The latter, who had been made aware of his approach, received him, apparently, with great cordiality.
"I know not how to express the joy I feel in having so brave a gentleman in my house," said he, "but, as a first favour, I must beg of you to lay aside your sword and pistols."
"Wherefore, my lord?" asked Rob, who felt surprised at a request so unusual.
"The duchess is somewhat timid, and the sight of such things always alarms her."
"By my faith, Athole, had she seen her rooftree in flames, and as much of her own blood shed as the goodwife of Inversnaid has seen in her time, the sight of an armed man would not cause uneasiness," replied Rob, with a sigh of anger, as he unbuckled his sword-belt, took the dirk and pistols from his girdle, and said, "but where is your good lady, duke?"
"In the garden, where we shall join her."
"MacAleister, keep my claymore and tacks for me, and await me here," said Rob, handing the weapons to his henchman, through whose mind some vague suspicions floated, as he never once removed his keen glance from the face of the duke, on whom he gazed as if he would have read his soul. But now Rob and his host descended by a flight of steps into the garden of the castle.
The duchess, Katherine, who was a daughter of the Duke of Hamilton, came hurriedly forward to meet the famous outlaw, of whom she had heard so much, and to whom she frankly presented her hand to kiss,—for she was as yet ignorant of the vile plot her husband had framed.
She then presented to him her son, the little Lord Tullybardine, who eight-and-twenty years after was to unfurl the banner of Prince Charles Edward in Glenfinnan; and poor Rob, when he saw the rich dress of the fair-haired boy, thought with a sigh of his own sons, who were at times compelled to share the abode of the fox and the eagle.
"MacGregor," exclaimed the duchess, on seeing him without a sword; "MacGregor here, and unarmed!"