“Lend me thy lance, good fellow,” said Roger; “I am in haste—here be money to get thee another.”
The man gave him the spear, took the money, and thanked him; and Roger went on. At the gate stood three horses held by a single groom. Roger went boldly up to him.
“Thou waitest thy master, friend?” said he in a tone of inquiry.
“Yea; and what be that to thee?” replied the fellow surlily.
“Because I have got an angel for thee, and I would know if thou be’st the right man,” replied Riddel.
“Give it me straight, then, good master,” said the man, eagerly.
“Nay, that will I not, neither straight nor crooked,” replied [[426]]Riddel; “that is, not till I know thy master’s name from thee, that I may know whether in very deed thou be’st the man I do look for.”
“’Tis Sir Robert Ogill that be my master,” replied the man.
“Then art thou the very good fellow I would speak with,” said Roger. “Give me that roan as fast as may be, and this angel here is the token thy master Sir Robert sent thee. I ride on business of his to the barrier.”
Without more ado, and without interruption from the groom, he leaped into the saddle, and riding by the guards at a careless pace, got beyond the barriers, and put his horse to speed for the Scottish camp. A shout was raised among a party of spearmen who were forming without, and some dozen or two of them spurred after him; but he had gained so much start of them, and his horse was so good, that he escaped in spite of all their exertions, and got fairly within the lines occupied by his countrymen.