Chapter 14: In Hiding.

The moment the horsemen had gone by, Oswald and Roger hastily dressed again. It was three or four minutes before the girls joined them.

"We have been a long time, Oswald, but our fingers are so cold that we could not tie the strings."

"You will soon be warm. Climbing the hill will set your blood in motion."

There was no hurry now. They were safe until the morning.

"We will make up the hill until you are thoroughly warm, and then we will discuss matters."

Before they were very far up the ascent, both girls declared that they were comfortably warm again.

"Well, Roger, what do you think our best course will be? The Bairds have, of course, sent horsemen along the other road. They will have heard, from the priest, that we have but a few minutes' start; and will know that we cannot have gone far. The party who passed us will doubtless stop at Parton, the other at the next village higher up; and they will be sure that either we concealed ourselves as they passed, or have taken to the hills on one side or other of the valley. They will naturally suppose that it is this side, as it would be madness for us to plunge farther into the country to the west; and you may be sure there will be scores of men out on these hills, tomorrow, searching for us; and some of them may ride nearly to Hiniltie, to cut us off there in case we escape the searchers on the hills.

"I think that the only plan will be to hide up for a couple of days, or so; then to make our way down again to where the horses are, and then make a dash through Parton."

"That would certainly be far the best way," Roger said; "but how are we to manage for food for the ladies?"

"We will go on until we get to the top of the hill, Roger, and then find a sheltered spot, where they can stop. It is of no use trying to go on much farther, for the night is cloudy, and there are no stars to be seen, and we should lose our way directly, for there is no wind that would serve as a guide as to which way we were travelling. When we find a good shelter, we must stop with them; and I will make my way down to the place where the horses are, and warn the men as to what has happened, and tell them to lie quiet till I come again. I will bring back whatever food they may have with them, a big jug of water, and the four horse cloths."

"I will go, master."

"I would rather go myself, Roger. I am accustomed to traverse the moors at night, and am sure that I can find this place again, without difficulty."

On nearing the top of the hill, they came upon a number of rough stones.

"We cannot do better than stop here," Oswald said. "It will be bare on the top of the hill. Now, Roger, help me to pile a few of these stones together, so as to make a sort of shelter."

They set to work at once, Roger's strength enabling him to lift stones that ordinary men could scarcely have moved. In a quarter of an hour a little inclosure, six feet long by four wide and three high, had been constructed. An armful of dry heather was then pulled up, and laid on the ground.

"There, girls, I think you will be able to manage to keep yourselves warm, by lying close together."

"What are you going to do, Oswald?"

"We shall be all right; and we can, if we like, make another shelter; and, if we feel cold, can walk about to warm ourselves. Now, Roger, get half a dozen sticks and lay across the top."

While Roger was away getting the sticks, Oswald helped the girls over the wall, for no entrance had been left.

"Now, Janet, give me those two wet smocks; I see that you have brought them with you."

"What do you want them for, Oswald?"

"I want them for the roof, Janet. It is beginning to freeze hard, and it is of no use having walls, if you have not a roof."

"Won't you take my cloak, instead?"

"Certainly not, Janet, you will want your cloak for a covering. Don't be silly, but hand them over."

By this time, Roger had returned with the sticks. They were laid across the top, and the girls' smocks spread over them.

"Now, go to sleep," Oswald said; "we must be on foot, an hour before dawn."

Oswald then started down the hill for Parton. When he got within a mile of the town, he could see lights moving about on the road; and guessed that the Bairds had got torches, and were making sure that the fugitives had not hidden themselves anywhere close to the road; for they must have felt certain that they could not have reached the town, before being overtaken. When the lights had gone along the road, he descended to the river, took off his doublet and shirt, as before, and swam over; crossed the road, and was not long in finding the trees that marked the spot where he was to turn off to the farmhouse.

He made his way to the stable, raised the latch, and entered. A lamp was burning, and the two men sitting and talking together. They leapt up, with an exclamation of pleasure, as Oswald entered.

"We were afraid that something might have gone wrong; for, as I was waiting for you in the road, I heard a body of horsemen coming along, and hid behind the trees. As they went by, one of them said, 'We must have passed them long ago, if they came by this road. They had not more than a quarter of an hour's start.'

"I heard no more, but it suggested that, maybe, you had managed to escape with the ladies, and that the Bairds were in pursuit of you."

"That was exactly the case. We have got them out of the hold, and methought that we should have got two hours' start, at least, in which case they would not have overtaken us before we had crossed the Liddel, at the ford, six miles above the junction of the Esk with it, and were well on our road towards Longtown; but by some accident, I know not what, the matter was discovered before we have been gone ten minutes. As it was certain that they would overtake us, long before we got to Parton, we swam the Esk, and I have left the ladies on the hill over there, in charge of Roger, while I came here. We know that, by morning, the countryside will be up and searching the hills; and that, with the two lasses, it would be hopeless for us to try and make our way on to Hiniltie.

"Therefore, we decided to hide up for two or three days, then to make our way down here at night, mount, and ride through. By that time the search down in the valley here will have slackened, and we shall get through Parton all right, and our only danger will be at the ford across the Liddel; where, possibly, the Bairds may set a guard, lest we find our way down there. I had intended that we should take the four horses, and that you should make your way to Hiniltie across the hills; but as there will now be no great occasion for speed, one of you had best ride with us, while the other bears the news to Hiniltie that we have carried off the girls.

