atural incident, but the having transgressed, and caused such
a serious scrape, made George very indignant and inflict condign
punishment. 'Better fed than he had ever been in his life, the rogue'
(and he looked it, though he muttered, 'A bannock and a sup of barley
brose were worth the haill of their greasy beeves!'). 'Better fed than
ever before. Couldn't the daft loon keep the hands of him off poor
folks' bit goose? In Lent, too!' (by far the gravest part of the
offence).

George did, however, transfer Ringan's explanation to Sir Patrick, and
make some apology. A nest of goose eggs apparently unowned had been too
much for him, incited further by a couple of English horseboys, who were
willing to share goose eggs for supper, and let the Scotsman bear the
wyte of it. The goose had been nearer than expected, and summoned her
kin; the gander had shown fight; the geese had gabbled, the gooseherd
and his kind came to the rescue, the horseboys had made off; Ringan,
impeded by his struggle with the ferocious gander, was caught; and
Geordie had come up just in time to see him pricked with goads and axes
to a tree, where a halter was making ready for him. Of course, without
asking questions, George hurried to save him, pushing his horse among
the angry crew, and striking right and left, and equally of course the
other Scots came to his assistance.

Sir Patrick agreed that he could not have done otherwise, though better
things might have been hoped of Ringan by this time.

'But,' said he, 'there's not an end yet of the coil. Here has my Lord
of Suffolk been speiring after your name and quality, till I told him he
must ask at you and not at me.'

'Tell'd you the dour meddling Englishman my name?' asked George.

'I told him only what ye told me yerself. In that there was no lie.
But bethink you, royal maidens dinna come to speak for lads without a
cause.'

George's colour mounted high in his sunburnt, freckled cheek.

'Kens--ken they, trow ye, Sir Pate?'

'Cannie folk, even lassies, can ken mair than they always tell,' said
the knight of Glenuskie. 'Yonder is my Lord Marquis, as they ca' him; so
bethink you weel how you comport yerself with him, and my counsel is to
tell him the full truth. He is a dour man towards underlings, whom he
views as made not of the same flesh and blood with himself, but he is
the very pink of courtesy to men of his own degree.'

'Set him up,' quoth the heir of the Douglas, with a snort. 'His