“But ’tis beyond hope that we should meet in this manner.  My lord hath, doubtless, ere this forgot all that was between us, and hath already seen others fairer and more worthy of his courteous regard than the Lady Sybilla.  This is as well beseems a mighty lord, who taketh up a cup full and setteth it down empty.  But a woman hath naught to do, save only to remember the things that have been, and to think upon them.  Grace be to you, my dear lord.  And so for this time and it may be for ever, fare you well!”

When the Earl had read this letter from the Lady Sybilla, he turned himself in his saddle without delay and said to his hunt-master: 

“Take back the hounds, we will not hunt the stag this day.”

The messenger stood respectfully before him waiting to take back an answer.

“Come you from the town of Edinburgh?” asked the Earl, quickly.

“Nay,” said the youth, “let it please your greatness, I am a servant of my Lord of Crichton, and come from his new castle in the Lothians.”

“Doth the Chancellor abide there at this present?” asked the Earl.

“He came two noons ago with but one attendant, and bade us make ready for a great company who were to arrive there this very day.  Then he gave me these two letters and set my head on the safe delivery of them.”

“Sholto,” cried the young lord, “summon the guard and men-at-arms.  Take all that can be spared from the defence of the castle and make ready to follow me.  I ride immediately to visit the Chancellor of Scotland at his castle in the Lothians.”

It was Sholto’s duty to obey, but his heart sank within him, both at the thought of the Earl thus venturing among his enemies, and also because he must needs leave behind him Maud Lindesay, on whose wilful and wayward beauty his heart was set.

“My lord,” he stammered, “permit me one word.  Were it not better to wait till a following of knights and gentlemen beseeming the Earl of Douglas should be brought together to accompany you on so perilous a journey?”

“Do as I bid you, Sir Captain,” was the Earl’s short rejoinder; “you have my orders.”

“O that the Abbot were here—­” thought Sholto, as he moved heavily to do his master’s will; “he might reason with the Earl with some hope of success.”

On his way to summon the guard Sholto met Maud Lindesay going out to twine gowans with the Maid on the meadows about the Mains of Kelton.  For, as Margaret Douglas complained, “All ours on the isle were trodden down by the men who came to the tourney, and they have not grown up again.”

“Whither away so gloomy, Sir Knight?” cried Maud, all her winsome face alight with pleasure in the bright day, and because of the excellent joy of living.

“On a most gloomy errand, indeed,” said Sholto.  “My lord rides with a small company into the very stronghold of his enemy, and will hear no word from any!”