Page 38 of The Abbot


  Chapter the Thirty-Sixth.

  He mounted himself on a coal-black steed, And her on a freckled gray, With a bugelet horn hung down from his side, And roundly they rode away. OLD BALLAD.

  The influence of the free air, the rushing of the horses over high andlow, the ringing of the bridles, the excitation at once arising from asense of freedom and of rapid motion, gradually dispelled the confusedand dejected sort of stupefaction by which Queen Mary was at firstoverwhelmed. She could not at last conceal the change of her feelings tothe person who rode at her rein, and who she doubted not was the FatherAmbrosius; for Seyton, with all the heady impetuosity of a youth, proud,and justly so, of his first successful adventure, assumed all the bustleand importance of commander of the little party, which escorted, in thelanguage of the time, the Fortune of Scotland. He now led the van,now checked his bounding steed till the rear had come up, exhorted theleaders to keep a steady, though rapid pace, and commanded those whowere hindmost of the party to use their spurs, and allow no interval totake place in their line of march; and anon he was beside the Queen, orher ladies, inquiring how they brooked the hasty journey, and whetherthey had any commands for him. But while Seyton thus busied himself inthe general cause with some advantage to the regular order of the march,and a good deal of personal ostentation, the horseman who rode besidethe Queen gave her his full and undivided attention, as if he hadbeen waiting upon some superior being. When the road was rugged anddangerous, he abandoned almost entirely the care of his own horse, andkept his hand constantly upon the Queen's bridle; if a river or largerbrook traversed their course, his left arm retained her in the saddle,while his right held her palfrey's rein.

  "I had not thought, reverend Father," said the Queen, when they reachedthe other bank, "that the convent bred such good horsemen."--The personshe addressed sighed, but made no other answer.--"I know not how it is,"said Queen Mary, "but either the sense of freedom, or the pleasure ofmy favourite exercise, from which I have been so long debarred, or bothcombined, seem to have given wings to me--no fish ever shot through thewater, no bird through the air, with the hurried feeling of libertyand rapture with which I sweep through, this night-wind, and over thesewolds. Nay, such is the magic of feeling myself once more in thesaddle, that I could almost swear I am at this moment mounted on my ownfavourite Rosabelle, who was never matched in Scotland for swiftness,for ease of motion, and for sureness of foot."

  "And if the horse which bears so dear a burden could speak," answeredthe deep voice of the melancholy George of Douglas, "would she notreply, who but Rosabelle ought at such an emergence as this to serve herbeloved mistress, or who but Douglas ought to hold her bridle-rein?"

  Queen Mary started; she foresaw at once all the evils like to arise toherself and him from the deep enthusiastic passion of this youth; buther feelings as a woman, grateful at once and compassionate, preventedher assuming the dignity of a Queen, and she endeavoured to continue theconversation in an indifferent tone.

  "Methought," she said, "I heard that, at the division of my spoils,Rosabelle had become the property of Lord Morton's paramour andladye-love Alice."

  "The noble palfrey had indeed been destined to so base a lot," answeredDouglas; "she was kept under four keys, and under the charge of anumerous crew of grooms and domestics--but Queen Mary needed Rosabelle,and Rosabelle is here."

  "And was it well, Douglas," said Queen Mary, "when such fearful risks ofvarious kinds must needs be encountered, that you should augment theirperils to yourself for a subject of so little moment as a palfrey?"

  "Do you call that of little moment," answered Douglas, "which hasafforded you a moment's pleasure?--Did you not start with joy when Ifirst said you were mounted on Rosabelle?--And to purchase you thatpleasure, though it were to last no longer than the flash of lightningdoth, would not Douglas have risked his life a thousand times?"

  "Oh, peace, Douglas, peace," said the Queen, "this is unfittinglanguage; and, besides, I would speak," said she, recollecting herself,"with the Abbot of Saint Mary's--Nay, Douglas, I will not let you quitmy rein in displeasure."

