Charlie Scott gazed on the scene with horror; every feature of his countenance was changed, and every hair on his great burly head stood on end. He gave a look to heaven, crossed himself, and said a short prayer, if a prayer it may be called that consisted only of four syllables. It consisted merely in the pronunciation of a name, too sacred to be set down in an idle tale; but he pronounced it with an emphasis that made it doubly affecting. The friar, on the contrary, astonished at his own prowess, or rather at that of his mule, beheld the scene with wonder, it is true, but also with a shade of ostentation. "I have overthrown the horse and his rider," said he, "and they are sunk down as a stone into the mighty waters." Corby manifested the fright that he was in, by loud and reiterated snortings; the mule also was astonied, and, that he might witness the horrific scene in more perfection, he kept his tail close to the precipice, and looked back.
"Now, by my honour as a man and a warrior, father," said Charlie, "you are a man amang ten thousand. I never knew of a bedesman who behaved so gallantly, nor have I seen a knight behave better. How durst you close so instantaneously and furiously with both these valiant troopers?"
"Thou hadst better put that question to my mule," said the friar,—"for it is a truth that he hath that in him that is the ruin of many people, viz. obstinacy of heart. When he smelleth the battle he disdaineth all parley or courtesy, as thou beholdest, but rusheth upon his adversary like one of the bulls of Bashan."
At that moment the friar's eye caught a glance of several horsemen close upon them, but as they could only come one man rank, they paused at seeing their enemies in quiet possession of the way, and standing in peaceful colloquy, apparently about something else.
"By the life of Pharaoh," said the friar, gazing all around, "I had forgot the man whom I first engaged and smote as he passed by."
"You will see nae mair o' him, father," said Charlie; "I gae him a deadly wound, but the saddle was locked to the horse, and the man to the saddle, and the furious animal has escaped away to the forest with the dead man on its back."
"Thou art indeed a man of valour," said the friar; "and here will we keep our ground. I will do more in our defence than thou hast yet witnessed; therefore, be not afraid, my son, for that sword of thine is a good sword."
"It is a good sword at a straik," returned Charlie; "but it's no very handy at making a defence. But an I get the first yerk of a chield, I'm no unco feared for his return. However, father, this sword, sic as it is, shall be raised in your defence as lang as my arm can wag it. I like the man that will stand a brush when a pinch comes,—see, thae chaps darena come on us. But, ill luck to the coward! gin they winna come to us, we'll gang to them."
"I will certainly go with thee," said the friar; "but I know the nature of the beast that I bestride, and that it will at the first onset bear me into the thickest of the battle; therefore, be not thou far from me in my need, for, though nothing afraid, yet I know it will carry me into peril. Come, let us go and smite these men with the edge of the sword."
"Gallant friar," said Charlie, "the Thief-road is lang an' narrow, an' there's hardly a bit o't that they can come on us twa in a breast; stand ye still; or be chopping on your way, an' I'll let you see yon lads get a surprise for aince."