"We shall not be balked of our revenge, mother," cried the youngest. "The Forester's blood cries more loudly than the voice of our father. Call the retainers, and break open the door, that we may get free. Haste, good mother!" "Haste! haste!" added other voices. "I cannot disobey Harden's commands," replied she, "though the face of this fair corpse seems to beckon me to the satisfaction of a mother's heart, at the price of a wife's rebellion. My Forester's glazed eyes are fixed on me, and say, 'Open, and let my brothers free, that my blood may be avenged.' I cannot obey. Three days you must remain there--three days must the Forester lie in his shroud--then will Harden be back, and he will bring with him the bloody doublet to hang on the point of your spears." "Whither is our father gone?" rejoined the impatient youths. "I know not, but these were his words," replied she. "I am to watch my Forester's body, and feed you through the west bole, for three days." "We cannot survive three days unrevenged, mother," said another. "We will take on ourselves the responsibility of release. Send us Wat's John, and he will break down this door. Bethink ye, good mother, that Gilmanscleugh may fly, and the Forester's ghost may wander for twenty moons in Harden's Glen, upbraiding his five brothers for not avenging his death." "I cannot disobey your father," again said she. "Then we will force our freedom, mother," cried the third son. "Disobedient boy, say not the word," answered she. "Wait the three days, and, if you will, nurse during that time your fire; for, if I am not deceived, your father will require of you as much avenging wrath as you have to bestow, when his horn sounds again his return to Harden."