A low-browed pend, or archway, opening from the street, and surmounted by a massive coat of arms within a deep square panel, gave admittance to the paved court of the mansion. He led his horse through, and was buckling the bridle to one of the numerous rings with which, for the convenience of mounted visitors, the walls of the court were furnished, when a man, who for some time before had been standing in the shadow of the archway, roughly jostled him. "How now, sirrah?" exclaimed Vipont, feeling for hie poniard, "what mean you by this?" "Pardon me--my foot tripped," replied the other, in a husky voice. "Who are you," asked Vipont, suspiciously, "and what make you here, sir?" "In the first place, I am no friend of yours; in the second, my purpose matters nothing to any man--so, keep your way, in Heaven's name, and let me keep mine, or it may fare the worse with you." "This is language rarely addressed to me." "Thou!" said the other, scornfully, "and who art thou?" "Devil choke thee, rascal!" exclaimed the soldier, angrily; "I am master of the king's ordnance." "To be master of your own temper would be better; but, like your brass culverins, it seems apt to go off upon occasions." "Hark you, sir; if you deem this witty, you are labouring under a delusion; and, had I not matters of more importance in hand, by the holy mass! I would break every bone in your body." The other made no immediate reply, but his eyes gleamed like two red coals beneath the black bonnet, which he wore drawn over his brows; but he was so well muffled up by the cape of his large mantle, that Sir Roland strove in vain to discover some clue as to whom he might be, that was prowling by night near the mansion of the Setons; and there was something so startling and cat-like in the aspect of his eyes, that the soldier recoiled a pace. "Sir Roland," continued the stranger, sarcastically, "you had acted a wiser part in staying by James's side at Holyrood to-night, than in forfeiting his fickle favour by visiting those who are his avowed enemies." "Thou liest, sirrah!" said Vipont, striking him on the shoulder with his clenched hand. "The Setons of Ashkirk are loyal as any in the land, and I will meet hand to hand, and body for body, any false traitor that gainsays me. But keep your own way, in the devil's name, and trouble me no more--so, a good even, sir." "I bid thee joy of thy wooing, fair sir," replied the other, scornfully, as the master of the ordnance entered, and closed the gate behind him. It was Redhall who spoke, and a sigh of rage and bitterness escaped him as Vipont approached the turnpike tower of the mansion. "Painted wasp!" he exclaimed, as he walked hurriedly away, "by Him who died upon the rood, that blow shall cost thee dear!"