“This dismissal of mine is something of the suddenest,” said he, in a general kind of manner, to a few of them who were clustered together. “Can any umbrage have been taken? Is it possible King Robert can mean to steal a march on His Majesty of England, and cross the Border ere he giveth him warning? or hath he already done so with an English envoy in his territories?”
He paused after each of these short interrogatories, as if in the hope of fishing out a reply from some one, which might instruct him in the extent of the information that had come from the Scottish Monarch; but no one exhibited either the will or the power to gratify him, and he adroitly changed to another subject.
“Ha! Sir David Lindsay,” said he, turning round and addressing that knight, “let us not forget to settle the engagement and darreigne that hath passed between us.”
“Nay, trust me, that shall not I,” replied Sir David Lindsay; “I but waited until thou hadst concluded thy weightier and more pressing affairs, to entreat thee that we may enter into our articles of tilting now. I do hope that nothing may arise to baulk us of our sport.”
“What, I beseech thee, can baulk us?” demanded the Lord [[332]]Welles slyly, and probably with the hope that he would yet catch what he had been angling for, by throwing this long line, and drawing it so skilfully round.
“Nay, I know not,” replied Sir David Lindsay readily; “thou mightst have repented thee peraunter, and it would have sorely grieved me hadst thou wished to draw thy head from our agreement.”
“Depardieux, thou needest be in no dread of that, Sir David; I am not a man of that kidney, I promise thee,” hastily replied the Lord Welles, in some degree thrown off his guard by the gentle touch which Lindsay had given to his honour; “for whether it be in war or in peace thou shalt have a safe-conduct from King Richard, if I have the influence that I do believe I have; yea, a safe-conduct for thee and thine, that thou mayest on thy part fulfil thy behote. Let us straightway hasten to arrange and register the terms of our meeting.”
“’Tis well thought of,” said Sir David Lindsay; “let us have a clerk to put our mutual challenge in proper style, and distinct and lasting characters, that, each of us having a copy thereof, neither of us may mistake.”
A scrivener was accordingly sent for, and the council board, again ordained to change the service it was destined to, now became a theatre, where the nicest points of chivalry and the minutest rules of tilting were canvassed at greater length and with more eagerness of debate than had been bestowed on the much more important business which had been previously gone through there. The superfine judgment of Sir Piers Courtenay in such matters was singularly pre-eminent; and his auditors were extremely edified by some long and very learned disquisitions with which he was pleased to favour them. At length everything was happily adjusted to the satisfaction of both parties, and written copies of the terms being signed and exchanged between the two principals in the proposed affair, they cordially shook hands and separated, with many chivalric and courteous speeches to each other.
Things were no sooner settled thus, than several Scottish knights pressed forward to entreat Sir David Lindsay that they might be permitted to bear him company when the time should be finally fixed. The first of these was Sir William de Dalzell, and another was Sir Patrick Hepborne. To these, and to Sir John Halyburton, Sir David Lindsay readily promised that places should be preserved, however limited a number the safe-conduct might be granted for; but he declined further promises until he could be sure of fulfilling them. The Scottish knights, [[333]]who had been all too much interested in what was going forward to permit them to leave the hall until everything was finally adjusted, now hastened to call their esquires, and to make those private preparations for travelling which were not publicly to appear until after the departure of the English envoy and his suite.