  "Displeasure, lady!" answered Douglas: "alas! sorrow is all that I canfeel for your well-warranted contempt--I should be as soon displeasedwith Heaven for refusing the wildest wish which mortal can form."

  "Abide by my rein, however," said Mary, "there is room for my Lord Abboton the other side; and, besides, I doubt if his assistance would beso useful to Rosabelle and me as yours has been, should the road againrequire it."

  The Abbot came up on the other side, and she immediately opened aconversation with him on the topic of the state of parties, and theplan fittest for her to pursue inconsequence of her deliverance. Inthis conversation Douglas took little share, and never but when directlyapplied to by the Queen, while, as before, his attention seemed entirelyengrossed by the care of Mary's personal safety. She learned, however,she had a new obligation to him, since, by his contrivance, the Abbot,whom he had furnished with the family pass-word, was introduced into thecastle as one of the garrison.

  Long before daybreak they ended their hasty and perilous journey beforethe gates of Niddrie, a castle in West Lothian, belonging to LordSeyton. When the Queen was about to alight, Henry Seyton, preventingDouglas, received her in his arms, and, kneeling down, prayed herMajesty to enter the house of his father, her faithful servant.

  "Your Grace," he added, "may repose yourself here in perfect safety--itis already garrisoned with good men for your protection; and I have senta post to my father, whose instant arrival, at the head of five hundredmen, may be looked for. Do not dismay yourself, therefore, should yoursleep be broken by the trampling of horse; but only think that here aresome scores more of the saucy Seytons come to attend you."

  "And by better friends than the Saucy Seytons, a Scottish Queen cannotbe guarded," replied Mary. "Rosabelle went fleet as the summer breeze,and well-nigh as easy; but it is long since I have been a traveller, andI feel that repose will be welcome.--Catherine, _ma mignone_, youmust sleep in my apartment to-night, and bid me welcome to your noblefather's castle.--Thanks, thanks to all my kind deliverers--thanks, anda good night is all I can now offer; but if I climb once more to theupper side of Fortune's wheel, I will not have her bandage. Mary Stewartwill keep her eyes open, and distinguish her friends.--Seyton, I needscarcely recommend the venerable Abbot, the Douglas, and my page, toyour honour able care and hospitality."

  Henry Seyton bowed, and Catherine and Lady Fleming attended the Queen toher apartment; where, acknowledging to them that she should have foundit difficult in that moment to keep her promise of holding her eyesopen, she resigned herself to repose, and awakened not till the morningwas advanced.

  Mary's first feeling when she awoke, was the doubt of her freedom; andthe impulse prompted her to start from bed, and hastily throwing hermantle over her shoulders, to look out at the casement of her apartment.Oh, sight of joy! instead of the crystal sheet of Lochleven, unalteredsave by the influence of the wind, a landscape of wood and moorland laybefore her, and the park around the castle was occupied by the troops ofher most faithful and most favourite nobles.

  "Rise, rise, Catherine," cried the enraptured Princess; "arise and comehither!--here are swords and spears in true hands, and glittering armouron loyal breasts. Here are banners, my girl, floating in the wind, aslightly as summer clouds--Great God! what pleasure to my weary eyesto trace their devices--thine own brave father's--the princelyHamilton's--the faithful Fleming's--See--see--they have caught a glimpseof me, and throng towards the window!"

  She flung the casement open, and with her bare head, from which thetresses flew back loose and dishevelled, her fair arm slenderly veiledby her mantle, returned by motion and sign the exulting shouts of thewarriors, which echoed for many a furlong around. When the first burstof ecstatic joy was over, she recollected how lightly she was dressed,and, putting her hands to her face, which was covered with blushes atthe recollection, withdrew abruptly from the window. Th
e cause of herretreat was easily conjectured, and increased the general enthusiasm fora Princess, who had forgotten her rank in her haste to acknowledge theservices of her subjects. The unadorned beauties of the lovely woman,too, moved the military spectators more than the highest display of herregal state might; and what might have seemed too free in her mode ofappearing before them, was more than atoned for by the enthusiasm of themoment and by the delicacy evinced in her hasty retreat. Often as theshouts died away, as often were they renewed, till wood and hill rungagain; and many a deep path was made that morning on the cross of thesword, that the hand should not part with the weapon, till Mary Stewartwas restored to her rights. But what are promises, what the hopes ofmortals? In ten days, these gallant and devoted votaries were slain,were captives, or had fled.

