Chapter the Sixteenth.
Youth! thou wear'st to manhood now, Darker lip and darker brow, Statelier step, more pensive mien, In thy face and gate are seen: Thou must now brook midnight watches, Take thy food and sport by snatches; For the gambol and the jest, Thou wert wont to love the best, Graver follies must thou follow, But as senseless, false, and hollow. LIFE, A POEM.
Young Roland Graeme now trotted gaily forward in the train ofSir Halbert Glendinning. He was relieved from his most gallingapprehension,--the encounter of the scorn and taunt which might possiblyhail his immediate return to the Castle of Avenel. "There will be achange ere they see me again," he thought to himself; "I shall wear thecoat of plate, instead of the green jerkin, and the steel morion for thebonnet and feather. They will be bold that may venture to break a gibeon the man-at-arms for the follies of the page; and I trust, that ere wereturn I shall have done something more worthy of note than hallooinga hound after a deer, or scrambling a crag for a kite's nest." Hecould not, indeed, help marvelling that his grandmother, with all herreligious prejudices, leaning, it would seem, to the other side, hadconsented so readily to his re-entering the service of the House ofAvenel; and yet more, at the mysterious joy with which she took leave ofhim at the Abbey.
"Heaven," said the dame, as she kissed her young relation, and bade himfarewell, "works its own work, even by the hands of those of our enemieswho think themselves the strongest and the wisest. Thou, my child, beready to act upon the call of thy religion and country; and remember,each earthly bond which thou canst form is, compared to the ties whichbind thee to them, like the loose flax to the twisted cable. Thou hastnot forgot the face or form of the damsel Catherine Seyton?"
Roland would have replied in the negative, but the word seemed to stickin his throat and Magdalen continued her exhortations.
"Thou must not forget her, my son; and here I intrust thee with a token,which I trust thou wilt speedily find an opportunity of delivering withcare and secrecy into her own hand."
She put here into Roland's hand a very small packet, of which she againenjoined him to take the strictest care, and to suffer it to be seenby no one save Catherine Seyton, who, she again (very unnecessarily)reminded him, was the young lady he had met on the preceding day. Shethen bestowed on him her solemn benediction, and bade God speed him.
There was something in her manner and her conduct which implied mystery;but Roland Graeme was not of an age or temper to waste much timein endeavoring to decipher her meaning. All that was obvious to hisperception in the present journey, promised pleasure and novelty. Herejoiced that he was travelling towards Edinburgh, in order to assumethe character of a man, and lay aside that of a boy. He was delighted tothink that he would have an opportunity of rejoining CatherineSeyton, whose bright eyes and lively manners had made so favourable animpression on his imagination; and, as an experienced, yet high-spiritedyouth, entering for the first time upon active life, his heart boundedat the thought, that he was about to see all those scenes of courtlysplendour and warlike adventures, of which the followers of Sir Halbertused to boast on their occasional visits to Avenel, to the wondermentand envy of those who, like Roland, knew courts and camps only byhearsay, and were condemned to the solitary sports and almost monasticseclusion of Avenel, surrounded by its lonely lake, and embossedamong its pathless mountains. "They shall mention my name," he saidto himself, "if the risk of my life can purchase me opportunities ofdistinction, and Catherine Seyton's saucy eye shall rest with morerespect on the distinguished soldier, than that with which she laughedto scorn the raw and inexperienced page."--There was wanting butone accessary to complete the sense of rapturous excitation, and hepossessed it by being once more mounted on the back of a fiery andactive horse, instead of plodding along on foot, as had been the caseduring the preceding days.
Impelled by the liveliness of his own spirits, which so manycircumstances tended naturally to exalt, Roland Graeme's voice and hislaughter were soon distinguished amid the trampling of the horses of theretinue, and more than once attracted the attention of the leader, whoremarked with satisfaction, that the youth replied with good-humouredraillery to such of the train as jested with him on his dismissal andreturn to the service of the House of Avenel.
"I thought the holly-branch in your bonnet had been blighted, MasterRoland?" said one of the men-at-arms.
"Only pinched with half an hour's frost; you see it flourishes as greenas ever."
"It is too grave a plant to flourish on so hot a soil as that headpieceof thine, Master Roland Graeme," retorted the other, who was an oldequerry of Sir Halbert Glendinning.
"If it will not flourish alone," said Roland, "I will mix it with thelaurel and the myrtle--and I will carry them so near the sky, that itshall make amends for their stinted growth."
Thus speaking, he dashed his spurs into his horse's sides, and, checkinghim at the same time, compelled him to execute a lofty caracole. SirHalbert Glendinning looked at the demeanour of his new attendant withthat sort of melancholy pleasure with which those who have long followedthe pursuits of life, and are sensible of their vanity, regard the gay,young, and buoyant spirits to whom existence, as yet, is only hope andpromise.
In the meanwhile, Adam Woodcock, the falconer, stripped of his masquinghabit, and attired, according to his rank and calling, in a greenjerkin, with a hawking-bag on the one side, and a short hanger on theother, a glove on his left hand which reached half way up his arm, anda bonnet and feather upon his head, came after the party as fast ashis active little galloway-nag could trot, and immediately entered intoparley with Roland Graeme.
