e in the
courtyard some fifty or sixty horses were standing, ready saddled, with
bags of fodder thrown over their necks.

Every few minutes a handful of men would ride up in the dusk, and,
leaving their rough mountain ponies outside, would stride into the hall,
and begin to eat as hard as they could, exchanging greetings between the
mouthfuls. These were men from the neighbourhood, my friend informed me,
mostly kinsmen of Buccleuch, and lairds in their own right, who had
ridden to Branksome with their men to start with their chief.

There was Scott of Harden, and Scott of Goldilands, Scott of Commonside,
and Scott of Allanhaugh, and many more whom I do not now remember, and
they drank their ale, and laughed and joked, as if they were riding to a
wedding, instead of on an errand which might cost them their lives.

Buccleuch himself was in the midst of them, booted and spurred, and
presently his eye fell on me.

"Ha! my young cocksparrow," he cried. "Wilt ride with us to greet thy
father, or are thy bones too weary? Small shame 'twould be to thee if
they were."

"Oh, if it please thee, sire, let me ride," I said; "I am not too weary,
if my pony is not," at which reply everyone laughed.

"I hear thy pony can scarce hirple on three legs," answered my lord,
clapping me on my shoulder, "but I like a lad of spirit, and go thou
shalt. Here, Red Rowan, take him up in front of thee, and see that a
horse be led for Kinmont to ride home on."

I was about to protest that I was not a bairn to ride in front of any
man, but Buccleuch turned away as if the matter were settled, and the
big trooper who came up and took me in charge persuaded me to do as I
was bid. "'Tis a dark night, laddie, and we ride fast," he said, "and my
lord would be angered didst thou lose thy way, or fall behind," and
although my pride was nettled at first, I was soon fain to confess that
he was right, for the horses swung out into the wind and rain, and took
to the hills at a steady trot, keeping together in the darkness in a way
that astonished me. Red Rowan had a plaid on his shoulders which he
twisted round me, and which sheltered me a little from the driving rain,
and I think I must have dozed at intervals, for it seemed no time until
we were over the hills, and down at Woodhouselee in Canonbie, where a
great band of men were waiting for us, who had gathered from Liddesdale
and Hermitage Water.

With scarcely a word they joined our ranks, and we rod