ault, and not the town's: they
could neither be eat nor drunk in the shape in which he got them."

"I could speak of a brave armour too," said the smith; "but, cogan na
schie! [Peace or war, I care not!] as John Highlandman says--I think the
knight of Kinfauns will do his devoir by the burgh in peace or war; and
it is needless to be reckoning the town's good deeds till we see him
thankless for them."

"So say I," cried our friend Proudfute, from the top of his mare. "We
roystering blades never bear so base a mind as to count for wine and
walnuts with a friend like Sir Patrick Charteris. Nay, trust me, a good
woodsman like Sir Patrick will prize the right of hunting and sporting
over the lands of the burgh as an high privilege, and one which, his
Majesty the King's Grace excepted, is neither granted to lord nor loon
save to our provost alone."

As the bonnet maker spoke, there was heard on the left hand the cry of,
"So so--waw waw--haw," being the shout of a falconer to his hawk.

"Methinks yonder is a fellow using the privilege you mention, who, from
his appearance, is neither king nor provost," said the smith.

"Ay, marry, I see him," said the bonnet maker, who imagined the occasion
presented a prime opportunity to win honour. "Thou and I, jolly smith,
will prick towards him and put him to the question."

"Have with you, then," cried the smith; and his companion spurred his
mare and went off, never doubting that Gow was at his heels.

But Craigdallie caught Henry's horse by the reins. "Stand fast by the
standard," he said; "let us see the luck of our light horseman. If he
procures himself a broken pate he will be quieter for the rest of the
day."

"From what I already see," said the smith, "he may easily come by such
a boon. Yonder fellow, who stops so impudently to look at us, as if he
were engaged in the most lawful sport in the world--I guess him, by his
trotting hobbler, his rusty head piece with the cock's feather, and long
two handed sword, to be the follower of some of the southland lords--men
who live so near the Southron, that the black jack is never off their
backs, and who are as free of their blows as they are light in their
fingers."

Whilst they were thus speculating on the issue of the rencounter the
valiant bonnet maker began to pull up Jezabel, in order that the smith,
who he still concluded was close behind, might overtake him, and either
advance first or at least abreast of himself. But whe