"Whenever your Lordship pleases, I am your most obedient," replied Douglas, bowing coldly as he hurried to join the terrified ladies, with whom he had barely time to get into the hackney-coach and drive off, when the door of the prison opened, and a few of the Town Guard, who had heard the clashing of the rapiers, rushed forth with lanterns and poleaxes; like modern police, exhibiting great alacrity when the danger was over, they seized Clermistonlee. "Dare ye lay hands on a gentleman," he exclaimed, fiercely shaking them off. "Unhand me, villains, I am Randal Lord Clermistonlee! I was assaulted----" "By whom, my Lord, by whom?" replied the guardians of the peace, cringing before this imperious noble. "What is it to such rascals as thee?--oh, a knavish cloak snatcher, or cut-purse, or something of that kind. Retire--I have always hands to defend myself." The guard with hurried and half audible apologies withdrew, and the brawling lord was left to his own confused reflections. He tied a handkerchief about his hand, and was about to withdraw, when a thought struck him: he approached the grating of the low dungeon, and placing close to it his face, which though unseen was pale with fury, while his dark eyes gleamed like two red sparks, "Art there, thou spawn of the Covenant?" he asked in a husky voice: "Ah, dog of a Fenton, I will hang thee high as Haman for this night's misadventure!" The prisoner replied by a scornful laugh, and the exasperated roué strode away. CHAPTER XI. CLERMISTONLEE AT HOME. "Too long by love a wandering fire misled, My latter days in vain delusion fled; Day after day, year after year, withdrew, And beauty blessed the minutes as they flew, These hours consumed in joy, but lost to fame----" HAMILTON OF BANGOUR.