A Stampede In 1524

" And you'll no' give me ono good woid, Elsie ? You'll not even speak to me '" The questioner was a tall, handsraue man, though soinewhat worn-lookiug, and decidedly shame-faced. The person he addressed was a winsome lassie of souje seventeen years, who had come to the well-head, where a small stream of pure water trinkled through a rude spout iuserted in a crevice of the rock. Elsie had put down her pitcher and was waiting tor it to fill, leaning meanwhile with hoth arms on the rude stone wall which protected the spring from the encroachinents of the cattle, and looking every where but at the speaker. " You'll no' even look at me !" repeated Duncan Scott, wistfully, " and this perhaps the last time we'U ever meet by the well-side, where we have spent so many happy hours. Won't you just speak to me, Elsie ?" " That will I no' '." ariswered Elsie, turning on him with womanly indignation and more than womanly incousistenöy. " That will I no', Duiican Scott ! I wonder you daré so much as look at me after what you said, and whit you evened me to the last time we methere. I thirik it shame that ever I cared for the likes of you.'' To judge from his face, Duncan seerned to find comfort even in these sharp words : " But, Elsie, woman - " " I'll hear nothing, Duncan - not a word '" interrupted Elsie, her blue eyes flashing h're at the remeinbiance of her wrongs. " I'll never wed a ealous-pated fooi. And jealous of whomV" she asked in a tone of the utmost scorn : " Of my own foster-brother that was nursed at the breast of my mothet ! I wonder you did na' think of Habbie, or poor witless Michael in the ingle-nook." "But, Elsie, would you but listen - " " No, I'll no' listen. For what suld I listen r1" " But you might teil me how it was, Elsie 't You might say a word to explain what you were doing with young Ferniehurst so late at e'en:'" Again Elsie turned on him. "Explain 'r1 - and what for suld I explain, or what right haye you to think any explanation neededV Is not Ferniehurst my own foster-brother, as I told you, and as you knew well enough? And is not that the same as mine own brother, and more '{ But I will explain," said the poor girl, forcing back the tears which were too ready to run over : " Ferniehurst loves bonny Mary, Harden's daughter, that'8 away in Edinboro' with her aunt for safety ; and knowing me to be an old friend and playmate of the young leddy's, he gave me a letter and token for her, against her coming home, knowing that no man's life is Rafe for a day, with the English camped here in our very midst. So there ye have the tale, and much good may it do you. No, no ! You needn't try to come 'round me that gate, Duncan !' she added in a firm but scornful tone, withdrawing the haud that Duncan would have taken. " All's over between us. I have borne much ere this from your jealous humor, but I'll bear no more. I'll have naught to say to any man who can cali me what you called me that night. Go your ways - with whom you will. I wish you no UI, but all the good in the world ; but you are no more aught to me nor I to you ! Fare ye well 1" So saying, Elsie took up her pitcher, which had been for some time brimming over, and walked down the path, without so much as casting a look behind. Dunoan seemed to feel that his cause was hopeless, for he followed sorrowfully enough, and did not even attempt to speak again. Tweeddale, in Scotland, at no time before the eighteenth century a very safe or i quiet place of residence, was peouliarly unhappy in the year 1524. The English ariny, under Surry, was encamped near Jedburgh, which place the Admiral so screly burned and wasted that no garrison nor none othei should be lodged there. From their canips the English made forays and incursions on all sides, burning, wasting and plundering all that caine in their way. The Scots, "even their enemies themselves being judges," made a brave resistance, and accörding to Surry's own account they gave their invaders plenty of work, and " kept them in so perpetual gkirmish" as the Lord Admiral " never saw the like." The littln farm - if farm it could be called - of Craigend, had hitherto escaped the spoilers. It lay thoroughly sheltered from notice in a nook of the hills, where the steep braes, receding from a small and rapid stream, left room for a nieadow or levfil space of some sixty acres in extent. At the upper end of this tract of fertile land, stood the peal or tower of Craigend, a rude building of rough stone, three stories in height, surrounded by a wall