0^4^. 
 
\ 
 
 FROM -THE- LIBRARY- OF- 
 A. 'V. Ryder 
 
 Ss 
 
 iH 
 
 
 
 i» 
 
 !' 
 
 
 d 
 
I 
 
Illustrated Sterling edition 
 
 THE ABBOT 
 
 KENILWORTH 
 
 BY 
 SIR WALTER SCOTT, BART. 
 
 BOSTON 
 DANA ESTES & COMPANY 
 
 PUBLISHERS 
 
r. 
 
 '■iC 
 
 ^.^^^ U.Vo 
 
 ,.::,A^:VXJ . ^u^^ 
 
 ^1" 
 
 • •••-•« • 
 
 • • • «, • • • 
 • • • • •• 
 
 

 te4 
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 THE ABBOT 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Roland at Langs ide Frontispiece 
 
 " ' Roland, go kiss the hand of the noble knight '" . 27 
 '• The appearance of the crowd was grotesque in 
 
 the extreme" 117 
 
 " ' A Seyton ! A Seyton 1 Set on I Set on ! ' " . . 152 
 
 "'Is THIS THE JACKANAPE PAGE FOR WHOM WE HAVE 
 
 WAITED THUS LONG?'" . 201 
 
 KENILWORTH 
 
 "The blow was arrested by the gra%p; ^y MickAEL,^ - V 
 
 Lambourne" '."*.'. . ' 40 
 
 The Farrier's Cavern . . . ? , ' . p* V * -J ,,\;1^4; 
 "The gallant, throwing his cloak FftoM' iiis' shoul-' ' 
 
 ders, laid it on the miry spot " . . . . 163 
 "'What may your ladyship please to lack?* said 
 
 Wayland" . .232 
 
 " < Men say,' thus ran his thoughts . . . < that i might 
 
 marry Elizabeth'" , . . • . . . 242 
 
 M29082 
 
^i 
 
INTRODUCTION TO THE ABBOT 
 
 From what is said in the Introduction to the Monastery, it 
 must necessarily be inferred that the Author considered 
 that romance as something very like a failure. It is true, 
 the booksellers did not complain of the sale, because, unless 
 on very felicitous occasions, or on those which are equally 
 the reverse, literary popularity is not gained or lost by a 
 single publication. Leisure must be allowed for the tide 
 both to flow and ebb. But I was conscious that, in my sit- 
 uation, not to advance was in some degree to recede, and 
 being naturally unwilling to think that the principle of 
 decay lay in myself, I was at least desirous to know of a 
 certainty whether the degree of discountenance which I had 
 incurred was now owing to an ill-managed story or an ill- 
 chosen subject. 
 
 1 was never, I confess, one of those who are willing to 
 suppose the brains of an author to be a kind of milk, which 
 will not stand above a single creaming, and who are eter- 
 nally harping to young authors to husband their efforts, and 
 to be chary of their reputation, lest it grow hackneyed in 
 the eyes of men. Perhaps I was, and have always been, the 
 more indifferent to the degree of estim^.tfe'i'ir. whic-ii'l 
 might be held as an author because I did' hbt'put'so higli a 
 value as many others upon what is termed lit(jr'ary repata-^ 
 tion in the abstract, or at least upon the' specie^s of J)opu- 
 larity which had fallen to my share ; for though it were 
 worse than affectation to deny that my vanity was satisfied 
 at my success in the department in which chance had in 
 some measure enlisted me, I was, nevertheless, far from 
 thinking that the novelist or romance-writer stands high in 
 the ranks of literature. But I spare the reader farther 
 egotism on this subject, as I have expressed my opinion 
 very fully in the Introductory Epistle to the Fortunes of 
 Nigel, and, although it be composed in an imaginary char- 
 acter, it is as sincere and candid as if it had been written 
 -' witl.out my gown and band." 
 
 In a word, when I considered myself as having been un- 
 iuooensfid iu the Monastery, I was tempted to try wheth^ 
 
«| WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 I could not restore, even at the risk of totally losing my so- 
 called reputation by a new hazard. I looked round my 
 library, and could not but observe that, from the time of 
 Chaucer to that of Byron, the most popular authors had 
 been the most prolific. Even the aristarch Johnson allowed 
 that the quality of readiness and profusion had a merit in 
 itself, independent of the intrinsic value of the composition. 
 Talking of Churchill, I believe, who had little merit in his 
 prejudiced eyes, he allowed him that of fertility, with some 
 such qualification as this — '^ A crab-apple can bear but crabs 
 after all ; but there is a great difference in favor of that 
 which hears a large quantity of fruit, however indifferent, 
 and that which produces only a few." 
 
 Looking more attentively at the patriarchs of literature, 
 whose career was as long as it was brilliant, I thought I 
 perceived that in the busy and prolonged course of exertion 
 there were no doubt occasional failures, but that still those 
 who were favorites of their age triumphed over these mis- 
 carriages. By the new efforts which they made, their errors 
 were obliterated, they became identified with the literature 
 of their country, and after having long received law from 
 the critics, came in some degree to impose it. And when 
 such a writer was at length called from the scene, his death 
 first made the public sensible what a large share he had oc- 
 cupied in their attention. I recollected a passage in 
 Grimm's Correspondence, that, while the unexhausted Vol- 
 taire sent forth t?apt after tract, to the very close of a long 
 'lif^ the 'firsi ♦ijrfiJ)r6ssion made by each as it appeared was 
 tblat it tVEts iliferior to its predecessor — an opinion adopted 
 frOijl'the 'general 4dea*. that the Patriarch of Ferney must at 
 laat'Biid' the* point*, f i?o*m which he was to decline. But the 
 opinion of the public finally ranked in succession the last of 
 Voltaire's £^88ays c n the same footing with those which had 
 formerly charmed the French nation. The inference from 
 this and similar facts seemed to me to be that new works 
 were often judged of by the public, not so much from their 
 own intrinsic merit, as from extrinsic ideas which readers 
 had previously formed with regard to them, and over which 
 a writer might hope to triumph by patience and by exertion. 
 There is a risk in the attempt : 
 
 If he fall in, good-night, or sink or swim. 
 
 But this is a chance incident to every literary attempt, and 
 by which men of a sanguine temper are little moved. 
 
JNTB0DUC2I0N TO THE ABBOT y^i 
 
 I may illustrate what I mean by the feelings of most men 
 in travelling. If we have found any stage particularly 
 tedious or in an especial degree interesting, particularly 
 short or much longer than we expected, our imaginations 
 are so apt to exaggerate the original impression that, on 
 repeating the journey, we usually find that we have con- 
 siderably overrated the predominating quality, and the road 
 appears to be duller. or more pleasant, shorter or more tedi- 
 ous, than what we expected, and, consequently, than what 
 is the actual case. It requires a third or fourth journey to 
 enable us to form an accurate judgment of its beauty, its 
 length, or its other attributes. 
 
 In the same manner, the public, judging of a new work, 
 which it receives perhaps with little expectation, if sur- 
 prised into applause, becomes very often ecstatic, gives a 
 great deal more approbation than is due, and elevates the 
 child of its immediate favor to a rank which, as it affects the 
 author, it is equally difficult to keep and painful to lose. 
 If, on this occasion, the author trembles at the height to 
 which he is raised, and becomes afraid of the shadow of his 
 own renown, he may indeed retire from the lottery 
 with the prize which he has drawn, but, in future 
 ages, his honor will be only in proportion to his labors. If, 
 on the contrary, he rushes again into the lists, he is sure to 
 be judged with severity proportioned to the former favor of 
 the public. If he be daunted by a bad reception on this 
 second occasion, he may again become a stranger to the 
 arena. If, on the contrary, he can keep his ground, and 
 stand the shuttlecock's fate, of being struck up and down, 
 he will probably, at length, hold with some certainty the 
 level in public opinion which he may be found to deserve ; 
 and he may perhaps boast of arresting the general attention, 
 in the same manner as the Bachelor Samson Carrasco of 
 fixing the weathercock La Giralda of Seville for weeks, 
 months, or years, that is, for as long as the wind shall uni- 
 formly blow from one quarter. To this degree of popularity 
 the Author had the hardihood to aspire, while, in order to 
 attain it, he assumed the daring resolution to keep himself in 
 the view of the public by frequent appearances before them. 
 
 It must be added, that the Author's incognito gave him 
 the greater courage to renew his attempts to please the 
 .public, and an advantage similar to that which Jack the 
 O-iant-killer received from his coat of darkness. In sending 
 the Abbot forth so soon after the Monastery, he had used 
 the well-known practise recommended by Bassanio : 
 
rUi WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 In my school-days, when I had lost one shaft, 
 I shot another of the self-same flight, 
 The self -same way, with more advised watch. 
 To find the other forth. 
 
 And, to continue the simile, his shafts, like those of the 
 Lesser Ajax, were discharged more readily that the archer 
 was as inaccessible to criticism, personally speaking, as the 
 Grecian archer under his brother's sevenfold shield. 
 
 Should the reader desire to know upon what principles 
 the Abbot was expected to amend the fortune of the 3/on- 
 astery, I have first to request his attention to the Introduc- 
 tory Epistle addressed to the imaginary Captain Clutterbuck 
 — a mode by which, like his predecessors in this walk of 
 fiction, the real Author makes one of his dramatis personam 
 the means of communicating his own sentiments to the 
 public, somewhat more artificially than by a direct address 
 to the readers. A pleasing French writer of fairy tales. 
 Monsieur Pajon, author of the History of Prince Soly, has 
 set a diverting example of the same machinery, where he 
 introduces the presiding Genius of the land of Eomance 
 conversing with one of the personages of the tale. 
 
