"Art sure of this, sirrah?" asked Lord Home, with a terrible frown.
"Sure as I now address your lordship—for I read word for word as it is written."
"At six in the evening?"
"Six, my lord."
"God's death!" said Hailes, with ferocious joy, "if this meeting take place, I would not wed the Lord Drummond's daughter had she the crown of Scotland on her head."
"Nor I her sister, with Brittany and Orkney to boot."
"What then shall we do?"
"Send their letter to its destination, my lords," said Borthwick, who ever loved to ferment and further mischief; "permit the ladies quietly to ride forth, but attend the tryst, too—and let them find their lovers there, but less their heads."
"It shall be so; we'll beset the place, Hailes, and cut them into gobbets, by my father's soul we will?"
"But Loretto is a holy place."