"Open, varlet of a watchman, or by Saint Bride I will have you
swinging in half an hour from the bars of your own portcullis. I who
speak am Sholto MacKim, captain of the Earl's guard. Every liegeman in
the town must arm, mount, and ride this instant to Edinburgh. I give
you fair warning. You hear my words, I will not enter your rascal
town. But if so much as one be wanting at the muster, I swear in the
name of my master that his house shall be burned with fire and razed
to the ground, and his wife be a widow or ever the cock craw on
another Sabbath morn!"
And without waiting for a reply Sholto laid the reins upon the neck of
Black Darnaway and rode on southward up Douglas Water to the home nest
of the lordly race.
And behind him, with a wail in it, blared through the narrow streets
the stormy voice of Grice Elshioner, watchman of Lanark, "Wauken ye,
wauken ye, burgesses a'! The Douglas hath sent to bid ye mount and
ride."
The _birr_ of the war drum saluted Sholto's ears ere he had turned the
corner of the town parks. Then came the answering shouts of the
burghers who thrust inquiring and indignant heads out of gable windows
and turret speering-holes.
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