 In this Introductory Epistle, the Author communicates, 
 in confidence, to Captain Clutterbuck his sense that the 
 White Lady had not met the taste of the times, and his 
 reason for withdrawing her from the scene. The Author 
 did not deem it equally necessary to be candid respecting 
 another alteration. The Monastery was designed, at first, 
 to have contained some supernatural agency, arising out of 
 the fact that Melrose had been the place of deposit of the 
 great Kobert Bruce's heart. The writer shrunk, however, 
 from filling up, in this particular, the sketch as it was orig- 
 inally traced ; nor did he venture to resume, in the con- 
 tinuation, the subject which he had left unattempted in the 
 original work. Thus, the incident of the discovery of the 
 heart, which occupies the greater part of the Introduction 
 to the Monastery^ is a mystery unnecessarily introduced, 
 and which remains at last very imperfectly explained. In 
 this particular, I was happy to shroud myself by the example 
 of the author of Caleb Williams, who never condescends to 
 inform us of the actual contents of that iron chest which 
 makes such a figure in his interesting work, and gives the 
 name to Mr. Colman's drama. 
 
 The public had some claim to inquire into this matter, 
 but it seemed indifferent policy in the Author to give the 
 explanation. For, whatever praise may be due to the Ip- 
 
INTSODtTCTiON tO T^S ABBOT im 
 
 gennity which brings to a general combination all the loose 
 threads of a narrative, like the knitter at the finishing of her 
 stocking, I am greatly deceived if in many cases a superior 
 advantage is not attained by the air of reality which the 
 deficiency of explanation attaches to a work written on a 
 different system. In life itself, many things befall every 
 mortal of which the individual never knows the real cause 
 or origin : and were we to point out the most marked dis- 
 tinction between a real and a fictitious narrative, we would 
 say, that the former, in reference to the remote causes of 
 the events it relates, is obscure, doubtful, and mysterious ; 
 wherieas, in the latter case, it is a part of the author's duty 
 to afford satisfactory details upon the causes of the separate 
 events he has recorded, and, in a word, to account for every- 
 thing. The reader, like Mungo in the Padlock^ will not 
 be satisfied with hearing what he is not made fully to com- 
 prehend. 
 
 I omitted, therefore, in the Introduction to the Ahhoty 
 any attempt to explain the previous story or to apologize 
 for unintelligibility. 
 
 Neither would it have been prudent to have endeavored 
 to proclaim, in the Introduction to the Abbot, the real 
 spring by which I hoped it might attract a greater degree 
 of interest than its immediate predecessor. A taking title, 
 or the announcement of a popular subject, is a recipe for 
 success much in favor with booksellers, but which authors 
 will not always find efficacious. The cause is worth a 
 moment's examination. 
 
 There occur in every country some peculiar historical 
 characters, which are, like a spell or a charm, sovereign to 
 excite curiosity and attract attention, since every one in the 
 slightest degree interested in the land which they belong 
 to has heard much of them, and longs to hear more. A 
 tale turning on the fortunes of Alfred or Elizabeth in Eng« 
 land, or Wallace or Bruce in Scotland, is sure by the very 
 announcement to excite public curiosity to a considerable 
 degree and ensure the publisher's being relieved of the 
 greater part of an impression, even before the contents of 
 the work are known. This is of the last importance to the 
 bookseller, who is at once to use a technical phrase, 
 "brought home,'* all his outlay being repaid. But it is a 
 different case with the author, since it cannot be denied 
 that we are apt to feel least satisfied with the works of 
 which we have been induced, by titles and laudatory adver- 
 tisements, to entertain exaggerated expectation. The in' 
 
WAVEULEY NOVELS 
 
 fcention of the work has been anticipated, and misconceiyed 
 
 or misrepresented, and although the difficulty of executing 
 the work again reminds us of Hotspur's task of ** o'erwalk- 
 ing a current roaring loud,*' yet the adventurer must look 
 for more ridicule if he fails than applause if he executes 
 his undertaking. 
 
 Notwithstanding a risk which should make authors pause 
 ere they adopt a theme which, exciting general interest and 
 curiosity, is often the preparative for disappointment, yet 
 it would be an injudicious regulation which should deter 
 the poet or painter from attempting to introduce historical 
 portraits merely from the difficulty of executing the task in 
 a satisfactory manner. Something must be trusted to the 
 generous impulse, which often thrusts an artist upon feats 
 of which he knows the difficulty, while he trusts courage 
 and exertion may afford the means of surmounting it. 
 
 It is especially when he is sensible of losing ground with 
 the public that an author may be justified in using with 
 address such selection of subject or title as is most likely to 
 procure a rehearing. It was with these feelings of hope 
 and apprehension that I ventured to awaken, in a work of 
 fiction, the memory of Queen Mary, so interesting by her 
 wit, her beauty, her misfortunes, and the mystery which 
 still does, and probably always will, overhang her history. 
 In doing so, I was aware that failure would be a conclusive 
 disaster, so that my task was something like that of an en- 
 chanter who raises a spirit over whom he is uncertain of 
 possessing an effectual control ; and I naturally paid atten- 
 tion to such principles of composition as I conceived were 
 best suited to the historical novel. 
 
 Enough has been already said to explain the purpose of 
 composing the Abbot. The historical references are, as 
 usual, explained in the notes. That which relates to Queen 
 Mary's escape from Lochleven Castle is a more minute ac- 
 count of that romantic adventure than is to be found in th^ 
 histories of the period. 
 
 Abbotsford. \st January, 1881. 
 
INTEODUCTORY EPISTLE 
 
 FROM 
 
 THE AUTHOR OF WA VERLEY 
 
 TO 
 
 CAPTAIN CLUTTERBUCK, 
 Of His Majesty's Regiment of Infantry 
 
 Dear Captaik — 
 
 I am sorry to observe, by your last favor, that you dis- 
 approve of the numerous retrenchments and alterations 
 which I have been under the necessity of making on the 
 Manuscript of your friend, the Benedictine, and I willingly 
 make you the medium of apology to many who have 
 honored me more than I deserve. 
 
 I admit that my retrenchments have been numerous, 
 and leave gaps in the story, which, in your original manu- 
 script, would have run well-nigh to a fourth volume, as my 
 printer assures me. I am sensible besides, that, in conse- 
 quence of the liberty of curtailment you have allowed me, 
 some parts of the story have been huddled up without 
 the necessary details. But, after all, it is better that the 
 travelers should have to step over a ditch than to wade 
 through a morass : that the reader should have to suppose 
 what may easily be inferred than be obliged to creep 
 through pages of dull explanation. I have struck out, for ex- 
 ample, the whole machinery of the White Lady, and the 
 poetry by which it is so ably-supported in the original manu- 
 script. But you must allow that the public taste gives little en- 
 couragement to those legendary superstitions which formed 
 alternately the delight and the terror of our predecessors. 
 In like manner, much is omitted illustrative of the impulse 
 of enthusiasm in favor of the ancient religion in Mother 
 Magdalen and the abbot. But we do not feel deep sym- 
 pathy at this period with what was once the most power- 
 ful and animating principle in Europe, with the exception 
 
 xi 
 
xii 
 
 W.AVEELET NOVELS 
 
 of that of the Keformation, by which it was successfully 
 opposed. 
 
 You rightly observe that these retrenchments have rendered 
 the title no longer applicable to the subject, and that some 
 other would have been more suitable to the work in its 
 present state than that of the abbot, who made so much 
 greater figure in the original, and for whom your friend, 
 the Benedictine, seems to have inspired you with a sym- 
 pathetic respect. I must plead guilty to this accusation, 
 observing, at the same time, in manner of extenuation, that 
 though the objection might have been easily removed by 
 giving a new title to the work, yet, in doing so, I should 
 have destroyed the necessary cohesion between the present 
 history and its predecessor the Monastery, which I was un- 
 willing to do, as the period and several of the personages 
 were the same. 
 
 After all, my good friend, it is of little consequence 
 what the work is called, or on what interest it turns, provided 
 it catches the public attention ; for the quality of the wine, 
 could we but insure it, may according to the old proverb, 
 render the bush unnecessary or of little consequence. 
 
 I congratulate you upon your having found it consistent 
 with prudence to establish your tilbury, and approve of the 
 color, and of your boy's livery (subdued green and pink). 
 As you talk of completing your descriptive poem on the 
 Huins of Kennaquhair, with Notes by an Antiquary, I hope 
 you have procured a steady horse. 
 
 I remain, with compliments to all friends, dear Captain, 
 Tery much 
 
 Yours, etc. etc. etc., 
 
 The Author of Waverley. 
 
TH E ABBOT 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 Do*num mansit, lanam fedt 
 
 Ancient Roman Epitaph. 
 Sho keepit close the hous, and birlit at the quhele. 
 
 Gawain Douglas. 
 
 The time which passes over our heads so imperceptibly 
 makes the same gradual change in habits, manners, and 
 character as in personal appearance. At the revolution of 
 every five years we find ourselves another, and yet the same : 
 there is a change of views, and no less of the light in which 
 we regard them, a change of motives as well as of actions. 
 Nearly twice that space had glided away over the head of 
 Halbert Glendinning and his lady betwixt the period of our 
 former narrative, in which they played a distinguished part, 
 and the date at which our present tale commences. 
 
