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Luck is Everything.
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Hector O'Halloran.
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Captain O'Sullivan.
Flood and Field.
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Running the Gauntlet.
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Man of Many Friends.
Passion and Principle.
Merton.
Gervase Skinner.
Cousin William.
Fathers and Sons.
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THE
CAPTAIN OF THE GUAED.
BY
JAMES GRANT,
AUTHOR OF
"THE EOMANCB OE WAE," " LETTY HYDE'S LOVEttS,'' "SECOND TO NONE,"
ETC. ETC.
LONDON:
GEORGE EOUTLEDGE AND SONS,
THE BROADWAY, LUDGATE;
HEW YOR£: 416, BROOME STREET.
BY JAMES GRANT.
Price 2s. each, Forney Bocvrds.
THE BOMANCE OB WAB.
THE AIDE-DE-CAMP.
THE SCOTTISH CAVALIEB.
BOTHWELL.
JANE SETON; OB, THE QUEEN'S ADVOCATE
PHILIP EOLLO.
LEGENDS OF THE BLACK WATCH.
MABY OF LOEEAINE.
OLIYEE ELLIS; OB, THE FUSILIERS.
LUCY AEDEN; OE, HOLLYWOOD HALL.
FEANK HILTON; OE, THE QUEEN'S OWN.
THE YELLOW FEIGATE.
HAEEY OGILVIE; OE, THE BLACK DRAGOONS
ABTHTJB BLANE.
LAUBA EVEEINGHAM; OE, THE HIGHLANDEES OF GLENOB/..
THE CAPTAIN OF THB GUAED.
LETTY HYDE'S LOVEES.
THE CAYALIEBS OF FORTUNE.
SECOND TO NONE.
THE CONSTABLE OP FBANCE,
THE PHANTOM EEGIMENT.
THE KING'S OWN BORDERERS.
THE WHITE COCKADE.
FIRST LOVE AND LAST LOVE.
GECKGE BOUTLEDGE AND SONS,
THE BROADWAY, LUDGATB.
PEEFACE.
Many of the scenes and episodes which are deli-
nsated in the following story are taken from the annals
of Scotland.
Those which belong to romance I leave the l-eader
to discover.
My wish has been to portray the state of the nation
and its people during the reign of the second James,
without afflicting the reader by obsolete words and
obscure dialects, which few now care about, and still
fewer would comprehend, but following history as
closely as the network of my own narrative would
permit.
In some of the proceedings of the Douglas family, and
minor details, it has suited my purpose to adhere to
other sources of information, rather than the " Peerage,"
or the folio of Master David Hume, of Godscroft, the
quaint old historian of the House of Douglas.
Marck, 1862.
THE CAPTAIN OE THE GUARD.
CHAPTER I.
the four coffins.
God save the king, and bless the land
In plenty, joy, and peace ;
And grant henceforth that foul debate
'Twixt noblemen may cease.—Chevy Chase
On the evening of the 22nd November, 1440, the
report of a brass carthoun, or cannon-royale, as it pealed
from the castle of Edinburgh, made all who were in the
thoroughfares below raise their eyes to the grey ram-
parts, where the white smoke was seen floating away from
the summit of King David's Tower, and then people were
seen hastening towards the southern side of the city,
where the quaint old streets and narrow alleys opened
into the fields, or the oakwoods of Bristo and Drums-
heugh.
Crowds from all quarters pressed towards the Pleas-
ance, the route by which the great earl of Douglas
(duke of Touraine and lord of Longoville), who had been
invited to visit the young king, was expected to enter
the city. Curiosity was excited, as it was anticipated
that his train would be a brilliant one. All in the
secluded metropolis of the north were on tiptoe to
behold a sight such as they had not been gratified with
2
THE CAPTAIN' OF THE GUARD.
since the ambassadors of Amadens VIII., duke of
Savoy, had come to ask the hand of the king's little
sister, Annabella, for his son, the valiant Louis Count de
Maurienne, to whom, however, she preferred a Scottish
earl, with a Scottish home, on the bonnie banks of the
Clyde.
The boom of the same cannon brought to the bartizan
of the great tower whereon it stood four armed men,
who immediately turned their eyes towards the south.
Two of these were men well up in years. They wore
furred caps of maintenance, denoting their high rank or
position, and had long crimson robes, with capes of
ermine that fell to their elbows. Beneath these flowing
garments there glittered at times their steel haber-
geons, and the embroidered belts which sustained their
swords.
One was a man of a tall figure and noble presence,
with a long, grave, and pleasing face.
The other was equally noble in bearing, but his face
was less pleasing in expression, for his temples were
hollow, his eyes keen, his brows knit, and there played
about his thin, cruel lips , a crafty but courtly smile.
" Summon Romanno, the constable; bid him display
the king's standard—call the garrison to their arms—
shut gates and barriers," were the orders given rapidly
by both at the same moment.
The first was Sir Alexander Livingstone, of Callendar,
Regent of Scotland, and governor of the young king,
James II., then in his eleventh year.
The second was Sir "William Crichton of that ilk, the
Lord Chancellor, appointed by the Parliament, after the
murder of the late King James I., in the Black Friary,
*t Perth-
THE FOUR COFFINS.
3
" Red-haired Achanna, with his Judas-coloured heard,
has played his cards well for us and for the king,""said
the Chancellor, with a crafty smile.
" Achanna," replied the Regent, grimly; " a
wretch born with the stamp of hell on his forehead—a
hireling clerk, as well as swashbuckler."
"But a useful man withal, and said to be a go-be-
tween of Douglas and Duke Robert of Albany."
James Achanna, the person to whom they referred,
was a red-haired and red-bearded gentleman, of Gallo-
way, outwardly a stanch adherent of Douglas, but in
the secret pay of his enemies, the Regent and Chancellor.
Thus he had conveyed the artful message by which the
hostile earl, and the chief members of his family, were
lured to visit the court of the young king.
" So he is in sight at last," said the Regent through his
clenched teeth ; " do you see his train, my lord ?"
" Aye ; on the road by Kirk-liber ton. He is coming
down the brae in his bravery, with banner and spear,
but that pride shall have a fall, for he comes to his
doom."
"But, Chancellor, his countess and her sister,"-whis-
pered the Regent; " they—they "
" Well j what of them ?"
" Must they too perish ?"
" Let the whole brood perish at one fell swoop," was
the fierce response, in a husky whisper. " Had they but
one neck, I tell thee, Livingstone, it should be laid on
the block that awaits the Douglas in the hall below us."
" Hush !"
"And wherefore hush?" continued the elder states-
man, fiercely.
v Know ye not that Sir Patrick Gray loves the earl's
n 2
4
THE CAPTAIN OP THE GUARD.
cousin ?" said the Regent, glancing hastily at their two
companions, who stood a little way from them.
" Murielle Douglas," replied Crichton, grinding his
sharp teeth ; " well, be it so ; hut I shall give her a
colder gudeman than the king's liege subject, and the
Captain of his Guard—will God I shall !"
The Regent waved his gloved hand to impress the
caution he wished his colleague to observe, and, as if
afraid to trust his discretion further, withdrew to a
corner of the rampart enclosing the summit of the great
tower, which then formed the donjon or keep of the
castle of Edinburgh ; but ever and anon, as the gleam of
arms flashed in the sunlight, on the green pastoral
slopes of Liberton, they exchanged a deep and bitter
smile.
Two handsome young men, who had not yet spoken,
but who attended them and stood apart, were
sheathed in complete armour, and wore the beautiful
bascinets of that reign ; these had a tube for the plume,
and were encircled] by a camaile like the old caps of the
Templars. They had gorgeous military girdles and long
swords, globular corslets, and wide hanging sleeves of
scarlet cloth lined with yellow silk (the royal colours),
depending from their shoulders j this was a very anoma-
lous fashion with armour, but formed a portion of the
military foppery of that day.
He with the short beard and black moustache, in the
prime of strength and manhood, is Sir Patrick Gray,
a younger son of the lord of Foulis, and Captain of the
Kings Guard; and he, the less in stature, the junior in
years, with fair hair and merry eyes, is Sir Thomas Mac
Lellan of Bombie, his cousin and friend, and lieutenant
the same guard, which the Regent had embodied to
THE FOTTR COFFINS.
5
protect the person of the young king from the perils
amid which his father had perished—perils which the
house of Douglas seemed about to revive.
" Do you see, gentlemen, how the lances in his train
glitter, as they come rank on rank over yonder long
green brae?" said the Regent, turning round; " by my
soul, Lord Chancellor, he has an escort that might befit
a king !"
"A train of cut-throats, swashbucklers, and scrape-
trenchers; MacDouals, MacGhies, Achannas, and Mac-
Combies "
" Chancellor, do not add MacLellans, I pray you,"
interrupted the lieutenant of the guard.
" The broken men of Galloway," continued the Chan-
cellor, wrathfully ; " the bullyrooks of Thrave—outlaws,
whose unchristian acts would put to shame the pagans of
Argier or Cathay—of the Soldan or Prester John ! and
I say so, under favour, Sir Thomas," he added, turning
with a sudden smile to the lieutenent, who was chief of
the MacLellans of Bombie, a powerful family, whose
lands were surrounded by those of the Douglases and
their adherents.
" Do you include the Lord Abbot of Tongland among
those rare fellows 1" asked Sir Thomas, who was piqued
for the honour of his native province.
" An abbot who acts as the earl's beadsman can be
little better," was the sour reply.
The young man bit his moustache impatiently, but the
more politic Regent, to soothe the irritation which his
colleague's words were inspiring, said hastily to one who
had hitherto been silent, " Sir Patrick Gray, how many
followers think you, by your soldier's eye, the earl hath
under his banner yonder ?"
6
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
"At least two thousand men, with horse and speai, if
I may judge by the breadth of the road, and the cloud of
dust they raise," replied the captain of the guard, with
soldier-like brevity and confidence.
Two thousand !" muttered the Regent; " passing
strong for a mere subject."
" Douglas never leaves his castle gates with less," said
MacLellan ; " and wherefore marvel ? They are not so
many after all for such an .earl as Douglas, when the
laird of Roslin's daughter never enters Edinburgh with
less than seventy mounted gentlemen in her train, each
clad in a velvet jupon, with a chain of gold at his neck."
" Two thousand lances," muttered the Chancellor also,
stroking his shaven chin, for beards were only worn by
soldiers at that time, and not always by them.
"And you have but three hundred men-at-arms in
garrison here—billmen and cannoneers?" whispered the
Regent.
" But they are all my own vassals, men bred under my
rooftree since they were boys of the belt; these, with a
hundred pikes of the king's guard, are more than enough
for our purpose, within a castle so strong as this,"
replied the Chancellor, whose pale lips quivered with the
nervous fury he strove in vain to conceal from the two
gentlemen who stood at the other corner of the bartizan j
for a plot had been laid to destroy the mighty earl of
Douglas, one of those dark, terrible, and sudden plots,
which, under the name of raids, so frequently convulsed
the kingdom of Scotland, and marked its martial annals
with blood and crime, the only shadows that tinge a
great and glorious past.
The soldiers, pages, and idlers of the castle who had
been playing at troy, chess, or shovel-board, for the
THE FOUR COFFINS.
7
bonnet pieces and silver pennies of King James, relin-
quished their sport, and crowded to the ramparts to
observe the approach of the now obnoxious and turbulent
Douglas.
And now, for a time, these four persons described con-
tinued to observe in silence the approaching train of the
great feudal peer, the lances of whose vassalage (among
them were many knights, barons, and gentlemen of his
surname) glinted biightly in the evening sun, as they
moved down the northern slope of Liberton, past the old
tower built by David Liberton, sergeant of the overward
of the constabulary of Edinburgh, in the time of David II.,
and past the older church, the foundation of which fond
tradition unvaryingly ascribed to Macbeth, though,
mysteriously enough, on its demolition in 1815, there
was found in its base an iron medal of the 13th century,
inscribed in Kussian characters, " The Grand Prince'
St. Alexander Yaroslavitch Neffoskoy."
On the earl's train disappearing among the wooded
hollows which lay between the city and the furzy slope
of Braid and Liberton, the captain of the guard and his
kinsman the lieutenant, with their esquires, pages, and
lacqueys passed forth from the castle, to swell the retinue
of the chief magistrate of the city, Sir Thomas Cranston
of that ilk, baron of Denholm and Stobs, warden of the
marches, and one of the conservators of peace upon the
borders, for the steel-gloved provosts of those stirring
times were men of a different metal from the men of
words, who " twaddle " in the same place in this age of
steam and electricity.
As they passed out, the king's master butcher entered
the gateway of the fortress, accompanied by a peddie or
foot-boy, bearing a covered bundle upon a trencher.
8
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
This covered bundle contained a black bulVs head.
' See you that, Sir Alexander?" said the Chancellor,
twitching the furred sleeve of his compatriot.
" The black bull's head I" said the other, with an irre-
pressible shudder.
" Yes ; for the banquet to-morrow."
" Holy Dame 1"
"It is the fatal signal, to be placed on the table the
moment the king rises.''
" The king! Oh, Chancellor," said the Regent, in a
voice that turned almost to a groan, " after all I have
ux'ged, mean you that he, poor boy, shall share the odium
of our act—a deed at which one half of Scotland, and
perhaps all France, may cry aloud ?"
" Let them cry; the end shall sanctify the means.
With Douglas in his grave, the great seal will be firmer
in my hands, the sceptre lighter in yours, and the crown
shall shine the brighter on the head of him whose father
was wronged and slain by such as Douglas in the Black
Friary at Perth."
" I pray God all may end as you predict," said the
Regent, doubtfully; " but yet I shudder when contem-
plating this lure—this snare; the mock banquet, the
mock tribunal, and the bloody lykewake of the morrow."
That night, after dusk, four coffins were secretly con-
veyed up the rock, and through the west postern of the
castle, by James Achanna and other "muffled" or
masked men, and these were concealed in the chancellor's
private closet, the door of which opened off the great
hall of David's tower.
These coffins were covered with crimson velvet and
had nails, handles, and plates of gold, or at least of
richly gilt work.
the pour coffins.
9
The first had the name of the most potent prince
William, sixth earl of Douglas, third duke of Touraine,
lord of Longoville, Galloway, Annandale, and Liddesdale,
qui obit 2Zrd Wou., 1440, in his seventeenth year.
The second coffin bore the name of his younger bro-
ther, Lord David, qui obit IZrd Nov., 1440.
The third bore the name of his countess, Margaret
Douglas, so famed for her beauty as the Fair Maid of
Galloway, qui obit 22>rd Nov., 1440, in her eighteenth
year.
The fourth bore the name of his sister, Lady Murielle
Douglas, two years younger, with the same fatal inscrip-
tion, qui obit 23rd Nov., 1440.
Beyond these four coffins, in the gloom of that vaulted
closet, were a grindstone, an axe, and a block.
We have opened our story on the evening of the
twenty-second November ; thus we shall soon see with
what intent these terrible objects were provided.
10
the captain of the guard.
CHAPTER IL
william, duke of touraine.
Vails not to tell each hardy clan,
From the fair middle marches come ;
The Bloody Heart blazed in the van,
Announcing Douglas, dreaded name !—Scott.
At this time the house of Douglas, one which in past
ages had ever led the van of battle in the cause of
Scottish honour and liberty, had attained the most exor-
bitant, and in] that warlike and feudal epoch, dangerous
power—a power that never ceased to menace the free-
dom of the people on one hand, and the independence of
the throne on the other.
"William, sixth earl of Douglas, and third duke of
Touraine, had just succeeded to the vast possessions of
his family by the death of his father, Archibald, who
had been Lieutenant-General of Scotland, and Marshal
of France, and who died at Restalrig, in 1439.
In his seventeenth year, William found himself master
of all the princely heritage his warlike sire had left him,
the earldom of Douglas, with the lordships of Bothwell,
Annandale, and Liddesdale; the county of Longoville,
and the dukedom of Touraine, " the garden of France."
To these he had added the principality of Galloway,
the county of Wigton, and the lordship of Balvenie, by
marriage with his cousin, Margaret, the Fair Maid of
Galloway, a high-born girl of great beauty and spirit,
who was one year his senior, and whose proud and fiery
temper made her prove his evil mentor in many an act
of folly and outrage; while Lady Murielle, the younger and
gentler sister, whose loveliness was long embalmed in
william, duke oe toueaike.
11
many a sweet old Galloway song, strove anxiously, but
vainly, to avert them.
Even in that age of pridej vain of his lofty ancestry,
which he could trace back through a long line of brave
and loyal nobles to that Sholto Dhu-glas, the grey and
swarthy warrior, who, in the eighth- century, slew
Donald of the Isles—rendered powerful by the vast num-
ber, the unity and rank of his vassalage, by the strength
of his fortresses and extent of his territories, which in-
eluded the richest and most important districts of the
kingdom ; hourly told by high-born and artful flatterers
that he possessed wealth equal, and armed forces superior,
to the king, this rash young noble had of late begun to
assume all the state of a crowned head.
On the death of his father, he sent into France two
ambassadors to Charles VII., to make his oath of fealty
for the dukedom of Touraine.
These unwise envoys, Sir Alan Lauder, of the Bass, a
knight of Lothian, and Sir Malcolm Fleming, lord of
Biggar and Cumbernauld, were received by the French
monarch with a degree of state and ceremony on which
the Begent and Chancellor of Scotland, as guardians of
its young king, could not fail to look with jealous eyes ;
thus, stifling their secret piques and heart-burnings, they
resolved to coalesce for the public weal, and to watch,
win, or crush this war-like feudatory, whose power,
ambition, and splendour overtopped the throne, and
threatened to extinguish themselves.
On the other hand, flattered by the messages of
Charles the Victorious, despising the Regent and Chan-
cellor as mere knights of Lothian, the young earl became
guilty of outrages, and evinced an arrogance, that made
all tremble for the issue.
12
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
When he left any of his castles, he saever rode with
less than one or two thousand knigferj and horsemen
in his train, all brilliantly armed and accoutred; and
this haughty retinue frequently carried havoc, and
always terror, wherever they appeared. His household
was magnificent; he appointed his petty officers of state,
and within his castle-halls of Thrave, Bothwell, and
Douglas, held courts which rivalled the meetings of
Parliament; while, to the many royal summonses sent
him, ; scornful and insolent answers, dictated by his
friends, or rather by those who were the friends of his
father, the knights Fleming and Lauder, were returned
to the Regent and Chancellor.
Under his banner and name, his followers, many of
whom were nobles, thus filled the land with outrage
and tumult. The people were without protection and
without redress, while the court of the young king was
daily crowded by suppliants who cried for vengeance.
" There were," saith Lyndessy, in his Chronicles, " so
many widows, bairns, and infants seeking redress for
husbands, kindred, and friends, who had been cruelly
slain by wicked murderers; siclike, many for hership,
theft, and reif, that there was no man but would have
had ruth and pity to hear the same. Soon murder,
theft, and slaughter were in such common dalliance
among the people, and the king's power had fallen into
such contempt, that no man wist where to seek refuge
unless he swore himself a servant to some common
murderer or tyrant, to maintain himself against the
invasion of others, or else gave largely of his gear to save
his life, and afford him peace and rest."
Not content with having produced all this, the young
duke, or earl, urged by his ambitious counsellors, dared
WILLIAM, DUKE OF TOURAINE.
13
openly to impugn the king's title to the crown, affecting
to prefer the claims of his own uncle, Malise, earl of
Strathearn, who was descended from Euphemia Ross, the
second queen of Robert II.; and he intrigued with
Robert Stuart, the exiled son of the king's uncle, the
late Murdoch, duke of Albany, to subvert the Royal
succession.
Sir Alexander Livingstone, the Regent, and Sir "William
Crichton, the Lord Chancellor, saw that a crisis had come
in the affairs of the realm; that the throne and their own
position must sink together beneath the overweening
power of Douglas unless a dreadful blow were struck;
and thus, with all the dark ferocity and stern subtlety of
the age in which they lived, they prepared to strike it !
James Hanna, or Achanna, one of those smooth-
tongued political villains, of whom Scotland has in all
ages produced a plentiful brood—a wretch who for gold
contrived to be a secret adherent and deluder of both
parties, was despatched with a royal message to Dou-
glas's castle of Thrave, in the name of the Regent and
Chancellor.
In this mandate, which bore the privy seal of the
realm, they " professed the highest esteem for the young
earl's character, and a profound regret for the petty
jealousies which had so long separated them. They
anxiously and earnestly solicited his august presence
at court that he might cultivate the friendship of his
sovereign, now in his eleventh year, and lend his great
talents and influence to the administration of affairs—
while the presence of the countess and her sister, Lady
Muriel! e, could not fail to shed some rays of splendour on
the court, and be a source of joy to the young princesses,
*Jie sisters of his majesty."
14
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
This document, so fulsome when addressed to an almost
untutored boy, added, that on the vigil of St. Catherine,
a banquet in celebration of their friendship and the extinc-
tion of discord would be royally held in the great hall
of the castle at Edinburgh.
The young earl smiled scornfully on hearing this mis-
sive read by the wily Achanna on his knees; but he
tossed from his wrist a hawk with which he had been
playing, and replied—
"My father never yielded to James I., nor will I
to James II., and his two cock lairds of Lothian, who
pretend to govern Scotland. Nevertheless, we shall
mount and go, were it but to flaunt our bravery at
court."
Sir Malcolm Fleming, of Cumbernauld, an old and faith-
ful friend of his father, urged him to mistrust Crichton
and remain among his followers ; but the desire to dazzle
his enemies by the splendour of his retinue, and the argu-
merits of his kinsman, the earl of Abercorn, outweighed
all that the more faithful and wary could advance.
And herein lay a secret which death might reveal
to him ; but in life he would never discover.
James the Gross, earl of Abercorn, had loved, but
'in vain, the beautiful Maid of Galloway, who preferred
her younger and more handsome cousin, Earl William j
but James was the next heir to the latter, if he and Lord
David died without children : thus avarice, ambition, and
revenge spurred him on, and caused him to urge the
immediate acceptance of the Chancellor's invitation, and
his energetic advice, with the young earl's vain-glorious
wish, bore down all the faithful Fleming could urge.
James Achanna was the villanous tool who worked for
him in the dark; and herein was another sec""' • for
WILLIAM, DUKE OF TOURAIr. 15
Achanna had been a page to the father of the countess,
and had loved her too.
This love had expanded suddenly, like a flower that
blooms in a night under a tropical moon, and the coquette
soon discovered it.
" You love me %" said she imperiously, reining up
her horse, as they one day rode side by side near the loch
of the Carlinwark.
" Yes," said the page, tremulously, and covered with
confusion by the abruptness of the question.
" How old are you, James Achanna ?"
" I am four-and-twenty, madam."
" You are but a boy," said she, laughing.
" I am six years your senior," he replied, gathering
courage.
" And you think me beautiful ?"
" Oh, madam ! "
" At your age boys think all women beautiful. But,
my presuming page, you must cease with this folly and
learn to know your place, or it may be changed to one
more exalted;" and she pointed with her riding-switch
to a stone corbel called the gallows-knob above the gate
of Thrave.
The cheek of Achanna grew deadly pale; he ceased
the " folly j" but from thenceforth thought only of
revenge, and afterwards entered readily into the scheme
by which the Douglases were lured to Edinburgh.
Thus, summoning Sir Alan Lauder, his Master of the
Horse, the young earl, with all the impetuosity of a
pampered boy, ordered his train to be assembled, and set
forth for the capital.
Achanna preceded him on the spur, and reached Edin-
burgh a day or two before him.
16
the captain of the guard.
The reader will now begin to perceive why those four
coffins were conveyed by him, under cloud of night, into
the vaults of David's Tower; and why a black bull's
head, the ancient symbol of sudden death and slaughter
among the Celtic Scots, was concealed by the King's
master-butcher in the cabinet of the Chancellor.
CHAPTER III.
the entrance.
do many and so good
Of the Douglases have been ;
Of one surname in Scotland
Never yet were seen.—Old Rhyme.
Mounted on fine horses, the bridles and saddles of
which were covered by elaborate steel and silver bosses,
Sir Patrick Gray, Captain of the King's Guard, with his
cousin and Lieutenant, Sir Thomas MacLellan, of Bom-
bie, fully armed and equipped, rode down the steep path
from the castle, and, traversing the town, proceeded
towards the street by which the earl of Douglas and his
train were expected to enter.
For small bonnets of fine blue Flemish cloth, they
had relinquished their heavy bascinets, with their large
plumes and velvet tippets, which were borne behind them
by pages.
The Captain of the Guard was preceded by a mounted
esquire, Andrew Gray, of Balgarno, bearing his banner
gules, a lion rampant, within a border engrailed;
Save the black or grey-robed Dominicans or Francis-
cans, and priests of other religious orders, all the men
of every rank who crowded the thoroughfares that led
THE ENTRANCE.
17
towards St. Mary's Wynd and the straggling street
which ascended from thence to the convent of St. Mary
de Placentia (whence to this day it is still named the
Pleasance), were well armed with habergeons and caps
of steel, swords, daggers, knives, and Jedwood axes—
for the paths of life, even for the greatest and noblest
in Scotland, were not strewn with roses in those days,
but rather with briars in the shape of blades and spears,
woes, wars, tumults, and turmoils, such as their descend-
ants cannot realize in these our days of peace and good
order.
Parting on all sides before the esquire, who bore the
banner, the people made way for the Captain of the
Guard, who with his kinsman joined the attendants of
the chief magistrate, Sir Thomas Cranstoun, who was
sheathed in complete mail—all save the head—and wore
at his gorget a massive chain of fine gold, the links of
which glittered among the white hair of his flowing
beard.
He was bravely mounted on a great Clydesdale battle-
horse; he wielded a heavy steel mace and wore a glit-
tering jupon, on which were embroidered the arms of his
family quartered with the triple castle of the city.
He was accompanied by all " the honest men " of the
city (honest men meant tradesmen—but this was in 1440),
preceded by the four baillies, the treasurer, the older
corporations, such as the fleshers, the furriers, the cor-
diners, the candlemakers, and others, under their several
devices and banners, and all armed to the teeth. These
martial craftsmen lined the narrow and crowded wynd,
and from thence up the broader High Street, by which
the earl was expected to proceed direct to the castle.
And now, to swell the multitude came several officers
c
18 the captain op the guard.
of state; accompanied by the beads of all tbe religious
bouses and tbe beralds of tbe king. Among tbem were
William Lord Hay, tbe High Constable; Walter Haly-
burton, tbe Lord Higb Treasurer, and William Turnbull,
a canon of Glasgow, wbo was Lord Privy Seal Amid
tbe buzz of tbe assembled multitude, on tbe varied colours
of wbose costumes tbe bright evening sunlight fell in
flakes between tbe broken masses of tbe picturesque old
streets, there were occasionally beard half audible expres-
sions of anxiety for tbe issue of this noble's visit, as bis
family and vast retinue of military retainers were so dreaded
for their petulance and turbulence, that all tbe booth-
holders and craimershad closed their places of business and
buckled on their armour to be ready for any emergency.
In the same spirit tbe baillies wore shirts of mail under
their velvet gowns, and the alarm increased rather than
diminished when the Provost was heard to say to
Sir Patrick Gray—" I am glad tbe King's Guard
are in readiness, for tbe wild men of Galloway and
those scurvy thieves and bullyrooks of Annandale* wbo
follow tbe banner of Douglas, are certain to work mis-
chief in tbe town."
Such was the state of feeling in Edinburgh when
• the long, glittering, and steel-clad train of tbe mighty
Douglas was seen descending the slope past the convent
of St. Mary, of which no relic now survives save a fine
alabaster carving which represents our Saviour brought
before the Jewish High Priest; and the excitement reached
its height when the Provost put spurs to his horse and
courteously rode forward to greet the noble visitor and
bid him welcome to the city with fair words of peace,
and to place himself upon his right—a condescension at
tvhich the surlier burghers murmured under their beards;
TeCe entrance.
19
for the Provost of Edinburgh, when within its boundary,
takes precedence of all nobles, and rides on the right hand
of a crowned sovereign only.
When the Provost rode forward, Sir Patrick Gray
touched his horse involuntarily with his spurs to follow
him; but MacLellan, who was chief of a Galloway
clan at variance with the Douglases, arrested the impulse
by grasping his bridle and saying hurriedly,—"Stay, kins-
man, be wary."
" Wherefore ?" asked Gray, with an air of annoyance ;
" for many months I have not seen Murielle."
" Then the greater reason to stay and make no advance
at present."
" The greater reason !" reiterated the other, with in-
creased surprise.
" Bear with me—but women often change their
minds."
" Thou art a libeller; she will never change, at all
events, and I shall risk—"
" The Regent's displeasure—the Chancellor's suspi-
cions 1" interrupted Mac Lellan, with a smile.
" You are right," replied Gray, checking his horse,
while his nether lip quivered with annoyance.
" Listen, kinsman," resumed MacLellan, " this Pro-
vost may leave his place, knight and baron though he be,
to speak well and fairly this great lord, whose train of
lances fill his burgess-wives with fear lest latches be
lifted, booths broken, and goods and gear be harried in
the night; but you, who bear the king's colours on your
surcoat, must not make any such advance, especially at
such a time as this, when Douglas, like his father before
him, hath acted the bullyboy to all Scotland."
" The advice is good, MacLellan," said the captain
c 2
20
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
with a sigh j " but still, will not Murielle expect that I—
I should—"
" Approach her ?"
" Yes—it is the merest courtesy."
" No; she must be aware that your place is beside the
High Constable, who, after our politic Provost here,
represents the King."
" Hush ! here come the archers—some of your wild
Scots of Galloway."
" Wild though you term us," said MacLellan, laugh-
ing, " we rough Galwegians lead the line of battle—our
privilege long before the field of Northallex*ton became
the grave of ten thousand Scotsmen."
The archers who headed the earl's train were now
passing among the crowd, and a band of most picturesque
looking desperadoes they were. In number about, eighty,
they had short bows in their hands, with swords and axes
in their broad leather girdles. They were bare-kneed and
bare-armed, with long bushy beards and thick matted
hair (which had never known a comb) falling in shaggy
volumes from under little helmets of steel. In some
instances they wore caps of boiled leather, fashioned to
the shape of the head, and crossed with a wicker work of
iron bands for defence. They wore socks* of untanned
deerskin, and pourpoints of coarse grey stuffs, with kilts
and mantles; and here and there might be seen one, who,
by the eagle's wing in his cap, claimed to be of gentle
blood; for these hardy and rudely clad warriors were the
lineal descendants of those wild Celts of Galloway, who,
since Corbred Galdus, king of Scotland, was slain by the
Romans at Torhouse, had the privilege of leading the
-fan of the Scottish hosts in battle.
After them came the earl's confessor, John Douglas,
•THE ENTRANCE.
21.
Abbot of Tongland (accompanied by bis cross-bearer, hb
enaunter, and three priests), a learned old churchman
who had long favoured a very strange project for the
especial behoof o£ his Satanic majesty; but of this more
anon.
Next came James Douglas (by his habits surnamed:
the Gross), earl of Abercorn and Avondale, a powerfully
formed but bulky and obese man, with eyes and mouth
betokening cruelty, pride, and wickedness. He was in
full armour, with his barred visor up. He was surrounded-
by esquires, pages, and lacqueys, and his horse was led,
for in his hands he bore aloft a vast cross-handled sword,-
with a broad wavy blade.
This was the weapon whilome wielded in the wars of
Bruce by the Black Knight of Liddesdale, " The Flower
of Chivalry;" and now it was borne as a palladium, or
sword of state, before his more aspiring descendant.
Hugh Douglas, earl of Ormond, similarly accoutred,
but in black armour engraved with gold, bore the banner
of his chief, a wilderness of heraldic blazonry—azure,
argent, or, and gules; but above all, over Galloway,.
Avondale, Longoville, and Touraine, shone the bloody
heart of glorious memory—the symbol of that god-like
heart which beat in victory at Bannockburn, and lay cold
with the "Good Sir James," amid the Moorish host of
Teba. It was topped with an imperial crown and the
three stars; the paternal coat of Douglas, with the motto
—"Jamais arriere."
By his side rode Sir Malcolm Fleming of Cumbernauld,
and Sir Alan Lauder, of the Bass, who had borne the
young earl's vain-glorious and unwise embassy to France.
Eight knights of the surname of Douglas, who had won
their spurs where then spurs only could be won, in battle,
22
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
to wit, the Lairds of Glendoning, Strabrock, Pompherston,
Pittendreich, Douglasburn, Cairnglas, Braidwood, and
Glenbervie, all horsed and armed alike, the sole difference
being the heraldic cadence of descent on their splendidly
embroidered jupons and horse-trappings, bore on the
points of their lances a canopy of blue silk tasselled
and fringed with silver.
Under this princely canopy, the earl and countess—so
the people preferred to call them, rather than the duke and
duchess of Touraine—rode side by side on white horses.
They were very youthful, for the husband was only
seventeen, and his wife a year older; but they had a
stature and a bearing far beyond their ages.
"The Fair Maid of Galloway," as she was still named,
though a wedded wife, was a dark-haired, black-eyed, and
beautiful girl of a proud and imperious aspect, nor could
the grace of her lovely head and neck be hidden by the
grotesque horned head-gear which towered above her young
brow and waved upon her shoulders, glittering with gold
and spangles. She wore a long dark yellow riding robe,
trimmed with black wolfs fur, and having hanging tabard
sleeves, under which could be seen the sleeves of her
inner dress, which was cloth of silver, for this was the age
of profusion.
The boy-earl, her husband, wore a suit of light-tilting
armour, which, though polished as bright as new silver,
was almost concealed by his jupon, which was cloth of
gold. His helmet was borne by the page who led his
horse; and his dark curls and swarthy visage glowing
with youth, pride, and satisfaction, his dark sparkling
eyes and haughty bearing evinced, how, like his cousin
and wife, he inherited the blood of the Black Lord of
Liddesdaie.
THE ENTRANCE.
23
When the people saw this handsome young noble and his
lovely countess riding thus side by side in all the flush of
youth, the pride of rank, and feudal splendour, under that
gorgeous canopy upborne by those eight gold-belted and
gold-spurred knights of high degree, they forgot and forgave
all the wrongs and oppressions they had committed, and
prayed aloud "that God and St. Mary might sain them
and bless them;" but when young Lord David came, riding
beside Lady Murielle, and holding the bridle of her pretty
bay palfrey, the hushed applause broke forth, for., as a
younger sister and unwedded maid she had no canopy
over her charming head, so the sunshine of heaven fell
freely on her fair young brow, which had no horned
head-dress to conceal it, but only a little blue silken hood
and a golden caul to confine her beautiful hair.
Gray and MacLellan bowed low and kissed their
ungloved hands to the sisters as they passed.
Both ladies changed colour for a moment, but the
youngest most deeply and painfully, for she at first grew
very pale. Those who were acute in noting such indica-
tions of inward emotion might have discovered nothing
save vexation or annoyance in the eyes of the countess,
and the flush of tremulous pleasure in the returning blush
of Murielle, on suddenly meeting a lover whom she had
not seen for many months. But the pallor of one and the
flush of the other were keys to greater secrets. " Thank
heaven, her companion is only that simpleton, little Lord
David," said Gray, as his eyes followed hers; "when I saw
by her side a gallant so bravely apparelled, I thought
your croak about fickleness was about to prove prophetic,
MacLellan."
24
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
CHAPTER IY.
THE SISTERS.
ller lips were a cloven honey cherrie,
So tempting to the sight;
Her locks owre alabaster brows
"Fell like the morning light.
And, oh! the breeze it lifted her locks,
As through the dance she flew ;
While love laugh'd in her bonny blue ee,
And dwell'd in her comely mou'.
The Lobds' Mabie.
A LONG train of nearly two thousand mounted spear-
men, drawn from the Douglas estates in Lanarkshire and
Galloway made up this splendid " following," as such a
retinue was then termed; and as they wound up the long
vista of the crowded street, Gray contrived to place his
horse close to the bay palfrey of Murielle, and in a moment
they exchanged a deep glance and a pressure of the hand,
which explained what—in that age of little writing and
no post offices—they had hitherto been unable to tell,
that both were steadfast and true to the troth they had
plighted at the three thorn trees of the Carlinwark on a
moon-lit St. John's Eve, when the countess thought her
little sister was asleep in her lofty turret at Thrave.
" Do you pass forward to the castle to-night ?" he asked
Lord David, while fixing his glance on Murielle, for the
question related to her.
"No !" replied the little lord, with haughty reserve.
"Whither then?" asked Gray, while a shade of annoy-
ance crossed his handsome face.
"To the house of our kinsman, the abbot of Tongland;
does that please you ?"
THE SISTERS.
25
" Good, my lord, I shall there pay my respects to the
earl—and make all speed."
" Oh pray Sir Patrick, do not hurry yourself," was the
jibing reply.
" Till then, God be wi' you," said Sir Patrick, checking
his horse.
" Adieu," added Murielle, with another of her quiet
glances; but the lord, her cousin, turned bluntly away,
as the king's soldier wheeled his horse round, and with
mingled love and anger in his heart remained aloof till
the brilliant train passed on.
A group of handsome girls, nearly all of the surname
of Douglas, Maud of Pompherston, Mariota of Glendon-
ing, and others, accompanied Margaret and Murielle, as
dames dhonneur, or ladies of the tabourette, to be
educated and accomplished for the positions they were
destined to fill in the world : " To be reared to gifts
and graces, to silk embroidery, to ritual observances,"
and th; courtly art of winning high-born husbands, in
the household of the duchess of Touraine.
These girls managed their horses with grace, they
were all beautiful and gay, but the two sisters of Thrave
far exceeded them, though their loveliness differed like
the tints of spring and summer.
Murielle's beauty was in some respects inferior to that
of her proud and imperious sister, but it was of a more
winning and delicate character. Though there were
scarcely two years between them, Margaret seemed quite
a woman, while Murielle was still girl-like, and in her
merrier moods at times almost childish.
The abbot of Tongland relates in his writings, that
when Lady Murielle was born at Thrave, she was so
lovely a child that lest the fairies might steal her away,
26
THE CAPTAIN OP THE GUARD.
and leave' in lier cradle a bunch of reeds in her likeness,
her mother secretly consecrated her to God ; but con-
vents were already on the decline, and old Earl Archi-
bald of Douglas and Touraine, as her tutor, could not
brook the idea with patience.
"And what news had Sir Patrick Gray?" asked the
countess, coldly, as her horse' came close to Murielle's
during a stoppage caused by the pressure of the crowd. ■
"No news; nothing," replied Murielle, timidly, for
her sister, from infancy, had insidiously usurped an
authority over her, which habit had confirmed.
" Did he not speak?" asked Margaret imperiously.
" He merely made cousin David and me a reverence ;
little more, and passed on."
" After assuring himself, however, where he might be
able to see you to-night," added cousin David.
" Are you not happy, Margaret, to find these citizens
of the king receive us so well ?" said Murielle, to change
the subject.
" Dare they receive us otherwise ?" asked tbe countess,
while the eight bearded knights who bore her canopy
exchanged approving smiles under their uplifted visors.
" Sister !"
" "Well, sister ! These baillies and deacons in their
holiday gaberdines and worsted hosen—these websters
and makers of bonnets and daggers—these grimy four-
bissers, lorimers, and dalmaskers of iron, with their
carlins in curchies and plaids, do well and wisely to
cringe and vail their bonnets to-day."
" Wherefore ?"
" Have we not two thousand horse marshalled under
our banner ?" said the young earl, who shared to the
full the emotions of the haughty girl, his wife.
TiLE SISTERS.
44 True, my lord and cousin; but they might; like
dour carles, bite their thumbs, and scowl at us from under
their bonnets, for all our bravery," replied Murielle.
£: 'Tis a beautiful horse that roan of Sir Patrick Gray,"
said the earl; " and its housings are "
"Gules and or," interrupted Murielle, for then all
well-bred people knew the science of heraldry.
" His own colours, of course, and not the king's," said
the countess, with an artful smile; " you laugh lightly,
Murielle, because you love that man."
"Is it a sign of love to be merry?" asked Murielle,
softly, while her fine eyes dilated with wonder.
" Nay, sister, 'tis more often a sign of love to be sad,
and sad enough you were at times in Thrave. But
please God and St. Bryde, dear Murielle, even in these
stormy times, no cloud shall cast a shadow on any love
of yours."
" Even if he be the Captain of the King's Guard,"
said little Lord David, with the spirit of a mischievous
boy. His cousin coloured with an air of annoyance, but
said smilingly, while holding up a tiny finger, " Oh fie,
Davie, you had almost said "
" The captain of our enemy's band of hirelings," said
the fiery young earl, interrupting her; " and, under
the royal favour, he would have said right. I know,
sweet cousin, what my brother thinks, however he may
speak, or not speak."
This unpleasant turn to the conversation caused the
timid Murielle to shrink within herself, and the little lord
was beginning to laugh maliciously when a sudden brawl
ensued in the crowd, and Sir Malcolm Fleming, of Cum-
bernauld, on finding his horse incommoded by a group
of magistrates and deacons, daringly struck one of the
28
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
former on the head with the shaft of his lance, exclaim-
ing, " Back, sirrah, back! By St. Bryde, I will rend
the auld carle's beard frae his jaws !"
•" A Douglas ! a Douglas !" cried a horseman in a
closed helmet, pressing briskly forward.
This man was Abercorn's creature, James Achanna,
who, with his poleaxe, was ready to strike on both sides
to ferment a brawl, by which the grand coup in the
castle on the morrow might be anticipated.
" Armour—rescue !" cried a number of the armed
craftsmen, pressing also forward with swords drawn and
partizans lowered menacingly, as they were justly indig-
nant at an affront offered to one of their magistrates.
A tumult would undoubtedly have ensued, for Lord
David had drawn his little sword, and the young earl
only laughed as if it were sport to see his knights mal-
treat the burghers, but the rising fray was quelled by his
confessor, the politic old abbot of Tongland, who pushed
his horse between the belligerents, and while waving a
benison to the people with his right hand, by his left
arrested the threatening lance of the irate laird of Cum-
bernauld. So thus the matter happily ended, and. with
this single untoward affair the earl and his train reached
the town mansion of the abbot, which stood wittia.
spacious gardens on the southern slope of the Canongate,
the way that led to the abbey of Holyrood; for as yet,
the latter was simply an abbey house and church,
and not until sixty-four years after was a royal resi-
dence added to the sacred edifice which King David
(in honour of the fabled miracle by which his life was
saved) founded of old, in the wild part of the forest,
which was then nameless, or simply described as " the
hollow between two hills,'
THE SISTERS.
29
" You look weary, sister," said the countess, as the
earl kindly and gallantly lifted Murielle from her saddle
in the court-yard of the abbot's house.
" The long journey of the day has tired me, but after a
sound sleep I shall be fresh for morning mass in St.
Giles to-morrow; for is not to-morrow the vigil of
St. Catharine?"
"And the day of our banquet with the King, the
Regent, and Chancellor."
"Alake that such trust should be!" muttered Sir
Malcolm Fleming under his long white moustache.
"What, art croaking again, stout Cumbernauld?"
said the earl, laughing; " who can say but the young
king may fall in love with our Murielle, and make
her queen of Scotland ?"
The Douglas knights loudly applauded the surmise.
"How bright the sunset falls on yonder hill," said
Murielle, colouring with annoyance -} " how is it
named ?"
" Arthur Seat," replied Lord David.
" See how the rays fade upward, from rock to rock
and rift to rift, as the sun sinks. It makes me think o
our Galloway song," said Murielle, always a creature of
impulse, as she kissed her sister and sang :—
" A weary bodies blythe when the sun gaes down.
A weary bodies blythe when the sun gaes down;
To smile wi' his wife and to dawt wi' his weans -
Wha wouldna be blythe when the sun gaes down 1"
" Are you crazed, Murielle," said the Countess, with
a smile of disdain, "to lilt thus before grooms and
lacqueys ?"
But the bearded knights of Galloway, who had now
30
the captain of the guard.
relinquished the silk canopy to their pages, laughed
gaily and praised Murielle, whose charms and playfulness
ever won the hearts of all.
The earl's numerous retainers stowed themselves away
in the city, where they filled with noise and tumult all
the hostelries which had been established by the late
King James I. ; while the buffoons, in parti-coloured
caps and doublets, the plaided pipers, and bearded harpers,
who had followed them, made the streets, which, after
vespers, were usually quiet, a scene of continual mum-
ming, with alternate music and discord, as they danced
by torchlight before groups of citizens, who loitered at
their forestairs, galleries, and arcades j and so the night
of the 22nd November closed in, while the Regent's fol-
lowers kept the gates of the castle securely guarded.
CHAPTER Y.
the abbot's house.
Now gleams the moon on Arthur's mighty crest,
That dweller in the air abrupt and lone;
Hnsh'd is Edina in her nightly rest,
But hark! there comes a sweet and solemn tone,
The lingering strains that welled in ages gone.
The mind of Sir Patrick Gray was oppressed by vague
doubts and apprehensions of—he knew not what. That
the earl and countess were colder to him than when
last they met he was painfully conscious by their
absurdly haughty bearing, by the increased timidity of
Murielle, and the undisguished petulance of her kinsman,
perhaps her lover, the young Lord David.
Gray's love for Murielle was now no secret to the
THE ABBOT'S HOUSE.
31
earl's powerful family, but being a poor younger son of
the baron of Foulis, it was, as he bitterly knew, a matter
of jest among the Douglases; for his whole inheritance
were his sword and spurs, which he had won at the
battle of Piperden, where the English, under Henry,
earl of Northumberland, were defeated by the Scots
under "William Douglas, earl of Angus.
Moreover, Sir Patrick, by education, habit, and
thought, was a staunch and loyal adherent of the young
king, James II., as he had been of his father, who was so
barbarously murdered at Perth; and thus, inspired by
love and doubt, hope and fear, presuming upon the
friendship of the abbot of Tongland, with whom he could
" count kindred," through the MacLellans of Bombie,
he presented himself at his mansion in the dusk, and was
immediately ushered into the hall, or chamber of dais,
where, as supper was over, a brilliant group, or rather
several groups, were assembled.
The house of the abbot of Tongland (a wealthy
monastery on the banks of the Dee, founded during the
reign of David I., by Fergus, lord of Galloway, on his
wedding the daughter of Henry, king of England,) was a
quaint edifice, one portion of which had crowstepped gables,,
and the other a battlement with singularly grotesque gur-
goils, through the gaping mouths of which the rain had
been disgorged upon the passers-by for centuries. An arch
and great oak gate, furnished with a giant risp or tirling-
pin of iron, guarded by six loopholes of warlike aspect,,
gave access to the house and its gardens, which sloped
south towards the craigs of Salisbury.
The usual quiet and seclusion of the abbot's mansion
were changed on this night for bustle, noise, and light
a crowd of pages, grooms, lacqueys, and armed men led
32
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GfUAKD.
saddled horses to and fro, or loitered about the entrance,
while flakes of ruddy light fell through the deep win-
dows of the chamber of dais upon the green shrubbery
and the few flowers which still lingered since the last
days of autumn.
This chamber was a veritable hall, such as might have
graced a baron's castle. It had many niches or ambres
of carved stone, a vast gothie fireplace, to the clustered
pillars of which the fire-irons were chained in the old
Scottish fashion, to prevent their being too readily used
in brawls, and on the lintel was inscribed, in antique
letters, the legend,—
Eau5 rt fjonor 23eo.
On the hearth a fire of coal and oak-roots from the
Figgate-muir was blazing cheerily.
In this chamber, the lordly abbot had feasted four years
before the papal legate, HCneas Sylvius Piccolomini, bishop
of Trieste, afterwards Pope Pius II., and it was on that
occasion that the latter so wittily remarked, with an
irreverent wink to the abbot of Melrose, " that if there
was a great reason for prohibiting the marriage of priests,
there was a much greater for permitting it."
The doors were oak carved with legends and mono-
grams; the floor also was of oak, roughly dressed with
the hatchet and secured with broad-headed nails, all the
bright heads of which were visible, as it was not carpetted,
but only strewn with fresh rushes from the Hunter's Bog.
The walls were comfortably wainscotted up to where the
vaulted roof rose in the form of an arch, and there the
stone-work was covered by distorted figures, representing
old legends connected with the abbey of Tongland.
The sleek and portly abbot was seated near the fire in
THE ABBOT'S HOUSE.
33
a lofty chair, the hack of which bore a carved mitre, and
he was conversing easily and pleasantly with all his
guests in turn, for he was a benign and aimable old prelate
with a bald head, a rubicund and somewhat unmeaning
visage, and twinkling eyes half hidden by wrinkles and
fat.
Two chairs of state opposite were occupied by the earl
and countess of Douglas. On tabourettes near them were
seated Murielle and a group of ladies. Several gentlemen
all richly dressed were loitering near them, for they were
conversing gaily and variously employed—at chess, or the
game of Troy; and on the silks, velvets, jewels, and cloth
of gold and silver, of which their costumes were composed,
the glow of the fire fell brightly, together with the light
of twenty great candles, which flared in sconces of brass
hung round the walls on tenter-hooks.
The stomacher of the countess-duchess was entirely
covered with native pearls, for those found in the Scot-
tish streams were held to be of great value. Among the
costly jewels lost by Henry V., when his camp was plun-
dered at Agincourt, Rymer mentions una perula Scotice ;
and only a few years before the date of our story, James I
presented to iEneas Sylvius, the Roman legate, one, which
is now in the papal crown.
Before her sweet face, pretty Murielle was manoeuvring
her fan, quite as skilfully as any of her countrywomen might
do at the present day; and through the sticks of it, her
merry and soft violet eyes peeped from time to time at a
handsome and soldier-like man, who wore a crimson
velvet pourpoint, with a steel gorget, a gold belt, and
hanging sleeves of yellow silk. He was Sir Patrick Gray,
the captain of the guard. While talking gravely of "the
growing heresies of John Huss and Paul Crawer," he
«
34 THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUAfll).
seemed to be entirely occupied with the countess of
Ormond, before whom he knelt on one knee, and for
whom he was winding and unwinding several balls of
brightly coloured silk and golden thread, which she was
using while embroidering a missal cover, for the ladies of
those days were never idle ; but in his abstraction, or
pre-occupation with Murielle, he made many a provoking
knot, which the little white fingers of the loveiy countess
required all their cunning to unravel.
Tfis love for Murielle had brought him hither uninvited;
and he felt (like his kinsman, MacLellan) that he was
among the enemies of the king his master, and of the
government; while the coldness with which the boy-noble
and the girl-countess treated him filled his heart with
sorrow and anger.
The scraps of conversation he heard all savoured of
hostility to James and to his ministers, with dark hints
of daring and ulterior political projects, as yet unde-
veloped and apparently obscure.
He was aware that Earl James of Abercorn, Earl Hugh
of Ormond, Sir Malcolm Fleming, Sir Alan Lauder, and
other kinsmen of the Douglases viewed him with undis-
guised aversion; and while he continued to play with the
balls of thread, and utter pleasant commonplaces to the
ladies near, those four personages were standing aloof in
a corner, leaning on their swords, which were somewhere
about five feet long, "nursing their wrath to keep it
warm," and wishing they had the captain of the king's
guard on a solitary hill-side, or even in the street without.
"And this Livingstone—I beg pardon, Sir Alex-
ander Livingstone, Laird of Callender—a mere baron," he
heard the earl of Douglas say to the abbot; " by what
warrant or right is such a man as he regent of the realm 2"
THE ABBOT'S HOUSE.
35
" I have heard your noble father ask the same question
often, with the same tone—ay, and with the same som-
bre gloom in his eye, my lord," replied the abbot evasively.
"Well—know you by what right?" reiterated the
young noble bitterly, giving vent to the hatred his dead
father had carefully and unceasingly inspired and fos-
tered.
" Is it ^hereditary % " asked the abbot gently.
" Assuredly not."
" Then how came Livingstone to have the regency ?"
" 'Twas given by parliament and the nation."
" Hence his right," said the abbot, smiling at obtaining
the very reply he wished ; but the petulant young earl
rasped the rowels of his gold spurs furiously on the hearth,
for these quiet answers from the " keeper of his conscience "
galled and fretted him.
" Well, the time is come for the nobles, the barons, and
others to reconsider that too-hastily given right," said
the countess; " for what is he, or what is this Lord
Chancellor, that earls and chiefs are to veil their bonnets
in their presence ?"
The abbot, who dreaded the violence of the young
countess more than the temper of her husband (who was
not exactly a lamb), was prudently silent; but she was
determined to force an answer from him, and said bluntly,
" Speak, abbot, you are silent!"
" Pardon me, lady, I was thinking of Plutarch. Know
you what he said ?"
" How should I know, Lord Abbot," said Margaret,
while her black eyes sparkled with annoyance ; " was he
a heretic like Paul Crawer, or a magician like Michael
Scott, with an urchin or prickly hedgehog for a familiar?"
" Why ask you all this ?"
n <2
36
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUAED.
" Because the name sounds cabalistic to a Scottish ear,"
said Margaret, crossing and fanning herself.
" He was a scholar—and yet an unfortunate pagan, for
he knew not of St. Nicholas, the patron of scholars."
" But what said he ?"
"That 'love and haired corrupt the truth of everything,'
and he thought profoundly, madam, for verily they do.
Yet if our holy father at Home will but listen to my
prayer, ere long hatred and evil shall exist on earth no
more; but all men shall live and die in peace and good-
will one with another—even unto the end of time."
The young earl smiled disdainfully, and relapsed into
gloomy silence, for he knew that his father confessor re-
ferred to a strange project which he had long cherished,
and concerning which he had seriously pestered the
late Boman Legate, HCneas Sylvius—that the Pope
Eugene IV., as head of the Church and " vicegerent of
heaven upon earth," would intercede for the fallen angel,
to have him forgiven and received once more into divine
favour, to the sublime end that all evil in the world
would henceforth cease ; for the good old clergyman, in
his largeness of heart, like his poetic countryman in after
years, felt that he could even forgive the devil, when he
thought
Aurd Nickey Ken,
Maybe yell tak a thocht a'nd mend.
But poor Pope Eugene was too much bothered and
embroiled by the untractable council of Basle, to attend
at that time to the mighty crotchets of the abbot of
Tongland.
" Patience yet awhile, my son," said the benevolent
abbot, crossing to the young earl and caressing his cui'ly
THE ABBOT'S HOUSE.
37
black hair; " when I have the Master of Evil forgiven, and
restored to the place from whence he fell, the lusts of the
flesh will be effectually prevented from warring against
the spirit of grace. Sit nomen Domini benedictum!"
But the earl remained obstinately silent, with his dark
eyes fixed on the fire, as if the gloomy future might be
traced amid its glowing embers.
His kinsman, John of Abercorn, smiled coldly, for by his
secret connivance many said this visit to the court had
been planned ; while the grim and turbulent lairds of
Biggar and the Bass grasped their long swords with an
air that seemed to say, the peaceful and holy days of the
abbot's hopes were yet a long way off, and that the devil
was likely, as he has ever done, to poke his nose for a long
time in Scottish affairs ; but a sad and sombre frown was
in their eyes, for this journey of their chief to Edinburgh
had been undertaken in direct opposition to all their
entreaties, advice, and forebodings.
38
the captain of the guard.
CHAPTER VI.
mukielle.
Sweet love ! sweet lines ! sweet life!
Here is her hand, the agent of her heart;
Here is her oath for love, her honour's powei ,
Oh that our fathers would applaud our loves,
To seal our happiness with their consents.
Two Gentlemen of Verona.
An hour passed without Gray finding an opportunity
for addressing more than the merest commonplaces to
Murielle, yet his mind, even when conversing with others,
was so full of her image, that the very rustle of her dress
made his heart beat quicker; and he could see her form,
face, and expression as distinctly as he heard her voice in
fancy for ever, when she was absent; and the ribbon she
had taken from her breast, and given him to wear in his
bonnet, was a gift more prized than a royal crown.
Their eyes were eloquent although their tongues were
mute, for " their natures had so gradually blended into
each other that, like two tints of the rainbow, the lines
between them would soon become so extinct, that a se-
paration would be the destruction of both."
But the Countess Margaret had a secret grudge at our
captain of the guard, and it arose from this circumstance.
Prior to her marriage, and almost from her childhood,
she had been a practised coquette, who had won many a
brave and noble beart with a facility which her rank in-
creased—but won only to cast them from her when tired
of them, as she had done her dolls and toys when a girl,
or her jewels, dresses, flowers, and baubles in riper years.
MUKIELLE.
39
They had served to beguile a day, a week, a month, those
human playthings, and that was all she cared for.
Sir Patrick Gray had proved rebelliously insensible to
her beauty of form, her gaiety, and brilliance of conversa-
tion, for he loved little Murielle, and hence the more
gorgeous Margaret had an additional cause to treasure a
pique at him; and having other views regarding her
sister, she now, in revenge, permitted him to fan his love
with hope, ere it would be crushed for ever, by her
marriage to one as yet unnamed. Hence the malicious
smile, which curled her beautiful lip, as she looked at
them from time to time, on the night we are describing.
Gray and MacLellan confessed to each other that two
sisters more charming could scarcely be met.
Murielle's face was pale, her features were delicate,
and her eyes of that deep hue, alternating between hazel
and violet, which seemed black at night. Her hands and
arms were lovely in their form and delicacy.
Then Margaret was so stately and queen-like, pure and
cold as marble, save when excited (which was not unfre-
quent), distant and proudly reserved at one time—full of
fire and passion at another. Tall and beautifully formed,
her hair and eyes were of the deepest jet, to which the
purity of her complexion formed a singular contrast;
while a softness was imparted at times to her otherwise
haughty expression by her long and thick eye-lashes,
which she could drop with the most skilful coquetry.
The face and eyes of Murielle, though less striking, had
a strange charm, as they brightened, deepened, and seemed
to grow in beauty, one knew not why or how; but it was
the indescribable charm of expression.
The old abbot, finding his efforts to amuse his fiery and
feudal friends a somewhat arduous task (as they were all
40
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
inspired by jealous, ambitious, or angry thoughts), camb
in. despair to Murielle, who was his favourite, and who
loved him as a daughter would have done.
" Your harp is here; sing us something, my lady
daughter," said he j "a song of our wild Galloway hills—
or a Lowland ballad, if you prefer it; but do so, I pray
you, for clouds are gathering in your kinsmen's faces, and
I know that your sweet voice can best dispel them."
Murielle assented with a kind smile, and in a moment,
Gray, anticipating Lord David Douglas, handed the harp
to her, and in doing so, contrived, quick as lightning, to
touch and press her hand, which made her colour slightly,
as she bent over the instrument, and ran her rapid little
fingers among the strings.
It was a clairsach, or harp of the old Scottish form,
being only thirty inches or so in height, and furnished
with thirty string holes. In front of the upper arm was
the crowned heart (the Douglas cognisance), formed of
precious stones, and surrounded by minute inlaying of
mother-of-pearl.
" I thank you, child, for your readiness," said the abbot,
patting her pretty shoulder, " and in my turn, though I
may not sing now at my years, I shall tell you a legend of
the olden time, which was told me by an aged monk of
Tongland, now asleep with his fathers in the abbey kirk-
yard."
" A bribe, my lord, to make me hasten with my song,"
said Murielle, smiling in the old man's face.
" And to make it as brief as possible," added the iin-
patient Margaret.
" Say not so, countess," said the abbot, " we will not
tire readily of Lady Murielle's voice."
A churchman turned a gallant in his old age !"
MURIELLE.
41
' Your sister is fortunate, lady, in tlie best gifts of
heaven," continued the abbot, "and must have been
born—"
" Under a fortunate star, you would say ?"
"Yes, countess, if such things exist."
" Nay," said Murielle, laughing, " I had a kind fairy
for a godmother, like the good princesses of the old
romance."
Then in the chaunting cadence adopted by the singers
of those days, she sang the four-and-thirty verses of the
old ballad of " Sir Hugh le Blonde," a knight of the
Mearns—but with these we will not inflict the reader.
It told of how the subtile Bodinghame made love to a
fair coquette, who was queen of Scotland; and how, when
she repelled him, in revenge he put a leper man in her
bower chamber. Then came the proud and jealous king,
who, on finding him in such a place, ordered the queen to
be burned at a stake, unless she could find a champion to
do battle with Bodinghame, her traducer, but such was
the terror of his prowess that none appeared ; the day of
doom came ; the hapless queen was bound to a stake, and
the torch was about to be applied, when Sir Hugh le
Blonde, in his armour, sprang forward, and lifted the
gage of Bodinghame.
They fought long and desperately, but Sir Hugh slew
the accuser, after forcing him to confess his treachery.
Thus the queen was restored once more to favour and
honour, to the joy of her husband and all his court.
In gratitude to her preserver,
Then said the queen unto the king,
" Arbuthnot's near the sea ;
Oh yield it to the northern knight
Who fought this day for me !"
42 THE CAPTAlit OF THE GUARD.
"Yes," said our king, "and thou, Sir Knight,
Come, quaff this cann of wine ;
Arbuthnot's but a baronie,
We'll to it Fordoun join."
Thus the descendants of Sir Hugh became lords 01
Arbuthnot and Fordoun; the sword with which he
defended the queen was long preserved by the viscounts
of his family, and his helmet was hung in the church of
Garvoch, which, in 1282, he bestowed upon the monks
of Arbroath for the safety of his soul, and in memory of
his victory.
"How like you the song?" asked Abercorn of the
countess.
" Well," she replied, with a dark smile; " because
it acts as bird-lime."
" Bird-lime," said he, with a perplexed smile; "how ?"
" For the king's popinjay," replied the countess,
waving her fan towards Sir Patrick Gray; but the
ballad was suited to the fashion and spirit of the age, and
as Murielle's voice was soft and low, it mingled sweetly
with the rippling notes of her little harp.
In the olden time, by ballads and stories the nights
were usually passed before bed-time; and thus, after
some well-bred compliments had been uttered on her
performance, Murielle relinquished her harp to Sir
Patrick (who achieved one more pressure of a pretty
hand), and turned to claim from her venerable Mend
the fulfilment of his promise.
" My story," said the abbot, smoothing his cassock
over his ample paunch, " relates to a time when the Spirit
of Evil, he whom I hope to turn one day to a spirit of
goodness and purity (here the earl gave a sigh of
impatience), had more power in the land even than he
MUKIELLE.
43
hath now. Yet he was conquered and put to flight
by our blessed apostle St. Andrew; and now I shall
proceed to show you how the cross on which the latter
was martyred became the symbol of the Scottish nation,
and why it has been borne on our breasts and on our
banners in many a righteous battle."
"'Tis well, Lord Abbot," said Earl James the Gross,
bluntly; " I like your ending better than your begin-
ning, which savoured somewhat of a sermon, and the
night waxes apace."
Then the abbot related the following miraculous story,
which we give more correctly than it will be found in
the Bollandists, in the " History of the Blessed Begulus,"
which was written at St. Andrew's in 1140, in the
" Golden Legend," or even in the old Gothic " Legenda
Sanctorum, post Longobardicam Historiam," because we
had it from the writings of the abbot himself.
the captain of the guard.
CHAPTER VII.
tiie legend of st. andrew's cross.
Some seek the Edens of the east,
Some Carrib isles explore ;
The forests of the far-off west,
And Afric's savage shore.
Still charms of native speech and spot,
And native springs for aye,
Will band like brothers Scot with Scot
Upon St. Andrew's day!—Scottish Song.
In the year 370, St. Regulus, or Rule, a holy Greek
monk, who dwelt in Petrsea, a city of Achaia, and who
had preserved in secret the reliques of St. Andrew the
apostle and martyr, was strangely warned by a vision,
which was repeated three nights in succession, to secure
them from the Emperor Constantius, who was coming to
deprive him of his charge, and Regulus was commanded
to take them elsewhere.
A deep and melodious voice, that seemed to come
from afar, desired him to go to the shrine wrherein the
reliques lay, to take therefrom an arm, three fingers
of the right hand, a tooth, and a kneebone; these he
was carefully to preserve, and to convey into a distant
land in the west, " a region situated in the uttermost part
of the world."
After the third vision St. Regulus obeyed.
He placed the reliques in a box, and embarked in a
small ship, taking with him Damianus a priest, and
Gelasius and Tubaculus, two deacons, eight hermits, and
three devoted virgins.
After great toil and suffering, and after encountering
THE LEGEND OF ST. ANDREW'S CROSS.
45
many storms, they passed Melita, where, as the Scripture
tells us, St. Paul had been of old, thence between the
Pillars of Hercules, along the coasts of Gaul and Celt-
iberia; and, after traversing the sea of Almainie, were
cast on a bleak and rocky promontary of Caledonia, near
where now the spires of the fair and stately city of
St. Andrew form a landmark to the mariner.
Then the coast was wild and desolate, and was named
by the painted Picts, who dwelt there, Muick-rhos, or
" peninsula of fierce boars."
"Wild woods, pathless and dense, covered it, and a
stormy sea beat drearily on its rocky shore.
But these pilgrims having now reached, as they
thought, " the uttermost part of the world," built their
cells, and- began to preach and baptize, uniting their
labours with those who had landed elsewhere on Scottish
ground, and so, in the fulness of time, that peninsula
became a bishopric.
In the beginning of the ninth century, Adrian, a holy
man, became first bishop of this see of St. Andrews,
where in days, then long passed away, St. Regulus
and his kuldees had founded a cell dedicated to the Holy
Virgin, about a bowshot westward from the shore, upon
a sea-weedy rock named unto this day, Our Lady's
Craig. But no vestige of the edifice remains, and the
wild waves of the German Sea sweep over it with every
rising tide.
There, in his own chapel, did St. Begulus serve God
devoutly for two-and-thirty years, and there also died
Constantine III., King of Scotland, after spending the
last five years of his life as a kuldee of Kirkrule, for so
tho place was also named.
In those, the days of Adrian, Hungus, the Pictish
46
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
king, granted to God and St. Andrew that the place where
the bones of the latter lay " should be the mother church
of all the churches in his kingdom," which comprehended
the entire Lowlands of Scotland, and much of what is
now called England. He laid, in proof of his gift, a
turf of the ceded territory upon the high altar, and it
was the first instance of the symbolical transfer of land
by enfoffment in Scotland.
Adrian, the bishop, was a man full of goodness and
holiness ; none excelled him in devotion to St. Andrew,
and when not preaching to the people, he usually
secluded himself on the little Isle of May, at the mouth
of the Forth, and there he always spent the forty days
of Lent, living on herbs, pure water, and fish, which he
caught from the rocks overhanging the sea.
There he said so many prayers daily, that when he
had attained his fortieth year without having committed
a single sin, the devil spitefully resolved to work him
some mischief, if such were possible; but the entire isle
whereon he dwelt had become as it were so holy, that all
the powers of hell could not prevail against him.
Ere long the fallen angel had an opportunity, when
fires were lighted on the hills of Fife and Lothian, sum-
moning the people to arms, when, in the year 870,
Athelstan, king of the western Saxons, a savage warrior,
who had cloven the head of his father by a single stroke
of his sword, and had committed many other inhuman
atrocities, but to whom Alfred the Great had ceded the
territory of Northumberland, marched northward with a
mighty host of barbarians, intent on conquest.
Athelstan had placed his dagger on the altar of St.
John of Beverley, as a pledge that if he conquered in the
north he would enrich that church, in testimony of his
THE LEGEND OP ST. ANDREW'S CROSS. 47
belief in the saint's patronage; and so, after laying
waste the southern portion of the Pictish territories, he
halted on the banks of the Tyne, near Haddington.
After long vigils in the Ocean cave, where the humble
and rude altar of St. Regulus is still to be seen, the holy
Adrian joined the host of King Hungus, which num-
bered thirty thousand warriors, a thousand of whom
wore torques of beaten gold. He came to add the
influence of his presence, and by his prayers and
ministry to propitiate heaven that these yellow-haired
invaders might be repelled.
By a blow of the same sword with which he slew his
father, Athelstan cleft a rock near the castle of Dunbar,
as a symbol that he would conquer all the northern land;
the mark, a yard in width, remains there to this day,
and was oddly enough referred to by Edward I. before Pope
Boniface, as his best claim to the kingdom of Scotland !
For aid, Hungus applied to Achaius, king of the
Scots, who sent his son Alpine with ten thousand
warriors, to assist in repelling the dangerous iix
vaders who had now possessed themselves of all South
Britain, and founded the petty kingdoms of the Hep.
tarchy; and thus, on the 29th of November, the eve
before St. Andrew's day, the three armies came in sight
of each other, on the banks of a little stream which
flows through a narrow, deep, and stony vale, near the
pastoral hills of Dirlton.
There, on the eastern slope of these hills, Adrian, the
bishop, set up an altar, and said mass solemnly, with
supplications for victory, while the wild bands of King
Hungus, and the wilder warriors who came from the
western mountains of the Dalriadic Scots; all clad in
hauberks and byrnes of ringed mail, were hushed in
48
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
prayer, as they knelt with bare knees on their bucklers
or on the green sward, bowing all their helmeted heads
when Adrian stretched forth his hand and blessed them
in the name of his master who was in heaven.
So night closed in, and, worn with toil, the bishop
retired from the tumultuary camp to a lonely house which
was near, and there sought repose.
And now the master of evil thought his time was
come to attempt the good man's downfall.
Assuming the form of a beautiful woman, he appeared
at the house of St. Adrian, and sent in a messenger,
saying, " there was one without who desired to make
confession."
St. Adrian, who was at supper, sent one of the little
boys who served at his altar to say that " Killach, the
Penitencer, would hear her, having full power from him-
self to hear all confessions, to loose, or to bind."
But, although Killach was a man of great sanctity,
who afterwards succeeded Adrian in his see, she said
loudly that she would reveal the secrets of her soul to
none but his master.
St. Adrian therefore desired her to be admitted.
On entering she, for so we must style the spirit for
the time, fell at his feet, and on being blessed by him
trembled in her guilty soul; but, on raising her veil,
Adrian could not repress an exclamation of surprise at
her marvellous beauty. Her skin had the purity of
snow, her eyes were of the deepest blue, and shaded by
long dark lashes, though her hair was of a wondrously
bright golden tint, and glittered like a halo round her
head. Her face and form were faultless, her stature tall,
and her motions full of grace.
" Whence come you, daughter ?" asked the saint.
Til 12 iiEGJSND OF ST. ANDREW'S CROSS. 49
" From the land of the western Saxons," replied the
spirit, in an accent that was very alluring.
"And who are you ?"
"lam the daughter of Athelstan," she continued,
weeping.
" Of Athelstan the wicked king !"
" Yes," and she bent her lovely face upon her hands.
" He whose host we are to combat on the morrow ?"
continued the saint with growing surprise.
" The same."
" How and why came you to me ?"
" He proposes to bestow me in marriage upon one of
his chiefs, who is a Pagan ; but I have devoted myself
to the service of Heaven, and, escaping from his camp in
secret, have cast myself upon you, as a man of holiness
and of God, to succour and to protect me against the
evils and perils of the world."
She wept bitterly, and as she seemed faint and almost
famished, the kind bishop led her to a seat, and pressed
her to join him in his frugal supper, to take food and
refreshment, and thereafter repose.
Then the evil spirit, perceiving the advantages so
rapidly won, cast aside her head-gear, and appeared only
in the long flowing weed of a Saxon woman, with loose
sleeves, which revealed the singular whiteness of her
arms and bosom; and, as supper proceeded, and the
conversation became animated, she clasped again and
again to her beating heart and her warm lips the
wrinkled hand of St. Adrian with a fondness which,
with the growing splendour of her beauty, bewildered
him ; Adrian became troubled, he knew not why, his
soul seemed to tremble within him in unison with the
heart that beat in the snowy bosom beneath his fingers,
60
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GruARlX
and he prayed inwardly to God and to St. Andrew, his
patron, against this new temptation, but apparently
without avail.
He had a silver cup, the gift of King Hungus, and
each time, say the legendaries, he signed the cross above
it, red wine of Cyprus filled it to the brim, but of this
miraculous cup his fair guest declined to drink, affirming
that she " preferred pure water."
Incited by her, the saint filled and emptied his cup
more frequently than was his wont; till, dazzled alike
by her beauty, which seemed strangely to increase in
radiance, her wit and helplessness, he felt as if madness
were coming over him, for his inward prayers availed
him nothing, and ere long he seemed to lose the power of'
remembering them.
Suddenly a loud knock rang on the door of the house,
and Killach,the Penitencer, came hastily to announce that
an aged pilgrim, who had come from afar, desired to speak
with the bishop of St. Andrew's.
" How far hath he come?" asked the lady, laughing.
" Prom Bethsaida, a village by the sea of Galilee, where
he and his brother Peter were fishermen."
On hearing the birth-place of the apostles named, the
evil spirit trembled; but the bewildered bishop said, while
turning to his beautiful guest—" Tell the palmer I shall
see him at some other time; after so long a journey he
must need rest."
But again the pilgrim knocked and became more im-
portunate ; then Adrian, fired by the wine he had taken,
and dazzled by the beauty at his side, seemed to lose
alike his charity and humility amid the snares of the
devil, for he commanded the insolent pilgrim to be cast
forth upon the highway.
THE LEGEND OP ST. ANDREW'S CROSS.
51
" Nay, nay," said the golden-haired damsel, running
her white fingers through his snowy beard, "let us
amuse ourselves with him, for these palmers are quaint
fellows."
" Is it your pleasure, fair'lady," said Adrian, taking her
hand in his, " that I should permit him to interrupt
us ?"
" No—but let us jest with him ; for I know well that
these palm-bearing pilgrims are sad rogues at times. Ask
him some puzzling questions, and if he answers them,
admit him."
" Agreed," said the bishop, draining another goblet, ,
and as her laughter seemed very infectious, he joined her
in a peal of such merriment, that old Killach, the Peni-
tencer, trembled in his cassock; "propose a question,
sweet lady, for you surpass all in wit as well as in
beauty."
" Inquire of him what is the greatest marvel in the
smallest space made by God."
Killach went forth and propounded this strange
question.
" The faces of mankind and the leaves of the trees ;
for no two of either are alike in the world," replied the
poor pilgrim, who stood, without the door of the chamber,
bending wearily on a knotted staff, and shivering in the
night air, though clad in a long blackweed, his cowl
hung over his eyes and his white beard flowed over his
breast.
" A fair response," replied the beautiful lady, gaily,
caressing more tenderly the bishop's hand with her vel-
vet-like fingers, while her bright eyes beamed into his,
and the night currents blew her perfumed hair across his
face ; " pray ask him next, what is higher than heaven."
52
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
6 He who made it," replied the pilgrim, bowing low.
Then the evil spirit trembled, but again asked merrily:
" What is the distance from heaven to the base of the
bottomless pit ?"
" Ask that question of thyself, who hast measured the
distance to the full, which I never did—thou accursed spi-
rit!" replied the pilgrim furiously, beating thrice on the door
with his staff, whereupon, with a shrill shriek, the Devil
vanished from the side of the terrified bishop ; but his
conqueror remained for a time unmoved, and then quietly
disappeared, seeming to melt away before the eyes of
those who saw him.
