CHAPTER I

                 There was a king, and a courteous king
                   And he had a daughter sae bonnie;
                 And he lo'ed that maiden aboon a' thing
                   I' the bonnie, bonnie halls o' Binnorie.
                                     *    *    *    *

                 But wae be to thee, thou warlock wight,
                   My malison come o'er thee,
                 For thou hast undone the bravest knight,
                   That ever brak bread i' Binnorie!
                                             <1Old Song>1

THE days of the Stuarts, kings of Scotland, were the days of
chivalry and romance. The long and bloody contest that the
nation maintained against the whole power of England, for
the recovery of its independence,--of those rights which had
been most unwarrantably wrested from our fathers by the
greatest and most treacherous sovereign of that age, with the
successful and glorious issue of the war, laid the foundation
for this spirit of heroism, which appears to have been at its
zenith about the time that the Stuarts first acquired the
sovereignty of the realm. The deeds of the Douglasses, the
Randolphs, and other border barons of that day, are not to
be equalled by any recorded in our annals; while the reprisals
that they made upon the English, in retaliation for former
injuries, enriched both them and their followers, and rendered
their appearance splendid and imposing to a degree that would
scarcely now gain credit. It was no uncommon thing for a
Scottish earl then to visit the Court at the head of a thousand
horsemen, all splendidly mounted in their military accout-
rements; and many of these gentlemen of rank and family. In
court and camp, feats of arms were the topic of conversation,
and the only die that stamped the character of a man of re-
nown, either with the fair, the monarch, or the chiefs of the
land. No gentleman of noble blood would pay his addresses
to his mistress, until he had broken a spear with the knights
of the rival nation, surprised a strong-hold, or driven a prey
from the kinsmen of the Piercies, the Musgraves, or the
Howards. As in all other things that run to a fashionable
extremity, the fair sex took the lead in encouraging these
deeds of chivalry, till it came to have the appearance of a
national mania. There were tournaments at the castle of every
feudal baron and knight. The ploughmen and drivers were
often discovered, on returning from the fields, hotly engaged
in a tilting bout with their goads and plough-staves; and even
the little boys and maidens on the village green, each well
mounted on a crooked stick, were daily engaged in the
combat, and riding rank and file against each other, breaking
their tiny weapons in the furious onset, while the mimic
fire flashed from their eyes. Then was the play of <1Scots and>1
<1English>1 begun, a favourite one on the school green to this day.
Such was the spirit of the age, not only in Scotland, but over
all the countries of southern Europe, when the romantic
incidents occurred on which the following tale is founded. It
was taken down from the manuscript of an old Curate, who
had spent the latter part of his life in the village of Mireton,
and was given to the present Editor by one of those tenants
who now till the valley where stood the richest city of this
realm.
  There were once a noble king and queen of Scotland, as
many in that land have been.--In this notable tell-tale manner,
does old Isaac, the curate, begin his narrative. It will be seen
in the sequel, that this king and queen were Robert the
Second and his consort.--They were beloved by all their sub-
jects, (continues he,) and loved and favoured them in return;
and the country enjoyed happiness and peace, all save a part
adjoining to the borders of England. The strong castle of
Roxburgh, which was the key of that country, had been five
times taken by the English, and three times by the Scots, in
less than seventeen months, and was then held by the gallant
Lord Musgrave for Richard king of England.
  Our worthy king had one daughter, of exquisite beauty
and accomplishments; the flower of all Scotland, and her
name was Margaret. This princess was courted by many of the
principal nobility of the land, who all eagerly sought an
alliance with the royal family, not only for the additional
honour and power which it conferred on them and their
posterity, but for the personal charms of the lady, which
were of that high eminence, that no man could look on her
without admiration. This emulation of the lords kept the
court of King Robert full of bustle, homage, and splendour.
All were anxious to frustrate the designs of their opponents,
and to forward their own; so that high jealousies were often
apparent in the sharp retorts, stern looks, and nodding
plumes of the rival wooers; and as the princess had never dis-
closed her partiality for one above another, it was judged that
Robert scarcely dared openly to give the preference to any
of them. A circumstance, however, soon occurred, which
brought the matter fairly to the test.
  It happened on a lovely summer day, at the end of July,
that three and twenty noble rivals for the hand of the
beauteous princess were all assembled at the palace of
Linlithgow; but the usual gaiety, mirth, and repartee did not
prevail; for the king had received bad tidings that day, and he
sat gloomy and sad.
   Musgrave had issued from the castle of Roxburgh, had
surprised the castle of Jedburgh, and taken prisoner William,
brother to the lord of Galloway; slain many loyal Scottish
subjects, and wasted Teviotdale with fire and sword. The
conversation turned wholly on the state of affairs on the
border, and the misery to which that country was exposed by
the castle of Roxburgh remaining in the hands of the English;
and at length the king enquired impatiently, how it came that
Sir Philip Musgrave had surprised the castle this last time,
when his subjects were so well aware of their danger.
   The earl of Hume made answer, that it was wholly an
affair of chivalry, and one of the bravest and noblest acts
that ever was performed. Musgrave's mistress, the lady Jane
Howard, of the blood royal, and the greatest heiress of the
north of England, had refused to see him, unless he gained
back his honour by the retaking of that perilous castle, and
keeping it against all force, intercession, or guile, till the end
of the Christmas holidays. That he had accomplished the
former in the most gallant stile; and, from the measures that
he had adopted, and the additional fortifications that he had
raised, there was every possibility that he would achieve the
latter.
   ""What,'' said the king, ""must the spirit of chivalry then be
confined to the country of our enemies? Have our noble
dames of Scotland less heroism in their constitutions than
those of the south? Have they fewer of the charms of beauty,
or have their lovers less spirit to fulfil their commands? By
this sceptre in my right hand, I will give my daughter, the
princess Margaret, to the knight who shall take that castle
of Roxburgh out of the hands of the English before the
expiry of the Christmas holidays.''
   Every lord and knight was instantly on his feet to accept
the proposal, and every one had his hand stretched towards
the royal chair for audience, when Margaret arose herself,
from the king's left hand, where she was seated, and flinging
her left arm backward, on which swung a scarf of gold, and
stretching her right, that gleamed with bracelets of rubies and
diamonds, along the festive board, ""Hold, my noble lords,''
said she; ""I am too deeply interested here not to have a word
to say. The grandchild of the great Bruce must not be given
away to every adventurer without her own approval. Who
among you will venture his honour and his life for me?''
Every knight waved his right hand aloft and dashed it on the
hilt of his sword, eyeing the graceful attitude and dignified
form of the princess with raptures of delight. ""It is well,''
continued she, ""the spirit of chivalry <1has not>1 deserted the
Scottish nation--hear me then: My father's vow shall stand;
I will give my hand in marriage to the knight who shall take
that castle for the king, my father, before the expiry of the
Christmas holidays, and rid our border of that nest of reavers;
but with this proviso only, that, in case of his attempting
and failing in the undertaking, he shall forfeit all his lands,
castles, towns, and towers to me, which shall form a part of
my marriage-portion to his rival. Is it fit that the daughter of
a king should be given up or won as circumstances may suit,
or that the risk should all be on one side? Who would be so
unreasonable as expect it? This, then, with the concurrence
of my lord and father, is my determination, and by it will I
stand.''
   The conditions were grievously hard, and had a damping
and dismal effect on the courtly circle. The light of every
eye deadened into a dim and sullen scowl. It was a deed that
promised glory and renown to adventure their blood for such
a dame,--to win such a lady as the Princess of Scotland: But,
to give up their broad lands and castles to enrich a hated rival,
was an obnoxious consideration, and what in all likelihood
was to be the issue. When all the forces of the land had been
unable to take the castle by storm, where was the probability
that any of them was now to succeed? None accepted the
conditions. Some remained silent; some shook their heads,
and muttered incoherent mumblings; others strode about the
room, as if in private consultation.
   ""My honoured liege,'' said Lady Margaret, ""none of the
lords or knights of your court have the spirit to accept of
my conditions. Be pleased then to grant me a sufficient
force. I shall choose the officers for them myself, and I
engage to take the castle of Roxburgh before Christmas. I will
disappoint the bloody Musgrave of his bride; and the world
shall see whether the charms of Lady Jane Howard or those
of Margaret Stuart shall rouse their admirers to deeds of the
most desperate valour. Before the Christmas bells have tolled,
that shall be tried on the rocks, in the rivers, in the air, and
the bowels of the earth. In the event of my enterprise proving
successful, all the guerdon that I ask is, the full and free liberty
of giving my hand to whom I will. It shall be to no one that
is here.'' And so saying she struck it upon the table, and again
took her seat at the king's left hand.
   Every foot rung on the floor with a furious tramp, in
unison with that stroke of the princess's hand. The taunt was
not to be brooked. Nor was it. The haughty blood of the
Douglasses could bear it no longer. James, the gallant earl of
Douglas and Mar, stepped forward from the circle. ""My
honoured liege, and master,'' said he, ""I have not declined
the princess's offer,--beshrew my heart if ever it embraced
such a purpose. But the stake is deep, and a moment's con-
sideration excusable. I have considered, and likewise decided.
I accept the lady's proposals. With my own vassals alone, and
at my own sole charge, will I rescue the castle from the hands
of our enemies, or perish in the attempt. The odds are high
against me. But it is now a Douglas or a Musgrave: God prosper
the bravest!''
   ""Spoken like yourself, noble Douglas,'' said the king, ""The
higher the stake the greater the honour. The task be yours,
and may the issue add another laurel to the heroic name.''
   ""James of Douglas,'' said Lady Margaret, ""dost thou
indeed accept of these hard conditions for my sake? Then
the hand of thy royal mistress shall buckle on the armour in
which thou goest to the field, but never shall unloose it,
unless from a victor or a corse!'' And with that she stretched
forth her hand, which Douglas, as he kneeled with one knee
on the ground, took and pressed to his lips.
   Every one of the nobles shook Douglas by the hand, and
wished him success. Does any man believe that there was one
among them that indeed wished it? No, there was not a chief
present that would not have rejoiced to have seen him led to
the gallows. His power was too high already, and they dreaded
that now it might be higher than ever: and, moreover, they
saw themselves outdone by him in heroism, and felt degraded
by the contract thus concluded.
   The standard of the Douglas was reared, and the bloody
heart flew far over many a lowland dale. The subordinate
gentlemen rose with their vassals, and followed the banner of
their chief; but the more powerful kept aloof, or sent
ambiguous answers.  They deemed the service undertaken
little better than the frenzy of a madman.
   There was at that time a powerful border baron, nicknamed
Sir Ringan Redhough, by which name alone he was distin-
guished all the rest of his life. He was warden of the middle
marches, and head of the most warlike and adventurous sept
in all that country. The answer which this hero gave to his
own cousin, Thomas Middlemas, who came to expostulate
with him from Douglas, is still preserved verbatim: ""What,
man, are a' my brave lads to lie in bloody claes that the
Douglas may lie i' snaw-white sheets wi' a bonny bedfellow?
Will that keep the braid border for the king, my master? Tell
him to keep their hands fu', an' their haunches toom, an'
they'll soon be blythe to leave the lass an' loup at the ladle;
an' the fient ae cloot shall cross the border to gar their pots
play brown atween Dirdanhead and Cocket-fell. Tell him this,
an' tell him that Redhough said it- If he dinna work by wiles
he'll never pouch the profit. But if he canna do it, an' owns
that he canna do it, let him send word to me, an' I'll tak' it for
him.''
   With these words he turned his back, and abruptly left
his cousin, who returned to Douglas, ill satisfied with the
success of his message, but, nevertheless, delivered it faith-
fully. ""That curst carle,'' said the Douglas, ""is a thorn in my
thigh, as well as a buckler on my arm- He's as cunning as a
fox, as stubborn as an oak, and as fierce as a lion. I must tem-
porize for the present, as I cannot do without his support,
but the time may come that he may be humbled, and made to
know his betters; since one endeavour has failed, we must
try another, and, if that do not succeed, another still.''
   The day after that, as Sir Ringan was walking out at his
own gate, an old man, with a cowl, and a long grey beard,
accosted him. ""May the great spirit of the elements shield
thee, and be thy protector, knight,'' said he.
   ""An' wha may he be, carle, an it be your will?'' said
Ringan; ""An' wha may ye be that gie me sic a sachless bene-
diction? As to my shield and protection, look ye here!'' and
with that he touched his two-handed sword, and a sheaf of
arrows that was swung at his shoulder; ""an' what are all your
saints and lang nebbit spirits to me?''
   ""It was a random salutation, knight,'' said the old man,
seeing his mood and temper; ""I am not a priest but a prophet.
I come not to load you with blessings, curses, nor homilies, all
equally unavailing, but to tell you what shall be in the times
that are to come. I have had visions of futurity that have
torn up the tendrils of my spirit by the roots. Would you
like to know what is to befal you and your house in the
times that are to come?
   ""I never believe a word that you warlocks say,'' replied
the knight; ""but I like aye to hear what you <1will>1 say about
matters; though it is merely to laugh at ye, for I dinna gie
credit to ane o' your predictions. Sin' the Rhymer's days,
the spirit o' true warlockry is gane. He foretauld muckle
that has turned out true; an' something that I hope <1will>1 turn
out true: But ye're a' bairns to him.''
   ""Knight,'' said the stranger, ""I can tell you more than
ever the Rhymer conceived, or thought upon; and, moreover,
I can explain the words of True Thomas, which neither you
nor those to whom they relate in the smallest degree compre-
hend. Knowest thou the prophecy of the Hart and the Deer,
as it is called?

           "Quhere the hearte heavit in het blude over hill
             and howe,
           There shall the dinke deire droule for the dowe:
           Two fleite footyde maydenis shall tredde the greine,
           And the mone and the starre shall flashe betweine.
           Quhere the proude hiche haide and heveye hande
             beire
           Ane frenauch shall feide on ane faderis frene feire,
           In dinging at the starris the D shall doupe down,
           But the S shall be S quhane the heide S is gone. ' ''

   ""I hae heard the reide often and often,'' said the knight,
""but the man's unborn that can understand that. Though the
prophecies and the legends of the Rhymer take the lead i' my
lear, I hae always been obliged to make that a passover.''
   ""There is not one of all his sayings that relates as much to
you and your house, knight. It foretels that the arms of your
family shall supersede those of Douglas, which you know
are the bloody heart; and that in endeavouring to exalt himself
to the stars, the D, that is the Douglas, shall fall, but that
your house and name shall remain when the Stuarts are no
more.''
   ""By the horned beasts of Old England, my father's portion,
and my son's undiminished hope,'' exclaimed the knight,--
""Thou art a cunning man! I now see the bearing o' the
prophecy as plainly as I see the hill o' Mountcomyn before
my e'e; and, as I know Thomas never is wrong, I believe it.
Now is the time, auld warlock,--now is the time; he's ettling
at a king's daughter, but his neck lies in wad, and the forfeit
will be his undoing.''
   ""The time is not yet come, valiant knight; nevertheless
the prophecy is true. Has thy horse's hoof ever trode, or
thine eye journeyed, over the Nine Glens of Niddisdale?''
   ""I hae whiles gotten a glisk o' them.''
   ""They are extensive, rich, and beautiful.''
   ""They're nae less, auld carle; they're nae less. They can send
nine thousand leel men an' stout to the field in a pinch.''
   ""It is recorded in the book of fate,--it is written there--''
   ""The devil it is, auld carle; that's mair than I thought o'.''
   ""Hold thy peace: lay thine hand upon thy mouth, and be
silent till I explain: I say I have seen it in the visions of the
night,--I have seen it in the stars of heaven''--
   ""What? the Nine Glens o' Niddisdale amang the starns o'
heaven! by hoof and horn, it was rarely seen, warlock.''
   ""I say that I have seen it,--they are all to belong to thy
house.''
   ""Niddisdale a' to pertain to my house!''
   ""All.''
   ""Carle, I gie nae credit to sic forbodings; but I have heard
something like this afore. Will ye stay till I bring my son
Robin, the young Master of Mountcomyn, and let him hear
it? For aince a man takes a mark on his way, I wadna hae him
to tine sight o't. Mony a time has the tail o' the king's
elwand pointed me the way to Cumberland; an' as often has
the ee o' the Charlie-wain blinkit me hame again. A man's nae
the waur o' a bit beacon o' some kind,--a bit hope set afore
him, auld carle; an' the Nine Glens o' Niddisdale are nae
Willie-an-the-Wisp in a lad's ee.''
   ""From Roxburgh castle to the tower of Sark,''--
   ""What's the auld-warld birkie saying?''
   ""From the Deadwater-fell to the Linns of Cannoby,--from
the Linns of Cannoby to the heights of Manor and the
Deucharswire,--shall thy son, and the representatives of thy
house, ride on their own lands.''
   ""May ane look at your foot, carle? Take off that huge
wooden sandal, an it be your will.''
   ""Wherefore should I knight?''
   ""Because I dread ye are either the devil or Master Michael
Scott.''
   ""Whoever I am, I am a friend to you and to yours, and
have told you the words of truth. I have but one word more
to say:--Act always in concert with the Douglasses, while
they act in concert with the king your master,--not a day,
nor an hour, nor a moment longer. It is thus, and thus alone,
that you must rise and the Douglas fall. Remember the words
of True Thomas,--

     "Quhane the wingit hors at his malstere sal wince,
           "Let wyse men cheat the chevysance.' ''

   ""There is something mair about you than other folk, auld
man. If ye be my kinsman, Michael Scott the warlock, I crave
your pardon, Master; but if you are that dreadfu' carle--I
mean that learned and wonderfu' man, why you are welcome
to my castle. But you are not to turn my auld wife into a
hare, Master, an' hunt her up an' down the hills wi' my ain
grews; nor my callants into naigs to scamper about on i' the
night-time when they hae ither occupations to mind. There is
naething i' my tower that isna at your command; for, troth,
I wad rather brow a' the Ha's and the Howard's afore I beardit
you.''
   ""I set no foot in your halls, knight. This night is a night
among many to me; and wo would be to me if any thing
canopied my head save the cope of heaven. There are horo-
scopes to be read this night for a thousand years to come.
One cake of your bread and one cup of your wine is all that
the old wizard requests of you, and that he must have.''
   The knight turned back and led the seer into the inner-
court, and fed him with bread and wine, and every goodthing;
but well he noted that he asked no holy benediction on them
like the palmers and priors that wandered about the country;
and, therefore, he had some lurking dread of the old man.
He did not thank the knight for his courtesy, but, wiping his
snowy beard, he turned abruptly away, and strode out at the
gate of the castle. Sir Ringan kept an eye on him privately
till he saw him reach the top of Blake Law, a small dark hill
immediately above the castle. There he stopped and looked
around him, and taking two green sods, he placed the one
above the other, and laid himself down on his back, resting his
head upon the two sods,--his body half raised, and his eyes
fixed on heaven. The knight was almost frightened to look
at him; but sliding into the cleuch, he ran secretly down to
the tower to bring his lady to see this wonderful old warlock.
When they came back he was gone, and no trace of him to be
seen, nor saw they him any more at that time.
               CHAPTER II

               This man's the devil's fellow commoner,
               A verie cloake-bag of iniquitie.
               His batteries and his craboun he deschargeth
               Flasche, not by airt or reule. Is it meet
               A Ploydenist should be a <1cedant arma togae>1,
               Mounted on a trapt palfrey; with a dishe
               Of velvatte on his heide, to keepe the brothe
               Of his wit warm? The devil, my maisteris.
               There is no dame in Venice shall indure itt.
                                          <1Old Play>1

WHILST the knight and his lady were looking about in amaze-
ment for their mysterious guest, the tower-warder sounded
the great bugle, a tremendous horn that lay on a shelf in the
balcony where he kept watch. ""One--two--three,'' said the
knight, counting the three distinct notes,--a signal of which
he well knew the language,--""What can that mean? I am
wanted it would appear: another messenger from the Douglas,
I warrant.''
   ""Sir Ringan, keep by that is your own,'' said the lady--""I
say, mind your own concerns, and let the Douglas mind his.''
   ""Dame,'' said the chief, ""I hae gotten some mair insight
into that affair than you; an' we maun talk about it by an'
by. In the meantime let us haste home, and see who is arrived.''
   As they descended from the hill hand in hand, (for none
walked arm in arm in those days,) they saw Richard Dodds, a
landward laird, coming to meet them. ""Oh,'' said Sir Ringan,
""this is my officious cousin, Dickie o' Dryhope; what business
can he be come upon? It will be something that he deems of
great importance.''
   ""I hate that old fawning, flattering sycophant,'' said the
lady; ""and cannot divine what is the cause of your partiality
for him.''
   ""It is his attachment to our house that I admire, and his
perfect devotion to my service and interests,'' said the knight.
   ""Mere sound,'' exclaimed the lady bitterly ; ""Mere waste
of superfluous breath! I tell you, Sir Ringan, that, for all your
bravery, candour, and kindness, you are a mere novice in the
affairs of life, and know less of men and of things than ever
knight did-''
   ""It is a great fault in women,'' said the knight, making his
observation general, ""that they will aye be meddling wi' things
they ken nought about. They think they ken every thing, an'
wad gar ane trow that they can see an inch into a fir deal.--
Gude help them! It is just as unfeasible to hear a lady dis-
cussing the merits of warriors an' yeomen, as it wad be to see
me sitting nursing a wench-bairn.''
   ""Foh, what an uncourtly term!'' said the lady; ""What
would King Robert think if he heard you speaking in that
uncouth stile?''
   ""I speak muckle better than him, wi' his short clippit
Highland tongue,'' said the chief:  ""But hush, here comes
the redoubted Dickie o' Dryhope.''
   No sooner were the knight and his lady's eyes turned so as
to meet Dickie's, than he whipped off his bonnet with a
graceful swing, and made a low bow, his thin gray locks waving
as he bowed. Dickie was a tall, lean, toothless, old bachelor,
whose whole soul and body were devoted to the fair sex and
the house of his chief. These two mighty concerns divided his
attention, and often mingled with one another; his enthusiasm
for the one, by any sudden change of subjects or concaten-
ation of ideas, being frequently transferred to the other. Dickie
approached with his bonnet in his hand, bowing every time
the knight and lady lifted their eyes. When they met, Sir
Ringan shook him heartily by the hand, and welcomed him
to the castle of Mountcomyn.
   ""Oh, you are so good and so kind, Sir Ringan, bless you,
bless you, bless you, noble sir; how do you thrive, Sir Ringan?
bless you, bless you. And my excellent and noble lady
Mountcomyn, how is my noble dame?''
   ""Thank you,'' said the lady coldly.
   Dickie looked as if he would have shaken hands with her,
or embraced her, as the custom then was, but she made no
proffer of either the one or the other, and he was obliged to
keep his distance; but this had no effect in checking his
adulations. ""I am so glad that my excellent lady is well, and
the young squires and maidens all brisk and whole I hope?''
   ""All well, cousin,'' said the chief.
   ""Eh! all well?'' reiterated Dickie, ""Oh the dear, delightful,
darling souls, O bless them! If they be but as well as I wish
them, and as good as I wish--If the squires be but half so
brave as their father, and the noble young sweet dames half
so beautiful as their lady mother--oh bless them, bless them.''
""And half so independent and honest as their cousin,'' said
the lady, with a rebuking sneer.
   ""Very pleasant! very pleasant, indeed!'' simpered Dickie,
without daring to take his lips far asunder, lest his toothless
gums should be seen.
   ""Such babyish flummery!'' rejoined the lady with great
emphasis. Dickie was somewhat abashed. His eyes, that were
kindled with a glow of filial rapture, appeared as with flattened
pupils; nevertheless the benignant smile did not altogether
desert his features. The knight gave a short look off at one
side to his lady. ""It is a great fault in ladies, cousin,'' said he,
""that they will always be breaking their jokes on those that
they like best, and always pretending to keep at a distance
from them. My lady thinks to blind my een, as many a dame
has done to her husband afore this time; but I ken, an' some
mae ken too, that if there's ane o' a' my kin that I durstna
trust my lady wi' when my back's turned, that ane's Dickie
o' Dryhope.''
   ""H'm, h'm, h'm,'' neighed Dickie, laughing with his lips
shut; ""My lady's so pleasant, and so kind, but--Oh--no, no
--you wrong her, knight; h'm, h'm, h'm! But, all joking and
gibing aside--my lady's <1very>1 pleasant. I came express to in-
form you, Sir Ringan, that the Douglasses are up.''
   ""I knew it.''
   ""And the Maxwells--and the Gordons--and the hurkle-
backed Hendersons.''
   ""Well.''
   ""And Sir Christopher Seton is up--and the Elliots and the
Laird of Tibbers is up.''
   ""Well, well.''
   ""I came expressly to inform you--''
   ""Came with piper's news,'' said the lady, ""which the fiddler
has told before you.''
   ""That <1is very>1 good,'' said Dickie, ""My lady is so delight-
fully pleasant--I thought Sir Ringan would be going to rise
with the rest, and came for directions as to raising my men.''
   ""How many men can the powerful Laird of Dryhope muster
in support of the warden?'' said Lady Mountcomyn.
   ""Mine are all at his command; my worthy lady knows that,''
said Dickie, bowing: ""Every one at his command.''
   ""I think,'' said she, ""that at the battle of Blakehope you
furnished only two, who were so famished with hunger that
they could not bear arms, far less fight.''
   ""Very pleasant, in sooth; h'm, h'm! I declare I am delighted
with my lady's good humour.''
   ""You may, however, keep your couple of scare-crows at
home for the present, and give them something to eat,'' con-
tinued she; ""the warden has other matters to mind than was-
ting his vassals that the Douglas may wive.''
   ""Very true, and excellent good sense,'' said Dickie.
   ""We'll talk of that anon,'' said Sir Ringan. And with that
they went into the castle, and sat down to dinner. There were
twelve gentlemen and nine maidens present, exclusive of the
knight's own family, and they took their places on each side
as the lady named them. When Sir Ringan lifted up his eyes
and saw the station that Dickie occupied, he was dissatisfied,
but instantly found a remedy. ""Davie's Pate,'' said he to the
lad that waited behind him, ""mak that bowiefu' o' cauld plo-
vers change places wi' yon saut-faut instantly, before meat be
put to mouth.'' The order was no sooner given than obeyed,
and the new arrangement placed Dickie fairly above the salt.
   The dining apparatus at the castle of Mountcomyn was
homely, but the fare was abundant. A dozen yeomen stood
behind with long knives, and slashed down the beef and
venison into small pieces, which they placed before the guests
in wooden plates, so that there was no knife used at the
dining board. All ate heartily, but none with more industry
than Dickie, who took not even time all the while to make the
complaisant observation, that ""my lady was so pleasant.''
   Dinner being over, the younger branches of the family
retired, and all the kinsmen not of the first rank, pretending
some business that called them away, likewise disappeared; so
that none were left with the knight and his lady save six. The
lady tried the effect of several broad hints on Dickie, but he
took them all in good part, and declared that he never saw his
lady so pleasant in his life. And now a serious consultation
ensued, on the propriety of lending assistance to the Douglas.
Sir Ringan first put the question to his friends, without any
observation. The lady took up the argument, and reasoned
strongly against the measure. Dickie was in raptures with his
lady's good sense, and declared her arguments unanswerable.
Most of the gentlemen seemed to acquiesce in the same
measure, on the ground that, as matters stood, they could not
rise at the Douglas' call on that occasion, without being con-
sidered as a subordinate family, which neither the king nor
the Douglas had any right to suppose them; and so strongly
and warmly ran the argument on that side, that it was likely
to be decided on, without the chief having said a word on the
subject. Simon of Gemelscleuch alone ventured to dissent;
""I have only to remark, my gallant kinsmen,'' said he, ""that
our decision in this matter is likely to prove highly eventful.
Without our aid the force of the Douglas is incompetent to
the task, and the castle will then remain in the hands of the
English, than which nothing can be more grievously against
our interest. If he be defeated, and forfeit his lands, the power
of the Border will then remain with us; but should he succeed
without our assistance, and become the king's son-in-law, it
will be a hard game with us to keep the footing that we
have. I conceive, therefore, that in withdrawing our support
we risk every thing,--in lending it, we risk nothing but blows.''
All the kinsmen were silent. Dickie looked at my Lady
Mountcomyn.
   ""It is well known that there is an old prophecy existing,''
said she, ""that a Scott shall sit in the Douglas' chair, and be
lord of all his domains. Well would it be for the country if that
were so. But to support the overgrown power of that house is
not the way to accomplish so desirable an object.''
   ""That is true,'' said Dickie; ""I'll defy any man to go beyond
what my lady says, or indeed whatever she says.''
   ""Have we not had instances of their jealousy already?''
continued she.
   ""We have had instances of their jealousy already,'' said
Dickie, interrupting her.
   ""And should we raise him to be the king's son-in-law, he
would kick us for our pains,'' rejoined she.
   ""Ay, he would kick us for our pains,'' said Dickie; ""think
of that.''
   ""Either please to drop your responses, Sir,'' said she,
sternly, ""or leave the hall. I would rather hear a raven croak
on my turret in the day of battle, than the tongue of a flatterer
or sycophant.''
   ""That is very good indeed,'' said Dickie; ""My lady is so
pleasant; h'm, h'm, h'm! Excellent! h'm, h'm, h'm!''
   Sir Ringan saw his lady drawing herself up in high indig-
nation; and dreading that his poor kinsman would bring on
himself such a rebuke as would banish him the hall for ever,
he interposed. ""Cousin,'' said he, ""it's a great fault in women
that they canna bide interruption, an' the mair they stand in
need o't they take it the waur. But I have not told you all
yet: a very singular circumstance has happened to me this day.
Who do you think I found waylaying me at my gate, but our
kinsman, the powerful old warlock, Master Michael Scott.''
   ""Master Michael Scott!'' exclaimed the whole circle, every
one holding up his hands, ""has he ventured to be seen by man
once more? Then there is something uncommon to befal, or,
perhaps, the world is coming to an end.''
   ""God forbid!'' said Redhough: ""It is true that, for seven
years, he has been pent up in his enchanted tower at Aikwood,
without speaking to anyone save his spirits; but though I do
not know him, this must have been he, for he has told me such
things as will astonish you; and, moreover, when he left me,
he laid himself down on the top of the Little Law on his back,
and the devils carried him away bodily through the air, or
down through the earth, and I saw no more of him.''
   All agreed that it had been the great magician Master
Michael Scott. Sir Ringan then rehearsed the conversation that
had passed between the wizard and himself. All the circle
heard this with astonishment; some with suspense, and others
with conviction, but Dickie with raptures of delight. ""He
assured me,'' said Redhough, ""that my son should ride on his
own land from Roxburgh to the Deadwater-fell.''
    ""From Roxburgh to the Deadwater-fell!'' cried Dickie,
""think of that!  all the links of the bonny Teviot and
Slitterick, ha, ha, lads, think of that!'' and he clapped his
hands aloud without daring to turn his eyes to the head of the
table.
    ""And from the Deadwater-fell to the tower o' Sark,'' re-
joined the knight.
    ""To the tower of Sark!'' exclaimed Dickie. ""H--have a care
of us! think of that! All the dales of Liddel, and Ewes, and
the fertile fields of Cannobie! Who will be king of the Border,
then, my lads? who will be king of the Border then? ha, ha,ha!''
    ""And from the fords of Sark to the Deuchar-swire,'' added
Sir Ringan.
    Dickie sprang to his feet, and seizing a huge timber trencher,
he waved it round his head. The chief beckoned for silence;
but Dickie's eyes were glistening with raptures, and it was with
great difficulty he repressed his vociferations.
    ""And over the Nine Glens of Niddisdale beside,'' said Sir
Ringan.
    Dickie could be restrained no longer. He brayed out,
""Hurrah, hurrah!'' and waved his trencher round his head.
    ""All the Esk, and the braid Forest, and the Nine Glens o'
Niddisdale! Hurrah! Hurrah! Mountcomyn for ever! The war-
den for ever! hu, hu! hu!''
    The knight and his friends were obliged to smile at Dickie's
outrageous joy; but the lady rose and went out in high dud-
geon. Dickie then gave full vent to his rapture without any
mitigation of voice, adding, ""My lady for ever!'' to the former
two; and so shouting, he danced around, waving his immense
wooden plate.
    The frolic did not take, and Sir Ringan was obliged to call
him to order. ""You do not consider, cousin,'' said the warden,
""that what a woman accounts excellent sport at one time is at
another high offence. See, now, you have driven my lady
away from our consultation, on whose advice I have a strong
reliance; and I am afraid we will scarcely prevail on her to
come back.''
    ""Oh! there's no fear of my lady and me,'' said Dickie; we
understand one another. My lady is a kind, generous, noble
soul, and so pleasant!
    ""For as pleasant and kind as she is, I am deceived if she is
easily reconciled to you. Ye dinna ken Kate Dunbar, cousin.--
Boy, tell your lady that we lack her counsel, and expect that
she will lend us it for a short space.''
    The boy did as he was ordered, but returned with an an-
swer, that unless Dickie was dismissed she did not choose to
be of the party.
    ""I am sorry for it,'' said Sir Ringan; ""but you may tell her
that she may then remain where she is, for I can't spare my
cousin Dickie now, nor any day these five months.'' And with
that he began and discussed the merits of the case <1pro>1 and
<1con>1 with his kinsmen, as if nothing had happened; and in the
end it was resolved, that, with a thousand horsemen, they
would scour the east border to intercept all the supplies that
should be sent out of England, and thus enrich themselves,
while, at the same time, they would appear to countenance
the mad undertaking of Douglas.
                         CHAPTER III

   ""Come, come, my hearts of flint; modestly; decent!y; soberly; and hand-
somely.--No man afore his leader.--Ding down the enemy to-morrow,--ye shall
not come into the field like beggars.--Lord have mercy upon me, what a world
this is!--Well, I'll give an hundred pence for as many good feathers, and a hundred
more for as many scarts:--wounds, dogs, to set you out withal Frost and snow, a
man cannot fight till he be brave! I say down with the enemy to-morrow!''
                                             <1Sir John Oldcastle>1

THE castle of Roxburgh was beleaguered by seven thousand
men in armour, but never before had it been so well manned,
or rendered so formidable in its butresses; and to endeavour to
scale it, appeared as vain an attempt as that of scaling the
moon.
   There was a great deal of parading, and noise went on, as
that of beating drums, and sounding of trumpets and bugles,
every day; and scarcely did there one pass on which there were
not tilting bouts between the parties, and in these the English
generally had the advantage. Never was there, perhaps, a more
chivalrous host than that which Musgrave had under his
command within the walls of Roxburgh; the enthusiasm, the
gallantry, and the fire of the captain, were communicated to
all the train.
   Their horses were much superior to those of the Scots; and,
in place of the latter being ablc to make any impression on
the besieged, they could not, with all the vigilance they were
able to use, prevent their posts from being surprised by the
English, on which the most desperate encounters sometimes
took place. At first the English generally prevailed, but the
Scots at length became inured to it, and stood the shocks of
the cavalry more firmly. They took care always at the first on-
set to cut the bridle reins with their broad-swords, and by that
means they disordered the ranks of their enemies, and often
drove them in confusion back to their stronghold.
   Thus months flew on in this dashing sort of warfare, and
no impression was made on the fortress, nor did any appear
practicable; and every one at court began to calculate on the
failure and utter ruin of the Douglas. Piercy of Northumber-
land proffered to raise the country, and lead an army to the
relief of the castle; but this interference Musgrave would in
nowise admit, it being an infringement of the task imposed
on him by his mistress.
   Moreover, he said, he cared not if all the men of Scotland
lay around the castle, for he would defy them to win it.
He farther bade the messenger charge Piercy and Howard to
have an army ready at the expiry of the Christmas holidays,
wherewith to relieve him, and clear the Border, but to take no
care nor concern about him till then.
   About this time an incident, right common in that day,
brought a number of noble young adventurers to the camp of
Douglas. It chanced, in an encounter between two small rival
parties at the back of the convent of Maisondieu, which stood
on the south side of the Teviot, that Sir Thomas de Somerville
of Carnwath engaged hand to hand with an English knight,
named Sir Comes de Moubray, who, after a desperate encoun-
ter, unhorsed and wounded him. The affair was seen from the
walls of Roxburgh, as well as by a part of the Scottish army
which was encamped on a rising ground to the south, that
overlooked the plain; and, of course, like all other chivalrous
feats, became the subject of general conversation. Somerville
was greatly mortified; and, not finding any other way to
recover his honour, he sent a challenge to Moubray to fight
him again before the gate of Roxburgh, in sight of both armies.
Moubray was too gallant to refuse. There was not a knight in
the castle who would have declined such a chance of earning
fame, and recommending himself to his mistress and the fair
in general. The challenge was joyfully accepted, and the two
knights met in the midst of a circle of gentlemen appointed
by both armies, on the castle green, that lay betwixt the moat
and the river, immediately under the walls of the castle. Never
was there a more gallant combat seen. They rode nine times
against each other with full force, twice with lances and seven
times with swords, yet always managed with such dexterity
that neither were unhorsed, nor yet materially wounded. But
at the tenth charge, by a most strenuous exertion, Sir Thomas
disarmed and threw his opponent out of his saddle, with his
sword-arm dislocated. Somerville gained great renown, and
his fame was sounded in court and in camp. Other challenges
were soon sent from both sides, and as readily accepted; and
some of the best blood both of Scotland and England was
shed in these mad chivalrous exploits. The ambition of the
young Scottish nobles was roused, and many of them flocked
as volunteers to the standard of Douglas. Among these were
some of the retainers of Redhough, who could not resist such
an opportunity of trying their swords with some rivals with
whom they had erst exchanged sharp blows on the marches.
Simon of Gemelscleuch, his cousin John of Howpasley, and
the Laird of Yard-bire, all arrived in the camp of Douglas in
one night, in order to distinguish themselves in these tilting
bouts. Earl Douglas himself challenged Musgrave, hoping there-
by to gain his end, and the prize for which he fought; but the
knight, true to his engagement, sent him for answer, that he
would first see the beginning of a new year, and then he should
fight either him or any of his name, but that till then he had
undertaken a charge to which all others must be subordinate.
   The Laird of Yardbire, the strongest man of the Border,
fought three combats with English squires of the same degree,
two on horseback and one on foot, and in all proved victorious.
For one whole month the siege presented nothing new save
these tiltings, which began at certain hours every day, and
always became more obstinate, often proving fatal; and the
eagerness of the young gentry of both parties to engage in
them grew into a kind of mania: But an event happened which
put an end to them at once.
   There was a combat one day between two knights of the
first degree, who were surrounded as usual by twenty lancers
from each army, all the rest of both parties being kept at a
distance, the English on the tops of their walls, and the
Scots on the heights behind, both to the east and west; for
there was one division of the army stationed on the hill of
Barns and at the head of the Sick-man's Path, and another
on the rising ground between the city and castle. The two
gentlemen were equally matched, and the issue was doubtful,
when the attendant Scottish guards perceived, or thought they
perceived, in the bearing of the English knight, some breach
of the rules of chivalry; on which with one voice they called
out ""foul play.'' The English answered, ""No, no, none.'' The
two judges called to order, on which the spearmen stood still
and listened, and hearing that the judges too were of different
opinions, they took up the matter themselves, the Scots
insisting that the knight should be disarmed and turned from
the lists in disgrace, and the English refusing to acquiesce.
The judges, dreading some fatal conclusion, gave their joint
orders that both parties should retire in peace, and let the
matter be judged of afterwards; on which the English prepared
to quit the ground with a kind of exultation, for it appeared
that they were not certain with regard to the propriety of
their hero's conduct. Unluckily, it so happened that the re-
doubted Charlie Scott of Yard-bire headed the Scottish pike-
men on the lists that day, a very devil for blood and battery,
and of strength much beyond that generally allotted to man.
When he saw that the insidious knight was going to be con-
ducted off in a sort of triumph, and in a manner so different
from what he deemed to suit his demerits, he clenched the
handle of his sword with his right hand, and screwed down his
eyebrows till they almost touched the top of his nose. ""What
now, muckle Charlie?'' said one that stood by him. ""What
now!'' repeated Charlie, growling like a wolf-dog, and confi-
ning the words almost within his own breast, ""The deil sal
bake me into a ker-cake to gust his gab wi', afore I see that
saucy tike ta'en off in sic a way.'' And with that he dropt his
pike, drew his sword, and rushing through the group he seized
the knight's horse by the bridle with his left hand, thinking to
lead both him and his master away prisoners. The knight
struck at him with all his might, but for this Charlie was pre-
pared; he warded the blow most dexterously, and in wrath, by
the help of a huge curb-bridle, he threw the horse backward,
first on his hams, and then on his back, with his rider under
him. ""Tak ye that, master, for whistling o' Sundays,'' said the
intrepid borderer, and began to lay about him at the English,
who now attacked him on both sides.
   Charlie's first break at the English knight was the watch-
word for a general attack. The Scots flew to the combat, in
perfect silence, and determined hatred, and they were received
by the other party in the same manner. Not so the onlookers
of both hosts,--they rent the air with loud and reiterated
shouts. The English poured forth in a small narrow column
from the east gate along the draw-bridge, but the Scottish
horsemen, who were all ready mounted, the better to see the
encounter from their stations, scoured down from the heights
like lightning, so that they prevailed at first, before the English
could issue forth in numbers sufficient to oppose them. The
brave Sir Richard Musgrave, the captain's younger brother,
led the English, he having rushed out at their head on the first
breaking out of the affray; but, notwithstanding all his bravery,
he with his party were driven with their backs to the moat,
and hard pressed, Douglas, with a strong body of horse, having
got betwixt them and the castle-gate. The English were so
anxious to relieve their young hero that they rushed to the gate
in crowds. Douglas suffered a part to issue, and then attacking
them furiously with the cavalry, he drove them back in such
confusion, that he got possession of the drawbridge for several
minutes, and would in all likelihood have entered with the
crowd, had it not been for the portcullis, the machinery of
which the Scots did not understand, nor had they the means
of counteracting it; so that just when they were in the hottest
and most sanguine part of their enterprize, down it came with
a clattering noise louder than thunder, separating a few of the
most forward from their brethren, who were soon every one
cut down, as they refused to yield.
   In the meantime it fared hard with Richard, who was over-
powered by numbers; and though the English archers galled
the Scottish cavalry grievously from the walls, he and all that
were with him being forced backward, they plunged into the
moat, and were every one of them either slain or taken pri-
soners. The younger Musgrave was among the latter, which
grieved his brother Sir Philip exceedingly, as it gave Douglas
an undue advantage over him, and he knew that, in the des-
perate state of his undertaking, he would go any lengths to
over-reach him. From that day forth, all challenges or accept-
ing of challenges was prohibited by Musgrave, under pain of
death; and a proclamation was issued, stating, that all who
entered the castle should be stripped naked, searched, and
examined, on what pretence soever they came, and if any
suspicious circumstances appeared against them, they were
to be hanged upon a post erected for the purpose, on the top
of the wall, in sight of both armies. He was determined to spare
no vigilance, and constantly said he would hold Douglas at
defiance.
   There was only one thing that the besieged had to dread,
and it was haply, too, the only thing in which the Scots placed
any degree of hope, and that was the total failure of provisions
within the castle. Musgrave's Plan, of getting small supplies at
a time from England by night, was discovered by Sir Ringan
Redhough, and completely cut off: and as Douglas hanged
every messenger that fell into his hands, no new plan could be
established; and so closely were the English beleaguered, that
any attempt at sending additional supplies to those they had
proved of no avail. The rival armies always grew more and more
inveterate against each other, and the most sharp and deadly
measures were exercised by both. Matters went on in this
manner till near the end of October, when the nights grew
cold, long, and dark. There was nothing but the perils of that
castle on the Border talked of over all Scotland and England.
Every one, man, maid, and child, became interested in it. It
may well be conceived that the two sovereign beauties, the
Lady Jane Howard and Princess Margaret of Scotland, were
not the least so; and both of them prepared, at the same time,
in the true spirit of the age, to take some active part in the
matter before it came to a final issue. One of them seemed
destined to lose her hero, but both had put on the resolution
of performing something worthy of the knights that were
enduring so much for their sakes.
             CHAPTER IV

             And O that pegis weste is slymme,
             And his ee waid garr the daye luke dymme;
             His broue is brente, his brestis fayre,
             And the deemonde lurkis in hys revan hayre.
             Alake for thilke bonnye boye sae leile
             That lyes withe oure Kynge in the hie-lande shiele!
                                        <1Old Rhyme>1
             I winna gang in. I darena gang in.
                   Nor sleep i' your arms ava:
             Fu' laithly wad a fair may sleep
                   Atween you an' the wa'.
             War I to lie wi' a belted knight.
                   In a land that's no my ain,
             Fu' dear wad be my courtesye,
                   An' dreich wad be my pain.
                                         <1Old Ballad>1

ONE cold biting evening at the beginning of November, Patrick
Chisholm of Castleweary, an old yeoman in the upper part of
Teviotdale, sat conversing with his family all in a merry and
cheerful mood. They were placed in a circle round a blazing
hearth fire, on which hung a huge caldron, boiling and bubb-
ling like the pool at the foot of a cataract. The lid was sus-
pended by a rope to the iron crook on which this lordly
machine was hung, to intercept somewhat the showers of
soot that now and then descended from the rafters. These
appeared as if they had been covered with pitch or black
japanning; and so violently was the kettle boiling, that it
made the roof of Pate Chisholm's bigging all to shiver. Not-
withstanding these showers of soot, Pate and his four goodly
sons eyed the boiling caldron with looks of great satisfaction,--
for ever and anon the hough of an immense leg of beef was
to be seen cutting its capers in the boil, or coming with a
graceful semicircular sweep from one lip of the pot to the
other.
   ""Is it true, callants,'' said Pate, ""that Howard is gaun to
make a diversion, as they ca't, in the west border, to draw off
the warden frae the Cheviots?''
   ""As muckle is said, an' as muckle expectit,'' said Dan, his
first born, a goodly youth, who, with his three brethren, sat
in armour. They had come home to their father's house that
night with their share of a rich prey that the warden had kid-
napped while just collecting to send to Roxburgh under a
guard of five thousand men. But Sir Ringan, getting intelligence
of it, took possession of the drove before it was placed
under the charge of those intended to guard it.
   ""As muckle is said, an' as muckle is expectit,'' said Dan;
""but the west border will never turn out sae weel to us as the
east has done. It's o'er near the Johnstones, and the Jardines,
and the hurklebackit Hendersons.''
   Pate looked from under his bonnet at the hough of beef.--
""The Cheviot hills hae turned weel out for the warden,'' con-
tinued Dan; ""Redhough an' his lads hae been as weel scrieving
o'er law and dale as lying getting hard pelts round the stane
wa's o' Roxburgh, an' muckle mair gude has he done; for gin
they dinna hunger them out o' their hauddin, they'll keep it.
Ye'll draw an Englishman by the gab easier than drive him wi'
an airn gaud. I wad ride fifty miles to see ony ane o' the
bonny dames that a' this pelting an' peching is about.''
   ""Twa wanton glaikit gillies, I'll uphaud,'' said Pate, looking
at the restless hough; ""o'er muckle marth i' the back, an'
meldar i' the brusket.  Gin I had the heffing o' them, I
sude tak a staup out o' their bickers.--Whisht, I thought I
heard the clanking o' horse heels.--Callant, clap the lid down
on the pat; what hae they't hinging geaving up there for?''
   The clattering of the horses approached, but apparently
with caution; and at length a voice called at the door in an
English accent, ""Hollo, who holds here?'' ""Leel men, an' for
the Scots,'' answered Dan, starting to his feet, and laying his
hand on his sword. ""For the knight of Mountcomyn, the
Scottish warden? --inquired the horseman without. "For the
same,'' was the answer. ""It is toward his castle that we are
bound. Can any of you direct us the way?''
   ""Troth, that I can,'' said old Pate, groping to satisfy him-
self that the lid was close down on the pot, and then running
to the door; ""I can tell you every fit o' the road, masters:
You maun gang by the Fanesh, you see; it lies yon way,
you see; an' then up the Brown rig, as straight as a line through
Philhope-head, an' into Borthwick; then up Aitas-burn,--round
the Crib-law,--an' wheel to the right; then the burn that ye
come to there, ye maun cross that, and three miles farther on
you come to the castle of Mountcomyn.--Braw cheer there
lads!''
   ""I am afraid, friend,'' said the English trooper, ""we will
make nothing of this direction. Is it far to this same castle of
the Scottish warden?''
   ""O no, naething but a step, some three Scots miles.''
   ""And how is the road?''
   ""A prime road, man; no a step in't a' wad tak your horse
to the brusket; only there's nae track; ye maun just take an
ettle. Keep an ee on the tail o' Charlie's wain, an' ye'll no
gang far wrang.''
   ""Our young lord and master is much fatigued,'' said the
trooper; ""I am afraid we shall scarcely make it out. Pray, sir,
could you spare us a guide?''
   Dan, who was listening behind, now stepped forward, and
addressed them: ""My masters, as the night is o' darkness, I
could hardly ride to Mountcomyn mysel, an', far or near, I
couldna win there afore day. Gin ye dought accept o' my
father's humble cheer the night--''
   ""The callant's bewiddied, an' waur than bewiddied,'' said
Pate: ""We haena cheer for oursels, let abe for a byking o'
English lords an' squires!''
   ""I would gladly accept of any accommodation,'' said a
sweet delicate voice, like that of a boy; ""for the path has been
so dreadful that I am almost dead, and unable to proceed
further. I have a safe-conduct to the Scottish court, signed by
all the wardens of the marches, and every knight, yeoman,
and vassal is obliged to give me furtherance.''
   ""I dinna ken muckle about conducks an' signatures,'' said
Pate, ""but I trow there winna be mony syllables in some o' the
names if a' the wardens hae signed your libelt; for I ken weel
there's ane o' them whase edication brak aff at the letter G,
an' never gat farrer. But I'm no ca'ing ye a leear, southron
lord, ye may be a vera honest man; an' as your errand may be
something unco express, ye had better post on.''
   ""It sal never be casten up to me neither in camp nor ha,''
said Dan, ""that a stranger was cawed frae my auld father's
door at this time o' the night. Light down, light down,
southron lord, ye are a privileged man; an', as I like to see the
meaning o' things, I'll ride wi' ye mysel the morn, fit for fit,
to the castle o' Mountcomyn.''
   The strangers were soon all on their feet, and ushered into
the family circle, for there was no fire-place in the house but
that one. They consisted of five stout troopers, well armed, a
page, and a young nobleman, having the appearance of a
youth about seventeen or eighteen years of age. Every eye
was instantly turned on him, there was something so extra-
ordinary in his appearance. Instead of a steel helmet, he wore
a velvet cap, shaped Iike a crown, striped with belts, bars,
and crosses of gold wire, and manifestly more for ornament
than use. His fair ringlets were peeping in curls out from
below his cap, and his face and bright blue eyes were lovely as
the dawn of a summer's morning.
   They were not well seated till a noise of the tread of
horses was again heard.
   ""The warld be a-wastle us!'' cried old Pate, ""wha's that
now? I think fouk will be eaten up wi' fouk, an' naething for
fouk's pains but dry thanks;--thanks winna feed the cat--''
   He was stopped in his regretful soliloquy by a rough voice
at the door: ""Ho, wha hauds the house?'' The same answer
was given as to the former party, and in a minute the strangers
entered without law or leave.
   ""Ye travel unco late, maisters,'' said old Pate: ""How far
may ye be for the night?''
   ""We meant to have reached the tower of Gorranberry to-
night,'' said one of the strangers, ""but we have been benighted,
and were drawn hither by the light in your bole. I fear we
must draw on your hospitality till day.''
   ""Callant Peter, gang an' stap a wisp i' that bole,'' said Pate;
""it seems to be the beacon light to a' the clanjaumphry i' the
hale country. I tauld ye aye to big it up; but no ane o' ye
heeds what I say. I hae seen houses that <1some>1 fouk whiles
gaed by. But, my maisters, its nae gate ava to Gorranberry,--a
mere haut-stride-and-loup. I'll send a guide to Bilhope-head
wi' ye; for troth we hae neither meat nor drink, house-room
nor stabling, mair about the toun. We're but poor yeomen,
an' haud our mailin for hard service. We hae tholed a foray
the night already, an' a double ane wad herrie us out o' house
an' hauld. The warld be a' wastle us! I think a' the mosstroopers
be abraid the night! Bairns, swee that bouking o' claes aff
the fire; ye'll burn it i' the boiling.''
   The new comers paid little attention to this address of the
old man; they saw that he was superannuated, and had all the
narrow selfishness that too generally clings to that last miser-
able stage of human exisence; but drawing nigh they began
to eye the southron party with looks of dark suspicion, if
not of fierceness.
   ""I see what maks ye sae frightet at our entrance here,''
said the first Scots trooper, ye hae some southron spies amang
ye-- Gudeman, ye sal answer to the king for this, an' to the
Douglas too, whilk ye'll find a waur job.''
   ""Ken where ye are, an' wha ye're speaking to,'' said Dan,
stepping forward and browing the last speaker face to face:
""If either the ae party or the ither be spies, or aught else but
leel men, ye shall find, ere ye gang far, whase land ye are on,
an' whase kipples ye are under. That auld man's my father,
an,' doitet as he is, the man amang ye that says a saucy word
to him I'll gar sleep in his shoon a fit shorter than he rase i'
the morning. Wha are ye, sir, or where do you travel by
night on my master the warden's bounds?''
   ""Sir.'' answered another trooper, who seemed to be rather
a more polished man, ""I applaud your spirit, and will answer
your demand.  We go with our lord and master, Prince
Alexander Stuart of Scotland, on a mission to a noble English
family. Here is the king's seal as well as a pass signed by the
English warden. We are leel men and true.''
   ""Where is the prince?'' said Dan: ""A prince of Scotland i'
my father's house? Which is he?''
   A slender elegant stripling stept forward. ""Here he is, brave
yeoman,'' said the youth: ""No ceremony--Regard me as your
fellow and companion for this night.''
   Dan whipped off his bonnet and clapped his foot upon it,
and bowing low and awkwardly to his prince he expressed his
humble respect as well as he could, and then presented the
prince to his father. The title sounded high in the old man's
ears, he pulled off his bonnet and looked with an unsteady
gaze, as if uncertain on whom to fix it--""A prince! Eh?--Is he
a prince o' Scotland? Ay, ay!'' said he, ""Than he'll maybe hae
some say wi' our head men--Dan--I say, Dan''--and with that
he pulled Dan's sleeve, and said in a whisper loud enough to
be heard over all the house,--""I say, Dan, man, gin he wad
but speak to the warden to let us hae a' the land west the
length o' the Frosty lair. O it wad lie weel into ours.'' ""It wad,
father, and I daresay we may get it; but hush just now.'' ""Eh?
do you think we may get it?'' enquired the old man eagerly in
the same whispering tremulous voice, ""O man, it wad lie
weel in; an' sae wad Couter's-cleuch. It's no perfect wanting
that too. An' we wad be a great deal the better o' twa or
three rigs aff Skelfhill for a bit downfa' to the south--See if
ye can speak to the lad.''
   Dan shook his father's hand, and nodded to him by way of
acquiescence. The old man brightened up: ""Whar is your titty
Bessy, Dan? Whar are a' the idle hizzies? Gar them get some-
thing set down to the princely lad: I'se warrant he's e'en
hungry. Ye'll no be used til siccan roads as thir, Sir? Na, na.
They're unco roads for a prince.--Dan, I say, come this way;
I want to speak to you--I say,'' (whispering very low aside)
""I wadna let them ken o' the beef, or they'll just gang wi't.
Gie them milk an' bread, an' cheese, an' a drap o' the broo;
it will do weel aneuch. Hunger's good sauce. But, Dan,--I say,
could ye no contrive to get quat o' thae English? I doubt
there will be little made o' them.--They're but a wheen gillie-
gaupies at the best, an nae freends to us.--Fouk sude ay bow
to the bush they get bield frae.''
   ""It's a' true that ye say, father; but we surely needna
grudge an Englishman a piece o' an English cow's hip.--The
beef didna cost you dear, an' there's mair where it cam frae.''
   The old man would not give up his point, but persisted
in saying it was a dangerous experiment, and an unprofitable
waste. However, in spite of his remonstrances, the board was
loaded with six wooden bickers filled with beef broth, plenty
of bear-meal bannocks, and a full quarter of English ox beef,
to which the travellers did all manner of justice. The prince, as
he called himself, was placed at the head of the table, and
the young English nobleman by his side. Their eyes were
scarcely ever turned from one another's faces, unless in a
casual hasty glance to see how others were regarding the
same face. The prince had dark raven hair that parted on a
brow of snow, a black liquid eye, and round lips, purer than
the cherry about to fall from the tree with ripeness. He was
also a degree taller than the English lord; but both of them,
as well as their two pages, were lovelier than it became men
to be. The troopers who attended them seemed disposed to
contradict every thing that came from the adverse party, and,
if possible, to broach a quarrel, had it not been for the two
knights, who were all suavity, good breeding, and kindness to
each other, and seemed to have formed an attachment at
first sight. At length Prince Alexander inquired of his new
associate his name, and business at the Scottish court, provided,
he said, that it did not require strict secrecy. The other said,
he would tell him every thing truly, on condition that he
would do the same: which being agreed to, the young English
nobleman proceeded as follows:
   ""My name is Lord Jasper Tudor, second son to the Earl
of Pembroke. I am nearly related to the throne of England,
and in high favour with the king. The wars on the Borders
have greatly harassed the English dalesmen for these many
years, and matters being still getting worse between the nations,
the king, my cousin, has proposed to me to marry the Prin-
cess Margaret of Scotland, and obtain as her dowry a con-
firmation of these border lands and castles, so that a perman-
ent peace may be established between the nations, and this
bloody and desperate work cease. I am on my way to the
Scottish court to see the princess, your sister; and if I find
her to be as lovely and accomplished as fame speaks her, I
intend to comply with the king's request, and marry her
forthwith.''
   This speech affected the prince so much that all the guests
wondered. He started to his feet, and smiling in astonishment
said, ""What, you? you marry m--m--my sister Margaret? She
is very much beholden to you, and on my word she will see a
becoming youth. But are you sure that she will accept of you
for a husband?'' ""I have little to fear on that head,'' said the
Lord Jasper Tudor jeeringly; ""Maids are in general not much
averse to marriage; and, if I am well informed, your lovely
sister is as little averse to it as any of her contemporaries.''
   The prince blushed deep at this character of his sister, but
had not a word to say.
   ""Pray,'' continued Tudor, ""is she like you? If she is, I
think I shall love her,--I would not have her just like you
neither.''
   ""I believe,'' said the prince, ""there is a strong family like-
ness; but tell me in what features you would wish her to
differ from me, and I will describe her minutely to you.''
   ""In the first place,'' said the amorous and blue-ey'd Tudor,
""I should like her to be a little stouter, and more manly of
frame than you, and, at least, to have some appearance of a
beard.''
   All the circle stared. ""The devil you would, my lord,''
said Dan; ""Wad ye like your wife to hae a beard, in earnest?
Gude faith, an your ain war like mine, ye wad think ye had
eneuch o't foreby your wife's.'' The prince held up his hands
in astonishment, and the young English lord blushed deeper
than it behoved a knight to do; but at length he tried to laugh
it by, pretending that he had unwittingly said one thing when
he meant the very contrary, for he wished her to be more
feminine, and have less beard.''--""I think that will hardly be
possible,'' said Dan; ""but perhaps there may be a hair here an'
there on my lord the prince's chin, when ane comes near it.
I wadna disparage ony man, far less my king's son.''
   ""Well, my noble lord,'' said the prince, ""your tale has not
a little surprised me, as well it may. Our meeting here in like
circumstances is the most curious rencounter I ever knew;
for, to tell you the plain truth, I am likewise on an errand of
the same import, being thus far on my way to see and court
the lady Jane Howard, in order that all her wide domains may
be attached to my father's kingdom, and peace and amity
thereby established on the border.''
   ""Gracious heaven!'' said young Lord Tudor, ""can this that
I hear be true? You? Are you on your way to my cousin, the
lady Jane Howard? Why, do you not know that she is already
affianced to Lord Musgrave?''
   ""Yes, it is certain I do; but that is one of my principal in-
ducements to gain her from him; that is quite in the true
spirit of gallantry; but, save her great riches, I am told she
has little else to recommend her,'' said the prince.
   ""And, pray, how does fame report of my cousin Jane?''
said Tudor.
   ""As of a shrew and a coquette,'' answered the prince; ""a
wicked minx, that is intemperate in all her passions.''
   ""It is a manifest falsehood,'' said Tudor, his face glowing
with resentment, ""I never knew a young lady so moderate
and chastened in every passion of the female heart. Her most
private thoughts are pure as purity itself, and her--.''
   ""But, begging your pardon, my lord, how can you possibly
know all this?'' said the prince.
   ""I do know it,'' said the other, ""it is no matter how: I can-
not hear my fair cousin wronged; and I know that she will
remain true to Musgrave, and have nothing to do with you.''
   ""I will bet an earldom on that head, said the prince, ""if I
chuse to lay siege to her.''
   ""Done!'' said the other, and they joined hands on the bar-
gain; but they had no sooner laid their hands into one another's
than they hastily withdrew them, with a sort of trepidation,
that none of the lookers on, save the two pages, who kept
close by their masters, appeared to comprehend. They, too,
were both mistaken in the real cause; but of that it does not
behove to speak at present.
   ""I will let you see,'' said the prince, recovering himself,
""that this celebrated cousin of yours shall not be so ill to win
as the castle of Roxburgh; and I'll let Musgrave see for how
much truth and virgin fidelity he has put his life in his hand;
and when I have her I'll cage her, for I don't like her. I would
give that same earldom to have her in my power to-night.''
   The young Lord Tudor looked about as if he meditated an
escape to another part of the table; but, after a touch that
his page gave him on the sleeve, he sat still, and mustered up
courage for a reply.
   ""And pray, sir prince, what would you do with her if you
had her in your power to-night?''
   ""Something very different from what I would do with you,
my lord. But please describe her to me, for my very heart is
yearning to behold her,--describe every point of her form, and
lineament of her features.''
   ""She is esteemed as very beautiful; for my part I think her
but so so,'' said Tudor: ""She has fair hair, light full blue eyes,
and ruddy cheeks; and her brow, I believe, is as fine and as
white as any brow can be.''
   ""O frightful! what a description! what an ugly minx it
must be! Fair hair! red, I suppose, or dirty dull yellow! Light
blue eyes! mostly white I fancy? Ah, what a frightful immo-
dest ape it must be! I could spit upon the huzzy!''
   ""Mary shield us!'' exclaimed young Tudor, moving farther
away from the prince, and striking lightly with his hand on
his doublet as if something unclean had been squirted on it.
""Mary shield us! What does the saucy Scot mean?''
   Every one of the troopers put his hand to his sword, and
watched the eye of his master. The prince beckoned to the
Scots to be quiet; but Lord Tudor did no such thing, for he
was flustered and wroth.
   ""Pardon me, my lord,'' said the prince, ""I may perhaps
suffer enough from the beauty and perfections of your fair
cousin after I see her; you may surely allow me to deride
them now. I am trying to depreciate the charms I dread. But
I do not like the description of her. Tell me seriously do you
not think her very intolerable?''
   ""I tell you, prince, I think quite otherwise. I believe Jane
to be fifty times more lovely than any dame in Scotland;
and a hundred times more beautiful than your tawny virago
of a sister, whom I shall rejoice to tame like a spaniel. The
haughty, vain, conceited, swart venom, that she should lay
her commands on the Douglas to conquer or die for her! A
fine presumption, forsooth! But the world shall see whether
the charms of my cousin, Lady Jane Howard, or those of
your grim and tawdry princess, have most power.''
   ""Yes, they shall, my lord,'' said the prince: ""In the mean
time let us drop the subject. I see I have given you offence,
not knowing that you were in love with Lady Jane, which now
I clearly see to be the case. Nevertheless, go on with the
description, for I am anxious to hear all about her, and I
promise to approve if there be a bare possibility of it.''
   ""Her manner is engaging, and her deportment graceful and
easy; her waist is slim, and her limbs slender and elegant
beyond any thing you ever saw,'' said Lord Tudor.
   ""O shocking!'' exclaimed the prince, quite forgetting him-
self; ""Worst of all! I declare I have no patience with the
creature. After such a description, who can doubt the truth
of the reports about the extreme levity of her conduct?
Confess now, my lord, that she is very free of her favours, and
that the reason why so many young gentlemen visit her is now
pretty obvious.''
   High offence was now manifest in Lord Jasper Tudor's
look. He rose from his seat, and said in great indignation,
""I did not ween I should be insulted in this guise by the mean-
est peasant in Scotland, far less by one of its courtiers, and
least of all by a prince of the blood royal. Yeomen, I will not,
I cannot suffer this degradation. These ruffian Scots are
intruders on us,--here I desire that you will expel them the
house.''
   The Prince of Scotland was at the head of the table, Tudor
was at his right hand; the rest of the English were all on that
side, the Scots on the other,--their numbers were equal. Dan
and his three brethren sat at the bottom of the board around
the old man, who had been plying at the beef with no ordinary
degree of perseverance, nor did he cease when the fray began.
Every one of the two adverse parties was instantly on his
feet, with his sword gleaming in his hand; but finding that
the benches from which they had arisen hampered them, they
with one accord sprung on the tops of these, and crossed
their swords. The pages screamed like women. The two noble
adventurers seemed scarcely to know the use of their weapons,
but looked on with astonishment. At length the prince, some-
what collecting himself, drew out his shabby whanger, and
brandished it in a most unwarlike guise, on which the blue-
eyed Tudor retreated behind his attendants, holding up his
hands, but still apparently intent on revenge for the vile
obloquy thrown on the character of <1his cousin,>1 Lady Jane
Howard. ""Tis just pe te shance she vantit,'' said the Scot
next to the prince.
  ""My certy, man, we'll get a paick at the louns now,'' said
the second.
  ""Fat te teel's ta'en 'e bits o' vee laddies to flee a' eet abeet
'er buts o' wheers? I wudnae hae my feet i' their sheen for
three plucks an a beedle,'' said the third.
  ""Thou's a' i' the wrang buox now, chaps,'' said the fourth.
These were all said with one breath; and before the English-
men had time to reply, clash went the swords across the
table, and the third Scot, the true Aberdonian, was wounded,
as were also two of the Englishmen, at the very first pass.
  These matters are much sooner done than described. All
this was the work of a few seconds, and done before advice
could either be given or attended to. Dan now interfered with
all the spirit and authority that he was master of. He came
dashing along the middle of the board in his great war boots,
striking up their swords as he came, and interposing his
boardly frame between the combatants. ""D--n ye a' for a
wheen madcaps!'' cried Dan as loud as he could bawl: ""What
the muckle deil's fa'en a bobbing at your midriffs now?
Ye're a' my father's guests an' mine; an', by the shin-banes o'
Sant Peter, the first side that lifts a sword, or says a misbehad-
den word, my three brethren and I will tak' the tother side,
an' smoor the transpessors like as mony moor-poots.''
  ""Keep your feet aff the meat, fool,'' said old Pate.
  ""Gude sauff us!'' continued Dan, ""What has been said to
gie ony offence? What though the young gentlewoman dis
tak a stown jink o' a' chap that's her ain sweetheart whiles?
Where's the harm in that? There's little doubt o' the thing.
An' for my part, gin she didna''--
  Here Dan was interrupted in his elegant harangue by a
wrathful hysteric scream from young Tudor, who pulled out
his whinyard, and ran at Dan, boring at him in awkward but
most angry sort, crying all the while, ""I will not bear this
insult! Will my followers hear me traduced to my face?''
   ""Deil's i' e' wee but steepid laddie,'' said Buchan the
Aberdonian; ""it thinks 'at 'er preeving it to be a wheer 'e
sel o't!''
   Dan lifted up his heavy sword in high choler to cleave the
stripling, and he would have cloven him to the belt, but
curbing his wrath, he only struck his sword, which he made
fly into pieces and jingle against the rafters of the house; then
seizing the young adventurer by the shoulder, he snatched
him up to him on the board, where he still stood, and, taking
his head below his arm, he held him fast with the one hand,
making signs with the other to his brethren to join the Scots,
and disarm the English, who were the aggressors both times.
In the meantime, he was saying to Tudor, ""Hout, hout,
young master, ye hae never been o'er the Border afore; ye
sude hae stayed at hame, an' wantit a wife till ye gathered
mair rummelgumption.''
   The five English squires, now seeing themselves set upon by
nine, yielded, and suffered themselves to be disarmed.
   When Tudor came to himself, he appeared to be exceed-
ingly grieved at his imprudence, and ready to make any
acknowledgement, while the prince treated him with still
more and more attention; yet these attentions were ever and
anon mixed with a teazing curiosity, and a great many
inquiries, that the young nobleman could not bear, and did
not chuse to answer.
   It now became necessary to make some arrangement for the
parties passing the night. Patrick Chisholm's house had but
one fire-place in an apartment which served for kitchen and
hall; butit had a kind of <1ben end,>1 as it was then, and is always
to this day, denominated in that part of the country. There
was scarcely room to move a foot in it; for, besides two
oaken beds with rowan-tree bars, it contained five huge
chests belonging to the father and his sons, that held their
clothes and warlike accoutrements. The daughters of yeomen
in these days did not sit at table with the men. They were
the household servants. Two of Pate's daughters, who had
been bustling about all the evening, conducted the two noble
youths into this apartment, together with their two pages.
The one bed was neatly made down with clean clothes, and
the other in a more common way. ""Now,'' said one of the
landward lasses, ""You twa masters are to sleep thegither in
here,--in o' this gude bed, ye see, an' the twa lads in o' this
ane." The two young noblemen were standing close together,
as behoved in such a room.  On the girl addressing them thus,
their eyes met each other's, but were as instantly with-
drawn and fixed in the floor, while a blush of the deepest
tint suffused the cheeks of both, spreading over the chin and
neck of each. The pages contemplated each other in the
same way, but not with the same degree of timidity.  The
English stripling seemed rather to approve of the arrangement,
or at least pretended to do so; for he frankly took the other
by the hand, and said in a sweet voice, but broad dialect,
"Weall, yuong Scuot, daghest thou lig woth mey?"  The
young Caledonian withdrew his hand, and held down his
head: "I always lie at my master's feet," said he.
  "And so shall you do to-night, Colin," said the prince,
"for I will share this bed with you, and let my lord take the
good one."  "I cannot go to bed to-night," said Tudor, "I
will rest me on this chest; I am resolved I sha'nt go to bed,
nor throw off my clothes to-night."
  "Ye winna?" said May Chisholm, who visibly wanted a
romp with the youn blooming chief,-"Ye winna gang til
nae bed, will ye nae, and me has been at sic pains making it
up til ye? Bess, come here an' help me, we sal soon see whether
he's gang til his bed or no, an' that no wi' his braw claes on
neither." So saying, the two frolicsome queans seized the
rosy stripling, and in amoment had him stretched on the bed,
and, making his doublet fly open all at one rude pull, they
were proceeding to undress him, giggling and laughing all the
while.  Prince Alexander, from a momentary congenial feeling
of delicacy, put his hand hastily across to keep the lapels of
Tudor's vesture together, without the motion having been
perceived by any one in the hurry, and that moment the
page flung himself across his master's breast, and reproved
the lasses so sharply that they desisted, and left them to
settle the matter as they chose.
  The prince had, however, made a discovery that astonished
him exceeding; for a few minutes his head was almost
turned,--but the truth soon began to dawn on his mind, and
every reflection, every coincidence, every word that had been
said, and offence that had been taken, tended to confirm it:
so he determined, not for farther trial, but for the joke's
sake, to press matters a little further.
  When quietness was again restored, and when the blush
and the frown had several times taken alternate sway of the
young lord's face, the prince said to him. "After all, my lord,
I believe we must take share of the same bed together for
this one night.  It is more proper and becoming than to sleep
with our pages. Besides, I see the bed is good and clean, and
I have many things to talk to you about our two countries,
and about our two intended brides, or sweethearts let us call
them in the meantime.''
    ""Oh no, no, prince,'' said Tudor, ""indeed I cannot, I may
not, I would not sleep in the same bed with another gentle-
man--No--I never did--never.''
    ""Do not say so, my dear lord, for, on my word, I
am going to insist on it,'' said the prince, coming close
up to him, his eyes beaming with joy at the discovery
he had made. ""You shall sleep by my side to-night: nay,
I will even take you in my bosom and caress you as if
you were my own sweet dear Lady Jane Howard.'' Tudor
was now totally confounded, and knew neither what to say
for himself, nor what he did say when he spoke. He held
out both his hands, and cried, ""Do not, prince, do not
--I beg--I implore do not; for I cannot, cannot consent.
I never slept even in the same apartment with a man in
all my life.''
    ""What, have you always slept in a room by yourself?''
asked the teazing prince.
    ""No, never, but always with ladies--yes, always!'' was the
passionate and sincere reply.
    Here the prince held up his hands, and turned up his
eyes. ""What a young profligate!'' exclaimed he, ""Mary shield
us! Have you no conscience with regard to the fair sex that
you have begun so wicked a course, and that so early? Little
did I know why you took ajoke on your cousin so heinously
amiss! I see it now, truth will out! Ah, you are such a
youth! I will not go a foot further to see Lady Jane. What
a wicked degraded imp she must be! Do not kindle into a
passion again, my dear lord. I can well excuse your feigned
wrath, it is highly honourable. I hate the knight that blabs
the favours he enjoys from the fair. He is bound to defend
the honour that has stooped to him; even though (as in the
present instance I suppose) it have stooped to half a dozen
more besides.''
    A great deal of taunting and ill humour prevailed between
these capricious and inexperienced striplings, and sorely
was Tudor pressed to take share of a bed with the prince,
but in vain--his feelings recoiled from it; and the other,
being in possession of a secret of which the English lord
was not aware, took that advantage of teazing and tor-
menting him almost beyond sufferance. After all, it was
decided that each should sleep with his own page; a decision
that did not seem to go well down at all with the Yorkshire
boy, who once ventured to expostulate with his lord,
but was silenced with a look of angry disdain.
                          CHAPTER V

                  He set her on his milk-white steed,
                    Himself lap on behind her,
                  And they are o'er the Highland hills;
                    Her friends they cannot find her.


                  As they rode over hill and dale
                    This lady often fainted,
                  And eried, "Wo to my cursed moneye,
                    That this road to me invented.''
                                        <1Ballad of Rob Roy>1


                  O cam ye here to fight, young man,
                    Or cam ye here to flee?
                  Or cam ye out o' the wally west
                    Our bonnie bride to see?
                                    <1Balled called Foul Play>1


IT is by this time needless to inform my readers, that these
two young adventurers were no other than the rival beauties
of the two nations, for whose charms all this bloody coil was
carried on at Roxburgh; and who, without seeing, had hated
each other as cordially as any woman is capable of hating her
rival in beauty or favour. So much had the siege and the perils
of Roxburgh become the subject of conversation, that the ears
of the two maidens had long listened to nothing else, and each
of them deemed her honour embarked in the success of her
lover. Each of them had set out with the intent of visiting the
camp in disguise; and having enough of interest to secure pro-
tections for feigned names, each determined to see her rival in
the first place, the journey not being far; and neither of them
it is supposed went with any kind intent. Each of them had a
maid dressed in boy's clothes with her, and five stout troopers,
all of whom were utterly ignorant of the secret. The princess
had by chance found out her rival's sex; but the Scottish lady
and her attendant being both taller and of darker complexions
than the other two, no suspicions were entertained against
them detrimental to their enterprise. The princess never closed
an eye, but lay meditating on the course she should take. She
was convinced that she had her rival in her power, and she
determined, not over generously, to take advantage of her
good fortune. The time drew nigh that Roxburgh must be lost
or won, and well she knew that, whichever side succeeded,
according to the romantic ideas of that age, the charms of the
lady would have all the honour, while she whose hero lost
would be degraded,--considerations which no woman laying
claim to superior and all-powerful charms could withstand.
   Next morning Dan was aroused at an early hour by his
supposed prince, who said to him, ""Brave yeoman, from a
long conversation that I have had last night with these English
strangers, I am convinced that they are despatched on some
traitorous mission; and as the warden is in Northumberland, I
propose conveying them straight to Douglas' camp, there to
be tried for their lives. If you will engage to take charge of
them, and deliver them safely to the captain before night, you
shall have a high reward; but if you fail, and suffer any of them
to escape, your neck shall answer for it. How many men can
you raise for this service?''
   ""Our men are maistly up already,'' said Dan; ""but muckle
Charlie o' Yardbire gaed hame last night wi' twa or three kye,
like oursels. Gin Charlie an' his lads come, I sal answer for
the English chaps, if they war twa to ane. I hae mysel an' my
three billies, deil a shank mae; but an Charlie come he's as
gude as some three, an' his backman's nae bean-swaup neither.''
   ""Then,'' said the counterfeit prince, ""I shall leave all my
attendants to assist you save my page,--we two must pursue
our journey with all expedition. All that is required of you is
to deliver the prisoners safe to the Douglas. I will despatch a
message to him by the way, apprising him of the circum-
stances.''
   The Lady Margaret and her page then mounted their pal-
freys and rode off without delay; but, instead of taking the
road by Gorranberry, as they had proposed over night, they
scoured away at a light gallop down the side of the Teviot. At
the town of Hawick she caused her page, who was her chief
waiting-maid and confidant, likewise in boy's clothes, to cut
out her beautiful fleece of black hair, that glittered like the
wing of the raven, being determined to attend in disguise the
issue of the contest. She then procured a red curled wig, and
dressing herself in a Highland garb, with a plumed bonnet,
tartan jacket and trowsers, and Highland hose and brogues,
her appearance was so completely altered, that even no one
who had seen her the day before, in the character of the prince
her brother, could possibly have known her to be the same
person; and leaving her page near the camp to await her pri-
vate orders, she rode straight up to head-quarters by herself.
   Being examined as she passed the outposts, she said she
brought a message to Douglas of the greatest importance,
and that it was from the court; and her address being of such
a superior cast, every one furthered her progress till she came
to the captain's tent. Scarcely did she know him,--care, anxiety,
and watching had so worn him down; and her heart was
melted when she saw his appearance. Never, perhaps, could
she have been said to have loved him till that moment; but
seeing what he had suffered for her sake, the great stake he
had ventured, and the almost hopeless uncertainty that ap-
peared in every line of his face, raised in her heart a feeling
unknown to her before; and highly did that heart exult at the
signal advantage that her good fortune had given him over his
rival. Yet she determined on trying the state of his affections
and hopes. Before leaving Hawick, she had written a letter to
him, inclosing a lock of her hair neatly plaited; but this letter
she kept back in order to sound her lover first without its
influence. He asked her name and her business. She had much
business, she said, but not a word save for his private ear.
Douglas was struck with the youth's courtly manner, and
looked at him with a dark searching eye,--""I have no secrets,''
said he, ""with these my kinsmen: I desire, before them, to
know your name and business.''
   ""My name,'' said the princess pertly, ""is Colin Roy M'Alpin,
--I care not who knows my name; but no word further of my
message do I disclose save to yourself.''
   ""I must humour this pert stripling,'' said he, turning to his
friends; ""if his errand turns out to be one of a trivial nature,
and that does not require all this ceremony, I shall have him
horse-whipped.''
   With that the rest of the gentlemen went away, and left the
two by themselves. Colin, as we must now, for brevity's sake,
term the princess, was at first somewhat abashed before the
dark eye of Douglas, but soon displayed all the effrontery that
his assumed character warranted, if not three times more.
   ""Well now, my saucy little master, Colin Roy M'Alpin,
please condescend so far as to tell me whence you are, and
what is your business here,--this secret business, of such vast
importance.''
   ""I am from court, my lor'; from the Scottish court, an't
please you, my lor'; but not directly as a body may say,--my
lor'; not directly--here--there--south--west--precipitately, in-
controvertibly, ascertaining the scope and bearing of the pro-
pessive advance of the discomfiture and gradual wreck of
your most flagrant and preposterous undertaking.''
   "She devil confound the impertinent puppy! ''
   ""Hold, hold, my lor', I mean your presumptuous and fool-
hardy enterprise, first in presuming to the hand of my mis-
tress, the king's daughter,--my lovely and queenly mistress;
and then in foolhardily running your head against the walls
of Roxburgh to attain this, and your wit and manhood against
the superior generalship of a Musgrave.''
   ""By the pock-net of St Peter, I will cause every bone in
your body to be basted to powder, you incorrigible pedant
and puppy!'' said the Douglas; and seizing him by the collar
of the coat, he was about to drag him to the tent-door and
throw him into the air.
   ""Hold, my lor'; please keep off your rough uncourtly hands
till I deliver the credentials of my mistress.''
   ""Did you say that you were page to the Princess Margaret?
Yes, surely you are, I have erst seen that face, and heard that
same flippant tongue. Pray, what word or token does my
dear and sovereign lady send me?''
   ""She bade me say, that she does not approve of you at
all, my lor':--that, for her sake, you ought to have taken this
castle many days ago. And she bade me ask you why you don't
enter the castle by the gate, or over the wall, or under the hill,
which is only a sand one, and hang up all the Englishmen by
the necks, and send the head of Philip Musgrave to his saucy
dame?--She bade me ask you why you don't, my lor'?''
   ""Women will always be women,'' said Douglas surlily to
himself: ""I thought the princess superior to her sex, but--''
   ""But! but what, my lor'? Has she not good occasion for
displeasure? She bade me tell you that you don't like her;--
that you don't like her half so well as Musgrave does his mis-
tress,--else why don't you do as much for her? He took the
castle for the sake of his mistress, and for her sake he keeps it
in spite of you. Therefore she bade me tell you, that you must
<1go in>1 and beat the English, and take the castle from them; for
she will not suffer it that Lady Jane Howard shall triumph
over her.''
   ""Tell her in return,'' said Douglas, ""that I will do what man
can do; and when that is done, she shall find that I neither
will be slack in requiring the fulfilment of her engagement,
nor in performing my own. If that womanish tattling be all
that you have to say,--begone: the rank of your employer
protects you.''
   ""Hold, my lor', she bade me look well, and tell her what
you were like, and if I thought you changed since I waited
on you at court. On my conscience you look very ill. These
are hard ungainly features of yours. I'll tell her you look very
shabby, and very surly, and that you have lost all heart. But
oh, my lor', I forgot she bade me tell you, that if you found
you were clearly beat, it would be as well to draw off your
men and abandon the siege; and that she would, perhaps, in
pity, give you a moiety of your lands again.''
   ""I have no patience with the impertinence of a puppy, even
though the messenger of her I love and esteem above all the
world. Get you hence.''
   ""Oh, my lor', I have not third done yet. But, stay, here is
a letter I had almost forgot.''
   Douglas opened the letter. Well he knew the hand; there
were but few in Scotland who could write, and none could
write like the princess. It contained a gold ring set with rubies,
and a lock of her hair. He kissed them both; and tried the ring
first on the one little finger, and then on the other, but it
would scarcely go over the nail; so he kissed them again, and
put them in his bosom. He then read to himself as follows:

   ""MY GOOD LORD,--I enclose you two love-tokens of my
troth;let them be as beacons to your heart to guide it to deeds
of glory and renown. For my sake put down these English.
Margaret shall ever pray for your success. Retain my page
Colin near your person. He is true-hearted, and his flippancy
affected. Whatever you communicate to him will be safely
transmitted to                                ""Margaret.''

   It may well be supposed how Colin watched the emotions
of Douglas while reading this heroic epistle; and, in the true
spirit of the age, they were abundantly extravagant. He kissed
the letter, hugged it in his bosom, and vowed to six or seven
saints to do such deeds for his adored and divine princess as
never were heard or read of.
   ""Now, my good lor,'' said the page, ""you must inform me
punctually what hopes you have of success, and if there is
any thing wanting that the kingdom can afford you.''
   ""My ranks are too thin,'' replied the Douglas; ""and I have
engaged to take it with my own vassals. The warden is too
proud to join his forces to mine on that footing, but keeps
scouring the borders, on pretence of preventing supplies, and
thus assisting me, but in truth for enriching himself and his
followers. If I could have induced him and his whole force to
have joined the camp, famine would have compelled the enemy
to yield a month agone. But I have now the captain's brother
prisoner; and I have already given him to know, that if he
does not deliver up the castle to me in four days, I will hang
the young knight up before his eyes,--I have sworn to do it,
and I swear again to keep my oath.''
   ""I will convey all this to my mistress,'' said Colin. ""So then
you have his only brother in your hold? My lor', the victory
is your own, and the princess, my mistress, beside. In a few
hours will be placed in your hands the primal cause and fo-
mentor of this cruel and bloody war, the Lady Jane Howard.''
   The Douglas started like one aroused from slumber, or a
state of lethargy, by a sudden wound. ""What did you say,
boy?'' said he. ""Either I heard amiss, or you are dreaming. I
have offered estates, nay, I have offered an earldom, to any
hardy adventurer who would bring me that imperious dame;
but the project has been abandoned as quite impracticable.''
   ""Rest content,'' said Colin: ""I have secured her, and she
will be delivered into your hands before night. She has safe
passports with her to the Scottish court, but they are in
favour of Jasper Tudor, son to the Earl of Pembroke; so that
the discovery of her sex proves her an impostor, and subjects
her to martial law, which I request, for my mistress' sake, you
will execute on her. My lady the princess, with all her beauty,
and high accomplishments, is a very woman; and I know
there is nothing on earth she so much dreads as the triumph
of Lady Jane over her. Besides, it is evident she was bound
to the Scottish court either to poison the princess, or inveigle
her into the hands of her enemies. All her attendants are igno-
rant of her sex, save her page, who is said to be a blooming
English country maiden. The Prince Alexander bade me charge
you never to mention by what means she came into your
hands, but to give it out that she was brought to you by a
miracle, by witchcraft, or by the power of a mighty magi-
cian.'' ""It is well thought of, boy,'' said the Douglas, greatly
elevated--""I have been obliged to have recourse to such means
already--this will confirm all. The princess your mistress de-
sired that you should remain with me. You shall be my right
hand page, I will love and favour you; you shall be fed with
the bread and wine, and shall sleep in my tent, and I will
trust you with all my secrets for the welcome tidings you
have brought, and for the sake of the angelic dame that re-
commends you to me; for she is my beloved, my adored mis-
tress, and for her will I either conquer or die! My sword is
her's--my life is her's--Nay, my very soul is the right of my
beloved!'' Poor Colin dropped a tear on hearing this passionate
nonsense. Women love extravagance in such matters, but in
those days it had no bounds.
   It was not long till the prisoners arrived, under the care of
muckle Charlie Scott of Yardbire and Dan Chisholm, with
their troopers, guarded in a very original manner. When
Charlie arrived at old Chisholm's house and learned that a
<1prince>1 had been there, and had given such charges about the
prisoners, he determined to make sure work; and as he had
always most trust to put in himself, he took the charge of the
young English nobleman and his squire, as he supposed them
to be. The page he took on his huge black horse behind him,
lashing him to his body with strong belts cut from a cow's
raw hide. His ancles were moreover fastened to the straps at
the tops of Charlie's great war boots; so that the English
maiden must have had a very uncomfortable ride. But the
other he held on before him, keeping her all the way in his
arms, exactly as a countryman holds up a child in the church
to be christened.
  The Lady Jane Howard had plenty of the spirit of romance
about her, but she neither had the frame nor the energy
mind requisite for carrying her wild dreams of female heroism
into effect. She was an only child--a spoiled one; having been
bred up without perhaps ever being controlled, till she fell
into the hands of these border mosstroopers. Her displeasure
was excessive.--She complained bitterly of her detainment,
and much more of being sent a prisoner to the camp. When
she found herself in muckle Charlie Scott's arms, borne away
to be given up to the man whom of all the world she had most
reason to dread, she even forgot herself so far as to burst in-
to tears. Charlie, with all his inordinate strength and prowess,
had a heart so soft, that, as he said himself, ""a laverock might
hae laired in't;'' and he farther added, that when he saw ""the
bit bonny English callan', that was comed o' sic grand blude,
grow sae desperately wae, an' fa' a blirting and greeting, the
deil a bit but his heart was like to come out at his mouth.''
This was no lie, for his comrades beheld him two or three
times come across his eyes with his mailed sleeve--a right
uncouth handkerchief; and then he tried to comfort the
youth with the following speech: ""Troth, man, but I'm unco
wae for ye, ye're sae young an' sae bonny, an' no' a fit man
at a' to send out i' thir crabbit times. But tak good heart, an'
dinna be dauntit, for it will soon be over w'ye. Ye'll neither
hae muckle to thole nor lang time to dree't, for our captain
will hang ye directly. He hangs a' spies an' messengers aff
hand; sae it's no worth naebody's while to greet. Short wark's
aye best i' sic cases.''
   ""He cannot, he dares not injure a hair of my head,'' said
Lady Jane passionately.
   <1""Canna!''>1 said Charlie, ""Gude faith, ye ken that's nonsense.
He can as easily hang ye, or do ought else w'ye, as I can wipe
my beard. An' as for the thing that the Douglas <1darena>1 do,
gude faith, ye ken, I never saw it yet. But I'm sure I wish ye
<1may>1 be safe, for it wad do little good to me to see your bit
pease-weep neck rackit.''
   ""It was most unfair, as well as most ungenerous in
your prince to detain me,'' said she, ""as my business re-
quired urgency. I had regular signed warrandice, and went
on the kindest intent; besides, I have a great aversion to
be put into the hands of Douglas. How many cows and
ewes would you take to set me at liberty?''
   ""Whisht, whisht, Sir!'' said Charlie; ""Gudesake haud your
tongue! That's kittle ground. Never speak o' sic a thing. But
how many could ye afford to gie, and I <1were>1 to set you at
liberty?''
   ""In the first place, I will give you five hundred head of
good English nolt,'' said Lady Jane.
   ""Eh? What?'' said Charlie, holding his horse still, and tur-
ning his ear close round to the lady's face, that he might hear
with perfect distinctness the extraordinary proffer. It was
repeated. Charlie was almost electrified with astonishment.
""Five hunder head o' nout!'' exclaimed he: ""But d'ye mean
their heads by theirsels?--cuttit aff, like?''
   ""No, no; five hundred good live cattle.''
   ""Mercy on us! Gude faith, they wad stock a' Yardbire--an'
Raeburn,'' added he, after a pause, putting his horse again
slowly in motion; ""an' Watkerrick into the bargain,'' added
he, with a full drawn sigh, putting the spurs to his beast, that
he might go quicker to carry him away from the danger. ""For
troth, d'ye ken, my lord, we're no that scarce o' grund in
Scotland; we can get plenty o' that for little thing, gin we
could get ought to lay on't. But it's hard to get beasts, an'
kittle to keep them i' our country. Five hunder head o' black
cattle! Hech! an Charlie Scott had a' thae, how mony braw
lads could he tak at his back o'er Craikcorse to join his master
the warden! But come, come, it canna be. War somebody a
Scots lord, as he's an English ane, an i' the same danger, I wad
risk muckle to set him free. But come, Corby, my fine naig,
ye hae carried me into mony a scrape, ye maun carry me out
o' this ane, or, gude faith, your master's gane. Ha, lad, ye
never had sic a backfu' i' your life! Ye hae five hunder head
o' black cattle on't, ye dog, an' ye're carrying them a' away
frae your master an' Yardbire wi' as little ceremony as he
took you frae Squire Weir o' Cockermouth. Ah, Corby, ye're
gayan like your master, ye hae a lang free kind o' conscience,
ye tike!''
   ""But, my dear Sir,'' said Lady Jane, ""you have not heard
the half of my proffer. You seem to be a generous, sensible,
and good natured gentleman.''
   ""Do I?'' said Charlie, ""Thanks t'ye, my lord.''
   ""Now,'' continued she, ""if you will either set me and my
page safely down on English ground, or within the ports of
Edinborough, I'll add five thousand sheep to the proffer I
have already made you.''
   ""Are ye no joking?'' said Charlie, again stopping his horse.
   ""On my honour I am not,'' was the answer.
   ""They'll stock a' Blake-Esk-head an' the Garald-Grains,''
said Charlie: ""Hae ye a free passport to the Scottish court?''
   ""Yes, I have, and signed with the warden's name.''
   ""Na, na, haud your tongue there; my master has nae name,''
said Charlie: ""He has a good speaking name, an' ane he disna
think shame o', but nae name for black an' white.''
   ""I'll show you it,'' said Lady Jane.
   ""Na, ye needna fash,'' said Charlie; ""I fear it wad be un-
mannerly in me to doubt a lord's word.''
   ""How soon could you carry us to Edinborough?'' inquired
Lady Jane, anxious to keep muckle Charlie in the humour of
taking her any where save into the hands of Douglas.
   ""That's rather a question to speer at Corby than me,'' said
Charlie; ""but I think if we miss drowning i' Tweed, an' break-
ing our necks o'er the Red-brae, an' sinking out o' sight i'
Soutra-flow, that I could tak in hand to hae ye in Edinborough
afore twal o'clock at night.--Bad things for you, Corby.''
   ""Never say another word about it then,'' said Lady Jane;
""the rest are quite gone before us, and out of sight. Turn to
the left, and ride for Edinborough. Think of the five hundred
cows and five thousand sheep.''
   ""Oh, that last beats a'!'' said Charlie. ""Five thousand sheep!
how mony is that? Five score's a hunder--I'm sure o' that.
Every hunder's five score; then--and how mony hunder maks
a thousand?''--
   ""Ten,'' said the page, who was forced to laugh at Charlie's
arithmetic.
   ""Ten?'' repeated Charlie. ""Then ten times five hunder that
maks but ae thousand; an' other ten times five hunder-- D--n
me if I ken how mony is o' them ava. What does it signify for
a man to hae mair gear than he can count? I fancy we had
better jogg on the gate we're gaun, Corby.''
   ""I am sure, friend, ye never had such a chance of being
rich,'' said Lady Jane, ""and may never, in all likelihood, have
such a chance again.''
   ""That is a' true ye're saying, my lord, an' a sair heart it has
gi'en me,'' said Charlie; but your offer's ower muckle, an'
that maks me dread there's something at the bottom o't that
I dinna comprehend. Gude faith, an the warden war to suffer
danger or disgrace for my greed o' siller, it wad be a bonny
story! Corby, straight on, ye dog: ding the brains out o' the
gutters, clear for the camp, ye hellicat of an English hound.
What are ye snoring an' cocking your lugs at? Od an ye get
company like yoursel, ye carena what mischief ye carry your
master into. Get on, I say, an' dinna gie me time to hear
another word or think about this business again.''
   The young lady began here to lose heart, seeing that Charlie
had plucked up a determination. But her companion attacked
him in her turn with all the flattery and fair promises she
could think of, till Charlie found his heart again beginning to
waver and calculate; so that he had no other shift but to croon
a border war-song, that he might not hear this dangerous con-
versation. Still the page persevered, till Charlie, losing all
patience, cried out as loud and as bitterly as he could, ""Haud
your tongue, ye slee-gabbit limb o' the auld ane. D--n ye,
d'ye think a man's conscience is to be hadden abreed like the
mou' of a sack, an' crammed fu' o' beef an' mutton whether
he will or no? Corby, another nicker an' another snore, lad,
an' we'll soon see you aff at the gallop.''
   Thus ended the trying colloquy between muckle Charlie
Scott o' Yardbire and his two prisoners; the rest of his con-
versation was to Corby, whom he forthwith pushed on by
spur and flattery to the camp.
   When the truth came to be discovered, many puzzled them-
selves endeavouring to guess what Charlie would actually have
done had he known by the way what a treasure he had in his
arms,--the greatest beauty, and the greatest heiress in England;
--for Charlie was as notable for kindness and generosity as he
was for bodily strength; and, besides, he was poor, as he
frankly acknowledged; but then he only wished for riches to
be able to keep more men for the service of his chief. Some
thought he would have turned his horse round without further
ceremony, and carried her straight to Yardbire, on purpose to
keep her there for a wife; others thought he would have risked
his neck, honour, and every thing, and restored her again to her
friends. But it was impossible for any of them to guess what he
would have done, as it was proved afterwards that Charlie
could not guess himself. When the truth came to be divulged,
and was first told to him, his mouth, besides becoming amaz-
ingly extended in its dimensions, actually grew four-square
with astonishment; and when asked what he would have done
had he known, he smacked his lips, and wiped them with the
back of his hand as if his teeth had been watering--and,
laughing to himself with a chuckling sound, like a moor-cock,
he turned about his back to conceal his looks, and only an-
swered with these emphatic words: ""Gude faith, it was as
weel I didna ken.''
                         CHAPTER VI

               Some write of preclair conquerouris,
               And some of vallyeant emperouris,
               And some of nobill mychtie kingis,
               That royally did reull the ringis;
               And some of squyris douchty deidis,
               That wonderis wrocht in weirly weidis;
               Sa I intand the best I can
               Descryve the deidis and the man.
                                 Sir Dav. Lindsaye


               Wald God I war now in Pitcary!
              Becass I haif bene se ill deidy.
               Adew! I dar na langer tairy,
               I dreid I waif inull ane widdy.
                                          <1Ibid>1


IN the same grotesque guise as formerly described, Charlie at
length came with his two prisoners to the outposts of the
Scottish army. The rest of the train had passed by before him,
and warned their friends who was coming, and in what stile;
for no one thought it worth his while to tarry with Charlie
and his overloaden horse. When he came near the soldiers
they hurra'd, and waved their bonnets, and gathering about
Charlie in crowds, they would not let him onward. Besides,
some fell a loosing the prisoner behind him, and others hold-
ing up their arms to release him of the one he carried before;
and, seeing how impatient he was, and how determined to
keep his hold, they grew still more importunate in frolic. But
it had nearly cost some of them dear; for Charlie, growing
wroth, squeezed the Lady Jane so strait with the left arm,
that she was forced to cry out; and putting his right over his
shoulder, he drew out his tremendous two-hand sword. ""Now
stand back, devils,'' cried Charlie, ""or, gude faith, I'll gar
Corby ride ower the taps o' the best o' ye. I hae had ower
sair a trial for heart o' flesh already; but when I stood that, it
sanna be the arm o' flesh that takes them frae me now, till I
gie them into the Douglas's ain hands. Stand back, ye devils;
a Scott never gies up his trust as lang as his arm can dimple
at the elbow.''
  The soldiers flew away from around him like a flight of
geese, and with the same kind of noise too,--every one being
giggling and laughing,--and up rode Charlie to the door of
the Douglas' pavilion, where he shouted aloud for the captain.
Douglas, impatient to see his illustrious prisoner, left the
others abruptly, and hasted out at Charlie's call.
  ""Gude faith, my lord,'' said Charlie, ""I beg your pardon
for garring you come running out that gate; but here's a
bit of English lord for ye, an' his henchman,--sic master, sic
man, as the saying is. There war terrible charges gi'en about
them, sae I thought I wad secure them, an' gie them into
your ain hands.''
   ""I am much beholden to you, gallant Yardbire,'' said
Douglas: ""The care and pains you have taken shall not be
forgotten.''
   This encouraging Charlie, he spoke to the earl with great
freedom, who was mightily diverted with his manner, as well
as with his mode of securing the prisoners.
   ""There's his lordship for ye,'' said Charlie, holding him out
like a small bale of goods: ""Mind ye hae gotten him safe off
my hand; an' here's another chap I hae fastened to my back.
An a' the English nobles war Iike thir twa, I hae been think-
ing, my lord, that they might tak' our lasses frae us, but we
wadna be ill pinched to tak their kye frae them; an' it wad be
nae hard bargain for us neither.'' So saying, he cut his belts
and thongs of raw hide, and let the attendant lady, in page's
clothes, free of his body. ""He's a little, fine, soft, cozey callan
this,'' added Charlie, ""he has made my hinderlands as warm as
they had been in an oon.''
   Douglas took Lady Jane off from before the gallant yeo-
man in his arms. He observed with what a look she regarded
him; and he was sure, from the first view he got of her features,
that the page Colin must have been right with regard to the
sex of the prisoner. He likewise noted the holes in her ears,
from which it was apparent that pendant jewels had lately
been taken; and he hoped the other part of the page's infor-
mation might likewise be correct, though how to account for
such an extraordinary piece of good fortune he was wholly at
a loss. He led her into the inner pavilion, and there, in pres-
ence of his secretary and two of his kinsmen, examined her
papers and passports. They were found all correct, and signed
by the public functionaries of both nations, in favour of
Jasper Tudor, son to the Earl of Pembroke.
   ""These are quite sufficient, my young lord,'' said Douglas;
""I see no cause for detaining you further. You shall have a
sufficient guard till you are out of the range of my army,
and safe furtherance to the Scottish court.''
   The prisoner's countenance lighted up, and she thanked
Douglas in the most grateful terms, blessing herself that she
had fallen into the hands of so courteous a knight, and urged
the necessity of their sudden departure. Douglas assured her
they should be detained no longer than the necessity of the
times required; but that it was absolutely requisite, for his
own safety, the safety of the realm, and the success of the
enterprise in which he was engaged, and so deeply concerned,
that they should submit to a personal search from head to
foot, lest some traitorous correspondence might be secretly
conveyed by them.
   The countenance of the prisoner again altered at this in-
formation. It became at first pale as a lily, and immediateIy
after blushed as deeply as the damask rose, while the tears
started to her eyes. It was no wonder, considering the pre-
dicament in which she now stood; her delicate lady form to
be searched by the hands of rude warriors, her sex discovered,
and her mission to the Scottish court found out to be a wild
intrigue. She fell instantly on her knees before Douglas, and
besought him in moving accents to dispense with the useless
formality of searching her and her young kinsman and com-
panion, assuring him at the same time that neither of them
had a single scrap of writing that he had not seen, and ad-
juring him on his honour and generosity as a knight to hear-
ken to this request.
   ""The thing is impossible, my lord,'' said Douglas; ""and,
moreover, the anxiety you manifest about such a trifle argues
a consciousness of guilt. You must submit to be searched on
the instant. Chuse of us whom you will to the office.''
   ""I will never submit to it,'' she said passionately, ""there is
not a knight in England would have refused such a request to
you.''
   ""I would never have asked it, my lord,'' said he; ""and it is
your utter inexperience in the customs of war that makes you
once think of objecting to it. I am sorry we must use force.
Bring in two of the guards.''
   ""Hold, hold, my lord,'' said Lady Jane, ""since I must sub-
mit to such a degradation, I will submit to yourself. I will be
searched by your own hands, and yours alone.
   They were already in the inner tent. Douglas desired his
friends to go out, which they complied with, and he himself
began to search the person of Lady Jane, with the most
careful minuteness, as he pretended, well aware what was to
be the issue of the search. He examined all her courtly coat,
pockets, lining, and sleeves,--he came to her gaudy doublet,
stiff with gold embroidery, and began to unloose it, but she
laid both her hands upon her breast, and looked in his face
with eyes so speaking, and so beseeching, that it was im-
possible for man to mistake the import. Douglas did not mis-
take it, but was bent upon having proof positive.
   ""What?'' said he, ""do you still resist? What is here you
would conceal?''
   ""Oh my Lord,'' said she, ""do you not see?''
   ""I see nothing,'' said he; and while she feebly struggled he
loosed the vest, when the fair heaving bosom discovered the
sex of his prisoner, and at the same time, with the struggle,
the beautiful light locks had escaped from their confinement,
and hung over her breast in waving ringlets. The maid stood
revealed; and, with the disclosure, all the tender emotions and
restrained feelings of the female heart burst forth like a river
that has been dammed up from running in its natural channel,
and has just got vent anew. She wept and sobbed till her fair
breast was like to rend. She even seized on Douglas' hand, and
wet it with her tears. He, on his part, feigned great amazement.
   ""How is this?'' said he, ""A maid!''
   ""Yes indeed, my lord, you see before you, and in your
power, a hapless maid of noble blood, who set out on a crazy
expedition of love, but, from inexperience, has fallen into
your hands.''
   ""Then the whole pretended mission to our Scottish court
is, it appears, a fraud, a deep laid imposition of some most
dangerous intent, as the interest that has been used to accom-
plish it fully demonstrates. You have subjected yourself and
all your followers to military execution; and the only method
by which you can procure a respite, either for yourself or
them, is to make a full confession of the whole plot.''
   ""Alas, my lord, I have no plot to confess. Mine was merely
a romantic expedition of youthful love, and, as you are a
knight, and a lover yourself, I beg your clemency, that you
will pardon my followers and me. They are innocent; and,
save my page, who is likewise a lady, and my own kinswoman,
all the rest are as ignorant who I am, and what I am, as the
child that is unborn.''
   ""If you would entertain any hopes of a reprieve, I say,
madam, either for yourself or them, declare here to me in-
stantly your name, lineage, and the whole of your business in
Scotland, and by whose powerful interest you got this safe
conduct made out, for one who, it seems, knows nothing
of it, or who, perhaps, does not exist.''
   ""Surely you will not be so ungallant as to insist upon a
lady exposing herself and all her relations? No, my lord,
whatever become of me, you must never attain to the know-
ledge of my name, rank, or titles. I entrust myself to your
mercy: you can have nothing to fear from the machinations
of a love-lorn damsel.''
   ""I am placed in peculiarly hard circumstances, madam; I
have enemies abroad and at home, and have nothing but my
own energies to rely on to save my house and name from utter
oblivion, and my dearest hopes from extinguishment. This
expedition of yours, folded as it is in deceit and forgery, has
an ominous and daring appearance. The house of Douglas
must not fall for the tears of a deceitful maiden, the daughter
of my enemy. Without a full disclosure of all that I request,
every one of you shall suffer death in the sight of both armies
before the going down of the sun. I will begin with the mean-
est of your followers, in hopes, for the sake of your youth and
your sex, that you will relent and make a full disclosure of
your name, and all your motives for such an extraordinary
adventure.''
   Lady Jane continued positive and peremptory, as did also
her attendant, who had been thoroughly schooled before-hand,
in case of their sex being discovered, never, on any account,
to acknowledge who she was, lest it should put Musgrave
wholly in Douglas' power. The latter, therefore, to keep up
the same system of terror and retribution first practised by
his opponent, caused sound the death knell, and hung out the
flag of blood, to apprise those within the fortress that some
of their friends were shortly to be led to execution.
   The first that was brought out was a thick-set swarthy yeo-
man, who said his name was Edmund Heaton, and that he had
been a servant to Belsay, whom he had followed in the border
wars. When told that he was about to be hanged for a spy and a
traitor, he got very angry, even into such a rage that they could
not know what he said, for he had a deep rough burr in his
throat, and spoke a coarse English dialect. ""Hang'd? I hang'd?
and fogh whot? Domn your abswoghdity! Hang ane mon fogh
deying whot his meastegh beeds him?''--He was told that he
had not two minutes to live, unless he could discover some-
thing of the plot in which his employers were engaged; that it
was found he had been accompanying two ladies in disguise,
on some traitorous mission which they would not reveal; and
it was the law of war that he should suffer for the vile crime
in which he was an accomplice.
   ""Nobbit, I tell you that won't dey at all;--n-n-nor it sha'n't
dey neithegh. Do you think you aghe to hang eveghy mon
that follows ane woeman? Domn them, I nevegh knew them
lead to oughts but eel! If I had known they had been woemen--
Domn them!''--He was hauled up to the scaffold, for he re-
fused to walk a foot.--""Wh-wh-why, nobbit speak you now,''
cried he in utter desperation; ""why n-n-nobbit you aghe not
serious, aghe you?'' He was told he should soon find to his
experience that they were quite serious.--""Why, cworse the
whole geneghation of you, the thing is nwot to be bwoghn.
I wont swoffegh it--that I woll not. It is dwonright mworder.
Oh, ho, ho!'' and he wept, crying as loud as he could, ""Oh-oh!
ho: mworder! mworder! Domn eveghy Scwot of you!''--In
this mood, kicking, crying, and swearing, was he turned off,
and hanged in sight of both hosts.
   The walls of Roxburgh were crowded with spectators. They
could not divine who it was that was suffering; for all kind
of communication was forbid by Musgrave, and it was now
become exceedingly difficult. Great was their wonder and
anxiety when they beheld one trooper after another of their
countrymen brought out and hanged like dogs. But it was
evident to every beholder, from the unsettled and perturbed
motions of those on the wall, that something within the for-
tress was distressing the besieged. Some hurried to and fro;
others stood or moved about in listless languor; and there
were a few that gazed without moving, or taking their eyes
from the spot where they were fixed. Not one flight of
arrows came to disturb the execution, as usual; and it was
suspected that their whole stock of arrows was exhausted.
This would have been good tidings for the Scots, could they
have been sure of it, as they might then have brought their
files closer to the walls, and more effectually ensured a strict
blockade.
   Lady Jane's followers were all executed, and herself and
companion sore threatened in vain. Douglas, however, meant
to reserve them for another purpose than execution,--to en-
sure to himself the surrender of the fortress, namely; but of
her squires he was glad to be rid, for fear of a discovery being
made to the English that the lady was in his hands, which
might have brought the whole puissance of the realm upon
him; whereas the generality of the nation viewed the siege
merely as an affair of Border chivalry, in which they were
little interested, and deemed Musgrave free from any danger.
   It was on St Leonard's day that these five Englishmen were
executed; and as a retaliation in part, a Scots fisherman was
hanged by the English from the wall of the castle; one who
indeed had been the mean of doing them a great deal of mis-
chief. And thus stood matters at that period of the siege;
namely, the Earl of Douglas and Mar lay before Roxburgh
with eight thousand hardy veterans, all his own vassals. The
Redhough kept a flying army on the borders of Northumber-
land, chiefly about the mountains of Cheviot and Cocket-dale,
interrupting all supplies and communications from that quar-
ter, and doing excellent service to himself and followers, and
more to the Douglas than the latter seemed to admit of.
Whenever he found the English gathering to any head, he did
not go and attack them, but, leaving a flying party of horse
to watch their motions, he instantly made a diversion some-
where else, which drew them off with all expedition. A numer-
ous army, hastily raised, entered Scotland on the west border,
on purpose to draw off the warden; but they were surprised
and defeated by the Laird of Johnston, who raised the Annan-
dale people, and attacked the English by night. He followed
them into Cumberland, and fought two sharp battles with
them there, in both of which he had the advantage, and he then
fell a spoiling the country. This brought the Northumberland
and Durham men into these parts, who mustered under Sir
William Fetherstone to the amount of fifteen thousand men.
Johnston retired, and the Earl of Galloway, to back him,
raised twenty thousand in the west, and came towards the
Sarke: So that the siege of Roxburgh was viewed but as an
item in the general convulsion, though high was the stake for
those that played, and ruthless the game while it lasted.
Douglas now looked upon the die as turned in his favour, as
he held pledges that would render the keeping of it of no
avail to his opponent. The lady was in his power at whose
fiat Musgrave had taken and defended the perilous castle so
bravely,--but of this no man knew save the Douglas himself.
Sir Richard Musgrave was likewise in his hand, the captain's
youngest, most beloved, and only surviving brother; and
Douglas had threatened, against a certain day, if the keys of
the castle were not surrendered to him, to hang the young
hero publicly, in the view of both hosts; and in all his threats
he had never once broke his word. We must now take a peep
within the walls of Roxburgh, and see how matters are going
on there.
                         CHAPTERVIl

             I cast my net in Largo bay,
                And fishes I caught nine;
             There were three to roast, and three to boil,
               And three to bait the line.
                                   <1Old Song>1
             Saw never man so faynt a levand wycht,
             And na ferlye, for ouir excelland lycht
       Corruptis the witt, and garris the blude awail,
         Until the harte, thocht it na dainger aill,
             Quhen it is smorit menberis wirk not rychte,
         The dreadfulle terrour swa did him assaile.
                                   <1Pal. of Hon.>1

BERWICK was then in the hands of the English, and com-
manded by Sir Thomas Musgrave, the captain of Roxburgh's
cousin; so also was Norham, and all the forts between, on
that side of the river. Notwithstanding of this, the power of
the Scots predominated so much in the open field during
that reign, that this chain of forts proved finally of no avail
to Lord Musgrave, (or Sir Philip Musgrave, as he is generally
denominated,) though he had depended on keeping the
communication open, else in victualling Roxburgh he had
calculated basely. The garrison were already reduced to the
greatest extremes; they were feeding on their horses and on
salted hides; and, two or three days previous to this, their
only communication with their countrymen had been cut
off, they could not tell how. It was at best only precarious,
being carried on in the following singular way.--The be-
sieged had two communications with the river, by secret
covered ways from the interior of the fortress. In each of
these they had a small windlass, that winded on and let off
a line nearly a mile in length. The lines were very small, being
made of plaited brass wire; and, putting a buoy on a hook at
the end of each one of these, they let them down the water.
Their friends knowing the very spot where they stopped,
watched, and put dispatches on the hooks, with fish, beef,
venison, and every kind of convenience, which they pulled
up below the water, sometimes for a whole night together;
and though this proved but a scanty supply for a whole
garrison, it was for a long time quite regular, and they depend-
ed a good deal on it.
   But one night it so chanced that an old fisherman, who
fished for the monastery, had gone out with his coble by
night to spear salmon in the river. He had a huge blaze
flaming in a grate that stood exalted over the prow of his
wherry; and with the light of that he pricked the salmon out
of their deep recesses with great acuteness. As he was plying
his task he perceived a fish of a very uncommon size and
form scouring up the river with no ordinary swiftness. At
first he started, thinking he had seen the devil: but a fisher
generally strikes at every thing he sees in the water. He
struck it with his barbed spear, called on Tweed a <1leister,>1 and
in a moment had it into his boat. It was an excellent sirloin
of beef. The man was in utter amazement, for it was dead,
and lay without moving, like other butcher meat; yet he was
sure he saw it running up the water at full speed. He never
observed the tiny line of plaited wire, nor the hook, which
indeed was buried in the lire; and we may judge with what
surprise he looked on this wonderful fish,--this phenomenon
of all aquatic productions. However, as it seemed to lie
peaceably enough, and looked very well as a piece of beef,
he resolved to let it remain, and betake himself again to his
business. Never was there an old man so bewildered as he was,
when he again looked into the river,--never either on Tweed
or any other river on earth. Instead of being floating <1down>1
the river peaceably in his boat, as one naturally expects to do,
he discovered that he was running straight against the stream.
He expected to have missed about fifty yards of the river by
his adventure with the beef; but--no!--instead of that he was
about the same distance advanced in his return up the stream.
The windlass at the castle, and the invisible wire line, of
which he had no conception, having been still dragging him
gradually up. ""Saint Mary, the mother of God, protect and
defend poor Sandy Yellowlees!'' cried he; ""What can be the
meaning of this? Is the world turned upside down? Aha! our
auld friend, Michael Scott, has some hand i' this! He's no to
cree legs wi': I's be quits wi' him.'' With that he tumbled his
beef again into the water, which held on its course with
great rapidity straight up the stream, while he and his boat
returned quietly in the contrary and natural direction.
   ""Aye, there it goes,'' cried Sandy, ""straight on for Aik-
wood!  I's warrant that's for the warlock's an' the deil's
dinner the morn. God be praised I'm free o't, or I should
soon have been there to!''
  Old Sandy fished down the river, but he could kill no
more salmon that night,--for his nerves had got a shock with
this new species of fishing that he could not overcome. He
missed one; wounded another on the tail; and struck a third
on the rigback, where no leister can pierce a fish, till he made
him spring above water. Sandy grew chagrined at himself and
the warlock, Michael Scott, too--for this last was what he
called ""a real prime fish.'' Sandy pipped the leister a little
firmer, clenched his teeth, and drew his bonnet over his eyes
to shield them from the violence of his blaze. He then banned
the wizard into himself, and determined to kill the next fish
that made his appearance. But, just as he was keeping watch
in this guise, he perceived another fish something like the
former, but differing in some degree, coming swagging up
the river full speed.  ""My heart laup to my teeth,'' said
Sandy, ""when I saw it coming, and I heaved the leister, but
durstna strike; but I lookit weel, an' saw plainly that it was
either a side o' mutton or venison, I couldna tell whilk. But
I loot it gang, an' shook my head. "Aha, Michael, lad,' quo' I,
"ye hae countit afore your host for aince! Auld Sandy has
beguiled ye. But ye weel expeckit to gie him a canter to hell
the night.' I rowed my boat to the side, an' made a' the
haste hame I could, for I thought auld Michael had taen the
water to himsel that night.''
  Sandy took home his few fish, and went to sleep, for all
was quiet about the abbey and the cloisters of his friends, the
monks; and when he awoke next morning he could scarcely
believe the evidence of his own senses, regarding what he had
seen during the night. He arose and examined his fishes, and
could see nothing about them that was not about other
salmon. Still he strongly suspected they too might be some
connections of Michael's,--something illusory, if not worse;
and took care to eat none of them himself, delivering them
all to the cook of the monastery. The monks ate them, and
throve very well; and as Sandy had come by no bodily harm,
he determined to try the fishing once again, and if he met with
any more such fish of passage to examine them a little better.
He went out with his boat, light, and fish-spear as usual; and
scarcely had he taken his station, when he perceived one of a
very uncommon nature approaching. He did not strike at it,
but only put his leister-grains before it as if to stop its
course, when he found the pressure against the leister very
strong. On pulling the leister towards him, one of the barbs
laid hold of the line by which the phenomenon was led;and
not being able to get rid of it, he was obliged to pullit into
the boat. It was a small cask of Malmsey wine; and at once,
owing to the way it was drawn out, he discovered the hook and
line fastened to the end of it. These he disengaged with some
difficulty, the pull being so strong and constant; and the myst-
ery was thus found out. In a few minutes afterwards he seized
a large sheaf of arrows; and some time after, at considerable
intervals, a number of excellent sides of beef and venison.
   Sandy Yellowlees saw that he could now fish to some
purpose, and formed a resolution of being the last man in the
world to tell his countrymen of this resource that the enemy
had. The thing of which he was most afraid was a discovery.
He knew that the articles would soon be missed, and that
his light would betray him; and then a flight of arrows, or
even a single one, from a lurking foe at the side of the river,
would put an end to his fishing for ever. Such an opportunity
was not to be given up, notwithstanding of this danger; so,
after much prying, both by day and by night, Sanders found
that at an abrupt crook in the water, whatever the line
brought up came close to the side, and when the water was
low it even trailed them over a point of level sand-bed quite
dry. This was a joyous discovery for Sandy. He had nothing
ado but to sail down in his boat when it grew dark, and lie
lurking at this crook in the water, and make a prey of what-
ever came within his reach. The very first night he filled his
boat half full of valuable stuff. There was a necessity for dis-
posing of a part of this, and Sandy was obliged to aver that
he had discovered a hidden store belonging to the English;
and, moreover, he hinted that he could supply the towns of
Kelso and Roxburgh, the abbey of the one and the priory of
the other, for some time to come. Great was the search, that
was made about the banks of the river, but no one could find
the store; yet Sanders Yellowlees continued to supply the
market with luxuries, tho' no one knew how. Intelligence
was sent down the stream, with the buoys, of the seizure of
the provisions, and of the place where they were taken off,
which they knew from the failure of the weight they were
pulling to be always at the same place. The news also spread
of Sandy's stores, and both reached the secret friends of the
English, from whom the provisions were nightly sent to their
beseiged friends and benefactors, with all the caution and
secrecy possible, it being given them to understand that on
that supply alone depended the holding out of the fortress.
  Many schemes were now tried to entrap Sandy, but all
without effect; for the Scots had a strong post surrounding
that very point where Sandy caught all his spoil. It was im-
possible to reach it but by a boat; and no boat was allowed
on the river but that one that belonged to the abbey. At
length an English trooper undertook to seize this old dep-
redator. Accordingly, in the dead of the night, when the
lines came down, he seized them both, twisted them into one,
and walked silently up the side of the river until he came nigh
to the spot where the Scots lines on each side joined the
stream. He then put the two hooks into his buff belt, and
committing himself to the water, was dragged in silence and
perfect safety up the pool between the outposts.
   The first turn above that was the point where Sandy lay
watching. He had only seized one prey that night, and that was
of no great value,--for they had given over sending up victuals
to enrich an old Scots rascal, as they termed honest Sanders.
He was glad when he saw the wake of a heavy burden coming
slowly towards him. ""This is a sack o' sweet-meats,'' said he
to himself: ' It must be currans an raisins, an' sic fine things
as are na injured by the fresh water. I shall get a swinging
price from the abbey-men for them, to help wi' their
Christmas pies.''
   No sooner did this huge load touch the land, than Sandy
seized it with all expedition; but, to his inexpressible horror,
the sack of sweetmeats seized him in its turn, and that with
such potence that he was instantaneously overpowered. He
uttered one piercing cry, and no more, before the trooper
gagged and pinioned him. The Scottish lines were alarmed,
and all in motion, and the troops on both sides were crowding
to the bank of the stream. A party was approaching the spot
where the twain were engaged in the unequal struggle. To
return down the stream with his prisoner, as he intended, was
impracticable; so the trooper had no alternative left but that
of throwing himself into Sandy's boat, with its owner in his
arms, shoving her from the side into the deep, and trusting
himself to the strength of the wirelines. As the windlasses were
made always to exert the same force and no more, by re-
sisting that they could be stopped; so by pushing the boat
from the side in the direction of the castle, the line being
slackened, that again set them agoing with great velocity; and
though they soon slackened in swiftness, the trooper escaped
with his prisoner undiscovered, and, by degrees, was dragged
up to the mouth of the covered way that led through or
under the hill on which the castle stood; and there was poor
Sanders Yellowlees delivered into the hands of his incensed
and half-famished enemies. It was he that was hanged over
the wall of the castle on the day that the five English yeo-
men were executed. *
   The English now conceived that their secret was undis-
covered, and that their sufferings would forthwith be mitigated
by the supply drawn by their lines. They commenced briskly

