The Abbot
Chapter the Fifth.
--In the wild storm, The seaman hews his mast down, and the merchant Heaves to the billows wares he once deem'd precious; So prince and peer, 'mid popular contentions, Cast off their favourites. OLD PLAY.
It was some time ere Roland Graeme appeared. The messenger (his oldfriend Lilias) had at first attempted to open the door of his littleapartment with the charitable purpose, doubtless, of enjoying theconfusion, and marking the demeanour of the culprit. But an oblong bitof iron, ycleped a bolt, was passed across the door on the inside, andprevented her benign intentions. Lilias knocked and called at intervals."Roland--Roland Graeme--_Master_ Roland Graeme" (an emphasis on the wordMaster,) "will you be pleased to undo the door?--What ails you?--areyou at your prayers in private, to complete the devotion which you leftunfinished in public?--Surely we must have a screened seat for you inthe chapel, that your gentility may be free from the eyes of commonfolks!" Still no whisper was heard in reply. "Well, master Roland," saidthe waiting-maid, "I must tell my mistress, that if she would have ananswer, she must either come herself, or send those on errand to you whocan beat the door down."
"What says your Lady?" answered the page from within.
"Marry, open the door, and you shall hear," answered the waiting-maid."I trow it becomes my Lady's message to be listened to face to face; andI will not for your idle pleasure, whistle it through a key-hole."
"Your mistress's name," said the page, opening the door, "is too fair acover for your impertinence--What says my Lady?"
"That you will be pleased to come to her directly, in thewithdrawing-room," answered Lilias. "I presume she has some directionsfor you concerning the forms to be observed in leaving chapel infuture."
"Say to my Lady, that I will directly wait on her," answered the page;and returning into his apartment, he once more locked the door in theface of the waiting-maid.
"Rare courtesy!" muttered Lilias; and, returning to her mistress,acquainted her that Roland Graeme would wait on her when it suited hisconvenience.
"What, is that his addition, or your own phrase, Lilias?" said the Lady,coolly.
"Nay, madam," replied the attendant, not directly answering thequestion, "he looked as if he could have said much more impertinentthings than that, if I had been willing to hear them.--But here he comesto answer for himself."
Roland Graeme entered the apartment with a loftier mien, and somewhat ahigher colour than his wont; there was embarrassment in his manner, butit was neither that of fear nor of penitence.
"Young man," said the Lady, "what trow you I am to think of your conductthis day?"
"If it has offended you, madam, I am deeply grieved," replied the youth.
"To have offended me alone," replied the Lady, "were but little--Youhave been guilty of conduct which will highly offend your master--ofviolence to your fellow-servants, and of disrespect to God himself, inthe person of his ambassador."
"Permit me again to reply," said the page, "that if I have offendedmy only mistress, friend, and benefactress, it includes the sum of myguilt, and deserves the sum of my penitence--Sir Halbert Glendinningcalls me not servant, nor do I call him master--he is not entitled toblame me for chastising an insolent groom--nor do I fear the wrathof Heaven for treating with scorn the unauthorized interference of ameddling preacher."
The Lady of Avenel had before this seen symptoms in her favourite ofboyish petulance, and of impatience of censure or reproof. But hispresent demeanour was of a graver and more determined character, and shewas for a moment at a loss how she should treat the youth, who seemed tohave at once assumed the character not only of a man, but of a bold anddetermined one. She paused an instant, and then assuming the dignitywhich was natural to her, she said, "Is it to me, Roland, that you holdthis language? Is it for the purpose of making me repent the favour Ihave shown you, that you declare yourself independent both of an earthlyand a Heavenly master? Have you forgotten what you were, and to what theloss of my protection would speedily again reduce you?"
"Lady," said the page, "I have forgot nothing, I remember but too much.I know, that but for you, I should have perished in yon blue waves,"pointing, as he spoke, to the lake, which was seen through thewindow, agitated by the western wind. "Your goodness has gone farther,madam--you have protected me against the malice of others, and againstmy own folly. You are free, if you are willing, to abandon the orphanyou have reared. You have left nothing undone by him, and he complainsof nothing. And yet, Lady, do not think I have been ungrateful--I haveendured something on my part, which I would have borne for the sake ofno one but my benefactress."
"For my sake!" said the Lady; "and what is it that I can have subjectedyou to endure, which can be remembered with other feelings than those ofthanks and gratitude?"
"You are too just, madam, to require me to be thankful for the coldneglect with which your husband has uniformly treated me--neglect notunmingled with fixed aversion. You are too just, madam, to require meto be grateful for the constant and unceasing marks of scorn andmalevolence with which I have been treated by others, or for such ahomily as that with which your reverend chaplain has, at my expense,this very day regaled the assembled household."
"Heard mortal ears the like of this!" said the waiting-maid, with herhands expanded and her eyes turned up to heaven; "he speaks as if hewere son of an earl, or of a belted knight the least penny!"
The page glanced on her a look of supreme contempt, but vouchsafedno other answer. His mistress, who began to feel herself seriouslyoffended, and yet sorry for the youth's folly, took up the same tone.