"You had better settle between yourselves which shall go with us. You may take it that there is about equal danger, both ways, for the one that goes to Hiniltie must travel cautiously, as it will be a week before the Bairds give up the search among the hills."

"We had best decide by lot."

Oswald picked up a piece of straw, and broke off two fragments, one an inch longer than the other; and, closing his hand on them, he held the two ends out.

"Do you draw," he said, holding it out to Fergus. "The longest straw goes to Hiniltie, and shortest with us."

The man drew.

"I have the longest," he said, "and perhaps it were best that it should be so, for I know the way thoroughly, having often been over the hills in search of missing cattle."

"You will both remain here, till we come. Now, what food have you?"

"We bought a supply in Parton, yesterday evening, and have enough for a week; for we thought that some might be needed by the whole party, on our way; and moreover, we care not to go down often to the town, as we might attract attention."

"That is good. Keep enough for tomorrow, for yourselves; I will take the rest."

"There is no need for that. We can get what we want from the house and, tomorrow evening, one of us will go down into Parton again."

"Or better still," Oswald said, "give the money to the hind here. I suppose there is one."

"Yes; he sleeps in the house."

"Give him money, then, and a present for himself, and get him to fetch it for you. Some of the Bairds may remain there, and you may be sure that every stranger will be strictly questioned. I want also the four horse cloths, which please make into a bundle. Is your water skin full?"

"We filled it this afternoon, thinking it possible that we might make a hasty start tonight."

"How much does it hold?"

"About two gallons."

"It would have been better had it been four. However, we must manage with it. Now, do you know of any ford across the river? for I certainly could not swim across, with this load."

"There is one half a mile farther up. We were asking the hind about it, the other day, thinking that it might be useful should we have to fly suddenly. I will go down with you; and indeed, I shall be glad to go the whole way with you, for the provisions and those blankets and the skin will be no light weight; and, as I am going to Hiniltie, it will cheer Armstrong if I could tell him that I saw his daughters."

"It would be a good plan, Fergus, though in truth the weight would be no great burden; but certainly, Armstrong would be pleased to know that you had seen his daughters."

A few minutes later they set out, forded the river breast high, carrying the loads on their heads; and then, climbing the hill, made their way to the shelter, whose exact position Oswald had marked, on starting, by a huge boulder that stood on the crest of the hill, some fifty feet above it.

Roger was on the lookout. Seeing two figures approaching, when he expected but one, he grasped his staff firmly.

"Who comes there?" he asked.

"It is I, Roger. I have brought one of the men with me, to help carry the things. He is going to Hiniltie, and thought that Armstrong would be pleased to know he had seen his daughters. I have got plenty of food, and a skin of water."

"That is capital," Roger said cheerfully. "I was fearing that, having so many things to think of, you might forget water."

Oswald went to the shelter.

"Are you awake, Janet?"

"Yes," she replied. "I have been anxious, while you were away."

"Are you cold?"

"I am not very warm," she answered; "but do not trouble about it, we shall do very well."

"I have two blankets here," he said, as he removed the covering. "One of these I will put over you both, and tuck it well in, each side, to keep out the wind that comes in between the stones. Then I will lay your smocks over that. I wrung them well, before putting them on the sticks; and although I cannot say they are dry, yet they are not damp enough to matter, and will help keep you warm. The other blanket I will put over the sticks."

"Thank you indeed, Oswald," the girl said, gratefully. "That feels very much more comfortable."

"Now, Roger, there is a blanket for you, and one for me, to wrap round us, plaid fashion."

"I do not need one, master. In faith, I have more respect for this gown than I ever had before--it is wondrously warm and, with the hood over my head, I want nothing more."

"That is all very well, Roger. If you don't need it for your shoulders, you need it for your legs; for being without hose, and with nought but those sandals, you must be freezing. We will walk up and down here, for a bit, and do you wrap it round your legs, like a Highlander's petticoat. When we have tired ourselves, we will lie down and try to get a sleep, for an hour or two."

As they walked, they talked over their plans; and Oswald decided that, before daybreak, he would set out on the search for a place of concealment.

"I will leave my helmet and breast and back piece behind me," he said, "and will take your staff. Then, if I am caught sight of by any party in the distance, I shall look like a shepherd; while, had I on my iron harness, they would at once suspect me of being of the party, even though I were alone. As for you, your monk's robe would be detected, miles off."

"I could leave it behind me," Roger said.

"You have not much on underneath, Roger; and your bareness, in such weather as this, would be as noticeable as your gown. Mind, before it gets light, get the ladies up, and carry our bag of victuals and the water skin over the crest. You may be sure that, as soon as it is light, there will be many sharp eyes watching the hillside, all along here."

The man who had come up with them had already wrapped himself in the blanket he had brought with him, had crawled in among the bushes, and was, as they could hear by his heavy breathing, already sound asleep. After a time Oswald said that, as they had nothing more to settle, he would try and get a few hours' rest. There was not the slightest fear of surprise, and Roger and he were not long before they were both sound asleep. Oswald woke two or three times and, at first sign of dawn, shook Roger.

"You had better wake the ladies, in a few minutes, Roger, and get them over the crest. Let their man, as soon as he has seen them, start at once, keeping along behind the ridge, and warn him not to go down into the valley until he is fully a mile beyond Parton. Tell him to look carefully along the road, before he begins to descend, and to see that it is clear. Even then, let him hide as much as may be, behind brushwood and rock, until he gets down. When he has swum the river, let him make a wide detour round Parton, so as to come down to the stables without being noticed.

