Page 5 of The Abbot


  Chapter the Third.

  The waning harvest-moon shone broad and bright, The warder's horn was heard at dead of night, And while the portals-wide were flung, With trampling hoofs the rocky pavement rung. LEYDEN.

  "And you, too, would be a soldier, Roland?" said the Lady of Avenelto her young charge, while, seated on a stone chair at one end of thebattlements, she saw the boy attempt, with a long stick, to mimic themotions of the warder, as he alternately shouldered, or ported, orsloped pike.

  "Yes, Lady," said the boy,--for he was now familiar, and replied to herquestions with readiness and alacrity,-"a soldier will I be; for therene'er was gentleman but who belted him with the brand."

  "Thou a gentleman!" said Lilias, who, as usual, was in attendance; "sucha gentleman as I would make of a bean-cod with a rusty knife."

  "Nay, chide him not, Lilias," said the Lady of Avenel, "for, beshrew me,but I think he comes of gentle blood--see how it musters in his face atyour injurious reproof."

  "Had I my will, madam," answered Lilias, "a good birchen wand shouldmake his colour muster to better purpose still."

  "On my word, Lilias," said the Lady, "one would think you had receivedharm from the poor boy--or is he so far on the frosty side of yourfavour because he enjoys the sunny side of mine?"

  "Over heavens forbode, my Lady!" answered Lilias; "I have lived too longwith gentles, I praise my stars for it, to fight with either follies orfantasies, whether they relate to beast, bird, or boy."

  Lilias was a favourite in her own class, a spoiled domestic, and oftenaccustomed to take more licence than her mistress was at all timeswilling to encourage. But what did not please the Lady of Avenel, shedid not choose to hear, and thus it was on the present occasion. Sheresolved to look more close and sharply after the boy, who had hithertobeen committed chiefly to the management of Lilias. He must, shethought, be born of gentle blood; it were shame to think otherwise ofa form so noble, and features so fair;--the very wildness in whichhe occasionally indulged, his contempt of danger, and impatience ofrestraint, had in them something noble;--assuredly the child was born ofhigh rank. Such was her conclusion, and she acted upon it accordingly.The domestics around her, less jealous, or less scrupulous than Lilias,acted as servants usually do, following the bias, and flattering, fortheir own purposes, the humour of the Lady; and the boy soon took on himthose airs of superiority, which the sight of habitual deference seldomfails to inspire. It seemed, in truth, as if to command were his naturalsphere, so easily did he use himself to exact and receive compliancewith his humours. The chaplain, indeed, might have interposed to checkthe air of assumption which Roland Graeme so readily indulged, andmost probably would have willingly rendered him that favour; but thenecessity of adjusting with his brethren some disputed points of churchdiscipline had withdrawn him for some time from the castle, and detainedhim in a distant part of the kingdom.

  Matters stood thus in the castle of Avenel, when a winded bugle sent itsshrill and prolonged notes from the shore of the lake, and was repliedto cheerily by the signal of the warder. The Lady of Avenel knew thesounds of her husband, and rushed to the window of the apartment inwhich she was sitting. A band of about thirty spearmen, with a pennondisplayed before them, winded along the indented shores of the lake,and approached the causeway. A single horseman rode at the head of theparty, his bright arms catching a glance of the October sun as he movedsteadily along. Even at that distance, the Lady recognized the loftyplume, bearing the mingled colours of her own liveries and those ofGlendonwyne, blended with the holly-branch; and the firm seat anddignified demeanour of the rider, joined to the stately motion of thedark-brown steed, sufficiently announced Halbert Glendinning.

  The Lady's first thought was that of rapturous joy at her husband'sreturn--her second was connected with a fear which had sometimesintruded itself, that he might not altogether approve the peculiardistinction with which she had treated her orphan ward. In this fearthere was implied a consciousness, that the favour she had shown him wasexcessive; for Halbert Glendinning was at least as gentle and indulgent,as he was firm and rational in the intercourse of his household; and toher in particular, his conduct had ever been most affectionately tender.

  Yet she did fear, that, on the present occasion, her conduct might incurSir Halbert's censure; and hastily resolving that she would not mention,the anecdote of the boy until the next day, she ordered him to bewithdrawn from the apartment by Lilias.