"Indeed, Roland, you forget yourself so strangely," said she, "that youwill tempt me to take serious measures to lower you in your own opinionby reducing you to your proper station in society."
"And that," added Lilias, "would be best done by turning him out thesame beggar's brat that your ladyship took him in."
"Lilias speaks too rudely," continued the Lady, "but she has spoken thetruth, young man; nor do I think I ought to spare that pride whichhath so completely turned your head. You have been tricked up with finegarments, and treated like the son of a gentleman, until you have forgotthe fountain of your churlish blood."
"Craving your pardon, most honourable madam, Lilias hath _not_ spokentruth, nor does your ladyship know aught of my descent, which shouldentitle you to treat it with such decided scorn. I am no beggar'sbrat--my grandmother begged from no one, here nor elsewhere--she wouldhave perished sooner on the bare moor. We were harried out and drivenfrom our home--a chance which has happed elsewhere, and to others.Avenel Castle, with its lake and its towers, was not at all times ableto protect its inhabitants from want and desolation."
"Hear but his assurance!" said Lilias, "he upbraids my Lady with thedistresses of her family!"
"It had indeed been a theme more gratefully spared," said the Lady,affected nevertheless with the allusion.
"It was necessary, madam, for my vindication," said the page, "or Ihad not even hinted at a word that might give you pain. But believe,honoured Lady, I am of no churl's blood. My proper descent I know not;but my only relation has said, and my heart has echoed it back andattested the truth, that I am sprung of gentle blood, and deserve gentleusage."
"And upon an assurance so vague as this," said the Lady, "do you proposeto expect all the regard, all the privileges, befitting high rank anddistinguished birth, and become a contender for concessions which areonly due to the noble? Go to, sir, know yourself, or the master ofthe household shall make you know you are liable to the scourge as amalapert boy. You have tasted too little the discipline fit for your ageand station."
"The master of the household shall taste of my dagger, ere I taste ofhis discipline," said the page, giving way to his restrained passion."Lady, I have been too long the vassal of a pantoufle, and the slaveof a silver whistle. You must henceforth find some other to answer yourcall; and let him be of birth and spirit mean enough to brook the scornof your menials, and
to call a church vassal his master."
"I have deserved this insult," said the Lady, colouring deeply, "forso long enduring and fostering your petulance. Begone, sir. Leave thiscastle to-night--I will send you the means of subsistence till you findsome honest mode of support, though I fear your imaginary grandeur willbe above all others, save those of rapine and violence. Begone, sir, andsee my face no more."
The page threw himself at her feet in an agony of sorrow. "My dearand honoured mistress," he said, but was unable to bring out anothersyllable.
"Arise, sir," said the Lady, "and let go my mantle--hypocrisy is a poorcloak for ingratitude."
"I am incapable of either, madam," said the page, springing up with thehasty start of passion which belonged to his rapid and impetuous temper."Think not I meant to implore permission to reside here; it has beenlong my determination to leave Avenel, and I will never forgive myselffor having permitted you to say the word begone, ere I said, 'I leaveyou.' I did but kneel to ask your forgiveness for an ill-considered wordused in the height of displeasure, but which ill became my mouth,as addressed to you. Other grace I asked not--you have done much forme--but I repeat, that you better know what you yourself have done, thanwhat I have suffered."
"Roland," said the Lady, somewhat appeased, and relenting towards herfavourite, "you had me to appeal to when you were aggrieved. You wereneither called upon to suffer wrong, nor entitled to resent it, when youwere under my protection."
"And what," said the youth, "if I sustained wrong from those you lovedand favoured, was I to disturb your peace with idle tale-bearings andeternal complaints? No, madam; I have borne my own burden in silence,and without disturbing you with murmurs; and the respect with whichyou accuse me of wanting, furnishes the only reason why I have neitherappealed to you, nor taken vengeance at my own hand in a manner far moreeffectual. It is well, however, that we part. I was not born to be astipendiary, favoured by his mistress, until ruined by the calumniesof others. May Heaven multiply its choicest blessings on your honouredhead; and, for your sake, upon all that are dear to you!"
He was about to leave the apartment, when the Lady called upon him toreturn. He stood still, while she thus addressed him: "It was not myintention, nor would it be just, even in the height of my displeasure,to dismiss you without the means of support; take this purse of gold."
"Forgive me, Lady," said the boy, "and let me go hence with theconsciousness that I have not been degraded to the point of acceptingalms. If my poor services can be placed against the expense of myapparel and my maintenance, I only remain debtor to you for my life, andthat alone is a debt which I can never repay; put up then that purse,and only say, instead, that you do not part from me in anger."
"No, not in anger," said the Lady, "in sorrow rather for yourwilfulness; but take the gold, you cannot but need it."
"May God evermore bless you for the kind tone and the kind word! but thegold I cannot take. I am able of body, and do not lack friends so whollyas you may think; for the time may come that I may yet show myself morethankful than by mere words." He threw himself on his knees, kissed thehand which she did not withdraw, and then, hastily left the apartment.
Lilias, for a moment or two, kept her eye fixed on her mistress, wholooked so unusually pale, that she seemed about to faint; but the Ladyinstantly recovered herself, and declining the assistance which herattendant offered her, walked to her own apartment.