Chapter the Twelfth.
Nay, hear me, brother--I am elder, wiser, And holier than thou--And age, and wisdom, And holiness, have peremptory claims, And will be listen'd to. OLD PLAY.
When the matrons re-entered, and put an end to the conversation--whichwe have detailed in the last chapter, Dame Magdalen Graeme thusaddressed her grandson and his pretty companion: "Have you spoketogether, my children?--Have you become known to each other asfellow-travellers on the same dark and dubious road, whom chance hathbrought together, and who study to learn the tempers and dispositions ofthose by whom their perils are to be shared?"
It was seldom the light-hearted Catharine could suppress a jest, so thatshe often spoke when she would have acted more wisely in holding herpeace.
"Your grandson admires the journey which you propose so very greatly,that he was even now preparing for setting out upon it instantly."
"This is to be too forward, Roland," said the dame, addressing him, "asyesterday you were over slack--the just mean lies in obedience, whichboth waits for the signal to start, and obeys it when given.--But onceagain, my children, have you so perused each other's countenances, thatwhen you meet, in whatever disguise the times may impose upon you, youmay recognize each in the other the secret agent of the mighty work inwhich you are to be leagued?--Look at each other, know each line andlineament of each other's countenance. Learn to distinguish by the step,by the sound of the voice, by the motion of the hand, by the glanceof the eye, the partner whom Heaven hath sent to aid in working itswill.--Wilt thou know that maiden, whensoever, or wheresoever you shallagain meet her, my Roland Graeme?"
As readily as truly did Roland answer in the affirmative. "And thou, mydaughter, wilt thou again remember the features of this youth?"
"Truly, mother," replied Catherine Seyton, "I have not seen so many menof late, that I should immediately forget your grandson, though I marknot much about him that is deserving of especial remembrance."
"Join hands, then, my children," said Magdalen Graeme; but, in sayingso, was interrupted by her companion, whose conventual prejudices hadbeen gradually giving her more and more uneasiness, and who could remainacquiescent no longer.
"Nay, my good sister, you forget," said she to Magdalen, "Catharine isthe betrothed bride of Heaven--these intimacies cannot be."
"It is in the cause of Heaven that I command them to embrace," saidMagdalen, with the full force of her powerful voice; "the end, sister,sanctifies the means we must use."
"They call me Lady Abbess, or Mother at the least, who address me,"said Dame Bridget, drawing herself up, as if offended at her friend'sauthoritative manner--"the Lady of Heathergill forgets that she speaksto the Abbess of Saint Catherine."
"When I was what you call me," said Magdalen, "you indeed were theAbbess of Saint Catherine, but both names are now gone, with all therank that the world and that the church gave to them; and we are now, tothe eye of human judgment, two poor, despised, oppressed women, draggingour dishonoured old age to a humble grave. But what are we in the eye ofHeaven?--Ministers, sent forth to work his will,--in whose weakness thestrength of the church shall be manifested-before whom shall be humbledthe wisdom of Murray, and the dark strength of Morton,--And to suchwouldst thou apply the narrow rules of thy cloistered seclusion?--or,hast thou forgotten the order which I showed thee from thy Superior,subjecting thee to me in these matters?"
"On thy head, then, be the scandal and the sin," said the Abbess,sullenly.
"On mine be they both," said Magdalen. "I say, embrace each other, mychildren."
But Catherine, aware, perhaps, how the dispute was likely to terminate,had escaped from the apartment, and so disappointed the grandson, atleast as much as the old matron.
"She is gone," said the Abbess, "to provide some little refreshment. Butit will have little savour to those who dwell in the world; for I, atleast, cannot dispense with the rules to which I am vowed, because it isthe will of wicked men to break down the sanctuary in which they wont tobe observed."
"It is well, my sister," replied Magdalen, "to pay each even thesmallest tithes of mint and cummin which the church demands, and I blamenot thy scrupulous observance of the rules of thine order. But they wereestablished by the church, and for the church's benefit; and reason itis that they should give way when the salvation of the church herself isat stake."
The Abbess made no reply.
One more acquainted with human nature than the inexperienced page, mighthave found amusement in comparing the different kinds of fanaticismswhich these two females exhibited. The Abbess, timid, narrowminded, anddiscontented, clung to ancient usages and pretensions which were endedby the Reformation; and was in adversity, as she had been in prosperity,scrupulous, weak-spirited, and bigoted. While the fiery and more loftyspirit of her companion suggested a wider field of effort, and wouldnot be limited by ordinary rules in the extraordinary schemes whichwere suggested by her bold and irregular imagination. But Roland Graeme,instead of tracing these peculiarities of character in the two olddamps, only waited with great anxiety for the return of Catherine,expecting probably that the proposal of the fraternal embrace would berenewed, as his grandmother seemed disposed to carry matters with a highhand.
