“And when did Sir Miers tell thee this?” demanded the man.
“Sir Miers!” replied Mrs. Kyle; “laucker-daisey, did I tell thee that it was Sir Miers? St. Mary, I had nae will tae hae done that. Hoot, toot, my lips hae no been half glued.”
“And so thou dost say that Sir Miers is to surround the house to-night, and to take these same strangers?” observed the man.
“Yea, but of a truth I shouldna hae tell’d thee a’ that; may my tongue be blistered for’t,” replied Mrs. Kyle; “for he bid me take especial care, aboon a’ things, to let thee know nought on’t.”
“Nay, Mrs. Kyle,” said the man, “but thou knowest thou dost love me over much to hide anything from me.”
“O ay, for a matter o’ that. I do love thee well enow,” replied Mrs. Kyle; “but Sir Miers hath such pleasant ways with him.”
“Hath he?” replied the man carelessly. “Thou didst say, I think, that the attempt is to be made at midnight, and that thou art to be on the watch to let them in?”
“Nay, then,” said Mrs. Kyle, “I did verily say no sike thing, I wot. What I did say was this, that Sir Miers is to be here an hour after midnight, and that John Hosteler is to let them in.”
“Ay, ay, I see I did mistake thy words,” replied the man. “Why, holy St. Cuthbert, thou wilt get a power of money for thine information.”
“So Sir Miers hath promised me,” replied Mrs. Kyle; “but what doth chiefly season the matter to my stomach is the spicy revenge I shall hae against that flouting knave Sang, and the very thought o’ this doth keenly edge me to aid the gallant Sir Miers in his enterprise; yet, to tell thee the truth, the handsome knight might rauckon on as much service at my hands, yea, or more, when it mought please him bid me.”