."

"There, then, is my thumb, young braggart," exclaimed Sir Gideon, "that
I winna hinder ye in your choice; for to-morrow ye shall be exalted as
Haman was; and let those revenge your death who dare."

"Maister!--dear maister!" cried Simon, wringing his hands, "will ye
sacrifice me also, and break the hearts o' my puir wife and family!
O sir, accept o' Sir Gideon's proposal, and marry his dochter."

"Silence! ye milk-livered slave!" cried the young laird. "Do ye pretend
to bear the name o' Scott, and yet tremble like an ash leaf at the
thought o' death!"

"Ye will excuse me, sir," retorted Simon, "but I tremble at no such
thing; only, as I have already remarked, I have no particular ambition
for being honoured wi' the exaltation o' the halter; and, moreover, I
see no cause why a man should die unnecessarily, or where death can be
avoided. Sir Gideon," added he, "humble prisoner as I at this moment
am, and in your power, I leave it to you if ever ye saw ony thing in my
conduct in the field o' battle (and ye have seen me there) that could
justify ony ane in calling me either milk-livered or a coward? But, sir,
I consider it would be altogether unjustifiable to deprive ane o' life,
which is always precious, merely because my maister is stubborn, and
winna marry your daughter. But, oh, sir, I am not a very auld man yet,
and if ye will set me at liberty, though I am now a married man, in the
event o' my ever becoming a widower, I gie ye my solemn promise that I
will marry ony o' your dochters that ye please!"

"Audacious idiot!" exclaimed the old knight, raising his hand and
striking poor Simon to the ground.

"Sir Gideon Murray!" cried the young laird fiercely, "are ye such a base
knave as to strike a fettered prisoner! Shame fa' ye, man! where is the
pride o' the Murrays now?"

Sir Gideon evidently felt the rebuke, and, withdrawing from the
apartment, said, as he departed--"Remember that when the sun-dial shall
to-morrow note the hour of twelve, so surely shall ye be brought
forth--and a wife shall be your lot, or the wuddy your doom."

"Leave me!" cried the youth impatiently, "and the gallows be it--my
choice is made. Till my last hour trouble me not again."

"Sir! sir!" cried Simon, "I beg, I pray that ye will alter your
determination. There is surely naething so awful in the idea o'
marriage, even though your wife should have a face not particularly
weel-favoured. Ye dinna ken, sir, but that the young woman's