  "I will not go with Lilias, madam," answered the spoiled child, whohad more than once carried his point by perseverance, and who, like hisbetters, delighted in the exercise of such authority,--"I will not go toLilias's gousty room--I will stay and see that brave warrior who comesriding so gallantly along the drawbridge."

  "You must not stay, Roland," said the Lady, more positively than sheusually spoke to her little favourite.

  "I will," reiterated the boy, who had already felt his consequence, andthe probable chance of success.

  "You _will_, Roland!" answered the Lady, "what manner of word is that? Itell you, you must go."

  "_Will_," answered the forward boy, "is a word for a man, and _must_ isno word for a lady."

  "You are saucy, sirrah," said the Lady--"Lilias, take him with youinstantly."

  "I always thought," said Lilias, smiling, as she seized the reluctantboy by the arm, "that my young master must give place to my old one."

  "And you, too, are malapert, mistress!" said the Lady; "hath the moonchanged, that ye all of you thus forget yourselves?"

  Lilias made no reply, but led off the boy, who, too proud to offerunavailing resistance, darted at his benefactress a glance, whichintimated plainly, how willingly he would have defied her authority, hadhe possessed the power to make good his point.

  The Lady of Avenel was vexed to find how much this trifling circumstancehad discomposed her, at the moment when she ought naturally to havebeen entirely engrossed by her husband's return. But we do not recovercomposure by the mere feeling that agitation is mistimed. The glow ofdispleasure had not left the Lady's cheek, her ruffled deportment wasnot yet entirely composed, when her husband, unhelmeted, but stillwearing the rest of his arms, entered the apartment. His appearancebanished the thoughts of every thing else; she rushed to him, claspedhis iron-sheathed frame in her arms, and kissed his martial and manlyface with an affection which was at once evident and sincere. Thewarrior returned her embrace and her caress with the same fondness; forthe time which had passed since their union had diminished its romanticardour, perhaps, but it had rather increased its rational tenderness,and Sir Halbert Glendinning's long and frequent absences from his castlehad prevented affection from degenerating by habit into indifference.

  When the first eager greetings were paid and received, the Ladygazed fondly on her husband's face as she remarked, "You are altered,Halbert--you have ridden hard and far to-day, or you have been ill?"

  "I have been well, Mary," answered the Knight, "passing well haveI been; and a long ride is to me, thou well knowest, but a thing ofconstant custom. Those who are born noble may slumber out their liveswithin the walls of their castles and manor-houses; but he who hathachieved nobility by his own deeds must ever be in the saddle, to showthat he merits his advancement."

  While he spoke thus, the Lady gazed fondly on him, as if endeavouringto read his inmost soul; for the tone in which he spoke was that ofmelancholy depression.

  Sir Halbert Glendinning was the same, yet a different person from whathe had appeared in his early years. The fiery freedom of the aspiringyouth had given place to the steady and stern composure of the approvedsoldier and skilful politician. There were deep traces of care on thosenoble features, over which each emotion used formerly to pass, likelight clouds across a summer sky. That sky was now, not perhaps clouded,but still and grave, like that of the sober autumn evening. The foreheadwas higher and more bare than in early youth, and the locks which stillclustered thick and dark on the warrior's head, were worn away at
thetemples, not by age, but by the constant pressure of the steel cap, orhelmet. His beard, according to the fashion of the time, grew short andthick, and was turned into mustaches on the upper lip, and peaked at theextremity. The cheek, weather-beaten and embrowned, had lost the glowof youth, but showed the vigorous complexion of active and confirmedmanhood. Halbert Glendinning was, in a word, a knight to ride at aking's right hand, to bear his banner in war, and to be his counsellorin time of peace; for his looks expressed the considerate firmness whichcan resolve wisely and dare boldly. Still, over these noble features,there now spread an air of dejection, of which, perhaps, the owner wasnot conscious, but which did not escape the observation of his anxiousand affectionate partner.

  "Something has happened, or is about to happen," said the Lady ofAvenel; "this sadness sits not on your brow without cause--misfortune,national or particular, must needs be at hand."