Then Adrian fell upon his knees and returned thanks
to heaven, and to his patron, St. Andrew, for escaping
this last and most subtle snare of the evil one.
But now he found that the morning was far advanced;
that already the combined armies of the Northern kings
were meeting the hordes of Athelstan in the shock of
battle; and so the sainted bishop came forth with a
more than usually humble and contrite heart, and, at-
tended by his crossbearer and followers, ascended an
eminence in view of the field, and then he knelt down to
pray for victory over the Saxons.
There in the hollow, through which the Peffer flowed
among groves of oak towards the sea, the roar of battle
rang—the tumultuous shouts and yells of triumph or
agony, as Scot and Pict, or the yellow-haired Saxon, closed
in mortal strife ; the twanging of bows, the trampling of
horses, the clash of axes, swords, and maces swung on
•tinging bucklers ; or, as the ghisarma of the Saxon, the
iong tuagh of the Celt, clove hauberk of rings, or helmet
of steel; and amid the carnage, wherever death and
slaughter were deepest, rode the royal parricide, the
THE LEGEND OF ST. ANDREW'S CROSS. 53
terrible Athelstan; " of earls the lord, of heroes the
bracelet giver," as the harpers who sang his praises styled
him ; but he was fated never again to hear their adulous
strains, or see his wooden halls of Jorvik, or York as it
is named now.
Despite the valour of King Hungus and his auxiliaries,
the Saxons, among whom were many thousand southern
Britons, forced to military service and slavery, were gra-
dually gaining the victory, and the Scots and Picts were
giving way, when lo !
Across the eastern quarter of the blue firmament there
suddenly came a thunder cloud, the hues of which alter-
nated between deep black and brilliant purple, though its
ragged borders gleamed with golden tints. Lightning
was seen to flash behind it, while hoarse thunder hurtled
athwart the noon-day sky, and sank growling into the
*stuary of the Forth, beyond the Isle of May.
Then the cloud opened, and amid a blaze of such light
as that which dazzled Saul on his way to Damascus,
there shone above the Scottish host, with an effulgence
that made their serried helmets outshine the rays of the
sun, the figure of St. Andrew the Apostle, on his cross,
the two trees tied like the letter X, to which he had.
been bound, when scourged to death at Petrsea, in
Achaia.
Then St. Adrian lifted up his eyes, and knew in him
the pilgrim of the blackweed ; the same stranger who
on the preceding night had saved him from the snares of
the evil one, and falling on his knees, he bowed his silver
hairs in the dust.
When he looked again, cloud, figure, and cross had
passed away; but inspired by this miraculous omen of
victory, the Scots and Picts rushed with new vigour on
54
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
the Saxons, who were soon defeated, and with dreadful
slaughter.
. Athelstan was unhorsed by King Hungus, who slew
him on the north bank of the Peffer, at a place named
unto this day Athelstansford. The Picts buried him on
the field; but his head was borne upon a spear to an
islet of the Porth, where it was fixed for a time, and the
place was long named, from that circumstance, Ardchin-
nichun, or " the head of the highest."*
From that day St. Andrew became the patron of the
Scots and Picts, who put his cross upon their banners,
and the badges of the former, the thistle, and of the
latter, the rue, were interwoven in the collar of the
Knights of the most Ancient Order of the Thistle, insti-
tuted in honour of this Victory; and in memory of the
apostles their number is restricted to the reigning
sovereign and twelve companions.
Upon the cathedral of St. Andrew, Hungus bestowed
" a case of gold for preserving the reliques of the saint,
many chalices and basons, the image of Christ in gold,
and those of the apostles in silver," and the bishop Adrian
toiled more than ever in the service of God and his
patron, until the year 882, when some Danish rovers
attacked his hermitage on the Isle of May, and bar-
barously slew him with all his followers.
His coffin, of stone, is still lying there, and the fisher-
* Now Inchgarvie. Athelstan's grave was opened in 1832. His
coffin was composed of five large pieces of freestone, and his bones
measured six feet in length. The coffin was thirty inches in breadth,
but only four in depth. The farm of Miracle, corrupted into
tnarTcle, indicates where the vision is said to have appeared ; and,
with the adjacent lands, it was assigned to the culdees of St.
Andrew's in gratitude for the victory.
I love you.
55
men of the Forth aver that at times a "wondrous light
shines from it. He passed away in the odour of sanctity,
and Killach the Penitencer succeeded him as second
bishop of the see.
Such is the legend of the cross of St. Andrew, and
how it became the cognizance of the Scottish nation.
CHAPTER VIII.
i love you.
I do not seek to quench your love's hot fire,'
But qualify the fire's extreme rage,
Lest it should burn above the bounds of reason.
Shakespeabbl
By the time when the garrulous old abbot had con-
eluded his story the night was far advanced. The lights
in the sconces and the fire had burned low, while the
ladies looked pale and weary, and all who were not in
immediate attendance upon the earl and countess of
Douglas, prepared to seek their habitations in the city.
As these were paying their several adieux, Sir Patrick
Gray came close to Murielle, and tenderly pressed her
hand; but she gazed upon him with a sad and foreboding
expression.
" Courage, Murielle, courage ! " he whispered ; " with
strength and bravery on my side, with equal love and
goodness on yours, our mutual stedfast faith and hope,
we may yet overcome everything."
" Even the prejudices of my sister ?"
" Ay, even the hatred, for such it is, of your sister,—
the sombre pride and wrath of that fierce boy her
husband."
56
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
" Oh, that it may be so !" she whispered, breathlessly ;
" but there are times when I have strange fears."
"Murielle, tide what may, remember that while life
lasts I love you ! "
All they could desire to say was comprised in these
three very little words. Little they are, yet how much
do they contain ! The essence of all the love speeches,
love-letters, and sonnets that have been written since the
invention of letters,—since Cadmus brought his alphabet
from Phoenicia into Greece. When two lovers have said
these words they can only repeat them.
" I love you I" They have nothing more to say. The
countess, ever watchful, had observed this brief confer-
ence, and though anger sparkled in her deep, dark eyes, she
veiled it under a bright smile, and, closing her fan, gave
her pretty hand to Gray, who bowed and kissed it, though
the petulant earl coldly turned from him, saying :—
" Sir Patrick, fare you well until to-morrow."
" Until to-morrow" added the earl of Abercorn, with
one of the strange smiles which curled his thin white lips
at times, as Gray and Mac Lellan retired together, after
gaining golden opinions in the ranks of the enemy,—to
wit, the ladies of the hostile faction.
The young Captain of the Guard had the art of pleas-
ing all—the ladies especially ; and at such a time, when
family feuds, pride, and hatred, were rampant passions,
the art was one of no small value, though in Scotland few
cared to cultivate it, for chivalry was already on the
decline.
In society such as that in which we introduce him to
the reader, he contrived to be, or appeared to be, friendly
with those who were most averse to each other in politics
and ambition ; yet he neither condescended to flatter nor
I LOVE YOU.
57
dissemble, but often was prudently silent, where to differ
would have brought swords from their scabbards ; and he
assented with grace and pleasure wherever he could do so
with honour.
By this system, acquired amid the dark intrigues of a
turbulent court, rather than in the camp, Sir Patrick
Gray was a general favourite, especially of the young king,
who was then, as before-mentioned, in his eleventh year,
and whose preceptor he became, in all military exercises
and the sports of the field. Gray had natural tact, a
knowledge of the then limited world, and the great art of
occasionally conquering himself.
Murielle was the stake he played for, and he never lost
sight of her.
The moon had waned, and not a star was visible in the
dark November sky, as he and Mac Lellan proceeded
through the gloomy city towards the fortress.
" A moonless night, but a fine one," said Gray, wrapping
his velvet cloak about him.
" For shooting bats or owls," added Mac Lellan, as he
stumbled over the rough and unpaved street. " Ay,
and a night to try men's mettle if there be witches
abroad."
"Soho!" said Gray, gaily; "we have left the most
perilous witches behind us, with old Abbot John, of
Tongland; but assuredly one is safer in a gaberlunzie's
canvas gaberdine than a velvet pourpoint to-night, when
so many Douglas troopers and Annandale thieves in
Johnstone grey are abroad; and the sky is so dark that
the devil, were he here, could not see his own tail behind
him."
Unmolested, however, they reached the castle, where
the portcullis was down and all the gates secured; and
58
the captain of the guard.
where the garrison, which was almost entirely composed
of the lord chancellor's vassals, kept watch and ward as
warily as if a foreign army, and not the Douglases, had
been in the sleeping city below.
As they entered a man passed out : he was muffled in
a cloak, with an iron salade on his head—a species of
helmet, which effectually concealed the face, but had a
horizontal slit for the eyes.
Becognizing the voice of Gray, he rubbed his thin hands
together, and smiled maliciously; for this nocturnal
rambler was James Achanna, who had just been deposit-
ing the four coffins in the vault of David's Tower, and
who seemed still to see before him, as the unconscious
lover passed gaily into the fortress, a gilt plate inscribed :
" Murielle Douglas, qui obit 23 Novembris, A D. 1440."
i\ v.oc
CHAPTEB IX.
the twenty-third of november.
Now like a maiden-queen she will behold
To her high turrets hourly suitors come ;
The East with incense and the West with gold,
Shall stand like suppliants to receive her doom.
The silver Forth her own majestic flood
Shall bear her vessels like a sweeping train;
And often wish, as of their mistress proud,
With longing eyes to see her face again.
In sunny beauty, the 23rd of November, 1440, dawned
on the green hills, the old grey city of the Stuarts, and on
the distant sea; and, as the morning advanced, a man,
who by his pale and anxious face seemed to have passed
THE TWENTY-THIRD OF NOVEMBER.
59
a sleepless night, walked slowly to and fro on the paved
bartizan of King David's Tower.
He was Sir William Crichton of that ilk—the
lord chancellor of Scotland—no sinecure office, under
James II.
The first object on which his keen eyes rested, was the
slated roof of the abbot of Tongland's lofty mansion.
There pretty Murielle was doubtless still asleep, and
dreaming perhaps of her lover.
As the time drew slowly, but surely on—the time when
Crichton's terrible project, the destruction of the leading
members of the house of Douglas by a formal yet mock
trial, after luring them from their distant stronghold into
a royal fortress—his soul, though it felt neither remorse
nor wavering, could not fail to be appalled, on a full
contemplation of what might be the sequel to the banquet
of blood, which he and the regent would that day hold in
the great hall of the king's principal castle. To him it
seemed as if the live long night, the wild shriek of
" The owle eke that dethe and bode bringeth,"
(as old Chaucer has it) had rung about the castle rocks,
filling the minds of those who heard it with unpleasant
forebodings—and of this emotion Crichton was especially
sensible.
A civil war might rage around the throne, and by
weakening the nation would lay it open to the aggressive
spirit and ambitious designs of the English, who were
ever wakeful to take advantage of their neighbour's
troubles. Crichton's own power, his old baronial family
and numerous kinsmen, might perish in the contest; but
still the king's authority and the dignity of the crown,
which the over-weening power of the earl of Douglas, and
60
THE CAPTAIN OP THE GUAED.
tlie evil advice of his friends, endangered, would be
secured, and a final blow might be struck at the terrible
Red Heart for ever.
As the chancellor thought of these things, his hands
trembled under his furred robe, and crystal-like beads of
perspiration gathered on his pale and prematurely-fur-
rowed brow ; but the grim preparations had been made,
even to the most [minute particulars. Douglas, with his
formidable train, was already in the capital, and all
parties had gone too far in the desperate game to recede
now; so Crichton pnayed in his heart that the great end
he had in view might sanctify the awful measures he was
about to take ; and, seating himself on a stone bench, he
seemed to sink into reverie—almost prayer—while, turn-
ing to the east, where the sun, through alternate bars of
saffron and dun yet shining clouds, was ascending in all
his morning glory from the sea.
From time to time the pale chancellor glanced at a
piece of green sward called the Butts, where the archers
and the king's guard were wont to shoot, and which was
inclosed by the cordon of towers and walls which girt the
summit of the castle rock.
On that sward a tall lady, wearing a long robe, with
tabard sleeves, and a horned head-dress, which added to
the effect of her great stature, promenaded to and fro,
with her missal and rosary, while watching a little boy,
who was clad in a bright-green velvet pourpoint,
laced with gold, and whose yellow hair glittered in the
morning sunshine, as he alternately tormented and played
with a pretty goshawk, which had silver bells at its
head.
Let us, for a time, suppose ourselves there.
That tall lady is Isabelle Ogilvie, of Auchterhouse,
THE TWENTY-THIRD OF NOVEMBER.
61
wife of Patrick Lord Glammis, master of the royal house-
hold, whose son, Alexander, has married Crichton's
youngest daughter, and her young charge is James II.,
king of Scotland, who laughs with boyish glee as he tosses
and plumes his pet hawk, and, all unwitting of the
dark thoughts which agitate the soul of his faithful but
scheming chancellor, trains it to pounce upon and rend
a lure—a toy like a stuffed bird—which, ever and anon, he
casts into the air with a shout of merriment.
The morning draws on apace ; bells ring in spire
and tower, and the little city below (for, though a capital,
it was a little city then) awakens into general life and
bustle ; but the chancellor still sits there.
Let us look, with him, over the rampart of this great
tower, where his eyes survey a scene so different from
what is there to-day; and yet Arthur's rocky cone, the
hills of Fife, the fertile shores, the sandy bays and green
islets of the Forth, are all unchanged as when the first
Celtic settlers so truly named the great ridge that over-
looks them all, Scealla-bruach Craig, or " the rock of the
beautiful view," now corrupted into Salisbury Craigs.
The month is November.
The last leaves have fallen from the oak woods of
Bristo, of Coates, of Inverleith, and Drumsheugh; but
the voice of the antlered stag," the wild buck bell," is borne
at times on the passing wind that whirls the red leaves
along the grassy hollows.
In the glen below the castle rock lie the royal gardens,
where tournaments are held, and where, in after ages, the
railway train shall send up its shriek to the ear of the
sentinel five hundred feet above. There comes no sound
from it now, save the note of the plover, or amorous coo
of the cushat dove. On the long ridge, where a new city
62
THE CAPTAIN OP THE GUARD.
shall spring in the eighteenth century, the farmers are
finishing their ploughing ; the lowing cattle are in their
yards; the sheep in their pens, and the pigeons are clus-
tering on the dovecots.
Allhallow mass has been said and sung in the great
cruciform church of St. Giles the Abbot, and of St. Cuth-
bert in the pastoral glen below the castle wall; and in
every thatched grange and farmtown, apples have been
duly bobbed for and nuts cracked about the blazing ingle;
and now it is the vigil of St. Catharine.
Turn with me still eastward ; there, the same as ever,
is the backbone of old Edina, the High Street, covering
the long ridge which terminates at the three square
Gothic spires of Holyrood Church — a broad line of
fair stone mansions, as yet undisguised by the quaint
Flemish fronts and timber galleries which came into
fashion about the time of Flodden Field. Southward
descends the narrow Bow, and its tall dwellings, with
their dovecot gables and clusters of smoky chimney-
stacks, many of them bearing the iron cross of the
Temple and St. John, its doorways incrusted with
legends, dates, and coats armorial of races past and gone;
its iron door-risps, with here and there a cloth tied round
them, to show that there was illness, or a woman "in
travail" within.
That grated and fortified edifice which occupies the
centre of the main street is the Prmtorium of Edinburgh
—a rallying point for the citizens in time of war and
tumult; and on its vaults shall arise the grim Tolbooth
of future ages.
The bare-headed and bare-legged children that nestle
on the steps of the cross are stringing necklaces and
rosaries of the red rowan berries (that whilom grew io
THE TWENTY-THIRD OP NOVEMBER. 63
Sfc. Giles's churchyard), to save them from fairies and
elves j and now they all rise in reverence to yonder
cowled friar, who hastens down to see the train of Doug-
las pass from the abbot's house.
That green slope on the south of the great church fa
the burial-ground of St. Giles's :—
" There lie
Those who in ancient days the kingdom ruled,
The councillors of favourites of kings;
High lords, and courtly dames, and valiant chiefs,
Mingling their dust with those of lowest rank
And basest deeds, and now unknown as they."
There sleep the great, the good, the peaceful and the
turbulent, the faithful and the false, all bent together in
their quaint old coffins and flannel shrouds, with money
in their dead hands, and crosses or chalices on their
breasts. Old citizens, who remembered the long-haired
King David, passing forth with barking hound and
twanging horn, in that Rood-day in harvest, which so
nearly cost him his life ; and how the fair Queen Mar-
garet daily fed the poor at the castle-gate, " with the
tenderness of a mother those who had seen Randolph's
patriots scale " the steep, the iron-belted rock,"—Count
Guy of Namur's Flemish lances routed on the Burgh-
muir, and wight Wallace mustering his bearded warriors
at midnight by the Figgate-burn, ere he marched to
storm Dunbar.
That white spot above the gate of the Portsburgh is
the Hfeached skull of Sir Robert Graham, who was the
first to plunge his dagger in the heart of James I. It has
been there since 1436, when those awful tortures took
place before the Roman legate, and filled even him with
horror.
64
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
The lofty old mansion on the south side of the long
street down which we look from the ramparts, is the
residence of the princely abbot of Cambus Kenneth ; the
gilt vanes in the distance are those of a similar edifice
where dwells John Fogo, abbot of Melrose, author of a
work against the heresy of Paul Crawer, who, in 1432,
was sent hither from Bohemia, by John Huss, to preach
the gospel, undeterred by the flames to which Fogo
had consigned Resby, the Englishman, thirty-two years
before.
In the centre of the street are wooden booths, where
the country folks, in their canvas gaberdines and hoods
of hodden grey, or the burgesses in their pourpoints of
good Flemish cloth, may " cheapen " ale at sixteenpence
per gallon ; otherwise, the brewster or tapster shall have
a hole punched in their measures at the market-cross,
where now the women of the adjacent villages and farms
are arranging their baskets of butter and poultry
for sale; and see ! there, at this moment, come the town
officers, with their halberts and helmets, and the common
headsman, in the provost's livery, with a cresset full of
blazing coals. Now a crowd gathers : the halberts flash
as they are swayed to and fro by the pressure of the
people. Then a shriek rises !
They are publicly branding on the cheek a poor
woman, a leper, who has rashly ventured within the
burgh ; though yesterday, by sound of trumpet, at this
same old market-cross, the people of the city, and the
villages called Leith and Broughton, were forbidden to
attend the fairs of Anster and St. Monance, under pain
of pit and gallows, as the plague called the het-sickness,—
the same disease of which Archibald earl of Douglas died
at Restalrig,—rages in Fife-
THE TWENTY-THIRD OF NOVEMBER.
65
If the reader, in fancy, can realize all this, he will see
the quaint old Edinburgh of 1440 clustering on the steep
ridge,—
" Piled deep and massy, close and high
the same city over which the haggard eyes of Crichton
wandered, and through which, preceded by trumpet
and banner, the haughty young lord of Douglas and
Touraine was passing to his—doom !
Edinburgh, a village then in size and opulence, was,
nevertheless, a capital city. Now, when in aspect and
magnitude it is one of the most magnificent in Europe,
by a strange anomaly it is, in reality, when its narrowness
of spirit, in religion, politics, and patriotism are consi-
dered, the most provincial village in her Majesty's
dominions, perhaps in the world.
By the time the trumpets were heard, the sun was at
its zenith, and Crichton, with a shirt of mail under his
velvet pourpoint, came forth to meet the regent in the
court-yard.
Livingstone had assumed a similar steel shirt under his
shortcoat, which was of red damask, laced with silver,
and over which he wore a long flowing gown with open
sleeves, revealing those of his ringed defence, which, being
a man of more open character than his compatriot, he
cared not to conceal, especially in these perilous times.
These two statesmen met, sternly and gravely, without
a smile or bow.
" Is all prepared ?" asked Livingstone of the chancellor,
in a low voice.
" All," was the brief and emphatic reply.
" Your men-at-»"mF
66
THE CAPTAIN OF THE" GUARD.
" I have a hundred concealed in the tiring-room, which
opens off the great hall."
" Only a hundred ! Are you not most rash V
"But they are men whose forefathers for ages have
eaten the bread of mine."
"You, then, deem them stedfast?"
" Stedfast and true as Bippon steel; unyielding as
flint. They are to rush forth under Achanna, when the
signal appears."
"Achanna," said the regent, with contempt; " always
Achanna I know not how it is, but that man makes my
blood to curdle."
" He is a faithful "
" Villain," interrupted the regent, with irritation.
" True—but such villains are useful," said the chancellor
quietly.
" And the signal is the black bull's head j but does
not Achanna dine with us ? "
" Dine !" reiterated the chancellor, with a flashing eye
and a quivering lip. " He will share the banquet at all
events."
" And the four bodies," said Livingstone, gnawing the
ends of his grisly moustache, and looking aside, " how
mean you to dispose of them ?"
" Under that green turf, where even now the king is
playing with his goshawk, they will sleep as soundly as
if below a ton of marble in Melrose Abbey Kirk, among
their lordly kin," replied the chancellor in a low whisper,
and with a ghastly smile j " but hark ! I hear trumpets in
the streets; and here comes Gray, the Captain of the
Guard."
Accoutred as we saw him yesterday, in his plumed
bassinet, with its camaile and chaplet, and his rich mail
THE TWENTY-THIRD OF NOVEMBER.
67
with, its hanging sleeves of scarlet and yellow silk, Sir
Patrick Gray, happily ignorant of the dire preparations
of the two statesmen, and the mine they were about to
spring, made a low bow to each, with some passing remark
on the auspicious beauty of the day—for the weather was
as common a topic in the time of James II. as in that
of his descendant, Queen Victoria.
" A cloud is coming anon, that may darken its close,"
said the regent, thoughtfully.
The Captain of the Guard looked upward, but the sky
was cloudless, then his eye swept the horizon in vain.
" Yea, Sir Patrick," added the chancellor, who is re-
ported to have used the same figurative language, " have
you never observed that there are periods—times of our
existence, when past, present, and future hopes seem to
culminate in one ?"
" Under favour, my lord, I do not comprehend," replied
the puzzled soldier, as he played with the buckle of his
belt, and thought of Murielle Douglas.
" Yes—when we seem to hold them all—the past, the
present, and more especially the future, in our grasp, and
yet may throw them all away. Now dost comprehend ?"
" Do you mean in affairs of love, my lord ?"
" Love !" reiterated the chancellor, scornfully, " nay,
I think but of death" he added in a voice so stern and
hollow that the soldier started, " but ere long you may,
nay you shall know all I mean. Till then, God be wi'
you—adieu."
And with his hands behind his back, and his eyes bent
thoughtfully on the ground, Crichton slowly followed the
regent into David's Tower, while the Captain of the
Guard, bewildered by their strange remarks, hurried t?
join his hundred pikemen, who were drawn up in tv*
f 3
68
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
ranks at the gateway which opened under the Con-
stable's tower.
Sir John Romanno of that ilk, who commanded the
fortress, had now all the king's garrison at their posts,
with bills and crossbows, and the cannoneers by their
guns, with lintstocks lighted.
CHAPTER X.
FOREBODINGS.
She was mounted on a milk-white steed,
And he on a dapple grey ;
And a bugle-horn hung by his side,
When he lightly rode away.
Lord William looked over his right shoulder,
To see what he could see;
And lo her seven bauld brethren
Came riding owre the lee.
The Douglas Tragedie.
" How often is a straw, wafted by the wind, the turn-
ing point in our destiny!" says an author; " a stone
cast into the water causes a ripple on the most distant
shore • so the most trivial event of our lives, after a
thousand ramifications, leads on to some great climax."
When the train of Douglas mounted in the court-yard
of the abbot's house, Sir Malcolm Fleming of Cumber-
nauld came hastily from his chamber, clad in complete
mail, with his helmet open; thus it revealed the pallor of
his face, with the sombre gloom of his dark grey eyes,
frhose restless and wandering expression bore evidence of
a sleepless night.
" How now, Cumbernauld," said the earl of Abercorn,
EOBEBODINGS.
69
fS is this thy dinner-dress—art going to dine with all this
old iron about thee 1"
"Yes—when I dine with enemies."
"Soho, man—go to ! we have no enemies," said the
sneering noble ; " we are all friends now, and must drink
to-night to the extinction of all feuds."
" Do the countess and Lady Murielle go to this ban«
quet V asked the old knight, with a voice rendered husky
by sorrow and surprise, as Margaret and the ladies of her
train came forth with all their gorgeous dresses glittering
in the sunshine.
" Of a surety they do. James Achanna bore them
each a special message from the Lord Regent in the young
King's name ; but what in the name of old Mahoun ails
thee, Sir Malcolm Fleming—art ill ?"
" 111 indeed at heart, lord earl."
" And wherefore 1" asked Earl James, angrily.
"Come this way apart," replied the other, drawing
Abercorn aside from the throng, while his voice and
expression became more sad, his lips more pale, and his
manner more excited. " Listen. Last night I was in my
chamber disrobing for bed ; my mind was full of the
doubts and misgivings that have oppressed me since we
left the walls and shelter of Thrave ; and just as Silver
Mary — that great bell which hangs in the tower of
St. Gilca—tolled the last stroke of the hour of twelve, I
heard a deep sigh near me."
" A sigh !" repeated the earl, becoming interested in
spite of himself; "was it not the wind in an arrow-
hole?"
" A sigh, loud almost as a sob ! I turned—there was
no one near me ; but the old and gloomy arras which
covered the walls was violently agitated and shaken., so
70
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
that the brown moths flew out of it. The sigh was
repeated ; and though I know myself to be brave as most
men, I felt—yet knew not why—the life-blood curdling
in my heart, and, as the Scripture hath it, the hair of my
flesh stood up. Then an emotion which I could not
resist, like the strong power we obey in a dream, led me
on. I raised the old mouldy arras—and then—then—
oh what a sight saw I there !"
" What ?" asked the earl, in a low voice.
The perspiration rolled in bead-like drops from the pale
forehead of the old baron upon his white beard and polished
cuirass, as he replied in a solemn and husky whisper,
" As I live by bread which the blessed God yields, and
hope to die in the faith of our fathers, I beheld a decapi-
tated corpse, the head of which rolled past me, with
winking eyes, with chattering teeth, and with features
livid and convulsed, as when the headsman's axe has just
severed the neck ! I knew those ghastly features—knew
that curly hair—I knew that comely form "
" And," said Abercorn, growing very pale in spite of
himself; " and this head was "
" Your kinsman's—the earl of Douglas !"
" Pho !" replied Abercorn, seeming suddenly to expe-
rience great relief; " by St. Bryde, I thought you were
about to say 'twas mine. Did this grim vision speak to
you !"
" No—but straightway vanished—melted away, and I
was left in the chamber to solitude, to fears and prayers,
but not to sleep."
"'Tis well you did not see any more heads roll past in
this odd fashion," said Abercorn, jibingly.
"Lord James of Abercorn," said Fleming, solemnly,
"I was long your father's comrade and most trusted
FOREBODINGS.
71
friend. For forty long but stirring years there came no
jar between us, though ever engaged in war and tumult.
Together we were wounded and taken prisoners at
Homildon.; together we defended this castle of Edin-
burgh against Henry IY. of England, and repulsed him;
together we fought in France, and fell wounded side by
side at Yerneuil—but he, alas ! mortally, when attempt-
ing to save me, and now he sleeps the sleep of death in
St. Gratians of Tournay—for there I closed his eyes, and
laid his well-notched sword beside him "
" All this, and much more, have I heard a hundred
times, by the winter fire, at Douglas, at Thrave, and in
your own hospitable house of Cumbernauld," said Aber-
corn haughtily and impatiently.
" Then hear it once again, to fire your lagging zeal,
mistaken man !" said Sir Malcolm, with growing excite-
ment in his tone and suspicion in his heart; " hear it
once again, to bear witness of my faith, when I feel assured
that this day no banquet, no wassail, no honour or hospi-
tality, but death and life are in the balance ! "
"What a-God's name seek you?" asked James of
Abercorn, through his clenched teeth ; for this animated
and protracted discussion had drawn about them the
abbot, their host; the earl of Douglas ; little Lord David,
his brother; even the Countess, Murielle, and other
ladies, who threw up their veils, and listened with sur-
prise. Sir Malcolm resumed :—
" Ay, ay, young lord ; since first I learned to make
the sign of the cross at my auld mother's knee in the hall
of Cumbernauld, among the wilds of Dunbarton, true
have I been, Abercorn, to Douglas and his race ; so listen
to me, if you can, without that cold sneer in your eye, on
72
THE CAPTAIU OF THE GUARD.
your lip, and in your heart ! Trust not Cr'icftton, and
trust not Livingstone, or dool ,and woe will come on
thee and thine ! Oh, if you have one drop of warm blood
in your heart, join with me in urging your kinsman and
chief to share my doubts of these men."
" What in the name of Mahoun am I to say ?" ex-
claimed Abercorn, whose eyes glared with anger, while he
tugged his black beard in his vexation.
" Beware ye all! " resumed the earnest old laird of
Cumbernauld ! " I know what a city and a court are,
with their rakes and high-born harlots ; their carpet-
knights and fawning cut-throats ; their bullies and swash-
bucklers—with servile bows and smiling faces—their
black, bitter, false, and cowardly hearts ! So here, at the
eleventh hour, as it were, I, Sir Malcolm Fleming, of
Biggar and Cumbernauld, the soothfast friend of Douglas,
say unto ye all, go not this day to the castle of Edin-
burgh." .
Lord Abercorn listened to all this with rage in his eye,
a sneer on his lip, and perplexity on his brow; and
these mingling emotions deepened when the usually
haughty countess requested the old knight to rehearse
the story of the midnight vision. It certainly had a
serious impression upon all, for the age was full of super-
stition, of omens, spectres, and supernatural terrors, when
the bravest men would occasionally tremble at their own
shadows. Thus for a few minutes even the young earl of
Douglas seemed silent and oppressed, while Murielle burst
into tears, and drew down her veil.
" It is as great a pity to see a woman weep as a goose
go barefoot," said Abercorn, furiously and coarsely, using
an old proverb : " by our Lady of Whitekirk! I think
FOREBODINGS.
73
you are all demented. Lord abbot, talk to this old
ghos-tseer, and assure him there can be no such thing in
nature as the spectre of a living man."
" But there are wraiths," said Sir Alan Lauder ; "and
who can deny their existence, when Scotland is filled with
tales of them."
"Lord abbot," resumed Abercorn, more irritated than
ever, " speak and say, I charge you, that no such things
can be."
" I can assure him of no such fallacy," replied the
pedantic abbot, with displeasure, as he adjusted his long-
flapped calotte cap over his thin, white, silvery hair.
" History, ancient and modern, teems with tales of
terrible appearances. Does not Pliny the younger, in his
letters, affirm, as an incontrovertible fact, that Atheno-
dorus the philosopher, the disciple of Zeno and keeper
of the royal library at Pergamus, once saw a dreadful
tpectre ?"
"When—how?" asked the countess, impressed by the
strange names which the abbot used so glibly.
" Pliny relates that Athenodorus purchased an old
house in Athens, which many had refused to occupy?
because it was haunted by an unquiet spirit. So Atheno-
dorus waited courageously to see it."
" What—the house ?" asked Abercorn.
" No—the spectre. Dragging a massy chain, it carme at
length in a shapeless and dreadful form, and commanded
him to follow it. The philosopher, who, though trembling
in his soul, affected to be busy at that moment, said
' Wait a little but the spirit rattled its rusty chain
furiously, so Athenodorus arose and followed it to the
marble court near which his villa stood, and, on reaching
a certain spot, the apparition vanished. Athenodorus,
74
THE CAPTAIN OP THE GUAKD.
saith Pliny, marked the place that he might know it
again. On the following day he assembled the magistrates
of Athens, and on digging up the soil the bones of a man
with a rusty chain were found. They were publicly in-
terred elsewhere, and from that hour his mansion was
disturbed no more. Shall we question that which such
men as Plutarch and Pliny have asserted to have been ?
Like the foul heretic Paul Crawar of Bohemia, dare you
impugn that which you cannot comprehend and which
you know not ? Can you deny or doubt the existence
of a spirit, when you cannot prove your own ? In all
past times, in all lands, among every kind of people,
however highly civilized or however lowly savage, appari-
tions have been seen as warnings for good or for evil;
and such will be permitted until that fell spirit whose
hapless state I shall one day lay before our Holy Father
be forgiven, and fear and hate and war shall be no more."
Enraged by this pedantic rebuke, the earl of Abercorn
twisted his moustache, and spurred and checked his horse
till it almost sprang into the air.
" Then what do you advise, my lord abbot ?" asked the
countess, in evident perplexity.
" That my lord your husband should hearken unto the
advice of his counsellors, whom his father never slighted,
but ever held with reverence."
" I thank you, lord abbot," said Fleming, pressing the
abbot's hand. " Let the earl at least leave behind him
the two ladies of his house, his brother Lord David, Earl
James of Abercorn, and Hugh of Ormond."
" To what end ?" asked the earl of Ormond.
"To gratify the prayer and anxious heart of an old
friend, and that the house of Douglas may not be in an
evil hour laid open to the stroke of fortune,—your father s
FOREBODINGS.
75
last injunction when he lay dying at Kestalrig," added
Fleming to the young earl.
His marked energy and anxiety, together with the
entreaties of Sir Alan Lauder and those of the Douglases
of Pompherston, Strabrock, and Glendoning, made the
chief pause and waver in his purpose. He said,—
" Shall I return now after having ridden to his very
gates, as it were ? Impossible ! And the young king—
what will he, what will the people say ? and then the
chancellor's letter flattered so suavely."
" The greater reason to distrust him," muttered the
bearded knights to each other under their lifted helmets.
"Wherefore, why?" said Abercorn, burning with a
rage which he could no longer dissemble, as a long-pro-
jected and carefully-developed plot seemed on the point of
dissolving into air.
" Take counsel of your own brave heart, and good, my
lord, run not your chief and his brother too into the lion's
den. Crichton flatters to deceive !" replied Sir Malcolm
Fleming.
" It may be wise, when so many seem to think so, that
yob should remember the last words of your father at
Restalrig," said Murielle, softly touching the hand of
Douglas.
" True, sweet cousin. My brother David "
" Will go wheresoever you go," replied the brave boy,
with a hand on his jewelled dagger; " neither imaginary
nor real danger shall cow me."
" And I too shall go," added the earl of Ormond; " but
as policy seems necessary here, let our kinsman, James of
Abercorn, remain behind with the countess and Lady
Murielle. Then, come what may, we leave a man able
and willing to avenge us.'
76
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
" Ormond speaks -well and wisely," said the abbot,
while a close observer might bave seen the gleam of joy
which passed over Abercorn's white, malignant face, on
hearing a proposal so exactly to his secret wishes.
" So be it, then; I am weary of this loitering ; let us
begone, or the chancellor's good cheer will be chilled by
the November air," said Douglas.
"'Tis well to jest," began Abercorn
"But if Crichton wrongs me, woe to him !" cried the
fiery young earl, shaking his clenched hand aloft ; " he dare
not—he dare not! If he doth, by my father's grave in
Melrose kirk I shall level his castle of Crichton to its
ground-stone !"
" William Douglas," said the countess, who had been
conferring for a moment with Abercorn, " you speak as
your father would have spoken • yet act warily, as he
would have acted. We know not what may be the issue
of a day which has commenced so ominously, and, if swords
are drawn, women would but encumber you. Murielle.
Lady Ormond, and I will tarry here until the banquet is
over. Make fitting excuses to the regent and chancel-
lor—say we are indisposed by our long journey, or what
you will; and now let it be known, gentlemen, kinsmen,
and friends, that in this matter I yield neither to the
advice of my loving lord and husband, who is ever rash ;
nor to the advice of Sir Malcolm Fleming, who is so wary ;
nor to that of our lord abbot, who is ever good and true;
but to the wish of Earl James of Abercorn."
Whether these words were spoken heedlessly as a sneer
at the ready manner in which that noble agreed to remain
behind, or in mere politeness, none could then divine;
but there came a time when they were remembered by
FOREBODINGS.
77
many to the disadvantage of the proud and wilful young
beauty.
At that moment a man in armour with a closed helmet
rode hurriedly through the archway. He was James
Achanna.
" Lord earl," said he, " the chancellor awaits you with-
out the castle gate."
" Enough, then—let us go ; we should have been ringing
glasses and exchanging kissing-comfits with our beloved
friend the chancellor an hour since," said Douglas, lifting
his plumed bonnet as he courteously kissed the hands of
his wife and her sister.
He then put spurs to his horse and rode off, accompa-
nied by his brother David, Sir Malcolm Fleming, Sir Alan
Lauder, the abbot, and five hundred men led by the earl
of Ormond—all completely armed and horsed.
As the clatter of their hoofs died away, a foreboding
sigh came from Margaret's breast; but there was a cold
though courteous smile on the lips of Lord Abercorn, as
he gave her his ungloved hand and led her, with Murielle,
back into the almost deserted house of the abbot.
Why was it that Margaret's heart upbraided her ? She
seemed still to see before her the face of that proud
and handsome, noble-hearted and high-spirited cousin with
whom she had shared her heart and the revenues of her
princely house!
Why was it that, as the day passed slowly on and the
November sun sank in masses of foggy cloud, the earl of
Abercorn, pale, excited, and abstracted, shunned his friends
and paced to and fro in the abbot's garden, casting his eyes
ever and anon to the summit of the fortress, which was
visible above the adjacent streets ?
78
the captain oy the guard.
He started ! a distant hum became a confused clamour
of many voices ; then the galloping of horses and a rush
of feet were heard.
He looked again to David tower, and from its rampart
the national cross had disappeared. A black banner was
floating there, and only half hoisted on the staff,—a double
symbol of death!
CHAPTER XI
the vigil of st. catharine.
The nobles of our land were much delighted then,
To have at their command a crew of lusty men ;
Who by their coats were known of tawny, red, or blue,
With crests their sleeves upon, when this old cap was new.
The Eoxbuegh Ballads.
At the outer gate of the fortress of Edinburgh (a
barrier which then crossed the narrow street of the
Castle-hill) the lord chancellor was on horseback,
attended by a brilliant retinue of men-at-arms, with
many lacqueys and liverymen on foot, wearing cloth
hoods of the same fashion then worn in England, but-
toned under the chin, and having deep capes, with
scolloped edges, falling over the shoulders. These hoods
were usually of scarlet cloth, and were worn with a
cock's feather, placed jauntily on the left side as indica-
tive of some pretension to gentility.
The gaberdines of these liverymen were of blue
Flemish cloth, and all had embroidered on their breasts,
an escutcheon, argent, charged with a lion rampant azure,
the arms of Crichton, with his motto " God send grace
THE VIGIL OF ST. CATHARINE.
and all were accoutred with swords, daggers, and'
partisans.
On foot beside the chancellor were his pages; one
bore his sword, the other held his horse's bridle, a third
his cap of maintenance upon a velvet cushion.
A little way within the barrier were Sir "Walter Haly-
burton, lord of Dirltoun, who was then high treasurer ;
John Methven, the secretary of state ; Sir James Crich-
ton of Frendraught, great chamberlain and third officer
of the crown ; with Patrick Lord Glammis, master of
the household. All these, like their immediate followers,
were well armed; but that circumstance excited no
notice, as it was always the custom to be so in Scotland -r
and a gay group they formed, as the noonday sun
streamed through the old archway, whose front was
blackened by smoke and time, upon their tabard-like
jupons and hanging sleeves, the heraldic devices on their
breasts, their glittering bassinets, waving feathers,
rich sword-hilts, jewelled daggers, and gold neck-
chains.
Beyond these were the hundred pikemen of the king's
guard, under Sir Patrick Gray and Sir Thomas
MacLellan ; and high over all this array towered the
castle rock, crowned by its old enceinte, or wall of
defence, and its bastel-houses, in the three greatest of
which, to wit, the Poyal Lodging, King David's Tower,
and that of the constable, originated the heraldic triple-
towered fortress which, from time immemorial, has
formed the arms of the city.
As Douglas and his train approached, bombarde,
moyenne, and culverin thundered from the ramparts;
loud and shrilly twanged the trumpets and horns, and
the great crowd assembled in the narrow street made an
80
THE CAPTAIN Or THE GUARD.
immediate and simultaneous movement towards the
guarded archway.
When the earl's train came near, the quick eyes of the
chancellor, as readily as those of our lover, detected the
absence of the countess and Murielle. Gray could
scarcely repress his anxiety and natural surprise at a
circumstance so unexpected ; but the chancellor bit his
nether lip with vexation, for Margaret, as heiress of
Galloway, was the second head of that mighty house
which he had sworn to humble for ever. Then a strange
smile flitted over his usually impassible face when next
he missed the sardonic visage and stealthy eyes of James
Douglas, earl of Abercorn.
" Traitor lordling," he muttered, " thou too, in time,
shalt dree thy destiny ! "
At the distance of thirty paces from the gate the earl
of Douglas alighted from his horse, and relinquishing the
bridle to a page, advanced bonnet in hand towards the
chancellor, who also dismounted, and approached jn the
same manner, while all present who were not men-at-
arms also quitted their saddles, or as the abbot of Tong-
land says in his MSS. "lichted down"
They greeted each other with a cold formality, over
which Crichton, the elder by many years, and the more
politic, endeavoured to spread the shallow veil of friendly
warmth and courtly dissimulation.
. " Welcome, lord earl, most welcome ; or shall I say,
duke of Touraine ? "
" I am prouder of my father's name of Douglas than of
any foreign duchy, Sir William," replied the haughty
boy as he presented his hand with cold politeness.
" Here I am but a Scottish earl."
The chancellor bowed, and stifled his indignation, for
THE VIGIL OF ST. CATHARINE.
81
in this reply three things offended him; the earl's
avowal of family pride, addressing him plainly as 'Sir
William instead of lord chancellor, and then presenting
his hand gloved—a token of mistrust.
" And this young gentleman," began the chancellor,—
" Is my brother Lord David Douglas," said the earl.
" Most welcome too; but the countess, once the Fair
Maid of Galloway," said Crichton, with a bland smile;
" will she not grace our young king's board to day ? "
" The king's grace, and you, Sir William Crichton,
must hold the countess, her sister, and likewise the Lady
Ormond, excused to-day; the ways are rough and the
journey long from Thrave to Edinburgh."
" True ; but the measure of—of my happiness (he had
almost said vengeance) will be incomplete without them."
" There are Douglases enough here to supply their
places," said the earl, glancing at his mail-clad followers
with a significant smile ; and Crichton said,—
" Enter, lord earl, the king's grace and the regent
await you in the great hall."
After each declining to precede the other, the wily
chancellor, while making a sign previously agreed upon
and understood by James Achanna and Romanno of that
ilk, constable of the garrison, gave a hand to each of the
brothers, and led them within the gate.
There was an immediate rush among their rough and
tumultuary followers to press in after them, but the
king's guard and the chancellor's vassals, with levelled
pikes, bore back alike the excited multitude of citizens
and the wild Scots of Galloway, bare-kneed and bare-
armed, with their habergeons of jaLgling iron rings, and
the strong barrier-gate was closed with haste and diffi-
o.ulty. Lord Ormond, Sir Malcolm Fleming, Sir Alan
82
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
Lauder, and a few others, in virtue of their rank, being
alone permitted to enter.
This cowp was the more easily effected, as at the
moment of the earl's entrance Douglas of Pompherston,
his purse-bearer, cried " largesse ! largesse"! " and to add
to the incidental popularity of his lord, scattered several
handfuls of silver coin among the people, who scrambled
in pursuit of them, and rolled over each other in heaps,
while the reckless young earl and his brother laughed
and threw more, to increase the uproar and merriment.
Then the portcullis, a massive iron grille, was lowered
slowly down in its stony grooves, and when its iron
spikes reached the causeway, James Achanna, the double
tool of Abercorn and the chancellor, exchanged with the'
latter one of those deep and rapid smiles by which
courtly villains can read each other's hearts and convey a
volume of subtle thoughts.
Unheeding, or unobservant of all these circumstances,
the earl and his brother accompanied the chancellor into
the fortress, and as they slowly proceeded up the steep
steps and winding path, which led in a north-westerly
direction, to the summit of the rock, Crichton expatiated
on the joy this meeting occasioned him, as being the
precursor of domestic peace, of good will and unity,
between his master the king and the great house of
Douglas; but while speaking he could perceive tbs
haughty young peer exchanging secret smiles with his
brother; so, nothing daunted, the chancellor continued
to flatter, and secretly smiled in his turn.
" Great as the house of Douglas has been
" Is, my lord," interrupted the earl, haughtily.
" Pardon me," stammered Crichton, reddening with
anger to find himser addressed by a boy; " I was
THE VIGIL OF ST. CATHARINE.
83
about to say, that in ages past, its chief glory was ever in
its obedience'to the crown, from whence its greatness and
its honours sprung."
" Well 1" observed the boy-noble impatiently.
" Enemies have accused you of treason "
" Yourself, for instance, Sir William."
" True—as first officer of the crown," continued the
chancellor, with a severity that increased with the bitter-
ness that grew in his heart, "I have blamed you deeply
and frequently; but this day will free you of all those
suspicions which that unwise embassy to France occa-
sioned."
" Sir William Crichton !"
" I am a man four times your age, lord earl," inter-
rupted the chancellor, speaking very fast to avoid
explicit or excited answers, " so pray excuse my grey
hairs if they permit me to assume a monitory tone and
venture to yield advice. I would but pray you to
execute justice on your vast estates of Galloway, Annan-
dale, and Balvenie with impartiality and gentleness; and
not to protect from the just vengeance of the king, our
lord and master, those lawless barons who levy feudal war
and destroy each other's towers, villages, and territories,
and by so doing impoverish the realm and oppress the
people. Disobedience to the king has been the ruin of
the most ancient and noble families ; thus, 1 would pray
you, my lord, to content yourself with the splendour
attained by your house, and the glorious name it has
borne for ages in peace and in war, nor seek to raise it
above that throne in defence of which so many of the
Douglas name have died in battle. Ave Ma/ria ! If you
would surpass your king in anything, let it be in religion,
in bounty and charity to your countrymen; surpass him
q 2
84
the captain of the guard.
thus, and I, whom you have long deemed your enemy,
will pray with my latest breath for the glory and prospe-
rity of the lordly line of Douglas, and that Scotland may
long have cause to remember with joy the vigil of St.
Catherine."
To all these remarks, which so well became the station
and superior years of the chancellor, the petulant young
earl disdained to reply, save by a cold and disdainful
smile or so forth ; and as Crichton concluded, they
found themselves in the banquet-hall of the castle, and in
presence of the king and the regent of Scotland,
CHAPTER XII.
the black bull's head.
Edinburgh castle, town, and tower,
God grant ye sinke for sin ;
And yat even for ye black dinour
Erie Douglas gat therein.—Old Rhyme.
The hall in which this banquet was given, was the
upper chamber of David's Tower.
Our novel of "Jane Seaton" contains a description of
this gigantic edifice, which was the chief of the bastel-
houses which crowned
" The height
Where the huge castle holds its state :**
but the MSS. of the abbot of Tongland throw some id-
ditional light upon its history.
This tower rose to the height of more than seventy
feet above the summit of Cs* steep rock. It contained a
THE BLACK BULL'S HEAD.
8-5
great hall and many lesser chambers, and was founded by
David II., about 1360, upon the basement of a still older
tower, perhaps the same edifice which vulgar tradition
ascribes to the painted Picts, who are alleged to have
conveyed from hand to hand the stones from the sandy
quarry of Craig-mohl-ard (or the rock of the plain),'"' and
at the gate of which the first David—the Scottish
Justinian—was wont to sit, as his biographer, St. AElred,
tells us, dispensing justice, and hearing the complaints of
the poor, even as St. Louis of France sat under an oak in
the wood of Yincennes.
All the masons who built this tower died in the year
it was completed • as if, says the abbot of Tongland, fate
ordained that the secrets of its stairs and construction
should die with them; and within it hung a bell, which,
when a king of Scotland died, tolled of its own accord,
like that great bell of Arragon, which always announced
when " fate was nigh " the line of Pamiro.
In this old tower dwelt a brownie, who was believed to
come at night to sleep near the embers of the hall fire,
after plaiting the frills, pinners, and rufis of the queen
and her ladies. Some alleged that the cannon of the
siege in 1573 put this useful household spirit to flight;
others, that he was baptized by the priest of St. Cuth-
bert's Kirk, who concealed himself in the dusk within
the hall ingle, where, when the brownie, in the form of a
lean and withered little man, wearing a short yellow
cloak, and red hosen (the royal livery), came at midnight
to resume his nocturnal avocations, a handful of holy
water was dashed in his face by the priest, who cried with
a loud voice,—" In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus
Sancti! Amen."
* Craigmiliar.
86
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
Oil this, the brownie wept bitterly, and vanished, to
return no more.
The hall was hung with banners and trophies. The
noonday light of the November sun, varied by many a
passing cloud, poured through its arched windows upon
the long table, which was spread with all the plenty and
massive magnificence of the olden time ; upon the rows
of high-backed chairs for the guests ; upon the throne for
the young king, with its steps and purple velvet canopy;
on the rich liveries of the trumpeters who were to
announce the feast; and on the steel armour of the
guards, who stood near the royal seat in honour of the
guests; on each and all fell the slant rays of the sun
lighting up many a glittering ornament, for the walls of
the hall were entirely covered by yellow Spanish leather,
stamped by alternate thistles and fleurs-de-lis in gold,
while in the great fireplace there burned a fire of coals,
mingled with pleasantly 'perfumed wood; a curious luxury
not uncommon then.
The royal cupbearer, and six soldiers of the guard
armed with partisans, were posted near a recess, or ambre,
under the carved stone canopy of which glittered the
king's service of plate. Amid it was a long slender
flask of potters' ware, beautifully fashioned by the fair
hands of Jacqueline, countess of Hainault and Flanders,
the boldest and loveliest woman of her time, who, after
abdicating in 1433, during her seclusion in the castle of
Teylingen, near Leyden, employed the weary hours in
making flasks of clay, and one of these she sent to the
royal minstrel, James I. of Scotland, in care of the Dyck
Graf of Bommel.
Now the brass trumpets sent their sharp ringing notes
along the vaulted roof; spurs of gold and steel jangled
THE BLACK BULL'S HEAD.
87
on the tiled floor, while, preceded by all the combined
pomp and mummery of ancient royalty, James II., a fair-
haired and handsome boy, clad in a glittering doublet,
fashioned like a herald's tabard, having the lion gules
within the double tressure on the back, breast, and sleeves
thereof, was led to the throne by the tall and sombre
regent, while the crafty Crichton placed the young earl
of Douglas on his right-hand. Again the trumpets
sounded, and the guests, in succession, were marshalled to
their places by Glammis, the master of the household,
who executed this delicate matter—for delicate it was in
that age of fierce punctilio—with scrupulous exactness, as
to rank and precedence.
The boy-earl, with his dark eyes, his swarthy face and
black curly hair, his bold bearing and defiant expression,
formed so marked a contrast to the boy-king, who was
fair-skinned, with fair hair and gentle eyes, that many
present remarked the difference of their aspect and cha-
racter.
On the young king's left cheek there was a small red
spot, or fleshmark, which caused the people to name him
in after years, "James with the Fiery Face."
" Why tarries the countess ?" asked Gray, in a hasty
whisper, of Lord David Douglas.
" She is not to be here," said the lad, smiling.
" ISTor the Countess of Ormond ?"
" No ; nor Murielle, either," added David, playing with
. the gold tassels of his mantle.
" Why?"
" I am not in her secrets."
" But Lady Murielle "
" Came not, because there were none here whom she
cared to meet," said the spiteful little lord, with a grimace.
88
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
The abbot of Tongland invoked a blessing; and after
they had all discussed platters of good Scottish broth,
which, they supped with massive old spoons, that might
have served at the spousal feast of King Robert and
Marjorie Bruce, and very probably did so, the clatter of
knives began, as the servers, pages, and pantrymen sliced
down the chines of beef, the roasted pigs and brawns, or
unroofed the huge pasties of pigeons and venison, and
rushed here and there with trenchers of stewed hares,
roasted ducks, buttered crabs, salads and salmon, manchets
of flour, and confections of honey and sweetmeats, all of
which were eaten pellmell, without order or course.
Meanwhile the wines of France and Spain flowed freely,
and brown ale frothed up in tankards and flagons, in
which the long moustaches of the guests floated, as they
quaffed to each other's health, and a long continuance of
this sudden good fellowship, at which, in many instances,
by their eyes and whispers, they seemed to scoff in secret.
Then a band of bearded minstrels and musicians, with
harp and pipe, tabor, flute, and trumpet, in the gallery,
played " Pastance with Gude Companie," and other old
airs, which have been long since forgotten; or, if extant,
are now known under new names.
Amid all this the pale chancellor, and the grave, but
soldier-like regent, were abstracted and nervous; and the
emotion of the former increased as the banquet proceeded,
and the fatal moment drew near : yet, animated by a sen-
timent of duty to be performed to their king and country,
no thought of pity or remorse found admission in the
bosoms of either.
The young king and his young noble spoke of dogs, of
hawks, of horses, and archery • of hunting and tilting;
but the earl seemed to disdain the puerile conversation of
THE BLACK BULL'S HEAD
89
the yet-secluded sovereign, treating him coldly, and with
an air of lofty patronage, amusing enough in one of his
junior years, but sufficiently apparent to all.
Sir Patrick Gray felt that on this day the kinsmen of
Murielle Douglas treated him more coldly than ever, as
they deemed themselves in the zenith of their power and
fantastic pride, lording it alike over the king and all his
court.
" You see there my Captain of the Guard 1'' he heard
the king say, with a kind smile, to the earl, who knit his
brows, and contemptuously asked :—
" Who is he 1 "
" Sir Patrick Gray," replied the little monarch, whose
eyes dilated with surprise.
" Of what—or where 1"
" Of Foulis."
" Indeed ! "
" A brave and noble gentleman," said James II., with
an enthusiasm that made the poor soldier's heart expand
with the purest joy ; " lord earl, do you not know him 1"
'■'Yes," said Douglas, frigidly ; " but what of him 1 "
" He gave me a goshawk as a gift last New Year's-day,
and I have killed with it every corbie in the woods of
Bristo."
" Indeed !"
" And then at Lady-day he gr \e me two such noble
hounds of St. Hubert's breed !"
" St. Bryde ! how came such as he, by dogs so rare ? "
Sir Patrick bit his nether lip with suppressed passion
at this continued insolence of tone, while the young king
replied :—
"We sent him with a message to Jacqueline of
Haiuault—at least the Begent Livingstone did so, last
90
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
year,—an errand of courtesy, for the countess was my
father's friend. In passing through the forest of
Ardennes, he tarried for a night at the Benedictine
abbey of St. Hubert, and bought from the monks these
two black hounds, the lineal descendants of those which
accompanied the saint when he hunted with St. Eustace.
They have silver, collars, and despite my lady Glammis,
sleep every night at the foot of my bed ! "
" Laus Deo ! " said the earl, shrugging his shoulders ;
" doubtless they must have somewhat of the odour of
sanctity about them."
At this remark Sir Thomas MacLellan laughed, and
the petulant earl turned almost fiercely to him, saying :—
" Sirrah, dare you laugh 1"
" Saints and devils, my lord," retorted the Lieutenant
of the Guard, " may not a man laugh ? "
" No !"
" And why not, my lord earl % *
" Because to laugh is at times to assume a superiority,
or a bearing of approval, which I would not permit even
in our liege lord the king ! "
The eyes of the chancellor met those of the regent,
whose pale forehead flushed with anger at this insulting
remark, though it illustrated how dangerous was the
spirit they were about to crush.
" By St. Jude, Douglas, I laughed not at thee, but at
thy saying," exclaimed MacLellan, breaking the mo-
mentary silence which had ensued.
"Then beware, lordling," said Douglas, who knew
there was an old jealousy between the MacLellans and
his people.
"I am no lord or earl either," replied MacLellan,
flushing with anger in turn.
THE BLACK BULL'S HEAD.
91
" What then 1"
"One whom you know well to be a gentleman of
Galloway, my lord. The king may gift coronets or titles,
and attaint them, too ; but God alone can make or un-
make a loyal Scottish gentleman ! "
The little king seemed almost scared by this angry
outburst ; but the regent and his adherents exchanged
glances of approval, and they started involuntarily, for at
that instant the great bell of David Tower announced
the hour of three.
The fatal time had come !
Then the king's master-butcher entered, bearing aloft
a vast covered platter, which, by its size, attracted the
attention and excited the surprise of all; and passing
deliberately round the great apartment, while many jests
were made as to what new fare it contained, he placed it
before the young earl of Douglas.
" Remove the cover 1 " said the regent, whose voice
was hollow, as if it came from a coffin.
The master-butcher did so, and there was grimly
revealed the old Celtic symbol of death, a black bull's
head of great size, with its square nostrils, its grey
polished horns, and curly forehead.
92
the captain op the guard.
CHAPTER XIII.
the block.
I must Lave
A more potential draught of guilt than this,
With more of wormwood in it.—firmiulvn.
A simultaneous cry burst from all on seeing this sure
and terrible forerunner of a sudden deatb ; all sprang
from the table, and instinctively did so, sword in hand ;
for at the same moment the door of the 'tiring room was
thrown violently open, and a chosen party of Crichton's
vassals, led by Romanno of that ilk, constable of the
castle, Andrew Gray of Balgarno, and others, rushed
forward, and with levelled partisans, separated the earl of
Douglas and his brother David from their more imme-
diate friends.
" To your swords and defend yourselves, my brother
and friends; we are lured—tricked to death ! " cried the
young earl, with prompt bravexy, hewing right and left
at the partisans , " A Douglas ! a Douglas ! cut mo a
passage to the king—to the throne—it is at least a
sanctuary ! "
" Hold, my lord ! " exclaimed the chancellor, in a voice
of thunder, as he stood with one foot on the lower step
of the king's chair, and firmly interposed his drawn
sword, " it is no sanctuary for thee or thine ! and dare
you "
" Slay a chancellor 1 Yes, if I can, and this dog regent,
too, like false hounds and fell traitors as ye are !" replied
the brave youth, with a scornful but heartrending smile ;
while, by the press of partisans levelled in a dense rank,
THE BLOCK.
03
he and his brother, with Sir Malcolm Fleming, Sir Alan
Lauder, and all others disposed to resistance, were thrust
close to the wall, yet they shouted resolutely, " a Douglas !
a Douglas !" The chairs and banquet-tables were over-
thrown, and all became a scene of confusion, destruction,
and dismay, from which many fled by the doors, not
knowing how the brawl would end.
" Guards and gentlemen !" exclaimed the tall grim
regent, as he towered above the armed throng, and
roughly but firmly grasped the left arm of the bewildered
king, who thought he was about to perish, like his father,
by the hands of regicides, yet, like a brave boy as he was,
had rushed forward to save Douglas; "guards and gentle-
men, disarm this traitorous peer and all who have drawn
their swords by his side in the royal presence. Put up
your blade, I command you, William, earl of Douglas—
the king is here, and this is his royal castle ! "
" Dishonour blight it for this day's deed," exclaimed
old Sir Malcolm Fleming, " and may its roof-tree be the
gallows of all thy race, accursed Crichton ! thou cogging
villain, thou cheat and assassin ! And as for thee, Lord
regent—hah ! the sword that knighted thee was never
notched in battle ! "
" A very carpet squire !" said Lauder, scornfully.
" Liars are both ; the blade that knighted me was our
Scottish sword of state ; a king's hand gave me the
accolade—a king murdered by traitors false as you !
Now hearken to me, Douglas. Fate has this day placed
the destinies of your rebellious and overweening house in
the hands of a justly-offended king and his resolute
ministers, so prepare for a doom upon which a short but
ample career of evil actions has hurried you—that fatal
doom which incensed justice i3 about to mete out to you
94
THE CAPTAIN OP THE GUARD.
and the adherents of your father. Disarm them, guards
I say ; by my voice the king commands it ! "
Seeing the futility of resistance, the venerable laird of
Cumbernauld tossed his sword disdainfully to the Captain
of the Guard, and Sir Alan Lauder broke his blade
across his knee, and flung the fragments down in sullen
silence ; but the earl and his brother hacked and hewed
at the shafts of the partisans, inflicting many severe
wounds on the hands and arms of their assailants, before
they were beaten down, disarmed, when mad with fury,
and secured by silken cords, torn from the curtains of
the hall windows. Achanna, while pretending to save
the earl, hung treacherously upon his sword arm till he
was captured, and the sorrowing and bewildered Captain
of the Guard had to interpose his own sword between
the furious boy Lord David and Bomanno, who had
drawn his dagger, having been exasperated by a slash
across the face. Prior to this the abbot of Tongland,
the earl of Ormond, Douglaso f Pompherston, and others,
had all been dragged from the hall and forcibly expelled
into the city, where they spread alarm and consternation
through every street and alley.
The poor little king, who, with the six princesses his
sisters, had been given up completely to the care of
Livingstone and Crichton, since his mother Queen Jane
had contracted her foolish marriage with the handsome
Sir James Stewart, usually known as the Black Knight
of Lorn, surveyed this terrible scene with the bewilder-
ment of a startled boy; but, on beholding the two
brothers manacled with cords, bruised, bleeding, and faint,
after their brave but futile struggle, he burst into tears,
and clutching the robe of the lord chancellor, besought
him " to spare them."
THE BLOCK.
95
^lien, according to Balfour, in his " Annals of Scotland,"
a&J other writers, the chancellor replied sternly :—" You
are but a child, and know not what you demand, for to
spare them would be the ruin. of you and your whole
kingdom !"
" Forgive them ; oh, forgive them !" continued the
princely boy, wringing his hands, and appealing next to
the regent; hut he too replied grimly :—" Your grace
knows not what you ask."
" I do know what I ask, and what J command. Am
I not a king ?" was the passionate response.
" Well, rather than obey," replied Crichton, through
his clenched teeth, " I would walk barefoot over seven
burning ploughshares, or over the seven times heated
furnace of hell," he added, with terrible energy; " our
time for vengeance has come !"
But the little monarch continued to sob and say :—
" Lord regent, lord regent, I am a king."
At last he appealed to Sir Patrick Gray, commanding
him to draw his dagger and cut the cords which bound
the brothers and their two faithful friends ; but the un-
fortunate captain, confounded by the suddenness of the
catastrophe, impelled by his love for Murielle on one hand,
his duty to the two highest officers of the crown on the
other; his regard for the young king, and a remembrance
of how insolently these Douglases had ever treated him-
self, leaned on his sword, and covered his face with his
hand, to hide the emotion that warred in his breast.
Suddenly he approached Crichton, to unite his entreaties
to those of his young monarch ; but was roughly repelled.
" Oh, chancellor," he exclaimed, " is this my meed—this
my reward for faithful service as the king's liege man ?"
" If such you be, I command v«u, peace, Sir Patrick—
96
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
guard the king, and leave the punishment of his rebels
to us."
Now the voice of the regent was heard above the
throng, as he shook his clenched right hand aloft.
"I arrest you, William, duke of Touraine, earl of
Douglas, lord of Annandale, Longueville, and Gallowa.y, on
charges of foul treason ; and you, Lord David Douglas;
you, Sir Malcolm Fleming of Biggar and Cumbernauld ;
and you, Sir Alan Lauder of the Bass, captain of the
castle of Thrave, on the same serious accusation."
" Treason 1" reiterated the young earl, as he proudly
raised his head ; " in what have I been guilty of treason ;
and who dare accuse me 1"
—the chancellor of Scotland," replied Crichton.
" Bead the charges," said the regent, sternly.
" They are here," replied Crichton, unfolding a docu-
ment, while all leaned on their unsheathed weapons, and
listened breathlessly. " Treason, in the daily oppression
of the king's subjects, at the head of two thousand horse-
men, most of whom are outlawed moss-troopers and thieves
of Annandale, who sorn on the king's lieges, and commit
e\ery outrage ; and this ye do, though the parliament
held at Perth, in 1424, ordained that no man should travel
abroad with more followers than he could maintain.
Treason in dubbing men as knights who are but sorners,
limmers, and masterful rogues. Treason, in holding cours
pUaieres after the fashion of parliament; and treason, in
sending two gentlemen to France as your ambassadors
to Charles YII."
"It is false, as all the rest !" exclaimed the earl. "I
did but send them as rny father desired me, when he
lay dying at Bestalrig, to renew his oath of fealty for the
duchy of Touraine, the fief of Longueville, and other lands
THE BLOCK.
97
we hold in France; and to fix the yearly rental of the
former at ten thousand crowns."
"He speaks most truly," exclaimed Sir Malcolm
Fleming and Sir Alan Lauder in the same breath.
"Well, all this, though too little for a king, was too
great for a subject," said the regent, haughtily.
" The extent of your power and the misuse thereof,"
resumed the chancellor, "with the lawless character of
your followers, are pretexts enough, without others, on
which to arraign you. No religion, no threats, no prayers
or pretended reformation, no oaths or promises, can
alter the inborn character we inherit with our blood;
and what have you, Douglas, thus inherited % Pride,
treason, contumacy, and the love of open rebellion against
the crown ; and these evil qualities will remain true to
the fount from whence they spring ; so, my lord regent,
to the block, I say, with this viperous brood. If the boy
is thus dangerous, what would the man be 1"
"We demand to be tried by our peers," said the earl,
firmly ; " arraign us before the Estates."
" You have got nearly all the trial and shrift we mean
to give you," said the regent, bluntly. " Romanno, away
with them to the castle Butts."
The trial, if it can be called so, proceeded rapidly, for
the judges had long ago resolved on the sentence, and, as
one historian says, " were determined to make no allow-
ance for the youth and inexperience of the parties—for
the artifices by which they had been lured within the
danger of the law, and for their being totally deprived
of constitutional or legal defenders."
So, without counsel, jury, or written documents of any
kind, these grim proceedings went on; but never once did
ii
98
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
the brave boys sue for pity, for mercy, or even for one
hour of life.
From the ball, where the king, amid the debris of the
banquet and combat, sank weeping on his canopied seat,
the unfortunate earl and his brother were hurried down
the back stair of David's Tower, and dragged to the
greensward of the Butts, where the new barracks were
built in 1796, and there, in the presence of the regent,
the chancellor, Sir Walter Halyburton, the lord high
treasurer, and other officers of state, after being barely
permitted to embrace each other, they were thrown down
on the block in succession, forcibly held there, and be-
headed !
This terrible deed was scarcely done ere all the friends
of the regent and chancellor, save their garrison, hastily
quitted the castle; even as those who now witness an
execution disperse rapidly as if it were a relief to get rid
of emotions so deep as those which are excited by behold-
ing a violent death, however judicially done.
For two days Sir Malcolm Fleming (ancestor of the
earls of Wigton) was respited only because he, had wedded
Elizabeth Stewart, daughter of the old duke of Albany ;
but ultimately he too was beheaded on the same block
that was yet crimsoned with the blood of those he loved
so well.
Sir Alan Lauder, through the friendship of Bomanno,
effected his escape; while Fleming was interred in the
coffin which bore the name of Murielle Douglas.
In a wild spot on the north-western slope of the
castle rock, where the wall-flower and thistle flourished,
and where at times the grass was spotted by the witch-
gowans, those yellow flowers which are filled by pernicious
the twenty-fourth of november. 99
Bap, and are supposed to cause blindness, grew luxuriantly,
they were all interred in one deep grave.
In 1753, when the foundations of an arsenal were being
dug there, some human remains were exhumed, with
several coffin-handles, and three inscription-plates of pure
gold. "With these relics were found the skull and horns
of a bull, thereby identifying them with those victims of
misrule who perished on the vigil of St. Catharine, in
1440.
CHAPTER XIV.
the twenty-fourth of november.
Playing at the tables, he
There was murder'd. At his shrine
Many a noble lady wept;
Many a knight of valiant line :
One mourn'd more than all the rest,
Daughter of the Genovine.
Poetrt or Spain.
In the horror and bewilderment which were naturally
excited by this terrible and unexpected catastrophe—
this double execution which had taken place under his
own eyes, and in which he felt himself thereby almost
implicated, the unfortunate Captain of the King's Guard
knew not what to do.
How would the powerful and hostile Douglases, and
how might Murielle view him now ?
He shrunk from the contemplation, and felt such an
abhorrence of the regent and chancellor, that, although
his bread and subsistence were derived from his post at
court as Captain of the King's Guard, he was tempted to
cast the office from him and leave the country. But to
^ 2
100
THE CAPTAIN OF THB QLTAltl).
pass into exile was to lose all hope of Murielle, to relin-
quish her for ever ; and he lived in an age when love was
perhaps a more concentrated passion than it may be even
in one of greater civilization.
To lure her with him into France,—in those old times
the Scotsman's other home,—would be fraught with dan-
ger ; for the Douglases would have interest enough with
Charles VII. to procure their separation, and his commit-
ment for life to some obscure bastille, where he would
never be heard of again,—if their emissaries did not cut
him off in the light of open day.
Then, on the other hand, his patron and friend, the late
King James I., had made him promise to be a faithful
subject and mentor to his son and heir; and, with one
hand on that dead monarch's body as he lay murdered in
the Black Friary at Perth, he had recorded the promise
again in presence of his mourning widow.
That a terrible vengeance would be planned by the
Douglases and their adherents for that black dinner,—as
it was named,—he felt assured; for all who hated the
regent or dreaded the chancellor had for years found
security in the numerous strongholds of the slaughtered
earl, and had there bid defiance alike to king, law, and
parliament. All the lawless moss-troopers ; all broken,
idle, and mischievous persons, professed themselves
vassals of this powerful house, which was rapidly aiming
at the erection of a separate and independent principality
in the southern and most fertile district of Scotland.
By the stern chancellor's wisdom, and merciless
decree, the headsman's axe had struck a fatal blpw at this
most daring and ambitious scheme : but what might the
sequel be to public as well as private interests 1
And Murielle !
THE TWENTY-FOURTH OF NOVEMBER.
101
She knew all the perils of the age in which she lived i
the daily—yea, hourly dangers to which her lover aa
Captain, of the King's Guard was exposed ; she knew,
too, how many interests were hostile to their union, and
that their love seemed the hopeless passion of a romance
or a harper's song; yet she had still continued to love,
and trust, and hope, though vaguely, for some turn of the
wheel of Fortune, as loving women always do in the
hours of trouble and adversity; but of what avail would
all this trust and hope be now ?
All these thoughts rushed like a flood through the
mind of Gray, as he stood next morning beside the
newly-heaped mound where the dead were buried.
How was he to excuse to Murielle that he was present
at the butchery of her nearest kinsmen ? and, why that
he still adhered to those who so basely slew them under
truce and tryst ?
A shadow fell across the large earthen mound. He
looked up, and his eyes met those of the inflexible
chancellor.
" Good morrow, Sir Patrick !" said the latter, with a
keen glance. "Art moralizing on the mutability of
human things, or the vanity of human greatness?"
" Kay ; my mind was full of neither."
« What then ?"
" I was but thinking that it was a foul deed, my lord ;
this slaughter of two helpless youths, amid the festivity
of a royal banquet."
"Foul!" reiterated the Chancellor, with a louring
brow and flashing eyes.
" As foul as if the heart of Judas planned it; a deed
at which all Scotland, if not all Europe, will cry aloud,"
replied Gray, stoutly.
102 THE CAPTAIN OP THE GUARD.
" Then let them cry, if it pleases them to do so. By
our Lady ! I believe the howl you fear will not go far
beyond Galloway and the Douglas lands. Of yesterday's
act, I take upon myself the entire odium and responsi-
bility, if such there be. Those who know me, and chiefly
He who reads the secrets of every soul, know the great
end I had in view when, in the persons of these mis-
guided boys, I laid the heads of a viperous brood in the
dust. Sir Patrick Gray !" added the chancellor, turning
and stamping on the grave with his spurred heel, " better
it is to have the heart of Douglas lying cold below us,
than exulting that his banner could cast its shadow on
the throne, and that he could rend Scotland in twain, to
become the easier prey of its ancient, bitter, and grasping
enemies. Nay, man, never scowl at me, but ponder well
upon my words; and remember the promise you made
to the king when living, and to the same king when
dead, on that terrible night in the Black Friary, at
Perth."
And with a significant glance, this stern statesman
turned and left him, as if disdaining further defence of
himself.
Gray supposed that the vast train of Douglas would
assemble and depart at once, on learning the tidings of
the execution : thus, if he would see Murielle, he must
visit her without delay. But such a visit was fraught
with danger, so great was the excitement whicb reigned
in the city, where an assault of the castle was considered
imminent.
Carefully divesting himself of everything by which he
might be recognized, he put on a shirt of fine mail, which
fitted him like a kid-glove. Over this he buttoned a
pourpoint of plain black eloth; a steel gorget protected
THE TWENTY-FOURTH OF NOVEMBER. 103
his neck ; and a salade effectually did the same office for
his head, while at the same time it completely concealed
his face; and, armed with his sword and dagger, he sallied
forth into the streets, where the shops and booths were
closed, and at the Cross, the Butter Tron, the doors of
St. Giles's Church, and other places, sullen and excited
groups of citizens were mingled with the wild and un-
ruly billmen, pikemen, and archers, who had come from
the banks of the Nith and the Annan ; or with armed
knights, who rode hurriedly to and fro, briefly questioning
each other, or gathering for angry conference. Many yet
averred that the story of the execution was false, and that
the earl and his brother with Sir Malcolm Fleming were
merely imprisoned in the vaults of that grim fortress
towards which many an angry eye was turned, and
towards which many a gauntleted hand was clenched and
shaken.
But James Achanna spread the truth industriously;
and then a dreadful shout, or many shouts commingling
into one, rang along the streets from mouth to mouth.
" Horse and spear ! A Douglas ! a Douglas ! Fye.
fye ! Vengeance on the king and the pack of sworn
traitors who surround him! Down with his lurdane
burgesses and silken lords ! Death to the regent and
chancellor!"
Such were the cries heard on every hand.
" Oh, had the legate of Home but listened to me!"
exclaimed the abbot of Tongland ; " oh, had his holiness
but favoured me, than had Sathanas been forgiven ; evil
had departed from us, and we had not seen this day of
woe!"
On one hand the great common-bell of the city was
rung by order of Sir Thomas Cranstoun, the provost, to
104
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
summon the people to arms, for their own protection and
that of the king ; on the other, the bells of the churches
were tolling, to call them to prayer ; so that as maDy as
possible, especially " wives and bairns," might be kept
from danger. The blare of trumpets, the twanging of
horns were heard in wynd and alley, with the clatter of
iron hoofs and clinking of steel, as Ormond, Abercorn,
Pompherston, Glendoning, and other feudatories mustered
their " followingsand amid all this hubbub and dismay,
this rushing to and fro of armed, pale-faced, and excited
men in search of sure intelligence, our anxious lover
passed through the city, and reached, unquestioned and
unannounced, the outer gate of the abbot's mansion.
Just as he was about to enter, a man passed out of the
archway.
