"Chance for what, Andrew dear?" inquired Janet, tremulously--for she knew his nature.
"To mak a fortune in a moment," returned he, eagerly--"to be married the morn! The king is to gie a purse o' gold!"
Now, the only obstacle that stood between the immediate union of Andrew and Janet was his poverty.
"Oh, come awa, Andrew, love," said she, imploringly, and pulling his arm as she spoke; "I see your drift!--come awa--come awa--we have seen enough. Dinna be after ony sic nonsense, or thrawing awa your life on sic an errand."
"Wheesht, Janet, hinny--wheesht," said he; "dinna be talking havers. Just stand you here--there's not the smallest danger--I'll be back to ye in ten minutes or a quarter of an hour at the utmost--ye may tak my word upon that."
"Andrew!" cried she, "are ye out o' yer mind a'thegither--or do ye want to put me out o' mine! I really think it looks like it! O man, would ye be guilty o' murdering yoursel, I may say!--come awa--come awa, dear--for I'll no stand to see it."
"Hoot, Janet, hinny," returned he, "come, dear, dinna be silly."
Now, the number of the Highland party was completed, and they stood, a band of hardy, determined, and desperate-looking men; but the party of the Borderers was one deficient.
"Is there not another," cried the herald, "to stand forth, and maintain with his sword the honour and courage of the Borders?"
"Yes! here am I!" shouted Andrew, and drawing Janet's arm from his; "now, dearest," added he, hastily, "just hae patience--just stand here for ten minutes--and I'll let ye see what I can do."
She would have detained him; but in a moment he sprang into the amphitheatre, and exclaimed--
"Now, Sir Knights, ye that hae been trying yer hands at the tourneyings, will ony o' ye hae the guidness to obleege me wi' the loan o' yer sword for a wee while, and I'll be bond for ye I'll no disgrace it--I'll try the temper o' it in earnest."
Andrew instantly had a dozen to choose upon; and he took his place amongst the Borderers.
When he joined them, those who knew him, said--"The day is ours--Andrew is a host in himsel."
The marshals gave the signal for the onset; and a deadly, a savage onset it was. Swords were shivered to the hilt. Men, who had done each other no wrong, who had never met before, grasped each other by the throat--the Highland dirk and the Border knife were drawn. Men plunged them into each other--they fell together--they rolled, the one over the other, in the struggles and the agonies of death. The wounded strewed the ground--they strove to crawl from the strife of their comrades. The dead lay upon the dying, and the dying on the dead. Death had reaped a harvest from both parties; and no man could tell on which side would lie the victory. Yet no man could stand before the sword-arm of Andrew--antagonist after antagonist fell before him. He rushed to every part of the combat; and wheresoever he went, the advantage was in favour of the Borderers. He was the champion of the field--the hero of the fight. The king gave a signal (perhaps because his young queen was horrified with the game of butchery), and at the command of the marshals the combatants on both sides laid down their arms. Reiterated shouts again rang from the spectators. Some clapped their hands and cried--"Eyemouth yet!"--"Wha's like Andrew!"--"We'll carry him hame shouther high!" cried some of his townsmen.