 Two circumstances only had embittered their union, 
 which was otherwise as happy as mutual affection could 
 render it. The first of these was indeed the common calam- 
 ity of Scotland, being the distracted state of that unhappy 
 country, where every man's sword was directed against his 
 neighbor's bosom. Glendinning had proved what Murray 
 expected of him, a steady friend, strong in battle and wise 
 m council, adhering to him, from motives of gratitude in 
 situations where by his own unbiassed will he would either 
 have stood neuter or have joined the opposite party. Hence 
 when danger was near— and it was seldom far distant— Sir 
 Halbert Glendinning, for he now bore the rank of knight- 
 hood, was perpetually summoned to attend his patron on 
 distant expeditions, or on perilous enterprises, or to assist 
 him with his counsel in the doubtful intrigues of a half 
 barbarous court. He was thus frequently, and for a long; 
 space, absent from his castle and from his lady ; and to this 
 ground of regret we mast add, that their union had not been 
 blessed with children, to occupy the attention of the Lady 
 of Avenel while she was thus deprived of her husband't 
 domestic society. 
 
\ 
 
 \ 
 
 WAVEBLET NOVELS 
 
 On such occasiorHs she lived almost entirely secluded from 
 the world, within tl.ie walls of her paternal mansion. Visit- 
 ing amongst neighbo^f s was a matter entirely out of the 
 question, unless on occiasionsof solemn festival, and then 
 it was chiefly confined to .^^lear kindred. Of these the Lady 
 of Avenel had none who b survived, and the dames of the 
 neighboring barons affected t07 regard her less as the heiress 
 of the house of Avenel than ab> the wife of a peasant, the 
 son of a church-vassal, raised up t.^^ mushroom eminence by 
 the capricious favor of Murray. -n^^ 
 
 This pride of ancestry, which ranklea^ in the bosom of the 
 ancient gentry, was more openly expresse(i"^o by ^^^^^ ladies, 
 and was, moreover, embittered not a little C^J the political 
 feuds of the time, for most of the Southron^^^^ chiefs were 
 friends to the authority of the Queen, and ver}>' jealous of 
 the power of Murray. The Castle of Avenel was, therefore, 
 on all these accounts, as melancholy and solitary a i Residence 
 for its lady as could well be imagined. Still it had thv^p essen- 
 tial recommendation of great security. The reader is already 
 aware that the fortress was built upon an islet in a ^^mall 
 lake, and was only accessible by a causeway, intersected d by 
 a double ditch, defended by two drawbridges, so that, Wx^^th- 
 out artillery, it might in those days be considered as i.^m- 
 pregnable. It was only necessary, therefore, to secuJ^^e 
 against surprise, and the service of six able men within thv(ie 
 castle was sufficient for that purpose. If more seriou-j^s 
 danger threatened, an ample garrison was supplied by the * 
 male inhabitants of a little hamlet which, under the aus-, 
 pices of Halbert Glendinning, had arisen on a small piece of 
 level ground, betwixt the lake and the hill, nearly adjoining . 
 to the spot where the causeway joined the mainland. The 
 Lord of Avenel had found it an easy matter to procure in- 
 habitants, as he was not only a kind and beneficent over- 
 lord, but well qualified, both by his experience in arms, his 
 high character for wisdom and integrity, and his favor with 
 the powerful Earl of Murray, to protect and defend those 
 who dwelt under his banner. In leaving his castle for any 
 length of time, he had, therefore, the consolation to reflect 
 that this village afforded, on the slightest notice, a band of 
 thirty stout men, which was more than sufficient for its 
 defense ; while the families of the villagers, as was usual on 
 such occasions, fled to the recesses of the mountains, drove 
 their cattle to the same places of shelter, and left the enemy 
 to work their will on their miserable cottages. 
 
 One guest only resided generally, if not constantly, at / 
 
THE ABBOT 8 
 
 the Castle of Avenel. This was Henry "Warden, who now 
 felt himself less able for the stormy task imposed on the 
 Reforming clergy ; and having by his zeal given personal 
 offense to many of the leading nobles and chiefs, did not 
 consider himself as perfectly safe unless when within the 
 walls of the strong mansion of some assured friend. He 
 ceased not, however, to serve his cause as eagerly with his 
 pen as he had formerly done with his tongue, and had en- 
 gaged in a furious and acrimonious contest concerning the 
 sacrifice of the mass, as it was termed, with the Abbot 
 Eustatius, formerly the sub-prior of Kennaquhair. Answers, 
 replies, duplies, triplies, quadruplies followed thick upon 
 each other, and displayed, as is not unusual in controversy, 
 fully as much zeal as Christian charity. The disputation 
 very soon became as celebrated as that of John Knox and 
 the Abbot of Crossraguel, raged nearly as fiercely, and, for 
 aught I know, the publications to which it gave rise may be 
 as precious in the eyes of bibliographers.* But the engross- 
 ing nature of his occupation rendered the theologian not 
 the most interesting companion for a solitary female ; and 
 his grave, stern, and absorbed deportment, which seldom 
 showed any interest except in that which concerned his 
 religious profession, made his presence rather add to than 
 diminish the gloom which hung over the Castle of Avenel. 
 To superintend the tasks of numerous female domestics was 
 the principal part of the lady's daily employment; her 
 epindle and distaff, her Bible, and a solitary walk upon the 
 battlements of the castle, or upon the causeway, or occa- 
 sionally, but more seldom, upon the banks of the little lake, 
 consumed the rest of the day. But so great was the inse- 
 curity of the period that, when she ventured to extend her 
 walk beyond the hamlet, the warder on the watch-tower 
 was directed to keep a sharp lookout in every direction, and 
 four or five men held themselves in readiness to mount and 
 sally forth from the castle on the slightest appearance of 
 alarm. 
 
 Thus stood affairs at the castle, when, after an absence of 
 several weeks, the Knight of Avenel, which was now the 
 title most frequently given to Sir Halbert Glendinning, was 
 daily expected to return home. Day after day, however, 
 passed away, and he returned not. Letters in those days 
 
 * The tracts which appeared in the disputation between the 
 Scottish Reformer and Quentin Kennedy, Abbot of Crossraguel, 
 are among the scarcest iu Sgottish bibliography. See M'Crie's Xt/« 
 0/ Knox, p. 2Q& 
 
i WAVEBLEY NOVELS 
 
 were rarely written, and the knight must have resorted to a 
 secretary to express his intentions in that manner ; besides, 
 intercourse of all kinds was precarious and unsafe, and no 
 man cared to give any public intimation of the time and 
 direction of a journey, since, if his route were publicly 
 known, it was always likely he might, in that case meet 
 with more enemies than friends upon the road. The precise 
 day, therefore, of Sir Halbert's return was not fixed, but 
 that which his lady's fond expectation had calculated upon 
 in her own mind had long since passed, and hope delayed 
 began to make the heart sick. 
 
 It was upon the evening of a sultry summer's day, when 
 the sun was half -sunk behind the distant western mountains 
 of Liddesdale, that the lady took her solitary walk on the 
 battlements of a range of buildings, which formed the front 
 of the castle, where a flat roof of flagstones presented a 
 broad and convenient promenade. The level suriace of the 
 lake, undisturbed except by the occasional dipping of a teal- 
 duck or coot, was gilded with the beams of the setting 
 luminary, and reflected, as if in a golden mirror, the hills 
 amongst which it lay embosomed. The scene, otherwise so 
 lonely, was occasionally enlivened by the voices of the chil- 
 dren in the village, which, softened by distance, reached 
 the ear of the lady in her solitary walk, or by the distant 
 call of the herdsman, as he guided his cattle from the glen 
 in which they had pastured all day, to place them in greater 
 security for the night in the immediate vicinity of the village. 
 The deep lowing of the cows seemed to demand the attend- 
 ance of the milk-maidens, who, singing shrilly and merrily, 
 strolled forth, each with her pail on her head, to attend to 
 the duty of the evening. The Lady of Avenel looked and 
 listened ; the sounds which she heard reminded her of 
 former days, when her most important employment, as well 
 as her greatest delight, was to assist Dame Glendinning and 
 Tibb Tacket in milking the cows at Glendearg. The 
 thought was fraught with melancholy. 
 
 " Why was I not," she said, " the peasant girl which in all 
 men's eyes I seemed to be ! Halbert and I had then spent 
 our life peacefully in his native glen, undisturbed by the 
 phantoms either of fear or ambition. His greatest pride 
 had then been to show the fairest herd in the halidome ; his 
 
 greatest danger to repel some pilfering snatcher from the 
 order ; and the utmost distance which would have divided 
 us would have been the chase of some out-lying deer. But. 
 ftlas ! what avails the blood which Halbert has shed, and 
 
THE ABBOT 5 
 
 the dangers which he encounters, to support a name and 
 rank, dear to him because he has it from me, but which we 
 shall never transmit to our posterity ? With me the name 
 of Avenel must expire." 
 
 She sighed as these reflections arose, and, looking towards 
 the shore of the lake, her eye was attracted by a group of 
 children of various ages, assembled to see a little ship, con- 
 structed by some village artist, perform its first voyage on 
 the water. It was launched amid the shouts of tiny voices 
 and the clapping of little hands, and shot bravely forth on 
 its voyage with a favoring wind, which promised to carry it 
 to the other side of the lake. Some of the bigger boys ran 
 round to receive and secure it on the farther shore, trying 
 their speed against each other as they sprang like young 
 fawns along the shingly verge of the lake. The rest, for 
 whom such a journey seemed too arduous, remained watch- 
 ing the motions of the fairy vessel from the spot where it 
 had been launched. The sight of their sports pressed on 
 the mind of the childless Lady of Avenel. 
 
