n THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA THE YELLOW FRIGATE OR THE THREE SISTERS BY JAINIES GRANT AUTHOR OF " TKE FOMAXCE OF WAr" LONDON GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS, Limited NEW YORK : E. P. BUTTON AND CO. o^aN Libra e r ^ . INTRODUCTION. Xir that broad and magnificent valley which separates tli« chain of the Grampians from the Ochil Mountains, clo8« by the margin of the Allan, and sequestered among vener- able trees, lies the pleasant and peaceful little village of Dunblane, in Scotland's elder days an old cathedral city. Northward of the limpid Allan lie purple heaths, black swamps, and desert muirs. An old bridge which spans the river, and was built in the time of King Robert III., by "the Most Reverend Father in God," Findiay Dermach, bishop of the see, ^ith a few ancient houses, having quaint chimneys and crow-stepped gables, that peep on the steep brae-side from among the shady beeches, are all that survive of Dunblane ; but over those remains rise the grey ruins of Kuig David's vast cathedral. of which nothing now is standing but the roofless nave, with its shattered aisles, and the crumbling but lofty gothic tower. The gleds and oorbies that flap their wings between ths deserted walls ; the swallows that twitter on the carved pillars, or build their nests among the rich oakwork of the prebends' stalls, with the grass-grown floor *r'^ empty mndows of this magniflceut ruin, impress the mind of Um mi^ODTTCTIOW risitor with that melancholy which is congenial to such a place. But it is neither the recumbent figure of a knight in armour, with his sword and triangular shield, marking where the once powerful Lord of Strathallan sleeps, noi the burial-place of the Dukes of Athol, blazoned with the lilver star of the Mui-rays, that are the most interesting features in this old ruin. It is not the fine west window which overlooks thi urooded path that winds by the river-side, and is known aa *' the Good Bishop's walk," nor the ruined shrine where sleeps St. Blane of Bute— he whose boat sailed upon the Clyde without sail or oar; he who (as the veracious Breviajy of Aberdeen tells us) struck fire with his fingers when the vesper lights went out ; and who raised from the dead the English heir of Appleby and Trodyngham, that attract most particularly the attention of visitors, but three plain slahs of blue marble, that lie side by sidp on the grassy floor, and nestling, as it were, together, as if to show that those they cover had loved each other in life too well to be separated even in death. The fall of the ponderous and once magnificent roof; the action of the weather, and the footsteps of visitors, have defaced the legends that were originally carved there; but the memory of those who sleep below these marble Jabs yet lingers in Dunblane and Strathearn. Under the first lies the affianced bride of one who was h good and valiant soldier, and faithful to his king. Under the second lies the betrothed of a stout Scottish mariner, as brave a fellow f*" ever faced salt wa1/;r or can- Don-shot. niTBODUCTIOir. ^ Under the third sleeps the youngest — she who perhaps vas the fairest — the wife (but not the queen) of one who m his time was the most gallant and magnificent monarch that ever wore the Scottish diadem. These three ladies were sisters ; and their story is a itrange and a dark one. History, tradition, and an old manuscript, that waa To and (no matter when) among the Records of the Scot- tish Court of Admiralty, have enabled me to lay their live/ Bfid narrative before the reader in the following pagj«. CONTENTS. MUfniB CAM L OH BOARD ......««••*•. 4 . 11 H THJB SWASHBUOELES •>«..• 18 III. BONNT DUNDEIS ...•••.,.«..• 24 IV. THE SISTEB8 . . • . , , v 32 V. JAME3 ni «.....«.•. 36 TI. PALACE OF SAINT MARGARET . . , ,.»•*• 44 Til. MARGARET DRUMIIGND ...«»»,«.., 47 VIII. THE FISHERMAN OF BROUGHTY . , 52 IX. THE BANE OF SCOTLAND , . , . , 58 X. THE boatswain's YARN .....,.,'., 65 XI. CHAINING THE UNICORN ...,,. 78 XU. EMBASSY OF THE SIEUR DE MONIPENNIE . , ^ , . 88 XIII. TO SEA ! , .... 95 XIV. THE OGRE OP ANGUS , , , lOS XV. CONCLAVE OF MALCONTENTS ......... 110 XVI. ANOTHER SON-IN-LAW ,.;;., 11> XVII. THE WARLOCK OF BALWEARIB , . . , 124 XVIII. FATHER AND SON , . , 133 XIX. HOW BORTHWICK FULFILLED HIS PROMISE . . , . . 140 XX. WOOD MEETS HOWARD 146 XXI. THE PRICE OF THREE TENEMENTS ...... 149 XXII. THE SILKEN CORD , • . 156 XXIII. LORD DRUMMOND AND &0££RT BARTON , .- . «. .166 SLXIV. DAVID FALCONER <. . , « . * 173 rlfi CONTENTS. CHAPTSB XXV, HOWARD AND MARGARET . . , XXVI, THE CHAPLAIN'6 CABIN . . , XXVII. THE ISLES OF THE FORTH . . XXVIII. THE FIRST SCOTTISH REVOLUTIOIT XXIX. THE MARCH TO STIELlWJi XXX. THE GOOD SHIP HARRI . * XXXI. THE TORWOOD XXXII. THE DOUBLE BRIBE . , . XXXIII. THE GREY HORSE .... XXXIV. THE BATTLE OF SAUCHIEBUBN XXXV. THE FOUR HORSEMEN . . XXXVI. THE MILL ON THE BANNOCK XXXVn. THE REGICIDES .... tXXVIII. THE HOUSE OF THE BARTONS XXXIX. THE PRINCE AND THE ADMIRAL XL. CLEARED FOR ACTION XLI. THE ENGLISH BOAT . . XLIL THE LOVER AND THE SPY XLIII. THE BATTLE OFF THE MAY XLIV. LARGO XLV. ST. ANTHONY'S BELL . . XLVI. THE GUNNER .... XLVII, BORTHWICK'S new MISSION XLVIII. TIBS HOWFF .... XLIX. THE king's WARK . . . L. THE (SUMMER SPEAT . . LI. LADY EFFIE's LETTER Lll. THE HERMIT OP LORETTO Lin. THE TRYSTE AT LORETTO LIV. THE WEIRDWOMAN'S TREE LV. THE ESCAPE .... LVI. THE UNICORN LOOSE . . LVII. OAMBUSKENNETH . . . LVIU. DOUBT, PZAR, AND SECIIECT FAG] . 176 . 181 . 187 . 190 . 199 . 205 . 214 , 218 . 222 . 227 - 233 . 237 . 241 . 244 . 251 . 257 . 261 . 266 . 269 . 278 . 284 . 289 . 296 . 300 . 305 . 310 . S1& . 324 . 330 . 334 . 343 . 646 . d54 . S5i OOllTBMTa It LII. REDNITED LX. LONDON IN 1488 . . . LXI. THE admiral's STORY— THE LEGEND 07 OOBA LYNN LXII. STORY CONTINDED — " ERIS-KENB I LXm. THE BROKEN WEDDING-RINO LXrV. THE BATTLE OFF FIFENESS LXV. THE ENGLISH PRISONERS LXVI. THE STANE BICKER . . LXVn. THE MAUOHLINE TOWER LXVIII. DUNBLANE ..... LXIX. THE MIDNIGHT TRYSTE . IXX. THE IRON BELT . . . hXXl. CONCLUSION . , . o iroiKS .•••»• fAoa 861 , 366 370 379 390 , 399 , 406 , 409 416 420 4£2 . 428 433 436 THE BELLOW FRIGATEi 0&, THE THEEE SISTERS. CHAPTER L ON BOABD. * There wag a ship at morning prlin^ The Scottish shore forsook, And southward with a favouring gal* Her rapid course she took : Her mast St. Andrew's banner bear*, And heaven be now her speed ! For with her goes the bravest knight That Scotland hath in need." Ballads akd Lav*3. By the fragment of a log-book, which was found among the MSS. just referred to, we are informed that on Beltane day, in the year of Grace 1488, two Scottish ships of war, the Yellow Frigate and the Queeji Margaret, were lying becalmed off the mouth of the Tay, about seven miles from the Gaa Sands, and three from the Inchcape Rock, the large beU of which was heard at times, as its sonorous notes floated over the stiU bosom of thi wat€r. An abbot of St. Thomas at Arbroath had hung it there, on a wooden frame, to indicate by night that ghastly ridge, so long the terror of mariners; and thus as the waves rose and fell, they swung it to and fro. Water will convey sound to a vast iiritance ; thus, in the noon of a calm May day, the notes of the Inchcape bell were distinctly heard on board of the two ships of fcis Majesty James III., although they were three miles distant Irom the reef. A groundswell came oflf the dangerous sands of Abertay ; the sails of the caravels flapped lazily against the masts, as the hulls rolled from side to side slowly and heavily, for there was so little wind that neither would obey her helm, but lay like a lo;{ on ths water. 18 THE YELLOW FBIGATE. The fertile shores of Fife and Angus were shrouded in hazy iummer mist, above which peeped the bare scalp of the Law oi Dundee. Noon passed, and still the swell came rolling in long, gkvssy, and monotonous ridges from the land, while the bur- nished sea seemed smooth, as if coated over with oil. The ships lay about half a mile apart; and the Yellow i^Wya^e, with which we have more particularly to do, was nearest to the shore. A young officer who was pacing to and fro on her poop, gazed frequently and impatiently at the mouth of the river, and after wearying himself by whistling for the lagging wind, tossing splinters of lighted wood into the water, and watching anxiously the dii'ection taken by the puffs of smoke or steam, he suddenly flapped his hands. " Ahoy there, mizen-top! Barton," he exclaimed to an officer who had ascendfd into the mizen-rigging, "there is a breeze Betting in from the east." " Right, Falconer," replied the other ; " I can see it curling the water over the Inchcape ; and it comes in time, for I was beginning to bethink me of some other trade, for this of sailor requires overmuch patience for me. So-ho ! here it comes !" he continued, while descending the ratlins with the activity of • squirrel. " See how the sea wrinkles before it !" " Now the canvas fills," said Falconer, looking aloft. " The Queen Margaret has caught it already, and now old Mathieson squares his yards. Aha! he is an active carle; always on the look-out, and his messmates jump like crickets when his whistle blows." The person thus eulogized, we find to have been Sir Alexander Mathieson, a rich merchant- skipper of Leith, who had become captain of a king's ship, and won the name of " King of the Sea," " Keep her away, timoneer," said Barton ; " keep he? away yot — a point or two to the south." " Why so," asked Falconer, " when she lies so wellP™ '* Because, in entering the harbour of Dundee, we must keep the north gable of St. Clement's kirk upon the bar, and on the north-west, right over against Brouglity, else we shall run upon Hie Drummilaw Sands ; and then not St. Clement himself, nor nis blessed anchor to boot, would save us. Master gunner- Willie Wad — please to infomi Sir Andi-ew that a breeze is springing up ; but that I see nothing of my father's ship, th» Unicorn y at anchor in the Firth." " Art thou sure P" said Falconer, anxiously. " Sure ! T would know her by her red poop-lanterns and Mjuare rigging among a thousand ships." ON BOARD. 13 Robert Barton, who was captain of the ship, hastened to get Bail made on her ; and as the breeze freshened, the yards were ahnost squared ; the notes of the luchcape bell died away, and both vessels stood slowly into that beautiful estuary formed by the conlluence of the Tay with the German Sea. The sailors, who, during the calm, had been lounging laaily on deck, or basking in the sunshine between the brass guns, ex- changed their listlessness for activity ; a smile of satisfaction spread over their weather-beaten visages, and a hum of gladness arose from the ship. " Now, timoneer, the breeze is more aft," cried Barton ; " steer dead for the harbour mouth." " Soho ! " said Falconer, " the Margaret is coming up with us, hand over hand." " Fear not," replied Bai-ton, joyously, " we shall soon leave her far astern. Thou knowest, Falconer, that this good caravel was built under Sir Andrew's own eyes at the New Haven, near Leith," continued the captain, surveying with a seaman's pro- verbial delight the lofty rigging of the frigate. " Yet, she is but a cockle-shell to the great ship of Hiero, anent which, Father Zuill, the chaplain, told us so many won- derful things after mass yesterday." " If you had seen how beautifully she took the water, diving deep with her stern, and tilting up her bow like a swan. She is sharp as a lance at the bows below the water line — bold above it ; straight between poop and forecastle — clean in the counter, and bolted with copper. By the faith of Barton, there sails not such another ship in all Scottish waters ; and I marvel mickle, if either French Francis, or English Harry, will ever build one like her." The ship which Captain Barton eulogised so highly would create no small speculation in Bonny Dundee, if she and her consort were seen standing before the wind, right up the Firth of Tay, in this year 1855 ; and we may imagine the criticisms of the rough old tars, who usually congregate about the piers and rocks of Brougbty Ferry. Her whole hull was painted hrilliayit yellow ; hence the name, that has won her a place so conspicuous in the histories of the period. Both vessels seemed comparatively low in the waist, for their gigantic poops and forecastles rose like wooden towers above the sea ; and to render this simile more complete, were furnished with little wooden tourelles at the inner angles. Elaborate carving and gorgeous gilding covered the hulls above the water-line ; and amid thii, grinned the great carthouns or forty-eight pounders ; the brass culverins and falconets, tier aboye tier. The port-lids (4 THE Yteiil-OW FEIGATE. were painted a flaming red; three gigantic lantetfis, with tops of polished brass, surmounted each of the poops, which had round theu' sterns and quaiters a gaudy row of painted shields, bearing the armorial blazons of the gentlemen who served on board, Eound the butt of each mast stood a rack of long Scottish speara and hand-guns, into the tubes of which were inserted the haft* of Jedwood axes. The Yelloio Caravel or frigate carried fifty guns ; the Man' garet, twenty. Both were ship rigged, with three masts, each of these being composed of two long tapered spars, fidded at the tops, which were clumsy and basket-like enclosm-es, surrounded by little embrasures, from whence the cross-bowmen, pages, and arquebussiers, could gall the enemy in secui'ity. From the carved bows, the bowsprits started up at an angle of forty-five degrees ; and each had rigged thereon a lesser or fourth mast, having a great square spritsail before. At the yard-ar?W5 were iron hooks to grasp an enemy's rigging. All the sails were large and square. At her mainmast head, each vessel carried the flag of the admiral, a golden tree in a blue field ; while at the stern waved the blue national ensign, with the great white cross of St. Andrew, extending from corner to corner. The summer sun of this fair Beltane day shone joyously on the glassy water, on the glittering hulls and snow-white canvas of these stately caravels, as they neared those green headlands which form the entrance to one of the noblest of the Scottish firths = On the south the shore is bold and rocky ; there, round its old peel, now in ruins, clustered the little village of Port-on-Craig, whose population lived by fishing and managing the boats of the ferry (the oldest in the kingdom), which plied between Fife and the opposite point, where, on a bare and unwooded promontory stands the Royal Castle of Broughty, a strong, square tower, then surrounded by a barbican and other defences, which frowned towards the ocean on the east, defending the narrow strait from hostile fleets, and on the west, towards a dreaiy salt-marsh, that stretched almost from the outer walls to the gates of busy Dundee. The dresses of the officers and crews of the ships of James III. were as remarkable as the aspect of their craft; for Robert Barton, who was sailing master or captain, and Su- David Fal- coner, who was captain of the arquebussiers, wore doublets or pourpoints of grey velvet, cut very short, with slit sleeves, to show the loose white shirts below ; their shoulders were padded oat with malioitreSy or large pufls ; they wore tight hose of Flanders cloth, with long boots that came up to their knees. They had swords and daggers of great length and flat blue bon' ON BOAHD. 15 nets; at tlie end of his gold neckchain, the sailor carried a whistle; but the soldier had a cross and medal; and, as a protec- tion from salt water, each wore an overall, or rough surcoat of Galloway frieze, trimmed with brown fur. The sailors wore gaberdines of the same coarse material, with fustian breeches, blue bonnets, and shoes of undressed deerskin, which in those da^^s won us the strange appellation of rough- footed Scots. Willie Wad, the gunner, and Archy of Anster, the boatswain, only, wore doublets of Flemish cloth, edged with silver lace, and with the ro3'al crest, the crown and lion sejant, embroidered on the sleeves thereof. The arquebussiers, of whom there were a hundi'ed and fifty on board, wore steel casquetels, with large oval ear-plates, buff coats, and broad military belts, which sustained their dirks, primmg-horns, bullet-bags, and the spanners of their long-barrelled arquebusses. Such was the general aspect of the ships and crews of lik Majesty James III. Barton and Falconer were both stout and athletic young men, but were somewhat difierent in aspect and bearing ; for the for- mer, who was a son of the admiral, Sir Andi-ew Barton, or Barnton, of that Ilk in Lothian, the wealthy Leith merchant, who had acquired a splendid fortune, and purchased a fine estate, was a florid and jovial-looking young seaman, with something of the Cavalier in his aspect ; but Falconer, who had no fortune but his sword, had been introduced to the royal favour by the late Earl of Mar — the murdered favourite of James III., who knighted the youth for his valour at the siege of Dunbar in 1478, when but a stripling. Thus, though a knight, and captain of one of the king's bands, he was but the son of a poor merchant - skipper of Borrowstoness ; yet he was a handsome and a stately youth ; his eyes, hair, and complexion were dark, and his iharply pointed mustachios stuck fiercely off on each side of his \nouth. " A boat has shot off from Broughty," said he, shading his eyes with his right hand ; " and two stout fellows are pulling for the ship as if their lives depended upon their speed." " Keep to larboard of the Margaret," cried Barton to the tirnoneer ; " for she di'aws less water of course, and we require all the fairway to oui'selves. Keep her away — see how the sur( curls on the Gaa Sands !" At that moment, a door, which was studded with iron nails like that of an old tower, opened in the after pai-t ol the poop, and the sentinels saluted with their arquebusses aa the admiral stepped on deck, and first cast his eyes aloft and the» nhead. i8 THE YELLOW FRIG ATE. " Keep her full, Barton," said he, " keep her full. So, the old Tay now opens her arras to us ! and now the spires of St. Cle- * ment and St. Mary are in sight again. Gadzooks, I can see the Rock of St. Nicholas, and if I had thine eyes, Falconer, I might distinguish the great house of Stobhall." Falconer only twisted his mustachios, and smUed, but with a lomhre aspect. " How, Sir Andrew," said Barton, " you think the eyes of i> mariner " " Are but gi'een glass when compared to those of a lover — ^yea I do," laughed the good old admiral, as he walked to the quarter, looked over the side, and whistled to the freshening breeze ; thus he failed to observe the ill-concealed gesture of impatience that ^scaped Sir David Falconer, and the bitter smile he exchanged with Barton. Sir Andrew Wood of Largo, admiral of the fleet of James III, —the Scottish Nelson of his time — was originally a wealthy merchant of Leith, where In early life he was as well known In the Timber Holfe as at Sluice and the Dam. He had first been merely a merchant-skipper, who fought his own way at sea, but he had done so with such signal success, and had so frequently defeated the fleets of Edward IV. of England, and of Alfonso, King of Portugal, and the pirates of many nations, that he was knighted on his own deck by James III., who never omitted an oppor- tunity of distinguishing that rising middle class which the feudal barons viewed with aversion and contempt. James further be- stowed on him the noble barony of Largo, in Fife, and he held it Vy the tenure that he should at all times be ready to pilot and convey the king and queen to the famous shrine of St. Adrian, on the Isle of May. His Castle of Largo, a pile of great size and strength, he built by the hands of several English, French, and Portuguese pirates whom he had captured at sea, and whose hard work he made the price of their liberty. Thus he, who had commenced life as a poor sailor boy of Leith, found himself, before his fiftieth year, a Scottish knight and baron of Parliament; the founder of a noble family; the pos- sessor of a stately fortress. Laird of Largo, Easter-dron, and Newbyrne ; with a coat of arms, bearing two ships iu full sail under an oak tree, in memory of his defending the Castle of Dumbarton against an English fleet in 1481, and defeating another near hhe Bass a few ^^ears after — But we anticipate. Now, his caravels had just returned from Sluice, where he had been on an embassy, concerning the quarrel then existing between Scotland and the Flemings. He was rathor under than over the middle height, and 8ome« Oir BOABD. It jirhat stout in body, with a round good-lminoured i«tc« ; his com- plciion was fair, but burned to a dusky red by exposure for nearly forty years to the sea air in many climates ; his beard and mustachios were rather full, and the former fringed his face all round, mingling with his short-cut hair, which, though it had been dark in youth, was now becoming grey and grizzled. On his head was a cap of maintenance, adorned by a short red feather; he wore a rich military belt, andajazarine jacket of the fashion of the late King James II. ; a gorget of polished steel, having esoalloped edges, and a magnificent poniard, which he had received from Bartolemeo Diaz, the famous Portuguese navigator, who discovered the Cape of Good Hope. Buff-coloured hosen encased his sturdy legs, and he wore plain knee-boots of black leather, with high red heels. The only indications of naval life about him were, his silver whistle (in those days the inva- riable badge of rank on the ocean), with a consecrated medal, bearing the image of Clement, the patron of mariners ; and more than these, that unmistakeable roll hi his gait, which is peculiar to all those brave and honest souls who live by salt water. "And so. Barton," said he, returning froni the starboard quarter ; " there is no sign of thy father's ships ui the Tay. We expected to have met them here." " It is indeed most strange !" replied Captain Barton, giving a last and anxious glance up the broad and shining river that opened now before them j " but assuredly I can see no more ship? in the Firth." " Not even from the mast-head ?" " Nay, though I could see the river as far up as the Powa of Errol." " Some service must have turned up in our absence, and while we lingered at the Sluice," said Falconer. " And if service was to be found," said the admiral, with honest emphasis, " my brave auld messmate. Sir Andi-ew Barton, Ivould be the last man on the Scottish waters to keep his anchor down. But, ho ! gadzooks, here is the captam of Broughty bo- ginning to waste the khig's powder. Archy of Anster, order f yeoman of the braces to lower my pennon." At that moment a puff of white smoke broke over the blacl ramparts of Broughty, as the cannoneers saluted the admiral's well-known flag, which was thrice lowered in reply to the com- pliment as the vessels swept slowly past, aiid entered the broad bosom of that magnificent river. The tide was uuw beginning to ebb, and those dangerous ghoals, known as the Drummilaw Sands, were gradunllj t)pearing. B 18 THE YELLOW FRIGATE. Under these heaps lie the wrecks of those Norwegian galleys fehich were destroyed in a storm in the days of Duncan I., after flis general had defeated the soldiers of King Sueno in the Carse tf Gowrie. There they sank, and there the shifting sand roB# *ke a bar at the river mouth above their sbaitered hulls. CHAPTER II. THE SWASHBUCKLER. "Kind cousin Gifford, if thou lack'st good counsel At race, at cockpit, or at gaming table, Or any freak by which men cheat themselves As well of life as of the means to live. Call for assistance upon Philip Mure ; But in all serious parley spare invoking him." AUCHINDRAHB. By this time, the boat which had shot off from the promontory on which the fortress is situated, was alongside the Yellow Frigate, which was moving slowly, almost imperceptibly, up the river, and was now some hundred yards ahead of the Margaret^ which was but a dull sailer. As the boat neared, the song chaunted by the two rowers was heard on board. It was a dull and monotonous chant, the constant burden of which was, " Hey, the canty carles o' Dysart I Ho, the merry lads o' Buckhaven I Hey, the saucy limmers o' Largo ! Ho, the bonnie lassies o' Leven !" " 'Tis the boat of Jamie Gair," said Barton ; " the bravest fellow that ever dipped a line in salt water ; let a rope be hove to him from one of the larboard ports." This was immediately done; the boat (which was one of those Btrong clinker-built fisher craft, which are peculiar to the Scot- tish firths) sheered alongside ; and the two fishermen who rowed it, together with a gentleman, enveloped in a scarlet mantle, who had been lounging in the stern, ascended to the maindeck, and trom thence the latter climbed by Jacob's ladder to the lofty poop, where the admiral, his second in command, and the captain of the arquebussiers, were surmising who the visitor might be. " Pshaw !" said Su- Andj-ew, as they all retired aft ; " 'tis Sir Hew Borthwick!" " But we must not forget ourselves altogether," urged Hobfv^ Barton ; " the man is a visitor." "True," said the admiral i " I forget" THE SWASnBUCKLEB. 19 "Welcome," said Falconer, as this visitor, not in the leaat daunted by the coolness ot'his reception, approached them jauntily, with a tall feather nodding in his bonnet, and an enormous sword trailing at his heels; "welcome on board the Yellott Fi'igateJ" " A dog's welcome to him," muttered Robert Barton, under his thick mustachios ; " for he is the falsest loon in all broad Scotland. Dost thou know, admiral, that 'tis said, this fellow, with two brother villains in the English pay, betrayed Berwick to the King of England ?" The Admiral nodded a brief assent. Borthwick's appearance was somewhat forbidding. He was past forty years of age, and had black, glossy, and fierce-looking eyes ; a mouth like an unhealed gash ; ears set high on his head, black teeth, and a stumpy beard. He wore a faded doublet of figured satin with malioitres, that had once been cloth of gold; his feet were encased in English boots of that absurd fashion then called duck-bill, as the toes were like beaks, and five inches long. A purse hung at his girdle, and a chain encircled his neck ; but rumour wickedly averred that the former was frequently dis- tended by pebbles, and that the second was only brass. When he removed his bonnet, the remains of a tonsure were visible ; for Sir Hew (the origin of whose knighthood was some- what obscure) had formerly been a prebend in the Cathedral of Dunblane, but forsaking the cloister at a time when the eccle siastical rule was considerably relaxed, he had espoused the more congenial occupation of sharper, bully, jockey, and swashbuckler. Always obsequious to the rich and noble, but supercilious to the poor and humble, or brutal whenever he dared venture to be so he hovered like a vulture wherever the ambulatory Court of James III. chanced to be residing. " And now, that all ceremonious inquiries ai'e over, may I ask, Master Borthwick, on what devil's errand thou hast boarded us?" bluntly inquired Robert Barton, who, being less good- natured than the blufl old admiral, was at no pains to conceal his scorn for the swashbuckler. The diskke was quite mutual ; thus a malicious gleam lighted the eyes of Borthwick, as he replied — " I came on board to learn that which is of much importance to the jovial gallants about Court; (nay, nay. Sir David Falconer, do not laugh quite so loud if ^om please!) whether our good friend the admiral has been successful in his embassy to the Flemings; for since the interdict of '66, when our vessels could no lon^ trade with the ports of the Swyn, the Sluice, and the Dara, wme hath been %o bad, and so dear 20 THE TKLLOTT PRIQATB. " That you must e'en content 3'our noble self with plain usque- baugh," interrupted the admiral, laughing outright at the idea of communicating the result of his important mission to a pitiful fellow like Borthwick. *' But canst thou tell me, sir, where are the ships of mine old messmate, Sir Andrew Barton, and where is he P" " The ships of Sir Andrew," replied the swashbuckler, slowly, and with another malevolent glance at Robert Barton, "are anchored safely by the walls of London Tower," " And Barton " " Is at the bottom of the sea, I suppose." "Borthwick!" exclaimed the admiral, in great wrath; "if thou tast come on board to laugh at us, by Heaven's mercy, thou ghalt find none here, for I will rig thee by the earings to the spritsail yard." " He dare not trifle with us," said Robert Barton, in a thick hoarse voice, as his swarthy cheek grew gale ; " be patient. Sir Andrew, and let us hear what he has to say. Hew Borthwick, thou art poor, and lovest gold, like thy own life-blood. I will give thee a hundred crowns if thou speakest the truth ; but 1 will poniard thee on this deck, sirrah, if thou liest ; so spin thy yarn, then, hand over hand ; be a man for once. *Tis a s©n who asks for tidings and the safety of his father." "Quick!" added the testy admiral, stamping his foot; "for my arm is somewhat longer than my patience, sir." " Hearken," said Borthwick, with deliberation. " On the very day you sailed for Sluice, three months ago, the Provosts of Aberdeen and Dundee appeared before the Parliament at Stirlinc^ (where the king was biding) making doleful complaints anent the great loss their burghs had suffered from the pirates of Portugal, who had seized many of their ships and barbarously murdered the crews. In five hours thereafter, Sir Andrew Barton put to sea with the Great Lion the TJyiicoim and Little Jenny . He sailed towards the Tagus, and by a herald's mouth demanded immediate justice from the Portuguese. Alfonso V. delayed ; then stout old Barton lost his temper, and after firing a few shot at the castle of Lisbon, put to sea. Falling in with the identical ships lehich had committed the outrages complained of by the two Provosts, he captured and sunk them, sending the heads of their crews, daintily salted in beef barrels, to the King, at Stirling Being somewhat soft-hearted, Jumes, as you may believe, was no way dehghted by the present; but, Sir Andrew, afler cannonad- ing every town on the coast of Portugal, as he passed it, and after destroying every ship of that nation which he nici; on the high seas* bore away for Scotland. Alfonso complained to hii THE SWASnDUCKLEB. tl ^od ally tbo King of England ; the latter made inqnirles as to the most likely route to be chosen by Sir Andrew Burton on hi» homeward voysige, and despatched his high-admiral, the Lord Thomas Howard, and his brother Edmund, with a strong fleet of the best ships London could produce, to the Downs, as these Southerns call that part of the north sea " " I ^now, I know , off the south-east coast of England, on flie Kentish shore," said the admiral, stamping a foot im- ^atiently ; " go on, man — go on !" " After sweeping all the shores of Portugal, and aRer escaping A frightful tempest, on Saint Swithin's da}', he was descried br the English fleet, breai>ting gallantly up the channel, with aU sail possible on the Lion, and the Jenny, too, which bowled on alongside, like a little gadfly, all legs and arms, with sweeps out, and every stitch of canvas set." " Ay," said Robeii Barton, " she was a noble little sloop, fuilt under my father's own eye, poor man ! — Well." " The English fleet came on in the form of a half-moon, each vessel with a large white rod at her bowsprit, in sign of amity ; but Sir Andi'ew knew the Lord Howard of old; and undaunted by his array, came on with his guns double-shotted, and all his ports open ; but failing to break through, he engaged the English admiral. A desperate conflict ensued, for the Great Lion was hemmed in on every side, and boarded at both stem and stem. Through the joints of his armour. Sir Andi'ew was shot by an arrow, when about to retreat by the rigging into the main-top on his decks beuig taken ; and just then, as he was falling, a cannon shot swept both his legs away. His brave crew fought round him in a circle, and he continued to cheer and encoui-age them, by blowing his whistle to the last, until they were all slain, or taken and disarmed. Edmund Howard, with three ships, pursued the Jenny ; dismasted her, and shot her sweeps away; then she struck, and the survivors of both crews — only one hundi'ed and fifty poor seamen in all — were marched in chains through the streets of London, as a spectacle to the exulting citizens. They were then flung, like felons, in th(( fortress which thcj' name the Tower ; but after being instructed to implore their lives from the English king, they were dismissed ; and now, Mvter Eobert Barton, your father's noble ships, th< G-reat Lion ,*iid the Unicorn, have the honour of being esteemed the best in the navy of England, and display St. George's red cross, where St. Andrew's blue ensign v/aved before." " And what says our king to all this ?" asked Barton, in a Tcice that was rendered hoarse and tremulous by grief and passion. £2 THE YELLOW FKIGATE. " Ay/' added the admiral, with a terrible frown j " what sayt King James?" " He despatched the Rothesay Herald to Windsor Castle, de« manding redress, and threatening war." " And the Englishman answered — ■ P" " That the fate of pirates should not occasion disputes between princes." " Pirates r exclaimed Robert Barton, whose rage at such an epithet surmounted even his grief for his father's death. Borth- wick's sinister eyes were brightened by a grim smile ; but mutterings of anger were heard among the officers and seamen, many of whom had crowded round to hear the news from shore; and many a swarthy brow was knit, and many a hard hanc* clenched : for old Andrew Barton, like his compatriot and mess' mate, Andrew Wood, had long been the idol of the Scottish mariners. " Pirates /" reiterated Robert ; " dared the English king stigmatize by such a name a gallant merchant mai'iner, who, by noble valour and honest industry, has won himself a fair estate and spotless reputation — a knight, who received his spurs from the hands of a queen — an admiral, second only to the Laird of Largo !" "Second to none, my brave boy," said Sir Andrew Wood, clapping Barton on the shoulder. " Thy father was second to no man that sails upon the sea ; but he hath found a sailor's grave, so rest him God! As for pirates — Heaven will know best whether kings or those who live by salt water are the most honest men. Every dog hath his day ; and just now Lord Howard hath his ; be patient, my boy, until our new ship, the Great Michael, is oflf the stocks, and then we shall see whether the Scottish or the English cross shall float highest above the water. But tell me. Hew Borthwick, what hath been the result of all this ; for among these lubberly Flemings we learned no Scottish news." " You all know, sir, of course," resumed the swashbuckler, assuming a lofty and impertinent air of consequence, as he stuck his left hand into the hilt of his sword, " that the king's eldest son, James Duke of Rothesay, was at his birth betrothed to the Princess Cecilia of England, daughter of the late King Edward IV. ; that his brother, the Duke of Albany, was to marry King Edward's fair young sister, the Dowager Duchess of Burgundy ; that our adorable Princess Margaret was to marry the English Duke of Clarence ; that every one was to be married to some one else, except myself, who, ui all these illustrious ftlbances, had been strangely overlooked ; when lo I the brave Arck'bald, Eaii of Angus, wno is now Warden of the East and THE SWASHBUCKLER. 23 Middle Marches, grew weary of all this traffic with England, and the long truce to war. To square accounts with Henry VII. for Barton's loss, he marched ten thousand of his vassals across the Border, and ravaged all Northumberland. So thus, for th« present, have all these royal marriages ended — in fire and smoke — bloodshed and cold steel." " So may they ever end when our kings look for alliances else- where than on the Continent," said Sir David Falconer. The admii-al paced up and down the deck, in a bitter and thoughtful mood, grieving for the loss of his oldest and earliest friend ; one hand he thrust into the breast of his jazarine jacket; the other rested on the pommel of his poniard. Relinquishing the ship to the care of others. Barton stood apart, gazing di'eamily upon the shining river, with his heart full of sad and bitter thoughts, while involuntarily he clutched the mizen rattlins. His eyes were swimming ; but he bit his bearded nether lip till the blood came. Suddenly he raised his eyes to i, large mansion, which was looming high above others, through the summer haze in which Dundee was sleeping ; and then a smile spread over his broad and thoughtful brow. At that moment a hand was laid upon his shoulder, he turned, and encountered the ship's chaplain, Father Zuill, a Dominican. " Eelinquish these bitter thoughts. Barton," said he; "and come below with me to my cabin. There I will show thee an invention that will avenge thy father more surely than all the cannon in Scotland — yea, a bm'ning-glass, that will consume a ship at the distance of a hundred leagues." "Right, Father Zuill," said the admiral, who did not hear, or mistook, what the friar had said. " God may listen to the prayers of an honest sailor, when He turns a deaf ear to those of a king." A few minutes after they had gone below, the friar reappeared and ascended to the ship's waist, where Sir Hew Borthwick, not- withstanding his knighthood, was comfortably regaling himself with Archy of Anster and Wad the gunner, on salt beef and spiced ale at the capstan-head. Zuill placed a purse in his hands, and said, " Here are the hundred crowns which Captain Barton promised thee." " A hundred crowns !" stammered Borthwick ; " 'tis an enonnous sum, good father." (And so it was in the time of James III.) " But Barton hath a noble heart and a princely fortune/' said (he chaplain, retiring hurriedly, for he had neither respect nor idmiiation for an apostate priest like Borthwick. 24 THE YELLOW FRIGATE. " Ah mo r'inuttered the latter ; ** where shall I conceal this, and what shall I do with it P I never had such a sum before ! What a thing it is, for a poor devil, who has not had even a black penny for ton days, to find himself suddenly the king of a hundred crowns ! I' faith !" he added, while concealing his prize, " 'tis well that fiery birkie Barton knoweth not by whose information the Lord Howard knew that the Scottish ships would ^8 the English Downs about Saint Swithin'a day." CHAPTER IIL BONNY DUNDEE. ** Yon is the Tay rolled down from Highland hllla, That rests his waves, after so rude a race, In the fair plains of Gowrie — further westward Proud Stirling rises — yonder to the east, Dundee, the gift of God." Macduff's Cross. In that age of cold iron (for indeed we cannot call it a golden age), when the potent and valiant knight, Sir James Scrimegeour, of Dudhope and Glastre, Hereditary Bearer of the Royal Standard, was Constable and Provost of the Scottish Geneva, the unex- pected appearance of Sir Andrew Wood's two stately caravels created no small commotion within the burgh. No sooner was notice ^iven from the Castle of Broughty that the Laird of Largo's ships had been seen off the Inchcape, and were now standing np the Tay, than it spread from mouth to mouth, and passed through the town like wildfire. Though now the shapeless facade of many a huge linen factory, and the tall outline of many a smoky chimney, over* ihadow the ground that was covered by green fields and waving coppice in the days I write of, " Bonny Dundee" still merits the name given it of old by the northern clansmen— Ail-lec — the pleasant and the beautifui. Spread along the sandy margin of one of our noblest rivem, and nestling under the brow of a green and conical mountain, it was without walls in the year 1488 ; but at eacli end had a itrongly embattled gate, which defended it on the east and west, while its castle, of the eleventh century, which stood on an immense mass of steep rock that overlooked the Tay, gave it additional strength, and added a military character to the naval importance which the burgh was acquiring by the shipping that usually crowded its harbour. This castle is now removed, and* BONNY DUNDEB. 