"By the Holy Rood, and the blessed St. Bryde to boot! I have no patience with thee, friend Roland. I warrant thee in secret a sworn foe to Angus." "On my honour, no!" "And my mind misgives me sorely anent ye and my daughter, having both had the misfortune to be born on a Friday." "I pray you hear me," said Roland, with a secret smile. "So happy was James on beholding the Scottish shore, that, in a burst of gratitude to heaven and love for his people, he was not disinclined to relax those severe statutes under which the exiled peers and barons of the house of Douglas writhe and languish----" "Say writhe, Sir Roland, for I warrant me they will never languish!" said the tall countess, folding her hands, sitting very upright, and looking disdainfully. "Something might have been achieved by his eminence the Cardinal Beaton, whom I know to be my friend--for I am come, like himself, of an old Fifeshire family--when lo! the first barge from the shore brought a packet from Sir Adam Otterburn of Redhall, containing a woeful relation of raid, hership, and hamesucken, committed on the Knight of Cessford by the Earl of Ashkirk and a band of Northumbrian troopers whom he has taken into pay. Alas! lady, is this the verity?" "Not less so than just!" responded the countess, who shook every fold of her lofty head-dress with hauteur. "Is not Cessford the hereditary foe of my son; and God's blood! Rowland Vipont, why should his sword rest? Nay, my gallant Archibald, the moths will never eat the silk of that banner which these old hands wove thee!" Roland made no immediate reply to this outburst of the old Scottish spirit, but pressed the hand of Jane, and sighed. "This event, however, is most unfortunate, Lady Ashkirk," he said, after a pause, addressing the countess, and looking with a sad smile at Jane. "It will have a most serious effect upon our fortunes and our happiness. On reading the letter of his advocate, James never spoke, but struck his sword upon the deck and turned sharply away from us. His look was dark as midnight." "Redhall was over-officious," said the ladies. "The unmitigated fool!" exclaimed the countess, shaking her clenched hand. "I would my son were here." "Mother of God--nay, at such a time as this?" said little Sybil, with her dark eyes full of tears. "And think you, Sir Roland, that James is really so much incensed?" "So much, that I came this night to visit you by--by stealth." "Stealth!" reiterated the fiery countess, rising to the full height of her five feet ten inches, exclusive of red-heeled shoes. "Now, marry, come up and away with us! Sir Roland Vipont, what will you have the assurance to tell me next?"