The sun was nearly set behind the distant mountains of Liddesdale, when a few of the scattered and terrified inhabitants of the village of Hersildoune, which had four days before been burned by a predatory band of English Borderers, were now busied in repairing their ruined dwellings.One high tower in the centre of the village alone exhibited no appearance of devastation.
It was surrounded with court walls, and the outer gate was barred and bolted.The bushes and brambles which grew around, and had even insinuated their branches beneath the gate, plainly showed that it must have been many years since it had been opened.While the cottages around lay in smoking ruins, this pile, deserted and desolate as it seemed to be, had suffered nothing from the violence of the invaders; and the wretched beings who were endeavouring to repair their miserable huts against nightfall, seemed to neglect the preferable shelter which it might have afforded them, without the necessity of labour.
Before the day had quite gone down, a knight, richly armed, and mounted upon an ambling hackney, rode slowly into the village.His attendants were a lady, apparently young and beautiful, who rode by his side upon a dappled palfrey; his squire, who carried his helmet and lance, and led his battle-horse, a noble steed, richly caparisoned.A page and four yeomen, bearing bows and quivers, short swords, and targets of a span breadth, completed his equipage, which, though small, denoted him to be a man of high rank.
He stopped and addressed several of the inhabitants whom curiosity had withdrawn from their labour to gaze at him; but at the sound of his voice, and still more on perceiving the St.George's Cross in the caps of his followers, they fled, with a loud cry, ``that the Southrons were returned.''
The knight endeavoured to expostulate with the fugitives, who were chiefly aged men, women, and children; but their dread of the English name accelerated their flight, and in a few minutes, excepting the knight and his attendants, the place was deserted by all.He paced through the village to seek a shelter for the night, and despairing to find one either in the inaccessible tower, or the plundered huts of the peasantry, he directed his course to the left hand, where he spied a small decent habitation, apparently the abode of a man considerably above the common rank.After much knocking, the proprietor at length showed himself at the window, and speaking in the English dialect, with great signs of apprehension, demanded their business.The warrior replied, that his quality was an English knight and baron, and that he was travelling to the court of the King of Scotland on affairs of consequence to both kingdoms.
``Pardon my hesitation, noble Sir Knight,'' said the old man, as he unbolted and unbarred his doors---``Pardon my hesitation, but we are here exposed to too many intrusions, to admit of our exercising unlimited and unsuspicious hospitality.What I have is yours; and God send your mission may bring back peace and the good days of our old Queen Margaret!''
``Amen, worthy Franklin,'' quoth the Knight---``Did you know her?''
``I came to this country in her train,'' said the Franklin; ``and the care of some of her jointure lands, which she devolved on me, occasioned my settling here.''
``And how do you, being an Englishman,'' said the Knight, ``protect your life and property here, when one of your nation cannot obtain a single night's lodging, or a draught of water, were he thirsty?''
``Marry, noble Sir,'' answered the Franklin, ``use, as they say, will make a man live in a lion's den; and as I settled here in a quiet time, and have never given cause of offence, I am respected by my neighbours, and even, as you see, by our _forayers_ from England.''
``I rejoice to hear it, and accept your hospitality.---Isabella, my love, our worthy host will provide you a bed---My daughter, good Franklin, is ill at ease.We will occupy your house till the Scottish king shall return from his northern expedition---meanwhile call me Lord Lacy of Chester.''
The attendants of the Baron, assisted by the Franklin, were now busied in disposing of the horses, and arranging the table for some refreshment for Lord Lacy and his fair companion.While they sat down to it, they were attended by their host and his daughter, whom custom did not permit to eat in their presence, and who afterwards withdrew to an outer chamber, where the squire and page (both young men of noble birth) partook of supper, and were accommodated with beds.The yeomen, after doing honour to the rustic cheer of Queen Margaret's bailiff, withdrew to the stable, and each, beside his favourite horse, snored away the fatigues of their journey.
Early on the following morning, the travellers were reused by a thundering knocking at the door of the house, accompanied with many demands for instant admission, in the roughest tone.The squire and page of Lord Lacy, after buckling on their arms, were about to sally out to chastise these intruders, when the old host, after looking out at a private casement, contrived for reconnoitring his visitors, entreated them, with great signs of terror, to be quiet, if they did not mean that all in the house should be murdered.
He then hastened to the apartment of Lord Lacy, whom he met dressed in a long furred gown and the knightly cap called a _mortier,_ irritated at the noise, and demanding to know the cause which had disturbed the repose of the household.
``Noble sir,'' said the Franklin, ``one of the most formidable and bloody of the Scottish Border riders is at hand---he is never seen,'' added he, faltering with terror, ``so far from the hills, but with some bad purpose, and the power of accomplishing it; so hold yourself to your guard, for------''