"I shall not be very long away. 'Tis scarce likely, among these hills, that I shall find any place that we can crawl into; and I think we shall have to content ourselves with lying down among the heather. I must find a spot where no one, on any hill above, can look down on us. We shall be quite safe from any party moving along on the same level as ourselves."

Oswald had gone but a little distance, when he determined that no better place could be found than the plateau itself. This extended, for two or three hundred yards from the edge, looking down into the valley. Beyond, the ground sloped sharply down again into a deep hollow; and beyond, it was broken into rounded swells, rising one above another. A party lying among the heather, where he was standing, could not be seen by watchers from any other point. Moreover, it was most important that all should be in shelter before it was fairly daylight. He therefore, as soon as it was light enough to take in the principal features of the scene, hurried back to his companions.

"We can do no better, girls, than to lie down together, two hundred yards away. Pick your way through the bushes where they are thinnest, so as not to disturb them. Please be off at once, and choose a spot close to where the ground falls away, on the other side. Roger and I must tumble this shelter down, and scatter the sticks; for if anyone searching the hillside came along, he would guess that we had slept here, and there would be a hue and cry at once."

The man had left, sometime before, for the valley; having gone off as soon as he had spoken to the girls. Oswald and Roger ran down to the shelter, speedily threw the stones into a heap, and scattered the sticks; then, after glancing round to see that nothing had been left, they collected the blankets, provisions, and water skin; and, taking up these and Oswald's armour, ran in the direction that Oswald had pointed out to the girls.

The ground was thickly covered with heather, and they had to step carefully to avoid pressing it down. They reached the edge of the plateau without seeing the girls and, after looking round for a minute or two, Oswald called aloud.

He was answered by a merry laugh, and Jessie's head rose above the heather. They had, indeed, passed within five or six yards of the girls.

"That is good, indeed," Oswald said, as he lay down beside them. "If I could not see you, when I was sure that you were quite near, there is no fear of any searchers lighting upon you.

"The sun has just risen, and a mist still hangs on the top of the hills," he went on; "and I am convinced that we cannot have been seen, for men placed on the watch are sure to be high up on the hills, and it will be some time yet before the sun rises high enough to drive away the mist."

Although it was freezing sharply, they felt by no means cold as they lay, wrapped in their blankets, with the heather rising well above them, and sheltering them from a light breeze that had sprung up at sunrise. After chatting with the girls for a time, Roger and Oswald left them and, crawling along on their stomachs, got to the edge of the descent.

By this time the sun was well above the hills, the mist had cleared off, and they had an extensive view. From time to time they caught sight of groups of three or four mounted men moving about, searching the valleys; while single men, on foot, rambled over the hills.

"They are keeping up an active search, Roger. 'Tis well that we went no farther. They will scarce suspect us of lying close to the valley we left. I expect the main body has gone much farther. I have no doubt the Bairds have a couple of hundred men and boys out. They would call out every man and boy from their holdings, and most likely get a couple of score of men from their village, and perhaps twice as many from Parton. No doubt they will think that, if we came in this direction, we should, last night, have found our way to one of the tracks across the hills, and it is near these that their search will be the keenest. Fortunately, they cannot know that I am here, nor guess that it is to Yardhope that we intend to take them, and not to Hiniltie. Still, they may expect that we shall try to cross the border, and I fancy we shall scarcely get through without a fight."

"All the better," Roger grumbled. "My fingers tingle to bring down this staff on the head of some of the Bairds, after all the trouble they have given us."

They remained watching until it became dusk, except that, twice during the day, they crawled back and partook of a meal with the girls. The last time they joined them, Oswald said:

"Now, in half an hour it will be quite dark, and then we can safely get up and walk about for a bit. I am sure you must feel stiff, lying still so long."

"I have never kept quiet for so long a time, since I can remember," Jessie said, laughing.

"That shows that you have had no illnesses, Jessie. However, I shall be glad to get up and stretch my limbs, myself. Half an hour will be enough, and then we will have a good, long night. Another day of it, and I think it will be safe to start."

The next afternoon they saw a number of parties searching the hills, in all directions.

"I expect they have become convinced that we have not tried to get straight through, Roger, and are hunting back for us. It is as well that it will be dark in another half hour, and they will then have to give up their search, for the night. If there were a couple of hours more light, I should feel very uneasy."

"So should I, master. You and I would have little chance of mercy, if we fell into their hands. It might well be that, in their anger, they might slay the ladies, also."

"That would be like enough, Roger. However, there can be no chance of their coming here, before it is dark."

At nine o'clock they started, and made their way down, with some difficulty and many slips and falls, into the valley. Then they kept along near the river, till Oswald was sure they were close to the ford. He bade them halt here, and went forward alone. Before he had gone fifty yards, he nearly stumbled against a man.

"Is it you, John?"

"Yes, it is I."

"Is all well?"

"It is all well, but I had a fright, yesterday morning. The Bairds searched every cottage and hut over the hills, on this side, and they say their men rode almost as far as Galloway; but they gave up the search before they got here, feeling assured that they must have passed you, very soon after you left the hold, and you could never have got as far down as this."

"'Tis well they did not search, indeed," Oswald said. "Your story about the horses might do well enough, for those who have no interest in the matter, but it would never have done for the Bairds. All has been quiet today?"

"They seem to have given up searching on this side. I hear that they feel sure, now, the ladies have made for Hiniltie; and they have had great forces out among the hills, and feel confident that they must catch them soon."

"Have you got the horses saddled?"

