"Ladies!" said Ravenswood; "and what ladies, pray?"

"What do I ken, your lordship? Looking down at them from the Warden's
Tower, I could but see them glent by wi' their bridles ringing and their
feathers fluttering, like the court of Elfland."

"Well, well, Caleb," replied the Master, "help me on with my cloak, and
hand me my sword-belt. What clatter is that in the courtyard?"

"Just Bucklaw bringing out the horses," said Caleb, after a glance
through the window, "as if there werena men eneugh in the castle, or as
if I couldna serve the turn of ony o' them that are out o' the gate."

"Alas! Caleb, we should want little if your ability were equal to your
will," replied the Master.

"And I hope your lordship disna want that muckle," said Caleb; "for,
considering a' things, I trust we support the credit of the family as
weel as things will permit of,--only Bucklaw is aye sae frank and sae
forward. And there he has brought out your lordship's palfrey, without
the saddle being decored wi' the broidered sumpter-cloth! and I could
have brushed it in a minute."

"It is all very well," said his master, escaping from him and descending
the narrow and steep winding staircase which led to the courtyard.

"It MAY be a' very weel," said Caleb, somewhat peevishly; "but if your
lordship wad tarry a bit, I will tell you what will NOT be very weel."

"And what is that?" said Ravenswood, impatiently, but stopping at the
same time.

"Why, just that ye suld speer ony gentleman hame to dinner; for I canna
mak anither fast on a feast day, as when I cam ower Bucklaw wi' Queen
Margaret; and, to speak truth, if your lordship wad but please to cast
yoursell in the way of dining wi' Lord Bittlebrains, I'se warrand I wad
cast about brawly for the morn; or if, stead o' that, ye wad but dine
wi' them at the change-house, ye might mak your shift for the awing: ye
might say ye had forgot your purse, or that the carline awed ye rent,
and that ye wad allow it in the settlement."

"Or any other lie that cam uppermost, I suppose?" said his master.
"Good-bye, Caleb; I commend your care for the honour of the family."
And, throwing himself on his horse, he followed Bucklaw, who, at the
manifest risk of his neck, had begun to gallop down the steep path which
led from the Tower as soon as he saw Ravenswood have his foot in the
stirrup.

Caleb Balderstone looked anxiously after them, and shook his thin grey
locks: "And I trust they will come to no