26 broad street has been hewn through the heart of the rock which it crowned. Its quaint thoronghfares contained then many beautiful chapels, convents, and monasteries; and tlie stately hotel of many a noble family, with turrets and turnpike-stair, embat- tled porch, and armorial bearings. These towered above th« timber-fronted and arcaded houses of the Fluckergaitt, the Overgaitt, and other venerable streets, whose appearance wai more picturesque than their names would import. There our kings nad a mansion named the Whitehall, the vaults of which are yet remaining ; as also had the Lords Drummond, the Scrimegeours of Dudhope, the Barons of Strathmartine, the powerful Earls of Angus, and the great Earl of Crawford, who, for his valour at Blackness, in the recent struggle between the king and nobility, had been created Duke of Montrose, and Lord High Chamberlain of Scotland. Many great barons of the Carse of Gowrie also resided in Dundee, where Parliaments and Conventions have been held ; and which could then boaat of the Mint of King Robert T., and the palace of St. Margaret, the Queen of Malcolm IIL ; but its proudest objects were that broad river, which from the hills of Strathfillan and Glen- dochart rolls its mighty current to the German Sea; and its ample harbour, crowded by the high-pooped and gaudily -painted ships of France and Norway, Sweden and Flanders. On the afternoon of this bright Beltane day, the return of the great naval hero from the shores of Flanders caused an unusual commotion and satisfaction in Dundee. The whole inhabitants were " on tiptoe," and a joyous murmur spread along the !Mole when the well-known caravels of Wood were seen to enter the river ; for now, though the admiral was a knight and baron of Parliament, who fought under the king's pennon, he still dabbled a little in merchandise, which gave him additional value in the estimation of the thrifty burgesses and merchant traders of the town. Thus, every ship in the harbour, from the great argosie that traded with the Levant, down to those little crayers or low- built smacks which are still peculiar to the Scottish firths, hoisted her colours. The bells in the vast tower of St. Mary nag a merry peal j groups of old weather-beaten tars, wearing broad blue bonnets, gabeidmes ot Galloway white, and enormous boots of rough skin, assembled on the rock of St. Nicholas, and on the Mole, which then lay to the westward thereof, to observe, and exercise their nautical criticism on the aspect of the tall ships which, before a gentle eastern breeze, were slowly coming abreast of the town. There are bluflf old fellows of this kind — half man and half fi.-h — who, in all ages, have haunted the piers 26 *HE TELLOW FBIGAT*. of seaport towns, and are great, pugnacious, and, moreover obstinate authorities, in all matters appertaining unto salt water. Amid all the dense population so interested m the arrival of the admiral, there were none who bent their eyes more eagerly on the coming ships than five fair young girls who were seated on the bartizan of a large mansion, which (after surviving nearly all its baronial cotemporaries) still stands at the corner of Fish- street, and the Flesher-row, which were then, as they are yet, the busiest part of all Dundee, and contained some of the finest ex- amples of old Scottish street architecture. This mansion is large and square, like a great bastel-house ,• and at three of its corners has broad round towers, which are strong enough to turn cannon balls. The whole superstructure rests on an arcade composed of finely-moulded elliptical arches, that spring from fluted pilasters.* Its arcade is partly sunk into the earth, and it is further diminished of its original height by a slate roof sloping down upon the walls, which of old were sur- mounted by a bartizan, from whence a view could be obtained of the river to the south, and that quaint old thoroughfare to the west, where, two hundred years before, the schoolboy William Wallace, slew the son of Selby, the English governor; but to the north the lofty mansions of the Nethergaitt shut out the view. In the time of our history, this stately mansion, the stone panels of which were covered by coats-of-arms bearing a Sleuth- hound and shield, with three bars wavy, was the town residence of one of Scotland's most powerful peers, John, Lord Drummond, of Stobhall and that ilk, who was Baron of Concraig, Steward of Strathearn, Privy Councillor, and had been Ambassador of James III. to England, three years before, concerning the marriage of James, the young Duke of Rothesay, to a princess of that kingdom ; an embassy on which he mysteriously failed. The five fair girls who were watching the ships' approach on this bright summer evening, were his daughters, now left entirely to their own control ; for Lord Drummond was with the king at Scone, and their mother, Elizabeth Lindesay, of the princely House of Crawford, had been dead three years, and lay en* tombed in Dunblane. Euphemia was twenty years of age ; her sisters, Sybilla am Margaret, were respectively nineteen and eighteen ; but Eliza- beth and Beatrix were little girls, and of them cotemporarj history has recorded little more than the names. • In 1808, two hundred silver coins of James VI. were fonnd imbedded in the wall of this fabric, which is now named King James's Coutou^ Quuse, fVom the use to which it was last applied BONNY DUNDEB. ff Lady Euphemia was a very handsome girl, with fine hazel eyes, and glossy dark brown hair, which was entirely confined in one of those cauls of gold net by which the Scottish ladies had gladly superseded the fontanges of the preceding reign. Ovet this floated a white kerchief of the finest texture, edged with gold fringe. Her nose was straight ; her well-defined eyebrows expressed decision ; her complexion was clear, but pale ; her bust jid figure were unexceptionable, and the very elegant costume of the court of James III. — an ermined jacquette of black velvety with spangled skirtle and yellow mantle, displayed them to the best advantage. She wore scarlet gloves from Peith, and shoes of crimson tissue. Her whole appearance was gaudy and bril- liant ; while her air was lofty and reserved, for it was an age when pride of birth and station were earned to an absurd extent ; but in her beauty there was something noble and majestic ; and her dark hair imparted to her skin a pure and trans- parent whiteness that was very striking, even in a land of fair women. Sybilla was just a second edition of Euphemia, but with a slight rose tinge in her cheek, and a stature somewhat less Perhaps the most charming of the three was Margaret, who was then barely eighteen, and had soft blue eyes, a pure and delicate conplexion, a profusion of that beautiful and brightly-coloured hair for which our Scottish Mary was so famous ; and her fiice (though less regular than her elder sisters) had the sweetest ex- pression that ever Raffaelle conjured up in the happiest moments of his artistic inspiration. There was a dash of thought or sad- ness (which you will) in Margaret's winning smile that fascinated all, and she was the favourite of the proud and ambitious old lord, her father. Lizzie and Beatie were both fair-haired and happy little girls, who inherited from their mother the blue eyes and dazzling complexions of the Lindesays of Crawford. The three elder ladies occupied tabourettes ; their two younger sisters altematel}'- romped round the bartizan with awiry otter terrier, or nestled among the embroidered skirts of Euphemia and Sybnia. The rich attire of these five girls, the abundance of satin, velvet, jewels, and embroidery which they had about them, be- tokened wealth ; while by their air, the carriage of their heads, the chastened expression of their eyes, and above all by the beau« tiful form and whiteness of their hands, any one might easily jperceive their birth was noble ; yet theii* father (although the heir of a long line of chieftains) waa the first of hii race who hoii worn a coroneU fg THB YELLOW FBIGATE. " Oh, look at the caravels !" exclaimed little Lizzie to ner sisters, who had been doing little else for the last hour ; " look, sister Margaret," she continued, clapping her pretty hands, " see how one gay ^2tg runs up after another ! Dost thou see Captain Barton yet, sister Euphemia ? — or thou, Sir David Falconer, SybillaP" " How should we, if thou dost not ?" asked Euphemia, with soms asperity. *' Because you are older and bigger than me, and should of course see farther." " Hush, child," replied Lady Euphemia, who had frequently found little Lizzie's powers of observation somewhat provoking; *' but I do think," she added, turning to Sybilla, " that I can distinguish Falconer and Barton on the poop." " At this distance !" said she, shading her fine hazel eyes by a small white hand. " Dost see a white feather waving there ?" "Euphemia, Falconer always wears a red feather in his casquetel," replied Lady Sybilla. *' We shall have good Father Zuill, the chaplain, visiting us ere long," said little Sybilla, " to read us some of his wonderful stories out of that great book, in which he writes down the miracles of St. Clement, the mariner's patron." Be it known, that though these charming girls could write, not one of them ever read a book in her life ; for the simple reason, that there was not then a printed book in all the realm of Scotland, where the noble art of printing was unknown till twenty-two years later — being fourteen years after it was known in England. Here Uttle Lizzie, afler terrifying her sisters by a large wasp, which she thrust before them on her fan of feathers, threw it fver the bartizan. " 'Tis th?- first wasp I have seen this year," said Euphemia j ** thou shouidst have killed it, child, for that would have freed ua from foes till the end of December." " Father Zuill told ub not to believe in that superstition," said Margaret, gently. " Yet he believes in beads that cure blindness," said Sybilla. ''And burning-glasses that will consume a fleet at the horizon and further," added Euphemia; " but lo you, now, the «hips are about to anchor 1" The sun was now in the westward, and a bright flood oi light was poured along the broad and beautiful river, the green banks of which lay steeped in purple haze. The Yellow Frigats &ud lier con.sort, towering above all other craft in the Irurbouf BONNY rUNT)KB. 29 were now abreast or the muiision from wlience the five dauj^hten of the Steward of Stratlioarn were observing them; and being distant only a bow-t^hot, the words of command issued througk the trumpet on board of both could be distinctly heard. There wjis a light wind, tlnis the vessels were under a press of canvas, and formed, indeed, a noble sight, with their snow-white sails shining above the mirror-like water, and their many- coloured pennons streaming in the sunny air. They elicited frequent bursts of nautical rapture from the old Tritons who were clustered on the craig of St, Nicholas, a sea-beaten rock, that took its name from a small chapel dedicated to that saint, whieli crowned its summit, " To your quarter?;, yeomen of the sheets and braces !" cried « dear and distinct vo'.ce from the poop of the frigate. "This is his voia; — that is the voice of Barton !" exclaimed Euphemia, a glow of joy replacing the paleness of her line face to hear again the familiar accents of her lover — even in tV hoarse words of command. A moment after the courses were hauled up, and the light breeze swept thi'ough the rigging; boats were now putting oS from the shore, and the high gmmels (or gun-walls) of the caravels were crowded with glad faces, and hurried but hearty recognitions of friends were interchanged. The seamen, clad in their grey gaberdines (each with St. Andrew's cross sewn on th / breast thereof), and their flat blue bonnets, were seen swai-mlijg u{ the shrouds like bees, and displaying themselves upon the snarpu braced yards ; and then, as if by the wave of a wizard's wana the great canvas sails disappeared, landsmen scarcely knew how, as they were neatly and compactly handed and laid in, revealing the taut black rigging and ponderous top-castles of the frigate — nor was Sir Alexander Mathieson, in the Queen Margaret, an instant behind the admiral in his mana?uvres. " Stand by the anchor, lads 1" shouted Barton, with a voice ike a trumpet. "All clear — yare, yare, my hearts!" replied the boatswain, Archy O'Anster from the forecastle, while as the frigate rounded her to, great blue ensign flapped in tb3 wind. " Then let go !" A rushing sound, as the thick rope cable swept tiirough th« hawseholes, and a heavy plunge, as the ponderous iron anchor disappeared into the calm flow of the river, announced that ♦.he admiral's ship swung at her moorings in the harbour of Dundee, from whence, four months before, she had sailed for the coast of Inlanders, as we have aheady mentioned, anent King James's dispute with the merchants of the Sluice and Dan)» 30 THB TELLOW FBIGATE. At thftt time no man was so popular in Scotland as Sir Andi'ew Wood, unless we except Sir Andrew Barton ; but now he was gone to his long home, and the people looked to his old messmate to avenge him. Three loud cheers were given from the shore as the frigates came to anchor ; and from aloft and alow their crews responded, with the deep and hearty shout that can only come from the throats of those who are incessantly combating with the waves and winds. " See, dear Lizzie," said Margaret, who, though usually silent and languid, had partaken of the excitement and bustle caused by the admiral's arrival, " a barge is leaving the side of the Yellow .Friffate." "Oh, the bonny little barge!" exclaimed Beatrix, dancing about her, and comparing the sixteen-oared boat to the towering caravel. " Two gentlemen, clad in grey doublets, are in it." " Margaret, 'tis Barton and Falconer — thou seest his red feather now, Sybilla," said Euphemia, as she flushed again with pleasure. " They will bring us pretty, pretty presents, will they not P" said the younger girls, clapping their hands. " Father Zuill promised you each a box of sweetmeats," said Margaret, with one of her sad kind smiles. " Captain Barton promised me a silver collar from Bruges," said little Elizabeth. " And David Falconer promised me a carcanet of pearls, with, a Aood and veil," added Beatrix, who was a year younger. " Thou — child ?" said Euphemia ; " and what would i/ou do with a carcanet, a hood and veil ?" " Wear them at mass, and in the Highgaitt, to be sure," retorted the little dame, testily ; " no one fell in love with you, sister Euphemia, till you exchanged the coif for a hood and veil." " Nor with Sybilla, either," added Beatrix, making common cause against the elders ; " and as for ^oor sister Margaret, no one has loved her yet." Lady Margaret grew ghastly pale, and turned away. Sybilla, who did not perceive this emotion, laughed ; but Euphemia, who had now the place of mother over them all, said gravely, " You are overforward, imps. Eight years hence it will be time enough for Lizzie, and for you, Beatie, to think of lovers, and talk of hoods and veils. Marry come up ! child, thou canst not spin yet ! But see — Barton's boat hath reached the Rock of fit. Nicholas." " Alas I" said Margaret, sadly, " what evil tidings we have to pve him of his father's fate." •ONKT DtmDEE. t( As tlie two friends sprang ashore, the old seamen who were clustered by the chapel wall, all doffed their bonnets, and mur mured a hearty welcome. The rock was the ancient landing-place, and lay to the west- ward of the old harbour. It was there that David, Crown Princ« of Scotland, landed on his return from the Crusades ; and there, that two hundi-ed years after, the good Sir James Douglas em- barked for Jerusalem, with the heart of Robert Bruce; for **bonnie Dundee" is a place of many old and many stirrinjf memories. "They are coming this way," said Sybilla, in a flutter; "t?« must hasten to receive them." " But, lo ! — what scurvy companion do they bring with themP" added the haughty Euphemia, " Sir Hew Borthwick," said Lizzie, " who cheated our butlei at dice, and stole the gateward's bugle." " Sir ! — how can you thus pollute the title of knighthood P" asked the eldest sister. " But do not the people call him so P" said Margaret. "He is a manswom priest," continued Euphemia, "and I marvel that the Lord Bishop of Dunblane permits him to be at liberty. Was not Father Ai'buckle built up in the gable of Oilston kii-k for the same crime — abandoning his cloister?" "Oh, frightful !" said the gentle Margaret, with a shudder; •* 'tis so unlike yaw, dear Effie, to urge such an expiation ; more- over, I do not believe it." " Not believe !" repeated Euphemia, as they all descended from the bartizan by a turret stair ; " has not oui- father told us that he saw it done — yea, and guarded the kii'k with the lancea bf the stewardry for ten days ; and there, in the wall, the bones »f the friar, poor man ! are yet remaining. But, hark ! there ar our visitors." At that moment Sir David Falconer blew the coppsr hkorq which hung at the tirling-pin of the house door. §i THB TBLtOW FBIGATS. CHAPTER IV. THE SISTERS. *• L sailor's life is a life of woe, He works now late, now early j Now up, now down, now to and ftt>, But then he takes it eheerly. And yet think not our fate is hard, Tliough storms at sea so treat ug. For coming home, a sweet reward. With smiles our sweethearts greet ua." 'f . DlBDlW. Iv an apartinont which had three large windows overlooking tl»e river, the ladies seated themselves in a gi'oup to await their visitors ; and two, at least, were flushed and palpitating, for they expected acknowledged lovers. The younger girls were all ex- pectation too, anticipating certain gifts or presents; Margaret^ alone, was, as usual, pale, calm, and quiet — even sad. The lofty walls of the chamber were hung with pale brown leather, stamped with rich golden figures; the ceiling was covered with grotesque gilding, and upon every available place appeared the sleuth-hound of the Drummonds, with their motto. Gang tvarily. A magnificent Dutch buflfet, having bulbous shapen legs, and deep recesses, stood at one end, and was sur- mounted by a large hound in delft wai-e ; a gift by which Barton, whose father brought it from Flanders, first made an impression on the old lord's heart. The chairs were of oak, with crimson cushions ; but the floor had no other carpet than a matting of plaited straw. There was a high stone mantelpiece covered with carving ; an iron grate, the enormous basket of which (the season being summer) was filled with sea-shells, and on each side was a wulptmed niche or ambre, so common in old Scottish houaee ol that age. " Heaven be praised, our anchor hath again hold of Scottisk ground !" said Falconer, as a page conducted him an Barton up 'tairs. " How 80 — thou art either more of a lover or less of a sailot ^an I, David P" " Nay, I am not less of a lover, but more of a soldier, perhaps,** /eplied the arquebussier, " or more of a landlubber, if you will." " Now then, little marmoset," said Barton, who perceived the ^age listening, " heave ahead, if you please." The captain of the caravel and his companion were attired just M we h*ve seen them on boaid. save that the latter had adoptW THE SISTEBS. 89 an cm bowed helmet, with a plume of feathers, a briglfc gorget, ami long steel gloves. He looked very handsome, gay, and glit- tering; but honest Barton, in whose heart the recent tidings he had received, sank deep, looked grave and grim, though a sad emile spread over his brown and weatherbeaten face, as ho took both Lady Enphemia's hands in his, and greeted all her sisters with warmth of heart, though perhaps with less of formal courtesy than Falconer, who had served in the King's Guard, and was one of those fine handsome fellows whom all womea •mite in admiring ; for he had a superb but native and inimitable %ir. While his friend, inured to a life of hardship on the ocean, at a time when the infancy of science trebled its dangers, was perhaps less easy, he was not a whit less noble in manner or aspect ; and the name and wealth he inherited from his gallant father, the fighting merchant-mariner of Leith, had gained him a place among those proud barons, who, but for the valour by which old Andrew Barton won his spurs, would heartily have despised the magnificent fortune and estate acquired by his probity and care. Poor Falconer was wont to say, that all his father had lefl him consisted of a rusty coat of mail, two old swords, and four or five cordial hatreds, or feuds, to settle ; all of which he had settled honestly and manfully, twice over, on the street, or the highwa}--, wherever and whenever he chanced to meet with the creditors ; and now he owed no man either a blow or a bodle. " Welcome, Robert Barton, my dream is read," said Euphemia, rising up with a bright expression in her beautiful eyes. " And what was thy dream, dearest Effie ?" he asked in a soft roice. " 'Tis of an old saw, told me by Jamie Gair.** " The fisherman of Broughty — he boai'ded us as we passed the iTild craig — but what of his saw ?" *• • To dream of a ship sailing on the blue sea Is a sign of bright joy to thy kindred and tbe« ; But to dream ». f a ship that lies bulged on the straad Is a sign that dark sorrow is almost at hand.' "Now last night, Robert, I dreamt of thy yellow caraveA sailing on the sea (said I not so, Margaret P) j and lo, thou art here !" " And my friend Falconer, too ?" "He is, like thee, most welcome," said Lady Euphemia, offering her pretty hand, which Falconer timidly raised to hia Up, and then approached S}-billa ; but on receiving from her iignificant glance, full of prudence and love, he sighed, bowed and remained aloof; for the passion of these two waa as yet 34 THB YELLOW PRIGATS. secret, or merely a matter of jest with some, and of speculation with others. Falconer, hrave to a fault, was poor, and had only his spurs and his sword. He knew this but too well, and Sybilla did not forget it. He had long concealed his passion ; but she had soon divined it ; and now they treasured up a secret thought in the depth of their hearts, like a dream that might never be realized ; for Lord Drummond was ambitious, and had many a time swoni, that at least " four of his daughters should die countess6s." Thus Sybilla and Falconer had found their best resort was patience or hope. The eldest sister was a happy, rich, and beautiful fiancee ; Sybilla was a timid girl, loved by one who dared not avow hii passion to her family ; and Lady Margaret was sad and melan- choly, loved, the people said, by many for her goodness and gen- tleness, but by none for her beauty — save one, of whom more anon. After the first compliments, inquiries, and congratulations were over, " Ah ! I had almost forgotten thee, little one," said Barton, Kissing the pretty Lizzie, whom he now observed hovering about him ; " but here is thy promised necklace." " Oh, joy !" said the girl, skipping among her sisters, on re- ceiving a beautiful collar of Bruges silver, with a pendant of opals ; " now I am not less than my cousin Lady Egidia Crawford, who is so proud because her mother was created a duchess." " By my faith, Barton !" said Falconer, " thou givest such magnificent presents to Lady Lizzie, that to keep Beatie's favour, I shall be a ruined dyvour." " With all the rings and blessed medals these children have got, they might open a trinket shop," said Sybilla. " And hast thou nothing for me ?" asked Beatie. " I have the most beautiful veil that the nuns of Sluice could work ; but unfortunately, it is still on board the frigate. To- morrow I shall remember it better than I did in the hurry ol to-day." " To-morrow the king arrives," said Barton. " Nay — we heard nothing of it," ^oserved Sybilla. " Sir Hew Borthwick, or the man so-called, informed us that the king was coming hither i' ^'^nx Stii'ling on the morrow with the young Duke of Rothesay, miu all the court." Lady Margaret's colour heightened at this intelligence, and to conceal her emotion, she hastened to say, " If Borthwick said so, it must be true, for he is one who is never far from those parasites and flatterers who crowd ths court at present." THB 8I8TBB8. 8$ " Moreover, he told us that c^itam ambasftadors from France, who are now at the constable's hous*» in the Can^e, woulJ be pr<»- ««onted soon after." " And on what mission have they come ?*' asked Sybilla. " I know not ; but our right honourable informant, the worthy swashbuckler, hinted — and really this fellow often knowg matters which are far above his position — that they had come auent some royal marriage, as the young prince's proposed alli- ance with the House of England has been so fortunately broken off since my poor father's battle in the English Channel." Margaret trembled so excessively as Barton said this, that had the four lovers been less occupied with each other than they were, and had the childi-en not been engaged with the silver collar, some of them must have observed her singular emotion, which however fortunately passed unnoticed. Restrained by the presence of others, the conversation of Sybilla and Falconer (who, had the world been his, would have giren it for liberty to press her to his breast) was confined to tha merest commonplace ; but Robert Baiion and Euphemia, who, by Lord Drummond having consented that their marriage should take place in autumn, were under very different circumstances, had retired somewhat apart. She had passed her arm through his, and clasping her hands upon it, was looking up fondly in hia sunburned face, and was telling hiai in a low and earnest voice of all she had learned concerning his father's death off the Eng- lish coast ; how she had prayed for him, and had masses said for his soul; and with an air, in which steraness, bitterness, and tenderness were curiously mingled, the heir of Sir Andrew Bar* ton listened to her ; for his thoughts hovered between the bright eyes and soft accents of the fair girl by his side and the carnage of that day's battle in the Kentish Downs, when he would have given the best ten years of his life to have stood for an hour on his father's deck. In these thoughts, and in those of future vengeance, he almost forgot that this untimely event (though it put him in possession of a princely fortune, an estate in Lothian, and a mansion like a baronial castle in Leith) would necessarily delay his marriage with Lady Euphemia for many months to come. " How happy thou art to be rich, Robert," said Falconer, aa they descended to the street, after lingering long and bidding th^ ladies adieu. " Wealth does not always bring happiness, David," replied the seaman ; " and just now I am miserable, when I reflect on how my brave old father, and so many fine fellows, have been nimg overboard, to feed the hungry serpent of the sea." 36 THB YELLOW FBIGATE. "The ocean is wide," replied Sir David; "but thoii mayet meet the Lord Howard on it yet." " And he is not the man to avoid me." " I would give my right hand to be, like thee, Lord Drum- mond's friend," said Falconer, bitterly, and still thinking ot Sybilla. " Without thy stai-board fin, David, thou wouldst be of little use in this world; and mayst yet be the Lord Drummond's friend without so great a sacrifice ; besides, I can foresee, that between inti'igues, mayhap invasion from abroad, and domestic rebellion, the loyal and the good in Scotland will ere long require all their hands to keep their heads on their shoulders." " Dost thou think so ?" asked the arquebussier, with kindling eyes. " Yea — a child that knoweth neither how to pass a gasket or knot a reef point, might see it" And though no prophet, but only a blunt and plain-speaking seaman, Robert Barton spoke of coming events ^vith more fore- sight and acuteness than he was perhaps aware of possessing. CHAPTER V. JAMES III. *• Who ever approaclied me, but for some private object, or with some pri- vate passion to gratify ? Hatred, ambition, and cupidity form rouud me a circle -without issue, and as a victim is ever needed for each violence— that victim is ever myself." — Joan of Naples, Next day, the second of August, the sun rose above Dundee in the same unclouded splendour, and again the green hills, the ancient burgh, with its spires and castle, the bannered ships, and all the wide panorama of the Tay, were mirrored in its clear and waveless depths. Bells were tolling merrily in the tall spire of the great church, then designated the Kirk of the Blessed Virgin Mary in th< Fields, as it stood without the portes of the burgh ; and a wreath of those sacred lilies which still form the armorial beaiing of Dundee, encircled the now mouldering statue of our Lady, which, «vith the little infant Jesus in her arms, has survived the storma sif seven centuries and the rough hands of the Scottish Icono- clasts, and still adorns the western gallery of that stupendous tower which overlooks the " Gift of God." Almost drowning the peals that jangled trom the beliriet of JIMES III. 89 the Grey Franciscans in the Ilowfl, the Dominicans in the Friars Vennel, the Mathurins, and the nuns of St. Clare, the great bell of St. Mary (which was rent when too joyous a peal was rung for Prince Charles, in 1745,) rolled a flood of iron sound above the town, and summoned all the burgesses to meet a monarch whom the people loved, but whom the nobles hated — James III. — who was now approaching by the road from Perth. Beyond the western porte, and all the streets that led thereto, this road was crowded by the populace ; and there might be seen the merchants and burgesses, clad in plain broadcloth, with steel-hilted poniards in their girdles. By law, neither they nor their wives could wear scarlet, silk, or furring, and tl.e females of their families were restricted to short curches with little hoods, after the Flemish fashion ; and the ladies of poor gentlemen, whose property was under forty pounds, had to content them with the same. There, too, were officials of the ch\irch, doctors, and gentlemen, (having two hundred marks per annum,) in cloaks of scarlet, laced and furred ; and labourers, who had exchanged their work-dresses of gi'ey frieze and Galloway white for the holiday attii-e of red and green. From the eight stone gurgoyles of the market-cross, which, as usual in Scotland, was sui-mounted by a tall octagonal column, bearing the unicorn sejant^ resting its forepaws on the imperial scutcheon, wine was floNving, and a noisy contest waging among the young gamins, seamen, and others, who struggled and thrust each other aside, not always with good humour, to fill their quaighs, cups, and luggies with the generous Rhenish and claret, which gushed forth alternately from the mouths of the dragons and wyvems ; but order was stringently kept by the con- stable of Dundee, Sir James of Dudhope, who had brought into the burgh five hundred of his troopers from the Howe of Angus — all sturdy yeomen, who wore black iron casquetels, with oreil- lets over the cheeks and spikes on the top, and were armed with that deadly weapon the ghisanna, which had been but recentlj uitroduced. Escorted by a numerous retinue of well armed serving men, al] of whom had the sleuthhound embroidered on the sleeves of theif gaberdines, and were accoutred with jacks and bonnets of steel, two-handed swords, and wooden targets covered with threefold hide, the daughters of Lord Drummond, with their aunt the Duchess of Montrose, the Lady of Strathmartine, and many other noble dames from the Carse of Gowrie, were group^ together on horseback, awaiting the king. Eobert Barton, Sir David Falconer, and other gentlemen, attended them on foot, ind held their bridles, having assisnied their own horsea to th« 88 THE YELLOW FBIGA.TE. caro of the pages, who carried their swords and helmets, — for page was at that time indispensable to every gentleman of pre» tensions. Conspicuous amid all was the old Duchess of Montrose, a taB and noble-looking matron, whose height on horseback, when her stupendous coif was added, became almost startling; for, like old people generally, " being behind her age," she still retained one of those enormous head-dresses which our ladies had copied from the French, and which had been introduced by Isabel oi Bavaria, consort of Charles YI., who had to enlarge all the doori in the Palace of Vincennes after the arrival of his bride. Nor must we forget that redoubtable Knight of the Post and Chevalier d'Industrie, Sir Hew Borthwick, who loitered near, bowing and smiling to people who knew him not, or knowing, who disdained him. After completely failing to attract the atten- tion of Falconer or Barton, he swaggered through the crowd, clinking a pair of enormous brass spurs, and exhibiting a new scarlet cloak, which he had procured by the recent replenishing of his exchequer ; he tilted up the tail of this by his long sword, pointed his mustachios, and from time to time turned up his eyes complacently, to watch the nodding of an absurdly long feather that drooped from his head-dress ; and the latter being <» velvet hat, like that of an Englishman, the people murmured, and made angry observations about it. The undisguised aversion and fear with which the crowd made way for him wherever he went, were a source of satisfaction to this barefaced charlatan, of whom we shall hear more than enough perhaps, in time to come. He found ample occupation in observing the brilliant group which surrounded Margaret Cai-michael of Meadowflat, the Duchess of Montrose, and in sur- veying the brilliant colours of those splendid costumes which exhibited all the frippery extravagance and coxcombry of the time of James III. Gold and jewels flashed on everything, from the ladies' fair fingers to the bridles of their palfreys; but by far the greatest number of diamonds and pearls glittered on the long stomachers and among the braided hair of Lord Drum- mond's three beautiful daughters. Finding himself bluntly repulsed by Captain Barton and the arquebussier, Borthwick had actually the assurance to address the admiral, who came through the archway on horseback, sur- rounded by his barge's crew, who had no other weapons than their poniards and boat-stretchers ; but a determined and hardy- looking old bodyguard they were, with swarthy visages, long jfrisly beards, and broad blue bonnets. "Your humble servant. Sir Andi'ew," said the impudenl /AMES III. 9i j^ash buckler, elbowing a passage through them ; ** I dare say Jhe folks will marvel at this — a knight like me on foot, and thou, a seaman, on horseback." " And how came this to pass, Sir Hew P" asked the admiral, »vho, being older, had, perhaps, more complaisance or less pride Ihan Barton or Falconer. "Mj favourite horse was shod in the quick by a villanous Bmith, who is now dreeing the revrard of his carelessness in the jougs at the burgh cross." " I congratulate you on your good fortune," said the admiral, endeavouring to pass ; "by your scarlet cloak I perceive — " " That I have now more per annum than the Apparel Act re- quires : so far, right. Sir Andrew ; but, alas ! an ancestor of mine lost a noble estate by one act of indiscretion." "Ah!— How?" " By eating an apple," replied Borthwick, with one of his hideous grins ; " but so thou art come hither among us courtiers, admiral, to steer by the royal smiles." " The sailor's best compass is his conscience, messmate, and by tiiat I steer," retorted Wood, as he gave a peculiar wink to his coxswain ; then the Knight of the Post was gently put avside by the barge's crew, and the old admiral alighted on foot by the side of the Duchess of Montrose. Around this noble matron, who was then the second lady in the realm, the conversation was very animated ; and, notwith- standing the awful exclusiveness with which the Scottish noblesse in those days chose to hedge themselves about, it was evident that the venerable Wood, the gallant Barton, and the handsome arquebussier, were three centres of attraction. Margaret Drummond, still sad, pale, and thoughtful, paid little attention to the buzz and bustle around her; she gazed anxiously at the vista of the road which stretched westward past the Convent of St. Mary Magdalene and the Tower of Blackness ; a page held her bridle ; but the horses of her sisters were each held by their lovers, with whom they were conversing in low and earnest tones. Falconer spoke little, yet he was, perhaps, the happiest man in Dundee, for now he was by the side of SybiUa, and could converse with her untrammelled by the observation ot others ; and as the only matron who could control her actions knew neither of his hopes, (or, as she would have termed it, his presumption,) many little attentions were unheeded or unseen. A cloud of dust that rolled along the road announced the approach of the King, and soon a troop of nearly a hundred and fitly mounted men was seen approaching at a rapid trot. This cavalcade was well mounted on horses of a breed which, at that 40 THE YELLOW yBIGATB. time, was famous, a baron of Corstoii)hine having improved the high Lanarkshire horses by the introduction of some sturdy Flemish mares ; thus, for hacks and charo^ers, these large animal? were esteemed as superior to any of the four distinct breeds of horses belonging to the country. All their steeds were brilliantly caparisoned with rich saddles, housings, and bridles, covered with fringes and tassels of silk and gold embroidery, gilded orna- ments, and armorial bearings. On approaching the west porte of Dundee, the king and his attendants slackened their speed to a walk, but their horses con- tinued tossing their proud heads and flinging the white foam from side to side. The monarch was unaccompanied by his queen, Mar- garet of Denmark and Norway, who had departed, with many of her ladies, on a pilgrimage to the famous shrine of St. Duthac, in Ross, then esteemed a long and arduous journey. James III., a tall, handsome, and athletic man, was then ip his thirty-fourth year ; his complexion was of that deep brown tint which is not usual to the islanders of Britain, and his hair was black and curly. When in repose, his mouth expressed the utmost sweetness of expression, but there were times when it curled with bitterness and suppressed passion. His beard was closely trimmed; his air was soldierlike ; his manner dignified, at one time cold and reserved, but at others sad, even to despon dency, for he was the most unhappy of kings. On this day he wore a doublet of rose-coloured satin, em broidered with damask gold, cut and lined with rose-coloured sarcenet, and fastened by twenty -four little gold buttons. Over this he had a riding surtout of green velvet, laced. On his dark locks he wore a black velvet bonnet, with an embroidered band, a St. Andrew's cross, and white plume ; he had long riding-boota with embroidered velvet gambadoes and gold spurs. James, the young Duke of Kothesay, then in his seventeenth year, also tall, and a very handsome youth, inherited his father's dark eyes and hair ; his straight nose, with its fine nostril, and ftis mouth, which was like a woman's, but over it a dark mu& tachio was sprouting. The dresses of the king, the prince, and all their suite, were nearly alike in fashion, colours, and richness, unless we except the Lord High Treasurer, Sir William KnoUis, one of the most upright and valiant men of the age, who, as Lord of St. John of Jerusalem, and preceptor of the religious knights of Torphichen, wore the black di-ess and eight-pointed cross of Rhodez. Around this ill-fated king were many who were his friends, but many more who were his most bitter enemies, and whose loyalty or treason will all be revealed in future chapters i to wit, Sir James Shaw of SaucMe, who had JAMES III 41 been made governor of Stirling because his father had been slain by a cannon shot at the siege of Dunbar; Evandale, the Lord High Chancellor; Sir Patrick Gray of KynelT; the Lord Drum- mond; his brother, Sir Walter, who was Dean of Dunblane and Lord Clerk Register; the Duke of Montrose, who wa* Master of the Household and Great Chamberlain of Scotland; Lord Lindesay of the Byres, and Archibald, the great Earl oi Ajigus, a noble then in his thirtieth year — one whose f'^rce and restless ambition, indomitable pride, and vast feudal p^-.ver, made him a terror to the good king on the one hand, and to tl . 