he continued: "Na, na, Corby;I ken ye h
ae nae ill designs; but only ye ken ye like a little mischief,an' a bit splutter now an' than."
"That minds me o' the story o' Janet Sandilands an' her son Jock," saidGibby Jordan the philosopher, "when he ruggit her hair, an' raive herbussing. 'That callant sude hae his hide threshed for lifting his handto his mother,' said one: 'Na, na,' quo Janet, 'he maunna be threshed;Jock has nae ill in his mind, only he likes a tulzie.' She that wad haea close cog sude keep a hale laiggen, Yardbire; for as the auld sayingrins, 'Lippen to a Corby, an' he'll pike out your een.'"
"Shame fa' me gin I see the drift o' your philosophy, Peatstacknowe; butas I'm sure it is weel meant, it sanna be ill ta'en. Corby an' me's twaauld friends, an' we hae a great deal to lippen to ane another. But Iwish we had this unsonsy job ower, laird--we're gaun on kittle ground."
"It minds me something o' the fisher that ran away after theWilly-an'-the-wisp," said Jordan: "It's a lang story, but it's weelwordy the hearing."
"If it be a _very_ lang story, we might as weel crack about somethingelse," said Charlie. "My heart's unco muckle turned on this daft job o'prying into the time that's to come, an' on what we're to say to thewarlock. Gude saif us, laird, wha's to be the speaker? I wish thatfleysome job maunna light on you? For you see, gin we set the deil's Tamto address him, he'll put him mad at the very first. The poet can bringout naething but rhames o' high flown nonsense; an' for mysel, I'm anunco plain matter-o'-fact man, an' better at good straiks than goodwords. Sae that the matter maun lie atween you an' the friar. What sayyou to this, Peatstacknowe?"
"Gude troth, Yardbire, an the task light on either of us, it may weelbring me in mind o' the laird o' Glencarthon, when he stack i' themidden at Saint Johnston, an' tint himsel i' the dark entry. The laird,you see, he comes to the door of a sow-house, an' calls out, 'Goodpeople within there, can you tell me the way to the Queen's hostlery?''Oogh?' cried the auld sow. The laird repeated his question quitedistinctly, which disturbing some o' the pigs, they came to the back o'the door an' fell a murmuring an' squeaking. 'What do you say?' said thelaird in his turn: 'I'll thank you if you will not just speak sovehemently.' The pigs went on. 'Oh, I hear you speak Erse in thishouse,' said the laird; 'but, no matter: thank you for your information,I will try to work my way.' Now you see, Yardbire, like draws aye tolike; an' for the friar, wi' his auld warld says, or me, to address thegreat Master, it wad be a reversing o' nature an' the very order ofthings. I hae nae hope o' our good success at a', an it warna for thatbonnie Delany. If he's a man, an' no just an incarnate deil, he will bedelightit wi' her."
"I wish we had her safely at him, laird," said Charlie; "for, troth, doye see, thae chaps hing about her, an' look at her as gin they wadnacare to eat her."
"She brings me amind o' a weelfaurd dink gimmer that wench," saidJordan, "that I aince saw gaun up Sowerhopeburn. There was a tichel o'wallidraggle tup hoggs rinning after her, an' plaguing her, till I wasjust grieved for the poor beast. At length down there comes awheel-horned ram, the king o' the flock, an' he taks up his station bythe side o' the bonny thing, an' than a' the young ranigalds slinkitaway as their noses had been blooding. Then the bonny she thing gotpeace, for whenever ony o' the rascallions began to jee up his lug, an'draw near her, ae glent o' the auld fellow's ee stoppit him short. Now,Yardbire, I trow it is a shame to see a pretty maid jaumphed an'jur-mummled in that gate: if you will just ride close up to the tae sideo' her, I'll tak up the tither, an' we'll gar them keep a due distance.There's nane o' them dares shoulder you aside."
"I doubt, laird, there is something selfish in that plan o' yours," saidCharlie; "ye hae a hankering yonder yourself, but ye darena try to makeyour ain way without ye get me to back ye. Fight dog, fight bane,Peatstacknowe; gin I be to tulzie for a bonny may, I tulzie for my ainhand."
