"Place, villains—make way," he exclaimed, with the voice and bearing of one in high authority. "I am George Earl of Dunbarton!"
They fell back awed not less by his demeanour than by the weapons of his followers.
"Chastise these scoundrels, Wemyss," said he to a serjeant who followed him. "Lay on well with your hilts and bandoliers; strike, Halbert Elshender, for it is beneath a gentleman to lay hands on clod-poles such as these."
Thus urged, the soldiers who required little or no incentive to make use of their hands against their southern neighbours, laid on with might and main, and, clearing the house in a twinkling, drove the clamorous host out with his guests; after which they overhauled the premises, and set a few of his best runlets abroach.
"A thousand thanks, my Lord Earl, for this timely rescue," exclaimed Finland. "But for your intervention I must indubitably have hurried some of those rogues into a better world."
"And I had been worried like an otter by a pack of terriers," said Walter; "however, I have had blood for blood."
"The old Moss Trooper's justice, Master Fenton," said Serjeant Wemyss, drinking a flagon of wine. "God bless the good cause, and all true Scottish hearts."
"Here is to thee, Wemyss, my noble Halberdier," said the frank Earl, drinking from the same cup; "and I would to the Powers above, that this night King James had under his standard ten thousand hearts like thine. But time presses—away, lads, to the muster-place, for hark, our drums are beating."
"The générale!" exclaimed Fenton and Finland, as the passing drums rang loudly in the adjacent streets.
"Yes, gentlemen, the crisis has come," said the Earl; "an hour ago, De Schomberg arrived to deprive me of my command."