and out-buildings, the latter constructed chiefly of mud and turf, and serving as a shelter for the cattle at night. Not far from the tower, the stream tumbled over a precipice in a considerable cascade, and alter winding from side to side of the valley, it issued at the lower end through a pass so narrow, intricate and precipitous, that five resolute men might easily hold it against a hundred. The holder of thislittle fortalice was Halbert Scott, or Httlbert of Craig-end, a retainer of the laird of Ferniehurst, who in his turn owed feudal service to the lord of Buccleugh. Hulbert was an oíd man, unable to bear arms, but his two sons. Auibrose and David, were with their lord, helping to garrison the stronghold of Ferniehurst, which lay but u. i'ow miles distant aoross the hills. Duncan Boott was Elsie's cousin, and her betrothed' lover. This was by no means their first quarrel, for Duncan was jealous and Elsie was proud, but never had matters gone so fur between them as I now. Never had Elsie shown herself so implacable. Her anger was not wholly unreasonable, for Duncan had done her grievous wrong. He had seen his betrothed in earnest conversation with the laird of Ferniehurst for an hour together in the gloaming. He had not been able to overhear their words as they paced the burn-side, but he had seen Ferniehurst put into her hands something made of gold which glittered brightly in the mooulight - of that ho was certain - and then speed away, while Elsie put the love-token in her bosom and took the path to their bid trysting-place by the well as if nothing had happened. " Aye, so !" thought Duncan ; " she thinks to meet me there, and to beguile me with her fine words while she has Ferniehurst's love-tokeu resting on her very heart. But she shall hear my mind on it ere we part." And so it came to pass that when Elsie, in the innocence of her heart, caine gayly forward to meet her lover, she was assailed by a torrent of accusatiou and reproaches. Elsie answered him coldly and sternly, with a face that gleamed white as marble in the mooulight : "Duncan Scott, ye have dared to lightly me-me, Halbert of Craig-end's daughter - on whose fair fame no man nor woman ever breathed before. And wherefore ? Because you saw me in talk with ray foster-brother, as near of kin to me as mine own bom brother. It I were to teil my iather or my brothers, or Ferniehurst "himself what you have said.no hnlfi in Draiirbiirn inoss would be deep enough to hide you from their wrath. But I wish you no ill. You may go your own gate and keep your own counsel, but never dare, by day or by night, to speak to me again." With that she drew trom her finger her betrothal ring, and throwing it on the ground at his feet, she passed from him like a shadow and was gone. Thia quarrel had taken place a week since, and not once had Duncan found a chance to speak to Elsie alone. This evening, however, believing hini to be still at work in the harvest-field, she had ventured once more to the well tor water, and here Duncan had surprised her and pleaded his cause, unsuccessfuily as we havo heard. The well was hidden in a little recess of the huls, behind a great projecting crag. As Klsie turned round this crag, she uttered a vehement exclamation of surprise and terror, and casting away her pitcher with little regard for its safety, she started to run down the steep path which led to the burn-side. Duncan arrived a little later, and stood for a moment rooted to the spot. A sorrowful procession had entered the valley at its lower end, and was wending its way toward the tower. Foremost came Ambrose of Craig-end, supporting on a weary and travel-worn horse, an elderly lady who seemed ready to drop trom her seat. Three or four men and women followed on foot, carrying some bundies apparently snatched up in haste, and fiiially came Davie, mounted on another horse, his arm and head bound up with many a bloody stain on horse and armor. Duncan deiayed not long, but descending the brae like a wild duok, he joined the party just as it passed before the door of the tower, whero old Halbert, apprised of its approach, was already standing. " Alack and woe's me !" exclaimed the old man. " My dear and honored lady, has it come to this 't"' " Even as you see, my good friend," answereü the lady sadly. " But how 'i But when F' "Dacre, with his Euglishmen, came upon us at daybreak," answered the lady ot Ferniehurst. ' Our men fought brave ly, none could do better ; but the enemy were in overwhelming forcé. My son is a priscner; most