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 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN 
 
 S^'ol 
 
 L161 — O-1096
 
 THE 
 
 BKAES OF YARRO"W". 
 
 BY 
 
 CHAELES GIBBON, 
 
 AUTHOR OF " ROBIN GRAY," " IN HONOUR BOUND," " FOR THE KING, 
 
 "IN LOVE AND WAR," "QUEEN OF THE MEADOW," 
 
 " WHAT WILL THE WOULD SAT ? " ETC. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 YOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 SAMPSON LOW, MAKSTON, SEARLE & RIVINGTON, 
 CROWN BUILDINGS, 188, FLEET STREET. 
 
 1881. 
 ( The right of translaiion is reserved.)
 
 FEINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, 
 STAJIFOKD STKEET AKD CHAKIKG CKOSS.
 
 SZ.3 
 
 TO 
 
 MY BOYS, 
 
 C. ARCHER, ERNEST, AND HERBERT BLACK GIBBON. 
 
 As my comrades through a period of trial to us all, I wish 
 to link your names with this hook. It is an old-fashioned 
 story of hairbreadth escapes, of mysteries, of hard fc/hting, of 
 onuch suffering and self-sacrifice, of fidelity and treachery — and, 
 in short, of all the customary elements of a melodrama pre- 
 sented under a gauze of history. There are in it sundry 
 historical anachronisms, hut I am not going to point them oid : 
 first, because you ought to be able to discover them yourselves ; 
 and next, because there will he plenty of critics to direct your 
 attention to them. I only hope that you will enjoy the story, 
 and regard it as simply a Romance of the days of old. 
 
 CHAELES GIBBON. 
 
 London, June, 1881.
 
 CONTENTS OF VOL. I. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 I. 
 
 The Eaid of Halstane 
 
 FACE 
 1 
 
 II. 
 
 Out in the Snow 
 
 25 
 
 III. 
 
 A Token from Flodden 
 
 38 
 
 IV. 
 
 The Knight of the Mask 
 
 49 
 
 V. 
 
 The Eevel at Tushielaw ... 
 
 67 
 
 VI. 
 
 The Eight-hand Gauntlet 
 
 82 
 
 VII. 
 
 The Packman and the Friar 
 
 103 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Flying and Seeking 
 
 lf8 
 
 IX. 
 
 A Secret Mission ... 
 
 , 136 
 
 X. 
 
 Something Mysterious ... 
 
 149 
 
 XI. 
 
 In Fortune's Way 
 
 . 173 
 
 XII. 
 
 The Queen's Eide 
 
 187 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Cupid's Perplexities 
 
 . 213 
 
 XIV. 
 
 The Test of Truth 
 
 229 
 
 XV. 
 
 The Mystery of the Abbey Chapel .., 
 
 . 243 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Entombed 
 
 263 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Lost or Saved 
 
 . 278 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 A Singular Wooing 
 
 291
 
 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 CHAPTEK I. 
 
 THE EAID OF HALSTANE. 
 
 " Then till't they gaed wi' heart and hand, 
 The blows fell thick as bickering hail ; 
 And mony a horse ran masterless, 
 
 And mony a comely cheek was pale." 
 
 The Fair Dodhead. 
 
 ** Ding doon Halstane," was the hoarse 
 yell of two hundred voices on the banks 
 of Yarrow. ^^Ding doon Halstane," was 
 echoed along the surrounding hills and 
 through the bossy dells ; and two hundred 
 men rode steadily forward with pulses 
 quickened by the prospect of plunder. 
 
 The keen December wind soughed through 
 the dense forest of Ettrick ; the bare trees 
 i: VOL. I. B
 
 A THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 swayed and crackled and groaned ; tlie 
 snow creaked crisply beneath, the feet of 
 the mosstroopers' horses ; and the Yarrow 
 water with its melancholy murmur flowed 
 onward to the Ettrick through the dull 
 white mist of the morning. 
 
 Four months previously — that is to say, 
 the 18th September, 1513 — the battle of 
 Flodden had been fought and lost to Scot- 
 land ; the rashly chivalrous James IV. had 
 fallen ; his child, not yet two years old, had 
 been declared the fifth King James ; and 
 the Queen Dowager Margaret, sister of the 
 Eighth Henry of England, was regent for 
 the nonce. All Scotland was mourning its 
 beavy losses, and the devil-may-care bor- 
 derers of both nations, who heeded not a 
 bodle which side was uppermost, counted 
 upon a rich harvest, and set to work with 
 a will to gather in their stores from North 
 and South. 
 
 The notable rascal, Adam Scott of Tushie- 
 law, was amongst the first to avail himself 
 of the distracted condition of his own
 
 THE RAID OF HALSTANE. 6 
 
 country. He could not do much business 
 on the opposite ground just at this time, 
 for the army of the poet-soldier, Earl of 
 Surrey, was still unpleasantly near the 
 debatable land. Wherefore, like a wise 
 pilferer, he turned his efforts toward the 
 point where profit was most certain. He 
 had been served with a dish of clean 
 spurs, as an indication that his larder was 
 empty, so he buckled on his armour and 
 laid about him right and left to stock his 
 byre. 
 
 He had been acknowledged King of the 
 Borders, and accordingly he was bound to 
 support his followers, and to entertain his 
 neighbouring chieftains, royally. This he 
 rarely failed to do, for he had a strong 
 hand, a sinewy body, and a sharp wit to 
 plan and to carry the plan generally to a 
 successful issue. 
 
 As the troop rode up the Vale of Yarrow 
 the chief led the way. His muscular frame 
 was covered with a Hght shirt of mail, but, 
 as if to show his hardihood or contempt of
 
 4 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 death, his head was unprotected save by 
 an ordinary Selkirk bonnet. His principal 
 arms were a long sword of more than 
 average weight, and at his saddle-bow a 
 ponderous axe. By his side rode a rubicund- 
 visaged but slim-bodied man, whose dress 
 was as much at odds with his position as 
 his face and body were with each other. 
 The face was that of a jovial liver and good 
 cup companion ; the body might have been 
 that of a half-starved friar. His dress was 
 a mixture of the mosstrooper's and the 
 monk's; light boots, a leather jerkin, and 
 over that a somewhat worn friar's gown and 
 cowl. The cowl, however, was not in use, 
 as the head was covered by a deerskin cap. 
 
 " I would give something to have a grip 
 o' the Hangingshaw ladle at this minute, 
 for I'm as drouthy as a fish on dry land," 
 said he of the cowl, looking thirstily in the 
 direction of Hangingshaw, the home of the 
 Murray s, where every comer was treated 
 with a draught of ale from an enormous 
 drinking-vessel called the ladle.
 
 THE RAID OF HALSTANE. 
 
 ^^ Ye shall have a waft o' the best brew 
 in Halstane before long," responded Scott, 
 laughing hoarsely. 
 
 The countenance of the other assumed a 
 sour expression, and he spoke moodily : 
 
 ^^ Ay, but we'll have to take a long waft 
 of blood first." 
 
 *^ Hey, Mess Simon, do you grow timor- 
 ous ? " 
 
 Mess Simon shrugged his shoulders, 
 and shook the cowl which hung on his 
 back. 
 
 " Not I, so long as there is fair fightings 
 but we are making a raid upon a deserted 
 home, where is only the husbandless dame, 
 her daughter, and some old men who were 
 not worth taking to Flodden." 
 
 '' Well," growled Scott, nettled by the 
 suggestion that he was taking an unfair 
 advantage of the misfortunes of Halstane, 
 *^ they played us foul in hanging Ding- a' - 
 doon's brother, and Spens is our foe to the 
 death." 
 
 ^^ And wow but the leddy's a bonny
 
 6 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 leddy," sung or rather bellowed a loud 
 coarse voice behind them. 
 
 The voice indeed was almost equal to the 
 roar of a bull in loudness ; and this became 
 a matter of marvel when the hearer recog- 
 nized the owner of the tremendous voice in 
 a creature scarcely four feet high, and whose 
 legs were barely long enough to cross the 
 back of the horse he rode. What he lacked 
 in height, however, Gilpin Horner, the 
 manikin, made up for in breadth and in 
 the size of his head. He owned a body 
 equal to that of Falstaff himself, and his 
 head, with its bushy red hair, was as large 
 as any two average-sized heads of men 
 rolled together. His arms were long enough 
 to reach his knees, his mouth was big 
 enough to take in a large apple whole, his 
 eyes were of bovine size and expression 
 ordinarily. But when in a passion they 
 were capable of expressing almost a fiendish 
 malice. His eyebrows were thick and 
 lowering ; and his nose big and hooked like 
 a Jew's.
 
 THE RAID OF HALSTANE. 7 
 
 It will be admitted that the appearance 
 of this personage was even more peculiar 
 than that of Mess Simon. To the super- 
 stitious minds of the clan there was a 
 sufficient air of the uncanny about him to 
 obtain for him an amount of fear which 
 served in the place of respect or reverence, 
 and gave him more freedom of action and 
 speech than any man among them dared 
 claim except the chief, and the priest, Mess 
 Simon, who had cast his lot with theirs for 
 reasons known only to himself. 
 
 In answer to the dwarf's interruption 
 Tushielaw looked round angrily, growhng : 
 
 *^ Take care that tongue of yours does not 
 wag too fast for the safety of your head." 
 
 ** Haw, haw 1 " roared the dwarf, laughing 
 and shaking his sides as if he had discovered 
 some excellent joke. 
 
 '^ Stop your noise," muttered a giant- 
 looking fellow who rode beside Horner, but 
 whose voice was quite drowned in the 
 thundering guffaws of the latter. 
 
 The chief frowned, and, touching the sides
 
 8 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 of his horse lightly, rode up to the top of 
 the hill before his men. 
 
 He drew rein on the summit as the tower 
 of Halstane was in sight. He suddenly- 
 raised his hand as if giving a signal, and 
 the two hundred borderers came to an 
 abrupt stand upon the brow of the hill. 
 
 *'What see you?" cried the man who 
 rode beside the dwarf, and who was Patrick 
 Scott, foster-brother of the chief. The 
 gigantic proportions of this worthy, and his 
 numerous feats of strength, had obtained 
 for him the significant title of Ding-a'-doon. 
 
 The chief rejoined them. 
 
 *^ Our approach has been discovered. 
 When I reached the hill-top I saw a knave 
 galloping helter-skelter to the tower. We 
 must be ready for a tussle. Advance." 
 
 With a loud shout the mosstroopers put 
 their horses in motion, and, keeping well 
 together, galloped over the hill and across 
 the plain, approaching like one dark cloud 
 the tower of Halstane. 
 
 The ancestral home of Sir Walter Spens
 
 THE RAID OF HALSTANE. 9 
 
 stood upon a craggy foundation. A fosse of 
 some depth surrounded it, and held water 
 enough to make it unfordable. The tower 
 itself was tall, square, and strong ; and 
 fifty men might easily have held it in 
 despite of an enemy of double the strength 
 of Scott had they been sufficiently pro- 
 visioned. 
 
 But at present there were not more than 
 twenty men in the tower, and they were 
 mostly old and feeble. 
 
 They had received intimation of their 
 approaching danger in time enough to drive 
 the cattle into the court, to raise the narrow 
 bridge which crossed the fosse, and to close 
 the entrance gate. These indications, how- 
 ever, of a resolution to fight could only 
 mean that the ancient vassals of the house 
 of Spens preferred death in defending the 
 home, the wife, and daughter of their absent 
 chief to mercy at the hands of the King of 
 the Borders. 
 
 ** Curse them," muttered Scott, ^^ if they 
 mean to fight they shall have it hot enough,
 
 10 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 I warrant you. Hither, Hornie — ride up 
 and tell the Lady Spens what I have come 
 for." 
 
 Eaising a little white flag which he 
 carried at his saddle-bow, and striking his 
 horse vigorously with the lance he carried, 
 the dwarf rode from the place where the 
 raiders had halted up to the tower. 
 
 Waving his white flag, and raising his 
 voice to its loudest pitch, he cried — 
 
 *' Ho there, ye who keep the tower of 
 Spens ! as the herald of Tushielaw, our right 
 true and mighty King of the Borders, I 
 charge ye answer." 
 
 The thundering voice rang through the 
 tower, but no answer was given. The 
 summons was repeated twice, and before 
 the dwarf had finished speaking for the 
 third time ten men appeared upon the 
 rampart ; and immediately thereafter Lady 
 Spens and her daughter, a child of some 
 six years, advanced to the parapet. 
 
 The lady was tall, and her form possessed 
 that grace which is dignified without being
 
 THE RAID OF HALSTANE. 11 
 
 in any respect masculine. Her hair was 
 long, soft, and brown ; the eyes blue and 
 expressive ; the features regular, and the 
 complexion fair. In brief, she was fully 
 entitled to the compliments of the country 
 side, which recognized her as the bonny 
 lady of Halstane. 
 
 Her child Alice gave promise of rivalling 
 her mother's charms. The big blue eyes of 
 the little one gazed bewilderedly about, and 
 then the lovely young face was turned 
 upward to the mother's, as if seeking there 
 the explanation of the commotion and 
 anxiety which had suddenly disturbed the 
 household. Always she clung timorously 
 to her parent's dress as if instinctively 
 recognizing the danger she could not under- 
 stand. 
 
 The long yellow hair of the child fell over 
 her shoulders, and the wind played with 
 it gaily, and now and again the mother 
 fondled it and smoothed it back from the 
 white brow, the while she gazed into the 
 innocent eyes as if seeking there some
 
 12 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 strength for the task she had to per- 
 form. 
 
 Her ladyship spoke to the man who stood 
 nearest her person ; and Andrew Howie, 
 one of the lealest vassals of the Spens, 
 saluted Gilpin Horner, the manikin. 
 
 ** My leddy bids me speer yonr master's 
 wiU." 
 
 The mouth of Horner opened wide, show- 
 ing large white teeth and a cavern within, 
 as he grinned broadly. 
 
 ^^ My master's will is no easy to tell," he 
 responded; ^'but gin your bonny leddy 
 would consent to open the yetts and let 
 us inside Halstane, she can speer his will 
 from himsel', and I'se warrant the answer'll 
 be pleasant enough." 
 
 ^^ We dinna open the barn door to the 
 wolf. We've shut the yetts in your master's 
 teeth, and if ye would come in ye maun just 
 open them yoursel's." 
 
 *^ Well, that's as you please ; we're no 
 particular." 
 
 " Who bade you say yea or nay on that
 
 THE RAID OF HALSTANE. 13 
 
 head?" interrupted the harsh voice of 
 Tushielaw himself. 
 
 He had impatiently noted from the dis- 
 tance the slow progress his emissary seemed 
 to make in his mission, and had at length 
 galloped up to decide the parley. 
 
 The dwarf grinned, but he drew his horse 
 back a few paces, yielding the ground to 
 the chief. The latter, raising himself in 
 the saddle and baring his head, modulated 
 the gruffness of his voice as far as possible 
 in addressing the lady. 
 
 ^^ I come, madam, with two hundred stout 
 men and true, to offer you our protection. 
 We ask you to trust us, and fear nothing, 
 for no harm shall come to you, or any that 
 is with you, so long as we are near." 
 
 *' The hawk offers succour to the dove," 
 rejoined her ladyship, quietly, but with a de- 
 gree of contempt sufficient to make Tushie- 
 law frown and bite his lip. She proceeded. 
 "If there be any meaning in your words, 
 good sir, withdraw your men and give us 
 leave to pass in peace to Edinburgh, where
 
 14 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 I may claim protection from those who owe 
 it me." 
 
 ^^ You refuse to treat with me as a friend ? " 
 he said, scowlingly. 
 
 ^'I have acquainted you with the only 
 course whereby you can prove your friend- 
 ship," was the dignified answer. 
 
 ^^ As the foe of Spens, then, I charge you 
 surrender the tower and all who are with 
 you." 
 
 '^ As the wife of Spens, I refuse." 
 
 ^^ Answer, then, for the consequences." 
 
 ^' I will." 
 
 Furious at his reception, but impressed, 
 by the very defiance of the lady, with a 
 deeper passion for her than he had yet 
 known, Tushielaw wheeled his horse about 
 and rode back to his men. 
 
 ^'Haw, haw, haw! " bellowed the dwarf, 
 with his unearthly laugh, as he lowered the 
 white flag, pricked with his poignard the 
 huge horse upon which he was perched, and 
 careered after his master. 
 
 At the same time the standard of the
 
 THE RAID OF HALSTANE. 15 
 
 Spens was raised on tlie top of the tower, 
 and the few brave hearts within prepared to 
 die. 
 
 The Borderers were speedily in motion, 
 this time with slower, steadier steps than 
 before. As they advanced they divided into 
 three companies, each approaching the 
 tower at a different point. 
 
 The centre company comprised a hundred 
 men, led by Tushielaw. The other com- 
 panies comprised fifty men each, and were 
 led respectively by Ding-a'-doon and Bauldy 
 Fyfe, who ranked next in authority to the 
 chief's foster-brother. 
 
 At first the dull tramp of the horses' hoofs 
 was the only sound heard in the vaUey; but 
 presently the wild slogan of the Scotts of 
 Tushielaw broke upon the air, and hill and 
 valley and forest rung again with '^ A 
 Tushielaw 1 A Tushielaw ! " 
 
 They were received with a shower of 
 bolts from the hackbuts, and the slogan rose 
 more fiercely as a number of the assailants 
 fell. There was no answering cry from the
 
 16 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 tower ; for within there were only a handful 
 of men fighting with a desperate hopeless- 
 ness. 
 
 Twenty men, propelling the trunk of a 
 tree upon four wheels, dashed forward to 
 the main entrance. This stout battering- 
 ram did good service, for the first blow 
 shattered the small upraised bridge in front 
 of the portcullis. A loud shout of triumph 
 recognized the accomplishment of this feat. 
 But even as the shout rose a shower of 
 heavy stones, thrown from the summit of 
 the tower, descended upon the besiegers. 
 Groans, shrieks, oaths, and yells followed. 
 The fallen men were quickly replaced by 
 others, and a small sowie was brought into 
 play. 
 
 A '' sowie " was a species of wooden roof 
 used in attacks upon fortresses, and was run 
 up against the walls to protect the besiegers 
 from the showers of stones usually thrown 
 from the battlements, whilst they forced an 
 entrance beneath its shelter. The name of 
 this instrument of war has been, in modern
 
 THE RAID OF HALSTANE. 17 
 
 days, given to the triangle-topped haystacks 
 in many parts of the country. 
 
 Under the sowie the battering-ram was 
 used again. The iron gate rung with the con- 
 cussion ; a number of the bars snapped, and 
 many of the stanchions gave way. Another 
 shout, and another discharge of stones, but 
 this time with little effect, for they mostly 
 slid off the wooden shield, and fell harm- 
 lessly into the fosse. Two or three stones, 
 however, broke through the roof, and 
 maimed a few men. 
 
 Again the ram was propelled against the , 
 gate and as it broke down, a dozen blazing 
 torches were dropped upon the sowie, which 
 speedily took fire, and promised soon to 
 become useless. It was the last effort of 
 the stout defenders to keep the enemy 
 without the walls, and it proved of little 
 service. 
 
 The battering-ram was now used as a 
 bridge, and upon it the raiders rapidly 
 crossed the fosse one after another. The 
 passage into the court was defended by two 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 18 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 old men, but one soon fell beneath the blow 
 of a long Jeddart axe, and the other hastily 
 fled. 
 
 And amidst all this terrible din and con- 
 fusion, whilst the agonizing groans of the 
 fallen and the fiendish yells of the victors 
 made the air hideous, Lady Spens, the 
 delicate beauty of Halstane, had rallied her 
 handful of faithful vassals upon the battle- 
 ments, and by her own calm bearing and 
 brave words cheered them to continue the 
 desperate struggle for life. When, however, 
 she perceived that an entrance had been 
 gained, she knew that further attempt to 
 defend their home was useless. Little 
 mercy was to be expected from Tushielaw 
 or his followers if they were true to their 
 repute. But what little hope she might 
 obtain she resolved to seek for the sake of 
 the few trusty ones who were still with 
 her. 
 
 They had numbered twenty-five before 
 the fight began; there were only ten 
 around her now.
 
 THE RAID OF HALSTANE. 19 
 
 Andrew Howie had endeavoured to per- 
 suade her to seek safety in flight whilst 
 they were yet strong enough to conceal her 
 absence for a little time. His persuasion 
 failed, for she would not budge — not even 
 for the sake of fair-haired Alice — as long as 
 she thought her presence might aid them 
 in any way. 
 
 She advanced now to the parapet to 
 wave her handkerchief in token of sub- 
 mission. 
 
 She drew back shuddering — it was too 
 late. 
 
 Thick blue clouds of smoke ascended 
 upon all sides, wreathing and curling 
 serpent-like. 
 
 The principal weapon of defence had 
 been turned against the defenders, and the 
 tower was on fire. 
 
 The men who had crossed the fosse had 
 torn down the burning sowie, and had 
 recklessly thrust blazing portions of it into 
 every ignitable corner. At the same time 
 others speedily formed a rude bridge with
 
 20 THE BRAES OF YAREOW. 
 
 some loose planks, drove the cattle out of 
 the court, and admitted as many of the 
 assailants as was thought necessary to com- 
 plete the work. 
 
 The first to cross the bridge was Tushie- 
 law, who made instantly for the spiral stair- 
 case leading to the battlement. He was 
 met by Ding-a'-doon, who was begrimed 
 with dust and drunk with excitement, and 
 otherwise bore indications that he was 
 working hard and enjoying himself. The 
 heavy axe, which rested upon his shoulder 
 as he hurried towards the point where he 
 met his chief, was a sickly sight. He was 
 accompanied by half a dozen begrimed and 
 excited men who delighted as much as 
 himself in the turmoil. 
 
 A signal from Tushielaw, and they 
 followed him close as he sprang up the 
 narrow winding staircase. Twice the pas- 
 sage was contested, but the strong arm and 
 thorough hardihood of the leader broke 
 down all barriers. At the last turn of the 
 stairs, however, the struggle became fiercer
 
 THE RAID OF HALSTANE. 21 
 
 than it had yet been, for the men who de- 
 fended this place fought as men only fight 
 when resolved to die. 
 
 The assailants were forced backward, 
 and Tushielaw ground his teeth as he found 
 the action of his arms hampered by those 
 behind him almost as much as by those in 
 front. He lost his balance, and the long 
 sword of a white-headed old man, whose 
 eyes burned with the enthusiasm of youth, 
 was raised to strike him down. But the 
 devil favoured his minion, and Ding-a'-doon, 
 using his long Jeddart axe over the shoulder- 
 of his chief, parried the blow, and cleft the 
 white head in twain. Then with a tri- 
 umphant shout Tushielaw and his followers 
 sprang over the body and out upon the 
 battlement. 
 
 There were only four men to oppose them, 
 and the fate of the struggle was speedily 
 decided. 
 
 *^ Where is the wench and that yellow- 
 haired chick of hers?" roared Tushie- 
 law.
 
 22 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 The others echoed the cry, but none 
 could answer it. 
 
 Lady Spens and her daughter had dis- 
 appeared. 
 
 Confusion followed ; men ran hither and 
 thither seeking wildly for the fugitives, and 
 above all the din was heard the loud 
 bellowing laugh of the dwarf. 
 
 ^'Haw, haw, haw ! " 
 
 Attracted by the sound, they looked about 
 and presently discovered the manikin, with 
 a face rendered more hideous than usual by 
 being blackened over, with his red hair and 
 his clothes in the same condition, seated 
 upon the side of the white mouth of a 
 chimney, holding his sides as if fearing 
 they would burst with the laughter which 
 seemed to convulse him. 
 
 Tushielaw advanced to him furiously. 
 
 '' Speak, imp of the foul fiend, and give 
 one good reason for your mirth, else you 
 shall laugh in another key. What have 
 you seen ? " 
 
 Hornie continued his laugh despite the 
 angry gaze fixed upon him.
 
 THE RAID OF HALSTANE. 23 
 
 '' Weel," he answered at intervals, 
 ** whilst ye were wasting time fechting your 
 way up the stair I came up the lum quietly, 
 and got to the tap in time to see my lady, 
 the bairn, and Andrew Howie skelping aff 
 this gate." 
 
 He slipped from his perch, and passing 
 over close to the parapet inserted his poig- 
 nard at the side of one of the floor stones, 
 raised it, and disclosed a dark hole. 
 
 '' They went down here — hut how ? " he 
 said, scratching his head. Suddenly his 
 eyes brightened and he chuckled with satis- 
 faction, ^^ They had a ladder, and they've 
 ta'en it down after them. Gie's a haud o' 
 your lance, man." 
 
 He snatched the weapon from the man 
 who was standing nearest, probed the hole 
 he had uncovered, and by reaching his long 
 arm down touched the bottom with the 
 lance. 
 
 He thereupon dropped into the hole and 
 slid down the lance. He called to those 
 above, and Tushielaw followed him, next 
 Ding-a'-doon and two others.
 
 24 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 They found themselves in a narrow dark 
 passage. They groped their way along 
 after Hornie, who suddenly stumbled upon 
 a door, which burst open, and supplied some 
 light to the passage. They now entered 
 a large chamber, but it was so densely filled 
 with smoke that they could see nothing, 
 and were glad to step back to the passage 
 for air. 
 
 " Confusion! " growled Tushielaw, fuming 
 with rage and disappointment ; ^4et the place 
 be surrounded and every corner searched. 
 Half of my share of the day's capture goes 
 to whoever finds the Lady Spens or the 
 bairn. She shall either die or be in my 
 hands to-night." 
 
 There was wilder hurry and confusion 
 than ever when this order went forth.
 
 ( 25 ) 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 OUT IN THE SNOW. 
 
 " Why runs thy stream, O Yarrow, Yarrow, red ? 
 Why on thy brae 's heard the voice of sorrow ? 
 And why yon melancholious weeds. 
 
 Hang on the bonny birks of Yarrow ? " 
 
 Hamilton of Bangour. 
 
 A vigorous but unavailing search was 
 kept up in the tower and neighbouring 
 woods whilst daylight lasted. When dark- 
 ness came torches and fires were lit by the 
 parties which surrounded the now ruined 
 keep. The secret passage by which the 
 lady and her daughter had escaped had not 
 been discovered ; and Tushielaw suspected 
 that the fugitives might be still about the 
 building waiting for nightfall to get away.
 
 26 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 Those who returned from the forest were 
 posted in a circle, with the lights around 
 the tower ; and those who had remained on 
 guard during the day were despatched to 
 scour the district. 
 
 Tushielaw himseK, heedless of snow and 
 darkness, set out with a party of six in the 
 direction of St. Mary's loch, intending to 
 move on to Selkirk. 
 
 The suspicion of the horder chief had been 
 nearer the mark than he had calculated. 
 
 When Lady Spens had the conviction 
 forced upon her that not only was all hope 
 of successful defence lost, but that the hope 
 of obtaining any mercy at the hands of the 
 infuriated conquerors was also gone, she had 
 yielded to the repeated prayers of Howie 
 and the rest of her kinsmen. Eelinquishing 
 her child to the strong arms of Andrew, she 
 had descended the ladder leading to the 
 dark passage in the wall. 
 
 Here a secret door was moved, and the 
 party reached a long narrow flight of stairs 
 which conducted them to the vaults of the
 
 OUT IN THE SNOW. 27 
 
 keep. Moving cautiously and still in the 
 dark, listening with pulses quickened to 
 pain to the murmur and din going on above, 
 and indicating that the work of destruction 
 speeded merrily, they traversed the vaults 
 till they reached the northern wall. At this 
 point Howie consigned the fair-haired little 
 Alice to the arms of her mother, and groped 
 along the wall. 
 
 He muttered to himself uneasily, and the 
 lady trembled for the result of his search. 
 The secret of the door for which he was 
 seeking was intrusted only to the family,, 
 and on occasions to the chief seneschal of 
 the house. The door was formed of an 
 iron frame filled in with stonework, and so 
 cunningly wrought and concealed by Italian 
 workmen that, even with lights, it was not 
 easy to find. There was not much marvel, 
 then, that honest Andrew had a difficulty in 
 finding the door in the dark, and agitated 
 as he was for his lady's safety and for his 
 own. 
 
 *^ Holy Mary be praised ! " he gasped at 
 last, in an undertone.
 
 28 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 The stone door yielded, and they passed 
 into a damp cavern cut in the rock. The 
 sides were slimy with the constant moisture 
 caused by the water penetrating fi'om the 
 moat. The ground, too, was. wet and 
 sHppery, and the progress of the fugitives 
 was slow. Howie again took the child, and 
 Lady Spens leant upon his shoulder. In 
 this manner they proceeded down the sub- 
 terranean hall, which was about four hun- 
 dred yards in length, and had its outlet 
 amongst a dense thicket of furze near the 
 river. 
 
 When within a short distance of the 
 outlet they paused. Andrew, doffing his 
 leathern jerkin, spread it upon the ground, 
 and upon this his mistress, with her 
 wearied and frightened child, rested. 
 
 Little Alice clung to her mother's neck, 
 now crying with hunger and fatigue, then 
 trying to smile through her tears, with a 
 childish perception of her mother's distress, 
 and making a feeble effort to give her 
 comfort.
 
 OUT IN THE SNOW. 29 
 
 " My poor bairn, my poor bairn ! " sobbed 
 the lady, clasping ber convulsively to her 
 breast ; *^ we are homeless and friendless 
 now, since the hungry wolf of Tushielaw 
 has turned us from our home. Oh, had 
 your father been here : but he " 
 
 She clasped the child more closely to her 
 breast, moaning. She dared not think of 
 the absent husband, for since he had 
 gathered his men, and departed with pen- 
 nons gaily flying in the wind, to join his 
 King in the fatal expedition which had 
 terminated at Flodden, she had heard 
 nothing of him or from him. 
 
 Was he living or dead ? 
 
 The question haunted Lady Margaret's 
 mind by day and night. She prayed and 
 hoped, and hoped and waited for his re- 
 turn. But he had not come ; neither had 
 there come any tidings of his fate. But 
 she would not, she dared not, think that 
 he was gone for ever. 
 
 And yet the flower of Scottish chivalry 
 had fallen by the side of their King. In
 
 30 TUE BRAES OP YARROW. 
 
 spite of all, she hoped on and waited, 
 finding ground for faith in the fact that 
 the fate of the King himself was still 
 unknown. Every rumour that suggested 
 that the King lived, every futile attempt 
 to decide whether he had fallen on the 
 field, as the English asserted, encouraged 
 the idea that the stalwart Knight Sir 
 Walter Spens was alive and with James, 
 and that he would return by-and-by. 
 
 It might be, she thought, that the 
 chivalrous nature of the King, writhing 
 under the shame of the terrible defeat of 
 Elodden — a defeat resulting wholly from 
 his own foolhardiness — unable to brook 
 the spectacle of the misery of his people, 
 whom he had bereft of fathers, sons, 
 brothers, and husbands, had sought for- 
 getfulness, or at least relief, in oblivion. 
 And perhaps her husband had been one 
 of the few who had accompanied the un- 
 happy monarch in his self-imposed exile. 
 Perhaps the King, as rumour would have 
 it, was making a pilgrimage to Jerusalem
 
 OUT IN^ THE SNOW. 31 
 
 in expiation of his folly. Perhaps, as 
 another rumour gave out, he had been 
 carried away to Home Castle and mur- 
 dered. In any case Sir Walter might still 
 live, and for that she prayed. The iron 
 girdle of the King, which he had worn 
 day and night in penance for the wrong 
 which he had done his father, had not 
 been found. Surely if his fate remained 
 so much a mystery, surely if there could 
 be any hope that James lived, surely she 
 might cherish the thought that her hus- 
 band was with him. 
 
 Days waned, weeks passed, and now the 
 fourth month had arrived without bringing 
 any tidings of her husband or the King. 
 She still hoped, more feebly than before 
 perhaps, but at any rate she would not 
 permit herself to think of him as amongst 
 the dead. 
 
 Whilst Lady Spens and her child rested, 
 Andrew proceeded cautiously to the outlet. 
 He listened long and intently, before he 
 thrust the furze bushes aside and peered 
 forth.
 
 32 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 A heavy drizzling snow was falling, and 
 spreading like a white sheet over hill 
 and dale. It already lay several feet deep 
 upon the ground. The winter sun was 
 sinking redly behind the hills, touching 
 their white heads with a golden tint. 
 Beneath ran the melancholy murmuring 
 Yarrow ; behind glared the lights which 
 the raiders had kindled at Halstane, 
 
 Andrew could see in the fading light 
 sundry bands of horsemen coming and 
 going, like black shadows on the snow. 
 He divined the meaning of their move- 
 ments, and decided to await darkness 
 before attempting to conduct his lady from 
 her present concealment. 
 
 '^ It'll bother them to find us here," he 
 muttered; "but gif we were ance on open 
 ground, they could track us easy eneuch." 
 
 He returned to his mistress, and with 
 what simple skill he could command en- 
 deavoured to relieve the gloom of her 
 position, so far as was possible. But, 
 adding to the horror of the position, the
 
 OUT IN THE SNOW. 33 
 
 cold became intense, and, with the damp- 
 ness of the place, numbed the unfortunate 
 lady's limbs, until she could scarcely hold 
 the child Alice to her breast. Happily 
 the child slept, and was thus spared some 
 of the suffering her mother endured. 
 
 At intervals Andrew made an inspection 
 of the ground above, and at length declared 
 that they might leave their dismal hiding- 
 place. 
 
 Wrapping the still sleeping Alice in the 
 jerkin which had served as a seat, he took 
 her in his arms, and led the way. With 
 difficulty Lady Spens followed. They 
 scrambled through the furze, and out into 
 the snow, which reached above their 
 knees, and rendered walking slow and 
 painful. 
 
 The dread of capture gave Lady Margaret 
 more than common strength : but still she 
 could only drag her way feebly along. 
 Every step seemed to sink deeper and 
 deeper into the snow, and with every step 
 her feet became heavier. Every fresh effort 
 
 YOL. I. D
 
 34 THE BE,AES OF YARROW. 
 
 seemed only to reveal the greater weight of 
 the clogs attached to her. 
 
 The Yarrow, swollen with the snow, 
 roared loudly as it rushed onward ; and the 
 wind seemed to hlow more keenly in the 
 teeth of the wayfarers. 
 
 '' Gif we could only reach Newark, my 
 leddy, I'll get a horse for ye, or steal 
 ane," said Andrew, trying to speak bravely, 
 although his own heart was growing faint 
 enough ; '' and syne we can snap our fingers 
 at the red thief o' Tushielaw. Keep a stout 
 heart, my leddy; it's no very far noo." 
 
 Again she struggled forward, and the 
 wind heat against her, and the snow clogged 
 her feet, and the Yarrow moaned a weird 
 dirge-like moan as it rolled by. 
 
 The numbness of her limbs seemed to be 
 gradually stretching to her heart and brain. 
 The thought of capture lost its terror, and 
 the white glistening snow seemed to fasci- 
 nate her, and drag her down toward it. 
 Eest, forgetfulness it seemed to offer, and 
 the numbed brain could not comprehend 
 the danger of the fascination.
 
 OUT m THE SNOW. 35 
 
 Without a word, without a sound, she 
 sunk slowly down upon the snow. 
 
 Andrew's heart gave a big jump into his 
 throat when he discovered what had oc- 
 curred. 
 
 *' My leddy, my leddy," he cried im- 
 ploringly, '^for the Holy Mither's sake 
 dinna, dinna lie doon there. Eise, rise, my 
 leddy; it's only a wee bittock to Newark 
 
 noo." 
 
 * 
 
 She did not move or speak. 
 
 ^' The bairn'U dee, my leddy ; the bairn'U 
 dee." 
 
 There was a painful movement of the 
 head, and a gleam of consciousness in th.e 
 eyes. But the consciousness disappeared 
 instantly. 
 
 The old man bowed his head over the 
 burden he carried in his arms and groaned. 
 
 *^ Oh, Lord, it's a' ower wi' us noo. I 
 canna carry them baith, and I canna leave 
 the puir body here ; sae we maun a' dee 
 thegither." 
 
 He was succumbing to his fatigue and
 
 36 THE BKAES OF YARROW. 
 
 despair, when lie was startled by the neigh 
 of a horse. 
 
 He looked up quickly, and by the aid of 
 the faint light the stars were beginning to 
 give, he descried a horseman close at hand. 
 