 <« Why are none of these prattlers mine ? " she continued, 
 pursuing the tenor of her melancholy reflections. *^ Their 
 parents can scarce find them the coarsest food ; and I, who 
 could nurse them in plenty — I am doomed never to hear a 
 child call me mother ! ^' 
 
 The thought sunk on her heart with a bitterness which 
 resembled envy, so deeply is the desire of offspring im- 
 planted in the female breast. She pressed her hands to- 
 gether as if she were wringing them in the extremity of her 
 desolate feeling, as one whom Heaven had written childless. 
 A large staghound of the greyhound species approached at 
 this moment, and, attracted perhaps by the gesture, licked 
 her hands and pressed his large head against them. He 
 obtained the desired caress in return, but still the sad im- 
 pression remained. 
 
 " Wolf,"' she said, as if the animal could have understood 
 her complaints, " thou art a noble and beautiful animal ; 
 but, alas ! the love and affection that I long to bestow is of 
 a quality higher than can fall to thy share, though I love 
 thee much." 
 
 And, as if she were apologizing to Wolf for withholding 
 from him any part of her regard, she caressed his proud 
 head and crest, while, looking in her eyes, he seemed to ask 
 her what she wanted, or what he could do to show his at- 
 tachment. At this moment a shriek of distress was heard 
 on the shore, from the playful group which had been lately 
 
6 WAVE RLE Y NOVELS 
 
 SO jovial. The lady locked, and saw the cause with great 
 agony. 
 
 The little ship, the object of the children's delighted at- 
 tention, had struck among some tufts of the plant which 
 bears the water-lily, that marked a shoal in the lake about 
 an arrow-flight from the shore. A hardy little boy, who had 
 taken the lead in the race round the margin of the lake, did 
 not hesitate a moment to strip off his '^ wylie-coat," plunge 
 into the water, and swim towards the object of their com- 
 mon solicitude. The first movement of the lady was to call 
 for help ; but she observed that the boy swam strongly and 
 fearlessly, and as she saw that one or two villagers, who were 
 distant spectators of the incident, seemed to give themselves 
 no uneasiness on his account, she supposed that he was ac- 
 customed to the exercise, and that there was no danger. 
 But whether, in swimming, the boy had struck his breast 
 against a sunken rock, or whether he was suddenly taken 
 with cramp, or whether he had over-calculated his own 
 strength , it so happened that, when he had disembarrassed 
 the little plaything from the flags in which it was entangled 
 and sent it forward on its course, he had scarce swam a few 
 yards in his way to the shore, when he raised himself sud- 
 denly from the water and screamed aloud, clapping his 
 hands at the same time with an expression of fear and 
 pain. 
 
 The Lady of Avenel, instantly taking the alarm, called 
 hastily to the attendants to get the boat ready. But this 
 was en affair of some time. The only boat permitted to be 
 used on the lake was moored within the second cut which 
 intersected the canal, and it was several minutes ere it could 
 be unmoored and got under way. Meantime, the Lady of 
 Avenel, with agonizing anxiety, saw that the efforts which 
 the poor boy made to keep himself afloat were now exchanged 
 for a faint struggling, which would soon have been over,but 
 for aid equally prompt and unhoped-for. Wolf, who, like 
 some of that large species of greyhound, was a practised 
 water-dog, had marked the object of her anxiety, and, quit- 
 ting his mistress's side, had sought the nearest point from 
 which he could with safety plunge into the lake. With the 
 wonderful instinct which these noble animals have so often 
 displayed in the like circumstances, he swam straight to the 
 spot where his assistance was so much wanted, and seizing 
 the child's under-dress in his mouth, he not only kept him 
 afloat, but towed him towards the causeway. The boat, 
 having put off with a couple of men, met the dog half-way, 
 
THE ABBOT 7 
 
 and relieved him of his burden. They landed on the cause- 
 way, close by the gate of the castle, with their yet lifeless 
 charge, and were there met by the Lady of Avenel, attended 
 by one or two of her maidens, eagerly waiting to administer 
 assistance to the sufferer. 
 
 He was borne into the castle, deposited upon a bed, and 
 every mode of recovery resorted to which the knowledge of 
 the times, and the skill of Henry Warden, who professed 
 some medical science, could dictate. For some time it was 
 all in vain, and the lady watched with unspeakable earnest- 
 ness the pallid countenance of the beautiful child. He 
 seemed about ten years old. His dress was of the meanest 
 sort ; but his long curled hair, and the noble cast of his 
 features, partook not of that poverty of appearance. The 
 proudest noble in Scotland might nave been yet prouder 
 could he have called that child his heir. While, with 
 breathless anxiety, the Lady of Avenel gazed on his well- 
 formed and expressive features, a slight shade of color re- 
 turned gradually to the cheek ; suspended animation be- 
 came restored by degrees, the child sighed deeply, opened 
 his eyes, which to the human countenance produces the 
 effect of light upon the natural landscape, stretched his 
 arms toward the lady, and muttered the word ** Mother" — 
 that epithet of all others which is dearest to the female ear. 
 
 "God, madam," said the preacher, "has restored the 
 child to your wishes ; it must be yours so to bring him up 
 that he may not one day wish that he had perished in his 
 innocence.'' 
 
 " It shall be my charge," said the lady ; and again throw- 
 ing her arms around the boy, she overwhelmed him with 
 kisses and caresses, so much was she agitated by the terror 
 arising from the danger in which he had been just placed, 
 and by joy at his unexpected deliverance. 
 
 "But you are not my mother," said the boy, recovering 
 his recollection, and endeavoring, though faintly, to escape 
 from the caresses of the Lady of Avenel — " you are not my 
 mother. Alas ! I have no mother — only I have dreamed that 
 I have one." 
 
 " I will read the dream for you, my love," answered the 
 Lady of Avenel ; ** and I will be myself your mother. Surely 
 God has heard my wishes, and in his own marvelous manner 
 iiath sent me an object on which my affections may expand 
 themselves." She looked toward Warden as she spoke. The 
 preacher hesitated what he should reply to a burst of pas- 
 sionate feeling which, perhaps, seemed to him more entftus' 
 
£ wavi:blet novels 
 
 iastic than the occasion demanded. In the mean while, the 
 large staghound, Wolf, which, dripping wet as he was, had 
 followed his mistress into the apartment, and had sate by the 
 bedside, a patient and quiet spectator of all the means used 
 for resuscitation of the being whom he had preserved, now 
 became impatient of remaining any longer unnoticed, and 
 began to, whine and fawn upon the lady with his great rough 
 paws. 
 
 *' Yes," she said, ''good Wolf, and you shall be remem- 
 bered also for your day's work ; and I will think the more 
 of you for having preserved the life of a creature so beauti- 
 ful." 
 
 But Wolf was not quite satisfied with the share of atten- 
 tion which he thus attracted : he persisted in whining and 
 pawing upon his mistress, his caresses rendered still more 
 troublesome by his long shaggy hair being so much and 
 thoroughly wetted, till she desired one of the domestics 
 with whom he was familiar, to call the animal out of the 
 apartment. Wolf resisted every invitation to this pur- 
 pose, until his mistress positively commanded him to be- 
 gone in an angry tone ; when turning towards the bed on 
 which the boy still lay, half-awake to sensation, half- 
 drowned in the meanders of a fluctuating delirum, he ut- 
 tered a deep and savage growl, curled up his nose and lips, 
 showing his full range of white and sharpened teeth, which 
 might have matched those of an actual wolf, and then, turn- 
 ing round, sullenly followed the domestic out of the 
 apartment. 
 
 " It is singular," said the lady, addressing Warden ; " the 
 animal is not only so good-natured to all, but so particularly 
 fond of children. What can ail him at the little fellow 
 whose life he has saved ? " 
 
 " Dogs," replied the preacher, "are but too like the hu- 
 man race in their foibles, though their instinct be less err- 
 ing than the reason of poor mortal man when relying upon his 
 own unassisted powers. Jealousy, my good lady, is a pas- 
 sion not unknown to them, and they often evince it, not 
 only with respect to the preferences which they see given by 
 their masters to individuals of their own species, but even 
 when their rivals are children. You have caressed that 
 child much and eagerly, and the dog considers himself as a 
 discarded favorite." 
 
 " It is a strange instinct," said the lady ; '* and from the 
 gravity with which you mention it, my reverend friend, I 
 would almost say that you supposed this singular jealousy of 
 
THE ABBOT '^ 
 
 my favorite, Wolf, -was not only well founded but justifiable. 
 But perhaps you speak in jest ? " 
 
 " I seldom jest," answered the preacher; *^life was not 
 lent to us to be expended in that idle mirth which resembles 
 the craclcling of thorns under the pot. I would only have you 
 derive, if it so please you, this lesson from what I have said, 
 that the best of our feelings, when indulged to excess, may 
 give pain to others. There is but one in which we may 
 indulge to the utmost limit of vehemence of which our 
 bosom is capable, secure that excess cannot exist in the 
 greatest intensity to which it can be excited : I mean the 
 love of our Maker." 
 
