CHAPTER XXXII.
In winter's tedious nights, sit by the fire, With good old folks, and let them tell thee tales Of woeful ages, long ago betid: And, ere thou bid goodnight, to quit their grief, Tell thou the lamentable fall of me.
King Richard II Act V. Scene I.
Far different had been the fate of the misguided heir of Scotland fromthat which was publicly given out in the town of Falkland. His ambitiousuncle had determined on his death, as the means of removing the firstand most formidable barrier betwixt his own family and the throne.James, the younger son of the King, was a mere boy, who might at moreleisure be easily set aside. Ramorny's views of aggrandisement, and theresentment which he had latterly entertained against his masters madehim a willing agent in young Rothsay's destruction. Dwining's love ofgold, and his native malignity of disposition, rendered him equallyforward. It had been resolved, with the most calculating cruelty,that all means which might leave behind marks of violence were to becarefully avoided, and the extinction of life suffered to take placeof itself by privation of every kind acting upon a frail and impairedconstitution. The Prince of Scotland was not to be murdered, as Ramornyhad expressed himself on another occasion, he was only to cease toexist. Rothsay's bedchamber in the Tower of Falkland was well adaptedfor the execution of such a horrible project. A small, narrow staircase,scarce known to exist, opened from thence by a trapdoor to thesubterranean dungeons of the castle, through a passage by whichthe feudal lord was wont to visit, in private and in disguise, theinhabitants of those miserable regions. By this staircase the villainsconveyed the insensible Prince to the lowest dungeon of the castle,so deep in the bowels of the earth, that no cries or groans, it wassupposed, could possibly be heard, while the strength of its door andfastenings must for a long time have defied force, even if the entrancecould have been discovered. Bonthron, who had been saved from thegallows for the purpose, was the willing agent of Ramorny's unparalleledcruelty to his misled and betrayed patron.
This wretch revisited the dungeon at the time when the Prince's lethargybegan to wear off, and when, awaking to sensation, he felt himselfdeadly cold, unable to move, and oppressed with fetters, which scarcepermitted him to stir from the dank straw on which he was laid. Hisfirst idea was that he was in a fearful dream, his next brought aconfused augury of the truth. He called, shouted, yelled at length infrenzy but no assistance came, and he was only answered by the vaultedroof of the dungeon. The agent of hell heard these agonizing screams,and deliberately reckoned them against the taunts and reproaches withwhich Rothsay had expressed his instinctive aversion to him. When,exhausted and hopeless, the unhappy youth remained silent, the savageresolved to present himself before the eyes of his prisoner. The lockswere drawn, the chain fell; the Prince raised himself as high as hisfetters permitted; a red glare, against which he was fain to shut hiseyes, streamed through the vault; and when he opened them again, it wason the ghastly form of one whom he had reason to think dead. He sunkback in horror.
"I am judged and condemned," he exclaimed, "and the most abhorred fiendin the infernal regions is sent to torment me!"
"I live, my lord," said Bonthron; "and that you may live and enjoy life,be pleased to sit up and eat your victuals."
"Free me from these irons," said the Prince, "release me from thisdungeon, and, dog as thou art, thou shalt be the richest man inScotland."
"If you would give me the weight of your shackles in gold," saidBonthron, "I would rather see the iron on you than have the treasuremyself! But look up; you were wont to love delicate fare--behold how Ihave catered for you."
The wretch, with fiendish glee, unfolded a piece of rawhide covering thebundle which he bore under' his arm, and, passing the light to and frobefore it, showed the unhappy Prince a bull's head recently hewn fromthe trunk, and known in Scotland as the certain signal of death. Heplaced it at the foot of the bed, or rather lair, on which the Princelay.
"Be moderate in your food," he said; "it is like to be long ere thougetst another meal."
"Tell me but one thing, wretch," said the Prince. "Does Ramorny know ofthis practice?"
"How else hadst thou been decoyed hither? Poor woodcock, thou artsnared!" answered the murderer.
With these words, the door shut, the bolts resounded, and the unhappyPrince was left to darkness, solitude, and misery. "Oh, my father!--myprophetic father! The staff I leaned on has indeed proved a spear!"
We will not dwell on the subsequent hours, nay, days, of bodily agonyand mental despair.
But it was not the pleasure of Heaven that so great a crime should beperpetrated with impunity.