 ''It's only ae man, and if it had been 
 three I would hae tried their strength, for 
 the sake o' this bonny lamb and my leddy 
 there." 
 
 He laid the child beside the unconscious 
 mother, and tightly grasping the long axe 
 which he had been using as a staff, he strode 
 sturdily over the snow, and planted himself 
 in what seemed the horseman's way. 
 
 When there were only some ten paces 
 between them, Andrew spoke. 
 
 '' Hand ye there, whaever ye are. I want 
 your horse, and I'll hae't, or ye'll hae my 
 life." 
 
 The horseman, for an instant surprised, 
 checked his horse. But the moment Andrew 
 had done speaking, he made prompt answer. 
 
 '' Have at ye, then." 
 
 But instead of preparing to defend him-
 
 OUT m THE SNOW. 37 
 
 self or to make an attack, Andrew gave vent 
 to a cry of delight. 
 
 " Gilbert Elliot ! '' 
 
 ^' Hallo ! " ejaculated the rider, lowering 
 his lance, and a second time checking his 
 horse, ^' who, in the fiend's name, are you ? " 
 
 '' It's me, Andrew Howie — but dinna stop 
 to speer; here's been the deil's ain wark 
 the day: Tushielaw has burnt us oot o' 
 hobse and hame, and here's my leddy and 
 her puir bairn baith deein' wi' cauld and 
 hunger." 
 
 The cavalier sprung from his horse, and 
 leading it by the bridle, followed Andrew to 
 where he had left the Lady Spens.
 
 38 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 CHAPTEK III. 
 
 A TOKEN FROM FLODDEN. 
 
 "Dool and wae for the order, sent our lads to the Border, 
 The English for ance by guile wan the day. 
 The flowers of the forest that fought aye the foremost, 
 The prime of our land are cauld in the clay." 
 
 First Version of the Flowers of the Forest. 
 
 Young, tall, muscular, and well favoured. 
 These were tlie characteristics which, were 
 first apparent in the person of Gilbert Elliot. 
 A frank honest countenance, with clear 
 grey eyes; a voice that could be sympa- 
 thetic or stern as occasion required; and 
 a bearing easy, and yet indicative of a 
 resolute spirit. Courage and vigour of will 
 were both his, and, young as he was, he 
 had won his spurs in the last tournament at 
 Edinburgh during the reign of James IV.,
 
 A TOKEN FROM FLODDEN. 39 
 
 having received from that monarch the 
 golden-headed lance due to those who had 
 shown the best prowess in the lists. 
 
 He raised the lady from her bed of snow, 
 and silently endeavoured to restore anima- 
 tion by chafing her hands and breathing 
 upon her eyes. Meanwhile Andrew, in his 
 good awkward way, fondled child AHce, who 
 had awakened, and endeavoured to keep 
 her quiet by a rude species of prattle which 
 he intended to be the same as that he 
 had heard the nurse use sometimes. Be- 
 tween whiles he acquainted Master Gilbert, 
 with the events of the day. 
 
 This occupied only a brief space, for Gil- 
 bert soon discovered that his efforts to 
 restore the lady to consciousness were 
 unavailing. 
 
 *^ We must get her to some place where 
 we can obtain assistance ; here is work for 
 the doctors," he said hurriedly, his voice 
 betraying emotion in spite of himself. 
 
 ^* Tak' her on the horse and ride to Sel- 
 kirk as fast as ye can," suggested Andrew.
 
 40 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 ^^ And the child?'' 
 
 Honest Andrew was puzzled. 
 
 '* Ou, ay, the bairn's a fash," he mut- 
 tered; but, brightening, *'ye can tie the 
 lassie in your cloak and carry her on your 
 back." 
 
 ^' What of yourself?" 
 
 *^I'll follow as fast as I'm able, and I'll 
 meet ye at the Souter's Inn. Gif there's 
 a Souter left in Selkirk ye'U no want for 
 help for the puir leddy and her bairn." 
 
 The plan was speedily put into execution, 
 and Gilbert Elliot, with Alice fastened in 
 his cloak, and the insensible mother on the 
 saddle before him, started upon his journey, 
 Andrew following on foot. 
 
 The horse bore its triple burden stoutly, 
 but in some parts the snow lay so deep 
 that it seemed almost as if they were sink- 
 ing into a morass ; and all the encourage- 
 ment of the rider was needed to urge the 
 animal forward. They passed up by the 
 riverside, and before they had proceeded far 
 the moon came out to hght the way. For
 
 A TOKEN FROM FLODDEN. 41 
 
 that service Master Gilbert hailed the ap- 
 pearance of the luminary with joy; but 
 the next moment his pleasure was some- 
 what abated by the consciousness of the 
 extra risk of discovery which the light 
 entailed. 
 
 They passed on in safety, however, for 
 some distance beyond St. Mary's loch, and 
 then Gilbert became aware that Lady Mar- 
 garet was slowly recovering. The motion 
 of the horse had been more effective as a 
 reviver than all the efforts of its master. 
 
 It was some time after the first symptom 
 of renewed life that she unclosed her eyelids 
 and gazed up into the face of her protector. 
 At first the gaze was expressionless; the 
 eyes were dull and clouded. But presently 
 a cold shudder passed over her, and a sense 
 of something of what had occurred stirred 
 within her. 
 
 She withdrew her eyes from the man's 
 face ; and when she looked again there 
 was bewilderment gradually drawing into 
 comprehension in her expression.
 
 42 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 "Alice — my child — Andrew? " she moaned 
 painfully. 
 
 " The bairn is safe, my lady," said Gilbert 
 in a subdued tone, " and with the saints' 
 help you shall be well in Selkirk ere long." 
 
 Before he had finished speaking her ex- 
 pression had changed to one singularly 
 mingled with recognition, fear, and hope. 
 Her pulse bounded and beat quick ; and, 
 starting as if to withdraw from the arm 
 which encircled her waist, she almost fell 
 from the horse. Luckily the arm was a 
 strong one, and she was saved. 
 
 " Why do you tremble, madam, and start 
 from me as if the very sight of me were 
 hideous in your eyes. Is it so ? " 
 
 " No, no, no, but — only now Andrew 
 Howie was my companion, and I was 
 startled to find you with me — you who 
 come to me like one from the dead. At 
 sight of you I am filled with hope, with 
 dread, and — ah, pity me for the dear 
 mother's sake, and answer the question I 
 fear to speak."
 
 A TOKEN FROM FLODDEN. 43 
 
 Gilbert was silent. 
 
 '* Does lie live ? " she gasped, trembling. 
 
 Still no answer, and a big beart-bnrsting 
 sob indicated the anguish the poor lady 
 suffered. 
 
 ^' You went away with him," she cried 
 piteously; "you went away with him — 
 my husband — and you return alone." 
 
 " I bear a message from him," he said 
 huskily. 
 
 " Then he lives," she cried, with a wild 
 
 joy. 
 
 No answer. 
 
 " Ah, why are you silent when you know 
 the anguish I endure until you speak ? " 
 
 '^When I saw Sir Walter last he was 
 alive," was the evasive answer. 
 
 " When, where was that ? " 
 
 " It was on the Field of Flodden, and he 
 was fighting by the King's side." 
 
 " So long ago, so long ago," she moaned. 
 " He must be dead, else would he have 
 been here." 
 
 She spoke as if the chords of her heart
 
 44 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 snapped with the words. The conviction 
 against which she had struggled so long 
 was slowly forcing itself upon her. 
 
 *^ Give me the message," she said feebly, 
 and closing her eyes as if she feared to 
 look upon the messenger the while he 
 delivered the last tidings she might ever 
 receive from her husband. 
 
 They were moving with the best speed 
 the horse could make along by the river- 
 side through a densely wooded vale, which 
 terminated at Merlin's Cairn. The trees, 
 gaunt and snow-whitened, cast grim sha- 
 dows across their path, the wind swept 
 the snow in white gusts before them, and 
 the moon shone coldly down upon them. 
 
 Little Alice happily slept through it all. 
 
 '^ The struggle was nearly over," Gilbert 
 said, '' and we were beginning to feel the 
 truth forced upon us that we should bring 
 no glory back to Scotland from Flodden 
 Field, when I received your husband's 
 message. We had barely light enough to 
 distinguish foe from friend when four men
 
 A TOKEN FROM FLODDEN. 45 
 
 with wisps of straw round the tops of their 
 spears broke into the midst of the King's 
 party. I did not see what followed. There 
 was a sudden rush and a cry of — * Trea- 
 chery, the King's betrayed.' I was un- 
 horsed, but, gaining my feet, was about to 
 spring forward to the spot where I had 
 last seen the King, when my arm was 
 grasped by Sir Walter. 
 
 '^ Speed you from the field," he said in 
 a strange voice ; ** there is no hope here. 
 Treason is rampant, and the day and our 
 King are lost. If you have ever cared for^ 
 me, or for the poor lass wearying for us 
 yonder at Halstane, speed you to her. 
 Give her this gauntlet, and tell her when 
 she receives its neighbour she will know 
 my fate." 
 
 ^* He gave me his left-hand gauntlet, and 
 I have it here for you. I should have been 
 with you many days ago ; but I went to 
 arrange the ransom of a prisoner ; re- 
 turning from our meeting place I was 
 myself captured and carried to Newcastle.
 
 46 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 There I liave been detained till two days 
 ago ; and so hindered from serving you as 
 I might have done had fortune brought me 
 hither in better time. Here is the token 
 from the dark field of Flodden." 
 
 The lady pressed the cold blood-stained 
 gauntlet to her lips with a subdued joy. 
 There was hope still. 
 
 ''Did my husband say nothing more to 
 you ? " she inquired presently. 
 
 " Yes, he spoke a few words more — few 
 words, but they conveyed a secret so ter- 
 rible that, were it spoken aloud, all Scot- 
 land would rise to tear piecemeal the man 
 who dared give it voice if he failed to prove 
 its truth upon the accursed villain it ac- 
 cuses of the foulest crime." 
 
 He spoke with a feverish warmth, and 
 his eyes glared as with fire. 
 
 His sudden change of manner alarmed 
 the lady. 
 
 ''Does it concern me?" she asked, 
 wonderingly. 
 
 " Ay, you and I, and all of us in Scot- 
 land."
 
 A TOKEN" FROM FLODDEN. 47 
 
 " Why keep it hidden, then ? " 
 
 He bent his face close to hers as if 
 fearing that the wind would catch his 
 words and blow them through the land. 
 
 '* The King was betrayed into the hands 
 of murderers. Dare I proclaim that to 
 our weeping country till I have found the 
 means to lay the charge so safely on the 
 villain's shoulders that he shall have no 
 loophole for escape ? I dare not. But, 
 while there is a gleam of life within me, 
 I will follow him like a shadow until the 
 hour comes when I can spring upon him,, 
 and, with all the strength of thirsty haste, 
 avenge our King." 
 
 '^ You know the man ? " 
 
 ^'I do, and " 
 
 He stopped abruptly, at the same time 
 checking the horse. 
 
 They were at the foot of Merlin's Cairn. 
 The hill rose almost perpendicularly upon 
 a base of rock. On the summit the moon- 
 light showed the cairn, and on the brink 
 of the precipice a small square house.
 
 48 THE BRAES OP YARROW. 
 
 Half a dozen horsemen were descending 
 the side of the opposite hill. 
 
 *'By St. Mary, the moon hetrays ns/' 
 muttered Gilbert beneath his breath. 
 *^ Yonder is Tushielaw." 
 
 ^* We are lost," cried the lady, starting 
 and trembling violently. 
 
 " They have not seen us yet." 
 
 As he spoke Gilbert slipped from the 
 saddle to the ground, leaving Lady Mar- 
 garet still upon the horse. 
 
 ^' Eide, lady," he said hastily; *'ride for 
 your life up this pass and gain the hut up 
 yonder." 
 
 Without giving her time to speak of her 
 child he struck the horse smartly with his 
 hand, and it bounded forward up the narrow 
 pass which circled round the hill and con- 
 ducted to the cairn.
 
 ( 49 ) 
 
 CHAPTEB IV. 
 
 THE KNIGHT OF THE MASK. 
 
 " There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, 
 Than are dreamt of in our philosophy." 
 
 Shakespeaee. 
 
 When the horse had borne the lady out of 
 sight Gilbert Elliot turned to examine his 
 position, and to calculate his chance of 
 defence against the enemy. 
 
 Behind him rose the precipice of Merlin s 
 Cairn, with its sharp jutting boulders snow- 
 capped and frowning down upon him ; on 
 either side crags, furze, and skeleton trees ; 
 all white with snow. A few yards from his 
 feet ran the river, and on the other side 
 rose hill and forest. Close at hand Tushie- 
 law and his half-dozen followers, proceeding 
 
 VOL. I.** E
 
 50 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 rapidly in the direction from which Lady 
 Spens and her protector had just come. 
 
 His position was a good one ; for he stood 
 upon a slight elevation, and the sharp crags 
 which guarded the mouth of the pass would 
 not permit two men to advance upon him 
 together. But the disadvantage of the 
 position was, that should any one get on 
 to the crags behind him he could have little 
 hope of saving himself, hampered as he was 
 by the care of the gentle little Alice. He 
 half repented now that he had not risked 
 the delay of giving her to her mother, for 
 he was in momentary dread that she would 
 waken and attract the attention of the pur- 
 suers. 
 
 The child did waken at the sound of the 
 borderers' voices as they passed. 
 
 ^Tm cold, cold," the little one cried 
 piteously. 
 
 ''Whisht ye, whisht, my bairn," muttered 
 Gilbert as softly as possible, watching the 
 troopers intently the while. 
 
 The child was somehow frightened by the
 
 THE KNIGHT OF THE MASK. 51 
 
 voice, and somewhat, perhaps, by her 
 inexplicable surroundings. She held her 
 breath. 
 
 ^^They have heard nothing," reflected 
 Gilbert with a breath of relief, and he 
 moved with the intention of proceeding up 
 the pass. 
 
 He suddenly checked himself, for he 
 observed that the horsemen had stopped in 
 a body, and several had dismounted. 
 
 *' They are tracking the horse's footsteps 
 in the snow," he muttered between his 
 clenched teeth, the while he grasped his 
 lance firmly with one hand, and his heavy 
 sword with the other. 
 
 His suspicion was presently confirmed. 
 Three of the men retraced their way, 
 watching the ground closely as they moved 
 towards the pass where Elliot waited. 
 
 A shout from one of the men, and he 
 knew that he was seen. 
 
 ^' And wha may ye be, in the deil's 
 name ? " shouted Ding-a'-doon, who had 
 been the first to observe him. 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 iiNivcociTV OF lUJNOIS
 
 52 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 ''There is no need that you should know," 
 was the response. 
 
 " May be sae, may be sae, but gif I think 
 I hae a richt to an answer that's anither 
 affair. What's that on your back ? " 
 
 '' Nothing of yours." 
 
 ''Ye'llnotellme?" 
 
 ''No." 
 
 The brawny giant was about to try the 
 effect of his Jeddart axe in obtaining a 
 more satisfactory answer when Tushielaw 
 stopped him. 
 
 " Never mind him, man," cried the chief- 
 iain gruffly, " follow the track of the horse." 
 
 " It has gone up the pass." 
 
 " Then go on." 
 
 "You cannot pass this way," said Gilbert, 
 firmly. 
 
 Tushielaw looked up savagely. 
 
 " Who or what will stay us ? " 
 
 "I wintry." 
 
 "Down with the gowk," roared the 
 borderer. 
 
 Ding-a'-doon swung his axe, in brisk
 
 THE KliTIGHT OF THE MASK. 53 
 
 obedience to the command, as lie leapt 
 upon a crag. But as he leapt Gilbert 
 struck him on the breast with his spear. 
 Ding-a'-doon lost his balance and reeled 
 backwards, knocking down the man behind 
 him as he fell. 
 
 ^^ Fiends burn you," growled Tushielaw 
 as he urged his horse forward. 
 
 He raised himself in the saddle that he 
 might strike with greater force at the 
 doughty keeper of the pass. Gilbert placed 
 his spear against the rock, holding it firmly 
 pointed towards his opponent's breast, while 
 with a sweep of his sword he struck off the 
 head of Tushielaw' s axe. At the same 
 time the spear caught a ring in his shirt of 
 mail. Gilbert could not reach him with his 
 sword, but he cut the horse's ear, and the 
 animal sprang backward, throwing its rider 
 violently to the ground. 
 
 Whereat the savage shouts and oaths of 
 the troopers indicated how little mercy 
 would be shown to the victor. Happily, a 
 black mass of cloud covering the moon, cast
 
 54 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 sudden darkness upon the glen, and con- 
 siderably added to the confusion of the 
 mosstroopers. 
 
 Gilbert took advantage of the darkness, 
 and hurriedly made his way up the steep 
 pass to the hut on Merlin's Cairn, which he 
 entered with his little charge in safety. He 
 was breathless when he thrust open the 
 door, and he was somewhat astounded when, 
 instead of finding himself in the presence 
 of Kirsty Hyslop, he encountered a strange 
 gentleman whose face was covered by a 
 black mask. But he was too much con- 
 cerned for the moment about the condition 
 of Alice to pay any attention to this singu- 
 lar circumstance. He hastily placed the 
 child in front of the peat fire, and patted 
 her cold hands in order to arouse her from 
 the state of semi-torpor into which she had 
 fallen. 
 
 The house was neither large nor strong. 
 It was built of stones clumsily stuck to- 
 gether ; the roof was of thatch, and the 
 door was composed of stout wattles. There
 
 THE KNIGHT OF THE MASK. 55 
 
 were two apartments — " a but and a ben" 
 —with a square species of cupboard, built, 
 like the walls, of stone, and placed close to 
 the door of the inner chamber. The floor 
 was earthen, and the furniture of the cham- 
 ber, which Gilbert had entered, consisted 
 principally of a couple of rude stools and a 
 block of wood, which evidently served as a 
 table or seat as might be required. Any- 
 thing rather than a cheerfal-looking place, 
 certainly; but the peats which burned 
 slowly on the floor were, on such a night, 
 pleasant to see, even in this grim abode. 
 
 Presently Gilbert turned to seek Lady 
 Spens. She was not in the chamber, but 
 the man in the mask was gazing silently 
 upon them. 
 
 Gilbert was about to inquire for her lady- 
 ship, but something in the position or bear- 
 ing of this man arrested his tongue, while 
 a strange feeling of mingled doubt and 
 respect rose within him. 
 
 The man was rather above the average 
 height, and of sinewy form. There was
 
 6Q THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 nothing to indicate muscular strength, yet 
 a certain dignity in the poise of the frame 
 impressed the observer with a respect for 
 which he could not readily find an explana- 
 tion. His dress was entirely black, and 
 somewhat of the English fashion, consisting 
 of a short cloak of velvet, a loose jerkin of 
 the same material, and silken hose. His 
 head was covered by a black skull-cap, to 
 which the mask was secured. 
 
 All this was sombre enough. Further, 
 the absence of armour of any sort increased 
 the singularity of his appearance, whilst his 
 eyes shining out from the black mask 
 obtained unusual brightness by their setting, 
 and with somewhat of sadness in their ex- 
 pression, inspired confidence and yet aroused 
 curiosity. 
 
 Whilst Gilbert was making these obser- 
 vations, little AHce was regaining warmth, 
 and suddenly recalled her guardian to a 
 consciousness of her presence. 
 
 *^ Mother, mother," she sobbed. 
 
 Gilbert started, and the spell of fascina-
 
 THE KNIGHT OF THE MASK. 57 
 
 tion whicli had kept his eyes fixed upon the 
 stranger was broken. 
 
 '' Yes, yes — where is the lady ? " 
 
 "The lady?" exclaimed the stranger, 
 apparently unable to understand. 
 
 "Yes, the lady who came here but now 
 — where is she ? ' ' 
 
 The evident surprise with which his in- 
 quiries were received alarmed Gilbert. Yet 
 the path on which he had started the horse 
 led straight to the hut, and the moon, 
 which at that time had been shining clearly, 
 must have afforded her sufficient light to 
 see the way. 
 
 Something in the manner of the masked 
 gentleman betokened emotion on his part 
 also, as he answered — 
 
 "No one, save ourselves, is here." 
 
 Gilbert sprang to his feet. 
 
 " Merciful powers — she has missed the 
 way — perhaps fallen into the hands of her 
 enemy." 
 
 He rushed to the door, but abruptly 
 stopped, and turned upon the stranger.
 
 58 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 *^ Our meeting has been a singular one, 
 master ; but I must discover the fate of the 
 lady at once, and I trust this child to your 
 care until my return." 
 
 The masked man bowed with a quiet 
 dignity, as if accepting the trust imposed 
 on him. 
 
 Gilbert passed forth, and from the height 
 he caught a glimpse of Tushielaw's party, 
 as it disappeared through the glen. 
 
 They had failed to discover the manner of 
 his escape — ^had given up the chase, perhaps, 
 and were beating a retreat. So Gilbert 
 thought, and the thought gave him some 
 relief. 
 
 He hastened round to the pathway by 
 which Lady Spens should have arrived at 
 the cairn. He could find no traces of the 
 horse's footsteps until he was haK-way 
 down to the glen. There he was startled 
 by finding the stone trodden down by the 
 feet of several horses and men as if there 
 had been a struggle of some sort on the 
 spot. From this place he traced numerous
 
 THE KNIGHT OF THE MASK. 59 
 
 footprints down to the entrance of the 
 pass which he had defended so faithfully, 
 until, as he had thought, the lady was safe. 
 
 He was confused beyond measure by the 
 fears which filled his mind. Her ladyship 
 must have reached the cairn long before 
 him had she proceeded thither as directed ; 
 more than enough time had been allowed 
 her. How then had she failed ? The truth 
 flashed upon him with painful vividness, for 
 it brought to him much self-reproach for his 
 bHndness. In order to secure her safety he " 
 had sent her away alone, whilst her child 
 remained in danger. She must have 
 dreaded the result of his contest with the 
 pursuers, for her child's sake, and so turned 
 back, but taking the wrong path, had 
 missed him and fallen into the hands of 
 Tushielaw. 
 
 Bitterly he upbraided himself for his 
 ignorance of woman's natm-e in thinking 
 that she would accept life for herself, and 
 leave her child in peril. He had been blind 
 and stupid.
 
 60 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 But his was a nature prompt in decision, 
 and lie did not waste much time in vain 
 regrets, but made speed back to the cairn 
 house. 
 
 On entering he found the stranger seated 
 on one of the rude stools with Aly — that 
 was the pet name of little Alice — upon his 
 knee. The two had evidently become the 
 best of friends in spite of the black mask 
 upon the man's face, which under ordinary 
 circumstances would have rendered con- 
 ciliation with the child impossible. Gilbert, 
 however, was too deeply agitated to pay 
 much heed to the matter. 
 
 ^' Well," said the soft voice of the man of 
 the Mask, looking up with earnest interest 
 expressed in his eyes. 
 
 *' She has been captured — she is in the 
 power of a fiend." 
 
 '^ You mean " 
 
 "Tushielaw — the robber, traitor, and 
 assassin." 
 
 ^' That is a black list of crime." 
 
 *^ And a true one. He is a villain so foul
 
 THE KNIGHT OF THE MASK. 61 
 
 that I think the fiends themselves must 
 hate him." 
 
 '^ You are his enemy ? " 
 
 *^Ay, to the death." 
 
 " For what reason ? " 
 
 *^A great one, hut one to which I dare 
 not yet give voice." 
 
 *' I will not press you for your secret; but 
 in sooth there is cause enough for your 
 enmity in the work he has done to- 
 day." 
 
 ^^I see you are my friend," cried Gilbert, 
 gladly, *' and you will aid me." 
 
 The Mask shook his head sadly. 
 
 ^^ I have little power, but with what I 
 have I will aid you. What is your need ? " 
 
 ^^ First, protection for this child till I 
 return." 
 
 '^ That, you know, she can have here. 
 The woman Kirsty Hislop, the witch as 
 she is called, is too much dreaded by the 
 people for any to invade her home or to 
 defy her power. Even Tushielaw's followers 
 would not readily enter this hut. Besides,
 
 62 THE BRAES OF YAKROW. 
 
 she is my friend, and will guard this child 
 from all danger, I pledge myself." 
 
 ^^ Pardon, master," said Gilbert, still 
 hesitating, ^* but I do not know your name ; 
 even your face is hidden from me. How 
 can " 
 
 He stopped, unwilling to complete the 
 sentence. 
 
 '^ How can you trust me — is not that 
 what you would say ? " 
 
 Gilbert inchned his head. 
 
 ^^ You must risk the trust. My face you 
 may not see, for it is the face of one who is 
 dead to the world. My name? I have 
 none. Four months ago I bore a name as 
 high and noble as any in all Scotland. To- 
 day I am nameless. Why, I cannot tell 
 you or any one." 
 
 There was a subdued sadness and earnest- 
 ness in his tone which compelled the hearer 
 to accept his words with faith. 
 
 *'I will trust you," said Gilbert, moved 
 by the generous impulse of youth; *^but 
 how shall I know you ? "
 
 THE KNIGHT OF THE MASK. 63 
 
 *^ Call me the Chevalier Night, since all 
 my life and hopes are darkened." 
 
 ^^ Yours is a strange humour, but I will 
 not baulk it. Here is my hand. I will not 
 seek to fathom the mystery which surrounds 
 you or to discover aught you may wish to 
 conceal, until you are willing to confide 
 wholly in me." 
 
 The Chevalier took the outstretched hand, 
 the while his eyes seemed to search the 
 inmost thoughts of the youth. 
 
 '^For so much I thank you, Gilbert 
 Elliot " 
 
 ^* You know my name ? " 
 
 ''Yes, and I know too that you were a 
 brave squire to one of the most faithful 
 knights in your late King's service." 
 
 '' Our late King — are you sure he is 
 dead?" 
 
 '' The world says so." 
 
 Gilbert turned away his head, breathing 
 heavily, and the Chevalier pressed his hand 
 as if in sympathy with his grief.
 
 64 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 '^But we will not speak of him now," 
 continued the latter, with a slight tremor in 
 his voice. '' Tell me of yom^ family." 
 
 ^' I have none. All that I am I owe to 
 Sir Walter Spens, who found me friendless, 
 and became almost a father to me. All 
 that I hope to be I will owe to a strong 
 arm and a good sword." 
 
 *' And a generous heart. Well, perhaps I 
 will be able to help you forward more than 
 you think. We shall see. For the present 
 I will secure the safety of the child. What 
 other need have you ? " 
 
 '^ Procure me a horse." 
 
 " There is one at hand." 
 
 '' That is all I seek. For the rest, I will 
 rescue Lady Spens or die. Stay, there is 
 one favour more." 
 
 *^Let me know it." 
 
 '^ Should I fail to return here in three 
 days, or to send for the child, will you get 
 her conveyed to the Queen ? " 
 
 The Chevalier started, but instantly re- 
 sumed his quiet imperturbable manner.
 
 THE KNIGHT OF THE MASK. 65 
 
 " I will see that your wish is obeyed." 
 
 " A thousand thanks. And now farewell 
 till we meet again." 
 
 '^ That may be soon." 
 
 *^ I pray that it may be, for then my lady 
 will be safe." 
 
 There was a timid knock at the door, and 
 when it was opened Andrew Howie, looking 
 pale and frightened, entered hesitatingly. 
 He was acquainted with the reputed cha- 
 racter of the woman who dwelt here, he 
 was alarmed by the singular appearance of 
 the Chevalier Night, and nothing but his 
 dread of being bewitched or cursed in some 
 way prevented him refusing bluntly to leave 
 Aly in such dangerous keeping. As it was, 
 he mumbled a good deal in a shy scared 
 way. He wished to stay, and yet he wished 
 to accompany Gilbert, for he had seen 
 Tushielaw and his party passing down the 
 Yarrow side with the captured lady. At 
 length he decided to accompany Gilbert, 
 and the two speedily set out upon the ex- 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 6Q THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 pedition, leaving little Aly to the care of 
 the strange Chevalier in the house of Kirsty 
 Hyslop, who was known as the "Witch of 
 Merlin's Cairn.
 
 ( 67 ) 
 
 CHAPTEE V. 
 
 THE KEVEL AT TUSHIELAW. 
 
 *' Hark the loud revel wakes again 
 To greet the leader of the train. 
 Behold the group by the pale lamp — ' 
 
 By what strange features vice hath known 
 To single out and mark her own." 
 
 E/OKEBY. 
 
 EisiNG upon a declivity from the banks of 
 the Ettrick water at its junction with the 
 Eaukle Burn stood the tower of Tushielaw. 
 A grim, hare, and strong fortress, every 
 stone of which might have borne testimony 
 to some special outrage. 
 
 Had light and noisy mirth been capable 
 of conferring any degree of geniality upon 
 the tower, there was enough of both upon 
 the second night after the raid of Halstane
 
 68 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 to have given it as hospitable an appearance 
 as ever weary wayfarer might wish to see. 
 
 The raid had been a lucky one, and so 
 revel ran high in the great hall of Tushie- 
 law. Fatted oxen had been roasted whole, 
 and with the help of Selkirk bannocks had 
 formed the substantial portion of a rare 
 feast. Then good strong ale flowed freely, 
 the dice rattled, the joke passed, and the 
 laugh rang loudly against the walls. 
 Louder than the loudest rang the hoarse 
 laugh of Gilpin Horner, as, perched upon, 
 the table, with legs crossed tailorwise, he 
 watched the play between Ding-a'-doon, 
 Eddie Craig, and Yetholm Will. 
 
 The dwarf, being allowed considerable 
 freedom of speech, was never slow to make 
 a jest at the expense of any of his comrades ; 
 but he seemed to take special dehght in 
 turning the laugh against the chief's foster- 
 brother. Little men generally envy tall 
 ones their height ; and possibly Hornie felt 
 most pleasure in attacking the giant because 
 he had a spite against his superior length.
 
 THE REVEL AT TUSHIELAW. 69 
 
 At all events, tlie two were always quarrel- 
 ling, or rather, Hornie was always goading 
 Ding-a'-doon into a passion. 
 
 With a slow, surly, drunken air Ding-a'- 
 doon threw the dice, and twice he lost. 
 
 ^^ Eh, what a big head and what awfu' 
 wee wits," croaked the dwarf; "I wouldna 
 gie muckle for your share o' yesterday's 
 wark, my braw big Pate." 
 
 Big Pate scowled at him, but said no- 
 thing until he lost again, when he gave vent 
 to his vexation in an oath. 
 
 ^' Haw, haw, haw ! " roared Hornie ; '^ let 
 me play for ye, man, or ye '11 no hae a 
 bodle's worth left." 
 
 ^^ I'll ding the head aff ye if ye speak 
 again," growled Ding-a'-doon. 
 
 " It's sae muckle better nor your ain 
 that ye'd maybe like the lend o't." 
 
 Pate was in a rage, and what with his 
 losses and the laugh his comrades took at 
 his expense, he had some cause. So he up 
 with his sledge-hammer fist and aimed a 
 blow at his tormentor. Whereupon Hornie,
 
 70 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 with an impisli skirl of glee, threw up his 
 legs, received the blow on the softest part 
 of his body, and rolled heels over head from 
 the table to the floor, his gymnastics afford- 
 ing merriment to the company, and still 
 further enraging his gigantic enemy. 
 
 "Hoots, man, let the deil mind his ain 
 bairn," suggested Yetholm Will; ''and ye 
 come finish our game." 
 
 Sulkily the offended Ding-a'-doon com- 
 plied with the request of his friend; and 
 presently becoming interested forgot the 
 dwarf. The latter had remained singularly 
 quiet under the table, and those who ob- 
 served the circumstance concluded that 
 some mischief was going forward. When 
 Hornie reappeared there was a wicked leer 
 in his eyes, corroborative of the suspicion. 
 
 ''That's five for me," cried Pate, who 
 fancied his luck was returning, and was 
 jubilant accordingly. 
 
 " He's no playin' fair," shouted Hornie, 
 whose big head just appeared above the 
 board as he was standing on the floor.
 
 THE REVEL AT TUSHIELAW. 71 
 
 Pate started at the sound of his tor- 
 mentor's voice. 
 
 " Hand your chaff, Hornie, or I'll clip 
 the tongue o' ye, though I would nae like 
 to mar sic a puir wee wretch." 
 
 Here the dwarf was hit upon his vulner- 
 able part ; for, singular enough, the one 
 thing he could not bear to be jested about 
 was his deformity. 
 
 ^^Big Pate would hae stuck i' the Tarass 
 Moss the ither day if I hadna pitied him 
 and pu'ed him out, puk soul, for his long 
 legs dinna carry muckle wit." 
 
 Pate shook his fist at him. 
 
 *^ Gif I get my hands on ye " 
 
 " Would ye fecht ? — come on." 
 
 And seizing a Jeddart axe, which was 
 twice as long as himself, Hornie made 
 sundry brave gesticulations ; and, making a 
 feint across the board of tilting at Ding-a'- 
 doon, he upset that worthy's horn of ale. 
 Pate sprung up and made a rush to get 
 round the table. But in jumping up his 
 chair mysteriously jumped with him, got
 
 72 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 between his legs, and sent liim sprawling 
 upon the floor. He lay kicking and cursing 
 loud and furiously, the while his comrades 
 laughing loudly released his leg from the 
 chair, to which it had been tied by the dwarf. 
 
 *^Haw, haw, haw! " bellowed the latter, 
 as, climbing upon the shoulders of the man 
 nearest to him, he stretched out his long 
 arms, gripped one of the crossbeams of the 
 roof, and easily swung himself on to it and 
 out of harm's way. 
 
 When Ding-a'-doon regained his feet 
 Hornie had disappeared. Then the dice 
 rattled, and the revel proceeded madly as 
 ever. 
 
 Shortly before this brawl occurred two 
 seats at the head of the board had been 
 vacated. They were those of Tushielaw 
 and Simon, the priest, who had proceeded 
 to another apartment where they could 
 confer in privacy. The chamber was a 
 small one, and formed as it were an ante- 
 room to the great hall.
 
 THE KEVEL AT TUSHIELAW. 73 
 
 Here Mess Simon was seated before a 
 blazing wood fire, wliicli sparkled and 
 crackled right merrily, and lightened the 
 gloomiest corners of the dingy chamber. 
 On the table beside him was a flagon of 
 mulled wine ; his bald head shone in the 
 firelight, and his face seemed to glow with 
 beneficence, the while an occasional gleam 
 of cunning flashed in his eyes and dis- 
 appeared before its meaning could be 
 caught. 
 
 Tushielaw paced the floor with a heavy 
 sullen air, his face flushed, and his eyes full 
 of passion. 
 
 '^I have reasons. Mess Simon, I have 
 reasons for all that I do, be you sure of 
 that," he said in a thick voice. 
 
 ^* Ah, that's what you say." 
 
 And Simon smacked his lips as if he 
 would have said something very different, 
 had he thought it expedient. 
 
 Tushielaw stopped abruptly before him, 
 and, scowlingly — 
 
 ^' Do you doubt it ? "
 
 74 THE BEAES OF YARROW. 
 
 " A little perhaps." (Here the cunning 
 gleam flashed in his eyes. Was he trying 
 to fathom the motive of his master ?) 
 
 *^ Wherefore? Do you think I would 
 risk so much as I have risked without some 
 sure gain in view ? " 
 
 Mess Simon put on an expression of 
 profound meditation. 
 
 '* Hum — that is not so readily answered. 
 I take it for granted that you had some 
 good gain in view when you sold your 
 service to Surrey, and " 
 
 ^^ Curse you — be silent," interrupted 
 Tushielaw with feverish haste, and looking 
 about uneasily; ^^by my hand, you speak 
 with as little heed as if there were no more 
 danger in your words than in bidding me a 
 blessing or a penance." 
 
 *^ No one can hear us." 
 
 ^^ No matter ; when you speak of — my 
 contract " (the words came with some little 
 difficulty), " speak in whispers ; for, were it 
 known, there's not a man in Scotland or 
 on the border whose hand would not be 
 raised against me."
 
 THE REVEL AT TUSHIELAW. 75 
 
 *' As you will, then : we will let that 
 bird fly. We shall say that for certain 
 service rendered to a gentleman you are to 
 be placed in possession of a treasure which 
 will make you rich for life. Why not be 
 satisfied with the fortune you have won, 
 and seek some other land where you can 
 enjoy it in safety ? " 
 
 "I cannot leave the border," was the 
 morose answer. ^^I should die, I think, 
 were my back turned on Tushielaw and its 
 mad revels. Besides — besides, I must have 
 excitement — I must be in the saddle, sword 
 in hand, men at my back, and stiff work to 
 do in order to forget that accursed con- 
 tract." 
 
