CHAPTER THE EIGHTH.

  This interlude carried some confusion into the proceedings of the hunt,thus suddenly surprised by the apparition of Michael Turnbull, an armedand avowed follower of the House of Douglas, a sight so little to beexpected in the territory where his master was held a rebel and abandit, and where he himself must have been well known to most of thepeasantry present. The circumstance made an obvious impression on theEnglish chivalry. Sir John de Walton looked grave and thoughtful,ordered the hunters to be assembled on the spot, and directed hissoldiers to commence a strict search among the persons who had attendedthe chase, so as to discover whether Turnbull had any companions amongthem; but it was too late to make that enquiry in the strict fashionwhich De Walton directed.

  The Scottish attendants on the chase, when they beheld that thehunting, under pretence of which they were called together, wasinterrupted for the purpose of laying hands upon their persons, andsubjecting them to examination, took care to suit their answers to thequestions put to them; in a word, they kept their own secret, if theyhad any. Many of them, conscious of being the weaker party, becameafraid of foul play, slipt away from the places to which they had beenappointed, and left the hunting-match like men who conceived they hadbeen invited with no friendly intent. Sir John de Walton became awareof the decreasing numbers of the Scottish--their gradual disappearanceawakening in the English knight that degree of suspicion which had oflate become his peculiar characteristic.

  "Take, I pray thee," said he to Sir Aymer de Valence, "as manymen-at-arms as thou canst get together in five minutes' space, and atleast a hundred of the mounted archers, and ride as fast as thou canst,without permitting them to straggle from thy standard, to reinforce thegarrison of Douglas; for I have my own thoughts what may have beenattempted on the castle, when we observe with our own eyes such a nestof traitors here assembled."

  "With reverence, Sir John," replied Aymer, "you shoot in this matterrather beyond the mark. That the Scottish peasants have had badthoughts against us, I will be the last to deny; but, long debarredfrom any silvan sport, you cannot wonder at their crowding to anydiversion by wood or river, and still less at their being easilyalarmed as to the certainty of the safe footing on which they standwith us. The least rough usage is likely to strike them with fear, andwith the desire of escape, and so"--

  "And so," said Sir John de Walton, who had listened with a degree ofimpatience scarce consistent with the grave and formal politeness whichone knight was accustomed to bestow upon another, "and so I wouldrather see Sir Aymer de Valence busy his horse's heels to execute myorders, than give his tongue the trouble of impugning them."

  At this sharp reprimand, all present looked at each other withindications of marked displeasure. Sir Aymer was highly offended, butsaw it was no time to indulge in reprisal. He bowed until the featherwhich was in his barret-cap mingled with his horse's mane, and withoutreply--for he did not even choose to trust his voice in reply at themoment--headed a considerable body of cavalry by the straightest roadback to the Castle of Douglas.

  When he came to one of those eminences from which he could observe themassive and complicated towers and walls of the old fortress, with theglitter of the broad lake which surrounded it on three sides, he feltmuch pleasure at the sight of the great banner of England, whichstreamed from the highest part of the building. "I knew it," heinternally said; "I was certain that Sir John de Walton had become avery woman in the indulgence of his fears and suspicions. Alas! that asituation of responsibility should so much have altered a dispositionwhich I have known so noble and so knightly! By this good day, I scarceknow in what manner I should demean me when thus publicly rebukedbefore the garrison. Certainly he deserves that I should, at some timeor other, let him understand, that however he may triumph in theexercise of his short-lived command, yet, when man is to meet with man,it will puzzle Sir John de Walton to show himself the superior of Aymerde Valence, or perhaps to establish himself as his equal. But if, onthe contrary, his fears, however fantastic, are sincere at the momenthe expresses them, it becomes me to obey punctually commands which,however absurd, are imposed in consequence of the governor's beliefthat they are rendered necessary by the times, and not inventionsdesigned to vex and domineer over his officers in the indulgence of hisofficial powers. I would I knew which is the true statement of thecase, and whether the once famed De Walton is become afraid of hisenemies more than fits a knight, or makes imaginary doubts the pretextof tyrannizing over his friend. I cannot say it would make muchdifference to me, but I would rather have it that the man I once lovedhad turned a petty tyrant than a weak-spirited coward; and I would becontent that he should study to vex me, rather than be afraid of hisown shadow."

  With these ideas passing in his mind, the young knight crossed thecauseway which traversed the piece of water that fed the moat, and,passing under the strongly fortified gateway, gave strict orders forletting down the portcullis, and elevating the drawbridge, even at theappearance of De Walton's own standard before it.

  A slow and guarded movement from the hunting-ground to the Castle ofDouglas, gave the governor ample time to recover his temper, and toforget that his young friend had shown less alacrity than usual inobeying his commands. He was even disposed to treat as a jest thelength of time and extreme degree of ceremony with which every point ofmartial discipline was observed on his own re-admission to the castle,though the raw air of a wet spring evening whistled around his ownunsheltered person, and those of his followers, as they waited beforethe castle gate for the exchange of pass-words, the delivery of keys,and all the slow minutiae attendant upon the movements of a garrison ina well-guarded fortress.