 " Surely," said the Lady of Avenel, *^we are commanded 
 by the same authority to love our neighbor ? " 
 
 ** Ay, madam," said Warden, ** but our love to God is to 
 be unbounded ; we are to love Him with our whole heart, 
 our whole soul, and our whole strength. The love which the 
 precept commands us to bear to our neighbor has affixed to 
 it a direct limit and qualification : we are to love our neigh- 
 bor as ourself ; as it is elsewhere explained by the great 
 commandment, that we must do unto him as we would that 
 he should do unto us. Here there is a limit and a bound 
 even to the most praiseworthy of our affections, so far as 
 they are turned upon sublunary and terrestrial objects. We 
 are to render to our neighbor, whatever be his rank or 
 degree, that corresponding portion of affection with which 
 we could rationally expect we should ourselves be regarded 
 by those standing in the same relation to us. Hence, 
 neither husband nor wife, neither son nor daughter, neither 
 friend nor relation, are lawfully to be made the objects of 
 our idolatry. The Lord our God is a jealous God, and will 
 not endure that we bestow on the creature that extremity 
 of devotion which He who made us demands as His own 
 share. I say to you, lady, that even in the fairest and 
 purest and most honorable feelings of our nature there is 
 that original taint of sin which ought to make us pause and 
 hesitate ere we indulge them to excess." 
 
 **I understand not this, reverend sir," said the lady; 
 " nor do I guess what I can have now said or done to draw 
 down on me an admonition which has something a taste of 
 reproof." 
 
 ^' Lady," said Warden, *^I crave your pardon if I have 
 urged aught beyond the limits of my duty. But consider 
 whether, in the sacred promise to be not only a protectress 
 but a mother to this poor child, your purpose may meet the 
 
10 WAVERLET NOVELS 
 
 wishes of the noble knight your husband. The fondness 
 which you have lavished on the unfortunate, and, I own, 
 most lovely, child has met something like a reproof in the 
 bearing of your household dog. Displease not your noble 
 husband. Men, as well as animals, are jealous of the affec- 
 tions of those they love." 
 
 " This is too much, reverend sir,'' said the Lady of 
 Avenel, greatly offended. " You have been long our guest, 
 and have received from the Knight of Avenel and myself 
 that honor and regard which your character and professior 
 so justly demand. But I am yet to learn that we have at 
 any time authorized your interference in our family arrange- 
 ments, or placed you as a judge of our conduct towards 
 each other. I pray this may be forborne in future." 
 
 '^Lady," replied the preacher, with the boldness peculiar 
 to the clergy of his persuasion at that time, ** when you 
 weary of my admonitions, when I see that my services are 
 no longer acceptable to you and the noble knight your 
 husband, I shall know that my Master wills me no longer to 
 abide nere ; and, praying for a continuance of His best bless- 
 ings on your family, I will then, were the season the depth 
 of winter, and the hour midnight, walk out on yonder 
 waste, and travel forth through these wild mountains, as 
 lonely and unaided, though far more helpless, than when I 
 first met your husband in the valley of Glendearg. But 
 while I remain here, I will not see you err from the true 
 path, no, not a hair's-breadth, without making the old 
 man's voice and remonstrance heard." 
 
 " Nay, but," said the lady, who both loved and respected 
 the good man, though sometimes a little offended at what 
 she conceived to be an exuberant degree of zeal, " we will 
 not part this way, my good friend. Women are quick and 
 hasty in their feelings ; but, believe me, my wishes and my 
 purposes towards this child are such as both my husband 
 and you will approve of." 
 
 The clergyman bowed, and retreated to his own apart- 
 ment. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 How steadfastly he fix'd his eyes on me — 
 
 His dark eyes shining through forgotten tears — 
 
 Then stretch'd his little arms, and call'd me mother I 
 
 What could I do? 1 took the bantling home ; 
 
 I could not tell the imp he had no mother. 
 
 Count Basil. 
 
 When Warden had left the apartment, the Lady of Avenel 
 gave way to the feelings of tenderness which the sight of 
 the boy, his sudden danger, and his recent escape had 
 inspired ; and no longer awed by the sternness, as she 
 deemed it, of the preacher, heaped with caresses the lovely 
 and interesting child. He was now in some measure re- 
 covered from the conse(]|uences of his accident, and received 
 passively, though not without wonder, the tokens of kind- 
 ness with which he was thus loaded. The face of the lady 
 was strange to him, and her dress different and far more 
 sumptuous than any he remembered. But the boy was 
 naturally of an undaunted temper ; and indeed children are 
 generally acute physiognomists, and not only pleased by that 
 which is beautiful in itself, but peculiarly quick in dis- 
 tinguishing and replying to the attentions of those who 
 really love them. If they see a person in company, though 
 a perfect stranger, who is by nature fond of children, the 
 little imps seem to discover it by a sort of freemasonry, 
 while the awkward attempts of those who make advances 
 to them for the purpose of recommending themselves to the 
 parents usually fail in attracting their reciprocal attention 
 The little, boy therefore, appeared in some degree sensible 
 of the lady's caresses, and it was with difficulty she with- 
 drew herself from his pillow to afford him leisure for 
 necessary repose. 
 
 ** To whom belongs our little rescued varlet ? " was the 
 first question which the Lady of Avenel put to her hand- 
 maiden Lilias, when they had retired to the hall. 
 
 **To an old woman in the hamlet," said Lilias, "who is 
 even now come so far as the porter's lodge to inquire con- 
 cerning his safety. Is it your pleasure that she be ad^ 
 mitted?'' 
 
 11 
 
12 WAVERLET NOVELS 
 
 '* Is it my pleasure ! " said the Lady of Avenel, echoing 
 the question with a strong accent of displeasure and sur- 
 prise ; " can you make any doubt of it ? AVhat woman 
 but must pity the agony of the mother whose heart is throb- 
 big for the safety of a child so lovely ! " 
 
 " Nay, but, madam," said Lilias, ** this woman is too old 
 to be the mother of the child ; I rather think she must be 
 his grandmother, or some more distant relation." 
 
 " Be she who she will, Lilias," replied the lady, " she 
 must have an aching heart while the safety of a creature so 
 lovely is uncertain. Go instantly and bring her hither. 
 Besides, I would willingly learn something concerning his 
 birth." 
 
 Lilias left the hall, and presently afterwards returned, 
 ushering in a tall female very poorly dressed, yet with 
 more pretension to decency and cleanliness than was usually 
 combined with such coarse garments. The Lady of Avenel 
 knew her figure the instant she presented herself. It was 
 the fashion of the family that, upon every Sabbath, and on 
 two evenings in the week besides, Henry Warden preached 
 or lectured in the chapel at the castle. The extension of 
 the Protestant faith was, upon principle, as well as in good 
 policy, a primary object with the Knight of Avenel. The 
 inhabitants of the village were therefore invited to attend 
 upon the instructions of Henry Warden, and many of them 
 were speedily won to the doctrine which their master and 
 protector approved. These sermons, homilies, and lec- 
 tures had made a great impression on the mindof the Abbot 
 Eustace, or Eustatius, and were a sufficient spur to the 
 severity and sharpness of his controversy with his old fellow- 
 collegiate ; and, ere Queen Mary was dethroned, and while 
 the Catholics still had considerable authority in the Border 
 provinces, he more than once threatened to levy his vassals, 
 and assail and level with the earth that stronghold of heresy, 
 the Castle of Avenel. But notwithstanding the abbot's im- 
 potent resentment, and notwithstanding also the disin- 
 clination of the country to favor the new religion, Henry 
 Warden proceeded without remission in his labors, and made 
 weekly converts from the faith of Eome to that of the Ee- 
 formed church. Amongst those who gave most earnest and 
 constant attendance on his ministry was the aged woman, 
 whose form, tall, and otherwise too remarkable to be for- 
 gotten, the lady had of late observed frequently as being 
 conspicuous amongst the little audience. She had indeed 
 more than once desired to know who that stately-looking 
 
THE ABBOT Id 
 
 woman was, whose appearance was so mvicli above the pov- 
 erty of her vestments. But the reply had always been 
 that she was an Englishwoman, who was tarrying for a 
 season at the hamlet, and that no one knew more con- 
 cerning her. She now asked her after her name and 
 birth. 
 
 '* Magdalen Graeme is my name," said the woman ; " I 
 come of the Graemes of Heathergill, in Xicol Forest, a peo- 
 ple of ancient blood." 
 
 " And what make you," continued the lady, " so far dis- 
 tant from your home ? " 
 
 ** I have no home," said Magdalen Graeme : '* it was burned 
 by your Border riders ; my husband and my son were slain ; 
 there is not a drop's blood left in the veins of any one 
 which is of kin to mine." 
 
 *' That is no uncommon fate in these wild times, and in 
 this unsettled land," said the lady; ^Hhe English hands 
 have been as deeply dyed in our blood as ever those of 
 Scotsmen have been in yours." . 
 
 *^You have right to say it, lady," answered Magdalen 
 Graeme ; ** for men tell of a time when this castle was not 
 strong enough to save your father's life, or to afford your 
 mother and her infant a place of refuge. And why ask ye 
 me, then, wherefore I dwell not in mine own home, and 
 with mine own people ? " 
 
 *^ It was indeed an idle question," answered the lady, 
 ** where misery so often makes wanderers ; but wherefore 
 take refuge in a hostile country ? " 
 
 '^ My neig ibors were Popish and mass-mongers," said the 
 old woman ; *Mt has pleased Heaven to give me a clearer 
 sight of the Gospel, and I have tarried here to enjoy the 
 ministry of that worthy man Henry Warden, who, to the 
 praise and comfort of many, teachetli the Evangel in truth 
 and in sincerity." 
 
 " Are you poor ? " again demanded the Lady of Avenel. 
 
 '* You hear me ask alms of no one," answered the English- 
 woman. 
 
 Here there was a pause. The manner of the woman was 
 if not disrespectful, at least much less than gracious ; and 
 she appeared to give no encouragement to farther communi- 
 cation. The Lady of Avenel renewed the conversation on a 
 different topic. 
 
