erance quick and hoarse, "we go into the house
of our enemies. Thirty knights and no more accompany my lord, who
might have ridden out with three thousand in his train."

"'Tis all that witch woman," cried the girl; "can you not advise him?"

"The Earl of Douglas did not ask my advice," said Sholto, a little
dryly, being eager to turn the conversation upon his own matters and
to his own advantage. "And, moreover, if he rides into danger for the
sake of love--why, I for one think the more of him for it."

"But for such a creature," objected Maud Lindesay. "For any true maid
it were most right and proper! Where is there a noble lady in Scotland
who would not have been proud to listen to him? But he must needs run
after this mongrel French woman!"

"Even Mistress Maud Lindesay would accept him, would she?" said
Sholto, somewhat bitterly, releasing her a little.

"Maud Lindesay is no great lady, only the daughter of a poor baron of
the North, and much bound to my Lord Douglas by gratitude for that
which he hath done for her family. As you right well know, Maud
Lindesay is little better than a tiremaiden in the house of my lord."

"Nay," said Sholto, "I crave your pardon. I meant it not. I am hasty
of words, and the time is short. Will you pardon me and bid me
farewell, for the horses are being led from stall, and I cannot keep
my lord waiting?"

"You are glad to go," she said reproachfully; "you will forget us whom
you leave behind you here. Indeed, you care not even now, so that you
are free to wander over the world and taste new pleasures. That is to
be a man, indeed. Would that I had been born one!"

"Nay, Maud," said Sholto, trying to draw the girl again near him,
because she kept him at arm's length by the unyielding strength of her
wrist, "none shall ever come near my heart save Maud Lindesay alone! I
would that I could ride away as sure of you as you are of Sholto
MacKim!"

"Indeed," cried the girl, with some show of returning spirit, "to that
you have no claim. Never have I said that I loved you, nor indeed that
I thought about you at all."

"It is true," answered Sholto, "and yet--I think you will remember me
when the lamps are blown out. God speed, belovedst, I hear the trumpet
blow, and the horses trampling."

For out on the green before the castle the Earl's guard was mustering,
and Fergus MacCulloch, the Earl's trumpeter, blew an impatient blast.
It seemed to speak to this effect:

_"Hasten y