  "Come," said he to an old knight, who was peevishly blaming thelieutenant-governor, "it was my own fault; I spoke but now to Aymer deValence with more authoritative emphasis than his newly-dubbed dignitywas pleased with, and this precise style of obedience is a piece of notunnatural and very pardonable revenge. Well, we will owe him a return,Sir Philip--shall we not? This is not a night to keep a man at thegate."

  This dialogue, overheard by some of the squires and pages, was bandiedabout from one to another, until it entirely lost the tone ofgood-humour in which it was spoken, and the offence was one for whichSir John de Walton and old Sir Philip were to meditate revenge, and wassaid to have been represented by the governor as a piece of mortal andintentional offence on the part of his subordinate officer.

  Thus an increasing feud went on from day to day between two warriors,who, with no just cause of quarrel, had at heart every reason to esteemand love each other. It became visible in the fortress even to those ofthe lower rank, who hoped to gain some consequence by intermingling inthe species of emulation produced by the jealousy of the commandingofficers--an emulation which may take place, indeed, in the presentday, but can hardly have the same sense of wounded pride and jealousdignity attached to it, which existed in times when the personal honourof knighthood rendered those who possessed it jealous of everypunctilio.

  So many little debates took place between the two knights, that SirAymer de Valence thought himself under the necessity of writing to hisuncle and namesake, the Earl of Pembroke, stating that his officer, SirJohn de Walton, had unfortunately of late taken some degree ofprejudice against him, and that after having borne with many provokinginstances of his displeasure, he was now compelled to request that hisplace of service should be changed from the Castle of Douglas, towherever honour could be acquired, and time might be given to put anend to his present cause of complaint against his commanding officer.Through the whole letter, young Sir Aymer was particularly cautious howhe expressed his sense of Sir John de Walton's jealousy or severeusage: but such sentiments are not easily concealed, and in spite ofhim an air of displeasure glanced out from several passages, andindicated his discontent with his uncle's old friend and companion inarms, and with the sphere of military duty which his uncle had himselfassigned him. An accidental movement among the English troops broughtSir Aymer an answer to his lett
er sooner than he could have hoped forat that time of day, in the ordinary course of correspondence, whichwas then extremely slow and interrupted.

  Pembroke, a rigid old warrior, entertained the most partial opinion ofSir John de Walton, who was a work as it were of his own hands, and wasindignant to find that his nephew, whom he considered as a mere boy,elated by having had the dignity of knighthood conferred upon him at anage unusually early, did not absolutely coincide with him in thisopinion. He replied to him, accordingly, in a tone of high displeasure,and expressed himself as a person of rank would write to a young anddependent kinsman upon the duties of his profession; and, as hegathered his nephew's cause of complaint from his own letter, heconceived that he did him no injustice in making it slighter than itreally was. He reminded the young man that the study of chivalryconsisted in the faithful and patient discharge of military service,whether of high or low degree, according to the circumstances in whichwar placed the champion. That above all, the post of danger, whichDouglas Castle had been termed by common consent, was also the post ofhonour; and that a young man should be cautious how he incurred thesupposition of being desirous of quitting his present honourablecommand, because he was tired of the discipline of a military directorso renowned as Sir John de Walton. Much also there was, as was naturalin a letter of that time, concerning the duty of young men, whether incouncil or in arms, to be guided implicitly by their elders; and it wasobserved, with justice, that the commanding officer, who had puthimself into the situation of being responsible with his honour, if nothis life, for the event of the siege or blockade, might, justly, and ina degree more than common, claim the implicit direction of the wholedefence. Lastly, Pembroke reminded his nephew that he was, in a greatmeasure, dependent upon the report of Sir John de Walton for thecharacter which he was to sustain in after life; and reminded him, thata few actions of headlong and inconsiderate valour would not so firmlyfound his military reputation, as months and years spent in regular,humble, and steady obedience to the commands which the governor ofDouglas Castle might think necessary in so dangerous a conjuncture.

  This missive arrived within so short a time after the despatch of theletter to which it was a reply, that Sir Aymer was almost tempted tosuppose that his uncle had some mode of corresponding with De Walton,unknown to the young knight himself, and to the rest of the garrison.And as the earl alluded to some particular displeasure which had beenexhibited by De Valence on a late trivial occasion, his uncle'sknowledge of this, and other minutiae, seemed to confirm his idea thathis own conduct was watched in a manner which he did not feelhonourable to himself, or dignified on the part of his relative; in aword, he conceived himself exposed to that sort of surveillance ofwhich, in all ages, the young have accused the old. It hardly needs tosay that the admonition of the Earl of Pembroke greatly chafed thefiery spirit of his nephew; insomuch, that if the earl had wished towrite a letter purposely to increase the prejudices which he desired toput an end to, he could not have made use of terms better calculatedfor that effect.