"They are saddled, and brought down close to the road. Fergus is with them."

"Then bring them across, at once. The sooner we are off now, the better. Are there any of the Bairds' men in the town?"

"There are a few of them, but as no one has any idea that you are like to pass through there, they will not be on the lookout. Besides, all will have been among the hills, from daybreak this morning; and I expect, by this time, there is scarce a soul awake in Parton."

Oswald returned to the girls, and they went out together to the ford. In a couple of minutes the men were seen making their way across, riding two horses, and leading the others.

"We thank you heartily," Janet said, "for having so risked your lives for us; for, had you been caught with the four horses, they would at once have connected you with us, and it would have gone hard with you."

"We have been keeping away from the horses, yesterday and today, just going to a distance and lying down where, without being seen ourselves, we could watch anyone who went up to the farm. We could have done no good, and thought that it was better that we should be able to warn you, if they had come and taken the horses away."

After crossing the river, Fergus at once started, on foot, for Hiniltie.

They had already discussed how they should ride, and it had been settled that, at starting, Janet should ride the fourth horse; and that Jessie should ride behind the others, by turns. If an attack was threatened, Jessie was to mount behind her sister, and they were to take their place between Oswald and Roger, while their own man rode close behind them.

It was just ten o'clock as they rode through Parton. Not a light was to be seen. The whole place appeared wrapt in sleep. They went through at a walk, so that, if any heard them, they would suppose that it was a belated party of the searchers, and would give the matter no further thought.

After riding for a short distance, they put the horses into a trot. Four hours later they halted, at the point where the road down the Esk valley divided, one going to the ferry a few hundred yards farther on, while the other turned to the left, and followed the bank of the Liddel.

John had inquired about the ferry, and learned that the ferryboat no longer plied, as, since the troubles began, there was so little traffic that it did not pay the ferryman to remain there. As they had already decided to cross by the ford, four miles higher up, this did not matter. As none of them was aware of its exact position, they decided to wait where they were, until daylight.

Searching about, they found a deserted hut, with a shed adjoining it. The horses were led into this, and the party then gathered in the hut, and John struck a light, while Oswald and Roger broke up a fallen gate, and the fire was soon blazing. Although there was not the slightest chance of anyone travelling the road, at this hour, they hung one of the thick blankets across the window, thus keeping out the cold air, as well as preventing the light from being seen. Then the party lay down, the men taking it by turns to stand guard outside, being relieved every two hours.

As soon as day dawned they again mounted. It was about four miles' ride to the point where the road divided, one branch going towards the river, some seventy or eighty yards away. Here stood a square building of some size, used as a refuge by travellers who arrived when the Liddel was swollen, and the ford impracticable.

When the riders had come within a few yards of this building, two men, hearing the sound of horses' hoofs, came out. As their eye fell upon the party they gave a shout, ran out into the road, and drew their swords.

Roger and Oswald rode at them. Parrying a thrust of one of the men, Oswald cut him down; while Roger, with a tremendous blow from his staff, stretched the other man on the road.

"Ride on, girls! We will follow you," Oswald shouted.

Jessie was sitting behind John, and they and Janet dashed forward, and rode into the water. Oswald and Roger followed, as six men, armed with spear and sword, ran out from the house. Seeing that they were too late, the leader shouted to the others: "Fetch out the horses, and chase them!" and, before the party had gained the opposite bank, their pursuers dashed into the water.

"Don't press your horses too hardly," Oswald said, as they galloped along. "They are too close behind us for us to get help from any of the small villages, but they dare not follow us into Longtown, and we have barely a ten miles' ride."

They had some two hundred yards' start, and for the first four miles held their own; then their pursuers began to gain upon them. One of the horses was carrying double, and Roger and Oswald were both heavier than any of the moss troopers.

"We shall have a fight for it, Roger."

"That is just what I was thinking, master. Well, there are three of us; and, as there are only six of them, we ought not to have much trouble. John will be a match for one. Methinks you and I can each make short work of a man when they first come up; and with but three of them against two, it will be mere child's play."

The road was a narrow one, and little used; and, when they came to the foot of a sharp rise, Oswald called to those ahead to stop.

"Jump down, Jessie, and mount behind Janet, and ride on ahead. We will soon get rid of these fellows. Be quick!"

The moss troopers were now but seventy or eighty yards behind.

"I shall fight on foot," Roger said, as he leapt off his horse. "I want both hands, for this staff."

Turning his horse, and bidding John to do the same, Oswald reined back his animal three or four lengths; and when the Bairds' party were within twenty yards, touched it with his spur and dashed at them, meeting them just abreast of Roger. The first man he met thrust at him with his spear, but Oswald parried with his sword, and with a back-handed blow smote the man just under the chin, and he fell with a crash from his horse. At the same moment he heard a blow like that of a smith's hammer, as Roger's staff fell upon the steel cap of the first who attacked him.

John was less fortunate, for his opponent's spear struck him in the throat, and he fell heavily from his saddle.

"Well stricken, Jock!" one of them shouted. "Ride on after the women. We will settle with these fellows."

But before the moss trooper could obey the order, Oswald, with a touch of the spur and the bridle, caused his horse to curvet round, and smote the man so mighty a blow on the shoulder as well-nigh to sever his arm from his body. As he wheeled his horse again he was nigh unseated, by a spear thrust that struck him on the breast piece; but, upon recovering, he struck his opponent, as he passed, so heavy a blow in the face, with the pommel of his sword, that he sent him senseless to the ground.