9 oppressed people on the other. Then, he was popularly known oy the sobriquet of Bell-the-Cat, from the quanit parable spoken by bim at Lauder Bridge in that memorable raid when he hanged every favourite of James IJI.; for, in his eyes, Robert Cochrane, the eminent architect, was but a stone-cutter ; Sir William Rogers, who composed many fine airs, but a fiddler ; Leonard, the engineer, was but a smith ; and Torphichen, the fencing- master, a miserable fletcher-^-men who disgraced James IIL by the preference which he showed for them over a proud, barbarous, and unlettered nobility, whom, like his father, he resolved to spare no pains to curb and to humble. Vain thought ! This Lord of Tantallon, who was Warden of the East and Middle Marches, and a chieftain of the powerful House of Douglas, overshadowed even the throne by his power; for the King of Scotland was but a laird in comparison to the great military nobles. Angus was dark and swarthy as a Spaniard ; his hair and beard were sable, his eyes black and sparkling, with a keen, restless, and imperious expression. Like his father — that valiant earl, who with ten thousand horse, covered the retreat of M. de Brissac and the French troops from Alnwick in 1461 — he con- stantly wore armour, and was now riding beside the Earl of ErroU, Lord High Constable of the kingdom, who had come with a few lances from the Carse of Gowrie, to escort the sovereign to Dundee. As this brilliant and illustrious cavalcade passed through the old moss-grown and smoke-encmsted archway which then closed the end of the principal street, a general uncovering of heads took place,and loudand reiterated cheers greeted James, who was beloved by the people, especially in the towns where there was now rising a wealthy middle class, who had no sympathy with, and who owed no fealty to, the great barons, but were rather at enmity with them. He who cheered most lustily, in forcing a passage through the gate with the courtiers, was the soi-disant Sir Hew Borth- wick, who endeavoured to place himself aa near to the kiny or rrjnce a*i Lord ErroU's lances would parmiL 42 THE TELLOW FEIGATE. On passing Sir Patrick Gray, he exchanged a glance of intelli- gence. " To-nigJd" said he, in a whisper. " WTiereV asked the Knight of Kyneff, " On the beach near Broughty" replied Boiihwick. And here the crowd pressed between them. The king, still j'oung and handsome, doffed his bonnet to the tall duchess and her fair companions, and the young heir of Scotland, whose spirited horse curvetted past them, bowed again and again to his saddle; and though he looked anxiously amid all that glittering group for one beloved face, by some fatality he never observed it, and caprioled through the archway by his father's side. Margaret Drummond, the foremost of the group, and almost anconscious of where she was, had watched the approaching party in silence with a beating heart. The shadow of her hood and veil concealed her pallor and the sad and anxious expression of her fine blue eyes. Amid those hundred horsemen and more who swept up to the gate, she had soon distinguished Rothesay, and held her very breath with joy as he passed, but alas ! without observing her ; and her young heart sank as he did so ; for though none knew it, save one old priest and two other persons, the crown prince of Scotland was her wedded husband — wedded at the altai* of St. Blane with all the solemnity of the ancient faiti? —but in secret. Barton and Falconer were now compelled to leave the ladies, and with many other gentlemen sprang on horseback, to accom- pany the admiral, who had now joined the royal cavalcade. The king received the fine old man with unfeigned expressions of affection and joy; for grief soon discovers true sympathy, and misfortune readily discerns the difference between flattery and devotion : thus James III. always felt stronger and more confi- dent when such men as Sir Andrew Wood, or Lindesay and Montrose were by his side; but such nobles as Angus aud Lord Drummond were his horror and aversion. " There are times, my faithful friend," said he to Wood, as their train fell back a little on entering the narrow Nethergaitt, •• wnen I envy thee and thy honest heaits the free and happv fifo they lead upon the open sea " "Yet a sailor's life hath its troubles and its crosses too— vitness the fate of Barton, ray gude auld messmate." ^ •* Of that, and of thy Flemish mission, we will talk at a jother time," replied the king ; " let us not mar the happiness I fee! at seemg thee, honest Wood, the dearest and most faithful of mj (toop)'^ by allusions to such cold and bitter subjects." JAMES III. 43 "God and St. Andrew bless your majesty I** shitr the admiral, whose eyes and heart overflowed as he spoke. " I have never done aught more than my duty to Scotland and my king, as man and boy, for forty years, since first I trod a deck — a puir sailor laddie, in the Peggie of Pittenweem. I would run my head into ft cannon's mouth, if by doing so I could serve your majesty; and that, I believe, is mair than half of these gay galliards ahead and astern of us would do; natheless their long pedigrees and thei' dainty doublets, with white lace knuckle-dabbers at the wrists." " Some day I shall go to sea with thee, Wood," said Kini James, with a melancholy smile ; for, by the soul of Bruce ! I begin to tire of this trade of kingcraft." " I like the land as little as a fish ; but should a day of fool weather ever come, when your majesty is safer on salt water than on Scottish earth," said the admiral, more than divining the secret thoughts of the king; "remember, there is a ship's company of five hundred good men and true, under the flag of the Yellow Frigate, every man of whom hath a seaman's hand and a seaman's heart, solid as a pump-bolt, and not like a per- fumed and painted courtier's, hollow as a leather bottle, or rotten like an old pumpsucker. Gadzooks ! I would like to see a few of these braw gallants drifting under close-reefed topsails, with a wind blowing hard from the east, and the craigs of Dunnottar on their lee!" The king sighed, and allowed the reins of his horse to drop upon its neck. " Your majesty is troubled," resumed the honest seaman ; " but if any of these dogfish barons have been at their auld work, just let me ken, and, by all the serpents in the sea ! they shall feel the weight of my two-handed sword, or I shall pipe away my barge's 5rew with their boat-stretchers, and they will soon clear the causeway of every lord and loon in Dundee." The king laughed. "Thou art indeed an honest heai-t," said he; for he found that they could converse freely, as the incessant exclamations of the people, as they pressed along the crowded streets, concealed their conversation from such jealous listeners as Angus and Dnimmond. ** A process so summary might destroy thee, admiral, and thy bargemen too. But indeed. Sir Andrew, 1 am sick of thia ferocious loyalty (if I may so term it) by which the nobles encircle ve like a wall of iron. Though short, my life has been a long and dreary labyrinth of intrigue and civil war, of crafty councila and infernal suggestions — a E^truggle between a tyrannical feudal peerage and a gallant people, who would, and by St. Giles's bonei •hall yet, be free ! The nation has placed upon my brow a ziowa 4ft fHE YELLOW FEIGATB. •f gold ; but the nobles have engirt my heart by a band of bum. mg steel !" _ As the king spoke in this figurative language, he glanced about Dim uneasily, almost timidly, and encountered the dark and stem risage of Angus, and the proud, inquiring eyes of Drummoud but they had not heard him, or, having done so, did not comprehend. " I speak figuratively, admiral," said he ; " but do you under- stand me P" ^ " Perfectly, your majesty, " stammered Wood, as with some ^rplexity he rubbed his grizzly beard ; " but come, come, Sir Hew," he added, on perceiving that worthy close to them j "ware ship— give us sea-room here, if it please ye." At that moment the report of cannon on the river announced that the Yellow Frigate and her consort were firing salutes, as the king and his train halted at the old palace of St. Margaret, where the Duke of Montrose, as Master of the Royal Household* and the Constable of Dundee, had already alighted, and were on foot to receive him. CHAPTER VL fHB PALACE OF ST. MAEGABBT. • The weird wan moonlight looketh doAvn, And silvers the roofs of the silent town- Silvers the stones of the silent street. That erewhile echoed to busy feet." This venerable royal resilience was situated at the head of a narrow street opening off the great thoroughfare, then called St. Margaret's Close, though by mistake the civic authorities have now given that name to another alley in the Nethergaitt, where stood an ancient chapel, dedicated to the Saxon Queen- Consort of Malcolm III., who had her dowry lands in the ad- jacent Howe of Angus. By her numerous virtues, the sister of Edgar Atheling was so endeared to the Scottish people, that every spot connected with her presence is still remembered; thus her name was long and ind'ssolubly connected with this little palace at Dundee. It was a gloomy and massive building, which stood within a court or cloister, and had over the central door, and all the windows, deep wad low-browed arches, covered with a profusion of catsheads %ad grotesque sculpture. These ai'ches sprang from short, round* THE PALACE OF ST. MARGABET. 46 Aud massive pillars, having escalloped capitals and zif^ag mould- ings. The deeply recessed windows were all barred with iron, fflazed with lozenged panes, painted with coats of arms and bril* Rant devices, designed by Robert Cochrane, the royal architect, an artist of great taste and talent — one of the murdered favourites of the king, who in his foolish generosity had created him general &£ artillery and Earl of Mar. It was in this palace that in the year 1209, Alan, Lord of jralloway and Constable of Scotland, espoused Margaret, niect d King William the Lion. Soon after the entrance of James III. the bells ceased to toll, and the sliip guns ceased firing; the wine and ale still poured at intervals from the stone spouts of the Cross ; but the acclama- tions died away in the Nethergaitt, and soon a stillness reigned around the small but crowded residence of the king. A stranger could uot have imagined that a monarch and a court were there —so ominous was the silence in that grim old Scottish palace; for James mourned over the caprices of his nobles and the insults he had endured from them, dming his iiine months' captivity in the Castle of Edinburgh, from which he was not released until Richard III. of England interfered in bis behalf, at the head of 30,(X)0 men. Young Rothesay mourned over domestic troubles, and a secret marriage which he dared not yet avow; while a crowd of cunning favourites on one hand, and of ambitious nobles on the other, watched like lynxes for the turning of any scale tliat would prove of advantage to themselves. Discontent was apparent everywhere in and about the court of James III. It was visible in the face of the king, for the recent slaughter of his courtiers by Angus and others, against whom he was nursing secret plans of vengeance; it was visible in the stem eyes of the noblesse, who, by a royal edict, had been desired to forbear wearing swords within the royal precincts — an order which they observed by arming themselves to the teeth, and doubling the number of their mail-clad followers; it was visible in the faces of the merchants, anent the twenty-one years' quarrel with Flanders ; and in the faces of the people, because they saw a disastrous struggle approaching between the feudal nobles and themselves — a struggle which the field oi battle alone would decide for their future good or evil. That evening the king gave a banquet to his false courtiers, ad to Admiral Wood, to Barton, and Falconer. Lord Dnimmond vas grand carver, Angus grand cupbearer, and the Laird of |[yneff grand sewer, or asseour ; but Rothesay stole at an earlj period from the table, and reached Lis own apartments unper- oeived. There be exchaniiced dresses Tritb hu faithful friea^, 4** THE YELLOW FBIGAT5. Lord Linclcsay of the Byres ; and putting on a mask, with a shiri »f mail of the finest texture under his doublet, issued by a private gate into the main street, just as the last shadows of the moun- tain that overhangs Dundee were fading away upon the river — or rather becoming blended with the general obscurity of the summer gloaming. The young prince wore a casquetel, and had his sword and dagger under the scarlet cloak of Lord Lindesay, for whom he was mistaken by the pages, yeomen, and archers, in the neighbour- hood of the palace, as he passed into the burgh. " Oho, my merry masquer !" said Sir Hew Borthwick, who had been loitering near the king's residence for the livelong day, in the hope of finding some one to drink or play with him, or fi'om whom to pick up any stray intelligence concerning the ad- miral's embassy to Flanders, and the errand of those envoys who were now at the house of the Provost in the Howe. " By the Holy Kirk ! I should know that dainty red cloak ; now, were those locks black instead of brown, and had that casquetel a feather, and those boots silver spurs instead of gold, I would say this gallant was my good friend Lord Lindesay of the Byres, and not the young Duke of Bothesay. But to the proof! On my honour, I'll follow him ; and if he is bent on the errand I suppose, this night may bring another thousand of King Henry's English pounds to my purse." Walking very quick after the young prince, who was carefully keeping himself under the shadows of the darkest and least frequented streets, the spy cried aloud, " Soho ! sir — I crave pardon ; but can you tell me what's ©•clock?" Annoyed by this impertinent interruption, the prince paused and laid a hand on his sword; but being anxious to avoid a brawl, turned and walked on at a quicker pace. Borthwick, who was now close at his heels, came abreast of him just at the comer of Fish-street, which was then quite dark and destitute of lamps. " Sir — thou with the mask," continued Borthwick ; " when I ask questions I expect to receive replies. Will you please to give me one ?" " TherSy blockhead !" retorted the prince, furiously, as he gave him a blow with his clenched hand which levelled the intruder in the kennel ; and as it was dealt skilfully, right undei the left ear, it was a full mmute before he recovered. Then, from the muddy street, Borthwick rose with a heart full of rage and vengeance. His first thought was of his soiled cloak ; his second of something else. " 'Twas the prince's voice !" said he ; "I was right ! Oho 1 — • let me watch, and watch well. How fortunate ! the more so iS \ keep tryst at Broughty to-iiight." THE PALi.CE OF ST. MABQAEET. W Aft«r knockln*; tliis fellow down, Rothesay hurrieii along th« street in the twilight. Borthwick saw hiin cross it near the great mansion of Lord Drumniond, which, with its dark fayade and round towers, over- shadowed the narrow way. There he disappeared under thft arcades, but whether he was lurking among them, or had been received into some secret door, Borthwick could not discover; yet for more than an hour he lingered there, watching to make sure that Rothesay had really entered the house, which he dared not approach, lest a thrust from a sword, unseen, might reward his impertinence, from behind one of the columns on which the superstructure stood. At last eleven tolled from the tower of St. Maiy's Church, and rem.embering his appointment (of which more anon), the swash buckler muffled his cloak about him, and set off at a rapid pace along the eastern road, which by the margin of the river led towards the Castle of Brought}', the lights of which could be seen twinkling on the low flat promontory that approaches the mouth of the Filth of Tay. CHAPTER VII. MAEGABET DEUMMOND. They gazed upon each other, With swimming looks of speechless tenderness, "Which mixed all feelings, child, friend, lover, brother. All that the best can mingle and express. When two pure hearts are poured in one another. And love too much, and yet cannot love less! Btboit. In a small round chamber, really ** a secret bower," of her father \ house, Margaret Drummond was seated alone. She was half kneeling and half reclining in an old pyne-dieu of oak, for she had just concluded her prayers ; and a missal, bound in velvet and gold, with a rosary of bright amber beads, lay in her lap. In a large holder of carved wood and brass-work, two tali candles lighted this apartment, which was hung all round with dark-red arras. Here was a little bed, raised scarcely a foot from the ground, canopied by a gilded cornice with plumes of feathers, with a small niche over the pillows, and within it stood the prettiest Madonna that ever came out of Italy, with a little font, which always contained some holj water. This was Margaret's Uttle bower, and at times Iwr gleeping-pUoe. 48 TEE YELLOW FRIGATE. As she lay half reclined in that old and grotesque prie-dtettf with her soil sad features partl^'^ hidden araid her clustering hair, her long lashes downcast, one white hand supporting her temples, and the other drooping by her side, she would have made a beau- tiful picture. She was still as death, as she listened for every passing sound ; but all was quiet in that vast mansion, whose uimates were now retired to rest. For more than an hour she had watched and listened, without hearing anything, loi the old walls of the house were several feet thick, and, together with the wainscoting and tapestry, nearly excluded all external sound, even by day. At last she raised her head and listened, while her fine eyes sparkled with animation. St. Mary's bell struck ten. " Ten — and he comes not yet !" said Margaret, rising, to sink again with a sigh into the prie-dieUy but almost immediately a knock was heard at the side of the apartment, and a soft voice sang the burden of that beautiful old song — " Oh. are you sleeping, Majrgie, 3Iy ain, my dear, my winsome Maggie! Unbar your door, for owre the muir Ihe wind blaws cauld frae Aberdaggie." An expression of joy spread over her features; her eyes sparkled again ; her cheek flushed, and springing from the prie- dieu, she raised the red arras, opened a little door by withdraw- ing a bar of oak, and stooping low the young Duke of Rothesay entered from a secret staircase, to which he alone had access, and which communicated with the lobby of the house and its arcades below. " Tears P" said the handsome prince, taking her tenderly in his arms, and kissing her on the lips and on the eyes. " Dearest, why this emotion ?" But Margaret only sobbed, drooped her head upon his breast, and wept. " It was my happineus to see you; but you did not observe me to*dav." * • See th»a, dearest Maggie," said the prince, throwing aside nis casquetel and rich mantle ; " I looked all amid the glittering crowd that stood by the western gate for thee, and thee only ; but, whichever way I turned, could see nothing save the enor- mous fantange of Madam the Duchess of Montrose. I vow it iooks like a kirk steeple ! But now," added Rothesay, with a smile of inexpressible tenderness, " thou forgettest, I have one other little mouth to kiss." Mart^arot drew back the curtain of an alcove, and there, within MARGAIIET DRUMMOND. 419 ft little couch, canopitd by rk-li liaii»^ing.s of rose-coloured velvet, lay a pretty child of not more tluiu eiL,'ht months old, pKirnj*, fair, and round, with its small face and cheeks, tinted like rose- leaves, encir3led by a lace cap. Two hands were also visible, so Bmall a^id so very diminutive, that but for their dimples they might \uve passed for those of a fairy. The prince knelt down, and whil'j his heart rose to his lips, kissed gently the soft warm chet>k of the sleeping baby that in after years was to be Lady Go don of Badenoch ; and after gently closing the curtain, again he pressed Margaret to his breast, and seated her besidp alia, " Life is so sweet !" said he, " when one has something to love, and is beloved again ; and you, my Maggie, are a diamona among women." ** And thou wilt never tire of thy poor little Margaret ?" " Tire of thee?" sighed the prince, smiling; "dear Maggie, since 1 knew thee I have only begun to live — to know joy. To me it seems that we have but one heart, one soul, and that without thee I should now have neither. And thou hast con- fided to me thy life, thy love, thy destiny, and this dear infant, the pledge of them all. Oh, Margaret, without thee, how dark would this world be to Rothesay ?" ** And yet, prince, for one long month we have not met." " Why call me prince ? Dear Margai'et, here there ia no prince." " Nor princess !" she sighed. *' There is — for thou art Duchess of Rothesay, and shall yet be Qaeen of Scotland — even as my ancestress, Annabella Drummond. was before thee." ** Alas, but for our unfortunate consanguinity through her. we had not been wedded in secret, or been driven thus to commit a mortal sin, I had not borne this poor child unloiown, or carried under my bosom a load of grief and shame." " Shame," reiterated Rothesay, kissing away her tears. ** Ak Margaret, have you forgotten that night in the cathedral f«4 Dmiblane, when we were so solemnly united, as Father Zuill anvi the cathedral registrars shall yet bear testimony in Parliament, Ere long the Bishop of Dunblane will bring from Rome the dispensation that shall clear us all, and then I shall again espouse thee, Margaret, with such splendour aa Scotland has not seen since Mary of Gueldi'es stood by the sids of James II. at the altar of the Holy Cross." " But till then, I must live in terror, and love in secret. Oh, prince, had I loved thee less — had I known or foreseen— but I most not wpiiry thee with unavailing: reproaches < prince ** 10 THE TETitOW FBIGATE. *' Prince again ! Now this is most unkind. Dear Margaret why call me otherwise than James Stuart — am I not thine own James P" " Thou art, indeed, and my beloved one !" said Margaret laying her beautiful head on the breast of her handsome lover- with one of her sweetest and most confiding smiles ; " but do pardon me, if I say, that there are times when I look forward and tremble — look back and weep. There is something to ma /JO terrible in the renewal of the old strife between the king and the nobles. My father, the proudest among them, is ever muttering deep threats of vengeance against the royal favourites , and in the quarrel which I see too surely coming, if all the pride and ferocity of the peers are unchained against the throne, what may be the fate of thee, of this poor tender bud, and of myself P Oh, James, think of the many who wish for the English alliance, and who would brush me from their path like a gossamer web !" " Thee !" exclaimed the prince, clutching his poniard ; " not Anfiis himself, even in the heart of his strongest fortresses, or amid his twenty thousand vassals, dare harbour an evil thought against the lady Rothesay loves. Nay, nay, Maggie, thou art Borely in error." " At a wave from the hand of Angus, all the troopers of the east and middle marches are in their helmets ; then think of the hatred of Shaw and Hailes — the treachery of Kyneff — the mad ambition of them all ! They are brooding over revolt — one da^ it ^\nll come. Would, dear prince, that we had never met oc rather, that I had never been!" " Still regrets," said Rothesay, impatiently. " Pardon me, dearest, if I weary thee — I do not regret, but 1 fear." " What glamour hath possessed thee to-night, Margaret? for, by the Black Rood, I never saw thee so full of dolorous Ihoughts."^ *' An evil omen, perhaps," said Margaret, with one of her faini emiles. " This morning, when looking for the prayers prepared for those who are in tribulation, I thrice opened my missal at the burial service for the dead." " And what then P" " Madam my aunt, the Duchess of Montrose, told me, to-day, it was a sure sign of coming evil." •* Your aunt the Duchess of Montrose is an — old fool 1" said ttie prince, bluntly. " Strife is coming — I know it," continued Margaret, empha- fcically ; " for I have read it in the face of my father and the ^EtfC^ of his friends, when Angus, the Lords Hailes and Hoip«% MARGARKT TBUMMOND. SI nnd Shaw of Sanchie, are with him. I have heard it in their deep whispers, and seen it in their dark and angry glances, when Lindesay or Montrose, Gray, Ruthven, Graliame or Maxwell, Wood of Largo, Falconer, or Barton — any who are the king's known friends— are mentioned." " And what matters it to us if all these high-born brawlers cnt each other's throats P The peers of Scotland are her curse, and in all ages have been her betrayers, and will be so until the detested brood are rooted out. A few names less on the peerage roll will better enable the grain to ripen in harvest, and the people to live in peace. My father, the king, has taught me this lesson, and I will never forget it. War will come — I know it ; for if we do not fight with England, we must fight among our- selves, just, as it were, to keep our hands in practice. But fear not for me, Margaret, and fear less for our little babe, for I can protect both, and must do so ; for my soul is but a ray of thine —my life, the breath of thee. My castle of Rothesay^ is thy proper dwelling, and I will place young Lindesay in it, with five hundred of his men-at-arms." The young prince left nothing unsaid which he thought might soothe Margaret's fears, and remove those dreary forebodings of coming evil in which she had indulged, and by dwelling as long as possible on the expected return of the Bishop of Dunblane from Rome, with the dispensation of Lmocent VIII., he com- pletely restored her to cheerfulness ; for that venerable prelate was in their secret, and had undertaken to remove^ the only obstacle that prevented the public or state espousal, which Father Zuill (who, being partly a seaman, and not over-pfj:ticular)had anti- cipated, by performing their marriage ceremony in secret, and thus ending for ever all those deep intrigues by which the three Kings of England, Edward IV., Richard III., and, lastly, Henry VIL, had each in succession striven to have the Crown Prince of Scotland wedded to a princess of their families. Though thus espoused, Rothesay and Lady Margaret were still lovers, for both were so young, that long and frequent absences, with the secrecy they were compelled to observe, lest the politic king, on the one hand, or the imperious Lord Drummond on the other, should discover their union, all tended to increase, rather than to diminish their tender regard. The prince remained by her side until midnight had tolled, and their conversation was all of themselves ; for so it is ever with lovers, who would cease to be so if they tired of their theme, which " is ever charming, ever new." Promising to return at the same hour on the second night following, James kissed his beautiful princess ancl her inumt 61 THE TELLO'W FRIGATltf. daughter, wrapped his scarlet mantle about him, and raising tti| arras, slipped down the secret stair, the concealed doer of whici Lady Margaret immediately secured. " She hath spoken truly," muttered the prince, as he turned the buckle of his belt behind him, brought the hilt of his sword round, and looked cautiously up and down the dark, silent, and desei'ted street for the interloper by whom he had been formerly followed. " She hath, indeed, spoken truly. A strife approaches that will drench the land in blood — a strife vv'hich even I cannot Rvert. This secret man'iage may destroy us both. Dear, dear Margaret ! Like my father, a fatality pursues me, and those who could guide us both may be the innocent cause of undoing ua aU." He hurried along the naiTow and quaint old street, and, favoured by his disuse and the watch-word, passed the sentinels, and reached the Palace of St. Margaret unknown and undiscovered. The unfortunate relationship which rendsrti a papal dispensa- tion necessary in those days, was caused by Rothesay's descent from Aunabella Drummond, queen of Robert III., who was a daughter of Margaret's great-great-grandsire. Sir John Drum- mond of that ilk. In her own time, this queen had been justly celebrated for her loveliness ; for, as Cambden says, " the women of the family of Drummond, for charming beauty and complexion, are beyond all others." Other writers amply corroborate this, and add, that three girls more beautiful than Euphemia, Sybilla, and Margaret Drummond had never graced the court of a Scottish king. CHAPTER VnL rHE FISHEBMAN OF BBOUaHTY. Oh weel may the boatie row. And better may she speed ; And weel may the boatie row, That wins the bairns' bread. I cuist my net in Largo bay, And fishes I caught nine ; There's three to fry, and three to broil* And three to bait the line. Scots Song. 4w CHEERFUL fire burned on the hearth of Jamie Gair, the ftlherman of Broughty-point, and it seemed to bum brighter as Tfwnug deepened on the land and sea. The oottage, which gbiod THE FI8HEEMAW OF BROUGHTT. f^ within a kail-yard, the gate of which was a pair of whale jaw« bones, consisted of a butt and a ben, — i.e.y an outer and inner ipartment, — the latter, serving as a kitchen, had a floor of hard- teaten clay; the walls were lined with wood, and in the rafleri irere a vast quantit}' of lumber, boat-gear, oars, sails, fishing- ereels, bladders, floats, and other apparatus stowed away aloft. Half of a cart-wheel felloe formed a fender (such as we may yet Bee in Scottish cottages), but the fire of bog-fir was blazing on the hearthstone, for iron grates were then an article of splendour and luxury. On the wooden shelf above the fireplace stood a tittle image of St. Clement, the mariner's patron, with the anchor of his martyrdom hung about his neck ; and on the back of the door a horseshoe was nailed, with a sprig of rowan-tree, th<5 usual precaution against witchcraft. From a rafter an q^^ was suspended by a rope-yarn. This was the hahys-egg, the first laid by a pullet, the gift of its granny, and caiefully preserved, a* a source of good fortune to it in after life. By the bright red light of the fii'e (which shone through a little window upon the waters of the feri-y) Jamie Gair sat mending his nets, and afiixing various large brown bladders thereto. A red night-cap was placed jauntily on his round curly head ; the sleeves of his blue flannel-shirt were rolled up to the elbows, displaying his brawny arms, and, where his thick beard and whiskers did not conceal it, his face was browned to the hue of mahogany by exposure to the weather. Mary, his Avife, a buxom dame of six-and-twenty, wearing one of those long-eared coifs, which are still worn by old women in the Lowlands, and a short skii'ted jacket, was fondling their son and heir, a baby about a year old, to which she was meiTily lilting in that manner peculiar to the women of Scotland, when a song is hummed and half sung, whUe a dish of stappit-haddie {i.e.y a haddock stufied with oatmeal, onionc>, and pepper), broiled before the fire, for breakfast next morning, as Jamie had to start early, and now sat late in the preparation of his nets. Jamie had not sailed that day to the fi^liing-ground for various reasons. He had passed a stray pig on the beach; and, moreover, he had on a pair of new boots — both ominous of a bad day's fishing, and, perhaps, of greater evil ; so he had spent the noon and evening beside his red-cheeked Mary at the cottage, mending and thoroughly repairing his nets for the morrow; for he believed as implicitly in these augurs of evil as in the mark of St. Peter's thumb on the haddock, and in the wonderful story of the twenty-four beautiful mermaids who swam round Inchkeith, and sought in vain to tempt Abbot William of Holyrood, who dwelt there as a heixait, to tiubt himself aiiuat on their tAiL, &4 THB YELLOW FBIOATB. which, happily for himself, the Abbot politely declined to do. Mary was pleased that he was at home, for the night was fitful, and dark masses of cloud crossed the face of the moon, which rose slowly above the ness of Fife. The wind swept in sudden gusts down the ferry, and the surf hissed as it rolled on the outer beach ; for the sand was thickly strewn with enormous whir boulders?, and was not a pistol-shot from the cottage door. Three strange ships had been visible in the offing all day, and. as evening fell, Jamie had observed them stealthily creeping towards the shore ; and when the gloaming came on, the heati- raost vessel was perhaps not three miles from the Gaa sands. \Vhen Jamie had scanned her last with his nautical eye hf ibserved her laying off and on, but without manifesting any intention of entering the harbom* or requiring a pilot, as she never fired a gun or showed her colours. Not a vessel had passed the ferry that day ; all was quiet in the harbour of Dundee, for the old superstition about the ill-luck of sailing on a Friday was still devoutly believed in. The hour was now verging on midnight. Jamie had mended the last hole in his nets, and the pretty Mary looked very sleepy and co}^, '• Hark, gudeman," said she, interrupting her lilting, " some one tirls the door-pin." At that moment a loud and reiterated knocking was heard, and the door-latch was shaken violently. Jamie relinquished the net for a boat-stretcher, lest the visitor might be, as he mut- tered, " some ground-shark or uncanny body," and angrily opened the door, saying, — " Wha the deil's this, makin' sic a dirdum at my door, at this time o' nicht P" " Sir Hew Borthwick," replied that personage, with grufi hauteur ; and Jamie perceived that he and two companions were well muffled in cloaks, beneath which he saw their long swords and spurs glittering. The two gentlemen were masked. " Thou knowest me, Jamie Gair, I think ?" " Ay, Sir Hew," replied the fisherman, doffing his night-cap, while something of a leer twinkled in his lively grey eyes ; " I took ye on boai'd the Yellow Frigate yestreen, for whidi — " " I owe thee half a lion ; here it is. Now, art willing to earn another honest penny P" " Troth am I, sir," replied Jamie, throwing on his storm* jacket ; " I've my gudewfie and a bonnie bairn to provide for. In what can I serve ye, sir P" *' Take us on board the vessel that is nearest the shore, au^ tiiou slmlt have an angel." THE FISnEBMAH OF BROtTGHTT. 5i An angel was thirteen shillings Scots — but now Jamie paused. " A Louis, then ? Phigue on't ! thou sailest nigh the wind, lian !" " Come, come, fellow," said one of the masked men, im- periously, " do not trifle, for we have not time to chatfer with guch carles as thee. Besides, this place hath a devilish odour of tar, wet twine, and old fish baskets " " Wow, sir, but you've a het tongue in your head, and a dainty nose on your face. But it's no the money that I tak tent o'," replied Jamie, proudly. " The craft that was close it shore, and hugging the land a' day, never showed her ensign j but three times lowered her boat, and three times hoisted it on board again. Her forecastle guns are levelled owre the gunnel, and not through portholes, wherefore I opine she is English ; so gentlemen, I crave your pardons, but I likena the job." " Jamie Gah-," said one of the strangers, in a hoarse whisper, * 'tis on the King's service we are boune ; here are six golden Jons ; art satisfied ? If not, I would not be in thy tarry boots, fellow, for all the Howe of Angus !" This man's voice startled Jamie, for he now recognised Sir Patrick Gray of KyneflP, captain of the adjacent Royal Castle of Broughty — one with whom he, a poor fisherman, dared not trifle for a moment. " I will do your bidding, fair sir; but my neighbour is away to the fishing-ground, whilk o' ye can handle an oar?" " 1," said Borthwick. " And I," added Gray of KyneflP; " so let us be oflf, for I have not a moment to spare." " Gudewife, thou wilt pardon us taking Jamie away for an hour or so ; and bethink thee, dame, how many braw gauds and new kirtles these golden lions will buy." And with these words Gray placed in_ Margo's hand six of those large gold coins of James II., which bore on one side a lion rampant, and on the reverse, the St. Andrew's cross. Jamie put on one of tiiose broad blue bonnets for the manufacture of which Dundee was even then celebrated, and after kissing the sleeping baby, aid, — " Now, Mary, let me kiss thee, lass, frae lug to lug." *• To spare time, I shall be glad to save thee that trouble, Gair," said Sir Patrick Gray. " Mony thanks, my braw gentleman," retorted Jamie, twirling the boat-stretcher in his brawny hand ; " but there are some things^ I Uke to do for myself, and this is ane o' them. Keep 8 cog fti' o' het yill on the hearth for me, Mary, gin the time I teturn ; and now, gij-s, let'g awa." .Or> THE TELLOW FBIOATB. As ihpy stumbled uloiig- the beach to the rude stone pier, vhcre Jamie's clinker-built boat was moored to an iron ring, " Dost see anythinj^ of those ships?" asked Sir Patrick Gray whom Jamie was careful not to recognise. " The headmost craft wasna a mile frae the Buddon-ness when the gloaining fell," replied the fisherman, looking keenly to the eastward ; " the wind was off the land then, but it veered round a point to the north. Wow but the moon bodes a grand haul o' herrin' off St Monan's the morn ! I wish I had gane to the fislnng-giound " " And lost these six lions — eh ? But here is thy boat, grum- \er," said the third personage, who as yet had scarcely spoken; now let us shove off." " If these are English ships, sir," said Jamie, as he assisted Ae three to embark, and cast off the painter, " I marvel mickle at their impudence in being oflf the Tay, while Sir Andrew Wood is at anchor in the Firth." " Marvel at nothing; but keep thy wind for cooling thy porridge, or for better uses," retorted the haughty Gray, rolling himself up in his mantle, and his companion did the same, while liorthwick and Jamie shipped their oars, and turned the boat's prow to the sea. When the shadows of the land and the square dark keep of Broughty, with its broad barbican and flanking towers were left; behind, the night (even while the moon was enveloped in clouds) was not so murky that objects could not be distinguished; yet tlie three voyagers looked in vain for a vestige of the ship which they expected to be nearest the shore. A pale stripe of white light cd^ed the horizon, and between it and the boat the waves were rismg and falling, like those of an inky ocean ; and in that streak of sky, and between the flying clouds, a few red, fiery Btais were seen to sparkle at intervals. Cold currents of air swept over the estuary, bringing ^,hat peculiar fragrance which a night breeze always bears off the land; and the hoarse roar of the heavy surf, as it bellowed on the rocks of Broughty Castle, and rcjlled far inland upon the shuigly beach to the eastward of it, could be heard distinctly, as the boat of Gair was pulled Juectly out to sea. " Tarry a moment, Gair," said Sir Patrick Gray ; " now where arc those vessels — eh ?" " You'll see them, sir, when they are lifted into the streak o* bglit ; there they are ! awa' doon to windward." " But what the devil is windward — which way?" asked B^rthwick. •• Well mayst tii(>u ask that, for it seain* to be whichever way THE FISHEBMIW OF BROUGHTT. 