"A niece——" a
"His ward and heiress,—a ward of the crown, too."
"Mean ye that moppet the Countess of Yarrow, whose father drew the sword in pure wantonness on the day my husband fell?"
"Yes, Claude Hamilton's sister was an earl's wife."
"Why tell me that? what care I for his niece's coronet? We were belted knights and landed barons ere surnames were known in the North,—yea, a hundred years and more before a Hamilton was heard of. And this niece—what of her?"
"She may marry."
"Well—well."
"And her husband may—though Heaven forfend it—take up the feud."
"Had she a hundred husbands, we'll find cold iron for them all, priest—and in the sword is all my trust."
"Alas, lady! trust alone in God," replied the vicar, shaking his head; "He giveth much, and yet hath nought the less."