The boy was shaking his head rather doubtfully as he stood,
looking down upon the two girls on the broad window-seat.
"Nay, nay, beausire[1]; shake not your head like that," exclaimed
the younger of the girls. "We did escape that way, trust me we
did; Edith here can tell you I do speak the truth--for sure, 't
was her device."
[1] "Fair sir": an ancient style of address, used especially
toward those high in rank in Norman times.
Thirteen-year-old Edith laughed merrily enough at her sister's
perplexity, and said gayly as the lad turned questioningly to
her:
"Sure, then, beausire, 't is plain to see that you are
Southron-born and know not the complexion of a Scottish mist. Yet
't is even as Mary said. For, as we have told you, the Maiden's
Castle standeth high-placed on the crag in Edwin's Burgh, and
hath many and devious pathways to the lower gate, So when the Red
Donald's men were swarming up the steep, my uncle, the Atheling,
did guide us, by ways we knew well, and by twists and turnings
that none knew better, straight through Red Donald's array, and
all unseen and unnoted of them, because of the blessed thickness
of the gathering mist.
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