  "There is nothing new that I wot of," said Halbert Glendinning; "butthere is little of evil which can befall a kingdom, that may not beapprehended in this unhappy and divided realm."

  "Nay, then," said the Lady, "I see there hath really been some fatalwork on foot. My Lord of Murray has not so long detained you atHolyrood, save that he wanted your help in some weighty purpose."

  "I have not been at Holyrood, Mary," answered the Knight; "I have beenseveral weeks abroad."

  "Abroad! and sent me no word?" replied the Lady.

  "What would the knowledge have availed, but to have rendered youunhappy, my love?" replied the Knight; "your thoughts would haveconverted the slightest breeze that curled your own lake, into a tempestraging in the German ocean."

  "And have you then really crossed the sea?" said the Lady, to whom thevery idea of an element which she had never seen conveyed notions ofterror and of wonder,--"really left your own native land, and troddendistant shores, where the Scottish tongue is unheard and unknown?"

  "Really, and really," said the Knight, taking her hand in affectionateplayfulness, "I have done this marvellous deed--have rolled on the oceanfor three days and three nights, with the deep green waves dashing bythe side of my pillow, and but a thin plank to divide me from it."

  "Indeed, my Halbert," said the Lady, "that was a tempting of DivineProvidence. I never bade you unbuckle the sword from your side, or laythe lance from your hand--I never bade you sit still when your honourcalled you to rise and ride; but are not blade and spear dangers enoughfor one man's life, and why would you trust rough waves and ragingseas?"

  "We have in Germany, and in the Low Countries, as they are called,"answered Glendinning, "men who are united with us in faith, and withwhom it is fitting we should unite in alliance. To some of these I wasdespatched on business as important as it was secret. I went in safety,and I returned in security; there is more danger to a man's life betwixtthis and Holyrood, than are in all the seas that wash the lowlands ofHolland."

  "And the country, my Halbert, and the people," said the Lady, "are theylike our kindly Scots? or what bearing have they to strangers?"

  "They are a people, Mary, strong in their wealth, which renders allother nations weak, and weak in those arts of war by which other nationsare strong."

  "I do not understand you," said the Lady.

  "The Hollander and the Fleming, Mary, pour forth their spirit intrade, and not in war; their wealth purchases them the arms of foreignsoldiers, by whose aid they defend it. They erect dikes on the sea-shoreto protect the land which they have won, and they levy regiments of thestubborn Switzers and hardy Germans to protect the treasures which theyhave amassed. And thus they are strong in their weakness; for the verywealth which tempts their masters to despoil them, arms strangers intheir behalf."

  "The slothful hinds!" exclaimed Mary, thinking and feeling like aScotswoman of the period; "have they hands, and fight not for the landwhich bore them? They should be notched off at the elbow!"

  "Nay, that were but hard justice," answered her husband; "for theirhands serve their country, though not in battle, like ours. Look atthese barren hills, Mary, and at that deep winding vale by which thecattle are even now returning from their scanty browse. The hand of theindustrious Fleming would cover these mountains with wood, and raisecorn where we now see a starved and scanty sward of heath and ling. Itgrieves me, Mary, when I look on that land, and think what benefit itmight receive from such men as I have lately seen--men who seek notthe idle fame derived from dead ancestors, or the bloody renown won inmodern broils, but tread along the land, as preservers and improvers,not as tyrants and destroyers."

  "These amendments would here be but a vain fancy, my Halbert," answeredthe Lady of Avenel; "the trees would be burned by the English foemen,ere they ceased to be shrubs, and the grain that you raised would begathered in by the first neighbour that possessed more riders thanfollow your train. Why should you repine at this? The fate that madeyou Scotsman by birth, gave you head, and heart, and hand, to uphold thename as it must needs be upheld."

  "It gave _me_ no name to uphold," said Halbert, pacing the floor slowly;"my arm has been foremost in every strife--my voice has been heard inevery council, nor have the wisest rebuked me. The crafty Lethington,the deep and dark Morton, have held secret council with me, and Grangeand Lindsay have owned, that in the field I did the devoir of a gallantknight--but let the emergence be passed when they need my head and hand,and they only know me as son of the obscure portioner of Glendearg."