 "So that's the reason why you make a 
 raid upon Halstane and carry off the woman 
 you had most need to propitiate." 
 
 Tushielaw struck the table fiercely with 
 his hand. 
 
 " Zounds, man, is it not because I must 
 have her friendship that I have brought her 
 hither?"
 
 76 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 '^ Oil, that is your way of making friends." 
 
 ^' I had no other means. Think you, had 
 I presented myself to her and humbly 
 prayed that she would forget my black re- 
 pute, forget my enmity to her husband, and 
 accept me as her friend and guardian, that 
 she would have smiled and given me her 
 hand ? Do you think that likely ? " 
 
 " Well, no, not very likely." 
 
 ^'Why, very well, then, what else had I 
 to do but bring her here and make her my 
 wife whether she will or no." 
 
 ^' Your wife ? " (this with a slight start). 
 
 '^ Ay, my wife — is that very strange ? " 
 
 ^^No — here is your health, and a prosper- 
 ous wooing." ' 
 
 There was a peculiarity in the manner of 
 Mess Simon at this juncture — there was a 
 certain darkness in his eyes and a certain 
 nervous movement about the hands and 
 mouth suggestive of agitation from some 
 inexplicable cause ; agitation, too, which 
 all his affected good humour was not suffi- 
 cient to conceal for the moment.
 
 THE EEVEL AT TUSHIELAW. 77 
 
 Tushielaw, however, was too full of 
 passion to observe any nice changes of 
 temperament. 
 
 ^' Wooing ? " he said contemptuously ; 
 '^ certes, there will be little of that. Two 
 days ago she was at Halstane, to-night she 
 is in Tushielaw. If she refuse me now I 
 can bide a while, and, if need be, why, you 
 can wed us at any moment, and take nay 
 for yea." 
 
 The friar laughed, his eyes twinkled' 
 cunningly; and, raising his goblet, he said 
 suggestively — 
 
 "Ah, but suppose I were afflicted with 
 some stupid humour and were to accept nay 
 for nay?" 
 
 Tushielaw leaned over the table and 
 scanned the man's face narrowly. Not a 
 muscle moved. Then, slowly — 
 
 " The man who would possess the title 
 and lands of the Earl of Binram must have 
 my good- will, you see ? " 
 
 Simon nodded carelessly and drained his 
 cup.
 
 78 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 There was a heavy thud on the door, 
 which was immediately opened partially, 
 and the big red head of Hornie thrust in. 
 
 ^' Can I come in?" he said, attempting 
 to lower his loud voice. 
 
 Permission to enter being gruffly granted, 
 the dwarf opened the door sufficiently to let 
 his body pass in, and instantly closed it 
 again. There was a comical air of mystery 
 in the movements of the deformed creature, 
 which afforded mirth to the jovial friar; but 
 none to the gloomy chief, who watched 
 Hornie scowlingly. 
 
 ^' Does your inside ache, or have your 
 heels been clipped, that you tread so gaw- 
 kily on your toes ? " he growled. 
 
 The dwarf grinned broadly. 
 
 ^^ Neither ane nor ither fashes me," he 
 said, with the same effort as before to sub- 
 due his voice, ** but there's a braw bird just 
 flown richt intil the falcon's claws." 
 
 '' What is he ? " 
 
 " A packman body making his way frae 
 Carlisle to Selkirk. He has lost his road.
 
 THE REVEL AT TUSHIELAW. 79 
 
 and cam' np the tower seeking shelter for 
 the night and some ane to put him straight 
 i' the mornin'. I dinna ken what his pack 
 has in't, but I'se warrant it's a weel-stuffed 
 ane." 
 
 *^ Where is he ? " 
 
 " Wi' the bairns ben the house, drinking 
 and supping and making himsel' at hame, 
 poor soul." 
 
 ^^ Send him to the rook's nest — he must 
 pay toll before he leaves us. Let Ding-a'- 
 doon see to it." 
 
 Hornie, grinning and nodding his big 
 head knowingly, returned to the hall. The 
 packman — a middle-aged man, with very 
 bushy beard, whiskers, and moustache, a 
 greyish skull-cap, and clothes of stout but 
 common stuff — was seated below the salt 
 busy eating and drinking with apparent 
 rehsh. To him, the dwarf — 
 
 ^'Tushielaw, King of the Borders, bids 
 me say ye shall hae a clean bed o' reeds for 
 the nicht and a help on your road the 
 morn."
 
 80 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 The packman, with an air of exceeding 
 humility and gratitude, acknowledged the 
 message, and proceeded with his supper. 
 
 When Tushielaw and the friar were left 
 together, the latter carelessly took the word, 
 peering regretfully into his empty flagon the 
 while — 
 
 "You have resolved, then, come weal, 
 come woe, she shall be your wife." 
 
 "I have said it; and, set all else aside^ 
 there is that here " — he beat his breast 
 fiercely — "there's that here burning hotly 
 as an armourer's forge that impels me to it. 
 The black fiend himself and all his imps 
 seem dragging me towards her, and leaving 
 me no choice." 
 
 " When shall it be ? " 
 
 Tushielaw answered decisively — 
 
 " To-night." 
 
 Simon looked up surprised. 
 
 "Eh? — that is to say — to-night, perhaps." 
 
 " You shall see." 
 
 The other nodded doubtingly. 
 
 Tushielaw snatched up the cruzie which
 
 THE REVEL OF TUSHIELAW. 81 
 
 stood in a niche of the wall, and without 
 speaking again passed through a small side 
 door into an arched passage, at the end of 
 which was the entrance to the prison 
 chamber of Lady Spens. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 82 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 THE RIGHT-HAND GAUNTLET. 
 
 " The Lady Jean slie thoclit it sair 
 That she should see her love nae niair." 
 
 KinmaL 
 
 The chamber in which Lady Margaret was 
 confined was perhaps the most comfortable 
 in the tower. It was small and circular 
 in shape. The walls were hung with rich 
 hangings of various ill-assorted colours. 
 The bad taste displayed in this, how- 
 ever, did not trouble the master. He 
 had obtained the materials in the course 
 of different raids over the borders, and he 
 had neither leisure nor inclination to be 
 nice in his selection. They served all his 
 purpose in giving to the appearance of the
 
 THE RIGHT-HAND GAUNTLET. 83 
 
 chamber a certain degree of comfort. The 
 floor was strewn with dried reeds, and a 
 bright fire aided a richly ornamented cruzie 
 to light the chamber. A massive bedstead, 
 a table, and chairs formed the principal 
 pieces of furniture. 
 
 Some effort had been made to render the 
 chamber fit for the occupation of a lady ; 
 and had the heart been well, there was no 
 reason why the present occupant should not 
 have been as happy there as at Halstane, or 
 in the more luxurious chambers of the 
 palace at Edinburgh. But the heart was 
 not well, and so all else was worthless. 
 She was bewildered by her capture, and 
 tortured beyond measure by her ignorance 
 of the fate of her child, and of her stout 
 champion and good friend Gilbert Elliot. 
 That they had been taken, too, she did not 
 doubt ; that one or both of them had been 
 slain, she feared. She had been permitted 
 no opportunity to resolve her doubt, for 
 from the moment she had been escorted to 
 this chamber by Tushielaw, she had been
 
 84 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 visited only by a young girl who was as 
 silent as a mute. But even this creature 
 she had only seen thrice, when food was 
 brought to her — food which remained 
 scarcely tasted. Over-fatigue and lack of 
 food left her very weak ; and although she 
 had slept eight or ten hours, her nervous 
 system was strung to that pitch which over- 
 looks the gulf of insanity, and so intensified 
 her agony. 
 
 Thinking of her child, all consciousness 
 of her own position was lost. She had no 
 sense of peril to herself, her heart was so 
 full of anguish for the little one who was so 
 much more precious to her than life. 
 
 She waited and wearied through the long 
 hours, with heavy beating pulse, for some 
 one to come who would tell her ever so 
 little about her child. Now and again she 
 heard the distant sound of some loud burst 
 of coarse laughter that made her shudder as 
 with cold. Then she would turn her eyes 
 to the small grated window, and listening to 
 the shrill cries of the wind as it swept round
 
 THE RIGHT-HAND GAUNTLET. 85 
 
 the tower, she thought the elements out 
 there — the sharp wind, the white drift, and 
 the rushing waters — were less fearful than 
 the human beings by whom she was sur- 
 rounded. 
 
 She almost prayed for the appearance of 
 the man to whom she owed her great 
 misery. 
 
 At last he came. 
 
 His dark countenance was flushed with 
 drink or passion, and his piercing eyes 
 burned as if with fire, but his bearing was 
 that of a strong man whose whole strength 
 is used to appear cool and respectful. 
 
 Lady Spens half rose from her seat as he 
 entered. A repugnance, deeper than she 
 had ever known before, filled her at sight 
 of him. 
 
 When he approached, and set the light he 
 carried upon the table, she sunk back upon 
 her seat. 
 
 *' You will pardon the lack of ceremony 
 with which I visit you, madam," he said, 
 his hard voice a little unsteady at first.
 
 86 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 " when you know the import of my 
 visit." 
 
 '' You come to speak to me of my child ? " 
 she cried eagerly. 
 
 Tushielaw's brows contracted. 
 
 '^ Of her partly," he responded slowly. 
 
 He did not dare to raise his face to 
 the inquiring eyes of the mother. 
 
 " Is she here, is she safe, shall I see her ? " 
 she queried breathlessly. 
 
 He grasped the wrist of his left hand with 
 his right, and stood with an air of dogged 
 resolution gazing upon the floor. 
 
 " Before I answer you must hear and 
 answer me." 
 
 ^^ I will answer nothing until I know that 
 she is safe." 
 
 A momentary silence. Then — 
 
 *' This much I will tell you and no more 
 — her safety, her life or death, rests with 
 you." 
 
 " With me ? — ah, then, she is safe." 
 
 And the poor lady turned away her face 
 to hide its tearful gratitude to the world's 
 Guardian.
 
 THE RIGHT-HAND GAUNTLET. 87 
 
 A callous smile passed over the man's 
 countenance. 
 
 *'That is kindly spoken, lady, and em- 
 boldens me to make known the purpose of 
 my presence the more freely." 
 
 Something in his hard voice startled her, 
 perplexed her, and caused her to turn quickly 
 and regard him inquiringly. 
 
 *^ Your purpose ? " 
 
 He inclined his head stiffly. 
 
 ^* I have a purpose, and a grave one, else 
 you can divine I should not have troubled 
 myself so much to bring you hither." 
 
 ^^I listen," she said coldly, the while her 
 heart throbbed with a new undefinable 
 terror. 
 
 ^' Good. Then, first I pray you to re- 
 member that when I waited upon you at 
 Halstane you refused to receive me." 
 
 " I remember." 
 
 *^ Can you credit," he proceeded, with 
 subdued voice, ^^ that it was for your sake I 
 persisted so roughly in forcing myself upon 
 you 
 
 9 "
 
 88 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 '^ Tushielaw is not reputed a man of 
 much delicacy in these matters," she re- 
 turned bitterly. 
 
 ^' No, he is reputed, I hope, a man of 
 strong arm and strong will. But for once 
 he made a raid for the sake of another than 
 himself or any of his clan." 
 
 '^Another's sake?" 
 
 ^^ Yes, yours." 
 
 ^' Mine. The good intention was some- 
 what rudely hidden." 
 
 *' But a kindly intent it was none the less. 
 You refused to see me ; it was necessary for 
 your sake, and for the sake of all you care 
 most about, that I should see you and speak 
 with you. It was to save your life that I 
 forced my way into your home, pursued you 
 when you fled from me, and carried you 
 hither." 
 
 '' To save my life ? " 
 
 '^ Yes, and your child's." 
 
 " I cannot read your riddle." 
 
 '^ I will help you. Your husband has 
 been accused of treason to his King at 
 Modden."
 
 THE RIGHT-HAND GAUNTLET. 89 
 
 ^' Then the accuser lies," she cried with 
 sudden energy. '^ His heart is too loyal, 
 his soul too noble, to hold one treasonable 
 thought." 
 
 Tushielaw shrugged his shoulders, and 
 bowed his head deprecatingly. 
 
 " None of that will I gainsay, but " — his 
 voice was here lowered to a hissing whisper 
 — " a secret commission held in Edinburgh 
 was satisfied that his guilt was even blacker 
 than I have stated it, and as his body could 
 not be found, condemned him to be gibbeted 
 and quartered in effigy." 
 
 *^ Oh, sacred mother ! does this man 
 speak true?" moaned the lady, covering 
 her face with her hands, and shuddering; 
 *' has this been done and no voice raised to 
 defend the honour of the loyalest knight in 
 Scotland?" 
 
 '^ He was a favourite of our dead King, 
 and he had many enemies," Tushielaw 
 proceeded coolly. '' But their wrath did 
 not stop at this " 
 
 ^' What more had they the power to do ? " 
 she sobbed bitterly.
 
 90 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 '^ They had the power to confiscate his 
 lands, to confer them upon one whom they 
 favoured " 
 
 ^^ The foul black liar who has defamed 
 my husband, I well believe." 
 
 " I will not say. But they have con- 
 fiscated his lands, and more — six days ago 
 a warrant was issued for your arrest." 
 
 *^ I will go to them at once; my voice 
 at least will defend the truth of my absent 
 lord," she cried, springing to her feet. 
 
 '^ Think you they will credit you ? They 
 will torture you in the hope of wrenching 
 from your agony the confession of the con- 
 spiracy, and the revelation of all its secrets." 
 
 '^ I will go, I will go at once, and Heaven 
 will give me strength to endure all the 
 torture wherewith they may test me — to 
 endure it even to death, and I will die with 
 the assertion upon my Hps that Walter 
 Spens was true." 
 
 *^ They would not believe you." 
 
 ^^ But the people will when they learn 
 what I have suffered."
 
 THE RIGHT-HAND GAUNTLET. 91 
 
 ** The people believe him guilty. They 
 would learn nothing of your fate, and so 
 your sacrifice is useless." 
 
 '* No matter, I will go to them now." 
 
 " And leave your child friendless and a 
 beggar?" 
 
 With a low moan of anguish she sunk 
 back upon the chair, and for the moment 
 her pain dulled all sense of the place and of 
 her companion's presence. 
 
 Tushielaw bent over her and took her 
 hand. She snatched it away from him 
 shudderingly. 
 
 *^ You would not do that," he whispered, 
 and the same callous smile as before passed 
 over his face, ^' and soothely there is no 
 need ; the remedy for all your sorrow is at 
 hand." 
 
 '* Oh, what remedy is left to me ?" she 
 sobbed. 
 
 '*' Fortune and safety from your enemies 
 for yourself, fortune and happiness for your 
 child." 
 
 *' There can be no happiness for wife or
 
 92 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 child whilst his name is so black in the 
 eyes of his country." 
 
 ** Means shall be found to wipe the stain 
 away." 
 
 ** How, how? " she cried with passionate 
 eagerness. 
 
 " Through me," he answered boldly. 
 *' Become mistress of Tushielaw, and all 
 that I have promised shall be accom- 
 plished." 
 
 '^ Never ! " She checked herself, and 
 said more calmly, *' My husband still lives." 
 
 Tushielaw started as with some sudden 
 fear. Then — 
 
 *' Tush — your husband is dead : I myself 
 saw him fall." 
 
 '^ He sent to me this token that he lives," 
 she said faintly, as she produced the gauntlet 
 Gilbert Elliot had given her. 
 
 " Then be this the token of his death," 
 said Tushielaw, as he threw upon the table 
 the right-hand gauntlet of Sir Walter Spens. 
 
 There was a long weary pause the while 
 the unhappy wife's eyes gazed hopelessly
 
 THE EiaHT-HAND GAUNTLET. 93 
 
 upon the fatal token, and the suitor watched 
 her narrowly. 
 
 By-and-hy, with a weary helpless voice 
 and manner — 
 
 *^ Go away," she said feehly, ^^ go away 
 from me and let me think." 
 
 " Your answer." 
 
 *' I cannot answer now — go away." 
 
 He hesitated, he regarded her deathly 
 white face, and suddenly snatching up the 
 light he had brought with him, turned upon 
 his heel and quitted the chamber. 
 
 These were bitter tidings she had received : 
 her husband dead, his name dishonoured iii 
 the eyes of the world, almost beyond the 
 possibility of redemption : her own life and 
 that of her child in peril — how was she to 
 prove the dead knight's truth and save her 
 chHd? 
 
 She did not know, and she sat there in 
 silent anguish staring at the dread token 
 which ground all hope to dust. 
 
 There was a curious noise upon the 
 window as if some one were trying to open
 
 94 THE BRAES OF YAKROW. 
 
 it. It was curious, because the window was 
 high above the ground, from which it could 
 not be reached without the aid of a ladder. 
 The noise, however, continued, and by-and- 
 by attracted her attention. She looked up 
 wonderingly. 
 
 " Lady Margaret." 
 
 Her name was pronounced by a voice 
 that sent a wild thrill of hope through her 
 heart. 
 
 She sprang to the window, and reaching 
 it with the help of a chair she threw it open. 
 Outside the iron bars she saw a man hang- 
 ing by a rope as if he had descended by it 
 from the roof. 
 
 It was the packman to whom Tushielaw 
 had given shelter. 
 
 At sight of the strange face with its pro- 
 fusion of coarse hair outside the window, 
 she drew back startled. 
 
 The packman, holding the rope which 
 supported him in his dangerous position 
 firmly with one hand, drew the other across 
 his face, shghtly moving his beard and
 
 THE RIGHT-HAND GAUNTLET. 95 
 
 whiskers. With a subdued cry of joy, the 
 lady recognized him. 
 
 ^^GHbert." 
 
 She thrust her hand through the grating, 
 and he touched it respectfully with his lips. 
 
 " Courage, dear lady, courage," he said, 
 his voice tremulous with emotion ; *^ I come 
 to save you — to restore you to your child.'* 
 
 *^ Ah, my bairn — is she safe ? " 
 
 '' Safe and well." 
 
 ^^ Then you were not captured ? " 
 
 ^^No, I escaped them, thinking you were 
 out of danger. Discovering my error I 
 followed you hither, obtained entrance in 
 disguise, and was sent to the chamber 
 above this one to rest for the night. I filed 
 the bars of the window, and with this rope 
 and our holy mother's help have been able 
 to reach you." 
 
 She looked around hopelessly. 
 
 ^* But can your presence serve me ? Alas, 
 no." 
 
 ^^It can, it can — but stay: let me look 
 into your face."
 
 96 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 She raised her eyes to his. 
 
 The confidence and resokition expressed 
 in his look gave her new courage. With 
 such a devoted friend as this at hand she felt 
 that escape was possible, although at present 
 she could not imagine hy what means it 
 might be effected. 
 
 ''If you can risk your life in my hands 
 I may save you." 
 
 " I am ready," was the firm response. 
 
 '' Then watch you the door and give me 
 timely notice if any one approaches." 
 
 '' What are you about to do ? " 
 
 ''To break your prison bars; then with 
 this rope, your Hfe dependent on my arms, 
 we will reach the ground. Not far hence 
 Andrew waits with horses, and we can be 
 far upon the road to safety before your 
 absence is discovered. Do not speak more 
 now, for every instant is precious." 
 
 She obeyed, and passing over to the door 
 remained there listening. He produced a 
 strong armourer's file, and, still hanging by 
 the rope, began to work upon the centre bar
 
 THE RIGHT-HAND GAUNTLET. 97 
 
 of the grating. His was a strong hand ; 
 and it was doubly strong now, for it was 
 inspired by the grateful and affectionate 
 memories of a noble heart. So he worked 
 cautiously and stoutly, forgetful of the abyss 
 beneath his feet, and that the slightest 
 relaxation of his hold upon the rope would 
 hurl him into the jaws of death. 
 
 The wind, cold and keen, whistled by 
 him and around the tower as he worked, 
 and its shrill cries deadened the grating 
 sound of the file. 
 
 Gilbert, having played the part of pack- 
 man in the hall with so much discretion 
 that even Tushielaw had not had any sus- 
 picion of a trick, was conducted by Yetholm 
 Will to the chamber — or rather cupboard 
 — which had been called the rook's nest. 
 The name was given to it on account of its 
 proximity to the roof; and indeed a dozen 
 respectable crows would have filled it nicely. 
 
 There was barely room enough for a man 
 of average height to lie down straight. It 
 was square, the roof low, and the light-hole 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 98 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 — it could not be called a window — not 
 more than two feet square. There was a 
 stone seat in a recess of the wall, a small 
 table, and a bundle of dried reeds at one 
 side. The light-hole was crossed by one 
 strong iron bar ; the walls were naked and 
 cold-looking, and the atmosphere of the 
 nest was that of a prison. 
 
 *'This is your kennel, frienV' said Will, 
 about to close the door. " Gude nicht." 
 
 *^ An' a soun' sleep till ye," bellowed the 
 big voice of the dwarf from the dark pas- 
 sage. ^' If ye hae a mind to flee awa' afore 
 mornin', ye can jist drap out o' the hole, 
 and ye'll gang doon at a fine rate, I'se 
 warrant ye. Haw, haw — ho ! " 
 
 ** Thanks, frien's, but I'm owre wearied 
 to try tricks o' thet sort," said the feigned 
 packman. 
 
 The red head of the dwarf appeared be- 
 tween the legs of Yetholm Will. 
 
 ^' Gif ye should try it," cried Hornie, 
 ^' ye'll pass the roun' chamber on the road, 
 whar ye can look in an' see the bonny
 
 THE EIGHT-HAND GAUNTLET. 99 
 
 '^ Hand your daumed tongue," cried Will, 
 catching the little man by the neck and 
 dragging him away. 
 
 Gilbert heard the stout oaken door locked, 
 and the hoarse laugh of Hornie as the two 
 descended to the hall. 
 
 He lost no time in preparing for the 
 accomplishment of his purpose. He opened 
 the pack which had tempted the cupidity of 
 the borderers, and took out of it a long rope. 
 He secured the pack again, and immediately 
 tested the strength of the iron bar across 
 the light-hole : it was strong enough to 
 sustain thrice his weight without bending. 
 With his poignard and the file he removed 
 the bar from its sockets, secured the rope 
 to it, and then mounting upon the table 
 squeezed himself through the hole feet 
 foremost. 
 
 Clinging to the mason- work, and, without 
 once looking downward, he placed the bar 
 across the hole inside and then trusted him- 
 self to the descent. 
 
 But he had little more than discovered
 
 100 THE BRAES OF YAEROW. 
 
 the window lie risked so mucli to discover 
 when the lock of the door of the rook's nest 
 was stealthily turned. A pause, and, after, 
 the door was slowly pushed open. There 
 was no light to show by whom the door had 
 been opened, or to reveal that the rook had 
 taken wing. 
 
 The stealthy comer groped about the 
 chamber and presently overturned the table. 
 Whereat the voice of Ding-a'-doon sung 
 out gruffly — 
 
 '* What's the gowk doin' ? " 
 
 a There's something wrang," answered 
 Yetholm Will, '' for there's naebody here." 
 
 An oath from Pate, and a light was pro- 
 cured by Eddie Craig. They saw at once 
 what had happened, and Hornie came roll- 
 ing up the stairs in time to laugh at their 
 confusion. 
 
 " He has left the pack, though," the 
 dwarf said, with a cunning leer in his 
 strange eyes. 
 
 '^An' that's a' we want," added Eddie 
 Craig, as he proceeded to break open the 
 packman's store.
 
 THE KIGHT-HAND GAUNTLET. 101 
 
 The pack was found to be of stronger 
 stuff than they had expected, and they were 
 occupied several minutes in forcing it open. 
 That done, the contents were revealed. 
 
 A number of stones, and a quantity of 
 small sticks and furze ! 
 
 Ding-a'-doon swore ; Eddie and Will 
 looked as if they had been cheated out of 
 fair spoil ; and Hornie sat upon the worth- 
 less pack, laughing as if it had been a 
 capital joke. 
 
 There was a rush to the light-hole. The 
 rope was discovered to be heavy, as with 
 the weight of a man. 
 
 ^* Deevil confound him ; he'll pay for the 
 trick," growled Pate. 
 
 With a few swift crosses of his knife, he 
 cut the rope from its fastening. The iron 
 bar fell inward ; the rope went down, and 
 the three men grinned with satisfaction. 
 
 ^' We'll gang doon and see what's come 
 o* him," said Pate, with much the same 
 tone as that with which an ordinary man 
 might have asked a friend out for an even- 
 ing stroll, only much gruffer.
 
 102 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 As the men were passing from the com- 
 partment there was a sharp whistle. Pate 
 wheeled about, and saw Hornie swinging on 
 the ledge of the light-hole by his long arms. 
 
 ^' What are ye whistling for, Beelzebub ? '* 
 
 '*The ghaist o' the packman, Clootie,'* 
 returned the dwarf promptly. 
 
 A queer expression of half rage, half fear, 
 passed over the countenance of Ding-a'- 
 doon. Then, after a moment's hesitation, 
 he followed his companions, leaving Hornie 
 in darkness.
 
 ( 103 ) 
 
 CHAPTEE VII. 
 
 THE PACKMAN AND THE FBIAE. 
 
 " I curse and blame generally 
 All them that love in villane, 
 For villanie makith villaine, 
 And by his dedes a chorle is seine. 
 These villains arme without pite, 
 Friendship, and love, and all bounte.'* 
 
 Bomaunt of the Rose. 
 
 Gilbert had escaped the destruction in- 
 tended for the packman. He had suc- 
 ceeded in filing through the centre bar, 
 and just when the rope was cut he had 
 laid hold of another bar in order to wrench 
 the centre one from the upper socket in 
 the masonry. By this lucky movement 
 he wa^s saved, and when the rope came 
 tumthng about his shoulders he understood
 
 104 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 that his escape from the nest had been 
 discovered- 
 Then he heard the dwarf's whistle, and 
 he seemed to accept it as a warning ; for 
 he thereupon exerted his utmost strength 
 to wrench off the bar he had broken. He 
 succeeded, drew himself up, and, panting 
 with his effort, rested upon the ledge of 
 the window. 
 
 He coiled up the rope, and in doing so 
 peered down from his eyrie into the abyss 
 from which he had so narrowly escaped. 
 The gloom which hung over the fosse 
 added to the appearance of its depth, and 
 made the sight one to quicken the pulse 
 of the bravest heart, and to wring from it 
 a prayer of thanks to Heaven for its 
 mercy. 
 
 Another whistle : this time from Delow. 
 Gilbert sprung into the chamber and 
 hastily closed the sash. 
 
 Lady Margaret observed his movtoents 
 with bewildered curiosity. \ 
 
 *^Is all hope lost?" she whispered, 
 breathless.
 
 THE PACKMAN AND THE FRIAR. 105 
 
 " Not yet — we are only interrupted. 
 
 *'It is — it is all lost," she moaned, start- 
 ing. '^ The noise of your entrance has been 
 heard — Tushielaw is returning." 
 
 Gilbert clutched the iron bar fiercely, 
 as if his first thought had been to meet 
 the Border Chief with that weapon. But 
 the remembrance of his helplessness against 
 the combined forces of Tushielaw caused 
 him to cast the first thought from him at 
 once. His life was precious for his lady's 
 sake. 
 
 '* Courage and be calm," he whispered, 
 as he glided behind one of the hangings, 
 carefully taking with him the rope coiled 
 round his arm, and the bar of iron. 
 
 The hangings had scarcely ceased to 
 rustle. Lady Margaret had scarcely reached 
 a seat, when the door opened, and Simon 
 the friar entered, with his cowl drawn over 
 his head. 
 
 His demeanour had not its ordinary jovial 
 swagger ; his gait was steadier — more polite, 
 one would say — and there was apparent
 
 106 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 more than the usual degree of cunning in 
 his smile. 
 
 Thus, then, he advanced to her ladyship, 
 who regarded him with amaze, and a degree 
 of instinctive fear. This latter sentiment 
 checked all the pleasure she might have 
 felt in seeing one of his holy office in that 
 place, for it dispelled all the hope of as- 
 sistance from his hands she might have 
 entertained. 
 
 ** Salve, daughter," said the friar, raising 
 his hand gently. 
 
 She bowed her head to the benediction, 
 rising at the same time from her chair. 
 
 ** You are weakly, daughter; retain your 
 seat there, whilst I try to comfort you in 
 your distress." 
 
 There was a certain kindliness in his tone 
 which, together with the character of his 
 office, was gradually overcoming her first 
 impression. 
 
 ** Alas, father, what comfort can you give 
 me here ?" 
 
 *' Is the place so hateful to you, then ? "
 
 THE PACKMAN AND THE FRIAR. 107 
 
 ''Need you ask?'' 
 
 *'I could not know else. But being so, 
 take comfort in the knowledge that you will 
 be free to leave it soon." 
 
 " Free ? When ? '' 
 
 " Two hours hence.'' 
 
 She was about to throw herself at his 
 feet to give him thanks, when she met his 
 cold eyes glistening watchfully out from 
 beneath his cowl. She checked herself, for 
 the eyes recalled an indistinct memory that 
 chilled her heart. She pressed her hand 
 upon her brow bewilderedly. 
 
 He observed her hesitation, and spoke as 
 if offended — 
 
 **Do you doubt me — do you doubt the 
 Church of which I am an unworthy but 
 faithful servant? " 
 
 "■ No, no, no, I do not — I dared not doubt 
 that; but " 
 
 '' But you doubt me. I am sorry, 
 daughter ; and the more so, for that I 
 cannot serve you since you will not trust 
 me."
 
 108 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 "I will — I will trust you," she cried 
 falteringly ; and fearing to lose help, the 
 extent of which she could not divine, she 
 promised trust, even when her heart 
 doubted most. 
 
 " I am glad of that. Now you will hear 
 me." 
 
 *^ I am waiting, you cannot know with 
 how much anxiety, to know the full mean- 
 ing of your words. You said I should be 
 free." 
 
 *^ And you shall be, when you are mistress 
 of Tushielaw." 
 
 She drew back with a cry of pain and 
 repugnance. 
 
 '* Ah, sir, it does not become you to mock 
 at misery." 
 
 *^ Soh ! you do not like the union. Well, 
 I can save you." 
 
 ^^ You can?" 
 
 ^^ And will ; but first let me deliver my 
 commission. The Master of Tushielaw 
 sent me to you to bid you prepare for a 
 hasty espousal in the chapel of the Tower 
 two hours hence."
 
 THE PACKMAN AND THE FRIAR. 109 
 
 " And in that time you have promised to 
 set me free ? " 
 
 *^ I have promised, and will observe my 
 word ; but you must be prepared to trust 
 me wholly, and in return to serve one who 
 is near to you." 
 
 He bent slightly towards her as he spoke, 
 his eyes fixed searchingly upon her, and 
 with, as it seemed, altogether more eager- 
 ness in his manner than the occasion de- 
 manded. 
 
 ^* One who is near to me,'' she said, 
 trying to make out his meaning. 
 
 ^' Yes, daughter, one who is near and 
 dear to you, I trust," he rejoined, fingering 
 the cords of his gown nervously ; and added 
 hastily, as if afraid of being misunderstood 
 or understood too well, ^*I speak in sweet 
 charity's name, my daughter." 
 
 '^ I do not understand." 
 
 ^' I will be plain, then. It becomes my 
 office, so far as my frail power can go, to 
 be a peacemaker ; and surely it is well to 
 be the maker of peace, the healer of dis-
 
 110 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 sension between those whom ties of kindred 
 and blood should bind together in this 
 world in unity. I speak, lady, of your 
 brother." 
 
 She turned away her face, which crim- 
 soned as with shame. 
 
 "You mean my father's son," she said, 
 huskily. 
 
 "And your brother; although not born 
 of one mother, the kinship is binding in 
 the eyes of the Church ; and in the 
 Church's name I charge you cast away all 
 maUce." 
 
 She turned to him with a proud sad 
 look. 
 
 "He whom you call my brother has 
 sinned so deeply that he is an outcast in 
 the eyes of all men. My father dying 
 cursed him ; he was my husband's enemy, 
 and therefore mine, and withal I yearn 
 towards him and pity him. Were he near 
 me I would shun him, for I fear him. But 
 could my poor strength help him to a 
 better life you would see how gladly I
 
 THE PACKMAN AND THE FHIAR. Ill 
 
 should serve him. This is not malice, 
 father." 
 
 The friar spoke hastily, lowering his voice 
 to a whisper. 
 
 " A new, a better life is before him — you 
 and you only can help him to it — will you 
 refuse ? " 
 
 " Show me the means," she said, warmly. 
 
 '* You shall hear. But be not startled, 
 strange as my proposition may appear. 
 
 'Glisten." 
 
 *^ Tushielaw — he who would make you 
 his wife — holds your brother so strongly 
 in his grasp that he cannot escape him,* 
 cannot hope to rise above the mire of per- 
 dition into which he has sunk till you 
 stretch forth your hand and hft him up. 
 WiU you refuse ? " 
 
 " Show me the means," she repeated, 
 firmly. 
 
 *^ Haste, then, to place your brother in 
 position to defy his evil master ; you must 
 to-night in seeming — only in seeming, re- 
 member — give your hand to Tushielaw."
 
 112 THE BRAES OF YAEKOW. 
 
 With a subdued cry she shrunk back. 
 He continued quickly — 
 
 **I shall perform the ceremony, but in 
 such wise that it will place no bond upon 
 you. You will not refuse?" 
 
 She covered her face with her hands, 
 affrighted as much by the strange eager- 
 ness of the friar as by his proposition. 
 
 *^ Oh, I cannot, I cannot do this," she 
 sobbed. ** It would be blasphemy." 
 
 ^' I will absolve you. Kemember, it is 
 to serve your brother." 
 
 Bewildered and affrighted she cowered 
 down, unable to answer ; and during the 
 anxious pause a half-stifled sigh was heard 
 in the room. 
 
 The friar glanced quickly around, and 
 saw the hangings rustle. 
 
 Lady Margaret looked at him with a re- 
 solute dignity expressed upon her troubled 
 countenance. 
 
 "Even to save him, I cannot peril my 
 own soul." 
 
 " Think, think again, and remember all 
 that depends upon your answer."
 
 THE PACKMAK AND THE FRIAR. 113 
 
 '^I remember all, and I have answered.'' 
 
 ^^ Is there no gleam of memory, of pity, 
 of love, to make you risk so little to gain 
 so much?" 
 
 "I will not consent to this." 
 
 *^ Then blame yourself for all that fol- 
 lows," he cried angrily, as he clutched her 
 by the wrist and attempted to drag her 
 from the room. 
 
 The hangings were torn asunder, and 
 Gilbert Elliot stood between the friar 
 and the door. 
 
 There was a moment of hesitation and 
 surprise. Then Mess Simon drew the lady' 
 quickly behind him, and taking from 
 beneath the folds of his clerkly gown a 
 poignard, sprang with the swiftness of 
 a tiger upon the champion. The latter, 
 however, stepped nimbly aside and tripped 
 his assailant, who fell heavily to the 
 ground. 
 
 Gilbert swung the iron bar he had 
 wrenched from the window above his 
 head, and in his passion would have 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 despatclied Mess Simon without any ques- 
 tioning had not Lady Spens thrown her- 
 self before him with a cry of horror. 
 
 In the scuffle the cowl had fallen from 
 the friar's head, and something she ob- 
 served in the strange face of the man 
 made her his protector in this moment of 
 peril. 
 
 '' No, no, no," she cried wildly, '^ do not 
 you strike him.'" 
 
 A minute Gilbert hesitated, then quietly 
 obeyed. He lowered his weapon to the 
 ground. 
 
 ^' You protect him ? "he said, wondering. 
 
 *^ Yes^ yes ; but do not ask me why. 
 Let us away at once, if you have still 
 the means of escape." 
 
 '^ I will not question since it is yom- 
 wish, and since delay spoils all. I think 
 the coast is clear now down yonder, and 
 we can go. But first we will make this 
 ruffian harmless. 
 
 The friar had been partly stunned by 
 his fall, and Gilbert without difficulty
 
 THE PACKMAN AND THE FRIAR. llo 
 
 bound his wrists and feet securely to- 
 gether. That done, he tore a strip of 
 cloth from one of the hangings, and 
 stuffed it into the mouth of his late 
 assailant. Then, moving rapidly and 
 stealthily, he piled the chairs against the 
 door. Next, he tied an end of the rope 
 to one of the massive bedposts ; and again 
 secured the rope to the bar of iron, so that 
 the latter should catch in the masonry of 
 the window. 
 
