Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 14
General
Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 14
Scottish Borders (Scotland) -- Fiction
"And he said truly," replied Margaret; "for, if he have us once within
his power, not even the boldest knight in Scotland will be able to
receive our hands, unless he sue for it with gallant bowmen at his back,
and the unsheathed sword to enforce his suit."
"Oh, then, sister," subjoined Marion, "I suppose you have a knight at
hand who would delight in such handiwork; for is not Sir Patrick Hume of
Wedderburn reputed to be the most valorous knight upon the Borders, and
withal the humble worshipper of fair Margaret Sinclair of Polwarth?"
And as the maiden spoke, she laughed, and tapped her sister
good-naturedly upon the cheek. Margaret blushed, and playfully replied,
"Well, sister, is there no valorous knight at Wedderburn but Sir
Patrick? What think ye of George Hume?"
"No more of this," cried Marion; "let us accept our uncle's invitation,
and mingle with the gay company he has invited to meet us."
"If you will have it so, let it be so," replied Margaret; "but, trust
me, I fear that good will not come of it."
On the following day they set out upon their journey towards
Herdmanstone, accompanied by only two men-servants. The uncle received
them with a show of cordial friendship; but the guests whom they
expected to meet they saw not; and they had been but a few minutes
beneath his roof, when they found themselves prisoners, secured by
gratings, bolts, and bars. On discovering the situation into which they
had been entrapped, Marion wept aloud, and accused herself of being the
unwitting author of her sister's captivity.
"Fear not," said Margaret. "Our uncle is a stern man, he is a man of
blood; but there are as strong hands as his, that will be raised to
deliver the sisters of Kimmerghame and Polwarth, when their captivity
becomes known."
"But how will it be known?" asked Marion; "for who knows that we are
here?"
"Let us trust in him who is the orphan's father," replied her sister,
"and leave all to his good providence."
"Amen!" said the other; but she sobbed bitterly as she spoke.
On the second day of their imprisonment, their uncle entered the
apartment where they were confined.
"Weel, maidens," said he, sternly, "how like ye your abode at
Herdmanstone? I have observed the slightfu een with which baith o' you
have looked upon your uncle; and now that ye are in my power, ye shall
repent the airs o' disdain that ye hae taken upon ye. It becomes nae the
blood o' Polwarths to assume a superiority over the house o' Sinclair.
So choose ye--there are twa cousins, who are not very auld, but they're
growing; ye shall hae your choice to marry them, or the deepest dungeon
in Herdmanstone shall be your doom. Your destiny is placed in your own
hands--decide it as ye will; but remember that it is a Sinclair that
never broke his word that wags the finger o' fate over your heads. Eight
days--eight days, remember!" he repeated, and left them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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