"What!" cried Ramsay with the utmost scorn, "do you call him a lord? He is a scullion and a base knave, and I warrant he has rifled his master's corpse. Go, you villain, to the field, search for the body of my cousin, your master, and when you have found it return hither, that I may give him decent burial."
"But his ransom?" said the English.
"Well," answered Ramsay, "I will pay the sum of forty shillings, which is more than he is worth—body, bones, and all."
Not entertaining the slightest suspicion of the trick that was being played at their expense, the English accepted the ransom that was offered, and Ramsay, having once more soundly buffeted his comrade, sent him about his business.
"Get you gone, sirrah!" cried he, pushing him roughly away; and then whispered, "Fly!"
Douglas did not require a second hint.
Now it happened that Eustace the Strong had been quartered in the same place as the Scots; and, knowing well who they were, he was greatly diverted with the scene that was enacted before his eyes; and, when I visited him somewhat later, he talked merrily on the subject.
"What?" asked I; "mean you that the Scot has escaped without paying his ransom?"
"In truth," replied Eustace, "he has escaped, but his ransom has been paid for him, and it amounted to forty shillings; and, certes, Sir Squire, if you would name as moderate a ransom for me, I should not long continue your prisoner; for I have a wife at home who is an Englishwoman, and I would not that she fancied her countrymen had cut me into mincemeat."
"On my faith, Eustace," said I, "I cannot do you the injustice of rating you too low; but I will, at sunrise, name such a ransom as you can easily pay without hurting your fortune, and you can have your liberty to-morrow if you promise to pay the amount to me before Christmas, at Bordeaux."