ld not bring himself to strike a sleeping man, even though waking him
might entail a doubtful conflict, for he could see that the trooper's
hand grasped the hilt of his naked sword. For a few moments he surveyed
the sleeper, as if calculating his chances, then he quietly dropped his
plaid, took off his coat, and untying his neckcloth, laid it carefully
on one side over a bush. Having made these preparations, he knelt
beside Will Wallace--for it was he--and grasped him firmly by the throat
with both hands.

As might have been expected, the young trooper attempted to spring up,
and tried to use his weapon; but, finding this to be impossible at such
close quarters, he dropped it, and grappled the farmer with all his
might; but Andrew, holding on to him like a vice, placed his knee upon
his chest and held him firmly down.

"It's o' nae manner o' use to strive, ye see," said Andrew, relaxing his
grip a little; "I've gotten ye, an' if ye like to do my biddin' I'll no
be hard on ye."

"If you will let me rise and stand before me in fair fight, I'll do your
business if not your bidding," returned Wallace in a tone of what may be
termed stern sulkiness.

"Div ye think it's likely I'll staund before you in fair fecht, as you
ca'd--you wi' a swurd, and me wi' a bit stick, my lad? Na, na, ye'll
hae to submit, little though ye like it."

"Give me the stick, then, and take you the sword, I shall be content,"
said the indignant trooper, making another violent but unsuccessful
effort to free himself.

"It's a fair offer," said Andrew, when he had subdued the poor youth a
second time, "an' reflec's favourably on yer courage, but I'm a man o'
peace, an' have no thirst for bloodshed--whilk is more than ye can say,
young man; but if ye'll let me tie yer hands thegither, an' gang
peaceably hame wi' me, I's promise that nae mischief'll befa' ye."

"No man shall ever tie my hands together as long as there is life in my
body," replied the youth.

"Stop, stop, callant!" exclaimed Andrew, as Will was about to renew the
struggle. "The pride o' youth is awful. Hear what I've gotten to say
to ye, man, or I'll hae to throttle ye ootright. It'll come to the same
thing if ye'll alloo me to tie ane o' _my_ hands to ane o' yours. Ye
canna objec' to that, surely, for I'll be your prisoner as muckle as
you'll be mine--and that'll be fair play, for we'll leave the swurd
lyin' on the brae to keep the bit stick company."

"Well, I agree to