“And, belike,” she replied, “ye would like to hear if the good lady has an answer back, or to learn how she bore the tidings o’ your unhappy fate.”
“Before you could return,” said he, “the time appointed by my adversary for my execution will be past, and I shall feel for my mother’s sorrows with the sympathy of a disembodied spirit.”
“But,” added she, “if you would like to hear from your poor mother, or, belike, to see her—for there may be family matters that ye would wish to have arranged—I think, through the influence of my lady, Sir Gideon could be prevailed upon to grant ye a respite for three or four days; and, as he isna a man that keeps his passion long, perhaps by that time he may be disposed to save your life upon terms that would be more acceptable.”
“No, maiden,” he replied; “he is my enemy; and from him I wish no terms—no clemency. Let him fulfil his purpose—I will die; but my death shall be revenged; and tell my mother that it was my latest injunction that she should command every follower of our house to avenge her son’s death, while there is a Murray left in all Scotland to repent the deed o’ the knight o’ Elibank.”
“Oh, sweet young ma’am, or mistress!” cried Simon; “bear the lady no such message; but rather, as ye hae said, try if it be possible to get your own good lady to persuade Sir Gideon to spare our lives for a few days; and, as ye say, the edge o’ the auld knight’s revenge may be blunted by that time, or, perhaps, my worthy young maister may be brought to see things in a clearer light, and, perhaps, to marry Miss Margaret, by which means our lives may be spared. For it is certainly the height o’ madness in him to sacrifice my life and his own, rather than marry her before he has seen her.”
“Simon,” interrupted the laird, “the maiden has spoken kindly; let her endeavour to procure a respite—a reprieve for you. In your death my enemy can have no gratification; but for me—leave me to myself.”
“O sir,” replied Simon, “ye wrong me—ye mistake my meaning a’thegither. If you are to die, I will die also; but do ye no think it would be as valorous, and mair rational, at least to see and hear the young leddy before ye determine to die rather than to marry her?”
“And hae ye,” said the maiden, addressing the laird, “preferred the gallows to poor Meg without even seeing her?”
“If I haena seen her I hae heard o’ her,” said he; “and by all accounts her countenance isna ane that ony man would desire to see accompanying him through the world like a shadow at his oxter.”
“Belike,” said the maiden, “she has been represented to you worse than she looks like—if ye saw her, ye might change your opinion; and, perhaps, after a’, that she isna bonny is a’ that any one can say against her.”