  This was a theme which the Lady always dreaded; for the rank conferredon her husband, the favour in which he was held by the powerful Earl ofMurray, and the high talents by which he vindicated his right tothat rank and that favour, were qualities which rather increased thandiminished the envy which was harboured against Sir Halbert Glendinningamong a proud aristocracy, as a person originally of inferior andobscure birth, who had risen to his present eminence solely by hispersonal merit. The natural firmness of his mind did not enable him todespise the ideal advantages of a higher pedigree, which were held insuch universal esteem by all with whom he conversed; and so open arethe noblest minds to jealous inconsistencies, that there were moments inwhich he felt mortified that his lady should possess those advantagesof birth and high descent which he himself did not enjoy, and regrettedthat his importance as the proprietor of Avenel was qualified by hispossessing it only as the husband of the heiress. He was not so unjustas to permit any unworthy feelings to retain permanent possession of hismind, but yet they recurred from time to time, and did not escape hislady's anxious observation.

  "Had we been blessed with children," she was wont on such occasionsto say to herself, "had our blood been united in a son who might havejoined my advantages of descent with my husband's personal worth, thesepainful and irksome reflections had not disturbed our union even for amoment. But the existence of such an heir, in whom our affections, aswell as our pretensions, might have centred, has been denied to us."

  With such mutual feelings, it cannot be wondered that it gave theLady pain to hear her husband verging towards this topic of mutualdiscontent. On the present, as on other similar occasions, sheendeavoured to divert the knight's thoughts from this painful channel.

  "How can you," she said, "suffer yourself to dwell upon things whichprofit nothing? Have you indeed no name to uphold? You, the good and thebrave, the wise in council, and the strong in battle, have you notto support the reputation your own deeds have won, a reputation morehonourable than mere ancestry can supply? Good men love and honour you,the wicked fear, and the turbulent obey you; and is it not necessary youshould exert yourself to ensure the endurance of that love, that honour,and wholesome fear, and that necessary obedience?"

  As she thus spoke, the eye of her husband caught from hers courage andcomfort, and it lightened as he took her hand and replied, "It ismost true, my Mary, and I deserve thy rebuke, who forget what I am, inrepining because I am not what I cannot be. I am now what the most famedancestors of those I envy were, the mean man raised into eminence byhis own exertions; and sure it is a boast as honourable
to have thosecapacities which are necessary to the foundation of a family, as to bedescended from one who possessed them some centuries before. The Hay ofLoncarty, who bequeathed his bloody yoke to his lineage,--the 'dark grayman,' who first founded the house of Douglas, had yet less of ancestryto boast than I have. For thou knowest, Mary, that my name derivesitself from a line of ancient warriors, although my immediateforefathers preferred the humble station in which thou didst firstfind them; and war and counsel are not less proper to the house ofGlendonwyne, even, in its most remote descendants, than to the proudestof their baronage." [Footnote: This was a house of ancient descent andsuperior consequence, including persons who fought at Bannockburn andOtterburn, and closely connected by alliance and friendship with thegreat Earls of Douglas. The Knight in this story argues as most Scotsmenwould do in his situation, for all of the same clan are popularlyconsidered as descended from the same stock, and as having a right tothe ancestral honor of the chief branch. This opinion, though sometimesideal, is so strong even at this day of innovation, that it may beobserved as a national difference between my countrymen and the English.If you ask an Englishman of good birth, whether a person of the samename be connected with him, he answers (if _in dubio._) "No--he is amere namesake." Ask a similar question of a Scot, (I mean a Scotsman,)he replies--"He is one of our clan; I daresay there is a relationship,though I do not know how distant." The Englishman thinks ofdiscountenancing a species of rivalry in society; the Scotsman's answeris grounded on the ancient idea of strengthening the clan.]

  He strode across the hall as he spoke; and the Lady smiled internallyto observe how much his mind dwelt upon the prerogatives of birth, andendeavoured to establish his claims, however remote, to a share in them,at the very moment when he affected to hold them in contempt. It willeasily be guessed, however, that she permitted no symptom to escapeher that could show she was sensible of the weakness of her husband, aperspicacity which perhaps his proud spirit could not very easily havebrooked.