Catharine Glover and the glee woman, neglected by the other inmates,who seemed to be engaged with the tidings of the Prince's illness, were,however, refused permission to leave the castle until it should be seenhow this alarming disease was to terminate, and whether it was actuallyan infectious sickness. Forced on each other's society, the two desolatewomen became companions, if not friends; and the union drew somewhatcloser when Catharine discovered that this was the same female minstrelon whose account Henry Wynd had fallen under her displeasure. She nowheard his complete vindication, and listened with ardour to the praiseswhich Louise heaped on her gallant protector. On the other hand, theminstrel, who felt the superiority of Catharine's station and character,willingly dwelt upon a theme which seemed to please her, and recordedher gratitude to the stout smith in the little song of "Bold and True,"which was long a favourite in Scotland.
Oh, bold and true, In bonnet blue, That fear or falsehood never knew, Whose heart was loyal to his word, Whose hand was faithful to his sword-- Seek Europe wide from sea to sea, But bonny blue cap still for me!
I've seen Almain's proud champions prance, Have seen the gallant knights of France, Unrivall'd with the sword and lance, Have seen the sons of England true, Wield the brown bill and bend the yew. Search France the fair, and England free, But bonny blue cap still for me!
In short, though Louise's disreputable occupation would have been inother circumstances an objection to Catharine's voluntarily frequentingher company, yet, forced together as they now were, she found her ahumble and accommodating companion.
They lived in this manner for four or five days, and, in order to avoidas much as possible the gaze, and perhaps the incivility, of the menialsin the offices, they prepared their food in their own apartment. In theabsolutely necessary intercourse with domestics, Louise, more accustomedto expedients, bolder by habit, and desirous to please Catharine,willingly took on herself the trouble of getting from the pantler thematerials of their slender meal, and of arranging it with the dexterityof her country.
The glee woman had been abroad for this purpose upon the sixth day, alittle before noon; and the desire of fresh air, or the hope to findsome sallad or pot herbs, or at least an early flower or two, with whichto deck their board, had carried her into the small garden appertainingto the castle. She re-entered her apartment in the tower with acountenance pale as ashes, and a frame which trembled like an aspenleaf. Her terror instantly extended itself to Catharine, who couldhardly find words to ask what new misfortune had occurred.
"Is the Duke of Rothsay dead?"
"Worse! they are starving him alive."
"Madness, woman!"
"No--no--no--no!" said Louise, speaking under her breath, and huddlingher words so thick upon each other that Catharine could hardly catchthe sense. "I was seeking for flowers to dress your pottage, becauseyou said you loved them yesterday; my poor little dog, thrusting himselfinto a thicket of yew and holly bushes that grow out of some old ruinsclose to the castle wall, came back whining and howling. I crept forwardto see what might be the cause--and, oh! I heard a groaning as of onein extreme pain, but so faint, that it seemed to arise out of the verydepth of the earth. At length, I found it proceeded from a small rent inthe wall, covered with ivy; and when I laid my ear close to the opening,I could hear the Prince's voice dis
tinctly say, 'It cannot now lastlong'--and then it sunk away in something like a prayer."
"Gracious Heaven! did you speak to him?"
"I said, 'Is it you, my lord?' and the answer was, 'Who mocks me withthat title?' I asked him if I could help him, and he answered with avoice I shall never forget, 'Food--food! I die of famine!' So I camehither to tell you. What is to be done? Shall we alarm the house?"
"Alas! that were more likely to destroy than to aid," said Catharine.
"And what then shall we do?" said Louise.
"I know not yet," said Catharine, prompt and bold on occasions ofmoment, though yielding to her companion in ingenuity of resource onordinary occasions: "I know not yet, but something we will do: the bloodof Bruce shall not die unaided."
So saying, she seized the small cruise which contained their soup, andthe meat of which it was made, wrapped some thin cakes which she hadbaked into the fold of her plaid, and, beckoning her companion to followwith a vessel of milk, also part of their provisions, she hastenedtowards the garden.
"So, our fair vestal is stirring abroad?" said the only man she met, whowas one of the menials; but Catharine passed on without notice or reply,and gained the little garden without farther interruption.
Louise indicated to her a heap of ruins, which, covered with underwood,was close to the castle wall. It had probably been originally aprojection from the building; and the small fissure, which communicatedwith the dungeon, contrived for air, had terminated within it. But theaperture had been a little enlarged by decay, and admitted a dim ray oflight to its recesses, although it could not be observed by those whovisited the place with torchlight aids.
"Here is dead silence," said Catharine, after she had listenedattentively for a moment. "Heaven and earth, he is gone!"
"We must risk something," said her companion, and ran her fingers overthe strings of her guitar.
A sigh was the only answer from the depth of the dungeon. Catharine thenventured to speak. "I am here, my lord--I am here, with food and drink."
"Ha! Ramorny! The jest comes too late; I am dying," was the answer.
"His brain is turned, and no wonder," thought Catharine; "but whilstthere is life, there may be hope."
