“Stand aside, Duncan,” cried the knight, now somewhat sensible of his apparently unwarrantable violence, and altogether confounded by the Wolfe of Badenoch’s unlooked-for defence of the Franciscan. “By St. Baldrid, my Lord of Buchan, I should have as soon looked to have seen the eagle defending the owl who hath robbed her nest, as to see thee thus stand forth the protector of that accursed priest, that foul-mouthed slanderer, and remorseless assassin. Let me secure him. He is a criminal who must be brought to justice.”
“Thou shalt not touch the hem of his garment,” roared the Wolfe of Badenoch.
“Nay, give him way, my noble Lord of Buchan,” said the Franciscan in a taunting manner; “let this brave knight have way to use his poinard, or his sword, against the defenceless body of a friar. But,” continued he, snatching a long spear from one of those near him, whilst his eyes flashed a fiery defiance against Hepborne, “let him come on now, and he shall find that beneath this peaceful habit there doth beat as proud and determined a heart as ever his bosom did own. As for his [[594]]villainous and lying charges, I do hereby cast them back in his teeth as false.”
“Caitiff,” cried Sir Patrick, “I should gain but little credit, I trow, by attacking a vile friar. I did but intend to prevent thine escape from the justice thou dost merit; and if I were but sure of seeing thee again in fitter time and place, when and where I could bring forward my charges, and prove them against thee, I should let thee go for this present.”
“Nay, fear not, I will promise not to shun thee, Sir Knight,” said the friar; “and thou, too, dost well know what charges thou shalt have to defend. The Earl of Buchan here will answer for my presence in the Castle when it shall be wanted; but who shall answer for thine?”
“I will,” said Sir John Halyburton, who chanced to come up at that moment.
“Sir John Halyburton!” exclaimed the Franciscan, with an air of astonishment. “Um—’tis well; and trust me, Sir John Halyburton, thou wilt find that thou hast more interest in his being forthcoming than thou dost at this moment imagine, and so the sooner he doth appear the better.”
“Nay, I will follow thee now,” replied Sir Patrick; “by all the holy saints, thou shalt not leave my sight.”
“Come on, then,” replied the Franciscan, with a bitter laugh; “and yonder cometh the King’s litter, so thou shalt have little time to wait, I wis, for ample justice.”
The monk then entered the Castle, followed by the Wolfe of Badenoch, who still brandished the long Scottish axe, and looked sternly around from time to time upon Sir Patrick as if suspicious that he might yet meditate an attack upon the friar.