Lord Graeme called angrily for the reckoning. "My blessing shall he never earn," said he, "till I see how his arm can defend his head." He threw down a crown, and went to the stable, took his horse, and rode home. "Welcome, my old father," said his son, Christie Graeme, "but where were ye so long from home?" "I have been at Carlisle town, and a shamed man I am by thee," answered his father with a black look; "I have been at Carlisle town, where Sir Robert Bewick met me. He says you are but a bad, wild youth, and can never be billie to his boy. I sent you to the school, and you would not learn. I bought you books, and you would not read; therefore you shall never have my blessing till I see you save your head in fight with young Bewick." "Now God forbid, my old father, that ever such a thing should be! Billie Bewick was my master, and I his scholar, in spite of the pains he wasted in teaching me." "O hold thy tongue, thou foolish lad! If thou dost not soon end this quarrel, there’s my glove, I’ll fight with thee myself." Then Christie Graeme stooped low. "Father, put on your glove again, the wind has blown it from your hand." "What’s that, thou sayst, thou limmer loon? How darest thou stand to speak to me? If thou do not end this quarrel soon, There’s my right hand, thou’lt fight with me!" Then went Christie to his chamber, to consider what should happen. Should he fight with his own father, or with his brother-in-arms, Bewick? "If I should kill my billie dear, God’s blessing I shall never win; But if I strike at my auld father, I think ’twould be a mortal sin. But if I kill my billie dear It is God’s will, so let it be; But I make a vow, ere I go from home, That I shall be the next man’s die." He put a good old jack or quilted doublet on his back, and on his head he put a cap of steel, and well did he become them with his sword and buckler by his side! Now young Bewick had taken his father’s sword under his arm, and walked about his father’s close. He looked between himself and the sun, to see some approaching object, and was aware of a man in bright armour, riding that way most hastily. "O who is yon, that comes this way, So hastily that hither came? I think it be my brother dear, I think it be young Christie Graeme. Your welcome here, my billie dear, And thrice you’re welcome unto me." Christie explained that he was come to fight, that his father had been to Carlisle, and had met with the elder Bewick. He retailed what had passed, "and so I’ll never earn my father’s blessing, till he sees how my arm can guard my head in fight against thee." "O God forbid, my billie dear, That ever such a thing should be! We’ll take three men on either side, And see if we can our fathers agree."