“By the rood, but I have!” cried Sir John hurriedly. “You forget the old saying,—Whilst there are leaves in the forest there—a—a—a”——
“Nay,” said Bigla playfully, “do finish your proverb, Sir Knight. Whilst there are leaves in the forest there will be guile in a Cumin. Did your worship mean that as a compliment to me, or do you forget that I, too, am a Cumin?”
“Nay, nay, nay! my dearest Bigla, you are truth itself,” replied Sir John eagerly. “Pardon me, my love, for quoting this old saw; but, seriously, you are too valuable, too tempting a prize to be risked in any hands but—but—but”——
“But yours, as I presume thou wouldst say, good Sir Knight,” replied Bigla, interrupting him in the same playful tone.
“Thou hast said it, angel of my life!” exclaimed Sir John, rapturously kissing her hand. “I can and will resign thee to no one! Thou art my pledged, mine affianced bride!”
“I am, I am, indeed I am,” said Bigla tenderly.
“Then why shouldst thou put our mutual happiness to peril?” cried Sir John. “Why not secure it by flying with me this moment? My horses and people are within a whistle of where we now are, and in half an hour’s riding or so we shall be safe within the walls of Castle Grant.”
“No, no, no!” replied she, “a stolen marriage would neither be for the credit of Sir John Grant nor for that of Bigla Cumin. Besides, I should be but a poor offering at Castle Grant were my broad lands not well buckled to my back.”
“I care not for thy lands,” said Sir John, “’tis thyself I would wed, and not thine estates. And if that be all, let us to horse forthwith. Better for me to secure thy precious self, though with the chance of losing thy lands, than lose thee in trying to save thy lands.”
“’Tis gallantly resolved of thee, Sir John,” said Bigla; “but I cannot allow thy chivalrous ardour to do us both so serious an injury. All I ask of thee, then, is to trust everything to my discretion and resolution, and, depend upon it, thou hast nothing to fear.”