‘I’ve been the length of Holyrood to see for you!’ exclaimed the borderer with a boisterous welcome, ‘and here I happen on you like a deer that’s ta’en the double when the bloodhound is off the slot. Come away, man, come away; the warden’s gotten a grand spread the night, an’ I was bid to fetch ye, ’gin ye were in the Queen’s presence! And noo’, ye’ll just gang in wi’ me; ye ken we’ve an awfu’ grip, we Liddesdale lads! an’ I would like fine to see if ye can drink, man, as well as ye can fight. I’m thinkin’ little Jock Elliott’s no forgotten ye, Mr Maxwell!’ And Dick laughed heartily at the recollection of his first acquaintance with his present companion. Maxwell professed his readiness to accept the Earl’s invitation, and linking his arm in that of the stalwart henchman, proceeded in the direction of Bothwell’s lodging, the pair provoking no little ill-will from divers armed retainers in the street, who recognised the cognisance of the Hepburn, and some admiration from the maids and matrons of the Old Town, the latter especially approving of Dick’s stalwart proportions and comely, good-natured face. ‘Yon’s a proper man!’ observed a stout dame with her arms a-kimbo, to a dishevelled and dirty lady, emptying a pail of water scarcely more dirty than herself. ‘He’s no that ill,’ replied the other, desisting from her operations to push back her tangled locks, that she might have a good look. ‘Lass!’ she added in shrill, impressive tones, ‘he’s a godless borderer. I ken them fine by their ’spauld-pieces.[3] He’ll get his licks the night, I’m thinkin’, an muckle guid may they do till him! It’s no sae saft lyin’ on the causeway as doun amang the moss-hags at hame!’ After which ill-omened sentiment, she retired abruptly, shutting her door with a bang. [3] Plates of steel that defended the arm and shoulder. Honest Dick, however, took no notice of these and other less unpleasant remarks, but strode boldly on, discoursing, between bursts of merriment, on the encounter with little Jock Elliott, an assault of which he seemed to entertain a highly facetious remembrance. ‘In here, man,’ said he, turning up one of those offshoots from the main street, which is termed to this day ‘a close,’ and dragging Maxwell after him with obvious glee. ‘I ken the place fine by the weather-marks forenent the wa’. It’s an awfu’ toon this, for a body to lose theirsel’! There’s runnin’ water too to guide a man,’ pointing to a sluggish stream of filth that trickled under their feet; ‘but it’s no that clear that it is in Liddesdale. Up the stair, man; yer’ welcome, nae fears!’