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! \ 
 
 A 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
£<• 
 
 t \ 
 
 EDINBURGH: 
 
 PRINTEn BY OLIVER & BOYD. 
 TWEBDDALE-COUHT. 
 
THE 
 
 SPAEWIFE; 
 
 A TALE OF 
 
 THE SCOTTISH CHRONICLES. 
 
 (( 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF 
 ANNALS OF THE PARISH,'' " RINGAN 
 GILHAIZE," &c. 
 
 " Cfjep gaj?.-(au5at itej? tbt^ ? %tt tUm ^$/ 
 
 ABERDEEN. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 EDINBURGH : 
 
 PUBLISHED BY 
 
 OLIVER & BOYD, TWEEDDALE-COURT ; 
 
 AND G. & W. B. WHITTAKER, AVE-MARIA. 
 
 LANE, LONDON. 
 
 1823. 
 
€!?&*' 
 
 ?Rlj,-}o2 
 
 G,?.S 
 
 7 
 
 ^^iZBt 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 In the meantime, Bishop Finlay, who had 
 fled with the Lord James toXarrickfergus in 
 Ireland, having been seized witli a sore ma- 
 lady, departed this life; and the young Lord 
 had, after his obsequies, passed over the sea 
 to the castle of the Macdonald in Skye, to 
 seek the aid of his help and means against 
 their common enemy the King ; for so they 
 both wrothfully accounted his Majesty.— 
 TheXord James, because of the dreadful de- 
 vastation which his austere justice had brought 
 upon his father's house, and Macdonald, not 
 only as an adherent of the faction of the AI- 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 A 
 
(ft 
 
 8 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 banies, but for the prejudice which his daugh- 
 ter, the Lady Sibilla, had suffered in the 
 frustration of her betrothment. 
 
 The Lord James, on reaching the shores of 
 Skye, was informed, by certain persons who 
 had come from the mainland, that Macdonald 
 was then at Inverlochy with his kith, kin, 
 and allies, having returned thither from an 
 expedition which he had taken to avenge the 
 fate of his old friend, Duke Murdoch. In 
 which inroad, finding himself none succoui-ed 
 by those on whose swords he had reckoned, 
 for they were of the party for whom Sir Ro- 
 bert Graeme had so unprofitably made him- 
 self spokesman, he was fain to profess contri- 
 tion to the King for his rashness, in order 
 that he might be clemently permitted, as he in 
 the end was, to return scaithless home. 
 
 On hearing these tidings, the Lord James 
 forthwith ordered the bark wherein he had 
 come from Ireland to make for Inverlochy, 
 where he was welcomed by the Macdonald, as 
 
I 
 
 lis daugh- 
 d in the 
 
 shores of 
 sons who 
 lacdonald 
 kith, kin, 
 • from an 
 venge the 
 ioch. In 
 succourcd 
 reckoned, 
 in Sir Ro- 
 lade him- 
 ess contri- 
 , in order 
 d, as he in 
 me. 
 
 3rd James 
 jin he had 
 nverlochy, 
 idonald, as 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 3 
 
 if the rites and benediction of holy church had 
 made him indeed his son-in-law. Nor was it 
 long till they had concerted a new enterprise; 
 to the which the Lord of the Isles was the 
 ixiore easily incited, by the assurances which 
 he received from his guest, that the mutations 
 of fortune had none changed the sincerity of 
 the love and devotion which he had professed 
 for the Lady Sibilla. 
 
 " Could we,^' said the Lord James, ** but 
 drive this tyrant King back to England, I 
 doubt not the estates of the realm would 
 speedily reverse my attainder, and restore me 
 to the rights and rank of my family. Then 
 should I prove before the world with what 
 unimpaired affection I am in heart wedded to 
 Sibilla; or if we meet in battle, and he be 
 
 slam or taken, shall I not be king, and Sibilla 
 share with me the dignity royai ?^ 
 
 These sanguine anticipations of youthful 
 adventure, together with his own sense of 
 baffled enterprise, and the native turbulence 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 i 
 
 ■i 
 
 of his temper, so worked upon Macdonald, 
 that next morning he marched with his clans- 
 men, accompanied by the lord James, for 
 Inverness ; where, no later than the third day 
 after having received the King's clement per- 
 mission to return home unmolested, he arriv- 
 ed, and where, to shew how resolute he was 
 to set at nought the royal authority, the first 
 thing he did was to burn the town and lay 
 siege to the castle. 
 
 Now it had so chanced, that the Lady Si- 
 billa, by the exhortations of her aunt, the 
 discreet Countess of Ross, with the sisterly 
 solicitations of her royal mistress, about this 
 time came back to the court, and was then 
 abiding with the Queen in the Abbey of 
 Holyrood at Edinburgh, where, in the judg- 
 ment of all the gallants, her beauty, albeit 
 faded in its virgin bloom, had received new 
 lustre by the virtue of her endeavouring to 
 avert the doom of the ill-fated princes.—To 
 no eye did it shine so bright and fair as to 
 
I 
 
 lacdonald, 
 I his clans- 
 rames, for 
 third day 
 emcnt per- 
 , he arriv- 
 ite he was 
 ^, the first 
 n and lay 
 
 J Lady Si- 
 aunt, the 
 lie sisterly 
 about this 
 
 was then 
 Abbev of 
 
 the judg- 
 ity, albeit 
 eived new 
 ^ouring to 
 nces.—To 
 fair as to 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 5 
 
 that of Stuart, who was become her openly 
 professed lover — seconded in his suit by the 
 gentle rcconnnendations both of the King and 
 Queen, and by many a laudatory advertise- 
 ment of his worth and knighthood iVoni the 
 Countess of Ross, who was won to favour 
 him by the courtesies which he administered, 
 as it were with the left hand, to the weak side 
 of her vanities. 
 
 Sibilla, however, heeded not the fond ad- 
 miration with which she was followed, but 
 abandoned herself to bitter ruminations on 
 the disappointment of her early affection, and 
 the ruined fortunes of her first lover. For 
 though she shunned not the pastimes of the 
 court, yet was her spirit, amidst the most Joy- 
 ful revels, ever far away ; and her eyes won- 
 dered with a cold and aimless restlessness, 
 that often touched the observer with the sym- 
 pathy of a melancholy wonder and sorrow. 
 She had plainly no pleasure in any kind of 
 companionship ; but, as often as she could 
 
I li i! 
 
 I'll 
 
 Ml 
 
 6 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 pass forth unheeded, she chose her solitary 
 vralks among the lonely places of the neigh- 
 l3o-ring mountain ; sitting sometimes on the 
 perilous brink of the precipices, like the white 
 sea-bird th^it perches on the ocean cliffs, at 
 others hovering in the still of the evening 
 twilight amidst the shadows and lowering 
 rocks that overhang the chapel of St Anthony. 
 It came to pass one morning, as she went 
 forth from the Abbey to indulge her mourn- 
 ful cogitations in that manner in the King's 
 Park, that she saw Anniple of Dunblane 
 standing at a little distance on the green 
 sward, resting her hands on the top of the 
 rough sapling, which, though a burden, she 
 had long used as a staff.— She was leaning 
 forward, and her eyes were cast down, ear- 
 nestly commercing with something that she 
 contemplated on tue ground. 
 
 " Good morrow, Anniple," said the pale 
 and pensive Sibilla ; " what seest thou on the 
 grass to make thee read it so earnestly .?" 
 
er solitary 
 the neigh- 
 les on the 
 3 the white 
 I cHffs, at 
 e evening 
 lowering 
 Anthony, 
 she went 
 IV mourn- 
 he King's 
 Dunblane 
 he green 
 op of the 
 rden, she 
 IS leaning 
 3wn, ear- 
 that she 
 
 the pale 
 m on the 
 
 ly ?" . 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 7 
 
 The Spaewife, without raising her eyes, 
 gave a quick and impatient intimation with 
 her hand, that she did not wish to be dis- 
 turbed. 
 
 " I would give a merk for thy fancies/' 
 said the lady. 
 
 Anniple, without making any reply, or 
 changing her position, held out her hand to 
 accept the gift. 
 
 " Nay, that may not be— no work, no wage, 
 Anniple— and if you will not teU me, I shall 
 at once say again, good morrow." 
 
 The fantastical creature still made no reply; 
 but, looking up, she beckoned with her finger 
 to die Lady SibiUa to draw near. She then 
 pointed to the ground, and said— 
 
 '' See ye that, Lady SibiUa .?— see ye that 
 there .?" 
 
 '' I see nothing, Anniple, but a beetle 
 crawling." 
 
 " It's a clok-Ieddy in her scarlet cardinal." 
 " What then .?" 
 
I 
 
 in 
 
 ; 1 
 
 8 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 " Is't no a sinful injustice, SibiUa Macdo- 
 nald, that the hand o' Heaven sliould have 
 ta'en such pains to mak and adorn that loath- 
 some thing, and let the fairies make the like 
 of me out o' a ben-weed, that the very kine 
 have more sense than to taste ?" 
 
 "All things," replied SibiUa, "are by 
 permission of Heaven, and done in wisdom 
 and with justice.'' 
 
 Annple eyed her askance with a bright 
 and piercing look, and then said, in a sharp 
 and sarcastic accent, — 
 
 " Wha did the wrang that ye yearn to re- 
 venge, and gave leave for the dule that ye 
 dree ?"— -And she added, laughingly, " and 
 so ye thought I was marvelling at the red 
 mantle o' the leddy-launners ?"— but grubs 
 and worms are nae marvels to me, ever since 
 I sleepit, the night of the four burials, in the 
 old Leddy o' Limmerton's coffin in Cambus- 
 kenneth kirk-yard :— She was buriet wi' her 
 wedding-ring, and the betherel howkit her up 
 
la Macdo- 
 ould have 
 hat loath- 
 :e the like 
 very kine 
 
 " are by 
 1 wisdom 
 
 a bright 
 n a sharp 
 
 arn to re- 
 e that ye 
 y, " and 
 
 the red 
 ut grubs 
 !ver since 
 Is, in the 
 Cambus- 
 
 wi' her 
 t her up 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 9 
 
 to take it off. I saw frae ahint a headstane 
 what the loon was doing; and when he was 
 whitling wi' her finger, I gaed such a skraike 
 like a howlit, that it gar't him take leg-bail. 
 See, there's the ring on niyain mid-finger, wi' 
 a garnet stano like a blob o' blood. When the 
 bethcrel ran aAvay I herryt the corpse myseP, 
 and harPt it out by the hg and the winding- 
 sheet, and lay cosily doun in the coffin till the 
 morning.— Eh ! What a fright, I trow. Fa. 
 ther Andrews got, when he saw me sleeping 
 there, and the poor auld Leddy o' Limmerton 
 lying in her dead-claes on the grass ; but I 
 wish ne'er to dream as I did that night ; for 
 I dreamt I was dead, and buried in a tomb ; 
 and that cloks and worms were crawhng and 
 coiling O'er my heart and aneath my back— 
 
 And a black toad— he sat on my chin, 
 Watching my mouth, that he nn^ht loup in." 
 
 Sibilla shuddered, and moved to go away • 
 but Anniple took hold of her mantle, and saidll 
 
 9 
 
10 
 
 TKE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 hi 
 
 '« But I have na told you what I was look- 
 ing at." 
 
 " What was it ?" inquired Sibilla, pale and 
 apprehensive of some still more hideous re- 
 hearsal. 
 
 " I saw Lord Athol," replied Anniple, 
 " as I came through the park yestreen, on 
 this spot ; and just now, when I was coming by 
 again, I had a glimmering glimpse of his like- 
 ness on the grass, with the look of one that 
 would do ill, yet was afraid. I hae a thought 
 he would fain be King." 
 
 " You speak maliciously, Anniple,'' said 
 Sibilla, at once surprised and struck with the 
 remark. " Go to, else you may have cause 
 to repent such slander; the Earl of Athol 
 is an honest man, albeit no friend nor favour- 
 ite with me." 
 
 " When the King dies, he'll be crown't for 
 
 a' that." 
 
 " Duke Murdoch's son, the Lord James, 
 though under the ban of outlawry and forfei- 
 
 m 
 
 i 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 11 
 
 vas 
 
 look- 
 
 pale and 
 leous re- 
 
 Anniple, 
 treen, on 
 oming by 
 f his like- 
 one that 
 a thought 
 
 >i* 
 
 pie,'** said 
 i with the I 
 lave cause ' 1 
 of Athol 
 or favour- 
 
 ;rown*t for 
 
 ird James, 
 and forfei- 
 
 ture, is nearer to the throne," replied Sibilla 
 seriously, forgetting, in the emotion of the 
 moment, the irrational character of the Spae- 
 wife. 
 
 " Near or far off," said Anniple, " it's his 
 doom, and I'll say no more. But what need 
 I care — nae good will come o't to me. I 
 would I could forget the looks o' him as I 
 saw him here. Maybe it was the de'il in his 
 likeness, come to molest me.— Do ye ken, Si- 
 billa Macdonald, that I ne'er forgather with 
 Lord Athol himself, but some dule or da- 
 mage ever befalls me. I wish ye would put 
 your hand to the work, and help to shove him 
 out o' the world — and ye should too, for he's 
 a cross in your own fortune." 
 
 " How ! what do you mean ?" cried Si- 
 billa, shaken with a strange horror. 
 
 " That ye're no to be married while he's to 
 the fore." 
 
 « Why do you think so .?" replied Sibilla, 
 recft'ering her wonted self-possession, advert- 
 
12 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE- 
 
 ! t m 
 
 ing, at the same time, in her mind to the assi- 
 duous suit of the EarFs nephew, the young 
 Lord Stuart. Anniple, however, made no 
 answer ; but looking shrewdly from the cor- 
 ner of her eye, and with her head bent aside, 
 sang — 
 
 " Fair Magdalene sat at the window high, 
 
 And she looked far o'er the sea ; 
 And she saw a bark frae a foreign land 
 
 Coming sailing merrilie. 
 It is, it is my own true knight, 
 
 And he comes from Palestine, 
 So hie you hence, Sir Reginald, 
 
 For I'll never now be thine.'* 
 
 She then hastened away, and Sibilla, instead 
 of pursuing her wonted walk towards the cliffs 
 of Arthur's Seat, went back to the Abbey, 
 where she was not long entered, when messen- 
 gers from divers parts of the north came with 
 accounts to the King of the sudden rebellion 
 of the Lord of the Isles, her father, the de- 
 struction of Inverness by his clansmen, and 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 13 
 
 > the assi- 
 le young 
 made no 
 the cor- 
 ;nt aside, 
 
 the rumour of the Lord James being with 
 him from Ireland. The latter occurrence 
 seemed to her very wonderfully predicated in 
 the rude strain with which the Spaewife had 
 parted from her in the park. 
 
 ;h, 
 
 , instead 
 
 the cliffs 
 
 Abbey, 
 
 messen- 
 
 ime with 
 
 rebellion 
 
 the de- 
 
 len, and 
 
14 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 i 
 
 I Hi 
 
 I ( 
 
 i lillih 
 
 When the King heard how Macdonald, after 
 having accepted his grace and permission to 
 return home, liad so soon of a sudden come 
 hack with his clansmen, and done such da- 
 mage and molestation to the town of Inver- 
 ness, he was exceedingly wroth, and not only 
 called on his armourer to equip him for battle, 
 but issued his royal mandate and order for all 
 the knights and gallants of the court to pre- 
 pare with horse and panoply to accompany 
 him to the field. For in the wisdom of that 
 noble prince, speed was esteemed the better 
 part of the equipage of war ; and it was ever 
 his declared opinion, that only ill could come 
 of the evil of delay, from whatsoever consider- 
 ations it might be pretermitted to arise. 
 
 « 
 
 /I' 
 
 1 1 
 
 I i 
 
i 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 15 
 
 laid, after 
 nission to 
 den come 
 such da- 
 of Inver- 
 i not only 
 or battle, 
 ler for all 
 rt to pre- 
 company 
 n of that 
 he better 
 was ever 
 uld come 
 consider- 
 se. 
 
 m 
 ''m 
 
 In the first alacrity, with which his royal 
 commands were received by the youthful 
 wai-riors of the Scottish court, none seeming. 
 ly obeyed them with a more joyful intrepi- 
 dity than did the Lord Robert Stuart, who, 
 in the ardour of his loyalty, and the thirst of 
 valiant deeds wherewith the tidings had in- 
 spired him, forgot that the bold rebel he was 
 summoned to quell was no other than the 
 father of his beloved Sibilla. And thus it 
 happened, when at the accustomed hour that 
 young and unfortunate lady went to give her 
 wonted tendence on the Queen, that she met 
 him in the gallery proudly harnessed for war, 
 and gay with the generous arrogance of youth- 
 ful soldiership eager for adventure. 
 
 On first seeing him, she was none diffi- 
 culted to discern for what purpose he was 
 armed ; but, with a firm step and a lofty air, 
 she proceeded along the gallery as if she not- 
 ed him not ; her heart however swelled, and 
 throbbed as if it had been wounded with 
 
I 
 
 16 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 mai)y arrows, whose barbs of agony were yet 
 <liiivcring in its core. 
 
 Her proud demeanour, and the fixed un- 
 recognising eye with which she passed him, 
 soon instructed Stuart cf his error, and he 
 perceived that she resented the readiness with 
 winch he had put on his armour to march 
 with the King against her fatlier. For a mo- 
 ment he was awed by her majestic look, and 
 troubled with the thought of his own haste, 
 and he would fain have retired from her pre- 
 sence, could he have believed, as she affected, 
 that he was indeed unobserved. But before 
 she had half-way passed up the room, he re- 
 covered from his surprise, and ran quickly 
 after her. The rattling of his mail and sword 
 was too audible not to strike her ear in such a 
 manner as to cause her to look back. In the 
 act of so doing, he caught her by the hand, 
 and with a gentle violence held her or the spot. 
 " I would speak with you. Lady," said he ; 
 " I implore you to listen but for a moment." 
 
 %| 
 
 •^ 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 17 
 
 ^ were yet 
 
 fixed un- 
 3sed him, 
 ', and he 
 ness with 
 to march 
 ^'or a mo- 
 ook, and 
 vn haste, 
 L her pre- 
 afFected, 
 It before 
 n, he re- 
 i quickly 
 ad sword 
 in such a 
 In the 
 he hand, 
 the spot, 
 said he ; 
 oment." 
 
 4 
 
 *i 
 
 " Is it to t?ll me, after your manifold pro- 
 testations of affection," replied Sibilla, « that 
 you are prepared to slay my unfortunate fa- 
 ther?" 
 
 Stuart dropped her hand, and recoiled to 
 some distance : he looked at her with amaze- 
 ment tinged with contrition ; and he beheld 
 her lip curl with scorn, and her eyes lighten 
 with indignation. 
 
 " I have never. Lady," said he humbly, 
 " had any reason to esteem my protestations 
 acceptable." 
 
 " Oh I then, it is because you have not yet 
 been acknowledged as an accepted suitor, that 
 you have thus so very alertly put yourself in 
 steel. Truly, my Lord, you give me good 
 reason to persevere in the maiden diffidence 
 that so much ardour in your protestations 
 compelled me to assume, since it would seem 
 you accounted me so easily to be won that 
 you had only to profess love to be accepted. 
 I have ever been taught, that the ^-- -J^afFec- 
 
 "f 
 
I HI'i 
 
 '!ir 
 
 18 
 
 THE WAHWlFii. 
 
 tion was seJf-denial ; but tliut, no doubt, was 
 in the olden time, when ladies had no cause 
 to question the truth and fealty of their 
 knights." 
 
 " The King, Lady SibiJla," replied Stuart, 
 advancing towards her, " has ordered all his 
 friends now in Edinburgh to be ready to ad- 
 vance with him to the north. I deplore the 
 service he has called me to, but loyalty and 
 knighthood claim my attendance.'' 
 
 " And justly," said Sibilla ; « it would be 
 a strange thing if you should not be found 
 by the King's side in danger. The Earl of 
 Athol is now too old a man to endure the 
 hardships of the field, else, as present heir to 
 the crown, he should be at his Majesty's right 
 hand,— but you are next to him, being heir 
 to the Earl, and the evil-tonffued world mio-ht 
 think, were y(^u not to be with the King, 
 that some sir'sier ait.ction towards the succes- 
 sion governed your loyalty." 
 
 " I never thought of such opinions," re- 
 
THE S^^AEWIFE. 
 
 no doubt, was 
 had no cause 
 alty of their 
 
 eplied Stuart, 
 •rdereH all his 
 ' ready to acl- 
 1 deplore the 
 t loyalty and 
 
 19 
 
 M 
 
 * it would be 
 not be found 
 
 The Earl of 
 ) endure the 
 resent heir to 
 ajesty's right 
 1, being heir 
 
 world might 
 h the King, 
 Is the succes- 
 
 I 
 
 w 
 
 pinions, ' re 
 
 pli d Stuart; "I was commanded, and I 
 obeyed ; and glad I am, Lady Sibilla, in hav- 
 ing done so, as it must prove to you, as well 
 as to all men, that my loyalty is not blemish- 
 ed by any sordid respect for my own particu- 
 lar advantage ; but I grieve almost to weep- 
 ing, tliat the service I am called to is against 
 your father." 
 
 " Verily, it is indeed, my Lord,'' said the 
 lady; <* a strange way to thrive in your woo- 
 mg with a daughter, to go to war so gallant- 
 ly against her father." 
 
 " If you will but say that you wish I 
 should not go, I will brave the King's dis- 
 pleasure, and even the contumelious opinion 
 of the world, by remaining with you." 
 
 " Lord Robert Stuart !" exclaimed Sibilla 
 haughtily, « let me end this vain importu- 
 nity. I was, I am betrothed to the Lord 
 James, your cousin ;— when he was but third 
 son to the Duke his father, and his two 
 princely brothers stood between him and all 
 
20 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 chance of succeeding to the throne, I was al- 
 lured even then, by the ambition of my own 
 heart, to entertain his suit with a willing af- 
 fection. Think you that now, when he is 
 with my father, and next of kin to ihe crown, 
 and the chance of being king hanging on the 
 event of a battle, that I will hearken to the 
 protestations of any meaner lover ?" 
 
 Scuart stepped back a pace, astonished at 
 so unmaidenly a speech, and for a moment 
 thought her peerless beauty overcast with a 
 sullen cloud, the shadow whereof fell upcm 
 his heart with a cold and ungenial darkness. 
 She looked at him, and, as if she repented of 
 being so harsh, she softened her accents, and 
 added — 
 
 " But, my Lord, this surely is no time to 
 lU'ge any protestation with me? I cannot 
 but know that the Kings's power is greater 
 than my father''s, and fear that I am destined 
 to endure for him a keener sorrow than I 
 have even suff'ered for the unfortunate family 
 
I was al- 
 f my own 
 willing af- 
 hen he is 
 .he crown, 
 ing; on the 
 ken to the 
 
 Dnished at 
 a moment 
 ast with a 
 fell upon 
 darkness, 
 epcnted of 
 ;cents, and 
 
 no time to 
 I caimot 
 is greater 
 11 destined 
 3W than I 
 late family 
 
 THE SPAEM'IFE. 
 
 21 
 
 of Albany. Nor can I conceal from myself, 
 that perhaps my own fate is involved with 
 my father's— what the king will do, if by the 
 chance of war he is thrown into his handsj 
 requires no seer to foretell ; and then shall 
 I abide here, in the hateful servitude of ho- 
 nouring the destroyer of my father and so 
 many friends."" 
 
 '* Heavens ! Lady,'' cried Stuart, " what 
 dreadful task would you lay upon me ?" 
 
 *' On you, my Lord, I would lay none ;— 
 what are you to me ? It is true, a professed 
 lover ; but in that respect you boast no 
 better claim (o a return, than the basest hind 
 that might dare to affect a similar passion." 
 
 " Would it please you then, were I to ask 
 the King's leave to stay behind ?" 
 
 " You have urged as much before ; — can 
 you doubt that I do not desire the ruin of 
 my father .?•" 
 
 " But if he succeed in his rebellion, what 
 may ensue ?''' 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 <* That may not be answered, — but the 
 Lord James it is said is with him, and doubt- 
 less he counts, at least in the event of suc- 
 cess, on our union. What other advantage 
 may ensue it were not wise of me even to 
 imagine.'' 
 
 Stuart cast down his eyes, and touched 
 his forehead with his hand thoughtfully. 
 Sibilla looked at him with a watchful and 
 inquisitorial eye, and then said — 
 
 I beseech you to bear in mind that I am 
 a daughter, trembling for the fate of my fa- 
 ther, and in no condition to speak with tem- 
 perance of the dangers that impend over 
 him. I think but of my father— all other 
 cares and thoughts, however dear, are locked 
 up in my heart, and shall have no license to 
 mingle with my feelings, till he is safe." 
 
 At these words she burst into tears, and 
 cried passionately aloud, " I shall not out- 
 live another tragedy on the hill of Stirling." 
 '* While they were thus vehemently dis- 
 
 ,\, 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 9S 
 
 coursing, the King himself came into the 
 gallery, and seeing them together, stepped 
 eagerly towards them ; but Sibilla, hearing 
 steps approaching, looked quickly round, and 
 on seeing his Majesty, gathered up her robe 
 abruptly, and darted away. 
 
£4 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 When the King saw that the Lady Sibilla 
 desired to avoid his presence, he abated his 
 speed, and walked leisurely towards Stuart, 
 who at the same time advanced to meet 
 him. 
 
 *' I should," said his Majesty, in a grave 
 but jocular manner, " have laid my interdict 
 at this time on our fair and eloquent cousin ; 
 for I doubt not, that, if she is permitted to be 
 at large among our friends, she will achieve 
 as good as a victory for her father before we 
 march. But, Stuart, as I doubt not some 
 such event was the endeavour of her discourse 
 with you, I shall not repine, if, on conditions, 
 you submit to abide her prisoner." 
 
 " I have now no hope," replied Stuart, 
 " that she will ever consent to be mine." 
 
 7 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. gg 
 
 " "'"^■'" «^"» the King; « what new 
 thing has come to pass, to make you think 
 
 so?" 
 
 " It is not in my power to show, by any 
 act or deed, that my proffered affection is of 
 that purity which the cruelty of ladies in these 
 times requires to be avouched by proof and 
 sacrifice. The time was, as I have heard say 
 that ladies were to be won by the gentle sym! 
 ^ pathy of heaven-inspired love, but the Lady 
 I sibiUa would inflict tests." 
 
 « Let her have none, cousin," replied the 
 
 Kmg;" for if she be such a bargainer, beshrew 
 me If she ,s worth the having. But truly, of 
 late, she hath been an altered creature in her 
 'l-eanour, and no more like the gay and 
 blooming rose she once was, than the root is like 
 the flover." And his Majesty added, with a 
 slight inflection of sadness in his voice, « yet 
 
 '''°rr'"'''""*^"»"'-'''^"'Ihad 
 hope by this time that your lowly servitude 
 would have earned some httle grace at her 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 fi 
 
I kllliU 
 
 25 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 hands. To what tests would she subject 
 
 
 ?" 
 
 you-" 
 
 " Such as honour and knighthood will not 
 permit ; she would have me to forego the du- 
 ties of my loyalty and allegiance." 
 
 « I thought so-and verily, it is but an un- 
 civil way of thriving in a lady's love to fight 
 with her father. However, Stuart, as I have 
 said, if by remaining here you may hope to 
 prosper in your suit, I give you free leave." 
 
 « By that your Majesty only augments the 
 strength of the motive which obliges me to 
 go "if I felt that I could not, without a sa- 
 crifice of honour and a blemi ' to knight- 
 hood, remain behind, how .an I do so, when 
 to the claims of allegiance, honour, propm- 
 quity, and knighthood, your Majesty adds 
 the stronger tie of gratitude for such a 
 gracious disposition to advance my happi- 
 
 iiess ? 
 
 "I see not the matter in that light," re- 
 plied the King, as if he pondered with him- 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 27 
 
 I 
 
 r 
 
 IT 
 
 self. " I alone have a right to your service 
 — and if it stand with my pleasure and con- 
 venience to say you shall abide here, I see 
 not what cause either honour, knighthood, 
 propinquity, or loyalty, have to remonstrate 
 against your obedience to the command." 
 
 " It is rumoured, that the Lord James of 
 Albany is with Macdonald," said Stuart. 
 
 " What then ? what of that ? I should 
 thmk it a reason why you ought the more to 
 remain with Sibilla, as her affection for him is 
 the greatest impediment to your suit."" 
 
 " I doubt," replied Stuart, « if it is so 
 much her affection as her ambition, and it is 
 that which makes me despair of ever succeed- 
 ing; but just now, she plainly told me, that she 
 considered him dearer than ever, since, by the 
 fate of his father and brothers, he stood so 
 much nearer to the crown." 
 
 " Can she be so sordid ?" exclaimed the 
 King ; " then is there no faithful love in wo- 
 mankind ; for of all ladies I have ever seen, 
 
gg THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 I did think Sibilla Macdonald the most ro- 
 mantic in her attachment; besides, his sen- 
 tence of outlawry and forfeiture has cut him 
 off from the succession. But, how is it that 
 all of you seem so to count upon an early death 
 for me ? Is not our turbulent cousin my 
 senior? and I surely am not so much older 
 than yourself, Stuart, that you should be 
 reckoned my successor, to say nothing of the 
 present maternal condition of the Queen." 
 
 His Majesty said this in a sharp objurgato- 
 ry manner ; then, speedily recovering his wont- 
 ed urbanity, he added, " But after .11, Stuart 
 not to make too much ado about who shall 
 have his head bound with a wreath of briers, 
 as thi. very conversation of ours sufficiently 
 shows the crown to be, I think you ought to 
 remain. If love be not the entire sentiment 
 that binds Sibilla to the outlaw, we can hard- 
 ly question that ambition is not the sole mo- 
 tive which makes her father espouse his for- 
 tunes ; and therefore, were you to remain 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 most ro- 
 his sen- 
 5 cut hini 
 is it that 
 irly death 
 ousin my 
 uch older 
 should be 
 ing of the 
 
 •n 
 
 lueen. 
 objurgato- 
 ighiswont- 
 d\, Stuart, 
 t who shall 
 ti of briers, 
 sufficiently 
 )U ought to 
 e sentiment 
 re can hard- 
 the sole mo- 
 mse his for- 
 1 to remain 
 
 ■I 
 
 
 
 'f 
 
 behind, upon the pretext and plea of your 
 devotion to Sibilla, perhaps, out of the policy 
 of that devic?, some way might be found so 
 to work on the avarice of Macdonald, as to 
 make him abandon our guilty cousin to his 
 own destiny ; — without, therefore, entering 
 more curiously into your particular case, I 
 lay my commands upon you to abide here 
 with the Queen and her ladies, and it shall be 
 made known that I have done so, because of 
 your love and devotion for the daughter of 
 the rebellious chieftain, things as familiar as 
 scandal to every tongue in the court." 
 
 Stuart would have a second time solicited 
 his Majesty not so to restrain him from tak- 
 ing the field, albeit in his heart none dissatis- 
 fied that he had been so peremptory ; but 
 the King said with a smile, '« Honour, knight- 
 hood, propinquity, and loyalty, must now 
 hush their remonstrances, and prove them- 
 selves the soldiers and vassals of obedience. 
 Your post and duty in the war is here in 
 
li* ■' 
 
 30 
 
 THE SP.^EWIFE. 
 
 Holyrood-house.'^ And with these words he 
 parted from h.m, leaving him in the middle of 
 the allery, where he stood ruminating for 
 some time ; in which situation he was found hy 
 the Earl of Athol, as that nobleman came with 
 Sir William Chrichton, and others in the 
 King's confidence, to attend the council. 
 
 « What has befallen you ?'' said the Earl 
 to him, pausing as he passed leaning on the 
 arm of Sir William Chrichton, the others 
 with them passing on to the council-cham- 
 ber. 
 
 " His Majesty," replied Stuart, " has dealt 
 unkindly by me. He denies me the honour 
 of going with him against Macdonald, and 
 enjoins me to remain here." 
 
 The Earl of Athol, somewhat surprised to 
 hear this, dropped his hold of the Chancellor's 
 arm, as he said — 
 
 «' Why has his Majesty done so ? Did he 
 
 assign no reason ?" 
 
 Sir William Chrichton looked observantly 
 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 31 
 
 ords he 
 liddle of 
 ting for 
 bund by 
 ime with 
 in the 
 icil. 
 
 the Earl 
 T on the 
 e others 
 cil-cham- 
 
 has dealt 
 e honour 
 laid, and 
 
 •prised to 
 lancellor's 
 
 at the Earl while he said this ; for there was a 
 degree of haste and anxiety, in the manner of 
 his question, which struck him both as strange 
 and singular. 
 
 " He thinks,'' replied Stuart, " that, con- 
 sidering how openly I have professed myself 
 to the Lady Sibilla, it would not accord well 
 with that profession to be engaged in adven- 
 tures of warfare against her father. 
 
 " Then it was not," said the Earl, inter- 
 rupting him, " out of respect to the relation- 
 ship in which you stand to the succession .?" 
 
 " I doubt not," interposed Sir William 
 Chrichton, " that his Majesty has determined 
 wisely in this matter, though he may not have 
 been governed by any regard to the succes- 
 sion — especially as the Queen has declared 
 herself in the honoured condition of increas- 
 ing their happiness." 
 
 " How !" exclaimed the Earl, with a look 
 in which there was much of the eagerness of 
 alarm ; " is it as you say ? When did the Queen 
 
32 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 ■ H 
 
 announce it ? I have not heard of it before. 
 It surprises me to hear at this time of such 
 an event.'' 
 
 " The King himself told me," said Stuart. 
 «* Then it is true," replied the Earl, ad- 
 dressing himself to Sir William Chrichton ; 
 ** why should an occurrence so interesting to 
 me have been concealed from me P" 
 
 " There is no concealment," said the Cham- 
 berlain; " not many minutes have passed 
 since I heard it. It has been believed for 
 some time, but not declared till this morn- 
 ing." 
 
 " Should the birth prove a daughter, of 
 course she will succeed if she outlive her fa- 
 ther. No change was made in the order of 
 succession with respect to females by my fa- 
 ther's settlement. It is very odd — I cannot 
 think how it may be consistent with what I 
 liave been told." 
 
 " What have you been told, my Lord .?" 
 said Sir William Chrichton, looking with some 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 33 
 
 le Cham- 
 3 passed 
 eved for 
 is morn- 
 
 ^hter, of 
 her fa- 
 Drder of 
 f my fa- 
 ' cannot 
 what I 
 
 Lord ?" 
 ith some 
 
 '■f^'C 
 
 degree of amaze at the voice and manner with 
 which Lord Athol spoke ; but the question, 
 instead of obtaining an answer, recalled the 
 Earl to himself, and he rejoined— 
 
 ** The news cannot fail to he joyful to the 
 kingdom, at a time when the minds of many 
 are disturbed with doubts respecting the suc- 
 cession ; for there are those who think, that no 
 sentence of outlawry or forfeiture can attaint 
 the right to the crown, and that James of Al- 
 bany must of necessity succeed, were the 
 throne to become vacant, even though no re- 
 versal of his attainder were to take place ; so 
 much does the royal dignity itself transcend 
 all procef 'in^s that have issued from its own 
 processes." 
 
 " I had not heard,'' replied the Chancellor 
 sedately, « that there was any such question- 
 ing or controversy on the subject among the 
 people. But I am not surprised that you, 
 my Lord, should be somewhat affected by 
 these things, considering how very nearly 
 
 B 2 
 
iWMIHIM 
 
 M 'J 
 
 i34 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 they touch upon your own immediate con- 
 dition." 
 
 " It cannot be," said the Earl, " that Sir 
 William Chrichton thinks I would, for any 
 affection of my own, take more heed of those 
 things than becomes a faithful subject and a 
 true counsellor. All the world knows, that 
 I am a man far declined into the vale of 
 years, and, by course of nature, cannot look 
 to outlive the King, whom Heaven preserve 
 in long life to administer the affairs of this 
 poor country with great increase of prospe- 
 rity to her people, and imperishable renown 
 to himself But to Stuart there, the Issue 
 of the Queen's maternity may be considered 
 as a blight and disappointment ; for I ques- 
 tion not, that, like other young men, he has 
 nourished the vanity of high chances, and 
 may have counted something on his near re- 
 lationship to the crown." 
 
 " His Majesty," interposed Stuart, " ob- 
 served to me, that it was a strange thing 
 
I 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 35 
 
 ite con- 
 that Sir 
 for any 
 of those 
 3t and a 
 ws, that 
 vale of 
 not look 
 preserve 
 i of this 
 prospe- 
 renown 
 lie issue 
 nsidered 
 I ques- 
 , he has 
 3es, and 
 near re- 
 
 ;, « ob- 
 je thing 
 
 so many should regard him as fated to die 
 early, and be even cogitating of the succes- 
 sion." 
 
 " Think you, Sir William Chrichton, that 
 there is any thing in such forebodings ?" said 
 the Earl. 
 
 The Chancellor smiled, and, looking sharp- 
 ly, replied, " You do not think so, my Lord, 
 for I have heard you repeatedly deride all 
 prognostications as vain superstition. But 
 our time is up, and his Majesty will present- 
 ly be in the council-chamber." 
 
 With which words they departed ; the Earl 
 and the Chancellor walking up the gallery 
 to the door by which the King had retired, 
 and Stuart, slowly and thoughtfully, passing 
 to the stairs which led down into the court 
 below, where many young knights and gal- 
 lants were assembled, armed and feathered 
 for the expedition, all eager and glorying 
 in their might and manhood, like eaglets in 
 the morning, when they stand on the brink of 
 

 I i 
 
 86 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 their eyries, champing their beaks and flap- 
 ping their pinions, impatient for the sun, that 
 they may swoop to their quarry. 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 37 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 ,'M 
 
 Among other events that came to pass, about 
 the epoch of these things whereof recital has 
 been made, was the voluntary departure of 
 the disconsolate Duchess of Albany from 
 Tantallon, to the summer lodge on Inch- 
 murrin in Lochlomond, the only pendicle 
 that she could be moved to accept of all the 
 princely earldom of her ancestors. There, 
 with the aged Lady Glenjuckie, who had 
 come with her from Falkland and patiently 
 partaken of her captivity and sorrow, she 
 was minded to pass the mournful remainder 
 of her days, like some sequestered nun, de- 
 voted to abstinence and mourning. 
 
