"Only to hear what he thinks o' the journey," was repeated on all sides.
"Gentlemen," said Gibby, "the hale affair brings me a-mind of a story that I hae heard about a wife that had a batch o' chickens. But then, ye maun mind, gentlemen, she had a very great deal o' chickens, I daresay nae fewer than a hunner, for she had sax great cleckings; an' she was unco feared that the gled wad tak them away; sae she wales out a wheen o' the fattest an' the best, an' she sends them out to the cock, that he might herd an' tak care o' them. 'The cock will fleg away the gleds,' quo she, 'an' gar them keep their distance, an' I'll get my braw birds a' saved.' But by comes the greedy gled; an' when the cock saw him he croups an' he currs; an' blithe to keep his ain skin hale, he staps his head in a hole, an' the gled carried off the hale o' his bit charge. Weel, the gled, he fand them sae fat an' sae gusty, that he never linned till he had taen away every chicken that the wife had."
"Where is the moral of that story, laird?" cried they: "We see no coincidence."
"Because ye're blind," said Jordan: "Dinna ye see that Michael's the cock, the deil's the gled, an' ye're the birds. He'll get us first; an' he'll find out that we're sic a wheen rare chaps, that he'll never blin' till he hae ye ilk ane, an' that will be the end o' your daft embassy."
All the rest of the nominated members being sent for expressly from their different posts, they soon arrived, but they seemed every one to be averse to the mission, except Colley the minstrel, who was elevated with the idea of being introduced to the celebrated Master, anticipating something highly romantic, and precisely in his own way. As for Thomas Craik, better known by the singular appellation of the Deil's Tam, he cared not much about any thing, provided he got plenty of drink, mischief, and breaking of heads.
They got all that day to prepare themselves, while Sir Ringan and his friends were considering what they should send as a present to the illustrious necromancer. They weened he despised riches, believing that he could turn small slates to gold by touching them; and, after much consultation, it was resolved to send him a captive maiden and boy, as they had two in the camp, of exquisite loveliness. The maid was the reputed daughter of Sir Anthony Hall, an inveterate enemy to the baron of Mountcomyn, who had burned his castles and plundered his lands; but the warden at length engaging with him hand to hand at the battle of Blaikhope, slew him, and having discomfited his army, he plundered and harried all that pertained to him, at which time he took this beautiful maiden prisoner, whom he treated kindly, and kept as an handmaiden. Her name was Delany; and so lovely was she become in person, and so amiable in her manners, that several of the knight's kinsmen had asked her in marriage. These applications he had uniformly put off, on pretence of his friends degrading themselves by marrying a captive Englishwoman, a term that never sounded in a Scot's ear but with disgust. But, in fact, the warden did not choose that any of them should be so closely connected with an old respectable Northumberland family.
The boy was called Elias, and was the property of Jock o' Gilmanscleuch, having been taken by him in a night foray at Rothbury. When the warden applied to Jock for him, bidding him name his ransom, he answered, that if he wist "Michael wad either mak a warlock o' him, or tak out his harigalds to be a sacrifice to the deil, he wadna gie him up for a' the lands o' Newburgh an' Birkendely." Being pacified on these points as well as matters would bear, the two captives were dressed in elegant robes, and delivered to the embassy; Charlie was deputed their captain and leader; the rest were all to be equals, on the same footing, and to choose their own speakers.
After getting every direction regarding the purport of their mission, the caution and respect which they were to use toward the Master, and the questions they were to get answered, they departed; every one well mounted on an English horse, the friar on his own substantial mule, and such provision with them as they judged necessary. Carol, the bard, had a lyre and a flute. Gibby Jordan, ycleped of the Peatstacknowe, had nothing beside a rusty sword; the friar had an immense wallet below him, judged to be all implements of enchantment; the others had deer or goatskin wallets, stuffed with such things as they deemed necessary; and all of them wore arms, in case of meeting with any unknown interruption. Several of the gallant kinsmen shed tears on taking leave of Delany; who, contrary to what they all expected, seemed full of gaiety, and rather fond of the change than disheartened at it.
Well, away they rode; and, as soon as they were fairly out of sight of the army, every one began to attach himself to Delany more closely than his neighbour. The friar talked to her of penances, and the sins of youth, and the unlimited confidence due to the professors of religion. The bard chanted his wildest and most amorous ditties. Tam punned and quibbled on the words of the rest; and Gibby continued to narrate his long-winded parables, sometimes to one, sometimes to another, as he found them disposed to listen, and sometimes to none at all. As for Charlie, he contented himself with laughing at them all alternately, and occasionally exchanging a word or sentiment with a valued friend of his.
"Corby, what's a' this cocking o' your lugs, an' casting up o' your head for, lad? Ye're gaun the wrang road for a battle e'en now. An let you but see the sword an' pree the spur, ye dog, ye wad carry your master to the deil: an' troth, for ought he kens, ye may be carrying him born-head to his honour just now, ye unconscionable tike that ye are."