The other two men had furiously attacked Roger, but, whirling his staff round his head, he had kept them both at bay; then the staff descended between the ears of one of the horses, which fell headlong; and before the rider could get his foot from the stirrup, the staff struck him below the steel cap, just in front of the ear, and without a cry he fell dead beside his horse. At that the last of the moss troopers turned his horse, and galloped off at full speed.

"We have not taken long over that, master," Roger said, with a grim smile. "Five men in a minute is not so bad."

"I am afraid John is killed, Roger. See to him."

"Ay, he is sped," Roger replied, as he turned the body over. "The spear struck him full in the throat. That is what comes of not learning to use your weapons. What shall we do with him?"

"He was a faithful fellow, Roger, and as there is no need for haste now, we will give him some sort of burial, and not let him lie here in the road."

"We have nought to dig a grave with," Roger remarked.

"No, but there are plenty of stones about."

He dismounted, and with Roger's help carried the dead man a short distance away, laid him down by the side of a great boulder, and then piled stones around and over him.

"That will do, Roger. 'Tis not like that anyone will disturb those stones, for years to come. He will rest as well there as if he lay in a grave. Now, let us look to the others."

The man he had struck across the throat, and the last Roger had hit, were both dead. Two of the others were but stunned, while the one upon whose shoulder Roger's blow had fallen was lying insensible, and evidently was fast bleeding to death.

"We can do naught for him," Oswald said. "Even had we the king's leech here, we could not save him. Now let us be off."

"Shall we take the horses, master?"

"No, they will be but an encumbrance; and now that poor fellow has gone, we have one apiece. Bring his horse along with you."

Mounting, they rode quickly on, and at the top of the hill came up with the girls; who, having seen the result of the combat, had waited for them.

"Now we are safe and free, thanks to you both," Janet said. "Jessie looked back, and saw the fight as we rode. How quickly it was over! But I am grieved, indeed, that John has fallen. We saw you carrying off his body, and covering it. Jessie had noticed him fall, and we feared 'twas all over with him. He was an old retainer of our father's, and a faithful one."

"I am sorry, indeed, that he has been slain, Janet; but we could hardly expect to come out altogether scatheless."

"Are all the others killed?" Jessie asked.

"No. Two of them are but stunned; and will, ere long, be able to mount and ride off again."

"Master Oswald has gained the most honours in the fight. I killed one, and stunned another. He has stunned one also, but has slain two."

"I had a better arm, Roger."

"I know not that," Roger replied. "A quarterstaff, of that weight, is a fine weapon. I say not that it is to be compared to a mace but, when on foot, I would as lief have it as a sword."

"Now, Jessie, do you mount John's horse. We can ride quietly, for Longtown is but some three miles ahead."

They rested there for a couple of hours, then mounted again, and crossed the Pentlands by a horse track between Cristindury and Gele Craigs. Coming down into Tynedale, they put up for the night at the first place they came to. At daybreak they set off northwards, crossed Reddesdale, and came down, in the afternoon, into the valley of the Coquet, within two miles of Yardhope.

Great indeed was the surprise and joy of John Forster and his wife, when they made out the two girls riding, with Oswald, towards the hold.

"What miracle is this, lad?" the former said, while his wife was embracing her nieces. "We heard, but two days since, of the raid on the Armstrongs, and how the girls were carried off by the Bairds."

Here Oswald put his finger to his lips, to stop him from saying aught of Jane Armstrong's death. He had, after dismounting, whispered in his mother's ear, before she had time to speak to the girls, that as yet they knew nought of their mother's death, and that he had left it to her to break it to them.

"I have been, since, scouring the country," his father went on, "to try to get my friends to take the matter up; but in truth, they were not over willing to do so. All know that it is no slight enterprise to attack the Bairds in their stronghold. We fared but badly, last time we went there, though that was but a blow and a retreat; but all know that the Bairds' hold is not to be taken like a country tower. 'Tis greatly bigger and stronger than ours, and scarce to be attempted save by a royal army; especially as the whole countryside would be swarming round us, in a few hours after we crossed the border. This time, too, it is no quarrel of my people; and, as they say, the risk would be indeed great, and the loss very heavy.

"I sent off a messenger this morning to Armstrong, to tell him that I feared I could not raise more than sixty spears; but with these I would ride to Hiniltie, and join any force he could collect, and try with him to surprise the Bairds' hold and rescue the girls, though it seemed to be a mighty dangerous enterprise."

"He will have learnt, yesterday morning, Father, that we have carried them off. We could have brought you the news last night, but to do so we must have ridden fast and, the girls being with us, we thought it were better to take two days over the journey. So we slept in Tynedale last night."

"And how did you manage it? For unless you and Roger flew into the Bairds' hold, and carried them off on your backs, I see not how it could be managed. Why, the place is so strong that even the Douglases have not cared to carry out the terms of the treaty, for the arrest of William Baird as a notorious breaker of the truce between the two countries."

"It was because I knew Armstrong deemed that it was scarce likely a force could be gathered, by you and his friends, strong enough to undertake such an enterprise, that we decided to rescue them by strategy. The affair turned out to be easy enough."

And he then related, in detail, the manner in which he and Roger had obtained entry into the hold, and had succeeded in rescuing his cousins.

"By the bones of Saint Oswald, from whom you got your name, lad," John Forster exclaimed, when he had finished his story, "you have carried out the matter marvellously well! Hotspur himself could not have contrived it better; and I own that I was wrong, and that that fancy of yours, to be able to read and write, has not done you the damage that I feared it would. Henceforth I will maintain, with all my might, that these things in no way tend to soften a man; but on the contrary, in some way sharpen his wits, and enable him to carry out matters with plans, and contrivances, such as would scarce be conceived by men who had not such advantage.

