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Updated: May 29, 2025
"William," he said, holding out his hands with an appealing gesture, "I have laboured with you, striven with, prayed for you. To-night I came forth through the storm, though an old man, to deliver you from the manifest snares of the devil " But the Earl interrupted his recital without compunction. "Set Malise MacKim in the inner dungeon," he cried.
Sholto MacKim, the son of Malise the Smith, testifies to these things in his own clerkly script. The instant Lord William entered his own castle of Thrieve over the drawbridge, and without even returning the salutations of his guard, he turned about to the two men who had so masterfully compelled his return.
It was evident, therefore, that, in spite of the loss of their leader, the Earl's party stood every chance to win the field. For not only was Alan Fleming the only knight left on horseback, but Malise MacKim had disposed of the laird of Stra'ven, squire to William of Avondale, having by one mighty axe stroke beaten the Lanarkshire man down to his knees. "A Douglas!
Sons and daughter He has taken from me. But He shall not break my heart. No, not even He. Stand up, Malise MacKim, and tell me how these things came to pass."
He hesitated a moment, and then added with a kind of curious bashfulness "But I am concerned about ye this nicht, William Douglas I fear that ye could not would not permit me " "Could not permit what out with it, old grumble-pate?" "That I should saddle my Flanders mare and ride after you. Malise MacKim would not be in the way even if ye went a-trysting.
For the second time Sholto MacKim wore on his cap the golden buckle of archery, and took his way happily homeward, much uplifted that the somewhat fraudulent eyes of Mistress Maud Lindesay had smiled upon him whilst the French lady was fastening it there. The knightly part of the great muster had already gone back to their tents and lodgings.
"Malise," he cried, "Malise MacKim!" And again the "word" ran through the castle, escaped the gate, circumnavigated the moat, and ran round the circle of the tents till the shouts of "Malise, Malise," could have been heard almost at the deserted fords of Lochar, where sundry varlets were watching for a chance to search the deserted pavilions for anything left behind therein by the knights and squires.
But Sholto MacKim was not the youth to question an order. He lifted the sword in his left hand, and with a strong ungraceful motion struck with all his might. At first he thought that he had missed altogether. There was no tingling in his arm, no jar when the blade should have encountered the iron. But the Countess was examining the centre of the hoop. "I have missed," said Sholto.
"Up there!" exclaimed MacKim, as the warm breath tickled his neck, and at the burst of sound the steed shifted and clattered upon the hard-beaten floor of the smithy, tossing his head till the bridle chains rang again.
The words were clear enough, but in a language not understood by Sholto MacKim. They seemed intelligible enough, however, to the Earl. "I knew it," he cried; "the false hounds have imprisoned her also. It is Sybilla's voice. God in heaven they are torturing her!" He ran to the door and shook it vehemently. "Ho! Without there!" he cried imperiously, as if in his own Castle at Thrieve.
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