“Soh!” continued Archy, taking a long breath—“I have done my lady’s bidding like a true Cumin, and now I must draw to defend mine own head, like a true Grant, for the knaves will be upon me.”
“Thou shalt not long lack help, my brave little fellow!” cried Sir John, and in a moment, a party of armed Grants came crowding out from the gate at the heels of their young chief. And, as Archy’s pursuers came up one by one, they collected into a knot on the top of the heathery hillock, and then filed off without ever daring to come within bowshot of the walls.
“Now, tell me what has befallen the Lady Bigla?” cried Sir John Grant, impatiently addressing the page.
The faithful Archy Abhach gave him a brief outline of all he knew.
“To horse! to horse!” cried Sir John, hardly waiting till he had finished. “Holy St. Mary! she may be lost if we tarry.”
A very few minutes only were expended ere Sir John and his troop were mounted and away. They galloped after the retiring Cumins, but they could see nothing of them anywhere. He had got to the side of the hill of Craig-Bey, and was stretching his eyes in all directions, when the distant clash of conflict came up through the woods that sloped away into the glen to the right. Sir John gave the spur to his horse, and dashed down through the thicket, calling to his men to follow him. In a grassy holm, by the side of a small stream, he found Bigla Cumin surrounded by her faithful but small band of followers, who were bravely defending her against a superior body of assailants. His sudden appearance immediately dispersed her enemies, and, overpowered by the fatigue occasioned by her long wearisome and rapid flight, as well as by the alarm which she had endured, she slipped from her palfrey, and sank exhausted on the ground. Sir John Grant was soon on his knees beside her, to support her weakness, and to calm her agitation. She had owed her escape, in the first place, to the swiftness and endurance of her favourite Arabian blooded palfrey, together with her own wonderful hardihood as a horsewoman, which, much surpassing that of the Lady Juliana Berners herself, had carried her over mountain and moss, through bog and stream, in a manner altogether inconceivable; and, secondly, to the appearance of Sir John Grant, just as she had been attacked by a quickly formed ambush of the retreating Cumins, whose onset had given time to those who pursued her to come up, by which means she and her people being hemmed in on all sides would have been speedily overcome.
Ere the evening closed in, Bigla Cumin found herself safely housed within the walls of Castle Grant; and the very next day the priest’s blessing gave to Sir John Grant her fair hand, and with it her fair lands too.
[1] A dwelling only occupied in summer whilst feeding the cattle on the highest hill-grazings. The same word as the Swiss chalet. [↑]