* As there can be no doubt of the autenticity of this part of the Curate's tale,
these secret passsges must have been carried under ground all the way from
the castle to the junction of the two rivers; and it is said that a tradition still
exists on the spot, that these vaulted paths have often been discovered by
former inbabitants.
and successfully; but, alas! their success was of short duration.
Sanders' secret became known to the Scots army. The night-
watchers had often seen the old man's boat leaning on the
shore at that point at all hours of the night; for he was always
free to go about plodding for fish when he pleased. His cry
was heard at that spot, and the boat was now missing: the
place was watched, and in two days the Englishmen's secret,
on which they so much relied, was discovered, and quite cut
off; and that powerful garrison was now left with absolute
famine staring them in the face.
   As in all cases of utter privation, the men grew ungovern-
able. Their passions were chafed, and foamed like the ocean
before the commencement of a tempest, foreboding nothing
but anarchy and commotion. Parties were formed of the most
desperate opposition to one another, and every one grew
suspicious of his neighbour. Amid all this tempest of passion
a mutiny broke out:--a strong party set themselves to deliver
up the fortress to the Scots. But through such a medley of
jarring opinions what project could succeed? The plot was
soon discovered, the ringleaders secured, and Sir Stephen
Vernon, Musgrave's most tried and intimate friend, found to
be at the head of it. No pen can do justice to the astonish-
ment manifested by Musgrave when the treachery of his
dear friend was fully proven. His whole frame and mind
received a shock as by electricity, and he gazed around him
in moody madness, as not knowing whom to trust, and as if
he deemed those around him were going to be his assassins.
   ""Wretch that I am!'' cried he, ""What is there more to
afflict and rend this heart? Do I breathe the same air? Do I
live among the same men? Do I partake of the same nature
and feelings as I was wont? My own friend and brother
Vernon, has he indeed lifted up his hand against me, and
become one with my enemies? Whom now shall I trust?
Must my dearest hopes--my honour, and the honour of my
country, be sacrificed to disaffection and treachery? Oh
Vernon--my brother Vernon, how art thou fallen!''
   ""I confess my crime,'' said Vernon; ""and I submit to my
fate, since a crime it must be deemed. But it was out of love
and affection to you, that your honour might not stoop to
our haughty enemies. To hold out the fortress is impossible,
and to persevere in the attempt utter depravity. Suppose you
feed on one another, before the termination of the Christmas
holidays, the remnant that will be left will not be able to
guard the sallying ports, even though the ramparts are left
unmanned. In a few days I shall see my brave young friend
and companion in arms, your brother, disgracefully put down,
and ere long the triumphant Scots enter, treading over the
feeble remains of this yet gallant army. I may bide a traitor's
blame, and be branded with a traitor's name, but it was to
save my friends that I strove; for I tell you, and some of you
will live to see it, to hold out the castle is impossible.''
   ""It is false!'' cried Musgrave. ""It is false! It is false!'' cried
every voice present in the judgment-hall, with frantic rage;
and all the people, great and small, flew on the culprit to
tear him to pieces; for their inveteracy against the Scots
still grew with their distress.
   ""It is false! It is false!'' shouted they. ""Down with the
traitor! sooner shall we eat the flesh from our own bones
than deliver up the fortress to the Scots! Down with the
false knave! down with the traitor!''--and, in the midst of a
tumult that was quite irresistible, Vernon was borne up on
their shoulders, and hurried to execution, smiling with derision
at their madness, and repeating their frantic cries in mockery.
It was in vain that the commander strove to save his friend,--
as well might he have attempted to have stemmed the river
in its irresistible course single-handed. Vernon and his associ-
ates were hanged like dogs, amid shouts of execration, and
their bodies flung into a pit. When this was accomplished,
the soldiers waved their caps, and cried out, ""So fare it with
all who take part with our hateful enemies!''
   Musgrave shed tears at the fate of his brave companion,
and thenceforward was seized with gloomy despondency; for
he saw that subordination hung by a thread so brittle that
the least concussion would snap it asunder, and involve all
in inextricable confusion. His countenance and manner under-
went a visible change, and he often started on the approach
of any one toward him, and laid his hand on his sword. The
day appointed by the Douglas for the execution of Sir
Richard, provided the castle was not delivered up before
that period, was fast approaching,--an event that Musgrave
could not look forward to without distraction; and it was
too evident to his associates that his brave mind was so torn
by conflicting passions, that it stood in great danger of being
rooted up for ever.
   It is probable that at this time he would willingly have
complied with the dictates of nature, and saved the life of
his brother; but to have talked of yielding up the fortress to
the Scots at that period would only have been the prelude
to his being torn in pieces. It was no more their captain's
affair of love and chivalry that influenced them, but des-
perate animosity against their besiegers; and every one called
aloud for succours. Communication with their friends was
impracticable, but they hoped that their condition was known,
and that succours would soon appear.--Alas, their friends in
Northumberland had enough ado to defend themselves, nor
could they do it so effectually but that their lands were
sometimes harried to their very doors. The warden, with his
hardy mountaineers, was indefatigable; and the English
garrison were now so closely beleaguered, that all chance of
driving a prey from the country faded from their hopes.
Never was the portcullis drawn up, nor the draw-bridge at
either end let down, that intelligence was not communicated
by blast of bugle to the whole Scottish army, who were
instantly on the alert. The latter fared sumptuously, while
those within the walls were famishing; and at length the day
appointed for the execution of Sir Richard drew so near that
three days only were to run.
   It had been customary for the English, whenever the Scots
sent out a herald, bearing the flag of truce, to make any pro-
posal whatsoever, to salute him with a flight of arrows; all
communication or listening to proposals being strictly for-
bidden by the captain, on pain of death. However, that day,
when the Douglas' herald appeared on the rising ground,
called the Hill of Barns, Musgrave caused answer him by a
corresponding flag, hoping it might be some proposal of a
ransom for the life of his beloved brother, on which the
heralds had an interchange of words at the draw-bridge. The
Scottish herald made demand of the castle in his captain's
name, and added, that the Douglas requested it might be
done instantly, to save the life of a brave and noble youth,
whom he would gladly spare, but could not break his word
and his oath that he should suffer. He farther assured the
English captain, that it was in vain for him to sacrifice his
brother, for that he had the means in his power to bring him
under subjection the day following, if he chose.
   A council of the gentlemen in the castle was called. Every
one spoke in anger, and treated the demand with derision.
Musgrave spoke not a word; but, with a look of unstable
attention on every one that spoke, collected their verdicts,
and in a few minutes this answer was returned to the re-
quisition of the Scots.
   ""If Sir Philip Musgrave himself, and every English knight
and gentleman in the castle were now in the hands of the
Douglas, and doomed to the same fate of their brave young
friend, still the Douglas should not gain his point,--the castle
would not be delivered up. The garrison scorn his proposals,
they despise his threats, and they hold his power at defiance.
Such tender mercies as he bestows, such shall he experience.
He shall only take the castle by treading over the breasts of
the last six men that remain alive in it.''
   This was the general answer for the garrison--in the mean-
time Musgrave requested, as a personal favour of the Douglas,
that he might see and condole with his brother one hour
before his fatal exit. The request was readily complied with,
and every assurance of safe conduct and protection added.
The Douglas' pavilion stood on the rising ground, between
the castle and the then splendid city of Roxburgh, a
position from which he had a view of both rivers, and all that
passed around the castle, and in the town; but, since the
commencement of winter he had lodged over night in a
tower that stood in the middle of the High-town, called the
King's House, that had prisons underneath, and was strongly
guarded; but during the day he continued at the pavilion, in
order to keep an eye over the siege.
   To this pavilion, therefore, Musgrave was suffered to pass,
with only one knight attendant; and all the way from the
drawbridge to the tent they passed between two files of
armed soldiers, whose features, forms, and armour exhibited
a strange contrast. The one rank was made up of Mar High-
landers; men short of stature, with red locks, high cheek
bones, and looks that indicated a ferocity of nature; the
other was composed of Lowlanders from the dales of the
south and the west; men clothed in grey, with sedate looks,
strong athletic frames, and faces of blunt and honest bravery.
Musgrave weened himself passing between the ranks of two
different nations, instead of the vassals of one Scottish noble-
man. At the pavilion, the state, splendour, and number of
attendant knights and squires amazed him; but by them all
he was received with the most courteous respect.
   Sir Richard was brought up from the vaults of the King's
House to the tent, as the most convenient place for the
meeting with his brother, and for the guards to be stationed
around them; and there, being placed in one of the apart-
ments of the pavilion, his brother was ushered in to him. No
one was present at the meeting; but, from an inner apartment,
all that passed between them was overheard. Musgrave clasped
his younger brother in his arms; the other could not return
the embrace, for his chains were not taken off; but their
meeting was passionately affecting, as the last meeting be-
tween two brothers must always be. When the elder retired
a step, that they might gaze on each other, what a difference
in appearance!--what a contrast they exhibited to each other!
The man in chains, doomed to instant death, had looks of
blooming health, and manly fortitude: The free man, the
renowned Lord Musgrave, governor of the impregnable but
perilous castle of Roxburgh, and the affianced lord and
husband to the richest and most beautiful lady in England,
was the picture of haggard despair and misfortune. He appeared
but the remnant, the skeleton of the hero he had lately
been; and a sullen instability of mind flashed loweringly in
his dark eye. His brother was almost terrified at his looks,
for he regarded him sometimes as with dark suspicion, and
as if he dreaded him to be an incendiary.
   ""My dear brother,'' said Sir Richard, ""what is it that hangs
upon your mind, and discomposes you so much? You are
indeed an altered man since I had the misfortune to be taken
from you. Tell me, how fares all within the castle?''
   ""Oh, very well; quite well, brother. All perfectly secure--
quite well within the castle.'' But as he said this he strode
rapidly backward and forward across the small apartment,
and eyed the canvass on each side with a grin of rage, as if
he suspected that it concealed listeners; nor was he wrong in
his conjecture, though it was only caused by the frenzy of
habitual distrust. ""But, how can I be otherwise than dis-
composed, brother,'' continued he, ""when I am in so short a
time to see you sacrificed in the prime of youth and vigour,
to my own obstinacy and pride, perhaps.''
   ""I beg that you will not think of it, or take it at all to
heart,'' said the youth; ""I have made up my mind, and can
look death in the face without unbecoming dismay. I should
have preferred dying on the field of honour, with my sword
in my hand, rather than being hanged up between the hosts,
like a spy, or common malefactor. But let the tears that are
shed for Richard be other than salt brine from the eyes of the
Englishmen. Let them be the drops of purple blood from the
hearts of our enemies. I charge you, by the spirits of our
fathers, whom I am so shortly to join, and by the blessed
Trinity, that you act in this trying dilemma as the son of the
house you represent. Shed not a tear for me, but revenge my
death on the haughty house of Douglas.''
   ""There is my hand! Here is my sword! But the vital motion,
or the light of reason, who shall ensure to me till these things
are fulfilled? Nay, who shall ensure them to this wasted
frame for one moment? I am not the man I have been,
brother:  But here I will swear to you, by all the host of
heaven, to revenge your death, or die in the fulfilment of my
vow. Yes, fully will I revenge it! I will waste! waste! waste!
and the fire that is begun within shall be quenched, and no
tongue shall utter it! Ha! Ha, Ha! shall it not be so, brother?''
   ""This is mere raving, brother; I have nothing from this.''
   ""No, it is not; for there is a fire that you wot not of. But I
will quench it, though with my own blood. Brother, there is
one thing I wish to know, and for that purpose did I come
hither. Do you think it behoves me to suffer you to perish in
this affair? ''
   ""That depends entirely upon your internal means of
defence,'' answered Richard. ""If there is a certainty, or even
a probability, that the castle can hold until relieved by our
friends, which will not likely be previous to the time you have
appointed for them to attempt it; why, then, I would put no
account on the life of one man. Were I in your place, I would
retain my integrity in opposition to the views of Douglas; but
if it is apparent to you, who knows all your own resources, that
the castle must yield, it is needless to throw away the life of
your brother, sacrificing it to the pride of opposition for a
day or a week.''
   Musgrave seemed to be paying no regard to this heroic and
disinterested reasoning,--for he was still pacing to and fro,
gnawing his lip; and if he was reasoning, or thinking at all, was
following out the train of his own unstable mind,--""Because,
if I were sure,'' said he, ""that you felt that I was acting un-
kindly or unnaturally by you, by the Rood, I would carve
the man into fragments that would oppose my submission to
save my brother. I would teach them that Musgrave was not
to be thwarted in his command of the castle that was taken
by his own might and device, and to the government of
which his sovereign appointed him. If a dog should dare to bay
at me in opposition to my will, whatever it were, I would
muzzle the hound, and make him repent his audacity.''
   ""My noble brother,'' said Richard, ""what is the meaning of
this frenzy? No one is opposing your will, and I well believe
no one within the castle will attempt it--''
   ""Because they dare not!'' said he, furiously, interrupting
his brother: ""They dare not, I tell you! But if they durst,
what do you think I would do? Ha, ha, ha!''
   Douglas overheard all this, and judging it a fit time to
interfere, immediately a knight opened the door of the apart-
ment where the two brothers conversed, and announced the
Lord Douglas. Musgrave composed himself with wonderful
alacrity; and the greeting between the two great chiefs,
though dignified, was courteous and apparently free of rancour
or jealousy. Douglas first addressed his rival as follows:
   ""I crave pardon, knights, for thus interrupting you. I will
again leave you to yourselves; but I judged it incumbent on me,
as a warrior and a knight of honour, to come, before you
settled finally on your mode of procedure, and conjure you,
Lord Philip Musgrave, to save the life of your brother--''
   ""Certainly you will not put down my brave brother, Lord
Douglas?'' said Musgrave, interrupting him.
   ""As certainly,'' returned he, ""as you put down my two
kinsmen, Cleland and Douglas of Rowlaw, in mere spite and
wanton cruelty, because they were beloved and respected by
me. I am blameless, as it was yourself who began this unwar-
rantable system, and my word is passed. Sir Richard must
die, unless the keys of the castle are delivered to me before
Friday at noon. But I shall be blameless in any thing further.
I conjure you to save him; and as an inducement, assure you,
by the honour of knighthood, that your resistance is not only
unnatural, but totally useless; for I have the means of com-
manding your submission when I please.''
   ""Lord Douglas, I defy thee!'' answered Musgrave. ""You
hold the life in your hand that I hold dearest on earth, save
one. For these two would I live or die; but, since thy in-
veterate enmity will not be satisfied with ought short of the
life of my only brother, take it; and may my curse, and the
curse of heaven, be your guerdon. It shall only render the
other doubly dear to me; and, for her sake, will I withstand
your proud pretensions; and, as she enjoined me, hold this
castle, with all its perils, till the expiry of the Christmas
holidays, in spite of you. I defy your might and your ire. Let
your cruel nature have its full sway. Let it be gorged with the
blood of my kinsfolk; it shall only serve to make my opposit-
ion the stronger and more determined. For the sake of her
whom I serve, the mistress of my heart and soul, I will hold
my resolution,--Do your worst!''
   ""So be it!'' said Douglas. ""Remember that I do not, like
you, fight only in the enthusiasm of love and chivalry, but
for the very being of my house. I will stick at no means of
retaliating the injuries you have done to me and mine, how-
ever unjustifiable these may appear to some,--no act of
cruelty, to attain the prize for which I contend. Little do you
know what you are doomed to suffer, and that in a short
space of time. I again conjure you to save the life of your
brother, by yielding up to me your ill-got right, and your
conditions shall be as liberal as you can desire.''
   ""I will yield you my estate to save my brother, but not the
castle of Roxburgh. Name any other ransom but that, and I
will treat with you. Ask what I can grant with honour, and
command it.''
   ""Would you give up the life of a brave only brother to
gratify the vanity and whim of a romantic girl, who, if present
herself, would plead for the life of Sir Richard, maugre all
other considerations, else she has not the feelings of woman?
What would you give, Lord Musgrave, to see that lady, and
hear her sentiments on the subject?''
   ""I would give much to see her. But, rather than see her in
this place, I would give all the world and my life's blood into
the bargain. But of that I need not have any fear. You have
conjurors among you, it is said, and witches that can raise up
the dead, but their power extends not to the living, else who
of my race would have been left?''
   ""I have more power than you divine; and I will here give
you a simple specimen of it, to convince you how vain it is to
contend with me. You are waging war with your own vain
imagination, and suffer all this wretchedness for a thing that
has neither being nor name.''
   Douglas then lifted a small gilded bugle that hung always
at his sword belt, the language of which was well known to all
the army; and on that he gave two blasts not louder than a
common whistle, when instantly the door of the apartment
opened, and there entered Lady Jane Howard, leaning on her
female attendant, dressed in attire of princely magnificence.
""Lady Jane Howard!'' exclaimed Sir Richard, starting up,
and struggling with his fettered arms to embrace her. But
when the vision met the eyes of Lord Musgrave, he uttered a
shuddering cry of horror, and sprung with a convulsive leap
back into the corner of the tent. There he stood, like the
statue of distraction, with his raised hands pressed to each
side of his helmet, as if he had been strenuously holding his
head from splitting asunder.
   ""So! Friend and foe have combined against me!'' cried he
wildly. ""Earth and hell have joined their forces in opposition
to one impotent human thing! And what his crime? He pre-
sumed on no more than what he did, and could have done;
but who can stand against the powers of darkness, and the
unjust decrees of heaven? Yes; unjust! I say unjust! Down
with all decrees to the centre! There's no truth in heaven! I
weened there was, but it is as false as the rest! I say as false!--
falser than both!--I'll brave all the three! Ha, ha, ha!''
   Douglas had brought Lady Jane the apparel, and com-
manded her to dress in it; and, perceiving the stern, authoritat-
ive nature of the chief, she judged it meet to comply. At first
she entered with a languid dejected look, for she had been
given to understand something of the rueful nature of the
meeting she was called on to attend. But when she heard the
above infuriated rhapsody, and turned her eyes in terror to
look on the speaker, whose voice she well knew, she uttered
a scream and fainted. Douglas supported her in his arms; and
Sir Richard, whose arms were in fetters, stood and wept over
her. But Musgrave himself only strode to and fro over the
floor of the pavilion, and uttered now and then a frantic
laugh. ""That is well!--That is well!'' exclaimed he; ""just as it
should be! I hope she will not recover. Surely she will not?''
and then bending himself back, and clasping his hands together,
he cried fervently: ""0 mother of God, take her to thyself
while she is yet pure and uncontaminated, or what heart of
flesh can endure the prospect? What a wreck in nature that
lovely form will soon be! Oh-oh-oh!''
   The lady's swoon was temporary. She soon began to
revive, and cast unsettled looks around in search of the object
that had so overpowered her; and, at the request of Sir
Richard, who perceived his brother's intemperate mood, she
was removed. She was so struck with the altered features,
looks, and deportment of the knight, who in her imagination
was every thing that was courteous, comely, and noble, and
whom she had long considered as destined to be her own,
that her heart was unable to stand the shock, and her removal
from his presence was an act of humanity.
   She was supported out of the tent by Douglas and her
female relation; but when Musgrave saw them leading her
away, he stepped rapidly in before them and interposed;
and, with a twist of his body, put his hand two or three times
to the place where the handle of his sword should have been.
The lady lifted her eyes to him, but there was no conception
in that look, and her lovely face was as pale as if the hand of
death had passed over it.
   Any one would have thought that such a look from the
lady of his love, in such a forlorn situation, and in the hands
of his mortal enemy, would have totally uprooted the last
fibres of his distempered mind. But who can calculate on the
medicine suited to a diseased spirit? The cures even of some
bodily diseases are those that would poison a healthy frame.
So did it prove in this mental one. He lifted his hand from
his left side, where he had thrust it convulsively in search of
his sword, and clapping it on his forehead, he seemed to
resume the command of himself at once, and looked as calm
and serene as in the most collected moments of his life.
   When they were gone, he said to Sir Richard, in the hearing
of the guards: ""Brother, what is the meaning of this? What
English traitor has betrayed that angelic maid into the hands
of our enemy?''
   "To me it is incomprehensible,'' said Sir Richard: ""I was
told of it by my keeper last night, but paid no regard to the
information, judging it a piece of wanton barbarity; but now
my soul shudders at the rest of the information that he
added.''
   ""What more did the dog say?'' said Musgrave.
   ""He said he had heard that it was resolved by the Douglasses,
that, if you did not yield up the fortress and citadel freely,
on or before the day of the conception of the Blessed Virgin,
on that day at noon the lady of your heart should be exhibited
in a state not to be named on a stage erected on the top of
the Bush-law, that faces the western tower, and is divided
from it only by the moat; and there before your eyes, and in
sight of both hosts, compelled to yield to that disgrace which
barbarians only could have conceived; and then to have her
nose cut off, her eyes put out, and her beauteous frame other-
wise disfigured.''
   ""He dares not for his soul's salvation do such a deed!''
said Musgrave; ""No; there's not a bloodhound that ever
mouthed the air of his cursed country durst do a deed like
that. And though every Douglas is a hound confest, where is
the mongrel among them that durst but howl of such an
outrage in nature? Why, the most absolute fiend would
shrink from it: Hell would disown it; and do you think the
earth would bear it?''
   ""Brother, suspend your passion, and listen to the voice of
reason and of nature. Your cause is lost, but not your honour.
You took and have kept that fortress, to the astonishment
of the world. But for what do you now fight? or what can
your opposition avail?  Let me beseech you not to throw
away the lives of those you love most on earth thus wantonly,
but capitulate on honourable terms, and rescue your betroth-
ed bride and your only brother from the irritated Scots.
Trust not that they will stick at any outrage to accomplish
their aim. Loth would I be to know our name were dis-
honoured by any pusillanimity on the part of my brother;
but desperate obstinacy is not bravery. I, therefore, conjure
you to save me, and her in whom all your hopes of future
felicity are bound up.''
   Musgrave was deeply affected; and, at that instant, before
he had time to reply, Douglas re-entered.
   ""Scots lord, you have overcome me.'' said he, with a
pathos that could not be exceeded: ""Yes you have conquered,
but not with your sword. Not on the field, nor on the wall,
have ye turned the glaive of Musgrave; but either by some
infernal power, or else by chicanery and guile, the ever-
lasting resources of your cursed nation. It boots not me to
know how you came possessed of this last and only remaining
pledge of my submission. It is sufficient you have it. I yield
myself your prisoner;let me live or die with those two already
in your power.''
   ""No, knight, that must not be,'' replied Douglas. ""You
are here on safe conduct and protection; my honour is
pledged, and must not be forfeited. You shall return in safety
to your kinsmen and soldiers, and act by their counsel. It is
not prisoners I want, but the castle of Roxburgh, which is
the right of my sovereign and my nation,--clandestinely taken,
and wrongously held by you. I am neither cruel nor severe
beyond the small range that points to that attainment; but
that fortress I will have,--else wo be to you, and all who ad-
vise withholding it, as well as all their connexions to whom
the power of Scotland can extend. If the castle is not
delivered up before Friday at noon, your brother shall
suffer,--that you already know. But at the same hour on the
day of the Conception, if it is still madly and wantonly
detained, there shall be such a scene transacted before your
eyes as shall blur the annals of the Border for ever.''
   ""If you allude to any injury intended to the lady who is
your prisoner,'' said Musgrave, ""the cruellest fiend in hell
could not have the heart to hurt such angelic purity and
loveliness; and it would degrade the honour of knighthood
for ever to suffer it. Cruel as you are, you dare not injure a
hair of her head.''
   ""Talk not of cruelty in me,'' said Douglas: ""If the knight
who is her lover will not save her, how should I? You have it
in your power, and certainly it is you that behove to do it;
even granting that the stakes for which we fought were equal,
the task of redemption and the blame would rest solely with
you. And how wide is the difference between the prizes for
which we contend? I for my love, my honour, and the very
existence of my house and name; and you for you know not
what,--the miserable pride of opposition. Take your measures,
my lord, I will not be mocked.''
   Douglas left the apartment. Musgrave also arose and em-
braced his brother, and, as he parted from him, he spoke
these ominous words: ""Farewell, my dear Richard. May the
angels that watch over honour be your guardians in the hour
of trial. You know not what I have to endure from tor-
mentors without and within. But hence we meet not again
in this state of existence. The ties of love must be broken,
and the bands of brotherly love burst asunder,--nevertheless
I will save you--A long farewell my brother.''
   Musgrave was then conducted back to the draw-bridge,
between two long files of soldiers as before, while all the
musicians that belonged either to the army or the city were
ranked up in a line behind them, on the top of the great
precipice that overhangs the Teviot, playing, on all manner of
instruments, <1""Turn the Blue Bonnets wha can, wha can,''>1
with such a tremendous din that one would have thought
every stone in the walls of Roxburgh was singing out the
bravado.
              CHAPTER VIII

           Qnhat weywerde elfin thynge is thaten boie,
           That hyngethe still upon myne gaire, as doeth
           My synne of harte? And quhome rychte loth, I lofe
           With not les hanckerynge. His locent eyne,
           And his tungis maiter comethe on myne sense
           Lyke a remembourance; or lyke ane dreime
           That had delytis in it. Quhen I wolde say
           ""Begone;'' lo then my tung mistakethe quyte,
           Or fanceyinge not the terme, it sayethe ""Come hidder,
           Come hidder, crabbed boie, unto myne syde.''

                                          <1Old Play>1

THAT evening, after the departure of the noble and dis-
tressed Musgrave, Douglas was sitting all alone musing in a
secret apartment of the pavilion, when he heard a gentle
tap at the door. ""Who's there?'' inquired he surlily: ""It is I,
my lor','' said a petulant treble voice without. ""Aha! my
excellent nondescript little fellow, Colin Roy, is it you?
Why, you may come in.'' Colin entered dressed in a most
elegant and whimsical livery, and, forgetting himself, made
the Douglas two or three graceful courtesies instead of bows.
   ""Aye, hem,'' said he, ""that's very well for the page of a
princess. I suppose you have been studying the graces from
your accomplished mistress? But where have you been all
this while? I have felt the loss of you from my hand griev-
ously.''
   ""I have been waiting on my royal mistress my lor', inform-
ing her of all that is going on at the siege, and of your good
fortune in the late captures you have made, wherein she
rejoices exceedingly, and wishes you all good fortune and
forward success; and, in token of kind remembrance, she
sends you this heart of ruby set in gold and diamonds,--a
gem that befits your lordship well to wear. And many more
matters she has given me in charge, my lor'.''
   Douglas kissed the locket, and put it in his bosom, and
then uttered abundance of the extravagant bombast peculiar
to that age. He called her his guardian angel, his altar of incense,
and the saint of his devotion, the buckler of his arm, the
sword in his hand, and the jewel of his heart. ""Do you think,
Colin,'' added he, ""that ever there was a maiden born like
this royal lady of my love?''
   ""Why, my lor', I am not much skilled in these matters, but
I believe the wench, my mistress, is well enough;--that is, she
is well formed. And yet she is but so so.''
   ""How dare you, you piece of unparalleled impudence, talk
of your royal mistress in that strain? Or where did you ever
see a form or features so elegant, and so bewitchingly
lovely?''
   ""Do you think so?--Well, I'm glad of it. I think she is
coarse and masculine. Where did I ever see such a form, in-
deed! Yes I have seen a much finer limb, and an arm, and a
hand too! What think you of that for a hand, my lor'?''--
(and with that the urchin clapped his hand on the green
table, first turning up the one side of it and then the other.)--
""I say if that hand were as well kept, and that arm as well
loaden with bracelets, and the fingers with diamond rings, it
would be as handsome as your princess's, of which you boast
so much,--aye, and handsomer too.''
   ""You are a privileged boy, Colin, otherwise I would kick
you heartily, and, moreover, cause you to be whipped by the
hand of the common executioner. However, you are a con-
fidant,--all is well from you; and, to say the truth, yours is a
very handsome hand for a boy's hand,--so is your arm. But
what are they to those of my lovely and royal Margaret?--
mere deformity! the husk of the wheat!''
   ""Indeed, my lor', you have an excellent taste, and a no
less gifted discernment!''
   ""I cannot conceive of any earthly being equalling my
beauteous princess, whether in the qualifications of body or
mind.''
   ""I rejoice to hear it. How blind love is! Why, in sober
reality, there is the Lady Jane Howard. Is there any com-
parison between the princess and that lady in beauty?''
   ""She is, I confess, a most exquisite creature, Colin, even
though rival to my adorable lady; in justice it must be
acknowledged she is <1almost>1 peerless in beauty. I do not
wonder at Musgrave's valour when I see the object of it.
But why do you redden as with anger, boy, to hear my
commendations of that hapless lady?''
   ""I, my lord? How should I redden with anger? On my
honour, craving my Lord Douglas' pardon, I am highly pleased.
I think she is much more beautiful than you have said, and
that you should have spoken of her in a more superlative
degree, and confessed frankly that you would willingly
exchange your betrothed lady for her. I cannot chuse but
think her very beautiful; too beautiful, indeed, with her blue
eyes, white teeth, and ruddy lips. I dont like such bright blue
eyes. I could almost find in my heart to scratch them out,
she is so like a wanton. So you don't wonder at Lord
Musgrave's valour, after having seen his mistress? Well, I
advise your lordship, your captainship, and your besieger-
ship, that there are some who wonder very much at your
<1want>1 of valour. I tell you this in confidence. My mistress
thinks you hold her charms only at a small avail, that you
have not <1gone into>1 that castle long ago, and turned out these
Englishmen, or hung them up by the necks if they refused.
Musgrave went in and took it at once, for the favour of his
mistress; because, forsooth, he deemed her worthy of the
honour of such a bold emprize. Why, then, do not you do
the same? My mistress,to be sure,is a woman,--a very woman;
but she says this, that it is superabundantly ungallant of you
not to have <1gone in>1 and taken possession of the castle long
ago. Do you know that (poor kind creature!) she has retired
to a convent, where she continues in a state of sufferance,
using daily invocations at the shrines of saints for your
success. And she has, moreover, made a vow not to braid
her hair, nor dress herself in princely apparel until the day of
your final success. Surely, my lor', you ought <1to take that>1
<1castle,>1 and relieve my dear mistress from this durance. I
almost weep when I think of-her, and must say with her
that she has been shabbily used, and that she has reason to
envy Lady Jane Howard even in her captivity.''
   ""Colin, you are abundantly impertinent: but there is no
stopping of your tongue once it is set a-going. As to the
taking of castles, these things come not under the cognizance
of boys or women. But indeed I knew not that my sovereign
lady the princess had absconded from the courtly circle of
her father's palace, and betaken herself to a convent on my
account. Every thing that I hear of that jewel endears her
to me the more.''
   ""What? even her orders for you <1to go into the castle,>1 and
put out the English? I assure you, my lor', she insists upon it.
Whether it is her impatience to be your bride, I know not,
but she positively will not be satisfied unless you very soon
<1go into that castle,>1 and put the Englishmen all to the outside
of it, where you are now; or hang them, and bury them out of
sight before she visits the place to congratulate you.''
   ""Boy, I have no patience with you. Cease your prating,
and inform me where my beloved mistress is, that I may
instantly visit her.''
   ""No; not for the Douglas' estate, which is now in the fire,
and may soon be brought to the anvil, will I inform you of
that. But, my lor', you know I must execute my commission.
And I tell you again, unless you take this castle very soon, you
will not only lose the favour of my mistress, but you will
absolutely break her heart. Nothing less will satisfy her. I
told her, there was a great moat, more than a hundred feet
deep, and as many wide, that surrounded the castle, and
flowed up to the base of its walls; that there was a large river
on each side of it, and that they were both dammed and
appeared like two standing seas--but all availed nought.
"There is a moat,' said I; "But let him go over that,' said she;
"let him swim it, or put a float on it. What is it to cross a pool
a hundred feet wide? How did Lord Musgrave pass over it?'
"There are strong walls on the other side,' said I: "But let him
go over these,' said she, "or break a hole through them and
go in. Men built the walls, why may not men pull them
down? How did Musgrave get over them?' "There are armed
men within,' said I: "But they are only Englishmen,' said she;
"Let Douglas' men put their swords into them, and make
them stand back. How did Musgrave get in when it was
defended by gallant Scots? Douglas is either no lover, or else
no warrior,' added she; ""or perhaps he is neither the one nor
the other.' ''
""Peace, sapling,'' said Douglas, frowning and stamping with
his foot, ""Peace, and leave the pavilion instantly.'' Colin went
away visibly repressing a laugh, which irritated Douglas still
the more; and as the urchin went, he muttered in a crying
whine, ""My mistress is very shabbily used!--very shabbily!
To have promised herself to a knight if he will but take a
castle for her, and to have fasted, and prayed, and vowed
vows for him, and yet he dares not go in and take it. And I am
shabbily used too; and that I'll tell her! Turned out before
I get half her message delivered! But I must inform you, my
lor', before I go, that since you are making no better use of
the advantage given you, I demand the prisoners back that I
lodged in your hand in my lady mistress' name, and by her
orders.''
""I will do no such thing to the whim of a teasing impert-
inent stripling, without my lady princess's hand and seal for
it,'' said Douglas.
""You shall not long want that,'' said Colin; and pulling a
letter out from below his sash, he gave it to him. It was the
princess's hand and seal,--it being an easy matter for Colin to
get what letters he listed. Douglas opened it, and read as
follows:
""LORD DOUGLAS,--In token of my best wishes for your
success, I send you these, with greeting. I hope you will take
immediate advantage of the high superiority afforded you in
this contest, by putting some indelible mark, or public stain,
on the lusty dame I put into your hands. If Musgrave be a

                          73
knight of any gallantry he will never permit it, but yield. As I
cannot attend personally, I request that the mode and degree
of punishment you inflict may be left to my page Colin. That
you have not been successful by such means already, hath
much surprised                                   Margaret.''

   ""This is not a requisition to give you up the prisoners,''
said Douglas, ""but merely a request that the punishment
inflicted may be left to you, a request which must not be
denied to the lady of my heart. Now, pray, Master Colin Roy
MacAlpin, what punishment do you decree for the Lady
Jane Howard? For my part, though I intended to threaten
the most obnoxious treatment, to induce my opponent to
yield, I could not for my dearest interests injure the person
of that exquisite lady.''
   ""You could not, in good troth? I suppose my mistress has
good reason to be jealous of you two. But since the power
is left with me I shall prevent that; I shall see her punished as
she deserves: I'll have no shameful exposures of a woman,
even were she the meanest plebeian, but I'll mar her beauty
that she thinks so much of, and that <1you>1 think so much of.
I'll have her nose cut off; and two of her fore teeth drawn;
and her cheeks and brow scolloped. I'll spoil the indecent
brightness of her gloss!  She shall not sparkle with such
brilliance again, nor shall the men gloat, feasting their into-
lerable eyes on her, as they do at present.''
   ""Saint Duthoc buckler me!'' exclaimed the Douglas,--
""what an unnatural tyger cat it is! I have heard that such
feelings were sometimes entertained by one sovereign beauty
toward another of the same sex; but that a sprightly youth,
of an amorous complexion, with bright blushing features and
carroty locks, should so depreciate female beauty, and thirst
to deface it, surpasses any thing I have witnessed in the
nature of man. Go to, you are a perverse boy, but shall be
humoured as far as my honour and character as a captain and
warrior will admit.''
   Colin paced lightly away, making a slight and graceful
courtesy to the Douglas as he glided out. ""What an extra-
ordinary, wayward, and accomplished youth that is!'' said
the chief to himself: ""Is it not strange that I should converse
so long with a page, as if he were my equal? There is some-
thing in his manner and voice that overcomes me; and though
he teazes me beyond endurance, there is a sort of enchant-
ment about him, that I cannot give him the check. Ah me! all
who submit themselves to women, to be swayed by them or
their delegates, will find themselves crossed in every action
of importance. I am resolved that no woman shall sway me.
I can love, but have not learned to submit.''
   Colin retired to his little apartment in the pavilion; it was
close to the apartment that Douglas occupied while he
remained there, and not much longer or broader than the
beautiful and romantic inhabitant. Yet there he constantly
abode when not employed about his lord, and never mixed
or conversed with the other pages. Douglas retired down to the
tower, or King's House, as it was called (from king Edward
having occupied it,) at even tide,--but Colin Roy remained
in his apartment at the pavilion. Alas! that Douglas did not
know the value of the life he left exposed in such a place!
   On the return of Musgrave into the castle, a council of all
the gentlemen in the fortress was called, and with eager
readiness they attended in the hall of the great western
tower.  The governor related to them the heart-rending
intelligence of his mistress being in the hands of their enemies,
and of the horrid fate that awaited her, as well as his only
brother, provided the garrison stood out. Every one present
perceived that Musgrave inclined to capitulate; and, as they
all admired him, they pitied his woeful plight. But no one
ventured a remark. There they sat, a silent circle, in bitter
and obstinate rumination. Their brows were plaited down, so
as almost to cover their eyes; their under lips were bent up-
ward, and every mouth shaped like a curve, and their arms
were crossed on their breasts, while every man's right hand
instinctively rested on the hilt of his sword.
   Musgrave had taken his measures, whichever way the
tide should run. In consequence of this he appeared more
calm and collected at this meeting than he had done for
many a day. ""I do not, my friends, and soldiers, propose any
alternative,'' said he,--""I merely state to you the circumstances
in which we are placed; and according to your sentiments I
mean to conduct myself.''
   ""It is nobly said, brave captain,'' said Collingwood: ""Our
case is indeed a hard one, but not desperate. The Scots can-
not take the castle from us, and shall any one life, or any
fifty lives, induce us to yield them the triumph, and all our
skill, our bravery, and our sufferings go for nought?''
   ""We have nothing to eat,'' said Musgrave.
   ""I'll eat the one arm, and defend the draw-bridge with the
other, before the Scots shall set a foot in the castle,'' said a
young man, named Henry Clavering. ""So will I,'' said another.
""So will I; so will we all!'' echoed through the hall, while a
wild gleam of ferocity fired every haggard countence. It was
evident that the demon of animosity and revenge was now
conjured up, which to lay was not in the power of man.
   ""What then do you propose as our mode of action in this
grievous dilemma?'' said Musgrave.
   ""I, for my part, would propose decision and ample retalia-
tion.'' said Clavering. ""Do you not perceive that there has
been a great storm in the uplands last night and this morning,
and that the Tweed and Teviot are roaring like two whirl-
pools of the ocean, so that neither man nor beast can cross
them? There is no communication between the two great
divisions of the Scottish army tonight, save by that narrow
passage betwixt the moat and the river. Let us issue forth
at the deepest hour of midnight, secure that narrow neck of
land by a strong guard, while the rest proceed sword in hand
to the eastern camp, surround the pavilion of Douglas, and
take him and all his associates prisoners, and then see who is
most forward in using the rope!''
   ""It is gallantly proposed, my brave young friend,'' said
Musgrave; ""I will lead the onset myself. I do not only ween
the scheme practicable, but highly promising; and if we can
make good that narrow neck of land against our enemies on
the first alarm, I see not why we may not cut off every man
in the eastern division of their army; and haply, from the
camp and city, secure to ourselves a good supply of provisions
before the break of the day.''
   These were inducements not to be withstood, and there
was not one dissenting voice. A gloomy satisfaction rested on
every brow, and pervaded every look, taking place of dark
and hideous incertitude. Like a winter day that has threatened
a tempest from the break of the morning, but becomes at
last no longer doubtful, as the storm descends on the moun-
tain tops, so was the scene at the breaking up of that meeting
--and all was activity and preparation within the castle during
the remainder of the day.
   The evening at last came; but it was no ordinary evening.
The storm had increased in a tenfold degree. The north-west
wind roared like thunder. The sleet descended in torrents,
and was driven with an impetuosity that no living creature
could withstand. The rivers foamed from bank to brae; and
the darkness was such as if the heavens had been sealed up.
The sound of the great abbey bell, that rung for vespers, was
borne away on the tempest; so that nothing was heard, save
once or twice a solemn melancholy sound, apparently at a
great distance, as if a spirit had been moaning in the eastern
sky.
   Animal nature cowered beneath the blast. The hind left
not her den in the wood, nor broke her fast, until the dawning.
The flocks crowded together for shelter in the small hollows
of the mountains, and the cattle lowed and bellowed in the
shade.  The Scottish soldiers dozed under their plaids, or
rested on their arms within the shelter of their tents and
trenches. Even the outer sentinels, on whose vigilance all
depended, crept into some retreat or other that was next to
hand, to shield them from the violence of the storm. The
army was quite secure,--for they had the garrison so entirely
cooped up within their walls, that no attempt had been made
to sally forth for a whole month. Indeed, ever since the
English were fairly dislodged from the city, the Bushlaw,
and all the other outworks, the attempt was no more dreaded;
for the heaving up of the portcullis, and the letting down of
the draw-bridge, made such a noise as at once alarmed the
Scottish watchers, and all were instantly on the alert. Besides,
the gates and draw-bridges (for there were two gates and one
draw-bridge at each end) were so narrow, that it took a long
time for an enemy to pass in any force; and thus it proved an
easy matter to prevent them. But, that night, the storm howl-
ing in such majesty, and the constant jangling of chains and
pullies swinging to its force, with the roaring of the two
rivers over the dams, formed altogether such a hellish concert,
that fifty portcullises might have been raised, and as many
draw-bridges let down, and the prostrate shivering sentinels of
the Scottish army have distinguished no additional chord or
octave in the infernal bravura.
   At midnight the English issued forth with all possible
silence.  Two hundred, under the command of Grey and
Collingwood, were posted on the castle-green, that is, the
narrow valley between the moat and the river Tweed, to
prevent the junction of the two armies on the first alarm
being given. The rest were parted into two divisions; and,
under the command of Musgrave and Henry Clavering, went
down the side of each river so as to avoid the strongest part
of the Scottish lines, and the ramparts raised on the height.
Clavering led his division down by the side of the Teviot,
along the bottom of the great precipice, and, owing to the
mingled din of the flood and the storm, was never perceived
till fairly in the rear of the Scottish lines. Musgrave was not
so fortunate, as the main trench ran close to the Tweed. He
was obliged to force it with his first column, which he did
with a rapidity which nothing could equal. The Englishmen
threw themselves over the mound of the great trench,
hurling in above their enemies sword in hand, and over-
powering them with great ease; then over one breastwork
after another, spreading consternation before them and
carnage behind. Clavering heard nothing of this turmoil, so
intemperate was the night. He stood with impatience, his
men drawn up in order, within half a bow-shot of Douglas's
pavilion, waiting for the signal agreed on; for their whole
energy was to be bent against the tent of the commander,
in hopes, not only to capture the Douglas himself, and all
his near kinsmen, but likewise their own prisoners. At length,
among other sounds that began to swell around, Clavering
heard the welcome cry of ""Duddoe's away!'' which was
as readily answered with ""Duddoe's here!''  and at one
moment the main camp was attacked on both sides. The
flyers from the lines had spread the alarm. The captain's tent
was surrounded by a triple circle of lesser tents, all full of
armed men, who instantly grasped their weapons, and stood
on the defensive. Many rough blows were exchanged at the
first onset, and many of the first ranks of the assailants met
their death. But though those within fought with valour, they
fought without system; whereas the English had arranged
every thing previously; and each of them had a white linen
belt, of which the Scots knew nothing. and in the hurry and
terror that ensued, some parties attacked each other, and
fell by the hands of their brethren. Finding soon that the
battle raged before and behind them, they fled with precipit-
ation toward the city; but there they were waylaid by a strong
party, and many of them captured and slain. The English
would have slain every man that fell into their power, had
it not been for the hopes of taking Douglas, or some of his
near kinsmen, and by that means redeeming the precious
pledges that the Scots held, so much to their detriment, and
by which all their motions were paralyzed. Clavering, with a
part of the troops under his command, pursued the flyers
that escaped as far as the head of the Market-street, and put
the great Douglas himself into no little dismay; for he found
it next to impossible to rally his men amid the storm and
darkness, such a panic had seized them by this forthbreaking
of their enemies. Clavering would, doubtless, have rifled a
part of the city, if not totally ruined that division of the
Scottish army, had he not been suddenly called back to
oppose a more dangerous inroad behind.
   When Musgrave first broke through the right wing of the
Scottish lines, the noise and uproar spread amain, as may well
be conceived. The warders on the heights then sounded the
alarm incessantly: and a most incongrous thing it was to
hear them sounding the alarm with such vigour at their
posts, after the enemy had passed quietly by them, and at
that time were working havoc in the middle of their camp.
They knew not what was astir, but they made plenty of din
with their cowhorns, leaving those that they alarmed to find
out the cause the best way they could.
   The Scottish army that beleaguered the castle to the west-
ward caught the alarm, and rushed to the support of their
brethren and commander. The infantry being first in readiness,
were first put in motion, but, on the narrowest part of the
castle green, they fell in with the firm set phalanx of the
English, who received them on the point of their lances, and,
in a few seconds, made them give way. The English could
not however pursue, their orders being to keep by the spot
where they were, and stand firm; so that the Scots had no-
thing ado but to rally at the head of the green, and return
to the charge. Still it was with no better success than before.
The English stood their ground, and again made them reel
and retreat. But, by this time, the horsemen were got ready,
and descended to the charge at a sharp trot. They were clad
in armour, and had heavy swords by their sides, and long
spears like halberds in their hands. The English lines could not
withstand the shock given by these, for the men were famish-
ing with hunger and benumbed with cold, the wind blowing
with all its fury straight in their faces. They gave way; but
they were neither broken nor dispersed. Reduced as they
were, they were all veterans, and retreated fighting till they
came to the barriers before the draw-bridge; and there, having
the advantage of situation, they stood their ground.
   The horsemen passed on to the scene of confusion in the
camp, and came upon the rear of the English host, encumber-
ed with prisoners and spoil.
   When Clavering was called back, Douglas, who had now
rallied about one hundred and forty men around him, wheeled
about, and followed Clavering in the rear; so that the English
found themselves in the same predicament that the Scots
were in about an hour before,--beset before and behind,--and
that principally by horsemen, which placed them under a
manifest disadvantage.
   It is impossible to give any adequate idea of the uproar and
desperate affray that now ensued. The English formed on
both sides to defend themselves; but the prisoners being
numerous detained a great part of the men from the combat.
A cry arose to kill the prisoners; from whom it first issued no
one knew, but it no sooner past than the men began to put
it into execution. The order was easier to give than perform:
in half a minute every one of the guards had a prisoner at his
throat,--the battle became general,--every one being particu-
larly engaged through all the interior of the host, many of
them struggling in pairs on the earth, who to get uppermost,
and have the mastery. It was all for life, and no exertion was
withheld; but, whenever these single combats ended in close
gripes, the Scots had the mastery, their bodies being in so
much better condition. They made a great noise, both in-
dividually and in their files, but the English scarcely opened
their mouths; like bred mastiffs, when desperately engaged,
they only aimed at the vital parts of their opponents, with-
out letting their voices be heard.
   It is vain at this period to attempt giving a better descrip-
tion of the scenes of that night, for the men that were present
in the affray could give no account of it next day. But, after
a hard encounter and heavy loss, the English fought their
way up to their friends before the ramparts, who had all the
while been engaged in skirmishing with the foot of the
western division, whom they had kept at bay, and thus pre-
served the entrance clear to themselves and brethren; but
ere the rear had got over the half-moon before the bridge,
it was heaped full of slain.
   There were more of the Scots slain during the conflict of
that hideous night than of the English; but by far the greater
number of prisoners remained with the former, and several of
them were men of note; but such care was taken to conceal
rank and titles, after falling into the hands of their enemies,
that they could only be guessed at. De Gray was slain, and
Collingwood was wounded and taken; so that on taking a
muster next day, the English found themselves losers by
their heroic sally.
   They had, however, taken one prize, of which, had they
known the value, it would have proved a counterbalance for
all their losses, and all the distinguished prisoners that formerly
told against them. This was no other than the pretended
page, Colin Roy, of whose sex and quality the reader has been
formerly apprised, and whom they found concealed among
some baggage in the Douglas' tent. Grievous was that page's
plight when he found himself thrust into a vault below the
castle of Roxburgh, among forty rude soldiers, many of them
wounded, and others half-naked, and nothing given them to
subsist on. Concealment of his true sex for any length of time
was now impossible, and to divulge the secret certain ruin
to himself and the cause of Douglas.
   Next day he pleaded hard for an audience of Musgrave,
on pretence of giving him some information that deeply con-
cerned himself; and he pleaded with such eloquence that the
guards listened to him, and informed the commander, who
ordered the stripling to be brought before him. The next day
following was that appointed for the execution of Sir Richard
Musgrave. Colin informed the governor that, if he would
give him his liberty, he would procure a reprieve for his
brother, at least until the day of the Conception, during
which period something might occur that would save the
life of so brave a youth; that he was the only man on earth
who had the power to alter the purpose of Douglas in that
instance; and that he would answer with his head for the
success,--only the charm required immediate application.
   Musgrave said it was a coward's trick to preserve his own
life,--for how could he answer to him for his success when
he was at liberty? But that no chance might be lost for saving
his brother's life, he would cause him to be conducted to
Douglas under a strong guard, allow him what time he re-
quired to proffer his suit, and have him brought back to
prison till the day of the Conception was over, and if he
succeeded he should then have his liberty. This was not
exactly what Colin wanted:  However, he was obliged to
accept of the terms, and proceeded to the gate under a
guard of ten men. The Scots officer of the advanced guard
refused to let any Englishman pass, but answered with his
honour to conduct the stripling in safety to his commander,
and in two hours return him back to the English at the
draw-bridge. No more was required; and he was conducted
accordingly to the door of Douglas' tent, which, as he de-
sired, he was suffered to enter, the men keeping guard at the
door.
   In the confusion of that morning, Douglas never had missed
the page, nor knew he that he was taken prisoner; and when
the boy entered from his own little apartment, he judged
him to be in attendance as usual. He had a bundle below
his arm tied up in a lady's scarf, and a look that manifested
great hurry and alarm. The Douglas, who was busily engaged
with two knights, could not help noting his appearance, at
which he smiled.
   ""My lord,'' said the boy, ""I have an engagement of great
importance to-day, and the time is at hand. I cannot get
out at the door by reason of the crowd, who must not see
this. Will it please you to let me pass by your own private
door into the city?''
   Douglas cursed him for a troublesome imp, and forthwith
opened the door into the concealed way; and as all who came
from that door passed unquestioned, the page quickly vanish-
ed in the suburbs of the city.
   The officer and his guard waited and waited until the time
was on the point of expiring, and at last grew quite impatient,
wondering what the boy could be doing so long with the
commander. But at length, to their mortal astonishment,
they beheld the stripling coming swaggering up from the
high street of the city behind them, putting a number of new
and ridiculous airs in practice, and quite unlike one going to
be delivered up to enemies to be thrown into a dungeon, or
perhaps hanged like a dog in a day or two.
   The officer knew nothing of the concealed door and
passage, and was lost in amazement how the page should have
escaped from them all without being visible; but he wondered
still more how the elf, being once at liberty, should have
thought of coming strutting back to deliver himself up again.
   ""Where the devil have you been, master, an it be your
will?'' said the officer.
   ""Eh? What d'ye say, mun?'' said the unaccountable puppy.
""What do I say mun!'' replied the officer, quite unable to
account either for the behaviour of the prisoner or his add-
ress; ""I say I trow ye hae seen sic a man as Michael Scott
some time in your days? Ye hae gi'en me the glaiks aince by
turning invisible; but be ye deil, be ye fairy, I sal secure ye
now. Ye hae nearly gart me brik my pledge o' honour,
whilk I wadna hae done for ten sic necks as yours.''
   ""Your pledge o' honour? What's that, mun? Is that your
bit sword? Stand back out o' my gate.''
   ""Shakel my knackers,'' said the officer laughing, ""if I do
not crack thy fool's pate! What does the green-kail-worm
mean? You, sir, I suppose are presuming to transact a charac-
ter? You are playing a part in order to get off, but your
silly stratagem will fail you. Pray, my young master, what
character do you at present appear in?''
   ""Character me no characters!'' said the page,--it is not
with you that I transact--nor such as you! Do not you see
who I am, and what commission I bear? Bide a great way
back out o' my gate an ye please; and show me where I am
to deliver this.''
   ""And who is that bald epistle for, master Quipes? Please
to open your sweet mouth, and read me the inscription.''
   ""Do you not see, saucy axe-man? Cannot you spell it?
"To James, Earl of Douglas and Mar, with greeting, These.'
Herald me to your commander, nadkin; but keep your dis-
tance--due proportioned distance, if you please.''
   ""No, no, my little crab cherry; you cheated me by
escaping from the tent invisible before, but shall not do it
again. We'll get your message done for you; your time is
expired, and some more to boot, I fear; come along with
us.''--And forthwith one of their number waited on the
chief with the letter, while the rest hauled off the unfortun-
ate page, and delivered him back to the English.
                          CHAPTERIX

           His doublet was sae trim and neat,
              Wi' reid goud to the chin,
           Ye wad hae sworn, had ye been there,
              That a maiden stood within.
           The tears they trickled to his chin,
              And fell down on his knee;
           O had he wist before he kissed,
             That the boy was a fair ladye.
                                   <1Song of May Marley>1
           Who's she, this dame that comes in such a guise,
           Such face of import, and unwonted speech?
           Tell me, Cornaro. For methinks I see
           Some traits of hell about her.
                                    <1Trag. of The Prioress>1

IN this perilous situation were placed the two most beautiful
ladies of England and Scotland, at the close of that memorable
year; and in this situation stood the two chiefs with relation
to those they valued dearest in life;the one quite unconscious
of the misery that awaited him, but the other prepared to
stand the severest of trials. Success had for some time past
made a show of favouring the Scots, but she had not yet
declared herself, and matters with them soon began to look
worse. As a commencement of their misfortunes, on that very
night the battle took place, the English received a supply of
thirty horse-loads of provisions, with assurances that Sir
Thomas Musgrave, the governor of Berwick, was setting out
with a strong army to their succour.
   The supply was received in this way. There was a bridge
over the Teviot, which communicated only with the castle,
the north end of it being within the draw-bridge, and that
bridge the English kept possession of all the time of the seige.
It being of no avail to the Scots, they contented themselves
by keeping a guard at the convent of Maisondieu, to prevent
any communication between the fortress and the Border. But
the English barons to the eastward, whose castles lay con-
tiguous to the Tweed, taking advantage of the great flood,
came with a strong body of men, and attacking this post by
surprise, they beat them, and, chasing them a considerable
way up the river, got the convoy along the bridge into the
castle.
  This temporary relief raised the spirits of the English, or
rather cheered their prospects, for higher in inveterate opposi-
tion their spirits could not be raised. On the day following,
likewise, a flying party of Sir Thomas Musgrave's horse made
their appearance on the height above Hume castle, and blew
their horns, and tossed their banners abroad on the wind,
that the besieged might see them, and understand that their
friends were astir to make a diversion in their favour.
   On the same day a new gibbet was erected on the top of
the Bush-law, with a shifting wooden battery, to protect the
executioners; and all within the castle feared that the stern
and unyielding Douglas was going to put his threat respecting
the life of Sir Richard Musgrave into execution. Therefore, to
prevent their captain from seeing the scene, and, if possible,
his mind from recurring to it, they contrived to get a council
of war called, at which they intentionally argued and contend-
ed about matters of importance, in order to detain him until
the sufferings of his brother were past.
   The Bush-law, on which the Scots had a strong fortification,
rises abruptly over against the western tower of the castle of
Roxburgh; they were separated only by the moat, and, though
at a great height, were so near each other, that men could
with ease converse across, and see distinctly what was done.
On the top of this battery was the new gibbet erected, the
more to gall the English by witnessing the death of their
friends.
   At noon, the Scots, to the number of two hundred, came
in procession up from the city, with their prisoner dressed in
his knightly robes; and, as they went by, they flouted the
English that looked on from the walls,--but the latter answered
them not, either good or bad. By a circular rout to the west-
ward they reached the height, where they exposed the prisoner
to the view of the garrison on a semicircular platform, for a
few minutes, until a herald made proclamation, that unless
the keys of the castle were instantly delivered at the draw-
bridge, the life of the noble prisoner was forfeited, and the
sentence would momently be put in execution; and then he
concluded by calling, in a louder voice, ""Answer, Yes or no--
once--twice.'' He paused for the space of twenty seconds,
and then repeated slowly, and apparently with reluctance,
""Once--twice--<1thrice,''->1-and the platform folding down, the
victim was launched into eternity.
   The English returned no answer to the herald, as no
command or order had been given. In moody silence they
stood till they witnessed the fatal catastrophe, and then a
loud groan, or rather growl of abhorrence and vengeance,
burst from the troops on the wall, which was answered by the
exulting shouts of the Scots. At that fatal moment Musgrave
stepped on the battlement, to witness the last dying throes of
his loved brother. By some casualty, the day of the week and
month happening to be mentioned in the council hall, in the
midst of his confused and abstracted ideas, that brought to
his remembrance the fate with which his brother had been
threatened. Still he had hopes that it would have been post-
poned; for, as a drowning man will catch violently at floating
stubble, so had he trusted to the page's mediation. He had
examined the stripling on his return to the dungeon, but the
imp proved froward and incommunicative, attaching to him-
self an importance of which the captain could not perceive
the propriety; yet, though he had nothing to depend on the
tender mercies of Douglas, as indeed he had no right, he
nevertheless trusted to his policy for the saving of his brother
alive; knowing that, in his life, he held a bond round his
heart which it was not his interest to snap.
   As he left the hall of council, which was in the great
western tower, and in the immediate vicinity of the scene then
transacting, the murmurs of the one host and the shouts of
the other drew him to the battlement, whence his eye moment-
ly embraced the heart-rending cause of the tumult. He started,
and contracted every muscle of his whole frame, shrinking
downward, and looking madly on each hand of him. He seemed
in act to make a spring over the wall; and the soldiers around
him perceiving this, and haply misjudging the intent of his
motion, seized on him to restrain him by main force. But
scarcely did he seem to feel that he was held; he stretched
out his hands toward his brother, and uttered a loud cry of
furious despair, and then in a softer tone cried, ""Oh! my
brother! my brother!--So you would not warn me, you dog?--
Nor you?--Nor you?--No, you are all combined against me.
That was a sight to gratify you, was it not? My curse on you,
and all that have combined against the life of that matchless
youth!'' and with that he struggled to shake them from him.
""My lord! my lord!'' was all that the soldiers uttered, as they
restrained him.
   At that instant Clavering rushed on the battlement. ""Un-
hand the captain!'' cried he: ""Dare you, for the lives that are
not your own, presume to lay violent restraint on him, and
that in the full view of your enemies?''
   ""I will have vengeance, Clavering! '' cried Musgrave,--""ample
and uncontrolled vengeance! Where is the deceitful and im-
pertinent stripling that promised so solemnly to gain a reprieve
for my brother, and proffered the forfeit of his life if he
failed?''
   ""In the dungeon, my lord, fast and secure.''
   ""He is a favourite parasite of the Douglas; bring him forth
that I may see vengeance executed on him the first of them
all. I will hang every Scot in our custody; but go and bring
him the first. It is a base deceitful cub, and shall dangle
opposite to that noble and now lifeless form. It is a poor
revenge indeed,--but I will sacrifice every Scot of them. Why
don't you go and bring the gilded moth, you kennel knaves?
Know you to whom you thus scruple obedience?''
   Clavering was silent, and the soldiers durst not disobey,
though they obeyed with reluctance, knowing the advantages
that the Scots possessed over them, both in the numbers and
rank of their prisoners. They went into the vaults, and, without
ceremony or intimation of their intent, lifted the gaudy page
in their arms, and carried him to the battlement of the western
tower, from whence, sans farther ceremony, he was suspended
from a beam's end.
   Douglas could not believe the testimony of his own senses
when he saw what had occurred. Till that moment he never
knew that his page was a prisoner. Indeed, how could he
conceive he was, when he had seen him in his tent the day
after the night engagement? His grief was of a cutting and
sharp kind, but went not to the heart; for though the boy
had maintained a sort of influence over him, even more than
he could account to himself for, yet still he was teasing and
impertinent, and it was not the sort of influence he desired.
   ""I wish it been our blessed Lady's will to have averted
this,'' said he to himself; ""But the mischances of war often
light upon those least concerned in the event. Poor Colin!
thy beauty, playfulness, and flippancy of speech deserved a
better guerdon. How shall I account to my royal mistress for
the cruel fate of her favourite?'
   With all this partial regret, Douglas felt that, by the loss of
this officious page of the princess, he would be freed from
the controul of petticoat-government. He perceived that the
princess lived in concealment somewhere in the neighbour-
hood,--kept an eye over all his actions and movements,--and,
by this her agent, checked or upbraided him according to her
whimsical inexperience. Douglas was ambitious of having the
beautiful princess for his spouse,--of being son-in-law to his
sovereign,--and the first man in the realm; but he liked not to
have his counsels impeded, or his arms checked, by a froward
and romantic girl, however high her lineage or her endowments
might soar. So that, upon the whole, though he regretted the
death of Colin Roy MacAlpin, he felt like one released from
a slight bondage. Alas, noble chief! little didst thou know
of the pang that was awaiting thee!
   It will be recollected that, when the Lady Margaret first
arrived in the camp in the character of Colin her own page,
she lodged her maid in the city of Roxburgh, disguised like-
wise as a boy. With her she communicated every day, and
contrived to forward such letters to the Court as satisfied her
royal mother with regard to the motives of her absence,--
though these letters were, like many others of the sex, any
thing but the direct truth. The king was at this period living
in retirement at his castle of Logie in Athol, on pretence of
ill health.
   The name of the maiden of honour thus disguised was
Mary Kirkmichael, the daughter of a knight in the shire of
Fife. She was a lady of great beauty, and elegant address,--
shrewd, sly, and enterprising.
   Two days after the rueful catastrophe above related, word
was brought to Douglas, while engaged in his pavilion, that a
lady at the door begged earnestly to see him. ""Some petitioner
for the life of a prisoner,'' said he: ""What other lady can
have business with me? Tell her I have neither leisure nor
inclination at present to listen to the complaints and
petitions of women.''
   ""I have told her so already,'' said the knight in waiting;
""but she refuses to go away till she speak with you in private;
and says that she has something to communicate that deeply
concerns your welfare. She is veiled; but seems a beautiful,
accomplished, and courtly dame.''
   At these words the Douglas started to his feet. He had no
doubt that it was the princess, emerged from her conceal-
ment in the priory or convent, and come to make inquiries
after her favourite, and perhaps establish some other mode of
communication with himself. He laid his account with com-
plaints and upbraidings, and, upon the whole, boded no great
good from this domiciliary visit. However, he determined to
receive his royal mistress with some appearance of form; and,
in a few seconds, at a given word, squires, yeomen, and grooms,
to the amount of seventy, were arranged in due order, every-
one in his proper place; and up a lane formed of these was
the lady conducted to the captain, who received her standing
and uncovered; but, after exchanging courtesies with her,
and perceiving that it was not the princess, jealous of his
dignity, he put on his plumed bonnet, and waited with
stately mien the development of her rank and errand.
   It was Mary Kirkmichael.
   ""My noble lord,'' said she.  ""I have a word for your
private ear, and deeply doth it concern you and all this realm.''
   Douglas beckoned to his friends and attendants, who with-
drew and Ieft him alone with the dame, who began thus with
great earnestness of manner: ""My lord of Douglas, I have but
one question to ask, and, if satisfied with the answer, will
not detain you a moment. What is become of the page Colin
that attended your hand of late?'' Douglas hesitated, deeming
the lady to be some agent of the princess Margaret's. ""Where
is he?'' continued she, raising her voice, and advancing a step
nearer to the captain. ""Tell me, as you would wish your soul
to thrive. Is he well? Is he safe?''
   ""He is sped on a long journey, lady, and you may not
expect to meet him again for a season.''
   ""Sped on a long journey! Not see him again for a season!
What does this answer mean? Captain, on that youth's well-
being hang the safety, the nobility, and the honour of your
house. Say but to me he is well, and not exposed to any
danger in the message on which he is gone.''
   ""Of his well-being I have no doubt; and the message on
which he is gone is a safe one. He is under protection from all
danger, commotion, or strife.''
   ""It is well you can say so, else wo would have fallen to
your lot, to mine, and to that of our nation.''
   ""I know he was a page of court, and in the confidence of
my sovereign and adored Lady Margaret. But how could any
misfortune attending a page prove of such overwhelming
import?''
   <1""Was>1 a page of court, my lord? What do you infer by that
<1was?>1 Pray what is he now? I entreat of you to be more
explicit.''
   ""The plain truth of the matter is shortly this: The boy fell
into the hands of our enemies that night of the late fierce
engagement.
   At this the lady uttered a scream; and Douglas, dreading
she would fall into hysterics, stretched out his arms to support
her. ""I pity you, gentle maiden,'' said he, ""for I perceive you
two have been lovers.''
   She withdrew herself, shunning his profered support, and,
looking him wildly in the face, said in a passionate voice, ""In
the hands of the English? O Douglas, haste to redeem him!
Give up all the prisoners you have for that page's ransom;
and if these will not suffice, give up all the lands of Douglas
and Mar; and if all these are still judged inadequate, give up
yourself. But, by your fealty, your honour, your nobility, I
charge you, and, in the name of the Blessed Virgin, I conjure
you to lose no time in redeeming that youth.''
   Douglas could scarcely contain his gravity at this rhapsody,
weening it the frantic remonstrance of a love-sick maid; but
she, perceiving the bent and tenor of his disposition, held up
her hand as a check to his ill-timed levity. ""Unhappy chief!''

exclaimed she, ""Little art thou aware what a gulf of misery
and despair thou art suspended over, and that by a single
thread within reach of the flame, and liable every moment to
snap, and hurl thee into inevitable ruin. Know, and to thyself
alone be it known, that that page was no other than the
princess of Scotland herself; who, impelled by romantic
affection, came in that disguise to attend thee in all thy
perils, undertaken for her sake. It was she herself who seized
her rival, and placed her in your hands, thus giving you an ad-
vantage which force could not bestow. And from time to
time has she laid such injunctions on you, written and delivered
by her own hand, as she judged conductive to your honour or
advantage. If you suffer that inestimable lady to lye in
durance, or one hair of her head to fall to the ground, after
so many marks of affection and concern for you, you are
unworthy of lady's esteem, of the titles you bear, or the
honour of knighthood.''
  When the lady first came out with the fatal secret, and
mentioned the princess's name, Douglas strode hastily across
the floor of the pavilion, as if he would have run out at the
door, or rather fallen against it; but the motion was in-
voluntary; he stopped short, and again turned round to the
speaker, gazing on her as if only half comprehending what
she said. The truth of the assertion opened to him by degrees;
and, it may well be supposed, the intelligence acted upon
his mind and frame like a shock of electricity. He would fain
have disbelieved it, had he been able to lay hold of a plausible
pretext to doubt it; but every recollected circumstance co-
incided in the establishment of the unwelcome fact.  All
that he could say to the lady, as he stood like a statue gazing
her in the face, was, ""Who art thou?''
   ""I am Mary Kirkmichael of Balmedie,'' said she, ""and I
came with the princess, disguised as her attendant. I am her
friend and confidant, and we held communication every day,
till of late that my dear mistress discontinued her visits. O
captain, tell me if it is in your power to save her!''
  Douglas flung himself on a form in the corner of the tent,
and hid his face with his hand, and at the same time groaned
as if every throb would have burst his heart's casement. He
had seen his royal, his affectionate, and adored mistress
swung from the enemy's battlements, without one effort to
save her, and without a tear wetting his cheek; and his agony
of mind became so extreme that he paid no more regard to
the lady, who was still standing over him, adding the bitterest
censure to lamentation. Yet he told her not of her mistress's
melancholy fate,--he could not tell her; but the ejaculatory
words that he uttered from time to time too plainly informed
Mary Kirkmichael that the life of her royal mistress was
either in jeopardy or irretrievably lost.
   The Douglas saw the lady no more, nor regarded her. He
rushed from the tent, and gave such orders as quite confounded
his warriors, one part being quite incompatible with another;
and, in the confusion, Mary glided quietly away from the
scene without farther notice. All the motions of Douglas,
for two days subsequent to this piece of information, were
like those of a drunken man; he was enraged without cause,
and acted without consistency; but the only point towards
which all these jarring and discordant passions constantly
turned was revenge on the English--deadly and insatiable
revenge. When he looked towards the ramparts of the castle,
his dark eye would change its colour, and sink deeper under
his brow, while his brown cheeks would appear as if furrowed
across, and his teeth ground and jarred against one another.
His counsels, however, were not, at this time, of a nature
suited to accomplish any thing material against his rivals. He
meditated the most deadly retaliation, but was prevented
before he could put it in practice.
   On the following evening, when the disturbance of his
mind had somewhat subsided, and appeared to be settling
into a sullen depression of spirit, or rather a softened melan-
choly, he was accosted by a monk, who had craved and
obtained admittance--for a deference to all that these people
said or did was a leading feature of that age. Douglas scarcely
regarded him on his first entrance, and to his address only
deigned to answer by a slight motion of his head; for the
monk's whole appearance augured little beyond contempt.
He was of a diminutive stature, had a slight, starved make, and
a weak treble voice. His conversation, nevertheless, proved of
that sort that soon drew the attention of the chief.
   ""May the blessed Virgin, the mother of God, bless and
shield you, captain!''
   ""Humph!'' returned the Douglas, nodding his head.
   ""May Saint Withold be your helmet and bucklet in the day
of battle--''
   ""Amen!'' said the Douglas, interrupting him, and taking a
searching look of the tiny being that spoke, as if there were
something in the tones of his voice that struck him with
emotion.
   --""And withhold your weapon from the blood of the good,''
added the monk, ""from the breast of the professor of our
holy religion, and dispose your heart to peace and amity,
that the land may have rest, and the humble servants of the
Cross protection. Why don't you say "Amen' to this, knight?
Is your profession of Christianity a mere form? and are the
blessed tenets which it enjoins, strangers to thy turbulent
bosom?''
   ""Humph!'' said Douglas:  ""With reverence be it spoken,
monk, but you holy brethren have got a way of chattering
about things that you do not understand. Adhere to your
books and your beads. I am a soldier, and must stick by my
profession, bearing arms for my king and country.''
   ""I am a soldier too,'' rejoined the monk, ""and bear arms
and suffer in a better cause. But enough of this. I have a
strange message for you, captain. You must know that, a few
weeks ago, a beautiful youth came to our monastery seeking
supply of writing materials, which he could not otherwise
procure. He was a kind and ingenious youth. I supplied him,
for I loved him; and I have since seen him sundry times in my
cell. But last night, as I was sitting alone, a little before mid-
night--I am afraid you will not believe me, captain, for the
matter of my message is so strange--I had gone over my
breviary, and was sitting with the cross pressed to my lips,
when behold the youth entered. I arose to receive him; but
he beckoned me to keep away from his person, and glided
backward. I then recollected that he must be a spirit, else
he could not have got in; and, though I do not recollect all
that he said, the purport of his message was to the following
effect:
   "" "Benjamin,' said he, "arise and go to the captain of the
Scottish army, whom you will find in great perplexity of
mind, and meditating schemes of cruelty and retaliation,
which would be disgraceful to himself and to his country.
But let him beware; for there be some at his hand that he does
not see; and if he dare in the slightest instance disobey the
injunctions which you shall from time to time lay on him,
his sight shall be withered by a visitant from another world,
whose face he shall too well recognize ever again to find rest
under a consciousness of her presence. Monk Benjamin, I was
not what I seemed. A few days ago I was a lady in the prime
of youth and hope. I loved that captain, and was betrothed
to him. For his sake I ventured my life, and lost it without
a single effort on his part to save me. But his fate is in my
hand, and I will use the power. It is given to me to control or
further his efforts as I see meet,--to turn his sword in the day
of battle,--or to redouble the strength of his and his warriors'
arms. My behests shall be made known to him; and if he
would avoid distraction of mind, as well as utter ruin, let him
tremble to disobey. In the first place, then, you will find him
pondering on a scheme for the recovery of my lifeless body,--
a scheme of madness which cannot and may not succeed;
therefore, charge him from me to desist. You will find him
farther preparing an embassy to my father and mother to
inform them of the circumstances of my death, and that not
in the words of truth. But let him take care to keep that a
secret, as he would take care of his life and honour, for on
that depends his ultimate success. Tell him farther, from me,
to revenge my death, but not on the helpless beings that are
already in his power; to pursue with steady aim his primary
object,--and his reward shall be greater than he can conceive.'
   ""Strange as this story may appear, captain, it is strictly
according to truth. You yourself may judge whether it was a
true or lying spirit that spoke to me.''
   ""Are you not some demon or spirit yourself,'' said the
Douglas, ""who know such things as these? Tell me, are you a
thing of flesh and blood, that you can thus tell me the thoughts
and purposes of my heart?''
   ""I am a being such as yourself,'' said the monk,--""a poor
brother of the Cistertian order, and of the cloister adjoining
to this; and I only speak what I was enjoined to speak, with-
out knowing whether it is true or false. I was threatened with
trouble and dismay if I declined the commission; and I advise
you, captain, for your own peace of mind, to attend to this
warning."
   Douglas promised that he would, at least for a time; and
the monk, taking his leave, left the earl in the utmost con-
sternation. The monk's tale was so simple and unmasked,
there was no doubting the truth of it,--for without such a
communication it was impossible he could have known the
things he uttered; and the assurance that a disembodied
being should have such a power over him, though it some-
what staggered the Douglas' faith, created an unwonted
sensation within his breast--a sensation of wonder and awe;
for none of that age were exempt from the sway of an over-
powering superstition.
                          CHAPTER X

                What a brave group we have! That fellow there,
                He with the cushion, would outprate the cricket;
                The babble of the brook is not more constant,
                Or syllabled with such monotony,
                Than the eternal tingle of his tongue.

             <1Cor.>1 I'll bid him silence, master;
                Or do him so, which likes you.
                                          <1The Prioress.>1

WE must now leave the two commanders in plights more
dismal than ever commanders were before, and return to our
warden, the bold baron of Mountcomyn, whose feats form a
more pleasant and diverting subject.  His warfare all this
while was of a predatory nature,--for that his warriors were
peculiarly fitted, and at this time they did not fail to avail
themselves well of the troubles on the border, and the pre-
vailing power of the Scots alongst its line. The warden pretend-
ed still to be acting in concert with Douglas, but his operations
were all according to the purposes of his own heart. He cared
nothing for the success or the aggrandisement of Douglas;
but he had a particular eye to the advancement of his own
house, and the honour of his kinsmen. It was therefore a
matter of daily consultation with him and his friends, how
they should act in conformity with this ruling principle.
The probability was against Douglas, that he would ultimately
fail in his undertaking, and be stripped of all his dominions.
Viewing the matter in that light, it was high time for the
Redhough to be providing for himself. On the other hand,
should Douglas succeed in his enterprize, and become the
king's son-in-law, there was no other way by which the war-
den could hold his own, save by a certain species of sub-
ordination, a submission in effect, though not by acknow-
ledgment. Such matters were perfectly understood by the
chiefs in these times, and all who proved refractory were
taught in silence to feel the grounds on which they stood.
This was, therefore, a most critical period for Sir Ringan.
The future advancement of his house depended on every turn
of his hand. During all the former part of the siege he had
conducted himself with an eye to Douglas' failure, to which
he was partly incited by the prophecies of Thomas the
Rhymer, and those of his kinsman, Master Michael Scott of
Oakwood, whom he believed the most powerful wizard, and
the greatest prophet, that ever had arisen since the Rhymer's
days.
   But, on the return of Charlie of Yardbire and Dan Chisholm
from the beleaguering army, the warden got the extraordinary
intelligence, that the Lady Jane Howard had fallen into the
hands of the Douglas, as well as Musgrave's only brother.
These things changed Sir Ringan's prospects of the future
in a very material degree, and he pondered on changing his
mode of operations. Before doing so, however, he called a
council of his kinsmen, and brought the matter again before
them. Most of them counselled the continuance of the pre-
datory warfare in which they had been engaged; it had served
to enrich them, and had proved, as they reasoned, of more
service to the Douglas than if they had joined his host. That
it proved of more service to himself and his kinsmen than if
they had joined the host, the warden was well aware; but he
was not satisfied that the Douglas viewed their mountain war-
fare as of great consequence to him; and he farther knew, that
services were always repaid, not according to the toil and
exertion undergone, but according as they were estimated,
while that estimation was ever and anon modelled by the
apparent motives of the performer.
   After much slow and inanimate reasoning on the matter,
Sir Ringan chanced, after a minute's deep thought, to say,
""What would I not give to know the events that are to
happen at Roxburgh between this time and the end of the
Christmas holidays?''
   ""Auld Michael Scott will ken brawly,'' said Charlie of
Yardbire.
   ""Then, what for shoudna we ken too?'' said the knight.
   ""Aye, what for shoudna we ken too?'' said Dickie o'
Dryhope.
   ""They might get a kittle cast that meddled wi' him, an' nae
the wiser after a','' said Robert of Howpasley.
   ""When he was at pains to come a' the way to the castle of
Mountcomyn,'' said Simon Longspeare, ""a matter o' five
Scots miles ower the moor, to warn our captain, the warden,
how to row his bowls, he surely winna refuse to tell him what's
to be the final issue o' this daft contest.''
   ""Ane wad think he wadna spare a cantrip or twa,'' said
Sir Ringan; ""him that has spirits at his ca', an' canna get
them hadden i' wark. It wad be an easy matter for him;
an' blood's aye thicker than water.''
   ""Ay, that's a true tale,'' said Dickie o' Dryhope; ""It wad
be an easy matter for him, we a' ken that; an' blood's aye
thicker than water!''
   ""If I were to gang wi' a gallant retinue,'' said Sir Ringan,
""he surely wadna refuse to gie me some answer.''
   ""He wad refuse the king o' France,'' said Robert of How-
pasley, ""if he warna i' the key for human conversation, an'
maybe gar his familiar spirits carry you away, and thraw ye
into the sea, or set you down i' some faraway land, for a
piece o' employment to them, and amusement to himsel'.
He has served mony ane that gate afore now.''
   ""Od I'll defy him,'' said muckle Charlie of Yardbire. ""If
my master, the warden, likes to tak me wi' him for his
elbowman, I'll answer for him against a' the monkey spirits
that auld Michael has.''
   ""Spoke like yourself, honest Charlie!'' said the baron; ""and
if it is judged meet by my friends that I should go, you shall
be one that shall attend me. Certes, it would be of incalcul-
able benefit to me, for all your sakes, to know even by a small
hint what is to be the upshot of this business--But should I
be taken away or detained--''
   ""Ay, should he be taken away or detained, gentlemen:
think of that, gentlemen,'' said Dickie o'Dryhope.
   ""I approve highly of the mission,'' said Simon Longspeare;
""for I believe there is nothing too hard for that old wizard
to do, and no event so closely sealed up in futurity, but that
he can calculate with a good deal of certainty on the issue. I
see that our all depends on our knowledge of the event; but I
disapprove of our chief attending on the wizard in person--
for in his absence who is to be our commander? And, should
any sudden rising of our foes take place, of which we are
every hour uncertain, we may lose more by the want of him
one hour than we could ever regain.''
   ""Ay, think of that, gentlemen,'' said Dickie: ""My cousin
Longspeare speaks good sense. What could we do wanting
Sir Ringan? We're all children to him, and little better with-
out him.''
   ""And old children are the worst of all children,'' said the
warden; ""I would rather be deaved with the teething yammer
than the toothless chatter. Prithee, peace, and let us hear
out our cousin Simon's proposal.''
   The circle of the gallant kinsmen did not like ill to hear this
snub on old Dickie. They could not account for the chief's
partiality to him; and they were even afraid that, being the
oldest man, he should be nominated to the command in the
knight's absence. It was however noted by all, that Dickie
was not half so great a man in field or foray as he was at
board in the castle of Mountcomyn. Only a very few men of
experience discerned the bottom of this. The truth was, that
Sir Ringan did not care a doit either for Dickie's counsels or
his arm, but he saw that his lady abhorred him, and therefore
he would not yield to cast him off. His lady was of a high
spirit and proud unyielding temper, and the knight could
not stand his own with her at all times and seasons; but before
his kinsmen warriors he was particularly jealous of his dignity,
and would not yield to the encroachment on it of a single item.
It was by this kind of elemental opposition, if it may be so
termed, that Dickie maintained his consequence at the
warden's castle. In the field he was nothing more than a
foolish vain old kinsman.
   ""I propose,'' said Longspeare, ""that we send a deputation
of our <1notable men>1 to the warlock, of whom we have some
of the first that perhaps ever the world produced. As a bard,
or minstrel, we can send Colley Carol, a man that is fit to
charm the spirits out of the heart of the earth, or the bowels
of the cloud, without the aid of old Michael. As a man of
crabbed wit and endless absurdity, we can send the Deil's
Tam: As a true natural and moral philosopher, the Laird o' the
Peatstacknowe: As one versed in all the mysteries of religion,
and many mysteries beside, or some tell lies, we can send the
gospel friar. All these are men of spirit, and can handle the
sword and the bow either less or more. And as a man of
unequalled strength and courage, and a guard and captain
over all the rest, we can send Charlie o' Yardbire--and I will
defy all the kingdoms of Europe to send out sic another
quorum either to emperor, Turk, wizard, or the devil him-
self.''
   Everyone applauded Simon Longspeare's motion, and
declared the deputation worthy of being sent out, if it were
for nothing but its own unrivalled excellence. Never, they
said, since the mind of man was framed, was there such a
combination of rare talent in so small a circle. There was
none of those nominated for the mission present excepting
muckle Charlie Scott. Charlie scratched his head, and said:--
""Gude faith, callans, I hae a queer bike to gang wi! he-he-he!
I fear we'll get mae to laugh at us than gie us ought: The
Deil's Tam an' the metre poet! the fat gospel friar, and the
laird o' the Peatstacknowe! I never gaed out on sic a foray as
this afore, an' little do I wot how we'll come on. He-he-he!
A wheen queer chaps, faith!''
   The jocund kinsmen then shouted to Gibby Jordan of
the Peatstacknowe to come into the circle, that they might
hear what he had to say about going on this celebrated
embassy. This gentleman's name had erst been Gordon: By
some mistake, either in spelling, or falling into some foul
tub by night, for some grounded it both ways, it had been
changed on him to Jordan, and, as he had no resource, he was
obliged to admit it as legitimate. He was a man of education,
and could read, write, and cast up accounts. But his figure, fea-
tures, and the nasal twine with which he pronounced every
word that he spoke, rendered his discourse irresistibly ludicr-
ous. Every one was so ready to give Jordan the information,
that he was chosen as one to go on a deputation to Master
Michael Scott the warlock, that the laird for a long time could
not get a word said; but stood and looked about him, turning
always round his long nose to the speaker that was loudest, or
him that was poking him most forcibly to obtain attention.
   ""Gentlemen,'' said Gibby Jordan, ""you mind me of a story
that I have heard about a paddock that was lying on the plowed
land, an' by comes the harrows, an' they gangs out ower the
tap o' the poor paddock, an' every tooth gae her a tite an' a
turn ower. ""What's the matter wi' you the day, Mrs. Paddock?'
says the goodman: "Naething ava, but rather ower mony
masters this morning,' quo' the paddock; "I wish I were safe
i' my hole again, an' let them ring on.' Sae master's, I'll tak
the paddock's hint, an' wish ye a' a good morning.''
   There was no such escape for the honest laird; they
surrounded him, and insisted on hearing his sentiments at
full length, teasing him till he began to lose his temper, a
thing in which they delighted, for the more mischief the
better sport for these wild border moss-troopers. But muckle
Charlie perceiving this, came up to his side. ""Callants, I'm
appointit Gibby's guard,'' said he, ""an' his guard I'll be.
What the deil has ony o' you to say to him?''
   ""Only to hear what he thinks o' the journey,'' was repeated
on all sides.
   ""Gentlemen,'' said Gibby, ""the hale affair brings me a-mind
of a story that I hae heard about a wife that had a batch o'
chickens. But then, ye maun mind, gentlemen, she had a
very great deal o' chickens, I daresay nae fewer than a hunner,
for she had sax great cleckings; an' she was unco feared that
the gled wad tak them away; sae she wales out a wheen o'
the fattest an' the best, an' she sends them out to the cock,
that he might herd an' tak care o' them. "The cock will fleg
away the gleds,' quo she, "an' gar them keep their distance,
an' I'll get my braw birds a' saved.' But by comes the greedy
gled; an' when the cock saw him he croups an' he currs; an'
blithe to keep his ain skin hale, he staps his head in a hole,
an' the gled carried off the hale o' his bit charge. Weel, the
gled, he fand them sae fat an' sae gusty, that he never linned
till he had taen away every chicken that the wife had.''
   ""Where is the moral of that story, laird?'' cried they:
""We see no coincidence.''
   ""Because ye're blind,'' said Jordan: ""Dinna ye see that
Michael's the cock, the deil's the gled, an' ye're the birds.
He'll get us first; an' he'll find out that we're sic a wheen rare
chaps, that he'll never blin' till he hae ye ilk ane, an' that
will be the end o' your daft embassy.''
   All the rest of the nominated members being sent for
expressly from their different posts, they soon arrived,
but they seemed every one to be adverse to the mission,
except Colley the minstrel, who was elevated with the idea
of being introduced to the celebrated Master, anticipating
something highly romantic, and precisely in his own way.
As for Thomas Craik, better known by the singular appel-
lation of the Deil's Tam, he cared not much about any thing,
provided he got plenty of drink, mischief, and breaking of
heads.
   They got all that day to prepare themselves, while Sir
Ringan and his friends were considering what they should
send as a present to the illustrious necromancer. They weened
he despised riches, believing that he could turn small slates
to gold by touching them; and, after much consultation, it
was resolved to send him a captive maiden and boy, as they
had two in the camp, of exquisite loveliness. The maid was
the reputed daughter of Sir Anthony Hall, an inveterate
enemy to the baron of Mountcomyn, who had burned his
castles and plundered his lands; but the warden at length
engaging with him hand to hand at the battle of Blaikhope,
slew him, and having discomfited his army, he plundered and
harried all that pertained to him, at which time he took this
beautiful maiden prisoner, whom he treated kindly, and kept
as an handmaiden. Her name was Delany; and so lovely was
she become in person, and so amiable in her manners, that
several of the knight's kinsmen had asked her in marriage.
These applications he had uniformly put off, on pretence of
his friends degrading themselves by marrying a captive English-
woman, a term that never sounded in a Scot's ear but with
disgust. But, in fact, the warden did not choose that any of
them should be so closely connected with an old respectable
Northumberland family.
   The boy was called Elias, and was the property of Jock o'
Gilmanscleuch, having been taken by him in a night foray at
Rothbury. When the warden applied to Jock for him, bidding
him name his ransom, he answered, that if he wist ""Michael
wad either mak a warlock o' him, or tak out his harigalds to be
a sacrifice to the deil, he wadna gie him up for a' the lands o'
Newburgh an' Birkendely.'' Being pacified on these points
as well as matters would bear, the two captives were dressed
in elegant robes, and delivered to the embassy; Charlie was
deputed their captain and leader; the rest were all to be
equals, on the same footing, and to choose their own
speakers.
   After getting every direction regarding the purport of
their mission, the caution and respect which they were to use
toward the Master, and the questions they were to get answer-
ed, they departed; every one well mounted on an English horse,
the friar on his own substantial mule, and such provision
with them as they judged necessary. Carol, the bard, had a
lyre and a flute. Gibby Jordan, ycleped of the Peatstacknowe,
had nothing beside a rusty sword; the friar had an immense
wallet below him, judged to be all implements of enchant-
ment; the others had deer or goatskin wallets, stuffed with
such things as they deemed necessary; and all of them wore
arms, in case of meeting with any unknown interruption.
Several of the gallant kinsmen shed tears on taking leave of
Delany; who, contrary to what they all expected, seemed
full of gaiety, and rather fond of the change than disheart-
ened at it.
   Well, away they rode; and, as soon as they were fairly out
of sight of the army, every one began to attach himself to
Delany more closely than his neighbour. The friar talked to
her of penances, and the sins of youth, and the unlimited
confidence due to the professors of religion. The bard chanted
his wildest and most amorous ditties. Tam punned and quib-
bled on the words of the rest; and Gibby continued to narrate
his long-winded parables, sometimes to one, sometimes to
another, as he found them disposed to listen, and sometimes
to none at all. As for Charlie, he contented himself with
laughing at them all alternately, and occasionally exchanging
a word or sentiment with a valued friend of his.
   ""Corby, what's a' this cocking o' your lugs, an' casting
up o' your head for, lad? Ye're gaun the wrang road for a
battle e'en now. An let you but see the sword an' pree the
spur, ye dog, ye wad carry your master to the deil:  an'
troth, for ought he kens, ye may be carrying him born-head
to his honour just now, ye unconscionable tike that ye are.''
   Corby first laid back one ear and then the other, which
Charlie took for a kind answer; and, patting his mane, he
continued:  ""Na, na, Corby; I ken ye hae nae ill designs;
but only ye ken ye like a little mischief, an' a bit splutter
now an' than.''
   ""That minds me o' the story o' Janet Sandilands an' her
son Jock,'' said Gibby Jordan the philosopher, ""when he
raggit her hair, an' raive her bussing. "That callant sude hae
his hide threshed for lifting his hand to his mother,' said
one: "Na, na,' quo Janet, "he maunna be threshed; Jock
has nae ill in his mind, only he likes a tulzie.' She that wad
hae a close cog sude keep a hale laiggen, Yardbire; for as the
auld saying rins, ""Lippen to a Corby, an' he'll pike out your
een.''
   ""Shame fa' me gin I see the drift o' your philosophy,
Peatstacknowe; but as I'm sure it is weel meant, it sanna be
ill ta'en. Corby an' me's twa auld friends, an' we hae a great
deal to lippen to ane another. But I wish we had this unsonsy
job ower, laird--we're gaun on kittle ground.''
   ""It minds me something o' the fisher that ran away after
the Willy-an'-the-wisp,'' said Jordan: ""It's a lang story, but
it's weel wordy the hearing.''
   ""If it be a <1very>1 lang story, we might as weel crack about
something else,'' said Charlie. ""My heart's unco muckle turn-
ed on this daft job o' prying into the time that's to come, an'
on what we're to say to the warlock. Gude saif us, laird,
wha's to be the speaker? I wish that fleysome job maunna
light on you? For you see, gin we set the deil's Tam to
address him, he'll put him mad at the very first. The poet can
bring out naething but rhames o' high flown nonsense; an'
for mysel, I'm an unco plain matter-o'-fact man, an' better at
good straiks than good words. Sae that the matter maun lie
atween you an' the friar. What say you to this, Peatstacknowe?''
   ""Gude troth, Yardbire, an the task light on either of us,
it may weel bring me in mind o' the laird o' Glencarthon,
when he stack i' the midden at Saint Johnston, an' tint
himsel i' the dark entry. The laird, you see, he comes to the
door of a sowhouse, an' calls out, "Good people within
there, can you tell me the way to the Queen's hostlery?'
"Oogh?' cried the auld sow. The laird repeated his question
quite distinctly, which disturbing some o' the pigs, they
came to the back o' the door an' fell a murmuring an'
squeaking. "What do you say?' said the laird in his turn: I'll
thank you if you will not just speak so vehemently.' The
pigs went on. "Oh, I hear you speak Erse in this house,'
said the laird; "but no matter: thank you for your information,
I will try to work my way.' Now you see, Yardbire, like
draws aye to like; an' for the friar, wi' his auld warld says,
or me, to address the great Master, it wad be a reversing o'
nature an' the very order of things. I hae nae hope o' our
good success at a', an it warna for that bonnie Delany. If
he's a man, an' no just an incarnate deil, he will be delightit
wi' her.''
   ""I wish we had her safely at him, laird,'' said Charlie;
""for, troth, do ye see, thae chaps hing about her, an' look at
her as gin they wadna care to eat her.''
   ""She brings me amind o' a weelfaurd dink gimmer that
wench,'' said Jordan, ""that I aince saw gaun up Sowerhope-
burn. There was a tichel o' wallidraggle tup hoggs rinning
after her, an' plaguing her, till I was just grieved for the
poor beast. At length down there comes a wheel-horned ram,
the king o' the flock, an' he taks up his station by the side
o' the bonny thing, an' than a' the young ranigalds slinkit
away as their noses had been blooding. Then the bonny she
thing got peace, for whenever ony o' the rascallions began
to jee up his lug, an' draw near her, ae glent o' the auld
fellow's ee stoppit him short. Now, Yardbire, I trow it is
a shame to see a pretty maid jaumphed an' jurmummled in
that gate: if you will just ride close up to the tae side o' her,
I'll tak up the tither, an' we'll gar them keep a due distance.
There's nane o' them dares shoulder you aside.''
   ""I doubt, laird, there is something selfish in that plan o'
yours,'' said Charlie; ""ye hae a hankering yonder yourself,
but ye darena try to make your ain way without ye get me
to back ye. Fight dog, fight bane, Peatstacknowe; gin I be to
tulzie for a bonny may, I tulzie for my ain hand.''
   ""It wad be sae weel done to chap them back,'' said Jordan:
""See to the metre poet how he's capering an' turning up his
mou': Yon fat hypocrite, the warlock friar, is blinking out
frae aneath his sanctified eebrees like a Barbary ape: An'
there's the deil's Tam; od I think he'll hae his lang coulter
nose stappit into her lug.''
   ""Ride up, neighbour,'' quoth Charlie, ""an' tell them that
face to face. I like nae yethering ahint backs. Ane may ward
a blow at the breast, but a prod at the back's no fair. A man
wears neither ee nor armour there. Ride up, ride up, neigh-
bour, gin you winna tell them a' you have said, I'll e'en tell
them mysel.''
   ""Yardbire, I hope ye're no gaen gyte, to breed despite
amang the warden's ambassadors to the deil. Stop till I tell
you a queer joke that's come into my mind by your speaking
about armour ahint. Last year, when the dalesmen were
cried out in sic a hurry for the Durham raide, there was ane
o' Fairniehirst's troopers got strong breastplates o' steel made
to defend his heart. There was ane Brogg Paterson in Hawick,
a wag that I kenned weel, was employed to fit the harnessing
to the clothes; and learning that the raide was to be early in
the morning, an' nae leisure for shifting, an' seeing the trooper
so intent on protecting his heart, instead o' putting the steel
plates in the inside o' his doublet, Paterson fastened them in
the seat of his trews.  After passing the Tine, the Scots
encamped within a half moon of an impervious brake, and
sent out a party of foragers, among whom was this trooper
Turnbull. The party were pursued by a body of English
horse, and several of them slain; but Turnbull reaching the
brake, plunged into it, horse and man. The horse stuck fast,
and just as poor Turnbull was trying to extricate himself,
by scrambling over the horse's head, an Englishman came
riding fiercely up, and struck him such a blow with his lance
behind as would have spitted him to the neck,--but hitting
right on the steel plate, he made him fly heels-o'er-head over
the brake, and into a place of safety. A comrade perceiving,
came to assist him, and found Turnbull lying on the ground,
repeating to himself these words with the utmost devotion:--
""God bless Brogg Paterson in Hawick! God bless Brogg
Paterson in Hawick!''  ""Wherefore that?''  said the other.
""Because,'' said Turnbull, ""he kend better where my heart
lay than I did.''
   Charlie laughed so heartily at this jocular tale, that he did
not expose Gibby Jordan of the Peatstacknowe to his
associates at that time; but keeping behind with him he held
him in conversation, though he saw that his teeth were
watering to be near the fair Delany.
   They came that night to a place called Trows, on the
English side of the border, but adjoining to the very ridge of
the fells. The name of the hind who sojourned there was
Jock Robson. He had a good stock both of cows and sheep,
being so thoroughly a neutral man that both sides spared
him, and both sides trusted him. He gave a night's pass to the
driven cattle and sheep from each side, and a night's lodging
to the drivers; and for this he exacted kane sheep, or a small
cow, which none ever grudged him, because they found them-
selves so much at home in his house. He would assist either
party in catching a prey, and either party in recovering it
again, taking rewards from both; and, though both the
English and the Scots knew of this, they never trusted him
the less, for they knew that what he undertook he would
fulfil, but no farther; out of your sight, out of your pay and
out of your service with Jock Robson.
   At this yeoman's habitation our notable embassy arrived at
a late hour, for, though scarcely five o' clock afternoon, it was
pitch dark. They called at the door, and out came Jock with
a light. The first man that he beheld was the friar.
   ""Saint Mary's jerkin be about us!'' cried Jock Robson,
half in sport, half in earnest, ""and defend us from our auld
black minny's delegates. What seeks Lucky Church amang
the hills o' Cheviot, wi' her creeds an' her croons, her trum-
pery, an' her lang tythes o' sheep an' kye, wild deer, and
weathershaker, barndoor an' blackhag fowls? Nought for
Minny Church an' her bike here, Sir Monk--naething o' our
ain breeding--a' comers an' gangers, like John Nisbet's fat
sheep. Howsomever, honest bedesman, I speir ye the auld
question,

           ""Come ye as friend, or come ye as fae?
           For sic as ye bring, sic sal ye hae!''

   ""As thy friends do we come, uncourteous hind,'' said the
monk; ""and ask only a little of thy bread, and thy strong
drink, for the refreshment of our bodies, that are like the
pass on the tops of thy mountains, fading ere it be full
grown, and require as thou knowest a supply of earthly
refreshment as these do the showers of heaven; and also
we ask of thee beds whereon we may lie down and rest: and
these things thou must not refuse, for we would not that
thou shouldst be to us as the children of Amalek and Moab,
and those of Mount Seir.''
   ""Ye speak like a rational man, Sir Monk; but wait till I tell
ye the truth, that I lurde see the cross on the handle of sword
or spear ony time afore that hanging at the paunch of
priest. There's mair honour an' generosity ahint the tane
than the tither. But yet it shall never be said o' John Robson
o' the Trows that he refused a friend quarters on a dark
night. He kens ower weel that the king may come in the
beggar's way. Gin ye be joking, he can stand a joke wi' ony
man; but gin ye be really gaun to haud him as an Amale-
kite, he wad like to ken what that is, an' what lengths ye
mean to gang.''
   ""Thinkest thou that we will come into thy house to take
of thy spoil for a prey, and thy maid servants for bond-women,
and also thy little ones?'' said the friar.
   ""The deil be there then,'' cried Jock Robson. ""I wadna
grudge ye meal an' maut, but or ye lay a hand on ane o' my
lasses, or kidnap away my bits o' bairnies frae me, ye sal gang
ower my breast, an' that wi' a braid arrow through ilk ane o'
you. Be at your shift, bauld priest, here's for ye.''
   On saying so, he turned hastily about, and the friar that
moment clapping the spurs to his mule, gallopped round the
corner, leaving the rest to make good their quarters in the
best way they could. The mention of the broad arrow made
him think it was high time for him to change his ground.
   ""There rides gospel, guts an' a'.'' cried Tam Craik, laughing
aloud.
   The laugh was well known to Robson; for the warden's
troopers had been so often there that year, that almost all
of them were John Robson's personal acquaintances.
   ""What?'' cried he, turning back his head, ""Isna that the
deil's Tam that I hear?''
   ""Ay, what for shoudna it, lad? an' how dare ye fright
away our chaplain wi' your bows an' your braid arrows? Gin
we had Jock's Marion, the sow-killer's wife o' Jeddart, at ye,
wha wad be crousest then, trow ye?''
   ""Tam, it is weel kend your tongue is nae scandal; but
dinna ye lippen ower muckle to your privilege; gin ye be
come to quarter wi' me, dinna let me hear sic a hard jibe as
that the night again. Come away, however, the warden's men
are welcome, as weel they may be this year. Mony a fat mart
they hae left i' my bire. I hope ye hae brought a bonny kane
the night.''
   ""Ay, by my certie, lad, an' that we hae; here's nae less a
kane than Jock's Marion hersel.''
   ""Ye scawed like bog-stalker! skrinkit, skraeshankit skebeld!
dare ye to speak that gate to me at my ain door stane? I
shall lend you a clout 'an ye were the king's cousin, an' see
if ye dare return the compliment. Wife, bring the buet an'
my piked rung here.''
   ""Peace, in the king's name!'' cried Charlie Scott.
   ""And in the name of St. David!'' cried the friar, returning
to the charge on hearing Charlie's voice.
   ""And in my name!'' cried Tam Craik;'' an' Gibby Jordan
o' the Peatstacknowe's name; and the name o' Jock's Marion,
the sow-sticker's wife o' Jeddart. I say unto thee, look here.
Here is the kane will please a brave yeoman. Look if this
be nae Marion hersel''--and with that he led Delany's palfrey
up to the light.
   Robson lifted his eyes and saw her, and was so much struck
with her dazzling beauty, that he had not power to address
even his beloved friend Charlie Scott, far less any other of
his guests, but lifting the maiden down in his arms, he led her
in to his dame, and said to one of his lads, ""Rin out wi' a
light, callant, an' help the troopers to put up their horses.''
   The horses were soon put up, for every one seemed more
anxious than another to get first in to the cheek of Jock
Robson's ingle, and have his seat placed next to that of Delany;
but the poet being the most agile, and not the least amorous,
of the group, effected this greatly to his satisfaction.
                         CHAPTER XI


                The youngest turned him in a path,
                 And drew a buirdly brande,
                And fifteen of the foremost slewe,
              Till back the lave couthe stande.

                Then he spurred the grey unto the path,
              Till baith her sides they bledde;
                "Now, grey, if thou carry nae me away
                   My life it lies in wedde.''
                               <1Ballad of Auld Maitland>1


WE must pass over a great part of the conversation that
evening, in order to get forward to the more momentous
part of the history of our embassy. Suffice it to say, that the
poet was in high glory, and not only delivered himself in
pure iambics, but sung several love ditties, and one song of a
foray, that pleased Charlie Scott mightily. But Isaac, the
curate, has only given a fragment of it, which runs thus:

          If you will meet me on the Dirdam waste,
             Merry man mint to follow;
          I'll start you the deer, and lead you the chace,
          With a whoop, and a whoo, and a hollo!
          The deer that you'll see, has horns enow, &c.
          Marked wi' red and merled wi' blue, &c.
          And that deer he will not turn his tail
          For the stoutest hinds that range the dale.
          Come then, driver, in gear bedight;
          Come bold yeoman, and squire, and knight;
          The wind soughs loud on craig and heuch,
          And the linn rowts loud in the Crookside cleuch;
          Nor tramp of steed, nor jingle of spear,
          Will ever be heard by the southern deer:
          The streamer is out, and the moon away,
          And the morning starn will rise or day.
          Then mount to the stirrup, and scour the fell,
             Merry man mint to follow;
          And over the muir, and the dean, and the dell,
          With a whoop, and a whoo, and a hollo!
                  * * *
  ""Thy words and thy song, young man,'' said the friar, ""are
like sounding brass and a tinkling cymbal; if laid in the
balance, they are lighter than vanity.''
  ""Yours will not prove so,'' said the poet, ""Provided you
are laid in with them; for, as the old song says,--

                "His wit is but weak, father;
                His gifts they are but sma';
      But the bouk that's under his breast bane,
        It grieves me warst of a,' ''

""If thou singest this nonsense of me,'' said the friar, ""lo, I
will smite thee upon the mouth; yea, upon the cheek-bone
will I smite thee, till thine eyes shall gush out like two fount-
ains of waters.'' And so saying, he began to look about him
for some missile weapon to throw at the bard's face, his
breast burning with indignation,--for he loved not the tenor
of the poet's conversation to the maid.
Tam and Jordan encouraged the friar to make the assault,
in hopes that the poet might be dislodged or affronted; but
Yardbire restrained the warmth of the friar, not being aware
of his real sentiments, and ordered peace and good fellowship.
Dame Robson covered the hearth with a huge fire; and
her husband bringing in a leg of beef, set it upon the table,
and bade every one help himself.
""The words of thy mouth are exceeding good, and sweet
unto the ear.'' said the friar, ""as doubtless thy food is to the
taste.'' With that he rose and helped himself to three nice
and extensive slices of raw beef, and these he roasted on the
tongs which he had just lifted to smite the poet on the head.
In good truth, though every one cooked his own supper, as
was the fashion of that iron time, there was none did it half
so nicely as the friar, nor so bunglingly as Jordan, whose
supper, though long behind the others in being ready, was so
unshapely a piece, and so raw on the one side, that the
friar observed, ""it was like Ephraim of old, as a cake un-
turned.'' Some roasted their meat on old swords, some on
spindles, for their hosts took no heed how they were fitted,
or in what manner they shifted in these respects; seemingly
satisfied that they had plenty for the cooking, and leaving
them to cook it or eat it raw, as they chose. The poet made
haste, and, first of all, cooked two or three nice slices for the
maiden, giving her what she would take before he would
taste a morsel himself. Some commended him for this, and
others jeered him; but the friar, in his grave moral style, said
the severest things of all. From the very commencement of the
journey, a jealousy or misunderstanding began to subsist
between these two, which never again subsided till they came
to blows.
The poet answered him again with a song:

      ""Keep ye to your books and your beads, goodman,
      Your Ave Marias and creeds, goodman;
          For gin ye end as ye're begun,
      There will be some crack of your deeds, goodman.''
   At length the party retired to rest, all save Jordan and their
worthy host. The latter never slept in the night; he had always
some watching, walking, or work in hand that suited that
season best: and as for Gibby, he determined to sit up all
night to watch that the poet made no encroachments on the
place of Delany's repose. Robson encouraged his purpose,
joined him heartily in conversation, listened to his long-
winded stories with apparent delight, and, when all the rest
were asleep, wormed the whole business of the embassy out
of the shallow laird, who unfortunately testified his fears
that they were carrying the lovely maiden and boy to the old
warlock to be a sacrifice to the devil. Robson appeared
terribly confounded at this piece of intelligence,--for from
the time that he heard it he conversed no more with Jordan.
About one in the morning he began to put on his snow-boots,
as if preparing for a journey.
   ""Where are ye going at this time of night?'' enquired the
laird.
   ""I maun gang out an' see how the night wears,'' said
Robson; ""I hae sax score o' Scots queys that are outlyers. If
I let the king's ellwand ower the hill, I'll hae them to seek
frae the kips o' Kale.''
   Gibby accompanied him to the door, hoping the king's
ellwand would not be over the hill, for he had no good will to
part with his companion. But as soon as Robson turned his
eye to the sky, ""Ha, gude faith, I maun post away!'' said he,
""Yonder's the king's ellwand already begun to bore the hill;
ay, there's ane o' the goud knobs out o' sight already, an' I
hear the queys rowting ower the waterfa' o' the height. Gude
morrow t'ye, laird, I'm ower lang here.''
   Gibby returned in to the blazing fire; and hearing so many
persons all snoring in sleep, he caught the infection, stretched
himself upon a divot seat, and joined the chorus with as much
zeal as any of them.
   Morning came, and our embassy made ready for proceeding
on their journey; but Robson still was wanting, at which both
his dame and household lads seemed to wonder, otherwise
the rest would have taken no notice of it. Gibby told her
about the queys that were outlyers, but she only answered
him with a hem! and a slight shake of the head. Charlie, who
knew his man well, began to smell a rat; and, calling Gibby to
the door, he inquired if he had hinted ought of their business
to their host. The laird at first denied; but Charlie questioned
him till he confessed the whole, at which Charlie was ex-
ceedingly angry; and hearing that he had informed him all
about the maiden, and of what family she was sprung, he
called Gibby a worthless inconsiderate being, and said he had
ruined their expedition, for that he knew Robson kept up a
correspondence with the Halls, who were broken men, and
many of them skulking about the border; that Delany had
uncles, cousins, and a brother living, if she was the man's
daughter she was supposed to be, and that these would with-
out fail waylay them, and kill them every man, for the sake
of rescuing her. ""Robson,'' said he, ""is altogether selfish,
and has some end to serve; perhaps to get the maid into his
own hands, for he seemed mightily taken with her beauty;
and I calculate widely amiss if we are not watched from this
house, and whether we return or proceed we shall be attacked
in the first strait or lonely place that we come at.'' Jordan
looked exceedingly out of countenance, and every feature
of his face altered. ""What had I ado to tell the rascal?'' ex-
claimed he, ""or wha wad hae thought o' him playing us sic a
trick? Twa-faced dog that he is! It wad be weel done to let
his liver pree the taste o' steel!''
   Charlie made him promise that he would not mention the
circumstance to one of the party, as it was only a surmise,
and might impede their progress to no purpose; and forth-
with they mounted, armed with such armour as they had,
and all, save Gibby Jordan, as cheerful and as jealous of one
another as they were on the preceeding day. That worthy
kept close by the side of muckle Charlie, and looked so
sharp about him, that he perceived every shepherd, traveller,
and cairn that appeared on the border fells, always testifying
his alarm to his friend that perhaps yon was one of the Halls
watching.
   Charlie had resolved to go by Jedburgh straight for Oak-
wood castle; but his suspicions of Robson made him resolve
to hold more to the eastward, in order to keep the open
road. He knew that if they were watching him, it would be at
the fords of Kale or Oxnam, on the Jedburgh road; and by
taking the east path, he would not only elude them, but, in
case of a pursuit, be near the outposts of the Scottish army.
   For a good way they saw nothing, and began to think
themselves in safety;but, in coming down Sowerhope-Middle,
a little from the point of the debated land, three horsemen
appeared to the westward of them. ""His presence be about
us,'' said Gibby,--""yonder <1are>1 the Halls now!'' Charlie said
nothing, but kept watch. One of the yeomen vanished in a
twinkling at full speed, the other two came at a brisk canter
to our notable embassy.
   ""What do they mean?'' sald Jordan: ""Do these two fellows
propose to conquer us all?''
   ""It wad appear that they do,'' said Charlie, ""for they come
on us without halt or hesitation.''
   ""I hardly think they'll succeed,'' added Gibby, ""although
they're twa dangerous looking chaps. For Godsake, Yardbire,
tak care o' their back strokes; if they bring you down, our
chance will be the waur.''
   Charlie then called to the rest of his cavalcade, ""Friends,
here are some strangers come to join us. Tell them nothing
either good or bad, but keep on at a round trot. See, we are
not far from the towers of Roxburgh. Whatever these men
may say to you, make them nothing the wiser.''
   ""I will not so much as say unto them, whence cometh
thou, or whither art thou going?'' said the friar.