53 I tnm my face ; but oho ! I see them now !" added Gray— as the dark outlines of two vessels, with all their sails set, appeared in the distant offing, between the black vapours that seemed to rest on their mast-heads and the darker ocean on which they floated. *' 'Sdeath ! they are ten good miles off." *' Outside the Inchcape, at least, I should say," added hia hitherto silent friend. " But where is the Harry — this devilish craft, which Gail says was visible near the Buddon-ness ?" " I'll soon find out." ** What was the signal agreed upon ?" whispered Gray. " TJds," replied the oth.er, discharging a hand-gun m the air. Almost immediately afterwards, two sparks appeared about half-a-mile off; they brightened fast, and then two pale blue lights were seen burning close to the edge of the water. " 'Tis the Harry ! Give way, Jamie — give way, Borthwick !** said Sir Patrick. The oars dipped into the water, and the sharp- prowed boat shot over the waves towards the lights, which soon faded away and expii*ed. The night was now intensely dark, for not a vestige of moon was visible ; but soon a noise was heard above the incessant dashing of the sea. It was like the flapping of a sail ; and then one faint blink of moonlight, as it broke through an opening in the clouds, showed, close by, a large and high-pooped vessel coming suddenly to the wind, as if the watch had descried the boat upon the water ; and this proved to be the case, for almost immediately, a voice in English cried out, " Boat, a-hoy !" Gray, who answered the hail, and held the tiller, passed the 6sherboat under the tovv'ering stem of the English ship, and sheering sharply round on her krboard side, the little craft wa« *oon made fast; but Jamie was commanded to remain in her, while Sir Patrick Gray, Borthwick, and the third personage, who proved to be no other than Sir James Shaw of Sauchie, governor of Stilling, were introduced to the state-cabin, whera, with eom« reluctance, i^e are compelled to accocnpauj thdoa. IB tnV, YELLOW FfilOATA- CHAPTER IX. THE BAJS'E OF SCOTLAND. " By Chericul's dark wandering streams. Where cane-tufts shadow all the wild; Sweet visions haunt my waking dreams Of Scotland, loved while still a child; Of castled rocks stupendous piled. By Esk or Eden's classic wave. When loves of youth and friendship smiled, Uncursed by thee, vile yellow slave !" Leyden : The Gold Cotn. Fob many hundi-ed years a curse, or rather a fell spirit, hovered over Scotland, ana time seems never to have lessened its force, or the evil produced by the blighting breath of that yellow slave, of which he who found a grave so far from her shore — poor Leyden, one of the sweetest of our bards — has sung, in his beau- tiful Ode to an Indian coin of gold. This cui'se has been the mal -influence of a party within the Scottish nation, whose in- terests were separated from its common weal, who throve on its ruin and disgrace, and have ever been the ready instruments of oppression, neglect, and misrule: I mean that party distin- tfuished in the darkest pages of our annals as the English f:c- Hon — usually a band of paid xraitonj, T^hom even the Union could not abolish ; men who surrendered t) leraselves to work out the evil, disastrous, and insidious projects of the sister kingdom, for the purpose of weakening the power of the Scottish people ; and thus, as Schiller says, " never has civil war embroiled the cities of Scotland, that an Englishman has not applied a brand to the walls." To the patricidal efforts of this faction, which for many hundred years proved the bane of Scotland, our historians lay the blame of every dark and disa^jtrous transaction that blackens the page of Scottish history. Their intrigues brought on the troubles of Alexander III. ; the betrayal of Wallace ; and that long wai", which even Bannock- burn did not end ; the eaily misfortunes of James I. and those of James III., when England intrigued with Albany to gain the town of Berwick, and marry a prince of Scotland to Margaret Tudor. We recognise the same corrupt faction in those ignoble peer8 who pledged then.solves to the English king after the fight at Solway Moss, and thus broke the heart of James V., the most ^lendid of our monarchs ; who plungpd Scotland in bloodshed THE BLSi OP 8C0TLAN£ 9$ nnder the Regents Murray, Mar, and Morton ; who betrayed KirkalJy of Grange, and, ailer a life ol' woe, surrendered their •overeign to the axe of an English executioner. Again we recog- nise them, when " the master fiend, Argyle," and his compatriots, betrayed her misguided grandson to Cromwell, and when theif more sordid successors sold their country at the Union ; when they betrayed our Darien colonists to the Spanish allies of Eng- land, and the ^lacdoualds of Glencoe to the barbarous assassins of William of Orange. Sir James Shaw of Sauchie, Sir Patrick Gray of Kyueff, and the despicable swashbuckler, Borthwick, in the days of James III., represented the ignoble Scots of 1488. They were conducted by a page to the great cabin of the English frigate, in which several gentlemen, ail richly dressed, were lounguig on the cushioned lockers, and drinking Canary and Rochelle v/ine out of silver- mounted horns. A lamp, having a globe of pink-coloured glass, swung from a beam, and difiused a warm light around the cabin, which was all wainscoted, and hung with armour and weapons of various kinds. On the entrance of the three visitors, all the English officers withdi-ew, save Edmund Howard, the captain, who wore a scarlet cassock coat, richly furred with miniver, and a diamond sword- belt ; and his secretary, Iklaster Quentin Kraft, a London attor- ney, who was attired in plain blue broadclnth, trimmed with black tape, and who immediately produced writing materials, clean drinking homs, and more wine. "Welcome on board the royal ship, Harry!" said Edmund Howard, bowing, without rising, while a sneer of ill-disguised contempt curled his handsome mouth, over which hung a dark mustachio ; for, like a noble cavalier and honest mariner, he had an unmitigated aversion to the duty on which King Henry had sent him, and for the three Scotsmen, with whom he had to con- duct a court intrigue. " I am glad you have come ofi' at last j but why aU rigged in armour — aloft and alow, trom head \a heel, eh P" " In Scotland, men go not abroad without their harness," replied the Laird of Sauchie, haughtily. " By St. George " said Howard, " four hours ago I was sick of knocking about in the offing, and then having to creep in, like a thief in the nightfall, between the Inchcape Eock and yonder devilish sands. A fine business 'two Jd have been to have found myself beached in the shoal water, and jujt after this hot affair of ours with Sir Andrew Barton in the Channel. Be seated. Sir James; Sir Patrick, the Canary stands with you ; come to inchor. Master Borthwick — cannot you fix d a seatP By the fO THB TBLLOTT FHIGATB. bye, talking of Barton, I owe thee a hundred crowns, Borthwick Kraft, hand this gentleman a hundred crowns, and be sure U get his quittance lor them, ere they are stowed away." While this transaction passed, and the price of Barton's blood was being paid to Borthwick, the two rebellious barons divested themselves of their ample cloaks and masks, and each presentee? an athletic figure, completely cased in iron, save the head, and %rmed with daggers and long swords of a famous kind, then made and tempered at Banff. Shaw of Sauchie was older, less bloated, and less dissipated in aspect than Gray; but he had the same cunning eyes, large mustachios, and bullying or imperious a-;pect. " Now, then, Captain Howard, let us to business," said he, filling his wine-horn. " Ay, to business," added Borthwick, filling his, and imitating the nonchalance of the baron. " Well," said Howard, " how does his Grace of Rothesay's amour proceed (for of that we have heard at the English court), and what chance is there of his ranging up amicably alongside of a fair English princess, yard-arm and yard-ai-m, with Cupid ahead ?" " Very little, I fear, since this affair with Barton." " Barton was a brave seaman, and man of honour," said the Englishman ; " but," he added, contemptuously, " 1 have just paid for that piece of sport." " You have paid King Henry's spy," retorted Sir James Shaw, warmly; " but remember that King James, and more than he, old Andrew Wood, and Barton's eldest son, will amply avenge your battle in the Channel, unless we have them both fettered, or disposed of otherwise." " Then dispose of them, in God's name, and as many more angiy Scots as are in the same unruly mood ; for Kiag Henry wishes no more of this work; and indeed, ere long, an ambassa- dor will leave London, to clear up the story of oui' conflict with the ships of Barton, against which, I think, tve may fairly set off Lord Angus's invasion of Northumberland." ** Well, but what is King Henry's new proposal?" " Simply this, Sir Patiick ; that by force or fraud we must either bring off the young prince and have him wedded to the Princess Margaret Tudor, in terms of their betrothal, or we must kidnap fine young Dame INTargaret Drummond, whichever your most worshipful knighthoods think can be most easily iccomplislied, for we have undoubted proofs that Rothesay lovet *' Ah I — is it 80 P" said Gray, with a dark frown ; " but what THF BANE OF SCOTLAND. 61 Aoes Henry VII. propose to do with herP for I would not have evil done to the maiden." " He would shut her up in some remote Wel^h castle, of perhaps the Red Tower of the Dudleys near Wem, where she «\ould never be heard of again. Like a wise old fellow, King Henry knows well that love is fed by the society of lovers ; but that, in absence or separation, the fire goes out, and ilm passion dies. TbiiB, if we could spirit this dainty dame on board the Hairry " " Easier said than done. I have reason to believe/' saiif Borthwick, "that the young prince loves her better than life, and would never survive her loss." " I have heard it said that thy mother was a witch, Borth- wick," said Gray, tauntingly ; " I would we had the old dame'i aid to-night." Borthwick darted secretly at the speaker one of his sinister and ferocious glances, for this taunt stung him deeply. " The prince is only seventeen — a cliit, a child — and may yet love twenty better than little Margaret Drummond," said Sir James Shaw ; " but to engage in a plan so desperate, I would require King Henry's written assurance of a saJfe sanctuary in England, for mystslf and friends, in case this plot were blown and we obliged to fly ; moreover, I would require another written assurance that, if f Jl succeeded — that is, if Lady Margaret (£»#- appears, and Rothesay mames your Margaret Tudor " " Princess," suggested Howai'd, stroking his mustachio. " Well — ^well — your Princess Margaret — that Henry will use all his influence with Rothesay and the king to have my lands of Sauchie, in the shire of Stilling, created into an earldom, together with a gift of two of the best baronies now possessed by the Duke of Montrose, supposing that by the same happy intrigue the said dukedom is abolished, Angus made Lord Chancellor, and the Lindesays driven to Flanders or the devil !" " Um — um — Flanders, or the devil," muttered Master Qiientm Kraft, writing very literally and very fast. "Ajid I," said Sir Patrick Gray, "require the same royal assurances, with Henry's recommendation to have my barony of Kyneff and estate of Caterline created into a lordship, with the captainrie of Broughty to me and mv heirs, heritably and irre- deemably, and the salmons' cruives of the Dichty, now pertaining to the Laird of Grange, who must fish for his salmon elsewhere." " In all these particulars, if Henry's interest fail not, you shall be perfectly satisfied. Write carefully, Master Kraft." * And I—" began Borthwick. 65 THE YELLOW FHIGATB. "Shall have two hundred crowns yearly, to be paid by the English ambassador. Ah ! your eyes open like port-holes at that." " But suppose there is no ambassador, which happens very often, Captain Howard ?" "Ah! to be sure; then the Governor of Berwick shall pay thee." " But how are we to have this pretty maiden brought on board an English ship P" asked Howard. " "Tis the most difficult matter of all. A dose of poison might serve us better, and obtain our ends without much trouble," suggested Borthwick. The ruffian barons eyed each other, but did not speak. " Nay, nay," said the gallant Howard ; " by Heaven, fellow, if thou makest another suggestion such as that, I will order the boatswain's mates to fling thee overboard in a hencoop ! In the king's service I have usually carried more sail than ballast — but poison ! a sailor's curse on't ! Egad, 'tis a word never men- tioned to a Howard, and moreover," he added, with a furious glance, as he rose from the table, " 'twas a villain's thought in thee !" " Softly," said Sir Patrick Gray, with alarm ; " let us not quarrel, Captain Howard, about poison or abduction ; none of us are severe moralists — " " Scot — you speak for yourself, I presume." " I would rather marry the damsel myself than that we should have high words anent the disposal of her. Bethink thee, Englishman — 'tis as much as your life is worth to be this night within gunshot of the Scottish shore ; and this gentleman " "What— Borthwick?" « Yes, he " " Might inform Sir Andi-ew Wood, you mean to say," continued Howard. " Well, I should like to see your admiral's Yellow Frigate come out of the river, with all her iron teeth bristling; for now that Barton is gone, he is the best and bravest seamap that treads upon a deck. Nay, nay, none of you will betray m&^ unless King James pays better than King Henry." Gray and Sauchie were stung by this bold remark, and the former hastened to say — " How know we not but the prince may have wedded the Lady Margaret Drummond ?" " Pshaw ! what would it matter if he had P She is only th« daughter of a subject — a baron." *' Captain Howard, you talk like an Englishman, who knows not Uie temper of our Scottisli barons. Her father can rouse all THE BANK OP 8C0TLAXP. 69 Stratheam, and set Scotland on fire. Beware lest the flames roU over the Border." " Master Borthwiclc, you did not inform me that the Lord Drummond was so powerful, or this amour so dangerous." " If King Henry had written to me " Here the Englishman burst into a loud fit of laughter. " King Henry write to thee ! By Jove, I like this impudence —it amuses me excessively !" " So it seems," growled Borthwick, every glance of whose sinister eyes indicated the restless and evil soul within. '* Bah .' people don't write that which is more safe when borne by word of mouth. Henry might hang me, or the King of Scots might hang us all, for letting our gaff too loose — our words would die with us ; but letters will endure while ink and paper last. Yet where is our bond in cipher, of which King Henry has the key — we cannot do without that. Master Kraft, is it ready ?" " Here it is, sir," replied the little secretary, laying a piece of parchment on the cabin table. " Then, sirs," said the English captain, *' when you have signed it, this shall acquaint King Henry that ye are his liegemen, and pledge yourselves, with life, limb, and fortune, to further the English alliance of His Grace the Duke of Rothesay, on the imderstanding that Henry, by his new ambassador, urges your claims to the peerage, and that, on the espousal day, you each receive the sum of twenty thousand English crowns." " It is agreed," said Shaw of Sauchie, as he and Gray touched the pen of Kraft, who \vrote the names they were unable to sign ; but Borthwick, having been educated as a priest, wrote in a bold hand, amid a multitude of flourishes, Heu Bortwyck, Knyt, at the bottom of this precious document. " From the Inchcape, gentlemen, we must run over to St Abb's-head ; and after hanging off the land for a day or two, we will stand again towards the Tay. Here, on the evening of the 10th — St. Anthony's Day — we will be in the offing; if by that time you can give me this dainty dame to stow under hatch, all your fortunes are made." " Enough — we shall see to it. Captain Howard," said Si* Patrick Gray, resuming his mask and cloak. " Remember this, sir captain," said Borthwick : " the king'g chaplain, James, Bishop of Dunblane, who is returning from Rome, will pass through England in disguise. I would recom- mend his capture, and the seizure of whatever papers may be found in his possession, for they may prove of much servic* jj Henry, your king/' 64 TUB TTLLOW FRIGATE. "Another thousand crowns to thee, Master Borthwickf Zookers ! man, thou wilt die rich as a Jew of Lombard-street ! Now then, Kraft, hast thou scribbled all this into thy devil's log-book ?" ** Yes, sir," replied the secretary, securing his volume by a curious lock in the iron band which encircled it. " Then fill the wine-pots. Take another cup, gentlemen," said the Englishman, with that contenipt for his guests which the necessity of pandering to the snake-iike policy of his court coiild not repress. ^ " 'Tis time we were all in our hammocks ; and your boat is waiting, sirs." Shaw and Gray, who knew very well that they were in his power, gave him dark and savage glances ; and as they left the cabin, they heard him issue orders to — "Lower away the port-lids, larboard and starboard; to run back the culverins — lash and make fast ; to stand ojEF before the land breeze ; for," said he, " we must make the offing ere day- break — ay, and be hull down, if we can." They left the English ship just as the bell rang the middle watch, and the hoarse voice of the boatswain was heard ringing in prolonged echoes between decks. Howard, who mistrusted his visitors, by an after-thought, came in person to see them over the ship's side, and into their boat. " Fare ye well, gentlemen," said he, in his jibing way. " Adieu, noble Master Boitliwick — I beg pardon — Sir Hew. I hope you will not forget your visit to Ned Howard, and the good ship Harry. I pray it may not shorten your cruise for life." " Hush, hush !" said Shaw, as the oars plunged into the water. " Howard and the Harry!" muttered Jamie Gair, under his thick beard, as he bent to his oar and slued the boat's head round towards the land, where the bright-red light of his own cottage window was streaming on the water, and while the English ship filled her headsails, and stood off towards the sea. " My certie ! but this will be braw news for Rabbie Barton and auld Sir Andrew! Here's been some fause wark; but I'll spoil your •port, fair gentlemen, lord-barons though ye be ; for the admiral shall hear o' thi^, though I should hang owre Broughty tower for it." The mast was stepped, a sail set, and before the south-east wind, that blew from the Fifeshire hills, the boat glided over the starlit water like a wild sea- mew. mi BomwAiKs TAnv. 8C CHAPTER X. THB boatswain's TABN. •* Voyt past the limit, which hie course divides, Wlien to the north the sun's bright chariot ride«» We leave the winding bays, and swarthy shores, Where Senegal's black wave impetuous roars ; And now from far the Libyan Cape is seen. Since by my mandate called the Cape of Green." The Lusiad. /amie Gate had the stroke oar, and Boi-thwick the other ; thej bent all their energies to the task of pulling the boat against an ebb-tide, which was fast leaving bare and dry the Drumilaw Sands, and the Icntf stretch of desolate beach at the promontory known as the Budaonness. Jamie kept his ears open to catch any passing remark from the high-born traitors who occupied the stem-sheets of his boat; but, lull of their own dark thoughts, they remained silent until she was within a bowshot of the beach, ft' hen the Laird of Sauchie said, — " So, on the evening of the 10th, we must have this dame sail- ing merrily at sea ! A perilous promise !" " Perilous !" said Gray, gruffly j " how so P" " Ken ye. Sir Patrick, what the law saith anent trysts witli Englishmen ?" ^ " I ken little, and I care less," replied the Knight of Kvneff. doggedly; "but what says it P" " That if any Englishman enter the kingdom of Scotland, without the sign-manual of the king, and is found at kirk or market, or in any other place, he shall be the lawful prisoner of whoever chooses to seize him. That the Scot who brings an Englishman to tryst, shall be committed to ward, and have his goods escheat. For such are the laws of James II. and his par- Uament of 1455." " Well, we who are barons of parliament, and make the laws, have assuredly the power of breaking them. Besides, he who can lead a thousand lances to the king's host, can make laws to euit himself." " But how know ye not. Sir Patrick, but this fellcw Borth- wick may betray us. " He dure not mar his profit and our own " '"he boatman, then — he might suBpect ub—- yea, might 9f THE YELLOW FEIGATl. " Assure me of that," liissed the low, deep voice of Gray, " and 1 will drive this poniard into his brisket." Jamie's heart leaped, and he grasped his oar tighter ; hut at that moment the boat ground ed on the beach, and, while they sprang ashore, he hooked his kcdge-anchor in the sand, placed the oars on his shoulder, and doffing his bonnet to his honourable employers, turned away towards the red light that yet streamed from his cottage window. " Be discreet, good fellow," said Shaw, in an impressive whis- per, as he placed a coin in Jamie's hand. "Now, fai*e ye well, carle, and God speed ye." *' Be close as a steel-vice, Jamie Gair," added Borthwick, " lest I tell the Lord Chambei-lain that there is a rookery in the tree« at thy kailyard, and tliou shalt be sorely fined, and mayhap imprisoned in Broughty; for Beltane time is past, the com is ripening, and thou knowest the law." With these warnings they left him, and, muffled in their cloaks, strode hastily along the beach, towards where the outline of Broughty, square, black, and grim, on its rock that jutted into the ferry, rose between them and the starlit sky — for now the clouds had disappeared, but the moon had waned. Jamie turned to look afler the English ship, but though almost shrouded in haze, he could perceive her standing off towards the south- east with all her sails set. " An angel — a golden angel!" said Jamie, turning over the bright coin in his hard hand. " By my saul, there maun be some dark plot in the wind when these limbs o' Satan pay sae weel ! Jamie Gair, Jamie Gair! tak ye tent; for this braw fee may never bring aught but dool and sorrow to thee and thine. Now to kiss my doo Mary, and then, ho for the admiral ! for he shall hear o' this heUicate job, though I should never see another sun blink down the Carse o' Gowrie." Entering his cottage softly, this honest fellow found his bloom- ing Mary asleep by the warm ingle. The fire had smouldered on the hearth, and the stappit-haddie had been allowed to burn ; but the bicker of spiced ale stood yet by the wooden fender. Jamie took a long draught, wiped his mustachios with the back of his brown hand, kissed Mary, and awoke her. " Where awa noo, gudeman P" she asked, perceiving that h« took up his walking-staff. " Dundee, lass." " Dundee, at this time o' the morning, when you should be beside me in your bed. And mind, ye maun awa to the fishing- ground by sun-rise, Jamie." " Na, na, lass, I have other bait to my line. There hfts oeei THE boatswain's TARN. 67 foul treA^on on the water this night, Mary, and I maun e'en seek the admiral ; but, 'odsake, say nae wora o' this to the neigh- bour?, or the hellicate Captain o' Broughty may mak ye a widow before your time, lassie. In a siccar place, put by the braw gowden fee, till we see what monies o't, lest dool and disgi-ace fa* on us. And now, lass, fare ye well ;" and pulling his broad bonnet over his face, Jamie departed for Dundee. The keep of Broughty was reddening in the rising sun, as the fisherman passed it, on the landward side, for safety and con- cealment, keeping as much as possible among the whins and other *vild bushes that grew on the margin of the wide salt marsh which then stretched from the barbican of the fortress round by the hill of Balgillo. The tide had ebbed ; the sands of Monie- freth and Barry were dry, and the bare promontory of the Bud- doiiness stretched far into that blue sea, on which the three Eng- li -h ships were then diminished to mere specks. Jamie gave a last glance t-o ascertain their course, and huiried on towards the town. The summer morning was beautiful; the Tay lay hi its basin likv. a sheet of glass, on which the ships, the town, and sunlit hills were mirrored. The midsummer flowers were mingling with the bluebells, the crimson foxglove and wOd hollyhock; tlie hill of Balgillo, with the desert muirland that lay at its base, were waving with purple heather-cups. The fisherman's heart expanded joyously with the beauty of the opening day; and after hurrying past the old castle of Claypotts, then a seat of the Abbot of Lindores, he reverently said a short prayer to St. Peter, the patron of his craft, in the little chapel of St. Rocque of Nar- bonne, which stood without the Cowgait-porte, on the east side of the Bitter Burn. This little fane, like all other holy edifices in that age, remained open night and da}' ; and in the principal shrine stood an image of the saint, having the left breast marked by the cross which appeared upon his bosom when bom into the world. A little burying-ground encircled the cell. From thencfe a narrow lane, causewayed with large round sea-stones, and en- cumbered by outside stairs which ascended upwai'd to the houses or descended downward to the cellars, where the merchants were beginning to display their wares, led to the centre of the town, and to the Kirk of St. Clement, near which another naiiow lane then led directly towards the harbour. The streets were then unpaved, and were full of gleds and corbies, which squattered and fed on the offal of the narrow wynda and fleshers' stalls. Some of the loiterers at the Craig of St. Nicholas readily permitted Jamie to use their boat, and in a few minutes he founi 68 THK TEtlOW FRIOATB. himnelf on the ample deck of his Majesty's Yellow FrigaU^ which was riding with her head to the stream, her yards all squared to perfection, her black rigging all taut as iron rods, and her broad blue ensign and pennon flaunting in the morning wind. The watch on deck crowded about the early visitor. " Welcome on board, Jamie Gair," said Master Wad the gunner, who was in charge of the deck, and was a short-legged personage, with a red visage, enormous black beard, and stunted figure, encased in a rough grey gaberdine ; " what na wind hath bla%vn ye here betimes ? Are ye tii-ed o' your lubberly trade o' fisherman, and come to take service under the broad pennon o* the admiral ? I marvel rauckle ye have na tired lang sjoie o* sailing ilka morning to that weary fishing-groimd, like the son o' a shotten herring. I would rather drink bilge-water a' my da3's, than turn fisherman again." " My best anchor — my bonnie Mary — is still at hame, Maister Wad," retorted Jamie ; " but we a' ken how your Tib broke from her moorings and went adrift, naebody kens where." *' Tut — I have ten Marys as gade as yours," replied the gun- ner, " foi'bye a Meinie and a Peg to boot." " I have nae time for daffin the noo, Maister Wad. Is the admiral on board ?" *' No— he is at the king's lodging, and has no come off yet ; but what would ye wi' himV " That which you maunna hear, Willie. Then, is the Captain Barton on board ?" " No — he. Sir David Falconer, and a* body else (but the chap- laiii) are ashore at St. Margaret's." Gair stamped his foot, and scratched his beard impatiently. "Can ye no tell us what's in the wind, man?" asked the seamen, as they clustered about him, in surprise at his excitement. " Come," said Cuddle the coxswain, " what can you have to tell the admiral that we canna hear? Out wi' it, hand owre hand, man," •' It's something that will find ye a' work for a week to come , something that may knock the harns out o' half your heads/* replied Gair, angrily. " I have seen foul weather in my time, brother," growled Archy of Anster, the boatswain ; " and I have seen some gey het work, too, between the English Channel and the Rock o' Lisbon ; but I marvel what the deil ye drive at, Gair !" " May I never drink aught but black bilge-water, if I dinaa think him clean daft," added the gunner ; " but he canna see the aidixiiTal till «iid-day, when the kiriji's council breaks up ; saej THE BOATSWAINS YARJf. 09 Juak, after Father Zaill hath piped all hands to mass, you had better just take your breakfast wi' us, like a douce man, and meet the admiral after, when tide and time suit." Aware that he could not entrust his secret with the seamen, among whom it would have spread like wildfire, and cost him, perhaps, his life — for a word from Sir James Shaw, or the tyrannical captain of Broughty, would be sufitcient to hang a poor fisherman among the rooks that Borth wick spoke of— Jamie was obliged to exert his patience, and join the seamen at their mess of Lammas ale and porridge in the forecastle, where, after this humble repast was ever, Master Wad produced his fiddle, and, after mass was done and the chaplain gone ashore, sung the famous ditty, still known to our fishermen, of the " Four-and-twenty mermaids, who left the port of Leith, To tempt the fine auld hermit, wlio dwelt upon Inchkeith ; Nor boat, nor waft, nor crayer, nor craft had thev, nor oars or sails, Their lily hands were oars enough, their tillers w'ere ttcir tails," &c. "I could tell ye something mair wonderful than the r.ier- maiden's voyage, brother," said the grey-haired boatswain, who dearly loved to spin a yarn whenever he could get listeners. He was a rough-visaged Scot, with two great red-spotted cheek- bones, H nose that had a sword-cut across it, and which stuck out between two enormous whiskers that mingled with his grisly beard. " Our gude chaplain thinks to discover a process whereby he can make ships proof to the shot of culverins— for so he told me yesternight." " -By my faith, old Ropeyarn," said Cuddle the coxswain, who was his exax3t counterpart, " that will be better than muddling his brains in trying to mak burning-glasses that will set a fleel in a bleeze at a league's distance." " Brother," said the gunner, striking his large-jointed handa together emphatically, for between such inventions, it seemed not improbable that his profession would prove a useless one; •'brother, I ken navagation as weel as maist men ; I have run «1 Europe down twenty times, frae the North Cape to the Gut o' Gjibraltar— ay, I have seen the Rio Grande, and the ^reat peak 0* the Fortunate Isles, that rises right out o' the sea life a spear- oead, and flames like a torch ; I have seen the sea-devils that ■wim round the Cape de Verd, where the ghntijig o' the moon makes men mad, and where St. Elmo's light dances like a will- o'-the-wisp on the main-mast held : yet it is a blessed light, for it ever precedes a calm: b.-l may I ne'er drink aught but bilge, if I c^n swallow a yarn uke yours. I have seen rauckle in my time, but never saw I a ship's side that would turn a cannon-shot, or a sail that had a hole burned in it hj- a miiTor t^n milea air» : 70 THE YELLOW FBIOATB. vet oar cliaplam pretends to ken o* baith. My word on't, lads, ne sails beyond his commission, and will be brought up ali ■tanding, some day, by the bishops, for sorcery, maybe." " He is as gude a man as ever trod a pLmk," said the coxswaia, * but his noddle hath as many crotchets as the dog-star hath rays. Minnows and mackerel ! to believe in shot-proof ships!'* " Why not ?" asked the boatswain, gruffly. " I'll tell ye what I have seen, messmate — a shot-proof man. Now what think ye o' that ; one, at least, who was proof to steel." *•' I'll tell ye when I hear, brother," replied the seaman : " was it one o' the antipodes, who walk on their heads ?" " Weel, I care na if I spin the yarn before the watch is called," said the boatswain ; " but first, here is to the gude saut water, and a' that live on't !" and he poured down his capacious throat the iast of the ale, and after wiping his mouth three or four times with the cuff of his gaberdine, spitting twice thi'ough an open port, and fixing his eyes on the beam overhead, he thrust his hands into his pockets, placed his h^gs on the deck, his back against a gun-carriage, and began thus : — "Ye maun ken, messmates, that after leaving the Gut o Gibraltar, we were beating westward against a head-wind. Our craft was the Peggie o' Pittetitoeem, hameward bound from Bar- celona, for Leith, wi' a mixed cargo o' wine and oil, fruit, cork, and hides, and Sir Andrew, the admiral, who was then but a sma' merchant-skipper, had ten brass culverins in her, forbye some braw pateraroes along her gunnel, for the behoof o' the heathen Moors o' Barbary if they daured to meddle wi' us. After losing sight o' the Castle of Gibraltar, and the chapels of our Lady of Europe and our Lady of Africa, that stand on ilka shore, the wind veered round to the north-west, and we weiv obliged to bear right away before it for well nigh a week, till we had mony fei«s o' being blawn round Cape None, or getting into the downhill currents, that bear ships away to the southern pole ; or, what is waur, being blown off the earth a'thegether : for the warld is round, ye ken, just like my bonnet," continued this ancient mariner, balancing the article named in his hands ; " and flat, as ye may see, for the sun dips down to port at ni^ht, and then comes up to starboard in the morning, rising at the edge, like this penny piece. Weel, ye wad flee owre its margin if ye stood on owre long wi' your canvas set, and so be launched out into space like a hoodie craw. The ship o' auld Sir Patrick Spens was ance a' owre but the waist, when the current swept her back again, and then she hauled lier wind. At last we saw the high peak o' the Fortunate Isles rising frae the sea, vomiting fire and brimstone, its side covered in one place wi' glistening snow, in »HE BOATSWAIN'S TA£If. 71 another vn a forest o' ^ruen laurel bushes, wherein the yellow oirds o' the CanarieB built their nests in the warm sunshine. ** The gale deid awa, and the sails flapped against the masta and rattlins ; the sea became like glass, and there was sae little wind that the Peggie wouldna answer her helm ; but it mattered little, for Sir Andrew and auld Gibbie o* Crail had been in these seas before, and we kent our whereabouts. We were within less than half a mile o' the shore, but in fifty fathoms water by the line. There was nae current, and the ship lay like a log, wi' her decks blistering in the sun. Sir Andrew thought it wad be a gude time to get fresh water, for our last pint was in the scuttle- butt ; sae we hove up twelve casks, the crews o' the yawl and pinnace were piped awa, and cheerily we shipped our oars, and pulled for the shore, as I weel mind, singing merrily tlie auld baUad,— ** • Oh, who id he has dune this deed, And tauld the king o' me, And sent us oot at this time o' year, To sail upon the sea ?' Every man o* us had a dmk and gude braid Banffshire whinger in his belt, forbye ten that were armed wi' crossbows, for Sir Andrew kent of auld that the Guanchos o' the Fortunate Isles were unchancey chields to warsle wi'. Gibbie o' Crail, wha had served wi' the Spanish buccaneers under the Captain Bocca Roxa (he whom Barton slew off Cape Ortegal), tauld us that they had once landed there, and put a hail village to fii'e and sword, and that wi' his ain hand he had killed the prince o* the place by a slash across the nose wi' his boarding-axe. " We landed at a sma* bit creek among black rocks, covered wi' ashes, dust, and pumice-stane ; but among them grew the green sugar-cane, the olive, and the bonnie cotton-tree. The wee birds wi' their gouden wings flew aboot frae branch to branch, singing in the oright sunshine. A* the sweets o' summer were there, and they wiled mony o' our messmates awa frae the wark o' filling and bunging the water-casks to stray in the laurel woods that grow on the base o' that tremendous peak, which is five leagues high frae the water-line to the Deil's Cauldron on the tap, where the red brimstone bunis day and night. Ay, Jamie Gair, ye think muckle o' the craigs o' Dunnotter ; but I wish ye «aw Adam's Peak, in the Fortunate Isles ! " The fresh water was delightful as milk, and the grapes that hung owre the pumice-stane rocks were sweeter than heather Koney ; and sae, despite Sfr Andrew's orders, twa or three o' us, including Sandie Mathieson, a Leith man, strayed a mile or mair into the island, flinging our braid bonnets ailer the gouden birdii 71 THE YELLOW FBI GATE. eatinff gtipes and wild honey in some places, tumbling kuee* deep m Boit sulphur and spongy pumice-stane, until we found the entrance o' a cave, for a' the warld like ane o* the weems in the Fife, and, sailor-like, we scrambled in to see what was there, and my faith, messmates, we saw a sicht to mind o* I " In that cave were mair than twa hundred deid corpses, a rankit up in rows against the walls ; for it was a buiial place for the Guanchos, who, instead of putting their deid like Christians into a grave, bathe and parboil them in butter and wild lavender, black gum and wild sage — for sae Father Zuill told me ; and after drying them in the sunshine in summer, and the cauld breezes m winter, they sow them up in goatskins, and then the mummies are hard as a ship's figure-head, yea, and harder, for they will never decay ; and there they stood, twa hundred or mair, wi' their tanned visages and sichtless eyen, their hair and beards all brushed and plaited, and as if they yet lived j and oh, there was an awesome grin on their shrivelled maws 1 "It was a sight even for a sailor to scunner at, and we glowered at them for awhile, ilk ane o' us ashamed to be the first to put up his helm and be off. At last Gibbie o' Crail, an auld eea-horse, that feared nocht, and had mairowre a gude dram under his hatches, began to examine them, in the hope of finding some braw goud or trinket ; and solemnly Mathieson and I warned him to let the deid coi*pses alane ; but he laughed, and tumbled them owre like nine-pins. There was ane, a great stark and brawny corpse, wi' a lang scar across its nose, and twa precious stanes, like emeralds, glinting where its eyen should be. Gibbie said, wi' an oath, that he was sure it was the prince o' the Guan- chos, whom he had slain twenty years before, and wi' a dab o* his jocketeleg, picked out one of the emeralds. But lo I " At that moment the jaws opened, and there came frae theia a yell that shook the dust frae the cavern roof; that seemed to mak the corpses start, and made Gibbie spring ten feet awa ; and then we turned and fled, wi' every hair on our heids bristling; and without ever daring ance to look astern, we cam' plunging doon the side o' the peak, through the laurel bushes and owre the sulphur banks, till we reached the creek, where the yawl and the pinnace, wi' the last o' the water-casks, were about puttina otf, and mair deid than alive wi' terror, we sprang on boari We were just in time to reach the boats and get a rope's-ending tor disobeying orders ; for though Sir Andrew was but a skipper then, as I tauld ye, he kept a tight hand owre his crew." *' May I drink bilge if ever I — " began the gunner. " That evenmg a favourable breeze sprang up, and we bora away for hame : but as the Kloamin fell that breeze fresheaed THE BOATSWAIN'S TABN. 78 to a gale, the rain sowed the sea, and the red lightning flashed at the far horizon. Gibbie, Muthieson, and I were on the first nicht-watch ; we were restless, and fearfu' o* coming evil, and we nestled in onr storm doublets under the lee o' the foremast i f^nd though we would a' hae fain spoken o' that awesome adven- ture, we never once referred to it ; but sat listening to the dreary wind, as it whistled under the leech o' the foresail, or watching the waves that ran past us, like lang black ridges o' ink. A' at ftnce an unco blast took us a' aback ! Sii- Andrew jumped on deck in a moment, and ordered us to double-reef the mamsail and fore topsail ; and after this it became sae dark and eerie, that we couldna see a crossbow-shot ahead. " Amid the soughin' o' the wind and the hiss o' the waves we heard a strange cry rising from that terrible sea— a cry that made our blood curdle ! We rushed to the weather-bow, and after a time could discern a man's head, as he rose at times, bobbing like a fishei-raan's float upon the crests of the foaming ocean, or as he sank doon into its gloomy trough ; but again and again the eldritch cry went past us on the gusty wind. " ' A man overboai-d !' cried Sir Andrew through his trumpet; * and in sic a sea ! Forecastle there — see ye anything, lads ?' " I kenna what pos^sessed us, but none o' us made any answer. To back the foreyard or render any assistance were, we thought, impossible ; but Sir Andrew, wha does mony a thing other men irould never think o', on hearing the fii'st cry, knotted a line to a. Handspike, and getting a glimpse o' the man in the water as he was swept past our bows, flung it right at him like a harpoon, and we saw him catch it — yea, almost without an effort, as it seemed. Then the starboard watch, who^ had^ come on deck, towed him aboard, and he cam' up the ship's side by the main chains, like a cat or a squirrel, and stood diipping wet arnong us, a strong and sturdy child, wi' a brown skin, and^giisly and matted hair. Gibbie held up a ship's lantern to tak' a \'iew o* his face, and then I saw that he was almost bare bones, brawn, and skin, wi' a long scar across his nose, and but one eye, that glittered like green glass, while the other socket was empty, like a walnut-shell. We felt as if the deck would open under our feet, for we knew it was the dead Guancho ! ** I could feel puir Gibbie tremble as we slunk forward, leaving the skipper and crew to question the stranger, whose answers ■atisfied them, I suppose, but we couldna hear them for the Jashijag o' the sea and roaring o' the wind, as it soughed through the rigging. A can o' usquebaugh was oflered to the Guancho, but he shook his head ; and then clothes were offered him, but he preferred his ain, a pair o' goat-skin breeks with the hair on 74 THE TELLOW FEIOATE. the outsidb. The wind shifted — the squalls cam' oflener, and in a wee while Sir Andrew had stripped the Peggie to her staysail and trysail; we sounded the pumps, and had twa men at the tiller ; all hands were on deck, and though the crew muttered doubtfully and fearfully under their beards to ilk other anent the strange loon that had come on board in sic weather, there were none that shared the terror o' Sandie, Gibbie, and mysel', for in our hearts we kent that a deid corpse was sailing wi' us on that mirk midnight sea, and that the ship and a' its companie were doomed ! The wind was still roaring, and about three bells in the middle-watch the staysail gave way, and I heard Sir Andrew shout through his trumpet, — " * Yare, yare, my lads ! down wi* the staysail — ^bend on the sheet and right it again.' " We three rushed to obey the order, but the ship broached to, and before we could recover her again, and while that devilish Guancho uttered an eldi-itch yell, a sea took her right on the broadside, and burst over the decks, sweeping boats, booms, scuttlebutt, skylights, and four men overboard ; but the masts o* pine frae Falkland Woods stood brawly, and then we let her drive before the storm. We were certain the Peggie was a doomed ship now, unless we got rid o' the iiend that was aboard o' her; and we three consulted in what maimer it should be dune. As yet the nicht was dark as pitch tar ; no' a ray o' light was glimmering, and we saw the Guancho standing by the wea- ther fore-rigging, wi' his one eye shining at times like a green star. Gibbie, who was a ferocious auld buckie, proposed to gie him a cloure wi' a capstan-bar, or a dab wi' his durk, while we should chuck him overboard ; and wi' our hearts fu' o' fear and hatred, we resolved upon this, for we dreaded sairly lest our crew should be washed awa man by man, and we be left alane wi' the Guancho, and led to destruction. It was an unco wild night, and noo the lightning glinted between the scudding clouds Vid breaking sea wi' a green and ghastly glare. " Wi' muckle o' fear and mair o' desperation in our hearts, we 4i>ew near the Guancho, who stood by the gunnel grinnmg at the passing waves. None could see us, either forward or aft, for the crew were busy enough, and kept aloof frae the stranger. " * Heave, Gibbie, heave, and wi' a will !' cried I, as I grasped him by the breeks. Gibbie took his heels, and we shot him richt owre into the deep black trough o' the hungry sea ; and then on swept the ship, like a shot frae a culverin, and as if re- lieved o' half her c-argo. " ' Mony hands mak licht wark,' said Sandie. " * But the Lord forgie us if we hae dune wrang,' quo' I, t>akin|f vff my bonnet at His name. THE boatswain's TARN. ft ** • Wraiig!' growled Gibbie; * wraiig Lo di'own a deicl maL ! 