of our brave kinsmen and servan ts are slain, and there is not left one stone upon another at Ferniehurst. But for these, your brae sona, 1 hai not been here to teil the tale, and I fear that Davie is wounded to death." " He couid never die better," answered the old man, giving his hand to the lady whom Ambrose had by this time lifted from her horse. " You are most welcome, lady, to my roof, which may be 8aferin these times than many a lordly hall. The English will scarce win this length, and if they do, there are the caves in the hill to which we may retreat till the storm be overpast." All was now bustle in and around the little tower. The best acoomuiodation the place atïorded was hastily provided for thd old lady of Ferniehurst and her women, while the men found a scarce rougher shelter in the barns and outhouses. A sheep was quickly killed and dressed, the hurts of the wounded were attended to, and soma degree of quiet began to be restored, whou Elsie, passing trom the house to the cow-shed, came upon Duncan Scott, bringing in wxth his own ruanly hands the full pails of milk. " 1 have sorted the cows for you, Elsie," said he, huinbly enough. " Mony thanks ; but you need na' have fashed yourself," was the lofty answer. " Elsie, will nothing I can do wiu your forgiveness?" asked poor Duncan. " Aye !" answered Elsie, turning swiftly upon him. "Bring back my fosterbrother to his mother's arms - my fosterbrother, who was taken bravely tighting while you were hiding here, and I will iorgive you." As soon as the worda were spoken, Elsie wished them unsaid. She knew that they were cruelly unjust and unkind ; that Duncan had stayed at home solely that he might help her.father to secure their scanty harvest of oats. She knew that no braver man than Duncan ever came of the name of Soott. But she was too proud to take back her words, and ehe passed on. She returned in half an hour to see her rejected lover standing in the sanie place and attitude in which she had left him. She would have passed, but he laid a detaining hand on her arm. " Elsie !" said he, in a voice whioh trembled at first but grew strongor as he proceeded. " Elsie, we are now even, i'or ïf I called you au ill name, as I did to my shame, you have evened me to a coward. You bid me bring back your foster-brother. I will bring him back or never return more. Fare you well, and if you never again hear of Duncan of Ektin, think that he is dead, and thut he died blessing you." Before she eould answer, if, indeed, she had made up her mind what to say, he had kissed her forehead and was gone. The next morning Duncan was missing. A shepherd on the hills had seeu him early in the morning striding down the glen. Day after day passed, and yet he did not return. Surry was still encamped near Jedburgh. Dacre had just returned irom his successful foray, after three or four daya" absence, bringing great store of booty in Bheep and cattle, and many prisoners, among them the young lord of Ferniei hurst, a near kinsman of Bucoleugh, and a prize of no mean valué. Lord Dacre had not chosen to join his forces to those of Surry, but lay encamped on the hillside at some little distance, the horses of his troop being together in a field close at hand, and under a proper guard. The piisonere, carefully watched, ocoupied a tent by theniselves. Lord Dacre hiinself, having left everything in perfect seeurity, was supping with the Admiral. Thomas Timms, keeping watch over the aforesaid horses, was listening to the adventures of his bosom friend and boon companion, John Davis, who had been out with the marauding party, when he suddenly made the latter a signal for silence. " What now '(" asked the latter, in a low tone. " Didst ever hear that the men of these parte had horns like a hart P" asked Thomas Timms, in a somewhat tremulous whisper. " No. What means that fool's-question 'f " Because here in the last five minutes I have seen a pair of horns raised above yon wall, and the last time there was a man's head under them - and there again ! Jack, the devil is among us !" " More likely some Scotch spy," answered the more valiant Davis. "I will try if his devilship's hide will turn a clothyard shaft. Where did you see him '(" "Over right the thorn yonder- and thero - see. by the thorn yonder - and again - " Davis raised his bow and fitted his arrow, but before he could draw itto head, a wild yell rose from the quarter to which his attention was directed, and three or tour wild-looking figures with horns and other strange disguises