As he was followed by his henchman, Lord James called the latter back. ‘Let me look in your face, good fellow,’ said he; ‘you have saved my life to-night.’ ‘The redder’s lick is aye the warst in the fray,’ answered the other, good-humouredly; ‘and doubtless your honour was no takin’ notice, and it must have gone clean through ye,’ he added, dogmatically. ‘You have saved my life,’ repeated Lord James. ‘I leave no scores unpaid for, good or evil, and if ever the time should come, I shall not forget the debt I owe you.’ But ‘Dick-o’-the-Cleugh’ shook his head doubtfully. ‘I’m no sae dooms sure o’ that,’ said he, as he strode on after his chief. ‘An’ I wad like ill to be beholden to a man that could part sic a bonny fray. Oh, man!’ he added to Maxwell, who had now joined him, ‘what garred ye bring in the burgher-guard? The drink was just dyin’ out in our lads, and we wad ha’ gotten the grandest ploy I’ve seen sin’ I cam’ out of Carlisle jail.’ CHAPTER X. ‘Away! away! thou traitor strang! Out of my sicht soon mayst thou be! I granted never a traitor grace, And now I’ll not begin with thee.’ It was with no agreeable feelings, that Maxwell received a summons to attend the Council at Holyrood the morning after the fray. Ere he had well slept off the fatigues and dissipation of the previous night, he was disturbed by a pursuivant in the royal livery, with the lion emblazoned on his surcoat, who required his immediate presence at the palace, and from whose rigid sense of duty he found it difficult to extort permission to summon ‘Dick-o’-the Cleugh’ as a witness in his favour. Maxwell reflected that the borderer’s straightforward testimony would serve to exonerate him from any share in the disturbance, except the measures which put a stop to it; and by dint of argument, remonstrance, and a bonnet-piece or two, he succeeded in sending a message to Bothwell himself, who, for reasons of his own, was only too ready to despatch his henchman in reply. As they proceeded together towards the palace, attended by the pursuivant and four stout men-at-arms, ‘Dick-o’-the-Cleugh’ could by no means be brought to consider their past broil in the light of a breach of the peace. On the contrary, he esteemed it from beginning to end as the simple and natural consequence of a jaunt to the capital, and was fully persuaded that their present expedition must result in a vote of praise to all concerned. Yet the borderer’s iron nerves seemed affected as they entered the precincts of the Abbey. He was unusually restless, and glanced hither and thither, as though in expectation. Certain female tones in the garden by no means restored his composure; and while Maxwell, with a thrill of offended pride, that was yet longing to forgive, recognised Mary Carmichael’s well-known voice, Dick nudged him vigorously with his elbow, and whispered--