to the falcon, Christie, thou fool; an she escape, I will dispatch you after her every man. Away with that hypocritical dreamer; drag him hence if he resist!'
He was obeyed in both points. Christie of the Clinthill arrested the hawk's flight, by putting his foot on her jesses, and so holding her fast, while Henry Warden was led off, without having shown the slightest symptoms of terror, by two of the baron's satellites. Julian Avenel walked the apartment for a short time in sullen silence, and dispatching one of his attendants with a whispered message, which probably related to the health of the unfortunate Catherine, he said aloud, 'These rash and meddling priests! By Heaven! they make us worse than we would be without them.'n
The answer which he presently received seemed somewhat to pacify his angry mood, and he took his place at the board, commanding his retinue to do the like. All sat down in silence, and began the repast.
During the meal Christie in vain attempted to engage his youthful companion in carousal, or, at least, in conversation. Halbert Glendinning pleaded fatigue, and expressed himself unwilling to take any liquor stronger than the heather ale, which was at that time frequently used at meals. Thus every effort at joviality died away, until the baron, striking his hand against the table, as if impatient of the long unbroken silence, cried out aloud, 'What, ho! my masters; are ye Border-riders, and sit as mute over your meal as a mess of monks and friars? Some one sing, if no one list to speak. Meat eaten without either mirth or music is ill of digestion. Louis,' he added, speaking to one of the youngest of his followers, 'thou art ready enough to sing when no one bids thee.'
The young man looked first at his master, then up to the arched roof of the hall, then drank off the horn of ale, or wine, which stood beside him, and with a rough, yet not unmelodious voice, sang the following ditty to the ancient air of 'Blue Bonnets over the Border.'
I
March, march, Ettrick and Teviotdale,
Why the deil dinna ye march forward in order?
March, march, Eskdale and Liddesdale,
All the Blue Bonnets are bound for the Border.
