I heard ye in the evenin' lassie,

    As ye tiptoed down the hall,

Quiet as a mouse ye were,

    Wrapped in your old dark shawl.

 

Ye cast a furtive glance aroond,

    But the hoos lay quiet and still,

And your lamp three times you showed outside,

    Through the dust grimed sill.

 

An' the robber of the highway roads,

    For whom the king had searched all year,

Fast stepped right through the open door,

    Without no sign of fear.

 

An' sure it was he knew you,

    For he held you hard and long,

And placed a kiss upon your lips

    That was both soft and strong.

 

An' sure you were that up above

    Your husband lay asleepin',

An' no thought ha' you that doon the stairs,

    He quiet would come a creepin'.

 

An' hear the sounds of soft betrayal

    From oot the darkened room,

While shadows flickered on silent walls

    Within the cold dark gloom.

 

An' a kiss for luck you gave him,

    As he soft unbolt the door,

An' slipped outside his work ta do,

    Upon the silent moor.

 

And your husband softly followed,

    Through the darkened night,

On hooves of jealous sorrow

    He galloped out of sight.

 

An' sometime in the night I heard,

    The king's men lay in wait,

An' on his way back here,

    On the old dark road . . . the bandit met his fate.