 By the King's preparations to suppress 
 the rebellion of Macdonald, of whose en- 
 terprise she had heard the rumour, though 
 
il:i 
 
 38 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 % 
 
 \i' 
 
 Itt 
 
 not of licr son the Lord James being with 
 him, her journey to Lennox was rendered 
 slow and tardy ; for horses were difficult to 
 be had, save such as were accounted of no 
 worth either for road or raid ; and her vener- 
 able gentlewoman, being afflicted with a sci- 
 atica, could not abide the oscillations of any 
 other carriage than a litter. On the morn- 
 ing, however, of the ninth day of her depar- 
 ture from Tantallon, the Duchess reached the 
 margent of the lake, having travelled all the 
 preceding night by a lone and moorland 
 path, that she might eschew the dismal sight 
 of the towers of Stirling, near to which she 
 was constrained to pass, by reason of the 
 great lack of horses in the towns and hostels 
 on the roads. 
 
 When she had reached the place where 
 she intended to embark, no boat was at hand, 
 and she was, in consequence, obligated to 
 remain on the shore till a messenger could 
 procure one from some distance. Fain would 
 
 m 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 99 
 
 Leddy Glenjuckie have persuaded her to go to 
 die Castle of Balloch, and to take up her 
 abode there for a season ; but the Duchess 
 remembered that it was the scene of her 
 joyful childhood, and a woful train of terri- 
 ble reminiscences, that came with the thought 
 of what had befallen her since she had left 
 it, caused her tears to flow. The anguish 
 of that grief, however, soon subsided into 
 the melancholy calm which had become al- 
 most the habitude of her mind, and she sat 
 down on a rock close by the brim of the lake, 
 and, resting her cheek on her hand, awaited 
 the return of her errander. There was in- 
 deed a soft and consolatory spirit abroad over 
 all nature at that time, and its soundless 
 tranquillity was in unison with the medita- 
 tions of the weary heart. 
 
 The day was grey, still, sober, and mild, 
 without sunshine or shower ; — the winds were 
 asleep, and almost also the waters ; — the birds 
 were mute, but not with suUenness, and they 
 
40 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 i 
 
 shook the crystalhne drops from the im- 
 pearled leaves, as they busily pruned their 
 wines, like gentle villagers preparing for 
 di; ' f n the holiness of the Sabbath morn- 
 ing. The skies were not darkened with any 
 cloud, but the mountain tops were hid in 
 a resting mist, that hung like a canopy, 
 lowered almost to the tufty hills of the little 
 islands in the lake. It was a morning, when 
 the lowing of cows and the bleating of lambs 
 heard afar off, mingling with the bark of the 
 shepherd's dog, seem tuned and musical ; — 
 when doves coo on the window-sills of the so- 
 litary maiden, who never listened to any other 
 note of love, and who feeds them with crumbs 
 treasured from her frugal supper;— when 
 daisies lift not their golden eyes, but hang 
 their heads, as if drowsy with some delicious 
 excess;— when bees pass from bloom to bios- 
 som in silence ;— when the dumb butterfly, 
 that never spreads his wing but to the sun, 
 rests as quiet as the pea-flower on its stalk 
 
 5 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 41 
 
 he im- 
 1 their 
 ng for 
 I morn- 
 ith any 
 
 hid in 
 canopy, 
 le little 
 y, when 
 f lambs 
 c of the 
 sical ; — 
 fthe So- 
 ny other 
 
 crumbs 
 ; — when 
 ut hang 
 ielicious 
 
 to bios- 
 lutterfly, 
 the sun, 
 its stalk 
 
 
 under the leaf that he has made his canopy ; 
 — and when the voiceless snail, in his satin 
 doublet, stretches his eyehorns from side to 
 side on the dewy sward, as if he wist not 
 where to taste first, like a sable-vestured 
 clerk at a banquet: in sooth, a season of 
 quietude and calm, when wary grimalkin, look- 
 ing out at the cottage door, and fain to pass 
 to her lair beneath the bushes, often puts 
 forth her foot to feel if indeed the soft air be 
 too moist for her furred delicacy. 
 
 '* Sowlls and podies ! will it pe te Laidie 
 Tooches. And is't a to-be-surely that ye'U 
 pe a coose o** te water, sitting on te stone 
 ai py yoursel lanerly, mi Laidie Tooches — 
 Oomph." 
 
 The Duchess, surprised by this salutation, 
 rose suddenly, and on looking, beheld Glenfru- 
 in and several of his clansmen, who had come 
 out of a birch and hazel wood that fringed 
 the border of the lake, close to the spot 
 where she was sitting. 
 
-if 
 
 42 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 J I t 
 
 'I 
 
 Her Grace had known him in her youth, 
 and she recognised his clansmen by their tar- 
 tan ; but their appearance at that time, and 
 the salutation of Glenfruin, whom she quickly 
 recollected could not know her person so as 
 to justify the wonder he affected at seeing her 
 there, caused her to suspect, from his notour 
 character, that he had come for no good. 
 She, however, at once addressed him by name, 
 and begged that he would send some of his 
 men to assist the person whom she had al- 
 ready missioned to procure a boat to carry 
 her to the island. 
 
 *' And we will pe tooing tat, curse taik me 
 put we will, my Laidie Tooches," rephed 
 Glenfruin; " and te laad Nigel, hur nain 
 lawful pegotten, a praw craiter is te laad 
 Nigel ; will na he pring te boat frae te ferry, 
 —oomph. Put, sowUs and podies ! mi Laidie 
 Tooches, and what for pe your Grace come 
 here ? Ah, te King's judifications !— oomph. 
 Aye, aye, mi Laidie Tooches, tere pe te cold 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 4d 
 
 youth, ! 
 
 m 
 
 iiT tar- 
 
 m 
 
 e, and 
 
 ^4 
 
 quickly 
 
 
 n so as 
 
 
 ing her 
 
 HI 
 
 notour 
 
 B 
 
 good. 
 
 1 
 
 / name, 
 
 B 
 
 of his 
 
 B 
 
 had al- 
 
 B 
 
 carry 
 
 1 
 
 taik me 
 
 1 
 
 rephed 
 
 1 
 
 Lir nain 
 
 m 
 
 te laad 
 
 1 
 
 ;e ferry, A 
 
 i Laidie S 
 
 ce come fl 
 
 -oomph. fl 
 
 1 te cold 1 
 
 
 '1 
 
 hearth in te towers o' Palloch tis plesset morn- 
 ing. — Ye'll no pe a travel tere ?" 
 
 While Glenfruin was thus rasping the 
 quickened griefs of the Duchess, the sound 
 of oars was heard approaching, and soon 
 a large and lumbering black boat, wherein 
 stood his son together with her Grace's er- 
 rander, was thereafter seen coming from be- 
 hind the boughs of the adjacent birch and 
 
 hazel. 
 
 " Pe pleasured, mi Laidie Tooches, to 
 make your commodity in te poat. Nigel, I 
 say Nigel, ye ashypet teevil, will ye no pe 
 spreading your plaid for her Grace, and tis 
 oold madam, her maiden ?" 
 
 The young chieftain instantly took off 
 his plaid, and spread it for their reception, 
 while his father, brushing the grass with his 
 bonnet, went bowing towards the Duchess 
 to assist her into the boat. 
 
 Misfortune had so subdued her Grace's 
 mmd, as almost to extinguish every appre- 
 
I 
 
 44 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 hension of personal danger; and perhaps 
 she would, without hesitation, have allowed 
 Glenfruin to place her aboard, but for the 
 Leddy Glenjuckie, who had hitherto stood 
 marvelhng and mute, exclaiming-— 
 
 " But shall we be taken to Inchmurrin ?'' 
 
 " Py and py, in te coote time, mi laidie 
 madam — Oomph ! But her Grace will pe plea- 
 sured to come first wi me on a veesitation to 
 the shieling of Glenfruin — caz you see, mi 
 Laidie Tooches, tat ter pe ploody repellions o^ 
 te Mactonald and te Lord Hamies, wha pe 
 come hame frae te outlaw, for a tribulation — 
 Put te King — Oomph. 
 
 " Alas !" cried the Duchess, clasping her 
 hands and casting her eyes hopelessly to 
 heaven, " and is my son embarked with the 
 rash Macdonald in his wild enterprise ?'' 
 
 Youns: Glenfruin, from the moment that 
 he beheld her Grrace, was touched with admi- 
 ration and awe ; and seeing her tears faUing, 
 and her august struggle to control her renew- 
 
THK SPAEWIFE. 
 
 45 
 
 her 
 
 ed sorrow, spoke apnrt to bis father, but t}ie 
 (loure old man knit his brows and shook his 
 head, saying — 
 
 " Sowlls and podies ! and what would te 
 King speech, if te pird in te air or te adver- 
 sities o' Gknfruin were to tell him in his 
 preevy counsel?— Oomph. When she'll pe 
 come here, sowlls and podies, is't no a sun and 
 tay-light ! — to mak a repellion in Lennox — 
 Oomph ? Te sheep and te cow pe te wisdom 
 creatures, Nigel. Gof s curse, Nigel Glen- 
 fruin, you peast. — Oomph. 
 
 The Duchess soon discerned, by what slie 
 overheard of their discourse, that Glenfruin 
 had made her his prisoner; — and her gentle- 
 woman began to make audible lament at this 
 new misfortune, and to bewail the mischance 
 which had thrown them into such rude custo- 
 dy, till her mistress chided her unavailing and 
 bootless complaint, by saying— 
 
 " We are in your power, Glenfruin ; two 
 poor old defenceless women, with these few 
 
46 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 
 simple and unarmed serving-men ; we could 
 make no resistance to your force were we 
 even so minded. Help me into the boat ; and, 
 I pray you, let your men be gentle with my 
 aged friend there. Alas ! it was not so that 
 I thought her old age would have passed with 
 me. But it doth please the irresponsible 
 Heavens, to fill my cup with salt, salt tears. 
 There is, however, a sweet mercy in store, 
 that, I trust, will hereafter make me forget 
 the bitterness of my earthly fortune." 
 
 Glenfruin, with ^jme endeavour at cour- 
 tesy, proffered his arm to the Duchess; where- 
 upon his son, beckoning to one of the men to 
 draw near, went with tenderness to the afflict- 
 ed Lady Glenjuckie, and invited her to lean 
 upon them as she stepped from the rock into 
 
 the boat. 
 
 " Laads,'' said Glenfruin to the menials 
 who had come with the Duchess, and who 
 were still standing beside their horses, " ye'U 
 pe pringing toon to te poat a) te lappetrics o' 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 47 
 
 te Laidie Tooches, and yc'll be o' a discretion 
 wi tc horses to te Glenfruins — so we'll let you 
 depart wi' a civility. — Oomph."" 
 
 The serving-men, when they saw their 
 mistress and the lady seated in the boat, 
 looked at one another, and all suddenly, with 
 one accord, vaulted into the saddles and gal- 
 loped away. 
 
 " Sowlls and podies,*" cried Glenfruin, ris- 
 ing, and looking at the speed with which they 
 scoured along the hill-side. " Got's curse ! 
 Oomph." He then sat down beside the 
 Duchess ; for seeing it was impossible to over- 
 take the fugitives, he submitted to the disap- 
 pointment, and calmly ordered the boatmen 
 to push off from the shore. 
 
48 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 CHAP, V. 
 
 While the realm was shaken by the rumours 
 and tidings, that came hourly rushing from 
 Inverness concerning the rebellion of the Lord 
 of the Isles, Sir Robert Gramme, who, on his 
 banishment, had, instead of going forth the 
 kingdom, taken refuge among the wilds and 
 fastnesses of Perthshire, on hearing what had 
 happened, went to join the rebels, and reach- 
 ed the tent of Macdonald on the evening of 
 the day on which the rews arrived of the 
 King's approach, and of the young Lord Ro- 
 bert Stuart having remained at the court, be- 
 cause of the marriage which his Majesty had 
 settled to take place between him and the 
 Lady Sibilla. 
 
 There, when he entered, he found Macdo- 
 nald and the Lord James in an eager and sharp 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 49 
 
 controversy. The Lord of the Isles being 
 seemingly much moved and disturbed by the 
 report of the great force which the King was 
 bringing against them, while the friendless 
 outlaw suspected that he was only desirous of 
 a pretext to return home, because of the ru- 
 moured match which had been formed for his 
 daughter,--the which match, considering the 
 then forlorn condition of her first lover, was 
 plain, to all capacities, a thing which the Mac- 
 donald would likely approve and prefer. 
 
 Accordingly, after the first salutations and 
 welcomings were over, they addressed them- 
 selves to Graeme as an umpire in their debate, 
 the Lord James beginning by inquiring, if hi 
 had, in the course of his journey, heard any 
 account of the army which the King was 
 bringing. « We are told," said he, " that 
 it trebles ours, and Macdonald has become 
 afraid, and thinks we ought to retreat.^' 
 
 " I wish, my Lord," interrupted the chief- 
 tain, « that you would measure your words 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
I' ft; 
 
 m 
 
 r,\. 
 
 50 THE SPAiiWIFE. 
 
 more according to the meaning of your 
 mind. I am not afraid,— but seeing how 
 slenderly we are supported, and the little dis- 
 position shewn by any of the old friends of 
 the Albanies to take part with us, I doubt if 
 it be wise to wait till King James come up." 
 " There are no such men as friends of 
 the Albanies in Scotland," rephed Gr^me, 
 sternly, remembering in what manner they 
 had failed and faltered when he laid violent 
 hands on the King in parliament :— " Every 
 one now seeks his own particular advantage, 
 and not the least grievance of the parchment 
 laws of our English tyrant, for I account him 
 no Scot albeit he was born in the land, is that 
 they supersede the virtue of standing by one 
 another, and reducing us all to be the thralls 
 of his judicatory and officers." 
 
 u You speak worthily. Sir Robert," said the 
 Lord James, " and it was to restore the liber- 
 ties of former times that Macdonald took up 
 arms ; but since he heard that his faithless 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 51 
 
 daughter is to be wedded to Stuart, whose 
 chance of inheriting the crown he accounts 
 better than an outlaw's, he sees the King's 
 forces through the mist, and would persuade 
 me that they are all giants, which he dare 
 not encounter." 
 
 " I beseech you both," exclaimed Gr^me, 
 
 to sp these revilings._rt„,,be discreet, 
 7 I'-d. "Ot to adventure too much at this 
 
 ■me; a retreat is sometimes better than a Vic 
 
 tory -and since you have been so balked in 
 
 he hopes you had formed of those who were 
 
 he f ds „f your family,_friends, while it 
 ada th „^;,^^_^^^^^^^^^^ 
 
 m Macdonald avoiding the Kinc^o 
 
 -o-.po.ng that\e is twi: S 
 hy any sm,ster consideration on his daughter's 
 
 c ared rebel, and when you think of the fate 
 
 f your own house, you cannot but know tt 
 the rem.ss,on of his offence will „ever b 
 granted by King Ja„,es." ' 
 
52 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 Macdonald, during this speech, drew him- 
 self back from the hght that was on the table 
 before them, and, folding his arms, listened 
 as an auditor who had no part in their collo- 
 quy, but with gathered brows and scowling 
 eyes,— which shewed how deeply it shook his 
 
 spirit. 
 
 '' It is reported," replied the Lord James 
 to Graeme, when he paused, '' that the King 
 has abated in his severity, -and, indeed, you 
 are yourself, after wnat you attempted, evi- 
 dence of the truth of the report."' 
 
 '' How !" cried Graeme, with a hoarse and 
 wrathful voice, of which however the rage was 
 rather the expression of some agency of the 
 memory than of anger at the young Lord ; 
 " call ye it an abatement of severity, to be 
 degraded below the basest condition of man ? 
 To live the life of a hunted beast, that hears, 
 in every rustle of the bramble-bush where he 
 couches, the dogs of his pursuer. Recollect 
 what I was, and think what I am now !-I am 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 53 
 
 here as a skulking and companionless poach- 
 er,— call you that to me an abatement of se- 
 venty ? The time was, when only my whistle 
 could, hke the invocation of a wizard, change 
 the heather and the fern into crested warriors ; 
 but the mocking of the invisible echo is all 
 the answer that I should now receive, if I 
 were to venture, on the hills that were my own, 
 to try the sound of my voice !" 
 
 " If;' said the Lord James, looking round 
 to Macdonald,^- if the Lord of the Isles can 
 endure to be such a thing, let him make his 
 peace when he pleases with the King. I 
 have no claim upon his friendship,— Sibilla's 
 faithlessness has dissolved our league.'' 
 
 " Your own taunts, my Lord, have done 
 so,'' exclaimed Macdonald, rising with scorn 
 on his lips, and quitting the tent. The Lord 
 James, resenting the manner of his look, laid 
 his hand on the hilt of his dagger; but Gr^me 
 caught him firmly by the wrist, and said- 
 " ^' '' ^^"' ^3^ quarrelling with your friend. 
 
54 
 
 THE SPAEWIFfi. 
 
 1'' ' 
 
 that you hope to avenge your wrongs. But 
 come, we are both too Jong here, — Macdo- 
 nald's enterprise is plainly at an end,— and 
 though, as his guests, we may be safe, yet if 
 it be that he wishes to make his peace with 
 the King, who knows in what way he may be 
 worked upon to give us up.'* 
 
 The Lord James felt the full force of what 
 Gra?me meant to convey, and quitting his 
 seat hastily, they left the tent together, and 
 made for the hills. They had not, however, 
 proceeded far, when the young Lord began 
 to repine at his precipitation, and his uncour- 
 teous manner of thus abandoning several brave 
 gentlemen who had joined the Macdonald 
 with their clansmen on his own account, and 
 he urged Graeme to return with him, that he 
 might take such leave of them as their spirit 
 and devotion to his cause deserved, or perhaps 
 induce them still to adhere to his desperate 
 fortunes. 
 
 Graeme, however, strongly remonstrated 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 55 
 
 against this disposition. " If hereafter," said 
 he, « circumstances arise wherein you may 
 ask again their service, the equivocal conduct 
 of Macdonald will serve as a good excuse for 
 your unceremonious departure to-night. But 
 It were to throw yoqrself into the very teeth 
 of destruction, after having come away, leav- 
 ing Macdonald in the temper we did, were we 
 to return into his power. It may be, that he 
 truly is disposed to make his peace with the 
 King on account of this new match for his 
 daughter ; if so, then you may rely upon it, 
 you were no sooner beyond the circle of his 
 encampment, than his hospitality ended, and 
 orders given to consider you as his enemy." 
 
 While they were thus discoursing, some- 
 times halting and looking behind, they reach- 
 ed the brow of a steep bank, shaggy with 
 brushes and brambles. The night was far ad- 
 vanced, but the stars so shone out, that the 
 dark outlines of the ruins of the town were vi- 
 sible below, amidst which a few feeble lights. 
 
> i 
 
 56 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 ilii 
 
 as ineffectual as the lamps of the glow-worms, 
 were seen here and there sprinkled. The 
 castle, in the sullenness of its strength, rose 
 gloomily in the distance, and the bartizans 
 and battlements of the towers seemed, by the 
 upcast glare of the camp-fires of the besiegers, 
 like the frowning eyes and gathered foreheads 
 of wrath, jealousy, and scorn. 
 
 It was a scene that well accorded with the 
 hostile spirit of Graeme, and he stopped to 
 look at it with a fierce enjoyment of malignant 
 satisfaction. 
 
 " Aye, ye may gloom and glower, Robin 
 Graeme," cried a voice at his feet from amidst 
 the bushes on the steep ; " but ye'll ne'er get 
 your will nor your dues, till you have hum- 
 bled yourself to your enemy." And with 
 these words the Spaewife scrambled up the 
 bank, and, with her rude staff in her arms, 
 stood before him. 
 
 " Anniple," said the Lord James to her, 
 for she was well known over all the country^ 
 
THE SPAEWIPE. 57 
 
 both in hall and hostel,—" where have you 
 
 ccme from to-night P" 
 
 " I have nothing to say nor to spae to you, 
 Lord James,— when the skein of your for- 
 tune's ravelled, ye'll hear tell o' me. Robin 
 Graeme, I redde ye to part frae him, or ye'll 
 wrang yourseP of what yeVe weel worthy, and 
 eke a marriage mar, — 
 
 '^ So come ye wi' me, and let him bide, 
 And think nae what shall then betide, 
 And ye'll blithen the heart o' a bonny bride, 
 That sighs in her bower alone, Robin." 
 
 Neither Graeme nor the Lord James had 
 any inordinate faith in freats ; but the veraci- 
 ty of Anniple's foreknowledge had gained 
 great renown far and near, and in that crisis 
 of their adventures, especially as they at the 
 time wist not well which way to take, they 
 were disposed to give her more credit than 
 perhaps they would have done on any other 
 occasion. 
 
 c 2 
 
■! • 
 
 ■I I 
 
 i ! 
 
 ^® THE SPAEWIFB. 
 
 ** Shall I then be sa^e to return to Inver- 
 ness,'' said the Lord James. 
 
 " If ye're to be hang't, my Lord, yell ne'er 
 be drown't," replied the Spaewife. 
 
 " But whither would ye, Anniple, that I 
 should go r interrupted Grseme. 
 
 " Up the hill, and down the hill, r.nd o'er 
 the water; and up the hill, and down the 
 hill, and o'er the water ; and up the hill, and 
 down the hill, and o'er the water ;— and there 
 ye'll meet wi' a man that has the key of a 
 castle,— 
 
 " And when in that keep ye're warded in, 
 Nor prince nor power m Christendie 
 Frae you that keep shall win." 
 
 " She promises you fair, Sir Robert," said 
 the Lord James ; " take her advice, and here 
 let us separate; for, notwithstanding Mac- 
 donald's sordid perfidy, I shall return to In- 
 verness, where I doubt not still to find 
 friends." 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 59 
 
 Graeme again attempted to dissuade him 
 from returning, and even began to jeer at 
 Anniple's predictions ; but she suddenly inter- 
 rupted him by laying her hand on his mouth, 
 saying, 
 
 " Hush ! I hear Macdonald breathing in 
 the wind,^Listen, hark, he's passing afar off 
 in the valley." 
 
 It was even so ; for, when the Lord James 
 went back to tiie camp, he was informed that 
 the chieftain had set off alone to throw him- 
 self on the King's mercy, and he found all 
 the clansmen preparing to retire to their re- 
 spective regions in the isles and among the 
 hills. Thus were his hopes again blasted, ' 
 while the anguish caused by the constancy of 
 his ill fortune was sharpened by the tliouo-ht 
 of Sibilla's broken faith. Meanwhile, Sir 
 Robert Graeme, pursuing his course south- 
 ward, parted from the Spaewife, who, as 
 her nature led, wandered purposeless away. 
 
60 
 
 THE SPAEWIFEv 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 Many things were in the meantime growing 
 to fruit at the Court, where the Lady Si- 
 billa, on parting from Stuart in the gallery, 
 as set forth, went straight to her aunt, the 
 Countess of Ross, and told her, that until 
 her father's enterprise was resolved and 
 determined, she would give no farther tend- 
 ance on the Queen. In vain did that discreet 
 lady exhort her to the contrary, and repre- 
 sent, that, by being in companionship with 
 her Majesty, she might find means and op. 
 portunities to mitigate the King's ire. But 
 Sibilla was not to be moved by any stress of 
 elocution, so that she continued to abide with 
 the Countess while the royal preparations for 
 the suppression of the rebellious raid were in 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 61 
 
 process, seldom appearing al)road but in a se. 
 questrated and lanerly manner. 
 
 It came however to pass that the King, 
 being instructed how none of the great barons 
 and chiefs of the nortli, of whose clans and 
 preparations he stood most in apprehension, 
 had joined the rebels, but that in many parts 
 where the Lord James and Macdonald count- 
 ed on friends, the only demo.istration made 
 was for the royal cause, his Majesty resolved 
 only to send forward the vanguard of his 
 power, and to direct the Lords and Earls on 
 whom he could rely, to repair to their castles, 
 and with their respective clans there await his 
 summons. Thus it happened that the Earl 
 of Athol went to his strong-hold in the Blair, 
 or plain of his country, and there arrived with 
 a great host of Highlanders, about the time 
 when Sir Robert Graeme, under the influence 
 and incitement of the Spaewife, bent his 
 course southward. But the young gallant, 
 his nephew, Stuart, went not with him, being, 
 
62 
 
 THE SPAEWIPE. 
 
 
 i' I) 
 
 in furtherance of the King's politic device, 
 
 detained at Edinburgh, nothing loath, in the 
 
 hope of acliieving the conquest of the Lady 
 
 Sibilla's true and invincible heart. In that 
 
 adventure, liowever, he made but small pro. 
 
 gress; for when, by the connivance of the 
 
 Countess of Ross, he sometimes gained access 
 
 to her otherwise inaccessible sequestration, 
 
 she gave little heed to his loving and fond 
 
 professions. 
 
 " You wage," said she to him one day, 
 " a bootless war with me. My heart is pledg- 
 ed to a prince of a royal nature and heroic 
 daring ;— to the heir of the kingdom, yea, to 
 the open challenger of the King, and think 
 you that I will stoop to hear the dainty pro- 
 testations of any meaner iiian .?" 
 
 " You amaze me. Lady," replied Stuart. 
 " I am the equal of my rash cousin in every 
 thing but his treasons." 
 
 " And you are only not equal to him in them, 
 because you lack the spirit to assert your own 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. gg 
 
 rights. Think you that he would so meekly 
 endure to be cut off from Im inheritance by 
 any ordinance of sordid time-servers, such as 
 those were that gave the crown to the bastard 
 progeny of Elizabeth Mure, and defrauded 
 the lawful issue of King Robert the Second 
 of their birthright ?" 
 
 Stuart was a. ,azed to hear her speak so 
 boldly; and her taunts entered into the 
 •inick of his soul, for he had ever felt as 
 his uncle the Earl of Athol felt, that the 
 posthumous law of the succession was a 
 grievous injury to all the descendants of 
 the marriage with Euphemia of Ross- 
 which marriage, till the enactment of the 
 law, had been accounted the only lawful 
 matrimony which that King had really con- 
 tracted, notwithstanding the general commi- 
 seration with which the fate of the fair Eliza 
 beth Mure had been lamented. He stood in 
 consequence some time struck with wonder 
 which Sibilla perceiving, added scornfully-' 
 
^ 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 !l 
 
 " I doubt not there is treason in my words 
 —my father and my betrothed husband are 
 in rebellion— why should not I too think and 
 feel as a rebel ? But go,— complete the loyal- 
 ty of tamely submitting to be shut out from 
 your own rights, by accusing me of treason. 
 Why, man, if you had half the manhood that's 
 in the left hand of your unfortunate cousin, 
 the Earl of Athol would long ere now have 
 been King, and yourself the heir to the throne." 
 
 Stuart trembled to see that the Lady Sibilla, 
 while she thus spoke, was pale and dreadful, 
 her eyes flashing fire, and the beauty of her 
 countenance haggard with rage and contempt. 
 
 " I pray you, sweetest lady,'" said he soft- 
 ly, " let not such perilous thoughts escape 
 you. Why should the Earl of Athol or my- 
 self shake the kingdom from its propriety 
 with such old stories, seeing that we are 
 placed by Providence, despite all human con- 
 trivance to the contrary, so very near the 
 throne.*" 
 
 ill 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 65 
 
 " You mistake me," replied Sibilla, with a 
 haughty air ; « I would not invite you to any 
 undertaking. I but spoke of that humility of 
 spirit, — Christian it is, — which so patiently 
 holds up the cheek to the smiter. Deeds 
 shew the man, and I esteem you by what you 
 have proved yourself. The only daring thing 
 you have ever done has been to offer yourself 
 to me as ti^e rival of your brave kinsman, and 
 that,— very prudently, my Lord, has been 
 most valorously adventured behind his back.'' 
 Stuart felt as if his passion was entirely 
 quenched, and he gazed at the flashing fren- 
 zy of her eye, and the haggard energy of her 
 colourless cheek and quivering lip, with al- 
 most irrepressible aversion ; but the feminine 
 fit was spent, and while he stood contemplat- 
 ing her with astonishment, and marvelling 
 that he should ever have thought her lovely, 
 or deserving to be loved, the gentle spirit of 
 her nature returned, and she sat down and 
 began to weep. 
 
66 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 6i 
 
 \\ n 
 
 ■n: 
 
 :'!.! 
 
 Why, my Lord," said she, and her tears 
 were fast flowing, " do you break in upon my 
 forlorn estate ? Am I not betrothed to your 
 ill-fated cousin ? Have I not shewn to all the 
 world with what sincerity I hold myself to be 
 his bride ? Is it not then as an insult to a 
 chaste wife to speak to me with professions of 
 love ? Let there be, from this time, an end to 
 all hope and protestations on your part, else 
 I must regard you as indeed meriting those 
 reproaches which, in my distraction, I have 
 too bitterly expressed. Go, my Lord, and if 
 it may be accepted as any atonement for my 
 rash words, believe that I feel proud of the 
 preference wherewith I have been honoured, 
 but that your courtesies have always been as 
 wormwood to my spirit, shewing as if you 
 thought I could be false and inconstant to 
 the strongest promises that ever maiden 
 pledged with man. If not ordaired to be the 
 wife of your cousin, I shall never be bride to 
 any other man."" 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 67 
 
 The sadness of her voice, and the soft soli- 
 citation with which her eloquent eyes aided 
 the wish that he would desist from his impor- 
 tunate devotion, renewed with redoubled 
 tenderness the admiration which she had so 
 long inspired. But the firmness with which 
 she declared her determination to accept only 
 the Lord James, taught him that his passion 
 was without hope. Twice he essayed to 
 speak, and to tell her something of the emo- 
 tions wherewith his bosom wss agitated, but 
 his tongue could find no words, and he quit- 
 ted her presence, torn with the conflicts of re- 
 jected love, contemned manhood, baffled de- 
 sires, and protestations scorned. 
 
 In the whirlwind of this storm within, he 
 hurried to the King's chamber to ask that he 
 might have leave to quit the court, never to 
 return while Sibilla was there ; but in going 
 thither he saw a great concourse of people as- 
 sembled at the gate, the guards, and halbar- 
 diers, and archers, all drawn out. On hastily 
 
68 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 inquiring what had chanced, a confused re- 
 sponse by many tongues informed him, that 
 the Lord of the Isles had suddenly appeared 
 before the King, while his Majesty was at his 
 orisons in the chapel, — some said he had at- 
 tempted the King's life, — and all agreed that 
 he had been seized on the spot, and was then 
 in the Abbey. 
 
 So strange an accident made Iiim at the 
 moment forget his own cares, and, rushing 
 through the guards, he ascended the stairs to 
 learn the circumstances of so singular an oc- 
 currence as that the rebel should, in such a 
 place, and at such a time, have presented 
 himself before the King. 
 
 
 
 if! 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 69 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 When Stuart came into the King's presence, 
 his Majesty was walking to and fro in the 
 chamber, plainly in great molestation of mind ; 
 and the Queen was standing apart by herself 
 m the bower window, seemingly deterred from 
 breaking in upon his cogitations by the vio- 
 lent battle of thought wherewith he was agi- 
 tated. On observing them in this state, Stuart 
 would have retired ; but he perceived, that on 
 his entrance the King had glanced his eye to- 
 wards liim, so that he was in a manner con- 
 strained to remain ; and while he stood at the 
 door. Sir William Chrichton, with others of 
 the council, came in, upon whose appearance 
 his Majesty mastered his feelings, and resum- 
 ed his natural equanimity. 
 
 " Sir William,'' said the King, on seeing the 
 
70 
 
 THE SPA E WIFE. 
 
 
 I" 
 
 1 
 
 Mil' 
 
 Chancellor, « I send for you to determine 
 respecting this bold action of Macdonald. 
 He has thrown himself on my honour and 
 mercy, and yet how well we know he is not 
 to be trusted—the cause of his doing so suf- 
 ficiently verifies. We had given him permis. 
 sion to return unmolested home, and to abide 
 in his island in peace, but no sooner did an 
 occasion arise whereby he thought to advance 
 himself, reckless of the damage he might 
 cause to others, than he again took the field. 
 But he has placed himself defenceless in my 
 power, and truly I pray Heaven to instruct 
 me what I ought to do, that my honour may 
 be safe, and the commonweal protected.*" 
 
 The Chancellor went respectfully up to the 
 King, and said — 
 
 " Macdonald, in so casting himself into the 
 hands of your Majesty, if we may judge by 
 his heretofore actions, has not done so from 
 that nobility of motive which entitles him to 
 appeal to the judicature of honour, but has 
 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 7J 
 
 been compelled by some constraint of circum- 
 stance which he could not master, or is actu- 
 ated by what with him is a no less forcible 
 argument, some view of advantage. In either 
 case he merits but the same treatment, and 
 the law and the commonweal claim the first 
 consideration.'' 
 
 " I know all that," replied the King quick- 
 ly~" I discern all that,-but then he has 
 
 thrown himself into my own hands, and I am 
 forced to consider, not only what as a King I 
 must do, but likewise what, to preserve my 
 knighthood unstained, I ought to do. Is it 
 thmk you, possible that there may be any 
 duty of the monarch inconsistent with the ho- 
 nour of the man ?" 
 
 « I should think not," replied Sir William 
 <-nrichton sedately. 
 
 " Then what the King's part is," said his 
 Majesty, " I have long studied to know, and 
 perhaps not altogether in vain; for I have 
 never considered royalty by its trappings- 
 
72 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 ii 
 
 'I ii i 
 'i • ■ 
 
 liWU' 
 
 
 The doffed bonnet, the bended knee, macers 
 and heralds, and golden baubles, with the 
 butterflies of fortune's summer, and the 
 shouts of the brute multit ide, whose plaudits 
 are often loudest when it's coarse appetite is 
 served with offal, these make nothing in my 
 estimate of the dignity royal. — No : Sir Wil- 
 liam, there is no King but he who dares to do 
 every thing save wrong — who fears nothing 
 mortal, but to be unjust — whose spirit is in- 
 accessible to the inflations of sycophan y — 
 whose throne is the fortitude of his own mind, 
 ■—his sceptre a benevolent will — and the jew- 
 els of his diadem precious opinions bought 
 from the wise and good. Of this empire every 
 man may be possessed that is worth his soul, 
 and he that has not attained to -^uch sove- 
 reignty is but a slave, though he were adorn- 
 ed by til the East, and served by ten times 
 the submission of all the millions that crawled 
 before the worst of the Caesars." 
 
 " Your Majesty," replied the Chancellor, 
 
THE SPAEW'IFE. 
 
 rs 
 
 
 "ha, but ,o follow the Jight of you, ,„,„ 
 wisdom in this matter." 
 
 " '^'"■'"'" int'Trupted the Kino, « ^ i,^ 
 has thrown hi. life into ,„y ,,,.„^ j,, ^j,,^ 
 have ,t ; but you, a„d others who ,,re the 
 Kmg's officers, look wellthat no mischief e„ 
 sue; for he iH hourly count on some remis 
 s.on of whatever you n,ay determine concern- 
 ing himself or hi estate, if his daughter ac 
 cept our CO, „, Stuart-the renown of which 
 match, and not contrition a. he professes, has 
 alone, I question not, brought him hither" 
 Stuart at these words stept forward and 
 
 -d," Let him not then reckon any longer on 
 that, nor his sentence be measur. I by any 
 ciiance of his cvu^^hter becoming n,y wife_ 
 The hope of that is quenched." 
 
 " How r cried the King, = What is this r 
 When was thm ?" 
 
 "It is so, and please your Afajesty ten 
 
 kingdoms would not bribe ,ne to .ddis my. 
 self again to the Lady Sibilla." 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 m% 
 
'''* THE SPAEWIPE. 
 
 The King looked at him. for a moment 
 K>-avely, an,! then, with pleasantry, saidJ 
 " But one smile may." 
 
 " ^°' ""'"•''• • *^ i« not what I thought she 
 »as. I have been blind to her defects, albeit 
 X must still do homage to her beauty." 
 
 " Pv, Stuart; to .lisparagc a lady whom 
 you have so long worshipped, is to aeknow. 
 ledge some defect in yourself. It augurs but 
 httle for your .valour to be daunted by a 
 maiden's frown," 
 
 Sir WilHam Chrichton, and those who had 
 come with him, seeing his Majesty f Uii.- . 
 i»to th.s easy vein, withdrew; and the Queen 
 oommg forward, also began to jeer Stuart on 
 being so faint-hearted. But the .scorn with 
 which Sibilla had spoken of his tameness 
 nia<le his temperas it were skinless to raillery 
 '■' «. much, that the King seeing him so 
 oasdy teased, yielded to the sportive malice 
 which his querulousness provoked, and gall- 
 ed him with jibes. 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 75 
 
 " ^"y." said his Majesty, « if th„.. hast 
 ost not only thy heart, thy suit, but even 
 % temper, truly ... .„,,, ^^^^ ^^^^ ^^ 
 
 havng co„e out of this adventure poorly 
 eed. Beshre. „., if .„, .,„„,,, f„ ^J 
 
 furnaee of a gossip's tongue .ill choose thee 
 tor her champion : 
 
 He that wouM thrive with lady bright 
 
 '''""'■'■'"''""-'f"' an points a knight, ■ 
 
 Boastful ami brave, and ready to tight." 
 
 " I entreat a parley," said Stuart sharplv. 
 
 W Majesty does not impute to me „y 
 diffidence wuh respect to fighting" ^ 
 
 - Jf ' ^^'"S '™g'"ng to see him so chafed 
 
 ;,t'f"^^'"'"'^«'-p^^^^«-tiH „.;:!' 
 
 ^y» u IS a pleasanter thinff to ?.. o • 1 , 
 
76 
 
 yv. 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 m 
 
 
 cli amber, than to abide the dissonance of 
 
 blows and bagpipes amid the bleak winds of 
 
 the Highland hills." 
 
 '' Did your Majesty," exclaimed Stuart, 
 
 with some lack of his usual homage, " but 
 
 command me to remain here that I might be 
 
 afterwards so scoffed at ?" 
 