  Mary flung herself into the nearest seat, and still blushing, yet halfsmiling, exclaimed, "_Ma mignone_, what will they think of me?--to showmyself to them with my bare feet hastily thrust into the slippers--onlythis loose mantle about me--my hair loose on my shoulders--my arms andneck so bare--Oh, the best they can suppose is, that her abode in yonderdungeon has turned their Queen's brain! But my rebel subjects saw meexposed when I was in the depth of affliction, why should I hold colderceremony with these faithful and loyal men?--Call Fleming, however--Itrust she has not forgotten the little mail with my apparel--We must beas brave as we can, _mignone_."

  "Nay, madam, our good Lady Fleming was in no case to remember anything."

  "You jest, Catherine," said the Queen, somewhat offended; "it is not inher nature surely, to forget her duty so far as to leave us without achange of apparel?"

  "Roland Graeme, madam, took care of that," answered Catherine; "for hethrew the mail, with your highness's clothes and jewels, into the boat,ere he ran back to lock the gate--I never saw so awkward a page as thatyouth--the packet well-nigh fell on my head."

  "He shall make thy heart amends, my girl," said Queen Mary, laughing,"for that and all other offences given. But call Fleming, and let us putourselves into apparel to meet our faithful lords."

  Such had been the preparations, and such was the skill of Lady Fleming,that the Queen appeared before her assembled nobles in such attire asbecame, though it could not enhance, her natural dignity. With the mostwinning courtesy, she expressed to each individual her grateful thanks,and dignified not only every noble, but many of the lesser barons by herparticular attention.

  "And whither now, my lords?" she said; "what way do your counselsdetermine for us?"

  "To Draphane Castle," replied Lord Arbroath, "if your Majesty is sopleased; and thence to Dunbarton, to place your Grace's person insafety, after which we long to prove if these traitors will abide us inthe field."

  "And when do we journey?"

  "We propose," said Lord Seyton, "if your Grace's fatigue will permit, totake horse after the morning's meal."

  "Your pleasure, my Lords, is mine," replied the Queen; "we will rule ourjourney by your wisdom now, and hope hereafter to have the advantage ofgoverning by it our kingdom.--You will permit my ladies and me, mygood lords, to break our fasts along with you--We must be half soldiersourselves, and set state apart."

  Low bowed many a helmeted head at this gracious proffer, when the Queen,glancing her eyes through the assembled leaders, missed both Douglas andRoland Graeme, and inquired for them in a whisper to Catherine Seyton.

  "They are in yonder oratory, madam, sad enough," replied Catherine; andthe Queen observed that her favourite's eyes were red with weeping.

  "This must not be," said the Queen. "Keep the company amused--I willseek them, and introduce them myself."

  She went into the oratory, where the first she met was George Douglas,standing, or rather reclining, in the recess of a window, his backrested against the wall, and his arms folded on his breast. At the sightof the Queen he started, and his countenance showed, for an instant,an expression of intense delight, which was instantly exchanged for hisusual deep melancholy.

  "What means this?" she said; "Douglas, why does the first deviser andbold executor of the happy scheme for our freedom, shun the company ofhis fellow-nobles, and of the Sovereign whom he has obliged?"

  "Madam," replied Douglas, "those whom you grace with your presence bringfollowers to aid your cause, wealth to support your state,--can offeryou halls in which to feast, and impregnable castles for your defence.I am a houseless and landless man--disinherited by my mother, andlaid under her malediction--disowned by my name and kindred--who bringnothing to your standard but a single sword, and the poor life of itsowner."

