“Here,” said the Earl, aside to him, “into thy faithful hands do I confide this purse; ’tis for the more immediate relief of those poor people. Leave not the town until thou hast inquired into circumstances, and done all thou canst to secure temporary accommodation for those who have been rendered houseless. I shall take care to provide more permanent aid for them anon.”
This order, though given in a half whisper, was caught up by some of those miserables, whose wretched and forlorn state had quickened their ears to every sound which gave them the hope of relief. The news of the Earl’s humane bounty spread among them more rapidly than the fire had done over their possessions and property. Their gratitude burst forth in shouts:
“God bless the noble Earl of Moray!”—“Long live our noble preserver!”—“Heaven reward our kind benefactor!”—“If his brother, the wicked Wolfe of Badenoch, be a destroying devil, surely the good Earl of Moray is a protecting angel!”—“May the best gifts of the Virgin be upon him and his!”
The Earl called for his horse, and mounted amid the cheers of the populace.
“Let all those who lent me their friendly aid on this occasion forthwith follow me to the Castle,” cried he, and, glad to escape from praises which, as they were bestowed on him at the expense of the brother of his Countess, gave him more of pain than pleasure, he turned his horse’s head in the direction of the Castle, and rode off, accompanied by Sir Patrick Hepborne and the rest of the knights who were with him, and followed at a distance by a shouting and ragamuffin rabble, who were eager to moisten their hot and parched throats from the capacious and hospitably-flowing cellars of Tarnawa.
CHAPTER XL.
In the Countess of Moray’s Apartments—Sir Patrick gets Quizzed.
The Earl and his friends had no sooner reached Tarnawa, than they retired, each to his own chamber, to enjoy a few hours’ rest. Sir Patrick Hepborne made inquiry for his page, but the latter [[284]]was nowhere to be found at the time; so, leaving orders that the youth should be in attendance, he gladly committed his wearied limbs to the comforts of his couch.
It was about midday when he raised his head from his pillow, and his first thought was to call for Maurice de Grey; but a lacquey informed him that the youth had not yet appeared. He sent the man for Mortimer Sang, and when the esquire came, he was much disappointed to learn that he had seen or heard nothing of the boy.