"What is your name, good fellow?" said the Lady.
"Edward Glendinning," answered the Abbot, with a suitable reverence.
"Art thou of the blood of the Knight of Avenel?" said the Lady of
Lochleven.
"Ay, madam, and that nearly," replied the pretended soldier.
"It is likely enough," said the Lady, "for the Knight is the son of
his own good works, and has risen from obscure lineage to his present
high rank in the Estate--But he is of sure truth and approved worth,
and his kinsman is welcome to us. You hold, unquestionably, the true
faith?"
"Do not doubt of it, madam," said the disguised churchman.
"Hast thou a token to me from Sir William Douglas?" said the Lady.
"I have, madam," replied he; "but it must be said in private."
"Thou art right," said the Lady, moving towards the recess of a
window; "say in what does it consist?"
"In the words of an old bard," replied the Abbot.
"Repeat them," answered the Lady; and he uttered, in a low tone, the
lines from an old poem, called The Howlet,--
"O Douglas! Douglas!
Tender and true."
"Trusty Sir John Holland!" [Footnote: Sir John Holland's poem of the
Howlet is known to collectors by the beautiful edition presented to
the Bannatyne Club, by Mr. David Laing.] said the Lady Douglas,
apostrophizing the poet, "a kinder heart never inspired a rhyme, and
the Douglas's honour was ever on thy heart-string! We receive you
among our followers, Glendinning--But, Randal, see that he keep the
outer ward only, till we shall hear more touching him from our
son.
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