"It is I, my lord, Catharine Glover. I have food, if I could pass itsafely to you."
"Heaven bless thee, maiden! I thought the pain was over, but it glowsagain within me at the name of food."
"The food is here, but how--ah, how can I pass it to you? the chinkis so narrow, the wall is so thick! Yet there is a remedy--I have it.Quick, Louise; cut me a willow bough, the tallest you can find."
The glee maiden obeyed, and, by means of a cleft in the top of thewand, Catharine transmitted several morsels of the soft cakes, soaked inbroth, which served at once for food and for drink.
The unfortunate young man ate little, and with difficulty, but prayedfor a thousand blessings on the head of his comforter. "I had destinedthee to be the slave of my vices," he said, "and yet thou triest tobecome the preserver of my life! But away, and save thyself."
"I will return with food as I shall see opportunity," said Catharine,just as the glee maiden plucked her sleeve and desired her to be silentand stand close.
Both crouched among the ruins, and they heard the voices of Ramorny andthe mediciner in close conversation.
"He is stronger than I thought," said the former, in a low, croakingtone. "How long held out Dalwolsy, when the knight of Liddesdaleprisoned him in his castle of Hermitage?"
"For a fortnight," answered Dwining; "but he was a strong man, and hadsome assistance by grain which fell from a granary above his prisonhouse."
"Were it not better end the matter more speedily? The Black Douglascomes this way. He is not in Albany's secret. He will demand to see thePrince, and all must be over ere he comes."
They passed on in their dark and fatal conversation.
"Now gain we the tower," said Catharine to her companion, when she sawthey had left the garden. "I had a plan of escape for myself; I willturn it into one of rescue for the Prince. The dey woman enters thecastle about vesper time, and usually leaves her cloak in the passage asshe goes into the pantlers' office with the milk. Take thou the cloak,muffle thyself close, and pass the warder boldly; he is usually drunkenat that hour, and thou wilt go as the dey woman unchallenged throughgate and along bridge, if thou bear thyself with confidence. Then awayto meet the Black Douglas; he is our nearest and only aid."
"But," said Louise, "is he not that terrible lord who threatened me withshame and punishment?"
"Believe it," said Catharine, "such as thou or I never dwelt an hour inthe Douglas's memory, either for good or evil. Tell him that his son inlaw, the Prince of Scotland dies--treacherously famished--in FalklandCastle, and thou wilt merit not pardon only, but reward."
"I care not for reward," said Louise; "the deed will reward itself. Butmethinks to stay is more dangerous than to go. Let me stay, then, andnourish the unhappy Prince, and do you depart to bring help. If theykill me before you return, I leave you my poor lute, and pray you to bekind to my poor Charlot."
"No, Louise," replied Catharine, "you are a more privileged andexperienced wanderer than I--do you go; and if you find me dead on yourreturn, as may well chance, give my poor father this ring and a lock ofmy hair, and say, Catharine died in endeavouring to save the blood ofBruce. And give this other lock to Henry; say, Catharine thought of himto the last, and that, if he has judged her too scrupulous touching theblood of others, he will then know it was not because she valued herown."
They sobbed in each other's arms, and the intervening hours till eveningwere spent in endeavouring to devise some better mode of supplying thecaptive with nourishment, and in the construction of a tube, composedof hollow reeds, slipping into each other, by which liquids might beconveyed to him. The bell of the village church of Falkland tolled tovespers. The dey, or farm woman, entered with her pitchers to deliverthe milk for the family, and to hear and tell the news stirring. She hadscarcely entered the kitchen when the female minstrel, again throwingherself in Catharine's arms, and assuring her of her unalterablefidelity, crept in silence downstairs, the little dog under her arm. Amoment after, she was seen by the breathless Catharine, wrapt in the deywoman's cloak, and walking composedly across the drawbridge.
"So," said the warder, "you return early tonight, May Bridget? Smallmirth towards in the hall--ha, wench! Sick times are sad times!"
"I have forgotten my tallies," said the ready witted French woman, "andwill return in the skimming of a bowie."
She went onward, avoiding the village of Falkland, and took a footpathwhich led through the park. Catharine breathed freely, and blessed Godwhen she saw her lost in the distance. It was another anxious hourfor Catharine which occurred before the escape of the fugitive wasdiscovered. This happened so soon as the dey girl, having taken an hourto perform a task which ten minutes might have accomplished, was aboutto return, and discovered that some one had taken away her grey friezecloak. A strict search was set on foot; at length the women of thehouse remembered the glee maiden, and ventured to suggest her as one notunlikely to exchange an old cloak for a new one. The warder, strictlyquestioned, averred he saw the dey woman depart immediately aftervespers; and on this being contradicted by the party herself, he couldsuggest, as the only alternative, that it must needs have been thedevil.
