CHAPTER THE FOURTEENTH.
The way is long, my children, long and rough The moors are dreary, and the woods are dark; But he that creeps from cradle on to grave, Unskill'd save in the velvet course of fortune, Hath miss'd the discipline of noble hearts. OLD PLAY.
It was yet early in the day, when, after the Governor and De Valencehad again summoned Bertram to their councils, the garrison of Douglaswas mustered, and a number of small parties, in addition to thosealready despatched by De Valence from Hazelside, were sent out to scourthe woods in pursuit of the fugitives, with strict injunctions to treatthem, if overtaken, with the utmost respect, and to obey theircommands, keeping an eye, however, on the place where they might takerefuge. To facilitate this result, some who were men of discretion wereintrusted with the secret who the supposed pilgrim and the fugitive nunreally were. The whole ground, whether forest or moorland, within manymiles of Douglas Castle, was covered and traversed by parties, whoseanxiety to detect the fugitives was equal to the reward for their saferecovery, liberally offered by De Walton and De Valence. They sparednot, meantime, to make such enquiries in all directions as might bringto light any machinations of the Scottish insurgents which might be onfoot in those wild districts, of which, as we have said before, DeValence, in particular, entertained strong suspicions. Theirinstructions were, in case of finding such, to proceed against thepersons engaged, by arrest and otherwise, in the most rigorous manner,such as had been commanded by De Walton himself at the time when theBlack Douglas and his accomplices had been the principal objects of hiswakeful suspicions. These various detachments had greatly reduced thestrength of the garrison; yet, although numerous, alert, and despatchedin every direction, they had not the fortune either to fall on thetrace of the Lady of Berkely, or to encounter any party whatever of theinsurgent Scottish.
Meanwhile, our fugitives had, as we have seen, set out from the conventof St. Bride under the guidance of a cavalier, of whom the Lady Augustaknew nothing, save that he was to guide their steps in a directionwhere they would not be exposed to the risk of being overtaken. Atlength Margaret de Hautlieu herself spoke upon the subject.
"You have made no enquiry," she said, "Lady Augusta, whither you aretravelling, or under whose charge, although methinks it should muchconcern you to know."
"Is it not enough for me to be aware," answered Lady Augusta, "that Iam travelling, kind sister, under the protection of one to whom youyourself trust as to a friend; and why need I be anxious for anyfarther assurance of my safety?"
"Simply," said Margaret, de Hautlieu, "because the persons with whom,from national as well as personal circumstances, I stand connected, areperhaps not exactly the protectors to whom you, lady, can with suchperfect safety intrust yourself."
"In what sense," said the Lady Augusta, "do you use these words?"
"Because," replied Margaret de Hautlieu, "the Bruce, the Douglas,Malcolm Fleming, and others of that party, although they are incapableof abusing such an advantage to any dishonourable purpose, mightnevertheless, under a strong temptation, consider you as an hostagethrown into their hands by Providence, through whom they might meditatethe possibility of gaining some benefit to their dispersed anddispirited party."
"They might make me," answered the Lady Augusta, "the subject of such atreaty, when I was dead, but, believe me, never while I drew vitalbreath. Believe me also that, with whatever pain, shame, or agony, Iwould again deliver myself up to the power of De Walton, yes, I wouldrather put myself in his hands--what do I say? _his_!--I would rathersurrender myself to the meanest archer of my native country, thancombine with its foes to work mischief to merry England---my ownEngland--that country which is the envy of every other country, and thepride of all who can term themselves her natives!"