sprang into the inclosure. The horses, terrified by the strange sight and sound, burst away in a body, and rushing headlong through the camp and down upon Surry's quaiters, swept all before them in indiscriniinate confusión. " The Scots !" was the cry. Arrows and guns were discharged at random, still more alarming the maddened horses, which ran through the oamp overwhelming beasts and men, and finally disappeariug in the darkness. It was long ere order was restored, and when things were once more quiet, a sad scène of dainage and loss was diBplayed to the dismayed and angry eyes of the Admiral. Tents were borne down and lay " all along," arms were scattered and destroyed, heads and limbs were broken, while out of more than a thousand oavalry horses, eight hundred were wholly missing. Worst of all, the tent where the prisoners had been confined was thrown down and the prisoners were gone. Dacre's men - nay, Lord Ducre himself was ready to swear that the devil had appeared, in bodily shape, six times at least among them, and to his power - doubtless invoked by the Scots - -the whole disaster was attributed. The Admiral was by no means content with this explanation, but there was nothing to be done. Both horses aud men were gone beyond recovery. It was growing toward sunset, on the third day atter the alarm lately narrated. when a young lad, who, in the scantness of the garrison at Craig-end, had been set to keep watch at the entranceof the glen, came running to the tower with the news that " three or four braw riders on great horses were coming up the stream." " Riders ! Are ye sure, callant f" asked old Halbert, anxiously. " Aye, and on braw groat steeds, such as the Southrons ride," answered the lad ; " and I am sure that the foremost man of all is Duncan of Eldin himself." A sickening thought crossed Elsie's mind at these words. Was it po6sible that driven desperate by jealousy and baffled love, Dunoan had revenged himself upon her by bringing the English upon them ? " Priend or foe, we must be ready for them," said old Halbert. " Ambrose, my son, go with three men down tbe stream to the point you wot of. The rest abide here with me. Elsie, get all ready, and at the word from me, have the lady away to the hill. I cannot think Duncan would betray us, but these are trying times." Inconsistent Elsie ! She, too, had tho't of such treachery, but she was as angry at her father for hinting at it, as if such a notion had never crossed her mind. - The women prepared all things for a hasty füght, and then Elsie went forth to the tower-head, and strained her eyes and ears to catch some intelligence. She was not left long in suspense. Loud shouts -not of onset, but of joy and triumph - assured her that it was no foe who approached. Presently she beheld her father and friends returning, with several horsemen, foremost of whom were the young lord of Ferniehurst and Duncan Scott. " But where got you your braw steeds ? asked the old man, when the tumult of joy and welcome had somewhat subsided. " Where there were plenty more,'' answered Duncan, laughing. " We drave the whole of Dacre's horse out through their camp, and brought off some eight hundred of the best- me and the Liddesdale lads- and Hab Elliot has them in safe keeping where Dacre will never ftnd them. The Southirons thought the devil was among them, sure enough, when they saw Habby and me leap over the wall with the bucks' horns on our heads. It was a desperate venture, but we carried it through, and here we are." Elsie was like one in a dream, Duncan had not spoken to her nor looked at her. Wishing for time to think, she took her pitcher and went once more to the holy well for water, and leaning over the wall as it filled, she wiped a few drops from her eyes. " He must do as he will," she murmur. ed ; " I have put myself so far in the wrong that I daré not say a word. 1 must even bide and see how it will turn out." She stooped to lift here filled pitcher, when a manly hand was interposed, and a uianly voice whispered - " Elsie, I have brought safe home your foster-brother. Will you forgive me now ?" " 'Tis I that need forgiveness," replied Elsie. " I have been sorry ever since I said that you were in hiding." " We will cali quita," said Duncan, smiling. " May be we have both learned a lesson which will be worth what it coBt. See, here is my ring that you threw at my feet. Will you let me put it on '(" Elsie's hand was not withdrawn, and the pitcher had time to run over, while the lovers leaned on the wall and let the