Chapter the Eighteenth.
--The sky is clouded, Gaspard, And the vexed ocean sleeps a troubled sleep, Beneath a lurid gleam of parting sunshine. Such slumber hangs o'er discontented lands, While factions doubt, as yet, if they have strength To front the open battle. ALBION--A POEM.
The youthful page paused on the entrance of the court-yard, and imploredhis guide to give him a moment's breathing space. "Let me but lookaround me, man," said he; "you consider not I have never seen such ascene as this before.--And this is Holyrood--the resort of the gallantand gay, and the fair, and the wise, and the powerful!"
"Ay, marry, is it!" said Woodcock; "but I wish I could hood thee as theydo the hawks, for thou starest as wildly as if you sought another frayor another fanfarona. I would I had thee safely housed, for thou lookestwild as a goss-hawk."
It was indeed no common sight to Roland, the vestibule of a palacetraversed by its various groups,--some radiant with gaiety--somepensive, and apparently weighed down by affairs concerning the state, orconcerning themselves. Here the hoary statesman, with his cautiousyet commanding look, his furred cloak and sable pantoufles; there thesoldier in buff and steel, his long sword jarring against the pavement,and his whiskered upper lip and frowning brow, looking an habitualdefiance of danger, which perhaps was not always made good; there againpassed my lord's serving-man, high of heart, and bloody of hand, humbleto his master and his master's equals, insolent to all others. To thesemight be added, the poor suitor, with his anxious look and depressedmien--the officer, full of his brief authority, elbowing his betters,and possibly his benefactors, out of the road--the proud priest, whosought a better benefice--the proud baron, who sought a grant of churchlands--the robber chief, who came to solicit a pardon for the injurieshe had inflicted on his neighbors--the plundered franklin, who came toseek vengeance for that which he had himself received. Besides there wasthe mustering and disposition of guards and soldiers--the despatching ofmessengers, and the receiving them--the trampling and neighing of horseswithout the gate--the flashing of arms, and rustling of plumes, andjingling of spurs, within it. In short, it was that gay and splendidconfusion, in which the eye of youth sees all that is brave andbrilliant, and that of experience much that is doubtful, deceitful,false, and hollow--hopes that will never be gratified--promiseswhich will never be fulfilled--pride in the disguise of humility--andinsolence in that of frank and generous bounty.
As, tired of the eager and enraptured attention which the page gave toa scene so new to him, Adam Woodcock endeavoured to get him to moveforward, before his exuberance of astonishment should attract theobservation of the sharp-witted denizens of the court, the falconerhimself became an object of attention to a gay menial in a dark-greenbonnet and feather, with a cloak of a corresponding colour, laid down,as the phrase then went, by six broad bars of silver lace, and weltedwith violet and silver. The words of recognition burst from bothat once. "What! Adam Woodcock at court!" and "What! MichaelWing-the-wind--and how runs the hackit greyhound bitch now?"
"The waur for the wear, like ourselves, Adam--eight years this grass--nofour legs will carry a dog forever; but we keep her for the breed, andso she 'scapes Border doom--But why stand you gazing there? I promiseyou my lord has wished for you, and asked for you."
"My Lord of Murray asked for me, and he Regent of the kingdom too!" saidAdam. "I hunger and thirst to pay my duty to my good lord;--but I fancyhis good lordship remembers the day's sport on Carnwath-moor; and myDrummelzier falcon, that beat the hawks from the Isle of Man, and wonhis lordship a hundred crowns from the Southern baron whom they calledStanley."
"Nay, not to flatter thee, Adam," said his court-friend, "he remembersnought of thee, or of thy falcon either. He hath flown many a higherflight since that, and struck his quarry too. But come, come hitheraway; I trust we are to be good comrades on the old score."
"What!" said Adam, "you would have me crush a pot with you; but I mustfirst dispose of my eyas, where he will neither have girl to chase, norlad to draw sword upon."
