LD Archibald Douglas, Earl of Angus, sat alone by a sturdy oak table in one of the largest rooms of his gloomy castle, called The Hermitage, just north of the English border. It was a room in which great affairs of State had been settled, and many a private scheme of his own concocted, as was the case on this summer night, when the crafty old man sat like a spider in his web, sensitive to the slightest trembling pulsation of any of the numerous gossamer threads of intrigue that stretched from this focus to the circumference which marked the limits of his great influence in Scotland. Indeed, some secret lines of communication were supposed to have their terminus even in the English Court, but that no one could prove, and few had the courage to investigate, for the Earl of Angus was supposed to be a treacherous friend, and known to be an implacable enemy. In youth he had been as brave as any of his name, and had hesitated not to stake life or fortune on a twist of the sword, but his mental ability increased as the sinews of his strong right arm diminished in vigour; and experience taught him that even in a turbulent world it is brain and not brawn that wins the ultimate victory. In his time he had been for the King and against the King; an enemy of the English and a friend of the English; a partisan of France and an intrigant against her; but there never was a moment when he failed to play for his own hand, and for that alone. If in his elder days he seemed to have preference rather for the action of the law than for the sweep of the sword, yet no one doubted that if violence became necessary, the strong blade of the Douglas would speedily part company with the scabbard.
There was a slight knock at the closed door and, receiving permission, the Captain of Hermitage Castle entered. Standing stiffly at salute, the warrior said with military curtness:
"The young man is here, my lord."
"Ah!" said the Earl of Angus, with a long drawn breath of satisfaction, as he partly turned in his chair, his emaciated, grey face lighting up for an instant. "How did he manage it?"
"He tied a thin cord round a huge stone, which he flung over bailey wall; then listening a moment, and thinking his feat unnoticed, he climbed and sprang down into the enclosure."
"Ah!" said the Earl again. "What a grand thing it is to be young and strong. A huge stone, you say, flung clear of our bailey wall? There's not many among you could do that, Donald. Was the young man alone?"
"Entirely alone, my lord."
"You think he has none concealed in the forest or among the hills?"
"No, my lord. My men followed him unseen all the way from Hawick."
"And where is he now?"
"He is prowling round the foot of the castle wall, my Lord, reconnoitering."
"Very well. Get me my bonnet, Dona]d, and I will have some conversation with him."
"He has a drawn sword in his hand," cautioned the Captain.
"To be sure, to be sure," commented the Earl, nodding his head three or lour times. "I said he was young and 'tis ever the fault of youth to trust to cold iron."
"It is easy for us to lay him on his back, if such is your wish, my lord."
"No, no, Donald. There would be an outcry and a clashing of steel, for the young fellow would fight like a wild cat, I make no doubt. It would he a pity to disturb the peace of the castle. Are all your preparations complete, Donald?"
"Yes, my lord."
"Very well Keep your men out of sight but not out of ear-shot. It's not likely I'll need you, but if I do you will hear my voice rising loud. Be on the watch, and when I cry 'Donald!' you will fall on the young man without any delay, your own first duty being to spring between me and him."
"I'll see to that, my lord," returned the Captain, with a ring of determination in his voice.