His expectations, or hopes, if we may call them so, were, however,disappointed; for, when Catherine re-entered on the summons of theAbbess, and placed on the table an earthen pitcher of water, andfour wooden platters, with cups of the same materials, the Dame ofHeathergill, satisfied with the arbitrary mode in which she had bornedown the opposition of the Abbess, pursued her victory no farther--amoderation for which her grandson, in his heart, returned her butslender thanks.
In the meanwhile, Catherine continued to place upon the table theslender preparations for the meal of a recluse, which consisted almostentirely of colewort, boiled and served up in a wooden platter, havingno better seasoning than a little salt, and no better accompaniment thansome coarse barley-bread, in very moderate quantity. The water-pitcher,already mentioned, furnished the only beverage. After a Latingrace, delivered by the Abbess, the guests sat down to their spareentertainment. The simplicity of the fare appeared to produce nodistaste in the females, who ate of it moderately, but with the usualappearance of appetite. But Roland Graeme had been used to bettercheer. Sir Halbert Glendinning, who affected even an unusual degreeof nobleness in his housekeeping, maintained it in a style of genialhospitality, which rivalled that of the Northern Barons of England. Hemight think, perhaps, that by doing so, he acted yet more completelythe part for which he was born--that of a great Baron and a leader. Twobullocks, and six sheep, weekly, were the allowance when the Baron wasat home, and the number was not greatly diminished during his absence. Aboll of malt was weekly brewed into ale, which was used by the householdat discretion. Bread was baked in proportion for the consumption of hisdomestics and retainers; and in this scene of plenty had Roland Graemenow lived for several years. It formed a bad introduction to lukewarmgreens and spring-water; and probably his countenance indicated somesense of the difference, for the Abbess observed, "It would seem,my son, that the tables of the heretic Baron, whom you have so longfollowed, are more daintily furnished than those of the sufferingdaughters of the church; and yet, not upon the most solemn nights offestival, when the nuns were permitted to eat their portion at mine owntable, did I consider the cates, which were then served up, as half sodelicious as these vegetables and this water, on which I prefer to feed,rather than do aught which may derogate from the strictness of my vow.It shall never be said that the mistress of this house made it a houseof feasting, when days of darkness and of affliction were hanging overthe Holy Church, of which I am an unworthy member."
"Well hast thou said, my sister," replied Magdalen Graeme; "but nowit is not only time to suffer in the good cause, but to act in it. Andsince our pilgrim's meal is finished, let us go apart to prepare for ourjourney tomorrow, and to advise on the manner in which these childrenshall be employed, and what measures
we can adopt to supply theirthoughtlessness and lack of discretion."
Notwithstanding his indifferent cheer, the heart of Roland Graemebounded high at this proposal, which he doubted not would lead toanother _tete-a-tete_ betwixt him and the pretty novice. But he wasmistaken. Catherine, it would seem, had no mind so far to indulge him;for, moved either by delicacy or caprice, or some of those indescribableshades betwixt the one and the other, with which women love to tease,and at the same time to captivate, the ruder sex, she reminded theAbbess that it was necessary she should retire an hour before vespers;and, receiving the ready and approving nod of her Superior, she aroseto withdraw. But before leaving the apartment, she made obeisance to thematrons, bending herself till her hands touched her knees, and then madea lesser reverence to Roland, which consisted in a slight bend ofthe body and gentle depression of the head. This she performed verydemurely; but the party on whom the salutation was conferred, thought hecould discern in her manner an arch and mischievous exultation over hissecret disappointment.--"The devil take the saucy girl," he thought inhis heart, though the presence of the Abbess should have repressed allsuch profane imaginations,--"she is as hard-hearted as the laughinghyaena that the story-books tell of--she has a mind that I shall notforget her this night at least."
The matrons now retired also, giving the page to understand that hewas on no account to stir from the convent, or to show himself at thewindows, the Abbess assigning as a reason, the readiness with which therude heretics caught at every occasion of scandalizing the religiousorders.
"This is worse than the rigour of Mr. Henry Warden, himself," said thepage, when he was left alone; "for, to do him justice, however strict inrequiring the most rigid attention during the time of his homilies, heleft us to the freedom of our own wills afterwards--ay, and would takea share in our pastimes, too, if he thought them entirely innocent.But these old women are utterly wrapt up in gloom, mystery andself-denial.--Well, then, if I must neither stir out of the gate norlook out at window, I will at least see what the inside of the housecontains that may help to pass away one's time--peradventure I may lighton that blue-eyed laugher in some corner or other."
Going, therefore, out of the chamber by the entrance opposite to thatthrough which the two matrons had departed, (for it may be readilysupposed that he had no desire to intrude on their privacy.) he wanderedfrom one chamber to another, through the deserted edifice, seeking, withboyish eagerness, some source of interest and amusement. Here he passedthrough a long gallery, opening on either hand into the little cellsof the nuns, all deserted, and deprived of the few trifling articles offurniture which the rules of the order admitted.