"Is the youngster such a one?" said Michael.
"Ay, by my hood, he flies at all game," replied Woodcock.
"Then had he better come with us," said Michael Wing-the-wind; "for wecannot have a proper carouse just now, only I would wet my lips, and somust you. I want to hear the news from Saint Mary's before you see mylord, and I will let you know how the wind sits up yonder."
While he thus spoke, he led the way to a side door which opened into thecourt; and threading several dark passages with the air of one who knewthe most secret recesses of the palace, conducted them to a small mattedchamber, where he placed bread and cheese and a foaming flagon of alebefore the falconer and his young companion, who immediately did justiceto the latter in a hearty draught, which nearly emptied the measure.Having drawn his breath, and dashed the froth from his whiskers, heobserved, that his anxiety for the boy had made him deadly dry.
"Mend your draught," said his hospitable friend, again supplyingthe flagon from a pitcher which stood beside. "I know the way to thebutterybar. And now, mind what I say--this morning the Earl of Mortoncame to my lord in a mighty chafe."
"What! they keep the old friendship, then?" said Woodcock.
"Ay, ay, man, what else?" said Michael; "one hand must scratch theother. But in a mighty chafe was my Lord of Morton, who, to say truth,looketh on such occasions altogether uncanny, and, as it were, fiendish;and he says to my lord,--for I was in the chamber taking orders abouta cast of hawks that are to be fetched from Darnoway--they match yourlong-winged falcons, friend Adam."
"I will believe that when I see them fly as high a pitch," repliedWoodcock, this professional observation forming a sort of parenthesis.
"However," said Michael, pursuing his tale, "my Lord of Morton, in amighty chafe, asked my Lord Regent whether he was well dealt with--'formy brother,' said he, 'should have had a gift to be Commendator ofKennaqubair, and to have all the temporalities erected into a lordshipof regality for his benefit; and here,' said he, 'the false monks havehad the insolence to choose a new Abbot to put his claim in my brother'sway; and moreover, the rascality of the neighbourhood have burnt andplundered all that was left in the Abbey, so that my brother willnot have a house to dwell in, when he hath ousted the lazy hounds ofpriests.' And my lord, seeing him chafed, said mildly to him, 'Theseare shrewd tidings, Douglas, but I trust they be not true; for HalbertGlendinning went southward yesterday, with a band of spears, andassuredly, had either of these chances happened, that the monks hadpresumed to choose an Abbot, or that the Abbey had been burnt, asyou say, he had taken order on the spot for the punishment of suchinsolence, and had despatched us a messenger.' And the Earl of Mortonreplied--now I pray you, Adam, to notice, that I say this out of loveto you and your lord, and also for old comradeship, and also because SirHalbert hath done me good, and may again--and also because I love notthe Earl of Morton, as indeed more fear than like him--so then it werea foul deed in you to betray me.--'But,' said the Earl to the Regent,'take heed, my lord, you trust not this Glendinning too far--he comesof churl's blood, which was never true to the nobles'--by Saint Andrew,these were his very words.--'And besides,' he said, 'he hath a brother,a monk in Saint Mary's, and walks all by his guidance, and is makingfriends on the Border with Buccleuch and with Ferniehirst, [Footnote:Both these Border Chieftains were great friends of Queen Mary.] and willjoin hand with them, were there likelihood of a new world.' And my lordanswered, like a free noble lord as he is; 'Tush! my Lord of Morton, Iwill be warrant for Glendinning's faith; and for his brother, he is adreamer, that thinks of nought but book and breviary--and if such haphave chanced as you tell of, I look to receive from Glendinning the cowlof a hanged monk, and the head of a riotous churl, by way of sharpand sudden justice.'--And my Lord of Morton left the place, and, as itseemed to me, somewhat malecontent. But since that time, my lord hasasked me more than once whether there has arrived no messenger from theKnight of Avenel. And all this I have told you, tha
t you may frame yourdiscourse to the best purpose, for it seems to me that my lord will notbe well-pleased, if aught has happened like what my Lord of Morton said,and if your lord hath not ta'en strict orders with it."