"But why do we not go inside?"

"I have been keeping you here, Father, because I doubt not that my mother has been breaking the news to the girls, of their mother's slaughter. I said nought to them about it. They knew the hold was burnt, and I told them that Allan was wounded; but I thought that, if I gave them the worst part of the news, it would throw them into such deep grief as to unfit them for the journey. It might not have been discovered till two hours after we had started that they had escaped, and in that case we should have been mounted before the Bairds overtook us, and it would have been a ride for life, and the girls would have needed all their strength and courage to keep them up."

"It was as well so, Oswald, and doubtless your mother will break it more easily to them than you could have done. Women are better at such things than men, who are given to speak, bluntly and straight, what has to be told."

Chapter 15: Another Mission To Ludlow.

While Oswald was talking with his father, Roger had taken the four horses round to the long shed, that ran along one side of the wall; and had there been telling the moss troopers the same story Oswald had been relating to his father, whom he now joined.

"Well, friend Roger," John Forster said as he came up, shaking him heartily by the hand; "by my faith, my son is fortunate in having so stout a fellow as his henchman."

"'Tis rather that I am fortunate in having him as a master," Roger replied. "I have but to strike as he bids me, and there is no need for me to think, for my brain bears no proportion to my bulk; and indeed, even in the matter of strength he bids fair to equal me, for he seems to me to grow taller and stronger every month; which is not surprising, seeing that you are, yourself, much beyond the common. In all this matter there is no credit due to me, save that I have, as faithfully as I could, carried out his orders."

"All men can try to carry out orders, Roger, but it is not all who can do it with intelligence. Doubtless, it has something to do with the book learning that you have, and in which you were his instructor."

"I think not that it is so, in any way, Master Forster," Roger replied quickly, for he liked not the thought that he had gained any advantage, whatever, from his stay in the convent. "It might likely be useful to a man of small stature, whose thoughts would naturally turn to being a scribe, and to making his living by such finicking ways instead of by bearing himself as a man should; but for one like myself, 'tis but time thrown away. Yet I say not that it may not be useful to Master Oswald, who will some day be a knight, and go to court, and have occasion to write letters, when he has no scribe at hand to do it for him; but a good downright blow is more advantage, to the man that strikes it, than all the book learning that he can get."

"I have done well enough without it, Roger; but I think that it must be of some use, else why is it that Oswald is so good at devising plans? Had I been in his place, when he heard the news of the harrying of Hiniltie, and the carrying off of Armstrong's daughters, I should never have thought of starting on such an adventure as he did."

"It may be that it may improve the mind, Master Forster, just as wielding a mace strengthens the muscles of the arm. I only speak from my own experience; and, so far as I can see, all the hours I spent on these matters have been as good as wasted."

"Nay, Roger," Oswald, who had been an amused listener to the conversation, broke in, "you have had evidence, but lately, that it is not so. Had you not been able to read the priest's missal, he would have seen, at once, that you were not a monk; but the fact that you did so, and that much better and more fluently than he could, himself, have read a strange manuscript, was to him a confirmation of your story; which not only enabled us to rescue my cousins, but probably saved your own skin, to say nothing of mine; for had Baird learned that you were deceiving him, he would as likely as not have hung us both over the gateway of his hold, as spies."

Roger scratched his head, in some embarrassment.

"I cannot gainsay it, Master Oswald, though I did not think of it before; and it is certainly a proof that the time I spent in learning was not thrown away; for, as you say, had I not been able to read that missal, doubtless it would have gone hard with both of us. I am not ashamed to own when I am wrong. It would not be English, or honest, not to do so. Reading certainly came in mightily useful, there."

"And you must also remember, Roger," Oswald said with a smile, "that if it had not been that you read and wrote, better than most of the other monks, the abbot would not have picked you out as my instructor, I should not have asked for you to come with me to Scotland, and Sir Henry Percy would never have begged the abbot to allow you to go forth into the world."

"Say no more, Master Oswald--never again will I say a word against reading and writing--I see that they are excellent things, and it never entered my thick head how greatly I have benefited by acquiring them--but will maintain, against all who say the contrary, that they are of great value; and that they in no way tend to soften a man, as I can prove in my own person, and also in yours."

At this moment, Mary Forster appeared at the top of the steps.

"Supper is ready," she said. "I have broken the news to the girls. They are quite broken hearted, poor things, and I have sent them to bed.

"I suppose you are not leaving us, tomorrow morning, Oswald?"

"No, I shall be off at daybreak, the next day. I must not stay longer, for I ought to have been back three days ago, and Sir Henry will be wondering what has befallen me."

Talking the matter over, that evening, as to what had best be done with the girls, Mary Forster said that they had expressed great anxiety to get back, as soon as they could, in order that they might try and comfort their father, and nurse Allan; and John Forster said that he would ride with them, with four of his men, to Hiniltie, in a day or two. The next evening, however, there was a knock at the outside gate; and on its being opened, Adam Armstrong himself entered.

"I could not rest, for thinking of the girls," he said, as he entered the house. "The man arrived safely, yesterday morning, after having, with great difficulty, made his way unobserved through the Bairds, who had some fifty or sixty men scattered, all over the hills."

"Do you go to them, Wife, and tell them that their father has arrived.

