"Now, Charlie," said he to me at parting, "Mind what the Nevilles hae done baith to you and me, and neither leave them cow nor ewe, man, woman, nor bairn, blanket nor sheet, dish nor spoon."
Aweel, aff Habby and I set; he wi' his Elliots, and me wi' my hard-headed Olivers, my grimy Potts, my skrae-shankit Laidlaws, and auld Will Nicol,—that was my army, and a gay queer ane it was: I hadna a man o' my ain name but mysel; for the warden kept them a' about him: He wadna part wi' the Scotts at no rate. It was clear moonlight, sae we set off before sun-set and rade a' the night, keeping aye the height between Tyne and Reid; and at daylight we fand oursels at the place where the twa Tynes meet. We were terrified for raising the country, and were obliged to ride out to a little hollow place in a wild moor, and hide oursels a' the day, where our horses got nothing but a rive o' heather, but they had plenty o' water, puir things! Habby kept watch himsel, and let us a' sleep; and there was ae camstary English chap that wad be up to the tap o' the hill reason or nane, Habby chappit aff his head—he wasna very sticking that way.
The next morning after that, we gae the castle o' Ravensworth and the rich domains o' the Nevilles an unco surprise. Habby gaed up by himsel to the gate, and asked a word o' the porter. The man came snooving out half sleeping. Habby had him dead, and the keys in his ain hand, in half a minute. It was a shamefu' morning that; for we killed, and harried, and burnt a' that came afore us; and Lady Ravensworth was burnt, and her bairn was trowed to be burnt. That sat sair on my conscience, for she came to me and beggit her life. I had nae thought o' taking her life; but I was sae intent on the spulzie, that I lost her again, and never saw mair o' her. It was rather cruel o' Habby to lock every door when he set fire to the castle. I saved ae little chap that morning, though I wasna muckle the better. We were flinging blankets, and sheets, and thousands o' things out at a large window, when I hears a bairnie greeting most bitterlie, and aye crying out, "Daddy, daddy! O daddy, daddy!" "Poor little English brat," says I to mysel, "there's nae daddy near you." Sae I could nae help rinning into the room to see what kind o' creature it was; and there lay a fine bonnie callant on the bare bed-strae, for they had pu'ed the down bed, and blankets, and sheets, and a' off him; and when he saw me, he held out baith his hands, and cried, "O daddy, daddy!" I could nae think to leave him to be burnt, sae I rowed him in some blankets and tossed him out at the window; and when I lookit out after him to see if he wasna killed, I heard him crying louder than ever, "Daddy's boy fa'en! Take ye up, take ye up! O daddy, daddy! take ye up, take ye up!"
When we came to pack up our goods he was still lying sprawling amang the blankets, and insisting on his daddy taking him up as fervently as before. I was wae for the poor thing, and didna ken what to do, for I didna like to be nursing a bairn afore my new warriors. But as luck wad hae had it, up comes Will Laidlaw o' Craik. Will cared nae what ony body thought.
"What, lad?" says he to the boy: "What's the matter, billy? What are ye lying yammering there for? Eh?"
"Daddy's good boy fa'en," says the child; "O take ye up! take ye up!"
"Poor deevil!" says Will, wi' his muckle een wauling till they were like to come out; "Poor deevil! Indeed and I will take ye up, though I should get nae mair o' the spoil for my share but yoursel."
Will fauldit a blankit, and rowed the callant carefully up in't like a web. He didna come weel behand at rowing up a bairn; but he did as he could, and had the sense to leave the head out, which was a main concern. Just at that very moment, when Will was at the thrangest, by comes ane o' the Olivers in a great haste wi' his sword drawn, and it was a' bloody. Now, thinks I to mysel', the puir bairn's gane; for I saw what kind o' chap he was that Oliver. Will unluckily had the boy's head out o' the blanket, and was busy speaking to him without regarding ony thing else; and ere ever he was aware Oliver heaved his bloody sword, and was just coming down wi' a swap on the boy's neck, and he wad hae cuttit it through like a kail castock. Will's e'e caught a glimpse o' the sword as it was coming down, and with a dash of his elbow he drove it aside. "Eh? What are ye about, min?" said Will, speaking over his shoulder, and keeping his body between Oliver's sword and the child.
"Ooh? What are ye about min?" returned the other, mimicking Will's voice and manner: "Hae ye nought ado but to work on a dirty English paddock like that? Cut the neck o't."
"Will I, min?" says Laidlaw: "I'll see you d—d first, and a' the Olivers atween Jed head and Tyot stane—humph? A bonnie trick to come and meddle wi' me and my bit bairn!"