As, however, the glee woman could not be found, the real circumstancesof the case were easily guessed at; and the steward went to inform SirJohn Ramorny and Dwining, who were now scarcely ever separate, ofthe escape of one of their female captives. Everything awakens thesuspicions of the guilty. They looked on each other with faces ofdismay, and then went together to the humble apartment of Catharine,that they might take her as much as possible by surprise while theyinquired into the facts attending Louise's disappearance.
"Where is your companion, young woman?" said Ramorny, in a tone ofaustere gravity.
"I have no companion here," answered Catharine.
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"Trifle not," replied the knight; "I mean the glee maiden, who latelydwelt in this chamber with you."
"She is gone, they tell me," said Catharine--"gone about an hour since."
"And whither?" said Dwining.
"How," answered Catharine, "should I know which way a professed wanderermay choose to travel? She was tired no doubt of a solitary life, sodifferent from the scenes of feasting and dancing which her trade leadsher to frequent. She is gone, and the only wonder is that she shouldhave stayed so long."
"This, then," said Ramorny, "is all you have to tell us?"
"All that I have to tell you, Sir John," answered Catharine, firmly;"and if the Prince himself inquire, I can tell him no more."
"There is little danger of his again doing you the honour to speak toyou in person," said Ramorny, "even if Scotland should escape beingrendered miserable by the sad event of his decease."
"Is the Duke of Rothsay so very ill?" asked Catharine.
"No help, save in Heaven," answered Ramorny, looking upward.
"Then may there yet be help there," said Catharine, "if human aid proveunavailing!"
"Amen!" said Ramorny, with the most determined gravity; while Dwiningadopted a face fit to echo the feeling, though it seemed to cost hima painful struggle to suppress his sneering yet soft laugh of triumph,which was peculiarly excited by anything having a religious tendency.
"And it is men--earthly men, and not incarnate devils, who thus appealto Heaven, while they are devouring by inches the life blood of theirhapless master!" muttered Catharine, as her two baffled inquisitors leftthe apartment. "Why sleeps the thunder? But it will roll ere long, andoh! may it be to preserve as well as to punish!"
The hour of dinner alone afforded a space when, all in the castle beingoccupied with that meal, Catharine thought she had the best opportunityof venturing to the breach in the wall, with the least chance of beingobserved. In waiting for the hour, she observed some stir in the castle,which had been silent as the grave ever since the seclusion of the Dukeof Rothsay. The portcullis was lowered and raised, and the creaking ofthe machinery was intermingled with the tramp of horse, as men at armswent out and returned with steeds hard ridden and covered with foam. Sheobserved, too, that such domestics as she casually saw from her windowwere in arms. All this made her heart throb high, for it augured theapproach of rescue; and besides, the bustle left the little garden morelonely than ever. At length the hour of noon arrived; she had taken careto provide, under pretence of her own wishes, which the pantler seemeddisposed to indulge, such articles of food as could be the most easilyconveyed to the unhappy captive. She whispered to intimate her presence;there was no answer; she spoke louder, still there was silence.
"He sleeps," she muttered these words half aloud, and with a shudderingwhich was succeeded by a start and a scream, when a voice replied behindher:
"Yes, he sleeps; but it is for ever."
She looked round. Sir John Ramorny stood behind her in complete armour,but the visor of his helmet was up, and displayed a countenance moreresembling one about to die than to fight. He spoke with a grave tone,something between that of a calm observer of an interesting event and ofone who is an agent and partaker in it.
"Catharine," he said, "all is true which I tell you. He is dead. Youhave done your best for him; you can do no more."
"I will not--I cannot believe it," said Catharine. "Heaven be mercifulto me! it would make one doubt of Providence, to think so great a crimehas been accomplished."
"Doubt not of Providence, Catharine, though it has suffered theprofligate to fall by his own devices. Follow me; I have that to saywhich concerns you. I say follow (for she hesitated), unless you preferbeing left to the mercies of the brute Bonthron and the medicinerHenbane Dwining."
"I will follow you," said Catharine. "You cannot do more to me than youare permitted."
He led the way into the tower, and mounted staircase after staircase andladder after ladder.
Catharine's resolution failed her. "I will follow no farther," she said."Whither would you lead me? If to my death, I can die here."
"Only to the battlements of the castle, fool," said Ramorny, throwingwide a barred door which opened upon the vaulted roof of the castle,where men were bending mangonels, as they called them (military engines,that is, for throwing arrows or stones), getting ready crossbows, andpiling stones together. But the defenders did not exceed twenty innumber, and Catharine thought she could observe doubt and irresolutionamongst them.
