“And the people at Wolf’s Hope,” said Ravenswood, “did none of them come to your assistance before the flame got so high?”
“Ay did they, mony ane of them, the rapscallions!” said Caleb; “but truly I was in nae hurry to let them into the Tower, where there were so much plate and valuables.”
“Confound you for an impudent liar!” said Ravenswood, in uncontrollable ire, “there was not a single ounce of——”
“Forbye,” said the butler, most irreverently raising his voice to a pitch which drowned his master’s, “the fire made fast on us, owing to the store of tapestry and carved timmer in the banqueting-ha’, and the loons ran like scaulded rats sae sune as they heard of the gunpouther.”
“I do entreat,” said the Marquis to Ravenswood, “you will ask him no more questions.”
“Only one, my lord. What has become of poor Mysie?”
“Mysie!” said Caleb, “I had nae time to look about ony Mysie; she’s in the Tower, I’se warrant, biding her awful doom.”
“By heaven,” said Ravenswood, “I do not understand all this! The life of a faithful old creature is at stake; my lord, I will be withheld no longer; I will at least ride up, and see whether the danger is as imminent as this old fool pretends.”
“Weel, then, as I live by bread,” said Caleb, “Mysie is weel and safe. I saw her out of the castle before I left it mysell. Was I ganging to forget an auld fellow-servant?”
“What made you tell me the contrary this moment?” said his master.