Scotland/Scots > Wilson's tales of the Borders and of Scotland > Volume 3

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TALES OF THE BORDERS.
“Lay hands on me wha dare!” he cried, as he brandished
it in the air, and fled at his utmost speed.
Archy knew that though his enemy might recover, the
Scotts would let loose the tender mercies of the law upon
his head, and instead of returning to the house of his mas¬
ter, he sought safety in concealment.
On the third day after the fray in Liddesdale, he entered
Dumfries. He was weary and wayworn, for he had fled
from hill to hill, and from glen to glen, fearing pursuit.
He inquired for a lodging, and was shown to a small house
near the foot of a street leading to the river, and which,
we believe, is now called the Bank Yennel; and in which,
he was told, “ the pig folk and other travellers put up for
the night.” There was a motley group in the house, beggars
and chapmen, and amongst the former was an old man
of uncommon stature; and his hair, as white as snow,
descended down upon his shoulders. His beard was of
equal whiteness, and fell upon his breast. An old grey
cloak covered his person, which was fastened round his
body with a piece of rope instead of a girdle. He ap¬
peared as one who had been in foreign wars, and he wore
a shade or patch over his left eye. He spoke but little,
but he gazed often and wistfully on the countenance of
Archy, and more than once a tear found its way down
his weather-beaten cheeks. In the morning when Archy
rose to depart, “ Whither gang ye, young man ?” inquired
the old beggar, earnestly—“ are ye for the north or for
the south ? ”
“ Wherefore spier ye, auld man ? ” replied Archy.
“ I hae a cause, an’ ane that winna harm ye,” said the
stranger, “ if ye will thole an auld man’s company for a
little way.”
Archy agreed that he should accompany him, and they
took the road towards Annan together. It was a calm
and glorious morning: the Solway flashed in the sunlight