"Sir Andrew Wood, for a thousand rose nobles!" said the gunner, slapping his thigh; "thou hast the true eye of an English archer, Tony, thof thou'st but one; well, I thought we should not make out two days of a quiet cruise here. Give way, my hearts--give way! odds firkin, they are bringing down both wind and tide with them--yare--yare--stretch out!" "It _is_ the Admiral Wood," said Borthwick, with gloomy spite, "and my message to your captain concerns him." "They are hull down as yet, though," said the gunner, as he stood up and shaded his weather-beaten visage with his thick knotty hand; "well--odds my life, bold as he is--and a better seamen never spliced a rope, Scot though he be, I do not think Sir Andrew, with only two ships, will venture to attack us; and we'll see him haul his wind ere another half-glass is run." The ships of Wood were about nine miles off, being abreast of North Berwick, and they loomed large through the haze of the summer gloaming, which, however, was rising from the water as the moon, which was round and full, soared into the clear blue sky, above the hills of East Lothian. The Ness of Fife was not visible in the haze, for at this extreme point the noble Forth is more than twenty miles broad. CHAPTER XLII. THE LOVER AND THE SPY. "O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps, And now falls on her bed."--Shakespeare. The approaching vessels had been descried already from the ships of Howard, who fired a cannon to quicken his boat; and the moment it was on board and hoisted in, with its provisions he desired all to be cleared away for battle, and ordered Borthwick to attend him in his cabin. "Well, thou bird of ill omen," said he, while arming himself, "what evil wind hath blown thee on board the _Harry_ to-night? Speak out, and briefly, too; try none of thy cobler tricks with me." "I have come with a message from the Lords at Leith----" "Ah! they are there, then; and the rumours we have heard are true: has the King of Scotland fought a battle and been defeated?" "Yes, and hath fled, no man knows whither," said Borthwick, with a dark smile on his pale face, while he could not repress a twinge of uneasiness at the mention of the king's name, for he saw ever before him--when alone for a moment--that ghastly corpse, lying where he had flung it, in the ditch beside the Bannock. "And so young Rothesay now is king," said Howard, sadly, and pausing while he braced his corslet. "No--nor can be, until we ascertain that the king, his father, is dead." "Of course; well, and what want your rebel lords with me?" "I should have said Sir Patrick Gray." "Well, well--speak quickly; for the foe comes on. Your message----" "Concerns the Lady Margaret Drummond, and your bond in cipher with the Scottish friends of King Henry." "Well," said Howard again, buckling his waist-belt with a furious jerk; "what of them?"