This person was fully armed in a chain shirt, with a
steel helmet, from the rim of which a camaile, or tippet of
fine steel rings, closely interwoven, fell upon the shoulders
to protect the neck. His gauntlets were of brass ; he
carried a dagger at his girdle, and a ghisarma in his
hands. Through the open helmet, Sir Patrick Gray at
once recognized the malevolent eyes of James Achanna,
the follower of the Douglases, and the paid spy of
Crichton, a thorough Scottish utilitarian of the fifteenth
century.
" Grant me mercy, Sir Patrick," said he, with well-
/eigned concern, " what make you here, at such a time as
this ? Do you bear a charmed life ?"
"You know me, then?" exclaimed the soldier, some-
what disconcerted.
" When you wish to be unknown, you should leave
this golden chain at home," said Achanna, lifting the
links of one worn by Gray above his gorget.
THE TWENTY-FOURTH OF NOVEMBER. 105
" How, sir,—what do you infer 1" asked the latter,
biting his lips with undisguised annoyance, for the chain
in question was a gift from Murielle.
" I have seen it on a fairer neck, but at such a ti me
are you safe beyond the castle gate ?"
" Oh, heed me not, my good man," replied the soldier,
contemptuously; "myhands could always keep my head—
be sure that yours can do the same for you."
" That we shall prove," muttered the other with his
malignant smile, as he passed out, and they separated.
In the adjacent wynd, or alley, he met James of
Avondale and Abercorn, riding down hastily with a troop
of armed followers, all excited almost to madness by the
conflicting statements circulated in the city, while at the
gate of the fortress, where Abercorn had gone, being
anxious to learn the truth, the sole reply was the pointed
cross-bow or hand-gun, levelled at all who approached.
The subtle earl of Abercorn and Avondale knew well
by the advices of his creature, Achanna, that both his
nephews were effectually and for ever removed from his
path, and that as next of kin, the vast possessions of the
house of Douglas—their titles, lands, manors, and fortresses
were his—his beyond recall! But as yet he found it
prudent to affect to doubt the terrible story ; and thus he
had been swaggering over all the city in his armour,
threatening with vengeance, fire and sword, the king,
the regent, the chancellor, and all their adherents.
" Achanna," he exclaimed, curbing his horse, " the
common rumour says my kinsmen were slain yesterday,—
foully murdered by the chancellor and his minions under
form of law."
" Alake, my lord," whined Achanna (who had detailed
to him all the transaction most circumstantially, on the
106
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
preceding evening), " I fear the rumour is but too true ;
woe worth the day ! woe worth the day !"
On this the armed horsemen clenched their mailed
hands, or shook their spears aloft, and muttered deep
oaths in the hollow of their helmets.
" By St. Bryde of Douglas, I would give a year's rental
of Touraine for the head of Livingstone, of Crichton, or
even of the wretch who acted as their doomster !" ex-
claimed Abercorn, still acting as if inspired by grief and
indignation.
" A year's rent of Touraine is a pretty sum," said
Achanna, musingly.
" Ay, ten thousand crowns," added the earl, grimly."
" How freely he spends his new-won property,"
thought Achanna, adding aloud, "the headsman was
masked, 'tis said."
"By whom ?"
" The common rumour."
"Masked was he?" said the laird of Pompherston ; "a
wise precaution, as there is not a Douglas in the land but
will be ready to whet a dagger on his breast bone !"
"Well, sirs, this perilous carle is even now within
arm's length of us."
"Hah ! here, say you, Achanna ?" said Abercom,
" Even so,—Sir Patrick Gray.
" The Captain of the Guard ! ■ Was it he ?"
"Hone else," was the villainous response.
" And he—he," cried twenty voices.
" Is now in the Abbot's House, at the feet of Lady
Murielle, or, perhaps, at the feet of the countess ; I know
not which he loves, for there be some in Galloway who
aver he affects them both."
"In the house here—art thou sure, Achanna?" hissed
THE TWENTY-FOURTH OF NOVEMBER.
107
the earl, through his teeth, while a livid gleam lit his
dark and sinister eyes, for he bitterly hated Gray, and
had other views for Murielle than she had yet foreseen.
Moreover, a ready victim was required to appease the
fury which inspired the turbulent followers of his
slaughtered nephews, and none could be so fit for his
purpose as the Captain of the Guard. " Art thou sure," he
added, "that Gray is here?"
" Sure, as that the breath of Heaven is in my nostrils !"
"By the God of my kin, our task of vengeance is
beginning !" cried Earl James, rising in his stirrups, and
brandishing his sword ; " a rope, a rope ! A Douglas ! a
Douglas ! Ho, Pompherston, Glendoning, Cairnglas,—
let us hang this king's minion at the Market Cross!
Gather a band—beset the house, and watch every
avenue. Achanna, is there a secret stair ?"
" Yes."
" Then beset it too," exclaimed the earl.
" Be that my task," replied Achanna, who with six
armed men repaired to an angle of the abbot's garden,
where, among a mass of ivy which shrouded the wall, he
knew there was concealed a little arched postern, which
formed the external avenue of one of those secret escapes
with which all houses were furnished in those times of
war and tumult.
Abercorn remained in his high-peaked, crimson velvet
saddle, while posting his followers round the mansion;
but Pompherston, Glendoning, and other armed gentle-
men, with a tumultuous party of retainers, Lanarkshire
pikemen, crossbow-men, and wild, half-naked Galwegians,
who brandished axes, swords, and daggers, rushed up the
stone stairs, and spread through the wainscoted apart-
ments, in eager search of the object of their vengeance,
108
the captain of the guard.
for they were in such a mood for blood and slaughter,
they would have slain the household cat had it, un-
luckily, fallen in their way.
But we must return to our luckless lover, who, suspect
ing nothing of all this, had long since passed into the
house, where no one accosted or introduced him, so great
was the confusion which already reigned there.
CHAPTER XV.
a secret stair.
Bluidie was the braid saddle lap,
And bluidie was the crupper;
Sae bluidie as my true love's hands,
When we sat down to supper.
" There's water in the siller dish,
Gae wash thy hands so bluidie ; "
But my love wash'd in the water clear,
And never made it ruddie.
Cbomek.
Sir Patrick Gray reached the wainscoted hall, or
chamber of dais, the arched roof of which was covered, as
already described, with frescoed legends of the Abbey of
Tongland.
There yet stood the little Scottish harp of Murielle,
and a sense of her sweet presence seemed to linger about
it, with the memory of her song—" Sir Hugh le Blond."
There stood the seat of her sister, the dark and beautiful
Margaret, with the velvet tabourettes of her bower-
maidens grouped around it. There was the chair of the
young earl, with one of his leather gloves, and beside it
his little Bologna spaniel asleep.
The gay groups of the other night seemed to rise
A SECRET STAIR.
before the troubled eye of Gray, as he surveyed the
chamber. He sighed bitterly, and could recall wi>h pain-
ful distinctness the faces of the unfortunate earl and the
petulant boy, his brother. He forgave poor little David
all his petulance now.
How difficult to realize the conviction, that within an
hour he had stood by their bloody tomb—poor victims of
misguided ambition, of feudal pride, and political mis-
rule! Yet an age seemed to have elapsed since last he
had seen their faces.
Suddenly he heard a light step and the rustling of a
dress ; a small hand drew rapidly aside the arras which
covered a door, and Murielle, with bloodshot eyes and
her sweet little face pale with tears and loss of sleep,
rushed towards him.
" Oh, Patrick Gray, Patrick Gray!" she exclaimed,
throwing herself in all the abandonment of grief into his
arms, and laying her cold cheek upon his breast; " Oh my
love, my heart—what new miseries, what new crimes and
dangers, are these that come to cast their gloom and
horror upon us ?"
He endeavoured to calm and soothe her; but sud-
denly quitting him, she besought him to leave her, and
return instantly to the castle.
"Leave you, Murielle?" he reiterated, "think of the
time that has elapsed since I have seen you, conversed
with you—since I have been with you alone ; and think
of the time that may elapse ere we meet again."
"Yet go—go," she added, clasping her lianas, *U .you
love me, go !"
" If—ah ! Murielle "
" Leave me—shun me ! this love will end in your
destruction," she exclaimed with wild energy.
110
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
"I am almost inclined to stay, Murielle, and risk
everything, were it but to prove how much I do love
you."
"By making me miserable for ever, by seeing you
perish before me—oh, even as my poor kinsmen pe-
rished !" she added in a piercing accent, while wringing
her pretty hands, and half withdrawing from him.
"You are right, dear Murielle," replied the soldier
gloomily: " I am in the king's service. To brave a
useless danger and inevitable fate, would serve no end j
yet, dearest Murielle, this interview may be our last."
" It may be—I know it in my aching heart; yet go—
go, for the love of God and St. Bryde, lest some fresh
crime be committed, and here. Alas! you know not
Hugh of Ormond, or James of Abercorn, as I do. But
why were our beloved William and David slain V'
" Blame not me, dear Murielle," said Gray, kissing her
pale cheek with affectionate sorrow.
" Oh, Patrick, I do not blame you," replied Murielle, in
a tone of misery.
" Indeed ! Yet you see him before you, and clasp him
to your heart like a wanton, while he has on his hands
the blood of my husband !" exclaimed a clear and ringing
voice. It was that of the scornful, the lovely and re-
vengeful, yet superb Margaret, as she burst upon them
through the parted arras, her pale cheek flushing and
her dark eyes sparkling, but with more of anger than
grief " Yile assassin ! come you here, stained with the
blood of my Douglas—my brave, young, handsome lord
and kinsman—of his poor boy-brother, and that hoary-
headed baron, old Malcolm Fleming, whose sword was
never idle when Scotland or her king required its ser-
vice ! Did it require three such heads to glut the hatred
A SECRET STAIR.
11!
ye bear to the house of Douglas and Galloway % Speak !"
she added, stamping her pretty foot imperiously on the
rush-covered floor; " speak, thou king's minion and
Falkland-bred loon !"
""Peace, sister," moaned Murielle, " oh peace
" Now, grant me patience, God !" exclaimed the furious
countess, stretching her white hands upward—and su-
premely lovely that dark-eyed girl seemed, in her mingled
grief and rage. " Go hence, I say, Murielle Douglas; let
not that man contaminate you by his touch."
" Oh, sister Maggie, you know he loves me dearly, and
I him."
" I know that he has been tutored well in the conven
tional hypocrisy of a court; and that you, Murielle, edu-
cated as you have been in our secluded castle of Thrave,
are no match in art for such as he."
"Maggie," implored Murielle, beginning to writhe
under her sister's severity, " he is generous as gentle, and
gentle as brave ! "
" But save him if you can," said Margaret, bitterly.
" There is, then, danger, madam 1" said Gray, loosening
his poniard in its sheath.
"Do you hear that growing clamour in the street?"
exclaimed Margaret. " Sir Patrick Gray, away, I warn
you. James of Abercorn, Pompherston, and others, all
our most faithful followers, are around the house ; if you
tarry here a moment longer, they will hack you joint
from joint."
" But, madame—countess—Murielle," said Gray, whose
heart was swollen almost to bursting by the vituperative
bitterness of Margaret, " I cannot go without a word of
explanation or defence."
"We seek neither. It is enough for us to know that
112
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
you stood by, in yonder royal shambles on the rock, and
saw Douglas foully murdered, under tryst—stood idly by,
with your sword in its sheath, and neither by word or
blow sought to save the life of him whose cousin you
profess to love. But doubtless, as captain of the king's
hirelings, it was your duty to stand aloof, or guard the
treble murder !"
" Sister," said Murielle imploringly, while her tears fell
fast and hotly, " have we not heard the Abbot of Tong-
land and the Prior of St. Mary's Isle both preach, that
man was born to evil, even as the sparks fly upward;
but that with fortitude, patience, and resignation, we
should bear our cross—the destiny assigned us; and
what are we, to set ourselves in opposition to what they,
the men of God, teach, preach, and practise ?"
" Such cowardly precepts may suit their droning
monks, but not the Douglases of Thrave," responded her
fiery sister. " We have been foully wronged, and I have
sworn by our Lady of Whitekirk—by her son and St.
Bryde—to have a vengeance on this boy-king and his
chancellor,—a vengeance so sure and deep, that every
king in Christendom shall feel his heart tremble within
him, if he dares to wrong a subject as they have wronged
me. Ha !—hear ye that ?" she added, as a strangely
malignant gleam passed over her dark eyes.
" Death to Gray—bring him. forth—a rope ! a rope /"
" 'Tis the voice of Achanna," said Sir Patrick, starting;
while Murielle, on hearing the roar of men's voices and
the clatter of arms without and within the house, uttered
a low cry of terror, and clung to his breast.
By a hasty glance from the window, Gray saw that
the court-yard was full of armed men, who, with drawn
swords and bent cross-bows, were crowding into the
A SECRET STAIR.
113
staircase. He saw James of Abercorn, who was on horse-
back, and who shook his gauntleted hand towards him ;
he saw that the garden, the gate, the wynd, and every
avenue to escape were beset by glittering pikes and par-
tisans, and a cold perspiration burst over his brow at the
sudden prospect of helplessly suffering a cruel and violent
death. His heart was almost too full for words ; but he
kissed Murielle tenderly.
" Long, long, it may be," he said, with a foreboding
sigh, " ere that dear kiss can be repeated—it may be
never; but oh, Murielle, tide what may, let no other
efface it from your beloved lips ! "
The voices and clatter of arms came nearer.
"Save him, sister—save him, Maggie. You may and
can do it !" exclaimed Murielle, rushing to the door of
the large chamber, which she closed, and drew across into
the stone socket the massive oak bar by which it was
secured. She had barely achieved this ere the din of
blows from mailed hands, from sword-hilts, and the butts
of cross-bows and partisans, rang upon it in a shower.
Many fierce voices summoned those who were within
to open; otherwise, that fire would be applied to force
an entrance.
Drawing his sword and dagger, Gray was about to
unclose it, and attempt to hew a passage through them—
an attempt which would inevitably have ended where it
began, as there were a legion of foes without, all thirsting
for vengeance, eager for outrage and homicide—all men
inured to daily turbulence, peril, and bloodshed.
The clatter and uproar increased rapidly, as the num-
bers outside seemed to multiply. The door, though of solid
oak, was yielding fast, and already the blades of several
i
114
THE CAPTAIN OP THE GUARET.
swords were repeatedly passed through it, and withdrawn
to give place to others.
"Save him, Maggie dear—dear sister, save him, in
mercy to me, if not to himself," implored Murielle, cling-
ing to the waist of Margaret, who stood haughtily erect,
like a tragedy-queen, with a sneer upon her proud lip,
while undisguised alarm was now expressed in her fine
eyes, at the prospect of seeing Gray butchered in her
presence, though she hated him in her heart; " save him,
sister, save him !"
" Am I an armed man 1" she asked coldly. " In what
fashion am I to save your minion ?"
" Ha !—by the stair—the secret stair. Oh God, how
that door shakes—in another moment it will yield !—the
secret stair—the abbot gave you the key."
" True," said Margaret, as she drew a key from her
bosom, and tossed it contemptuously on the floor.
With a cry of joy Murielle picked it up, and, seizing
Gray by the hand, said,
"You are saved—quick—come this way."
At the side of one of the deeply-embayed windows she
withdrew the arras, and unlocked a little door which
gave access to a narrow passage, formed in the thickness
of the ancient wall.
" Descend here. There are twenty-one steps; the
passage at the foot leads to the garden, and the wall
there is low. Push open the door at the lower end
among the ivy, and you are free. Heaven, in its goodness,
be your guide !"
" Ah, that I had but twelve pikes of my guard to
scatter this rabble like winnowed chaff! Adieu, Murielle;
I shall live and escape, if I can ! If not, look from your
A SECRET STAIR.
115
window, my love—my dear, dear love—and you shall see
how toughly a brave and loyal gentleman can die ! "
With these words, and full of desperate thoughts, Gray
rushed down the secret stair, while Murielle, with a sigh
almost of rapture, locked the door. Then, with a prayer
of thankfulness, she thrust the key into her bosom ; but,
fearing it might not be quite safe even there, she cast it
into the great fire of coals and oak roots which burned
on the hearth.
At that moment the door was burst open, and the tall
grim laird of Pompherston, with his helmet open and his
sword drawn, rushed in, with a confused mob of pikemen
and archers at his back.
On seeing only the countess and her sister, he and his
flushed followers seemed perplexed, and turned away to
prosecute their search elsewhere. But soon the clash of
weapons and shouts of exultation and ferocity in the
garden drew all there to join the fray.
Murielle sprang to the nearest window, and oh, what a
sight she saw there !
Sir Patrick Gray issuing from the doorway of the
secret passage, covered with blood and wounds ; his
pourpoint rent and torn; his sword and dagger bloody,
after a combat maintained in the dark against Achanna
and six others, who, as already related, had beset the way
and attacked him, with terrible advantage, in the obscu-
rity, which concealed alike their number and their deadly
purpose.
Undismayed, with his sword in his right hand and a
long Scottish dagger in his left, Gray rushed upon his
assailants, and they quickly parted before him ; but only
to close in his rear, while fresh foes met him in front.
What a sight for Murielle to gaze upon, while, gasping
T St
11G THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
and shrieking, she clung to the iron bars of the hall win-
dow, and surveyed the terrible scene below, where one
poor human life was struggling so nobly and so desperately
for existence against so many !
Brave heart ! he will sell that life dearly, for it is
doubly valuable now. Youth and love—the love of
Murielle—are his, and for both he has to live and to
conquer!
No slogan or shout, entreaty or threat, are uttered by
him, as, with teeth clenched, brows knit, and every nerve
and fibre strained, he stabs and shreds and hews about
him, trampling underfoot those who fall beneath his
hand.
He casts one brief and despairing glance at the win-
dow, for he knows that she is there; and to the horror
of being thus helplessly butchered by the kinsmen of
Murielle, is added the bitter consciousness that she beholds
it, alike unable to assist or save him.
He is the aim of a hundred flashing weapons and infu-
riated men, who, in their blind eagerness to destroy him,
impede and inflict severe wounds on each other.
His pourpoint hangs from his shoulders in rags, and
more than one long arrow dangles by its barbed point
from his shirt of mail. Now his helmet is struck from
his head ; an exulting cheer rises from the rabble that
surge around him ; but still he towers above them like
a rock, and hews another, another, and another down !
Now, as he concentrates all his energies, the crowd
parts before him; he has reached the outer gate, and
then a cry for " rescue " rises in the street beyond.
He reels, he staggers to his knee !
Yet up he springs again. Heavens ! there is a long
and bloody streak across his pallid face; and now his
A SECRET STAIR.
117
sword-blade breaks; but he wrests another from an
assailant, whom he hurls to the earth and treads under
foot, lest he should rise and fight again !
On, on yet, and now he has fought his way through
the gate, beyond which, on horseback, sits grim Earl
James of Abercorn, like a mailed statue, surveying with
fierce eyes this appalling scene ; and now, faint with
wounds and loss of blood, Gray staggers like a dying man
towards him, and clutches his stirrup-leather.
"James of Abercorn," he cries, "by your knighthood,
by God's mercy and the honour of your name, save
me !"
But, with the smile of a demon, James the Gross raises
his ponderous ghisarma, and strikes him twice on his bare
head and upturned despairing face, which in a moment
are covered with blood.
" Murielle ! Murielle !" exclaims Gray, as he sinks, to
all appearance, lifeless in the street; and then the wild
rabble sweep over him like a human flood, to complete
his destruction.
On beholding this last barbarous act, a shriek burst
even from the countess, and she turned to her sister ;
but, alas! poor Murielle had long since sunk insensible
on the cushioned window-seat.
118
the captain of the guard.
CHAPTER XYI.
the castle of thrave
Sad airs like those she heard in infancy,
Fell on her soul and filled her eyes with teaes ;
And recollections came of happier years,
Thronging from all the cells of memory.
Barry Cornwall.
More than a year had elapsed since the terrible scene
with which the preceding chapter has closed.
It was the sweet season of summer. A soft wind was
passing over the pastoral uplands of Galloway, and rippling
the black water of the Dee where it swept round the
green islet on which stands the great feudal fortress of
Thrave. It rippled, in some places, the growing corn-
fields, in others, the greener wild grass, bearing with it
the freshness of the dew that loaded the leaves of the way-
side flowers (for a shower had just fallen), with the per-
fume of the honeycomb, of the mountain bee that hum-
med over the yellow broom or purple heather-bells, on
the rugged braes of Balmaghie; or over the crimson cups
of the wild roses overhanging the brawling burn that
rushed through bank and scaur to Woodhall Loch.
It was a summer noon ; the sunny shower had passed
away, and the rose-linnet, the wild mavis, and the gold-
spink sang merrily on every bush and bank; and the
bright sun cast the great shadow of the castle of Thrave
upon the Dee, which moats it round.
There now dwelt Murielle, and others who have borne
a part in our story, though a change had come over their
position in life.
The Lord Chancellor Crichton had scarcely foreseen the
THE CASTLE OP THRAVE.
119
immediate consequences of that " black dinour" in the
castle of Edinburgh—a deed of detestable cruelty, though
deemed politic in the spirit of the time. It naturally
excited the deep-rooted hatred and fierce indignation of
the numerous vassalage and powerful friends of the house
of Douglas; while the youth of the noble victims on
one hand, with the age and valour of Sir Malcolm
Fleming on the other, together with the cold-blooded
treachery which lured them all to a doom so disastrous—
a mock trial and execution in the young king's presence,
despite his tears and entreaties—all conduced to excite a
strong sympathy among the people, who only remembered
the worth and loyalty of their ancestors, and forgot those
excesses, or were ignorant of that mad ambition, which
had filled with jealousy the ministers of James the
Second.
But while treasuring this deed of blood in their re-
sentful hearts, and scheming for the downfall of the
regent and chancellor, the Douglases were too wary now
to trust themselves out of their own fastnesses, or to
take immediate revenge.
The dukedom of Touraine and the county of Lon-
gueville had reverted to the crown of France; but James
the Gross, earl of Abercorn and Avondale, through whose
connivance the trial and execution of his kinsmen took
place, succeeded quietly to all their Scottish estates.
Then, to prevent the dismemberment of a territory so
princely, and to preserve to the house of Douglas the
Countess Margaret's portion, which comprehended Gal-
loway, "Wigton, Balvenie, Ormond, and Annandale, on the
promise of obtaining a papal dispensation, through the
good offices of the abbot of Tongland, she consented to
espouse Earl James, that they might the better plot their
120
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
vengeance and unite their power against the regent and
chancellor, who, by this unexpected consolidation, saw
their views baffled, and the family of Douglas, within six
months, restored to its former strength and splendour.
Thus, twice before her twentieth year, had the Fair
Maid of Galloway worn a wreath of roses and lucky
four-leaved clover, which formed then the bridal chaplet.
The young lord of her great fortress by the Dee had passed
away; yet it seemed strange he had left no vacancy of
heart or hearth behind him : for his place had been
rapidly filled by another; and none knew Margaret's
secret thoughts.
In the vast but solitary castle of Thrave, Murielle
had long wept for her lover, and mourned him as one
who was dead. "Whether he had been slain outright, or
been simply but barbarously mutilated, she had no
means of ascertaining, as the countess and her armed
train had taken their departure from Edinburgh within
an hour after the fatal conflict; and since then she had
resided in Thrave, the most remote and strong of all her
many fortresses.
Since that fatal day, Murielle had felt as if her little
heart had been crushed by a hand of steel; while the
society of the stern, malevolent, and gloomy Earl James,
who was now lord of all their heritage, and as such assumed
to be the master of her hand and destiny—a mastery in
which he was joined by her proud, fiery, and, at times,
cruel sister—made her long for a refuge among the Bene-
dictine nuns of Lincluden; and she as often wished, in
the sorrow and bitterness of her soul, that she were at
rest among the graves of her forefathers, in Melrose or
Dundrennan. She never saw the earl without expe-
riencing a shudder of horror and aversion, fov the memory
THE CASTLE OF THRAVE.
121
of that terrible day in Edinburgh was ever before her 5
her lover's upturned face, with its despairing eyes, im-
ploring pity from the fierce noble who smote him down
with his bloody ghisarma, as he would have done a
reptile.
In that age there were no newspapers; no posts or
telegraphs ; no books or printing, for it was twenty years
before Caxton set his first types for Raoul le Fevre;
thus the library of the great countess was limited to her
missal, and a little whity-brown volume in which she
engrossed recipes and so forth. Save a few games of hazard,
there were no in-door amusements, or food for the mind.
How wearily and drearily must the days have been passed
by the dwellers in those old Scottish castles, secluded in
roadless and mountain districts, when there was peace
(which was seldom), and no fighting, burning, or hanging
going on !
No tidings came from the court or capital to Thrave,
save the strange and floating rumours brought by a
passing harper on his way towards Ireland or the south;
or by a cunning pardoner, travelling with his holy wares
and relics to Tongland, Dundrennan, or St. Mary Isle;
or by an armed mosstrooper, in his steel cap and vam-
braces; or a bein-bonnet laird, or gudeman (i.e. one who
holds his land from a baron), on his Galloway cob, passing
to or from the next burgh town, who, after bartering his
beef, butter, and eggs, for a bilbo or suit of harness,
tarried at lordly Thrave, belated or storm-stayed.
Men travelled little then by night in Scotland. Yast
districts were almost roadless ; and deep rivers, the fabled
abode of the mischievous kelpie and dreadful water-horse>
were bridgeless, and the fords were few and precarious.
Lawless mosstroopers, broken men, and wandering gipsies
122'
THE CAPTAIN OP THE GUAED.
rendered the paths insecure; nor were supernatural
terrors wanting, in the shapes of bogles, spunkies, wraiths,
and fairies, to render the ingle-lum of the nearest farm,
the refectory of a monastery, or the hall of a baron or
landholder an acceptable refuge after dark.
Of the old abbot of Tongland the inhabitants of
Thrave had seen little. He had secluded himself in his
abbey, which lay in a deep and woody hollow formed
by the Dee, and adjoining the clachan which slopes down
to the verge of the stream—for so they named their
villages in Celtic Galloway. There he spent day after
day entrenched among illuminated manuscripts and yellow
parchments, searching, writing, quoting, collating, and
preparing anew his application to Pope Eugene, that the
Prince of Darkness might be forgiven, so that evil and
discord in the world might cease for ever.
On the eccentric, but kind old abbot, Murielle rested
all her hope for succour, information, advice, and assist-
ance; but he failed to obtain authentic tidings of her
lover's fate. Thus, in that great castle, which was crowded
by armed men, she pined and sorrowed in secret, without
a friend.
Meanwhile quantities of armour, helmets, corslets,
spurs, and bridles, that came in hampers by ships from
Holland, bundles of arrows and spears brought on horse-
back from Dumfries to the arsenal in the barbican, in-
dicated the events that were on the tapis. Many couriers,
such as Pompherston, Glendoning, Achanna, and Sir Alan
Lauder, were dispatched in all directions under cloud of
night, while others were arriving with secret parchments,
and slips of paper concealed in the lining of their doublets,
the sheaths of their daggers, and the tops of their gam-
badoes ; missives from the turbulent John, earl of Boss,
the castle op thraye.
123
lord of the isles ; from Sir Magnus Redmain, the English
governor of Berwick ; from Robert, the exiled and intri-
guing duke of Albany; from John Garm Stewart, of
Athole; from Christian X, count of Oldenburg and king
of Norway: and all these signs filled Murielle with
anxiety and alarm, as they indicated the magnitude of
the schemes and intrigues in which the fierce and subtle
Earl James and her bold and ambitious sister were
engaged, and the designs they were forming against the
regent, the chancellor, the unfortunate people, and the
young and innocent king.
CHAPTER XVII.
the bower chamber.
The summer brook flows in the bed
The winter torrent tore asunder ;
The skylark's gentle wings are spread
Where walk'd the lightning and the thunder:
And thus you'll find the sternest soul,
The gayest tenderness concealing ;
And minds that seem to mock control
Are order'd by some fairy feeling.
Poems by Thomas Davis.
It was, as related, a summer noon.
Earl James of Douglas, whilom of Abercorn and
Avondale, still in half rebellion against a king and court
from both of which he kept sullenly aloof, was hawking
on the bank of the Carlinwark Loch, with Sir Alan
Lauder, Achanna, and other friends, while the countess
was in her bower-chamber with Murielle and other ladies
of her household.
As a reward for his services, Achanna, that worthy
124
THE CAPTAIN OP THE GUARD.
Scottish liberal and utilitarian of the year of grace 1441,
had received a purse of gold from the chancellor, and
from Abercorn the office of seneschal of Thrave. Like
many of his countrymen in more modern times, master
James Achanna was a noisy professor of religion, and
never missed a mass or service of his church; he wore
an enormous rosary, and crossed himself at least a hundred
times daily when any one was present. Scotland has
always been peculiarly unfortunate in producing such
pretenders; and doubtless, had James Achanna lived
now, the same cunning and coldness of heart, the same
selfishness of purpose and anti-nationality which he pos-
sessed, would have brought him fortune, place, or power,
political, and assuredly provincial fame; but, under
James II., he was merely a hireling swordsman, a smooth-
tongued intriguer, and occasionally a " rowdy " in a suit
of armour.
The windows of the bower chamber were open, and
afforded an "ample view of the far-stretching pastoral
landscape, through which the Dee, between banks
shrouded by groves of beech and willow, the fragrant
hawthorn, or those old oaks which, ages ago, had echoed
to the horn of the great crusader, Alan, lord of Galloway,
wound to pour its waters in the Solway Firth. Through
the deep and arched embayments in the old castle wall,
the summer sunshine shed a flood of radiance upon
the arched necks, the white hands, and glossy tresses
of the group of handsome girls who drew their tabou-
rettes around the chair of the Countess Margaret, who
had just entered; for, with few exceptions, these damoi-
selles in silk and costly attire were the same who had
attended her o» that unhappy visit to Edinburgh in the
November of 1440.
THE BOWER CHAMBER.
125
They were all the daughters of barons and knights—
Maud Douglas of Pompherston, a lovely girl with I * .Ik
hair, dark hazel eyes, and a queenly bearing ; Mamia
Douglas of Glendoning, whose auburn hair won her the
name of the Caillecm Rua among the Galwegians; Lady
Jean of the Cairnglas, and the three daughters of Sir
Alan of the Bass, all lassies with " lint white locks," and
others, to the number of twelve, were plying their needles
busily; but Murielle sat apart, and, with her cheek rest-
ing on the palm of her hand, gazed listlessly upon the
hazy landscape that spread in the summer sunshine far
away from below the castle wall.
The work on which those ladies were busy was one of
those huge pieces of tapestry in the manufacture of
which the fair ones of those days delighted, and, when
completed, it was to be a donation to the abbot of Tong-
land on Yew Year's Day, 1442, as it represented the life
and miracles of St. Bryde (or Bridget), the patron of the
house of Douglas j and this great web spread over all the
knees and daintily-slippered feet of the fair workers, as it
fell in waves along the floor of polished oak.
Therein their needles had depicted the saint in her
little cell under a large oak at Kildara, in Munster,
where the wild ducks that swam in the Bog of Allen
and the birds that flew over the Curragh, alike obeyed
her voice, and went and came at her command; and
there, too, was shown how, at her desire, the milk of the
cows on the Wicklow hills became butter, and how, when
she prayed, it was multiplied threefold for the use of the
poor; and other miracles long since forgotten.
This year had been memorable for prodigies. On the
17th of March, says Sir James Balfour, there appeared
" three suns in the firmament at the noontyde of the day;
126 THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
and in Auguste a fearfull comett, having a crowned sword
hanging from it." Where one sun is seldom seen, three
must have produced an unusual effect; so these and
similar matters formed the staple topics for discussion
among the ladies of the countess, who unanimously came
to the conclusion that " something terrible and startling
would certainly ensue ; but what that might be none
could say—a murrain among the cattle, a famine in the
Merse, a royal raid into Galloway, an invasion by the
English—perhaps the death of the chancellor !"
" The last is not likely," said Maud 'of Pompherston,
throwing back her heavy black braided hair behind the
whitest and smallest of ears.
" Why ?" asked all.
" I mean, if the tidings be true which my father heard
yesterday at the cross of Dumfries."
"What did he hear % asked the countess sharply,
while the workers paused, and all their eyes were bent
on Maud.
"That the heralds had proclaimed at the crosses of
Edinburgh, Stirling, and Scone, that—that the king —"
The poor girl hesitated, for the bold flashing eye of the
countess fell darkly on her, and its expression at times
was rather bewildering.
"A boy of thirteen years," said Margaret bitterly.
" Well, that the king "
" Has been pleased "
" Deluded, you mean."
" To create the chancellor Lord Crichton of Crichton
in Lothian. Rumour added that his youngest son,
George, would soon be made earl of Caithness, in place of
the forfeited Earl Alan, who was killed ten years ago at
the battle of Inverlochie."
THE BOWER CHAMBER.
127
" Anything more ?" asked Margaret, beating the floor
with her foot.
" The regent is to be Lord Livingstone of Callendar."
" Did the heralds not add that he granted them a coat
of augmentation to their arms?" said Margaret, with
hate in her eye, and the smile of a devil on her lovely
lip3—" a headsman's axe and block, all bloody and proper !
"Well, well 3 so be it. We'll powder these new-fangled
coronets with tears and the dust of death ere another yule
be past—please Heaven, we shall!"
" 'Tis said, too, that the king is about to be married to
a fair lady of Flanders."
" This child !—who—who ?" asked the ladies together.
" I wot not," said Maud; and the girls laughed
loudly.
" Little Maggie Lauder of the Bass would suit him
better, in years at least," said the countess, as she caressed
the lint white locks of Sir Alan's youngest daughter, a
girl of some nine years or so. " In sooth, cousin, you
have a rare stock of news."
" Countess, I have more still."
" More ?"
" The heritable sheriff of Perth, Sir William Ruthven
of that ilk, accompanied by a party of the king's guard,
have marched into Athole, and there captured John Gorm
Stewart."
" A friend and ally of my husband, who had a message
from him not ten days ago—he captured him, say you ?"
" Ay, and slew him."
" John of Athole slain ? "
" Yes, on the north Inch of Perth, with thirty of his
followers 3 but Ruthven was also killed, and MacLellan
and Gray, the commanders of the King's Guard, were
wounded."
128
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
" The fools ! to fight each other, when both were allies
of ours; for this sheriff of Perth has a daughter wedded
to George Douglas, of Leswalt, here in Galloway. So
Gray was wounded—and the jesting MacLellan, too ?"
On first hearing these names, the hitherto listless
Murielle started, and turned to Maud Douglas; but
feared to ask the question that seemed to burn her
tongue.
"Is aught wrong, sister, that you start thus?" asked
Margaret, half contemptuously.
" No—why do you ask ?" said Murielle timidly.
" I thought a gnat had stung you."
" Oh, it was Andrew Gray, of Balgarno, who was
wounded," said Maud good-naturedly, as she turned in
haste to Murielle, whose anxiety she wished to relieve.
" Was your father sure of this ?" asked the countess.
" The Provost of Dumfries had the surest tidings."
Margaret smiled bitterly at her pale sister.
" Alas !" thought the latter, in her heart, " he is not
spoken of. Oh, can he be dead, that others have led
where he was wont to lead?"
After a pause,
" Murielle," said the countess, with some asperity, " if
you will not work with us, take your harp, and sing.
Occupation will at times divert the mind, even from its
most bitter thoughts. Please to give us the ballad of
' Sir Hugh le Blonde.' "
The ladies urged her to do so, but she replied briefly
and wearily,—
"Under favour, I cannot sing."
" You cannot sing ?" reiterated the countess, pausing
in her work, and gazing at Murielle with her full black
eyes, above which hung the wavy fringe of her absurdly
lofty horned head-dress.
THE BOWER CHAMBER.
129
" I cannot sing that ballad—at least, just now."
" And wherefore ?"
" I have forgotten it," said she, turning to the window.
"Do you remember when last you sang it?" asked
Maud Douglas kindly, in a low voice.
" Oh yes, dear Maud," said Murielle, as her soft eyes
filled with tears at the recollection of that night in the
house of the abbot at Edinburgh, where—outwardly, at
least—they all seemed so happy, and where her lover
hung over her, as she played and sang fort him, and him
only.
The impetuous young countess, a little despot in her
own household, grew weary of her sister's silence and
reserve, for Murielle's attachment was no secret to the
family; she tossed aside the tapestry, and desired
Mariota, the Caillean Rua, to summon her pages and a
musician, that they might dance and practise the pavan,
which was a slow and stately measure then in fashion,
and which took its name from the peacock, because it
was danced by knights in their mantles and ladies in
their trains ; but Murielle said gently, but firmly, as she
withdrew to a corbelled stone balcony, upon which the
windows of the bower-chamber opened,—
" Excuse me, dear Maggie, I pray you; but I am
not in the mood either to dance or sing."
Irritated still more by this, Margaret followed, and
found her with her face bowed upon the parapet, and
•peeping bitterly.
K
130
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE BALCONY.
The nymph must lose her female Mead,
If more admired than she ;
But where will fierce contention end,
If flowers can disagree ?—Cowper.
" Is it so with you ?" said the countess, roughly grasping
her arm; " is it so—still mourning for that scurvy captain
of the king's morris-pikes ? "
" Morris-pikes ! Oh, sister, can you compare to mum-
mers, the men who formed the van at Piperden ?"
" Ay, where a Douglas routed Piercy—a service, like
others, comiEitted to oblivion now," was the bitter
response.
Murielle wept in silence, while her haughty sister con-
tinued to regard her with an expression in her eyes very
much akin to disdain.
The poor girl had frequently been fretted and galled by
hearing a much-loved name—alas! it might only be a
much-revered memory—reviled; yet she bore it meekly,
hoping daily for a change. But weeks became months,
and months became seasons, yet no change came in the
bearing of her sister; which, always haughty, turned at
times violent and tempestuous.
The proud Margaret felt that she had done a
wrong action by her second espousal, which had raised
doubts in her mind that even the papal dispensation
might fail to dispel; and while she writhed under this
conviction, and longed for vengeance on the slayers of
that handsome lover and boy-husband—whom she secretly
THE BALCONY.
131
mourned, even when in the arms of the subtle Earl
James, she felt—she knew not why—irritated, and at
times exasperated, by the meek, quiet, and passive tenor
of Murielle's existence.
" Tears still," she resumed, " always tears ; but beware
how the earl finds you thus."
" Oh, Margaret, I have studied to conceal my living
sorrow from him—from you—from all."
" But in vain, for all have seen it. There is not a
trencher-boy in the kitchen, or a groom in the stables,
but -knows of it as well as I do."
"Have you never considered, sister, what a terrible
thing it is to have to forget—to strive at crushing all
memory' of the past—all hope for the future ; to rend
from the heart a love it has cherished for years ?"
" Years !" reiterated Margaret, with an angry laugh;
" you are but eighteen, Murielle." ,
" And you not twenty."
" Yet I have wept for a dead husband."
" And been consoled," was the unwise reply.
Margaret's cheek grew white with suppressed passion
at the inference which might be drawn from this casual
remark ; but she said, emphatically,—
" Enough of this; my husband, to strengthen his
house, has resolved that you shall become the bride of
one who is second to none in Scotland; and he has
sworn it on the cross of his sword, by God and St. Bryde,
that it shall be so, even should he chain you to the altar-
steps, in Tongland Abbey kirk."
" Oh, Maggie," said Murielle, in a piercing voice, " do
not talk to me thus. I have given my heart into the
keeping of Patrick Gray, and death itself cannot restore
it to me, or rend it from him. Trustingly I gave it, dear
k 2
132
THE CAPTAIN OF THE -GUARD.
sister, yonder—yonder, at the three auld thorns of the
Carlinwark; so be merciful to me, for no better, fonder,
or purer Iotc than his, was ever offered up to woman."
"A king's minion!" said the countess, spitefully; " but
it is the will of God you shall never be this."
" Never! Say not so; it sounds like a prophecy.
Never "
" But as the earl, my husband, has sworn "
" Oh, impiety !"
" The bride of a nobler and better."
" A better, say you ?" exclaimed Murielle, with an
angry laugh.
" Dispute it if you can—Robert, duke of Albany."
" An outlawed traitor," said Murielle, warming in her
turn ; "is this your husband's scheme ?"
"Yes, a scheme formed for your honour."
" It is a bold one."
"Most of his schemes are so," replied Margaret,
quietly.
" Duke Robert is contracted to a daughter of
Charles VII. of France," said Murielle, taking courage.
" The same power that permitted my second marriage,
can annul his contract, and give him back his troth, from
Mademoiselle Radegonde."
" Well, rather than break mine, and be his bride, sister,
you shall see me stretched in Tongland Abbey kirk, as
cold as the marble tombs that lie there !"
"We shall see," replied Margaret, biting her cherry-
like nether lip, and stamping her foot in growing
wrath; but Murielle threw her white arms round her
neck, and said plaintively,—
" You do not, you cannot mean all you say, Maggie.
Ah, do not scold, when you should guide and aid me."
THE BALCONY.
133
" Is it not my desire to see you happy ?"
" Yes," sobbed Murielle ; " I know, I hope that it Is.4*
" And my husband's ?"
"My kinsman, the earl, is a fearsome man!" said
Murielle, with an ill-repressed shudder.
" Have I not striven for years to be your guide, your
friend, your comforter, and now "
"You would undo all the past, by making me the
wife of the exiled Albany, that your husband's terrible
aims and ends may be furthered, his feudal power and
splendour increased."
" By raising you, perhaps, to "—the countess paused—
"to a throne, little fool!"
" A throne ?" reiterated Murielle, in absolute bewilder-
ment.
" Yes, a throne," said Margaret, in a low voice, as she
bent her black flashing eyes close to her startled sister's
face ; " where can all this leaguing and combination with
Henry of England, Christian of Oldenburg, John of the
Isles, and with so many discontented barons, end, but in
the destruction of Livingstone, of Crichton, and of that
boy-king, in whose name they slew the earl of Douglas?"
" Saint Mary keep us, sister; but this is murder,
treason, regicide !" said Murielle, in terror and in-
credulity.
" I am speaking in our castle of Thrave," said the coun-
tess, significantly, as she patted the strong rampart with
her white jewelled hand; " but I am unwise in talking
to you of schemes, the magnitude of which you cannot
comprehend, and the daring of which appals you."
" Oh, Maggie, all this can end but in one way."
" How?"
" Destruction, forfeiture, and death !"
134
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUAKD.
" We shall see," replied the countess, calmly smoothing
back her silky hair; " but to resume about this Patrick
Gray—who is he, that he should aspire to love my sister,
the daughter of a line of powerful earls ?"
"He is a gentleman of stainless reputation, the trusted
subject of the late king and of his son ; a loyal soldier,
whom, if I choose, I might marry to-morrow, and defy
you all!" said Murielle, angrily.
Margaret now laughed in good earnest at her sister.
"Defy us?" she exclaimed; "lassie, you have gone
crazy ! I speak not of Ormond, of Pompherston, of Glen-
doning; but know you not that the smallest laird who
bears our name could muster lances enough to harry his
father's nest at Foulis, level his tower to the ground-
stone, and swing his whole generation on the nearest
tree?"
Murielle knew fully the truth of this, but she felt an
increasing emotion of anger at the injustice and control
to which she was so bluntly subjected, and now her
haughty sister spoke again.
" Bear this in mind, that thrice has Earl J ames sworn
by his most sacred oath, God, and his father's bones
' that our heather lintie, Murielle, shall be the bride of
Albany, and sib to the throne, if not one day upon it;' so
cease to think more of this lover of yours, who, by the
bye, I believe, once loved me."
"Loved you!" exclaimed Murielle, in a breathless
voice ; " you, Margaret ?"
" Yes," continued the imperious beauty, with con-
fidence.
" He ever admired you, and as my sister, felt a friend-
ship for you; but be assured that his dear heart never
wandered from me," was the equally confident reply.
a feudal lord.
135
"You are a child !" retorted the countess.
" Perhaps I am, to endure all this petty tyranny ; but
a day may come—there are times when even a poor worm
may turn."
" But think no more of him, I command you, for he is
better as he is, dead, than living to be the rival of
Robert, duke of Albany."
"Bo not tell me, sister, that he was slain," said
Murielie, in an imploring voice, while, her tears again
fell fast; " he is not dead. I know that he is not dead !"
"You know V said Margaret, changing colour.
"Yes."
" Indeed—how V
" Because I am living still!" replied Murielie, with
divine confidence and hope.
CHAPTER XIX.
A feudal lord.
And joy is mine
When the strong castles besieged shake,
And walls uprooted, totter and quake,
And I see the foemen join,
On the moated shore all compass'd round
With palisade and guarded mound.
Lays op the: Minnesingers.
The result of this conversation, the wild and daring
schemes of ambition and revenge it unfolded,—schemes of
which she was to be made the tool and the victim, filled
Murielie with alarm, and made her more than ever re-
solve to seek refuge in a convent; but an escape from
the guarded castle of Thrave was not a matter to be
136
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
easily accomplished, as its garrison, formed of the earl's
most faithful "retainers, was (as we are told in the
third of volume of ' Caledonia'), never less than one
thousand armed men.n
A recent writer says, "in Scotland, but a hundred
years ago, the head of a family was paramount, and house-
hold discipline was wielded without mercy." If such
was the case a hundred years ago, it was exercised with
greater rigour in the days of the second James.
So poor little Murielle found Thrave with all its
splendour, a veritable prison, and the earl, her brother-in-
law, a haughty and exacting tyrant.
Thrave, his greatest stronghold, was built upon an
island of twenty acres in extent, formed by the rough
and rapid Dee, situated about ten miles above its estuary,
and thirty from its source, which is among the wooded
hills of Minnigaff.
There on that islet the crusader Alan IY., lord of
Galloway and constable of Scotland, had a fortress, and
thereon, in after times, the Black Knight of Liddesdale,
the comrade of Wallace and Bruce, reared the present
castle of Thrave, a vast pile, the donjon of which is yet
seventy feet in height, with walls eight feet in thickness,
built of common stone from the adjacent moors.
The first story of this great pile consisted of the larder,
the arsenals, and the dungeon, where many a chained
wretch has wept during the hours that intervened
between time and eternity.
In the second story were the apartments of the men-
at-arms, the warders, grooms, and pages.
The third contained the apartments of the baron, his
family, their guests, and the ladies' bower-chamber, with
one apartment long secluded, that in which Archibald,
A FEUDAL LORD.
137
earl of Douglas and lord of Galloway,—he whose second
son won by his valour the titles of duke of Spruce and
prince of Dantzig, died on the 3rd of February, 1400.
Small Gothic windows gave light to these upper chambers,
and narrow slits and loopholes to the lower.
A square barbican and four round flanking towers,
with a deep fosse and drawbridge, formed the external
barrier. After passing these, the only entrance to the
keep was by a door placed so high in the wall that it
opened on the second floor, and this strange mode of
access was further secured by a small portcullis, grooved
into the solid stone, the work of " the Brawny MacKim,"
the hereditary smith of the family.
To victual this stronghold each of the twenty-eight
parishes which form the stewardry of Kirkcudbright had
to contribute a Lardner-mart-cow at Martinmas, for
winter provisions; and the last attempt to levy these
twenty-eight cattle was made in 1747, by William
Maxwell, of Nithsdale.
In the front wall of the great tower, and immediately
above the gateway, which bore all the armorial achieve-
ments of the proud and lordly owners, there still projects
a large granite block, named the gallows knob, or hanging-
stone, which, in the olden time, was seldom without its
tassel, as the moss-troopers phrased it.
"Lest this barbarous emblem of feudal power should
be minus its usual decoration," says a local historian,
" when putrefaction became offensive before the corpse
was cut down, if a malefactor was not in custody to be
tucked up, it was replenished by some unoffending vassal.
The charnel into which these victims were thrown is
to this day named the c gallows slot,' and notwith-
standing the time that has elapsed since the downfall of
138
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
tlie house of Douglas in Galloway, human bones in
abundance were turned up when the present highway was
made through it there in the year 1800."
Such was the grim feudal dwelling where now Murielle
Douglas found herself an inmate,—almost [a prisoner,—
foredoomed to be the tool, perhaps the victim, of the dark
plots and of the ambition and pride of its lord and owner,
whose general character the following anecdote will amply
illustrate*
As Steward of Kirkcudbright and Lord Warden of the
Western Marches, he ordered James Achanna, with a
strong and well-armed band, to apprehend Sir Herbert
Herries of Terregles, a gentleman of ancient family, who
had large possessions in the stewardry, and bring him
prisoner to Thrave, despite the tears of his daughter,
Lady Maxwell, of Carlaveroc, and the entreaties of his
youngest son, who was rector of Kirkpatrick.
He was oddly charged with " daring to recover a por-
tion of his own property, which had been appropriated
by Achanna and other lawless followers of the house of
Douglas, and further, of resisting them in arms."
Sir Herbert was a man of high courage and probity,
who had given himself as a hostage to England for the
ransom of James I. He had been a commissioner for
the trial of Murdoch, duke of Albany, father of that
Duke Robert who was now the bete noir of Murielle ; and
he had lately been one of the ambassadors who had gone
to France to arrange the marriage of the gentle and
unfortunate Margaret of Scotland with the Dauphin,
afterwards Louis XI., the French Hero, of terrible
memory.
When brought before Douglas, in the hall, he was sur-
veyed with stern and haughty malevolence.
A FEUDAL LOUD.
139
" Your little blockhouse of Terregles," said the earl,
mockingly, as he lounged in his canopied chair, "in
common with other fortlets of the petty barons of
Galloway, is only occasionally decked with a dangling
villain, whereas our gallows knob of Thrave has not been
without a tassel for fifty yea/rs} and so it shall be while
-Dalbeattie wood grows and the Urr water runs ! "
" True," replied Terregles ; " and one who was my
henchman, myjfoster-brother, and my most faithful friend,
taken by your ruthless wretch Achanna, is hanging there
at this moment."
" And having hung the usual time, he shall now be
removed to make way for his master."
" Earl Douglas, you dare not!" exclaimed Sir Herbert,
starting forward.
" Dare not! ha ! ha ! and why ?"
" I am the king's liege man, and a baron of parlia-
ment ! "
" Is that all you can urge ?" asked Douglas, still
mocking.
"Ho "
" "What more 1"
"Even now a loyal herald is at the gate, with an
express order for my release."
" Mahoun ! its coming has sealed your doom. Achanna,
tear off his ruff, and replace it with a hempen cravat," was
the stern order of Douglas; so the unfortunate Sir
Herbert was instantly hanged in his armour from the
gallows knob, while the king's herald was ignominiously
expelled.
Yet this fierce and unscrupulous lord paid large sums
to the Church for masses for the souls of his ancestors,
and had periodical fits of prayer and fasting, which were
140
the captain of the guard.
very troublesome, alike to his cooks and hungry retainers.
At times he trembled for bad news if he saw a crow in
his path, and crossed himself if he saw the new moon for
the first time through a window. He smeared himself,
like Achanna, with ashes on Ash Wednesday, and ate
hot cross-buns with due reverence on Good Friday ; and
to him the abbot of Tongland, as keeper of the avenue
to heaven, or the other place, was alternately a demigod
to worship or a bugbear to avoid. Yet, withal, he had
connived with Crichton and the regent in the destruc-
tion of his kinsmen, and wedded the wealthy widow of
Earl William, but consoled himself with the solemn
dispensation of Pope Eugene IV., who, however, was
then deposed by the Council of Basle.
CHAPTER XX.
the mission.
Of this great voyage which you undertake,
Much by his skill and much by my advice
Hath he foreknown, and welcome for my sake
You both shall be, the man is kind and wise.
Fairfax's Tasso.
Though left by the Douglases as dead upon the street,
Sir Patrick Gray survived the horrors of the tumult at
the Abbot's Gate; and though covered with severe
wounds, inflicted by swords, daggers, and pikes, he grew
well and hale again; but only after a year of suffering,
convalesence, and confinement to a sick chamber, during
which his fiery and energetic spirit writhed in inactivity—
for there are some men whom it is alike difficult to
subdue or kill.
THE MISSION.
141
Death long disputed with life and youth for the victim ;
but men did not die easily in these old times of brawl and
battle ; yet he had upon his person, as the abbot of
Tongland records, " three and twentye woundis," and
recovered them all.
" Men," says some one, " are unaware what toil, pain,
oi suffering they are capable of until they have been
put to the test."
The wound inflicted by the ghisarma of Earl James
wa3 not his least annoyance, as it had laid open both
cheeks ; thus a cicatrized slash traversed his face, which
so completely altered its expression, that after a little
difference in the trimming of his hair and beard, few
would have recognized him ; but the lady of the chan-
cellor, like all the thrifty dames of those turbulent and
homely days, was a famous leech, and by the lotions and
cosmetics she prepared for him, and applied daily with
her own hands, was not without hope that within " a
year and a day, or perhaps within a. few months more,"
it would be obliterated ; and all the young ladies about
the young king's court, even the charming princesses
his sisters, had an interest in this process, and the pro-
gress of his recovery, for the Captain of the Guard was
one of the handsomest men of the time, and a favourite
with them all.
He flad been conveyed to the chancellor's apartments
in St. Margaret's Tower, within the castle of Edinburgh,
and there for many months he had been tended with
every care, till the period at which we now return to
him.
The wily chancellor was not unjust. He felt that
Sir Patrick Gray had suffered much in the king's ser-
vice ; loss of health, almost of life, and the loss perhaps
142
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
of a beautiful mistress, were hard things to encounter,
for he knew that the bloody events of the 23rd and
24th of November had opened up an impassable chasm
between Gray and the family of Douglas.
Crichton loved all who loved the king, and this was
the great tie between him and Gray, whose friendship
he strove sedulously to cultivate and preserve, though
the more open soldier detested the mode by which the
regent and chancellor had striven, so futilely, to crush
the mighty house of Douglas.
Gray's weak state after his many wounds, combined
with his grief, at what he deemed the loss for ever of
Murielle, affected him so much, that during the severe
winter of 1440 he nearly sank under his sufferings. He
rallied, however, by youth and inborn strength, though
good St. Giles, of Edinburgh, to whose altar, in the spirit
of the times, he devoted several pounds of wax and silver,
got the whole credit of the change.
Lady Agnes of Crichton and the courtiers said he was
" dying of love." The chancellor could believe in a stout
man-at-arms dying of a slash from Earl James's battle-axe,
but not of love for Murielle, his kinswoman, however
beautiful and gentle she might be ; so he only smiled
at their surmises, and when Gray was able to ride a
little every day on a quiet horse led by his page,
Crichton resolved to find him some active employment
so soon as he was stronger.
So Gray, as we have said, writhed in inactivity when
his friends and kinsmen, MacLellan and Andrew Gray, of
Balgarno, had marched from Stirling to Athole to capture
the great freebooter, John Gorm Stewart. He had heard
from Andrew Gray of the conflict on the north Inch of
Perth, where the sheriff had been cloven down by the two-
THE MISSION.
143
handed sword of Stewart, who, in turn, had been slain by
MacLellan, but not until he had so severely wounded the
latter, that he had been compelled to return for a time to
his castle of Raeberry, on the shore of the Solway Firth.
And during this long period of seclusion and inactivity
Gray had longed with all a lover's restless longing for
some tidings of Murielle ; but those about the chancellor
were either unwilling or unable to afford him any.
So the time rolled wearily on.
One afternoon he was sitting dreamily in the recess of
a window of St. Margaret's Tower, which stood upon the
western verge of the castle rock, but was demolished
during the long siege of 1573.
It was a somewhat gloomy apartment (it was then
three hundred and eighty years old), built in the Saxon
style, with grotesquely-carved heads and zig-zag mouldings
round the arches, and hung with long russet-coloured
tapestry, which had been worked by the hands of Anna-
bella, the queen of Robert III., to hide the bare, rough
walls. This tapestry was old now ; its tenter-hooks were
rusty, and it swayed in the currents of wind, which passed
through the fireplace, on the shelf of which, in memory of
the good queen who once dwelt there, was inscribed the
pious request,—
Valuta Margarita, ora pro nobfe.
Beneath the windows was the verdant slope whereon
three mounds, of solemn aspect, were traceable. The
coarse dog-grass, the white gowan, and pink witch-
thimbles (or foxglove), grew there in rank luxuriance now}
and as they swayed in the evening wind, were all that
marked where lay the three victims of that terrible vigil
of St. Catharine.
144
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
The autumnal sun was sinking. The vast and fertile
plain of wood and wold which stretches from the foot of
the castle rock for fifty miles to the westward, was steeped
in warm light; and the sun's diverging rays of ruddy
gold, as he sank behind the rugged ridges of Corstorphine,
filled all the western sky with a shining glory, which
threw forward, in strong, black outline, the intervening
woods and rocks, hills and knolls.
Gray's eyes were apparently fixed upon the darkmoun-
tains and the beautiful plain, all brightness and fertility ;
but they dwelt on vacancy, for he saw, instead, a graceful
head, with a mass of wavy hair, long-lashed, gentle eyes,
of a violet blue, a soft face, with a brilliant complexion,
and a slightly rose-tinted cheek.
There was a sound in his ear too.
It was the voice of Murielle, conjured up with all a
lover's memory in an age of poetry, romance, and en
thusiasm, when knightly faith and purity, and even some-
what of fading chivalry, were lingering in the northern
land.
A hand was laid on his shoulder; he started, and on
turning met the keen eyes, the thoughtful face, and tall
thin figure of the chancellor, who was clad in his fur-
trimmed gown, which was girt at the waist by an embroi-
dered girdle, whereat hung, as usual, his tablets, pouch,
and dagger.
" You did not hear the servitor announce me, Sir
Patrick," said he ; " were you dreaming of Elf-land, or
some far-off" day of happiness ?"
"Your pardon !—though not much given to flights of
fancy," replied Sir Patrick, starting, " I was in a dreamy
mood."
"Nay, do not rise, but rest—and say how fare you,"
said Crichton, taking a chair by his side.
THE MISSION.
145
"'111 enough, my lord," replied the captain, passing a
thin wan hand across his pale brow with a troubled air ;
" ill enough, and weary too."
"In body?"
" Yes—and in spirit."
" That is a matter beyond the skill oi such a leech even
as my good wife Agnes."
" Her kindness and care are only equalled by my grati-
tude ; and see," added Sir Patrick, smiling, " she has
hung at my neck her own miraculous pomander-ball, lest
the plague that rages now in Fife might here infect me.
But I am weary of resting and of idleness ; yet alas ! and
alake ! Sir William, I fear me this arm will never curb
a horse's head again ; and as for handling my sword, a
child might twitch it from me at the third pass ! Here
an arrow head was wedged between the bones of the right
forearm; but I gave the archer a notch on the knuckles
that will mar his shooting for life."
" Well, there is some comfort in that," replied the
chancellor, " and greater had there been, could you have
notched the head of Abercorn, or Douglas as he is enti-
tied now "
A hectic flush crossed the face of Sir Patrick, who
replied, huskily : " After what had taken place on the
preceding day, I would not have struck a blow at her
kinsman, even to save my life ! "
"After what had taken place?" reiterated the chan-
cellor, gloomily.
" A y, on the vigil of St. Catharine," continued Gray
with firmness, and something of reproach in his tone.
" Enough of that," said the other, hastily, as he passed
his handkerchief over his brow, and replaced it in his
embroidered pouch ; " I have other things to speak of than
L
146
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
those which are past and beyond all human remedy. But
was it not a cruel act and merciless deed in Earl James
So smite down a poor gentleman, who citing to him, bleed-
£$g, faint, and despairing "
" It matters not, Sir "William—it matters not; I have
made up my mind to leave Scotland."
" Indeed !" exclaimed Crichton, with astonishment.
" For some—it may be for many, many years,—per-
chance I may return no more."
" How—what mean you 1"
" That Charles VII. of France wants soldiers to aid
him in his wars against the English and Burgundians, and
I shall seek his camp for knight-service ; or it may be,
that I shall go further off, to the distant East, where the
Greek empire, under the Emperor Constantine, is now
threatened by the accursed pagans of the Sultan Mahomet,
and where brave hearts and sharp swords are wanted to
defend Christian women and the altars of God from dese-
cration ; and so there are times, chancellor, when I think
I shall even find a stranger's grave on the banks of the
Bosphorus."
The chancellor, who had no wish that the king should
lose so faithful and valiant a soldier as Sir Patrick Gray,
whom he knew to be resolute, and somewhat obstinate in
purpose, listened to this bitter outburst with some con-
cern; but, patting him on the shoulder as he might have
done a restive horse, lie replied, smiling, " Leave Greek
and Turk to fight their own battles ; abide you by your
king ; and when the time comes, as come it must, let
your grave be dug, not in the land of the sunburned and
God-abandoned pagans, but in the old kirk of Foulis,
where your Scottish forefathers lie. Moreover, can it be,
that you have forgotten your promise to King James—*
THE MISSION.
147
that you would be a faithful friend and mentor to his
eon?"
" True—true—I have," replied Gray, biting his nether
lip till the wound in his face made him wince ; " but
you know, chancellor, that I am pledged to Murielle
Douglas, and that I cannot bide in Scotland without
her."
" I may find a way to let you leave it, and yet preserve
your promise to King James,—a way that shall suit your
restless humour; but speak no more to me of Murielle
Douglas," said the chancellor, as his brows knit and his
eyes loured. " Listen : I have other views for you ; it
may be a royal alliance itself."
" Royal ?" was the perplexed reiteration.
"Yes."
Here Sir Patrick Gray, who knew that he was really
loved by this unscrupulous statesman, gazed at him with
a curiously-mingled expression of surprise, amusement,
and grim disdain • but being a poor soldier and loval
gentleman, with no heritage but his sword and spurs, he
felt himself compelled to listen, though almost degraded
by havh&g to do so.
" You are aware, Sir Patrick, that the king has several
fair sisters ?" began the chancellor.
Sir Patrick bowed.
" Each is lovely, though still in girlhood—and, under
favour, lovelier, it may be, than the little lady who dwells
among the king's rebels in Thrave—for rebels are they
to the heart's-core, though not yet in arms."
Gray's pale fac® flushed, and for a moment the scar
upon his face grew nearly black; but he merely said,
"Welland the chancellor, while playing with his pouch
and dagger, resumed, in an easy conversational tone.
l 2
148
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
" All the crown-lands, the king's rents, castles, baronies,
mills, mails, and fishings, cannot find dowers royal enough
of these six dames, his sisters, at present. Do you under-
stand me ?"
" Not exa-ctly. You must be more plain, my lord
chancellor."
"'Tis not the first time that a king's daughter has
wedded a simple knight."
" In old ballads, Sir William; and I would be a simple
knight indeed to cast my eyes so high."
"The queen-mother is now the wife of the Black
Knight of Lorn," said Crichton, with the air of one who
finds a convincing argument.
" But he is a different man from the poor captain of the
king's paid pikemen ! St. Mary ! a sorry figure would
I cut, riding up to my father's tower-gate, with my
princess behind me on a pillion, and settling there to
become a scrape-trencher, while she assisted my mother in
brewhouse and bakery ! Take heed, chancellor ; I need
not be dazzled thus, to keep me faithful to my king. So,
enough of this ! I am not ignorant that all these prin-
cesses are promised, not to simple knights, but to foreign
princes."
" Not all," said the chancellor, with an air of annoy-
ance ; " the Princess Margaret is, I know, contracted to
Louis, the dauphin of France."
A troublesome brother-in-law he might prove to the
younger son of the laird of Foulis," replied Gray, laughing
outright.
" The Lady Elizabeth "
" Is contracted to the duke of Brittany; and in a
month Eleonora will be the bride of Sigismund le Debon-
nair, archduke of Austria, and duke of all the dukes in
THE MISSION.
149
Almaynie ; while the Lady Mary will be wedded to the
lord of Campvere."
" I knew not that you were so well versed in state
secrets," said the chancellor coldly, with an affected
smile.
" You forget, my dear Sir William, that your good lady
has been my nurse."
" There is the Lady Annabelle."
" A child," said Sir Patrick, laughing louder to conceal
the annoyance that rankled in his heart; " oh ! oh ! Sir
William, I should have to wait ten years at least till my
wife grew up. Dost take me for a fool, a very mooncalf,
though I have listened to you 1 But to the point: say
what service you seek of me, as I have made up my mind
to leave Scotland in a month. Believe me, I need no
bribe for faith and service to my king; and, as to Mu-
rielle Douglas, the wealth of Prester John of the Indies,
if such a man there be, with the love of an empress,
would not win me from her, though it may be that, with
this gash on my face, she—she might shrink from me
now."
" Did I not say that I might suit your humour and also
serve the king ? " asked the chancellor.
" How ?"
" Hearken," said Crichton, placing a hand on the arm
of Gray.
" Say on," said the latter impatiently.
" In two years from this, the king will take upon him-
self the government of the nation, and I shall retire me
to my old castle of - Crichton, in the Glen of Tyne,
beyond the Esk, and spend there my latter days in
peace."
" The government—in 1444—this boy ?"
150
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
" The boy will then be fifteen, and he is a manly boy
withal. The time is coming when he must be contracted
to a foreign princess, and, through the lord of Campvere,
Duke Arnold of Gueldreland has made overtures on the
part of his daughter Mary, now in her ninth year. To
these overtures the regent and myself, with the consent
of the lords of council, have thought it meet to respond,
and you shall bear our missives to the duke, who is
now either in Gueldreland, in Brabant, or Burgundy,
I know not which; and in due time I, with a fitting
train, will set out for his capital. But promise me to be
secret as you are faithful in this matter, and remember it
is in the service of the king."
" In this embassy I promise to do all that may become
a loyal man—save wed the Lady Mary of Gueldres her-
self; for, after all you have proposed, by the mass ! I knew
not where your generosity might end."
" Good !" replied Crichton. " To-night I ride for
Stirling, to see the regent and Queen Jane; when I
return, you shall have your sealed letters of credence,
and Dirltoun the treasurer shall pave the way with
gold."
The chancellor shook his hand with kindness, and
retired, leaving the frank and single-hearted soldier to
consider the journey before him ; the yet greater separa-
tion by land, water, and time, it would make between
himself and Murielle, and also to surmise whether the
proposal merely veiled some deeper and more distant
object; for, since that fatal 24th of November, Gray had
ever a doubt of the regent, tfie chancellor, and their
projects.
"He overshot the butt—his cunning hath outdone
itself," muttered Gray. " Did he not think a ward of the
the mission.
151
crown would content the king's poor soldier for a bride ?
but a princess—ha ! ha ! " And he uttered a merry but
scornful laugh.
As the twilight deepened, and the shores of the Forth
blended in the distance with its darkening waters, he
thought over all that had passed ; but was not left long
to his own reflections, for a grey-bearded pikeman of his
guard drew back the moth-eaten arras, and announced
his kinsman, Sir Thomas MacLellan, of Bombie.
CHAPTER XXI.
gray's departure.
Awake, awake ! lover, I bring, I bring
Most gladsome news, that blissful are and sure
Of thy comfort; now laugh, and play, and sing.
Full soon thou shalt achieve thine adventure,
For in the heaven decretit is thy cure.
Remains of Jakes I. op Scotland.
" Welcome, my good and merry friend !" exclaimed
Gray, starting forward to greet him;—"lights, wine, and a
jolly greybeard of usquebaugh," he added to his servant;
—" and you have returned."
" 'Tis but an hour since I alighted at an hostelry, with
two hackneys, a sumpter-nag, and my best suit of armour,
packed on the saddle of my black horse—you remember
it—with the curtal tail."
" Your wounds "
" Are well and whole, though, sooth to say, the two-
handed whinger ol John Gorm was somewhat heavy for
one's patience, and cut through my chain-shirt and jack-
wambeson, as if they had been pie-crust. But I am
152
TIIE CAPTAIN OF THE GUAKD.
recovered now. The pure breeze that comes over the
broad Solway and whistles round the turrets of old Rae-
berry has made me a hale man again."
" Would that I could say the same," sighed Gray.
" That slash on the face "
" Won't please a woman's eye now, I fear me."
" But to wed one who objected thereto would be to
throw ame's ace in the game of matrimony," replied
MacLellan, tossing upon a settle his sword, jewelled
dagger, and laced mantle; " yes—even were she a
princess."
" Soho, man ! talk not of princesses—I have just had
my choice of six."
"Six !—daughters of the queen of Elphen ?"
" Nay, six of flesh and blood, and declined them all,"
said Gray, laughing.
"What riddle is this?—or has a fairy indeed been
with you ?"
" You shall hear."
Lights had now been brought, and the candles, in the
brass sconces which hung on the tapestried wall, cast
lines of steady radiance across the otherwise gloomy old
chamber. The arras was drawn across the windows, in
the gratings of which, as well as through the battlement
of the tower overhead, the wind was whistling. Bed and
white wine, in flasks of Yenetian silver, glittered on the
table; and to these was added usquebaugh, in one of
those stone jars which came from Flanders, and had in
front a bearded mask; whence the Scottish name of
" greybeard" for a whisky-jar to this day.
The friends drew their seats close to the table.
MacLellan carefully wiped the dew from his sword, a
short weapon, the steel of which was embrowned—a
gray's departure.
153
fancy of tlie time (whence, perhaps, the " berry-brown
blades" of old songs)—and in it were little flutes, to per-
mit the blood to run off when used in mortal strife ; for
our Scottish sires studied all these little matters to a
nicety. MacLellan's handsome and athletic figure was
displayed to advantage in his steel cuirass and gorget, his
hanging sleeves, and long black riding-boots, the tops of
which were strapped to his girdle. His face was ruddy
and sunburnt; his black curly hair was closely cropped,
in the fashion of the time ; he had a moustache, though
then military men wore it seldom, and none but the old
indulged in beards.
With considerable animation, he related his adventures
among the hills and forests of Athole,—the capture of
the great freebooter,—the sudden resistance offered by
him and his followers at Perth,—and the conflict on the
north Inch, without the city wall. To all this Gray lis-
tened with some impatience, nor did he begin to evince
any interest until the lieutenant, at the conclusion of his
narrative, detailed his sojourn at his castle of Paeberry,
in Galloway.
" What news bring you from that part of the country ?"
he asked.
" The burden of the old song—rief and stouthrief, op-
pression, hamesiicken, and outrage, on the part of the
Douglases, who make all bow to their rule ; so that no
man, of whatsoever rank he be, or however strong his
dwelling, can lie down to sleep with the certainty of
being a live man at the dawn of day "
" And what of dame Margaret ?"
" Well," replied MacLellan, holding a glass of red wine
between him and the light, to watch the gossamer bees-
wing ss it floated to and fro, " you have heard, of
154
THE CAPTAIN OP THE GUARD.
course, how loosely the wedding-ring hung on her fair
finger?"
" How—how ?" asked Gray, impetuously.
" Is it possible that you do not know ?" asked
MacLellan, with surprise.
" What ? I have heard nothing here."
" That she is wedded to James, earl of Abercorn, who
is also now of Douglas."
" Wedded !" reiterated Gray, with unfeigned astonish-
ment in his eyes and voice, as he now heard of this
strange and formidable alliance for the first time;
" wedded to the widow of his nephew ?"
"Exactly—the poor boy who lies below the castle wall
without; and a strong alliance our regent and chancellor
may find it prove."
" But what says the church to this ?" asked Gray, after
a pause.
" The Countess Margaret is heiress of Galloway, Wig-
ton, Balvenie, Ormond, and Annandale—a good slice of
braid Scotland," replied MacLellan, in a bantering tone,
as he hated the Douglases; "James, umquhile only of
Abercorn and Avondale, is a mighty lord; so the most
reverend father in God, Alexander—by divine permission
bishop of Ccmdida Casa (so run the pastorals to his pretty
flock, the moss-troopers)—put a good round sum in gold
nobles in his pouch, dozes away in his episcopal chair,
and troubles not his mitred head about the matter; for
is not Abbot John of Tongland, the keeper of the earl's
conscience, a Douglas ? By St. Paul, it is hardly wise or
pleasant to call oneself by a different surname on the
other side of the Nith, and I have some thoughts of
getting permission from the king-of-arms, to call myself
gray's departure.
155
Archibald or Sholto Douglas—they are all one or other—
as a surer warrant for a whole skin."
" Truly; we live in strange times !" pondered Gray;
" and Murielle—Lady Murielle—you have not spoken of
her?"
" Men say she is the same little moping, mooning nun,
as ever."
" Beloved Murielle!" thought Gray in his heart,
" And say, kinsman, how does she look ? "
" Lovelier than her wont. She improves as she grows
older, like this wine of Alicant; but there is a pensive-
ness about her "
" A pensiveness 1"
" That must be very flattering to you."
"Jesting again," said Gray, with annoyance.
" Under favour, not in the least."
" Then you really saw her, MacLellan ? "
" How could I have judged of her beauty or pensive-
ness else ?"
" Often ?"
" Once only, my friend."
" At Thrave ?"
" No, faith !" replied Sir Thomas, laughing and shrug-
ging his shoulders ; " I have a wholesome dread of that
ugly gallows knob above the castle gate. But I did see
her, however, and so closely, that her cramasie skirts
rustled against my leather gambadoes, as she passed
me."
" Where—where ?"
" In the Lady Chapel of Tongland. I would have
helped her to holy water from the font, but it was frozen
hard and fast; for it was Candlema^ day, and the Dee
156
TIIE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
below tlie abbey wall was a sheet of ice, from rock to
rock."
" You saw her," said Gray musingly, with a soft smile,
as if he conjured up her face and form ; "you saw, and
yet did not speak with her 1"
" By St. Cuthbert, 'twere as much as my life is worth
to have done so, begirt as she was by Earl James's surly
swashbucklers and rusty helmetted moss-troopers ; but,
from all I can learn in Galloway, she believes you
dead."
" Oh—impossible ! "
" Why so 1 Did she not see you stricken to the earth
by the swords and mauls of more than a hundred wild
Galwegians, Douglases, and devils ?"
" True, she must have seen it—if, indeed, she could
have looked upon it."
"Be assured that curiosity will conquer alarm—even
love, at times," responded the sceptical MacLellan.
" A fatal mistake may result from all this."
" What mean you by a fatal mistake—a marriage ?"
" Yes," said Gray, with a bitter sigh.
" It is not unlikely," replied the lieutenant, carelessly,
while polishing his cuirass with a leather glove.
" How—why do you say so ?"
" Nay; I did but echo your own thoughts."
" I have none; I am full of sorrow and bewilder-
ment."
" Earl James and his countess are leaving nothing un-
done to strengthen their hands for some great enterprise.
All men in Galloway say so, from the Brig of Dumfries
to the Point of Kirkcolm ; for the black dinner is yet
fresh in their minds, and the marriage of Ladv Murielle
to a powerful lord might—might "
GRAY S DEPARTURE.
157
" Say on."
" Add a few thousand men to their strength, should
the Douglases make a Raid out of Galloway."
" Oh, how many secret tears must all this have cost
her ! She believes me dead: dear Murielle ! I could
joyously die for her—"
"Joyously to live for her, would be to act the wiser
part," said the other, with a loud laugh.