"So, my youngster, you are once more under shadow of the holly-branch?"
"And in case to repay you, my good friend," answered Roland, "your tengroats of silver."
"Which, but an hour since," said the falconer, "you had nearly paid mewith ten inches of steel. On my faith, it is written in the book of ourdestiny, that I must brook your dagger after all."
"Nay, speak not of that, my good friend," said the youth, "I wouldrather have broached my own bosom than yours; but who could have knownyou in the mumming dress you wore?"
"Yes," the falconer resumed,--for both as a poet and actor he hadhis own professional share of self-conceit,--"I think I was as good aHowleglas as ever played part at a Shrovetide revelry, and not a muchworse Abbot of Unreason. I defy the Old Enemy to unmask me when I chooseto keep my vizard on. What the devil brought the Knight on us before wehad the game out? You would have heard me hollo my own new ballad with avoice should have reached to Berwick. But I pray you, Master Roland, beless free of cold steel on slight occasions; since, but for the stuffingof my reverend doublet, I had only left the kirk to take my place in thekirkyard."
"Nay, spare me that feud," said Roland Graeme, "we shall have no time tofight it out; for, by our lord's command, I am bound for Edinburgh."
"I know it," said Adam Woodcock, "and even therefore we shall have timeto solder up this rent by the way, for Sir Halbert has appointed me yourcompanion and guide."
"Ay? and with what purpose?" said the page.
"That," said the falconer, "is a question I cannot answer; but I know,that be the food of the eyases washed or unwashed, and, indeed, whateverbecomes of perch and mew, I am to go with you to Edinburgh, and see yousafely delivered to the Regent at Holyrood."
"How, to the Regent?" said Roland, in surprise.
"Ay, by my faith, to the Regent," replied Woodcock; "I promise you, thatif you are not to enter his service, at least you are to wait upon himin the character of a retainer of our Knight of Avenel."
"I know no right," said the youth, "which the Knight of Avenel hath totransfer my service, supposing that I owe it to himself."
"Hush, hush!" said the falconer; "that is a question I advise no one tostir in until he has the mountain or the lake, or the march of anotherkingdom, which is better than either, betwixt him and his feudalsuperior."
"But Sir Halbert Glendinning," said
the youth, "is not my feudalsuperior; nor has he aught of authority--"
"I pray you, my son, to rein your tongue," answered Adam Woodcock; "mylord's displeasure, if you provoke it, will be worse to appease thanmy lady's. The touch of his least finger were heavier than her hardestblow. And, by my faith, he is a man of steel, as true and as pure, butas hard and as pitiless. You remember the Cock of Capperlaw, whom hehanged over his gate for a mere mistake--a poor yoke of oxen taken inScotland, when he thought he was taking them in English land? I lovedthe Cock of Capperlaw; the Kerrs had not an honester man in their clan,and they have had men that might have been a pattern to the Border--menthat would not have lifted under twenty cows at once, and would haveheld themselves dishonoured if they had taken a drift of sheep, or thelike, but always managed their raids in full credit and honour.--Butsee, his worship halts, and we are close by the bridge. Ride up--rideup--we must have his last instructions."
It was as Adam Woodcock said. In the hollow way descending towards thebridge, which was still in the guardianship of Peter Bridgeward, as hewas called, though he was now very old, Sir Halbert Glendinning haltedhis retinue, and beckoned to Woodcock and Graeme to advance to the headof the train.
"Woodcock," said he, "thou knowest to whom thou art to conduct thisyouth. And thou, young man, obey discreetly and with diligence theorders that shall be given thee. Curb thy vain and peevish temper. Bejust, true, and faithful; and there is in thee that which may raisethee many a degree above thy present station. Neither shalt thou--alwayssupposing thine efforts to be fair and honest--want the protection andcountenance of Avenel."
Leaving them in front of the bridge, the centre tower of which now beganto cast a prolonged shade upon the river, the Knight of Avenel turnedto the left, without crossing the river, and pursued his way towards thechain of hills within whose recesses are situated the Lake and Castleof Avenel. There remained behind, the falconer, Roland Graeme, and adomestic of the Knight, of inferior rank, who was left with them to lookafter their horses while on the road, to carry their baggage, and toattend to their convenience.
So soon as the more numerous body of riders had turned off to pursuetheir journey westward, those whose route lay across the river, and wasdirected towards the north, summoned the Bridgeward, and demanded a freepassage.
"I will not lower the bridge," answered Peter, in a voice querulous withage and ill-humour.--"Come Papist, come Protestant, ye are all thesame. The Papist threatened us with Purgatory, and fleeched us withpardons--the Protestant mints at us with his sword, and cuttles us withthe liberty of conscience; but never a one of either says, 'Peter, thereis your penny.' I am well tired of all this, and for no man shall thebridge fall that pays me not ready money; and I would have you know Icare as little for Geneva as for Rome--as little for homilies as forpardons; and the silver pennies are the only passports I will hear of."
