vise thee to tempt not thy fate, for even thy minstrel
garb, an thou braggest of thy service to the Bruce, I cannot promise to
be thy safeguard in Edward's court, whither I give ye notice I wend my
way to-morrow's dawn. For this child, what wouldst thou--hath he no
voice, no power of his own to speak?"

The aged minstrel looked at his charge, whose eyes were still bent on
the floor; the heaving of his doublet denoted some internal emotion, but
ere the old man could answer for him, he had made a few hasty steps
forward, and bent his knee before Hereford.

"'Tis a simple boon I crave, my lord," he said, in a voice so peculiarly
sweet, that it seemed to impart new beauty to his features; "a very
simple boon, yet my lips tremble to ask it, for thou mayest deem it more
weighty than it seemeth to me, and thou alone canst grant it."

"Speak it, fair child, whate'er it be," replied the earl, reassuringly,
and laying his hand caressingly on the boy's head. "Thou art, methinks,
over young to crave a boon we may not grant; too young, although a
Scotsman, for Hereford to treat thee aught but kindly. What wouldst
thou?"

"Permission to tend on my young lord, Sir Nigel Bruce," answered the
boy, more firmly, and for the first time fixing the full gaze of his
beautiful eyes on the earl's face. "Oh, my lord, what is there in that
simple boon to bid thee knit thy brow as if it must not be?" he added,
more agitated. "The noble Hereford cannot fear a child; or, if he
doubted me, he cannot doubt the honor of his prisoner, an honor pure,
unsullied as his own."

"Thou speakest not as the child thou seemest," replied Hereford,
musingly; "and yet I know not, misery makes sager of us long ere the
rose of youth hath faded. For this, thy boon, I know not how it may be
granted; it is not usual to permit other than English attendants on our
Scottish prisoners. Since Sir Niel Campbell's escape through the agency
of his Scottish attendant, it hath been most strictly prohibited."

"Oh, do not, do not say me nay!" entreated the boy; "I ask but to share
his imprisonment, to be with him, serve him, tend him. I ask no more
liberty than is granted unto him; the rudest, coarsest fare, a little
straw, or the bare ground beside his couch. I can do naught to give him
freedom, and if I could, were there an open path before him--did I
beseech him on my knees to fly--if he hath surrendered, as I have heard,
to thee, rescue or no rescue, he would scorn my cou