 Thus, having made doubly sure of the 
 fastenings, he placed the table beneath 
 the window, and, after extinguishing the 
 cruzie, he peered out into the night. 
 
 He descried only darkness and the glim- 
 mering snow ; he heard no sound save 
 that of the wind and the running waters 
 beneath. 
 
 He threw the rope down, and turned to 
 the lady. Pallid as the snow without, and 
 with a world of anguish expressed upon 
 her face, she was kneeling beside the 
 prostrate friar, gazing upon him piteously.
 
 116 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 A shade of doubt passed over Gilbert's 
 face, and there was a degree of displeasure 
 in his tone as he said abruptly — 
 
 ^^Now, lady, I am ready — our lives de- 
 pend upon our speed." 
 
 With a peculiar solemnity of manner, 
 she touched the friar's brow. The latter, 
 returning slowly to consciousness, fixed his 
 heavy eyes upon her, with a cruel smile 
 of hate. She drew away from him, and 
 placed her trembhng hand in Gilbert's. 
 He grasped it with anxious eagerness, 
 and, raising her in his arms, stepped 
 Kghtly upon the table, then upon the 
 ledge of the window. He buckled a 
 broad leathern belt around her waist, and, 
 gripping it firmly, intrusted himself and 
 his precious burthen to the strength of 
 the rope. 
 
 The darkness favoured them. They 
 reached the ground in safety, and sped to 
 the thicket, where Andrew waited with 
 the horses. Lady Spens was mounted 
 behind Gilbert, and the horses' heads were
 
 THE packman: and the friar. 117 
 
 turned toward Selkirk, at the same time 
 that the door of the round chamber was 
 burst open by Tushielaw, and the plight 
 of his ambassador and the escape of his 
 prize discovered.
 
 118 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 CHAPTEK VIII. 
 
 FLYING AND SEEKING. 
 
 " Lamentations heard i' tlie air." 
 
 Macbeth. 
 
 A DULL grey haze was rising from the 
 ground and indicating the approach of 
 daylight when the fugitives reached Mer- 
 lin's Cairn. They did not know whether 
 or not they had been followed, but as they 
 had made a detour in order to baffle their 
 pursuers, the chase in the darkness must 
 have been carried on at a disadvantage. 
 
 When she descried the house of the 
 cairn the heart of Lady Spens bounded 
 with unutterable joy. She would be re- 
 stored to her child now ; they would fly 
 on to Edinburgh, and there she would
 
 FLYING AND SEEKING. 119 
 
 throw herself upon the protection of her 
 former mistress, the Queen Dowager, and 
 with her help be able to set Tushielaw 
 and all his power at defiance. She did 
 not doubt for an instant that her Majesty 
 would refuse to believe her assertion of 
 her own and her husband's innocence 
 of aU thought of treachery to the royal 
 cause. 
 
 They could see no sign of a light burn- 
 ing within the house. Gilbert, however, 
 knocked loudly upon the door, and they 
 waited patiently for it to be opened. 
 
 But there came no answer, no sound 
 to indicate that the house was inhabited. 
 Gilbert knocked again, more loudly this 
 time, and with a certain degree of puzzle- 
 ment in his mind. There was still no 
 answer, and at length they were forced 
 to the conclusion that the house was un- 
 tenanted. 
 
 Gilbert quieted the anxious fears of her 
 ladyship. 
 
 ^^ Do not fear, madam ; the bairn is
 
 120 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 safe," he said confidently; ^^ safer than if 
 we had found her here, for she is on the 
 way to Edinburgh." 
 
 He pronounced his words confidently 
 enough, but in his heart he feared that 
 they might prove false. This was cer- 
 tainly the day on which he had charged 
 the ChevaHer Night, in the event of his 
 failing to return, to convey the little Alice 
 to the capital. But it was yet very early 
 in the day, and so he dreaded that some 
 new mischance had occurred. However, 
 circumstances of which he was yet igno- 
 rant might have compelled the Chevalier 
 to move northward sooner than was in- 
 tended. With this hope he buoyed him- 
 self up, and was able to speak cheeringly 
 to the anxious mother. 
 
 They hastened on to Selkirk. The royal 
 burgh, with its straggling houses and 
 irregular architecture, had usually a quaint 
 homely air, suggestive of comfort and 
 honest work. But when our three friends 
 passed up the banks of the Ettrick and
 
 FLYmG AND SEEKING. 121 
 
 entered the town on this December morn- 
 ing of 1513, the place had a dishevelled 
 look like that of a woman who sits down 
 with hair cast loose and dress disarranged, 
 lamenting the loss of father, husband, or 
 children. 
 
 This, in truth, was the position of 
 Selkirk on that day ; for of the hundred 
 sturdy burghers — made up of souters and 
 weavers — who had followed the town- 
 clerk, "William Brydone, to the field of 
 Flodden, only about twenty had yet re- 
 turned to cast the town in mourning for 
 its own and Scotland's heavy losses. Bry- 
 done, however, was amongst those who 
 had returned, and with a noble, albeit sad 
 heart, had set himself to work to give 
 what consolation he might to the afflicted 
 ones. In this he was not a little assisted 
 by the merry- eyed weaver, who brought 
 from the hard-fought field an English 
 standard as a token of his own and his 
 comrades' worth. 
 
 Everywhere there were indications of
 
 122 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 disorder, and even the Sonter's hostelry 
 in the ancient market-place had a melan- 
 choly look. 
 
 But Gilbert delayed here no longer than 
 was necessary to afford Lady Spens an 
 hour's rest and to procure fresh horses. 
 They were soon upon the road again ; and 
 having now a comparatively even way, 
 they made good speed to Edinburgh, 
 where they arrived towards afternoon, and 
 took up temporary quarters near the foot 
 of the Cowgate. 
 
 They desired as far as possible — or rather 
 Lady Spens desired — to remain unrecog- 
 nized until she had obtained audience of 
 the Queen Eegent. For this reason, in- 
 stead of seeking out friends, they hired 
 quiet lodgings, up three flights of stairs, 
 of a little prim old lady, who was very 
 particular to have a portion of the rent 
 paid in advance. 
 
 Fatigued as she was by the jom^ney and 
 by troublous thought. Lady Spens would 
 have hurried to the Palace at once had not
 
 PLYING AND SEEKING. 123 
 
 Gilbert persuaded her to delay till the 
 morning. His persuasion was successful 
 only when she remembered the words of 
 Tushielaw — that her husband had been 
 condemned by a secret commission, and 
 that the lives of herself and her child were 
 in peril. 
 
 " But you — you will prove his innocence ; 
 you will point out the guilty one, and 
 redeem my husband's honour from the 
 stigma which now rests upon it," she said 
 softly; and laying her hand upon Gilbert's 
 arm, looked up confidently into his face. 
 
 ^^ I have sworn to do it," he said with 
 quiet firmness. 
 
 Her fingers tightened gently upon his 
 arm, and a faint sad smile illumed her face. 
 That was his thanks, and he was satisfied. 
 
 He had set himself a difficult task — that 
 of solving the mystery of her husband's fate 
 and of all the treachery that had surrounded 
 the King at Flodden. He recognized the 
 difficulty, but with the sanguineness of 
 youth he never doubted that sooner or
 
 124 THE BRAES OF YARROA\^ 
 
 later lie would achieve his object. And 
 then ? He did not know what then ; but 
 he looked yearningly toward the lady for 
 whom he had already risked so much and 
 to whose service he had devoted his 
 life. 
 
 To ascertain how far the name of Spens 
 was compromised in the eyes of the citizens, 
 and if possible to discover the chances of 
 obtaining audience with the Queen, he at 
 length sallied forth. Her ladyship had gone 
 to rest, and the faithful old servitor Andrew 
 remained to watch over her. 
 
 The snow, trodden hard by men and 
 horses, rendered walking somewhat dan- 
 gerous, and the faint light given by the 
 feeble oil lamps scarcely served any purpose 
 beyond that of showing the dense white fog 
 which had gathered over the city on the hill. 
 This was the night for careful burghers to 
 coddle themselves up at their firesides and 
 to keep safe within doors ; for convivial 
 burghers to share the jest and gossip of the 
 tavern kitchen, and to become a prey to
 
 FLYING AND SEEKING. 125 
 
 lurking foodpads as they staggered home- 
 ward. 
 
 Gilbert turned up Blackfriars' Wynd, and 
 he observed as he passed the Chancellor's 
 house that there were busy doings within, 
 judging by the illumination of the windows. 
 And, in truth, there were busy doings, for 
 Hamilton, Earl of Arran, had arrived that 
 afternoon and taken up his quarters with 
 Archbishop Beaton ; and as he was accom- 
 panied by his chief kinsmen and officers, 
 with a fair number of rentallers and common 
 followers, there was much bustle and feast- 
 ing in the house. 
 
 Gilbert proceeded up the Wynd, and as 
 he emerged into the High Street, a detach- 
 ment of the City Guard passed without per- 
 ceiving him. He turned towards the Cross, 
 and presently entered the hostelry of St. 
 Andrew's Eest. 
 
 The change from the darkness of the 
 street to the bright light of the tavern was 
 so sudden that for a minute he could dis- 
 cern nothing beyond a confusion of voices 
 and a crowd of men.
 
 126 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 He soon became accustomed to the 
 change, however, and discovered that the 
 company was composed of soldiers, drovers, 
 and citizens, divided into groups, each 
 gossiping of its own special topic of interest. 
 An enormous fire burning on the hearth 
 gave the chamber warmth and an air of 
 comfort despite the wetness of the unflagged 
 floor, upon which the snow from the guests' 
 feet dissolved as it was shaken off, and 
 slowly became absorbed in the earth, or 
 formed into a tiny pool in some hollow 
 place. Sundry flanks of bacon hanging 
 from the roof intimated broadly that hungry 
 men with a few groats in their pockets need 
 not remain long unsatisfied. 
 
 The neat-handed, fat-faced hostess speedily 
 served Gilbert with a flagon of mulled wine, 
 and seating himself at the end of one of the 
 tables he sipped and listened. 
 
 He did not wait long before the matter 
 w^hich interested him was touched. 
 
 A ferrety-eyed fussy little man in snuff- 
 brown garments broke the ice by demanding
 
 FLYINO AND SEEKING. 127 
 
 of one of the soldiers if he had been at 
 Modden. 
 
 There was a hill in the conversation of all 
 those who heard the question, and although 
 all fear of an English invasion was past, 
 although the people had already begun in 
 some degree to recover from the shock of 
 the ill-fated battle, the mention of it was 
 yet sufficient to call forth scowling and 
 sorrowful wagging of heads. 
 
 '^ Ay, maister, I hae been there," was the 
 soldier's response, '^ an' I'm no proud to say 
 that I hae come back again." 
 
 "An' were ye near the King?" witli 
 loyal eagerness queried a brawny northern 
 drover. 
 
 " Sir," said the fussy little man, looking 
 at the northman with dignified reproval, 
 ^^I'm Deacon Simpson, and I'm speaking 
 tae this gentleman." 
 
 " Atweel, man, I didna say that ye wasna 
 speaking till him." 
 
 '^No, I was nae near him," said the 
 soldier; " but I'm tauld that some traitor's
 
 128 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 cantrips lost tlie day for us and made awa' 
 wi' the King." 
 
 '^And wha was the traitor?" demanded 
 the drover. 
 
 ^' I canna tell ye that. Some say Lord 
 Home, hnt I'll no believe that." 
 
 Deacon Simpson looked as if he could 
 have enlightened them on the subject, but 
 would not. 
 
 ^' Maybe ye ken, Maister Deacon," sug- 
 gested the soldier. 
 
 *^ I'm no sure ; but I could tell ye wha is 
 tae suffer for't, whilk would no be a bad 
 indication o' wha was the traitor." 
 
 *' Wha is to suffer ? " queried several. 
 
 ^' Is it Wat Spens ? " queried others. 
 
 The deacon pursed his lips and looked 
 mysterious. 
 
 ^^ I'm very sorry, neebors, but I canna 
 answer ye." 
 
 " Then I wiU," said a man at the farther 
 end of the table in a loud voice. 
 
 All eyes were turned upon him, and, 
 despite his disguise as a common drover.
 
 FLYIXG AND SEEKING. 129 
 
 Gilbert recognized Tashielaw, and at the 
 same time became aware that the jovial- 
 visaged man who sat beside the borderer 
 was scanning his features narrowly. He 
 raised his cup to his lips, thereby concealing 
 his featm^es to some extent. 
 
 The deacon methodically scratched his 
 head and examined the borderer with the 
 air of a sage puzzled. 
 
 *' An' wha may ye be, sir, that speak wi' 
 sae muckle authority ? " 
 
 ^^Do you want to know the name of the 
 villain who betrayed our King?" said 
 Tushielaw fiercely, looking around and un- 
 heeding the representative of civic authority. 
 
 *^Ay, tell us that if ye can," cried the 
 company. 
 
 '' Then it was Wat Spens of Halstane." 
 
 Gilbert sprang to his feet with the im- 
 pulsive resolve to throw the lie back in the 
 man's teeth. But there was a murmur of 
 rage and hate from all present which 
 checked him. There was no surprise in 
 the murmur, only bitter execration. The 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 name of Sir Walter Spons had already been 
 publicly pronounced as that of the traitor 
 upon whose shoulders was laid the burthen 
 of all the misfortunes of the recent struggle. 
 
 Gilbert turned sadly away, paid his score 
 to the hostess, and left the house. It would 
 have been worse than useless to have 
 attempted there to defend his friend. 
 
 As he passed from the hostelry, and whilst 
 the gossips still groaned with rage at the 
 tidings they had received, Tushielaw turned 
 quickly to his companion, and in an under- 
 tone — 
 
 " Was that our man ? " 
 
 The other nodded affirmatively. 
 
 '^Fiends, and you have allowed him to 
 go." 
 
 ^^But not far — he is at the door still. I 
 am ready." 
 
 ^'He must not escape us, come w^hat will." 
 
 He of the jovial visage nodded again, and, 
 drawing his heavy cloak tightly around his 
 throat, he followed Tushielaw from the 
 tavern after a hearty good night to the 
 company.
 
 FLYINa AND SEEKING. 131 
 
 Fury at the cruel and infamous charge 
 made against an innocent man was not the 
 only passion which disturbed Gilbert Elliot 
 as he left the hostelry of St. Andrew's Kest. 
 
 He was sorely concerned for the safety 
 of Lady Spens, whose presence in the city 
 became doubly perilous now that Tushielaw 
 had arrived, and having with him a com- 
 panion who, Gilbert concluded rightly, was 
 none other than the false friar he had 
 handled so roughly in the round chamber 
 of the tower. 
 
 He was not in any way concerned about 
 his own safety ; his whole mind was occu- 
 pied in devising means to secure the safety 
 of Lady Margaret, and of Utfcle Alice when 
 she was found. 
 
 Busy with this riddle, he moved at a 
 rapid pace toward the Netherbow Port. 
 He scarcely knew the direction he had 
 taken, and the dense fog concealed the 
 landmarks which might have reminded him 
 that he was moving away from the resting- 
 place of her ladyship.
 
 132 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 A dark figure passed under one of the 
 feeble lamps, noiselessly and swiftly. When 
 a few steps in advance of him the figure 
 slackened its pace, and without looking 
 round, spoke. 
 
 *^ Do not start or make any sign that I 
 am speaking to you. I am a friend. You 
 are followed by those who mean you harm. 
 Can you risk yourself with me ? " 
 
 '^ Who are you?" 
 
 '^ I have said a friend." 
 
 *' You have said so." 
 
 *^ And you desire proof? " 
 
 " Surely." 
 
 " And I have none to give you here, ex- 
 cept my word, that I am your friend, Gilbert 
 Elliot, and the friend of Walter Spens." 
 
 '^ You know me?" 
 
 * ^ Yes. Will you follow me ? " 
 
 '^Whither?" 
 
 '^You shall see." 
 
 ^^ At what risk?" 
 
 *' Not so much risk as you will have in 
 turning back."
 
 FLYING AND SEEKING. 133 
 
 ^^ Go on — I take you." 
 
 ^^ Follow me close, and do not hesitate to 
 pass wherever I lead." 
 
 The figure was that of a man, and he 
 quickened his pace again till he reached the 
 Port. The sentinel challenged him, and 
 the mysterious guide whispered some words 
 in the man's ear. 
 
 A postern was hastily opened, and the 
 stranger passed through, with Gilbert at 
 his heels. The postern closed instantly. 
 They were now in Canongate, which was 
 at that time a burgh, mdependent of the- 
 city, under the charter of David I. The 
 pious monarch, as the legend runs, was 
 marvellously saved from the attack of a 
 furious stag in Drumselch (to-day, Drum- 
 sheuch) by the intervention of a mysterious 
 cross, and in token of gratitude founded 
 the Abbey of the Holy Eood, and, amongst 
 numerous other privileges to its canons, the 
 power of erecting a burgh between the 
 Abbey and the Netherbow Poi-t. 
 
 They had not gone many yards down
 
 134 THE BKAES OF YARROW. 
 
 Canongate when they heard the sentinel 
 of the Port give out his challenge again. 
 They heard the postern open slowly, and 
 their pace was quickened. 
 
 Suddenly Gilbert's singular guide gripped 
 him by the arm and dragged him into a 
 dark passage. Gilbert had scarcely time 
 to lay his hand upon his sword, when a 
 door was opened and he was dragged in- 
 side, just as he had been dragged into the 
 passage. 
 
 The door closed, and hasty footsteps, as 
 if in pursuit of some one, passed down the 
 close or wynd. 
 
 Gilbert's arm was still in the grasp of 
 his mysterious friend, but he could see 
 nothing, as they were in darkness profound. 
 
 *^You hear," said the mysterious one, 
 as the footsteps passed, ^' they are seeking 
 you." 
 
 "And I, coward-like, have been flying 
 them. I will go at once." 
 
 He was interrupted by a firm but kindly 
 voice.
 
 FLYING AND SEEKING. 135 
 
 *^ Nay, nay, Master Gilbert, there is better 
 work for you to do. Step warily." 
 
 They descended a steep narrow staircase, 
 and then Gilbert followed his guide along 
 a narrow passage, at the end of which 
 a door opened and admitted them into a 
 small square chamber, which was illumined 
 by the subdued light of a closed lantern 
 hanging from the roof. 
 
 Everything combined to add so much to 
 the mystery which surrounded his strange 
 friend, that Gilbert's bewilderment increased 
 every instant. He now, however, availed 
 himself of the light to examine his guide. 
 He discovered little by his inspection, for 
 the face was turned from him, and the 
 figure was enveloped in a large mantle 
 reaching to the heels. 
 
 Presently the hat and cloak were thrown 
 aside, and Gilbert recognized the Chevalier 
 Night, whose head was still covered by the 
 skull-cap and his face by the black mask.
 
 136 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 A SECRET MISSION. 
 
 *' As the plain path to their design appears, 
 Of whose wish'd sight they had been long debarr'd, 
 By the dissolving of those threat'ning fears 
 That many a purpose, many a plot, had marr'd ; 
 Their hope at full so heartily them cheers, 
 And their protection by a stronger guard 
 
 Lends them that leisure the events to cast 
 Of things to come by those already past." 
 
 Drayton. 
 
 '* You are amazed," said the Chevalier, in 
 his low voice ; " but you mil understand 
 all by-and-by ; at present I can explain no- 
 thing." 
 
 ^^ I do not seek your confidence, sir; but 
 I pray you acquaint me where is the child 
 I trusted to your care ? "
 
 A SECRET MISSION. 137 
 
 " Safe and well. I was compelled to 
 leave the cairn sooner than I anticipated, 
 and, dreading accident, brought the bairn 
 with me. To-morrow I should have com- 
 pleted my promise to you by sending her 
 to the Queen." 
 
 *' You have not done so yet — then she is 
 here?" 
 
 ^^ Not here." 
 
 ''Where, then?" 
 
 '' I will take you to her." 
 
 **Let it be at once, for without her the 
 poor lady her mother is without hope." 
 
 '' Is Lady Spens in Edinburgh ? " 
 
 The ChevaHer's voice faltered a little 
 here. 
 
 '' Yes ; we arrived this afternoon." 
 
 '' There is danger on every hand to her 
 life and honour." 
 
 ''We know it; but she will obtain the 
 Queen's protection." 
 
 " I am not sure of that. Listen; the body 
 of Walter Spens has not been found yet ; 
 it is suspected that he lives."
 
 138 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 " Impossible. He would have made him- 
 self known to me or to his wife." 
 
 The Chevalier shook his head sadly* 
 ^^ He is condemned to tortm^e and to death ; 
 but more, all those who give him shelter, 
 or even know that he lives without deliver- 
 ing him up, are condemned to a like punish- 
 ment. He might conceal himself from yoUy 
 and even from his wife, lest any accident 
 should betray your knowledge, and bring 
 upon you the fate undeserved by you and 
 by him. Lady Spens is suspected, is sought 
 for, and every hour she remains in Scotland 
 adds to her peril." 
 
 " She will not leave Scotland till her 
 husband's honour is redeemed." 
 
 The Chevalier seemed to reflect. Pre- 
 sently — 
 
 ^^ Her only hope of safety, then, rests 
 in the Queen's protection, and I fear that 
 may be difficult to obtain now." 
 
 ^^ And wherefore ? " 
 
 *^ Because the Queen herself is under the 
 influence of Douglas, Earl of Angus, and
 
 A SECRET MISSION. 139 
 
 through him Scott of Tushielaw has ob- 
 tained the lands of Spens/' 
 
 ^' The lands of Spens gifted to Tushie- 
 law?" 
 
 *^ Even so." 
 
 " This is monstrous." 
 
 ^'But the Lords in Council have decreed 
 it, and we must bow to the law till we 
 can show its injustice, or become strong 
 enough to overthrow it. You see, I have 
 thought much of these matters, and I think 
 you may credit me as a friend of the house 
 of Spens." 
 
 *' I do, without a doubt." 
 
 ^^ You would risk something to retrieve 
 the honour of Sir Walter ? " 
 
 " I CO ant risk as nothing. To prove his 
 truth I would give my life." 
 
 *^ And you would do something to punish 
 the treachery which destroyed our good 
 King at Flodden ? " 
 
 '' To help that object there is nothing I 
 would not do." 
 
 '' Your hand upon it."
 
 140 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 Their hands were joined for an instant, 
 and a bond of friendship was silently 
 sealed between them. Then, the Cheva- 
 lier — 
 
 ^' You shall begin the work at once. Here 
 is a secret — Douglas aspires to the hand of 
 the Queen." 
 
 ^^ What, before the people are satisfied 
 that the King is dead ? " 
 
 *^ The Earl of Angus cares little what the 
 people think." 
 
 "■ Well, and does this affect our cause ? " 
 
 ^' Much, as you shall learn. Hamilton of 
 Arran, who opposes Douglas in the grand 
 struggle for supremacy in the guidance of 
 our unhappy country, was the friend of 
 Spens. Tushielaw has more than once 
 served Douglas, who therefore favours him. 
 Should Douglas become husband to the 
 Queen, there^ is little hope that we shall 
 ever be able to revoke the judgment pro- 
 nounced upon our friend." 
 
 '* We cannot stay the union, indiscreet as 
 it may be."
 
 A SECRET MISSION. 141 
 
 " But we can serve others who may have 
 the power to prevent it. Take this packet. 
 I will guide you to the King's Park. After 
 leaving me, you will find a man waiting 
 at the north gate. You will say to him, 
 * England wakes.' Why do you start ? " 
 
 ^' 1 will not serve England." 
 
 ^^ No, but you will serve Scotland and 
 Sir Walter Spens." 
 
 *^ I doubt if this will serve either." 
 
 ^' It is our only chance of serving both." 
 
 '' Explain, then." 
 
 " Not now. I cannot." 
 
 '' Then take back the packet." ♦ 
 
 '' Foolish youth, are you afraid ? " 
 
 *^ Yes, of being false to myself and to my 
 country." 
 
 *^ You shall be false to neither, I pledge 
 myself." 
 
 ^' That is not enough," persisted Gilbert, 
 dourly. 
 
 The Chevalier raised his hand to his 
 mask as if to tear it from his face. He 
 checked himself, and said, sadly —
 
 142 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 ^^As you will; I do not mean to force 
 your humour ; but I thought that you had 
 learned to trust me." 
 
 Something in the man's voice and man- 
 ner inspired confidence. 
 
 ^^ Give me the packet ; I will go." 
 
 ^' That is well for all of us. You remem- 
 ber the signal ? " 
 
 *' 'England wakes.' " 
 
 '^ The man will answer, if he be the one 
 you seek, ' Scotland wakes.' Follow him. 
 He will conduct you to a lady, who will 
 ask how England fares. For answer you 
 will give her this missive." 
 
 '* May there be need for a sword ? " 
 
 *' Perhaps not ; but keep guard. Above 
 all, be silent as to whence you come, and 
 let no word escape you to show that you 
 have divined anything of the contents of 
 the packet. Come." 
 
 They passed out by the same mysterious 
 route as they had entered the place. Then, 
 down Canongate to the Park. Gilbert pro- 
 ceeded alone towards the Palace. Near
 
 A SECRET Missio:sr. 143 
 
 one of the private doors in the park wall 
 he found a stripling pacing up and down, 
 as if to keep his blood in circulation whilst 
 he waited for some one. 
 
 *^ England wakes." 
 
 The youth halted, and, peering through 
 the mist, made answer — 
 
 " Scotland wakes." 
 
 The page — such Gilbert concluded to be 
 the youth's degree — opened the wall door 
 and locked it again as soon as they had got 
 into the Park. He then led the way to- 
 ward the chapel at a quick pace. The 
 path chosen by the guide was screened 
 from the east wind by a thick hedgerow. 
 
 Gilbert kept close to his guide, remember- 
 ing always the warning of the Chevalier to 
 be on his guard. The warning served, as 
 it seemed, for suddenly he heard a sound 
 as of the advancing footsteps of a man. 
 The page gave a sharp whistle, and darted 
 forward, as if with the intention of leaving 
 Gilbert behind. The latter, however, laid 
 hold of his cloak and held him still, whilst
 
 144 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 he touched him on the brow with the fiat 
 of liis poignard. 
 
 ^' Make another sound, attempt to slip 
 from my grasp, and you shall not live to 
 betray another." 
 
 ^^ Don't — don't kill me ; they didn't mean 
 to kill you." 
 
 ^^ What, then?" 
 
 ^' They only wanted to know the message 
 you carry." 
 
 '^ And who are they ? " 
 
 *' I dare not tell you — I dare not." 
 
 '* You must speak — who ? " 
 
 *^ Angus. Don't press my throat so hard. 
 I'll take you safely." 
 
 ^^ Don't speak so loud. I cannot trust 
 you ; but, understand me, the least sign of 
 treachery you make will be the signal for 
 me to strike you down." 
 
 They had been hurrying forward during 
 this hasty whispered conversation, and they 
 soon reached the Abbey Chapel. A side 
 door of the Chapter House opened to the 
 summons of the page. Gilbert found him-
 
 A SECRET MISSION. 145 
 
 self in the presence of a lady, who started 
 slightly at the sight of him. She was 
 closely veiled, so that he could see nothing 
 of her features, and so her surprise was to 
 him most inexplicable. 
 
 She recovered herself immediately, and 
 quietly motioned him to follow her. He 
 obeyed, keeping a firm hold of the page all 
 the time. 
 
 The place was dimly lighted by a couple 
 of wax candles at the farther end, towards 
 which the party moved. 
 
 Beneath the lights Gilbert saw a second 
 lady, taller and more matronly in figure 
 than the first. She was also closely veiled, 
 but the richness of her somewhat sombre 
 attire indicated that she was of considerable 
 rank. To her the first lady, who ap- 
 peared to be of a quick lively nature, 
 whispered something and then drew back 
 a pace. 
 
 The page was ordered to withdraw. 
 
 ^'I cannot, my lady; this gentleman 
 holds me so tightly." 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 THE BRAES OP YARROW. 
 
 *^You have heard my direction, sir?" 
 this imperiously to Gilbert. 
 
 ^^ Yes, madam, but pardon me. I have 
 akeady had reason to doubt the honesty of 
 this youth, and " 
 
 '' How ? Do you refuse to release him ?" 
 
 *'No, my lady, I do not refuse, but I 
 would rather keep him here ? " 
 
 ^^Who are you?" 
 
 ^^A soldier, madam, and Gilbert Elliot 
 by name." 
 
 '^ Your rank?" 
 
 ^^ Only what my sword may win me." 
 
 The lady's head moved haughtily, even 
 contemptuously, and the blood crimsoned 
 Gilbert's face. 
 
 *^ The rank will not be high since you 
 fear a couple of women." 
 
 ^'You mistake, lady; I fear nothing for 
 myself from you or from those you may 
 have within call. But there are those for 
 whose sake my life is valuable." 
 
 *' Obey, sirrah, and be silent." 
 
 *' I may obey when I know you; mean- 
 while you must pardon me."
 
 A SECRET missio:n'. 147 
 
 The lady's foot patted the ground im- 
 patiently, and Gilbert coolly retained his 
 grasp of the frightened page. The lady 
 spoke again. 
 
 ^' I wish you would let the boy go, sir 
 soldier; it is necessary that he should be 
 beyond hearing." 
 
 Gilbert instantly released the page. 
 
 ^^What you demanded, lady, I was able 
 to refuse. When you ask I must obey," 
 and he bowed his head with a courtesy that 
 would have done credit to the most ex- 
 perienced gallant. 
 
 " My faith," said the lady in French f o 
 her companion, and laughing, '^here is a 
 cavalier worth having near us." Gilbert 
 looked somewhat awkward. 
 
 '*You understand me," said the lady, 
 turning to him quickly. ^' No matter, I 
 think I spoke truly." 
 
 " I hope so, madam." 
 
 The page had retired to the door. 
 
 **I am satisfied," she went on. "Now, 
 how fares England?"
 
 148 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 Gilbert presented the packet. 
 
 She broke it open, and perused the con- 
 tents with evident signs of impatience and 
 anger. When she had finished reading she 
 crumpled the paper in her hand. 
 
 '^ This must have an answer such as it 
 merits. Where may you be found, sir ? " 
 
 ^^ At Mrs. Nicol's, Cowgate." 
 
 ^' You shall hear from me. Adieu." 
 
 Gilbert bowed respectfully, and was con- 
 ducted back to the door by the lady who 
 had admitted him. As she opened the door 
 she whispered hastily — 
 
 ^^ Fortune is near you." 
 
 The voice did not sound strange in his 
 ear; but before he could identify the 
 speaker or express thanks the door closed 
 between them, and the page stood sulkily 
 waiting to conduct him through the Park.
 
 ( 149 ) 
 
 CHAPTEK X. 
 
 SOMETHING MYSTERIOUS. 
 
 ** Whoever is the mother of one chjlde, 
 Which, having thought long dead, she fyndes alive, 
 Let her by proofe of that which she hath fylde 
 In her own breast, this mother's joy descrive ; 
 For other none such passion can contrive 
 In perfect forme as this good ladye felt 
 When she so fair a daughter saw survive." 
 
 The Faery Queen, 
 
 Gilbert was conducted safely through the 
 Park to the place where he had found the 
 page waiting an hour before. His guide 
 having bade him a sulky adieu, our adven- 
 turer proceeded with quick strides to the 
 spot where the Chevalier had arranged to 
 await his return. 
 
 He found him, and briefly related all that
 
 150 THE BKAES OF YARROW. 
 
 had passed, not omitting the singular com- 
 munication made to him by the lady who 
 had accompanied him to the door. The 
 Chevalier pressed his arm as if in congratu- 
 lation. 
 
 **I trust the lady prophesied truly; and 
 mayhap her random words were nearer truth 
 than she or you imagined." 
 
 *^ It may be so, for folk say that fortune 
 favours all who have hearts stubborn enough 
 to besiege the jade till she yields." 
 
 ^^ And when she yields, do you ever 
 dream of the form you would have her 
 favours take ?" 
 
 '^ The vision is very faint. When my 
 poor mother lived she would at whiles when 
 she was saddest take me down from Hal- 
 stane to Binram's Cross, and there, whilst 
 we heard the Yarrow moaning by us, she 
 would tell me strange tales of the brave 
 knights of Binram. Sometimes I dream 
 that I should like to be one of them, for my 
 mother loved them, although her family 
 had been at feud with the lords of Binram 
 for long years."
 
 SOMETHING MYSTERIOUS. 151 
 
 " Your mother was one of the Elliots of 
 Minto?" 
 
 " Yes, but she lived apart from her family 
 on account of some quarrel, the nature of 
 which I have failed to learn hitherto. She 
 lived at Halstane with her kinsman Walter 
 Spens, in whose arms she died." 
 
 " And where was your father ? " 
 
 They walked on a little way in silence. 
 Then Gilbert, huskily — 
 
 '^Dead, I believe.'' 
 
 *' Have you never attempted to make 
 yourself known to his family — or to adopt 
 his name? " 
 
 ^^ You press me sorely, comrade, but since 
 we have touched upon this matter we will 
 finish it now. By snatches I have learned 
 something of a cruel story from my mother 
 and from Spens. When she was in direst 
 distress my father's friends turned coldly 
 from her. My father himself was many 
 years away occupied in the wars of France 
 and the Low Country. Either his messages 
 were never delivered or he had learned to 
 forget his wife."
 
 152 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 ^* Yon speak harshly." 
 
 '' And if I do it is because my mother's 
 memory is so dear to me, and because she 
 suffered cruelly. From the time that I 
 began to grasp the meaning of these things 
 I said in the bitterness of my heart that I 
 would never seek my father or his name ; 
 that with what strength Heaven would be 
 pleased to give me I should make a name 
 for myself that would rank without a blush 
 beside that of my father, even had it been 
 one of the noblest in the land. So let our 
 gossip end." 
 
 To this the Chevalier made no response, 
 but the sad story of a neglected wife which 
 was thus briefly indicated by Gilbert was 
 not to end so abruptly as he appeared to 
 desire. Far removed, as it seemed, from 
 his present life, it was one of the currents 
 which was to swell the tide of his affairs 
 much more than he anticipated. 
 
 They were now on the south side of 
 Canongate, and not far from the Netherbow 
 Port. They stopped at the foot of one of
 
 SOMETHINa MYSTERIOUS. 153 
 
 those narrow outside staircases peculiar to 
 the construction of the houses of that 
 period. 
 
 *' We have something to learn here, per- 
 haps," whispered the Chevalier ; ^^ some- 
 thing that may concern our cause nearly. 
 Step softly." 
 
 They ascended the staircase, and the 
 Chevalier, after passing his hand carefully 
 over the door, pressed one of the nails with 
 his finger. No sound was heard, but pre- 
 sently the door was cautiously opened and 
 the two men entered. The door closed in 
 the same cautious manner as it had opene3. 
 
 Then a light, which appeared to be placed 
 on the top of a child's head, moved along 
 the passage before them, up two steps at 
 the back part of the house, and into a 
 small three-cornered chamber which had 
 apparently been designed originally for a 
 pantry. 
 
 The light was lowered to the ground, and 
 Gilbert recognized in its bearer Hornie, the 
 dwarf.
 
 154 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 A look of intelligence passed between 
 them, 
 
 " You have met before ? " said the Cheva- 
 lier. 
 
 *'Yes," responded Gilbert quickly; ^^with 
 his aid I gained entrance to Tushielaw's 
 Tower, and " 
 
 * ' Whisht — baud your whisht, ' ' interrupted 
 the dwarf, with a comical expression of 
 alarm on his big disproportioned face ; ^^ fy 
 on't, would ye put red-het cinders amang 
 dry haystacks ? " 
 
 And he motioned with his finger toward 
 the wall as if indicating the danger of being 
 overheard. The next minute he extin- 
 guished the light. 
 
 The sound of voices from another apart- 
 ment reached Gilbert's ears, and the pro- 
 nunciation of his own name and that of 
 Lady Spens quickened his curiosity. 
 
 The Chevalier drew him to the wall; a 
 portion of the panelling was removed, and 
 a diamond- shaped eye-hole admitted the 
 light from the next chamber. Gilbert
 
 SOMETHINa MYSTERIOUS. 155 
 
 looked througli the hole and perceived those 
 arch conspirators, Adam Scott of Tushielaw 
 and the sham friar Simon. 
 
