Ruthven recognised the voice as that of Lauder of Ballinshaw.
“A stranger here! a lurking enemy!” exclaimed one of the party, spying Ruthven in the doorway; but instantly Ruthven called out that he was no enemy but a friend to Ballinshaw.
“By St. Bryde! this is the brave lad that defended our Edie when he fell!” cried the man, “Of a surety he is a friend.”
Ruthven, assured of safety, stepped out of the portal, and sheathing his brand, hastened to the old Laird’s side, inquiring what had befallen; but the question had to be thrice repeated ere Lauder seemed to hear and comprehend it, and then he started, and peering down into Ruthven’s face, exclaimed—“Wha is this?”
“The stranger who defended our Edie,” said the retainer who had previously spoken.
“Indeed!” said Ballinshaw, in a vague way, and again directing his eye towards the fading fire. “See yonder what’s befaun. Bluidshed and murder! Ruth and ruin! A’ is lost—the airn kist fu’ o’ merks in the secret closet ahint the spence—the candlesticks and the plate that my great-grandsire brought frae the Low Countries—a’ plundered—a’ gane. But how cam’ you here, lad?”
“Night overtook me on my way, and I sought shelter here, where scant shelter there is,” replied Ruthven.
“We seek refuge, too,” said the retainer; “but if Altoncroft be in pursuit o’ us—”
“Altoncroft!” cried Ruthven. “Is he the ravager?”
“Ay,” returned the man. “His hatred has burnt up Ballinshaw. When we reached hame yesterday, word was heard that our fickle King had appointed Altoncroft’s kinsman Sheriff, in room o’ the just Sir Robert Home; and we heard the news like our death-knell. Dreading the warst, as weel we micht, we prepared the auld house for defence—armed every man and callant—and keepit strict watch. Afore midnicht, Altoncroft cam’ wi’ a’ his power. There was a fierce and deadly struggle; but he brak’ in wi’ his ruthless band, and we were driven out, and the place was fired. The flames lichted our way as we fled.”