 The King perceiving that he had touched 
 
 him nearer the quick than he intended, and 
 being disturbed thereat, said, " But a truce 
 with oiu' controversy. I would not have you 
 so abruptly renounce Sibilla, merely because 
 you may have found her to-day in an ungra- 
 cious mood." — 
 
 His Majesty would have added something 
 more, but Stuart cried abruptly, trembling 
 with passion, " Why am I to be ruled in 
 my affections? In the^e your subjects may 
 be left free." 
 
 The King looked at him with surprise, 
 and, taking the Queen's hand, turned away, 
 as he said, with a smile — 
 
THE SPAEWIFJJ. 
 
 77 
 
 " By supper-time, perhaps, you may have 
 recovered one of your losses,-the greatest, 
 'f 't be not found, cousin, I mean your 
 wonted good humour." 
 
 So saying, he led the Queen away, leaving 
 Stuart alone, who thereupon began to pace 
 the floor, clenching his hands, and using 
 those vehement gestures which betray vin 
 dictive meditations, while, from time to time, 
 he exclaimed 
 
 " He kept me with himself-made me his 
 companion-lulled me by a show of friend- 
 «lnp,-and while the world saw the cunning 
 of his pohcy, I have Leen despised for con- 
 tinumgsolongblind._Yes: I have deserv 
 ed both his taunts and the contempt of Si- 
 '""'•• But I am not a worm, to be ever 
 trod upon ; nor a snail, always to shut my 
 eyes at the approach of danger and let it come 
 He would not have dared to treat me as he 
 •as done to-day, were not Maedonald, the 
 last fnend of the unfortunate Albanies, in his 
 
78 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 i I 
 
 power ; but now he ventures openly to shew 
 what he intends. The condition of the Queen 
 gives him the pron^ise of heirs from himself. 
 He is afraid of my elder rights, so unjustly 
 set aside by our common grandfather. He 
 seeks a pretext to make his other kindred 
 take the road of poor old Murdoch and his 
 sons, but I will match his cunning with cun- 
 ning; and haply when he least expects it, 
 I may find a way to realize his fears. Yes' 
 Sibilla, I thank thee at least for that favour ;' 
 in telling me what I ought to have been,' 
 thou hast taught me what I am ; what I am 
 destined to be time will sliew. But my fate 
 hangs liy a maiden's Jionesty ; so said the 
 Spaewife ; and that prediction was the sha- 
 dow of my hope with Sibilla-but shadow 
 and substance I am now sick of as to her, 
 and my spirit is the lighter, for still when 
 she seemed inclined to favour my suit, I 
 thought of her first betrothment, and the 
 love that she continued to cherish for the 
 
THE SPAE'TIFE. 
 
 79 
 
 outW often damped the ardour of my pas- 
 
 "™- ^"' ""^^ I am free; her influence 
 over my fortune is ended, and I thank her 
 tor the taunts that have roused me to the 
 ^ense ot my rights, and shamed away the 
 base lethargy that has so long withheld n^e 
 irom asserting them." 
 
 Jn this manner, sometimes with vows of 
 vengeance for the contumely with winch he 
 supposed the King h,a treated him ; at 
 others, with complaints against his own su- 
 pmeness, in being restrained from vindicating 
 h.s birthright, by the false loyalty he had 
 learnt from the Earl of Athol, did he c„„- 
 tmue to pace the chamber for a season, and 
 ever and anon he rejoiced that he was no 
 
 longer the thrall of hopeless love; and that 
 
 .fh.sdest,ny was indeed subject to a maiden's 
 honesty, .t was not by Sibilla he would re 
 
 nortbt'r: ^'^^•'P°-y-th,heW 
 
 not that by the upbraidings wherewuh she 
 had chafed his spirit the impulse had been 
 
! il 
 
 -II 
 
 Iff 
 
 m' 
 
 80 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 given which was then hurrying him on to the 
 consummation of his destiny. But it is ever 
 so with us all — children of fate ! — to whom 
 it surely is ruled, that the things most fatal 
 should ever seem the fairest ; for in nothing 
 which affects our particular selves can we 
 discern either the springs or the issues of 
 the influences that govern fortune. 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 81 
 
 CHAP. VIII. 
 
 Sir Robert Gr^me had, in the meantime, 
 after parting from the Spaewife, pursued his 
 course southward, by moorland tracks and 
 mountain paths, far remote from tlie highways. 
 Her words dwelt in his spirit, as he waded 
 alone the solitude of the heath, and he felt 
 that the rocks might become as the morass, 
 and the flexible windlestrae as the stubborn 
 pine, but that he could never humble himself 
 before the man who had driven him to such 
 perdition of honour, and substance, and ser- 
 vitude, all that made life to him worth the 
 having— so he accounted the Kino-. 
 
 For three days, with but such casual fare 
 as the sheilins of the shepherds on the hills 
 could afford, he kept his soUtary way. When 
 his limbs were weary, and his feet torn with 
 the harsh roots of the heather, and the sharp 
 
 D 2 
 
lill 
 
 ^^ THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 .splinters of rifted stones in his untrodden 
 path, he would sit down on the bare corner 
 of some diffy rock, and scowl around on the 
 deserts of heather that covered all the expanse 
 in view; and when peradventure he some- 
 times saw the wolf skulking below, and 
 glancing towards him a hungry eye, he grudg- 
 ingly thought of the bondage entailed on the 
 condition of man— and the cruelty in his 
 blood thickened. 
 
 At night he chose his lair in the hollow of the 
 hills, and often, when gathered in his plaid, a 
 stone his pillow, as he saw the moon and the 
 stars hurrying over him, like fugitives through 
 the clouds, and heard the winds passing 
 around, and the roar of waters sullenly rising 
 From atar, he has started from the ground, 
 and grasped the hilt of his dirk to draw it 
 against his own fierce heart; but still the 
 thought of dying unrevenged checked his 
 purpose, and nerved him to endure the misery 
 of unsatisfied hatred a little longer. Then 
 
 i^f 
 
1 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 83 
 
 he would lay himself down again, and after 
 a short pause, sleep would suddenly descend 
 upon him, like a vulture on her quarry, and 
 devour him in dreams. The wolf that track- 
 ed him all day has been scared by the inward 
 rage of his visionary revenge. 
 
 The morning to him brought no light, but 
 only the blackness of fate ; for, as he approach- 
 ed towards the glens that lead into the Low- 
 lands, he expected to meet some of the royal 
 army then streaming in from the south, by 
 all the divers passes, to surround the rebels at 
 Inverness ; and the apprehension of falling 
 into their hands was as dreadful as the fan- 
 tasies which superstition creates in the dark- 
 ness of night. It would baffle his remorse- 
 less intent ; the fear of which made him 
 lurk m glens and woods by day, and move in 
 the mght, in the moonshine on the hill like 
 some dark demon to the execution of lome 
 gmlty purpose. 
 
 " Sowlls and podies ! ye'll be te tevil wi' 
 
lil'l 
 
 i-li 
 
 ^^ THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 te foots o' ti cow-Oomph !" was the sudden 
 salutation whidi he received, when, under the 
 shadow of a cloud, in passing the third night 
 round the corner of a rock in Badenoch, he 
 stumbled over Glenfruin, who, with a numer- 
 ous company of his clansmen, ^^ as so far ad- 
 vanced towards the appointed head-quarters 
 of the royal army, and had there laid them- 
 selves down to rest, without ward or sentinel, 
 having no dread of an enemy in that place. 
 
 In the same moment that the chief so 
 spoke, the Glenfruins started from their beds 
 of fern, and Gramme was pinioned by the 
 arms, and a prisoner. 
 
 " Laads," said Glenfruin, " ye'll tak te 
 sword and te dirk frae te man— tat's what 
 ye will— Oomph ;— and ye'll mak te rives o's 
 plaid, and a tie on te hands pehind te pack 
 and wi' te twa legs, for a salvation— Oomph.'' 
 He then addressed himself to the prisoner. 
 '' Aye ? al py yourselph, and a nopody at 
 al— oomph. Wha will ye pe, and what will 
 
 2 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 83 
 
 pe your pleasantries here ? Got's curse, ye 
 liad te foot on Iiur powel— Oomph." 
 
 Gra!me, surprised, but not ovcrwhelm- 
 
 «!, by this sudden mischance, replied, as 
 
 the clansmen were tearing his plaid and 
 
 twistmg the stripes into ropes to bind his 
 
 hands and feet 
 
 " You will learn betimes to-morrow what 
 it is to seize in this manner a messeno-er to 
 the King." 
 
 " SowUs and podies ! and is a' to-be-surely 
 that ye pe te message for te King .?-Oomph 
 Aye I te message for te King-tat's a cogi- 
 tation—Sowlls and podies, he has te fea 
 ther w te bonnet !-Oomph._Put wha can 
 see't wi' te moon !-Oomph._Laads, straik 
 hmi a ped, for he pe the King's message, and 
 te morn we'll male a congee, every n.other's 
 son of us, tat's what we will. Will te King's 
 message pe pleasured to he toon for a com 
 modity o' te sleep ? Caz you sec, we pe come 
 o'er te hills, far awa." 
 
86 
 
 TIIK SPAE^VIFE. 
 
 It 
 
 ■ 
 
 I ■ 
 
 'i 
 
 > 
 
 !' 
 
 li 
 
 1 ■■ ; > 
 
 : 
 
 " 1 can have no objection to rest, In ; 
 myself tired ; but, I pray you, let me h; 
 the freedom of my hands and feet." 
 
 " Aye ! will na te King's message pe rest, 
 ing without te foots ? Te foots pe in te stable 
 for te night — Oomph." 
 
 Grncme seeing that it would be of no avail 
 to controvert his condition at that seas(m, 
 threw himself on the ground, and two of 
 the clansmen, one at each shoulder, sat down 
 to watch and to ward beside him. Glenfruin 
 stretched himself also, wrapt in his plaid, 
 again in the lea of the rock, where he con- 
 tinued some time without, however, falling 
 asleep. At last he turned himself round, 
 and haJf rising on his arm, said, 
 
 " Will te King's message pe pleasured.?" 
 '' Well," said Graeme gruffly, « What do 
 you want.?" 
 
 " Just a civility. What pe te news te 
 message will tak to te Kin<r .?" 
 " Macdonald has left Inverness." 
 
 I: .• 
 
 ti. 
 
TifE SPAEWIFE. §7 
 
 '' SowlJs and podies !-.Ooni ,h.^ Ve ac 
 
 aom- no %ht.-.Ayef and te rebellion pe 
 > i te leaf o' te tree tat^s made in a teal 
 for a toor ?— -Oompli.'' 
 
 GJenfruin again laid himself back on the 
 ground, and after continuing some time si- 
 lent, he raised himself a second time. 
 
 ' ^ill le King^s message pe pleasured to 
 speech a word r Te Mactonald-he will pe 
 te man wi' tc pig purse py 'tis lifting. Will 
 tere no pe te wee town for a .judification, tat 
 te goot subject may rewart himsel for te re- 
 pellion .^— -Oomph." 
 
 " The good subject," repHed Gr^me, 
 " i^ad better think well before he rewards 
 himself; for the King's justice is not to be 
 trifled witli." 
 
 " Sowlls and pwlies, te King's justice !— 
 Oompl,. Is't a justice to travel away te foots 
 o' te goot subject for a noting at al." 
 
 Sir Robert Gramme never having before 
 met Glenfruin, and not being acquainted with 
 
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 THE SPAEMaFE. 
 
 !'. 
 
 the depth of his devices, was so far thrown 
 off his guard by this observation, that he 
 said, from the smarting of his own punish- 
 ment, — 
 
 " Justice and suffering now a days, in Scot- 
 land, are nearly the same thing, and law is the 
 disguise of tyranny." 
 
 Glenfruin pricked up his ears, but Graeme 
 felt that he had said too much, and to lessen 
 the impression, added, " So say the King's 
 enemies ; but this rebellion being over, as I 
 doubt not it is by this time, we shall hereaf- 
 ter hear less of such disloyalty.' 
 
 " Aye," rephed Glenfruin. " O put tat's 
 moving. We'll pe going home te morn, tat's 
 what we will— Oomph ! What pe laa; put 
 a pogie in a pook !" 
 
 Gra3me was, however, now on his guard; and 
 Glenfruin perceiving, after divers other en- 
 deavours to draw him farther on, that it would 
 be of no avail, composed himself for the re- 
 mainder of the night. 
 
 Ill 
 
• thrown 
 that he 
 punish- 
 in Scot- 
 
 aw is the 
 
 Graeme 
 to lessen 
 
 King's 
 er, as I 
 
 hereaf- 
 
 )ut tat's 
 L'n, tat's 
 a; put 
 
 "d; and 
 ber en- 
 : would 
 the re- 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 89 
 
 In the meantime the Earl of Athol, as re- 
 hearsed, had come to the castle of Blair, and 
 had tliere gathered the main power of his vas- 
 sals to be in readiness to join the King when his 
 Majesty would come up with the Lowlanders. 
 But more exact information having reached 
 Edinburgh of the strength of the rebels than 
 the magnified wonderment of the first rumour, 
 the King had resolved not to head the army 
 himself, but to send forward the warlike Earl 
 of Angus. Accordingly it came to pass, as 
 told in the foregoing chapter, that his Ma- 
 jesty was still at Holyrood when Macdo- 
 nald arrived to cast himself on his mercy. Of 
 this event the Earl of Athol received the 
 first intimation from Stuart his nephew, who, 
 on the same night that Graeme so clianced to 
 fall into the hands of Glenfruin, came sud- 
 denly to the castle, having, in the afternoon 
 of the day wherein he was so chafed both by 
 the Lady Sibilla and the King, obtained his 
 Majesty's permission to go thither. The King 
 
rii ! 
 
 90 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 had indeed, with sorrow, observed the inebri- 
 ation of chagrin wherewith the Lady Sibilla's 
 irreversible refusal had infected his brain, 
 and holding him in great affection on account 
 of his many knightly qualities, and hitherto 
 unblemished fidelity as a kinsman and true 
 subject, was right well content to give him 
 leave to retire into Athol till the sore of his 
 heart was salved by the molhfying ministra- 
 tions of time. 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 91 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 Now it came to pass, that the same night, 
 after the Lady Athol had retired to her 
 chamber, the Earl, with his nephew, remained 
 sitting together by themselves in a turret-room 
 discoursing of divers matters, wiierem Stuart 
 from time to time breathed his discontent 
 against the King; for, though standing in 
 awe of his uncle's renown for loyalty, he was 
 fearful to give utterance to the impoisoned 
 thought which his Majesty's free nature had 
 so innocently bred ; yet was he not altogether 
 able to repress the adder, nor to keep the fas- 
 cinations of its eye from attracting the fated 
 spirit of the Earl. 
 
 " He has no respect," said Stuart, " as we 
 have seen, even for the dignity of his own 
 blood ; but, like the Ottoman, considers high 
 
t I ! 
 
 92 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 1 ,t\' 
 
 and iow as if we were all slavcs-courageless 
 t'unuchs bought in a market." 
 
 " Hush !" replied the Earl, " and set a 
 guard on your tongue ; for though it must 
 be confessed that he does lack the accustomed 
 discrimination of the Scottish Kings, yet is he 
 singularly endowed with many princely vir- 
 tues; in sooth a just man— a very Solon in 
 the inditing of laws.-But I implore you to 
 be wise ; for have you not observed how much 
 more cruelly his justice went against our 
 kinsmen, the Albanies, than any other of. 
 fenders ?" 
 
 " Aye, Graeme, who laid hands upon him 
 even on the throne, in parliament, when ar- 
 rayed with crown and sceptre, was allo-ed to 
 go with his life,- replied Stuart ; - x have 
 often thought of that.'' 
 
 " Besides," rejoined the Earl, " think in 
 what dubiety we stand with respect to the 
 crown. But for the settlement of my father. 
 King Robert the Second, I should this day 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 93 
 
 have been of right King of Scotland. I be- 
 seech you to consider that, and how much we 
 both, you as my rightful heir, are plaxred 
 within the scope of his jealousy, especially 
 now that the Queen is in the way to be a 
 mother." 
 
 " How is it, my Lord, that you have so 
 quietly endured that great injustice ?'' 
 
 " You are too young to remember the 
 boundless domination of the Regent Robert, 
 poor Duke Murdoch^s father, else you woulcl 
 not ask that question. And wherefore should 
 I, a childless old man, stir in any rash una- 
 vailing pretension ; for, to do the King justice, 
 since his restoration he has greatly caused good 
 order and security to abound, albeit too 
 harsh in his ministry towards many of the no 
 bility." 
 
 " O, there was a time !" exclaimed Stuart, 
 " when any sovereign to have breathed against 
 the old free prerogatives of the Scottish nobles 
 but a moiety of what the King has done, by his 
 
'f "I 
 
 ■ •!: 
 ill 
 
 'Hi 
 
 !!i I 
 
 }yw 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 slights of law and judicature, would have rais- 
 ed the whole land like a whirlwind." 
 
 ** You give your anger too wide a license, 
 nephew," replied the Earl ; " I must not 
 suffer you to fall into such habits of discourse, 
 especially now when the whole realm is again 
 submissive to his dominion." 
 
 " But the world," said Stuart, « thinks 
 our submission — mine at least — to come of a 
 tame spirit ; I cannot brook to have myself 
 longer so unworthily considered." 
 
 " Hush ! these are rash words, nephew, 
 what would you do ?" 
 
 " Have you not told me, that but for the 
 treble injustice which gave the crown to the 
 bastards of Elizabeth Mure, you should have 
 this day been King of Scotland ?" 
 
 " I charge you talk not of such things in 
 that way. Rash young man ! I would but 
 do my duty were I to give you up for shew- 
 ing so much of a seditious spirit." 
 Stuart was somewhat rebuked by the warmth 
 
 MB! 
 
ave rais- 
 
 95 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 "It is current among the com„,o„aUy,th,t 
 >t has been prophesied you will be King " 
 
 "So I have heard ; and when it is consi 
 dered that there is but the Kingnowbetwl: 
 
 -e and the throne, it is no improbable evem 
 notwithstanding my years." ' 
 
 " ^»-Pl« of Dunblane," rejoined Stuart 
 'ong ago told me that my fate hangs-" ' 
 
 ^Anniple of Dunblane ."interrupted the 
 t-arl, surely you set no store by the rav 
 
 '"^^"^'J— -y What man fnt';^: 
 -.on of a sober mind would give heed to 
 ner jargon?" ^^ 
 
 " But many of her sajdngs, I have often 
 heard, have come to pass. She has a sh" 
 
 -;» very sing„lar discernment of what pas 
 nthemmdsofthosetowhomshespeak'fo 
 
 " "^ "'f "^"^ f- 'hat she will hold any r 
 course. ' -^ "^^" 
 
 The complexion of the Earl went a little at 
 
!'! 
 
 
 n 
 
 96 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 this remark, and he looked around uncon- 
 sciously, as if somewhat alarmed ; and then 
 said— 
 
 *« If it is ordained that I am to come to the 
 crown, and but one life now stands in the 
 way, the event will come to pass without any 
 ministry thereto on my part. But, nephew, 
 let not your thoughts run upon such malcon- 
 tent fancies. Seek rather to earn, as I have 
 all my life done, the esteem of the wise and 
 the good. It will better pave the way to a 
 quiet succession, when the time may come, 
 than any stratagem of human artifice in which 
 you can engage, I pray you also never to 
 break this matter again to me. I am an old 
 ixian— this grey head can ill bear the burden 
 of a helmet — and any other way than the 
 course of Providence needs the mediation of 
 
 arms." 
 
 " Think you then, my Lord," exclaimed 
 Stuart, " that I can patiently abide the taunts 
 of a usurper ; for such I will think he is, bat- 
 
 ;i!!? 
 
THESPAEWIFE. 9*7 
 
 Jgalithat parchment can sa,to,.eeo„tr„, 
 Ir'^-^P^™" '"""'" possess your nghtl 
 
 'hat .s your own concern, n,y l.„rd-btt he 
 ^as -„d,, „^ p^^^ ^,, _ ^ ^^ Jt 
 
 salt into the wound." 
 
 The Ear), on seeing Stuart rushing into 
 
 ears than nnne to breath your 
 treasons to. U |„^ u -^ "^ 
 
 hT« • u , ^ ^''"''"'' ^« a subject so 
 
 Se dream of setting aside King Jam,, 
 
 icrea, has been in fh^ f j 
 
 "t^en m the freedom w th which 
 
 y«u have this night ventured to . 
 
 a Quernlo ^^'^t^Jred to express to me 
 
 naT; h TtT^''"^'- '^''-'^y— Iffortu- 
 n e th.^I do not forthwith send you to the 
 
 Tl ''"* ^"^ '^'"^•"''er, and ponder 
 
 onjhatyouhavesotraiterousiyspokeL. 
 
 vo" " ""'"'*'"^'^ ^^'--d' b"t 
 
 E 
 
•mmmmnmm 
 
 
 ''ill! 
 
 98 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 the Earl remained, evidently in great agita- 
 tion. He moved several paces from the spot 
 where he waw standing ; and clasped his 
 hands, and looked very wild and woe-begone. 
 Then he again sat down, and bent his head 
 upon his hand, resting on the table ; and con- 
 tinued for some time like a marble image of 
 cogitation. Suddenly he started up, and 
 moved round the chamber many times with 
 perturbed steps — often raising his hands and 
 shaking them, as one that eschews the pre- 
 sence of some very dreadful sight. Anon 
 he would touch his aged locks, and look at 
 his shrivelled hands, and fold them together, 
 and remain with a melancholy air, and sigh, 
 and almost weep. 
 
 But these fond struggles did not last long ; 
 for ever and anon his evil angel would come 
 upon him, and nerve him with pride, making 
 his age seem less, and brightening his coim- 
 tenance with a royal arrogance ; which soon, 
 however, changed into a dark and cruel look : 
 
•at agita- 
 the spot 
 sped his 
 E}-l)egone. 
 his head 
 and con- 
 image of 
 up, and 
 rnes with 
 inds and 
 the pre- 
 Anon 
 i look at 
 together, 
 md sigh, 
 
 ist long ; 
 lid come 
 , making 
 lis coun- 
 ch soon, 
 uel look : 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. gg 
 
 -Then he would stalk hurriedly and stealthi. 
 
 ' ''7 '''' '•--' ^^"I^ling his hand as if he 
 
 rasped a murderous knife. But in that 
 
 ^e feU upon his knees, and with hitter te J 
 cned woefully to the Heavens. 
 
 J I We not made a compact with perdi- 
 -d, which wi.h the halo of g4,.,,;l' 
 
 ed w.th the benedictions of good men, more 
 P-ously than the unction could hav don 
 
 -h which the P.ophet Samuel consecrated 
 David against Saul." 
 
 -i-hen, having thus prayed, he rose, and as 
 ' earful to trust hi.self „ieh the a.ful 
 
 =r,irrv"-^'^' '' '-'y 
 
 ne nght that stood upon the table 
 and without callin,. u- ' 
 
 ^ ut calimg, as his custom was, for 
 
 t 
 
ill ■'< 
 
 100 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 mil 
 
 Next morning, being duly advertised that 
 the rebellion of the Macdonald was at an 
 end, ind the different clans engaged therein 
 :^.ispersed, and retired to their respective 
 countries, the Earl sent home likewise his 
 vassals, and prepared to return to his lodg- 
 ing in Perth ; the court being minded to come 
 to Scoone, where the King expected his at- 
 tendance. But, in the course of the day, it 
 came to pass that Glenfruin, having with him 
 Sir Robert Graeme, arrived at the castle, and 
 being taken to the Earl, narrated in what 
 manner the prisoner had fallen into his hands, 
 and that he much doubted if he was, as he 
 had pretended to be, the bearer of tidings to 
 
 the King. 
 
 " For you see, mi Lord Eerl," said Glen- 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. IQl 
 
 fruin, " what would te King's message pe 
 taking to tell te grouse and the ptarmigan on 
 te hills?— oomph / and ten, mi Lord and Eerl, 
 he pe in te chief's does, an te tartan pe o' te 
 Gra^me—Sowlls and podies ! is't a to-be-sure- 
 ^yy tat were al a tream and veesion—and he 
 pe te Sir Robert tat was panished.— Sowlls 
 and podies ! it was a lamb and a lion, mi Lord 
 and Eerl, te fal in te sleep wi' tat traitor man 
 —put he had na te sword nor te tirk— oomph f 
 Aye, aye, tat was a goot poleesee— oomph » 
 The Earl commended the discernment and 
 dexterity of Glenfruin, and lauded the alert 
 loyalty with which he had obeyed the first 
 summons of the King to rendezvous with his 
 clansmen at the place appointed— telhng him, 
 that he would not faU to report his great 
 merits to his Majesty. 
 
 " And ye'll pe pleasured, mi Lord and 
 Eerl," repHed Glenfruin, « to count to te 
 King al te cost and te monies for the tribula- 
 tions o' te Laidie Tooches-tat's noo in te 
 
• ii 
 
 m 
 
 f ^: I 
 
 lilt 
 
 102 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 sheilin o' Glenfruin, taking her pleasantries 
 in a custodie— oomph ! Put ye'll no forget 
 tat we'll pe seeking no monies at al, nor te 
 pay o' te mark or te crown ;— no, no, mi Lord 
 and Eerl, Glenfruin's paith a loyaltie and a 
 liberallie ; an if te King will, in a smal way, 
 just alloo tat bit shaping o' te land o' Lennox, 
 it's just a loof and a palm, mi Lord and Eerl, 
 atween te Leven water and te purn o' Glen- 
 fruin, we'll mak al our servitudes, paith for 
 te taking o' te Laidie Tooches, and te traitor 
 man tat's noo in te hal of mi Lord and Eerl, 
 we'll mak it al a free gratos— a nothing at 
 al." 
 
 The Earl did not exactly understand what 
 Glenfruin meant in allusion to the Duchess 
 of Albany being his prisoner, but he was so 
 far informed with respect to the forfeited 
 estate, as to know that the hand's-breadth of 
 land whereof Glenfruin spoke so lightly was 
 one of the best domains in the earldom of 
 Lennox. But as it had long been the Earl's 
 
 n 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 103 
 
 endeavour to stand well with all men, he 
 spoke fair, and with sweet words, to the old 
 chieftain; at the same time, giving him no 
 encouragement to expect that the King would 
 consider his services at so high a price as he 
 had himself put upon them. 
 
 " For you know, Glenfruin," said he, " that 
 among the English, where the King was so 
 long bred, true subjects are expected to do 
 their duty without reward ; albeit their kings 
 sometimes bestow small marks of favour where 
 the merit is very singular. I do not, however, 
 say, that his Majesty will not discern the 
 merits of your services, and reward them even 
 with much more than the lands whereof you 
 have spoken ; but there may be persons about 
 the King who may represent those lands as of 
 more value than you think they are ; and you 
 know his Majesty is, in all matters touching 
 the property of the crown, guided by the de- 
 terminations of his council." 
 • " SowUs and podies ! mi Lord and Eerl, it 
 
I 
 
 If 
 
 I' t 
 
 I ': 
 
 il 1 
 
 
 
 ilHIl 
 
 ,^l 
 
 W^ 
 
 i , ! 
 
 104 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 would be a judification o' te honest man, and 
 al his clan, to let te Laidie Tooches mak him 
 an eatible, forpye te travail to te repellion, 
 tat was al a tead loss — and ten te traitor man, 
 
 oomph ! Cal ye tis a government, oomph, 
 
 mi Lord and Eerl— if tat's te way o' te laas, 
 we'll al pe traitor mans, every mother's son of 
 us — oomph r' 
 
 " No doubt, Glenfruin," replied the Earl, 
 " it would be much more according to our 
 good old Scottish customs, if less were de- 
 manded for the public, and"— 
 
 " Te public ! mi Lord and Eerl," interrupt- 
 ed Glenfruin, giving an angry hotch in his 
 chair, " what's te public, an what pe te goot 
 o' Le public to me ? oomph ! Sowlls and po- 
 dies ! it was te petter time for te honest man 
 pefore tis public was porne." 
 
 " Yes," replied the Earl, « this same thing 
 the public keeps many an honest man from his 
 own out of respect to it— but, as true and leal 
 subjects of the King, we must all forget our 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 105 
 
 particular grievances. I am sure there is no 
 man in the realm who has more reason to com- 
 plain of the laws than I have." 
 
 " It's an och-hone, mi Lord and Eerl, tat 
 ye were na te king yoursel." 
 
 " Glenfruin !" exclaimed the Earl, « Glen- 
 fruin ! Do you mean to insult me, and en- 
 danger yourself by such language, in this 
 house ?" 
 
 " My goot Lord and Eerl, weVe no a se- 
 dition at al. Sowlls and podies ! mi Lord and 
 Eerl, would na ye hear a glorification, just 
 m the way o' a congee— tat's al— Oomph." 
 
 " Well," said the Earl, not affecting to ob- 
 serve the apology, " but what does Glenfruin 
 mean by the Duchess of Albany being in 
 custody ?" 
 
 " Oo aye, will mi goot Lord and Eerl mak 
 a cognition o' te Laidie Tooches ? You see, 
 when te Glenfruins were al come to te shore— 
 al, every mother's son of us,— tere was a man, 
 a laad fi-ae mi Laidie ^^ ^oches,— and te man, 
 
 E 2 
 
1; 
 
 ^^^ THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 he would tak te poat. Teevils in hell ! ye'll no 
 tak te poat,— curse tak me if you will. Put, for 
 al tat, he was a speech, and so we came pe te 
 wood o' te tree, and Nigel-he's a praw laad 
 and prave laad, Nigel-he came in te poat- 
 and here was mi Laidie Tooches al py her- 
 self, and a laidie likewise on te stane, and so 
 we made a captivitie ; and Nigel, wi' te Laidie 
 Tooches and her oold maiden madam, you 
 see, mi Lord and Eerl, sailt in te poat to 
 Glenfruin." 
 
 " Surely you have not seized the unfortu- 
 nate Duchess without authority," exclaimed 
 the Earl. « Know you not that the King 
 has offered to restore her all the earldom of 
 Lennox, which, however" 
 
 " Al the eerldom !— oomph. Sowlls and 
 podies I Is't te King a man wi' a sholder 
 on a head? and will my Laidie Tooches 
 pe making a lifting pack again o' te cows and 
 te catties, tat te Macfarlane— oomph. Got 
 tamn te Macfarlane; he took te cows and 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 107 
 
 cattle when te King made his judifications- 
 oomph/' 
 
 " Of course, Glenfruin," said the EarJ, 
 " you were too faithful a subject to herry the 
 lands of Lennox at the time of the forfeiture. 
 But if the Macfarlane has done so, let him 
 look to the consequences, unless he has a 
 friend to appease the King."" 
 
 " Glenfruin was not quite easy in his 
 mind at hearing the Earl speak in this man- 
 ner, and, not well knowing what answer to 
 make, he said— 
 
 ** Put will na mi Lord and Eerl pe plea- 
 sured to see te King's message tat pe in te 
 hal?" 
 
 " If he be, as you seem to suppose, Sir 
 Robert Graeme, I am almost sorry," replied 
 the Earl, "that he has been brought hither; 
 as it was by my interference that his life 
 was spared, and he ought not now to have 
 been within the realm of Scotland." 
 
 " Sowlls and podies ! where pe te goot ser- 
 
Ill 
 
 !•' !!■ 
 
 108 THE SPAEWIFB. 
 
 vice o' Glenfruin to get te King's penedic- 
 
 tions in a palm o' land or te mark o' monies? 
 
 — Oomph — oomph." 
 
 " Nevertheless," replied the Earl, " since he 
 
 is now in custody, I will keep him a prisoner 
 
 till I have the King's orders concerning him." 
 " And what will Glenfruin pe doing wi' 
 
 te Laidie Tooches ? — Sowlls and podies ! — 
 
 Oomph." 
 
 The Earl paused for a moment. He 
 
 thought, if he advised the chieftain to restore 
 her at once to liberty, the veteran would 
 thereby pacify his Majesty's displeasure at 
 the manner in which he had treated that dis- 
 consolate lady, Imt otherwise his sordid loy- 
 alty might be changed ; and, as the thought 
 presented itself, he turned away from Glen- 
 fruin and walked to the upper end of the gal- 
 lery, where they held this discourse, saying in 
 bitterness of heart to himself — 
 
 " Oh ! cruel fate, hurry me not so fast ; 
 let me take time to breathe." 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 109 
 
 He then returned with quick steps to Glen- 
 fruin, and said — 
 
 " Sir Robert Graeme is well known to all 
 in my household, and I was already informed 
 that he was your prisoner before you were 
 admitted." 
 
 " Oomph," replied Glenfruin looking cu- 
 riously from under his brows. 
 
 "Yes," rejoined the Earl; "but I do 
 not wish to embroil myself further in the 
 affairs of Graeme. I give you leave to let 
 him be held in custody here till the King's 
 pleasure concerning him be known." 
 
 Graeme had not, however, in the meantime 
 been idle in his thoughts, and knowing the 
 jeopardy wherein he stood, he had so ad- 
 dressed himself to Stuart, who on his being 
 brought to the castle had gone to see him in 
 the hall, as not only to move him to compas- 
 sionate his condition, in the distemperature 
 wherewith that ill-fated youth was at the time 
 
f I 
 
 ji 
 
 l;|ji 
 
 110 THE SPAEM'IFE. 
 
 afflicted, but to make hira cleave to the re- 
 beUious daring of his spirit. 
 
 The fancies of the outlaw were still tinged 
 with the predictions of the Spaewife, and in his 
 ruminations on entering the castle, he recollect- 
 ed that, from the time he had parted from her, 
 three rivers he had crossed, and ascended and 
 descended the hills between them; and he 
 said to himself, " Athol is the man bv whom 
 my lands are to be restored ; his power with 
 the King is the key of my castle, which, when 
 I again possess, will indeed remain mine." 
 
 These reflections so wrought with him, 
 that, while he was discoursing with Stuart, 
 he beseeched him to ask the Earl, his uncle, 
 to present a petition from him to the King. 
 " I do not expect the restoration of my 
 lands, nor shall I petition for that, but only 
 remission of the banishment, that I may be 
 free to enter into the vassalage of some ge- 
 nerous patron.'^ 
 
 6 
 
 ILad 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. m 
 
 There was no man of that time who could 
 «> eloquently enforce his argument as Sir 
 Robert Gr*mc, and the elocution with which 
 I"; set forth this seeming lowly request ob- 
 tained a ready concurrence from Stuart, who 
 not only assisted him in forthwith preparing 
 
 the memorial ofhis professions of contrition 
 for past offences, but in carrying it to the 
 
 tarl ; he added many things in the prisoner', 
 ^ehalf, expressing, however, his doubt if the 
 Kmg would grant any part of the humble 
 •'-n solicited, and reverting, with sharp 
 
 -ords, to the contumely, as he felt it, of thT 
 K>"gs treatment of himself. The Farl 
 
 l-vever, in taking the paper, said nothing.' 
 but h.s countenance was pale, and his lipl 
 qmvered ; and hastily putting it into his bo 
 »ni, he retired into another apartment to con- 
 -al the agitafon with which he was so very 
 strangely affected. •' 
 
113 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 CHAP. XL 
 
 While Macdonald and his hasty adventure, 
 so suddenly abandoned, was causing such 
 molestation throughout the realm, and bring- 
 ing so many fatal circumstances to a conflu- 
 ence, the Duchess of Albany, with her faith- 
 ful companion, the aged Leddy Glenjuckie, 
 was patiently wearing the time away in the 
 castle of Glenfruin as a prisoner, under the 
 watch and ward of Nigel and a party of the 
 clansmen. 
 
 The Lady of Glenfruin and her two daugh- 
 ters, with many gentle ministrations, endea- 
 voured to sweeten her captivity ; but to her 
 Grace all things and all places were alike. 
 Her prison-house was life ; and if at times she 
 stfenied to be touched with any sense of mor- 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 118 
 
 venture, 
 ng such 
 id bring- 
 i conflu. 
 ler faith- 
 jnjuckie, 
 y in the 
 ider the 
 ;y of the 
 
 ) daugh- 
 , endea- 
 !fc to her 
 re alike, 
 imes she 
 of mor- 
 
 tal sympathy, it was in the still of the golden 
 evening, when she sat on the brow of the 
 castle-hiJI, looking abroad on the tranquillity 
 of the lake below, and listening to the mourn- 
 ful melody of some Highland sonnet and wail- 
 ing coronach chanted by old Norah, as she 
 teased her wool or twirled her distaff on the 
 stone seat at the castle gate. 
 
 But Leddy Glenjuckie, who suffered no 
 grief save that of pity for the misfortunes of 
 her mistress, the which, like the sorrows of 
 other waiting gentlewomen, was yielding to 
 the balm of time, and save the occasional an- 
 guish of her own sciatica, passed the day with 
 more variety. Having from her youth been 
 habituated to the silken courtesies of a court- 
 ly life, she could ill abide the mountain fare 
 and heather couches of Glenfruin's tower, 
 and the offence which the yellow necks and 
 bare red arms of his long and lean daughters 
 gave to her delicate eyes at her arrival, was 
 scarcely extenuated by the unmitigated civi- 
 
1 
 
 ! : 
 
 i t 
 
 ill 
 
 In 
 
 h 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 ; 
 
 i 
 
 Li 
 
 114 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 lities of their Highland kindness. For several 
 days slie fretted at tlieir endeavours to be 
 urbane and debonnaire, notwitiistandin^ the 
 manifest great j)ains which the efforts cost 
 them ; and she often peevishly repulsed the 
 condolence with which they brought frequent 
 decoctions and many an arcanum of Celtic 
 pharmacy, to appease the anguish of her scia- 
 tica. 
 
 Custom, however, began at last to reconcile 
 her to their defects and kindiiess ; and, in the 
 end, the deference which they paid to her 
 superiority was rewarded by affable tales con- 
 cerning the revels and the banquets which she 
 had formerly adorned. Then would she des- 
 cant of the caskets of pearls and garnets, and 
 the glittering robes, which she had left in the 
 castle of Falkland ; telling them of things 
 whereof they had not heard even the names, 
 such as damask diapered with lilies, enamelled 
 chainlets, pomelles, and purple palls; and 
 how, when she was a maid of h<mour to the 
 
'^^ , 
 
 THE SPAKWIFE. 
 