        ""I'll sing them a ditty of beauty and love,
       Of the wing of the raven, the eye of the dove,
          And beings all purer than angels above.''

said the Poet.
   ""Sic a rhame o' nonsense is there!'' said Tam Craik: ""If
ony o' the dogs say an impertinent thing to me I'll gar his
teeth gang down his throat like bristled beans.''
   It was not long before the two moss-troopers joined the
party. They were tall athletic men, armed at all points, and
their manner had a dash of insulting impertinence in it.
   ""A good morning, and fair pace to you, noble and worthy
gentlemen!'' said the foremost: ""May we presume to be of
the party?''
   ""You may <1presume,''>1 said the deil's Tam, ""for that is what
befits you; if you are willing to put up with the presumer's
reward.''
   ""You are witty, sir, I suppose,'' said the trooper; ""and pray
what may that reward be?''
   ""Yes, I am witty,'' said Tam; ""and my wit is sharp when
it is not in its sheath. Do you understand me? As for the
reward of presumption, it is in Scotland to be crankit before
and kicked behind.''
   ""The road is at least as free to us as it is to you,'' said the
mosstrooper; ""and of that we intend to avail ourselves for the
present. We go to join the army before Roxburgh, whither are
you bound?''
   ""We follow our noses,'' said Tam; ""but they guide us not
to the army before Roxburgh, and into your rearward they
caution us not to enter. Raw hides and rank bacon, keep
your distance.''
   While Tam Craik and the trooper were thus jangling on
before, Charlie said to Jordan, ""Laird, what do you think o'
yoursel' now? Ye hae played us a fine pliskie wi' your ill-
tackit tongue! It is my thought that ere we ride a mile and a
half we'll be attacked by a hale troop o' horse. That chap
that disna speak is ane o' the wale o' the Ha's: I ken him weel
for a' his half visor. The other horseman that left them on the
height is ower to the fords of Kale, and, if I guess right, he'll
appear at yon scroggy bush wi' sae mony at his back that we
wad hardly be a mouthfu' to them, an' that in less time than
ane wad gang a mile.''
   ""It is an ill business this,'' said Gibby: ""It brings me in
mind o'--o' mair than I's name. But, gudesake, Yardbire, an
ye be sure he is ane o' the Halls, what for do nae ye rin your
sword in at the tae side o' him an' out at the tither? The
sooner a knave like that is put down the better.''
   ""Fair occasion, an' face to face, Peatstacknowe, an' ye
sanna see Charlie Scott slack; but ye wadna hae me stick a
man, or cleave him down ahint his back, an' that without
fair warning and fair arming?''
   ""Ay, honour an' generosity are braw things, but life's a
brawer thing an' a better thing than ony o' the twa. For my
part, I wad never stop. My very heart flighters when I look at
him, an' I amaist think I find his steel quivering at my midriff.
I wish I had a drive at him, wi' a chance o' a hale head.''--And
from that time Gibby leaned himself forward on his saddle,
and fixed his large grey eyes on the mosstrooper like a pointer
going to fly on his game; and, in that attitude, he rode several
times close up to his side, or very nearly opposite to him,
laying his hand now and then on his hilt;but Charlie observed
that he never looked his foe in the face with threatening
aspect, and, perplexed as he was, could not help laughing at
Gibby.
   Yardbire now putting the spurs to Corby, galloped aslant
the brae to a rising ground, whence he could see if any enemy
was approaching by the swire from the fords of Kale, as he
suspected. He had not well gained the height before he saw
a dozen horsemen coming at the light gallop, but one part of
the cavalcade considerably behind the others, owing to their
being either worse mounted or worse horsemen.
   By this time Charlie's own friends were coming round the
bottom of the hill below him, quarrelling with the strangers
so loudly, that Charlie heard their voices ascending on the
gale in most discordant notes. The deil's Tam and the English
trooper had never since their meeting ceased the jibe and the
keen retort; but Tam's words were so provokingly severe, that
the mossman was driven beyond all further forbearance. Just
when they were at the hottest, the helmets of the front men
of the Northumberland cavalcade began to appear in the
swire; a circumstance that was well noted by their offended
kinsman, but of which Tam was perfectly unconscious.
   ""Well, now, thou jaundiced looking thief,'' said the moss-
trooper, turning his horse's head towards Tam's left hand, and
making him amble and curvette with his side foremost; ""thou
lean, nerveless, and soul-less jabberer, all tongue and nothing
else--I say, what hast thou to say more?''
   The alteration in the man's key of voice somewhat as-
tounded Tam; but his perverse nature would not let him
soften his reply, although he liked as well to see others fall
into a mischief as himself. ""Eh? what do I say?'' said he; and
with that he turned his horse's head to that of the other,
making their two noses to meet; and caricaturing the English-
man's capers, he laughed sneeringly and triumphantly in his
face. ""What do I say? Eh? what do I say? I say I thought I
heard wind, and smelled it a wee too. Hagg-hiding fox that
thou art! Wild tike of the moors, dost thou think Tam Craik
fears thy prancing and thy carrion breath, or ony o' the bur-
throated litter of which thou art the outwale? Nay, an
capering and prancing show ought of a spirit, I can caper and
prance as well as thou. Out on thee, thou bog-thumper, thou
base-born heather-blooter, what do <1you>1 say? Or what <1dare>1
you say?''
   Tam had by this time drawn his sword completely to cow
the Englishman, and put him to silence;--but he saw what
Tam did not see, and knew more than he.
   ""I dare both say and do, and that thou shalt find,'' said
the trooper; and forthwith he attacked Tam with all his
prowess, who, not quite expecting such a thing gave way, and
had very nearly been unhorsed; he, however, fought stoutly,
defending himself, though manifestly at the disadvantage. The
brave friar, at the first clash of the swords, wheeled about
his mule, and drawing out a good sword from under his
frock, (for he wore the sword on the one side and the cross
on the other,) he stretched it forth, pointing it as if to thrust
it between them. But, addressing himself to the Englishman,
he cried with a loud voice, ""Put up <1thy>1 sword again into its
place, or verily I will smite thee with the edge of <1my>1 sword.''
   The other Englishman, who had never yet opened his
mouth, and who had always kept apart, as if anxious to
conceal who he was, now rode briskly up to the fray; and
perceiving the quick approach of his friends, and judging his
party quite secure of victory, he struck up the friar's sword
in apparent derision. But the inveterate laird of the Peat-
stacknowe had been watching him all this time, as one colley
dog watches another of which he is afraid, in order to take
him at an advantage, and the moment that his arm was
stretched, so that his sword came in contact with the friar's,
Gibby struck him behind, and that with such violence that the
sword ran through his body. The wounded trooper reined up
his steed furiously, in order to turn on his adversary; Gibby
reined his up as quickly to make his escape, but the convul-
sive force of the Englishman threw his horse over, and in its
fall it tumbled against the legs of Gibby's horse with such
force that it struck them all four from under him, and both he
and his rider fell in a reverse direction, rolling plump over
the wounded warrior and his forlorn encumbered steed, that
was pawing the air at a furious rate. The two horses falling
thus on different sides, their iron-shod hoofs were intermixed,
and clashing and rattling away in a tremendous manner, tre-
mendous at least to poor Gibby, whose leg and thigh being
below his charger, he was unable to extricate himself. ""Happ,
Davie, happ!'' cried he to the steed: ""Up you stupid, awkward
floundering thief! Happ, Davie, happ!'' Davie could neither
happ nor weynd, but there he lay groaning and kicking
above his master, who was in a most deplorable plight.
   Charlie perceiving the commencement of the fray, was all
this while galloping furiously toward the combatants. But
the battle was of short duration; for the English trooper, seeing
his comrade fall he wist not how, and the friar and Tam
having both their swords pointed at him, broke furiously
through between them and fled towards his companions,
Tam being only enabled to inflict a deep wound on the hinder
part of the horse as he passed by.
   ""I have made him to pass away as the stubble that is
driven by the whirlwind,'' said the friar; ""yea, as the chaff
before the great wind, so is he fled from the arm of the mighty.
Brother, I say unto thee, that thou hadst better arise!''
continued he, looking upon the disconsolate Jordan; and
passing by on the other side with great <1sang froid,>1 he rode
up to Delany, the boy Elias, and the poet, the latter of
whom had not been engaged, but, drawing his sword man-
fully, had stood as a guard to the other two.
   Tam Craik pursued his enemy, although apparently not
with a fixed design of overtaking him; and Gibby, being thus
left all alone with the two inverted horses and the incensed
moss-trooper, extended his voice to an amazing pitch, for he
knew not what state of health and strength his opponent re-
tained.  This was a horrid consideration; for if he should
disengage himself and get up first, there was an end of him
of the Peatstacknowe. His nasal twine was increased by his
dread, and he cried so vehemently, that his cries grew like
the cries of a peacock.
   Charlie Scott rode up to the main group, who continued
to advance at a quiet pace, for they knew nothing as yet of
the approaching danger. He also called and made signs to
Tam Craik to return; and as soon as he came up to them he
pointed out their pursuers, and charged them to ride for
their lives. ""We are betrayed,'' said he; but the horses of our
enemies are jaded, ours are fresh; therefore, brave lads, in our
master's name, spare neither spur, nor horse-flesh. Haud on
your way, an' never look ower your shoulders: you will find
Corby an' me twa gude back friends.''
   The friar bent himself forward over the mane of his mule,
and opening his eyes wide abroad, he put the spurs to his
steed, and set off ""with the swiftness of the roebuck or the
hart,'' as he termed it.
   The boy pursued hard after him; and the bard, taking hold
of Delany's bridle by both reins below the neck, for fear her
steed should stumble and throw his lovely rider, bade her
whip on and fear nothing, and in this friendly guise they
also made good speed. Charlie then galloped back to see if any
life remained in his friend Gibby,--for he only saw him at a
distance go down in the encounter, without being exactly
versed in the circumstances of his overthrow; but he thought
he heard one loud squeak arise from the field after the rest
had left it, something like that sent forth by the small drone
of the bagpipe; and, guessing that the laird was yet alive, he
galloped back to see. By the way he met the deil's Tam, who
returned with him, and when they came in view of the spot
where the two prostrate heroes had been left, they saw a very
curious scene, the more curious because it was transacted by
our worthy laird in the presiding belief that he was not seen,
for he was too much concerned in his own affairs to perceive
the approach of his friends. The Englishman's horse making
an exertion, by pressing his feet against the ribs of the laird's
Davie, by that means pushed himself forward, and Gibby
perceived plainly that his enemy was to be first released. The
struggles that Gibby then made were enormous. ""Happ, Davie,
happ!'' cried he: O mother of God, what shall become of me!
Happ, Davie, happ, my man; happ, happ, happ!'' and, as a
last resource, he reared up his body and struck at the English-
man's limb that was above his horse, crying out to Davie to
happ, in bitterness of soul. Davie was not long; for the next
moment after the Englishman's horse rose, he got up also, his
feet then getting to the ground; but the stirrup that had been
under him was crushed together, and there his master's foot
remained fixed. Gibby was worse than ever. ""Wo, Davie, wo!
Tproo, ye thief!'' cried he. Davie, finding the weight at his
side, wheeled about, and dragged the unfortunate laird round
across the breast of the trooper Hall, who seized him by the
neck. ""Was there ever a man guidit this gate!'' cried Gibby.
""Honest man, an ye please, let gae; it wasna me that hurt ye.''
The man answered him not; but Davie being scared by the
struggle sprung aside, and the Englishman keeping his hold,
Gilbert's foot was released by the loss of his boot. He was
not long in making a bold effort to rise, and though Hall
hung by his neck a little, it had been in the last agony of
receding life that he had seized him, and he dropped dead on
the green, having both fists clenched on his breast, in the act
of still holding his rival.
   When Gibby saw how matters stood, he began to value
himself on his courage. ""I's gar ye! I's gar ye!'' cried he, lifting
up his sword, and giving the dead man several desperate
gashes, and always between every stroke repeating, ""H'm!
I's gar ye!'' His two friends being now hard beside him, the
sound of their horses' feet made him start; but lifting his eye,
and perceiving who they were, he again repeated his blows, and
continued his threats in a louder key.--""H'm! I's gar ye! I's
gar ye, billy! I's learn you to throttle me!''
   ""Fy, lay on, laird!'' cried Tam; ""dinna ye see that the
man's no half dead yet?''
   ""I think I hae done for him;'' said Gibby: ""He brings me
a-mind o' a wife that had to kill her cat thrice ower. I's
learn the best o' the haggies-headed Ha's to meddle wi' me!''
   ""I think he'll do that ane, however, Gibby; if he had e'en
the nine lives o' the wife's cat,'' said Charlie: ""therefore, an
ye please, put up your sword, an' mount your horse. It's no a
time now to examine whether ye hae behaved in a sodger-like
manner wi' that bold trooper. If I wist ye had not, it should
be the last hour I should ride in your company--but mount
quick an' ride; for see whar the rest o' the Ha's are coming
across us. Ilk horse an' man do what he can, or dear will be
our raide, an' yours, friend, the dearest of a'.''
   One look filled Gilbert's eye. He mounted Davie, with the
one boot off and the other on, and there was little occasion
to bid him ride. Before they turned the corner of the hill,
their pursuers came so close on them, that they looked very
like cutting off their retreat; but a bog, around which the
English were forced to cast a wide circuit, saved our three
heroes, and gave them the start, by fully a half mile, of their
foes, who still came in a straggling way as their horses could
keep up. After a hard chace of two Scottish miles they came
up with the friar, whose mule being too heavy loaden had
begun to fag. When he saw them gaining on him so hard, he
judged that all was over with him, and spurred on his jaded
beast in vain. ""O that my flesh were as my armour or my
clothing,'' cried he, ""that I might put it off at will, and escape
from the face of mine enemies, Lo! I shall be left all alone,
and surrounded and taken and slain.'' As he divined, so it
fell out; the others were soon by him, and he was left the
hindermost. Then they heard him lamenting to himself in his
own sublime eastern stile, that he had not the wings of the
eagle or the dove, that he might bear away to the mountains
and the cliffs of the rocky hills, to elude the dreadful weapons
of death, so often reared over his head, and so often warded
by the arm of heaven.
   ""Poor devil!'' said muckle Charlie, the tear standing in his
eye: ""Od I canna leave him after a'. Come what will, I for ane
shall stand or fa' wi' him. I whiles think there's mair in that
body than we moorland men wot of,--I canna leave him to be
cut in pieces.''
   ""O fy, let him tak his chance,'' said Tam; ""let him bide his
weird; he deserves it a'. What signifies the creature? He's just
a thing made up o' hypocritical rant, empty words, and
stuffed paunches. Let him bide the buffet that fa's to his
share.''
   ""Ay, what signifies sic a corpulation?'' said Jordan. ""It
will be lang or <1he>1 bring down man an' horse in an encounter.
He brings me in mind o' a capon that claps his wings, but
craws nane. Let him tak his chance.''
   ""Na, but callans, troth my heart winna let me,'' said
Charlie: ""For his good deeds, or his ill anes he's answerable
to heaven, an' neither to you nor me. But he's a fellow
creature, an' has nane to look to for help but us at this time.
Life's sweet to us a', an' it's unco hard to leave our master's
bedesman just to be sacrificed. Therefore, come what will,
I'll turn an' lend the friar a hand. As for you twa, ride on; the
young couple that are committed to our charge may escape.''
With that he wheeled Corby's head about, and rode back to
meet the gospel friar.
   When he met him, the foremost of the riders had advanced
within a bow shot, and was fast gaining ground. The friar
still continued to spur on, and though his mule likewise
continued the motion of one that gallops, the progress that
he made was hardly discernible. He had a sort of up and down
hobble that was right laughable to behold in one riding for his
life. When he saw the dauntless Yardbire return to meet him,
with his large seven feet sword drawn, and heaved over his
right shoulder, he lifted up his voice and wept, and he said
unto him;--""Blessed be thou, my son! The blessing of a man
ready to perish light upon thee! And now, lo, I will draw
forth my sword and return with thee to the charge, and thou
shalt see what a poor bedesman can do.''
   ""It is brawly said, good friar,--but gin ye wad save yoursel'
an' me, ride. An we could but mak the end o' the Thief-gate,
they should buy our twa lives dear. If thou wilt but exert
man an' beast, father, you an' I shall fight, flee, or fa' the-
gither. But see, we are already overtaken, and in the enemy's
hands.''
   The foremost of the riders was now hard behind them;
but, perceiving Charlie, he reined up his horse and looked
back for his comrades. The friar gave a glance back, and he
said, ""Lo, thou art a mighty man of valour, and behold there
is but one; do thou fall upon him and smite him; why should
one pursue two?''
   ""I hae heard waur advices frae mair warlike men,'' said
Charlie; ""Ride ye on, father, an' lose nae time. Gude faith! I
sal gie this ane his breakfast.''
   Charlie as he said this put the spurs to Corby, and rode
full speed against the pursuer. The trooper set himself firm
in his stirrups and assumed his defence, for he saw from the
prowess of Corby that it was vain to fly. just as Charlie's
mighty sword was descending on his casque, a check that he
gave his horse in the hurry of the moment made him rear on
end, and Charlie's stroke coming down between his ears, clove
his head almost into two halves. The horse reeled and fell; but
how it fared with his rider, Charlie never knew; for before he
got his horse turned, there were other three of the Halls close
at hand. Charlie fled amain. He was nothing afraid of himself,
for he knew Corby could outstrip them by one half of the
way; but his heart bled for the poor friar, whom he saw he
would either be obliged to leave, or fight for him against
such odds as it would be madness to withstand. The friar
had, however gained the height, and having now a long
sloping descent all the way to the Thief-gate-end, he was
posting on at an improved pace. Charlie had one sole hope
remaining of saving the friar, and that was the gaining the
above-mentioned point before they were overtaken.  The
warriors carried no whips in those days, depending altogether
on the ample spur,--therefore Charlie, as a last resource, pulled
down a large branch from a hazel tree, and attacked the
hinder parts of the father's mule with such a torrent of high-
sounding strokes, that the animal, perhaps more sullen than
exhausted, seemed to recover new life and vigour, and fled
from the assault like a deer, in the utmost terror and dismay.
Little wonder was it! He heard the sound of every descending
stroke coming on like the gathering tempest; and, clapping
his tail close down between his hips, pricking up his long ears,
and looking back first with the one eye and then with the
other, he went at such a rate that Corby could do little more
than keep up with him.
   ""My swiftness is greater than I can bear,'' cried the friar,
pronouncing the sentence all in syllables for want of breath;
""verily I shall fall among the cliffs of the rocks by the side of
the highway.''
   His danger increased with his fears; for the mule perceiving
that exertion availed not, and that there was no escaping
from the fierceness of his pursuer's wrath, began to throw up
his heels violently at every stroke, nevertheless continuing to
exert himself between these evolutions. The friar's riding-
gear began to get into disorder, and with great difficulty he
retained his seat; therefore he cried out with a loud voice, ""I
pray of thee, my son, to desist, for it is better for me to
perish by an enemy's hand than thine; seest thou not my
confusion and despair--verily I shall be dashed in pieces
against the stones.''
   The friar saw nought of Charlie's intent, else he would not
have besought him so earnestly to desist. The Thief-gate-end
was now hard at hand. It is still well known as a long narrow
path alongst the verge of a precipice, and all the bank above
it was then a thicket of brushwood and gorse, so close that
the wild beast of the desart could not pass through it. It was,
moreover, shagged with rocks, and bedded with small stones,
and the path itself was so narrow, that two horsemen could
scarcely ride abreast. By such a strenuous manoeuvre on the
parts of Charlie and the mule, the two flyers got into this
path, without having lost any ground of their pursuers. When
Charlie saw this, he began to breathe more freely, and, flinging
away his hazel branch, he again seized his mighty weapon in
his right hand.
   ""Let the chields come as close on us now, an they dare,''
said he.
   The mule still continued to eye him with a great deal of
jealousy, and, perceiving the brandish that he gave his long
sword when he said this, he set off again full speed; so that it
was a good while before the friar got time to reply. As soon
as he got leisure to speak, he opened his mouth and said,--""My
son, wilt thou lift up thine arm against a multitude? or canst
thou contend with the torrent of the mighty waters?''
   ""Well, well, they may perhaps lead that winna drive,'' said
Charlie; and he went by the friar at a light gallop, leaving
him behind, who prayed to the other not to leave him nor
forsake him; but it was a device of Yardbire's, and a well
conceived one. He saw that as long as he kept the rear guard,
and rode behind the friar, the men that pursued them would
not separate on that long narrow path; therefore he vanished
among the bushes, keeping, however, always within hearing
of the mule's feet. Accordingly, at the first turn of the road,
the foremost of the English troopers, seeing the jolly bedes-
man posting away by himself, put the spurs to his steed, and
made a furious dash at him. The friar cried out with a loud
voice; and, seeing that he would be overtaken, he turned
round and drew his sword to stand on the defensive; and
actually not only bore the first charge of his opponent with
considerable firmness, but had ""very nigh smitten him bet-
ween the joints of the harness,'' as he termed it. It happened,
moreover, very singularly, from the perversity of the mule,
that in the charge the combatants changed sides, at the
imminent peril of the Englishman; for the mule brushed by
his horse with such violence, and leaned so sore to the one
side, that both the horse and his rider were within an inch of
the verge of the precipice.
   The friar had no sooner made his way by, than he saw
another rider coming like lightning to meet him in the face;
but at the same time he heard the voice of Charlie Scott
behind him, and the rending crash of his weapon. This cheered
the drooping spirits of the brave friar, who had been on the
very point of crying for quarter. ""They beset me before and
behind,'' cried he, ""yet shall my hand be avenged. Come on,
thou froward and perverse one.'' So saying he assumed his
guard, and met his foe face to face, seeing he had no alter-
native. The Englishman drew a stroke, but got not time to
lay it on; for just as the mule and his tall horse met, the
former, in the bitterness of his ire, rushed between his
opponent and the upper bank, and pressed against his fore
counters with such energy, that he made the leg next him to
slacken, and the horse reared from the other. The intention
of the irritated mule was to crush his master's leg, or, if
possible, to rub him from off his back; and therefore, in
spite of the rein he closed with the Englishman's tall steed in
a moment, and almost as swift as lightning. The English moss-
trooper had raised his arm to strike, but seeing his horse
shoved and rearing in that perilous place, he seized the rein
with his sword hand. The mule finding the substance to
which he leaned give way, pressed to it the harder. It was all
one to him whether it had been a tree, a horse, or a rock; he
shouldered against it with his side foremost so strenuously,
that in spite of all the trooper could do, the fore feet of his
horse on rearing, alighted within the verge of the precipice.
The noble animal made a spring from his hinder legs, in
order to leap by the obstreperous mongrel; but the latter still
coming the closer, instead of springing by he leaped into the
open void, aiming at the branches of an oak that grew in a
horizontal direction from the cliff. It was an old and stubborn
tree, the child of a thousand years; and when the horse and his
rider fell upon its hoary branches,it yielded far to the weight.
But its roots being entwined in the rifted rock as far as the
stomach of the mountain, it sprung upward again with a
prodigious force to regain its primitive position, and tossed
the intruding weight afar into the unfathomed deep. Horse
and rider went down in a rolling motion till they lessened to
the eye, and fell on the rocks and water below with such a
shock, that the clash sounded among the echoes of the linn
like the first burst of the artillery of heaven, or the roar of an
earthquake from the depths of the earth.
   Charlie Scott gazed on the scene with horror; every
feature of his countenance was changed, and every hair on
his great burly head stood on end. He gave a look to heaven,
crossed himself, and said a short prayer, if a prayer it may be
called that consisted only of four syllables. It consisted
merely in the pronunciation of a name, too sacred to be set
down in an idle tale; but he pronounced it with an emphasis
that made it doubly affecting. The friar, on the contrary,
astonished at his own prowess, or rather at that of his mule,
beheld the scene with wonder, it is true, but also with a shade
of ostentation. ""I have overthrown the horse and his rider,''
said he, ""and they are sunk down as a stone into the mighty
waters.'' Corby manifested the fright that he was in, by loud
and reiterated snortings; the mule also was astonied, and,
that he might witness the horrific scene in more perfection,
he kept his tail close to the precipice, and looked back.
   ""Now, by my honour as a man and a warrior, father,'' said
Charlie, ""you are a man amang ten thousand. I never knew
of a bedesman who behaved so gallantly, nor have I seen a
knight behave better. How durst you close so instantaneously
and furiously with both these valiant troopers?''
   ""Thou hadst better put that question to my mule,'' said
the friar,--"for it is a truth that he hath that in him that is
the ruin of many people, viz. obstinacy of heart. When he
smelleth the battle he disdaineth all parley or courtesy, as thou
beholdest, but rusheth upon his adversary like one of the
bulls of Bashan.''
   At that moment the friar's eye caught a glance of several
horsemen close upon them, but as they could only come one
man rank, they paused at seeing their enemies in quiet
possession of the way, and standing in peaceful colloquy,
apparently about something else.
   ""By the life of Pharaoh,'' said the friar, gazing all around,
""I had forgot the man whom I first engaged and smote as he
passed by.''
   ""You will see nae mair o' him, father,'' said Charlie; ""I gae
him a deadly wound, but the saddle was locked to the horse,
and the man to the saddle, and the furious animal has
escaped away to the forest with the dead man on its back.''
   ""Thou art indeed a man of valour,'' said the friar; ""and here
will we keep our ground. I will do more in our defence than
thou hast yet witnessed; therefore, be not afraid, my son, for
that sword of thine is a good sword.''
   ""It is a good sword at a straik,'' returned Charlie; ""but it's no
very handy at making a defence. But an I get the first yerk of a
chield, I'm no unco feared for his return. However, father,
this sword, sic as it is, shall be raised in your defence as lang
as my arm can wag it. I like the man that will stand a brush
when a pinch comes,--see, thae chaps darena come on us.
But, ill luck to the coward! gin they winna come to us, we'll
gang to them.''
   ""I will certainly go with thee,'' said the friar; ""but I know
the nature of the beast that I bestride, and that it will at the
first onset bear me into the thickest of the battle; therefore, be
not thou far from me in my need, for, though nothing afraid,
yet I know it will carry me into peril. Come, let us go and
smite these men with the edge of the sword.''
   ""Gallant friar,'' said Charlie, ""the Thief-road is lang an'
narrow, an' there's hardly a bit o't that they can come on us
twa in a breast; stand ye still; or be chopping on your way, an'
I'll let you see yon lads get a surprise for aince.''
   ""Nay, I will certainly stand with thee in battle,'' said the
friar; ""thinkest thou I will stand and be a looker on, when my
preserver is in jeopardy? Lo, my heart is as thy heart, my arm
as thy arm, and--but I cannot say my horse is as thy horse,
for the beast is indeed froward in his ways, and perverse in all
his doings.
   Charlie hardly smiled at the phrase of the worthy friar,--
for he meditated an attack on their pursuers, and his eye
kindled with his heart toward the battle. He heaved up his
sword-arm twice at its full stretch, to feel if it was nowise
encumbered in the armour, and putting Corby in motion,
he rode deliberately up to the face of his enemies. The foremost
man spoke to him, demanding what he wanted; but he only
answered by heaving his sword a little higher, and making his
horse mend his pace. In one second after that he was en-
gaged with the first man, and in two seconds the horse and
his rider had fallen in the middle of the path. Charlie listed
not coming to close quarter; his sword was so long and heavy,
that it was quite unhandy in warding the blows of a short and
light weapon. His aim, therefore, was always to get the
first stroke, which was as apt to light on the horse as the
man, and thus down both of them went. Springing by the
prostrate warrior, he attacked the second and the third in the
same manner, and with the same success, always either cutting
down the trooper or cleaving the head of his horse at the
first stroke. The path was now in the utmost confusion.
Owing to the pause that had taken place, all the riders had
come up and crowded each other behind, some crying, ""He is
a devil!'' and others at a greater distance shouting out, ""Down
with the Scot! down with him!'' Charlie regarded not their
cries, but laid about him with all his might, till, after striking
down three of the foremost and one horse, those next to him
were glad to turn in order to effect their escape; but the
hindermost on the path refusing for a while to give way, many
of their friends fell a sacrifice to Charlie's wrath. He pursued
them for a space, and might have cut them off every man,
had he been sure that all was safe behind,--but he had rushed
by some wounded men and wounded horses, and knew not
how matters stood with the friar.
   As he dreaded, so it fell out. Two of the Englishmen who
had fallen perhaps under their horses, had scrambled up the
bosky precipice, and, as he returned, assailed him with large
stones, a mode of attack against which he was unable to make
the least resistance. Therefore, it was at the utmost peril of
his life that he made his way back through the encumbered
path to his friend the friar. This latter worthy had found it
impossible to lend his friend any assistance. The beast that
he bestrode was fonder of rubbing shoulders with a living
brute, than a mangled or dead one; so he refused to come
nearer the first that fell than about twice his own length,
where he stood firm, turning his tail to the scene of battle,
and looking back. Our two heroes now set off at full speed
after the rest of their party, whom they expected to overtake
before reaching the outposts of the beleaguering army.
                         CHAPTER XII


   <1Lord Duffus:>1 I saw the appearance of a mounted warrior.
                  Whence did it come, or whither did it go?
                  Or whom did it seek here?
                     Hush thee, my lord;
                  The apparition spoke not, but passed on,
                  'Tis something dreadful; and, I fear me much,
                  Betokens evil to this fair array.
                                     <1Trag. of the Prioress>1


THE rest of our cavalcade continued to advance at a quick
pace, not without anxiety. They were not afraid of their
enemies coming behind them, for they had strong faith in
the prowess of their friend, as well as his horse Corby. But
when they came to the end of the narrow path, called the
Thief-gate, there were two roads, and they knew not which
of these to follow. As bad luck would have it, they took the
most easterly, which led towards Yetholm, and left the
Scottish army to the westward. In that path they continued
to jog on, turning many a long look behind them for the
approach of Charlie; and, at one time, they thought they
got a view of him coming at a furious pace all alone; but
the rider being at a great space behind them, he was shortly
hid from their view in an intervening hollow, and it was long
before they saw him any more. They judged that the friar
was taken or slain, and began to talk of his loss in a very indif-
ferent manner.
  ""Alas, how frigid and ungenial must be the hearts of you
men in Scotland,'' said Delany. ""Now, of all the men I have
met with since I was brought from my own country, there is
only one whose death I would more regret than that of the
worthy and kind friar. He may have his whims and his
peculiarities, but his manner is pleasing, and his speech has
a strain of grandeur which I love. Where did he acquire that
speech?''
  ""He gets it frae some auld-fashioned beuk,'' said Tam,
""that he has pored on a' his days, an' translatit out o' other
tongues, till he was nearly hanged for it; and it's weel kend
that he is now in hiding wi' our warden for fear o' his life,
and has been these half dozen o' years; and though he pre-
tends to be only a friar, he was aince a monk o' the first order
of St. Benedict, and president of a grand college in France.''
   ""I would like to converse with him,'' said Delany, ""for I
have always thought that he feigned to be something a degree
lower than he is.''
     You said there was <1but one>1 you would lament the loss of
more, said the poet: ""Pray, who may that <1one>1 be?''
   Could you not guess?'' returned she.
   How can I?'' said he; ""but this I know, that to be the
favoured one I would dive into the depths of the ocean,--''
   ""It wad be for fear then,'' said Tam.
   ""Or traverse the regions of ice,'' continued the bard, ""or
wander barefoot over burning sands, or--''
   ""O, alak for your poor feet!'' said Delany, interrupting
him; ""but rest satisfied you shall not be put to the test: it is
not you.''
   With such kind of chat did they beguile the way, till Elias,
looking back, exclaimed, ""Mercy! see what a guise Yardbire
is coming in!''
   ""St Mary protect us!'' said the maid; ""he must be griev-
ously wounded. See how he rides!''
   Every one turned round his horse and looked at the
approaching warrior; but it was wearing late, and they could
not see with distinctness. The horse was coming rapidly, and
with apparent impatience, but Charlie appeared as if he were
riding in his sleep. When the horse came down hill he bent
forward, and on climbing an ascent he bent back, riding with
that sort of motion as if his back or neck were out of joint.
The whole group showed manifest signs of fear at the approach
of such a hideous apparition; and, quite in earnest, though in
a pretended frolic, they wheeled about again, and gallopped
away. The ground being uneven, and the night-fall coming on,
they soon lost sight of him; and, continuing their career as
fast as the road would permit, they seemed inclined to escape
from their friend altogether. The maid had just begun to
remonstrate on their unfriendly procedure, when they beheld
the same unaccountable figure coming at the full gallop close
behind them. Seeing that he was determined to be of the
party, they suffered him to overtake them quietly. He came
driving furiously up till he was in the middle of them, and
then paused. No one had the courage to speak to him, for he
looked not up, nor regarded any of them. His helmed head
nodded on his breast, and his arms hung loosely down by his
side, the steel armlets rattling on the cuishes. At one time his
horse came so near to that on which Delany rode, that she
weened she saw the rider all covered with blood, and screamed
out; yet in the twilight she could not be certain. The poet,
who was never far from her side, and on whom her voice
always acted like electricity, immediately demanded the
cause of her alarm.
   ""O Carol!'' said she, in an agitated whisper, ""we are
haunted. That is a dead man that rides in our company.''
   If the maid was alarmed, the poet was ten times more so.
If she had said that a lion or a bear was in the company, it
could not have struck such a chillness to the poor bard's
heart; and, after all, it was no wonder, for there is some-
thing exceedingly appalling in the idea of having a dead man
riding in one's company. The poet felt this in its fullest
measure. He held in his horse and attempted a reply, but a
dryness pervaded his mouth so much that he could not make
himself intelligible. A damp had fallen on the whole party,
and a breathless silence prevailed. Tam put the question, so
natural, to him as he passed, ""Charlie, is this you?''--but
none answered or regarded. They were riding up a slanting
hill when the bard was first apprised of the nature of their
guest, and shortly after the figure coming between him and
the evening sky, its motions were altogether so hideous, that
he roared out in perfect terror as loud as he could bray,
scarce letting one bellow await another. This was still worse
than the dumb appalling uncertainty in which they were
before involved; till at last Tam, losing all patience, let loose
his rage against the poet, calling him a bellowing beast, and
many other opprobrious names. This encouraging Gibbie,
who had the bard at no good will on account of the damsel,
he said he brought him ""amind of a story that the fo'k o'
Annandale tauld about Andrew Jardine's bull, that was
better at booing than breeding.'' The boy Elias now coming
in behind them, and having heard what Delany said, cried
softly, ""Hush! yeomen! hush! we are haunted; it is a ghost
that rides in our company.''
   They all turned their eyes to the mysterious figure, which
they still thought resembled their champion Yardbire, as
well as the horse did that which he rode, the redoubted
Corby. The horse had started a little forward at the cries of
the poet, but when the rest paused the figure seemed to
wheel his horse around, and made a dead pause also, standing
still with his face toward them, and straight on the path
before. Not one durst proceed. The figure neither moved nor
threatened, but stood nodding its head on the height at every
motion of the steed; yet our party were arrested on their
way, nor knew they exactly in what place they were: But
from the length of the way they had come, they were sure
they were near the Scottish army on one side or other, and
free from any danger of the foes they had left behind them
on the Border. None of them were good guides in any case,
and a man in fear is neither a fit guide for himself nor
others.  Fear had the sway, and fear gave the word of
command without being disputed. The poet was the first
to strike from the beaten path, and it was at no easy pace
that he rode. He turned westward, and the rest all followed
with main speed. Their progress was soon interrupted by a
strong cattle fence made of stakes and the branches of trees
interwoven, bespeaking the vicinity of some village, or place
of human habitation. They soon broke through the fence,
but by bad luck did not take time to make up the breach,
which they left open, and posting forward came to a large
house amid a number of smaller ones. The poet called for
admittance in a moving and earnest stile, and at once
resolved to take no denial. Before ever he paused, he told
them he and his party had lost their way, and that they had
seen a ghost.
   ""Then you must be some murderers,'' said the men of the
house,--""and here you remain not to-night.''
   ""We belong to the warden of the marches, the brave baron
of Mountcomyn,'' said the poet, ""and go on an errand of
great import to the army. In that case we might demand what
we only ask as a boon, namely, such lodging as the house
affords.''
   ""You had better keep that part to yourself,'' said the men
of the house: ""Though Sir Ringan is supreme in the middle
marches, he is no favourite here. Our master's name is Ker.
He is with the Douglas, but may be home to-night. Calm
sough and kitchen fare, or ride on.''
   ""It brings me in mind o' an auld proverb,'' said Gibbie,
""that beggars should nae be choisers; sae, honest lads, bring
us a light, for our horses are sair tired an' maun be weel
put up.''
   The party, it will be remembered, consisted only of five,
exclusive of Charlie and the friar. They had draw up their
horses close to the hall door, and were still on horseback
when the men turned into the house for a light. The poet,
whose eager eyes were still on the watch, chancing to look
at the heads of his associates between him and the sky, thought
he discovered one too many.
   ""Surely there are six of us,'' said he in a hurried tremulous
voice. ""Six of us!'' said Tam, as doubting the statement.
   ""Six of us? No, surely?'' said Delany.
   At that instant a lad came out with a lanthorn, and held
it up to look at the party. The poet was nearest the door, and
the light shone full on him and the rider that was next him.
He cast his eyes on that rider,--but one glance was enough
to bedim his eye-sight, if not to scare away his reason. It
had the appearance of a warrior sheathed in steel, but all
encrusted in a sheet of blood. His mouth was wide open, and
his jaws hanging down upon his breast, while his head seemed
to be cleft asunder. The poet uttered a loud yell of horror,
and, flinging himself from his horse on the side opposite to
that on which the phantom stood, he fell among the mud
and stones at the door, yet ceased not to reiterate his loud
cries like one in distraction. Every one jumped from his
horse, and hurried in at the door; the man with the lanthorn
also fled, and with the noise and uproar the horses galloped
off, saddled and bridled as they were. As the guests ran
into the hall, every one asked at all the rest what it was?
""What is it?'' was all that could be heard; all asking the ques-
tion, but none answering it. Even the people of the house
joined in the query, and came all round the strangers,
crying, ""What is it?--What is it?''--""I do not know--I do not
know, Sir--I do not know upon my word.''
   ""The people are all delirious,'' said the housekeeper:
""--Can no one tell us what it was that affrighted you?--St
Magdalene be with us! whom have we here?''
   This was no other than the poor bard coming toward the
light, creeping slowly on all-four, and still groaning as he came.
   ""Here's the chap that began the fray,'' said Tam, ""you
may speer at him. He rather looks as he were at ane mae wi't.
For my part, I just did as the rest did,--ran an' cried as loud
as I could. When a dust is fairly begun, I think aye the mair
stour that is raised the better. I'll try wha will cry loudest
again, an ye like,--or rin round the fire wi' ony o' you, or
out through the mids o't either, at a pinch.''
   Tam turned round his long nose to see if his jest had
taken, for he always fixed his eyes stedfastly on one
object when he spoke; but he found that his jargon had
been ill-timed, for no one laughed at it but himself. The rest
were gathered round the bard; some pitying, but more like
to burst with laughter at his forlorn state. He fetched two or
three long-drawn moans, and then raising himself up on his
knees, with his eyes fixed on the light, he rolled over, and
fainted.
   Delany first stooped to support his head, and was soon
assisted by every female in the house, while the men only
stood and Iooked on. By bathing his hands and temples
with cold water, they soon brought him out of his faint, but
not to his right senses. His looks continued wild and unstable,
and ever and anon they were turned to the door, as if he
expected some other guest to enter. A sober conference at
last ensued; and as no one had seen or heard any thing at
this last encounter, save the man that was taken ill, who a
few moments before had been heard to say <1there were six of>1
<1them,>1 all began to agree that he had been seized with some
sudden frenzy or delirium; till the lad, who had carried out
the light, thrust in his pale face among the rest, and said,--
""Na, na, my masters, it is nae for naething that the honest
man's gane away in a kink; for, when I held up the bouet,
I saw a dead man riding on a horse close at his side. He was
berkened wi' blood off at the taes; and his mouth was open,
and I saw his tongue hinging out.''
   It may well be conceived what an icy chillness these
words distilled round the heart of every one present. The
effect on our travellers was particularly appalling, from the
idea that they were haunted by a phantom from which they
could not escape. The whole group closed around the fire,
and the strangers recounted to the family the singular
occurrence of their having lost two of their number by the
way, and been pursued and overtaken by a phantom resemb-
ling one of them, and that the hideous spectre was, as it
seemed, haunting them still. As they all agreed in the same
story, it was not of a nature to be disregarded at a period
when superstition swayed the hearts of men with irresistible
power. The stoutest heart among them was daunted, and
no one durst go out to the vaults to look after his master's
cattle, nor to take in our travellers' horses, that were left
to shift for themselves during the long winter night.
   The next morning, between day-light and the sun-rising,
the men began to peep abroad, and the first things they
observed were some of the horses of our travellers going
about in a careless, easy manner. This they looked on as a
good omen, knowing that horses were terrified for spirits;
and the men joining in a body, they sallied out to recon-
noitre. The horses had fared well, for they had fed at the
laird's stacks of hay and corn all night; but as the men were
going round to see how matters stood, they perceived a
phenomenon, that, if it had not been open day-light, would
have scared them from the habitation. This was the identical
phantom-warrior still sitting unmoved on his horse, that was
helping itself full liberally out of one of the laird's corn-
ricks. The eye of day expels the films of superstition from
the human eye. The men, after a short consultation, ventured
to surround the phantom,--to seize his horse,--(who had given
full proof that he at least was flesh and blood;)--and, after a
good deal of trembling astonishment, they found that he was
actually rode by a dead warrior, whose head was cleft asunder,
and his whole body, both within and without the harness,
encrusted in blood.
   The mystery was soon cleared up; but none then knew
who he was. It had become customary in that age for warriors,
who went to engage others, on horseback, to lock them-
selves to the saddle, for fear of being borne out of their
seats by the spears of their opponents in the encounter. This
was the individual trooper who had come foremost in the
pursuit of our party, he whom the friar jostled, and whom
Charlie, encountering the moment after, had slain; but his
suit of armour having kept him nearly upright in his saddle,
his horse had run off with him, and followed after those
of our travellers, as every horse will do that is let go on a high-
way and gets his will.
   Glad were our travellers at an eclaircissement so fairly with-
in the bounds of their comprehension, and when the poet
saw the gash made in the helmet, he shook his head, and
exclaimed, ""Ha! well I wot the mighty hand of Charlie has
been here!''
   Gibbie remarked that he himself had ""killed one very like
him, only he was sure his wad never mount horse again.''
But seeing Tam's ill-set eye fixed on him, he was afraid of
something coming out relating to that encounter which he did
not wish to hear blabbed; so he changed his tone, and, look-
ing wise, said, ""The hale business brings me a-mind of a very
good story that happened aince at Allergrain; an' if it be nae
true it is behadden to the maker, for the sin o' the lie lyes nae
at my door. The story, you see, is this.--There was a man,
an' he had a wife; an' they had a son, an' they ca'ed him
Jock--''
   ""Now, d--n your particularity!'' said Tam Craik: ""think
you we have nought else to do but stand beside the bloody
man and listen to a long-winded talk like that?''
   The poet muttered over some old rhyme in unison with
what he heard. If one word spoken chanced to occur in any
old rhyme or song that he knew, he went over the sentence
to himself, though it had no farther connection with it, or
resemblance to it, than merely that word. This made his con-
versation altogether incomprehensible to those not acquainted
with him, but it was always delightful to himself; a chance
old rhyme brought to his remembrance, would have pleased
him almost in any circumstances, while his words chimed
naturally into measure.
   Leaving the dead warrior at the house where they lodged
for the people to bury as they liked, they proceeded to the
army, in hopes of finding Charlie and the friar there; for
without them they did not know how to accomplish their
mission. These two heroes finding, on asking at a hamlet,
that their friends had not passed on the road to Roxburgh,
suspected what way they had gone, and turning to the south-
east they followed them on the track to Yetholm, but missed
them at the house into which they had been chased by the
dead man, and rode searching for them the greater part of
the night. Next morning they again went in search of them,
and came up behind them at the convent of Maisondieu
near to the Teviot, where a detachment of the army was
stationed; and, after conversing two or three hours on the
state of the army and garrison, they proceeded on their
journey, and reached the abbey of Melrose that night. There
they were welcomed by the brethren, and lodged comfortably.
There also they got many strange stories told to them about
Master Michael Scott, which made the very hairs of their
heads stand on end, and the hearts of the boldest to palpitate.
When the friar heard them, he seemed wrapt in deep thought;
and he opened his mouth, and said: ""If the things that thou
hast spoken be according to the light that is in thee, and the
truth that is told among men, then this man is not as other
men, for the spirit of the immortals is in him, and he commu-
neth with the prince of the power of the air. Nevertheless, I
will go unto him, and I will speak to him face to face, as a
man speaketh to his friend. Peradventure I shall tell him
that which he knoweth not.''
   When it was told to the abbot Lawrence, that the servants
of the warden were come, and that they were accompanied
by his chaplain and bedesman, a learned man in all holy
things, the father came to bestow upon them his benediction,
--for the baron of Mountcomyn had conferred many rich
benefices on the abbey. At the first sound of the friar's
voice, the abbot started, as if recollecting him; but on look-
ing at the man his hope seemed to die away. Every time, how-
ever, that he spoke in his eastern style, the abbot fixed a
look on him, as if he would fain have claimed acquaintance,
which the friar perceiving, urged their departure with all the
interest he had; and accordingly, about mid-day, they set
out for Aikwood-castle, the seat of the renowned magician
Master Michael Scott.
   Ever since the stern encounter with the English moss-
troopers on the Thief-road, Charlie had attached himself close
to the friar, imagining that he saw his character in a new
light, and that he was one who might either be roused to des-
perate courage, or impressed with notorious dread; and when
he heard him say that he would speak to the enchanter face
to face, he admired him still the more; for the business of
addressing the Master was that which stuck sorest on the
stomach of the doughty Yardbire. As for the poet, he scarcely
seemed himself all that day. He looked at the mountains,
and the wild romantic rivers branching among them in every
direction, with looks of which it was hard to say whether
they were looks of vacancy or affection, for he looked some-
times as at objects which he was never to see again. His
tongue muttered long rhymes in which his heart had little
share; so that Delany was obliged to detach herself from his
society, and make up to the friar, whom she now addressed
with much affection, and some degree of coquetry:--
   ""Dearest father, why have you neglected me so much on
our journey? Ever since our first stage was got over, you have
not deigned to take any notice of me. What have you seen in
my conduct that you have thus shunned me? It is in sincerity
that I assure you there is no man in whose conversation I so
much delight.''
   ""Fairest among maidens!'' said the friar, putting his arm
gently around her neck, as her palfrey came close up by his
side, ""say not so, but come near me, I will kiss thee with the
kisses of my mouth, for thy love is sweeter to me than the
vintage. Behold thou art even like a tower of alabaster shining
from among the cedars of Lebanon. Thy bosom resembleth
two young roes that are twins, and feed among the lilies of
the valley.''
   ""Hold, dear father!'' said she, ""and do not let your gallan-
try run away with your good common sense. Yet would I love
to hear that language spoken to another, for though it be
nonsense it is still beautiful. Tell me, for I long to hear, where,
or in what country, you learned to speak in that stile.''
   ""Daughter of my people,'' said he, ""I have learned that
language at home and in a far country. In youth and in age
hath it been my delight. At noon-tide when the sun shone in
his strength, and in the silent watches of the night hath it
been my meditation. In adversity hath it been my comfort,
and in prosperity my joy; so that now it hath become unto
me as my mother tongue, and other language have I none.''
   ""Is it the language of the convent and the priory alone?''
said the maid.
   ""No, thou rose of the desart,'' said the friar;--""it is not the
language indeed, but the stile of language over one half of the
habitable world. It is the language of all the kingdoms and
countries of the east, from India even unto Ethiopia; and all
the way as thou goest down towards the rising of the sun,
yea from the river to the ends of the earth it prevaileth. But,
O thou fairest among the daughters of women! that language
did I not learn in the lands that are watered by the great
river, even the river Euphrates. In Ur of the Chaldees have I
not sojourned; nor on the mountains of Palestine have I
lifted up my eyes. But I learned it from one little book; a
book that is of more value to the children of men than all
the gold of Ophir. O maiden, could I but make known unto
thee the treasures of that book, the majesty of its stile, and
the excellency of its precepts, it would make thine heart to
sing for joy. If all the writings of this world, yea, if the world
itself were to be laid in the balance with that book, they
would be found wanting. The mountains may depart, and
the seas may pass away, the stars, and the heavens in which
they shine, may be removed, but the words of that book shall
remain for ever and ever! And this language that I now
speak to thee resembleth the words written therein; and
I speak them unto thee that thou mayest hear and love them.''
   ""Dear friar, teach me to read and understand that book,
for my breast yearneth to know more about it. I am, it is true,
not my own at present to give, but I have some forebodings
here that tell me I soon shall; and, father, I will serve thee,
and be thy handmaid, if thou wilt teach me the words and the
mysteries of that little book.''
   ""Alas! and wo is me, for the ignorance of my people!''
said he, with the tears streaming over his grim cheek; ""they
are troubled about that which availeth them nothing, while
the way of life is hid from their eyes. Their leaders have
caused them to err; and I, even I, have been a dweller in
the tabernacles of sin! But the day-star hath shone upon my
soul and my spirit:  For that have I been persecuted, and
hunted as a partridge upon the mountains, chased from the
habitations of my brethren, and forced to dwell among a
strange and savage people. Yet there are among them whom
I love; and could I be the mean of opening thine eyes, and
turning thee from darkness unto light, then would I know
for what purpose the finger of heaven had pointed out my
way to this barren wilderness. Thou can'st not be a servant or
a handmaiden unto one who is little better than an outcast
and a vagabond on the earth. But better days may come to us
both: I am not what I seem; but, maiden, thou mayest trust
me. My love for thee surpasseth the love of women, for it is
with more than an earthly love that I behold and delight in
thee. Come unto me this night, and I will teIl thee things
that shall make thine ears tingle. The book of wonders is here
with me, and thou mayest look thereon and be glad.''
   The poet and his associates listened to this rhapsody apart.
   ""What book does he mean?'' said the poet: ""If it is not
True Thomas's book, or the book of Sir Gawin, he must be
speaking absolute nonsense. I could recite these to lovely
Delany, word for word; and must this clumsy old friar wile
her from me by any better book than these?''
   ""You are clean mista'en, maister poeter,'' said Tam; ""I
ken mair about auld Roger than you do, or than ony that's
here. It is a book o' black art that he carries about wi' him, and
studies on it night and day. He gat it at a place they ca'
Oxford, where they study nought else but sic cantrips. They
hae tried to hang him, and they hae tried to cut off his head,
and they hae tried to burn him at the stake; but tow wadna
hang, water wadna drown, steel wadna nick, and a' the fire
o' the land wadna singe ae hair o' the auld loun's head.''
   ""Gude forgie me!'' said Charlie: ""An that be true, Corby,
you and I had maybe mair pith than our ain yon time. I
wondered that he rade sae furiously on the drawn swords o'
men and armour, the auld warlock. He-he-he! we'Il aiblins try
auld Michael at his ain weapons, an that be the gate.''
   ""Ye maunna lippen ower muckle to a' this,'' said he of the
Peatstacknowe; ""else ye may play like Marion'sJock, when he
gaed away to douk in Commonside loch. "It is a hard matter,'
says Jock to himself, "that a' the lave o' Commonside's men
can swatter and swim in the loch like sae mony drakes but
me. I am fain either to poutter about the side, or down I gang.
I can neither sink nor swim; for when I try to get to the
bottom to creep, there I stick like a woundit paddock, wagging
my arms and my legs, and can neither get to the top nor the
bottom. Just half way, there stick I. But I's be even hands wi'
them an' mair, an' then I'll laugh at the leishest o' them; for
I'll stand, and wade, and gang ower the waves afore them a',
aye, and that wi' my head boonmost.' Jock, after this grand
contrivance, coudna rest, but off he sets to Hawick, and gets
four big blawn bladders; and the next day, when a' the lave
went to bathe, Jock he went to bathe amang the rest; and he
gangs slyly into a bush by himsel', and ties twa o' the bladders
to every foot. "Now,' thinks Jock, "I'll let them see a trick.'
Sae he slips into the loch, and wades into the deep, but the
bladders they aye gart him hobble and bob up and down, till,
faith, he loses the balance, and ower he coups. Nane o' them
kend o' Jock"s great plan, and they were a' like to burst their
sides wi' laughing when they saw Jock diving. But when they
saw he wasna like to come up again, they swattered away
to the place, and there was Jock swimming wi' his head
straight to the bottom, and his feet and the four bladders
walking a minuay aboon. Now, let me tell ye, an ye lippen
to the friar's warlockry, and his enchantments, and divina-
tions, ye trust to as mony bladders fu' o' wind, and down
gae a' your heads, and your heels uppermost. Na, na; nane
maun try to cope wi' auld Michael.''
   ""I hae heard, indeed, that he coudna brook ony rivalry,''
said Charlie; ""and I hae heard waur instances, and waur
stories too, than that o' yours, laird. But let us draw slyly
near to the twasome, and make lang lugs, to try if we can learn
ony mair about that same beuk. If the friar hae ony power
o' enchantment, it is my opinion the first glamour he'll
thraw will be ower that bonny wench.''
   ""We ought to keep them asunder by force.'' said the poet;
""it would be a shame and a disgrace to us, if we were to let
the auld rogue seduce either her person or her morals.''
   ""Morals?'' said Charlie; ""I dinna ken about them, for I
watna weel what they are; but as to seducing hersel', I think
I could answer for auld Roger the friar. I see there's nae man
can help liking a bonny lass; but the better a good man likes
ane he'll be the mair sweer to do her ony skaith.''
   ""Aye; but then how can an enchanter be a good man?''
said the poet.
   ""That's the thing that puzzles me,'' said Charlie: ""Let us
hear what they are on about sae briskly now.''
   They then drew near, and heard the following words, while
the remarks that they made were said aside among themselves.
   ""My fate, you see, has been a strange one, father. I was
separated from my parents so young that I scarcely remember
them. But the Scots have been kind to me, and I have loved
them. I have never been unhappy, except when long confined
to a place, which I dislike exceedingly; and as I have hopes
that this change will add somewhat to my freedom, I rejoice
in it, without weighing circumstances. If those fond hopes
should be realised, I promise to you, father, that the first use
I will make of my liberty, shall be to sit at your feet, and
learn that wonderful and mysterious book.''
   ""Do you hear that?'' said the poet with great emphasis,
but in a half whisper; ""he has gotten her broken already to
learn the book of the black art. Then the deil's bargain and
witchcraft comes next; then the harassing of the whole
country side, dancing in kirkyards, and riding on the wind;
and then, mayhap, the stake and the faggot end the matter
that is but just beginning. Alak, and wo is me! I say, in the
king's name, and in the warden's let them be separated.''
   ""Gude sauf us!'' exclaimed Charlie: ""There's nae man
sure o' his life an a' this be true! But a' fair play. Nae seIf
amang us. Hist, and let us hear what he is saying in answer.''
   ""Daughter,'' said the friar, half crying with joy, ""doth not
my heart yearn over thee, even as a mother yearneth over the
child of her bosom? Lo, I will be unto thee as a father, and
thou shalt be unto me as a daughter.''
   ""Hear what the old rascal is saying!'' said the poet.
   ""And behold the fruits of our labours shall spring up into
life;''--
   ""Oh, this is past all sufferance!'' said the poet.
   --""For, O thou fair one, whose beauty is as the beauty of
the morning, and whose innocence surpasseth that of the
kid, or the lamb, or the young roe, when they are playing
upon the mountains,''--
   ""Gude faith, Mr Carol,'' said Charlie aside, ""it's that auld
chap that's the poet, an' no you.''
   ""Humph! mere fustian!'' said the poet.
   The friar still went on:-
   --""That beauty will decay, as the rose fadeth on the brows
of Shinar or Hermon; and that innocence shall be perverted
by the sinful and regardless people among whom thou so-
journest, and shall become, as it were, betrothed to sin and
corruption; yea, and that eye, that shineth like the dews of
the morning, shall be darkened. But, O beloved maiden!
there is that in this little book, yea, I say unto thee, even in
this old, neglected, and despised book, that, unto those who
learn it, shall prove the savour of life unto life; and if thou
dost learn and cherish the things contained in this book thou
shalt never die!''
   ""Ay, billy, that is a yanker!'' said Tam aside: ""When ane is
gaun to tell a lie, there's naething like telling a plumper at
aince, and being done wi't.''
   ""Now, but hear to the deceitful old rogue,'' said the poet:
""All the books of black art in the world cannot accomplish
that.  In the name of Saint Barnabas, I say let them be
separated! ''
   ""It wad be weel done,'' said Tam, ""if ane durst;''--for he
wanted to blow up the poet's wrath, for the sake of a little
sport.
   ""Durst!'' said the poet, ""durst!--If none other dare, I shall,
in spite of all his hellish arts. Durst! that is a good one,--
to be dursted with an old sackbut!''
   They did not hear what answer Delany made to the extra-
ordinary information, as they took it, that, by learning the
little black book, she was to be redeemed from death; for the
fierce jealousy of the enamoured bard prevented them. But
when they listened again so as to hear distinctly, the friar was
still increasing in fervency. All that he said was in raptures of
divine ecstacy; while his associates, who knew nothing, and
cared as little about these things, understood it in another way.
   ""For I say unto thee, if thou wilt suffer me to instil these
truths into thee, thou shalt both blossom and bring forth
fruit abundantly; yea, thou shalt shine as the stars in the
firmament of heaven. Seest thou yon sun that walketh
above the clouds in majesty and brightness? Beyond yon sun
shall thine habitation be fixed; and the blue arch that encircles
the regions of the air, which thou hast so often seen studded
over with diamonds, shall be unto thee a pavement whereon
thou shalt tread. All this and more shalt thou possess, if thou
wilt learn and obey the things that are written in this book,
where it is said by one that cannot err, "Lo, I will be always
with you, and my arms shall be underneath and around you,
and when you are faint and weary I will hide you in my
bosom.''
   ""For the blood that is in your body dare to attempt such
a thing!'' cried the enraged poet. ""Down with hypocrisy and
sensuality together! Hurray for the combat, and God defend
the right!''
   So, crying as loud as he could yell, he pulled out his
sword, and rode furiously up between Delany and the friar,
shoving the latter rudely as he passed. The maiden's palfrey
sprung away, but the friar's mule only leaned with all his
might to the poet's steed as he pressed against him in passing;
and feeling his prop give way, he leaned round in the same
direction, till his tail was exactly where his head was before;
and then, dreading some abhorred exertion, he set his feet
asunder, and stood immovable. The poet drew up, and
wheeled about, and seeing still the hinder parts of the friar
and his beast, he cried, exultingly, ""Ay, you are more ready
to seduce an innocent and lovely maiden, than to answer for
the crime! Vile lump of sin and hypocrisy! turn round and
meet me face to face, that I may chastise thee for thy grace-
less attempt!''
   The friar spurred most furiously, but the mule only dashed
his head downward and his heels in a contrary direction, and
kept his position. All the rest were like to burst with laughter,
which still increasing the bard's insolence, he fumed about
enchantments and the black art, and dared the friar to turn
and look him in the face.
   What with one provocation, what with another, the friar's
angry passions were roused; and, not being able to make his
mule turn round, he drew out his sword, saying at the same
time in a voice of great vehemence, ""God do so to me and
more also, if I make not--''
   He got no farther with his speech, for the mule interrupted
him. Obstinate as the brute was, the sight of the sword, and
the sound of his master's angry voice operated on him like
magic. Perhaps he understood that all further opposition was
vain,--for in one moment he wheeled around, his eyes gleam-
ing with rage; and pricking up his ears to see where the storm
of his and his master's wrath was to alight, he perceived the
poet on his tall steed, brandishing his dazzling sword, and
forthwith darted at them with the swiftness of an arrow, and
a fury not to be checked. There were no more words nor
threatenings passed between the enraged combatants; for more
space of time there was none before the mule had his shoulder
to that of the poet's steed, his teeth fixed in his flank, and
was pushing with the fury of an enraged bull.
   On the closing of the two steeds the riders likewise
engaged, the poet coming on with a downward stroke, which
the friar received with great indifference on his sword crossed
above his cowl. But knowing well the nature of his beast, he
kept up the poet's sword and arm both, until the sides of the
two animals were jammed together, as the rider of the mule
well knew they would be. By that time the poet's arm was
pressed up straight by his ear, and his sword pointed to
heaven; and in endeavouring to free his elbow from the hilt
of the friar's sword, he lost his balance. At the same instant
their feet encountering in the stirrups, and the friar's being
below that of his opponent, he gave him such a ketch with
his right foot and sword-arm together, that he made him fly
from his horse to a great distance, in a sort of arching direction;
and the unfortunate poet, falling on his shoulder and head,
was wofully bruised, and utterly discomfited.
   But the combat ended not here. The mule still struggled
with his adversay, which not only kept his ground, but rather
began to force the mule to give way. But the inveterate mongrel
was not to be vanquished in that way. He pressed, struggled,
and wrought himself round, till he got his tail to the horse's
shoulder, and then he attacked him furiously with his iron-
heels. The horse being a horse of spirit, and scorning to yield
to his long-eared adversary, applied the same offensive weapons
with very little ceremony, wincing and screaming all the while,
and sometimes making his feet to fly as high as the friar's
elbows. The mule fought with desperate energy, but in pro-
found silence. Not so the rider; he spurred, struck with his
sword, and cried with a loud voice, ""Soh! tproo! thou beast
of the pit! sure the spirit of the evil one is in thee! Lo, I shall
be beaten to pieces, for the heels of the horses are lifted up
against me. By the life of Pharaoh, I will smite thee until thy
blood shall be poured out like water,--thou perverse and
abominable beast! I say unto thee go forward!''
   The voice of the friar, during this passionate declamation,
had arisen gradually until the last sentence, which was pro-
nounced in his utmost stile of vehemence. The mule heard
this, and saw the uplifted sword; and not awaiting its descent,
he sprang forward with main force, but no man will guess the
issue.
   It may well be conceived, that during this desperate combat
between the horse and mule, the onlookers were convulsed
with laughter. Charlie Scott, in particular, laughed with a
""Ha-ha-ha!'' so loud that he made all the woods around to
ring, and at every breath exclaimed, ""Gude faith, I never
saw ought half so grand! Na, never!'' Gibbie was advanced a
little before the rest, so as to be near the scene of action,
which, without doubt, was bringing him in mind of some
excellent story, for his mouth was formed like a seam from
the one ear to the other. But it is dangerous putting one's
self too forward in life, and that the poor laird of the Peat-
stacknowe soon found. It is well known that between parties
so closely connected as the horse and his rider, passion begets
passion. The mule, driven altogether furious by the broil, and
the rage and spurs of his master, either wished to rub himself
rid of him, or deemed that it was to be a battle general; for he
no sooner rushed from one fray than he flew to another,
quite open-mouthed on Gibbie, and, seizing him by the thigh,
he separated one limb of his buffskin breeches and a mouthful
of the laird's own skin from their places, in one moment,
and the next had his teeth fixed in the flank of the laird's
horse. Gibbie cried out against the friar, irritated by pain, as
well as the awkward and dangerous situation in which he was
thus momently placed. His horse flung--the mule returned
the compliment with hearty good will, and glad was Gibbie
to escape, which he did with great celerity as soon as he got
leisure to use the spurs. The mule ran straight at the next
horse, and then at the next again, but all of them scampered
off at his approach, and left him master of the field; on
which he turned two or three times sullenly round, throwing
himself up behind and down before. The friar's wrath was
somewhat diverted by the shouts of laughter from his scattered
compeers, and he only smiled grimly as he said to his con-
tumacious beast,--""Thou art even a perverse and an evil one;
nevertheless thou hast been to me a beast for these many
years, and hast borne me in distant pilgrimages, through many
perils and dangers; and I will not act the part of the son of
Bosor: peradventure thou mayest amend thy ways and do
some credit to old age.''
   The laird in his escape gallopped by the forlorn poet; who,
raising up his head, and perceiving the plight of the dismayed
and unoffensive wight, scouring off with the one thigh naked
and bleeding, burst out into a hysteric giggle between laugh-
ing and crying, and repeated some scraps of old rhyme no way
connected with the incident. The attention of the party was
now turned to him, and the friar's as much as any, who
enquired with great simplicity, ""My brother, why was thine
arm lifted up against me?''
   The bard was dreadfully abashed, and out of countenance;
and he only answered in rhymes, of which none of them
could make any thing:

       ''His arm was strong, and his heart was stout,
           And he broke the tower and he got out;
            Then the king he was an angry man,
              And an angry man was he,
        And he said, ""Go, lock him in prison strong,
              And hunger him till he dee.''

   ""That was a hard weird, was it not? Ha-ha! there be many
such; for

              '"He had his wale of seven sisters,
            Of lith, and lire, and limb so fair-
              But the loathly dame of the Hazelrig,
            She ruined his peace for evermair.''

   ""Lo, my son,'' answered the friar, ""thy thoughts are wander-
ing in a wilderness. I only ask thee wherein I have offended
thee. For as mine hand is, so is mine heart; and, as my soul
liveth, I know not in what respect I have done thee wrong.''

              '"I have not done thee wrong, fair May,
                I have not done thee wrong,
              But the cup of death has passed my lips,
               And my life will not be long.''

   ""No, no; dame Delany, you need not bathe my temples. I
am not raving. I am not even hurt. The mischievous beast
made my horse throw me, but I am nothing the worse.''
   The friar, not being able to make any thing of the poet
himself, applied to the rest, and was soon informed by Tam,
that ""he was overheard trying to gar the lassie leam the black
art, and courting her to nae good; and the poet grew jealous,
and was for being revenged.''
  The friar uttered a loud groan for the ignorance of his
associates; but, hopeless of making any thing of them at such
a period, he only began to moralise in a general manner. The
poet was again gotten to mount; and shortly after they reached
the ancient town of Selkirk, where they halted and refreshed
themselves at the monastery of the Cistertians. There the
laird got his wound dressed, and his dilapidated robes re-
fitted; and that same evening the party reached the castle of
Aikwood, the residence of the celebrated wizard Master
Michael Scott.
                     CHAPTER XIII
                   He was a base and a cruel knight,
                     As ever my two eyes did see;
                   And all that he did, and all that he said,
                     It was by the might of glamourye.

                   But yet his gear was o' the goude
                     As it waved and wampished in the wind;
                   And the coal-black steed he rode upon,
                     It was fleeter than the bonny hind.
                                   <1Ballad of Sir Colin Brand>1

THE distance from Melrose to the castle of Aikwood being
only about nine English miles, our party came in view of it
before sun-set. It was one of those dead calm winter evenings,
not uncommon at that season, when the slightest noise is
heard at a distance, and the echoes are all abroad.
   As they drew near to the huge dark-looking pile, silence
prevailed among them more and more. All was so still that
even that beautiful valley seemed a waste. There was no hind
whistling at the plough; no cattle nor sheep grazing on the
holms of Aikwood; no bustle of servants, kinsmen, or their
grooms, as at the castles of other knights. It seemed as if the
breath of the enchanter, or his eye, had been infectious, and
had withered all within its influence, whether of vegetable,
animal, or human life. The castle itself scarcely seemed to be
the abode of man; the massy gates were all locked; no porter
was in attendance; and there was only one small piping smoke
issuing from one of the turrets.
   ""Gude faith! callans,'' said Charlie, ""that's a douth and an
awsome looking bigging. I wish we were fairly in, and safely
out again.''
   ""Is that now to be my residence, Yardbire?'' said the beau-
tiful Delany. ""Will you go away, and leave Elias and me in
that frightsome and desolate looking mansion?''
   ""If the great Master gie us a civil answer,'' said Charlie, not
well wotting what to say,--""and desire to have you for his
handmaiden, or rather the mistress of his castle, to overlook
the other maids, and the spinning and weaving concerns like,
then we have orders to leave you. But, if he should be cross,
and crabbit, and paughty wi' us, ye're in gude hands, and
we'll no quat wi' you sae easily.''
   ""Thou art in good hands indeed,'' said the friar: ""But,
alas! what is man! a flower of the field that the hand of the
mower cutteth down and leaveth to decay: A shadow; a sound
that passeth away and is not. But, maiden, thou art in better
hands than ours; in hands that will not leave the innocent and
guiltless to perish. There is an arm around thee that thou
seest not: there is a guardian with a sword behind thee and
before thee, of whom thou art not aware. Therefore have thou
no fear, for no evil shall befal thee.''
   ""Methinks I could live any where, and be void of fear, if
but suffered to be in your presence,'' said Delany: ""There is
something in what you have told me that goes to my heart,
and on it I think I can rely.''
   ""Blessed be thou, my daughter!'' said he; ""yea, and blessed
shalt thou be in thy generation''--
   ""Hear to that!'' said the poet aside: ""Still on one subject!
It is all over with some body!-''
   --""But thou art perhaps going into a place of danger, and
evil things may await thee. Here, take thou this, and keep it
in thy bosom; and, by the blessing of the Holy Virgin, it shall
shield thee from all malevolent spirits, all enchantments, and
all dangers of the wicked one; the time may come when thou
shalt more thoroughly understand the great things contained
in this book.''
   As he said this, he put into her hand a small gilded copy of
the Four Evangelists, which she kissed and put into her bosom.
All the rest saw this, and took it for a book of the Black Art.
   By this time they were drawing near to the gate at Aikwood,
where all continued silent and still as formerly. Notwithstand-
ing of this, Charlie's horse, Corby, began to cock his ears and
snort in a terrible manner. Stout-hearted as Charlie was, his
countenance began to alter; but he uttered not a word farther
than coaxing Corby to proceed. The mule leading the way
altogether regardless, the horses jogged on after him, example
going farther than precept, whether with man or beast. All
the horses were, however, become restive, though none of
them was half so fierce as Corby. He continued to force down
his head, as if smelling the ground; anon capering and snuffing
the air, snorting aloud, and moving with an elasticity rather
like a thing of spirit than of joints and bones. ""Gude faith,
Corby, my man,'' said Charlie, as he patted his mane, ""a' isna
right here! Wend on, ye camstairy thief: what the deil ails ye?
But, gude sauf us! ane should take care wha they name here.
They say, an speak o' the deil he'll appear.''
   The old proverb had scarcely left Charlie's lips, when, all at
once, they beheld three pages in black livery standing ranged
before the gate, although the moment before there was no
living creature there. They seemed to have arisen out of the
ground, and as they rose they bowed their heads in a sarcastic
way to the embassy. The appearance of the pages, and the
motion that they made were both accomplished in the same
moment of time, and at the motion every one of the horses
broke away, like so many scared wildfowl, some one way, and
some another. Charlie tried to restrain Corby with the whole
might of his capacious arm; but the impatient animal plunged
and bounded into the air with such violence, that his rider
was obliged to give him head, and away he sprung like a roe
over field and river, straining every nerve to be out of sight of
Aikwood, while Charlie's warrior cloak, that hung only by the
shoulder clasp, flapped so far behind him that he appeared like
a black cloud skimming the valley. Though none of the other
horses made equal speed with Corby, every one ran as fast as
it could, and all to the eastward, though far asunder.
   The mule, on the contrary, never moved nor concerned him-
self about the matter. He indeed held forward his long ears,
and took a serious look of the pages, as of some sort of beings
he did not more than generally understand. Nevertheless he
despised them, and looked about with apparent astonishment
and derision at the madness and folly of his associates. The
friar, finding himself left with his mule and the three pages
thus unaccountably, began to address the latter; but they
only imitated his motions, and made wry faces, without re-
turning him any answer. The mule had by this time taken
another serious look at them, and disliking them exceedingly,
he sidled towards them with all his mettle, and tried to hit
them with his heels. The urchins then raised such an eldritch
laugh that they made the arches of the castle to ring, and,
skipping about and about, provoked the mule to farther vio-
lence. He, on his part, was nothing loth to attack; he ran
open-mouthed at one, kicked at another, and tried to crush
another up against the gate, all to the great annoyance of the
friar, who, with the utmost difficulty kept his seat for a good
while, in spite of the mad evolutions of his provoked and
provoking beast. But the game once begun was not suffered
to subside. The giggling elves, with the swiftness of lightning,
skipped about, and, in whatever direction the mule darted,
one of them was always pricking him behind. The worthy
friar waxed very wroth, and swore by the life of Pharaoh that
he would execute vengeance on them. But the noise of mirth
and mischief waxed louder and louder, until the austere in-
mates of the castle heard; and the great Master said to his only
attendant, ""Gourlay, what is the meaning of all this uproar?''
   ""It is only Prig, Prim, and Pricker,'' said he, ""making sport
with a mendicant friar and his ass.''
   ""Are they killing him?'' enquired his Master, with the
greatest composure, and without lifting his eyes from a
large book that lay before him.
   ""I wot not, sire,'' said Gourlay, with the same indifference.
   ""Ay, it is no matter,'' returned the Master; ""It will keep
them in employment a little while.''
   ""Perhaps,'' said Gourlay,--and retired back to the casement
with sullen step.
   By this time the mule had become so outrageous, that he
wheeled, kicked, and plunged, like one of the furies; and, at
the last, in spite of all the friar could do, laid him fairly on
his back, amid the frantic shrieks and gibberish of his tormen-
tors. Gourlay beheld the incident from the crevice of the
turret, and, not daring to discompose the great Master, he
walked down to the gate to witness the sport at a shorter
distance; though with a callous indifference about the matter,
and without the least hope to enjoy it.
   When he came nigh to the scene of action, he looked as if
he expected the friar to have been dead, and was rather as-
tonished when he saw him raise his head, and utter a solemn
anathema against the pages, who fled back as if awed and over-
come. The seneschal not comprehending this, turned his pale
glazed cheek toward the friar, elevated his brow as if looking
at the verge of the high hill beyond the river, and stood mo-
tionless, stealing a side glance, now and then, of the stranger.
   The latter raised up his gruff face, inflamed with passion,
and, seeing the tall ungainly figure of Gourlay standing like a
statue, with a red turban on his head, and a grey frock or
mantle, that in ample folds covered him from the neck to the
sandals, took him at once for the mighty enchanter, and
addressed him with as little respect as might be.
   ""If thou art the lord of this mansion, draw near unto me,
that I may tell thee of the deeds of thy servants, which eat
thy bread, and stand at thy gate. Lo, have they not lifted up
the hand against my life, who am a stranger, and a servant of
him against whom thou hast rebelled and lifted up the heel?
Go to; thou art a churl, and a derision, and a byeword among
thy kindred and people, and not worthy to be called by their
name. I came unto thy gate in peace, on a message of peace,
and the words of peace were in my mouth; and why hast
thou suffered these children of the wicked one to maltreat
and abuse me? Why dost thou not open thy mouth?''
   The pages chattered with a malicious laugh at a distance,
and the seneschal came stalking near, in a sort of confused
astonishment, to take a nearer view of this talking pheno-
menon. He came and looked over him without altering a
muscle of his face; and the friar, irritated by pain and the
contempt shewn toward his sufferings, went on. At any other
time he would haply have been chilled by the pale frigid
countenance, shagged beard, and glazed unearthly eye that
were now bent over him; but in the present state of his feel-
ings he disregarded them; and, though convinced that he
spoke to the mighty enchanter himself, continued his haran-
gue : --
   ""Come thou near unto me that I may curse thee. Thou
child of all unrighteousness, art thou not already cursed
among the children of men? Where are the wealth and the
cheerfulness, where are the welcome, and the faces of joy and
mirth, that are to be met with at the houses of thy kinsmen
whose bread I eat? Where the full basket and the welcome
store? the wine that giveth its colour in the glass? the sounds
of mirth and gladness? the sounds of the song, the viol, and
the harp? And where is thy tongue, that thou canst not speak?''
cried the friar, elevating his voice to its highest and most im-
patient tones.
   ""Humph,'' said Gourlay.
   ""Humph!'' returned the friar; ""What dost thou mean by
humph? Tell me, in one word, Art thou the lord of this
castle?''
   ""No; but his seneschal,'' said Gourlay. ""What hast thou
to say?''
   ""Then lead me to thy master, that I may see him face to
face, and tell him the words of him that sent me. I will not
be afraid of these dogs of thine and thy master's. What is
become of thy tongue that thou dost not speak? Tell me, I
say, can I see thy master?''
   ""Perhaps,'' said Gourlay; and, seizing the friar by the shoul-
der with a rude but powerful grasp, he dragged him in at the
gate.
   ""With-hold thine hand, and thy unmannerly grasp,'' said
the friar,--""else I will smite thee with the sword.''
   The seneschal regarded this threat only with a grim un-
meaning smile; and as he held the friar by the right arm so
firmly that he even lost the power of it, it was impossible for
him to draw his sword.
   ""Nay but hearken unto me,'' continued he; ""surely it is
better for thee to live than to die. Therefore bring in my beast
that he may have provender; and let me also bring my goods
and my changes of raiment along with me in peace, else how
shall I set up my face before thy master?''
   The seneschal then paused, and motioned with his hand to
the pages to bring the panniers; they ran to obey, but as soon
as any of them touched the huge wallet, he hastened back and
fell to the ground.
     Vermin! cannot you bring the furniture?'' cried Gourlay.
   They shook their heads, and stood at a distance.
   ""Humph!'' said he, ""I do not comprehend this,'' and lead-
ing the friar back, still holding him fast by the arm, he suf-
fered him to lift the panniers himself, which he did with good
will, and then allowed himself to be led away by the uncour-
teous seneschal, who said to the pages as he departed, ""See
to the vile animal!''
   Without more ado he led the friar in, and pushing him
rudely into a small vaulted apartment, he locked first a pon-
derous iron door, and then a massy wooden one, full of nails,
upon him; and, without regarding his complaints or anathe-
mas, or deigning a word in reply to his queries, he left him to
his own bitter reflections.
   The apartment at first appeared to be dark, but on looking
about he found that there were two grated loop-holes in it,
and by the light from these he soon perceived that there was
nothing in the place save the skeleton of a man of uncommon
stature and dimensions. The bones were lying flat on the
floor, every one in its place exactly as the man had died, and
the flesh wasted away from them. No disarrangement had
taken place, nor was the smallest joint wanting. This was a
petrifying sight to the poor friar, who, crossing himself, and
turning from the horrible spectacle, set his nose through the
grating and looked out on the fields.
   The first thing be beheld confounded him more than all he
had ever seen in his life. The three devilish pages were tam-
pering with his mule to bring him within the outer gate; but
he, in his usual manner, proved refractory as ever, and laid
about him with all his might. On this, the boys in one mo-
ment whipped him up in their arms, and ere the friar could
draw his breath, far less utter a Pater-Noster, they set him
down in the middle of the court, straight before the friar's
grating, and tied him to the shaft of a well with a strong rope.
The friar said a Benedicite; and, ere he had done, the devilish
and provoking imps began to torment the poor mule beyond
all sufferance, whipping him round and round the post, and
making him fling and jump till the blood and sweat were pour-
ing together from his branded sides, and he was no more able
to resent the injuries committed on him. The friar fumed, and
threatened, and cursed them in the name of the blessed saints;
but they only laughed him to scorn: And when the mule
could no longer resent the lash, they brought red-hot spindles
and pushed them between his hind-legs, which made him
fling and rear till he fell down at the post, and lay groaning,
unable any more to move.
   The thing that provoked the friar worst of all was the sight
of the tall seneschal standing looking on, and seeming, by his
motions, to be directing the game. Never was such a flood of
eastern eloquence heard at Aikwood, as was poured from the
small crevice in the bottom of the eastern turret that evening.
No one, however, regarded it, or, if they did, it was only to
mock or mimic the sublime deprecator.
   To all that he said, the seneschal pinned a smile of grim
disdain, and motioned to the pages to redouble their sport,
which they did, till, as said, the poor animal could furnish
them with no more.
   The friar now beheld a joyful sight through the twilight,
the rest of his companions coming on foot towards the gate.
They had gathered together at the mill, about a mile to the
eastward of the castle, and made another attempt to approach
it on horseback; but their efforts were vain; not a steed would
come one step farther than just in view of it; so they agreed
to put their horses up at the mill, leaving them in charge of
the miller and his two sons, and to proceed on foot to the
castle, to join their mysterious associate the friar, whose
magical might some of them began to dread, and others to
trust.
   Gourlay beheld them approaching as well as did the friar,
and again waited on the great Master with awe and trembling.
   ""I pray thee, mighty Master, to forgive me,'' said he, ""but
too true is it that the wretched pedagogue has said,--for here
come a body of the warden's friends, with swords in their
hands, and one beautiful human thing in their company.''
   ""And what then?'' said Michael, in a stern, hollow voice.
   The seneschal trembled. ""I--I--only want to know how they
are to be received,'' said he.
   ""Received?'' cried the Master, raising his voice to a pitch
that made the old wretch shrink as it were within himself.
""Received? As spies should, to be sure. Begone!''
   Gourlay ran cowering toward the door.
   ""Stop.--Come back here. What forces are in the castle?''
   ""What forces? Hem! Great Master, you only know.
   ""Any things of flesh, I inquire?''
   ""No, not one; if you except the old witch Henbane. Oh! I
beg your pardon, great and honoured master! I meant your
worthy and respectable housekeeper.''
   Michael gave three gentle tramps with his heel, and in one
moment the three pages in black livery, Prig, Prim, and Pricker,
were at his knee.
   ""Work, Master, work. What work now?'' said they all in one
breath.
  ""Give your master there a toasting for his insolence,'' said
Michael.
  The pages giggled for joy; the seneschal kneeled and roared
out for mercy, and, as a motive for granting it to him, said
the strangers were at the gate. The pages had already laid their
fangs on him; but the Master, on the arrival of the strangers
being brought to his mind, ordered the imps to desist. This
they did on the instant; but, without delay, rushed on Michael
himself, as if they would tear him to pieces. He threatened,
cursed, and dared them to touch him; but they seemed no-
thing daunted by all he said, but danced around him with
demoniac gestures, crying still out with one voice:--

                    ""Work. Master, work; work we need;
                    Work for the living, or for the dead:
                    Since we are called, work we will have,
                    For the master, or for the slave.
                    Work, Master, work. What work now?''

  ""Miserable wight that I am!'' cried the mighty Master.
""Then, d--d dwarfs, since it must be so, bring the slave back,
and let him have three varieties, and no more.''
  Gourlay had made his escape with all expedition, but it
was not long ere they overtook him, and brought him back,
leading him in the most grotesque manner that can well be
conceived. They then began to twirl him about, first with his
face one way and then another; and, latest adventures making
the strongest impressions on their wicked imaginations, by
some devilish slight they transformed him into the shape of a
mule, and practised on him all the wanton cruelties they had
so lately done on the friar's, seeming to enjoy the sport all
the while with redoubled zest. They next changed him into a
dog; and, tying a cannister, containing some small stones to
his tail, they pursued him round and round the room, and
finally out into the yard, with long whips, every one breaking
at him, and giving him a lash as he came by. This caused him
always now and then to exert himself with such speed that
the cannister was sometimes hitting him on the head with a
loud rattling yerk, sometimes on the back, and all over the
body, while the poor steward was running, yelping in the
uttermost desperation. The friar beheld part of the sport
from his grate, but little wist that it was the hated seneschal
that was suffering, else he would have doubtless enjoyed the
scene in no ordinary degree. The rest of the embassy also saw
it from the outer gate, where they now stood rapping and
calling without being regarded, the pages being too intent on
their game to pay the least attention to such as they.
   ""Let alane the poor tike, like good lads,'' cried muckle
Charlie, ""and come and open the yett. What ill has the silly
beast done to you?''
   ""They bring me in mind o' Jock Harper's terriers,'' said
Gibbie, ""that wad rather do ill for the sake o' doing it, than
do ought that was good or right for a' the warld.''
   ""I hate to see a colley-shangie,'' said the poet; ""there is
nothing sublime or romantic in it.''
   ""They're nae canny couts thae three chaps,'' said Charlie;
""Corby wadna look at them, and he kens things gayan weel.
We maun just hae a wee patience till they be done wi' their
chace. It's a queer kind o' place this.''
   The poor metamorphosed steward, finding no rest for the
sole of his foot, betook him again to the staircase, and crept
down at his master's feet, deeming the chastisement to have
been over. But he was no sooner there than the pages were
after him, and by the time they had whirled him three times
about, he started up a hare, and the three pages, turning them-
selves into colley dogs set all upon him.
   With the form of every quadruped into the shape of which he
was turned, he seemed to acquire its nature and antipathies, and
in none was it so striking as in the hare. When the collies began
to snap at him, his terror is not to be imagined; he darted
round and round the hall like lightning, breaking out and in to
Michael's study, to the great disarrangement of his conjuring
apparatus, books, and papers; while every time that a colley
sprung with open mouth at him, he uttered a desperate scream.
   This was the only one of their frolics that appeared to
amuse the great Master, his partiality for the sports of the
chase being proverbial to this day. When he saw the old
seneschal laying back his long ears, and exerting his powers
of speed in such manifest terror, and the malignant collies
whinking after him, and waylaying him in every strait, making
him often spring aloft, he could not help laughing outright,
and baiting the dogs on him. The tears stood in the old hare's
eyes when he heard this, nevertheless his fright made him
agile; he bolted from the halls and alleys of the castle into the
extensive yard; and there was such a hunt! Michael and the
friar both ran to their respective windows to see the sport, and
our party at the outer gate shouted and hallooed with great
energy. Many a time did the dogs get a snap at the steward,
and make him scream out, while all the onlookers laughed
aloud. At length, thinking he would actually be worried, he
cleared the wall, and made a bold effort to gain the wood. But
these were a trio of dogs from which there was no possibility
of escape. Ran he fast or ran he slow, there were they after
him, snatching at his hips and panting sides, and yelping so
keenly all the while that the seneschal had no doubt of being
torn in pieces should they fairly seize him. They turned him,
and made him trace many an acute angle on the hill, while our
party were running after him, throwing always sticks or stones
at the steward, as he hasted by them, and baiting the dogs on
him. Finding, as formerly, no other resource, he returned
with main speed to the castle, and crept down at the Master's
feet, who, with one touch of his divining rod, changed him
into his own native forbidding form.
   He started up in great wrath; and, though panting so that
he could scarcely speak, swore a horrible oath, that he would
no longer be kept in bondage and maltreated in that manner;
and that, since it was impossible for him to escape in any
other way, he would cut his own throat, and run his chance
of an after life.
   ""Poor dastardly braggart!'' said Michael; ""not for the soul
that inhabits that old malicious frame, dare you do such a
thing. I would seize on it, and make sport of it for ages. I have
you wholly in my power, and, dead or alive, it is the same
thing to me. Were you to do as you say, and take away your
life by a ghastly wound, I could even make one of these
fiendish spirits enter into your body, reanimate it, and cause
you to go about with your gaping wound, unclosed and un-
purified, as when death entered thereat. Think of what an
existence that would be, and then go and put your miserable
threat into execution.''
   ""Hah! There it is!'' said Gourlay: ""Turn me as I will, I see
nothing but wretchedness. Cursed be the day that I saw you,
and ten times cursed the confession I made, that has thus
subjected me to your tyranny! However, use me another day
as you have used me on this, and you do it at your peril, if
you were the devil himself. I have warned you.''
   Michael only smiled contemptuously at the threat; and
again asked what living creatures were in the castle, as he
wanted a retinue to receive the message of his kinsmen.
   ""I have told you already,'' said Gourlay, in the same
passionate and irritated mood; ""and I again repeat it, that
there is no mortal thing in the castle, but the old witch, and
perhaps two or three hundred rats.''
   ""Take that in the first place then,'' said Michael, ""for
your impertinence,''--at the same time laying him flat on the
floor by a tremendous blow, although he only moved his hand
toward the steward; ""and in the next place go call out these
three hundred rats you talk of, marshal them up in the
court, and receive the mighty warden's people with all manner
of pomp and respect, and use them according to their
demerits.''
   The steward roared out with pain; and gnashing his teeth
with rage, he arose growling, and was hasting away, when the
Master asked him if he was going to accomplish what he had
bidden him do.
   ""Without doubt;'' said he, ""Is it not very likely that I shall
be able?''
   ""Take that then,'' said the Master, ""and put it above the
lock-hole of the door; it shall serve you as a summons, and
Prig, Prim, and Pricker shall marshal your array.'' With that
he gave him a small piece of parchment written in red charac-
ters, which the steward snatched angrily out of his hand, and
going down the stair did as the Master had ordered him.
   The charm was effective, and its effects momentary. The
bustling and the screaming of rats were heard in every corner
of the castle, and forthwith a whole column of men marched
out into the court in three files, led by the three pages, and
headed by the incensed seneschal in his grey mantle and cap.
   Our messengers looked mightily astonished when they be-
held such a retinue, and Charlie observed that ""it was a con-
founded shame for Mr Michael no to join the warden, and
had sae mony idle men lying tholing starvation beside him.''
But then looking wildly around on both sides to his friends,
he added, ""God's grace be about us! wha kens but a' thae
may be spirits or elves in the shapes o' men? I think they hae
unco queer musty-like looks. An I had Corby here he wad
soon tell me wi' a vengeance.''
   Old Gourlay, now at the head of his corps, demanded what
the strangers wanted; and on being informed who they were,
and that they came on a special commission to the Master,
they were admitted, and walked up a lane between two ranks
of armed men in full caparison.
   The Master beheld them from his casement, and was
mightily diverted by the whimsical appearance of the various
individuals that formed the group, two of whom he conceived
to be the most beautiful creatures he had ever seen. Whoever
reads this will at once guess who these two lovely beings
were; but if he does, he will at once guess wrong. It would
seem that a wizard sees every thing in this fair and beautiful
creation through an inverted medium, and that all the common
and fine feelings of nature are in him changed and distorted.
The beauty of the two young captives appeared, in Michael's
eyes, hateful, and even affected him with loathing; but two
more lovely and engaging creatures than Jordan and the Deil's
Tam he had never seen on earth. The hooked nose, wrinkled
face, and mouth from ear to ear of the laird, he thought
exquisite; but Tam's long coulter nose, turned up in front,
his small grey eyes, and shapeless physiognomy, were beyond
all expression engaging. So, from the time that the Master got
the first look of them, he determined, contrary to his usual
custom, to see and converse with his guests.
   They were soon conducted to the door of the vault,
in which their friend the friar was immured; and, as soon as
the door opened, he exclaimed, with a loud voice, ""I charge
you, O my brethren, and my companions, that ye come
not into this place, nor set a foot within its boundaries;
for the place is a place of death, and the bones of the dead
men are in it.''
   There is no deciding what these words might have produced,
had they been pronounced in time; but as soon as Charlie and
the laird, who were foremost, heard the friar's voice, they
rushed towards him without thought or fear of the conse-
quences, and, ere he had done, the hindmost were pushed in
by the relentless arm of the seneschal, and the iron door
closed behind them. Perceiving how matters stood, the friar
straight lifted up his hands, and continued to declaim in a
still more fervent stile.
   ""Hout! Gude Lord, friar man, haud your tongue,'' said
Charlie interrupting him: ""What signifies making sic a frase
as a' this? or what good will it do? I hae run mysel into mony
a priminary in my life, but I never fand that mony words did
muckle good. I trowed that ye had mair art about ye than to
be feared for a stane an' lime wa,' an' twa or three airn
staincheons. Pith can do muckle, but art can do mair.''
   Charlie meant the black art; but the friar taking him up in
another meaning, shook him by the hand and blessed him.
   It may not have occurred to the reader and it is not likely
it should, that this same friar was an English monk, the most
celebrated man of that age, then exiled from his country,
and obliged to skulk in disguise, for fear of being apprehended
and burnt as a wizard and necromancer. He was the greatest
philosopher and chemist of the age, the real inventor of gun-
powder, and many other wonderful discoveries, and, withal,
a pious and good man,--although one whose character was
tinctured with peculiarities so striking, that some took him
for a man crazed in his mind, but far more for a powerful
necromancer. His name is familiar to every man in the least
acquainted with the literature or the science of that age; but
while he remained in Scotland being always denominated the
gospel friar, we have judged it best to call him by that name.
If the reader has not discovered this, it is time he should know
it; and whether the friar was a necromancer or not, will
appear in the sequel.
   When the party got leisure to converse together, their first
words were expressive of the astonishment they laboured un-
der at sight of the warlike force kept up by the Master.
Charlie only testified his regret that there was not a right and
mutual understanding between him and the warden; but the
maid Delany was the first to remark that she did not think
they were right men, because their faces were all alike, and
their eyes were not like the eyes of any human being she had
ever before looked on. In this every one present acquiesced,
and great was their wonder how or whence that mighty armed
force had sprung; but they agreed that there was no contend-
ing with such numbers, of whatsoever nature they might be,
and that there was nothing for it but submitting to the Mas-
ter's will.
   The day light was by this time quite extinguished, but the
moon was up; and it being a hard frost, with a slight covering
of snow, or rime, it was nearly as light as some winter days.
Their damp, mouldy vault with the grisly skeleton lying at
the one side of it, shewed horridly dismal in the wan and
shadowy light, and threw a chillness over their hearts. They
hoped and looked long for dinner, and then for supper, but
neither of them came; nor did they hear or see any living
thing all that night, save the friar's mule, that had again got
to his feet, and stood at the post groaning and trembling of
cold. This was a grievous sight to the friar, for his heart was
moved for the sufferings of his poor beast; and in the bitter-
ness of his spirit he vented some anathemas against the un-
conscionable seneschal, saying,--""Verily if ever that son of
Belial fall into my hands, I will be unto him as Adramelech
and as Sharezer, and do unto him as they did to the father
that begat them.''
   Every time that Charlie looked out at the mule, he testified
a sort of inward satisfaction that his own trusty steed was not
brought into the same scrape, and sundry times said, ""Gude
faith, Corby kend better sense than coming into sic a place
as this is. He's as weel off down wi' the auld miller; He'll get
some pluffins o' seeds or dust, poor fallow. An they gie him
but water, I'm no feared for him, for there's plenty o' meat
yonder,--but he'll never do if they let him want water.''
   About two o'clock in the morning the seneschal entered
with a light, but had the precaution to lock the wooden door
before he opened the iron one. The prisoners had sat down
on the floor, and were leaning on one another; and, dismal as
their lodging was, some of them had fallen sound asleep.
Delany was leaning on the friar's breast, and the poet had laid
himself down behind her, and covered her with his mantle.
The rest were huddled together, so that they appeared to be
lying above one another; but all, or most of them, set up
their heads at the entrance of the steward.
   Tam was the first to address him. ""What's come o' our
supper, goodman, that you are coming toom-handed? Do
you no think it is time your guests had something to eat,
or hae ye naething either to eat or drink in this great gousty
castle? I dinna care what ye may think, or what you may
say; but in my opinion you and your master baith are
naething but twa illbred unmannerly niggards.''
   The seneschal grinned disdain, and clenched his teeth in
wrath. He was about to reply, but all their tongues were
loosed on him at once, some complaining of one thing some
of another, and the friar more particularly of the treatment
of his beast. All, however, ended with a request for meat.
   ""No,'' said Gourlay; ""we have no meat for spies and fora-
yers. A halter is the only guerdon we bestow on such dogs. I
want this fair maiden, and for the rest of you''--He finished
the sentence with a sneer and a point with his finger to the
bones; and seizing the maid by the shoulder, he dragged her
toward the door.
   ""Softly sir, and if you please,'' said the poet, speaking in
pure iambics, and seizing the bars of the iron door before the
steward and his prize. ""We have indeed this maiden brought,
from distant camp and knight renowned, unto the master of
this house; and to none else we give her up: No, not to thee,
nor arm of flesh.''
   As the poet said these words, he bristled up, and faced the
steward at the door, to keep him back; but the carl gave him
such a blow on the temples that he staggered and fell. The
friar then interposed, and though he was a strong and power-
ful man, the irascible steward plied his blows so fast and so
hard about his bare pate, that he was also overthrown. The
maiden screamed; and the old incendiary was within a hair-
breadth of having her outside of the iron door, when she
would have been wholly out of the power of her friends and
protectors. But at that critical instant Charlie Scott seized the
steward by the arm, never doubting but that he would twist
him like a willow; but he was mistaken. The churl seized him
by the throat with his left hand, with such prodigious force
that Charlie deemed him to have the strength of six common
men, and lending him a blow on the face, he made his mouth
and nose to gush blood. Charlie returned the salute with in-
terest, yet the steward stood his ground, and a most desperate
struggle ensued, in which victory appeared doubtful. Gibby
perceiving his friend and champion's jeopardy, drew out his
sword, and was going deliberately to stick the old ragamuffin
behind, had not Charlie called out furiously to him to forbear.
   ""Keep back your whittle, you cowardly dog,'' cried he,
""else I'll cut you into a thousand pieces. I never yet took
odds against a man, nor shall I now, unless I am fighting wi'
the devil. In that case I may measure my backbreadth on the
floor. But be he the devil, be he dicken, I shall gie him ae
squeeze.''
   Charlie with that closed with his dangerous opponent, and
gave him such a squeeze that he made his back and ribs to
crash. The steward twisted his face into the most hideous
contortions, and exerted his whole force to extricate himself,
but Charlie brought him to the ground, falling upon him with
all his ponderous weight. It was among the bones of the gigan-
tic skeleton that the two combatants fell; and Charlie, deeming
that he had given his foe enough for once, and a little startled
to find himself among the rattling bones, began to unloose
his grasp, and said in a hurried way, ""Billy, I'll learn you how
to strike fo'k on the gab and the brigg o' the nose sae rashly!''
and was getting up as fast as he could, when the steward gave
him such a blow with the thigh-bone of the dead man, that
he had very nigh brought him down again. If Charlie's bonnet
had not had a bar or two of steel, that blow would have
shattered his skull. As it was it stunned him a little, and made
the water start into his eyes; and he had just recollection and
strength sufficient to secure his adversary's arms, by holding
them down, so that he might not repeat the blow. Yet, with
all this Charlie's temper was not to be ruffled. He cared not
how often or how much he fought, but he never fought in
wrath.
   ""Gude faith, my man,'' said he, ""but ye're no nice o' your
chapping sticks! and foul fa' me gin ye dinna lay them gayan
freely on. But I dinna blame ye. A wight man never wants a
weapon; only come that gate again an ye dare.''
   The steward growled and cursed, trying all that he could
to throw Charlie from above him, and master him by sheer
strength. He had no idea of being overpowered by a single arm,
nor was he wont to fear half a dozen, but he had never met
with the like of Charlie Scott before. He might as well have
tried to remove the hill of Aikwood; so he was obliged to
succumb, which he did with a very bad grace; nor would he
either abate one inch in his demand of having the damsel
unconditionally, or grant one request that they desired of
him.
   ""Why, then, there's nae help for it, honest man,'' said
Charlie; ""I hae ye firm and fast, and what ye winna gie us we
maun e'en tak at our ain hand. Honest friar, come you here,
and tak' a' the keys o' the castle aff this camstary hallansha-
ker, and we'll e'en help oursels to sic as we can get. I sal tak
care that he sanna move a spauld against you, and as for his
tongue we maun just let it wag.''
   The rage of the seneschal, when he saw himself robbed of
the keys of the castle, is not to be described: he cursed and
raged in such a manner, that, even after the friar had both
doors fairly open, Charlie durst not move from off him, or
let him go, for fear of some deadly scaith.
   ""I dinna ken what I'm to do wi' this deil's buckie,'' said he;
""he's like the tod's whelps, that grow aye the langer the waur.''
   ""I wad gie him a settler,'' said Tam.
   ""He brings me in mind o' a barrel o' beer, fuming and
fuffing. He'll no settle till he be pierced,'' said Gibbie.
   The friar then took up his bulky baggage, and walked out
with that and the light, meaning to bring his mule's halter
wherewith to bind the seneschal; but Charlie, making his
escape from him, locked him in,--and thus were our messen-
gers left in the full and free possession of the castle of
Aikwood.
                         CHAPTER XIV

             The lady looked o'er the castle wa',
                She looked both pale and wan;
             For the door was locked, and the lord within,
               He was no Christian man.
                                  <1Song of May Marley>1

WHEN the steward saw that he was fairly mastered, and that
neither strength nor words could avail him ought, he remained
where he was in sullen silence. He had got no orders from
the Master to bring him the maid, but it had come into his
head to go and take her to himself, and he had nearly effected
his purpose. What might have been the consequence of his
success, it is painful even to calculate; but he was thus pre-
vented, though not without blood and wounds.
  The guests now traversed all the lower apartments of the
castle, there being neither bolt nor bar to interrupt them; but
for all the retinue that they had seen at their arrival, there
was neither the appearance of man nor beast remaining. The
large hall did not seem to have been occupied for a long
period. The shelves were empty, and there were neither
dishes nor fragments of meat of any description; and every
thing within as well as without the castle had the appearance
of desolation.
  At length they came to a door, from the bottom of which
they perceived some light issuing, of which they were glad, as
they were afraid the steward's lamp would fail them and
leave them in darkness. Deeming themselves on ticklish
ground, they consulted in a whisper before venturing in.
Charlie Scott was quite a fearless man among his fellow
creatures, but all kinds of supernatural agency pressed
heavily on his conscience. Therefore, in the present instance,
he dissuaded his comrades from entering, with all his elo-
quence.
  ""Gude faith, callans, keep back off that place. It is may-be
the warlock's room; and gin he should be in the mids o'
some o' his cantrips at this eiry time o' the morning, gude
sauf us! it is a question what might be the upshot. Na, na,
friar; I tell ye, bide back, it is best to let sleeping dogs lye,
for fear they get up and bite you.''
  But the friar's creed differed from that of Charlie, and he
went dauntlessly forward, putting him aside with his hand,
and saying at the same time, that he would ""surely go in
unto him as with a front of brass or of iron;'' that sooner or
later the time and the season of their meeting must come, and
why should he be dismayed?
   The friar then opened the door with caution, and entered,
followed by all his associates, Charlie Scott bringing up the
rear, and whispering to those next him in a tremulous voice,--
""Od that body's mad! He'll lead us into some ill-faur'd
snapper. Dinna be ower rash, callans. Just look afore ye.''
   Instead of the great enchanter, however, they found only
an old woman, so busily engaged with something on the fire,
that she scarcely deigned to regard them as they entered.
She had a wooden tube, like the barrel of a gun, with which
she blew up her fire; and she kept blowing at it till the flame
came above the lip of her caldron, and let her see into it; for
she had no lamp, nor any other light save that which came
from the fire.
   When she had made it blaze thus high, she spoke to her-
self, and without taking her mouth from the tube; saying
some words to the following purport:--

          ""Sotter, sotter, my wee pan,
            To the spirit gin ye can;
            When the scum turns blue,
            And the blood bells through,
            There's something aneath that will change the man.''

   When Charlie saw her unchristian-like face, and heard her
mumbling these horrid words through her long hollow tube,
he turned his back and fled, taking shelter in a void entrance,
to which he was led by some light that fell into it from the
rays of the moon. Full hardly was he then bested, for he still
deemed that he heard the witch's rites at a distance; and the
faint ray of the moon through a narrow aperture made the
rest of the space appear so shadowy and dim, that Charlie
saw he was in a dangerous situation, and actually began to
fancy he beheld a face in the dark staring at him, and still
coming nearer. It was no time to stand there; so he fled with
all his might. But in his dismay he lost every kind of aim, or
consideration whither he was going, and at once stumbled on
the undermost step of a stone stair. Thinking the apparition
he had seen was by that time hard upon him, and no other
way that he knew of open for flight, he rose and pursued his
course straight up stairs, in a state of perturbation hardly to
be accounted for. The first landing place that he came to he
ran himself against a door, and not finding farther entrance
he faced about, and, leaning over the balluster, he set up such
a yell as never was before breathed from lungs. It is true he
neither heard nor saw aught of the apparition; but Charlie
was a sensible man, and he was certain it might be there for
any thing that he knew; so he set up the same kind of cry
that he was wont to do when he lost his neighbours in a mist,
or in a night foray, only about ten times or so louder.
   ""Hilloa! Tam Craik! friar! hilloa! d--n yea'; what for winna
ye come wi' a light?''
   Charlie was now at such a distance from his comrades, who
were still in the witch's small apartment, and the echoes of the
huge void castle so confused the sounds, that they took the
cries of their captain for the rushing of a whirlwind roaring
through the crannies of the castle, and paid no regard to
them. No state could be more deplorable than that in which
muckle Charlie Scott was now placed. To have returned down
the stair would have been meeting the devil face to face; or,
as Charlie much better expressed it, ""to hae dabbed nebs wi'
the deil.''
   He had therefore no other resource than to bellow out for
assistance; and seeing none approach, he said aloud in great
agony of spirit, ""Lord, gin I were but on Corby's back again!
ay, though it were in the wildest glen o' a' the Cheviots, and
the Eskdale souple o'er my shoulder,'' (that was the cant
name of Charlie's tremendous sword;) ""I might then work my
way: But sic a place as this I saw never! Od, an there be lugs
within the wa's o' the house I shall either gar them hear or
crack them- Hilloa!''
   Not satisfied with giving yelloch after yelloch, as he termed
his loud cries, he flew to every door on the landing place,
laid on it with his fists, and kicked it with his foot, calling at
each of them in the same key as before, ""Is there ony body
here?'' He at last prevailed: one door was opened, and he was
admitted inside. But, alas for our gallant yeoman! he only
by this transition got out of one exceedingly bad scrape into
a worse.

   These casual separations of <1dramatis personae>1 are exceed-
ingly unfortunate for the story-teller who aims at conciseness
and brevity; because it is impracticable to bring them all on
at the same time. A story is like a waggoner and his horses
travelling out the king's highway, his machine loaden with
various bales of rich merchandise. He goes smoothly and
regularly on, till he comes to the bottom of a steep ascent,
where he is obliged to leave a great proportion of his loading,
and first carry one part of it to the top of the hill, then
another, and then another, which retards him grievously on
his way. So it is with the writer of a true history such as this;
and the separation of parties is as a hill on his onward path.
   It is otherwise with dramatic representations, and in these
the authors have a great advantage.  Let their characters
separate as they will, or be engaged as they will, they can at
any time, with the greatest ease, be brought together on the
stage. The one enters from the one side, and the other from
the other, and we do not much concern ourselves how or
whence they come, taking it for granted that they are there,
and that is enough. It is rather delightful to see a hero, in
whom one had begun to take some interest, and whom he
supposed to be far distant, exposed to dangers abroad and
perfidy at home, all at once stalk majestically in from the
side scene, and take his place before our eyes. It gives the
heart a great deal of relief to see and know that he is there
in person to stand up for his own injured rights. But in our
own case there is no such expedient. Like the waggoner, we
must return from the top of the hill, and bring up those of
our characters that are left behind. At present we must return
from the top of the great stair-case in Aikwood castle, into
the housekeeper's cell on the ground floor.
   Charlie had made his escape almost unobserved; those next
to him weening that he had only drawn a little back to keep
a due distance between the witch and him, so that they
pressed forward to the scene without regarding him.
   The crone continued her orgies, blowing her fire one
while, and again stirring the liquid in the caldron; then making
it run from the end of a stick, that she might note its state
of gelidity. The friar addressed her in his usual stile of
sonorous eastern eloquence; but she only regarded him by a
slight stare, and a motion with her hand, as if she wished him
and his group to disappear. She had taken them for spirits
that she had conjured up, and perhaps thought they were
come before the time; for in mumbling to herself, they at one
time heard her saying, ""So you are all there, are you? Well,
I shall find you work. Sotter, sotter my wee pan.''
   This scene went on for a considerable time without any
variety, the witch attending solely to her caldron and her
fire; the friar standing before the flame, and Tam and Gibbie,
with their long kipper noses, peeping over his shoulder. The
other three were behind these; the poet with his arm round
Delany's waist, and the beautiful face of the boy Elias, the
very picture of amazement personified, appeared below the
friar's right arm. Scarcely could such another group be formed
for the painter's eye. Here sat the witch, haggard and wild,
close at the one cheek of the fire, watching over her caldron
and infernal morsel with the utmost eagerness. There stood
the gruff friar, with the keys of the castle in his right hand,
and the dim lamp in his left, raised above his head; so that,
from the two groups of light, the marked features of amaze-
ment could be distinctly traced; which, with the faint and
yellowish hue of their complexions, made the whole highly
picturesque.
   The witch continued her occupation; till, at length holding
up her stick to note the consistence of her jelly, that appeared
like boiling blood and water mixed, there was something in
its appearance that confounded her. She dropt both her tube
and her stirring stick among the ashes, and turned about
staring wildly at our group. She appeared as if examining their
features one by one in search of some one whose presence she
missed; and perceiving the boy's face below the friar's arm,
she fixed her eyes on that, cowering down at the same time
like a cat that is about to spring on its prey. Then, rising half
up, she moved toward him in a stooping posture, turning
always her face first to the one side and then to the other,
until her nose came almost in contact with the boy's on
which he slipped his face out of her sight behind the friar's
back. Observing next the two droll faces over the friar's two
shoulders, she appeared delighted with the view; and letting
her jaws fall down, she smiled at it, but it was rather a gape
than a smile. She then tottered again towards the fire, rocking
her body and wagging her head as before, repeating the
while this unmeaning phrase:

                ""Niddy, noddy, niddy, noddy,
                  Three heads on ae body.''

   Haply she deemed all the three faces she had seen belonged
to the friar, and was happy at witnessing such a monstrous
appearance.
   Sitting down on her hams as before, she seized on her two
implements, and began to blow and stir for about the space of
a minute, testifying great impatience to see how her spell
proceeded. But the moment that she held up a part of her
morsel on the stick, and let it drip off, she perceived that all
was wrong, and that her guests were the reverse of those she
expected. As soon as she looked at the liquor, she uttered a
horrible scream, while every joint of her body shook with
fury; and, lifting a wooden ladle that lay by her side with
devilish nimbleness, she splashed the boiling liquid on the
faces and bodies of our amazed compeers.
   ""Deil be in the auld jaud's fingers!'' cried Tam: ""Gin she
hasna jaupit out baith my een!''
   ""I have indeed given my cheek to the firebrand!'' said the
friar; ""and the skin of my forehead hath departed from me!''
   ""She brings me a-mind o' my mither,'' said Gibbie--but he
got not time to proceed; for after she had exhausted the
contents of her caldron on the intruders, she attacked
them with burning coals and pieces of wood. These she
dashed among them with such desperate force, that part of
them sought refuge in retreat. Not so our redoubted friar. He
gave the lamp out of his hand to the laird, bidding him take
care of it, and turning his back towards her, and running
backward for fear of farther injury to his face and eyes, he
seized the witch by the frock, and putting his arm round
both hers to restrain them, he held her fast to his side. In
doing so, he uncovered the cross that hung at his girdle.
When she saw this, and that her body was pressed against it,
she uttered the most horrified howlings, and appeared to be
falling into convulsions. Nevertheless, the friar kept his hold.
He let her scream on, and, dragging her toward the door,
said unto her, ""Thou wicked one! as thy works have been, so
shall be thy reward; and as thou hast sown, so also shalt thou
reap. Come with me, and I will put thee into a place where
thou shalt cease from troubling.''
   Without more ado, he bore her away to the vault where
lay her surly and unyielding associate, beside his mass of dry
human bones; and forcing her in, he locked them up together,
saying, as he turned the massy bolt, ""Lo, the gates of iron
and of brass close upon thee! the bolts of steel are drawn
around thy dwelling!  There shalt thou remain, and there
shall thy flesh be consumed, unless thou repentest thee of the
evil that thou hast done.''
   There was a shrewd smile on the friar's face as he said this,
as of one who either did not mean to put his threat in exe-
cution, or marvelled how it was that he should thus be
lording it in the castle of Aikwood, and imprisoning whom he
would.
   Never till that instant did any of the party miss their friend
and champion, Charlie Scott; but when they turned from the
door of the prison to consult what was to be done next, be-
hold he was wanting. This caused them great dismay, but the
friar most of all.
   ""Wo is me!'' cried he: ""How is the mighty departed, and
the pillar of our strength moved out of its place! As well may
they take my head from my body, and say unto me live, as
bid us go on and prosper without that mighty man.''

   The poor waggoner must again return from the top of the
hill, and bring up the most important and weighty part of his
cargo; no less a load than muckle Charlie Scott, laird of
Yardbire, and the far famed warlock and necromancer,
Master Michael Scott.

   The mighty uproar that Charlie made at the head of the
stair, when he believed the devil to be on the steps, aroused
the great necromancer from his nocturnal experiments, all of
which were of an infernal kind. At such hours as these his
capacious mind was abstracted from all worldly concerns,
such as other mortals busy themselves about. If any thing
sublunary engaged his studies and calculations, it was how to
make the living die and the dead to live,--how to remove
mountains out of their places, to turn the sea into dry land,
and the fields into a billowy and briny ocean,--or in any way
counteract nature in her goings on. In some of these great
enterprises was he doubtlessly engaged that morning, when
the voice of Charlie Scott astounded his ears.
   Often had hosts of demons mustered at his call in the
castle of Aikwood, and the yelling sounds of the infernals
were no strangers to his ears; but never had he heard such a
potent voice before as that sent forth by Charlie, when he
conceived himself cooped up between the devil and a bolted
door. Conceived did I say? No: Charlie saw distinctly, by this
time, an indefinable being coming slowly up to him. Saint
Peter! as he did thresh the warlock's door. ""Is there any body
here? Hilloa! Open the door I say.'' Thump, thump, thump!
   The bolt inside was drawn, and, owing to the strong pressure
without, the door flew wide open at once. Charlie perceiving
the light, and fearless of ought but the figure behind him,
rushed into the room, and made toward the fire. The door
was instantly shut behind him with a loud and furious clash;
and Charlie then turning around, got the first look of the in-
mate. He was a boardly muscular man, somewhat emaciated
in his appearance, with a strong bushy beard that flowed to
his girdle, of a hue that had once been jet black, but was now
slightly tinted with grey. His eyes were uncommonly bright
and piercing, but they had some resemblance to the eyes of a
serpent. He wore on his head a turban of crimson velvet,
ornamented with mystic figures in gold, and on the front of
it was a star of many dazzling colours. The rest of his body
was wrapped in a mantle or gown, striped with all the hues of
the rainbow, and many more.
   Charlie's eye had lately been lighted up with terror, but as
it fell on the majestic figure of Master Michael Scott, its wild
gleam softened into respect, and he saluted him with his
quick, abrupt, border bow, which rather resembled the motion
made by a raven beckoning from his rock as he wakes the
surrounding echoes, than the slow and graceful courtesy then
so well understood among the great. Michael still kept his
erect posture at the back of the door, fixing on our yeoman
an indignant and angry glance. That look conjured up a little
more of Charlie's breeding; he doffed his steel bonnet with
the one hand, stroked down the hair of his forehead with the
other, and gave the master another bow, or rather a nod.
   ""Gude e'en t' ye, Sir; I fancy you're the lord o' this castle?''
said Charlie.
   ""You fancy so, do you?'' said the Master with a sneer; and
giving three tramps with his heel on the floor, in one moment
the three pages, Prig, Prim, and Pricker, stood beside him.
   ""Work, Master, work,--what work now?''
   ""Take that burly thief and housebreaker, bind him, and
put him to the test.''
   ""Stop short there, my good masters, till I speak t' ye, said
Charlie, ""I'm neither a housebreaker nor a thief, but a leel
man, our warden's kinsman, and your ain, Master Michael
Scott. I came here on fair and honourable service, and I have
been guidit waur than a tike; and I'll just tell you plainly, for
I'm rather an e'en-down chap, that if ane o' thae brats dare
but to touch me, I'll tak my hand aff his haffet in sic a way
that he sanna grene to lay foul finger on a gentleman again.''
   The three pages fell a giggling at this speech, and one of
them brushed forward and seized Charlie with a force of
which he had no conception. But he was one that never
suffered any personal attack with impunity. He drew a
stroke with his clenched fist, and aimed such a blow at the
page's head, that, if he had had a head like other pages,
would have smashed it to pieces. Charlie hit no head at all.
He struck a thing of nought. But the force of his arm was
such, that, about two yards farther on, he hit an apparatus
of curious construction, which he called ""a machine for
setting the wind on fire,'' and which he made to fly all in
flinders against the wall. The Master's eye kindled with rage;
but the three urchins, who delighted in nothing but mischief,
laughed still the louder, and pressed all forward on Charlie.
He had been a little astounded at missing the page's head;
but, being somewhat flustered, he had not leisure to reflect,
and his conceptions were naturally none of the most acute;
so, for the present, he took it for a miss. But seeing they
purposed to lay violent hands on him, he sprung back into
the middle of the room, in order to command weapon space;
and drawing out the Eskdale souple, he stood on the defen-
sive in a most determined posture.
   The pertinacious elves wheeled also backward, taking a
circle round behind the Master, and advanced on him all
abreast. Good Lord, with what might Charlie struck at them!
He came on them with a hew that he meant should cut them
all three through the middle at once. But he, a second time,
struck on vacancy. The sword whistled through the void,
taking Charlie round with it, and demolishing almost every
thing that was in the room. The pages screamed with delight,
but Michael foamed with fury. Charlie paid no regard either
to him or the devastation he had made among his utensils;
but, springing round the board to the other side of the room,
said, in a loud perturbed voice: ""Tell me just this ae thing,
Michael,--are thae three creatures deils? Because an they be
deils, I hae nae mair chance wi' them than a cat. But as for
yoursel, goodman, I ken ye are flesh and blood, and o' my
ain kith and kin,'' (and with that he seized Michael by the
throat,) ""therefore, either gar thae hellicats gang about their
business, or by Him that made us, I'll thraw your neck about.''
   Whether it was the might of the enchanter himself, or that
of his bond spirits, Charlie wist not; but in one moment after
that his feet were tripped from beneath him, and he was laid
on his back on the floor. There he was held by a might against
which his great strength could not prevail, bound with cords,
and stretched on the board. The Master and his familiars then
conversed in Latin, a language of which Charlie knew but
little, having never been at court; but he heard they were
conversing about his baptism. Charlie had not got much time
in his life to think about these sacred rites, yet he had always
held them in proper respect and veneration; and at that time
he blessed the hour he had been presented in holy church,
having strong hopes that on that account the powers of hell
would not prevail against him. The elves loosed his buff-belt,
and unclapsed his steel-doublet, laying his manly bosom
quite bare. The Master gave them directions in Latin, and
each of them went and brought a long knife with two edges,
sharp as a razor, and having a point like a lance.
   ""I didna trow that there had been ought sae misleared in
nature as this,'' said Charlie. ""It's no that I'm ony feared for
death. I hae looked him ower often i' the face to blench at
his ca': but I wad just hae liket to hae fa'en i' the field wi'
my sword i' my hand, and no to be cut up like a Christmas
pye, and carved a' into collops by a wheen damned deils.''
   One of them prepared to cut open his breast, and another
his belly; but a moment's dispute taking place between them
in some unknown tongue, about the mode, as Charlie believed,
he crossed himself as well as he could with his bound hands,
and pronounced a sacred name into himself. That instant he
perceived the pages fall a-trembling, and stand back; their
faces blenched with dread, and the weapons fell from their
hands. The Master was wroth, and ordered them to proceed, as
Charlie weened by his motions; but, instead of that, they
retired trembling into a corner. He snatched a knife from one
of them, as if determined to do the deed himself. Charlie
then deemed himself gone; for he had a sort of confused idea,
that, by certain laws of nature, and the use of holy rites,
wicked spirits were restrained, else mankind would be des-
troyed: ""But what law of nature, or what holy word or sign,''
thought he, ""can restrain the arm of a wicked man? It is my
duty to try, however,'' thought he again; and with that he
whispered a prayer to the Son of the Virgin, that He would
save a warrior from a death like this.
   Charlie's prayer was heard, short as it was; for at that very
moment, while yet the syllables hung on his lips, entered the
gruff figure of the friar, with the keys of the castle over his
arm, and followed by his associates.
   ""What seek you here, you dogs?'' cried the Master, turning
about with the great knife in his hand: ""Am I thus to have
my privacy disturbed, and my abode ravaged by a pack of
carrion hounds from the hills? Brave pages mine, bind them
all, and cut me them into a thousand pieces.''
   Scarcely was the order given ere they had the poet on the
floor, and bound with strong cords. The rest prepared to
escape; but the great enchanter placed his back to the door,
brandished his great knife, and dared them to approach him.
The mettledness of these pages cannot be conceived, far less
described; they seemed but to will a thing and it was done.
Ere ever one of the intruders had time to rally his thoughts,
or almost to think at all, three of them and the boy were all
lying bound in fetters. But when the imps came to seize on
the friar, they could not. They skipped about and about him,
but they had not power even to touch his frock. The virgin
stood behind him trembling; and on their feeling their want of
power over the friar, they turned to lay hold on her. But the
moment they touched her robe, they retired back in dismay.
   Michael looked as if he dreaded there was something
about these two that boded him no good; but he wist
not what it was, for he had never seen the prowess of his bond
spirits counteracted before; therefore he awaited the event
for a space, when he perceived them vanquished.
   The friar had time to rally his thoughts, and remembered
that the maid had the blessed gospel concealed in her bosom;
and judging that these were perhaps fiends with whom they
had to do, who durst not stand against the word of truth, he
drew his cross from below his frock,--that cross which had
been consecrated at the shrine of Saint Peter, bathed in holy
water, and blessed with many blessings from the mouths of
ancient martyrs--had done wonderous miracles in the hands
of saints of former days,--and lifting that reverendly up on
high, he pronounced the words from holy writ against which
no demon or false spirit's power could prevail. In one
moment all the three imps fled yelling from the apartment.
The countenance of the enchanter fell, and he quaked where
he stood; but the eye of the friar was kindled up with exul-
tation and joy.
   ""There worketh the hand of my master!'' exclaimed he:
""There have I trusted, and I am not, like thee, ashamed of my
trust. I have a strong-hold of hope, and it is founded on a rock,
but thy habitation trembleth beneath thee; and dost thou
know, or hast thou considered, what is underneath?''
   The friar then went up and loosed the bonds of his friend
Charlie, and of all the rest, one by one, exulting in his creed,
and pouring forth such sentences of sublime adoration as are
not suited for an idle tale.
   The Master at length took courage and rebuked him, saying,
""It is vain for thee, foolish dupe of a foolish creed, to multiply
such great swelling words of vanity. What though thy might
hath, for once, prevailed above my might, and thy spell
proved more powerful than mine? I will engage, nevertheless,
that in nine times out of ten, mine, on fair trial, shall prevail
over thine. And at all events I can at this time call in the arm
of flesh to my assistance, and do with you whatever seemeth
to me good.
   ""Ay, gude faith, and that's very true, Master Michael Scott,''
said Charlie: ""and that we saw wi' our ain een. It is great
nonsense to quarrel with the lord of a castle aneath his ain
roof, although, I confess, I was the first to do it mysel'. But
there's an auld saying, wha wad sit i' Rome and strive wi' the
pope? or misca' a Macdonald in the raws o' Lochaber? We
came wi' nae sic intent, but in fair friendship, and on court-
eous errand. And now when we are a' rather on equal footing
again, let me beg o' you, great and powerful Master, to be a
reasonable man for aince. Answer the warden's request, and
let us gae; for really, great Sir, our master canna well want us;
and mair not that, I'm feared yon chaps at the mill dinna gie
Corby ony water.''
   Though the Master did not understand the latter part of
this speech, yet the honest simplicity of Charlie somewhat
interested him. His stern and sullen brow cleared to something
like a smile; and on looking at the singular and original group
before him, he half resolved within himself to have some
intercourse with humanity once more. ""If it were but for a
day, or even an hour,'' thought he, ""would it not form some
variety in a life thus dedicated to searching after hidden
mysteries--a life of turmoil and distraction, in which there is
no allay?''
   Such were some of the thoughts that glanced on the dark
mind of the necromancer, as he turned his eye on the broad
weather-beaten face of honest Yardbire. ""And what may
your master's request be, yeoman?'' said he.
   Charlie had great hopes that he would now bring matters
to a bearing at once; and, coming a step nearer to the Master,
he laid the one fore-finger across the other, and answered him
thus:--""Why, gude faith, Sir, it is neither mair nor less than
just this:--Ye ken the last time ye war at the castle o' Mount-
comyn, ye gae our master, your kinsman, the warden, some
little insight anent things that were to come about:--of some
bits o' glebes, and hopes, and glens, ye ken, that war to fa' to
his house. Now, Sir Knight, or Master, as I should say, he's a
man that, aboon a' ithers that ever war born, looks to the
honour and the advantage o' his house. He's as loyal as the
day's light, as generous as a corn mill, and as brave as a blast
o' snaw or a floody river. Od, you will turn either the ane or
the ither sooner than you will turn him wi' his muirland
callans at his back.--Ay, I hae seen him.--But it's needless to
tell what he'll do for his ain. So you see, Sir Master, that was
the preceese thing he sent us for.''
   ""To send troops to his assistance, I perceive?'' said the
Master.
   ""Why, Sir Master, to say the truth, we hadna that in
charge; though it wad be far mair mack like, and far mair
feasible, and far mair honourable into the bargain, to send
yon great clan o' ratten-nosed chaps to help our master, than
to hae them lying idle, eating you out o' house and hauld
here. Ye wad aye be getting part o' the spulzie. Half a dozen
o' kye at a time now and then disna do amiss. Sae, if you will
come to terms, I will engage for ane to see you get fair share,
to the hoof and the horn, the barn an' the beef boat, the
barrel and the bed blanket. But, ye ken, Sir, in matters like
this, we maun do ae thing afore another, like business men;
and ye maun be sae good, and sae kind, and sae obliging, as to
answer our first request first.''
   ""As far as I can recollect,'' said Michael, ""I never heard
any request made.''
   ""Why, gude faith, Sir, ye ken, I believe I forgot that part
o't,'' said Charlie: ""But ye see, that's neither here nor there;
for the thing requires some explanation. Do you ken a' this
mad story about the seige o' Roxburgh?''
   ""I trouble myself about no worldly things,'' said the
Master, ""nor do I wish to hear about them. Is there no one
present who can tell me this great business at one breath?''
   Charlie stepped back. ""There's nae garring him hae patience,
--and good troth my tongue I fear has outrun my logic,''
said he: ""Friar, speak you.''
   ""Great and magnificent Master of Arts,'' said the friar.
stepping forward, ""whom I have longed to see above all men!
Lo, thou seest, and thou hearest, that this man, although he
be a man of might, and a warrior from his youth, is yet un-
couth of speech, and altogether diffuse; therefore listen thou
diligently unto the voice of thy servant. Behold we are come
to thee from the man that ruleth over the borders of the land,
and leadeth forth his troops to battle. He sendeth unto thee
greeting, and beseecheth to know of thee what shall befal
unto his people, and to his house, in the latter days. It is thy
counsel alone that he asketh, for thou art renowned for
wisdom and foresight to the farthest corners of the earth.
The two nations are engaged in great and bloody contest, and
high are the stakes for which they play. The man who sent
us intreateth of thee to disclose unto thy servants who shall
finally prevail, and whether it behoveth him to join himself
to the captain of his people. He hath, moreover, sent unto
thee, by our hand, these two beautiful captives, the one to be
thine handmaiden, and the other to be thy servant and run at
thy bidding; and whatsoever thou requirest of our captain,
that will he do, even to the half of all that he hath.''
   There was but one thing on earth by which the wizard
could be flattered, and that was a deference to his profound
art. He therefore listened with patience to the friar, and
answered, that the request his kinsman had made would take
many days to consider of: ""For,'' said he, ""I have those to
deal with that are more capricious than the changing seasons,
and more perverse than opposing tides and winds; therefore
remain with me a few days, that I may prove you.''
   ""Od bless ye!  Sir Master, the thing is impossible!'' said
Charlie: ""I coudna bide frae my captain and chief, and him in
jeopardy; neither could I endure to think that my poor beast
should want water sae lang. A man's life often depends on
his beast.''
   ""Thou givest us no meat,'' said the friar, ""nor wine nor
strong drink givest thou unto us. How, therefore, can we
remain in thine house? Nevertheless would I love to abide a
short time with thee, to witness thy great might, before
which the masters of divinations in other lands have trembled.
Verily, I would also show unto thee what thy servant can do.''
   ""If I were to cope with such as thee, it would only be to
show thee thy littleness!'' said Michael. ""But thy creed is an
abomination to me, and I abhor it. In the meantime call up
my steward, and I will order him to provide you with meat
and drink.''
   The poet now, for the first time, spoke up in the Master's
hearing; and, indignant at the steward's design on Delany, he
delivered himself with great vehemence.
   ""Nay, say not so, great Master. The devil hath possession
of that man, sure as the stars burn on the morning's brow. He
give us meat or drink! Sooner he will draw forth the crimson
current from our veins, and lay us with the dead: Sooner he
will rob beauty of her treasure, and deface the image of his
Maker. Let us go forth to hill, or dale, or wood, strive with the
crow for carrion, or contend with owlets for a mouse; but to
be bearded by that same surly beast, the heart of man not
brooks it. As for me, I lift my voice, my absolute protest,
against the degradation and effect.''
   ""He is indeed a son of Belial,'' said the friar; ""but I have
put him in ward, that he trouble us not. Lo, here be the keys
of thy castle, which I intend to keep as our surety. Therefore
show me the place where thy good things are disposed, and I
myself will be steward for a time; for indeed that man of
thine is such a son of Belial that a man cannot speak to him.''
   The Master's brow lowered with dissatisfaction. His sub-
ordinate spirits in whom he trusted had no power over the
friar, and other man had he none within the castle, save
Gourlay, who was almost as much fiend as man. He therefore
intreated the friar to set his steward at liberty, and restore
to him the keys, else no meat or drink could be had; and, at
the same time, he gave them all warrandice that they should
be kindly used.
   ""My seneschal,'' said he, ""is as stubborn and froward as
any demon of the pit, nor will he do one kind or fair action
save by compulsion. But he dares not disobey me. If he
should presume to dispute my orders in the slightest instance,
one word from you shall be sufficient, and I will shew you
how he shall be requited.''
   It was forthwith agreed that the Master should accompany
them down to the dungeon, in order to restrain the fury and
violence of his servant. Matters were therefore arranged, and
the two prisoners set at liberty. The steward was sullen and
intractable, lying still on the dungeon floor, disregardful of
the words spoken to him by the friar; but when he heard the
Master's threatening accents he sprung to his feet and came
forth, looking at Charlie in such a manner as plainly said, ""I
shall be revenged on you.''
   The Master then took him to task, demanding by whose
orders he had shut up his kinsman's friends in the vault. But
he only snarled and gnashed his teeth in reply.
   ""And then to suffer yourself to be mured up there!'' said
the Master.
   ""Ay,'' said Gourlay; ""some have won a tilt on the king of
the field who never saw the day to win it on another.''
   ""For the viper blood that venoms thy heart do thou ought
amiss to these gentlemen,'' said the Master, ""or to this ob-
noxious thing that is their ward! Wherefore, let me ask, were
they compelled to shut you up there?''
   The steward only grunted in reply; but the poet came again
boldly forward, having been exasperated beyond measure at
the steward for his attempt on Delany; and he said,--""Sir
knight, in that I'll truly counsel you. At dead hour of night,
when all was still, save the snell piping of the frosty wind;
even we were all at peace, and quiet lay as did the dead
man's bones, but that, between, the friar at equal intervals
sent forth his nasal roar, so vehement that the mice, yea, and
the starveling rats, ceased from their growling, listened the
dire sound from fleshy trumpet of our mother church, then
sought, with stretched forth tail, and nimble foot, the depth
profound! There quaking did they lie, like fiends driven from
the height to the abyss,--lank make, chilled heart, and grievous
length of tail. At that ill hour, in comes this boding owl, this
ill-starred man of sin, and straight demands that peerless
maiden for your honour's couch. Him we refused--the maiden
shrieked for help--he dragged her forth, and on this laurelled
head, crowned by the muses with celestial bays, inflicted
ruthless wound. The bedesman also fell; but he our friend, the
Hector of the hills, wrought his o'erthrow, and circum-mured
him. Thus my say is ended.''
   The Master, as the poet spoke, seemed several times so
much amused, that they expected he would have burst into
laughter. But one look of his eye spoke sentences. When he
heard that Gourlay had demanded the maid for him, he gave
him such a glance as made the wretch almost cower to the
earth; and when the poet ended he turned his eyes on Charlie,
measuring him from head to foot, and seeming as if he doubted
the fact that he or any man could master his redoubted
seneschal. However, the Master had seen so much of the
group, that he determined, contrary to his custom, to have
some amusement with them.  He therefore ordered his
seneschal forthwith to provide all good things for their
entertainment.
   The stubborn wight made no movement betokening obed-
ience. He stood upright with his dull white face a little
elevated, and his eyes turned up below his brows, while those
who were next him heard him saying to himself, in accents
that creaked in his throat, ""Hell must be moved for this
repast!'' The Master heard not this sentence, but noting his
steward's indecision, he stamped with his foot, and pointing
with his finger, the latter led the way into an antichamber of
the same cold and naked appearance with the rest of the
apartments of the castle, where, leaving them with a light,
the two went away into the great Master's dormitory, ""To
cast their cantrips, and bring up the deil.''
   ""He keeps an unco cauld house this earl,'' said Tam, when
they were left by themselves: ""I fancy he'll ken brawly he'll
hae ane bien eneugh at the hinderend, and downa bide to see
fire in this!''
   ""He brings me a-mind o' daft Jock Amos i' the Goose-
green,'' said Gibbie,--""wha never durst lie down on a bed
because his mother died on ane. Whenever he saw a bed wi'
white sheets on it he fell atrembling, and ran to the gate.''
                         CHAPTER XV

                Goe fetche mee lofe of your wheitan breide
                And ane other coppe of wyne;
                For drynke I quhile myne doublet ryve,
                 For drynke I moste repine.
                I fele not corauge in myne herte,
                 Nor mychte into myne honde,
                If there is nott wychrafte forth abrode,
              There neuir was crafte in londe.
                                 <1Ballade of ""Prince Henrie''>1


