"Joy, joy—oh, David, dearest David, thou art still spared to me!"
"Good morrow, fair sir," said Lord Drummond, grimly. "Now what am I to understand by all this?"
"That your lordship—has—has saved me from a cruel death,—from a death the coward hands of Home and Hailes destined for me—for me who never wronged them," said Falconer, with difficulty, and at intervals.
Sybilla wept aloud, and again wrung her pretty hands.
"Hold, little one," said her father; "this noisy exhibition of love and grief but little beseems a noble lady. Though one of King James's new-fangled knights, do you forget that this man is but the son of a merchant skipper?"
Though this was said in a low voice Falconer heard it, and it gave him new energy. Slowly and tremblingly he rose to his feet and said—
"My lord, with your daughter's love and your esteem I could achieve anything—Yea, I could ennoble myself,—yet both were alone sufficient to ennoble any man."
Unsubdued by this compliment, the proud old noble made a gesture of impatience.
"Another lover!" he muttered, stamping his spurred heel on the gravel walk; "was there ever a poor man so pestered by three gadabout daughters? This will be another fellow for us to kill, I suppose."
"Ah, my lord, if you knew how I love her, and how to me her love is a richer and a greater treasure than our good king's favour."