" Ever mocking, MacLellan. It is enough to madden
me, this doubt and fear; these bold schemes on one hand,
her gentleness and ignorance of my fate on the other ;
while I am under pledge to leave Scotland for Flanders
on the king's service, and may not—nay, I cannot return
sooner than half a year hence, having a voyage to Sluys
by sea, and a journey to Gueldres on horseback before
me. I would give this gold chain for a trusty messenger
to Galloway."
" You should add for a bold one ; as some courage is
required to convey billets-doux under the gallows knob of
Thrave."
"Jesting again, kinsman," said Gray, reproachfully.
" Nay, I do not jest," said MacLellan, suddenly becom-
ing serious. " Within a month from this, I return to my
house at Raeberry, which I am strengthening by new
walls and towers, as I know not what mischief J ames the
Gross may be hatching ; and I give you my faith as an
honourable man, that I will see Murielle Douglas, and
bear to her your farewell messages. This I will do,
if the act should cost me liberty and life. I have often,
ere this, perilled both for a less matter,"
Little did the brave Lieutenant of the King's Guard
foresee that these were no idle words, and that this rash
promise to his friend would cost the exact penalty he so
158
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
heedlessly named, and would send down his story among
the many dark episodes of the Scottish annals; but of
this, more anon.
Gray's heart was filled with gratitude by the offer, and
after MacLellan retired, he began to look forward with
more confidence, and even pleasure, to his projected
mission into Flanders, as a scene of new adventures, and
an agreeable change after the sufferings and monotony
of the past year.
Within a month after the conversation just detailed,
Sir Patrick Gray had embarked at the old Timber Holfe
of Leith, and sailed from Scotland on board the St.
Regulus, a caravel belonging to the monks of St. Mary,
at Pittenweem, who were great traders and shipowners in
those days.
At the same time MacLellan, faithful to his promise,
contrived to convey a letter from him to Murielle, who
was so worn out by the daily persecution she experienced,
and being assured of her lover's death (indeed, Achanna
swore to have seen his tomb in the church of St. Giles),
that she was on the point of consenting in £he desperate
longing for peace, to receive the addresses of the duke of
Albany, who was then in exile on the Continent. But
now, suddenly hope revived in her heart; the bloom came
back to her cheek, and the light to her eye; strength of
purpose returned to her, and she resisted so strenuously,
that the subtle earl and his imperious countess found
their schemes completely marred for the time.
As a proof that he still lived, she displayed Sir
Patrick's treasured letter, which had fallen at her feet
attached to an arrow, shot, she knew not by whom, as she
walked one day by the margin of the isle on which the
castle stands; but her sister tore the missive from her
gray's departure.
159
hands, stigmatized it as a vile forgery, and rent it to frag-
ments, which she trampled under foot in presence of her
bower maidens.
Then the sombre earl swore his deepest oath that, if
the bearer could be discovered, he would soon be dangling
from the gallows knob above the gate.
So Murielle, in new happiness, prayed for the safety of
her lover, while his ship bore merrily across the summer
sea towards the coast of Flanders.
Meantime the earl, to perfect his political intrigues
with Albany, to make his sure peace with Pope
Eugene IV., who had privately disapproved of his mar-
riage while publicly dispensing him, resolved to visit
Pome. He was not without hope, by change of scene
and distance from home, to divert the mind of Murielle,
and bend her to his purpose.
He prepared a brilliant train of knights and followers,
and took with him the abbot of Tongland, who volun-
teered to smooth over all difficult matters at the Vatican,
and who hoped, moreover, as he displayed a mighty
parchment, that, " before he returned to the wilds of
Galloway, the master of lies and iniquity, the father of
all evil and evil devices, should once more have become
a pure spirit, clad in a shining raiment.'1
the captain of the guard,
CHAPTER XXII.
the lowlands of holland.
To Norroway, to Norroway,
Out owre the saut seas' foam ;
The King o' Norroway's daughter,
'Tis thou maun bring her home !
Old Ballad,
Though tlie season was summer, the St. Regulus of
Pittenweem did not cross the German Ocean without
peril • for one night, and during the following day, there
blew a tempest from the south-east, which drove her so
far from her course, that the tacking to and fro of a
whole week were required ere she could regain the lost
distance ; for the reader must bear in mind that the
high-pooped, high prowed, and low-waisted craft of those
days, were very different from the screw-propellers and
iron clippers of the present age ; and heavily they lum-
bered along, with Dutch lee-boards, basketed tops, their
spritsail-yards, jack-staffs, and other ponderous hamper.
So, when the gale abated, the St. Regulus was off the
coast of England, and the tall, surf-beaten cliff, with the
old castle of Scarborough, were seen in the distance, as
the red rays of the morning sun fell on them from the
eastern sky.
And now, as the St. Regulus squared her yards to bear
up for Sluys, a new danger presented itself.
A great ship of England, which had hitherto been
concealed by a bank of mist, was seen bearing down to-
wards her, with St. George's ensign flying, and a large
white rod or pole lashed to her bowsprit. This was the
sign of amity on the seas in those days, and it was by
THE LOWLANDS OF HOLLAND.
161
this token that Sir Andrew Barton, in after years, was
lured by Lord Howard to destruction in the Downs;
but, as all shipmen were generally addicted to a little
piracy, the captain of the St. Regulus, who was a douce
native of the East Neuk, and a lay brother of St. Mary,
of Pittenmeen, having a valuable cargo consigned to the
famous merchant John Vanderberg of Bruges (who two
years before had discovered the Azores), deemed discretion
the better part of valour ; so, hoisting all the canvas he
could spread aloft, he squared his yards and bore right
away before the wind.
Immediately on this, the crew of the English ship blew
their trumpets, and fired several stone shot from their
culverins ; thus plainly indicating that though both coun-
tries were at peace, they did not deem that the treaty
extended into blue water, and that they would make a
prize of the Scotsman if they could.
Sir Patrick, who had donned his armour, and appeared
on deck with his two-handed sword, was not without
fear that the ship might have been dispatched to intercept
him, and spoil his embassy by the influence the earl of
Douglas possessed in England—a country which in all
ages left nothing undone to break the political ties,
which then existed between Scotland and the continent.
But the St. Regulus sailed like an arrow before the
wind ; and thus, long ere mid-day, her pursuer was far
distanced and hull-down in the ocean.
With this single incident she had a prosperous voyage,
and on Lammas-day in August made the low flat coast of
Flanders, and came to anchor in the then fine harbour
of Sluys, close to the strong old castle, where the Due
de Bouillon was kept after his capture at Hesdin ; but
since those clays the sea, which has gradually been washing
n
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
away the isle of Cadsand, has almost filled up the basin
of Sluys.
Sir Patrick Gray landed with his horse, armour, and
cloakbags, and presented his credentials to Herve de
Meriadet, the burg graf, who commmanded a body of
"Walloons, in the castle, "where," says the abbot of Tong-
land, " he was honourably entertained for three days, after
which he set out for the court of the duke of Gueldres,"
which lay about one hundred and fifty miles distant, in
the land beyond the Maese.
Though Planders had been the scene of many bloody
battles, and disastrous wars, the people were industrious
and peaceful; and then it was not necessary, as in turbulent
and warlike Scotland, to travel armed to the teeth ; yet,
to be provided for any emergency, Sir Patrick Gray
wore an open helmet, a gorget, a chain shirt, and gloves
of fine mail, with his sword and dagger.
In his cloak-bag was a round sum in the current coin
of the day, such as Henry nobles valued at twenty-two
shillings; salutis, riders, and dauphines, at eleven shillings;
and Rhenish guilders at eight, issued to him, in goodly
canvas bags, by the treasurer d-epute, from the rents of
the king's lands in Ettrick forest and Gosford in Lothian,
which had then been due. Moreover, he had ample
letters of credit upon John Vanderberg of Bruges, and
two Scottish merchants in Campvere.
Though far from Murielle Douglas, he felt his heart
grow light as he surveyed the flat green fields where the
sleek cattle browsed, the sandy isles of the Scheldt, where
the brown windmills tossed their arms in the breeze;
the dull sedgy streams, where great lubberly barges were
dragged to and fro by horses of equally lubberly aspect;
the taper church snires seen at a vast distance across the
THE LOWLANDS OP HOLLAND.
163
far stretching heaths ; or the old castles amid the thick
primeval woods of Flanders. Health and strength had
returned to him amid the bracing air of the German Sea.
His purse was well lined; he had a good horse under
him ; a sharp sword by his side; an honourable com-
mission to execute; and so he rode cheerfully on, with
an almost boyish emotion of novelty and longing for ad-
venture, making his heart expand and its pulses quicken,
he knew not why.
He was now in Flanders—"the lawlands o'Holland," so
famed in many a Scottish song—and whose name is so
interwoven with the annals of our exiles and soldiers of
fortune.
On the first day of his solitary journey he passed
through Ardenburg, which is a league from Sluys, and
was then the capital of maritime Flanders j and from
thence proceeding along the left bank of the Scheldt he
reached Hulst, a small but very ancient town in Dutch
Brabant, where he took up his quarters at a Benedictine
monastery, whose superior was brother of the burg graf
of Sluys, by name Benoit de Meriadet of Burgundy^
When he set forth next morning he saw plainly in
the distance the magnificent spire of the great cathedral
in the marquisate of Antwerp, reddened by the dun
morning sun, standing like a slender pillar of flame, above
the vast extent of level pastures which border the Scheldt,
and rising far above the dense white motionless mist
which the heat of the August morning was exhaling,
from the fens and marshes, through which the river
flowed so turgidly and slowly towards Zealand and the
German Sea.
After a twenty miles' ride through a green and fertile
but most monotonous country, he found himself in busy
n 2
164
the captain of the guard.
Antwerp, and under the shadow of that colossal spire,
which was then one of the wonders of the world, and
which was visible alike from the lace works of Mechlin,
the ramparts of Ghent; the plains of Louvain ; and the
sandy shores of the distant Zealand isles.
CHAPTER XXIII.
our lady of antwerp.
In her did beauty, youth, and bounty dwell,
A virgin port and features feminine ;
Far better than my feeble tongue can tell,
Did meek-eyed wisdom in her features shine ;
She seemed perfay, a thing almost divine.
James I. op Scotland.
Antwerp was then in the zenith of its commercial
glory, and to a traveller like Sir Patrick Gray, who had
never seen a larger city than the little Edinburgh of
James II. clustering on its rocky ridge, surrounded by
forests of oak and pathless hills, the great Flemish town,
in the splendour of its mercantile prosperity, with a popu-
lation of more than two hundred thousand souls, pre-
sented a scene of varying wonders, amid which he was
almost disposed to forget his embassy, and to linger for a
time.
Nor was this desire lessened, when Maitre Baudoin, a
garrulous little Frenchman, who was keeper of the hos-
telry at which he lodged—the " Grille of St. Laurence"—
informed him that, " by recent rains, all the roads be-
tween the Scheldt and Maese were impassable ; that the
sluices of several of the barrier fortresses had given way ;
that the rivers had overflowed their banks ; and that the
OUR LADY OF ANTWERP.
16*
Peel Morass, which lies between Brabant and Gueldre
land, was, for the time, an actual sea. Moreover," he
added, " it is but a few days until the 15th of the month,
when the Feast of the Assumption will be held in the
cathedral of our Lady of Antwerp, with a splendour never
before witnessed in the city ; people are arriving from all
quarters, and Monseigneur l'Eveque de Mechlin has
found a young lady of great beauty and high rank, to
appear as our patroness in the procession."
"Though this maybe no inducement to a lover, it may
be one to a storm-stayed traveller," replied Gray ; " but
who is this lady, Maitre Baudoin ?"
" Ah—who indeed, messire ! " replied the hosteller
shrugging his shoulders ; " who indeed !"
" "What—is she the Princess Mary of Gueldres ?"
" Pardieu ! no one can tell who the lady may bo,
save herself and Monseigneur l'Eveque ; it is always kept
secret."
" Why—how 1"
" You see, messire, secrecy and mystery enhance the
charm of her appearance. It is very droll."
" And she is sure to be beautiful ?"
" Superbe, messire !"
While the master of the hostel ran on thus, and then
proceeded to enumerate all the great personages, such as
Monseigneur the prince of Ravenstein, MM. the mar-
quises of Berg and An vers, the count of Nassau, and
others who were sure to be present with their ladies,
esquires, and men-at-arms, Gray mentally resolved to tarry
for.a day or two and witness the spectacle, prior to which
he could see all the marvels of this great Flemish capital.
A vast city it was, with its long and quaint streets of
old and steeD-roofed houses, built of painted brick and
166
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
carved wood, with a stork's nest on every chimney ; the
pavement fall of life and bustle, and swarming with ruddy-
cheeked young fraus, each having a dozen petticoats ; and
bulbous-shaped Flemings wearing the old proverbial big
red or brown trunk-hose, bombasted with sawdust or
tow, and bedecked with rows of shiny buttons at the
side; its booths, its shops and stores, crammed with trea-
sures and merchandise from all parts of Christendom and
the East—the mysterious realms of Prester John ; while
boats and barges, all glittering with brown varnish paint
and gilding, plied to and fro under the bridges of the
Scheldt or its canals, laden with boxes, barrels, and bales,
or with ruddy fruit, green vegetables, or ponderous cattle,
or with men, women, and children, long-robed priests, and
mail-clad soldiers, all gabbling and laughing in the guttural
patois of the old Lotheringian kingdom. Then there were
the long and stately rows of linden trees and the ramparts
of the citadel; while, with scores of little shops nestling
between its countless buttresses, high over all towered
the mighty cathedral, the glory of Antwerp, with its
sixty-six chapels, its roof that springs from one hundred
and twenty-five pillars—its altars, statues, and pictures,
with that gorgeous steeple which seems to pierce the sky,
and the carvings of which are so exquisite that Charles V.
said, " it should be put into a case and shown only on
holidays."
On its summit, four hundred and fifty feet above the
busy streets, there hung, in those days, four great copper
pans, in which the burghers were wont to kindle fires on
the approach of an enemy ; for the Gueldrians, Lorainers,
Burgundians, and even the Frieslanders from beyond
Utrecht and the waveless Zuyder Zee, worked the wealthy
Antwerpers sore mischief in time of war and tumult.
OUR LADY OF ANTWERP.
1G7
In this vast city Gray resided unnoticed and unknown,
and spent several days pleasantly enough ; so the great
festival came to pass before the waters subsided on the
frontiers.
On the night of the 15th August, after vespers, when
the brilliant procession was to issue from the cathedral,
Gray armed himself, and, guided by Maitre Baudoin, of
the Grille de Ste. Laurence, obtained a good place near the
porch of the cathedral; within, without, and all around
which were assembled the thousands of Antwerp to wit-
ness the procession, in which so much of a religious pageant
with civic mummery were to mingle. The excitement
was increased by the wide-spread rumour that a young
foreign girl of high rank—a princess at least—had been
chosen on this occasion to represent our Lady of Ant-
werp ; thus all the city were on tiptoe in honour of the
occasion, the patroness of their cathedral, of the city, and
of all Christian women.
The armed vassals of the powerful and; wealthy bishop
of Mechlin formed a lane, with their partisans parting
the crowd before the cathedral gate. Each soldier bore
a torch, and the lurid glow of these fell fitfully on their
bearded visages, their steel caps and breast-plates, or tipped
with seeming fire the points of their partisans. Beyond,
the wavering gleam lighted partially the sombre and dusky
masses of the people, who crowded all the thoroughfares
like a human sea.
The thirty-three bells of the cathedral were tolling,
and from the depths of its long-drawn aisles and echoing
arches strains of the sacred music within came forth and
floated over the bowed heads of the hushed and expectant
multitude.
At last the bells rang out a merrier peal; the gilded
168
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
gates revolved, and, when more torches were lighted, a
glow of sudden splendour seemed to fill the great portico
of the church, and all the white marble statues of saints,
kings, and warriors seemed to start from their canopied
niches into life.
There was a palpable vibration among the people—a
heaving to and fro of the human tide—as the glitter of the
coming pageant appeared in the arched depths of the
church; but the heaving was steadily repressed by the
steel points of the levelled partisans, while here and there
a half-stifled shriek from a woman, or a gruff Flemish oath
from a man, announced that the pressure was greater than
their patience could endure. But now the procession
was seen slowly descending the steps of the portico, and
exclamations of pleasure and astonishment burst from
time to time in front of the masses ; and these, as usual,
served but to excite the curiosity and irritate the temper
of the less fortunate who were too far off in the rear, or
were hopelessly crushed against the adjacent houses.
First came the twenty-eight corporations of the city,
clad in gowns of fine cloth, with their banners and
insignia; the nine nobles, with their swords and coronets
borne by pages; the nine masters of the streets, with
their swords and keys; the two burgomasters, and a
giant eight feet high (on heels of cork), bearing the
banner of Antwerp, heraldically charged with two human
hands.
Maitre Baudoin informed Gray, in a hasty whisper,
that, in ancient times, a giant named Antwerpen had
lived there amid the swamps, and was wont to cast into
the Scheldt all who displeased him, having previously cut
off their hands ; and this was the legend of the city's coat
armorial.
OUR LADY OF ANTWERP.
169
" And see, messire,? added the little Frenchman, " by
St. Louis here comes one of his teeth !"
As he spoke, an echevin passed, bearing on a silver
platter this palladium of Antwerp—a gigantic human
tooth, said to be " a handbreadth long and sixteen ounces
in weight."
The shouts of wonder and laughter excited by the giant,
with his shaggy black hair and beard, his red, pimpled
nose and mighty scimitar, were hushed when, preceded by
choristers and boys swinging silver censers of incense,
the dean of the cathedral, with his twenty-four canons and
the confraternity of the Holy Circumcision, in all the
splendour of their full canonicals, were seen descending
into the street and passing on amid the flare of a thousand
uplifted torches, a mass of muslin, lace, and embroidery.
Next came the twelve apostles, with their respective
badges, each represented by a handsome young man, and
all clad in flowing robes of brilliant red, blue, or yellow
serge : St. Peter, with his keys, and St. Paul, with a
sword; St. Andrew, with a cross-saltire; St. James
Minor, with a fuller's pole ; St. John, with a cup, out of
which an ingeniously-contrived winged serpent strove to
fly; St. Bartholomew, with a knife ; St. Philip, with a
cross-staff; St. Thomas, with a goodly Flemish partisan ;
St. Mathias, with a battle-axe; St. James Major, with a
pilgrim's staff and gourd j St. Simeon', with a saw; and
St. Jude, with a club.
Then came an effigy of Judas, with a red beard, dragged
by the headsman of the city, and surrounded by a score
of merry imps, with horns and tails, all whooping and
dancing, as if eager to convey his soul to the shades
below; and their tricks and gambols filled the crowd
with laughter.
170
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
The princess of Raven stien, robed in pure white, with
a diadem sparkling on her brow, a palm-branch in one
hand and a flaming sword in the other, was borne past
as St. Catherine upon a car, the wheels of which were
concealed by flowing drapery.
Preceded by his banner, next came the abbot of St.
Michael, an edifice founded by a son of the Palatine,
Count Herbert of Picardie ; and then, under a canopy
borne by the marquises of Antwerp and Berg, the counts
of Bommel and Nassau, came the bishop of Mechlin,
with his crozier and mitre, his vestments glittering with
precious stones and massive embroidery, and all the
clergy of the diocese following, with their hands crossed
on their breasts, and their eyes lowered on the earth, in
token of Christian piety and humility.
But now the excitement reached its height, while
something of awe was mingled with the hushed curiosity
of the people, and every mailed soldier held his streaming
torch aloft, when twelve stout monks of St. Michael's
Abbey, all marching slowly in their black cassocks, ap-
proached, with a species of throne upon their shoulders, and
on^that throne sat a female, who represented our Lady of
Antwerp.
This chair seemed a veritable blaze of precious stones,
as the ladies of the city yearly contributed their jewels to
decorate it. Little children, dressed as seraphs, with
snow-white wings, nestled at its base, and over it there
seemed to float a curiously-contrived silver cloud, amid
which shone thirteen stars, that sparkled in the light of
the torches.
The lady who personated the Virgin in this strange
procession was said to be very beautiful, so Gray pressed
vigorously forward to obtain a glimpse of her; and his
OUR LADY OF ANTWERP.
171
resolute aspect, his scarred face and athletic form, his
long sword and shirt of mail, repressed even the officious
petulance of the men-at-arms, who would have thrust
him back as a stranger, or one who was unknown to
them; and little Maitre Baudoin profited by this influ-
ence to secure a good place, and rubbed his hands with
nervous ecstasy.
On came the marching monks with the glittering
throne, and Sir Patrick Gray could see that they bore up
a beautiful female figure, clad in robes of the greatest
value—for gold, silver, and precious stones were lavished
in their adornment, while a glory, composed of diamonds,
sparkled and blazed around her sweet young face, which
expressed, alternately, alarm, awe, and pleasure at the
scene below, and the part she felt so honoured by enact-
ing before so vast a multitude.
Maitre Baudoin, who clung to the skirt o* Gray's pour-
point, uttered loud exclamations of rapture; but the
Captain of the Guard was voiceless as one whom Heaven
had stricken dumb ; for how great was his bewilderment,
how deep were his emotions, how profound his surprise,
on recognizing in the damsel who was borne past on that
brilliant throne, as our Lady of Antwerp, the. features of
Murielle Douglas—his own Murielle—whom he fondly
believed to be far away in the wilds of Galloway !
172
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
CHAPTER XXIV.
MAITRE BAUDOIN.
fhou seest we are not all alone unhappy
This wide and universal theatre
Presents more woeful pageants than the scene
Wherein we play in.—As You Like It.
Sir Patrick Gray so entirely lost his self-possession,
that he was rapidly swept away, jostled, tossed and pushed
here and there, by a rush of the crowd, who were making
off to another part of the city where the procession
would again be seen as it passed; so, after futilely strug-
gling, and even fighting in some instances, he found bim-
self in a dark street near one of the many bridges of the
Scheldt, which flows through Antwerp by no less than
eight channels, and there he paused, alone and breathless,
with one hand pressed on his brow and the other on his
sword.
Was it a dream, or a phantom raised by his nerves or
organs of vision being disturbed by the terrible wounds
he had received, and by the long and feverish hours of
illness and agony he had endured in the castle of Edin-
burgh ?
Again and again he asked this question of himself,
without being able to resolve the matter satisfactorily.
He heard the bells of the cathedral still tolling; he
saw the variegated lamps that glittered on its glorious
spire ; he heard even the hum of the distant multitude ;
but he dared not return and trust himself to look again,
lest he might become mad, for already his brain felt weak
and giddy, and he cast a haggard glance at the dark, still
M AIT RE BAUDOIN.
173
water that flowed with mud and slime under the quaint
old bridge of the Scheldt, as strange wild thoughts
occurred to him, but he thrust them aside with shame.
He looked back to the cathedral, and again he seemed
to see that fair young face with its diamond tiara, and the
almost ethereal form, with the finest and snowiest of
Mechlin lace floating like a cloud of frostwork, cold and
pure, about it. In a foreign city, amid more than two
hundred thousand inhabitants, his chances of discovering
who this lady was, and how she bore a resemblance so
marvellous, became very slender, if she were known alone
to the bishop, who made it part of his sacred drama or
mystery to preserve her incognito from all—even from
his clergy.
Had he been less a lover—had he waited, he might
have seen other faces nearly as familiar as that of Murielle,
though less startling and bewildering; but, swept away
as he had been by the crowd, and having neither power nor
presence of mind to regain his place, he saw no more of
the procession ; and, after long wandering, he thought of
returning home.
The night was now considerably advanced ; the cathe-
dral bells had ceased to toll; the lights had disappeared
amid the delicate traceries of its spire ; there were neither
moon nor stars, and there came not a breath of wind to
disperse the frowsy vapour that overhung the city, and
which rose from the many branches of the Scheldt. Sir
Patrick had lost his way; his ignorance of the language
and of the vast old city forced him to wander to and fro,
vainly searching for his hostelry, " the Grille of St. Lau-
rence;" but day dawned before he discovered it and pre-
sented himself, to the joy of Maitre Baudoin, who feared
that he had become embroiled with some of the bishop's
174
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
men-at-arms, or the Marquises Brabanciones, in the
citadel—a surmise which naturally led the maitre to
ponder upon the value of Sir' Patrick's horse and its
housings, and also of his cloakbag, which might thereby
fall into his possession.
" How came you to leave me, messire, in such a hurry
and at such a time 1" asked the little Frenchman.
Gray frankly told him that he'' thought—indeed that
he was almost certain—he had recognized a dear friend
in the damsel who appeared as our Lady of Antwerp.
" Ah, Mere de Dieu ! do you say so 1" exclaimed
Maitre Baudoin, with sudden interest," then who is she ? "
" That is exactly what I wish to know; and shall
know, too, ere noon be past."
" Ay, ay, pwrdieu ! but no one can tell you."
" Hone !"
" Save Monseigneur l'Eveque himself."
" The bishop of Mechlin ? "
" Yes, messire."
" I will fly to him !"
" But he left tlie city after the show was over. I saw
him myself, as with all his knights and men-at-arms, and
with several ladies "
" Ladies, say you ?"
" Yes, in horse-litters ; he passed out by the gate of
St. James."
" For where ? " asked Gray, starting up.
" I know not."
" Do none in Antwerp know ?" asked Gray, impa-
tiently.
" Some say for Mechlin—others for Breda."
" Get me a fleet horse, Maitre Baudoin—X can pay
you well—I must see this bishop—"
MAITRE BAUDOIN.
175
" Horses 1—do you mean to ride to both places at
once ?"
" No—to tlie nearest first."
" Wain, vain, messire," said the hosteller, shrugging
his shoulders, " be assured that he will not tell you."
" Not if I implore him to do so 1"
" Not if you dashed out your brains—morbleu 1
"Where did the lady go after the procession dispersed?"
" Back to the cathedral—it is the custom."
" Oh ! she may be there yet."
" Ouf messire ! would you have a pretty girl to sleep
all night among these cold marble knights and dead
bishops ? She has left it, of course ; but amid the thou-
sands who have left or are leaving the city, and the great
trains of the prince of Bavenstein, the counts of Nassau,
Bommel, and others, now departing by all our gates and
bridges, the task of tracing and discovering her would be
no sinecure."
Sir Patrick stamped his right foot with vexation.
" If I had your devil of a bishop on Scottish ground, I
would soon wrench the secret out of him."
" Perhaps so, messire ; but he has at Mechlin an ugly
wheel whereon folks are sometimes broken alive; and
that is not pleasant. Is messire sure that he recognized
the lady 1"
" Sure, Maitre Baudoin, as that I now speak to you.
Oh! I would know that sweet face among ten thou-
sand."
" Sweet—hum;" the little Frenchman began to get
quite interested ; " is she a countrywoman of messire ?"
" Yes."
" A sister 1" persisted the hosteller, who burned with
curiosity.
176
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
« No—no."
" Perhaps she is the mother of messire 1"
" Prater, how thou talkest ! she is my best beloved—
my betrothed wife ! " said Gray, with enthusiasm.
" Liable ! Bon Dieu ! " exclaimed Baudoin, making
a pirouette. " Messire must not despair."
" I do not despair, Maitre Baudoin; but I am sorely
bewildered," said poor Gray, passing a hand across his
scarred forehead.
" Messire, with your permission, I shall tell you a
little story."
" Say on, my friend."
" Have you perceived near the church of Jesus—-just
about thirty paces from it—a well, covered with curious
ironwork ?"
" Yes ; what about it ? "
" The branches from which the pulley hangs are rich
with foliaged work of iron, and are deemed a miracle of
skill. They were the chef d'ceuvre of a famous young
smith of Antwerp who dearly loved the daughter of a
great painter, and desired greatly to win his esteem; so
he lavished all the energies of his soul, and all the
cunning of his hands, all his skill and experience, upon
that piece of ironwork ; but when it was finished, mon-
sieur the painter viewed it coldly, and said, crustily,
" ' I cannot agree to have you for a son-in-law.'"
" ' I am rich, young, and skilful,' urged the unfortu-
nate lover. ' I am a smith.'
" 4 For that very reason you shall not have my daugh-
ter; for she shall wed a painter, and a painter only !'
" Our smith did not lose heart, but he threw his
beloved hammer into the well, where it lies to this day;
he assumed the pencil and palette, and after working
MAITRE BAUDOIN.
177
assiduously, he rapidly became a master in the art; he
excelled even the surly old painter who had disdained
him ■ he won for himself a high position in our city, and
with it his beautiful young mistress ; and all this you
may see graven on the brass plate of their tomb, near the
gate of the cathedral. But does messire hear me 1"
" Yes; but, pry thee, Maitre Baudoin, what the devil
bas all this story about painters and smiths, palettes and
draw-wells, to do with me ?"
" Everything."
" How 1 I am not in a humour for jesting."
" It is a homily," said the Frenchman, with a low
bow.
" Leave homilies to monks and friars; but for what is
yours meant ?"
" To teach you to hope much and to persevere long
even as that poor lover persevered and hoped."
Three days longer Gray lingered in Antwerp, search-
ing and inquiring everywhere in vain, till at last, in
despair of unravelling the mystery, on the subsidence of
the waters of the Maese, he ordered his horse, bade adieu
to the gossiping Maitre Baudoin, and set out for the
court of the duke of Gueldres ; having at last all but
convinced himself that the face which he had recognized
in our Lady of Antwerp was the creation of his own
imagination, or at most some very remarkable resem-
blance.
Yet it was no vision he had seen during the night of
that festival—but Murielle Douglas herself—the veri-
table object of all his hope and love.
We have already stated that the earl of Douglas had
left Scotland ostensibly to visit Pope Eugene IY., taking
with him the countess, Murielle, and a brilliant train.
N
178
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
The latter, says Tytler (in his " History of Scotland
consisted of six knights, with their own suites and attend-
ants, and fourteen gentlemen of the best families in the
realm, with a retinue of eighty men-at-arms on Horse-
back. Among these were Sir John Forrester, of Corstor-
phine; Sir Alan Lauder, of the Bass; William Camp-
bell, thane of Cawdor and constable of the castle of
Nairne—" all knights," adds Lindesay, of Pitscottie,
£: whose convoy maid the earle so proud and insolent,
that he represented a kingis magnificence wherever he
went. Out of Flanderis he passed to France, and out of
France to Italie, and so forwardis to Borne, where the
Bomanes having knowledge of his cuming, mett him with
an honourable companie, and veri princelie receaved him
within the toun."
In this quotation, however, we are somewhat anti-
cipating the course of events, for Gray and Murielle were
yet to meet before the earl and his retinue left Flanders
to visit the court of Charles VII. of France.
snick and snee.
179
CHAPTER XXV.
snick and snee.
Murder, madam ! 'Tis self-defence. Besides, in these skirmishes
there are never more than two or three killed ; for, supposing they
bring the whole body of militia upon us, down with a brace of them
and away fly the rest of the covey!—The Lying Valet.
Gray had been repeatedly warned by the friendly
hosteller, Maitre Baudoin, to beware of travelling in the
dusk after passing the boundary of the marquisate of
Antwerp, as hordes of disbanded Brabanters and "Wal-
loons, the refuse of the wars between Charles of France
and the duke of Burgundy, were lurking among the
thick woods that lay about Endhoven, and in the then
great swampy wilderness, known as the Peel Morass;
and these outlaws were led by a kind of leader whom they
all tacitly acknowledged, Count Ludwig of Endhoven,
who had been expelled from the Burgundian army for his
barbarous and outrageous conduct, after having his spurs
hacked from his heels, and his coat of arms publicly riven
and defaced, by order of Philip the Good.
Gray thanked Maitre Baudoin for his friendly warn-
ing, and rode on his way, like a soldier and a careless
fellow as he was, thinking no more about it.
Refreshed by the halt at Antwerp, his horse carried
him with great speed next day. He passed Nonne
Kloster, and towards evening, found himself approaching
Endhoven, in Brabant, after a fifty-miles' ride.
At the verge of the flat horizon, the sun was setting,
ut through the evening haze, its light shed a goldei
n 2
180
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
lustre upon everything,—the quaint farmhouses, the sum-
mer woods, the sluggish canals and browsing cattle,—cast-
ing far across the fields the shadow of every village spire
and poplar tree; hut now here and there rose little hills or
swelling eminences to relieve the tedium of the scenery,
for tedious it was to a Scottish eye, though the fruitful
soil was cultivated like a garden, for he was in the land
of cheese, milk, and butter.
Two miles from the town of Endhoven, stood a wayside
hostelry, of quaint aspect, overshadowed by a gigantic
oak-tree, on one of the lower branches of which swung its
signboard, and under which were placed a rough table
and benches for the accommodation of those who choose
to loiter there, and refresh them in the open air.
• Weary and athirst, Gray alighted from his horse, and
knocking with his dagger hilt on the table, brought forth
the tapster, who had been observing his approach, from
the ivy-covered porch of the hostelry, which seemed to be
literally a mass of green leaves, with quaint gablets, and
chimneys sticking up in all directions, and curious little
windows, peeping out, without order, regularity, or archi-
tectural design.
In a jargon, half Flemish and partly French, "eked"
out with a word or two of Scottish, Gray ordered a flask
of wine for himself, and a feed of corn for his horse,
which was led into the stables.
While drinking his wine, and pondering whether he
should halt there for the night, or push on to Endhoven,
the evening bells of which were ringing in the distance,
the sound of voices at an open window made him aware
that several fellows of a very rough aspect were observing
him from a room, where they seemed to be drinking and
playing with dice, and. doubtless, they would have been
SN10K AND SNEE.
181
smoking too, bad that useful mode of spending time and
money been discovered.
On turning from them, his attention was next arrested
by perceiving a knife, formed somewhat like a dagger,
dangling at the end of a string, from the lower branch of
the tree under which he sat, and there it swung to and
fro in the wind.
Each time he raised his eyes to this knife, he heard
loud laughter, and a clapping of hands among those who
were evidently observing him ; and though resolving, if
possible, to avoid all brawls, his brow flushed, and his
heart beat quicker, on finding himself, as he conceived,
insulted by a rabble of Flemish boors.
But in his ignorance of the customs of the country, he
knew not that the knife was hung thus as a challenge to
snick and snee, as it was named, a combat then common
among the lower classes in Flanders, as it was in Holland,
in later years.
The bravest or most rash bully of a village or district,
usually hung up his knife thus, in some conspicuous
place, as the knights of chivalric days were wont, in a
warlike fit, to obstruct the high roads, by hanging their
shields on a bridge, or by the wayside, to invite all
comers, and whoever touched or took the weapon down was
compelled to fight the proprietor, or be branded as a coward.
Before engaging, the combatants sometimes tested their
strength of arm, by driving their knives into a deal
board, and then they were only permitted to use so much
of the blade as had penetrated; others broke off the points.
On closing, each used his cap or hat as a shield, to pro-
tect his face ; but such encounters seldom ended until
one, sometimes both duellists, had their cheeks, noses,
and foreheads slashed and disfigured.
182
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
TLe knife in question, a long, sharp, and assassin-like
weapon, continued to swing to and fro within arm's-
length of Gray, who, on perceiving something engraved
on the buckhorn haft of it, took it in his hand for exa-
mination ; on this a shout of exultation, too boisterous to
pass unnoticed, came from the topers in the hostelry.
Sir Patrick had only time to perceive that a coronet
and the letter E were engraven on the handle, when he
tore it down, and dashed it right through the latticed
window where it fell among those whose mirth seemed so
easily excited.
After the silence of a moment, a storm of oaths and
threats, mingled with shouts and drunken laughter,
greeted this act of hostility, and from the door of the
tavern there issued six men, all tattered in dress, bloated
by drinking, ruffianly in aspect, and all variously armed
with swords, daggers, and mauls. Three of tbem had
rusty helmets and breastplates, which had evidently seen
much service.
On the approach of this unexpected rabble, Gray
quietly drained the last of his wine, threw down the
price thereof, and then starting up, laid his hand on his
sword, as one who seemed to be the leader, came boldly
and brusquely up to him.
Tall, strongly made, and atheletic in form, this per-
sonage presented a curious combination of character in his
features, which were naturally noble and handsome, but
disguised by the masses of his uncombed hair, distorted
by ferocity, and bloated by drunkenness. He wore a pair
of enormous moustaches, which were twisted up almost
to his ears ; his attire, which had once been richly laced,
was full of rents and holes. He wore a cuirass and back-
plate, on each of which a coat of arms was engraved ; his
SNICK AND SNEE.
183
neck being destitute of gorget, revealed by its bareness
that he was not proprietor of a shirt; a battered helmet,
from which the barred vizor had been struck in some
battle or brawl, covered his head ; his gauntlets and boots
were of different fashions; he carried a short battle-axe
in his right hand, and in his left the knife which Gray
had just tossed through the window.
"Sangdieu !" he exclaimed, in French; "do you know
the penalty incurred by what you have done, messire ?"
" I neither know nor care," replied Gray, coolly ; and
then turning to the hosteller—a fat old Flemish boor, who
had also come forth, and was trembling at the prospect of
a fray upon his premises—he added, " Maitre, please you
to bring my horse—and do so instantly, as I have no
desire to cross my sword with this fellow and his coqui-
naitte."
At this epithet,, which signifies " a pack of rascals,"
they uttered a simultaneous shout, and raised their
weapons, but Gray confronted them resolutely with his
drawn sword.
" My horse, I tell you, fellow, lest I cut you in two !"
he reiterated to the loitering hosteller. On this, his roan,
the same horse ridden by him when Earl William entered
Edinburgh, was brought at once towards the tree, but the
armed rabble placed themselves between it and the
proprietor.
"Does messire mean to fight me. whom he has in-
suited and challenged by touching this knife," demanded
the leader ; " or der Teufel, does he mean to "
" What !" said Gray, " be wary of your words, sir."
" To fly like a coward ?" said the other, with a German
oath,
134
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUAED.
" I do not fight with every ignoble ruffian I may meet;
there are some whom I would disdain to chastise, and
thou, fellow, art one ! Yet, if the hosteller would but
bring me a good heavy whip, I would make you dance to
a tune of your own."
" Sangdieu ! do you know to whom you are speaking 1"
cried the other, whose rage completely sobered him.
" Some robbers or outlaws, I suppose."
" A robber—yes, for misfortune. has made me so ; an
outlaw—yes, for tyrants made me so ; but I am your
equal, and perhaps superior, for all that !"
" Indeed ! Then who the devil are you, that thus
molest peaceful people on the open highway 1"
" 1 am Ludwig, count of Endhoven!"
Gray started on hearing the name of the very per-
sonage against whom Maitre Baudoin had so solemnly
warned him ; but, inspired with an emotion of pity for
nobility fallen so low, he took his purse from his girdle,
and said, " Humour says you have been a soldier : I am
one, and will share what I have with you ; but first
you must stand aside from between me and my horse, as I
can brook no intimidation."
The other laughed scornfully, and said, " In the first
place, messire, it was from being a soldier that Philip of
Burgundy made me a thief, and changed my cote d'armes
into a beggar's gabardine. In the second, I do not ask
for that which I can take by force ; in the third, I
obey no man's orders—yours least of all, when horse and
purse, and all you possess, are my lawful spoil."
As he spoke, he made a sudden rush forward, with
the intention of tearing away the purse from Sir Patrick,
who, quick as thought, sprang back, and received hin^
SNICK AND SNEE.
185
right upon the point of his sword, with a force which
made the iron corslet ring, and stretched its wearer on
the earth.
With a shout of rage, he sprang to his feet, swinging
his axe in both hands, and, with his five companions,
surrounded Gray. Sharp was the conflict that ensued,
and most likely it would have terminated fatally for him ;
for although he dealt many a severe wound, it was long
since he had thus used his sword; and since that fatal
day, after " the Black Dinner," his wrists had been weak
and stiff: but now the distant tramp of horses was heard,
and the hosteller, to scare the combatants from his pre-
mises, exclaimed, " Gott in Himmel! Herr Count, here
comes the burg graf of Gueldres, with his banner and
escort !"
On hearing this, Count Ludwig, whose face was stream-
ing with blood from a slash Gray had given him, accom-
panied by his five companions, sprang over a hedge close
by, and, taking to flight, sought refuge where horsemen
dared not follow them, among the recesses of a swampy
forest.
They had scarcely been gone three minutes, and Sir
Patrick had just recovered his breath and equanimity,
when a grey-bearded cavalier, all armed save the head
(for his helmet hung at his saddle-bow), rode up, attended
by three knights, who each wore the jewel and mantle of
the Golden. Fleece of Burgundy, and by twenty men-at-
arms on horseback, one of whom, an esquire, carried a
long lance with a square banner, charged with the lion of
Gueldres.
186
the captain of the guard.
CHAPTER XXVI.
the royal letter.
O mony a mile Sir Patrick rode
Throughout the border land ;
To gie that letter braw and braid,
Into the earlis hand.—Old Ballad.
Reining in his horse, while all his party did the same?
the elder gentleman, who was without the helmet, but
wore a plumed cap, and who appeared to be the leader,
hastily addressed Gray in German, but finding that he
did not reply, repeated his question in French.
" There has. been fighting here, messire ?"
"As you may plainly see," replied Gray quietly, while
carefully wiping 'his sword-blade, for the lofty bearing of
the speaker displeased him.
"About what did you quarrel?"
" Faith, I can scarcely tell you."
" Speak, messire !" said the other, authoritatively.
" A knife that hung from the branch of a tree, it would
seem. You have strange fashions among you here in
Gueldres," said Gray, with returning anger.
" You are not yet in old Gueldreland, but in Brabant,"
replied the other; "you appear to be a stranger ?"
"Yes, messire, I am a stranger," replied Sir Patrick,
who had now mounted, gathered up his reins, and had
his horse fully in hand, ready for any emergency, and
resolved to admit of no molestation.
" May I ask what object takes you towards Gueldre-
land ?"
" You may, messire, but what if I decline to reply ?"
THE ROYAL LETTER.
187
" I can prove that I have the right to ask such ques-
tions, and to enforce answers."
" I am come from the court of Scotland to visit old
Duke Arnold—is he in Gueldres 1"
" No j in Brabant."
"That is unfortunate."
"Not so much so as you suppose. But with wnom
were you fighting ?"
" Those who fought with me : some outlaws, to all ap-
pearance, but they got more than they gave."
" Outlaws 1" reiterated the armed horseman with dis-
pleasure.
" A rabble led by one who called himself Count Ludwig
of Endhoven."
" Ha !" exclaimed the other, while all his followers
uttered exclamations expressive of surprise and interest.
" Is it thus," said Gray, " your lords of Gueldres amuse
themselves upon the highway 1"
" I tell you, messire, that you are in Brabant. So these
were Ludwig and his Brabanciones ? I would give a
thousand guilders for his head ! But there was blood
upon your sword 1"
" I laid Count Ludwig's cheek open from eye to
chin."
" Then beware you, messire: he is cruel as a pagan,
and revengeful as an Italian; and he will track you and
seek you day and night while you are among us, to work
you mischief, unless, in the interim, he is broken alive
upon the wheel by some burg graf or burgomaster. You
are going, you say, to the court of the duke of
Gueldres 1"
" Where I am not likely to arrive soon if I remain
chattering here," replied Gray coldly, as he disliked
188
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
the inquisitorial manner of his questioner, who laughed
and said,—
" Are you seeking knight-service ? If so, you had
better turn your horse's head towards Burgundy, where
Duke Philip III. is putting his sword to the grind-
stone."
" Nay, messire," replied Gray, with increasing displea-
sure ; " I have come on a mission from the court of
Scotland, where I have the honour to be Captain of the
King's Guard."
"Your name?"
" Sir Patrick Gray, younger of that ilk."
" And this mission 1" said the other hastily.
" Concerns not you, messire, but the marriage of the
Princess Mary d'Egmont," replied Gray, moving his horse
away.
" To your young king ?—good. You have, then, a
letter for—for the duke ?" said the other, following
him.
"Yes."
" Permit me to see it. Excuse me, messire, but I have
both reason and authority for my request."
Gray, who thought he had been rather unwise in
stating the object of his mission to a total stranger, re-
luctantly opened a pocket in his saddlelap, and drew forth
a large square letter, which was covered with a silken
wrapper, tied with white ribbon crosswise, and sealed
with yellow wax, the colour used by the kings of Scotland
and France.
" Messire, you will perceive that it is correctly ad-
dressed," said Sir Patrick; " and it is my best credential
for being reserved."
" Exactly; I thank you," replied the other, taking
THE ROYAL LETTER.
189
the letter in his gauntletted hand, and deliberately tearing
it open.
" Messire !" exclaimed Gray, furiously, as he drew his
sword; " are you mad, or weary of life, that you dare to
open a letter "
" For Arnold d'Egmont, count of Zutphen, and duke
of Gueldres, you would say ?"
" Yes, surrender it, messire, or by every saint in heaven,
I shall kill you where you stand!"
"Beware—beware!" exclaimed some of the attendants,
lowering their lances.
" And why beware V demanded the sturdy Scot.
" Because I am Arnold himself," replied the old duke,
with a hearty laugh, in which the three knights of the
Golden Fleece joined.
" You, monseigneur ?" said Gray, sinking the point of
his sword, and reining back his horse.
"Behold my banner and escort, with Bavenstein, Berg,
and Nassau, my three most faithful friends."
" Pardon me," said Gray, sheathing his sword, and rein-
ing back his horse.
" I have nothing to pardon, Sir Patrick Gray," replied
the duke ; " we shall all ride forward together, but this
letter, which you have travelled so far to lay before me,
is written in the young king's name, and announces, that
so soon as affairs are peaceful in his kingdom, his lord
chancellor, accompanied by John, bishop of Dunkeld, and
Messire Nicholas Otterbourne, official of Lothian, with a
suitable train, will visit our court at Gueldres, to receive
the,Princess Mary, and conduct her to her new home.
Poor child ! she is very young and tender, to be trusted
among your unruly mountaineers. The letter shall be
laid before the duchess and council. Meantime, messire,
190
the captain of the guard.
I thank you for the care with which you have brought
hither the missive of your king, and the valour with which
you were ready to defend it, at all hazards, even against
four-and-twenty mounted men."
Sir Patrick bowed low, and kissed the hand which the
duke extended towards him.
" You will ride on with us, Sir Patrick," he resumed.
" I have a hunting-lodge near Ylierden, on this side, of
Peel Morass, seventeen miles distant. There we gjji'all
halt for to-night, and to-morrow depart for the capital."
CHAPTER XXYII.
the castle of endhoven.
I behold the pageants splendid
That adorned those days of old;
Stately dames like queens attended,
Knights who wore the Fleece of Gold.
Longfellow.
The three knights who wore the Golden Fleece of
Burgundy, proved to be the prince of Ravenstein, the
marquis of Berg, and Englebert, count of Nassau, who
was hereditary burg graf, or governor of Antwerp, and
who, when a mere boy, in 1404, had espoused the heiress
of Loeke and Breda. The prince of Ravenstein's terri-
tory lay between Gueldres and Brabant; it is now merged
in the duchy of Cleves, but his castle still stands near the
Maese.
Gueldres was an ancient and then very powerful
dukedom, though it shrank to a petty state after the
declaration of independence by the maritime provinces
THE CASTLE OF ENDHOVEN.
191
of the Netherlands in 1579, when it lost Nimeguen, the
county of Zutphen, and Arnheim, and afterwards Rure-
mond, which was made over to Prussia ; and since then,
these portions have frequently changed their masters and
form of government.
In the days of Arnold d'Egmont .the duchy contained
sixteen cities, two hundred and thirty villages," five great
fortresses, and a vast number of castles.
The old duke treated Gray with great condescension,
and conversed freely with him as they rode on together.
He inquired in what battle Gray received the severe
wound the mark of which yet remained upon his face;
and for the first time since he had left Scotland, our hero
felt his heart glow with petty anger, in having to acknow-
ledge that he had gained it in a mere street brawl with
the enemies of the king,—the adherents of the turbulent
and unruly house of Douglas.
" Tete Dieu ! " said the duke ; " that is the family which
gives the king, your master, so much trouble. By Saint
Louis, I would make quick work in disposing of them."
" They can bring twenty thousand men into the field,"
urged Sir Patrick.
" The great lord of Douglas is now in Flanders."
" Here—here in Flanders !" exclaimed Gray.
" Not in my territories; but on the other side of
Brabant, and when last heard of he was travelling with a
brilliant train of knights towards Breda, for the purpose
of visiting that city, after which he passes forward to
France. He was at the Feast of the Assumption in
Antwerp, but proudly and haughtily kept aloof from all."
This unexpected intelligence filled Gray with emotions
of a varied character, and solved a great mystery, the
recollection of which had greatly troubled him.
192 THE CAPTAIN OP THE GUARD.
It was, then, really Murielle Douglas whom he had
seen, and no visionary or fancied resemblance; and he
felt a glow of pleasure at the conviction that he had
looked upon her face so recently, that he had breathed
the same air with her; and that even now she was
separated from him, . not by the stormy German Ocean,
and many a league of hill and glen ; but only by a few
miles of level land, and he mentally resolved, at every
hazard and danger, that on leaving the duke of Gueldres,
he would follow the Douglases to Breda, and that if they
had departed, he would track them elsewhere ; so power-
ful a noble, with so brilliant a retinue, would be easily
traced in Flanders.
Pleasure, anticipation, and excitement, made him
alternately gay and abstracted ; thus he could barely
attend with becoming reverence to the kind old prince
who, being anxious to make a favourable impression on
one who seemed the trusted subject of his intended son-
in-law, drew his attention to the various castles, spires,
and other features of the country, beguiling the way by
many a story and legend, as they rode towards his hunt-
ing-lodge, at which they were to pass the night.
It stood upon the Gueldrian side of the Peel Morass.
The latter included great tracts of land now dry and
fertile, which were then deep swamps ; and strange old
stories lingered there, of broken dykes and bursting
sluices—of overflowings from the Waal, and Maese, with
inundations from the Zuider Zee, by which whole farms
were swept away, strong castles overthrown, and villages
submerged ; and of mermaids and mermen being swept
by the retiring waters to flounder in the slough until
they were captured ; and the duke averred that in the
days of his ancestor, Reinold II., duke of Gueldres, two
THE CASTLE OF ENDIIOVEN.
193
had been instructed in Christianity and taught to make
reverence to a crucifix,—a story corroborated in later
times.
The "History of the Seven United Provinces," pub-
lished at London in 1705, tells us, that " one day, when
the sea had broken the banks and overflowed one part of
the country, some young damsels of Ednam, going in a
boat to milk their cows, found a nymph, or sea-woman,
who lay half-covered in the mud, after the waters had
been drained off. They drew her out and carried her to
Ednam, where they taught her to spin and dress herself
like other women ; but they could not teach her to speak,
nor lose the inclination which she had to return to her
former element. There is an author who pretends that
they imprinted in her some knowledge of a God, and that
she made her reverence as she passed a crucifix. But it
was not in Holland only," adds the historian, " that they
found mermen in those days. There were some taken on
the coast of Norway, which had on them the cross, the
mitre, and all the pontifical habits of a bishop ; but they
only sighed after they were taken, and died very quickly."
Night had closed when the party reached the hunting-
lodge, which was an old castle of some extent and con-
siderable antiquity.
" This," said the duke, " is the hereditary mansion of
the counts of Endhoven; and under its roof Count Ludwig,
the last of that line, was born."
" Where he is not likely to die," added the count of
Nassau.
"Since his attainder it has been mine."
" There is a strange story connected with it—or rather
with the parents of Ludwig," said the count of Nassau, b
noble with a long grave and pleasing countenance,
o
194
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
" His father was a cruel passionate and vindictive
man, who used his countess so barbarously that she was
wont to carry a dagger in her boddice, for her protection.
Six months after Ludwig was born, she died of a broken
heart, and the dagger, as she requested with her last
breath, was buried with her. For a few weeks the count
drank deeply, gamed and hunted, it seemed to all, as if
to drown thought; but after a time he recovered, and to
lighten the old castle, which seemed so grim and gloomy
now, he carried off a beautiful peasant girl from the
neighbourhood of Endhoven. Long and bitterly did the
girl weep, on finding herself in his power, and earnestly
she prayed to be permitted to return to her parents and
to* her lover, with whom she had been on the point of
marriage ; but the wild count only laughed, and forced
her to drink cup after cup of Rhenish wine, and to sing
and play on her ghittern.
" One day, when he was caressing and endeavouring to
console her in his own rough way, he swore a terrible
oath that he would love her till death, and no one else !
" Believe him not!" exclaimed a hollow voice behind—
a voice like that of the dead countess. At the same mo-
ment a lean and wasted arm and hand, grasping a dagger,
came out of the stone wall, and the count fell dead,
stabbed to the heart !
" In his breast was found the countess's dagger—the
same weapon that had been buried with her !"
As the count of Nassau concluded this strange stoiy,
they rode through the dark archway into the barbican of
the castle, which seemed old and gloomy, even to Gray,
who had come from a land of grim and guarded fortresses.
THE COURT OF GUELDRES.
195
CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE COURT OF GUELDRES.
Here he saw the king approaching,
And he ended gallantly ;
Left the crowd of knights about him,
Bending to the king his knee.
Poetry op Spain.
As we have much to narrate, we must hasten over the
mere diplomacy in which the captain of the guard was
concerned.
Next day the duke's party traversed the marshes of
Peeland, and reached the city of Gueldres. A fleet horse-
man having been sent on before, Gray was received with
considerable state at the ducal castle, in honour of the
king, his master.
The capital city of Gueldres was then surrounded by
marshes which added materially to its security, by making
all approaches to it difficult and dangerous to invaders or-
strangers. It was girt by ramparts and deep trenches,
through which flowed the river Niers, and thus' it was
deemed the strongest place in Flanders.
It was a curious little town of narrow streets, over-
shadowed by galleried houses of quaint aspect, with
projecting eaves and steep roofs ; old churches, grim and
mysterious in architecture ; and convents with high and
sombre walls. The mass of the population seemed to be
industrious Flemish artisans, mingled with the usual
number of peasants, who brought their wares to market;
fowled monks, dozing at the gates in the sunshine ; and
Aelmeted men-at-arms dicing and drinking in the
hostelries.
o 2
196
±iE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
Twenty great bombards were fired from the ramparts
of the ducal castle, as a salute in honour of Sir Patrick's
arrival, and the great banner of the duchy, azure a lion or
crowned, for Gueldres; with a lion gules for Zutphen,
was displayed on the keep, while a body of knights,
archers, and well-mounted men-at-arms stood in military
array within the gates. Gueldres was then famous for
its cavalry, and for the spirit of its people, who were
deemed so warlike, that to lessen their military genius
and secure the possession of that province in his family,
Charles V., in after times, excluded its natives from his
armies.
The great ducal fortress, a portion of which was built
in 87 8 by "Wichardus a Ponte, the first lord of Gueldres,
on his marriage with a daughter of the count of Zutphen,
was deemed the strongest castle in the Netherlands, till
its demolition by the Prussians in 1764.
There, in that old castle, situated amid the thick woods
and rushlands, through which theNiers flows towards the
Maese, Gray was presented to the duchess, Katherine of
Cleves ; to her daughter, the future queen of Scotland ;
the little princess Mary, then in • her ninth year ; and to
her brother, prince Adolphus, by whose wickedness in
after years the house of Gueldres was ruined, and its
possessions merged into the line of Burgundy.
For when Adolphus rebelled against his father, old
Arnold d'Egmont, and shut him up in a close prison, he
was disinherited, and his title and patrimony sold in 1473
to Charles the Terrible, Duke of Burgundy, for a yearly
pension of fourscore and ten thousand golden crowns of
the Rhine; but no thought or anticipation had they then
of those dark days that were coming, when civil war and
misrule would rend the land asunder; and so old Duke
THE COURT OP GUELDRES.
197
Arnold feasted royally the knight who had come from
the Scottish court, in presence of all his peers, the knights
of the duchy, the governors of the country districts, and
the deputies of Nimeguen, Arnheim, Ruremoml, and
Zutphen, his four great counties or provinces,
He presented him with a cassock, embroidefcMsl with
gold and precious stones, worth a thousand ducats. The
Duchess Katherine in the name of the princess, her
daughter, entrusted him with a valuable ring for the
young king, her future son-in-law, to whose ministers
letters were prepared, expressive of the pleasure with
which the coming ambassadors would be received.
Four days Sir Patrick remained at the castle of
Gueldres, and then, leaving with impatience to overtake
the Douglases about Breda, he bade adieu to the ducal
court, and was convoyed, as the abbot of Tongland relates,
twelve miles on his way, as far as Wees, by Prince
Adolphus, the counts of Bommel and Nassau, with forty
gentlemen on horseback "in cassocks of brocade, each
with a gold chain at his neck."
Sir Patrick rejoiced when all this ceremony and state
were over; when he was once more alone, and at liberty
to pursue his own way towards Breda, which, however, he
was fated never to reach.
198
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
CHAPTER XXIX.
A STRANGE RENCONTRE.
"I wake to sad reality, the days of youth have fled—.
The flower, the shrub, the velvet turf have long ere now
been dead;
The brook that ran so merrily has ceased to bubble by,
The pebble bed whereon it flowed is broken up and dry."
As Sir Patrick Gray had 110 desire to traverse again
the swampy wastes of the Peel Morass, with the chance of
perhaps encountering, when alone, Ludwig of Endhoven,
and his ruffianly Brabanciones, he took the way which led
towards the principality of Ravenstein, intending to
cross the Maese and travel to Breda through Dutch
Brabant.
Eagerness to see, to meet, to rejoin Murielle, or to
make his presence there known to her, made him travel
without delay ; but in his ignorance of the route, through
a flat country, destitute of those strong natural features,
to which his eyes were accustomed at home, caused him
frequently to make mistakes and detours; thus the
evening of the first day found him only at the town of
Grave, which had a fortress, situated by the margin of the
Maese, and of such strength that it was deemed the Key
of Gueldreland, and had thus been the object of many
a bloody contest between the dukes of Brabant and the
eax-ls of Holland.
As the town was small, he soon found an hostelry, and
delivered his horse to the groom and his sword to the
tapster, according to what was then, and for long after, the
custom in all places of entertainment; but retained his
A STRANGE RENCONTRE.
199
cliain shirt and dagger while he sat at supper in the large
public room, or chamber-of-dais, in which were two
gentlemen, apparently travellers like himself, and simi-
larly employed, in deciding upon the merits of broiled
fowls and a stoup of Burgundy.
Full of his own thoughts and of Murielle, reckoning the
miles of flat and monotonous Flemish "scenery that lay
between them, the hours that must intervene ere he could
see her; the mode in which he should discover himself,
the promises he would exact, and the vows he would
repeat, Gray took no notice of the strangers, who con-
versed freely, and somewhat noisily, over their wine,
their brusquerie of manner appearing to increase as the
twilight deepened with their potations; so that when
Gray was at last roused from his reveries and looked
towards them, the dusk was so great that he could
scarcely discern their features.
They were talking of the proceedings of the great
ecclesiastical council, which was then sitting in the Swiss
archbishopric of Basle, and of the laws it was framing for
the extirpation of heresy—topics upon which all men
were beginning to question, or rather to sound each other,
as such questions, in those days of the stake and faggot,
were fraught with danger. They conversed in French;
but finding that Gray sat resolutely silent, one turned
and said to him abruptly, "Pray, sir, what think you
of Procopius %"
" Of —who ?" said Gray, with hesitation.
" Procopius, the Shaved."
" The leader of the Hussites %"
" Yes—the protesting heretics."
"I think him a bold Bohemian captain," was the
cautious reply.
200
THE CAPTAIN OP THE GUARD.
" What think you of his disputation at the holy council
of Basle ?" continued the other.
" 1 am not capable of judging."
" Peste ! Did he not bear hard on the monks ? "
persisted the querist.
" I am not aware," replied Gray, with increasing reserve,
" as I have not heard; but what said he ?"
" At the head of two hundred gentlemen of his party,
the valiant Procopius came before the council, and stoutly
maintained that monkery was an invention of the devil.
"'Can you prove this?' asked Cardinal St. Julien,
while his face flushed red as his stockings.
"' Yes !' replied the Bohemian, stoutly.
" ' How ?' thundered the cardinal, knitting his brows.
"' Thus ; will you deny that the Saviour did not insti-
tute it ?'
"'We do not.'
"'Then,' quoth Procopius, ' 'tis plainly an invention of
the devil,' whereat H5nies Sylvius Piccolomini "
" He who was in Scotland ?"
" Yes ; burst into a fit of laughter, which however did
not prevent him from committing several poor devils to
the flames in the course of the evening, where they
spluttered and burned bravely for the amusement of all
good Catholics."
"We have had some such work at home, where John
Besby and Paul Crawar have perished at the stake,
for preaching doctrines which some term false and others
simply new."
" How do you term them?" asked the second traveller.
"Sir," replied Gray, "I am a soldier, and, being
neither priest nor clerk may not know the difference."
" So you are of Scotland ?" said the first stranger,
A STRANGE RENCONTRE.
201
suddenly relinquishing his French for the old dialect
then spoken by the upper classes of the northern king-
dom ; "we bid you welcome, as countrymen. Pray join
us—and harkee, tapster, let us have lights and more
wine—we too, sir, are of Scotland."
More Burgundy was promptly brought, and on four
torch-like candles of yellow wax being lighted in four
great brass sconces, Gray was enabled to observe the
aspect and bearing of his fellow travellers, or rather
sojourners at the hostelry.
Both had their hair cut closely round above their ears,
in the unbecoming fashion of twenty years before. They
were moustached, but had their beards and whiskers
shaved off in what was then the Scottish mode ; they
wore armour, with skirts composed of horizontal steel
bands, called taces, with circular epaulets, to protect
the armpits from sword thrusts, with spikes on the
oriellets of their helmets.
The tallest and most handsome forcibly recalled to
Gray's memory the late King James I.; he seemed to
have something of that unhappy monarch's voice too,
but his air and manner, though soldierly and stately,
were reckless and blase, and at times even abrupt and
rough, yet not altogether unpleasing.
The other had pale grey cunning eyes, which were
either bloodshot by dissipation, or reddened by the fire
of innate cruelty, and they twinkled so far apart from
his nose that it appeared almost impossible for him to
see an object with both at once, for each seemed to be
looking at the ear which adjoined it, and his hair and
beard were a fiery red. But what were the emotions of
Gray, and how firmly did he grasp his dagger, while
a gust of fury filled his heart—a fury which he
202
THE CAPTAIN OP THE GUARD.
had great difficulty in repressing—when, in this person
we have just described, he recognized that venal wretch,
James Achanna!
By the light of the sconces the latter and his com-
pan ion had a full view of Gray, but they seemed not
to recognize him, for, as already stated, the ghisarma
of Earl James had laid both cheeks open, thus a hideous
wound traversed his whole face like a livid bar sinister.
It was slowly passing away, however, for the old duchess
of Gueldres had given him a rare balsam, which she said
would effectually efface the scars ; but as yet they, and a
new curl which Gray had fancifully given his moustache,
had so effectually altered his appearance, as to conceal
his identity from this ruffianly swashbuckler of the earl of
Douglas.
" So you are of Scotland, sir ?" resumed the other
traveller.
" I am come from thence but lately," replied Gray;
" and may I ask your names 1"
" Certainly," replied our old acquaintance, with per-
feet confidence ; " I am James Achanna, a gentleman of
the Lord Douglas, a name at which men prick their ears
in Nithsdale. whatever they may do in foggy Elanders."
"And I," said the other, "am the Lord Rosse."
"Rosse!" reiterated Gray; "pardon me, sir, but,
under favour, we have no such lord in Scotland."
" Not when I am out of it," said he, laughing.
" I know not the title," added Gray, coldly.
" Indeed ! one seems to be soon forgotten then. Shall
I state to you more fully that I am Robert Stewart,
duke of Albany and earl of Rosse."
" The son of Duke Murdoch !" exclaimed Gray, start-
ing from his seat with mingled surprise and respect.
A STRANGE RENCONTRE.
203
" Yes ; son of that Duke Murdoch, who, with his
second son, and Duncan, earl of Lennox, was foully
butchered at the Lady's Rock, before the castle gates of
Stirling. Vengeance has a long and bitter memory!
and by that extrajudicial murder, for such I will main-
tain it to be in the face of Europe, I have been since
boyhood an exile, a wanderer, and now, when little more
than thirty years of age, my hair is greyer than my poor
old father's was, when his venerable head rolled in the
sand beneath the doomster's axe."
Gray bowed low, for respect to the royal blood
was strongly graven then in the hearts of the Scots,
in none more than his, and Albany, though exiled and
outlawed, in consequence of the malpractices of his
father (who had been regent during the detention of
James I. in England), was the cousin of Ring James II.
"»And you, sir V asked Albany, loftily.
"I am your grace's most humble servant," replied
Gray pausing, as he dreaded to tell his name before
Achanna, lest it might reveal to the Douglases his royal
mission, and blight his hope of meeting Murielle.
" But your name, sir," said the duke, with growing
displeasure ; " your name ?"
" Yes," added Achanna, imitating him, " we must have
your name."
" I am the laird of Luaig," replied Gray, with ready
wit, taking the name of a little obscure loch, which lies
in a narrow glen near his father's castle of Foulis.
204
the captain of the guard.
CHAPTER XXX.
bold schemes.
Many have ruined their fortunes; many have escaped ruin by
want of fortune. To obtain it the great have become little, and
the little great.—Zimmerman.
" Luaig, laird of Luaig," said Albany, pcnderingly;
" I do not recognize tlie name."
" Lairds are plenty as heather hills in the far north
country," said Achanna, sneeringly.
"And I have been long enough in France and else-
where to forget even my mother tongue, as well as my
dear mother s face ; yet she was Isabel of Lennox," said
Albany, sadly; "but lairds in the north are plenty, I
know."
"And poor as plenty," added Achanna.
" True, sir," said Gray, " and hence my mission here in
Flanders."
" How; I was just about to inquire," observed the
duke ; " seek you knight's service 1"
"Yes ; fortune has made me a free lance."
" And ready to follow any banner 1 "
" Yes ; provided it find me in food, horse, and
armour."
" Then follow we," said Albany, " and ere long, my
friend, I may find work for your sword at home."
" At home ; do you mean in Scotland 1"
"Aye, in Scotland ; how now, Achanna, why the
devil dost twitch my sleeve 1"
" As a warning that your grace should be wary."
" Here thought and speech are free. True, we have
BOLD SCHEMES.
205
not eaten a peck of salt with our new friend, the laird of
Luaig, hut at this distance from that bloody rock which
lies before Stirling gate, we may trust him nevertheless,"
said the reckless Albany, draining his wine cup at a
draught; " wilt follow me, Luaig—is it a bargain 1"
he added, holding out his hand.
" But whither goes your grace ? "
" To tread the same path my hapless father trod,"
replied the duke, with something of dignity and pathos
in his manner.
" It may lead, alas !
" To the same bloody doom, you would say 1"
" Yes ; I would pray your grace to be wary."
" I care not; I shall live and die, Robert Stewart,
duke of Albany and earl of Rosse, if I die not something
better.1'
A cunning smile twinkled in the hawk-like eyes of
the unfathomable Achanna.
" Sit with us, Luaig," said Albany ; " my heart ever
warms to my countrymen, though cold as ice to my little
cousin their king ; and there are times when I hope to
close my eyes peacefully in the same place where they first
saw the light, the old castle of Rothesay by the sea—
the waves that flow through the bonnie kyles of Bute,
and past the hills of Cowal; but of all that more anon.
Sit with us, sir, the more the merrier."
" With this poor stoup of wine 1" said the prosaic
Achanna, peering into the tankard with one of his
canning eyes.
" True, the old saw did. not add that/'' said Albany,
rattling the purse at his girdle $ "but gibe me not
about it. What can be worse than having too much
liquor 1"
206
THE CAPTAIN OP THE GUARD.
" Having none at all," returned the thirsty parasite.
" La/us Deo / you are right, Achanna. Hallo, tapster !
more wine, and quickly too. Think of Robert of
Albany having for a server that slipshod varlet, who
is all breeches and horn "buttons 1 But you seem to
have been severely wounded, laird of Luaig ?"
. "Almost to death," said Gray, and while Achanna,
as if inspired by some undefinable suspicion, surveyed
him keenly, he writhed at having to falsify so much, and
trembled for the next question ; but, on the wine being
placed on the table, the careless Albany filled their cups
to the brim, saying, " Drink, my friend, drink of this,
it comes from the land of old Duke Philip the Good, and
you will find it better than arquebusade," he added,
referring to a medicinal lotion then famous for gun-shot
wounds.
" May I ask in what direction your grace is travel-
ling %" inquired Gray, who had some anxiety in the
matter.
" The direction that suits our fancy," replied Achanna.
"I spoke to the duke of Albany," said Gray, with
a flash in his eye, and a gush of fury through his heart.
" True, and Albany can answer for himself," said the
duke ; " we are travelling with all speed to overtake the
earl of Douglas and his friends."
" Who are now at Breda ?" said Gray, eagerly.
" No ; they are at—how name you the place, Ac-
hanna ?"
" Where %" asked Gray, as the latter hesitated.
" At Bommel."
" Is it distant 1"
"Nay, 'tis thirty miles nearer than Breda, and we
shall reach it to-morrow."
BOLD SCHEMES.
207
•'And to-morrow, perhaps, I may see her" thought
the lover in his heart.
"To the great Earl James of Douglas, Abercorn, and
Avondale, and to our happy meeting," exclaimed Albany,
draining another large cup of wine.
Rendered reckless by years of disappointment, by dis-
sipation, and the mortifications incident to exile and
dependence, the unfortunate young duke, the victim
of circumstances and the treasons of his father, drank,
as seemed to be his wont, deeply; and, as he did so,
unfolded unwittingly no doubt to Gray (and to the great
discomposure of Achanna), the extent and daring of the
designs entertained by the Douglases ; and he continued
to do so, regardless of their more wary and more subtle
follower, who, with one eye glistening apparently on
each, listened impatiently, and seemed to scrutinize Gray
as if he would have read his soul.
That Albany should be plotting with Douglas to
subvert the king's power, or to usurp his crown, did not
excite Gray's wonder; but his heart almost died within
him, when the duke, in a half-serious and half-bantering
way, mentioned incidentally, the proposed firmer and
more lasting alliance between the great earl and himself,
by marriage with Murielle Douglas ; and had it not hap-
pened that the worthy master James Achanna's dagger
fell from its sheath upon the floor, and that he had to
stoop beneath the table to pick it up, keen and sharp as
he was, he could not have failed to remark the pallor
which overspread the lover's face, and the wild light that
flashed in his eyes, at this crushing information. How-
ever, rallying all his energies to seem collected and cool,
after a pause, Gray said,
208
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
" But, under favour, is not your grace contracted to a
daughter of Charles VII. of France."
" Yes; I believe my father, poor duke Murdoch, made
some such arrangement ere his head was cut off—when I
was a child, and his captive nephew, James I., was twang-
ling on his ghittern to Jane Beaufort in the gardens of
Windsor."
" Believe ! are you not certain?" said Gray earnestly.
t: Since I have been among Hussites, Parisians, Bohe-
mians, and Germans, I have been certain of nothing my
friend—not even of my own existence—for this is aland
of fog and philosophy; but I would have been much
more certain of that spousal contract, had Monseigneur
Charles the Victorious been a little more liberal with his
French crowns, and a little less so with his French com-
pliments, as I could live on the first, but not on the second.
Moreover, I think my little princess Badegonde is not
quite pleased with me, since my affair with Madame
d'Armagnac."
" Who is she ?"
" A woman more beautiful than Agnes Sorel—the lady
of beauty. I have seen them both together. And then,
as the devil would have it, I got embroiled with Madame
la Marchale de Loheac, while her patriotic husband was
fighting those insolent English last year in Bretagne and
Anjou."
" But—but, your grace," stammered Gray, who felt as
if he was on the eve of losing his Murielle for ever, "you
are solemnly betrothed to Mademoiselle of France."
" I am—and what then?"
" Such a contract cannot be broken."
" Save by the pope, so the earl of Douglas is now on
BOLD SCHEMES.
209
his way to Rome with Dame Murielle ; I mean to accom-
pany them, and so may you, if you care for attaching
yourself to my fortunes, or misfortunes rather. That
contract, moreover, was made when my father was regent
of Scotland, and the king was a prisoner of war in Eng-
land—and Mademoiselle of France considers me but
as an outlaw now." Then after humming a lively French
air, Albany said, " 'tis said Murielle Douglas sings like a
throstle, when winging its way aloft on a beltane morning.
The throstle !" he added, letting his chin drop on his
breast with an air of tipsy sadness, "Ah ! that makes
me think of poor old Scotland, which, despite these des-
perate plots, I may never see again, and my heart is wrung
within me, when I think of the bonnie birken woods that
shed their autumn leaves upon my mother's grave."
After a pause Albany suddenly raised his head, and Gray
was moved to perceive that his fine dark eyes were full of
tears ; but he again filled and drained his cup of wine,
and it had the effect of completely intoxicating him.
" It has been arranged that your grace was to meet the
earl on his travel ?" asked Gray.
" Yes ; and he sent our good friend Achanna, with a
message inviting me to join him and my intended little
duchess at Bommel," replied Albany, laughing ; " and so
t have been travelling so fast, that my horses must have
discovered an impatient lover was in the saddle ; but
what the devil dost think was master Achanna's first
information for me?"
" I cannot guess," said Gray, not much interested in
the matter.
" That she has a lover already."
"A lover !" exclaimed Gray, in a very different tone.
"Aye, a lover here in Flanders," hiccuped Albany
P
210
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
while Gray sat breathless, and toyed with his dagger in
the shade.
" His name ?" said he.
"Sir Patrick Gray, captain<of my dear cousin's royal
guard. Laus Deo ! if I discover him, he is extremely
likely to rot in Flemish earth, while his papers may be of
service to us."
"How so?"
" Because he is on a mission from the earl's three
enemies—-ray cousin, his regent Livingstone, and the
chancellor Crichton—aid me to discover—to kill him,
and in Lennox, I will more than double your lands of
Luaig."
" And object of this mission—"
"Ah! that is just what we want to know, though
many say, 'tis but to Arnold d'Egmont of Gueldres, anent
a royal marriage. But I'll brook no lovers, no rivals, near
my throne—Laus Deo, no ! and I would give all I have—
not much certainly—to be as near this Sir Patrick Gray
as I am to you at this moment. But a friend of mine is
on his track already, I believe—one whom he cannot hope
to escape."
"A friend ?" said Gray.
" An unfortunate and valiant Count of Flanders."
"Alio?"
" Ludwig of Endhoven, a captain of Brabanciones ; by
St. Christopher our lover is not likely to escape Kim—
eh, Achanna ! but now let us to bed—to bed; for we
must be in our saddles by cockcrow to-morrow. Achanna,
your arm," said the poor young duke, staggering up ;
" Lua-Luaig—fare, sir—fare you well."
"Good night to your grace, and God be wi' you!"
said Gray, opening and closing the door as they separated.
BOLD SCHEMES.