1 ©mild swear that his ankles were but dry banes as I hove him owre the bulwark.' " The Peggie laboured hard and creaked in a' her timbers, the wind howled, and now a wave like Ailsa Craig came roaring after her. " * Beware, my lads, beware fore and all !' cried Sir Andrew through his trumpet. The three of us grasped the starboard rattlins, and at that moment another heavy sea poured like a torrent owre the decks o' the Peggie. Our mate, Mathieson's brother, and another seaman were swept away ; for a time, the Fhip trembled and was settling down. By my life, had one more wave like that rolled on her, she had gane doon into the trough and never risen mair ; but the water ran off her ; she swam like a duck, and again shot on, though the foresail was splitting to ribbons. " ' St. Clement be near us !' whispered Gibbie. ' Look, Archy —look Sandy !' and there, just where we had pitched him ower- board, was the Guancho, standing by the starboard gunnel, grinning and laughing as before. Naebody on deck had missed him, and nane but oursels kent that the same sea which had swept awa our mate, had washed the stonn-fiend on board again. " Towards morning the gale subsided, and the gi'ey daylicht jam in through a mirk and louring sky, to brighten a rowing sea. We were cheerless and sad. The men muttered among themsels, and were aye in pairs, keepmg aloof frae their unco shipmate ; and even Sir Andi-ew liked him but little, and pro- raised that he should be set upon the first land we came to. For five days we di'ifted about, and wist not where we were ; for, as the sun was hidden, our captain couldna win an observation wi' the cross-staff". He asserted that we were blo"wn right out into the Atlantic, where never ship sailed before ; but Gibbie, wha kent these seas o' auld, averred that we would sune mak the «oast o* Mogadore, which belonged to the king o' the Moors. Yet our brave captain proved to be right. " For these five days and nights, the Guancho did nocht else bat mope about the deck, and grin whenever Gibbie cam near him ; but our men worked hai'd to repair the damage o* the gale. We bent on four new sails, reeved some o' the rigging anew, shipped a new foretopmast, and. after taking an observation, bore away for Madeira. " Gibbie aye gied the Guancho a wide berth on deck, and kept as much aloft as possible. For three hail d;iys he sat perched in the craw's-nest; and three time.s I took the tiller for him at oight, as he was ever id mortal terror when the awesome thing 76 THE YELLOW FBIGATB. cam nigh him. We crowded every stitch o' canvas, carrdng mair o' nights than the skipper kent o' j and twice nearly ran the Peggie under water, in our eagerness to reach the land. A this time the Guancho ate litte or nocht, but a grain or sae o maize ; and raony o' our men, wha, owerconie wi' weariness, had slept on their watch, had frightt'u' di-eams, and averred that the Guancho pressed their throats in the night and sucked their blood ; for they fand bite-marks about <^heir necks in the morn- ing; — but then the Peggie was swarming wi' Norway rottens. The teiTor increased; men spoke iii whispers; and day by day, this Awsome Guancho sat in the lee scuppers, motionless as 11' deid, and only moved and girned when Gibbie drew near or passed it, which he aye did sidelong, wi' his hand on his durk ; and three times the thing pointed to his eyeless socket, from whilk Gibbie had howked the shining stane. " On the filth night o' this horrid voyage, Mathieson and I had the tbretop. We were on the look-out for land. The PeggU was going free, about eight knots or sae ; and having now to take his helm, Gibbie stood by the binnacle, and, Gude kens, we watched the deck mair than the horizon for four houi's o* that dreary night. The Guancho sat, as usual, in the lee scuppers, and a wet berth it was. About the middle- watch, we saw him rise and creep towards Gibbie, whose een were fixed on the sails —for he was a gude steersman, and aj-e loed to keep them full. I think I see him noo, as he stood v/i' his siller hair and red fac€ glinting in the light o* the binnacle lamps ; his feet planted firm on the deck, and his hands gripping the lion's head that was carved on the tiller-end ; and he sawna the fiend that drew nigh him! " • Deck ho !' I shouted. * Gibbie, man — mind yoursel !' but the wind swept my cry to leeward ; and a' at ance the Guancho sprang upon the puir helmsman — there was a despairing cry, an eldritch yell, and the demon dashed him against the larboard stanchions, a breathless and a brainless corpse. " Wi' the wild cry that rose frae the deck, a' was owre I " Unhanded, the tiller swayed frae side to side ; the vessel fell awa round like lightning ; her canvas was a' taen aback, and her topmasts went cra&h to leeward by the caps. We were & wreck m a moment. ** In a trice Sii* Andrew was on deck. Sandy and I cam doon the backstay by the run, and * out hatchets' was the word, to dear us of the wreck ; and under the foresail, mainsail, and gib, we entered the roads of Funchal, and anchored off the Castle of Bt. James, to refit procure fresh water, Madeira, hock, and pro- vuiona." THE B0AT8WAIN 8 YARN 77 But whato* this deevil wi' the green ee P" asked Willie Wad, impatiently. " An^'er got the bettor o' our fear. We sprang upon him the moment the ship was safe ; a desperate tulzle began, for every blow 0* his bony hands was like a cloure frae a smith's hammer, and he knocked onr best men owre like ninepins ; his eldritch yells were like the vrhistling wind, and he laughed and kicked, when at last we laid him sprawling on the deck, and, while our hearts boiled wi* fear and iuiy, lashed him hard and fast by neck and heels to ringbolts. Some proposed to heave him overboard, ffi a shot at his eraig, but Sir Andrew wouldna hear o' that; ^nd as soon as we dropped anchor at Fmichal, the Guancho was handed owre to the Dominicans and the Commander of the Order of Christ, who put him in a vault o* the Castle of St. James, to thole a trial for sorcer}^ and murder. Our story filled a' Funchal wi' terror and consternation. A lang procession o' Dominican Fathers, carrying relics, crosses, banners, and holy-water pots, marched to the Castle o' St. James, to exorcise the demon ; and the holy-water, when it fell frae the asperges on his brown hide, hissed as if it sputtoTed on iron in a white heat, and he gimed at the priests like a marmoset. At last, finding that exorcism and blessed water v are used alike in vain, the Portuguese Domini- cans Old the Kni^^iits of Christ betuik themsels to prayer, and aftei solemn high uiass Id the great church, visited the Guancho again. •' They found him free o* his fetters, and laughing like a wild imp, while he gied the finishing strokes to a great galley or boat, which he had chalked, wi' its sails set, and twenty rowers at their paddles, on his dungeon wall. They mai-velled sairl}^ at this strange employment, for one wha's funeral fire stood burning in the castle yard j but a glamour was owre them, and nane dared approach him. " Then the brown deevil drew the waves below the galley sae Hielike, that t/iei/ seemed to roll and it to heave, while therowerf oegan to paddle, and a low wild chant was heard, as they a paddled and kept time. Then he drew a ladder, wi' two perpen- iicular strokes and sax horizontal ones ; and then he stepped on hoard, wi* anither o' his eldi-itch yells. The rowers began to paddle harder than ever, and while their sang died awa, it sailed clean off the wall wi' hmi, and left ne'er a trace behind.* " A Knight of Christ sprang forward, but the place was empty, clear o' its evil tenant, and no a vestige o' the faiiy-ship remained upon the dungeon wall. Noo, what think ye o' that stor^ metismates P" 78 THE YELLOW FBIOATS. " By my faith, I would rather drink bilge a* my daya than nee sail the sea. wi' a deevil in the ship's companie," said Willie Wad. " Puir Gibbie o' Crail ended his life as I told ye, and sleeps in iis hammock among the mermaids," said the boatswain, rising from the gun-carriage ; " but Sandy, our messmate, hath left me a lang way astern, for he is now Sir Alexander Mathieson, Knight t'^the King of the Sea, and captain o' yonder gallant caravel, while I am only auld Archy the boatswain. And, see, yonder hia barge is shoved off frae the Craig o' St. Nicholas, and pulled straight for the Queen Margaret." " Which shows that the king's council maun e'en be owre, and 'tis time I were awa to the Admiral," said Jamie Gair, as through an open gun-port, the gilded boat referred to, was seen to leave the rock of St. Nicholas, with a banner waving at its stern, where three or four gentlemen, wearing rich dresses, were seated ; and, with sixteen bright-bladed oars f\ashing in the meri- dian sun, it was pulled across the shining river directly towards the consort of the Yellow Frigate. CHAPTER XI. CHAINING THE UNICOBN. ■ Quaint old town of toil and traflBck, quaint old town of art and song, Mem'ries haunt thy painted gables, like the rooks that round them throng ; Mem'ries of the middle ages, when thy sovereigns rough and bold, Had their dwelling in thy castle, time-defying, centuries old." LONOJEIiLOW. While the boatswain was spinning his incredible yarn in the forecastle of the frigate, the king, after being at mass in the chapel of St. Salvador, which stood near the palace of St. Margaret, on a rocky eminence to the north side of the High- street and Overgaitt, proceeded to the hall of this ancient resi- dence, where the great officers of state were to assemble, and where he was to receive the ambassadors of Louis XI. This old apartment was of great height, and was lighted by »ix round-headed windows ; its roof was an arch of solid stone, spanned also by six sculptured ribs, that sprang from capitals , the floor was of oak, whl.'-h had been split into planks by wedges, in the old Scottish fashion, roiighly dressed by the axe, and secured by large-headed iron nails. The hall bore the impress of ♦he architectural p^riiu^ '^f the early part of the Middle Ages CHAINING THE UNICuRN. 79 ihe mouldings, the corbels, the flowered bosses, the ribs and muUions of the windows, were bold and massive, and the subdued light of a calm bright morning stole softly through their painted lozenges and crimson draperies. Old tapestries of green and amber colour, representing in quaint and mis-shapen figures the virtues and miracles of St. Margaret, the valoui- and death of her husband, clothed the walls of this sombre hall. The fair fingera of six Scottish princesses, viz., Margaret the Dauphiness of France, Elizabeth of Brittany, Jane of Huntly, Elinor of Austria, Mary of Campvere, and the Lady Annabella, all daughters of James I., had woven, in Dunfermline Tower, the stern romances which hung on tenter-hooks of steel around those ancient walls At the lower end was a butiet, on which stood a gigantic thistle, with its stamens composed of English swordblades, and its bristles of poniards, all gathered from the victorious field of Sark ; at the upper, was the large fireplace, surmounted by the royal arms, and from each of the antique crowns by which the supporters — the white unicorns — were gorged, there depended a gilded chain. This new and most remarkable addition to the imperial arms of the kingdom was soon remarked by several of the nobles, who muttered together, as they gathered in groups, awaiting the entrance of the king. " It is significant of the chain he would bind around us," said tl;e Earl of Angus, with one of his dark and bitter smiles, as he thrust his furred cap of maintenance over his dark and shaggy brows. " But 'tis a chain the sword can easily sever," added Sir James Shaw. This trifling affair shed a gloom over all the courtiers, who were rapidly assembling, all clad in rich and magnificent dresses. Accompanied by Sir David Falconer, Captain Barton, and Sir Alexander Mathieson, a wiiy old seaman, the admiral arrived, and many of the proudest peers felt themselves constrained to greet the brave old man with courtesy and outward respect. " My Lord of Angus," said Robert Bai'ton, frankly, kissing the hand of Scotland's greatest noble, " God bless thee for avenging my poor father on the Howards and their Northupxbrian kerne. From my soul I thank thee !" " Thank me not, good Kobert Barton," replied the earl, with •oldness ; " for though but a trader, thy father was a true Scot, and a brave one," At this reply Barton's eyes flashed, and Sir Andrew Woc Michael the Archangel. His blue bonnet was borne by a pretty little page, — a royal protSge,-^ who was the son, not of a noble, but of some poor mendicant, who had attracted his notice, one day, when passing the Bridge of Dunblane. His hose reached to his feet, — for stockings, apart from hose, were then unknown. The first pair ever seen in Britain were worn by Henry VIII. of England, who obtained them from Spain, and his little successor, Edward VI., wai •(^emnly presented with a pair by Sir Thomas Gresham. Angus, Jjord Home, Lord Hailea, Sir James Shaw S't Patrick CHAINING THE UNICORN. 81 Gray, the Laird of Keir, and others of that fierce nohlesse, who never laid aside their iron coats, and who despised the almost effeminate dresses, the laces, niflles, and ribbons olthe courtiers, stood in whispering and observant groups. Apart from these and such as these, who were too olten the curse and betrayers of their country, were grouped a lew of those learned men whom, like a true Stuart, the king loved and cherished. Among them were three Benedictine priests, viz., John Aber* crombie, a vigorous writer against the dawning heresies in the Church; Alexander Barclay, the translator of Sallust; and Robert tTenrison, author of the BluiJy Serk and Ye Burrows- toun Mouse and ye Landicart Mouse; Father Zuill, the learned chaplain to Sir Andrew Wood; John Bellenden, then the greatest poet in Scotland, and afterwards Archdeaton of Moray ; the learned Andrew Forraan, the Proto-notary Apostolic of the kingdom, in aller years the most famous of our church* men, and the mediator between Pope Julius II. and Louis XII., David Steele, who wrote the T/irie JPriestis of JPehlis, and many other poor poets, who subsisted on the good king's privy purse, and wrote odes, ballads, and songs for a small yearly fee and the gift of a camlet gown, a bonnet and shoes, at St. Martin's-Mass and White Sunday. In the bearded visages of all these sable-gowned and black-capped literati, there were plainly visible a peculiar mixture of self-conceit and pedantic pride, tempered by an unpleasant timidity; for some of the smaller satirists, like Steele, were eminently obnoxious to the nobles ; yet it was to this group that the impolitic king first addressed himself. " Come hither, Father Barclay," said he to the gifted translator of Sallust; "I have just read thy noble satire. The Ship of Fools, and owe thee a chain of gold for it. I prefer it to thy Sistory of the Ju(jurthine War ; but we must imprint both, if »ve can get those newly invented iron letters from Germany. By my honour, Barclay, a scholar such as tliou — or one like thee, Abercronibie, or any of ye — might well become the mentor of a king ! I may mistake," he added, turning to his gloomy- eyed peers, " but I assure you, my lords, that nobility of mind is more acceptable to me than nobility of name." With a grotesque mixture of fear and pleasure, Barclay kissed the hand of the king. Angus glanced scornfully at his friends, And Kyneff whispered, " Thou seest, my Lord Earl, how this doting king hath not iren policy enough to gild the chain by which he would fett#!T the unicorn." Wood now anproached and x>res4ixited ^ James his three F 82 "rnr: yellow frigate. favourite officers — old Sir Alexander Mathieson, Sir David Fal- coner, and Robert Barton. " God's benison on tliee, my old king of the sea," said James^ clasping the hard rough hand of the venerable captain of the Margaret; " and on thee, too, Barton. To thee I leave the duty of avenging thy slaughtered father. His estate of Barnton shall be created into a free barony, and his services shall never be forgotten. But come thou hither, Davie Falconer," added James, who, to mortify his nobles, never omitted an opportunity of distinguishing one of the people. " I owe thee something for that brave fight with the Spanish caravel in the English waters, but I know not what it may be — unless this trinket, for the time ;" and taking from his finger a ring, he presented it to the arquebussier, whose heart swelled within him with sudden gra- titude and joy ; and then his eyes sought those of Sybilla Drum- mond. His heart leaped anew, for it was full of all that a strong And beautiful passion can kindle in a profound and sensitive nature. " Sir David," continued the king, "thy father died on the deck of his ship for mine; and to feel that I have such subjects as thee and Barton, is to feel the true pleasure of being a king . Go — from my soul I love all such brave and honest fellows !" " 'Twas I who first made men of them both," said Sir Andrew Wood, " and who gave them a relish for gunpowder and salt water. Gadzooks ! confess, Robert Barton, when first thou earnest aboard thou couldst neither hand, reef, nor steer, clamber aloft, grease a mast, handle car, culverin, or caliver. All these I taught him, your majesty, and made a man and a sailor of him!" " This day makes poor David Falconer the envy and the hatred of the nobles," said Barclay the translator to Father Zuill. " 'Tis false, su-rah," growled the laird of Sauchie, who over- heard the remark, which was made a little too audibly ; " he is a brave fellow, who has won his spurs as he wins his daily bread by knight's service and the sword. Were he a cutter of stones, like the umquhile Cochrane, a fiddler, like William Rogers, or a useless scribbler, like thee, I would care little to see him gang the gate those loons were sent at Lauder," " Alas, noble sir," urged the Benedictine, submissively, "Coch- rane was a most unfortunate man " " He was a villain," said the Earl of Angus; "a dyvour who had turned heretic in his heart, and carried a Bible at his belt by a sUver chain — a Bible printed in black letters by a German oorcerer, even such as the king would employ to print thy written book. Enough, sir I" CHAINING THE UNICOEN. S| After this, the priest had nothing more to urge. " Father Zuill," said the king to the cliaplain of tlie Yelloie Fngaie, " I am ghid to see thee, and liave received thy learned treatise on the burning glasses of the ancients, which 1 hope to peruse with pleasure ; though I doubt mickle if you will ever supersede our cannon-balls. I have desired his grace of Mont- rose to present you with a copy of Virgil, by Caxton thu Englishman." Confronting the lofty and arrogant eyes of the nobility Falconer, who was armed like themselves, but less richly, retired towards the curtained dooi-way, where his arquebussiers were stationed, with the IMontrose Herald and Garioch Pursuivant. " This protege of AVood," said Sir Patrick Gray, " is a cox- comb, whose profound admiration of his own person — " '\ Is only surpassed by his profound loyalty and respect for hia aative monarch," said Lady Euphemia Drummond, bluntly in- cerrupting him, as she and her sisters drew near their father. Sybilla, who blushed with anger at Gray, gave her tall, pale eldest sister, a glance full of gratitude; but the governor of Broughty, whom the words native monarch had stung deeply, bit his white lips with sudden anger, and relapsed into silence. " How the devil doth it come to pass," said the imperious Lord Drummond, "that this churl, Falconer, who hath neither landa nor rents coming in, wears a scarlet mantle like a landed baron?" " 'Tis the growing insolence of the class he springs from," re- I)lied Sir James Shaw, haughtily, drawing his own rich mantle over his breast. Poor Sybil la put down her fine face with timid sorrow, on hearing her lover spoken of thus. " Well, my Lord Angus," said Drummond, as they all di-ew a little apart into one of the deep windows ; " by your presence here this moniing, am I to conclude you have become a faithful coimsellor of the kingp" " As you have, my lord," replied the dark Angus, with a courtly but crafty smile ; for each was quite equal to and under- stood by the other. "Your followers have valued lightly the new edict anent wearing swords in the king's vicinity !" " As Scottish men should ever value such infamous edicts," replied Bell-the-cat, with a daik frown ; " I have five hundred lances from the Howe stabled in the close of St. Salvador, and should like to see any one enforce the edict on them." " Angus," said Drummond, with a deep glance, " where will all this loyalty aiid this disluyalty, ihjs open flattery and secret dia- ^)Dtent, end*'" 84 THE 1ELL0W FRIGATE. " On the fielcl of battle" was the hoarse reply, whispered throu|^h a thick and wiry beard; and the timid Margaret Driimmond trembled as she heard it, and drooped her soft, dark eyes, on finding the keen glance of Kynoff' fixed as it was from time to time upon her with ming-led curiosity and pity, — if in such a heart as his there might be pity. Amid all this court intrigue and sea of plotting, but aloof from it, stood the Duke of Rothesay, conv^ersing with his friend and follower, the princely heir of Crawford. He saw cnly Margaret, whom he loved with all the heedless ardour of a boy, and was quite oblivious of the many fair ones, possessing no ordinary amount of charms, who were clustered around the Duchess of Mimtrose ; and there were not a few who whispered into each other's pretty ears many a compliment on Rothesay's handsome figure and face. On this morning he was dressed almost entirely in white satin, slashed with blue and edged with gold. Margaret Drummond was attired in the same colours, which so well became her fair complexion and blonde hair. In the presence of the king, though he seldom addressed her, she always felt a dread, as of one against whom she had committed a wrong in becoming the wife of his son. She was ever apprehensive that his calm, inquiring eye might read her secret. She was pale as marble ; and from time to time applied to her little pink nostrils a gold pomander ball, which was filled with scented paste, and such as were then used before the introduction of pouncet boxes. This had been one of Rothesay's earliest love-gifts to her. Kyneft' and Sauchie had been closely watching Rothesay and their beautiful victim, but found themselves completely at fault and unable to discover any glances, signs, or tokens of intelligence passing between them ; and Kyneff, who, although he could be politic and wary at times, was generally coarse, reckless, and bold, resolved to probe the matter at once, and dared to do so in the following manner :— " I have a boon to beg of your highness this morning," said he, in his easiest and most familiar tone. " A boon — thou ?" asked the prince, with tho coldness of in- stinctive distrust. « Well, Sir Patrick ?" " I have taken the liberty of addressing your hignnsss on the dearest secret of my heart," said he in a low voice, and twirling his mustachios, while he drew the prince aside, and with hia stealthy eyes bestowed a covert glance on Sir James Shaw ; " I crave your influence with one of your most favoured coui'tiers— « for— for— " " For what — do not be bashful, Sir Patrick — his purse ?" ,' Nay, his duughtld he oos^Chsea waw '^i hiJ EMBASSY OP THE SIEUft DE MONIPENIf IB. 8fl iipurs and doublet. A flourish of tnnnpets in tlie court-yard, «nd a glittering of pike-heads and heralds' tabards between the festooned curtains which shaded the lower end of the hall, announced the arrival of the new French ambassador and his train, and then all became hushed, save some such scraps of con- versation as the following : — " Sybilla Drummond," said the Duchess of Montrose, " re- inember ye aught of the splendour in which the Lord Stuart d'Aubigne, Mareschal of France, came here in 1483 r" *' As ambassador of Charles VIII ?" " To renew the ancient league." " Ah yes, madam ; how could I forget it P My dear brother, who was killed at Naples by Gonsalvo de Cordova, was captain in one of the eighteen Scottish companies whom he took away with him to the Italian wars." " My puir nephew — he was indeed a brave gallfwnt !" said the old duchess, with a sigh. "Yet, madam," resumed Sybilla, glancing through the painted window near her, " I think the train of this Lord of Concressault every way inferior to those of the Mareschal d'Aubigne and of the papal ambassador, who came soon after from His Holiness Innocent VIII." " In the following year — the Lord Bishop of Imola ; I re- member me, child." " He succeeded in procuring a three years' trace between King James and Richard of England," said Barton, " who sent his despatches sew^n in the stomacher of Muriella Crawford." " Ah, that woman became a Lindesay by marrying into our amily," said the haughty old duchess, applying her pomander iall to her nose. # • « • * " J.Iy Lord Drummond," said the swarthy Earl of Angus, glancing grimly at the king, w^ho was sitting with his forehead resting on his hand, and buried in thought, while the Chancellor, Treasurer, Secretary of State, and other richly dressed courtiera, hovered near him ; " it would seem as if we peers of Scotland hao jecome mere grooms and pages in the eyes of tliis king's new fimps and puppets." " By the fiend, yes! Only conceive again what we har ink neard — Hailes, Home, the Steward of Menteith, and the FGi;titer fii Drum, being thus arraigned at the instance of a few wretched burgessee !" " Yea, and before some of those we spared at Lauder Brig- men who are yet unhanged," addt;d Angus, with one of hit bukcBt sccwb. 90 THE YELLOW FBIQATS. " There now, not a yard from the king's chair, u a balladeer, the son of a sword-slipper in the Shoegaitt of Perth, who hath exchanged the file and hammer for a sword and Parmese poniard — his canvas gaberdine for a dainty doublet of cramosie, because, forsooth, he is master of the king's music, and Margaret of Denmark loves to listen to the twangle of his viols and ghitterns — faugh !" " Men say he will be made a knight and privy councillor." " If so," said Sauchie, " by God I shall forswear my spurs for ever !" ** I knew such another clown who was made an earl," said the Steward of Menteith, who had given his tent-cord to hang Cochrane over Lauder Bridge. " There are Falconer and Barton, too, whose fathers were but merchant-skippers !" ^ " But the former is a brave gallant, and the latter is mj par- ticular friend," said Drummond. " Well, well," resumed the discontented Angus, impatiently; "but think of him whom I saved at Lauder, when ^oz^;* tent-cord was twisted round his neck — John Ramsay — a mere bonnet laird, who is now, forsooth. Sir John Ramsay, and Lord of Bothwell, Baron of Balmain, Flaskie, and Pitnamore, with the Captainrie of the king's guard. Yet, by St. Bryde, this springald dared but yesterday to pass me in the Baxter's Wynd at Stirling —me, Archibald of Angus — with head erect, and without beck, bow, nod, or recognition !" "The brose these loons shall sup is thickening fast, lord earl," said Drummond, with a dark smile, as he spread his silvered beard over his steel gorget, " and ere long our lances will be at their throats." At that moment the Montrose herald, an officer of the Lyon court, who had been recently created in honour of the Crawford dukedom, exclaimed, " Place for the ambassador of his Majesty, the Kmg of France !" " Sweetheart !" whispered Rothesaj^ pressing his Margaret's trembling hand, as all eyes Avere turned towards the entrance, " this is, indeed, a critical day for us ! Should my father depart on his long-proposed pilgrimage, I shall be regent, and he must grant us pardon ere he go. If he stays, we shall then be con- demned to linger on in secrecy, but only a little longer." " Until the good Bishop of Dunblane returns," said Margaret, with one of her dearest smiles. During the reign of James III. there were an unusual number of solemn treaties and splendid embassies passed between the court of Scotland and those of Louis XL and Charles VIII. of BMBASSY OP THE SIEUE DL MONIPENKIB. 91 France; Alphonso-c4/Hra»M*of Portu^'al, Ferdinand V. of Spain, Christian of Denmark, and Charles the warrior^ Count of Flanders, by means of nobles, prelates, and heralds. Some of these were exceedingh' maginficent, for u.ider the care of kings who were far in advance of their times, Scotland was rapidly rising in the scale of European nations. But on the present occasion the special envoy of Charles YIII. was attended (jnly by two esqmres and two pages, who bore his helmet and braque- mart, or short French sword. The Sieur de ]\Ionipennie, Lord of Concressault, was a Scots- man, a cadet of the family of Pitmilly, long naturalized by resi- dence in France, in the armies of which he had served ior thirty years. He commanded four thousand archers in the war between the Charolois and the Lords of the League, and at the battle of Montleri had slain, with his own hand, Pierre de Breze, the grand seneschal of Kormandy. At the left clasp of his cuirass dangled the gold cross of eight points, worn by the chevaliers ot the Order of St. Etienne, and the Cross of the Imn*iculate Con- ception. In aspect he was venerable and soldierlike. His armour was black, edged, studded, and engraved with gold ; his boots had those long toes or poleines, of which we may road in the chronicles of Monstrelet ; his beard was white as sr.ow, but his dark grey eyes were bright and keen ; his features were severe and somewhat harsh, but a smile of pleasure and loyalty over- spread them as he approached his native monarch, and, full of honest enthusiasm, knelt down to kl^^s the hand of James, who immediately raided him from the dais. " The last time I had the happiness of seeing your majesty," paid he, in a voice that was strongly tinged by a foreign accent, *' was about thirty years ago, and ye were then but a halfling laddie." " At the funeral of my mother, of royal memor}-, in the col* legiate kirk of Edinburgh," said the king. " I mind it weel, as if 'twere yesterday. Woe is me ! but the cares of manhood have been written deeply on your majesty's brow sincesyne ; yet ye do rem.ind me of the king, your father, when I saw him last in '58 at the Castle of Stirling. He was ever a good friend to me and to my house." The eyes of the veteran suffused with emotion as the recoiieo- tion of years long passed came gushing back upon his warm and generous heart. " I rejoice, indeed, to sec you, my Lord of Concressault, and am all impatience to hear the message of my cousin of France." "It is simply concerning the proposition formoily made anent the invasion of Brittanv. He has been pleased to desire 92 THE YELLOW FEIGATE. me to urge yoor majesty to invade and take possession of that dukedom, promising, at tiie same time, to make over to the crown of Scotland all right and interest France may have in its five bislioprics of Rennes, Nantes, Saint Malo, Dol> and Saint Brieuc. He would advise your majesty, as more fully set forth in these papers which I shall have the honour of laying before your council, to promise to the Bretons that their states-general and all their ancient privileges shall be retained as inviolate, subject, however, to the moditications of the Scottish Parliament." " What say you to this, my lords ? " asked the king, as a murmur of varying opinions rose among the nobles. " I say nay," replied Angus ; " the poor Bretons have never wronged us, and by St. Bryde ! wliy should we invade and dis- possess their duke, to please a King of France or to avenge his petty piques and jealousies? " " The King of France requires no man to avenge his quarrels, Eai'l of Angus," retorted the Scoto-French Lord of Conci-essault, turning abruptly round. " Drummond," said the king, " what sayst thou?" " I agree with Angus," replied Lord Drummond. '* Why should we imitate England of old, by waging wanton wars, and violating the rights of a free people?" " There are some line harbours off the Breton coast," said Sir Andrew Wood; " gadzooks, Robbie Barton, we know Nantes well, with its castle at the mouth of the Sevre." " King Charles desired me to say," continued Sieur de Moni- pennie, without heeding the nc.bles, " that tw^enty thoustsnd men will be sufficient to reduce the Bretons, with such French forces as he would send against them by the way of Maine and Anjou, together with all the Scottish troops now in the service of France — to wit. Sir Robert Patulloch's gard du corps Ecossaises ; my thousand lances of Concressault, and those of John of Darnley, the mareschal Stuart d'Aubigne, who has just been created Comte d'Evereaux; and those Avould. enter by the way of Poitou, as these letters will show." Whatever James thought of this splendid offer from the wily /ninisters of his cousin Cliarles the Affable, who was then in his eighteenth year, he had not time given him to say. In 147], the proposition had been made before, and he had then intended to annex Brittany, at the head of 6000 Scottish infantry ; but the Parliament opposed it; and now nearly with one unanimous voice, the nobles s.i'A, and perha})s with some feeling of justice— "Not a man of us will drawa sword or lift a lance in this cause!" " The Bretons have never wronged us," added Lord Drum- mond; " and woe be t<) those who wa^je au uiijust warl" 1MBAS9T OF THE 8IEUE DE MOyiPENNlB. 