Auchcross leaped up and threw open the heavy window.
Through the mist and darkness rang into the cheerful old room the notes of a familiar drinking-song:
. . . "King George, God bless him forever!
And down with the White Cockades!" . . .
The trampling of hoofs, the dull clank of steel, accompanied this chorus, borne on the murky breeze of the night.
"Danforth's cavalry!" cried Boyd and Auchcross.
"What! coming up toward Windlestrae?" exclaimed Lord Geoffry, springing from his seat.
"I fear it—I fear it!" muttered Boyd, leaning out of the casement into the driving mist. The rest hearkened at his back, breathless.
The roystering voices, the thud of hoofs and a single whinny, sounded nearer than before.
Gilbert drew himself quickly inside the room again and pulled Neil and the shutters with him.