"An man wore coat of mail who said thus to me," said Sir Richard with a smile, "he'd have my gauntlet at his feet upon the instant."
"Nay, nay, my good sir knight—thou knowest well that I am speaking friendlywise," said Erasmus. "The age of ostentatious chivalry is passing. Anon will come a time when sane deeds and true shall take the place of those of bombast and display. I am speaking from my heart and for thy own good, sir knight. An thou wouldst consent to join me, I should be most happy."
Sir Richard disavowed any intention of leaving Scotland till he had accomplished his self-imposed mission. But he was thankful to have Erasmus for a companion, and continued to ride with him till they came into the town of Kirkintilloch, where they halted together at an inn, supping there and making merry till somewhat later in the evening than Sir Richard had intended to stay. During supper hour they had out their argument upon the subject of the waning of chivalry. That is to say, the scholar argued and Sir Richard listened and denied. After that, to prove to the grave student that chivalry was not in its decline, the young knight had the buxom serving-maid sew him a cord to the patch of saffron velvet, whereupon he fastened it above his eye, vowing that he would not remove it till its fair owner should herself part the string.
About the hour when Sir Richard concluded that he could possibly remain no longer, there was a sharp driving of sleet against the tavern windows. Appreciating that there was danger of missing his way in the darkness and storm, and a warm and comfortable bed appealing more pleasantly to his imagination than a night ride in the cold, he came to the conclusion to make a night of it and remain.
When he came down early the next morning there was a thin scattering of snow on the ground. Upon nearing the tap-room, after instructing the hostler to bring around his horse, he heard the sound of loud talk and laughter. He observed the precaution of peering through a window before venturing inside. He saw, seated about a table therein, a half dozen guards from Castle Yewe.
Without waiting to receive the inn-keeper's reckoning, Sir Richard beat a precipitate retreat toward the stables. Ordering his stallion made ready upon the instant, he tossed the groom a generous handful of coins and made off at a rattling pace through the dull streets of the little town.
He soon drew beyond the limits of Kirkintilloch, and came presently to a road that he fancied would lead him somewhere near to the hut in which he hoped that de Claverlok would be awaiting his coming. His search, however, was unfruitful of result. All day he rode, describing great squares and detours. Upon many occasions he was obliged to plunge swiftly into nearby forests in order to avoid bands of horsemen, which seemed to be scouring the country upon every hand. He dared not stop at another inn, and so took pot-luck in the most remote farm cottages and herders' huts that he could find. The patch upon the young knight's eye proved to be a source of infinite amusement to the pastoral folk with whom he ate and drank.
That night he was forced to seek an asylum within the dismal walls of a monastery, whereupon he became the unwilling recipient of the good prior's gentle harangue upon the wickedness of registering licentious and worldly vows. He charged upon the young knight to seek his Maker's pardon, and remove the yellow patch, the which Sir Richard quietly listened to till his head nodded sleepily above the table. The good father then tendered him his blessing and conducted him to a pallet of straw in one of the unoccupied cells.
He was away at dawn of the next day to resume his wanderings above the moors and downs.
When occupying the hut with de Claverlok he had been so intent upon delivering Henry's warrant to Douglas that he had not troubled himself to register surrounding landmarks. This, coupled with the fact that he was now obliged to keep a sharp lookout for straggling guards and searching parties, rendered his search a most difficult one. Indeed, though much regretting to do so, he was forced at length to abandon it, concluding that the wiser plan would be to strike a straight line in the direction of the Sauchieburn Pass. Upon once reaching there, he felt confident that he could easily retrace his way to the abandoned hut.