There was something in this communication which fairly blanked the boldvisage of Adam Woodcock, in spite of the reinforcement which his naturalhardihood had received from the berry-brown ale of Holyrood.
"What was it he said about a churl's head, that grim Lord of Morton?"said the discontented falconer to his friend.
"Nay, it was my Lord Regent, who said that he expected, if the Abbey wasinjured, your Knight would send him the head of the ringleader among therioters."
"Nay, but is this done like a good Protestant," said Adam Woodcock,"or a true Lord of the Congregation? We used to be their white-boys anddarlings when we pulled down the convents in Fife and Perthshire." "Ay,but that," said Michael, "was when old mother Rome held her own, and ourgreat folks were determined she should have no shelter for her head inScotland. But, now that the priests are fled in all quarters, and theirhouses and lands are given to our grandees, they cannot see that we areworking the work of reformation in destroying the palaces of zealousProtestants."
"But I tell you Saint Mary's is not destroyed!" said Woodcock, inincreasing agitation; "some trash of painted windows there werebroken--things that no nobleman could have brooked in his house--somestone saints were brought on their marrow-bones, like old Widdrington atChevy-Chase; but as for fire-raising, there was not so much as a lightedlunt amongst us, save the match which the dragon had to light theburning tow withal, which he was to spit against Saint George; nay, Ihad caution of that."
"How! Adam Woodcock," said his comrade, "I trust thou hadst no hand insuch a fair work? Look you, Adam, I were loth to terrify you, and youjust come from a journey; but I promise you, Earl Morton hath broughtyou down a Maiden from Halifax, you never saw the like of her--andshe'll clasp you round the neck, and your head will remain in her arms."
"Pshaw!" answered Adam, "I am too old to have my head turned by anymaiden of them all. I know my Lord of Morton will go as far for a buxomlass as anyone; but what the devil took him to Halifax all the way? andif he has got a gamester there, what hath she to do with my head?"
"Much, much!" answered Michael. "Herod's daughter, who did suchexecution with her foot and ankle, danced not men's heads off morecleanly than this maiden of Morton. [Footnote: Maiden of Morton--aspecies of Guillotine which the Regent Morton brought down from Halifax,certainly at a period considerably later than intimated in the tale. Hewas himself the first who suffered by the engine.] 'Tis an axe, man,--anaxe which falls of itself like a sash window, and never gives theheadsmen the trouble to wield it."
"By my faith, a shrewd device," said Woodcock; "heaven keep us freeon't!"
The page, seeing no end to the conversation betwixt these two oldcomrades, and anxious from what he had heard, concerning the fate of theAbbot, now interrupted their conference.
"Methinks," he said, "Adam Woodcock, thou hadst better deliver thymaster's letter to the Regent; questionless he hath therein statedwhat has chanced at Kennaquhair, in the way most advantageous for allconcerned."
"The boy is right," said Michael Wing-the-wind, "my lord will be veryimpatient."
"The child hath wit enough to keep himself warm," said Adam Woodcock,producing from his hawking-bag his lord's letter, addressed to the Earlof Murray, "and for that matter so have I. So, Master Roland, you wille'en please to present this yourself to the Lord Regent; his presencewill be better graced by a young page than by an old falconer."
"Well said, canny Yorkshire!" replied his friend; "and but now you wereso earnest to see our good lord!--Why, wouldst thou put the lad intothe noose that thou mayst slip tether thyself?--or dost thou thinkthe maiden will clasp his fair young neck more willingly than thy oldsunburnt weasand?"