  "Do you mean to upbraid me, Douglas," replied the Queen, "by showingwhat you have lost for my sake?"

  "God forbid, madam!" interrupted the young man, eagerly; "were it to doagain, and had I ten times as much rank and wealth, and twenty times asmany friends to lose, my losses would be overpaid by the first step youmade, as a free princess, upon the soil of your native kingdom."

  "And what then ails you, that you will not rejoice with those whorejoice upon the same joyful occasion?" said the Queen.

  "Madam," replied the youth," though exheridated and disowned, I am yeta Douglas: with most of yonder nobles my family have been in feud forages--a cold reception amongst them, were an insult, and a kind one yetmore humiliating."

  "For shame, Douglas," replied the Queen, "shake off this unmanlygloom!--I can make thee match for the best of them in title and fortune,and, believe me, I will.--Go then amongst them, I command you."

  "That word," said Douglas, "is enough--I go. This only let me say, thatnot for wealth or title would I have done that which I have done--MaryStewart will not, and the Queen cannot, reward me."

  So saying, he left the oratory, mingled with the nobles, and placedhimself at the bottom of the table. The Queen looked after him, and puther kerchief to her eyes.

  "Now, Our Lady pity me," she said, "for no sooner are my prison caresended, than those which beset me as a woman and a Queen again thickenaround me.--Happy Elizabeth! to whom political interest is every thing,and whose heart never betrays thy head.--And now must I seek thisother boy, if I would prevent daggers-drawing betwixt him and the youngSeyton."

  Roland Graeme was in the same oratory, but at such a distance fromDouglas, that he could not overhear what passed betwixt the Queen andhim. He also was moody and thoughtful, but cleared his brow at theQueen's question, "How now, Roland? you are negligent in your attendancethis morning. Are you so much overcome with your night's ride?"

  "Not so, gracious madam," answered Graeme; "but I am told the page ofLochleven is not the page of Niddrie Castle; and so Master Henry Seytonhath in a manner been pleased to supersede my attendance."

  "Now, Heaven forgive me," said the Queen, "how soon these cock-chickensbegin to spar!--with children and boys, at least, I may be a queen.--Iwill have you friends.--Some one send me Henry Seyton hither." As shespoke the last words aloud, the youth whom she had named entered theapartment. "Come hither," she said, "Henry Seyton--I will have you giveyour hand to this youth, who so well aided in the plan of my escape."

  "Willingly, madam," answered Seyton, "so that the youth will grant me,as a boon, that he touch not the hand of another Seyton whom he knowsof. My hand has passed current for hers with him before now--and to winmy friendship, he must give up thoughts of my sister's love."

  "Henry Seyton," said the Queen, "does it become you to add any conditionto my command?"

  "Madam," said Henry, "I am the servant of your Grace's throne, son tothe most loyal man in Scotland. Our goods, our castles, our blood, areyours: Our honour is in our own keeping. I could say more, but--"

  "Nay, speak on, rude boy," said the Queen; "what avails it that I amreleased from Lochleven, if I am thus enthralled under the yoke of mypretended deliverers, and prevented from doing justice to one who hasdeserved as well of me as yourself?"

  "Be not in this distemperature for me, sovereign Lady," said Roland;"this young gentleman, being the faithful servant of your Grace, and thebrother of Catherine Se
yton, bears that about him which will charm downmy passion at the hottest."

  "I warn thee once more," said Henry Seyton, haughtily, "that you make nospeech which may infer that the daughter of Lord Seyton can be aught tothee beyond what she is to every churl's blood in Scotland."