  The truth was, that the old archer, Gilbert Greenleaf, had, without theknowledge of the young knight, gone to Pembroke's camp, in Ayrshire,and was recommended by Sir John de Walton to the earl, as a person whocould give such minute information respecting Aymer de Valence, as hemight desire to receive. The old archer was, as we have seen, aformalist, and when pressed on some points of Sir Aymer de Valence'sdiscipline, he did not hesitate to throw out hints, which, connectedwith those in the knight's letter to his uncle, made the severe oldearl adopt too implicitly the idea that his nephew was indulging aspirit of insubordination, and a sense of impatience under authority,most dangerous to the character of a young soldier. A littleexplanation might have produced a complete agreement in the sentimentsof both; but for this, fate allowed neither time nor opportunity; andthe old earl was unfortunately induced to become a party, instead of anegotiator, in the quarrel,

  "And by decision more embroil'd the fray."

  Sir John de Walton soon perceived, that the receipt of Pembroke'sletter did not in any respect alter the cold ceremonious conduct of hislieutenant towards him, which limited their intercourse to what theirsituation rendered indispensable, and exhibited no advances to any morefrank or intimate connexion. Thus, as may sometimes be the case betweenofficers in their relative situations even at the present day, theyremained in that cold stiff degree of official communication, in whichtheir intercourse was limited to as few expressions as the respectiveduties of their situation absolutely demanded. Such a state ofmisunderstanding is, in fact, worse than a downright quarrel;--thelatter may be explained or apologized for, or become the subject ofmediation; but in such a case as the former, an _eclaircissement_ is asunlikely to take place as a general engagement between two armies whichhave taken up strong defensive positions on both sides. Duty, however,obliged the two principal persons in the garrison of Douglas Castle tobe often together, when they were so far from seeking an opportunity ofmaking up matters, that they usually revived ancient subjects of debate.

  It was upon such an occasion that De Walton, in a very formal manner,asked De Valence in what capacity, and for how long time, it was hispleasure that the minstrel, called Bertram, should remain at the castle.

  "A week," said the governor, "is certainly long enough, in this timeand place, to express the hospitality due to a minstrel."

  "Certainly," replied the young man, "I have not interest enough in thesubject to form a single wish upon it."

  "In that case," resumed De Walton, "I shall request of this person tocut short his visit at the Castle of Douglas."

  "I know no particular interest," replied Aymer de Valence, "which I canpossibly have in this man's motions. He is here under pretence ofmaking some researches after the writings of Thomas of Erceldoun,called the Rhymer, which he says are infinitely curious, and of whichthere is a volume in the old Baron's study, saved somehow from theflames at the last conflagration. This told, you know as much of hiserrand as I do; and if you hold the presence of a wandering old man,and the neighbourhood of a boy, dangerous to the castle under yourcharge, you will no doubt do well to dismiss them--it will cost but aword of your mouth."

  "Pardon me," said De Walton; "the minstrel came here as one of yourretinue, and I could not, in fitting courtesy, send him away withoutyour leave."

  "I am sorry, then," answered Sir Aymer, "in my turn, that you did notmention your purpose sooner. I never entertained a dependent, vassal orservant, whose residence in the castle I would wish to have prolonged amoment beyond your honourable pleasure."

  "I am sorry," said Sir John de Walton, "that we two have of late grownso extremely courteous that it is difficult for us to understand eachother. This minstrel and his son come from we know not where, and arebound we know not whither. There is a report among some of your escort,that this fellow Bertram upon the way had the audacity to impugn, evento your face, the King of England's right to the crown of Scotland, andthat he debated the point with you, while your other attendants weredesired by you to keep behind and out of hearing."

  "Hah!" said Sir Aymer, "do you mean to found on that circumstance anycharge against my loyalty? I pray you to observe, that such an avermentwould touch mine honour, which I am ready and willing to defend to thelast gasp."

  "No doubt of it, Sir Knight," answered the governor; "but it is thestrolling minstrel, and not the high-born English knight, against whomthe charge is brought. Well! the minstrel comes to this castle, and heintimates a wish that his son should be allowed to take up his quartersat the little old convent of Saint Bride, where two or three Scottishnuns and friars are still permitted to reside, most of them rather outof respect to their order, than for any good will which they aresupposed to bear the English or their sovereign. It may also be noticedthat his leave was purchased by a larger sum of money, if myinformation be correct, than is usually to be found in the purses oftravelling minstrels, a class of wanderers alike remarkable for theirpoverty and for their genius. What do you think of all this
?"

  "I?"--replied De Valence; "I am happy that my situation, as a soldier,under command, altogether dispenses with my thinking of it at all. Mypost, as lieutenant of your castle, is such, that if I can managematters so as to call my honour and my soul my own, I must think thatquite enough of free-will is left at my command; and I promise youshall not have again to reprove, or send a bad report of me to myuncle, on that account."

  "This is beyond sufferance!" said Sir John de Walton half aside, andthen proceeded aloud--"Do not, for Heaven's sake, do yourself and methe injustice of supposing that I am endeavouring to gain an advantageover you by these questions. Recollect, young knight, that when youevade giving your commanding officer your advice when required, youfail as much in point of duty, as if you declined affording him theassistance of your sword and lance."

  "Such being the case," answered De Valence, "let me know plainly onwhat matter it is that you require my opinion? I will deliver itplainly, and stand by the result, even if I should have the misfortune(a crime unpardonable in so young a man, and so inferior an officer) todiffer from that of Sir John de Walton."

