"Has feud ran awa wi' yer senses, Otterstone?" again roared the good old baron. "I'll gie yer son, wha's at St. Omers, the hand o' my dochter Kate. Do you hear me, man? If you will mix the bluids o' oor twa houses, let it be dune by Haly Kirk." His words never reached Otterstone; but his own men who adored and idolized their beautiful young mistress, whose unvaried cheerfulness and kindness had won their hearts, heard the proposition of their master with astonishment and dissatisfaction. They were still sorely pressed by their enemy, who, seeing the stained handkerchief in the hands of Innerkepple, were roused to stronger efforts. At this moment an extraordinary vision met their eyes. A detachment of retainers from the castle came forward in the most regular warlike array, having at their head their young mistress, armed with a helmet and a light jerkin, and bearing in her hand a sword of suitable proportions. A loud shout from the worsted combatants expressed their satisfaction and surprise, and in a moment the assistant corps joined their friends, and commenced to fight. The unusual vision relaxed for a moment the energies of Otterstone's men; but a cry from their chief, that they would that day be ten times vanquished if they were defeated by a female leader, again inspired them, and instigated them to the fight. "Press forward, brave vassals of Innerkepple!" cried Katherine. "Your foes have no fair damsel to inspire them; and who shall resist those whose arms are nerved in defence of an old chief and a young mistress? He who kills the greatest number of Otterstone's men shall have the privilege of demanding a woman's guerdon from Katherine Kennedy. If this be not enough to make ye fight like lions, ye deserve to be hung in chains on the towers of Otterstone." Smiling as she uttered her strange speech, she hurried to her father, who was still making all the efforts in his power to bring about a parley. He had got within a few yards of Otterstone, and it required all the energies of Katherine to keep him back and defend him from insidious blows--an office she executed with great agility, by keeping her light sword whirling round her head, and inflicting wounds--not perhaps of great depth--on those who were ungallant and temerarious enough to approach her parent. "See, Otterstone, man," cried the laird, still intent on peace, and sorry for the deadly work that was going on around him. "Is she no fit to mak heirs to Otterstone? Up wi' yer helm, Kate, and show him yer fair face. Ha! man, stop this bluidy work, and let us mend a' by a carousal. Deil's in the heart and stamack o' the man that prefers warring to wassailing!"