"It wad be sae weel done to chap them back," said Jordan: "See to themetre poet how he's capering an' turning up his mou': Yon fat hypocrite,the warlock friar, is blinking out frae aneath his sanctified ee-breeslike a Barbary ape: An' there's the deil's Tam; od I think he'll hae hislang coulter nose stappit into her lug."
"Ride up, neighbour," quoth Charlie, "an' tell them that face to face. Ilike nae yethering ahint backs. Ane may ward a blow at the breast, but aprod at the back's no fair. A man wears neither ee nor armour there.Ride up, ride up, neighbour, gin you winna tell them a' you have said,I'll e'en tell them mysel."
"Yardbire, I hope ye're no gaen gyte, to breed despite amang thewarden's ambassadors to the deil. Stop till I tell you a queer jokethat's come into my mind by your speaking about armour ahint. Last year,when the dalesmen were cried out in sic a hurry for the Durham raide,there was ane o' Fairniehirst's troopers got strong breastplates o'steel made to defend his heart. There was ane Brogg Paterson in Hawick,a wag that I kenned weel, was employed to fit the harnessing to theclothes; and learning that the raide was to be early in the morning, an'nae leisure for shifting, an' seeing the trooper so intent on protectinghis heart, instead o' putting the steel plates in the inside o' hisdoublet, Paterson fastened them in the seat of his trews. After passingthe Tine, the Scots encamped within a half moon of an impervious brake,and sent out a party of foragers, among whom was this trooper Turnbull.The party were pursued by a body of English horse, and several of themslain; but Turnbull reaching the brake, plunged into it, horse and man.The horse stuck fast, and just as poor Turnbull was trying to extricatehimself, by scrambling over the horse's head, an Englishman came ridingfiercely up, and struck him such a blow with his lance behind as wouldhave spitted him to the neck,--but hitting right on the steel plate, hemade him fly heels-o'er-head over the brake, and into a place of safety.A comrade perceiving, came to assist him, and found Turnbull lyingon the ground, repeating to himself these words with the utmostdevotion:--"God bless Brogg Paterson in Hawick! God bless Brogg Patersonin Hawick!" "Wherefore that?" said the other. "Because," said Turnbull,"he kend better where my heart lay than I did."
Charlie laughed so heartily at this jocular tale, that he did not exposeGibby Jordan of the Peatstacknowe to his associates at that time; butkeeping behind with him he held him in conversation, though he saw thathis teeth were watering to be near the fair Delany.
They came that night to a place called Trows, on the English side of theborder, but adjoining to the very ridge of the fells. The name of thehind who sojourned there was Jock Robson. He had a good stock both ofcows and sheep, being so thoroughly a neutral man that both sides sparedhim, and both sides trusted him. He gave a night's grass to the drivencattle and sheep from each side, and a night's lodging to the drivers;and for this he exacted kane sheep, or a small cow, which none evergrudged him, because they found themselves so much at home in his house.He would assist either party in catching a prey, and either party inrecovering it again, taking rewards from both; and, though both theEnglish and the Scots knew of this, they never trusted him the less, forthey knew that what he undertook he would fulfil, but no farther; out ofyour sight, out of your pay and out of your service with Jock Robson.
At this yeoman's habitation our notable embassy arrived at a late hour,for, though scarcely five o'clock afternoon, it was pitch dark. Theycalled at the door, and out came Jock with a light. The first man thathe beheld was the friar.
"Saint Mary's jerkin be about us!" cried Jock Robson, half in sport,half in earnest, "and defend us from our auld black minny's delegates.What seeks Lucky Church amang the hills o' Cheviot, wi' her creeds an'her croons, her trumpery, an' her lang tythes o' sheep an' kye, wilddeer, and weathershaker, barndoor an' blackhag fowls? Nought for MinnyChurch an' her bike here, Sir Monk--naething o' our ain breeding--a'comers an' gangers, like John Nisbet's fat sheep. Howsomever, honestbedesman, I speir ye the auld question,
"Come ye as friend, or come ye as fae? For sic as ye bring, sic sal ye hae!"
