Rage, mortification, and love (if so his passion can be named), possessed by turns the proud heart of Clermistonlee; but every idea soon became absorbed in one deep and concentrated longing for revenge--revenge upon Douglas of Finland and Walter Fenton, especially the latter, as being the most dangerous and hated--his rival. He considered and re-considered every charge upon which he could possibly subject their conduct to the scrutiny of the council, and their persons to its torture and dungeons. It was in vain. The high character of Finland on one hand, and the influence of Dunbarton on the other, rendered all such attempts utterly futile; and with a savage exultation, the baffled Lord resolved to trust to his own unerring hand for disabling, maiming, and perhaps slaying the young Ensign: and he resolved, on the first opportunity, to put in practice a species of outrage, which was far from being uncommon in those unsettled times, when our bold forefathers fought to the last gasp, rather than yield one inch of the causeway to a man of a family or a faction whom they held at feud. While the _dénouement_ (recorded in the preceding chapter) was taking place at the desolate old mansion of Drumsheugh, gay Annie Laurie, with her usual vivacity and wit, was relating to the Earl and his beautiful Countess, and to Lilian, who, with Walter Fenton, had tarried in the bower or boudoir after all the other guests had departed, the plot of the famous roué; and how, by her contrivance, Douglas had been carried off in the sedan to mortify and disappoint him. Poor Lilian trembled and changed colour as she felt alternately fear and indignation at the lure that had been laid for her; but Walter kindled up into a red-hot passion; the Countess became agitated; and the Earl hurriedly buckled on his walking sword, saying,-- "This must be looked to. My fair but thoughtless Laurie, mischief will come of this, Douglas is a brave spark, and somewhat too prompt in the use of his hands; while Clermistonlee is wary as a wolf, and blood will be drawn. Fenton, order the household guard to horse: we will ride round and arrest them, ere worse come of it." "Yes, yes," exclaimed the little Countess, clasping her white hands; "away, away--but oh, will it not make both your deadly enemies? Heavens! what a land is this for blows and outrage!" "Fear not, dear Lady Dunbarton," said Annie. "When Douglas left me, he pledged his sacred word of honour not to fight Clermistonlee until I gave permission. That promise ties his sword to its sheath, unless his honour requires it should be drawn, and then ill would it become a Laurie of Maxwelton to fetter the hand of any brave cavalier." "You are a perfect enchantress, fair Annie," said the Earl, pressing one of her silken ringlets to his lips; "one that can rule our wildest gallants, and bend them to your will like the Urganda of Amadis."