  As he returned from the extremity of the hall, to which he had stalkedwhile in the act of vindicating the title of the house of Glendonwyne inits most remote branches to the full privileges of aristocracy, "Where,"he said, "is Wolf? I have not seen him since my return, and he wasusually the first to welcome my home-coming."

  "Wolf," said the Lady, with a slight degree of embarrassment, for whichperhaps, she would have found it difficult to assign any reason even toherself, "Wolf is chained up for the present. He hath been surly to mypage."

  "Wolf chained up--and Wolf surly to your page!" answered Sir HalbertGlendinning; "Wolf never was surly to any one; and the chain will eitherbreak his spirit or render him savage--So ho, there--set Wolf freedirectly."

  He was obeyed; and the huge dog rushed into the hall, disturbing, by hisunwieldy and boisterous gambols, the whole economy of reels, rocks, anddistaffs, with which the maidens of the household were employed when thearrival of their lord was a signal to them to withdraw, and extractingfrom Lilias, who was summoned to put them again in order, the naturalobservation, "That the Laird's pet was as troublesome as the lady'spage."

  "And who is this page, Mary?" said the Knight, his attention againcalled to the subject by the observation of the waiting-woman,--"Whois this page, whom every one seems to weigh in the balance with myold friend and favourite, Wolf?--When did you aspire to the dignity ofkeeping a page, or who is the boy?"

  "I trust, my Halbert," said the Lady, not without a blush, "you willnot think your wife entitled to less attendance than other ladies of herquality?"

  "Nay, Dame Mary," answered the Knight, "it is enough you desire suchan attendant.--Yet I have never loved to nurse such useless menials--alady's page--it may well suit the proud English dames to have a slenderyouth to bear their trains from bower to hall, fan them when theyslumber, and touch the lute for them when they please to listen; but ourScottish matrons were wont to be above such vanities, and our Scottishyouth ought to be bred to the spear and the stirrup."

  "Nay, but, my husband," said the Lady, "I did but jest when I calledthis boy my page; he is in sooth a little orphan whom we saved fromperishing in the lake, and whom I have since kept in the castle out ofcharity.--Lilias, bring little Roland hither."

  Roland entered accordingly, and, flying to the Lady's side, took holdof the plaits of her gown, and then turned round, and gazed withan attention not unmingled with fear, upon the stately form of theKnight.--"Roland," said the Lady, "go kiss the hand of the noble Knight,and ask him to be thy protector."--But Roland obeyed not, and, keepinghis station, continued to gaze fixedly and timidly on Sir HalbertGlendinning.--"Go to the Knight, boy," said the Lady; "what dost thoufear, child? Go, kiss Sir Halbert's hand."

  "I will kiss no hand save yours, Lady," answered the boy.

  "Nay, but do as you are commanded, child," replied the Lady.--"He isdashed by your presence," she said, apologizing to her husband; "but ishe not a handsome boy?"

  "And so is Wolf," said Sir Halbert, as he patted his huge four-footedfavourite, "a handsome dog; but he has this double advantage over yournew favourite, that he does what he is commanded, and hears not when heis praised."

  "Nay, now you are displeased with me," replied the Lady; "and yet whyshould you be so? There is nothing wrong in relieving the distressedorphan, or in loving that which is in itself lovely and deserving ofaffection. But you have seen Mr. Warden at Edinburgh, and he has set youagainst the poor boy."

  "My dear Mary," answered her husband, "Mr. Warden better knows his placethan to presume to interfere either in your affairs or mine. I neitherblame your relieving this boy, nor your kindness for him. But, I think,considering his birth and prospects, you ought not to treat him withinjudicious fondness, which can only end in rendering him unfit for thehumble situation to which Heaven has designed him."

  "Nay, but, my Halbert, do but look at the boy," said the Lady, "and seewhether he has not the air of being intended by Heaven for somethingnobler than a mere peasant. May he not be designed, as others have been,to rise out of a humble situation into honour and eminence?"