"As thy friends do we come, uncourteous hind," said the monk; "and askonly a little of thy bread, and thy strong drink, for the refreshment ofour bodies, that are like the grass on the tops of thy mountains, fadingere it be ful
l grown, and require as thou knowest a supply of earthlyrefreshment as these do the showers of heaven; and also we ask of theebeds whereon we may lie down and rest: and these things thou must notrefuse, for we would not that thou shouldst be to us as the children ofAmalek and Moab, and those of Mount Seir."
"Ye speak like a rational man, Sir Monk; but wait till I tell ye thetruth, that I lurde see the cross on the handle of sword or spear onytime afore that hanging at the paunch of priest. There's mair honour an'generosity ahint the tane than the tither. But yet it shall never besaid o' John Robson o' the Trows that he refused a friend quarters on adark night. He kens ower weel that the king may come in the beggar'sway. Gin ye be joking, he can stand a joke wi' ony man; but gin ye bereally gaun to hand him as an Amalekite, he wad like to ken what thatis, an' what lengths ye mean to gang."
"Thinkest thou that we will come into thy house to take of thy spoil fora prey, and thy maid servants for bond-women, and also thy little ones?"said the friar.
"The deil be there then," cried Jock Robson. "I wadna grudge ye meal an'maut, but or ye lay a hand on ane o' my lasses, or kidnap away my bitso' bairnies frae me, ye sal gang ower my breast, an' that wi' a braidarrow through ilk ane o' you. Be at your shift, bauld priest, here's forye."
On saying so, he turned hastily about, and the friar that momentclapping the spurs to his mule, gallopped round the corner, leaving therest to make good their quarters in the best way they could. The mentionof the broad arrow made him think it was high time for him to change hisground.
"There rides gospel, guts an' a'," cried Tam Craik, laughing aloud.
The laugh was well known to Robson; for the warden's troopers had beenso often there that year, that almost all of them were John Robson'spersonal acquaintances.
"What?" cried he, turning back his head, "Isna that the deil's Tam thatI hear?"
"Ay, what for shoudna it, lad? an' how dare ye fright away our chaplainwi' your bows an' your braid arrows? Gin we had Jock's Marion, thesow-killer's wife o' Jeddart, at ye, wha wad be crousest then, trow ye?"
"Tam, it is weel kend your tongue is nae scandal; but dinna ye lippenower muckle to your privilege; gin ye be come to quarter wi' me, dinnalet me hear sic a hard jibe as that the night again. Come away, however,the warden's men are welcome, as weel they may be this year. Mony a fatmart they hae left i' my hire. I hope ye hae brought a bonny kane thenight."
"Ay, by my certie, lad, an' that we hae; here's nae less a kane thanJock's Marion hersel."
"Ye scawed like bog-stalker! skrinkit, skraeshankit skebeld! dare ye tospeak that gate to me at my ain door stane? I shall lend you a clout anye were the king's cousin, an' see if ye dare return the compliment.Wife, bring the buet an' my piked rung here."
"Peace, in the king's name!" cried Charlie Scott.
"And in the name of St David!" cried the friar, returning to the chargeon hearing Charlie's voice.
"And in my name!" cried Tam Craik;" an' Gibby Jordan o' thePeatstacknowe's name; and the name o' Jock's Marion, the sow-sticker'swife o' Jeddart. I say unto thee, look here. Here is the kane willplease a brave yeoman. Look if this be nae Marion hersel"--and with thathe led Delany's palfrey up to the light.
Robson lifted his eyes and saw her, and was so much struck with herdazzling beauty, that he had not power to address even his belovedfriend Charlie Scott, far less any other of his guests, but lifting themaiden down in his arms, he led her in to his dame, and said to one ofhis lads, "Rin out wi' a light, callant, an' help the troopers to put uptheir horses."
The horses were soon put up, for every one seemed more anxious thananother to get first in to the cheek of Jock Robson's ingle, and havehis seat placed next to that of Delany; but the poet being the mostagile, and not the least amorous of the group, effected this greatly tohis satisfaction.