rder, the goat's whey will make the blood spring to her cheek again,
which these alarms have banished and even the Fair Maiden of Perth may
sleep soft enough on a bed of Highland breckan."

"It is not from such idle respects, my lord, that I hesitate," said the
glover. "Catharine is the daughter of a plain burgher, and knows not
nicety of food or lodging. But the son of MacIan hath been for many
years a guest in my house, and I am obliged to say that I have observed
him looking at my daughter, who is as good as a betrothed bride, in a
manner that, though I cared not for it in this lodging in Curfew Street,
would give me some fear of consequences in a Highland glen, where I have
no friend and Conachar many."

The knightly provost replied by a long whistle. "Whew! whew! Nay, in
that case, I advise thee to send her to the nunnery at Elcho, where the
abbess, if I forget not, is some relation of yours. Indeed, she said so
herself, adding, that she loved her kinswoman well, together with all
that belongs to thee, Simon."

"Truly, my lord, I do believe that the abbess hath so much regard for
me, that she would willingly receive the trust of my daughter, and
my whole goods and gear, into her sisterhood. Marry, her affection is
something of a tenacious character, and would be loth to unloose its
hold, either upon the wench or her tocher."

"Whew--whew!" again whistled the Knight of Kinfauns; "by the Thane's
Cross, man, but this is an ill favoured pirn to wind: Yet it shall never
be said the fairest maid in the Fair City was cooped up in a convent,
like a kain hen in a cavey, and she about to be married to the bold
burgess Henry Wynd. That tale shall not be told while I wear belt and
spurs, and am called Provost of Perth."

"But what remede, my lord?" asked the glover.

"We must all take our share of the risk. Come, get you and your daughter
presently to horse. You shall ride with me, and we'll see who dare
gloom at you. The summons is not yet served on thee, and if they send
an apparitor to Kinfauns without a warrant under the King's own hand,
I make mine avow, by the Red Rover's soul! that he shall eat his
writ, both wax and wether skin. To horse--to horse! and," addressing
Catharine, as she entered at the moment, "you too, my pretty maid--

"To horse, and fear not for your quarters; They thrive in law that trust
in Charters."

In a minute or two the father and daughter were on horseback, both
keeping an arrow's flight