93 •* You forget, my lords, that the barons and burgesses are vet ti) be consulted," replied the king, with rising anger; " and if iheir voi«'e is for the annexation of Brittany to onr realm, by the niack Ivood of Scotland, I will march without my recreau* nobles, or crf-'^ new ones on the field!" The peers cr heanng this rash speech smiled at each othe* contemptuously and incredvilously, while the Lord of Concres sault gazed at them in astonishment ; for though he knew well the stubborn pride of his native chiefs, he had but recently conii from France, where he had seen the iron rule of Louis XL, his fortresses of Loches and Montilz-les-Tours, with their trap-doors and gibbets, for the proud and refractory ; his atrocious bastille, with its vaulted hall, and those cubes of masonry and iron which stood therein, and were called the king's little daughters, and in the heart ol which, some men were pining and had pined for twenty years, hke frogs in a marble block ! He had seen all France tremble at the nod of the decrepit little tyrant who espoused Margaret of Scotland — and now he gazed with ill-concealed wonder at the eftrontery of these Scottish nobles. ^ And Jame;^ though his generous nature was ever averse to injustice am oppression, merely to oppose, and if possible to mortify them seemed not indisposed to undertake the conquest and annexation of this then independent dukedom, which was not united to France until L532, " Immediately after the meeting of Parliament, before whon» your papers shall be laid, I will send to France my final answer," replied the king ; " and now, my Lord of Concressault, you can favour me in a very particular manner. You are, of course, aware, that since 1477, now eleven years ago, I have been bound by a solemn vow to visit the shrine of St. John, in the great Cathedral of Amiens." The ambassador bowed ; Eothesay pressed the hand of Mar- garet Drummond, who hung upon his arm, and stepped fc: ward % pace to listen. A deep stillness reigned in the crowded hall; even the nobles seemed to hold their breaths for a time. " On this pilgrimage I was to have gone, accompanied by a thousand gentlemen; but the arrival of a legate from his Holi- ness Sixtus IV., the siege of Dunbar, the revolt of my brother, the Duke of Albany, and those events which brought on the — ■ the fatal raid at Ljvuder, with many other events, have totally precluded the fulfilment of this most holy pledge ; I therefore entrust to you, my Lord of Concressault, this holy medal, the gill of our Father Innocent VIII.," continued James, taking from his neck a large and heavy gold medallion. " This 1 beseech you to present in my name to th^j shrine of St. John, s« 94 THE YELLOW FHTGATE. at present I sc>e no possibility of my leaving Scodand, erec fn the short period of three months." The Sieur de Monipennie knell to leceive the consecrated medal, which he kissed and suspended by its gold chain at his neck. It bore an image of the Virgin, and was encircled by the legend, — llail, Jilarp, Star of lltabcn, mti i^otf)er of (StoU ♦ This medal was afterwards conveyed to the Shrine of St. John at Amiens, and there it hung until the plunder of the churches during the French Revolution. _ Rothesay gazed on Margaret tenderly, and in silence, for the king's sudden and unexpected abandonment of his long-projected pilgrimage removed, for the present, all hope of a fortunate or happy revelation of their rash and secret union. Rothesay sillied with disappointment, and Margaret's timid eyes filled mih tears ; for had James actually departed on this pilgrimage, the rules of the Church would have compelled him to forgive all who had offended against him, or his journey would have been deemed a false and futile pretence. Distinguishing from axiong the nobles the stout and portly admiral, whom he knew by the silver whistle which hung at his neck, the venerable ambassador of Charles VIII. entered into an animated conversation with Sir Andrew Wood, which was a fresh souice of irritation to some of the jealous peers, who thereby felt themselves slighted. The hum of voices again pervaded the large and stately hall, and James, after exchanging a few words with the Duke of Montrose, reclined his brow upon his hand, and with his lace overshadowed by a bitterness which he could not conceal, at the affront so publicly given to him by the nobles, suddenly and abruptly arose to withdraw. Angus, who at times vas not ungenerous, perceived his deep emotion, and as the eK'knowledged leader of the peers, approached and said in a low voice, — " Your majesty may feel that we have wronged you ; but I deseech you to rest assured, that at heart your nobles love you." "And hate all else who have a claim on my friendship," replied James, bitterly, " or all who deserve my affection j is it not so, lord earl ?" " Yes, if bestowed upon the ignobl-^ and unworthy," replied the earl, haughtily, while his deep, dark, glassy eyes bestowed on his sovereign one of those daring, fixed, and penetratmg glances which even he at times found almost insupportable, " Yet would I hope, Angus, that with our great banquet in •■Jie Castle of Edinburgh — that friendU" least of which I have TO SEA. 96 spcken so oflen — all these fends and hittornesses will cease/* said James, as he bowed low to Conoressault, the ambassador, lower still to the ladies, and retired, leaning on the arm cf his mo»i faithful friend and eonnsellor, the Duke of Montrose. " Poor king !" said the admiral to Barton, as they also de- parted ; " between his peers and his people, he is like one betweev the devil and the deep sea." CHAPTER XIII. TO sea! •* All hands unmoor 1 proclaims a boisterous crjj All hands unmoor! the caverned rocks reply i Itou.«jed from repose, aloft the sailors swarm. And with their levers soon the windlass arm." Fajlconer's Shipwreck, Canto i. On leaving the hall, Sir Andrew Wood was received at the palace-gate by his usual body-guard; the crew of his barge, under the command of Cuddie, the coxswain, armed with their boat-stretchers, and clad in their spotless white gaberdines, girdled by broad black belts, in which each had his Scottish knife or dudgeon-dagger, and all wearing broad blue bonnets, having red cherries on the top and white St. Andrew's crosses in front. They were sixteen of the smartest men in the ship's company, and Cuddie — or Cuthbert — the coxswain, marched in front. As the admiral, thus escorted and accompanied by Fak-oner and Barton, proceeded towards the landing-place down Tindall's Wynd, a narrow thoroughfare, then paved hy those round stones such as may yet be seen in the streets of Arbroath and othei- seaport towns in Angus, he perceived a seaman making various efforts to attract his attention, by coming close to the barge's crew, and always touching his bonnet with profound respect whenever his eye fell on him " Ahoy, brother!" said the admiral, " what cheer P Do you tfish to speak with me ? Ha ! Jamie Gair — is it thee who art backing and filling thus, as if I were some great lord ? Put on "hy bonnet, man. But why art not away to the tishing-ground P Are there English cruisers off the coast ?" " Ye have guessed aright. Sir Anrlrew," replied Gair j " and I crpA'e the honour o' a word wi' ye apart." " Well,— say forth.' THE YELLOW FEIdATE. " Cdpiain Howard, tlie Hoyal Harry, and twa '*^lier English 8liips, wore off the Firlli last night." " What dost thou tell me?" " Sure as I am a living man, sir — inside the Incncape bell," fnnt^nued Jamie, in a low anxious wliisper. *■ Lubber and loggerhead ! And tliou only tellest me now !" •** Wi' the first blink o' dawn I was aboard the frigate, Sir Andrew, but ye werena there ; and I hae been haudin' off and >n about the palace door sincesyne, in the hope o' seeing you. But oh, be wary, Sir Andrew, and ask me nae raair, for I am but a puir fisherman, wi' a wife and. a bairn to feed and to deed ** " Wary — what mean j-'e, Jamie Gair ?" " Your word as a knight. Sir Andrew, that you will never repeat what will assuredly be my ruin." " Messmate, thou hast my word as a seaman. Well ?" " Last night three gentlemen, in masks, went off to the Royal Marry, and remained two hours aboard." " About what time was this ?" ** Mirk midnight " *' When honest men are swinging in their hammocks. Well F* " When day broke, she and her twa consorts were bearing awa south and by east." " Three gentlemen, wearing masks," — said the admiral, keenly scrutinizing the honest brown visage of the fisherman ; *' ken ye their names P" " No, Sir Andrew," replied Jamie looking down, for he ti'embled for his wife and child, if exposed to the vengeance of Gray of Kyneff*. " By every shrine in Largo kirk !" said the admiral, " I would give my starboard fin to know who these villains were. Ho ! Robert Barton, I have news for thee," he added, with a grim smile; " the English Marry and her consorts are off the coast." " Edmund Howard — ^he who with his brother slew my father in the Downs P" " The same, my lad ; and while we have been loitering in imooth water among those gilded sharks of courtiers, they may have escaped us." " Edmund Howard — oh, David Falconer, hearest thou that ?** gaid Barton, with fierce joy ; " come admkal : if he escapes us now " " May we never go to sea without a foul wind, or come to anchor without a rotten cable. Away to your ai'ms — ^to ycui eannon — the English fleet is off the coast !" " Bear away then, Cuddie — heave aii«^ mjp' lads ! hutrah V* TO ?ea! ©y crietl Rarton, waving his bonnet, and the whole of the barge's trow ran down Tindall's Wynd brandisliing their boat-stretclier8, ti\d springing on board, shijiped Ihuir oars. Wood and Falconer leaped into the sternshects, and Barton grasped tlie tiller. " Give way, my braw lads, give way !" exclaimed the admiral, as Cuddie shoved the boat oft'; the sixteen oars were dipped into the water; the crew bent to their task, and almost lilted the light shallop out of the river, as they shot her round the Craig of St. Nicholas, where the nautical loungers bestowed a farewell cheer in honour of old Sir Andrew. Jamie Gair was left in the middle of the Wynd, where he stood for a time, iiTesolute and half repenting the interest he had taken in affairs of State, and di-eading that the gold he had earned might bring him nought but sorrow, " Give way, callants — give way !" continued the brave old Laird of Largo ; " see — the tide is ebbing, and there is a fine breeze blowing down the Cai'se o' Gowrie ! Give way merrily, my hearts — pull with a will !" The old man was all impatience; the crew of the barge caught his enthusiasm. They bent to their slender oars with all their muscular energ}-, and the ligh^. boat was shot over the waters of the Tay, which parted before its bows, and curled under its counter, it the bright sunshine, in long lines that were edged with bells of s.nowy foam. Like an arrow, the long sharp boat sheered along- side the towering frigate ; the oars were unshipped from the rowlocks and piled along the thwarts, w^hile Cuddie the coxswain caught an eyebolt with his boat-hook. In three minutes, the admii-al, his officers, and the crew were all on board, and the boat was dangling like a to}' from the davit.-?. " Eun up the signal for sea," said the admiral ; " ^Master Wad, \re a culverin to let Sir Alexander Mathieson know what we are about. Boatsvrain, pipe away the yeomen of the windlass, and heave short — cast loose the courses j trip the anchor, and prepare ail for saihng." The greatest alacrity followed these rapid orders. Archy of Anster was as active as if the one-eyed demon of his extra- ordinary yarn was after him : he hurried from poop to forecai«tle, growling, shouting, swearing and piping away between decks. " Willie _ Wad— quick wi' j'our gun!" he cried; "or we'll gerve ye wi' a stoup o' bilge in guid earnest." ^ The little blue flag, which, from time immemorial has been tha signal for sailing, was run up to the foremast-head, where it fluttered in the wind ; one of the starboard ports was triced up, and a great cannon-royalc sent its report like thunder over the •aim still flow of the shiuin^j river : and inimediat^ly a com* 98 THE YELLOW FRIGATE. motion was visible on board the Queen Margaret. The flag of Sir Alexander Mathieson was displayed from ner mainmast-head, and the shrill whistle of her boatswain was heard, as he piped all hands on deck. As to referring to either king or conncil, lord high chancellor or secretary of state, for orders to put to sea, such an idea never entered the head of stout Sir Andi*ew Wood; who sometimes was not over-particular, for it is recorded that once during u private quarrel with the Provost of Aberdeen, he sailed up the Don with the king's ships, and bombarded the granite city in a fashion which its citizens never forgot or forgave. Falconer stood on the poop looking regretfully at the house of the Drummonds, with its large round towers, which were then almost washed by the river ; but Barton was all life and anima- tion; and with a celerit}'^ astonishing for an age when every species of mechanism was rude and in its infancy, the ships of war were got under way. The boatswain manned the windlass, and after a few hard tugs with the handspikes, they tripped tb inchor and turned " The engine round, At every turn tlie clanpring pauls resound ; Uptorn reluctant from .ts oozy cave, The ponderous anchor rises o'er the wave." Its square stock appeared above the surface of the water, and then Barton seized his trumpet. " Hard up with the helm, timoneer," he cried ; " fill the head sails — on board with the foretack ! haul out the spanker and set the spritsail. Forecastle there — cat and fish the anchor !" " Quick, my lads !" added the boatswain ; "yare, yare — mor»y hands mak licht wark." " Sheet home," said the admiral, stamping his feet as he walked up and down the poop impatientl}'-, and at every turn looked aloft ; " sheet home ! Barton, hoist the top-gallant sails 1 Gadzooks, but it is a brave breeze this ! Archy of Anster, send your sharpest man to the crow's-nest as a look-out, and see that he kens a fleet of ships from a flock of gulls. By the whale oi Jonas ! I will give a hundred golden angels to the first man who discovers these English pirates !" Cuddle the coxswain scampered up aloft, and perched himself in the main-cross-trees. As the great square niainsails of the frigates fell, they begsi to feel the full pressure of their canvas, and gathered way ; the transient bustle subsided, and as the broad sails swelled out from the yardheads, and the glassy river rippled beneath their sharp and lofty prows, they sto^d noitielessly down the opeuiag TO SCAt M Tay with the ebbing tide, and a western wind, right aft to beat them onward. Willi evening a soft opal-coloured light stole over the summef sky. The heat oi' tlie day hud subsided, and a light breeze stole along the water, walling from the shores of that majeslic river the rich fragrance of the apple-bowers, the ripening grain, and the thousand plants that flourish by its margin. The great square tower of St. Mary, the pointed spire of St. Clement, the Kock of St. Nicholas, and the little burgh — for it was then indeed but a small but beautiful Dundee, — became shrouded in the haze of the warm summer evening, as the frigates, keeping straight in the fair way, rounded Tentsmuir- point, the sands of Abertay, and then bore away a point or two towards the south, with the western wind upon the quarter, when the sun's ra3'^s were fading behind the undulating coast of Forgan, or, as it then was named, St. Fillan. People supped early in those days ; thus, an hour after sunset, the bell in the great cabin announced that the evening meal was ready. " By Heaven ! admiral, I have an appetite for the first time since my father's death!" said Barton, as he took his seat with a flushed brow. " Gadzooks, Eobbie, if Cuddie descries those Englishmen " " I will add two hundred angels to thine, admiral, and rig hiia a crayer of his own — and she shall be the best that ever was launched on the Forth or the Tay ! " Father Zuill, the chaplain, who sat on Wood's right hand, blessed the viands, which consisted of a platter of fried garvies fresh from the Tay, two great pies, one called a gibelotte, which the Scots had adopted from their friends the French, and have now abbreviated into gihlet; and the other a tower of paste, containing all the odds and ends the cook could collect in his larder. This was designated a double-decker. There were pief of quinces and orange marmalade for dssert, and cases of sack and canary for those who sat above the salt ; with a great leather jack of ale for Arch}'- the boatswain, Willie W^ad the gunner, Cuddie the coxswain, the captains of the fore, main, and mizen- tops, who sat below this line of demarcation, and who, instead of supping off plate and a silk-edged table-cloth like the officers, were bound to content them with a plain bare table and wooden treen-plates, with horn-handled knives, and spoons. The conver- sation was general and animated, for it ran chiefly on the merits and death of Sir Andrew Barton, the probable strength of the incmy, and the chances of overhauling them. When supper was Qver, Sii- Andiew desired all to fill their cans, for the toast which 100 THE YELLOW FEIGATE. he invariably gave every night, at the same lioiir and in the same place, when on board, and had dctne so for the last thirty years. " The gude Port o' Leith, messmates — God bless it, and a' our Scottish ships at sea !" When again they came on deck, the ships were off the Eden mouth, and the waves of St. Andrew's stormy bay were roUhig wheir crests away to windward. As the light breeze swept over them, they were tinted with a thousand prismatic hues by the broad white summer moon, which rose in her clearest beauty from the German Sea. Falconer's thoughts were then of Sybilla, whom he loved so well and perhaps so vainly ; and abandoning himself to the fondest reveries, he brooded deeply over his passion amid the majestic silence of the sea that swept around him, and the distant land, whose headlands jutted into that shining mirror in bold but hazy outlines. Barton loved Euphemia Drurr jiond not a whit less than the captain of arquebussiers loved her younger sister ; but with the secure feeling of a fiance, for the present he dismissed her fair image from his breast, and gave full play to those high hopes of fully avenging his gallant father on the very men who had slain him, and whose ships he knew were on those moonlit waters, which he was incessantly scanning with eagerness and im- patience, but with his unaided eyes alone: for telescopes were not invented for nearly a hundred and twenty years after. The old admiral, who burned to punish the slayers of his venerable friend and messmate, more than to avenge the temporary disgrace — if disgrace it was — cast by the Howards upon the rising prowess of the Scottish mariners, shared all the impatience of Barton, and together they trod up and down the weather side of the poop, frequently hailing Cuddie, who was still perched at the crosstree, to be assured that he kept a proper look-out. The night stole on ; the moon began to sink ; the frigates were still going free with the wind upon the quarter ; Fifeness, with )he dangerous Carr-rock, arose on the starboard-bow, and the old admiral, who knew every part of the coast as well as the feature? of his own face, now looked from time to time at the compasseji which stood in the lighted binnacle, or as the seamen then named it, hahbitacle — i. e., a small house, for there were two — one for khe steersman and another tor the gunner who was conning. The Margaret was now a falcon-shot astern, and the great poop-lantern of the Yellow Frigate was lighted j but this pre- caution was needless, as her cloud of snow-white canvas and all her taut black rigging were as visible to her consort under the «leav blue sky of night as if at noonday. •*PiieaeBS in sijjjht, and »o sip-u of them yetl" muttered the TO SEAT 101 adniira] ; " square the yards, Barton, and stand riglit away befor« the breeze." The temporary hastle of this manoeuvre soon subsided; the rope-ends were again coiled away, and, save the watch and some of the crew, who were listening to another of the boatswain's incredible yarns in the forecastle, all the ship's company had nrned into their hammocks. About the middle watch of the night, Barton, who was still impatiently pacing the deck, heard the man (who for a time had replaced the coxwain) at the mast- head hailing the deck. " Poop, ho !" " Hallo," answered Barton, instinctively grasping his trumpet, which lay on the binnacle; "are you aloft, Dalquhat ?" ** Twa sail are in sicht, sir." " Where away, my old Carle ?" " On the larboard bow." *' What are they like ?" " Ilk ane is a three-masted ship. Ane has a poop lantern — the other is hull doon ; but we are coming up wi' them hand owre hand." " Look hard, shipmate, and mayhap ye may see another," said Barton ; " Falconer, call the admiral. Yeomen of the sheets and braces, to your quarters ; up with that fore- top-gallant-sail a bit, and fill the heads of tlfat sprit-sail-yard. How does she steer, Wad?" " Like a swan," replied the gunner ; " a wee baini micht keep her full wi' a silken twine." The admiral now came on deck, and with a beating heart the gallant Barton sprang away aloft, to have a look at the vessels »-head, and praying as he went, that they might prove to be those of Captain Edmund Howard. By this time the silver moon had waned, and the hills of Fife were melting into the darkened sea and cold, blue, starlit gk/ Mtern. UA THE YELLOW FRIGATE. CHAPrEE XIV. THE OGBE OP ANGUS. •* I snuff up the smell of a corse from afar — Whither goest thou, wild steed ? Whither fliest, cawJJwf Does the warrior seek for the pathway of war? Does the wild steed seek for pasture here ? The wind of the desert here battles alone — None but serpents inhabit the wilderness stone— Kone but skeletons slumber upon the ground. And the vultures in solitude hover around." Fro7n the Polish of ilicMewis*. The gun which was fired from the Yellow Frigate before she sailed from her moorings at Dundee attracted the attention oi many in the town, and among others Hew Borthwick, who, at a bench outside the gate, had been teaciiing the constables men- at arms, who loitered about the king's lodging (as St. Margaret's Palace was sometimes named), various ti'icks with cards and dice. Hurrying down St. Clement's Wynd with others, to the beach, he saw the frigate under full sail, standing down the riv'^er. " What the devil's i' the wind now?" was his first thought; " if Sir Andrew encounters Howard on the high seas, our special plan will assuredly be blown up like a "feoap-bubble ! Can Gair have suspected us ? Impossible ! the fellow knew nothing, save that we boarded a ship — and what of that ? Well, well, let those laugh who win this desperate game. But it looks ill, yonder old grampus putting to sea in such haste," he continued, after a pause ; " I must een hie me to Broughty, and see Sir Patrick." In those days there were but two hostelries in Dundee, and as neither of these had confidence enough in human virtue to entrust our worshipful knight with a horse, he was obhged to depart ou foot for Broughty, passing out of the town by the shore instead of the Seagate and market-place, for which he had a decided aver sion ; and, indeed, wretch as he was, he could never pass througn the latter without a shudder, as it recalled certain passages iif the history of his family, with which we may now acquaint the reader. In many ancient records, but chiefly that old and quaint chronicle of Scotland written by Robert Lindesay, Laird of Pits- cot tie, we are informed, that about thirty- eight years before the time of our story, there was a strange being named Ewain Gavelrigg, who dwelt among the Sidlaw hills in Angus, and who with his whole family was accused of the strange and horrible orime of eating human fle.sh I THE OGBE OP ANGT5B. 103 At the foot of the mountains, he occupied a small hut, availed with turf and thatched with heather, at a place called Uach-daif Tir — now Auchtertyre ; but his chief haunt was that savage pass m the Sidlaws, known as the Glack of Newtyle, where he waylaid, robbed, and slew the solitary travellers who chanced t and more feigned respect, as the swarthy Earl of Angus, still clad as usual in his armour, the statesman-like Lord Drummond^ wearing a suit of black velvet edged with corded gold, the Lords Hailes, Home, Stirling of Keir, and the Hereditary Forester of Drum, all partially clad in buff and steel, and the grim old Steward of Menteith, with his long Highland cliob, and por- tentous beard that reached nearly to the top of his kilt, entered the apartment, making a great clatter with their long •teel Rippon spurs, and those enormous swords, for the manufac- 5ure of which the sword slipcers of lianlF bade fair to rival those CONCLAVE OF MALCONTENTS. Ill of ColoE^ne and Toledo, and which were of such preposteiom length, that they were generally worn across the back, with the hilt at the left shoulder, over which they were unsheathed when necessary. Now, since James had declined his pilgrimage to Amiens, and Angus, leader of the peers, was quite averse to the invasion of Brittany, to destroy Montrose, Wood, and other favourites of the king, there seemed to be no other resource but a general appeal to arms ; and yet the malcontent bai'ons were perhaps loth to engage again in a project so desperate. " I ken o' nocht for us but an open raid and massacre o' the king's garrisons, if they hauld aloof," said the stem Steward of Menteith. " Those paid soldiers are but an insolent curb upon the auld and inborn power of the nobles." "Massacre!" reiterated Angus, with one of his dark smiles; " and what then, Steward of Menteith ? The king can readilj find new garrisons and new favourites, who will again keep tht power in their own hands, to the exclusion of our interests." "Then let us dethrone the king," growled the Forester of Drum. " And crown young Rothesay in his stead, whether he will or not," added the Laird of Keir. " I like not the project," said Drummond, who was the most politic and least violent noble there; " dethrone ! it hath a new and strange sound, sirs, to a Scottish ear." " Dethrone — and why not, my lord?" asked Sii' James Shaw, who was now flushed with wine; " in our past history there are precedents enough even for the most unscrupulous. Without going back to that barbarous age when Fergus II. restored the monarchy, have we nut had Constantine I., who wa^ slain by a [iord of the Isles ; and Ferquhai'd I., who fell into the errors of the P » agians, and for his contempt of all holy rites w^as de- throne! by his nobles, and cast into a dungeon, where he died like a Eoman of old ; Malduin, v>-ho was strangled by his queen ; and the son of Findon, who was shot by an arrow ? Had we not Ewen VIII., 'who was slain for having wicJced favourites^ all of whom ended their lives on a gallows, around which the people held jubilee as round a maypole? And did not Eth, Malcolm I., and Colin, all die at the behest of an in- sulted people? And last of all, was there not Duncan II., whom the Earl of Meam slew by one stroke of his dagger ?" " The last you have named reigned four hundred years ag(j^ Sir James," replied Lord Drummond, coldly ; " but I do hope in my heart, that the measures which suited the thanes oi the eleventh century and their more barbarous predecessors, are alto- 112 THE TELLOTV FEIGATE. getlier anfagon'stic to the sentiments of the Scottish peers of James III." A partial murmur of pretended assent responded to this reply, and thus encouraged, the old lord continued — " When I remember the love of this young king for me, and how he placed a coronet on my head, I feel something of remorse when men speak as thou, Sir James, hast spoken." " My lord," retorted the fiery haron, " in this desperate game, the man who feels remorse is lost !" " Alas ! I fear me it is but too true." " Eemorse !" added Gray ; " pshaw ! 'tis but weakness of mind md narrowness of soul !" Lord Drui.mond made an impatient step forward, but Angus gi'asped his arm. '' Knight of Kyneff," said he, with a reddening brow and quiyering lip, " I can afford to pardon this rashness of speech, which a younger man and soldier would be compelled to resent. I am an old man now, sirs, but while this dear Scotland of ours required my sword, it was never allowed to rest in its scabbard ; and if it is for the good of the people, whose natural head are the nobles, I will unsheath it against a corrupt court, as readily as against our hereditary foemen of England or elsewhere." " In this hast thou spoken well ; for by one grand stroke must this corrupt court be swept away !" said the Earl of Angus, who as 3"et had not spoken much, but in whose breast was concen- trated all the pride of feudal nobility, and the memory of a loi'^y ancestry, whose origin was lost in the dark ages of Scottish anti- quity, and whose military glory was incorporated with the past history of the nation. " My lords and gentlemen, I will appeal to you, whether it is not an intolerable thing that I, who am lieutenant-general of the kingdom, must receive orders and edicts from this new-fangled Duke of Montrose, whose ancestry were but Lairds of Crawford and Glenesk when mine were Earls of Douglas and Lords supreme of Galloway ? — men who, since the days when Sholto the Swarthy won the Dale of Douglas by his valour, have been foremost in every field that is honourable to Scotland, — ^en who bore on their shields the red lion of the Gal- wegii at the battles of Largs, Theba, and Northallerton, and whose war cry, six hundred years ago, found a tenible echo in the ranka of the Longobardi ! I will rather die, as many of them have died, on the red field of battle, than stoop their honoured crest to this ignoble yoke ! Aid me to drive these tawdry courtiers into England or the sea, and I will make thee, Drummond, Great Chamberlain of Scotland." "It would appear to me," said Sir James Shaw, who was CONCLAVE OF MA f-rn STENTS. Hi Miiildng over annllier pot of wino, " Hint thou, my Lord Iliiikv art better tittod ibr tlie ollice of treasurer than yonder old Suracet*, Knoll is, the Prior of Rhodez." " Yes, and we shall make his pond friend ITome lord privy seal, in lieu of that old foutre the Trovost of Lincluden," addeJ Sir Patrick Gray, half in jest. "Accept my thanks, sirs," replied Home; ** but are there no pretty places ^-ou could choose for yourselves P" " Why, let me think," muttered Gray ; " I have some old feuds in the Howe of An^nis— feuds which have been standing over since my father fought ]Ivuitly at the battle of Brechin, on Ascension-day in '53, and I would like for one month— only a month, sii-s — to be judge of justiciary, with a commission of fire and sword against all malcontents." " Eight," hiccupcd Shaw; "by St. Beelzebub! and thou shalt be cleric of justiciary too, instead of that painted fop, Halket ol Bfltico, and I shall be lord clerk register. The Laird of Baille- Crait? hath a pretty young wife and a cellar of pretty old wine-, we shall contiscate both. Sir Patrick — for he is a malcontent, and master of the king's hounds." During this, the Earl of Ano-us, who had been whispering aside with the politic old chief of the Drummonds, now stepped forward with a peculiar smile on his dark visage. It almost amounted to drollery, if such an expression ever lighted up that swarthy and stern, yet handsome face, before which the sister ol Henry VIII. of England quailed when his bride at the altar, and knelt^down hi the dust at the castle gate of Edinburgh, thirty- six years afterwards. "My lords and gentlemen, I crave your attention," said het * the Lord Drummond, although steward of Strathearn and head of his house, does not feel that his family is sufficiently powerful to take the Held formally against the court. His coronet is som&= what newer than mine, and consequently seems to him, perhaps, of greater value. Thus he proposes to strengthen himself by two alliances in marriage, through which he calculates on having at least, for the security of himself and his cause, six other castles, well fm-nished with men and artillery, and four thousand border horse and Lothian spearmen. His three daughters ai'O beautiful, dnd as we know, my lords, a,re peerless (in more ways than one). He therefore proposes to make you, my Lords of Home and Hailes, his sons-in-law, giving to each a good slice of his arablf land in bonnie Strathearn, and three of Montrose's best farms in the glen of Kincardine. Now, my lords, you have a noble chanc€ \) win earls' coronets, with fair countesses to share thom. Bj> 9u Bryde of Kildaral" he ndde.d. t.uvuiii.ir to Stirling of Keir. II IM THE YELLOW FRIGATE. " were I not espoused to your dear daughter, Sir WilHara, I would lay my heart and sword at the feet of one of these beau- tiful Drummonds." There was a general, but very subdued titter at this proposal ; Shaw and Gray laughed so immoderately that Lord Drummond grew red with anger, and tall Angus bent his formidable gaze inquiringly upon them. The fierce old Steward of Strathearn stroked his white beard (which seemed the exact counterpart of his Highland sporran), and adjusted his belted plaid, with the au' of a man who was about to say something for himself if the younger suitors declined ; though he had already handfasted by force the fair daughter of a cock-laird in Glenartney. There was a momentary pause, for the two young Southland peers were con- founded by the sudden proposition, though such hastily conceived alliances were by no means uncommon in those days, when the Scottish nobles availed themselves of every means of strengthen- ing themselves for those sudden raids and revolts which were the ruin of the national strength, and the terror of the rising middle- class. ** For my own part," said Hailes, hastening to break the silence, *' I beg to offer my most dutiful thanks to the Lord Drummond, and to say, that I will consider it the task — or rather the plea- sm'e — of my life to love his fair daughter Sybilla, and if he will honoui me with her hand, two thousand of the best lances in Eastern Lothian will follow his banner to death! Alexander Home, what sayest thou?" " All that you have said, I too am ready to perform — except- ing that instead of spearmen, I bring two thousand troopers from Tweedside and the IMerse, for I have long admired the Lady Eu- phemia Drrmmond, and would soon have learned to love her, but feared she was betrothed to the rich heir of Sir Andrew Barton." " Robert Barton is a brave, good fellow," said Lord Drummond, **but a stanch king's man." "And the son of a merchant skipper," said Angus; "so it ia yom* bounden duty, Home, to save a noble lady from such a mis- alliance." " I place myself at the complete disposal of her father," replied Home, whom, like Hailes, the dazzling beauty of the profiered bride had made completely tractable ; " but what shall we say il each of these fair dames assert a woman's right of choice ?" At this idea Lord Drummond laughed aloud, for that was a *nffht which was but ill defined in Scotland till the middle or nearly the end of the last century. "Wine — wine I more Rochelle and Bordeaux to drink tc CONCLAVE OF MALCONTFITTS lU these fiiir brides and facile bridegrooms !" cried the half-intoxi* eated Governor of Stirling, as he thundered on the oaken table with a silver drinking-pot. " Gray, is thy devil of a butler deaf, or is the cellar empty ?" " We have three butts of Rochelle, a bombarde of Bordeaux, and Lammas ale enow to swim the Yellow Frigate,"' replied the chatelain; " but, on my soul, Sir James, I think thou'st had wough before dinner." "More wine, I tell thee, thou inhospitable! Bring up the bombarde, and I will teach thee an infallible thrust, by which thou wilt always kill an adversary, even though girded in a tripla coat of mail. By my faith, old Drummond, thou art a wise carle! Take lords, while thou canst get them; — better have sarsrs to day than hens to-morrow. Ha ! ha !" ^°#*'# * * * * Altogether unaware of the troubles in store for them, the three daughters of Drummond at that very time were seated on the bartizan of their ancient mansion in Dundee, watching the white sails of the Yellow Frigate and her consort, as they shone in the setting-sun, and diminished on those waters which the western light tinged with a golden glow. With anxious eyes and saddened hearts, the dark-haireK Euphemia and hazel-eyed Sybilla gazed after them, for they knew not on what errand the ships had sailed so hurriedly ; and there they lingered long after the summer sun had sunk beyond the beautiful Carse of Gowrie, and its rays had faded from the green conical hill of Dundee, which was then girded by the ruined ramparts of a castle, averred by history to have been the habitation of Catanach, King of the Picts, and afterwards of Donald I. of Scotland. By their side sat Margaret, pale and thoughtful as usual, with little Lizzie and Beatrix nestling by her side. The ocean became a darker blue, and blended with the sky; bells rang for vespers in the many ecclesiastical buildings of the town, which then pos- sessed four great chui'ches, five convents, and thirteen chapels ; and reluctantly and with silent anxiety the three fair girls withdrew from the proud bartizan to the chamber of dais below. By this time their politic — perhaps we ai'e not wrong in saying cunning — old father was leaving the tower of Broughty, accompanied by his tv\-o intended sons-in-law, and two gentlemen, ooth Drummoiids of Strathearn, who were his constant attend- ants, and were constantly armed to the teeth. Borthwick, wha nad finished his letter, and was loitering in the archway, beckoned to his lordship, and uncovering his head with great respectr 116 THE YELLOW FBIGAi... craved a ./ord with him, for he had not for^'otten the paneh hi received on the head from the fiv-ry young Duke of Uothe^^ajj and his heart yet burned to be reven^'ed for it. "Well, ^ood fellow, what would you with me?** asked the noble, as he cheeked his horse, for he was in excellent humour at thii prospect of two sach powerful alliances for h'la dau.2:hter3. "I am one who has a sincere friendship for your lordship, and a rf^f^ard f'^)r the honour of your family," said Borthwick in 9 Vi'liisper; " and I beg to warn you, that by watching well, there- niav be discovered a certain masked man, wearing a scarlet mantle, who visits your mansion under cloud of night — generally about the hour of ten — and who enters a postern by the way of Fish-street." The old lord glanced hastily at Home and Ilailes, but fortu- nately they were beyond earshot ; so he turned sternly to Borth- wick, and said, — " Fellow, art suve of what tliou tellest me ?" " Sure as I have now the honour of addressing you." " A scarlet mantle, say you ; — the Lord Lindesay wears one ; — 'tis like his insolence. Well, this eavesdropper shall die ! But who art thou?" " A friend and follovv-er of Sir Patrick Gray, who will vouch for my veracity." " A most worthy recommendation !" said the old lord, ironi- cally ; " but I thank you, sir, and will w^atch, believe me. This muffled man may find it perilous work, and that he had better, as our motto hath it, gaj^g warily, or b3'de at home. Carnock — Balloch !" he added to the two gentlemen referred to, " come hither." They cantered up to his side; and with all the ardour of vengeance. Hew Borthwick watched theii* chief as he repeated the information just received, and no doubt gave them the neces' sary instructions how to waylay and discover this unknown interloper. " So much for thee and thy blow," said he, with one of his hyaena laughs ; " and this for thy simple father." For a moment he contemplated his letter, which was written on the coarse grey paper then coming into use, folded square, pierced at the corners with blue ribbons, which were tied saltirewise, and sealed with purple wax like a royal letter,-— sealed, moreover, by the king's own private signet, which Borth- wick applied to this most infamous use. The traitor gazed complacently at his handiwork, and then concealing it binder bis •wailet mantle, l^e returned to tlie CONCLA.VE OF MALCONTENTS. 