THE morning had by this time dawned on the gray hills of the
forest, and that with an aspect gloomy and foreboding. The
white snowy clouds had crept down into the bosoms of the
hills; and above these clouds were here and there to be seen
the top of a mountain crested with its dark cairn, so that the
heavens and the earth seemed to be mingled together.
   ""Gude sauf us!'' cried Charlie, as he peeped out at his
small crannied window, ""but this is a grim, gousty-looking
morning! I wish the prince o' the air be nae fa'en a brewing
some o' his hellish storms and hairikens on us. If there be
spirits moving about on thae hills to-day, they can be nae good
anes, ye may see by their look out. Sant Mary be with us!
see their drumly heads appear to be raised to double their
ordinary height.''
   ""Be not thou afraid, my son, of the prince of the power of
the air, for there is one that is greater than he,'' said the
friar; ""and though the fiends may for a while muster their
fogs, and foment the air with storms, yet will he send forth
his angels and scatter them; yea, he will send them forth
riding on the whirlwind, and the clouds of heaven shall be
their chariots, and the powers of darkness shall fly in dismay
before them.''
  The friar stepped forward to the window, and gazed for a
minute in breathless astonishment; then turning away, he
added in a solemn tone, ""Verily, my children, I am afraid
to look at the face of the sky, or to behold the hues that are
abroad on the firmament this day, though my strength be
the munition of rocks.''
  The steward now appeared with his rod of office in his
hand, and, with all due ceremony, marshalled his guests up
the great stair, and finally up a small winding stair, to an
apartment at the very top of the upmost tower, above all the
turrets and paved battlements. This room was in a blaze of
light with flaming torches all around; and (joyful sight to
our precious embassy!) the table was covered with rich viands
in great abundance. The friar, having got short of breath in
his ascent, lagged considerably behind, while the foremost
rushing in, every one began to help himself with the greatest
avidity; so that, when the friar at length came puffing into
the apartment, all the rest had begun without grace. The seat
at the foot of the table was still unoccupied; and before that
there stood a beautiful smoking sirloin of beef, with a gentle
brown crust around it, and half swimming in gravy. Never
was there a more delicious sight presented to a hungry man.
  The worthy friar, seeing all the rest engaged, would not
risk a trespass on good manners by interrupting them, although
it was an established custom with him to bless every meal be-
fore tasting it. In conformity with this venerable custom
among Christians, he lifted up his spread hands, closed his
eyes, and leaning forward above the beef so closely that he
actually breathed upon it, and felt the flavour of health and
joy ascending by his nostrils, in that fervent and respectful
attitude he blessed the beef in the name of Jesus. Never had
blessing a more dolorous effect. When the friar opened his
eyes, the beef was gone. There was nothing left on the great
wooden plate before him but a small insignificant thing re-
sembling the joint of a frog's leg, or that of a rat; and perhaps
two or three drops of gravy.
  The friar's associates were all busily engaged. The steward
was moving about behind them, and at that time happened
to be passing by near where the friar sat; of course, this
latter worthy had no doubt whatever but that the malicious
old rascal had stolen the roast slyly from under his nose the
moment that his eyes were closed, whereas the steward was
as much astounded as he. It was a fine picture. The friar
had placed himself hastily to begin; but, missing his beef, and
seeing nothing of it on the board, he was moved with great
anger and indignation. There he sat, biting his lip, and having
his deep dark eye fixed on the seneschal; and there stood the
tall seneschal, with his mouth wide open, his face half raised
toward the cornice of the chamber, and his dull heavy eye
fixed on the friar's plate. He was in utter dismay; for he
dreaded that, on such a blessing being pronounced openly,
the whole of his provisions would in like manner vanish away;
and he was a blithe man when, instead of blessing, the friar,
on opening his mouth, was rather inclined to curse.
  ""Cursed be thy malice, for it is great,'' cried he: ""Thou
Nabal! thou Rabshakeh! thou Shimei, the son of Bichri! thou
Er! thou Onan! thou vile Judas, the son of Simon! Magor-
missabub be thy name; and may it be blotted out after thee,
and become a bye-word, and a proverb, and a hissing among
people and children. Restore that which thou hast unjustly
taken away, before I thrust my sword into thee, and take
away thy life. Give unto me the precious morsel thou hast
taken away, or, lo! thou art in the jaws of destruction, and
the pit openeth her mouth wide upon thee.''
   The steward answered neither good nor bad; for he was
afraid of the vengeance of his master, and the evil spirits
that wrought at his bidding, and delighted in nothing so much
as in tormenting him, else had he not taken the friar's curses
without repaying them sevenfold. He therefore shut his
mouth, and closed his eyes, putting on a countenance of the
utmost derision. But the friar's heart had been set upon the
beef, his soul had rejoiced over it, and he could not with
patience give way to the idea of losing it; therefore, instead
of joining the rest, who were devouring their various fare with
great eagerness, he continued his anathemas on the steward.
   ""Blethering gouk!'' cried Charlie: ""Can nae ye tak part
o' what's gaun, and haud your jaw? What signify a' thae
strings o' gospel phrases at sic a time as this? Will they fill a
hungry stamock, or mak the worthy seneschal either better
or waur than he is? Come pledge me in a cup o' wine to the
health of our great landlord, Master Michael Scott.''
   They handed the stoup down to the friar, who filled for
himself, and took the pledge, though still with a gloomy
and a discontented brow. He then left his seat, and went up
one side of the board, close to Gibbie Jordan, where he be-
gan a-helping himself to a slice, from a mangled shoulder of
venison apparently. But it relished not,--for still the lost beef
was uppermost in his mind, and his eye glanced hot displea-
sure at the steward.
   ""Surely he is of all men the most accursed,'' added he:
""He drinketh up malice as the ox drinketh up water; and as
his name is so is he. Whereunto he hath conveyed the morsel
that I loved, is a matter too high for me to comprehend. I see
it not in any corner of the habitation, nor doth the smell of
it reach my nostrils. But I will visit it upon his head; and mine
eyes shall see my desire on him.''
   The dishes of meat were, however, of good quality, and
well mixed with fat and lean; yet none of them knew exactly
what they were, neither would the sullen steward deign to
give them the least information on that head. There was even
one large shapeless piece, of a savour and consistence so
peculiar that no one of them could tell whether it was flesh
or fish. Still they continued their perseverance, devouring
one dish after another, and drinking off one stoup of wine
after another, without any abatement of appetite on the one
side or any exhiliration of spirits on the other, the steward
always bringing in a supply with the most perfect equanimity.
At length our yeomen began to look at one another. Their
hands had waxed weary with cutting, and their jaws would
scarcely any more perform their office.
   ""What is the meaning of this, my brethren,'' said the friar:
""Surely it is better for us to desist, lest our table prove a
snare unto us. Lo, my hands are weary, and my cheek-bones
are pained even to their utmost extremities. Verily, it is all
vanity, for my body is only filled as with the east wind.''
   ""Na, na; ply away. It's good sport. I dinna see how we
can be better employed,'' said the deil's Tam.
   ""I think, my brethren, that we should from eating
straight refrain,'' said the poet; ""for eating is but weariness,
and drinking is but pain. There is no strength into our bread,
nor spirit in our wine: some warlock wight has ta'en the
might out of this food of mine.''
   The steward had all this time never spoken word good or
bad; but had served them with the utmost obsequiousness;
and when they had at length ceased from feeding, he went
and gave the Master an account of the repast, which proved
a source of great divertisement to him.
   ""I have not,'' said he, ""for these many years, had any
desire to trifle with the beings to whose species I once be-
longed; but this group surpasses all of their kind. I will,
therefore, lay aside my profound studies, and be with them
as one of themselves. If it were but to torment them, I will
indulge in this idle and vain humour. I have almost forgot
how human passions work.''
   ""I pray of thee, Master,'' said Gourlay, ""that thou wilt
suffer me to slay yon grim and snarling dog in the grey
frock. I loathe, hate, and abhor him. He is, moreover, a bit
of a necromancer himself; and has the insolence to suppose
that he can rival you in power.''
   ""It is there I long to try him,'' said the Master. ""In power
I brook no rival in this or any other land, as thou thyself,
and thy wretched companion in bondage, can witness. There
is only one thing in this weak man in shape of a friar that I
fear, and that thing shall be nameless. Perhaps I may com-
mission thee to take him away. In the mean time, remove
the remainder of their wretched viands, and bring me in a
vessel full of the strong wine of Palestine, rnixed up with
the essence of many spirits. It is a beverage fit for gods. In it
will I pledge these deranged mortals; and thou shalt see some
sport for once, if aught on earth can divert thee.''
   ""Certes I shall be diverted, great Master of arts. I hope
you will favour them with a touch of <1the varieties,>1 by way
of example?''
   ""By and by, Gourlay,--all in good time. In the mean
while, let us deal with them as men and as gentlemen; and,
before I metamorphose them into quadrupeds, let us see
what kind of beings they will make of themselves.''
   The Master accordingly entered the room, where his guests
still sat round the board. All of them rose, and made obeis-
ance; but, without returning the courtesy, he took his seat
at the end of the table next to the door, and was just about
to address them, when he was interrupted by Charlie Scott.
There were two great individuals always uppermost in Charlie's
mind,--these were his master the warden, and his horse Corby;
and finding himself again in the Master's presence, and think-
ing he rather looked better pleased than he was wont, he
judged it prudent not to let the opportunity slip: so, after
scratching his head violently with both hands, he thus pre-
ferred his solicitation:
   ""Gude faith, Master Scott, I'm glad I hae seen you
again; and, nae disparagement either to you or your house,
Sir Knight, but the truth is, we canna bide here. For, in the
first place, you see, our skins will gang to the bauks in a
jiffey; and, in the next place, our captain, the warden, canna
want us. It is far mair than our lives are worth for us to stay
here; for, troth, Sir Master, the lives o' others depend on it.
Now, I wadna like that we were trowed to be corbie messen-
gers. And that brings me a-mind, Sir Knight, how muckle
need I hae to be at the mill down by there. I hae a friend at it
that I fear is in nae good plight.''
   ""Content you, gallant squire, for a space.'' said the Master;
""I do intend to answer the request of my noble kinsman with
all expedition; but such things cannot be done in a moment. I
must read the face of the heavens, and listen to the voices
from the deep below. I have likewise a master to consult;
he has another; and both are as perverse as hell itself. Be
content, therefore, and enjoy yourselves for the remainder
of this day. Give me all your names that I may register them,
and give me them truly.''
   Every one gave his name and designation, save that the
poet gave the name of the lovely Delany with an encomium
on her beauty and virtue. But Michael cared for none of those
things. What appeared beautiful in the eyes of other men, to
his were loathsomeness and deformity. Far different was the
case when the friar announced his own name.
   Michael started to his feet, and, with spread hands, and
every feature of his countenance dilated with joy, he
exclaimed, ""What? Primate of Douay in France, and author
of the Book of Arts?''
   ""The same, great Sir,'' said the friar: ""I confide it to you:
But haply thou dost not know, in this thy retired habitation,
that men thirst for my blood; that I am a persecuted man,
and have suffered imprisonments, bonds, wounds, yea, and
tortures; that I have been hunted from nation to nation, and
from land to land, until I found shelter and protection among
these wild and reckless Borderers, a people that neither fear
God nor regard man. With them have I taken up my abode. I
am become a father to them, and they are as children unto me.
I love them. But, if they should be induced to give me up, wo
would be unto me!''
   ""What d'ye say, man?'' said Charlie, grasping his hand. ""D'
ye think a Scot amang us wad gie you up? If there be sic a
man in the Border array, he ought to be d--ned. But I trow I
ken a bit o' the warden's mind there; and I can tell you, a' the
pens and a' the rapiers in England wadna gar him gie up the
gospel friar. Na, na; if ever he's gien up, he maun gie up
himsel, and mak his ain conditions too.''
   ""Great and notable Primate, you are welcome to this
castle,'' said the Master; ""whether by the title of monk,
prior, primate, or friar, I say you are welcome here. I have
ridden a thousand miles to meet with you. But that is long
agone. I had heard of your great skill in the sublime arts,
that surpass the comprehension of ordinary men, and I deter-
mined to stake my life on the trial of skill between us. I
was disappointed in meeting with you, for you were not to be
found, dead or alive. The days of my ambition are fled. My
power has been acknowledged so long, none daring to contend
with me, that indifference hath ensued; after that came dis-
gust, and with it misery. Thou art the man of all the earth
whose fame I have envied; and, if thou darest, I will contend
with thee, for freedom or for life, which thou wilt. If thou
art overcome thou shalt be my bondsman and slave, and if
thou conquerest I will submit to be thine.''
   ""Lo, I will contend with thee even for name and being,''
said the friar. ""Of the strong-holds of sin and Satan am I not
afraid. I have put the ministers of thy vengeance to flight
already, and I will chase, yea, I will overcome and pursue
them away; as chaff is driven before the wind, will I scatter
them. Dare not to contend with me; for, if I judge aright, my
Master holdeth thine in chains, and if I interfere thou canst
do nothing. I judge it therefore best to contend as brothers
contend. To admire what is truly great, and deride that which
is insignificant. Mine are the arts of peace, truth, and right-
eousness, and I hoped thine were the same.''
   "Why, art thou not a monk, a follower of the wretched
maniac, Benedict of Padua? that driveller in hidden mysteries?''
said the Master. ""I do not rightly comprehend thee, or by
what power thou didst thwart my servants. Tell me in one
word,--Art thou not in combination with the potent elemen-
tal spirits that rule and controul the earth, the air, the fire,
and the waters? If not, thy arts are superficial and worthless.''
   ""Thou shalt see, and thou shalt judge,'' said the friar: ""I
am not ashamed of that I can do.'' And with that he went
and brought up his huge portmanteau, in which he always
carried many a small and curious apparatus; but these he
kept carefully concealed, having suffered so much from the
superstitions of bigotted and illiterate men, in the course of
his profound researches. He was the greatest chemist that
had ever appeared on the stage of existence; yet that curious
and refined art was he obliged carefully to conceal, having
been persecuted as a necromancer over every kingdom of
southern Europe.
   When he went away Charlie Scott was terribly in the
fidgets. He expected instantly to witness the raising of the
devil, and other infernal spirits, against whom he cherished
the most inveterate dislike. His eyes began to set in his head,
and the roof of his mouth became so dry that he could not
pronounce words distinctly.
   ""Gude faith, Sir Master,'' said he, ""I dinna appruve of a
man setting up his birse, and braving a gentleman in his ain
house. And, wi' your permission, I hae something o' great
importance to do at the mill; sae I'll e'en step down that
length, and I shall come up again' the morning by day-light.''
   ""Please to remain with your friends, good yeoman,'' said
the Master: ""You shall witness something worth your while.
What can you possibly have to do at the mill?''
   ""Muckle, muckle to do at the mill, Sir Knight; I'll just
refer it to yoursel,--can either man or beast leeve wanting
drink?''
   ""I beg your pardon,'' said the Master: ""I had almost for-
got my principal errand. Gourlay, fill me a glass of the wine
of Palestine.''
   The steward did as he was ordered; and the Master, taking
the cup, drank to the health of his kinsman, the warden, and
all his friends. Every one of his guests did the same, save the
maiden and boy; and every eye was cleared, and every heart
warmed, for the liquor was as strong as brandy.
   ""Weel, Sir Knight,'' said Charlie, ""that is what ane wad ca'
rather stiff sturdy drink; I hae nae tasted ought as weel worth
the drinking: And if ye will just gar auld Crossgrains come
ower us again, I think I could even prevail on mysel' to face
the deil, and let Corby tak his chance.''
   The request was instantly complied with. Each of them got
another cup; and the friar having tarried a while to put his
affairs in order, when he came back the tongues of all his
companions were going at once, and he was apprehensive
that they were bewitched. He, however, took the pledge in
one full cup, and was greatly revived by it; but refused taking
another at that time.
   The room in which they sat was lighted by four windows:
those to the east and west were small circular ones, having a
pane of bright glass in each: those to the north and south
were merely long slits in the wall, without any glass; and the
first thing the friar did, before producing the specimens of
his art, was to close up all these windows, so as to exclude
the light of day, and the glass of the western one he either
contrived to remove, substituting another in its place, or else
he put another piece of magnifying glass over it.
   When he began a-closing up the last, Charlie entered a
vehement protest against it, on the ground that no body would
see what he did, or what he raised, and any one might be
seized by the neck ere ever he was aware, by some o' his in-
fernal deils.
   ""I hate a' surprises,'' added he; ""It's best keeping the
crown o' the fell, and seeing weel about ane. Room to fight
and room to flee, an ye like, Maister Gospel-friar. Wha do
you think's gaun to play at hide-and-seek wi' the deil in sic
a place as this?''
   The Master, in a sneering manner, requested that the great
enchanter might have his own way: and Charlie, whose
tongue was a little loosed by the wine of Palestine, was at last
restrained, though not without a good deal of grumbling and
fidgetting. The room was darkened; the friar went into a small
alcove, and, by the help of a magic lanthorn, a thing never
before seen in Scotland, he raised up a tremendous and horrid
figure on the wall. It was of gigantic size; its eyes, lips, and
paws moved; and its body was thrown into various contortions.
   All were in breathless silence on the appearance of this
extraordinary shade; but among the darkling group there was
distinctly heard one whose breathing was frequently cut
short, as if something had been choking him, or seizing him
by the throat.
   After the apparition had gone through its various evolutions,
all apparently at the further end of the apartment, it fixed
its eyes, clenched its teeth, and, stretching forth its claws,
it appeared to make a spring forward at the party.
   ""Aih! L--d be here!'' cried Charlie in a trumpet voice, and
threw himself flat down behind the rest. Hearing that some
of them laughed at the fright he had got, he ventured to
speak and expostulate a little; but no curiosity could induce
him to raise his face from the floor, or open his eyes again
while the friar's exhibition continued. ""Lair him, lair him,
friar!'' cried he,--""or, od I's be about your lugs some day
for this. Lair him, lair him, in the name of St Michael! and
if that winna do, try him wi' Peter--he'll send him ower the
battlements like a shot.  O good friar, whatever ye do,
lair him!''
   The friar went on with his phantasmagoria. The figure,
after giving a shiver or two, was parted into three, all of the
same form and size, but all making different motions, and
different contortions of feature. The three were afterwards
parted into six, which, among other grotesque feats, danced
a reel, and, on running thro' it, every one threw itself heels-
over-head. The group of onlookers laughed outright at this,
notwithstanding their astonishment, and called to Charlie
to look. But he would not move his face from the earth, and
only asked, in a half-suffocated voice, ""Is he no laired yet?
Od I shall be about wi' that cursed body for his tricks.''
   When the friar had concluded this feat, he put out his small
lanthorn, took the machinery out of it, concealing it be-
neath his ample frock, and again opened all the windows.
   Charlie got up, and running to one of the loop-holes,
""Gude be thankit, I'll get a cooke o' the air o' heaven again!''
said he, ""for I hae been breathing fire and brimstone this
while byegane. Foul befa' me gin ever I saw the like o' yon;
I was sair dumfoundered,--but wha could stand afore the face
of a fiery giant?''
   The friar's associates looked at the lanthorn, examining
it with curious eyes, but perceived nothing about it which
could in any way account for the apparition they had seen.
Master Michael Scott did not deign to ask a sight of it, but
paced over the floor in sullen and thoughtful mood. The
seneschal stood fixed to the spot on which he had witnessed
the phenomenon, with his heavy unmoving eyes turned to-
wards his master. He seemed dubious whether he was van-
quished or not. The Master at length spoke, addressing the
friar : --
   ""I hope, right worshipful Primate, this is not the extent
of your knowledge and power in the sublime art of divin-
ation? The whole is only a delusion,--a shadow,-- a phantom,
calculated to astonish women or children. I acknowledge it
to be ingenious; still it is nothing. You multiplied your
shadows, turning three into six; now, if I turn three men into
six living, breathing, substantial beings, will you acknowledge
yourself outdone?''
   ""Certes, I will,'' said the friar.
   ""Away, then, with deception,'' said the Master: ""What I
do, I do in the open eye of day.--Stand forth three of you.''
   ""Master Michael Scott, I'll tell you what it is,'' said
Charlie, ""I solemnly protest against being parted into twa.''
   ""You shall neither suffer nor feel the least inconvenience by
the change, brave yeoman,'' said the Master; ""therefore be
not afraid, but stand forth.''
   Charlie hung his head to one side in a deep reverie, till at
length his countenance lightened up by degrees, his features
opening into a broad smile.
   ""I'll tell you what it is, Sir Knight,'' said he, ""if you will
assure me that baith o' us shall be as stout and as wight
chaps as I am mysel e'en now, gude faith, I dinna care
though ye mak me into twa, for my master the warden's
sake. If you could double an army that gate, it wad be a great
matter. I doubt sair I'll cast out wi' my tither half about some-
thing that I ken o', and that's Corby; but I'll run the risk.
Nane o' your cutting and cleaving, however, Sir Knight. Nane
o' your imps wi' their lang-kail gully knives again.''
   Charlie stepped up the floor, and took his stand with his
back at the wall, to await doggedly this multiplication of
himself. Tam soon joined him: but there was a hard contest
between Gibbie and the poet, both of whom were rather
personal cowards, and both alike averse to such experiments.
The former was at length obliged to yield, for Carol clung so
close to the maid, that nothing could induce him to part from
her; and, ever since the friar gave him the grievous overthrow,
he had lost all confidence in his personal prowess.
   Michael stamped thrice with his heel, and spoke some words
in an unknown tongue, in a low muttering tone; but some of
them heard the sounds of Prig, Prim, and Pricker. There
was a momentary confusion in the apartment. A darkening
haze flashed over it, and blinded the eyes of men for a short
space; the floor gave a shake, as if it had sunk down a little,--
and there stood two of each of the three friends, so completely
alike that no one knew who was who.
   No scene could be more truly ludicrous than the one which
now ensued; each man turned to his prototype, and the looks
of confusion and astonishment in both being the same, the
beholders were seized with irrepressible laughter.
   Charlie felt his legs, thighs, and ribs, if they remained the
same as before. The other boardly personage in the same
shape followed his example, and added, ""Gude faith, the like
o' this I saw never!''
   ""You may weel say't,'' said the other; ""But let me see if
you can draw that lang sword as weel an' as cleverly as I can do.''
   ""Gude Lord, hear til him!'' said the first: ""He's speaking
as he were the true Charlie Scott himsel! Speak ye, friend:
Were you me before this! That is, did you ride with the
warden over the border?''
   ""I am sure if you were there, I never saw you before,'' said
the second speaker; ""But I dinna ken what I am saying; for
the truth is I dinna comprehend this.''
   With that they again gazed at each other, and looked over
their shoulders, as if they would not have cared to have fled
from one another's presence.
   With every pair the scene was much the same. Tam was so
much astonished that he turned to his second self, cowered
down, leaning his hands upon his knees, and made a staunch
point at him. The other took precisely the same posture, so
that their long noses almost met. The maid, the poet, and the
boy screamed with laughter. Both of the Tams laughed too, so
that they very much resembled an idiot looking at himself
in a glass.
   ""Friend, I canna say but ye're very like me,'' said Gibbie
to his partner; ""But, though nane o' us be great beauties, ye
look rather the warst o' the twae.''
   ""It brings me a-mind o' a story I hae heard my mother tell,''
said the other, ""of a lady and her twa Blackamores''--
   ""What the deil man!'' exclaimed the first; ""Did your
mother tell that story too?''
   ""Ay; wha else but she tauld it? I say my mother, auld
Effy Blakely of the Peatstacknowe.''
   ""Eh?--She your mother? It is gayan queer if we be baith
ane after a'! for I never had a billy.''
   The two Gibbies then both began to tell stories, which
each claimed as originally his, so that the perplexity still in-
creased. Nor was it better when the parties began to mix and
address each other. All spoke of themselves as the right and
proper persons, and of the others as beings in their likenesses,
and the most complete uncertainty prevailed. But, just as the
novelty and interest of the drama began to subside, Michael,
by a wave of his hand annihilated the three additional person-
ages, and all remained as it was before the grand exhibition
commenced, save that our group had got a new topic of con-
versation and merriment.
   ""Primate of Douay, so celebrated for thy mighty enchant-
ments, how thinkest thou of this?'' said the Master.
   ""That thou hast done what no man could have done be-
side,'' said the friar; ""and that thy power even surpasseth
that of the magicians of Egypt, and of those of the countries
in the lands of the east. But in one thing my power is even
as thy power. Dost thou know that I could have prevented thy
charm, and put a period to thy enchantment at my will and
pleasure?''
   ""It is not the power of prevention that we are trying,''
said the Master. ""Suffer my servants to do their work, as I
shall suffer thine, and we shall then see who are most punc-
tually obeyed, and who shall perform the greatest works.
Only, if I prevail in all things, you will surely have the gene-
rosity to acknowledge that my master is greater than thine?''
   ""Wo be unto me if such a confession proceed out of my
lips!'' said the friar:  ""Who can be greater than he who
builded the stories of heaven, and laid the foundations of
this earth below; who lighted up the sun, sending him abroad
in brightness and in glory, and placed the moon and the
stars in the firmament on high? Who is greater than he who
hath made the mountains to stand, the seas to roll, and the
winds to blow? who hath not only made the souls of men,
but all the spirits of the upper and nether world--''
   ""Peace, thou maniac!'' cried the Master, interrupting the
friar, in a voice that made him leap from the floor: ""Comest
thou here to babble treason against the master whom I serve,
and the mighty spirits with whom I am in league? Do what
thou canst do, and cease from speaking evil of dignities.
What knowest thou of the principalities and powers that in-
habit and rule over the various regions of the universe? No
more than the mole that grovelleth beneath the sward.--
What further canst thou do in proof of thy profound art?''
   ""Behold with thine eyes, O thou who accountest thyself
the greatest among the children of men!'' said the friar, with
a waggish air; ""that I will but speak the word, and the
mountains shall be rent asunder, and the tops of the ever-
lasting hills stand in opposition. Knowest thou the proper
name, figure, and dimensions of that peaked mountain over
against the castle, to the west?''
   ""Well may I know it,'' said the Master, ""for I have looked
out on it these fifty years, and many a hundred times have
I followed the chase around it. It is named Cope-Law, and
the mountain is my own.''
   ""Mountain of Cope-Law, hear my voice,'' cried the friar
in the same waggish tone, in which there was an affectation
of sublime command: ""Thou hast borne the footsteps of
thy great master and his black horse Beelzebub, yet hast
thou neither been scorched nor rent. Yea, though he hath
cursed thee in the bitterness of ire, yet hath thy grey head
never been shaken.--But, behold, a greater than thy master is
here. Mountain of Cope-Law, hear my voice:--Be thou rent
asunder and divided into three, that thy owner may look on
thee and be astonied. If it please thee, mighty magician, look
out on thy mountain of Cope-Law now.''
   Many a thousand times had the Master looked out at that
circular window; every bush and grey stone on the hill were
familiar to him; and, all unsuspicious of the simple deceit that
had been practised on him, he went and looked forth from
the window, when, in the place where one round peaked
mountain was wont to be, he actually saw three, all of the
same dimensions; and, as he weened, each of them more
steep, tall, and romantic than the original one had been. He
looked, and looked again--the optical delusion was complete.
He paced the floor in sullen mood; muttered some sentences
to himself in an under tone, and once more looked forth
on the singular phenomenon. The mountains remained the
same. They could not be seen from any other window, and
no one thought of descending to the great balcony; so that in
the eyes of all the friar remained triumphant.
   The Master could not brook this. He strode the floor in
gloomy indignation; and at length they heard him saying, ""If
I should venture to demand it--But is it then to be my last
great work? The demand is dreadful!--I will--I'll demand it.
Never shall it be said that Michael Scott was out-done in his
own art, and that by a poor peddling friar. Come all of you
hither,'' added he in a louder tone. ""Look at that mountain
to the east. It is known to you all--the great hill of Eildon.
You see and know that it is one round, smooth, and unbroken
cone.''
   ""We all know it, and have known it from infancy,'' was the
general answer.
   The Master gave three strokes with his heel, and called the
names of his three elfin pages, who in an instant stood before
him.--""Work, Master, work,--what work now?''
   ""Look at that mountain to the east,'' said he, ""ycleped
the hill of Eildon. Go and twist me it into three.''
   The pages grinned, looking at him with eyes of a devilish
gleam, as a ravenous creature eyes its prey.
   ""The hill is a granite rock,'' said one,--""and five arrow-
flights high,'' said another,--""and seventy round the base,''
said the first.
   ""All the powers of earth, and hell to boot, are unmeet to
the task,'' added the third.
   ""Thou art a proud and impertinent liar, perverse imp of the
regions of flame,'' said the Master: ""Note this, The thing
must, and shall be done; even though a body and soul should
both be given up as the guerdon. I know my conditions; they
are sealed, and subscribed, and I am not to be disobeyed.
Get to your work without more hesitation.''
   The three pages then fell to reeling about and about, singing
a wild and uncouth trio, in words of the following import:

               ""Pick and spade
               To our aid!
   Flaught and flail,
   Fire and hail!
               Winds arise, and tempests brattle,
               And if you will the thunders rattle.
               Come away
               Elfin grey,
               Much to do ere break of day!
               Come with spade, and sieve, and shovel;
               Come with roar, and rout, and revel;
               Come with crow, and come with crane,
               Strength of steed, and weight of wain,
               Crash of rock, and roar of river;
               And, if you will, with thunders shiver!
   Come away,
   Elfin grey;
               Much to do ere break of day!''

   As they sung these last lines they reeled out at the door in
a circular motion, so rapid that the eye dazzled which looked
on them. The poet, drawn involuntarily by the ears after
that wild fairy lay, hasted out after them. He looked east,
and west, and all around, but he only saw three crows winging
their flight toward the hill of Eildon.
   From the time of their departure the temper of the great
Master became extremely variable. At one time his visage
would be clouded with the gloom of despair, and at another
lighted up with a sort of horrid exultation; but he spake not,
save to himself.
   The friar, therefore, in order to divert his host, and gratify
his own vanity, proposed to show off some more wonders of
his art. Accordingly he closed up all the windows once more,
making the apartment as dark as pitch, and exercised many
curious chemical devices, lighted Roman candles, and made
them dance about the chamber in every colour of the rainbow.
   He was still busily employed playing off his little ingenious
tricks, when the party were disturbed by a bustle in one of
the corners. It chanced to be so dark at the moment that no
one could see what was going on; but they heard a noise as
of two people struggling; then a blow, and one falling down
with a groan.
   The friar paused, calling out and enquiring what it was.
Charlie, never behind in a fray, bustled over the forms to-
ward the scene of action; but falling by the way, the noise
was quickly removed to another corner, a door was opened
and shut, and all was again quiet.
   Every one ran about groping his way in the dark, and coming
full drive against others, till the friar had the presence of mind
to pull the stuffing out of some of the windows. The first
thing they then saw was the poet lying on the floor, void of
sense and motion; and then it quickly appeared that the
steward and Delany were a-wanting. The whole party, save
the Master, set out on the pursuit, headed by the friar and
Charlie, and came just in time to rescue the maid as the
wretch was dragging her into his abominable cell. It seemed
that he had determined on seizing her as his prey, and now
that the three infernal pages, his tormentors, were dispatched
elsewhere, he feared neither the Master nor his guests; and,
taking advantage of the utter darkness, and of the poet and
her being in a corner by themselves, he stole up to them,
gagged the maid, silenced the Poet, who resisted, with one
blow, and then bore off the helpless lady with all expedition.
   When he saw that he was overtaken and overpowered by
numbers, he only laughed at them; and assured them that, in
spite of all they could do, he would have possession of her,
and that they should see. The girl wept and complained of
being hurt; but then he only laughed and mocked the louder.
Some of them proposed that they should hew him all to
pieces, but the friar had resolved on his measures, and, at
his request, they took the culprit up before the Master, and
there lodged their accusation against him. But the Master
either durst not, or would not say a word against him; for,
in fact, it appeared that this great man, without his familiar
spirits, shrunk into nothing, and was not only afraid of his own
bondsman, but of every thing around him, deeming himself
altogether without help.
   The friar's eye burned with indignation and rage, at wit-
nessing such arrogance on the one hand, and imbecility on
the other; but his bootless wrath only delighted the steward
the more; and it was evident that, had it not been for fear
of Charlie Scott's long sword and heavy hand, he would have
taken his prey from the midst of them.
   Delany still wept and sobbed till her bosom was like to
rend, and begged to be taken away from the castle, or to be
killed and put in her grave. The friar tried, with all the fair
and kind speeches he was master of, to comfort her; but when
she saw the poet pale, bleeding, and sitting still unable to
rise, she only waxed worse, and hid herself from the eye of
the wretch behind the friar's frock.
   ""Daughter of my love, and child of many misfortunes, be
thou comforted,'' said the friar; ""for though the wicked
triumph for a space in their iniquity, yet shall they not
thrive. They who refuse to do justice to the innocent and up-
right in heart shall perish in their sin, and pass away as the
smoke that is driven by the wind. Therefore, my daughter,
be thou comforted; and that thy heart may be cheered, I
will show thee a wonder of my art,--a wonder so great that
whosoever seeth it his heart shall melt within him; and who-
soever heareth of it his ears shall tingle. Come, whoso listeth,
forth into the open air, and I will do it in the sight of
heaven and of man.''
   The friar then lifting up his huge portmanteau, went forth
to the large paved gateway that surrounded the whole of the
uppermost arches of the castle. It was so ample as to be
like a small field, for it covered all the castle, save four small
pointed turrets, and the square apartment which the party
now left, that rose like a shapeless dome above all. In one
corner of this level battlement there stood a leaden vessel
that had once been used as a cistern. To that the friar went;
and, laying down his huge walise, he took from thence a hand-
ful of blackish sand, and strinkled it all around the battlement
on the one side to the opposite corner. He then stood and look-
ed awfully around him. He looked to the heavens, but they
were shrouded in a dark hideous cloud that now covered the
mountains, and hung lowering over the uppermost spire of
the castle. Neither the Cope-Law nor the hill of Eildon could
be seen, nor could aught be seen save the dark and troubled
cloud. The scene was truly impressive; and when the rest
saw the friar looking on it with such apparent dread, all of
them looked abroad with him, and whispered to one another,
""He's gaun to be about some awesome enchantment now.''
   The friar covered up his portmanteau with the leaden
vessel, and then desired the Master to bring any weight he
chose, and heap it on its bottom, which he had now turned
uppermost, and, at one word or sign, he would make his
goat-skin wallet carry the vessel, and all such weight, round
the battlements of the castle.
   The Master, and every one present, pronounced the thing
to be impossible,--the steward grinned in derision,--and,
after mocking and taunting the friar on his art in the most
gross and provoking terms, he proffered to hold down the
leaden tub, wallet and altogether, or to forfeit his head if he
failed. Then laying himself over it, in the attitude of holding
it down, he called on the friar to proceed, and give him the
promised canter round the walls, which he well deserved, he
said, not only for his kindness to them all, and to their Miss
in particular, but also for his kind intentions. Then he scoffed
aloud, crying out, ""Now thou poor vain fool and liar, be as
good as thy word, and give me, an it were, but one hobble.''
   ""God do so to me, and more also,'' said the friar, ""if I do
not give thee such a hobble as eye hath not seen!''
   With that he struck a spark of fire among the black sand, as
the rest supposed it to be, that lay among his feet. The sand
caught fire,--the flame ran sputtering around the western
battlement,--and the next moment the steward and his tub
bolted away into the firmament in a tremendous flash of fire,
and with a sound so loud that it shook the castle to its
foundations. Some averred that they saw, through the fire
and smoke, a momentary glance of him and the cistern
both, as they pierced the cloud towards the north; but
nothing further was heard or seen,--and, in a second of time,
all was quiet and gloomy above and around as it had been
before.
                         CHAPTER XVI

                The wind blew as 'twould blawn it's last,
                The thickening showers rose on the blast;
                The speedy gleam the darkness swallowed,
                Loud, deep, and lang the thunder bellowed;
                That night a child might understand
                The deil had business on his hand!
                                         <1Tam o' Shanter>1


LONG was it before any of the astonished spectators opened
their lips. The shock had almost deprived them of sense, sight,
and motion; and when they began to articulate; it was only
to utter short exclamations, and names of saints. Tam Craik
was the first who ventured a remark, which was in the follow-
ing words:--""By the Lord Robin!'' (meaning, it was supposed,
the king,) ""The deil has flown away wi' him bodily in a flash
o' fire!''
   The great Master stood mute with astonishment; he even
trembled with dread; and appeared once as if he would have
fallen at the friar's feet: But he never said, Where is my sene-
schal gone? Whither hast thou sent him? seeming rather to
succumb to his guests for the time, being as a man utterly at
their mercy. His powerful and malevolent spirits had left him
by his command; his steward, and only human attendant, had
been blown into the air; and as for the miserable night-hag,
they had seen no more of her since her escape from the prison
vault, and they wist not whether she remained in the castle,
or had fled from it out of dread of the symbols of the
Christian religion, which she had seen about the friar, and
the effects of which she had felt in frustrating her potent
spells. The wizard had therefore none to execute his com-
mands, and appeared a being quite forlorn, as well as greatly
troubled in his mind.
   No one ever knew to this day by what means the wicked
seneschal was borne away among the clouds in a column of
fire and smoke; and those who witnessed it spread the word
over the country, that the devil took him away with a great
roar amid fire and brimstone; and that, after having him up
among the dark clouds, he tore him all to pieces. It was a fact
that one of the steward's mangled limbs was found hanging
on a tree, among some thick branches, in the wood of Sheil's
Heuch, over against the castle, which gave some countenance
to the report; and no farther remnants of him were ever
discovered.
   The friar, however, knew well enough by what means he
was taken away; and though he never explained it as long as
he remained in Scotland, it is meet that the readers of this
tale should know the truth. It can be told in a few words. The
friar had brought his huge wallet full of the strongest gun-
powder he had been able to make, to shew off his wonderful
feats, and astonish the great Master. The exigency of the
moment induced him to part with it all at once; and, in all
probability, he could not have caused so much astonishment
by any experiment he could have put in practice.
   He was guilty, however, of a manifest oversight; one that
had well nigh proved fatal to the whole party in its conse-
quences. When they found themselves freed from their vile
persecutor, and the great Master rather their prisoner than
they his, their first thought was of departing from that un-
hallowed place, and awaiting, in the neighbourhood, the
wizard's final answer, without which they durst not well
return to the warden.
   Charlie jumped on the battlement with very joy that he
would now get down to the mill to see what was become of
Corby, and how he fared; and he was the first man to proceed
down the narrow staircase, leading the way to the fair fields.
But, alas, how transient are all sublunary joys and hopes! In
the middle of this confined and difficult stair, just at its
darkest and most acute turn, there was a massive iron door,
which Charlie ran his nose against in his descent, and soon
found, to his mortification and disappointment, that it was
locked and double locked. He returned to those above with
the dismal information. The friar's countenance fell, and he
became pale as ashes, when it was thus brought to his re-
collection that he had not only blown the brutal seneschal to
the devil, but that he had blown the keys of the castle along
with him; and there were they left on the roof to perish
with hunger.
   After many ineffectual attempts to break open that door,
having no other resource, they agreed to go to the topmost
tower, and there unite their voices, in order to raise the coun-
try to their assistance; for, without ropes and ladders, they
saw no means of escape. Accordingly they ascended, and
uttered many a prolonged and tremendous shout, for the
space of a whole hour. But these unwonted cries only drove
the hinds to a greater distance from the castle. Many of them
had witnessed the mighty explosion at the exit of the senes-
chal, which in the middle of the lurid gloom, had a hideous
effect; and when they heard such long and loud howls pro-
ceeding from the battlements of that gloomy and desolate
pile, they weened that a whole host of demons had assembled
about it, and kept far aloof.
   In these and other fruitless exertions, our hapless prisoners
spent the evening of that eventful day. The sun, or the blue
sky, had not once appeared since the break of morn. For a
little while, about noon, the hills of the Forest were visible,
and, on their back-ground of pale shadowy clouds, formed a
scene of dark sublimity. Still, as it approached toward evening,
these clouds came lower and lower down upon the hills, and
became more dark and dense in their appearance; and precisely
at the close of day the storm burst forth in all its fury, sweep-
ing over hill and dale with increasing majesty every minute.
The woods roared and crashed before the blast. The snow
descended so thick that in a short time every ravine and shel-
tered dell was heaped.  After that came sleet and snow
mingled; and, finally, a driving rain dashed with such violence
on the earth, that it seemed as if a thousand cataracts poured
from the western heaven to mix with the tempest below.
Needless is it to describe that night farther. It was that on
which the great battle was fought in the camp of Douglas, and
formerly mentioned in this momentous history.--It is there-
fore apparent that Isaac the curate is now drawing near to the
same period of time when he broke off at a tangent and left
the camp, and that every thing will, of course, go on to the
catastrophe without further interruption.

   Kind hearted and gentle reader, be not too sanguine. Who
can tell what is to fall out between the cup and the lip?
Incidents seem to have multiplied intentionally to interrupt
poor Isaac's narrative. Besides, let any one consider how he is
to liberate and get free of this group of interesting individuals,
locked up, as they were, to perish on the top of the castle of
Aikwood. It was no difficulty to Isaac. He was one of those
wise and downright men who know that truth tells always the
best, and to that maxim he adhered. But the worst of it was,
there were so many truths, that any body may see it was
scarcely possible to get them all narrated in their proper
places; and that, without the help of the waggoner, the task
could never have been effected.
   ""Gude sauf us, but it is gaun to be an awsome night!''
said Charlie Scott, as he stepped the last up into the dark
apartment in which the party had spent the greater part of
the day, and into which the storm had now driven them once
more.
   ""Gaun to be?'' said Tam, taking up Charlie's words; ""I wot
nae what it is gaun to be, but it is an awsome night already.''
   ""It brings me in mind of a story,'' said Gibbie, ""that I hae
often heard about a friar Gabriel o' St Martin's that raised
the deil--''
   ""Od, Sir, an ye dare, for the blood of you, speak another
word about raising the deil the night,'' cried Charlie, inter-
rupting him, ""may I be chased by an Englishman, if I dinna
thraw you ower the castle wa'. We little ken wha may be
near, or wha may be amang us. Gin ane may judge by appear-
ances, that same chap ye hae named (gude keep me frae
repeating it) isna in his ain hett hame the night. Heaven
defend us, hear how the wind howls and sobs! I wish yon
auld houses o' the mill may be safe aneuch; they stand sair
exposed. Hech-ho! hear til't! There will be mony cauld quar-
ters on Otterdale the night, but there is some a-wanting there
that wad be blithe to share them.''
   The friar now set himself to strike a light, which at last he
effected; and collecting the oil which remained in the lamps
into one, they found, to Charlie's great satisfaction, that they
had as much as would burn over-night, besides some remnants
of waxen torches. Of all the huge remains of their morning
feast that they had seen removed from the table, they could
not find one vestige, even though the trenchers remained in
the chamber as it was termed; but, to their great joy, they
found an article as precious to the eyes, for about two-thirds
of the huge flagon of the wine of Palestine were still left. This,
in the total absence of fuel, was a discovery of some conse-
quence; and the friar, in the like absence of a steward, took
that office voluntarily on himself.
   When the lamp was kindled, the first thing that Delany
did was to dress the poor poet's hurt head, and bind it up
with a napkin. This attention and kindness so thrilled his heart
that he could not refrain from tears, and seemed to rejoice in
his wound; and as both he and his adored maiden had seen
the ruffian steward transported up to heaven in a flame of
fire, they were freed from all terror on his account; and, not-
withstanding all the perils with which they were surrounded,
they appeared composed, and, if not happy, were at least
quite resigned to their fate.
   The great Master sat muffled up in his cloak, and apart by
himself, his brows screwed down into deep curved wrinkles,
and his sunken eye fixed on the ground. The friar filled a cup
of wine, and, bowing, presented it to him the first. He took
the cup, and drank if off, but he spoke not a word: his
piercing eyes glimmered round the chamber; he uttered a loud
groan, and, apparently, sunk again into his deep reverie. The
transportation of his steward, while in the very act of braving
the friar's might, made a terrible impression on his mind, and
he weened that he now sat before his master--before one that
might send him on a voyage of the same nature whenever he
chose; and therefore he judged, with great reason, that for
a space it behoved him to keep on good terms with so dan-
gerous an opponent.
   When each had taken a cup of the elevating beverage, the
effect was delightful; all their cares, dangers, and wants faded;
the terrors of the storm, that was still increasing, only startled
them now and then, as it rattled on the tower, or yelled thro'
the crevices below. They chatted, laughed, and broke jokes on
each other, till even the sublime Master was diverted from
his profound and brooding ideas, and smiled at the rustic
simplicity of the characters around him. The laird of the
Peatstacknowe told a great number of his long stories, of
which something that was seen, said, or done, always re-
minded him; Charlie told confused stories about battles and
forays; and the poet came in always between with his rythma-
tic descriptions and allusions; until at one time the associations
of ideas followed one another in a manner so truly ludicrous,
that the enchanter actually laughed till he had almost fallen
into a fit, a thing that had not for twenty years been witnessed
of him.
   The tempest still continued to rage, and the loquacity of
the party beginning to flag, they became drowsy as midnight
approached. The friar then looking gravely around him, and,
laying aside his hood, took a small psalter book from his
bosom; which volume also contained the four books of the
Apocalypse; and, opening it reverendly, he proposed that they
should all join in performing the evening service to the Virgin,
and the hymn to the Redeemer. Delany rose from off the lap
of the poet's cloak, where she had sat nestling all the evening,
and came and kneeled down at the friar's knee. The Master
started up with a look of indignation, stamped on the floor,
and ordered the friar to put up his vain book, and refrain
from such flummery in his presence. The friar looked at him
with a steady countenance.
   ""It is not meet that I should obey man rather than God,''
said he. ""I have taken a vow in the face of Heaven, and I will
pay that vow in spite of men and devils. I will sing my holy
hymns with these my friends and children, and he that listeth
not to join, let him be accursed, and translated from the
presence.''
   This last sentence sounded rather equivocally in the
Master's ears. He liked not such a translation as he had lately
witnessed; for, with all his power and mysterious art, the
terrors of death still encompassed him about. He held his
peace, therefore, although he growled like a lion at bay at
     being bearded thus in his own castle.
   The friar proceeded as he had said, and all the restjoined
him with becoming devotion, save the poet, whose orisons
that night were somewhat cold. He could not brook the
charm that drew Delany from his own side to his rival's knee.
The Master sat aloof, biting his lip, and grinning in derision;
but, at one part of the service, although the curate does not
say what part, he was insensibly overcome, and fell into a
painful oblivious dream. The strains of the sacred music,
simple as they were, stole over his soul, as some remembrance
of early life sometimes steals into the heart of enfeebled age,
reminding the decaying and dying worm of joys he can no
more see, and of feelings of delight that have perished for
ever.--If a son of the mountains of the north were transported
to some far foreign clime, and there doomed to remain for
life: After sojourning in that land for half an age, until grey
and bowed down, if by chance, on some still evening, or may-
hap through the eddies of the storm, one of the strains of his
native land were poured on his ear, think of the recollections
it would awaken in his mind: How painfully thrilling the sen-
sations! Would it not be like the last sweet beam of a hope he
was never more to cherish, a last look of all that was dear on
earth?--Such were the feelings that crept unbidden over the
soul of the enchanter, on hearing the sweet sounds, that remin-
ded him of a religion he had for ever renounced, and in which
he had never firmly believed till he had believed to tremble.
   In this troubled trance he sat leaning against the wall, until
the worshippers had reached the middle of the hymn to the
Saviour. He then was seized with strong convulsions, and,
rising up, with staggering steps, he fled from the chamber,
crying as he went,--""Cruel and improvident things! reptiles!
cursed, whining sycophants! that would send me to my doom
before my time!'' He rushed out to the battlements, and,
groping his way through the storm, took shelter in the
narrow staircase, that he might hear no more of the sounds
that thus troubled and distracted his soul. What dread had
seized him, or what he had seen or heard, his guests knew
not; but they had scarcely well ended their hymn, when he
rushed again in among them, with wildered looks, and his hair
standing on end, seeming glad to take shelter among those
from whom he had so lately fled with abhorrence. No one
enquired the cause, for all were so weary and overcome with
slumber; and every one then composed himself to sleep in the
manner that best suited his convenience.
  The storm continued to rage with unabated violence, and,
after they had laid themselves down, they found that the
castle was all tottering and quaking before it. The firmest
heart was appalled; for the rocking of the castle was not all;
every now and then they heard eldritch shrieks arising, as of
some wretch perishing, or rather, as some of them thought,
like the voices of angry spirits yelling through the tempest.
When one of these howling sounds came on the blast, every
one of our prostrate friends breathed a deep sigh, or uttered
some exclamatory sound, Charlie had always one, which he
uttered even after he was asleep. ""Hech! Gude sauf us, sirs!
what will be the upshot o' a' this?'' The Master sat muffled up
in the corner close behind them, and after he judged them all
to be asleep he fell a-crooning a sort of hymn in an under key.
The poet was, however, more than half awake, and gathered
up some broken fragments of it. Poets are never to trust when
they give quotations from memory out of the works of others;
and perhaps honest Carol might add some bombastic lines of
his own, but he always averred that the following lines formed
a part of the warlock's hymn.

                   ""Pother, pother,
                   My master and brother!
                    Who may endure thee,
                    Thus failing in fury?
            King of the tempest that travels the plain;
            King of the snow, and the hail, and the rain,
            Lend to thy lever yet seven times seven,
            Blow up the blue flame for bolt and for levin,
            The red forge of hell with the bellows of heaven!
                    With hoop, and with hammer!
                    With yell, and with yammer;
                    Hold them at play,
                    Till the dawn of the day!
                    Pother! pother!
                    My sovereign and brother!

                    ""0 strain to thy lever,
                    This world to sever
                    In two or in three--
                    What joy it would be!
            What toiling, and moiling, and mighty commotions!
            What rending of hills, and what roaring of oceans!
            Ay, that is thy voice, I know it full well;
            And that is thy whistle's majestic swell;
            But why wilt thou ride thy furious race,
            Along the bounds of vacant space,
            While there is tongue of flesh to scream,
            And life to start, and blood to stream?
                    Yet, pother, pother!
                    My sovereign and brother!
             And men shall see, ere the rising sun,
             What deeds thy mighty arm hath done.''


   If it was true that the Master sung these ridiculous lines,
which is not very likely, his ""sovereign and brother'' had not
accepted of his sacrifice, nor paid due deference to his incense
of praise. For, a little before the break of day, our group were
aroused from their profound slumbers by loud and reiterated
cries. The lamp was still burning feebly and blue. Charlie,
whose ear was well trained to catch any alarm, was the first to
start up; but the sight that he saw soon laid him again flat on
the floor, though not before he had leaped clear over a narrow
oak-table and two forms.  There was a black being, that
appeared to be half-man and half-beast, dragging Master
Michael Scott along the room toward the door; yet he dragged
him with difficulty, and at some times the wizard seemed
rather to prevail. Horrible as this phantom was, all those who
saw it agreed that there was something about it that instantly
reminded them of the late seneschal; and, as they raised their
heads and beheld it, every heart was chilled with terror.
Charlie pronounced his short, loud prayer, which has already
been recorded in this history, and which consisted merely of
one vehement sentence of three syllables; yea, he pronounced
it as he flew; and then squatting in a corner, and covering his
head with his cloak, that, whatever dreadful thing happened,
he might not see it, there he lay repeating his little prayer as
fast as human breath could utter it.
  The demon struggled hard with the Master; and the latter,
as may well be supposed, exerted his utmost power,--so that
his adversary only got him toward the door as it were by
inches. When he found himself losing ground, he always
made a certain writhing motion, which cannot be described,
and which every time extricated him somewhat from his
adversary's clutches. Then the apparition laid hold of him
again by the left side with his lobster claws, and that gripe
uniformly caused the wizard to utter a loud and piercing cry.
At such times Charlie's little prayer might be heard waxing
still louder as the strife increased; and, though he lifted not
his face from the earth, he continued a kind of spurning
motion with his feet, as if he would fain have burrowed under
the wall like a mole.
  For a long time no one durst move to the Master's assistance.
The scene so far surpassed ought they had ever conceived
in horror, that their senses remained altogether benumbed.
The combat continued with unabated ardour. The Master
foamed at the mouth, his hair stood all on end, and his
bloodshot eyes stared wildly, as if they would have started
from their sockets. At length the fiend so far prevailed as to
drag the Master close to the door, where he threw him down,
and made a motion as if he would have dashed him through
below it. But Michael was flesh and blood, and could not enter
nor depart by the key-hole, or the foot of the door, like the
beings with whom he had to do. The demon therefore tried
to open the door; but the enchanter's muscular frame being
jammed against it, it could not be opened at once. Michael's
efforts were now directed to that object alone, namely, the
keeping of the door shut, and he exerted himself till his re-
maining strength was exhausted, but at last suffered himself
to be dragged back from the door, repeating these words as
he lay flat on his back:--""'Tis done! 'Tis done! 'Tis over!
'Tis over!''
  The lookers on sat and trembled, all save the friar, who
had by that time somewhat rallied his scattered senses, and
stood on his feet. The fiend had dragged the Master back
from the door by the feet, and holding him down by the grey
hair with one hand, he opened the door with the other; then,
stooping down, he twisted the one hand, armed with red
crooked claws, in his hair, and the other in his long grizzled
beard. The friar had stepped forward, and, at that moment,
laying the rood on the Master's forehead with the one hand,
and the open Book of the Gospels on his breast with the
other, he pronounced a sacred Name, and in that name com-
manded the demon to depart. Swift as the javelin leaves the
hand of the warrior, or the winged shaft flies from the bow-
string, did the monster fly from the symbols of a creed by
which he and his confederate powers were all controlled, and
from a name and authority at which the depths of hell
trembled. He rushed out at the door with a yell of dismay,
and threw himself from the battlement on the yielding wind.
The friar peeped forth after him, but he only heard a booming
sound, which died on the gale, and beheld like a dragon of
blue livid fire flying toward the east, in the direction of the
hill of Eildon.
   The friar returned into the chamber with a countenance
beaming with joy. No conqueror ever returned from the field
of battle with an exultation of mind so sublime as that which
now lighted up his uncourtly mien. His victory had been so
sudden and so complete, that all present were astounded at
the greatness and extent of his power, and none of his friends
doubted that his might was as far above that of their host as
the sun or the stars are above the earth. They had in this
instance seen it exemplified in a manner not to be disputed;
and there was the Master himself still sitting on the floor, and
gazing on his deliverer with astonishment.
   ""Man, may I not thank thee for this?'' said he.
   ""No,'' said the friar, ""think not of a poor mortal thing like
me, overcome with sins, faults, and follies: You are freed for
this time; but thank One who is greater than I.
   ""True; I am freed for the present,'' said the Master; ""but it
is by a mode, and by a power, that I dare not, for my existence,
acknowledge or acquiesce in.''
   When Charlie heard by what was passing that the devil had
been vanquished and was fled, he called out with a voice that
seemed to come from under ground,--for he was so muffled
up in his cloak that the sounds could scarcely be heard,--
""Friar, steek the door.'' The good man obeyed, and as soon
as Charlie heard the welcome sound, he raised his face, which
was much of the same colour as a living lobster, and, standing
on one knee, viewed all the faces and corners with that elo-
quence of eye which is quite indescribable. How superior was
it to his blunt address:--""Gude sauf us, callans, is a' safe?--Is
the coutribat ower? Sic a fie-gae-to as yon I saw never! Hech!
but it is an unsonsy place this! I wadna live here an there
warna another place to be had aneath the shoulder o' heaven.''
   A long discussion now commenced between the friar and
the Master, on the principles which each of them professed.
That colloquy is too serious, and too tedious, to be copied at
full length in this place; but it amounted simply to this,--
That the one considered the Christian Revelation as the source
of all that is good, wise, or great among men. The other had
disbelieved it from his youth upward; and, not being able to
come to any conclusion from ought he could learn among men,
he had besought communion with the potent spirits of the
elements; and, after seven years of unparalleled suffering,
such as cannot be named, had attained what he sought. These
had confirmed him in his infidelity. He had entered into a
league with them, renouncing, for ever and ever, all right in a
Redeemer, and signing the covenant with his own blood. That
afterwards he had rejoiced in this fellowship, which had
enabled him to do deeds such as no other man could perform,
till by degrees he discovered that the meanest professor of the
religion of Jesus, if influenced by faith and sincerity, had the
power of counteracting these mighty spirits, and of frustrating
their highest intents. That then his eyes were opened when it
was too late, and he only believed in time to tremble and
despair. The friar urged the inexhaustible riches of heavenly
mercy; but the Master spurned at it, declaring his resolution
to abide by his covenant, whatever his fate might be. He
despised the very name and nature of repentance, and would
rather suffer with the colleagues he had chosen, he said, than
whine and cringe to another master.--""Though I now feel to
my sorrow that they are subordinate,'' added he, ""yet are they
mighty and powerful, beyond what thou canst comprehend;
and why may not I be a sharer in their energies in a future
existence as well as in this?''
   The friar gazed and trembled when he heard the wild and
erratic ideas of this extraordinary man; and, ceasing to reason
further with him, he enquired how it came that some of these
mighty associates of his were his enemies, and seemed but to
watch an opportunity of tearing him in pieces.
   ""They are jealous of their rights, and capricious beyond all
conception,'' said he. ""The utmost circumspection is not fit
to keep on fair and equal terms with them. Even yet I do not
know but that this is to be my last night here. If I have gone
beyond my commission in the orders I have given, then am I
doomed to be their bond slave for ages: but if I am within
my limited bounds, and the work is effected, then shall I still
be obeyed for a time and a season. Would that it were morning
that I might know the worst!''
   ""Scarcely dost thou need to express thy wish again,'' said
the friar; ""for, lo, the day dawneth in the east, and the sha-
dows flee away before it; the winds have gone to their cham-
bers to sleep, and the rains are over and gone. Let us walk forth
and see how the darkness fadeth before the face of the day, and
all that is stirring abroad on the fair face of the creation.''
   The Master did not move, for it was yet but twilight, and
nothing could be seen distinctly; but the friar stepped down
to the battlements, and Charlie, who looked on him as their
only safeguard, followed. The poet would doubtless have
followed also to have seen the dawn of the morning after a
storm; but, like all the rhyming race to this day, he was en-
slaved by the eyes of a maid, languished in chains, and could
not move but as she moved. Alas for the poor amorous poet!
The others lay in a sluggish and restless slumber.
   The friar and the bold yeoman strode together along the
paved way, and looked abroad; but they could see only the
clouds whitening in the eastern horizon, without being able
to distinguish wood from waste, or land from water.
   ""Let us kneel down and pray, my son,'' said the friar, ""even
in this quiet place, where we shall be freed from the interrup-
tions of the wicked one; for great and manifold are the dangers
that surround us. I see not what remains for us, but either to
throw ourselves from the walls and perish, or remain where
we are and feed upon one another.''
   ""It is an awsome eternitive, man,'' answered Charlie; ""I'm
sure an ye think praying will do ony good, I shall take off my
bonnet and kneel down on my knees, and hearken weel; but
what mair can I do?''
   ""You can join with me in spirit, my son,'' said the friar,
and pray with your heart.''
   ""I am sure, gin I but kend the process, I am very willing,''
said Charlie. With that he took off his steel belted bonnet,
and kneeled reverendly beside the friar, who prayed so fer-
vently and sublimely for deliverance, that Charlie looked
about every minute, not only then, but all that morning, to
see by what means they were to be delivered; for he had no
doubt but they would be set free to a certainty, and that
in a very short time.
   When they arose, the first word that the friar said was the
following fervent exclamation--""Blessed Virgin! What do I
see?''
   Charlie looked all about for some approaching miracle; he
had even some hopes of seeing a detachment from the war-
den's army; but his eye ranged the dusky fields in vain.
   ""What a strange world we live in!'' rejoined the friar:
""Yea surely there are things in heaven and in the earth, and
in the waters,--yea many things, of which man knoweth no-
thing! Why art thou gazing abroad on all nature, my son?
Turn thine eyes toward the east, and tell me what thou seest.''
   Charlie did so; and, on the instant, the two friends were
standing fixed in amazement like two statues. They moved
not, save, now and then, to steal a momentary glance at each
other. The great mountain of Eildon was actually rent in
pieces from the top to its very foundations, and piled up in
three towering spiral mountains, as they remain to this day.
Only at that time they were taller, darker, and more uniform.
   It was a scene of wonder not to be understood, and awfully
impressive. The two rivers flowed down their respective vallies,
and met below the castle like two branching seas, and every
little streamlet roared and foamed like a river. The hills had a
wan, bleached appearance, many of the trees of the forest
were shivered; and, towering up against the eastern sky, there
stood the three romantic hills of Eildon, where before there
was but one.
   The friar was the first to move from his trance, stepping
away in deep meditation. Charlie was by this time likewise re-
leased from the spell, and he ran to the door of the high
chamber, calling aloud, ""Come a' out, sirs, come a' out. The
like o' this was never seen sin the warld stood up!''
   They came forth accordingly, and their consternation was
correspondent to the extraordinary event. But when the
Master came out, and saw what was done, he shouted, and
leaped on the battlement like one frantic, boasting, and utter-
ing words of terrible blasphemy. He looked on the mountain
of Cope-Law, and he could scarcely believe his eyes when he
beheld it standing in one unskaithed unbroken cone, as it had
done for ages. He looked again to the three mountains of
Eildon, and his exultation and blasphemous boasting was
redoubled.
   ""So, all that you and your master can effect,'' cried he, ""is
to throw a little glamour on the sight,--is to practise a little
deception! I never weened the monkish art or profession to
consist of more. See what my sovereign and master can do!''
   ""Hold there,'' said the friar. ""Who was it that made these
mountains at the first? Was that deception?''
   ""It was not thou,'' said the Master.
   ""But who was it, then, that sent up your wicked seneschal
into the stormy clouds in a flame of fire?'' added the friar.
""And who was it that saved your life, but this morning, from
a fiend that would have devoured you? Were these both
deceptions?''
   The Master's countenance fell. The friar said this, because,
in their present perilous situation, he wished to keep a little
awe over the wizard, and likewise to put a stop to the torrent
of blasphemy that proceeded from his lips.
   The morning advanced, the sun arose, but no assistance, no
relief appeared to our hapless prisoners. They had tasted no-
thing for a day and night, save one cup of wine each, and they
had not above as much more remaining. For all this the Master
was so much elated, that his behaviour was rather like that of
a person frantic with joy, than that of one shut up among
others to perish of hunger. His companions in misfortune
noted likewise that he was again disposed to be peremptory
and tyrannical with them, and they dreaded that his familiars
were again at his command.
   The men wrought all the forenoon endeavouring to break
up the iron door; but they neither had mattocks nor room to
work in, and they made no more impression on it than as
many mice would have done. They were now quite disconso-
late; and, being unable to do aught else, they puzzled them-
selves in accounting for the late steward's motives for having
locked it. They remembered that it was standing wide open
when they brought him up a prisoner before the Master; and
they likewise remembered of having seen him step into that
stair for a minute or two, immediately before he began to
brave the friar. Therefore, all that they could guess was,
that it had been locked with some fatal intent.
   The friar, perceiving that their efforts were vain, entreated
them to come in from the open air, and keep themselves
quiet and cheerful, that they might wear the longer. He
trusted in Heaven, he said, that they would be delivered, but
in the mean time it was absolutely necessary to use every pre-
caution; and for that purpose, he added, if one of them would
keep watch at each of the four windows, lest any passengers
or countrymen should come near, he would tell them a story,
which would at least have the good effect of keeping them
quiet. The Master was quite delighted with this proposal; and,
taking the flagon of wine, he proposed that they should share
it among them; but the rest opposed it, and contented them-
selves with half a cup each.
   Charlie was most of all cast down. He had heard a word
from the friar that morning that sunk deep on his heart. It was
something about eating one another! And not being able to get
rid of the thought, he brought it again overhead. The rest
were all struck dumb; for they perceived that it was but too
apparent it might come to that. The Master grinned darkly,
and said it was well. But Gibbie said he hoped, ""if things
came that length, they wad draw cuts, that ilka ane might get
a fair chance for his life.'' The poet begged, with tears in his
eyes, that, out of respect to the tender sex, they would leave
Delany the last, or at least that, when the lot fell on her they
would take him in her place. To this they all agreed with one
voice: but an extraordinary thought striking on the Master's
mind at that instant, he made a motion, and proposed to
settle if off hand by a vote.
   ""This maid, whom you term beautiful, is mine on one
condition,'' said he; ""and as I can now in a very short time
comply with that condition, I claim her as my own. I will
therefore give her to the man among you who tells me the best
tale. She shall be his, fully and freely, to do with her as
seemeth him good. And the man among you who tells the
worst shall, if need require it, be blooded and flayed in this
same chamber for food to his associates.''
   Charlie's blood ran cold within him at this proposal. He
almost thought he felt the flaying knife and the teeth of
the ravenous half-famished eaters; and when the Master called
out, ""Approve, or not approve?'' Charlie was the first to call
out, ""O! Not! not, not!'' He was seconded by Tam Craik, but
all the rest voted on the other side; so that they were left
in the minority, and the matter was finally decided to be
precisely as the Master had proposed. The poet stretched him-
self, so eager was he to begin; for his heart yearned within
him to win the beautiful Delany. Gibbie was also uplifted,
and sure of victory; but Tam and Charlie were both quite
hopeless and cast down.
                      CHAPTER XVII

   And I said unto him, Can'st thou tell unto thy servant what is the meaning
of this?
                                                <1Esdras>1


THE friar having volunteered a tale, the priority was un-
animously awarded to him: So, after the watches were set
and all quiet, he began the following singular narrative, without
further ceremony:


                    THE FRIAR'S TALE

                        CHAPTER I


   1. In the days of the years of my pilgrimage, it chanced to
me that I sojourned in the great kingdom that is toward the
south.
   2. And I passed through the city that lieth on the river of
the hills, unto the house of Galli the scribe, who was a good
man and a just.
   3. And he had one only daughter, who was unto him as a
treasure and an heritage, for her mother had been led unto
her people before the maid could distinguish between her
right hand and her left.
   4. And the maiden was fair to look upon;
   5. For her neck was as polished ivory, and her chin like the
ripened peach basking on a wall that looketh toward the
south.
   6. Her lips also were like the honeycomb; her teeth were
rows of pearl, and her breath was as sweet smelling incense,
and myrrh, and cassia.
   7. Her eyes were brighter than the dew of heaven, and her
hair was like the beams of the moon streaming through the
white clouds that are in the firmament of air.
   8. And I loved the maiden exceedingly; and my heart
burned within me; and I became as a dead man.
   9. And I wist not what to do, or what would become of
me; for the vows of the Lord were on me that I could not
wed; and I said, Woe is me, for I am undone!
   10. And I went in unto her, and communed with her of my
great love; and when she had hearkened to my voice, she
laughed me to scorn.
   11. And I said, Why dost thou laugh me to scorn? Knowest
thou not that I would lay down my life for thee? For I love
thee so much above all things that are on earth, that I would
even lick the dust from off thy feet.
   12. And she said, What wouldst thou have me to do?
   13. And I looked on my right hand, and on my left, and I
communed with my heart.
   14. And I perceived that the maid had asked aright, for I
knew not what I would have her to do; and lo my countenance
became abashed.
   15. And she laughed at me exceedingly; yea she laughed at
my calamity till the tears streamed from her eyes.
   16. I said therefore unto myself that I would die, and be
gathered unto my fathers; for how could I live to be a scorn
and a derision, and to be burnt up as with a devouring flame?
and I had many thoughts of unrighteousness dwelling in me.
   17. And she told her father of these matters; and Galli the
scribe was wroth with me, and said unto me, Why wouldst
thou betray my daughter, the child of my age, and the hope
of my grey hairs?
   18. Is it not better for thee to depart unto thine own
country, and to thy kindred, than commit this great wicked-
ness?
   19. And my spirit was grieved within me; nevertheless I
could not depart, for my heart clove to the maid, and I loved
her as my own soul.


                       CHAPTER II


   1. And it came to pass that the army of the prince of the
land encamped in that place;
   2. For he was a great prince, and had increased his army;
and he had captains over hundreds, and captains over fifties,
and captains over tens.
   3. And these were clothed in gorgeous apparel, in brocade
of gold, and in brocade of silver; and they were vain men, for
they had the plumage of birds upon their heads, and gems of
silver, and of gold, and of precious stones, on their breasts;
and swords girded on their thighs.
   4. And the damsel beheld them, and her heart danced with
joy; yea, her eyes followed them whithersoever they went.
   5. And I was more grieved than ever; therefore I counselled
her, and said all manner of evil of the men.
   6. But she would not hearken to my reproof, but cast all my
counsel behind her back; and she derided me.
   7. And it came to pass, in the process of time, that one of
the captains of fifty came to her, and spoke kind words unto
her, even great swelling words of vanity.
   8. And she hearkened unto him, and her ears drunk in his
burning speeches, even as the ox drinketh in water; and she
delighted therein; and he looked into her eye, and behold he
saw his own image impressed in it, as in a glass.
   9. And he looked into it many times, and it grew brighter;
and every time that he looked into it he saw his own image
the more deeply and strongly reflected, until he knew that he
lived in her heart.
   10. But her image was not in his eye.
   11. And I knew this, and was grieved. Therefore I with-
stood him to his face, and rebuked him; yea, and I also cursed
him.
   12. But the captain of fifty mocked me; he also told the
maid, and she became wroth with me, so that, the two being
combined against me, I could do nothing but sit down and
weep.
   13. And she gave unto him all that she had; yea she gave
him until she had no more to give, for she gave unto him her-
self.
   14. And her countenance was changed; her bright eyes
retained not their wonted brightness; her voice was broken,
and her tongue faltered in her mouth.
   15. But the captain of fifty regarded it not; for he left her
and went his way, and he did eat and drink, and made himself
merry with wine.
   16. And he said, What is a maiden that I should regard her?
or for what were the daughters of women formed but for my
pleasure?
   17. And the prince of the kingdoms of the land sent unto
his army, that they should go into a far country to fight
against the enemies of their lord the king. And the men pur-
posed to go; and the captain of fifty purposed to go also.
   18. And when the maiden heard of it her heart failed
within her, and she fell sick, and I feared it would be to
death.
   19. And I tried to comfort her; and I watched with her
day and night, and prayed many prayers for her; but she
became worse, for her spirit was wounded and cast down.
   20. And Galli the scribe was also sorely afflicted, and he
mourned exceedingly, saying, Alas! what shall I do for my
daughter! she who was the hope of my age, and my only
comfort here below. Wo is me, for she is dying of a lingering
disease, and I shall be left childless! Now Galli the scribe
knew not what the captain of fifty had done unto her, nor of
all that she had given unto him.
   21. So I went forth unto the host to seek this betrayer of
women, and to speak peaceably with him, and to reason with
him.
   22. But he knew me afar off, and said to his brethren, Lo,
here cometh that man of a strange country, let us make him
our sport.
   23. And they combined against me, and treated me with
great indignity; for they bound my hands and put me into the
river, and the flood carried me away, so that I said in mine
heart, lo, I shall be drowned, for there is not one to pity or
save me.
   24. But they took me forth before my breath departed
clean away; and they stripped me naked, and tied me to a
stake, and scourged me.
   25. And afterwards they stoned me out of the camp.
   26. And I was very wroth, and went unto the captain of the
host, and made my complaint known unto him.
   27. And I said, O my lord, hearken unto the voice of thy
servant. Behold one of your captains of fifty came unto the
house of Galli the scribe.
   28. And the man intreated him kindly, yet hath he betrayed
his daughter, and refuseth to do her justice; and the maid will
die, and her father, who is a good man, will go down to the
grave with her.
   29. And he answered and said unto me, What have I to do
with this matter, or with thee? As a maid treadeth the wine
press, so let her drink. It is not meet that I should be troubled
with these things.
   30. And I went away and wept bitterly, for I could find
neither consolation nor redress; and I saw that the wicked-
ness of the men was very great.
   31. Then I went and trimmed my beard, and borrowed me
a suit of armour; and I put an helmet of steel upon mine head,
and a breast-plate upon my breast, and I girded on a sword.
   32. And I went forth and challenged the captain of fifty
to fight with me.
   33. And I said in mine heart, Lo, I will fight this wicked
man, and overcome him. And I will take his sword from him,
and rend his armour from off his loins.
   34. And then will I compel him to do justice to those whom
he hath wronged, else will I smite off his head.
   35. And we met by the side of the river; and he discerned
me not through my disguise, for he said unto me, Who art
thou, or what have I to say to thee?
   36. And I said, For the wrong that thou hast done to the
house of Galli the scribe have I called thee out to battle.
   37. And he said, Thou hast done well. I will chastise thee
as thou deservest, that thou mayest learn how to lift up thy
hand against the servants of our lord the king.
   38. So we fought; and his hand was sore against me.
   39. For he drove me out of my place, and wounded me,
and my hope had nearly perished.
   40. But I prayed to the Lord for strength. And we fought
again; and the combat was very sore that day, and he pre-
vailed not against me.
   41. And after the combat had lasted until my breath was
spent, and my arm weary, by the help of the Lord I wounded
him in the loins, so that my sword found a passage through
his body, and he fell.
   42. And I was sore afraid; and fled away, and hid myself;
for I trembled at the thing I had done, because I perceived
that the last case was worse than the first.
   43. And when the soldiers came to him, he said that Galli
the scribe had sent out ruffians to slay him.
   44. And when these things were told to the captain of the
host, he was exceedingly wroth, and he sent forth men to
destroy the house of Galli the scribe, and to slay him, and
take his substance for a prey.
   45. And the captain of fifty died that night; and they buried
him with great lamentation, for they wept over him, saying,
Alas! our brother! for he hath been cut off before his time.


                       CHAPTER III


   1. And it came to pass, that after I had laid aside my
armour, and put on my pilgrim weeds, that I went forth into
the plain, and into the city.
   2. And when I heard the words of the captain of the host,
and the command that he had given, I hasted to the house of
Galli the scribe, and said unto him, Go to, put up all thy
money, and thy jewels, and fly for thy life, for behold evil
is determined concerning thee.
   3. But he would not hearken to my voice; for he said, I
have done no man wrong.
   4. And I intreated him, but prevailed not.
   5. Therefore I went unto his daughter, and told her of
what I had heard; and I said, Rise up, make haste and escape,
for the soldiers will abuse thee.
   6. And she was afraid, and said unto me, Take me, and
hide me for a short time, for thy words have never deceived
me.
   7. And I hid her in a palm tree, and remained with her.
   8. And the men who belonged to the captain of fifty,
even to him whom I slew in battle, came as they were com-
manded; and they entered into the possessions of Galli the
scribe, and they took all that he had for a prey, and burned
his house with fire.
   9. And we beheld all from our hiding-place, and were
greatly astonished; for we saw Galli the scribe flying through
the garden, and the soldiers pursuing hard after him, with
their swords drawn.
   10. And when his daughter saw it she shrieked and fainted
away; and when the men heard her voice they looked about,
and some of them ran into the arbour, but they found her
not, therefore they pursued after Galli the scribe.
   11. And I trembled sore, for I knew not if we were dis-
covered, neither could I support the maiden in her seat.
   12. For she beheld whose men they were that pursued
after her father to slay him, and she deemed that her captain
of fifty had sent out his fifty to devour them, yea to destroy,
and to slay, and to ravage; and there was no more spirit in
her.
   13. And I prayed to the Lord my God out from among the
branches of the palm tree, and he heard my voice.
   14. For the spoilers came, and they sought, but they
found us not.
   15. For their eyes were blinded that they could not see. We
beheld their eyes, and heard the threatenings that proceeded
out of their mouths, yet could they not perceive us.
   16. And their threatenings were filled with the abomina-
tions of iniquity, for the men were very wicked.
   17. And I took her out of the palm tree by night; and I
covered her with my sackcloth gown, and we tried to fly and
make our escape, but she could not; therefore my distress
was very great.
   18. And I carried her to the house of a poor widow in the
suburbs of the city, and I concealed her there till her strength
should recover.
   19. And I went about making many inquiries; and I heard
that the soldiers had taken Galli the scribe, and had given him
up to be persecuted, and tormented, and slain; also that the
whole army were abroad searching to recover his daughter, to
execute vengeance on her.
   20. And I was grieved for that I had done, and for bringing
evil on those I loved; for I knew that the men of the host
spoiled the people, and did according to their will.
   21. So I borrowed me a pilgrim's robes, and in these I
equipped the maiden; and when she was clothed in her
flowing sack-cloth gown, with her cross, scallop, and shell,
behold I myself could not discern her.
   22. And we escaped from the city by night, and journeyed
toward the north, and at break of day we came to the fords
of the great river, where we were encountered by three of the
soldiers of the guard, who waylaid us.
   23. And I said unto them, Whom seek ye? And they said,
We be sent out to seek the daughter of Galli the scribe, for
she hath betrayed one of the captains into her nets, and hath
robbed him, and also caused him to be cut off from his men;
therefore are we sent out to take her, that she may be
delivered into the hands of his men, that they may do to her
as seemeth good in their eyes.
   24. And the maiden trembled, so that the men beheld it;
and I turned and said unto her, Said I not that it was so?
   25. And I said furthermore, Sit thee down, my brother,
until we converse with these men, for they are good men, and
filled with wisdom; and lo, have not I strange things to relate
unto them?
   26. And the men sat down, and we sat down beside them.
   27. And I said, We are pilgrims and strangers, and come
from a far country. And they said, Peace be unto you.
   28. And I said, moreover, that it was given unto me to
dream dreams, and to see visions, and that I had a vision of
my head upon my bed, which was of this Galli the scribe of
whom they spake.
   29. For I saw and beheld that he had put forth his hand
on a captain of the servants of my lord the king, and had sent
forth his bravadoes, who had wounded him until the sword
passed through him, even from the left side unto the right.
And the men said, Is not this wonderful?
   30. And behold I saw the servants of my lord the king
enter the dwelling of the man, even of the scribe, and take
his goods, and him they pursued with the edge of the sword,
and took by the vineyard as thou goest down towards a
river.
   31. And they burned his house with fire, so that the flames
ascended up on high; and his daughter who was sick, and
concealed in an inner chamber, her also did they burn until
she was quite consumed.
   32. And the men wondered exceedingly; and they bowed
down their heads and said, Thou hast told unto us strange
things. It is even as thou hast said. Go on your way.
   33. And I blessed them; and they returned to tell unto
their captains the wonderful things which they had heard.
   34. And I fled with the damsel until I came to the sea; and
when we had found a ship we went into it, and I brought her
to my own country, but not to my kindred, for I placed her
in the holy isle near the river of the north.
   35. And she mourned night and day for her father, and
also for the captain of fifty, whom she called her husband;
for she dreaded that some evil had befallen unto him.
   36. For, on the day that he had sworn to her, he had given
her a graven image, which she kept hid in her bosom, and she
wept over it and kissed it.
   37. And I was grieved, and rebuked her, but she refused
to be comforted; and I went and came and brought her of the
good things of the land, for I loved her as the breath of my
nostrils.
   38. And when the days of her months were fulfilled, be-
hold she brought forth a daughter.
   39. And the babe was also beautiful to look upon. And the
bosom of the mother yearned over her child, and she called
her by her father's name, even by the name of the captain
of fifty.
   40. And she kissed her child, and wept over it day and
night; but the frame and substance of her body were wasted
away with perpetual grief, and I saw that the child would die.
   41. And when I saw the countenance that was once beautiful
as the morning bathed in tears, as her babe lay at a breast
in which there was no nourishment, I was exceedingly sorry
even unto death.
   42. And lo, I took the child and nourished it; yea I fed it
with bread and with wine, with butter also, and with honey
and milk from the beasts of the field; and the child was
restored.
   43. But the mother decayed like a flower that is cut down;
for the winds of grief had passed over her, and her spirit was
consumed. The summer came, and all the herbs of the field
were renewed, but the fairest flower of the land was bending
down to meet the clay.


                       CHAPTER IV


   1. And it came also to pass that as soon as I found myself
in a land of safety, I wrote many letters to Galli the scribe;
for I said, Peradventure he may escape out of their hands.
   2. I wrote also to the chief of our order, giving account of
the whole matter, and attesting the innocence of Galli the
scribe.
   3. But no answer came to me, therefore was I sore dis-
tressed; for I said, If the mother and babe both perish, what
shall become of me?
   4. And one day as I sat with the babe on my knee, I beheld,
and, lo, the eyes of the mother were fixed mournfully on her
babe, and she lifted them to my face, and looked at her babe
again.
   5. And I could not contain myself; so I lifted up my voice
and wept bitterly.
   6. But she smiled, and said, Wherefore shouldst thou weep?
Behold, am not I in the hand of the Lord? And my child, the
daughter of my youth, and of my love, thou also art in the
hands of thy Maker.
   7. May he lead thee, and guide thee, and keep thee from
the snares in which thy mother hath fallen.
   8. Though thou hast lost thy father, as I also have lost
mine, yet hast thou a Father in Heaven who will not forsake
thee. Neither shalt thou altogether lack a father's care here
below.
   9. And she said to me, Is it not even so?
   10. And I could not answer her, for I wept aloud; yea, I
even wept until the child grew affrighted, and wept also.
   II. And the mother took the graven image from her neck,
and from her bosom; and she kissed it, and hung it round the
neck of her babe.
   12. And she said, It is the image and likeness of thy father,
wear it, my child, till the day of thy death.
   13. Peradventure thou mayest fall among his people, and
among his kindred, for they were men of honour and renown.
   14. And she kissed her child, and said, Now shall I be
taken from thee, and go to my grave, and they will bury me,
my babe, among strangers, and there is none of my people to
shed a tear over me.
   15. And we all wept abundantly, and shed many tears.
   16. And while we yet cried aloud, lifting up our voices,
behold one entered in, and said, Peace be with you!
   17. And I discerned him not, for mine eyes flowed like
two fountains of water.
   18. But the woman cried out, and sprang from her couch,
and she clasped her arms around his neck, and said, My father!
my father!
   19. And behold it was Galli the scribe.
   20. And the woman said, Now hath my child found a
father indeed.
   21. And he said, Blessed and happy mayest thou be, my
daughter, for I bring thee joyful tidings, and blessed be this
man who hath befriended and saved thee. His intercession
hath also saved the life of thy father; all that was mine hath
been restored to me, yea, and more also.
   22. And I will give all unto thee and to thy child after thee,
and thou shalt have riches and honours in thy own country,
and among thy own people.
   23. But his daughter answered him not, for the words
died on her tongue; but she looked in his face and smiled,
and then she looked at her babe as it lay on my knee.
   24. And Galli the scribe was sore amazed, and said, What
aileth thee, my daughter? and why answerest thou not to
the words of thy father?
   25. And he held her in his arms, and her hands were
clasped around his neck that they would not be loosed.
   26. And behold there was a sound like a small voice
issued from her mouth, and the light of her eyes became dim,
and her head fell back over the arm of her father.
   27. And her gentle spirit departed away unto him that
gave it; for she spoke no more, neither breathed she any
more.
   28. And we buried her in the isle of the holy place, and
mourned for her many days.
   29. And I besought of Galli the scribe that he would leave
the child with me, that I might bring her up in our convent,
and breed her in the ways of purity and truth.
   30. But he refused, and said, I cannot part with the child
of my only daughter; she shall go with me and be the heiress
of all that I possess.
   31. And after I had blessed him, he departed with the
little maid to go to his own land, and I saw them no more.
   32. For after many years had elapsed, I went again into the
country beyond the river, and I visited the house of Galli
the scribe.
   33. But behold he had never returned to that place; and
the people of the land reported unto me, that he fell among
thieves, and was slain, and the babe was slain with him, or led
into captivity.
   34. The ways of heaven are unsearchable, and the hand of
man often worketh out its decrees. But for the misfortunes
that befel the house of Galli the scribe will I go mourning till
the day of my death.
                      CHAPTER XVIII

               Beef steaks and bacon hams
              I can eat as lang's I'm able,
            Cutlets, chops, and mutton pies;
                     Pork's the king o' a' the table!
                           <1Fragment of an old Bachanalian Song>1


""IT has made my heart very sair that tale,'' said Charlie; ""I
wish you hadna tauld it.''
   ""I think it is nae tale ata','' said Tam Craik: ""If I coudna
hae tauld a better tale than that, I wad never hae begun. I
could now wager sax merks, and sax brass mowdiworts to
boot, that the Gospel-friar is the man that shall be the first
to thole the knife. And what for should he no? He'll make
the best mart amang us.''
   ""I differ widely from you,'' said the poet, ""with regard to
the merits of the tale. I love the friar for telling it; and I love
him ten times better for the part he took in the transaction.
How I do admire the love that has no selfish flaw, no moiety
of sense to prompt its aberrations! Should I ever get free from
this vile pinnacle,--this grave in altitude,--I'll search the world
for that dear child, and find her too, if in the world she be.''
   ""Alas! I have searched, and searched in vain,'' answered
the friar. ""It was so long before I knew of the mishap of my
friend, and my darling child, that all memory of the trans-
action was lost. I would travel from sea to sea, and from the
river to the ends of the earth, to find out that dear, that
beloved maiden; and couId I find her I would yet put her in
possession of the inheritance of her father. For I have in-
structed the heads of our order, and they are preserving it in
their own hands as the patrimony of the orphan and the
fatherless.''
  During the time of the friar's narrative, Delany had been
sitting close by his knee in fixed and earnest attention; and at
this time there chancing to be a pause in the conversation, she
looked wistfully about, as if afraid she was going to commit
herself by telling a lie. But there was such a beam of intelli-
gence playing over her lovely countenance, that all the party
fixed their eyes on her, as if watching with the deepest interest
what she was going to say.
   ""I have a confused dream of having heard something of this
story before,'' said she: ""but subsequent events had quite
obliterated the traces of it from my memory, till this narra-
tive renewed them: I think I can give you some intelligence
of this lost maiden. You said she was called by her father's
name. Do you recollect what that father of her's was called?''
   ""Ay, that I will never forget while memory retains her seat
in this repentant bosom,'' said the friar. ""His name was
Captain Jacques De-la-Veny.''
   ""The very same,'' said the maid. ""Then do you know ought
of this? Or did you ever see it before?''--and she took a small
miniature from her bosom, holding it near to the friar's eye.
   ""By the blessed stars of heaven, and the Holy Virgin that
rules above them!'' exclaimed the friar; ""it is the graven
image of the captain of fifty whom I slew in battle. I saw it
placed in thy bosom, yea I held thee on my knee till that
chain of gold was locked about thy neck never to be removed.
Thou art indeed the daughter of the fairest and comeliest
among women,--of her whom I loved far above my own life,
and for whom I travailled in pain; yea, thou art the child that
I nursed and held on my knee, and all the inheritance of thy
fathers is thine. Blessed be thou, my daughter! and blessed be
they who have preserved thee! Come to my bosom my child,
my beloved, my fair one, that I may fall on thy neck, and
bless thee, and weep over thee; for my soul rejoiceth that I
have found thee.''
   The poet could stand it no longer; he threw himself at the
maiden's feet, and embraced them, and wept aloud. Charlie
was busied in drawing pictures of swords and cross-bows on
the floor with the brazen end of his sheathe, and always
giving a loud sob as if his heart would burst. Even Master
Michael Scott once drew the back of his hand across his eyes,
though no one believed it was ought of sympathy that
affected him.
   ""The abbreviation of the name was so natural in the mouths
of the people of this land,'' said the friar, ""that I wonder I
should never have recognised it, nor yet on the face of my
dear child the features of her mother. Hard has been thy lot,
and the lot of thy fathers, but blessings may yet remain in
store for thee.''
   ""I dinna see where they're to come frae,'' said Charlie,
sighing louder than ever. ""It wad be the hardest thing I ever
kend, if ane sae young, sae bonnie, and sae good, after a' that
she has borne, should be prickit up atween the yird and the
heaven here, to be hungered to dead, and then eaten wi' the
corbies.''
   ""Life's sweet to us a','' said Gibbie: ""She wad be as little
missed as ony that's here, if she <1should>1 be starved to death
wi' hunger.''
   ""She shall <1not>1 be starved to death wi' hunger;'' cried
Charlie, in a tone of valiant desperation. ""Na, na; afore she
die o' hunger after a' she has come through, I'll rather cut a
limb off my ain body and feed her wi't. An Corbie be spared,
I can e'en ride by the warden's side wi' a timmer ane.''
   ""God bless you, for a kind heart,'' cried the poet.
   ""Gin I thought I were to win her mysel,'' said Tam, ""and
win away wi' life out o' this luckless place, I wad do a good
deal for her; but if I trowed ony o' you were to get her frae
me--I'll no tell you how I feel.''
   "Just as a hungry man should feel,'' said Gibbie; ""and as
ane wha has starvation afore his een maun feel. It is e'en a
sair trial, and often brings me a-mind o' the story of Marion
Gib's callant.''
   Master Michael Scott, thinking that, in right of seniority,
the Laird was now about to begin his trial story for life or
death, made a signal with his hand for his guests to compose
themselves, which they did with one consent; while Gibbie,
pleased with the mark of deference shown to him, went on:--


   LAIRD OF PEATSTACKNOWE'S TALE


   There wad aiblins nane o' you ken Marion. She lived i' the
Dod-Shiel; and had a callant to the lang piper, him that
Squire Ridley's man beat at the Peel-hill meeting. Weel, you
see, he was a gilliegaupy of a callant, gayan like the dad o'
him; for Marion said he wad hae eaten a horse ahint the
saddle; and as her shieling wasna unco weel stored o' meat,
she had ill getting him mainteened; till at the lang and the
last it just came to this pass, that whenever Jock was i' the
house, it was a constant battle atween Marion and him. Jock
fought to be at meat, and Marion to keep him frae it, and
mony hard clouts and claws there past. They wad hae fough-
ten about a haggis, or a new kirning o' butter, for a hale hour,
and the battle generally endit in Jock's getting a', or a good
share o' ilka thing. (I wish we had sic things here, even though
we had to fight for them!) When he had fairly gained the
possession, by whatever means, he feasted with the greatest
satisfaction, licking his large ruddy lips, and looking all about
him with eyes of the utmost benevolence. Marion railed all
the while that the poor lad was enjoying himself, without any
mercy and restraint, and there wasna a vile name under the
sun that had ony signification of a glutton in it, that she
didna ca' him by. Jock took the bit wi' the buffet;--he heard
a' the ill names, and munched away. Oh, how his heart did
rejoice o'er a fat lunch o' beef, a good haggis, or even a cog o'
milk brose! Poor fellow! such things were his joy and delight.
So he snapped them up, and in two or three hours after he
was as ready for another battle as ever.
   This was a terrible life to lead. Times grew aye the langer
the waur; and Marion was obliged to hire poor Jock to Good-
man Niddery, to herd his kye and his pet sheep. Jock had nae
thoughts at a' o' ganging to sic a job at first; but Marion
tauld him ilka day o' the fat beef, the huge kebbucks, and the
parridge sae thick that a horn-spoon wadna delve into them,
till he grew impatient for the term day. That day came at
length, and Marion went away hame wi' her son to introduce
him. The road was gayan lang, and Jock's crappin began to
craw. He speered a hunder times about the meat at Goodman
Niddery's house, and every answer that Marion gae was better
than the last, till Jock believed he was gaun hame to a con-
tinual feast. It was a delightful thought, for the craving appe-
tite within him was come to a great height. They reached the
place, and went into the kitchen. Jock's een were instantly on
the look-out; but they didna need to range far. Above the
fire there hung two sides of bacon more than three inches
deep of fat, besides many other meaner objects: The hind legs
of bullocks, sheep, and deer, were also there; but these were
withered, black, and sapless in appearance. Jock thought the
very substance was dried out o' them. But the bacon! How it
did make Jock smack his lips! It was so juicy that even the
brown bristly skin on the outside of it was all standing thick
o' eenbright beaming drops like morning dew. Jock was
established at Goodman Niddery's; he would not have flitted
again and left these two sides of bacon hanging there for an
estate. Marion perceived well where the sum of his desires was
fixed, and trembled for fear of an instant attack: Well might
she; for Jock had a large dirk or sheathed knife (a very useful
weapon) that he wore, and that he took twice out of its place,
looked at its edge, and then at the enormous bacon ham, which
was more than three inches deep of solid fat, with the rich
drops of juice standing upon the skin. Jock drew his knife on
his sandal, then on the edge of a wooden table that stood
beside him, examined the weapon's edge again, and again
fixed his green eyes on the bacon. ""What do the people
mean,'' thought he to himself, ""that they do not instantly
slice down a portion of that glorious meat, and fry it on the
coals? Would they but give me orders to do it,--would
they even give me the least hint, how slashingly I would
obey!''
   None of them had the good sense to give Jock ony sic
orders. He was two or three times on the very point of
helping himself, and at last got up on his feet, it was believed,
for the sole purpose of making an attack on the bacon ham,
when, behold, in came Goodman Niddery.
  ""There's your master, sirrah!'' whispered Marion, ""haste
ye and whup aff your bonnet.''
  Jock looked at him. There was something very severe and
forbidding in his countenance; so Jock's courage failed him,
and he even took aff his bonnet, and sat down with that in his
one hand and the drawn knife in the other. Marion's heart was
greatly relieved, and she now ventured on a little conversation:
  ""I hae brought you hame my lad, Goodman, and I hope
he'll be a good servant to you.''
  ""I coudna say, Marion: Gin he be as gude as you ca'ed
him, he'll do. I think he looks like ane that winna be behind
at his bicker.''
  ""Ay, weel I wat, Goodman, and that's true; and I wadna
wish it were otherwise. Slaw at the meat, slaw at the wark,
ye ken.''
  ""That <1is>1 a good hint o' my mother's!'' thinks Jock to him-
sel: ""What though I should show the auld niggard a sample?
The folk o' this house surely hae nae common sense.''
  The dinner was now, however, set down on the kitchen-
table. The goodman sat at the head, the servants in a row on
each side, and Jock and his mother at the foot. The goodwife
stood behind her servants, and gave all their portions. The
dinner that day consisted of broad bannocks, as hard as horn,
a pail of thin sour milk, called whig, and a portion of a large
kebbuck positively as dry as wood. Jock was exceedingly
dissatisfied, and could not but admire the utter stupidity of
the people, and their total want of all proper distinction. He
thought it wonderful that rational creatures should not know
what was good for them. He munched, and munched, and
gnawed at the hard bread and cheese, till his jaws were sore;
but he never once looked at the food before him; but leaning
his cheek on his hand to rest his wearied grinders somewhat at
every bite he took, and every splash of the sour shilpy milk
that he lapped in, he lifted his eyes to the fat bacon ham with
the juice standing on it in clear bells.
  Marion wished herself fairly out of the house, for she
perceived there would be an outbreak; and to prepare the good
people for whatever might happen, she said before going
away,--""Now, goodwife, my callant's banes are green, and he's
a fast growing twig; I want to ken if he will get plenty o' meat
here.''
  ""I winna answer for that, Marion;--he shall fare as the
lave fare; but he's maybe no very easily served. There are
some misleared servants wha think they never get enough.''
  ""Tell me this thing, then, goodwife; will he see enough?''
  ""Ay; I shall answer for that part o't.''
  ""Then I shall answer for the rest, goodwife.''
  Jock had by this time given up contending with the timber
cheese, and the blue sour milk, and, taking a lug of a bannock
in his hand, the size of a shoe sole, he went away and sat down
at the fireside, where he had a full view of the bacon ham,
three inches thick of fat, with the dew standing on its brown
skin.
  The withered bread swallowed rather the better of this
delicious sight; so Jock chewed and looked, and looked and
chewed, till his mother entered into the security mentioned.
""That is a capital hint,'' thought Jock; ""I shall verify my
good mother's cautionry, for I can stand this nae langer.'' He
sprang up on a seat, sliced off a large flitch of bacon, and had
it on the coals before one had time to pronounce a word; and
then turning his back to it, and his face to the company, he
stood with his drawn dirk quite determined to defend his
prey.
  The goodwife spoke first up. ""Gudeness have a care o' us!
see to the menseless tike!'' cried she; ""I declare the creature
has na the breeding o' a whalp!''
  Jock was well used to such kind of epithets; so he bore
this and some more with the utmost suavity, still, however,
keeping his ground.
  Goodman Niddery grinned, and his hands shook with anger,
as if struck with a palsy; but for some reason or other he did
not interfere. The servants were like to burst with laughter; and
Jock kept the goodwife at bay with his drawn knife, till his
slice was roasted; and then, laying it flat on his dry piece of
bread, he walked out to the field to enjoy it more at leisure.
Marion went away home; and the goodman and goodwife both
determined to be revenged on Jock, and to make him pay
dear for his audacity.
  Jock gave several long looks after Marion as she vanished on
Kettlemoor, but he had left no kind of meat in her shieling
when he came away, else it was likely he would have followed
his mother home again. He was still smacking his lips after his
rich repast, and he had seen too much good stuff about the
house of his new master to leave it at once; so he was even
fain to bid Marion good-b'ye in his heart, wipe the filial tear
from his eye, poor man, and try to reconcile himself to his
new situation.
  ""Do you carry aye that lang gully knife about wi' you,
master cow-herd, or how do they ca' ye?'' said his master, when
they next met after the adventure of the bacon.
   ""I hae aye carried it yet,'' said Jock, with great innocence;
""and a gay gude whittle it is.''
   ""Ye maun gie that up,'' said Niddery; ""we dinna suffer
chaps like you to carry sic weapons about our house.''
   Jock fixed his green eyes on his master's face. He could
hardly believe him to be serious; still there was something in
his look he did not like; so he put his knife deeper into his
pocket, drew one step back, and, putting his under row of
teeth in front of those above, waited the issue of such an
unreasonable demand.
   ""Come, come; give it up I say. Give it to me; I'll dispose of
it for you.''
   ""I'll see you at the bottom o' the place my mother speaks
about whiles,'' thought Jock to himself, ""afore I gi'e my gully
either to you or ony that belangs to you.'' He still kept his
former position, however, and the same kind of look at his
master's face, only his een grew rather greener.
   ""Won't you give it up, you stubborn thief? Then I will take
it, and give you a good drubbing into the bargain.''
   When Jock heard this, he pulled out his knife. ""That is a
good lad to do as you are bidden,'' said his master. But Jock,
instead of delivering up his knife, drew it from the sheathe,
which he returned to his pocket. ""Now I sal only say this,''
said he;""the first man that tries to take my ain knife frae me--
he may do it--but he shall get the length o't in his monyplies
first.'' So saying, he drew back his hand with a sudden jerk.
   Goodman Niddery gave such a start that he actually leaped
off the ground, and holding up both his hands, exclaimed,
""What a savage we have got here! what a satan!'' And without
speaking another word he ran away to the house, and left
Jock standing with his drawn knife in his hand.
   The goodman's stomach burned with revenge against Jock;
so that night he sent him supperless to bed, out of requital
for the affair of the fat bacon; and next day the poor boy
was set down to a very scanty breakfast, which was not fair.
His eye turning invariably to one delicious object, the good-
man perceived well what was passing in his heart; and, on some
pretence, first sent away all the servants and then the goodwife.
He next rose up himself, with his staff in his hand, and, going
slowly away into the little parlour, said, as he went through
the kitchen, ""What can be become o' a' the fo'k?'' and with
that entered the dark door that opened in a corner. He made
as though he had shut the door, but he turned about within
it and peeped back.
   The moment that he vanished was the watch-word for Jock;
he sprang from his seat at the bottom of the table, and,
mounting a form, began to whang away at the bacon ham.
Some invidious bone, or hard object of some sort, coming
unfortunately in contact with the edge of his knife, his pro-
gress was greatly obstructed; and though he cut and sawed
with all his might, before he succeeded in separating a piece
of about two grounds weight from the main body, his master
had rushed on him from his concealment, and, by one blow
of his staff, laid him flat on the floor. The stroke was a sore
one, for it was given with extreme good will, and deprived
Jock of sensibility for the time being. He and his form both
came down with a great rumble, but the knife remained buried
in the fat bacon ham; and the inveterate goodman was not
satisfied with felling the poor lad, but kicked him, and laid on
him with his stick after he was down. The goodwife at length
came running, and put a stop to this cruelty; and fearing the
boy was murdered, and that they would be hanged for it, she
got assistance, and soon brought Jock again to himself.
  Jock had been accustomed to fight for his meat, and, in
some measure laid his account with it, so that, on the whole,
he took his broken head as little to heart as could have been
expected,--certainly less than any other boy of the same age
would have done. It was only a little more rough than he had
been prepared to look for; but had he succeeded in his enter-
prise, he would not have been ill content. The goodwife and
her maids had laid him on a kitchen bed and bathed his
temples; and on recovering from stupefaction, the first thing
he did was to examine his pockets to see if he had his gully.
Alak! there was nothing but the empty sheathe. Then he <1did>1
lose the field, and fell a blubbering and crying. The goodwife
thought he was ill, and tried to sooth him by giving him some
meat. He took the meat of course, but his heart was inconso-
lable; till, just when busy with his morsel, his eye chanced to
travel to the old place as if by instinct, and there he beheld the
haft of his valued knife sticking in the bacon ham, its blade
being buried deep in sappy treasures. He sprang over the bed,
and traversing the floor with staggering steps, mounted a fonn,
and stretched forth his hand to possess himself again of his
gully.
   ""Aih! Gudeness have a care o' us,'' cried the goodwife;
""saw ever ony body the like o' that? The creature's bacon
mad! Goodman! goodman, come here!''
  Jock, however, extricated his knife and fled, though he
could scarcely well walk. Some of the maids averred that he
at the same time slid a corner of the ham into his pocket; but
it is probable they belied him, for Jock had been munching in
the bed but the moment before.
  He then went out to his cows, weak as he was. He had six
cows, some mischievous calves, and ten sheep to herd; and he
determined to take good care of these, as also, now that he
had got his knife again, not to want his share of the good
things about the house, of which he saw there was abundance.
However, several days came and went, and Jock was so closely
watched by his master and mistress all the time he was in the
house, that he could get nothing but his own scanty portion.
What was more, Jock was obliged every day to drive his charge
far a-field, and remain with them from morn till evening. He
got a few porridge in the morning, and a hard bannock and a
bottle of sour milk to carry along with him for his dinner.
This miserable meal was often despatched before eleven
o'clock, so that poor Jock had to spend the rest of the day
in fasting, and contriving grand methods of obtaining some
good meat in future.
  There was one thing very teasing: He had a small shieling,
which some former herd had built, and plenty of sticks to
burn for the gathering or cutting. He had thus a fire every
day, without any thing to roast on it. Jock sat over it often
in the most profound contemplation, thinking how delight-
fully a slice of bacon would fry on it,--how he would lay the
slice on his hard bannock, and how the juice would ooze out
of it! Never was there a man who had richer prospects than
Jock had: still his happiness lay only in perspective. But
experience teaches man wisdom, and wisdom points out to
him many expedients.
  Among Jock's fat sheep there was one fat ewe lamb, the
flower of the flock, which the goodwife and the goodman
both loved and valued above all the rest. She was as beautiful
and playful as innocence itself, and, withal, <1as fat as she could>1
<1lie in her skin.>1 There was one rueful day, and a hungry one,
that Jock had sat long over his little fire of sticks, pondering
on the joys of fat flesh. He went out to turn his mischievous
calves, whose nebs were never out of an ill deed, and at that
time they had strayed into the middle of a corn field. As bad
luck would have it, by the way he perceived this dawted ewe
lamb lying asleep in the sun; and, out of mere frolic, as any
other boy would have done, he flew on above her and tried
if he could hold her down. After hard struggling he mastered
her, took her between his feet, stroked her snowy fleece and
soft downy cheek, and ever, as he patted her, repeated these
words, ""O but ye be a bonny beast!''
  The lamb, however, was not much at her ease; she struggled
a little now and then, but finding that it availed not, she
gave it over; and seeing her comrades feeding near her, she
uttered some piteous bleats. They could afford her no assist-
ance, but they answered her in the same tremulous key.
After patting her a good while, Jock began to handle her
breast and ribs, and found that she was in good earnest
<1as fat as pork.>1 This was a ticklish experiment for the innocent
lamb. Jock was seized with certain inward longings and year-
nings that would not be repressed. He hesitated long, long,
and sometimes his pity awoke,--but there was another natural
feeling that proved the stronger of the two; so Jock at length
took out his long knife and unsheathed it. Next he opened
the fleece on the lamb's throat till its bonny white skin was
laid bare, and not a hair of wool to intervene between it and
the point of his knife. He was again seized with deep remorse,
as he contemplated the lamb's harmless and helpless look; so
he wept aloud, and tried to put his knife again into its
sheathe, but he could not.
   To make a long tale short, Jock took away the lamb's life,
and that not in the most gentle or experienced way. She
made no resistance, and only uttered one bleat. ""Poor beast!''
said Jock; ""I daresay ye like this very ill, but I canna help it.
Ye are suffering for a' your bits o' ill done deeds now.''
   The day of full fruition and happiness for Jock was now
arrived. Before evening he had roasted and eaten the kidneys,
and almost the whole of the draught or pluck. His heart re-
joiced within him, for never was there more delicious food.
But the worst of it was, that the devils of calves were going
all the while in the middle of a corn field, which his master
saw from the house, and sent one running all the way to turn
them. The man had also orders to ""waken the dirty black-
guard callant if he was sleeping, and gie him his licks.''
   Jock was otherwise employed; but, as luck would have it,
the man did not come into his hut, nor discover his heinous
crime; for Jock met him among the corn, and took a drubbing
with all proper decorum.
   But dangers and suspicions encompassed poor Jock now on
every side. He sat down to supper at the bottom of the board
with the rest of the servants, but he could not eat a single
morsel. His eyes were not fixed on the bacon ham as usual,
and moreover they had quite lost that sharp green gleam for
which they were so remarkable. These were circumstances not
to be overlooked by the sharp eyes of his master and mistress.
   ""What's the matter wi' the bit dirty callant the night?'' said
the latter. ""What ails you, sirrah, that you hae nae ta'en your
supper? Are you weel eneugh?''
   Jock wasna ill, he said; but he could not enter into particu-
lars about the matter any farther. The goodman said, he
feared the blade had been stealing, for he did not kythe like
ane that had been fasting a' day; but after the goodwife and
he had examined the hams, kebbucks, beef barrel, meal girnel,
and every place about the house, they could discern nothing
amissing, and gave up farther search, but not suspicion.
   Jock trembled lest the fat lamb might be missed in the
morning when he drove out his flock, but it was never re-
marked that the lamb was a-wanting. He took very little
breakfast, but drove his kine and sheep, and the devils of
calves, away to the far field, and hasted to his wee housie. He
borrowed a coal every day from a poor woman, who lived in a
cot at the road side, to kindle his fire, and that day she noticed,
what none else had done, that his coat was all sparked over
with blood, and asked him of the reason. Jock was rather
startled by the query, and gave her a very suspicious look, but
no other answer.
   ""I fear ye hae been battling wi' some o' your neighbours,''
said she.
   This was a great relief for Jock's heart. ""Ay, just that,'' said
he, and went away with his coal.
   What a day of feasting Jock had! He sliced and roasted, and
roasted and ate till he could hardly walk. Once when the calves
were going into a mischief, which they were never out of, he
tried to run, but he could not run a foot; so he was obliged to
lie down and roll himself on the ground, take a sleep, and
then proceed to work again.
   There was nutrition in the very streams that issued from
Jock's hut; the winds that blew over it carried health and
savoury delight over a great extent of country. A poor hungry
boy that herded a few lean cows on an adjoining farm, chan-
cing to come into the track of this delicious breeze, became
at once like a statue. He durst not move a step for fear of
losing the delicious scent; and there he stood with his one
foot before the other, his chin on his right shoulder, his eyes
shut and his mouth open, his nose being pointed straight to
Jock's wee housie. The breeze still grew richer, till at last it
led him as straight as there had been a hook in his nose to
Jock's shieling; so he popped in, and found Jock at the sublime
enjoyment of cooking and eating. The boy gaped and stared
at the mangled body of the lamb, and at the rich repast that
was going on; but he was a very ignorant and stupid boy, and
could not comprehend any thing; so Jock fed him with a good
fat piece well roasted, and let him go again to his lean cows.
   Jock looked very plump and thriving-like that night; his
appearance was quite sleek, somewhat resembling that of a
young voluptuary; and, to lull suspicion, he tried to take
some supper, but not one bite or soap was he able to swallow.
The goodwife, having by that time satisfied herself that no-
thing was stolen, became concerned about Jock, and wanted
him to swallow some physic, which he peremptorily refused
to do.
   ""How can the puir thing tak ony meat?'' said she. ""He's a'
swalled i' the belly. Indeed I rather suspect that he's swalled
o'er the hale body.''
   The next morning, as Jock took out his drove, the good-
man was standing at the road side to look at them. Jock's
heart grew cold, as well it might, when the goodman called
out to him, ""Callant, what hae you made o' the gude lamb?''
   ""Is she no there?'' said Jock, after a long pause, for he was
so much astounded that he could not speak at the first.
   ""Is she no there!'' cried the goodman again in great wrath,
imitating Jock's voice; ""If ye binna blind, ye may see that.
But I can tell you, my man, gin ye hae letten ought happen to
that lamb, ye had better never hae been born.''
   ""What can be comed o' the beast?'' said Jock; ""I had better
look the house, she's may be stayed in by herself.''
   Jock didna wait for an order but, glad to be a little farther
off from his master, he ran back and looked the fold and sheep-
house, and every nettle bush around them, as he had been
looking for a lost knife.
   ""I can see naething o' her,'' said he, as he came slounging
back, hanging his head, and keeping aloof from the goodman,
who still carried his long pike staff in his hand.
   ""But I'll mak you see her, and find her baith, hang-dog,''
said he;'' or deil be in my fingers an I dinna twist your neck
about. Are you sure you had her yestreen?''
   O yes! Jock was sure he had her yestreen. The women were
examined if they had observed her as they milked the cows.
They could not tell. None of them had seen her; but they
could not say she was not there. All was in commotion about
the steading, for the loss of the dawted pet lamb, which was
a favourite with every one of the family.
   Jock drove his cattle and nine sheep to the field--roasted a
good collop or two of his concealed treasure, and snapped
them up, but found that they did not relish so well as for-
merly; for now that his strong appetite for fat flesh was some-
what allayed, yea even fed to loathing, he wished the lamb
alive again: He began, moreover, to be in great bodily fear;
and to provide against the probability of any discovery being
made, he lifted the mangled remains of his prey, and con-
veyed them into an adjoining wood, where he covered them
carefully up with withered leaves, and laid thorns above
them, ""Now!'' said Jock, as he left the thicket, ""let them
find that out wha can.''
   The goodman went to all the herds around enquiring after
his lamb, but could hear no intelligence of her till he came to
the cottage of poor Bessie, the old woman that had furnished
Jock with a coal every day. When he put the question to her,
the rock and the lint fell out of Bessie's hand, and she sat a
while quite motionless.
   ""What war ye saying, goodman? War ye saying ye had lost
your bonnie pet lamb?''
   ""Even sae, Bessie.''
   ""Then, goodman, I fear you will never see her living again.
What kind o' callant is that ye hae gotten? He's rather a sus-
picious looking chap. I tentit his claes a' spairged wi' blude
the tither day, and baith this and some days bygane he has
brought in his dinner to me, saying that he dought nae eat it.''
   Goodman Niddery could make no answer to this, but sat
for a while grumphing and groaning as some late events passed
over his mind; particularly how Jock's belly was swollen, and
how he could not take any supper. But yet the idea that the
boy had killed his favourite, and eaten her, was hardly ad-
missible: the deed was so atrocious he could not conceive any
human being capable of it, strong as circumstances were against
his carnivorous herd. He went away with hurried and impa-
tient steps to Jock's wee house, his old colley dog trotting
before him, and his long pike-staff in his hand. Jock eyed
him at a distance, and kept out of his path, pretended to be
engaged in turning the calves to a right pasture, and running
and threshing them with a long goad; for though they were
not in any mischief then, he knew that they would soon be
in some.
   The goodman no sooner set his nose within Jock's shieling
than he was convinced some horrid deed had been done. It
smelled like a cook's larder; and, moreover, his old dog, who
had a very good scent, was scraping among the ashes, and
picking up fragments of something which he seemed very
much to enjoy. Jock did not know what to do when he saw
how matters stood, yet he still had hopes that nothing wouId
appear to criminate him. The worst thing that he saw was
the stupid hungered boy on the adjoining farm coming wading
through the corn. He had left his dirty lean kine picking up
the very roots of the grass, and had come snouking away in
hopes of getting another fat bit for his impoverished stomach.
But, when he saw Goodman Niddery come out of the cot with
impassioned strides, he turned and ran through the strong corn
with his whole might, always jumping up as he proceeded.
   The goodman called angrily on his old dog to come after
him, but he would not come, for he was working with his
nose and fore feet among Jock's perfumed ashes with great
industry; so the goodman turned back into the house, and hit
him over the back with his long pike-staff, which made him
glad to give over, and come out about his business; and away
the two went to reconnoitre further.
   As soon as the old dog was fairly a-field again, he took up
the very track by which Jock had carried the carcase that
morning, and went as straight as a line to the hidden treasure
in  the thicket. The goodman took off the thorns, and re-
moved the leaves, and there found all that remained of his
favourite and beautiful pet lamb. Her throat was all cut and
mangled, her mouth open, and her tongue hanging out, and
about one half of her whole body a-wanting. The goodman
shed tears of grief, and wept and growled with rage over
the mangled form, and forthwith resolved (which was hardly
commendable) to seize Jock, and bring him to that very
spot and cut his throat.
   Jock might have escaped with perfect safety had he had the
sense or foresight to have run off as soon as he saw his master
enter the wood; but there seems to be an infatuation that
directs the actions of some men. Jock did not fly, but went
about and about, turning his kine one while, his nine sheep
another, and always between hands winning a pelt at one of
the ill-conditioned calves, till his incensed master returned
from the fatal discovery, and came up to him. There was one
excuse for him, he was not sure if the carcase had been found,
for he could not see for the wood whether or not his master
went to the very place, and he never thought of the sagacity
of the dog.
   When Goodman Niddery first left the wood, he was half
running, and his knees were plaiting under him with the
anticipation of horrid revenge. Jock did not much like his
gait; so he kept always the herd of cows, and the sheep too,
betwixt himself and this half-running master of his. But the
goodman was too cunning for poor Jock; he changed his
step into a very slow careless walk, and went into the middle
of the herd of cows, pretending to be whistling a tune, although
it was in fact no tune, but merely a concatenation of tremu-
lous notes on C sharp, without the least fall of harmony. He
turned about this cow and the other cow, watching Jock all
the while with the tail of his eye, and trilling his hateful
whistle. Jock still kept a due distance. At length the goodman
called to him, ""Callant, come hither, like a man, and help me to
wear this cow against the ditch. I want to get haud o' her.''
   Jock hesitated. He did not like to come within stroke of
his master's long stick, neither did he know on what pretence
absolutely to refuse his bidding; so he stood still, and it was
impossible to know by his looks whether he was going to
comply or run off altogether. His master dreaded the latter,
and called to him in a still kinder manner, until Jock at last
unfortunately yielded. The two wore the cow, and wore the
cow, up against the ditch, until the one was close upon her
one side, and the other upon her other. ""Chproo! hawkie!
chproo, my bonnie cow!'' cried the goodman, spreading out
his arms, with his pike-staff clenched fast in his right hand;
then springing by the cow in a moment, he flew upon Jock,
crying out, with the voice of a demon, ""D--n you, rascal! but
I'll do for you now!''
   Jock wheeled about to make his escape, and would have
beat his master hollow, had he been fairly started, or timeously
apprised of his dreadful danger; but ere he had run four or
five steps the pike-staff came over the links of his neck such a
blow that it laid him flat on his face in a mire. The goodman
then seized him by the cuff of the neck with the one hand,
and by the hair of his head with the other, and said, with a
triumphant and malicious laugh, ""Now, get up, and come
away wi' me, my braw lad, and I'Il let you see sic a sight as
you never saw. I'll let you see a wallydy sight! Get up, like a
good cannie lad!''
   As he said this he pulled Jock by the hair, and kicked him
with his foot, until he obliged him to rise, and in that guise
he led him away to the wood. He had a hold of his rough
weatherbeaten hair with the one hand, and with the other he
heaved the cudgel over him; and as they went the following
was some of the discourse that passed between them.
   ""Come away, now, my fine lad. Are nae ye a braw, honest,
good callant? Do nae ye think ye deserve something that's unco
good frae me? Eh? Ay, ye surely deserve something better nor
ordinar': And ye shall hae it too.''--(Then a kick on the poste-
riors, or a lounder with the staff.)--""Come your ways like a
sonsy, brave callant, and I'Il let you see a bonny thing and a
braw thing in yon brake o' the wood, ye ken.''
   Jock cried so piteously that, if his master had not had a
heart of stone, he would have relented, and not continued in
his fatal purpose; but he only grew the longer the more
furious.
   ""O let me gang! let me gang! let me gang!'' cried Jock.
""Let me gang! let me gang! for it wasna me. I dinna ken
naething about it ata'! ''
   ""Ye dinna ken naething about what, my puir man?''
   ""About yon bit sheep i' the wood, ye ken.''
   ""You rascal! you rogue! you villain! you have confessed
that you kend about it, when I wasna speiring ony sic question
at you. You hound! you dog! you savage wolf that you are!
Mother of God! but I will do for you! You whelp! you dog!
you scoundrel! come along here.'' (Another hard blow.) ""Tell
me now, my precious lad, an ye war gaun to be killed, as
ye ken something about killing, whether would you choose to
have your throat cut, or to have your feet tied and be skinned
alive?''
   ""O dinna kill me! dinna kill me!'' cried poor Jock. ""My
dear master, dinna kill me, for I canna brook it. Oh, oh! an ye
kill me I'll tell my mother, that will I; and what will Marion
say t'ye, when she has nane but me? Oh master dinna kill me,
and I'll never do the like o't again!''
   ""Nay, I shall take warrant for that: you shall never do the
like o't again!''
   In this melancholy and heart-breaking manner he dragged
him on all the way by the rough towsy head, kicking him
one while, and beating him another, till be brought him to
the very spot where the mangled remains of the pet lamb
were lying. It was a blasting sight for poor Jock, especially as
it doubled his master's rage and stern revenge, and these
were, in all conscience, high enough wrought before. He
twined the hapless culprit round by the hair, and knocked
him with his fist, for he had dropped the staff to enable him
to force Jock to the place of sacrifice; and he swore by many
an awful oath, that if it should cost him his life, he would do
to Jock as he had done to that innocent lamb.
   With that he threw him on the ground, and got above him
with his knees; and Jock having by that time lost all hope of
moving his ruthless master by tears or prayers, began a
struggling with the force which desperation sometimes gives,
and fought with such success that it was with difficulty his
master could manage him.
   It was very much like a battle between an inveterate terrier
and a bull dog; but, in spite of all that Jock could do, the good-
man got out his knife. It was not, however, one like Jock's,
for it had a folding blade, and was very hard to open, and the
effecting of this was no easy task, for he could not get both
his hands to it. In this last desperate struggle, Jock got hold
of his master's cheek with his left hand, and his nails being
very long, he held it so strait that he was like to tear it off.
His master capered up with his head, holding it back the full
length of Jock's arm; yet still being able to extricate his cheek
from Jock's hold, he raised up his knife in his right hand in
order to open it with his teeth, and, in the first place, to cut
off Jock's hand, and his head afterwards. He was holding
down Jock with his right knee and his left hand; and while in
the awkward capering attitude of opening his knife, his face
was turned nearly straight up, and his eyes had quite lost sight
of his victim. Jock held up his master's cheek, and squeezed it
still the more, which considerably impeded his progress in
getting the knife open; and, at that important moment, Jock
whipped out his own knife, his old dangerous friend, and
struck it into the goodman's belly to the haft. The moment
he received the wound he sprang up as if he had been going to
fly into the air, uttered a loud roar, and fell back above his
dead pet lamb.
   Lord, how Jock ran! He was all bespattered with blood,
some of it his own, and some of it his master's; wanted the
bonnet, and had the bloody knife in his hand; and was, with-
out all doubt, a wild frightsome-looking boy. As he sped
through the wood, he heard the groans and howls of his master
in the agonies of death behind him. Every one of them added
to Jock's swiftness, till it actually became beyond the speed
of mortal man. If it be true that love lends a pair of wings,
fear, mortal fear, lends two pair. There is nought in life I regret
so much as that I did not see Jock in this flight; it must have
been such an extraordinary one. There was poor Jock flying
with the speed of a fox from all the world, and yet still flying
into the world. He had no home, no kindred to whom he
durst now retreat, no hold of any thing in nature, save of his
own life and his good whittle; and he was alike unwilling to
part with either of these. The last time he was seen was by two
women on Kirtle-common. He appeared sore bespent, but
was still running on with all his might.
   The goodman was found before the evening, but only
lived to tell how he had come by his end. All his friends and
servants were raised, and sent in pursuit of Jock. How he
eluded them no man knows; but from that day Marion's
Jock has never been more seen or heard of in this land.
                       CHAPTER XIX

<1Cher.>1 That story of our captain's is rather an odd story. Is it not Mark?
<1Mark.>1 Rather of the wonderful.
                                                  <1Ford>1

""I DINNA ken but I could maybe tell ye something about
him an I liket,'' said Tam Craik; ""but I wad maybe be as wise
to haud my tongue.''
   ""I wad like very weel to hear mair about him,'' said Charlie;
""for his life has had such a queer beginning, it maun surely
hae had a queer end.''
   ""But what an it shouldna be endit yet, Yardbire,'' said
Tam: ""Marion's Jock is perhaps living, and life-like, to tell
his ain tale. However, we'll say nae mair about that just now,
till you tell us what you think o' Gibbie Jordan's tale. For
my part, I never heard a tale I was sae muckle interested in
a' my life.''
   ""It is ane o' the best tales <1o' the kind>1 that ever I heard,''
said Charlie.
   ""It is a most abominable tale,'' said the poet.
   ""In what way, Master Poet?'' said Charlie: ""I dinna like to
hear ony body condemned without reason.''
   ""It is for the badness of the moral that I do it dislike,'' said
the poet: ""The moral is so truly bad, all mankind it must
shock; it is to kill this harmless lamb, the flower of all the
flock,--to feed upon her lovely form that's fairer than the
snow,--to eat her flesh and drink her blood! It makes mine
eyes to flow!''
   ""Gude faith, an I thought that war his drift, I wad brain
him,'' said Charlie; ""and I confess it looks rather like it.''
   ""There can be no doubt of it,'' said Master Michael Scott:
""The maid Delany is the favourite lamb, whom he wishes you
to kill and feast on in the same delicious manner as did the
hero of his tale; and I am the goodman whom you are to
stick afterwards, and fairly make your escape.''
   ""It is a shocking tale I really doubt,'' said Charlie; ""and
throws a disgrace and an imputation o' something unseemly
on my chief and a' his friends, and I winna put up wi' it.''
   ""I do propose that from the walls the caitiff we do throw,''
said the poet; ""or kill and eat for dainty meat the laird of
Peatstacknowe.''
   ""I fear if the votes were to be ta'enjust now he wad hae an
ill chance,'' said Charlie: ""But it's fair in ha' where beards
wag a'. Let ilk ane o' us hae a fair chance. There may be mae
bad morals amang us. Wha's turn is't next?''
   Charlie himself, being next in point of seniority, was
called on for his tale.
   ""I hae been thinking hard what tale I should tell you,''
said Charlie; ""but I find I can tell nought but the thing I hae
seen, and I'll be pinched sair eneuch to make sense o' that.
Therefore, gin ye like, I'll tell ye my first adventure in war,--
for I aye mind it the best, and will do as lang as I live.''

