"I am one who has a sincere friendship for your lordship, and a regard for the honour of your family," said Borthwick in a whisper; "and I beg to warn you, that by watching well, there may be discovered a certain masked man, wearing a scarlet mantle, who visits your mansion under cloud of night—generally about the hour of ten—and who enters a postern by the way of Fish-street."
The old lord glanced hastily at Home and Hailes, but fortunately they were beyond earshot; so he turned sternly to Borthwick, and said,—
"Fellow, art sure of what thou tellest me?"
"Sure as I have now the honour of addressing you."
"A scarlet mantle, say you;—the Lord Lindesay wears one;—'tis like his insolence. Well, this eavesdropper shall die! But who art thou?"
"A friend and follower of Sir Patrick Gray, who will vouch for my veracity."
"A most worthy recommendation!" said the old lord, ironically; "but I thank you, sir, and will watch, believe me. This muffled man may find it perilous work, and that he had better, as our motto hath it, gang warily, or byde at home. Carnock—Balloch!" he added to the two gentlemen referred to, "come hither."
They cantered up to his side; and with all the ardour of vengeance, Hew Borthwick watched their chief as he repeated the information just received, and no doubt gave them the necessary instructions how to waylay and discover this unknown interloper.
"So much for thee and thy blow," said he, with one of his hyæna laughs; "and this for thy simple father."
For a moment he contemplated his letter, which was written on the coarse grey paper then coming into use, folded square, pierced at the corners with blue ribbons, which were tied saltirewise, and sealed with purple wax like a royal letter,—sealed, moreover, by the king's own private signet, which Borthwick applied to this most infamous use.