the beginning of
their classes. So it was a most feasible-like thing, and indeed there
were a good many upon the roads. But Maisie Lennox kept out of their
company, for these wandering students are ever inclined to be goatish,
and full of impish pranks, whether as I saw them at Groningen or in
Edinburgh town.

So she (that was for the time being he) came riding into the town of
Moffat, just when the London state messenger was expected. There my lass
entered the hostelry of the White Hart, which was kept by a decent woman
named Catherine Cranstoun. As a ruffling young gallant, she strode in,
with her chest well out and one hand on the hilt of the rapier, which
she held modishly thrust forward. But Maisie, when she found herself
within, was a little daunted to see a great pair of pistols, a sword,
and other furniture of a King's rider lie upon the table. While from
within a little chamber, the door of which stood ajar, she heard the
sound as of one who sleeps, and snores sonorously in his sleep.

"A good day to ye, Mistress Cranstoun," said Maisie boldly, and most
like a clerkish student. "Will ye get me a drink of good caller water?"

"That," said the good wife shrewishly, turning her eyes scorningly
across her nose, "is not good asking at a change-house. I warrant we do
not live and pay our winter's oats by sellin' caller water to student
birkies!"

"So, good madam," said our Maisie again; "but if you will get me a drink
from your famous medicinal spring--a good fresh quart--most gladly I
will pay for it--aye, as if it had been claret wine of the best bin in
your cellar."

At hearing of which the landlady pricked up her ears.

"I will e'en gae bring it mysel'," she said in a changed voice, for such
orders came not every day. "It is for a wager," she thought. "The loons
are ever after some daft ploy."

As she went to the door she had a thought.

"Mind ye," she said, "meddle not wi' the pistols, for they belong to one
on the King's service."

So she set out to bring the water in a wooden cogie with a handle.

As soon as she was fairly gone, Maisie stole on tiptoe to the door of
the room whence the snoring proceeded. She peeped circumspectly within,
and there on a rough bed with the neck of his buff riding-coat thrown
open, lay the King's rider, a great clean shaven fellow with a cropped
head, and ear-rings in his ears. The edge of the mail bag peeped from
under the pillow, and the ribbons of seals showed bene