 115 
 
 [)r several 
 ITS to be 
 mdin^ the 
 forts cost 
 iilsed the 
 frequent 
 of Celtic 
 ' lier scia- 
 
 reconcile 
 id, in the 
 d to her 
 tales con- 
 vhich she 
 she des- 
 tiets, and 
 3ft in the 
 »f things 
 e names, 
 namelled 
 lis ; and 
 w to the 
 
 4 
 
 ■i 
 
 Regent Robert'. Duchess, Duke Murdoch's 
 mother, she had a milk-white Spanish jennet 
 trapped to the ground with velvet and cloth 
 "fgold; nor did she forget the pretty page 
 "1 1"» gay attire, that went with her when she 
 took the pastime of hawking witli the ladies 
 "f the court, carrying on his arm her eagle- 
 horn and merlyon, with their silver bells. 
 " ^"'' '^'^I'-'^day !" she would often in those 
 pleasant rehearsals say with a sigh, « the de- 
 '^y of the world is plain to be seen.-Sir 
 Penny has become the king of the earth ;" 
 and then she would recite with good emphasis, 
 tnppmgly on the tongue, certain pithy nior- 
 «els of the lay wherein his domination is cele- 
 orated, sayiiig — 
 
 Popes, kings, and euiperours, 
 Bishops, abbots, and priours, 
 
 Parson, priest, and knight, 
 Dukes, earls, and ilk baroun, 
 To serve him are they all boun, 
 
 Both by day and night. 
 
t!t' 
 
 «ili 
 
 116 THE SPAE WIFE. 
 
 In the king's court it is no boot 
 Against Sir Penny for to moot, 
 
 So meikle is he of might ; 
 He is so witty and so strong, 
 That be it never so mikle wrong, 
 
 He wiU make it right. 
 
 Sir Penny over all gets the gree, 
 Both in borough and in citie, 
 * In castle and in tower : 
 
 Withouten either spear or shield, 
 He is the beat in frith or field, 
 And stalwarthest in stour." 
 
 On these occasions the daughters of Glen- 
 fruin would beseech her to repeat the same 
 till they got the rhymes by rote, it not being 
 the custom iii those days for young ladies of 
 their degree, even of many degrees higher, to 
 read the minstrelsy of books. 
 
 But Leddy Glenjuckie did not always seek 
 to move her admiring auditors by instructive 
 descants in the vein of Prince Achilles' com- 
 plaint, to the which so many laureates in after- 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 117 
 
 times have played the mumbling echo, some 
 for mockery and some for moan, taking their 
 text from those sad rhymes of the longest lay 
 of the learned Lydgate : 
 
 " For like it is that all the gentle blood 
 Throughout the world shall destroyed be, 
 And rural folk (and that were great pitie) 
 Shall have lordship and whole governance : 
 And churles eke, with sorrow and mischance, 
 In every land shall lordis be alone. 
 And gentlemen be slain, all, every one." 
 
 Changing the key of her humour, and run - 
 ning the diapason of a livelier mood, she would 
 then rehearse the adventures of ladies and 
 gallants, and other tenderlings, and quaintly 
 tell of what mischanced to a fair damsel— 
 
 When she rose, that lady dear. 
 
 To take her leave of her squyere, 
 
 All so naked as she was born, 
 She stood her chamber -door beforn. 
 
 " Then," said she, « was the time when it 
 was worth something to be fair. I was not 
 
I i 
 
 . 1; i I 
 
 ii 
 
 "^ THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 always gnawed by the sciatica. Time, that 
 has since, with his cruel fingers, scratched so 
 many furrows in these cheeks, was not alway 
 my foe. Well do I remember, when, as a 
 champion, he challenged to prove my beauty 
 without a marrow, on a day that was to come. 
 And It did come, and many a stricken knight 
 with a bleeding heart lay at my feet." 
 
 Then would she ever and anon give these 
 «mple damsels, who much marvelled to hear 
 an ancient dame with a shaking head dis- 
 course with such juvenility, much sage coun- 
 sel how to comport themselves in what she 
 called the maiden's war ; telling them how the 
 loathly woman won Sir Florent; citing many 
 a delectable sentence from that pleasant ro- 
 inaunt, the which in those days was as fami- 
 liar m the Lowland halls and bowers as ever 
 
 the poesie of mightier minstrels hath since 
 been. 
 
 But, albeit, that antique gentlewoman so 
 vaunted of her victorious beauty, and so dis- 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 119 
 
 coursed of stratagems of love, to these moun- 
 tain maidens, yet was she in all points touch- 
 ing the moralities of demeanour singularly de- 
 licate, yea, most dainty and circumspect, else 
 would not the Duchess of Albany have en- 
 dured her services. There had chanced, 
 however, a certain accident in her life, before 
 she was married to the first of her four hus- 
 bands, and by it, as an epoch, she was wont 
 to date the occurrence of events, saying, that 
 such and such things had come to pass so 
 long before or after her misfortune; which 
 misfortune was a damage that she met with 
 by the fall of a gallery, wherein she was sit- 
 ting with other ladies of the court to see the 
 joustings held at Perth, on the occasion of the 
 coronation of King Robert the Second, and 
 by which she was ever after crippled from 
 dancing, to the great grief, according to her 
 own rehearsal, of the King and all his nobles, 
 so much did she excel in the art. 
 
 In this manner the time passed away with 
 
1 i ■ ' T 
 
 I ; 
 
 H ! 
 
 ii 
 
 „.'! 
 
 
 
 
 
 )! 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 ■'■ 1 
 
 
 
 ■ 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 M ; 
 
 > 
 
 
 ii 
 
 120 
 
 THE SPA E WIFE. 
 
 Leddy Glenjuckie till Glenfruin returned 
 home ; and a very wrothful and irascible man 
 he was when he came, not only because he 
 had found no rebellious town to indemnify 
 his clansmen for the brisk loyalty with which 
 they had obeyed the King's mandate to go 
 against Macdonald, but also in consequence 
 of the Earl of AthoPs doubts if his Majesty 
 would be content to hear that the unfortunate 
 Duchess was held as a prisoner in his castle. 
 The consideration, also, with which the Earl 
 and his nephew treated Sir Robert Graeme did 
 not content him ; he not only expected that 
 immediate execution would have been done on 
 the outlaw, but had cherished the hope, that, 
 for ..le notable service he had himself render- 
 ed to the State in bringing him in, no question 
 would be made about granting the pendicle 
 of the earldom of Lennox, which lay so con- 
 veniently to augment his estate. 
 
 " Sowlls and podies, Nigel !" said he to his 
 son, in relating the adventure, « Isn't a shame 
 
 1i^ 
 
THE SPAE\. IFE. 
 
 Ul 
 
 -d a f,e tat we will pe come pack wi' te 
 
 meal for te forty davs «] • 
 
 •'J' aays, al m our pellies 
 
 B"tNige], instead of sympathizing with his 
 a.^pp„t.e„t,orthei.p„.eri.shJntwhi 
 
 exped:t,on, began to speak in very tender and 
 «>mpass,onate terms of the Duchess 1 
 suggest, that as her detention migt „: : 
 
 tocmry her, as soon as possible, in a befit 
 '-g manner, to the summer bower i„ r„t" 
 mumn. ^ncn- 
 
 !::;;"- -'-"^ »— ./.dtr 
 
 Laidie Tooch 
 
 Oomph. Has she 
 ransom ?— -Oomph 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 les wi' a 
 
 te 
 
 gallantrie-^ 
 rings or te gold for te 
 
 F 
 
aii;^ 
 
 M 
 
 :i !' 
 
 
 122 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 At this juncture of their conversation, Led- 
 dy Glenjuckie, who had been forth an airing 
 on the castle-hill when he returned, came into 
 the hall, leaning, because of her sciatica, on 
 the arms of his daughters. As she passed 
 towards the stair to ascend into the apartment 
 where the Duchess was silting alone, — the 
 Lady of Glenfruin being busy with Norah in 
 another apartment, seething worsted with 
 chips of oak and rusty swords for a blue dye, 
 — Glenfruin turned round on the bench in 
 the chimney-corner where he was sitting, and 
 
 said— 
 
 " Mi oold Laidie-matam, and will te pen- 
 alties in your pack no pe petter at al? — 
 Oomph;' 
 
 Leddy Glenjuckie, who had never been af- 
 flicted with such a salutation, dropped the 
 arms of her supporters, and looked as if she 
 beheld some shaggy boar, or other uncouth 
 felon of the woods. Glenfruin however in- 
 tended to be courteous, in order that no com- 
 
THESPAEWIFE. jg 
 
 p.abtmi,htaf«sbe«adeb,theprisoI 
 ers to his prejudice, and he added— 
 
 " It's an och-hon, «i Laidie-niatam, to see 
 
 tat yeVe al a crook h-ke te hoop o-te „^ 
 moon— Oomph." 
 
 At these words, Leddy Glenjuekie tartly 
 
 ^' ": •'''"^•'^- a^- by the arms, and 
 -th short quick steps, tottled as fast a^ she 
 eoud to the foot of the stairs. Glenfr^ 
 quneuncoascious of any offence, rose aiid^d 
 vanced to proffer his gallant assistance to hS 
 
 tilJh- •V'™''■"^'^°™-^-~- 
 .onfh,sc:vlhty,she,ookedoverhershouI. 
 aer, trembliiiff at oncp wifK 
 
 and exclaimed- "="" '"' '^' 
 
 " ^^r "''"■ ^" '" ™"'t^d «inee I had 
 my misfortune !" '^ nm 
 
 " SowlIs,podies! misfortune .--oomph - was 
 "asonorataughter.P-Oomph" 
 
 What might have ensued it were vain to 
 
 ^agine, or at that moment the shrill Tund 
 <^ a bugle.horn at the castle-gate drowned 
 

 Ml 
 
 ' ! 
 
 i ! 
 
 'I ! 
 
 :! I 
 
 lU i 
 
 1 ji i' t 
 
 
 I! 
 
 ill- 
 
 iir 
 
 124 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 her scream ; and Glenfruin, with Nigel and 
 all the sorners in the hall, hastened to see 
 what stranger so chivalai usly demanded 
 entrance. 
 
THE SPAEWIFK. 
 
 1^ 
 
 CHAP. XII. 
 
 In the meantime the Lord James, after the 
 breaking up of Ma<3donald's enterprise, he- 
 came very despondent of his fortunes,' and 
 was grieved, even tc that sickness of the heart 
 which is of a keener pang than the anguish of 
 wound., by the reported inconstancy of the 
 Lady Sibilla. 
 
 In the morning, when he saw the clansman 
 of the Isles departing homeward, and all the 
 array that had come to maintain his cause 
 meltmg away, he stood alone on the side of 
 Craig Phatric, and, meditating on the eclipse 
 of his father's house, resolved to leave the 
 Scottish strand for ever, and to sail to the 
 isle of Rhodes, there to seek admission into 
 the brotherhood of the knights of St John. 
 And it chanced that, while he was in this 
 
I'j 
 
 h r 
 
 126 THE 8PAEWIFE. 
 
 forlorn and disconsolate state, Celestine of 
 Loch Aw, a kinsman of his own, suddenly ap- 
 peared coming from the bottom of the hill. 
 
 The mother of this Celestine, being the 
 daughter of the Regent Robert, was aunt to 
 the outlaw, and her son had inherited from her 
 the partialities and affections of the Albanies ; 
 but his father, Sir Duncan Campbell, was a 
 warrior of renowned loyalty, and in all things 
 a firm upholder of the King's administration. 
 It chanced, that when the tidings of the Lord 
 James' arrival at Inverlochy from Ireland 
 reached Celestine, that he was hunting the red 
 deer r»n Ben Cruachan, with but a few fol- 
 lowers ; and on the pretext of still pursuing 
 the chase, he passed the mountains at the 
 head of Loch Rannoch,and, skirring the coun- 
 try to the north of Loch Erich, had only that 
 morning come from Dalwhinnie to the camp; 
 so that the Lord James, on being told his 
 name, though he joined hands with him as a 
 kinsman, knew not in what way his affections 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. I27 
 
 leant ; and he was the more disposed to dig. 
 trust him, seeing him alone and in the garb of 
 a hunter, because of the notour devotion to 
 the King which his father. Sir Duncan Camp, 
 bell, cherished. He would therefore have 
 gMly avoided him ; but the melancholiou, 
 manner in which Celestine had seen him stand- 
 'ng alone, leaning on the hilt of his broad- 
 sword, much moved the young chieftain of 
 the Campbells, and he not only tried to cheer 
 h<ra with many exhortations to constancy of 
 mmd, but with anticipations of better chance, 
 m the affection of undivulged friends. 
 
 " I see not," said he, "your condition in so 
 dismal a plight. Come with me to Kilchurn 
 Castle, for my father is now with the King at 
 Edinburgh. There, as you are unknown, 
 you may for a time abide in security, till we 
 hear what good fortune is yet in store for 
 you." 
 
 But the Lord James replied, " How may 
 I trust myself in the hands of the Campbells, 
 
If -; 
 
 fii 
 
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 128 
 
 THE SPAli\riF£. 
 
 whose chief, your father, is well known to be 
 as it were a very part of the King himself ? 
 No, truly,, my kind cousin, it were now a mad 
 and vain thing of me to attempt any enter- 
 prise in Scotland ; I feel that I am indeed 
 an outlaw — the curse of excommunication has 
 taken effect upon me. I am a shunned thing, 
 and no one prospers that shares in the chances 
 <Jtf my fortune." 
 
 " I do not invite you," said Celestine, " to 
 any adventure, but only to take shelter in 
 Kilchurn till the blast and the shower have a 
 little abated ; and safely you may so do, for 
 there is not a man of our name that will be- 
 tray you, if I but say that you place yourself 
 friendless in their friendly hands." 
 
 With these words, he blew a silver whistle, 
 that hung by a small chain from his baldric, 
 and some dozen or a score of young men, fol- 
 lowed by a number of dogs, made their ap- 
 pearance. These were all the train that Ce- 
 lestine had with him, and he briefly told them 
 
^.^ 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 129 
 
 iiow they were to comport themselves towards 
 the Prince~to die in his defence, and to put 
 to death whomever they suspected of meditat- 
 mg any wrong against him. 
 
 They made no response, but looked at the 
 Lord James; and then each taking the other 
 by the hand, they enclosed liim around, there- 
 by intimating that they were as one, and as 
 such would defend him. 
 
 The cloud that had fallen upon the spirit 
 of the Lord James was cleared away bv this 
 courageous demonstration, and he took his 
 kmsman by the hand, saying— 
 
 " ^ ^^"^^ "^y^elf, Celestine, upon you and 
 the honour of your clan--carry -e whereso- 
 ever you please." 
 
 Thus it came to pass, that on the same day 
 on which Sir Robert Gr^me was taken by 
 Glenfruin to the Earl of Athol, the Lord 
 James, in the company of his kinsman, 
 arrived at Kilchurn, on Loch Aw side 
 whore, under the name of Sir Aulay Macau! ' 
 
 F 2 
 
If ff^r-' 
 
 ':! 
 
 
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 ll; i||! 
 
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 130 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 lay of Cairndhue, a famous hunter in those 
 days, he was introduced to the seneschal and 
 other of the officers. 
 
 But the Lady had no sooner cast her eyes 
 upon him, than she discovered the swarthy 
 lineaments of her father's race, and at once sus- 
 pected his name and degree ; but she repressed 
 her surprise and emotion, not knowing whe- 
 ther her son had any suspicion of the rank of 
 his guest, of whom he spoke as having fallen 
 in with at the chase, and had brought to taste 
 the apples of Froach Elain, and to prove the 
 good cheer of Kilchurn for a night. 
 
 " I trust, however,'''' said Celestine, " that 
 it will fare ill with us if we cannot tempt him 
 to abide a little longer ; for there are deer in 
 Knapdale of a bolder breed than any he has 
 yet driven in Cowal or Lorn." 
 
 This speech made the Lady of Loch Aw 
 still more suspect that Celestine had no ima- 
 gination of who his guest was, while the sus- 
 picion, which the appearance of the Lord 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 131 
 
 James had at the first sight inspired, was con- 
 firmed by the sound of his voice, when he re- 
 
 joined in a seeming simple manner— 
 
 " I shall gladly partake of your pastime 
 
 for a day or two,-and had I my own hounds 
 
 here, I doubt not we should have good 
 
 sport.** 
 
 " Then you have left your dogs in Len- 
 nox ?- said the Lady ; and she looked signifi- 
 cantly, as if she wished he might divine the 
 equivocal sense of her question ; nor was he 
 dull of discerninf' what she meant. 
 
 " Yes, Lady," said he, « the best I have are 
 th^e, I should say had, for they are no 
 longer mine." 
 
 Celestine, without having observed the ear- 
 nestness with which his mother had regarded 
 their guest, and not particularly noting the 
 strain of this discourse, here interposed, say- 
 ing— 
 
 " But we account our dogs better than 
 those of Lennox ; and I will show you in the 
 
132 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 morning five brace that may not be matched 
 between the Clyde and Lochness." 
 
 The Lady of Loch Aw then led them to 
 her bower-chamber, where she said to the 
 stranger— 
 
 "It has been rumoured, that the King has 
 restored the earldom of Lennox to the Duchess 
 of Albany/"* 
 
 The Lord James, who had not till that mo- 
 ment heard aught of this intention, started, 
 and had almost forgotten the part of Sir 
 Aulay Macaulay; but the Lady suddenly 
 and secretly touched him on the arm, and 
 with a look that made him on the instant dis- 
 trust the honesty of his friend Celestine, put 
 him on his guard. 
 
 " The King," said he, " could do nothing 
 
 more gracious. The Duchess'' 
 
 He would have added some commiserative 
 sentiment on the woful and dejected condition 
 of his mother, but the remembrance of the 
 fate of his father and brothers rushed upon 
 
 m m 
 
 ■■■ri' '."lii 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 133 
 
 him, and he was obliged to turn aside to con- 
 ceal his agitation and sorrow. 
 
 Celestine saw his emotion, and would have 
 immediately disclosed the secret to his mother, 
 but at that moment a messenger came into the 
 chamber with letters from Sir Duncan, saying 
 how much he took it to heart to hear it report- 
 ed that their son Celestine had joined Macdo- 
 nald at Inverness, and praying it might not 
 be so ; telling her, at the same time, in what 
 manner the rebellious chieftain had come se- 
 cretly to Holy rood-house, and had there thrown 
 himself upon the King's mercy. 
 
 Seeing her son then present, and having re- 
 ceived no sign nor intimation from him to 
 make her think he had embarked in the re- 
 bellion, at the same time fearful lest th^ stran- 
 ger should be indeed Sir Aulay Macaulay, 
 she did not venture to say or do any thing 
 that might bring on a disclosure from Celes- 
 tine ; for the rebellion being ended by the 
 manner in which Macdonald had surrendered 
 
134 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 himself, it became necessary to keep the se- 
 crets of those who had engaged in it ; and she 
 knew not how Sir Aulay Macaulay stood af- 
 fected, either with rey \} the King or to 
 the Albanies. All this .used a sudden air 
 of restraint and embarrassment to become vi- 
 sible in her demeanour, and she gave the 
 letter to Celestine in so particular a manner, 
 that he retired towards a window to read it 
 apart. 
 
 The Loiv^ James remarked what was pass- 
 ing, and seeing mystery and the interchange 
 of expressive looks between the Lady and her 
 son, became uneasy, and doubted the safety 
 that he had been promised ; and his appre- 
 hensions were augmented almost to alarm by 
 the Lady, while Celestine was reading the 
 letter in the window-bower, coming to him, 
 and saying softly, that she might not be over- 
 heard— ' 
 
 " You knovr. Sir Aulay, that Duke Mur- 
 d<x;h was my brother, and therefore I beseech 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 135 
 
 you, if you have heard any tidings of the 
 Lord James, to let me know what you have 
 heard ?" 
 
 These words she accompanied with so much 
 of tenderness and grief in her voice, and a 
 look so much more pregnant than her words, 
 that he could not but discern she had dis- 
 covered him ; while, by what he had noted, he 
 was led to think she desired it might still be 
 thought that she knew him not. Instead 
 therefore, of making any reply, he took her 
 hastily by the hand, and, glancing with alarm 
 towards Celestine, said to her in a whisper, 
 " Save me !" 
 
 Knowing how much her son leant to her 
 affections for the relics of her fiither's family, 
 she would have assured the Lord James that 
 he was safe to trust himself with Celestine, 
 whom she now supposed entirely ignorant of 
 his true name and condition ; but the rebel- 
 lion being over, and the rigour of the King's 
 justice having taught her to dread the conse- 
 
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 1J36 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 quences that might ensue to those who had 
 taken any part in it, and anxious to keep Celes- 
 tine free from all suspicion of blame, believing 
 that the rumour of his having been at Inver- 
 ness was unfounded, she deemed it prudent 
 to allow him to remain in his supposed igno- 
 rance, and still to affect to treat her nephew 
 as Sir Aulay Macaulay. Accordingly, when 
 she perceived that Celestine had made an end 
 of reading his father's letter, she said to 
 him — 
 
 " I beseech you to call home your bro- 
 thers, Colin and Galespic, whom I see yon- 
 der in a boat on the loch by themselves. Go, 
 I beg, for they are yet but mere boys, and 
 the wind is strong and their sail broad." 
 
 Celestine looked from the window and saw 
 his brothers, but in no such jeopardy as his 
 mother seemed to fear. She, however, feign- 
 ed to be still more alarmed, in so much, that 
 he was obliged to go hastily, leaving the 
 Lord James alone with her. Her anxiety 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 137 
 
 was however but a device, to procure an 
 opportunity of conferring with her nephew in 
 secret, and also to remove her son from the 
 danger of being accused of abetting in any 
 manner his outlawed and sentenced kins- 
 man. 
 
 " This house," said she, the moment they 
 were by themselves, " is no place for you." 
 And then, with a hasty summons, she called 
 Father Donich, her confessor and chaplain, 
 whom, with a brief injunction, she desired to 
 convey him, unobserved if possible, to his cell 
 on Inish Ail, one of the small islands in the 
 lake. « He will remain with you there till 
 I have time, before the evening, to devise 
 some way of conducting him to a place of 
 greater security." 
 
 The weight of his misfortunes so pressed 
 upon the spirit of the Lord James, when he 
 found himself betrayed, as he thought, by the 
 perfidy of his kinsman, into a place of danger, 
 that he parted listlessly from the Lady of 
 

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 138 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 Loch Aw, and followed the old monk out of 
 the castle, heedless and almost unconscious 
 of the way he went. But they had not pro- 
 ceeded far, till indignation against his treacher- 
 ous kinsman, as he deemed Celestine, roused 
 his spirit, and perceiving that there was faith 
 and truth in the character of Father Donich, 
 he disclosed himself to him ; and after some 
 controversy, wherein the chaplain urged him 
 to trust to the Lady of Loch Aw, it was 
 agreed that they should travel into Lennox- 
 shire together, 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 139 
 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 The King's counsellors, with Sir William 
 Chrichton the Chancellor, having, in the 
 meanwhile, determined that Macdonald should 
 be held in durance, he wa'i sent a close pri- 
 soner to the fortalice of Tantallon ; and the 
 court thereafter moved from Edinburgh to 
 Scoone, where the clergy in great numbers, 
 with Bishop Wardlaw at their head, came 
 flocking to congratulate his Majesty on the 
 speedy dissolution of the rebellion. 
 
 " All temporal concerns,'' said the Bishop, 
 ** are flourishing with a great prosperity under 
 the benign influence of your Majesty's foster- 
 ing wisdom, but things of eternal import are 
 perishing without succour. The abbeys, that 
 were plundered in the misrule which so long 
 afflicted this poor realm, are still in ruins; 
 
Ill 
 
 140 THE 8PAEWIFE. 
 
 and in the roofless churches the owl still wor- 
 ships desolation on those altars where holy 
 men should serve the mass. Alas! many 
 houses of piety, reared by that blessed mcj- 
 narch, your sainted ancestor King David the 
 First, have become the habitations of doleful 
 creatures," 
 
 " Yes," replied his Majesty, " that same 
 blessed monarch was a costly saint to the 
 crown ; he scarcely left his sinful successors 
 wherewithal to purchase a pardon." 
 
 Many of the churchmen, hearing his Ma- 
 jesty speak with this seeming irreverence of 
 the holiest of all his royal ancestors, lifted 
 up their hands and rolled their eyes, and some 
 among them were in great ire. The which 
 being observed by the King, he added— 
 
 " My good Bishop Wardlaw, I say not 
 this out of any lack of respect towards the 
 church ; for there is not one of all your breth- 
 ren, whether he wear mitre or cowl, that 
 more truly reveres the blissful tidings of re- 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 141 
 
 ligion, than docs the sinner that now speaks 
 to you ; but to pierce the heavens with gold- 
 en pinnacles, like our holy ancestor, is not, in 
 my }X)or judgment, the best way to gain ad- 
 mission ; yet something is due from me, in 
 token of gratitude for the success which has 
 hitherto crowned my endeavours to resusci- 
 tate justice and the renovation of law in 
 Scotland ; and I shall speedily evince the 
 sincerity of my desire to prove that this is no 
 profession of idle courtesy." 
 
 These words were comfortable in the ears 
 of the churchmen, and so emboldened the 
 Superior of the Black Friars of Dumbarton, 
 that he ettled forward, and said— 
 
 " But it is not enough for your Majesty to 
 consider only the condition of the religious 
 houses ; we beseech you to look at the great 
 molestation which we sustain in our goods 
 and persons. Many laics meddle with things 
 ecclesiastical in a way never before heard of 
 in any Christian land. There was a pious 
 
142 
 
 i 
 
 #■ 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 brotlicr of my house, by name Father Mungo 
 
 — O ! he was a precious vessel, a light and 
 
 an ornament to all the church/' 
 « What of him ?" said the King. 
 " On the very same night in which your 
 
 Majesty so happily rescued the town of Dum- 
 barton from the Lord James, an uncircumcis- 
 ed Highland schore put him to death. Whe- 
 ther his martyrdom was by tree or liy steel, by 
 flood or by fire, we have never learnt, being 
 in no condition to bring the criminal to jus- 
 tice." 
 
 " On that night !'' said his Majpsty thought- 
 fully. — « Did the friar of whom you speak 
 belong to Bishop Finlay's friends ? for you 
 know, Father, that it has been quite as much 
 the custom for ecclesiastics to meddle with 
 things secular, as for laics to meddle with 
 things ecclesiastical." 
 
 " O, no !" replied the Prior of the Black 
 Friars—*' Father Mungo was a guileless saint. 
 He was not a man that would have ioined 
 
 6 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 143 
 
 liimself to any plot of such a traitor as Bishop 
 Finlay." 
 
 " Then perhaps he was on our side ? and 
 the chieftain — what was his name ?'' 
 
 *" Glenfniin." 
 
 " Glenfruin ! — was he engaged in that re- 
 bellion ? — Surely I have heard this story be- 
 fore/' 
 
 " Tliat were a hard thing to say ; for, at 
 least, he took no open part in the work.'' 
 
 The King made no remark on this; but 
 for a short space communed with himself, and 
 then said — 
 
 " But, however it may have been with 
 Glenfruin, it is not fit that such irresponsible 
 justice should be executed on any man, far 
 less on a reverend churchman. We shall 
 give orders to sift this matter, and Glenfruin 
 shall be made to account for what he has 
 done." 
 
 His Majesty then taking Bishop Wardlaw 
 aside, while those who had come into the 
 
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 i 
 
 I'S 
 
 1 
 
 1 i 
 
 144 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 presence with him were retiring, informed 
 him, that he was minded to found a house to 
 the glory of God in the city of Perth, and 
 commanded him to remain at Scoone until the 
 needful preparations were made. 
 
 Now it came to pass, as they were dis- 
 coursing of this matter together, that the 
 Earl of Athol came into the chamber with 
 the petition of Sir Robert Graeme in his 
 hand, and went towards the King to present 
 it. His Majesty observing him, said, with his 
 freest urbanity — 
 
 " What great favour would our good un- 
 cle, that he comes to us with such elaboration 
 of homage ? This is something, my Lord, 
 that you either fear will not be granted, or 
 think should not." With these words his 
 Majesty took the paper from the Earl ; but 
 when, at the first glance, he saw it was a pe- 
 tition for the remission of a punishment, he 
 folded it up, and said gravely — 
 
 " I am grieved, my Lord, to refuse any 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. [^ 
 
 solicitation preferred by you; but the time 
 
 «ay be rescnded i„ Scotland. Here have 
 C^^r^f-^^-f the church, compil 
 
 mg of what they still suffer from the „Lle 
 
 and tyrannyofthose to whom power hasren 
 u"-se.y delegated. Take back the pap^r 
 
 I have not even looked at the name of thi 
 petitioner." ^"^ 
 
 " My gracious Liege," exclaimed the 
 Earl, movmg, as if averse to r» • T 
 petition. '""^•^'^ the 
 
 "I am not to be entreated in such things" 
 md the King severely : « I have t„.^ 
 
 that til, X have search^ed those :yttC: 
 -rce, wluch have made this unhappy kW 
 
 <' m one constant theatre of crimfl shall 
 esteem myself, even with all endeavour to th 
 contrary, but as a candidate on prob 
 t<>^g.eat office to whichProvideneehascalS 
 
 ^' From whom is the petition ..'said Bishop 
 
!■' ■! 
 
 I!'i.i 
 
 146 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 Wardlaw apart; for his Majesty in so speak- 
 
 nghad turned away. 
 
 " From my kinsmain, Sir Robert Graeme/' 
 " Do you, my Lord," exclaimed the Bishop, 
 
 amazed to hear this,—" do you petition for 
 
 a pardon to him ?" 
 
 The King having partly overheard the 
 
 Bishop's words, turned quickly round, and 
 
 said— 
 
 « Who is the petitioner ?" 
 
 " A bold and dangerous man," rephed the 
 Earl, scarcely aware of what he said, so 
 much had the sharp speech and keen look of 
 Bishop Wardlaw disturbed the resolution 
 wherewith he had prepared himself for the 
 
 interview. 
 
 " And for these quahties," exclmmed his 
 Majesty, " would you ask his pardon ? Tell 
 me at once that he is the King of Scotland, 
 and that we are but permitted to hold the 
 crown through his forbearance. Let me ne- 
 ' ver hear such words again. Eighteen years. 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 147 
 
 with the name of prisoner, I was exiled from 
 my nghts, and in that time crimes were al 
 lowed to grow to customs among you.-How 
 am I aided in the endeavour to lessen such 
 misery, when great and good men like you 
 Lord Athol, set yourselves forward as the 
 advocates of bold and dangerous offenders. 
 It chafes my very heart, to think that there is 
 never to be an end to the habitude of mis- 
 rule, wh.ch has made the name of the wild 
 Scot a proverb for shame throughout Chris- 
 tendorn. But what is your friend called ?" 
 
 « He is no friend of mine," replied the 
 Earl diffidently; "the petition is from Sir 
 Robert Grasme." 
 
 " Sir Kobert Gr^me ! I have ever repent- 
 ed the indulgence shown to that man. It 
 haunts me," said the King, " hke the memory 
 of a foul deed in a troubled conscience- it 
 comes upon my spirit at times like the fear 
 that is said to follow guilt. And you, my 
 Lord, who were so opposed to that indul- 
 
I 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 u 
 
 
 I ill 
 
 •■ 'ill 
 
 148 
 
 THE 8PAEWIFE. 
 
 gence, how is it that you now would sue for 
 his pardon ? I have no taint of superstition, 
 hut such accidents seem almost portentous." 
 
 Bishop Wardlaw, who had stood surprised 
 to observe the King in this mood, turned to 
 the Earl, and added— 
 
 " It was an evil hour, and under some ma- 
 lignant planet, when you ravelled yourself 
 with the knotted yarn of that bad man's des- 
 tiny." 
 
 The Earl trembled, and became pale, and 
 could not for some time master the perturba- 
 tion into which he was thrown by these chid- 
 ings. 
 
 The King, seeing his agitation, softened 
 his voice, and said to him in a soothing man- 
 ner— 
 
 " But I doubt not that, in all things, you 
 have ever considered what at the time was 
 best ; and though no good has come, or can 
 come, from the lenity shown to Sir Robert 
 Graeme, yet I do acquit you, my Lord, of all 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 149 
 
 Wame with respect to u. Not so, however, 
 w.th respect to this; though to say truly, 
 I know not well wherefore, and, with as little 
 ~ .t is perhaps, that I say I wish you 
 ''«d not singled the honours and merits of 
 your own unblemished life with the devices 
 and crimes of that stubborn traitor." 
 
 " How is it," .aid the Earl composedly, 
 that, whde your Majesty says my life y^ 
 '•een unblemished, occasion is taken from the 
 case of an unfortunate kinsman to subject me 
 'o a degree of reproof, as if I had myself in 
 -me way offended. My Lord Bishop here 
 «ap,ousandanhonestman. I should have 
 felt contntion, could I have, even in thought 
 questioned his integrity. He is building a 
 7 ^"^ ^*^'«ly college at St Andrews- he 
 
 chants and attends mass; not a priest of the 
 church is more exemplary; I have never 
 heard that the merits of his virtues and en 
 devours have laid him open to any suspi. 
 
150 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 i i 
 
 « My Lord— Lord Athol," said the King, 
 raising his left hand, as if he would have 
 delivered a rebuke or an admonition; but 
 suddenly dropping it, he added—" Surely 
 I cannot have incurred the displeasure of my 
 good uncle, whom, ever since I came into 
 this kingdom, which I do verily think holds 
 one continued earthquake from the border 
 to the utmost cape of the north, I have found 
 the most discreet and freest spoken of all my 
 friends. But my choler was moved at hear- 
 ing the saucy complaints of those churchmen 
 against the meddling of the laity, even in 
 a case of treason, wherein an audacious priest, 
 I mean Bishop Finlay, was the chief instiga- 
 tor and mainspring of rebellion. If I have 
 spoken hastily, my Lord, beshrew me if I 
 shall not be most eager to manifest my con- 
 trition. But, Sir Robert Graeme— why have 
 you come to me with any cause of his ? why 
 rather, I should say, have you taken such an 
 infection from his seditious spirit, as to ask 
 
 i i'li! 
 
even in 
 
 THE SPAEWIFB. 151 
 
 me to remit his sentence,— a sentence which, 
 at the time, neither mj own mind, nor the 
 judgment of the wisest of my council, ap- 
 proved, for it went upon the notion that he 
 might become an honest man ? However, to " 
 say no more of that, as it is impossible for 
 the King's arms, long as they may be, to 
 reach to every quarter, I wish you, and such 
 noblemen as are of unquestionable fidelity, 
 to repair again to your several castles, and 
 each, within his own province, emulate the 
 administration which we intend to exercise 
 m ours. Know you any thing of a chieftain 
 m Lennox called Glenfruin ?" 
 
 " I have heard of him," replied the Earl, 
 " and it is said that he holds the unfortunate 
 Duchess of Albany prisoner, in order to 
 extort a ransom for her deliv ranee." 
 
 " When did you hear this ? why was not I 
 sooner told ?" exclaimed tie King. « Could 
 you come here to petition for a traitor like 
 Sir Robert Graeme, and know that so noble a 
 
r^ 
 
 lii 
 
 \59l 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 lady was in the reverence of such a barba- 
 rian ? for nothing less can I account this Glen- 
 fruin, who, out of his own caprice, committed 
 martyrdom on an innocent, holy, and blame- 
 less friar. You ought, my Lord, to have 
 told me of this first. I will listen to no ques- 
 tion till orders are sent for the deliverance of 
 the Duchess of Albany." 
 
 " I beseech your Majesty for one word,'' 
 replied the Earl ; «« Glenfruin is a staunch 
 and true subject.'''' 
 
 " Then let it be shown that he respects 
 justice— justice, which, to the sacrifice of my 
 own sentiments as a man, I have so strenu- 
 ously endeavoured to revive. I have, my 
 Lord, not spared, in that endeavour, the 
 greatest and the most honoured of my own 
 kinsmen; and the principle that made me 
 bring them to the scaffold is not impaired, 
 nor, while I retain that sense of my royal 
 office with which I returned into this realm, 
 will I allow it to suffer any occultation," 
 
THE SPAEWIF^. 153 
 
 The Earl, though awed by the vehemence 
 of his Majesty, yet retained his self-posses- 
 sion, and said 
 
 " It belongs not to me lo execute whatever 
 may be your Majesty's pleasure upon Glen- 
 tru.n, or upon any other of the untractable 
 ch>eftams, but in my own country I shall not 
 he found wanting in ray duty." 
 
 « Then go to your own country," said the 
 King abruptly, " and see that it is so." But 
 m a moment his Majesty felt that he had 
 dealt hardly towards so venerable and esteem- 
 ed a person as the Earl of Athol, and he 
 added-" I ^ould, my Lord, that I could 
 endure these things more patiently. But 
 g»od Bishop Wardiaw here knows, that the 
 mamfold complaints with which I am beset 
 and they are all just, gall my very spirit ; for' 
 I am a young man, and the old are too prone 
 to their own sordid intents to lend me that 
 true help, by which alone I can hope to over 
 come the difficulties wherewith my royal e,- 
 
 g2 
 
 Uv. 
 
 . (I 
 
il<tr"^ 
 
 "'If 
 
 1 ' 
 
 
 1 
 
 
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 I :ii 
 
 154 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 tate is environed. Yet I will put no harder 
 task upon you, than this simple request,— Go 
 to your own castle, and be there the same 
 discreet, wise, and just man that I have ever 
 thought and found you, but have no more 
 dealings or correspondence with Sir Robert 
 Grteme." 
 
 The Earl, without making any answer, 
 humbly retired ; and when he was gone, the 
 King said to Bishop Wardlaw— 
 
 " I know not wherefore it is that I have 
 been so moved by this matter ; but the mo- 
 ment that the Earl presented yon paper, I 
 felt as if an irresistible influence caused some 
 hidden antipathy of my nature to awake, 
 and I became, as it were, wroth towards him, 
 not having any sufficient cause to be so; for, 
 after all, what he did was but in Christian 
 charity. I pray that no harm come to him 
 from Sir Robert Graeme."" 
 