"They have been terribly upset," John went on, as his wife left the room. "They were only told of the loss of their mother after they arrived, yesterday. Oswald thought that they would need all their strength for the journey, and that it were better that Mary should break the news to them, when they got here. We have all felt for you sorely, Adam, since your messenger brought the news."

Armstrong pressed his hand, silently.

"She was a good wife to me, John, a right good wife. We buried what seemed to be her remains, yesterday morning. It was that, that kept me from starting the moment the man came in with the news that Oswald had got the girls out of the hands of the Bairds."

"And how is Allan?"

"I trust he will get right, now. He has come partly to his senses, though he is still dazed. We had him carried, in a litter, to the monastery where I obtained the monk's robe for your man; for I feared to leave him in the village, lest the Bairds, furious at the escape of the girls, might return to finish their work."

He was about to speak to Oswald, when the door opened, and the girls ran in, and it was some time before Adam Armstrong again turned to him.

"Now, lad," he said, "do not think, because I am a long time coming to the point, that I think lightly of the service you have rendered me. Ah, lad! I could scarce believe my ears, when Fergus told me that you and your henchman had got the lasses out of the Bairds' hands, and had gone off on horseback with them. I had to put the question, again and again, as to whether he was sure that it was really the girls you had with you. It seemed to me to be altogether impossible; but I had to believe him, at last, though how it came about he could not tell me."

"We had no time for talking," Oswald said. "Every moment was of importance. But the matter was simple enough, and worth but a few words' telling."

And he then related the manner in which he and Roger had obtained entrance to the hold, and had succeeded in getting the girls away.

"It sounds simple enough, in the telling," Armstrong said; "but it needed stout hearts, and good nerves, to enter the Bairds' den on such an errand. You carried your lives in your hands, and well must you have borne out your story, to have passed without suspicion. It was well thought of, indeed, and well carried out, and would have done credit to the boldest and craftiest leader on the border.

"What say you, John?"

"I am proud of him, Adam. As for myself, I should never have thought of such a plan. If I had had the matter in hand, I might have taken twenty stout fellows, and tried to scale the walls unseen, and to fall upon them with spear and sword, and in the confusion carry the girls off; but it would have been a desperate plan, with but small hope of success."

"Small indeed, John, small indeed," Armstrong said, shaking his head. "With prisoners in the hold, the Bairds were not likely to be caught sleeping; and had they been, accustomed to surprises as they are, the whole garrison would have been afoot in a minute, and not a man of ye would have lived to tell the story. Some such mad thought passed through my brain, when I first heard the news, but it was not for long. Even with your spears, and others you might gather, and all my friends in Tweeddale, we should have had but a small chance of capturing the Bairds' hold. We should have had all Annandale and Nithsdale down on us, before we could have done it. At any rate, we should have had to bide our time, and wait until the Bairds were away to England with all their dalesmen; and by that time, none could say what would have become of the girls. In fact, there was but one way of doing it, and that is the way Oswald hit upon.

"Well, lad, I fear I shall never have an opportunity of repaying the debt I owe you; but after this, there is not an Armstrong on the border, on our side or yours--for we are half English and half Scotch--but will hold you as among our closest of kin, and will give you welcome and aid, whensoever you may need it. And where is your man Roger?"

"I will call him," Oswald said and, stepping to the door, he shouted to his follower; who came out, at once, from one of the outhouses occupied by the retainers of the hold.

"Come up, Roger!" Oswald said; "Master Armstrong wishes to see you."

Roger came up and, as he entered, Adam grasped him by the hand.

"Whenever your time for fighting is over, my brave fellow, remember that there is a home for you at Hiniltie, so long as an Armstrong dwells there. I thought, when I fetched that monk's gown for you, that you and my nephew Oswald might be able to gather some news; and let me know, possibly, how the girls were faring; but little did I think that, alone and unaided, you would rescue them from the hands of the Bairds."

"It was a merry business, Master Armstrong, and pleased me hugely, save that it went against my heart to have this bald patch on my head again, just when the hair had so well grown and covered it; but it was well nigh as good as fighting, to trick the Bairds in their own hold, when they, as they thought, were so mightily sure that I was but a harmless brother of a monastery. For the rest, it was an easy business, and scarce worth talking of."

"It was done easily because it was done well, Roger. It was well planned, and well carried out."

"I had nought to do with the planning, and the carrying out was simple enough. There were those there who tested me, as to my knowledge of Dunbar, and of the monastery I came from, and who further tested my knowledge of reading. Once assured that my story was true, they paid no further attention to me, believing that I should stay but a day or two, to rest myself on my way south."

"You had occasion, however, to use that heavy staff you carried."

"Some slight occasion, but I would that I had had the chance to have used it on the heads of some of the Bairds. For what little I did, master Armstrong, your daughters thanked me very prettily, and more than enough; and therefore, I pray thee, say no more of it.

"And how is your son?"

"He is going on well, and both Meg Margetson and the monks, in whose hands I have put him, say that they hope he is out of danger."

The next morning Oswald and Roger mounted, soon after daybreak, and rode to Alnwick. It had, the night before, been arranged that the girls should, for the present, remain at Yardhope; until the hold at Hiniltie was repaired, and put in a state of stronger defence. It was agreed, too, that it was as well that no word should be said by Armstrong, on his return, as to the whereabouts of his daughters, as the Bairds might then, in their anger, make an attack on Yardhope; whereas, at present, they could have no reason whatever for suspecting that they were there, and, if they obtained news that they were not with their father at Hiniltie, would suppose that they had been lodged with some of the family elsewhere, or perhaps placed for safety in Jedburgh.