  The Queen was again about to interfere, for Roland's complexion rose,and it became somewhat questionable how long his love for Catherinewould suppress the natural fire of his temper. But the interposition ofanother person, hitherto unseen, prevented Mary's interference, Therewas in the oratory a separate shrine, enclosed with a high screenof pierced oak, within which was placed an image of Saint Bennet, ofpeculiar sanctity. From this recess, in which she had been probablyengaged in her devotions, issued suddenly Magdalen Graeme, and addressedHenry Seyton, in reply to his last offensive expressions,--"And ofwhat clay, then, are they moulded these Seytons, that the blood of theGraemes may not aspire to mingle with theirs? Know, proud boy, that whenI call this youth my daughter's child, I affirm his descent from MaliseEarl of Strathern, called Malise with the Bright Brand; and I trow theblood of your house springs from no higher source."

  "Good mother," said Seyton, "methinks your sanctity should make yousuperior to these worldly vanities; and indeed it seems to have renderedyou somewhat oblivious touching them, since, to be of gentle descent,the father's name and lineage must be as well qualified as themother's."

  "And if I say he comes of the blood of Avenel by the father's side,"replied Magdalen Graeme, "name I not blood as richly coloured as thineown?"

  "Of Avenel?" said the Queen; "is my page descended of Avenel?"

  "Ay, gracious Princess, and the last male heir of that ancienthouse--Julian Avenel was his father, who fell in battle against theSouthron."

  "I have heard the tale of sorrow," said the Queen; "it was thy daughter,then, who followed that unfortunate baron to the field, and died on hisbody? Alas! how many ways does woman's affection find to work out herown misery! The tale has oft been told and sung in hall and bower--Andthou, Roland, art that child of misfortune, who was left among the deadand dying? Henry Seyton, he is thine equal in blood and birth."

  "Scarcely so," said Henry Seyton, "even were he legitimate; but if thetale be told and sung aright, Julian Avenel was a false knight, and hisleman a frail and credulous maiden."

  "Now, by Heaven, thou liest!" said Roland Graeme, and laid his hand onhis sword. The entrance of Lord Seyton, however, prevented violence.

  "Save me, my lord," said the Queen, "and separate these wild and untamedspirits."

  "How, Henry," said the Baron, "are my castle, and the Queen's presence,no checks on thine insolence and impetuosity?--And with whom art thoubrawling?--unless my eyes spell that token false, it is with the veryyouth who aided me so gallantly in the skirmish with the Leslies--Let melook, fair youth, at the medal which thou wearest in thy cap. By SaintBennet, it is the same!--Henry, I command thee to forbear him, as thoulovest my blessing----"

  "And as you honour my command," said the Queen; "good service hath hedone me."

  "Ay, madam," replied young Seyton, "as when he carried the billetenclosed in the sword-sheath to Lochleven--marry, the good youth knew nomore than a pack-horse what he was carrying."

  "But I who dedicated him to this great work," said Magdalen Graeme--"I,by whose advice and agency this just heir hath been unloosed from herthraldom--I, who spared not the last remaining hope of a falling housein this great action--I, at least, knew and counselled; and what meritmay be mine, let the reward, most gracious Queen, descend upon thisyouth. My ministry here is ended; you are free--a sovereign Princess,at the head of a gallant army, surrounded by valiant barons--My servicecould avail you no farther, but might well prejudice you; your fortunenow rests upon men's hearts and men's swords. May they prove as trustyas the faith of women!"

  "You will not leave us, mother," said the Queen--"you whose practices inour favour were so powerful, who dared so many dangers, and wore so manydisguises, to blind our enemies and to confirm our friends--you will notleave us in the dawn of our reviving fortunes, ere we have time to knowand to thank you?"

  "You cannot know her," answered Magdalen Graeme, "who knows notherself--there are times, when, in this woman's frame of mine, there isthe strength of him of Gath--in this overtoiled brain, the wisdom of themost sage counsellor--and again the mist is on me, and my strengthis weakness, my wisdom folly. I have spoken before princes andcardinals--ay, noble Princess, even before the princes of thine ownhouse of Lorraine; and I know not whence the words of persuasion camewhich flowed from my lips, and were drunk in by their ears.--And now,even when I most need words of persuasion, there is something whichchokes my voice, and robs me of utterance."