 " Amen !" responded the Bishop piously. 
 The King, however, instead of continuing 
 
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 1 
 
 HB ' 
 
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THE SPAEWIFE. I55 
 
 the conversation, moved thoughtfully towards 
 the door which led into his privy-chamber; 
 but before going in he turned round and 
 said— 
 
 « That busiv.ess of Glenfruin and the monk 
 shall be speedily investigated. I now remem- 
 ber, ,t was the Lady Sibilla who told me some- 
 thing of the affair, but not as the prior has 
 stated u. But, truly, I am more disturbed that 
 he should h»,ve dared to touch the Duchess, 
 than for th. offence he has given to the church. 
 But we shail know the truth without loss of 
 t'me; for this very night I will summon him 
 before us." 
 
 So saying his Majesty withdrew; and the 
 same evening a herald, with horn and mantle, 
 -va-s sent to the castle of Glenfruin to brin. 
 that chief before the King in council. 
 

 N 
 
 156 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 m4 
 
 i 
 
 ■fill I 
 
 ill 
 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 
 When the Lady Sibilia heard that tlie King's 
 council had sent her father to Tantallon, she 
 supphcated the Countess of Ross to retire 
 from the court ; to the which that lady was 
 the more inclined, by the failure of divers en- 
 deavours on her part to obtain some remission 
 of the sentence entered against her brother 
 Macdonald. But though consent was readi- 
 ly given by the Queen to their retreat, not, 
 however, without sorrow at parting with Si- 
 bilia, it was thought prudent by many of the 
 council, that these ladies should not at that 
 time be permitted to go either into the north 
 or to the Isles. 
 
 This prudence proceeded from two causes ; 
 first, because the Countess of Ross was vehe- 
 mently attached to her brother, and so loudly 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 357 
 
 malcontent at tlie severity with which she 
 considered him treated, in contempt as it 
 were of the frankness of his surrender and 
 homage to the King, that it was feared she 
 might again stir up the rebelhon, whereof, 
 though the flame was out, the embers were 
 still aHve ; and, secondly, on account of the 
 bruit spread abroad, that after the .reaking 
 up of the camp at Inverness, the Lord Jamet 
 had retired into the Western Highlands, 
 where he was lurking for another opportunity 
 to molest the peace of the kingdom, and, 
 where it was thought, if the Lady Sibilla 
 went to her father's country, she would, from 
 the known spirit of her character, not fail to 
 do all in her power to forward the cause of 
 her betrothed lover. Accordingly, instead of 
 being permitted to go either into the north or 
 to Skye, those disconsolate ladies had only 
 leave to retire from court to the nunnery of 
 Inch Colm, in the frith of Forth, where for 
 a time they remained in peaceful sequestration, 
 
 1 
 
158 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 while those events were fast coming on, in 
 the rehearsal whereof it is now expedient to 
 proceed with a free and fluent pen. 
 
 The chivalarous horn, which was heard at 
 the gate of Glenfruin when he so unwitting- 
 ly offended the dainty ears of Leddy Glen- 
 juckie, was the summons of the herald sent 
 by the King to bring that chieftain to answer 
 for the charge preferred against him for the 
 death of Father Mungo, and for holding the 
 Duchess of Albany prisoner. 
 
 On seeing the approach of the herald and 
 his retinue towards the castle, the warders, 
 according to custom on the appearance of 
 strangers, had shut the gate ; and Glenfruin, 
 when he left the leddy with his daughters^ 
 went to the top of the embattled wall over 
 the entrance to parley with the summoner. 
 
 Keith, the herald, in due form, having de- 
 clared his office, demanded admission— a re- 
 quest which the chieftain did not very well 
 know how to refuse, but which, somehow, he 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 159 
 
 knew not wherefore, he was not much indin- 
 ed to grant. He was not conscious of having 
 done any thing to bring upon him the royal 
 displeasure ; but what he had heard from the 
 Earl o? Athol with respect to the Duchess, 
 and the little encouragement that he had re- 
 ceived for seizing Sir Robert Graeme, made 
 him uneasy and apprehensive, and these feel- 
 ings led him to say, without affe-^ting to have 
 heard the demand of admission, 
 
 " Aye, and so ye'U pe te King's herald— 
 it's a praw ting to pe te King's herald, tat we 
 al must alloo — oomph ! and was her Majestic 
 in te goot hell, and te Queen hersel too?— 
 for te Glenfruins wish tem paith, al every 
 mother's son of 'em very well, and in te goot 
 hell — oomph." 
 
 " But," replied the herald, « this is no 
 place for such discourse; I must execute 
 my commission, and therefore I pray you to 
 order the gates to be opened." 
 
 " Sowlls and podies ! laads below tere, will 
 
 Hi 
 
 M\t I 
 
! i!J 
 
 160 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 ye no pe opening te doors ?^' At the same time, 
 looking down at the men who were standing 
 in the gateway, he gave them a sign to be in 
 no hurry, and turning round to the herald, 
 he said — 
 
 " Aye, and so ye'll pe with te King's or- 
 der and commeeshion, and what will te order 
 pe apout ?" 
 
 " Do you know any thing of a monk," re- 
 plied the herald, " that was seen in this neigh- 
 bourhood about the time of the burning of 
 Dumbarton ?" 
 
 " Ooh, aye !" exclaimed the innocent-heart- 
 ed Glenfruin, « there came one o' tose tings till 
 us tat night, put we kilt her." 
 
 Keith, the herald, looked aghast, as did also 
 those who were of his retinue, at hearing the 
 stalwart chieftain speak in that manner of the 
 martyrdom of a churchman— so they were 
 taught to believe the fate of Father Mungo 
 had been, and they wished that the gates 
 might not be opened. Glenfruin observing 
 
 c 
 a 
 
 I 
 
 g 
 
THE SPAEWIFjB. 161 
 
 that they were in some degree daunted, 
 though he knew not the cause, added— 
 
 An is't a to-be-surely, tat te King's 
 herald will pe come for te caaz o' Faider 
 Mungo ? Ah ! he was te lamb in te wolf's 
 clothing." 
 
 " But you are also summoned," replied the 
 herald, mustering all his courage, « to answer 
 for the detention of the noble Duchess of 
 Albany." 
 
 " Sowlls and podies f for mi Laidie Tooches ' 
 -^mph I Nigel, I say, Nigel, will ye no 
 pring her Grace to te King's herald ? She s 
 a free-my Got, she's a pird in te air, and a 
 fish in te sea— oomph." 
 
 On hearing that the Duchess was in the 
 castle, the herald's fears in some measure 
 abated, and he became again a little more 
 peremptory in his accent. 
 
 " So much the better it will be for you, 
 Glenfruin, that her Grace is but as your 
 guest," said he. " However, as my orders 
 
 
Ml 
 
 162 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 are to carry you before his Majesty, where 
 you will explain these things, to save all far- 
 ther trouble, order the gates to be immedi- 
 ately opened ; for if I am kept much longer 
 here, I shall return at once, and report you 
 as contumacious, and a resister of the King's 
 authority." 
 
 " SowUs and podies ! and will ye pe caling 
 Glenfrui'i n repel, wha is te honest man, and 
 al his clan too ? — oomph ! a repel, tafs a pe- 
 nediction and a rewart for our servitudes in 
 te repellion — oomph ! will ye pe taking our 
 lands? will ye pe cutting our heads ?— oomph I 
 a repel, isn't a repel a traitor man ? — Sowlls 
 and podies ! Glenfruin a repel ! — Oomph !" 
 
 " I demand admittance in the King's 
 name," cried the herald with a loud and so- 
 norous voice that startled the echoes around, 
 and made the heart of Glenfruin quake. 
 
 In the meantime, the ladies within the 
 castle had mounted to the battlements of the 
 tower, and standing there, heard the latter part 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 163 
 
 of this colloquy. The chieftain ^erc * ving the 
 risk he ran of being reported as a resister of 
 the King's authority if he longer refused ad- 
 mission, hastily turned round, and ordered 
 his men in the court to open the gates. At 
 the same time casting his eyes towards the 
 battlements where the ladies were standing, 
 and seeing Leddy denjuckie, in order to 
 conceal his uneasiness, he affected to be gal- 
 lantly facetious, and said to her— 
 
 " And is't a to-be-surely, my goot Laidie 
 Lamelegs, tat ye'll pe tere a pigeon dove. 
 SowUs and podies ! I took you al tis time for 
 a wee winking witch o' a hoolet." 
 
 « You're a hobgoblin, a Mahound!" exclaim- 
 ed the indignant Leddy Glenjuckie; " and now 
 you shall know what it is to insult ladies." 
 
 By this time the gate had been opened, 
 and Keith, having come into the court of the 
 castle, heard the lady's complaint ; but Glen^ 
 fruin, with a significant glance of his eye up- 
 wards, and touching at the same time his fore- 
 
 'ih 
 
 n't 
 
 
I ! !P 
 
 164 THE SPAeWIFE. 
 
 head with his finger, said, intending, by the 
 look and gesture, to imply that she was not 
 in her right mind, — 
 
 " It's a sore och hon, poor oold cat of de- 
 feeciencies.'' 
 
 Nor was his insinuation ill-timed ; for at 
 that moment Leddy Glenjuckie uttered a 
 shrill and strange shriek, partly of joy and 
 partly of amazement ; and the Duchess, who 
 was then at some distance on the battlements 
 apart, was so surprised thereat, that she rush- 
 ed towards her in alarm, waving at the same 
 time her hand towards two strangers, who 
 were seen ascending the castle-hill from the 
 side opposite to that Jby which the herald with 
 his retinue had come. 
 
 " Te King's herald will see," said Glen- 
 fruin, as he led the way. not without trepida- 
 tion, to the hall, " tat te laidie matam, mi 
 Laidie Tooches' maiten, matam, will pe in a 
 whirlyhoo — oomph !'' 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 165 
 
 CHAP. XV 
 
 •M 
 
 When Celestine Campbell came back from 
 his brothers to his mother, the Lady of Loch 
 Aw, and found in what temerarious man- 
 ner the Lord James had been sent from 
 Kilchurn with Bather Donich, he was much 
 troubled, and gave but little heed to all 
 that she would have said concerning the 
 guard which the jealous spirit of the times 
 required he should set upon his own con- 
 duct ; albeit she was none displeasured 
 by the ardour of his generous regret at 
 being so hampered in his intended hospi. 
 tality. 
 
 " It will be wise," said the Lady, « that 
 you know your cousin only as Sir Aulay 
 Macaulay; and whatever I may do in his 
 
16o 
 
 THE SPAEWIFK. 
 
 Ixihalf it wil] tic as woll that you know it not. 
 We have not now to think of upholding any 
 cause of his, or of my family, but only to 
 save him from the hands and machinations of 
 his enemies till he can be conveyed to some 
 place of security beyond the seas.*" 
 
 But her words fell without effect on the 
 ear of the young chieftain, who replied— 
 
 ** He has placetl himself in my hands. I 
 am pledged to my honour for his safety, even 
 though he were neither of ouriiith nor kin, and 
 I cannot abide the thought that he should 
 have left this house in any distrust. The of- 
 fence of sheltering him, outlawed and forfeit- 
 ed as he is, will not be called rebelli(m ; and 
 something from the stern justice of the King 
 will be conceded to the affection of a kins- 
 man, for succouring a poor fugitive. But 
 whether it may be so or not, I will perform 
 the task I have undertaken, and let hereafter 
 provide for the issue.*" 
 
 " But bring him not back to this house,*" 
 
 1 
 
m I 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 167 
 
 replied the Lady. « The pow-r of your fa- 
 ther's vassals is such, that the King may well 
 be jealous wtre he to hear of his bein^ with 
 us; for to keep him openly in Kilchurn, w uld 
 be to contemn the royal edicts ; and to con- 
 ceal him among us would betray a secret af- 
 fection for his fortunes, that your fath^ could 
 not easily ext mate, even in so far as affected 
 himself, notwithntandi. g his long and t led 
 devotion to the King.'' 
 
 " Then,'' said Celestine, with a sigh, " he 
 has nothing to hope for in Scotland. I found 
 him on the utmost verge of adversity ; — ^he 
 was then mindea to pass to the Isle of Rhodes; 
 and in submission tohisil! fate, and the faith- 
 less inconstancy of the daughter of JVacdo- 
 naM, he purposed to oeek admission into tiiC 
 order oi St John. I cheered the despair of 
 that resolut a with the assurance that so 
 dark an hour as then blackened over him 
 could not be far from the midnigit of his 
 misfortunes. Bu if the clan Campbell may 
 
168 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 *^' 
 
 not, or date not, give shelter to a poor stran- 
 ger who has not where to lay his head, they 
 answer not to the opinion I would hold of 
 their hospitality. For it is entertainment only 
 as a guest that I pledged myself to bestow, 
 nor would I be so disloyal to my father as to 
 tamper with the fidelity of his vassals, know- 
 ing, as I do, how freely he has undertaken to 
 the King to maintain good order and fealty 
 among them. But not to debate when I 
 should be doing, I will follow the Lord 
 James to Inish-Ail, and concert with him 
 what, in this extremity, should be done.'' 
 
 So saying, he parted from the Lady, and 
 went to the creek below the castle, where the 
 boat was lying wherein his two younger bro- 
 thers had been sailing, and stepping on board, 
 called to him four young men by name who were 
 reclining on the banks of the lake, listening to 
 the harpings of an aged bard who was re- 
 hearsing to them the song of Bera ; and the 
 thrush, which sings mellowest at the going 
 

 THE SPAEWIFE. l(jQ 
 
 down of the sun, ever and anon, from amidst 
 the boughs of a neighbouring tree, sent forth 
 to them her swt^t symphony in melodies not 
 more artless ; for it was then the elose of the 
 day, and all things around seemed composed 
 to harmony and rest. 
 
 On the northern side, the hills and woody 
 «k.rts of the lake were darkened with their 
 own shadows, and lumg over the elear depths 
 of the stillness of the sleeping waters below 
 wherein the glories of the evening sky Jay 
 reflected, as if they had been clouds envious- 
 i/ drawn between the world and some mar 
 vellous apocalypse of brightness and beauty 
 But on the southern shore, the green hills 
 with their rocks and cliffs tufted with trees 
 and hazel-the rugged ravines where the sil 
 very waterfalls here and there glance out 
 upon the brighter scen^and the mountain- 
 ash, that holds up his ruby berries amidst the 
 fadmg woods and the falhng leaves, like a 
 young hero who has dyed his sword for the 
 
 r; 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 II 
 
170 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 first time in the blood of some renowned 
 warrior, were all still glittering to the set- 
 ting sun ; and the islets on the bosom of the 
 lake seemed like argosies in a calm ; while 
 from the tower of Macnaughton, on Fraoch 
 Elain, the smoke of the evening hearth 
 streamed afar through the serene air, like the 
 wreath of the sounding galley that is yet 
 destined to waken the slumbering waters, and 
 the silent echoes of Loch Aw, the loneliest 
 and the loveliest of all the Highland lakes in 
 the still of an autumnal evening, such as that 
 on which the young Chief of the Campbells 
 embarked with his four clansmen to follow the 
 Lord James and Father Donich to the chantry 
 
 on Inish-Ail. 
 
 Thinking they had taken the road along 
 the banks of the lake, he had leapt into the 
 boat, and ordered the men to ply their oars 
 vigorously, that he might reach the island be- 
 fore them. But after his arrival there, and 
 having waited long, patiently expecting their 
 
their 
 
 THE SPAEWIPE. j^j 
 
 r?' ''^ b^g- to fear that surely so.e 
 -cancehadbeMenthe™. Stili Jue Z 
 
 t'sfied, he sent two of th^ ^u ^ 
 
 for them Th • """" '" ^^^^h 
 
 less Id , '""''^"'^' ■'—. was fruit. 
 ' J , '''^"' '"■''''■g'". -hen they came 
 •-ek wuhout tiding, he returned i S 
 churn, where his lady mother .as 1 ! 
 "-turbed than himself with fears ad! 
 fes for their safety. ^"■"'^■ 
 
 The first thought that came both to her 
 - ncl and to his, was to send out servants i^ 
 all directions to search the hills and t u 
 >-%enee wheresoever it ^ 1 c rb! 
 
 obtamed; but when they considered th- 
 derment that such solLtude w ^u "°"- 
 th-.hout the country, and the a gerZ 
 "«ght thereby arise to the fugitive tb 
 suited together and it '^ '°"- 
 
 the.thafceiX^rrr'""'^^^" 
 -----o^win;,:::^::: 
 
 «i clay make fowanU T « 
 
 -owaids Lennox, whither, in 
 
 
 V If 
 
 J : il 
 
ill 
 
 172 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 the course of the journey from Inverness to 
 Kilchurn, the Lord James had often spoke 
 of going to raise, among the friends of his mo- 
 therm's family, the means of bidding adieu to 
 Scotland for ever. 
 
 Father Donich, however, instead of keeping 
 the regular road, being well acquainted with 
 the mountain-paths and unfrequented tracks, 
 conducted his charge by a different course to 
 that which Celestine took, who passed through 
 Glencroe, and reached Loch Long head before 
 he heard any tidings of his friends. It was 
 not indeed until he had claimed entertain- 
 ment from Macfarlane, in the castle of Arro- 
 char, on the second night after his departure 
 from home, that he obtained any information 
 to guide his search. 
 
 It chanced on that night, as he was sitting 
 at supper discoursing with Macfarlane of his 
 exploits as a hunter, that he recounted to 
 him how, in returning from his late excursion 
 beyond Ben Cruachan, he had fallen in with 
 
 Jii 
 
T' 
 
 'HE SPAEWIFE. I73 
 
 Sir Aulay Macaulay. For the Macfarlane, 
 notwithstanding the insinuations of Glenfruin 
 to the contrary, happened then to be one of 
 the most orderly and loyal of all the western 
 chieftains, and on that account Celestine did 
 not choose to tell him that he had been even 
 so far as Loch Rannochside. Whether there 
 was any thing particular in the sound of his 
 voice, or in his look, when he spoke of this 
 adventure, it was certainly not remarked ei- 
 ther by Macfarlane himself, nor by any of the 
 kinsmen then seated at the table with them ; 
 but while he was speaking, he was startled by 
 the apparition of two bright and ghttering 
 eyes shining in an obscure corner in the hall 
 over against him ; and in a moment after, the 
 voice of the Spaewife was heard chanting 
 from the same place 
 
 a 
 
 " Sir Aulay Macaulay, the Laird of Cairndhue, 
 Bailie of Dumbarton, and Provost of the Rhue." 
 
 O, never mind her !" said Macfarlane ; 
 
 1 
 
 a9 
 
 
 a 
 
174 
 
 THE SPA E WIFE. 
 
 " it is that poor wandering creature, Anniple 
 of Dumblane ; she came into the hall a short 
 time before yourself. They say she knows 
 something by common ; but whether it be so 
 or not, she's a harmless thing, and is ay free 
 x}j a night's lodging here." 
 
 " Aye,'' interposed Anniple, dragging her- 
 self forward without rising ; it's well known 
 that I ken something.— 
 
 
 I li !l 
 
 •' Sir Aulay Macaulay, the Laird of Caimdhue, 
 Bailie of Dumbarton, and Provost of the Rhue." 
 
 " Well !" said Celestine, " and what know 
 you of him ? Have you seen him lately ? 
 How was it with him ?" 
 
 She, however, made no answer, but sang — 
 
 " This night beneath the greenwood tree 
 
 My love has laid him down, 
 And the bells will ring, ring merrilie, 
 
 Or they wile him to the towu." 
 
 " Who is your love ?" said Celestine eager- 
 

 THE SPAEWIFE. 17S 
 
 ly, struck by something peculiar in her 
 
 man- 
 
 ner. 
 
 " Sir AuUy MacauUy, the Laird of Cairndhue, 
 BaUic of Dumbarton, and Provost of the Rhue." 
 
 Celestine perceived that she had some no- 
 tion of the anxiety with which he had asked 
 the question; but afraid of being too curious 
 lest he might attract observation, he smiled 
 to Macfarlane, as if at Anniple's rhap- 
 sody, and, casting a slight glance towards 
 her, resumed the conversation whicli she had 
 .nterrupted. Some time after he attempted to 
 draw her into conversation; but the forlorn 
 creature had fallen asleep, and when it was 
 attempted to rouse her, she complained hke 
 an untimely awakened child, crying-" The 
 hare at night gets leave to rest, and the bird 
 may sleep on the tree, but the poor ta'en- 
 away, that's hated by all living things, 'cause 
 she's no o' God s .naking, her life's a stream 
 without a pool." 
 
 4; 
 1 
 
 • n 
 
 J] 
 
 
 ,.t»fB 
 
 
 ".^IH 
 
 
 
 
 i'^^H 
 
 
 '<'|^H 
 
 ' 
 
 ■•t' ^ 'H| 
 
 l« 
 
 V^l 
 
 
 -fiBi 
 
 in t 
 
 i;'i JB 
 
 >t^ s 
 
 Vf^l 
 
 
 'laB 
 
 ■:4 
 
 r^H 
 
 ■ ||<, 
 
 n 
 
I 
 
 ';'* i| 
 
 I 
 
 176 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 Celestine seeing her in that state, requested 
 that she might not be disturbed ; and next 
 morning he was early afoot, hoping to gather 
 from her something more intelUgible, but she 
 was gone. However, after leaving Arrochar, 
 and passing towards Tarbet, on Lochlomond 
 side, he discovered her at a distance sitting on 
 the trunk of a fallen tree ; and as soon as she 
 saw him she rose and ran forward, looking 
 occasionally behind, and indicating, by her 
 gestures, that she wished him to follow. In 
 this way she led him to Glenfruin, and to the 
 bottom of the castle-hill, where he arrived 
 soon after the Lord James and Father Do- 
 nich, who were the strangers that the Duchess 
 and Leddy Glenjuckie saw from the tower ; 
 just indeed after the chaplain, who had ad- 
 vanced to the castle, leaving his companion 
 behind, obtained admission into the hall, 
 where Glenfruin was endeavouring to ma- 
 nifest his loyalty by the exuberance of his at- 
 tentions to the herald. But, before reciting 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 177 
 
 what ensued there, it is expedient for a season 
 to resume the rehearsal of what had in the 
 meantime fallen out between the Earl of 
 Athol and Sir Robert Grseme. 
 
 4 
 
 I' 'tS 
 
 h2 
 
178 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 CHAP. XVI. 
 
 The Earl, after the King had refused to re- 
 ceive the petition, went next morning from 
 Scoone to his castle in the Blair of his country, 
 where he had left his nephew with Graeme. He 
 was malcontent, not only with himself, but 
 with what had passed, and the aspect of all 
 things. He spoke not with any of his at- 
 tendants in the course of the journey ; and, 
 when he crossed the Tay at Dunkeld, it 
 was observed by them that he neither made 
 obeisance nor presented gift, as his wonted 
 custom had ever before been, to the image 
 of St Cololn, which stood, with a lamp ever 
 burning before it, fronting the landing-place 
 of the ferry. 
 
 They, however, remarked, that from the 
 time he passed Dunkeld his manner changed. 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. I7y 
 
 now afFable and free towards the occasional 
 traveUer that halted to render homage to him 
 as he passed, but, for the most part, abrupt 
 and peevish, and sometimes abstract and 
 gloomy, signs which denoted how ill he was 
 at ease with himself. 
 
 On arriving at the castle, he rode straight 
 into the inner court without returning the 
 salutation of his officers. Stuart, who had been 
 apprised of his coming, met him at the door • 
 but even to him also he said nothing, though 
 in alighting he pressed his hand, and took 
 his arm as he moved to pass into the hall. 
 He had not, however, stepped many paces 
 from his horse, when he turned round and 
 said to one of the officers, who had advanced ^ 
 
 to assist him to alight, 
 
 « See that no stranger, of whatsoever rank 
 or degree, be admitted without my orders,— 
 save only the King himself." 
 
 Many vassals and retainers were then 
 standing around in that ward of the castle. 
 
 
 f 
 
 I'' - ^r 
 
 I 
 
 f m 
 
 iff 1'- 4| 
 
 w . 
 
180 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 I 
 
 
 and heard what he said. They had hefore 
 learnt how Stuart had left the court in anger, 
 and they remembered the doom of Duke 
 Murdoch and his sons with concern and si- 
 lence, when they saw how much their own 
 aged master was chafed and troubled : for 
 the Earl of Athol had ever been the most 
 kind of Lords, and was much beloved by all 
 bound to his servitude, whether by tenure or 
 fee. 
 
 After he had given that order to guard 
 the gate so vigilantly, he went, leaning on his 
 nephew, into the hall, where he said to him, 
 with some degree of tremor in his voice,— 
 
 " I would see Sir Robert Graeme, — send 
 him to me " 
 
 Stuart made no reply ; but with buoyant 
 steps went to the tower, where Graeme was 
 held, seemingly, in the strictest custody, and 
 bade him come to the Earl. No words passed 
 between them, but they exchanged looks preg- 
 nant with a mutual understanding of each 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 181 
 
 oi . thoughts, die fi • t of their communion 
 am iniLTcourse dwrv t th absence of the 
 Earl. 
 
 (M reaching the chamber where the Earl 
 was alone, tl y found him pacing the floor 
 with wide strides. His eyes were bent upon 
 the ground, his brows knotted with cogita- 
 tion, and he walked a. his hands behind, 
 the left firmly grasping his right arm oy the 
 wrist. 
 
 He observed them come in together, and, 
 without appearing to notice Graeme, he signi- 
 fied to his nephew, with a look and a brief 
 and abrupt wave of his hand, that he wished 
 him to retire. Stuart immediately withdrew 
 to the outside of the door, which Gramme held 
 half open. 
 
 " It was your pleasure, my Lord," said 
 Graeme, after a short pause, « to send for 
 me." 
 
 " I have been insulted on your account. Sir 
 Robert Graeme," said the Earl. " Your peti- 
 
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 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 tion has been rejected with scorn. I have en- 
 dured unexampled contumely." 
 
 Graeme smiled, and without changing his 
 position, but only taking his hand from the 
 door, which he emphatically closed, said — 
 
 " When you are King, will you give me 
 back my lands ?" 
 
 *' Sir Robert Graeme, what do you mean ?" 
 exclaimed the Earl, pausing, and looking stead- 
 fastly at him. 
 
 *' The man,"" replied Graeme, *• that has so 
 insulted you is my enemy — the common op- 
 pressor of every freeman in the realm. Our 
 causes are now joined. My life, which is a 
 trifle that I have often hazarded, I have 
 sworn to give for revenge — it is all I have 
 to give. In a word, my Lord, my heart and 
 my dagger are alike thirsty ; but they are epi- 
 cures, and will not be satisfied with less than 
 royal blood." 
 
 ** Hush, hush, Sir Robert Graeme,*" cried 
 the Earl, going hastily towards him. 
 
 1 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 183 
 
 " I am calm," replied Graeme. « I ask a 
 simple question— give me a plain answer. 
 Will you restore my lands if you are made 
 king ?" 
 
 " Surely,'^ said the Earl, « the wild condi- 
 tion to which you have been condemned must 
 have impaired your wonted discretion. You 
 have so long lived a banished man, been 
 housed in caves, and in fellowship with savage 
 beasts, that surely you have lost all reckoning 
 with the world. Have you not heard that 
 the Queen was lately delivered of two princes, 
 and though one died, the other thrives well— 
 a lively and promising prince .?'' 
 
 " My Lord," said Graeme, « in this your 
 own castle, within these your own walls, and 
 beyond all chance of escape, save with your 
 consent, you hear me openly propose trea- 
 son—why am I not arrested ? Is it not be- 
 cause you like the proposition ? Between you 
 and the throne— the baby I count as nothing 
 —stood Duke Murdoch and his sons. Thanks 
 
184 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 to that justice which has no respect for kith 
 or kin — they are i-emoved.'" 
 
 " Your words, your purposes appal me, 
 hke the prophecies of an oracle. I may not 
 listen to such things,"" exclaimed the Earl ; 
 " but you are a banished and an oppressed 
 man, and I can pity you."" 
 
 " Will you assist me ?" 
 
 " In what would you have my assistance ? 
 Have I not carried your petition to the King ? 
 Have I not been all but spurned for present- 
 ing it ?" 
 
 " Well, well — ^but will you help me to re- 
 dress yours, and my own wrongs ?" 
 
 " How ?'' 
 
 " Why, my Lord, need you so much 
 explanation? Briefly then: If I master 
 the tyrant, and place you in his seat, will 
 you reverse the sentence under which I 
 suffer ?" 
 
 " Sir Robert Graeme, it is easy to promise 
 much, but the chances of my ever being call- 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 185 
 
 ed to the performance is now hopeless. Have 
 I not told you of the Prmce ?'' 
 
 " How very merciful^ in such a business as 
 this, to think of a helpless and harmless 
 baby !" 
 
 The Earl, finding himself as it were over- 
 powered by the demon who so openly tempt- 
 ed him, replied slowly and hesitatingly — 
 
 " Be not so headstrong — ^let me have time 
 to consider of what you would undert'^ke-— 
 the hazards — the risks of the failure— the 
 guilt of the success— the long preparations— 
 the horrible death.'"* 
 
 Grseme, after a momentary pause, said— 
 
 " As to heads stuck on pikes over the city 
 gate, and limbs tainting the air from the four 
 quarters of the kingdom, — I shudder but with 
 the thought of the vile mortalities, worse than 
 maggots, which such things engender among 
 louts and clowns as they drive their sheep and 
 kine to market. My Lord, if my honesty of- 
 fends you, let me go forth from the castle. You 
 
186 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 may permit so much to be done to help you 
 to the throne. You do not bid me go. The 
 worst thing that can befall us is but to die— 
 and when that which is the man hath quitted 
 the clay let the carcass rot. Do the cooks 
 and carvers in your hall inflict anguish in 
 their vocations ? and if we are destined to 
 die the death of traitors, will the afterwork 
 of the hangman make us feel more .?" 
 
 " These peals of terror ma}' amuse your 
 fancy, Sir Robert Graeme," replied the Earl 
 firmly, and with something of his accustomed 
 lordliness, " but I have all my life been a 
 man averse to blood, nor do I sec that to re- 
 gain my natural rights, so wrongfully abrogat- 
 ed, there is any necessity to take the King's 
 life. Had we his person in our power here, 
 or could by any device carry him off from 
 the midst of his government, I would ask 
 no more, — nor to more will I lend myself, 
 if even to so much, when I may have sifted 
 the risks of the matter more thoroughly." 
 
THE SPAEWIFE, 
 
 187 
 
 " My Lord," said Graeme with undaunted 
 
 coolness, « it is plain to me that this is not 
 
 the first time you have thought of this matter 
 
 — I doubt not you have long considered it 
 well." 
 
 " To slay the King," replied the Earl, dis- 
 mayed by his familiar boldness, " is a crime 
 to which I can never be consenting. But I 
 have a tower that stands far in the sea, upon 
 a steep and almost inaccessible rock— no sail 
 is ever seen from its narrow windows by the 
 melancholy warders, save the solitary ferry- 
 boat in the sununer calms, or in the wintry 
 mornings after a tempest, some unfortunate 
 vessel, with her crew all dead, clinging and 
 frozen to the rigging." 
 
 " The safest prison for a King," rephed 
 Graeme with a sneer, « is the grave— there is 
 no key, bolt, nor jailor, that can be safely 
 trusted with such a charge but the spade." 
 
 " I will never," cried the Earl, " stain my 
 hands with blood." 
 
 T*^» 
 
188 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 " Very well, let it be so," replied Graeme ; 
 " there are apothecaries and skilful cooks ; 
 Cannot you procure leave for one to spice his 
 Majesty's supper. But, no ; that will not do ; 
 I should thereby not satisfy my revenge : I 
 must feel his blood, and have sensation of its 
 warmth !" 
 
 " He has never injured me," said the Earl 
 mournfully. 
 
 ** I do not expect," cried Graeme impatient- 
 ly, " that you with your own hands will use 
 the knife ; I would but have you privy to the 
 design, that I may know what shall betide 
 me if we succeed." 
 
 The Earl wildly clasped his hands, and 
 with a sad and piercing voice, exclaimed— 
 
 " Oh, 1 am as one that swims in a river, 
 and feels the force of some great cataract 
 drawing him down ! Louder and louder rises 
 the roaring of the fall." 
 
 Graeme laughed. 
 
 But the good angel of the Earl was then 
 
T 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 189 
 
 contending with the fiend, and the ambitious, 
 miserable, poor, infirm, grey-haired old man 
 rushed in horror from the room. 
 
190 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 CHAP. XVII. 
 
 Glenfruin having in the meantime exhaust- 
 ed all his blandishments, in the hope of induc- 
 ing the herald to forego the execution of his 
 warrant, had at last recourse to expostulation, 
 and began to doubt if it was possible that he 
 could be summoned before the King and coun- 
 cil to answer any accusation. To this, how- 
 ever, Keith replied by reading the summons, 
 wherein it was rehearsed that his Majesty 
 " Greeting," and so forth, required and com- 
 manded him to appear. 
 
 " Sowlls and podies !" cried the chieftain, 
 " and is't not a shame and a fye, tat te King, 
 a pig man, will pe greeting like te smal shild ? 
 —Oomph.'' 
 
 All, however, was of no avail ; Keith still 
 insisted that he must come with him, and be- 
 
 you 
 and 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 191 
 
 came so peremptory, that the ire of Glenfruin 
 began to kindle. 
 
 *« Aye ! aye r said he, " and you will pe 
 going away — and you will pe taking Glen« 
 fruin pe te horn, like te pull or te ram. Aye ! 
 
 put Glenfruin he'll no pe going at al curse 
 
 tak me if he'll— Oomph.'' 
 
 " I see," replied the herald, << that you do 
 not understand the importance of my office, 
 and in consideration of your ignorance of the 
 laws " 
 
 " Laas !" interrupted Glenfruin, " what pe 
 laas ? Tere be no laas in te Hielands, put te 
 free will and te judiiication ; and te free will, 
 you see, he'll no pe for Glenfruin to go— 
 and te judification — Oomph ! May pe ye'll 
 no pe liking te judification at al.— Oomph — 
 Oomph." 
 
 Keith felt somewhat uneasy at the contu- 
 macious spirit which Glenfruin was again be- 
 ginning to manifest, and glancing anxiously 
 around, saving his own three attendants and 
 
192 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 father Donich, he beheld only hempen-haired 
 vassals and shaggy sorners, that questioned 
 no hest of their chieftain, mustering from 
 without, and standing, row behind /ow, to 
 the utmost obscurity of the hall, their fierce 
 eyes glaring like red and ominous stars 
 through the gloom of the night. Still, not 
 altogether daunted, he said — 
 
 " You will but make your condition worse 
 by thus resisting the King's authority. If 
 you do not submit yourself quietly, I will re- 
 tire, and a sufficient force will soon compel 
 your obedience." 
 
 " SowUs and podies ! and will tat be te re- 
 wart for al te total loss o' te Macdonald's re- 
 pellion ? — Oomph ; and for catching te panisht 
 man ?— Oomph. And for mi Laidie Tooches ? 
 —Oomph." 
 
 " Ah !" said the herald, induced by many 
 visible reasons rather to persuade than to 
 command, " it is to be regretted that you 
 ever troubled yourself with her Grace." 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 193 
 
 
 " -ier Craze !" cried Glenfruin, *« her 
 Craze !— it's al a false and a lie, tat she pe here 
 in a constipation." 
 
 " I doubt not, Glenfruin," replied Keith, 
 " that you will be able to prove it so to the 
 satisfaction of the King; I, however, have 
 no power to determine any thing in the mat- 
 ter, but only to carry you with me." 
 
 " And is't a to-be-surely, King's herald, 
 tat ye'll no have an eye and a veesion .? 
 Nigel, I say, Nigel, pe pringing te Laidie 
 Tooches, and lead her wi' a congee to te 
 castle-hill, for te demonstrations o libertee— 
 Oomph." 
 
 " I entreat you, Glenfruin, for your own 
 <ake," exclaimed Keith, *' not to make me 
 and those with me witnesses to the contumely 
 with which you treat that most noble and un- 
 fortunate Lady. In one word, you are my 
 prisoner, and you must go with me." 
 
 " Sowlls and podies ! and will ye be calling 
 me preesoner in te sheiling o' Glenfruin? 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
194 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 Laads, tcre will pe a judification— yell pe 
 
 catch al le four." 
 
 In an instant the three attendants and the 
 terrified herald were seized, and lifted upon 
 the shoulders of the clansmen. But Father 
 Donicii, who had hitherto remained a silent 
 spectator, ran to the ciiieftain, who was 
 grumbling Uke an earthquake, his gathering 
 wralli being no longer repressive— and lay- 
 ing his hand on his shoulder, said— 
 
 ^'^ For goodness and mercy, Glenfruin, be 
 
 not so rash ! surely you will not hang them r 
 
 *' Och put she will, every moter's son o^ 
 
 tern, — oomph" 
 
 *^ Consider the sin of such a crime ;— though 
 you should escape the vengeance of an earthly 
 king, think of the dreadful condemnation 
 that' the shedding of innocent blood will 
 l,rir.g on you hereafter ! O think of the wo- 
 ful purgatory cf f^re !" 
 
 " Contemnation, Faider Donich !— tere will 
 be two words about te contemnaUon o' Glen- 
 
 1 
 
 s 
 c 
 n 
 a 
 ti 
 tl 
 
fru 
 
 m— te 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 195 
 
 phe,eFa.derDo„ieh.Laads, takeout,! 
 
 Lat;:;''^^'^^"'^^"'^'''--^--^. 
 
 At Gle„fr„i„'s gate hung a crooked and 
 
 onorousp,ece of iron, .,,0.,, .hen none „f 
 the warders chanced to be at hnr,^ ■ ■ 
 Hp.i,:„ J " ue at tiand, visitors 
 
 de^nng admutance struck against the wall 
 
 and .ade it thereb, send forth a loud and 
 
 ong-reverberating sound. At this crisis, all 
 
 he clansmen and sorners being i„ the hall 
 
 e -„d of the iron was heard, and with 
 
 «ueh a peal as announced no ordinary vi^i ' 
 tor. • 
 
 Glenfruin looked as if i„ doubt wiiether it 
 
 -as theiron he had heard; Father Donich 
 
 s. K.d aghast, terrified b, his blasphemy; the 
 cWmen, who had lifted the herald and h 
 
 -« on their shoulders, and were .ovi g 
 
 -y, halted, and looked back for instruc 
 
 —nd for the space of about a «i;:: 
 "'ore was a pause and .iJence in the hall. 
 
