Then Red Rowan has hente him up, The starkest man in Teviotdale-- "Abide, abide now, Red Rowan, Till of my Lord Scroope I take farewell." "Farewell, farewell, my gude Lord Scroope! My gude Lord Scroope, farewell!" he cried-- "I'll pay you for my lodging maill, When first we meet on the Border side." Then shoulder high, with shout and cry, We bore him down the ladder lang; At every stride Red Rowan made, I wot the Kinmont's airns play'd clang. "O mony a time," quo' Kinmont Willie, "I have ridden horse baith wild and wood; But a rougher beast than Red Rowan I ween my legs have ne'er bestrode." "And mony a time," quo' Kinmont Willie, "I've prick'd a horse out oure the furs; But since the day I back'd a steed, I never wore sic cumbrous spurs." We scarce had won the Staneshaw-bank, When a' the Carlisle bells were rung, And a thousand men on horse and foot Cam wi' the keen Lord Scroope along. Buccleuch has turn'd to Eden Water, Even where it flow'd frae bank to brim, And he has plunged in wi' a' his band, And safely swam them through the strem. He turn'd him on the other side, And at Lord Scroope his glove flung he-- "If ye like na my visit in merry England, In fair Scotland come visit me!" "All sore astonish'd stood Lord Scroope, He stood as still as rock of stane; He scarcely dared to trew his eyes, When through the water they had gone. "He is either himsell a devil fra hell, Or else his mother a witch maun be; I wadna have ridden that wan water, For a' the gowd in Christentie." The memory of that brave rescue nearly three hundred years before, as the scout afterward told his friends, was what inspired him to save his fellow-scouts as Buccleuch had saved the first William Kinmont. By saving the lives of these three men he would pay with interest for the life of his ancestor. Shakespeare writes somewhere that the good which men do is oft buried with their bones, but that their evil deeds live on forever. No more mistaken lines have ever been written. Evil brings about its own death. No good deed is ever forgotten or ever buried. Hundreds of years later it may flash out through the dust of centuries and light the path of high endeavor.