"Would it not be better, Lord Douglas, that the reward were settled before-hand; and, then, I lose or gain at my own risk and peril. If I deliver you no produce, I ask no pay."
"And what is the reward Sir Ringan would ask for such a piece of incalculable service?"
"My choice of seven baronies on the West Border, to divide amongst these gentlemen commoners, to whose support I owe every thing."
"You are a master worth serving, brave Sir Ringan. But such a grant would break my power on the Border for ever."
"It is that your power on the Border may not be broken for ever, Lord Douglas, that I make the proffer. I am safer without the venture. But you are a day's march nearer to the English army,—draw off your men silently before the break of day, and march against it. I shall supply your place at the blockade, to the west of the castle, without loss of time, and answer to you at your return for all ingress or egress that takes place in that division. If Sir Thomas proves hard for you, you have only to keep your men together, and fall back toward the entrenchments. You shall find you have some good back-friends there."
Douglas had determined on no account to let this proffer of the Warden's ingenious head and powerful arm in the taking of the fortress pass without trial; so, without more ado, he called for the friar's tablets, and made out a grant to Sir Ringan, in free present, of the barony and lands of Gilterscleuch, and his choice of seven of the best baronies belonging to the house of Douglas in the districts adjoining to the West Border, in the event of his putting James, Lord of Douglas and Mar, in full possession of the castle of Roxburgh. This grant signed and sealed, the Douglas departed, after pledging the Warden and his friends in a hearty stirrup cup, both chiefs being alike well pleased with the agreement they had entered into. The Douglas posted back to Roxburgh, and reached it just in time to put the western division of his army in motion at break of day; while Sir Ringan made his musters by the light of the moon, and marched off to the siege of Roxburgh.
CHAPTER VII.
Aboon his skins he sat and rockit,
And fiercely up his bonnet cockit;
Then at ha' doors he crousely knockit
Withouten dread,
Till wives and bairns around him flockit,
But now he's dead.
Then he wad claw, and he wad hustle,
Till all the skins played rap and rustle;
While up his thighs, wi' devilish bustle,
Ran mony a ked;
Now they hae lost their eume and gustle,
Sin' Robin's dead.