Mayor's daughter, I
shall be his who gaineth the day! Stand forward, Patrick Hume and Governor
Wallace."

"Bravo!" shouted the burghers, delighted with a scheme that smacked so
sweetly of justice and safety.

All eyes were now turned on the Captain; and Isabel, delighted with her
scheme, was seen concealing her face with the corner of her cloak, to
suppress her laughter. The Captain saw, however, neither justice nor safety
in the scheme, and, edging near the Mayor, whispered into his ear his
intention not to fight. Palpable indications of fear were escaping from his
trembling limbs, and the hero of Bothwell was on the eve of being
discovered. Hume was prepared--he stood, sword in hand, ready for the
combat.

"Come forward, Captain!" cried the Bastard.

"Come forward!" resounded from Isabel, and a hundred voices of the
burghers.

"I am the Governor of Berwick," answered the hero, in a trembling voice,
keeping the body of the Mayor between him and Hume. "As the servant of the
King, I dare not" (panting) "run the risk of reducing my
authority--by--by--engaging, I say, by committing myself in single combat,
like a knight errant, for a runaway damsel. It comporteth not with my
dignity--hegh--hegh--I say, I cannot come down from the height of my glory
at Bothwell, by committing myself in a love brawl. But ye are my
men--hegh--hegh--ye are bound to fight when I command. Do your duty--on,
on, I say, to the rescue."

"We want not the wench," responded many voices. "He that will not fight for
his love, deserves to lose her for his cowardice." "Resign her, good
Mayor," cried others. "Give the damsel her choice," added others. "Bravo,
good fellows!" cried Bell, in the midst of her laughter; and a shout from
Hume's men rewarded her spirit. The enthusiasm was caught by the
Berwickers, some of whom, observing certain indications thrown out by
Isabel, ran forward and got from her a flagon of good wine. The vessel was
handed from one to another. "Hurra for Hume!" shouted the Berwickers. The
tables were turned. All, to a man, were with Isabel and her partner. The
Mayor had sense enough to see his position. In any way he was to lose his
daughter, and he heartily despised the coward that would not fight for his
love.

"Hume," he cried, standing forward, "come hither; and, Isabel, approach the
side of thy father."

The laughing damsel ran forward, and, perceiving her absolute safety, flung
herself on her father's neck, and hung