211
After the duke and Achanna were gone, he sat long
and late, full of anxious and bitter thoughts that came
thick and fast upon him. He felt agony at the idea of
Murielle being about to be sacrifbaeti to the wild, ambi-
tious, and revengeful schemes of the earl of Douglas and
the duke of Albany 3 and he actually trembled lest her
heart might have changed or her fancy have been dazzled,
for he now remembered with pain the banter of his com-
rade and kinsman, MacLellan. He pitied and despised
the outlawed duke, yet he trembled for the trouble, which
he, with the ea^l, when combined, might give the young
king James, their master. He was filled with wrath at
the resolution, so fully expressed, to destroy himself, and
starting to his feet, he was about to get his sword from
the tapster, and summon Achanna forth into the moon-
light, which shone brightly, to upbraid him with his
villany, and then kill him on the spot 3 and in doing so, he
would not have committed a crime, but have acted simply
in the spirit of the age. However, cooler reflection
showed that he might serve Murielle, the king, and him-
self better, by preserving his incognito. So master
Achanna, that utilitarian Scot, who would have sold his
own father and his mother to boot, without compunction,
slept that night without a yard of cold iron in his body.
Yet, as it was impossible for Gray to travel with Duke
Robert and this scurvy companion to Bommel, he re-
solved to set forward alone. Thus, after a restless night,
he was up and mounted an hour before sunrise, and while
the frowsy haze hung thick and yellow over the pale-
green willow-copse of the Maese, veiling all Grave
and the quaint old castle of Otho, lord of Cuick and
Haverale, he was far on his journey to Bommel.
212
the captain of the guard.
CHAPTER XXXI.
bommel.
What mad jest is this, my masters ?
I know not where the damsel lives, not I
But see to it, that ye molest her not!—Old Plat.
After passing Alphen, Sir Patrick crossed an old stone
bridge, and found himself in the Bommelerwaard, a fer-
tile island, formed by the Waal and the Maese; and
about noon, he reached the object of his destination, the
quaint and ancient town of Zalt-Bommel, which stands
upon the left bank of the former river.
The ducal banner of Arnold d'Egmont was waving on
the castle built by Otho III. of Nassau, count of Gueldres,
who walled the city in 1299, and therein dwelt Jacques
de Lalain, the governor, then named the Dyck Graf, who
kept the town in awe with his cannon, but more by his
sluices, by opening which, he could lay the whole district
under water, and drown every citizen in five minutes.
While riding forward, Gray had revolved in his mind,
a hundred plans for making himself known to Murielle,
but none seemed practicable; and then, with no other con-
viction, than the double necessity for being wary, and pro-
curing a disguise, with a heart that beat lightly though
anxiously, he passed through the wide and busy streets
of Bommel, along the quays of its now choked-up harbour,
and found quarters at an hostelry, that stood near the
gardens of the ancient college of Canons, which was
founded in 1303, by Reinold the warlike count of
Gueldres.
Here he sent for the keeper of a frippery, as a clothing
BOMMEL.
213
establishment was then named, and obtained the dress of
a Muscovite merchant, a long gown of brown cloth trim-
nied with red braid and sables, a cap of black wolf's skin,
and a short crooked sword, which he slung in front by a
brass chain, in the oriental fashion. He laid aside all his
military trappings, save his chain shirt, which the disguise
he had adopted completely concealed, and after dinner
he sallied forth into the city in quest of adventure and of
Murielle.
It was fortunate that he had obtained so complete a
disguise and so readily, for at the corner of a street he was
overtaken by three reckless horsemen, who passed at a hard
gallop, and so closely, that he was nearly ridden down.
They were the very persons he wished to avoid—the
duke of Albany, count Ludwig of Endhoven, and James
Achanna. He endeavoured to follow, and see whither
they went; but they rode rapidly, and were soon out of
sight.
The masses of the population, their bustle, and the
business they seemed to transact, with the wealth and
luxury he saw on every hand, excited the astonishment
of Gray, who had come from a land that was simply war-
like and pastoral; for in that age Elanders was the
central point of European commerce—the market of all
the products of the south, the north, and the Levant.
"As in the course of human affairs," says Schiller,
" here a licentious luxury followed prosperity. The
seductive example of Philip the Good could not but
accelerate its approach. The court of the Burgundian
dukes was the most voluptuous and magnificent in
Europe, Italy itself not accepted. The costly dress of
the higher classes, which afterwards served as patterns
to the Spaniards, and eventually with the Burgundian cus-
214
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
toms, passed over to the court of Austria, soon descended
to the lower orders, and the humblest citizen nursed his
person in velvet and silk. The pomp and vanity of dress
were carried by both sexes to extravagance. The luxury
of the table had never reached so great a height among
any other people. The immoral assemblage of both sexes
at bathing-places, and others of reunion for pleasure and
enjoyment, had banished all shame."
This state of society was new and bewildering to the
plain soldier, who had come from the hardy and frugal
land of the " rough-footed Scots," as he strolled along the
thoroughfares of Bommel, disguised as a merchant from
Muscovy, without a word of the Muscovite language, and
as ignorant of whether he should pretend to import
tallow, tar, hogsbristles, iron and flax, or the preserved
fruits and luscious wines of the sunny Levant. Thus
fearing that his disguise might lead him into a scrape or
predicament, he avoided the harbour and mercantile por-
tions of the city, and sought those in which he was most
likely to meet some of the earl's train, or discover his
locality.
After two days of hopeless inquiry, as the most prudent
people are at times the most rash, he conceived the idea
of relinquishing his disguise, of resuming his former attire,
and applying to the Dyck Graf, who was a Gueldrian
noble, and by birth a Burgundian of high rank, when
luckily chance threw in his way the most fortunate
person he could have met.
He had visited all the churches in time of mass and
vespers, hoping to see the earl, or some of his numerous
retinue, and on the third day, just as he was leaving,
with a heavy heart, the gorgeously-carved porch of
St. Genevieve, he heard a familial; voice say—
B031MEL.
215
" Yes, yes, it is all very bad and wicked of tlie Bur-
gundians no doubt; but are not all the world so ? "When,
through my humble efforts and the agency of our Holy
Father, the great master of evil, is purified and restored
to the place he fell from, such things shall be no more.
Veritas mea et misericordia mea cum ipso; et in nomine
meo exaltabitur cornuejus ! "
." Oh, by good St." Genevieve, this can be no other than
my worthy friend and kinsman, the abbot of Tongland !"
said. Gray, joyously, a5 he pressed through a crowd of
bubous-shaped Flemings, towards where the old abbot,
who wore a travelling cassock and calotte cap, with long
flaps, stood near a pillar conversing with one whom he
knew to be the chaunter of the abbey, an official who
conducted the choir and had charge of the library, to
increase the MS. stores of which, he had accompanied the
earl to the Continent.
" Oh that I were now at Rome, instead of loitering here
in Flanders," resumed the abbot; " how many souls might
yet be saved!"
"The devil hath been long at his work, father abbot,,
since that tempting day in the Garden of Eden," said
Gray, laughing, as he took the abbot's hand in his.
" Good morrow, sir," said the churchman, coldly, as he
scrutinized the strange costume and scarred face of the
speaker.
" You do not know me ?" exclaimed Sir Patrick.
" Nay, sir, not I."
" 'Tis well," said Gray, with a bitter smile, as he re-
membered his wound, " I seem a Muscovite, but the cowl
does not make the monk. I crave a word apart, lord
abbot—I have that to say, which you must bear
alone."
216
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
When they withdi'ew a pace or two back, Sir Patrick
lifted his fur cap, and displayed his features more fully.
"Heaven grant us its peace," exclaimed the abbot,
with astonishment; " 'tis my kinsman, Gray of Foulis !"
" Hush," said Gray, placing a hand upon his mouth.
" Bash boy, and bold as rash, what seek you here in
Flanders?" asked the abbot, with gloom, alarm, and
almost anger expressed in his face.
" I came on the king's service; but now I seek Murielle
Douglas—and Murielle I shall see-, father !"
" Beware, lest you find death instead."
"I know the penalty, if discovered," said Gray care-
lessly ; " but in this disguise, and with a face so altered, I
may escape, as I have already eluded, the penetrating
eyes of the villain Achanna."
" But the earl—he whose projects are so high—so deep
—so terrible !" urged the priest in a whispered voice of
agony.
" He will not dare to touch me here in a fortified
town—"
" What! You expect Earl James to be a saint in
Gueldreland, though he is a devil in Galloway ? What
saith Horace—that those who cross the seas change their
climate but not their mind."
" I know with what intention he has crossed the seas,
and for what object he will return."
" You do !" said the abbot, in a husky whisper.
" Aye, as well as you, father abbot, who are the keeper
of that pretty burden, his conscience. I have seen, yea,
and supped with, Eobert, duke of Albany."
" Hush !" said the abbot, glancing at his chaunter.
" Ah—'tis your turn to say hush now."
"You have seen him—this poor outlawed px-ince
BOMMEL.
217
"Yes, and spent an evening with him—an interesting,
if not a jovial one, certainly; and in his cups, he unfolded
some very pretty schemes, concerning which, I shall be
silent, until I tread again the streets of Edinburgh."
" Oh, be wary, kinsman—be wary! " said the abbot, in
a voice that betrayed increasing alarm.
" The duke modestly asked me to aid in a little plot
against my own life, and made me several fair offers to
lure me to his service against the king."
" Offers, of what ? "
" Lands and titles."
" He is liberal, as that Fell Spirit, who took our Lord
unto the mountain top, and offered Him cities and
empires, when he had not an inch of land to give—not
even the mud that adhered to his cloven hoof. Oh, that
I were now at Rome !"
" But Murielle is to be made the tool—the victim of
these desperate plotters—and you know it, father, you
know it!"
" Ah," said the abbot, with a groan, " there you sting
my inmost heart."
" Then how must mine be stung 1 but you will enable
me to meet—to console her ?"
" I—impossible ! "
" There is nothing impossible in it," continued Gray,
with earnestness ; " you must—you shall! Ah, I do not
threaten you—I implore. Think of all we have suffered
for each other; think of what we may yet be condemned
to suffer, by those, whom Evil Fortune seems to have
made the arbiters of our destiny."
" 'Tis very sad, and very true," replied the abbot, slow-
iy, " but I dare not."
" You are a priest, and may dare anything," exclaimed
218
TElE captain op the guard.
Gray, passionately "and here I swear, that if you do
not take me jfc.o*Murielle, or bring her to me—in short, if.
you do not enable us to meet, by all that we revere in
heaven and on earth, and by the bones of St. Genevieve, I
will cast myself in the earl's path, and brave him and his
followers to. the last; and you know what is sure to ensue
then."
■ " Your instant destruction."
" Promise me—promise," urged Gray, in whose eyes
the tears were starting as he pressed the hands of the
bid abbot.
The latter was kind and gentle hearted, and loved his
young kinsman too well to withstand his entreaties long ;
.he felt his resolution waver, and strangely enough
became a little irritated.
"By St. Bryde, of Douglas, I would we had never
met," he exclaimed ; "although Sir Patrick, the sequel
might have been the worse for you."
" Where does she reside 1"
"With the earl and countess," replied the abbot,
briefly. t
" Of course," said Gray, impatiently, " but, where are
they ?"
" In a house belonging to the Dyck Graf, and adjoining '
the great church and the college of canons. I am to-
night to bring her—"
" Where, father—where 1"
" To this church of St. Genevieve."
" Oh, how happy was the chance that brought me
hither ! You will allow me to go with you ? "
" Impossible—never ; by my habit, my order—"
" Why—why ? "
" Your relations with her, and my office—"
THE CHURCH OP ST. GENEVIEVE.
219
" Your office will protect us ; it is ordained that you
should succour those in distress, and Murielle and I are
both in need of succour. Father Abbot—dear kind
friend, you agree."
"Be then silent and wary, and meet me at the porch
here, at the hour of seven this evening," replied the
abbot, suddenly giving way.
" God will reward you—I never can—adieu, adieu ! "
said Gray, in the fulness of his heart, and in a voice which
became husky with emotion, as he hastened into the
street, with a giddy head and a light heart, muttering :
" I shall see her—to-night I shall see her ! .but ah, by the
dial, it lacks five hours of the time ! "
CHAPTER XXXII.
THE CHURCH OF ST. GENEVIEVE.
When stars are in the qtiiet skies,
Then most I pine for thee;
Bend on me then thy tender eyes,
As stars look on the sea !
For thoughts, like waves that glide by night,
Are stillest when they shine;
Mine earthly love lies hush'd in light,
Beneath the heaven of thine.—Bulwer.
To Gray it appeared as if the day would never pass,
and he spent the hours of it in thinking over all he would
say to Murielle, and all she might probably reply. He
glanced at his mirror—would the scar on his face shock
her 1 Doubtless, but she would love him the more for it,
and then it would wear away in time. Then he consulted
the gnomons of the sun-dials at the street corners, and
220
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARI>
the clocks of the numerous churches, and to the eyes of
an impatient lover, the shadows of the former, and the
hands of the latter, seemed alike to stand still.
Yet inevitable Time, which may neither be anticipated
or withheld, passed slowly, and surely on. The shadows
of the quaint streets, of the carved and traceried steeples,
and of the battlemented castle, with its grey old walls
and muddy sluices, fell far to the eastward, along the
grassy meadows of the Bommelerwaard ; the storks were
already in their nests on the steep old gables, and long
before the appointed hour, Gray was at the porch of St.
Genevieve, where, with anxious eyes, he scanned the
passengers, and the thoroughfares in every direction.
At'last seven tolled from the spire, and every stroke
reverberated in his heart. They had not yet come, and
just as a sigh of impatience escaped him, a hand was
laid upon his shoulder ; he turned, and beheld the abbot
of Tongland, and standing behind him, on the upper step
of the porch, a pace or two within the church, was a lady,
wearing a Blemish hood and veil. Gray's heart rose to
his lips, as he sprang towards her, and pressed in his the
hands of Murielle.
"Beware, Sir Patrick," said the abbot, "we cannot
permit such transports here, and in view of the passers,
too! Retire into the north aisle, while I betake me to
the south, for I have still some leaves of my daily office to
read ; and when that is over, I shall rejoin you. Be
secret—be wary ! "
With this advice, the politic old Churchman left Gray
and Murielle to themselves, being perfectly well aware
that his presence, could in no way enhance the joy of this
sudden interview.
The quiet tenderness of Murielle moderated the ardor
THE CHURCH OF ST. GENEVIEVE.
221
of Gray ; both trembled with the depth of their emotions,
and the girl's eyes were full of tears of affection and
fear, for she felt as if Gray had been restored to her from
the tomb, and sometime passed before she could speak
with coherence.
" Ah, that I should miss your presence here for a mo-
ment," said Gray, " but I was watching the passers in
the streets."
" While I watched you from the church ! "
" And how did you enter it—I have been an hour at
the porch."
" We came by the postern, which adjoins the great
garden of the Dyck Grafs mansion."
" Where you reside ? "
" Yes."
" And the earl, too ? "
" Yes—but he is hunting with the Dyck Graf. Oh,
these wounds on your face," said Murielle, stroking his
cheek with her pretty hands, and kissing it; " oh, mother
of God, what must you have suffered 1"
" More than tongue can say, Murielle, and more in
mind than in body; but these scars are the relict of that
dreadful day, when Earl James so mercilessly struck me
down, as I besought mercy or quarter—not for my own
sake, but for yours."
" And when I thought to have died—great is my won-
der that I did not, for strenuously the earl, the countess,
and all in Thrave strove to convince me of your death."
" But you received my letter, by Sir Thomas—my good
and brave MacLellan 1"
"Yes—and it restored me to hope, to life as it were,
by the assurance that you lived—you, whom all about
me wished should die."
222
TIIE CAPTAIN OP THE GUARD.
Gray drew her close to his heart, and a soft sweet
smile overspread the childlike face, while he pressed to
his again and again the little rosebud mouth. At that
moment he heard something like a cough or snort; Gray
looked round, but saw only the shadows of the pillars that
lay in long lines across the tessalated floor of the church.
" I thought, Murielle, I should have gone mad with per-
plexity when I saw you at Antwerp," said Gray.
" At Antwerp—you saw me there ?" replied Murielle,
a little beam of gratified vanity lighting up her eyes.
" In the procession of the assumption ; but the strange
part you bore—how came that about ?'
"Through the desire of the earl and the bishop of
Mechlin (or as some name him, Malines), whom he knew
in Scotland as secretary to the Legate AEneas Sylvius
Piccolomini; but, believe me, I had no desire to appear
as I did."
" And how long do you remain in Bommel ?"
" A week."
" Thank heaven ! then we shall meet often. Have—
have you yet seen the outlawed duke of Albany ?"
asked Gray; hesitating with the question, while burning
with impatience for the answer.
" No," said Murielle, blushing in spite of herself ; " I
have declined."
Gray pressed her to his breast.
" You know then, dearest, of what the earl is capable,"
said he; "of forcing you to become the bride of another,
who will further his designs and strengthen his power at
home and abroad."
" Yes—yes," replied Murielle, weeping ; " I knew it—
already, has he broadly hiRted as much."
" A lready !"
TI1E CIIURCH OP ST. GENEVIEVE.
223
" And commanded me to obey ; all, pardon me for
making this admission ! " said she imploringly.
" Pardon you 1" reiterated Gray.
" Yes ; but the earl rarely condescends to hint."
" Oh my beloved heart! "
" I meant not to add to your griefs, dearest, by naming
a rival whose rank renders him so formidable,—but—,
but—" tears choked her utterance,
"And this rival is the duke of Albany—a French
minion—an outlaw ; the son of a traitor who plotted for
the lawless detention of James I., in England; a roue
and swashbuckler, who consorts with the robber, Ludwig
of Endhoven !"
" 'Tis "indeed he, to whom they would sacrifice me,"
said Murielle, clasping her poor little tremulous hands,
and weeping bitterly. Gray remained silent for some
moments, while love, pity, and alarm wrung his heart by
turns.
" I know it—I know it," said he gloomily, " for
Albany's own lips informed me."
"You see, dear Gray, to what lengths Douglas and my
sister will go in their thirst for vengeance. The young
king dethroned or slain ; his banished cousin crowned
by English aid as Robert IV., the house of Douglas
would become more powerful than ever, and thus attain
in the land a strength which none could crush, and
before which Livingstone and Crichton assuredly must
fall."
The vista these projects opened up, when thus plainly
stated, startled even the gallant heart of Gray !
But Albany dare not," said he huskily, while grasping
his dagger; "this should end his treason long ere it
reached the mature length his father's did."
224
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
"Douglas and Albany will dare anything," sobbed
Murielle; " alas, poor me ! I am, my sister says, "but
a child, and a very weak one in their iron hands."
" Then be a woman—let us escape and seek safety by
flight together. We are but thirty miles from the sea,
where we can soon find a ship for Scotland, and ere the
earl's return we may be ready to defy him,"
" Oh to what would you tempt me 1"
" To save yourself and me. Once wedded, once again
in Scotland, under the protection of the king, a boy
though he be, we might defy your kinsman and all his
followers.
" Oh no—no !" said Murielle, shaking her head mourn-
fully.
" To Gueldres then. Duke Arnold will succour and
protect us," urged Gray vehemently.
" Worse still ! "
" Oh Murielle, in pity to yourself and .me "
" Nay, nay, this must not be," said the abbot of Tong-
land angrily, as he came suddenly forward ; " Sir Patrick
Gray, this is a breach of faith with me. In friendship to
her, and you my kinsman—for I dearly love you both—
I permitted this meeting ; but have no intention that it
shall take a turn so startling—so dangerous for the
honour of Lady Murielle, and for the lives of us all
perhaps ! Come—come with me lady, we must return
at once."
" But we shall meet again,—good Father Abbot, say
we shall meet again 1" urged Gray.
" Once, I promise you, once ere we leave Bommel, on
the third evening from this, at the same hour," said the
abbot, hurrying Murielle away, for at that moment several
Flemish ecclesiastics entered the church.
THE CHUKCH OF ST. GENEVIEVE.
As Gray wished to avoid every one, he withdrew; but»
resolved that, come what might of it, in his next inter-
view with Murielle, to save her from- the perils that wero
impending. She still loved him truly, and there was
every consolation in the knowledge that she did so ; yet
her love would not save her from Albany when Douglas
chose to play the tyrant.
But the abbot's protege, the serpent, was abroad, and
there were many mischiefs to be plotted and many to be
worked ere Murielle could be saved from her persecutors.
As she and the abbot passed through the postern door
which opened from one of the aisles into the garden of
the Dyck Graf—a door over which there may be seen to
this day, a strange sculpture of a mitred cat preaching to
twelve little mice—a man who had evidently been listen-
ing shrunk back into the shade. This person was the
somewhat ubiquitous James Achanna, who, inspired
alike by impatience and malevolence, repaired imme-
diately to his lord and chief the earl.
Q
226
the captain of the guard.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
house of the dyck graf.
With every exertion, the best of men can do but a moderate
amount of good ; but it seems in the power of the most contemp-
tible individual to do indescribable mischief.—Washington Irving.
"While the lonely Sir Patrick Gray, full of sombre and
exciting thoughts, retired to his. hostelry to consider and
to plan the deliverance of Murielle from her own family,
the house of Messire Jacques de Lalain, the Dyck Graf
or hereditary governor of Bommel, which had been
assigned as a temporary residence to the powerful
Scottish noble and his retinue, became brilliantly lighted
up.
In the principal chamber were grouped together many
of the personages whom we last saw together, at the
abbot's house in Edinburgh, on that eventful evening of
November, 1440. It was noble in aspect, loftily ceiled,
and floridly decorated in the Flemish fashion of that age
of profusion, the walls and roof being covered with quaint
devices and heraldic blazons, by Jan Yan Eyck, a native
of Maeseyk, who, in 1410, attained great perfection in
the mixing of oil colours. Within a fireplace, lined with
Dutch tiles, blazed a pile of logs across the massive bar
of the and-irons. On an oaken buffet stood a gigan-
tic lion, formed entirely of Delft ware, the crest of
Gueldres, as it sprang from a ducal crown. From the
ceiling hung a gilded chandelier, a veritable pyramid of
candles, which shed a flood of light upon the guests
below.
And striking groups they formed, the ladies having
HOUSE OF THE DYCK GRAF.
227
long veils of the richest white lace, falling from the sum-
mits of their lofty horned head-dresses ; while their other
garments, cote-hardies and skirts, were of the finest silk,
taffeta, and gauze, covered with pearls, jewels, and
embroidery; the hues and fashion of the attire of all
these - noble demoiselles making them resemble the
queens of clubs and spades, just as we may see them
on a pack of cards.
The apparel of the gentlemen was much of the same
material—gay in colour, and gorgeous as embroidery and
jewels could make it, -with here and there a richly
engraved cuirass of Milan plate, a gorget of burnished
steel, or a diamond studded dagger-hilt, to impart a mili-
tary character to the wearer.
An old cavalier, with a high bald forehead, a beard so
long that Ferdinand of Toledo might have envied it, and
who wore the mantle and jewel of the Golden Fleece of
Burgundy, was conversing in French with the earl of
Douglas. He was Jacques de Lalain, a noble Burgun-
dian knight, hereditary Burg Graf of the town and
castle of Bommel. While seeming to converse with the
earl, who was speaking of King Charles VII. and Duke
Philip the Good, and what might result from a war
between France and Burgundy, with the adverse parts
which Scotland and England were certain to take therein,
he was gazing with pleasure on a group of Scottish girls,
who by the fine carriage of their heads, their general
bearing, and more than all by the whiteness of their hands,
evinced that they inherited the best blood and highest
breeding in the land.
They were, in fact, the Countess Margaret and
Murielle, her sister; the countess of Ormond; dark-
eyed Maud Douglas of Pompherston; Mariota, of Giec-
228
THE CAPTAIN OP THE GUAftlx
Zoning ; tlie golden-haired Caillean Rua ; Lady Jean, ol
Cairnglas; and the three daughters of Sir Alan Lauder.
The gentlemen who conversed with them, and played at
chess with some, at tables (an old name for backgammon)
with others, were the knights and esquires of the earl's
retinue.
Amid these were two persons already introduced to
the reader—Robert, duke of Albany, and Ludwig, count
of Endhoven, whom as a simple Burgundian knight, he
had, with his usual recklessness, dared to introduce to
this high circle.
It was not without secret emotions of pleasure and
satisfaction, that the blase royal outlaw beheld the
girlish beauty of Murielle. Though in no mood for
marrying, and long since used to consider women only as
tools or playthings, to be cast aside when no longer
needed, he conceived that he might find such a wife, for a
time, the reverse of a tedium or an encumbrance ; and,
that on the simple condition of wedding her, he could
enter with ardour into those daring schemes which pro-
mised vengeance to Douglas and a throne to himself.
Gay, handsome, and richly dressed, he leaned upon the
high back of her chair, and insisted on conversing with
her, flattering himself that he was making considerable
progress, though the memory of Gray's sad loving eyes,
and of his lover's kiss, yet lingered in her mind ; but she
was too well bred to treat the duke as he deserved ; too
gentle and too timid to repel him ; and, moreover, too
proud to acknowledge the footing upon which he affected
to place himself with her—a position on which she was
daily rallied by the countess and her ladies of the
labourette, until her little heart waxed wroth.
There were times also, when Albany, piqued by a
HOUSE OF THE DYCK GRAF.
223
coldness and reserve tliat were new to him, actually
nursed himself into the conviction that he was despe-
rately in love with this little beauty—if love in a heart
so roue were a possibility.
Near them sat Count Ludwig, affecting to be entirely
occupied with a bloodhound, which the Dyck Graf had
presented to the countess. It was a spotless dog, of
" Black St. Hubert's breed," but white as snow, and was
named Souyllard, after that famous hound of the prince
of Lorraine, which is thus extolled in the " Noble Art of
Venerie
' ■ My name first came from holy Hubert's race ;
Souyllard my sire, a hound of singular grace."
The reckless Ludwig, as he gazed on the beauty of
Murielle, began to conceive some very daring schemes on
his own account, as his armed Brabanciones, to the
number of some hundreds, lurked in the Peel morass and
woods on the other side of the Waal. He allowed his
imagination to run riot, and while affecting to caress the
powerful hound on the one hand, and converse with the
abbot of Tongland on the other, he saw before him only
the sweet girl's gentle eyes, which drooped, and her little
coral mouth, which paled, whenever his bold glance fell
on her.
The abbot and she exchanged smiles from time to time.
He was full of commiseration and alarm for Sir Patrick
Gray, whose preceptor he had been, and he was thinking
of that peaceful and pleasant time in Tongland Abbeys
when he was wont to take him once daily to read the
works of St. Augustine, or a page of the Gospels in old
monkish Latin. Each of these stood under an iron
grating in the church, where a leaf of them was turned
230
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
daily for the behoof of the learned or the pious; but
Gray and MacLellan, like wayward boys, to get rid of
the task which bored them, stole the key of the grille,
and threw it into the Dee.
The poor old abbot had very little idea of the real
character of the personage with whom he was convers-
ing ; and the reader may imagine the astonishment with
which the robber count listened to him, and the undis-
guised merriment with which he treated his great pro-
ject regarding the restoration of the Man of Sin. In
short, Count Ludwig deemed our worthy abbot neither a
well-deserving divine nor eccentric pedant, but a veritable
madman, and so often muttering several times, " Der
Teufel hole dich! " or " Sangdieu! "and so forth, he ceased
to listen, and continued to gaze covertly at Murielle.
The recent interview with her lover gave a brilliance
to her beauty, and a radiance to her expression ; her
slight but finely rounded form, being clad in cloth of
silver under a robe of white gauze, seemed to stand forth
in brilliant relief from the dark tapestry of the room.
A silver caul confined her hair; her ornaments were all
Scottish pearls, and everything about her appeared pure,
girlish, and angelic—and so thought both the roue duke
and the ruffian count.
Her eyes wandered frequently to the latter, though he
terrified her, and she knew not why; but she pitied him
for having such a terrible scar on his face, and it made
her think of Patrick Gray. Little dreaming that his
sword had inflicted it, she timidly inquired of the duke
where that wound was received.
" In a battle with the Burgundians," replied the other
readily, " a desperate one, when he slew all their men-
at-arms."
HOUSE OP THE DYCK GRAF.
231
"But is not he of Burgundy?" said Murielle with
surprise.
" Ah, true; I meant to say with the French—but
they fight so many," added the unabashed duke.
After this Murielle relapsed into silence, for she lis-
tened to Albany rather than conversed with him.
Hitherto she had steadily refused to meet him; but she
was too little in stature and too gentle in spirit to be a
heroine either in romance or history ; and perceived now
the futility of resisting further to receive him, as it had
been arranged that the duke was to accompany the earl
to Home, to the end that during the journey he might
ingratiate himself with her, and that there the marriage
would be performed, after his betrothal to Mademoiselle
of France had been cancelled by the Vatican—a measure
which the French king, since Albany's change of for-
tune and position, most earnestly desired.
And now James Achanna entered, with a smile spread-
ing over his cat-like visage, when he saw how this goodly
company were grouped.
He wished to gain the ear of the earl, but that formid-
able personage was conversing with the Dyck Graf.
When approaching he passed close to Murielle, who,
while seeming to listen to Albany, was lost in reverie,
and was unconsciously drawing from her pretty finger a
pearl ring which Gray in happier times had given her.
At that moment it suddenly slipped from her hand, and
rolled among the rushes of the floor.
Quick as his wicked thought, Achanna let his handker-
chief drop in the same place, and adroitly picked them
up together.
" Good," he muttered, " this may prove useful."
We shall soon see what use he made of this ring.
232
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
Cautious in action, stealthy in step and eye, sharp in
question but vague in answer—his eyes and ears ever
open, and his tongue always prepared to speak in an age
when men were slower in word than deed,—James
Achanna was indeed a fitting tool for an unscrupulous
feudal lord. Taking the opportunity of the Dyck Graf
addressing a few words to the countesses of Douglas and
Ormond, he said to the earl in a whisper,—"Would it
please you, my lord, to play a game with me at tables ? "
Then perceiving that the earl glanced at him with
some disdain in his eye and hauteur in his manner, the
politic Achanna added in a low voice,—" I have that to
say which must be said instantly, and which none must
overhear."
" Oh, we are to play a double game!" replied the earl
with a sudden glance of intelligence; " bring hither the
tables, the men, and the dice."
Achanna and he withdrew into the recess of a window.
The tables were speedily opened, the men were marshalled,
and the game began ; but Achanna waited until his lord
should make the first move.
" Proceed," said the latter impatiently.
" I am, then, to make the first move ?"
" If it please you—begin."
They bent their heads near, as if interested in the
game, and proceeded to push their men about vaguely,
but vigorously.
" I told you, my lord, that I had met a certain Laird
of Luaig," commenced Achanna.
"Yes, yes, at Grave."
"Well, I had my suspicions that the pretended laird
of Luaig was no other than he we all wot of."
" Whom mean you—Gray 1"
HOUSE OF THE DYCK GRAF.
233
"Sir Patrick Gray of Poulis, captain of tlie king's
guard ; and now my suspicions are confirmed."
The earl started, and his eyes flashed with dusky fire,
but controlling his emotion he simply asked,—" How ?"
" I discovered him by watching the Lady Murielle.
Cogsbones ! I. knew that the cock bird would soon find
the hen."
" Sirrah," said the earl frowning, " you speak of a
sister of the countess of Douglas—quick to the point,
lest I hang you from that window by one of the curtain
ropes!"
" Your pardon, Lord Earl; my speech is ruder than
my thoughts," cringed the other.
" Quick!" continued the earl, almost grinding his
teeth.
In a few words Achanna rapidly related the interview,
which, by chance, he had overheard, in the church of
St. Genevieve, and the earl was filled by such a tempest
of anger that he became all but speechless; yet by a
great effort of self-control, an effort the more painful
that such exertion was quite unusual—he contented him-
self by glaring from under his black bushy eyebrows at
poor unconscious Murielle with an expression as if he
would have annihilated her.
" Think you the abbot took her there to meet him ?"
he asked in a hoarse whisper.
" Where ?"
" Thou ass ! to the church of St. Genevieve 1"
" Heaven forfend ! no; 'twas he who saved her from
Gray," whined the sycophant vassal.
"It is well," said the earl in a quiet voice, but with
fury still kindling in his eye and quivering on his lip;
" were it otherwise, by St. Bryde, I'd unfrock and scourge
234
THE CAPTAIN OP THE GUARD
him through these streets of Bommel with a horse halter,
a mitred abbot and my confessor though he be ! "
" Who, think you, my lord, brought to Lady Murielle
at Thrave, the tidings that Gray still lived ?"
" I would give this golden chain to know "
" I overheard "
" His name—his name 1"
" Sir Thomas MacLellan, of Bombie."
"Gray's kinsman, the lieutenant of the guard ?"
" Yes, my lord," said Achanna, sweeping into his
girdle pouch the gold chain which the earl quietly passed
to him; "and long ago I had further proof that it was he."
" But for the assurance she received, by letter, of
Gray's existence, she would now, I doubt not, have been
duchess of Albany, and might have spared us this
journey to Borne."
"You remember, my lord, that the letter was tied
to an arrow, which struck the turf at her feet as she
walked by the side of the Bee ?"
" Yes, I remember to have heard so."
" I found that arrow, and a week after, Malise Mac
Kim, the smith, found a quiver full lying among the
rushes. The two chevrons sable of MacLellan were
painted on it, and the letter which bore the arrow was
one of the same sheaf, the same shaft, notch, and
feather; for, but a week before, Sir Thomas had bought
them in the Friars Wynd, at Dumfries, as he passed
south from Edinburgh."
" So, so !" said the earl, grinding his teeth ; " if God
and St. Bryde of Douglas permit me once again to cross
the bridge of Dumfries I shall have a vengeance on Mac
Lellan, so sure and deadly, that all Scotland shall ring
with it from sea to sea."
HOUSE OF THE DYCK GRAF.
235
And terribly the earl kept his vow.
" But where," he added, " is our lover at present ?"
" That I have yet to discover."
" The Dyck Graf," began the earl, starting up ; but
Achanna caught his sleeve, saying, " Nay, nay, my lord,
he will be certain to protect him. We cannot make a
raid in Flanders as we might in Nithsdale."
" True, we must be secret. Oh, that I had them both,
this Gray and MacLellan within ten Scottish miles of
our gallows knob at Thrave, I would soon mar the inter-
ference of the one and the wooing of the other. I
would summon all the Corbies in Deeside to his
spousals."
" Leave the sequel to me, lord earl," said Achanna, in
a low impressive whisper, " and Sir Patrick shall be
punished even to your heart's content."
"Assure me but of that, Achanna, and thou shalt
pocket a thousand silver crowns," said Douglas, pressing
the hand of his trusty vagabond.
With his natural ferocity of disposition, and being
usually in the habit of giving full vent to every gust
of fury, the earl found great difficulty in preserving an
aspect of external composure during the remainder of the
evening ; but immediately on the Dyck Graf's departure
for the castle of Bommel, the company broke up, and
Douglas prepared to retire, with a scowl on his brow, and
bitterness in his heart.
" God—den to you, father abbot; art still labouring
hard to ruin the empire of the prince of darkness ? Oh,
if ever thou shouldst fall into his hand ! " said he with
a mocking laugh, as he passed the worthy churchman,
who started at the sound, for Douglas seldom laughed,
and never in merriment.
236
TIIE CAPTAIN OF TIIE GUARD.
Achanna and Count Ludwig, wlio had been extremely
ill at ease in the vicinity of the Dyek Graf, now with-
drew together to plot mischief and to discover Gray.
" James Achanna," said Albany, as they were bowing
themselves out, "remember that I am to see you to-
morrow."
" At Carl Langfanger's auberge, The Forester."
" Yes, at noon."
" I am at the disposal of your highness," said Achanna,
using the title by which kings were then addressed in
Scotland and England.
Albany started, and the colour mounted to his usually
pale temples as he said, " Sir, I desire that you will not
address me thus."
" Why !" asked the earl with surprise as he paused in
the doorway.
"Because I consider it premature, and as such un-
lucky."
" Your grace, perhaps, is right," replied the earl,
gloomily, and somewhat contemptuously; " however,
'.ime will show."
noon—the plot.
237
CHAPTER XXXIV.
noon—the plot.
'Twas thus these cozening villains laid their scheme
Against his life, his youth, and comeliness :
Woe worth the end!—Old Plat.
Theee miles from the southern gate of Bommel, on
the road which led to Ameldroyen, there stood a solitary
auberge, or wayside tavern. It was named The Forester,
from the circumstance that on a sign-board it had a
hideous representation of a hunter sounding a horn, and
this passed for a likeness of Liderick du Bucq, the first
forester of Flanders.
The sign-board, moreover, informed the passers, in toler-
ably-spelt Flemish, that there was entertainment for
man and horse, with good German beer within; while a
green bush, which hung over the door in the more
ancient fashion, announced that there also could be had
the good wines of Alicant and Burgundy, with perhaps
the stroDg waters of Anjou and Languedoc, i. e., brandy.
The country in its vicinity was lonely, and thinly
populated. Save a wind-mill or two, and a gibbet on an
eminence, with a man hanging thereon between the
spectator and the sky, there was little to be seen but
the dense forest, which then spread for miles along the
banks of the river "Waal, and away towards Bois-le-duc
and Bavenstien.
This auberge, a rickety old house, the roof and walls
of which some masses of ivy and woodbine alone seemed
to hold together, was kept by Carl Langfanger, an old
Brabancione, or disbanded soldier; and it was, in fact,
238
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
one of the many secret rendezvous of Count Ludwig's
military outlaws.
On the day after the night just described, three horsemen
arrived at the auberge about noon, and within ten
minutes of each other. They placed their horses in a
shed behind the edifice, where a Brabancione, named
Gustaf Vlierbeke, a very " ragged robin" indeed, acted
as groom. They then met in an upper room, on the
bare and dirty table of which wine, unasked for and
unordered, was placed ; and, we may mention, that their
swords and daggers were not required by the slipshod
tapster, though such was the custom in those days in all
well-ordered taverns throughout Christendom.
These three personages were the exiled duke of
Albany, the outlawed count of Endhoven, and that
" Scottish worthy," Master James Achanna.
Their greetings were more brief than courteous, and
after imbibing each a long horn of wine, they drew their
chairs close to the table, as if to confer confidentially.
"More wine now, that we may not be interrupted
hereafter," said Albany, as a preliminary.
" Have we not had enough 1" asked Achanna, warily.
" Bah ! I am not a hermit, and have no need of
endeavouring to resemble old Anthony of Padua."
" Der teufel! our fair ones would not esteem you the
more for seeking to do so," said Ludwig.
The duke smiled complacently, caressed his well-
pointed moustache, and played with the tassels of his
velvet cloak.
Duke," said Ludwig, "you have sworn to love this
lady?"
" Love her ?" reiterated Albany, ponderingly.
"Yes ; whether she will or not."
NOON THE PLOT.
233
" Whom do you mean ?"
" Teufel! who but Murielle Douglas ! " said Ludwig,
with surprise.
" Oh, of course, I swore it," said Albany, suddenly
seeming to remember.
"Ah, there are moments in life when a man swears
anything to a woman so pretty," replied Ludwig, bury-
ing his red nose in his wine-pot.
To elude discovery, as he knew well that the soldiers
of the Dyck Graf and the halberdiers of the burgo-
master were somewhat solicitous about hi3 movements,
Count Ludwig had adopted a new disguise, lie was
dressed like an Italian fantasin, in a jacket and panta-
loons formed of long stripes of cloth of the Douglas
colours, and wore on his breast a scutcheon, charged
with those three stars which formed the paternal coat of
the earl, for one of whose followers he wished pro temp.
to pass. Dor this purpose he had smoothed over his
usual ruffianly exterior, cut off his long bravo loch of
hair, and, to enhance the respectability of his appear-
ance, wore a large rosary.
"We have met, duke," said he; "so to the point.
What have you to propose %"
. " Simply, that we must get rid of our troublesome
lover," replied Duke Robert, mixing two kinds of wine,
Burgundy and Alicant, and draining them at a draught.
" But first, we must discover his residence," suggested
Achanna.
" Carl Langfanger, our worthy tavernier, will soon
do that for us, said Ludwig.
" I am not unskilful in the use of my sword," said the
misguided duke of Albany; " I have already been victor
in four duels, three in Paris and one in Flanders, and
240 THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
might be victorious in a fifth. Why should I not
challenge and fight him 1 Count Ludwig, wouldst bear
my glove to this man ?"
" What, your highness—grace, I mean ! " stammered
Achanna, with one of his hateful smiles, " would you
commit all that is at issue to the chance of an unlucky
sword-thrust ? Nay, nay, I'll to the earl—this must
not be "
" So say I, sangdieu! Der teufel hole dich !" growled
Count Ludwig, whose oaths were alternately French and
Flemish; "I have a bone to pick with our traveller,
and, by Gott in himmel ! I will have satisfaction for the
slash he gave me on the face."
" Please yourselves," said Albany, with a bored air,
applying again to the wine, as if he was in haste to
intoxicate himself; " only rid the earl, Lady Murielle,
and me of him."
"We will arrange a most lover-like rendezvous, and
as sure as the devil hath horns, we shall catch our
amorous traveller," said Ludwig; "what say you, Messire
Achanna, and you, Monseigneur, Mein Herr, or how
der teufel am I to address you ? "
"A rendezvous," repeated Achanna, "where ?"
" Here."
" At this solitary auberge 1"
" Der teufels braden! what would the man have ?
The more solitary the better, and where can a fitter
place be found ? My trusty Brabanciones all within call,
and close by the wood with its wolves, ha ! ha !" and
Ludwig burst into a loud laugh, which expressed cruelty
and ferocity, but not merriment.
"As for the snare, it is easy when we have this to
bait our trap with," said Achanna, displaying the pear.
NOON THE PLOT.
241
ring, for the loss of which poor Murielle was then
breaking her little heart. He then related how he
became possessed of it, and with what intention.
" Good, good ! ter teufel ! it is admirable," shouted
Ludwig, striking the rickety table with his clenched
hand. "But after luring him here with this, what do
you propose to do ?"
Achanna glanced at the duke of Albany, who was
already dozing off to sleep, with his flushed forehead resting
on his hands, and said, " What do you propose—a combat
at smick and snee 1"
Ludwig ground his teeth with rage, at the recollection
of that affair at Endhoven, and said, with a strange smile,
" Listen : my Brabanciones are all very good fellows, but
are very irritable and very excitable ; and so, in a mo-
ment of their excitement and irritability, they may burn
out our prisoner's eyes with this iron, when red hot," said
the bantering ruffian, suddenly displaying a curious steel
instrument, fashioned apparently for the express purpose
of blinding, as it had the form of a spur, or the letter TJ
with a handle, the points for entering the eyes being
about two inches apart.
" He will die, and in torment!" exclaimed Albany,
with an expression of disgust on his handsome, but tipsy
face j " and if I engage in aught so rascally, may the
Devil twist my neck ! "
" I fear that is a task reserved for one of less rank,"
muttered the rash count of Endhoven, in a low voice.
" Say you, sir ! " thundered Albany, starting to the
full height of his'tall figure, and turning the buckle of his
belt hehincl him. As this was a challenge in those days,
Ludwig changed colour.
" I pray your grace," urged Achanna, starting forward,
u
242 THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
" Dost think I will permit this Flemish flouting-jack
to make a jest of me ? " said the duke furiously.
" Nay, mein Herr—Gott in himmel! I made no jest
of you," said Ludwig, unwilling by a brawl to frustrate
his own private objects, and future profit.
" Yery well—very well—carbonado him if you please,
but trouble me not on the subject," replied Albany, with
an air of ennui, as he drained his cup again.
" This process of yours will certainly kill our man," said
Achanna, in a low voice, as Albany sank his head on the
table, already overcome with wine.
" Not immediately," replied the count, with a diabolical
grimace. " My Brabanciones will tie him naked on an
old bare-backed horse—place a blazing brand under its
tail, and then set it loose, mad with pain and fear in the
forest among wolves. Der Teufel! a rare thought! but
not a word of all this to your soft-hearted duke of
Albany," whispered Ludwig ; "I do not think he would
admire my rough mode for disposing of a rival. He
would be for measuring swords with him quietly, and
getting run through the body. But I—der Teufels
braden ! I have this slash on the face to avenge, and with
the assistance of my friends, the wolves of the Waal, I
shall do it amply ! When Ludwig of Endhoven shows his
teeth the wolves laugh ! "
The singular cruelty of this proposal almost exceeded
the malevolence of Achanna, who had no other idea than
having Gray cut off by violent means ; but as the victim
stood in the path of his lord the earl, and a thousand
crowns were the price of his removal, Achanna considered
it a somewhat secondary matter how it was effected.
Carl Langfanger was despatched into the city of
Bovamel, with an accurate description of Gray, and of his
NOON—THE PLOT.
243
Muscovite disguise, and with instructions to inquire at all
the hostelries, to discover his present quarters. He was
also entrusted with the ring of Murielle, which he was to
deliver as his credential, and armed therewith, to request
Sir Patrick to meet her near the auberge, named The
Forrester of Flanders, on the Ameldroyen road ; and old
Carl, a practised plotter, and most careful rascal, de-
parted with confidence to discover their victim, and
arrange the rendezvous.
" Are we safe in trusting this man, Carl ?" asked
Achanna.
" He is sure as he is secret," replied Ludwig ; " I would
have gone on this mission myself, but I must beware of
that old devil the Dyck Graf j for Duke Arnold of
Gueldres has sworn to punish me in the same fashion
that Count Peter of Orscamp was punished by Baldwin
"With-the-Hatchet."
" How was that ? "
" The poor count was frequently put to his shifts, as I
am, and having fancied two bullocks, which belonged to
a widow at Yinendal, Baldwin ordered him to be cast in
his armour into a cauldron of boiling oil, in the market-
place of Bruges, where he perished miserably, before a
mighty multitude."
" And Duke Arnold has set a price upon you 1 "
" A thousand guilders. So you see, my friend, I am of
some value to the state."
So Achanna thought, and he began to conceive, that
these- guilders, if he could earn them, would form a very
seasonable addition to the thousand crowns from the earl.
Meanwhile, he had no suspicion that the subtle outlaw
with whom he plotted had conceived the idea of luring
Murielle to a rendezvous there or elsewhere, by means of
it 2
244
the captain of the guard.
the same ring, after her lover had been disposed of; and
thus, if the snare proved successful, he resolved to delude
alike the duke and the earl, and bear her off for his own
purposes to one of those wild forests with which that
part of Flanders then abounded; and with all the secret
paths, strengths, ruined castles, and lurking-places of which,
his predatory life had long rendered him familiar.
Drowsily and tipsily the unfortunate duke of Albany
slept, half reclined upon the table. "While he was in this
position, and during the absence of Achanna for more
wine, Ludwig took care of his purse, and some other
little matters of value, which he might otherwise have
lost; and so night closed in upon the solitary auberge,
while Langfanger, its proprietor, was pursuing his inqui-
lies amid the busy streets of Bommel.
CHAPTER XXXV.
night—the snare.
'Tis not so. Slowly, slowly dies the night,
And with it sinks my soul down from the point
Where late it stood a-tiptoe.—All the Year Round.
Longing for the next evening—the third appointed by
the abbot, as the time when he was to meet Murielle
again, Sir Patrick Gray sat at the latticed window of his
room, gazing listlessly down one of the long and pictur-
esque streets of Bommel, then darkening in the twilight
and haze, amid which the lamps were beginning to twinkle
in the shops and booths. Seven was tolled from the
college boll of the Canonry close by. He started at the
NIGHT—THE SNARE.
245
sound, and with a glow&rf pleasure, reflected, that at the
same hour to-morrow, he should see and be with her he
loved.
While this idea occupied him, the tapster announced a
visitor, and Carl Langfanger was introduced. On per-
ceiving a stranger, Sir Patrick experienced some uneasiness,
as he believed that his presence in Bommel was unknown
to all, save Murielle Douglas and the abbot of Tongland.
In addition to the profits of his wine and beer house,
and the little pickings which his secret relations with
Count Ludwig enabled him to have, our worthy Carl
Langfanger, was ostensibly a farrier and horse doctor, who,
by painting and patching up old nags, made them—though
the veriest Bosinantes—pass for chargers of spirit and
mettle; thus he was so well known at all the hostelries
in Bommel, that a short time enabled him to discover the
temporary residence of Sir Patrick Gray.
This cunning boor had attired himself in a dark suit
of respectable broad-cloth, with a clean white ruff round
his neck, and a wooden rosary of portentous size at his.
right wrist; thus he had all the air of a worthy citizen,
though his scrubby black hair was brushed straight down
to his small stealthy eyes, and cut off squarely above his
long and pendant ears.
" You wish to speak with me 1" said Gray, in French.
Langfanger, who had served in several countries, re-
plied readily in the same language : " I have a message
to monsieur ! "
" From whom ?"
"A fair demoiselle," replied Carl, in his most insinua-
ting voice, and a glitter in his cunning eyes.
" Indeed—then carry your message elsewhere—you
have come to the wrong quarter, my friend," replied Gray,
246
THE CAPTAIN OP THE GUARD.
curtly, as he detected something of the bravo in the air
of his visitor.
"But the demoiselle is in distress," urged Carl, with
some alarm lest his errand might fail.
" I am not the burgomaster, and knights errant are out
of fashion, my friend ; but who is she ? "
"I know not her name, messire," stammered Carl,
who had omitted to inform himself of this rather impor-
tant particular.
" By whom—and in what manner is she wronged ? "
" Mademoiselle said that this ring, which I have the
honour to present, would inform monsieur of everything,"
said Carl, stepping forward.
" This ring," reiterated Gray, becoming suddenly inter-
ested and perplexed, on recognizing the trinket he had
given to Murielle in other days, at the Three Thorns of
the Carlinwark, near Thrave ; and he kissed and placed it
on his finger, for it was a signal with which he could neither
delay nor trifle.
What might this summons portend ?
Carl Langfanger, who was smoothing down his obstinate
forelock, while estimating the value of the victim's habili-
ments, replied, that by the safety of his sinful soul, he
knew not.
Was she in immediate danger ?
He did not know that either ; but she seemed in great
tribulation.
" You have seen her, then % "
" Within an hour, messire."
" Where—and where does she now await me ?'
" Near an auberge—The Forester of Flanders—three
miles from Bommel, an auberge of the best character,
messire."
NIGHT—THE SNARE.
247
" In what direction, my good friend ? "
" Ah—I am messire's good friend now !—the way to
Ameldroyen."
" Among the forests ?" said Gray, with increasing
alarm.
" Exactly, messire."
It seemed most unaccountable that Murielle should
anticipate the evening fixed by the abbot, and appoint a
wayside auberge as a place of meeting ; but the presence
of her betrothal' ring could not be doubted; and she
was in danger, or tribulation, as this apparently suave
and honest fellow admitted. What lover could linger or
doubt 1
" You will come, messire 1" entreated Carl.
" Come—instantly ! my sword and cloak "
"Nay, messire, I have the honour to mention," said
the sleek Carl, " that mademoiselle does not expect you
until the cathedral bells have rung the hour of nine,
and when the lamps are hung in the spire."
To Gray this information was more perplexing than
ever.
" Near the auberge," continued Carl, is a stone cross,
one hundred paces to the right of the road, where a
votive lamp burns—there she will meet you."
" Grace guide me ! " exclaimed Gray, " what mystery
is this 1 Is not that district a perilous one after night-
faU 1"
"There are certainly some clerks of St. Nicholas in
the woods at times," said Carl, with pretended hesi-
tation. >i
" What manner of clerks are they
"Disbanded Brabanters, who are their own pay-
masters."
248
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
" Robbers, in fact," said Gray, sbarply.
" Ay, robbers, and all kinds of wild fellows."
" Come ! tbis is pleasant for one who will be alone."
" Messire shall not be alone," said Carl, for I shall be
there as a guide."
" Thanks and largesse to you, most worthy varlet,"
said Gray, gratefully, though feeling more and more be-
wildered. He then put some money into the hands of
Carl, who, glad that his mission was over, hurriedly with-
drew, and within an hour duly reported his progress to
the count of Endhoven, who still remained at the auberge,
though Albany and Achanna had returned to the house
of the Dyck Graf, to wait the event of the night.
Gray sat in a turmoil of thought after Carl had retired.
The idea of a snare never occurred to him. The
presence of Murielle's ring lulled every suspicion, if
he had one ; and he kissed it again and again, for it had
been on her finger since that night when first she ad-
mitted that he might love her, when the summer moon
was wading the fleecy clouds above the Galloway hills
that slept in her silver sunshine, which cast the towers of
Thrave in sombre shadow on the black waters of the Dee.
As it did not suit the purpose of master Carl Lang-
fanger to have any outrage committed in his auberge—
a place on which the officials of the Dyck Graf had more
than once cast eyes of suspicion—it had been arranged
that Gray should be waylaid at the solitary cross, and
there disarmed, mutilated in the horrible manner sug-
gested by the barbarous count of Endhoven, who is re-
corded to have treated more than one of his prisoners
thus, especially, a poor pilgrim from Antwerp and a mer-
chant of Bruges.
This votive -wayside cross had been erected by the
NIGHT—THE SNARE.
249
eldest soil of Rein aid, the warlike duke of Gueldres, as
a propitiation for his unnatural conduct, in making a
captive of his father, who died in 1325.
It stood in a wild and solitary place, among heath and
gorse, midway between the highroad which led to the
auberge, and the forest that spread along the banks of
the Waal. After the gates of Bommel were shut for the
night, the vicinity of this cross was a place avoided by all
belated people, in consequence of the lawless nature of
the district, and of those terrible wolves, whose lair was
also the forest.
As the night drew on, Count Ludwig, Carl Langfanger,
Gustaf Ylierbeke, and some ten or twelve other outlaws
all Brabanciones, and well, but variously armed, issued
from the auberge, and repaired to the vicinity of Duke
Reinald's Cross, where they concealed themselves in a
hollow, close to the path, among some thick willows and
alder trees.
" Der Teufel!" grumbled the count, " I hope our
lover won't keep us long waiting, for the night breeze that
comes from the Waal is cold enough already ; so what
will it be an hour hence !"
" For that reason I have brought with me, herr count,
a jar of Languedoc brandy," said Carl Langfanger.
"Thou art a priceless fellow!" exclaimed the count,
with unfeigned ardour, as he took a long draught from the
stone bottle, and then passed it round ; " and now, Carl,
light the brazier—has* got any charcoal ?"
" A little sack full; and we have plenty of dead branches
hereabout."
"Right ! Place it under the bank, where the glow
will be hidden by the willows. Set it a-light, I say;
'twill serve to keep us warm, and to heat our branding
250
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
iron at the same time. Who watches on the road-
way 1"
" Gustaf Vlierbeke," replied two or three at once.
" Bon ! he has the eyes of a mole."
The charcoal, with the addition of some dried branches,
was soon glowing in the iron brazier, and it shed an un-
certain glow on the patched and parti-colored garments,
the rusty weapons, the pieces of battered armour, the
squalid and dirty visages of the ruffians who crouched
together, waiting for the coming prey, with watchful ears
and stealthy eyes, that had became bloodshot, haggard,
and wild in expression, with years of cruelty, lust, de-
bauchery, and rapine; and which brightened only as Carl's
long jar of French brandy came round to each in turn.
" Herr Count, there are the lights now, in the cathedral
spire," exclaimed Carl, who descended from the top- of the
grassy bank, whither he had crawled to listen.
"Then the gates of Bommel are being closed; der
Teufels braden! where tarries our lover ? he should be
here by this time !" muttered Ludwig, thrusting the fatal
iron deeper in the charcoal, and playing nervously with
the haft of his dagger; "is the old mare from the tan-
yard ready V'
"All ready for her rider," replied Carl, with a cruel
grin; " Gustaf Vlierbeke," he added in a husky whisper,
" hear you aught on the roadway V'
" Nothing, but the wind and the tossing leaves."
Mutterings of impatience followed this reply.
" Gustaf has only one eye," said a Brabancione.
" The other was knocked out by the boll of a crossbow
at Briel."
" Then, why the devil make him scout said a third
lurker, in a growling tone.
NIGHT—THE SNARE.
251
" Because he has the eye and the quickness of a blood-
hound," said the count; "ay, of Souyllard himself. It
begins to seem that we shall have a great deal of trouble
with this teufel of a Schottlander! Carl could easily
have disposed of him at the hostelry, as I did yesterday
with the rich pilgrim who was on his way to Strasbourg,
and who died, unfortunately, just after sharing with me
the contents of his bottle and wallet."
"Died! how?"
" By the severing of the thyroid cartilage."
" What the henckers is that, herr count ?"
" The hump in the wind-pipe, where the apple stuck."
" In plain words "
" Exactly," said the count, passing a finger round his
throat, a piece of pantomime which excited the ferocious
laughter of his followers; yet they waited with great im-
patience, and the time seemed to pass the more slowly,
that they were without watches or other means of marking
it. Gustaf Ylierbeke was withdrawn from the post of
scout, and replaced by Carl Langfanger when the lights
in the cathedral spire were reduced to two.
" Two lights, der teufel!" exclaimed the count; " they
indicate the hour of ten: He must have been warned of
our snare, and—hark ! what is that ?"
" The bay of a wolf, herr count."
"Yes, the moon is rising now, and our charcoal is
smouldering fast."
Time passed on slowly; the slower that they waited
with fierce impatience, and the night became colder as
the stars increased in number and brilliance overhead.
Some of the Brabanciones sat idly gnawing their shaggy
moustachios ; others whiled away the lagging minutes by
putting an edge on their swords and daggers, with some
252
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
of the stones which lay near. It seemed weary work fot
them at best, for the stone jar was empty now.
At last only one light remained in the great spire of
Bommel, and it twinkled like a planet in the distance.
" Eleven !" exclaimed the count, starting to his feet,
and, amid muttered oaths of rage and disappointment,
they were rising to disperse, when Carl Langfanger
crawled back, with tidings that a horseman was coming
rapidly along the highway. Again the charcoal was
blown up by Gustaf Vlierbeke, who made a bellows of
his lungs ; again the spur-shaped iron was inserted deeper,
teeth were set, fierce eyes sparkled, and weapons were
grasped and drawn.
On came the solitary rider—on and on. His horse's
hoofs rang louder with every bound as he drew nearer,
and all held their breath when he suddenly reined up
abreast of the cross, in a little niche of which an oil
lamp was flickering in the gusty wind.
" Der teufel—'tis he at last!" said the count, as the
rider turned his horse to the right and cautiously ap-
proached the cross. Then springing from their ambush,
with loud yells of exultation and ferocity, the Braban-
ciones rushed upon him! His horse's bridle and his
stirrups were grasped on both sides ; and before a cry
could escape his lips, the victim was dragged from his
saddle, struck to the earth under a shower of blows, and
manacled by a strong cord.
" Light a torch, and drag him into the hollow," cried
Count Ludwig, whose order was roughly and promptly
obeyed.
duke reinald's cross.
253
CHAPTER XXXVI.
duke reinald's cross.
He wrapp'd his cloak upon his arm, he smote away their swords,
Striking hard and sturdy buffets on the mouths of those proud
lords;
Snapping blades and tearing mouths, like a lion at his meal,
Laughing at the stab of dagger, and the flashing of their steel.
All the Year Round.
Great was the impatience of the earl and of his satel-
lite, James Achanna, to learn the result of the snare they
had laid for Sir Patrick Gray. If successful in its cruelty,
the first felt assured that a formidable obstruction to his
plans would be removed for ever ; and the latter flattered
himself that he would be a richer man by a thousand
silver crowns of the Rhine. Then he had his plans to
mature for turning Count Ludwig into as much ready
money as the Dyck Graf would pay for him. Our
utilitarian felt that he was on the eve of making his
fortune !
That the ill-fated Sir Patrick Gray had left his hostelry
punctually, Achanna had already ascertained, and duly
reported to the earl.
" It is easier," says Goldsmith, " to conceive than to.
describe the complicated sensations which are felt from
the pain of a recent injury and the pleasure of approach-
ing vengeance," but in the present instance, it was thet
mere delight of cruel and wicked hearts in a lawless
revenge (without the sense of real injury) that fired the
hearts of the earl and Achanna.
They had not an atom of compunction!
Albany was aware, by the recent interview at the-
254
THE CAPTAIN OP THE GUARD.
auberge, that his more favoured rival was to be removed ;
how, he scarcely knew (he had been so tipsy), and how,
he little cared; but he pitied—for this exiled and out-
lawed prince was not quite destitute of generosity—
Murielle, as the poor girl, in joyous anticipation of the
morrow's meeting witb her lover, had assumed her cithern,
and all unconscious of the horrors impending, sang one or
two sweet old Galloway songs ; but they failed to soothe
either the savage earl, or his more unscrupulous follower,
who, from the recess of a window, surveyed her with
gloomy malignity in his cat-like eyes, which, as already
described, were situated singularly far apart in his head,
from the conical top of which his red hair hung in tufts.
When the hour of ten was tolled from the spire of the
cathedral (where time was regulated then by great hour-
glasses), the curiosity of Douglas and Achanna could
no longer be repressed.
"You have an order from the Dyck Graf to pass the
gates," whispered the earl.
" Yes ; at any hour."
" Then set forth; seek that fellow whom you name :
what is it they call him ?"
" Count Ludwig of Endhoven."
" A rare noble, by the Mass ! Seek him and bring me
sure tidings of what has transpired."
Within twenty minutes after this, Achanna had
mounted and left Bommel, after duly presenting to the
captain of the watch his pass, signed by Jacques de
Lalain. Taking the road to Ameldroyan, he rode slowly
—very slowly at first, listening to every sound; but all
seemed still by the wayside, and coldly and palely the
waning moon shone on the waters of the Waal, and
of the sluices and marshes which there intersected the
DUKE KEINALD'S CROSS.
2 55
level country. The windmills—unusual features to a
Scotsman's eye—stood motionless and silent, like giants
with outstretched arms.
Now a sound came upon the wind at times, and he
reined up his horse to listen. Anon he rode forward
again, for that sound made him shudder. It was the
wild wierd cry of a wolf in the forest, baying to the
moon.
Teeling alternately for his sword and his crucifix (just
as a Spaniard of the present day would do), he neared
the appointed spot, and his keen eyes detected a lurking
figure which withdrew at his approach. This was Carl
Langfanger the scout.
A cruel joy filled Achanna's heart with a strange glow,
and his large coarse ears quivered like those of a sleuth-
bratch in his eagerness lo catch a passing sound.
Was all over—were the thousand crowns his ? Had
Gray been blinded by the burning iron, manacled, stripped
and bound to the goaded horse which was to bear him to
the wild forest, and to the wolves' jaws ? Did the baying
he had heard in the distance announce that the chase was
over, and their repast begun—that horse and rider had
been torn limb from limb ?
He asked these questions of himself as he rode on.
Soon he saw the votive lamp that flickered before Duke
Heinald's cross. Then he detected a red gleam that
wavered under some willow trees. It came from the
brazier in which Ludwig had heated the blinding iron.
He spurred impatiently forward. There was a shout, and
amid cries of, " Der Schottlander, donner and blitzen, der
Schottlander !" he was struck from his horse and pinioned
in a moment, before he could utter a cry for mercy or for
•explanation.
256
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
The wretch had fallen into his own trap.
His clothes were roughly rent from his body, and if he
opened his mouth the point of a sword menaced his
throat. Covered with blood and bruises, and screaming
like a terrified woman for mercy, he was dragged into the
hollow where Count Ludwig was seated before the brazier,
with the brandy-jar by his side.
Amid shouts of ferocious laughter and imprecations his
head was grasped by several of the ruffians, while Carl
Langfanger drew forth the gleaming iron from the brazier.
Achanna uttered a last scream of terror and agony on
beholding it, and then his voice seemed to leave him.
The cold bead-drops burst upon his throbbing temples ;
his eyes started from their sockets as if to anticipate their
doom, and the pulses of his heart seemed to stand still—
he could only sigh and gasp.
He felt the hot glow upon his cheek—already it seemed
to burn into his brain, and he gave himself over for lost,
when there was a sudden shout and a rush of horses'
hoofs ; he saw the flashing of swords above his head, and
heard the rasp of steel on steel as the blades emitted red
sparks. There was a sudden shock, and a conflict seemed
to close over him as he fell to the earth on his face fainting,
and some time elapsed before he became sufficiently con-
scious to understand that he was free, and rescued by the
valour of a single horseman, who was clad in a helmet and
chain shirt, and whose sword was dripping with the red
evidence of how skilfully he had used it in the recent
fray.
But what were the emotions of James Achanna when
by a sudden gleam from the expiring contents of the bra-
zier, as the night wind swept through the hollow, he recog-
nized in his preserver, Sir Patrick Gray of Foulis !
DUKE EEINALD'S CROSS.
257
Astonishment with craven fear prevailed ; but not the
slightest emotion of gratitude. He felt rather a glow
of rage and bitterness that Gray, by a mistake, or by
loitering so long, had been too late for his own de-
struction !
Sir Patrick, as Achanna learned, had left his hostelry
in sufficient time to be at the false rendezvous; but being
without an order from the Dyck Graf to pass the gates,
(a document with which he had not provided himself, lest
a knowledge of the application for it might lead to his
discovery by the Douglases) he had been refused egress
by the guards ; and after spending an hour in attempting
every gate of Bommel—an hour of impatience and fury—
during which he strove in vain to corrupt by gold the
trusty AYalloons who watched them, he swam his horse
at last through the Waal, and having thus to make a
great detour, arrived at a most critical time for the fate
of Achanna, who gazed at him, speechlessly and help-
lessly, afraid to utter a word lest Gray might recognise
his voice, and pass through his body the sword which had
just saved him.
Sir Patrick, however, did recognise him as he cut his
cords, but not immediately; though there was no mis-
taking his hideous visage and green cat-like eyes, or
the red hair and beard that mingled together.
"So it is thee, James Achanna," said he; " dog and
son of a dog, had I met you mounted and armed as I now
am I would have slain you without remorse or mercy.
As it is, go, and remember that you receive your miser-
able life at the hand of one who spares it rather from
profound disdain, than that you may have time for repent-
ance—a time that may never come to you !"
With these words Gray smote him on the cheek,
s
258
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
sheathed his sword, remounted his horse, and, bewildered
by the whole affair, rode rapidly off, leaving Achanna to
find his way back to Bommel as he best could.
Sir Patrick was filled with rage, but he knew not
against whom to direct it. He half suspected that
a snare had been laid for him, and then dismissed the
idea, believing that the circumstance of his being in
Bommel, or even in Flanders, was unknown to all save
the abbot and Murielle, the mission on which Crichton
had sent him being almost a secret one : for these reasons
he did not make himself known to Achanna by name.
It was not until dawn, when the gates were open to
admit the boors and peasantry to the markets, that the
rescuer and the rescued made their way, but by different
routes, into Bommel; and a scurvy figure the latter
made when he presented himself at the residence of the
Douglases, minus horse, arms, and clothing, with an ill-
devised tale of his having been assaulted by Brabanciones,
while the fierce jibes of the earl, and the narrow escape
from a dreadful death, inspired him with more hatred
than ever against Gray and Murielle, for he had learned
to combine them in one idea.
THE THIRD EVEN IRQ.
259
CHAPTER XXXVII.
the third evening.
Good fortune and the favour of the king
Smile upon this contract; whose ceremony
Shall seem expedient on the new-born brief,
And be performed to-night.
All's Well that Ends Well.
After what had occurred at Duke Reinald's cross, and
oeing bewildered by the whole affair of the ring—an
affair which seemed so inexplicable, Gray armed himself
with more than usual care, and covering his fine, flexible
chain shirt, gorget and sleeves of tempered Milan plate,
by the ample brown and red-braided Muscovite gown, he
repaired punctually at seven o'clock to the church of
St. Genevieve. He entered with an anxious heart, and
kept a hand on his sword, as he knew not by whom, or
in what fashion he might he greeted j but, to his joy
found Murielle and the abbot awaiting him in the
appointed place.
Murielle was smiling and happy; but the abbot was
sombre, gloomy, and abstracted.
A recent conversation which had passed between him
and the earl of Douglas had revealed more of the latter's
terrible political, or rather insurrectionary projects, than
the abbot conceived to he possible. The poor old man was
dismayed; his very soul shrank within him at the con-
templation of his lawful and anointed king dethroned, and
his native country plunged in civil strife, to gratify the
proud ambition and guilty vengeance of a turbulent and
predatory noble. A wholesome fear of that ugly archi-
tectural feature, the gallows knob of Thrave, might have
s 2
260
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
prevented him from daring to think of circumventing the
plans of the earl had he been in Galloway; for Douglas,
though slavish in superstition and in ritual observances,
was sternly severe to all who marred his purposes, or
crossed the path of his ambition, or even of his most
simple wish : thus he who hanged the good lord of Teregles
in his armour, might not hesitate to hang an abbot in his
cassock. But here in Flanders, far from local feudal
influences, the superior of Tongland felt himself more free
to act, and he had been all day revolving in his mind the
means of putting the lord chancellor and other ministers
of James II. in possession of facts which would enable
them to guard the interests of the throne and of the
people from confusion, from invasion, and an anarchy like
that which followed the demise of the good king Alex-
ander III., and in the person of Gray he had the means
of immediate communication.
Anxious to solve a mystery, Gray said hurriedly, " You
have lost a ring Murielle 1"
" My ring—ah, yes, and an omen of evil I deemed that
loss to be ; for it was the betrothal ring you gave me at
the Thorns of the Carlinwark. It was lost two nights
ago—or abstracted from me "
" The latter most likely—but permit me to restore it,"
said he, tenderly kissing her pretty hand ; " it nearly lured
me to my death, for now I verily believe that a deadly
snare was set for me."
" Oh, what is this you tell me ?" she asked with alarm.
" Sad, sad truth, my own love."
" A snare ? [ Oh, it is impossible, since none know that
you are here, but our lord the abbot and I."
" But others, Murielle, do know," replied Gray, and he
briefly related the affair of the preceding evening ; the
THE THIRD EVENING.
261
visit of Carl Langfanger with the ring and the message
as from herself; the delays which had happily occurred,
and how he had reached the Wayside Cross too late for
the purpose of his secret enemies, but strangely enough
in time to save Achanna from a mutilation and death,
which were no doubt intended for another. Murielle wa=>
stupefied.
" Achanna—say you this man was James Achanna 1"
sobbed Murielle, becoming very pale and trembling.
" Certainly 'twas he; oh, there is no mistaking that
hateful visage of his."
" Then you are indeed lost !" said she, clasping her
hands ; but the abbot who had hitherto remained silent
and gloomy, patted her head kindly, and said— " My own
good daughter, hearken to me; trust in Heaven and hope
—hope, the friend of happiness."
"But hope, Father Abbot, will desert us, unless ■ "
said Gray, hesitating, as he turned imploringly to Murielle.
" Unless what ?" said the abbot.
" Murielle becomes my bride—my wife ! "
" Sir Patrick Gray "
" Her ring is here ; a betrothal ring it is, and a wed-
ding-ring it shall be," continued Gray with increasing
vehemence, as his voice with his emotion became deeper.
" Good father abbot, my kinsman and my friend, you
who knew and loved my father and mother well, you
who were the guide and mentor of both, even as you are
of me, will not hear me now in vain ! The dangerous
schemes of this ambitious earl "
" Enough, enough," interrupted the abbot gloomily,
as he waved his hand ; " to my sorrow and fear I know
them all, and own they terrify me."
"Then, to save our young king from many deadly
282
THE CAPTAIN OP THE GUAR1).
perils, and our country from civil war—to save tliis miser-
able Duke Robert from the block on which, his father
perished—to save the house of Douglas from destruc-
tion, and, more than all, to save' herself from misery,
Murielle must wed me !"
Murielle opened her tremulous lips to speak, but
Gray added impetuously, — "To-day—to-night—now,
instantly !"
" Now ?" reiterated the abbot.
"Now, or it may be never !"
" Oh, what is this you say 1" said Murielle, shrinking
closer to the abbot.
"The solemn, the sad, the earnest, but the loving
truth, dear Murielle," urged Gray, his eyes and heart
filling as he spoke with passion and tenderness.
Much more followed, but they spoke rapidly and
briefly, for time was precious.
"You will end all this by wedding me, my beloved,"
said Gray in her ear, as he pressed her to his breast, and
stifled her reply by kisses. " Then at midnight we shall
leave Bommel together for the sea-coast, from thence to
Scotland and the king ! Say that you will become my
wife—here are the altar, the church, the priest, and his
missal—here even the ring. Oh, say that you will, for
with life I cannot separate from you again ! "
" My love for ycu," sobbed Murielle, " is stronger than
my destiny "
" Nay, 'tis destiny that makes you love me."
Her tears fell fast, but her silence gave consent.
The abbot felt all the force of his kinsman's arguments,
and the more so that they were added to his own previous
fears and convictions. He wisely conceived that the
marriage of Murielle to Gray would prove the most
THE THIRD EVENING.
26X
irremovable barrier to the proposed matrimonial alliance
between Douglas and the duke of Albany. He was,
aware that by the performance of such a ceremony, he
would open an impassable gulf between himself and his
lord and chief; but he felt that he owed a duty to the
king, James II., in saving him from a coalition so
formidable as a union between the adherents of the
outlawed prince and rebellious peer ; a duty to Murielle,
in saving her from becoming the hapless tool of a conspi-
racy, the victim of a roue husband and a ruinous plot;
and a duty to his kinsman and friend, whom he had
every desire to protect and serve.
Thus he suddenly consented, and summoning his
chanter, and a cure of the church, whom in his writings
he names " Father Gustaf Dennecker, of the order of
St. Benedict," he drew a missal from the embroidered
pouch which hung at his girdle, and before our poor
bewildered Murielle knew distinctly what \?as about to
ensue she found herself a bride—on her knees before the
altar, and the marriage service being read over her.
It proceeded rapidly. Murielle felt as one in a dream.
She saw the open missal, from the parchment leaves of
which some little golden crosses dangled; she saw the
abbot in his purple stole, and heard his distinct but sub-
dued Latinity, as. he addressed them over the silver altar
rail. She was aware of the presence of Gray, and her
little heart beat tumultuously with awe and love and
terror, while reassured from time to time by the gentle
pressure of his hand—that strong and manly hand which
had grown hard by the use of his sword-hilt. She heard
the ring blessed, and felt it placed upon her marriage
finger!
She heard the muttered responses of Father Gustaf
264 THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUAKD.
and of the old chanter of Tongland Abbey, who, in
his terror of the earl, was almost scared out of his senses-;
and then came the sonorous voice of the abbot, as he
waved his hand above her, and concluded with these
words :—" Deus Israel conjugat vos ; et ipse sit vobiscum,
qui misertus duobus unicis : et nunc Domine, fac aos
plenius benedicere te."
She arose lady of Foulis, and the wedded wife of Sir
Patrick Gray, from whom death only could separate her ;
but she reclined her head upon his breast, and sobbed
with excitement, with joy, and alarm.
After a pause the abbot closed his missal, and as he
descended from the altar his eye caught a pale grim face
behind the shadow of a column. It vanished, but as the
blood rushed back upon the heart of the startled abbot,
he thought the features of that face were those of James
Achanna, and he was right !
