"James V. was too good a Scotsman to have kept an old soldier, a true and valiant peer like thee, standing in thy seventieth year, like a very foot-page."
"And after a fifty miles ride from the Merse."
"But we have no time for idle compliments," said Arran impatiently; "summon the lords of council, and despatch couriers to every sheriffdom, stewartry, and constabulary; the muster-place is Edmondstone Edge. Dalserfe, my pages and armour!"
With these words Arran abruptly closed the interview.
CHAPTER XLIII.
THE CROSS OF FIRE.
Fast as the fatal symbol flies,
In arms the huts and hamlets rise;
From winding glen, from upland brown,
They pour'd, each hardy tenant, down.
Nor slack'd the messenger his pace;
He show'd the sign, he named the place,
And pressing forward like the wind,
Left clamour and surprise behind.
Lady of the Lake.
On this night the beacons blazed on continent and isle, athwart the whole kingdom,—from the shores of the Atlantic to those of the German Sea. In every city, burgh, hamlet, and castle, cottage, convent, and monastery, the tidings were known within an hour, that the invasion had begun; and by day-dawn THE CROSS OF FIRE had spread from hand to hand, with the summons to the muster-place, and it went from glen to glen with incredible speed, each bearer naming the gathering or rendezvous of his clan, burgh, or sheriffdom, with the place where the array of the kingdom was to meet the Regent Arran.
The Crian Tarigh—the cross of fire, or of shame, for it bore both names; first, from the circumstance of its arms being scathed with fire, and then dipped in the blood of an animal; and second, from the everlasting infamy attending all who disobeyed the bearer—was a terrible Celtic symbol never before used in the lowlands of Scotland; but on this occasion it proved most effectual.
It was usually borne by a messenger on foot. On reaching a hamlet he gave it to the first person he met, and the latter, on hazard of his life, was bound to leave his occupation, be it at home or afield,—a bridal or a burial,—a birth or a deathbed,—a scene of sorrow or a scene of joy,—and to convey it till he met another, to whom he simply mentioned the muster-place. On beholding this terrible cross, every man between the ages of sixteen and sixty, capable of bearing arms, was compelled to appear at the rendezvous in his best harness; and woe to the wretch who failed. The utmost vengeance of fire and sword, as indicated by the three burned and bloody arms of this ancient symbol of our Celtic fathers, fell upon the false and disobedient, the timid and untrue.