                  CHARLIE SCOTT'S TALE

IT was under the command of Hab Elliot that I made my
first raide; a gay rough spun cout he was, and nae cannie
hand for a southland valley. Weel, you see, there was a chap
came to my father's house at Yardbire ae morning, and he
says to my father, ""Wat,'' says he, (that was my father's
name, what he ca'ed me Charlie for I dinna ken, for I never
spier'd,) ""Wat,'' says the chiel, ""ye maun raise your lads, and
tie on your wallets, and meet the warden the morn at the
Hawk-Hass, there's gaun to be a stoure on the east border.''
   ""An there be a stoure on the east border I's be there for
ane,'' said my father; ""but the de'il ae man hae I left but
auld Will Nicol and the callant Charlie. There hae seven men
o' Moodlaw and Yardbire fa'en sin Beltan. I canna mak men,
but I shall fight wi' them I have. As for Charlie, he disna
want spirit, but he's unco young and supple, and will mak but
a weak stand in a strong blast: Auld Will he kens brawly how
to take care o' himsel; and, atween the twa, I may be ill be-
stedde. But, gae as it will, I'll be there.''
   I was a massy blade that day when I gaed o'er Craik-
Corse riding at my father's side. I was sae upliftit I could
hardly sit on my yaud; and I saw my father was proud o'
his callant, as he ca'ed me,--that made me ten times waur.
The first men we came at were the lang-shankit Laidlaws o'
Craik; and then the Grahams o' Drife they came up wi' us;
and when we came to Howpasley, my father got the laird's
right hand, and we gaed ower Skelfhill-swire seven score and
ten, but there were only fifty o' us had horse, and mine was
ane o' the best.''
   ""Wha's this stripling that rides the good dun mare?'' said
the laird o' Howpasley.
   ""That's my bit niff-naff of a callant,'' says my father:
""That's my Charlie, cousin John.''
   ""He's a twig of a good tree,'' said Howpasley: ""I like the spark
gayan weel, if he wad ride a little evener up, an' no haud forrit
his head like a woodcock. But, my word, he has a lang arm!''
   ""Ay, a pair o' them, cousin,'' said my father; and the twa
carles hotched and leuch at my father's joke.
   The warden was lying at the Hawk-Hass wi' twal score o'
good men; but there were nane o' them had horses but the
Elliots, and some gentlemen of the Scotts. When Sir Ringan
saw us coming, he came out on foot to meet us; and when
the gentlemen of our party saw that, they lighted off their
horses, gae them to their henchmen, and walked out before
the men. Howpasley walked on the right hand, my father
next, and, as he desired me, I came slounging up next him. I
lookit best on foot, for my legs were sic a length; I was
higher in fact by half a foot than either John of Howpasley
or my father, but a perfect tripe for sma'ness. When our
captain, the brave Redhough, came near to us, I thought I
should hae swarfed; my heart dunt-duntit like a man humblin
bear, and I was maist gasping for breath. I had heard sae
muckle o' his bravery that I expectit an auld, gruff, austere
carle, as proud as Lucifer, to meet us. But, instead o' that, I
sees a boardly knight in the very prime o' manly beauty: his
cheeks were ruddy, his eyes dark, and the black beard on his
booner lip was just beginning to curl upward. My heart was
a' his ain at the first look; and I said to mysel, ""Ye're the man
that I'll risk my neck wi' ony day.'' I likit him sae weel that I
mind I thought I could just hae laid down in a gutter, and
letten him tramp on the tap o' me.
   He first shook Howpasley by the hand, and then my
father; and then he gave a broad look to my beardless face,
turning his eye back to my father's.
   ""That's my Charlie, Sir Ringan; my only son now,'' said
my father.
   ""You are welcome, cousin Charlie, to our camp,'' said he:
""If ye be as brave a man as your father, I shall never want a
hero at my side.''
   I should hae said something in return, but the deil a word
I could say, for I was like to fa' to the fuffing and greeting.
He spake to a' the gentlemen in the same kind hamely
manner; and then lookit at a' the men, and spiered how mony
belonged to every ane.
   ""And how many are with you, cousin Yardbire?'' said he.
   ""They are a' here that I hae, noble chief,'' said my father:
""Last year at this time I brought forty to the field, and now
I hae nae ane but my auld henchman and that lad. We hae
somehow been ower rash, and I now get a' the wyte. They ca'
me Wat the Waster,--and not a man will haud land under
me.
   ""Ay, ay, Yardbire,'' said he; ""you and your men hae
stood the brunt o' the battle ower often for me and mine.
But you are grown auld, and ye maunna claim the post of
honour ony mair till Charlie come to his strength. I'll make
you captain this day o' the best troop you ever led. You
shall hae the hard-headed Olivers, the grimy Potts, and the
skrae-shankit Laidlaws; and you shall form my flying party--''
   My father here interrupted him with ""Na, na, my master,
deil a flying troop I'll lead! if it binna afighting ane, it winna
follow me lang.''
   The warden smiled; and calling out all the men of the
families he had named, he put such of them as had horses
under the command of my father. Of these there were forty-
seven, so that our troop consisted of fifty men in all. We were
joined with the Elliots; but Habby having ninety men of his
own name, the command of the horse devolved on him, and
my father was only looked on as the second. I didna like this
unco weel; but it coudna be helped, and I was glad to be in
the field ony way.
   The first sight we got o' the English was frae the top o'
Penchrist; but a' that day we could only ken where they
were by the reek they were raising. My blood boiled when I
saw them burning the houses o' Scotsmen, and fain wad I hae
had a hand-shaking wi' them.
   There was ae message came after another a' that day. The
Kers had been beat and chased across the river, and the
English host had over-run their territory. Our chief didna
seem to care for that sae muckle as I thought, nor wad he
stir his foot till they crossed the Rule. There war mae men
came in every hour, for the beacons were a' bleezing; and as
soon as the English set foot on the territory of the middle
marches, away we rade straight to meet them.
   It was on the hill of Hawthornside where I first saw the
face o' an enemy; and I'll never forget sic queer strummings
as I had within me. Oh, I wad fain hae been at them! There
was a kind o' yeuk, a kind o' kittling, a sort o' prinkling in
my blood like, that I fand wadna be cured but by the slap o' a
sword or the point o' a spear. Instead o' being feared for a
wound. I wad hae gi'en my horse and light armour baith to
have had a good prodd frae an Englishman,--but I wad hae
liket that the warden had seen me.
   We kept the hills between them and the border wi' our
horse, but the foot kept the straits to the westward. Forbye
the Elliots, and my father's troop o' Potts, and Olivers, and
skrae-shankit Laidlaws, the warden had three hundred Scotts
on horseback; so that in all he had short o' five hundred
horse, and about eight hundred foot. At the head o' his
horse he rade straight up to the faces o' the English, and
challenged them in our king's name to tell their business in
that place. Up came an English knight, Sir Robert Neville of
Ravensworth, and he crackit baith proudly and saucily, but I
didna ken weel what he said. He threatened no to leave a
beast or a body atween Borthwick and the Border. Our
captain was as crouse as the other, sae there was nothing but
ill blude atween them; but the thing that we likit warst of a'
was the certainty that he had eight thousand men, being just
sax for our ane.
   The warden then held a council o' friends upon the top of
the hill, and in view of the English host. Some said ae thing
and some said another to him; but at length he turned to my
father, and he says, ""What says our cousin Walter o' Eskdale
to a' this? But I needna speer that,--he never gae me aught
but ae advice a' his life.''
   ""I'll tell you what I wad do, captain,'' says my father:
""Afore yon sun were twa cock-strides down the west I wad
fight them.''
   ""I kend what it wad be,'' said the warden. ""But, my brave
Yardbire, are you considering the disproportion o' force?''
   ""What's that to think about?'' said he, ""the greater the
better!''
   The warden claspit him in his arms, and the tears came
hopping down my muckle soft flobby cheeks.
   ""Yes, captain,'' continued my father, ""I hae been thinking
o' the odds against us, and I am thinking o't just now. But ye
ken art may do muckle.''
   ""Now, to hear him speaking about art!'' said the warden,
pushing him playfully around by the shoulder,--""To hear a
man speaking sagely about art, that never thought of ony
other art in his life but hard hand nevel! Pray now, my dear
cousin, will ye let us hear this deep profound art o' yours,
that will enable ae man to beat half a dozen?''
   ""I wad form our little army into the shape o' a wedge,''
said my father; ""and I wad yerk that little wedge into the heart
of their great log of an army, and split it a' to shivers.''
   ""G--d a mercy, hear to him!'' cried the warden. ""And pray
what is to form the point o' this wedge, Yardbire?''
   " Just my grey naig's head, captain.''
   ""I kend weel what it wad come to, cousin. Your grey
naig's head wad soon be cracked; but an ought were to
happen yours, what wad come o' me?''
   I thought sae muckle o' my auld father, that I couldna
haud my tongue nae langer, and that was the first word I ever
spake to the warden in my life. ""Never fear, my master,''
quo' I; ""it winna be ilka ane that sal crack his grey crown the
day.''
   ""Weel said, Charlie!'' cried the auld hero; and he waved
his cap round his head. ""Weel said, little Charlie! Now;
captain, for the wedge!''
   The warden lookit a good while at us without speaking,
and I gart mysel trow there was a blink o' admiration in his
dark eye; ""Ah, Wat, Wat!'' said he; ""weel do you ken I'm
ower ready to follow your mad schemes! But they have sae
often proved successfu', though wi' very hard wark, that I'll
e'en take the risk, and sey your skill aince mair.''
   He then drew his horse from the height into the glen
behind, and formed them precisely on my father's plan, with
a troop of horse in front, and one on each wing, the foot
being arranged in close column in the middle; and as my
father claimed the post of honour as his right, he rode the
front man: Will Nicol and I were next him, and behind us
there were four of the Laidlaws. I saw no farther, but was
informed after that when the horse made the charge, the foot
had orders to run and keep up with them.
   We took a sweep down the water to the north, and appeared
all of a sudden in the rear of the English army. Their scouts
had seen us, but could not guess our intent; for as to a
thought of our attacking them, that never entered their heads,
so that their host was not new-modelled farther than their
columns facing about toward us. They deemed we were
going to retreat toward the north, and were making ready to
pursue us, when all at once the point of the wedge turned at
a right angle, and rushed with all haste on the centre of their
line.
   Then there was such a hubbub, and calling, and noise of
armour rattling throughout their army as I had never heard!
My father spurred on, and, after some few hard blows,
opened the line. He had the least to do of any, for the ranks
opened naturally before him as he heaved his heavy sword. But
ever as their wedge grew thicker, their columns being pressed
together, lay the heavier on our flanks, and several gallant
men of the Scots fell. I saw naething o' this, but soon fand
the effects of it; for my father drove faster on than the
flankers could bear up after him, and our point lengthened
out and grew thinner at every step. I had been unco keen o'
fighting, but I got my fill o't then. I trow I gae some o' them
some gay good yerks on the chafts.
   Ravensworth by this time perceiving the danger in which
his army stood of being divided, brought up his side columns
and closed around our front. I heard him saying in a loud
exasperated voice, ""For shame, countrymen! for shame! will
ye suffer a landward Scots laird, an auld crabbit loun like
that, to ride in through your ranks and out through your
ranks, as they were files o' thistles? Down with the moorland
thief! down with him!''
   ""Aha, Robin o' Ravensworth is that you?'' cried my
father: ""An I win within sword's length o' you I shall settle
your crack.''
   As he said this he raised himself up in his stirrups. Auld
Will Nicol roared out, ""For Christ's sake, master, stop!'' But,
in place of that, he spurred up to the captain with all his
might, challenging him to come forward. Neville kept his
ground, and prepared for the attack, but refused to come
forward; and, just as my father and he began to measure
swords, my father was struck by six or seven spears all at
once on his left side. Some of these he received on his
buckler, but others of them pierced his side, and, before any
of us could lend him the least assistance, he was unhorsed.
Ravensworth also gave him a wound as he was falling. I, who
was close behind him, and ahead of all the rest, was now hard
bested. I clove the head of the first spearman on my left; and
ere I had recovered my sword from the stroke, Ravensworth's
sword was at my breast; and I have no doubt that stroke
would have slain me, had it not been for a plunge made by my
father's horse, that came between us and marred it. By this
time the Laidlaws had come up on my right,--a wheen as
hardy, determined louns as ever brak warld's bread,--and they
were laying about them like incarnate devils. The horse kept
the lancers from reaching me on the left, so that Ravens-
worth and I met fairly hand to hand. Sure am I that I never
gae sic a straik sinsyne, nor ane wi' sic good will. I dinna think
I clave his helmet, but I gae him sic a devil o' a knab on the
temple, that he was stoundit, and fell as dead as a stane at
my horse's feet. My father was at that time on his knee, and
I saw him trying to raise himself up by the stirrup-leather, for
he had never yet quitted the bridle of his horse. He saw me
bring down Neville, who fell almost at his very side; and he
looked to me, and cried, ""Weel done, little Charlie! weel
done, my brave man!''
   That was the last word I ever heard him say. My brave,
worthy, auld father! He was sae used to ca' me little Charlie
when I was young, that he coudna gie it ower when I grew
bigger than him; and he cried to me, ""Weel done, little
Charlie! Weel done, my brave man!'' I'll never forget that
moment. My honest, kind-hearted father! Ye maun forgie
me, sirs, for taking a hearty greet at this part o' my tale. Mony
a ane hae I ta'en at the same bit.--Ay--he often ca'ed me
little Charlie, and he cried, ""Weel done, my brave man!''
That was the hindmost word, and I hae good right to mind it.
   The battle thickened, and thickened round us, and we
were borne back; for there was sic a rush made by the English
to the rescue, that, an their captain had been living, they wad
hae tramped him to pieces. I was driven clean stupid, and
cared nae ae preen for my life, after I saw the ranks rush
over my father; but the skrae-shankit Laidlaws defendit me,
and did most excellent work. I never saw ony men that
thought less about fleeing or retreating than the Laidlaws.
Pell-mell, swap for swap, was a' that they countit on. I heard
Davie o' Craik saying to his brother, ""Take care o' that lang
swabble Charlie, and keep by his side. Deil hae him, gin he be
nae better than he looks like.'' The grim Potts were mair
cunning than rash; and the hard-headed Olivers could be led
but never driven. The Laidlaws were the men for me. Pell-mell,
yank for yank. ""Thresh on, Will!'' ""Ay, here's w'ye, Davie;
deil tak the hindmost!'' I hae stood mony a stoure wi' the
Laidlaws, and never wished for better lads--lang-shanks and
a' thegither.
   But I'm forgetting my tale; for aince I get into the mids
o' a battle, it's no easy getting me out again. I canna tell you
a' the feats that were done that day, especially by the warden.
When he saw the great brulzie in front, he came up with the
Scotts, and the Johnstons, and the Grahams o' Drife,--and
hearing that my father had fallen, and that the English
captain was also slain, he took the front himself, and scattered
the English commoners like crows.
   When we had thus fairly broke through the centre, we
turned to the right, and drove that division of the army before
us till they took shelter in Jed forest; but seeing the rest,
who formed the strongest wing, marshalling up behind us, we
drew off to the hills, and encamped that night at the Brae of
Rule.
   There was heavy mourning for the loss of my father, and
we buried him next day at Hassendean. The English were as
much exasperated. Dick Neville, the brother of Sir Robert,
took the command, and up Teviot they came, laying all waste
behind them. We durst not engage them again in close battle,
for they were by far too numerous; but we kept hovering
around them, and harrassing them whenever we could get a
chance. In spite of all we could do, they took the town of
Hawick, plundered it, and burnt it to ashes. The warden was
neither to haud nor to bind wi' anger then; and, as he durst
not leave the country, nor tine sight o' them for an hour
himself, he sent off Hab Elliot and me, wi' our hunder and
fifty horse, to plunder the castle and lands of Ravensworth,
by way of retaliation.
   ""Now, Charlie,'' said he to me at parting, ""Mind what the
Nevilles hae done baith to you and me, and neither leave
them cow nor ewe, man, woman, nor bairn, blanket nor
sheet, dish nor spoon.''
   Aweel, aff Habby and I set; he wi' his Elliots, and me wi'
my hard-headed Olivers, my grimy Potts, my skrae-shankit
Laidlaws, and auld Will Nicol,--that was my army, and a gay
queer ane it was: I hadna a man o' my ain name but mysel;
for the warden kept them a' about him: He wadna part wi'
the Scotts at no rate. It was clear moonlight, sae we set off
before sun-set and rade a' the night, keeping aye the height
between Tyne and Reid; and at daylight we fand oursels at
the place where the twa Tynes meet. We were terrified for
raising the country, and were obliged to ride out to a little
hollow place in a wild moor, and hide oursels a' the day,
where our horses got nothing but a rive o' heather, but they
had plenty o' water, puir things! Habby kept watch himsel,
and let us a' sleep; and there was ae camstary English chap
that wad be up to the tap o' the hill reason or nane, Habby
chappit aff his head--he wasna very sticking that way.
   The next morning after that, we gae the castle o' Ravens-
worth and the rich domains o' the Nevilles an unco surprise.
Habby gaed up by himsel to the gate, and asked a word o' the
porter. The man came snooving out half sleeping. Habby had
him dead, and the keys in his ain hand, in half a minute. It
was a shamefu' morning that; for we killed, and harried, and
burnt a' that came afore us; and Lady Ravensworth was burnt,
and her bairn was trowed to be burnt. That sat sair on my
conscience, for she came to me and beggit her life. I had nae
thought o' taking her life; but I was sae intent on the spulzie,
that I lost her again, and never saw mair o' her. It was rather
cruel o' Habby to lock every door when he set fire to the
castle. I saved ae little chap that morning, though I wasna
muckle the better. We were flinging blankets, and sheets, and
thousands o' things out at a large window, when I hears a
bairnie greeting most bitterlie, and aye crying out, ""Daddy,
daddy ! O daddy, daddy! '' ""Poor little English brat,'' says I to
mysel, ""there's nae daddy near you.'' Sae I could nae help
running into the room to see what kind o' creature it was; and
there lay a fine bonnie callant on the bare bedstrae, for they
had pu'ed the down bed, and blankets, and sheets, and a' off
him; and when he saw me, he held out baith his hands, and
cried, ""O daddy, daddy!'' I could nae think to leave him to
be burnt, sae I rowed him in some blankets and tossed him
out at the window; and when I lookit out after him to see if
he wasna killed, I heard him crying louder than ever, ""Daddy's
boy fa'en! Take ye up, take ye up! O daddy, daddy! take ye
up, take ye up!''
   When we came to pack up our goods he was still lying
sprawling amang the blankets, and insisting on his daddy
taking him up as fervently as before. I was wae for the poor
thing, and didna ken what to do, for I didna like to be
nursing a bairn afore my new warriors. But as luck wad hae
had it, up comes Will Laidlaw o' Craik. Will cared nae what
ony body thought.
   ""What, lad? says he to the boy: ""What's the matter, billy?
What are ye lying yammering there for? Eh?''
   ""Daddy's good boy fa'en,'' says the child; ""O take ye up!
take ye up!''
   ""Poor deevil!'' says Will, wi' his muckle een wauling till
they were like to come out; ""Poor deevil! Indeed and I will
take ye up, though I should get nae mair o' the spoil for my
share but yoursel.''
   Will fauldit a blankit, and rowed the callant carefully up
in't like a web. He didna come weel behand at rowing up a
bairn; but he did as he could, and had the sense to leave the
head out, which was a main concern. Just at the very moment,
when Will was at the thrangest, by comes ane o' the Olivers in
a great haste wi' his sword drawn, and it was a' bloody. Now,
thinks I to mysel', the puir bairn's gane; for I saw what kind o'
chap he was that Oliver. Will unluckily had the boy's head
out o' the blanket, and was busy speaking to him without
regarding ony thing else; and ere ever he was aware Oliver
heaved his bloody sword, and was just coming down wi' a
swap on the boy's neck, and he wad hae cuttit it through like
a kail castock. Will's e'e caught a glimpse o' the sword as it
was coming down, and with a dash of his elbow he drove it
aside. ""Eh? What are ye about, min?'' said Will, speaking
over his shoulder, and keeping his body between Oliver's
sword and the child.
   ""Ooh? What are ye about min?'' returned the other,
mimicking Will's voice and manner: ""Hae ye nought ado but
to work on a dirty English paddock like that? Cut the neck
o't.''
   ""Will I, min?'' says Laidlaw: ""I'll see you d--d first, and a'
the Olivers atween Jed head and Tyot stane--humph? A
bonnie trick to come and meddle wi' me and my bit bairn!''
   Oliver went away laughing at Laidlaw, leaving him to
manage his nursing concern as he could.
   I had witnessed Will's undaunted bravery, and yet I canna
say but I was as weel pleased wi' this bit kind turn as ought I
had seen him do. I think I see him yet wi' the child in his
arms foussomly rowed up in a blanket, like a web--the head
o' the boy out, a great neuk o' the blanket hinging down to
the ground, and Will glowring back at Oliver's face: ""Eh?
What are ye about, min? A bonnie story, to come and meddle
wi' me and my bit bairn!'' Ha! ha! ha! Honest Laidlaw! I
can never forget him and his bairn. ""Cut the neck o't'' says
the other. ""Will I, min? I'll see you d--d first,'' says Will. Ha!
ha! ha! ha!--But then his look! that was the best sport ava;
wi' his bendit face and muckle great wulcat een turned o'er
his shoulder. ""Cut the neck o't,'' says Oliver. They that had
seen Laidlaw then! ha! ha! ha! ""Will I, min?'' Ha! ha! ha!

   ""My son, is there not a time for every thing?'' said the
friar. ""If thou thinkest at all on our condition and thine own,
surely thou wilt refrain from such a torrent of vain jesting.
Remember that the words of thy mouth are for death or life;
for the possession of maiden beauty, and love, and pleasure;
or for the most dismal, and miserable, and wretched of all
fates--to be killed and eaten up of thy brethren, the com-
panions of thy journey.''
   "Gude faith, the thing's hardly to be thought of, let be
spoken about,'' said Charlie. ""But I beg your pardon, callants,
I maun get on wi' my tale; for if I stick it in the middle, ye ken
it is a' ower wi' me.''
   ""I wish you would get on with it then,'' said Tam; ""for
if ye maun aye stop to laugh at your ain jests, we'll be a' dead
o' hunger or ever the votes be ta'en. Nane but fools laugh at
their ain sports.''
   ""Whisht, whisht, Tam,'' returned Charlie,--""I hae a gay
wide wizen when I am amang friends, but there are some
things that I canna swallow for a' that--Where was I at? Aye
at the sacking o' Ravensworth.

   We drave the richest prey that morning that I ever yet saw
liftit, if we had gotten it a' hame. We had thirty horses laden
wi' stuff, and other thirty led anes, besides thirteen score o'
good cattle; and we gae the banks o' the Teme and the Black-
burn an unco singe afore we left them. I was rather against
the burning, but Habby wadna be stayed; ""Na, na; tit for tat,
Charlie. That will stand for Hawick and Abbotrule.''
   We drave on, and drave on, as fast as the cattle could gang,
and some o' the heavy soft anes we were obliged to leave
behind sair against our wills. We were terrified for raising the
country, for we had sic a far drive: but luckily the Nevilles
had ta'en amaist every man with them in their expedition into
Scotland; and the first time that we hovered was on Tersit-
moor in Northumberland, a little before the break o' day. At
that place there was the strangest thing happened to us that
ever happened to men,--and it was for that that I began my
tale.
   My heart had been unco sair a' the night wi' thinking about
the bonnie Lady Neville o' Ravensworth; and I had often
been sae grieved about her death, and her bairn's death, that
I hardly kend what I was doing. I thought I saw her kneeling
on her knee, and begging of me to spare her life, and the life
o' her child; and then how cruel it was in me to rin away
rummaging up the stair, and lose the opportunity of pre-
serving her. These thoughts had made my heart wholly
inclined to pity, and, as soon as we lighted, I sought out Will
Laidlaw o' Craik, to see if he had still been able, amang a' the
confusion, to preserve the life of the child. Will had had a
great deal o' trouble wi' him, chiefly from his associates, but
he had him still safe an' sound. He had stuffed him in a horse's
pack o' blankets and sheets, <1wi' his head out,>1 and had kept
beside him a' the gate; and now when I found him he had
laid the boy down on the heather to sleep, and had him weel
happit up, and Will himsel was lying streekit beside him. He
thought that I wad gibe him about the business, and tried to
waive the subject; but when I told him how much I was
pleased wi' what he had done, he grew rather crouser, and
could speak about naething else but the boy and his little
sayings to him by the way. ""Poor little dear soul!'' said Will;
""I think some body had flung him o'er the castle wa' in an
armful claes, and never kend; and wha kens but he may be
the heir o' Ravensworth himsel. He had been sae miraculously
saved that he will surely come to something. But do ye ken,
Charlie, my heart is already sae closely knitted to that bit
helpless bairn, that I wadna see ony ill come ower him for a'
the kye on the Crib-Law.''
   ""Laidlaw, you shall never rue your kindness o' heart and
attentions to that puir misfortunate bairn,'' quo' I: ""The
moment that I saw you take him up, and row him in a blanket,
<1wi' his head out,>1 as ye had been rowing up a wab, I resolved
to reward you wi' my hale share o' the spulzie.''
   ""Never speak about that, Charlie; if we get safe hame wi'
every thing we'll no differ about the spulzie.''
   ""Ha, but Will, your rowing up o' the bairn was a rare
scene! ony other body but you, ye ken, wad hae taken the
creature up in their arms and rowed a blanket about it: but
instead o' that you doubled a pair o' blankets their hale
length on the green, laid the bairn across the one end o' them,
and rowed it ower the body, and ower the body, and ower the
body, till ye came to the far end; and it was but ill rowed up
after a'--ha! ha! ha!''
   ""Hout, Charlie! deil a bit but ye're ower muckle ta'en up
about trifles. I wish ye wad think mair about the perilous
situation we are in. Watch a wee while, and let me get a
sleep.''
   Will then laid his arm over the boy and the hott o' claes,
and fell sound asleep. Our men were a' placed two and three
around the hale muir to guard the cattle, and all were resting
on their arms, to be ready to rush together on any alarm. I
was sitting and keeping a good look out a' round about, and
Will he was swuffling and sleeping. Every thing was quiet, ex-
cept now and then that the hum of an ox was to be heard
which missed his neighbour, or the eiry whistle o' the moss-
plover. It was a while before the day-sky, and I was just
beginning to turn drowsy, when I thought I saw something
white on the muir, about two hundred strides from me. ""St
Mary be my buckler!'' said I to mysel: ""What can you be? It
is surely a flight o' white mist risen out o' the earth, for I see
it moving. If it be a mist fawn, as I dare say it can be nae-
thing else, it has drawn itself up into a form the likest that of
a woman of ought ever I saw.'' As I was mumbling and
speaking this to mysel, I perceived that it still drew nearer,
and that it wasna ane o' the fairy fawns o' mist whiles to be
seen stealing about i' the night-time, but a lady a' clad in
white. It glided athort the moor, and athort the moor, as if it
had been looking for something it had lost; and at last I saw
it spring away from one point to another at a considerable
distance, as swift as a flash o' fire, as if something had
startled or offended it. I learned after that the point from
which it fled was the very spot where Habby Elliot lay, and
who at that time was lying in a sound and troubled sleep.
When it again stopped, its motions were very extraordinary,--
for though the morning was dark, there was such a pale and a
pure whiteness about it, that I saw it the better. it was like a
streamer o' light, or the reflection of a starn in the water, that
aye in the darkest nights appears brightest. When it paused
at the place I mentioned, it bent its body backward, its arms
were crossed on its breast, and I saw like its hair streaming
in the air behind it. Then it spread both its hands toward
heaven, as in the act of making fervent supplication. From
that point it came straight toward me, after giving a shiver
that made all my een dazzle.
     Will Laidlaw!'' cried I, but in a violent whisper below my
breath; ""Will Laidlaw o' Craik! for God's sake waken up and
see what this is.''
   I was sitting, but Will sprang to his feet, and seized his
sword. ""Where? where? where? Where is it, Charlie? Where is
it, callant?'' whispered he. I pointed to it, but durst not
speak. Will rubbed his een and rubbed his een, and at length
perceived it. ""I do believe, lad, that is some hizzy--and a weel
dressed ane she is,'' said he; still speaking in a whisper, and
sitting down close beside me. ""What on God's earth can she
be seeking on this waste at sic an untimely hour?'' I durst
hardly draw my breath, let be to answer him; and sae he
continued, ""I think it wad hae been as decent-like an she
had lain still in her bed rather as comed raiking out amang a
wheen wild men on sic a wild height. Oho! I'll wager my
neck it is some spy in disguise.''
   She was by this time within ten paces o' us, and we both
sat still in breathless suspense till she came close to us. I
thought I had seen the face before, but couldna tell where,
till she kneeled on one knee at my feet, crossed her hands,
and looked me in the face with the most piteous expression
of countenance. Then I saw it was the lady o' Ravensworth,
and in the very posture that I had seen her for the first and
last time. Yet there was no anger in her face; it seemed merely
a look of supplication; and at length she touched her lips
three times, as an intimation that she wished to speak and
could not. As for me, my mouth was sealed; and that I might
see nae mair than I had seen, I threw mysel agroof, wi' my
face to the ground, and held by the heather firmly wi' baith
my hands.
   Honest Will had nae suspicions o' ony thing beyond nature;
and at length he says, ""What are you wanting wi' us, Madam,
that ye're making a' thae murgeons?''
   ""You do not know me,'' returned she, ""but that young
warrior beside you does. He has been guilty of a neglect that
he will rue till the day of his death. But, for another deed of
mercy that you and he have done, your fates are averted, and
your heads shall be covered in the hour of danger, which is
fast approaching. You have saved a child from the devouring
flames;--if you dare to wrong a hair of that child's head, how
dreadful will be your doom! There is a terrible hour app-
roaching;--look at his breast that you may know him again,
for I cannot see the fate of the day. But if you would thrive
on earth and be admitted into heaven, guard and preserve
that dear child--That child is mine--''
   ""Say nae mair, honest woman,'' says Will, perfectly
undismayed, ""an the child be yours you're perfectly welcome
to him. It was to save his bit innocent life that I brought him
away, and no for ony greed o' other folks bairns. I kendna
wha was aught him, but sin he be yours I'll deliver him safe
into your hands. Take care an' no let him get cauld, for the
morning air is no gude for a bairn.''
   So saying, Will howked the boy out o' the mids o' a great
heap o' claes, rowed him up as weel as he could, and then
said, after two or three sobs, ""I like ill to part wi' him, but a
mother's aye a mother.'' Then he kissed him, and added,
""Fare-ye weel, my wee man! You and I will maybe never
meet again; but, whether or no, you will be nae the waur o'
a trooper's blessing. An ye be spared ye'll be a man when
auld Will Laidlaw's head is laid i' the grave. Hae, honest
woman, there's your son, and God bless you baith!''
   She bent her body over him in the most affectionate way,
and stretched her arms as if to embrace him, but she neither
touched him nor any part of Laidlaw's claes. The boy had
awakened, and when Will held him out to give him up to his
mother, he cried out, ""No-no-no-no. No go ty'e, no go t'ye.
Daddy's boy feared, daddy's boy feared.''
   ""Gude faith, sae ye may, my man!'' thinks I to mysel, ""an
ye kend about a' this as weel as I do!''
   I saw naething that was passing, for I was lying close on
my face, and hinging by the heather; but I heard a that was
said, and Will tauld me the rest afterwards. He said, she made
the sign of the cross above her child's breast, then over his
own head, as he stooped forward with him in his arms. Then
she glided aside, and made the cross over my head and
shoulders, and it was heaven's grace that I didna ken, else I
wad hae swarfed away. Last of all, she again bent herself over
her child, and stretched out her arms on each side of him:
then, leaning herself back on the air, she arose gently from
the ground, and sailed away through the dim shades of the
morning toward the verge of the heaven.
   I wondered what was asteer then, for I heard Will crying
on the Virgin Mary to preserve him, and rhaming o'er the
names o' a' the saints he had ever heard of; and at length he
gae a great gluther, like a man drowning, and fell down wi' sic
a dunt he gart a' the moss shake again. The bairn screamed
and grat; and I didna ken what to do, for I durstna look up
for fear o' seeing the ghost; till at length I heard that the rest
of the sentinels had caught the alarm, and were passing the
watchword frae ane to another, and then I ventured to set up
my head. But, gude and gracious, sic a grip as I did haud by
the heather!
   I took up the child, covered him with my cloak, and
soothed him; and the poor little harassed thing hid his face
in my bosom. Will lay quivering and struggling like ane in a
dream, or under the influence of the night-mare; and, after I
had rolled him three times over, he awoke in the most horrid
consternation. ""Charlie, where are ye? Speak to me, Charlie,
and tell me where I am.'' Then a whole string o' saints and
angels were a' invoked, one after another, ower and ower
again.  Mercy on us, Charlie! I hae had sic a dream as never
mortal man had; and a' sae plain and sae particular, I could
amaist swear it was real. What do ye think, Charlie? Didna
this bairn's mother come to me in my sleep? and she says to
me, "That bairn's mine.'--Na, that wasna what she said first.
"Ye dinna ken me,' says she.'' And then Will began and told
me all that I had heard pass between them before, and all that
I had seen, and some part that I had not seen; but a' that I
could do, I couldna persuade him that it wasna a dream. And
it was better it was sae; for if he had kend and believed that
he had conversed with a spirit, it wad hae put him daft. It
pat me clean out o' my judgment; and for that day, and
mony a day and night after, I kend nae mair what I was
doing than ane dreaming, and remembered nae mair what I
had been doing than if I had been asleep all the time. I can
therefore gie but a puir and a lame account o' what followed,
for it is maistly from hearsay, although I was tauld that I
bure a principal hand in the fray.
   We started at the scraigh o' day, and drove on. There were
always four or five light horsemen, well mounted, who rode
before our array to see if the coast was clear; and as we went
round the head of the Gowan Burn, about mid-day, ane o' these
came galloping back, and told us that the English were awaiting
us at the fords of Keilder, with an army of a thousand horse.
   ""Aha!'' quo' Habby Elliot! ""I thought we warna to get
hame this way. We hae just twa choices, callants, either to
fight or flee.''
   There was not a man in all our little army that could
think of scampering off for bare life, and leaving such a prey
behind him; so, with one assent, we rode forward in a body
to the brow of the hill that overlooks the fords of Keilder.
The English were stationed on a rising ground to the west of
the river, and that being passable only by one ford, which
was very rough, we could not attack them without the
certainty of being cut to pieces; so we kept our station on
the steep brae over against them, and sent some few of our
oldest and weakliest men to be moving the prey out toward
Keilder-head.
   We calculated the English to be about five hundred; but
neither durst they cross the ford to come to us. They sent a
few flights of arrows among our men, which we regarded
very little, and determined, if possible, to keep them at bay
there till our rich prey had crossed the border fell. But just
at the fall of the evening, to our great surprise, the English
rushed at once into the ford, with loud and reiterated shouts;
and scarcely had we begun to advance down the steep to meet
them, when we were attacked by another body of horsemen
behind.
   These men were led by a great priest whose name was
Bishop Boldone, but who was always called Bloody-Sark; and
at the very first encounter Hab Elliot rushed among the
English ranks and slew the Bishop with his own hand at the
first blow. But it cost Habby dear, for he was cut down in
endeavouring to retreat, and fell under a dozen of spears. In
short, our small band, being inclosed between two stronger
bodies, was literally hewed in pieces, but not before they had
slain a great number of our enemies. Will Laidlaw and I
fought side by side; and though enclosed in the very middle
of our foes, we cut our way through, and escaped without a
wound, and with short pursuit.
   Our prey was gone. We saw a great part of them scattered
on the hills, and heard them lowing, as they returned toward
their native pastures. Our drivers, having watched the fate of
the day, made their escape when they saw us surrounded,
abandoning the spoil. We two fled in silence toward the north-
east, and could not even get time to look for the child, in
whom we were both so much interested. We had lost our
well earned prey; we had lost our friends and companions in
arms, and we had lost our honour by suffering ourselves to
be surprised by the ambush behind; yet we both felt as if the
loss of the child sat heavier on our hearts than all. There was
something so mysterious in our connection with him, that
it could not fail making a deep impression on our minds. The
vision that we had seen, and the promise that had been made
to us,--that ""for what we had done our heads should be
shielded in the day of battle,''--soon recurred to us, and we
both agreed that our escape was miraculous, and perfectly
unaccountable to ourselves. There were not two in the battle
who exposed themselves more, and Laidlaw averred that he
sometimes saw twenty weapons raised against us at once, and
that still, as we approached, the bearers of them seemed to
lose the power of striking. It was no wonder that we were
impressed with deep awe, nor that we both wished it had
been in our power to have preserved the boy, over whose life
there seemed to be some good guardian spirit permitted or
appointed to watch. Our conversation was all about him.
There had been a nest made for him in a pack of clothes.
Laidlaw had led the horse himself all the way, and the child
had chatted to him, till the alarm was given that we were way-
laid, and he had then given the horse in charge to one of the
drivers, with particular injunctions to take care of the child;
but he could not even remember who that driver was. I
came up immediately after, and charged the lad to take care
of the child; and, in the hearing of several of my followers,
said that I would rather they lost the whole drove than that
ought should happen to him. But now we had lost him; we
had lost all but our horses and our swords.
   We jogged on all the night in melancholy mood, crossed
the Border, and then turned westward toward the Cowd-
Peel, which we reached about sun-rise. A little after the
break of day, as we were coming through a hollow of the
height, called the Spretty-Grain, we perceived something
before us that appeared to be moving, and of a prodigious
bulk, which, after some hesitation we made up to, and found
that the phenomenon consisted of eight horses, all well
loaden, and every one with its head yerked to the tail of the
one before him; and all these were driven by one yeoman on
horseback, who rode beside them with a long goad in his
hand.
   We soon overtook and examined him; and never was I
so much astonished in my life as when I found it was my own
henchman auld Will Nicol. He was very dour and shy of
communication at first.
   ""Will Nicol! Is it you?'' said I. ""How in the name of
wonder did you escape?''
   ""Humph! I think I may as weel speir that question at you:
Humph! '' says Will.
   ""I thought you had fallen with the rest in the battle,''
said I.
   ""Humph! but I'm here,'' says Will. ""And I think there's
mae here nor me: humph! and I rather think I hae brought
mair wi' me nor some fock: humph! I'm comed as fu' handit
as some fock, I think. Humph!''
   ""But, Will, were you in the engagement?''
   ""What need ye speir that? humph! Where was I else but in
the engagement?''
   ""And did you stay till it was over?''
   ""Humph! I stayed lang aneuch, I think! humph! It is
needless to wait ower lang on a seen bad job. Humph!''
   But the real truth of the story was, that instead of staying
till the battle was ower, Will didna stay till it began, nor
near that time. He was an auld-farrant chap Will, and had a
great deal o' foresight; and when he saw us begin to stop, and
the English standing peaceably before us, <1herding us,>1 as he
ca'ed it, he was sure there were more enemies coming up
behind.
   ""Will, if I were sure that ye deserted our cause, and came
off before the engagement began,'' said I, ""although I have
not a man left that I ken o', but Will o' Craik and yoursel,
may I be a coward and a traitor if I wadna cut you down i'
the place where you stand.''
   Will had nothing to say for himself but ""Humph! humph!''
and he scratched his head and grumbled. I was quite indignant
at the old fellow, and was getting into a greater rage than
ever I hae been in at a friend sinsyne, when all at once I
heard a weak tremulous voice say, ""Daddy's boy cold.''
   ""Aih-hay-hay!'' shouted Will Laidlaw, as loud as he could
yell: ""Hilloa, hilloa, hilloa!''--and he sprang first on the back
of his own horse with his feet, and from that he darted upon
one of those that carried the packs. When I rode up he was
sitting on the rumple o' the beast, hugging the child, that he had
deemed lost, in his bosom, kissing him, and exclaiming,--
""Aih, my man! my dear man, are ye safe? are ye safe? God
bless auld Will Nicol! God bless auld Will Nicol!''
   It was impossible for two down-cast and broken-hearted
warriors to be more uplifted at any incident than Will Laid-
law and I were, at discovering that the boy was safe; and
even auld Will Nicol began to recover some confidence.--
""I heard you giving a chap some charges about him, that I
kend weel caredna if his head were off,--od, he was ane o'
the hard-headed Olivers. What cares an Oliver for a man's
life, or a bairn's either?--Sae I thinks, sin my young master
has ta'en a liking for the bairn, I's e'en gang and look after
him. It is a good sign of a young warrior to like to save women
and bairns. Sae I gangs, and sae I thinks sin I is bringing
away this wee chap out o' danger, I may as weel bring some-
thing wi' me as naething; sae I brings aught o' the best
horses, and the best laden anes that I could wale, and bound
for the Border. A fashous job I hae had wi' them a' night.''
   It is needless to tell how frankly auld Will was forgiven.
   The Cowd-Peel being a rallying point on all Border raides,
we stayed there a whole day and a night, in hopes that some
part of our men wad come up; but out of all my fifty men
there were none appeared but three of the Potts. The hard-
headed Olivers had been slain to a man, and all the Laidlaws
save my brave companion. Out of ninety valiant Elliots there
were only twelve remaining, and some of these were of the
drivers.
   There were fifty-seven Scots, and nearly as many English,
with Bloody-Sark at their head, buried in one cairn; and, for
the sake of the Bishop, the English raised a heap of stones
above them as huge as an abbey church, which will be seen
on the height above the ford of Keilder for ever.
   Laidlaw slept that night in a good bed with the boy in his
arms, for we had no lack of the finest blankets and sheets;
and that night the white lady appeared to him again, claiming
her child, yet still declining to accept of him, and promising
Will protection on earth and a reward in heaven if he continued
to guard and protect that boy. Whether this was in a dream or
not, Laidlaw could not be positive; but he rather inclined to
think he was wide awake, for he remembered of speaking to
her audibly. Among other things, she asked him if he knew
it was the child that had slept by him on the waste the night
before the battle. Will said he was sure. She asked him how.
He answered, that ""unless the fairies had changed him it
could nae be ony other.''
   ""But the fairies or some one else may change him,'' said
she. ""You may be separated amid the confusion and uproar
now on the Border; and when you meet again, you may not
be able to prove the identity of my child. I bade you the
other night examine his bosom, but you neglected to do so.
If you had, you would there have found the spur of Ravens-
worth, testifying his lineage and descent to all the world.''
   Will came to me in a great ferment the next day, and told
me of all this. I had heard the same words the night before
the battle, but had quite forgot them among other matters,
and wist as little what they meant as Will did.
   ""I hae lookit a' his bits o' claes, and graepit them a',''
said he; ""but I can find nae spur. How could there be a spur
about a nakit bairn? It is may be in amang the blankets.''
   ""It is perhaps some private mark,'' said I. ""Let us examine
the child's body very narrowly.''
   On doing so we found a slight mark on his breast, that
seemed to have been made by applying a hot iron at some
time previous, and it was exactly in the form of a V with the
wrang end uppermost. So we both concluded that this was a
private mark of some family, that neither fairies nor men
kend o', and that it was perhaps a stamp that keepit them
a' away.

   ""It is the stamp of the heirs lineal of the house of Neville,''
said the friar; ""I have impressed it with my own hand, after
many masses and Ave Marias said. What became of that
child? or whither is he gone? I pray thee to inform us in the
words of truth not lengthened out.''

   Alas, I cannot tell! He was visited by the white lady of
Ravensworth every night, and when the gloaming came she
would be seen hovering on the skirts of the wood near to him.
I grew that I durstna sleep a night within ten miles o' him,
and Will Laidlaw turned clean bumbazed about the thing;
sae we were obIiged to send him to board wi' auld Lady
Lawder, her that was put out o' the convent for witchery
and the ill arts. She cared nought about spirits, and conversed
wi' the white lady as she had been her door neighbour; and
it was said there were strange mysterious sayings past between
them. She book-learned the boy, pen-learned the boy, and
learned him mony other things foreby that were thought to
be nae better than they should hae been. She chauntit sangs
til him, and tauld him tales, and, there was little doubt,
meant to breed him up to be a terrible enchanter; but afore
that could be effeckit, the white lady came and took him
away a' thegither.
   From that day he has never been seen or heard of in this
world, neither as boy nor man. And now, sirs, I find that my
story's worn to a head hair, and that I maun cut it short. So
it is done, and that's an end til't.
                         CHAPTER XX

              I have been a skipper in my time,
         And something more. Anon, I'll tell it you.
                                          OGILVIE.

""IT is nae worth the name of a story that,'' said Tam Craik;
""for, in the first place, it is a lang story; in the second place,
it is a confused story; and, in the third place, it ends ower
abruptly, and rather looks like half a dozen o' stories linkit
to ane anither's tails.''
   The poet was by this time on his feet, and, coming for-
ward to Charlie, he looked him sublimely in the face, stretched
out his hand, and spoke as follows: ""There is some being,
wheresoe'er he dwells, that watches o'er the fates of mortal
men: now do I know it. Yea, and that same being has spirits
of all casts at his command, that run, and fly, and trim, and
trim, and trim about this world. And it is even true that I have
seen of these, yet knew them not. Look here, brave hero, man
of heart and hand! and see if thou canst note thy mark once
seen? Thy spur; thy A without the crossing stroke; thy V with
the wrong end upmost,--is it here?''
   The poet bowed his breast, and exposed it to Charlie's eye,
which, at the first scrutinizing look, discerned the mark he
had formerly seen,--the mark of the spur of Ravensworth.
Charlie's visage altered into lengthened amazement. It could
scarcely have been more strongly marked when he was visited
by the white lady on Tersit moor, even when he was glad to
hide his face in the moss, and hold by the heather with both
his hands.
   ""And are you really the chap that I threw out at the win-
dow in the castle of Ravensworth,'' said he, ""and boarded wi'
auld lady Lawder? The creature that had a ghaist for its
guardian, and a witch for its nurse? But what need I spier?
My ain een convinces me. Gude faith but we are a queer set
that are prickit up on the top o' this tower thegither! I am
amaist terrified to enquire where you have been since the
white lady took you away; for ye must have been in the fairy
land, or the country o' the gruesome ghaists, or perhaps in a
waur place than either.''
   ""We are a queerer set than you are thinking of,'' said Tam;
""for here am I standing, Tam Craik, liege man and true to the
brave Scottish Warden, and I carena wha kens it now; but I
am neither less nor mair a man than just Marion's Jock o'
the Dod-Shiel, that sliced the fat bacon, ate the pet lamb, and
killed the auld miser, Goodman Niddery. Here's the same
whittle yet, and ready at the service of ony ane that requires
it for the same end. Od, we seem to ken mair about ane
anither than ony ane o' us kens about ourselves.''
   ""The day wears on apace,'' said the Master; ""and I foresee
that there is relief approaching from more quarters than one.''
(This made all the party spring to the windows to look.)--""It
is not yet visible to your eyes, but it will come time enough.
In the meanwhile, it would be as well to get through with the
stories, that we may know and fix on our victim, for, perhaps,
we may need a mart this night. And, it being now your turn,
liegeman Thomas, or John, by right of seniority, if you know
of nothing better, I should like much to hear the adventures
of such a promising youth, from the day that you made away
with the farmer to this present time.''
   ""Better, Master Michael Scott?'' said Tam. ""Better, does
your honour say? Nay, by my sooth I ken o' naething half
sae good. I hae been an ill-guided chap a' my life; but, as you
will hear, I hae guided others at times but in a middling way.''

                      TAM CRAIK'S TALE

   My friend, the laird, has given you my early history, per-
haps better than I could hae done myself, but that is to judge
of. He hath added and diminished,--but yet he told his story
wi' some life, and a' the better that he didna ken wha heard
him. In one thing he was wrong informed, for I was not seen
on Kirtle-common that night I fled from the slaughter of the
old inveterate wretch. I ran in a contrary direction, and slept
that night in a moss-hagg, at the head of a water called
Lanshaw Burn. Many a hard night I have had, but that was
one of the bitterest of them all. I did not rue having killed
the goodman, for I rejoiced at having let out his dirty miser-
able life and saved my own,--but then I was sure to be taken
up and hanged for a murderer; and I was chased away from
my mother and my country, and durst not face a human
being. I saw some goats and some sheep, and would gladly
have killed one to have eaten, for I saw hunger staring me in
the face; but they would not let me come near them. I
likewise saw a shepherd's or forester's house, but kept aloof;
and going up into a wild bushy glen, I cried myself asleep,
half naked as I was, and slept till about the break of day. When
I awakened, starving with hunger and cold, I had no shift but
to pull rashes and eat the white ends of them, which I con-
tinued to do all that day whenever I came to a rash bush. The
next night I came to a solitary house, where I ventured to go
in, and there I first gave myself the name of Tam Craik, telling
abundance of lies as to my origin. The master of the house
was a wealthy vassal, and had great numbers of fat oxen, with
cows and calves, besides a few sheep, and he kept me to help
him to herd these, promising me a grey coat if I attended to
his satisfaction. He was a most extraordinary man, and none
of the best,--for his words and actions were at variance:
Though he conversed with me, or any one, with the utmost
familiarity, I never found out that he had told me one word
of truth. The first friend that came to visit him after my
arrival, he overloaded so with kindness, professions of friend-
ship, and respect, that I believed he loved him as his own
soul; and, after he was gone, as my master and I went out to
the fields, I observed what a treasure it was to have so good
and so valued a friend as he had in that neighbour of his.
What was my astonishment to hear from the same tongue that
had lauded him to the skies, that he was a cheat, a liar, and a
scoundrel;--a greedy sordid wretch that robbed his own hinds,
and such wandering pedlars as came by that road, not daring
to venture on higher game; one who seduced men's wives and
daughters indiscriminately; and was, in short, a perfect demon,
and a pest to the whole neighbourhood. ""But, master, why
did you caress and commend him so much to his face?'' ""O!
that is all very well; that goes all for nothing. He is to be sure
a vile scoundrel!'' ""There are queer people in this world,''
thought I: ""There is nothing for it, I see, but, <1Tam, mind>1
<1yoursel.''>1
   The farmer continued very kind to me in his own deceitful
way; but the meat that we got was very bad. It consisted of
lean beef, and venison as black as soot, with plenty of milk;
but as for bread we had none of any description. So, from the
day that I entered to his service, I determined to kill a lamb,
or a sheep of any sort, the first time I could get one; but I
never could get the least chance, and might as well have tried
to get hold of a deer. I could not help thinking of the delicious
feasting that I had in my little shieling, dear as it had like to
have cost me; and every day my appetite for fat flesh became
more insufferable, till at last, by a grand expedient, I got
satisfaction of it. I had thirty fat stots in my herd, and I
observed that, in hurrying them through a bog, they sunk,
and stuck quite fast: so, having no other resource, I drove a
few of them one day, when I was very hungry, into a mire
in a wood, and rushing forward on them while they were
struggling, I sticked the fattest among them to the heart, so
that he floundered and bled to death in the slough. ""Well
done again, Marion's Jock!'' said I to myself. ""Here is feasting
for you now! Here is a feast that will last you a twelve month
at odd times, if you can but preserve it.'' I declare when I began
to cut up that huge animal, I almost trembled at my atrocity;
but these kind of feelings soon wear off. I was obliged to eat
some collops that day without any cooking, and never relished
ought better; I wish we saw such a meal again!  My thin
yellow beard was a little discoloured to be sure, but that was
nothing; I washed it, and went home as boldly among the rest
as if nothing wrong had been done.
   When I returned to my prey, I found to my great grief
that the foxes, dogs, ravens, and every savage beast and hind
on these mountains, were determined to share with me; they
had actually eaten more in that one night than would have
served me a week;--so the next day I employed myself in
cutting off all the good, fat, and savoury pieces, and secreted
them in well-springs, covering them up with stones; this I did
to preserve them from the beasts and from putrefaction; and
that day I am sure I had at least ten stones weight of excellent
beef,--the white and red were so beautifully mixed, it did one's
heart good to look at it.
   Pleasures are of short date, and the greatest pleasures have
the shortest! My master went over the lake next day to look
at my herd, and I knew the ox would be missed. Had it not
been for my beloved beef I would have made my escape
forthwith; but my heart was knit to it, and for my life I
could not leave it. I went home at night in great terror, but
to my joy I never saw my master half so kind. He told me I
had suffered one of my stots to be stolen, but what could the
like of me help it: he had a rough guess who had taken him,
and would perhaps make him repent it. I was perfectly over-
joyed at this construction, and resolved to revel in feasting
and gladness; but next day when I went back to my ox, the
hide was neatly taken off him, so also was the head, and both
were taken away. This was perfectly unaccountable to me;
and I saw the marks of men's feet in the mire, confirming the
fact that some body had been there stealing the head and the
skin of my ox, which were in my eyes not worth half the
labour of taking them off. I knew not what to make of this,
but it was evident that my prey had been discovered by some
one; and all that I could calculate farther on was, that the hide
had been stolen by some body who stood in need of it for
shoes, and the head by one who wanted bugle-horns. It was
all one to me, as I grew more and more a favourite with my
master, who now began to caress me more than his own sons.
No young lad in the land could be more thrifty about meat
than I was. Being anxious to have the remainder of my bullock
out of sight, I stole salt and a small barrel, and salted my stuff
in a hole below ground; then, when no very good meat was
going by day at my master's house, I often fasted the greater
part of it, and then taking a coal by night, I stole away into
the wood, and roasted, and boiled, and feasted the whole
night. The beef was delicious, and it was amazing what great
quantities I sometimes snapped up at once; for even after I
thought I could eat no more, there was a part of white
marrowy substance about the joints, and the sides of the
bones, that I could not give over--no man could give it over.
Marry, how delicious it was! I account that fine meat mixed
with white,that lies wedged in along the doublings and shelves
of the bones, as the most glorious species of man's food;--
round the broad shoulder-bone, for instance, the spoolbone,--
that through which we look for the storms. Think but of the
layers of the red and the white that lie bedded around that.
Peatstacknowe, let me feel your shoulder. I suppose a man
has no spool-bone,--ah no!--none! Blessed Virgin! when shall
I again shire the long crooked slices of the red meat, mixed
with white, from the flats and the hollows of a broad
spool-bone!

   ""He is hungering and yearning to pick my bones, the
cannibal dog,'' said Gibby. ""But it brings me in mind of a
good saying and a true: The swine that is most eager to feed
itself is the first slaughtered to feed others.''
   ""The horse-leach hath drawn thee aside from thy onward
relation, thou froward and voracious one,'' said the friar:
""Verily, it is better for thee that thou return to thy tale,
before thy strength be consumed within thee.''

   The loss of this sturdy ox of my master's gave rise to
strange matters; matters which quite confounded my judg-
ment, and which to this day I do not comprehend. My master
went away to the sheriff, and the lord of the manor, and
made a complaint that his neighbour before-mentioned had
stolen one of his cattle, the best that he had on his farm. This
was the man that he caressed so much, yet knew to be a
scoundrel. The complaint was attended to, and the injury
deeply resented. My master returned with a strong body of
men, and orders to seize Glendairg, and search all his premises;
and if evidence appeared against him, he was to be carried
before Lord William, called the Severe, and there imprisoned
in the dungeon till time should be given him to clear himself,
which, if he failed to do in a certain period, he was to be
swung. All my master's servants, men and women, were
ordered to proceed with the party; I went among the rest,
and certainly never witnessed so curious a scene. Glendairg
came out and met the party with all the consciousness of
innocence; and even when he was seized and bound, he still
appeared to doubt of the sincerity of the men, especially
when they told him it was at the instance of my master.
   ""If that is all, it is well,'' said he; ""I am sure my kind
friend and neighbour can mean me no ill by it.''
   My master took him aside, and said to him in the kindest
and most soothing manner, ""Do not be the least disheartened,
my dear friend: You know how far I would be from injuring
you. I would not do it for all the cows in my byre. I ken weel
wha has the ox. There is little doubt but he is in our neighbour
Bauldy's beef stand. I have long suspected him, and many is
the good beast I have lost. You little know how many good
beasts I have lost, and was still so loth to make it public. But
I can suffer it no longer. Let the skaith fall upon the skaither.
In the mean time I know you are quite innocent, but I
instituted this search as a blind to him: You must just submit
and never mind it.''
   ""O, very well, neighbour, very well,'' said Glendairg; ""I
knew you could not intend me any ill,--search all out and in,
and welcome.''
   They did so; they searched all out and in, and at last, when
about to give up, they found the individual ox's hide that I
slew in the bog, lying hid deep below some hay and corn in
the corner of a barn. In another place still more unfeasible,
they found the ox's head. They were both laid upon the
green, and my master and all his servants, myself included,
swore to their identity, as we could not do otherwise. Glen-
dairg looked like one bewildered, and said there was a plot laid
against his life, which he neither understood, suspected, nor
merited. The shrieve's officers laughed him to scorn, and pro-
posed to hang him up on the nearest tree; and I believed they
would have done it, had it not been for the kindness of my
master, who came forward with tears in his eyes, and addressed
them somewhat thus:
   ""Alas, my masters, this is a heavy and a sorrowful sight for
me! This is the bitterest day of my life! I have lost many and
many good cattle, and yet I would not,--I could not, let
myself suspect my intimate friend. Think how I am grieved to
see these proofs. Yet perhaps he may be innocent, and this
may be some vile plot laid against his life. I beg, therefore,
that he may be set at liberty, and the whole business hushed
up.
   ""You are a good man and a kind,'' said the men; ""but this
thing must not be. With our lord and master, justice must
have sway; but we will report your goodness and generosity
to him, and be sure it will not go unrewarded. We can assure
you, that this man has not only forfeited his life, but all his
farms, as well as his stock of cattle and sheep to yourself.''
   For all this my master refused to be comforted, but wept
and followed after the men, pleading for the life and the
freedom of his friend, but he pleaded in vain; the men bound
him on a horse, and carried him away with them to the dun-
geon of the castle of Coombe. I marvelled greatly at the great
kindness and generosity of my master, knowing, as he did,
that the man was a scoundrel; but I wondered far more what
could induce the man to steal the hide and the head from
off my ox.
   My master was a married man, and had four children; and
though he was apparently a kind husband, his wife seemed
quite unhappy and discontented, which I thought highly
unreasonable on her part. She knew more, however, than I
did; and there are some small matters that women never pa-
tiently put up with. He had a number of servant-maids for the
purpose of milking cows, making hay, and cheeses, and such
things; and among them there was a very pretty one named
Kelly, with whom he had fallen in love; and, after long toying
and courting, he had seduced her. I knew nothing about these
sorts of concerns; but I thought Kell, as we called her, the
most beautiful, sprightly, and innocent being that lived, and I
liked to look at her and hear her speak; and whenever she
came near me, I was like to fall a-trembling. She slept with a
little child in a large open loft, above the room where my
master and mistress slept; and it so happened that something
came by night and frightened her, and she refused to sleep
there any longer without some one beside her. I slept by
myself in one of the outhouses; and it was immediately
proposed by my master that my bed should be removed, and
put up in the loft beside Kell's. I was drunken with delight at
hearing this intelligence; yet I pretended to be very averse to
the plan, hanging my head, and turning about my back, when
any one spoke of it, nor would I answer a word to one of
them but ""Tutt,'' or ""tutts.''
   ""Tam Nosey, it seems ye're gaun to be bedded wi' bonny
Kell the night?''
   ""Tutt!''
   ""Ye're gaun up to sleep beside her, and do ye think ye'll
never brik lair?''
   ""Tutt!''
   ""She's a bonny burd yon, Tam, ye maun tak care.''
   ""Tutts!''
   Well, up I went the next night to sleep in a bed that stood
side by side, or rather end by end, with that of Kell. Oh I was
so terrified for her, or for having any communication with
her, that I would not speak a word even when she spoke to
me, but covered myself over the head with the bed-clothes,
and lay puffing till I was like to choak for want of breath. I
did not sleep well at all. I could not sleep, for she was always
yawning, and then saying, ""Heigh-ho!'' and then hushing the
child to sleep. The next night I ventured to lye with my head
out from beneath the clothes, unless when she spoke, which
alarmed me exceedingly; and so I did the next night again,
behaving myself with great magnanimity. At length I came
to that pass, that when she spake to me I did not creep down
beneath the bed-clothes, but only made a great bustle and
flinging as if I <1had been>1 hiding myself. This practice of de-
ception I continued for several nights, always making more
and more pouncing and scraping every time she addressed me.
She laughed at me, and seemed highly amused, which made
me still the worse. At length she said one night, ""Pray do not
creep through the house for fright; what makes you so afraid
of me? what ill do you think I will do to you? Heigh-ho,
Nosey! I wish the bogle may not come to-night. I am afraid
it will come, for I thought I heard it. Look that it do not rise
at the back of your bed, for that is a very dangerous place. If
it come, Nosey, I must either come in beside you, or you
must come in beside me.''--""Tutts!'' said I, and that was my
first word of courting; the first syllable that I spoke to Kell in
that luckless loft. I said, ""Tutts!''
   I suspected no evil intention on the part of my kind and
indulgent master, and far less on that of Kell; indeed, how
could I suspect either? One day he said to me in the fields,
""I do not know what to do about you and that wench Kell:
for both your sakes I believe I must separate you. She is fallen
in love with you, quite over head and ears, and has been com-
plaining to our dame of your unkindness to her. We have a
great regard for the girl, and cannot part with her,--but, out
of respect for you both, you must be separated. I will, how-
ever trust you together until next week; and if she do not
complain any more, you may remain where you are; but I
suppose I will be obliged to part with you then, though against
my will.''
   This was a terrible stound to my heart, and shewed my
master's masterly policy; for, notwithstanding of all my pre-
tended aversion to the company of women, and to that of
pretty Kell in particular, I would not have been parted from
her at that time for all the world, not even for all the beef
and bacon that was in it. I did not know well how to make
up matters with her so as to retain my place, but I thought I
would try. So that night I sat down on my own bed-side with
my clothes on, and scratched my head, and beat with my
bare heel against the loft; but she had lost all hope of gaining
me to the measures agreed on between her and her master;
and took no heed of me till I was obliged to speak first my-
self, when the following highly interesting dialogue passed
between us:
   ""I'm unco feared the bogle come the night, Kell.''
   ""So am I!''
   ""I wasna sure, but I thought I heard it yestreen!''
   ""I aince thought that I heard it a wee too!''
   ""How does it play when it is gaun to rise?''
   ""It begins a scart, scarting, like a rattan, making holes, I
fancy, to come out and take us away.''
   ""Aih! then it has just been it that I heard!''
   ""Oh! I'se warrant it was, and that I heard too!''
   ""Ay; O it's terrible! we're ill, ill set here! but I'll watch a'
night, and keep it aff you, Kelly.''
   With that I came and sat down on the side of her bed, to
keep the invidious scratching bogle away from her; but I soon
became drowsy, and was like to fall down. She begged me to
lay down my head on her pillow, but I would not hear of that.
Oh! no, no, I durst not lie down there; so I stretched me on
the loft at her bed-side, and fell asleep. Awakening before day,
the first thing I heard was the bogle scratching. Kell had
stretched her arm below the bed, on the side opposite to
me, and was scratching slowly and fearfully; then, pretending
to awake, she hid herself among the bed-clothes, muttered
prayers, and cried, ""Heigh-ho!'' I groaned; and, stretching my
hand round the corner, scratched on the other side even more
solemnly, and at more awful intervals than she had affected;
so that we lay in great tribulation till the dawning of the day.
   Afraid that I had still been too slightly obliging, and that I
run the risk of being separated from her, I studied the whole
day on the most becoming way of conducting myself, and
entered on several most amorous resolutions; but the higher
my resolves were, the more pusillanimous was my behaviour
when put to the test. I durst not even touch the side of her
bed that night; but the wicked unsonsy bogle still continued
its scratchings, sometimes on the one side of the bed, and
sometimes on the other, I was therefore obliged once more to
sit down on her bed side, to guard her from its inroads. In
sitting there I dropt asleep, and my head fell down on her
pillow--it was impossible I could help that; and then she
kindly laid the uppermost coverlet over me for fear of my
catching cold; but I was by far too sound asleep to perceive
it. She had to pull the covering from below me, in order that
she might lay it above me,--for all that I did not awake,
which was a great pity, but always as she made the greatest
stir, I sniffed the louder. A while after, I turned myself
about, and gave my head a ketch toward the back of the bed,
till my cheek came in contact with something soft; but it was
in my sleep,--and I was in one so profound, that I could not
possibly know what that thing was. What a fright I got next
morning on perceiving my situation! I sprung from the bed,
and ran away to the hills to my charge, without speaking a
word.
   I was, however, quite intoxicated with delight, and en-
deavoured to ingratiate myself with my master, by paying
every possible attention to his behests, lest I should lose so
delightful a place both for stolen meat and approaching
pleasures, which I perceived would still grow more and more
sublime, and was glad when he said to me one day that Kell
had given over complaining of my rudeness and incivility, and
he would trust me as her companion for a little while longer. In
the mean while, I was to take care and do nothing improper;
but he had such trust to put in me, he was not afraid of that.
   He was informed every day by this subservient beauty how
matters proceeded; so he let them go on by degrees till they
arrived at such a crisis as he desired, which was no more than
a boy lying on a girl's bed-side with his clothes on. He then
came up with a light one night at midnight to see how his
child was resting, pretending that he thought her ill, and
found me lying sound asleep, where perhaps I should not have
been, though I was as innocent and as free of his mistress as
the child that lay in her bosom. He was in great wrath, and
pulled me over the bed, giving me two or three gentle thwacks
with his open hand: he also rebuked her very sharply, but
said to us before going away: ""Keep your own secret. For
both your sakes I will conceal what I have seen, although you
have acted so <1very>1 improperly; but let me never catch you in
the like fault again. If the church get hold of you, you are
both undone.''
   I was dreadfully ashamed; and thenceforward felt my heart
quite reckless and desperate, disregardful of all danger or pro-
priety; and my master made me still worse by telling me that
I was to part from Kell in a few days, but that he did not like
to put me away just then, for fear of awakening suspicions
against us, for he had a great regard for us both! I laid all
these things to heart, and could not then have staid from
Kell's bed-side a night, if my head had been to answer for it
next day. One night we were informed that some strangers
had come to the house and were making merry, and before
we went to bed our master sent us something to eat and
drink. I thought there was something going on that night, for
I heard a great deal of muttering and saying of paternosters
till a late hour. However, I took up my old birth, and after a
while fell sound asleep. About midnight we were awaked by
four or five gruff looking fellows, with long beards, and staves
in their hands, who ordered us both to get up and dress
ourselves- Our master made a speech to them, lamenting our
guilt, and, with tears in his eyes, beseeching their clemency
toward us; but at the same time said, that he could not suffer
such immoralities under his roof: he had a family of his own
coming up, and bad example was pernicious. Then he related
what strict injunctions he had given us, yet we had continued
to persist in our wicked unlawful courses; that, therefore, he
had been obliged to give us up as lawless and irreclaimable
delinquents.
   All that he could now do was to intreat theirs and the holy
fathers' merciful clemency towards the youthful offenders;
for that, although we had both mocked and set at defiance
the statutes of holy church, he had hopes of our repentance
and amendment: And with that he delivered us over to the
officers of the church, whom he had trysted and suborned for
that purpose. They said he was a good man, but that the
offenders must needs suffer a heavy penance, in order that
they might be again rendered pure and without blame, in the
eyes of their fostering and protecting parent.
   When Kell saw that she was betrayed and abandoned, her
grief and despair knew no bounds, and she would doubtless
have accused her master to his face had she been able to arti-
culate aught distinctly,--but she fell into fits, and they hurried
her away. We were confined to cells in different religious hou-
ses, but both in the same ward. It is well known what tyranny
prevails here, and what vengeance is wreaked against all those
guilty of breaches of morality, especially if those possessed of
riches or power desire it; but it is nothing to that which
predominates over the west country, where I then was. They
fed me on bread and water, though I asked for fat flesh, and
longed for it every hour of the day: and always when the
people assembled to worship, I was put in the juggs; that is, I
was chained to the kirk wall with an iron collar about my
neck, and every boy brought a rotten egg, or some filth, and
threw at me, till I was all over bedaubed and plastered like a
rough stone wall. The men gave me a kick, and the old maids
spit upon me as they passed, but the young women looked
on me with pity; and the old wives, before my time of
penance was expired, espoused my cause, and defended me
from the rabble. I heard them saying to one another, ""Poor
fellow, somebody may be the better o' him yet. What wad
the mother that bore him say if she saw him standing in that
guise? Surely she wad think the punishment far outwent the
crime.
   One day, just when I was about to be set at liberty, I saw
my kind master speaking to some of the holy brethren, and
was glad when I saw him, thinking I saw the face of the only
man on earth that cared for me. But he came with a different
intent from what I supposed, namely, with the benevolent
one of getting me hanged. He said he had missed some money
out of his house ever since I came away; and though he
should be sorry indeed to find any part of it on me, for his
own satisfaction he requested to search my clothes in their
presence, to which I submitted without reluctance, being
conscious of my innocence. But he that hides knows best
where to seek. It was not long before my kind master took
out from between several of the button-holes in the breast
of my grey coat, two gold moudiwarts, three silver merks, and
several placks and bodles. In vain did I protest that I knew
nothing about them; the brethren pronounced me the most
incorrigible wretch and vagabond that traversed the face of
the earth; and, as their jurisdiction extended not to such
crimes as this, they sent me off with the proofs of my
guilt to Lord William for judgment and execution. I shall
never forget the figure I cut that day when brought before
Lord William, and accused. I was in a wretched state as to
clothes, having stood so long in the juggs. I had been hun-
gered almost to death, and maltreated in every way, and
altogether looked extremely ill. He asked them to go over
the charges against me, when one of the brethren came for-
ward and spoke to him as follows:
   ""My noble Lord and benefactor, a worthy gentleman within
our bounds of censure and controul, lodged a complaint with
us against two of his servants that had been tempted by the
devil to fall into lawless and sinful communication; and not-
withstanding of all his admonitions and threatenings of church
discipline, they not only continued in their mal-practices, but
every day grew worse and more abandoned. He therefore
prayed us to take cognizance of the offence, which, for the
sake of their souls, and the general benefit of our community,
we undertook. Accordingly, my lord, as he suggested, we went
disguised as strangers, and at midnight we found this same
young gentleman lying snugly in bed beside our friend's
principal maid-servant, the very maiden to whom he had
entrusted the care of his children, one of whom lay in the
bed with them. Think of the atrocity of this my lord, and look
at the man!''
   The judge did so, and could not help smiling.
   ""What do you say to that master?'' said he, ""Is it truth?''
   ""Yes,'' said I.
   This answer made him burst out a laughing. ""Upon my
word,'' said he, ""you are a most extraordinary youth! Was
the girl pretty, say you, monk?''
   ""The woman was indeed very beautiful, my lord.''
   ""She has been blessed, however, with a singular taste. I
think the stripling may almost be excused for this crime.''
   The monk then related the circumstances of the stolen
money having been found on me, at which the judge shook
his head, and said, ""Alak, it is all over with him. He is unfit
to live. What do you say to this, sirrah? Is it true?''
   ""Yes,'' said I.
   ""True that you stole your master's money?'' said he.
   ""No, I never stole it, but it is true that it was there.''
   ""What? you found it I suppose? Tell me the truth, did not
you find it?''
   ""No, I never found it, nor ever saw it till it was taken out
of my coat yesterday. I never had either gold or silver in my
hand in my life.''
   ""Your woman took it and sewed it in for you, then, I
suppose?''
   ""I do not know who took it, or how it came there, but
there it certainly was.''
   ""Did you ever part with your coat to your sweetheart?
Did you ever lend her it to mend, or leave it at home with
her?''
   ""I have often on warm weather left my coat at home for
three or four days rinning.''
   ""But you declare you did not take the money?''
   ""I never saw the money, nor heard of it till yesterday.''
   When I said this, he looked stedfastly on me as if he had
discovered something he saw not before. There was no man
on earth could discover truth like Lord William. ""Who is this
youth's accuser?'' said he. They told him it was sleeky Tam.
   ""I have observed of late,'' said he, ""that that gentleman
never searches that he does not find, and never accuses that
he does not bring proof. I have caused several to be executed
on the evidences raised by him, and have always remarked that
he is the only profiter by their being put down. We must
move with more caution. Let that wench be brought before
me, and stop the execution of Jock's Sandy, whom I ordered
to be hanged to-morrow.''
   My late benevolent master was watching the course of
these events with punctuality, and was terribly chagrined when
he heard that his neighbour Jock's Sandy was reprieved. He
was almost beside himself; but, having great influence with
the holy brethren, he persuaded them to retain Kell under
their jurisdiction, and not give her up to Lord William. In
the course of his scrutiny he had likewise discovered some of
his gold pieces on her, and had doomed her to destruction
with the rest; yet, at the same time, he told the holy fathers
to be lenient, and altogether to overlook that fault, which
had originated from the first, and that was one to which
youth was liable. He conjured them not to give her up to
William the Severe, who would infallibly doom her to an
ignominous death. If she had deserved that, he said, it was
much better that she should die privately, in which case he
would pay seventy merks annually to the church for the
securing of her soul. He was frightened for the meeting of so
many criminals before Lord William, wicked as we were; and
so high was the influence of the convent, of which this was a
branch, that the brethren refused to give up the offender to
Lord William's officers.
   After my first examination was over, I was thrust into a
dungeon beside Jock's Sandy, who had been cast to die for
stealing the ox which I myself slew; and, when we began to
converse freely together, what a tissue of deceit was unraveled!
He asked me if I knew any thing about that ox for which he
was to lose his life! I said I knew very well about the ox, for I
had killed him myself: ""And what a great fool you were,''
said I, ""to incur so much danger for the sake of a nout's hide
and a pair of horns, for these you certainly did steal.''
   The man was perfectly amazed when I told him all the
truth, and promised to procure me as much fat flesh as I
could eat every day, if I would tell the truth of the story to
Lord William. I catched at the offer, for I had suffered so
much in my stomach of late, that I would have done far more
than he required of me for such an advantage. Indeed I would
have done any thing, or said any thing in the world, that I
might once more enjoy my beloved mess. He proved as good
as his word, for before night the keeper brought me a whole
apron full of bits and scraps of the fattest meat that I ever
saw,--beef, mutton, and pork. There were some square pieces
of perfect, pure white fat, that I sliced down like cheese! They
were from the flanks of fat beeves, the briskets of wedders,
and the ribs of fatted hogs; and I could not but admire the
want of good taste among the gentles who had left these
savoury bits to their slaves and prisoners- I was so delighted
that I could not sleep by night, but always awakened from
my straw and fell a-munching. I wish we saw such a feast
again; but, indeed I saw nothing, for our house was in utter
darkness; but it was a good meat house, and I could have
been content to have lived in it all my life.
   In a few days I was once more carried above ground for
examination, where I told the whole truth boldly, but was
not believed. No one would give credit to the tale, that I
had slain one of my master's fattest oxen for the sake of good
cheer; such a thing, they said, would never come into a
stripling's head, and I had been suborned to my evidence by
my fellow prisoner. Lord William asked if there was any proof
remaining that I could produce in support of my assertion? I
said I had a part of the beef remaining, well salted up in a
barrel below ground, and covered with a moss divot; and that
I had likewise some hid for fresh meat in some cold well
springs, and I would shew them these if they liked. I was sent
with a guard, and shewed them the remains of my ox; and
when this was reported to Lord William, he called me a rogue
and a glutton, and caused them to tie a rope about my neck
and lead me through the streets of the town naked, lashing me
with a whip all the way. He then bade me make off with my-
self, for if I was found within twenty miles of that place where
I stood, he would cause me to be hewed in pieces.
   My late master was taken up, and examined face to face
with those he had accused; but how he contrived to elude
justice I never knew: ten years after, one informed me that
the dame Kelly had accused him before Lord William of
having seduced her, and that in the most disgraceful way, and
then of forcing me into the situation in which I was caught,
for a screen to his own guilt and shame. For all that, it seems
poor Kell was returned to the convent, and never more heard
of, and sleeky Tam possesses both his own and his neighbour's
farm at this day.
   I had begun to think that ill deeds throve best; but I now
conceived that I had paid very dearly indeed for my late
pleasures of feasting and love, being almost flayed alive. I
cried bitterly as I fled, and cursed Lord William and his
raggamuffians that had scourged me, and vowed to myself, if
I lived to be a man, that I would be revenged on them. I like-
wise cursed my deceitful master, but I did not curse poor
Kell; indeed I found that it was for her I wept most bitterly,
thinking myself the cause of all her shame and suffering.
   I fled next into a country called Galloway, a place which
some of you may have heard of by chance; but I found it the
worst meat country, and the worst country altogether, that I
had ever seen. I lived there for a number of years, leading a
sort of vagabond life, but quite an honourable one. I learned
naturally among them to be a great thief, and an acute liar;
but I never stole any thing but fat flesh, nor do I account any
thing else worthy of running the risk for--from that no danger
ever could, or ever shall debar me. I care not much what sort
it be, provided it be juicy, and a layer of white next the
bone, I wonder whether men's flesh is likest to beef, or
mutton, or venison?

   ""I wish ye wadna always turn your green een on me that
gate when you speak about your fat flesh,'' said Gibbie. ""I
assure you, mine is neither like beef, nor mutton, nor venison;
and, what is more, you shall never taste it. I appeal to you all,
masters and friends, if this man has not fairly fallen through
his tale.''
   ""I suppose it must be very like veal, then,'' continued Tam;
""and if so, I have seen a joint of cold veal very excellent meat,
more especially that adjoining the white gristly part; with a
little salt, a man can eat a great deal of that without being
any thing the worse.''
   ""My masters, I do protest against these carnivorous looks
of the story-teller,'' rejoined Gibbie; ""they make ane feel so
queerly. It is as if he were tearing my flesh quick from the
banes with his teeth. And I call you to note that he has
sticked a story, which, from the beginning, is no story.''
   ""Stay till it be done, an you please,'' said Tam; ""the best
of my tale is yet to come; and any man may be allowed a
breathing space and a little refreshment.''

   At Castle-Fern I fell in with an old man called the Gorb, an
itinerant fencer, who travelled the country teaching the art
of the sword. To him I attached myself, somewhat against
his will; for I saw that, though he was not everywhere a wel-
come guest, he was nevertheless a privileged one, and always
admitted. He was six feet high, with a beard that hung to his
middle, and his frame was entirely composed of bones and
sinews. The feats that he described to me of warrior prowess
first raised in me a desire to learn his noble art; and as soon
as I began to manifest a partiality for his profession, he began
to attach himself to me, but in a manner so ungracious, that
if I had not been a being quite desperate, I never could have

                             268
borne it. We moved on from place to place; the young men
of the country assembled in parties, as we passed, to attend
his lessons; and at night we had free-quarters wherever we
went; that is, the Gorb was a free man,--but many pointed
inuendos were thrown out against my introduction as an
additional burden. These people had better have let the matter
pass over, for he did not fail to pay them back with interest
in bitter and sarcastic retorts. On some of these occasions
he gave me a terrible character of the country and its in-
habitants.
   ""You are come, poor man, to sojourn in the worst country
under the cope of heaven,'' said he, ""into a place where there
is no faith, no honour, no money, and very little meat.''
   ""What do they live on in general?'' said I.
   ""On some wretched roots, pulse, and black corn,'' said he;
some lean unhealthy fish, and still more lean and sapless
cattle.''
   ""I like the country a great deal the worse,'' said I. ""Is the
flesh here so very lean?''
   ""Why ask?'' said he; ""have you not witnessed it?''
   ""No, I am very sorry I have not,'' said I. ""I supposed it had
been lent in this country. As for their faith or honour I care
not a pin. Their money is of little avail to me; but I hate to
stay in a country where there is no meat: and how they can
transact business without money is beyond my comprehen-
sion.''
   ""They have none, however,'' said he, ""nor was there ever
any in this country. They transact all their business on a
thing called credit, which commonly attaches itself to a man
for a number of years, sometimes for a long, and sometimes
a very short term. This enables him to cheat his neighbours
for a time, and all his exertions tend only to this, namely,
how many he can take in, and to what amount; and when he
has gone as far as this ideal quality of his can carry him, he
takes to the bent, and leaves them all in the lurch. This is
the exact state of this blessed country called Galloway, and
will be its state as long as it continues to exist. The only
rational hope concerning it is, that, as it is a sort of butt-end
of the creation, it will perhaps sink in the ocean, and man-
kind will be rid of it.''
   He then took a hearty fiendish laugh at the conceit of the
country being sunk, and went on.--
   ""After all, I cannot help being amazed at the rascally
crew. Do you not see how suspicion and distrust are stamped
on every countenance? Every man makes a bargain with
apparent reluctance, and with a dread that his neighbour is
going to cheat him; and he is never mistaken. Such is the
country, and such are the people to whom you have now
come, and such must they ever continue to remain. It is in
their nature to be so, and they cannot be otherwise. Here
am I, their master and benefactor, who have spent my life
in teaching them the noblest of all sciences, without which
they could not have defended their country. I have taught
every chief in the country, and every one of their vassals,
and how am I requited? Ill-clothed, worse fed, and not a
bodle in my purse. All my recompense is the freedom of
living a life of fatigue and wretchedness.''
   ""I will not stay another night in the country of such a
parcel of rogues,'' said I.
   ""You are wrong,'' answered he:  ""It is the best country
you can be in. You have nothing to lose, and you may gain
much. Experience is a man's greatest riches; and of that you
will gain abundance. You will here learn hourly how to
oppose cunning to cunning; and I will teach you the noble
art of opposing masterly skill to brutal force, until you may
haply be established as my assistant and successor.''
   ""I would rather dispense with the honour,'' said I: ""You
are too lean for me to think of being your successor. Were
you a fat full-fed man, I would not say what I might do to
attain the distinction; but I have made up my mind to one
thing, which is, always to have my meat, honestly if I can,
but at all events to have it.''
   ""You are so far right in your principle,'' said he: ""For
when we consider of it, a man can have very little more than
his meat in this world, for all the struggling and strife there
is in it. But since you set so high a value on good living, I can,
if I please, assist you to it; for, poor and wretched as I appear,
and as I am, I have a right to call for and command the best
in every house. I could likewise take their clothes, for money
they have none; but it would be like tearing the hearts out
of the dogs,--so I content myself with the meanest fare, rather
than humble myself to ask ought of them.''
   ""You are an extraordinary man,'' said I: ""But when I look
at you, I cannot conceive this privilege of yours to exist in
aught but in theory.''
   ""You shall see.'' said he. ""What sort of meat would you
prefer?''
   ""Fat flesh at all times and all seasons,'' said I: ""There is
nothing like that. Whether it be the flesh of bullock, hog, or
wedder, the fattest is always the best.''
   ""What a kite! What a raven! What a dog!'' exclaimed he:
""Well, you shall have it, if it were but to kill you of a surfeit.''
   We were lying in a barn when this discourse occurred, and
I could not but wonder what the old fellow would do. It was
customary for us to take our breakfast at the place where we
lodged, and if I might judge from our supper, the place where
we then were gave no prospect of very rich fare-
   The breakfast was produced; a quantity of black brochen
and lentiles. The master of defence wist not how to break
the ice by introducing a refusal of the proffered meal, but he
considered himself as pledged to me, and his haughty spirit
would not succumb. His looks were particularly embarrassed
and amusing, and I saw that he would gladly have been free
of his engagement, as he began a long palaver of general re-
marks. I kept up my good hopes, and gave him always an ex-
pecting look now and then, to make him hold to his resolu-
tion. The people of the house paid little attention to his
harangue, till at length he concluded with these words:
   ""Such being the case, and such the state of the country, I
am obliged now to claim all my rights, privileges, and dues
from every vassal of my lord of Galloway, as well as from
every subject of our liege lord the king, whose commission I
bear. Good man Latchie, I accept no more of black croudy
and lentiles for breakfast: I claim, order, and command the
best that is in this house. In place of that hog's meat, let us
have a rasher on the coals, if you so please.''
   ""The muckle fiend be atween your teeth, then, to choak
you wi' the first bite!'' said the goodwife.
   ""Farmer Latchie, I contend not with women,'' said the
man of the sword: ""Are you aware of my rights, or do you
know and dispute them?''
   ""I consider yours as merely a nominal right,'' said he,
""which no man is bound to fulfil, because no man does it.
All my lord's vassals treat you with common fare. Why should
I do more?''
   With that a raw-boned young man stepped forward, with a
black beard and a ruffian look. He was the farmer's eldest
son, and his name was John.
   ""What is all this din about,'' said he: ""Let me speak, will
ye, Master Gorb? Either take that which is set before you, or
go away without it. I say that.''
   ""You say that? Do you, sir?'' said my master.
   ""Yes; sure I do,'' said he: ""I says that, and I'll say it again
too, to be sure I will.''
   ""Then there is my gage, sir. Do you know to what you
have subjected yourself?'' said my master, pulling out his
sword, and laying it on the board: ""You have given the king's
ordained swordsman the denial; you must fight him, or find
one on the instant to do it for you. If he kills you, he is
entitled to take off your head and send it to the king; and
if you kill him, you lose your head, and all the goods and
chattels of your house are to be confiscate. Rescue or no res-
cue? Draw, craven! or yield me up the keys of your pantry,
your chest, and your sunken cellar, you dog.''
   ""I does nae see the sense o' that, Master Gorb,'' said John,
with a countenance right sorely altered: ""that a man maunna
say his awn's his awn, or what's his father's is his father's, but
that he maun tak up sword and swordsman. I does nae fear
thee. It's no to say that I fears thee; but I winna be bullied
intil aught; and I just tells thee, that I'll neither fight thee nor
suffer thee to get a scrap o' aught better than is set afore
thee; and gang and seek thy mends. Now I says that.''
   ""Thou art a craven and a nincompoop,'' said my master,
with the highest indignation; ""and I lift my pledge, and will
report thee to thy betters.''
   ""Do if thou mayest,'' cried old Latchie, running to an
armour chest, and taking from thence a sword and buckler.
""Disgrace of my house! To give the challenge, and then to
flinch. Have with thee, Bellwether! I will give you to know,
that old masons are the best barrowmen.''
   ""I ground my pledge again, and I take thee,'' said my
master. But now the old woman came running between them,
crying out, ""Deil be i' your teeth! deil be i' your teeth! Tak
a' that's i' the house an' haud you wi't: there are the keys;
there are the keys! deil be i' your teeth, take a'--and let us
alane o' your din.'' The Gorb waved the keys aside with his
arm in high indignation; but the wife clung to her point. ""I
take you a' witnesses,'' cried she, ""I take you a' witnesses, I
have offered him the keys, and he has refused them. Here,
young Gorb; young hing-by-the-gut, take ye them, take ye
them. Deil be i' your teeth, take a' that's i' the house.''
   I took the keys lest they should be forgot in the hurry; the
two old fellows took to the field with sword and buckler, while
both the old dame and her son John strove to interfere; but
the old yeoman silenced them both with a word, and I thought
he would have struck his son down with the sword, so much
was he enraged at his behaviour.
   I had seen much sword play by this tirne in the way of
amusement, or lesson-taking; but I had never seen two men
meet in deadly foil, and I trembled for the event; for I judged,
that if the old Gorb was killed, it would fare hardly with me,
being conscious that I was the moving cause of the combat.
My master's demeanour was altogether inimitable. He went
through every thing as if it had been a matter of mere
ceremony, first slipping gracefully to one side, crossing his
hands on his breast, bowing profoundly, and then shaking
hands with Latchie: then swimming gracefully to the other
side, and repeating the same manoeuvre. Last of all, he wheeled
about, cut some wild flourishes with his sword, and took his
distance. The yeoman bit his lip, and appeared to be viewing
all these things with disdain; but he set himself firm on his
legs with his left foot foremost, and setting up his broad
bonnet before, waited the onset. The Gorb on the contrary
advanced with his right foot foremost; and, instead of availing
himself of the buckler as the former did, he came forward
bearing it up behind him as high as his head. He seemed to
wear it merely because the other did, but he was too proud to
make any use of it. Nothing ever did, or ever will exceed the
singularity of that combat: the figures of the men, and their
manner of fighting, being so different. Latchie was short and
squat, the Gorb somewhat like the skeleton of a giant. The art
of fighting which the former pursued was to shield himself
behind his broad buckler, peep over it, and now and then
make dreadful blows around it with the full swing of his
body, as if he meant to cut my master through the middle, or
shear off both his thighs. On such occasions the Gorb, beside
parrying the stroke, made such tremendous springs off at a
side, that he rather appeared like a spirit than any thing of
bones, sinews, and blood, for as to flesh there was none on
him; and at every one of these leaps he uttered a loud ""Hoh!''
as if he had been mortally wounded, or in great danger of
having been so; yet all the while his face was so sublimely
grave and serious as if every movement were to have been his
last. He never attempted to hit the yeoman, and had apparently
no other aim in fighting, than merely to show his dexterity in
fencing, retreating, and advancing. I deemed that all was over
with him, and began to be mortally afraid of myself; and any
man would have acknowledged what good reason I had, if he
had witnessed with what looks the wife and son regarded me.
Every one of them thought the Gorb had the worst of it, and
that the farmer was sure of the day. Indeed by this time there
was little doubt of it. The old wife thrice clapped her hands,
and screamed out, ""Weel proven, goodman!  that gars him
scamper! Weel proven, Daniel Maclatchie! Lie to the breast-
leather.'' At these words I began to look over my shouder,
and meditate a most strenuous flight. But now the most novel
scene of all occurred: my master still continued to change his
ground, and to skip and fly about, until at length the yeoman,
encouraged by his wife's words, came hard upon him, and,
heaving up his shield a little, he came with a deadly stroke
round below it, ettling to cut off both my master's legs.
""Hoh!'' cried the Gorb, as loud as he could vociferate; and as
the little squat yeoman stooped to the stroke, he made such
a spring into the air that he leaped fairly over his head; and as
he passed like a meteor over above him, he gave him such
a slap with the broad side of his sword on the hind cants of
the head, that it made the farmer run forward and fall with
his nose on the ground. He was again on his feet, however, in
an instant, and faced about, while his eyes streamed with
water from the sharpness of the stroke. This feat astonished
the Latchies; but the wife cried out, ""A barley! a barley! foul
play! --he's fighting on springs.''
   ""Emblem true of thy accursed country!'' cried the Gorb,
and kicking off his sandals at her head, he took his ground on
his bare soles. The combatants set to it again; but the yeoman
was now on his guard, and fought shy, standing on the defen-
sive. My master soon grew tired of this way of fighting; and,
after two or three flying feints at an attack, in a moment he
wrenched Latchie's sword from his grasp, and threw it into the
air like a sling-stone. The lookers on gazed in amazement,--
and the astonished yeoman traced the course of his erratic
weapon, which, after forming an arch like a rainbow, lighted at
the distance of forty yards. John, the farmer's son, was the
first who ventured a remark on the phenomenon, which he did
with his accustomed shrewdness, and in the Cumberland bro-
gue, which he had learned by living some years in that district.
   ""Feyther, I thinks thou hast thrown away thee swoard.''
   ""Ay,'' said his father, biting his lip, and looking after it.
   By this time the Gorb had his sword at Latchie's throat,
crying, ""Rescue, or no rescue, I say? Yield, traitor, or die.''
   Latchie paid no regard to him. He only bit his lip, looked
after his sword, and stood his ground firm without moving,
showing a most unyielding and dauntless spirit.
   The Gorb repeated his threat, but the yeoman paid no
further attention to it than before.
   ""What an unlucky accident!'' said he. ""Had I not thrown
away my sword, I would have humbled you.''
   ""Do you regret the loss of your sword so much?'' said the
Gorb. ""Will you promise, on the honour of a good yeoman,
not to throw it away in like manner again?''
   ""Promise?'' said the other: ""I will swear on it, and by it,
never to part with it in like manner again.''
   ""Young man,'' said my master to me, ""run and bring me
this brave yeoman's sword.''
   I brought it, and he took it by the point, and delivered it
back to the owner with all manner of courtesy. Latchie took it
in his hand, and let the point of it slant towards the ground
in a token of submission.
   ""Nay, nay, I deliver it,'' cried my master. ""I would not see
such a man show fear or pusillanimity for any thing. Ex-
change me three times three, and no more; and God stand by
the right. I counsel thee, moreover, to assume thy best defence,
as I propose to do thee all manner of injury.''
   ""So be it. I defy you still,'' said Latchie, and took his
ground a second time. His wife and son spoke a great deal by
way of interference, but were totally disregarded- The combat
began again with more fury than ever; but at the second or
third time of crossing their weapons, Daniel Maclatchie's
sword betook itself again into the firmament, and after tracing
nearly the same course as formerly, alighted on the same spot.
   ""You are the devil and none else,'' said Latchie, ""and I
yield to my conqueror. I am at your disposal.''
   ""And I will use my advantage, as in duty and in honour
bound,'' said the Gorb: ""Rise up my friend and brother; you
are a man of true genuine spirit. I honour you, and I estimate
your country more this morning, for your sake, than I have
hitherto done. I claim your friendship as a brother in anns.
You shall not have cause to repent this spirited encounter.''
   The farmer was greatly flattered by this speech- I gave up
the keys; and there was no end of kindness and endearment
between the two old fellows. We had our rasher on the coals;
and I think I have scarcely risen from a better diet than I did
that day. I got the greater part to myself, for the rest were all
so busy talking and drinking cold ale, that they hardly
thought of the bacon. It was nicely toasted, and the fat stood
on it like small drops of honey. But I must not dwell on the
recollection else I shall faint.
   At our meal the yeoman offered my master a new war
cloak, with belts, bands, and haversack, if he would tell him
by what means he disarmed him with such ease, and in so
extraordinary a manner; but the other absolutely refused.
   ""It is allowable in chivalry,'' said he, ""to learn and practice
any mode of manual defence, and to keep that mode a secret
till you prove it on your opponent. That is my secret, and by
that mode I would forfeit my life, nay my character itself, to
disarm any man that ever pointed a two-edged sword at my
breast.''

   ""I should have liked very much to have known that secret of
his,'' said Charlie Scott.
   I found it out privately with the most perfect certainty,
continued Tam; but durst never let him know that I under-
stood aught of the matter. It was owing to his sword's handle,
which was made for the purpose. It had an inner shell of
steel polished like glass; then an outer one of basket-work,
formed with rounded bars in such a manner that, by turning
his hand in a slight degree to humour the position of the
opponent's sword, and dashing his hilt against the point of it,
that entered between those of the cross-bars, and, running
up the polished steel within, bent and fixed itself; then by a
sudden wrench against his opponent's thumb, of which he was
a perfect master, he not only disarmed him to a certainty, but
generally left his arm powerless. After I had discovered it, I
went by myself to try the experiment, fixed my own sword,
and taking my master's in my hand, I pushed the basket of
that slightly against the point of the other, and behold it
fixed in it so close, that with all my might, and all my art, I
could not extricate it without breaking it in two, and, in that
case, I saw I would leave the point sticking where it was,
which I durst not do for my life. At length it came into my
head to do as my master did. This had the effect at once; the
vibration in the blade caused by the swing and jerk, made it
loosen, and it flew away through the air like a fiery dragon.

   ""Master Michael Scott,'' said Gibbie, ""and my friends, I
again appeal to you all if this man has not fallen through his
tale. It is turning out no tale at all, but merely an offputting
of time, till we shall all perish of hunger.''
   ""The story of the hapless maiden Kell, and of our hero's
first essays in love, I did admire and prize,'' said the poet.
   ""Od help your crazed head,'' said Charlie: ""I wadna gie
that duel atween the twa auld chaps for a creelfu' o' love
stories.''
   ""Lo, the tale is good,'' said the friar; ""but it goeth here and
there, without bound or limit; and wherefore should not a
man relate all that befalleth unto him. I suppose it behoveth
our friend to go on, without turning aside to the right hand
or to the left.''
   ""My tale is indeed long, but to me it is momentous. I
should stop here pleasantly; but life is sweet,--and, to give me
a fair chance for mine, I beg to be permitted to relate one
adventure more.'' This, after some demur, was granted, and
Tam went on:

   After spending several years among the hills of Galloway,
and being approved of by the Gorb (as he was called by every
body, though his name was Macdougald) for a good swordsman
I tired of the country, being persuaded that the ground did
not fatten the cattle properly; and from the moment I began
to suspect that, I had no more satisfaction in the place, but
utterly despised it. I perceived that their beef was never
above an inch thick in the ribs, and what was worse, it was
not properly mixed with white layers of fat; even the doubles
in the broad bone of the shoulder were nothing but pure red
lire. This will never do, thought I. How I despise the people
that can put up with such a country as this!
   ""Master,'' says I, one day, ""I am quite tired of this country,
and am going to leave it.''
   ""Wherefore are you going to leave it, Thomas? Have not I
been better and kinder to you than to myself?''
   ""For all that, master, I am resolved not to sojourn another
week in it.''
   ""I warned you that they were a deceitful people before,''
said he; ""but we must take them as they are. We cannot
make mankind as we would wish to have them.''
   ""It is not for the men, nor for the women either, that I
dislike the country so much,'' said I.
   ""What is it then for?'' said he.
   ""It is,'' said I, ""because I suspect that their grass is not of
a good quality.''
   I will never forget the look that the Gorb turned on me. He
was walking somewhat before me, but when he heard my
reason for disliking Galloway he wheeled about, and, taking
one of his most striking upright positions, with his lean shoul-
ders set up like two pins, he stared at me with his mouth
wide open; and then put the following questions to me at
long intervals.
   ""Grass! eh! How do you mean?''
   ""Look at it,'' said I; ""What substance is in that wiry stuff,
and on these hills of black heather!''
   The Gorb's jaws fell down with dismay. He visibly thought
that I was deranged, but he answered me mildly to humour
my malady.
   ""True, the grass is not good; it never was, and never will
be so. But I have not observed that you ever eat much of it;
nor can I see how a man's happiness any way depends upon
the quality of the grass of a country.''
   ""If that be all the sense that you have,'' thought I, ""I will
disdain for my part to exchange another word with you on
the subject.  Since you think that a man's happiness can
depend on <1any thing else>1 but good grass, you shall be followed
no longer by me.''
   ""Well,'' continued he, after waiting a while for an answer,
""I see you are sulky about this whim, but I will humour it. I
have nearly finished my terms among the mountains, and we
shall descend upon the shores, where there is as good grass as
any in Scotland, and I promise you full liberty to go into
every field that you chuse, and take your bellyful of it. I
have likewise many things to teach you, which will amuse
you in the highest degree, and which belong to the sublime
art of legerdemain.''
   ""What is that?'' said I.
   ""It is the art,'' said he ""that enables us to see things and
people as they really are. There is scarcely any thing on this
earth really what it appears to be; and this art I have yet to
teach you.''
   From that day forward he began and performed feats that
entirely bewildered my senses, but which furnished, wherever
we were, a great fund of amusement; all the young people
believed him to be in compact with the devil. I have forgot
them all but one, which I will remember as long as I live.
   We came to a wealthy yeoman's house on the river Urr,
where we were to remain several days; and while he exercised
the farmer's sons in fencing, I kept the young peasants in
exercise--and then in the hall in the evenings he went on with
his cantrips. There was a delicious shoulder of bacon hanging
up on the farmer's brace, among many meaner hams and pieces
of wretched dried flesh. I believe I had fixed my eyes on it,
and perhaps my heart a little too. Whether the Gorb noticed
this and dreaded the consequences or not, I cannot tell, but
he began a speech about things not being what they appeared
to be, and offered to give us a striking instance.''
   "Make down the choicest and best ham among all these
above the fire,'' said he. I did so, taking down the shoulder
of bacon with great alacrity.
   "Make down the worst,'' said he. I did so; it was one of
venison dried like a crooked stick.
   ""Which do you account the best?'' said he. I told him.
""Well, you are mistaken,'' said he; ""and I'll convince you of
it. Roll them both neatly up in straw, or as you will.''
   I did so.
   ""Now, do you know the one from the other?''
   ""Yes.''
   ""Very well: heave them up again that you may not
be mistaken in the weight. Now, cross your hands, and
heave them with different hands. Quite sensible they are
the same?''
   ""Quite sensible.''
   ""Very well. Take them aside by yourself and look at
them. You will now see them as they really are, not as they
appeared to your eyes.''
   I hastened and opened out the shoulder of bacon. It was
nothing but three dried bones, hanging together by tendons,
and stuffed up into the shape of an overgrown shoulder of
bacon with brawn, which was covered round with a piece of
sow's hide. I shed some tears at this blighting discovery; for
though the bacon was not mine, I felt in my heart that I did
not know how matters were to come about. I hung the two
hams up as they were, and was cured of my itching eye; but
no man can tell how things will come round to the advantage
of an acute and clever fellow.
   While we were at that house, the country was raised to follow
the Lord of Galloway into Cumberland. It was a great rising,
the utmost quota being demanded of every yeoman in the
country, in terms of his villanage. Our landlord got a charge
to find five, whereas he had none to send save three, unless he
and his eldest son both went, which would have been grievous-
ly against him at that time; so he applied to my master and
me to go on his behoof, offering large conditions, which were
soon accepted. The principal, if not the sole thing that in-
duced me to go out on that raide, was the stipulation that I
was to have my choice of all the meat in the house, to the
amount of what I could conveniently carry on my back in a
march. After a great deal of choosing, I fixed on a small beef-
ham, because it was solid, and no bones in it, and blest my
master's ingenuity that had let me into the secret of the
deceitful shoulder of bacon. The next that came after me was
a blade of endless frolic and humour, named Harestanes. He
instantly snapped at the bacon-ham, and popped it into his
goatskin wallet, nodding his head, and twisting his mouth at
me, as much as if he had said, ""What a taste you have! I am
glad you had not the sense to take this.'' I could easily have
prevented him, by revealing the secret; but he had always been
trying to make a fool of me, therefore I could scarcely contain
my mirth at his mistake; and resolved to enjoy his disappoint-
ment in full. He was a sprightly handsome youth, and had such
a forward and impertinent manner that he contrived to make
friends in every family that we passed by, particularly with
the women, so that he lacked nothing that he desired; and
tho I watched him night and day for fear of losing the sport,
he never took out his bacon to break it up till the fourth day
after our departure. My beef-ham was by that time more than
half done. It was a most wretched piece of meat, being as hard
as wood, and bitter as gall; but I was still comforted with this,
that it was so much better than my comrade's.
   It was about eight o'clock on a morning, on the English
side of the Border, that Harestanes first loosed out his wallet
to make a breakfast of his bacon; and he being very hungry, I
sat down beside him to enjoy the sport, taking out my black
beef likewise. All that I could do I could not retain my gravity
while he was loosening the cords, and taking the straw from
his ham, which made him look wistfully at me, and ask what
the fool meant? But when I saw him look seriously and
greedily at it, and then take out his knife to cut off a great
slice, I lost all power, and fell on the ground in a convulsion
of laughter, while my voice went away to a perfect wheezle.
He could not comprehend me in the least degree, and actually
began to cut! yes, he actually began to cut through the bristly
skin, while I lay spurring the ground, and screaming with
anticipation of the grand joke that was to ensue. Before I
could recover my sight from amid the tears of extravagant
mirth, the scene was changed; and I shall never forget the
position in which the puppy sat, when my eyes cleared. No,
it is impossible I ever can forget it! Conceive a wicked imper-
tinent frolicksome whelp of a tailor, for he was nothing
better, who had been with Sir Robert Graham's maids all the
night, and was so hungry that you might almost have cast a
knot on him, sit down to take a hearty luncheon of his
bacon ham; and then conceive his looks when he found he
had nothing but rubbish and dry bones. If you conceive
these, you will conceive the very scene that I saw, at least
that I conceived and saw in my mind's eye. How could I but
laugh? No! It was impossible I could abstain from laughter;--
but yet, for all that, things turned out quite the reverse. He
had actually sliced off a rasher of bacon, the fattest, the
whitest, and the most beautiful rasher of bacon ever I had
seen in my life! There were three distinct layers of lire and
fat, curving alternately through it like quarter moons. No
man ever beheld such a sight! He sliced out another piece,
which was still more perfectly beautiful than the preceeding
one. My eyes darkened. I had seen enough to shew me the
enormity of my folly, and my irreparable loss! He roasted his
rashers on the fire. The fat fried out of them, and flamed
among the embers; and when he laid them on his bread, they
soaked it all with pure liquid fat. And there was I sitting
beside him, gnawing at my piece of infernal beef, the sinewy
hip of some hateful Galloway stott that had died of the
blackleg, and, having been unfit for ought else, had been
dried till the hateful substance was out of it. Yet I had my
choice of both, and took this. I shall never wish any friend
of mine to suffer such pangs as I did that morning; for all that
I had suffered in my dangers and disappointments was nothing
to them. I would fain have slain the Gorb privately; but not
daring to do that, I resolved never to see his face again, after
the vile trick he had played. All my hopes and all my enjoy-
ments of the foray being now ended, I resolved on taking my
departure, and that by the time my enemy had the first slice
of bacon eaten.
   We had orders to halt all that day, for the Johnstons and
the Jardines were a day's march before us. Their advanced co-
lumns had fallen back; and as the troops were sleeping or
straggling about, I prepared for my departure. My comrade
having been with the knight's women all the night, a set of
creatures madder than himself, he was quite worn out; and as
soon as he got his inside lined with the salutary beverage, he
fell fast asleep. An inward light now began to dawn on my
heart, brighter than the sun at noon day, and lighting my
steps forward to future felicity. My breath cut short with
ecstatic delight, and my knees trembled as I formed the reso-
lution of changing hams with my hopeful comrade. His wallet
was lying open--not so the tailor's eyes: I might have exchanged
coats, and shoes too, for him. The great work was done in an
instant. I whipped out his shoulder of bacon, and put my
piece of black timber in its place. "Make you that, honest
man,'' said I to myself: ""Time about is fair play. I have given
you something that will exercise your jaws for a while.''
   When I found that I had this most delicious of all morsels
on my back, I was so light that I scarcely felt my feet touch
the ground; and there being no time now to lose, I made
straight away into England; for I durst not turn towards
Scotland, the sentinels being so very thick on that quarter.
Our advanced guard was composed of the Gordons from the
Ken,--a set of desperate raggamuffins whom I durst not have
gone among had it not been fair forenoon. I had my wallet
on my back and my sword by my side; and when I saw any
of them eying me, I went up to them and asked how far the
Johnstons were before us?
   ""What the devil was I wanting with the Johnstons?''
   ""O, I was afraid there might be a battle fought before I
saw it, which I would not should happen for any thing in the
world.''
   ""Hear to the coulter-nibbit piper,'' said one.
   ""He is as like supping a pint o' fat brose as killing an
Englishman,'' said another.
   ""I wadna trust him wi' ought beyond a litter o' English
pigs,'' said a third.
   ""Let him gang forrit, and fiend that he get his chafts
clawn the first sword that's drawn! I wadna that his name were
Gordon for a hunder civis.''
    Accordingly I got liberty to pass; but as soon as I got out
of sight, I turned to the left, and escaped to the moors of
Bewcastle. I had now found out the invaluable art of flint and
frizzle, and could kindle a fire whenever I pleased. So I sought
out a lonely wild dell, and lighting a fire of birns and strong
heather, roasted two slashing slices of my shoulder of bacon.
I also took a good shave of bread from my friend the tailor's
hearth-bannock; but after all I could not think of adulterating
the savoury delicious fare by any unnatural intermixture,--so
I ate up the dry bread by itself, and then smacked up the
bacon afterwards. I cannot describe my sensations of delight,
not only in my meal, but in contemplating the beauty of the
object. I sat long feasting my eyes on the beauty of the slices
before I committed them to the coals. They were curved so
beautifully in semi-circles, the fat and the lire time about,
that, unless for such an object, the term <1beauty>1 would have
no meaning. They lay alternately, as if it were this way, and
this way, and this way.

    ""I protest against your drawing of your pictures on my
shoulder,'' cried Gibbie; ""and also against the party being
any longer mocked with such fulsome trash in place of a
story. Do you not perceive, Sir Master, and do you not all
perceive, that he is havering and speaking without end or
aim? He is sensible that he has failed in his story; and that
a dismal fate awaits him, and all that he is now intent on
is driving of time.''
    ""I confess that I am sick of the bacon and other fat
things,'' said Charlie.
    ""My soul disdains the abject theme,'' said the poet: ""It's
tantalizing sight is like the marshfire's vacant gleam to the
bewildered wight. "Tis throwing meat to hungry souls, with
fainting sore opprest; or drink unto the parched lips, whereof
they may not taste.''
    ""Let us show some spirit, wretched as we are,'' said
Gibbie, ""and protest with one assent against being farther
sickened, as well as mocked by such loathsome stuff.''
    ""This is unfair, and using undue influence,'' cried Tam.
""None of you were thus interrupted, but got time to finish
your stories as you liked. Mine is not done; the best part of it
is yet to come, and I say it is unfair. Great Master, you sit as
judge; I appeal to you. My life has been varied. Let them
chuse what sort of a theme they want, and I will fit them,
only suffer me to relate one other exploit.''

                             282
    The Master, on whom hunger seemed to make no im-
pression, thought the request was reasonable; but in making
choice, every one of them, young and old, pitched on a differ-
ent subject, so that Tam could not get proceeded; neither can
this chapter, as an extraordinary incident befel, which natu-
rally brings it to an end.
                         CHAPTERXXI

           And he said unto Satan, whence comest thou?
           And he answered, and said, thou knowest it is true,
           That I come from wandering on the earth,
           And from going to and fro on it,
           Like a masterless dog, with my bow-wow-wow.
                                      <1Zach. Boyd's Bible.>1

AT the very time they were disputing about the right of
Tam to proceed with his tale, their ears were astounded by
a loud hollo! at the gate. Every man's heart leaped for joy,
and every one was instantly on his feet; but Charlie was
first on the platform, and answered the hollo!  with full
stentorian voice. The same voice called again.
   ""A Bellandine.''
   ""Where bye?'' answered Charlie.
   ""By the moon,'' said the voice.
   ""And the seven stars! '' rejoined Yardbire, clapping his hands,
and shouting for joy, ""The Warden for ever! My chief for
ever! He is the man that cares for his own! Ah! he is the
noble master.''
   Charlie well knew the voice that hailed him. It was that of
his friend and companion in arms, Dan Chisholm, whom the
Warden had indeed despatched all the way from Northumber-
land to Aikwood, to see what was become of his embassy,
with six-and-twenty chosen troopers.  Charlie Scott's arm
was a bulwark of strength, and his breast a tower of fidelity,
the value of which Sir Ringan knew how to estimate, while
his acts of kindness and regard made a deep impression on
Charlie's honest unsophisticated heart; and before he would
say a word about the situation of either himseIf or his associa-
tes, he caused Dan to inform him of the Warden's fortune
and success in their absence. Being satisfied concerning these,
he called out,
   ""What ither uncos, Dan? What mair news are come out?''
   ""O, God shield you!'' cried Dan, ""Do nae ye ken that the
world's amaist turned up-side-down sin ye left us? The trees
hae turned their wrang ends upmost--the waters hae drowned
the towns, and the hills hae been rent asunder and riddled up
like heaps o' chaff. "Tis thought that there has been a seige
o' hell, and that the citadel has been won, for the deils are
a' broken loose and rinning jabbering through the land. They
hae been seen, and they hae been heard; and nae man kens
what's to be the issue, or what's to fa' out neist.''
   ""Blaw lown, Dan; ye dinna ken wha may hear ye,'' said
Charlie. ""We hae had hand in these matters oursels: But for
the sake of a' that's dear to you and to us bring gavelocks
and ern mells, pinching-bars, and howies, and break open
every gate, bar, and door in this castle; for here are we a'
imprisoned on the top of it, and famishing to dead wi' hunger
and starvation.''
   ""That I will do wi' a' expedition,'' answered Dan. ""It is a
shame for the master of the castle to imprison his kinsmen's
friends, who came to him in peace and good fellowship. What
strength of opposition holds he?''
   ""Nane, good Chisholm, but these gates. The great Master is
himself a prisoner, and suffering with us.''
   ""That dings a'!'' said Dan; ""I canna understand it! But its
a' ane for that; ye maunna stay there. I shall gar his gates flee
a' into as mony flinders as there are hairs on his grey beard.''
   ""If you demolish one bar of these gates, young man,''
cried the Master fiercely, ""you do it at your peril.''
   ""So I do, and so I will,'' answered Dan: ""Either bring
down my friends and companions to me this instant, or--I
have orders,--and here goes.''
   ""Man of mystery and of misery, what dost thou mean?''
said the friar. ""Lo I have saved thy life; and if thou refusest
to let us escape from the face of death, I will even throw thee
from the top of thy tower, and thy blood shall be sprinkled
on the wall.''
   The Master gave him a fierce look, but made no reply. As
he strode the battlement, however, he muttered to himself
with great violence, ""Does the Christian dog dare to beard
me thus? To what am I fallen? I am fallen low, but not to
this. And not to know what I am! nor what power remains
with me? Would that I were in the midst of my arcana and of
the spirits once more! Young warrior, use your liberty. Break
up and demolish. Set us all free, and see who is the profiter.''
   Dan scarcely needed such permission. He and twenty
others had each a stone of at least half his own weight heaved
on his shoulder, which, at a given signal, they all dashed on
the gate at once. The bars bent, but nothing gave way; and
it was not before the twentieth broadside, in the same
irresistible style, that the cross bars became like a bow and
the lock slipped. As for the large bolt, one of the men had
climbed over the counterguard on the shoulders of the rest
and drawn it. When they came to the gate of the castle,
entrance seemed hopeless. It was stedfast and immoveable,
the door being double. Dan bellowed for the porter, and
asked those on the top what was become of him; but none
made answer to his rash question. After waiting a while
for it, with his face placed horizontally, he muttered to him-
self, ""Aha!  mum there!  He has gane nae gude gate, I'll
warrant him. It's a queer place this, an' as queer folk about
it.''
   ""What's queer about it, lad?'' said a strange voice through
the key hole, whence it would not speak again.
   They had nothing for it but to begin with such awkward
mattocks as they had, namely, a score of huge stones; but,
to their excessive joy, the doors gave both way at the first
assault. This was owing to a most fortunate blunder of the
friar, who, during the time he was in possession of the keys,
had gone forth to provide for his mule, which he did in an
ample manner, but, on returning, had either been unable or
unwilling to turn the tremendous locks again into their
sockets; and open flew the gates with a jarring sound. Of
course, it was not long till our yeomen were thundering at
the iron door on the small stair. It was a double door of
strong iron bars, and the lock was inclosed between them, so
that all attempts to open it appeared fruitless, one man only
being able to get to it at once, (that is, one on each side,) and
these had no footing. After tugging at it in vain for a space,
Dan swore that, to open it, it would be necessary either to
begin at the top of the tower and demolish downward, or at
the bottom and demolish upward. This appeared a job so
tedious to starving people, that it was agreed to feed them
with meat and drink through the bars. Every man readily
proffered the contents of his wallet; but the getting of these
through the bars required ingenuity. They poured the meal
through in tubes made of leather, and water and strong
drink in the same way; but the flesh could only be got through
in long small pieces; and Tam Craik having taken his station
at the back of the door, in order to hand up the provisions
to his companions, none of the butcher-meat (as it is now
called) found its way farther. By the time they had got a
supply of meal, water, and distilled liquor, some of Dan's
party, by the direction of the Master, went to bring mattocks
for raising the stair, and forcing a passage through below the
door; others had gone to the brook for more water; so that
none remained in the narrow stair save Dan Chisholm and
another person.
   By this time there was one who had been silently watching
the progress of affairs at Aikwood castle, where he had long
been accustomed to reckon on every thing as his own; but
now there were some things passed under his potent eye, the
true motives for which he could not comprehend, and these

actions were still growing more and more equivocal; so he
resolved on trusting his sworn vassals no more to their own
guardianship, but to take an active management in guiding
the events that so deeply concerned his honour and power.
Who this august personage was the reader will scarcely guess.
He may perhaps discover it in the detail.
   It was wearing toward evening, the sun being either set or
hid behind dark clouds; for, short as these tales may appear
as here related by Isaac the curate, they had taken a day in
telling by the wights themselves. The individuals who had
been shut up were all light of heart and rejoicing. Delany had
fainted in ecstacy, or partly, perhaps, by exhaustion, but was
soon recovered by a cup of cold water. They had got plenty
of stores laid in for a night and more; so that they were
freed from the dread of perishing by starvation, or saving
their lives by a resource of all others the most repulsive to
humanity. Such was the state of affairs, when the most appall-
ing noise was heard somewhere about the castle,--a noise
which neither could be described nor the cause of it dis-
covered. The people below ran out to the court or the tops
of the outer walls, and those above to the battlements--but
they saw nothing save the troopers' horses scowering off in all
directions, every one of them snorting aloud, and cocking
their heads and their tails. Tam Craik and Dan Chisholm
were still standing with their noses close to the iron door,
and conversing through it. Another trooper stood close at
Dan's back; and, when the rushing sound arose, the one said
to the other,
   ""What the devil is that?''
   ""Take case wha ye speak about here, friend, or wi' reverence
be it spoken,'' said Tam. Then turning round, he called out
""Yardbire, what hurly-burly is that?''
   ""I cannot tell,'' answered Charlie; ""only I think the devil
be entered into the horses.''
   Tam, who did not hear distinctly from the top, answered
Dan thus: ""He says its only the devil entered into the horses.''
Dan was just about to reply, when the trooper tapped him on
the shoulder, and said in a whisper, ""Hush, squire! Good Lord!
look what is behind us.'' He looked about, and saw a terrific
being standing on the landing-place, beckoning him to come
down. From an irresistible impulse, he lost no time in obeying;
and, pushing the trooper down before him, he descended
the steps. When he came to the bottom he got a full view of
the figure, that stood upright between two pilasters, with
its face straight to the aperture that lighted the place. One
may judge of our yeomen's feelings when they gazed on a
being which they always described as follows:
   It appeared about double the human size, both in might
and proportion, its whole body being of the colour of
bronze, as well as the crown upon its head. The skin appeared
shrivelled, as if seared with fire, but over that there was a
polish that glittered and shone. Its eyes had no pupil nor
circle of white; they appeared like burning lamps deep in
their sockets; and when it gazed, they rolled round with a
circular motion. There was a hairy mantle hung down and
covered its feet that they could not be seen; but Dan saw its
right hand, as it pointed to them to retire, every finger of
which terminated in a long crooked talon that seemed of the
colour of molten gold. It once opened its mouth, not as if to
speak but to breathe, and as it stooped forward at the time,
both of them saw it within. It had neither teeth, tongue, nor
throat, its whole inside being hollow, and of the colour of
burning glass.
   It pointed with its right hand across its bosom for them to
be gone, and, as they passed by with hurried strides, it drew
a stroke with its paw which threatened to send them heels
over head down the stair; but it withheld the blow in a
moment, as if moved to some higher revenge; and all the way
down the great winding stair, it followed and showered on
them such a torrent of burning sulphur that they were almost
overwhelmed, all the while vomiting it from its burning bosom,
with a noise that resembled the hissing of a thousand great
serpents. Besides this, on every landing-place there were a
pair of monsters placed as guards, immense snakes, bears,
tigers, and lions, all with eyes like burning candles. For all
these, our two yeomen still kept their feet, which was a
wonder, and escaped fairly into the court of the castle.
   When they arrived there, every one of their companions
had taken leg-bail, and were running as if for death or life;
and after what our two champions had seen, there was no
occasion to bid them run after the others. Those above heard
only the rushing noise, which still increased as long as there
was one of those below within the gate, but they saw nothing
further,--and wondered not a little when they saw first the
horses run away, and then the men after them. When Charlie
saw that they <1were>1 gone, and his brother-in-arms Dan leaving
the outer-gate the last, he called after him to go <1by the mill,>1
<1and see that Corbie got plenty of water.>1
   What our prisoners had witnessed was, like every thing
else about that castle, quite incomprehensible. Even the great
Master himself was manifestly at a loss; when he first heard
the sound, and saw the beginning of the confusion, his eyes
beamed with exultation. He gave three stamps with his foot,
and called aloud, as to some invisible being, in an unknown
tongue; but on receiving no answer his countenance fell, and
he looked on in gloomy mood.
   The flyers vanished after their horses on the hill to the
eastward of the castle. Once a few of them rallied and faced
about; but on the next one coming up they betook them
again to their heels; and thus was our hapless embassy left
in the same state as before, save that they were rather in
higher spirits, their situation being now known, and instant
death averted. After they had refreshed themselves, most of
them fell into a slumber; but at length, as the evening advanced,
the poet claimed his privilege of telling a story. Some of them
proposed that the conversation should be general instead,
seeing the great stake for which they contended was now, in
all likelihood, superseded. The poet, however, was of a
different opinion, on the ground that the highest stake, in his
estimation, still remained. ""What though my life may not be
forfeited,'' said he, ""to feed the hungry and carnivorous maw
of this outrageous baconist; although my warm and oozing
blood may not be sucked up like the stagnant marsh by
bittern vile, or by the tawney snipe; yea, though my joints
should not be skatched and collared by the steel, or sinews
gnawed up by officious grinder: What's that to me? a gem
of higher worth, of richer acceptation, still remains. Beauty
unsullied! pure simplicity! with high endowments, in affliction
nursed, and cramped by bondage! Oh my very heart yearns
to call such a pearl of lustre mine! A kindred soul! A bosom
friend! A oh--oh--oach.''
   Charlie hasted to clap his hand on the poet's mouth, as he
burst out a-crying, ""Hout, hout, Colly!'' said he, ""I am quite
o' your opinion; but truly this is carrying the joke ower far.
I wish ye maunna hae been hauddin rather freely to your
head o' thae strong liquors; for the singing crew are a'
drowthy deils, ilk ane o' them. Whisht, whisht, and ye sal tell
your tale, or sing your sang, which you like; and then you are
free to take a collop, or gie a collop, wi' the best o' them.''
   ""I flatter myself that's rather a good thing? Eh?'' said the
poet.
   ""What thing?'' said the other.
   ""The song that we overheard just now. Do you know who
made that song? Eh?''
   ""Not I.''
   ""But you have heard our maidens chaunt it,--have you not?
God bless them! Sweet, dear, sweet, sweet creatures! Why,
Sir, that song happens to be mine; and I think I may say,
without vanity, it is as good a thing of the kind as you ever
heard? Eh?''
   ""Faith, I believe it is,'' said Charlie--not knowing well
what to say, for he had heard no song whatever; and then
turning to the rest, while the poet was enlarging on the
excellency of his song, he said, in an under voice, ""Gude
faith, the poet's either gaen clean daft, or else he's drunk.
What shall I say to him?''
   The poet tapped him on the shoulder, seeing he was not
paying attention.
   ""It is not for this, I say, that I judge the piece worthy of
attention; nor yet what it shows of ability, hability, docility,
or any of the terms that end in <1ility;>1 nor for its allegory,
category, or any of the terms that end in <1ory.>1 Neither is it
for its versification, imagination, nor any of the thousand
abominable terms that end in <1ation.>1 No, sir, the properties of
all my songs, I am thankful to Saint Martin, end in <1icity>1 and
<1uity.>1 You know the song, Yardbire?''
   ""O yes. Quite weel.''
   ""What do you think of the eleventh verse? Let me see. No,
it is the thirteenth verse.'' ""Good Friday! are there so many?''
""Hem--m--m. The tenth is, the Ox-eye, I am sure of that. The
eleventh is the Mill-stone. The twelfth, the Cloudberry and
the Shepherd Boy. The thirteenth, is the Gander and Water-
Wagtail.  It is the fourteenth. What do you think of the
fourteenth? Ay, it is the Gowans and the Laverock that you
will like best. You remember that, I am sure?''
   ""O yes; to be sure I do.''--(Aside,) ""Good Lord, the poet's
horn mad! Heard ever any body the like o' this?''
   ""How is this it runs? Ay,

                When the bluart bears a pearl,
                 And the daisy turns a pea,
                And the bonny lucken gowan
                  Has fauldit up his ee,
                Then the laverock frae the blue lift,
               Doops down and thinks nae shame
                To woo his bomny lassie,
                  When the kye come hame.

   ""The song is good, and the music of the song also is
delectable,'' said the friar; ""but the voice of the singer is like
a sweet psaltery that hath lost a string, and hath its belly
rent by the staff of the beater. Lo, I would even delight to
hear the song from beginning to end.'' ""Sing it, poet, and let
it stand for the tale,'' cried two of them at once. '"That I will
not,'' answered he; ""I will tell my tale in my own style, and
my own manner, as the rest have done: nevertheless, if my
throat were not so dry, I would sing the song,'' ""It is plain
what he wants,'' said Charlie. ""Tis the gate wi' a' the minstrels,
--<1wet the whistle, or want the spring.''>1
   Charlie handed him another cup of strong drink, desiring
him to take it off and sing. He did the first freely, and attemp-
ted the second with equal alacrity; but his voice and memory
both failed him by the way, to the great amusement of the
whole party,--even the captive boy screamed with laughter,
and the great Master was twice constrained to smile. But we
must describe this scene as Isaac himself gives it.
  The poet was sitting on a bench, with Charlie on the one
hand, and Delany on the other; and fixing his eyes on the
ceiling, and clasping his hands, which he heaved up at every
turn of the tune, he went on thus:

              THE SWEETEST THING THE BEST THING

                           <1A SONG>1

                         VERSE FIRST

                  Come tell me a' you shepherds
                    That love the tarry woo',
                  And tell me a' you jolly boys
                    That whistle at the plow,
                  What is the greatest bliss
                    That the tongue of man can name,
                  'Tis 'To woo a bonny lassie
                    When the kye come hame,
                  When the kye come hame,
                    When the kye come hame,
                  'Tween the gloaming and the mirk,
                    When the kye come hame.

  That's the burden, or the quoir, as father Cormack calls
it;--the o'erword, like.

