"Under favor, Sir Marmaduke! We hold our commissions from the Scottish Parliament, from whom we have received no orders, since we marched south among you here; and you sadly mistake in naming those rebels, who still wear the king's uniform."
"My Lord," rejoined the English knight haughtily, "I have no time to argue these niceties with you. De Ginckel desires me to inform you, that he will grant such terms as might be expected by any other foreign foe who hath marched on English ground, with drums beating and standards displayed—and these are, life and kindness, on an unconditional surrender of arms and all martial insignia, yielding yourselves prisoners at discretion."
The swarthy cheek of the Earl grew gradually crimson with passion as Langstone spoke; but an expression of shame and mortification succeeded.
"Alas, alas!" said he, looking sadly on the silk standards that rustled in the evening wind. "Are those old banners that were wrought for us by the noble demoiselles of Versailles to be thus dishonoured at last? Often have they been pierced by the bullets, but never sullied by the touch of a foe!"
"We will yield to our ain kindly folk," cried Sergeant Wemyss and several soldiers; "we will yield us to Major Maitland and the Scots Guards."
"You must surrender to the Swart Ruyters alone, my brave hearts!" cried Langstone.
"And what if we do not?" asked Dunbarton.
"Good my Lord, the consequences will be frightful—unconditional surrender, or utter extermination, Dutch terms. On every hand you are hemmed in, and every road to your native land is blocked up by enemies. My noble Lord," and here with generous confidence the brave Englishman rode close to the levelled pikes, "be advised by one who wishes well to Scot as to Southern. If one cannot fight prudently to-day, better be fighting a year hence, than have the sod growing green over us. Shall I ride back to the Baron, and promise your surrender?"
"Be it so; but deeply do I grieve that Sir Marmaduke Langstone, whose family has ever been distinguished for valour and loyalty, is the propounder of such bitter terms to George of Dunbarton."
"The times are changed, my Lord; live and let live is my motto; had such been the maxim of James II., this sword, which my father drew for his at Marston, had not this day been drawn against him. Liberty of conscience is dear to us all, and I respect the high principles of those soldiers who rushed to the standard of our deliverer."