Upon every man in the castle did the countess urge the dangerous mission--she entreated, she threatened, she offered the most liberal, the most tempting rewards; but the boldest rejected them with dismay. The Scottish army lay encompassing them around--their sentinels were upon the watch almost at every step, and to venture beyond the gate of the castle seemed but to meet death and to seek it. "At midnight have my fleetest horse in readiness," said Sir William, addressing his attendant--"what no man dare, I will!" "My brother!--thanks!--thanks!" exclaimed the countess, in a tone of joy. Madeline clasped her hands together--her cheeks became pale--her voice faltered--she burst into tears. "Weep not, loved one," said Sir William; "the heavens favour the enterprise which my Madeline conceived. Should the storm increase, there is hope--it is possible--it will be accomplished." And, while he yet spoke, the lightning glared along the walls of the castle, and the loud thunder pealed over the battlements. Yet Madeline wept, and repented that she had spoken of the possibility of deliverance. As it drew towards midnight, the terrors of the storm increased, and the fierce hail poured down in sheets and rattled upon the earth; the thunder almost incessantly roared louder and more loud; or, when it ceased, the angry wind moaned through the woods, like a chained giant in the grasp of an enemy; and the impenetrable darkness was rendered more dismal by the blue glare of the lightning flashing to and fro. Silently the castle gate was unbarred; and Sir William, throwing himself into the saddle, dashed his spurs into the sides of his courser, which bounded off at its utmost speed, followed by the adieux of his countrymen, and the prayers and the tears of Madeline. The gate was scarce barred behind him ere he was dashing through the midst of the Scottish host. But the noise of the warring elements drowned the trampling of his horse's feet, or where they were indistinctly heard for a few moments, the sound had ceased, and the horse and its rider were invisible, ere the sentinels, who had sought refuge from the fury of the storm in the tents, could perceive them. He passed through the Scottish lines in safety; and, proceeding by way of Morpeth and Newcastle, on the third day he reached the camp of King Edward, near Knaresborough. The gay and chivalrous monarch, at the head of a portion of his army, like a true knight, hastened to the relief of his distressed cousin. David, however, having heard of the approach of Edward, at the head of an army more numerous than his own, and his nobles representing to him that the rich and weighty booty which they had taken in their inroad into England, together with the oxen and the horses, would be awkward encumbrances in a battle, he reluctantly abandoned the siege of the castle, and commenced his march towards Jed Forest, about six hours before the arrival of Edward and Sir William Montague.