Prepare thyself
for death, if thou canst."
"He that looks on death, Lady," answered Dryfesdale, "as that which he
may not shun, and which has its own fixed and certain hour, is ever
prepared for it. He that is hanged in May will eat no flaunes
[footnote: Pancakes] in midsummer--so there is the moan made for the
old serving-man. But whom, pray I, send you on so fair an errand?"
"There will be no lack of messengers," answered his mistress.
"By my hand, but there will," replied the old man; "your castle is but
poorly manned, considering the watches that you must keep, having this
charge--There is the warder, and two others, whom you discarded for
tampering with Master George; then for the warder's tower, the bailie,
the donjon--five men mount each guard, and the rest must sleep for the
most part in their clothes. To send away another man, were to harass
the sentinels to death--unthrifty misuse for a household. To take in
new soldiers were dangerous, the charge requiring tried men. I see but
one thing for it--I will do your errand to Sir William Douglas
myself."
"That were indeed a resource!--And on what day within twenty years
would it be done?" said the Lady.
"Even with the speed of man and horse," said Dryfesdale; "for though I
care not much about the latter days of an old serving-man's life, yet
I would like to know as soon as may be, whether my neck is mine own or
the hangman's."
"Holdest thou thy own life so lightly?" said the Lady.
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