  "I would ask you then. Sir Knight of Valence," answered the governor,"what is your opinion with respect to this minstrel, Bertram, andwhether the suspicions respecting him and his son are not such as tocall upon me, in performance of my duty, to put them to a closeexamination, with the question ordinary and extraordinary, as is usualin such cases, and to expel them not only from the castle, but from thewhole territory of Douglas Dale, under pain of scourging, if they beagain found wandering in these parts?"

  "You ask me my opinion," said De Valence, "and you shall have it, SirKnight of Walton, and freely and fairly, as if matters stood betwixt uson a footing as friendly as they ever did. I agree with you, that mostof those who in this day profess the science of minstrelsy, arealtogether unqualified to support the higher pretensions of that nobleorder. Minstrels by right, are men who have dedicated themselves to thenoble occupation of celebrating knightly deeds and generous principles;it is in their verse that the valiant knight is handed down to fame,and the poet has a right, nay is bound, to emulate the virtues which hepraises. The looseness of the times has diminished the consequence, andimpaired the morality of this class of wanderers; their satire andtheir praise are now too often distributed on no other principle thanlove of gain; yet let us hope that there are still among them some whoknow, and also willingly perform, their duty. My own opinion is thatthis Bertram holds himself as one who has not shared in the degradationof his brethren, nor bent the knee to the mammon of the times; it mustremain with you, sir, to judge whether such a person, honourably andmorally disposed, can cause any danger to the Castle of Douglas. Butbelieving, from the sentiments he has manifested to me, that he isincapable of playing the part of a traitor, I must strongly remonstrateagainst his being punished as one, or subjected to the torture withinthe walls of an English garrison. I should blush for my country, if itrequired of us to inflict such wanton misery upon wanderers, whose solefault is poverty; and your own knightly sentiments will suggest morethan would become me to state to Sir John de Walton, unless in so faras is necessary to apologize for retaining my own opinion."

  Sir John de Walton's dark brow was stricken with red when he heard anopinion delivered in opposition to his own, which plainly went tostigmatize his advice as ungenerous, unfeeling, and unknightly. He madean effort to preserve his temper while he thus replied with a degree ofcalmness. "You have given your opinion, Sir Aymer de Valence; and thatyou have given it openly and boldly, without regard to my own, I thankyou. It is not quite so clear that I am obliged to defer my ownsentiments to yours, in case the rules on which I hold my office--thecommands of the king--and the observations which I may personally havemade, shall recommend to me a different line of conduct from that whichyou think it right to suggest."

  De Walton bowed, in conclusion, with great gravity; and the youngknight returning the reverence with exactly the same degree of stiffformality, asked whether there were any particular orders respectinghis duty in the castle; and having received an answer in the negativetook his departure.

  Sir John de Walton, after an expression of impatience, as ifdisappointed at finding that the advance which he had made towards anexplanation with his young friend had proved unexpectedly abortive,composed his brow as if to deep thought, and walked several times toand fro in the apartment, considering what course he was to take inthese circumstances. "It is hard to censure him severely," he said,"when I recollect that, on first entering upon life, my own thoughtsand feelings would have been the same with those of this giddy andhot-headed, but generous boy. Now prudence teaches me to suspectmankind in a thousand instances where perhaps there is not sufficientground. If I am disposed to venture my own honour and fortune, ratherthan an idle travelling minstrel should suffer a little pain, which atall events I might make up to him by money, still, have I a right torun the risk of a conspiracy against the king, and thus advance thetreasonable surrender of the Castle of Douglas, for which I know somany schemes are formed; for which, too, none can be imagined sodesperate but agents will be found bold enough to undertake theexecution? A man who holds my situation, although the slave ofconscience, ought to learn to set aside those false scruples whichassume the appearance of flowing from our own moral feeling, whereasthey are in fact instilled by the suggestion of affected delicacy. Iwill not, I swear by Heaven, be infected by the follies of a boy, suchas Aymer; I will not, that I may defer to his caprices, lose all thatlove, honour, and ambition can propose, for the reward of twelvemonths' service, of a nature the most watchful and unpleasant. I--willgo straight to my point, and use the ordinary precautions in Scotlandwhich I should employ in Normandy or Gascoigny.--What ho! page! whowaits there?"

  One of his attendants replied to his summons--"Seek me out GilbertGreenleaf the archer, and tell him I would speak with him touching thetwo bows and the sheaf of arrows, concerning which I gave him acommission to Ayr."

  A few minutes intervened after the order was given, when the archerentered, holding in his hand two bow-staves, not yet fashioned, and anumber of arrows secured together with a thong. He bore the mysteriouslooks of one whose apparent business is not of very great consequence,but is meant as a passport for other affairs which are in themselves ofa secret nature. Accordingly, as the knight was silent, and afforded noother opening for Greenleaf, that judicious negotiator proceeded toenter upon such as was open to him.

