As to the Flemish heiress, no representation would induce Lilias to love her. Reject Malcolm for a convent’s sake! It was unpardonable; and as to a bedeswoman, working uncloistered in the streets, Lily viewed that as neither the one thing nor the other, neither religious nor secular; and she was persuaded that a little exertion on the part of the brother, whom she viewed as a paladin, would overcome all coyness on the lady’s part.
Malcolm found it vain to try to show his sister his sense of his own deserts, and equally so to declare that if the maiden should so yield, she would indeed be the Demoiselle de Luxemburg to whom he was pledged, but not the Esclairmonde whom his better part adored. So he let the matter pass by, and both enjoyed their masquing in one another’s company as a holiday such as they could never have again.
They had no serious alarms; the pursuit must have been disconcerted, and the two young scholars were not worth the attention of freebooters. Their winsomeness of manner won them kindness wherever they harboured; and thus, after many days, without molestation they came to the walls of Berwick. And now, while Malcolm thought his difficulties at an end, a horror of bashfulness fell upon Lilias. She had been Clerk Davie merrily enough while there was no one to suspect her, but the transmutation into her proper self filled her with shame.
She hung back, and could be hardly dragged forward to the embattled gateway of the bridge by her brother—who, as the guards, jealously cautious even in this time of peace, called out to him to stand, showed his ring bearing the royal arms, and desired to speak within the captain of the garrison, who was commanding in the name of the Earl of Northumberland, Governor of Berwick and Warden of the Marches, and who had entertained him on his way north, and would have been warned by Patrick of his probable return in this guise.
Instead of the stalwart form of the veteran sub-governor, however, a quick step came hurrying to the gateway, and the light figure of a young knight stood before him, with outstretched hands, crying: ‘Welcome to the good town of Berwick-upon-Tweed, dear comrade!’ And he added in a lower tone: ‘So you have succeeded in your quest—if, as I trow, this fairest of clerks be your lady sister. May I—’
‘Hold!’ softly said Malcolm. ‘She is so shamefast that she cannot brook a word;’ and in fact Lilias had pulled her hood over her face, and shrunk behind him, at the first approach of the young gentleman.
‘We will to my mother,’ said Ralf, aloud. ‘She has always a soft corner in her heart for a young clerk or a wanderer.’
And so saying, without even looking at the disguised figure, he gave the pass-word, and holding Malcolm by the arm, led him, followed by Lilias, through the defences and into the court of the castle, then to a side-door, where, bounding up several steps at once of a stone stair, he opened a sort of anteroom door, and bade the two strangers wait there while he fetched his mother.
‘That is well! Who would have looked to see him here!’ cried Malcolm, joyously. ‘What, you knew him not? It was Ralf Percy, my dear old companion!’
‘Ralf Percy! he that was so bold and daring?’ cried Lilias. ‘Nay, but how can it be, he was as meek and shamefast—’