A "God be with thee," shall be all thy mass;
Thou never lovedst those dry and droning priests.
Thou'lt rot most cool and quiet in my garden;
Your gay and gilded vault would be costly.
Fazio, a Tragedy.
After an uneasy slumber, in the place where we left him a few pages back, Konrad was awakened by a rough grasp being laid on his shoulder, and a voice crying—
"Harl him forth, till we find what manner of carle he is!" and, ere he was thoroughly roused, several strong hands dragged him to the door of that solitary little chapel, where he found himself in the presence of two knights on horseback, and a band of mailed men-at-arms, bearing hackbuts and partisans, and carrying a banner bearing a blue shield charged with the heart and mullets of Morton.
It was a beautiful spring morning. The sun was rising above the eastern hills, and gilding the peaks of the Pentlands, that towered above the wreaths of gauzy mist rolling round their heath-clad bases.
"Whence comest thou, fellow?" asked the first knight, who was no other than our ferocious acquaintance, Lord Lindesay of the Byres, who, with his men-at-arms, had been scouring the adjacent country for some one upon whom to execute his vengeance.
"Some accomplice and abettor of the Lord Moray!" observed the other; "art and part at least—for all the city saith that he committed the deed; at least, there are those who find their interest in circulating the report most industriously."
"Tush! the Lord Moray abideth at his tower of Donibristle; and I will maintain body to body against any man, that he lieth foully in his throat who accuseth James Stuart of being concerned in the slaughter of last night."
"But, dustifute—knave—speak! whence comest thou?"
"By what right dost thou ask?" said Konrad, starting at the voice of the questioner, who had the policy to keep his visor down, and affected not to recognise his acquaintance of the hostellary.
"What right? false loon! the right of my rank. I am James Earl of Morton; and now that I look on thee, thou tattered villain—by St. Paul! I see the king's cloak on thy shoulders. We all know the Lord Darnley's scarlet mantle, sirs, with its gold embroidery; and doth its splendour not contrast curiously with this foreigner's rags and tatters?"