The Three Perils of Man: War, Women, and Witchcraft. James Hogg

the handle of sword or spear ony time afore that hanging at the paunch of priest. There's mair honour an' generosity ahint the tane than the tither. But yet it shall never be said o' John Robson o' the Trows that he refused a friend quarters on a dark night. He kens ower weel that the king may come in the beggar's way. Gin ye be joking, he can stand a joke wi' ony man; but gin ye be really gaun to hand him as an Amalekite, he wad like to ken what that is, an' what lengths ye mean to gang."

      "Thinkest thou that we will come into thy house to take of thy spoil for a prey, and thy maid servants for bond-women, and also thy little ones?" said the friar.

      "The deil be there then," cried Jock Robson. "I wadna grudge ye meal an' maut, but or ye lay a hand on ane o' my lasses, or kidnap away my bits o' bairnies frae me, ye sal gang ower my breast, an' that wi' a braid arrow through ilk ane o' you. Be at your shift, bauld priest, here's for ye."

      On saying so, he turned hastily about, and the friar that moment clapping the spurs to his mule, gallopped round the corner, leaving the rest to make good their quarters in the best way they could. The mention of the broad arrow made him think it was high time for him to change his ground.

      "There rides gospel, guts an' a'," cried Tam Craik, laughing aloud.

      The laugh was well known to Robson; for the warden's troopers had been so often there that year, that almost all of them were John Robson's personal acquaintances.

      "What?" cried he, turning back his head, "Isna that the deil's Tam that I hear?"

      "Ay, what for shoudna it, lad? an' how dare ye fright away our chaplain wi' your bows an' your braid arrows? Gin we had Jock's Marion, the sow-killer's wife o' Jeddart, at ye, wha wad be crousest then, trow ye?"

      "Tam, it is weel kend your tongue is nae scandal; but dinna ye lippen ower muckle to your privilege; gin ye be come to quarter wi' me, dinna let me hear sic a hard jibe as that the night again. Come away, however, the warden's men are welcome, as weel they may be this year. Mony a fat mart they hae left i' my hire. I hope ye hae brought a bonny kane the night."

      "Ay, by my certie, lad, an' that we hae; here's nae less a kane than Jock's Marion hersel."

      "Ye scawed like bog-stalker! skrinkit, skraeshankit skebeld! dare ye to speak that gate to me at my ain door stane? I shall lend you a clout an ye were the king's cousin, an' see if ye dare return the compliment. Wife, bring the buet an' my piked rung here."

      "Peace, in the king's name!" cried Charlie Scott.

      "And in the name of St. David!" cried the friar, returning to the charge on hearing Charlie's voice.

      "And in my name!" cried Tam Craik;" an' Gibby Jordan o' the Peatstacknowe's name; and the name o' Jock's Marion, the sow-sticker's wife o' Jeddart. I say unto thee, look here. Here is the kane will please a brave yeoman. Look if this be nae Marion hersel"—and with that he led Delany's palfrey up to the light.

      Robson lifted his eyes and saw her, and was so much struck with her dazzling beauty, that he had not power to address even his beloved friend Charlie Scott, far less any other of his guests, but lifting the maiden down in his arms, he led her in to his dame, and said to one of his lads, "Rin out wi' a light, callant, an' help the troopers to put up their horses."

      The horses were soon put up, for every one seemed more anxious than another to get first in to the cheek of Jock Robson's ingle, and have his seat placed next to that of Delany; but the poet being the most agile, and not the least amorous of the group, effected this greatly to his satisfaction.