Meinie of course was about to enter some bashful protest, when the soft voice of her foster-sister said,--
"Do, dearest Meinie, and I will join thee; 'twill raise the spirits of good aunt Grisel. Ah, if I had only my spinnet, the cittern, or even my flageolet here!"
"What is your pleasure, then, Madam Lilian?" asked Meinie, curtseying, "_Lady Anne Bothwell's Lament_, or _The Broom of the Cowdenknowes_?"
"Anything but the last," said Lady Bruntisfield. "The Knowes of Cowden hath passed away from the house of Hume, and bonnie though the golden broom may be, it blooms for us no more."
"Sing '_Dunbarton's drums_,' Meinie," said Lilian, "you hum it from morning till evening."
"And so do _you_, Madam," said Meinie slyly and bluntly; "but I loe the merry measure."
"Ewhow, that's because o' my wild son Hab!" said Elsie, laughing. "Mak' speed, lassie--our lady waits."
Meinie made another low old-fashioned curtsey, and then, while continuing her task, sang the song and march composed for the Scots Royals, or Dunbarton's Musqueteers, and which had then been popular in Scotland for some years. Lilian at times added her softer notes to Meinie's, and their clear voices made the rough rafters, hollow box-beds, and deep bunkers of the old cottage ring to that merry old air:--
"Dunbarton's drums beating bonnie, O, Remind me o' my Johnnie, O,
added Elsie, beating time with her feet to the mellow voices of the girls; but Lady Bruntisfield heard them not, for with her glistening eyes fixed on the glowing embers, she gradually sunk into a deep reverie. Animated each by her own secret thoughts, the girls sang with tenderness and enthusiasm, and all were so much engaged that none of the four perceived a _fifth_ personage, who suddenly made his appearance among them.
In a corner of the cottage stood a great oak chest, apparently a meal girnel, but having a false floor, and being in reality the mouth of the subterranean place of concealment and escape, communicating with the grove behind the cottage. Such outlets were numerous in all large mansions; and the dangerous times of the Solemn League had caused the umquhile John Elshender to construct such a sallyport from his humble dwelling; and on several occasions of peril it had saved him from being hanged over his own door by Malignants, Covenanters, and English, or whoever had the upperhand for the time. Slowly the girnel lid was raised, and the glowing firelight shone on the steel breast-plate and bandoleers of a musqueteer. He was a ruddy-faced young man, with the prominent cheek-bones and shrewd expression of the Lowland peasantry: stout and athletic in figure, his keen grey eyes took a rapid survey of the cottage under the peak of his morion. His face expressed surprise and curiosity, but as the song proceeded he stepped slowly and softly out, and when it was concluded stood close to the rosy and buxom Meinie.