"Catharine," said Ramorny, "I must not quit this station, which isnecessary for my defence; but I can speak with you here as well aselsewhere."
"Say on," answered Catharine, "I am prepared to hear you."
"You have thrust yourself, Catharine, into a bloody secret. Have you thefirmness to keep it?"
"I do not understand you, Sir John," answered the maiden.
"Look you. I have slain--murdered, if you will--my late master, the Dukeof Rothsay. The spark of life which your kindness would have fedwas easily smothered. His last words called on his father. You arefaint--bear up--you have more to hear. You know the crime, but you knownot the provocation. See! this gauntlet is empty; I lost my right handin his cause, and when I was no longer fit to serve him, I was cast offlike a worn out hound, my loss ridiculed, and a cloister recommended,instead of the halls and palaces in which I had my natural sphere! Thinkon this--pity and assist me."
"In what manner can you require my assistance?" said the tremblingmaiden; "I can neither repair your loss nor cancel your crime."
"Thou canst be silent, Catharine, on what thou hast seen and heard inyonder thicket. It is but a brief oblivion I ask of you, whose wordwill, I know, be listened to, whether you say such things were or werenot. That of your mountebank companion, the foreigner, none will holdto be of a pin point's value. If you grant me this, I will take yourpromise for my security, and throw the gate open to those who nowapproach it. If you will not promise silence, I defend this castle tillevery one perishes, and I fling you headlong from these battlements.Ay, look at them--it is not a leap to be rashly braved. Seven courses ofstairs brought you up hither with fatigue and shortened breath; but youshall go from the top to the bottom in briefer time than you can breathea sigh! Speak the word, fair maid; for you speak to one unwilling toharm you, but determined in his purpose."
Catharine stood terrified, and without power of answering a man whoseemed so desperate; but she was saved the necessity of reply by theapproach of Dwining. He spoke with the same humble conges which at alltimes distinguished his manner, and with his usual suppressed ironicalsneer, which gave that manner the lie.
"I do you wrong, noble sir, to intrude on your valiancie when engagedwith a fair damsel. But I come to ask a trifling question."
"Speak, tormentor!" said Ramorny; "ill news are sport to thee even whenthey affect thyself, so that they concern others also."
"Hem!--he, he!--I only desired to know if your knighthood proposed thechivalrous task of defending the castle with your single hand--I cravepardon, I meant your single arm? The question is worth asking, for Iam good for little to aid the defence, unless you could prevail on thebesiegers to take physic--he, he, he!--and Bonthron is as drunk as aleand strong waters can make him; and you, he, and I make up the wholegarrison who are disposed for resistance."
"How! Will the other dogs not fight?" said Ramorny.
"Never saw men who showed less stomach to the work," answeredDwining--"never. But here come a brace of them. Venit extrema dies. He,he, he!"
Eviot and his companion Buncle now approached, with sullen resolutionin their faces, like men who had made their minds up to resist thatauthority which they had so long obeyed.
"How now!" said Ramorny, stepping forward to meet them. "Wherefore fromyour posts? Why have you left the barbican, Eviot? And you other fellow,did I not charge you to look to the mangonels?"
"We have something to tell you, Sir John Ramorny," answered Eviot. "Wewill not fight in this quarrel." r />
"How--my own squires control me?" exclaimed Ramorny.
"We were your squires and pages, my lord, while you were master of theDuke of Rothsay's household. It is bruited about the Duke no longerlives; we desire to know the truth."
"What traitor dares spread such falsehoods?" said Ramorny.
"All who have gone out to skirt the forest, my lord, and I myself amongothers, bring back the same news. The minstrel woman who left the castleyesterday has spread the report everywhere that the Duke of Rothsayis murdered, or at death's door. The Douglas comes on us with a strongforce--"
"And you, cowards, take advantage of an idle report to forsake yourmaster?" said Ramorny, indignantly.
"My lord," said Eviot, "let Buncle and myself see the Duke of Rothsay,and receive his personal orders for defence of this castle, and if we donot fight to the death in that quarrel, I will consent to be hanged onits highest turret. But if he be gone by natural disease, we will yieldup the castle to the Earl of Douglas, who is, they say, the King'slieutenant. Or if--which Heaven forefend!--the noble Prince has hadfoul play, we will not involve ourselves in the guilt of using arms indefence of the murderers, be they who they will."
"Eviot," said Ramorny, raising his mutilated arm, "had not that glovebeen empty, thou hadst not lived to utter two words of this insolence."
"It is as it is," answered Evict, "and we do but our duty. I havefollowed you long, my lord, but here I draw bridle."