                        VERSE SECOND

                  'Tis not beneath the burgonet,
                    Nor yet beneath the crown,
                  'Tis not on couch of velvet,
                    Nor yet in bed of down;
                  'Tis beneath the spreading birch
                    In the dell without the name,
                  Wi' a bonny bonny lassie,
                    When the kye come hame,
                  When the kye come hame, &c.

                         VERSE THIRD

                  There the blackbird bigs his nest
                    For the mate he lo'es to see,
                  And on the topmost bough,
                    Oh a happy bird is he!
                  There he pours his melting ditty,
                    And love 'tis a' the theme;
                  And he'll woo his bonny lassie
                    When the kye come hame.
                  When the kye come hame, &c.

                        VERSE FOURTH

                  When the little wee bit heart
                    Rises high in the breast,
                  And the little wee bit starn
                    Rises red in the east,
                  O there's a joy sae dear,
                    That the heart can hardly frame,
                  Wi' a bonny bonny lassie,
                    When the kye come hame.
                  When the kye come hame, &c.

                         VERSE FIFTH

                  Then the eye shines sae bright,
                    The hale soul to beguile,
                  There's love in every whisper,
                    And joy in every smile.
                  O wha wad chuse a crown
                    Wi' its perils and its fame,
                  And miss a bonny lassie
                    When the kye come hame.
                  When the kye come hame, &c.

Here the poet warred a long time with recollection, always
repeating, ""I made the thing, and it is impossible I can forget
it--I can't comprehend----'' At length he sung the following
verse, which he said was the fifteenth.

                    VERSE THE FIFTEENTH

                  See yonder pawky shepherd,
                    That lasgers on the hill,
                  His ewes are in the fauld
                    And his lambs are lying still;
                  Yet he downa gang to bed,
                    For his heart is in a flame,
                  To meet his bonnie lassie,
                    When the kye come hame,
                  When the kye come hane, &c.

                  VERSE SIXTEENTH AND LAST

                  Away wi' fame and fortune,
                    What comfort can they gie?
                  And a' the arts that prey
                    On man's life and libertye;
                  Gie me the highest joy
                    That the heart of man can frame,
                  My bonny, bonny lassie,
                   When the kye come hame.
                   When the kye come hame,
                   When the kye come hame,
              'Tween the gloaming and the mirk,
                   When the kye come hame.

   ""I made the thing,'' added the poet; ""but God knows how
I have forgot it. Since I came to the top of this cursed tower,
the wind has blown it out of my head.'' With these words he
fell into a profound sleep, which they suffered him to enjoy,
before he began his competition. In the meantime, Isaac
relates an extraordinary story of a certain consultation that
took place in the castle in that very interim, but does not say
on what authority he had it, none of the parties yet named
having apparently heard it.
   The castle of Aikwood, says he, being left as before, an
ample and perilous void, some old and frequent inmates took
undisputed possession. The leader and convoker of this gang
was no other than the Master Fiend who ordered our yeomen
out of the castle, and chased them forth, with so little
ceremony. In the great Master's study was his gigantic and
commanding frame placed at the end of the board, while the
three pages, Prig, Prim, and Pricker, were waiting his beck.
   ""Come nigh me, my friends,'' said he; ""and read me what
is to be done with this king of mighty conjurors now?''
   ""What thou willest, our Lord and Master,'' was the reply:
""Give the command with the power, and thy pleasure shall
be done.''
   ""How canst thou answer for thy negligence in suffering
this cowled and canting vagabond to gain admittance here
with his saws and parables, his crosiers and his writings?''
   ""We meant to devour him, but our power extended not to
it. Thou hast seen the bones of one whom we suspected.''
   ""You are indolent and wayward slaves. Either separate
our greatest vassal on earth from this captious professor, or
you shall be punished with many stripes. Our sway is dis-
honoured if such a man as he is suffered to take shelter under
a crosier, and there hold our power at bay,--our control at
defiance.''--  ""Return to him that power which since his
dejection has been withdrawn, and you are sure of him
still.  Riches and honours he despises: feasting and wine-
bibing he abhors: but for power to do what no other man
can perform, he would sell twenty souls, were they in his
power of disposal.''
   ""He is a great man, and well suited for our free independent
government. By his principle of insubordination to established
authorities, I yet hope to bring all mankind to my own mind
and my own country. Read me my riddle, you three slaves.
What is the most hateful thing in nature?''
   ""A saint.''
   ""More ready than right, and more right than ingenious.
Show cause.''
   ""Because he is the greatest coward, and all that he does
springs from the detestable passion of terror.''
   ""Right. Which being is the most noble?''
   ""The opposer of all established authorities ordained by the
tyrant of the universe.''
   ""Right! Right! These are the men for me, and of these
this Master was a great ensample.  Therefore, Separate!
Separate! Separate! My elemental power is solemnly engaged;
but on the morning of the third day, it shall be given to you
to work again at your Master's will. Till that time it will be
as well to prevent all ingress and egress here; and at that
time I will come again. Speed you well, nimble noddies;
shape well and shard well, and the day is your own. While I
transform my shape, sing me the song that I love. Whenever
I hear it, my furtherance is the better.'' The imps complied,
and the redoubted fiend laughed till the walls of the castle
shook, while those on the top took it for the great bittern of
the Hartwood, called there the Bogbumper.

             HYMN TO THE DEVIL

             SPEED thee, speed thee!
                    Liberty lead thee!
             Many this night shall hearken and heed thee.
                       Far abroad,
                       Demigod!
                  What shall appal thee?
             Javel, or Devil, or how shall we call thee?
             Thine the night voices of joy and of weeping,
             The whisper awake, and the vision when sleeping:
             The bloated kings of the earth shall brood
             On princedoms and provinces bought with blood,
             Shall slubber, and snore, and to-morrow's breath
             Shall order the muster and march of death:
             The trumpets shall sound, and the gonfalons flee,
             And thousands of souls step home to thee.
             Speed thee, speed thee, &c.

             The warrior shall dream of battle begun,
             Of field-day and foray, and foeman undone;
             Of provinces sacked, and warrior store,
             Of hurry and havoc, and hampers of ore;
             Of captive maidens for joys abundant,
             And ransom vast when these grow redundant
Hurray! for the foray. Fiends ride forth a souling,
For the dogs of havock are yelping and yowling.
           Speed thee, speed thee, &c.
           Make the bedesman's dream
           With treasure to teem-
           To-day and to-morrow
           He has but one aim,
  And 'tis still the same, and 'tis still the same.
But well thou knowest the sot's demerit,
His richness of flesh, and his poorness of spirit;
And well thy images thou canst frame,
On canvas of pride, with pencil of flame:
A broad demesne is a view of glory,
For praying a soul from purgatory:
And, O let the dame be fervent and fair,
Amorous, and righteous, and husband beware!
For there's a confession so often repeated,
The eyes are enlightened, the life-blood is heated.
Hish!-Hush!-soft foot and silence,
The sons of the abbot are lords of the Highlands,
Thou canst make lubbard and lighthead agree,
Wallow a while, and come home to thee.
           Speed thee, speed thee, &c.

Where goest thou next, by hamlet or shore,
When kings, when warriors, and priests are o'er?
These for thee have the most to do,
And these are the men must be looked unto.
On courtier deign not to look down,
Who swells at a smile, and faints at a frown.
With noble maid stay not to parle,
But give her one glance of the golden arle.
Then, oh, there's a creature thou needs must see,
Upright, and saintly, and stern is she!
'Tis the old maid, with visage demure,
With cat on her lap, and dogs on the floor,
Master, she'll prove a match for thee,
With her psalter, and crosier, and Ave Mari.
Move her with things above and below,
Tickle her and teaze her from lip to toe;
Should all prove vain, and nothing can move;
If dead to ambition, and cold to love,
One passion still success will crown,
A glorious energy all thine own!
'Tis envy; a die that never can fail
With children, matron, or maiden stale.
Shew them in dreams from night to day
A happy mother, and offspring gay;
Show them the maiden in youthful prime,
Followed and wooed, improving her time;
And their hearts wil sicken with envy and spleen,
A leperous jaundice of yellow and green:
And though frightened for hell to a boundless degree,
They'll singe their dry perriwigs yet with thee.
           Speed thee, speed thee, & c.
                  Where goest thou next? Where wilt thou hie thee?
                  Still there is rubbish enough to try thee.
                  Whisper the matron of lordly fame,
                  There's a greater than she in splendor and name;
                  And her bosom shall swell with the grievous load,
                  And torrents of slander shall volley abroad,
                  Imbued with venom and bitter despair:
                  O sweet are the sounds to the Prince of the Air!.
                  Reach the proud yeoman a bang with a spear,
                  And the tippling burgess a yerk on the ear;
                  Put fees in the eye of the poisoning leech,
                  And give the dull peasant a kick on the breech:
                  As for the flush maiden, the rosy elf,
                  You may pass her by, she will dream of herself.
                  But that all may be gain, and nothing loss,
                  Keep eye on the men with the cowl and the cross;
                  Then shall the world go swimming before thee,
                  In a full tide of liberty, licence, and glory!
                           Speed thee, speed thee, &c.

                  Hail, patriot spirit! thy labours be blest!
                  For of all great reformers thyself wert the first;
                  Thou wert the first, with discernment strong,
                  To perceive that all rights divine were wrong;
                  And long hast thou spent thy sovereign breath,
                  In heaven above and in earth beneath,
                  And roared it from thy burning throne,
                  The glory of independence alone;
                  Proclaiming to all, with fervor and irony,
                  That kingly dominion's all humbug and tyranny;
                  And whoso listeth may be free,
                  For freedom, full freedom's the word with thee!
                  That life has its pleasures-the rest is a sham
                  And all that comes after a flim and a flam!
                           Speed thee! Speed the!
                           Liberty lead thee!
                  Many this night shall hearken and heed thee.
                               Hie abroad,
                               Deraigod!
                           Who shall defame thee?
                  King of the Elements! how shall we name thee?

   As the imps concluded their song, our prisoners on the top
of the castle perceived a large rough watch-dog jogging out
at the gate of the castle, and following in the direction of the
fugitives. When the brute saw that he was perceived he turned
round, set up his snout toward the battlements, and uttered
a loud bow-wow-wow, which, when the great Master heard,
he started to his feet, and, with wild staring looks, and his
hair standing on end, took shelter behind the friar.
   ""Behold thou, and see with thine eyes, that it is only a
watch-dog come from the camp of our captain,'' said the
friar. ""Lo, thy very nature is changed since first I saw thee.''
   ""Then would to the gods that I had never seen thee, or
that I had seen thee sooner,'' said the Master; and strode
away to discourage any farther reply. The dog followed the
fugitives, and bent his course toward the mill.
   That being the next inhabited house to the eastward, Dan
Chisholm and his yeomen landed all there; and in full assembly
he related, to their terror and astonishment, how he had
seen the devil himself and several of his monstrous agents,
who had chased him from the castle, spuing fire and brim-
stone on him like a cataract. The rest said, that though they
had not seen the devil, they had seen and heard enough to
put any rational being out of his senses, and as much as to
teach them never to go there again. Dan swore that they
were not to be taught any such thing; for, said he, ""Our
captain's friends, and our own brethren in arms, are most
unwarrantably, and I must also say unaccountably, confined
there,--and we will either free them or perish in the attempt.
I can find plenty of holy men that, with book and candle,
can withstand the devil, and shall make him flee from his
stronghold like fire from the flint. If I had the gospel friar
on the one side of him, and Father Brand, or Capuchin
Cairnabie, on the other, I shall gar him skip.'' While Dan was
in the middle of this speech, in comes the great rough watch-
dog; who, after fawning on some of the warriors as on old
acquaintances, took his station in a dark corner of the miller's
thronged hall, and began a licking his feet, but at the same
time taking good heed to all that passed. It was finally agreed
that Dan and a companion should ride straight to Melrose,
and represent their case to the holy abbot there, who was
devoted to the interests of their captain, and who, it was not
doubted, would devise means of expelling the old demon
from his guardship, and letting free their friends, who were
all baptised men and good Christians. As they formed these
sapient devices, many hard things were said of the devil; and
our warriors seemed rather inclined to make a laughing-stock
of him, till the miller's maid interrupted them with the
following question:
   ""Wha o' you trooper chaps does this maskis dog belang
to?''
   ""To nane o' us,'' was answered by several at the same time.
   ""I wish ye wad tent him, then,'' said she, ""for, this wee
while bygane, his een hae been glentin like twa blue burnin
candles. I wish he be nae a mad ane.''
   ""Sneck doors, and out swords,'' cried the miller: ""We'll
hae him proven.''
   The doors were shut, and the yeomen surrounded the dog
with their drawn weapons. The poor beast lay as harmlesslike
as a lamb, with his head upon his fore feet so as to hide them,
turning up his eyes from below his shaggy brows in a be-
seeching manner, and wagging his tail till it played thump,
thump, on the floor. But this did not hinder the miller from
reconnoitring, though it gave him rather a favourable opinion
of his shaggy guest. ""Poor fellow,'' said the miller, ""wha's dog
may ye be?'' The dog forgot himself; he lifted up his head in
a kind acknowledging manner to the miller, who, looking
narrowly at him, cried out: ""A marvel!, a marvel! saw ever
ony mortal man the like o' this? Here's a tyke wi' cloven
cloots like a gait, fairney cloots and a' thegither. The Holy
Virgin be wi' us! I believe we hae gotten the----''
   Here the miller was interrupted, without getting the
sentence concluded. The dog sprung to his feet, appearing
twice as big as when he entered. ""Bow-wow-wow!'' roared
he in the miller's face with the voice of an enraged lion; ""Bow-
wow-wow!'' And as he bayed from side to side on the warrior
circle, they all retreated backward till the wall stopped them.
Well might they,--for they perceived, by his open mouth,
the same appearance that Dan had before witnessed, namely,
a stomach and chest of burning flame. ""Bow-wow-wow!''
reiterated he: ""Youph, youph, youph.'' All fled back aghast:
but the attack was of short duration. The miller had a huge
fire of seeds, above a burning log of wood, which he had
heaped on for the comfort of his guests. When the dog reached
that, he broke into it, appearing to bury himself in the coil
of fiery dust. It flashed upwards in millions of burning atoms,
and in the midst of them up flew the dog out at the top of the
lum, with a tremendous ""Bow-wow-wow!''
   All was silence for a few seconds, while our yeomen stood
in a circle, with their weapons drawn, and their backs to the
wall, gaping with affright, and staring on one another. ""By
Saint Thomas, we are haunted!'' cried Dan, breaking silence;
""That is the same chap I forgathered wi' afore in the stair-
case of the castle, I ken him by his lowin lungs, though he
has changed his shape.'' He was interrupted by a loud laugh
on the top of the house, and a voice that said, in a jeering
tone, ""Ha, ha, ha! Andrew Chisholm is that you? I have
found out a' your plans,--and ride you to Melrose, or ride you
to Dryburgh, I'll be there afore you to lend you a lift. Ay,
and I'll keep Aikwood castle in spite o' you and a' your
master's men.''
   Dan could not contain his indignation on hearing this brag.
He ran forward to the brace, put his neck under it, and turning
his nose up the lum (or rustic chimney) answered, ""Deil o'
that ye're fit to do, auld tyke. Ye're but a liar at best and
the father o' liars. Gang and toast heathen bacon in your ain
het hame. What seek ye here amang leel men?''
   ""Weel answered, and like yoursel, Dan!'' said one of the
yeomen, and slapped him on the shoulder, which rousing his
spirit still farther, he added, ""Confound you Robin's GeordIe
o' Feindhope-haugh, what for didna ye strike when the foul
thief set up his gousty gab at your nose wi' his impudent bow-
wow-wow; I see nae right ony o' God's creatures hae to be
hurlbarrowed out o' their standing wi' him.''
   As he finished the remark, there was something came to
the door, and gave two or three rude impatient scratches,
exactly in the same manner that a strong dog does that wants
to be in. This instantly changed the cheer of our sturdy
group, that with one involuntary movement closed round
the hearth, as the point the most distant from the door.
   ""That's him again,'' said the miller's lass.
   ""The Lord forbid,'' said the miller: ""I wonder what multure
he wants frae me. Though I live on the lands of a Master of
Arts, I had nae inkling that I was thirl to hell. Brave lads,
can nane of you rhame a mass, a credo, or a paternoster?
He is but a coward at best; I hae kend a monk, wi' his crosier
and his cowl, chace him like a rabbit.''
   ""I fear we'll prove but lame hands at that,'' said Dan, ""and
think we had better sally out on him sword in hand, and see
what he can either say or do for himself. But, Chryste, I
needna say that, considering that I ken sae weel what his
lining's made of.''
   ""I hae a cross and chain in the house,'' said the miller,
""that was consecrated at the shrine of St Bothan; whoever
will be our leader shall bear that before him, and we'll bang
the auld thief away frae our bigging.''
   The scratching was renewed with redoubled fury. Our
yeomen crowded closer around the fire, till all at once their
ears were saluted by a furious ""bow-wow-wow'' down the
lum, which, in spite of their utmost resolution, scattered
them like a covey of heath-fowl over which the hawk is
hovering, when every one endeavours to shift for itself, and
hide in its own heather bush.
   Their faces were by this time flushed with shame as well as
fear, that they should be thus cuffed about by ""the auld
thief,'' as they styled him. Resolved, therefore, to make one
great and strenuous effort, the miller brought out his con-
secrated cross, some tied sticks, and others horn spoons
across, till all were armed with the same irresistible symbol, and
then they marshalled up before the fire, uncovered their
heads, and with the ensigns reared before them, waited for a
moment the word of command to march out to the grand
attack. The arch fiend, not choosing to wait the issue, raised
such a horse laugh on the top of the lum that their ears were
deafened with the noise; and clapping his paws that sounded
like the strokes of battering ram's horns, he laughed till the
upper and nether millstones chattered against each other,
and away he bounded through the clouds of the night,
apparently in an agony of laughter.
   ""Aha! there he goes!'' said Dan: ""There's nae guidance to
be had o' him, and as little mense in meddling wi' him.''
   ""Ay, let him e'en gang,'' said the miller; ""he's the warst
mouse o' the mill. Ane had better tine the blind bitch's
litter than hae the mill singed wi' brimstone. I lurd rather
deal wi' the thankless maltster, that neither gi'es coup,
neivefu', nor lippie, than wi' him. I have no part of the
breviary but a glorious preamble; kneel till I repeat it.''
   The troopers kneeled round the miller, who, lifting up his
hands, said, with great fervour, ""O semper timidum scelus!
Obstupui, steteruntque comae et vox faucibus haesit. O Deus;
nusquam tuta fides! Amen.'' ""Amen!'' repeated all the group,
and arose greatly strengthened and encouraged by the miller's
<1preamble.>1
   They spent that night around the miller's hearth, and had
a cog of good brose to their supper. The next morning Dan
and two associates rode off for Melrose, to lay their case
before the friendly abbot, and to beg assistance; which, not-
withstanding the devil's brag, they were not afraid of obtaining.
But the important events that followed must be related in
course, while we return to those friends in their elevated
confinement, to whom that night the poet related the
following tale.
                        CHAPTER XXII

        <1Lord Duf.>1 Did you not wake them, Cornaro?
             <1Cor.>1 Alas! my lord, I could not.
             Their slumber was so deep, it seemed to me
             A sleep eternal. Not a sleep of death,
             But of extatic silence. Such a beam
             Of joy and happiness I ne'er beheld
             Shed from the human face.
                          <1The Prioress, A Tragedy.>1

                       THE POET'S TALE

FAIN would I tell my friends and fellow sufferers of my
translation hence. Of all the joys and ecstacies of that celestial
clime, ycleped the land of faery; were it not that one is here
whose sex forbids it, and whose gentle nature from such a
tale would shrink, as doth the flower before the nipping gale.
You all have heard of that celestial form, the white lady?
And of that wan and beatific presence there lives in my re-
membrance some faint image of saintly beauty. But list to
me, my friends, and do not smile, far less break forth with
loud uncourteous neigh, like war horse in the charge,--vile
waste of breath! convulsive, unrestrained. But hear the truth:
<1It was not she who bore me from this land,--not she, the>1
<1white lady,>1 as all divined. No, it was a form of flesh, and that
flesh too of most rare quality. Fair, witching, plump, rosy
and amorous; and of unmarred proportions. Sooth, she who
lured me from my rustic home no other was than wandering
minstreless, queen of the mightiest harper ever born. Sole
empress of a tuneful wayward choir, thoughtless and giddy.
But their music stole my very soul away. What couId I do but
follow it, to listen and to sing. In that bright train I sought
the Scottish court, the nobles' hall, and every motely scene
of loud festivity throughout the land. There have I heard and
seen such scenes of love, of dalliance, and of mirth, of deep
intrigue and violent cruelty, as eye of minstrel hath not
witnessed. Yes, I have seen things not to be expressed, at
least not here. Therefore I'll change the rule this night pursued,
of saying what myself have seen and done. The fairy land in
which I sojourned was fair Caledon; and there I had my
living minstrel joys in high abundance. But I grieve to say, a
fatal brawl placed all of us within the line to which the
sword of vengeance extends its dreadful sway. Our group
dispersed. The soul of melody was then no more! The sounds
of harmony divine were hushed; all scattered on the winds
of other lands, and other climes, to charm with wailing
numbers. Southward I came, amid the border clans to trust
my life, men lawless as myself. They once had saved me when
a helpless orphan. Whom could I better trust? And I have
found their generosity alone out-done by their own courage.
For my adventures, let this sketch suffice. And though not
of the fairyland, I will relate a tale, as pure, as wonderful and
full of mystery, as if in other worlds I'd learned it. I had it
from a simple peasant's mouth, an old grey hind upon the
Sidley hills, who vouched its truth. With faltering tongue, and
palpitating heart, for love, for life, and all the soul holds
dear, I say my tale. O be my soul rapt to the estimate at
which I hold the prize, and the divine and holy narrative.
   Once on a time, in that sweet northern land called
Otholine, the heathen Hongar landed, and o'er-ran city and
dale. The rampart and the flood in vain withstood his might.
Even to the base of the unconquered Grampians did he wend
with fire and sword; and all who would not kneel, and sacrifice
to his strange northern gods, he tortured to the death. Some
few renounced the cross, for sordid life, and dread of un-
heard torments. Men were roasted, matrons impaled; and
pure virginity was given up to the rude soldiery to be abused,
or humbled as they termed it. Then were they decked with
flowers and ornaments, led forth in pairs unto the horrid
shrine, and sacrificed to Odin.
  At that time there lived three beauteous sisters of the line
of mighty kings. They were so passing fair, that all who saw
them wondered, and all who wondered loved. Hongar and
Hubba, these two heathen brothers, and princes of the Danes,
heard of their fame, their beauty, and their excellencies of
nature, and sent to seize them in their father's tower, that in
the heights of Stormonth stood secure. The castle was sur-
prised, the virgins seized, and carried to the camp. There to
their dreadful trial were they brought, and bid to curse the
sacred name they feared and worshipped; to renounce the holy
cross, and worship Odin, or give up their bodies to shame, to
ignominy, and to death on Odin's hideous altar. Marley and
Morna both kneeled and intreated, begged a little time to
ponder on the dread alternative. But the young sprightly
Lena, fairest she of Albyn's virgins, browed the invader's
threat with dauntless eye: That eye whose liquid smile in
love's sweet converse had been formed to beam.
  ""Thou savage heathen!'' cried she, ""dost thou think to
intimidate the royal maids of Caledon to thy most barbarous
faith? Tyrant, thou art deceived. I dare thine ire. Thou may'st
torment me; for I'm in thine hands, and thy heart ne'er knew
pity. Thou may'st tear this tender fragile form with pincing
irons. But my soul's purity thou never shall subdue by threat,
by engine, or by flame. Thee and thy god I scorn--I curse you
both. I lean upon the rock that will not yield; and put my
trust in one whose mighty arm can crush thee and thy idol
to an atom. I know he'll save me. He will save us all, if we
but trust him without sinful dread. Here, underneath his
bleeding cross, I kneel, and cast myself and my poor sisters
here, upon his mercy. Here I make a vow to stand for him,
and for his sacred truth, and for no other. Now, thou ruthless
savage, here I defy thee. Do thy worst to us, and thou shalt
see if Jesus or if Odin shall prevail, and who can best preserve
their worshippers.
   The heathen brothers smiled; and Hongar said, ""How wildly
sweet the little Christian looks! I make my choice to humble
and prepare her for the base slaves of Odin's warlike halls.
Go warriors, lock them up in donjon deep, until the hour of
midnight, when the rites of Odin shall begin. Then will we
send and bring them to the test; and all shall see whose God is
most in might, and who must yield.''
   In prison dark the virgins were immured, with sevenfold
gates and sevenfold bars shut in. Soon as they were alone, the
sisters twain, Marley and Morna, in fond tears embraced their
youngest sister, lauded her high soul, and vowed with her to
stand, with her to die, unsullied in the faith they had been
taught.
  Then did they kneel on the cold dungeon floor, and one
by one offered their fervent prayers at mercy's footstool.
But chiefly were their vows made to the Holy Virgin; for
they hoped that she would save their pure virginity from
sin's pollution. Never did prayers ascend up to heaven with
greater fervency. And as the hour of midnight on them drew,
they kneeled; and, side by side, with lifted hands, and eyes
turned toward heaven, sang aloud this holy simple hymn to
their Redeemer.


              HYMN TO THE REDEEMER

                SON of the Virgin, hear us! hear us!
                Son of the living God, be near us
                Thou who art man in form and feature,
                Yet God of glory, and God of nature,
                Thou who led'st the star of the East,
                Yet helpless lay at a Virgin's breast;
                Slept in the manger, and cried on the knee,
                Yet rules o'er Time and Eternity.
                Pity thy creatures here kneeling in dust;
                Pity the beings in thee that trust!
           Thou who fed'st the hungry with bread,
                And raised'st from the grave the mouldering dead;
                Who walked'st on the waves of the rolling main,
                Who cried'st to thy Father, and cried'st in vain;
                Yet wept for the woes and the sins of man,
                And prayed'st for them when thy life-blood ran;
                With thy last breath who cried'st FORGIVE!
                When bleeding and dying, that man might live!
                Over death and the grave hast the victory won,
                And now art enthron'd by the stars and the sun,
                For thy name's glory, hear us, and come,
                And show thy power over idols dumb.
           O leave the abodes of glory and bliss,
                The realms of heavenly happiness;
                Come swifter than the gale of even
                On thy lightning's wing, the chariot of heaven;
                By the gates of light and the glowing sphere,
                O come on thy errand of mercy here!
                But Lord of glory we know not thee,
                  We know not what we say;
                We cannot from thy presence be,
                  Nor from thine eye away:
                For though on the right hand of God,
                Thou art here in this dark and drear abode:
                Beyond the moon and the starry way
                Thou holdest thy Almighty sway,
                Where spirits in floods of light are swimming,
                And angels round thy throne are hymning;
                Yet present with all who call on thee
                In this world of wo and adversity.
          Then, O, thou Son of the Virgin, hear us!
                God of love and of life be near us!
                Our hour of trial is at hand,
                And without thy aid how shall we stand?
                Our stains wash out, our sins forgive;
                And before thee may our spirits live.
                For thee and thy truth be our bosoms steeled:
                O be our help, our stay, our shield:
                Show thy dread power for mercy's sake,
                For thy name, and thy glory, and all is at stake;
                Bow down thy heavens, and rend them asunder,
                And come in the cloud, in the flame, or the thunder.


  The trumpets now were sounding, while the host arose
from wine and wassail, to prepare the baleful sacrifice of
Christian souls.  The virgins heard, and trembled as they
kneeled; and beauteous Lena raised her slender hands, and
prayed, with many tears, that the Almighty would stretch
out his right hand and close their eyes in everlasting sleep, to
save them from self-slaughter, or the fate they dreaded more.
  While yet the words were but in utterance, and ere the
vow was vowed, they heard the gates unbarred one after one,
and saw the lights glance through the lurid gloom. Each
youthful heart turned, as it were, to stone; for well they
weened the Danish soldiers came to bring them forth to
shame and death. They kept their humble posture, with hands
and eyes upraised, for they expected no pity or compassion
save from heaven.
   The inmost door upon its hinges turned, like thunder out
of tune; and, lo! there entered,--no heathen soldier,--but a
radiant form covered with light as with a flowing robe. In his
right hand he bore a golden rod, and in his left a lamp that
shone as bright as the noon-day sun. A thousand thousand
gems, from off his raiment, cast their dazzling lustre. Dia-
monds and rubies formed alternate stars, while all between
was rayed and spangled o'er with ever-varying brightness.
Round his head he wore a wreath of emeralds; these were
set with never-fading green. They deemed he was the great
high priest of Odin come to lead them to the sacrifice. But yet
his look, so mild and so benign, raised half a hope within
their breasts of pity and regard. They were about to plead;
but ere a sound breathed from their lips, the stranger beckon-
ed them to silence. Then, in mild and courteous strain, in
their own tongue, he thus accosted them:
   ""TO ONE already have your vows been framed; and would
you bow to another? You have pleaded to heaven's high
King; and would you plead to man? Rise up, and follow me.''
The virgins rose; they had not power to stay,--and followed
him, alas! they knew not whither. They had no voice to
question or complain. Door after door they passed; gate
after gate; and still their guide touching them with his golden
rod, they closed in jangling fury. Onward still they moved, and
met the heathen bands, led by their chiefs, Hongar and Hubba.
They were drunk with wine; and loudly did they halloo when
they saw their prey escaped, and walking on the street all
beauteous and serene.  Closing around the fugitives, and
jabbering uncouth terms and words obscene, the chiefs
opened their arms to seize the helpless three. Just then their
guide turned round unmoved, and waving his bright rod, the
heathens staggered, uttered mumbling sounds, and, trying
vainly to support themselves, reeling they sunk enfeebled to
the earth, where all as still and motionless they lay as piles
of lifeless corpses. How the virgins wondered at what they
saw! and fearless now they followed their bright leader. Next
they met the priests of Odin, in their wild attire, marching in
grand procession to the scene of mighty sacrifice. Aloft they
bore their hideous giant idol; by his sides his loathsome consort
and his monster son, Freya and Thor, while all their followers
sung this choral hymn in loud and warlike strains:

      HYMN TO ODIN

                     I
      HE comes!   he comes!
      Great Odin comes!
Who can rise or stand before him?
      The god of the bloody field,
      The sword, and the ruddy shield;
The god of the Danes, let all adore him.
                  II
      Wake the glad measure to
    The goddess of pleasure too,
Who fills every hero with joy and with love!
      And hail to dread Thor,
          Great son of great sire,
      The quaffer of gore,
          And the dweller in fire:
The god of the sun, and the lightnings above.
                  III
      Prepare! prepare!
      The feast prepare,
Since mighty Thor our guest shall be:
      Three times three,
      And three times three,
This day shall bleed for repast to thee!
                  IV
      Strike the light,
      Make the flames burn bright,
Since Freya is here who gives delight!
      Three times three,
      And nine times nine,
This day shall bleed on altar of thine.
                  V
      Shout and sing,
      Till the mountains ring!
The father of men, and of gods the king!
      See him advance
      With sword and lance;
Billows of life-blood, heroes, bring!
                                VI

      God of Ahallah's dome!
      God of the warrior's home!
Who can withstand thee in earth or heaven?
      Bring to his altar then,
      Of Christian dames and men,
Nine times nine, and seven times seven.
                  VII
      Bend to your place of birth,
      Children of sordid earth;
The gods of battles your homage disdains.
      Who dare oppose him?
      Christian or Moslem?
Who is like Odin, the god of the Danes?
  The maids and their angelic guide went on following the
cross; and as they went, they sung in sweet and humble
aspirations the song of the Lamb. They met the gorgeous
files. Fair met with fair. The hideous idols sat an hundred
cubits high; whereas the cross a maiden's hand upbore. But
when they met, the proud and mighty peal, swelling from
Odin's worshippers, was hushed as with a sob. The hills rang
with the sound; and the o'erburdened air bore the last knell
up to the skies. It quavered through the spheres, and died in
distance, to be heard no more, while nought but the sweet
notes the virgins sung rose on the paths of night. The motely
mass of heathens stood amazed, and as they stood they
listened and they quaked. The words were these at which they
paused, and which the virgins sung:

                          *    *    *

             Silence the blasphemers thee that defy,
             Strike down the mighty, Son of the Most High;
             Rise in thy power, that the heathen may see,
             What dust are their gods and their glory to thee;
             Raise thy right hand, and in pieces them shiver,
             That to the true God may the pralse be for ever.


  At every line the bearers and their gods trembled the more,
and as the last notes closed, the mighty Odin toppled from
his throne, and crashed amid his powerless worshippers. His
wooden spouse and son fell with the sire of Gods and men,
and in a thousand pieces their gilded frames were dashed.
Confusion reigned. The host fled in dismay; but Odin's
priests sunk down in low prostration, groaning and howling
for the fall of Odin,--the shield and glory of the Danish host.
   From out this wild confusion the bright guide conducted
the three virgins, to a cave close by the river's brink, and
charged them hide until the wrath of the enraged foe should
be abated. ""Here,'' said he, ""you are in perfect safety. No
one living knows of this retreat. Here sleep and take your
rest. May angels watch around your flinty couch. Farewell, I
must begone on the employ assigned me by your father and
by mine.'' He left the lamp and went his way. Forthwith they
kneeled in prayer, thanking their Saviour for their great
deliverance, then laid them down to rest; They kissed the
cross, and folded closely in each other's arms, cheek leaning
unto cheek, with holy hymns they sung themselves asleep.
  Great was the rage among the Danish chiefs, and wide the
search for these presumptuous and bold aggressors. The host
was all discouraged and amazed, and nought but terror
reigned. Earldoms were offered for the audacious maids, dead
or alive. But nor alive nor dead could they be found, either
by friend or foe. O dreadful were the execrations uttered by
the Danes. They called them demons, witches, and the worst
of all incendiaries. Well they might. The terror of their arms
was broken. Great was the rejoicing mid the hills and glens
of Albyn, but the eastern vallies groaned beneath the fury of
the savage Dane, and Christian blood was shed on every
cross.
   The virgins waked at morn, and still the lamp sent forth
its feeble glimmer through the cave. The day-beam through
the crevice of the rock streamed in and mixed with it. The
virgins strove to rise, to speak--to sing a morning hymn. But
all their limbs were cold, and their tongues clove fast to their
thirsty palates. Lena, first of all the three, upraised her pallid
form, and on the lamp turning her drowsy eye, there did it
settle, closed, and oped again, but still with faded and un-
certain light, as if the mind were lacking. Long she sat, half
raised in this uneasy torpid state,--this struggle 'twixt oblivion
and life. Oft she assayed her sisters to awake, by naming
them; but still as oft the names died in a whisper. By degrees
her mind dawned into recollection, as the moon breaks o'er
the sullen twilight. Then the wonders, that she had seen
o'ernight, aroused her soul to all its wonted energy. She
kneeled, and thanked her Maker for the great deliverance to
them vouchsafed. And when her sisters woke, they woke to
join her in a heavenly song.
   ""What ails our sister? Here we are in safety. Why does our
dear beloved not rest in peace? The night is not far spent: the
dawn of morn is yet far distant. O dear Lena sleep. Sleep on,
and take your rest. The morning sun is yet beneath the deep.
Our limbs are cold; our eyes are heavy; yet we cannot rise,
for we are weary and not half awake.''
   ""Wake, my beloved sisters. It is time. The noon is at its
height. See how the sun peeps through the granite cliffs, and
on the stream sheds ray of trembling silver. Let us rise and
talk of all the wonders we have seen.''
   Long they conversed in tears of gratitude, still peeping
from their cavern, lest the Dane again should find and drag
them to the altar. Sore were they pressed by hunger. From
the stream they drank abundantly with thankful hearts. But
food for many a day and many a night they scarce had tasted,
and they longed for it with more than ordinary longing. Night
approached; and there they sat, not knowing what to do, a
prey to gnawing hunger. At the last, young Lena said, ""I
cannot ween that heaven hath wrought a miracle for our
relief, and for no higher purpose than that we should be left
to die of hunger in this dark and hideous den. Again I'll put
my life into its hand, and go into the city after twilight in
search of bread; and if I die I die: Heaven's will be done.'' Her
sisters looked at her, and blessed her in the holy Virgin's
name. They could not bid her go where danger waited, so
great, so imminent; and yet they felt they could not press
her stay. With cautious eye, and with enfeebled step, trembling
she sought the city gate. But when, afar, she saw by torch-
light porters striding to and fro, with glittering lances of
enormous length, and ponderous battle axes, her heart failed,
and she drew back. But then she thought again of those she
left behind, and all the throes of perishing with hunger, and
resolved to risk all hazards. The huge gate stood open, and
strangers went and came. ""I'll join,'' thought she, ""this
straggling crew, and enter among them; they speak my native
tongue. Ah! they must be a band of traitorous base renegades,
that have renounced the cross and joined the Dane; else where-
fore free to go and come and trade? I'm all unsafe with such.''
The strangers eyed her with most curious and piercing looks,
and whispered as they went. They seemed afraid, and shunned
her by the way, as they who shun a being infected by the
pestilence, or spirit from the dead. No one addressed a word
to her, and hurried to the gate.
   She came alone, for feeble was her step, and her breast
palpitating as with throb of burning fever, hopeless of ad-
mission.
   The porters stared with wide extended gaze, and eyes
protruding; but no word they spoke, nor crossed their lances.
Straight she entered in. ""What can this mean?'' thought she;
""There is a change since yester-even that it passes thought to
comprehend. These keepers are not Danes; I heard them speak
in Albyn's ancient tongue; and yet methinks they wear the
Danish garb. How's this? that I am free to come and go, as in
my childhood, when the land was free?''
   She passed the sacred fane, and there beheld crowds entering
in; but fast she sped away, weening they went to Odin's
cursed rites.
   She went to those that sold, and asked for bread. The
woman stared at her with silent gaze. She asked again, and
straight the huckster fled in floundering haste. Poor Lena
stood amazed. ""How's this?'' said she, ""where'er I show my
face the people shun me. Here I shall remain, for I am faint
with hunger, till I taste some of these cakes, which I can well
repay.''
   She stood not long until she was accosted by holy bedes-
man, who, with cautious step, and looks of terror, entered,
fast repeating his <1Ave Maria.>1 ""In the Virgin's name,'' cried he,
""and under sanction of this cross, I charge thee tell who or
from whence thou art.''
   The virgin kneeled, and kissed the holy symbol, but waived
direct reply. ""I lack some bread to give to those that famish,
and I'll pay for that which I receive,'' was her reply.
   ""Then 'tis the bread of life that thou dost lack; man's
natural food I fear thou can'st not use, for thou art not a
being of this world, but savour'st of the grave. Thy robes
are mouldy, and fall from off thy frame? Thy lips are parched
and colourless. These eyes have not the light of human life.
Thou ominous visitant, declare from whence thou art, and on
what mission thou com'st to this devoted wasted land?''
   Lena looked up. The holy father's face to her appeared
familiar.  But how great the change since last she saw it.
""Father Brand, dost thou not know me?'' was her home reply.
   With blenching cheek and with unstable eye the father
gazed, and, faultering, stammered forth, ""No. Jesu Maria, be
thy servant's shield! Yes. Now I know thee. Art thou not the
spirit of the hapless Ellamere, who was put down within our
convent for a wilful breach of its most sacred law? Avaunt!
Begone! Nor come thou here t' accuse those that grieved for
thee, while they executed just vengeance on thy life. Injurious
ghost! Thy curses have fallen heavy on our heads, and brought
the wrath of heaven upon our land in tenfold measure. In the
Saviour's name, whose delegate I am, I charge thee hence
unto thy resting-place,--to that award that heaven's strict
justice hath ordained for thee; and come not, with that pale
and withering look, more curses and more judgments to
pronounce.''
   ""Reach me thine hand,'' said she, and held her's forth,
meaning to work convinction on his mind that she was flesh
and blood. Her arm was wan as death itself, emaciated and
withered, and furred with lines, livid and colourless, as by
corrodent vapours of the grave. The monk withdrew his hand
within his frock, shook his grey locks, and, with slow palsied
step, moved backward till the threshold stone he gained;
then turned and fled amain. The household dame fled also
from her inner door, from which she peered and listened,
and the wondering virgin again was left alone. She waited
there in wild and dumb incertitude a space; then took some
bread, some fruits, and baken meat, laid some money down
as an equivalent, and went away to seek her dark retreat.
   But as she passed the fane, with wary step she ventured to
the porch, and, marvelling, heard the whole assembly, joined
in rapt devotion, praising the name of Jesus. Close she stood,
and, darkling as it was, joined in the choir so much beloved.
But all the wonders she so late had seen yielded to this. In one
short night, one strange eventful night, such things were done
as human intellect, with all its cunning, could not calculate.
   She passed the gate. The gaping sentinels stood, as they
did before, immoveable, each casting sidelong glances unto
his mate, to note who first should fly or call the word. She
beckoned them as with intent to speak; but in one moment
porters, spears, and axes scattered and vanished in the dark-
some shade.
   Reaching the cave, she found the lamp gone out that their
mysterious deliverer had left them over night. First she regaled
her sisters' hearts with the miraculous tidings that all the
people worshipped Jesus' name without dismay or molestation,
who, but the night before, not for their lives durst have acknow-
ledged him: That all seemed free to go and come, and pray to
whom they listed. The tale seemed a romance,--a dream of
wild delirium. The Danes could not be banished in a night,
and all the land cleared of the vile idolatry of Odin. They
disbelieved the whole, as well they might, but held their
peace, dreading their sister's mind mazed in derangement.
Still, as she went on, saying that all whom she had met or
seen supposed her one arisen from the dead, or ghost of
some departed criminal, strangled for breach of a monastic
vow, then did they grasp each other's hands, and weep for
their dear sister's sad mishap. They deemed her mad as raving
whirlwind, or the music of mountain cataract. Yet she had
brought them food of various sorts, which in the dark she gave
them; and they fed, or strove to feed,--but small indeed the
portion they devoured.
   ""How's this,'' cried Morna, ""that my little cake grows
ne'er the less? Can it be so that we are truly spirits,--ghosts
of the three maids that overthrew the Danish god last night?
I hunger and I thirst, 'tis true. Tell me, Can spirits drink the
element of water? Certes they may. But then, how did we die,
or when?  for I cannot remember me of passing death's
hideous and dreary bourn, though something of a weary
painful dream hangs round my heart.''
   This vague disjointed speech, the wayward vision of dis-
temperature, struck the two others motionless, and set them
on cogitations wandering and wild as meteors o'er a dreary
wilderness. The thought of being in a new existence, with all
its unknown trials, powers, and limits, their struggling minds
essayed in vain to grasp.
   Reason returned, but as a step-mother returns to frenzied
orphan's dying bed. They felt each other's pulses. There was
life,--corporeal life; but still there was a change, which no
one chose to mention,--yet a change quite unaccountable
for one night's sleep to have effected. From their cavern's
porch they viewed the stars of heaven. They were the same
as they were wont. They saw the golden wain, the polar
plough tilling his ample field with slow unwearied furrow,
and the sisters,--the seven lovely sisters of the sky, arching
their gorgeous path. Far to the east they spied a star beloved,
which in their childhood they oft had watched, and named
the ""tiger's eye,'' changing its vivid colours as of yore. And
then they wept to think of former days of innocence and
joy. And thus in tears, clasped in each other's arms, they laid
them down their mazed and oppressed spirits to compose.
   While thus they lay, romantic Morna said: ""My sisters, it is
evident to all that some great change has happed to us last
night. We are not what we were. What can it be but change
from one existence to another? A mortal creature cannot
touch or feel a disembodied spirit; but we know not how
spirits feel each other. Sure as life and death hold opposition
in this world, from the one into the other we have passed. I
feel it in my being. So do you, though unacknowledged. Let
us rise and walk as spirits do by night, and we shall see the
change in us, not over a whole land in one short night. Come,
let us roam abroad. I feel a restlessness,--a strong desire to
flit from place to place,--perchance to fly between the
mountain and the cloud, and view the abodes of those we
love.''
   This wild romance waked in the virgin's hearts an energy
between despair and madness. All extremes erratic and un-
natural, on the minds of females, act like the infection of
virulent disease. Up they arose, and, stepping from their
cavern, took their way along the river's brink. Midnight was
past. The tiger's eye had climbed the marble path that branches
through the heaven, and goggled forth, now red, now blue,
now purple and now green, down from his splendid ceiling
far on high. 'Twas like a changeful spirit. In the east the hues
of morning rose in towering streaks, as if the Almighty had
caused light to grow like cedars from the summits of the
hills. It was a scene for spirits! There were three abroad that
morn before the twilight rose,--three creatures spiritual, yet
made of flesh! First they espied an aged fisherman, who
passed without regard. Then did they deem they were in-
visible, and wilder still their fancies worked. The suburbs
now they gained of the resplendent ancient Otholine, the
emporium of the east, and hand in hand, with hurried, but
enfeebled step, they trode its lanes and alleys. Those who
saw them said their motions were erratic, like the gait of
beings overcome with wine, or creatures learning to walk for
the first time on earth. The early matron, and the twilight
groom, fled with hysteric cries at their approach. The gates
were left a-jar, the streets a waste: porter and sentineljoined
in the flight, and nought but terror and confusion reigned.
   The virgin sisters wist not what to do, or what to dread.
Within the convent's porch, they halted, turned, and gazed
on one another, and wondered what they were, that nature
thus shuddered at their approach, and held aloof. Three
creatures spiritual yet made of flesh, belonging not to heaven
nor earth! but shunned by the inhabitants of both. Just then,
while standing in despondency, they heard the grey cock
crow; the eldritch clarion note chilled every heart, and
twanged on every nerve.
   ""That is our warning call,'' wild Morna said: ""My sisters
now we must hence and begone: that is the roll-call of the
murdering spirits. We shall be missed at matins. To your
homes! your damp and mouldering homes, ye ghastly shades!
The daylight will dissolve you! Does that voice not say so?''
   ""Hush thee, gentle Morna! drive us not to distraction. Here
we'll wait until the convent matin; then we'll ask the holy
prioress what things we are. What say you, gentle sisters?
can we live outcasts on earth in such incertitude? Our father's
towers are distant. We can glide, like passing shades with
slow and feeble motion, but nothing more;--spirits can sail
the air in skiff of mist or on the breeze's wing. Such powers
we have not; and to journey there we lack ability. Here then
we stay until we are resolved what strange events have
happened to us, to our native land, and church, of late so
grievously oppressed.''
   ""Yes, here we'll stay. Come, rouse the porteress! For see
the sun tips the far hills with gold, and we shall melt before
his tepid rays, all gentle as it is at early morn! My frame is like
a mildew. The hoar frost of death hath fallen on it. Oh, for
the guide--the angelic youth that left us yester-eve. Ho!
daughters of the Cross! If any here hath 'scaped the murderous
Dane, come forth and welcome the conquerors of Odin. Ho!
within! Wake ere the sun upbraids you. He is up, on service
to his Maker, yet you sleep. I say, wake.''
   ""Who calls? What are you there?''
   ""We know not what we are. For that we come, to see if any
here can us resolve. But two short nights ago, we were three
maids of royal lineage. Thou stern porteress, come forth and
look on us. Canst thou not tell what we are made of? Why
stand'st thou aloof?''
   ""Speak calmly, sister Morna. See she trembles and dares
not answer. Gentle dame, we pray admission to your lady
prioress, for sake of him who died upon the cross, whose name
we worship.'' Straight she vanished upon her fearful mission,
glad to 'scape from such a colloquy. Soon then arrived the
aged prioress, who them approached with dauntless counten-
ance, and, unappalled, asked of their errand. ""Venerable
dame, dost thou not know, or hast thou never heard of the
three maids of Stormont, who of late, led by a heavenly
messenger, o'erthrew the god of Denmark, and upheld the
cross triumphant o'er the breasts of prostrate heathens?''
   ""Ay, I have heard of them; and often joined in prayer and
thanksgiving for the deliverance wrought by these royal
virgins. That was a conquest that roused the spirit of the
Christian to deeds of more than mortal energy, and humbled
the proud confidence the Dane placed in his idols. Ay, that
was a conquest shall cloud the brow of the idolater while the
world stands! But what was it you spoke of yester-eve?
Either you are deranged, or shallow poor impostors:  for
that time hath long gone past, and the three wondrous
maids were in the sight, and from the middle of that mighty
host translated into heaven. Unless you came from thence on
sacred mission, and bringest evidence of identity by further
miracle, better you had keep silence and depart.''
   ""We are those maids, the maids of Stormont, nieces to the
king; and we require of you lodging and fair protection, till
we prove our lineage. There is something passing strange hath
happened to us. But what the circumstance, or how accordant
with the works of God, is far beyond the fathom and the
height of our capacity. We are the maids of Stormont. To
that truth we will make oath upon the holy cross.''
   The prioress crossed herself, commended her to heaven,
and, with deep awe and dire astonishment, admitted them.
She gazed upon them: their fair cheeks were pale, and their
benignant eyes looked through a haze that was not earthly;
it was like the blue mists of the dawning. All their robes were
of the fashion of a former day; and they were damp and
mouldy, falling piecemeal from off their bodies with their
rottenness.
   ""I dread to question you, mysterious things. That you are
earthly forms, I see and feel. Whence are you? In what
dreary unknown clime have you been sojourning? Or are
you risen from out your graves? If you have truth in you,
and power to tell it, pray resolve me this; for I am lost in
wonder.''
   ""What we are we know not. For that purpose we came
hither, that you might tell us. All we know is this: Last night
but one we were the maids of Stormont, doomed to a dreadful
fate. An heavenly one came to our rescue; led us through the
gates of iron and of brass. Still as we went, we conquered.
Ranks of proud idolaters fell prostrate in the dust; and the
great god, the mighty Odin, was o'erthrown, and dashed into
a thousand pieces. Straight our blessed guide conducted us
into a lonely cave close by the river's brink, and bade us
sleep and take our rest until the day should dawn and
shadows fly away. We slept, and yester-morn, when we
awoke, the lamp our guide had left still feebly burned. Im-
pelled by hunger, from our cave we ventured. All people fly
from us; the Danes are gone;the name of Christ is mentioned.
Nought we see and nought we hear is comprehensible.''
   ""A miracle! a mighty miracle! Within that secret cavern
you have slept for days and years, in quiet sweet repose, the
lamp of heaven still burning over you, until the day hath
dawned,--such a day of grace as Scotland hath not seen. The
heathen Dane, with all his hideous gods, was vanquished, but
days of darkness and contention rose, until this time, when
all the glorious rays of mercy and of grace have shed their
influence on this benighted persecuted land; and you are
waked to enjoy it. Let us go straight to the altar, and beneath
the cross join in elated thanksgiving.''
   The chancel door opened before the altar. When the three
virgins entered in, and saw the figure on the cross, they cried
aloud with one combined voice, "" 'Tis he, 'Tis he! What? Have
these heathens dared to lay their impious hands on him? 'Tis
he! 'Tis he! Our heavenly guide that saved us from the death.
And have they slain him? Has the cursed Dane ----''
   ""Hold, hold, for mercy's sake; you do not know the
things you utter. What you look upon, hangs there to represent
the death of him who died that man might live.''
   ""And is it so? Then be our lives sacred unto the service of
him who laid his life down for our race, and sent his angel to
deliver us, in his own likeness too; for this is he who came to
us in great extremity, when we called on ths name of our
Redeemer in agony of soul.''
   ""Remain with me till our great festival. This miracle must
be made known to all that trust in Jesus' name. Meanwhile I
will cherish and comfort the beloved of heaven.''
   The day arrived of the great festival, the anniversary of the
overthrow of mighty Odin,--that sublime event that broke
the bands of iron and of steel, and threw the gates of super-
stition open to Albyn's Christian triumph. On that day the
king's whole household, nobles of the realm, high dames and
commons, abbots, monks and mendicants, a motely and a
countless multitude, assembled early at the monastery of
ancient Otholine, to render thanks for their deliverance.
Masses were said; and holy hymns of praise ascended to the
skies. With one accord, then all the grateful multitude agreed
to canonize the three heroic virgins, who, with the aid of
angels, had wrought out the Christian's triumph, the beloved
of heaven, translated to the blest beatitude, where souls of
saints and blessed martyrs dwell, and whose joint prayers
might with the holy Virgin much avail.
  A joyful clamour for the ordinance then spread around, so
eager were the crowd to kneel and pay their humble adora-
tions to the three maids, translated to the heavens with bodies
like their own. Applauses rang; and from behind the altar was
given forth a song divine, in which a thousand voices joined,
till all were hushed at this ecstatic strain.

                Hail to the happy three!
                Vessels of sanctity!
                Now honoured to stand
                At the Virgin's right hand.
                     (Mater Dei!
                     Remember me!)
                Remember us all, and send us for good,
                Bone of our bone, and blood of our blood--
                Song of harp, and voice be dumb-
                The heaven is oped. They come, they come!

  A bustle rose. The abbot on his knees sunk down and
leaned upon the altarcloth, and only a few voices whispered
round, They come, they come!  The congregation turned
their eyes into the chancel, and beheld three virgins, all in
robes of purest white, stand over against the altar. The loud
choir was hushed, and every brow was forward bent in low
obeisance: All believing these three beauteous flowers from
paradise had come arrayed in robes of heaven, with angel
forms that bloomed like winter roses newly oped, in high
approval of the festival, and sacred honours to be paid to
them.
  The virgins beckoned, raised their flowing veils, and their
right hands to heaven. ""Stay,'' they cried, ""stay the solemnity,
ere you profane the name and altar of the God of heaven.
Here stand the three unworthy maids of Stormont whom you
would deify. Come nigh to us our father and our king, and
ye chaste ministers of him we serve: Come nigh, and feel that
we are mortal like yourselves, and stop the rite. Pay adoration
to that Holy One who pitied us in misery extreme, and you
in grievous bonds. There be your vows and worship paid, in
which we three shall join. He hath indeed done wondrous
things for us, works of amazement, which you all shall hear,
and whoso heareth shall rejoice in heart.''
  Then came they all unto their father's knee, kneeled and
embraced him, while the good old earl shed tears of joy, and
rendered thanks to heaven: their sovereign next, their former
lovers, friends, and all they knew in that mixed multitude,
they did embrace, that no remaining doubt might spring and
spread to their identity. It was a joyful meeting, such a one as
hath not been in any land for happiness and holy ecstacy.
They lived beyond the years of women,--but their lives were
spent in acts of holiness, apart from grandeur's train. In curing
of the sick, clothing the naked, ministering to all in want and
wretchedness, and speaking peace unto poor wandering and
benighted souls. Their evening of life was like the close of
summer day, pure, placid, and serene,--the twilight long, but
when at last it closed, it was with such a heavenly glow, it
gave pure prospect of a joyous day to come. Thus ends my
legend; and, with all submission, I bow to your awards, and
wait my doom.
                        CHAPTER XXIII

  <1Garolde.>1 Prick on good Markham. That galled jade of yours
               Moves with a hedgehog's pace. Is this
               To amble llke a belle at tournament,
               When life and death hang on our enterprize?
          <1Mark.>1 We've had long stages, Garolde;
               We must take up. What miscreants have we here?
                                        <1The Prioress>1


""LO, have not I taken great delight in the words of thy
mouth?'' said the friar, ""for it is a legend of purity and holiness
which thou hast told, and the words of truth are contained in
it. Peradventure it may be an ancient allegory of our nation,
in which manner of instruction the fathers of Christianity
amongst us took great delight. But, whether it be truth, or
whether it be fiction, the tendency is good; and behold, is it
not so; do not I even thank thee for thy tale?''
   ""It is the most diffuse, extravagant, and silly legend that
ever was invented by votary of a silly and inconsistent creed,''
said the Master.
   ""I side wi' you, Master Michael Scott,'' said Tam Craik; ""I
think the tale is nought but a string of bombastical nonsense.''
   ""Excepting ane about fat flesh, I think I never heard the
match o't,'' said the laird of the Peatstacknowe; ""It brings me
amind o' our host's dinner, that was a' show but nae
substance.''
   ""If I foresee aught aright,'' said the Master, ""of many a
worse dinner shall I see thee partake, and enjoy the sight.''
   ""Was not that a beautiful and sublime tale, father?'' said
Delany:  ""I could sit and listen to such divine legends for
ever.'' The poet's eyes shone with tears when he heard the
maid he loved say these words to the friar apart, who answered
and said unto her, ""Lo, there are many more sublime and
more wonderful in thy little book; nevertheless the tale is
good for instruction to those that are faithless and doubting.''
  ""Alak! I fear I shall not live to learn and enjoy these. Do
not you think, father, that we shall all perish in this miserable
place,'' added Delany,--""this horrible place of witchcraft and
divination?'' Charlie Scott stepped forward when he over-
heard some of these words. ""Eh? what was the lassie saying?''
said he. ""Eh? I'll tell ye what it is, hinney: I believe ye see
things as they are. There's naething but witchcraft gaun on
here; and it is that, and that alone, that a' our perils and mis-
chances rise frae. Begging your pardon, father, I canna help
thinking what I think, and seeing what I see. But, gude faith!
we maun blaw lown till we win aff the tap o' this bigging, if
that ever be.''
   ""My hand hath prevailed against his hand,'' said the friar,
""and my master over his master; and had it not been for this
miserable accident we should have had nothing to fear from
his divinations, sublime and mighty as they are. What hath
become of the mighty men of valour from the camp of our
captain?''
   ""O there's nae mortal can tell,'' said Charlie: ""It was not
for naething that Dan and his lads ran off and left us without
ever looking ower their shoulders. A' witchcraft! a' witchcraft!
Ane may stand against muckle, but nae man can stand
against that. I wish we were where sword and shield could
aince mair stand us in stead. But this I'm sure o'--Now that
our situation is kend to our kinsman, it winna be lang before
some aid appear. O if it wad but come afore we are driven
to that last and warst of a' shifts to keep in life.''
   ""We canna live another day,'' said Tam:  "" I therefore
propose that the maid and the boy try ilk ane their hand at a
tale too, and stand their chances with the rest of us. Their
lives are of less value, and their bodies very tender and
delicate.''
   Every one protested against Tam's motion with abhorrence;
and it was agreed that they would now appeal to the Master
who had told the worst tale. Not that the unfortunate victim
was to be immediately sacrificed, nor even till the very last
extremity; but with that impatience natural to man, they
longed to be put out of pain; every one having hopes that his
own merits protected himself from danger. Every one also
believed that judgment would be given against Tam, except
he himself; and that, at all events, such an award would put
an end to his disagreeable and endless exultations of voracious
delight. They then went before the renowed wizard, and
desired him to give judgment who of them had related the
worst and most inefficient tale, laying all prejudice with regard
to creeds and testimonies aside.
   He asked them if they referred the matter entirely to him,
or if they wished to have each one a vote of their own? Tam
said it was an understanding at first that each should have a
vote, and, as he had made up his mind on the subject, he
wished to give his. Charlie said it was a hard matter to vote
away the life of a friend; and, for his part, he would rather
appeal to the great Master altogether. But if any doubt should
remain with any one of their host's impartiality, he thought
it fairer that they should cast lots, and hazard all alike. The
poet, who had heard the Master's disapprobation given
pointedly of his tale, sided with Yardbire, and voted that it
should be decided by lot. Gibbie, though quite convinced in
his own mind that he had told the best story, yet having heard
the <1morality>1 of it doubted, and dreading on that score to
have some voices against him, called also for a vote; for he
said the referring the matter to the Master brought him in
mind of the story of the fox sitting in judgment, and deciding
against the lamb. The friar also said, ""Verily, I should give
my voice for the judgment of the Master to stand decisive:
But, lo! is it not apparent that his thoughts are not like the
thoughts of other men? Neither is his mind governed by the
motives of the rest of the children of men. I do therefore
lift up my voice for the judgment that goeth by lot. I would,
notwithstanding of all this, gladly hear what the Master would
say.''
   ""I will be so far just that I shall give you your choice,''
said Master Michael Scott: ""Nevertheless I can tell you, if
there be any justice in the decision by lot, on whom the lot
will fall.'' A pause of breathless anxiety occurred, and every
eye was fixed on the grim and stern visage of the great necro-
mancer, over whose features there appeared to pass a gleam
of wild delight. ""It will fall,'' added he, ""on that man of
fables and similitudes, who himself bears the similitude of a
man, just as the lion's hide stuffed does the resemblance of a
real one. How do you call that beautiful and amiable being
with the nose that would split a drop of rain without being
wet?''
   ""Most illustrious knight, and master of the arts of mystery,''
said the friar,--""as this man is, so is his name; for he is called
Jordan, after the great river that is in the east, which over-
floweth its banks at certain seasons, and falls into the stagnant
lake called the Dead Sea, whose waters are diseased. So doth
the matter of this our friend overflow, pass away, and is lost.
But what sayest thou of the default of his story? Dost thou
remember that it is not for the best story that we cast lots,
but the worst?''
   ""Ay, that's weel said, good friar,'' said Charlie; ""for,
trifling as the laird's story was, I never heard ought sae queer,
or that interested ane mair. If there by ony justice in lots,
the laird's safe.''
  ""Your's was the best tale, gallant yeoman,'' said the Master,
""and you may rest assured that you are safe. The dumb judge
will not err, and there is one overlooks the judgment by lot,
of whom few are aware. I say your's was the best tale.''
  ""Thank ye kindly, Master Michael Scott,'' said Charlie; ""I'm
feared ilk ane winna be o' you opinion.''
    The friar then took from the side-pockets of his frock a
few scraps of parchment, amounting to fifteen. Twelve of
these he marked with a red cross, and three with a black one,
to prevent all infernal interference; then rolling them closely
up, he counted them all into his cowl before his companions,
and, shaking them together, he caused every one to do the
same. Then putting the cowl into the virgin's hand, they
desired her to hold it until they drew forth their scraps one by
one. She did so, while her bright eyes were drowned in tears,
and each of the candidates put in his hand, selecting his lot.
    ""Let them be opened, one by one, before all these wit-
nesses,'' cried the Master; ""that no suspicions of foul play
whatever may remain.''
    The friar drew forth his without one muscle of his un-
yielding features being altered, and turning deliberately about,
he opened it before them all. It was red. The friar bowed his
head, and made the sign of the cross. Charlie thrust in his
hand,--pulled out a ticket,--and tore it open, all in one
moment, and with the same impatience that he fought in a
battle. His was likewise red.
    ""Gude faith I'm aince ower the water,'' said Charlie.
    Tam put in his hand with a decision that would have done
honour to a better man, the form of his mouth only being a
little altered.
    ""Now, who will take me a bet of a three-year old cout,''
cried Gibbie, ""that the next shall turn out a black one?'' and
he grinned a ghastly smile, in anticipation of the wished
event. Tam kept his hand within the cowl for a good while, as
if groping which to select. At length he drew one forth; and
before he got it opened, Gibbie's long nose and his own had
met above it, so eager was each of them to see what it con-
tained. It was opened. Each of them raised up his face, and
looked at the face of his opponent; but with what different
expressions of countenance! The cross on the lot was red!
Grief, dread, and disappointment were all apparent in the
features of poor Jordan, while the exulting looks of his
provoking neighbour were hardly to be endured.
    ""What think you o' that now, laird?'' cried he. ""What does
that bring you in mind o'? Eh? I say, wha's jugular vein
swells highest now; or wha's shoulder-blade stands maist need
o' clawing?''
    This was rather more than Gibbie was disposed at that
juncture to bear; and when Tam, as he concluded, put forth
his forefinger to ascertain the thickness of fat on the laird's
ribs, the latter struck him with such force on the wrist, that
he rendered his arm powerless for a space. He put his hand to
his sword, but could not grasp it; while Gibbie, seeing the
motion, had his out in a twinkling; and if the staunch friar
had not turned it aside, he would have had it through the
heart of the deil's Tam in a second, which might have
prevented the further drawing of lots for that present time,
and thereby put an end to a very critical and disagreeable
business. Gibbie was far from being a hot or passionate man;
but whether his rage was a manoeuvre to put by the decision,
or if he really was offended at being handled like a wedder
for slaughter, the curate pretends not to guess. He however
raged and fumed exceedingly, and tried again and again to
wound Tam, while the rest were remonstrating with him;
nor would he be pacified, until Tam's disabled arm by degrees
regaining somewhat of its pristine nerve, he retreated back
towards the battlement for sword-room, and dared the laird
to the combat. Gibbie struggled hard; but finding that they
were about to let him go, his wrath subsided a little; he put
up his sword, and said the whole business reminded him of a
story of the laird of Tweelsdon and his two brothers, which
he assured them was a prime story, and begged permission to
tell it. This was protested against with one voice until the
business of the lots was decided, and then all were willing to
hear it. ""Oh, the lots? that is quite true,'' said Gibbie: ""I
declare that business had gone out of my head. Let us see
what casts up next.'' There was a relaxation in every muscle
of Gibbie's face as he put his hand into the cowl. But Gibbie's
was a sort of a cross face. It did not grow long and sallow as
most other men's faces do when they are agitated. The jaws
did not fall down, they closed up; so that his face grew a
great deal shorter and broader. The eye-brows and the cheek-
bones met, and the nose and chin approached to a close
vicinity. He drew forth the momentous scrap, and, with
fumbling and paralytic hand, opened it before them. The
cross was black. He dared not lift his eyes to any face there
save to Delany's, and when he saw it covered with tears his
looks again reverted that way. This lot it is true was not
decisive, yet it placed Gibbie on ticklish ground; it having been
agreed, that whoever should draw the two first black crosses,
subjected himself to immolation, if the necessity of the case
required it. The great Master and Tam were visibly well
pleased with the wicked chance that had fallen to the laird.
The motives of the former for this delight were quite a
mystery to those who beheld it; as for Tam, he seemed deter-
mined to keep no more terms with poor Gibbie.
The poet also drew a red one; and then it was decreed, that
the next round Gibbie should have his choice of the time, if
he judged it any advantage either to be first or last. He
seemed quite passive, and said it was all one to him, he should
draw at any time they chose, and desired his friend Yard-
bire, as he termed him, to choose for him. Charlie said he
deemed the first chance the best, as he had then four chances
to be right, for one of being wrong; and it would be singular
indeed if his hand fixed on a black cross again for a time or
two, when more of them might be on an equal footing.
   Gibbie accordingly turned round, and drew out one more
of the ominous scraps, opening it under the eyes of all the
circle with rather a hopeful look. ""If the deil be nae in the
cowl, I shall hae a red ane this time,'' said he, as he unrolled
it; but as soon as the head of the cross appeared the ticket
fell from his hand; and, as the friar expressed it, there was no
more strength remaining in him. ""Verily, my son, thy fate is
decided,'' said the latter worthy; ""and that in a wonderful and
arbitrary manner. As the Master said, so hath it come to pass,
although to judge of any thing having been done unfairly
is impossible.''
   ""It is absolute nonsense to talk of aught being done fairly
in this place,'' said Charlie Scott; ""There's naething but
witchcraft gaun. I tell ye a' things here are done by witchery
an' the black arts; and after what I heard the king of a' war-
locks say,that the lot wad fa' in this way,I winna believe that
honest Gibbie has gotten fair play for his life.''
   ""If you would try it an hundred times over,'' said the
Master, ""you would see it turn out in the same way. Did not
I say to you that there was a power presided over the decision
by lot, which you neither know nor comprehend. Man of
metaphors and old wives' fables, where art thou now?''
""Keep a gude heart, Peatstacknowe,'' said Charlie; ""perhaps
things may not come to the worst. I have great dependence
on Dan Chisholm and the warden's good men. I wonder they
have not appeared wi' proper mattocks, or ladders, by this
time o' the morning.''
   ""If they should,'' said the Master, ""and if we were all set
at liberty this minute, he shall remain my bondsman, in place
of these two and him of whom your arts have bereaved me.
Remember to what you agreed formerly, of which I now
remind you.''
   ""I think that is but fair,'' said the poet.
   ""I do not know, gentlemen, what you call fair or foul,''
said Gibbie: ""I think there is little that is favourable going
for somebody. Of the two evils, I judge the last the worst. I
appeal to my captain the Warden.'' Gibbie's looks were so
rueful and pitiable when he said this, that no one had the
heart to remonstrate farther with him on the justice or in-
justice of his doom. The Master and Tam enjoyed his plight
exceedingly; the poet rejoiced in it, as it tended to free
Delany from a vile servitude; and the friar also was glad of the
release of the darling of his younger years, the grand-daughter
of Galli the scribe. Charlie and Delany were the only two
that appeared to suffer on account of the laird's dismal
prospects, and their feelings were nearly as acute as his own.
Stories and all sorts of amusements were now discontinued. A
damp, was thrown over these by the dismal gloom on the
laird s countenance, and the congenial feelings of others on
his account. The night had passed over without any more
visitants from the infernal regions; the day had arisen in the
midst of heaviness and gloom; and every eye was turned to-
wards the mill, in the expectation of seeing the approach of
Dan and his companions.
                        CHAPTER XXIV

                   Ask me not whence I am;
               My vesture speaks mine office.
                               <1Female Parlimenters, a MS. Com.>1

AFTER the frightsome encounter at the mill, with ""the
masterless dog and his bow-wow-wow,'' Dan and his com-
panions spent a sleepless night, not without several alarms
and breathless listenings on the occurrence of any noise
without.  Few were the nightly journies on the banks of
the Ettrick in those days, and few the midnight noises that
occurred, save from the wild beasts of the forest. There were
no wooer lads straying at that still and silent hour, to call up
their sweethearts for an hour's kind conversation. Save when
the English marauders were abroad, all was quietness by
hamlet and steading. The land was the abode of the genii of
the woods, the rocks, and the rivers; and of this the inhabitants
were well aware, and kept within locked doors, whose lintels
were made of the mountain ash, and nightly sprinkled with
holy water. Cradle and bed were also fenced with cross, book,
and bead; for the inmates knew that in no other way could
they be safe, or rest in peace. They knew that their green and
solitary glens were the nightly haunts of the fairies, and that
they held their sports and amorous revels in the retiring dells
by the light of the moon. The mermaid sung her sweet and
alluring strains by the shores of the mountain lake, and the
kelpie sat moping and dripping by his frightsome pool, or the
boiling caldron at the foot of the cataract. The fleeting wraiths
hovered round the dwellings of those who were soon to die,
and the stalking ghost perambulated the walks of him that
was lately living, or took up his nightly stand over the bones
of the unhouseholded or murdered dead. In such a country,
and among such sojourners, who durst walk by night?
   But these were the natural residenters in the wilds of the
woodland, the aboriginal inhabitants of the country; and how-
ever inimical their ways might be to the ways of men, the
latter laid their account with them. There were defences to
be had against them from holy church, which was a great
comfort. But ever since Master Michael Scott came from the
colleges abroad to reside at the castle of Aikwood, the nature
of demonology in the forest glades was altogether changed,
and a full torrent of necromancy, or, as Charlie Scott better
expressed it, of <1witchcraft,>1 deluged the country all over,--an
art of the most malignant and appalling kind, against which
no fence yet descovered could prevail.  How different, indeed,
became the situation of the lonely hind.  Formerly he only
heard at a distance on moonlight eves the bridle bells of the
fairy troopers, which haply caused him to haste homeward.
But when the door was barred and fenced, he sat safe in the
middle of his family circle as they closed round the hearth,
and talked of the pranks of <1the gude neyboris>1.  When the
speats descended, and floods roared and foamed from bank
to brae, then would they perceive the malevolent kelpie
rolling and tumbling down the torret like a drowning cow,
or mountain stag, to allure the hungry peasant into into certain
destriction.  But, aware of the danger, he only kept the
farther aloof, quaking at the tremendous experiment made
by the spirit of the waters.  It was in vain that the mer-
maid sung the sweetest strains that ever breathed over
the eveing lake, or sunk and rose again, spreading her hands
for assistance, like a drowning maiden, at the bottom of the
abrupt cliff washed by the waves,--he <1would not>1 be allured
to her embraces.
  But what could he do now?  His daughters were turned
into roes and hares, to be hunted down for sport to the
Master.  The old wives of the hamlet were saddled and bridled
by night, and urged with whip and spur over whole realms.
The cows were deprived of their milk,--the hinds cast their
young, and no domestic cat in the whole district could be
kept alive for one year.  That infernal system of witchcraft
then began, which the stake and the gibbet could scarcely
eradicate in a whole century.  It had at this time begun to
spread all around Aikwood; but of these things our Border
troopers were not altogether aware.  They dreaded the spirits
of the old school, the devil in particular; but of the new pre-
vailing system of metamorphoses they had no comprehension.
  Dan and three chosen companions, mounting their horses
by the break of day, rode straight for the abbey of Melrose,
to lodge their complaint against the great enemy of man-
kind, and request assistance from the holy fathers in rescuing
their friends out of his hands.  They reached Darnick-burn
before the rising of the sun; and just as they passed by a
small deep-wooded dell, they espied four forsemen approach-
ing them, who, from their robes and riding appurtenances,
appeared to belong to the abbey, and to rank high among its
dignitaries.  They were all mounted on black steeds, clothed
in dark flowing robes that were fringed with with costly fringes,
and they had caps on their heads that were horned like the
new moon.  The formost, in particular, had a formidable
and majestic mitre on his head, that seemed all glancing with
gems, every one of which was either black, or a certain
dazzling red of the colour of flame.
   Dan doffed his helmet to this dignified and commanding
personage, but he deigned not either to return our yeoman's
low bow, that brought his face in contact with the mane of
his steed, or once to cross his hand on his brow in token of
accepting the submission proffered. He, however, reined up
his black steed, and sat upright on his saddle, as if in the act
of listening what this bold and blunt trooper had to say.
   ""Begging pardon of your grand and sublime reverence,''
said Dan, ""I presume, from your lofty and priest-like de-
meanour, habiliments, and goodly steed, and also from that
twa-horned helmet on your head, that you are the very chap
I want. I beg your pardon I canna keep up my style to suit
your dignity. But are nae ye Father Lawrence, the great
primate, that acts as a kind o' king or captain ower a' the
holy men of Scotland, and has haudding in that abbey down
by there?''
   ""Certes I am Father Lawrence. Dost thou doubt it?''
   ""No, no; what for should I doubt it when your worship
has said it? An we dinna find truth aneath the mitre and the
gown, where are we to look for it?''
   The sublime abbot shook his head as if in scorn and
derision of the apothegm, and sat still upright on his steed,
with his face turned away. Dan looked round to his com-
panions with a meaning look, as much as to say, ""What does
the body mean?'' But seeing that he sat still in the act of
listening, he proceeded.
   ""Worthy Sir Priest, ye ken our captain, Sir Ringan
Redhough, warden of the Border. He has helpit weel to
feather your nest, ye ken.''
   ""He has. There is no one can dispute it,'' said the abbot,
nodding assent.
   ""Then ye'll no be averse, surely, to the lending o' him and
his a helping hand in your ain way.''
   The priest nodded assent.
   ""Weel, ye see, Sir Priest, there is a kinsman of our master's
lives up by here at Aikwood, a rank warlock, and master o'
the arts of witchcraft and divination. He is in compact wi'
the deil, and can do things far ayont the power o' mortal man.
What do ye think, Sir Priest? he can actually turn a man into
a dog, and an auld wife into a hare; a mouse into a man, and
a cat into a good glyde-aver. And mair than that, Sir, he can
raise storms and tempests in the air; can gar the rivers rin
upward, and the trees grow down. He can shake the solid
yird; and, look ye, Sir, he can cleave a great mountain into
three, and life the divisions up like as mony gowpens o' sand.''
   The stern abbot gave a glance up to the three new hills of
Eildon, that towered majestically over their heads; but it
seemed rather a look of exultation than one either of wonder
or regret.
   ""Weel, Sir, disna our captain send a few chosen friends,
a wheen queer devils to be sure, on a message of good friend-
ship to this auld warlock Master Michael Scott, merely with a
request to read him some trivial weird. And what does the
auld knave, but pricks them a' up on the top o' his castle, wi'
a lockit iron-door aneath them, and there has keepit them in
confinement till they are famishing of hunger, and I fear by
this time they are feeding on ane another. And the warst o't
ava, Sir, is this, I wad break his bolts and his bars to atoms
for him, but has nae he the deil standing sentry on the stair,
spuing fire and brimstone on a' that come near him in sic
torrents that it is like the fa' o' the Grey-mare's-tail. Now,
maist reverend and worthy Sir, my errand and request to you
is, that, for my master's sake, and for his men's sake, that are a'
good Christians, for ought that I ken to the contrary, you will
lend us a lift wi' book and bead, Ave Marias, and other
powerful things, to drive away this auld sneckdrawing thief,
the devil, and keep him away till I get my friends released;
and I promise you, in my master's name, high bounty and
reward.''
   ""Ha! is it so?'' said the abbot, in a hollow, tremulous
voice. ""Are my friend and fellow-soldier's men detained in
that guise? Come, my brethren, let us ride,--let us fly to their
release, and we shall see whose power can stand against our
own. For Aikwood, ho!''
   ""For Aikwood, ho!'' shouted Dan and his companions, as
they took the rear of the four sable dignitaries; and striking
the spurs into their steeds all at the same time, they went off
at their horses' utmost speed, hut in a short time the four
yeomen were distanced. The black steeds and their riders
went at such a pace as warrior had never before witnessed.
Up by the side of Hindly-burn they sped, with the most rapid
velocity,--over mire, over ditch, over ford, without stay or
stumble. Dan and his companions posted on behind, sparing
neither whip nor spur, for they were affronted that these
gownsmen should display more energy in their master's cause,
and the cause of his friends, than they should do themselves.
But their horses floundered, and blew, and snorted, and
puffed, and whisked their tails with a whistling sound, and
still lagged farther and farther behind.
   ""Come, come, callants,'' cried Dan to his companions,
""let us rein up. These bedesmen's horses are ower weel fed
for our bog-trotting nags. They fly like the wind. Od, we may
as weel try to ride wi' the devil.''
   ""Whisht, whisht,'' said Will Martin; ""I dinna like to mak
ower familiar wi' that name now-a-days. We never ken wha's
hearing us in this country.''
   They were nigh to the heights when these words passed,
and the four black horsemen perceiving them to take it
leisurely, they paused and wheeled about, and the majestic
primate taking off his cornuted chaperon, waved it aloft, and
called aloud, ""For shame, sluggish hinds! Why won't you
speed, before the hour of prevention is lost? For Aikwood, ho,
I say!'' As he said these words, his black courser plunged and
reared at a fearful rate; and, as out troopers thought, at one
bolt sprung six or seven yards from the ground. The marks of
that black horse's hoofs remain impressed in the sward to
this day, and the spot is still called <1The Abbot's lee.>1 At
least it had been so called when Isaac the curate wrote this
history.
   To keep clear of the wood that was full of thickets, they
turned a little to the left, and pursued their course; and the
ground becoming somewhat firmer, our yeomen pursued
hard after them. But on coming over the steep brow of a
little hill, the latter perceived a mountain lake of considerable
extent that interrupted their path, and, to their utter astonish-
ment, the four black horsemen going straight across it, at
about the same rate that the eagle traverses the firmament.
""The loch is frozen and bears over,'' said Dan: ""Let us follow
them across.
   ""The loch is frozen indeed,'' said Will Martin, ""but, ony
man may see, that ice winna bear a cat.''
   ""Haud your tongue, you gouk,'' said Dan: ""Do ye think
the thing that bore them winna bear us?'' And as he spurred
foremost down the steep, he took the lake at the broad side;
but the ice offering no manner of resistance, horse and man
were in one moment out of sight. The sable horsemen on the
other side shouted with laughter, and called aloud to the
troopers, ""to venture on, and haste forward, for the ice was
sufficiently strong.''
   The bold trooper and his horse were extricated with some
difficulty, and the monks testifying the utmost impatience
he remounted, dripping as he was, and not being able to find
the passage across the lake on the ice, he and his companions
gallopped around the head of it. As he rode, the morning
being frosty, he chanced to utter these words: ""Heigh-ho,
but I be a <1cauld cheil!''>1 Which words, says Isaac, gave the
name to that lake, and the hill about it to all future ages; and
from those perilous days of witchcraft and divination, and
the shocking incidents that befel to men, adds he, have a great
many of the names of places all over our country had their
origin.
    The dark horsemen always paused until the troopers were
near them, as if to encourage them on, but they never
suffered them to join company. When they came over a ridge
above old Lindean they were hard upon them, but lost sight
of them for a short space on the height; and, coming on full
speed, they arrived on the brink of a deep wooded dell, and to
their utter astonishment saw the four gownsmen on the other
side, riding deliberately along, and beckoning them forward.
    ""I am sair mista'en,'' said Will Marton, ""gin thae chaps hae
nae gaen ower the cleugh at ae bound. An it warna for their
habits I wad take them for something nouther good nor
cannie.''
    ""Haud your tongue, or else speak feasible things,'' said
Dan; ""Can the worthy Father Lawrence, and his chief priors
and functionaries ever be suspected as warlocks, or men con-
nected wi' the devil and his arts? If sic were to be the case, we
hae nae mair trust to put in aught on this earth. The dell
maun be but a step across. Here is a good passable road; come,
let us follow them.''
    Dan led the way, and they dived into the dell by a narrow
track, rather like a path for a wild goat than men and horses;
however, by leaping, sliding, and pushing one another's horses
behind, they got to the bottom of the precipice, and perceiving
a path on the other side, they expected to reach the western
brink immediately. But in this they were mistaken; abrupt
rocks, and impenetrable thickets barred their progress on
every side, and they found it impossible to extricate them-
selves without leaving their horses. They tried every quarter
with the same success, and at the last attempted to ascend by
the way they came; but that too they found impracticable,
and all the while they heard the voices of their fellow travellers
chiding their stay from above, and shaming them for their
stupidity in taking the wrong path. At one time they heard
them calling on them to come this way, here was an excellent
outgate; and when the toiled yeomen stuck fairly still in that
direction, they instantly heard other voices urging them to
ascend by some other quarter. At other times they thought
they heard restrained bursts of giggling laughter. After a great
deal of exertion to no manner of purpose, they grew they
neither knew what to do nor what they were doing, and at last
were obliged to abandon their horses, and climb the ascent by
hanging by the bushes and roots of trees. When they emerged
from the deep hollow, they perceived eight black horsemen a-
waiting them instead of four; but as the country around
Melrose and Dryburgh swarmed with members of the holy
brotherhood of every distinction and rank, the troopers took
no notice of it, thinking these were some of the head function-
aries come to wait on their abbot. The latter chided our yeo-
men in sharp and resentful language for their utter stupidity in
taking the wrong path, and regretted exceedingly the long delay
their mistake had occasioned, his time he said being limited,
as was also the time that his power prevailed in a more partic-
ular way over the powers of darkness. ""For us to go alone,''
added he, ""would signify nothing. The manual labour of
breaking through the iron gates we cannot perform; therefore,
unless you can keep up with us, we may return home by the
way we came.''
   ""I am truly grieved,'' said Dan, ""at our misfortune. We
have certainly been more forward than wise, and I fear have
marred the fairest chance we will ever have for the deliverance
of our friends. But I have a few fellow warriors at the mill
who will accompany you for a word of your mouth. I beg
that you will not think of returning, for the case brooks no
delay. We have lost our horses, and can hardly reach the castle
on foot before it be evening. I wot not what we shall do.''
   ""Brethren, I am afraid I must request of you to lend these
brave troopers your horses,'' said the abbot to the four last
comers. ""My esteem for the doughty champion of my domains
is such, that I would gladly do him a favour.'' ""O thank you,
thank you, kind sir; we are mair behadden to you than tongue
can tell,'' said Dan. The four new come brethren dismounted
at their abbot's request; and, without taking a moment to
hesitate, the four yeomen mounted their horses. The abbot
Lawrence charged them to urge the steeds to their utmost
speed. Away went the abbot and his three sable attendants,
and away went the four troopers after them; but from the
first moment that they started the latter lost sight of the
ground, unless it was, as they thought, about a mile below
their feet. The road seemed to be all one marble pavement,
or sheet of solid alabaster; there was neither height nor hollow
in it that they could distinguish; but the fire flew from the
heels of the horses, and sparkled across the firmament like
thousands of flying stars. The velocity at which they went
was such, that the borderers could not draw their breath save
by small broken gulps;but as they imagined they rode at such
an immense distance from the ground, they kept firm by their
seats for bare life, leaning forward with their eyes and their
mouths wide open. Having never in all their lives rode on
such a path, they were soon convinced that they could not
be riding toward Aikwood, around which the roads were
very different. They often attempted to speak to one another,
but could not utter any thing farther than one short sound,
for the swiftness with which they clove the atmosphere cut
their voices short. At length Dan, perceiving his comrade,
Will Martin, scouring close by his side, forced out the following
sentence piecemeal:
   ""Where--the--devil--are we--gaun--now?''
   ""Straight--to--hell.--What--need--ye--speer?''
   ""The--lord--for--for--for--bid--Will Martin,'' was the reply,
which has since grown to a proverb.
   On they flew, over hill, over dale, over rock and river, over
town, tower, and steeple, as our yeomen deemed; but they
might deem what they pleased, for they saw nothing except
now and then the tails of the churchmen's gowns flapping in
the air before them. However, they came to their goal sooner
than they expected, and that in a way as singular as that by
which they reached it.
   The miller at Aikwood-mill had a whole hill of kiln-seeds,
or shealings of oats, thrown out in a heap adjoining to the
mill. Ere ever our yeomen knew what they were doing from
the time they mounted, they were all lying in this immense
heap of kiln-seeds, perfectly dizzy and dumfoundered, and
setting up their heads from among them with the same sort
of staring stupid attempt at consideration as the heads of so
many frogs which may be seen newly popped up out of a
marsh. The bedesmen were a-head of them to the end of the
course, and drew up by wheeling their horses round the kiln
as if it had been a winning-post; but the yeomen's horses, in
making the wheel, threw their riders, one by one, with a jerk
over head and ears among the loose heap of seeds, and
galloping off around the corner of the hill, they never saw
another hair of their tails.
   The miller came running out from his mill with his broad
dusty bonnet; the smoky half-roasted kiln-man out from his
logie; the mill-maidens came skipping from the meal-trough,
as white as lilies; the rest of the warden's men, and the four
sable dignitaries of the church came also, and all of them
stood in a ring round our dismounted troops, some asking
one question, some another, but all in loud fits of laughter.
Their wits could not be rallied in an instant; and all that they
could do or say was to blow the seeds out of their mouths,
with which they were literally filled, and utter some indefinite
sentences, such as, ""Rather briskish yauds these same!'' ""May
the like o' mine never be crossed by man again!'' ""Hech!
but they are the gear for the lang road!'' ""What's become o'
them? I wad like to take a right look o' them for aince.'' ""Do
ye want to look if they have mark o' mouth, Will? You may
look at some o' these that came foremost then. Yours are aff
wi' their tails on their rigging; there are some cheated if ever
you see mair o' them.'' Will Martin looked at the abbot's
horse; but when he saw the glance of his eye, he would not
have taken him by the jaws to have looked his mouth for all
Christendom.
   The four sable horsemen led the way, and all the yeomen
followed on foot, bearing with them such mattocks as they
had been able to procure about Selkirk that morning, and
away they marched in a body to Aikwood castle. That was
a blyth sight to our forlorn and starving prisoners; even
Gibbie had some hopes of a release: but when-ever Master
Michael Scott got a near view of the four sable equestrians,
he sunk into profound and gloomy silence, and every now
and then his whole frame was observed to give a certain con-
vulsed shake, or shudder, which cannot be described. The
rest of the sufferers supposed it to proceed from his rooted
aversion to holy and devout men; but they were so intent on
regaining their own liberty that they paid little attention to
the manner in which he was affected. Father Lawrence bade
the men proceed to work, and he would retire into an inner
chamber and exercise himself so as to keep from them all
sorts of interruption from spirits of whatever denomination,
and he pledged himself for their protection. They thanked
him, and hasted to execute their design; nor were they long
in accomplishing it. By the help of huge scaling hammers they
broke down a part of the narrow stair-case, and actually set
their friends at liberty. But the abbot enjoined them in nowise
to depart, or to do any thing contrary to the desire of the
mighty Master, while they remained in his premises, else he
could not answer for the consequences. This our yeomen
readily assented to, and undertook to prevail with their
friends to acquiesce in the same measure.
  As soon as the iron-door was forced, the abbot Lawrence
sent one of his officers to desire Master Michael Scott to
come and speak to him privately in the secret chamber. The
wizard looked at the messenger as a sovereign does to a
minister of whom he is afraid, or a master to a slave, who, he
knows, would assassinate him if he could; nevertheless he
rose and followed him to his superior. What passed between
these two dignified characters it is needless here to relate, as
the substance of the matter will appear in the sequel. But the
Master returned into the great hall, where the warden's men
were by that time all assembled, an altered man indeed. His
countenance glanced with a sublime but infernal exultation.
His eye shone with ten times the vigour of youthful animation.
It was like a dying flame relumined, that flashes with more
than pristine brightness; and the tones of his voice were like
those of a conqueror on the field of battle. With this voice,
and with this mien, he ordered the friar and his ward Delany
instantly to quit the castle; and if an hour hence they were
found on his domains, he would cause them to be hewed into
so many pieces as there were hairs on their heads.
    ""Lo thy threats are unto me as the east wind,'' said the
friar:  ""Yea as the wind that cometh from the desert, and
puffeth up the vapours on the stagnant pools of water. If my
companions in adversity go, then will I also go along with
them. But if they remain, by the life of Pharaoh, so likewise
will thy servant; and what hast thou more to say, thou man
of Belial?''
    The Master shook his grey locks and his dark silvery beard
in derision; and Charlie Scott, whose confidence in his friend
the friar was now unbounded, stepped up to back what he had
said, and to protest against parting company. Dan, however,
interfered hastily, and told them he was bound by a promise
to the holy father, who had wrought their liberty, to do
nothing adverse to the will of the Master, while they remained
in his castle and on his domains; and therefore he begged they
would comply without more words, and without delay. The
friar then consented, much against Charlie's inclination; and
taking Delany by the hand, he said: ""Lo I will even depart;
but I will remain at the ford of Howden-burn until my friends
arrive, for then am I from off the territory of this blasphemer
and worker of all manner of iniquity. See that you tarry not
at the wine, neither let your eyes behold strange women, that
it may be well with you.'' So the two went away, and did as
they had said. The friar found his mule in good keeping, and
he remained with the maid in a cottage at the fords of
Howden-burn, to await the issue of this singular and un-
fortunate embassy.
    ""Now shall I have my will, and do that which seems meet
to me,'' said the Master, as he strode the hall with unrestrained
energy. ""Did the dolt imagine he could, with his tricks of
legerdemain, outdo me in the powers and mysteries of my
art? No, that man is unborn! Let him go with his crosiers and
his breviaries; I am Michael Scott once again!''
    ""It is needless to say ought here,'' said Charlie Scott aside
to his companions: ""Fock should ken weel what they say, and
where they are saying it. But the truth is, that the friar was
the greatest man o' the twa; and that auld birkie was right
sair cowed in his presence. It is sair against my will that we
hae been obliged, by your promise, Dan, to part wi' the
gospel friar; for, d'ye ken, I feel amaist as the buckler were
ta'en aff my arm, to want him as lang as I am here. What do
you think the carl did, Dan? Come here, you and Will, and
I'll tell you. When we came here, ye see, the master had a
steward, a perfect hound o' hell, wha thought to guide us
waur than dogs; and he crossed the friar unco sair, till at
length he lost a' patience wi' him, and, lord sauf us! sent him
up through the clouds in a flash o' fire; and there has never
been mair o' him seen, but some wee bits o' fragments. I can
tell you the loss o' sic a man as the friar, out o' sic a place as
this, is a loss no easily made up.''
   ""Have a little patience, brave Yardbire,'' said Dan: ""We
have the great and the grave abbot Lawrence in his place. He
is our firm friend and our captain's friend, and every thing
will now be settled in the most amicable manner.''--""That
holy father and his assistants are the only hope I hae,''
returned Charlie; ""An it warna for their presence, I wadna
stay another half hour in sic a place as this. Ye little ken what
scenes we ha'e witnessed during the days and nights that we
ha'e been here. However, as I had the charge of the embassage,
I will gang and speak to the auld billy. He seems to be in a
high key. Master Michael Scott; ye ken that yoursel' and our
auld friar, by your trials o' skill in your terrible arts o'
witchcraft, brought about an accident that has kept us ower
lang here, to the great trouble and inconveniency of our
captain, your own brave kinsman. Now, since we are a' at
liberty again, we beseech you to give us our answer; and if
you canna read the weird that he desires of you, why tell us
sae at aince, and let us gang about our business.''
  ""Gallant yeoman, your request shall be granted without
loss of time,'' said the Master. ""But it is the venerable father's
request that I should regale my kinsman's people before
dismissing them, to make some small return for the privations
they have suffered. Be satisfied then to remain for a few
hours, till you taste of my cheer; and in the meanwhile I will
look into the book of fate, and not only tell you what your
captain, Sir Ringan, ought to do, but I will show you demon-
stratively what he <1must>1 do, if he would succeed in raising his
name and his house above that of every Scottish baron.''
""Thank ye, noble sir,'' said Charlie: ""There shall never be
another word about it. If we gain our errand sae satisfactorily
at last, I'll count a' that we ha'e bidden weel wared.''
   ""Noble and worthy Sir, you never yet have said who told
the most efficient tale, and unto whom the maiden should
belong,'' said the poet.
   "" 'Twas he, your captain there, who said the tale I most
approved, and to him I award my right in the toy, the trifle
you call maiden,'' returned the Master. ""And it is well re-
membered, squire; amongst you, you deprived me of my
steward, a man that could have accomplished a great deal,--
I therefore claim this worthy in his stead, as agreed; and glad
may he be that he escapes so well.''
   ""I fear I will be a bad cook, and an awkward valet,'' said
Gibbie. ""I was never very handy at ought that way. Tam wad
answer a great deal better, an it were your will.''
   ""We will have you taught practically, and to profit,'' said
the Master: ""The three brethren, attendants on father Law-
rence, shall take you to task this instant. They will act as your
assistants and masters to-day, and to their hands I recommend
you. Be expert, and spare no cost.'' So saying, he gave three
tramps with his heel, as he was wont to do in time past, and
instantly the three sable monks stood before him. ""Take that
comely youth,'' said he, ""and bestow on him a few cogent
lessons in the mysteries of the culinary art. You may teach
him a few <1varieties.''>1 As he said this, there was a malignant
smile rather darkened than lighted up his stern features, and
on the instant the three monks had Gibbie from the ground;
and one holding by each arm and another by both his feet,
they rushed out of the hall with him, in the same way that
one drives a wheelbarrow. When the men of the embassy
heard the three tramps, and the words about the varieties,
they looked at one another with rather uneasy sensations.
But the presence of father Lawrence, and the other three
holy brethren, encouraged them still to acquiesce in the
Master's request.
   A short time after this, as they were sauntering about the
castle, they heard some loud giggling laughter, intermixed
with squeaking cries of despair; which last they could well
distinguish as proceeding from the lungs of poor Gibbie
Jordan; and immediately after that there came among them
a huge red capon, fluttering and screaming in a most desperate
and deplorable manner, and all the three monks pursuing him
with shouts of delight. The feathers were half plucked off
him, and his breath quite spent, so that they easily laid hold
of him, and carried him away by the neck to have him
spitted living, as they said. Our yeomen saw nothing but an
overgrown bird, but they heard well that the voice was the
voice of Jordan.  ""These monks are trifling and amusing
themselves,'' said Tam; ""we shall get no dinner before night.''
   The words were hardly well said when the castle bell rung,
and in they all rushed to the great hall where stood a plentiful
dinner smoking along the board, and the abbot and the Master
both seated at the upper end, side by side. Our yeomen
thought it extraordinary to see the great warlock and the
reverend father in such close compact, but they held their
peace. The abbot rose and pronounced a blessing on the food,
but it was in an unknown tongue, and little did they wot of
its purport. There was great variety on the table of every
kind of food, yet there was not one of our yeomen knew of
what the greater part of the dishes consisted. But the huge
capon stood at the head of the table, and though he had been
killed and cooked in a few minutes, the bird looked exceedingly
well. The abbot and the Master devoured him with so much
zest, that no one liked to call for a piece of him, save Tam
Craik, who ate a wing of him; but there was no broad bone
in his shoulder, yet Tam declared him the first meat he had
ever tasted, save once, in his life. Charlie was placed next the
Master, and Dan next the abbot Lawrence. The three monks,
attendants on the latter, served the table, but nothing of the
new steward made his appearance. The wine and other strong
liquors were served round in great abundance, and the quality
was so excellent, that, notwithstanding of the friar's charge,
every one drank liberally, and soon got into high glee. When-
ever the supreme and haughty abbot swallowed a cup of
wine, Dan, who sat next him, heard always a hissing sound
within his breast, as if one had been pouring water on red hot
iron. This startled the trooper terribly for two or three times
at first, but his surprise lessened and wore off by degrees as
the liquor continued to exalt his spirits. The feast went on,
and the wine flowed; but, as on a former occasion, the men
ate without being satisfied. The wines and liquor were all
however real, and had their due effect, so that the spirit of
hilarity rose to a great height.
   It was observed that father Lawrence conversed with no
one but the Master, and the dialogue they held was all in an
unknown tongue, in which tongue also, they sometimes
conferred with the servitors. The Master left the table three
several times, for he had a charm going on in another part of
the castle, and at the third time returned with the black book
of fate, the book of the destinies of men, below his arm, and
laid it closed on the table before him.
   ""Now, my brave and warlike guests,'' said he, ""Before I
open this awful book, it is meet that every one of you be
blindfolded. I ask this for your own sakes. If any one of you
were to look but on one character of this book, his brain
would be seared to a cinder, his eyes would fly out of their
sockets, and perhaps his whole frame might be changed into
something unspeakable and monstrous.''
   ""Gude faith, sir Master, I'll haud my een as close as they
were sewed up wi' an elshin and a lingel,'' said Charlie. So
said they all, but they were not trusted; the monks were
ordered to go round the table and tie every one's eyes closely
up; and when this was done, they were desired to lay their
heads down upon their hands on the board, and to sit without
moving, whatever they might hear. He then proceeded to
open the massy iron clasps, and as soon as they were un-
loosed, three spirits burst from the book with loud shrieks,
and escaped through the barbican. The yells were so piercing
that some of our yeomen started from their seats, but dared
not lift their heads. ""Ah! They are gone,'' said the Master:
""This weird will cost me dear!''
    ""Fear nothing, but proceed,'' said father Lawrence.
  He opened the book, and three peals of thunder ensued
that shook the castle to its foundations, every one of them
louder than the last; and though our yeomen sat trembling
in utter darkness, they heard voices around them as if the
hall had been crowded full of people; among others, they
deemed that they could distinguish the voices of the warden
and his lady. They, however, sat still as if chained to their
places, awaiting the issue; and, after much noise and apparent
interruptions, the great Master read out as follows:

                  ""He for whom this weird is read,
                  Be he son of battle bred,
                  Be he baron born to peril,
                  Be he lord, or be he earl,
                  Let him trust his gallant kin,
                  And the sword below the skin.
                  When the red buck quits the cover,
                  When the midnight watch is over,
                  Then, whatever may betide,
                  Trust the horn, and trust the hide,
                  He that drives shall feel the gin,
                  But he that's driven shall get in.
                  All for whom this weird is read,
                  For the living, for the dead,
                  From the chief with corslet shorn,
                  To the babe that is unborn,
                  Let them to the sceptre lean,
                  Till the place where they have been
                  See their sway expand untroubled,
                  Doubled, doubled, nine times doubled;
                  First to rise and rule the rings,
                  Mixed with blood of mighty kings.
                  This is read for princes, peers,
                  And children of a thousand years;
                  Now begins their puissant story;
                  Strike the blow and gain the glory.
                  Rise not against feudal union,
                  No advance but in communion,
                  Though through battle, broil, and murther,-
                  Shut the book, and read no further.''

   The book was closed, and loud shouts of applause, as from
a great multitude, were heard at a distance; as that died away,
a peal of thunder burst forth over their heads, which rolled
away with an undulating sound, till lost in the regions of the
western heavens.
   Our yeomen's eyes were then unbound, and when they
looked up the book of fate was removed, and the Master was
fallen back on his seat, with his countenance mightily dis-
torted; but the abbot and his attendants would not suffer any
to touch him till he recovered of himself. He again rose into
high and unwonted spirits; but his elevation was rather like
the delirium of a man driven to desperation, than that flow
of delightful hilarity, the offspring of a temperate and well
regulated mind. The borderers persevered in their libations,
and the mirth and noise increased till near the fall of the
evening, when Charlie again proposed to go; but the Master
protested against it for a short space, adding, that he had to
give them a practical lesson how their captain ought to
proceed, if he would be the greatest man in Scotland. This
was quite sufficient to prevail on Yardbire, and none of the
rest appeared much disposed to move.
   About this time some of our yeomen, sitting with their
faces toward the casement, beheld a novel scene, which they
called up the rest to witness. This was the Master's new
steward, the late laird of the Peatstacknowe, making his escape
from the castle with all possible speed. He was stripped half
naked, and bareheaded; had thrown himself over the outer
wall, lest he should be seen going by the gate, and was running
up the hollow of Aikwood burn, among the trees, to elude
discovery. Presently afterwards they beheld two of the monks
stretching after him with a swiftness not to be outrun. Poor
Gibbie was soon overhied and brought back, not in the most
gentle manner; and, instead of carrying him round by the
gate, which, having been broken up, stood wide open, they
took him by the heels, and threw him over the wall, at the
place he had leaped before. Gibbie gave a loud squeak in the
air, as he came over the wall with a wheeling motion; and
falling on the other side, every one believed that there would
not be a whole bone left in his body. Instead of that he
sprung to his feet, and ran across the court, saying to himself,
""I'll tell you what--It minds me o' hell this place,--if ever
there was ane upon earth.'' He got not time to finish the
sentence till he was again seized, and hauled into the castle.
   ""Master Michael Scott, I protest in my master's name
against this usage of a leal vassal and tiend laird,'' said
Charlie.
   ""The comely youth is mine by your own agreement,'' said
the Master: ""He shall be well seen to. Perhaps I shall only
keep him for a season, until better supplied. Be content; the
matter is now beyond disputation. In the meantime I will
proceed to give you a specimen of my profound art, of which
you have now seen many instances; and also of my esteem
for your captain, to whom you will be so good as repeat this.''
   He then went away to his arcana, and brought a bason of
liquor, resembling wine, which he sprinkled on all his guests
in small proportions, and taking his seat beside the super-
cilious abbot, the two sat apparently waiting for some grand
metamorphosis. The spell, powerful as it was, had not the
effect that was surmised. These rude warriors of a former
age had principles of virtue and honour in their natures that
withstood the charms of necromancy,--those charms before
which noble dames, cruel laymen, and selfish clergy sunk
down confounded and overpowered. The countenances of a
few of the troopers were somewhat changed by the spell,
assuming thereby a sort of resemblance to beasts, but this
their associates only laughed at, deeming it occasioned by
the drunkenness of the individuals affected. The two great
personages at the head of the table viewed the matter in a
different light, and that with evident symptoms of disappoint-
ment. They comprehended the reason, for they knew there
was but one against which the powers of darkness could not
prevail; and, after holding a conversation about it in their
own mysterious language, they set about the accomplishment
of their desires, for, though a matter of no great avail, the
Master could not brook to be baulked in any of his works of
divination. The purport of this conversation was, what the
Master had once proposed before, that the men must be
made accessory to their own transformation; and in this
project he forthwith engaged with all manner of earnestness.
                         CHAPTER XXV

                He can turn a man into a boy;
                  A boy into an ass;
                He can change your gold into white moneye;
                  Your white moneye into brass;
                He can turn our goodman to a beast
                  With hoof, but, an' with horn,
                And chap the goodwife in her cheer,
                  This little John Barleycorn-

                                      <1Old Song.>1


THE plan of our great necromancer was no other than that
of pushing round the wine, and other strong intoxicating
liquors, to the utmost extremity; and it is well known that
these stimulating beverages have charms that no warrior, or
other person accustomed to violent exertions, can withstand,
after indulging in them to a certain extent. The mirth and
argument, or rather the bragg of weir, grew first obstreperous,
afterwards boisterous and unruly, and several of the men got
up and strode the hall with drawn swords, without being able
to tell with whom they were offended or going to fight.
Neither the Master nor the abbot discouraged this turmoil,
but pushed round the liquor, till some of the most intimate
friends and associates of the party, in the extravagance of in-
toxication, actually wounded one another, and afterwards
blubbered, like children, for vexation. While they were all in
this state of unnatural elevation, father Lawrence got up, and
addressed himself to the party, for the first time. He represen-
ted to them, by striking metaphors, the uncertainty and toil
of the warrior's life; and requested all such of them as loved
ease, freedom, and independence, to become inmates of his
habitation; and during the time of their noviciates, he pro-
mised them every good thing. Several of them pretended to
snap at the proffer, some on one condition, some on another;
but when he presented a scroll of parchment, written in red
characters, for their marks or signatures, no one would sign
and seal, save Tam Craik, who put his mark to it three times
with uncommon avidity, on the positive condition that he
was to have as much fat flesh as he could eat for the first
three years, at all times that he chose, by day or by night.
  When matters were at this pass, and our brave yeomen
could with difficulty rise to their feet, they heard a chorus of
sweet and melodious music approaching, which still drew
nearer and nearer. This was a treat they little expected in
such an habitation; but how much greater was their surprise,
when the hall-door was thrown open, and there were ushered
in thirty of the most lovely maidens that the eyes of men had
ever beheld. They seemed, too, to be all of noble lineage, for
they were dressed like eastern princesses, rustling in their
silks, and covered over with dazzling gems. The Master wel-
comed them with stately courtesy, apologizing for the state
of his castle, and the necessity they would be under of
sitting down and sharing the feast with warriors, who, how-
ever, he assured them were all gallant gentlemen, of his own
kin, and some of them of his own name. The splendid dames
answered, that nothing on earth would give them so much
delight as to share the feast with gentlemen and warriors,
the natural protectors of their helpless sex, to whom it should
be their principal aim to pay all manner of deference.
   As soon as the door was opened, our brave yeomen, with
the profound respect that men of their boisterous occupation
always pay to female beauty and rare accomplishments,
started all to their feet, and made their obeisance. But the
worst concern for them was, that they could not stand on
their feet. Some of them propped themselves on the hilts of
their sheathed swords, leaning the points backward against
the wall. Others kept a sly hold of the buff-belt of the com-
rade next to him; and a few, of whom the poet was one, and
Tam another, lost their balance, and fell back over the
benches, showing the noble dames the soles of their sandals.
All was silence and restraint, and a view of no group could be
more amusing; for though our heroes were hardly able to
behave themselves with the utmost propriety, yet they were
all endeavouring to do it; some keeping their mouths close
shut, that no misbecoming word might possibly escape from
their lips; some turning up their white faces, manifesting
evident symptoms of sickness, and some unable to refrain
their joy at this grand addition to their party.
   The first breaking up of the conversation was likewise
extremely curious; but it was begun in so many corners
about the same time, it is impossible to detail it all. Will
Martin, with a lisping unbowsome tongue, addressed the one
next to him to the following effect.
   ""Fine evening this, noble dame.''
   ""Do you account this so very fine an evening, gallant
knight? ''
   ""Hem, Hem; glorious roads too; most noble lady,--paced
all with--marble, you know. Hem! Came you by the marble
path, fair lady? Hem! hem!''
   ""Not by the marble path, most courteous knight, but on
one of alabaster, bordered with emeralds, rubies, and diamonds
you know. Hem! hem! ''
   ""May all the powers--Hem--powers of beauty, you know--
Ay--hem! and love. Hem! What was I about to say?''
   ""Could not guess, knight.''
   ""That smile is so sweet. Will such an--hem!--such an angelic
creature,--really con--descend to converse familiarly with a
plain, homely warrior?''
   ""Your notice does me far too much honour, worthy
knight.'' And so saying she put the tip of her palm gently on
the warrior's rough hand. Intoxicated as Will was with wine,
he was petrified with astonishment and delight, and could
not find terms to express his gratitude and adoration. Many
others were likewise by the same time testifying, by their
bright and exulting looks, the joy and delight they were ex-
periencing in the conversation of those most beautiful and
refined of all earthly objects. Tam Craik beheld, or thought
he beheld, his lovely Kell among them, blooming in tenfold
loveliness. He was so drunk that he could not articulate one
syllable; but he fixed his long coulter-nose and grey eyes
steadily in the direction of her face, and put his hand below
the table and scratched.
   Still the cup and the cates circulated without any respite.
The Master and the abbot both called them round and round;
and though the lovely and high-born dames tasted sparingly,
nevertheless the circumstances of their having touched the
cup with their lips was sufficient to induce the enamoured
warriors to drink to them in healths deep and dangerous.
Reason had long been tottering on her throne with the best
of them, but these amorous draughts of homage overthrew
her completely, and laid her grovelling in the dust. The heroes
fell from their seats first by ones, but ere the last in threes and
fours. Still the courteous and sympathetic beauties tried to
administer comfort and assistance to their <1natural protectors,>1
by holding up their heads, and chafing their temples; but, in
spite of all they could do, total oblivion of passing events
ensued to the whole of our incautious troopers.
   The next morning presented a scene in the great hall of
Aikwood, which, if it cannot be described, neither can it
ever be conceived. There lay our troop of gallant yeomen, as
good as ever heaved buckler, scattered over the floor; some
in corners, some below benches, every one of their eyes
sealed in profound slumber though the day was well advanced,
and every one having an inamorata in his arms, or clinging
close to him of her own accord. At a given signal, the great
bell of the castle was rung with a knell that might have
wakened the dead. The sleepers raised their drowsy and
aching heads all at the same time; and, as was natural, every
one turned his eyes first toward the partner of his slumbers.
Their sensations may be in some measure conceived, when,
instead of the youthful, blooming, angelic beings, whom they
had seen over-night, there lay a group of the most horrible
hags that ever opened eyes on the light of day. Instead of the
light, flowing, and curled hair, there hung portions of grey
dishevelled locks. Instead of the virgin bloom of the cheek,
and the brilliant enamel of the eye, all was rheum, haggard-
ness, and deformity. Some had two or three long pitted
teeth, of the colour of amber; some had none. Their lovely
mouths were adorned with curled and silvery mustachios;
and their fair necks were shrivelled and seriated like the bark
of a pine-tree. Instead of the rustling silks and dazzling
jewels, they were all clothed in noisome rags; and, to crown
the horror of our benumbed and degraded Bacchanalians,
every one of the witches had her eyes fixed on her partner,
gleaming with hellish delight at the state to which they had
reduced themselves, and the horrors of their feelings. The
poet, and two or three others, fell into convulsions; and all
of them turned away groaning, and hid their faces from these
objects of abhorrence.
   The Master came with his enchanted liquor once more, and
sprinkled it over the prostrate and humbled group, who were
now in that state of mental agony that rendered them in-
different to aught that could occur; and as he sprinkled
them, he said to himself, ""I now have the power over you,
though you had been seven times anointed in holy church.''
   ""Aye, seven times seven,'' said a tremendous voice; and
the words were followed by a laugh that shook the vault of
the hall, which laugh was echoed by three or four accordant
voices, and afterwards by all the witches in the apartment.
The astounded warriors again raised their heads, and beheld
their friend, the abbot, stalking along and along the hall in
the midst of them in majesty sublime. He wore the same
sable and flowing robes, and the same mitre, that he did on
the preceding day; but he was now striding openly in his
own character, with his legs shagged and hairy, shaped like
those of a goat, and his feet cloven into two distinct and
horny hoofs. The three attendants were there also, but they
were no more three monks, but the identical, Prig, Prim, and
Pricker, the infernal pages of Master Michael Scott. In short,
our yeomen discovered, to their utter despair, that they had
been riding, eating, and drinking, hand to fist, with the devil
in <1propria persona.>1
   Before giving any of them time to recover their senses, he
strode up to Dan Chisholm, and stooping over him with
exultation, he said, ""Did not I tell you, Christian droich,
when I bayed you at the mill, that I would be before hand
with you at Melrose, and have not I kept my word?'' As he
said these words, Dan once more saw down his throat, and
beheld the burning flame within. Half-dead with fright, he
threw himself back on the floor, and held up one foot and
one hand, as his last inefficient defence, on which his infernal
Majesty vomited such a torrent of sparkling flame out upon
him and his forlorn partners, that they lost all hope of ever
again moving from the place where they were.
   ""Take heart, my brave fellows,'' said the Master. ""This
great primate, you see, is no other than the prince of the power
of the air, the great controller of the mighty elements, who
has honoured us with his company. You are now in his
power, and lie at his mercy; but he is more of a gentleman
than he is generally represented to be, and will scorn to take
advantage of a few poor insignificant creatures, who call
themselves Christians, of whose company he is sure before
he wants it. He knows you will fume, and bully, and fight for
a few short years, sending one another home to his ample
mansions in myriads before your time. Both he and I would
scorn to take farther advantage of beings so blind ignorant,
and inconsistent, than suits our own amusement. We only
love to mock you, show you your own littleness, and how
easy a prey you would be, were there a being in the universe
that watched for ever over your destruction. Cheer up, gallant
soldiers! and now for the long-waited development of mighty
moment. I will show you the manner, and very mode, by
which your captain must only hope to succeed in his great
enterprise.''
   He then touched every one of them with the divining-rod
that was in his hand, pronouncing at the same time some
mystic words, which none of them comprehended. While he
was thus occupied, the witches rushed from the hall, and as
soon as he had touched the hindmost, he himself also made
his escape, and looked from a crevice of an inner wall. The
enchantment began immediately to take effect; the warriors
rolled about on the floor in strong convulsions, bellowing
and floundering, trying always to run on all-four, and then
tumbling over again. At length their noses and chins began
to grow forward in hideous disproportion, till their heads
began to assume something of the forms of the heads of
beasts, and liker to those of calves than any things else. The
laughter that pealed from loop-hole, crevice, and barbican,
was, at this eventual period, excessive. The devil, the three
wicked spirits, the great enchanter, and his conventicle of
witches, seemed all to be in convulsions at witnessing how
the metamorphosed champions shook their long heads, looked
at one another, and tried to speak. How their language
changed from long-drawn words, half pronounced, to down-
right confused bellowings; and how their forms, in the space
of a few minutes, gradually assumed those of as many mighty
and ferocious bulls.
   ""I have now given you your own proper shapes, and showed
you in frames suited to your natures,'' cried the Master, from
a crevice.
   ""Pass forth, and be gone; and carry my respects to your
captain.''
   Then there was a combined bellow of rage arose in the hall
that would have rent any castle to the top but that of Aik-
wood; and benches, boards, and couches, flew about in
flinders on the horns of the furious monsters. Forthwith they
rushed out into the great court, and from that to the side of
the hill, bellowing, and tearing up the ground with hoof and
horn, till the country was alarmed for many miles round;
and, believing that all hell was broke loose from the castle of
Aikwood that day, they betook them to their heels, and
fled away out of sight and out of hearing.
   The outrageous drove looked back as they ascended the
brae to the eastward of the castle, and saw the devil and the
great warlock, standing on the topmost tower, laughing at
them; the former appearing of a size and dimensions equal
to those of another castle. The grand mitre that he wore on
his head, shaped like a crescent to conceal his horns, now
moved like a cornuted black cloud amid the firmament; his
eyes glimmered like two of the reddest of the stars of heaven;
and the sceptre that he waved in his right hand was like a
tremendous pine all in flame, or rather like a burning aerial
meteor. Our transformed warriors gallopped away in terror
as fast as cloven hoofs could carry them, with one mighty
bison, that had once been Charlie Scott, far a-head of all the
rest; for, notwithstanding of all that Charlie had seen and
heard in favours of the devil, he felt as much affrighted for
him as ever, degraded as he was in form. No wonder was it
that our tumultuous group was terrified and galloped off; for
at the same time they saw that Satan stretching out his
sceptre in his right hand, he held out Tam Craik by the nape
of the neck in his left, while the poor fellow was seen spraw-
ling and spurning the air over an unfathomed void. When the
arch-fiend made his retreat from among the warriors that
morning, in the midst of the confusion he carried Tam off
with him, according to compact--fed him for some time on
animal food of the richest quality, which, never once satisfy-
ing him, the devil grew weary of such a voracious cur, and
twisted his neck about.
   The drove was no sooner out of sight, than the Master said
to one of his pages, ""Pricker, assume thou the habit that thou
hadst yester-eve; mount, and ride after these wild cattle, and
deliver them over to the charge of their dolt of a confessor.
He will try to rescue them from their present degraded and
brutal forms, but he will not be able. Spirit, thou sawest a
part of the charms performed. Give him the proper directions
how to find it out before leaving him. It boots nothing offend-
ing my kinsman, the Warden.''
   Pricker mounted his horse, and rode straight for the fords
of Howden-burn, where he knew the friar was awaiting his
companions, and meant to have driven them all up before
him to the cottage door, where the friar and his fair ward
sojourned, and there delivered them over to the care of these
two, as a present of fine beeves from the great Master to Sir
Ringan Redhough. But before the infernal page overtook
them they were all at the door of the cottage, bellowing and
kneeling, and trying in vain to make their hard case known
to the friar.
   Pricker came up, and saluted the friar, who, observing his
clerical habit, returned the compliment in a hurried and care-
less manner--for he was confounded by the arrival of so
many mad bulls.
   ""Reverend brother mine,'' said the page, ""I deliver over
into thy charge this herd of beautiful cattle, the best breed
that ever roamed the forests of Caledon. They are a present
from Master Michael Scott to his cousin the Warden of the
middle marches. See that you deliver them safe and sound.''
   ""Lo, thou seest with thine eyes, and thou also hearest with
the hearing of the ear,'' said the friar, ""that the creatures are
outrageous, and not to be governed by the hand of a single
man. And thinkest thou a brother of the holy order of
Benedict would take a goad in his hand, and ride forth after
these bulls of Bashan? Lo, would they not even run headlong
upon my mule, and thrust their horns into his side? Thy
servant also, and this maiden, would they tread under their
feet? Go to! Thou speakest as one lacking understanding.''
   ""I give them in charge to thee, as desired by one with
whom it is dangerous to contend,'' said the page; ""and alongst
with them this request, that your captain will make away
with them as quickly as possible for food to his army.''
   At these words of the apparent sacristan there was such a
roaring and bellowing commenced among the herd, that, for
the first time, the friar began to suspect some horrid enchant-
ment, but wist not what to dread. The drove turned round
their heads to the speaker,--shook them in disapproval of
what he had said, and joined in such a ferocious roar against
him, that it was not like ought the friar had ever witnessed
among the brute creation before. The metamorphosed troop-
ers, however, knew too well now who Pricker was to attack
him, but, turning again round, they came in a row, and
kneeled around the friar, looking at him with the most
supplicating expressions of countenance that ever cattle put
on.
   ""Lo, methinks I have looked upon these wild beasts of the
forest in some of the days that are past,'' said the friar, ""and
that their countenances are not entirely unknown to me;
though when, or in what place, in that thing my memory
upholdeth me not. I pray thee, brother, to declare unto thy
servant where thou camest by these beasts of mine acquaint-
ance. If thou art a follower of the worthy Father Lawrence,
thou must speak the truth.--Tell me, art thou a Christian?''
   The bulls gave not the infernal page time to reply. They
turned about, shook their heads, and tossed the earth at him
with their horns, raising at the same time such an outcry of
rage against him that the friar himself was afraid, and re-
treated within the door of the cottage; and he thought that,
amid their confused bellowings, he could distinguish as it
were these words pronounced, ""He a Christian! Away with
him! Away with him!''
   ""Lo, what am I to understand by all this?'' said the friar.
   ""Come near unto me, thou man of mystery, that comest
like one of the children of Esau, with thy cattle and thy
herds, and tell unto thy servant what are these?''
   Pricker would not, however, come nigh the friar, but still
kept his distance; for against the friar's spiritual armour he
durst not engage; but he called out to him, in mockery, ""I
then declare unto thee, O thou great magician, who camest
to cope with the prince of all magicians, Master Michael
Scott, that these are thy master's yeomen whom thou leftest
with him yesterday. Now, what sayest thou? Hast thou ever
witnessed power like this?''
   The friar lifted up his eyes to heaven, and tears fell down
on his dark beard. ""O wretched man that I am!'' cried he,
""why did I leave my children in the lion's den? yea, even in
the den of the great lion. Wo is me, that this breach hath been
made among the followers of my Master! But there is One
that can yet controul all the powers of darkness, and to Him
alone must I apply without delay.''
   The friar went instantly to his devotions, and performed
many rites of a nature too sacred to be here minutely des-
cribed; yet, after all his exorcisms, the men could not regain
their natural shapes, but lay and rolled about on the valley
in awful convulsions. The hellish page, who had kept far
aloof during the time of the friar's sacred appeal, now came
galloping near to enjoy the convulsions of the herd, and the
grief and astonishment of the friar; and after mocking for
some time, in obedience to the great wizard's command, he
called to the friar, and said, ""I see he that brought about this
wonderful metamorphosis,--for which you shall one day be
grateful,--can only effect the counter-charm. Look into the
manes on their foreheads, and look narrowly;'' and having
said these words, he darted off towards Aikwood with the
speed of lightning.
   The friar did as this flying horseman had directed, and
searching the long curled mane between the horns of the
first monster that came to his hand, he there found stitched
a small scroll of parchment, neatly rolled up, and written in
blood. Then he caused them to bring him fire, in which he
burnt it, and presently there stood up at his hand one of
Sir Ringan Redhough's warriors, in all his arms and accoutre-
ments as he first arrived at the castle of Aikwood. ""By the
life of Pharaoh!'' cried the friar, ""surely this excelleth all that
I beheld heretofore!''
   The spell was now quickly dissolved; but no pen can do any
justice to the feelings of our amazed troopers, as they again
strode the green in their own forms and vigour, embracing
the friar, and thanking him as their deliverer. They returned
back over the ridge, not without some dreadful apprehen-
sions, to the mill of Aikwood for their horses, but went no
more in view of the portentous castle. They found their
horses at good feed; and whenever Charlie saw Corby's skin,
that glittered like the plumes of the raven, he cried, ""Aha,
Corby lad, ye haena wantit either meat or drink, ye rascal!
Od ye hae fared better than your master, ye cock-luggit
glooming thief; stall up, ye dog, till I caparison you, and then
let us bound for the border.''
   But the most curious and least suspected of all the cir-
cumstances attending the horses was, that Dan Chisholm's
horse and those of his three companions, that they left
stabled in the deep dell above Lindean, were all found standing
at the mill among the rest. The miller could give no farther
account about them, than that a lad brought them all tied
to one another's tails, and said they belonged to four of the
baron of Mountcomyn's men that were gone to Aikwood.
""By the Lord Soules,'' cried Dan, ""then it is true that Master
Michael Scott said of the devil being more of a gentleman
than he had been generally represented. For all the pranks he
has played us, I'll think the better of him for this the longest
day I have to live. What say you to this, friend Yardbire?''
    ""I shall be twenty miles off Aikwood at least afore I speak
another sentence about either him or some others that I ken
o'. Mercy on us! poor Tam Craik! What an end he has made
wi' his fat bacon! Hech, but it be a despisable thing to rin
open mouth to the--I'll no mention whae--for their greed
o' meat. Some may hae gotten nae mair than what they
deserved; but as for sachless Gibbie Jordan, he has been right
hardly dealt wi'. My heart's unco wae for the poor laird, and
I think something should be done to recover him.''
    ""Something <1shall>1 be done for him,'' said the friar, ""and
that of such momentous consequence, that, if his own in-
iquities keep him not in bondage, all the powers of the evil
one shall be unequal to the task.''
    After all these horrid perils of weird women and witch-
craft thus miraculously overcome, our troop rode straight
on to the camp of the Warden, and found him in the vicinity
of Wooller, having come into those parts to counteract the
rising about Berwick in behalf of the English garrison. And
the time being at hand on which he must either do or not do,
either join with heart and hand in the cause of the Douglas,
or leave him to stand or fall by himself, and abide by the con-
sequences--his impatience for the return of his men from
Aikwood castle had been commensurate with the importance
that he attached to their mission. But when they informed
him of all the wonders they had witnessed, and the trans-
mutations they had seen and undergone--how the warlock
and his spirits had raised the tempests, deluged the plains,
levelled the forests, and cleft asunder the everlasting mount-
ains, the baron was like one in a trance. It was long before
they could make themselves accredited, or impress him with
any other idea than that it was a story made up to astonish
him. With the feats performed by the friar, he was particularly
pleased, and from that time forth paid him more honour than
he had ever been seen pay to man. But the precise meaning of
the destiny, read for him out of the book of fate, puzzled and
interested him most of all. It was dark and full of intricacies;
and it was not till after long consultation with wise men, as
well as women, that any thing like a guess could be formed
of its tendency. By making words and actions to coalesce, a
mode of procedure was at the last pitched on as the only one
reconcileable with the predictions. This mode will eventually
appear without giving the detail at present, and the reader
will then be better able to judge whether or not the Red-
hough and his sages understood the Master's signs and in-
junctions properly.
                        CHAPTER XXVI

                Here away, there away, wandering Willie,
                Here away, there away, haud away hame.
                                            <1Old Song.>1

WE have now performed the waggoner's difficult and tedious
task with great patience, and scarcely less discretion, having
brought all the various groups of our <1dramatis personae,>1 up
to the same period of time. It now behoves us (that is, Isaac
the curate and me,) to return again to the leading event,
namely, the siege of Roxburgh.
  The state of mind to which the two commanders were now
reduced was truly pitiable. Within the castle of Roxburgh,
all was sullen gloom and discontent. In one thing, and that
only, were they unanimous, which was in a frantic inveteracy
against the Scots; and though Musgrave, with the feelings of
a man, would gladly have saved those dearest to him in life,
yet he found that to have proposed such a thing as yielding
to the garrison, would have been but adding fuel to flame in
order to extinguish it. Their small supply soon began again
to wear short; and, moreover, the privations to which they
were subjected, had brought on an infectious distemper
among them, of which some died every day; but every item
added to their sufferings, fell into the scale against the Scots,
and all the cruelties exercised by the latter, in order to break
the spirits of their opponents, only militated against them-
selves. Opposition to the last man was a sentiment nursed in
every English bosom within the garrison, with a brooding
enthusiasm of delight. There can be no doubt that they felt
intensely for their gallant captain, considering the dismal
situation in which he stood with respect to their enemies,
and the strong hold they had been enabled to keep over his
heart. It was probably the burning intensity of these feelings
that was the great source of their unhappiness, and gave rise to
the fierce spirit of dissension that daily manifested itself.
Although they detested the deed the Scots had committed
in executing Sir Richard, yet they felt his death a sort of
relief, as by it one-half of the cord which their hated ad-
versaries held round the breast of their commander was
broken, and there is little doubt that they wished themselves
free of Lady Jane Howard, by fair and gentle means if
possible, but at all events to be rid of that remaining tie,
which almost maddened them to think of.
  There was one circumstance which of late was to all of
them wholly unaccountable. As the day of the Conception
of the blessed Virgin approached, the mind of Lord Musgrave,
instead of becoming altogether deranged as they had fore-
boded, became more and more steady and collected. He
watched over every part of the economy within that huge
fortress, and gave his orders with punctuality and decision,
although with a degree of sternness that had not previously
been observed.
  The dreaded day of the Conception at length arrived; and,
before noon, crowds of the citizens, and people from the
surrounding country, began to assemble around the Scottish
camp. These were forcibly kept beyond the line of circum-
vallation, while the regular troops were drawn up in columns
both to the east and west of the fortress, and particularly
round the gibbet on the Bush-Law. At eleven o'clock the
Scottish trumpets sounded; the English soldiers crowded to
the battlements around the western tower of the citadel, and
Lord Musgrave came up among the rest, arrayed in a splendid
suit of light armour, and gallantly attended.
  These battlements and the new gibbet were, as before
stated, right opposite to one another, and separated only by
the breadth of the moat and a very small slope on the western
ascent; so that every object could be distinctly seen from the
one place to the other, and, by raising the voice somewhat, a
conversation could be carried on across. At the very time
that Lord Musgrave thus appeared on the wall, the Lady
Jane Howard and Sir <1Richard>1 Musgrave were introduced on
the boards of the gibbet. Yes,--read it over again. I say Sir
Richard Musgrave, for it was truly he. The Douglas, seeing
that he could not prevail, and that the gallant youth was
given up by his brother and the English to his fate, could not
brook the idea of losing by his death the one-half of the in-
fluence he held over Musgrave. But that he might try it by
stretching it to the very last, he clothed another culprit in
Sir Richard's habiliments, tied a white cloth over his face,
let him stand a proclaimed space on the boards with the cord
about his neck, and, at the last moment of the given time,
there being no parley sounded for the delivering up of the
keys of the fortress, the board sunk, and the man died; but
Sir Richard was safe in hold.
  He was again produced that day, being the eighth of
December, along with Lady Jane: He was dressed in the suit
of armour in which he fought on the day he was taken prisoner,
and Lady Jane in pure snow-white robes, betokening her
spotless virginity.  Sir Richard's eye beamed with manly
courage, but the fresh hues of the rose on the cheeks of Lady
Jane had blenched, and given place to the most deadly pale-
ness.  Both hosts were deeply affected with the sight, and on
this occasion both felt alike.  There was not a heart amongst
them that did not overflow with pity at the unhappy fate of
the two youthful prisoners, whose dismal doom could now
no longer be averted, unless by a sacrifice on the part of the
English, with which even the most sanguine of the beleaguer-
ing army doubted their compliance.
  The Douglas then caused a herald to make proclamation in
a stentorian voice; first stating the cause why he had put off
the execution of Sir Richard Musgrave until that day, namely,
his anxious desire to save the life of the noble youth, on the
ground that the purposed holding out of the garrison till
the twenty-fourth was a chimera; and, secondly, declaring
that, unless the keys of the castle were previously delivered up
to him, precisely at at the hour of noon, the noble and gallant
Sir Richard, the flower of English chivalry, should be put
down; and the beautiful and accomplished Lady Jane Howard,
subjected to a fate the most humiliating, and the most de-
plorable, that ever noble maiden suffered, and that in full
view of both armies.  A loud murmur of detestation sounded
from the walls of the castle, but the columns of the Scottish
army stood and looked on in mute and tender sorrow.  Lord
Musgrave placed himself right opposite the prisoners, turned
his face straight toward them, and gazed with an unmoved
and undaunted air.  Sir Richard addressed him in the same
sentiments he had formerly expressed, the purport of which
was, it will be remembered, the madness and folly of holding
out the castle, now when the bright and unequalled prize
for which he contended was lost.  For his own life, he said,
he accounted it as nothing in the scale; but the fate that
awaited the lady of his love, who had shewn such devotion
to his person and interests, was not to be endured or permitted
by any knight of honour.  Lady Jane cried out to him to save
her from a doom before which her whole soul shrunk; adding,
that sh had done much, and suffered much, for him, amd
would he not make one effort, one sacrifice, to save her?
  ""Lord Douglas,'' cried Musgrave, ""Will not a formal con-
signment of all my lands, titles, and privileges in the domin-
ions of England, ransom the lives of these two?''
  ""Not if they were ten times doubled,'' returned the
Douglas: ""Nor shall any earthly thing ransom them, save the
full and free possession of the castle of Roxburgh.  I have my-
self suffered a loss at your hands, of which you are not aware;
and I long and thirst to revenge it on you and your house.''