  "Here are the bow-staves, noble sir, which you desired me to obtainwhile I was at Ayr with the Earl of Pembroke's army. They are not sogood as I could have wished, yet are perhaps of better quality thancould have been procured by any other than a fair judge of the weapon.The Earl of Pembroke's whole camp are frantic mad in order to procurereal Spanish staves from the Groyne, and other ports in Spain; butthough two vessels laden with such came into the port of Ayr, said tobe for the King's army, yet I believe never one half of them have comeinto English hands. These two grew in Sherwood, which having beenseasoned since the time of Robin Hood, are not likely to fail either instrength or in aim, in so strong a hand, and with so just an eye, asthose of the men who wait on your worship."

  "And who has got the rest, since two ships' cargoes of new bow-stavesare arrived at Ayr, and thou with difficulty hast only procured me twoold ones?" said the governor.

  "Faith, I pretend not skill enough to know," answered Greenleaf,shrugging his shoulders. "Talk there is of plots in that country aswell as here. It is said that their Bruce, and the rest of his kinsmen,intend a new May-game, and that the outlawed king proposes to land nearTurnberry, early in summer, with a number of stout kernes from Ireland;and no doubt the men of his mock earldom of Garrick are getting themready with bow and spear for so hopeful an undertaking. I reckon thatit will not cost us the expense of more than a few score of sheaves ofarrows to put all that matter to rights."

  "Do you talk then of conspiracies in this part of the country,Greenleaf?" said De Walton. "I know you are a sagaciou
s fellow, wellbred for many a day to the use of the bent stick and string, and willnot allow such a practice to go on under thy nose, without takingnotice of it."

  "I am old enough, Heaven knows," said Greenleaf, "and have had goodexperience of these Scottish wars, and know well whether these nativeScots are a people to be trusted to by knight or yeoman. Say they are afalse generation, and say a good archer told you so, who, with a fairaim, seldom missed a handsbreadth of the white. Ah! sir, your honourknows how to deal with them---ride them strongly, and rein themhard,--you are not like those simple novices who imagine that all is tobe done by gentleness, and wish to parade themselves as courteous andgenerous to those faithless mountaineers, who never, in the course oftheir lives, knew any tincture either of courteousness or generosity."

  "Thou alludest to some one," said the governor, "and I charge thee,Gilbert, to be plain and sincere with me. Thou knowest, methinks, thatin trusting me thou wilt come to no harm?"

  "It is true, it is true, sir," said the old remnant of the wars,carrying his hand to his brow, "but it were imprudent to communicateall the remarks which float through an old man's brain in the idlemoments of such a garrison as this. One stumbles unawares on fantasies,as well as realities, and thus one gets, not altogether undeservedly,the character of a tale-bearer and mischief-maker among his comrades,and methinks I would not willingly fall under that accusation."

  "Speak frankly to me," answered De Walton, "and have no fear of beingmisconstrued, whosoever the conversation may concern."

  "Nay, in plain truth," answered Gilbert, "I fear not the greatness ofthis young knight, being, as I am, the oldest soldier in the garrison,and having drawn a bow-string long and many a day ere he was weanedfrom his nurse's breast."

  "It is, then." said De Walton, "my lieutenant and friend, Aymer deValence, at whom your suspicions point?"

  "At nothing," replied the archer, "touching the honour of the youngknight himself, who is as brave as the sword he wears, and, his youthconsidered, stands high in the roll of English chivalry; but he isyoung, as your worship knows, and I own that in the choice of hiscompany he disturbs and alarms me."

  "Why, you know, Greenleaf," answered the governor, "that in the leisureof a garrison a knight cannot always confine his sports and pleasuresamong those of his own rank, who are not numerous, and may not be sogamesome or fond of frolic, as he would desire them to be."

  "I know that well," answered the archer, "nor would I say a wordconcerning your honour's lieutenant for joining any honest fellows,however inferior their rank, in the wrestling ring, or at a bout ofquarterstaff. But if Sir Aymer de Valence has a fondness for martialtales of former days, methinks he had better learn them from theancient soldiers who have followed Edward the First, whom Godassoilzie, and who have known before his time the Barons' wars andOther onslaughts, in which the knights and archers of merry Englandtransmitted so many gallant actions to be recorded by fame; this truly,I say, were more beseeming the Earl of Pembroke's nephew, than to seehim closet himself day after day with a strolling minstrel, who gainshis livelihood by reciting nonsense and lies to such young men as arefond enough to believe him, of whom hardly any one knows whether he beEnglish or Scottish in his opinions, and still less can any one pretendto say whether he is of English or Scottish birth, or with what purposehe lies lounging about this castle, and is left free to communicateevery thing which passes within it to those old mutterers of matins atSt. Bride's, who say with their tongues God save King Edward, but prayin their hearts God save King Robert the Bruce. Such a communication hecan easily carry on by means of his son, who lies at Saint Bride'scell, as your worship knows, under pretence of illness."

  "How do you say?" exclaimed the governor, "under pretence?--is he notthen really indisposed?"

  "Nay, he may be sick to the death for aught I know," said the archer;"but if so, were it not then more natural that the father should attendhis son's sick-bed, than that he should be ranging about this castle,where one eternally meets him in the old Baron's study, or in somecorner, where you least expect to find him?"

