the approach of an enemy than for the ankles of
the women-folk at the turnings of the turret stairs."
To these and many other maxims out of the incorporate wisdom of the
elders, Sholto promised most faithful attendance, and, for the time
being, he fully intended to keep his word. But no sooner was his
father gone, and he introduced to his new quarters and duties by David
Douglas, the Earl's younger brother, than he began to wonder which was
the window of Maud Lindesay's chamber and speculate on how soon he
would see her thereat.
In the castle of Thrieve that night there was little sleeping room to
spare. The Earl and his brother lay wrapped in their plaids in one of
the round towers of the outer defences. In the castle hall the
retainers of the French ambassador slept side by side, or heads and
tails with the archers of the house-guard. Lights flickered on the
turnpike stair which led to the upper floors. The servitors had
cleared the great hall, and here on a dais, raised above the "marsh"
and sheltered by an arras curtain hastily arranged, James the Gross
slept on a soft French bed, which he had caused to be brought all the
way from his castle of Strathavon on the moors of Lanarkshire.
In the Earl's chamber on the third floor was lodged the Marshal de
Retz. Next him ranged the apartment of the countess. Here also was the
Lady Sybilla at the end of the passage in the guest chamber which
looked to the north, and from the windows of which she could see the
broad river dividing itself about the castle island, and flowing as
calmly on as if the stern feudal pile had been a peaceful monastery
and the waving war banners no more than so many signs of holy cross.
Above, in the low-roofed chambers, which gave upon the wooden balcony,
were the apartments of Maud Lindesay and her charge, little Margaret
Douglas, the Fair Maid of Galloway.
Now the single postern stair of the castle was shut at the foot, where
it opened out upon the hall of the guard by a sparred iron gate, the
key of which was put into Sholto's charge. The night closed early upon
the castle-ful of wearied folk. The marshals of the camps caused the
lights to be put out at nine-of-the-clock in all the tents and
pavilions, but the lamps and candles burned longer in the castle
itself, where the Earl had been giving a banquet to his guests, of
the best that his estates could afford. Nevertheless, it was yet long
before midnight when the cheep of the mouse in
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