"Those shaven monks and cunning clerks who write to James in Greek, Hebrew, and other damnable languages, soon find a key to our ciphers, believe me, Sir James."
"Then something must be done, for we know not what this night may bring forth," said Shaw, refilling his wine cup; "where are Wood's ships now?"
"Hull down, already," replied Borthwick, looking from a window which faced the Firth of Tay, whose blue waters were beginning to redden in the setting sun.
"By my soul! I could have laughed outright at the gravity with which Rothesay acceded to my proposal for the hand of Maggie Drummond," said Gray.
"What if she accept thee?" asked Sir James Shaw.
"Right well knew I there is but slender chance of that; but Borthwick, have you examined all the avenues to this damosel's chamber, so that we may have her by the time Howard returns?"
"By to-night I will have made sure, Sir Patrick; but if Howard is slain or taken by Sir Andrew, what then?"
"We must devise other means," said Shaw, with one of his deep, fierce glances; "by St. Andrew! I would give three of my best tenements in Stirling to have this suspense brought to an end."
"For one of those tenements,—yea, the smallest, Sir James," said Borthwick, "I will write such a letter to Montrose as shall dethrone the king."
"To Montrose——"