 *' You have heard of the danger in which your boy has 
 been placed ? " 
 
 " 1 have, lady, and how by an especial providence he waj 
 
U WAVERLST NOVELS 
 
 rescued from death. May Heaven make him thankful, and 
 me ! " 
 
 ** What relation do you hear to him ?'* 
 
 " I am his grandmother, lady, if it so please you ; the 
 only relation he hath left upon earth to take charge of 
 him/' 
 
 ** The burden of his maintenance must necessarily be 
 grievous to you in your deserted situation ? " pursued the 
 
 ** I have complained of it to no one," said Magdalen 
 Graeme, with the same unmoved, dry, and unconcerned tone 
 of voice in which she had answered all the former ques- 
 tions. 
 
 " If," said the Lady of Avenel, " your grandchild could be 
 received into a noble family, would it not advantage both 
 him and you ? " 
 
 " Received into a noble family ! " said the old woman, 
 drawing herself up, and bending her brows until her fore- 
 head was wrinkled into a frown of unusual severity ; "and 
 for what purpose, I pray you ? — to be my lady's page, or my 
 lord's jack-man, to eat broken victuals, and contend with 
 other menials for the remnants of the master's meal ? 
 Would you have him to fan the flies from my lady's face while 
 ehe sleeps, to carry her train while she walks, to hand her 
 trencher when she feeds, to ride before her on horseback, to 
 walk after her on foot, to sing when she lists, and to be 
 silent when she bids ? — a very weathercock, which though 
 furnished in appearance with wings and plumage, cannot 
 soar into the air — cannot fly from the spot where it is 
 perched, but receives all its impulses, and performs all its 
 revolutions, obedient to the changeful breath of a vain 
 woman ? When the eagle of Helvellyn perches on the tower 
 of Lanercost, and turns and changes his place to show how 
 the wind sits, Roland Graeme shall be what you would make 
 him." 
 
 The woman spoke with a rapidity and vehemence which 
 seemed to have in it a touch of insanity ; and a sudden 
 sense of the danger to which the child must necessarily be 
 exposed in the charge of such a keeper increased the lady's 
 desire to keep him in the castle, if possible. 
 
 " You mistake me, dame," she said, addressing the old 
 woman in a soothing manner ; ** I do not wish your boy to 
 be in attendance on myself, but upon the good knight, my 
 husband. Were he himself the son of a belted earl, he 
 Dould not better be trained to arms, and all that befits a 
 
THE ABBOl 16 
 
 gentleman, than by the instructions and discipline of Sii 
 Halbert Glendinning." 
 
 " Ay," answered tne Oid woman, in the same style of bitter 
 irony, *' I know the wages of that service — a curse when the 
 corselet is not sufficiently brightened, a blow when the girth 
 is not tightly drawn ; to be beaten because the hounds are 
 at fault ; to be reviled because the foray is unsuccessful ; to 
 stain his hands for the master's bidding in the blood alike 
 of beast and of man ; to be a butcher of harmless deer, a 
 murderer and defacer of God's own image, not at his own 
 pleasure, but at that of his lord ; to live a brawling ruffian, 
 and a common stabber — exposed to heat, to cold, to want of 
 food, to all the privations of an anchoret, not for the love 
 of God, but for the service of Satan ; to die by the gibbet, 
 or in some obscure skirmish ; to sleep out his brief life in 
 carnal security, and to awake in the eternal fire which is 
 never quenched." 
 
 '• Nay," said the Lady of Avenel, *' but to such unhallowed 
 course of life your grandson will not be here exposed. My 
 husband is just and kind to those who live under his banner ; 
 and you yourself well know that youth have here a strict 
 as well as a good preceptor in the person of our chaplain." 
 
 The old woman appeared to pause. 
 
 "You have named," she said, *'the only circumstance 
 which can move me. I must soon onward, the vision has 
 said it : I must not tarry in the same spot — I must on — I 
 must on, it is my weird. Swear, then, that you will protect 
 the boy as if he were your own, until I return hither and 
 claim him, and I will consent for a space to part with him. 
 But especially swear, he shall not lack the instruction of 
 the godly man who hath placed the Gospel truth high above 
 those idolatrous shavelings, the monks and friars." 
 
 **Be satisfied, dame," said the Lady of Avenel; ''the 
 boy shall have as much care as if he were born of my own 
 blood. Will you see him now ? " 
 
 " No," answered the old woman, sternly ; '* to part is 
 enough. I go forth on my own mission. I will not soften 
 my heart by useless tears and wailings, as one that is not 
 called to a duty." 
 
 " Will you not accept of something to aid you in your 
 pilgrimage ? "said the Lady of Avenel, putting into her hand 
 two crowns of the sun. The old woman flung them down 
 on the table. 
 
 '•Am I of the race of Cain,*' she said, "proud lady, that 
 you offer me gold in exchange for my own flesh and blood ? ** 
 
16 WA YEBLEY NO VELS 
 
 •* I had no such meaning/' said the lady, gently; '*noT 
 am I the proud woman you term me. Alas ! my own for- 
 tunes might have taught me humility, even had it not been 
 born with me." 
 
 The old woman seemed somewhat to relax her tone of 
 severity. 
 
 ^^ You are of gentle blood," she said, ''else we had not 
 parleyed thus long together. You are of gentle blood, and 
 to such," she added, drawing up her tall form as she spoke, 
 " pride is as graceful as is the plume upon the bonnet. But 
 for these pieces of gold, lady, you must needs resume them. 
 I need not money. I am well provided ; and I may not care 
 for myself, nor think how, or by whom, I shall be sustained. 
 Farewell, and keep your word. Cause your gates to be 
 opened and your bridges to be lowered. I will set forward 
 this very night. When I come again I will demand from 
 you a strict account, for I have left with you the jewel of 
 my life ! Sleep will visit me but in snatches, food will not 
 refresh me, rest will not restore my strength, until I see 
 Roland Graeme. Once more, farewell." 
 
 '' Make your obeisance, dame," said Lilias to Magdalen 
 Graeme, as she retired — " make your obeisance to her lady- 
 ship, and thank her for her goodness, as is but fitting and 
 right." 
 
 The old woman turned short round on the officious wait- 
 ing-maid. *' Let her make her obeisance to me then, and I 
 will return it. AVhy should I bend to her ? — is it because 
 her kirtle is of silk, and mine of blue lockeram ? Go to, 
 my lady's waiting-woman. Know that the rank of the man 
 rates that of the wife, and that she who marries a churl's 
 son, were she a king's daughter, is but a peasant's bride." 
 
 Lilias was about to reply in great indignation, but her mis- 
 tress imposed silence on her, and commanded that the old 
 woman should be safely conducted to the mainland. 
 
 *' Conduct her safe ! " exclaimed the incensed waiting' 
 woman, while Magdalen Graeme left the apartment ; ''I say, 
 duck her in the loch, and then we will see whether she is 
 witch or not, as everybody in the village of Lochside will 
 say and swear. I marvel your ladyship could bear so long 
 with her insolence." 
 
 But the commands of the lady were obeyed, and the old 
 dame dismissed from the castle, was committed to her for- 
 tune. She kept her word, and did not long abide in that 
 place, leaving the hamlet on the very night succeeding the 
 interview, and wandering no one asked whither. The Lady 
 
THE ABBOT 17 
 
 of Avenel inquired under what circumstances she had ap- 
 peared among them, but could only learn that she was be- 
 lieved to be the widow of some man of consequence among 
 the Graemes who then inhabited the Debateable Land, a 
 name given to a certain portion of territory which was the 
 frequent subject of dispute betwixt Scotland and England ; 
 that she had suffered great wrong in some of the frequent 
 forays by which that unfortunate district was wasted, and 
 had been driven from her dwelling-place. She had arrived 
 in the hamlet no one knew for what purpose, and was held 
 by some to be a witch, by others a zealous Protestant, and 
 by others again a Catholic devotee. Her language was 
 mysterious, and her manners repulsive ; and all that could 
 be collected from her conversation seemed to imply that 
 she was under the influence either of a spell or of a vow — ■ 
 there was no saying which, since she talked as one who acted 
 under a powerful and external agency. 
 
 Such were the particulars which the lady^s inquiries were 
 able to collect concerning Magdalen Graeme, being far too 
 meager and contradictory to authorize any satisfactory deduc- 
 tion. In truth, the miseries of the time, and the various 
 turns of fate incidental to a frontier country, were per- 
 petually chasing from their habitations those who had nob 
 the means of defense or protection. These wanderers in 
 the land were too often seen to excite much attention or 
 sympathy. They received the cold relief which was extorted 
 by general feelings of humanity ; a little excited in some 
 breasts, and perhaps rather chilled in others, by the recollec- 
 tion that they who gave the charity to-day might themselves 
 want' it to-morrow. Magdalen Graeme, therefore, came and 
 departed like a shadow from the neighborhood of Avenel 
 Castle. 
 
