“He’s a worthy man Sir Robert,” said Willie. “Ever since he cam’ into power in this shire, he has done his best to mak’ the law respected.”
“Law respected! whew!” exclaimed Edie, with a scoffing whistle. “Baith Lairds swithered about coming to blows, and agreed to mak’ the Shirra their arbiter, and to gi’e leal and true obedience to his award. They are to meet him on the disputed ground this day at noon-tide: and I ha’e been gaun the rounds, warning men that can mak’ aith in Ballinshaw’s favour to attend at the place and hour appointed, and bear soothfast testimony, as I am to do mysel’. Will you gang ower the way? I’ll be glad to toom a tankard wi’ you after the sport.”
“Whaur’s the ground?”
“The meeting is to be at the Deadman’s Holm—ten lang mile awa.”
“I ken the place weel,” said the gaberlunzie, “and I’m a-mind to gang, just as I gang to a’ gatherings whaur there’s chance o’ bountith and gude cheer.”
“See that you keep tryst, Willie,” responded the gentle Johnston. “Now lads,” he cried, “the day is advancing, and we maun mak’ speed. We ha’e mair witnesses to warn.”
Instantly he and his band shook their bridles, spurred their horses, and clattered at the gallop through the village. The gaberlunzie came in from the door, and he and Ruthven proceeded to finish their morning meal.
“Yon’s a dare-deevil.” said Willie. “He wad as soon drive cauld, cauld steel through a man’s brisket as I cut up this black pudding”: and then, in answer to Ruthven’s anxious enquiry, the wanderer related what he knew of the gentle Johnston’s history: “Edie canna be muckle blamed; for, like mony anither Border lad, he was brocht up to rough living frae his young years—his faither being a famous reiver and lifter till he met his death in a fray with the Warden’s men. Edie was but a stripling when he was cuisten upon the world. For some time he lived by his ain hand, like his forbears, but syne took service as a common jackman, whiles on this side o’ the Border, whiles on the ither—Edie caring only for the side that brocht him the best pay. Mair nor ance he has rubbit shouthers wi’ the gallows, whilk, I fear, will be his end.”
The gaberlunzie then began to suggest that our adventurer might accompany him to the Deadman’s Holm to witness the proceedings of the arbitration. After some dubiety, the youth, who had decided as yet on no special destination, gave his consent, but deemed it absolutely necessary that, in going to the meeting, he should adopt a disguise to baffle recognition, and accordingly he requested his host to procure a humble garb for him. What he wanted was obtained for a small sum of money, and he donned a common dress, which was likely to suit his purpose. Retaining only his sword and dagger, he left his cast attire, with his hunting horn and spear, to be kept by the old villager until reclaimed.
Everything being satisfactorily arranged, Ruthven and the wanderer bade good-day to their host, who, being liberally rewarded for his hospitality, stuffed Willie’s wallet with what victuals would suffice for the day; and the strangely-assorted companions set forth.