"Farewell, then, and a curse light on all of you!" exclaimed theincensed baron. "Let my horse be brought forth!"
"Our valiancie is about to run away," said the mediciner, who had creptclose to Catharine's side before she was aware. "Catharine, thou art asuperstitious fool, like most women; nevertheless thou hast some mind,and I speak to thee as one of more understanding than the buffaloeswhich are herding about us. These haughty barons who overstride theworld, what are they in the day of adversity? Chaff before the wind. Lettheir sledge hammer hands or their column resembling legs have injury,and bah! the men at arms are gone. Heart and courage is nothing tothem, lith and limb everything: give them animal strength, what are theybetter than furious bulls; take that away, and your hero of chivalrylies grovelling like the brute when he is hamstrung. Not so the sage;while a grain of sense remains in a crushed or mutilated frame, his mindshall be strong as ever. Catharine, this morning I was practising yourdeath; but methinks I now rejoice that you may survive to tell how thepoor mediciner, the pill gilder, the mortar pounder, the poison vender,met his fate, in company with the gallant Knight of Ramorny, Baron inpossession and Earl of Lindores in expectation--God save his lordship!"
"Old man," said Catharine, "if thou be indeed so near the day of thydeserved doom, other thoughts were far wholesomer than the vaingloriousravings of a vain philosophy. Ask to see a holy man--"
"Yes," said Dwining, scornfully, "refer myself to a greasy monk, whodoes not--he! he! he!--understand the barbarous Latin he repeats byrote. Such would be a fitting counsellor to one who has studied bothin Spain and Arabia! No, Catharine, I will choose a confessor that ispleasant to look upon, and you shall be honoured with the office. Now,look yonder at his valiancie, his eyebrow drops with moisture, his liptrembles with agony; for his valiancie--he! he! he!--is pleading for hislife with his late domestics, and has not eloquence enough to persuadethem to let him slip. See how the fibres of his face work as he imploresthe ungrateful brutes, whom he has heaped with obligations, to permithim to get such a start for his life as the hare has from the greyhoundswhen men course her fairly. Look also at the sullen, downcast, doggedfaces with which, fluctuating between fear and shame, the domestictraitors deny their lord this poor chance for his life. These thingsthought themselves the superior of a man like me! and you, foolishwench, think so meanly of your Deity as to suppose wretches like themare the work of Omnipotence!"
"No! man of evil--no!" said Catharine, warmly; "the God I worshipcreated these men with the attributes to know and adore Him, to guardand defend their fellow creatures, to practise holiness and virtue.Their own vices, and the temptations of the Evil One, have made themsuch as they now are. Oh, take the lesson home to thine own heart ofadamant! Heaven made thee wiser than thy fellows, gave thee eyes to lookinto the secrets of nature, a sagacious heart, and a skilful hand; butthy pride has poisoned all these fair gifts, and made an ungodly atheistof one who might have been a Christian sage!"
"Atheist, say'st thou?" answered Dwining. "Perhaps I have doubts on thatmatter--but they will be soon solved. Yonder comes one who will sendme, as he has done thousands, to the place where all mysteries shall becleared."
Catharine followed the mediciner's eye up one of the forest glades, andbeheld it occupied by a body of horsemen advancing at full gallop. Inthe midst was a pennon displayed, which, though its bearings were notvisible to Catharine, was, by a murmur around, acknowledged as that ofthe Black Douglas. They halted within arrow shot of the castle, and aherald with two trumpets advanced up to the main portal, where, after aloud flourish, he demanded admittance for the high and dreaded ArchibaldEarl of Douglas, Lord Lieutenant of the King, and acting for the timewith the plenary authority of his Majesty; commanding, at the same time,that the inmates of the castle should lay down their arms, all underpenalty of high treason.
"You hear?" said Eviot to Ramorny, who stood sullen and undecided. "Willyou give orders to render the castle, or must I?"
"No, villain!" interrupted the knight, "to the last I will command you.Open the gates, drop the bridge, and render the castle to the Douglas."
"Now, that's what may be called a gallant exertion of free will," saidDwining. "Just as if the pieces of brass that were screaming a minutesince should pretend to call those notes their own which are breathedthrough them by a frowsy trumpeter."
"Wretched man!" said Catharine, "either be silent or turn thy thoughtsto the eternity on the brink of which thou art standing."
"And what is that to thee?" answered Dwining. "Thou canst not, wench,help hearing what I say to thee, and thou wilt tell it again, for thysex cannot help that either. Perth and all Scotland shall know what aman they have lost in Henbane Dwining!"
The clash of armour now announced that the newcomers had dismounted andentered the castle, and were in the act of disarming the small garrison.Earl Douglas himself appeared on the battlements, with a few of hisfollowers, and signed to them to take Ramorny and Dwining into custody.Others dragged from some nook the stupefied Bonthron.