117 tapcistiied rcwm, -vshere Kyneff wp.s still drinl-.ing, and Sii Jamc* Shiiw was now lying prostrate on tlie riiatted floor, and com- pletely intoxicated. CIIAPTErv XVL ANOTJIER SON-I^'•LAr,'! But Flatc-craft, rrninly. was his pride and boagi ' the goiden medium' was liis guiding star, Which means ' Move on until you're uprt^rniost, And then things can't be better than they arc I' I'rief in two rules, he summed the ends of man — Ace;; all you have, and try for ail you can ! KisG Ahthch. . , icxT day was Sunday, and, a? usual in thai age, the people of Dundee, alter mass, were shooting at the butts with arquebus and bow ; for, by the same act of the Scottish legislature which abolished the games of football and golf, targets were ordained to be set up by the sheriffs near every parish kirk, where, busked as archers, all the young men repaired to shoot at least six arrows, each a clothyai'd long, under fine of twopence; and thus in eveiy town, however small, there was an arrow-maker who drove a thriving trade, though fii*earms were rapidly super- seding the more ancient weapon, in the use of which the Low- land Scots never equalled the English or the Highlanders. The Duke of Eothesay, with Lord Lindesay and other young corn-tiers, mingled with the burgesses, and took shot about in their turn among the sailcloth-wabsters, bonnet-makers, and baxters at the butts; for it was one of the greatest charms, and the leading wish of the Stuart princes while in Scotland, to be tonsidered a part of the people, rather than as jewelled demi- gods enthroned on pedestals, and placed above the lot of common humanity. On this morning, it was remarked that the young prince did not shoot as was his wont, that his arrows fell wide of the mark ; that he was abstracted, careless, and iretful ; tor overnight a trooper had arrived from the captain of the king's band in Annan, stating that there was a rumoui- of the old Bishop of Dunblane having been wantonly seized on the high Keas by Sir Stephen Bull, an English captain, who had carried the reverend lord a prisoner, w^ith all his papers, to Henry VII., 4t London. Tidmgs like these spread like wildfire among the people, ^gravating the angry bitterness occasioned by the aHsa^dt or 118 THE YELLOW FJRIGATE. Bai-ton's ships in time of peace ; the English fa-ction, and ihose who, for their own infamous ends, were anxious to fui'ther Rothesay's marriage with Margaret Tudor, hung their heads; while the national party, whose eyes were alwa3^5 tui'ned to- wards the continent for royal alliances, openly exulted, and ex- pressed the utmost resentment at an insult which yet required confirmation. The fii'st thought of the young prince was his Margaret, and ot what her emotions would be ; for on that kind bishop's return she had garnered up the inmost hopes of her heart. "Oh ! how he longed for evening, and cursed the lagging hours! Evening came at last, and then more sombre night. Masked, muffled in his cloak, and armed with his sword and poniard, Rothesay again left the little provincial palace of St. Mai-garet by the private door, and proceeded to the house of Lord Drummond. As he traversed the dark and narrow Fish- street, he did not perceive three watchers, who were also disguised, for they wore short black cloaks and iron salades, which com- pletely concealed their faces, having only a horizontal slit for the eyes ; they wore boots with felt soles, and had long swords at their girdles. These were Lord Drummond, and his clansmen Balloch and Carnock ; none of them recognised Rothesay, who, without per- ceiving the three figures which glided after him like dark shadows, reached the northern arcade of the old house, and by his master- key opened the private door which led to the secret stair (the entrance and windings of which Lord Drummond had hitherto supposed to be knovrn to himself only), and ascended straight to the bower oi liis mistress. While his heart swelled with rage and astonishment, the chief resolved to discover the masker, and to probe the aflfair to the bottom. He di-ew his sword, and desiring his friends to keep sure watch in the street, followed cautiously, but noiselessly, behind the young prince. On that evening Lady Margaret had heard the rumour of the old bishop's capture, and, with a heart that was full almost to bursting, she sought the little oratory — every house had one in those days — to pray and weep ; but it was already occupied, for her sisters Lizzie and Beatie, who had the special charge of the altar, were industriously dusting the cushions, and preparing all for the morrow's mass, after which they knelt down together, to pray and invoke the protection of St. Margaret, with whom their ancestor, Andreas Dromond, had come out of Hungary into Scotland. " Pray for me, dear Lizzie," said Margaret, in a tremulous voice, fts she paused at the altar-raiL AJWOTHER 30W-l^•-LAW. 11J> " I praj for you all— my father, Euphemia, Beatic, and Sybic — " «aid the little girl, in a whisper, as she tied up a bouquet of white roses, " and for my new doll, when it is good, and for kind Robert Barton, and Sir David Falconer, when they are on the Fea. Do I not, sweet mother?" said the child, looking up at a beautiful white image of the Madonna, which, with the infant Jesus in her arms, stood above tlie a.tar, draped by a veil, and crowned by a circlet of gold. " Oh, sister Lizzie," whispered Be<'i:ie, " is not that a dear, dear wee baby?" " How I should like to have just s ich a baby, for my doll feU and broke its nose," responded the <>ther; "if you had such a baby, would you not love it, sister Maggie ?" Margaret thought of her little babe that slept in the secret alcove, and her tears fell fast. •* Say one praj-er especially for me, for indeed the wishes of such pure souls as yours must bo like unto those of angels," replied Margaret, as she kissed her pretty little sisters on the forehead, and lest they should perceive her tears, though the oak oratory was but dimly lighted by a silver lamp suspended from the roof, she hurried away to her own apartment, where she found Rothesay hanging over their sleeping offspring, which lay within its curtained alcove, like a waxen doll. She threw herself into his arms, and gave vent to a long and passionate fit of weeping; Rothesay did all in his power to console her, and after a time succeeded. Rousseau remarks, that to the woman who loves truly, there is no mania the world ; for to her the object is 'mo)'e, and every other less ; and such was sweet Margaret's love for Rothesay ! As they sat with theii' arms as closely entwined as their hearts, ** Dearest Maggie," said he, gazing tenderly and conscience- gtricken upon her pure and pale Madonna face, and with that expression of eye that speaks of a love verging on idolatry, while he smoothed the thick tresf.es of her rich soft hair, " dearest Maggie, I must end this pair.ful and unmanly secrecy, by avowing my passion, and our marriage, to the people." "Alas! then how shall I, a poor weak girl, withstand the power of two ambitious kb gs ?" " Thou wrongest my ga d father, dear Margaret. His h«art in as free from ambition a? from guile 1" " But not from the cc*l policy that would wed you to a princess." " 1 am not the first «• our royal line who has wedded the daughter of a baron " " No — but from that can gather but little hope," sighed Maigaret. 120 THE TELLOW Fill CATS. " David TI. married Margaret Logic, the daughter of a siinDlfi knight." "Ah ! and how fared she ? Repudiated by her liiishand when his love grew cold — banished from his court, penniless and poor, she sought the protection of Urban V. at Avignon, and died ol a broken heart among strangers ; so that we know not where she, a queen of Scotland, found a grave. Better far, had she iN'cdded in her own degree, to die beloved, and sleep am.ong hoi kindred in the old chapel of Rattray." "But this was more than a hundred and thirty j-^ears ago ; and since that time Robert III. mai'ried Annabella Drummond, ol your own family." " Alas, again ! was she happy P" The piince was silent, and Margaret continued. " Does not rumour say that she died at Inverkeithing oi sorrow for the misfortunes that had descended upon the grey hairs of her good husband, and for the loss of her sons ; and then there was Jane of Somerset, who received into her bod}'^ the same sword that pierced the heart of her husband, James I. If no better fate is in store for your poor little Margaret than fell to the lot of those queenly dames, better it were a thousand times, dear prmce, that you had never seen — had never loved her." " But the king, my father, must and shall remem.ber that love levels all distinctions, and indeed knows of none," replied the prince, impatiently; "thy love for me, Maggie, raises t-iee to my rank, and mine for thee brings me down to thine, if indeed there is a difference, for a lady b}'" birth is the equal of a king! But why those sad misgivings ? and wh}^ look back to Margaret of Logie, to Euphemia of Ross, to Elizabeth Mure, to Jane, or Anna- bella, the queens of barbarous times, when our kings wore shirts of mail, drank out of pewter, and kept their courts in Scone or Rothesay. Be confident, little one, for I love thee with all tha depth of a young and honest heart — yea, Margaret, with all the strength of a burning soul ! Thou shalt yet be Queen of Scotland, for if my father, or others, drive me into this hateful English marrlige, I will join with the malcontent nobles, and when the eubs tarn upon tJie Lion, woe to Scotland then I" The prince kissed her with ardour. Then Margaret sprang tc the lit lie alcove, and noiselessly lifting out the rosy cherub, which la}' with its tiny hands folded under its dimpled and double chin, she placed it, still sleeping, in the arms of Rothesay, and knelt down at his feet, yet half reclined upon his knee, to contemplate) rheir child, the dear idol other alfectionate heart — the pledgeofher pure virgin love — nursed as it b'ld been born, in secrecy ; the only ANOrnER SON-IN-LAW. 121 solace of many a lonely and many a bitter hour. The yonnj;; yair were full of ecstasy, and oblivious of all but themselves and their beautiful babe. To them it was a reverie, a joyous waking dream ! IIow happy they were, with their bri^^ht young eyes bent over that small plump sleeping face and rosebud chin, while the rich brown locks of Rothesay mingled with Margaret's etill darker curls, as with all the expression of a Madonna she hung over her infant, with her soft eyes full of tears, and joy, and holiness. " If my father saw this beautiful child," said Margaret, " I ara quite sure he would forgive me." " Be not over confident , Madam I" said a stem voice behind them. A faint cry rose to J\largaret's lips, which, like her cheek, grew ashy pale ; and with one hand round the infant, and the other on his sword, the bold prince sprang up, to be confronted by the tall dark figure of Lord Drummoud, leaning on his naked sword, which was at least five feet long. ^ He was contemplating them with an expression of eye which it would be difficult to determine or analyse. He had overheard the whole interview j astonishment had given place to indignation; indignation to grief and anger; and these had in turn been supplanted by gratified pride and ambition. Shame crimsoned the cheeks and terror sealed the lips of poor Margaret; while confusion, Avith something of anger at being surprised, reddened the haughty brow of Rothesay, and for a moment there was a painful silence on the lips of all. " Your Grace of Kothesay has wronged me — deeply wronged me !" said the old lord, with a terrible gravity of manner, as he struck his sword uito the floor. " Had I words, my lord, to extenuate the offence I have com- mitted against you," replied the young prince modestly, as he cast down his eyes, and clasped in his the hand of the kneeling Margaret, " I would explain and apologize for my seeming mis- conduct ; but at this moment there is no coherence in my mind, and I only dread to rou^e your already too just indignation." " And thou too, Maggie ! " said her father, reproachfully and with bitterness; "it was very bad of thee to deceive me, for thon hast ever been my favourite child, and none but the blessed God can know how much I loved thee." Then, raising his voice, he added passionafely, "By the Lord of heaven and earth, my daughter, prince, must be the acknowledged Duchess of llotliesay, or 1 shall slay thee, even as the Lord Athole slew thy grandsire James the First ! " Margaret's sweet pale face became convulsed by grief, and she 1S2 THE YELLOW FEIGATE wept bitterly ; but still her father's brow grew darker^ and bia eye rested on the little babe in Rothesay's arms. " Am I to understand that you have ignobly made a Highland wedding of it, or been handfasted by some hedge priest or tramp ing pardoner, to the foul dishonour of a house as yet unsulHed by a stain? Answer me, Duke of Rothesay, for even were you heir to a thousand thrones instead of only one, I would not have the honour of my daughter and the honour of my name, trifled with even for a single hour." "Alas, my lord," said Rothesay, "why do men, who, like yourself, are no longer young, fm'get that they have ever been so ? I have loved j^our daughter long, yea, since I saw her first attend my mother's court in Stirling, a little demoiselle of the tabourette. Your lordship knows the hateful scheme of having"' an English wife for me, and how in my cradle I was betrothec to the Princess Cecilia of England, and thereafter to Henry Tudor's daughter. My heart, my afterlife and happiness, were bartered away like a useless isle or frontier town by cunning ambassadors and cold diplomatists ; but as I grew older I revolted at such a state of tutelage, and in spurning the future soon learned to love the gentlest of your daughters. She knew how I was circumstanced, but spare her, and spare me, the recapitu- lation of all I said and did to procure the honour of her hand ; for in secret we were espoused, eighteen months ago, in the cathedral of Dunblane, as its registers yet can testif}'' — espoused by Father Zuili, the admiral's chaplain, and with consent of my good friend, the Lord Bishop Chisholm, for whose return fi'ora Rome with a papal dispensation we have waited long and wearily. And here, to all unknown save to her nurse and me, Margaret bore and nursed this babe — and oh, my lord, look gently on it, for it yet may wear the crown of a hundi'ed gallant kings." " Prince, thou amazest me!" said the old lord, with a tone of severity ; " this secrecy — " "Think over it, my dear good lord and father," resumed Rothesay with energy, and in his most winning manner, for he felt that he was advocating the cause of the shi*inking Margaret, rather than his own. " Had I openly espoused your daughter, taimted by the English faction, a hundred ambitious nobles ha-^ felt themselves and their daughters insulted ; had I obtained tb« consent of ParUament for such a marriage, then long ere the dispensation for our consanguinity anived from Rome, by poison or otherwise the subtle Tudor had swept our Margai'et from hia daughter's path ; for alas ! my lord, too well do we know that ever sinoe the wars of Bruce there hath existed among us a fac- tion oi traitor Scots, each of whom lor English gold would sel' AHOTHEit euW-IN-LAW 12> nis dearest brother into slavery, even as Joseph wag sold by hie orethren— if by doing so place or pelf could be secured ; and this evil spirit will never die! Eellect upon these things, my loid —reflect upon them — pardon and advise us, ibr I am the son of your king, and Margaret may yet be Queen of Scotland and the Isles." Though Lord Drummond maintained an outward aspect of Reverity and offended dignity, he was very far fiom feeling it in his heart, and indeed was at no small pains to conceal the real gratification afforded him by this discovery of a third son- in- law, and by the prospect that if this secret marriage was proper] y brought before the king, the parliament, ai;d country, his daugh- ter would, in the first place, be hailed as Duchess of Rothesay, and if she survived James III., would assuredly be queen con- sort of the realm. He saw the rival house of Crawford eclipsed, his enemies in Strathearn crushed, the house of Drummond placed on such a pedestal as it had not occupied since the days of Kobert III. and Queen Aimabella, and the golden shower of honours, titles, perquisites, and everything that ambition could desire, descending upon his old and poHtic head. Even Hailes ihd Home, with theii' earls' coronets in perspective, dwindled down into mere nothingness before an alliance such as this ; and as for poor Robert B;iiton, he was no more thought of at that moment than an old piece of ropeyarn ! Lord Drummond raised his daughter and kissed her Avith great formality, upon which she threw herself into his arms in a passion of gratitude and joy. " Come to me, dear Maggie," said he ; " I forgive thee ; but secret as ye kept this matter, be yet more secret now, I pray you, until the time appointed for revealing all. Ye have been stand- ing, as it were, upon a precipice, for royal alliances and a noble'a honour are not to bep%ed with like gems or gawds; for men- even the wisest and greatest— neither make nor mar them at pleasure. Be secret still, I implore you, keeping this unwary marriage from others, even as ye have kept it from me. The bishop has been seized, and Henry of England, for purposes ot his own, will destroy the dispensation ; but we wUl have a sharp war anent it, and then all hope for the English match will die amid the crash of swords and lances, the boom of cannon and the flight of flanes. But come, prince, the night waxes apace ; the morrow is a new day, when I must, in the first instance, confer with the king your father, and in the second, have this little babe — this poor wee imp of love, perchance of wrath — committed to some of my surest vassals in Stratheai-n. Come, Rothesay, come." "Adieu, Maggie," said the prince, as he kissed her hand and 124 THE YELLOW feioatb, retired by the secret door ; " adieu, iny best, my first, ai^d dea^ est hope !" And as the Lord Drumrnoud hurried hira away, he saw poof Margiiret, as if overcome by the whole interview, sink down, pale, breathless, and exhausted, into her prle-dleii, with hei face buried in her hands. He gave her an anxious and impassioned glance, the last he was fated to bestow on Margaret Drummond for many a lon^ And many an anxious day. CHAPTER XVII. TOE WAELOCK OF BALWEAUTE. " Tbc morning e'e saw niirtli and glee, in the hoary feudal towor ; Of bauld Sir Alan Jlortiraer, Tlie Lord o' Aberdour. Eut dool was there, and mickle care, When the moon began to gleam, For elve and fay held jubilee, Beneath her siller beam." — Vedkeb. While the?? events xv^xe. occurring in bonnie Dundee, Sir An- ('rew Wood, intent on avenging the fall of his friend, Sir Andrew Barton, but no way dreaming that the fate of two affectionnte hearts, perhaps the fate oi' two rival kingdoms, depended on his severely overliauling the ships of Edmmid Howai'd, was cruising with his frigates on the German Ocean. The tvp'o ships, in pursuit of which we left the Yellow Frigate and lier consort some pages back, proved to be only large three- masted caravels, belonging to the Prior of Pittenweem., laden with wheat and malt for Denmark; and when hailed through the trumpet, if they had seen aught of three English ships, their skippers a.nswered in the negative. This discovery proved a source of great satisfaction to Cuddy the coxswain, who had feared that his messmate Dalquhat was about to gain the pro* mised reward. He took his place again in the mam-cross-trees, and had not been there long before he reported other two sails in sight on the stai'board quarter. Barton eagerly mounted into the raizen-top. The upper sails oi' the distant vessels were then visible, even to his unassisted eye, for they shone white as snow in the light of the morning sun, which rose in unclouded brilliance from the eastern sea; and the shore of Fife, with the bold bluff Isle of May, were dimly rael- k)wed lA the morning haze. THE WAKLOCK OF BALWTIAIME. 12S "TTow ac they sfocr, Cuddle P" asked Captain Barton. "Dead for Dunbar Harbour." " Have they any colours Hying, do'st think P" " Nane, sir." " One is a hirge three-masted ship, with her mainmast fiddc* at the topcastle," said Barton, as he reached the deck ; "her for<» and rnizcn are in one spar each, but ■\vitli every rag of canvas set aloft ; the other is hull down yet, but I take her to be a small nierchantman." " It m:!tters not," replied the admiral ; " 'bout ship and over, haul theiu." The fviq-ii.te was put about, a manoeuvre immediately followed by the Queen Margaret, and both steered for the Isle of May : by this time the two strange sails were placed upon the lee-bow. riie bustle caused by this manoeuvre brought on deck Father Zuill, the ship's chaplain, a grave but kind old man, whose brains were so much steeped in aostruse study, lore, and scientific yagarics, as to be of little use either to himself or others. To Jefend him from the cool, fresh air of the morning sea, he was yell muflied in a coarse blue over-coat, shaped like a cassock, with wide sleeves, and a cowl which fell behind ; on his head was a coarse blue bonnet. A cord encircled his waist, and thereat hung l^.is cross and rosary, with a pocket-dial, or perpetual almanack, of brass. In one hand he had a pen, in the other a little volume, bound in vellum and clasped with gold ; he had been studying it overnight, till his eyes became red and inflamed, and he had applied himself to it immediately again, after morn« ing prayers. ^ It was one of this good man's crotchets to imagine that, by discovering the true burning-glasses of the ancients, he would supersede the use of cannon and gunpowder, and this idea being ever uppeimost in his head, he saw everything through its medium. " If these should be English ships," said he, " have you no scruple. Sir Andrew anent lighting on Sunday ?" " Scruple ! gadzooks, no — the devil a bit ! There is no Sunday k five-fathom water ; and here, I believe, we have somewhere about seventy by the line ; besides, Father Zuill, bethink thee of the saw — ' the better day, the better deed.' Barton, run out that sp inker-boom, and sheet home the foretopsail ; keep ail hands or deck." ^ These orders were obeyed in the time I have taken to writt them. " Hast thou heard, father," resumed the admiral, "that Yasco de Gama, a certain valiant mariner of Portugal, hath sailed from ]26 THE YELLOW FRIGATE^ the Rock of Lisbon to reacli India by weathering the Ca|)e of Storms ?" " Yes — but he will nev^er do it," replied the friar, emphatically. " I fear me so, for the good Bartholomew Diaz — he who gave me this Moorish poniard — tried it with two fair barks of fifty tons each, four years ago, and failed completely." " 'Tis because of an evil spirit who dwells on the top of the Table-Mountain," said the chaplain; "a spirit whose angry breath can whelm the largest caravel in the ocean." *' Yta, father, the Storm Fiend," replied the admiral ; " old Diaz lold me that he saw his shadowy form in the clouds, over hanging his mainmast head, for many days." " But De Gama hath received from his king a consecrated banner, having in its centre the white cross of the Military Order i>f Christ ; and, moreover, he hath a letter to Prester John, of the Indies." " Would that I were with him !" said Sir Andrew. " By my faith, laird of Largo, thou art safer within a league of the auld Isle of May," replied the chaplain, who was somewhat piqued by the admiral's general unbelief in burning-glasses ; " for I verily believe that none can inhabit the torrid clime beyond Cape Non, v/hich lies in twenty-nine degrees north latitude." " That maintopsail shivers, Barton," said Sir Andrew, stamp- ing his foot, as he gazed alternately aloft, and at the yet distant «hips, which they were approaching by crossing their south-east course ; " this devilish breeze is failing us already." " Would that I could give you the winds in a bag," said the chaplain, " like the heathen, of whom we may read in this little book." The admiral, who had no great love for the chaplain's books, which he thought savoured overmuch of sorcery, glanced suspi- ciously at the little tome, which was no other than " The Boke oj Uneydos, made in Latin by that noble Poete and grete Gierke, Vyrgyle, and newly translated from the Frenche into Englishe" —a gift from James III. to the chaplain, who continued, — " Ei^ long, Sir Andrew, I may serve you in other ways, and now I havB a notable opportunity for experimenting." " What, with thy devilish glasses again !" exclaimed the admiral, as the chaplain descended the ladder and entered thi door of the poop without replying. Almost immediately afterwards he reappeared, bearing in hik arms a machine which very closely resembled something between those now used b}'' a photographer and the theodolite of an engineer, for it consisted of a little oaken box, containing a long brass tube, with a multitude of little mirrors, screws, and glasses, THE WAHLOCIv OF B\LWKARTE. 127 concave and convex, the wliolo being propped on tliree logs triangubirly, and forming their apex. For want of a better jiame, this mj'steriou^ apparatus was christened by the unlettered crew, *' Father Zuill's hurdy-gurdy," and it was a source of secret ridicule with some and of curiosity with others; for when- ever he was seen to level his lenses at distant objects, there was a confident expectation that they would go off with a report like a brass cannon. The Romans used moveable types for stamping their nances upon cloth and vessels of clay ; thus they were very near discovering the whole art of printing. Father Zuill used lenses, and was (juite as near discovering the telescope, jet no such idea evet- occurred to him. Considering the whole affair as a mere whin>wham or harmless foible, the admiral, Barton, Fal- coner, the boatswain, and gunner, watched his operations, and made many a covert joke upon them ; but the crew, who had long since tired of experiments which ended in nothing, were grouped forward watching the approaching ships, or dozing away the hours on the sunny deck. Father Zuill levelled his lenses and arranged his glasses in such a way that the briglit morning sun, then straight astern, shone lull upon one end, while the other was pointed at the head- most ship, which was now on the lee bow, and beating hard up against a head wind. " Sir Alexander Mathieson will never sail ahead of us in a fcunny day. Father Zuill," said Falconer, laughing ; " for he fears your operating on his canvas, and burning holes in it ; — what he calls your ' damnable hurdy-gurdy.' " " Now, Father Zuill, dost thou really believe in the pov.'er of these bits of looking-glass P" asked the admiral; who, with an incredulous smile on his honest face, and his hands thrust into the pockets of his gaberdine, had been watching the futile attempts of the chaplain to ignite the white canvas of the head- most ship. " As truly as I believe that Archimedes burned the Romau fleet with glasses at the siege of Syracuse !" retorted the chaplairi. " He used concave mirrors ; and if I could only construct a para- bolic speculum, the tocus of which would reach three bowshots off, and burn there, does it not indubitably follow, that by in- ireasing the scale, I might construct another which would con- sume a city at three leagues, and scorch to death all who were in itP Hear me, sirs. If one mirror will light a spot one-fourth of its size, at a certain distance, assuredly we may presume that the reflected light of a hundred mirrors, all bearing on the same spot, will render the heat unbearable, and bring the light to that refulgent point at which it engendereth fire. So sayeth Anth^' 128 THE YF.LLOW FKlOATB. mius, who used hexagonal mirrors surrounded by others ; and so say Tzetzes, Zoiiaras, Lucian, and others. We read in ancient history, that the ships of Marcellus were consumed to ashes a^ the distance of a bowshot, when the sun's rays were at noon. 1 have heard of as much being done by two concave specula com- posed of polished brass. A little study, admiral, would make ])lain tc thee (who use the cross-staff for striking the meridian), the geometrical mode of discovering the rectilineal propagation of heat and light, as it was understood by Eustathius and Ptolemy. Thou understande»t me ?" " May r never more go to sea, if I do," replied the admiral, scratching his beard in sore perplexity. " I think all this sounds as like sorcery as one ropeyarn seems like another. No, no ! the gunner to his lintstock, the steersman to his helm, and the cook to the foresheet. Thou to thy book lear, and I to my sea- manship. By my father's soul ! I would put more reliance in a good cannon-royale with a smooth bore, and a cahn sea under the counter, than in all the glass hurdy-gurdies that ever were «een By this time the Yellow Fi-h/afe had the wind upon her »eam, and she was close upon tlie two vessels, which proved to be merely merchant-traders of Blackness, whose crews had seen nothing of the English ships in question ; and the admiral was beginning to fear that Jamie Gair had been mistaken, or that he had been sent on some false errand, for purposes unknown. His ships then stood close in shore, and steered again for the Ta}', under easy sail ; and as they were near the dangerous rock named the Carrwick, Master Wad, the gunner, took the helm, and steered on the spire of the old Cistertian kirk at Crail. " I agree wi' the admiral, Sir David," said the boatswain to the captain of the arquebussiers, as they leaned over the larboard bulwark, gazing at the coast of Fife, which was then sparkling under a brilliant noon-day sun ; " and I believe there is mickie mair o' sorcerj' than theology in Father Zuill's box o' glasses. 1 never kent o' man, wife, or bairn that throve under the influence 0* sic fause contrivances." " Yet it may not be magic," replied Falconer; "for the same thing was thought of our mariner's compass Mdien it was in- vented. For there are many things in nature, Archy, which such simple fellows as thou and 1 cannot comprehend." " I ken this. Sir David," replied the boatswain, " that I never heard o' a skipper buying a fair wind frae the witches o' Pitten- weem or Anster, but was laid bare on his beam-ends some day. I would rather hear the close-reefed foresail blawn to ribbons, %iid feel the saut spray hissing owre my head, than re^rt to THE WAniOCK or BAt-VTEARTE. 129 siccan contrivances; and I could spin yc a yam that would let ye see, Sir David, how puir mortal men .should just content them wi' whatever God is pleased to gie." " Spin away, then, boatswain; out with it, ofT the reel, wlir.e the line will run." " It was told me by my father, puir auld bodie, who is now keeping his deid reckoning in the kirkyard o' Anster Eaiti£ OF BALWEARIE. hll "'Id —ever since the night when Mortimer's cUiei's throne, shall be the first to thrust a liKhted torch r-^der i^) THE xBLLOW FSIGATB. it now. Come w'iii me, sirs," he added, hurling Ms long ewonl into its sheath of cr mson velvet j " come with me, the king is now in council." As they hurried up the wynd, taking the bewildered Eothesay with them, they heard the clatter of many hoofs, and saw the Earl of Angus, sheathed in complete armour, and attended by not less than five hundred spearmen on horseback, all heavily accoutred, pass at a hard gallop alon^- the Nethergaitt, towards ihe king's residence. " Now, what may this portend?" asked Carnock and Ballock together, with surprise. " Heaven only kno^s," said Gray, laughing under his thick beard ; " but the Douglasses never mount without good cause, be assured, sirs. How this plot thickens," thought he, as he looked towards the dim blue sea; "and how readily this muleheaded old lord, who hath no ideas of his own, adopts the good or evil suggestions of other. Now, Sauchie and I have them all, like puppets, in our grasp ! But I would fain see the mouth of yonder fellow, Borthwick, stopped with earth for ever !" At that moment they entered the palace door, and followed Lord Angus straight to the presence of the king. CHAPTER XIX. HOW JBOSTHWICK FULFILLED HIS PBOMI8E. " My path was waylaid by a band Of ruffians hired to kill ; They seized and tied me hand and faot Though me they owed no ill, '* A dreary night and day I passed; All hope was far removed ; I thought each hour would prove my last? Yet Anna still I loved." — The Druid. In fulfilment of his boast made in the Tower of Bronghty Borthwick had fully examined " all the avenues" to the chambei of Lady Margaret Drummond, preparatory and previous to her abduction. By inquiries cunningly pursued among the domestics within, and by observations made from without, he had discovere(? •lie exact locale of her bed-chamber, and her hour for retiring find now, being aware that the prince was hunting in the How? if Angus, he resolved to make the attempt at once. As yet there was no appearance of the Laird of Largo's dreaded ships returning J but the evening of the appointed day closed HOW BORTHWICK YVLTtZhsV HIS PB0MT9B. 14.1 diirklv and hazily in, and the three vessels of Captain Ilowa/d had been descried by Sir Patrick Gray from the Craig of Broughty, as thej' crept slowly and stealthily in shore. It was one of those evenings when the chill east wind brings a thick haar, as the Scuts name it, from the German Sea, when the moon veils her head in the clouds, and a murk}' gloom envelopes everything. It was one hour past Margaret's usual time for retiring, yet she was not in bed. During the whole of that day and the day preceding, the new joy which had replaced her usually sad and quiet demeanour, the light that sparkled in her calm soft eyes, and the buoyancy of her spirits, were remarked by her sisters ,• but they knew not that Margaret was happy because her iin portant secret was shared and approved of by her father, who had ridden away to Dunblane, accompanied by Carnock and Balloch, to examine the cathedral registers, and assure himself that nothing was wanting but the Papal dispensation to make all clear, on announcing to Parliament, when it met in the metro- polis, that his daughter was Duchess of Rothesay, and the mother of a little princess who yet might wear that crown of thorns which was the inheritance of the Stuarts. The fact of a priest and bishop being C(:gnizant of a marriage within the degrees forbidden by the church, affords a strong proof that the corruption and negle(t by which that church was crumbling down in Scotland were oeginning a hundred j^ears before the Eeibrmation was achieved by Knux and his followers. Margaret was happy, too, because she would soon be able to impart to her dear sisters, whom she loved so tenderly, the perilous secret, which she was ever upbraiding herself for having withheld from them so long; and she imagined how great would be the astonishment of Euphemia and Sybilla when her baby would be shown to them, and the joy of little Lizzie and Beatie finding themselves aunts to a real live princess. Wearied with long surmises and thoughtful reveries, and wiih fondling her pretty little Margaret — for it had been named alter herself and the queen-mother — and with hushing those lieb!)* cries which as yet had never gone beyond the thick stone walls of the tapestried room, nor been heard by ai^y one save her faithful old nmse and constant attendant, the beautiful youu'^ duchess had fallen asleep on her bed, partly undressed, and with the babe nestling in her bosom. On the inside her door wa« secured by those complicated bolts of wood and iron with which all internal doors were then fastened in cid Scottish houses, but her window, which was in the round-tower at the street-oorner iiill appears never to have possessed a grating- H2 THE YELLOW FRIGATE. Twelve tolled in the tower of the " Blessed Virgln-in-the- telds." The mist was thicker, and the night darker than ever. Margaret did not hear the sound of feet in the narrow street lelow, for the lurkers there trod softly ; neither did she hear their voices, for they spoke in whispers; but there, masked, muffled, and disguised as peasants, in broad round bonnets, frieze gaberdines, and deerskin boots, were the governors ol Stirling andBroughty, with Sir Hew Borthwick; other followers they had none, for this expedition was so desperate and daring that they could trust none, even from among the many well- chosen ruffians with whom the two chief traitors had garrisoned the royal castles committed to their care. Margaret did not hear the jarring of two long lances, tied together, against the panes of glass, as by this means they affix«i the iron hooks of a rope ladder to the stone mouldings of the tower window-sole, and then held it firm and steadily at the foot, while Borthwick clambered to the casement, which (although it vfas twenty-five feet from the ground) he reached with ease, and raising the sash entered softly. He then stood within the apartment, with two naked poniards in his belt, for defence, in case of surprise or attack. All appeared just as we have described it before — the rich little couch, the carved prie-Dieu, the Venetian mirror, with its bottles of rose-water, pots of essence and other appurtenances, and the thick dark tapestry. The wax tapers in the silver girandoles on the dressing-table were dimJy burning and flicker- ing, for the wicks were long, and snuffers were iwt invented until the epoch of James IV. Margaret lay on her couch, fast asleep, with one white arm extended on her pillow, and the other round her infant, whose little head reposed on a luxuriant mass of her thick brown hair, which had escaped from that golden net or caul, then worn bj the ladies of the court, and was streaming over her pillow. The ribbon pomts of her long boddice were partly untied, and on the dressing-table lay a multitude of those skewers of gold and silver tags and clasps which noble dames then used, before the simple invention of the j*7m, which was first adopted by Catharine Howard, an English queen. The rosy and dimpled hands of tlie infant, like its round and sleeping face, were nestling in the bosom of its young and delicate mother. It was a touching picture of perfect innocence and love re- Eosing together ; but it affected not the sensual and cowardly eart of the ignoble Borthwick, or of Sir Patrick Gray, whose biack head, through the mask of which his fierce and siniste! eyes, that gleam.ed like two evil stars. n>ia:ht have been see* HOW BORTHWrCK FrLFILT-^D rilS l-KOiTTSF. \«ll peering over the wiiulow-sole into the chamber of the sleeping girl. "Somethin£^ that glittered in the mouth of this baronial bravo, a nearer inspection would have shown to be a daj^ger, which he held between his teeth. " Well, 'pon my soul, the prince's taste is not bad!" grnmblei the other ruffian (who was flushed with wine), as he contemplateq the beautiful girl, whose soft and regular breathing was the only sound that broke the silence of the sanctuary on which he was intruding his unhallowed presence. " A baby, too ! Oho ! now, whose brat may this be ?" Margaret turned her noble head, parted her tine lips, and smiled tenderly in her sleep. Borthwick thought she was about to waken, and shrunk irre- solutely back ; but the dreams of such innocence as hers are ever pleasing and gentle, so the young girl still slept on. " Donnart fool ! why dost thou taiTy ?" asked Gray, in a hoarse whisper. " Be quick !" His voice half wakened Margaret, and she moved her head a^in, and a sigh escaped her lips. Borthwick drew from his breast one of those large and gaudy Dutch cotton handkerchiefs which were then common in Scot- land, and with brutal energy tied it completely over the head of Alargaret, and, tightening it across her mouth, muffled and stifled any cry she might have uttered ; but the slightest sound was impossible, for sudden terror deprived her of all power of thought or action: He then raised her in his powerful anus, even as he would have done the wakened infant, which now began to raise its plaintive little voice, and which be shook roughly off", as it grasped its mother's thick soft hair. He bore her to the window, and thrust her through it, upon the right arm of Sir Patrick Gray, who grasped with his left hand ihe rope ladder (which was firmly secured below by Sir James Shaw), and which he descended in safety to the ground. Borthwick sprang after them, but as Shaw lent his assistance to bear off Margaret, the light ladder swayed about in the wind, which dashed the growling and enraged conspirator against the roiigh wall like a plummet ; by this means it snapped, and he fell heavily to the ground, but he hurried after the two barons, who were bearing Margaret down to the beach, which was thee within less than a pistol-shot of the house. As she had now freed her head from the muffler, she uttered a succession of shrill and piercing cries j but none heard or attended to them, for the stillness and darkness of midnight rested on the mist- shrouded town and river, in that "good old time," when th« countiy-houses of ihe Scottish gentry were manned and THE YELLOW FRIGATE. oated garrisons, or towers that were entered at an itpper storj by ladders, which the careful inmates drew up after them ; when their towns had walls with barrier-portes, and their streets had neither lights nor pavements, but when every window was grated, and every close and w^nd secured by a massive gate; when people carried lanterns at night, and every one went armed to the teeth, as a security against every one else — the clash of swords or the cries of fear and danger excited but little interest. Thus, without suffering the least interruption, the knightly ruffians and their accoin})lice reached the beach, where, within a bowshot of the chapel of St. I»Iicholas, Captain Edmund Howard, with a well-armed boat's-crew of picked English seamen, awaited them ill the yawl of the Royal Harry. " Do not be alarmed, fair lady," said he. as Margaret was borne over the chafing surf, and placed in the stern-sheets of the boat by a man who grasped her with the tenacity of a vice, 4nd who whispered huskily and impiously in her ear. " Be not afraid of me, lady, for I am innocent as the Paschai Lamb, and as gentle to boot." " By that blessed name," she implored, " I conjure you to tell me the meaning of this ? and who you are " " I am Sir Hew Borthwick, knight of an unfortunate ilk, but your most devoted servitor, lady." " 0, heavenly mercy !" she murmured, on hearing that terrible name, and believing that all her old forebodings were about to be realized, immediately fainted, or became powerless, and had no longer any capability of coherence in speech or thought. " Devil be thanked — now we shall have no more trouble with her," said Borthwick, as Captain Howard kindly spread his own velvet mantle over her. " Poor little thing," said he; " she has fallen among evil hands ; but, thank heaven, this dog's duty will soon be over. To-night she will swing in her hammock, aboard the Royal Harry." " And to-morrow may mingle har tears with the waters that bear her <;o English Harry's prison," added Sir James Shaw, laughing. " Hold water a moment, my lads," said the EnglLsh captain, as he Hung a purse to Borthwick, who caught it as a hungry dog does a bone. " Master Hew, this is the last largess of King Henry's I hope you will ever receive from my hand." " Thank you, Captain HowaA'd — life is a race, and money thd Drize. In this world we always scorn honest poverty and worship tjilded crime." HOW BORTHWICK PrLFILLKO UI9 PHOMINE. 