"The birds are flown," thought the page; "but whether they will findthemselves worse off in the open air than in these damp narrow cages, Ileave my Lady Abbess and my venerable relative to settle betwixt them.I think the wild young lark whom they have left behind them, would likebest to sing under God's free sky."
A winding stair, strait and narrow, as if to remind the nuns of theirduties of fast and maceration, led down to a lower suite of apartments,which occupied the ground story of the house. These rooms were even moreruinous than those which he had left; for, having encountered the firstfury of the assailants by whom the nunnery had been wasted, the windowshad been dashed in, the doors broken down, and even the partitionsbetwixt the apartments, in some places, destroyed. As he thus stalkedfrom desolation to desolation, and began to think of returning fromso uninteresting a research to the chamber which he had left, he wassurprised to hear the low of a cow very close to him. The sound was sounexpected at the time and place, that Roland Graeme started as if ithad been the voice of a lion, and laid his hand on his dagger, while atthe same moment the light and lovely form of Catherine Seyton presenteditself at the door of the apartment from which the sound had issued.
"Good even to you, valiant champion!" said she: "since the days of Guyof Warwick, never was one more worthy to encounter a dun cow."
"Cow?" said Roland Graeme, "by my faith, I thought it had been thedevil that roared so near me. Who ever heard of a convent containing acow-house?"
"Cow and calf may come hither now," answered Catherine, "for we have nomeans to keep out either. But I advise you, kind sir, to return to theplace from whence you came."
"Not till I see your charge, fair sister," answered Roland, and madehis way into the apartment, in spite of the half serious half laughingremonstrances of the girl.
The poor solitary cow, now the only severe recluse within the nunnery,was quartered in a spacious chamber, which had once been the refectoryof the convent. The roof was graced with groined arches, and the wallwith niches, from which the images had been pulled down. These remnantsof architectural ornaments were strangely contrasted with the rude cribconstructed for the cow in one corner of the apartment, and the stack offodder which was piled beside it for her food. [Footnote: This, likethe cell of Saint Cuthbert, is an imaginary scene, but I took one ortwo ideas of the desolation of the interior from a story told me by myfather. In his youth--it may be near eighty years since, as he was bornin 1729--he had occasion to visit an old lady who resided in a Bordercastle of considerable renown. Only one very limited portion of theextensive ruins sufficed for the accommodation of the inmates, and myfather amused himself by wandering through the part that was untenanted.In a dining-apartment, having a roof richly adorned with arches anddrops, there was deposited a large stack of hay, to which calves werehelping themselves from opposite sides. As my father was scaling adark ruinous turnpike staircase, his greyhound ran up before him, andprobably was the means of saving his life, for the animal fell througha trap-door, or aperture in the stair, thus warning the owner of thedanger of the ascent. As the dog continued howling from a great depth,my father got the old butler, who alone knew most of the localitiesabout the castle, to unlock a sort of stable, in which Kill-buck wasfound safe and sound, the place being filled with the same commoditywhich littered the stalls of Augeas, and which had rendered the dog'sfall an easy one.]
"By my faith," said the page, "Crombie is more lordly lodged than anyone here!"
"You had best remain with her," said Catherine, "and supply by yourfilial attentions the offspring she has had the ill luck to lose."
"I will remain, at least, to help you to prepare her night's lair,pretty Catherine," said Roland, seizing upon a pitch-fork.
"By no means," said Catherine; "for, besides that you know not in theleast how to do her that service, you will bring a chiding my way, and Iget enough of that in the regular course of things."
"What! for accepting my assistance?" said the page,--"for accepting _my_assistance, who am to be your confederate in some deep matter of import?That were altogether unreasonable--and, now I think on it, tell me ifyou can, what is this mighty emprise to which I am destined?"
"Robbing a bird's nest, I should suppose," said Catherine, "consideringthe champion whom they have selected."
"By my faith," said the youth, "and he that has taken a falcon's nestin the Scaurs of Polmoodie, has done something to brag of, my fairsister.--But that is all over now--a murrain on the nest, and the eyasesand their food, washed or unwashed, for it was all anon of crammingthese worthless kites that I was sent upon my present travels. Savethat I have met with you, pretty sister, I could eat my dagger-hilt forvexation at my own folly. But, as we are to be fellow-travellers--"
"Fellow-labourers! not fellow-travellers!" answered the girl; "for toyour comfort be it known, that the Lady Abbess and I set out earlierthan you and your respected relative to-morrow, and that I partly endureyour company at present, because it may be long ere we meet again."
"By Saint Andrew, but it shall not though," answered Roland; "I will nothunt at all unless we are to hunt in couples."