"Go to," answered the falconer; "thy wit towers high an it could strikethe quarry. I tell thee, the youth has nought to fear--he had nothingto do with the gambol--a rare gambol it was, Michael, as mad-caps everplayed; and I had made as rare a ballad, if we had had the luck to getit sung to an end. But mum for that--_tace_, as I said before, is Latinfor a candle. Carry the youth to the presence, and I will remain here,with bridle in hand, ready to strike the spurs up to the rowel-heads, incase the hawk flies my way.--I will soon put Soltraedge, I trow, betwixtthe Regent and me, if he means me less than fair play."
"Come on then, my lad," said Michael, "since thou must needs takethe spring before canny Yorkshire." So saying, he led the way throughwinding passages, closely followed by Roland Graeme, until they arrivedat a large winding stone stair, the steps of which were so long andbroad, and at the same time so low, as to render the ascent uncommonlyeasy. When they had ascended about the height of one story, theguide stepped aside, and pushed open the door of a dark and gloomyantechamber; so dark, indeed, that his youthful companion stumbled, andnearly fell down upon a low step, which was awkwardly placed on the verythreshold.
"Take heed," said Michael Wing-the-wind, in a very low tone of voice,and first glancing cautiously round to see if any one listened--"Takeheed, my young friend, for those who fall on these boards seldom riseagain--Seest thou that," he added, in a still lower voice, pointing tosome dark crimson stains on the floor, on which a ray of light, shotthrough a small aperture, and traversing the general gloom of theapartment, fell with mottled radiance--"Seest thou that, youth?--walkwarily, for men have fallen here before you."
"What mean you?" said the page, his flesh creeping, though he scarceknew why; "Is it blood?"
"Ay, ay," said the domestic, in the same whispering tone, and draggingthe youth on by the arm--"Blood it is,--but this is no time to question,or even to look at it. Blood it is, foully and fearfully shed, as foullyand fearfully avenged. The blood," he added, in a still more cautioustone, "of Seignior David."
Roland Graeme's heart throbbed when he found himself so unexpectedly inthe scene of Rizzio's slaughter, a catastrophe which had chilled withhorror all even in that rude age, which had been the theme of wonder andpity through every cottage and castle in Scotland, and had not escapedthat of Avenel. But his guide hurried him forward, permitting no fartherquestion, and with the manner of one who has already tampered too muchwith a dangerous subject. A tap which he made at a low door at one endof the vestibule, was answered by a huissier or usher, who, openingit cautiously, received Michael's intimation that a page waited theRegent's leisure, who brought letters from the Knight of Avenel.
"The Council is breaking up," said the usher; "but give me the packet;his Grace the Regent will presently see the messenger."
"The packet," replied the page, "must be delivered into the Regent's ownhands; such were the orders of my master."
The usher looked at him from head to foot, as if surprised at hisboldness, and then replied, with some asperity, "Say you so, my youngmaster? Thou crowest loudly to be but a chicken, and from a countrybarn-yard too."
"Were it a time or place," said Roland, "thou shouldst see I can domore than crow; but do your duty, and let the Regent know I wait hispleasure."
"Thou art but a pert knave to tell me of my duty," said the courtierin office; "but I will find a time to show you you are out of yours;meanwhile, wait there till you are wanted." So saying, he shut the doorin Roland's face.
Michael Wing-the-wind, who had shrunk from his youthful companion duringthis altercation, according to the established maxim of courtiers ofall ranks, and in all ages, now transgressed their prudential line ofconduct so far as to come up to him once more. "Thou art a hopeful youngspringald," said he, "and I see right well old Yorkshire had reason inhis caution. Thou hast been five minutes in the court, and hast employedthy time so well, as to make a powerful and a mortal enemy out of theusher of the council-chamber. Why, man, you might almost as well haveoffended the deputy butler!"
"I care not what he is," said Roland Graeme; "I will teach whomever Ispeak with to speak civilly to me in return. I did no
t come from Avenelto be browbeaten in Holyrood."
