Tales From Scottish BalladsGrierson, Elizabeth W. (Elizabeth Wilson)
General
Tales From Scottish Ballads
Grierson, Elizabeth W. (Elizabeth Wilson)
Ballads, Scots -- Adaptations; Ballads, Scots -- Juvenile literature
After that we set to work and made such preparations as we could. We set
the wenches to draw water from the well, and to bake a good store of
bannocks to be ready in time of need, for the men must not be hungry
when they fought. Walter Brand and two of the strongest men-at-arms set
to work to strengthen the gates, by laying ponderous billets of wood
against them, and clasping these in their places by strong iron bars;
while the rest, led by old Andrew, went round the Castle, looking to the
loopholes, and the battlements, and examining the cross-bows and other
weapons.
Upstairs and downstairs went my lady, overlooking everything, thinking
of everything, as became a daughter of the great Randolph, while I sat
and kept the bairns, who, poor little lassies, were puzzled to know what
all the stir and din was about.
And indeed it was none too soon to look to all these things, for
although the country seemed quiet enough through the hours of that short
afternoon, when night fell, and I was putting the bairns to bed, my lady
helping me--for, when one bears a troubled heart (and her heart must
have been troubled, in spite of her cheerful face), it aye seems lighter
when the hands are full--a little page came running in to tell us that
there were lights flickering to Southward among the trees.
"Now hold thy silly tongue, laddie," said I, for I was anxious that we
should at least get one good night's rest before the storm and stress of
war came upon us.
My lady looked up with a smile from where she was kneeling beside
Mistress Jean's cradle. "Let him be, Marian," she said; "the lad meant
it well, and 'tis good to know how the danger threatens. Come, we will
go up and watch with old Andrew."
So, as soon as the bairns were asleep, we threw plaids over our heads,
and crept up the narrow stairs to where old Andrew was watching in his
own little tower, which stood out from the great tower like a
corbie's[15] nest, and, crouching down behind the battlements to gain
some shelter from the cruel wind, we watched the flickering lights
coming nearer and nearer from the Southward, and listened to the
shouting of men, and the tramp of horses' hoofs, which we could hear at
times coming faintly through the storm.
[Footnote 15: Crow's.]
For two long hours we waited, and then, as we could only guess what was
taking place, it being far too dark to see, we crept down the narrow
stairs again, stiff and chilled, and threw ourselves, all dressed as we
were, on our beds.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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