  Thus far had she proceeded, when the consciousness that she was treadingupon delicate ground at once occurred to her, and induced her to takethe most natural, but the worst of all courses in such occasions,whether in conversation or in an actual bog, namely, that of stoppingsuddenly short in the illustration which she had commenced. Her browcrimsoned, and that of Sir Halbert Glendinning was slightly overcast.But it was only for an instant; for he was incapable of mistaking hislady's meaning, or supposing that she meant intentional disrespect tohim.

  "Be it as you please, my love," he replied; "I owe you too much tocontradict you in aught which may render your solitary mode of lifemore endurable. Make of this youth what you will, and you have myfull authority for doing so. But remember he is your charge, notmine--remember he hath limbs to do man's service, a soul and a tongueto worship God; breed him, therefore, to be true to his country and toHeaven; and for the rest, dispose of him as you list--it is, and shallrest, your own matter."

  This conversation decided the fate of Roland Graeme, who fromthence-forward was little noticed by the master of the mansion ofAvenel, but indulged and favoured by its mistress.

  This situation led to many important consequences, and, in truth, tendedto bring forth the character of the youth in all its broad lights anddeep shadows. As the Knight himself seemed tacitly to disclaim alikeinterest and control over the immediate favourite of his lady, youngRoland was, by circumstances, exempted from the strict discipline towhich, as the retainer of a Scottish man of rank, he would otherwisehave been subjected, according to all the rigour of the age. But thesteward, or master of the household--such was the proud title assumedby the head domestic of each petty baron--deemed it not advisable tointerfere with the favourite of the Lady, and especially since she hadbrought the estate into the present family. Master Jasper Wingate was aman experienced, as he often boasted, in the ways of great families, andknew how to keep the steerage even when the w
ind and tide chanced to bein contradiction.

  This prudent personage winked at much, and avoided giving opportunityfor farther offence, by requesting little of Roland Graeme beyondthe degree of attention which he was himself disposed to pay; rightlyconjecturing, that however lowly the place which the youth might hold inthe favour of the Knight of Avenel, still to make an evil report ofhim would make an enemy of the Lady, without securing the favour of herhusband. With these prudential considerations, and doubtless not withoutan eye to his own ease and convenience, he taught the boy as much, andonly as much, as he chose to learn, readily admitting whatever apologyit pleased his pupil to allege in excuse for idleness or negligence.As the other persons in the castle, to whom such tasks were delegated,readily imitated the prudential conduct of the major-domo, there waslittle control used towards Roland Graeme, who, of course, learned nomore than what a very active mind, and a total impatience of absoluteidleness led him to acquire upon his own account, and by dint of hisown exertions. The latter were especially earnest, when the Lady herselfcondescended to be his tutress, or to examine his progress.

  It followed also from his quality as my Lady's favourite, that Rolandwas viewed with no peculiar good-will by the followers of the Knight,many of whom, of the same age, and apparently similar origin, with thefortunate page, were subjected to severe observance of the ancient andrigorous discipline of a feudal retainer. To these, Roland Graeme wasof course an object of envy, and, in consequence, of dislike anddetraction; but the youth possessed qualities which it was impossibleto depreciate. Pride, and a sense of early ambition, did for him whatseverity and constant instruction did for others. In truth, the youthfulRoland displayed that early flexibility both of body and mind, whichrenders exercise, either mental or bodily, rather matter of sport thanof study; and it seemed as if he acquired accidentally, and by starts,those accomplishments, which earnest and constant instruction, enforcedby frequent reproof and occasional chastisement, had taught to others.Such military exercises, such lessons of the period, as he found itagreeable or convenient to apply to, he learned so perfectly, asto confound those who were ignorant how often the want of constantapplication is compensated by vivacity of talent and ardent enthusiasm.The lads, therefore, who were more regularly trained to arms, tohorsemanship, and to other necessary exercises of the period, while theyenvied Roland Graeme the indulgence or negligence with which heseemed to be treated, had little reason to boast of their own superioracquirements; a few hours, with the powerful exertion of a mostenergetic will, seemed to do for him more than the regular instructionof weeks could accomplish for others.

