He honly
kissed the gal, as any man would. If ye want to cut off somebody's
'ed, cut off mine. I ain't afride!" There was such genuine pluck in
this, and it formed so fine a contrast to the other's craven attitude
(forgive me, Your Honour; but you want the truth!), that I was glad
he was an Englishman, too. The mountaineers recognized his spirit,
and saluted with their handjars, even Michael amongst the number.
Half turning his head, the little man said in a fierce whisper:

"Buck up, guv'nor! Get up, or they'll slice ye! 'Ere's Mr. Rooke;
'e'll see ye through it."

By this time the men were amenable to reason, and when I reminded
them that Mr. Melton was Your Honour's cousin, they put aside their
handjars and went about their work. I asked Mr. Melton to follow,
and led the way to the Castle.

When we got close to the great entrance within the walled courtyard,
we found a large number of the servants gathered, and with them many
of the mountaineers, who have kept an organized guard all round the
Castle ever since the abducting of the Voivodin. As both Your Honour
and the Voivode were away at Plazac, the guard had for the time been
doubled. When the steward came and stood in the doorway, the
servants stood off somewhat, and the mountaineers drew back to the
farther sides and angles of the courtyard. The Voivodin had, of
course, been informed of the guest's (your cousin) coming, and came
to meet him in the old custom of the Blue Mountains. As Your Honour
only came to the Blue Mountains recently, and as no occasion has been
since then of illustrating the custom since the Voivode was away, and
the Voivodin then believed to be dead, perhaps I, who have lived here
so long, may explain:

When to an old Blue Mountain house a guest comes whom it is wished to
do honour, the Lady, as in the vernacular the mistress of the house
is called, comes herself to meet the guest at the door--or, rather,
_outside_ the door--so that she can herself conduct him within. It
is a pretty ceremony, and it is said that of old in kingly days the
monarch always set much store by it. The custom is that, when she
approaches the honoured guest (he need not be royal), she bends--or
more properly kneels--before him and kisses his hand. It has been
explained by historians that the symbolism is that