"By God's love and the Virgin's purity, I pray you, do not say so!" he exclaimed, imploringly. "By both, I assure you, it is said so," returned the coarse, unfeeling noble. "Rumour ever lies," said Sir Patrick Gray, angrily; "for on one hand 'tis said he has fled to England--on the other, to Holland; and there are many who maintain that he is on board the ships of that contumacious loon, old Largo, whose boats plied at the Craigward the live-long battle day, ferrying over the wounded and the fugitive." "From my soul, I thank you for the hope, my good Sir Patrick," said the prince, mournfully. "Until the king's flight or safety--his death or abdication are known, my lords, we can decide on nothing," said the constable. "Save that we must keep together in arms," added Angus, "till Parliament meets, and we are voted scathless for the raid at Sauchie." "We have gained a battle," said old Lord Drummond, in a growling whisper to his daughters: "we have routed our false king--slain his minion Ramsay of Balmain, whom some styled Lord of Bothwell; we have cut to pieces his red-doubletted guard; yet I am not one inch nearer discovering where the foul villains of the late court have hidden or murdered your sister Maggie, to further their English alliance." Crushed by their own sorrows, the poor girls did not reply to this vituperation, save by the tears which fell silently over their cheeks. Young girls in general look to the bright side of everything: thus the sisters were full of hope; and they loved their lost Margaret so much, that they shrunk, instinctively, with dismay from the rough inferences of their father; and from the idea that any one could injure a being so gentle and so harmless. "Listen to me, Effie Drummond," resumed the old lord, through his long mustachios, which resembled those of a walrus: "look a little more at the quarterings on Lord Hailes' tabard-coad and a little less at yonder devilish ships; and thou, too, Madam Sybilla--what, the fury! hath this skipper's son gained more influence over thee in one year than I have done in eighteen?" Still they wept silently, for none had spoken to them kindly save young Rothesay, and he knew not their secret; but now the sudden entrance of Lord Home, with his mail covered by dust, relieved them of their father's persecution, fur all now turned to him. "Welcome, Bailie of Coldinghame!" said Angus, who by his loftiness and confidence seemed more like a king than a mere peer; "what tidings--hast heard of our missing man?" "Nought, save that he hath fled; but I have been harrying the lands of the _malcontents_, his people." "And how many castles hast thou burned?"