Dancing in front, the red masker brandished his sputtering torch, and chanted in a deep bass voice the following rhyme:
"Trip and goe, heave and hoe, Up and down, and to and fro; By firth and fell, by tower and grove, Merrily, merrily let us rove!"
Then the whole choristers struck in while whirling round, they brandished their torches and jangled their bells.
"Hogmenay! Hogmenay! Trois Rois la! Homme est ne!
Never before had so droll and jovial a band of guisards been seen; and Lady Grisel, preceding all her guests, came cane in hand to the doorway to see their grotesque morrice-dance, and listen to their rhymes; and while the servitors were busy regaling them with ale, cheese, and bannocks, Lilian brought a cup of wine, which, in courtesy, she tendered to their leader. As he approached, she could not repress a shudder, so formidable was his aspect--so tall his stature--so large and dark the eyes with which he regarded her through that terrible mask, down the gaping lips of which he poured the ruddy Burgundy, and again tendered the cup to the fair Hebe who brought it.
As Lilian received it, his strong arm was thrown around her.
"_Homme est ne!_" he shouted, in a voice like a trumpet. There was a confused discharge of pistols--swords were seen to flash, and in an instant all the torches were extinguished. There was a stifled shriek; and the whole party were seen rushing down the avenue, leaving the barbican gate locked behind them.
"Clermistonlee!" exclaimed Lady Grisel, and swooned away in the arms of her people.
"Boot and saddle!--Horse and spear!--Ride and rescue!" exclaimed old Dalyell, forgetful of his lumbago and everything but the danger of Lilian. Rushing to the hall, no readier weapon than the poker was at hand; but, alas! it was chained to the stone pillar of the chimney-piece. Shrieks and outcries filled the mansion. Old Simeon the baillie, John Leekie the gardener, and others, snatched such weapons as came to hand; and, headed by Dalyell, who was now armed with his great Muscovite sabre, sallied forth to find themselves _within_ the barbican, the strong iron gate of which defied all their attempts. The fierce old soldier rent his beard, and swore some terrible oaths in the Tartar, Russ, and Scottish tongues, till ladders were procured and the walls scaled.