I think the knight of Kinfauns will do his devoir by the burgh in
peace or war; and it is needless to be reckoning the town's good
deeds till we see him thankless for them."

"So say I," cried our friend Proudfute, from the top of his mare.
"We roystering blades never bear so base a mind as to count for
wine and walnuts with a friend like Sir Patrick Charteris. Nay,
trust me, a good woodsman like Sir Patrick will prize the right
of hunting and sporting over the lands of the burgh as an high
privilege, and one which, his Majesty the King's Grace excepted,
is neither granted to lord nor loon save to our provost alone."

As the bonnet maker spoke, there was heard on the left hand the
cry of, "So so--waw waw--haw," being the shout of a falconer
to his hawk.

"Methinks yonder is a fellow using the privilege you mention, who,
from his appearance, is neither king nor provost," said the smith.

"Ay, marry, I see him," said the bonnet maker, who imagined the
occasion presented a prime opportunity to win honour. "Thou and I,
jolly smith, will prick towards him and put him to the question."

"Have with you, then," cried the smith; and his companion spurred
his mare and went off, never doubting that Gow was at his heels.

But Craigdallie caught Henry's horse by the reins. "Stand fast by
the standard," he said; "let us see the luck of our light horseman.
If he procures himself a broken pate he will be quieter for the
rest of the day."