The shout was repeated by the new-comers, and so lustily that all the villagers rushed to their doors.
After cordially greeting Lord Derwentwater and those with him, all of whom were friends, the squire led the whole party into the courtyard of the castle, and then told them they must not think of leaving him till the morrow.
“Don't imagine you will incommode me,” he said. “There is plenty of room in the old castle. To-day we will drink the king's health. To-morrow we will muster our forces, and prepare to fight his enemies. Forster, I hear, is at Rothbury, and if I hadn't joined your lordship, I should have joined him.”
Very well satisfied with their hearty reception, the earl and his friends with the whole troop dismounted, and were shortly afterwards installed in various parts of the castle.
That beds were found for all of them—or even half—we do not pretend to say; but in some way or other they were accommodated.
Later on in the day a substantial dinner was served in the old banqueting-hall.
A great deal of wine was drunk that night, as was generally the case at Otterburn, and it would have been strange indeed if a quarrel had not occurred between the choleric laird and some of his guests.
For a time Squire Hall appeared in remarkably good humour. He proposed a great number of Jacobite toasts, all of which were drunk with enthusiasm, but at length he propounded a plan for taking Newcastle by surprise, and its absurdity being pointed out to him by Colonel Oxburgh he flew into a violent rage, and told the colonel he was not fit to command a regiment.
The colonel immediately arose to leave the table, and Lord Derwentwater insisted that the squire should at once withdraw the offensive observation. Instead of doing so, the squire sprang from his chair, drew his sword, and dared Colonel Oxburgh to meet him; but while gesticulating fiercely he fell to the ground, and could not get up again. In this state he was carried off to bed, and next morning he had forgotten all about the occurrence.