"Well, sirs," said the plain Laird of Blackcastle, "to cross the Lammermuirs, or ride through the Merse, I would rather have my steel cap and rusty jack, with its plate sleeves, or it might be, a good coat of wambesan, than all this finery. But was it to appraise his attire, and to comment on the fashion of his cloak or the trimming of his doublet, you sent me for this person, my lords?" "Thou art the plainest of all plain-spoken fellows, Blackcastle," said his chief; "but thou art the best lance that rides on the land of the Hepburns. Nay, we sent for him to have a pot of wine together, and a little conversation." "I shall be glad to talk of anything your lordships please," said Borthwick, rather impatiently; "that is, anything except the battle off the May, anent which all men now speak, till I have sickened of it." "Well, then, canst thou----" "Nay," whispered the politic Home, "do not _thou_ him, lest we mar our purpose." "Can you keep a secret?" "Yes--if I am paid for it," was the unhesitating reply. "Can you also be sincere and of service?" "Yes--if I am very well paid for it." "Hech!" said Hepburn, "I would take thee to be one of that English faction who have been Scotland's curse since the days of Alexander III., and will be so till we have a broader barrier than the Tweed." Borthwick gave him one of his sour and sinister smiles. "Men must live," said he; "but what do your lordships desire?" "Simply this. Within the last hour a seaman landed from the ship of Admiral Wood, and he hath in his gaberdine----" "Nay," said Blackcastle, "you said before, his pouch." "Well, well, his pouch--a letter addressed we know not to whom; but this letter we must have, and if you will procure it by fair means or foul, we shall pay you bravely." "You will easily discover him, for all in Leith know and love the shipmates of Wood; we had made short work with him else," said Home, haughtily, "for we have lances enough to level the burgh, but seek not a feud with the Logans of Restalrig; thus I was half forced by Angus to hang a pikeman yesterday, in defiance of the law of _Burdingseck_ which sayeth that no man shall be 'hanged for stealing so much as he can bear on his bark in a poke.'" "The devil seize all laws!" said Blackcastle. "So say I," added Borthwick. "But what manner of man is this sailor?" "Short and square set," said Home. "With thick mustachios, a beard, and grey gaberdine?" "The same--a calfskin girdle and long boots like a horseman's gambadoes." "I have him--I know him! 'Tis Wad, the gunner of the _Yellow Frigate_, one of Sir Andrew's prime seamen." "I would they were hung together over yonder steeple!" "I know his howff, and before midnight will undertake to have this letter, even should I use my poniard for it."