“Ha, their backs shall be well paid, I warrant me,” cried Rory, flourishing his gaud-clip around his head, while his eyes sparkled with enthusiasm.
“Nay, fear not,” replied the esquire; “the rogues shall feel the rod, else I am no true man. But St. Andrew be with thee, good Master Rory, I have no further time to bestow.” And as he said so he gave the word to his men to move forward; the bugles sounded, their horses’ heels spurned the ground, and their armour rang as they galloped briskly away, to make up for the time lost in the halt.
The lady and her attendants rode slowly on, but Rory lingered behind, to follow the rapid movement of the warlike files with an anxious eye; and when they wheeled from his view he heaved a sigh so deep that it was heard by the foremost of his own party.
“What aileth thee, Rory?” demanded Adam of Gordon.
“Heard ye not their bugles as they went?” replied Rory to him. “Was not the very routing o’them enew to rouse the [[400]]spirit o’ a dead destrier, and dost thou ask what aileth me? Is’t not hard to be sae near the Yearl and yet to see as little o’ him or his men as gif they war in ane ither warld? is’t not cruel for a man like me to be keepit back frae the wark that best beseemeth him whan his very heart is in’t?”
“And why shouldst thou be kept back from it, Rory, now that thy duty to the lady is performed?” demanded the harper.
“Dost thou no see Kate yonder?” replied Rory sullenly. “What is to be done with the wench, think ye? Sure I maun e’en yede me back again to convoy the puir lassie safely to her mother.”
“If the care of Katherine be all thy difficulty, Rory,” said the lady eagerly, “thou mayest easily provide for her safety by confiding her to me, on whom thy doing so will moreover be conferring an especial gratification. Let her, I pray thee, abide with me at Norham, whilst thou goest to the wars; and when peace, yea, or truce doth happily come again, thou mayest forthwith reclaim her of me. Let me entreat thee, oppose not my wishes.”
Rory’s rough but warm heart had been long ere this entirely gained by the kindness, condescension, and beauty of the English damosel. He could not have refused her request, whatever difficulties it might have involved; but her present proposal was too congenial with his own wishes, and her offer altogether too tempting to be resisted.
“Troth, my leddy,” replied he, with a tear glistening in his eye, “when we first forgathered at Tarnawa, and when the Yearl tell’d me that I was to be buckled till thy tail, I maun e’en confess I was in a sair cross tune at the news, for thou mayest see it’s no i’ my nature to be governed by women-fouk, and gin the truth maun be tell’d, it was wi’ sair ill-wull I cam wi’ thee. But noo, by St. Lowry, I wad follow thee to the very warld’s end; troth, thou mayest e’en whirl me round and round with thy pirlywinky; and so, though I am no just confidently sicker that what I am doing is a’thegither that the which may be approven by my good dame at hame yonder, yet will I yield me to thy wishes and mine ain. Kate shall wi’ thee to Norham, and I’ll just tak a bit stride after the Yearl to see what he and the lave are a-doing.”