hinny--wheesht," said he; "dinna be talking havers.
Just stand you here--there's not the smallest danger--I'll be back to ye
in ten minutes or a quarter of an hour at the utmost--ye may tak my word
upon that."

"Andrew!" cried she, "are ye out o' yer mind a'thegither--or do ye want
to put me out o' mine! I really think it looks like it! O man, would ye
be guilty o' murdering yoursel, I may say!--come awa--come awa,
dear--for I'll no stand to see it."

"Hoot, Janet, hinny," returned he, "come, dear, dinna be silly."

Now, the number of the Highland party was completed, and they stood, a
band of hardy, determined, and desperate-looking men; but the party of
the Borderers was one deficient.

"Is there not another," cried the herald, "to stand forth, and maintain
with his sword the honour and courage of the Borders?"

"Yes! here am I!" shouted Andrew, and drawing Janet's arm from his;
"now, dearest," added he, hastily, "just hae patience--just stand here
for ten minutes--and I'll let ye see what I can do."

She would have detained him; but in a moment he sprang into the
amphitheatre, and exclaimed--

"Now, Sir Knights, ye that hae been trying yer hands at the tourneyings,
will ony o' ye hae the guidness to obleege me wi' the loan o' yer sword
for a wee while, and I'll be bond for ye I'll no disgrace it--I'll try
the temper o' it in earnest."

Andrew instantly had a dozen to choose upon; and he took his place
amongst the Borderers.

When he joined them, those who knew him, said--"The day is ours--Andrew
is a host in himsel."

The marshals gave the signal for the onset; and a deadly, a savage
onset it was. Swords were shivered to the hilt. Men, who had done each
other no wrong, who had never met before, grasped each other by the
throat--the Highland dirk and the Border knife were drawn. Men plunged
them into each other--they fell together--they rolled, the one over the
other, in the struggles and the agonies of death. The wounded strewed
the ground--they strove to crawl from the strife of their comrades. The
dead lay upon the dying, and the dying on the dead. Death had reaped a
harvest from both parties; and no man could tell on which side would lie
the victory. Yet no man could stand before the sword-arm of
Andrew--antagonist after antagonist fell before him. He rushed to every
part of the combat; and wheresoever he went, the advantage was in favour
of the Borderers. He was the champion of the field--the hero of