"You must now separate; the future depends upon
your secrecy and discretion, as a discovery will ruin all,
and we have not a moment to lose," said the abbot, who
felt more dismay in his heart than at that moment he
cared to communicate.
" What a time to separate !" exclaimed Gray almost
with anger.
" You separate but to meet again," said the abbot im-
peratively, but in a low voice, lest there might be other
eavesdroppers; " away to your hostelry, Sir Patrick, get
horses, and make every arrangement for immediate flight.
If you leave Bommel at midnight, by riding fast you may
both reach the coast of Altena long before daybreak, and
there find a ship for Scotland."
" Let us escape now; why delay a single hour ?"
" That may not be; your flight would be discovered,
'i'HE THIllD EVENING.
265
and the followers of the earl would be aided in a pursuit
by those of De Lalain the Dyck Graf. The time to
choose is when all are abed and asleep, or ought to be,
and I will provide the order to pass you through the gates
of the city. The doors of our residence are secured
every night by Sir Alan Lauder, who keeps the keys
with care, as if he were still in Thrave, and feared tho
thieves of Annandale. You know the window of
Murielle's sleeping apartment ?"
"It overlooks the garden above an arbour."
" Be within the arbour when this church bell strikes
twelve ; keep your horses in the street, and I myself, as
far as an old man may, will aid your flight together.
You will pass through the church by the postern, and
then God speed ye to the sea ! Till then, farewell, and
my blessing on ye ! Ah, well-a-day! all this toil, all
this trouble, all this peril had been saved us, if—if "
" What, my Lord 1"
" The master of evil and of mischief had been but for-
given and restored to his place —but the time shall come,"
said the abbot, remembering his pet crotchet, as they
hastily separated; " that blessed time shall come ! "
266
the captain of the guard.
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
a wedding night.
" Their swords smote blunt upon our steel,
And keen upon our buff;
The coldest blooded man of us
Had battering enough ;
'Twas butt to butt, and point to point,
And eager pike to pike ;
' Twas foin and parry, give and take,
As long as we could strike."
Gray seemed to tread on air—lie felt as one in a
dream—but a dream to be realized—as be hurried through
the streets of Bommel to his hostelry to pack his mail
(a portmanteau), to order his horse to <je in readiness,
and to procure one for Murielle ; while his emotions of
love for her, and gratitude to the abbot, left no room in,
his honest heart for exultation that he was about to out-
wit his enemies, and by bearing her away avenge the
wrongs they had done him.
While he is busy with the hosteller, his grooms, horses,
and arrangements, let us return to one who was quite as
busily taking measures to circumvent them—the inevit-
able Achanim.
In less than half an hour after his disappearance from
the church, he was closeted with the earl, who had just
risen from his knees, having been on a prie-dieu at
prayer before a crucifix and case Containing some crumbs
of the bones of St. Bryde—the chief palladium of the
house of Douglas.
" What tidings now," said he, " for thou art always
abroad in the night, like an owl or a rascally kirkyard
A WEDDING NIGHT.
267
bat 1 Miserere mei Deus !" he added, concluding his
orisons.
The earl was in a good humour; the formula of his
prayers and his adoration of the relics had partially
soothed his ferocious spirit; but on hearing what had
occurred his fury was on the verge of taking a very
dangerous turn, for, snatching a dagger from his girdle,
he seized Achanna by the throat, and tearing open his
collar and pourpoint, threatened to stab him for not
having prevented this secret and—so far as some of his
plans were concerned—most fatal marriage from taking
place by killing Gray on the spot.
" At the steps of the altar ?" gasped Achanna, strug-
gling to free himself.
"Anywhere; what mattered it, wretch, where you
slew my enemy 1" thundered Douglas, hurling him in a
heap against the wainscot.
" But—but, my lord—bethink you—'twere a sacrilege,
and the Dyck Graf would have broken me alive on the
wheel, even were I, like yourself, a belted earl."
" True; we are not now within a day's ride of Thrave,"
said the earl almost with a groan, as he sank into a chair,
and, overwhelmed by what seemed a sudden and irreme-
diable catastrophe, gave way to undignified fury and
abuse. He dared not trust himself in the presence of
Murielle, lest he should commit some fatal violence, or
in that of Albany, lest he might betray the source of
that unbecoming discomposure, which filled his proud
heart with shame at himself; and a rage at Gray, which
words cannot describe. Thus a long time elapsed before
he could arrange his thoughts after hearing Achanna
repeat at least twice all he had seen and overheard in the
church of St. Genevieve.
268 THE CAPTAIN OP THE GUAHD.
Desiring his pages to admit none (even the countess),
he turned to Achanna with his usually swarthy visage
turned white and livid by the fierce emotions that filled
his heart.
" We must dissemble, Achanna," said he in a husky
voice; "we must conceal this from Albany—from all;
but we must nevertheless destroy Sir Patrick Gray—
yea, this night, within a few brief hours, shall Murielle
Douglas be maid, wife, and widow! and as for my
lord the abbot, may the curse of the souls of my kin-
dred and of St. Bryde be on him, for a meddling mock
friar ! If I had him as near the Nith as we are near
the Waal, I would set him a-swimming with a millstone
at his neck for his handiwork to-night ! Yet, laus Deo!
I dare hardly address him, for, as it is, he withholds
absolution from me for many, many sins already com-
mitted. Torture ! men call me a tyrant, yet I am
the slave of a tyrant—of a priest;—and Lady Murielle,
she means to escape to-night"?"
" By the window which overlooks the arbour in the
garden ; oh, I heard all planned very distinctly."
" I shall be there with my sword; then woe to our
new-made husband," said Douglas, with a cruel smile.
" Nay, my lord, I can propose a better plan than
having recourse to steel," said Achanna, with one of his
wicked leers, as his plotting brain was again at work;
" Gray's bones seem made of malleable iron, but fire will
conquer even that."
" Your last scheme," said the earl, with a withering
glance, " did not prove very successful; but what is
your new one ?"
" Bethink you, Douglas, of the old story of the castle
of Kirkclaucli."
A WEDDING NIGHT.
269
"At Girthavon, in Galloway, or Girthon, as folk
name it now ?"
" Yes, Douglas," replied Achanna, who, in the old
Scottish fashion, called his leader by his name as fre-
quently as by his title.
" What of it 1 Speak quickly, for time is precious."
" It belonged to a desperate mosstrooper, named
Graeme," said Achanna, in his most insinuating voice
(while adjusting his habiliments which the earl had torn
in his wrath), and speaking in his native Gaelic, which
was the language of Galloway till after the reign of Mary,
and, while he spoke, he seemed to purr like a pleased
cat, and pleased he certainly was, when any wickedness
was to be done. " This Grseme had plundered, in open
raid, the lands of the laird of Muirfad, who, in revenge,
drew him into an ambush and slew all his men. Full of
rage and shame at his defeat, Grseme fled to his old
tower at Kirkclauch and vowed to have a terrible ven-
geance; but lo, ye ! Gordon of Muirfad appeared
suddenly before the closed gates with his exulting fol-
lowers, and summoned the almost lonely man to sur-
render. They had a long parley, in which Grseme, while
piling oiled faggots, straw, and other combustibles
against the wooden barrier, offered Gordon a sum in gold
as black mail. The offer was accepted, and the money
was to be handed through an eyelet-hole in the top
of the gate, where the warder was wont to sit watching
the road-way with his arblast. Standing upon his
horse's saddle to reach this shot-hole, Gordon passed
through his right hand, over which Grseme, with a
laugh of derision, threw an iron chain, and thus noosed
him hard and fast to the stone arch above. He then
fired the pile below, and retired, saying, 'You're wel-
270
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUAED.
come to your black mail, Muirfad, but by my soul yotL
will find it rather hot!' The flames rose fast, and the
fettered man shrieked in vain, for even his own kinsmen
failed to rescue him, while Grseme escaped by a secret
postern, leaving the tower of Kirkclauch and all who
were in it a prey to destruction. Muirfad was roasted
in his armour like a buttered crab, and sorely would the
Gordons have revenged this, had they dared; but Grseme
fled to Girthavon, ' the sanctuary by the river,' and be-
came a monk."
" Thou chattering dunce, what have I to do with all
this ?" asked the earl, who had listened to the story
with an impatient and sombre countenance.
" Does it not give you an idea, my lord ?"
"No ; but what is yours V'
" That we burn Sir Patrick Gray in his boots, and in
the same fashion."
" At Kirkclauch 1"
"No; here in Bommel, and this very night too."
" How ? Speak quickly, for I am not in a mood for
trifling," said Douglas, examining the point and edge of
a beautiful Parmese poniard which dangled at his girdle,
as if it were the readier means of ridding him of h,;s
enemy.
" Be pleased to listen to me with a little patience, lord
ear]," whined Achanna, " and I shall yet win those
thousand crowns of the Rhine. My plan is very simple.
Lady Murielle proposes to escape at midnight from the
window above the arbour in the garden, which lies
between this home and the church of St. Genevieve. In-
stead of the bride, I shall be at the window "
" To stab this new and most precious brother-in-law of
mine 1"
A WEDDING NIGHT.
271
'' No 3 to secure him, as Grseme secured Gordon, by an
iron chain, and then fire the faggots with which the
arbour below shall be previously filled. By St. Bryde !
he will roast in his armour like a nut in its shell."
"A rare vengean^o !" said the earl, rubbing his hands,
and almost laughing at the prospect of a punishment so sig-
nal and so terrible. " He will be deemed a Brabancione or
housebreaker 3 at all events, we shall leave Bommel by
day-break on our way towards Paris. Tell our master of
the horse and the duke of Albany to prepare. Send
hither Sir Alan Lauder, and to you, Achanna, I commit
the care of this matter. You failed me once "
" If I fail again, trust me no more," replied Achanna,
as he retired to put his plans in operation, and felt with
regret that by this suddenly projected departure from
Bommel, he would lose the thousand guilders he had
hoped to obtain by the capture of Count Ludwig.
The earl concealed his recently acquired information
from all, even from the countess, as he mistrusted her
discretion. He contrived to meet even his father con-
fessor with a bland smile at supper, though he trembled
with suppressed passion on perceiving the timid, con-
strained, preoccupied manner of Murielle 3 and then he
laughed inwardly as he thought of the grim tragedy
about to ensue.
After supper, he suddenly and emphatically desired
the countess to remove Murielle from her present sleep-
ing chamber, to one in a more distant part of the
mansion, and there to lock her in for the night.
His will, immutable as the laws of Draco, was imme-
diately obeyed, and thus, at the time when Murielle
jxpected to join her lover, she found herself terrified,
bewildered, and weeping in a solitary room, the grated
272
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUAM).
windows of which faced the high black wall of the
old CanOnry.
Achanna meanwhile had filled the arbour with wooden
faggots, dry branches, straw, and other fuel, on which he
poured more than one jar of oil. He procured a strong
chain bridle, and stationed himself at the window of the
apartment, which Murielle had hitherto occupied, and
there awaited his prey.
" What do these changes mean ?" asked the countess.
" To-morrow you shall know all," replied the earl,
with one of his crafty smiles, as he turned and left her.
Slowly passed the hours, and they were hours of
agony to Murielle. She knew not how much, or how
little, was known to her family of late events, but that
they suspected something her sudden seclusion fully
evinced. What would be the sequel ?
The hours were tolled in succession from the spire of
the church of St. Genevieve—ten, eleven, and at last
twelve—midnight. So certainly as these hours struck,
Gray would come and find himself deluded. He would
now be in the garden—now at the arbour—with his
eyes anxiously fixed on her window, and she—a sudden
emotion of rage filled her heart—rage that they should
arrogate such power over her, and dare to treat her like
a child ; but this gust did not last long, and was fol-
lowed by a shower of tears.
She rushed to the iron gratings of her windows, and
strove to shake them with her tender little hands.
There was no escape, no hope, no succour, and as the last
stroke of twelve reverberated in her heart and died away,
life seemed to die with it.
Then came a sound upon the night wind. It was the
clamour of voices, mingled with the clash of weapons ;
A "WEDDING NIGHT.
273
and next there spread upon the darkness a red and lurid
light, that wavered on the gloomy walls of the Canonry,
that lit up the buttresses of the Church of St. Genevieve,
and the wainscoting of her room. What did all this
portend ? Where was Patrick Gray, her world, her all,
now more than ever her Alpha and Omega ? Was he
beset by the Douglases? Oh, if so, she would soon
learn to abhor her own name.
She muffled her face and ears in her skirt, to shut out
sight and sound, for both seemed to portend but death
and woe.
When she looked up again the light had disappeared,
all was dark, and all was still, save the beating of her
heart, and the throbbing of her temples.
* * * * *
Let us return to Sir Pat-rick Gray.
He made all his arrangements with the prudence and
rapidity of a soldier. He had his horse (his favourite
roan) prepared, and carefully saddled j he had procured
a stout nag, with a lady's pad, for Murielle, and he
acquainted himself thoroughly with the route to be pur-
sued by Op Andel and Aim Kerque to Altena. Then
he waited with impatience for midnight, the time that
would give him freely and for ever his bride, his wife, his
long-loved Murielle, despite the wiles, the overweening
power, and the unrelenting treachery of Douglas and his
adherents.
Brightly shone the moon in the clear blue sky ; the
church spires, snowy white, with all their carvings and
tracery, their painted windows, and glittering crosses,
stood sharply up from the sea of pointed roofs which
covered the city of Bommel, but Gray wished for dark-
ness and obscurity. A small cloud came from the flat
T
274
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
horizon, and anxiously he watched its progress 3 but it
was of fleecy whiteness, and passed over the moon's
yellow disc like a gauze veil. He prayed that she would
go down befere the appointed time, and being on the
wane, she luckily did so—at least, ere half-past eleven,
fair Luna was hidden by the thick woods that grew near
Ameldroyen, and by the yellow haze exhaled from the
sedgy banks of the Waal.
The time was near ! He could count the minutes now,
be-fore he had reckoned by hours.
His heart beat quicker 3 he felt athirst, and drank a
last cup of wine, as he bade adieu to his hostelry for ever,
and mounting his roan, took the palfrey by the bridle,
and forgetting all about the closed gates of Bommel,
and that he was without an order from Jacques de Lalain
(unless the abbot had procured it), turned his steps
towards the church of St. Genevieve.
The padlocked chains which closed the ends of the
streets were a serious obstruction in the dark, but he
made his horses clear them by a bound, and each time
they did so, he dreaded that the patrols of the Burgher
Guard, or night watch, might hurry after him, to discover
what horseman was abroad so late, and on what errand.
But unseen he reached the church, and securing the horses in
a dark recess, between two deep buttresses, by fastening
their bridles to the carving of a niche, he hastened through
the north aisle, and issued by the postern into the gar-
den of the Dyck Graf's house. Then he saw the trellised
arbour, and above it the window of Murielle's apartments.
A light was burning there 3 a shadow crossed it—it
was she, and his heart leaped ! All around was still and
dark and sombre as he could have wished.
As he approached the window, a female figuro
a wedding night.
275
in a hood and veil appeared. Gray hurriedly clambered
to the roof of the arbour, the trellis-work of which
formed a most efficient scaling-ladder, and reached
the window, which was about twelve feet from the
ground.
" Murielle—your hand—we have not a moment to
lose ! " he whispered, and held up his arms to receive
and assist her.
At that moment he felt his right hand strongly grasped
and seemingly fettered, as a chain was thrown round his
wrist. He attempted to withdraw, but was firmly held.
" Murielle !" he exclaimed, in astonishment. There
was a mocking laugh, and as the hood fell off, his eyes
met those of James Achanna, glittering far apart like those
of a huge bird.
" Pray to St. Simon that he may lend you his saw, or
to St. Jude for his club, to break this fetter," said
Achanna, as he secured the chain to an iron staple in
the window-sill; " but the flames will be here, hot and
red, before either of them," he added, suddenly brandish-
ing a lighted torch, in the bright glare of which his
flushed face and protruding green eyes now resembled
those of a devil. Astonishment and rage trebled the great
natural strength of Gray. He grasped Achanna by the
throat with his left hand, and though the would-be assassin
strove to free himself, by savagely thrusting the blazing
torch in the face of his victim, the latter dragged him over
the window: down they came, battling together—the
chain and staple parted, and the two enemies fell crash
through the frail arbour, upon the heap of combustibles
below. These, by their previous preparation, the torch
ignited in a moment. A fiery blaze at once lit all the
garden, while Sir Patrick Gray and Achanna rolled over
t 2
276
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
each over, straggling to get at their daggers, each to
despatch his antagonist.
Achanna was below and Gray above, and as the dag-
ger was worn far back on the right side in those days,
the first could by no means get at his weapon, as it
was completely under him. Gray's strong left hand
clutched his throat with deadly tenacity, and his chest
was also crushed; but Gray searched in vain for his
dagger. It had dropped frcyn his belt in their fall, and
his sword was broken in threw places by the same circum-
stance, but with the heavy hilt and a fragment of the
blade which adhered to it, he rained a torrent of blows
upon the head and face of his adversary, whom he re-
solved to despatch as he would have done a snake, or a
viper, for it was now a combat to the death between them.
All this terrible episode occurred in a few moments, and
Gray in his fury, would inevitably have destroyed
Achanna, had there not rushed from the house, the earl
of Douglas, the lairds of Pompherston, Glendoning, and
Sairnglas, with Sir Alan Lauder, and several other persons,
>ome of whom were in their breeches and shirts, others
in helmets and cuirasses ; but all with torches or «andles,
and drawn swords.
Fortunately for Gray, twelve soldiers of the burgher
guard, whom the uproar had alarmed, came up at the
same moment, with their ponderous Flemish partizans,
or our story and his life had ended there together, for the
Douglases would infallibly have cut him to pieces.
Intent now on escaping, and preserving both his life
and his incognito, Gray fought with the vigour of despair.
"Wrenching a partizan from a Waloon soldier, he struck
right and left to hew a passage through his assailants.
He knocked down Douglas of Pompherston, and severely
WEDDING NIGHT.
27?
wounded two of the night watch, by piercing their
cuirasses of boiled bull-hide ; but being pressed furiously
by their comrades, he was soon beaten to the ground,
disarmed, dragged away through the streets, and carried
to the castle of Bommel, where he was thrust into a
common dungeon and left to his own reflections, which
were neither very lucid nor lively.
His horses, his leathern mail or portmanteau, and
papers became the spoil of the Douglases; his rich
cassock coat, the gift of Duke Arnold, and the ring which
he was commissioned by Katharine, the duchess of
Gueldres, to convey to the young king, her future son-in-
law, became the prey of James Achanna, who openly ap-
propriated and wore both, and whom the earl sent to
Messire Jacques de Lalain, the Dyck Graf, to request
that Gray, "as a notorious outlaw and consorter with
Ludwig of Endhoven, should be broken alive upon the
wheel, by noon next day."
All his papers were gone; thus he could afford no
written or satisfactory account of himself, and obstinately
refused to say what object brought him into conflict with
Achanna, as he was determined that the name of Murielle
—his wife—should not be compromised, even in a foreign
country.
It was soon known and proved by the evidence of the
officious and now terrified keeper of the hostelry, at
which he lately lodged, that he had assumed at times, if
not constantly, the dress and character of a Muscovite
merchant.
" For what reason ?" asked De Lalain; but Gray
declined to answer.
Was he a spy of Philip of Burgundy, or of Charles of
France ? was the next surmise. But the latter at that'
278
the captain of the guard.
time had no thought of war or politics, and was forgetting
everything in the arms of Agnes Soreau (commonly called
Sorel), a beautiful demoiselle of Touraine. The fact of
disguise looked very suspicious, but none knew exactly of
what.
Again Douglas urged that he should be executed
without delay; but grief and despair threw Gray into a
burning fever, " ane het sicknesse," the abbot, his kinsman
terms it; so the Dyck Graf declined to be precipitate,
but kept him a close prisoner, and on the day after this
affair, the earl of Douglas, with all his retinue,
accompanied by the duke of Albany, left Bommel, and
took the road by Ameldroyen, towards the frontier of
France.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
a glance at history.
Visions of the days departed,
Shadowy phantoms fill my brain;
They who live in history only,
Seem to walk the earth again.
Longfellow.
The spring of 1443 was ripening into summer around
the Scottish capital. The green corn was sprouting in
the fields; the April gowans and the budding whins made
gay the upland slopes and braes.
Many months had elapsed since Sir Patrick Gray
should have returned to court with an account of his
mission. The Regent Livingstone and the chancellor
became impatient, and despatched Patrick Lord Glammis,
Master of the Household, to the court of Gueldres, from
A GLANCE AT HISTORY.
279
whence he soon returned, with a duplicate of the letters
entrusted to Gray, of whom no trace had been discovered,
since Prince Adolphus and his retinue had separated
from him at "Wees, when on his way to the coast, and
at the distance of twenty miles from the castle of
Gueldres.
This was somewhat perplexing ; the old chancellor,
who had a strong friendship for Gray, now really mourned
for him as one who was no more, believing that he had been
slain in some mysterious manner, and the young king
wept before the Lords of the Secret Council, to whom
Glammis made his report. Crichton knew that the earl
of Douglas had been in Flanders, with all his chosen
followers, and their unscrupulous character made the
friends of Sir Patrick fear the worst.
In those days, posts there were none, letters were
few, travellers fewer, and one half of Europe knew
nothing of the other ; but, nevertheless, distant rumours
informed the regent and chancellor of Scotland that
Douglas and his train, with the forfeited duke of Albany,
after a brief sojourn at the court of Charles the Sevenths
had passed on towards Rome.
In his rage at the abbot John, the earl vowed " to
raze Tongland Abbey to its groundstone," and to do
many other absurd and impossible things; but one
threatening wave of the abbot's hand, and a denunciation
from his otherwise good-natured lips, brought the
superstitious noble on his knees, grovelling, and in prayer,
which was invariably replaced by fury and maledictions
as soon as his mentor retired. He promised to forgive
Gray, and within the hour despatched Achanna with one
of his many letters to the Dyck Graf of Bommel, urging
bi3 secret execution. He then ordered the abbot to
280 THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
return tc Scotland, and in the same breath begged he
would accompany him to Rome ; and the abbot, being
most anxious for a personal interview with the sovereign
pontiff, silently consented to do so, though despising in
his heart the titled penitent he followed.
John Douglas, abbot of the Premonstratensian monks
of Tongland, held for the haughty earl, the keys of
heaven and of hell, and made him writhe in his supersti-
tious soul at the terrible conviction.
In 1444, as Crichton had arranged, the king took into
his own hands the government of the nation, in a
convention of the Three Estates, which met within the
castle of Stirling, and at the same time, the papal legate
came from beyond the sea, in great pomp and bravery,
to exact a solemn oath of fealty to Rome from all the
Scottish Bishops. Such oaths were beginning to be
requisite now, for already had the smoke of those funeral
fires, to which they had consigned Resby the Englishman,
and Crawar the Bohemian, "infected all on whom it was
blown."
The poor chancellor had his hands full of troublesome
business, for the Scottish lords were again at their old
hereditary occupations, rapine and slaughter.
Patrick Galbraith, a follower of the earl of Douglas,
quarrelled with Robert Semple, of Eulwood, about who
should command in the royal fortress of Dunbarton, where
one was governor of the upper, and the other of the
lower castle. The sword was speedily resorted to ; Semple
was slain, and a strong garrison of Douglas-men occupied
the place. The Lindesays and Ogilvies fought the disas-
trous feudal battle of Arbroath to decide whose chief
should be bailie of that regality ; and there fell on that
A glajnce at history.
281
bloody field, Alexander, earl of Crawford, six kniglits,
and six hundred men-at-arms.
Then Robert Boyd, of Doughal, ran his sword through
Sir James Stewart, of Auchminto, at a lonely place near
Kirkpatrick, where the summer woods grew thick and
green, and carried off his wife to the castle of Dunbarton,
where she brought forth a child prematurely, and died of
grief and terror in two days after. Archibald Dunbar
stormed the great castle of the earl of Hailes, slew the
inmates, and gave it up to the Douglases, while the
moss-troopers of Annandale, lest their weapons should
rust, kept all the western marches in hot water by their
raids and devastations, which were seldom confined to their
own border.
The sisters of the king were actually considered" in
danger, so daring or so enterprising were the younger
knights of the Douglas faction ; thus the princesses Jane
and Eleonora departed to visit their sister, the unhappy
dauphiness of France, but arrived too late to see her.
She had died of a broken heart, having sunk, under the
cruelty of her husband (afterwards Louis XI., of infamous
memory) and shame at the false charges of Jamet de
Tilloy. Eleonora became the wife of Sigismund, archduke
of Austria ; but the princess Jane returned to her first
love, who was the Scottish earl of Angus.
"All the mischiefs at home," says Buchanan, "were
imputed to the earl of Douglas, who did all he could to
conceal the misdemeanour of his followers, while he studied
to afflict the men of different parties; in consequence
of the vastness of his power, it was almost a capital
offence to call aught he did in question. His influence
compelled Sir James Stuart, of Lorn, the king's uncle, to
282
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUAED.
fly the realm, because he spoke freely of the desperate state
of the people ; and his ship was taken at sea by Flemish
pirates, among whom he ended his life in misery."
Such was the hard fate of the Black Knight of Lorn,
the husband of the Queen Dowager of Scotland—Jane
Beaufort, the fair flower of Windsor.
The English, as usual, took advantage of these turmoils
to enter Scotland and burn the tower of Dumfries ; so in
return for this piece of attention, the Scots, under Lord
Balvenie, burned Alnwick, and laid waste to Northumber-
land, reducing it almost to a desert; and soon after
fifteen thousand English, Older the Lord Piercy, were
cut to pieces on the frontier, as they were about to cross
a second time.
The Cheviots, said by a modern writer, to be " a clasp
riveting Scotland and England together," were then
deemed, like the Tweed and Solway elsewhere, but a
natural barrier placed by the hand of God between two
rival kingdoms. War brought famine and disease in her
ghastly tra,in, and so closed the year 1448.
Previous to this, the chancellor taking advantage of the
lull caused by the defeat of the English and the capture
of their leaders, the earls of Northumberland and Hunt-
ingdon, assembled a suitable train and sailed for Flanders,
to bring home the young king's betrothed bride, for whose
reception, great preparations were made at court.
Crichton was long absent, as he went by the way of
Tours, to renew the ancient league with France, which
was again ratified by him and other Scottish ambassadors
for James II. ; and by Thibaud, bishop of Maillerais, the
Sieur de Pretigni and Messire Guillaume Cousinat, on the
part of Charles VII.
After this the lord chancellor rode towards Gueldres.
the prisoner.
283
CHAPTER XL.
the prisoner.
It might be months, or years, or days,
I kept no count—I took no note ;
I had no hope my eyes to raise,
And clear them of their dreary mote.—Biron.
Meanwhile, during the occurrence of all these stirring
events where was Sir Patrick Gray 1
A prisoner of state in the castle of Bommel, detained
there, to all appearance, hopelessly, by order of Jacques
de Lalain, the Dyck Graf.
This official knew not whether to believe the informa-
tion and reiterated statements of Sir Patrick, or those of
the vindictive earl of Douglas. The secret manner in
which Gray had resided in Bommel, and the disguise he
had assumed, were denounced by the burgomaster, as un-
worthy the character of an envoy and the captain of a
royal guard ; they were declared suspicious, though no one
could exactly say of what bad errand or object. Then,
in that unexplained midnight brawl, concerning the origin
of which Sir Patrick maintained an obstinate silence, he
had wounded almost to death two citizens of good repute ;
and he was totally without papers or property to verify
the account he gave of himself, as all he possessed had
fallen into the hands of the Douglases, who had destroyed
the former and appropriated the latter.
The hatred displayed by a noble so powerful as the
earl and by his brilliant train of followers towards him,
and their urgent demands for his execution, with or
without a trial, convinced Jacques de Lalain that some
great mystery was involved; that his prisoner was a
284
THE CAPTAIN OF TI1E GUARD.
man of considerable importance ; and that it would be
alike impolitic to hang or to release him. Hence he
ordered, that he should be well attended, and comfortably
lodged in the fortress of Bommel, but closely guarded and
confined to the tower of Otho III.
Arnold d'Egmont, duke of Gueldres, had already
begun to be embroiled by his unnatural son, Prince
Adolphus, and was absent at the ducal court of Bur-
gundy ; thus to numerous letters on the subject of his
unfortunate prisoner, the Dyck Graf received no explicit
answer, so time rolled wearily and drearily on.
And what of Murielle ? was the constant thought of
Gray.
She was now his, irrevocably his, and while aware of
his existence could not, either by force or fraud, become the
wife of another. Amid all the misery of a protracted
captivity, there was comfort in his conviction, till after-
thoughts suggested how heartless was the existence to
which their precipitate marriage had perhaps condemned
her!
But might not their enemies, by forgeries and false state-
ments, delude ho into an idea of his death, as they had
attempted to do before 1 Douglas dared not trifle with
the power and terror of the Church ; so Gray drew conso-
lation from his memory of the earl's superstition, if not
of his religion.
Yet there were times when his mental agony became
great; for no news from Scotland or of the external
world ever reached his prison.
Was Murielle still living? Had the wild schemes of
Douglas and Albany prospered ? Was the latter on the
throne as Bobert IV., with the terrible earl for his lieu-
tenant-general, his ally in council and his right arm in war
THE PRISONER.
235
—crowned like Baliol of old, by domestic treason and
foreign treachery 1 Was the young king dead, a prisoner,
or an exile in France or England 1 Was Albany's betrothal
to Mademoiselle Radegonde, the eldest daughter of
Charles "VII., annulled ? What changes were taking
place in his secluded mountain home ? Who were dead
—who living, and who wedded 1 Was he quite forgot-
ten there ?
Such were the questions ever in his heart and on his
tongue.
Slowly passed the weary days till they became months,
and then season succeeded to'season. Five times had Gray,
from his barred window in that old tower of Otho count of
Gueldres, seen the golden grain gathered on the flat and
distant fields ; five times had he seen the land ploughed,
and sown, and reaped; and five times covered with
the white mantle of winter, when frost locked the waters
of the Waal, and moored, harder than ever hempen cable
and iron anchor did, the great brown-varnished barges
in the sedge-bordered canals, when the storks forsook
their nests on the snow-covered gables, when the holy
water froze in the stone fonts of the churches, and when
the bulbous-shaped Flemings put on at least six pairs of
additional breeches. At such a season as this, the poor
prisoner pictured in fancy the crackling yule-log that
blazed in his father's hall at home—the old kirk of Foulis
all bedecked with green bays and greener holly—his
mother mourning by the winter hearth for the loss of
her absent son; and then his heart grew sick as he
thought of his blighted love, his wasted life, and all the
thousand memories of his native land.
He thought, too, of what he had seen in more than one
Flemish market-place, in Antwerp, at Gueldres, End-
286
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
hoven, Bommel, and elsewhere; the cruel and perio-
dical exhibition of a long-secluded prisoner, in whose
heart hope, and even the memory of the outer world,
were long since dead; " for there on particular days,"
says a certain writer, " these victims are presented to the
public eye, upon a stage erected in the open market, appa-
rently to prevent their guilt and punishment from being
forgotten. It is scarcely possible to witness a sight more
degrading to humanity than this exhibition :—with mat-
ted hair, wild looks, and haggard features, with eyes
dazzled by the unwonted glare of the sun, and ears
deafened and astounded by the sudden exchange of the
silence of a dungeon for the busy hum of men, the wretches
sit like rude images fashioned to a fantastic imitation
of humanity rather than like living and reflecting beings.
In the course of time we are assured they generally
become either madmen or idiots, as mind or matter hap-
pens to predominate, when the mysterious balance
between them is destroyed."
Gray remembered to have seen these miserable captives
thus exhibited, and his heart died within him with terror,
lest such might be the fate reserved for himself.
So the year 1448 was in its spring when he reckoned
that Murielle was no longer a girl—that in fact she would
be about her four-and-twentieth year. He strove to pic-
iure what the girl would be now, when expanded into a
woman! Would he ever see her more, or be free to
tread his native soil again ? Alas 1 there were times when
he feared his brain would turn.
. Count Ludwig had long since been taken in the ad-
jacent forest, after a hard conflict between the soldiers
of De Lalain and his Brabanciones, many of whom, in-
eluding Gustaf Vlierbeke, and the industrious Carl
THE PRISONER.
287
Langfanger, were slain, and gibbeted on the trees. The
wretched count was broken alive on the wheel, before
the Church of St. Genevieve. He survived the torture
for three days, before the public executioner gave him
the final coup with an iron bar, and his head on a spike
now rendered the market-place of Bommel horrible to its
frequenters.
Gray heard of this barbarous execution in his prison,
and he almost envied the reckless robber, for death
seemed a triumphant release from tyranny, misery, and
mental suffering.
In February, 1448, on a dull morning, when the
yellow winter fog hung like a pall over the level scenery
of the Bommeler-waard, Gray was roused from sleep by
the roar of twenty great bombards, the concussion of
which shook the old castle of Count Otho to its founda-
tions as they exploded in a salvo.
Had an enemy, the French or Burgundians, attacked
it suddenly? His heart leaped with joy at the desperate
hope. He rushed to the grated window of his room, and
saw in the courtyard beneath, the Dyck Graf, with his
sword and mantle, his knightly girdle and collar, muster-
ing and arraying his garrison in their armour, pikemen,
crossbowmen, arquebusiers, all steady Walloons and
German lanzknechts. Then came the clangour of the
church bells, and cheers of a multitude without, who
seemed to be rushing through the streets towards the
gate of the fortress, while still the great brazen bom-
bards continued to belch forth flame and thunder from
the battlements.
"What has happened?" asked Gray, as he rushed
half dressed from his room to the courtyard. "Oh,
Messire," he added to the Dyck Grafi " in pity tell me ?"
288
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUAED.
" Only a salute, raessire," replied the governor curtly,
in French; but as Gray observed, with more politeness
than usually was accorded to him.
" To whom 1"
" A demoiselle of the highest rank."
" But her name, Messire ?" urged Gray.
" The young queen of Scotland, who comes this way
with her train," replied the Dyck Graf.
Gray almost gasped with joy.
" The daughter of duke Arnold 1" he inquired.
" Yes ; of Monseigneur the duke of Gueldres ; she has
been married to your king at Brussels, and is now on her
way to Scotland."
" I am saved—saved at last! " exclaimed Gray, in a
burst of happiness, so genuine that even the grim De
Lalain was impressed by it. " Oh, my God, I thank thee !
(oh, my Murielle!)—and—and, messire, is the king here ?"
" Tonnere de ciel! how inquisitive you have become."
" Messire, after all I have endured you may excuse
me, for many a sun has risen and set—many a tide has
ebbed and flowed since I became a prisoner here, spend-
ing years, whose agony is known to Heaven and to myself
only !"
"Well—the king is not here; the princess was mar-
ried to him by proxy—the chancellor of Scotland being
his representative, before the altar of St. Gudule."
"Sir William Crichton?"
" I think that is his name, messire ; and by St. Gene-
vieve ! " he added as the clanking iron gates were rolled
back by the warders, " she hath a brave retinue of lords
and knights, and, as many of them are your countrymen,
we shall now be able to verify the truth of your
statements."
'fTIE PRISONER.
289
"Within an hour after this, Sir Patrick Gray found
himself a free man, and surrounded by his countrymen
and friends, all loyal gentlemen of the court, who knew
him well. He was cordially embraced by the old chan-
cellor, who presented him to the young Queen Mary, and
placed him by her side, as the captain of her husband's
Royal Guard.
Messire Jacques de Lalain, on perceiving the turn
matters took with his prisoner, began to fear that in the
zealous execution of his office he had made a mistake.
He offered innumerable apologies to Gray, and as he was
not ungenerous, he presented him with a rich suit of
Flemish armour, a fine Toledo, a Spanish gennet, and a
catella or chain, having fifty links of fine gold, as an
amende for all he had endured.
Of all who accompanied the chancellor, he inquired
about the Douglases j but could only learn that they
were at Rome, and probably would not return until after
the great jubilee, which took place then every fiftieth
year, in honour of the foundation of Christianity.
The young queen's train embarked at Sluys, in Scottish
ships, and crossed the German sea in safety.
On the 1st of April, 1448, she landed at Leith, and as
an illustration of " how dull and common-place fiction is
when compared with truth," the Dyck Graf of Bommel,
and Sir Patrick Gray, who had been so long and so hope-
lessly his prisoner, rode side by side, as she proceeded
towards Edinburgh, and they bore over her head a canopy
of cloth of gold upon the points of their lances.
Gray's noble horse and gorgeous armour were now as
conspicuous as his soldierly bearing and manly beauty ;
for both had now returned, and in his five years of cap-
17
290
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
tivity the scars inflicted by the ghisarma of Douglas had
disappeared, or nearly so.
Patrick Cockburn, of Newbigging, now provost of
Edinburgh and governor of the castle, received the queen
at the head of the magistrates and all the men of the
city, in armour—" boden in effeir of weir," as it was then
termed.
Mary was accompanied by the lord chancellor Crichton,
John Baulston, bishop of Dunkeld, who was lord privy
seal, and Nicholas Otterburn, a canon of Glasgow. The
prince of Bavenstein, the marquis of Berg, and Engle-
bert, count of Nassau, hereditary Burg Graf of Antwerp,
who were each followed by a brilliant train of attendants,
wore the collars and mantles of the Golden Fleece. The
prince bore the banner of the bride's uncle, Philip III.,
surnamed the Good, duke of Burgundy.
Then came the bishops of Liege and Cambrai, riding
upon white mules, with long footcloths.
The king's two brothers-in-law came next, Francis,
duke of Brittany (a prince who slew his brother Giles),
and the Archduke Sigismund of Austria, each attended by
knights, banners, squires, and pages, in glittering cos-
tumes. With them came Louis II., duke of Savoy,
prince of Piedmont, and husband of the princess royal
of Cyprus, with his banner borne by the duke of Mont-
ferrat, who wore a scarlet tabard, with the silver cross of
Savoy.
The lord of Campvere, a handsome and black-bearded
man, the husband of Mary of Scotland (fifth sister of
James), came next in a suit of armour glittering with
gold carvings and precious stones. He bore a great ban-
ner—azure, with the lion or, crowned for Gueldreland,
THE PRISONER.
291
and azwe a lion gules for Zutphen, impaled, with the
lion of Scotland, within its double tressure of fleur-de-lis.
Herre de Meriadet, hereditary Burg Graf of the castle
of Sluys, bore the banner of the count of Nassau, azure
sprinkled with crosses argent. Meriadet, a tall and stately
man, was then famous as one of the best knights in
Europe, and the people received him with acclamation.
He wore a silver helmet of great beauty and remarkable
form, which he had struck in battle from the head of an
emir of Granada, when he served the king of Castile in
his wars against the Moors, and its snow-white plumes
drooped upon his shoulders, and were reflected on the daz-
zling surface of his armour, which literally blazed in the
noonday sunshine.
Bombards were fired, and bells were loudly rung in
many a sacred edifice now numbered with the things
that were ; and so " with a grate traine of knights and
ladeys" (as Balfour has it), the queen was conducted
to the church of Holyrood, and there solemnly married
to the young king, then in about the nineteenth year of
his age, and in the bloom of youthful strength and come-
liness y and Mary his bride charmed the people by her
girlish loveliness. They were never tired of extolling
her fair hair, which fell in golden masses on her snowy
neck and shoulders; her violet-coloured eyes, and her
full yet curved lip, which expressed the softness of love,
with that firmness of character so needed in a queen of
the turbulent Scots.
This was the second time that the houses of Scotland
and the then powerful and independent dukedom of
Gueldres had been connected by marriage.
Alexander, son of Alexander III., espoused Margaret,
daughter of Guy de Dampierre, earl of Flanders; and
292
the captain of the GUAItD.
bad he lived, and she been queen of Scotland, the disas-
trous wars of the Edwards and the victories of "Wallace
and Bruce had never been heard of; but he died at Box-
burgh, in 1283, when in his twentieth year. Margaret
interred him at Lindores, in the old abbey church of
St. Mary, and soon after became the wife of Beinald,
the warlike duke and count of Gueldres.
CHAPTEB XLI.
crichton.
The towers in different ages rose,
Their various architecture shows
The builders'various hands ;
A mighty mass, that could oppose
When deadliest hatred fired its foes,
The vengeful Douglas bands.—Marmion.
Amid all the rejoicings on the occasion of this royal
marriage the heart of Gray was sad.
Time had not lessened his love for Murielle Douglas,
and he grew sick at heart when contemplating the appa-
rent hopelessness of his separation from her : yet she
was his wife, whom no man could take from him.
while life remained ; but so broken did he become in
spirit, that notwithstanding all the barbarity and wrong
he had endured from the Douglases and their chief, there
were times when he resolved to seek the presence of the
latter, and, divested of sword, dagger, and armour,
make the desperate attempt of offering his ungloved
hand, "which," as the chancellor told him with a grimace,
"hemight as safely thrust into the mouth of a hungry
tiger"
CRICHTON.
293
The young monarch, who loved Gray and pitied him
for his story, heaped favours upon him, such as fino
horses, rich armour, purses, and swords, enabling him
to appear to the best advantage among the brilliant
foreign chivalry by whom the Scottish court was then
crowded—knights who were the flower of France,
Bretagne, Gueldres, and Burgundy—men whose sons
were to win the great battles of Charles the Bold, and to
die by his side on the field of Campo Basso.
To all whom he trusted the manner of James II. was
most winning; it was the old hereditary charm of his
family, who seemed never to forget the maxim,—the
higher the head the humbler the heart.
For his diplomatic services in this marriage and other
matters, Crichton, as already mentioned, had been created
a peer of the realm; and when the beauty of the young
queen and the dowry she brought are considered, he had
some reason to congratulate himself on a result so sue-
cessful.
Philip of Burgundy bound himself to pay his niece,
the bride, sixty thousand pounds in gold, as a portion
merely of her dower, while James settled upon her ten
thousand crowns, secured on land in Atholl, Methven,
Stratharn, and Linlithgow; and he relinquished all
claim to the duchy of Gueldres, after which a league
offensive and defensive was concluded between that pro-
vince, the kingdoms of Scotland, France, and the duke-
dom of Burgundy.
A series of brilliant tournaments were held in honour
of these events; and the Dyck Graf of Bommel, with
his brother, Messire Simon de Lalain, with Messire
Herre de Meriadet, Burg Graf of Sluys, three Burgun
dian lords of high descent and esteemed valour, chal-
294
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
lenged "an equal number of Scottish chivalry to joust
with lance and sword, battle-axe and dagger."
This defiance was promptly responded to by a knight
named Sir James Douglas, James Douglas, Lord ol
Lochlevin, and Sir John Eoss of Halkhead, constable of
Eenfrew. The latter was attended by Sir Patrick Gray,
while Sir Thomas MacLellan and Eomanno of that Ilk
attended the other two, ready to take part in the mAlee
if the strife became a bloody one. A space near
the castle rock of Stirling was selected for the lists,
and gaily-decorated galleries were erected for the
king, the queen, and court, the lords and barons of
parliament.
On the appointed day, the six champions, after hearing
mass, presented themselves, clad in velvet and cloth of
gold, before the king, and after each had made a low
reverence, they retired to six painted pavilions to arm ;
after which, lanced, horsed, and in full and splendid
armour, with closed helmets, they entered the lists at
opposite extremities; and when twelve brass trumpets
made the summer sky and castle rock re-echo to their
united blast, the knights rushed on each other, three
against three.
" For Scotland !" shouted Eoss and the Douglases.
" Yivat Burgundie !" replied Meriadet and the De
Lalains.
Such were the war-cries on each side.
Their tough ash spears were splintered in an instant,
the fragments springing high in air from the ringing
coats of tempered steel. Panting and quivering, with
flashing eyes and snorting nostrils, the gaily-trapped
horses recoiled upon their straining haunches, till wheeled
round, and urged forward again, by spur and knee, by
GKICHTON.
295
voice and bridle, and fiercely the combat was renewed,
as the six knights closed up, hand to hand, with flashing
swords and swaying battle-axes.
Sir James Douglas and Sir John Ross, and the Dyck
Graf and Simon de Lalain, were so equally matched that
not one of them could obtain the least advantage over
the other, though they, fought till all their armour was
defaced, and, save Douglas's dagger, all their weapons
were broken; but Herre de Meriadet, by one blow of his
battle-axe, unhorsed the lord of Lochlevin, as he had
formerly done the emir of Granada, and hurled him to
the ground.
On seeing this, and fearing the conflict might have
a disastrous termination, the king, at Crichton's request,
threw down his truncheon and the jousts were ended,
just as Gray, MacLellan, and Romanno were about to
join in the melee with the three Burgundian squires.
So passed this year, and then came the next, in which
rumour reached the Scottish court of how the turbulent
earl of Douglas and his warlike followers comported
themselves in the Eternal City, during the festivities
which opened with the year of the Jubilee, 1450; for there
the Scottish knights, who wore the red heart on their
helmets and surcoats, became involved in a brawl with
the Roman populace on the crowded bridge of St. Angelo,
and betook them to their lances, swords, and mauls as
freely as if they had been in the High Street of Edin-
burgh, or the Broad Wynd of Stirling, and played the
devil in the capital of his holiness, spearing and trampling
the people under foot; and they it was who caused that
tremendous pressure by which, as history records, ninety-
seven persons were killed at the end of the bridge, by
being simply crushed to death.
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Pope Nicholas V., who had lately succeeded the unfor-
tunate Eugene, was so inspired by indignation, that all
hope of a fuller dispensation for the earl and his
countess was at an end. There too were dissipated all
the poor abbot of Tongland's expectations of having the
prince of darkness restored to favour, for, as he records
in his papers, the very name of " Douglace gart ye paip
to scunner ;" so, in despair, he committed to the flames
the memorial he had prepared on behalf of his ubiquitous
protege, and abandoned his pet project for the time.
Then, to the infinite satisfaction of Murielle, the earl,
separated from the duke of Albany, and hearing how high
his rival Crichton stood in favour at the Scottish court, and
that, under Rom anno, troops had been sent into Gallo-
way to ravage the Douglas lands, and punish their
disorderly occupants, he returned secretly and with all
speed homeward, for the express purpose of cutting off
the chancellor by the strong hand, and more than ever
determined on carrying out his old schemes of ven-
geance.
Passing through England in the spring of the year,
after some treasonable correspondence with Henry VI.,
he arrived in Scotland, and, unknown to Crichton,
secretly ensconced himself at Dalkeith, the castle of his
kinsman, James, third lord of Dalkeith, while Achanna
and another follower, bribed by the proffer of a gauntlet
filled with silver crowns, watched the movements of the
chancellor, who was then suffering from ill health, his
advanced years, and the cares of the state, and who
resided in the castle of Edinburgh. An opportunity for
mischief soon presented itself.
It chanced that on Lady Day, in March, the chancellor
left his residence to visit his own house of Crichton,
297
which stands about twelve miles south from the city
He was accompanied by Sir Patrick Gray, Sir Thomas
MacLellan, Romanno, constable of Edinburgh Castle
and master of the king's ordnance, Patrick Lord
Glammis, and about twenty gentlemen, all well mounted
and armed.
The day was fine and clear, the sharp March winds
blustered through the hollows and swept the last year's ■
leaves before it over the uplands, where the fresh soil
glittered in the sunshine, and where the hoodie-crow
searched in the furrows for worms ; the birds were sing-
ing in the hedge-rows, where the buds were springing
into greenness; the air was mild and cool, the fields
were assuming a verdant hue, though the brown spoil of
the departed year lay damp and rotting in the mountain
runnels, and along the sedgy banks of loch and stream.
The rich aroma of the land came on the passing breeze,
that shook the old woods of Drumshelch and Dalrigh.
Over miles of land now covered by the "modern
Athens," for ages into times unknown and far beyond
the knowledge or record of man, the oaks of these old
woods shook down their autumn leaves upon the lair of
the elk, the snow-white mountain bull, and of those
ferocious Scottish bears, which in after-days, as Martial
tells us, were used by the pagan Romans to increase the
torture of those Christians who perished on the cross.
Drumshelch was one of those old primeval forests, from
which the first dwellers in the land named themselves
Coille-dhoinean—Caledonians, or the men of the woods.
Though the month was March, the season having been
moist, the peasantry were consigning the whins to the
flames, though such was contrary to the law of James I.,
and the white smoke of the muir-burn, as it was named,
298 THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
rolled along the hills of Braid and the more distant slopes
of the Pentlands like a mimic conflagration.
It was spring, and one of the most delightful days
of the season, when men's hearts grow buoyant, they
scarcely know why.. Even Gray felt its influence, for it
gave him new emotions of pleasure and of hope. It was
little more than the commencement of a new year; but
it was one the end of which none could foresee. He had
heard that the Douglases were returning. How little
could he imagine that Murielle was then only six miles
distant from him, where the strong old castle of Dal-
keith, from its wooded slope, overlooked the lovely Esks.
He conversed gaily with the knights and gentlemen of
the chancellor's train, as they rode down the steep wind-
ing street, named the Bow, and passed to the eastward
along a narrow way between hedgerows, which bordered
the city on the south in the long deep hollow, on the
opposite bank of which then stood only one edifice—the
solitary church of St. Mary-in-the-Eield, surrounded by its
burying-ground. It was a lonely bridle-road this path
through the hollow—a place where the birds carolled by
day, the glow-worms glittered by night, and the brown
rabbits started from side to side at all times.
Three crow-stepped and gable-ended edifices, then
standing far apart, were there. One belonged to Richard
Lundy, then a monk, and afterwards abbot of Melrose ;
another was a little chapel of Holyrood, which stood at
the foot of St. Giles's churchyard ; the third was an old
farmhouse.
This narrow and solitary hedge-row was then the south-
gate and the future Cowgate of Edinburgh.
As the chancellor and his train issued from it into the
more open country, they took no heed of two armed
UKICHTON.
299
horsemen—for all men in Scotland went armed—who
left the city before them, and who, after frequently looking
back, as if reckoning their number and watching their
route, disappeared at full speed to the southward.
At a rapid pace our friends crossed the ridge of Kirk-
liberton, passing between the fortlet of the Winrams and
the holy well of St. Catherine. They crossed both the
wooded Esks, and ascended the long line of cultivated
hill, then an open waste, known as the Eoman camp of
Agricola, where the mounds and trenches which his
warriors dug in the year 80 may still be distinctly traced ;
and then southward in the distance, the chancellor's
retinue could see his castle of Crichton on the western
slope of a green eminence, where its walls and towers, a
glorious relic of Scotland's stormy days, all built of red
coloured freestone, glowed ruddily in the light of the
evening sun. And this feudal fortress appeared to rise
higher on its steep as the proprietor's train descended into
the deep and marshy valley which it overhangs.
Crichton is a vast quadrangular fortress, exhibiting in
its stone staircases and arcaded court, wonderful archi-
tectural beauty and great strength, as it adjoined that
part of the wild and lawless border-land which lay nearest
to the Scottish capital. Toned down by time, its corroded
carvings, so rich and so florid in their details, impress with
astonishment the wanderer who comes suddenly in view
of its mouldering remains, as they stand in a lonely glen,
remote and secluded alike from road and railway, from
tourist and traveller. A fallen tower has now choked up
the terrible massy-more or secret dungeon, and the cham-
bers where Mary Stuart and Both well-held high revelry
—where the lady of Hailes wept for the slaughter of her
iord and all his kindred at Elodden, and where the wily
300
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
old chancellor wove his plans for the downfall of the
Douglases, are now roofless and windowless—the abode of
the fox and the fuimart—the ravenous gled and the
hoodie-crow.
As the chancellor's train, all of whom being men of
rank were in bright armour, rode by the narrow bridle-
path, between the green pastoral hills, and entered
Cricbtondean, through which flows a sluggish streamlet,
known as the Scottish Tyne, but which becomes a rush-
ing river when it reaches the ocean at Dunbar, they were
soon visible to the inmates of the castle, several of whom
waved their handkerchiefs from the keep, where the great
bell was rung and a banner displayed, while the Milan
plate and steel of the visitors were seen to glitter in the
sunlight, between the masses of alder tree which then
clothed the now bare and desolate sides of the narrow
valley.
Those white handkerchiefs were waved by the chan-
cellor's lady, who had so kindly nursed Sir Patrick Gray,
his daughters, Agnes, wife of Alexander, master of
Glammis, and Elizabeth, afterwards Gountess of Huntly,
two of the most beautiful women of the time, who were
on the bartizan with several of their friends and at-
tendants. But as their father, with his retinue, banner,
and horsemen, disappeared where the alder-woods grew
thickest, they heard a tumultuous shout, the sound of a
trumpet, and the clamour of many voices, ascending to
their ears on the breeze of the valley.
Conversing merrily with Sir Patrick Gray, the old
chancellor rode his ambling nag at an easy pace, with a
favourite hawk, the gift of his neighbour, the Knight of
Locharwart, perched on his bridle hand. Trusting in the
strength and character of his retinue, it his diplomatic
CRICHTON.
301
rank, to his many ripe years, and the supposed ab-
sence of his enemies, he was without armour,
and wore a long black velvet cassock-coat, which was
sufficiently open to show an undershirt of white satin
slashed with red, and secured at the waist by an embroi-
dered baldrick, at which hung a heavy sword and Parmese
dagger, the hilt of which was composed of a single crystal.
His long white hair escaped from under his Scottish
bonnet of black velvet, and floated on the tippet of
miniver which covered his shoulders and was clasped at
the throat by a jewel.
He pointed to the great column of smoke which as-
cended from the chimney of the kitchen-tower, and
laughed while reminding his friends of the good cheer
which awaited after their ride over the hills on a clear
March day; but something less easy of digestion in the
shape of cold iron awaited them ; for at the narrow part
of the road, where it took an abrupt turn, and where, as
already stated, the alderwood grew thickest, there arose
a sudden shout, in front and on both flanks, while a band
of men-at-arms, lanced, horsed, and with closed helmets,
rushed upon them from an ambush.
" Jamais arriere ! a Douglas ! a Douglas ! Revenge
for the Black Dinner ! "
These shouts made all acquainted with whom they had
to deal. Gray, MacLellan, Romanno, and others, shut
down their helmets, and betook them to sword, axe,
and " morning star," as those ponderous maces borne by
knights at their saddle-bows were named.
Two of their unexpected assailants had coronets of
jewels upon their helmets, and all had their coats-of-
arms, but chiefly the terrible Red Heart and three stem's,
painted on their breast-plates. All knew their foes in
302
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
an instant, as heraldry was a science in which every gentle-
man was then well versed.
" To your swords, gentlemen j forward, and break
through this pack of knaves !" exclaimed the old chan-
cellor, tossing his hawk into the air, as he knew it would
wing its way straight home. Then drawing his sword,
he added, " Help yourselves, sirs, and Heaven will help
you!"
There was a tremendous shock in the rough and
narrow pathway, a clashing of swords, and the dull,
dinting crash of iron maces and mauls on steel casques
and shoulder-plates ; several men fell to rise no more, and
many were severely wounded. The chancellor was the
aim of all the Douglases. Gray and MacLellan stood
nobly by his side, yet he received many severe wounds,
till he became almost maddened by pain and the prospect
of a cruel death at the hands of his bitterest enemies.
" Then," says Buchanan, " the Lord Crichton, though
an aged peer, slew the first man who assaulted him,
passed his sword through a second, and leading a charge
of his retinue, broke right through the Douglases ;" but
just as he was sinking with fatigue and loss of blood,
Sir Patrick Gray, by his battle-axe, broke the arm of one
assailant, clove the helmet of another, and drew the chan-
cellor across the saddle of his own charger, a powerful
Clydesdale war-horse, presented to him by the king, and
calling to MacLellan, Lord Glammis, and Romanno, to
" cover his retreat, and keep the foe in check," he galloped
up the steep and winding path which led to the castle,
and deposited his now senseless friend in the arms of his
terrified daughters. Pell-mell up the grassy slope,
fighting every foot of the way, but in full flight, their
friends were now driven by the victorious Douglases, who
CKIUHTON.
303
were more than a hundred strong, till they reached the
chancellor's fortress, when its gates received them, and
then a shot or two skilfully discharged from a culverin
by Gray and Bomanno drove them off, brandishing their
weapons and shaking their mailed hands in token of future
vengeance. Ere they went one opened his helmet and
displaying the dark and swarthy face of the great earl,
exclaimed hoarsely, " Hark ye, my lord chancellor : I have
drawn once more my father's sword, and by St. Mary,
and St. Bryde of Douglas, I will not leave James Stuart
one foot of Scottish ground—nay, not even the moat-hill
of Scone. By our blessed Lord, before whom this relic 01
St. Bryde is holy, I swear it ! so judge what shall become
of thee ! "
And with these terrible words, after kissing an amulet
which hung at his neck, he galloped away, and with his
followers disappeared down Crichton-dean.
In this rough mode did Gray, for the first time, learn
that the Douglases were again in Scotland, and that
Murielle must now have returned.
He had now ample scope for thought, reflection, and
for daring schemes, which he knew noft how to put in
operation.
After this rash escapade, the Earl of Douglas re-
tired to Thrave, in Galloway, and for some time the
chancellor remained in his stronghold, until his wounds
were healed and he could return to court.
By . tins epoch the reader must have begun to perceive
what a pleasant time a Scottish statesman must have had
of it in those old feudal days.
304
the captain of the guard.
CHAPTER XLII.
king james ii.
Oh, men of Scotland, though you cannot raise
Your long past monarchs from the silent bier;
Their deeds are worthy of your highest praise,
And simple gratitude demands a tear.
Let no base slander on their memory fall,
Nor malice of their little faults complain ;
They were such men as, take them all and all,
We ne'er shall look upon their like again!
Written in 1771.
James II. was one of that old race of kings whom the
now forgotten hard, above quoted, called upon posterity
to remember. At this period of our story he had reached
his twenty-first year, but experience had already made
him older. The sole blemish to his very handsome coun-
tenance was that small red spot which won him the
sobriquet of James with the fiery face. He was con-
siderably above the middle height, and was firmly knit
in form ; his eyebrows were strongly marked, and a dark
glossy moustache, curling round his finely cut mouth,
mingled with a short peaked beard. His rich brown hair
hung, in the profusion of the time, over his ears, in thick
masses called " side locks." He was rapid in thought,
bold in speech, and prompt in action, fiery and impetuous
in temper; resolute and even desperate in avenging a
wrong • and of his wild impulsive nature, his most unruly
subject, the Earl of Douglas, was, ere long, to have a ter-
rible proof; but yet, like the Moorish knight of Granada,
James was said to be,
Like steel amid the din of arms,
Like wax when with the fair,
KING JAMES li.
306
Some weeks after the outrage which closes the last
chapter, on a day when the sun of June, by its golden
light and genial heat, was ripening the ysung corn in
many a fertile haugh, and on many a swelling eminence
where now the modern city spreads its streets and squares,
James was seated in one of the upper chambers of David's
Tower, in the Castle of Edinburgh. It was the same in
which King David died on the 7th May, eighty years
before, and in memory of him there still hung above the
fire-place the mail shirt and barrel-shaped helmet which
he had worn at the battle of Durham.
The vaulted apartment was gloomy, and through the
basket-shaped gratings of the windows which faced the
east the rays of the summer sun came slanting in, filling
one portion with strong light, and leaving the other in-
volved in dusky shadow.
Clad in a long scarlet dressing-gown, trimmed witk
miniver, the king was reclining in an armed chair, with
his feet on a velvet tabourette. In his hand, bound in
painted vellum, and elaborately clasped with silver, was
one of those old French metrical romances which had
been translated into Scottish for him by Sir Gilbert the
Haye, who was chamberlain to Charles VII. of France ;
but his thoughts ran not upon its lines, nor the fighting
giants, cunning dwarfs, wandering knights, and castles of
burnished steel which filled its pages; neither was he
attending to the mass of yellow parchments and papers
which the high treasurer, and Lord Glammis, the master
of the household, were arranging for his inspection; nor
was he heeding the occasional remarks of his favourite, the
Captain of the Guard, who, clad in half armour, lounged in
the recess of a window; but the king's face confessed, by the
x
306 THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
sadness of its expression, that his thoughts were at Stir-
ling, where his beautiful young queen—his golden-haired
Mary d'Egmont, of Gueldres—was confined to her
chamber, sick and ill and weary, after the premature
birth of her first foaby, which died two hours after it
came into the world, to the great disappointment of the
king and nation.
The great battle of Sark had been recently fought on
the borders, and there fifty thousand English, led by " the
stoute Earl of Northumberland," had been routed by
less than thirty thousand Scots, with the loss of Sir John
Pennington and Sir Magnus Red Main, two of the most
celebrated soldiers of H-enry VI.; and now, from the
window at which Gray stood in David's Tower, he could
see far down below, where several thousand labourers
were daily and nightly at work, enclosing the capital by
its first walls, with embattled gates upon the south, east,
and west; and, for defence on the north, others were
converting the old royal gardens in the valley into a
sheet of water—the Nor loch of future times; these
protections for the city being among the earliest measures
of the young and politic monarch, " in dread of the evil
and skaith of oure ennemies of England," as he states in
his charter to the citizens, who loved him for his valiant
conduct and fatherly care of them.
" I am well nigh sick of hearing so many petty items,"
said the king, wearily, interrupting Andrew, abbot of
Melrose, the lord high treasurer, a tall, pale-visaged, and
SAArp-eyed man (on whose white head time had long
since marked a permanent tonsure), who had been reading
over several papers for his information ; " yet I suppose I
must hear them : say, lord abbot, how stands our privy
purse V'
KING JAMES II.
307
" I have disbursed to-day to foreign heralds one hun-
dred and fifty pounds," replied the treasurer.
" Heralds ! On what errand 1"
" They came on the part of Henry of England, to
ransom Lord Northumberland's son, who was wounded
and taken prisoner at Sark by Sir Thomas MacLellan;
who had already ransomed him for the value of his horse
and armour," replied the abbot. " Shall I read on ?" The
king nodded, and the abbot proceeded in this manner,
jumbling all kinds of items strangely together. "' Item :
for your highness's new suit of Milan harness 20$.'
6 For eight score and eighteen runlets of wine from a
Fleming of the Dam, to wit, Master Baudoin of Antwerp?
500$.' For silken stuffs, furs, minivers, spices, and
sweetmeats, for the queen's household, paid to John
Vanderberg of Bruges at the fair of Dundee, 800$.'"
" Good, my lord—and the total ?" said the king.
" Maketh 1480$.," replied the treasurer after a pause.
" By St. Andrew ! we shall have but little left to keep
those Douglases in check on the one hand, and those pes-
tilent English on the other, if our household accounts
go thus," said James, with a dubious smile.
"' To your highness's chamberlain in Mar, for driving
all your brood mares from Strathavon to Strathdon, 5sh.'"
resumed the treasurer, reading very fast to avoid inter-
ruption; and then followed innumerable other items, all
written in obsolete Scottish (which, like our dialogues,
we translate), such as twenty-nine weeks' pay to the king's
falconer; to the master gunner of Lochmaben, for stone and
iron cannon balls, and for repairs ; to Sir John Bomanno
for a thousand bowstaves; to Henry, the smith, for dies
for the new coinage ; to the keepers of the balefires along
X 2
308
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
the borders; for garrisons there, and for the hanging of
those who supplied the English with horses or cattle ; to
the driver of the oxen when the ten bombardes of the
wine of Gascony came from Perth for the court's summer
drink '
" And were intercepted by the earl of Douglas, or some
of his reivers, and drunk in Thrave," commented the
king.
" To the hunter of wolves in Stirling Park, for three
wolves' heads laid at the outer gate, 18 pennies, accord-
ing to the act of parliament. This closes the record; but
the monks of Holyrood have sent your majesty a thousand
silver crowns."
"That is well," said the king, who had long since
relinquished his romance in despair; " but the lord abbot
hath twenty-seven parish churches, and might, at this
emergency, have lent me a trifle more."
" Perhaps ; but even with all the altar-offerings, lesser
tithes, pasque presents, and dues for baptism, marriage,
and funerals, there is but little left to give after the
yearly expenses of so great a monastery are paid."
" There spoke a brother abbot, and not a treasurer,"
said the king laughing, while the churchman coloured as
he tied up his rolls with a ribbon. " Laus Deo ! I am
thankful we have come to an end; but we shall need all
the money we can collect, my lord."
" True; for evil tidings are on the wind," said Lord
Glammis, approaching a single pace and pausing.
" Of what—or whom 1" asked James, with a louring eye.
" The Douglases again."
Sir Patrick Gray started from his reverie to listen.
" "What of them now ?" asked the king impatiently.
" Sir Alan Lauder and a man named James Achanna,
KING JAMES Ii.
309
both followers of the earl, have slain a king's vassal within
the Holy Gyrth of Lesmahago."
" Treason ! But that is a mere nothing now," said
James bitterly.
" And worse than treason, for it is sacrilege !" added
the abbot of Melrose, with gathering wrath. " When your
highness's sainted ancestor, King David I., in the pious
times of old, granted that cell unto the monks of Kelso,
he wrote, that 1 whoso escaping peril of life and limb flies
to the said cell, or cometh within the four crosses around
it, in reverence to God and St. Machute, I grant him my
firm peace? "
" And so they violated this holy sanctuary 1" said
James.
"Yes; and hewed the poor man to pieces with their
Jethart axes."
" His offence ? "
"Was wearing the royal livery,—being the gudeman of
your majesty's mills at Carluke."
The king started up, and was about to utter some
hasty speech, when a smart little page, clad in a violet-
coloured doublet, with long hose of white silk, drew back
the tapestry which overhung the arched door, and
announced that the lord chancellor craved an audience
in haste.
" Admit him," said James, advancing a step, as the old
statesman, pale and thin from the effect of his recent
wounds and by the advance of years, entered, propped
upon a long silver-headed staff. " You look grave, my
lord," added the king ; " but I pray you to be seated."
" I have evil tidings," began the chancellor, hobbling
forward and coughing violently.
" The very words of my Lord Glammis," said the king ;
310
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
" can aught else come to the ear of him who wears a
Scottish crown 1" he added, biting his nether lip.
" Say not so, after our late glorious victory at Sark !"
exclaimed the chancellor; " but, nevertheless, I have evil
news," he added, taking from the velvet pouch which hung
at his embroidered girdle several letters, folded square,
and tied with ribbons, in the fashion of the time. " I
have two grave matters to lay before your majesty. We
are more than ever humbled and insulted by this over-
weening earl of Douglas, and, through you, the entire
nation! The king of Scotland," continued the chan-
cellor, warming and striking the floor with his cane, " is
the fountain of Scottish honour, and thus I maintain,
that if the king is insulted so are we; for if a stream
be polluted at its source, every rill that flows from it
becomes so too; but we must end these matters by the
sword—we must wipe out our wrongs in blood, and regild
our tarnished blazons in the reddest that flows in the
veins of our enemies, the men of Douglas-dale and
Galloway!"
" These wild men are yet untamed," said the tall thin
treasurer, shaking his bald head. *
" But not untameable," responded the fiery old chancel-
lor, with a spark of rage in his hollow eyes.
" To the point, my lords, under favour of the king," said
Sir Patrick Gray, gnawing his moustache in his im-
patience.
a ladleful of gold.
311
CHAPTER XLIII.
a ladleful of gold.
Thou shalt not yield to lord nor loon,
Nor shalt thou yield to me ;
But yield thee to the braken bush
That grows on yon litye lee.—Old Ballad.
" What more have I to hear of this false noble and his
followers? " said the king, after briefly, and to Gray's great
annoyance, rehearsing the whole story of the murder of his
vassal, the miller of Carluke, in the sanctuary of Lesmahago.
" The earl has lawlessly seized, and ignominiously
imprisoned, in his hold of Thrave, a good and loyal servant
of your majesty."
" That is nothing new j but what is his name ?" asked
James, grasping the arms of the chair, and thrusting
aside the tabourette with his foot, while his hazel eyes
flashed fire with anger, and his dark brows were knit.
" Sir Thomas MacLellan, of Bombie," replied the chan-
cellor, with grave energy.
" My friend—the Lieutenant of my Guard ! "
" My brave kinsman !"
Such were the exclamations of the king and of Sir
Patrick Gray, who had come from the sunny recess of the
window, and in deep anxiety stood near the chancellor's
chair to listen. In his anger, James snatched from the
table his amber rosary and dagger of mercy, as if about to
utter some vague threat or malediction, and then cast
them from him, though the latter was the gift of his
brother-in-law, Sigismund of Austria, and was hilted by
a single agate.
" Sir Thomas MacLellan, of Bombie," resumed the chan-
312
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
cellor, gravely and earnestly, "your majesty's steward of
Kirkcudbright now a prisoner in the castle of Thrave
manacled with the heaviest chains MacKim, the earl's
smith, can forge, and hourly is menaced with death."
" And wherefore has this been done 1"
" The whole of this new outrage is detailed to me in a
letter from the abbot of Tongland, who has at last—the
pedantic fool! the very dunce !—(excuse me, my lord
abbot of Melrose)—abandoned the earl, his chief, and
has secluded himself in his abbey, despairing, I presume,
of the reformation of Douglas, as of that of the devil
himself, concerning whom he so lately visited Rome."
From the letters of the abbot, the lord chancellor then
proceeded to relate that there were three reasons for this
capture and imprisonment of the Steward of Kirkcud-
bright. The first was, that Sir Thomas, who was chief
of a powerful Celtic tribe, possessing all the peninsula
between the Dee and the Solway, had taken part with
the late Sir Herbert Herries, of Terregles, his kinsman,
against the Douglases, and had thereby excited the ready
wrath of the earl. The second cause of hatred was, that
he had borne a letter from the Captain of the King's
Guard to the Lady Murielle Douglas, and had shot it to
her feet by an arrow, as she was walking near the castle
wall of Thrave. The third, that he had refused to join a
league, and sign a bond for levying war against the king.
For these three causes the earl, taking advantage of Mac-
Lellan being at his own castle of Raeberry, whither he
had retired in consequence of a sword-wound received
from Lord Piercy at the battle of Sark, despatched three
hundred men-at-arms under James Achanna to bring him
dead or alive to Thrave, after sacking and demolishing his
residence.
A LADLEFUL OF GOLD.
313
Achanna marched on this lawless mission ; but true to
his infamous nature, he preferred fraud to force. Raeberry,
of which there now remains but a deep fosse, overhung a
dreadful precipice, on the bluffs of which the united waves
of the Solway Frith and the Atlantic pour their fury. It
was deemed impregnable, and was protected on the north
by a strong rampart, a drawbridge, and a deep trench.
Achanna, aware of these difficulties on one side, and
perils on all the rest, seduced one of the warders—a man
in whom MacLellan trusted most—by promising, that if
he would leave the secret postern open, " for a single hour,
upon a certain night, he should have a ladleful of gold."
The wretch agreed. The wicket was left unbarred,
Achanna and his band rushed in, overpowered the inmates
of Raeberry, and dragged Sir Thomas from bed, severely
wounding his nephew, William MacLellan, a brave boy,
who fought to save him. On finding that he had been
betrayed by his most trusted servant, and to the Doug-
lases. Sir Thomas exclaimed in the bitterness of his
heart,—
" Wretch—oh, wretch! mayest thou live to feel the
despair that wrung the heart of Judas when he flung to
the accursed Jews their thirty pieces of silver."
At these words, the abashed warder shrunk back, but
the hireling Achanna laughed loudly, and ordering his
prisoner to be bound with cords, conveyed him on horse-
back to Thrave, where the imperious Douglas, after loading
him with fetters, insults, and opprobrium, thrust him into
the dungeon.
" All these outrages, to a steward of our stewardry—a
loyal knight and baron—the Lieutenant of our Guard ! "
exclaimed the king, in mingled tones of regret and rage ;
" verily the time has come for me to exchange my crown
314 THE CAPTAIN OP THE GUARD.
either for a helmet, or for the tonsure of a shaven friar.
And this dog of a warder "
" Met with the stipulated reward of his treachery, and
in a manner little to his liking, on presenting himself
next evening at Thrave to receive the promised bribe."
" ' Thou shalt have it, false limmer,—every farthing,—
yea, godspenny and principal,' said Douglas, sternly;
though in a way, I trow, but little to your advantage."
"1 How, my lord ?' asked the trembling wretch.
"' Molten hot, and poured down your dog's-throat, to
warn my warders of Thrave what they may expect if
they so betrayed me, and not to sleep with their doors
unlatched. Away with him to the kitchen, and let this
be his doom !'
"In vain did the wretch shriek for mercy on his bended
knees ; he was dragged to the kitchen of the castle, and
there the commands of the earl were literally and awfully
obeyed. The skimming-ladle of the great pot was filled
with new gold lions (each of which had the image of
St. Andrew on one side, and a lion rampant on the
other); after being molten to a seething mass, they
were poured down the throat of the warder, and in
ten minutes after, his mutilated corpse was flung into
the gallows slot."*
* The metal was molten by the command of Douglas, and poured
down his throat; and thus he received both his reward and punish-
ment at the same time.—" History of Galloway," 1841, vol. i.
the bond.
315
CHAPTER XLIY.
the bond.
Let never man be bold enough to say—
Thus, and no further, shall my passion stray ;
The first crime past compels us into more,
And guilt grows fate, that was but choice before.
Aabon Hill.
The silence of a minute was, perhaps, the most severe
comment which followed this story of more than Oriental
barbarity. Indignation made the fiery young king
almost speechless. He snatched from the table one of
those Beauvais goblets, which were then greatly esteemed
and were mounted with silver-gilt. It was full of water,
and he drank it thirstily.
"My brave kinsman—so young, so faithful, and so
merry !" exclaimed Sir Patrick Gray, with more of grief
than anger in his tone; " I would give my life to save
his; for it must be in imminent peril."
"No such sacrifice will be necessary," said the king;
" we shall write to this daring lord, commanding him at
once, on peril of his allegiance, to yield up Sir Thomas
MacLellan of Bombie to our messenger, and set him forth
of Thrave."
"But who," asked the chancellor, "will be daring
enough to bear such a message into the wilds of Gal-
loway, beyond the land of the Annandale thieves 1"
" That will I, and blithely, too : MacLellan would do
as much for me," replied Sir Patrick, with energy.
" Reflect, my friend; a royal herald were safer," said
the king. "You are the enemy of Douglas in more ways
than one."
316
THE CAPTAIN OP THE GUARD.
" How, your highness 1 I am not wont to reflect much
in time of peril."
" True, Sir Patrick ; but this mission becomes doubly
one of life and death, and of many perils to you; for
loyalty to me is, perhaps, your smallest crime in the eyes'
of Douglas," said the king.
-" Then I have reflected. Douglas shall release my
father's sister's son, or I shall cleave him to the beard in
his own hall! " exclaimed Gray, with a sudden burst of
passion.
" That would not mend the matter much ; and I should
only be in thee but one faithful subject the less, and faithful
subjects are rather scarce at present. Alas ! my valiant
friend, this strong traitor is likely to hang thee like a
faulty hound—even as he hanged the gentle and noble
Herries of Terregles."