  "If he has no lawful object," replied the knight, "it might be as yousay; but he is said to be in quest of ancient poems or prophecies ofMerlin, of the Rhymer, or some other old bard; and in truth it isnatural for him to wish to enlarge his stock of knowledge and power ofgiving amusement, and where should he find the means save in a studyfilled with ancient books?"

  "No doubt," replied the Archer, with a sort of dry civil sneer ofincredulity; "I have seldom known an insurrection in Scotland but thatit was prophesied by some old forgotten rhyme, conjured out of dust andcobwebs, for the sake of giving courage to these North Country rebels,who durst not otherwise have abidden the whistling of the grey-gooseshaft; but curled heads are hasty, and, with license, even your owntrain, Sir Knight, retains too much of the fire of youth for suchuncertain times as the present."

  "Thou hast convinced me, Gilbert Greenleaf, and I will look into thisman's business and occupation more closely than hitherto. This is notime to peril the safety of a royal castle for the sake of affectinggenerosity towards a man of whom we know so little, and to whom, tillwe receive a very full explanation, we may, without doing himinjustice, attach grave suspicions. Is he now in the apartment calledthe Baron's study?"

  "Your worship will be certain to find him there," replied Greenleaf.

  "Then follow me, with two or three of thy comrades, and keep out ofsight, but within hearing; it may be necessary to arrest this man."

  "My assistance," said the old archer, "shall be at hand when you call,but"--

  "But what?" said the knight; "I hope I am not to find doubts anddisobedience on all hands?"

  "Certainly not on mine," replied Greenleaf; "I would only remind yourworship that what I have said was a sincere opinion expressed in answerto your worship's question; and that, as Sir Aymer de Valence hasavowed himself the patron of this man, I would not willingly be left tothe hazard of his revenge."

  "Pshaw" answered De Walton, "is Aymer de Valence governor of thiscastle, or am I? or to whom do you imagine you are responsible foranswering such questions as I may put to you?"

  "Nay," replied the archer, secretly not displeased at seeing De Waltonshow some little jealousy of his own authority, "believe me, SirKnight, that I know my own station and your worship's, and that I amnot now to be told to whom I owe obedience."

  "To the study, then, and let us find the man," said the governor.

  "A fine matter, indeed," subjoined Greenleaf, following him, "that yourworship should have to go in person to look after the arrest of so meanan individual. But your honour is right; these minstrels are oftenjugglers, and possess the power of making their escape by means whichborrel [Footnote: Unlearned.] folk like myself are disposed toattribute to necromancy."

  Without attending to these last words, Sir John de Walton set forthtowards the study, walking at a quick pace, as if this conversation hadaugmented his desire to find himself in possession of the person of thesuspected minstrel.

  Traversing the ancient passages of the castle, the governor had nodifficulty in reaching the study, which was strongly vaulted withstone, and furnished with a sort of iron cabinet, intended for thepreservation of articles and papers of value, in case of fire. Here hefound the minstrel seated at a small table, sustaining before him amanuscript, apparently of great antiquity, from which he seemed engagedin making extracts. The windows of the room were very small, and stillshowed some traces that they had originally been glazed with a paintedhistory of Saint Bride--another mark of the devotion of the greatfamily of Douglas to their tutelar saint.

  The minstrel, who had seemed deeply wrapped in the contemplation of histask, on being disturbed by the unlooked-for entrance of Sir John deWalton, rose with every mark of respect and humility, and, remainingstanding in the governor's presence, appeared to wait for hisinterrogations, as if he had anticipated that the visit concernedhimself particularly.

  "I am to suppose, Sir Minstrel," said Sir John de Wal
ton, "that youhave been successful in your search, and have found the roll of poetryor prophecies that you proposed to seek after amongst these brokenshelves and tattered volumes?"

  "More successful than I could have expected," replied the minstrel,"considering the effects of the conflagration. This, Sir Knight, isapparently the fatal volume for which I sought, and strange it is,considering the heavy chance of other books contained in this library,that I have been able to find a few though imperfect fragments of it."

  "Since, therefore, you have been permitted to indulge your curiosity,"said the governor, "I trust, minstrel, you will have no objection tosatisfy mine?"

  The minstrel replied with the same humility, "that if there was anything within the poor compass of his skill which could gratify Sir Johnde Walton in any degree, he would but reach his lute, and presentlyobey his commands."

  "You mistake, Sir," said Sir John, somewhat harshly. "I am none ofthose who have hours to spend in listening to tales or music of formerdays; my life has hardly given me time enough for learning the dutiesof my profession, far less has it allowed me leisure for such twanglingfollies. I care not who knows it, but my ear is so incapable judging ofyour art, which you doubtless think a noble one, that I can scarcelytell the modulation of one tune from another."

  "In that case," replied the minstrel composedly, "I can hardly promisemyself the pleasure of affording your worship the amusement which Imight otherwise have done."

  "Nor do I look for any from your hand," said the governor, advancing astep nearer to him, and speaking in a sterner tone. "I wantinformation, sir, which I am assured you can give me, if you incline;and it is my duty to tell you, that if you show unwillingness to speakthe truth, I know means by which it will become my painful duty toextort it in a more disagreeable manner than I would wish."

