‘We are none of my Lord of Suffolk’s following,’ began Douglas; but Sir Patrick, determined to avoid a breach if possible, said—
‘Sir Marshal, we have as yet heard but one side of the matter. If wrong have been done to these folk, we are ready to offer compensation, but we should hear how it has been—’
‘Am I to see my poor laddie torn to bits, stoned, and hanged by these savage loons,’ cried George, ‘for a goose’s egg and an old gander?’
Of course his defence was incomprehensible to the Flemings, but on their side a man with a bound-up head and another limping were produced, and the head man spoke of more serious damage to others who could not appear, demanding both the aggressors to be dealt with, i.e. to be hanged on the next tree.
‘These men are of mine, Master Marshal,’ said Sir Patrick.
‘My Lord can permit no violence by those under his banner,’ said the Marshal stiffly. ‘I must answer it to him.’
‘Do so then,’ said Sir Patrick. ‘This is a matter for him.’
The Marshal, who had much rather have disposed of the Scottish thieves on his own responsibility, was forced to give way so far as to let the appeal be carried to the Marquis of Suffolk, telling the Flemings, in something as near their language as he could accomplish, that his Lord was sure to see justice done, and that they should follow and make their complaint.
Suffolk sat on his horse, tall, upright, and angry. ‘What is this I hear, Sir Patrick Drummond,’ said he, ‘that your miscreants of wild Scots have been thieving from the peaceful peasant-folk, and then beating them and murdering them? I deemed you were a better man than to stand by such deeds and not give up the fellows to justice.’
‘It were shame to hang a man for one goose,’ said Sir Patrick.