Poor Lilian trembled and changed colour as she felt alternately fear and indignation at the lure that had been laid for her; but Walter kindled up into a red-hot passion; the Countess became agitated; and the Earl hurriedly buckled on his walking sword, saying,—
"This must be looked to. My fair but thoughtless Laurie, mischief will come of this, Douglas is a brave spark, and somewhat too prompt in the use of his hands; while Clermistonlee is wary as a wolf, and blood will be drawn. Fenton, order the household guard to horse: we will ride round and arrest them, ere worse come of it."
"Yes, yes," exclaimed the little Countess, clasping her white hands; "away, away—but oh, will it not make both your deadly enemies? Heavens! what a land is this for blows and outrage!"
"Fear not, dear Lady Dunbarton," said Annie. "When Douglas left me, he pledged his sacred word of honour not to fight Clermistonlee until I gave permission. That promise ties his sword to its sheath, unless his honour requires it should be drawn, and then ill would it become a Laurie of Maxwelton to fetter the hand of any brave cavalier."
"You are a perfect enchantress, fair Annie," said the Earl, pressing one of her silken ringlets to his lips; "one that can rule our wildest gallants, and bend them to your will like the Urganda of Amadis."
"Nay, my Lord, if you talk much thus, I shall be deemed a witch in earnest. You Lords of Council deem suspicion equal to guilt. Is not the poor creature who is to be burned to-morrow merely suspected of sorcery?"
"On application of the boot, she confessed all the Lord Advocate asked her; but let us not canvass the decrees of the High Court or Privy Council. In these our days, the decisions of such tribunals will not brook much scrutiny. But Clermistonlee shall answer to me for this attempt. S'death! to abduct my guest, and the fairest that ever graced our roof-tree: but say, Madam Lilian, what punishment doth he deserve?"
"Good, my Lord, leave him to the reproaches of his own evil conscience."
"The answer beseems your artless gentleness, fair Napier; but you know not the infamy he intended for you. 'Tis horrid! 'tis damnable."
"And, belted Baron though he be," began Walter, handling his rapier, for his wrath increased while the Earl spoke, "a day shall come——"