196 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 The iron was again sounded more loudly 
 than before. *' Laads/' said Glenfruin, " yell 
 lay te King's herald and his men on tere foots, 
 and see wha will pe coming wi' a bang and a 
 boong like tat — oomph." 
 
 " It was Celestine Campbell with his train, 
 led thither by Anniple ; and, as at that time 
 Loch Aw's clan and Glenfruin's were at peace 
 with one another, he was readily admitt^. 
 But no sooner was he come into the hall than 
 the herald demanded his aid and protection, 
 in the King's name,— which, after a brief ex- 
 planation of what had passed, the young 
 chieftain, to the great amaze and consterna- 
 tion of Glenfruin, at once promised. 
 
 " Sowlls and podies !" said he, " and if His 
 be te laas and te justice, a chief's put a fe- 
 
 lonee." 
 
 Celestine, however, having assured him that 
 the King always dealt clemently with those 
 who willingly obeyed his authority, persuaded 
 liim to submit peaceably to the herald ; and 
 
THE SPxVEWIFE. 
 
 197 
 
 Keith havi 
 
 : promised to make no com. 
 plaint of his discourteous treatment, he, in 
 the end, not only consented to desist from all 
 farther opposition, but promised that he would 
 next morning freely go to Perth, where the 
 summons required him to appear. 
 
 Meanwhile Celestine, observing Father Do- 
 nich in the hall, was much afflicted in mind, 
 thinking the Lord James was also in the cas- 
 tle, and that he might be discovered by the 
 herald. At the same time, knowing that 
 Glenfruin had not engaged in the Lennox- 
 shire rebellion, and was considered adverse to 
 the Albanies, he thought, to a surety, if he was 
 there, he must have come under his assumed 
 name. Accordingly, after some light and pre- 
 liminary overtures, which served to instruct 
 Father Donich of what he meant without be- 
 ing understood by those around, he inquired 
 if he had seen any thing of Sir Aulay Mac- 
 aulay in the course of the journey. 
 
 Glenfruin raised his ear, and looking a- 
 
^98 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 skance witli liis eye, eagerly watched the an- 
 swer. 
 
 '' I parted from him," replied Father Do- 
 nich, " at the foot of the hill. He spoke of 
 crossing the moors to his own castle at Arden- 
 kaple." 
 
 " Sowllsandpodies !" exclaimed Glenfruin, 
 " and is't a to-be-surely, that Sir Aulay Mac- 
 aulay would pe a tod-lowrie among te lambs 
 o' Glenfruin. — Laads, laads ! Nigel, Nigel ! 
 get your swords and your bows, al, every mo- 
 ther's son of you." 
 
 In a few minutes all the clansmen, with 
 Nigel at their head, were ready. 
 
 " What do you mean .?" exclaimed the 
 young chieftain of Loch Aw, alarmed at their 
 alacrity ; '• what is that you would do ? are 
 you not friends with the Macaulays ? Surely 
 you will not molest a defenceless hunter ?" 
 
 " Al in goot time, Celestine Campbell, my 
 very goot young friend, and we will pe tell- 
 ing you al. Do you know. King's herald, tat te 
 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 199 
 
 Macau y— ah he's te false and te traitor too 
 —oomph ! was na he wi' te Lord Hameis and 
 tat Peeshop o' Pelzeebub, te Peeshop o' Lis- 
 more, ijAven tey prunt te town o' Dumbarton 
 —And te Macfarlane— Got tarn te Macfar- 
 lane— he lifted al te catties from te lands o' 
 Lennox, and teGlenfruinswere na left tehalph 
 of a two score— oomph ! and would na it be 
 a pail and a ransom for Glenfruin to te King's 
 Majestic ? Got pless te King's Majestic— to 
 catch te Macaulay — oomph !" 
 
 Celestine was still more distressed and per- 
 plexed by this information, so portentous to 
 the safety of his ill-fated cousin ; but Father 
 Donich perceiving his inward grief, said— 
 
 " Then, Glenfruin, you know Sir Aulay 
 Macaulay ?" 
 
 " Will we no have a head in our eye to 
 know te Macaulay ? Laads ! Nigel, you snail 
 in te shell, will ye no pe catching te traitor 
 man ?" 
 
 " Stop, I beseech you,^^ -ried Celestine, 
 
200 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 II ! 
 
 " let us consider what may be the consequence. 
 If Sir Aulay has made his peace with the 
 King, it will only aggravate the offence where- 
 with you are accused, if you attempt to mo- 
 lest him." 
 
 " Sow.Is and podies ! is na he a pird on 
 te hills, a cock o' te wood, tat has na a nest 
 for his foot ? Te toad's on te hearth in his hal." 
 
 Here the herald interposed, and said, that 
 certainly Sir Aulay Macaulay had not made 
 his submission, and that Glenfruin, perhaps, 
 could do nothing more acceptable than to 
 bring him in. 
 
 *« Perhaps,'' said Father Donich, " I may 
 have been in error ; and on second thoughts, 
 it is not likely that he would have ventured so 
 near the castle of such a loyal chieftain as 
 Glenfruin.*" 
 
 " Tafs a speech like a wisdom, Faider 
 Donich ; Glenfruin's te loyal man, and te 
 lionest man too. Put, laads, see wha will pe 
 in te woods." 
 
THE SPA^WIFE. 
 
 201 
 
 " Not yet, not yet/' cried Celestine ; " in 
 your situation, it will be better that my men 
 should ffo." 
 
 " Did Glenfruin," said Father Donich, 
 " see the Lord James when he was in Len- 
 nox ?" 
 
 " Te Lord Hamies, Faider Donich ! would 
 a loyaltee pe seeing a repel ?— oomph !" 
 
 " O ! he does not mean to say that you had 
 any correspondence with him,'' cried Celes- 
 tine briskly, perceiving the drift of the chief- 
 tain's question, " but only asks if you know 
 him by sight." 
 
 " He will have a horn, and a tail, and 
 a hoof, for Glenfruin." 
 
 Celestine divined from this answer, that 
 Glenfruin had never seien the person of the 
 Lord James, and perceived that the only risk 
 he ran of discovery in being brought into the 
 castle was from the herald ; he therefore re- 
 solved to prevent him from coming in, by 
 going in search of him. Accordingly, leav. 
 
 i2 
 
202 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 ing Father Donich with Keith and Glen- 
 fruin, and taking out Nigel, whose simple air 
 and prepossessing physiognomy had drawn 
 his attention, he left the hall attended by 
 only his own clansmen. 
 
 Meanwhile the Duchess, from the moment 
 she had discovered her son from the battle- 
 ment, was overwhelmed with fears and feehngs 
 to which she could give no utterance, nor with 
 all her fortitude conceal. Fain would she have 
 rushed to him ; but the dread of endangering 
 his safety repressed her maternal love. Eager 
 she was to let him know of her beinsr there, 
 that they might exchange, though afar off, 
 some little signal of sympathy. But the ar- 
 rival of Celestine Campbell sharpened her 
 anxieties ; for, though she recognised in him 
 a kinsman by his garb, his appearance so im- 
 mediately after the herald seemed to augur 
 no consolation to her, his father being, as she 
 well knew, one of the firmest adversaries of 
 the Albanies. During the long controversy in 
 
THE SPAE\VIF£. 
 
 203 
 
 the hall, her wishes and afFections, however, 
 so far overcame her fears, that she resolved to 
 send her gentlewoman to request him to come 
 to her, that she might learn what his visit 
 portended; and it happened, that as he 
 quitted the hall the aged lady came down 
 stairs, and passed towards the door after 
 him. Glenfruin seeing her, said something 
 that he intended to be jocose and gallant ; bm 
 she tartly glanced at him over her shoulder, 
 and walked loftily away. 
 
204 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 CHAP. XVIII. 
 
 As soon as Celestine Campbell had passed 
 beyond the threshold of the hall, seeing his 
 own clansmen around, and none of the Glen- 
 fruins nigh, he addressed himself to Nigel, 
 saying— 
 
 " In these times one knows not well what 
 course to take. Your father has ever been 
 reputed a leal and true subject ; mine as 
 such no one can doubt; and yet, to deal 
 frankly with you, being half an Albany by 
 my mother, my heart does not altogether 
 lie to my father's policy, if that can be called 
 craft, which in him I doubt not is the fruit 
 of honesty." 
 
 " I did think," said Nigel, won by the 
 openness of his companion, " that there 
 could be no higher duty than that of obe- 
 dience to the King; not for the advantage 
 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 205 
 
 
 that might thence arise, though my father 
 considered the King^s cause ever the most 
 advantageous service, but,"— and he hesitated, 
 fearing he might have said too much ; for he 
 was an artless youth, and his affections easiJy 
 governed by the admiration of his eye, or the 
 flattery of his ear; albeit he lacked not a just 
 discernment of what was true and kind. 
 
 " But what," replied Celestine, " what 
 would you have said ? I trust you may speak 
 freely to me. I have told you how much I 
 am myself an Albany, and I will say more 
 to you, for I do esteem you by your face as 
 a friend. Though I would pause to consider 
 whether I should, in any way or form, assist 
 the cause of my cousin, the Lord James ; 
 yet I would not, for all the forfeitures that 
 the crown has gained by the fate of my kins- 
 men, betray or injure the basest or the most 
 lukewarm of his followers." 
 
 " I meant but to have observed,'' said 
 Nigel, « that, after seeing the sad plight into 
 
■J 
 
 206 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 'Hi' 
 
 fin I 
 
 Hfii 
 
 which so sweet and so fair a maiden as the 
 Lady Sibilla Macdonald was cast on the 
 night of the burning of Dumbarton, and the 
 majestical sorrow of the Duchess of Albany 
 since, that I can think no more of the King's 
 authority, but only of the anguish of spirit 
 and the broken hearts which his terrible jus- 
 tice has made. Yet will I at no man's solicita- 
 tion go against his Majesty ; for those suf- 
 ferings and griefs come more of the misrule 
 of times past, than from any cruelty in that 
 which he so strives to establish and fortify as 
 law." 
 
 " Then you would not," said Celestine, 
 " surrender even the Lord James himself, 
 were he, by any accident, thrown into your 
 power .?" 
 
 ** I could hold my hand in the fire till it is 
 burnt to the stump," replied the courageous 
 youth proudly ; " and it is not much to say, 
 I may withstand any temptation that would 
 make me despise myself." 
 
 .'C' 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 207 
 
 .»^ 
 
 '' If this stranger then," said Celestine, 
 " should prove to be indeed Sir Aulay Mac 
 aulay, will you not take him on your father's 
 account, seeing, as the herald says, it would 
 wrighmuch in his favour with the King?" 
 
 " If we take him in the pursuit I will 
 hold him as a fair prisoner. He has not 
 trusted me; he has no claim on my pro- 
 mise ; and I shall not therefore do any wrong, 
 treat him as I may, if not discourteously,' 
 should he ever come into my hands." 
 
 " Let us be friends," said Celestine. " In 
 whatsoever you trust me with I shall be 
 faithful— be you so with me. I have some 
 cause to believe that this stranger is no other 
 than my distressed cousin. He is now in 
 your power. You have but to return to the 
 hall, and to repeat what I have said, and in 
 a few minutes your clansmen will make him 
 yours. Your father will then be able to 
 carry with him one worth twenty Sir Aulay 
 Macaulays,— a ransom indeed that will re- 
 
SOS 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 '!ii 
 
 deem him from the displeasure of the King, 
 were it ten times greater than it is." 
 
 The young chieftain looked douhtingly 
 at Celestine. " Surely," said he, " I am 
 not so soon called to such honour, as to be 
 trusted with the life and fortunes of that 
 noble Prince, who may one day be my 
 King!" 
 
 " You have it in your power," replied 
 Celestine, " to insure your father's pardon." 
 
 " If the King be that just man, which he 
 is said to Iw," replied Nigel, " he will not be 
 bribotl to pardon my father should he be 
 found to have offended." 
 
 " But at least you may increase your 
 lands." 
 
 " When you offered to me your friend- 
 ship, Celestine Campbell," said the simple 
 and enthusiastic youth, " I was afraid that 
 I was not worthy of so great an honour ; 
 but you make me almost doubt if you be 
 worthy of mine." 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 209 
 
 Celestine smiled for a moment at his ro- 
 mantic ardour ; but the simple air and moun- 
 tain garb of Nigel, the calm and mild enthu- 
 siasm of his countenance, beaming like radi- 
 ance from within, changed his feelings to a 
 higher mood, and the tear of admiration 
 shot into his eye. But the young chieftain 
 wanted words to express what lie felt in re- 
 turn for the feelings that he had awakened 
 111 Celestine, and he turned away to hide the 
 contrition which he suffered for having spoken 
 so proudly to so generous a friend. 
 
 At that moment Leddy Glenjuckie, who 
 had tottered after them as fast as her sciatica 
 would permit, called to Celestine; and, on 
 his going towards her, she told him the mes- 
 sage from the Duchess. He had not before 
 heard that her Grace was in the castle, and 
 he stood amazed. Nigel, while they were 
 speaking, joined them ; and seeing his won- 
 derment, rehearsed in what manner his father 
 had seized the Duchess. 
 
 ■.!".*;i 
 
210 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 " I will leave you," said Celestine, " to dis- 
 cover the stranger, and will instantly attend 
 her Grace." But the old lady uttered a pierc- 
 ing shriek at the idea of the Lord James 
 falling into the hands of the Glenfruins. Con- 
 troUing however her terror in a moment, 
 she pretended that it was the anguish of her 
 sciatica only which caused her to cry, and 
 Celestine left her and went back to the castle. 
 As soon as he was gone she began to speak 
 loudly and shrill, in the hope, that if the 
 Lord James heard her, as she was then near 
 the underwood into which he had dived on 
 being left by Father Donich, it would put 
 him on his guard ; complaining, at the same 
 time, bitterly to Nigel of the insults which 
 she had endured from his father. 
 
 Her stratagem so far succeeded, that the 
 outlaw, who had overheard, in his conceal- 
 ment, part of what passed between Celestine 
 and Nigel, recognising her voice, suddenly 
 appeared before them. 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 211 
 
 Danger and adversity are quick teachers of 
 expedients. The outlaw knew he was in the 
 utmost peril of discovery; and before the 
 Leddy Glenjuckie had time to fetch her 
 breath from the astonishment into which he 
 had thrown her, he told her that they must 
 excliange clothes. To this proposition, so 
 unseemly to her courtly manners, she could 
 only lift her hands and look her horror. 
 Nigel said but two words to Celestine's clans^ 
 men, and on the instant one of them, with all 
 that romantic delicacy towards the gentle sex, 
 for which the Celts in those days were re- '^ 
 nowned, stuffed a plaid into her mouth, and 
 held her fast, while his companions stripped 
 her almost to the skin. The Loid James 
 in the meantime doffed his upper habiliments, 
 and putting on her feminine and fantastical 
 gear, the Highlanders dressed her in his 
 clothes. 
 
 Nothing from the time of her misfortune 
 had equalled this; but the Lord James, to 
 
212 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 Iir 
 
 lis 
 
 whom she bore the affection of a nurse, hav- 
 ing often fondled him when a baby in her 
 arms, and Nigel, who had ingratiated him- 
 self into her favour by the respectful modesty 
 of his demeanour, soon succeeded in calming 
 her perturbation, and in reconciling her to 
 the metamorphosis. Nor was it long till 
 they had occasion to applaud the celerity of 
 the change; for, even while they were soothing 
 her with their best persuasion, Glenfruin 
 himself, accompanied by the herald and Fa- 
 ther Donich, came forth from the castle-gate 
 to taste the freshness of the evening air before 
 supper, and to see what success had attended 
 the search for the stranger. 
 
 As soon as Nigel saw his father, he went 
 towards him to prevent him from coming so 
 near as to discover what had taken placv, 
 and told him, pointing to the Leddy in the 
 garb of the Lord James, that he would see it 
 was not the Macaulay. 
 
 Glenfruin required no instructor as to that ; 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 213 
 
 but observing the Lord James moving rapid- 
 ly, in the dress of the lady, down the hill, 
 he exclaimed— 
 
 *' Sowlls and podies ! is't a ghost or 
 weezzard ? Will te oold cat pe coing to die ? 
 and will yon pe her wraith ? Te spirits no 
 hae te pains in te pack — oomph ! Nigel, 
 I say, Nigel, will ye no pe seeing yon troll 
 ostentation. Sowlls and podies ! we're al a 
 fear and a quake."" 
 
 Father Donich had also noticed the phe- 
 nomenon, and, while Glenfruin was speaking, 
 lie went so near to the lady as to discover the 
 transformation; but, being no less anxious 
 than Nigel to conceal what had happened, 
 he hastily returned, just as the fugitive dis- 
 appeared among the underwood, and said, 
 with great solemnity — 
 
 *' It is a very awful apj)arition ! I doubt 
 not we shall hear news of this hereafter. It 
 betokens no good to the one wlio saw it first. 
 I hope, Glenfruin, it was not you ?'" 
 
214 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 a 
 
 I hope it was yoursels, Faider Donich," 
 replied the chieftain, turning sharply away 
 from him, malcontent that such an ominous 
 question should have been put to him in his 
 circumstances. 
 
 " What think you it was ?'' said the Fa- 
 ther Donich in a superstitious manner to the 
 herald. 
 
 " What it is," replied Keith'drily ; « some 
 varlet in the old lady's apparel ; but it docs 
 not concern me/" 
 
 Glenfruin hearing this, halted, and looked 
 back. 
 
 " A farlet, oomph !— and will te oold laidie 
 pe tead in t purn .?— Kilt and plundert and 
 al .'—King's herald, you see tat Glenfruin's 
 te lamb and te dove— oomph. Put, Nigel, 
 you saint on a tomb, will ye no pe taking 
 te laads, and seek for te bodie ? Oh ! King's 
 herald, tis pe an och-hone, and she had te 
 praw ear-rings. Tey were te robberee." 
 
 But, before any answer could be given, the 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 HIS 
 
 leddy, not accustomed to walk in trews, in en- 
 deavouring to turn round, happened to stum- 
 ble, by which she gave her sciatica such a 
 wrench, that she screamed with pain, and 
 almost fell to the ground." 
 
 " Sowlls and podies !" exclaimed Glen- 
 fruin, " we're al in a tream and a veesion ; 
 is it te laidie matam hersels ?'' and, advanc- 
 ing towards her, he took her by the arm 
 and turned her round, saying, " and she pe 
 no have a petticoat at al— oomph. Tis is a 
 mysterec — oomph !'' And, without uttering 
 ano^^her word, he walked with wide and stern 
 str'i js towards the castle-gate, followed by all 
 those who were then on the castle-hill. 
 
216 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 CHAP. XIX. 
 
 In returning to the gate, Keith tlie herald 
 lingered behind with Leddy Glenjuckie, and 
 from time to time narrowly examined lier 
 garb. He, however, made no remark ; but 
 when they reached the castle, he followed 
 Glenfruin into the hall, and sat down at the 
 table at the upper end, seemingly thoughtful 
 and much troubled. 
 
 " King's herald," said Glenfruin, taking 
 his own seat, " we'll pe making a terroriga- 
 tion when te oold laidie matam will pe com- 
 
 ing m. 
 
 ti 
 
 " I think," replied Keith, " it is quite un- 
 necessary to affect any concealment. The 
 best thing you can now do, for your own 
 ?«ake, is at once to come with me to Dumbar- 
 ton, and leave Celestine Campbell to conduct 
 
THE SPAEWiFE. 217 
 
 the Duchess to Inchmurrin in the morning. 
 What I may suspect I am not bound to re- 
 port, and I shall be glad how soon you ena- 
 ble me to leave this wild country, that I may 
 not become a witness to things I fain would 
 not discover." 
 
 " Sowlls and podies ! King's herald, and 
 what will ye pe speeching ? Te wild country 
 -oomph I And whar pe te tanie-^mph ! 
 And te concealment— and te Campbells get 
 te sheilling o' Glenfruin? Aye! tis pe te 
 wage o' te goot subject— Oomph !" 
 
 " I am grieved, Glenfruin, to be obliged to 
 remind you, that I have no power nor autho- 
 rity to determine any thing concerning you ; 
 but if the unfortunate Lord James of Albany 
 be in this neighbourhood, I am most anxious 
 to avoid him. My duty has already called 
 me too often to perform a painful part to- 
 wards his house." 
 
 " Te Lord Hamies in tis neighbourhood !" 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 K 
 
218 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 exclaimed Glenfruin, looking anxiously at 
 Keith ; " and will te wee green fairies pe 
 making a phantasee? Put, King's herald, 
 will we no cal doun Celestine Campbell, and 
 pring te oold laidie matam to her testificai- 
 tions ? Nigel ! whar's Nigel, and Faider Do- 
 nich, too ? — Oomph !"" 
 
 " I doubt not, Glenfruin, to be plain with 
 you, that you very well know why they have 
 not followed us into the hall. I am amazed 
 that you will not see how willing I am to shut 
 my eyes, but will force me to say what may 
 endanger myself/' 
 
 " And is't a to-be-surely, King's herald, 
 tat ye will pe a spial o' te Lord Hamies in te 
 wraith o' te oold laidie matam ? — Oomph ! 
 SowUs and podies ! tat would pe a crown and 
 a jewel for Glenfruin. — Nigel, Nigel ! al ye 
 Glenfruins, every mother's son of you !" ex- 
 claimed the old chieftain, starting from his 
 seat, and calling out with the utmost vehe- 
 
 M I 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 219 
 
 mence of his voice,-" Te pow and te sword 
 te sword and te pow. Nigel, Nigel ! whar 
 are ye, Nigel ?" 
 
 The din and dissonance of his cries, and 
 the rattling of the weapons wherewith the 
 clansmen and sorners began to arm them- 
 selves, alarmed the whole castle, and brought 
 down Celestine Campbell from the Duchess- 
 whde Father Donich, assisting in the meto-' 
 morphosed Leddy Glenjuckie, at the same 
 t.me entered the hall from without. 
 
 Celestine suspected the extent of the disco- 
 very that had been made, and divined the ob- 
 ject of the uproar and the arming. He perceiv- 
 ed that his unfortunate kinsman would not fail 
 to be presently taken, and that nothing but 
 a bold stratagem could avert the fate which 
 would mevitably await him. 
 
 "Glenfruin!" he exclaimed aloud, and 
 with a voice so tuned to authority, that it 
 mstantly silenced the noise; « Glenfruin I 
 am grieved to say, that the fealty I owe to the 
 
■IM 
 
 a 
 
 H 
 
 iIlM 
 
 I 
 
 il^l 
 
 «20 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 King compels me to deal with seeming harsh- 
 ness towards you. The herald has failed in 
 his duty by consenting to remain even for an 
 hour here. The manner in which you have 
 seized the Duchess of Albany, and continue 
 to hold her as your prisoner, though with a 
 ahow of liberty, is an offence that can admit 
 of no extenuation. Keith, unless he consent 
 to go with you at once, you must be responsi- 
 ble for the consequences. I have pledged 
 myself to support your authority. I now 
 tell you, that as a prisoner it is not safe to let 
 him remain here ; and I know not how I may 
 excuse to my father the jeopardy into which I 
 have led so many of his bravest men." 
 
 Glenfruin looked for some time as if he 
 felt the world tumbling into pieces around 
 him, and then he turned to Keith and said— 
 
 " King's herald, and what will Glenfruin 
 pe doing ?''"' 
 
 « I have indeed done wrong," replied 
 Keith, glad of any pretext to get away from 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 221 
 
 the castle, and to carry his prisoner with 
 him, " and I now call upon Celestine Camp- 
 bell to conduct us in safety to Dumbarton." 
 
 " Sowlls and podies ! and will ye pe leaving 
 te Lord Hamies, tat is te traitor man, al in 
 his potencee ?" 
 
 " The Lord James ! what of him ?" cried 
 Celetsine, almost afraid to hear the answer. 
 
 " There is some cause," replied Keith, " to 
 suspect that he is lurking in this neighbour- 
 hood ; and it is plain," he added, aside, " not- 
 withstanding all Glenfruin's artifice, that he 
 is in the secret. That old lady is in a dress, 
 which, from the ornaments, I know to be the 
 outlaw's: I doubt not that the f change was 
 made to enable him to escape, for she is one 
 of his mother's attendants." 
 - " If that be the case," said Celestine, 
 " the story of her Grace's detention has been 
 concerted between her and Glenfruin, to con- 
 ceal their secret treasons. Nothing is more 
 likely than that my guilty cousin should 
 
Hill 
 
 Hi 
 
 il22 
 
 TUE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 he near Iiis mother, whose influence in this 
 country has, probahly, been rathe^ increased 
 tlian lessened by the misfortunes of her fa- 
 mily." 
 
 " Sowlls and podies ! will lis pe Glenfruin's 
 hall? will you pe te Hving mans? is tat a 
 hand of my own ? Nigel ! vvhar pe Nigel ?" 
 
 ** I have met with nothing like this," said 
 the herald to Celestine ; " but I was warned 
 of his depth and cunning." 
 
 " O !" replied Celestine aloud, " it is all 
 quite evident ; Nigel his son is gone to warn 
 the outlaw of this discovery." 
 
 Glenfruin sat down in his scat, and began 
 to touch the table and to pinch his flesh, and 
 to half unsheath his dirk, as if to ascertain 
 the reality of the scene and of his own identity. 
 
 " Do you go with me ?" said the herald to 
 him after a short pause. 
 
 " And will ye pe Pelzeepub teevil, and tia 
 your delusions and purgatoree ? — Oomph !" 
 
 " I doubt," said Celestine sorrowfully. 
 
 
 
v.^ 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE, 
 
 22ii 
 
 " that appearances ore too strong against yon, 
 my old friund. Unhappy chat I am, to Ik» 
 brought so accidentally into such a situation a« 
 this. Spare me, I entreat you, from the hard 
 necessity of making a prisoner of my own 
 kinsman. But if the Lord James be seized, 
 he must be taken with you." 
 
 *« Glenfruin," said the herald to Celestine, 
 " affects to be ignorant of the Lord James be- 
 ing in this neighbourhood. I hope he speaks 
 truly— but if he is here, and here taken, it 
 will go hard with Glenfruin, for how will he 
 be able to explain so strange a thing ? Here 
 IS the Duchess, in circumstances so singular, 
 that it was thought by all who heard cf her 
 situation, that she was held by constraint. 
 But there is now reason to believe that her 
 outlawed son is also here, and that on seeing 
 a force appear to aid the King's authority, he 
 changed his dress with one of her ladies, the 
 better to facilitate his escape. In that junc- 
 ture, the son and heir of Glenfruin is seen 
 
 .If I 
 
 ■ii 
 
1 
 
 ; i 
 
 i 1 
 ii 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 ! 
 1 
 
 1 i 
 
 ''• i 
 
 ,i\ ' 
 
 i!i 
 
 ilh 
 
 224. 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 speaking with the fugitive, and suffers him to 
 depart." 
 
 Celestine Campbell looked at the amazed 
 and confounded chieftain, and mournfully 
 »h(K)k his head. 
 
 " Sowlls and podies !" exclaimed Glenfru- 
 
 in, with the sad accent of helplessness, " and 
 
 will tis j)e what you cal laa ? But, laads !" 
 
 he continued, rising and moving towards the 
 
 d(X)r, " Glenfruin will pe te honest man, 
 
 curse tak me put he will, and we'll no have a 
 
 Campbell, nor te smal toe of a Campbell, to 
 
 mak him a custodee. But we'll pe going our 
 
 own selph, and for a congee to te King's 
 
 herald, come twenty pretty mans, te flower 
 
 ()' you al, for tis night we will pe a free will 
 
 in Dumbarton. When will King's herald, 
 
 pe ready to go ? O ! is't an och-hon, and a 
 
 shame, and a fye too — Oomph." 
 
 Glenfruin was cons('it)UR of his own inno- 
 cence with respect to tlie Lord James, nor 
 was he at all sensible that he had connnitted 
 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 225 
 
 iM 
 
 . 
 
 any great wrong towards the Duchess of Al- 
 bany, whom he had hitherto considered as 
 under the cloud of the King's displeasure. 
 With regard to Sir Robert Graeme, he still 
 thought, notwithstanding the Earl of AthoPs 
 coldness, that he liad done some notable ser- 
 vice ; and he considered, that both for his ab- 
 stinence in the Lennoxshire rebellion, and the 
 alacrity with which he had obeyed the pro- 
 clamation to march against Macdonald, he 
 stood in no peril of much suffering. At 
 the same time he felt himself so environed 
 with such an array of questionable circum- 
 stances, that he wot not well what to do; 
 and therefore it was, that in utter inability to 
 comprehend the situation into which he was 
 thrown by so many casualties, he resolved at 
 once to go with the herald. Accordingly, 
 after again expressing his wonder, with some 
 degree of sharpness, at the absence of his son, 
 who had in all this time not returned into the 
 
 hall, he said to Celestine Campbell 
 
 k2 
 

 l!ii ! 
 
 Ullll 
 
 ,,.,, 
 
 Ml 
 
 226 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 ** Ye'll tak your men al pefore you, Ccles- 
 tinc Campbell, and ye'll pe going away, caz 
 you see, Celestine Cai]i{)l)ell, you see tat tere 
 will no pe a face on a nose coming into tis hal, 
 till we our own selph pe coming pack wi' a 
 glorification." 
 
 The reasonableness of this request could 
 not well be controverted ; so Celestine, with- 
 out farther parley, went out from the castle 
 followed by his clansmen, and apparently with 
 the design of going to the Colquhoun of Luss 
 for the night, he parted with Glenfruin on 
 the castle-hill ; whence, with the herald, and 
 accompanied by twenty of his own clansmen, 
 the chieftain was conducted to the road leading 
 to Dumbarton. 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 227 
 
 CHAP. XX. 
 
 The Earl of Atliol was in the meantime 
 greatly disturbed in his thoughts, by reason 
 chiefly of the freedom wherewith Sir Robert 
 Graeme, in the intrepidity of his revenge, had 
 proposed to undertake the assassination of the 
 King. He had not, however, virtue to with- 
 stand temptation, nor courage enough, if so 
 good a name may be given to so bad a pur- 
 pose, to embark openly in the avowed trea- 
 son ; neither had he the firmness to lay such 
 an interdict on the resentment by which his 
 nephew was borne away from his fealty, as to 
 prevent him from surrendering himself up to 
 the machinations of the traitor. Still the de- 
 sire not to part with the honour he enjoyed 
 was so lively within his heart, that, the same 
 night, after Graeme had so fearfully inform- 
 

 p^ 
 
 i iijlil 
 
 ! 'i IHi 
 
 .in 
 
 'If! 
 
 228 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 eel him of his regicidal determination, he or- 
 dered him to be sent forth from the castle, 
 and never again to present himself at the 
 
 gates. 
 
 Graeme so little heeded th^ command, 
 which was delivered to him by Stuart, that, 
 before going away, he indited a paper, in 
 which he set forth his determination never to 
 desist from his hostility against the King, 
 till he had vindicated his wrongs and satisfied 
 his revenge. 
 
 " Give it," said he, " to the Earl, and 
 we shall see what the bravery of his loyalty 
 will do after so open a proclamation of trea- 
 
 son. 
 
 1") 
 
 Stuart, however, did not that night deliver 
 the paper, but conducted Gra?me to the gate, 
 where, in the hearing of many of the vassals, 
 be bade him adieu, bitterly grieving that the 
 King should so little esteem such a courageous 
 soldier as to drive him forth into the wild 
 woods, and so despitefuUy repulse the pitying 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 229 
 
 friends that petitioned only for some mitiga- 
 tion in the rigour of his punishment. 
 
 To this condolence the outlaw made no re- 
 ply, but that an avenging hour was coming, 
 when perhaps even the Earl of Athol would 
 repent of having so far lent himself to the 
 cruelty of the King. 
 
 " The Earl," replied Stuart, «* is not so 
 much your enemy as you think. In banish- 
 ing you from his house, I believe he acts 
 from the compulsion of duty, and the dread 
 of danger to himself ; for even he is no longer 
 safe.*" 
 
 " What do you mean ?" said Graeme, " what 
 danger does he dread ? and why is it that you 
 account him no longer safe ?'' 
 
 " He endured," replied Stuart, " yester- 
 day such insult, merely because he presented 
 your humble petition, that the King cannot 
 but know as a man that he must suffer under 
 it, and will tremble lest as a man he should 
 revenge it." 
 
i 
 
 iiiiiii:! 
 
 ill 
 
 liiil 
 i'lliiil 
 
 I 
 
 5230 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 The vassals, hearing them discoursing thus 
 openly of the grievances which their Lord 
 had endured, gathered around, and the taint 
 of sedition soon infected them all. But the 
 overthrow of an anointed King, whose power 
 was beginning to be everywhere obeyed, and 
 the genial shade of whose protecting go- 
 vernment afforded asylum and refuge to all 
 his wronged and long-afflicted subjects, was 
 an enterprise not to be hastily undertaken. 
 In this manner, however, the crafty policy 
 which Graeme had breathed into the spirit of 
 Stuart was made to take effect ; and the vas- 
 sals of the Earl of Athol were corrupted from 
 their loyalty even before he was himself en- 
 tirely subdued. 
 
 In the morning, Stuart went forth from 
 the castle-gate, and at a short distance there- 
 from affected to find, on the grass, the de- 
 fiance which Graeme had penned. He im- 
 mediately returned, and began to .question the 
 warders concerning it ; and he read it aloud 
 
 2 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 231 
 
 to them, deploring the doom that had worked 
 so brave a spirit into such frantic ecstasy. 
 He then carried it to the Earl, and eagerly 
 watched his looks as he read. But though 
 the fated old man grew pale, and his hands 
 trembled, he made no remark. He looked 
 not however at Stuart, but turned away his 
 face, as if he had something to hide from the 
 piercing inquisition of his eyes. 
 
 Three several times did Stuart endeavour 
 to draw him into discourse concerning the 
 paper, but he made him no answer. He 
 held it however still in his hand ; sometimes 
 he looked at it, and at others laid it down on 
 the table, and walked to and fro communing 
 with himself. " 
 
 Stuart waited with silence and patience to 
 see the issue of this secret controversy, and 
 was awed and confounded, when, after a sea- 
 son, the Earl called one of his trustiest officers, 
 and bade him ride forthwith to the King, 
 at Scone, with the rebellious proclamation. 
 
232 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 and to assure his Majesty, that no means 
 should be left untried by him to bring in 
 the traitor. 
 
 Scarcely had this messenger departed on 
 his journey when kindly letters to the Earl 
 came from the King, wherein his Majesty 
 described the great contrition which he suf- 
 fered at having so hastily parted with him ; 
 and praying him, by the name of his kind 
 friend and true uncle, to come back to assist 
 in the solemnity of laying the foundation 
 of the stately abbey which he was minded to 
 build at Perth. He also entreated him to 
 bring Stuart with him, and said many gra- 
 cious things, all meant to appease the sense of 
 the heat wherewith he had expressed himself 
 for so espousing the cause of Sir Robert 
 Graeme. 
 
 When the Earl read these courteous letters 
 to Stuart, that vindictive youth exclaimed — 
 
 " I will never again revisit the court, but 
 to 
 
 vt 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 29S 
 
 The look which the Earl gave him stopped 
 what he would have said; and he retired 
 abashed and overawed, when he beheld the 
 tears shoot into the old man's eye, as he read 
 the letters a second time. 
 
 " It cannot be," said the momentary peni- 
 tent, " that any wrong can come from me 
 to so good and so generous a heart;" and 
 he added emphatically, " I beseech you, my 
 dearest nephew, to hold no correspondence 
 nor communion with Sir Robert Grseme. 
 Let us return to the court, and with such an 
 exhibition as befits our birth and the high 
 ceremony which the King intends to hold; 
 forget the countenance that we have both, 
 unfortunately for ourselves, given in this 
 house to that implacable adversary of all that 
 is good and fair in the princely nature of our 
 royal kinsman." 
 
 Stuart again made another attempt to re- 
 vert to the contumely with which he conceiv- 
 ed the King had treated him, and to pray 
 
234 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 ill 
 
 ilillii 
 
 that his presence might be dispensed with, 
 but the Earl was peremptory. " I am not 
 safe here," said he with a sigh ; « neither of 
 us are safe in this place." 
 
 " By whom are we endangered?" cried 
 Stuai't proudly. 
 
 " By ourselves," replied the old man ; and 
 he turned aside his face, and retired from the 
 room with slow and thoughtful steps. 
 
 Hitherto the indignation with which Stuart 
 had received the King's innocent jocularity, 
 made him see nothing but justice and the vin- 
 dication of wrong in the treasons which he 
 meditated ; but the sad voice, and the mourn- 
 ful look of his uncle, made him stand gazing 
 towards the door by which the Earl had re- 
 tired, and feel a strange and before unfelt sen- 
 timent of sorrow mingled with fear. 
 
 As he was standing thus dejected, the Lady 
 Atliol came into the room, and he was start- 
 led when he beheld her very wo-begone, and 
 seemingly touched with apprehensions of hor- 
 
 I 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 235 
 
 ror and alarm. « Surely,^ said he to himself, 
 " the weak old man cannot have told her of 
 what has passed between him and Graeme/' 
 
 " She however soon relieved his fears, by 
 coming towards him and saying—-" I am 
 glad that Sir Robert Graeme was sent from 
 this house, for every night that he remained 
 here, my sleep was made hideous with the 
 most terrible fancies. I have had no whole- 
 some rest, but only strange snatches of slum- 
 ber, that have been more full of disease than 
 the entire lack of sleep. This very morning 
 I have been afflicted with such a sight, that 
 I can hardly yet persuade myself it was 
 not some actual deed which I beheld, and 
 not the fantastical imagery cf a distempered 
 dream." 
 
 " What was it that you saw ?'' said Stuart, 
 participating in the horror with which she 
 was aftected. 
 
 " Oh, do not inquire ! It was of such things 
 as I may not without great sin venture to re- 
 
S36 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 :!;! 
 