"Here is a proper old chuff!" said Woodcock to his companion; thenraising his voice, he exclaimed, "Hark thee, dog--Bridgeward, villain,dost thou think we have refused thy namesake Peter's pence to Rome, topay thine at the bridge of Kennaquhair? Let thy bridge down instantly tothe followers of the house of Avenel, or by the hand of my father, andthat handled many a bridle rein, for he was a bluff Yorkshireman--I say,by my father's hand, our Knight will blow thee out of thy solan-goose'snest there in the middle of the water, with the light falconet which weare bringing southward from Edinburgh to-morrow."
The Bridgeward heard, and muttered, "A plague on falcon and falconet,on cannon and demicannon, and all the barking bull-dogs whom they hallooagainst stone and lime in these our days! It was a merry time when therewas little besides handy blows, and it may be a flight of arrows thatharmed an ashler wall as little as so many hailstones. But we must joukand let the jaw gang by." Comforting himself in his state of diminishedconsequence with this pithy old proverb, Peter Bridgeward lowered thedrawbridge, and permitted them to pass over. At the sight of his whitehair, albeit it discovered a visage equally peevish through age andmisfortune, Roland was inclined to give him an alms, but Adam Woodcockprevented him. "E'en let him pay the penalty of his former churlishnessand greed," he said; "the wolf, when he has lost his teeth, should betreated no better than a cur."
Leaving the Bridgeward to lament the alteration of times, which sentdomineering soldiers and feudal retainers to his place of passage,instead of peaceful pilgrims, and reduced him to become the oppressed,instead of playing the extortioner, the travellers turned themnorthward; and Adam Woodcock, well acquainted with that part of thecountry, proposed to cut short a considerable portion of the road, bytraversing the little vale of Glendearg, so famous for the adventureswhich befell therein during the earlier part of the Benedictine'smanuscript. With these, and with the thousand commentaries,representations, and misrepresentations, to which they had given rise,Roland Graeme was, of course, well acquainted; for in the Castle ofAvenel, as well as in other great establishments, the inmates talked ofnothing so often, or with such pleasure, as of the private affairs oftheir lord and lady. But while Roland was viewing with interest thesehaunted scenes, in which things were said to have passed beyond theordinary laws of nature, Adam Woodcock was still regretting in hissecret soul the unfinished revel and the unsung ballad, and kept everynow and then, breaking out with some such verses as these:--
"The Friars of Fail drank berry-brown ale, The best that e'er was tasted; The Monks of Melrose made gude kale On Fridays, when they fasted. Saint Monance' sister. The gray priest kist her-- Fiend save the company! Sing hay trix, trim-go-trix. Under the greenwood tree."
"By my hand, friend Woodcock," said the page, "though I know you for ahardy gospeller, that fear neither saint nor devil, yet, if I wereyou, I would not sing your profane songs in this valley of Glendearg,considering what has happened here before our time."
"A straw for your wandering spirits!" said Adam Woodcock; "I mind themno more than an earn cares for a string of wild-geese--they have allfled since the pulpits were filled with honest men, and the people'sears with sound doctrine. Nay, I have a touch at them in my ballad, an Ihad but had the good luck to have it sung to end;" and again he set offin the same key:
From haunted spring and grassy ring, Troop goblin, elf, and fairy; And the kelpie must flit from the black bog-pit, And the brownie must not tarry; To Limbo-lake, Their way they take, With scarce the pith to flee. Sing hay trix, trim-go-trix, Under the greenwood tree.
"I think," he added, "that could Sir Halbert's patience have stretchedtill we came that length, he would have had a hearty laugh, and that iswhat he seldom enjoys."
"If it be all true that men tell of his early life," said Roland, "hehas less right to laugh at goblins than most men."
"Ay, _if_ it be all true," answered Adam Woodcock; "but who can ensureus of that? Moreover, these were but tales the monks used to gull ussimple laymen withal; they knew that fairies and hobgoblins broughtaves and paternosters into repute; but, now we have given up worshipof images in wood and stone, methinks it were no time to be afraid ofbubbles in the water, or shadows in the air."
"However," said Roland Graeme, "as the Catholics say they do not worshipwood or stone, but only as emblems of the holy saints, and not as thingsholy in themselves----"
"Pshaw! pshaw!" answered the falconer; "a rush for their prating.They told us another story when these baptized idols of theirs broughtpike-staves and sandalled shoon from all the four winds, and whilliedthe old women out of their corn and their candle ends, and their butter,bacon, wool, and cheese, and when not so much as a gray groat escapedtithing."
Roland Graeme had been long taught, by necessity, to consider his formof religion as a profound secret, and to say nothing whatever in itsdefence when assailed, lest he should draw on himself the suspicion ofbelonging to the unpopular and exploded church. He therefore sufferedAdam Woodcock to triumph without farther opposition, marvelling in hisown mind whether any of th
e goblins, formerly such active agents, wouldavenge his rude raillery before they left the valley of Glendearg.But no such consequences followed. They passed the night quietly in acottage in the glen, and the next day resumed their route to Edinburgh.