" I have given my word to ride on this perilous errand,
and, with your majesty's permission, go I shall," said
Gray, resolutely.
" Good," said the chancellor, striking his long cane on
the oak floor j " a soldier's word is his bond for weal or
woe."
" In the cause of our king and kindred, I will do all
that MacLellan would, were he free. Oh ! your highness,
write at once ; furnish me with due credentials; time in
this is precious, and the waste of it perilous !"
" When shall you depart on this mission 1"
" So soon as I can get my horse and armour; within
an hour, I shall have left these new walls of Edinburgh
many a mile behind me."
" 'Tis well—good service is ever promptly done."
"I am the subject and soldier of your majesty," re-
plied Gray, bowing with modest confidence.
THE BOND.
317
" And a faithful one !" added the king, giving his
hand to his favourite, who was now in his thirty-fifth year,
with a fine martial face, a clear bright eye, and a heart
that was brave as it was tender and true. "But know
you the language of these wild men among whom you
are venturing—thefremit Scots of Galloway ?"
" I know, but little more than our Lowland tongue,
with a smattering of Flemish and French, picked up
when I had mor.e leisure than desire to learn them—the
castle of Bommel; yet I can make a shift to use others,
too, that are more universally known."
"How?"
" I can make love to the women and show my purse
to the men," said Gray, with a gaiety that was half
assumed ; " I'll warrant they will both understand me."
"I fear me, Sir Patrick, you may have to show your sword
more frequently, on a king's errand though you be ; but
within an hour a letter shall be prepared."
" And within that time, with the permission of your
highness, I shall be armed and mounted," said Gray,
bowing low again and retiring in haste.
There was a momentary silence after this, for the
mission on which Gray was departing was one of great
peril to himself. Indeed, as Lord Glammis observed,
" he was the last man in Scotland who should have under-
taken it."
" Chancellor," said the king suddenly, " you spoke of a
bond, or league, as a third cause for the hatred of Douglas
against Sir Thomas MacLellan. "What is this docu-
ment?"
"A matter so formidable, so seriously affecting the
welfare of the realm, and the honour of your crown, that
I know not in what language to approach it; but the
318
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
abbot of Tongland has sent me a copy of the actual
deed."
The manner of Crichton became so grave and earnest
that the king changed colour, and the master of the
household and the abbot of Melrose, who remained silent
and somewhat apart, exchanged glances expressive of
interest and alarm.
" Say on," said James briefly, and striking the floor
with his heel.
" The earl of Douglas, for the aggrandisement of his
power and family, has formed a league offensive and
defensive with the earls of Crawford and Rosse—a league
by which he hopes to bid complete defiance to your
royal authority, and to bring forty thousand men at a
day's notice into the field against it; and to this compact
they have bound themselves by rebellious and sacrilegious
but solemn and terrible oaths, that each shall aid and
assist the others and their friends against the whole
world."
The chancellor then handed to James a duplicate of
this remarkable bond, which was signed and sealed by
Douglas; by Alexander (with the long beard), earl of
Crawford, who was surnamed the Tiger, and was sheriff
of Aberdeen, and bailiff of Scone ; Donald, earl of Rosse
and lord of the Isles; Hugh Douglas, earl of Ormond;
James Dunbar, earl of Murray; Douglas, Lord Balvenie;
James H amilton, lord of Cadzow, and many others of
the highest rank.
On beholding this terrible bond, James felt for a
moment as if the crown which had come to him from a
long line of monarchs was about to be torn from his head.
He grew very pale, then perceiving that the keen and
deeply-set eyes of his stern, faithful, and uncompromising
THE BOND.
319
chancellor were fixed upon him, he rallied his spirits and
said, " This must be crushed in the bud, lest in its bloom
it crush us."
" And to crush it we must first dissemble, and take
these rebels in detail—break the rods separately which
while in a bundle might defy our efforts."
" I must have a personal interview with this daring
earl of Douglas," said the king, "even if I condescend to
ride to Thrave for it. But meanwhile Gray shall bear
to him three documents "
" Three ? " reiterated Crichton, looking up.
"He shall be written to intreating, rather than
demanding, the release of Sir Thomas MacLellan, who
refused to join this infamous league. I shall entrust Gray
with a second missive containing a summons to a confer-
ence, and assuring Douglas of a restoration to favour, and
forgiveness for the past, provided he break this bond, and
as a guarantee "
" Yes—yeS," interrupted the old chancellor, grinding
his almost toothless gums ; "he will require something
of that kind, while the memory of that 23rd of Novem-
ber, 1440, is fresh in Galloway."
" Then as a security the earl shall have a letter of
safe conduct, to and from the castle of Stirling, signed
by our own hand. Let this be seen to at once," and theking,
as if weary of the morning, but in reality crushed and
overwhelmed by its terrible revelations, retired to another
room, muttering as he 'did so, " Oh, my poor father, who
perished by the swords of regicides ! how happier would
I be if seated with you at the feet of God, than on
this throne of Scotland 1"
So thought James II. in 1450 ; how many of his
descendants had better reason to utter the same bitter
320
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
prayer, ere throne, and crown, and sceptre passed away
from them.
Exactly one hour after the king retired, Sir Patrick
Gray, carefully armed and splendidly mounted, departed on
perilous, and—considering the state of the country, the
lack of fords, roads, bridges, and hostelries—distant
journey of ninety old Scottish miles. Over his suit of
mail he wore a surcoat, on which the royal arms were
embroidered to show that he rode on the special service
of the king, and that to molest him involved the penal-
ties of treason.
His departure was viewed with deep interest by the
court and his soldiers. All expressed doubt and pity,
for the unscrupulous character of Douglas inspired all
men with terror, and as he rode off, the old warder at the
castle gate shook his silvery head while saying, " By my
faith, Foulis, ye'll come back faster than ye gang, gif ye
e'er come back ava—but God speed ye the gate, man !"
SIR patrick cray's journey.
321
CHAPTER XLY.
sir patrick gray's journey.
Oh, name the mighty ransom; task my power;
Let there be danger, difficulty, death,
To enhance the price.—Tamerlane.
It may easily be supposed that, with all bis anxiety for
the fate of bis kinsman, Sir Patrick's desire to see, or
be near Murielle, was also near bis beart; and inspired
by tbis double object, be rode rapidly, and tasking the
speed of bis horse, passed through districts the features
of which have long since been changed by time and
cultivation: for rivers that were then broad and deep
Have shrunk to mere rills, and rills have disappeared;
stone bridges have superseded dangerous and subtle
fords, where the luring kelpie lurked for the drowning
wayfarer ; lochs and morasses have become fertile fields;
dense forests, where the wild bull bellowed, and the savage
boar whetted his tusks on the gnarled oak, have been
cleared away ; populous towns have sprung into existence,
where whilom the thatched hamlet stood; churches,
wherein generations had worshipped God in fervour and
holiness, and where Scotland's best and bravest men were
laid under tombs of marble and brass, have been ruined
and desecrated, as if by the hands of sikhs or sepoys; but
hills whereon the mosstrooper drove herd and hirsel, and
where the wild furze and whin grew in luxuriance, have
been rendered arable to their steepest summits, and
fertile, even, as the most fertile parts of Lothian.
By many an old Roman road formed by the warriors
of the adventurous Agricola, and those of the discomfited
emperor Severus—old ways, where the rank grass grew
v
322
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
among the causeway stones, he travelled, and soon reached
the wild heathy uplands of Stobo that look down on the
green vale of the Tweed, and then the steeps of Hells
Cleuch, which are furrowed by a mountain torrent that
rushes red and foaming to join the broader waters of the
Forth. On by the wild morasses of Tweedsmuir, where an
ancient Celtic cross that stood amid the rough obelisks
of a Druid Temple of the Sun, was the only landmark for
that savage and solitary pass, which was overlooked by
the barred and battlemented tower of many a rude moss-
trooping laird.
On—on yet past Moffat, secluded in its lovely vale
amid its almost inaccessible hills, above the dim summits
of which the pale blue mist was floating, and the black
eagles were soaring, past its naked or heathy mountain
gorges, through which the yellow rays of the setting sun
were falling on the moss-covered shealing, and the
browsing herd and hirsel; and on the old square castles
of red sandstone, built with seashell mortar, the abode
of many a turbulent baron.
He was now amid the tremendous scenery of the
Southern Highlands ; and there, after a ride of fifty
miles from Edinburgh, he tarried for the night with the
priest of the village church, as he wanted rest, seclusion,
and secrecy. There, as at one or two other places, he
arranged for a relay of horses, as he knew not what might
be the issue of his expedition; and ere it was over, he
had reason to thank Heaven for his foresight.
Refreshed and newly horsed, he departed next day
with the rising sun, and soon saw the moors of Kirk-
michael and the mossy monolith of the six corpses, where
"Wallace slew Sir Hugh of Moreland and five other
Englishmen; and ere long Dumfries, so red and sombre,
with its spires of St. Michael and of many a convent and
SIR ffAJRICK GRAY'S JOURNEY.
323
friary, rose before him, and with its long bridge of the
thirteenth century—then considered the rival of that of
London—spanning by thirteen carved Gothic arches the
broad blue waters of the lovely Nith, where, between
green and undulating shores, they rolled, glittering in
the sunshine, towards the Solway Firth.
The ruined castle of the false Comyns yet overlooked
the river; and the jangle of the convent-bell at Nun-
holm came and went on the noonday wind.
He advanced along the bridge, the passage of which
was barred by an iron gate and portal of old red sand-
stone. It was quaint and time-worn, having been built
by the Lady Devorgilla, of Galloway, the mother of the
mock-king, John Baliol. Above it were the arms of the
burgh—a chevron with three fimrs-de-lys; St. Michael
winged and trampling on a serpent, with the motto, " a'
at the Lower Burn," the slogan and the muster-place of
the inhabitants. At this gate a toll on corn, merchandise,
and passengers was collected for the benefit of the
Franciscan monastery, which the pious Lady Devorgilla
had founded for the salvation of her soul, and of the souls
of her ancestors and posterity, in the full-flowing Christian
charity of an age which is branded as the dark and
superstitious simply because we know little or nothing
about it. After this gate was passed, and its iron grille had
clanked behind him, the heart of Gray beat faster, for he
was now completely in Galloway—the land of his love
and of his enemies.
The warder or loiterer, who looked across the Nith
from the old castle of Dumfries, saw the flashing of
armour in the noonday sunshine, as our solitary horse-
man rode furiously on, and, from his speed, supposed that
some warden-raid or invasion was at hand; and the old
v 2
324
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
Franciscan who dosed on a seat by the friary wall woke
up from his dreams, and, in dread of either, muttered an
Ave Maria, gratia plena, &c., and dosed off to sleep again.
The peasant on the rigs of Teregles saw him passing
like a whirlwind, and thought, with an angry sigh, that
he might soon have to exchange his blue bonnet and
grey maud for a breast-plate and bourgoinette; for such
speed never betokened an errand of peace, but of tumult
and war.
Evening saw the messenger traversing the uplands of
Tracquair, where the heaths are dark, the rocks are
bleak, and where the black cattle browse in the grassy
haughs ; and past " the Bush " so famed in song; it was
then a thicket of birchen-trees, through which a mounted
trooper could ride unseen, even with his Scottish lance,
six ells long, uplifted at arm's length.
Here, by the side of a lonely bridle-path which crossed
a waste moorland, he found a man lying dead. His
breast was exposed and exhibited a deep spear-wound, in
which a sprig of thorn was inserted, and around which
the last drops of blood had grown black and coagulated
A grey-robed priest was near the body on his knees, en-
gaged in prayer. Gray reined in his horse, and, waiting
until the churchman had ended, said,
" What does this slaughter mean, father?"
It is the thorn-twig," said the monk, with a bewil-
dered air.
" Explain ?" said Gray, impatiently j " I have no time
to read riddles."
" It is the cognisance of the Laird of Pompherston,"
" And what does it mean, now ?"
" Art so dull, or come from such a distance, as not to
know?" asked the monk, throwing back his cowl and
looking up with surprise in his grim and bearded visage.
*IR PATRICK GRAY'S JOURNEY. 325
" I confess that I am."
" "Well, it signifies that this unfortunate, Donaclm
MacKim, the gudeman of Bourick, has been slain by
the Douglases, for having been in arms against them at
Raeberry j so Pompherston took a twig from his helmet
and placed it where you see—in that bloody lance-wound.
And now, sir, for our Blessed Lady's sake, aid me to
convey him to Tracquair, that he may have the rites of a
Christian burial."
" Under favour, good father, that I cannot do, as I
ride for life and death on the king's service," replied
Gray, in a tone of regret.
" A perilous errand here, while the Douglases are all
abroad," replied the monk, shaking his shaven head.
" In arms?" said Gray, starting.
"No—hunting, and they have ridden over all the
countryside, from the Bush aboon Tracquair to the Car-
linwark at Thrave."
The setting of the sun found Gray beyond the waters
of Urr, which he crossed near that mysterious mound
known as the Moat of Urr, and on his left saw the Dub
o' Hass, where many a foreign galliot and Scottish caravel
were at anchor, and the banks of which were then and
for long after, according to local tradition, the haunt of
the Mermaid of Galloway, whose wondrous beauty was
such that no man could behold her without a love that
became madness, and whose hair was like shining gold,
through the links of which her white shoulders and
bosom shone, as she floated on the crystal water, inspiring
men with passion that ended in death.
Her comb was o' the whitely pearl,
Her hand like new-won milk ;
Her breasts were like the snowy curd
In a net o' seaerreen silk.
326
THE CAPTAIN OP THE GUARD.
But, thinking more of armed men than of alluring mer-
maids, Gray rode to where stood a little hostelry, kept
apparently by a vassal of the kirk, as the signboard bore
the papal crown and cross-keys; so he tarried there to
refresh himself and horse again. He was received with
profound respect, but with a curiosity the suppression of
which seemed difficult, as the royal blazon which he wore
upon his surcoat was seldom seen on that side of the Nith,
though the hostelry was established as a halting-place for
the wealthy abbots of Tongland, Newabbey, and the
priors of St. Mary and Lincluden, when passing that way
with their retinues.
The edifice was simply a large thatched cottage, divided
in two by a partition named the hallan ; beyond it was
the principal fireplace, the lintel of which projected far
over the hearth, and was wide enough to show the
row of hams hung there to be smoked, and the iron
bar whereon the kail-pot swung. Within this apart-
ment—for the fireplace was really one—lay a whinstone
seat, called the cat-hud, and a stone bench, the place of
honour for strangers, and thereon Sir Patrick seated him-
self, by the gudeman's request.
Above the mantelpiece hung the black iron morion
and two-handed whinger of the latter—with kirn-cuts of
corn gaily ornamented with ribbons—the trophies of
the last year's harvest home. The floor was of sanded
clay; the ceiling showed the open cabers of the roof;
while a long dresser laden with shining utensils, a few
wooden creepies or stools and meal-arks, formed the fur-
niture of this Scottish hotel of the fifteenth century.
The adjacent Moat of TJrr was alleged to be full of
fairies who danced in the moonlight round its strange
concentric circles ; and they were further said to be great
bibbers of the good wine kept for the use of the before-
Silt PATRICK GRAY'S JOURNEY.
327
mentioned abbots and priors; thus " mine host " of the
papal tiara and keys had always a fair red cross painted
on the ends of his runlets when they were landed at the
Dub o' Hass ; but the green imps nevertheless found a
key to" his cellars, and used gimlets of mortal mould to
draw off the Canary and Alicant.
The gudewife of the house had just increased the
number of King James's subjects and Earl Douglas's
vassals by a male child, when Gray arrived : and near
him, in the ingle, the nurse was administering to it the
ash-sap, with due solemnity, by putting an ash-stick in
the fire of peats and bog-pine that blazed on the hearth,
and receiving in a horn spoon the juice which oozed from
the other end. This was the first food of the newly-
born children of the Gael, and when older they received
their first flesh on the point of their father's sword or
dagger.
With half his armour off, listless and weary, Sir
Patrick Gray sat by the rustic fire on the ingle-seat, and
some time elapsed before he became aware that the eyes
of a stranger, who reclined on an oak settee in a shaded
corner, were fixed with calm but firm scrutiny upon him.
This personage wore a scarlet cloth hood, which was
buttoned from his chin to his breast, having a cape that
covered his back and shoulders. His massive frame,
which was of herculean proportions, was cased in a
doublet of black bull's hide, having the hair smoothly
dressed, and it was tied with a succession of thongs and
little iron skewers. A kilt of coarse tartan, with hose of
untanned deerskin, revealed his sturdy knees, which
seemed strong as oak knots, and hairy as those of a
gorilla. Secured by a square steel buckle, a broad buff
belt encircled his waist, at which hung a double-handed
sword and poniard of mercy. His ssreat brawny hands
S28
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
were crossed upon tlie shaft of a ponderous iron mace,
having a chain and " morning star," and as he rested his
chin thereon, his vast black beard hung over them, while
he surveyed the Captain of the Guard with his wild, keen,
and fierce dark eyes, the natural expression of which,
under their black and shaggy brows, seemed a scowl.
Everything about this man seemed expressive of co-
lossal proportions and brutal strength. As if danger
might not be distant, with an air that in another would
have seemed bravado, but in him was quite natural, he
drew his mighty sword, examined the point, tested the
spring of the blade, and smiled with a grim satisfied air,
as he sheathed it again.
In most of the incidents of our story we have been
compelled to follow and to portray the course of events
with the care of an historian rather than of a romancer;
and thus must we detail, or rather translate, the conver-
sation which ensued between Sir Patrick Gray and this
burly Celtic giant, as it was maintained in a strange
mixture of old Doric Scottish and the Celtic language
then spoken by the inhabitants of Galloway.
" What may the last news be among you here ?" asked
Sir Patrick.
"What could they be but of sorrow?" growled the
other.
" I doubt it not where Earl James abides."
" You are a bold man to say so," replied the Galwegian.
" I am in the king's service, my friend, and a good
cause gives courage; but, beside the storming of Paeberry,
and the lawless capture of Sir Thomas MacLellan, what
is there new in Galloway?"
" The foul slaughter of the laird of Sandwick, whom
the Douglas troopers fell upon in Kirkandrews, and
killed when at his prayers,—and this was yesternight."
SIR PATRICK GRAY'S JOURNEY.
329
" Another act of sacrilege ?"
" Air mhuire! so my lord the abbot of Tongland
terms it; but they were dainty gentlemen who followed
the laird of Glendoning," said the other, with bitter
irony ; " they cared not to stain the floor or altar of God's
consecrated church with blood ; so they dragged old Sand-
wick forth, though he clung to the iron altar-rail, and
drew him to the louping-on-stane at the grave-yard gate,
and there hacked him to pieces."
" It was like these men of Thrave," said Sir Patrick;
"but a day of vengeance for these continued atrocities
must come, and speedily too."
As he said this the host, who was making a posset of
Alicant on the hearth, looked up with terror; but the
strong man with the mace laughed bitterly, and added,
as he struck the floor with his mace,
" Dioul! the sooner the better for me."
" And who are you ?" asked Sir Patrick.
" Would you be a wiser man for knowing?" was the
cautious and not over-courteous response ; " yet I care
not if I tell: I am Malise MacKim, "
" What—Malise, the hereditary smith of Thrave—
MacKim the Brawny ?" exclaimed Gray, with some-
thing of alarm in his tone.
" Yes," said the other through his clenched teeth.
Gray, by a twitch of his belt, brought his dagger con-
veniently to his hand; MacKim saw the movement, and
smiled disdainfully.
" Has the earl wronged you ?" asked Sir Patrick.
" To the heart's core," was the emphatic reply. " Oh,
mhuire as truidh ! mhuire as truidh ! that I should ever
have it to say—I, whose fathers have eaten the bread of
his race for generations—ay, since the first handful of
earth was laid there to form the Moat of Urr—yea, yea,
330
the captain op the guard.
since first the Urr waters ran, and leaves grew in the
wood of Dalbeatie !"
" What has happened 1"
" His people have this day slain my brother Donacha
MacKim, near the Bush aboon Tracquair, and have car-
ried off his daughter, who was the love of my youngest
son; but I have seven—seven sons, each taller and
stronger than myself, and I will have sure vengeance on
Douglas, if he grants it not to me; and this I have sworn
by the cross of St. Cuthbert, and by the soul of her I
love best on earth, my wife Meg."
The black eyes of the gigantic smith glared with
genuine Celtic fury and hate as he said this; he beat the
floor with his roughly-shod feet, and his strong fingers
played nervously with the shaft of his mace, the chain
and morning-star of which (a ball a pound "in weight,
furnished with four sharp iron spikes) lay on the floor.
Gray, as he surveyed him, reflected that it was extremely
fortunate that the smith's fealty to Douglas had been
broken, otherwise he might have proved a very unpleasant
companion for the night in that small and solitary hos-
telry, situated, as it was, in a hostile and lawless district.
This meeting, however, taught Gray to be wary, and
thus, though knowing the country well, he affected to be
a stranger.
" Is the abbot of Tongland at Thrave ? " he asked.
" No ; the earl, in sport, poured a ladleful of gold down
the throat of the Baeberry warder ; so his father con
fessor pronounced a malediction upon him, and retired to
the abbey at Tongland, in disgust and despair at his
cruelty."
" How far is it from hence to the clachan i "
" About ten miles."
i( And to the abbev 1"
SIR PATRICK GRAY'S JOURNEY.
331
" It is beside the clachan." " Good."
During that night Gray slept with his door and win-
dow well secured, with his sword drawn under his head,
and his armour on. a chair by his bedside, to be ready
for any emergency. The lassitude incident to his long
journey on horseback by such rough roads—for then they'
went straight over hill and down valley, through forest,
swamp, and river—made him sleep long and late on his
bed of freshly-pulled heather ; thus the noon of the next
was far advanced before he set out once more.
Malise MacKim, his sullen acquaintance of the pre-
ceding evening, conducted him for some distance beyond
the ITrr, and told him, what Gray already knew well, that
if he wished to reach the clachan of Tongland, he must
pass the Loch of Carlinwark on his right, and pursue the
road that lay through the wood on the left bank of the
Dee.
u And whither go you, my friend ?" he asked, as
the gigantic smith was about to leave him.
'• To join my seven sons, and scheme our vengeance ;
yet what can mortal vengeance avail against the earl of
Douglas ? " r" How ? " said Gray; " in what manner? "
"Know you not that he wears a warlock jacket,
against which the sharpest swords are pointless ?
" What do you mean ?" asked the soldier, keeping his
horse in check.
"I mean a doublet made for him by a warlock in
Glenkens, woven of the skins of water-snakes caught in
a south-running burn where three lairds' lands met, and
woven for him under the beams of a March moon, on the
haunted Moat of TJrr."
Gray laughed and said, " I should like to test this
dagger, my poor MacLellan's gift, upon that same
doublet."
332 THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
*{ Moreover," said the smith, lowering his voice, while
a deeper scowl impressed his grisly visage, " it is said in
Galloway here, that when Earl James, a child, was held
by his godmother at.the font in Tongland Abbey Kirk, the
blessed water, as it fell from the hand of Abbot John,
hissed upon his little face as upon iron in a white heat."
" Peace, carle ! can a stout fellow like thee be moon-
ling enough to give such stories credence 1"
" 'lis folly, perhaps, to think of them, betouch us, too !
so near the Moat of Urr," said the smith, with a percep-
tible shudder, as he glanced covertly over his shoulder.
" And why here more than elsewhere ? "
" Know ye not 1" asked the smith, in a whisper.
"You forget that I am a stranger."
" True. Then it was on this spot that James Achanna,
the earl's sooth fast-friend and henchman, sold himself to
Satan, after conjuring him up by performing some name-
less rites of hell."
" Adieu, and God be wi' you," said Gray, laughing, yet
nevertheless making the sign of the cross, for the place
was savage and solitary, and he was not without a due
share of the superstition incident to his age and country.
Turning his horse, he rode rapidly off.
As he did so, a cunning smile passed over the swarthy
face of Malise MacKim, who swung his mace round his
head as if he were about to brain an enemy.
The day was far advanced, when, at Kelton, Gray
trossed the Dee by a flat-bottomed boat, near a place
where a group of peasants were assembled under a gal-
iows-tree. Thereon hung a man, and there, by paying a
fee to the doomster of Thrave, persons afflicted by wens,
or similar excrescences, came to obtain the benefit of the
deid-strake—a touch of the dead hand being deemed a
certain cure.
an unexpected guide.
333
When Gray saw the poor corse swinging in the wind,
he remembered the fate of Sir Herbert Maxwell, and re-
fleeted how easily Douglas might release Murielle from
her marriage-ties by putting him to death, as he had
done that powerful baron ; yet his heart never trembled,
nor did he swerve from his resolution of attempting to
save MacLellan, in spite of every danger.
CHAPTER XLVI.
an unexpected guide.
And a good evening to my friend Don Carlos.
Some lucky star has led my steps this way :
I was in search of you.—The Spanish Student.
Before Gray crossed the Dee at Kelton, there came
over the scenery a dense white mist, which rolled like
smoke along the hills, and hung in dewdrops on his horse's
mane and bridle, dimming the brightness of his armour and
the embroidery of his surcoat. In this obscurity he lost his
way amid the waste muirlands which the road, a mere bridle-
path destitute of wall or fence, traversed. Then a sharp
shower of hail fell, the stones rattling on his steel trap-
pings as on a latticed window ; and through the openings
in the haze, the far-stretching dells and pastoral hills of
Galloway seemed wet and gray and dreary.
The country was singularly desolate ; he met no person
to direct him ; thus, amid the obscurity of the mist and
the approaching evening, he knew not where he was, but
continued to ride slowly and vaguely on.
Anon a breeze came, and the grey clouds began to
334: THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
disperse j the hail ceased, and the haze rolled away like
finely-carded wool along the sides of the hills. The
setting sun of August beamed forth in his farewell splen-
dour, the mavis and merle chorused merrily in the sauch
and hawthorn trees; for a time the hill-tops became
green, and the high corn that waved on the upland
slopes seemed to brighten with the partial heat and
moisture. After a time, Sir Patrick found that he had
penetrated to the border of Glenkens, then the wildest
and most savage part of Galloway. Wheeling round his
horse, he rode fast in the direction from whence he had
come, and just as the sun's broad disc began to dip
behind the grassy hills, and to shed its warm light upon
the windings of the Dee, from an eminence he could see
afar off the vast square keep of Thrave looming black
and sombre, with the dusky smoke ascending from its
great chimney-stalks into the calm sky in steady columns,
unbroken by the breeze.
Soft was the evening light, and softer now the air,
and no sound but the occasional lowing of the black
cattle, of those nameless country noises which seem to
come from afar, broke the stillness of the vast pastoral
landscape.
The Dee has all the characteristics of a Scottish
stream : now gliding stealthily and sullenly through deep
pools and dark rocky chasms, where the wiry pine, the
crisp-leaved oak, and the feathery silver birch cast their
shadows on the darting trout or the lurking salmon;
now chafing and brawling in white foam over a pre-
cipitous ledge of red sandstone, then gurgling down a
bed of " unnumbered pebbles ; " and now sweeping broad
and stilly past a thatched clachan, a baron's moated
tower, a ruined chapel, where bells were rung and masses
said when Alan was lord of Galloway and constable of
AN UNEXPECTED GUIDE.
335
Scotland ; then round some statelier fane like Ton gland,
© *
or a vast feudal strength like Thrave of the Douglases.
After seeing the latter, Gray rode slowly and thought-
fully, for it brought the face, the form, the voice, the
smile, and all the image of Murielle more vividly before
him. The scenery, the place, the very air, seemed full of
the presence of her, his loved and lost one.
And now the moon arose, but not brilliantly ; it shot
fitful gleams between weird masses of flying cloud, with
a pale and ghastly effect which made the gnarled trunks
of the old trees seem like spectres or fantastic figures.
Erelong, Gray entered a long and narrow glen, clothed
on each side by a thick fir forest, where the density of
the wiry foliage was such that the darkness became quite
opaque.
Here he suddenly found himself joined by a horseman,
who came either from the wayside thicket or out of
the ground—it might have been either, so unexpected
was his appearance. A gleam of the moon, as it came
down a ravine, showed that this man and his horse were
of great strength and stature. He wore a hunting suit,
with a sword, bugle, and small steel cap which glittered
in the moonlight.
" Under favour, I presume, we may travel together ?"
said he, bluntly.
" Provided the road be broad enough," replied Gray in
the same manner, for there was something in this man's
voice which strangely affected him, causing his hair to
bristle up, his pulses to quicken, and the almost ob-
literated wounds on his face to smart.
Whence was this emotion 1 Where had he heard that
voice before 1 Where seen that grim and sturdy figure t
Each looked from time to time at the other, and seemed
anxious to make out who or what ho was
336
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
" Go you far this way ? " asked the stranger.
" No," replied Gray, curtly.
" May I ask how far ?" " I am bound for Throve."
"Indeed," said the other, looking fixedly at Gray, as they
walked their horses side by side ; " have you made a long
journey ?" " From Edinburgh," replied Gray, briefly.
" You are a bold man to pass through the Johnstones
of Annandale and the Borderland at this time."
u How bolder at this time than at any other ?"
" That you may soon learn," replied the stranger,
laughing at Gray's tone of displeasure.
" I am Sir Patrick Gray of Foulis, captain of the
king's guard, and am bound to ride wherever he may
order, and woe to those who dare obstruct me," said
Gray, peering forward to discern the speaker, who
started visibly at this reply, and after the silence of a
moment said, " I too am bound for Thrave. For two
days past I have been abroad hunting, but have missed
or outridden my friends. Well, what may the news be
from the good town of Edinburgh ? and how fare the
king, his carpet knights, and cock-sparrow courtiers,
eh ?"
"Were I not riding on the king's errand, which makes
my life more precious than if I were riding on my own,
I would find you a more fitting reply than words," said
Gray, who could scarcely repress his rising wrath, for the
tone of the other chafed him.
" You have chosen a perilous time, assuredly, to enter
Galloway on the king's service," observed the stranger,
loftily; " and if ray words displease, I can give full
reparation when your errand is sped."
" 'Tis enough, sir," said Gray, hoarsely; " on the
morrow I shall have sui*e vengeance. No man shall
slight the king in m.y presence, and live."
AN UNEXPECTED GUIDE.
337
" By my sooth, his last messenger—the Rothsay
herald, who came hither anent the laird of Teregles—left
Galloway faster than he entered it. We are about to
teach this James Stuart, that the realm of Scotland was
not made for his especial use. What ? after fighting for
centuries, and defeating Romans, Saxons, Danes, and
Normans—in short, all the invaders of England—we are
now to tremble before this boy-king and his little Guel-
drian wife ? Has he forgotten how his father died ?"
" How—what mean you 1" asked Gray, making a
vigorous effort to control his passion.
" In the Black Friary at Perth," said the other, grinding
his teeth, "with the swords of Grahame and Athole
clashing in his heart."
" Be assured our king has not forgotten it—but hush—
be wary."
"And wherefore hush ?" was the fierce response.
" Because they who did that deed, the most foul
murder of God's anointed king, perished miserably on
the scaffold more than twenty years ago. Their ashes-
have long since mingled with the earth, for fire consumed
and the wind of heaven scattered them; but their names
exist in the execration of all good men and true."
" Hard words," said the other, scoffingly ; "hard words,
sir, for us, who are on the eve, perhaps, of a most just
rebellion against his son, if he and his Flemish princess,
with that old fox, Crichton, push us too severely; and
then I think his dainty Falkland knights, and well-fed
Lothian infantry, may find it perilous work to march
through Nithsdale and penetrate among the wild hills of
Galloway."
Gray did not answer; they had now emerged from the
wood, and the Loch of Carlinwark was shining like a
338
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
mirror in the full splendour of the moonlight. At some
distance he could discern the three old thorn-trees, where,
oR a similarly calm and lovely moonlit night, he had first
plighted love, life, and hope, to Murielle ; and now, as
then, he could see Thrave, her home and her prison,
casting its long black shadows on the Dee.
" Here is Thrave," said the stranger, reining up his
powerful horse beside the barbican-gate.
" And you, sir ? "
" I am James, earl of Douglas," replied the other,
sternly and loftily; you are on the king's errand, Sir
Patrick Gray—'tis well; I bid you welcome ; but re-
member, save for that tabard which you wear, by the
bones of St. Bryde, I would hang you by the neck from
that stone knob above the gate !"
Gray bowed and smiled bitterly, as they rode into the
court-yard, and he found himself inclosed by the gates
and surrounded by the followers of his mortal enemy.
He had shuddered on passing under the barbican-gate,
for a man was hanging at the gallows-knob above it.
Gray knew the dread custom there—that each culprit or
victim was replaced by another, and he knew not who
the next " tassel" might be.
The night-wind lifted the dead man's hair at times as
the body swung mournfully to and fro. Beneath this
ghastly object, in the blaze of the torches which were up-
held by a crowd of liveried serving-men and savage-
looking kilted Galwegians, there shone a great shield of
uarved and painted stone. It bore the arms of the ancient
lords of Galloway—azure a lion rampant, curgent crowned
with an imperial diadem, impaled with the countless
quarterings of the Douglases.
The moon was waning now; but the number of torches
AN UNEXPECTED GUIDE.
339
as they flared on the walls and grated windows of the
vast keep, made the court-yard seem light as if the night
was noon.
As Gray dismounted, a familiar voice reached his ear,
saying, " Thanks, brave friend and kinsman—you have
perilled much to save me !"
c: Thou art right, MacLellan—I come by the king's
orders, so take courage !" replied Gray, looking about
him ; but from which of the black gratings of that lofty
edifice the voice came his eye failed to discover.
A cruel smile passed over the grim face of the earl, as
he said, " Sir Patrick Gray, it is ill speaking between a
full man and a fasting ; so get you to bed for to-night;
after breakfast to-morrow, we will consider your errand
from the king j and you have my knightly word for your
safety while within the walls of Thrave."
" And how, when I leave them, my lord 1"
" That is as may be," said the other, turning on his
heel.
With these dubious, or rather ominous words, the
earl retired, and within an hour, Gray, after partaking of
some refreshment alone, found himself lying on a couch
with his armour on and his drawn sword by his side,
endeavouring to court sleep, with his mind full of the
terrible novelty of his situation; and not without a sense
of charm, for he knew that Murielle was near him, and
that the same roof covered them both.
On a tabourette by the bedside were placed a night-
lamp, a cup of sack posset, and the earl of Douglas's
dagger as a symbol of peace and protection—that he had
armed his unwelcome guest against even his own house-
hold j for such was the custom of the age and country,
z 2
340
the captain of the guard.
CHAPTER XLYII.
husband and wife.
First rose a star out owre the hill,
And next the lovelier moon ;
While the bonnie bride o' Galloway
Looked for her blythe bridegroom ;
Lythlie she sang as the new moon rose,
Blythe as a young bride may,
When the new moon lights her lamp o' love,
And blinks the bride away.—Cromer.
Sir Patrick Gray sprang from a couch, where dreams^
rather than sleep, had pressed thick and fast upon him.
He rose while yet the summer sun was below the green
Galloway hills, and while the dark waters of the Dee
were veiled by the white mists of the early morning.
His mind was full of Murielle, and he was not without
hope, that while all the numerous household and pow-
erful feudal garrison were yet abed, he might find some
means to communicate with her—to see, to speak to one
so beloved—one from whom he had been so long, so
wickedly separated—his seven years' wedded wife !
It seemed to Gray, while thinking of this, that some
one had been softly and timidly tapping at his door.
Gently drawing back the numerous bars of wood and iron,
with which the doors of all bed-chambers in old Scottish
mansions were furnished in those days and for long after,
he stepped into an arched corridor; then, on looking
along its dusky vista, he saw a female figure approach,
and what were his emotions on beholding the sudden
realization of his dearest wish—Murielle, who had left he
room thus eaidy on the same errand and with the same
desperate yet tenderly loving hope, had been watching
the door of his chamber.
HUSBAND AND WIFE.
341
She seemed pale and wan, as one who had been sleep-
less ; but though more womanly and more full in figure,
she was otherwise unchanged as when he had seen her
last, on that happy and yet unfortunate night, in the
church of St Genevieve, in Flanders.
"•At last, my Murielle !"
" At last we meet—but oh ! for a moment only."
They clasped each other in a tender embrace—heart to
heart, and lip to lip. His face was bent on hers, and her
tears of joy and fear fell fast.
"You love me still, Murielle? "
"Still /" she reiterated reproachfully—"oh, with all my
life and strength."
" But to what a hopeless love and aimless life have my
passion and its selfish ties consigned you ! " said he; " we
are the slaves of others and of destiny."
" Such have we ever been, since that fatal day on which
my cousins, William and David, were slain. That was
in 1440, ten long, long years ago ; but "
" A crisis in our fate is coming now, dear Murielle."
" But say why—oh, why are you here—here in Thrave,
here, where your life is in peril so deadly ?"
" I am come, in our good king's name, to demand Mac-
Lellan's release, and to invite the earl, under cartel, to
meet the council at Stirling, that all these evils may be
peacefully ended."
" I pray to the kind Father of all, and to his Blessed
Mother, who is in heaven, that it may be so," sighed
poor Murielle. " But oh, I am so weary, weary—so sad
and weary here ! They keep me quite a prisoner, though
not so cruelly as they keep Sir Thomas MacLellan ; for
I am told by Marion Douglas that he is confined in
the pit."
" Mahoun ! say you so, dearest—in that horrid vault ?'
342
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
"Yes • but hush—we may be overheard."
" Ah ! my brave and • noble kinsman—such a doom !
Was it not in that dungeon that Earl Archibald, the first
duke of Touraine, kept MacLellan, the laird of Borgue,
chained, like a wild beast, till he became a jabbering
idiot, and when found by the prior of St. Mary's Isle, he
was laughing as he strove to catch the single sunbeam
that fell through the grated slit into his prison—yea,
striving fatuously to catch it with his thin, wan, fettered
hand—the same hand that carried the king's banner at
the battle of Homildon ! "
" Do not frown thus, my dearest heart," said Murielle,
weeping ; " I have little need to add to the hatred that
grows apace in every breast against the name of Douglas."
"Do not say in every breast, sweet Murielle—sweet
wife," he added, pressing her close and closer still in his
embrace ; " for my heart is wrung with anguish and with
love for you, and of this love God alone knoweth the depth
and the strength ! "
Murielle continued to weep in silence.
" My love for you," resumed Gray, " and my duty
to the king, whom my father, old Sir Andrew Gray,
taught me to love, respect, and almost worship, are im-
pulses that rend my heart between them. At the risk of
my life I have ridden here on the king's service, alone,
with no protection but my sword, my hand, and, it may
be, this royal tabard—a badge but little respected on this
side of the Nith or Annan."
" And you came a
" To see you, and to save MacLellan from the fate of
Sir Herbert Herries. God wot, though, I would give
the last drop of my blood to serve my kinsman. A king's
herald might have borne the mandate as well as I; but
the hope of seeing you—of hearing your dear voice, of
HUSBAND AND WIFE.
343
concerting some plan for your escape and future freedom
from a tyranny that is maddening,—chiefly, if not alone,
brought me into the wilds of Galloway—the very land
and stronghold of the enemies of the throne."
" Say not the enemies," said Murielle mournfully. " I
hope that men misjudge us sorely."
"I hope they do; yet there are strange whispers
abroad of a rebel" league with the earls of Ross and
Crawford, with Henry of England, and the lord of the
Isles—a league to dethrone the king and plunge the
land in ruin. But let us speak at present of escape—of
flight- "
" My disappearance would be your destruction; all
Galloway, with hound and horn, would be upon your
track."
" True—Douglas gave me his word for safety only
while within the walls of Thrave," said Gray, bitterly.
" The most sunny summer-day may have its clouds,
dear Patrick; but here, in this dull residence, with me
it is ever cloud, and never sunshine—I mean the sun-
shine of the heart. My time is passed, as it were, in.
perpetual winter. I have no solace—no friend—no
amusement, but my cithern and the songs you loved so
well "
" And love still, Murielle, for the sake of you ! "
"So cheerlessly I live on without hope or aim, a
wedded nun, amid councils of fierce and stern men,
whose meetings, debates, and thoughts are all for oppo-
sition, and revenge for the terrible deed of 1440."
"In. other words, Murielle, men who are ripe for
treason and rebellion."
" Why will you speak or think so harshly of us ? " she
asked so imploringly that Gray kissed her tenderly as his
only or best renlv.
344
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
" And that spiteful beauty your sister—what says she
of me now ? " " That you are the king's liege man,"
was the cautious answer.
" She is right, my beloved one—I am his till death "
" And our enemy !" said a sharp voice close by them,
like the hiss of a snake.
They turned and saw Margaret, the countess of
Douglas, standing at the entrance of her bower-chamber,
the tapestry covering the door of which she held back
with one hand. She was clad entirely in black, with a
long veil of fine lace depending from the apex of her
lofty head-dress, enveloping her haughty head and hand-
some white shoulders. She was somewhat changed since
Gray had seen her last, for angry passions were lining
her young face prematurely; . her marvellous beauty
remained in all its striking power; but it was the beauty
of a devil—diavolessa, an Italian would term it. Ten
years of feud and anxious hostility to the crown and its
adherents had imparted a sternness to her fine brow, a
keen boldness to her black eyes, and a sneering scorn
to her lovely lip that made her seem a tragedy queen.
" And so another errand than the king's message, anent
his minion's life or death, has brought you hither, scurvy
patch ! " said she scornfully; " but by St. Bryde I shall
rid our house and my sister of such intrusive visitors!"
"Madame," Gray began, with anger.
" Yarlet—would you dare to threaten me ?" she
exclaimed, holding up a clenched hand, which was white,
small, and singularly beautiful; " but, my gay moth, you
will flutter about that poor candle until your wings are
burnt. I have but to say one word to Douglas of this
clandestine meeting and he will hang you in your boots
and tabard above our gate, where Herbert of Teregles
and many a better man has hung."
husband and wife.
345
" Oh, sister Margaret," urged Murielle, trembling like
an aspen-leaf.
" Ha—to speak that word would remove the only
harrier to your being duchess of Albany—and why should
I not speak it ?" she continued fiercely and with flashing
eyes ; " Why should I not speak it ?"
" Because, dear Maggie, you have still some gentle
mercy left, and Heaven forbids you," said Murielle, cling-
ing to her pitiless sister.
" Begone, madam,", said the latter imperiously ; "your
instant obedience alone purchases my silence. But here
comes Sir Alan Lauder."
So ended abruptly, as at the abbot's house in
Edinburgh, this unexpected meeting. Terror for her
lover-husband's life made Murielle withdraw instantly
with her sister, just as Sir Alan Lauder of the Bass, who
was still captain and governor of Thrave, approached
with an undisguised sneer on his lips to say that the earl
would receive Sir Patrick Gray at breakfast, in his own
chamber, and there give his answer to the king's message.
CHAPTER XLVIII.
douglas and gray.
And darest thou, then,
To beard the lion in his den,
The Douglas in his hall ?—Scott.
Clad in a robe of fine scarlet cloth, which was lined
with white fur, and fastened by a brooch or jewel at the
neck, and which was open just enough to show an under-
shirt a~d long hose of buff-coloured silk, the earl of
PcirLi : was seated in a hisrli-backed easy-chair, which
346
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
was covered with crimson taffety. His feet were placed
on a tabourette, and close by, with his long sharp nose
resting on his outstretched paws, crouched Souyllard,
the snow-white bloodhound, uttering deep growls from
time to time.
Breakfast, which consisted of cold beef, partridge-pie,
flour cakes, wheaten bread, honey, ale, and wine, was
spread upon the table, which, like the rest of the carved
oak furniture, and like the castle itself, seemed strong
enough to last twenty generations of Douglases. The
equipage was entirely composed of the beautiful pottery
of Avignon, which was all of a dark-brown metallic
tint, like tortoise-shell, but perforated and in relief.
At the earl's hand, in the old Scottish fashion, stood a
flat-shaped pilgrim-bottle of usquebaugh. It was from
Beauvais, and bore a Scots lion, with the three Jleurs-de-
lys, and the name of Charle Boy VII., for it was a per-
sonal gift from the then reigning monarch of France to
Douglas, when last at his hunting-castle in the wood of
Yincennes.
A painted casement, one half of which stood open,
admitted the warm rays of the summer sun through
the deep embrasure of the enormously thick castle-wall,
and afforded a glimpse without of the far-stretching
landscape and the windings of the Dee, and, nearer
still, the green islet it formed around Thrave, on the
grassy sward of which some noisy urchins and pages
belonging to the feudal garrison were gambolling, play-
ing at leapfrog, and launching stones and mimic spears
at an old battered quintain, or carved figure of an armed
man, which stood there for the use of those who prac-
tised tilting.
As Gray entered in his armour, with his surcoat' on and
his helmet open, readier for departure than a repast, the
DOUGXiAS AND GRAY.
34?
earl, without rising or offering his hand, bowed with;
cold courtesy, with a sardonic smile on his white lip
and hatred in his deep-set eyes. He made a signal to a
page who was in attendance to withdraw, and they were
immediately left together. " I said last night that it
was ill speaking between a full man and a fasting," said
he ; " we are both fasting this morning,, so, Sir Patrick,
let us eat, drink, and then to business."
As they were both anxious to come to the point at
issue, after a few morsels of food and a draught of spiced
ale, the grim earl spoke again :—
" I have read the king's letters—that anent the laird
of Bombie, and that which invites me to a conference at
Stirling, with a safe conduct to me and all my followers.
By my faith, Sir Patrick, I think their number, in horse,
foot, and archers, will be their best safe conduct. The
first letter demands "
" The release, the instant release of my kinsman, Sir
Thomas MacLellan, of Bombie, and of that ilk, steward
of Kirkcudbright, whom you unlawfully and most un-
worthily detain here a prisoner," said Gray, whom the
cool and insolent bearing of Douglas exasperated beyond
the point of prudence. " What if I refuse, asked the
latter with an icy smile.
" That the king and council will consider."
" What if he be dead ?"
" He is not dead," exclaimed Gray with growing excite-
rnent; " last night I heard his voice, for he addressed
me as we entered the barbican."
" Ha !" said Douglas sharply, with a furious glance.
" But dead or alive, lord earl, in the king's name I de-
mand his body !"
" That shall I grant you readily," replied Douglas
grimly, as he blew on a silver whistle which lay on the
348
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
table. The arras of the doorway was raised, and there
reappeared the page, to whom the earl gave a ring,
which he drew from his finger, and said, " Tell James
Achanna to lead forth the laird of Bombie from the
vault, and to obey my orders."
The page bowed and retired; and he observed, if
Gray did not, the terribly sinister expression which at
that moment filled the earl's eyes.
" You said lead forth, my lord; hence my kinsman
lives, and I thank you," said Gray with more composure.
" Some men die between the night and morning, others
between the morning and the night;—but now about
this conference at Stirling : what boon does the king hold
out as an inducement for a Douglas to risk so much as
an acceptance of royal hospitality ? "
" Boon, my lord 1"
" By St. Bryde, I spoke plainly enough !"
" 'Twas said the restoration to you of the office of
Warden of the Marches towards England, the seat at
the Privy Council, and the commission of Lieutenant-
General of the Kingdom."
" In short, all of which I was unjustly deprived, by
Crichton's influence, during my absence in France and
Italy," said the earl, removing the breast from a partridge.
Gray did not reply, for at that moment the castle
bell was tolled slowly, and a strange foreboding seized
him. " With the recollection of the Black Dinner of
1440 before me, by the Devil's mass! I would require some
great boon to tempt me, assuredly," said the earl, with
a laugh which had something diabolical in its sound.
" My lord, there will be the king's safe conduct."
" King's memories are precarious. Since the day of
the bloody banquet at which my kinsman perished, I have
been, as it were, a man of granite in a shirt of steel—im-
DOUGLAS AND GRAY.
349
moveable, implacable—and feeling no sentiment but the
longing for revenge ! "
The earl, with a sparkling eye and a flushing cheek,
spoke as feelingly as if he had Tiot had a secret hand in
the execution of his nephews, nor won anything by it.
" King James," he added, " has yet to learn what a ten
years' hatred is !"
" Ten years ? " reiterated Gray, as he thought of
Murielle.
" Ten years—we are in the year 1450, and for the ten
which have preceded it, my armour has scarcely ever been
off," said the earl; " and even in my own hall the sword
and dagger have never been from my side."
" For the same reason, my lord, you have kept other
men's armour on, and others' weapons on the grind-
stone," replied Gray ; " but endeavour to be as good and
loyal as your fathers were, earl of Douglas—renounce
your evil leagues, and bonds for rebellion, else you may
find the king alike more wise and powerful than you
imagine."
" I seek not advice from you, laird of Foulis," said
Douglas, with proud disdain. " Within sound of the
bells of Holyrood, or those of St. Giles, your king may
be both powerful and wise; but on this side the Moat of
Urr, I have my doubts of his power or wisdom."
" How, my lord ?"
" He would scarcely be wise to venture into the wilds
of Galloway, even with all the forces he and that fangless
wolf, his chancellor, may collect; and never powerful
enough to do so, with the hope of success." " Daring
words, when said of one who is king of all Scotland."
" But I am lord of all Galloway, and I shall uphold its
ancient rights and laws in battle, as stoutly as Earl Archi-
bald did in Parliament."
350
THE CAPTAIN OP THE GUARD.
" An old story, my lord," said Gray,, rising.
" True; in the days of Robert II.," added Douglas,
rising also.
" In 1385," observed Gray, with a scarcely perceptible
smile.
" I forget." " Though you forget many things, my
lord," said Gray, rashly and impetuously, " do not imagine
that you or they are forgotten."
" Does this imply a threat, my cock-laird of the north
■country 1" asked Douglas, with profound disdain.
" As you please—I am a plain soldier."
A ferocious expression darkened the eaiTs face; but
-Gray drew back a pace, and laid a hand significantly on
his tabard.
" Sir Patrick Gray, I advise you to get your horse and
begone ! " thundered Douglas, starting to his feet.
" Without there ! Order Sir Patrick's horse to the barbi-
can-gate !"
" But your answer to the king 1" said Gray, tightenirg
his waistbelt, and preparing for a sudden start.
" That I shall convey in person to Stirling."
" And my kinsman "
" Dead or alive ?" said Douglas, with a sullen glare in
his eye. Alarmed by the expression of the earl's face,
Gray said earnestly :—
" Lest you might not obey the king's commands, proud
lord, or might scoff at my humble request, I bring you a
mother's prayer for her son."
"A mother's ?" said Douglas, pausing as they descended
the staircase together.
" The prayer of my father's sister, Marion Gray, for h'er
ison's release." " It comes too late," muttered the earl
under his black moustache, as they issued into the sunny
courtyard of Thrave.
the fate of maclellan.
CHAPTER XLIX.
the" fate of maclellan.
Lift not the shroud! a speaking staia
Of blood upon its sable seen,
Tells how the spirit fled from plain,
For there the headsman's axe hath been'.
Ballad.
" The king's demand shall he granted, but rather for
your sake—come hither," said the earl.
There was a cruel banter in his manner, a bitter smile
on his face, and Gray grew pale, and felt the blood rush
back upon his heart with a terrible foreboding as they
crossed the courtyard.
Then his eye at once detected something like a human
form stretched at full length upon the ground, and covered
by a sheet. About it there could be no doubt—it was so
cold, white, angular, and fearfully rigid. Upon the breast
was placed a platter filled with salt—a Scottish supersti-
tion as old as the days of Turpin—and close by lay an
axe and bloodstained billet, about which the brown "spar-
rows were hopping and twittering in the warm morning
sunshine. With a choking sensation in his throat, Gray
stepped resolutely forward.
" Remove this cloth," said the earl to some of his
people who were near; and on their doing so, there was
seen the body of a headless man—a body which Gray
knew too well to be that of his friend and kinsman, for
on the breast of the soiled and faded pourpoint was
embroidered a gold scutcheon, with the three black
chevrons of MacLellan.
" Sir Patrick, you have come a little too late," said the
352
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARE.
sneering earl; " here lies your father's sister's son ; but,
unfortunately, he wants the head, and a head is an
awkward loss. The body, however, is completely at your
service."
Grief and indignation almost choked Gray's utterance.
He knelt down and kissed the cold right hand, which yet
bore the mark of an iron fetter, and then turning to the
earl, said, " My lord, you may now dispose of the body
as you please ; but the head "
" Behold it on the battlement above you ! " *
Gray mounted his horse, which was at that moment
led to the outer gate by the earl's grooms; and mistrusting
them, though feeling as one in a terrible dream, before
putting his foot in the stirrup he carefully examined his
bridle, girths, and crupper. Then, says Sir Walter Scott
in his history, " his resentment broke forth in spite of the
dangerous situation in which he was placed": —
" My lord," said he, shaking his gauntleted hand close
to the earl's beard, " if I live you shall bitterly pay for
this day's work; and I—Patrick Gray of Poulis—tell
thee, that thou art a bloodthirsty coward—a disgrace to
knighthood and nobility !"
He then wheeled round his horse, pressed the sharp
Bippon spurs into its flanks, and galloped off
"To horse and chase him !" cried the earl, furiously.
" I will ride to Stirling, false minion, with your head at
my saddle-bow! To horse and follow him—this venture-
some knight musr sleep beside his kinsman !"
* One account states that the body of MacLellan was interred
in the church of Kirkconnel, and some old inscription is quoted in
proof; another, that he was conveyed to the abbey church of
Dundrennan, where a monument was erected to his memory; but
It is much more probable that he would be interred in the church
of Kirkcudbright.
TIIE FATE OF MACLELLAN.
353
" But he came on the king's service," urged Sir Alan
Lauder, as he put his foot in the stirrup of his horse,
when some twenty or thirty mounted mosstroopers came
hurriedly from the stable court.
" Bah! love-lured and destiny dragged him hither.
Let slip Souyllard the sleuth-bratch. Horse and spear,
I say, Lauder and Achanna—a hundred crowns for the
head of yonder minion ! I swear by St. Bryde of Douglas
and Kildara, by the Blessed Yirgin and her son, never
to eat at a table, sleep in a bed, to rest under a Christian
roof, or to lay aside sword and armour, till I have passed
my dagger through the heart of Patrick Gray, dead or
alive!" " If you break this terrible vow," said Sir Alan,
aghast at the earl's fury, and the form it took in words.
" Then I pray Heaven, at the judgment day, to show
such mercy to me as I shall show my enemies," was the
fierce response.
It was fortunate for the earl that he soon found a friar
to release him from a vow, the fulfilment of which must
have entailed a vast deal of trouble, fuss, and discomfort
upon him and his followers.
" A hundred crowns and St. Bryde for Douglas S" was
the shout of the mosstroopers, as they dashed through the
outer gate, and with their light active horses, their steel
caps, jacks, and spears, they clattered over the drawbridge ;
but Gray, after escaping six or eight crossbow bolts, was
already three miles before them, and spurring in hot haste
along the road towards Dumfries.
It was a fortunate circumstance for him that he was
well mounted on a fleet, strong, and active horse; for he
was a muscular man, and heavily mailed, while his pur-
suers. being Border Prickers, wore but little armour, and
their wirv nags were used to scamper on toravs in all
2 A
354
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
weathers and seasons by day and night, over moor, and
moss, and mountain sides.
Gray knew well that if taken his death was certain ;
for Douglas, reckless, ruthless, and bloodthirsty, by nature,
was certain now to give full scope to his long-treasured
hatred.
He no longer heard the whooping of his pursuers; he
had either distanced them, or they were husbanding their
energies for a long chase; but there came after him at
times, upon the hollow wind, the grunting bark of the
sleuth-bratch, by which he was surely and savagely
tracked, Souyllard, the earl's favourite white blood-
hound, and the heart of the fugitive swelled anew, with
grief and rage, and hatred of his unrelenting tormentor.
He was far from shelter or succour, for until he reached
the Lothians, all the land belonged to his enemies, or to
those who dared not protect him. For miles and miles
before him stretched flattened hills and open plains
covered with waving heather, the purple tints of which
were glowing in the noonday sun, and these tints deep-
ened into blue or black on the shaded sides of the glens.
The whirr of the blackcock was heard at times, as it rose
from the pale green or withered yellow leaves of the ferns
that grew among the rushes, where the trouting burr
brawled, or by the lonely ravine, the red-scaured bank, or
stony gulley, which Gray made his foam-covered horse
clear by a flying leap.
Louder and nearer came the savage bay of the sleutch-
bratch, and Gray, as he looked back, could see it tracking
him closely and surely; while about three miles distant
the border spears of his pursuers glittered on the summit
of a hill.
He had swam his horse through the TTrr and spurred
on for miles, and now before him lay Lochrutton, with
THE FATE OF MACLELLAN.
3 DO
its old peel-house, named, from its loneliness, the castle-
of-the-hills ; then, as he was about to cross a foaming
tributary of the loch—a stream that tore, all red and
muddy, through a stony ravine—the bounding sleuth-
bratcli came upon him, and sprang at his horse's flanks,
just as the terrified animal rose into the air to cross by a
flying leap.
Clenching his gauntleted hand, Gray struck the fierce
brute on the head, and it fell into the rushing torrent;
but gained the other side as soon as he, and sent its deep,
hoarse bay into the air, as if to summon the pursuers.
Now, the terrible sleuth-bratch was running parallel with
his horse's flanks, and vainly he strove to strike at it with
his sword. His temples throbbed as if with fever, and
now, for air, for coolness, and relief, he drew off his
barred helmet; then he tossed it into a bush, for the
double purpose of staying the hound and concealing it as
a trace of his flight. Spurring on—he redoubled his
efforts to escape ; he called to his horse—he cheered and
caressed it, while the perspiration of toil oozed through
the joints of his armour, from his gorget to his spurs.
The terrible white hound was preparing for a final, and,
doubtless, a fatal spring, when a man, whose head and
shoulders were enveloped in a scarlet hood, suddenly rose
from the whin bushes amid which Gray was galloping,
and, by a single blow from his ponderous mace, dashed
out the brains of the dog, killing it on the spot.
Gray had just time to perceive that his preserver was
Malise MacKim, the smith of Thrave, when he passed
on like a whirlwind ; and now he saw before him, in the
distance, the lovely and far-stretching valley of the Nith,
the long bridge, the red-walled town, the spires, and the
old castle of Dumfries. He dashed through*the portal of
9 A 2
356 THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUAKD.
the bridge, and pushed on by the way for Edinburgh ;
but, owing to the rough and devious nature of the road3,
night overtook him among the wilds of Tweedmuir. If
he drew bridle for a moment, he still heard the tramp of
hoofs in his rear, for now fresh horsemen had joined in
the pursuit; and, but for the relays he had so wisely pro-
vided, and of which he only once availed himself, he had
assuredly been taken and slain.
At Moffat, he obtained his own favourite horse from
the priest of the village church.
" Will you not, for safety, have your charger's shoes
reversed ?" said the churchman, as Gray mounted.
" Like King Robert of old ; but there is no snow to
reveal the track."
" But there is mud, and the ways are deep and soft."
" True ; but who is here to do it for me ?"
" The smith at the forge."
" Nay, nay, good father," said Gray, shortening his
reins; " hear you that!" a whoop and a bugle blast,
came together on the night breeze ; " I must even trust
me to my good Brechin blade and Clydesdale nag; for
both are our good king's gift," and he set forth with
renewed speed.
He had good reason for declining to loiter, for just as
he rode off, the mountain pass, which opens into the
valley, rang with shouts and the rush of many iron hoofs,
as the laird of Hawkshaw and the Hunters of Palmood,
with Sir Alan Lauder and a band of Douglas moss-
troopers, came galloping down.
On, on, rushed the fleet horse, with its small head
outstretched, and cutting the night air, as the prow of a
ship cleaves the water. The taper ears lay flat on its
neck, the mane streamed behind like smoke from a funnel,
and the quivering nostrils shot forth white puffs of steamy
will he escape ?
357
breath at every bound; while foam and blood mingled
together on its flanks, as the sharp Rippon spurs of the
daring rider urged it fast and furiously on.
This flight of Sir Patrick Gray from Thrave suggested
to Scott the escape of Marmion from the future chief of
the Douglases— the earl of Angus, at Tantallan.
CHAPTER L.
will he escape 2
Bhck is my steed as a cloud of rain,
There's a star of white on his brow ;
The free gales play with his feathery mane,
And lightnings gleam round his feet of snow.
Polish Poetry.
Dark foliaged glens and heathy hills, furrowed fields
and wayside cottages, with the pale smoke curling through
their roofs of yellow thatch and emerald moss; rock-
perched towers, with corbelled battlements and grated
windows ; deep fordless rivers, pathless woods, and uncul-
tivated wolds, seemed to fly past, and still the steed with
its bare-headed rider rushed on at a frightful pace, as if it
was enchanted, or bestrode by an evil spirit, like that of
Lenore in the ballad of Burger.
The moon was shining brightly now.
Near Stobo the pursuers came so close upon Gray that
he began to fear escape was impossible—the more so, as
fresh blood-hounds were baying on his track. On reach-
ing the Tweed, instead of crossing it by a ford—the river
was deeper everywhere then than now—he waded or
swam his horse up the current for about a hundred yards;
358
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
and hacked it into a low-browed fissure or cavern which
be discovered amid the rocks.
Dismounting, be drew bis sword and dagger, threw tbe
bridle over his left arm, and stood at the cavern mouth
to confront all or any who might come near, and resolved
if they discovered his lurking place to sell his life dearly ;
but he felt how much the long ride in heavy armour over
rough ground had impaired his natural strength. His
sinews were stiffened, his overtasked muscles were swollen
with pain, and his mind was as weary as his body.
On the silver current of the Tweed, as it brawled over
its broad bed of pebbles, the moon shone bright and
clearly ; close by, a tributary from the hills rushed over
a brow of rock, and formed a feathery cascade, which
plunged into a deep pool. There the peasantry affirmed
that a kind fairy was wont to appear at times, and
to bend over the cascade, mingling her white arms and
floating drapery with the foam, as she sought to save
those wayfarers whom the evil kelpie in the darksome
linn below sought to drown and devour.
JSTor hideous kelpie, nor lovely fairy were visible to-
night; but now came the hoarse grunting bark of four
large sleuth-bratches, as they leaped with heavy plunges
to the margin of the stream : tbere the scent was lost,
and tbey were once more, as at every running water, at
fault, so they ran snorting and sniffing to and fro among
the leaves, reeds, and water-docks, with the breath curling
up from their fierce red nostrils like white steam in the
clear moonlight.
Then came furious surmises and angry oaths as a dozen
or more moss-troopers galloped down to the bank of the
stream, and rode in an excited manner hither and thither,
seeking to put the dogs upon a track or trail. Through
the leafy screen of his hiding-place, Gray could see their
WILL HE ESCAPE?
359
fierce and sun-burned faces, their rusty helmets and
battered trappings, their long reed-like lances that
glittered in the moonshine; for those moss-troopers, in
their well-worn and half-barbaric accoutrements, were the
very Cossacks of the Scottish borders.
James Achanna now came up and spurred his horse
across to examine the ford, and uttered a shout of exul-
tation on discovering the trace of horses' hoofs recently
impressed in the soft mud.
Gray drew a long breath, and felt the edge of his
sword, for he thought the critical moment was at hand !
But now a trooper, with an oath expressive of disappoint-
ment, drew the attention of all to the circumstance that
the marks were those of a horse winch had gene towards
the ford and must have crossed it for the south, and that,
if they were made by the hoofs of the fugitive's nag, he
must have doubled like a hare. On hearing this, Gray
blessed his own foresight in having backed his horse
upward from the stream.
The moment this hint was given to the rest, who had
no particular views of their own on the subject, they put
spur to their horses and galloped away, almost in the
direction from whence they had come. As soon as they
were gone, Gray came forth from his lurking-place,
mounted, and rode off towards the north leisurely and at
an easy pace.
He was soon on the border of the fertile Lothians ; the
far-stretching range of the Pentlands rose upon his left,
with their heathy summits tipped by the rising sun ; the
long ridge where the trenches of Agricola's camp over-
looked the woods of Dalhousie, the Dalkeith of the
Douglases, and the vale of the two Esks, was soon sur-
mQunted, and afar off, " piled deep and massy, close and
360
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
high," he could see old grey Edinburgh rising in the
distance.
Haggard, wan, and wild in aspect, weary and torn,—
minus a helmet and with his dark hair streaming behind
him ; his armour rusted with perspiration, and by frequent
immersion in the rivers he had forded or swam ; his spurs
dripping with blood, and his sinking horse covered with
foam and quivering in every fibre ; his embroidered sur-
coat frittered by brambles and thorns—the Captain of the
King's Guard passed through the streets of Edinburgh, and
reached the castle, thus actually returning, as the old gate-
ward had shrewdly predicted, " faster than he gaed awa."
The Master of Crichton (the chancellor's eldest son),
the favourite page of James, conducted him at once to the
latter, who was in the same apartment of David's Tower,
and occupied with the same translated romance of Sir
Gilbert the Haye.
" What of MacLellan 1" said he, starting up.
" MacLellan is dead, sire," replied Gray in a scarcely
audible voice, and in a burst of grief and excitement.
" My kinsman—my friend—he has gone to heaven ; but
he was foully murdered, and in cold blood, by the base
Lord Douglas, and I shall avenge him—yea, fearfully,
I swear it by Him at whose throne he is now perhaps
kneeling!"
"And I will aid your vengeance, Gray," added the
: king, pressing his hand.
Then, when Sir Patrick had related his story, James
vowed deeply in his heart, if he could not conciliate
Douglas, to crush him and break his terrible bond, or
let himself be crushed in the contest.
STIRLING,
SGI
CHAPTER LI.
STIRLING.
Ve towers within whose circuit dread,
A Douglas by his sovereign bled ;
And thou, oh sad and fatal mound,
That oft has heard the death-axe sound.—Scott.
To Gray it seemed as if Heaven or fate had conspired
with Douglas to keep him and Murielle separate for the
period of their natural lives ; though Ring James assured
him that his day of retribution, if not of happiness, must
soon come now.
The king of Scotland was most anxious to avoid the
horrors of a civil war with those obnoxious peers, who
openly boasted, that on a day's notice, by the Fiery Cross,
they could array forty thousand men against his throne
and authority. He was really, and naturally so, alarmed
by the bond or league of the Douglases and their con-
federates j but the summer passed, and the spring of the
next year drew on, before the haughty earl would agree
to meet his sovereign in solemn conference at Stirling.
Then James promised Gray that all disputes would be
ended; and that the wish which lay nearest his heart—
the surrender of his wife to him—would be granted.
How vain were the hopes of the good young king;
and how little could he or any one foresee the terrible
sequel to that long-wished-for interview !
An ample letter of safe conduct was sent to the earl of
Douglas, in custody of Sir William Lauder of Hatton, a
knight of Lothian, one of his chief friends and followers ;
and thus armed and, as he deemed, protected, he entered
the quaint and beautiful old town cf Stirling, where
3G2
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
James was then residing ; for then, and for five genera-
tions after, Stirling was the Aranjuez, or "Versailles of
the Scottish kings, and on its decorations they were un-
sparing of treasure and of care.
It was on the morning of Shrove Tuesday, the 20th of
February, 1451, that the earl arrived, accompanied by
Hugh Douglas, earl of Ormond; Dunbar, earl of Murray;
James, Lord Hamilton of Cadzow; Sir Alan Lauder; the
lairds of Pompherston, Glendoning, Cairnglas, and, of
course, James Achanna,—in all they were many hundred
horsemen. They made no parade or show, save of war;
for all these nobles, knights, and their followers, were
mounted, mailed, and armed to perfection, so as to be in
readiness for any emergency ; and they were all men of
approved and even reckless valour.
The early winter was past; the vast valley or plain,
through which the wondrous links of Forth wind like a
silver snake towards the German Sea, was assuming that
brilliance of green which is the first indication of reviving
nature.
The notes of the woodlark and throstle-cock were
heard in the woods of Craigforth; the moles were busy
on the fallow uplands, and the gnats swarmed in the sun-
shine about the budding hedgerows; in the park below
the castle walls of Stirling, the bare-legged urchins of
the town were busy " throwing at cocks " tied to stakes—
a barbarous custom by which Shrovetide was always
celebrated in Scotland, as well as in south Britain;
others were playing at foot-ball, or shooting at the butts
with little arblasts; and the shouts of their merriment
rang upward in the clear and almost frosty air, to where
Mary of Gueldres and her ladies were seated at the win-
dows of the royal dwelling, many hundred feet above the
grassy glen. But all left their sports, and hastened to the
STIRLING.
363
gate which opened towards the old Druid oaks of the
Tor wood, when the brass bombardes of the fortress rolled
their thunder on the still atmosphere, and made the Ochil
mountains echo in salute to the doughty earl of Douglas,
while the clarions and trumpets of his train rang before
the barrier-porte of the ancient burgh.
His family banner, twelve trumpets, with a royal
herald and pursuivant, preceded him ; and as he passed
up the quaint streets, where the burghers at their win-
dows, galleries, turrets, and forestairs, hung out pennons,
tapestry, and garlands, and received him with acclama-
tions, he deemed it all a tribute to his rank, and to his
mighty feudal and mightier political power; although
this display was merely the joyous outpouring of their
hearts at the prospect of an amicable end being put to
the jealousy and hate which had separated the chief of
the Douglases—that line of glorious old historic memory
—from a brave and high-spirited monarch whom they
loved. It was all in the spirit of the old ballad—
God save the king, and bless the land
In plenty, joy, and peace;
And grant henceforth that foul debate
'Twixt noblemen may cease.
The earl's cuirass was of Milan steel, magnificently
damascened, studded with gilt nails, and furnished at the
armpits with little espalettes of gold. From under his
open helmet, which was surrounded by a coronet, he
looked around him with a smile of surly satisfaction;
but his most powerful friend, Sir James, the lord
Hamilton of Cadzow, said, solemnly and sternly,
" Let not all this delude you, Douglas, to forget on this
day the wrongs of your race."
"Forget?" reiterated the other, grimly; "forget, said
ye, GadiVW ? If I forget my father and my kinsmen, so
3GI
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
may God, his blessed Mother, and St. Bryde of Douglas,
forget me ! No, Hamilton, never shall I forget the good
and doughty Douglases who have gone before me, for their
lives were lives of danger, and their mail-clad breasts
were Scotland's best bulwarks in the stormy days of old."
" I know all that; but our bond—and the king "—
said Hamilton, hesitatingly.
" Well, he is neither priest, philosopher, nor exorcist,
like that old knave of Tongland, who has left me to my own
sins and devices ; so what can he make of the matter 1"
" When we are within yonder castle on the rock, he
may perhaps term it treason."
" He dare not!" was the bold reply.
" I beseech you to beware, my lord earl," said Lord
Hamilton ; " I have a strange foreboding in my heart,
and I warn you now—even as the good Sir Malcolm
Fleming warned Earl William—to remember that before
the gate of Stirling lies a mound, on which have rolled
the heads of Murdoch of Albany, of his two sons, of
Duncan, earl of Lennox, and many others."
" What of that?" asked the earl impatiently, as if he
disliked the subject.
" In one minute more, you will be at the mercy
of the king," said Hamilton, who was alike bold and
wary.
But the earl laughed scornfully and rode on, while the
majority of his vast retinue separated to seek quarters in
the town, as the castle could not have held them.
" There is yet time to pause—even to return," re-
sumed Hamilton, as he all but seized the earl's reiu.
" I know not what you mean, Cadzow ; but I care not,
and he dare not," said Douglas, as he reined up his horse
and dismounted at the gate of the castle.
Before it was a strong palisade, within which the sol-
STIRLING.
365
diers of the king's guard were under arms, with their
helmets, corslets, plate sleeves, and partisans glittering in
the sun. At their head were Sir Patrick Gray, and his
kinsman, Gray of Balgarno, clad, not in state dresses, but
complete armour, as if for battle.
Sir Patrick and the earl exchanged angry and hostile
glances as they passed each other. There was a consider-
able pressure about the gate, as the chief followers of
Douglas crushed after him through the narrow outer
wicket; and there a strange fracas took place between
Cadzow and the grim old Sir Alexander Livingstone of
Callender, who, after he had relinquished the regency,
had been appointed justice-general of Scotland, with a
peerage in perspective.
Sir Alexander snatched a partisan from the hands of
his son, Sir James Livingstone, who was captain of the
castle of Stirling, and when Hamilton (his own kinsman
and friend) attempted to enter, he placed the shaft across
the wicket, and roughly thrust him back.
Inspired by a sudden fury, Hamilton shut down the
visor of his helmet, and, sword in hand, was rushing upon
Livingstone; but the strong and determined old knight
resolutely held him back till the gates were shut, and
thus he, with many more of the earl's train who might
have proved troublesome from their number and dispo-
sition, were excluded.
" Sir James Hamilton," says history, " was very angry
at this usage at the time; but afterwards learned that
Livingstone acted a friendly part in excluding him from
the probable danger into which Douglas was throwing
himself." It was a conference the end of which none
could foresee.
It is somewhat remarkable that, after a brawl which,
seemed -^nificant of perils yet to Douglas
366
the captain of the guard.
(unless he was ignorant of its occurrence) should have
passed through the embattled porch of the fortress 3 but
now all the barriers were closed, and no course was
open but to dree, his weird—to follow his destiny I
CHAPTER LII.
how the king broke the bond.
Little honour it won thee
For smooth was thy greeting ;
Thou wast bid to the feast,
In the hall was your meeting.
In the hall was your meeting,
But thou stained it with slaughter;
When there's blood on the hearth,
Who can wash it with water ?
From tee Gaelic.
Veiling his just indignation under a bland exterior,
King James II. received the turbulent earl kindly and
with condescension 3 and after some amicable expostula-
tions on the subject of the men he had so lawlessly put to
death in Thrave and elsewhere—the ravages he had com-
mitted upon the lands of his enemies—the towns he had
burned and the castles he had stormed, all seemed to
become cordiality between him and his much-too-power-
ful subject.
Of these startling acts they conversed as quietly and
easily as modern men may do of an el*r*Nn, a bill before
parliament, or any ordinary and everyday affair3 yet they
were dangerous topics to comment upon at such a time,
for by the king's side were still the Lord Chancellor
Crichton, Sir Alexander Livingstone of Callender, the
Lord Glammis, Sir Patrick Gray, and others3 while near
HOW THE KING BKOKE THE BOND.
3G7
Douglas were the Earls Of Crawford, Murray, and Or-
mond, with Porupherston, Glendoning, and others, all,
more or less, involved personally; but now, on looking
round, the earl missed the powerful chief of the house of
Hamilton.
"Is not Cadzow here?" he asked, changing colour.
" He remains in the town," said Sir Alexander Liv-
ingstone with a smile which there was no analyzing;
" but if it please you, lord earl, I shall send him a
message."
" Do so, Laird of Callender," replied the earl, and for
the first time in my life I shall thank you."
" We shall see," replied Livingstone as he withdrew
to an antechamber, where he disengaged the gold spur
from his right heel, and giving it to James's page, the
Master of Crichton bade him " see the Lord Hamilton,
of Cadzow, and give him this spur, with a kinsman's best
wishes for its speedy use."
