She shuddered and, in rising, threw an arm over his shoulder, as though she had been his sweetheart and were fleeching with him.
For a moment I saw Wat Gordon waver. Then he took her hand gently and drew it down from his shoulder.
"Mother, for you I would do all, save set a stain upon my honour. But this thing I cannot, for I have plighted my word deep and fast, and go I must to-night."
"Tell me," said my aunt, "is it a matter of treason to the King?"
Her eyes were eager, expectant. And for very pity of her I hoped that Walter could give her satisfaction on the point. But it was not as I thought, for who can track a woman's heart?
"God forbid," said Wat Gordon heartily, as one that is most mightily relieved.
But his mother fell back and her hands dropped to her side.
"Then," she said, "it is my Lady Wellwood!—I had rather a thousand times it had been treason and rebellion—aye, though it had set your head on high beside your father's."
"Lady Wellwood or another!" cried Wat, "nor heaven nor hell shall gar me break my tryst this nicht!"
And without another word Walter Gordon went down the stairs as one that runs defiantly to death, daring both God and man—and, alas! the mother also that bore him.