“But, my lord, ’tis a different matter yonder.  The Castle of Edinburgh is a strong place with many courts and doors—­a hostile city round about, not a solitary castle like Crichton.  They may separate you from us, and we may be able neither to save you nor yet to die with you, if the worst comes to the worst.”

“I may inform you as well soon as syne, you waste your breath, Sholto,” said Earl Douglas, “and it ill becomes a young knight, let me tell you, to be so chicken-hearted.  The next time I will leave you at home to hem linen for the bed-sheets.  Malise is a licensed croaker, but I thought better of you, Master Sholto MacKim!”

The captain of the Earl’s guard looked on the ground and his heart was distressed within him.  Yet, in spite of the raillery of the Douglas, he resolved to make one more effort.

“My lord,” he said, “you know not the full hatred of these men against your house.  What other object save the destruction of the Douglas can have drawn together foes so deadly as Crichton and Livingston?  At least, my lord, if you are set on risking your own life, send back one of us with your brother David!”

Then cried out David Douglas, who had joined them during the converse, against so monstrous a proposal.

“I will not go back in any case,” said the lad; “William has the earldom and the titles.  I may at least be allowed part of the fun.  Sholto, if William dies without heirs and I become Earl, my first act will be to hang you on the dule tree with a raven on either side, for a slow-bellied knave and prophet of evil!”

The Earl looked at his brother and seemed to hesitate.

“There is something in what you say, Sholto.”

“My lord, if the blow fall, let not your line be wholly cut off.  I pray you let five good lads ride straight for Douglasdale with David in the midst—­”

“Sholto,” cried the boy, “I will not go back, nor be a palterer, all because you are afraid for your own skin!”

“My place is with my master,” said Sholto, curtly, and the boy looked ashamed for a moment; but he soon recovered himself and returned to the charge.

“Well, then, ’tis because you want to see Maud Lindesay that you are so set on returning.  I saw you kiss Maud’s hand in the dark of the stairs.  Aha!  Master Sholto, what say you now?”

“Hold your tongue, David,” cried his brother; “you might have seen him kiss yet more pleasantly, and yet do no harm.  But, after all, you and I are Douglases and our star is in the zenith.  We will fall together, if fall we must.  Not a word more about it.  David, I will race you to yonder dovecot for a golden lion.”

“Done with you!” cried his brother, joyously, and in an instant spurs were into the flanks of their horses, and the young men flew thundering over the green turf, riding swiftly into the golden haze from which rose ever higher and higher the dark towers of the Castle of Edinburgh.