"Bravo, my lad!" said Michael; "it is a fine spirit if you can but holdit--but see, the door opens."
The usher appeared, and, in a more civil tone of voice and manner, said,that his Grace the Regent would receive the Knight of Avenel's message;and accordingly marshalled Roland Graeme the way into the apartment,from which the Council had been just dismissed, after finishing theirconsultations. There was in the room a long oaken table, surrounded bystools of the same wood, with a large elbow chair, covered with crimsonvelvet, at the head. Writing materials and papers were lying therein apparent disorder; and one or two of the privy counsellors who hadlingered behind, assuming their cloaks, bonnets, and swords, and biddingfarewell to the Regent, were departing slowly by a large door, on theopposite side to that through which the page entered. Apparently theEarl of Murray had made some jest, for the smiling countenances of thestatesmen expressed that sort of cordial reception which is paid bycourtiers to the condescending pleasantries of a prince.
The Regent himself was laughing heartily as he said, "Farewell, mylords, and hold me remembered to the Cock of the North."
He then turned slowly round towards Roland Graeme, and the marks ofgaiety, real or assumed, disappeared from his countenance, as completelyas the passing bubbles leave the dark mirror of a still profound lakeinto which a traveller has cast a stone; in the course of a minute hisnoble features had assumed their natural expression of deep and evenmelancholy gravity.
This distinguished statesman, for as such his worst enemies acknowledgedhim, possessed all the external dignity, as well as almost all thenoble qualities, which could grace the power that he enjoyed; and had hesucceeded to the throne as his legitimate inheritance, it is probable hewould have been recorded as one of Scotland's wisest and greatest kings.But that he held his authority by the deposition and imprisonment ofhis sister and benefactress, was a crime which those only can excusewho think ambition an apology for ingratitude. He was dressed plainlyin black velvet, after the Flemish fashion, and wore in his high-crownedhat a jewelled clasp, which looped it up on one side, and formed theonly ornament of his apparel. He had his poniard by his side, and hissword lay on the council table.
Such was the personage before whom Roland Graeme now presented himself,with a feeling of breathless awe, very different from the usual boldnessand vivacity of his temper. In fact, he was, from education and nature,forward, but not impudent, and was much more easily controlled by themoral superiority, arising from the elevated talents and renown of thosewith whom he conversed, than by pretensions founded only on rank orexternal show. He might have braved with indifference the presence of anearl, merely distinguished by his belt and coronet; but he felt overawedin that of the eminent soldier and statesman, the wielder of a nation'spower, and the leader of her armies.--The greatest and wisest areflattered by the deference of youth--so graceful and becoming in itself;and Murray took, with much courtesy, the letter from the hands ofthe abashed and blushing page, and answered with complaisance to theimperfect and half-muttered greeting, which he endeavoured to deliver tohim on the part of Sir Halbert of Avenel. He even paused a moment erehe broke the silk with which the letter was secured, to ask the page hisname--so much he was struck with his very handsome features and form.
"Roland Graeme," he said, repeating the words after the hesitating page."What! of the Grahams of the Lennox?"
"No, my lord," replied Roland; "my parents dwelt in the DebateableLand."
Murray made no further inquiry, but proceeded to read his dispatches;during the perusal of which his brow began to assume a stern expressionof displeasure, as that of one who found something which at oncesurprised and disturbed him. He sat down on the nearest seat, frownedtill his eyebrows almost met together, read the letter twice over, andwas then silent for several minutes. At length, raising his head, hiseye encountered that of the usher, who in vain endeavoured to exchangethe look of eager and curious observation with which he had beenperusing the Regent's features, for that open and unnoticing expressionof countenance, which, in looking at all, seems as if it saw and markednothing--a cast of look which may be practised with advantage by allthose, of whatever degree, who are admitted to witness the familiar andunguarded hours of their superiors. Great men are as jealous of theirthoughts as the wife of King Candaules was of her charms, and will asreadily punish those who have, however involuntarily, beheld them inmental deshabille and exposure.