"It was to these three that the custody of the Prince was solelycommitted daring his alleged illness?" said the Douglas, prosecuting aninquiry which he had commenced in the hall of the castle.
"No other saw him, my lord," said Eviot, "though I offered my services."
"Conduct us to the Duke's apartment, and bring the prisoners withus. Also should there be a female in the castle, if she hath not beenmurdered or spirited away--the companion of the glee maiden who broughtthe first alarm."
"She is here, my lord," said Eviot, bringing Catharine forward.
Her beauty and her agitation made some impression even upon theimpassible Earl.
"Fear nothing, maiden," he said; "thou hast deserved both praise andreward. Tell to me, as thou wouldst confess to Heaven, the things thouhast witnessed in this castle."
Few words served Catharine to unfold the dreadful story.
"It agrees," said the Douglas, "with the tale of the glee maiden, frompoint to point. Now show us the Prince's apartment."
They passed to the room which the unhappy Duke of Rothsay had beensupposed to inhabit; but the key was not to be found, and the Earl couldonly obtain entrance by forcing the door. On entering, the wasted andsqualid remains of the unhappy Prince were discovered, flung on the bedas if in haste. The intention of the murderers had apparently been toarrange the dead body so as to resemble a timely parted corpse, but theyhad been disconcerted by the alarm occasioned by the escape of Louise.Douglas looked on the body of the misguided youth, whose wild passionsand caprices had brought
him to this fatal and premature catastrophe.
"I had wrongs to be redressed," he said; "but to see such a sight asthis banishes all remembrance of injury!"
"He! he! It should have been arranged," said Dwining, "more to youromnipotence's pleasure; but you came suddenly on us, and hasty mastersmake slovenly service."
Douglas seemed not to hear what his prisoner said, so closely did heexamine the wan and wasted features, and stiffened limbs, of the deadbody before him. Catharine, overcome by sickness and fainting, at lengthobtained permission to retire from the dreadful scene, and, throughconfusion of every description, found her way to her former apartment,where she was locked in the arms of Louise, who had returned in theinterval.
The investigations of Douglas proceeded. The dying hand of the Princewas found to be clenched upon a lock of hair, resembling, in colour andtexture, the coal black bristles of Bonthron. Thus, though famine hadbegun the work, it would seem that Rothsay's death had been finallyaccomplished by violence. The private stair to the dungeon, the keys ofwhich were found at the subaltern assassin's belt, the situation of thevault, its communication with the external air by the fissure in thewalls, and the wretched lair of straw, with the fetters which remainedthere, fully confirmed the story of Catharine and of the glee woman.
"We will not hesitate an instant," said the Douglas to his near kinsman,the Lord Balveny, as soon as they returned from the dungeon. "Away withthe murderers! hang them over the battlements."
"But, my lord, some trial may be fitting," answered Balveny.
"To what purpose?" answered, Douglas. "I have taken them red hand; myauthority will stretch to instant execution. Yet stay--have we not someJedwood men in our troop?"
"Plenty of Turnbulls, Rutherfords, Ainslies, and so forth," saidBalveny.
"Call me an inquest of these together; they are all good men and true,saving a little shifting for their living. Do you see to the executionof these felons, while I hold a court in the great hall, and we'll trywhether the jury or the provost marshal do their work first; we willhave Jedwood justice--hang in haste and try at leisure."
"Yet stay, my lord," said Ramorny, "you may rue your haste--will yougrant me a word out of earshot?"
"Not for worlds!" said Douglas; "speak out what thou hast to say beforeall that are here present."
"Know all; then," said Ramorny, aloud, "that this noble Earl had lettersfrom the Duke of Albany and myself, sent him by the hand of yon cowardlydeserter, Buncle--let him deny it if he dare--counselling the removalof the Duke for a space from court, and his seclusion in this Castle ofFalkland."
"But not a word," replied Douglas, sternly smiling, "of his being flunginto a dungeon--famished--strangled. Away with the wretches, Balveny,they pollute God's air too long!"
The prisoners were dragged off to the battlements. But while the meansof execution were in the act of being prepared, the apothecary expressedso ardent a desire to see Catharine once more, and, as he said, forthe good of his soul, that the maiden, in hopes his obduracy might haveundergone some change even at the last hour, consented again to goto the battlements, and face a scene which her heart recoiled from.A single glance showed her Bonthron, sunk in total and drunkeninsensibility; Ramorny, stripped of his armour, endeavouring in vain toconceal fear, while he spoke with a priest, whose good offices he hadsolicited; and Dwining, the same humble, obsequious looking, crouchingindividual she had always known him. He held in his hand a little silverpen, with which he had been writing on a scrap of parchment.