The spur was duly delivered—the hint was accepted,
and the brawl at the gate seemed explained ; for within
an hour, Hamilton and his followers were far on the road
to Clydesdale and the castle of Cadzow.
At the hour of seven, the king, Douglas, and their
retinue sat down to a banquet, or rere-supper, in the
castle-hall. It was sumptuous, and what it lacked in
genuine hilarity was made up in rude and antique
splendour. At that banquet friends and foes seemed
united for the time—though like Scotsmen in general,
the moment it was over, and while the hall yet echoed
with the flourish of trumpets as the king rose, they drew
into cliques and coteries, who talked and scowled at each
other. The king, Crichton, and Livingstone earnestly
desired a compromise and coalition with Douglas.
On one hand the latter wished to scare them by a
368
THE CAPTAIN* OF THE GUARD.
display of his power, and on the other to fathom their
ulterior plans without revealing his own ; thus during
the banquet he carefully avoided the perilous subject
of his rebellious bond.
Gray, as he leaned on his partizan, at the back of the
king's chair, kept the visor of his helmet half closed, to
conceal the emotions of his heart, which his face might
have betrayed. Not even the image of Murielle, pale,
gentle, and sad-eyed, could soften at that time the
bitterness that burned within him. His long separation
from her ; his wounds inflicted by the hands of the earl
and his followers; his many wrongs; the snares of
Achanna ; the long captivity in the Flemish castle of
Bommel; his kinsman's murder, and the terrors of that
desperate flight from Thrave, all swelled up like a flood of
fiery thoughts within him, and he actually conceived
the idea of smiting Douglas on the face with his iron
glove in the king's presence, and challenging him to
mortal combat in the hall.
Night had set in—a dark and gusty night of February,
when the wind howled loudly and drearily round the
towers of Stirling, and when the moon cast its fitful
gleams with the shadows of the fast-flying clouds, on the
wide vale of Forth, and the mighty masses of the Ochil
Mountains. The pages were lighting the sconces and
chandeliers in the great hall, while the yeomen of the
cellars were supplying the guests with more wine, when
James, impatient to broach the subject of the bond,
privately invited the earl to accompany him into a closet,
which is still shown in the north-western corner of the
castle—the same quarter of the royal residence in which
he first saw the light. In golden letters, on its cornice,
may yet be seen his name :
Shieobtts If. Hry ^rottoruni.
HOW THE KING BROKE THE BOND. 369
Its walls were then covered with gilded Spanish
leather; a fire of perfumed wood burned cheerfully on
the hearth; but the poker and tongs, though each
surmounted by an imperial crown, were chained to the
iambs, as if in the house of a simple citizen.
After trimming the lights, the pages, on a sign from
the king, withdrew backwards, bowing at every step,
and he was left with the earl, who found himself alone,
or unattended, and in the closet were the Lords Crichton,
Glammis, Sir Patrick Gray, a gentleman of the bed-
chamber, named Sir Simon Glendinning, and one or two
others, who were the chosen friends of James.
Aware that their sovereign was about to take the earl
calmly but severely to task, they all drew somewhat
apart, and Gray, with soldier-like instinct, leaned in silence
on his partizan near the door. On perceiving these little
movements, a smile of disdain crossed the earl's swarthy
face, and he played significantly with his jewelled dagger.
James resumed the subject of his general conduct, and
if Master David Hume of Godscroft, the historian of the
house of Douglas, can be credited, the earl answered
submissively enough, and craved the royal pardon, often
alleging that the slaughter of Sir Herbert Herries of
Teregles, Sir Thomas MacLellan of Bombie, and others,
were not acts against the crown, but lawful raids against
his own personal enemies.
" But how came you to slay the Gudeman of my mills
at Carluke ? " asked the king." Carluke—ha ! ha ! "
" The death of a good man is no laughing matter,"
said James, with a frown on his handsome face.
" He was accused of having weeds on his land."
"Weeds ! " was the perplexed rejoinder.
"Yes, your highness—weeds. It was statute and
2 B
370
THE CAPTAIN OF TIIE GUARD
ordained by Alexander II., that he who poisoneth the
king's lands with weeds, especially the corn marigold,
was a traitor."
" By my faith ! that should make clean garden-work
in the realm of" Scotland," said the old chancellor,
bitterly ; " but the law says, that he who hath a plant
of this kind found on his lands may be fined a sheep,
or the value thereof, at the goul-court of the baron;
whereas the miller died, or was found murdered—hewn
to pieces by Jethart axes, within the Holy Gyrth of Les-
mahago—a crime against the Church as well as State."
" I came* not here to talk of peasant carles and their
modes of dying," said Douglas, with a terrible frown at
Crichton, his hatred for whom he cared not to conceal;
and since when, my lord chancellor, has a slaughter,
committed in the form of Raid, been termed a murder
in Scotland 1"
" Enough about the poor miller," resumed the king,
with growing severity ; " my lord, I have another com-
plaint; you have lawlessly separated a faithful subject, the
captain of our guard, from his wedded wife, and thus
have torn asunder, for many long years, those whom
your own father-confessor united before the altar with
every due solemnity."
" I hope to separate them yet more surely," replied the
earl, with a glance of unutterable hate at Gray.
" This, in my presence ? " exclaimed the king ; " thou
heart of iron !"
" In any man's presence, and to any man who mars or
meddles with my domestic affairs; but I beseech your
majesty to change the ungracious subject."
" Be it so," replied the king, with a gentleness he was
very far from feeling, as his temper was fiery in the ex-
treme. "All these are matters for after consideration ;
HOW THE KING BROKE THE BOND. 371
but what say you to that most treasonable confederation,
into which you have entered with the earls of Crawford.
Ormond, Ross, the lords Hamilton, Balvenie, and many
others ? By that bond you seek to array one half my
kingdom against me—a kingdom over which my dynasty
has ruled in strength for so many generations."
" So much the worse," sneered the insolent peer ; " for
all dynasties begin in strength and end in weakness."
" I pledge my royal word," continued the king, trernb-
ling with suppressed passion, " that when I first heard of
your league, and of its terrible tenor, I could scarcely give
it credence." " Possibly, your grace—but what then?"
" Simply, that bond must be broken."
" Must! " reiterated the earl, incredulously.
" Yes must, and shall, by the soul of St. Andrew ! Ho
such leagues can be tolerated in a realm, without the
express sanction of its sovereign ; and by abandoning this
confederacy, Douglas, you will remove every suspicion
from my mind." " Suspicion !—of what ?"
" Secret motives, whose aim we cannot see."
" Sire !" began Douglas, loftily, but paused.
"notwithstanding all that has passed, I am unwilling
to believe the evil which men impute to you," said James,
with a most conciliating manner ; " but you must expect
neither favour nor mercy from me if you continue to show
such examples to my people, and teach them to live as if
there were neither law nor justice in the kingdom."
Douglas heard this bold remonstrance (in which we follow
the words of history) with surprise; but recovering him-
self) replied plausibly ; and in the pauses of this conference
the sounds of laughter, hilarity, and the clinking of cups
and goblets came from the adjoining hall, with the notes
of the harps in the gallery.
2 n 2
372
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUA11D.
" Your Majesty's favour I shall certainly endeavour to
preserve," said the earl. " You are aware that I have
the honour to command many who obey me faithfully and
fearlessly, and I trust you are also aware that I know well
how to render dutiful obedience to you. None of your
subjects in Scotland possess higher rank or greater power
than I, the Earl of Douglas, do ; nor is there one who
will more freely peril life and fortune in defence of your
majesty's throne and honour. But," he added, suddenly
relinquishing his adopted suavity, and glancing malig-
nantly at Crichton, Gray, and others ; " those who lay
snares for my life—even as they snared my kinsmen in
144.0—are now your majesty's constant attendants, friends,
and advisers, so that I dare not trust myself in your royal
presence, without a letter of safe conduct, as if I were an
Englishman, or any other subject of a foreign king."
" And without an army of followers," added the chan-
cellor, who, remembering the ambush in which he had so
nearly perished before his own gate, was confounded by
the stolid effrontery of his enemy.
" But the bond," said the king; " the bond, my lord !"
"As for that league of mutual friendship, formed by
certain nobles and myself, I can assure your majesty, that,
for any purpose which pleased us, we should adhere to-
gether quite well without its existence."
" Did friendship alone produce the bond ? " asked James
with an eagle glance in his keen hazel eyes.
" No—we were driven to seal and sign it,—not with
intent to attack our enemies, but to defend ourselves
against them."
" Lord Earl," said the king, gravely, " deeds, not words,
evince the affection and submission of a subject; and
there can be no greater security for him, than the justly
administered laws of the realm. men as you, my
HOW THE KING BROKE THE BOND.
373
lord of Douglas, have ever raised those factions which
have subverted the authority of your kings and the laws
of your country ; and now I am resolved to tolerate no
subjects of any rank or condition who dare to form
leagues, offensive and defensive, against all persons."
" My ancestors " began the earl furiously.
" Oh, my lord," said James ; " what is all your mad
pride of ancestry, when compared "
" With yours, your majesty would say ! "
"No," replied the king, with a bitter smile, while
growing pale with rage.
" What then ?" " With personal worth."
The daring Douglas gave his young monarch a glance
of profound disdain ; and during this species of altercation,
it was with difficulty that Crichton, Gray, Glammis, and
Sir Simon Glendinning restrained the desire for falling
on the earl sword in hand. " Proceed," said the latter
with a sigh of mock resignation.
" The objects of your bond are to disclaim all rule, to
do what you please, to commit treason, and by your own
swords to justify your ultimate views, until you rush upon
the throne itself. So I, as a king, whose power comes
direct from God and the people, demand that this most
dangerous league, with Ross, with Crawford, Ormond, and
Balvenie, be instantly broken ! "
" The bond was formed with the mutual consent of
many; and unless they meet for consultation, which
they may do on a day's notice, it cannot be renounced
without dishonour by any one of us."
James, who knew their boast, that " on a day's notice "
they could array forty thousand men in their helmets
against him, gave the crafty peer a withering glance as he
replied, " My lord, the first example of renunciation shall
be set by you. No man—not even though earl of
374
the captain of the guard.
Douglas and lord of Galloway—dare disclaim my autlio-
rity, and you shall not stir a single pace from this chamber
until, in presence of these loyal lords and gentlemen, you
retract your adherence to this treason."
"Your grace must remember that I came hither upon
the public assurance and letters of safe conduct."
"No public letter can protect a man from the punish-
ment due to private treason ! "
Then, says history, "as this last reply of James implied
a threat of personal violence, the native pride of Douglas
betrayed him into the most imprudent passipn. He broke
into a torrent of reproaches, upbraiding the king for de-
priving him of the office of lieutenant-general of the
kingdom, declared that he cared little for the name of
treason, with which his conduct had been branded ; that,
as to his confederacy with the earls of Ross and Crawford,
he had it not in his own power to dissolve it, and that if he
had, he would be sorry to offend his best friends to gratify
the boyish caprices of a king. James, naturally fiery and
impetuous, became furious with rage at this rude defiance,
uttered in his own palace by one whom he regarded as
his enemy." He drew his dagger, and, animated by a
gust of temper far beyond his control, exclaimed, " False
traitor ! if thou wilt not break the bond, this shall !"
With these words he drove the weapon into the earl's
breast—the keen and glittering blade passing between
his cuirass and the gold espalette at his left armpit.
Choking in blood, the fierce and fearless earl fell back for
an instant. Then, maddened by pain, and perhaps by
the prospect of immediate death, he unsheathed his own
poniard, and was rushing upon James, when—as we are
told by Buchanan—Gray interposed and struck him down
by a blow on the head with his partisan. " This for Mac-
Lellan ! " he exclaimed, in a hoarse voice.
HOW THE KING .BROKE THE- BOND.
375
" Villain ! " sighed the earl, as he sank on the rush-
covered floor, and struggled vainly to rise again.
" I struck but to save my king, lord earl," said Gray,
bending over him, " and for no private wrong of my own,
nathless my words, so Heaven be my judge ! but say,
shall Murielle, my wife, be surrendered to me 1"
The earl gave Gray a ghastly smile as the blood flowed
darkly over his bright armour, and a livid pallor over-
spread his swarthy face-
" Speak, I conjure you," urged Gray ; " speak, ere it
be too late—Murielle "
" Shall never be thine," muttered the dying earl, with
quivering lips and uncertain accents; " for when this
news reaches Thrave, Achanna—James Achanna—has—
has my orders—orders to—to "
" What 1 " implored Gray, bending low his ear ;
" what ?" " To strangle her ! "
These terrible words were scarcely uttered, when
many who were the earl's enemies rushed in with their
swords and daggers, and, holding back the king, Gray,
Crichton, and Glendinning, who—now that their first
gust of fury was over, would have saved him—speedily
ended his life by the infliction of six-and-twenty wounds.
They then opened the window, and flung the yet warm
and sorely mangled corpse of that mighty earl, who was
the rival of his king, into the nether baillerie of the
castle ; and from the terrible deed of that night of Shrove
Tuesday, the 20th of February, the apartment in which,
it took place is still named the "Douglas Room."
* ■» -;c- * * *
As a sequel to it, the Edinburgh newspapers of the
14th of October, 1797, have the following paragraph :—
" On Thursday se'nnight, as some masons were digging
a foundation in Stirling Castle, in a garden adjacent- to
376 cal-r.uk or the guard.
the magazine, they found a human skeleton, about eight
yards from the window over which the earl of Douglas
was thrown, after he was stabbed by King James II.
There is no doubt that they were his remains, as it is
certain that he was buried in that garden, and but a
little distance from the closet window."
CHAPTER LIII.
the siege of thrave.
Well, then, to work ; our cannon shall he bent
Against the brows of this resisting town ;
Call for our chiefest men of discipline
To cull the plots of best advantages :
We'll lay before this town our royal bones,
Wade to the market-place in Frenchmen's blood,
But we will make it subject to this boy.—King John.
The unfortunate Sir Patrick Gray knew the atrocities
of which the castle of Thrave had been the scene during
the late earl's lifetime ; and he also knew the cruelty of
which Achanna, his tool and minion, was capable ; thus
the dying words of Douglas made his soul tremble with
terror for the safety of Murielle, in such butcherly and
unscrupulous hands. But how was she to be saved %
All the vassals of the crown were not numerous enough
to penetrate into Galloway and storm Thrave, amid a
land of pastoral wilds and pathless forests, swarming with
freebooting lairds, fierce moss-troopers, and half-savage
Celts. Of venturing there alone, like a knight-errant, his
recent expedition had fully illustrated the danger, and
after the last terrible deed in Stirling the peril would be
greater than ever.
That stern deed of the young' king filled the Dou-
glases with rage j but it was not without a salutary effect
THE SIEGE OF THRAVE.
377
upon their adherents, as it evinced that he would no
longer brook their insulting and rebellious conduct.
Posterity can have little sympathy for the fate of
Douglas, " whose career from first to last," says Mr.
Tytler, " had been that of a selfish, ambitious, and cruei
tyrant, who, at the moment when he was cut off, was all
but a convicted traitor, and whose death, if we except the
mode in which it was brought about, was to be regarded
as a public benefit."
His friends and his adherents, however, were not dis-
posed to take this calm view of the matter. His younger
brother succeeded to his titles and estates, and was styled
"Earl of Douglas and Duke of Touraine ; " and he, with
the earls of Murray, Ormond, Lord Balvenie, and others,
all Douglases, proposed to storm the castle of Stirling,
and put all within it to the sword, not even excepting
James and his young queen, Mary of Gueldres ; but a
little reflection convinced them of the peril of such an
enterprise, and, moreover, that they were without cannon
or other resources to attempt it.
However, six hundred nobles, barons, and gentlemen,
of the house of Douglas, mustered in full array, with all
their vassals, within the town of Stirling, on the 25th
day of March—the feast of St. Benedict—and dragged
through mud and mire the king's safe conduct, which
they nailed on a wooden truncheon, and tied to the tail
of a sorry old jaded cart-horse. They then burned it
publicly at the Market Cross, where after four hundred
horns and twenty brass trumpets had proclaimed defiance,
they stigmatized " the king, the lord Crichton, Sir Alex-
ander Livingstone, Sir Patrick Gray, and all who adhered
to them, as false and perjured traitors ! "
They bade formal defiance to the royal garrison. Then,
after completely pillaging the town, they set it on fire in
378
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUAP.D.
every quarter, and, leaving it in flames and ashes, retired
through the adjacent country, which they filled with
tumult and outrage. Having thus expended their fury
on all that came in their way, they retired each to his
own fortress, to prepare for what might follow.
Not long after this, the new earl, with his brothers,
friends, and kinsmen, daringly fixed on the doors of the
parish churches a document, in which they solemnly
renounced their allegiance to the king " as a perjured
traitor, a violator of the laws of hospitality, and an
ungodly tnirster after innocent blood."
The parliament now resolved to aid their justly-
incensed monarch in punishing these contumacious
nobles, and in a short time he found himself at the head
of thirty thousand carefully-selected men, who assembled
on Pentland Muir, and with them he resolved to advance
against the Douglases. Sir Patrick Gray and the royal
guard, of course, accompanied him on this expedition.
The king had with him, William, the lord high con-
stable, whom he had just created earl of Errol, and
leader of feudal cavalry ; Lord Crichton's son, whom he
had created earl of Caithness and lord high admiral of
the kingdom; the lords Hailes, Fleming, Boyd, and
many other loj-al nobles, with all their followers.
He had a fine train of artillery (as artillery was viewed
in those days), under Bomanno of that ilk, the principal
cannon being the Lion,, a great gun cast in Flanders and
shipped at Bruges, for Scotland, by order of his father,
James I., in 1430. It was of polished brass, covered by
beautiful carvings and ornaments, and bore the following
inscription:—
" Mustia Cacofco J^cottorum, pvinripc tttgno,
Hcgt magmfico, hum fulmtnr ras'tra rciJucr>,
dfnctus sum s'ub to, mmnipcr ergo 31c."
THE SIEGE OF THRAVE.
379
The white or gaudily-striped and bannered tents of the
royal army covered all the great tract of land known as
Pentland Muir, and clustered by the margin of lonely
Logan Burn, which flows through a green sequestered
vale, the solitude of which was now broken by the hum
of the camp, the hourly din of horn and trumpet, the
clanging of the hammers and anvils of the farriers and
armourers; thus, the shepherd on the Pentland slopes
could see the red glow of many a forge and watchfire
reddening the sides of the hills by night, and in his
shealing he could hear the unwonted sounds, that scared
his herds and hirsels from their pasture, the eagle from
its eyrie in Torduff, and broke the silence of the pastoral
waste :—
Piercing the night's dull ear ; and from the tents
The armourers accomplishing the knights,
With busy hammers closing rivets up,
Give note of dreadful preparation.
The wiry music of the harp might also be heard at
times amid the camp, for many minstrels accompanied
the king's army. The last time its notes were heard in
a Scottish host was when Argyll marched to the battle
of Benrinnes, in 1594.
After hearing solemn mass said in the old rectory kirk
of Pentland, where whilom was a settlement of the
Gillian Chriosd (followers of the Lord)—whence comes the
name of Gilchrist—the order was issued by James to
strike the tents, and then the whole army marched against
the Douglases. The king wore at his helmet the glove
of his beautiful Mary d'Egmont, and a knot of her neck-
ribbons decorated his lance. The task his troops had
undertaken was somewhat arduous, as they had to pene-
trate into wild districts destitute of roads, where every
laird and neasant. everv veoman and hind, felt it his duty
380 THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUAHD.
to defend his chief against all mankind, even the king, if
he came in a hostile guise.
"YVith the ghastly smile of the dead earl yet before him,
and the terrible words he had uttered yet lingering in his
ear, Sir Patrick Gray longed to be at Thrave; and his
heart sickened with impatience during the tardy passage
of the king's army through Ettrick Forest and Annan-
dale, the home of powerful and predatory Border clans,
into Galloway ; for malcontents and marauders were to be
punished on eveiy hand; the growing corn-fields were
swept by fire ; towers were stormed and castles dis-
mantled, by having their gates unhinged and their battle-
ments thrown down.
Many of the Douglas adherents, on seeing the deter-
mination of James and the number of his host, implored
forgiveness; and he, being by nature too fiery and im-
petuous to be vindictive, pardoned them ; but the young
earl had fled, no one knew whither save his own friends.
At last the king approached the banks of the Dee, and
saw before him the famous stronghold of Thrave. The
vanguard of his army, the vassals of Lord Glammis, gave
a shout when they first came in sight of it, and that
shout found an echo in the heart of Gray, as it did in the
hearts of the Douglas garrison ; for in Thrave, at least a
thousand men, under Sir Alan Lauder, prepared to de-
fend themselves to the last, and literally to fight with
ropes around their necks.
When the vanguard halted, and the army began to
encamp, the king, accompanied by Sir Patrick Gray,
Lord Crichton, and others, rode forward to examine this
strong and spacious castle, on which the Douglas banner
was waving, and all the ramparts of which, from the
outer barbican wall to the summit of the keep, seemed
full of armed men, glittering, moving and instinct with
THE SIEGE OF THRAVE.
381
animation, all save one who hung from the gallows knob,
and he was still enough.
The mighty fabric, with its moat and bridge, its grated
windows and battlements bristling with steel pikes, brass
sakers, and long arquebuses, was as grim, as gloomy, as
dark and stern as ever, and its shadow was cast by the
evening sun far along the surface of the Dee. A white
puff of smoke floated suddenly from the keep in the sun-
shine, and with the sharp report of a culverin, souse came
an iron ball, which struck the earth beneath the forefeet
of Sir Patrick's horse, causing it to rear wildly.
" A narrow chance of death," said he, with a dark smile.
" There are some chances that do not happen twice in
a man's lifetime," said the king laughing; " so we had.
better change our ground."
As they rode towards the three thorn trees at the
Carlinwark (one of which still survives, though gnarled,
knotted, and old, with the lapse of, perhaps, ten centuries),
a shout rose from the half-formed camp, and the soldiers
began to rush to their standards, for now a large body of
troops were seen debouching from the woods in their
rear, and a rumour instantly spread that they were
English forces under the young earl of Douglas, advancing
to raise the siege. But the momentary alarm was soon
quelled on the return of Lord Glammis and the Master of
Crichton, who, by the king's order, had advanced to meet
them and reconnoitre.
" They are fresh troops from Ayr, who are come to
join your highness," said Glammis, " the men of the three
Baileries of Kyle, Carrick, and Cunningham."
" Under whom 1"
" The Lord Montgomerie of that Ilk and Sir Bobert of
Kilmaurs, who request permission to kiss your hand."
" Good—'tis weJl."
382
the captain of the guard.
" And better still, tbere have come in with them, the
three Wards of Etterick, Yarrow, and Tweed."
" The archers of our old Royal Forest of Selkirk !
Thank Heaven, despite this Douglas war, there are loyal
and true hearts in Scotland yet ! " exclaimed the king.
" And now to summon this devil of a fortress. Who will
ride forward with the sign of truce ?"
" That will I, readily," said Gray.
Others who were of higher rank might have claimed
the perilous service ; but all knew how Sir Patrick was
situated, or connected with the family then in rebellion
against the throne, so none came forward to dispute the
errand with him.
" I thank you my faithful friend," said James. " You
know the terms I offer; instant surrender, and that if
the garrison resist, every man found within the walls
shall suffer by the edge of the sword."
CHAPTER LIY.
the defiance.
Thou a young king art, Alfonso,
New thy sceptre in the land ;
Establish well at home thy power,
Ere thou drawest forth the brand.—The Cm.
Sir Patrick Gray laid aside his helmet and gauntlets,
and with a freshly peeled willow rod, the old Scottish
symbol of peace and truce in his right hand, rode boldly
forward, and while scanning every window with eager
eyes for one beloved face and form, he found himself
before the formidable gate of Tlirave. No faces but those
of armed and helmeted men were visible.
At his approach the drawbridge was lowered and the
gates were unclosed ; but the portcullis, which was com-
THE DEFIANCE.
383
posed of iron bars welded together in harrow-fashion by
the ponderous hammer of Malise MacKim, remained
closed, and within, or beyond it, he saw the Lairds of
Pompherston, Cairnglas, and Glendoning, with James
Achanna, and Sir Alan Lauder, who was governor of
Thrave, and as a symbol of that office wore a silver key
suspended at his neck by a chain of the same metal. All
were in complete armour, but wore their helmets open.
Anxiety and anger, but also resolution, were expressed in
all their faces.
"In the name of his majesty the king !" exclaimed
Gray, reining in his horse.
" Well—what ware bring you here, sir, in the name of
his majesty the king1?" asked Lauder, sternly but
mockingly.
" I, Patrick Gray, of Foulis, knight, commander of the
royal guard, summon you, knights, gentlemen, and others^
adherents of the umquhile and forfeited Earls of Douglas,
Murray, Ormond, and of the Lords Hamilton and Bal-
venie, to yield up this strength unto the king, or other-
wise to abide our cannon, and the fate in store for all who
are guilty of treason and rebellion !"
" Sir Patrick Gray," replied Lauder, a grim old man
with a long silver beard and a severely knitted brow,
" you have come to the wrong quarter to offer such hard
terms. My name is Alan Lauder, of the Auld Craig
o'Bass my shield bears a double tressure, to show that I
and mine have been faithful to our trust, and my motto,
as the monks have it, is Turris prudentia custos, and by
it shall I abide. The garrison of Thrave believe in
their patron, St. Bryde of Douglas, and, perchance, rather
more in their arblasts and arquebuses; and this house
shall we defend to the last, so help us God !" he added,
drawing off his gauntlet and raising his rio-ht hand aloft.
384
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUAR».
" Reconsider your words, rash man ! The wise may
change their minds on reflection, but fools never."
" Begone, lest a ball from an arquebus end this parley,"
replied Lauder, whose grey eyes sparkled with anger.
" Be it so," said Gray, gathering up his reins and turn-
ing his horse but the king desires me to add, that the
Countess of Douglas, the Lady Murielle, their ladies, and
all women and children now here in Thrave, may depart
in peace to Tongland Abbey, or the College of Lincluden.
If not, that they should repair to the quarter of her
bower-chamber, whereon, if a white pennon be displayed,
our cannon shall respect it."
" Good—for that small boon; as I have a fair daughter,
I, in the name of my brother outlaws, thank this most
clement king," said Douglas of Pompherston, bitterly.
"Is the Lady Murielle with the Countess?" asked
Gray, with too visible anxiety.
They all exchanged cold smiles, but no one answered.
Then a page, a pretty boy, to whom Murielle had fre-
quently been kind, was about to speak, when Achanna
suddenly put a drawn sword across his mouth, saying
sternly : " One word, ye false gowk, and it is your last!"
Gray was about to address Sir Alan again, when a
voice exclaimed : " Place for the Countess of Douglas !"
" Then, through the rusty grille of the portcullis, Gray
saw the countess approach, attended by the fair-haired
daughters of Sir Alan Lauder. His emotion increased
on seeing this twice-widowed dame—widowed so young
and so prematurely ; she who was whilome the Fair Maid
of Galloway, the sister of Murielle, and his most bitter
enemy; yet, withal, he instinctively bowed low at her
approach.
Full in stature, and magnificently formed, she was a
Woman whose natural grace and the tragic character of
THE DEFIANCE.
385
whose beauty were greatly increased by her dress, which,
though all of the deepest black, was richly jewelled with
diamonds, and the same stones sparkled on the hilt of a
tiny dagger that dangled at her girdle. Her dignity was
enhanced by the amplitude of her skirts, the satin waves
of which filled up the eye ; but her pale and lovely face,
her short upper lip and quivering nostrils, expressed only
scorn and aversion for poor Gray, while with one white
hand, after throwing back a heavy braid of her jet hair,
which she knew well to be one of her greatest beauties,
she swept up her flowing train, and with the other
pointed towards the camp of the king, as a hint for his
envoy to begone, and as she did so, her bright black eyes
flashed with latent fire.
" Countess of Douglas "
" Dowager Countess," she interrupted Gray, with a de-
risive bow, and with a voice that almost hissed through
her close white teeth.
" Madam, King James has now assumed the sword—"
" Of justice V she asked bitterly, interrupting him
again; " you should say the dagger of the assassin, Sir
Patrick Gray, as it better becomes his hand; but we
hope to test the temper of both his weapons. Twice has
he widowed me "
" He, madam ?"
" Yea, even he ; this James Stuart, who comes hither
to waste our lands, to dishonour our name, to raze our
castles, and to quench our household fires," she continued,
in a voice which though piercing was singularly sweet,
and reminded Gray of the gentler accent of Murielle.
" Hot content with slaying my husband cruelly and mer-
cilesslv under tryst, he has sworn by his royal crown and
the Black Hood of Scotland, that the tdough-share shall
3 c
386
THE CAPTAIN OP THE GUARD.
pass under the ground-stone of Thrave, and that tha
place where it stands shall be salted with salt."
" I came not hither to threaten you, madam, neither
was I desired to confer with you, but with Sir Alan
Lauder and those misguided men who are now in arms
here ; and my answer "
" Shall be this—from me, Margaret, countess dowager
of Douglas, umquhile duchess dowager of Touraine, and
lady of Longueville, Annandale, and Galloway, that James
Stuart and the Gueldrian his wife may reign where they
please, but I shall be queen on this side of the Nith, and
woe to the man, be he lord or loon, who says me nay !"
Her glance of flame, her lovely little lip that curled
with hate and scorn ; her proud face, with its unearthly
wrath and beauty—so fair in its proportions, yet so fear-
ful in its aspect of passion—haunted the Captain of the
Guard long after they had parted.
" Enough of this," said old Sir Alan Lauder, coming
brusquely forward and taking her hand; " away, Sir
Patrick—back to him, or them who sent you, and say,
that though our lord the earl was foully slain under tryst
in Stirling, his spirit is with us here in Thrave, and shall
inspire us in resisting to the last of our breath and the
last of our blood, a king who has falsely wronged us ! "
" And in every particular shall the earVs last orders be
obeyedadded Achanna, with an malignant glance at
Gray, whose head grew giddy with rage, while his blood
ran cold at the terrible inference he drew from these
words ; and the bars of the portcullis alone prevented
him from cleaving the wretch to the chin. So ended the
conference.
In this exasperated mood he rejoined the king, who,
with many of the nobles, awaited him at the three
thorns of the Carlinwark.
THE DEFIANCE.
387
The siege now began with great vigour.
On the 8th July, James wrote to Charles VII. of
France, announcing that all the fortresses of the Douglas
family had surrendered to him except Thrave, which his
troops were then besieging ; but August came, and still
the defiant banner with the bloody heart waved from the
vast keep that still overshadows the Dee.
The season was a lovely one.
The oak the ash, and the beech were still in full foliage
of the richest green; the white blossoms of the hawthorn
were past, but the bright scarlet berries of the rowan
hung in thick bunches over the trouting pools of the
Dee in many a copsewooded glen. The grain, where not
burned by the king's troops, was ripening on the sunny
upland and lowland, contrasting in its golden tints with
the dark-green of the thickets, the purple of the corn-
flower, and the gaudy scarlet of the poppies. The gueldre-
rose and the sweet-briar filled the air with perfume ; the
wild pansies and wallflowers, the pink foxglove and
bluebell, grew by the old fauld-dykes on many a Gallo-
way muir and lea; and the gorgeous cups of the long
yellow broom waved on the wild hill-side, and by the
wimpling burn that gurgled through the rushy hollows,
and under many an " auld brig-stane," in farm-town and
clachan ; but still the brass culverins of King James,
from the three great thorns of the Carlinwark, thundered
against Thrave, while old Sir Alan Lauder and his gar-
rison replied with carthoun, arquebuse a croc, and cross-
bow bolt; and now the black gled and the ravenous
hoodiecraw kept high aloft on the blue welkin, watching
for the inhuman feast that usually followed such unhal-
lowed sounds.
The troops of James had invested the castle on every
2 c 2
388 the captain of the guard.
side; tents covered all tlie vicinity; trenches and mounds,
where spears and armour glittered, crossed all the roads
and approaches. Supplies, succour, and hope, seemed all
cut off together. More than a month had elapsed since
the siege began, and still the vigour of the besieged was
undiminished ; and in the royal ranks the loss of life by
their missiles was very great.
The balls of the king's artillery—even those of the
boasted Lion of Flanders—were rained in vain upon the
solid face of that vast donjon-keep, for they were too light.
The great art of projectiles seemed yet in its infancy, and
Sir John Romanno of that ilk, the general of the ord-
nance, rent his beard in despair.
CHAPTER LV.
mowan's meg.
Seven orbs within a spacious round they close,
One stirs the fire, and one the bellows blows ;
The hissing steel is in the smithy drown'd,
The grot with beaten anvils groans around.
By turns their arms advance in equal time;
By turns their hands descend, and hammers chime.
They turn the glowing mass with crooked tongs,
The fiery work proceeds with rustic songs.
Virgil, JZneid viii.
For many days salvoes (i.e., discharges of heavy ord-
nance fired in concert by sound of trumpet) were sent
against Thrave without success, and yells of triumph and
derision, when the balls of iron and whinstone rebounded
from the massive walls—the triple yells of the Galwe-
gians, the same terrible war-cry which their forefathers
raised amid the heart of the Saxon host at the Battle of
the Standard, were borne upward on the wind to the
king's battery at the Carlinwark.
MO WAN'S MEG.
389
" This devil of a tower is invulnerable !" said Romanno,
casting down his truncheon in anger; " it is a veritable
maiden castle—strong in virtue and unassailable."
" Virtue, said ye ?" growled the old chancellor, under
his barred aventayle ; " ah, but our court-rakes aver that
even the most virtuous woman has always one weak
point, if we can only find it out."
"Out upon thy white beard, chancellor!" said the
young king, laughing; " what mean you to say ?"
" That, like a fair court lady, this castle of Thrave may
have a weak point too."
" But, unless we attempt an escalade, the capture of
the place is impossible by battering," said the general of
the ordnance.
"Impossible!" reiterated the young king, his face and
eyes glowing together, while the red spot on his cheek
assumed a deeper hue.
" Pardon me, your highness," said Sir John Romanno;
" but I humbly think so."
" Think ; but you said impossible."
" Under favour, yes."
" There is no such word in a soldier's vocabulary,"
replied the spirited monarch; "and while our hearts beat
under our breastplates there is hope."
" But the idea of an escalade," said Gray, " with the Dee
to cross, and a wall to mount, exposed to a fire of cannon
and arqubuses a croc, with long bows and arblasts to boot,
and thereafter mauls, lances, and two-handed swords in
the melee, is not to be thought of—at least until, by dint
of cannon, we effect a breach."
" A breach !" exclaimed Sir John Bomanno ; " by my
forefathers' bones ye are little likely to see that, sirs,
when the shot of our heaviest culverins, even those of
the Lion, our chief bojaabarde, rebound like silken balls
390
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUAUD.
from the stone rampart, and our cannoniers seem no
better than court-ladies at palm play."
A loud and somewhat hoarse but hearty laugh close
by made all turn towards the offender. They perceived
a man of vast and herculean proportions, with a shock
head of black hair, which the absence of his scarlet hood
(as it hung down his back) displayed in all its shaggy
amplitude, a swarthy visage, with lurid black eyes, and
a long beard. He wore a doublet of black bull's hide, a
rough kilt dyed with heather, and he leaned upon the
shaft of a ponderous iron mace, which, with a long buck-
horn-hilted dagger and fur pouch or sporran, formed his
only appurtenance.
" Art thou the knave who laughed ? " asked Bomanno,
furiously, with his hand on his sword.
" And in this presence !" added the chancellor, whose
wrath was also kindled.
" Dioual! I did laugh," replied the man, in a strong
and guttural Galloway accent; " is it a crime to laugh
at the folly or bewilderment of others ?"
" Thou base varlet! " began Horn anno, in a towering
passion, clenching his gauntleted hand, when Sir Patrick
Gray interposed, saying, " By my faith, it is my friend,
the strong smith of Thrave, who saved me from the
white sleuth-bratch. Come hither, carle, and remember
that you stand in the presence of the king."
Malise MacKim was too much of a primitive Celt to
be abashed even before a king, though he had frequently
quailed under the eye of Douglas, and the tongue of his
own wife, Meg, who was proverbial in Galloway as a
fierce virago ; so he came boldly forward and stood erect,
with an inquiring expression of eye, as if waiting to be
addressed.
mowan's meg.
"Whence is it that you-r king's perplexity excites
your laughter ?" asked James, gravely.
" Speak quickly, carle," added the chancellor, pointing
ominously to a branch of one of the thorn trees under
■which they stood.
" Threats will not force me to speak; but I answer
the king, not you, my lord," replied the unabashed Gal-
wegiaD.
"We are not used to be laughed at, sirrah," said
James ; " therefore, if you do not give us a fair reason
for your untimely merriment, by the holy rood ! I shall
begin to threaten too."
" I am Malise MacKim, surnamed the Brawny, and I
am the father of seven sons, each a head taller than
myself "
" Thou art a lucky dog, would I were the same," said
the king ■ " but is this a reason for laughter ?"
" What the devil is all this to us, fellow ?" asked
Rom anno.
" This much ; they are all smiths, and can each wield
a fore hammer forty pounds in weight, as if it were a
kettle-drumstick. Ochoin! Mhuire as truadh ! Ochoin!
There was a time when we never thought to swing our
hammers in the service of mortal man, save Douglas.
But vengeance is sweeter than bread in famine ; so, if
your grace will give us but iron enough, I will be con-
tent to forfeit my head, or to hang by the neck from
that thorn tree, if, within the space of seven summer
days, my seven brave bairns and I fail to fashion you a
bombarde which, at the first discharge, will pierce
yonder wall like a gossamer web, so aid us Heaven and
St. Cudbrecht 1"
" This is a brave offer," said the general of the ord-
392
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
nance, mockingly j " and what weight may the balls of
this proposed cannon be 1"
" Each one shall be the weight of a Carsphairn cow,"
replied the smith slowly, as if reflecting while answer-
ing ; " and if each fails to shake Thrave to its ground-
stane, the king's grace may hang me, as I have said,
on that thorn branch, as a false and boasting limmer."
" You speak us fairly, good fellow," said the king, who
seemed pleased and amused by the burly smith's blunt-
ness and perfect confidence. " We are not in a position
to reject such loyal offers. Eashion this great gun for
me, and if it does the service you promise, by my father's
soul! you shall have a fair slice of yonder fertile land
between the TJrr and Dee."
As he spoke, James drew off his gauntlet, and pre-
sented his hand to the gigantic smith, who knelt and
kissed it respectfully, but with the clownish air of one
alike unused to kneeling and to courtesy.
On MacKim requiring material, each of the principal
burghers of Kirkcudbright contributed a gaud or bar of
iron, in their anxiety to serve the king, and to have the
death of Sir Thomas MacLellan more fully avenged. As
a reward for this contribution, King James made the town
a royal burgh, and in memory of it, his gallant grandson,
on the 26th of February, 1509, granted the old castle
of the MacLellans as a free gift to the corporation.
At a place named the Bucbancroft, a rude but exten-
sive forge was soon erected, and there, stripped to their
leathern girdles, the brawny MacKim and his seven
sturdy sons, like Vulcan and the Cyclops, plied and swung
their ponderous hammers on great resounding anvils,
while welding the vast hoops and forming the long bars
that were to compose the great cannon which was to
demolish the famous stronghold of Thr:>.v-r<«
MOW AN S MEG.
393
Seven days and seven nights these muscular smiths
worked almost without cessation, and the lurid glow of
their great forge was nightly seen from the doomed for-
tress to redden the sky above, the waters of the Dee
below, and the tented camp of the besieging army; and
only a few years ago, when the new road was made past
Carlinwark, a vast mound of cinders and ashes, which
formed the debris of their work, was discovered and
cleared away.
Meanwhile, a band of artificers, with hammer and chisel,
were fashioning the balls, which were quarried on the
summit of the Binnan hill; these when finished were
permitted to roll thundering to its base ; and it is re-
markable that the great stone-shot for this gun, which yet
remain in the castle of Edinburgh, are of Galloway gra-
nite from the same eminence.
At last the vast bombarde or cannon was complete
in all its bars, hoops, and rivets ; it weighed six tons and
a half, exclusive of the carriage, and measured two feet
diameter in the bore.
During its formation, Sir Patrick Gray endured an
mount of mental torture and anxiety which temporary
inaction rendered greater.
"Would Achanna dare to put in execution the terrible
order of the ferocious earl 1 Would her sister, unrelent
ing as she was, permit it 1 He feared that the deed
might be done when the castle surrendered, and his
feverish and active imagination pictured the gentle,
timid, and delicate Murielle writhing in the grasp of an
assassin.
But if some dark deed had not been already done, why
did Achanna place his drawn sword across the mouth of
the page, who was about to speak of Murielle, during the
parlev at the portcullis 1
394
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
Had knighthood and common humanity fallen so low
among those outlaws, that her life would be no longer
safe in her sister's household ; or were the last words of
the dying earl a falsehood, merely meant to sting and em-
bitter the soul of one whom he hated with a tiger's hatred ?
Gray afflicted himself with thoughts and surmises such
as these, and while the siege was pressed by the king
and his troops, his days and nights were passed in misery.
On viewing the great piece of ordnance, James II.
promised again that if it proved more successful than the
Lion and his other eulverins, he would nobly reward the
artificer, who, with his seven sons and the royal cannoniers,
dragged Meg—for so MacKim named the gun, after his
own wife, whose voice, he affirmed, " her roar would
resemble "—to the summit of an eminence which, unto
this day, is named from that circumstance Knockcannon.
Royal heralds with their glittering tabards, and pursui-
vants with their silver collars of SS, marched in front,
while trumpets were blown and kettle-drums beaten ;
pipers blew, and minstrels played upon their harps ; the
king's jester swung his bladder and cracked his jokes;
and thus, amid music, merriment, and acclamations, the
mighty cannon was dragged up the slope and brought into
position.
It was then loaded with an old Scottish peck of powder
and one of its granite balls, and thereafter was levelled
at the fortress of the rebellious Douglases.
" Now—now," exclaimed Malise MacKim, in grim
triumph, as he wiped the beads of perspiration from
his swarthy brow ; " unless my lady of Douglas can fly
through the air like an eagle, or swim down the Dee like
a grilse, she and the false brood who slew my kinsman
and stole his daughter shall exchange their steel gloves
for steel fetters 1"
mowan's meg.
395
All in the king's host were eager to observe the effect
produced by this mighty engine of destruction, the first
discharge of which, when Sir John Romanno applied the
match, seemed to split the welkin, and the recoil of the
wheels tore deep ruts in the turf, while many averred
that they could trace the course of the ball like a great
globe of stone in the air, through which it hummed and
whistled.
Be that as it might, when the smoke was blown aside,
a great breach or opening (now called the cannon-hole)
was visible in the face of the keep, where the side of one
of the windows was partly torn away. The masonry was
seen to fall in a crumbling mass into the bai'bican, and
the shout of consternation which arose from the garrison
was borne on the morning wind to the king's camp, and
far beyond it.
The cannoniers now cast aside their helmets, cuirasses,
and cuisses, that they might work with greater facility
at the laborious task of reloading this great gun, which
was discharged several times with equal success; and Sir
Patrick Gray watched with agony the result of every
shot; for the deep, hoarse boom of each explosion that
seemed to rend the hills and sky found an echo in his
heart. They seemed like the knell of her he loved.
The warlike James II. was in ecstasy with the success
of this new piece of ordnance, and summoning the fabri-
cator to his tent, he then, in presence of the chancellor,
the constable, and the principal nobles, granted to him
Und his heirs for ever, the forfeited estate of Mollance,
which lies between the rivers TJrr and Dee.
Mollance was locally pronounced Mowans, hence the
name of the great gun which he fashioned, and which is
now in the castle of Edinburgh—Mowans Meg ; though
unsupported assertion has assigned her origin to the
396
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
town of Mons, in Flanders—an origin of which there is
not a vestige of documentary proof.
Hastening from the king's tent, Sir Patrick Gray
arrived at Knockcannon in time to see another mass of
masonry beaten down; and this time the feeble shout
from Thrave was drowned in the tumultuous cheer that
rang along the slopes, which were covered by the camp
of the royal army.
"CorJesu, in agonia factum, miserere momentum!"
prayed the voice of one beside him.
He turned, and saw his old friend the abbot, who had
just left his secluded abbey of Tongland and arrived in
the camp.
" Ha, father abbot," said Sir John Romanno, while
six of the sturdiest cannoniers, bare armed and all
begrimed by perspiration, smoke, and gunpowder,
swung another granite ball into Meg's capacious muzzle ;
" how are you ? By the mass! if he you wot of were
in Thrave, this would make him shake his horns and
cry peccavi"
(l He—who ? " asked the abbot, in a tone of displeasure.
" Thy old friend—Mahoun—the fiend himself."
" Shame on thee, Sir John."
" I am but a plain soldier, good abbot,5" replied
Romanno, who was in excellent humour with himself
and every one else ; " each man to his trade : thou to
thy massbook and missal—I to my lintstock and quoin."
" A truce—a truce ! " cried a hundred voices, as a
white flag was displayed at the sfimmit of Thrave, where
a man waved it to and fro, though the Douglas banner
was not yet drawn down. Then came the faint and
distant sound of trumpets craving a parley.
The abbot immediately offered himself as a mediator;
and, on obtaining the permission of tho-king, who was
the parley.
397
now weary of this protracted and destructive siege, and
was anxious to return to his beautiful Fleming at
Stirling, he left the camp for Thrave, accompanied by
Sir Patrick Gray, whose anxiety for the safety of Muriel'io
was now irrepressible.
CHAPTEK LV t
the parley.
Peace, lady; pause, or be more temperate:
It ill beseems this presence to cry aim
To these ill-timed repetitions.
Some trumpet summon hither to the walls
These men of Angiers ; let us hear them speak,
Whose title they admit, Arthur's or John's.
Shakespeare.
Of this interview, during which there occurred one or
two painful episodes, the old abbot has left a minute
account in the MS. records of Tongland Abbey.
As he and Sir Patrick approached the castle-gate, they
could perceive a great circular breach yawning in the
face of the keep, where Meg's shot had beaten in the
masonry. In many places the corbelled battlements
were demolished or mutilated. The barbican wall had
suffered considerably, and many dead bodies, with their
armour buried or crushed by the cannon shot, were
making the place horrible by their ghastly aspect, while
great purple pools and gouts of blood indicated where
others who had been removed had fallen, or where the
wounded had crawled away.
For the first time the terrible gallows-knob was with-
out a victim, the cord which had sustained the last having
pasted during the concussion of the ordnance.
398
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
Through the open gate of the fortress the abbot and
captain of the guard were able to see all these details,
The grating of the portcullis was raised, and in the arch-
way beneath it stood Sir Alan Lauder, the lairds of Pom-
pherston, Cairnglas, Glendoning, James Achanna, and
others, all as usual in their armour, which was dimmed
and dinted now by daily and nightly wear. The soldiers
of the garrison, who crowded about them with their
pikes, axes, crossbows, and arquebuses, seemed hollow-
eyed, wan, and pale. Hunger appeared to have become
familiar to them as danger and death; thus it was eyi-
dent to the captain and abbot that the famous larder of
Thrave, with its twenty-eight cattle, contributed by the
twenty-eight parishes of the surrounding stewardry, was
becoming exhausted ; for the garrison and other inmates
had far exceeded a thousand persons at the commence-
ment of this protracted and destructive siege.
" We have come in the name of mercy and humanity,"
said the abbot, pausing at the gate.
It is well," replied Douglas of Pompherston, in the
hollow of his helmet; " we feared you had come simply
in the name of the king, and we consider him a poor
representative of either."
" In whosesoever name you have come," said Sir Alan
Lauder, "I can treat but with my lord abbot alone."
" And why not with me who am captain of the king's
guard 1 " demanded Gray haughtily, while throwing up
his barred visor.
" Because the blood of Douglas is on your hands, as on
those of your master."
" To save whom that blood was shed, else your earl of
Douglas had died a regicide, as well as an outlawed
traitor. But, whatever terms are given or accepted, I,
Patrick Gray, of Foulis, here, in my own name, demand,
THE PARLEY.
399
that the ruffian named James Achanna be excepted
therefrom, for I have resolved to slay him without mercy,
and, I hope, without remorse, at kirk, at court, at
market, or wherever I come within sword's point of
him, so help me the holy Evangels, and Him who ever
defends the right ! "
Achanna grew pale at these threatening words, and
on seeing the fierce and resolute aspect with which Gray
spoke them ; but recovering, he resumed his malignant
smile, and uttered a scornful laugh.
" Thrave has not yet surrendered," said Sir Alan
Lauder • " and while that white flag waves on its wall,
even Achanna's life must be respected. He has been
loudly recommending a surrender for some days past, if
the young earl, our new chief, came not to our succour,"
added the white-bearded knight with an angry glance.
"Perhaps he may be less eager now, when he learns that
the avenging sword of Sir Patrick Gray awaits him."
" Sir Patrick Gray's hostility is nothing new to me,
neither are his injustice and falsity," replied Achanna
through his clenched teeth, while darting one of his
covert glances full of hate at'Lauder; "so be assured
that I value his wrath as little as you may do, Sir
Alan "
" Then, as old Earl Archibald of Douglas said of
Crichton and the Regent, 'twere fair sport to see a
couple of such fencers yoked together," interrupted the
old knight bluntly, " so please you to step forth six
paces from this gate, and meet him hand to hand, on
foot or horseback, and I shall be your umpire."
" Thanks from my soul, Sir Alan!" exclaimed Gray
with stern joy; " for these words I pledge my honour
that your life, fortune, and family shall be saved and
protected, tide what may with Thrave."
400
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
Achanna bit his nether lip, and without advancing a
pace towards Gray, who had reined back his horse and
drawn his sword as if inviting him, replied doggedly
" I have not forgotten the last orders of the earl, ere
he rode to Stirling ; among others we were to defend
this stronghold to the last, should it ever be attacked,
and to be wary how we risked our lives; but I can now
see that if yonder devil of a great gun continues to
pound and punch us thus we shall be forced to surrender,
lest tile roof of stone descend upon us."
" "Well, and what then 1" asked Lauder bitterly.
" To surrender is to hang."
" Well ?"
"By my soul thou takest it very coolly, Sir Alan
Lauder," said Achanna, glad to change the subject, and
elude Gray's unanswered challenge.
"I do so, Master Achanna, because I foresaw that
when King James entered Galloway, with tbe royal
banner displayed, it would end in hanging for some,
and beheading for others—hanging especially for thee."
" And beheading for thee, so I care not whether we
surrender to night or a week hence."
"You play but ill the jovial desperado," said the Cas-
tellan with contempt, as he turned from him.
" Yet he fights for his own hand and commoditie, as
Hal o' the Wynd fought," said the abbot of Tongland.
" I am weary of this," exclaimed Sir Patrick Gray •
" coward, will you not advance to meet me ? "
" And fight with a flag of truce flying; I am not so
ignorant of the rules of war," replied Achanna, who felt
that the crowd of brave and reckless men about the
castle-gate viewed him with derision ; " My courage has
never failed me, sirs, though I knew the fate in store for
me, as—as "
TiiE PAULEY.
401
" As what, fellow ?" demanded Lauder.
"A follower of the conquered Douglas and his out-
lawed adherents."
" Conquered—outlawed ! " muttered those who heard
him.
" Well, sir, doth not that breach in the castle wall look
as if we shall soon be the first, as surely as we are the
second."
" Jibing villain," exclaimed Lauder, " beware lest I
spare the doomster all trouble, by passing my sword
through thee !"
The Scots of those days had but vague ideas on the sub-
ject of homicide, so Achanna became alarmed, and said:
" Sir Alan Lauder, remember my years of faithful
service."
" And what have those years done for you ? "
" Converted me from a boy to a man."
" From a rascal of one age to a rascal of one more
mature; but thou shalt hang, if Sir Patrick wills it," said
the castellan, with growing wrath; for in fact Achanna,
perceiving that matters were going against his friends,
had found Thrave less comfortable for some time past,
and was anxious to escape or make his peace with the
king.
" Enough of this, sir," said Sir Patrick, sheathing his
sword; " let «is resume the subject of a capitulation."
" The countess—here comes the countess ! " exclaimed
several voices, as the crowd of armed men divided am.
drew back; and Margaret, leaning on the arm of Maud
Douglas of Pompherston, approached. Eagerly and
anxiously Gray looked beyond them, but in vain.
" Oh," thought he in his heart, " where is Murielle?"
The hateful Achanna seemed to divine the thought ;
2 D
402
THE CAPTAIN" OF THE GUARD.
for a cold smile curled his thin white lips, and a colder
still as he surveyed the countess, and remembered the
proud derision with which she had long ago repelled his
boyish affection. The lovely face of Margaret was deadly
pale—white as the ruff or tippet of swansdown, which
guarded her delicate throat and bosom. She was muffled
in a long black dule-weed, or mourning habit, the folds of
which fell to her feet, and on the left shoulder of which
was sewn a white velvet cross. In many places this
sombre garment was spotted by blood !
Her beautiful black eyes were blood-shot, and an un-
natural glare shone in them. She seemed scarcely able
to stand ; thus .old Sir Alan Lauder hurried to her side,
and tenderly placed a mailed arm around her for support.
" Well, Monk, thou who forsook, in his sore extremity,
thy chief and master," she sternly said to the abbot,
" what seek you here 1"
" Douglas was my chief, but not my master. He is in
Heaven," replied the abbot calmly, pointing upward.
" Well, shaven juggler, who hast added his precious
prayers to the cause of the strongest," continued the
imperious beauty, " say what you would, and quickly.
What errand brings you here ?"
" Peace and good will. Oh, madam—madam," ex-
claimed the meek old abbot, stretching his withered and
tremulous hands towards her, " in the name of Heaven
and of mercy end these horrors—an aged man, a priest
of God implores it of you! James and his soldiers have
sworn to take the keys of Thrave at the point of the
sword; but our young king is a knight, alike gentle and
generous, and from yonr hands I am assured he will take
those keys in peace, if peacefully bestowed."
u From my hands," she reiterated, in an unearthly
voice; " alas "
THE PARLEY.
403
" What can she mean?" thought Gray, as a dreadful
idea flashed upon his mind ; " is this sad, this wild and
stern hearing the result of remorse ? can she have
attempted "
He thrust aside the thought, and listened attentively.
" From my right hand—never !" added Margaret,
with hitter emphasis.
' From the hands of whom, then ?"
" My youngest bower-maiden; she deserves the honour,
for her father, Sir. Alan, has made a valiant and vigorous
defence."
" The king would prefer them from the hands of the
Lady Murielle," said Gray, with more anxiety than
caution.
" Speak not to me of Murielle!" exclaimed the
countess, with a shriek, as her head drooped; and she
fainted in the arms of Lauder.
" What has happened—speak for mercy, sirs! what
horror do you conceal from us?" exclaimed Sir Patrick
Gray and the abbot together.
" Look here," said the old knight, in whose keen grey
eyes there mingled a curious expression of commiseration
and ferocity. He drew aside the countess's dule-weed,
and then the Captain of the Guard and the abbot per-
ceived that her white neck was stained with blood, her
shoulder covered with hideous ligatures, and that her
right hand and arm were gone—gone from the elbow !
" Who—what has done this ?" asked Gray, as his
sun-burned cheek grew pale.
" See you, sirs, what the first shot from yonder hellish
engine hath achieved ?" replied Lauder, reproachfully.
" The first,"- reiterated Gray. '
" And I would give the last blood in my heart to have
5 n 9.
404:
THE CAPTAIN W THE GUARD.
the seven makers of it hanging in a bunch from yonder
gallows knob !"
Local history records that this terrible mutilation
occurred when the countess was seated at table in the
hall, through one of the windows of which the great
bullet passed; and some years before the battle of
Waterloo, when Thrave, like several other Scottish
castles, was undergoing repair, as a barrack for French
prisoners, a favourite gold ring which the countess wore
upon the forefinger of her right hand, inscribed Margaret
de Douglas, was found among the ruins, with one of Meg's
granite balls beside it; and the old peasantry in Gal-
loway yet aver, that in this terrible mutilation " the
vengeance of Heaven was evidently manifested, in de-
stroying the hand which had been given in wedlock unto
two near kinsmen." *
By a strange coincidence, or an irresistible fatality, at
the same moment that the countess was borne away, it
came to pass that the man-at-arms who held the white
flag let it drop from the summit of the keep into the
barbican below. Then Sir John Bomanno and his im-
patient cannoniers, perceiving that the flag was gone, and
that some commotion had ensued about the gate of Thrave,
supposed (in those days there were no telescopes), that the
parley was broken, and that violence was offered to tlie
envoys, so a shot was fired from the great brass bom-
barde named the Lion of Flanders.
With a mighty sound, between a whiz and a boom, it
* " This ball is still preserved by a gentleman in the neighbour-
hood, and corresponds exactly in size and quality with those shown
in the castle of Edinburgh, as appertaining to the celebrated Meg,
which are of Galloway granite (from Binnan Hill), the component
parts of which, as geologists are aware, differ in several particulars
from all other granite found in Scotland."—Hist, of Gallov-av. vol. i.
THE PARLEY.
405
passed betwixt Sir Patrick Gray and the abbot, entered
the archway, and, by a singular combination of retributive
justice and fatality, struck James Achanna just at the
girdle, and doubling him up like a crape scarf, literally
plastered his body, armour and all, a quivering mass of
blood, bones, steel plates and splints, upon the wall of
the keep, into which it was imbedded.
The white pennon was again hoisted ; bub this terrible
episode and appalling spectacle hastened the conclusion of
the truce and the siege.
" Bid King James ride to the gate of Thrave, and a
woman's hand shall give him the keys—withered be mine
in its socket ere it shall do so !" said the sturdy old
laird of the Bass, as he broke his sword across his right
knee, and cast the glittering fragments into the moat,
just as he had done after the seizure of Earl William, in
the castle of Edinburgh.
" What terms seek you ? " asked the abbot.
"The lives, the liberties, and fortunes of all."
" The king is merciful, and in his name we promise
these shall be given to you," replied the two envoys,
as they returned with all haste to Knockcannon, where
the king was still on horseback, attended by Crichton,
Glammis, and the principal lords of his council and
army.
" You have promised over much, my good friends,"
said he, on hearing the terms and the relation of what
had passed at the castle gate ; " yet it would ill become
me to bruise the bruised. I cannot restore this gallant
dame's dainty right arm; but by the Black Rood of Scot-
land, I can wed her to a more loyal husband, with the
hand she still possesses ! "
And Kins James kept his word.
406
the captain of the guakd.
CHAPTER LVIL
the FALL OF THRiVE.
Song sinks into silence,
The. story is told ;
The windows are darken'd,
The hearthstone is cold.
Darker and darker
The black shadows fall;
Sleep and oblivion reign over all.
Longfellow.
" When your majesty's ancestor, Malcolm III., of
valiant memory, received the keys of the castle of Aln-
wick, remember what occurred," said the wary and
suspicious old chancellor.
" Malcolm was slain," replied the king.
" Ry foul treachery. The Saxon garrison yielded, and
the keys were to be presented on the point of a knight's
lance ; but at the moment of doing so, the knight, like a
mansworn traitor, pierced King Malcolm's eye and brain
with his weapon and slew him on the spot. He escaped,
but from the deed assumed a name—hence comes the
Pierce-eye of Northumberland."
" But what of all this ? I do not think I have much
cause to fear our poor countess now."
" She has one hand left, and it can hold a dagger, I
doubt not."
" Oh, good my lord, I shall not be unprepared for any
emergency," said James laughing, as, accompanied by Sir
Patrick Gray and fifty selected men-at-arms of his guard,
he rode forward to Thrave, the earl of Errol following
closely with at least a thousand knights and gentlemen,
mounted and armed in full panoply.
The armour of the young king was beautifully engrained
THE FALL OF THRAVE.
407
with gold. He wore a casquetel, which in lieu of visor
had two oriellets, or oval plates, to protect the ears. It
was encircled by a gold coronet, and had a crenel, or
spike, in which a plume of scarlet and yellow feathers
waved, and to which the queen's glove was tied. The
hanging sleeves of his surcoat were richly embroidered
by Mary's hands; and his whole arms, costume, and
horse-trappings glittered with singular brilliance in the
sunshine of the evening, as he caracoled over the green
sward towards the embattled gate of Tlirave.
On his breast sparkled the collar and jewel of the
Golden Fleece of Burgundy, which Duke Philip the Good
had just sent to him, in charge of Messire Jacques de
Lalain, Dyck Graf of Bommel, who with his train had
reached the camp only on the preceding evening. This
order had been instituted by Philip himself in 1429.
"When the king was within twenty paces of the gate of
Tlirave, it was unclosed, and a lady, attended by a group
of the countess's bower-maidens, the tall and dark-eyed
Maud of Pompherston, the Caillan Buae, and the fair-
haired daughters of Sir Alan Lauder, the castellan, all
clad in dule-weeds of black cloth with white crosses on
their breasts in memory of the late earl, aud all wearing
hoods and veils, came slowly and timidly forward, like a
procession of nuns.
On seeing them, James at once sprung from his horse,
the reins of which he gave to the Master of Crichton, his
page. Gray, and other attendants, immediately dis-
mounted, and leading their horses by the bridle, kept
near the king, before whom the principal lady, after
advancing a pace or two in front of her companions,
knelt, saying in a low and broken voice, " In the name of
mercy and St. Bryde of Douglas, receive these keys."
She bowed her graceful head, at the same time up-
408 the captain op the guard.
holding, with hands of charming form and whiteness, the
three great iron keys of the castle of Thrave.
;£ And in the name of good St. Bryde, and of gentle
mercy, sweet lady, we accept of them," said the king,
handing them to his master of the ordnance ; " and once
again we pledge our royal word for the promised terms—
life, liberty, and fortune—to all who have withstood our
cannon here in Thrave. But rise, madam," added the king,
" it ill becomes a gentleman to receive a lady thus."
With one hand he raised her, and with the other lifted
up her long black veil,—for James II. was not devoid oi
that admiration of beauty, which was one of the chief
characteristics of his chivalrous family.
" Murielle !" exclaimed Sir Patrick Gray, starting
forward on beholding her face.
" Your long-lost wife?" said James, with surprise.
" My wedded wife—Oh, Murielle——"
" Then to your wardship, Sir Patrick, I must consign
this rebel Douglas, but on one condition "
"Oh name it, your majesty!" said Gray, who was
almost speechless with emotion.
" That you keep her for life, either at court or in your
tower of Foulis," replied the king, laughing, as he placed
Murielle's hand in that of Gray, amid murmurs of
applause and satisfaction, in which all the knights, nobles,
and even the grim old chancellor joined.
Murielle Douglas was beautiful as ever; but the pure
breeze of early autumn that came down t1"* vale of the
Dee, the exciting scene, and the great presence in which
she stood, alike failed to impart a red tinge to her pale
cheek, and even her rosebud lip had lost its usual carna-
tion hue.
In short, poor Murielle had evidently suffered much in
mind and body; for the years of blisht and anxiety she
THE EArii OF THRAVE.
409
had spent in gloomy Thrave had not v >n without a
natural influence upon a spirit so timid and gentle ; and
now; as she wept upon her husband's breast, she neither
heard nor heeded the acclamations which rose from the
king's camp, with the roar of culverins from Knock-
cannon and the Carlinwark, as they greeted the appear-
ance of the royal standard which Sir John Romanno
hoisted on the great keep of Thrave, the now humbled
stronghold of her forefathers, the mighty lords of Gallo-
way.
EPILOGUE.
Not long after these events the new earl of Douglas
was reconciled to - James II., and though both parties
were insincere—their mutual injuries being too deep and
too recent—there was peace in the kingdom for a time.
Inspired by a sentiment of revenge for the death of
their chief in Thrave, the MacLellans long refused to lay
aside their swords, and for years continued to commit
such dreadful outrages upon the Douglases and their
adherents that James outlawed the new laird of Bombie
and all his followers ; but during his reign they rewon
their possessions in the following remarkable manner.
A band of outlaws or wild rovers, said by some autho-
rities to have been Saracens or Moors, but who were more
probably Irishmen, as their leader was named Black
Murrough, landed in Galloway and committed such de-
vastations that the king, by a royal proclamation, offered
the forfeited lands of Bombie to any knight or man,
however humble, who could kill or capture this terrible
straT\gerj of whose stature, strength - and ferocity the most
410
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD.
startling stories were told, for tlie marvellous was a great
element in those days.
In a wild place, near where the old castle of Bombie
stood, there is a spring which flows now, as perhaps it
flowed a thousand years before the epoch of our story.
The bare-feneed and bare-armed Celts of Galwegia, and
the. helmeted and kilted warriors of Borne, have drunk
of it. With its limpid waters, St. Cuthbert, whose church
was built close by, baptized the first Christians of the
district in the name of Him who died on Calvary; and
ir later and less-peaceful times, the fierce Lag and
Claverhouse have drunk of it, with their gauntleted
hands, when in pursuit of the persecuted Covenanters,
by hill and loch and the shores of the Solway.
It chanced that Sir William, the outlawed nephew of
Sir Thomas MacLellan, was wandering near this well, on
a day when the banks of the Dee were changing in tint
and aspect under the genial sunshine and warm showers
of spring, when the trees were putting forth their young
and fragrant blossoms, and when the blackbird and the
rose-linnet sang among the thickets that overhung the
river.
Full of those sad and bitter thoughts which were
naturally induced by the outlawry and proscription of his
family, the young heir of Bombie approached the spring
to drink, and lo ! ijear it there lay, fast asleep, a rough and
gigantic man, whose form exhibited wondrous strength
and muscle, and by his side - lay an Irish war-club, the
knotty head of which was studded with Bharp iron spikes.
He was the leader of the strange devastators,—he, for
whose life King James had offered the castle and heritage
of Bombie.
MacLellan drew near, and by a single stroke of his
double-handed sword, shred off the great head of the
THE FALL OF THBAVE.
411
terrible sleeper, and grasping it by its tbick black locks of
matted bair, be conveyed it without delay to tbe king,
who, in terms of bis proclamation, immediately restored
to bim tbe forfeited lands of Bombie, and from that day
tbe MacLellans assumed as a crest, tbe bead of a savage
on tbe point of a sword, with tbe motto—" Think' on."
Tbe scene of this episode bears to this day the double
name of Bombie's "Well, and the Wood of Black Mur-
rough.
Broken in spirit, tbe proud Countess Margaret, whilom
tbe Fair Maid of Galloway, condescended at last to seek
tbe forgiveness and protection of King James II., after
which, as she was still tbe loveliest woman of her time,
be bestowed her in marriage upon bis half brother, John,
earl of Atbole, son of the late Queen Jane and of tbe
Black Knight of Lorn, who perished so miserably in
Flanders.
Bobert, duke of Albany, died in exile, and no man in
Scotland ever knew where be found a grave; but Sir
Patrick Gray and Murielle lived long and happily. We
know not which survived tbe other. He was created a
peer of tbe realm by the title of Lord Balronald, and
received the captaincy of the royal castle of Lochmaben,
which he defended valiantly against the English in the
year 1460, during that war in which James II. perished
by the bursting of a cannon at the siege of Boxburgh,
when standing by the side of Sir John Bomanno, near
the old Thorn Tree, at Fleurs.
William Lord Crichton, the wily and somewhat un-
scrupulous old chancellor, died in peace in 1455, at his own
stately castle in Lothian, and lies interred in the old
church near it.
His aged compatriot, Sir Alexander Livingstone, died
about the same time, after securing a peerage for his son,
412
THE CAPTAIN OP THE fcUABD.
the captain of Stirling, who was created Lord Livingstone
of Callendar, and Great Chamberlain of Scotland.
We need scarcely inform the reader that the worthy
abbot of Tongland never succeeded in his great project
concerning the Master of Evil, whom he wished to destroy
as an enemy by making him a friend; though in after-years
a poor Capuchin of Yenice revived the idea, by petitioning
the states of that republic, and also the pope, on the
same subject, and had the reward of being viewed by both
as a—madman.
The beautiful young queen, Mary d'Egmont of Gueldres,
only survived her husband three years.
It was our strange fortune to behold her remains/
previous to their re-interment at Holyrood, in May, 1848/
when nothing remained of those charms which sh^f
inherited from the houses of Cleves, Burgundy, and
Gueldres, save her teeth, which, after having been three
hundred and eighty-five years in the grave, were singularly
white and regular.
WYMAN AND SONS, PRINTERS, GREAT QTTEEN STREET, LONDON,
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Newton Forster.
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Percival Keene.
Valerie.
Frank Mildmay.
Olla Podrida.
Monsieur Violet.
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Windsor Castle.
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Rookwood.
Old St. Paul's.
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The Pioneers.
The Red Rover.
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Lionel Lincoln.
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Guy Fawkes.
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James the Second.
Star Chamber.
Flitch of Bacon.
I Lancashire Witches.
Mervyn Clitheroe.
Ovingdean Grange.
St. James's.
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J. FENIMORE COOPER.
The Waterwitch.
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Satanstoe.
Afloat and Ashore.
Wyandotte.
Eve Effingham.
Miles Wallingford.
The Headsman.
The Prairie.
Homeward Bound.
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Ileidenmauer.
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Mark's Reef.
Ned Myers.
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Doctor Basilius.
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Memoirs of a Phy-
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Queen's Necklace.
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Emma.
Ennui.
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Nanon.
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2vols. {is. each).
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The Ambassador's Wife.
By JANE AUSTEN.
, I Pride and Prejudice. I
| Sense and Sensibility. |
By MARIA EDGEWORTH.
Vivian. | The Absentee,
The Conspirators.
Ascanio. [Savoy.
Page of the Duke of
Isabel of Bavaria.
Beau Tancrede.
Regent's Daughter.
Pauline.
Catherine Blum.
Ingenue.
Russian Gipsy. 1
Watchmaker.
Mansfield Park.
| Manoeuvring.
Published bv George Routledere and Sons.
«
NOVELS AT ONE SHILLING.—Continued.
By HAWTHORNE.
The Scarlet Letter.
The House of the Seven Gables.
Mosses from an Old Manse.
By GERALD GRIFFIN.
The Munster Festival?.
The Rivals.
The Colleen Bawn.
Jane Sinclair.
Claris; A£t.
By WILLIAM CARLETON.
I Fardarougha. I The Tithe Proctor.
I The Emigrants. |
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Stories of Waterloo.
Violet, the Danseuse.
Kindness in Women.
The Old Commodore.
Cinq Mars.
Zingra the Gipsy.
Pride of the Mess.
Henpecked Husband.
Family Feud.
Nothing but Money.
Tom Jones.
VARIOUS AUTHORS.
Vicar of Wakefield. Nicholas's Notes, by
A Week with Mossoo,
by Charles Ross.
Miss Tomkins' In-
tended, by Arthur
Sketchley.
A Sailor's Adventures.
Love Tales.
PublicS chool Matches
Turf Frauds and Prac-
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W. J. Prowse.
Out for a Holiday, by
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Sterne's Works.
The Mountaineer of
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Mayo.
Two Years before the
Mast.
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Roughing It. By Mark Twain.
(Copyright).
The Innocents at Home. By Mark
Twain. Sequel to above. (Copyright).
The Hoosier Schoolmaster. By
E. Eggleston.
Maum Guinea: A Love Story of
Slave Life. By Metta V. Victor.
A Curious Dream, and other
Sketches. By Mark Twain.
TWO SHILLINGS.
By Mark
By
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Twain.
The New Pilgrim's Progress.
Mark Twain.
The End of the World. By
Edward Eggleston, Author of "The
Hoosier Schoolmaster."
The Mystery of Metrrpolisville.
By Edward Eggleston.
Mrs. Skaggs's Husbands. By
Bret Harte.
Little Women. By I,. M. Alc&tt.
Little Women Married. By ditto.
The Lamplighter. Miss Cummins.
A Lady's Life among the Mor-
mons.
Roughing It, and The Innocents
at Home. By Mark Twain.
Prose and Poetry. By Bret Harte.
Mark Twain's Sketches.
The Innocents Abroad, and New
Pilgrim's Progress. By Mark Twain.
The Poet at the Breakfast Table.
By Oliver Wendell Holmes.
Prudence Palfrey. By T. B. Aid-
rich.
Out of the Hurly Burly. By Max
Adeler.
The Gilded Age. By Mark Twain
and C. D. Warner.
The Circuit Rider. By Edward
Eggleston.
Published by George Routledge and Sons.
ROUTLEDGE'S SIXPENNY NOVELS.
By CAPTAIN MARRYAT.
The King's Own. i T>acna of Many Tales. Frank Mildmay.
Peter Simple. i Newton Forster. Midshipman Easy,
Jacob Faithful. Japhet in Search of a The Dog Fiend.
I Father.
The Waterwitch.
The Pathfinder.
The Deerslayer.
Last of the Mohicans.
The Pilot.
The Prairie.
Eve Effingham,
The Spy.
The Red Rover.
By J. F. COOPER.
Homeward Bound.
The Two Admirals.
Miles Wallingford.
The Pioneers.
Wyandotte.
Lionel Lincoln.
Afloat and Ashore.
The Bravo.
The Sea Lions.
The Pleadsman.
Precaution.
Oak Openings.
The Heidenmauer,
Mark's Reef.
Ned Myers.
Satanstoe.
The Borderers,
Jack Tier.
Mercedes.
By Sir WALTER SCOTT.
Guy Mannering.
The Antiquary.
Ivanhoe.
The Fortunes of Nigel.
Rob Roy.
Kenilworth.
The Pirate.
The Monastery.
Old Mortality.
Peveril of the Peak.
Heart of Midlothian.
The Bride of Lam-
mermoor.
Waverley.
Quentin Durward.
St. Ronan's Well.
Legend of Montrose,
and Black Dwarf.
I The Abbot.
I Woodstock.
> Redgauntlet.
I Count Robert of Paris.
The Talisman,
j Surgeon's Daughter.
Fair Maid of Perth.
Anne of Geiexstein.
The Betrothed.
By VARIOUS
Robinson Crusoe:
Uncle Tom's Cabin. Mrs.Stowe.
Colleen Bawn. Gerald Griffin.
The Vicar of Wakefield.
Sketch Book. Washington Irving.
Tristram Shandy. Sterne.
S entimental J ourney. Sterne.
The English Opium Eater.
De Quincy.
Essays of Elia. Charles Lamb.
Roderick Random. Smollett.
Autocrat of the Breakfast Table.
Tom Jones. 2 vols. Fielding.
AUTHORS.
Artemus Ward, his Book.
A. Ward among the Mormons.
The Nasby Papers.
Major Jack Downing.
The Biglow Papers.
Orpheus C. Kerr.
The Wide, Wide World.
Queechy.
Gulliver's Travels.
The Wandering Jew. (3 vols.)
The Mysteries of Paris. (3 vols.)
The Lamplighter.'
Professor at the Breakfast Table.
Published by George Routledge and Sons.
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