The altercation between the old retainer and his young master ran farther; but it was suddenly interrupted by the deep-mouthed baying of a sleuth-hound; and its threatening howls were followed by a loud cry, as if from fifty voices, of--"To-night for Sir Gideon and the house of Elibank!" But here we pause to say that Sir Gideon Murray of Elibank was a man whose name was a sound of terror to all who were his enemies. As a foe, he was fierce, resolute, unforgiving. He had never been known to turn his back upon a foe, or forgive an injury. He knew the meaning of justice in its severest sense, but not of compassion; he was a stranger to the attribute of mercy, and the life of the man who had injured him, he regarded as little as the life of the worm which he might tread beneath his heel upon his path. He was a man of middle age; and had three daughters, none of whom were what the world calls beautiful; but, on the contrary, they were what even the dependents upon his estates described as "very ordinary-looking young women." Such was Sir Gideon Murray of Elibank; and, although the young laird of Harden conceived that he had come upon him as "a thief in the night"--and some of my readers, from the transaction recorded, may be somewhat apt to take the scriptural quotation in a literal sense--yet I would say, as old Satchel sings of the Borderers of those days, they were men-- "Somewhat unruly, and very ill to tame. I would have none think that I call them thieves; For, if I did, it would be arrant lies." But, stealthily as the young master of Harden had made his preparations for the foray, old Sir Gideon had got timely notice of it; and hence it was, that not a Murray seemed astir when they took the cattle from the byres, and drove them towards Oakwood. But, through the moonlight, there were eyes beheld every step they took--their every movement was watched and traced; and amongst those who watched was the stern old knight, with fifty followers at his back. "Quiet! quiet!" he again and again, in deep murmurs, uttered to his dependents, throwing back his hand, and speaking in a deep and earnest whisper, that awed even the slow but ferocious sleuth-hound that accompanied them, and caused it to crouch back to his feet. In a yet deeper whisper, he added, encouragingly--"Patience, my merry men!--bide your time!--ye shall hae work before long go by." When, therefore, the young laird and his followers began to disperse in the thickest of the forest, as they drove the cattle before them, Sir Gideon suddenly exclaimed--"Now for the onset!" And, at the sound of his voice, the sleuth-hound howled loud and savagely. "We are followed!--Halt! halt!--to arms! to arms!" cried the heir of Harden.