 The boy whom Providence, as she thought, had thus 
 strangely placed under her care, was at once established a 
 favorite with the lady of the castle. How could it be other- 
 wise ? He became the object of those affectionate feelings 
 which, finding formerly no object on which to expand them- 
 selves, had increased the gloom of the castle, and embittered 
 the solitude of its mistress. To teach him reading and writ- 
 ing as far as her skill went, to attend to his childish com- 
 forts, to watch his boyish sports, became the lady^s favorite 
 amusement. In her circumstances, where the ear only heard 
 the lowing of the cattle from the distant hills, or the heavy 
 step of the warder as he walked upon his post, or the half- 
 envied laugh of her maiden as she turned her wheel, the ap- 
 
18 WAVERLET NOVE. H 
 
 pearance of the blooming and beautiful ooy gave an interest 
 which can hardly be conceived by those who live amid gayer 
 or busier scenes. Young Roland was to t] e Lady of Avenel 
 what the flower which occupies the window of some solitary 
 captive is to the poor wight by whom it is nursed and cul- 
 tivated — something which at once excited and repaid her 
 care ; and in giving the boy her affection, she felt, as it were, 
 grateful to him for releasing her from the state of dull 
 apathy in which she had usually found herself during the 
 absence of Sir Halbert Glendinning. 
 
 But even the charms of this blooming favorite were un- 
 able to chase the recurring apprehensions which arose from 
 her husband's procrastinated return. Soon after Roland 
 Graeme became a resident at the castle, a groom, despatched 
 by Sir Halbert, brought tidings that business of importance 
 still delayed the knight at the court of Holyrood. The 
 more distant period which the messenger had assigned for 
 his master's arrival at length glided away, summer melted 
 into autumn, and autumn was about to give place to winter, 
 and yet he came not. 
 
CHAPTEB^ m 
 
 thei vt^^ning tarvest-moon shone broad and bright. 
 The warder's horn was heard at dead of night, 
 And while the folding portals wide were flung, 
 With trampling hoofs the rocky pavement rung. 
 
 Leyden. 
 
 " And you, too, would be a soldier, Eoland ? " said the 
 Lady of Avenel to her young charge, while, seated on a 
 stone chair at one end of the battlements, she saw the boy 
 attempt with a long stick to mimic the motions of the 
 warder as he alternately shouldered, or ported, or sloped 
 pike. 
 
 ** Yes, lady," said the boy, for he was now familiar, and 
 replied to her questions with readiness and alacrity — ^* a 
 soldier will I be ; for there ne'er was gentleman but who 
 belted him with brand." 
 
 ** Thou a gentleman !" said Lilias, who, as usual, was iu 
 attendance ; '^ such a gentleman as I would make of a bean- 
 cod with a rusty knife." 
 
 **Nay, chide him not, Lilias," said the Lady of Avenel, 
 " for, beshrew me, but 1 think he comes of gentle blood ; 
 see how it musters in his face at your injurious reproof." 
 
 "Had I my will, madam," answered Lilias, ''a good 
 birchen wand should make his color muster to better pur- 
 pose still." 
 
 "On my word, Lilias," said the lady, "one would think 
 you had received harm from the poor iDoy ; or is he so far 
 on the frosty side of your favor because he enjoys the sunny 
 side of mine ? " 
 
 " Over Heaven's forbode, my lady ! " answered Lilias ; " I 
 have lived too long with gentles, I praise my star for it, to 
 fight with either follies or fantasies, whether they relate to 
 beast, bird, or boy. " 
 
 Lilias was a favorite in her own class, a spoiled domestic, 
 and often accustomed to take more license than her mistress 
 was at all times willing to encourage. But what did not 
 please the Lady of Avenel she did not choose to hear, and 
 thus it was on the present occasion. She resolved to look 
 more close and sharply after the boy, who had hitherto been 
 
 19 
 
20 WAVEBLEY NOVELS 
 
 committed chiefly to the management of Lilias. He must 
 she thought be born of gentle blood ; it were shame to think 
 otherwise of a form so noble and features'so fair ; the very 
 wildness in which he occasionally indulged, his contempt of 
 danger and impatience of restraint, had in them something 
 noble : assuredly the child was born of high rank. Such 
 was her conclusion, and she acted upon it accordingly. The 
 domestics around her, less jealous or less scrupulous than 
 Lilias, acted as servants usually do, following the bias, and 
 flattering for their own purposes, the humor of the lady ; and 
 the boy soon took on him those airs of superiority which 
 the sight of habitual deference seldom fails to inspire. It 
 seemed, in truth, as if to command were his natural sphere, 
 so easily did he use himself to exact and receive compliance 
 with his humors. The chaplain, indeed, might have inter- 
 posed to check the air of assumption which Roland Graeme 
 so readily indulged, and most probably would have willingly 
 rendered him that favor ; but the necessity of adjusting 
 with his brethren some disputed points of church disci- 
 pline had withdrawn him for some time from the castle, and 
 detained him in a distant part of the kingdom. 
 
 Matters stood thus in the Castle of Avenel, when a winded 
 bugle sent its shrill and prolonged notes from the shore of 
 the lake, and was replied to cheerily by the signal of the 
 warder. The Lady of Avenel knew the sounds of her hus- 
 band, and rushed to the window of the apartment in which 
 she was sitting. A band of about thirty spearmen, with a 
 pennon displayed before them, winded along the indented 
 shores of the lake, and approached the causeway. A single 
 horseman rode at the head of the party, his bright arms 
 catching a glance of the October sun as he moved steadily 
 along. Even at that distance, the lady recognized the lofty 
 plume, bearing the mingled colors of her own liveries and 
 those ©f Glendonwyne, blended with the holly-branch ; and 
 the firm seat and dignified demeanor of the rider, joined to 
 the stately motion of the dark brown steed, sufficiently an- 
 nounced Halbert Glendinning. 
 
 The lady's first thought was that of rapturous joy at her 
 husband's return : her second was connected with a fear 
 which had sometimes intruded itself, that he might not al- 
 together approve the peculiar distinction with which she 
 had treated her orphan ward. In this fear there was im- 
 plied a consciousness that the favor she had shown him was 
 excessive ; for Halbert Glendinning was at least as gentle 
 and indulgent as he was firm and rational in the intercourse 
 
TBE ABBOT 21 
 
 of his household ; and to her, in particular, his conduct had 
 ever been most affectionately tender. 
 
 Yet she did fear that, on the present occasion, her con- 
 duct might incur Sir Halbert's censure ; and hastily resolv- 
 ing that she would not mention the anecdote of the boy 
 until the next day, she ordered him to be withdrawn from 
 the apartment by Lilias. 
 
 '' 1 will not go with Lilias, madam,'' answered the spoiled 
 child, who had more than once carried his point by per- 
 severance, and who, like his betters, delighted in the ex-, 
 ercise of such authority—*^ I will not go to Lilias's gousty 
 room; I will stay and see that brave warrior who comes 
 riding so gallantly along the drawbridge," 
 
 ^' You must not stay, Eoland," said the lady, more posi- 
 tively than she usually spoke to her little favorite. 
 
 ^'I will," reiterated the boy, who had already felt his con- 
 sequence, and the probable chance of success. 
 
 ''You will, Eoland!" answered the lady; ^^ what man- 
 ner of word is that ? I tell you, you must go." 
 
 ^^ ^ Will,' " answered the forward boy, '' is a word for a 
 man, and ' must ' is no word for a lady." 
 
 '' You are saucy, sirrah," said the lady. ''Lilias, take 
 him with you instantly." . -..i. 
 
 " I always thought," said Lilias, smiling, as she seized the 
 reluctant boy by the arm, 'Hhat my young master must 
 give place to my old one." 
 
 ''And you too are malapert, mistress,' said the lady. 
 " Hath the moon changed, that ye all of you thus forget 
 yourselves ? " ^ n 
 
 Lilias made no reply, but led off the boy, who too proud 
 to offer unavailing resistance, darted at his benefactress a 
 glance which intimated plainly how willingly he would have 
 defied her authority had he possessed the power to make 
 good his point. , ,i . 
 
 The Lady of Avenel was vexed to find how much this 
 trifling circumstance had discomposed her at the moment 
 when she ought naturally to have been entirely engrossed 
 by her husband's return. But we do not recover composure 
 by the mere feeling that agitation is mistimed. The glow 
 of displeasure had not left the lady's cheek, her ruffled 
 deportment was not yet entirely composed, when her hus- 
 band, unhelmeted, but still wearing the rest of his arms, 
 entered the apartment. His appearance banished the 
 thoughts of everything else ; she rushed to him, clasped his 
 iron-sheathed frame in her arms, and kissed his martial and 
 
22 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 manly face with an affection which, -vas at once evident and 
 sincere. The warrior returned her embrace and her caress 
 with the same fondness ; for the time which had passed 
 since their union had diminished its romantic ardor, per- 
 haps, hut it had rather increased its rational tenderness, and 
 Sir Halbert Glendinning's long and frequent absences from 
 his castle had prevented affection from degenerating by 
 habit into indifference. 
 
 When the first eager greetings were paid and received, 
 the lady gazed fondly on her husband s face as she re- 
 marked — *' You are altered, Halbert : you have ridden hard 
 and far to-day, or you have been ill ? " 
 
 ** I have been well, Mary," answered the knight — "pass- 
 ing well have I been ; and a long ride is to me, thou well 
 knowest, but a thing of constant custom. Those who are 
 born noble may slumber out their lives within the walls of 
 their castles and manor-houses ; but he who hath achieved 
 nobility by his own deeds must ever be in the saddle, to 
 show that he merits his advancement." 
 
 While he spoke thus, the lady gazed fondly on him, as if 
 endeavoring to read his inmost soul ; for the tone in which 
 he spoke was that of melancholy depression." 
 
