back farewells and jovial words long after he was out
of hearing. And even on the heights of Keltonmuir he still fluttered a
gay kerchief in his left hand.

Then Margaret Douglas went back within the gates, where her eyes fell
upon Maud Lindesay, coming through the castle yard to meet her. For
that morning she had not wished to encounter Sholto--at least not
among so many. The two maidens walked on together, and which was the
fairer, the black or the nut-brown, none could say who beheld them.

After a while Margaret Douglas sighed.

"I wonder which of them I like the best," she said.

Maud laughed a merry, scornful laugh in which was a world of superior
knowledge.

"You do not like either of them very much yet, or you would have no
difficulty about the matter!" said this wise woman.

"Well, I wonder which of them loves me best," she went on; "James
tells me of it a hundred times every day and all day. But William says
nothing. He only looks at me often, as if he disapproved of me. I am
over light for him, I trow. He thinks not of me."

Then after a pause she said, again with her finger on her lip, "I
wonder which of them would do most for my sake?"

"I know!" said Maud Lindesay, promptly.

* * * * *

With the young Avondales there had ridden forth Malise and his son
Laurence on their way to the Abbey of Dulce Cor. Sholto went also with
them to convoy them to the fords of Urr.

For Laurence was to be a clerk after all.

And this is the way he explained it.

"The Abbot cannot live long, and there is no Douglas to succeed him.
Then your little Maid will make me Abbot, if that Maud of yours does
her duty."

"She is not my Maud yet," sighed Sholto. For, as they say in Scotland,
the lady had proved "driech to draw up."

"But she will be in good time," urged Laurence, "and she must
persuade the Lady Margaret of my many and surprising virtues."

"The Lady Margaret hath doubtless seen these for herself. Were you not
bound beside her on the iron altar?" said Sholto.

"Yes, but I dirked the old witch-woman, or so they say. And that was
no clerkly action!" objected his brother.

"Fear not," said Sholto, "you have all of her favour you need without
working by means of another's petticoat. But how about marrying? You
cannot wed or woo if you are a clerk. You did not use to be so unfond
of a lass in the gloamings along the sweet strand called the Walk of
Lovers--you know where!"