“To tell you the truth,” said the young man with a laugh, “if they did not they would carry little money home with them. I not only carry arms, but know how to use them on occasion.” “I ask to see your papers giving you permission to travel in England.” “I have none. Scotland is at peace with England, and a citizen of my country should not require papers in visiting England, any more than an Englishman would need the same to go from one end of Scotland to the other.” “Humph,” growled the captain, “you are well versed in the law. I hope you are engaged in no enterprise that is contrary to it.” “I hope not, Captain. If you are King’s men, you maintain that you are upholding the law. If you are Parliamentary, you swear the same thing.” “We swear not at all.” “Then I surmise you are no King’s men. But in any case, until, one or other of you have declared war against Scotland, or until Scotland has declared war against either of you, or both, you meddle with a free citizen of Scotland at your peril.” “It is perhaps wisest to indulge in no threats.” “I am not indulging in any. I am stating a plain, uncontrovertible fact, that would be held by none so stoutly as by General Cromwell himself.” “Then keep your dissertations on law until you see the General, which is like to happen before we are done with you.” “Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to have a discourse with that distinguished man. He is a fighter after my own heart, and I understand he is equally powerful in controversy.” “Search him.” To this order Armstrong not only made no objection, but assisted in its fulfilment. He took off his doublet and threw it to one of the men who approached him, then held his arms outstretched that another might, with greater ease, conduct his examination. A third paid minute attention to the saddlebags, and a fourth took the saddle itself off the horse. The search brought to light some papers which the officer scanned, gaining thereby much information regarding the price of stots, stirks, and such like, but what these articles actually were, the peruser of the paper had not the slightest idea. “What is a stot; a weapon?” asked the captain suspiciously. “In a way it is a weapon, or at least an engine of attack,” replied William genially. “A stot is a young bull.” “Be sober in your answers, sir. This business is serious.” “I see it is. There never was much humour south of the Tweed, and you folk seem to have broad-sworded away what little you had of it.” “What is a stirk? I ask you to be careful of your answers, for they are being recorded.” “I am delighted to act as schoolmaster. A stirk is a steer or heifer between one and two years old. If my answer is not taken as an imputation on any of the solemn company here, I may add that a calf grows into a stirk.”