The Earl turned him about with his usual quick imperiousness.  “Malise,” he cried, “Malise MacKim!”

And again the “word” ran through the castle, escaped the gate, circumnavigated the moat, and ran round the circle of the tents till the shouts of “Malise, Malise,” could have been heard almost at the deserted fords of Lochar, where sundry varlets were watching for a chance to search the deserted pavilions for anything left behind therein by the knights and squires.

Presently there was seen ascending to the moat platform the huge form of the master armourer himself.  He stood waiting his master’s pleasure, with a knife which he had been sharpening in his hand.  It was a curious weapon, long, thin, and narrow in the blade, which was double-edged and ground fine as a razor on both sides.

“Ah, Malise,” said the Earl, “you have not taught your son amiss.  He threatens to turn out a most marvellous lad, for not only can he make weapons, but he can excel the best of my men-at-arms in their use.  Have you any objection that he be attached to my guard?”

The strong man smiled with his usual calm, and kept his humorous grey eyes fixed shrewdly on the Earl.

“Aye,” he said, “it is indeed more fitting that Sholto, my son, should ride behind my Lord of Douglas than stiff old Malise upon his Flanders mare.”

The Earl blushed a little, for he remembered how the armourer had offered to ride behind him after he had shod Black Darnaway at the Carlinwark.  He went on somewhat hastily.

“I have resolved to make your son, Sholto, officer of the castle-guard.  It is perhaps over-responsible a post for so young a man, yet I myself am younger and have heavier burdens to bear.  Also Landless Jock is growing old and stiff, and will not suffer to be spoken to.  For my father’s sake I cannot be severe with him.  He will die in his charge if he will, but on Douglasdale and not at Thrieve.  So now I would have your son do my bidding without question, which is more than his father ever did before him.”

“I can answer for Sholto,” said Malise MacKim.  “He is afraid of nothing save perhaps the strength of his father’s right arm.  He is cool enough in danger.  Nothing daunts him except the flutter of a farthingale.  But then my lord knows well that is a fault most commendable in this castle of Thrieve.  Sholto will be an honest captain of your house-carls, if you see to it that the steward locks up his loaves of sugar and his most toothsome preserves.”

“Faith,” cried the Earl, heartily, “I know not but what I would join Master Sholto in a raid on these dainties myself.”

In this fashion was Sholto MacKim placed in command of the house-guard of the castle of Thrieve.

CHAPTER XV

THE NIGHT ALARM

At parting with his father, the young captain received many wise and grave instructions, all of which he resolved to remember and profit by—­a resolution which he did not fail to keep for full five minutes.