She nodded, and no other word was spoken, as they tore side by side past the rowan trees that showed their red berries, and the clumps of silver birch.
* * * * *
"Hey, but the times are soft as tow on a distaff," said Long John o' the Limp, out upon the parapet that girdled the top of the peel; "I have seen the day when three bands have been in sight i' the same morning coming to our undoing, and the burn running red before noon; ay, and I mind me when Surrey marched up to fight the Scots, wi' glaives and spears bristling like reeds in a mere; but now, men have other ways, and look where these old eyes may—"
The old eyes roving round the horizon of Pet Hill and Autumn Wood suddenly dilated, and Long John o' the Limp grasped the parapet with a giant's grip.
"Horsemen, and riding on the spur!" he cried, "and hey, what is this?—the children flying through the stream—bravely ridden, Flower o' Langley—ho, there! Jock, Halbert, Tam Foster, all o' ye—a raid, a raid—drive in the kye and stir yersels, the reiving loons are upon us!"
Long John descended the stairs at infinite risk of his neck, and reached the ground floor as Jocelyn rode in at the doorway and sprang out of the saddle.
"Armstrong and a couple of score at his back," panted Jocelyn, and, outside at a bound, he stayed Alison, who was on the point of dismounting.
"Nay, Ally," he cried, "you must rouse the countryside and send us help; away up the loan, and you'll be over the brae top before they see you—warn them at the Long House, and they will fire Lattfell beacon, then on to the Charltons and bid them send to the Musgraves—go, go, I hear their gallop now!"
"Ay, go, lassie," said the old moss-trooper, "we'll need all the help we may; let the sick cow bide, Jock, they're welcome to her; and now, within boys, we've saved all we can, and yonder comes Black Wat hissel."