"I had wondered what had become of you," Hotspur said, when Oswald entered his apartments, to report his return. "I expected you two or three days since, and I indeed wanted you, for other business."

"I am sorry, my lord; but after having fulfilled the orders you gave me, to the governors of Roxburgh and Jedburgh, I became engaged in an affair of my uncle, Adam Armstrong, of so pressing a character that I deemed you would excuse me, when you heard its nature."

And he then briefly related how he had been occupied, since leaving Jedburgh.

"'Tis a good excuse, indeed," Hotspur said, "and you must tell me more of it this evening, when the earl and my wife can also hear it. As to the business I spoke of, it is of no consequence at all; it was but to carry a message to the Earl of Westmoreland. This I have now sent, by another hand."

The winter passed quietly. Oswald's work was light. He more than once rode home for a few days, and once paid a visit to Hiniltie.

Here a number of men were at work. The exterior walls had in no way suffered, and the shell of the central building had so far resisted the fire, that it was not necessary to rebuild it. The roof and floors had been replaced, and the defences considerably strengthened. A portcullis had been placed above the door; so that, in case of the outer wall being carried, or the gate forced, it could at once be lowered. A projecting battlement had been thrown out over this, with openings below, through which boiling lead and pitch could be poured on an enemy trying to break in. Flanking turrets, for archers, had been built at each corner of the house; and the exterior walls had been strengthened by towers, in the centre of each face, and on either side of the gateway.

"We shall be safe now, I think, Oswald," said Allan, who had almost recovered. "The place can hardly be taken by a sudden attack, even by all the forces the Bairds could bring against it; and we could get help from Jedburgh, long before they could gain even the outside wall. My father and I are going, in a fortnight, to fetch the girls. I rode over there a week or two since, and found them looking very well and happy, with your people; but of course they are anxious to get back again, especially as you are so seldom at home."

"If you will fix the day before I go, I will try to be there to meet you. I suppose, as soon as spring sets in fairly, we shall be having troubles again, and it is certainly as well that Janet and Jessie should be at home again before they begin; for although Yardhope is strong enough to resist any attack by the Bairds, or any other border rangers, it can scarcely hold out against a regular invasion."

Four days after his return to Alnwick, Oswald was sent for by Percy.

"The Scots do not seem to be moving yet," the latter said, "but Glendower is ever increasing in strength, and boldness. I have received startling news this morning. A party of Welshmen were seen near Ruthyn, and Earl Grey, with a body of mounted men, rode out against them. They retired at once, and he, briskly pursuing, fell into an ambush and was captured.

"'Twould have been thought that Glendower would have put his chief enemy to death, at once, but it was not so, and it is said he holds the earl to ransom. Glendower has plenty of men, but no doubt needs money sorely. He can draw no revenue from his estates in Denbigh, and those in South Wales cannot suffice for the expenses of feeding the body of men, always under arms. Doubtless he will ask for a great sum, and 'tis like that he will get it. Grey is a favourite of the king, and the latter will doubtless aid him, for he needs his services to hold Flint and Denbighshire against the Welsh.

"Moreover, methinks that the king would, for another reason, make every effort to buy Lord Grey's freedom; for it is no secret that he has no great love for Mortimer; for although he holds the young Earl of March a prisoner, at Windsor, he cannot forget that the lad is the rightful heir to the throne, and that the friends of Richard would place him there, had they the opportunity. Mortimer is the boy's uncle and, not only from his own estates, but as guardian of the young earl's wide possessions in Hereford and in Shropshire, is a very powerful noble.

"The king has no real reason for doubting him, for I know that Mortimer has no thought of supporting the Earl of March's claim to the throne; having held, with the rest of the kingdom, that Henry, who is wise and politic, is a far fitter ruler than the lad could be. Doubtless, Henry is well aware of this, but he sees that when the young earl grows to manhood he might become dangerous; and might supplant him, as he supplanted Richard. Thus, then, I have no doubt the king will use every effort to obtain the release of Lord Grey, in order that he may act as a counterpoise, in the Welsh marches, to the influence of Mortimer.

"However, that is not now the question. It is evident, by this daring deed of Glendower, that he will be busy this year; and the success of his first attempt will assuredly add to his following. Therefore, as the Scots are, at present, quiet, I would that you ride again to Ludlow, and sojourn there a while.

"Sir Edmund sends me but scant news, and I would fain know more closely how matters are going there, and how great this insurrection is like to grow. It may well be that the Scots, seeing how powerful Glendower is becoming, will enter into agreement with him, that while he invades the west country, they shall pour across the border with all their forces; in which case we should be hard pressed, for the king's power in the south might be fully engaged against the Welsh, and we should have to battle with the whole strength of Scotland, alone. Therefore, write at length, giving me full reports of the talk of the country as to the bearing of the Welsh, not only beyond the border, but those settled in the west counties.

"You will, of course, take the fighting monk with you; and he can aid you in this matter, being a good scholar, though a bad monk; so, when you are weary of holding the pen, you can dictate the matter to him. I will send two well-mounted couriers with you, and will have relays of horses placed on the road, so that you can despatch me a letter once a week; and they will also, of course, carry any letters Sir Edmund Mortimer may wish to send."

"Very well, Sir Henry. Shall I start today?"

"Nay, the matter is not so urgent as all that."

"Then I will ride tomorrow morning."

"Good.