tribute, and take assurance from him, as the phrase then went. Indeed, there was no power of resistance remaining, and the few barons, whose high spirit disdained even the appearance of surrender, could only retreat into the wildest fastnesses of the country, leaving their houses and property to the wrath of the English, who detached parties through the country to distress, by military exaction, those whose chiefs had not made their submission. The Abbot and his community having retreated beyond the Forth, their lands were severely forayed, as their sentiments were held peculiarly inimical to the alliance with England.

Amongst the troops detached on this service was a small party, commanded by Stawarth Bolton, a captain in the English army, and full of the blunt and unpretending gallantry and generosity which has so often distinguished the nation. Resistance was in vain. Elspeth Brydone, when she descried a dozen of horsemen threading their way up the glen, with a man at their head, whose scarlet cloak, bright armour, and dancing plume, proclaimed him a leader, saw no better protection for herself than to issue from the iron grate, covered with a long mourning veil, and holding one of her two sons in each hand, to meet the Englishman-state her deserted condition-place the little tower at his command-and beg for his mercy. She stated, in a few

brief words, her intention, and added, "I submit, because I have nae means of resistance."

"And I do not ask your submission, mistress, from the same reason," replied the Englishman. "To be satisfied of your peaceful intention is all I ask; and, from what you tell me, there is no reason to doubt them."

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At least, sir," said Elspeth Brydone, "take share of what our spence and our garners afford. Your horses are tired-your folk want refreshment."

"Not a whit-not a whit," answered the honest Englishman; " it shall never be said we disturbed by carousal the widow of a brave soldier, while she was mourning for her husband.-Comrades, face about.-Yet, stay," he added, checking his war-horse, " my parties are out in every direc tion; they must have some token that your family are under my assurance of safety. Here, my little fellow," said he, speaking to the eldest boy, who might be about nine or ten years old," lend me thy bonnet."

The child reddened, looked sulky, and hesitated, while the mother, with many a fye and nay pshaw, and such sarsenet chidings as tender mothers give to spoiled children, at length succeeded in snatching the bonnet from him, and handing it to the English leader.

Stawarth Bolton took his embroidered red cross

from his barret-cap, and putting it into the loop of the boy's bonnet, said to the mistress, (for the title of lady was not given to dames of her degree,) " By this token, which all my people will respect, you will be freed from any importunity on the part of our forayers." He placed it on the boy's head; but it was no sooner there, than the little fellow, his veins swelling, and his eyes shooting fire through tears, snatched the bonnet from his head, and, ere his mother could interfere, skimmed it into the brook. The other boy ran instantly to fish it out again, threw his brother's bonnet back to him, first taking out the cross, which, with great veneration, he kissed, and put into his bosom. The Englishman was half diverted, half surprised, with the scene.

"What mean ye by throwing away Saint George's red cross ?" said he to the elder boy, in a tone betwixt jest and earnest.

"Because Saint George is a southern saint,” said the child sulkily.

"Good" said Stawarth Bolton. "And what did you mean by taking it out of the brook again, my little fellow?" he demanded of the younger. "Because the priest says it is the common sign of salvation to all good Christians.”

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Why, good again!" said the honest soldier. "I protest unto you, mistress, I envy you these boys. Are they both yours?"

Stawarth Bolton had reason to put the question,

for Halbert Glendinning, the elder of the boys, had hair as dark as the raven's plumage, black eyes, large, bold, and sparkling, that glittered under eyebrows of the same complexion; a skin deep embrowned, though it could not be termed swarthy, and an air of activity, frankness, and determination far beyond his age. On the other hand, Edward, the younger brother, was light-haired, blue-eyed, and of fairer complexion, in countenance rather pale, and not exhibiting that rosy hue which colours the sanguine cheek of robust health. Yet the boy had nothing sickly or ill-conditioned in his look, but was, on the contrary, a fair and handsome child, with a smiling face, and mild, yet cheerful eye.

The mother glanced a proud motherly glance, first at the one, and then at the other, ere she answered the Englishman, Surely, sir, they are both my children."

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"And by the same father, mistress ?" said Stawarth; but, seeing a blush of displeasure arise on her brow, he instantly added, "Nay, I mean no offence; I would have asked the same question at any of my gossips in Merry Lincoln.-Well, dame, you have two fair boys; I would I could borrow one, for Dame Bolton and I live childless in our old hall.-Come, little fellows, which of you will go with me?"

The trembling mother, half-fearing as she spoke, drew the children towards her, one with either hand,

while they both answered the stranger. "I will not go with you," said Halbert boldly," for you are a false-hearted southern; and the southerns killed my father; and I will war on you to the death, when I can draw my father's sword."

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God-a-mercy, my little levin-bolt," said Stawarth, "the goodly custom of deadly feud will never go down in thy day, I presume.-And you, my fine white-head, will you not go with me, to ride a cock

horse?"

"No," said Edward, demurely, “ for you are a heretic."

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Why, God-a-mercy still," said Stawarth Bolton. Well, dame, I see I shall find no recruits for my troop from you; and yet I do envy you these two little chubby knaves." He sighed a moment, as was visible, in spite of gorget and corslet, and then added, " And yet, my dame and I would but quarrel which of the knaves we should like best, for I should wish for the black-eyed rogue-and she, I warrant me, for that blue-eyed, fair-haired darling. Natheless, we must brook our solitary wedlock, and wish joy to those that are more fortunate.-Serjeant Brittson, do thou remain here till recalled-protect this family, as under assurance -do them no wrong, and suffer no wrong to be done to them, as thou wilt answer it.-Dame, Brittson is a married man, old and steady; feed