"Done at our castle of Greenwich, the 1st May, 1567."
"God send that glove comes soon!" said Glencairn with stern joy; "my father fell at Pinkie, and my grandsire fell at Flodden, so I have a debt of blood as yet unsettled with those Englishmen."
"Our dearest sister's letter contains a most unsisterly threat," said the Queen with one of her arch smiles; "but this, her reiterated remonstrance, deserves attention. Sir Walter Scott of Branxholme and Buccleuch"——
"I will be his surety, please your grace," said Morton, whose niece Buccleuch had married; "I will be warranty to the amount of ten thousand merks."
"And I for my kinsman Cessford in the same," added Lord Crichton of Sanquhar, a tall and fair-haired peer, wearing a shirt of mail and velvet mantle.
"Ten thousand merks—um—um—that the lairds of Cessford and Buccleuch will underly the law," muttered the secretary, making a minute in his books.
"Poor John of Park! and will no one become surety for thee?" said the Queen.
"Nay, your grace," replied Sir William Maitland; "no one would be so foolhardy with his merks. He is the strongest thief between the Lammermuir and the Rere cross of Stanmore; he never rides abroad with less than four hundred lances in his train, all broken men, and masterful thieves."
"All daredevils!" said the Earl of Moray; "troopers with scarred visages, and hearts as tough and impenetrable as their armour. Ah! Park loves the bright moonlight well."
"So do I," added the Queen, artlessly; "how droll!"