"Leave the apartment, Hyndman," said the Regent, sternly, "and carryyour observation elsewhere. You are too knowing, sir, for your post,which, by special order, is destined for men of blunter capacity. So!now you look more like a fool than you did,"--(for Hyndman, as mayeasily be supposed, was not a little disconcerted by this rebuke)--"keepthat confused stare, and it may keep your office. Begone, sir!"
The usher departed in dismay, not forgetting to register, amongst hisother causes of dislike to Roland Graeme, that he had been the witnessof this disgraceful chiding. When he had left the apartment, the Regentagain addressed the page.
"Your name, you say, is Armstrong?"
"No," replied Roland, "my name is Graeme, so please you--Roland Graeme,whose forbears were designated of Heathergill, in the Debateable Land."
"Ay, I knew it was a name from the Debateable Land. Hast thou anyacquaintance in Edinburgh?"
"My lord," replied Roland, willing rather to evade this question thanto answer it directly, for the prudence of being silent with respectto Lord Seyton's adventure immediately struck him, "I have been inEdinburgh scarce an hour, and that for the first time in my life."
"What! and thou Sir Halbert Glendinning's page?" said the Regent.
"I was brought up as my Lady's page," said the youth, "and left AvenelCastle for the first time in my life--at least since my childhood--onlythree days since."
"My Lady's page!" repeated the Earl of Murray, as if speaking tohimself; "it was strange to send his Lady's page on a matter of suchdeep concernment--Morton will say it is of a piece with the nominationof his brother to be Abbot; and yet in some sort an inexperienced youthwill best serve the turn.--What hast thou been taught, young man, in thydoughty apprenticeship?"
"To hunt, my lord, and to hawk," said Roland Graeme.
"To hunt coneys, and to hawk at ouzels!" said the Regent, smiling; "forsuch are the sports of ladies and their followers."
Graeme's cheek reddened deeply as he replied, not without some emphasis,"To hunt red-deer of the first head, and to strike down herons of thehighest soar, my lord, which, in Lothian speech, may be termed, foraught I know, coneys and ouzels;-also I can wield a brand and couch alance, according to our Border meaning; in inland speech these may betermed water-flags and bulrushes."
"Thy speech rings like metal," said the Regent, "and I pardon thesharpness of it for the truth.--Thou knowest, then, what belongs to theduty of a man-at-arms?"
"So far as exercise can teach--it without real service in the field,"answered Roland Graeme; "but our Knight permitted none of his householdto make raids, and I never had the good fortune to see a strickenfield."
"The good fortune!" repeated the Regent, smiling somewhat sorrowfully,"take my word, young man, war is the only game from which both partiesrise losers."
"Not always, my lord!" answered the page, with his characteristicaudacity, "if fame speaks truth."
"How, sir?" said the Regent, colouring in his turn, and perhapssuspecting an indiscreet allusion to the height which he himself hadattained by the hap of civil war.
"Because, my lord," said Roland Graeme, without change of tone, "he whofights well, must have fame in life, or honour in death; and so war is agame from which no one can rise a loser."
The Regent smiled and shook his head, when at that moment the dooropened, and the Earl of Morton presented himself.
"I come somewhat hastily," he said, "and I enter unannounced because mynews are of weight--It is as I said; Edward Glendinning is named Abbot,and--"
"Hush, my lord!
" said the Regent, "I know it, but--"
"And perhaps you knew it before I did, my Lord of Murray," answeredMorton, his dark red brow growing darker and redder as he spoke.
"Morton," said Murray, "suspect me not--touch not mine honour--I haveto suffer enough from the calumnies of foes, let me not have to contendwith the unjust suspicions of my friends.--We are not alone," said he,recollecting himself, "or I could tell you more."