  Under these advantages, if, indeed, they were to be termed such,the character of young Roland began to develope itself. It was bold,peremptory, decisive, and overbearing; generous, if neither withstoodnor contradicted; vehement and passionate, if censured or opposed. Heseemed to consider himself as attached to no one, and responsible tono one, except his mistress, and even over her mind he had graduallyacquired that species of ascendancy which indulgence is so apt tooccasion. And although the immediate followers and dependents of SirHalbert Glendinning saw his ascendancy with jealousy, and often tookoccasion to mortify his vanity, there wanted not those who were willingto acquire the favour of the Lady of Avenel by humouring and taking partwith the youth whom she protected; for although a favourite, as the poetassures us, has no friend, he seldom fails to have both followers andflatterers.

  The partisans of Roland Graeme were chiefly to be found amongst theinhabitants of the little hamlet on the shore of the lake. Thesevillagers, who were sometimes tempted to compare their own situationwith that of the immediate and constant followers of the Knight, whoattended him on his frequent journeys to Edinburgh and elsewhere,delighted in considering and representing themselves as more properlythe subjects of the Lady of Avenel than of her husband. It is true, herwisdom and affection on all occasions discountenanced the distinctionwhich was here implied; but the villagers persisted in thinking it mustbe agreeable to her to enjoy their peculiar and undivided homage, or atleast in acting as if they thought so; and one chief mode by which theyevinced their sentiments, was by the respect they paid to young RolandGraeme, the favourite attendant of the descendant of their ancientlords. This was a mode of flattery too pleasing to encounter rebuke orcensure; and the opportunity which it afforded the youth to form, asit were, a party of his own within the limits of the ancient baronyof Avenel, added not a little to the audacity and decisive tone of acharacter, which was by nature bold, impetuous, and incontrollable.

  Of the two members of the household who had manifested an early jealousyof Roland Graeme, the prejudices of Wolf were easily overcome; and inprocess of time the noble dog slept with Bran, Luath, and the celebratedhounds of ancient days. But Mr. Warden, the chaplain, lived, andretained his dislike to the youth. That good man, single-minded andbenevolent as he really was, entertained rather more than a reasonableidea of the respect due to him as a minister, and exacted from theinhabitants of the castle more deference than the haughty young page,proud of his mistress's favour, and petulant from youth and situation,was at all times willing to pay. His bold and free demeanour, hisattachment to rich dress and decoration, his inaptitude to receiveinstruction, and his hardening himself against rebuke, werecircumstances which induced the good old man, with more haste thancharity, to set the forward page down as a vessel of wrath, and topresage that the youth nursed that pride and haughtiness of spirit whichgoes before ruin and destruction. On the other hand, Roland evincedat times a marked dislike, and even something like contempt, ofthe chaplain. Most of the attendants and followers of Sir HalbertGlendinning entertained the same charitable thoughts as the reverendMr. Warden; but while Roland was favoured by their lady, and endured bytheir lord, they saw no policy in making their opinions public.

  Roland Graeme was sufficiently sensible of the unpleasant situation inwhich he stood; but in the haughtiness of his heart he retorted upon theother domestics the distant, cold, and sarcastic manner in which theytreated him, assumed an air of superiority which compelled the mostobstinate to obedience, and had the satisfaction at least to be dreaded,if he was heartily hated.

  The chaplain's marked dislike had the effect of recommending him tothe attention of Sir Halbert's brother, Edward, who now, under theconventual appellation of Father Ambrose, continued to be one of thefew monks who, with the Abbot Eustatius, had, notwithstanding the nearlytotal downfall of their faith under the regency of Murray, been stillpermitted to linger in the cloisters at Kennaquhair. Respect to SirHalbert had prevented their being altogether driven out of the Abbey,though their order was now in a great measure suppressed, and they wereinterdicted the public exercise of their ritual, and only allowed fortheir support a small pension out of their once splendid revenues.Father Ambrose, thus situated, was an occasional, though very rarevisitant, at the Castle of Avenel, and was at such times observed to payparticular attention to Roland Graeme, who seemed to return it with moredepth of feeling than consisted with his usual habits.

  Thus situated, years glided on, during which the Knight of Avenelcontinued to act a frequent and important part in the convulsions of hisdistracted country; while young Graeme anticipated, both in wishes andpersonal accomplishments, the age which should enable him to emerge fromthe obscurity of his present situation.