“How could she be lost in this country of Galloway?” he said, “a land where there are naught but Douglases and men bound body and soul to the Douglas, from Solway even to the Back Shore o’ Leswalt?  ’Tis just no possible—­I’ll wager that it is that Hieland gipsy Mistress Lindesay that has some love ploy on hand, and has gane aff and aiblins ta’en the lass wi’ her for company.”

At these words Sholto twisted about in his saddle, as if a wasp had stung him suddenly.

“Master Semple,” he said, “I would have you speak more carefully.  Mistress Lindesay is a baron’s daughter and has no love ploys, as you are pleased to call them.”

The two burgesses shook with jolly significant laughter, which angered Sholto exceedingly.

“Your mirth, sirs, I take leave to tell you, is most mightily ill timed,” he said, “and I shall consider myself well rid of your company.”

He was riding away when his uncle set his hand upon the bridle of Sholto’s jennet.

“Bide ye, wild laddie,” he said, “there is nae service in gaun aff like a fuff o’ tow.  My freend here meaned to speak nae ill o’ the lass.  But at least I ken o’ ae love ploy that Mistress Lindesay is engaged in, or your birses wadna be so ready to stand on end, my bonny man.  But guid luck to ye.  Ye hae the mair chance o’ finding the flown birdies, that ye maybes think mair o’ the bonny norland quey than ye think o’ the bit Gallowa’ calf.  But God speed ye, I say, for gin ye bringna back the wee lass that’s heir to the braid lands o’ Thrieve, it’s an ill chance Ninian Halliburton has ever to fill his loof wi’ the bonny gowden ‘angels’ that (next to high heeven) are a man’s best freends in an evil and adulterous generation.”

CHAPTER XL

THE MISSION OF JAMES THE GROSS

From all sides the Douglases were marching upon Edinburgh.  After the murder of the young lords the city gates had been closed by order of the Chancellor.  The castle was put into a thorough state of defence.  The camp of the Avondale Douglases, William and James, was already on the Boroughmuir, and the affrighted citizens looked in terror upon the thickening banners with the bloody Douglas heart upon them, and upon the array of stalwart and determined men of the south.  Curses both loud and deep were hurled from the besiegers’ lines at every head seen above the walls, together with promises to burn Edinburgh, castle and burgh alike, and to slocken the ashes with the blood of every living thing within, all for the cause of the Black Dinner and the Bull’s Head set before the brothers of Douglas.

But at midnoon of a glorious day in the late September, a man rode out from the west port of the city, a fat man flaccid of body, pale and tallowy of complexion.  A couple of serving-men went behind him, with the Douglas arms broidered on their coats.  They looked no little terrified, and shook upon their horses, as indeed well they might.  This little cavalcade rode directly out of the city gates towards the pavilion of the young Douglases of Avondale.  As they went two running footmen kept them company, one on either side of their leader, and as that unwieldy horseman swayed this way and that in the saddle, first one and then the other applied with his open palm the force requisite to keep the rider erect upon his horse.