He led Morton into one of the deep embrasures which the windows formedin the massive wall, and which afforded a retiring place for theirconversing apart. In this recess, Roland observed them speak togetherwith much earnestness, Murray appearing to be grave and earnest, andMorton having a jealous and offended air, which seemed gradually to giveway to the assurances of the Regent.
As their conversation grew more earnest, they became gradually louderin speech, having perhaps forgotten the presence of the page, the morereadily as his position in the apartment placed him put of sight, sothat he found himself unwillingly privy to more of their discourse thanhe cared to hear. For, page though he was, a mean curiosity after thesecrets of others had never been numbered amongst Roland's failings;and moreover, with all his natural rashness, he could not but doubt thesafety of becoming privy to the secret discourse of these powerful anddreaded men. Still he could neither stop his ears, nor with proprietyleave the apartment; and while he thought of some means of signifyinghis presence, he had already heard so much, that, to have producedhimself suddenly would have been as awkward, and perhaps as dangerous,as in quiet to abide the end of their conference. What he overheard,however, was but an imperfect part of their communication; and althoughan expert politician, acquainted with the circumstances of the times,would have had little difficulty in tracing the meaning, yet RolandGraeme could only form very general and vague conjectures as to theimport of their discourse.
"All is prepared," said Murray, "and Lindsay is setting forward--Shemust hesitate no longer--thou seest I act by thy counsel, and hardenmyself against softer considerations."
"True, my lord," replied Morton, "in what is necessary to gain power,you do not hesitate, but go boldly to the mark. But are you as carefulto defend and preserve what you have won?--Why this establishment ofdomestics around her?--has not your sister men and maidens enoughto tend her, but you must consent to this superfluous and dangerousretinue?"
"For shame, Morton!--a Princess, and my sister, could I do less thanallow her due attendance?"
"Ay," replied Morton, "even thus fly all your shafts--smartly enoughloosened from the bow, and not unskilfully aimed--but a breath offoolish affection ever crosses in the mid volley, and sways the arrowfrom the mark."
"Say not so, Morton," replied Murray, "I have both dared and done--"
"Yes, enough to gain, but not enough to keep--reckon not that she willthink and act thus--you have wounded her deeply, both in pride andin power--it signifies nought, that you would tent now the wound withunavailing salves--as matters stand with you, you must forfeit thetitle of an affectionate brother, to hold that of a bold and determinedstatesman."
"Morton!" said Murray, with some impatience, "I brook not thesetaunts--what I have done I have done--what I must farther do, I mustand will--but I am not made of iron like thee, and I cannot butremember--Enough of this-my purpose holds."
"And I warrant me," said Morton, "the choice of these domesticconsolations will rest with--"
Here he whispered names which escaped Roland Graeme's ear. Murrayreplied in a similar tone, but so much raised towards the conclusion, ofthe sentence, that the page heard these words--"And of him I hold myselfsecure, by Glendinning's recommendation."
"Ay, which may be as much trustworthy as his late conduct at the Abbeyof Saint Mary's--you have heard that his brother's election has takenplace. Your favourite Sir Halbert, my Lord of Murray, has as muchfraternal affection as yourself."
"By heaven, Morton, that taunt demanded an unfriendly answer, but Ipardon it, for your brother also is concerned; but this election shallbe annulled. I tell you, Earl of Morton, while I hold the sword of statein my royal nephew's name, neither Lord nor Knight in Scotland shalldispute my authority; and if I bear--with insults from my friends, it isonly while I know them to be such, and forgive their follies for theirfaithfulness."
Morton muttered what seemed to be some excuse, and the Regent answeredhim in a milder tone, and then subjoined, "Besides, I have anotherpledge than Glendinning's recommendation, for this youth's fidelity--hisnearest relative has placed herself in my hands as his security, to bedealt withal as his doings shall deserve."