   ""Then my resolution is fixed!'' cried Musgrave: ""Though all
England should deprecate the deed, and though I know my
brethren in arms disapprove of it, I must and will redeem the
lives of these two. Yes, I will save them, and that without
abating one iota from the honour of the house of Musgrave.
Not make one effort, Lady Jane? Not one sacrifice to save
your honour and life? Effort, indeed, I will make none. But,
<1without>1 an effort, I will make a sacrifice of as high estimation
for you as ever knight offered up for the lady of his love.
Perhaps it may not be in my power to save you; but in the
sight of these rival armies,--in yours my only brother and be-
trothed bride,--and in the sight of heaven,--I offer the last
ransom that can be offered by man.'' As he said these words,
he flung himself headlong from the battlement of the western
tower, struck on the mural parapet around the lower platform,
then on the rampart, from which he flew with a rolling bound,
and flashed with prodigious force into the ample moat. There,
by the weight of his armour, he sunk forthwith to rise no
more. The troops of the rival nations stood aghast, with up-
lifted hands, gazing on the scene; but no more was to be
seen of the gallant Musgrave! A gurgling boil of bloody water
arose above him as he sank to the bottom,--and that was the
last movement caused in this world by one whose life had
been spent in deeds of high chivalry and restless commotion.
   Excepting one shriek uttered by Lady Jane, the Douglas
was the first to break the awful silence, which he did by
these words: ""There fell a hero indeed! Noble and resolute
Musgrave! I cannot but envy you such a chivalrous fate as
this!'' Many such expressions of enthusiastic admiration burst
from both armies, not in shouts of applause, for these were
suppressed by sorrow, but in a low and melting pathos that
bespoke the soul's regret as well as approval.
   When these first expressions of feeling were over, the dark
and manly countenance of Douglas sunk into more than
usual gloom and dejection. All the advantages given him, and
which he had deemed insurmountable by his opponents, were
by this desperate act of Musgrave's extinguished. He had now
no more power over the English garrison than what he could
make good with his sword and his bow. To have executed
his threats on Sir Richard, and the lovely and romantic Lady
Jane, would only have been an act of poor and despicable
revenge, which would have disgusted his own followers, and
could in no degree have furthered his cause; so he ordered
them back to confinement, with directions that they should
be attended according to their rank.
   What was next to be done? That was the great question.
Douglas never once conceived the idea of giving up the enter-
prise; for though the princess for whom he had undertaken
it was now no more, his broad domains were all engaged. The
very existence of the house of Douglas depended on his
success; and, besides, the king had more daughters, though
none like his beloved and accomplished Margaret. Therefore
Douglas had no hesitation regarding the necessity of taking
the castle. He was determined to have it. But what to do
next, in order to accomplish this determination, was the ques-
tion. Circumstances were grievously changed with him. The
garrison had got a supply across the Teviot-bridge during the
time of the flood and the tempest, but the Scots could not
ascertain to what amount. Sir Thomas Musgrave had been
joined by some troops from the shores of Northumberland,
and had issued forth with these and the greater part of the
garrison of Berwick, to the amount of 5000 men, in order to
make a diversion in favour of the garrison of Roxburgh. This
movement by the governor of Berwick disconcerted the Doug-
las most of all. A party of these marauders had shewed them-
selves on the height about Hume castle, with trumpets sound-
ing and colours waving in the air. From thence they marched
on, keeping the backs of the hills, until they came into the
lower parts of Leaderdale, which they harried, burning in
their way the town and castle of Ercildon. They next made a
movement towards Melrose, meaning to establish themselves
in the rear of Douglas, and either to cut off his supplies, or
force him to abandon the siege, in order to preserve his own
country behind him. But when they came to the river Tweed
they were opposed by the brave abbot Lawrence, not the
feigned and infernal abbot that our yeomen left at Aikwood,
but the real worthy and apostolic Lawrence himself. He had
raised all the abbey vassals and retainers, and shewed fairly
disposed to dispute the passage of the English over the river.
In the meantime he posted message after message to Douglas,
to come, or send to his assistance, before the abbey of the
holy Virgin, with all its sacred stores, should fall into the
hands of their ruthless enemies.
   Douglas was hardly put to it. If he drew off from a close
blockade, the English were sure to take advantage of his
absence, make a sally, and procure plenty of more provisions;
and, in that case, his only probable hope of success was cut
off. On the other hand, if he suffered himself to be inclosed
between two armies, his situation would become every day
more precarious, and perhaps in the issue quite untenable.
He was, therefore, in a manner forced to the resolution of
making an effort to join father Lawrence, and of giving the
captain of Berwick battle before he attained possession of
the rich monastry of Melrose.
  The time was now arrived when the support of Sir Ringan
Redhough and his borderers was become absolutely necessary.
Without their co-operation in a more close and decisive
manner than that in which they had hitherto conducted
themselves, he could not now proceed one foot, and his
great cause was ruined. He therefore dispatched a pressing
message to the chief, conjuring him as his friend and fellow-
soldier, either to come and supply his place in the blockade
of Roxburgh, or march with all expedition to Melrose, and
give battle to the governor of Berwick. The dogged and un-
yielding Warden returned for answer, that it had always been
his chief and undivided aim to act in concert with his noble
and gallant friend, and lord superior, the Earl of Douglas and
Mar. But that he had a peculiar charge from his Sovereign, of
the English marches, which it was his bounden duty to attend
to, prior to all other considerations. Whatever he could do
conformable with this first duty, should not be wanting.
Finally, he sent him word, as he had done formerly, ""that
if he coudna take the castle, and confessed that he coudna
take it, he might send word to him, and he wad take it for
him.''
  ""What does the crabbed carle always mean by that answer?''
said the Douglas, when it was reported to him: ""Perhaps he
has some means of communication with those within the
fortress, some secret friend in disguise among our enemies.
Perhaps he knows of some weak or accessible point among
these extensive bulwarks, or perhaps he reckons on some
plausible means of surmounting them; for the devil's head is
not more fruitful in expedients than his. This is a matter of
such importance to me at present, that I must try to probe it
to the bottom. Were I sure that he could accomplish his
boasted feat, I had better engage him to it with one-third of
my dominions; and at all events, I must procure the active
assistance of his energetic force at present, whatever may be
the equivalent required. Let my white stead Beaver be capari-
soned, and my attendants in readiness; I must have an inter-
view with this man of the mountains before I sleep.''
  The Warden had drawn his force down the Wooler, with
the intention of co-operating more effectively with the
Douglas. He had heard of the advantages that lord held over
his adversaries, but nothing of the late catastrophe by which
they were all removed. Deeming therefore that the chances
were mainly on the side of the Douglas, he judged it his safest
course to act in complete concert with him. Above all, the
words out of the black book of fate had been conveyed to
him as read by the greatest magician in the world. From all
that could be made out of that mystic rhyme, after long con-
sultation, it appeared that it behoved the Warden and his
friends to go hand in hand with Douglas. ""Rise not against
feudal union--No advance but in communion,'' were words
hardly to be misinterpreted. The words of the prophecy, and
the ludicrous metamorphosis were all taken into account,
compared, computed, and over again computed,--and the
sequel was a decisive resolution to support the Douglas and
join issues with him. But, in the meantime, <1still to make the>1
<1most of a bad bargain.>1
   This resolution had been taken, and so far acted upon, that
trusty agents had been despatched all over the country in dis-
guise, to execute a portion of the great concerted plan, when
the Douglas, at a late hour in the evening, arrived in the War-
den's camp. He then had proofs experimentally of the Warden's
caution and vigilance. He came upon his outposts at a great
distance from the main body of his army. These withstood his
passage, but seeing his retinue so small, for he was attended
only by two knights, a squire, and a guide, they conducted him
from one post to another, till at length they brought him com-
pletely guarded to the Warden's head-quarters; which was
nothing more than a lowly cottage at Wooller haugh-head.
   The doughty chief and his kinsmen were still sitting in
earnest conversation round a rustic table, with a tremendous
torch in the middle of it. This was nothing less than a huge
broken jar full of refined ox's tallow, and a flow great stuck
to the head in the middle, which being kindled emitted a blaze
like a fish light. The gallant kinsmen were in deep consultation
anent their grand plan of warlike operations, and the more
they conversed about it the more eligible did it still appear
to them, and the more deeply did they get interested in it;
so that when the knight in waiting announced a stranger who
requested an interview with Sir Ringan, every one seemed
disposed to refuse him admission.
   ""Tell him I am engaged,'' said the Warden.
   ""O yes. By all means. Tell him we are engaged,'' said
Dickie o' Dryhope.
   ""If it is another message from the Douglas, I have had
enough of him,'' said the Warden.
   ""Ay, faith, we have had enough of him,'' said Dickie.
   ""It is perhaps from Master Michael Scott'' said Yardbire:
""Or maybe himsel, wha kens. Lord sauff us!'' ""D'ye think
sae?'' said the Warden, starting to his feet: ""That would indeed
alter the case!''
   ""Ay, that would alter the case indeed!'' said Dickie, starting
to his.
   ""Who is he? or what is he like?'' enquired the Warden.
   ""Ay, that is the principal thing to be attended to,'' said
Dickie; ""What is he like?''
   ""He is delivered as a knight of most noble bearing and
courtly deportment,'' answered the knight in waiting. ""I
suppose we must admit him, and hear what he has to say,''
said the Warden, again taking his seat.
   ""O yes. By all means. Let us hear what he has to say,'' said
Dickie, sitting down likewise.
   As the courtly and athletic form of the Lord Douglas
came up the hovel, the Border gentlemen stood all up to
receive him, save Sir Ringan, who throwing himself back on
his seat, leaned his chin on his hand, and in that indifferent
posture awaited till the quality of his guest was made manifest.
But no sooner did the voice of Douglas reach his ear, than he
rose up to salute and receive him with as much ease as if he
had been his daily visitor.
   ""You are hard of admission, noble Sir Ringan,'' said he,
""thus to let your friends wait at the door of your pavilion,
after riding so far in the dark to see you.''
   ""I am chafed with visitors from both countries every hour
of the day, Lord Douglas; many of them coming with com-
plaints which it is out of my power to rectify. I have therefore
a sly inquisition established around me, that might haply
give your Lordship some interruption. But it was your own
blame. Had you announced the name of Douglas, that would
have opened a lane for you from my farthest outpost to this
chair, which I request you to occupy, while I take my place
here at your right hand. You are welcome, noble Earl of
Douglas and Mar, to our rude habitation. There is no man more
so, beneath our sovereign lord the King. I give you and your
attendants all kind welcome and greeting.''
   ""You are become as much an accomplished courtier among
these wild wastes as you were before an accomplished war-
rior, Sir Ringan,'' said Douglas.
   ""I always make points of speaking as I am spoken to,
drinking as I am drunk to, and going to a battle when sent
for,'' said the Warden. ""H'm h'm h'm,'' neighed Dickie o'
Dryhope, screwing up his mouth on one side like a shrew: ""It
is all true our Captain tells you, Lord Douglas. That's his
rule. Mh? mh? Mh? H'm h'm h'm.'' The Douglas cast at
Dickie a curious searching glance from his dark eye that was
half hid by a shaggy eyebrow; and then turning to Sir Ringan,
replied, ""I am heartily glad of it, noble Baron of Mountcomyn,
it having been for that very purpose I sought this interview
with you. Sir Ringan Redhough, you must to battle with me
to-morrow.''
   ""With all my heart, my lord,'' was the reply.
   ""Come, that is as it should be. We'll no more of it. We <1can>1
have no more of it,'' said Douglas: ""Let us have a flaggon
of your best wine to drink success to our arms.''
   The wine was soon produced, with plenty of other good
cheer, with which the Warden's camp was then abundantly
stored; and the two chiefs conversed together with as much
freedom, and as little apparent jealousy with regard to rank
or fame, as if they had been two brothers. The Douglas de-
lineated his affairs as in that posture in which success could
not fail him; at the same time he admitted the ticklish situation
in which he stood, owing to the diversion made by the captain
of Berwick, and that without an instant effort he would be
inclosed between two fires. Sir Ringan answered, that he
had heard of the incursion, and therefore he had drawn his
troops down from the dales of Northumberland to support
his friend and firm ally in any case of necessity; and he con-
cluded by boldly proffering either to supply the Douglas's
place in the blockade, or march to the west, and hold Sir
Thomas Musgrave in check. Douglas was delighted to find the
crabbed, cross-grained Warden, as he was wont to call him,
in such a complaisant humour; and testified that delight by
many well-turned compliments and encomiums on his vigil-
ance and gallant support. He got introduced to all the gentle-
men of the party, with whom he exchanged civilities, desiring
them all to regard him as their friend, and one ready to do
them a kindness whenever it lay in his power. ""And now, Sir
Ringan, since you hold the taking of the castle of Roxburgh
so light,'' said he, ""I think it is meet that my men and I should
march and give battle to Musgrave. Probably you may have
taken possession of that troublesome garrison before we
return.''
   ""If I do, my Lord Douglas, I take it for myself,'' replied
Sir Ringan; ""and claim all the privileges, rights, and immuni-
ties that were to devolve on you as the reducer of it. Now, if
I should take the castle of Roxburgh before your return, I
suspect you would find it as hard work to expel me, and these
Border warriors of mine, as the half-starved English that you
have there already. I have all these brave fellows to hold in
beef and malt, my Lord of Douglas; and for their sakes I have
laid down a golden rule to walk by, which is, <1To do nothing>1
<1for nothing.>1 If I take the castle of Roxburgh, I take it for my-
self and them.''
   Douglas, who knew nothing of the prophecy and injunct-
ions from the book of the destinies of men, became more
convinced than ever, that the Warden knew of some flaw or
some tangible point in the garrison; and if there existed a
knowledge of such a thing, he resolved to avail himself of it
by any means. He knew Sir Ringan too well to suppose he
would confide his secret to him, without a certainty of
reaping due advantage; and that, therefore, it behoved to
give him a prevailing interest in it. With this view, he answered
him, jocularly: ""Though you were to receive all that was
promised to me, in the event of my success, you would
probably find yourself only a loser by the guerdon.''
   ""Why, are you not to be made the king's son-in-law?''
replied Sir Ringan ""and thereby the first subject, or rather
the first man of the realm; for, by the indolence and retired
habits of our sovereign, you would have the whole kingdom
at your beck. Call you this nothing, my Lord? Or would it be
fair and reasonable,--supposing the thing possible, which I
do not pretend to say it is,--that if my warriors and I should
put you in possession of all this power, riches, and honours,
would it be fair, I say, that we should be again turned out to
these Border wastes, to live by our shifts, without reaping any
thing of the benefit?''
   ""Should you take the castle for me, in my absence, noble
Sir Ringan, your reward shall be of your own naming.''
   ""Would it not be better, Lord Douglas, that the reward
were settled before-hand; and, then, I lose or gain at my own
risk and peril. If I deliver you no produce, I ask no pay.''
   ""And what is the reward Sir Ringan would ask for such a
piece of incalculable service?''
   ""My choice of seven baronies on the West Border, to
divide amongst these gentlemen commoners, to whose support
I owe every thing.''
   ""You are a master worth serving, brave Sir Ringan. But
such a grant would break my power on the Border for ever.''
   ""It is that your power on the Border <1may not>1 be broken
for ever, Lord Douglas, that I make the proffer. I am safer
without the venture. But you are a day's march nearer to the
English army,--draw off your men silently before the break
of day, and march against it. I shall supply your place at the
blockade, to the west of the castle, without loss of time and
answer to you at your return for all ingress or egress that takes
place in that division. If Sir Thomas proves hard for you, you
have only to keep your men together, and fall back toward
the entrenchments. You shall find you have some good back-
  Douglas had determined on no account to let this proffer of
the Warden's ingenious head and powerful arm in the taking
of the fortress pass without trial; so, without more ado, he
called for the friar's tablets, and made out a grant to Sir
Ringan, in free present, of the barony and lands of Gilters-
cleuch, and his choice of seven of the best baronies belonging
to the house of Douglas in the districts adjoining to the West
Border, in the event of his putting James, Lord of Douglas
and Mar, in full possession of the castle of Roxburgh. This
grant signed and sealed, the Douglas departed, after pledging
the Warden and his friends in a hearty stirrup cup, both
chiefs being alike well pleased with the agreement they had
entered into. The Douglas posted back to Roxburgh, and
reached it just in time to put the western division of his army
in motion at break of day; while Sir Ringan made his musters
by the light of the moon, and marched off to the siege of
Roxburgh.
                  CHAPTER XXVII

                  Aboon his skins he sat and rockit,
                  And fiercely up his bonnet cockit;
                  Then at ha' doors he crousely knockit
                            Withouten dread,
                  Till wives and bairns around him flockit,
                            But now he's dead.

                  Then he wad claw, and he wad hustle;
                  Till all the skins played rap and rustle;
                  While up his thighs, wi' devilish bustle,
                            Ran mony a ked;
                  Now they hae lost their gume and gustle,
                            Sin' Robin's dead.

                  De'il on the yaud, that I should ban!
                  That brak the neck of sic ane man;
                  Now wha will wucked dames traupan
                            Wi' siccan speed?
                  Or drive the hides to them wha tan,
                            Sin' Robin's dead?
                                     <1Rob Paterson's Elegy.>1

ON the same day that Douglas marched his men up the Tweed
towards Melrose, and the Warden his troopers across the
Border to the siege of Roxburgh, a band of twelve men and
thirty horses came up out of Eskdale towards Craik-Cross,
the most motely group that had ever been seen traversing
that wild country. The men were dressed as English peasants
of the lowest order, with broad unshapely hats, made of a
rude felt of wool and hair mixed; wide coarse jockey-coats
that came below their knees; and, instead of loops or buttons,
these were bound round the middle with a broad buff-belt;
the rest of their dress was all conformable, save that each of
them had a noble broad-sword girded by his side. Some of
their horses were loaden, some of them half-loaden, and a
few had scarcely any thing on their backs at all. But no man
will guess what that loading consisted of. Not to keep the
reader in suspense, it was of <1nolt-hides;>1 that is, of cow-hides,
oxen-hides, bull-hides, and all sorts of hides that ever came
from the backs of cattle. There were raw hides and dried hides,
black hides and white hides, hides with horns, and hides
without horns; and of these consisted their loading, and
nothing else.
  The men alighted at Craik-Cross to bait their horses, and
the following conversation ensued, which will let the reader
into the secret who these skin-dealers were, thus strangely
accoutred.
   ""Will Laidlaw o' Craik, ye're a gayan auld-farrant chield.
Come near me, and sit down, and tell me gin ye can hae ony
guess what our master the Warden can be wanting wi' a' thir
confoundit ill-smelled hides?''
   ""I hae puzzled my brain to nae purpose about it, Dan
Chisholm; but am convinced it is some way connected wi' the
siege of that unlucky castle; and the maist part o' us trows
that they are for making raip-ladders, or rather whing-ladders,
for climbing ower the wa's; an gin that be the case, Dan, there
will mony ane o' us throw away our lives to little purpose.''
   ""Now to hear you talk about fock throwing away their
lives! You that wad risk your life for naething but a broken
crown every day o' the year. Why, Will Laidlaw, I hae foughten
often in the same field wi' you afore this time, and I never
saw you set your life at a cow's horn, let be the hide o' ane
(for whilk we wad gie a good deal the day.) I hae seen ye ride
from your ain party, when that wing wasna hotly enough
engaged, and blatter into the very thickest and hettest part
o' the field, just girning and laying on like some lang-nosed
deil come out o' the pit. But let me tell ye, Will o' Craik, it is
a sair fault o' your's, and it is a clagg o' the hale clan,--the
deil be your landlord, (as he has already been mine, quietly,)
gin the hale tott o' ye be nae ill for saying ae thing an'
thinking another. If ane hear a Laidlaw complaining o' pinch-
ing and poverty, ye may amaist be sure that he has the best
stockit mailings, and the best filled beef-barrels in the country.
If ye hear him complaining, that the English are herrying the
Scots up, stoop and roop, ye may rely on it the Scots hae
been getting the upper hand and enriching themsels; and if
ye hear a Laidlaw pretending to be averse to a foray or a
battle, ye may depend on it that his very knuckles are itching,
and his teeth watering, to be at it.--Na, ye needna waul wi'
your muckle een, Will, for ye canna deny the thing; and it is
a d--n'd provoking gate ye hae.''
   ""Hout, dear Dan! we just hae it by kind to try what fock
thinks on the subject a wee; to sound them like, afore we tell
our hale minds. But a' comes aye freely out ere the hinder-
end. But the truth is, about this that we were cracking; ye
ken I dinna mind a bodle what the Warden be gaun to do wi'
the skins, provided he keep his promise, and gie me a living
English cow for the hides of every three dead anes that I
bring him.''
   ""There it goes now! There you go again! Weel I ken ye
carena ae doit about the kye. Ye hae plenty o' baith kye and
ewes already, and, on the contrary, ye wad <1gi'e them a'>1 to
ken what our chief is gaun to be about wi' thir hides. But it is
needless to fight w'ye! Ye canna help that cross gate o' ex-
pressing yoursel. Gin ever ye be drowned we may seek you
up the water. There's ae thing, Will,--ye may see the Warden
means some general good to us a' by this project, whatever it
is, for he has sent ae man o' every name to gather up the skins
o' his native district. Ae Oliver, ae Armstrong, ae Laidlaw, ae
Chisholm, and twa o' the Redhoughs; for ye ken he is always
maist behadden to his ain name. But what can be the meaning
o' this ugly disguise, I canna form a single conjecture; and he
is sae strick about it too, that if ane o' us let oursels be
found out, we lose a' chance of reward or advantage. Sae,
Will, ye're unco weel kend about Craik and Howpasley, and
a' the links o' Borthwick, and so am I about Castle-Wearie
and Chisholm, and thereabouts. Gang ye into my father's
house a'night, and I'll gang to Craik; gather ye up the hides o'
Teviot, and I shall take Borthwick in my road. My father will
maybe be a wee sweer to take ye in, but ye maun make your
way on him the best gate ye can; he has the best stockit
pantry on Teviot head, but a bit of a Laidlaw's fault, com-
plaining aye maist when he has least reason. He has a capital
stock o' hides, but seeing that English disguise he may deny
them; therefore try him first, and if he winna produce them,
gang up the burn about half a mile, and in a lown crook, weel
hidden frae a' the world, ye'll find a bit housie wi' a dozen o'
good hides in it. If he winna gi'e you them at a fair price, ye
maun e'en take them for naething, as it is a' for his ain
advantage.''
  ""Na, na, Dan. Weel I wat I'll do nae sic thing! I wadna dis-
pute wi' the auld man, nor anger him for a' the hides in the
hale barony.''
   ""There again! Aye the auld man! Now, the Lord forgi'e
ye; for ye never met wi' him a' your life but ye baith angered
him and disputed wi' him. But nae mair about it. Take ye
Sandy Pot o' the Burnfit, the queer hairum skairum devil,
Tam Oliver, Bauldy Elliot, and Bauldy Armstrong wi' you;
and I'll take Jamie Telfer o' the Dodhead, Jock o' the Delorrin,
Jock Anderson o' nae place, and Geordie Bryden o' every
place, wi' me,--and good luck to the skin trade!''
  It was one of those sort of winter days that often occur in
January, when the weather is what the shepherds call ""in the
deadthraw,'' that is, in a struggle between frost and thaw.
There was a dark cloud of rime resting on the tops of the
hills, which shrouded them in a veil impervious to vision
beyond the space of a few yards, and within that cloud the
whole height appeared to be covered with millions of razors,
every pile of bent and heath being loaded with ice on the one
side, so that each had the exact resemblance to a razor blade,
all of which appeared to be cast in the same mould, and of the
same beautiful metal. The feet of the horses as they travelled
through this made a jingling noise, as if they had been wading
among crystal. As they came lower down on the hills the air
became softer, and the ground was free of those ice-candles;
but an uncommon gloom hung over holm and dale.
  Old Peter Chisholm was walking on the green to the west-
ward of his house, looking at his ewes coming bleating down
from among the dark foldings of the rime, and saying to him-
self, ""I wonder what can be word o' thae dirty herd callants
the day, that they are letting the sheep come a' stringing in
lang raws, and rairing and bleating, into the how o' the water
that gate. The country's in a loose state e'now, for the
strength is a' out o't; a raid o' thirty stout English thieves wad
herry the hale water. An sic were to come this gate the day,
my stock wad be a' gane.''
  Peter was proud of his ewes for all that, and, giving them a
whistle, he threw the plaid over his shoulder, set his broad
bonnet up before, and turned about to go home to look after
the shepherd lads. As he turned his face to the north, he
naturally cast his eye up toward the Limycleuch hills, where
it instantly embraced the appalling sight of Will Laidlaw o'
Craik, and his disguised compeers, with their fifteen horses,
coming stretching down the ridge, right opposite to Pate
Chisholm's hirsel of bonny wheel-horned ewes. The old man's
eyes were dazzled in his head, and a paralytic affection seized
his whole frame.  ""Lord pity us! Now see what's coming
yonder,'' said Peter: ""I tauld them aye what wad happen! but
no ane wad heed me! O dool to the day! A man may soon
hae muckle, and soon hae naething in this wearifu' country. O
Dan, Simon, and Jock, the strength o' my house! wherefore
are ye a' gane and left your gear to gang as it came! Dear
bought! far sought! and little for the haudding.''
  By the time Peter got thus far with his soliloquy he was
quite out of breath; for he was not only walking fast, but he
was absolutely running towards home, with a sore stoop,
and knees bent much forward. Still as he hobbled he contin-
ued to apostrophise in short sentences, as he could gather a
little breath now and then to utter a small portion of the con-
catenation of repulsive ideas that presented themselves one
after another--""Naething but trash left--Heh-heh--Rob-in-
Laid-law!--I hae seen--Heh-heh the--day, but--Heh--that's--
gane,--Lasses, too! --Hoh--oh! --O ay!--Half--breed--bring--up
Oh--Dan--Dan, &c. &c. Daughter! Bessy Chisholm--Heh! Are
ye therein? May Chisholm--where's your titty? Poor tafferel
ruined tawpies! What are ye gaun gaindering about that gate
for, as ye didna ken whilk end o' ye were uppermost?''
""That's easily kend, father. What has come ower ye? Hae ye
seen a warlock that ye are gaping and glowring at sic a dismal
rate?'' ""War than ony warlock, ye twa glaikit idle hizzies. Off
wi' jerkin and wilycoat, and on wi' doublet, breeks, and bus-
kins instantly. Belt on bow, buckler, and brand, and stand for
life, limb, gear, and maidhood, or a's gane in ae kink. O dool
be to the day! dool be to the day! What are ye standing
glinting, and looking at ane anither there for? Cast your een
up to the Carlin-rigg, and see what's coming. A'harried!
ravaged! and murdered! Come, come: Don your billies' claes;
let us make some show; it will maybe save something. Warn
the herd callants; let the stoutest of them arm, and the
weakest rin and drive sheep and cattle an' a' out o' sight
amang the clouds. O dool to the day! Na, na; for a' the
houses that are in the country here they come straight! Nae
winning by this place.''
   The lasses seeing their father in such a querulous mood, and
the motely troop fast approaching, acquiesced in his mandate,
and without delay mounted themselves each in a suit of
their younger brother's clothes, while old Peter stood over
them to see that they put all to rights, always giving such
directions as these: ""Come, come, come! strap, clasp, belt
and buckle; and gude-sake fauld up your cuffs. Your arms
hing at your shoulder blades as they were off joint. Hout fie!
hout fie! Wha ever saw young chields hae sic luchts o' yellow
hair hingin fleeing in the wind? Come, come, strap and string
down; swaddle it round wi' sax dizzen o' wheelbands, and
fasten a steel-belted fur cap ower aboon a'. Yare, yare! Lord
sauff us! Here they come! What's to be our fate? Keep close
for a wee while.''
   ""Hilloa! Wha hauds the house!'' was vollied from the door
by the deep-toned voice of Will Laidlaw.
   ""There's nae body in but me, and I downa come to the
door. Ye had better ride on,'' cried old Peter, in a weak tremu-
lous voice.
   ""Wilt thou answer to thy name, or hast thou a name to
answer to?'' said Will, feigning to speak the broad Northum-
berland dialect, which sorted very ill with his tongue: ""An
thou be'st leel man and true, coome and bid thee guests
wailcome. It is God speed, or spulzie wi' thee in three
handclaps.''
   ""Spulzie, quo the man!'' exclaimed Peter: ""The muckle
fiend spulzie the unmannerly gab that spake it!''--and with
that he came stooping over his staff, and coughing to the door,
speaking in a quavering treble key. ""A bonny like purpose!
What wad ye spulzie frae a poor auld man that hasna as
muckle atween him and the grave as will pay for howking it,
and buy a hagabag winding sheet? Spulzie, quo he! That is a
good joke!--he--he--he, (cough) hoh--hoh--hoh. I'm sae ill
wi' that host! Eh? wha hae we a' here? Strangers, I think!''
   ""Goodman, we were directed to your house for a night's
entertainment or two, if you are the old rich yeoman ycleped
Patrick Chisholm of Castle-Weary.''
   ""Na, na! I'm nae rich yeoman! I'm naething but a poor
herried, forsaken, reduced auld man! I hae nae up-putting for
ought better than a flea. Ye had better ride on down to
Commonside. There's plenty there baith for man and horse.
Come away. I'll set you down the length o' the ford, and let
ye see the right gate.''
   ""Come neighbours, let us go away as he says; We'll never
make our quarters good on this auld carle,'' said Sandy Pot,
in a whisper to his companions: ""And troth do ye ken I wad
rather lie at the back of the dike, before I imposed myself on
ony body. Od my heart's wae for the poor auld niggard.''
   ""Come away, lads, come away,'' cried Peter. ""The days
are unco short e'now; ye haena time to put off.''
   ""Stop short there, my good fellow,'' cried Laidlaw, ""We
have some other fish to fry with you before we go. I am in-
formed you have a large stock in hand of the goods in which
we deal. You have had lucky lifts this year. Plenty of good
hides with you?''
   ""Rank misprision, and base rascally jests on a poor auld
man. Not a single hide about the hale town, foreby the ane
on my back,'' cried old Peter.
   ""My orders are, worthy old yeoman, to give fair prices to
such as produce their hides,'' said Laidlaw. ""But whoever
refuses, I am obliged to search for them; and if I find any I
take them at my own price.''
   ""O dear, honest gentleman, I downa joke wi' ye: hoh,
hoh,'' coughed Peter. ""Gin ye be for a place to stay in a'
night, come away as lang as it is daylight.''
   ""Why, with your leave my good fellow, we must lodge
with you to-night. Hearth-room and ha'-room, steed-room
and sta'-room, is the friendly stranger's right here. Small
things will serve: a stone of English beef or so, and two or three
pecks of oats.''
   ""Beef, quoth the man? Ye may as weel look for a white corby
as beef in my pantry, or aits in my barn. Will ye no come away?''
   ""Not till I make a search for your nolt hides, honest yeo-
man. To that am I bound.''
   The four skin-dealers next the door alighted and went in,
leaving their horses with the other two, who went and put
them up in a good large stable with plenty of stalls. Peter ran
back to the house in perfect agony, speaking to himself all
the way. ""They are very misleared chaps thae. They maun
surely either be Low Dutch, or else sutors o' Selkirk, that
they are sae mad about skins. I little wat how I am to get rid
o' them.''
   The two lasses appeared armed cap-a-pee like two young
men; and though Bess was Will Laidlaw's own sweetheart,
he did not recognize her through the disguise, neither did she
once suspect him. The two made a little swaggering about
the <1pelt-dealers>1 as they called them entering the pantry, but
not choosing to measure arms with them, the weak suffered
the strong to pass; and Will having his cue, soon discovered
the huge barrels of beef below the ground, with empty ones
above them. Old Peter shed tears of vexation when he saw
this huge and highly-valued store was all discovered, but had
not a word to say for himself, save now and then ""A' fairly
come by, and hardly won; and there is nae right nor law that
says honest men should be eaten up wi' somers. May ane speir
where ye come frae, or by wha's right ye do this?''
   ""Why man dost thou no hear and dost thou no see that
we're coome joost from Nworthoomberland!''
   ""Aha!'' thought Peter to himself; ""English thieves after
a'! I had some hopes that I could distinguish Scots tongues
in their heads. But a's gane, a's gane!''
   ""Now auld yeoman, if thou hast a word of trooth in thee,
tell us where the hides are, and we will pay thee for them.
   ""No ae hide about the town. No ane, either little or
muckle.''
   ""Why soore am I them coos doodnae coome to thee with-
oot heydes, did they? That I can answer for, they had a'
heydes and bonns baith when they came from hwome.''
   ""Waur than ever! Waur than ever!'' exclaimed Pate Chis-
holm to himself as he sought another apartment: ""The very
men that the kye were reaved frae come to take revenge!
Callant, come here and speak wi' me. Haste to a neighbout's
house, and raise the fray. We shall never be a' quietly put
down wi' half a dozen.''
   ""Dearest father,'' said May, ""I dinna think the men mean
ony ill, if ye wad be but civil.''
   ""Civil or no civil, wench, it is as good to have half a dozen
armed men lying concealed near us,'' said Peter: ""An we
dinna need them, the better. Rin your ways, and gar raise a'
the auld men and the young lads in the two neist towns, for
there is nae ither left. Pith's good in a' play.''
   The maid did as she was ordered, and Peter, seeing that no
better would be, tried to compel himself to a sort of civility,
which, however, sat on him with a very bad grace. But, hides!
hides!--nothing but hides was the burden of their enquiries;
while Peter durst not for his life produce the hides, deeming
that every man would know the hides of his own kine, and
wreak tenfold vengeance on himself and household. He knew
not, he said, what his son Dan, who took care of all these
matters, had made of them,--sold them he supposed to the
curriers and sutors of Selkirk,--and more than this Pate
would not acknowledge. There was no other thing for it, nor
perhaps did Laidlaw want any thing else, than for him and
his companions to walk up the burn and make a seizure of the
whole of Peter's excellent hides, with which they returned
loaden to his dwelling. His confusion and distress of mind
were most appalling when Laidlaw spread them all out before
him, and asked in a very particular manner to be informed
where he had got them. O! Peter knew nothing about them.
They were not his at all. He did not know to whom they be-
longed. But he would not stand to speak, turning his back
always on the men, and hasting away, coughing and speaking
to himself. He could have seen these presumptuous skin-men
roasted on a brander, for they had now put him out of all
patience, and all hope!
   ""Pray thee now, mine good friend, inform me this,'' said
Laidlaw; ""Did'st thou nwo get this seame fleckered one, and
this brwoad one here, on the third of the last mwonth; and
here's wother three, did'st thou nwo get them on the twentieth
of the seame mwonth? Now tell me this I say? Why where is
thou gwoing groombling inte theesel? Turn about thee feace
to the heydes, and answer to the pwoint.''
   ""Aff hands is fair play,'' said old Pate: ""I winna be forced
wi' ony unmannerly English lown that ever I saw atween the
een;'' and with that he heaved his staff and struck Laidlaw
across the shoulders, and over the steel bonnet repeatedly,
who was like to burst with repressed laughter, but still persis-
ted in his queries.
   ""What ails the owld catwiddied carle,'' said he, ""that he
winno answer a ceevil question? I's jwost wanting to tauk to
thee aboot boosiness, and thou flees out in a reage and breaks
me head. Come tourn again, and tell me when and where thou
got'st this one, see, this wheyte one here! What's 't moomb-
ling at? Wolt thou tell me the price of them, then?''
   ""I want to hae naething to do wi' you, and as little to say
to you; therefore, gang about your business, and dinna plague
a poor auld unfeiroch man. The gate is afore ye, and your
company's wanted elsewhere.''
   Will would take none of those hints; he followed his un-
courteous host about and about, till at last he fairly holded
him beyond the fire; and then he took his seat over against
him and conversed on, while his companions dropped in one
by one and joined in it. For a while they got it all to them-
selves, but at length Pate, not being able to make better of it,
suffered himself to be drawn in by degrees to join them, still
preserving the same strain of disingeniousness. They asked
who the two handsome striplings were that attended him,
and spread the board with provisions? He answered that they
were two sons of his own. ""Sons of thine?'' said Laidlaw,
""Whoy, what are their neames?'' ""Simon and John,' answered
he; ""or rather Sim and Jock, for that's how we ca' them.''
   ""Whoy, mon, that is the queerest thing I ever heard,''
said Laidlaw; ""Then thou hast two swons of the neame of
Jock, and other two of the neame of Sim, for I saw two of
that neame, strapping youths, in the Warden's camp.''
   Peter wist not well what answer to make; and, therefore,
only added, ""Ay, Ay! Were you in the Warden's camp? Then
tell me, is their ony word frae my son Dan?''
   ""Ay man, I can tell thee sic news of Dan as thou never
heard'st; he has sitten at his supper hand and neive wi' the
deil.'' At these words one of the young men behind them
(May Chisholm to wit,) uttered a suppressed scream, and from
that moment Will Laidlaw smelled a rat, and soon discovered
his own beloved Bess Chisholm standing gazing at him as he
related the wonderful story of her brother's adventures with
the devil, the warlock, and the three evil spirits; of his race
with those infernals along the marble pavement of the air;
his transformation into a horned beast; and of his eating and
drinking with the prince of darkness. But the two striplings
were most of all shocked at hearing of the devil's burning
stomach, and how the wine <1fizzed>1 as it went down.
   After listening and wondering while all these things were
in relation, Bess said to the skin-dealer next to her, who
chanced to be Sandy Pot, ""Pray, Sir, when you were in the
camp of Sir Ringan Redhough, did you note a brave trooper,
a friend of ours, named Laidlaw?''
   ""Oh, yes, that I did,'' said Sandy: ""I know him well.'' This
was a glorious joke for Pot, and his comrades were afraid he
would persevere in it till he put their secret out altogether.
   ""How is he reported in the army?'' said she: ""Is it still
alleged that he is the bravest and most successful battler in
the baron's array?''
   <1""Bottler,>1 I suppose you mean,'' said Sandy, ""for as to his
battling, God mend that. He is not noted for ought that I ever
heard of, except for keeping a flunkey, or a wall-i'-the-chamber,
as the Frenchmen ca' it; and it is reported thro' all the army,
that that <1wally>1 o' his is an English girl. I can tell you that
your neighbour, Will Laidlaw, is notorious for nothing else
beside this.''
   ""It is false as thyself, and thy perjured ungenerous nation,''
said the disguised maiden. ""I know my friend to be honour's
self, and of a house whose courage and integrity were never
called in question. The man that dares to slander him had
better do it somewhere else than in my presence, and under
my father's roof. But I degraded him myself, by putting his
name into the mouth of such a mean forager as thou art! The
man whose actions are base, always accuses the brave and
generous of deeds such as his own.''
   ""Bless me, what ails the chiel?'' said Sandy, laughing good
humouredly;-- ""What's the great ill o' keeping <1a wally?>1 I
aince keepit ane mysel, there's nae doubt o't, till my uncle,
Gideon Scott, set up his birse, and gart me part wi' the
creature.
   The rest laughed at Sandy being put out of countenance
by the indignant stripling; but Bessy Chisholm turned on her
heel, and walked out at the door, muttering expressions
about vulgarity, raw hides, and maggots; and Will Laidlaw,
not able to contain himself, rose and walked out after her,
in a visible state of mental agitation. As he approached the
stable door quietly, into which she had turned, he heard her
saying to herself. ""Laidlaw keep an English mistress in dis-
guise! No, the fellow is a poltroon, and a liar, and I will not
believe it.'' Will entering at that moment, seized her hand
between both his, and kissed it, saying, in a passionate style,
""My own dear and high-spirited Bess Chisholm still!''
   Never was there seen such a statue of amazement! The
tones of the voice, now uttered in its natural key, were
familiar to her. But the figure that uttered them! To be
addressed in that style by a great burly thief of an English
skin-buyer, outwent all comprehension. She was in a man's
dress, be it remembered,--and there she stood, with her face
half raised, her ruddy lips wide apart, and her set eyes of
lucent blue showing a mixture of astonishment and disdain.
""What? what? Sir,'' was all that she could say, until the raga-
muffin figure reminded her of the weaponshaw at Mount-
comyn, and some love-tokens and vows, of which none knew
save one. But, with a woman's natural caprice, she now was
angry at him in turn having discovered her true sentiments,
and refused to acknowledge him as her lover in that hateful
disguise, unless the meaning of it was explained to her. He
told her, that the meaning of it was unknown to himself;
that he took it at his captain's command; but that his fortune
depended on the secret being kept.
    ""There you are safe, at all events,'' said she; ""and it is well
you have disclosed yourself in time, for my father has raised
the country, and it is not improbable that, before to-morrow,
you should have been all dead men.''
    ""I think we have been in greater jeopardies,'' said he: ""But
in the mean time keep up your disguise, that my comrades
may not discover your sex;--and we two must have some
private discourse during the night, for I have much to say to
you.
    ""Not I, master, I winna court ae word wi' a man in the
dress of a vulgar English boor; for it is sae hatefu' to me, I can
like nought that's within it. Ah me! I wot ill how it is; but I
think I hardly detest it sae sair already.''
    ""My bonny, haughty, pawkie, sweet Elizabeth!''  cried
Laidlaw.--But Isaac the curate says, that, being himself a
married man, he could not go on with all the overcharged
outrageous stuff that passed between these two fond lovers;
so he passes it over, as well as the conversation at their
evening meal, which Bess took care to make a plentiful and
savoury one; and in the mean time, she was in such high
spirits herself, that the troopers, who did not know her, took
the young man for the most swaggering puppy they had ever
seen. She challenged Sandy Pot to fight her with single rapier,
knowing well that Laidlaw would find some means of pre-
venting it; but it was evident that old Peter thought her
entirely out of her senses, for he tried to get her away from
about the house to the residence of one of the neighbouring
gentlemen yeomen for the night, but the experiment was
vain.
    When he saw such a goodly supper, or dinner, (for they
were both in one,) set down to these uncouth, and, to him,
unwelcome guests, he could not contain his chagrin, and at
first refused to turn out to the board, or partake with the rest.
But when he saw that the good fare would all go, he grew as
restless as if he had been sitting on pins, till Bess, who knew
his way, took him by the arm, and pretended to force him
jocularly out to the table. But Peter was not ill to force; for
in place of receding, he made all the haste into the head of the
board that he could, though at the same time always repeating,
""I tell ye, callant, it is downright wastery.'' He, however, plied
as good a knife and as good a horn-spoon as any of them all.
    While they were yet busily engaged at their meal, the
tramp of horses was heard approaching the door in a cautious
and uncertain manner, and by a circuitous way. The two dis-
guised maids (whom, by-the-by, we should distinguish by the
names of Sim and Jock, as they sustained these that night,)
were standing eating at the hall-dresser, behind the backs of
the troopers; and when the trampling was first heard, Jock
grew as pale as death, but Sim, who knew what guests were
within, which the other did not know, shewed a courage so
undaunted, that it appeared wonderful to all present, save
one, but to Jock in particular: ""O ho! The nearer night the
mae beggars,'' cried Sim. ""Who have we next?''
    ""That beats ought I ever heard in my life!'' exclaimed
Pate: ""I think the fock be gane distractedly mad! What brings
them a' here? Is there no another ha' house and pantry in the
hale country but mine? It is hard to be eaten out o' house
and hald wi' sorners and stravaegers this gate. May Liberton's
luck befa' the hale o' them. Callant Jock, set by that meat out
o' sight.'' ""Stop for a wee bit, an ye like, goodman,'' said
Bauldy Armstrong:  ""It is best aye to do ae thing afore
another.''
    ""By this time the dialogue had commenced in the court;
Simmy went briskly to the door by himself, and demanded
of the strangers who they were, and what they wanted? They
answered, with hesitation, that they supposed they had lost
their way, and requested to know who held the house, and
how it was called? ""The house is held by my father, a leel
Scottish yeoman,'' said the youth; ""and already full of strangers
to the door, as well as every stall of his stable with their
horses. Pass on your way, and peace be with you.'' ""Did I not
tell you we had <1lost>1 our way,'' said the first speaker, riding
up to the door. ""Pray, who are the strangers within? We
have lost a party of our friends.''
    ""The men are from the south, master: free-traders, they
may be called. Men of horns, hides, and hair, Sir. You, I
suppose, are of the same profession?'' ""Precisely of the same,''
said the stranger, alighting from his horse, and entering the
house.
    He was followed by other two, for there were but four in
all, and the fourth was a boy whom they left holding their
horses. When they came in upon Peter and his jolly hide-
merchants, they were visibly disappointed, and viewed the
grotesque-looking group with marked curiosity. These were
not the men they expected to have found, that was evident;
but perceiving their English habits, they ventured to address
them. They were answered in blunt cutting terms; for our
troopers knew them, although the disguise prevented their
being known again. Having learned the name of the house and
its owner, they began forthwith to inquire if any thing of a
young nobleman had been seen at that place, with such and
such attendants; for they had traced them to that very house,
they said, and if the possessors could give no account of them
they would be held as responsible. Old Peter said, there were
so many people came to that house, that it was impossible he
could tell a tale of one of them distinct from another; but
the intrepid Sim, knowing his back friends, told him the
whole story in a few words, and then asked them in turn
what they had to say concerning it.
    ""Whoy, I has joost to say this, young chap, that I am to
boond thee and all the faymilie, and carry you all to answer
before a meeting of the wardens.''
    ""Ay, and it is prwoper reyght and prwoper reason too,
that they should, friend,'' said Laidlaw, pretending to take
his part, to see what he would say. Will knew the three men
to be three notorious English thieves, of the set of the Halls
and Reids, and that they could not, in fact, be sent in search
of the Lady Jane Howard; but he could not divine their
motive for coming there, or making the inquiry; therefore
he took the Northumberland tongue as well as he could, and
encouraged them in conversation till a late hour. Yet he could
learn nothing; only he was sure they were come about no
good end. As for old Peter, when he saw two parties of
Englishmen come upon him, and heard that they laid their
heads together, he gave himself and all that he had up for
lost; and hoping to conciliate their favour in some measure, he
actually intreated these last comers to sit down and share of
the remnants of their supper, which they did in a right liberal
manner, while Peter went out and in to learn the news. He
found by this time nine men, well armed, assembled in the
barn, that had gathered from the neighbouring houses, whose
inhabitants were all bound to rise and assist one another on
any emergency. These were mostly old men or very young
ones, the flower of the Border districts being all in the
Warden's camp. Will likewise informed his sweetheart privately
of his suspicions; and perceiving that the strangers were ex-
tremely well mounted, and heavily armed, he desired her, if
possible, to find means of concealing their horses. This the
supposed Sim soon effected.  The boy still held them at
forage by the side of the old castle-wall; and he being
brought in, and set down to supper, some of those in the
barn were warned to take the horses quietly to the concealed
house up in the hollow burn. They were soon secured there;
and the thieves perceiving that no one left the house, never
had the smallest suspicion of any trick, the boy being fast
asleep behind the board. At length all of them grew drowsy,
and began to compose themselves to rest as they best could,
save two fond lovers, that were whispering their vows and
their secrets to each other in the little chamber mentioned in
a former part of this history.
    About midnight, when all was quiet, these two heard the
cry of <1Welhee! Welhee!>1 from a neighbouring mountain, which
in a short time was returned from two different places in the
valley.
    ""Now, I will lay my neck in wad,'' whispered Will to his
sweetheart, '"that there is a thief-raid to-night; and that these
three have either come here to watch you, or to cut your
throats in case of resistance; or perhaps they may have indeed
lost their party in the mist. But this I ken, neither a Reid
nor a Hall ever came thus far into Scotland for good. If the
fray rise, take you the command, and fear nothing. My friends
and I will defend you, and clear your way.''
    ""But what shall we do, dear Laidlaw, with these three
moss-troopers and the boy?''
    ""We must either slay or bind them the first thing we do,
or perhaps leave them to waddle to the hills in their armour
on foot the best way they can.''
    ""The maiden's heart trembled at the thoughts of what lay
before her; as for old Pate, he kept going out and in like a
restless spirit; and if he had not lost his daughter, and knew
not where she was, he proposed to have fastened doors and
windows, and burnt all the nine Englishmen where they lay,
for he had no faith in any of them, and weened them all
come for the purpose of ruining him. As he was going about
preparing matters for this laudable purpose, one of the
shepherd lads came with the fray, and related a dismal tale.
He said, that he and his companions had driven out all the
sheep and cattle to the heights among the mist, as they had
been commanded; that in the course of the evening they
heard many calls and whistles around them; and just as the
moon rose, a band of English thieves came round them, and
drove them all off towards Bilhope-head. Peter's assembled
friends advised him to take the skin-men's fifteen horses, and
what remained at home of his own, and ride off and try to
recover the prey, without alarming his dangerous guests; but
Peter was bent on fastening the doors, and burning them skin
and bone, for, he said, they would never get so easily quit of
them. The two anxious lovers hearing a bustle without,
opened the casement, and overheard a part of these per-
plexed words and reasonings. Then hastening out to join
counsel, they raised the fray openly. The heroic Sim flew to
horse, and desired all that were friends to the Scots to follow,
while Laidlaw addressed his compeers, saying, ""Up lads, and,
let us ride; our host must not be herried while we are under
his roof.''
    ""No, no!'' exclaimed the thieves, all in a breath; ""he must
not be herried and we under his roof;'' and no one appeared
in half such hurry as they were to mount and be gone.
    ""Stop short, my good fellows, till I speak with you for a
minute,'' said Laidlaw: ""Make me sure which side you will
take before you go, else one foot you stir not from that fire-
side. I know you for Anthony Reid of Whickhope, and those
for two of your cousins of Tersithead, and shrewdly suspect
you to be at the head of the foray.''
    Anthony drew his sword: so did Laidlaw. But the English
troopers were bold and desperate fellows: and before Laid-
law's friends could gather round him to his assistance, the
three having covered themselves with their bucklers, forced
their way out, back to back, and ran Sandy Pot through the
left shoulder, who pressed on them too rashly. When they
missed their horses, and saw that they were clean gone, they
foamed like as many furies, and, setting their backs to the
wall, swore they would fight it out. The combat might have
been attended with much bloodshed, had not all the people
rushed from the barn, and overpowered them. They were
then taken into the house and bound, while Pot and May
Chisholm, alias Jock, were left as guards on them, with orders
to kill the first that should offer to loose either himself or
any of his companions. This whole scene was quite beyond
Peter Chisholm's capacity. He could in nowise conceive how
the one party of Englishmen assisted with such energy in
detecting and binding the others. Still he was any thing but
satisfied; the matter having outgone his comprehension, as
well as that of all his associates, save one.
    They now mounted without delay, and rode with all manner
of speed toward the Pass of the Hermitage, by which path
they supposed the droves must necessarily proceed; and just
as they went down the Redcleuch, leading their horses, they
saw the cattle passing at the foot of it. The party amounted
scarcely to their own number; but the sheep-drivers were not
come in view; so they mounted their horses, and instantly
mixed with the men behind the drove, without offering to
stop the cattle. At the same time they placed a guard of two
farther behind, to prevent all intelligence from passing between
the two parties. When this was effected, Simmy challenged
the cattle as his father's, and desired the drivers to give them
up; but to this the captain of the gang, whose name was
Gabriel Reid, the younger brother of Anthony, and captain
in his absence, only mocked, imitating the sharp treble notes
of the petulant younker, and telling him that he would not
give them up for three score such men as <1he>1 was, else he was
better than he looked. As he said this, however, he kept a
curious eye on the rough exterior of the tall athletic English
peasants by whom the youth was surrounded, which Laidlaw
perceiving, accosted him in his feigned tone.
    ""Whoy, friend, we are countrymen of thee own, and know
thee full weel. Thou's Gabriel Reid of Trochend. But thee
billy Anty is taken prisoner this seame mworning, and if thou
disna gie up the kie, his head will be chappit off, as weel as
these of thee twa coosins the Ha's. Sae thou hast ney choice
left but to yield up thee ill gotten gain.''
    ""And what dog art thou, that takest part against thee own
countrymen?'' said Reid.
    ""Oo, I's a dealer in the leather line, as weel as all my friends
there. We have our free passages and warranty for the good of
both countries; but we are honest men, and by chance were
lodged in the house of the owner of these coos, and must see
joostice doone to him. I boond thee brwother with mee own
hands.''
    ""Then the devil bind thee, thou traitor knave! and for thee
reward, this to thy harnpan!'' said Gabriel, drawing out his
sword, and attacking Laidlaw without more ado. Will, who
was never backward at a brulzie, received the encounter with-
out flinching, and, calling for fair play and elbow-room, both
proceeded to decide the day by single combat, while the rest
drew aloof and looked on, encouraging them only with cheers
and applausive words.  Laidlaw was mounted on Anthony
Reid's gallant steed, which Gabriel remarked, and that added
to his rancour against the skin-man at least ten degrees. The
ground was exceedingly bad, so that they could not wheel for
weapon-space without a parley; but neither would ask it.
They fought close together, first with their sword-blades, and
afterwards, as their horses came in contact, they dashed each
other with their hilts. Both were slightly wounded, but Laid-
law rather had the worst of it. ""Beshrew thine heart, if thou
hast been a skin-merchant all thy life,'' said Gabriel, as he
turned his horse in the path for another encounter. They had
now changed sides, and this encounter was longer and more
inveterate than the first. Laidlaw not being quite master of his
mighty and furious steed, was twice in imminent danger, losing
his broad slouched hat in the struggle, the crown of which
was cross-barred with steel.
    Poor Sim had changed colours ten times since the combat
began;and, on seeing this last struggle, he lost all command of
bimself, and rushed with his sword drawn to Laidlaw's rescue.
<1Himself,>1 did I say? alas, no one knew the true sex, save her
lover, and no one interfered till she was met by an English
trooper half-way, who unhorsed and wounded her with as
much ease, of course, as she had been a child. Will's eye
caught the first glance of her, as she was falling, and galloping
up to the rescue, bare-headed as he was, he clove the trooper's
burgonet, and slew him at the first stroke. Reid followed him
up; but Laidlaw's spirit, now fully proportioned to the high
mettle of his steed, was a match for any thing. He rode against
his antagonist with all his fury, and having the advantage of
the brae, overthrew horse and man, and galloped over them.
Then throwing himself from his horse, and seizing the forlorn
warrior by the throat, called out with a voice of fury,--""Rescue
or no rescue?'' ""No rescue! Redsdale to the fray!'' was the
resolute and fatal reply. Will could not stand to reason any
more at that time, so, without more ado, he ran him through
the body, and flew to the rescue of his beloved and heroic
Elizabeth, for there the combat began to thicken. She was
on her feet ere he arrived, and well guarded, and, mounting
her palfrey, she bade her lover head the fray, and pay no
regard to her, for she was nothing the worse. He, however,
saw the blood upon her bassonet, and was roused to perfect
fury. The battle now became general; but it was no regular
engagement, being scattered here and there through all the
drove--some fought before the cattle, some behind them, and
some in the middle. It was reported, that at one time there
were fifteen single combats all going on at the same instant.
Therefore, to have been an engagement on a small scale, it
proved a very bloody one, many being slain and wounded on
both sides. But the tremendous skin-merchants bore down all
before them wherever they went. These were inured to battle,
while the thieving moss-troopers, as well as the hinds on the
Scottish side, were only used to desultory warfare. The bare-
headed leather-merchant, in particular, was a dismal sight to
the forayers, for having soon rid himself of his first anta-
gonists, he continued galloping about the field wherever he
saw two engaged, and cut down all of the adverse party as he
went, or rode them down, giving, with every stroke, a hard
grin and a grunt. The men thought the devil was come among
them, or else that he had fairly taken possession of a skin-
merchant; and, giving up the contest, a few of them tried to
escape by flight, which they did by quitting their horses, and
gaining some inaccessible ground. The drivers of the sheep
likewise made their escape, for they found the droves deserted
in the Hope. The weakest of the men having been left behind
with them, they had come in view of the field of combat, and,
marking how it terminated, had sped them away out of
danger.
    Chisholm's party brought home five prisoners with them,
twelve English horses well caparisoned, and all the prey, save
one ox that Will Laidlaw had ridden over and slain in the
plentitude of his wrath. The Scots had no fewer than nine
killed and grievously wounded out of their small party, of
whom one of the latter was the brave and lovely Bess Chisholm,
who was so faint, that Will was obliged to carry her all the
way home on his horse before him, clasped to his bosom, he
not failing to kiss her pallid cheek many a time by the way,
while all the rest wondered at Laidlaw's great concern about
the youth. When Peter saw his child borne into the house pale
and wounded, he lost all recollection of the secret of her sex,
and cried out ""O my poor Bess! my dear daughter! What had
I ado making a man of thee! Thy blood is on thy old father's
head. Alas, for my beloved daughter!''
    ""Daughter!'' exclaimed they all again and again, ""Daughter!''
re-echoed Will Laidlaw, as if he had not known well before.
""Daughter?'' cried the skin-men: ""Have we then been led to
the field by a maid? Shame on our heads that suffered the
overthrow! against the rules of chivalry as her attempt was!
Alas, for the gallant and high spirited young dame!''
    They put her to bed, and dressed her wounds, and from all
appearances had high hopes that she was more afraid and
fatigued than hurt. She soon fell into a quiet slumber, in
which they left her, and retired to take some refreshment, and
talk over their morning's adventure. It turned out as suggested,
that their three prisoners were the three chief men of the gang,
who had completely lost themselves and all traces of their
companions among the mist; and having heard a report of
the seizure formerly made at that place, they cunningly
tried to pass themselves off as messengers sent in search of the
lost travellers. If they had been with their own party, that
would have proved an overmatch for the Chisholms. The
Reids and Halls had been herried of their whole live stock
by the Warden's people, and learning that the greater part of
it was driven up into these mountains, they naturally wanted
to make some reprisals and recover their own again. Had it
not been for their misfortune in separating, and the exertions
of the gallant hide-men, they would have effected their purpose
with the utmost ease. It proved a luckless raid for them, for
they lost all their horses, the greater part of their men, and
the chief, squire Anthony, and six of his friends, were sent
prtsoners to the castle of Mountcomyn.
    The country people at Chisholm's board were loud in
praise of the skin-men, and of their trusty and gallant be-
haviour; in particular, they averred that Laidlaw had killed
the half of the thieves with his own hand, for that he rode
about the field like a resistless angel, destroying all before
him. When Peter heard that he fought so valiantly for the
recovery of his stock, and regained his darling daughter's
life, his heart warrned toward him, and he bid him ask any
thing he chose that was in his power to give, and he should
not be said nay. Will at once asked the maid whose life he had
saved for his wife. Peter hesitated, and said it was hard to
bestow the flower of all the Chisholms on a English skin-
merchant, a man who seemed to have neither house nor name,
or was ashamed to own them. However, as he had proved him-
self a warrior and a hero, Peter consented, provided the maid
grew better, and was herself satisfied with the match. Will said
he asked her on no other terms, and went ben to see her before
he departed. She was still sound asleep, or pretended to be so;
therefore, unwilling to disturb her, he breathed a blessing
over her, and impressed two or three warm affectionate kisses
on her lips. As he came away he felt a slight pressure of her
arms around his neck.
    When Sandy Pot learned that the lovely youth with whom
he had watched the prisoners all the night and morning of the
battle was a maid, and the younger sister of his gallant friend
Dan, Sandy's wound grew so ill that he could not be removed,
so he remained where he was, and the other four went off
with their uncouth loading. They found Dan Chisholm at
Hawick waiting for them in the utmost impatience, having
collected no fewer than twenty horse-loads of hides, every
one of them in size like a hay-stack; and away the motely
train marched and joined the Warden on the night after his
arrival before the walls of Roxburgh.
                  CHAPTER XXVIII

                So they shot out and they shot in,
                  Till the morn that it was day,
                When mony o' the Englishmen
                  About the draw-brigg lay;
                When they hae yoket carts and wains,
                  To ca' their dead away,
                And shot auld dikes aboon the lave,
                  In gutters where they lay.
                                    <1Ball. of Old Mettlin.>1

THE expedition of the Douglas against Musgrave is, like the
innumerable Border battles of that reign, only shortly mention-
ed by historians; and although it was a notable encounter,
and is detailed by Isaac at great length, it lies out of our way
here. Let it suffice that they skirmished cautiously for two
days with various success, and at last came to an engagement
on a field right opposite to the junction of the Tweed and
Gala. After a hard fought battle, Douglas' left wing was dis-
comfitted; and just as he was arranging his force so as to
cover the retreat, an unaccountable confusion was noted
among the English ranks, which seemed to be engaged anew,
with one another, there being no other army nigh. Douglas,
recalling his routed squadrons, faced about, but advanced with
caution, till he saw Musgrave's army broken and flying in all
directions. This gallant feat was accomplished by a Sir John
Gordon, who was on his way with seven hundred fresh men
to the assistance of Douglas; and as he came on the English
ranks behind at that important crisis, he broke them at the
first onset, and took Sir Thomas Musgrave prisoner with his
own hand.
  Thus far the affairs of Douglas wore the aspect of prosperity
--but a settled gloom hung over his mind; an oppression of
spirits was apparent in every sentence that he uttered and
every plan he suggested, and these were far from being traits
of his wonted disposition. But the monk Benjamin had been
with him again and again!--had been harrassing his soul with
commissions and messages from the mansions of the dead;
and one night he heard the voice of his lost and dearly
regretted princess, speaking to him in his tent, as it were out
of the canvas. Still the most solemn injunctions of secrecy
were imposed on him, insomuch that he deemed himself
not at liberty to open his mind to any one. Besides all this,
the disconsolate Mary Kirkmichael had been constantly
lingering nigh to him, and always presenting herself in the
utmost agony of mind, to make enquiries about her royal
mistress. That lady's appearance became so terrible to him
that he was unable to bear it, and gave strict charges that she
should not be suffered to come within the limits of his
camp. But for all that, availing herself of her rank and her
sex's privilege, she forced her way to him several times, and
at every visit filled his soul with the most racking torments;
so that, harrassed with <1war>1 as he was, he found this his first
intercourse with <1women,>1 attended with ten times more dis-
tracting and grievous perils than the former. While, on the
other hand, the heroes that visited the castle of Aikwood, even
those who escaped, not including the wretched victims who
remained behind, discovered, to their dear bought experience,
that there were perils in nature infinitely superior to both.
   It is now absolutely necessary to shorten the curate's
narrative, to prevent this work running to an inordinate
length; and though two of his tales have been left out already,
the great events that follow must also be related in a style
abbreviated, though not mangled by indistinctness.
   After the intrepid Lord Musgrave had sacrificed his own
life in order to save those of his only brother and the lady
of his love, Clavering was unanimously chosen captain in his
room, and every soldier took a new oath to him to die in
defence of the fortress. The commission of which he accepted
was a dismal one; but he entered into all the feelings of the
famished inmates in their hatred of the Scots, and implacable
enmity against them,--therefore, he was the very man for
their purpose.
  Every attempt of the besiegers to scale the walls of the
castle, or to gain an entrance by fraud or force, had hitherto
proved utterly abortive; the determined sons of England
laughed at them, regarding them in no other light than as
freaks of mere insanity, or the gambols of children. The
fortress was impregnable with such heroes within, had they
been supplied with sufficient stores of food and of arrows,
both of which had long been exhausted; and though a small
and welcome supply of the former had been obtained during
the tempest and the flood which followed, for which they
were obliged to the devil and Master Michael Scott, yet, like
all the benefits derived from that quarter, it proved rather
more hurtful than advantageous, for they devoured it with
such avidity that the distemper, with which they had formerly
been visited, broke out among them with greater violence
than ever. Yet disregarding all these privations, which a looker-
on would suppose might naturally tend to break the human
heart and daunt the resolution of the boldest,--with famine
and pestilence both staring them in the face,--they bound
themselves by a new and fearful oath never to yield the
fortress to the Scots while a man of them remained alive.
Every new calamity acted but as a new spur to their resolution;
and their food being again on the very eve of exhaustion,
their whole concern was how to procure a new supply. Not
that they valued their own lives or their own sufferings,--
these had for a good while been only a secondary consider-
ation,--but from the excruciating dread that they should die
out, and the Scots attain possession of the fortress before
Christmas.
   The warders soon noted the alteration that had taken
place in the beleaguering army. They perceived the ground
that had formerly been occupied by the Angus men, and the
Mar Highlanders, now taken up by the tall, athletic, and care-
less looking borderers, against whom they found their anti-
pathy was not so mortal: and they had some surmisings of
what really was the case, that a strong diversion had been
made in their favours, that had drawn off their inveterate
and hateful enemy Douglas from the siege. Every hour con-
vinced them farther of the truth of this suggestion; for they
perceived a laxness in the manner of conducting the blockade
which they had not witnessed for many days, and all their
conversation turned on the manner in which they ought to
avail themselves of it. The carelessness of the besiegers them-
selves, or something subordinate thereto, soon furnished an
opportunity to them of putting their policy once more to the
test, and that by an adventure the most ardently desired. On
the second day after the departure of Douglas the warder on
the topmost tower perceived, on a rising ground two miles
to the southward, about thirty head of cattle, that came
gradually in view as a wing of a large drove might be supposed
to do; and after they had fed for some time there, two men
came before them and chased them back out of sight of the
castle, as if a great oversight had been committed by letting
them come in view of it. Notice of this important discovery
was instantly given to the captain, and the news spreading
among the garrison, many a long and longing look was cast
from the battlements and loopholes of the high western
tower that day. They were not cast in vain. Just toward the
fall of evening they perceived a part of the drove appear again
only a very short space from the castle, and they likewise
perceived by their colours that they were a drove of English
beasts which had been brought from their native pastures by
the strong hand of rapine, for the supply of this new come
border army. They perceived likewise that they approached
the army by a concealed way, that the two glances they got
of them were merely casual, and that they were very slightly
guarded.
   A council of war was immediately called, in which it was
agreed, without one dissentient voice, that the garrison should
make a sham sally at the eastern drawbridge, as if with intent
to gain the city, in order that they might draw the attention
of the besiegers to that point; and in the meantime the
captain, with the choicest of the men were to march out by
Teviot-bridge, of which the garrison had necessarily the sole
possession, and endeavour to seize the prey. Thence they
were to proceed westward, and try to elude the enemy's
posts, or give them battle, if the former were found to be
impracticable; but at all events, either to die or succeed in
attaining that valuable supply, or a part of it. The success of
the contest now turned on that single point as on a pivot; the
balance was against them, but, that turned in their favours by
an exertion of warrior prowess, they could then reckon on a
complete triumph over their unappeasable foes.
   Besides, every thing seemed to concur in support of their
gallant expedition. The nights were dark even beyond their
usual darkness at that gloomy season, and the moon did not
arise till two in the morning. Both these circumstances were
in their favour,--the one in attaining possession of the prey
unperceived, and the other in enabling them to fight their
way home; for they knew that though they themselves might
pass the strong Scottish posts favoured by the deep darkness,
still it was impossible to bring the drove through them, and
along the bridge, without a hard skirmish. The captain, there-
fore, gave command to the division left behind, that the more
noise they heard of an engagement about the bridge of Teviot,
and the gate toward the west, the more they should press
their battle eastward, to divert the strength of the army to
that quarter. Because on that side the Scots could make no
impression, and the English could lose nothing there save a
few lives, which they accounted of small avail; but if the
expedition to the west failed, their cause was finally ruined.
   That was a busy evening within the walls of Roxburgh,
while all was quietness and indifference without. Within
there was arming and disarming, for the suits of armour that
once fitted these emaciated warriors would not now hang on
their frames. There was grinding of swords, pointing of
spears and ox-goads, and even the slaughter-houses of the
fort were cleared, with a provident concern seldom over-
looked by Englishmen; and at eleven o'clock at night, by the
convent matin bell, Clavering, with five hundred chosen men,
well armed, issued silently from the garrison, creeping along
the Teviot-bridge on their hands and knees. From that they
proceeded westward in the most profound silence, and so
close by the Scottish posts, that they heard them breathing
and conversing together. One party crept up all the way
within the water-brae, and the other, led by Clavering him-
self, past through between two Scottish posts, drawing them-
selves along the ground close on their breasts, and once or
twice were obliged to squat close down, and lie silent for a
considerable space, while the following dialogue passed be-
tween the sentinels.
   ""Od, Sandie Scott, think ye it can be true that the English
are eating ane another?''
   ""There's nae doubt o't. I hear that they're snapping up
five o' the fattest o' their number every day. They will eat
themsels out bit by bit that gate.''
   ""Aih wow, man! I wad rather die o' hunger than pick the
banes of ane acquaintance. Bursten devils, that they are!''
   ""Aha, Sandie, billie, ye dinna ken till ye be tried. A man
will do ought or he die o' hunger. An do you ken, Sandie Scott I
think our captain has done wrang in bringing sae mony fat
bullocks a' sae near the castle at ae time. Thae hungered louns
will hae a haud o' some o' them, and maybe cut a wheen o'
our throats into the bargain, some o' thir dark nights.''
   ""Now, ye see neighbour, I ken sae weel that our master
never does the sma'est thing without some design, that I
think he wants to wile out the English, and then kill them;
and that he has brought a' thir braw stots o'er the border,
just on the same principle that a fisher throws a bait into the
water.''
   ""Na, na, Sandie, that canna be the case, for he has gi'en
strict orders that no ane o' them be suffered to come within
sight o' the castle. He just thinks the beasts canna be sae safe
ony where else as beside himsel' and his lads. But hunger has
sharp een, and I wadna wonder if this drove should lead to
some hard tulzie.''
   ""Whisht! Godsake, haud your tongue! What's that I hear?''
   ""The English, I'll warrant you. If hunger hae clear een,
fear has unco lang lugs. What was it that Sandie heard?''
   ""I heard a kind o' rubbing and thristing, as a fox or a
foumart had been drawing himsel through a hole aneath the
ground. Hilloa! What guard?''
   ""Howpasley and Gemelscleugh.''
   ""Watch weel. There's something stirring.''
   ""Not a mouse.''
   ""So say the sleeping foresters; but I can tell you, men o'
Gemelscleuch and Howpasley, an there be nought stirring
aboon the ground, the moudies are very busy aneath it the
night. Clap close, and keep an ee on the withergloom. I had
a heavy dream at nightfa', and I'm resolved no to close an ee.
Come, neighbour, tell a tale, or say a rhame to keep us
wauking.''
   ""Have ye heard the new ballant made by the rhiming
dominie o' Selchrit, the queerest thing ever was heard? It
begins this gate:

              The Devil he sat in Dornock tower,
              And out at a slip-hole keekit he,
              And he saw three craws come yont the lift,
                 And they winged their flight to the Eildon tree.
              O whow, O whow, quo the muckle deil,
             But yon's a sight that glads my ee,
              For I'll lay the steel-brander o' hell
                 There's a storm a-brewing in the west countrye.''

                     ** * * * * * * * *

   ""Whisht, for heaven's sake! I heard the tod again, Hilloa!
Gemelscleuch to the glaive! Have lug and hawk e'e, or there'll
be news afore the morn that's unheard tell o' yet.''
   ""And that there will!  Saint David be with us! and the
blessed Saint Mary, the mother of God, be with us! Hist
havering, say Benedicite.''
   At that instant a sharp breeze arose which drowned the
noise, and Clavering and his men passed fairly by on their
perilous expedition. Beyond the next hollow they found the
cattle all lying puffing and dozing on a round hill. An immense
drove of them there seemed to be, for the hill appeared to be
literally covered, but the night was as dark as pitch, and they
could see nothing distinctly. Clavering gave his commands in
a whisper to his chief men, to surround the whole drove, and
drive them furiously, that by these means they might throw
the enemy's lines into confusion. ""We have the advantage of
the ground,'' said he; ""the bridge is clear, and the gates open.
Let us play the men for once, and our difficulties are all over.
Providence has favoured us beyond what could have been
calculated on. Our force is superior to that of our enemies on
this side the river. On whatever side our column is attacked,
let us keep a running fight, so as to push on and preserve the
prey, and the day is our own: And now, Saint Anthony for
the right!''
   The men then formed themselves into a crescent behind the
cattle six-line deep, and with club, goad, and spear pushed
them on. There were a few dour lazy driving runts behind
that bore all the thumps, but the bulk were high-spirited, and
galloped off on the path toward Roxburgh with the utmost
fury, insomuch that the delighted drivers never got a sight of
them. They broke through the Scottish lines without either
stop or stay. The alarm was instantly given, but a night
muster is always attended with some delay. So the English
thought,--so they said; and to their great joy they found their
suggestions realized; for not till the last cow was past the
strong line of posts on the height were they attacked by the
Scots. But then, indeed the Gemelscleuch and Howpasley
men set upon them with unparallelled fury, and being every
five minutes joined by more of their companions, they pressed
hard upon the English, who, being obliged to keep up a re-
treating battle, fell thick on the brae beyond the bridge. The
brave and judicious Longspeare himself led the attack, and
behaved like a lion; for though wounded in three different
places of the body, he fought in the front of the main battle
all that night.
  The Scots, to the utter amazement of their enemies, never
once offered to stop the cattle, but merely attacking the
English crescent behind, drove them and cattle and all to-
wards the bridge. This Clavering and his chief men attributed
wholly to the surprise by which the Scots were taken; and
when the former saw the dark column of cattle take the
bridge, he thanked the God of heaven, the blessed Virgin, and
all the saints whose names were known to him, for such a
wonderful success and merciful deliverance. The English host
then raised such a shout of triumph that the echoes called
from the castled towers to the forest, and from the forest to
the distant rocks. The Scots soon joined in it with equal en-
thusiasm; and the two main armies then engaged at the eastern
gate, also joined their voices to the general chorus. The gray
friars of Roxburgh, and the Benedictine monks of Kelso,
raised their heads from their flinty pillows, committed them-
selves to heaven, and deplored the madness and folly of the
men of the world. The city dames wept and prayed, and the
men ran to head-quarters to learn the cause of the uproar.
The sounds were actually heard in the camp of Douglas, at
the distance of sixteen miles; and when this was reported to
him next morning, he said, ""There was the Redhough on the
ramparts of Roxburgh!''
  But man's thoughts are vanity! He cannot judge of events
so as to calculate on what is to happen from one moment to
another: incidents of the slightest moment so often having
the effect of overturning the greatest and most momentous
enterprizes. Never was there one so nearly overturned as this,
although it was not once thought of till afterwards,--and it
was on this wise: There was a strong guard of English placed
at the south end of the bridge, to guide the foremost of the
drove on to it, or help to cut a way for the cattle through such
troops as might interpose. The cattle, as was said, came
galloping furiously without intervention, and, as if led by an
unseen providence, took the bridge with all their vigour, the
battle being then raging behind them, and the shouts beginning
to rend the sky. This guard had nothing to do, of course, but
to open into two lines, and give them head. But at the end of
the bridge there was a deep puddle, and among the men there
chanced to be a little boy, who was running about and thrash-
ing the cattle as they went through this puddle, which made
them spring up the arch with redoubled velocity, which the
urchin thought good sport. But in the midst of this frolic
he bolted away at once with such velocity that he had almost
overthrown one of the men in the file, and as he ran he cried
out, ""Lord, saw ever ony mortal the like o' that?'' ""What was
it, rash idiot?'' said the man. ""Grace and mercy, man, did you
not see how yon great black stott stood straight up on his
hind legs and waded the pool?'' said the boy. ""Take that to
clear your eyes, impertinent brat,'' said the man, and gave him
a blow with his fist that made him run away howling and cry-
ing, always repeating as he went, ""I'll tell your captain,--
now! 'at will I that--now!''
   The combat behind the cattle thickened apace. The English
were sore borne down on the hill, but when they came to the
little plain at the bridge-end they stood firm, and gave as hard
blows as they got. They had fairly gained their aim, and their
spirits, so long depressed, mounted to an unusual height. The
last lingering hoof of the whole countless drove was now on
the arch, and they could calculate on holding out the fortress
against their hated foes not only till Christmas, but till that
time twelvemonth. Their shouts of joy were redoubled. So
also were those of the Scots. ""The people are mad!'' said
they, ""thus to shout for their own loss and their own defeat. It
is a small trait of the cursed perversity of the whole nation!''
  The English narrowed their front and narrowed their
front still as their files found room on the arch of the bridge,
which was long and narrow, and very steep at the south end,
that rose directly from the plain. But the road up to the
castle by the two tremendous iron gates was likewise exceed-
ingly steep, and went by a winding ascent, so that the latter
end of the drove, those dull driving ones that bore all the
strokes, got very slowly up, and with great difficulty. There
was a guard of considerable strength left in this gateway by
Clavering, lest any attempt should be made by the enemy to
enter in his absence. But these men had strict charges to
clear the way for the cattle, and help to drive the foremost
ones up the steep. The fore part of the drove however came up
the steep with such main fury, that the men were glad to
clear a way for them, by flying out of the path, up to the
citadel. There was not a man left in the gateway, save two at
each of the iron portcullises, and these stood in deep niches
of the wall, out of all danger. Each of these men held the end
of a chain that was twisted round an immense bolt in the
wall,--and these bolts, Isaac says, are to be seen sticking to
this day. On untwisting this chain the portcullises fell down,
and when they were to raise up it was done with levers. Well,
as the two outermost men stood in their niches, holding by
the ends of their chains, they observed, that two of the oxen
that first came in, nay the very first two that came in, turned
round their ugly heads, leaned their sides to the wall, and
kept in their places, the one on the one side and the other on
the other, till the whole drove passed them. The men could
not move from their posts to drive them on with the rest,
but they wondered at the beasts; and the one cried to the
other, ""What can ail them two chaps?'' ""O them are two
tired ones,'' said the other: ""Dom them for two ugly monsters!
they look as them hod been dead and roosen again.''
  At length, by dint of sore driving and beating, the last
hoof of the Warden's choice drove passed inward through the
castle gate of Roxburgh, for the maintenance of his irascible
enemies. Could any thing be so unfortunate? or how was he
to set up his face, and answer to the Douglas now? But the
Redhough was determined that he would set up his face and
answer to the Douglas and his country too, as well as to his
kinsmen and followers, whom he valued highest of all. Just
as the last lazy cow crossed the gate, and when the triumphant
shouts of the English were at the loudest, the two great
lubberly oxen that stood shaking their ugly heads, and leaning
against the wall, ripped up their own bellies; and out of two
stuffed hides two most ingenious cases, started up two no
less men than Sir Ringan Redhough and his doughty friend
Charlie Scott of Yardbire. Off went the heads of the two
porters in one moment, and down came the portcullis with
a thundering rattle, and a clank that made the foundations of
the gate shake. ""Now, southron lads, haud ye there!'' cried
the Redhough: ""Time about is fair play. Keep ye the outside
o' the door threshold as lang as ye hae gart us keep it.''
   They next went up and seized the other two porters, whom
they saved alive, to teach them how to bolt, bar, open, and
shut the gates; but the men had taken the oaths with the rest,
and remained obstinate. No threatening could make them
move either finger or tongue except in mockery, which pro-
voked the Redhough so that he despatched them likewise.
On reaching the great square the Warden found his men in
peaceable possession. Six score brave chosen men had entered
among the cattle, each in a stuffed ox or cow hide, and had
now like their captain cast their sloughs, and stood armed at
all points to execute his commands. They found nothing to
do, save a prodigious difficulty in working their way from the
western to the eastern gate. There were so many turnings
and windings; so many doors and wickets; so many ascents
and descents,--that an army might have gained possession of
one end and yet have been kept out of the other for years.
But the surprise here was so complete, that the Borderers
had in fact nothing to do but to keep the possession, thus
obtained in so easy and at the same time so gallant a style.
The shouts that arose from the western battle had so much
encouraged those at the eastern gate, that they had sallied
out, and attacking the besiegers sword in hand, had driven
them back within their strong line of defence. This retreat
was a part of the plan of the Scots, to draw off the remaining
force from the gate, and while they were in the hottest of
the skirmish, down came Redhough and his lads from the
interior of the castle behind them, cut down the few guards
about the entrance and the draw-bridge with ease, and having
raised that, and shut the double gates on that quarter like-
wise, he placed the Armstrongs there as a guard, and returned
into the interior, still uncertain what enemies he had to com-
bat within.
   This mighty fortress was, from the one drawbridge to the
other, a full quarter of a mile in length, walled and moated
round, and contained seven distinct square or castles, every
one of which was a fortress of itself. But the strongest of all
was the division on the western part, which was denominated
the citadel, and had gates and bars of its own, and towers
that rose far above the rest. Into this strong place the sole
remnant of the English soldiers had retreated, which consisted
merely of the guard that kept the western porch and made
way for the cattle, a few stragglers beside, and some official
people that kept always within. Through every other part of
the castle the Scots found free passage; and by the time the
moon had been risen for an hour, the shouts of ""A Douglas!
a Douglas! a Redhough! a Redhough! '' were heard from
every part of the walls, excepting the western tower. There
indeed a faint and subdued shout announced at intervals
the name of the King of England, for it was now no more
a Musgrave! and as for Clavering they wist not whether
he was dead or alive, taken or at liberty.
   When the first ranks of the Englishmen that came up
behind the cattle saw the gates shut against them, they took
it for some accident, or some mistake that the porters had
fallen into, on listening to the shouts of the adverse parties:
but after calling and remonstrating to no purpose, they began
to suspect that there was treason at the bottom of it, and
the whisper of treason spread among that part of the forces
which was now forced against the gate. They could do
nothing; for they neither had room to fight nor fly, and they
knew not whom to suspect, or what had befallen them. As for
those at the farther end of the bridge, they were so hotly
engaged with their opponents, that they had little time to
consider any thing; but finding themselves fixed to the spot,
and no movement making toward the gate, they conceived
that something there was wrong, which retarded the regular
entrance of the troops for so long a time. They now fought
only three to three abreast on the steep arch of the bridge,
down which the English drove the Scots six or seven times,
the latter always returning to the charge with that vigour
which a certainty of success inspires. Clavering fought them
in the rear, and in the hottest of the battle still encouraging
his men to deeds of desperate valour, little weening how
matters went within. But when the names of the Scottish
chiefs were resounded from the walls, every heart among the
English was chilled, and every arm unnerved in one instant.
They had no conception how the thing could have happened;
it appeared so far beyond all human power to have effected
it, that it was several hours before it gained general credit
among them. They had kept the fortress so long, with so
little dread of its being wrested from them, and withal
suffered so much in it, that they could not believe the evidence
of their senses, that by a course of events entirely of their
own planning, they should be all without the walls, and the
Scots within. It was like a work of enchantment. Like some
of the last inconveivable works of the spirits of divination.
   The Scots could make no impression on them upon that
long narrow bridge; but they could not long stand cooped up
there; and when they saw that all hope was lost of regaining
entrance, they threw themselves over a high parapet, and
took possession of the steep bank between the bottom of the
southern wall and the river Teviot. The river being dammed
below, it stood like a frith round the bottom of this bank,
which was so steep that they could not stand on it, but were
obliged to clamber alongst it on their hands and feet. Escape
being impracticable, the Scots suffered them to take possession
of that bank undisputed, and to keep it, supposing they must
surrender next day; but a great number were slain before the
latter end of the train was disentangled of the bridge.
   The Scots had now free access to the gate, into which
Gemelscleuch and Howpasley were admitted. The Warden
embraced them, and thanked them for their wise counsel, as
well as their great bravery; and they again set about traversing
and surveying the fortress, concerning which Charlie Scott
said, ""It wad tak a man a year and a day to find out a' the
turnings and windings about it.''
   The battle at the eastern draw-bridge had continued from
midnight without intermission; and after the break of day
our chiefs witnessed a scene from the walls that was without
a parallel. That division of the Scots army was composed
of Douglas' men, being the same troops that were there before,
and they were commanded by Sir James Douglas of Dalkeith.
That knight got private intelligence of the Warden's intention
to storm the castle, by what means he knew not, but resolved
to hold himself in readiness; and, as he was desired, when the
sortie was made, he retreated at first, drawing them off from
the gate. When the cry arose that the castle was taken, his
men became frantic with joy, and resolute on taking ample
vengeance on their enemies, they burst upon them without
regularity, making great havock, and at the same time throw-
ing away many of their own lives. Sir James with great
difficulty restrained them, called a parley, and offered the
expelled garrison quarter; but they returned for answer, that
they weened he had called the parley to ask quarter of them,
and they had determined to refuse it. They concluded by
telling him to see to himself, and insult them no more by
such messages, for as yet he knew not with whom he was
warring. The battle was then renewed by the light of the
moon with greater fury then ever; they fought like baited
bears, with recklessness of life and the silence of death.
Deadly hate was in every thrust, and the last words of every
falling warrior were, ""Have at them yet.''
   When the day light arose, the English fought within a
semicircular wall of mangled carcasses; for, grievous to relate,
they were not corpses; yet were they piled in a heap higher
than a man's height, which was moving with agonized life
from top to bottom, and from the one end to the other; for
the men having all fallen by sword wounds, few of them were
quite dead. The English were now reduced to a small number,
yet, in the strife, their ardour seemed to prevail over that of
their opponents. The Border chiefs, inured as they were to
war, stood amazed, and even shocked, at the scene presented
to their view. Yardbire was the first to deprecate it in these
words' ""Gude faith, Sirs, it strikes me, that this is rather
carrying war to an extremity.''
   ""Rescue! rescue!'' shouted the Warden: ""Give quarter to
these men for my sake. I will pay their ransom myself.''
  When the Douglas' vassals heard this, they lowered the
points of their swords, and drew back from the slaughter,
commanding the English to ground their weapons. The latter
consulted together for a few minutes, and void of all dread,
save that of being obliged to submit to the Scots, they broke
with one consent over the pile of human bodies, and, carrying
destruction before them, opened a way into the middle of the
Scottish columns; nor ceased they fighting until every man of
them was cut down. The rest of the English army were in a
fold. Escape was impossible. Ten men could have prevented
it on all sides, yet for a whole day and night did they hold
their tenure of that perpendicular bank, although before the
evening many were losing their holds, and rolling into the
river from exhaustion. Then the sudden immersion arousing
them somewhat from their torpor, scores of them might be
seen at a time crawling to the side of the water, and endeavour-
ing to clamber once more up the bank; but at last they sunk
back into the deep, and their last breath arose to the surface
in small chains of fetid air bubbles. No one knew what be-
came of the young and intrepid Clavering,--at what time, or
in what place he fell; and without a head as these men were,
it was not till the second morning, when the breath of
revenge had cooled, and after much expostulation on the
part of the conquerors, that the wretched remnant yielded
themselves prisoners of war, and were all suffered to depart
on their parole, with high encomiums on their valour. But
these commendations were received with the gall of bitter-
ness; and none of them could tell, when they went home,
how or by what means they were expelled.
   The Warden and his men now set themselves with all their
endeavour to take the citadel; and, feebly as it was defended,
it cost them no little trouble. It is probable that it might have
held out a few days longer, but when Douglas and his army
were seen approaching on their return from the battle, the
impatience of the Borderers could be no longer restrained;
and Yardbire, with a remnant of his Olivers, Potts, and
Laidlaws, scaled the wall in the faces of the enemy, who
had scarcely power left to cleave a head without a helmet,
and throwing themselves into the square, became masters
of the gate in a few minutes; so that before Douglas reached
the top of the hill of Barns, his colours were placed on
the topmost tower of the citadel.
  It may easily be conceived with what joy, wonder, and
admiration he gazed on this phenomenon. Joy that his
broad lands and possessions were thus insured to him, of
which for some time past he scarcely retained a hope; and
admiration how that indefatigable chief had accomplished,
in a few days, that which he had exerted himself in vain to
accomplish for the space of as many months. The idea of
being so far outdone in policy was without doubt somewhat
bitter to the palate of a Douglas, for never till this day can
they brook a competitor in the field; but, considering how
matters stood, it would have been the worst of policy to
have let such a feeling appear. Douglas therefore testified
the highest satisfaction, extolling the Warden's head to con-
ceive and hand to accomplish, in terms such as he had never
been heard to utter.  ""Glorious Redhough! unparallelled
Redhough!'' exclaimed he again and again: ""Thou and thy
lads are the men to trust.''
  The chief received him at the castle gate, welcoming him
in jocular terms of high chivalry to the castle of Roxburgh,
which he took care always to denominate ""my castle.'' This
was soon noted by the Douglas; and as soon as they entered
the governor's house in the citadel, Douglas made over to
him, by regular deeds and instruments, the seven first baronies
he chose to name. This document, together with the royal
charters confinning it, is extant, and in the possession of one
of the Warden's lineal descendants at this day. On receiving
this grant, signed, sealed, and witnessed, Sir Ringan delivered
over the keys of the castle to the Earl of Douglas and Mar,
and the two exchanged seats at the table. Douglas also con-
ferred the honours of knighthood on Charlie Scott, Simon
Longspeare, and John of Howpasley; while Sir Ringan be-
stowed one of his new baronies on each of these brave
gentlemen in support of their new dignities, burdened only
with a few additional servitudes. On his right hand hero, the
hereditary claimant of the post of honour, he conferred the
barony of Raeburn and Craik, that he might thenceforward
be the natural head of his hard-headed Olivers and skrae-
shankit Laidlaws. To Longspeare he gave Temadale; and to
Howpasley, Phingland and Langshaw. When Charlie first rose
from his knee, and was saluted as Sir Charles Scott of Raeburn
and Yardbire he appeared quite cast down, and could not
answer a word. It was supposed that his grateful heart was
overcome with the thought that the reward bestowed on him
by his generous chief had been far above his merits.
  The news of the capture were transmitted to court with all
expedition; on which King Robert returned word, that he
would, with his queen, visit the Douglas in the castle of Rox-
burgh, and there, in the presence of the royal family, and the
nobles of the court, confer on him his daughter's hand in
marriage, along with such other royal grants and privileges
as his high gallantry and chivalrous spirit deserved. He added,
that he had just been apprized by his consort, that his daughter,
the princess Margaret, had been for some time living in close
concealment in the vicinity of Roxburgh, watching the pro-
gress of her lover with a devotion peculiar to her ardent and
affectionate nature. If the Douglas was aware of this, which
the King had some reasons for supposing, he requested that
he would defer seeing her until in the presence of her royal
parents. There was a thrust indeed! An eclaircissement was
approaching too much for man to bear.--But that heart-
rending catastrophe must be left to the next chapter. In the
meantime, for perspicuity's sake, we must relate how this
grand device of the Warden's originated, by which the castle
was won, and himself and followers honoured and enriched.
  It was wholly owing to the weird read by the great en-
chanter Master Michael Scott. So that though the reader must
have felt (as the editor did in a very peculiar manner,) that
Isaac kept his guests too long in that horrible place the
castle of Aikwood, it will now appear that not one iota of
that long interlude of his could have been omitted; for till the
weird was read, and the transformation consummated, the
embassy could not depart,--and unless these had been effected,
the castle could not have been taken. The editor, for brevity's
sake left out both the youth's and maiden's characteristic
tales, which shall appear by and by, but more he durst not
cancel.
  When the passage out of the book of fate was repeated to
Sir Ringan, he never for a moment doubted either its truth
or fulfilment, provided he and his friends could discover its
true meaning. But the words were wrapt in mystery; and,
when conjoined with the enchantment practised on his men,
were for a long time so completely unintelligible, that all save
Sir Ringan himself, and his echo Dickie of Dryhope, gave up
the hope of reconciling the given destiny with reason or com-
mon sense. As for the friar, he entered his protest against pay-
ing any regard to it from the beginning, on the principle that
all the Master's powers and foreknowledge were deputed to
him by subordinate and malevolent spirits, and that good could
not arise out of evil. The Warden's philosophy, on the other
hand, taught him to estimate facts and knowledge as he
found them developed among mankind, without enquiring
too nicely into the spirit of their origin; for the more deeply
that was wrapt in mystery, the more powerful was its sway
over his imagination. Charlie Scott felt much disposed to
coincide with his master in these principles, but in all deep
matters he was diffident in offering his advice or sentiments.
He, however, hit upon the right cue in this instance, and that
by the most natural combination of ideas that ever presented
themselves to mortal man. The right understanding of the
prophecy was about to be given up in despair. The intervals
of silence during the discussion were becoming longer and
longer each time. It was in order to break one of these, rather
than to impose his advice on his chief, that Charlie ventured
to deliver himself as follows: ""Gude faith, my masters, I see
nothing for it, but that we get Master Michael Scott to turn
us into fat owsen again, or bulls, or stotts, or what ye like.
Then the English will drive us a' gladly into the castle for
marts to their beef barrels. But when we are fairly in, we wad
need the gospel friar to change us to men again, or, gude
faith, we wad be in a bad predicament. But I hae some faith
to put in auld Michael's power, (as I hae good right,) and gin
that could be done as he seemed to hint, by the blood of
Bruce! but we wad dowss their doublets for them.''
   ""Might we not rather disguise ourselves as cattle, cousin?''
said Howpasley.
   ""I have seen our jugglers and mountebank players,'' said
Longspeare, ""disguise themselves as a lion, a tiger, a bear, a
wolf, and even as a great serpent, and dragon, so that I my-
self took them for these animals.''
   ""Why then may not we disguise ourselves as oxen, so that
we may pass for them in a dark night?'' said the Warden.
   ""Ay, in a dark night,'' said Dickie; ""what is to hinder us?
If we but walk on all four we will pass with hungry men for
oxen in a dark night.''
   Thus was the hint given, which was improved on as above
related, till it effected the desire and important event, the
taking of Roxburgh castle, and that in the most masterly and
prudent style ever conceived by man. They had a small drove
of cattle collected, as well as hides; but the disguised ones
took care to keep in the front or the middle of these, in
short on the side farthest from an Englishman. The one who
walked through the dub in an upright posture, had not per-
ceived the shabby boy so near him.
   Abundance of all the good things that the kingdom could
produce were now poured into the castle with all expedition;
and every preparation made for the reception of the King
and Queen of Scotland. The carnage had been so great at the
two gates that night the fortress was taken, that the citizens
of Roxburgh, as well as the three establishments of monks
and friars in the vicinity, besought of Douglas that the slain
might not be buried nigh to the city, for fear of infection;
and if this was granted, they proffered to be at the sole charge
of removing and burying them with all holy observances. This
was readily granted, and they were removed to a little plain
behind the present village, where thousands of their bones
have lately been dug up. The burying continued for three
days.
                        CHAPTER XXIX

                O I hae seen the gude auld day,
            The day o' pride and chieftain glory,
                When royal Stuarts bore the sway,
           And ne'er heard tell o' Whig nor Tory.
                Though lyart be my locks and gray,
                   And eild has crook'd me down,-what matter?
                I'll dance and sing ae ither day,
           That day our King comes o'er the water.
                                            <1Jacobite Song.>1

FROM the time of the taking of the castle until the arrival of
King Robert, was an interval of high festivity. The Border
chiefs and yeomen went home to their respective places of
abode with abundant spoil, having been loaded with rich
presents from the Douglas, as well as their share of Sir
Ringan's numberless booties, which he always divided among
them with great liberality; and it was computed that, in the
course of that predatory warfare, he drove thirty thousand
domestic animals out of the English territory. The Scottish
Border districts were never so well stocked before. For a
century previous to that, they had lain waste, having been
entirely depopulated, and left no better than a hunting
forest. That reign enriched them, and its happy effects have
never since been obliterated.
  Among other things that happened in this joyful interval,
old Peter Chisholm received a message one day, informing
him that the stranger to whom he had betrothed his daughter
would appear next day to claim the fulfilment of his promise.
   ""They'll eat up every thing that's within the house,'' said
Peter: ""If he will have her, it wad suit better for us to meet
them at Hawick. The half o' the expences there wad lye to
him at ony rate; and if he made weel through wi' his hides,
mayhap he wad pay the halewort. He's a brave chield enough,
it wad appear; but I wish he had fawn aff the tap o' his
humphed ill-smelled hides, and broken the bane o' his neck;
for it will be a wae sight to me to see the flower of a' the
Chisholms gang away wi' an English cadger. Oh, wae be to
the day!''
  ""What is a man but his word, father?'' said Dan. ""I think
the gallant way in which the stranger behaved entitles him
well, not only to the flower o' the Chisholms, but to the best
in the house beside.''
  ""Ay, ay, that's aye the gate! fling away! fling away! till
ye'll soon fling away every plack your auld father has gathered
for ye. But, hark ye, callant Dan: Gin ye will stand by me, I'll
gainsay the fellow yet, and refuse to gie him my Bess.''
   ""Hear what Bess says hersel,'' said Dan, ""and then I'll gie
my answer.''
   Bess was sent for, who declared not only her willingness,
but her resolution to abide by her father's agreement; but,
added, that if a better came before him, and made her an
offer, she would not wait a minute on her leather-merchant.
   ""Heard ever ony body the like o' that?'' said Peter: ""What
trow ye is the chance for that? How lang hae ye hung on the
tree wi' a red cheek an' a ripe lip, and never man to streek out
the hand to pu' ye? There was aince a neighbour I had some
hopes o'; an' he has a good heart too, for a' his jibes, an ane
durst but tell him!''
   Peter said these last words to himself, as he was turning
about to leave the apartment,--for he was at that time forming
in his mind one of those superlative schemes which strike
dotage as plans of the mightiest and most acute device, but
which youth and energy laugh at. This was no other than to
be early astir next morning, and, before any of his family
was aware, gallop over to Craik, a matter of seven miles, and
beg of Will Laidlaw to come and run off with his daughter
before she fell into the hands of an English skinman. This
grand scheme he actually put in practice, but met Laidlaw
and his jovial party by the way, who wondered not a little
when they saw old Pate coming gallopping up the Fanesh
ridge, having his great pike staff heaved over his shoulder,
with which he was every now and then saluting the far loin of
his mare, and that with an energy that made all his accoutre-
ments wallop. He never perceived the bridal party till close
on them, and till he was asked by half a score voices at once,
""What's the great haste, Castleweary! Where are ye gawn at
sic a rate sae early in the morning? Are your ha's burnt? Are
your cattle driven? Have the Ha's and the Reids been o'er the
fells aince mair?'' And many other such questions were put,
before Peter got a word spoken or a thought thought. He only
bit his lip, and looked very angry, at being caught in such a
plight. But seeing Will Laidlaw at the head of his kinsmen, he
took him aside, and imparted his grand secret. Will's sides
were like to burst with laughter. He, however, contained him-
self, while Peter went on ""But ye had better turn a' that clan
again, wha hae nought ado at a' wi' us but put things to
waste. The less din about the thing the better.''
   ""But how are we to answer the skin-merchant when he
comes then, Castleweary? That tremendous buyer of hides
will hew us all to pieces.''
   ""Ay, ye maun just take a' that blame on yoursels, you
and Bess. He'll no mak muckle at the Laidlaw's hands, or
he'll do what never ony did afore him.''
   ""I certainly have the greatest respect for your daughter;
but times are hard and dangerous, and I have nae great
opinion o' marriage.''
   ""Come, now, I like to hear that; for ye ken fock maun ay
read a Laidlaw backward; and if the times are hard, I shall be
satisfied with a very small dowry. Perhaps the matter o' ten
tup hogs aff the Crib-law, sax owsen aff Hosecot, and--
   ""Hold there, my old friend; and I will run all risks, and
take away your daughter Elizabeth; let the skin-man look to
himself.''
   ""Weel, God bless ye wi' her. Ye'll get the flower of a' the
Chisholms, and the best bairn o' the bike.''
   Bess was a winsome and a blithe bride that day, and though
the wounds she received in the engagement with the marauders
were not quite whole, she danced the best at the wedding,
and was the first that lighted on Craik-green. Dan entertained
his fellow-soldiers nobly; but old Peter was terribly in the
fidgets, not only at the huge waste of meat and drink that
he now saw going on, but for the fear of the arrival of the
outrageous and ill-used hide-merchant, and never till his
dying day could he be brought to identify his son-in-law
with the stranger to whom he first promised his daughter.
But for many a day, when the dogs barked, he hasted out in
great agitation, lest the dealer in skins and his associates
should come upon him unawares. Sandie Pott having found a
very kind, attentive, and, withal, a very indulgent nurse, in
the younger daughter, May Chisholm, there chanced two
weddings at Castleweary on the same day.
   Among other matters of that eventful period, Isaac the
curate mentions also a petition of the friar to Sir Ringan,
that he would use his interest to get the youthful bard, who
had come an adventurer into his army, replaced in his rights
of the lordship of Ravensworth; and likewise that he would
grant him the captive maid, Delany, for his bride. These
important connections had never before come to the Warden's
ears; and when he heard the extraordinary adventures, and
early misfortunes of the twain, he manifested the greatest
concern for their welfare. But the maid, by the laws of those
days, was the right and property of Sir Charles Scott, who
seemed unwilling to part with her, and she not less so to be
divided from him, now that his late honours became him so
well. This was a distressing consideration to the poet, and he
would in nowise leave her, to lay claim to his paternal estate,
till he saw how matters would turn in his favour. But the
friar still encouraged him, assuring him, ""that he should be
restored to the house and to the inheritance of his fathers;
and that the fairest among the daughters of women, even
the sole remaining stem of the house of Galli the scribe, should
be unto him as a spouse and a comforter.''
   But among all the festivities at Roxburgh, and all the
mighty preparations for the reception of royalty, and the
spending of the Christmas holidays in such company, the
countenance of Douglas was manifestly overcast. He affected
mirth and gaiety, but a hideous and terrific gloom frequently
settled on his dark manly countenance. The princess's shame-
ful and untimely death hung heavy on his mind, and the
secret of it still heavier. His conscience upbraided him, not
with any blame in the matter, for he was alike ignorant of
the rank and sex of his fantastical page: But her devotion to
his cause and person; the manner in which she had exerted
herself by putting her rival into his hands; the love-tokens
slily given to him by her own dear self; her admonitory
letters; and all her whimsical and teazing inuendos, came
over his mind, and combined in rendering her memory ten
times dearer to him than ever he conceived that of human
being could have been. And then, how was all this requited?
By bad humour, disrespect, and a total disregard of her
danger and sufferings. The most enthusiastic, affectionate,
and accomplished lady of the age in which she lived, was
suffered to be put down as a common criminal, without one
effort being made to save her; and that delicate and beautiful
form thrust down into a common charnel-house among the
vulgar dead. Knowing all these things as he did, how could he
again behold her royal parents? and knowing all these things
as he did, why had he not related the lamentable facts as they
happened, and conducted himself accordingly? There was
fixed the acme of his dilemma. The detail of that lady's love
and fate rose before his mind's eye,like a dark unseemly arch,
of which this was the keystone; and there was a power stood
above it that held his soul in controul, and beyond that he
could not pass. Was it indeed true, that the spirit of his royal
and beloved mistress walked the earth, and from day to day
laid her stern behests upon him? And could it be that such a
spirit attended upon him in his most secret retirements; and,
though unseen, watched over all his motions, words, and
actions? Or how else could the very thoughts and purposes
of his heart, together with his most secret transactions, be
repeated to him by this holy monk? Nay, though he had
never actually seen this apparition, he had heard his mistress's
voice one night speaking to him as from behind the hangings,
and charging him, as he respected his own and her soul's
welfare, to keep her fate concealed from all flesh.
   Whenever the Douglas got leisure to think at all, amid the
hurry of his military duties, these cogitations preyed on his
mind; and one night when they had thrown him into a deep
reverie, the monk Benjamin was announced.
   ""I cannot see him to-night: Tell him to come and speak
with me to-morrow,'' said Douglas.
   ""He craves only a few moments audience, Lord of Douglas;
and he says, that, unless he is admitted, a visitor of another
nature will wait on you forthwith.''
   ""What is the meaning of this?'' said Douglas: ""Must my
privacy be broken in upon, and my mind placed on the rack,
at the pleasure of every fanatical devotee? Tell him that I will
not be disturbed to-night. But--I think not what I am saying.
Admit him. Well, reverend and holy father--madman rather!
What is your important business with me?''
   ""That saintly vision has again been with me.''
   ""Out upon thee, maniac and liar! There has been no such
thing with thee; and thou hast trumped up a story in order to
keep the power of the Douglas under thy ghostly and
interested controul.''
   ""If I am a visionary, Lord, it is for thyself to judge. I speak
nothing as of myself, but the words of one that has sent me. If
thou darest say they are the visions of a maniac, in future I
keep them to myself, and do you abide by the consequences.''
      ""Thinkest thou that I will not, or that I dare not abide by
any consequences? Hence! Begone!''
   ""Rash precipitate man! thou shalt repent this! What interest
can I possibly have in whispering these truths in thine ear?
Did I ever ask or hint at a favour from thee? Or was aught
ever, save thy own welfare, the purport of my messages?
Adieu, my lord! There must another commissioner wait on
you presently, and one who will elude the most vigilant of
your sentinels.''
   ""Stay, Benjamin: Thou art, indeed, blameless. If thou hast
ought to warn me of, say it and have done, for I am not in a
mood to be trifled with.''
   ""I have been bid to caution you to look to yourself, for
that there is treason within the walls of this castle. Will you
answer me one or two queries truly and seriously, that I may
know whether the being that commissioned me be a true
spirit or a false one?''
   ""I will.''
   ""Have you got a private offer to a prodigious amount for
the ransom of Lady Jane Howard?''
   ""Monk, thou hast had this from hell.--I have.''
   ""Which thou hast rejected, with the secret intent of asking
her in marriage yourself, should circumstances concur to
favour the device?''
   ""It is false!--false as the source whence thou hadst it.''
   ""Ah! Then have I done! my informant is a false one.''
   ""Or, if I had, it was some passing thought, which no man
can gainsay, and for which none are accountable.''
   ""Neither is it true that you visited her in disguise last
night?''
   The Douglas gazed upon the monk in silence, with an eye
in which there was an unnatural gleam of madness. He drew
his breath three times, as if he would have spoken, but made
no answer. The monk continued: ""If these are truths, then
list to the following behest,--if they are false thou needest
not regard it: There is a conspiracy among thy people for the
rescue of Lady Jane. They have been bribed by unheard-of
rewards. Thy guards are of course to be cut down, otherwise
the rescue cannot be effected; and if thy own head is added
to the convoy, the guerdons are all to be doubled.''
   The Douglas started to his feet, and held up both his hands:
""By the blessed Virgin it is true!'' exclaimed he--""True every
word of it! There have been petitions made to me for the use
of certain keys already. Ay, and I have granted some of them
too. I see through a part of the conspiracy. But I'll sift the
traitors! I'll make carrion of them.''
   ""If I am rightly informed, it may yet be prevented without
being made manifest, which would be greatly preferable.
Beware of Kinlossie. And list, for my time is expired: If you
value your own name, see not the face of Lady Jane again,
till you present her to your sovereign.''
   The monk retired with precipitation, and left the Douglas
overwhelmed with tumultuary and adverse passions. ""Still
the Lady Jane Howard!'' said he to himself: ""Nothing but the
Lady Jane Howard! Is it possible this can be an agent of hers?
But the inference contradicts the whole scope and tendency
of his missions. I must investigate this matter without delay.''
He raised his small bugle to his mouth, for in those days that
answered all the purposes of a house bell, and many more.
Every officer in castle or camp knew, by the blast blown, when
his personal attendance was required. Douglas lifted his to
his mouth,--but before he sounded it, the knight in waiting
announced ""a lady.'' No bolder heart than that of Douglas
beat in a Scottish bosom. Nevertheless it quaked; for he
thought of the threatening of the monk, that another
commissioner should visit him, whom his guards should not
be able to repel. His agitation was now wrought up to the
highest pitch, for he attempted to pronounce some words, of
which the knight knew not the import,--probably it was a
command to expel her, or to call in some guards; but before
the order could be understood or complied with, the lady
herself entered. ""There she is, my lord!'' said the knight in a
whisper; ""and none of us know whence or how she came
hither.''
   The lady came slowly by, and the knight retired with all
speed. She bore indeed the figure and form of the late princess,
but the roses of youth and beauty were gone, and in their
room a clayey paleness pervaded the features, which were
even whiter than the cambric by which the face was surround-
ed. The figure held up its right hand as it advanced, and fixed
its eyes on the earl; but no man to this day ever knew any
thing farther of that conference.  The knight in waiting,
shortly after he had retired, heard a noise within as of a man
choking and endeavouring to cry out; and, bringing two more
attendants with him, they all three rushed into the apartment,
and found the Douglas fallen back on the embroidered couch
in a state of mental abstraction, or rather of total insensibility,
and the lady was gone. They immediately applied themselves
to the restoration of their lord, which they effected in a short
time.  Animation soon returned, but reason wavered in a
state of instability for several hours. During that period he
had for a number of times inquired who admitted that stranger,
or who saw her depart? The men assuring him each time,
that no one saw her till she was observed standing in the anti-
chamber; and that none was either admitted into the citadel
or seen depart, save the starveling monk who attended him
frequently as his confessor. ""There has been another lady,''
they added, begging admission to your presence for a whole
day and night, which has always been refused her, in con-
sequence of your peremptory order. She has at the last
resorted to the means always at a woman's command, tears
and threatenings; and she vows, that if she is not admitted to
an audience, you shall dearly repent it.''
   ""What, another still?'' said the Douglas: ""No, I'll see no
more women today, nor tomorrow, nor next day. Do you
know, Eveldon, what I think of women?''
   ""No, Lord Douglas, but well what I think of them myself,
which is, that they are nature's masterpieces.''
   ""The pests of society, Eveldon. I deem them subordinate
creatures, created solely for man's disquietude. The warrior
is naturally surrounded by dangers; but, till he engages with
women, he rises superior to them all; it is then that his
troubles and perils begin. No, I'll see no more women to-
night.''
   ""Might I advise, my lord, it would be, that you should give
her admission. It appears so strange to see a lovely and most
courtly dame standing weeping at your gate. The very
commonest of the people sympathise with her, and blame
your neglect. Beshrew me, if any knight in the realm would
refuse such a suit; no, not the King himself.''
   ""Do you think, Sir John of Eveldon, that I can submit to
be ruled by women and their agents? I, who never held them
as ought save as beings formed for man's pleasures or his
interests. My hands are free of their blood, Sir John,--my
heart, if ever it was in bonds, is now emancipated; and yet,
by their means, has my life of late been held in thraldom.''
   ""Say that I may admit this dame, my lord.''
   ""Well, be it so, and let us be quit of her. In the mean time,
let the guards be tripled, and stand to your arms. I have had
strange intelligence to-night; if true, there will be a dangerous
commotion in less than an hour hence.''
   ""The forces of the two kingdoms cannot disturb you here
to-night, Lord Douglas.''
   ""See to it,--there is treason within our walls. Who are on
guard?''
   ""The Gordons, and Lindsay of Kinlossie's men.''
   ""The Gordons I can trust.--let the others be changed with-
out delay, Sir John, and see them consorted to the camp.--
Call up the Douglasses of the Dales, and let them look to
themselves. Admit that petitioner in whom you are so much
interested, and call me on the slightest appearance of in-
subordination.''
   Sir John did as he was commanded, and forthwith intro-
duced Mary Kirkmichael of Balmedie. The impatience and
mortification that the Douglas manifested under this trial is
not to be described, for he had promised to give her inform-
ation of her royal mistress as soon as he had it in his power,
and yet he neither had the heart nor the resolution, after the
charges he had received of secrecy, to tell her of her mistress'
woeful fate. At Mary's first entrance into his presence, she
rushed forward and kneeled at his feet, crying, in the most
passionate manner, ""O, my dear lord, tell me what has be-
come of my mistress. This suspense is dreadful. The castle is
now in your hands, and all the prisoners, if such they were;
but there are shocking insinuations whispered abroad. Her
father and mother are on their way to visit you here; and
what shall I say to them for the loss of my dear mistress? O,
Lord Douglas, if you know of her, as know of her you must,
tell me where I can see her. Dead or alive, let me but see her.
Or tell me when I shall see her.''
   ""Lady, that is more than I can tell you; but if it will give
you any heart's ease, as certainly as I speak to you I saw her
in this apartment to-night.''
   ""Blessed are the news to me, my lord! But why, then, won't
you admit me to her? Send me instantly to her presence,
Lord Douglas, for I know she cannot be in any state of con-
cealment in which my company cannot be welcome. I implore
you to send me forthwith to her presence.''
   ""Send you to her presence? That would be a cruel act!
Dame, you and your sex have moved my spirit from its erect
and heavenward position. It is like a tree bowed by the wind,
and the branch of memory is stripped of its fruit. Did I say I
saw the Princess Margaret in this apartment?--You must not
credit it. There's an incoherence in the principle, or nature
has hasty productions not accounted for. You must not
believe it, lady; for till the porter opens the great gate to you,
your royal mistress you shall not see again.''
   ""Are not all the gates opened or shut at your controul, my
lord? You speak to me in paradoxes. I comprehend it all
well enough, however. I will go in or out at any gate; only,
in one word, conduct me to my mistress.''
   ""Hell has no plague like this! No, there are no other fiends
that can torment a man in this manner.'' He blew his bugle.
--""Eveldon, conduct this dame to her mistress. She is in the
great state prison, you know, the receptacle of royalty and
thraldom, and let me not hear another word. I'll throw him
over the battlements that next mentions the name of a woman
to me.''
   The lady curtsied, and thanked the Douglas; and Sir John,
mistaking his lord's frantic sarcasm for a serious command,
hurried Mary Kirkmichael up stairs to the topmost apartment
of the great tower, and ushered her in, without farther cere-
mony, to Lady Jane Howard and her attendant. Lady Jane
rose and came running toward them; but, seeing who
approached, she started, and retreated to her place. As the two
ascended the narrow staircase, there was a great commotion
in the square below, therefore, Sir John turned the key and
hastened down again. The noise increased, and he heard there
was a stern engagement, in which the name of Lady Jane
was given as a rallying word on the one side. At the bottom
of the stair the conspirators met him, having broken through
the ranks in that direction; for the Gordons flew to guard the
apartments of the Douglas, not knowing what the object of
the insurrection was. Sir John had just time to shut a double-
barred door in front of them; and, retreating up one storey,
he shouted from the balcony to apprize the Douglas, else the
Lady Jane Howard was gone. One from the ranks ran to
apprize the captain, but losing himself among the intricacies
of the entrance, he shouted out, ""Lord Douglas! Lord Douglas!''
with the utmost vociferation. The Douglas was sitting in a
deep reverie; his drawn sword was lying on the table beside
him. He heaved it above his shoulder, and running to the door
of the apartment, opened it, and asked the fellow, who was
still bawling in the dark, what it was? "" Tis the Lady Jane
Howard!'' answered he, in the same shouting voice. ""Dam-
nation on the tongue that says it!'' exclaimed the Douglas in
ire: ""Am I never more to hear aught repeated but the names
of women? Do you know the penalty of that word, recreant?
I have sworn to throw you from the battlements, but that
shall not prevent me from cleaving you to the earth in the
first place. Women! women! Nothing but one woman after
another! I'll cut down every man that dares name one to me
in that manner!'' As he said these words, he rushed toward
the soldier with his heavy sword heaved, but the man, flying
with all expedition, escaped into the court. The Douglas
followed him, and was soon in the midst of a confused
engagement; and hearing the conspirators shouting the same
name, ""Lady Jane Howard!'' he took it as in derision and
flew on their ranks with such fury, that every man at whom
he struck fell to the ground. The Gordons followed him up,
crying ""A Douglas!'' but the conspirators were the stronger
party, and would ultimately have prevailed, had not the
Douglasses of the Dales arrived to change guard as formerly
ordered; and then, Kinlossie having fallen in an attempt to
slay the Douglas, his party surrendered. There was a strong
troop of English horsemen waiting on the other side of the
Teviot with a raft, to whom she was to have been let down
from the wall. But the information lodged by the monk not
only frustrated the whole of the desperate expedition of the
Howards, but saved the life of Douglas. For the conspirators
receiving the unexpected orders to depart to the camp, were
driven to make the attempt prematurely, before their measures
formerly concocted were ripe for execution.
   Of all the circumstances that had hitherto occurred, the
reflection upon this bewildered the mind of Douglas the
most. The manner in which these secret combinations had
been revealed to him filled his heart both with gratitude and
amazement; and as all endeavours at reconciling them with
nature or reason only increased the mystery, he resolved to
shake the load from his spirits and think no more of them.
That he might effect this with greater promptitude, he kept
his noble kinsmen constantly about him by night as well as by
day. The Redhough also returned from his visit to Mount-
comyn, as did all the knights and gentlemen commoners of
his party from their respective homes, mounted in their most
splendid accoutrements, to greet their Sovereign, render him
an account of their services, and proffer him due homage.
But, among all these Border chiefs, there was none whose
appearance attracted so much admiration as that of Sir
Charles Scott of Raeburn and Yardbire. Before that time,
the only attention he had ever paid to his habiliments, was
that of procuring the best suits of armour that could possibly
be obtained. As the leader of the Warden's vanguard column,
and his right-hand files in line, he knew it behoved him to be
well armed, and in that article he was never deficient. But
now that he had to appear before his Sovereign in full pride of
array, as the knight of Raeburn and the Warden's right-hand
man, he deemed it requisite to have an equipment becoming
his rank; so he rummaged the old oaken wardrobe and armour-
chest at Yardbire, and from the knightly spoils of ages got
himself fitted out, by a skilful hand, in a style that amazed
all his former compeers. Both himself and his horse Corbie
were literally covered with burnished gold; while the playful
restiveness of the one, and the manly and almost colossal
figure of the other, rendered the appearance of our warrior
a sight truly worthy of admiration. The activity and elasticity
of all his motions, combined with his invincible muscular
strength, and urbanity of countenance and manners, rendered
Charlie at all times an interesting object; but till once he
appeared in his plumes and light armour studded with gold,
no one could have believed that he was so comely and graceful
a personage. At the same time the very consciousness of his
appearance, and the rank that he was obliged to support,
raised his personal carriage and address many degrees, as by
a charm; so that wherever the Warden and his train presented
themselves, strangers always appeared disposed to move their
bonnets to Sir Charles, whom they took for a king, or an earl
at the very least.
   The arrival of these heroes added a great deal to the hilarity,
tilting, and other military amusements at Roxburgh; until at
last the 24th of December arrived, and with it the word that
the King and Queen were on their way to Roxburgh, and
approaching by the wild path of Soutra-edge. There was no
bustle at the castle or city of Roxburgh, save by the city dames
and maidens, for whom the approaching festival appeared a
glorious epocha; for since the days of Edward Longshanks,
who kept his court there for some weeks, there had not been
a crowned head within the precincts of that illustrious city.
Consequently, with these fair denizens, and with the merchants
who attended that mart once a year from many of the towns
on the Continent, it was a time of hurry and preparation; but
with the warriors it was far otherwise. They were ready
before; every one being alike anxious to fulfil the part en-
trusted to him,--so that they had nothing ado but to mount
and ride in the order assigned to them.
   First of all rode Sir Ringan Redhough, supported by all
the gentlemen of the middle and west marches--the Scotts,
the Elliots, the Armstrongs, and the Olivers, were the most
powerful of these: And next in order came the Laidlaws, the
Brydens, the Glendenyngs, and the Potts. After them rode
the copper-nosed Kers, the towzy Turnbulls, and the red-
wudd Ridderfords; for in those days every sept had some
additional appellative or by-name. These were also mixed
with a number of smaller septs, such as the Robsons, the
Dicksons, the hurkle-backed Hendersons, and the rough-
riding Riddels; and they were all headed by the doughty Sir
Andrew Ker of Aultonburn. Next in order rode Old Willie
Wiliecoat, named also <1Willie wi' the white doublet,>1 the
ancestor of the Earls of Home,--a brave and dauntless character,
who for the space of forty years had been a sight of terror to
the English, with his white jacket. With him rode the gentle-
men of his own name, the hard-rackle Homes, the dorty
Dunbars, the strait-laced Somervilles, and the Baillies. Then
came the proud Pringles, a powerful sept, mixed with a
countless number of dependent families, headed by Pringle
of Galashiels; and after them the Gordons, led by Sir John of
that ilk.
   All these held lands of the Douglas, on conditions of
certain services; they were nevertheless all independent chiefs,
these services performed; but at this time they attended
personally, with their kinsmen, to pay their dutiful respects
to their Sovereign. Last of all came the Douglasses, in five
separate bodies, every one headed by a lord or knight of the
name; and these made up one-third of the whole cavalcade,
the Earl himself being with the last party of all, and most
gallantly attended.
   The two parties met at Earlston, but the royal party was
nothing in point of bearing and splendour to that of the
Douglasses. The King and Queen travelled each in a litter
borne by two gallant steeds. These carriages were very splendid
in their decorations, and constructed in the same way as a
sedan chair, and it was truly wonderful with what velocity
they were borne along. They were contrived for the King's
use, who had a halt, and could not travel on horseback; and
they suited the state of the roads in Scotland at that period
exceedingly. Two heralds rode before his Majesty, who intro-
duced the various chiefs to him as he passed, and those others
of whose names he enquired, among whom Sir Charles Scott
was the first. The Queen and her Maries also saluted him
along with the Warden. The whole procession then drew up
in files until their Majesties passed, after which they fell all
into their places, the order of precedency being then reversed,
and the Douglasses next to the Sovereign. There was no time
for delay, considering the season, the darkness of the night,
and the shortness of the day; so they posted on with all
manner of expedition, and yet it was dark before they reached
the abbey of Kelso. But all the way, by the cloisters, the
bridge, and up the High-street of the city of Roxburgh, there
were tiers of torches raised above one another that made it
lighter than the noonday. Never was there such a scene of
splendour witnessed in that ancient and noble city; to which
the darkness of the canopy above, and the glare of torch-
light below, added inconceivable grandeur. It seemed as if all
the light and beauty of the universe had been confined within
that narrow space, for without all was blackness impervious
to the eye, but within there was nothing but brilliancy,
activity, and joy. Seven score musical instruments, and as many
trilling but discordant voices, yelled forth, from the one end
of the street to the other, that old song beginning,
                  ""The King came to our town;
                   Ca' Cuddie, ca' Cuddie!
                  The King came to our town,
                    Low on the Border.''

