Then a dead silence followed, and not a sound was heard throughout the different bands arrayed on the level waste, but the clank of accoutrements as two Dutch officers, dispatched by the Baron de Ginckel rode up to Langstone and to Lanier, to communicate the orders of their leader, who was rapidly advancing with his strong column of Ruyters, so disposed as completely to cut off all hope of flight in any direction.
In spite of his natural courage, Walter felt his heart now become a prey to intense sadness, if not apprehension. Jaded and wearied by excessive fatigue, his comrades were dispirited and little inclined for new strife, to engage in which, so far from their native land, and when hemmed in by forces so much more numerous, would have been madness. He contemplated with horror being a prisoner to the Dutch or English, to be banished perhaps to the West Indies or some far foreign station, or to endure a protracted captivity, and a shameful death—in either case perhaps never again to behold his Lilian and his loved native land, for to a Scotsman the love of home is a second being—a part of his existence. So much was he occupied with these sad thoughts that he was not aware a flag of truce was approaching, until he saw an English cavalier rein up his horse within a few yards of him. The stranger bowed gracefully, saying,
"Sir Marmaduke Langstone would speak with the Earl of Dunbarton—he is bearer of a message from Goderdt de Ginckel, Earl of Athlone."
"Say forth, Sir Marmaduke," replied the noble Douglas; "if it be such as a Scottish Earl may hear without dishonour. What says Mynheer of Athlone?"
The Englishman laughed and replied,
"He desires me to acquaint your Lordship and those gallant Scots who have so rashly revolted from King William——"
"You mistake, Sir; we never joined the banner of the statholder, and cannot be termed revolters."
"Then ye are rebels by the laws of the land."
"Not of England, as we owe it neither suit nor service."
"Then ye have broken the laws of your own country."