"Is the blood of my enemies, and of—my ain bairns!" he added bitterly.
"Your bairns!"
"Two of my sons gave up their lives on yonder field, the English cannon slew them by my side, upon the bridge of Esk; but blessed be God and their leal mother, I have three mair at hame, to handle their swords when the time comes."
"Heaven may requite this devotion, my brave Balmuto, but Mary of Lorraine never can!" replied the queen, with growing emotion.
"Madam, forth, I say, ere the day break, and we hear the English trumpets in the Nether Bow—forth, and fear not," resumed Claude Hamilton; "fear not, though we have lost the battle. I have this sword, which I drew at Flodden, and my father drew at Sark, and which his sire drew at Vernuiel—'tis at your service still, and thus can thirty thousand other Scotsmen say, who like me, are ready to peril all for the child and crown of King James the Fifth!"
"To horse, then," said the queen; and giving her hand to the Earl of Mar, she prepared to leave her favourite little palace, and surveyed the apartment sadly as she withdrew.
Florence turned towards the Countess of Yarrow; but with a cold and stern expression in his eye, Claude Hamilton, quick as thought, anticipated him; and presenting his gauntleted hand to his niece and ward, led her from the apartment to the street; and with a sinking heart the young laird of the ruined tower followed them.
Deeming some explanation necessary, while the queen and her train were mounting, Hamilton turned to him, and said in a low but determined tone,—
"Here ends our temporary peace and truce. You scorned my alliance and every reparation to the dead as well as to the living, at a time when, with a full heart and a purpose leal and true, I proffered it; so think not to win my kinswoman's love, for that can never be the prize of one whose kindred shed her pure and sinless blood so wickedly as Dame Alison did, on that terrible night in the church of Tranent. Enough, sir—we now know each other—adieu!"
Florence, chilled by these stern and unexpected words, turned to Father John, who stood near, regarding them both wistfully; but the old priest shook his head with an air of sadness, and drew back, while Madeline held her veil close to conceal the tears that filled her eyes.