 There was a third, to whom both seemed 
 to pay singular deference, and upon whom 
 both seemed to be earnestly urging some- 
 thing. This third person owned a gainly 
 figure, tall, muscular, and youthful, with 
 keen dark eyes and a bearing haughty as 
 that of the proudest monarch. 
 
 He spoke with a decisive tone of authority. 
 
 ^^Now, mark me, with the persons you 
 name I have nothing to do. To-night you 
 have blundered as the stupidest gilly to 
 be found on Angus would not have blun- 
 dered " 
 
 ^* We did not get the full signal," growled 
 Tushielaw. 
 
 Haughtily the stranger continued, with- 
 out the slightest heed to the explanation 
 vouchsafed — 
 
 ^^ The knowledge of the contents of the 
 missive that fellow succeeded in carrying 
 safely to its destination was of the highest
 
 156 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 import to me. You have failed to procure 
 that for me, and yet you " — to Tushielaw — 
 ^'ask me to close the palace doors in the 
 face of an unfortunate lady ; and you" — to 
 the friar — ^^ ask me to secure for you the 
 lordship of Binram." 
 
 *' It is my right," said Mess Simon, 
 frowning; ^'the late lord was my father's 
 brother, and, dying without issue, I am his 
 heir through my father." 
 
 *' That is, you would have been the heir 
 direct had your mother been your father's 
 wife." 
 
 This was pronounced with a cool con- 
 tempt, under which the subject writhed. 
 
 ^^AU the priests in Christendom could 
 not have made me more the son of Heron 
 Barras, whose name I bear." 
 
 ^^ Or less worthy of the honours you seek." 
 
 ^' These are hard words, my lord, and 
 unwise, since it is in my power to retaliate." 
 
 "Soh! you threaten." 
 
 '^ No, I only warn." 
 
 His lordship's lips moved scornfully.
 
 SOMETHIXa MYSTERIOUS. 157 
 
 ^^ And think you, sir, that I will heed 
 your warning or your threats ? " 
 
 *^It may be well to do so," said Simon, 
 significantly. 
 
 ** Bah! Why, man, do you know what it 
 is you want me to do — to raise you to the 
 peerage?" 
 
 '^ And you, my lord, do you know what 
 it is you want us to do — to raise you to a 
 throne?" 
 
 The retort struck home, and his lordship 
 started fiercely. 
 
 /'You lie, churl " Then, checking 
 
 himself, he said with suppressed rage, ''You 
 mistake my motives. In all that I do my 
 first thought is for my country." 
 
 "And the second for Douglas," inter- 
 rupted Simon, with a sneer. 
 
 "I have no mind to discuss my actions 
 with you," said his lordship, coldly ; 
 " enough that for what service you may do 
 me you shall be requited." 
 
 "Then I am satisfied," rejoined Simon, 
 or Heron Barras, as we had better call him, 
 since we know that to be his real name.
 
 158 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 During this discussion Tushielaw had 
 been standing with arms folded, moodily 
 watching the disputants. 
 
 ''I, too, am satisfied." he said now; 
 *^ but your lordship will understand that in 
 what has been done and in what may be to 
 do I do not question your reasons. I am 
 content to know that in serving you I serve 
 myself." 
 
 '^ Wherein lies the ground of my con- 
 fidence in you," said his lordship, rising and 
 drawing his cloak about him. '' I have told 
 you what I desire, and if the result be as I 
 wish I shall not fail to help you in your 
 claims." 
 
 Barras bowed his head submissively, for 
 to him the latter words were addressed. 
 
 Gilbert found himself drawn away from 
 his point of observance at this stage of the 
 proceedings. 
 
 " We must go," said the Chevalier in his 
 ear. 
 
 They were conducted stealthily to the 
 door, and before they had reached the
 
 SOMETHINa MYSTERIOUS. 159 
 
 middle of the street they heard the tread of 
 three men descending the outside staircase. 
 
 *^Did you recognize them?" questioned 
 the Chevaher. 
 
 "Yes. Tushielaw, the half-brother of 
 Lady Spens, and Douglas. My poor lady 
 needs help indeed, since so much power 
 opposes her." 
 
 " And she shall have help, fear not. Now 
 for the bairn." 
 
 As he spoke the Chevalier opened the door 
 of a house nearly opposite the one they had 
 just quitted. They passed into a dark room, 
 where by the aid of a flint a light was pro- 
 cured. Gilbert surmised correctly that this 
 was the same house into which he had been 
 taken some hours previously to elude the 
 pursuit of Tushielaw and B arras. 
 
 Here he was left alone for a few minutes, 
 and when the Chevalier returned he carried 
 wee Ahce in his arms. He held her to his 
 breast with a singular tenderness, and he 
 passed her to Gilbert hesitatingly, as if 
 reluctant to part with her. He suddenly
 
 160 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 drew her back to him, and said, with an 
 inexpHcable emotion in his tone — 
 
 '^ Stay, I will carry her to the lodgings of 
 her mother. That will avoid any difficulty 
 in passing the Port." 
 
 Gilbert was struck by the manner and 
 the voice, and silently followed the man, 
 who seemed to have become strangely 
 interested in his affairs and those of Lady 
 Spens. 
 
 When they returned to the street the fog 
 was slowly rising from the city, and the 
 chill air of morning swept coldly up the 
 hill. The Chevalier with the soHcitude 
 almost of a woman folded his cloak around 
 the child, and at a quick pace they pro- 
 ceeded toward the Cowgate. 
 
 Arrived at Mrs. Nicol's door, Andrew, 
 looking fatigued and anxious, made his 
 appearance. 
 
 '* Saints save us, Maister Gilbert," he 
 said, holding up the light. *' Whar hae ye 
 been roving till a' nicht ? " 
 
 ^^ Never mind that, Andrew. What I
 
 SOMETHING MYSTERIOUS. 161 
 
 have brought here is worth roving twenty 
 nights for. Here is Alice." 
 
 ^'Hooly," cried the veteran, with a jump 
 of joy, ^'but that's giiid news for my lady. 
 She has been up this three hours walking 
 about, no able to sleep, and asking every 
 five minutes if ye had come back. Hooly, 
 hooly, but this is braw news." 
 
 The old man's exclamations of joy brought 
 Lady Spens to the door. 
 
 *^The bairn, Gilbert," she cried, grasping 
 him by the arm ; ^ ^ you have found her, you 
 have found her." 
 
 " She is here," said Gilbert, stepping 
 aside, and revealing the Chevalier, who still 
 held the child. 
 
 With a cry of delight, the lady sprang 
 forward and snatched the precious one from 
 the man's arm. Whilst she covered the 
 child with passionate kisses she did not see 
 that the man's eyes were fixed upon her 
 with a strange yearning, and that he 
 trembled. 
 
 There was an interruption here by the 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 162 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 appearance of Mrs. Nicol in an enormous 
 night- cap, with any amount of frill, a night- 
 gown, and a flannel petticoat thrown hastily- 
 over her, and her feet thrust into a pair of 
 shoes which were much too big for her, and 
 which, consequently, made considerable 
 noise as she shuffled along the passage. 
 There was a look of alarm upon her aged 
 face, and the light she carried shook ner- 
 vously in her hand. 
 
 ^' Gude preserve us all ! what gate are ye 
 ganging in my house at this hour ? " 
 
 ^^ Whisht ye, auld woman, whisht ye," 
 said Andrew, persuasively. ^^ I'll tell ye a' 
 aboot it enoo." 
 
 ^^I'll no whisht me," cried the ancient 
 lady, irately; ^^ and I'll no be ca'd auld 
 woman in my ain house." 
 
 ^' Weel, weel, young woman, then," said 
 Andrew, attempting to remedy his error. 
 
 "And I'll no be ca'd young woman 
 either," interrupted Mrs. Nicol, placing her 
 disengaged hand to her side with an air of 
 resolution.
 
 SOMETHma MYSTERIOUS. 163 
 
 ^' Then what the devil will ye be ca'd ? " 
 cried Andrew, in bewilderment. 
 
 Gilbert interfered, and speedily succeeded 
 in changing the old lady's wrath into good 
 humour by acquainting her that he had just 
 succeeded in restoring her lodger's lost 
 child, whom they had come to Edinburgh 
 to seek. 
 
 Whilst Mrs. Nicol was conducting Lady 
 Spens to her chamber, and expressing her 
 wonder and pleasure on the way, Gilbert 
 turned to speak to the Chevalier, but he had 
 disappeared. 
 
 The recovery of her child was to the 
 unfortunate Lady Spens as a reprieve to 
 the condemned at the foot of the scaffold. 
 At first her heart was filled with too much 
 joy to permit her to think of the innumer- 
 able dangers which surrounded her — dangers 
 which required her concealment, and which 
 were not, therefore, in any way relieved by 
 the presence of Alice, but rather increased. 
 When she did become calm enough to think 
 of these matters, the supreme speculation
 
 164 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 which presented itself was as to the means 
 of obtaining audience with the Queen. 
 
 Upon this speculation came trooping all 
 the black horrors of her position. She, the 
 wife of a condemned traitor, dared not 
 present herself at the palace gates, make 
 known her name, and request admission. 
 If she were to do this, would she not be 
 turned away with scorn — perhaps seized 
 and cast into a loathsome prison ? Who 
 would then listen to her protestations of 
 innocence ? Clearly, as she could only 
 hope for clemency from her Majesty, she 
 must be in her presence before she declared 
 her name or purpose. 
 
 But there was the difficulty, and she 
 could find no means of overcoming it. 
 
 Then she hugged her child to her breast, 
 sobbing bitterly, and little Alice looked up 
 into her face, marvelling at her sorrow. 
 
 "Mamma," said the little one, folding 
 her tiny arms round the mother's neck, and 
 looking wistfully into the tearful eyes, "why 
 do you greet so ? "
 
 SOMETHINa MYSTERIOUS. 165 
 
 ^' I am troubled, Aly, that is why." 
 
 ** Then let iis go to papa." 
 
 ^' Ah, my darling, if that were possible ! " 
 And she hid her face upon the child's 
 shoulder. 
 
 *' I saw him," said Aly, nodding her little 
 head with an air of profound wisdom. 
 
 *^You saw him?" said Lady Margaret, 
 starting, and for an instant forgetting the 
 improbability of what her child stated. 
 
 ^^Yes, I saw him," continued Aly, "last 
 night and the night before that." 
 
 "Where, Aly, where?" 
 
 " When the man with the black thing on 
 his face took me away, there was an old 
 woman washed me and dressed me, and 
 gave me everything that I could eat. Then 
 she put me to bed, and when I wakened 
 through the night, wondering where you 
 were, mamma, there was somebody bending 
 over me, and I was frightened. ^ Don't be 
 frightened, Aly,' he said; and I looked up, 
 and saw it was papa." 
 
 " Did you hold out your hands — did you 
 catch him in your arms ? "
 
 166 THE BRAES OF YARROA\'. 
 
 Aly shook her head. 
 
 ^^No, I was going to do that, mamma, 
 but I was frightened again when I saw his 
 face ; it was so white and strange. While 
 I was looking at him he stooped down and 
 kissed me; and oh, he was so very cold, 
 mamma." 
 
 The child's eyes filled with tears, and she 
 shivered as if she felt the ice-like kiss upon 
 her lips again. 
 
 " Well, Aly, well, what happened after 
 that ? " queried the lady eagerly. 
 
 ^* Then, after that, he seemed to go away, 
 and I couldn't see where he went to; but 
 he didn't go out by the door." 
 
 The wife, trembling between hope and 
 doubt, passed her hand across her eyes as 
 if to clear her vision. 
 
 *^ But you saw him again, Aly ; what did 
 he say the next time ? " 
 
 " The second night I wakened, and there 
 was somebody sobbing beside me, just as 
 you were, mamma ; and when I turned my 
 head, I saw a man sitting on the chair with
 
 SOMETHING MYSTERIOUS. 167 
 
 his head bowed upon his hands. He heard 
 me stirring, and I looked up and I saw it 
 was papa ; and, although his face w^as white, 
 white and cold, I held out my hands to 
 him, and he took me in his bosom and 
 kept me there till I fell asleep. "When I 
 wakened in the morning he was away, and 
 the old woman Kirsty would not tell me 
 anything about him ; and when I asked the 
 man with the black thing on his face he 
 only shook his head this way, and said 
 nothing." 
 
 Whilst Aly shook her head in imitation 
 of the man in the mask. Lady Spens covered 
 her face with her hands. 
 
 " It was a foolish thought," she moaned, 
 ^' that he could live and fail to seek me. 
 My bonny bairn, papa will never come to 
 us any more except in dreams, as you have 
 seen him." 
 
 ^' Oh, but I was not dreaming. I am 
 quite, quite sure I saw him." 
 
 '' You have not spoken of this to any one 
 else, Aly? " said the mother, as she thought
 
 168 THE BRAES OF YAKROW. 
 
 of the new danger these visions of the child 
 might bring upon them. 
 
 *^No, mamma." 
 
 ^' Then yon will not speak of it to any one 
 except to me — not even to Andrew." 
 
 Aly promised obedience, and at that 
 instant there was an authoritative knock 
 upon the outer door, which caused the lady 
 to start and listen in dread lest her retreat 
 had been discovered. 
 
 In another chamber Gilbert had just risen 
 from the couch on which he had been 
 resting for a few hours, and had, with the 
 aid of a bucket of water procured by Andrew 
 from the water-cart which had just passed, 
 washed himself, when he too was startled 
 hj the loud knocking on the outer door. 
 
 Andrew entered the room hurriedly. 
 
 ^' Something awsome is the matter noo," 
 he said; ^' here is an officer of the Queen's 
 Guard wants to see ye." 
 
 ^* Admit him — stop, give me my belt 
 first." 
 
 Andrew handed him the belt, which he
 
 SOMETHma MYSTERIOUS. 169 
 
 had been cleaning, and just as Gilbert com- 
 pleted bis attire by buckling on bis sword 
 Andrew ushered in the officer. 
 
 A tall gentleman, with an abrupt un- 
 pleasant manner, which contrasted oddly 
 with a kindly face — 
 
 ^^ Master Gilbert ElHot ? " 
 
 *^The same, at your service," returned 
 Gilbert, bowing. 
 
 *' Captain Lindsay desired me to deliver 
 this, and to inquire when he might expect 
 you to report yourself ? " 
 
 • Gilbert was somewhat puzzled to know 
 what Captain Lindsay wanted him to report 
 himself for. He, however, took the de- 
 spatch which his visitor presented to him, 
 and upon opening it read his appointment 
 as a gentleman of the Queen's Guard. 
 With the first flush of surprise and pleasure 
 this unexpected piece of good fortune in- 
 spired, was mingled the consciousness of 
 the additional power this appointment would 
 give him to support the cause of Lady 
 Spens.
 
 170 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 '^ I thank yon, sir, for the good tidings 
 yon bring me here, and, as yonr comrade 
 in arms, salnte yon." 
 
 ** Yonr answer to Captain Lindsay ? " 
 
 ^' I will report myself within the honr." 
 
 '^ Good ; I salnte yon, comrade." 
 
 The officer extended his hand, which 
 Gilbert shook heartily. 
 
 "Do I join yon at the Castle or the 
 Palace?" 
 
 " At the Palace." 
 
 The officer inclined his head stiffly, 
 wheeled abont, and departed. 
 
 As soon as Gilbert had reported to Lady 
 Margaret the good fortune that had befallen 
 him he proceeded to the Palace, and, npon 
 inqniring for Captain Lindsay, he was taken 
 by a soldier to the guard-room. There he 
 found the gentleman who had brought him 
 the commission in conversation with several 
 others. 
 
 The officer in his abrupt way introduced 
 Master Elliot as one of them ; and then led 
 him into another apartment where they 
 were alone together.
 
 SOMETHING MYSTERIOUS. 171 
 
 ^^I desired to see Captain Lindsay," said 
 Gilbert, looking around. 
 
 ^' I am he." 
 
 '^ You — I was not aware " 
 
 '^ No matter. I desired to be the first to 
 see you, and therefore delivered your com- 
 mission myself." 
 
 *' I am honoured." 
 
 '^No. I desired to judge for myself 
 whether or not you were worthy of the 
 place you have obtained. I am satisfied." 
 
 '^ Thank you," and Gilbert bowed some- 
 what haughtily. ^ 
 
 The captain proceeded without noticing 
 the interruption. 
 
 ^^ To-day your uniform will be prepared; 
 to-morrow at eight o'clock you will take 
 your place among us. At eleven we attend 
 the King and his royal mother through the 
 Park." 
 
 ^' I shall be ready." 
 
 Thus the interview closed, and Gilbert 
 departed with a smile, for it appeared to 
 him that much of the captain's harshness
 
 172 THE BRAES OF YAIlROA^^ 
 
 was assumed in order to conceal a kindly- 
 nature. 
 
 As he was passing througli one of the 
 courts a page touched his sleeve. 
 
 '^Master Gilbert Elliot?" 
 
 ^' I' faith," said that gentleman, laughing, 
 as he turned to the page, '^ Master Gilbert 
 Elliot appears to be in request in these 
 quarters. That is my name, my man." 
 
 ^' This way, then." • 
 
 *^ At your service." 
 
 Gilbert followed the page to the other 
 side of the court, then along a number of 
 corridors, wondering all the while what was 
 about to betide him now, till he became 
 aware that he was in the royal residence. 
 
 The page opened a private door and 
 closed it after them. They passed up a 
 winding staircase and into a narrow corri- 
 dor. Here the page requested him to wait 
 for a few minutes and disappeared. Pre- 
 sently he returned and conducted Gilbert 
 into a richly furnished chamber, where he 
 left him without a word.
 
 ( 173 ) 
 
 CHAPTEE XI. 
 
 IN fortune's way. 
 
 "Bat lively was the mingled thrill 
 That chased that momentary chill, 
 For love's keen wish was there ; 
 And eager Hope and Valour high, 
 And the proud glow of Chivalry, 
 That burned to do and dare." 
 
 The Bridal of Triermain. 
 
 ''Well," said Gilbert, clasping his hands 
 behind him, after having gazed for several 
 minutes in dumb puzzlement at the door 
 of the chamber where the page had left 
 him, '' one would enjoy this position con- 
 siderably more if one could only make out 
 its meaning. Marry, here is a boudoir for 
 a Queen ; and surely some lady inhabits 
 it, if one may judge by this harp, these
 
 174 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 music scrolls, and this tambour frame. 
 Then why am I brought here?" 
 
 That was precisely the question for which 
 he could not devise any answer. So, like 
 a wise man, he began to pace the chamber 
 and to try to fix his thoughts upon some 
 other subject than the meaning of his 
 presence there. He soon, however, found 
 that tiresome work, and advanced into the 
 deep recess of the window to seek some 
 amusement. 
 
 He looked out upon the private gardens 
 of the Palace and discovered a group which 
 interested him. The group was composed 
 of a number of ladies and gentlemen, 
 amongst whom three figures attracted his 
 special attention. 
 
 The first was that of a child scarcely two 
 years old, a bright-eyed, happy-faced, fair- 
 headed little fellow, who was apparently in 
 high delight with the jewelled hilt of the 
 sword of the gentleman who carried him. 
 This gentleman was the second attraction 
 to the observer. He was tall, of well-knit
 
 m fortune's way. 175 
 
 figure, witli keen bright eyes, and all the 
 bearing of noble blood and high rank. 
 
 Beside these two walked a lady, whose 
 height was a Httle above the average, whose 
 form was graceful, whose step was firm, and 
 whose handsome head, with rather mas- 
 culine features, was carried haughtily. 
 
 In her Gilbert fancied he recognized the 
 lady to whom he had delivered the secret 
 missive in the chapel on the previous 
 night. In the three figures he recognized 
 the child King James V., Douglas of Angus, 
 and the Queen. 
 
 He was so much occupied in watching 
 the group in the garden that he did not 
 observe the door open or know that a lady 
 had entered. 
 
 Bright large dark eyes, with a twinkle of 
 humour in them that might have changed 
 to a glow of hate ; small clearly defined 
 and regular features : a profusion of glossy 
 black hair; a figure below the average in 
 height, slim but light and graceful as that 
 of a fairy, robed in a dress of dark silk.
 
 176 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 This was the lady who stood watching 
 Gilbert with a merry ghmmer in her bright 
 eyes. 
 
 *^ Master Elliot," she repeated for the 
 third time softly. 
 
 Gilbert started, w^heeled roimd, and with 
 an exclamation of surprise doffed his hat 
 and bowed low. 
 
 *^Have you forgotten me?" she said, 
 extending a little white hand. 
 
 *^It is impossible to forget Lady Mary 
 Douglas," he said, taking the hand respect- 
 fully. 
 
 A slight flush coloured her somewhat 
 pale cheeks, but it passed away instantly. 
 
 " Yet you did not recognize me through 
 my veil last night," she returned, laughing 
 a subdued silvery peal. 
 
 *' Pardon me; I was confused, I think, 
 by the business in which I was engaged," 
 he said, with a degree of awkward- 
 ness. 
 
 *^ Important business, I am aware; but 
 fie, a gallant and courtier would never have
 
 IN fortune's way. 177 
 
 forgotten even the voice of a lady for whom 
 he had once risked his life." 
 
 '* Possibly a gallant and courtier would 
 never have been in a position to forget such 
 an event." 
 
 **Ah, I am hit. I see you parry words 
 with as much adroitness as you parry sword- 
 thrusts. We shall talk as friends, and so 
 I will cheat you of a victory.*' 
 
 *' I suspect the gain will be on my side." 
 
 *' I shall not be sorry either way. You 
 received your commission to the Queen's 
 Guard this morning ? " 
 
 "I did, and now I understand to what 
 good spirit I am indebted for the favour." 
 
 ^^ It is to the Queen, not to me, you are 
 indebted," interrupted Lady Mary, hastily. 
 ** She was amused and struck by your firm- 
 ness last night, and has taken the first 
 opportunity to show her goodwill." 
 
 ^^ It was the Queen, then, to whom I 
 delivered the despatch ? ' ' 
 
 ^* Yes. Did you not divine ? " 
 
 "Not till a few minutes since; you will 
 
 TOI;. I. N
 
 178 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 forgive me if I continue to think that I had 
 an intercessor with her Majesty." 
 
 Lady Mary laughed gaily. 
 
 ^* Be seated, then, and I will tell you." 
 
 Gilbert placed a chair — by accident be- 
 side the harp — for the lively little lady, 
 and, obeying a dainty motion of her hand, 
 seated himself near her. 
 
 Then she rested one hand upon the harp, 
 and as she spoke her fingers mechanically 
 passed over the strings. She gossiped 
 easily, merrily, but there was an under- 
 current in her mirth, an undercurrent of 
 passion — perhaps of love. 
 
 ^' Well, when you left us in the chapel, 
 her Majesty, who was in a pretty rage, T 
 promise you, with the missive you brought 
 from her brother " 
 
 '^ From her brother ? " 
 
 ^^Yes, Henry of England — did you not 
 know whose despatch you carried ? " 
 
 *^ I knew nothing." 
 
 *^ That is strange ; but it matters nothing 
 to us, and so we will let it pass. As I was
 
 m fortune's way. 179 
 
 saying, she was in a pretty rage till she 
 remembered your resolute countenance and 
 the timid face of the page ; then she 
 laughed and asked me if I had ever seen 
 such a terribly fierce gentleman. I an- 
 swered that I never had seen one so fierce 
 
 or " 
 
 She stopped, flushed faintly, and the fairy 
 fingers flew over the harp-strings nervously, 
 producing a discordant sound which at- 
 tracted her own attention. 
 
 ''What am I doing?" she cried, laugh- 
 ing ; '' you see. Master Elliot, how for- 
 getful Court life and a sojourn in France 
 makes one. I was telling you about the 
 Queen, was I not?" 
 
 '' I think so." 
 
 '' Think ? — are you not sure ? " 
 
 It was Gilbert's turn to laugh now. 
 
 '' There are other causes of forgetfulness 
 besides Court life and a sojourn in France, 
 my lady." 
 
 She held up her hand coquettishly. 
 
 ''Flatterer — but I see you were born to
 
 180 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 be a courtier, although you have hitherto 
 
 preferred the wild life of the borders. I 
 
 was telling you about the Queen, and I was 
 
 saying that I had informed her of my 
 
 former acquaintance with you. Upon this 
 
 she would not be satisfied till I had told 
 
 her all I knew of you. Then I related to 
 
 her how about two years ago there was a 
 
 lady in a barque beset by a storm off the 
 
 coast of Dunbar, how there was only one 
 
 man who would risk his life to. save the 
 
 lady's, how bravely he did risk it and saved 
 
 her, and how that man was Gilbert Elliot 
 
 and that lady her devoted attendant, Mary 
 
 Douglas, and that ever since she has felt 
 
 herself under a debt of gratitude — stay, 
 
 where have we arrived at now ? " 
 
 Gilbert was blushing like a girl at the 
 reference to his own noble action, and the 
 lady's pale face was suffused with crimson, 
 her eyes' brightness intensified with the 
 excitement of the memory, when a second 
 time she checked herself. 
 
 ^'I see yon do not like the story," she
 
 IN fortune's way. 181 
 
 resumed brusquely, '^ so we will hurry for- 
 ward. When I had told her this she said 
 that she had need of such men as you — 
 need of one upon whose truth she could 
 depend in good or ill, in life or death, and 
 I answered that such truth was yours. Did 
 I do wrong ? " 
 
 There was more earnestness in the ques- 
 tion than Gilbert perceived or understood. 
 He was confused and silent. 
 
 " You do not answer," she said quickly ; 
 ^^ have I done wrong ? You are pained — - 
 forgive me." • 
 
 It was impossible to hear these warm 
 impulsive words, impossible to look upon 
 the proud beautiful face, and not be inspired 
 with a yearning to be worthy of the heart 
 to which it was so fair an index. Some- 
 thing of this Gilbert felt ; but nothing 
 clearly. 
 
 '^ Forgive you?" he said earnestly; '^it is 
 
 I, my lady, who must seek forgiveness. I 
 
 'who have been so churlish as to leave you 
 
 to think for an instant that anything you
 
 182 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 could do or say would give me offence. I 
 wish from my heart the service I have 
 rendered you had been more worthy of your 
 remembrance." 
 
 ^^ Now, my faith, I am pleased that you 
 are not displeased, as I began to fear. For 
 the service, you could scarcely do anything 
 more worthy of remembrance than you 
 have done. Ah, be sure, Master Elliot, my 
 debt is not paid yet." 
 
 ^' You must not think so." 
 
 ^^ How, sirrah," stamping her dainty httle 
 foot upon the floor, and gaily mimicking the 
 imperative manner of the Queen on the 
 previous evening ; " do you dictate ? " 
 
 He caught her humour, and enjoyed the 
 jest. 
 
 ^^ Then, lady, since you insist that you 
 are my debtor," he said, dropping upon one 
 knee with all the air of a courtier presenting 
 a petition to his sovereign, ^^I charge you 
 now redeem the debt, and add to it a little 
 credit, so that our positions may change, 
 and I become debtor to you for life."
 
 IN fortune's way. 183 
 
 There was a vein of sincerity in his tone 
 which combined with his position to startle 
 pretty Mistress Douglas a little. 
 
 *^ Can that be done?" she queried, with 
 the faintest degree of hesitation. 
 
 *^ It can — it can." 
 
 He was thoroughly in earnest now, and 
 in his excitement seized her hand. 
 
 She rose to her feet quietly. 
 
 ** Show me how," she returned, playfully 
 attempting to wrest her hand away. 
 
 ** Procure a private audience of the Queen 
 for a very dear friend of mine." 
 
 ^^ Who is the friend ? " 
 
 *^ An unfortunate lady." 
 
 '*A lady?" — the hand was snatched 
 away from him now, and the face was 
 turned a little to one side. *^ Go on — who 
 is the lady?" 
 
 ^^ Margaret Spens." 
 
 The face was turned to him briskly. 
 
 *^ The daughter of B arras — the wife of 
 Walter Spens?" 
 
 *^ The same — the same."
 
 184 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 She shook her head repressively. 
 
 ^'It is impossible; the name of Spens of 
 Halstane is forbidden in the Palace ; he is 
 condemned to ignominy for ever; the life 
 of the poor lady herself, I fear, is not safe/' 
 
 ^^But Walter Spens was innocent — he 
 has been condemned unjustly — I tell you 
 he was innocent, and I'll stake my life upon 
 it. There was not one drop of blood in his 
 whole body that was not warm with loyalty; 
 there was no thought in his good heart that 
 was not for his King. And this is the 
 man who is condemned to ignominy as a 
 traitor ! " 
 
 ^at is the heart of Gilbert ElHot that 
 speaks, and I would not wish it to speak 
 otherwise." 
 
 ** Then believe that it speaks truly. You 
 turn away your face — you doubt. Ah, lady, 
 if you had known him as I have known him 
 — he was my guardian, my second father ; 
 he was a brother to my poor mother in her 
 hour of sorest need; he made me what I 
 am — what courage, what skill, what truth
 
 IN fortune's way. 185 
 
 I own, I owe it all to him. He was no 
 traitor, lady, but a loyal gentleman upon 
 whom villany has fixed its foulest stain." 
 
 *^ You loved him, then ? " 
 
 ^^ Next to my mother best of all the 
 world." 
 
 Mistress Douglas knit her smooth white 
 brow and closed her lips reflectively. 
 Then— 
 
 "Lady Spens, that was Margaret Barras, 
 was some time one of her Majesty's ladies ?" 
 
 "Yes, and a favourite with her. Upon 
 that she rests the hope of her plea." « 
 
 " What is her plea ? " 
 
 " To obtain protection for herself and 
 her child till she can show proof of her 
 husband's honesty." 
 
 A little further reflection, and with a 
 bright smile — 
 
 " There is my hand. Master Elliot ; I will 
 try to help you — but do not let the lady 
 hope much, for I have heard the Queen 
 speak very bitterly of Spens." 
 
 He pressed her hand to his Hps respect- 
 fully.
 
 186 THE BRAES OF YAREOW. 
 
 "I cannot speak my thanks, but shonld 
 the day come when you need help — my hfe 
 is yours." 
 
 *^ To-morrow I will acquaint you with the 
 course to take." 
 
 She touched a silver bell ; the page who 
 had brought Gilbert to the chamber ap- 
 peared, and conducted him back to the 
 outer court. 
 
 Then Gilbert bent his way towards the 
 Cowgate with long swinging strides, and a 
 lighter, happier heart than he had known 
 since Flodden fight.
 
 ( 187 ) 
 
 CHAPTEE XII. 
 
 THE queen's EIDE. 
 
 " Gade. Was ever feather so lightly blown to and fro 
 as this multitude ? " — Henry VL, Fart II. 
 
 On the succeeding morning drums and fifes 
 and trumpets were playing loudly if liot 
 harmoniously. The King and his Koyal 
 mother, the Queen Eegent, were to ride 
 in the Park, and consequently there was 
 much bustle everywhere in the Palace. 
 When at length the Eoyal cortege started, 
 their Majesties were attended by the ladies 
 and gentlemen of the household, some half- 
 dozen noblemen, and the gentlemen of the 
 Queen's Guard. 
 
 Amongst the chief nobles were Angus, 
 and his rival for supremacy in the Councils
 
 188 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 of the State, Arran. Open rupture had 
 not yet taken place between these two, but 
 each eyed the other with the consciousness 
 that he was looking upon his deadly enemy. 
 Each watched the other as closely as if he 
 had been a thief who had obtained entrance 
 to a jewel cabinet ; each dreading lest any 
 chance or mistake on his part might give 
 the other opportunity to steal the precious 
 jewel for the possession of which both were 
 striving. In the presence of Koyalty, how- 
 ever, they as yet comported themselves to- 
 ward each other with quiet circumspection, 
 if not with respect. 
 
 A crowd of citizens and sundry corpora- 
 tions had been admitted to the Park, and 
 formed a living avenue through which the 
 Eoyal party passed, saluted on all sides by 
 loyal acclamations. 
 
 Not so many months afterwards the same 
 crowd saw her pass through its midst, and 
 what salutations she received were very 
 faint and hollow. 
 
 However, the salutations at present were
 
 THE queen's eide. 189 
 
 honest enongh, and her Majesty's humour 
 was gratified. She was in the mood now 
 to be merciful and bounteous if occasion 
 required; and this happy humour had 
 rather increased than diminished when, 
 after having ridden at a slow pace some 
 distance beyond Salisbury Crags, she gave 
 the order for return to the Palace. 
 
 The loyal people were waiting to catch 
 another glimpse of their King and his 
 guardian, and their shouts were more 
 enthusiastic than before, if that could have 
 been. 
 
 There was of a sudden perceptible a 
 certain motion in the crowd, as if some 
 other object than the Eoyal party had 
 attracted its attention. Somebody broke 
 through the barriers ; there was a shout of 
 surprise, and another shout as the gentle- 
 men of the Queen's Guard permitted a 
 woman carrying a child to pass into their 
 midst where their Majesties were surrounded 
 by the nobles. 
 
 *' A boon, your Majesty, a boon, a boon,"
 
 190 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 cried the woman, throwing herself upon her 
 knees before the feet of the Queen's horse, 
 and holding up her child — a bonnie bright- 
 eyed girl — as if hoping by her appearance 
 to strengthen the appeal for favour. 
 
 The Queen, with an exclamation of alarm 
 for the woman's sake, pulled up her 
 horse. 
 
 The woman, who had chosen this time 
 for petitioning her Majesty, was dressed in 
 black, and a thick veil covered her face, 
 entirely concealing her features. The pure 
 innocent face of the child, however, was 
 uncovered, and its expression of sorrow, 
 mingled with childish wonder at the sight 
 she beheld, would have moved a colder 
 heart than that of Queen Margaret. Her 
 Majesty certainly was moved to pity, and 
 the more strongly when the young King 
 bent over his saddle, nodding and laughing 
 to the Httle girl, who smiled sadly in re- 
 sponse to his gaiety. 
 
 *' My good woman," said the Queen, not 
 without a touch of kindness in her strong
 
 THE queen's KIDE. 191 
 
 voice, ^^ you have chosen a strange time 
 and manner of craving a boon from us." 
 
 " Alas, your Majesty, I had no choice of 
 time or manner ; but I implore your pardon 
 if in this I have offended you, and I beseech 
 you hear me." 
 
 '' If you permit her to speak your Majesty 
 will be detained here all day," said Angus, 
 bending toward his Queen. 
 
 Margaret possessed much of the passion- 
 ate nature of her brother, and all his im- 
 petuosity. Any appearance of restraint 
 upon her actions, even by those whose 
 counsels she valued, only urged her into 
 doing what otherwise she might have left 
 undone. At present she was anxious to 
 show herself gracious in the eyes of her 
 people, and would, therefore, in any case, 
 probably have conceded the boon craved by 
 the veiled woman : but the moment Angus 
 attempted to advise her to negative the 
 appeal, she decided to hear it. So, she 
 said graciously — 
 
 "Speak on, my good woman; let us
 
 192 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 know your wishes, and if they be in ac- 
 cordance with law, or require only an ex- 
 tension of charity to you or yours, I promise 
 in the King's name that your boon shall be 
 granted, inasmuch as we love our people." 
 
 Those of the crowd who were near enough 
 to hear these gracious words waved caps 
 and hands tumultuously, and raised the 
 cry— 
 
 *^Long live the Queen — long live the 
 King ! " 
 
 Those who were not near enough to learn 
 what was passing divined that it was some- 
 thing pleasant, and caught up the cry of 
 their neighbours with quite as much en- 
 thusiasm as if they had known the whole 
 matter. 
 
 " The law is sometimes cruel, my liege, 
 sometimes even unjust," said the petitioner 
 in a broken voice, '^ and therefore I appeal 
 to your gracious pity ; I cry for charity to 
 this poor child and to a mother husband- 
 less." 
 
 Queen Margaret bent forward.
 
 THE queen's ride. 193 
 
 " Else, and speak on." 
 
 The woman obeyed. 
 
 '' Dear lady, I see that there is pity in 
 your face," she continued with cheerful 
 voice, '* and I pray the sacred mother, that 
 since your heart has opened in charity to 
 listen to me, that I may have the strength 
 to win from it the shelter that we need." 
 