"I thought that your choice might prove so," said Lady Margaret; "andsince you have honoured me with your confidence, gladly would I providefor your liberty by placing you as nearly in the situation which youyourself desire, as my poor means have the power of accomplishing. Inhalf an hour we shall be in danger of being taken by the Englishparties, which will be instantly dispersed in every direction in questof us. Now, take notice, lady, I know a place in which I can takerefuge with my friends and countrymen, those gallant Scots, who havenever even in this dishonoured age bent the knee to Baal. For theirhonour, their nicety of honour, I could in other days have answeredwith my own; but of late, I am bound to tell you, they have been put tothose trials by which the most generous affections may be soured, anddriven to a species of frenzy, the more wild that it is foundedoriginally on the noblest feelings. A person who feels himself deprivedof his natural birthright, denounced, exposed to confiscation anddeath, because he avouches the rights of his king, the cause of hiscountry, ceases on his part to be nice or precise in estimating thedegree of retaliation which it is lawful for him to exercise in therequital of such injuries; and, believe me, bitterly should I lamenthaving guided you into a situation which you might consider afflictingor degrading."
"In a word then," said the English lady, "what is it you apprehend I amlike to suffer at the hands of your friends, whom I must be excused forterming rebels?"
"If," said the sister Ursula, "_your_ friends, whom I should termoppressors and tyrants, take our land and our lives, seize our castles,and confiscate our property, you must confess, that the rough laws ofwar indulge _mine_ with the privilege of retaliation. There can be nofear, that such men, under any circumstances, would ever exercisecruelty or insult upon a lady of your rank; but it is another thing tocalculate that they will abstain from such means of extorting advantagefrom your captivity as are common in warfare. You would not, I think,wish to be delivered up to the English, on consideration of Sir John deWalton surrendering the Castle of Douglas to its natural lord; yet,were you in the hands of the Bruce or Douglas, although I can answerfor your being treated with all the respect which they have the meansof showing, yet I own, their putting you at such a ransom might be byno means unlikely."
"I would sooner die," said the Lady Berkely, "than have my name mixedup in a treaty so disgraceful; and De Walton's reply to it would, I amcertain, be to strike the head from the messenger, and throw it fromthe highest tower of Douglas Castle."
"Where, then, lady, would you now go," said sister Ursula, "were thechoice in your power?"
"To my own castle," answered Lady Augusta, "where, if necessary, Icould be defended even against the king himself, until I could place atleast my person under the protection of the Church."
"In that case," replied Margaret de Hautlieu, "my power of renderingyou assistance is only precarious, yet it comprehends a choice which Iwill willingly submit to your decision, notwithstanding I therebysubject the secrets of my friends to some risk of being discovered andfrustrated. But the confidence which you have placed in me, imposes onme the necessity of committing to you a like trust. It rests with you,whether you will proceed with me to the secret rendezvous of theDouglas and his friends, which I may be blamed for making known, andthere take your chance of the reception which you may encounter, sinceI cannot warrant you of any thing save honourable treatment, so far asyour person is concerned; or if you should think this too hazardous,make the best of your way at once for the Border; in which last case Iwill proceed as far as I can with you towards the English line, andthen leave you to pursue your journey, and to obtain a guard and aconductor among your own countrymen. Meantime, it will be well for meif I escape being taken, since the abbot would not shrink at inflictingupon me the death due to an apostate nun."
"Such cruelty, my sister, could hardly be inflicted upon one who hadnever taken the religious vows, and who still, according to the laws ofthe Church, had a right to make a choice between the world and theveil."
"Such choice as they gave their gallant victims," said Lady Margaret,"who have fallen into English hands during these merciless wars,--suchchoice as they gave to Wallace, the Champion of Scotland,--such as theygave to H
ay, the gentle and the free,--to Sommerville, the flower ofchivalry,--and to Athol, the blood relation of King Edward himself--allof whom were as much traitors, under which name they were executed, asMargaret de Hautlieu is an apostate nun, and subject to the rule of thecloister."
She spoke with some eagerness, for she felt as if the English ladyimputed to her more coldness than she was, in such doubtfulcircumstances, conscious of manifesting.