"Catharine," he said--"he, he, he!--I wish to speak to thee on thenature of my religious faith."
"If such be thy intention, why lose time with me? Speak with this goodfather."
"The good father," said Dwining, "is--he, he!--already a worshipper ofthe deity whom I have served. I therefore prefer to give the altar ofmine idol a new worshipper in thee, Catharine. This scrap of parchmentwill tell thee how to make your way into my chapel, where I haveworshipped so often in safety. I leave the images which it contains tothee as a legacy, simply because I hate and contemn thee something lessthan any of the absurd wretches whom I have hitherto been obliged tocall fellow creatures. And now away--or remain and see if the end of thequacksalver belies his life."
"Our Lady forbid!" said Catharine.
"Nay," said the mediciner, "I have but a single word to say, and yondernobleman's valiancie may hear it if he will."
Lord Balveny approached, with some curiosity; for the undauntedresolution of a man who never wielded sword or bore armour and was inperson a poor dwindled dwarf, had to him an air of something resemblingsorcery."
"You see this trifling implement," said the criminal, showing thesilver pen. "By means of this I can escape the power even of the BlackDouglas."
"Give him no ink nor paper," said Balveny, hastily, "he will draw aspell."
"Not so, please your wisdom and valiancie--he, he, he!" said Dwiningwith his usual chuckle, as he unscrewed the top of the pen, within whichwas a piece of sponge or some such substance, no bigger than a pea.
"Now, mark this--" said the prisoner, and drew it between his lips.The effect was instantaneous. He lay a dead corpse before them, thecontemptuous sneer still on his countenance.
Catharine shrieked and fled, seeking, by a hasty descent, an escape froma sight so appalling. Lord Balveny was for a moment stupified, and thenexclaimed, "This may be glamour! hang him over the battlements, quickor dead. If his foul spirit hath only withdrawn for a space, it shallreturn to a body with a dislocated neck."
His commands were obeyed. Ramorny and Bonthron were then ordered forexecution. The last was hanged before he seemed quite to comprehend whatwas designed to be done with him. Ramorny, pale as death, yet withthe same spirit of pride which had occasioned his ruin, pleaded hisknighthood, and demanded the privilege of dying by decapitation by thesword, and not by the noose.
"The Douglas never alters his doom," said Balveny. "But thou shalt haveall thy rights. Send the cook hither with a cleaver."
The menial whom he called appeared at his summons.
"What shakest thou for, fellow?" said Balveny; "here, strike me thisman's gilt spurs from his heels with thy cleaver. And now, John Ramorny,thou art no longer a knight, but a knave. To the halter with him,provost marshal! hang him betwixt his companions, and higher than themif it may be."
In a quarter of an hour afterwards, Balveny descended to tell theDouglas that the criminals were executed.
"Then there is no further use in the trial," said the Earl. "How sayyou, good men of inquest, were these men guilty of high treason--ay orno?"
"Guilty," exclaimed the obsequious inquest, with edifying unanimity, "weneed no farther evidence."
"Sound trumpets, and to horse then, with our own train only; and leteach man keep silence on what has chanced here, until the proceedingsshall be laid before the King, which cannot conveniently be till thebattle of Palm Sunday shall be fought and ended. Select our attendants,and tell each man who either goes with us or remains behind that he whoprates dies."
In a few minutes the Douglas was on horseback, with the followersselected to attend his person. Expresses were sent to his daughter, thewidowed Duchess of Rothsay, directing her to take her course to Perth,by the shores of Lochleven, without approaching Falkland, and committingto her charge Catharine Glover and the glee woman, as persons whosesafety he tendered.
As they rode through the forest, they looked back, and beheld the threebodies hanging, like specks darkening the walls of the old castle.
"The hand is punished," said Douglas, "but who shall arraign the head bywhose direction the act was done?"
"You mean the Duke of Albany?" said Balveny.
"I do, kinsman; and were I to listen to the dictates of my heart, Iwould charge him with the deed, which I am certain he has authorised.But there is no proof of it beyond strong suspicion, and Albany hasattached to himself the numerous friends of the house of Stuart, towhom, indeed, the imbecility of the King and the ill regulated habitsof
Rothsay left no other choice of a leader. Were I, therefore, to breakthe bond which I have so lately formed with Albany, the consequencemust be civil war, an event ruinous to poor Scotland while threatenedby invasion from the activity of the Percy, backed by the treacheryof March. No, Balveny, the punishment of Albany must rest with Heaven,which, in its own good time, will execute judgment on him and on hishouse."