 *^ What is your peril ? " 
 
 ** My honour and my life are perilled by 
 a man whose evil power has driven me from 
 my home, and left this child and me de- 
 pendent — beggars. All that, my liege, I 
 think we could have borne ; but our name 
 has been unjustly turned to scorn, my dead 
 husband's honesty traduced, and himself 
 condemned to shame that envelopes his 
 memory and his child and I in a cloud so 
 black that we never dare raise our heads 
 again in the eyes of leal men and women. 
 Oh, my dear lady, you who loved your 
 husband, you who love your bonnie bairr), 
 our King, you will not deny me pity, for I 
 know your tender heart, which once held 
 
 TOL. I.
 
 194 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 some regard for me; and I cry upon you 
 in the sweet name of the Virgin Mother to 
 grant me the protection of your strong arm 
 till I can show how very much my hus- 
 band's truth has been maligned." 
 
 ^' His name?" 
 
 '^ My liege, I " 
 
 She faltered and was silent. 
 
 ^' Unveil," said her Majesty, imperatively ; 
 " unveil and let me see your face. Till 
 then I promise nothing." 
 
 Trembling, and with a lingering terror at 
 her heart, the woman raised her thick black 
 veil. 
 
 *' Margaret — Lady Spens," exclaimed the 
 Queen, not in astonishment, but rather as 
 one convinced of a suspicion. 
 
 Upon the instant there rose a murmur in 
 the crowd, a murmur that gradually swelled 
 with exclamations of rage and reprobation, 
 a murmur that boded evil to the poor lady 
 of Spens and to her child. 
 
 At the first sound of that savage murmur 
 of the populace the frightened lady, with a
 
 THE queen's ride. 195 
 
 pale terrified look of appeal toward the 
 Queen, clasped her child tightly to her 
 breast. 
 
 *^What," cried Angus darkly, ''the wife 
 of the attainted traitor, Walter Spens of 
 Halstane ? " 
 
 '' Ay, my lord," responded the lady, flush- 
 ing crimson, and even in that moment of 
 peril unable to subdue her indignation, 
 *' the wife of Walter Spens; but he was no 
 traitor, attainted though he be." 
 
 '' He is condemned," said the nobleman, 
 sternly. • 
 
 " But falsely, falsely condemned," cried 
 the wife, addressing the Queen. " My Hege, 
 my Hege, he loved you and your house, and 
 perished fighting for your cause. I do not 
 know by what mischance he has fallen 
 under this suspicion of his truth ; but I do 
 know that he is innocent. Grant me a few 
 months — a few weeks — of your protection 
 from my enemies and I will show his truth, 
 or, failing, yield to you my life." 
 
 Her eyes brightened, her face glowed, and
 
 196 THE BRAES OF YAREOW. 
 
 her voice rose in the earnest enthusiasm of 
 her appeal. The conviction of truth shone 
 upon her fair face and rung in the sad, 
 almost solemn intonations of her voice. 
 
 *' He is condemned, I say, and this is no 
 place for his defence. Captain Lindsay, I 
 give this lady to your charge." 
 
 But neither Captain Lindsay nor any of 
 the gentlemen of the Guard made the least 
 motion of obedience to the earl's cruel com- 
 mand. 
 
 " Mercy, mercy," cried the lady des- 
 perately, and grasping the rein of the 
 Queen's horse. ^' When our late good 
 King summoned his subjects to follow him 
 to the field my husband was the first to 
 join him. At Norham, at Etall, at Wark, 
 he fought beside his master. When the 
 false Lady Heron of Ford had betrayed the 
 King, Walter Spens was the first to discover 
 her treachery, and risked his life to save 
 that of his master. Surely, surely, my dear 
 lady, you cannot think that this was the 
 man to be false to the King whom he
 
 THE QUEENS RIDE. 197 
 
 served so faithfully, and whom he loved so 
 dearly." 
 
 '^I pray your Majesty, push forward," 
 said Angus sharply, '^ and leave the woman 
 to be examined by the Lords and Council. 
 Advance, gentlemen." 
 
 ''Hold," cried the Queen, impetuously. 
 Then haughtily to the earl — '' You forgot, 
 my lord, to await my authority for the 
 command." 
 
 '* Pardon, your Majesty," said Angus, 
 biting his lip, ''but there is no time to 
 wait. Hearken to the cries of the people ; 
 their hot blood is up, and the woman's hfe 
 will be sacrificed to her foolhardiness. Let 
 her be taken to the Palace, where you can 
 examine her at leisure." 
 
 However sternly Angus had treated the 
 lady's appeal, his warning was certainly in 
 her favour, for by some strange means her 
 name had been caught by the crowd, and 
 the opprobrium with which it was regarded 
 roused angry feelings in the breasts of many 
 and ruffled the tempers of aU. They be-
 
 198 THE BRAES OF YAEROW. 
 
 came impatient, their impatience grew, they 
 became boisterous, and at length when they 
 saw Margaret Spens grasp the Queen's rein 
 a yell of execration broke from them. 
 
 " Down with the traitor's wife," cried one ; 
 and the words were caught up and carried 
 to the limit of the crowd. 
 
 ** Death to the traitor's wife," cried an- 
 other, and these words too were caught up 
 and thrown about until the people swayed 
 to and fro with a terrible meaning in their 
 fierce cries and furious gestures. 
 
 The indignation of the mass became con- 
 centrated into one word — 
 
 ''Death!'' 
 
 There was a wild motion amongst those 
 of the people who were nearest to the object 
 of dishke. 
 
 A body of men broke from the mass and 
 rushed furiously toward the lady, forgetting 
 in their passion all respect for the presence 
 of the Queen, or perhaps fancying that they 
 were about to display the extent of their 
 loyalty.
 
 THE queen's ride. 199 
 
 Before the gentlemen of tlie Guard could 
 interpose to save her, the self-appointed 
 delegates of the people had seized the lady 
 and were dragging her away from the pre- 
 sence of the Queen, to whose rein she clung 
 despairingly. 
 
 *' Back," cried the Queen, imperiously, 
 her eyes flashing irefuUy ; ^' hack, every one 
 of you, or you shall answer for it with your 
 lives." 
 
 *^ She is guilty, she is guilty ! " cried the 
 men, persisting in their attempt to carry off 
 the lady. ♦ 
 
 ^'How, gentlemen," cried the Queen, 
 glancing fiercely around her, ^* are we so 
 poorly guarded that the rabble may with 
 impunity forget the respect due to us ? Fie 
 upon you. Are you such poor men that 
 you would see a woman murdered in your 
 presence and raise no hand to help her ? 
 Upon them, I say : beat them back, and let 
 their own rashness bear the consequences 
 of what ill-hap may befal them." 
 
 Before these indignant words of the
 
 200 THE BRAES OF YAKROW. 
 
 Queen had been concluded the gentlemen 
 of the Guard advanced upon the people, 
 with drawn swords beat them back, and 
 then formed a bulwark shielding the intended 
 victims. 
 
 ^' On to the Palace," commanded the 
 Queen, " and let Mistress Spens go with 
 us." 
 
 One of the gentlemen of the Guard lifted 
 the child on to his saddle-bow, and the lady 
 stood beside the horse. Then the royal party 
 moved hastily onward to Holyrood amidst 
 the dissatisfied murmur of the populace. 
 
 ^'Courage, lady, courage," whispered the 
 guardsman, bending towards Mistress Spens; 
 '*her Majesty will befriend you, do not 
 fear." 
 
 The unfavourable termination of the 
 morning's ride had not left the Queen in 
 the most amiable mood desirable. She was 
 vexed with the people, vexed with Angus, 
 and perplexed by Lady Spens. So she had 
 her robes changed with unusual speed, and 
 summoned her nobles to attend her in the
 
 THE queen's ride. 201 
 
 King's cabinet. She was impatient to 
 have the matter settled, and she had 
 scarcely taken her seat when she spoke 
 brusquely. 
 
 *' My lords, you can divine the business 
 upon which I have thus hastily summoned 
 you. Speak freely, then, for we desire your 
 counsel." 
 
 There was silence. None of those present 
 seemed anxious to be the first to offer an 
 opinion. At length, Douglas — • 
 
 ^^ Since none other will advise your 
 Majesty I must speak. The lady whom 
 your good heart, I see, is disposed to shelter 
 is the wife of a man condemned by your 
 lords in council of the blackest treason. 
 First, under his direction Surrey was 
 enabled secretly to obtain the vantage 
 ground which lost us Flodden ; and second, 
 by his machinations our King has been 
 carried away — murdered, most like. The 
 proofs of his guilt have been examined with 
 due care, and upon them sentence has been 
 pronounced. Your Majesty cannot, in the
 
 202 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 despite of their lordships' judgraent and 
 of the people's voice, revoke that sentence." 
 
 ** I did not seek to know, my lord, what 
 I could not do, but what I should do," said 
 the Queen, sharply. 
 
 Angus moderated his tone as if conscious 
 that he had spoken too boldly. 
 
 ^^ I desire only to help your Majesty to 
 a conclusion that may be in accordance 
 with law and with the wishes of your 
 people." 
 
 '^Proceed." 
 
 *^I have said the proofs of the guilt of 
 Sir Walter Spens were so convincing that 
 he was condemned by the Council, and 
 even those of their lordships who had. 
 known the man and regarded him favour- 
 ably could not gainsay the justice of the 
 sentence. But more than that, there were 
 matters laid before us which implicated 
 this lady in her husband's crime, and orders 
 for her arrest have been issued. Upon all 
 this your Majesty must see that, as Eegent 
 of Scotland and guardian of its laws, you
 
 THE queen's ride. 203 
 
 have no otHer course to follow than to hand 
 this lady over to their lordships to be dealt 
 with by them as they may think just and 
 bright." 
 
 " You have done ? " 
 
 ** I have said, my liege, what I have 
 thought my duty and my love to you re- 
 quired." 
 
 And the earl, bowing low, withdrew a pace. 
 
 The Queen turned to Hamilton. 
 
 " My lord of Arran, you may help to solve 
 this riddle.'' 
 
 The rival earl inclined his head, and with 
 a blunt honesty of expression — 
 
 *^ Not I, my liege, for in troth I am no 
 reader of riddles, even of the plainest sort. 
 I lack the subtility of his lordship of Angus, 
 You will do with the lady and her bairn as 
 may best pleasure your Majesty: but this 
 I say, for many years her goodman was a 
 faithful servant to our King, and I for one 
 do not credit the proofs we have had of his 
 treachery. I have said." 
 
 At a signal from the Queen the door
 
 204 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 opened and Lady Spens was conducted into 
 the chamber by two gentlemen of the 
 Guard. 
 
 Behind her Majesty's chair stood the 
 dark-eyed Mistress Douglas. Her soft lips 
 were compressed, and she regarded the 
 accused lady with an expression in which 
 was mingled pity and suspicion. The sus- 
 picion did not bear upon the question of 
 her complicity in the crime charged against 
 her husband ; it seemed, however, to have 
 some association with the tall, well-made 
 gentleman who stood beside Mistress 
 Spens, and who had brought her to the 
 Palace. The gentleman was Gilbert Elliot. 
 
 Just as the lady was entering, and whilst 
 all eyes were fixed upon her, a page hastily 
 whispered something in the ear of Angus, 
 who replied with one word, and the page 
 retired. 
 
 The Queen spoke with dignified calmness 
 to the kneeling lady. 
 
 *^ Margaret Spens, you have thrust your 
 sorrows upon my attention when they
 
 THE queen's ride. 205 
 
 Bhonld have been carried to those who have 
 the administration of the law in their hands. 
 I am disposed to be merciful; but to the wife 
 of a condemned traitor, to the wife of a 
 man who has been found guilty of falsehood 
 and treachery to his master, our sovereign — 
 my husband — I must be just before I can 
 be pitiful. Therefore I must deliver you to 
 the safe keeping of the lords in council to 
 be dealt with as they may deem just." 
 
 A low moan of pain escaped fron Lady 
 Spens as she covered her pale face with her 
 hands. 
 
 The Queen advanced slowly to her, and 
 to the amazement of every one attempted 
 to raise her kindly from her kneeling 
 posture. 
 
 ** But as Margaret Barras and Spens, my 
 friend, my companion, and my follower, I 
 prove how well I have remembered you by 
 promising that for eight weeks from this 
 day you shall hve under my protection to 
 go and come as you list. At the end of 
 that period I trust you shall have found the
 
 206 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 proofs that will cleanse your husband's 
 honour of the black stain now resting on 
 it. But, whether you have found them or 
 not, I must then complete my duty to the 
 State and resign you to other hands. Eise 
 now ; for a little while we are friends again." 
 
 Lady Spens could only grasp the hands 
 which were given to her in token of pro- 
 tection and friendship, and kiss them with 
 tearful gratitude. 
 
 The unexpected termination of an address 
 which had begun so ominously took all 
 present by surprise — a surprise as happily 
 appeared for the most part to have given 
 satisfaction, although one or two counte- 
 nances expressed doubt of the propriety of 
 what had been done. 
 
 *^ My lords," said her Majesty as she was 
 about to retire, ^^ I trust you will make 
 known my pleasure in this matter ; and for 
 the time I have mentioned I will be 
 bounden for this lady's safe keeping." 
 
 " I pray you, my liege, hear this matter 
 to an end," broke in Angus, hastily.
 
 THE queen's ride. 20T 
 
 *^ I have heard enough for the present, 
 and I have spoken my will." 
 
 ** None here can pity the lady's position 
 more than I — none would be more willing 
 to help her to her desire — but justice must 
 be done. The accuser of her husband and 
 
 herself is within call ' ' 
 
 *^ Ha, say you; let us see the man." 
 ** First let this be understood, that I have 
 promised him safe passage." 
 
 *^ Concerning that we will speak after." 
 " He carries also the safe passage of the 
 Council; for, to avoid the evil that might 
 follow upon the revelation of his crime, his 
 person must be unknown, unless your 
 Majesty will consent to see the man in 
 presence only of their lordships." 
 
 *^ Bring him hither, I say," was the im- 
 patient ejaculation of the Queen; ^^by my 
 sooth, my Lord Angus, it seems that you 
 would have your behest and not mine 
 foUowed." 
 
 **Your Majesty shall be obeyed." 
 
 The earl made a sign to one of the pages,
 
 208 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 and presently a man entered whose dress of 
 coarse materials would have indicated that 
 he belonged to the peasantry, but whose 
 bearing was firm and bold as that of one 
 accustomed to jack and saddle. His face 
 was covered by a cloth mask, and, as if to 
 conceal it as he knelt before the Queen, he 
 bowed his head down low. 
 
 The Queen turned from him with a 
 certain degree of contempt in her manner. 
 
 ^' My Lord Arran, question the fellow." 
 
 *^ Speak, sirrah," said Arran, gruffly; 
 *' what proof have you of this accusation ? " 
 
 *^ The proofs, your lordship knows, have 
 been already given to the Council." 
 
 ** Then what seek you here ? " 
 
 '^This only — that to satisfy all men I 
 have spoken honestly, I denounce, in the 
 Queen's presence, Spens of Halstane a 
 traitor to his King and country ; and swear 
 that I hold full proof that his lady was 
 aware of his treachery. On this I stake 
 my life, and will uphold my words in the 
 lists against any man the lady may find 
 bold enough to defend her cause."
 
 THE queen's ride. 209 
 
 " My liege, my liege," cried Lady Spens, 
 hastily, ''this is " 
 
 '' Hush — let us hear the end." 
 
 '' I take your challenge for my lady^s 
 sake, liar and villain though you be." 
 
 The accuser sprang to his feet and turned 
 fiercely upon the speaker. 
 
 It was Gilbert Elliot who had advanced 
 from his position near the door and stood 
 confronting the accuser. 
 
 '' You speak bravely enough," said the 
 latter, sneering. 
 
 ''And, with the saints' help, will •do 
 what I say. Walter Spens of Halstane is 
 innocent of all thought or word or deed of 
 treachery, and his lady is blameless as the 
 Queen herself. In this fellow who de- 
 nounces them behold Adam Scott of 
 Tushielaw." 
 
 As he spoke he plucked the mask from 
 Tushielaw's face. 
 
 "Fiends burn you!" muttered the 
 Borderer below his breath. 
 
 " Tushielaw," continued Gilbert calmly, 
 
 VOL. I. P
 
 210 THE BRAES OF YAKROW. 
 
 *' the riever, outlaw, and murderer, who 
 seeks to shield himself from the con- 
 sequences of his guilt by casting the blame 
 upon innocent shoulders. I denounce him 
 here before your Majesty and your lordships, 
 and I am ready when and where you list to 
 prove my words upon his body." 
 
 *' Agreed," cried Tushielaw. 
 
 " To-morrow, then, let this matter be 
 decided," said the Queen. 
 
 Accompanied by her ladies, and taking 
 Lady Spens with her, the Queen withdrew. 
 
 Tushielaw bowed to the nobles and seemed 
 anxious to retire. Arran stopped him. 
 
 " Stay, Scott ; you must find some one 
 who will be surety for your appearance 
 to-morrow." 
 
 ** You need not fear that I will fail." 
 
 ^' Natheless, we must have the surety." 
 
 '^ My Lord Angus, then, will answer for 
 me." 
 
 ^' Angus? " exclaimed Arran, raising his 
 heavy eyebrows ; ^' is this so, my lord ? " 
 
 ^^ I will answer for him," said Angus
 
 THE queen's ride. 211 
 
 curtly, as he wheeled about and retired, 
 followed by Tushielaw. 
 
 <« For yon, Master Elliot, we do not 
 donbt that, as a gentleman of the Queen's 
 Guard, you will fulfil your engagement." 
 
 Gilbert saluted their lordships, and 
 quitted the chamber. 
 
 There were only five gentlemen left in 
 the cabinet, Lord Patrick Lindsay (the 
 lawyer), Arran, and three others. 
 
 "What think you, my lords," said Lind- 
 say in a low voice, " of our lady's bearing 
 toward Angus now? Was there anythuig 
 of the lover, think you, in aught she did 
 or said?" 
 
 " Much," replied Arran, bluffly. " She 
 likes not his forward efforts to assume 
 authority ; but, by my hand, not one of us 
 dared have crossed her humour so often as 
 he has done to-day without having been 
 dismissed on the instant." 
 
 " And note you," commented the wily 
 Archbishop of Glasgow (Beaton), " note 
 you how with all the temper wherewith she
 
 212 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 spoke to him, his wish was carried in the 
 end. Soothely, gentlemen, the thing is 
 clear, she checks him bravely in our pre- 
 sence only to hide the favour she yields him 
 in private." 
 
 The countenances of the nobles were 
 dark as they separated, speculating upon 
 the growing influence of the fiery grand- 
 son of Bell-the-Cat.
 
 ( 213 ) 
 
 CHAPTEE XIII. 
 
 cupid's peeplexities. 
 
 " Love's feeling is more soft and sensible 
 Than are the tender horns of cockled snails : 
 Love's tongue proves dainty Bacchus gross in taste ; 
 For valour is not Love a Hercules, 
 Still climbing trees in the Hesperides ? 
 Subtle as sphynx, as sweet and musical 
 As bright Apollo's lute strung with his hair ; 
 And when Love speaks, the voice of all the gods 
 Makes Heaven drowsy with the harmony." 
 
 Love's Lahour^s Lost. 
 
 "• If your hand fail you to-morrow your 
 head will answer for it, mark you." 
 
 '' My hand or sword has never failed me 
 at a pinch yet, and if either fail me to- 
 morrow I shall seek no better than that my 
 head should answer for it." 
 
 These words Gilbert heard as he was
 
 214 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 I 
 
 passing along the principal corridor. The 
 voices were those of Angus and Tushielaw ; 
 and to avoid them he turned into one of the 
 private passages. He had done this upon 
 impulse, and, although he was uncertain as 
 to his course, he hurried along, hoping to 
 find some outlet to another part of the main 
 corridor, or some staircase that might lead 
 him to the court helow. 
 
 But he found neither, and presently he 
 began to grow confused by passages and 
 doors and recesses. He thought of re- 
 tracing his steps, for he now surmised that 
 he was trespassing upon the private cham- 
 bers of her Majesty and her ladies. As 
 this suspicion grew upon him he became 
 decidedly uncomfortable, and the more so 
 when he discovered that he had paid so 
 little heed to the way he had traversed that 
 he was unable to retrace his steps with 
 any certainty of the route. 
 
 He was perplexed, and the situation was 
 awkward enough. Suppose he had got 
 into the sacred quarters of the retiring
 
 Cupid's perplexities. 215 
 
 chambers of her Majesty's ladies, and, 
 suppose he were to be discovered, what 
 possible explanation could he make ? 
 
 He was startled by the opening of a door. 
 A lady came forth and tripped lightly along 
 the corridor. 
 
 She had not observed the intruder, and 
 just as Gilbert was thinking of hiding in the 
 recess of one of the windows he recognized 
 the lady. 
 
 '^ Mistress — my Lady Douglas." 
 
 She looked up quickly, amazed. Her 
 expression was not so bright and happy 
 as usual, but when she perceived the look 
 of profound perplexity and confusion which 
 he wore she laughed merrily. 
 
 «« Why, Master Elliot, what evil spirit 
 hath wiled you hither ? " 
 
 ^^ Two minutes ago I would have called it 
 the evil spirit of stupidity; but now! — 
 I call it the lucky spirit of blunder since 
 it procures me a sight of you." 
 
 She did not seem to take the compliment 
 in the same humour as she had received all
 
 216 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 he said the day before, and now he began 
 to observe that there was a degree of re- 
 straint in her manner, and that much of 
 her gaiety if not all was assumed. 
 
 *^I will be sworn, though, that you would 
 have blest the spirit with more earnest 
 goodwill had it procured you a sight of 
 the fair lady in whose cause you do battle 
 to-morrow? " 
 
 Gilbert flushed slightly, but he answered 
 gallantly enough. 
 
 '^ I scarcely could have had more 
 pleasure in meeting her than I feel at 
 present." 
 
 *'That is what you say." 
 
 ^' And what I feel, albeit I honour 
 Mistress Spens deeply." 
 
 " Honour her — you would say love her, 
 would you not? " 
 
 He looked honestly into the depths of 
 her clear searching eyes. 
 
 "I would, perhaps, if I had dared." 
 
 Mistress Douglas tossed her pretty head 
 proudly, and there was even a shade of
 
 Cupid's perplexities. 217 
 
 coldness in the expression whicli over- 
 spread her features. 
 
 " She is the wife of your benefactor, 
 who hves still, perhaps." 
 
 "Pray Heaven that he does," he cried 
 earnestly. 
 
 She was, as it seemed, a little sur- 
 prised by his earnestness; and impulsively 
 plucked a ribbon from her breast. Her 
 first movement was as if she were about 
 to present him with the favour, but with 
 the same impulsiveness that she had 
 taken it from her breast she stayed ber 
 hand, and began slyly to twine the ribbon 
 round her fairy fingers. Coquettish ? Yes, 
 if you will, but there was something more 
 than mere coquetry underlying all. 
 
 " Suppose her husband did come back, 
 would you not be sorry ? ' ' 
 
 " Sorry? — ah, madam, if you knew with 
 what reverence I regard him you would 
 not ask." 
 
 " Keverence deep enough and strong 
 enough even to yield to him the woman 
 you love ? "
 
 218 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 " If that were necessary even that would 
 not mar my pleasure in knowing that he 
 lived." 
 
 '* If that were necessary ? " she repeated, 
 fixing her eyes upon him searchingly. 
 
 He did not catch her meaning, and so 
 answered blindly — 
 
 " I would do it — do you think me cold 
 in saying so ? " 
 
 ^^No, no," she said slowly; ^^but since 
 Mistress Spens is not your lover you will 
 be all the happier should your friend still 
 live. But say, whose favours will you wear 
 to-morrow ? " 
 
 The last sentence was added hastily as 
 if she feared the answer the former words 
 might have received, seeing that he flushed 
 and looked awkward. 
 
 Women are surely inconsistent even to 
 themselves ; at any rate here was one who 
 was so. She wished to know the nature 
 of his regard for Lady Spens, and yet 
 when she stood upon the threshold of the 
 knowledge she desired she flew away from
 
 Cupid's pekplexities. 219 
 
 it as a dove miglit be frightened away by 
 the opening of the door under the eaves 
 of which it had sought shelter. 
 
 *^ I did not think of favours, my lady ; 
 but if you will let me wear yours I will 
 try to be worthy of them." 
 
 ''Wear this, then, for me to-morrow." 
 
 She gave him the ribbon, and he touched 
 it with his lips. Then he hid it away 
 beneath the breast of his doublet. 
 
 '' I will wear it, and if I fall my last 
 thought will be with you and with the 
 poor lady to whose cause I shall have 
 wrought such grievous wrong." 
 
 Mistress Mary liked the promise, but she 
 would have liked it better perhaps had the 
 latter words been omitted. 
 
 She had not much time to think of this, 
 however, for she was startled by the sudden 
 appearance of her brother Angus, following 
 a page. The surprise was reciprocal, and 
 a dark scowl gathered upon the Earl's brow 
 as he recognized Gilbert. 
 
 ''I see the gentlemen of her Majesty's
 
 220 THE BRAES OF YARKOW. 
 
 Guard are privileged," lie said sneer- 
 ingly. 
 
 '^ Even as earls are sometimes," re- 
 torted his sister briskly, overcoming in an 
 instant all the confusion with which she 
 had first seen him approach. 
 
 His lordship's eyes kindled and his cold 
 handsome face became darker than before. 
 
 ^' You answer sharply, mistress. But 
 since you are sister of mine I would have 
 you choose your gossips with a little more 
 discretion." 
 
 ** How, my lord " broke in Gilbert 
 
 sternly, and crimsoning to the roots of his 
 hair. 
 
 At a signal of one of the lady's fingers 
 he checked himself and was silent — silent 
 even when Angus turned his cold eyes 
 upon him contemptuously. 
 
 '* I have my v/hims, brother, as you have, 
 and since I owe this gentleman my life, 
 one of my whims is to call him friend." 
 
 *' Your whims, mistress, must have 
 guidance ; and since you hold your name
 
 Cupid's perplexities. 221 
 
 so lightly, I will see that the guidance is 
 more strictly followed." 
 
 " My lord, my lord," interrupted Gilbert, 
 ^^ you forget that I am here whilst you 
 speak thus to a lady." 
 
 " Nay, let him proceed : it is one of 
 my brother's whims to show his strength 
 upon the least provocation," cried the 
 little lady, laughing gaily. ^^But to give 
 you comfort, sweet brother, I will tell you 
 that I am taking this gentleman to see 
 the lady for whom he risks his life 
 to-morrow. Come, Master ElHot, this 
 way." 
 
 And laughing merrily, as if she had 
 outwitted her brother cleverly with an ex- 
 cellent jest, she moved gracefully down 
 one of the passages, followed by Gilbert. 
 He followed, however, with an indecisive 
 step, for he was not quite sure that he 
 should take advantage of the stratagem 
 which the cunning pretty head of his new 
 friend had fallen upon to rescue him from 
 the wrath of her brother. But it saved
 
 222 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 her also, he thought ; and that thought 
 was enough for him. 
 
 When they had got beyond hearing of 
 Angus he spoke. 
 
 ^'We seem to be moving away from the 
 corridor, Mistress Douglas. Where are we 
 going?'' 
 
 ^^You shall see." 
 
 That was the only answer he could 
 obtain, and his comprehension of the 
 locality became rapidly more and more 
 vague. At length his guide paused before 
 one of the many doors in a long corridor. 
 
 She tapped gently, and upon being 
 bidden to enter she opened the door, 
 looked in, then motioned Gilbert to follow, 
 and he found himself in the presence of 
 Lady Spens and Alice. 
 
 The fair-haired Httle one ran up to him 
 gleefully, holding out her pretty hands to 
 him, the while her eyes brightened and 
 her bonny young face was full of smiling 
 welcome. 
 
 He kissed his young friend tenderly, and
 
 Cupid's perplexities. 223 
 
 whilst holding her to his breast with one 
 arm — she availing herself of the oppor- 
 tunity to twist and knot his long hair — 
 he gave the disengaged hand to Lady 
 Spens. 
 
 Mistress Mary had taken her place by 
 the window, and, pretending to be in- 
 terested in something without, she with 
 sidelong glances observed all that passed. 
 
 **You are sad, madam, and seem paler 
 even than yesterday." 
 
 " I did not know of to-morrow then, and 
 therefore had so much less to fear." 
 
 ^' You fear, then, that this villain will 
 prove your cause a false one?" 
 
 "In the eyes of men he may; in the 
 eyes of Heaven he cannot. But it is not 
 that — I feel that your arm, nerved by a 
 warm noble heart, will sustain the truth 
 of the cause you defend; but, but " 
 
 "But what, lady?" 
 
 "I scarce can answer you, for I scarce 
 can comprehend the nature of my fears. 
 Ah, Gilbert, my brother — for you are all
 
 224 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 a brother could be to me — were you to 
 die I think your death would rest upon 
 me like a crime. I think that it would 
 kill me." ^ 
 
 Gilbert held up the smiHng child, and,, 
 looking at her, spoke. 
 
 *'And you, my bonny Aly, how would 
 you live with only old Andrew to care for 
 you?" 
 
 Aly opened her big blue eyes and looked 
 at him as if she were very wisely specu- 
 lating upon the problem he had set before 
 her. 
 
 ''We couldn't do without mamma," she 
 said, nodding her head and reaching over 
 to make another knot in his hair. 
 
 Lady Spens rested her hand upon his 
 arm, pressing it warmly. 
 
 '' Thanks, Gilbert ; that is all I can 
 offer, and thanks seem so very poor when 
 balanced against your great sacrifice. But 
 I read the lesson you would teach, and 
 I will foUow it." 
 
 '' I'll fight the stouter on the morrow, 
 knowing that."
 
 Cupid's perplexities. 225 
 
 "Then take you this. My hushand gave 
 it me and said it was a talisman to guard 
 from harm the name of Spens. I give it 
 you, and pray its virtue may appear now, if 
 ever, since by your strength the honour 
 of the name is to be maintained." 
 
 She threw round his neck a chain of 
 gold, to which was pendant a jewelled 
 crucifix of rare value. He inclined his 
 head in acknowledgment of the gift ; 
 when he did so she kissed him on the 
 brow, resting her hands an instant upon 
 his head as if in unspoken prayer she 
 sought a benediction for him. 
 
 " You shall conquer," she cried, with a 
 glow of inspiration. 
 
 "I will," he answered quietly, confident 
 in his cause. 
 
 '^ Now, Master Elliot," broke in Mistress 
 Douglas -with a degree of impatience, ^^I 
 am ready to conduct you safely hence." 
 
 " Thanks, thanks, I attend. Good-bye, 
 Aly, my bonny lass. Good-bye, madam, 
 until to-morrow, when you shall raise your 
 
 YOL. I. Q
 
 226 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 head with the noblest, when the honour of 
 your husband shall be purified and shown 
 to the world stainless as it ever has been." 
 
 He quitted the chamber, and presently 
 was in sight of the main corridor. He 
 clasped the dainty hand of his guide 
 warmly. 
 
 '' Farewell." 
 
 He seemed to wish to say more without 
 being able to find words to say it. 
 
 ^^You say farewell to me," she said, a 
 little coldly. 
 
 " I dare not say more." 
 
 '' Dare not ? " 
 
 " Or, if I dare, I would say only this — 
 I would that I might love you as I feel you 
 should be loved." 
 
 The hand he held trembled in his, and 
 there was something humid glistening in 
 the dark bright eyes. 
 
 *'You are a riddle. Master Elhot," she 
 said with affected gaiety — a gaiety which 
 only showed the more plainly that some- 
 thing troubled her. ^^You are a riddle
 
 Cupid's perplexities. 227 
 
 which I fear my poor head will never be 
 able to read. Adieu." 
 
 She snatched her hand away and hastily 
 disappeared, leaving Gilbert with the 
 thought that he too had found a riddle 
 which he could not read. One thing, 
 however, he knew, that he had never be- 
 fore seen sun and shade keep such close 
 company as they appeared to do in the 
 person of pretty Mistress Douglas. 
 
 Two men were standing in the dark at 
 the head of one of the outside staircases 5n 
 the Canongate side of the Netherbow Port. 
 
 *'He stays at Mrs. Nicol's, in the Cow- 
 gate," said one. 
 
 ^a'U find the place." 
 
 " Give him this note ; it appoints a 
 meeting at the Harestone on the moor." 
 
 "Weel?" 
 
 " He will follow you." 
 
 ** An' syne, when he's there ? " 
 
 *^ Strike him down as you would a fatted 
 bullock."
 
 228 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 '* Supposing the folk find him, will they 
 no suspect ? " 
 
 *^ Chut — carry him to the Tower. They 
 will not find him there." 
 
 ^a'll do yoar will." 
 
 And the two men separated.
 
 ( 229 ) 
 
 CHAPTEE XIV. 
 
 THE TEST OF TKUTH. 
 
 "And a trumpet pealing wild and far 
 'Midst the ancient rocks was blown, 
 Till the Alps replied to that voice of war 
 
 With a thousand of their own ; 
 And through the forest glooms * 
 
 Flash'd helmets to the day, 
 And the wind was tossing knightly plumes 
 Like pine-boughs in their play." 
 
 Mrs. Hemans. 
 
 ^'Ye'll gang to see the sport the-day, 
 neebor? " 
 
 '' Certes, ay." 
 
 The questioner was a wiry little sharp- 
 faced weaver, with a cast in his eye which 
 gave him a decidedly malicious expression 
 of comitenance, albeit the man was, in
 
 230 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 sooth, one of the simplest, save in the 
 matter of pohtics, whereon he was prepared 
 to tackle the whole Town Council, Provost, 
 Bailies, and all. 
 
 The respondent was a burly short-legged 
 flesher, whose round jovial countenance 
 would have suggested a jovial disposition, 
 and would have been florid only the keen 
 frosty air of the misty morning tinged it 
 blue. He had an honest admiration for 
 muscle in a man, just as he had an honest 
 admiration for flesh on a bullock. There- 
 fore he answered his neighbour's question 
 with the tone of one anticipating a rare 
 treat. 
 
 The place was the rackety jumble of 
 odd picturesque wooden buildings lying 
 against the Kirk of St. Giles, and known 
 as the Luckenbooths. The light of the 
 winter day had not dawned yet, but with 
 the help of oil lamps and flickering candles 
 the industrious citizens were already astir 
 and putting their shops in order for the 
 day's business. And as light after light
 
 THE TEST OF TRUTH. 231 
 
 twinkled in the shops like glowworms in 
 the dark the theme of gossip between' 
 neighbour and neighbour was the forth- 
 coming combat between the champion of 
 Halstane's lady and the unknown accuser 
 of herself and husband. 
 
 The news of the trial had been passed 
 from mouth to mouth, from hostelry to 
 hostelry, on the previous evening, and the 
 whole city was agog with the topic. 
 Popular favour was all against the un- 
 fortunate accused, and all on the side of 
 the unknown accuser. The fact of the 
 latter concealing his name militated in no 
 degree against his credit, for the rancour 
 of kinsmen and followers was well under- 
 stood, and no blame was attached to the 
 man who attempted to avoid hereditary 
 feud. Had any excuse for his reserve 
 been needed it would have been found in 
 the recent case of Sir Eobert Ker of 
 Fairniehirst, Warden of the Middle 
 Marches, who having been murdered by 
 three Borderers, his kinsmen persistently
 
 232 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 followed the assassins for months until 
 they had killed two of them, and only 
 allowed the third (the Bastard Heron) to 
 escape on crediting a report of his death. 
 
 So, the folks having gone to hed with 
 the comhat between them and their beads, 
 wakened in the morning with it fresh in 
 their memory. Thus the weaver — 
 
 ^^ There'll be braw sport, quotha." 
 
 ^^I'm thinking sae, for a roystering 
 sodger lad tauld me yestreen that the 
 leddy's champion is a Gentleman of the 
 Queen's Guard, and as stout a callant as 
 ye micht wish to see." 
 
 '' Puir laddie, it mun be some silly notion 
 o' romance that's made him ready to throw 
 awa' his life for sic a cause. It'll be a lang 
 day and a short ane afore ye catch me 
 in sic like folly." 
 
 '' I would be bounden for ye to keep the 
 peace mysel', neebor — wi' your hands at 
 any rate," answered the flesher with a big 
 fatty guffaw; whereat the weaver body 
 winced, thinking with some reason that
 
 THE TEST OF TKUTH. 233 
 
 his manly courage was being called in 
 question. 
 