 M 
 
 !l|it.'! 
 
 Hi' 
 
 late. There was blood, and ashes, and a 
 kingly crown, and bleaching bones, and the 
 birds of the air !" 
 
 The Earl returned at that moment ; and 
 that she might not be questioned by him con- 
 cerning the mysterious cause of her grief, she 
 stooped behind, to clear as it were some en- 
 tanglement of her robe, and then quitted the 
 room, to conceal that she was in tears. 
 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 237 
 
 CHAP. XXI. 
 
 When Nigel Glenfruin saw that his fa- 
 ther was aware of the sex of the Lord 
 James, in the disguise of the Leddy Glen- 
 juckie**s garments, he feared that an imme- 
 diate search would be ordered; and, alarm- 
 ed for the issue, instead of returning to 
 the hall, where his absence was so soon re- 
 marked by the herald, he followed the track 
 which the fugitive had taken, in order to ap- 
 prise him of his danger, and to aid his escape. 
 But it was some time before he came up with 
 him ; indeed, not until the Lord James had 
 reached the skirts of the wood along the mar- 
 gent of the lake, and was standing there dis- 
 consolate and breathless, not knowing what 
 course to choose. 
 The jeopardy into which that ill-fated prince 
 
Ill 
 Ijlji 
 
 wm 
 
 ^^S THE SPA E WIFE. 
 
 had fallen was too imminent to admit of much 
 time for parley, and Nigel was hot a youth 
 given to unnecessary talk. Having briefly 
 
 proffered his services, he added 
 
 " There is a boat hard by, come with me 
 to the place, get on board, and make what 
 speed you can to the other side of the lake, or 
 to some one of the islands, where, in the morn- 
 ing, you will kindle a fire to let us know 
 where you are, and Celestine Campbell or my- 
 self will find means to come to your assist- 
 ance." 
 
 " Celestine Campbell !'' exclaimed the Lord 
 James, and was proceeding to inveigh against 
 his treachery, when Nigel assured him that 
 he had no truer friend, and that he believed 
 Celestine had come to Glenfruin only in quest 
 of him, and to do him service, shortly re- 
 hearsing what had passed between them on 
 the castle-hill. 
 
 While they were thus speaking, as they 
 walked hastily towards the boat, they heard 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 239 
 
 a voice singing cheerily, but with a wild and 
 strange melody, ever and anon changing. 
 They halted ; and Nigel, going to the edge of 
 the shore, knelt down and listened with his 
 ear close to the water. 
 
 " It is but the voice of Anniple of Dum- 
 blane,'' said he rising. 
 
 They then quickened their steps forward, 
 and soon came in sight of the little creek 
 where the boat was lying, fastened by a cable 
 of hair to the bough of a doddered tree 
 which overhung the water, and at the foot 
 of which the Spaewife was sitting. 
 
 " What do you there, Anniple?'' said 
 Nigel to her. 
 
 " I'm waiting for a braw bridegroom 
 that's coming to take me o'er the water ;" and 
 in making this answer she threw her eyes 
 quickly about, and seeing the Lord James in 
 the apparel of the Lady Glenjuckie, she 
 started up, and began to laugh and clap her 
 hands, tripping around him like one danc- 
 
ii III 
 
 240 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 ing the Volta, and singing as if she swept the 
 ground with a long and spacious train :— 
 
 I'll gar our gudeman trew, 
 
 That I'll tak' the fling strings, 
 
 Gif he winna ouy to me 
 
 Twelve bonny gold rings :— 
 
 Ane for ilka finger, 
 
 An' twa for ilka thumb ; 
 
 An' stand about, ye saucy quean, 
 
 it 
 
 An' gie my gown room. 
 
 I'll gar our gudeman trew, 
 
 That I'll sell the ladle, 
 
 Gif he winna buy to me 
 
 A braw riding saddle. 
 
 To ride t' the kirk and frae the kirk, 
 
 And up and down the town ; 
 
 And stand about, you saucy queun, 
 
 An gie my gown room. 
 
 While she was thus leaping and singing, 
 Nigel unmoored the boat, and pushing it in- 
 to deeper water, the Lord Jaraes sprung on 
 board, and Anniple followed him. 
 
THE SPAEWIFB. 
 
 241 
 
 How is this, Anniple ?" said Nigel • « I 
 thought you were waiting for a bridegroom to 
 
 take 
 
 you over ? 
 And is he not 
 
 side ?" was her 
 fruin, 
 
 come, 
 answer. ' 
 
 and down by my 
 But, Nigel Glen- 
 gang your ways home and count your 
 cows, for yonder's a score o' them driven away 
 m broad daylight." 
 
 " Both Nigel and the Lord James looked 
 around; but save the water, and the woods 
 that overhung the boat, they could see no- 
 thing. 
 
 " Where do you see what you say >- in 
 
 quired the Lord James, while Nigel appeared 
 
 awestruck and alarmed; for he had great 
 »a.th m her predictions, and doubted not that 
 
 >t was a vision of the second-sight in which 
 she had seen the cattle driven away. 
 
 " Is it the Macfarianes, or the Macgre<.ors 
 or the Colquhouns, or the Macaulays, "thai 
 you see lifting the cows?" said Nigel seri 
 ously. 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 

 THE Si'AEWIFiJ. 
 
 <■< Open ports ! open ports ! we're the King's 
 soldiers ;" replied Anniple triumphantly, flou- 
 rishing her hands and swinging her head, while 
 the Lord James, plying the oars, rowed the 
 boat from the shore ; for his anxiety to be be- 
 yond reach made him but little heed her 
 rhapsodies. 
 
 " Ye need na stress your strength,'' she 
 added, observing him. 
 
 «' Tell me," cried Nigel from the shore, 
 " what did you see ?" 
 
 " I saw, and I see, 
 
 A rope on a tree, 
 
 Swing swang, swing swan g" — 
 
 was however all the answer he obtained. Nor 
 was it more coiisolatory than the predictions 
 respecting the cattle ; for h seemed ominous 
 of some dreadful catastrophe to his father, 
 the thought of which for an instant made him 
 repent that he had not held possession of the 
 Lord James. 
 
 " Eh ! Nigel Glenfruin, cross yoursel, cross 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 243 
 
 yourseV exclaimed Anniple ; « wha's that be- 
 hind you ?" 
 
 The sough of horror with which she ut- 
 tered this, made not only Nigel look behind 
 "1 great alarm, but the Lord James suspend 
 the oars. 
 
 ** It's vveel for you, Nigel Glenfruin," re- 
 sumed Anniple, giving a sigh as if it were of 
 relief;' that ye re so guarded, for yon was a 
 gnm and a stalwart carl. I saw him rax his 
 muckle hand to tak' you. It was a' bones, 
 and no of an earthly hue, but a silver dove 
 flew in between and dabbit him away. O, I'm 
 fear't, for I doubt he was the Auld V 111 
 Thing." 
 
 Nigel crossed himself, and shuddering that 
 a kind thought should have tempted him to a 
 dishonourable desire, wished the Lord James 
 J<afe from his enemies. 
 
 " I trow," said Anniple as the boat moved 
 away, « that he'll ne'er think such a thought 
 again." 
 
'h 
 
 i 11 
 
 244 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 The Lord James then, dipping the oars into 
 the water, began to row, and Anniple sang— 
 
 " Lord Seton's only daughter 
 
 Is sitting in her bower, 
 
 And aye the sigh breaks frae her heart, 
 
 And her tears are like the shower ; 
 
 ' But the westlin' winds are blowing, 
 
 And the ship is on the sea, 
 
 And he's coming from a far, far land. 
 
 My own true love to be.' " 
 
 " I think, Anniple,'' said the Lord James, 
 when he had rowed to the skirts of Inch- 
 mo-an, " that it would have been as well for 
 you to have staid on the shore. I know not 
 how it is that I have so simply taken you 
 with me."" 
 
 " Ye could na do else ; ye could na help 
 it ; and I am none in your bethank for the 
 courtesie. But yell no fare the waur with 
 Anniple o' Dumblane, and I'll spae your 
 fortune ; — or a' be done, ye'll no ha'e to say 
 that I did na pay the ferry-fee." 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 245 
 
 " And what is my fortune to be ?" replied 
 the Lord James, resting his arms on the oars. 
 '* Without seer or prophecy, this much of it 
 I can read myself,-we shall not reach the 
 other shore to-night, and must find our haven 
 m one of these islands." 
 
 " Be thankful,- said Anniple ; - the beagle 
 loses scent at the waterside;" and she again 
 began to sing, and he to row. 
 
 The darkness of the night was then fast 
 closmg around, the blast came in fits from the 
 hills, and the skies had for some time been 
 overcast. The dampness of the air betokened 
 rain ; but, when it came on, it was a moisture 
 that rather oozed to wetness on the sense than 
 fell with any palpable annoyance. Anniple, 
 however, refrained from singing, and cowered 
 down into the bottom of the boat, where she 
 remained silent; but ever and anon she raised 
 her head, and bared her ear to th wind, and 
 listened— while the rising blast and drifting 
 waters sent a coldness upon the spirit of the 
 
 V ''li 
 
 'if 
 
 .tf 
 
 m 
 
am 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 81 i 
 
 T-.ord James, that made him sometimes al- 
 most resolve to abandon the oars and allow 
 the boat to be driven to her fate. 
 
 In one of these despondent moods he said — 
 
 " You have not yet told me what my for- 
 tune is to be. I doubt, Anniple, 'tis some- 
 thing that you fear to tell/' 
 
 " Hush, hush, the warst peril of your life's 
 no far off," was her reply ; and she raised her 
 head and peered along the waves, and listen- 
 ed. 
 
 " What shall we do ?" said the Lord James, 
 somewhat impressed by the evident anxiety 
 and eae-erness of her manner. " Row with the 
 
 CD 
 
 oars and plash in the water,— »" 
 
 '* Tide whatever may betide, 
 
 They're no to be born that maun be your bride. 
 
 I see a sight and I hear a sound, and now I'll 
 pay the ferry-fee." 
 
 Immediately thereupon she resumed the 
 place on the bench where she was first seated, 
 
THE SPA E WIFE. 
 
 5^47 
 
 rii 
 
 and began to sing with a loud and clear voice, 
 and so continued to do for some time, at the 
 end of every overcome of tlie ditty saying, in a 
 whisper, 
 
 " They're coming ! they Ve coming .' theyVe 
 cominnf !" 
 
 The spirit of the Lord James was in uni- 
 son with the despair of his fortunes, and he 
 looked around on the dark-heaving waters 
 and to the starless sky. His hands, unused 
 tr> the hard labour which he had long plied, 
 were then glowing almost to burning, and 
 his face chilled with the mist of the night : he 
 felt that he had sounded the depths of ad- 
 versity. 
 
 " TheyVe coming ! they're coming ! they're 
 coming!" said Anniple again, in a still more so- 
 lemn whisper, at the close of a verse which she 
 had hilariously sung, and her words seemed to 
 be the more fearful because of the mirth of her 
 song, which she resumed in a moment after 
 with still greater glee. In the middle, how- 
 
 ■iM 
 
 S 
 
248 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 ever, of the music, she suddenly paused, and 
 said — 
 
 " I see them yonder, black atween the 
 water and the sky/^ 
 
 The Lord James looked along the water, 
 and she continued to sing with a still blither 
 note. It was not, however, till she had again 
 repeated in the same strange and oracular 
 manner — " They're coming! they're coming ! 
 they're coming !" that he at last discerned a 
 large boat, with a wide sail spread, sailing 
 before the wind, and holding such a course 
 as would bring her within a short distance. 
 Then it was that he discovered the craft 
 of the loud and mirtliful ballad which 
 she \vas singing ; for the boat soon drawing 
 near, one on board hailed them, and inquired 
 where, they were going. 
 
 Tlie Lord James would have answered, 
 but Annipie laid her hand on his lips, and re- 
 plied in the words of the old song of the Kim- 
 mer's Craik— 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 249 
 
 *' And we toom't the bowie, 
 O ho, O ho— Trie, trow, trie ; 
 And the bride was fou, and coupit o'er, 
 As fou as a sow was she." 
 
 "What! Anniple, is it you? and what 
 wedding have you come from ?'' cried another 
 of those who were in the boat, which l)y this 
 time was close at hand. 
 
 " ril no tell, till I ken whare yeVe going," 
 was her answer. 
 
 " Ask her,'' said the voice who had first 
 spolcen ; and then a third person said— 
 
 " Have you heard any thing of the Lord 
 James of Albany, the rebel ?" 
 
 " O aye," was her answer ; " the provost of 
 Dumbarton catched him on the hills of Glen- 
 fruin, and has ta'en him away, they say, to be 
 hang't." 
 
 " Who have you in the boat with you .?" 
 " The miller of Luss's deaf and dumb 
 dochter. I wish she was blin' likewise ; for 
 seeing you she has stopped the oa,vs, and I 
 
 L 2 
 
 .-# i 
 
 'hi 
 
 ■1.51 
 
 m 
 
 :i\ 
 
 it 
 
 ills 
 
II 
 
 Rilii 
 
 :i: i 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 may as well think to gar Ben Lomond dance 
 La Volta to my singing, as bid her row till 
 ye'*re awa. A very good night I wish you." 
 
 To this no answer was made, but only a 
 shout of laughter ; and Anniple resuming her 
 song, die boat sailed away. 
 
 '' I trow, said Anniple, " that I have well 
 paid my ferry-fee, and now may ye shape 
 your course what way you will ; your moon's 
 changed, and the mirkcst hour of your night 
 past ; and she began to laugh and chatter 
 curiously with her teeth, saying — " They'll 
 hae three een that'll see through me." 
 
 The wonderment of the Lord James was 
 very great, at the simplicity wherewith she 
 had answered, and beguiled the officers in the 
 boat. — " Truly," said he, '' thou hast indeed 
 well paid thy ferry-fee ; but whither shall I now 
 fijOjfo?' all the country will soon be a-foot to take 
 me, and those in that boat will speedily suspect 
 what has been when they learn how I am dis- 
 guised in Leddy Gknjuckie's apparel." 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 251 
 
 Anniple, however, had no power nor capa- 
 city to advise, but she replied, — 
 
 " Gang as ye will, ye have but one road, 
 and that ye maun travel or sail, happen what 
 will." 
 
 So he, being wearied with his labcnir, and 
 his hands very sore, made for Inch-nio-an, 
 where they landed. 
 
 lit 
 
)>'''IHIW> 
 
 252 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 !i 
 
 CHAP. XXII. 
 
 The time was now drawing near, which the 
 King had set for laying the foundation of the 
 grand al)hey of the Charturaris at Perth, ac- 
 cording as he had secretly vowed to do, when- 
 ever peace and good order were estabhshed 
 tliroughout the realm; and he sent letters to all 
 liis great lords and puissant barons, inviting 
 thcin to be witnesses of the solemnity ; order- 
 ing manifold preparations to be made for the 
 entertainment of the commonalty, who from all 
 ])arts were flocking to behold the pomp of such 
 a ceremony as had not been seen in Scot- 
 land since the prosperous days of King David 
 the yirst. And the better to celebrate this 
 epoch of blessed peace in a Christian man- 
 ner, all prisoners, who were not accused of the 
 four great crimes, were to be forgiven of their 
 
 •1(1 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 253 
 
 transgressions and set free. The Queen her- 
 self, who had never ceased to lament the ab- 
 sence of her beloved Lady Sibilla, wrote kind 
 letters to her, earnestly entreating her to come 
 again to court, and exhorting her, with all 
 the pith and marrow of sweet eloquence, to 
 do her so signal a favour at that time ; for 
 without her the King's pious pageantry would 
 lack in the satisfaction whkh she desired 
 thereat to enjoy. 
 
 For a time the Lady Sibilla withstood all 
 these royal entreaties, and passed the slow 
 and melancholious hours in the peaceful nun- 
 nery of Inch-Colm, tasting, however, of no 
 pleasure from the pityful ministrations of the 
 holy sisterhood, scarcely even soothed by their 
 orisons, in which, though she bore a part, 
 and mingled her voice with the requiems to 
 Heave n, the ties of youthful lovo, and the 
 weight of fond anxieties, held her f>rlorn 
 s|>irit in captivity on the earth. Her only so- 
 lace was in wandering round the cliffs of the 
 
 ;i 
 
 'Ml 
 
K'l 
 
 Uo4> 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 il ' ' 
 
 I If 
 
 I.I :iilL < 
 
 "Mill ii 
 
 fiinlii 
 
 island ; and often, after the vesper-song, she 
 retired alone to the western summit of the 
 hill that overlooks the bay of Aberdour, and 
 there, with her cheek resting on her hand, 
 would sit listening to the breaking of the hol- 
 low waves below — the only delight she tasted 
 in all her sequestration being from the mur- 
 muring of their sullen harmonies. 
 
 It happened, soon after the adventures 
 whereof rt::ital has been made, that one night, 
 as she sat in that dismal condition, she ob- 
 served, by the obscure light of the stars, a 
 lx>at coming near to the rocks under the cliff 
 where she was seated ; and, in the sound of 
 the voices of those aboard, she thought that 
 there was one which she had heard before ; 
 so, being moved by curiosity from her listless- 
 ness, she rose and went near to a little bay in 
 the shore, to which she saw the boat was mak- 
 ing; and on drawing near, heard Glenfruin 
 exclaim— 
 
 Sowlls and podics ! King's herald, and 
 
 n 
 
 I'^f 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 255 
 
 will we pe here al night like a pird o' te water, 
 and a kirk and a tower in te veesibility of our 
 two eyes, where tere will pe te monks wi' 
 teir goot trinks and festeevitees ? — Oomph !" 
 
 The herald explained to him, that it was a 
 nunnery, and not a monastery, which he saw ; 
 and that although they might be permitted to 
 pass the night in the chapel, yet, while the 
 weather held up, he would rather remain in 
 the boat. 
 
 '* Put," replied Glenfruin, " we would pe 
 making our pregations, 'caz you know. King's 
 herald, tut we're in a jeopardee." 
 
 " For that," said Keith, " I have no ob- 
 jection to land for half an hour or so ; but 
 we must first let the Abbess know ; for there 
 have been such things done in holy houses, by 
 perstms seeking admission on pious pretexts, 
 tliat I doubt we should not else be allowed to 
 enter the church." 
 
 The Lady Sibilla, on hearing this, went 
 quickly to the convent, and apprised the nuns 
 
 :;i 
 
ii 
 
 
 ^6 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 of the arrival of the boat, and mentioned who 
 Glenfruin was, and in what manner he had so 
 faithfully protected herself; by which preven- 
 tion, when Keith and the chieftain came to the 
 gate to ask admission to the chapel, they were 
 readily allowed entrance; and the nuns, in con- 
 sideration of the hospitality that he had shewn 
 to the Lady Sibilla in her distress, prepared a 
 repast for ther;* rjy the time they had finished 
 their orisons ; to the which she was appointed 
 to invite them, not being professed to the 
 veil. Accordingly, when they rose from their 
 kneeling before the altar, she went into the 
 ciiaj)el, and met them as they were coming 
 away. 
 
 '* Sowlls and podies ! is it a ghost frae te 
 worm and te tomb, or te Laidie Sibeela a1 py 
 herselph, tat we spy ?" cried Glenfruin when 
 he saw her advancing; and immediately, 
 with many inflexions, brushing the pavement 
 of the church with his bonnet, he went to- 
 wards her, saying — 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 257 
 
 " Tis pe a saint and a miracle too ! for Glen- 
 fruin's in a custodee, and te Laidie Sibeela can 
 tel te King's herald tat how it \fas al a fair 
 and a just — Oomph." 
 
 This was not stated with sufficient perspi- 
 cuity to enable the Lady Sibilla to compre- 
 hend the condition of Glenfruin, and she said 
 to the herald, desiring s. »me farther explana- 
 tion, " What does Glenfruin mean ?" 
 
 " I am carrying him to be examined," re- 
 plied Keith respectfully, " touching a charge 
 of having wantonly hanged a monk." 
 
 '* Sowlls and podies ! King's herald, is na 
 te Laidie Sebeela tere ? Did na she see wi' her 
 eye, tat Faider Mungo would na come up and 
 pe hangt at al ?" 
 
 " I am grieved to hear," replied the Lady 
 Sibilla, " that you are brought into such 
 trouble on account of so unworthy a priest." 
 
 '< Tere ! King's herald," cried Glenfruin ; 
 " and is't a to-be-surely, tat te honest man 
 and te loyal tee will no get a glorification for 
 
 
I 
 
 !«58 
 
 THE 8PAEWIFH. 
 
 1 1 5l| 
 
 I'i 
 
 his servitudes, nor a smal rewart at al ? — 
 Oomph !" 
 
 '* But,'" resumed the herald, " he is accus- 
 ed of a still greater offence — no less than of 
 seizing the Duchess of Albany after she was 
 set free by the King^s command, and of hold- 
 ing her as Ins prisoner for a ransom— the 
 which is an off'ence that the King will not 
 lightly pardon." 
 
 The mention of her Grace's name touched 
 the wound of the Lady Sibilla''s heart, and 
 she said, " Alas ! ill-fated Lady ! how is it 
 with her now P**' 
 
 " She's al very well, and a consolation too," 
 replied the chieftain ; adding, " her Craze is 
 a pird on te bough tat sings for a happiness. 
 Put her oold laidie matam, she walks like te 
 frog to be sure, caz of her maladie."" 
 
 " Then it is true," said the Lady Si- 
 billa, " that she is in your castle, and a 
 prisoner ?" 
 
 *' SowUs and podies ! goot Laidie Sibeela^ 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 ^59 
 
 how is't a ting tat can pe, tid na she come on 
 a veesitation al o' her own gratus mind ?" 
 
 " I hope,'' interposed the herald, « that 
 you will be able to prove it was so ; but it 
 IS growing late, and we must return to the 
 boat, that we may get to Burntisland by day- 
 light, else shall we not be able to reach Perth 
 to-morrovr night in time to give you a chance 
 of being included in the general pardon ; for 
 the day after is appointed for the festival, and 
 the list of the absolved will be published in 
 the morning." 
 
 The Lady Sibilla then invited them to par- 
 take of the refection which the charitable 
 nuns had prepared, and having retired to her 
 own cell, she communed with herself on what 
 she had heard, and began to wish that she 
 had accepted the Queen's invitation, in order 
 that she might have been on the spot to ob- 
 t;iin her Majesty's mediation in behalf of 
 Glenfruin, whose faults were more of his 
 simplicity and ignorance, than of any innate 
 
Ill 
 
 2S0 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 malice of heart. And the more she thought 
 of this, her wish began to take the strength 
 of desire ; in so much, that by the time the 
 guests finished their repast, she had inform- 
 ed the Countess of Ross, that she intended 
 to go with them in the boat, and return for a 
 time to court, to use her good offices in be- 
 half of one, by whom, in her extreme distress, 
 she had been so favoured. 
 
 The Countess, whose anger against the 
 King for the little reverence that was paid to 
 the submission of the Lord of the Isles, burnt 
 as fiercely as ever, said all she could to dis- 
 suade her, and even chided her inconstancy 
 of mind ; but much of what she urged, in- 
 stead of weakening the resolution of the Lady 
 Sibilla, made it stronger. And thus it came 
 to pass, that she went with Glenfruin and the 
 herald, and, with the wonted freedom of her 
 spirit, unattended by any damsel, accompani- 
 ed them to Perth ; where, on arriving, and 
 learning that the King was then holding a 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 261 
 
 solemn council at Scone, she exhorted the 
 herald to take his prisoner at one thither; 
 and going hers<"lf with them, she was soon 
 welcomed by the sisterly embraces of the 
 Queen, who, rejoicing to see her, much laud- 
 ed her coming, the joy whereof was enriched 
 by being so unexpected. 
 
 ii 
 
 \{ 
 
THE L-;PAEWIF1^ 
 
 CHAP. XXIII. 
 
 I ! 
 
 Nigel, after leaving the creek where the Lord 
 James and the Spaewife had embarked, return- 
 ed towards the tower of Glenfruin, pondering 
 on what Anniple had said, and full of a fearful 
 dubiety concerning the things whereof she 
 had spoken ; and Celestine, after going some 
 distance on the road towards Luss, returned 
 to the same place, considering with himself, 
 that by the time he again reached the castle- 
 hill, the herald, with the chieftain and his at- 
 tendants, would be far advanced on their way 
 to Dumbarton, whither, as it has been re- 
 heai'sed, they were minded to go that nicpjit. 
 Thus it fell out, that N:gel and Celestine met 
 at the castle-gate, where they respectively con- 
 ferred of what had come to pass. 
 
 By this time the night had set in showery 
 
 d 
 
THE sPAK\riFj:. 
 
 2m 
 
 and blustering on the hills, so that there was 
 no choice but for Celestine to abide in the 
 castle, notwithstanding the prohibition which 
 Glenfruin himself had laid against all stran- 
 gers. Accordingly, after some further parley, 
 partly arising from the jealousy wherewith Ni- 
 gel saw his clansmen would regard the entrance 
 of the Campbells into the castle during tlie 
 absence of their chief, it was agreed, in order 
 to prevent quarrels, that Celestine alone 
 should be admitted, and that his men should 
 pass the night on the hill. 
 
 i'i.boit the time that this had been deter- 
 mined, the boat which passed the Lord James 
 and the Spaewife arrived at the foot of the 
 water of Glenfruin, and those who were on 
 board having landed, walked towards the 
 tower, the lights of which they had seen from 
 the lake. But on the shore, the drizzingly 
 shower so rose on the blast in their faces, that 
 they were obligated to pass, from time to time, 
 a ward- word among them, in order that they 
 
 'ill 
 III 
 
 it 
 
 i 
 
 Pi 
 
 I'll 
 
'it 
 
 'i *•; 
 
 J ilril 
 
 I i 
 
 ■ ! 
 
 Ui 
 
 
 ill 
 
 5ii 
 
 264 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 might not scatter themselves so far as to lose 
 one another. 
 
 Meanwhile, Celestine being admitted into 
 the castle, the gates were jealously shut, and a 
 strong watch set, both on the walls and in the 
 court, in case of any treachery among the 
 Campbells; and these wardens, hearing the 
 sound of many voices approaching as the 
 strangers drew near, were in great consterna- 
 tion and alarm, and secretly called Nigel from 
 the hall, to warn him of danger. 
 
 Nor was this without a show of reason ; for 
 the Campbells, as they lay on the ground in 
 the lea of the furze on the hill, also heard 
 the same sounds afar off* ; and listening and 
 conferring together, they discovered the tie- 
 word to be one that was their own, whereupon 
 they rose with a great shout, which struck 
 such fear into the breasts of the Glenfruins, 
 that four of them instantly rushed into the 
 hall and seized Celestine and Father Donich, 
 as they were sitting together discoursing in 
 
 6 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 265 
 
 the chimney corner, and made them prisoners ; 
 believing that the arrival of a new band of 
 Campbells, at that hour, was all of a strata- 
 gem to possess themselves of the castle,— such 
 doings being adventures of ordinary custom 
 during the turbulent rule and regency of the 
 Albanies. 
 
 Celestine and the chaplain, not knowing 
 what had chanced without, were in grea't 
 amazement, and bitterly reviled the perfidy of 
 the Glenfruins. 
 
 The manner in which the Duchess had been 
 made prisoner, the pretext on which the 
 Campbells had been denied the ordinary 
 usages of hospitahty, and the marvellous cun- 
 ning, as it seemed, of a youth so young and 
 so fair spoken as Nigel, were all things so 
 much of the same quality and spirit, that Ce- 
 lestine could find no sufficient words for his 
 indignation. His greatest alarm, however, 
 was for his cousin, the Lord James. The 
 story which Nigel had told him of his embarka- 
 
 Ml 
 
 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 M 
 
I 
 
 ■1 '■' 
 
 
 Mil 
 
 I i 
 
 266 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE, 
 
 tioii, he believed to be a fraudulent invention, 
 and he made no doubt that the ill-fated PrWce 
 was delivered into the custody of the herald, 
 to win favour with the government for his 
 father. 
 
 The anger of Nigel was not less ardent 
 against the deceit with which he on his part 
 conceived himself to have been treated, and 
 he returned into the hall with his sword un- 
 sheathed, and upbraided Celestine with many 
 sharp and rankling taunts. In the midst, 
 however, of their mutual upbraidings, and the 
 noise and dissonance that reigned widiin and 
 without, a horn was heard at the gate. 
 ' Nigel, at the sound, desisted from the 
 scorn with which he was addressing his sus- 
 pected guest, and sheathing his sword, went 
 to learn who it was that so courteously 
 sought admission. Finding, after some short 
 parley, that the strangers were clothed with 
 authority from the King, he gave orders to 
 let them in, and soon returned, ushering them 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 267 
 
 into the hal], where Celestine and Father 
 Donich were stiJl standing in the middle of 
 the floor, with their arms pinioned to their 
 sides by the fierce and stalwart Glenfruins. 
 
 The strangers were, Sir Duncan Campbell 
 of Loch Aw, the father of Celestine, and Sir 
 Patrick Graeme of Kincardine, with certain 
 of their respective retainers. 
 
 Sir Duncan was sent by the King to take 
 the Duchess from Glenfruin, and to conduct 
 her wheresoever she chose to go ; and Sir 
 Patrick was empowered with a royal mandate 
 to raise the country, in order that effectual 
 search might be made for the Lord James. 
 They had come together from the Buchanan 
 shore in the same boat, though their missions 
 were so different ; and out of tenderness for 
 her Grace's great sufferings, it was covenant- 
 ed between them, that until she was removed. 
 Sir Patrick should say nothing of his war- 
 rant, nor move in the execution thereof. It 
 was in consequence thought by Nigel, to 
 
268 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 whom Sir Duncan had declared the purport 
 of their visit, that they were come for the 
 same object. 
 
 But the Knight of Loch Aw had no sooner 
 entorfd the hall, when, seeing the singular 
 and ignominious manner in which his son 
 and domestic chaplain were held, than he loud- 
 ly demanded an explanation. 
 
 Celestine, knowing how Uttle his father 
 would approve of the adventure in which he 
 had embarked for the Lord James, briefly 
 stated, that, in pursuit of his game, he had 
 been led to Lochlomond-side, and had come in 
 the afternoon to Glenfruin, wherehe was mind- 
 ed to spend the night : but that in a sudden 
 manner both he and Father Donich were made 
 prisoners, and held in the condition in which 
 lie saw them; the reason wherefor he could 
 not divine, unless it were to extort from them 
 a ransom, s\ich as Glenfruin himself had 
 intended to do with his aunt, the Duchess 
 of Albany, who was then in the castle. 
 
 II I 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 269 
 
 This tale did not, however, satisfy Sir 
 Duncan Campbell, who was no stranger to 
 the partiaUties which his son bore towards 
 his mother's turbulent kindred, and he turned 
 round abruptly to Father Donich, and de- 
 manded to know how he too was there. 
 " What game,'' said he, « has led Father Do- 
 nich to Lochlomond-side ?" 
 
 Sir Patrick Graeme was not a little amazed 
 at what was thus passing, and listened and 
 looked on with his mind apert, and his sus- 
 picions all awake; for he well knew how 
 much the house of Loch Aw was divided, on 
 ai count of the filial affections of the lady. 
 
 Father Donich being at a loss what answer 
 to make, instead of replying, struggled to be 
 free of those who held him in their grip. 
 In the meantime, Nigel remembering what 
 Celestine had said with respect to the differ- 
 ence between him and his father concerning 
 his kinsman, quicViy discovered the hasty 
 error which, in a moment of alarm, he had so 
 
 i5 
 
 
:i 
 
 270 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 discourteously committed afrainst his guest, 
 itud replied, without seeming to have ob- 
 served what Sir Duncan had said to Father 
 Donich. 
 
 " I am grieved for what has happened ; 
 but this evening my father was summoned 
 by horn and caption to appear before the 
 King ; and having been taken away, it was 
 his command, that, during his absence, stran- 
 gers should not be admitted. When, how- 
 ever, Celestine Campbell came hither, I 
 could not deny him so much hospitality as 
 shelter for the night. Still anxious, how- 
 ever, that my father's orders should not be 
 altogether contemned, it was agreed that 
 his clansmen should remain on the hill ; 
 where, it would appear, when they heard you 
 coming, they shouted and made a noise ; the 
 which caused us to fear that the Campbells 
 were come first with Celestine to gain admis- 
 sion by streitagem, and then with you to con- 
 summate the plot." 
 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 271 
 
 
 " The tale is plausible/' said Sir Patrick 
 Graeme; "but how is it that this reverend 
 friar is also here ?" 
 
 Father Donich, now having recovered his 
 wits, was able to frame a fair story, replied, 
 " I was sent by my good Lady of Loch Aw, 
 to bear her kind and loving condolence to 
 the Duchess." 
 
 '*■ May this be credited?" inquired Sir 
 Patrick, addressing himself to Sir Duncan, 
 who, evidently in much trouble, said — 
 
 " I pray you, do not sift me in this too 
 curiously. I have ever done my duty as a 
 true man in the King's service, and I have 
 never known my son guilty of any dishonour ; 
 I think it may not be questioned that my wife 
 was likely to send her chaplain on the errand 
 which he says, ard I will acknowledge to 
 you freely, that I suspect my son has also 
 come with some similar intent." 
 
 " I see not," replied the Knight of Kin- 
 cardine, " much to condemn in all that ;" but 
 
 
'!t 
 
 Hi 
 
 ■ T 
 
 272 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 turning to Nigel, he added, " Have you 
 lieard ought, in these parts, of the traitor 
 James of Albany ?" 
 
 " Yes,"" replied Nigel : " he was here this 
 afternoon." 
 
 " What, in this castle?" inquired Sir 
 Patrick eagerly. Celestine Campbell gasp- 
 ed, and Father Donich stood like one that is 
 smitten with some inexpressible despondency. 
 
 " No ; not in the castle,"" resumed Nigel ; 
 but just under the walls."" 
 
 " And what has become of him ? Why 
 did you not seize him ? Wherefore was he 
 allowed to escape ?''"' exclaimed Sir Patrick 
 Graeme. 
 
 " He was not allowed to escape."'"' 
 
 " O treacherous villain !"" muttered Celes- 
 tine, unable any longer to restrain his grief 
 at such treachery. 
 
 Sir Duncan Campbell said nothing, but 
 ruefully shook his head, while Sir Patrick 
 resumed, addressing Sir Duncan : — 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 273 
 
 " The poor creature in the boat with tlie 
 deaf and dumb woman has then told us true. 
 He lias been carried to Dumbarton." 
 
 Nigel immediately discerned that they must 
 have met the Lord James in his disguise 
 with Anniple, and he added briskly, " I 
 know not by whom he was taken, but most 
 likely it may have been by the governor of 
 Dumbarton, who has at present with him a 
 great force." 
 
 Celestine looked at Nigel, and felt that he 
 had done the youth injustice; but he could 
 make no atonement in the presence of those 
 before whom he then stood. 
 
 " I fear, Celestine," said his father, " that 
 you have greatly incurred the King's dis- 
 pleasure ; but, since your unfortunate cousin 
 is taken, go with Sir Patrick Graeme in the 
 morning to Perth, and do what you can to 
 make your peace with his Majesty. As soon 
 as I have executed my orders with respect to 
 the Duchess, I will follow you thither." 
 
 M 2 
 
 
 r> .1.1 
 
 
 r.v 
 
2T4 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 Thus was order restored in the hall of 
 Glenfruin ; and next morning, all due pre- 
 paration for the same being made, the 
 l^uchess, with Leddy Glenjuckie and Celes- 
 tine, embarked along with Sir Duncan Camp- 
 bell and the Knight of Kincardine for Inch- 
 Murrin. 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 UKS 
 
 CHAP. ..XIV. 
 
 Soon after the aeparture of those who went 
 away with the Duchess, Nigel, according to 
 what had been pactioned with the Lord James, 
 ascended the hill behind le tower of Glen- 
 fruin, to see if he might discover where the 
 Prince had landed, by the smoke of any fire 
 on the Ben Lomond side of the lake. But 
 although the air was clear and still, in so 
 much, that the shadows of all things in the 
 water were not rimpled by the transit of the 
 softest breeze, he yet could discern no signal 
 of the kind ; and he returned to the castle in 
 much tribulation of spirit, and rested his 
 forehead on his hand, not knowing what he 
 should then do. For, being scarcely more 
 than a striphng, he lacked that confidence in 
 himself which prompts to faith in others; 
 
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 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 and anxious as ho was to consult with some of 
 those of the clan whom he knew to be bold 
 and discreet, he was diffident to trust them 
 with the matter of his fears, on account of the 
 situation in which his father, their chieftain 
 and master, then was placed. 
 
 He was fearful they would think it their 
 duty only to search for the outlaw, in order 
 that he might be given up for Glenfruin, or 
 for the IX ward that the service of bringing in 
 so eminent an offender was likely to obtain ; 
 for he had overheard them murmuring, during 
 the night, that the opportunity of taking him 
 should have been so lost. 
 
 He had not, however, remained long in 
 that posture of doubt and rumination, when 
 Hector MacAllisner of Glenmallochan, one 
 of those in whom he was most inclined to con- 
 fide, came and informed him that the clansmen 
 from all parts were gathering in, much mal- 
 content that Glenfruin should have been taken 
 away. 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 'Zll 
 
 " We/' said he, " who accompanied the 
 herald to Dumbarton, were not permitted 
 to enter the town, but were driven away 
 in a contumelious manner. We made not 
 the value of a cock nor a hen by the jour- 
 ney/' 
 
 " All we do now," continued Hector Mac- 
 Allisner of Glenmallochan, speaking in the 
 Celtic tongue, which may be thus rendered— 
 " All is for a nothing. Hamies Maclvan of 
 Mollin-cruine wanted to get a cow with calf 
 for his wife's down-lying; and young Ivan 
 Maclvan of Ardgask would hae been con- 
 tent with a sucking horse, as his own foal 
 was lifted last week by some of the Macfar- 
 lanes or the Colquhouns ; Alimor MacHa- 
 mies had promised his new wife a web of 
 cheque or harn; and Walter Dhue wished 
 for but a spade, the shaft of his own being 
 broken. One of the bailies has a saddle, 
 that would just have fitted my gelding; 
 but devil a thing got we at all." 
 

 
 ii 
 
 I 
 
 278 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 *' What a pity,'' said Nigel ; " and how 
 did it so happen ?" 
 