  The trumpets sounded before, and the bugles behind; and
the Border youths and maidens were filled with enthusiastic
delight at the novelty of the spectacle. They followed with
shouts to the castle gate, and then returned to talk of what
they had seen, and what they should see on the morrow.
  The royal party was conducted to the citadel, where every
thing was in readiness for a grand entertainment; and there
the Douglas delivered into the King's hands the keys of the
castle of Roxburgh. His Majesty received them most gracious-
ly, and thanked him for all the cost, pains, and trouble that
he had taken for the good of the realm; and added, that he
came prepared in heart and mind to fulfil his engagements to
him in return. There was now a manifest embarrassment on
the part of the Douglas; his countenance changed; and he
looked as he would have asked for the Princess, or, at least,
as if some one were wanting that ought to have been there;
but after an agitated pause, he could only stammer out, that
""he was much beholden to his Majesty, who might at all
times command his utmost services without bounty or reward.''
   ""I trust that is not as much as to say that you now decline
the stipulated reward for this high service,'' said the King.
   ""Sire, I see none either for your Majesty to give, or your
servant to receive,'' said the Douglas; and at the same time he
cast a hasty and perturbed glance at the courtiers and warriors
ranged around the hall. The king nodded by way of assent to
his hint; and at the same time said to him, aside, ""I under-
stand you, Lord Douglas. You will explain this gallantry of
yours, in keeping your sovereign's daughter in concealment
from her natural guardians, in private to-morrow. But, pray,
can we not see our darling to-night?''
   ""Alas, my leige lord and sovereign,'' said Douglas, passion-
ately, ""sure you jest with your servant, thus to tax him with
that of which he is innocent.''
   The King smiled, and waving his hand jocularly, by way of
intimating that he thought his affected secrecy prudence at
that time, left him, and forthwith went halting up among the
Borderers, to converse with them about the affairs of the
English marches. The stately and commanding figure of Charlie
Scott, who was like Saul among the people, again attracted
the King's eyes, and he went familiarly up to him, and said at
once, ""Well, gallant knight, how have accounts balanced be-
tween you and your southern neighbours since last Lammas-
tide?''
   ""Gude faith, my leige lord and king, I can hardly tell you,'
said Sir Charles, without hesitation: ""There hae been some
hard yerks gaun; but the last quarter stands rather aboon an
average wi' us. It is a kittle bauk that hings o'er the Border,
my leige; it is often nae sooner down to the yird than it is up
to the stams again.''
   ""Well said, knight! I like your fair wit and free humour,''
said the King. ""So, upon the whole, you judge that the
balance preponderates on our side just now?''
   ""I should think sae, Sire, when sic a clod as this castle of
Roxburgh is thrown into the bucket. It is nae witherweight
this for the end of a weigh-bauk. A' the kye o' the Seven
Dales winna carry the swee to the south side again.''
   The Queen, hearing her lord conversing so freely and
jocularly with this goodly personage, came also up with two
of her ladies of honour, in order to put in a word; ""for (says
Isaac, with great simplicity) women always like to be striking
kemps with a handsome and proper man; and the bigger of
bone, and the stronger of muscle, the more is he the object
of their admiration.''
   When Sir Charles had finished the last remark, therefore,
the Queen smiled complacently in his face, and said, ""You
must certainly acknowledge, gallant knight, that you have
been much indebted to heaven for your singular success in
this instance?''
   Sir Charles nodded his head. ""Its a' that ye ken about it,
my lady queen. But saft be the sough that says it. I trow we
were mair indebted to some other place in the first instance.''
   The Queen held up her hands: "Uh! what does the knight
mean? Say, my lord, What? What place?'' Then turning to
Sir Ringan, who was terribly in the fidgets about what had
dropped from his kinsman, she added, ""I trust our right traist
warden and loving cousin did not practise any of the dia-
bolical arts, so prevalent of late, to accomplish his hard task?''
And then, with a woman's natural volubility, when once her
tongue is set a-going, she added, turning to Charlie, without
waiting the Warden's reply, ""What place does Sir Charles
mean? I hope you would not insinuate that you had any
dealings with the spirits of darkness?''
   ""Not with hell directly, madam,'' answered Charlie, (for
Isaac can never help calling him occasionally by his old title,)
""but I canna say that we didna set a strong hint frae ane or
twa of its principal agents. No offence, mylady queen. I ken
by report, that your Majesty takes supreme delight in religious
devotions; and, to tell the truth, I have always had a strong
hankering that gate mysel', and hope I will hae till the day of
my death. But there is ae thing in the whilk I am greatly
altered. Pray, may I take the liberty to ask what is your
Majesty's opinion about the deil?''
   ""Uh! gracious St Mary be with us! What a question, knight!
Why, what can I think but that he is the great enemy of God
and man, and the author of universal evil?''
   ""There I think differently,'' said Charlie, bowing very low:
""Always begging my lady queen's gracious pardon, that's the
only tenet o' my belief that is altered;--at least an it be nae
fairly altered, it is considerably jumbled, and nought like sae
steadfast as it was. Always begging your pardon though,
madam.''
   ""I am quite confounded,'' said the Queen. ""Pray, warrior,
what do you mean?''
   ""Plainly this, my lady queen; that I think the old gentle-
man has been sair abused; and that there are some na meikle
better than him wha have been a great deal better ca'd. It
may sound a little odd in your ears, but I hae now seen him, I
hae sat wi' him; I hae eaten, I hae drunken wi' him; and gin it
hadna been for the interference of women, we wad hae partit
civilly. But whenever they get a finger in a pye, there will be
some ane burnt in the opening o't. Always begging your
Majesty's pardon, though.''
   The Queen crossed herself, and counted her beads; but at
the same time bestowed a smile and look of admiration on
this extraordinary hero who had accomplished such singular
adventures. These encouraging Sir Charles to finish his sen-
tence, he added: ""They hae frightit me wi' him lang; and
sair has my neb been hauden at the grindstone wi' the fear o'
him. I durst hardly say or think that ane of a' the members
of my body was my ain wi' perfect terror. But thae days are
a' o'er. An' the bedesmen be gaun to fright me ony langer
wi' a deil, they maun get a new ane; for the auld ane winna
stand his ground to any extent wi' me on that score. He has
doubtless some bad qualities; some wicked vagaries about
him; but, upon the whole, I hae met wi' waur fellows.''
   This introduction, in spite of Sir Ringan's endeavours to
waive the subject, led to the whole narrative of the trans-
actions at Aikwood, of which the Queen and her maidens
of honour were never wearied, although at the same time
many an Ave Maria and Paternoster the subject cost them.
When obliged, from the lateness of the hour, to desist listen-
ing to the agitating theme, the Queen was never at rest until
it was renewed next day; nor even then till she had gone and
visited the great hill of Eildon thus miraculously cleft asunder
and divided into three; and even after quaking at the scene,
she grew still more importunate in her inquiries, so that there
was no satisfying her curiosity on the subject of the enchant-
ments of Master Michael Scott all the time she remained in
Roxburgh.
   When she retired to her chamber that first night she in-
quired for a confessor, and the knight in waiting introduced
the monk Benjamin; intimating, that since the capture of the
castle he had been confessor-general to all within its walls.
The Queen's devotions that night were prolonged until an
early hour next morning; nevertheless she arose from her
sleep greatly refreshed, and in high spirits, and at the break-
fast-table was more than usually gay. Not so with Douglas,
over whose countenance, in spite of all exertions to the
contrary, hung a heavy gloom, as well as a manifest abstraction
of thought. The King, who was a person of strong discern-
ment, observed this, and, from some indefinite dread of the
cause, involuntarily partook of the sensation.
                         CHAPTER XXX


                I want none of your gold, Douglas,
                   I want none of your fee,
                But swear by the faith of thy right hand
                   That you'll love only me:
                And I'll leave my country and my kin
                  And wend along with thee.
                                       <1May Marley.>1


WHEN the mass, and a plentiful morning meal, were over
next day, every one began to prepare for such exercises as
the season admitted. All lingered about for some time, but
seeing that no orders were likely to be given out for any
procession or general rendezvous during the day, which every
one had expected, some betook them to the chace, others to
equestrian exercises with sword and spear, while the Homes
and the Gordons joined in an excursion into English ground,
keeping along the southern bank of the Tweed. The King
observing them all about to disperse, reminded the Douglas
that it was a high festal day; on which the latter made a low
obeisance, and remarked, that he was only now a guest in the
castle of Roxburgh, and that his honoured leige sovereign
was host; that his foresters and sumptuary officers had got
timeous notice, and nothing would be lacking that his Majesty
could desire for the entertainment of his nobles and friends.
The King then caused it to be intimated, that he would be
happy to meet all his lords and nobles in the banquet-hall at
even-tide, where every knight, gentleman, and yeoman, were
expected to attend in their several places, and all should be
heartily welcome. ""And now, Lord Douglas,'' said he, leading
the way into an antichamber, ""let us two retire by ourselves,
and consult what is to be done next.''
   Lord Douglas followed, but ill prepared to answer the
inquiries about to be put to him. He had received injunctions
of secrecy from one who had in no instance misled him, and
to whom he had been of late indebted for the preservation of
his life. But how was he now to conduct himself, or how
answer his sovereign in any other way than according to the
truth as it had been stated unto him? His predicament was a
hard one; for he was, in the first place, ashamed of the part
he had acted, of never having discovered his royal mistress
while attached to his side, notwithstanding of all evidences in
confirmation of the fact, which he had never once seen till
too late. And then to have suffered even his mistress' page to
fall a victim to such a shameful death, without either making
an effort to save him, or so much as missing him from his hand,
or mentioning his loss,--were circumstances not quite con-
sistent with the high spirit of gallantry, as well as chivalry, he
had displayed at first by the perilous undertaking. Gladly
would he have kept his knowledge of the transaction a secret;
but then there was the monk Benjamin, who, by some super-
natural agency, had been given to understand the whole scope
and tenor of it; and there was dame Mary Kirkmichael knew
the whole, except the degrading catastrophe, and had un-
folded it all to him when it was too late. He run over all these
things in his mind, and was as little, as at any previous period,
prepared what part to act, when the King turned round, and,
in the most anxious and earnest manner, said, ""Lord Douglas,
where is our daughter?''
   ""My liege lord and sovereign, ought not I rather to have
asked that question of you?'' said the Douglas: ""And I would
have done it at our first meeting, only that I would not trifle
with your feelings on such a serious matter, perceiving that
you laboured under a grievous misconception regarding my
conduct.  You have not, it seems, brought the princess
Margaret along with you, as was expected by all my friends
and followers?''
   ""Not by yourself, I am certain. I say, Lord Douglas, where
is my daughter? I demand a categorical answer.''
   ""Sire, in what way am I accountable for your daughter?''
   ""Lord Douglas, I hate all evasion. I request an answer as
express as my question. I know my darling child, in admiration
of your chivalrous enterprise, resolved, in the true spirit of
this romantic age, to take some active part in the perils
undertaken solely on her account:  I know her ingenuity,
which was always boundless, was instrumental in performing
some signal services to you; and that finally she attached her-
self to your side in a disguise which she deemed would ensure
her a kind and honourable protection. Thus far I know; and,
though the whole was undertaken and transacted without my
knowledge, when I was absent in the Highlands, I am certain
as to the truth of every circumstance; and I am farther certified
that you know all this.''
   ""Hear me, my liege sovereign. Admitting that your daughter,
or any other kings, lord's, or commoner's daughter, should
put herself into a page's raiment, and''---
   ""Silence, lord!' cried the king, furiously, interrupting him:
""Am I to be mocked thus, and answered only with circum-
locution, notwithstanding my express command to the con-
trary? Answer me in one word. My Lord of Douglas, where
is my daughter?''
   ""Where God will, sire,'' was the short and emphatic reply.
The king eyed Douglas with a keen and stern regard, and the
eagle eye of the latter met that of his sovereign without any
abashment. But yet this look of the Douglas, unyielding as
it was, manifested no daring or offensive pride; it was one
rather of stern sorrow and regret; nevertheless he would not
withdraw it, but, standing erect, he looked King Robert in the
face, until the eyes of the latter were gradually raised from
his toward heaven. ""Almighty Father!'' cried he, clasping his
hands together,--""Where, then, is it thy will that my beloved
child should be? O Douglas! Douglas! In the impatience and
warmth of temper peculiar to my race, I was offended at
your pertinacity; but I dread it was out of respect to a father's
feelings. I forgive it, now that I see you are affected, only, in
pity to this yearning bosom, relate to me all that you know.
Douglas! can you not inform me what has befallen to my
daughter?''
   ""No, my liege, I cannot, I know nothing, or at least little
save from report; but the little that I have heard, and the
little that I have seen, shall never be reported by my tongue.''
   ""Then hope is extinct!'' cried the King. ""The scene that
can draw tears from the stern eye of the Douglas, even by an
after reflection, is one unmeet for a parent's ear. The will of
the Almighty be done! He hath given and he hath taken away:
blessed be his name! But why have the men of my household,
and the friends in whom I trusted, combined against my
peace?'' The King said this in a querulous mood, ""Why did
you not tell me sooner?'' cried he, turning to Douglas, his
tone altering gradually from one of penitence and deep
humiliation to one of high displeasure: ""Why bring me on
this fool's errand, when I ought to have been sitting in sack-
cloth and ashes, and humbling myself for the sins of my
house? These must have been grievous indeed, that have
drawn down such punishment on me. But the indifference
of those in whom we trusted is the worst of all! O, my child!
My darling child, Margaret! Never was there a parent so blest
in a daughter as I was in thee! The playfulness of the lamb or
the kid,--the affection of the turtle-dove, were thine. Thy
breast was all enthusiasm and benevolence, and every emotion
of thy soul as pure as the ray of heaven. I loved thee with
more than parental affection, and, if I am bereaved of thee, I
will go mourning to my grave. Is there no one in this place
that can inform me of my daughter's fate? Her lady confidant,
I understand, is still lingering here. Send for her instantly.
Send for her confessor also, that I may confront you altogether,
and ascertain the hideous and unwelcome truth. If I cannot
have it here, I shall have it elsewhere, or wo be to all that have
either been instrumental in her fate or lax in warding it off!
Do you think, Lord of Douglas, that I can be put off with a
hum and a haw, and a shake of the head, and, ""its God's will?''
Do you think I should, when I am inquiring about my own
daughter, whom I held dearest of all earthly beings? No, I'll
scrutinize it to a pin's point. I'll wring every syllable of the
truth out of the most secret heart and the most lying tongue.
I'll move heaven and hell, but I'll know every circumstance
that has befallen to my daughter. Send, I say, for her foster-
sister and faithful attendant, dame Mary Kirkmichael. Send
also for her confessor, and for all to whom she has but once
spoken since she arrived here. Why are they not sent for
before this time?''
   ""My liege lord, restrain your impatience. They are sent
for; but they will tell you nothing that can mitigate your
sorrow. If it be all true that has been told to me, and that you
yourself have told to me, of the disguise the Princess assumed,
then it is also true that you will never again see your daughter
in this state of existence.''
   ""Ah! is it even so! Then is the flower of the realm fallen!
then is the solace of my old age departed! But she is happy in
the realms of blessedness. While love, joy, and truth are the
delight of heaven, there will my Margaret find a place! O,
that she had staid by her father's hand! Why was my jewel
entrusted to the care and honour of those who care but for
themselves, and who have suffered the loveliest flower of the
world to be cropped in its early blossom? nay, left it to be
sullied and trodden down in forgetfulness. Lord Douglas, did
you see my daughter perish?''
   ""Now, my liege lord, can I act the man no longer. Forgive
me; and may the holy Virgin, the mother of God, forgive me;
for I indeed saw with these eyes that inestimable treasure
cut off, without one effort on my part to save her, and with-
out a tear wetting my cheeks.''
   ""Then, may all the powers of darkness blast thy soul, thou
unfeeling traitor! Thus! thus will I avenge me on the culprit
who could give up his sovereign's daughter, and his own be-
trothed bride, to a violent death, and that without a tear! O
thou incarnate fiend! shalt thou not bewail this adown the
longest times of eternity? Darest thou not draw against an
injured father and king?''
   ""Put up thy sword, sire. The Douglas draws not but on
his equals, and thou art none of them. Thy person is sacred
and thy frame debilitated. He holds thee inviolate; but he
holds thee also as nothing!''
   ""Thou shalt know, proud lord, that the King of Scotland
fears no single arm, and that he can stand on one limb to
avenge the blood of his royal house.''
   ""My gracious lord, this is the mere raving of a wounded
spirit, and I grieve that I should have for one moment re-
garded it otherwise than with veneration. I had deserved to
die an hundred deaths, if I had known who the dear sufferer
was; but, alas! I knew not ought of the sex or rank of my page,
who was taken prisoner in the great night engagement. But
I can tell you no more, Sire; nor is it needful; you now know
all. I am guiltless as the babe unborn of my royal mistress's
blood; but I will never forgive myself for my negligence and
want of perception; nor do I anticipate any more happiness
in this world. I have been laid under some mysterious restraints,
and have suffered deeply already. And now, my gracious lord,
I submit myself to your awards.''
   ""Alas, Lord Douglas, you are little aware of the treasure
you have lost. Your loss is even greater than mine. It behoves
us, therefore, to lament and bewail our misfortunes together,
rather than indulge in bitter upbraidings.''
   Here they were interrupted by the entrance of the Queen,
who brought with her the Lady Jane Howard, dressed in a
style of eastern magnificence, to introduce her to the King.
The King, amid all the grief that overwhelmed his spirit, was
struck with her great beauty, and paid that respect and homage
to her which high birth and misfortune always command
from the truly great; and the Queen with the newfangledness
of her sex, appeared wholly attached to this captive stranger,
and had brought her down at that time to intercede with the
King and Lord Douglas for her liberty, loading her with
commendations and kind attentions. To check the Queen's
volatility of spirits, the King informed her shortly of the irre-
parable loss both of them had suffered, but the effect was
manifestly not at all proportionate to the cause. She appeared
indeed much moved, and had well nigh fallen into hysterics;
but if her grief was not assumed, it bore strong symptoms of
being so. She first railed at, and then tried to comfort the
Douglas; but finally turned again to Lady Jane, (who wept
bitterly, out of true sympathy, for the Princess's cruel and
untimely fate,) and caressed her, trying to console her in the
most extravagant terms. The King, on the other hand, sobbed
from his inmost soul, and bewailed his loss in terms so
pathetic and moving, that the firm soul of Douglas was over-
come, and he entered into all his Sovereign's feelings with the
keenest sensations. It was a scene of sorrow and despair, which
was rather increased than mitigated by the arrival of two
more who had lately been sent for. These were the monk
Benjamin and the lady Mary Kirkmichael, whom the King
began anew to examine, dwelling on every circumstance that
occurred during the course of his darling child's extravagant
adventure with a painful anxiety. But every now and then he
became heated with anger, blaming some one for the want
of discernment or respect. When he came to examine the
monk, who shewed great energy and acuteness of speech, he
lost his temper altogether at some part of the colloquy; but
the monk was not to be daunted; he repelled every invective
with serenity of voice and manner, and at sundry times rather
put the monarch to shame.
   ""Hadst thou ever an opportunity of confessing and shriving
my child, previous to the time she fell into the hands of her
enemies, reverend brother?''
   ""No Sire, she never made confession to me, nor asked
absolution at my hand.''
   ""And wherefore didst thou not proffer it, thou shriveled
starveling? Were there no grants to bestow? no rich benefices
to confer for the well-being of a royal virgin's soul, that
caused thee to withold these poor alms of grace? Who was it
that bestowed on thy unconscionable order all that they
possess in this realm? And yet thou wilt suffer one of their
posterity to come into thy cell, to ask thy assistance, without
bestowing a mass or benediction for the sake of heaven.''
   ""Sire, it is only to the ignorant and the simple that we
proffer our ghostly rites. Those who are enlightened in the
truths and mysteries of religion it behoves to judge for them-
selves, and to themselves we leave the state of their con-
sciences, in all ordinary cases.'' The monk was robed in a
very wide flowing grey frock, and cowled over the eyes,
while his thin and effeminate-looking beard trembled adown
his breast with the fervency of his address. As he said these
last words, he stretched his right hand forth toward the King,
and raising the left up behind him, his robe was by that means
extended and spread forth in a manner that increased the tiny
monk to triple the size he was before. ""And for you, King of
Scotland,'' added he, raising his keen voice that quavered
with energy, ""I say such a demeanour is unseemly. Is it be-
coming the head and guardian of the Christian church in this
realm,--him that should be a pattern to all in the lower walks
of life,--thus to threat and fume beneath the chastening of
his Maker? You ask me who bestowed these ample bounds
on my order? I ask you in return who it was that bestowed
them on thy progenitors and thee, and for what purpose?
Who gave thee a kingdom, a people, and a family of thy own?
Was it not he before whose altar thou hast this day kneeled,
and vowed to be for him and not for another? And what he
has bestowed has he not a right to require of thee again, in
his own time, and in his own way?'' The King bowed with
submission to the truth of this bold expostulation, and the
impetuous and undaunted monk went on: ""It is rather thy
duty, most revered monarch, to bow with deep humiliation
to the righteous awards of the Almighty, for just and right-
eous they are, however unequal they may appear to the
purblind eyes of mortal men. If he has taken a beloved child
from thee, rest assured that he has only snatched her from
evil to come, and translated her to a better and a happier
home. Why then wilt thou not acknowledge the justice of
this dispensation, and rather speak comfort to the weaker
vessels than give way to ill-timed and unkingly wrath?''
   ""As for thee, noble lord, to the eyes of men thine may
appear a hard lot indeed. For the love of one thou adventuredst
thy life and the very existence of thy house and name. The
stake was prodigious, and when thou hadst won it with great
labour and perseverance, the prize was snatched from thy
grasp. Thy case will to all ages appear a peculiarly hard one;
still there is this consolation in it--''
   ""There is no pain of consolation in it,'' said Douglas
interrupting him: ""There can be none! The blow on my head,
and my hopes of happiness, is irretrievable.''
   ""Yes lord, there is,'' said the monk; ""for has it not been
decreed in heaven above, that this union was never to be
consummated? Man may propose and scheme and lay out
plans for futurity, but it is good for him that the fulfilment
is vested in other hands than his. This then is consolation,
to know that it was predestinated in the counsels of one who
cannot err, that that royal maid never was to be thine; and
therefore all manner of repining is not only unmanly and un-
meet, but sinful. It behoves now thy sovereign, in reward of
thy faithful services, to bestow on thee another spouse with
the same dowry he meant to bestow on his daughter. And it
behoves you to accept of this as the gift of heaven, profferred
to thee in place of the one it snatched from thy grasp. As its
agent, therefore, and the promoter of peace, love, and happi--
ness among men, I propose that King Robert bestow upon
thee this noble and high born dame for thy consort. Both of
you have been bereaved of those to whom you were betrothed,
and it cannot fail to strike every one that this seems a fortune
appointed for you two by Providence; nor can I form in my
mind the slightest objection that can be urged to it on either
side. It is desirable on every account, and may be the means
of promoting peace between the two sister kingdoms, wasted
by warfare and blood, which every true Christian must deplore.
I propose it as a natural consequence, and a thing apparently
foreordained by my master; and give my voice for it. King
and Queen of Scotland what say you?''
   ""I hold the matter that this holy and enlightened brother
has uttered to be consistent with truth, reason, and religion,''
said the King,--""and the union has my hearty and free
approval. I farther promise to behave to this lady as a father
to a daughter, and to bestow upon our trusty and leal cousin,
the Lord Douglas, such honours, power, and distinction as
are most due for the great services rendered to this realm. The
match has my hearty concurrence.''
   ""And mine,'' said the Queen: ""I not only acquiesce in the
reverend brother's proposal, but I lay my commands on my
noble kinsman the Lord Douglas to accept of this high boon
of heaven.''
   ""Pause my sovereign lady,'' said the Douglas, ""before you
proceed too far. In pity to the feelings that rend this bosom,
let me hear no more of the subject at present. In pity to that
lovely and angelic lady's feelings, that must be acute as my
own, I implore that you will not insist farther in this proposal.
Do not wound a delicate female breast, pressed down by
misfortunes.''
   ""This is something like affectation, Lord Douglas,'' re-
joined the Queen; ""If I answer for the lady Jane's consent,
what have you then to say against this holy brother's
proposal?''
   ""Ay, if your Queen stand security for the lady's consent,
and if <1I stand security for it likewise,''>1 said the monk--""what
have you to say against the union then? Look at her again,
lord. Is not she <1a lovely>1 and <1angelic>1 being? Confess the truth
now. For I know it to be the truth, that never since you
could distinguish beauty from deformity, have your eyes
beheld <1so lovely>1 and <1so angelic>1 a lady? Pressed down by mis-
fortunes, too! Does that not add a triple charm to all her
excellencies? You know what has been done for her? what
has been suffered for her? what a noble and gallant life was
laid down for her? Was such a sacrifice ever made for a lady
or princess of your own country? No, never, heroic lord!
Therefore bless your stars that have paved out a way for your
union with such a <1lovely, angelic,>1 and <1matchless lady;>1 and
take her to your longing and aching bosom.''
   ""Moderate your fervour, holy brother,'' said the Douglas,
""which appears to me rather to be running to unwarrantable
extremes. Granting that the lady Jane Howard is perhaps
unequalled in beauty and elegant accomplishment---''
   ""Is she not so? Is she not so?'' cried the monk with a fervour
that raised his voice to a scream of passion: ""Did I not say
that she was? And now am I not warranted by your own
sentiments, <1freely expressed>1 enough. Sure, lord, you cannot
deny that I said, that I told you, the lady was <1peerless in>1
<1beauty and accomplishments?>1 I knew it, and told you before
that she was <1the queen of beauty.>1 Why then do you hesitate,
and make all this foolish opposition to an union which we all
know you are eager to consummate? Yes, you are: And we all
know it. You are!''
   ""Holy brother, what unaccountable phrenzy has seized
upon you,'' said the Douglas; ""and why all this extravagant
waste of declamation? Let me not hear another sentence,
nor another word on the subject: only suffer me to finish
what I had begun. I say then, granting that the lady Jane were
peerless in beauty and accomplishments, still there is an im-
pression engraven on my heart that can never be removed, or
give place to another; and there will I cherish it as sacred, till
the day of my death. And, that no reckless importunity may
ever be wasted on me again, here I kneel before the holy rood,
which I kiss, and swear before God and his holy angels, that
since I have been bereaved of the sovereign mistress of my
heart and all my affections,--of her in whom all my hopes of
happiness in this world were placed, and who to me was all in
all of womankind--that, never shall another of the sex be
folded in the arms of Douglas, or call him husband! So help
me thou Blessed One, and all thy holy saints and martyrs, in
the performance of this vow!''
   During the time of this last speech and solemn oath, the
sobs of the monk Benjamin became so audible that all eyes
were turned to him, for they thought that his delicate frame
would burst with its emotions. And, besides, he was all the
while fumbling about his throat, so that they dreaded he had
purposed some mortal injury to himself. But in place of that,
he had been unloosing some clasps or knots about his tunick:
for with a motion quicker than thought, he flung at once his
cowl, frock, and beard away,--and there stood arrayed as a
royal bride the Princess Margaret of Scotland! ""Journeyer of
earth, where art thou now?''
   Yes; there stood, in one moment, disclosed to the eyes of
all present, <1the princess Margaret Stuart herself,>1 embellished
in all the ornaments of virgin royalty, and blooming in a glow
of new born beauties.
   ""Thank heaven I have been deceived!'' cried she, with great
emphasis; and when she had said this, she stood up motionless
by the side of lady Jane Howard, and cast her eyes on the
ground. No pen can do justice to the scene. It must be left
wholly to conception, after the fact is told that no one
present had the slightest conception of the disguise save the
Queen, who had been initiated into the princess's project of
trying the real state of the Douglas's affections on the pre-
ceding night. It was like a scene of enchantment, such as
might have been produced at the castle of Aikwood. But a
moment ago all was sorrow and despair; now all was one
burst of joyful surprise. And, to make it still more interesting,
there stood the two rival beauties of Scotland and England,
side by side, as if each were vying with the other for the palm
to be bestowed on her native country. But to this day the
connoisseurs in female beauty have never decided whether
the dark falcon eyes and lofty forehead of the one, or the soft
blushing roses and blue liquid eyes of the other, were the
most irresistible.
   The King was the first to burst from the silence of surprise.
He flew to his daughter's arms with more vigour than a cripple
could well be supposed to exert, kissed and embraced her,
took her on his knee and wept on her neck; then, striking his
crutch on the floor, he scolded her most heartily for the
poignant and unnecessary pain she had occasioned to him.
""And the worst of it is,'' added he, ""that you have caused me
show too much interest in an imp that has been the constant
plague of my life with her whims and vagaries; an interest,
and an intensity of feeling, that I shall be ashamed of the
longest day I have to live.''
   ""Indeed but you shall not, my dear lord and father, for I
now teaze another than you, and teaze him only to deeds of
valour and renown; to lead your troops to certain conquest,
till you are fully avenged of the oppressors of your people.''
   Mary Kirkmichael hung by her seymar and wept. The
Douglas kneeled at her feet, and in ecstacy took her hand and
pressed it to his lips. ""I do not know whether or not I shall
have reason to bless heaven all my life for this singular
restoration,'' said he; ""but for the present I do it with all my
heart. Tell me, thou lovely cameleon, what am I to think of
this? Wert thou indeed, as was related to me, the page Colin
Roy Macalpin? He with the carroty locks and the flippant
tongue?''
   ""You need not doubt it, lord Douglas. I was. And I think
during our first intimacy that I teazed you sufficiently,''
   ""Then that delicate neck of yours, for all its taper form
and lily hue is a charmed one, and ropeproof; for, as sure
as I look on you now, I saw you swing from a beam's end
on the battlement of this same tower.''
   ""Oh! no, no, my lord! It was not I. Never trust this head
again if it should suffer its neck to be noosed. <1You>1 suffered
it though; that you must confess. And I dare say, though a
little sorry, felt a dead weight removed from about your neck.
You suffered me to be taken prisoner out of your tent, and
mured up among rude and desperate men in a dungeon. It
cost me all my wits then to obtain my release. But I effected
it. Swung from a beam's end, quoth he! Och! what a vulgar
idea! No my lord, the page whom you saw swung was <1a tailor's>1
<1apprentice,>1 whom I hired to carry a packet up to your lord-
ship, with my green suit of clothes, and a promise of a high
place of preferment, and I kept my word to the brat. An
intolerable ape it was. Many better lives have been lost in
this contention; few of less value--I never deemed he was so
soon to be strung, and my heart smote me for the part I had
acted. But the scheme of turning monk and confessor suited
me best of all: I then got my shacles of mystery riveted on
you; and, heaven! what secrets I have found out.''
   At this part of the narrative, Isaac the curate bestows a
whole chapter and a half on the description of the wedding,
and all the processions, games, and feasting that ensued; but
as none of these things bore the slightest resemblance to
ought that has ever been witnessed in the present age, like a
judicious editor I have passed them over. Suffice it that the
Border never witnessed such splendor of array, such tourna-
ments, such feasting, and such high wassail. For why? because
it never witnessed the marriage of a king's daughter before.
The streets of the city, and the square of the fortress, that
had so lately been dyed with blood, now ""ran red with
Rhenish wine.'' And be it farther known, that Sir Charles
Scott and his horse Corbie bore off every prize in the tilting
matches, till at last no knight would enter the lists with him;
but the fair dames were all in raptures with the gallantry of
his bearing, and the suavity of his manners. As for the Queen,
she became so much enamoured of the hero, that she was
scarcely to be kept in due bounds, and if she had not been
advanced in years he might have deemed she was in love with
him. In the lists she drew up her snow-white palfrey by
Corbie's side, and in the revel hall the royal dame herself was
sure to be at the knight's side, except when at table, on
pretence of hearing something more about his perils at Aik-
wood, and in particular about the scene with the beautiful
and splendid witches; at which, as Sir Charles related it with
abashed countenance, the Queen and her Maries laughed till
the salt tears ran from their eyes. As for the description of
their appearance the succeeding morning, and the feelings of
the warrior, both then and afterwards when transformed to a
huge bull, these never failed to throw the gamesome group
into convulsions of mirth. In short, the knight of Raeburn
was of all the gallants quite the favourite at that splendid
festival in the hall, as well as the hero in the lists, in which he
six times received the prize of honour from the hands of the
royal bride and those of lady Jane Howard, who, at the
Queen's earnest request was made principal bride's-maid, and
presiding lady at the sports.
   But if Charles was the hero of those engaged in the games,
his friend the gospel friar was as completely so among the gay
onlookers, and created them more sport often than all in the
lists. Ever since the various affrays in which his mule had
been engaged, and come off with such decided success, the
mongrel had learned to value himself solely as a beast of war-
fare, and no man who rode near him was sure of keeping his
seat a minute, especially if he rode a high mettled and cap-
ricious charger. By the side of a horse of modesty that bore
himself with candour and humility of countenance, the mule
was a beast of sociality and decorum; but whenever he saw a
steed begin to cut any unnecessary capers, he deemed himself
insulted or put to the challenge, and on the instant began to
lay back his long ears and switch with his tail, while his grey
sunk eyes emitted a hellish gleam. It was no matter at what
distance such a horse made his appearance, if the mule dis-
liked his deportment, he would have flown across a whole
field to attack and humble him. He had borne his master head-
long into so many unpremeditated and unwarrantable scuffles
since his return from Aikwood, that he had bestowed on him
the name of Goliah of Gath; and besides giving him that
veteran title, he often averred that he believed one of the
necromancer's imps of darkness had taken possession of his
beast.
   The friar had, however, learned to distinguish all his motions,
and knew from these the exact points and stages of his irritat-
ion; and when his offence began to reach its acme, he had no
other resource than that of wheeling his head forcibly around,
and turning his tail toward the object of his displeasure. With-
out this precaution, the friar would have been carried into
the lists every day merely to gratify the spleen of Goliah,
who could not endure the curvetting and jangling that was
going on there. And even this inverse precaution did not at all
times prove effectual, as in the following pleasant instance.
   It chanced one day that the knight of Kraeland entered
the lists alone, no opponent appearing against him, owing to
some mistake made in the arrangement by the officers. He
was a goodly youth, but uplifted above the earth with vanity,
and of his vapouring and airs there were no end. Imagining
that he attracted the eyes of all the beholders, and elated
because no one had the courage to appear against him, for so
he affected to regard the circumstance, he paraded the circle
round and round, brandished his lance, and made his horse
to curvette, rear, and wheel, accomplishing many grand evolu-
tions. The lookers on were all beginning to get sick of him,
and to view his vapourous manoeuvres with disdain, but
amongst them all there was none so much moved with spleen
as Goliah of Gath. From the first moment that the knight
entered the lists that uncircumcised Philistine began to mani--
fest a mortal dislike towards him: the more so it was believed
that he was mounted on a milkwhite steed, a colour pecularly
disagreeable to the mule's optics. The judges of the games
wist not what to do, and appealed to the King, who gave it as
his opinion that this unchallenged appearance should be
accounted as a victory, and that the knight should take his
course in the next round; and the heralds got directions to
make proclamation accordingly.
   But long before this period the friar had been compelled to
turn away the face of Goliah from this scene of vanity, and,
as chance would have had it, he was in the innermost circle,
so that retreat outward through the innumerable files was
utterly impracticable, and there sat the gruff uncourtly form
of the gospel friar, with the tail of his beast where the head
should have been, to the great amusement of the spectators.
For all this the malevolent eye of Goliah, as well accustomed
to look backward as forward, perceived all the outrageous
rearings and snortings of that proud and gaudy animal, and
became moved with so much indignation that he would no
longer be restrained, either by bit or spur, soothing or
threatening. Just as the herald had taken his place to make
proclamation, the mule fell a running backward; and the
more fiercely that the friar spurred, and the more bitterly he
threatened, the beast of Belial retrogaded the faster, till at
last, after two or three intemperate plunges, he got his head
straight to the white charge, and then in one moment he was
upon him, and had him by the brisket with his teeth. The
horse reared furiously, but the mule pressed still closer to
him, fixing his long teeth in the horse's shoulder, till on a
sudden, in an attempt to clear both Goliah and his rider, or,
at least, to leap over the mule's neck, the white steed was
overturned, and thrown right on his back, above his over-
weening rider. All this was transacted in a space of time
shorter than the time taken up in reading the relation; and the
moment that Goliah of Gath had achieved this overthrow, he
wheeled about with a mettledness and inveteracy beyond all
description, and attacked the couple with his heels, prostrate
as they were, yerk for yerk, indiscriminately. The friar sunk
the rowels of his spurs to the head in his sides, and uttered
some strong declamatory sentences against him in the style
of the nations of the East; but Goliah plied his iron-heels
still the faster, although he groaned, as he kicked, in the
bitterness of his spirit. The scene was perfectly irresistible,
grievous as the consequences threatened to be on the one
side. The lists were all in convulsions of laughter, and involun-
tary shouts of applause shook the storeys of the firmament.
The King laughed till he sunk down in his litter, and his
attendants had some fears that he would expire in a convulsive
fit.  The knight of Kraeland was carried out of the lists,
maimed, and in a state of insensibility; and the friar, maugre
all he could advance in opposition to the award, was pro-
claimed the victor in that course, and obliged to appear in the
next encounter in opposition to the knight who has been the
conqueror in the preceding combat.
   Had Goliah of Gath, restrained his wrath when this conquest
was achieved, it would have been all very well, save for
Kraeland and his white charger; but the mongrel's wrath once
aroused was not easily abated. Therefore, when the friends
of the fallen knight and his squire forced the Philistine to
forego his attack and battery, his gleaming eyes glanced all
around for another proper object whereon to wreak his
horrid revenge. Now it so happened, that the Queen and her
Maries were all mounted on white palfreys; and as these stood
in the inner circles, arching their proud necks, and champing
the bits, he was moved with choler against them, and resolved
within himself to give them a surprise, and shew them the
prowess of a veteran warrior; for, over and above their saucy
demeanor, the glaring whiteness of colour that pervaded them
and their riders his heart could not endure: And, besides all
these, the shouts and laughter of the multitude were thought
to have added greatly to his ire. The friar, who knew him well,
said so; ""for'' added he, ""the shouts of joy and laughter are
unto him as a portion of gall and of worm-wood.'' Certes,
when he was driven from the prostrate champion, by dint of
club and lance, he straightway laid back his long ears, and
with a swiftness hardly imaginable, scoured the plain to the
attack of the dames and their strutting genets. The friar soon
perceived the dangerous dilemma into which he was about to
be precipitated; and, all unable to restrain this champion of
the Philistines, he cried out with a loud voice, ""O wretched
man that I am! lo, I shall work destruction among the daughters
of women! Will no man come to the assistance of those who
have no strength of man at all? Wo is me! will the mighty men
stand and look on till the daughters of their people are cut
off from the face of the earth?''
   Long ere this sentence had proceeded out of the friar's
mouth, the work of deray and confusion was begun. The
column of white palfreys were routed in one moment, and
their gentle and affrighted riders kicked off in pairs, like so
many diving swans. Never was there a warrior like Goliah of
Gath! for he tore with his teeth, and struck with both hind
feet and fore feet, all at the same instant. The Queen of
Scotland would in all probability have been laid low with the
rest, had it not been for the prowess of her favourite hero,
who sprung from Corbie's back, and seized the audacious
mule by the bridle. ""Smite him, my son!'' cried the friar,
with a loud voice: ""Draw thou forth thy sword, and smite
him to the earth, for it is better for him to die than to live.''
   The mule thought to prove contumacious at the first; but
feeling Charlie's powerful grasp, he calmed himself, turned
the one ear back, the other forward, and switched his tail,
listening with much gratification to the hysterical cries of
the discomfited damsels. Not so his master, who was grieved
in spirit, and very wroth with his old servant and companion;
insomuch that when he alighted from his back, and seized
his curb, he exclaimed, ""O thou limb of the wicked one!
Thou emblem of the evil principle working in the children
of disobedience! What shall I do unto thee? Lo, now, if I had
a sword in mine hand, would I not strike thy head from off
thy body, and cause thee to be buried with the burial of an
ass?'' The mule let his ears fall down very wide asunder, like
the horns of a Lancashire ox, putting on a face of great
humility, as he looked out from beneath his heavy eyebrows,
with many a sly demure glance at the friar's face. The good
man led him around the lists in search of an opening to get
out, for he durst not again mount him for fear of being
instrumental in some farther outrage among the ranks of the
great and the noble. As he passed by the King, his Majesty
caused him to be called up into his presence, and asked him
what sum it would please him to ask as the price of his mule?
   ""Verily, my lord, O King,'' answered the friar, with great
readiness, ""that beast hath been unto thy servant as a friend
and an inheritance. He hath borne me over the mountains of
Palestine, and hath drunk from the fords of Jordan, as well
as from Abana and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus. Yea,
bestriding that woful beast, hath thy servant fought the
battles of the cross; and the hooves that have in thy sight
been lifted up against the fair and the lovely, the meek and
the innocent, have been dyed red in the blood of infidels.
Money is of no avail to thy servant; and he cannot part with
his old and trusty companion, even though the spirit of
those that are cursed from the heavens be in him.''
   ""Then wilt thou come thyself unto me at the Scottish
court? ' said the King to him, somewhat in his own style,--
""and I will cherish both thee and thy doughty companion,
and thou shalt minister unto me in holy things, and shalt
be unto me as a father, and I and my children will be to thee
as sons and as daughters; for my trusty and well tried friend,
Sir Ringan of Mountcomyn, saith well of thee and of thy
great wisdom, valour, and prudence.''
   ""Verily, most noble King, I have yet many things to
accomplish in other lands than this, which, by the strength
of the Lord, must be fulfilled; when these are finished, then
shall thy servant come unto thee, and visit thee for good.''
   ""And thou shalt be a welcome guest,'' said the King: ""Wear
thou this ring for my sake, which I give thee as a pledge of
friendship, and of protection through my kingdom. Remain
in the lists, for thou hast yet battle to do against two knights
of the lance and the sword.''
   ""Lo, I will even strike with the sword and the spear, if my
lord the King commandeth it. But I lack armour, and am not
a man of war, save when the lives of the innocent or the
cause of the cross is at stake. And, moreover, the beast that
thou seest is as a beast of the bottomless pit; he hath antipath-
ies and sympathies of his own; and instead of bearing me
full force against my opponent, he may carry me to make
war against women and children. Nevertheless, I will do all
that it behooveth me to do. Who are my adversaries?''--He
was told they were the knights of Gemelscleuch and Raeburn.
--""Then God do so to me, and more also, if I lift up my hand
against any of these my brethren, the men of my right hand,
and the preservers of my life. Neither will one of them put
his spear in rest against me; so that the battle would perish.
Thy servant is not afraid to fight, but as a gladiator he is un-
willing to exhibit; therefore my lord, O King, suffer him to
depart in peace.''
   These reasons were cogent, so the King admitted them;
and the worthy and heroic friar was suffered to lead off
Goliah of Gath, amid thundering shouts of applause.
                        CHAPTER XXXI

   This general doctrine of the text explained, I proceed, in what remains of this
discourse, to point out to you three important and material considerations con-
cerning the nature and character of woman. These shall be, 1<1stly>1, What she was;
2<1dly,>1 What she is; and, 3<1dly>1, what she will be hereafter. And are not these, my
brethren, matters of high importance?
                                            <1Dickson's Sermons.>1



ALL things of this world wear to an end, saith Isaac; so also
did this high Christmas festival within the halls and towers
of Roxburgh. The lady Jane had borne a principal share
in all the sports, both in and out of doors. In the hall she was
led up to every dance, and in the lists she presided as the
queen of the games, distributing the prizes with her own fair
hands to the Scottish heroes, and, of course, crowning her old
friend Charlie with the bays at least once a day. Sir Charles
was a most unassuming character, and seldom adventured on
addressing his superiors first. But when once they addressed
discourse to him, he never failed answering them with perfect
ease and unconcern; and often, as is well known ere this
time, with more volubility than he himself approved of. Once,
and only once during all these days of his triumph and high
honours, did the lady Jane remember him of having brought
her into captivity, and of the high bribe he had refused for
her liberty. ""An' if it be your will, honoured lady, I wish ye
wadna say ony mair about that matter,'' said Sir Charles;
""for mony queer fidgetty kind o' feelings I hae had about it
sinsyne. And if I had kend then what I ken now,--if I had
kend wha I had in my arms, and what I had in my arms, I had
nae borne the honours that I wear the day. My heart had some
sair misgivings aince about you, when there were hard news
gaun of your great jeopardy; but now that you are in sic high
favour, I am e'en glad that I brought you, for troth ye hae a
face and a form that does ane good to look at.''
   The lady Jane only sighed at this address, and looked down,
thinking, without doubt, of the long and dismal <1widowhood>1
which it would behoove her to keep for the dismal end of her
betrothed knight, and then a virgin widowhood too, which
was the worst of all. There was an obscure glimpse of the
same sort of ideas glanced on Charlie's mind as he viewed her
downcast blushing countenance; and afraid of giving birth to
any painful sensations in such a lovely lady's mind, he desisted
from further conversation.
  The Queen was still so much interested in that lady as to
endeavour by all means to procure her liberty without any
ransom, somewhat contrary to her son-in-law's opinion. The
Queen reasoned, that she was not a lawful prisoner of war;
the Douglas that she was, there being no bond of peace sub-
sisting between the nations, and she entering Scotland with
forged credentials, at least signed and sealed in favour of
another and non-existing person. She applied to the King,
who gave his consent, but, at the same time, professed having
nothing to do in the matter. At length she teazed Lord
Douglas so much that he resolved to indulge her Majesty
before the court took leave of him, but to leave it until the
very last day. He, however, reckoned before his host; for
now that the abbot of Melrose had conjoined him with roy-
alty, he found that he had at the very least two to please
instead of one.
   Here, we must, with that regard to veracity which so well be-
comes every narrator of a true tale, divulge a disagreeable se-
cret;that is, we must delineate truly a trait in the character of
our heroine, the lady Douglas, (lately the princess Margaret of
Scotland,) which we would rather have concealed, had it been
possible to have done so. But she could not conceal it any lon-
ger herself,--and why should Isaac and I vex ourselves about it;
for one day when Mary Kirkmichael waited on her in her cham-
ber, she found her drowned in tears, and with great perplexity,
and no less curiosity, set herself to discover the cause.
   ""What? My dearest and most noble lady in tears?'' ex-
claimed she. ""Now, a plague on these teazing, battling, bois-
terous, deluding creatures called men, that will not let poor
innocent maids alone to live at heart's ease, but hold them
thus in constant ferment, married or unmarried! Well did I
ween from experience, that the maiden's troubles were the
most insufferable to be borne! The neglects--the disappointed
hopes--the fears--and, above all, the jealousies! Oh these
jealousies! What infernal tormentors they are! But now little
wot I what to say, or what to think; for beshrew me if I re-
member the time when I saw my royal mistress in tears before.
Let me recollect. No, not since dame Mary Malcolm's palfrey
leaped the ravine before the lords of Huntly and Athol, and
yours refused. Then, indeed, you wept; and when I laughed
you struck me. Yes, you know you struck me, and that had
nearly made matters worse.''
   ""Pray, madam,'' said lady Douglas, ""could you conve-
niently command yourself so far as to bring a surgeon here
on the instant?''
   ""A surgeon! Sanct Marie's grace! what is your ailment, my
dearest lady?''
   ""It is not for myself, it is for you I want him. You are very
ill of a quinsey, dame, and bleeding below the tongue is
necessary. Go bring my father's leech to me, without delay,
and come with him.''
   ""You have not forgot your sweet maiden frolics for all that
is come and all that is done. Well, I am glad you are still in
that whimsical humour. I was afraid you were grievously vexed
or disappointed at something in your new state.''
   ""Step forth, I say, and bring me in a surgeon, for I insist
on having you bleeded under the tongue. You are very ill in-
deed, and the disease is infectious.''
   ""By my maidhood, and by your own, sweet lady, (the
Douglas's I mean,) there shall no leech that ever drew lancet
open a vein in my blessed and valuable member. No, not were
it to humour a queen, or a <1lady Jane Howard.>1 ''
   ""Now, may all the plagues that prey on the heart of wo-
man seize and torment thee if thou hast not guessed the cause
of my uneasiness. There's a latent devil within thee that whis-
pers to thy imagination the thoughts that are passing in my
heart. O Kirkmichael, I am ill! I have suffered many distresses
in my time! many, many distresses!''
   ""Yes, indeed you have, my royal mistress! many, many
distresses!''
   ""Bring the surgeon, I say. Cannot you, for the life of you,
compose yourself for a little space, when you see me in such
distress? Your royal mistress, Mary? I am no royal mistress
now! No, I a'nt! Nothing but a plain jog-trot wife of a lord,
or earl, or how do you call that beautiful title? While the lady
Jane Howard!--Oh Kirkmichael, I cannot tell you the half of
what I feel!''
   ""I know it all. Jealousy! my dear lady, jealousy! Think
you I know not what it is to suffer that? Do you remember
young Spinola, that came to our court from the places abroad?
He loved me the best after all; I had certain demonstrative
proofs of it. But do you know what I suffered? Racks, tor-
tures, strangulations! Fiends tearing out my eyes, pouring
hellebore into my ears, and boring through my heart with red
hot irons! Not know what jealousy is? Was not I telling your
royal self the last minute''--
   ""Mary! stop, and be advised. You are very ill.''
   ""I humbly ask forgiveness. I was coming to it. Dear lady, I
have noted your trouble these nine days past, and that it was
still gaining ground. But I can partly account for it, so that,
with a little prudence and patience, it may be removed. Ever
since the day on which you was a bride, or the one following
perhaps, there has been more court and more flattery paid to
the southern beauty than to the northern one. It is the course
of nature, madam; you are now a married wife, and your
charms must be admired at a distance with respect and awe.
The maid must still be courted and flattered. Quite natural,
madam, I assure you. Think you any knight durst caper and
bow, and prate to the lady Douglas, as they do to <1the>1
<1English puppet?''>1
   "Mary, I will give you all my wedding apparel for these
two last words. Is not she a mere puppet, without soul or
magnanimity? But--Mary! --How gladly would I change places
with her, Mary! She has conquered after all. Yes: She has con-
quered Margaret Stuart, there is no denying of it to one's own
heart.''
   ""Gramercy, dearest lady, are you not raving? Has not the
noble lord of your adoption proved victorious, and gained
you with all honour and approbation?''
   ""But then the lord of <1her>1 adoption <1died>1 for her, Mary.
Think of that. The gallant, faithful, and magnanimous Mus-
grave <1died>1 for the mistress of his affections. But who died for
the poor degraded lady Margaret of Scotland? I am conquered
with my own weapons. There is no denying of it! I would
rather that one lover had laid down his life for me than have
had fifty husbands.''
   ""Palpably wrong! I'll prove it. Fifty husbands! How delight-
ful--beg pardon, madam.''
   ""I tried the Douglas hardly for it. But he was too selfish,
and would not die for me. Base, cruel knight! No, he <1would>1
<1not>1 die for me; even though I got him to believe that I was
put to death, and my ghost haunting him, yet he <1would not>1
kill himself. What a value those monstrous men set upon their
lives! Musgrave died. Lady Jane has conquered, and I am
<1married!>1 I wish I were dead, Kirkmichael! ''
   "" Tis a pity but that you were, madam! If ladies are to live
on these terms with the world, they had better be out of it.
For you know if the man that one loves best will not conde-
scend always to die when the gratification of his mistress'
vanity requires it, why there is an end of all endurance. I man-
aged otherwise with young Spinola.''
   ""Mention the name of your Spinola again to me for the
head that stands on your body, since you deprecate the more
gentle prescription of bleeding below the tongue; and now
find me some anodyne without delay for the distemper that
is preying on my vitals. None of your jeers and your jibes,
Kirkmichael, for I am not in humour to bear them. The worst
thing of all is yet to come. This puppet,--this painted doll,--
this thing of wax!  after triumphing over me in my own
country and among my own people,--after being died for,
while I was only lived for,--after being courted, and flattered,
and smiled on, while I was only bowed to and gazed on,--
after being caressed by my father, and bedaubed with praises
by my newfangled and volatile mother,--after all this, I say,
there is she going to be set at liberty, and without all question
wedded to one of the royal dukes, one of the princes of the
blood! How shall the blood of the Bruce and the spirit of the
Stuart brook this? Before I heard of that lady's name, I knew
not what jealousy was. Ever since that time has she held me
in misery. I thought I had once achieved the greatest con-
quest that ever was accomplished by heroine. And I <1did>1
seize a noble prize! How has it turned out?--in every instance
to her honour, and my disparagement. And there, through the
unnatural fondness of my doating mother, will she return
home, and be courted for her princely fortune, not for her
beauty I am sure! But then, they will hear that the bravest
and most chivalrous knight in England <1died for her;>1 and as
certainly as I speak to you, will she achieve a higher marriage
than Margaret, and how shall she ever show her face again?''
   ""A higher marriage than you, dearest lady? Then must she
be married to some of the kings on the continent, for in all
the dominion of England there is not a subject of such power
as your lord, the Earl of Douglas and Mar, nor one whose
military honours flourish so proudly.''
   ""My lord and husband is all that I could wish in man,
only---''
   ""Only that he is <1not dead.>1 That's all.''
   ""You had better! <1Only>1 I say that he is not <1a prince of the>1
<1blood royal,>1 Mary. Think of that. There are many such in
England. And there to a certainty will my great and only
rival be wedded to one of these. The Duke of York or
Glocester, mayhap; or to Prince Henry, the heir of the house
of Mortimer, and then she'll be <1a queen!>1 Yes, Kirkmichael!
then she will be <1queen of England!>1--And I--what will I be?
No more than plain <1Lady Douglas!>1 The wife of <1the Black>1
<1Douglas!>1--Och! what shall I do, Mary? I'll go and wipe my
shoes on her as long as I have it in my power.''
   "Marry for a small space; there is time enough for that
afterward, my dearest lady. Be staid for a little while, till I tell
you a secret. A very important and profound one it is, and it
behoves you to know it. There is a certain distemper that
young newly married ladies are subjected to, which is en-
titled PHRENZY, or some such delightful name. Some call it
<1derangement of intellect,>1 but that is too long a name, I hate
long names, or very long things of any sort. So you must
know, madam, that this delightful trouble, for it is delightful
in its way, produces a great deal of animation. It is quite pro-
per you should know this grand matrimonial secret, madam.
This delicious, spirit-stirring trouble then soon goes off, and
when it goes all the giddy vapours of youth fly with it. The
mirror of the eye is changed, its convex being thence turned
inward, reflecting all nature on the soul in a different light
from that in which it had ever appeared before; and, at the
same time the whole structure and frame of the character is
metamorphosed, and the being that is thus transmuted be-
comes a more rational and respectable creature than it was
previously; and at the same time a more happy one, although
it must be acknowledged its happiness is framed on a different
model. This is my secret, and it is quite proper that every
<1young>1 lady who is married should be initiated into it. As for
the old ones, they are too wise to be initiated into any thing,
or for anything to be initiated into them.''
   ""Now, you imagine you have said a very wise thing; and it
is not without shrewdness. But I can add a principal part
which you have wholly left out, and it is this: When the pa-
tient is labouring under this disease, it is absolutely necessary
that she be indulged, and humoured in every one of her ca-
prices, else her convalesence is highly equivocal. Don't you
acknowledge this?''
   ""I grant it. And the first case that comes under my care I
promise to abide by this prescription.''
   ""That is spoken like yourself,--like the trusty friend and
confidante. What then is to be done? for something must be
done, and that suddenly.''
   ""That is easily decided. She must be kept in confinement.
Kept here a prisoner at large, until she turn an old maid and
lose a few of her fore-teeth. That will be delightful! Eh! Then
make her believe all the time that it is a duty incumbent on
her to remain in that widowed state for the sake of Musgrave--
Hoh! beg pardon, madam!''
   ""I charge you never to let that triumph of hers sound in my
ears again. It creates the same feeling within me as if you in-
formed me that an adder was laced in my stays. Kirkmichael,
you never took any thing in hand that you did not accom-
plish for me. This lady must be retained for the present, till
we can determine on some other course. I gave my lord a
lesson about it already, but his reply was not only unsatis-
factory but mortifying in the extreme. It has almost put me
beside myself, and my pride will not suffer me to apply to
him again. ""My dearest love,'' said he, ""I pray that you will
not shew a sense of any inferiority by a jealousy of that
unfortunate lady.'' Inferiority! I never had such a sentiment
as a feeling of inferiority! What absurd notions these men
imbibe. Is it possible, Mary, that I can have a sense of in-
feriority?''
   ""No, no! quite impossible! Think no more of such anti-
quated and absurd apothegms as these.I will manage it for
      you. I take in hand to keep her as long as I live, if that will
satisfy you. But are you sure that your brother will not fall in
love with her, and marry her, and then she will be queen of
Scotland?''
   ""Ooh!--Oooh! Give me a drink, Mary. I am going into fits!
Ooh!--Yes: as sure as you stand there, he will. The prince is
his mother all over, newfangled and volatile in the extreme,
and amorous to an intolerable degree. Disgustingly amorous,
she is the very sort of food for his passion. Then her princely
fortune, and the peace of the two realms! Oh! give me another
drink, Mary; and bathe my hands--and my brow--That is
kindly done. Queen of Scotland! Then I must pay court to
her,--perhaps be preferred as lady of the bedchamber. No,
no. To the Scottish court she <1must not go!''>1
   ""Be calm, my sweet lady! I have it. You shall assume your
brother's character once more--pay court to her--seduce her,
and have her disgraced.''
   ""What did you say, Kirkmichael? repeat that again. What
did you say about disgracing? I am so very ill.''
   ""O no! That scheme will not do. It will end ill! it will end
ill! You are lady Douglas now, not the maiden princess. Why,
I will get her married to one of your footmen for you. That
will do.''
   ""Prithee speak of things possible, and within some bounds
of probability. If she were but married to a knight but one
step below my lord in dignity, I would be satisfied. Nay, were
that step only ideal it would give my heart content.''
   ""Is that then so much to make such a pother about? I will
accomplish it in two days. So difficult to get a maid of her
complexion to marry? Difficulty in fattening--a pig! baiting a
   cook for a bagrel!--a stickleback!--a perch! I'll do it in two
days--in one day--in half a day, else never call me Mary
Kirkmichael of Balmedie again. Difficulty in marrying a maid
with light blue eyes--golden locks and rosy cheeks--with a
languishing smile always on her countenance? and that maid
an English one too? Peugh! Goodbye, my lady, Lady Black
Douglas. I'm off. (Opening the door again.) It is a shame and
a disgrace for any gentleman not to <1die>1 for his mistress! I say it
is! Young Spinola would have died for me cheerfully if I
would have suffered him,--that he would! Goodbye, madam.''
   Mary was as busy all the remaining part of that day as ever
was a bee in a meadow. She had private business with the
Queen, and had art or interest enough to get two private
audiences. She had business with the lady Jane Howard; a
word to say to the King, and two or three to the lord Douglas
--But it is a great loss that these important disclosures cannot
be imparted here--for every word that she told to each of
them was a profound secret! Not a word of it ever to be re-
peated till death! What a loss for posterity! It had one qua-
lity, there was not a word of truth in all this important dis-
closure; but an ingenious lie by a woman is much more
interesting than one of her true stories. There was, however,
one of Mary Kirkmichael's secrets came to light, though none
of those above-mentioned; and from the complexion of that,
a good guess may be made at the matter of all the rest.
   Sir Charles Scott, alias Muckle Charlie of Yardbire, was
standing at the head of his hard-headed Olivers, his grimy
Potts, and his skrae-shankit Laidlaws, in all amounting now to
140 brave and well appointed soldiers. He had them all
dressed out in their best light uniform, consisting of deer-skin
jackets with the hair outside; buckskin breeches, tanned white
as snow, with the hair inside; blue bonnets as broad as the rim
of a lady's spinning wheel, and clouted single-soaled shoes. He
was training them to some evolutions for a grand parade before
the King, and was himself dressed in his splendid battle array,
with his plumes and tassels of gold. His bonnet was of the
form of a turban, and his tall nodding plumes consisted of
three fox tails, two of them dyed black, and the middle one
crimson. A goodlier sight than Sir Charles at the head of his
borderers, no eye of man (or woman either) ever beheld. As
he stood thus giving the word of command, and brandishing
the Eskdale souple by way of example, in the great square in
the middle of the fortress, a little maid came suddenly to his
side and touched him. Charles was extending his voice at the
time, and the interruption made him start inordinately, and
cut a loud syllable short in the middle. The maid made a low
courtesy, while Charles stooped forward and looked at her as
a man does who has dropt a curious gem or pin on the ground,
and cannot find it. ""Eh? God bless us, what is't hinny? Ye
war amaist gart me start.''
   ""My mistress requests a few minutes private conversation
with you, sir knight.''
   ""Whisht dame! speak laigh,'' said Sir Charles, half whis-
pering, and looking raised-like at his warriors: ""Wha's your
mistress, my little bonny dow? Eh? Oh you're nodding and
smirking, are you? Harkee, It's no the auld Queen, is it? Eh?''
   ""You will see who it is presently, gallant knight. It is a
matter of the greatest import to you, as well as your captain.''
   ""Ha! Gude faith, then it maunna be neglected. I'll be w'ye
even now, lads; saunter about, but dinna quit this great four-
nooked fauld till I come back again. Come along, then, my
wee bonny hen chicken. Raux up an' gie me a grip o' your
finger-ends. Side for side's neighbour like.'' So away went Sir
Charles, leading his tiny conductor by the hand, and was by
her introduced into one of the hundred apartments in the
citadel.
   ""Our captain is gaun aff at the nail now,'' said Will Laidlaw;
""Thae new honours o' his are gaun to be his ruin. He's
getting far ower muckle in favour wi' the grit fo'k.''
   ""I wonder to hear ye speak that gate,'' said Gideon Pott of
Bilhope: ""I think it be true that the country says, that ye
maun aye read a Laidlaw backward. What can contribute sae
muckle to advance a gentleman and his friends as to be in
favour with the great?''
   ""I am a wee inclined to be of Laidlaw's opinion,'' said
Peter Oliver of the Langburnsheils, (for these three were the
headsmen of the three names marshalled under Sir Charles,)--
""Sudden rise, sudden fa'; that was a saying o ' my grandfather's,
and he was very seldom in the wrong. I wadna wonder a bit to
see our new knight get his head choppit off; for I think, if he
haud on as he is like to do, he'll soon be ower grit wi' the
Queen. Fo'k should bow to the bush they get bield frae, but
take care o' lying ower near the laiggens o't. That was a saying
o' my grandfather's aince when they wantit him to visit at the
castle of Mountcomyn.''
   ""There is he to the gate now,'' said Laidlaw, ""and left his
men, his breadwinners, in the very mids o' their lessons; and
as sure as we saw it, some o' thae imps will hae his simple
honest head into Hoy's net wi' some o' thae braw women.
Wha wins at their hands will lose at naething. I never bodit
ony good for my part o' the gowden cuishes and the gorget,
and the three walloping tod tails. Mere eel-baits for catching
herons! ''
   ""Ay weel I wat that's little short of a billyblinder, lad!'' said
Peter Oliver; ""I trow I may say to you as my grandfather said
to the ghost, "Ay, ay, Billy Baneless, "an a' tales be true, yours
is nae lie,' quo' he; and he was a right auldfarrant man.''
   But as this talk was going on among the borderers, Sir
Charles, as before said, was introduced into a private chamber,
where sat no less a dame than the officious and important lady
of all close secrets, Mistress Mary Kirkmichael of Balmedie,
who rose and made three low courtesies, and then with an
affected faltering tongue and downcast look, addressed Sir
Charles as follows: ""Most noble and gallant knight,--hem--
Pardon a modest and diffident maiden, sir knight!--pink of all
chivalry and hero of the Border: I say be so generous as to
forgive the zeal of a blushing virgin for thus presuming to
interrupt your warrior avocations.--(Sir Charles bowed.)--But,
O knight--hem--there is a plot laying, or laid against your
freedom. Pray may I take the liberty to ask, Are you free of
any love engagement?''
   ""Perfectly so, madam, at--hem!----''
   ""At my service. Come--that is so far well. You could not
then possibly have any objections to a young lady of twenty-
one or thereby, nobly descended, heir to seven ploughgates of
land, and five half-davochs, and most violently in love with
you.
   ""I maun see her first, and hear her speak,'' said the knight,
""and ken what blood and what name; and whether she be
Scots or English.''
   ""Suppose that you <1have>1 seen her and heard her speak,''
said the dame; ""and suppose she was of Fife blood; and that
her name was <1lady>1 Mary Kirkmichael: What would you then
say against her?''
   ""Nothing at all, madam,'' said Sir Charles, bowing ex-
tremely low.
   ""Do you then consent to accept of such a one for your
lady?''
   ""How can I possibly tell? Let me see her.''
   ""O Sir Charles! gallant and generous knight! do not force a
young blushing virgin to disclose what she would gladly con-
ceal. You <1do>1 see her, Sir Charles! You <1do>1 see her and hear her
speak too. Nay, you see her kneeling at your feet, brave and
generous knight! You see her <1tears>1 and you hear her <1weep,->1-
and what hero can withstand that? Oh Sir Charles!--
   ""Hout, hout, hout!'' cried Sir Charles interrupting her, and
raising her gently with both hands, ""Hout, hout, hout! for
heaven's sake behave yoursel, and dinna flee away wi' the
joke athegither, sweet lady. Ye may be very weel, and ye are
very weel for ought that I see, but troth ye ken a man maun
do ae thing afore another, and a woman too. Ye deserve
muckle better than the likes o' me, but I dinna incline
marriage; and mair than that, I hae nae time to spare.''
   ""Ah, Sir Charles, you should not be so cruel. You should
think better of the fair sex, Sir Charles! Look at this face.
What objections have you to it, Sir Charles?''
   ""The face is weel enough, but it will maybe change. The
last blooming face that took me in turned out a very different
article the next day. Ah, lady! Ye little ken what I hae suffered
by women and witchcraft, or ye wadna bid me think weel o'
them.''
   ""Well, knight, since I cannot melt your heart, I must tell
you that there is a plot against your liberty, and you will be a
married man before to morrow's night. It is a grand plot, and
I am convinced it is made solely to entrap you to marry an
English heiress that is a captive here, who is fallen so deeply
in love with you that, if she does not attain you for her lover
and husband, her heart will break. She has made her case
known to the Queen, and I have come by it: therefore, sir
knight, as you value my life, keep this a <1profound>1 secret. I
thought it a pity not to keep you out of English connections;
therefore I sent for you privily to offer you my own hand, and
then you could get off on the score of engagement.''
   ""Thank you kindly, madam.''
   ""Well, Sir. On pretence of an appendage to the marriage of
the king's favourite daughter with the greatest nobleman of
the land, before the festival conclude, it is agreed on that
there are to be a number of weddings beside, which are all to
be richly endowed. The ladies are to choose among the heroes
of the games; and this lady Jane Howard is going to make
choice of you, and the law is to be framed in such a manner
that there will be no evading it with honour. You have been a
mortal enemy to the English; so have they to you. Had not
you better then avoid the connection by a previous marriage,
or an engagement say?''
   ""I think I'll rather take chance, with your leave, madam:
Always begging your pardon, ye see. But, depend on it, I'll
keep your secret, and am indebted to you for your kind in-
tentions. I'll take chance, They winna surely force a wife on
ane whether he will or no?''
   ""Perhaps not. One who does <1not incline marriage,>1 and has
not <1time to spare>1 to be married, may be excused. Tell me,
seriously; surely you will never think of accepting of her?''
   ""It is time to decide about that when aince I get the offer.
I can hardly trow what ye say is true; but if the King and
the Warden will hae it sae, ye ken what can a body do?''
   ""Ah, there it is! Cruel Sir Charles! But you know you really
have not a minute's <1time to>1 spare for marriage, and the want
of <1inclimation>1 is still worse. I have told you, sir knight, and
the plot will be accomplished to-morrow. I would you would
break her heart, and absolutely refuse her, for I hate the rosy
minx. But three earldoms and nine hundred thousand marks go
far! Ah me! Goodbye, noble knight. Be secret for my sake."
   Sir Charles returned to his men in the great square, laughing
in his sleeve all the way. He spoke some to himself likewise,
but it was only one short sentence, which was this: ""Three
earldoms and nine hundred thousand marks!  Gudefaith,
Corbie will be astonished.''
   It was reported afterwards, that this grand story of Mary's
to Sir Charles was nothing at all in comparison with what she
told to lady Jane, of flames and darts, heroism, royal favour,
and distinction; and, finally, of endless captivity in the event
of utter rejection. However that was, when the troops assem-
bled around the fortress in the evening, and the leaders in the
hall, proclamations were made in every quarter, setting forth,
that all the champions who had gained prizes since the com-
mencement of the Christmas games were to meet together,
and contend at the same exercises before the King, for other
prizes of higher value; and, farther, that every successful can-
didate should have an opportunity of acquiring his mistress'
hand in marriage, with rich dowries, honours, manors, and
privileges, to be conferred by the King and Queen; who, at
the same time gave forth their peremptory commands, that
these gallants should meet with no denial, and this on pain of
forfeiting the royal favour and protection, not only towards
the dame so refusing, but likewise to her parents, guardians,
and other relations.
   Never was there a proclamation issued that made such a
deray among the fair sex as this. All the beauty of the Low-
lands of Scotland was assembled at this royal festival. The
city of Roxburgh and the town of Kelso were full of visitors;
choke full of them! There were ladies in every house, beside
the inmates; and, generally speaking, three <1at an average>1 for
every male, whether in the city or suburbs. Yet, for all these
lovely women of high rank and accomplishments, none else
fled from the consequences of the mandate but one alone,
who dreaded a rival being preferred,--a proof how little averse
the ladies of that age were to the bonds of matrimony. Such a
night as that was in the city! There were running to and fro,
rapping at doors, and calling of names during the whole night.
It was a terrible night for the dressmakers; for there was such
a run upon them, and they had so much ado, that they got
nothing done at all, except the receiving of orders which there
was no time to execute.
   Next morning, at eight of the day, by the abbey bell, the
multitude were assembled, when the names of the former
heroes were all called over, but only sixteen appeared, although
twenty-two stood on the list. The candidates were then all
taken into an apartment by themselves, and treated with
viands and wines, with whatever else they required. There also
they were instructed in the laws of the game. Every one
was obliged to contend at every one of the exercises; and
the conqueror in each was to retire into the apartment of the
ladies, where they were all placed in a circle, lay his prize at
his mistress's feet, and retire again to the sports without
uttering a word.
   The exercises were held on the large plain south of the
Teviot, so that they were beheld by the whole multitude
without any inconveniency. The flowers of the land also be-
held from their apartment in the castle, although no one saw
them in return, save the fortunate contenders in the field. The
first trial was a foot race for a chain of gold, given by the lady
Douglas, and all the sixteen being obliged to run, the sport
afforded by the race was excellent; for the eager desire to be
foremost acted not more powerfully to urge the candidates to
exertion than the dread of being the last, so that the two
hindmost were straining every nerve, and gasping as vora-
ciously for breath as the two foremost. Sir Charles Scott took
the lead, leaving the rest quite behind, so far that every one
thought he would gain with all manner of ease, and they began
to hail him as conqueror. But owing to his great weight he
lost breath, and in spite of all he could do the poet made by
him and won the prize, which he took with a proud and a joy-
ful heart, and laid at the feet of Delany. ""Bauchling shurf!''
exclaimed Sir Charles, laughing when he saw the poet passing
his elbow, ""Useless bauchling shurf! an I had kend I wad hae
letten ye lie, and been singit to an izle in the low o' Ravens-
worth.''
   ""Knight, I think ye hae lost,'' cried one.
   ""I think sae, too,'' said Charles. ""I liket aye better to rin
ahint an Englishman than afore him a' my life.''
   The next game given out was a trial in leaping, for a pair of
bracelets, clasped with gold, and set with jewels, given by the
Queen. These also the poet won, and laid at Delany's feet. Sir
Charles won three; one for tilting on horseback, one for wrest-
ling, and one for pitching the iron bar, and he laid all the three
prizes at the feet of lady Jane Howard. Two lords won each
of them two prizes, and other two knights won each of them
one; and all, unknown to one another, laid them at the feet of
lady Jane Howard.
   When the sports of the day were finished, the seven con-
querors, all crowned with laurel, and gorgeously arrayed, were
conducted to the gallery where the ladies still remained; and
after walking round the room to the sound of triumphal
music, they were desired to kneel one by one in the order in
which they had entered before, and each to invoke his
mistress's pity in his own terms. It fell to the poet's lot to
kneel first, who stretched forth his hands toward a certain
point in the room, and expressed himself as follows: ""O
lovely darling of my soul! in whom my every hope is cen-
tered; at whose feet I laid my honours down. This laurel
wreath I also consecrate to thee. By all the love that I have
borne for thee, the pains that I have suffered, I conjure you
to raise me up, and say thou wilt be mine:--else here I'll
kneel till doomsday! ''
   A pause ensued; the King and his nobles looked on in
breathless curiosity, for they knew not where he had bes-
towed his favours. The dames also gazed in envious silence,
and in hopes that the supplicant would be refused. He soon
himself began to dread what they hoped; his countenance
changed; the wild lustre of his eye faded; and he began to
look around to see where he could get a sword on which to
fall and kill himself. He cast one other pitiful look to Delany,
but she deigned no movement to his relief,--still keeping her
seat, though visibly in great agitation. But, at length, when
hope was extinct in his bosom, there appeared one to his
relief. This was no other than his old rival the gospel friar,
who had been admitted in an official capacity, in order to
join hands and bless unions if any such chanced to be agreed
on. He was standing ruminating behind backs; but seeing the
first offer about to be rejected, and aware of the force of ex-
ample, whether good or bad, and how little chance he had of
employment that day if the first effort misgave, he stepped
briskly up to Delany, and, taking her hand, said, ""Lo, my
daughter, have not I travelled for thee in pain, and yearned
over thee as a mother yearneth over the son of her youth?
Why wilt thou break my heart, and the heart of him that bur-
neth for thy love?'' Delany then rose, and with trembling
step came toward her lover, led by the grotesque form of the
good friar. The tears gushed from the poet's eyes as she lifted
the laurel crown from the floor, and replacing it on his head,
said, as she raised him up, ""Thou hast adventured and over-
come. Hence be thou the lord of my heart and affections.''
   The friar gave them no more time to palaver, but joined
their hands, pronounced them a married pair, and blessed
their union in the name of the Trinity. Then Sir Charles Scott
kneeled, and, casting his eyes gravely toward the floor, said
only these words: ""Will the lady whom I serve take pity on
her humble slave, or shall he retire from this presence ashamed
and disgraced?''
   Woman, kind and affectionate woman, is ever more ready
to confer an obligation on our sex than accept of one. Lady
Jane arose without any hesitation, put the crown on the
knight's head, and, with a most winning grace, raised him up,
and said, ""Gallant knight, thou wert born to conquer my
countrymen and me; I yield my hand and with it my heart.''
The friar lost no time in joining their hands; he judged it best
and safest to take women at their first words; and short time
was it till the two were pronounced husband and wife, ""and
whom God hath joined let no man dare to put asunder.
Amen!'' said the friar, and bestowed on them an earnest
blessing.--Isaac the curate expatiates largely on the greatness
and goodness of this couple; how they extended their pos-
sessions, and were beloved on the Border. Their son, he says,
was the famous Sir Robert of Eskdale, the warden of the
marches, from whom the families of Thirlstane, Harden, and
many other opulent houses are descended. No union could be
more happy; and besides, it rendered the Lady Douglas the
happiest of women, and Mary Kirkmichael the proudest.
   But to return to the scene in the gallery with the knights
and their mistresses. The King and his nobles who accompanied
the gallants into the apartment of the ladies, knowing nothing
of the choices each had made, expected great amusement from
compliances and non-compliances; and at all events, after so
fair a beginning, a number of weddings to be the result. Every
one of the successful knights expected the same thing; for it
is a curious fact, which shows the duplicity of our character in
a striking light, that, when the champions were all in the
apartment together in the morning, some mentioned one lady
as the flower of the land and of all present, some mentioned
another, and so on. But no one ever mentioned the names
either of <1Delany>1 or <1Jane Howard.>1 Sir Charles indeed men-
tioned no name, but when each had named a pretended
favourite with mighty encomiums, he only added, ""I'll no
say muckle; but there's ane that I rank aboon a' thae.''
   The master of the ceremonies looked round to call the
next champion to kneel; but, behold, he was not there! He
called the next again. He was gone also! Every one of the
knights had vanished, each thinking <1himself>1 slighted by the
preference given to Sir Charles Scott, but none knowing that
for his sake they were all slighted alike. The noblemen were
all in the utmost consternation; the King became highly offen-
ded, and said ""What is the meaning of this? Have these knights
dared to desert their colours on the very eve of action? This is
not only an affront put upon <1us,>1 but upon our fair and noble
visitors, of whose honour and feelings we are more jealous
than of our own.''
   But the friar, who was a man of peace, and disliked all sort
of offence, when he saw the King was displeased, took speech
to himself, and his speech set all the gallery into a burst of
laughter. He was standing in the midst of the floor, with his
book in hand, ready and eager to officiate still farther as a
knitter and binder; but when he saw the knights all fled, and
the King offended, he uplifted both of his hands and one of
his feet, standing still on the other, and cried with a loud
voice, ""Behold my occupation is ended! Woe is me for the
children of my people! For the spirit of man is departed away,
and he hath no strength remaining. Oh what shall I do for the
honour of my brethren! For, lo, the virgins are come to the
altar, and there is none to accept of the offering. The men of
might are dismissed, yea they are confounded and fled away,
and the daughters of the land are left to bewail the months
and years of their virginity. Woe is me, for my hand findeth
nothing more to do!''
   The ladies laughed immoderately at the cases of the for-
lorn and discomfited knights; for they had witnessed the pro-
ceedings, and saw that all their devotions were paid to one ob-
ject; and as no lady of Scotland had been chosen, one could
not envy another,--so they tittered and laughed off the affront
as well as they could.
   The friar got passports into England, and after much labour
and pain got the poet established in his father's possessions,
and acknowledged as the lord of Ravensworth. He also re-
gained for him his lady's possessions on the continent, which
the Nevilles retained for the space of two hundred years. That
amiable couple cultivated the arts of peace, music, and song,
as long as they lived. After these things, the friar was preferred
to great emoluments in his old age, and he spent them all in
acts of charity and benevolence.
   From Roxburgh the royal party proceeded to Melrose,
where they remained two days, which they spent partly in de-
votion and thanksgivings, and partly in viewing the magnificent
scenes in the neighbourhood, particularly the great hill of
Eildon, so lately reft asunder and divided into three by the
power of the elemental spirits. To this awful theme the mind
of the Queen still reverted; and, on her last visit to these moun-
tains, she passed through the recent chasms, gazing and trem-
bling at the effects produced by that tremendous convulsion
of nature; and, at length, she had spoken and dreamed so
much about it, that she proposed to go and visit the castle of
Aikwood, and if possible to get a sight of the great enchanter
himself, before she left the Border counties, where, she said,
she might never be again. Every one tried to dissuade her from
the attempt, and the King got into a high passion, but still she
could not be driven from her purpose. ""As we return to the
abbey,'' said she, ""we will go by the ford of Dornick-burn at
the foot of the deep dell that you told me of, where the devil
first made his appearance on horse-back to the four warriors.
I should not wonder that we shall see him there again under
some disguise.''
   ""I would not wonder that we should,'' said Sir Charles: ""I
have been told that he is sometimes seen there in the shape of
a clerk; sometimes as a mariner; and sometimes in the form of
the King of Scotland. Always begging your pardon, royal
madam.''
   ""There is no offence, Sir Charles, as long as you do not
tell me that he appears in the shape of a Queen- I hope he has
never yet been known to assume the shape of a woman.''
   ""He has enow to appear for him in <1that>1 form, which I ken
something about to my cost; and which your royal majesty
kens mair about than I could have wished. What does your
majesty account the greatest peril that man is subject to in
this world?''
   ""Oh war, war, certainly! Nineteen out of twenty of his
perils concentrate in that, or are derived from it.''
   ""Ye may be thankfu' ye ken nae mair about it than that,
my lady queen! Aince ye gang near the castle of Aikwood
ye'll get a little mair experience perhaps. Now ye are deter-
mined on ganging there the morn, and I am determined on
accompanying you, since you will go. But troth I would be
right wae to see my queen turned into a cow, and a little deil
set to drive her; or into a grey mare, and a witch or warlock
set to gallop on her; or a doe, or a hare, or a she-fox, and a
tichel o' tikes set after her to tear her a' to tareleathers. Al-
ways begging your pardon, my liege lady.''
   As they were chatting on in this familiar and jocular style,
they came to the identical little deep dell, at the meeting of
two rivulets, or moorland burns, where the devil and his
three attendant imps had appeared to our warriors on their
way to Melrose; and, as Dan Chisholm was of the party, the
Queen caused him to be called up to describe the whole
scene,--with the personal appearance of the arch fiend,--the
words he spoke, and also the extraordinary course that he had
with him along the marble pavement of the air. All these
matters were detailed to her by the trooper with perfect
seriousness and simplicity, which made such an impression on
the Queen's romantic and superstitious mind, that her coun-
tenance altered in every feature, and she was every now and
then gazing around as if expecting Satan's personal appear-
ance before them once more. The party were sitting on
horseback conversing together, when the sharp eye of Sir
Charles, well accustomed to the discernment of all living or
moving objects, whether by night or by day, perceived a miser-
able looking wight approaching them by the very path on
which the infernal cavalcade had formerly proceeded. The
Queen was talking to Dan, still pushing her inquiries, when Sir
Charles touched her gently on the shoulder, and said, ""Hush
your majesty. See who is this approaching us by the very road
that the deils took? It is a question who we have here. Ane is
nae sure of ony shape that appears in sic a place and sic a time
as this.''
   Then there was such crossing and telling of beads, and
calling on the names of saints, took place with the Queen and
her ladies, every one of them asking the same question in terri-
fied whispers, ""Is it he, think you? Is it he? Oh, is it he?''
Then there was a general request made that they should take
instant flight, and ride home to the abbey full speed; but an
opposition arose to this proposal from a quarter not expected.
This was from no other than Sir Charles' English lady, whose
education had taught her to despise the superstitions so pre-
valent in Scotland; and seeing them all about to fly from a
poor wo-begone, half-famished wretch, she opposed it with
indignation, adding, that she would abide his coming by her-
self if none else would. Sir Charles was still far from being
clear about these matters, hard experience having taught him
caution; however, he commended his lady's spirit, and drew
up by her side: The rest marshalling behind them, they
awaited in a body the coming of this doubtful guest; and every
eye being fixed on his motions, so every tongue was busied
in giving vent to the spontaneous movements of the mind.
""It is a palmer,'' said one. ""It is a warlock,'' said another.
""It is the devil,'' said a third; ""I ken him by his lang nose!''
""Aha, my royal and noble dames!'' cried Sir Charles exulting-
ly: ""If it be nae the deil, it's his man; sae we may expect
some important message, either frae his infernal majesty or
the great enchanter, for this is no other than his seneschal.
My royal liege, this man that you see approaching is no other
than Gilbert Jordan, the late laird of the Peatstacknowe, who
was drawn by lot to supply the room of the wretch whom our
gospel friar sent up through the clouds in a convoy of fire and
brimstone. Whether this be Gibbie or his ghaist, it is hard to
say; but I ken weel by the coulter nose it is either the one or
the other. Your majesty will scrimply believe it, but the last
time I saw that carl the deil was hauding him by the cuff o'
the neck ower the topmost tower of the castle of Aikwood,
and the poor laird was sprawling like a paddock in a gled's
claws, when fifty fathom frae the ground. There is nought in
nature I expected less to see than that creature again in the
land of the living; yet it is actually he himself in flesh and
blood, and that is all, for he is worn to skin and bone, and
his nose is even longer than it was! Hech, laird, is this you?
And are you indeed returned to the Christian world aince
mair?''
   ""Aye troth, Yardbire, it is a' that's to the fore of me. But
who have you got all here? Good-e'en to you, gentles. This
brings me in mind of a story, man, that I hae heard about the
hunting of Stanebires' cat--''
   ""Whisht, Gibbie, and gie us nane o' your auld stories about
cats even now. This is the Queen of Scots and her attendants.
Rather tell us, in one word, how you have made your escape
from yon infernal gang in the castle of Aikwood?''
   ""Aha, Yardbire, that is a tale that winna tell in ae word, nor
twa neither, it wad take a winter night in telling, and it is the
awesomest ane that ever passed frae the lips o' man; but I am
ower sair forespent at this time to begin to it.''
   ""Oh, no!'' cried the Queen: ""Honest man, do not begin it at
present. It shall serve for our evening's amusement, and you
shall tell it before your King and his nobles, after you have
had such refreshment as you stand in need of.'' She then
caused one of her squires to alight, and mounting the wearied
and exhausted laird on his horse, they rode off to Melrose,
where, after a plentiful meal, the laird was brought into the
apartment where the King, the Queen, the abbot, with the
nobles and ladies of the court, were all assembled; and then,
at the royal request, he related to them the following
narrative.
                        CHAPTER XXXII

                 Commissions and black bills he had,
                 And a' the land went hey-gae mad,
                 The like was never seen,joe:

                 To dance and caper in the air,
               And there's an end of him,joe.
                                 <1Old Jacobite Song.>1

   WEEL, ye see, my masters and mistresses, this is what I
never expected to see. There is something sae grand in being
in the presence of a King and Queen and their courtiers, that
it brings me in mind of the devil and his agents that I have
been in the habit of entertaining for a month bygane. But
there is some wee difference in masters for a' that; for, in my
late service, if I had been brought in to entertain them, in an
instant they would have had me transformed into some paltry
animal, and then amused themselves by tormenting that ani-
mal to death, by dissecting it while living. But the queerest
thing of all was this,--there was aye a spark of life that they
could not destroy, which, for all their cruelties, remained
active and intelligent as before; and the moment they put that
spark of life out of one animal, they popped it into another,
and there was I obliged to undergo the same dismemberment
and pain once more, and so on for ever. The inflicting of tor-
ment was their chief delight, and of that delight there was no
satiety,--it seemed still to increase by gratification.
  On the very first day that I entered on my probation they
had a feast, as my comrades know, and as I also have good
reason to know, for on that day I suffered death nine times;
and yet I was Gibbie Jordan again before night. They first
turned me into a cock, and after the three pages had chased
me round the castle, and thrown stones at me till I was hang-
ing out my tongue, and could not cackle another lilt, they
seized me, took me into the scullery, and drew my neck. Ere
ever I was aware, they had me transformed into a huge lub-
berly calf, while one of the hellish pages was dragging me by
the neck with a prickly rope made of hurcheon hides, and the
two others were belabouring my rumple with cudgels. I sus-
pected their intentions, and being still terrified for death,
and inclining rather to suffer any thing, I drew back, shook
my head, and bellowed at them, while they still redoubled
their blows on my carcase, and cursed me. In spite of all I
could do, they dragged me gasping into the slaughter-house,
kept the knife an excruciating long time at my throat, and
then, after piercing the jugular vein, they laughed immoder-
ately to see me running about, bleeding to death, with my
glazed stupid eyes; and when, through faintness, I began to
flounder and grovel on the floor, they laughed amain, threshed
me to make me plunge a little more, and when I could do
nothing farther than give a faint baa! they thought that the
best sport of all, and mimicked me.
  I had scarcely ceased baaing as a calf, when I found myself
a beautiful cappercailzie, winging the winter cloud, and three
devils of falcons after me. "Now,' thinks I to myself, "If I do
not give you the glaiks now, my hellish masters, may I never
wap a wing again. By all the powers of swiftness, but I shall
try for once if the feathers shall not carry the flesh away.'
Sanct Martha, as I did scour the rimy firmament! I took the
wind in my tail, but I went with such amazing velocity that I
left it behind me, and as I clove it, it seemed to return in my
face. I reached the shoulder of a lofty mountain, and then I
laid back my wings, and bolted through the air like a flash of
lightning. "O ho! Messrs Hawks, where are you now?' thought
I to myself. Good Lord! ere ever I was aware, there was ane
o' them gave me a nab on the crown, that dovered me, and
gart me tumble heels-o'er-head down frae the shelves of the
clouds; and lighting with a dunt on the ground, I had nae
shift but to stap my head in a heather bush, and let them
pelt at me till I got some breath again. Then I made for a
cottage, thinking the inmates could not but pity my condi-
tion, and drive the hawks away from me. I took cover among
their cabbage, in the sight of both man and wife; but instead
of pitying me, the one came with an old spear, and the other
with the tongs, to finish my existence,--and always when the
falcons came down on me with their talons, the two cried out,
""Weel done, little hawkie! Yether him up! puik him weel!''
I was forced to take wing again, till at length, through
fatigue and want of feathers I dropt close to the castle whence
I had set out, and the three falcons, closing with me, first
picked out my eyes and then my brains. I was stabbed as a
salmon, hunted as a roe-buck, felled as a bull, and had my
head chopped off for a drake. The dinner was made up of me.
I supplied every dish, and then was forced to cook them all
afterward. It was no wonder that I could not partake of the
fragments of the meal.
  From the moment that the Christian warriors were all
dismissed with disgrace from the castle, the devil became
contumacious with the Master, and assayed to carry matters
with a very high hand. But he had to do with one that would
not succumb, no not in the smallest point, but who opposed
him with a degree of virulence of which even the master
fiend seemed scarcely capable. It was a scene of constant
contention and rage, and the little subordinate demons did not
always know which to obey. It was, if it please your Majesties,
a scene acted in terrible magnificence, of which I have seen
several poor and abortive emblems among mortal men. And
henceforth I shall aways believe and feel, when I see a family
or society constantly involved in disputes, wranglings, and
angry emotions, that they are children of the wicked one, and
moved by the spirit of discord, that bane of the human race.
   ""The worthy gentleman hath said well,'' said the abbot.
""It is a moral truth that can never be too deeply impressed,
that <1peace and love only lead to happiness.>1 They are emana-
tions from above, and the contrary passions from beneath.
All the fierce and fiery passions of the soul are the offspring
of hell fire. But a truce with preaching. Honest friend, go on
with your strange relation, and acquaint us in what manner
his infernal majesty and the king of mortal magicians spent
their time.''
   In constant discord and jarring. The devil challenged the
Master with impotency in entertaining a poor crazy monk,
and submitting to be protected and even cowed by him; at
which the Master took high offence, and retorted in the
bitterest terms; while the other always hinted that he would
make him repent his intercourse with that preposterous and
presumptive fool. So he termed our own worthy friar and
head chaplain.
   In one thing only they agreed, and that was in abusing the
witches. Never were there poor deluded creatures guided in
such a way as they. The devil says to the Master one day in
my hearing, ""Brother Michael,'' says he, ""I have an act of
justice to perform to all our true and trusty female lieges in
this quarter. I gave them my princely word of honour, that
on their yielding themselves up souls and bodies to me and to
my service, they should all be <1married!,>1 and all to young and
goodly husbands too. That having been the principal, and al-
most the only boon, the good consistent creatures required of
me for the sacrifice they made, they must not be disappoin-
ted.'' The Master acquiesced, but at the same time remarked,
with what I judged unreasonable chagrin, that when he was
keeping his word so punctually, it betokened nothing good
for those to whom he kept it.
   Well, we had a witch's wedding every night for nine nights
running; but such extreme of wickedness is past all human
comprehension, beyond the possibility of description. The
marriage ceremony itself, always performed by a demon in
the habit of a friar, was a piece of the most horrid blasphemy
ever conceived; and every night one of the witches was
married to the devil in disguise. Sometimes the bridegroom
made his appearance as a gay cavalier, sometimes as a country
squire, a foreign merchant, a minstrel, and a moss-trooper.
The old wretch of a bride was all painted by some devilish
cantrip, and bedecked with false jewels, and though she
seemed always aware of the deceit in a certain degree, from
former experiences, yet it was wonderful with what avidity
each of the old creatures clung to her enamoured and goodly
husband!  How they mumped and minced in their talking,
and ogled with their old grey ropy eyes! And then how they
danced! Gracious me, how they flung, and danced among the
deils and the warlocks! and capered and snapped their fingers,
giving their partners often a jerk on the nose or the temple as
they passed and repassed in the reel, as quick as green clocks
on a pool.Then the bedding of the brides, these surpassed all
description; and as they had me fairly in thrall, I was suffered
to witness every thing. The first witch bride was led out at the
back door of the castle with much state and ceremony, into
a place that had been a bowling green, and in which there was
nothing else save a bowling green: Yet, to my amazement,
there stood a bower of the most superb magnificence; and
there, in a chamber hung with gorgeous tapestry that glittered
all with gold and rubies, the loving couple retired to their re-
pose, and to all the delights and joys of so happy an union.
Then wishing them the greatest conjugal felicity, all the gall-
ants returned to the castle. But I, being curious to see what
would be the end of this grand pavilion in the bowling-green,
which I knew must be merely a delusion, a vision, a shadow
of something that had no stability of existence, went up to
the top of the castle, and from a loop-hole sat and watched
what was to be the end of this phenomenon. I waited a good
long while, and began to think all was real, and that the
splendid witch had met with a happy fortune,--for I knew
them too well to be all witches from former happy experience.
But at length the lusty bridegroom, as I supposed, began to
weary of his mate, for I saw the form of the bower beginning
to change, and fall flat on the top, and its hue also became of
a lurid fiery colour- I cannot tell your Majesties what sort of
sensations I felt when I saw the wedded couple sinking gra-
dually down through a bed of red burning fire, and the poor
old beldame writhing to death in the arms of a huge and
terrible monster, that squeezed her in its embraces, and hugged
her, and caressed her till the spark of wretched life was wholly
extinguished.I saw distinctly by the light of the flame that
surrounded them, and marked every twist of the features, and
every quiver of the convulsed limbs; yet these were not more
impressive than the joy of the exulting fiend, who continued
to caress and kiss his agonized mate to the last, and called her
his love, and his darling, and his heart's delight. At length the
distortions of the human countenance reached their acme--
the shrivelled bosom forgot to throb, and, with the expiry of
the mortal spark, the lurid flame that burnt around them also
went out, and all was darkness. There was no bower, no cham-
ber, no bridal bed, but a cold winter soil; and I thought that,
through the gloom, I perceived the couple still lying on it.
   As I could get no rest all that night for thinking of the
terrible scene I had witnessed, as soon as the sun rose next
morning I went out to the bowling-green, but found nothing
there save the strangled body of the wretched woman,--a dis-
mal and humbling sight,--squeezed almost to a jelly, and every
bone broken as if it had been smashed on an anvil. Being
curious to examine her robes in which she appeared with such
splendour the evening before, and her jewels, part of which I
had seen her lay carefully aside, I took every thing up as it
lay. Her robes were a small heap of the most wretched rags
imaginable: her pearl necklace was a string of dead beetles,
and her diamond rings pieces of thread, on which were fas-
tened small knots of clay, and every thing else proportionally
mean. While I was standing considering this vile degradation
that had taken place, I heard a voice at a little distance that
called to me and said, ""Gibbie Jordan! Gibbie Jordan! why
standest thou in amazement at a true emblem of all worldly
grandeur! It is all equally unreal and unsubstantial as that on
which thou lookest, and to that it must all come at last.''
   "Hout, friend,' thought I, "it canna surely be a' sae perfectly
unreal as this, else what does it signify?' But a' that I could
look and glime about, I could never discover the speaker that
said this; and when I thought seriously of the matter, I found
that it comes a' to the same thing in the end.
   ""Honest friend, thou hast again illustrated a momentous
moral truth,'' said the abbot,--""and I thank thee for it. Thou
hast the art, in thy simplicity, of extracting more good out of
real evil than any expounder of divine truths throughout the
land. Thou art both a moral and a natural philosopher, and I
intend conferring on thee some benefice under the church,
that thy talents may no longer remain locked up in a helmet.
Prithee, go on with thy extraordinary narrative; but these
witch weddings are too horrible for mortal ears.''
   Then you may consider, my Lord Abbot, what they were
for mortal eyes, especially such a run of them, which were
every night varied in their horrors, and terminated in some-
thing perfectly distinct from all those preceding. On the se-
cond night the bridegroom was a foreign merchant, a man of
bustle and punctuality, who said he could not remain late with
his kind convivial friends, and was under the necessity of
carrying his bride off at an early hour, having business of
importance to transact on the morrow. It was a speculation,
he said, on which he calculated making a good profit, and a
man who was coming in to have a wife, and in all probability
a small family to maintain, required to look after and attend
to these matters. The witch caressed him in ecstacy when he
made this speech, and proffered to go with him as soon as he
chose. She saluted her cronies, and bade them farewell; and
although there is no love among those sort of people, yet
there was still so much of human nature remaining, that there
seemed to subsist a degree of regret that they should never
meet again. My own heart was even sore for the wretched
beldame; for I had witnessed a scene the preceding night which
had been withheld from her view, and those of the other
brides that were to be; and I knew that a fate somewhat simi-
lar awaited them all. They mounted this one behind the spruce
merchant on a tall gallant charger whose eyes gleamed like
lightning, and away they set over the leas of Carterhaugh, at a
light gallop; but at every bound the swiftness of the steed in-
creased, till it was quickly beyond the speed of the eagle. The
witch held like grim death, and would fain have expostulated
with the bridegroom on the madness of risking their necks for
a little per centage,--but her velocity was such that she could
make no farther speech of it, than just a squeak now and then
like a shot hare. The reckless merchant flew on, still increasing
his rapidity, until he came to the very highest rock of the
Harehead linn. The witch knew of the dreadful chasm that
was before them, and weening that her husband did not know
she uttered a piercing shriek; but the void was only thirty
yards across and a hundred deep, so the fearless merchant,
meaning to take it at one leap, made his charger bound from
the top of the precipice. The infernal courser cleared the linn,
but the witch's head failing, she toppled off about the middle
space. There were two fishermen spearing salmon in the
bottom of the gulf, who saw the phenomenon pass over their
heads, and the wife lose her hold and fall off; they heard her
likewise saying, as she came adown the air, ""Aih, what a fa'
I will get!'' And as she said, so it fell out; for she alighted on
the rocks a short space from the place where they stood,
and was literally dashed in pieces; but the steed ran away
with the merchant over hill and dale like a thunderbolt, and
neither the one nor the other ever looked over his shoulder to
see what had befallen the bride.
   This continuation of horrors still depriving me of rest, I
went into the linn the next morning to look after the corpse;
but the three pages, Prig, Prim, and Pricker, were engaged
with it, cutting it trimly up, and hanging it on the trees of the
linn to be frozen, so that they might thereby be enabled to
preserve it for some grand experiment. In the same manner
did they serve the remains of all the brides; none of them ever
being buried,--but there was one taken away bodily. I shall
now, in conformity with your reverence's hint, desist from
the description of any more of these weddings, and proceed
to the adventure by which I attained my liberty.
   I had often attempted this, both by night and by day, but
these imps seemed to possess a sort of prescience, for in all
my attempts I was seized and maltreated so grossly that I gave
up all hopes of escape, otherwise than by some upbreaking of
the warlock's establishment, and of all such incidents I had
resolved to avail myself, and you all see that at last I have
succeeded,--which happened on this wise.
   Still as Christmas tide drew on, the wranglings between my
two chief masters, the devil and the warlock, grew more and
more fierce; and as I heard they were obliged to sever before
that time, I both hoped and dreaded some terrible convulsion.
The fiend, for several successive days, was always hinting to
the Master that it now behoved the latter to deliver him up
the black book and the divining rod; and he tried to cajole
him out of them by fair speeches and boundless promises: but
with these requests the Master testified no disposition to com-
ply, and the promises he utterly disregarded, bidding him
bestow his promises on those who did not know him. At
length the fiend fairly told him, that he must and would have
the possession of these invaluable treasures, which ought never
to have been put into the hands of mortal man, and that now
he would have them if he should tear his heart from his bosom
to attain the boon.
   I weened that matters were come to that pass now that the
Master would be obliged to yield, and that all this show of
resistance was only the ebullition of a proud and indignant
spirit struggling against the yoke under which it knew it was
obliged to bow, like a horse that champs the bit, to the sway
of which it knows too well it must submit. In all this, how-
ever, I had reckoned before mine host, and knew not the
resources of the great magician. Beneath the influence of the
cross I found him a child, a novice, a nonentity, unresolved
and inconsistent in his actions. But amongst the beings with
whom he associated I found him a superior intelligence, a
spirit formed to controul the mightiest energies, and not
brooking submission to any power unless by compulsion. To
my utter astonishment he not only gave the arch-fiend abso-
lute refusal, but haughty defiance; and then it was apparent,
that, except from necessity, all forbearance was at an end.
   ""Preposterous madman! dost thou know whom thou beard-
est?'' said the fiend, gnashing his teeth with rage and thirst of
vengeance: ""Knowest thou with whom thou art contending,
thou maniac?--and that I can wring thy soul out of thy body,
consigning the one to the dunghill, and the other to elemental
slavery, at my will and pleasure?''
   ""I defy thee,'' said the Master: ""Do thy worst. He that im-
parts a moiety of his power to another, must abide by the
consequences. Do I not know with whom I am contending?
Yes! I know thee! And thou art so well aware that I do, that
at this moment thou tremblest beneath my rod. I know thee
for a liar, a deceiver, a backbiter, and a spirit of insatiable
malevolence. Who can lay one of these charges to my name?
Were I immortal as thou art, how I would hurl thee from thy
usurped and tyrannic sway over the mighty energies of nature.
Were I freed of the incumbrances of mortality,--of blood that
may be let out by a bodkin,--bones that may be broken by the
tip of an ox-goad,--and breath that may be stopped by the
twang of a bow-string; of vitals, subjected to be torn by di-
sease,--preyed on by hunger, thirst, and a thousand casualties
beside:--yes, were I rid of these congregated impediments, as
I shall soon be, I would thrust thee down into that subordinate
sphere of action to which only thy perverse nature is fitted.
This black book and this divining-rod are mine. They were
consigned to my hands by thyself and the four viceroys of
the elements, and part with them shall I never, either in life
or in death; and while I possess them I am thy superior.
Begone, and let me hear no more of thy brawling at this time,
lest I humble thee, and trample on thee before thy day of
power be expired.''
   This the Master pronounced in loud and furious accents;
and as he finished he struck the devil across the gorge with his
golden rod. The blow made him spring aloof, and tumble into
the air, it had such powerful effect on his frame; and when he
stood again on his feet, he roared with rage and indignation,
in a voice that resembled thunder. The Master had the black
book belted to his bosom, with bands of steel, that were
hammered in the forge of hell; and laying his left hand upon
that, and brandishing his divining-rod in his right, he dared
the fiend to the combat. The latter approached, and poured
from his mouth and nostrils such a stream of liquid flame on
the magician, that it appeared like a fiery rainbow between
them. This greatly incommoded the Master, and made him
skip like a mountebank; but it was soon exhausted, and then
the fiend threw trees and rocks at him, some of the latter of
the weight of five tons. All these the Master eschewed; and
though he sought no other weapons but his rod, he brake in
upon his antagonist, and chaced him from the field. Then the
war of words again commenced, which increased to a tempest
of threatening, wrath, and defiance. The arch-demon boasted
of his legions, and of their irresistible power; and threatened
to bring them all to the contest, and annihilate the Master
and his adherents, root and branch.
   ""I have already said that I fear neither them nor thee,'' said
the Master. ""What though thou hast the sovereignty over the
element of fire, and all the fierce and indurated spirits that
sojourn and ply in the sultry regions of flame, as also of the
grovelling spirits of the mould? Have not I at my command
those of the air and the water? I can muster against thee the
storm, the whirlwind, and the raging tempest, the over-
whelming wave, and the descending torrent. These shall ex-
tinguish thy meteor hosts, and sweep thy moldwarps from the
face of the earth. I am in the midst of my elements here.
Thou art out of thine, and that thou shalt feel when thou
bringest it to trial.''
   Thus parted these two once-bound associates, but now jea-
lous and inexorable foes,--a good lesson to all those who form
combinations inimical to the laws or authority of the land in
which they reside. Like those master-spirits, such are likewise
conspirators against rightful sovereignty, although on a smaller
scale; and like those whom they imitate, and by whom they
are moved, their counsels will always be turned either to
foolishness or against themselves.
   ""The sphere that this man hath filled in society,'' said the
abbot, ""is far below that in which he ought to have moved. If
his narrative is true, which I can hardly believe, he turns it to
most excellent uses; and if it is an apologue, it is one well
conceived for the purposes of instruction. Verily, this gentle-
man hath never moved in his proper sphere.''
   ""I think it is not very unlikely that your reverence says,''
said Sir Ringan, ""for he made no great figure in it. Tho' I had
always a partiality for him, I had no great faith in his valour.
He would rather have cut down a warrior behind his back
than before his face any time. He has made mare quake this
night wi' his tale than ever he did wi' his weapon. I entreat
ye to get on, laird, and let us hear how they made up
matters.''
  Made up matters, does my chief say? That was a term no
more mentioned between them. They separated but to raise
their different forces, and meet again with more fury and
effect. The Master spoke to his three pages, and asked if they
were resolved to stand firm to his interest? They answered,
that they would, till the term of their bondage expired.
   "Then am I doubly armed!  said the Master, exultingly;
""and I will show your tyrant that I can quell his utmost rage.
Speed thee, my trusty and nimble spirits; speed to the western
and northern spheres, and rouse the slumbering angels of the
winds and the waters. Tell them to muster their array, and
bear hitherward,--to rear the broad billows of the Atlantic up
against the breast of heaven, and to make a bellows of every
cloud to gather the winds up behind them. Then bring down
the irresistible spirits of the frozen north in ambush,--and who
shall stand against their fury! How soon will you execute
your commissions?''
   ""Master, I'll ring the surface of the ocean, from the line to
the first field of pickled ice, before the hour-glass is half run.''
   ""Master, I'll look south on the polar star,--call every whale,
sea-monster, and ice-shagged spirit by his name, and return to
you before the cock-bittern can boomb his vesper.''

                     ""And I'll to the moon,
                     And the stars aboon,
                     And rack rny invention
                     For the coming contention:
                     And the wind and the weet,
                     And the snow and the sleet,
                     I'll gather and gather,
                     And drive them on hither.''

  With that the three imps departed on their several missions,
but not before they had seized me, and bound me to a ring on
a turret of the castle. The Master retired into his apartment
for some time, but soon came up to the level space on the top
of the castle, our old birth, and strode about in the most vio-
lent agitation, but appearing rather to be moved by anger and
impatience than by dread. At length, he came up to me, and
said, ""How now, droich? What thinkest thou of all this?''
  I said nothing, for I durst not answer a word.
  ""Dost thou think,'' continued he, ""that there exists another
being, either mortal or immortal, like me, thy master?''
  I still durst not answer a word; for if I had said <1no,>1 it
would have been blasphemy; and if I had said <1yes,>1 it wouId
have provoked him to do me a mischief; so I looked at my
bonds, and held my peace.
   ""Thou darest not say there is,'' continued he; ""but I know
what thou thinkest. Sit thou there in peace till this great trial
of power be over; and if thou darest for thy life invoke
another name than mine, thou shalt never stir from that spot
dead or alive. But if thou takest heed to this injunction, and
cease from all petitions to, or mention of, a name which thou
mayest judge superior to mine, then shalt thou be set at
liberty to join thy friends.''
   I determined to attend to this,--but he waited not for my
answer, but strode away, looking now and then on the book
of destiny, and at the western heaven alternately. At length
he exclaimed, ""Yonder they come! Yonder they rise in grand
battalia! Noble and potent spirits! How speedily have you
executed your commission. Yonder comes the muster of my
array, and who shall stand against them!''
   I looked towards the west when I heard him talking in such
ecstacies, but could see nothing save a phalanx of towering
clouds, rolling up in wreaths from the dun horizon. I had
seen the same scene a hundred times, and could hardly help
smiling at his enthusiasm, especially when he went over a long
muster-roll of the names of spirits and monsters whom he saw
approaching in the cloud. "It is a sign that warlocks have clear
een,' thinks I, quietly, "for I see nothing but a range of rolling
and restless clouds.' However, he was so overjoyed with the
sight of this visionary array, that, having no other to commu-
nicate with, he came rapidly up to me, and said, ""Tell me,
droich, didst thou ever witness any thing so truly grand as the
approach of this host of mine?''
   ""You must first lend me the use of your eyes that I may
see them,'' said I; ""for, on my word, I see nothing save two
or three files of castled clouds, which I have seen an hundred
times.''
   With that he lent me a blow with his rod, and said, though
not apparently in wrath, ""Thou hast no brighter eyes, and no
brighter conceptions, than a hedgehog, but art a mere clod of
the valley, a worm; if I knew of aught lower to liken thee to,
I would do it! Dost thou see nothing like fleets and armies
approaching yonder? Dost thou not see an hundred and seven
of the ships of the ocean above, coming full sail, with colours
flying, and canvas spread? Seest thou not also, to the south
of these, two files of behemoths, with ten thousand warrior-
spirits beside?''
   I looked again, and though I was sensible it must be a
delusion brought on by the stroke of his powerful rod, yet I
did see the appearance of a glorious fleet of ships coming
bounding along the surface of the firmament of air, while
every mainsail was bosomed out like the side of a Highland
mountain. I saw, besides, whole columns of what I supposed
to be crocodiles, sharks, kelpies, and water-horses, with a
thousand monsters never dreamed of by human being. The
Master marked my astonishment, and exulted still the more;
and then he desired me to turn round, and look toward the
north. At first I could see nothing; but on being touched
again with the divining-rod, I shall never forget such a sight
as opened gradually to my view. The whole northern hemis-
phere, from the eastern to the western horizon, was covered
with marshalled hosts of the shades of gigantic warriors. They
were all mailed in white armour, as if it had been sprinkled
with hoar-frost; and their beards, which had the appearance of
icicles, hung down, swinging, in the wind, like so many inverted
forests, stripped of their foliage and bark, and encrusted with
ice. They were all mounted on the ghosts of crackens, whales,
and walruses: and for bows and quivers each had a blown
bladder on his back as large as the hill of Ben-Nevis. My heart
quaked at the view of these tremendous polar spirits, and I
said, ""Great and magnificent Master, are yon terrible chaps
all coming hither?''
   ""Certes they are,'' said he: ""Why dost thou ask after having
heard my mandate sent forth?''
   ""Because,'' said I, ""If yon bearded spirits be a' coming here,
I wish I were somewhere alse, for the like of yon was never
beheld by man. If your opponents dare face you, they have a
spirit beyond what I can conceive.''
   ""They will be here, and that instantly,'' said he, ""And lo!
yonder they come! I will go down and meet them on the open
field. But, in the meantime, I will loose you with my own
hands, for who knows what may be the issue of this day; re-
main where thou art, for here thou shalt be safe, but no where
else.''
   I looked; and as far as my eyes could discern, I saw as it
were a thousand thousand sparks of fire rising from the east,
that came in a straight line toward me, and with great velocity.
As they came nearer I perceived that they were all fiery ser-
pents, with faces like men, and small flaming spears issuing
from their mouths, which they held between their teeth, or
drew in as they listed. These were led on to the combat by
the arch-fiend himself, who came at their head in the form of
a huge fiery dragon with his iron crown on his head, and wings
springing from his shoulders behind, that reached as high
as the hill of Blackandro. "Aih! God guide us!' thinks I to
mysel, "Michael has an awsome adversary to contend with the
day! ' He was nothing daunted, however, but went boldly down
the valley, where he was met by hosts of crawling monsters,
such as snakes, lizards, and a thousand others. These I took
to be the spirits of the element of earth,--but they were
lubbards in a field of battle, for, at a brandish of the Master's
magical rod, they ran off wagging their tails in such a ven-
geance of a hurry that they overturned one another.
   The van of Michael's western array had by this time gained
the middle sky, and hung boiling and wheeling like a troubled
ocean straight above his head and above mine. Its colour was
as dark as pitch, but there was now and then a shade of a
dead white colour rolled out, and as suddenly again swallowed
up in the darkness. I never saw ought so awfully sublime. It
had now descended so low, that it hid the polar giants entirely
from my view, and the Master kept waving his rod towards it,
and clapping his left hand always on the black book, till at
length, with the motion of a whirlpool, the cloud came and
settled all round him. The fiend and his firebrands perceiving
this, darted with the utmost fury into the middle of it, and
the most tremendous crash of thunder ensued that ever shook
heaven and earth. My eyes were dazzled so that I could not
see ought distinctly, but I perceived these flaming meteors
glancing and quivering round the verges of the darkness, and
ever and anon darting again into it. Seven of these peals of
thunder succeeded one another, and then I saw the spirits of
flame would overcome, for the darkness began to scatter, and
I saw the Master hard bested, defending himself with his rod
against a multitude. He then cried with a loud voice, and
waved his rod toward the north, and that moment the giant
warriors of the polar regions loosed all their quivers at once,
and with such effect, that they tossed the opposing legions
before them like chaff. The hailstones, the snow, and the
sleet, poured upon them thicker and faster, and the wind
roared louder than their thunders had gone before. There was
no more power in their foes to stand before them; they were
scattered, driven away, and extinguished. When the Master
saw this, he shouted aloud for joy, calling out "Victory!' and
leaping from the ground in ecstacy. But when he was in the
very paroxysm of exultation, the great dragon came round
with a circular motion behind the castle, and approaching be-
hind the wizard's back before he was aware, seized him by the
hair with one paw, and by the iron belt with the other, and
bore him off into the air straight upward. The Master struggled
and writhed very hard, but never opened his lips. At length,
after great exertion, he struck the monster a blow with his
rod that made him quit his hold, and fly away yelling after his
discomfited legions.
   The Master fell to the ground from a great height, and lay
still, and when I saw no one to come near him, I left the cor-
ner where I had hid myself, and ran to his assistance; but he
was quite dead. His teeth had severed his tongue in two, and
were clenched close together; his eyes were open, and every
bone of his body was broken. Having witnessed the unspeak-
able value of the golden rod, I put out my hand and took
hold of it, wanting to bring it away with me, but I might as
well have tried to have heaved the castle from its foundations.
Besides, when I tugged at it, the dead man turned his eyes to-
ward me with a fierceness that chilled me to the heart, so I
fled and came hitherward with all my might. He is lying in a
little hidden valley, at the side of the burn, immediately above
the castle, with the book of fate locked in his bosom, his rod
in his hand, and his eyes open. I have now described to your
Majesties this scene exactly as I saw it; but I must also tell
you, that when I came to the mill, both the miller and his
man, neither of whom knew me, said it had been an awful
storm of thunder and lightning. I asked if they perceived no-
thing about it but a common storm of thunder and lightning?
And they said, nothing, save that it was exceedingly violent,
and rather uncommon at such a season of the year. I have,
therefore, some suspicions that there might be magical delu-
sion operating on my sight; but of this I am certain, that the
great enchanter was carried up into the middle space between
heaven and earth, fell down, and was killed.''
   ""I think there can be no doubt,'' said the King, ""that what
you have told us is the plain and unvarnished truth, though,
perhaps, the rod of divination might open your eyes to see
the storm in a different light from that seen by the eyes of
common men. Of this there can be no doubt, that the greatest
man, and the most profound scholar of the age, has perished
in this conflict of the elements. He has not only kept the
world in awe, but in dreadful agitation for the space of
thirty years; let us, therefore, all go to-morrow and see him
honourably interred. I ask no rites of sepulture to be per-
formed over his remains, which, if living, he would have
deprecated, only let us all go and see his body reverendly
deposited in the tomb, lest it be left to consume in the
open fields.''
   They went, and found him lying as stated, only that his
eyes were shut, some of his attendant elves having closed
them over night. His book was in his bosom, and his rod in
his hand, from either of which no force of man could sever
them, although when they lifted the body and these together,
there was no difference in weight from the body of another
man. The King then caused these dangerous relics to be
deposited along with the body in an iron chest, which they
buried in a vaulted aisle of the abbey of Melrose; and the
castle of Aikwood has never more been inhabited by mortal
man.