  "If your questions, Sir Knight," answered Bertram, "be such as I can orought to answer, there shall be no occasion to put them more than once.If they are such as I cannot, or ought not to reply to, believe me thatno threats of violence will extort an answer from me."

  "You speak boldly," said Sir John de Walton; "but take my word for it,that your courage will be put to the test. I am as little fond ofproceeding to such extremities as you can be of undergoing them, butsuch will be the natural consequence of your own obstinacy. I thereforeask you, whether Bertram be your real name--whether you have any otherprofession than that of a travelling minstrel--and, lastly, whether youhave any acquaintance or connexion with any Englishman or Scottishmanbeyond the walls of this Castle of Douglas?"

  "To these questions," replied the minstrel, "I have already answeredthe worshipful knight, Sir Aymer de Valence, and having fully satisfiedhim, it is not, I conceive, necessary that I should undergo a secondexamination; nor is it consistent either with your worship's honour, orthat of the lieutenant-governor, that such a re-examination should takeplace."

  "You are very considerate," replied the governor, "of my honour and ofthat of Sir Aymer de Valence. Take my word for it, they are both inperfect safety in our own keeping, and may dispense with yourattention. I ask you, will you answer the enquiries which it is my dutyto make, or am I to enforce obedience by putting you under thepenalties of the question? I have already, it is my duty to say, seenthe answers you have returned to my lieutenant, and they do not satisfyme."

  He at the same time clapped his hands, and two or three archers showedthemselves stripped of their tunics, and only attired in their shirtsand hose.

  "I understand," said the minstrel, "that you intend to inflict upon mea punishment which is foreign to the genius of the English laws, inthat no proof is adduced of my guilt. I have already told that I am bybirth an Englishman, by profession a minstrel, and that I am totallyunconnected with any person likely to nourish any design against thisCastle of Douglas, Sir John de Walton, or his garrison. What answersyou may extort from me by bodily agony, I cannot, to speak as aplain-dealing Christian, hold myself responsible for. I think that Ican endure as much pain as any one; I am sure that I never yet felt adegree of agony, that I would not willingly prefer to breaking myplighted word, or becoming a false informer against innocent persons:but I own I do not know the extent to which the art of torture may becarried; and though I do not fear you, Sir John de Walton, yet I mustacknowledge that I fear myself, since I know not to what extremity yourcruelty may be capable of subjecting me, or how far I may be enabled tobear it. I, therefore, in the first place, protest, that I shall in nomanner be liable for any words which I may utter in the course of anyexamination enforced from me by torture; and you must therefore, undersuch circumstances, proceed to the execution of an office, which,permit me to say, is hardly that which I expected to have found thusadministered by an accomplished knight like yourself."

  "Hark you, sir," replied the governor, "you and I are at issue, and indoing my duty, I ought instantly to proceed to the extremities I havethreatened; but perhaps you yourself feel less reluctance to undergothe examination as proposed, than I shall do in commanding it; I willtherefore consign you for the present to a place of confinement,suitable to one who is suspected of being a spy upon this fortress.Until you are pleased to remove such suspicions, your lodgings andnourishment are those of a prisoner. In the meantime, before subjectingyou to the question, take notice, I will myself ride to the Abbey ofSaint Bride, and satisfy myself whether the young person whom you wouldpass as your son, is possessed of the same determination as that whichyou yourself seem to assert. It may so happen that his examination andyours may throw such light upon each other as will decidedly proveeither your guilt or innocence, without its being confirmed by the useof the extraordinary question. If it be otherwise, tremble for yourson's sake, if not for your own.--Have I shaken you, sir?--or do youfear, for your boy's young sinews and joints, the engines which, inyour case, you seem willing to defy?"

  "Sir," answered the minstrel, recovering from the momentary emotion hehad shown, "I leave it to yourself, as a man of honour and candour,whether you ought, in common fairness, to form a worse opinion of anyman, because he is not unwilling to incur, in his own person,severities which he would not desire to be inflicted upon his child, asickly youth, just recovering from a dangerous disease."

  "It is my duty," answered De Walton, after a short pause, "to leave nostone unturned by which this business may be traced to the source; andif thou desirest mercy for thy son, thou wilt thyself most easilyattain it, by setting him the example of honesty and plain-dealing."

  The minstrel threw himself back on the seat, as if fully resolved tobear every extremity that could be inflicted, rather than make anyfarther answer than he had already offered. Sir John de Walton himselfseemed in some degree uncertain what might now be his best course. Hefelt an invincible repugnance to proceed, without due consideration, inwhat most people would have deemed the direct line of his duty, byinflicting the torture both upon father and son; but deep as was hissense of devotion towards the King, and numerous as were the hopes andexpectations he had formed upon the strict discharge of his presenthigh trust, he could not resolve upon having recourse at once to thiscruel method of cutting the knot. Bertram's appearance was venerable,and his power of words not unworthy of his aspect and bearing. Thegovernor remembered that Aymer de Valence, whose judgment in general itwas impossible to deny, had described him as one of those rareindividuals, who vindicated the honour of a corrupted profession bytheir personal good behaviour; and he acknowledged to himself, thatthere was gross cruelty and injustice in refusing to admit the prisonerto the credit of being a true and honest man, until, by way of provinghis rectitude, he had strained every sinew, and crushed every joint inhis body, as well as those of his son. "I have no touchstone," he saidinternally, "which can distinguish truth from falsehood; the Bruce andhis followers are on the alert,-he has certainly equipped the galleyswhich lay at Rachrin during winter. This story, too, of Greenleaf,about arms being procured for a new insurrection, tallies strangelywith the appearance of that savage-looking forester at the hunt; an
dall tends to show, that something is upon the anvil which it is my dutyto provide against. I will, therefore, pass over no circumstance bywhich I can affect the mind through hope or fear; but, please God togive me light from any other source, I will not think it lawful totorment these unfortunate, and, it may yet be, honest men." Heaccordingly took his departure from the library, whispering a word toGreenleaf respecting the prisoner.

