“Nay, by the mass, I’ll not budge,” cried one. “’Tis no concern of mine,” cried another. “Nay, nor of mine,” cried a third. “I do but come here to sell my wares at the tourney,” cried a fourth.
“Depardieux, but every mother’s son of ye shall move,” cried the Earl, indignant at their apathy.
“And who art thou, who dost talk thus high?” gruffly demanded one of the fellows, as he raised a sort of pole-axe in a half-defensive and half-menacing attitude.
“I am John Dunbar, Earl of Moray,” replied the Earl resolutely; “and by St. Andrew, if ye do not every one of you make the best of your way to Forres sans delay, and put forth what strength ye may to stop the brenning of the poor people’s houses and goods, I will order down an armed band from the Castle, who shall consume and burn to tinder every tent, booth, bale, and box, that now cumbereth the meads of St. John. “Will ye on with me now, knaves, or no?”
“Holy Virgin, an thou be’st the good Earl,” cried the fellow, lowering his pole-axe, “I humbly crave thy pardon; verily we are all thine humble slaves. Come, come, my masters, run, I pray ye, ’tis the good Earl John. Fie, fie, let’s on with him, and do his bidding, though we bren for it.”
“Huzza for the good Earl John—huzza! let’s on with the good Earl of Moray,” cried they all.
“Mine honest men,” cried the Earl, “I want not thy services for nought. Trust me, I shall note those who work best, and they shall not go guerdonless; and if ye should all be made as [[277]]dry as cinders, by hard and hot swinking, ye shall be rendered as moist as well-filled sponges, with stout ale, at the Castle, after all is over.”
“Huzza for the good Earl John! huzza for the good Earl of Moray!” shouted the rabble; and he rode off, followed by every man of them, each being well resolved in his own mind to earn his skinful of beer.
As the Earl and Sir Patrick were pushing up towards the ridge along which the town was situated, the shouts of men, and the dismal screams and wailings of women and children, arose from time to time from within it. The good nobleman redoubled his speed as he heard them, and the party soon reached the main street, the scene of confusion, misery, and devastation. The way was choked with useless crowds, who so encumbered those who were disposed to exert themselves, that little effectual opposition could be given to the fury of the fire. Amidst the shrieks and cries which burst forth at intervals from the mob, the Earl’s ears were shocked by the loud curses on the Wolfe of Badenoch that were uttered by the frantic sufferers. But no sooner was he recognized than his arrival was hailed with acclamations of joy and gratitude, which drowned the expression of every other feeling.
“Here comes the good Earl”—“The Virgin be praised—blessed be St. Laurence that the Earl hath come”—“Ay, ay, all will go well now sith he is here”—“Stand aside there—stand aside, and let us hear his commands.”