"And after all," she proceeded, "you, Lady Augusta de Berkely, what doyou venture, if you run the risk of falling into the hands of yourlover? What dreadful risk do you incur? You need not, methinks, fearbeing immured between four walls, with a basket of bread and a cruiseof water, which, were I seized, would be the only support allowed to mefor the short space that my life would be prolonged. Nay, even were youto be betrayed to the rebel Scots, as you call them, a captivity amongthe hills, sweetened by the hope of deliverance, and rendered tolerableby all the alleviations which the circumstances of your captors allowedthem the means of supplying, were not, I think, a lot so very hard toendure."
"Nevertheless," answered the Lady of Berkely, "frightful enough it musthave appeared to me, since, to fly from such, I threw myself upon yourguidance."
"And, whatever you think or suspect," answered the novice, "I am astrue to you as ever was one maiden to another; and as sure as eversister Ursula was true to her vows, although they were never completed,so will I be faithful to your secret, even at the risk of betraying myown."
"Hearken, lady!" she said, suddenly pausing, "do you hear that?"
The sound to which she alluded was the same imitation of the cry of anowlet, which the lady had before heard under the walls of the convent.
"These sounds," said Margaret de Hautlieu, "announce that one is near,more able than I am to direct us in this matter. I must go forward andspeak with him; and this man, our guide, will remain by you for alittle space; nor, when he quits your bridle, need you wait for anyother signal, but ride forward on the woodland path, and obey theadvice and directions which will be given you."
"Stay! stay! sister Ursula!" cried the Lady de Berkely--"abandon me notin this moment of uncertainty and distress!"
"It must be, for the sake of both," returned Margaret de Hautlieu. "Ialso am in uncertainty--I also am in distress--and patience andobedience are the only virtues which can save us both."
So saying, she struck her horse with the riding rod, and moving brisklyforward, disappeared among the tangled boughs of a thicket. The Lady ofBerkely would have followed her companion, but the cavalier whoattended them laid a strong hand upon the bridle of her palfrey, with alook which implied that he would not permit her to proceed in thatdirection. Terrified, therefore, though she could not exactly state areason why, the Lady of Berkely remained with her eyes fixed upon thethicket, instinctively, as it were, expecting to see a band of Englisharchers, or rugged Scottish insurgents, issue from its tangled skirts,and doubtful which she should have most considered as the objects ofher terror. In the distress of her uncertainty, she again attempted tomove forward, but the stern check which her attendant again bestowedupon her bridle, proved sufficiently that in restraining her wishes,the stranger was not likely to spare the strength which he certainlypossessed. At length, after some ten minutes had elapsed, the cavalierwithdrew his hand from her bridle, and pointing with his lance towardsthe thicket, through which there winded a narrow, scarce visible path,seemed to intimate to the lady that her road lay in that direction, andthat he would no longer prevent her following it.
"Do you not go with me?" said the lady, who, having been accustomed tothis man's company since they left the convent, had by degrees come tolook upon him as a sort of protector. He, however, gravely shook hishead, as if to excuse complying with a request, which it was not in hispower to grant; and turning his steed in a different direction, retiredat a pace which soon carried him from her sight. She had then noalternative but to take the path of the thicket, which had beenfollowed by Margaret de Hautlieu, nor did she pursue it long beforecoming in sight of a singular spectacle. The trees grew wider as thelady advanced, and when she entered the thicket, she perceived that,though hedged in as it were by an enclosure of copsewood, it was in theinterior altogether occupied by a few of the magnificent trees, such asseemed to have been the ancestors of the forest, and which, though fewin number, were sufficient to overshade all the unoccupied ground, bythe great extent of their complicated branches. Beneath one of theselay stretched something of a grey colour, which, as it drew itselftogether, exhibited the figure of a man sheathed in armour, butstrangely accoutred, and in a manner so bizarre, as to indicate some ofthe wild fancies peculiar to the knights of that period. His armour wasingeniously painted, so as to represent a skeleton; the ribs beingconstituted by the corselet and its back-piece. The shield representedan owl with its wings spread, a device which was repeated upon thehelmet, which appeared to be completely covered by an image of the samebird of ill omen. But that which was particularly calculated to excitesurprise in the spectator, was the great height and thinness of thefigure, which, as it arose from the ground, and placed itself in anerect posture, seemed rather to resemble an apparition in the act ofextricating itself from the grave, than that of an ordinary man risingupon his feet. The horse, too, upon which the lady rode, started backand snorted, either at the sudden change of posture of this ghastlyspecimen of chivalry, or disagreeably affected by some odour whichaccompanied his presence. The lady herself manifested some alarm, foralthough she did not utterly believe she was in the presence of a supernatural being, yet, among all the strange half-frantic disguises ofchivalry this was assuredly the most uncouth which she had ever seen;and, considering how often the knights of the period pushed theirdreamy fancies to the borders of insanity, it seemed at best no verysafe adventure to meet? one accoutred in the emblems of the King ofTerrors himself, alone, and in the midst of a wild forest. Be theknight's character and purposes what they might, she resolved, however,to accost him in the language and manner observed in romances upon suchoccasions, in the hope even that if he were a madman he might prove apeaceable one, and accessible to civility.