"That is something," replied Morton; "but yet in fair love and goodwill,I must still pray you to keep on your guard. The foes are stirringagain, as horse-flies and hornets become busy so soon as the storm-blastis over. George of Seyton was crossing the causeway this morning with ascore of men at his back, and had a ruffle with my friends of thehouse of Leslie--they met at the Tron, and were fighting hard, when theprovost, with his guard of partisans, came in thirdsman, and staved themasunder with their halberds, as men part dog and bear."
"He hath my order for such interference," said the Regent--"Has any onebeen hurt?"
"George of Seyton himself, by black Ralph Leslie--the devil take therapier that ran not through from side to side! Ralph has a bloodycoxcomb, by a blow from a messan-page whom nobody knew--Dick Seyton ofWindygowl is run through the arm, and two gallants of the Leslies havesuffered phlebotomy. This is all the gentle blood which has been spilledin the revel; but a yeoman or two on both sides have had bones brokenand ears chopped. The ostlere-wives, who are like to be the only losersby their miscarriage, have dragged the knaves off the street, and arecrying a drunken coronach over them."
"You take it lightly, Douglas," said the Regent; "these broils and feudswould shame the capital of the great Turk, let alone that of a Christianand reformed state. But, if I live, this gear shall be amended; and menshall say, when they read my story, that if it were my cruel hap to riseto power by the dethronement of a sister, I employed it, when gained,for the benefit of the commonweal."
"And of your friends," replied Morton; "wherefore I trust for yourinstant order annulling the election of this lurdane Abbot, EdwardGlendinning."
"You shall be presently satisfied." said the Regent; and steppingforward, he began to call, "So ho, Hyndman!" when suddenly his eyelighted on Roland Graeme--"By my faith, Douglas," said he, turning tohis friend, "here have been three at counsel!"
"Ay, but only two can keep counsel," said Morton; "the galliard must bedisposed of."
"For shame, Morton--an orphan boy!--Hearken thee, my child--Thou hasttold me some of thy accomplishments--canst thou speak truth?" "Ay, mylord, when it serves my turn," replied Graeme.
"It shall serve thy turn now," said the Regent; "and falsehood shall bethy destruction. How much hast thou heard or understood of what we twohave spoken together?"
"But little, my lord," replied Roland Graeme boldly, "which met myapprehension, saving that it seemed to me as if in something you doubtedthe faith of the Knight of Avenel, under whose roof I was nurtured."
"And what hast thou to say on that point, young man?" continued theRegent, bending his eyes upon him with a keen and strong expression ofobservation.
"That," said the page, "depends on the quality of those who speakagainst his honour whose bread I have long eaten. If they be myinferiors, I say they lie, and will maintain what I say with my baton;if my equals, still I say they lie, and will do battle in the quarrel,if they list, with my sword; if my superiors"--he paused.
"Proceed boldly," said the Regent--"What if thy superiors said aughtthat nearly touched your master's honour?"
"I would say," replied Graeme, "that he did ill to slander the absent,and that my master was a man who could render an account of his actionsto any one who should manfully demand it of him to his face."
"And it were manfully said," replied the Regent--"what thinkest thou, myLord of Morton?"
"I think," replied Mo
rton, "that if the young galliard resemble acertain ancient friend of ours, as much in the craft of his dispositionas he does in eye and in brow, there may be a wide difference betwixtwhat he means and what he speaks."
"And whom meanest thou that he resembles so closely?" said Murray.
"Even the true and trusty Julian Avenel," replied Morton.
"But this youth belongs to the Debateable Land," said Murray.
"It may be so; but Julian was an outlaying striker of venison, and mademany a far cast when he had a fair doe in chase."
"Pshaw!" said the Regent, "this is but idle talk--Here,thou Hyndman--thou curiosity," calling to the usher, who nowentered,--"conduct this youth to his companion--You will both," hesaid to Graeme, "keep yourselves in readiness to travel on shortnotice."--And then motioning to him courteously to withdraw, he broke upthe interview.