"A fearfu' man, whose face is an index o' his heart," muttered Elsie Elshender, shaking her clenched hand at him behind Meinie's back. "'Tis just such a beard the warlocks and the deil have on, when they meet the witches at their sabbath on the Calton." As she spoke, the keen stern eye of the veteran cavalier chanced to fall full upon her, and the old woman trembled lest he might divine her thoughts, if he had not overheard her words--so great was the terror entertained of his real and imaginary powers. "Ye say true, Cummer Elsie," whispered Symon, the ground baillie, a grim old fellow, clad in hoddin grey, wearing his Sunday bonnet and plaid, a staff in his hand, and a broadsword at his side. "He hath the mark of the beast on his frontlet. Hah! I have seen as muckle bravery displayed in the moss o' Drumclog, but the cheer of the oppressor was changed ere the gloaming fell. But better times are coming, Elsie; better days are coming, and then sall 'the children of Zion be joyful in their king.'" Sir Thomas Dalyel, who "Like Claver'se fell chiel, Was in league wi' the deil," and had of course been rendered bullet-proof in consequence of this infernal compact, from his style of conversation was ill calculated to soothe the anxious fears of those he addressed. "How, Sir Thomas?" said Lady Grisel Napier, "I knew not that you were boune for England." "Nor am I, please you, madam," replied the old cavalier, standing in his stirrups, erect as a pike. "I am getting owre auld in the horn now. Eighty years, saxty of whilk were spent under harness, are beginning to tell sairly on me at last; and that frosty auld carle, Time, hath whispered long that my marching days are weel nigh over. But, please God, I may die in my buff coat yet, gif the tide of war rolls northward. I would fain see a few more blows exchanged on Scottish turf before I am laid below it." "I marvel not, Sir Thomas," said the gentle young Countess of Dunbarton, "that the sight of these passing bands rouses your nobler spirit, when I, who am so timid, feel myself inspired with a false ardour and courage." "Most noble ladies, the heart would indeed be a cauld one, that felt nae fire in sic an hour as this. By my faith, even my auld troop-horse, grey Marston, kittles up his lugs at the fanfare o' the trumpet, like a Don Cossacque at the cry of plunder. Puir Marston," he added, patting the neck of his charger, "I fear our fighting days are now gone by, unless the Dutch rapscallions come north, whilk may God direct, that auld Tammas o' the Binns may strike three strokes on steel for Scotland and his king, ere this baton is laid on his coffin-lid. 'Tis a brave sight, ladies, and Douglas hath under his banner some brave lads as ever marched to battle or breach. But I like not this new invention, whilk is callit the bayonet, preferring the good old Sweyn's feather, which repels the heaviest brigade of horse like a stane dyke.