"Sir Knight," she said, in as firm a tone as she could assume, "rightsorry am I, if, by my hasty approach, I have disturbed your solitarymeditations. My horse, sensible I think of the presence of yours,brought me hither, without my being aware whom or what I was toencounter."
"I am one," answered the stranger, in a solemn tone, "whom few men seekto meet, till the time comes that they can avoid me no longer."
"You speak, Sir Knight," replied the Lady de Berkely, "according to thedismal character of which it has pleased you to assume the distinction.May I appeal to one whose exterior is so formidable, for the purpose ofrequesting some directions to guide me through this wild wood; as, forinstance, what is the name of the nearest castle, town, or hostelry,and by what course I am best likely to reach such?"
"It is a singular audacity," answered the Knight of the Tomb, "thatwould enter into conversation with him who is termed the Inexorable,the Unsparing, and the Pitiless, whom even the most miserable forbearsto call to his assistance, lest his prayers should be too soonanswered."
"Sir Knight," replied the Lady Augusta, "the character which you haveassumed, unquestionably for good reasons, dictates to you a peculiarcourse of speech; but although your part is a sad one, it does not, Ishould suppose, render it necessary for you to refuse those acts ofcivility to which you must have bound yourself in taking the high vowsof chivalry."
"If you will trust to my guidance," replied the ghastly figure, "thereis only one condition upon which I can grant you the information whichyou require; and that is, that you follow my footsteps without anyquestions asked as to the tendency of our journey."
"I suppose I must submit to your conditions," she answered, "if you areindeed pleased to take upon yourself the task of being my guide. In myheart I conceive you to be one of the unhappy gentlemen of Scotland,who are now in arms, as they say, for the defence of the
ir liberties. Arash undertaking has brought me within the sphere of your influence,and now the only favour I have to request of you, against whom I neverdid, nor planned any evil, is the guidance which your knowledge of thecountry permits you easily to afford me in my way to the frontiers ofEngland. Believe that what I may see of your haunts or of yourpractices, shall be to me things invisible, as if they were actuallyconcealed by the sepulchre itself, of the king of which it has pleasedyou to assume the attributes; and if a sum of money, enough to be theransom of a wealthy earl, will purchase such a favour at need, such aransom will be frankly paid, and with as much fidelity as ever it wasrendered by a prisoner to the knight by whom he was taken. Do notreject me, princely Bruce--noble Douglas--if indeed it is to either ofthese that I address myself in this my last extremity--men speak ofboth as fearful enemies, but generous knights and faithful friends. Letme entreat you to remember how much you would wish your own friends andconnexions to meet with compassion under similar circumstances, at thehands of the knights of England."
