sons for loving his daughters over well!'

'The clerks' twa sons of Owsenford that were foully slain!' cried
Malcolm, his face lighting up. 'Oh, Sir, have you seen their gibbet?'

'What? were they friends of yours?' asked Hal, much amused, and shaking
his head merrily at Sir James. 'Ill company, I fear--'

'Only in a ballad,' said Malcolm, colouring, 'that tells how at Yuletide
the ghosts came to their mother with their hats made of the birk that
grew at the gates of Paradise.'

'A rare ballad must that be!' exclaimed Hal. 'Canst sing it? Or are you
weary?--Marmion, prithee tell some of the fellows to bring my harp from
the baggage.'

'His own harp is with ours,' said Sir James; 'he will make a better
figure therewith.'

At his sign, the attendant, Nigel, the only person besides Lord Marmion
of Tanfield who had been present at the meal, besides the two Stewarts
and the English brothers, rose and disappeared between the trees, beyond
which a hum of voices, an occasional laugh, and the stamping of horses
and jingling of bridles, betokened that a good many followers were in
waiting. Malcolm's harp was quickly brought, having been slung in its
case to the saddle of Halbert's horse; and as he had used it to beguile
the last evening's halt, it did not need much tuning. Surprised as his
princely notions were at being commanded rather than requested to sing,
the sweet encouraging smile and tone of kind authority banished all
hesitation in complying, and he gave the ballad of the Clerks' Twa Sons