 ^^ I hope ye dinna think I'd hear mysel' 
 misca'd without knowing what for ? " 
 
 He contrived, with the assistance of his 
 squint, to look very fierce as he put the 
 question. 
 
 *' Nay, nay, ye'd hand your ain wi' ony 
 o' us, gentle or simple, nae doot, nae doot," 
 responded the burly flesher patronizingly, 
 and stretching his short legs as long as he 
 could to raise his round body up to the 
 hook upon which he was hanging his sign. 
 
 More might have followed upon this 
 head, for the weaver was not easily to be 
 put down so long as his tongue might 
 defend his dignity; but the attention of 
 the neighbours was attracted by the ap- 
 proach of a man from the direction of 
 St. Mary's Stair. An old man, whose dress 
 was somewhat disarranged, and whose 
 countenance expressed alarm enough to 
 suggest that he had seen some unusual 
 spectacle at the shrine of St. Mary in the
 
 234 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 niclie above the wall at the head of the 
 stair. 
 
 He saw the flesher gazing at him 
 curiously. He stopped and gripped the 
 burly little man by the arm. 
 
 ^^Eh, eh, what's like the matter wi' ye, 
 my man?" cried the flesher, wriggling in 
 the iron grasp and striving to conceal his 
 terror. 
 
 ^'Will they let me through the Port 
 yet?" 
 
 *' Gude sake, dinna grip sae hard — whatna 
 Port ? " 
 
 ^^Thatane." 
 
 He pointed in the direction of the Nether- 
 bow. 
 
 *^ Hu, ay, I think they will no object." 
 
 *^ Are ye no sure?" 
 
 ^^I dinna ken — it's near the time for the 
 Port till open — it's open, I think, but Deacon 
 Simpson next door'U tell ye a' about it." 
 
 The man released the flesher and dived 
 into the next shop. 
 
 ** Gude save's, the man's daft."
 
 THE TEST OF TRUTH. 235 
 
 *' Ay, an' I'm thinking ye werena jest sae 
 ready till take your ain wi' him as ye micht 
 hae been." 
 
 '* Hoots, man, wha wid harm a daftie ? " 
 
 And the flesher disappeared within doors. 
 
 *' What's your name?" said the Deacon, 
 in half-finished toilet, answering to the 
 furious summons of the stranger. 
 
 '^ Andrew Howie." 
 
 ^^ What do you want?" 
 
 ^'Tae get till Holyrood." 
 
 ^^ Aye, man, what's that for ? " 
 
 ^' I maun see the Captain o' the Queens's 
 Guard." 
 
 ^'Im — possible." 
 
 The word was pronounced with all the 
 emphasis of ofiicial authority. 
 
 " Damn it, I mun see him," cried Andrew, 
 striking the counter with his clenched 
 fist. 
 
 *^ Weel, I'm no the Captain o' the Guard, 
 and he doesna bide here." 
 
 The Deacon retired into the depths of his 
 shop, and Andrew, looking demented enough
 
 236 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 to justify the fleslier's observation, was 
 about to leave. 
 
 The Deacon reappeared. 
 
 *^ Hey, my man, what for is't ye want till 
 see the Captain." 
 
 ^' It's about the fecht that's to come off 
 the-day." 
 
 A few minutes' conversation with the 
 Deacon, and that worthy was seen by his 
 neighbours scudding down the High Street 
 with Andrew. 
 
 When they reached Holyrood daylight 
 was beginning to break. They demanded 
 to see the Captain of the Queen's Guard. 
 The sentinels would not let them pass, 
 answering that the Captain could not be 
 seen till after the joust. 
 
 '^ I mun see him before it comes on," 
 persisted Andrew. 
 
 He was again, refused admission per- 
 emptorily. Andrew became obstreperous, 
 the Deacon was explanatory ; but, in spite 
 of all, they were finally, much to the 
 Deacon's indignation, both locked up in 
 the guard-house.
 
 THE TEST OF TRUTH. 237 
 
 The day advanced. The red winter sun 
 shone coldly through the fleecy clouds of 
 mist. The citizens were crowding to the 
 scene of trial, burgesses, apprentices, and 
 all were making a holiday on the occasion, 
 and the corporation availed themselves of 
 the opportunity to display their insignia. 
 The waulkers (surgeons), barbers, skinners, 
 and furriers ; the goldsmiths, hammermen, 
 Wrights, and masons ; the tailors, baxters, 
 fleshers, and cordiners ; the websters and 
 bonnet-makers — all were going to the fair 
 with glee-expectant faces and loud-spoken 
 jests. The craftsmen's wives and daughters, 
 too — sonsy and lean — were of the merry- 
 makers, and much shy wooing was achieved 
 by the young folk, so that the gala had a 
 better side than the sanguinary one to be 
 witnessed within the lists. 
 
 The lists had been formed in the hollow 
 beneath the Calton Hill and near Greenside 
 Well. The spot chosen was almost the 
 same on which a few years later was ridden 
 the tourney to reach which, and to display
 
 238 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 his hardihood before Mary of Guise, the 
 hot-headed Earl of Bothwell urged his steed 
 down the steep of C alt on Hill. 
 
 Over the brow of the hill the people 
 crowded, and beneath them were the 
 soldiers from the Castle — the horse-troopers 
 forming an outer square, the archers and 
 arque-busiers the inner. A pavilion with 
 a silken canopy studded with gold had been 
 hastily raised early in the morning for the 
 Queen Regent, the King, and Court. 
 
 Tents had been erected at the respective 
 ends of the lists for the combatants, and all 
 looked as if the event were to be merely 
 some carpet tournament and not a dogged 
 struggle between two men for life — a 
 struggle, too, upon which hung the honour 
 and life of a gentle lady and the fortune 
 of her child. 
 
 There was certainly earnest purpose to 
 give the contest zest. 
 
 A little while before the sun reached its 
 meridian the loyal shouts of ^' Long live 
 the Queen," and ^^Long live the King,"
 
 THE TEST OF TRUTH. 2 39 
 
 announced the approacli of the royal party, 
 and yet there had heen no appearance of 
 either combatant. 
 
 ^^Whar are the fechters?" queries our 
 pugnacious flesher. 
 
 *^ Whar ye wouldna Hke to be," quoth 
 gossip weaver, the cynic. 
 
 Below their Majesties and the Court, and 
 on their left-hand side, was seated in the 
 royal pavilion the pale-faced Lady Spens, 
 with Alice on her knee. To the latter 
 the sight was a rare one, and she enjoyed 
 it amazingly in happy ignorance of ii;s 
 importance to herself and mother. Both 
 were dressed in white, in token of inno- 
 cence : the fate of the combat would decide 
 whether or not these robes of purity were 
 to be covered by the significant black gown 
 which an attendant bore in readiness. She 
 had received another token of her Majesty's 
 kindness in being permitted a place in the 
 royal pavilion ; and here, pallid, beautiful, 
 and sad, she waited the issue of her fate. 
 
 '^ Will your man come, my lord, think
 
 240 THE BRAES OF YAKROW. 
 
 you ? " said Angus drily, looking at 
 Arran. 
 
 ''I do not doubt ; are you sure of 
 yours ? " was the quick response. 
 
 '^ Surely, for yonder comes the — ruffian, 
 if the term likes your lordship." 
 
 And as he spoke Tushielaw, accompanied 
 by the giant Ding-a'-doon and the dwarf 
 Hornie, rode up to the hsts and entered his 
 tent. 
 
 ^^I am glad of that," said Arran gruffly,. 
 ^' for it would have been a sorry sight to see 
 my Lord Angus enter the field in the shoes 
 of a petty Border riever." 
 
 The sun rose nearer and nearer to the 
 meridian, and still the champion of Halstane 
 had not arrived. 
 
 With a woeful aching eagerness the sad 
 eyes of the poor lady were strained toward 
 the city seeking vainly for the appearance 
 of Gilbert. He was late — he was late, and 
 the sun was passing on its way with such 
 cruel haste. Why did he delay so? — ^he 
 whose soul was devoted to the cause he
 
 THE TEST OF TRUTH. 241 
 
 was that day to serve ? Oh, lie was late, 
 strangely late ! 
 
 There were other eyes than hers turned 
 with eagerness toward the city : those dark 
 eyes of Mistress Douglas. From her place 
 behind the Queen she, too, watched for his 
 coming, and impatient thoughts whirled 
 through her mind, vainly seeking any 
 plausible excuse for his delay. She could 
 find none. 
 
 The boom of the heavy gun from the 
 Castle proclaimed that the sun had reached 
 its meridian, and even the Queen glancod 
 quickly in the direction whence the champion 
 should have arrived. 
 
 The Sheriff advanced into the lists and 
 read the terms and cause of the trial by 
 combat that was about to take place. Then 
 the opponents were summoned to appear. 
 
 Tushielaw stepped forth from his tent 
 answering to the designation of the ^' Un- 
 known." He wore a mask upon his face 
 and close-fitting garments of velvet and 
 wool. 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 242 THE BRAES OF YAHROW. 
 
 He advanced to the Eoyal pavilion amidst 
 the shouts of the people, and made his 
 reverence ; after that he retired to his tent 
 again. 
 
 The opponents were a second time sum- 
 moned. Tushielaw rode out in complete 
 armour, and then, resting upon his spear, 
 waited in readiness for his antagonist. 
 
 *^Will he never come?" moaned the 
 lady, her heart growing sick with terror. 
 
 A third time Gilbert Elliot, Esquire, and 
 Gentleman of the Queen's Guard, was 
 summoned by name. Thrice the trumpet 
 sounded its challenge. 
 
 But Gilbert Elliot did not answer.
 
 ( 243 ) 
 
 CHAPTEE XV. 
 
 THE MYSTEKY OF THE ABBEY CHAPEL. 
 
 *' A noble temper dost thou show in this ; 
 And great affections, wrestling in this bosom, 
 Do make an earthquake of nobility. 
 Oh, what a noble combat hast thou fought 
 Between compulsion and a brave respect ! 
 Let me wipe off this honourable dew 
 That silverly doth progress on thy cheeks." 
 
 King John. 
 
 When tlie last sound of the trumpet had 
 died among the hills ; when the people, for 
 a moment dumb with mingled disappoint- 
 ment of their sport, and wonder at the 
 non-appearance of the lady's champion, let 
 loose their voices in one loud shout of con- 
 gratulation to the victor of the unfought 
 field; when the child- King, directed by
 
 244 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 Angus, and little dreaming of the sad im- 
 port of his act, threw down his truncheon — 
 then Mistress Spens knew that it was all 
 over, and that dishonour must rest upon her 
 husband and his name for ever. 
 
 A cold hand of ice semed to enclasp her 
 heart, and, benumbed in limb and brain, she 
 sat with hands closed spasmodically staring 
 blankly before her. 
 
 The Queen, pale and excited herself, 
 averted her gaze ; she could not endure 
 the speechless agony of the woman who, 
 in happy days long ago, was her companion 
 and friend. 
 
 The smooth white brow of Mistress Doug- 
 las was dark; her pretty mouth was com- 
 pressed tightly ; and her eyes burned angrily 
 as they glanced from the single combatant 
 in the lists to the condemned lady. Gloomy 
 thoughts occupied her mind ; gloomy doubts, 
 which were quickly driven away by still 
 more gloomy fears. 
 
 ^^'Sdeath," muttered Arran, frowning, 
 '* there is something out of joint here."
 
 THE MYSTERY OF THE ABBEY CHAPEL. 245 
 
 ^^ The fellow lias repented his rashness in 
 championing a worthless cause," suggested 
 Angus, smiling coldly. 
 
 *^ By my sword, my Lord Angus, he is no 
 true man who can smile at the ill-hap of 
 yonder poor lass." 
 
 Angus glanced towards the lady and the 
 smile left his countenance. For once the 
 quenchless thirst of ambition and all its 
 attendant jealousies were forgotten in an 
 honest impulse. 
 
 *^You are right, Arran ; this is no jest, 
 albeit I had a mind to treat it so." • 
 
 In truth, he had smiled rather at the 
 discomfiture of his rival than with any 
 thought of those who were to suffer the 
 consequences of the mishap that had oc- 
 curred. 
 
 Having waited his due time in the lists 
 for his opponent, Tushielaw raised his lance 
 from the ground, and touching his horse 
 lightly with his heels cantered up to the 
 front of the Eoyal pavilion. 
 
 The Queen rose to proclaim the decision
 
 246 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 of the event. A stern expression overcast 
 her masculine features, and none doubted 
 what the decision would be. 
 
 The attendant with her black robe stood 
 ready to throw it over the condemned, and 
 the murmurs of the populace were gradually 
 becoming subdued. 
 
 There was a movement amongst the 
 gentlemen of the Guard which at this mo- 
 ment attracted attention. An old man was 
 forcing his way amongst the horses. His 
 head was uncovered, and his long iron-grey 
 hair was tossed about his head and face by 
 the wind. His look was wild and anxious, 
 and he seemed to be indifferent to all 
 danger and all awe of the august person- 
 ages towards whom he was pushing his 
 way. Several attempts were made to stop 
 him. 
 
 '^ It's the life o' yon puir leddy and her 
 bairn ye're taking in stopping me," he cried. 
 
 The look of anguish and the whole bear- 
 ing of the man pleaded eloquently for him, 
 and he was allowed to pass.
 
 THE MYSTERY OF THE ABBEY CHAPEL. 247 
 
 He readied Captain Lindsay, and pre- 
 sently the Captain advanced with him to 
 the pavilion, holding in his hand a scrap of 
 paper which Andrew had given him. 
 
 The attention of the Queen and her 
 Com't had been attracted by this unusual 
 scene, and the business which was going 
 forward was for an instant interrupted. 
 
 ^^ Pardon, my liege," said the Captain 
 in his abrupt way, but with a degree of 
 earnestness visible through his sharp cold 
 manner — ^* pardon the boldness with which 
 I present myself, but it concerns the busi- 
 ness in hand nearly." 
 
 '' Speak on." 
 
 There was a quick movement of her 
 Majesty's brows as if she almost hoped 
 that some explanation was about to relieve 
 her of the necessity of pronouncing the 
 verdict which, for the sake of the poor lady 
 before her, she would fain leave unspoken. 
 
 Andrew Howie was kneeHng beside the 
 Captain with hands clasped and a look of 
 pitiable appeal.
 
 248 THE BRAES OF YARR0A7. 
 
 '^ This man," said the Captain, ''was the 
 attendant of the deserter Gilbert EUiot, 
 and he avers that there has been some 
 treachery at work to cause the failure of 
 the day." 
 
 '' Say you ! — what treachery ? " 
 
 *' That is not known yet, my liege." 
 
 '' Upon what ground, then, does his sus- 
 picion rest, and toward whom is it di- 
 rected ? " queried Arran. 
 
 " Last night, my lord, when Master Elliot 
 was preparing his armour for to-day's en- 
 counter a messenger sought him at his 
 lodgings and delivered him this epistle." 
 
 The Captain handed the scrap of paper to 
 Arran. His lordship looked at the docu- 
 ment frowning. 
 
 ''Where is some clerk to decipher these 
 marks ? " he said, gruffly looking about him 
 for assistance. 
 
 "With your lordship's leave," said the 
 Archbishop Beaton. 
 
 He took the paper and scanned it quickly. 
 
 " It is an invitation of a woman's tracing,
 
 THE MYSTERY OF THE ABBEY CHAPEL. 249 
 
 your Majesty," commented the Archbisliop, 
 raising his heavy eyebrows suspiciously. 
 
 *'Eead, my lord." 
 
 ^^ If Gilbert Elliot ivill dare to follow he 
 tolio hears this to the Place he tvill conduct 
 him to J he tuill save one tuho loves him from 
 grievous harm,''' 
 
 "There are initial letters here," said 
 Beaton, ''but what they are passes my 
 sight to say with surety. They are like 
 M. S., and yet again like M. D." 
 
 '' Say you, sirrah, what followed this," 
 broke in Angus, addressing Andrew, the 
 while he plucked his beard angrily. 
 
 He had a suspicion as to the real 
 character of the doubtful initials, and he 
 cast a sidelong glance upon his sister, but 
 her face was inscrutable — it was wrathful, 
 alarmed, and anxious all at once. 
 
 ''Is it me your lordships want to speak? " 
 gasped Andrew, excitedly. 
 
 " You heard the question." 
 
 " Ay, my lords and your Majesty, and I'll 
 tell ye a' that happened when the chap cam'
 
 250 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 wi' the paper. Maister Elliot looked 
 dootfu' like and wasna for ganging. He 
 asked the loon wha sent him, and he said a 
 woman. Syne Maister Elliot swithered and 
 lookit hard at the chap, and I prayed him 
 for my leddy's sake no till risk his life in 
 ganging he didna ken whar. ' I mann haste 
 back to the leddy that sent me,' quo' the 
 messenger, and turned about as if he was 
 going to start his lane. * Stop,' says 
 Maister Elliot, ' I'll gang wi' ye, my man ; 
 but mind ye I carry a sword.' *It disna 
 matter a boddle to me gin ye carried twa,' 
 said the chap, as brisk as ye like. When 
 that was said Maister Elliot turned to me 
 and gied me that paper. ' If onything 
 happens, Andrew, to keep me awa frae here 
 till the morning, ye'll ken that it's something 
 by ordinar — in fact, if I am no in the lists 
 the-morn an hour before noon ye'll ken that 
 I am a dead man. Take this paper to 
 Captain Lindsay, say there's been treachery 
 at work, and ask him to find out its meaning.' 
 *Dinna gang,' I said, ^for ye risk my leddy's
 
 THE MYSTERY OF THE ABBEY CHAPEL. 251 
 
 life and honour as well as your ain.' But lie 
 took anither look at yon bit paper, syne 
 pu'd his bonnet over his broos and gaed 
 awa. I waited a' nicht and he didna come 
 back ; and this morning I came to the 
 Palace yett, but the sodger wouldna let me 
 in to see the Captain, and when I said I 
 maun get in, he clappit me and a frien' into 
 a black hole and keepit us there till jist a 
 wee whylie syne, when an officer cam' and 
 speered what we were doing there, and 
 when I told him he let us out, and I cam' 
 here to pray for help and justice. My lords 
 and your Eoyal Majesty, it's no Maister 
 Elliot's faut that he's no here the-day. It's 
 because he's murdered." 
 
 *^ This matter must have further inquiry, 
 my lords," said the Queen, flushing with 
 anger. ^' Tell them the verdict on to-day's 
 trial shall not be yet pronounced." 
 
 She did not even glance toward the man 
 who was waiting to learn from her lips that 
 his conduct that day had proved the truth 
 of his assertions. She made a movement
 
 252 THE BRAES OF YAUROW. 
 
 indicative of her desire to leave tlie pavilion, 
 which was promptly obeyed by the Court. 
 
 '' Captain Lindsay," said Arran darkly, 
 ^^ we shall require the attendance of yonder 
 fellow at the Palace." 
 
 He nodded toward Tushielaw, who sat 
 upon his horse in the position in which he 
 had expected to receive honour and con- 
 gratulation, gnawing his lips beneath his 
 mask, and in his heart cursing the ill-hap 
 which had temporarily at least marred his 
 triumph. 
 
 He was escorted from the lists by a couple 
 of troopers. 
 
 When the people saw the Court rising, 
 saw Lady Spens being taken away still in 
 her white robes, and the victor under arrest 
 — for, quietly as the arrest had been 
 managed, it could not be entirely con- 
 cealed — when they observed the confusion 
 that prevailed, neighbour questioned neigh- 
 bour as to the meaning of it all. Then 
 voices rose in murmurs of dissatisfaction, 
 and the murmurs swelled until they rolled
 
 THE MYSTERY OF THE ABBEY CHAPEL. 253 
 
 in restless waves against tlie heads of the 
 Sheriffs and the Provost. 
 
 But these gentlemen had only a very 
 hazy notion of the real nature of what had 
 occurred ; so when it behoved them to stem 
 the tumult that was rapidly rising, and 
 bidding fair to overwhelm them, the march 
 of the soldiery was hastily stayed. There 
 was riding and spurring hither and thither, 
 and clamouring everywhere. 
 
 At length one of the Sheriffs was enabled 
 to speak with a degree of confidence as to 
 what had turned the current of affairs — that 
 some foul play had been discovered, and 
 that the Court would not deliver judgment 
 until the whole matter had been properly 
 sifted . 
 
 The people grumbled, and were disposed 
 to have the hero of the day brought back to 
 them, so that they might crown him with a 
 victory, whether it was the Eoyal will or no. 
 
 Then the Sheriffs and Provost and Bailies 
 altogether reminded the grumbling populace 
 that, if they defied the Eoyal authority in
 
 254 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 this instance, not one of their own lives 
 would be safe, not a plack's worth of their 
 property could be held securely for a single 
 hour. 
 
 The weathercock crowd hereupon veered 
 round to a reflection on its own interests, 
 and, deciding that they were of more im- 
 portance than the glorification of any hero 
 under the sun, made no further effort to 
 recall the Unknown, but grumblingly turned 
 its steps homeward. Everybody was dis- 
 appointed with the issue of the day, and 
 everybody had a notion that he or she had 
 been dragged out upon a raw winter morning 
 to spend valuable time waiting for the sport 
 of witnessing one man kill another, without 
 having been indulged either in the promised 
 spectacle or in his own humour. 
 
 When the dispersion took place, and the 
 burgesses had re-entered the city, the short 
 December day closed gloomily. In the 
 Palace, lamps were lit, and blazing fires 
 brightened the dark panellings and rich 
 tapestry of the state chambers.
 
 THE MYSTERY OF THE ABBEY CHAPEL. 255 
 
 The investigation of Andrew Howie's 
 statements was going forward. When it 
 had closed, Tushielaw was permitted to go 
 free on his own promise that he would 
 appear again when summoned. The Queen 
 had impetuously declared her determination 
 to extend her protection to Lady Spens. 
 Meanwhile exertions were to he made to 
 discover the fate of Gilbert Elliot. 
 
 Verging upon midnight, a pale green 
 light burned faintly in the abbey chapel — 
 so faintly that the corners were thrown in^io 
 deep shadow, and only a small space around 
 the altar was illuminated. Aided by the 
 profound stillness of the hour — a stillness 
 interrupted by the occasional melancholy 
 sough of the wind, or a deep moan as some 
 gust of more than usual strength beat upon 
 the walls and passed on to the firth — the 
 place possessed that air of mystery and 
 solemnity which awes the heart of man, as 
 if something in silence thrust upon him the 
 consciousness of an invisible presence.
 
 256 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 There was another sound heard in the 
 mystic quietude of the sacred place — the 
 subdued heart-bursting sob of a woman. 
 
 She was kneeHng before the shrine of the 
 Virgin, her pale face made ghostly in its 
 pallor by the reflection of her sombre attire. 
 Her white hands were crossed upon her 
 breast, her head was bowed down, and again 
 the pallid face was raised in dumb appeal to 
 the Holy Mother ; and always the choking 
 sobs burst from her like the low moan of 
 one dying in the desert. 
 
 She had been there for weary hours,, 
 seeking in prayer the consolation she so 
 sadly needed; seeking in prayer assistance 
 for the few friends she had yet left to her. 
 
 The faithful old servitor, Andrew, had 
 promised to seek her in the chapel by mid- 
 night, and tell her what speed he had made 
 in discovering the meaning of Gilbert's 
 disappearance. 
 
 Alone in the cold and ghostly silence she 
 waited for him, praying. 
 
 A low sough of the wind, and a gust blew
 
 THE MYSTERY OF THE ABBEY CHAPEL. 257 
 
 through the chapel as if some of the doors 
 had heen opened and closed noiselessly : a 
 light step upon the stone floor, and she 
 raised her head, listening, without looking 
 round. 
 
 Silence as profound as hefore prevailed. 
 There was no footfall, no sound of breathing 
 to indicate the approach of any one. 
 
 She trembled a little as with cold ; and, 
 believing that her desire to see her messen- 
 ger return had cheated her with the fancy 
 that she had heard some one near, she 
 addressed herself again to prayer. 
 
 A little while, and she was startled by a 
 sound of some one drawing a long breath 
 of pain. The sigh struck upon her ear so 
 distinctly, that she could not this time 
 dispel the fancy that another beside her- 
 self was in the chapel. 
 
 With trepidation she turned her head 
 slowly towards the darkness. She could 
 descry nothing, she could hear nothing. 
 
 '^Andrew," she breathed softly, the while 
 she peered into the darkness in the vain 
 
 VOL. I. S
 
 258 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 effort to discover some human explanation 
 of the sound she had heard. 
 
 There was no answer, and the poor lady, 
 pressing her hands upon her brow, shud- 
 dered at the thought that her afflictions 
 were beginning to affect her mind. 
 
 She looked to the shrine again, with 
 hands clasped tightly to subdue the emo- 
 tions which were urging her to shriek aloud 
 in affright. 
 
 Once again the strange sigh was heard, 
 and this time it seemed to proceed from 
 behind the hangings which decorated one 
 side of the altar place. 
 
 But she only clasped her hands the more 
 firmly, and did not raise her head. Her 
 heart beat violently, and her pulse throbbed 
 painfully. Her sense of hearing quickened, 
 and the movement of a withered leaf upon 
 the chapel floor assumed to her tense-strung 
 senses the proportions of an enemy hovering 
 around her. 
 
 She could almost have cried aloud for joy 
 when she distinctly heard the side door
 
 THE MYSTERY OF THE ABBEY CHAPEL. 259 
 
 open, and a heavy step advancing toward 
 her. This, at least, was human, and, friend 
 or foe, she was glad of the arrival, for a 
 visible danger is always preferable to an 
 invisible one. But she knew the step. It 
 was Andrew who approached her. 
 
 She turned quickly, and beheld a man in 
 armour, with a deviceless surcoat. 
 
 His visor was closed, but something in 
 the man's eyes, as they glistened upon her 
 through the bars of the helmet, filled her 
 with instinctive dread. 
 
 With a cry of alarm, she was about to fly 
 from the place ; but the man, with a certain 
 amount of respect in his bearing, planted 
 himself in her path. 
 
 She glanced around seeking some other 
 way of escape ; but she could not see any. 
 She only became the more conscious that 
 she was alone with this man, and beyond 
 the power of her voice to summon assist- 
 ance. 
 
 The man raised his mailed hand depre- 
 catingly.
 
 260 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 '^ You are alarmed, lady," lie said, in a 
 muffled voice, and with an apparent effort 
 to conceal its natural tone; "but there is 
 no need — I came hither as your friend." 
 
 '* For what purpose ? " 
 
 " To say that I know the hiding-place of 
 Gilbert Elliot, and if it please you to ac- 
 company me, I will conduct you to him." 
 
 *^ I go with you ! " 
 
 The man bowed. 
 
 " On what assurance for my safety ? " 
 she asked, amazed by the proposition, and 
 eager to learn something of the fate of her 
 friend. 
 
 "My pledge that I will guard your life 
 with my own." 
 
 " Why does not Master Elliot come to 
 me himself?" 
 
 "He cannot." 
 
 " Is he wounded ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Wounded? — dying, perhaps; and if he 
 perish, then I and all that is dear to me 
 must perish with him."
 
 THE MYSTERY OF THE ABBEY CHAPEL. 261 
 
 '^ He can save you still if you will go to 
 Mm." 
 
 ^'And risk my life with you, of whom I 
 know nothing?" 
 
 ^^ I have pledged myself; and by the 
 Cross, I think the gain to you is worth a 
 greater risk than this." 
 
 "It is— it is." 
 
 " You will go with me, then ? " 
 
 '^ One question more ; when can I re- 
 turn ? " 
 
 " At your own pleasure." 
 
 **An hour hence, then, I will join you 
 here." 
 
 "That will be too late. You must go 
 now." 
 
 " Without one word of parting to my 
 child; without " 
 
 "What need of anything, since you can 
 return by morning if it please you? Do not 
 waste time when honour and life depend on 
 speed. Come, this cloak will shelter you 
 from the cold. Haste, haste." 
 
 Half stupefied, and wholly bewildered.
 
 262 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 she permitted herself to be led, or rather 
 dragged, from the chapel by the strange 
 friend. 
 
 As the door closed upon them a man 
 sprang from behind the altar hangings, and 
 hastily followed them. It was the Chevalier 
 Night.
 
 ( 263 ) 
 
 CHAPTEK XVI. 
 
 ENTOMBED. 
 
 " The Destiny, minister general, 
 That executeth in the world o'er all, 
 The purveyance which God hath seen beforne, 
 So strong it is that, tho' the world hath sworn 
 The contrary of a thing by yea or nay, ^ 
 
 Yet sometime it shall fallen on a day 
 That f alleth not oft in a thousand year ; 
 For certainly our appetites here, 
 Be it of war, or peace, or hate, or love. 
 All this is ruled by the sight above." 
 
 Chaucer's Knighte's Tale. 
 
 "Always darkness, always darkness, and 
 these hammers beating upon my brain." 
 
 The words were spoken by a feeble voice, 
 and weak arms were cast about, vaguely 
 seeking something to clutch, something to 
 comprehend in that impenetrable gloom.
 
 264 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 *^ Cold, slimy stones — that is all." 
 
 Tuck, tuck — tuck — tuck, tuck — and the 
 feeble hands struck the stone floor, vacantly 
 keeping time with the wild throbbing of the 
 brain. 
 
 ^^Will I never hear a human voice again? 
 will I never see the daylight any more ? " 
 
 Tuck, tuck — tuck, tuck — vacantly played 
 the hand upon the slimy stones as before. 
 Then, with a sharp cry of pain — but low, as 
 that of one whose strength had failed him 
 even in despair. 
 
 " I think I shall go mad — go mad ! . . . 
 Am I mad just now ? Holy Mother, help 
 me." 
 
 With the horrible suspicion which flashed 
 upon his mind arose the prayer for deliver- 
 ance, and with the prayer came the desire 
 to live — the yearning to satisfy himself that 
 he was not distraught, and to pierce the 
 mystery which surrounded him. 
 
 ^^Let me think" — the voice was calmer 
 now. '' What place is this, and how am I 
 in it ? Ah ! my memory serves me. The
 
 ENTOMBED. 265 
 
 night before the trial with Tushielaw — the 
 false letter — the villain wiled me to the 
 Borough Moor, and in the darkness struck 
 me to the earth before I had time to raise a 
 finger in my own defence. I remember all 
 that ; but the rest is blank, utterly." 
 
 He sought in vain for some clue to the 
 passage of time, and to the identification of 
 the place in which he had awakened from 
 unconsciousness. 
 
 '^s the day of trial over? Oh, black 
 shame to me and to my lady if it be ! . . . 
 There is time yet, perhaps — saints of 
 heaven, give me strength." 
 
 He attempted to rise ; but his limbs were 
 cold and stiff, and the effort only seemed to 
 make him the more conscious of his weak- 
 ness. Then the truth suggested itself to 
 him. He must have lain in this strange 
 place many hours — days, perhaps — insen- 
 sible from the effects of the assault upon 
 him by his treacherous guide and the com- 
 panions of the villain. Having felled him, 
 they had carried him to this dungeon, and
 
 266 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 left him there under the impression that he 
 was dead. 
 
 A pain like a sharp cry of anguish shot 
 through his heart and hrain as this occurred 
 to him. They had removed his bodyheyond 
 the reach of discovery ; and, so long as their 
 guilt could not be brought home to them, 
 they cared not whether they had killed him 
 outright or only stunned him. They would 
 not return to look at him : they had left 
 him there to perish miserably of hunger and 
 thirst. 
 
 Who were his enemies ? 
 
 Not merely plunderers; for the golden 
 crucifix — the amulet given to him by Lady 
 Spens — was still suspended round his neck. 
 
 As he lay with these thoughts and ques- 
 tionings flitting through his mind, and 
 filHng him with an intensity of agony, he 
 became aware of the sound of rushing water. 
 At first he gave this no heed; but as one 
 tossing upon a sleepless pillow uncon- 
 sciously, as it were, gives up thought to 
 the simplest things — as the counting of the
 
 ENTOMBED. 267 
 
 ends of fringe npon the cnrtains, or the tick 
 of a clock, or the half-imbecile repetition of 
 certain figures — so his mind was gradually 
 withdrawn from its troublous speculations 
 by the sound of the water. 
 
 He became feverishly interested in it, 
 and he Kstened for it, till at length he dis- 
 covered that the water flowed beneath the 
 flooring with a hollow gurgle as if it were 
 passing through a tunnel or cavern. 
 
 This fact discovered, the fever subsided 
 into a drowsy interest in the sound. 
 Dreamily he listened, and his thoughts were 
 borne away with the stream to mossy woods 
 and dells ; the fair faces of Mistress Spens 
 and Mary Douglas dawned upon him, and 
 he forgot the darkness of the living tomb in 
 which he lay. It seemed as if his spirit had 
 already parted from the body and escaped 
 from the prison, so dull and vacant became 
 his sense of all that surrounded him. 
 
 A footstep upon the stone passage with- 
 out. 
 
 Only a few minutes before, his feeble pulse
 
 268 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 would have quickened at the sound, and his 
 blood would have leapt with hope. He did 
 not heed it now or seem to understand it. 
 
 The bolts of the door grated harshly as 
 they were withdrawn from their sockets. 
 
 Still he listened only to the murmuring 
 water, and dreamed of the liberty from 
 which merely those stone walls separated 
 him, and which was yet so far away. 
 
 As the door slowly turned on its hinges 
 a ray of light streamed into the place, dis- 
 closing a somewhat large chamber, with 
 bare walls embrowned by age and glistening 
 with moisture. 
 
 The eyes of the prisoner were pained by 
 the light, and closed by a simple twitch of 
 the ne.rves, not by any will of the man. 
 
 Heron Barras, in the friar's gown, to 
 which he seemed to be partial, with the 
 cowl drawn over his head, stood in the door- 
 way, shading a lamp with his hand, and 
 peering over it. He scanned the chamber 
 with one of his broad grins upon his face, 
 and presently his eyes were fastened upon
 
 ENTOMBED. 269 
 
 Gilbert. The grin — which one would have 
 at first glance taken as indicative of a jovial 
 nature, indifferent alike to intrigue and 
 restraint, but which upon being examined 
 became rather unpleasant to meet — broad- 
 ened as he saw how still the unlucky 
 Gentleman of the Guard lay upon the floor. 
 
 **Dead?" he muttered, as he advanced 
 slowly. '^ That cheats me of my debt." 
 
 He peered over the prostrate form, peered 
 into the wan, haggard face, and presently 
 knelt down like a ghoul gloating over a 
 corpse. • 
 
 *^ Humph ! there is colour upon the lips 
 and in the cheeks." 
 
 He placed his hand on Gilbert's breast; 
 and the grin now became one of entire 
 satisfaction. 
 
 ^' He lives. So, he can suffer still. This 
 will be a dainty feast, and — what's here ? " 
 
 His eye had caught the little golden 
 crucifix, and setting the cruzie upon the 
 floor he quietly removed the amulet from 
 the helpless man's neck.
 
 270 THE BEAES OF YARROW. 
 
 The eyes of Gilbert had opened a little 
 now: but he understood nothing yet of 
 what was passing, and not a limb stirred. 
 
 Barras examined the symbol, and the 
 smile gradually faded from his counte- 
 nance, leaving it eager and sinister. He 
 fingered the cross nervously until it broke 
 in twain, as if it had been two crosses 
 fastened cunningly together. 
 
 '^ By the mass, it is as Tushielaw hinted 
 — there was a marriage, and there is an 
 heir." 
 
 His hand closed fiercely upon the two 
 halves of the cross. Whatever had been 
 revealed to him by the opening of the 
 amulet it had brought forth the darkest 
 passions of his nature. He hated this man 
 for the overthrow by him of his scheme 
 that night in the round chamber of Tushie- 
 law. For that alone he would have taken 
 dire vengeance had opportunity permitted. 
 But he had found cause now not only to 
 desire the destruction of Gilbert Elliot, 
 but to seek it in the teeth of every obstacle.
 
 ENTOMBED. 271 
 
 He gazed down upon the motionless form 
 of his enemy and observed that his eyes 
 were parfcly open. At this he was slightly 
 startled, but immediately he laughed a 
 harsh sneering laugh at his own alarm. 
 
 ^^ Benedicitej Master Elliot ; your friends 
 told me you were dead, and I came to say 
 a prayer for your rest. Was it not kind ? " 
 
 Gilbert heard, but the voice sounded to 
 him like voices in a dream, distant and 
 vague ; and, as in a dream, he had no 
 power to make response. His eyelids 
 wavered, however, and opened a little 
 wider than before. 
 
