But they of Lanark are ill-set town-ward men, and of no true leal heart, save an it be to their own coffers.

Yet will they march with us for fear of the harrying hand and the burning roof tree." The sun rose fair on the battlements of Douglas Castle as Sholto rode up to the level mead, whereon a little company of men was exercising.
He could hear the words of command cried gruffly in the broad Galloway speech.

Landless Jock was drilling his spearmen, and as the shining triple line of points dropped to the "ready to receive," the old knight and former captain of the Earl's guard came forward a little way to welcome his successor with what grace was at his command.
"Eh, siree, and what has brocht sic a braw young knight and grand frequenter o' courts sae far as Douglas Castle?
Could ye no even let puir Landless Jock hae the tilt-yaird here to exercise his handfu' in, and keep his auld banes a wee while frae the rust and the green mould ?" But even as the crusty old soldier spoke these words, the white anxiety in Sholto's face struck through his half-humorous complaint, and the words died on his lips in a perturbed "What is't--what is't ava, laddie ?" Sholto told him in the fewest words.
"The Yerl and Dawvid in the power o' their hoose's enemies.

Blessed Saint Anthony, and here was I flighterin' and ragin' aboot my naethings.

Here, lads, blaw the horn and cry the slogan.