"I suspect, in that and in other points, we must do as we are bid,"replied the young lady.--"But, hark! I hear my aunt's voice."
The old lady entered in good earnest, and darted a severe glance at herniece, while Roland had the ready
wit to busy himself about the halterof the cow.
"The young gentleman," said Catherine, gravely, "is helping me to tiethe cow up faster to her stake, for I find that last night when she puther head out of window and lowed, she alarmed the whole village;and--we shall be suspected of sorcery among the heretics, if they do notdiscover the cause of the apparition, or lose our cow if they do."
"Relieve yourself of that fear," said the Abbess, somewhat ironically;"the person to whom she is now sold, comes for the animal presently."
"Good night, then, my poor companion," said Catherine, patting theanimal's shoulders; "I hope thou hast fallen into kind hands, for myhappiest hours of late have been spent in tending thee--I would I hadbeen born to no better task!"
"Now, out upon thee, mean-spirited wench!" said the Abbess; "is that aspeech worthy of the name of Seyton, or of the mouth of a sister of thishouse, treading the path of election--and to be spoken before a strangeryouth, too?--Go to my oratory, minion--there read your Hours till I comethither, when I will read you such a lecture as shall make you prize theblessings which you possess."
Catherine was about to withdraw in silence, casting a half sorrowfulhalf comic glance at Roland Graeme, which seemed to say--"You see towhat your untimely visit has exposed me," when, suddenly changing hermind, she came forward to the page, and extended her hand as she bidhim good evening. Their palms had pressed each other ere the astonishedmatron could interfere, and Catherine had time to say--"Forgive me,mother; it is long since we have seen a face that looked with kindnesson us. Since these disorders have broken up our peaceful retreat, allhas been gloom and malignity. I bid this youth kindly farewell, becausehe has come hither in kindness, and because the odds are great, thatwe may never again meet in this world. I guess better than he, that theschemes on which you are rushing are too mighty for your management, andthat you are now setting the stone a-rolling, which must surely crushyou in its descent. I bid fare-well," she added, "to my fellow-victim!"
This was spoken with a tone of deep and serious feeling, altogetherdifferent from the usual levity of Catherine's manner, and plainlyshowed, that beneath the giddiness of extreme youth and totalinexperience, there lurked in her bosom a deeper power of sense andfeeling, than her conduct had hitherto expressed.
The Abbess remained a moment silent after she had left the room. Theproposed rebuke died on her tongue, and she appeared struck with thedeep and foreboding, tone in which her niece had spoken her good-even.She led the way in silence to the apartment which they had formerlyoccupied, and where there was prepared a small refection, as theAbbess termed it, consisting of milk and barley-bread. Magdalen Graeme,summoned to take share in this collation, appeared from an adjoiningapartment, but Catherine was seen no more. There was little said duringthe hasty meal, and after it was finished, Roland Graeme was dismissedto the nearest cell, where some preparations had been made for hisrepose.
The strange circumstances in which he found himself, had their usualeffect in preventing slumber from hastily descending on him, and hecould distinctly hear, by a low but earnest murmuring in the apartmentwhich he had left, that the matrons continued in deep consultation toa late hour. As they separated he heard the Abbess distinctly expressherself thus: "In a word, my sister, I venerate your character and theauthority with which my Superiors have invested you; yet it seems to me,that, ere entering on this perilous course, we should consult some ofthe Fathers of the Church."
"And how and where are we to find a faithful Bishop or Abbot at whom toask counsel? The faithful Eustatius is no more--he is withdrawn from aworld of evil, and from the tyranny of heretics. May Heaven and ourLady assoilzie him of his sins, and abridge the penance of his mortalinfirmities!--Where shall we find another, with whom to take counsel?"
"Heaven will provide for the Church," said the Abbess; "and the faithfulfathers who yet are suffered to remain in the house of Kennaquhair, willproceed to elect an Abbot. They will not suffer the staff to fall down,or the mitre to be unfilled, for the threats of heresy."
"That will I learn to-morrow," said Magdalen Graeme; "yet who now takesthe office of an hour, save to partake with the spoilers in their workof plunder?--to-morrow will tell us if one of the thousand saints whoare sprung from the House of Saint Mary's continues to look down on itin its misery.--Farewell, my sister--we meet at Edinburgh."
"Benedicito!" answered the Abbess, and they parted.
"To Kennaquhair and to Edinburgh we bend our way." thought RolandGraeme. "That information have I purchased by a sleepless hour--it suitswell with my purpose. At Kennaquhair I shall see Father Ambrose;--atEdinburgh I shall find the means of shaping my own course throughthis bustling world, without burdening my affectionate relation--atEdinburgh, too, I shall see again the witching novice, with her blueeyes and her provoking smile."--He fell asleep, and it was to dream ofCatherine Seyton.