Borthwick bit his tongue with anger, for he trembled for himself alone.
"Get thee spies," said Keir; "and let Barton's house, where Rothesay lodges, be watched both day and night. Watch all who come from thence, and from the Laird of Largo."
"But spies must be paid, Sir William, and I am short of money."
"Already!" cried Gray; "curse thee, fellow; dost think we keep a coin house? Short again, after all received from Howard, from Henry VII., and from us?"
"All gone, sirs," he added, doggedly; "patriotism is expensive work."
"Here are eight fleurs-de-lys, and not another coin shalt thou have, were it for thy mass when in articulo mortis. So away to thy task, while we will watch and deliberate."
The worthy functionary of the English faction swept the Laird of Keir's money into the velvet pouch which hung on his right hip beside his poniard, and then quitted the presence of his employers. As he descended the stair of the hostel, a gentleman in black armour touched him roughly on the shoulder. Borthwick grew pale, and clutched the dagger at his girdle; and then perceiving that the iron plates of this personage were somewhat rusty, he said with haughty insolence,—
"Who may you be?"
"Your better man, sirrah—therefore attend."
"What want ye, sir?" he asked, rather abashed by the other's air and determined manner.