command, laid his hand on the relic, and in a shaken, almost tremulous
voice, repeated the words of the oath after his dictation: 'I, Walter
Stewart, Master of Albany, hereby swear to God and St. Andrew, to fight
in no private brawl, to spoil no man nor woman, to oppress no poor man,
clerk, widow, maid, or orphan, to abstain from all wrong or spulzie from
this hour until the King shall come again in peace.'

He uttered the words, and kissed the jewel that was tendered to him; and
then Sir James said, in the same cold and dignified tone, 'Let thine oath
be sacred, or beware. Now, mount and go thy way, but take heed _how_ I
meet thee again.'

Sir Walter's horse was held for him by Brewster, the knight's English
attendant, and without another word he flung himself into the saddle, and
rode away to join such of his followers as were waiting dispersed at a
safe distance to mark his fate, but without attempting anything for his
assistance.

'Oh, Sir!' burst forth Malcolm; but then, even as he was about to utter
his thanks, his eye sought for the guardian who had ever been his
mouthpiece, and, with a sudden shriek of dismay, he cried, 'My uncle!
where is he? where is Sir David?'

'Alack! alack!' cried Lilias. 'Oh, brother, I saw him on the ground; he
fell before my horse. I saw no more, for the Master held me, and muffled
my face. Oh, let us back, he may yet live.'

'Yea, let us back,' said Sir James, 'if we may yet save the good old man.
Those villains will not dare to follow; or if they do, Nigel--Brewster,
you understand guarding the rear.'