le this conversation between Lady Murray and her daughter took place,
Sir Gideon entered the room where his prisoners were confined, and,
addressing the young laird, said--"Now, ye rank marauder, though death
is the very least that ye deserve or can expect from my hands, yet I
will gie ye a chance for your life, and ye shall choose between a wife
and the wuddy. To-morrow morning, ye shall either marry my daughter Meg,
or swing from the branch o' the nearest tree, and the bauldest Scott
upon the Borders shanna tak ye down, until ye drop away, bone by bone,
a fleshless skeleton."

"Good save us! most honourable and good Sir Gideon!" suddenly
interrupted Simon, in a tone which bespoke his horror; "but ye certainly
dinna intend to make an anatomy o' me too; or surely, when my honoured
maister marries Miss Murray (as I hope and trust he will), ye will
alloo me to dance at their wedding, instead o' dancing in the air, and
keeping time to the music o' the soughing wind. And, O maister! for
my sake, for your ain sake, and especially out o' regard to my sma'
and helpless family, consent to marry the lassie, though she isna
extraordinar' weel-faured; for I am sure that, rather than die a dog's
death, swinging from a tree, I would marry twenty wives, though they
were a' as auld as the hills, as ugly as a starless midnicht, and had
tongues like trumpets."

"Peace, Simon!" cried the young laird, impatiently; "if ye hae turned
coward, keep the sound o' yer fears within yer ain teeth. And ye, Sir
Gideon," added he, turning towards the old knight, "in your amazing
mercy and generosity, would spare my life, upon condition that I should
marry your _bonny_ daughter Meg! Look ye, sir--I am Scott o' Harden, and
ye are Murray o' Elibank; there is no love lost between us; chance has
placed my life in your hands--take it, for I wouldna marry your daughter
though ye should gie me life, and a' the lands o' Elibank into the
bargain. I fear as little to meet death as I do to tell you to your
teeth that, had ye fallen into my hands, I would have hung ye wi' as
little ceremony as I would bring a whip across the back o' a disobedient
hound. Therefore, ye are welcome to do the same by me. Ye have taken
what ye thought to be a sure mode o' getting a husband for ane o' your
_winsome_ daughters; but, in the present instance, it has proved a wrong
one, auld man. Do your worst, and there will be Scotts enow left to
revenge the death o' the laird o' Harden