"Hallo!" cried Roland, to a horseman who came up at a rough trot, and whose grey plaid, blue bonnet, and white Galloway doublet, as well as his gambadoes, or riding boots of rough calf-skin, declared him a plain countryman; "a good day, friend. Wilt thou have a tass of brandy?" "God keep you, my captain--wi' mony gude thanks," replied the horseman, pulling up his nag, which was a strong Flanders mare. "Health to ye baith, sirs," said he, pulling his bonnet well forward, instead of raising it, as he nodded to each knight, and drained the vessel. "By my faith, but that's braw stuff!" "Ay, I daresay. 'Tis not often the burnt wine of Languedoc runs over thy Lanarkshire throat," said Roland, laughing; "dost thou travel our way?" "Sir knicht, that just depends upon which way yours may be," replied the fellow, dryly, drawing his plaid well over his face. "We are going to the Barmkyn Cairntable," said Roland, looking keenly at him under his helmet. "And so am I, sir." "Well, thy nag seems fresh, and thou art not, as we are, cased in armour; so ride fast, I pray you, and inform the gudeman of the Barmkyn that a party of the king's soldiers will halt there about dinner-time--say a hundred men or so--and that we will thank the gudewife to look well to her larder and kitchen----" "To kill the fatted calf, and set her best casks a-broach," said Leslie, laughing. "To select the hens that roost next the cock--the most delicate pullets----" "To examine her eel-arks--ha! ha!" "To prepare the most dainty pasties, and highly-seasoned patties--ha! ha! ha!" continued Roland, in the same merry tone; "for as both gudewife and gudeman are friends of the good and amiable lord advocate, they cannot but rejoice to make welcome those who come among them on the king's service." "And in whose name shall I give the message?" "In the name of Sir Roland Vipont, master of the ordnance." "Without fail," replied the horseman, putting spurs to his nag and galloping off; "but may the devil ryve the saul out of thee (and me too), if thou gettest not a reception as warm as auld Bauldy Fleming can give thee!" added Nichol the brodder, for the stranger was no other than he. "That fellow's laugh bespeaks him a rascal," said Leslie, who had been narrowly observing all that could be seen of Birrel's face; "how different it was from the broad grin of an honest yeoman." "Dost think so?" said Roland, looking after him as he galloped over an adjacent brae, and disappeared; "dost thou think he will play us false after our kindness?" "No, perhaps--but the committal of thy message to a stranger in these times, and in this place, is, to say the least of it, rather unwary. We might be entrapped and cut off."