148 •* Philosophy in a cur's throat," muttered Howard. " Adieu, gretitlomen; when next I unfurl St. George's cross in these waters, I hope to do it in fair daylight, when bringing to your shores a bright-eyed English queen. And now give way, my hearties," he added, as the oars were dipped into the water, and the boat was slewed round — " give way for life !" " Or death," said Borthwick, with a chuckling laugh, as he concealed the heavy purse in his broad leathern girdle. " Fai^ well, sirs." " Farewell," cried Howard, with one hand grasping the tiller and the other placed at the side of his mouth to convey the sound — " and may the gi-eat devil go with you for a rascally Scots pirate and ground shark." IMargaret lay in a death-like faint, and this gallant English gentleman, while commiserating her fate and cursing the secret duty on which his subtle king had sent him, still urged his men to give way, and at every stroke their fourteen oars almost iifted the light boat out of the water. Howard raised the mantle repeatedly from the pale face of his prisoner, and the soft beauty of her features served every moment to increase the disgust he felt for himself and his Scottish colleagues. The tide was ebbing fast, and as the river was running like a millrace, they soon reached the Boyal Harry, which, with her consorts, was abreast of Broughty Castle, laying to, with her fore and mizen jards aback; but it was not until she was placed on one of the cushioned lockers of the great cabin, where proper restoratives were kindly and judiciously applied by two pretty young female attendants whom Howard had brought for her from London, that poor Margaret began to recover from her first shock of terror, and to become aware of where she was. With the wind right ahead, the Sarry began to beat out of the naiTOw channel, on each side of which are broad and dan- gerous sandbanks, which then were alike destitute^ of lights and buoys; but a quartei-m aster was in the ibre-ehaiDS, constantly heaving the lead. The night was misty, for a thick eastern haar yet floated on the bosom of the sea." The moon, now full- orbed and brilliant, was shining, like a lamp-globe of obscured glass, shorn of its beams, which lent a palpable whiteness to the mist they could not pierce. As the wind freshened a little and made gaps through the fogbank, the moonlight played along the tvaves, which followed each other in long white lines of glittering foam. The English ships heeled over as the breeze freshened, for they were now alwayi close-hauled. The stateb^ Harry rode grace- K 14^ THE YELLOW FBIGATE- fully over each long rolling swell that curled under her prow; but Howard thanked his good angel when he was clear oF tha^ dangerous estuary, and when his next larboard tack enabled hiuj to run far beyond the shoals of the Buddon-ness. At times the mist was so dense that the two consorts of the Marry could not discern her top-light ; the watch rang the ship's bell every ten minutes, and they responded. This monotonous ringing continued for nearly two hours, when suddenly the watch of the leading English ship was startled by the report of a heavy culverin, apparently only a few fathoms distant from their weatherbow, or so close that the red flash was seen through the white and moonlit haze. All hands were piped, and with alacrity the seamen stood to their quarters, but in considerable excitement, for Andrew Wood wa? murmured along the decks as the ports were opened and the loaded guns run out, while Howard hurried Margaret Drummond to a place of safety below the water-line. But in 'pcordance with King Henry's express orders, he was resolved to avoid hostilities if possible, and if the stranger should prove to be the famous Scottish admiral, to deceive him by ans\vering hia hail in French. CHAPTER XX. WOOD MEETS HOWARD. * What though our hands be weaker now Than they were wont to be, When boldly forth our fathers sailed. And conquered Normandie? We still may sing their deeds of fame, In thrilling harmony; They won for us a gallant name, Ruling the stormy sea I" — Ballad. Aftee running along the coast of Angus so far as that remark- able promontory named the Red Head, which rises to the height of two hundred and fifty feet on the southern shore of Lunaii Bay, Sir Andrew Wood had put his ships about, and under easy sail bore back towards Dundee, witliout seeing any trace of the strangers he was in search of. From the tops the light had been discerned in the Biff O of Arbroath, as the seamen named the great circular window of St. Thomas of Aberbrothwick, which was then illuminated at night by the charitable Benedictines of that magnificent abbey ; and it formed a glorious landmark for those who traversed the German Sea, from whence it could Ihj Been shining afar oflf, likft « vast moon resting on the sloDioa Tomontory WOOD MEETS HOWARD. H7 About midnight the vessels were creeping along the pandy shore *f Barrie, where the waves rolled far upon the level beach, and thafed against the heaps or tumuli which cover the graves of the Danish invaders, when Master Wad, who had the middle watch, pricked up his cars on hearing the distant sound of a ship's bell. The silver mist was still so thick, that when viewed from the stern, the ship's head, and even the mizeu crosstrees, were involved m obscurity' . "I hear a sound," said Falconer, who, lover-like, was still loitering on deck, and restlessly musing over the hazle-e3'ed Sybilla, from whom he calculated he was now only about eight or ten miles distant. " Willie," said he, " tliat sound is like the ringing of metal, or is it the deid bell in my ear?" " I would hope not," replied the gunner ; " for if it is sae, some 0* us will be slipping our cables before day-dawn." " There it is again — no imaginary, but a solid bell, and it rings in the mist. Can it be the Inchcape ?" " Nay, Sir David ; the moon is in the west, and the tide is ebbing, so by the soundings we should ha'e the Budd(jn-nea8 about tliree miles off on our lee-bow." "And the Inchcape Bell ?" "About eight miles to windward. Ewhow, sirs! theie are the top-gallant sails of a large vessel glinting in the moonlight and aboon the mist like snaw on a hill-top ; a pint o' sack to & pint 0* bilge, it is the English captain ! Call up Robert Barton — pass the word to the admiral 1" The arquebussier who stood on guard near Jacob's ladder passed this intelligence through the door of the poop, and in a moment Captain Barton and Sir Andrew came on deck. As all sailors do, they first glanced at the compass, and then cast theii gaze aloft, to see that all the sails were full." " How does she boar ?" asked Sir Andrew. *' About a mile off, on the lee-bow, between us and the Gaa lands." " Gadzooks ! her diaught of water must be small." " There she's noo, sir, wi' top-gallants set aloft, for the wind it but light." As the gunner spoke the canvas of the strange vessel was seen to glitter like snow in the moonlight ; but for a moment only, as she was again immediately shrouded in mist. " What dost thou take her to be, Robbie ?" asked the admiral- *' English," replied Barton, tightening his waist-belt, "English by the rake of her masts and fashion oi her top hamper." "Art sure?" " I got a full glisk of her just now, as she shot out of one fc^- bank into another. Hark 1 there goes her bell again !" 148 rHE YELLOW FBU5ATE. " i^Iaster Wad, got ready a gun thero, for on tl>e next tac^'tc we may fall aboard of her ; I do think she is ^]nglis!i, though there was no red-cross on her fore-topsail But clear away for battle. Barton, for if it is the gallant Howard, we shall avenge thy father's fall, and make such a din on these waters as will scare all the fish between Fifeness and tht* Carlinheugh. Take in sail, Hnd beat to quarters " The kettle-drum rolled and the trumpet was blown: in three minutes the ports were opened ; the sails reduced by the watch ; the magazine opened bj^ the gunner ; the arquebussiers of Fal- coner manned the tops and poop, and flinging aside their bonnets and gaberdines, five hundred seamen, grasping the rammers and sponges, the linstocks and tackle of the cannon, stood in fighting order, while Master Wad fired a gun, and ran a red lantern up to the mast-head, to let Sir Alexander Mathieson, who was half a mile astern, know that the admii'al had cleared for action. " Sail ho ! — here she comes again !" cried a hundred voices, as the gigantic outline of the English ship, looming like a gi-eat cloud through the mist, approached on the opposite tack, and within pistol-shot. Both shortened sail by backing their fore md mizen-yards. By the line of lights that glittered along the stranger's deck, her crew were evidently standing by their guns, and all equally prepared. Trumpet in hand, Barton, whose heart was brimming with fiery joy, sprang into the main -chains on the starboard side. " Silence fore and aft !" cried he ; but the warning was need- less, for then one might have heard a pin fall on board the Yellow Frigate. " Ho— the ship ahoy !" ** Hola-ho !" replied a voice from the waist ol the strangfer. ** French!" muttered Barton, in a tone of disappointment; *• what ship is that?" *' The Sainte Denis, caravel of Monseigneur the admiral of the galleys to his Majesty Charles the Affable." "This is the Yellow Caravel of his Majesty the King of the Scots. We knew not that the admiral of France was in these eeas. "We are in pursuit of three English ships commanded by Captain Edmund Howard, brother of the lord admiral of England.** " So are we, and would give all the teeth in our heads to over- haul them. Sir Andrew Wood craves leave to pay his respects ko Monseigneur d'Esquerdes, admiral of the galleys." " Monseigneur i^e Laird of Largo is welcome." Archy, the old boatswain, was piping away the crew of the Varge, when the pretended 5'renchman. having no desire for such WOCD MEETS HOWABD. 149 a visit, hauled his wiiid, braced up his yards, and ptood ri^ht away into the mist, with his topsails glittering, after which Sir Andrew Wood saw no more of him. The ports were lowered, the culvorins secured; Master Wad locked the magazine with a sigh, as he reflected there was no chance of fighting ; the ham- mocks were piped down ; the yards were squared ; and with no ordinary feelings of disappointment, the crew of the Yellow Frigate found themselves once more silently passing the Tower of Broughty towards their former anchorage ofl' the craig of St, Nicholas. Intent only on reaching England without perilling the crooked measures of his sovereign. Captain Howard was glad that he had succeeded in " throwing dust," as he said, " into the eyea of old Andrew Wood," and when sorely importuned b}' his officers and crew to fight the Scots, is reported to have lost patience, and said, " God confound ye, fellows ; dost think I will can^e out my coffin to please you r" But fate, however, and the waves and wind were against him ; for before daybreak the mist was swept from the German Sea by a sudden and heavy gale from the south-east, which nearly threw the Sarry on her beam-ends, and compelled her to run before it, in the very opposite du-ection from that which Howard wished to pursue. He was driven along the dangerous coast of Kincardine ; and before the second day's sunset, instead of making the coast of England, as they had hoped, the crews of the three English ships were straining every nerve, and using all the art of sea- manship to weather the dangerous Cape of Buchan-ness, nearly ninety miles northward from the mouth of the Tay. How it fared with Margaret Drummond in the meax while will be related in another chapter of this history. CHAPTER XXI. THE PEICE OF THBEB TENEMENTS, " A letter forged ! St. Jude to speed ! Did ever knight so foul a deec' ?"— 3/«? mjo^^ A FEW pa^es back, we left the Duke of Rothesay, the Earl o< Angus, and Lord Drummond seeking the presence of James III., ill in a high state of excitement. They soon reached the hall (already described) where, during his annual visits to Dundee, the king received petitions and heard complaints, or held council, with what success we have already shown. It was, as usual, crowded by courtiers and iwbles, with their armed tbUower* l60 THE YELLOW FBIGATE. and dependents ; and Ilailes, Home, the Forester of Drum, th« Steward of Menteith, and other discontented personages, weite grouping and whispering together. The king was seated in the great chair, under the purple cloth of estate; near him stood John Abercrombie, the learned Bene- dictine, and they were examining with deep interest Lorenzo della Magna's edition of Dante's Inferno, which had been printed at Florence seven years before, and had thirteen illustrations engraved by Baldini. This had been a gift to James from the Papal ambassador, the Bishop of Imola; and the almost un- lettered Angus gazed with wonder and pity at a king whose mind was so narrow that he could feel interested in a trifle so pitifiil as a printed book ! The usually stern expression which clouded the dark face o5 this great lord of Galloway was partly concealed by the visor oi his helmet; but the excitement under which he laboured was evident, for he frequently approached James, and withdrew again, as if irresolute how to broach the subject that oppressed hiniu Lord Drummond and Rothesay were equally excited, and their emotion was balm to the gloomy soul of Sir Patrick Gray who accompanied them, and who, with his pale thin lips and fine but sharp teeth, his small wiry hands and cold delusive smile, seemed to be the evil genius of them all. " My Lord Angus," said the Constable of Dundee, " dost think this king of ours will ever prefer the mai'shalling of hosts to the making of books and ballads — the clank of armour to rustle of silk — or the jangle of spurs to the patter of cork-heeled shoon ?" " We shall soon see," replied Angus, hoarsely, through his clenched teeth, as he dai-ted a savage glance at the Duke of Montrose. " It would seem not," added the wai-like Constable, who, when a mere youth, had slain the aged Earl of Crawford at the battle of Arbroath; " he is overmuch of a clerk and carpet squire for me." Neither Angus nor thig Lord of Dudhope had much love for each other, but like many of the hostile nobles, they cordially agreed in keeping an iron hand over the poor king, and in resolving to defeat his projects, whether wise or unwise, and to destroy every favourite chosen from " the herd," as they desig- nated the people, from whom unfortunately the favourites of ihl Stuart princes were generally chosen. " Fool-king !" growled the furious earl, " while thou toyeJi with some wi-etched ballad-book, I hold in my hand that whicli shall startle all Scotland like the note of the last trumpet." " Yea/' responded the Constable of Dundee. " these balladee* THE PRICE OF TflREE TENEMENTS. 151 and book-makers remind me of so many birds of prey hovering about the throne." " These carles in ii'on seem like so many crocodiles wat€hing the poor king," whispered the Benedictine at the same moment to William Dunbar, the sweet author of the Thrissel and the Rois, for there was then a feud between the men of the sword and the men of letters, as it was not an age when they could entertain a high veneration for each other. Eothesay's excitement at last became insupportable. Pale Rnd trembling with grief and anger, he approached the royal chair, and stretching out his hands, with his fine eyes full of fire, tears, and upbraiding, said to the king, — " Fatner, is it thus thou hast deceived me !" " Deceived thee — in what ?" asked the astonished monarch. " Yea, deceived me. The Lord Drummond told thee how I loved and was wedded to his daughter ; and you gave me hopes of clemency and forgiveness, while knowing that overnight she had been most cruelly and foully abducted — torn away from me —from me who loved her better than my own soul !" It is impossible to describe the astonishment that was visible in the faces of all who heard this startling avowal and charge; but in no face was it more strongly impressed than the king's, and his silence appeared to Rothesay the dumb confusion of discovered guilt. " Father and king," said he, firmly, " where is my wife, the Duchess of Rothesay ?" " Rash monarch!" added Lord Drummond, with a hand on his sword, " I, too, demand, where is my daughter ?" " By my soul as a man — by my honour as a king, I know not !" replied James, with dignity and indignation, as he rose from his chair, and threw the poems of Dante on the dais. " Restore her to me !" continued the young prince, frantically, tvhile his dark eyes sparkled through theii* tears ; ** restore bar, or in thi-ee days I will set all Scotland on fiie !" '* 'Tis a wile of the English faction to fui-ther their Tudor taarriage," said Lord Lindesay, an opinion in which many nobles concurred ; " beware, my lord, beware of what you say and do I" Angus stood silent and confounded by this double revelation. " Tis enough to weep once over those we love," said Lord Drummond ; " I have wept for my lost daughter, for she was my dearest and best beloved, the most gentle and bonnie of five ; and now I shall think of vengeance ! None but thee, James Stuart, could have an interest in removing or destroying her, so restore her, dead or alive, or vengeance will be the occupation of my life ! The honour of a Scottish noble cannot be trilled witL, 153 THE YELLOW FJBIGATIS. even by a Scottish king ; so beware that, when plunging into the abyss of rebellion I do not drag thy throne down with me 1" Stunned by this terrible and, at such a time, most dangerous accusation — dangerous, the more so that it came from the lips of his own son, the good and amiable king gazed irresolute!} among the nobles, and read a threatening expression in all theii clouded brows ; even Montrose, his most trusty councillor, cast down his eyes in doubt, and now the stern face cf Angus, who gtood closa by him, leaning on his sword, rivettcd his wondei \ng gaze. "My lord earl," said he, "what is the ma Iter P Why approach me in harness, and almost in a close helmet P Say, dost thou believe me capable of a deed so vile ?" There was a solemn silence, for it was known that the majority would adopt the opinion of this potent military chief. " I do deem thee guilty of this most cruel abduction ; yea, and of worse !" replied the stem Earl, as he threw up the barred umbriere of his black helmet with a jerk, and drew from his gauntlet a letter which was folded with care and tied by a ribbon, sealed with purple wax, and inscribed " secret, with care." " And to prove how far the bitter memory of our raid at Lauder, and the love of the faithless and vile will carry thee, I will take the liberty of reading to this most illustrious audience a letter which is addressed to his Grace of Montrose, but which, by a blunder- ing pikeman, was brought to my secretary, who made himself master of its contents. My lords, these are terrible! Strict honoiu' required that it should have been forwarded to the Earl of Crawford — pardon me — (with a sneer) I mean your Grace of Montrose ; but the common safety of the First Estate required its immediate publicity." The stealthy eyes of Sir James Shaw sought those of Gray, and an icy smile was exchanged ; but to others, their faces seemed imperturbable. A commotion immediately pervafled the hitherto still assembly ; and the old Duke of Montrose, with his sword half-drawn, was approaching Angus, in great wrath, when his arm was grasped by the king. Seeing a storm impending, several of the peers, the Sieur de Coucressault, the Loid Lindesay, and Ramsay, Lord Bothwell, drew near the throne, the malcontent nobles drew near Angus, while the pale and irresolute Rothesay stood like a statue between them. " You know this signature, my lords," said Angus, displaying the letter. " It is the king's," said Shaw, almost the only man among them who could read or write with ease. " And this seal, hearing two rocks in the centre of a stormy tea, with the motto * DubaboP* " THE PHirE OF TnCKK TENFMENTS. IM " The kind's private si^iet," said Sir Patrick Gray ; " we all iaow that as well as our owii faces." " Kead, read, my lord," cried twenty voices ; and with some trouble, though tlie handwriting of this document of Borthwick, which is now before us, is very plain, Angus sternly and em- jihatically read as follows : — "To his Grace the Duke of Montrose and Earl of Crawforc., jar trusty and heartily beloved friend, Lord Great Ch^n.berlain, &c., bt this delivered. " Montrose, we greet you well. The help of the same blesseQ God, who has delivered us from many perils, will, I doubt not, with the assistance and advice of such powerful and zealous subjects as your grace, soon free our unhappy realm and oppressed people from that cruel nobility who tyrannize over all I have now all prepared for the great banquet to be given in the Castle of Edinburgh, where, when Angus, Hailes, Home, and all that party, are birling the wine pot, we shall show them the Black Bull's Head. Fail not to come with all your most trusty adherents — men who will close their hearts to every emotion of pity and remorse, and who will have no thought but the wish to save Scotland by extirpating a traitorous nobility, who in all ages have been ready to sell their souls and bodies to the English kings for gold. With the fathers, all the sons above the age of twelve years should also be invited, and such I think was the suggestion of your grace at our last meeting. It now remains but to fix the time of this auspicious banquet. What say you to the feast of St. Monina — that evil day of July ? From our Castle of Stirling, the 7th day of May, 1488. " James Rex." Exclamations of anger and astonishment burst from every lip, for this letter contained eome artful hits, such as the Bull's Head, which was the signal for the murder of the Earl of Douglas in 1440, and Monina's day, which was the anniversary of the raid it Lauder. The king was fearfully pale. " My Lord Earl of Angus," said he, controlling his right€om indignation, ** on your allegiance as a subject, I command you to •nrrender up this tissue of falsehood — this infamous forgery." "Nay," replied the earl, with a grim smile; "if your Majesty wishes it consigned to the custody of the Lord Clerk E-egister, let him and other parasites seek it at my Castle of Thrieve, in Galloway, where, by the cannon's mouth, it shall be faithfully delivered to them or their messergers." ** Bewaie, Archibald Douglas, lest ye overtftsk riy patience." 154 THE YELLOW FEIGATE. " Beware, James Stuart, for thou playest a perilous game! Ss this precious banquet is to be on Mouina's day in July. I tru&* that party will all come with their best swords by their sides." " The anniversary of the raid of Lauder," said the governor v Brougnty; " an ominous day." *' This is infamous — this is intolerable !" exclaimed the wiiit*> haii-ed Duke of Montrose, unsheathing his sword. *' So say I," added Angus, with a bitter laugh. " All who dare aver that the king wrote such a letter to me,** continued Montrose, " or that such was the intention of our state banquet at Edinburgh, lie foully in their throats, and are falsft cravens ! Let us betake us to our swords at once, for the sword alone can wrest a charter for the people's liberty from this subtle and tyrannical nobility." " Duke," said James, " liberty is the inherent right of the people. They give us prerogatives, but it is not in the power of princes to give a people what they possess by right of inheritance —liberty." " Montrose, thou sayest well," said Angus, who did not under- stand the hint conveyed by the king's reply; "the sword, the sword, so be it then," he added, wdth lofty pride and stem joy; " and with God's blessing, let the battle field decide whether this kingdom of Scotland shall be governed b}'^ its hereditary peers or the parasites of a king. James II. slew two earls of my house; one was murdered in the castle of Edinburgh in the midst of a friendly feast, another was stabbed to the heart by a dagger in the Castle of Stirling — stabbed by the royal hand, and then was flung over the chamber window upon the rocks below, like the body of a slaughtered hound rather than the corse of William Douglas, Duke of Touraine, and Lord Supreme of Galloway. I shall be waiy how your father's son adds a third to the number." Angus glared with hatred at Montrose, who was the first subject in Scotland after the little Duke of Ross, being the first of the nobility who attained a ducal coronet, a distinction quite sufficient to gain him the enmity of all the earls of the Douglas faction. " Oh, Angus," said James, reproachfully, ** thou art a fierce subject, in whose lawless heart uncurbed ambition rages like 2 devouring flame ; but wouldst thou have thy king to stoop to thee?" "And why not, if that king hath erred P" asked the earl, bluntly. "God be the judge between us," said James, raising upwardi ais hands and tearful eyes. " Decide, decide," said Angus, whose angei* was increa-iing THK PKICB OF THREE TENEMENT*. mfiJB every moment; " banisbment to such evil councillors as Mullt^ose^ and death to all ignoble favourites — or death to the peers of Scotland ; and here, at the foot of that thi'one for which I and ten generations of my house have often shed the Douglas blood, I throw down the gage of ba'ttle !" With these daring words Angus drew the steel gauntlet from his right hand, hurled it at the foot of the throne, and withdrew, followed by Drummond, Hailes, Home, Gray, and others, who led the bewildered Duke of Rothesay away with them. The voung Lord Lindesay, and his father the venerable Montrose, both sprang forward to pick the gauntlet up, but the latter was successful, and both these loyal nobles, with several others who loved and pitied the king, followed him to his private cabinet, to which he immediately withdrew. "Said I not that I would put all Scotland in a flame?" whispered Borthwick to Sauchie, as he put his foot in the stirrup to mount at the palace gate. " Yea, and verily thou shalt have, as I promised, three of my best tenements in Stirling, by deed of a notary's hand," replied the Laird of Sauchie. Abercrombie the Benedictine, "William Dunbar the poet, and other literary men, were left behind in the hall. The angry altercation had somewhat scared them, but they could not resist an expression of pleasure at the prospect of their enemies, the military nobles, confronting each other on the field of battle. " I would not, for a king's ransom, be in the boots of him who penned this specious forgery !" said the chief of our ancient poets, m his East Lothian patois. "Ay, Willie Dunbar," said Father Abercrombie, "with the nobles it proposed to slay their eldest sons — no bad hint." " Why, this would make our poor king a heathen, like the Jews of old," replied Dunbar. " Yea, and it reminds me of a passage in the first act of the Mlectra of Sophocles." " You remember of the pagan emperor, who amused himself catching flies ?" said the translator of Sallust, laughing. " I warrant you. Brother Barclay," replied Dunbar, " the kmg will find these carles increase like unto so many wasps. But hint not that, even in jest, our blessed king conceived a thought so vile as that banquet of blood." " Alas !" said the young poet Henrison, sorrowfully , " who among us can foresee the end of all this ? Life id unstable ai sunshine on the water.'* " Yes, my good master of arts," rejjlied Barclay, " it is evt« our friend Dunbar sings in his sweet Laiuent — *A6 TH« YELLOW PEIGATH. •* Oar pleasannce here is all vane glCK/y This false world is but transitory; The flesh is brnckle, the fiend is slefr-« Timor mortis conturbat me !" Dunbar gave a gratified smile at this quotati4 and bowed to the learned Benedictine. At that moment the chitter of hoofs drew them all to the north windows of the hall, 3,nd they beheld the noisy train of Angus gallop along the street with lances uplifted, and his banner with the red heart dis- pla3'ed. The eai*l, with the Duke of Rothesay and others, were with them, and save the prince, all were brandishing their drawn swords, and crying, '* A Douglas ! a Home ! to arms ! Remember the raid of Lauder !" To these tumultuous cries many added others, snch as, " No English alliance, no invasion of Bretagne ! Remember Andrew Barton !" And making a terrible din as they poured along the narrow street, Angus, with five hundred armed men, issued from the western gate of Dundee, and, conveying the young heir of Scotland with him, took the road direct for the royal burgh oi Stirling, CHAPTER XXII. THE SILKEN COED. * Faintingly her head she bendeth, And on my dim and dewy eyes, A kiss her purple mouth bestowetli. Sweet repayment, while she sighs— * Ah, that fondling in thine arms, Thus may I ever live and die !' She ceased, and the heart of Euphrasie In the joy forgot the sigh." We must go a little back in this, our history, to inform th reader how the daughters of Lord Drummond received his pro* position of making one of them Lady of Home and the other Lady of Hailes. He did not find them quite so pliant or ac- ^iescent as the noble lords for whom he destined them. In the morning, before Margaret's abduction had been dis- covered, and when the cold roasted beef, the venison pies, and tankards of hot spiced ale, on which the good folks of those days breakfasted, were awaiting them in the dining-hall, he sent impatiently for Euphemia and Sybilla, and fmnounced his vievit regarding them, sim])ly saying that the safety of the state in a struggle which all men saw approaching required many bonds 0\ union amonj; the nobles, and that the bends of matrimony beinff THE SILKEN COED. 157 the surest, it was requisite, by an alliance with these two military chiefs, to strengthen his house, as he was now well up in years, had many enemies, and so forth. I'oor Sybilla, whose lover had avowed his passion to none save herself, and whose claim upon her love and honour were known to her only, received this startling; announcement with terror and dismay; i'or it crushed and bewildered her like a sentence of death." But Eupheniia, who was proud and fiery, and the day of whose marriage with Robert Barton had been already named, and was now only postponed in consequence of his father's death, received the proposal with astonishment, and with the indigna- tion it merited. " My father, this cannot be !" she exclaimed, setting her prettj foot firmly on the floor, and neiTOUsly adjusting her satin hood, " you kno^w that I am solemnly, and by a ritual of our Church, promised and affianced to Kobert Barton. My uncle, the Dean y\' Dunblane, heard my trothpUght at the altar, when I received this betrothal ring; our promise of marriage is sanctioned and blessed by the Church, and can no more be broken than the ban' of marriage itself, without committing sacrilege and sin." The old lord fidgetted about, for he felt the truth of what she said. , " Oh think again, dearest father, of what you requue of us ? added Euphemia. " \]&—us / I address myself to you, in the first place, Dame Euphemia. The noble lovers I provide for you are not to be trifled with, and will assuredly brush fi-om their path the son of Barton the merchant " "Sir Andrew Barton, the knight and admiral," intei-posed Euphemia — " Barton the Laird of^Bamton and Almondell !" " Barton umquhile skipper and trader," said the father, angrily, as he tore open the ribbons of his doublet and walked hurriedly up and down the oak floor, stamping hard on his red-heeled boots at every turn. " Dear lather," urged the plaintive voice of Sybilla, "bethink diee what our deai-est mother would have thought of such a prO" fiosition." " Just what she thought when such a proposition was made t< her thirty years ago— God assoilize her ! She was a good and loving wife to me, and yet — dost know how we came to be espoused P" " Because vou loved her, I would hope." " Loved— ^ddlestick ! not a bit, at that titne at least. Wheu I was a beardless young callant, the Mun-ayu of Athole raarcnea nto Strathearn, and came dow?i bj ^he woods of Ocht«rtyn 168 THE TELLovV FlciGfATE. andGjmrie, with pipes playing and banners displayed, to harry the lands of Drummond of Mewie, and levy at the sword's point the tiends of the kirk of St. Ronan at Monzievaird. Mewie was slain by ihem — shot dead by three arrows. This waa not to be borne! I marched with all the stout lads of the Btewartry against the Murrays, but they were too strong for me then, an(^ I was obliged to gang warily until Lord Crawford offered to lend me five hundred lances from Angus. We soon cleared all Upper Strathearn of the IMurrays, and drove them through Glentun-it and Glenlednock. We besieged them in St. Ronan's kirk — fired its heather roof, burned one half of them alive, and clayniored the rest. In gratitude to Crawford, who had more daughters than he knew what to do with, I married Elizabeth Lindesay, and a good wife and tnie she was to me — although at first she made many a moan, for she had been affi- anced to Drummond of Mewie ; but who cares for woman's tears when trumpets are blown ?" " Father," said Euphemia, " thou forgettest that a woman has but one heart to lose — one heart to bestow." " 'Sdeath ! I shall lose m}' patience, and bestow my curse on some of ye. Some harper or balladeer, some tramper or Egyp- tian hath put this stuff into 3'^our head. Whoever heard of hearts or lovers standing in the way of great lords — of castles and broad acres — of bands of mail-clad men ? Stuff, I tell thee, Effie ; Hailes and Home will both be made earls, and you shall both become eountesses. I swear by every altar in yonder kirk of Mary, j^ou shall ! We have had a queen and a Lady of the Isles in the family, but never a countess yet !" " Father, this cruelty and sacrilege will break my heart — it will kill me." " I never heard of a lusty lass like thee being killed by mar- riage yet. Now do not provoke me, for my mind is made up. Come hither, Sybilla ; thou wilt not take a plaguey love-fit to vex thy old father ?" "Alas! father " " What ! 'sdeath ! hast thou no heart either, and wilt thon be- come a contumacious gipsy ?" " Hear me, dear father " " I'll hear nothing but thy promise to be the bride of Hailes, or of Home, I care not which; but one yon shall have, so settle it Detween ye. They are both brave and handsome gallants, with a good retinue at their cruppers. I have no time for more oi this," he continued, buckling on his enormous sword; "or for trwponding to the devil's litanies of such gadabouts as eithef tf ye.** THE SILKEN COBD. 169 The announcement of Lady Margaret's disappearance ^ave a §u(iden change to this extraordinary conversation, and springing at a wrong conclusion, Lord Drummond impetuously rushed away in search of Kothesay, whom, as ah-eady related, he met in St. Clement's W3Tid, from whence they proceeded to the poor king, leaving Sybilla and Euphemia overwhelmed with grief and consternation by this new and sudden calamity ; for no trace of Alargaret could' be found, and the discovery of her poor little babe, concealed in the alcove of the turret, served but to augment their borrow and perplexity. Next morning the anchors of the frigate were barely down before Jamie Gair, who acted as pilot, and others who came off' in the shore-boats, informed those on board of the strange rumours then current in Dundee. One man informed Archy the boat- swain of how the Lady Margaret Drummond had been carried off" by the king's order, and drowned in the ix)ols of Errol ; another told Master Wad how Angus and Di-ummond had quarrelled with the king, and would have slain him but for the timely interven- tion of the French ambassador, the Mareschal de Concressault, and the Lord High Constable ; a hundred other stories, equally absurd and improbable, were heard by other members of the crew ; and the excitement which evidently prevailed ashore, caused some alarm on board of the ships. The admiral doubled the guard of arquebusses on the poop and forecastle, loaded the cannon, moored the ships with a spring upon their cables, ordered that all boats should be kept a bow- shot off*, and desiring the barge to be piped away, hurried ashore with all her crew armed by jacks of mail below their canvas gaberdines. Falconer, Barton, and the admiral were in half armour. The latter hastened to the presence of the afflicted king, whom he found highly excited by his late altercation with Angus and Hothesay; while the two companions — the lover.«>— repaired to the mansion of Stobhall. Borthwick, whom Sir Patrick Gray had desired to act aa a spy opon the inmates of that stately residence from the moment the ships had been seen in the estuary, threw himself, sans leave, upon a coalier's horse, which he found tethered to a ring in St. Clement's Wynd, and galloped to Broughty, where the malcontent noblesse leere assembled iii solemn but somewhat angry conclave ; and there he informed Lord Drummond and his two intended sons- in-law that the young ladies had visitors. Upon this, the trio ibrmed a little plot within their greater conspii-acy, to remove, or fts Lord Drummond said, to brush Barton and Falconer from th^r ^*th for ever, and if possible to entrap the good old admiral, wnt 160 THE Y-KLtOW FRIGATB. get the two king's ships into their own hanris ; for the Yellou Frigate and the 3Iargaret were then the Hower of the Scottish fleet, which, in the iul'ancy of our maritime afi'aiis, mustered onlj a few sail. In that time England had no more; for Henry VII. and Henry VIII., when requiring ships for warlike purposes, seized without ceremony upon the largest merchantmen in their English ports. In 1512 the fleet of James IV. consisted of forty-six sail, and was in no way inferior to the fleets of Henry of England or Don Emanuel, King of Portugal. Borthwick, a wretch whose whole life had been a lie, a cheat, a web of mischief and infamy, informed the three lords that Robert Barton was in the house with Lady Euphemia, and that Sir David Falconer was in the garden with her sister. On this they all rushed to their horses, summoned the J