  He had reached the outward door of the study, and his satellites hadalready taken the minstrel into their grasp, when the voice of the oldman was heard calling upon De Walton to return for a single moment.

  "What hast thou to say, sir?" said the governor; "be speedy, for I havealready lost more time in listening to thee than I am answerable for;and so I advise thee for thine own sake"--

  "I advise thee," said the minstrel, "for thine own sake, Sir John deWalton, to beware how thou dost insist on thy present purpose, by whichthou thyself alone, of all men living,--will most severely suffer. Ifthou harmest a hair of that young man's head--nay, if thou permittesthim to undergo any privation which it is in thy power to prevent, thouwilt, in doing so, prepare for thine own suffering a degree of agonymore acute than anything else in this mortal world could cause thee. Iswear by the most blessed objects of our holy religion; I call towitness that holy sepulchre, of which I have been an unworthy visitor,that I speak nothing but the truth, and that thou wilt one day testifythy gratitude for the part I am now acting. It is my interest, as wellas yours, to secure you in the safe possession of this castle, althoughassuredly I know some things respecting it, and respecting yourworship, which I am not at liberty to tell without the consent of thatyouth. Bring me but a note under his hand, consenting to my taking youinto our mystery, and believe me, you will soon see those cloudscharmed away; since there was never a doleful uncertainty which morespeedily changed to joy, or a thunder-cloud of adversity which moreinstantly gave way to sunshine, than would then the suspicions whichappear now so formidable."

  He spoke with so much earnestness as to make some impression upon SirJohn de Walton, who was once more wholly at a loss to know what linehis duty called upon him to pursue.

  "I would most gladly," said the governor, "follow out my purpose by thegentlest means in my power; and I shall bring no further distress uponthis poor lad, than thine own obstinacy and his shall appear todeserve. In the meantime, think, Sir Minstrel, that my duty has limits,and if I slack it for a day, it will become thee to exert every effortin thy power to meet my condescension. I will give thee leave toaddress thy son by a line under thy hand, and I will await his answerbefore I proceed farther in this matter, which seems to be verymysterious. Meantime, as thou hast a soul to be saved, I conjure theeto speak the truth, and tell me whether the secrets of which thouseemest to be a too faithful treasurer, have regard to the practices ofDouglas, of Bruce, or of any in their names, against this Castle ofDouglas?"

  The prisoner thought a moment, and then replied--"I am aware, SirKnight, of the severe charge under which this command is intrusted toyour hands, and were it in my power to assist you, as a faithfulminstrel and loyal subject, either with hand or tongue, I should feelmyself called upon so to do; but so far am I from being the characteryour suspicions have apprehended, that I should have held it forcertain that the Bruce and Douglas had assembled their followers, forthe purpose of renouncing their rebellious attempts, and taking theirdeparture for the Holy Land, but for the apparition of the forester,who, I hear, bearded you at the hunting, which impresses upon me thebelief, that when so resolute a follower and henchman of the Douglaswas sitting fearless among you, his master and comrades could be at nogreat distance--how far his intentions could be friendly to you, I mustleave it to yourself to judge; only believe me thus far, that the rack,pulley, or pincers, would not have compelled me to act the informer, oradviser, in a quarrel wherein I have little or no share, if I had notbeen desirous of fixing the belief upon you, that you are dealing witha true man, and one who has your welfare at heart.--Meanwhile, permitme to have writing materials, or let my own be restored, for I possess,in some degree, the higher arts of my calling; nor do I fear but that Ican procure for you an explanation of these marvels, without much moreloss of time."

  "God grant it prove so," said the governor; "though I see not well howI can hope for so favourable a termination, and I may sustain greatharm by trusting too much on the present occasion. My duty, however,requires that, in the meantime, you be removed into strict confinement."

  He handed to the prisoner, as he spoke, the writing materials, whichhad been seized upon by the archers on their first entrance, and thencommanded those satellites to unhand the minstrel.

  "I must, then," said Bertram, "remain subjected to all the severitiesof a strict captivity; but I deprecate no hardship whatever in my ownperson, so I may secure you from acting with a degree of rashness, ofwhich you will all your life repent, without the means of atoning."

  "No more words, minstrel," said the governor; "but since I have made mychoice, perhaps a very dangerous one for myself, let us carry thisspell into execution, which thou sayest is to serve me, as mariners saythat oil spread upon the raging billows will assuage their fury."