  "If there be aught in my power to do thee pleasure," said the Queen,"the barely naming it shall avail as well as all thine eloquence."

  "Sovereign Lady," replied the enthusiast, "it shames me that at thishigh moment something of human frailty should cling to one, whose vowsthe saints have heard, whose labours in the rightful cause Heaven hasprospered. But it will be thus while the living spirit is shrined in theclay of mortality--I will yield to the folly," she said, weeping as shespoke, "and it shall be the last." Then seizing Roland's hand, she ledhim to the Queen's feet, kneeling herself upon one knee, and causing himto kneel on both. "Mighty Princess," she said, "look on this flower--itwas found by a kindly stranger on a bloody field of battle, and long itwas ere my anxious eyes saw, and my arms pressed, all that was left ofmy only daughter. For your sake, and for that of the holy faith weboth profess, I could leave this plant, while it was yet tender, tothe nurture of strangers--ay, of enemies, by whom, perchance, his bloodwould have been poured forth as wine, had the heretic Glendinning knownthat he had in his house the heir of Julian Avenel. Since then I haveseen him only in a few hours of doubt and dread, and now I part with thechild of my love--for ever--for ever!--Oh, for every weary step Ihave made in your rightful cause, in this and in foreign lands, giveprotection to the child whom I must no more call mine!"

  "I swear to you, mother," said the Queen, deeply affected, "that, foryour sake and his own, his happiness and fortunes shall be our charge!"

  "I thank you, daughter of princes," said Magdalen, and pressed her lips,first to the Queen's hand, then to the brow of her grandson. "And now,"she said, drying her tears, and rising with dignity, "Earth has hadits own, and Heaven claims the rest.--Lioness of Scotland, go forth andconquer! and if the prayers of a devoted votaress can avail thee, theywill rise in many a land, and from many a distant shrine. I will glidelike a ghost from land to land, from temple to temple; and where thevery name of my country is unknown, the priests shall ask who is theQueen of that distant northern land, for whom the aged pilgrim was sofervent in prayer. Farewell! Honour be thine, and earthly prosperity, ifit be the will of God--if not, may the penance thou shalt do here ensurethee happiness hereafter!--Let no one speak or follow me--my resolutionis taken--my vow cannot be cancelled."

  She glided from their presence as she spoke, and her last look was uponher beloved grandchild. He would have risen and followed, but the Queenand Lord Seyton interfered.

  "Press not on her now," said Lord Seyton, "if you would not lose her forever. Many a time have we seen the sainted mother, and often at the mostneedful moment; but to press on her privacy, or to thwart her purpose,is a crime which she cannot pardon. I trust we shall yet see her at herneed--a holy woman she is for certain, and dedicated wholly to prayerand penance; and hence the heretics hold her as one distracted, whiletrue Catholics deem her a saint."

  "Let me then hope," said the Queen, "that you, my lord, will aid me inthe execution of her last request."

  "What! in the protection of my young second?--cheerfully--that is, inall that your majesty can think it fitting to ask of me.--Henry, givethy hand upon the instant to Roland Avenel, for so I presume he must nowbe called."

  "And shall be Lord of the Barony," said the Queen, "if God prosper ourrightful arms."

  "It can only
be to restore it to my kind protectress, who now holds it,"said young Avenel. "I would rather be landless, all my life, than shelost a rood of ground by me."

  "Nay," said the Queen, looking to Lord Seyton, "his mind matches hisbirth--Henry, thou hast not yet given thy hand."

  "It is his," said Henry, giving it with some appearance of courtesy,but whispering Roland at the same time,--"For all this, thou hast not mysister's."

  "May it please your Grace," said Lord Seyton, "now that these passagesare over, to honour our poor meal. Time it were that our banners werereflected in the Clyde. We must to horse with as little delay as maybe."