Oswald, who was thoroughly fatigued with the events of the last thirty-six hours, slept soundly, on an armful of rushes that his host threw down in a corner of the room for him.

At eight o'clock, the man who had spoken to him on the previous evening came in.
"I have spoken to William Baird," he said.

"I told him that you seemed a likely fellow.

He called down the monk, and asked him several questions about you; and he told me, at last, that I could bring you up to see him.

So come along, at once." "Thanks, comrade," Oswald said, as he slung his long two-handed sword from his shoulder.
"A likely-looking young fellow, indeed," Baird said to Rotherglen, whom he had sent for to be present; "over six feet and, I should fancy, has not attained his full width.
"So you would fain take service with me ?" he said.
"I want a master," Oswald replied, "and from what I hear, I am more likely to see fighting, under you, than under any other on the border." "And you were with George Dunbar ?" "I was," Oswald replied.