 He felt the hot breath of the man burn- 
 ing upon his cheek, as the sinister face was 
 brought close to his. 
 
 ^^ You hear?" 
 
 Gilbert's lips moved, but they gave vent 
 to no sound. 
 
 *-But you cannot answer. It is better 
 so, perhaps ; for you can never leave this 
 dungeon with life. Your arm was strong — 
 you proved that on my body ; and I hated
 
 272 THE BRAES OF YARKOW. 
 
 you for it. But more — your life stands 
 between me and fortune, and I hate you 
 for that, too." 
 
 The helpless one groaned faintly. 
 
 " Aha, I have reached your heart at last. 
 You close your eyes ; I am not pleasing to 
 them. Well, that is a pity ; but we all of 
 us have our humours. I shall not trouble 
 you long. Hearken this : you will live two 
 days maybe — four days if you touch the food 
 I leave for you. But every hour you add 
 to life is only so much added to the linger- 
 ing agony of your death. Farewell. Look 
 upon me before I go, for mine is the last 
 face your eyes shall rest upon in this 
 world." 
 
 With the fiendish intent of adding to the 
 dying anguish of the victim, Barras placed 
 within his reach a flask of wine and several 
 bannocks. He left the light, too, that the 
 torture of watching it flicker and fade 
 might increase the horrors which already 
 filled the place. 
 
 A sickly shudder passed over the w^eak
 
 ENTOMBED. 273 
 
 frame of the prisoner as lie heard the door 
 close and the bars rattle, shutting him out 
 for ever from the world. He gazed upon 
 the grim damp walls which seemed to 
 lower and frown upon him; and out of 
 the dark corners came flickering shadows, 
 mocking his misery. 
 
 There was nothing for him now but to 
 die as speedily as possible. 
 
 He saw the wine and bread. 
 
 '^ They are devils and not jnen who have 
 me in their power," he groaned. 
 
 He tried to withdraw his gaze from the 
 food for which his stomach craved; for to 
 yield to the temptation was only to pro- 
 long his pain. He turned his head away, 
 and fought with hunger stoutly. He 
 strived to fix his thoughts upon higher 
 things ; he muttered prayers for the speedy 
 coming of his deliverer — Death. He re- 
 called the form and visage of the poor lady 
 and the bonny bairn whom he had dis- 
 graced ; he remembered dark-eyed Mary 
 Douglas and the token she had given him 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 274 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 — but in spite of all his efforts the mind 
 only wavered over every subject and would 
 settle upon none. Through all, the con- 
 sciousness that food was within his reach 
 prevailed. 
 
 His mouth became dry, his lips burned, 
 and his thirst grew unbearable. He became 
 frenzied with physical and mental pain; 
 and the tempter argued with him. 
 
 '^ Assuage your thirst ; that cannot delay 
 the end you pray for." 
 
 ^' If I yield now all that I have endured 
 must be endured again." 
 
 ^^ Drink, and fear nothing." 
 
 ^a dare not." 
 
 ^^ The wine is poisoned perhaps." 
 
 He was startled by the suggestion of his 
 frenzied brain, and turned his head quickly 
 to gaze again upon the food. 
 
 '^ It may be poisoned, it may be poisoned 
 — they would not risk the prolongation of 
 my life since they have so much cause to 
 desire my death." 
 
 His head was racked with pain, his
 
 ENTOMBED. 275 
 
 temples throbbed, and with a faint savage 
 cry lie grasped the wine-flask. 
 
 He paused, attracted by the sound of 
 voices without. 
 
 Had they come to make sure of their work 
 at once ? 
 
 There was a loud rumble as if a number 
 of stones had been thrown down in front 
 of the door. Then followed knocking and 
 trampling about ; the clink of trowels, the 
 murmur of voices, and a sound of general 
 bustle. 
 
 There was no attempt to open the door. 
 Who were they ? What were they doing ? 
 
 Friends, perhaps, come to rescue him. 
 
 He drank, and the flavour of the wine 
 was inexpressibly delicious. 
 
 Another rumble as of stones being thrown 
 down in front of the door. He quaffed 
 again, and he seemed to feel the current of 
 life surging through his veins, quickening 
 his pulse, and filling him with strength and 
 hope. 
 
 ** Am I so poor of wit," he questioned, in
 
 276 THE BKAES OF YARROW. 
 
 the hilarity of his new-found strength, 
 *^ that I will meekly resign hope because 
 these varlets have trapped me? No, by 
 the Holy Eood, no ! " 
 
 He drank again. 
 
 The knocking, the tramping, the clink of 
 trowels, and the murmur of voices continued 
 without, and the louder they grew the 
 more life was revived in Gilbert's heart, and 
 the more forgetful of the horrible purpose 
 for which food and drink had been left with 
 him in his dungeon. 
 
 He had raised himself upon his elbow. 
 He drank and now he ate voraciously, 
 forgetful of everything. 
 
 When he had finished, the wine had so 
 far affected his weak condition that he was 
 more than half-intoxicated, and possessed 
 an unnatural strength. Laughing defiantly 
 at the thought of his captors' disappointment 
 when they should find that he had lived 
 long enough to be rescued by his friends — 
 he never asked himself who were the fiiends 
 w^hom he expected to aid him — he struggled 
 to his feet.
 
 ENTOMBED. 277 
 
 The bustle and noise without proceeded. 
 
 He moved unsteadily to the massive oaken 
 door, and, leaning upon it, listened to what 
 was going on. 
 
 It was some time before, from sounds and 
 words, he grasped the meaning of the work. 
 When he had grasped it he staggered back- 
 ward, horrified. 
 
 They were building up the doorway — 
 entombing him alive !
 
 278 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 CHAPTEK XVII. 
 
 LOST OE SAVED. 
 
 *' Claudio. Death is a fearful thing". 
 Isah. And shamed life a hateful." 
 
 Measure for Measure. 
 
 When the hideous trnth had flashed upon 
 him it was like the sudden revelation of 
 despair to one whose heart is buoyant with 
 hope. It was like a giant's blow, and it 
 stunned him even in his intoxication. 
 
 He leaned against the wall confused and 
 horror-stricken, pressing his hands upon 
 his head. For the first few minutes every 
 sense was numbed. By-and-by he became 
 conscious of the noise outside, and every 
 blow struck seemed to rebound upon his 
 brain, every clink of the trowels seemed to 
 echo in his breast with a terrible import.
 
 LOST OR SAYSD. 279 
 
 All his drunkenness was dispelled, and 
 as one by one his numbed senses were 
 quickened they intensified his affliction by 
 a full knowledge of his position. In a few 
 hours the doorway would be built up and 
 egress by that way rendered impossible. 
 The only thing in the shape of a window 
 was a small square hole near the roof, which 
 was scarcely six inches broad, and served 
 rather to display the thickness of the walls 
 than to give light or air. An abrupt cessa- 
 tion of the noise without attracted his 
 attention. • 
 
 He hastened to the door, and placing his 
 ear against it listened intently. 
 
 Men were talking in low smothered voices. 
 They were relenting, perhaps. 
 
 The feeble hope made his pulse leap and 
 flutter incontinently. But the hope was so 
 very feeble that it could not retain posses- 
 sion of his mind for more than an instant. 
 
 The men were moving away from the 
 place. What could it all mean ? The 
 question was answered by the last words he
 
 280 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 heard distinctly. They were going for more 
 stones to complete the work. 
 
 Despairingly he dashed himself against 
 the door. It was firm as a rock, and the 
 effort he had made did not even shake it. 
 With a sharp frenzied cry he endeavoured 
 to sink his nails into the woodwork. He 
 had not asked himself why, else he would 
 not have attempted it. 
 
 ^^ Whisht ye, whisht ye," cried a strange 
 voice from without, '^ they're no oot o' hear- 
 ing yet, and if ye mak' an ado ye '11 jist 
 bring them a' hack again." 
 
 ^^ Who are you?" 
 
 '' A frien'." 
 
 '' Will ye get me out of this ? " 
 
 ^a'Utry." 
 
 *' Open the door, then ? " 
 
 *^ No the noo. Ye hae gart thay chappies 
 stop an' they're standing up the passage a 
 wee bit, waiting to see what's the matter." 
 
 ^^ What place is this?" 
 
 " Tushielaw Tower — dinna speak sae 
 loud."
 
 LOST OR SAVED. 281 
 
 " Who brought me here ? " 
 
 " Yetholm Will and Eddie Craig." 
 
 ^^When?" 
 
 ^^ Three days syne." 
 
 " For what purpose ? " 
 
 ** To get ye out o' the road, I expeck." 
 
 *^ Cowards and villains." 
 
 "Nae doot; but ye see ye micht hae 
 worried Tushielaw, and that would hae 
 been muckle against his pleasure. Sae he 
 thocht it would be better to remove the 
 possibility and syne had ye trapped and 
 brought here." 
 
 ** The ruffian feared the falsehood of his 
 cause." 
 
 ^^ Feared? — ye're wrang for ance ; he 
 wouldna be feared o' the deil himsel' ; only 
 that time wi' ye he wanted to make sure.", 
 
 *' Then why does he fear to give me a 
 chance for life ? " 
 
 ^* It's no him that's burying ye." 
 
 "Who, then?" 
 
 " Mess Simon." 
 
 " Heron Barras, you mean."
 
 282 THE BRAES OF TAREOW. 
 
 '^ That's jist the man." 
 
 <« Why is his hate so bitter that he dooms 
 me to such a fate as this ? " 
 
 *' He wants to be Lord of Binram." 
 
 ** What matters that to me ? " 
 
 ^* Eh — do ye no ken what ? " 
 
 ^* I cannot guess." 
 
 ** Hooly, but that's queer. Weel, it seems 
 that if truth were kenned an' everybody had 
 their ain, ye would be Lord of Binram." 
 
 '^ I ! — impossible." 
 
 ^* May be sae ; but Tushielaw kens it, an' 
 Mess Simon thinks it, and sae yell hae to 
 suffer for't whether it's possible or no." 
 
 ** On what ground does he suspect this ? " 
 
 *^ Wha — Mess Simon ? Mainly frae hints 
 he has gotten frae the master, and partly 
 frae a cross that he found round your neck 
 the-nicht." 
 
 '^ How does the cross connect me with 
 the house of Binram ? " 
 
 ** The cross opened in two and there was 
 something writ inside o' it." 
 
 '^ They are mistaken again, then, for that
 
 LOST OR SAVED. 283 
 
 cross was only given to me as an amulet by 
 Lady Spens on the day before the trial with 
 Tushielaw." 
 
 " Whist ye — they're coming back." 
 
 There was a pause — a pause of painful 
 suspense to Gilbert. 
 
 Then the friendly voice without — 
 
 " No, they hae turned up the stair and 
 are awa'. Stand back." 
 
 The door was cautiously pushed open, 
 and the prisoner saw how near death stood 
 to him. The doorway was a little more 
 than half built up with large whin stones. 
 
 On the top of this rough but strong wall 
 was perched Hornie the dwarf, his mis- 
 chievous face expressing the glee with which 
 he was filled at the idea of the trick he 
 was about to play Mess Simon. There was 
 a grain of seriousness, though, in his ex- 
 pression, for all his manner of simple 
 hilarity, and his big queer eyes moved rest- 
 lessly between the cell and the passage. 
 
 Odd and ugly as the dwarf was, Gilbert 
 had never been greeted with a welcomer
 
 284 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 sight, and he gratefully grasped the little 
 man's legs — not being able to take his hands, 
 which were at that moment occupied, one 
 supporting him in his position, the other 
 holding a light — with all the strength he 
 possessed. 
 
 '* Hooly, frien', hooly, if ye baud me that 
 way I'm thinking my bane's '11 be sare." 
 
 *^ You have saved me." 
 
 " No jist exactly yet. I'm trying, though ; 
 an' I managed to draw oot the bottom bar 
 afore they biggit ower it. But come on — 
 can ye loup this ? " 
 
 *' Yes, if you go down." 
 
 The dwarf dropped to the ground. 
 
 Gilbert rested his hands upon the wall 
 and sought a resting-place for his foot. He 
 raised himself, and reached his head over 
 the wall into the passage. At that instant 
 lights flashed in his eyes from the farther 
 end, and Hornie's voice sounded warningly 
 in his ears. 
 
 ** Back, back an' shut the door — they're 
 coming again — lean a' your weight against
 
 LOST OR SAVED. 285 
 
 the door so that they'll think it's steekit. 
 Haste ye — I'll get them awa' again." 
 
 Gilbert slipped back into his cell, and, 
 scarcely knowing what he was about, closed 
 the door and leaned against it as directed. 
 
 Then came the tramp of heavy footsteps, 
 the rumble of stones as they were thrown 
 down, the murmur of voices, and the clink 
 of trowels. 
 
 '^ Ye hae got back quick," said the dwarf 
 presently, his loud voice rising above all 
 other sounds. 
 
 *^ We haena got muckle time to spare," 
 answered a gruff voice. 
 
 '^Weel, ye're no wasting a great deal. 
 How long will it take you to finish the 
 biggin?" 
 
 " Less nor half an hour." 
 
 " An' how long will it be before the wa' 
 grows ower hard to be knockit doon by a 
 strong man ? " 
 
 *^ I'd let the strongest man born try to 
 ding't doon the minute we hae finished, an' 
 I'd gie him my head if he managed it."
 
 286 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 '' What way can that be ? " 
 
 ''It's a secret, but I dinna mind telling 
 ye — we jist wedge the stanes sae tight 
 thegither that they would stan' without 
 lime." 
 
 " Let me try them noo." 
 
 " Ye— ho, ho, ho ! " 
 
 And there was a general laugh at the 
 proposition of the dwarf. The work ceased, 
 and the boastful masons, contemptuously 
 regarding the deformity of Hornie, per- 
 mitted him to try his strength. The laugh 
 suddenly changed sides as the long arms of 
 the dwarf dragged down a portion of the 
 newly built wall. 
 
 "Haw, haw, haw!" bellowed Hornie, in 
 ecstacies with his achievement, and clapping 
 his hands. 
 
 " Confound your big head, ye imp, that's 
 half an hour's work ye hae gi'en us." 
 
 " Mind what ye say, mason ; imps hae het 
 fingers." 
 
 The exhibition of his strength, the tales 
 they had heard of him, and his malicious
 
 LOST OR BAYED. 287 
 
 look silenced the imprecations they were 
 disposed to express. 
 
 '*Noo, I'll tell ye something," said 
 Hornie, as they were recommencing opera- 
 tions, ^' ye'll hae to gang and get bigger 
 stanes — big eneuch and heavy eneuch to 
 wedge themsel's thegither." 
 
 The men were at first inclined to treat 
 the suggestion with the contempt of those 
 who always know their own business best. 
 But ultimately they yielded, and three of 
 them were about to start upon the errand, 
 leaving two behind them to continue work- 
 ing. 
 
 **Haud a wee," cried Hornie, ^^ there's 
 ae stane in the court beside the well that 
 would be better than half a dozen put the- 
 gither, only it'll tak' the -Q-ve o' ye, and 
 maybe mair, to carry 't." 
 
 This suggestion was also adopted, and 
 the five men proceeded briskly in search of 
 the stone. 
 
 ^^ Safe still," thought Gilbert as he heard 
 the footsteps moving away.
 
 288 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 He stood up and placed his hand upon 
 the door to throw it open. 
 
 Voices, loud and angry, and amongst them 
 the voice of Heron Barras. 
 
 He had met the masons at the end of the 
 passage and brought them back to complete 
 their work before they quitted the place. 
 With a sickening dread the prisoner heard 
 the operations proceed. One hope was still 
 left to him — the door was unfastened, and 
 the masonry might be pushed down. 
 
 *^ How's that ? " demanded Barras harshly; 
 *' yonder bolt is withdrawn." 
 
 All professed ignorance of the means by 
 which the bolt had been drawn ; and the 
 master secured it with his own hand. 
 
 Big drops of cold perspiration started 
 upon the brow of Gilbert as he listened to 
 the rasping sound of the bolt as it was 
 thrust back into its socket. Sounds fell 
 duller and duller upon his ear, thus indi- 
 cating the progress of the entombment. At 
 last the sounds ceased, and he knew that it 
 was all over.
 
 LOST OR SAVED. 289 
 
 He reeled from the door, to which he had 
 clung desperately. One of his spurs having 
 got loose, was caught hy something in the 
 floor, and he fell. 
 
 There was a bitter hatred in his breast, 
 and he felt that he could have died more 
 peacefully had he been permitted to meet 
 B arras in open field. 
 
 He bent forward to release his foot from 
 the spur, which he found sticking into a seam 
 between two of the stones of the floor. 
 
 The water was murmuring below; the 
 cement was soft from the constant moisture 
 of the place. 
 
 Could he not loosen one of the stones 
 with his spur? There would be, at least, 
 speedy relief from the lingering death to 
 which he had been doomed. 
 
 He seized the spur and began to scrape 
 the cement round one of the stones ; it 
 was soft, and yielded readily. He wrought 
 savagely — he wrought for death. 
 
 Scrape, scrape, scrape — the fingers ached, 
 
 VOL. I. u
 
 290 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 the brain throbbed ; but he cared nothing. 
 He worked on viciously. 
 
 He was kneehng upon the stone he was 
 trying to loosen; and it seemed suddenly 
 as if he had touched some hidden spring, 
 for the floor swayed beneath him, the light 
 danced and flickered before his eyes. Then 
 darkness, and the loud roar of waters which 
 seemed to rush in upon him and overwhelm 
 him as he fell through the floor into the 
 dark tumultuous water below.
 
 ( 291 ) 
 
 CHAPTEE XVIII. 
 
 A SINGULAR WOOING. 
 
 " A wight went a- wooing a pretty maid — 
 Sing hey, sing ho, sing down a derry. 
 He offered his heart, but she tost her head — 
 Sing hey, sing ho, sing down a derry. 
 
 " And he found that another had woo'd and won — 
 Sing hey, sing ho, sing down a derry. 
 And he swore by'r lady that blood should run ! 
 Sing hey, sing ho, sing down a derry." 
 
 Old Ballad of Marjorie, 
 
 Mistress Spens was in a passion. She had 
 been tricked, trepanned, and she was again 
 at the mercy of one whom she had good 
 reason to regard as an enemy, a cruel con- 
 scienceless enemy. 
 
 So she was in a passion. 
 
 Since the sacking of Halstane till the
 
 292 THE BRAES OF YARHOW. 
 
 present time the phase of her character 
 which her misfortunes had most developed 
 had heen that of endurance. Through all, 
 she had suffered keenly, pitiably. There 
 had heen no complaints of the hardness of 
 her lot, no quarrelling with fate. 
 
 That was all changed now. Her husband 
 dead, his name disgraced, and the disgrace 
 reflected upon herself and upon her child, 
 her cause by treachery blasted in the eyes 
 of the people ; herself cajoled into the power 
 of a villain, and a world of dark indefinable 
 miseries before her — the meek suffering lady 
 was transformed into a passionate woman. 
 
 The transformation is qu.ite comprehen- 
 sible. It is only the brave of heart who 
 can endure ; and therefore, when every- 
 thing seemed lost, her courage only ob- 
 tained another direction, and she was pre- 
 pared now by cunning intrigue or by force 
 to win back something of what she had 
 been bereft. 
 
 Half recognizing the change herself, in a 
 bitter passionate spirit she paced the cham-
 
 A SINGULAR WOOIXG. 293 
 
 ber, lips compressed and fingers linked to- 
 gether tightly. 
 
 Two days she had been detained in Edin- 
 burgh under various pretences and promises 
 made by the man who had presented him- 
 self to her in the Abbey Chapel as her 
 friend. He served her with food, always 
 appearing in armour and with visor closed, 
 as when she had first seen him. No one 
 else entered the place, in which she soon 
 found that she was a prisoner. She had 
 entreated to be allowed to return to the 
 Palace — she had threatened, and she was 
 always answered in one even voice, that 
 any rashness on her part would ruin her 
 friends and her cause. 
 
 The doubt that was suggested by the 
 answer, and her failure to recognize the 
 man, made her patient. On the evening of 
 the third day she was hurriedly carried 
 from the city and brought blindfolded into 
 this chamber, which she recognized at once ^ 
 when her eyes were uncovered, and by the 
 recognition understood the rest.
 
 294 THE BRAES OF YARKO^r. 
 
 It was the same chamber in the Tower of 
 Tushielaw from which she had formerly 
 been rescued by Gilbert Elliot ; and it was 
 Adam Scott who had successfully wiled her 
 from friends and safety. 
 
 On the discovery of this all the latent 
 energy of her nature rose in repugnance to 
 the man, and to the resolution to play the 
 fox's game with all the cunning of which 
 she was capable. 
 
 When Tushielaw presented himself — no 
 longer in armour, but in a plain suit of stout 
 woollen stuff — he found her seated, her 
 softly rounded arms leaning upon the table, 
 her hands clasped, and her smooth white 
 brow resting upon them. 
 
 He was somewhat surprised when she 
 looked up quietly, and, seeing him, drooped 
 her eyes and rose as if in deference to his 
 presence. He had come prepared for tears, 
 remonstrance, and upbraiding. He met 
 none of them, and accordingly he was 
 jDUZzled as well as astonished. 
 
 His puzzlement made him awkward. Any
 
 A SINGULAR WOOING. 295 
 
 reception except this would have presented 
 no difficulty to him. He could have borne 
 her upbraidings, he could have shown her 
 how useless were threats ; but this meek 
 resignation was beyond his comprehension, 
 and so beyond his power to cope with. He 
 neither knew how to address her, nor upon 
 what subject to speak. 
 
 He stood gazing darkly at her, and un- 
 easily plucking his beard. At length, with 
 a gruff uncomfortable snort — 
 
 '* By the mass, my lady, you take more 
 kindly to your cage than I expected." 
 
 *^ It is of little count to me where I may 
 be now," she answered, sighing. 
 
 He was pleased, for he saw that he was 
 approaching the fulfilment of his wishes, 
 and the lands and privileges of Halstane 
 should be doubly his. 
 
 ^^ Say you ? — then you would as lief be 
 here as at the Palace yonder? " 
 
 " I scarcely know, I care so little where 
 I go or stay." 
 
 *' Then be those who care for you the
 
 296 THE BRAES OP YARROW. 
 
 judges of your fit resting-place," he said 
 hotly, his fierce eyes burning with hope. 
 
 She raised her head and met his gaze, so 
 placidly, so indifferently, that his ardour was 
 slightly soured. 
 
 *^ Who cares for me ? — who can care for 
 the penniless wife of a dishonoured man ? " 
 
 '^ Folk have queer notions sometimes, and 
 I've got mine, and when they're worth the 
 holding to I hold to them till they are 
 satisfied. One of my notions has been to 
 care for you a bit, and you can judge 
 whether or not I have stuck to it. Through 
 good and bad I'll stick to it yet, till you 
 have thrown your widowhood aside or till 
 I die." 
 
 *^ You have pressed this matter before." 
 
 He brought his clenched fist down upon 
 the table with an oath. 
 
 ^' And I'll press it again and again until 
 you yield. There shall nothing stand be- 
 tween us whilst I've got strength or wit to 
 make a clear gate." 
 
 '' Another time we will speak of this."
 
 A SINGULAR WOOINa. 297 
 
 " No, by my hand, we shall speak on't 
 now. Look you, Mistress Spens, and mind 
 well. You are husbandless, and without 
 me you are next to friendless. Without 
 me what is there for you and for your 
 bairn ? " 
 
 *^I am indeed friendless," she said with 
 subdued bitterness. 
 
 ** Except for me, you are wholly friend- 
 less." 
 
 ^^ Except for you?" 
 
 There was scorn and loathing in the 
 accent, but he did not observe it. 
 
 ^^ Then what for should you think twice ? 
 I am as good a man as ever was Wat Spens ; 
 my arms as strong, my gear as great, my 
 larder as well filled, and there are braw 
 stout lads in plenty to keep it so and to 
 do your will. What for should you think 
 twice?" 
 
 In his eagerness he bent so close to her 
 that she could feel his hot breath upon her 
 cheek, and it needed all her strength to 
 restrain the shudder she felt creeping over
 
 298 THE BKAES OF YARROW. 
 
 her and to suppress the cry of hate that was 
 rising in her throat. She succeeded, how- 
 ever, and responded calmly enough. 
 
 '* You are my enemy." 
 
 ^^ Your enemy in what ? " 
 
 *' Have you not sacked Halstane ? " 
 
 '^ That was because of your stubborn 
 humour, mistress, and with no wish of 
 mine." 
 
 '*Are you not the accuser of my hus- 
 band?" 
 
 ^* That was my ill luck more than my 
 desire. He was false to his country, a 
 traitor to his King, and how could I do 
 else than accuse him ? — besides, he was 
 your husband." 
 
 " And if you cared for me that should 
 have been his safeguard fi^om your lying 
 charge." 
 
 ** I saw it in another light," he answered 
 surlily. 
 
 ^^ Have you not accused me as his 
 accomplice ? — have you not said enough 
 to have hanged me had not our Queen —
 
 A SINGULAR wooiNa. 299 
 
 the Holy Mother bless her for it — inter- 
 fered to save me? " 
 
 ^^And for all that you have yourself to 
 blame." 
 
 *' Myself?" 
 
 *^ Ay, yourself, and no other. If I 
 accused you, do you think I would have 
 let you die ? " 
 
 *^ What else could you do ? " 
 
 *^ I had influence and secret means of 
 saving you." 
 
 ^af they had failed?" 
 
 *' I would have burned Palace and city 
 to the ground rather than a hair of your 
 head should have been harmed." 
 
 ^' Then why should you have placed me 
 in so much peril ? " 
 
 *^ That I might show you which of us 
 was strongest, that I might prove to you 
 the weakness of your cause, and compel 
 you to seek shelter from the only one who 
 offers it — myself. I was cruel because I 
 cared more for you than I know how to 
 tell you ; and I can be cruel again for the 
 same reason."
 
 300 THE BRAES OP YARROW. 
 
 ^*I can defy your cruelty now, I am so 
 hopeless." 
 
 And she sank upon a chah^ as if quite 
 wearied out. 
 
 He scowled and hegan to pluck his tough 
 beard again with the same uneasy manner 
 as before. 
 
 " Humph — you do not care then to see 
 this Master Elliot again? " 
 
 She looked up quickly. 
 
 ^* I would give " 
 
 '^ What ? " 
 
 He was watching her savagely. So she 
 had paused. 
 
 ^^ Tut, it matters nothing to me whether 
 I never see him again or no." 
 
 ^^ Matters nothing whether he lives or 
 dies — um? " 
 
 ''Nothing," she returned slowly. 
 
 '' That is so much the better for him. 
 But there is one you care a little more for, 
 I think. The bonnie lassie, your bairn." 
 
 Mistress Spens trembled now in good 
 earnest.
 
 A STNGULAK WOOINa. 301 
 
 <^ My bairn ?— yon cannot harm her— she, 
 
 at least, is safe." 
 
 ^' She is at this minute in my charge." 
 '' Wretch— you dare not harm her." 
 - I dare anything that may win me what 
 I desire. I have taken a notion to have you 
 for wife, and I shall have my way if all the 
 world was up in arms against me. You 
 shall pronounce whether the bonny doo is 
 to see to-morrow's light or no. Speak, 
 then, yea or nay?" 
 
 '' Give me time to think." 
 <' You have had time enough." ^ 
 
 *^Let me see the bairn." 
 *'Not until you are Mistress Scott. 
 When that matter is settled you shall have 
 the lassie, and a Men house to keep her 
 comfortable in." 
 '^ If I refuse ? " 
 
 ^* You shall never see her— you shall 
 never leave this place." 
 
 " You are deceiving me still," she said 
 indignantly. '' The child is beyond your 
 reach. The poor trick you would play is
 
 302 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 plain to me as the sun at noon. You would 
 fright me into consenting to a union that is 
 hateful to me ; but my resolution is fixed, 
 and you shall not move me from it." 
 
 " As you will, then ; hut mind you, what- 
 ever happens, upon yourself rests the blame 
 and guilt." 
 
 He was leaving the chamber. 
 
 ^' Stay," she cried agitatedly. 
 
 " Do you consent? " 
 
 ** I will answer to-morrow." 
 
 ^^ Do you consent ? " 
 
 A pause, then with a slow painful breath — 
 
 '^ Yes. I consent." 
 
 He seized her in his brawny arms, and, 
 despite her struggles, kissed her on the 
 cheek. She broke from his grasp. 
 
 1 1 There are conditions to my promise," 
 she said angrily, for his kiss burned upon 
 her cheek. 
 
 '' What conditions ? " 
 
 '' That Gilbert Elhot shall be set free." 
 
 '' It shall be done." 
 
 ^' That my child be restored to me."
 
 A SINGULAR AV^OOING. 303 
 
 " I understood that.'' 
 
 " And you must wed me in Selkirk 
 Chapel/' 
 
 ^' Is that all ? " 
 
 '' That is all." 
 
 *^ You shall have your way, by my troth, 
 and, a right merry wedding it will be for all 
 the fashes of our wooing." 
 
 She was glad he went away from her, for 
 she felt that, had he remained only a few 
 minutes longer, all the bitter loathing she 
 had struggled to keep within bounds would 
 have found vent. Another touch of his 
 hand or lips and all the hate with which she 
 regarded him would have displayed itself. 
 
 She was glad he was gone, but her brain 
 was hot and feverish ; the atmosphere of the 
 chamber seemed close and suffocating. For 
 some minutes she could scarcely breathe. 
 
 A chill draught crossed her burning 
 cheeks, and she started, shuddering and 
 covering her face with her hands. 
 
 The full horror of the position in which 
 she was placed presented itself to her now.
 
 304 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 and every thought seemed to pass like fire 
 through her brain. 
 
 She had promised to become his wife — 
 wife of the man whom most of all beings or 
 things she loathed. She had promised, and 
 it might be that Walter Spens still lived. 
 
 The colour left her face, and a cold ex- 
 pression of resolution gradually became 
 fixed upon it. This was her thought — 
 
 *' If I fail to obtain protection from the 
 holy men of Selkirk there is one last means 
 of escape left me." 
 
 It was late, and there were only half a 
 dozen men in the hall of the Tower — the 
 others had gone to roost — when Tushielaw 
 entered, his dark coantenance bright with 
 gleeful excitement. 
 
 ^' Ho, there, somebody fill me a flagon of 
 wine, and drink all of you to the toast I'll 
 give. Come, fill, Hornie, fill." 
 
 Hornie, grinning as was usual with him 
 whether the occasion was gay or sad, obeyed 
 the master.
 
 A SINGULAR WOOIXG. 305 
 
 Heron B arras, who in liis friar's garb was 
 seated at the ingle, placidly drinking and 
 meditating as he watched the enormous fire 
 crackle and blaze, looked round sharply, 
 and his false smile began to fade as he 
 observed the joy of his friend. 
 
 "She has consented?" he asked in an 
 undertone. 
 
 " You shall hear," was the boisterous 
 answer. " Now, lads, drink to the dregs — 
 the Mistress of Tushielaw." 
 
 '^ The Mistress of Tushielaw ! " exclaimed 
 all in surprise ; but they drank without 
 questioning more than by looks. 
 
 '' Drink again, lads, and to-morrow we 
 shall have such feasting as never was known 
 at a Border bridal before." 
 
 He emptied another goblet as he spoke, 
 and his boisterous humour became more 
 boisterous in consequence. Griping Bar- 
 ras by the arm, he said in his ear — 
 
 " You are a scribe. Mess Simon? " 
 
 " Thanks to the monks of Melrose, I 
 am, and my skill has been proved by the 
 
 VOL. I. X
 
 306 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 trick which, spared you a tussle at Edin- 
 burgh." 
 
 *^ Hnsh — we must let him go." 
 
 '' Must we ? " (This with a sneer.) 
 
 *'Ay, we must; I have given her my 
 word on't." 
 
 *^ Which is not worth much, at best." 
 
 *^We shall see. But you write me a 
 message to the priest of Selkirk, bidding him 
 be ready to tie a man and woman together 
 the-morn as fast as his prayers can tie them." 
 
 ^^I'U do it; but before the prayers are 
 said you must place in my hands the papers 
 of Binram." 
 
 '' That is settled." 
 
 '* Then I will do your behest." 
 
 '*Are your eyes open. Pate? You must 
 ride to Selkirk." 
 
 Ding-a'-Doon rose lazily to his feet, 
 stretching his giant frame as if he would 
 have much preferred his seat at the ingle 
 to the journey proposed to him. 
 
 ** Ay, I am ready." 
 
 '^ Then you shall speed to Selkirk Chapel
 
 A SINGULAR WOOING. 307 
 
 and deliver the packet I'll give you. Hornie 
 can go with you. Get horses ready at 
 once." 
 
 B arras had procured an ink-horn and 
 paper and was preparing to indite the 
 epistle ; Ding-a'-Doon was moving toward 
 the door ; Hornie had disappeared, and 
 the others were staring into the fire and 
 puzzling their dull wits to make out the 
 meaning of all that was going forward, when 
 they were startled by a strange weird voice 
 which seemed to belong to somebody out- 
 side the central window of the hall. The 
 knowledge of the impossibility of any human 
 creature having the power to obtain a 
 footing out there, or of being able to reach 
 the window from below, filled their super- 
 stitious minds with fear. 
 
 The words which were spoken by the eerie 
 voice completed their terror, and made them 
 start from their seats trembling. Warn- 
 ingly came the words — 
 
 " Wae, wae for the lot 
 0' the braw house o' Scott,
 
 308 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 If ane o' its name 
 Sail bring till his hame, 
 Frae Yarrow's murk glens, 
 As marrow, a Spens." 
 
 A deathly stillness followed, for not one 
 of them, bold and reckless as they all were, 
 dared draw his breath for the first few 
 minutes after that strange warning had been 
 spoken. 
 
 Barras held his pen suspended over the 
 paper, the while his head was raised and his 
 eyes turned toward the place from which 
 the sound had seemed to proceed. 
 
 Tushielaw stood behind him clutching 
 him by the arm with one hand, the other 
 grasping his poignard. All the effects of 
 his potations had disappeared from his 
 countenance, leaving it dark and alarmed. 
 
 Pate, the giant, had paused at the door 
 with a look of stupefied fright, and the rest 
 were in a similar condition. 
 
 ^' What fool's cantrips is this?" roared 
 Tushielaw, with forced courage. '' By my 
 sword ! he shall pay dearly for the jest."
 
 A SINGULAR WOOING. 309 
 
 He rushed to the window, but as he 
 reached it a flash of light met him and he 
 staggered back. 
 
 Yetholm Will and Eddie Craig were down 
 upon their knees crossing themselves as fast 
 as they were able, and muttering as much 
 of a prayer as they could remember. Ding- 
 a'-Doon clung to the door, terror-stricken. 
 Barras did not alter his position, but his 
 sallow countenance became a shade more 
 sallow. 
 
 The door was suddenly burst open, and 
 Ding-a'-Doon gave vent to an oath, indi- 
 cating by its expression of terror that* he 
 fully expected to see the arch enemy enter 
 in state ; and another oath, indicative of 
 rage, when he saw that it was only Hornie 
 who appeared. 
 
 *'I hae seen the deil, I hae seen the deil," 
 cried the dwarf in his loud voice, and with 
 every appearance of distraction. *^ I hae 
 seen the deil fleeing wi' a green licht aboon 
 the Tower.'' 
 
 *' Silence," roared Tushielaw, furiously. 
 *^ I defy the devil and all his imps."
 
 310 THE BRAES OF YARROW. 
 
 He drained a goblet of wine with a fierce 
 air, as if in doing so lie were defying the 
 fiend. But for all the hardihood with which 
 he tried to brave out the affair, the singular 
 occurrence had affected him deeply. All 
 his fury was assumed to conceal his fear. 
 
 '' You write me that message, Mess 
 Simon ; and you. Pate, go do my bidding. 
 To saddle, quick, and take that limb of 
 Satan with you" — indicating Hornie — 
 " he'll serve to keep his master at bay." 
 
 Ding-a'-Doon, with surly submission, 
 griped the dwarf by the arm and drew him 
 along to the stable. 
 
 B arras quietly finished the note and gave 
 it to Tushielaw. Neither spoke of the 
 warning they had heard, or seemed to think 
 of giving it any heed. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: PRINTED BT WILLIAM C HOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, 
 STAMFOKD STREET AND CHAKING CROSS.
 
 /
 
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