doubtless, on Redcap's
charm to protect him from danger, took it into his sinful head that he
would like May o' Gorranberry for his wife.

And he sent, and took her, as she was walking on the hillside above her
father's house, and brought her to his grim old Castle of Hermitage.

The poor lassie was almost mad with terror, and tore her hair, and cried
continually for her lover, until the cruel man threatened that if she
did not hold her tongue he would send men to burn down Branksome Tower,
and kill all its inmates.

And next morning, because she would not stop weeping, he called his
chief man-at-arms, a brave, fearless fellow called Red Ringan, and told
him to gather a band of spearmen, and ride over the hills to Teviotdale,
and attack the old castle which was the home of the Lords of Buccleuch.

Now it chanced that that very morning, young Buccleuch set out alone to
hunt the roe-buck and the dun deer which roamed in the woods that
surrounded his castle. He had fine sport, and he went on, and on, and
never noticed how far up among the hills he was getting, or how fast the
day was passing, until it began to get dark.

Suddenly he looked up, and, to his astonishment, he saw, riding down the
glen to meet him, a company of spearmen. He thought they were his own
retainers, and walked boldly up to them, and never knew his mistake
until he was seized, and bound hand and foot. They were really Lord
Soulis' men, with Red Ringan at their head, and Red Ringan had thrown a
glamour over his eyes, so that he could not distinguish between friends
and foes. Of course Red Ringan was delighted at this piece of good luck,
and he set the poor young man on a horse, and sent him over the hills to
Hermitage, guarded by a handful of spearmen, while he rode on with the
rest of his troop to Branksome, to see what mischief he could work
there.

Thou canst think with what triumph my Lord Soulis would greet his
prisoner, and with what bitter tears May o' Gorranberry would see him
brought in, for she would know about the dungeon, and shudder to think
what his fate would be.

'Twas said that the cruel lord mocked at young Buccleuch as he rode
under the archway, and cried out to him, as if in jest--

"Thrice welcome, Buccleuch, thrice welcome to my castle. Nathless 'tis
as a wedding guest thou comest. Certs, my bonnie May well deserves such
a gallant groomsman."

Next morning the sun rose blood red, and just as its rays touched the
gray s