 " It conies all of the English King's new 
 laws/' replied Hector MacAUisncr. " Wards 
 are set round the town, to warn the burghers 
 when any Highlanders are seen coming near — 
 which is a custom that should not be endured. 
 We shall soon be all fireside sloths like the 
 Lowlanders ; — for, in consecpience, when we 
 were within about half-a-mile of the town, the 
 burghers came forth with swords and bows, in 
 such force that wo durst aot touch the hair 
 of a horse's tail. The very wives ran flap- 
 ping with their a])rons, driving their cocks 
 and hens into the houses. The time has 
 been when they all fled screaming to the hills, 
 and left every thing to our free choosing. 
 But I fear, I fear that the hearty days of 
 rugging and rieving are gone— that the age 
 of lawyers and warders has come — and the 
 giory of the Highlands is departed for ever !" 
 
 Nigel was very sorrowful to hear Hector 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 279 
 
 how 
 
 MacAllisner speak in this mournful manner, 
 and bade him hope for better times. 
 
 " Ah !'^ replied Hector, " we shall never 
 see the blithe days again that we had in Duke 
 Murdoch^s time. Then the Lowlanders re- 
 spected the heroic virtues of the Highlanders, 
 and there was neither scant nor want of the 
 best things, not only of Dund)artoK, but even 
 of Glasgow and Renfrew—in the very sheil. 
 ings of tl)e hills of Lennox— aye, even of 
 Lorn.'^ 
 
 " It was indeed a black day for all this 
 country-side,'' said Nigel, « when the Duke 
 brought in King James." 
 
 " In losing his head for his pains he got 
 but a just reward," said Hector; "but the 
 whole Highlands owe the Glenfruins a grudge, 
 because we took not the Lord James' side at 
 the burning of Dumbarton. Had we done 
 so, he might this day have been the JCing on 
 the throne ; and what a blessing that would 
 have been to all the Highlanders I" 
 
 I 
 

 «L -f 
 
 280 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 Nigel was somewhat surprised to liear him 
 speak after that manner, and said — " It was 
 always hitherto thought, that my father acted 
 a wise and a discreet part on that occasion." 
 
 " What has he made by it ?" exclaimed 
 Hector, " Did not the Macfarlanes, the Mac- 
 aulays, the Colquhouns, and the Macgregors, 
 feather their nests with the Earl of Lennox's 
 cattle ; to say nothing of what the Buchanans 
 and others herrit from his lands beyond the 
 Levcn before the Highlanders got there; while 
 the Glenfruins were sitting on the hills with 
 their fingers in their mouths.'" 
 
 " But my father expected,'" said Nigel, 
 ** that he would have been rewarded with some 
 part of the earldom of Lennox.^' 
 
 *' Has he been so rewarded .'^'" cried Hector, 
 growing more vehement. " What got the 
 clan by their readiness in rising against the 
 Macdonalds, but their own meal which they 
 carrietl with them for the war.^^ What got 
 Glenfruin for catching Sir Robert Graeme, 
 
 u 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 281 
 
 It 
 
 and taking him to Blair Athol, but cold 
 thanks for his pains ; and the Duchess, that 
 we all expected would have paid a rich ran- 
 som, is not she taken away? And Glenfruin 
 himself, that should be here, is he not carried 
 off to be hangt or headed like a traitor ? Call 
 ye that a reward either to chief or clan? 
 But, Nigel of Glenfruin, that is not what I 
 am sent from the clansmen to tell you. We 
 like not that you should have known how the 
 Lord James was here yesterday, especially, 
 that, instead of trusting your own men, you 
 should have been in league with Celestine 
 Campbell concerning him." 
 
 " What would the clan have done, had I 
 broken my word and betrayed the Prince ?" 
 
 " We would have hangt the King's herald 
 for daring to arrest Glenfruin in his own cas- 
 tle, and have set up the Prince — all the Len- 
 nox men are ripe, and ready to take his part. 
 But, Nigel of Glenfruin, you have not a true 
 heart, neither for father nor kinsman, and the 
 
282 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 clan are resolved to make your cousin, Rodric 
 MacNigel, chief, till Glenfruin is restored, 
 unless you will give them satisfaction." 
 
 " What satisfaction do they expect ?"*' said 
 Nigel, struggling to appear calm and col- 
 lected. 
 
 " That you will tell them where the Lord 
 James is ; for they know it is not as was said, 
 that he has yet been taken.*" 
 
 " And if I do so, what then ?" 
 
 " And that you will, as soon as it can safe- 
 ly be done, either demand, or take from the 
 Duchess, a sufficient satisfaction for the ran- 
 som that was expected." 
 
 " We might as well declare ourselves in 
 rebellion at once. Surely you cannot but 
 know that the King's strength is every where 
 in the country, and there is no clan, however 
 powerful, that may venture to measure swords 
 with it. Have you not but just told me, that 
 you dare not lift a cow or a carrion from the 
 very burghers of Dumbarton ? Truly, Hec- 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 283 
 
 tor MacAllisner, this is mutiny and sedition 
 without reason, and I will not ruin the clan 
 by lending myself to the blind impulses of 
 mere rage." 
 
 He then paused, and communed with him- 
 self for some time in silence ; after which he 
 added — 
 
 " This much I will do freely, Hector : let 
 us seek the Lord James, who must be some- 
 where about the skirts of the lake ; but let the 
 clan consider, that as he is our lawful Prince, 
 and may one day be King, even by right 
 without might, whether it would not be wise 
 to refrain from any attempt to molest his 
 mother. This I was minded to have pro- 
 posed to you ; for, unless we find and succour 
 him, hunger will soon drive him into the 
 hands of others, who will thereby gain all the 
 advantages that might be ours." 
 
 Hector pondered for some time, and then 
 he said—- 
 
nil': 
 
 284 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 " But what shall we do with him if we do 
 not set him up ?" 
 
 " Keep him in secret, be hospitable to him, 
 earn his favour, and await what is to come 
 hereafter." 
 
 Some farther discourse ensued, wherein 
 Hector was made sensible that the young 
 chieftain counselled more wisely than those 
 who had sent him to make their complaint, 
 and he returned to them on the castle-hill 
 where they were assembled, and reported 
 what had passed. Nigel soon after also went 
 thither ; and though for the most part they 
 received him with joyous shouts, yet were 
 many among them sullen, and stubbornly 
 knotted to the mutinous suggestions of his 
 cousin, Roderic MacNigel, a fierce and head- 
 strong youth, who thought, by fostering these 
 discontents, to have been chosen chief till the 
 return of his uncle, and by course of things, 
 if he was never permitted to return, to have 
 remained his successor. 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 285 
 
 Nigel was sorely grieved to observe this di- 
 vision among his clansmen ; and fearing that 
 those who were of his cousin's faction would 
 frustrate the scheme which he had proposed, 
 and betray the ill-fated outlaw whom he was 
 so anxious to protect, he returned into the 
 hall followed by Hector MacAUisner, and 
 almost wept for bitterness of spirit, at finding 
 himself environed with difficulties, which, as 
 it then seemed, could not be mastered with- 
 out great detriment to his own honour, and 
 danger beyond all estimate or measure to the 
 clan. 
 
286 
 
 ' n 
 
 ^ 
 
 fl 
 
 
 m 
 
 
 1 
 
 i 
 
 i . 
 
 
 1; 
 
 ■ 
 
 i ■ 
 
 
 
 I 
 
 1 
 
 
 1 
 
 • 
 
 '1 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 CHAP. XXV. 
 
 In the meantime, the Lord James and An- 
 niple being driven by the wind and waves into 
 the narrow sound between Inchconagan and 
 Indimo-an, landed on the latter island, and 
 went in search of a place of shelter ; for the 
 wind was gusty, and from time to time the 
 tail of a heavy shower swept over them. The 
 Lord James, weary at heart, and heavy with 
 his disconsolate thoughts, walked on in si- 
 lence, and Anniple followed, ever and anon 
 lifting the skirt of his plaid to screen her 
 from the rain, as she went coweringly behind 
 crooning some old uncouth ditty. 
 
 Their search, however, was in vain, for nei- 
 ther rock nor tree could be found ; and though 
 from time to time the faint and ghastly light 
 of the northern streams broke from the 
 
 1^' 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 287 
 
 clouds, and dimly showed all around the black 
 moss and the dark heaving waters, no sign of 
 any shelter could be discovered. Still the 
 wind was rising, the showers were coming 
 heavier and faster, and Anniple not only re- 
 frained from churming her song, but began 
 to ban the malicious fairies that had made her 
 > suffer such a life of molestation. 
 
 As they were thus wandering in the gloom, 
 the Lord James chanced to stumble into a 
 place whence peats had been delved, and 
 would have fallen headlong, but that at the 
 time Anniple had hold of his plaid. When, 
 however, he recovered, and turned round to 
 speak to her, she was gone, having darted 
 away like an arrow from a bow. Notwith- 
 standing the darkness of the night, she ran 
 straight back to the boat, on board of which 
 she leapt at once, and gathered herself as 
 it were into a bunch in the bottom, say- 
 ing— 
 
 " Beds were made for the blest and the 
 
 
 I 
 
Pii 
 
 Sli 
 
 288 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 born ; but the lea of a deal or a dyke's good 
 enough for me." 
 
 In that situation she fell asleep, and when 
 she awoke and looked over the side of the 
 boat, she found that the tempest had ceased, 
 and that the grey eye of the morning was 
 just beginning to peer thiough the mist into 
 which tlie he;: /y clouds of the night had re- 
 solved themselves. 
 
 Being cold and wet, she almost immediately 
 cowered down again into the bottom of the 
 boat ; but suddenly recollecting that she was 
 alone, and in the middle of the lake, she start- 
 ed up and began to cry and hail with a loud 
 and shrill voice, in the hope that she might be 
 iieard. Then she attempted to move the 
 oars, which swung on pivots, but they were too 
 ponderous for her strength, and she soon 
 abandoned the toil. At last she bethought 
 herself of the rc^r^ged remnant that served 
 her for a mantle, and getting up on a bench, 
 she spread it to the wind. In tijs manner 
 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. jegg 
 
 She drifted near to the shore where the 
 nver Leven runs away ; there, leaving the 
 boat loose on the margent of the lake, she 
 went up the country, reckless of the condition 
 ui which she had left her companion. 
 
 It had, however, fared better with the 
 Lord James than with her; for. after she 
 left him, he came to a hovel raised by the 
 peat-makers to sleep i„ when employed i„ 
 d>gg>ng the turf, and he went into it, and 
 found a better asylum than he could have 
 hoped to meet with on that lone and melan- 
 chohous island. Having struck a light with 
 his sword from a stone, he kindled a fire with 
 some of the moss and turf wherewith the bield 
 was covered, at which he sat for some time 
 expecting the Spaewife; but seeing she came 
 not, he went often to the door and called her 
 by name, fearing that some accident had be 
 fallen her. As, however, she never made h^-r 
 appearance, he began to conjecture that she 
 had perhaps found some similar place of shel. 
 vol,. 11. 
 
 
 
I'llil 
 
 If" 
 
 i 'iK' 
 
 
 290 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 ter, and composed himself to sleep, to which 
 he was the more easily invited by the anxieties 
 and the toil he had undergone. 
 
 In this state of defencelessness he con- 
 tinued till the sun was risen ; and when 
 he awoke, he beheld an old man of a very 
 venerable aspect standing mournfully over 
 him. His countenance was pale, dejected, 
 and meek, and there was a holiness in his 
 eyes that betokened the patient melancholy 
 of a resigned and sorrowful heart. His 
 garb, and the rosary at his girdle, shewed 
 that he was a priest ; but he wore no cowl, 
 and his grey hair fell over his dark vesture 
 like the breaking of a silvery stream down the 
 rocky side of a heathy hill. 
 
 The Lord James at once started up, and 
 gazing at him for a moment, rushed into his 
 fatherly embra<.es ; for in him he discovered 
 the aged confessor of his grandfather, the 
 Earl of Lennox. But the old man for some 
 time could only weep. 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 291 
 
 « Alas ! my dear Lord/' said he, « I 
 thought that I had shed all my tears, and that 
 when I had followed my noble master to his 
 doom, Heaven had reserved for me no great- 
 er trial ; but the condition in which I have 
 found you, tells me that there was a pang 
 which till this morning I had not proved. O 
 the anguish of that pity with which I beheld 
 the son of so many kings sleeping forlorn in 
 such a place as this !" 
 
 Father Kessog then told him, that after 
 the dreadful business at Stirling he had re- 
 tired from the world, and reared a lowly cell 
 in one of the neighbouring islands, where he 
 had since lived in undisturbed solitude the 
 life of a hermit. *' Come with me thither, 
 you will be safer than here ; for the people' 
 around, ever since I took up my abode alone, 
 have regarded Inchtavannach as a conse- 
 crated place." 
 
 The Lord James wAs right well content to 
 experience so soon the truth of the predictions 
 
29a 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE, 
 
 '.'I' 
 
 with which Anniple had, in her uncouth sim- 
 plicity, tried to cheer him ; and he entreated 
 that she might be sought for and taken with 
 them. After, however, going all round the 
 island, and seeing that the boat in which he had 
 come was not there, they naturally concluded 
 she had gone away in it, as rehearsed, and they 
 returned back to a little tree close to the shore 
 near the hovel, where they embarked on a raft 
 which the hermit had brought with him, and 
 which he had fastened to the tree. 
 
 " Last night," said the venerable man, " as 
 he pushed the raft towards Inchconagan, I 
 saw the dawn of a light rising from Inchmo-an, 
 and this morning about daybreak I heard a 
 very lamental j cry, as of one in jeopardy, 
 afar off on the waters, and I thought that 
 surely some malchance had happened ; where- 
 upon I rose. And many trees having been 
 lately felled on the islands, I put a raft of 
 them together, and came over to Inchconagan, 
 where, seeing some vapour of smoke rising 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 29S 
 
 from the sheillin, I framed this also to pass 
 over to Inchmo-an, to render what assistance I 
 eould, and had but shortly arrived before you 
 awoke." 
 
 Father Kessog having thus informed the 
 Lord James in what manner he had been led 
 to come to him, they conveyed themselves on 
 the raft, first across the sound of Inchconagan, 
 and walking over that isle, then they embark- 
 ed again on the other raft, and passed to the 
 land whereon the hermit had raised his soli- 
 tary dwelling. 
 
 Verily it was a region meet for holy mus- 
 ings and heavenly contemplations. Scarcely 
 had the long-hunted outlaw put his foot upon 
 the thymy sod, than he felt the gracious spirit 
 of the place mingling with his feelings, and 
 like the down and moss of the nest that re- 
 ceives the panting and harassed bird which 
 has escaped the fowler, at once ministering to 
 security and repose. Above, and all around 
 the little green dell wherein t'jx hermit had 
 
 ifti 
 
m 
 
 S94 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 
 I 
 
 built his lowly habitation, the boughs of the 
 birch, the oak, the hazel, and the pine, "were 
 blended as it were in the embraces of a friend- 
 ly union. In the woods, the spots on the yel- 
 low leaf were here and there just beginning to 
 appear ; but still the fragrant birch had not , 
 lost all her vernal beauty, for, as the soft 
 morning gale played with her foliage, she 
 turned the silver lining of her vesture to the 
 light, as if pleased to be caressed by so gentle 
 a zephyrus of the lingering summer. The oak 
 too was still in his vigour, and if a tarnished 
 bough or spray denoted that he had lately en- 
 countered the forerunners of the Sy thian hosts 
 of winter, they were like the young warrior's 
 crest that has felt, but not been dishonoured 
 by the foe. The hazel also stood green and 
 bushy on the shelvy banks, a little faded 
 from the trim of his summev holidays, like 
 the blithe school-boy, careless of his attire, 
 who seeks to plunder him of his clusters ; — 
 but the pine carried his evergi'een tufts un- 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 295 
 
 changed, stately and superior, like some proud 
 and gallant challenger, who, rich in ancient 
 pedigrees, boasts of anticipated triumphs ;— 
 while the brambles, with their flowers and ber- 
 ries on the same stalk, their thorny branches 
 and serrated foliage, rose amidst, among, and 
 around, like notable housewives, that please, 
 cherish, and vex the loftier lords whom they 
 encircle with their fond arms and fretting 
 conjugalities. There also the twice-visiting 
 primrose was seen among the cliffy rocks 
 peeping from her mossy nook, like some pale 
 and timid spinster, who, having eschewed 
 the summer eyes of mankind, endeavours to 
 put forth her beauty again when there is no 
 willingness to look upon her. In a few places, 
 amidst thistles and other joyless weeds, the 
 ungenial fox-glove, erect and solitary, held up 
 his head, with his crimson purses all on one 
 side, like a rich bachelor that presents but his 
 barren left hand to the fair ladies. 
 
 The birds, and all living things that moved 
 
 ffm 
 
me 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 I 
 
 II 
 1 1 
 
 llj 
 
 i 
 
 there were tamed, as it were by the spirit of 
 Eden. The hares and leverets on the green 
 leapt playfully at the skimming swallows. 
 The deer looked out from the woods, pleased 
 with the countenance of man, and the fawn 
 came gamboling to give him welcome. 
 
 It was in sooth a still and pleasant solitude, 
 wherein a holy spirit dwelt in visible beauty, 
 to win the stranger, whether guided thither 
 by chance or driven by adversity, to pause and 
 receive some gentle lesson of virtue. For there 
 the leaves were eloquent with benignant in- 
 struction—when the air was still, they taught 
 in their siience the sweet morality of affection 
 that delights to cherish unsought and without 
 ceasing— when stirred by the breeze, they 
 whispered as with an admonishing counsel, to 
 beware of the incitements of desire; and, 
 amidst the storm, they declaimed of the im- 
 measurable vehemence of passion. " Even 
 the stones here also preach,^' said Father Kes- 
 sog, as he pointed out these things to his pen- 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 297 
 
 sive companion. « They remind us, when 
 they are bright and dry, that the heart of 
 man is hard and arid in prosperity ; and when 
 they are moistened by only the dew, do they 
 not prove how small a thing it is that serves 
 to sadden the bosom ? Listen also to the run- 
 ning waters, do they not warn us that life is 
 flowing away?— and these rocks, so channelled 
 and worn, and hoary, tell they not of things 
 that have been from of old, whereof no man 
 can divine the purpose, and bear witness to 
 the mysteries wherewith the world has been 
 conceived, setting at nought the groping 
 wisdom of presumptuous mortality."" 
 
 Thus did the hermit talk with the unfortu- 
 nate prince, as he led him to his cell, wherein 
 he had prepared a hollow tomb for himself, ' 
 in which he nightly made his bed. « In this 
 tomb," said he, « should need ai-ise, you can 
 be concealed. Alas ! there is no resting-place 
 for man but the grave." 
 
 N 2 
 
 
298 
 
 THE 8PAEWIFB. 
 
 CHAP XXVI. 
 
 It was some time after the arrival of the Lady 
 Sibilla with Glenfruin at Scone, before the 
 King came from the council which he was then 
 holding ; and he had not heard of her return 
 till he entered the chamber where she was 
 sitting with the Queen and the ladies of the 
 court at their evening pastimes. 
 
 The business wherewith he had been en- 
 gaged being the pardon of prisoners whose 
 offences were not of a deep dye, and other 
 resolutions of beneficence, which were to be as 
 harbingers to the solemnity of the morning— 
 when the foundations of the abbey which he 
 had promised to build were to be laid— he en- 
 tered the room with unwonted cheerfulness-— 
 so much more in unison with the benevolence 
 of his nature were deliberations of that kind, 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 299 
 
 than the stern decrees and mandates he had so 
 often and so long sent forth. Thus it was that, 
 with a buoyant step and a joyous air, he wel- 
 comed the unlooked-for return of the fair he- 
 roine; and his satisfaction was increased by 
 her visible endeavour to break through the 
 cloud of melancholy that still obscured the 
 splendour of her beauty. She had indeed re- 
 solved to dress her looks to the time and occa- 
 sion, and to try whether, with a gayety more 
 in the fashion of the smiling masques worn 
 by those around her, she might not attain 
 her purpose better than by the anxious and 
 regardless earnestness which had formerly 
 proved of so little avail. Accordingly, she 
 answered to his playful chidings for having 
 been so long a truant, with so much of that 
 happy gracefulness which chaimed all eyes 
 before she had tasted of disappointment and 
 sorrow, that he began to hope her gloom was 
 past, and to rally her again on behalf of 
 Stuart. 
 
 w 
 
 1 
 
M 
 
 .i:* 
 
 300 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 " He has been ever since," said his Majes- 
 ty, " the most rueful and forlorn of swains* 
 This morning he came back with the Earl of 
 Atho], but so changed, and all by your cruel- 
 ty, that he hath not confidence to look one in 
 the face ; and when he answers, for he never 
 now speaks of his own accord, he starts, and 
 replies so far from the jet of the question, that 
 he seems more like the guilty heart-breaker 
 than the broken-hearted. Verily, sweet cousin, 
 you have a great indemnity to pay." 
 
 " But not to him," replied Sibilla; " for 
 I must account myself favoured of the stars, 
 that among the crosses of my lot, I have still 
 escaped the thraldom of one so easily made 
 such a malcontent." 
 
 In this conjuncture of their discourse, that 
 renowned gentlewoman, the Lady Katherine 
 Douglas, who was of a bolder and freer tem- 
 perament, being then standing near, said to the 
 Lady Sibilla, from the words of a poem which 
 his Majesty had shortly before indited— 
 
THE SPAEWIFB. 
 
 301 
 
 
 " Of a' those maidens mild and meed, 
 Were nane sae jimp as Oilly ;; 
 Like ony rose her rewd was red— 
 Her lear was like the lily. 
 O, yellow, yellow was her head, 
 But she wi' love was silly ; 
 Though a' her kin had sworn her dead, 
 She would ha'e but sweet Willy." 
 
 ** How can you," said the Queen, coming 
 towards them, " tease her with such poor 
 madrigals ?" 
 
 " Ah !" replied his Majesty laughing, « I 
 never knew a wife that was not jealous of her 
 husband's muse. But what can we do to 
 content our fair cousin, and prove how truly 
 we esteem this unlooked-for pleasure .f*" 
 
 " O ! many things, many," said the Lady 
 Sibilla, still in a jocund key ; *• but I shall 
 be too happy with two, and one of them is the 
 fjlliiment of a promise of an ancient date; 
 namely, that pretty impress of your Majesty's 
 mellifluous poesy, ' The Kings Quair,' in- 
 
I i 
 
 l*i 
 
 302 
 
 THE 8PAEWIFB. 
 
 scribed on vellum by the Westminster penman ; 
 and wherein there is that fair limning of the 
 Queen, as she is depicted in the verse, smil- 
 ing with the inward delight of some kind 
 fancy. It is a debt that your Majesty is not 
 honest in withholding." 
 
 " And it shall be paid this same night ; 
 but what other grace will you demand.? I 
 pray it may not be even to the half of our 
 kingdom.*" 
 
 A little pause thereon followed, and both 
 the Queen and the Lady Katherine Douglas 
 looked grave at eacii other. The Lady Si- 
 billa, however, put on her gayest smile, and 
 said- — 
 
 " I doubt not it will be more readily ac- 
 corded to me than the first ; for I would but 
 ask what will give pleasure to his Majesty 
 without making him poorer. 
 
 " A simple old man, who has been my com- 
 panion hither, stands somewhat in the shade 
 of your royal displeasure, and he has come, 
 
 i 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 303 
 
 I find, too late to be included in the general 
 pardon." 
 
 The King's smile disappeared ; but the 
 Queen took the Lady Sibilla by the hand, and 
 said to his Majesty — 
 
 " Now, were I the King, I would comply 
 with this charity, and give the pardon on the 
 suit of our cousin without requiring to know 
 more. It is sufficient that the offender has 
 obtained her advocacy/' 
 
 His Majesty sighed, and with a mild and 
 gracious accent replied to tl\e Queen — 
 
 "That you love me with all the constancy 
 and affection which the heart of man can de- 
 sire in woman, I believe as sincerely as any 
 worshipper who hath faith in the shrine to 
 which he kneels ; but I would have you to 
 love my honour and renown also ; for Kings 
 have two natures and characters — in the one, 
 weak, passionate, and froward, they move in 
 their errors like the lowest vassal ; in the 
 other they are as gods, abstract and sublime, 
 
 m 
 
304 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 I i 
 
 and according as their edicts and awards 
 favour right or wrong, they bless or blight, 
 not only the world in their own time, but in 
 all time coming.— For whom is it, sweet cou- 
 sin, that you intercede?'' 
 
 The Lady SibiUa was, as well as the Queen 
 and the Lady Katherine Douglas, some- 
 what dismayed by the altered manner of his 
 Majesty ; but, still affecting to make light of 
 the favour, she replied — 
 • « It is the old loyal chieftain that so kind- 
 ly treated me during the rebellion in Len- 
 ^lox." 
 
 "What! Glenfruin?" said the King. "The 
 accusation against him is heavy indeed.*" 
 
 The Lady Sibilla, perceiving his Majesty 
 was about to declare that, until the extent 
 of his guilt was investigated, he could not 
 give any promise, exclaimed hastily, and with 
 a sprightly tone, " I do not wish to Jiear of 
 what he stands accused; but grant me so 
 much grace on your royal promise, as to call 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 305 
 
 him before your Majesty in private before 
 he is put upon his trial ; for, poor man, he 
 hath not much of the art to set off liis plain 
 tale to any advantage." 
 
 His Majesty smiled, and assented that it 
 should be so. " Ah, thus it is," said he, 
 " that in their hours of ease princes do things 
 which, however pure in themselves, often 
 take the bearing of an ignoble partiality in 
 the eyes of the world. We need, however," 
 he added more gravely, " some little favour 
 from power to countervail the invidious mis- 
 representations of our affections. It is hard 
 to deny to us the practice of one of the best 
 virtues of other men,— the indulgence of kind 
 wishes towards those who, in our humbler 
 nature, have commended themselves to our 
 esteem." 
 
 The Lady Sibilla then recounted apart to 
 the ladies her adventure on the night of the 
 burning of Dumbarton; the main tale of 
 which she had told the Queen before, after 
 
306 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 her return to court from Glenfruin's castle,^ 
 and particularly of those things which had 
 moved her to allow Anniple to take her 
 place in the boat with the monk. These, 
 her Majesty had, in her turn, imperfectly 
 rehearsed to the King, not conceiving that, 
 by any chance, the matter should ever come 
 again into controversy. It happened, how- 
 ever, that, while the Lady Sibilla was then 
 telling what had befallen her, his Majes- 
 ty, remembering the complaint of the Prior, 
 by whom he had been induced to order the 
 summons for Glenfruin, inquired if she 
 knew the name of the monk that went in the 
 boat ; and when she answered " Mungo,'" he 
 exclaimed sudiienly — 
 
 " Why, that was the name of the holy 
 man of whose martyrdom I was obliged to 
 hear so much. Oh ! it is too true that kings 
 live in chambers with painted windows,— 
 the fair and true light rarely shines in upon 
 them. 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 307 
 
 CHAP. XXVII. 
 
 The appointed day being now come on which 
 the foundation-stone of the King's new abbey 
 was to be laid, pleasant it would be to depaint 
 the thronging, the marvelling, and the ming- 
 ling of all sorts of people together in Perth 
 that morning, and to rehearse how wards 
 were set around the town to keep out the 
 Highlanders, who in latter times have so 
 meritoriously shown themselves worthy to 
 bear a part in the peaceful pageantries of 
 national gratulation ; — how the monks and 
 friars were all courtesie, in getting commodi- 
 ous places for tlieir friends, and how the 
 bailies and others of the city, and the guild ry 
 thereof, from time to time, got their wives and 
 daughters cannily slipped into the galleries set 
 
308 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 apart for ladies of pedigree. But puissant must 
 be the pen that would set down how, at the 
 hour of ceremony, the friars came forth 
 swinging their censers of burning incense, and 
 with lighted tapers, and banners, and images, 
 and shrines of relics, and all manner of pomps 
 ecclesiastical, followed by the gentle nuns, 
 prolonging like sweet echoes the harmonies 
 of their masculine anthems; and how, with 
 the sound of trumpets, and the drum's trium- 
 phal thunder, the knights and nobles, in 
 cloaks and mantles of velvet, came as har- 
 bingers to the King; and with what ritual 
 and mysteries of masonry the foundation-stone 
 was laid in its pbce. These things, however, 
 albeit of great moment, touching the prospe- 
 rity of the realm, must be overpassed, to 
 make room for what chanced on that day in 
 the matters and issue of this eventful history. 
 When the ceremonial was over, and all those 
 who had part therein were returned to their 
 respective places of abode in the town, the 
 
THE gPAEWIFE. 
 
 309 
 
 Earl of Athol and Stuart, who had accom- 
 panied the King back to the Abbey-palace of 
 Scone, retired towards the chambers set apart 
 for their entertainment ; and it chanced that, 
 in going along the cloister which led thereto, 
 Stuart followed the Earl quickly, as if to 
 speak with him of some matter wherewith his 
 mind was filled ; but when he was come with- 
 in two or three paces, he appeared to falter, 
 and the Earl looking back, and seeing who it 
 was by whom he had been no followed, in- 
 creased his pace, and hastened forward, as it 
 were to esc; t*w him. 
 
 The d' lety, however, that caused Stuart 
 at first to check his speed did not last long, 
 for he followed the Earl more briskly than 
 ever, and entered into a chamber with him, 
 where, as the old man untied the mantle that 
 he had worn in the pageant, Stuart said—- 
 
 " I was alarmed lest the show should 
 have been interrupted by some dreadful ac- 
 cident.*" 
 
 It] 
 
310 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 '« How !^ replied the Earl, " What was 
 there to cause such apprehension? Saw you 
 any thing to be afraid of?" 
 
 " I observed, that as the King strewed the 
 corn, wine, and oil upon the stone, you grew 
 very pale.'' 
 
 The Earl's colour again disappeared, and 
 his hand so shook that he rather entangled 
 than untied the knot he was endeavouring to 
 undo, — ^but he made no answer, while Stuart 
 continued with a little more confidence in his 
 manner— 
 
 " I saw that your eye was drawn towards 
 some one in the crowd." 
 
 " Think you," said the Earl eagerly, « that 
 it was remarked of me ?" 
 
 " It was," replied Stuart. 
 
 The emotion of the Earl on hearing this be- 
 came so manifest, that he sat down, having his 
 mantle still untied, and inquired, with an 
 anxious and alarmed voice, by whom he had 
 been observed. 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 311 
 
 « By one in the garb of a wild Highlander ; 
 his locks were shaggy, his beard untrimmed, 
 and his clothes were made up, seemingly, of 
 divers rags, the cast weeds of several beggars, 
 they were so preposterously wi-etched : he 
 was apparelled as one might be that hath some 
 flaw in his wit, and yet was he plainly not of 
 that nature, for his eye was sharp and steady, 
 and lighted up with a spirit full of menace 
 and invention."" 
 
 " It was not safe that a creature so fierce 
 and fantastical should have had leave to be 
 where he was," said the Earl. 
 
 " Did you not, my Lord, then know him?'' 
 replied Stuart. But, instead of answering the 
 question, the Earl said thoughtfully— 
 
 " Think you that he was noticed by the 
 King, or by any of those who were immediate- 
 ly around his Majesty ? I once or twice ob- 
 served the eyes of the Chancellor turned to 
 that side." 
 
 What signifies it if he did look ; how 
 
 II 
 
 i( 
 
 xe 
 
312 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 should he discover him if your Lordship 
 could not, who are privy to his purpose T 
 
 " To what purpose ?" exclmmed the Earl 
 with a voice of terror ; « to what purpose?" 
 and he rose hastily and walked with hurried 
 steps and perturbed gestures several times 
 to and fro in the chamber. Suddenly he ap- 
 peared to become calm, and going to Stuart, 
 he said with a solemn voice, in which there 
 was much sadness— 
 
 " I charge you^ as you dread my displea- 
 sure and the King's power, never to speak 
 with him touching the rights of which I was 
 defrauded ; for he is so maddened by the sense 
 of his own wrongs, and hath such a tongue to 
 make the bad appear the better purpose, that 
 out of the despite which we have ourselves 
 borne, he may deduce reasons that shall en- 
 tice you into great peril." 
 
 " My Lord, of whom do you speak ?'' re- 
 plied Stuart, with well-feigned simplicity and 
 wonderment " 
 
 1 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 313 
 
 ?" 
 
 .The Earl wrung his hands rapidly, breath- 
 ed quickly, and looking round hastily, 
 cried,— 
 
 " I will have nothing to do with your in- 
 tents. I know not of what you speak. I 
 pray to Heaven that what I fear may be but 
 a phantasm." 
 
 " I thought you knew not that it was Sir 
 Robert Graeme r said Stuart, still calmly and 
 with a searching look. 
 
 The mention of the name was like a spell, 
 and the Earl, who had been so heady, rash, 
 and distempered in his manner, became at 
 once serene and collected, saying,— 
 
 " He has been too hardly dealt with, and 
 adversity, like a cruel rust, has defaced the 
 original brightness of his character. But such 
 woful change is not rare; I have known 
 other men, as well as poor Sir Robert Gr^me, 
 whom Heaven had intended for high pur- 
 poses, but fortune and irresponsible accident 
 so transmuted the gold of their nature into 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
314 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 iron, that at their exit from the scene of 
 this mortal theatre, instead of being honoured 
 with the peals and plaudits of admiration, 
 they have been followed by of n and hissing, 
 and their names loaded with all manner of 
 contumely, so basely, according to the judg- 
 ment of men, did they fail in the performance 
 of their part, and that too from nothing seem- 
 ingly in circumstance, but altogether from 
 the meanness — I would say the malice, of 
 their motiveless endeavours." 
 
 '' And shoald honest men stand by and 
 see spirits of such nobility crushed and cast 
 away ?" said Stuari somewhat abashed by 
 the vehemence of the Earl's declamation. " I 
 could not refrain from saying to myself, when 
 I saw the mournful plight to which Graeme 
 was reduced, — Alas ! how wofuUy hath ad- 
 versity degraded the image of God in that 
 brave man.'"* 
 
 " Hush,"" replied the Earl ; " we must not 
 
 give such license to our tongues ; the same 
 
 4 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 315 
 
 merciless justice that haunts him down may 
 be set on us.'^ 
 
 " You are watched already," said a dread- 
 ful voice. • i>' • 
 
 Stuart drew his sword, and the Earl looked 
 like a distracted man — but a loud lauffh soon 
 relieved their consternation. 
 
 It was Sir Robert Grajme, who had, by 
 tampering with one of the EarPs servants, 
 by all of whom he was much pitied, ob- 
 tained admission into the chamber, and stood 
 concealed within the arras, waiting the Earl's 
 return. 
 
 " My Lord," said Graeme, advancing in 
 the pride of his might and mastery. 
 
 The Earl slirunk away, exclaiming, — 
 
 " Avaunt ! fiend ! demon ! tempt me no 
 more ! I will not be again tempted, remorse- 
 less and tremendous homicide !"" 
 
 Graeme looked round to Stuart with a 
 smile so gaunt, hideous, and triumphant, 
 that he too was shaken and overawed— 
 
316 
 
 THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 and then he again addressed the Earl, say- 
 
 ing/ 
 
 " My Lord, when I had but the hill for 
 my hall, the stars tor candles, and the snow 
 for a blanket ; when but the rain, and the hail, 
 and the sleet, were my visitors,— hunger my 
 guest, — and, night after night, I heard but 
 the minstrelsy of the tuneless wind, and Re- 
 venge roaring from all the waters of the 
 Tummel, the Garry, and the Tay, I swore— 
 not to Heaven, my Lord — that I would 
 have ^" 
 
 " I know, I know, all that you would say," 
 cried the Earl, sinking into his seat. 
 
 " And this day," resumed Graeme, " I had 
 quenched the thirst of my dirk ; but he was 
 so fenced beyond my reach. Now this you 
 shall do for me ."" 
 
 " Nothing, nothing, nothing !" exclaimed 
 the Earl, rushing wildly towards the door. 
 Graeme drew him back. 
 
 " This passion is in part feigned,'" said the 
 
THE SPAEWIFE. 
 
 317 
 
 traitor sarcastically. " My Lord, be still, be 
 calm, you are in my power /^ 
 
 " Have you no ruth of manhood in you ?'' 
 cried the Earl to Stuart, " that you will not 
 help me from the fangs of this fiend ?''"' 
 
 " I fear,'' said Stuart to Graeme, " that 
 we have thought him more with us than he is." 
 
 The traitor paused, and eyed the Earl 
 with a stern and questioning eye, and then 
 said, " With us, or not with us, he shall be 
 with us. But he is so already. My Lord, 
 all we ask of you is, neither to see nor to 
 heai", and you will soon be Regent of Scot- 
 land, then make yourself King if you will." 
 
 For a moment the Earl paused, and look- 
 ed alternately at Stuart and Gr.rme ; then he 
 walked slowly towards his chair, and said, as 
 he sat down, '* This is fate, be it as you will. 
 Thou hast, O Heaven ! beheld my inward 
 agonies, ever since the fiend laid his burning 
 hand uptm me, and thou hast been deaf unto 
 my prayers." 
 
318 
 
 TirK SPAEWIFK. 
 
 ** You limy save yourself still,"''' said Gra'nie 
 conteinptuously, — " by jilarmiiij*' the Abbey. 
 But, my Lord, now that we* have launehttd 
 t)urselves in the same enterjirise, let there 
 henceforth be no more taunts between us — 
 call me no longer devil — and I shall not for- 
 get the courtesy due to one that is hereafter 
 to be a King/" 
 
 *' How got you into this apartment ?"''' said 
 Stuai*t, anxious to break in upon the strain of 
 their discourse. 
 
 '* Nay, rather ask how I am to get out,*" 
 exclaimed the traitor ; for at that moment a 
 rapid and sudden noise, with the clank of arms, 
 was heard approaching in the cloister, and 
 then an officer, with several soldiers, came 
 rushing into the room. 
 
 END OF VOLUME II. 
 
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