"And have they done so?" replied the Knight, in a voice more gloomythan before, "or do you act wisely, while imploring the protection ofone whom you believe to be a true Scottish knight, for no other reasonthan the extreme and extravagant misery of his appearance?--is it, Isay, well or wise to remind him of the mode in which the lords ofEngland have treated the lovely maidens and the high-born dames ofScotland? Have not their prison cages been suspended from thebattlements of castles, that their captivity might be kept in view ofevery base burgher, who should desire to look upon the miseries of thenoblest peeresses, yea, even the Queen of Scotland? [Footnote: TheQueen of Robert the Bruce, and the Countess of Buchan, by whom, as oneof Macduff's descent, he was crowned at Scone, were secured in themanner described.] Is this a recollection which can inspire a Scottishknight with compassion towards an English lady? or is it a thoughtwhich can do aught but swell the deeply sworn hatred of EdwardPlantagenet, the author of these evils, that boils in every drop ofScottish blood which still feels the throb of life? No;--it is all youcan expect, if, cold and pitiless as the sepulchre I represent, I leaveyou unassisted in the helpless condition in which you describe yourselfto be."
"You will not be so inhuman," replied the lady; "in doing so you mustsurrender every right to honest fame, which you have won either bysword or lance. You must surrender every pretence to that justice whichaffects the merit of supporting the weak against the strong. You mustmake it your principle to avenge the wrongs and tyranny of EdwardPlantagenet upon the dames and damosels of England, who have neitheraccess to his councils, nor perhaps give him their approbation in hiswars against Scotland."
"It would not then," said the Knight of the Sepulchre, "induce you todepart from your request, should I tell you the evils to which youwould subject yourself should we fall into the hands of the Englishtroops, and should they find you under such ill-omened protection as myown?"
"Be assured," said the lady, "the consideration of such an event doesnot in the least shake my resolution, or desire of confiding in yourprotection. You may probably know who I am, and may judge how far even,Edward would hold himself entitled to extend punishment towards me."
"How am I to know you," replied the ghastly cavalier, "or yourcircumstances? They must be extraordinary indeed, if they could form acheck, either of justice or humanity, upon the revengeful feelings ofEdward. All who know him are well assured that it is no ordinary motivethat will induce him to depart from the indulgence of his evil temper.But be it as it may, you, lady, if a lady you be, throw yourself as aburden upon me, and I must discharge myself of my trust as I best may;for this purpose you must be guided implicitly by my directions, whichwill be given after the fashion of those of the spiritual world, beingintimations, rather than detailed instructions for your conduct, andexpressed rather by commands, than, by any reason or argument. In thisway it is possible that I may be of service to you; in any other case,it is most likely that I may fail you at need, and melt from your sidelike a phantom which dreads the approach of day."
"You cannot be so cruel!" answered the lady. "A gentleman, a knight,and a nobleman--and I persuade myself I speak to all--hath duties whichhe cannot abandon."
"He has, I grant it, and they are most sacred to me," answered theSpectral Knight; "but I have also duties whose obligations are doublybinding, and to which I must sacrifice those which would otherwise leadme to devote myself to your rescue. The only question is whether youfeel inclined to accept my protection on the limited terms on whichalone I can extend it, or whether you deem it better that each go theirown way, and limit themselves to their own resources, and trust therest to Providence?" "Alas!" replied the lady, "beset and hard pressedas I am, to ask me to form a resolution for myself, is like calling onthe wretch in the act of falling from a precipice, to form a calmjudgment by what twig he may best gain the chance of breaking his fall.His answer must necessarily be, that he will cling to that which he caneasiest lay hold of, and trust the rest to Providence. I accepttherefore your offer of protection in the modified way you are pleasedto limit it, and I put my faith in Heaven and in you. To aid meeffectually, however, you must know my name and my circumstances."
"All these," answered the Knight of the Sepulchre, "have already beentold me by your late companion; for deem not, young lady, that eitherbeauty, rank, extended domains, unlimited wealth, or the highestaccomplishments, can weigh any thing in the consideration of him whowears the trappings of the tomb, and whose affections and desires arelong buried in the charnel-house."
"May your faith," said the Lady Augusta de Berkely, "be as steady asyour words appear severe, and I submit to your guidance, without theleast doubt or fear that it will prove otherwise than as I venture tohope."