 Sir Halbert Glendinning was the same, yet a different 
 
 Eerson from what he had appeared in his early years. The 
 ery freedom of the aspiring youth had given place to the 
 steady and stern composure of the approved soldier and 
 skilful politician. There were deep traces of care on those 
 noble features, over which each emotion used formerly to 
 pass like light clouds across a summer sky. That sky was 
 now, not perhaps clouded, but still and grave, like that of the 
 sober autumn evening. The forehead was higher and more 
 bare than in early youth, and the locks which still clustered 
 thick and dark on the warrior's head were worn away at the 
 temples, not by age, but by the constant pressure of the 
 steel cap, or helmet. His beard, according to the fashion 
 of the times, grew short and thick, and was turned into 
 mustachois on the upper lip, and peaked at the extremity. 
 The cheek, weatherbeaten and embrowned, had lost the 
 glow of youth, but showed the vigorous complexion of 
 active and confirmed manhood. Halbert Glendinning was, 
 in a word, a knight to ride at a king's right hand, to bear 
 his banner in war, to be his counselor in time of peace ; for 
 his looks expressed the considerate firmness which can 
 resolve wisely and dare boldly. Still, over these noble feat- 
 ures there now spread an air of dejection, of which, per- 
 
THE ABBOT 23 
 
 haps, the owner was not conscious, but which did not escape 
 the observation of his anxious and affectionate partner. 
 
 ** Something has happened, or is about to happen," said 
 the Lady of Avenel ; '*this sadness sits not on your brow 
 without cause — misfortune, national or particular must 
 needs be at hand." 
 
 " There is nothing new that I wot of," said Halbert Glen- 
 dining ; " but there is little of evil which can befall a king- 
 dom that may not be apprehended in this unhappy and di- 
 vided realm." 
 
 "Nay, then," said the lady, *' I see there has really been 
 some fatal work on foot. My Lord of Murray has not so 
 long detained you at Holyrood, save that he wanted your 
 help in some weighty purpose." 
 
 '*I have not been at Holyrood, Mary," answered the 
 knight ; "I have been several weeks abroad." 
 
 " Abroad ! and sent me no word ! " replied the lady. 
 
 ** What would the knowledge have availed, but to have 
 rendered you unhappy, my love ? " replied the knight ; 
 *'your thoughts would have converted the slightest breeze 
 that curled your own lake into a tempest raging in the Ger- 
 man Ocean." 
 
 *' And have you then really crossed the sea ?" said the 
 lady, to whom the very idea of an element which she had 
 never seen conveyed notions of terror and of wonder — " really 
 left your own native land and trodden distant shores, where 
 the Scottish tongue is unheard and unknown ? " 
 
 " Really, and really," said the knight, taking her hand in 
 affectionate playfulness, " I have done this marvelous deed — 
 have rolled on the ocean for three days and three nights, 
 with the deep green waves dashing by the side of my pillow, 
 and but a thin plank to divide me from it." 
 
 "Indeed, my Halbert," said the lady, " that was a tempt- 
 ing of Divine Providence. I never bade you unbuckle the 
 sword from your side, or lay the lance from your hand ; I 
 never bade you sit still when your honor called you to rise 
 and ride ; but are not blade and spear dangers enough for 
 one man's life, and why would you trust rough winds and 
 raging seas ? " 
 
 " We have in Germany and in the Low Countries, as they 
 are called," answered Glendenning, " men who are united 
 with us in faith, and with whom it is fitting we should unite 
 in alliance. To some of these I was despatched on busi- 
 ness as important as it was secret. I went in safety, and I 
 returned in security : there is more danger to a man's 
 
24 WAVERLEF NOVELS 
 
 life betwixt this and Holyrood than in all the seas that wash 
 the lowlands of Holland." 
 
 " And the country, my Halbert, and the people," said the 
 lady, ** are they like our kindly Scots ? or what bearing have 
 they to strangers ? " 
 
 *^They are a people, Mary, strong in their wealth, which 
 renders all other nations weak, and weak in those arts of war 
 by which other nations are strong." 
 
 '' I do not understand you," said the lady. 
 
 " The Hollander and the Fleming, Mary, pour forth their 
 spirit in trade, and not in war ; their wealth purchases 
 them the arms of foreign soldiers, by whose aid they defend 
 it. They erect dikes on the sea-shore to protect the land 
 which they have won, and they levy regiments of the stub- 
 born Switzers and hardy Germans to protect the treasures 
 which they have amassed. And thus they are strong in 
 their weakness ; for the very wealth which tempts their 
 masters to destroy them arms strangers in their behalf." 
 
 " The slothful hinds ! " exclaimed Mary, thinking and 
 feeling like a Scotswoman of the period; ^'have they 
 hands, and fight not for the land which bore them ? They 
 should be notched off at the elbow." 
 
 '* Nay, that were but hard justice," answered her husband ; 
 " for their hands serve their country, though not in battle, 
 like ours. Look at these barren hills, Mary, and at that deep 
 winding vale by which the cattle are even now returning 
 from their scanty browse. The hand of the industrious 
 Fleming would cover these mountains with wood, and raise 
 corn where we now see a starved and scanty sward of heath 
 and ling. It grieves me, Mary, when I look on that land, 
 and think what benefit it might receive from such men as I 
 have lately seen — men who seek not the idle fame derived 
 from dead ancestors, or the bloody renown won in modern 
 broils, but tread along the land as preservers and improvers, 
 not as tyrants and destroyers." 
 
 '^ These amendments would here be but a vain fancy, my 
 Halbert," answered the Lady of Avenel: '^Hhe trees would 
 be burned by the English foeman ere they ceased to be 
 shrubs, and the grain that you raised would be gathered in 
 by the first neighbor that possessed more riders than follow 
 your train. Why should you repine at this ? The fate 
 that made you Scotsman by birth, gave you head, and heart, 
 and hand to uphold the name as it must needs be upheld." 
 
 '' It gave me no name to uphold," said Halbert, pacing 
 the 'floor slowly ; '^ my arm has been foremost in every strife. 
 
THE ABBOT 25 
 
 my voice has been heard in every council, nor have the 
 wisest rebuked me. The crafty Lethington, the deep and 
 dark Morton, have held secret council with me, and Grange 
 and Lindesay have owned that in the field I dtid the devoir 
 of a gallant knight ; but let the emergence be passed when 
 they need my head and hand, and they only know me as son 
 of the obscure portioner of Glendearg." 
 
 This was a theme which the lady always dreaded ; for the 
 rank conferred on her husband, the favor in which he was 
 held by the powerful Earl of Murray, and the high talents 
 by which he vindicated his right to that rank and that favor, 
 were qualities which rather increased than diminished the 
 envy which was harbored against Sir Halbert Glendinning 
 among a proud aristocracy, as a person originally of inferior 
 and obscure birth, who had risen to his present eminence 
 solely by his personal merit. The natural firmness of his 
 mind did not enable him to despise the ideal advantages of 
 a higher pedigree, which were held in such universal esteem 
 by all with whom he conversed ; and so open are the noblest 
 minds to Jealous inconsistencies, that there were moments in 
 which he felt mortified that his lady should possess those 
 advantages of birth and high descent which he himself did 
 not enjoy, and regretted that his importance as the proprietor 
 of Avenel was qualified by his possessing it only as the 
 husband of the heiress. He was not so unjust as to permit 
 any unworthy feelings to retain permanent possession of his 
 mind, but yet they recurred from time to time, and did not 
 escape his lady's anxious observation. 
 
 '* Had we been blessed with children,^' she was wont on 
 such occasions to say to herself — *' had our blood been united 
 in a son who might have joined my advantages of descent 
 with my husband's personal worth, these painful and irksome 
 reflections had not disturbed our union even for a moment. 
 But the existence of such an heir, in whom our affections, 
 as well as our pretensions, might have centered, has been 
 denied to us.'' 
 
 With such mutual feelings, it cannot be wondered that it 
 gave the lady pain to hear her husband verging towards this 
 topic of mutual discontent. On the present, as on other 
 similar occasions, she endeavored to divert the knight's 
 thoughts from this painful channel. 
 
 *^How can you," she said, *' suffer yourself to dwell upon 
 things which profit nothing ? Have you indeed no name to 
 uphold ? You the good and the brave, the wise in council 
 and the strong in battle, have you not to support the reputa- 
 
n WA VEBLEY NOVELS 
 
 tion your own deeds have won — a reputation more honorable 
 than mere ancestry can supply ? Good men love and honor 
 you, the wicked fear and the turbulent obey you ; and is it 
 not necessary you should exert yourself to ensure the endur- 
 ance of that love, that honor, that wholesome fear, and that 
 necessary obedience ?'' 
 
 As she thus spoke, the eye of her husband caught from 
 hers courage and comfort, and it lightened as he took her 
 hand and replied, " It is most true, my Mary, and I deserve 
 thy rebuke, who forget what I am, in repining because I am 
 not what I cannot be. I am now what the most famed an- 
 cestors of those I envy were, the mean man raised into 
 eminence by his own exertions ; and sure it is a boast as 
 honorable to have those capacities which are necessary to the 
 foundation of a family as to be descended from one who pos- 
 sessed them some centuries before. The Hay of Luncarty 
 who bequeathed his bloody yoke to his lineage, the *' dark 
 gray man ^' who first founded the house of Douglas, had yet 
 less of ancestry to boast than I have. For thou knowest, 
 Mary, that my name derives itself from a line of ancient 
 warriors, although my immediate forefathers preferred the 
 humble station in which thou didst first find them ; and war 
 and counsel are not less proper to the house of Glendonwyne,* 
 even in its most remote descendants, than to the proudest of 
 their baronage. '' 
 
 He strode across the hall as he spoke ; and the lady smiled 
 internally to observe how much his mind dwelt upon the 
 prerogatives of birth, and endeavored to establish his claims, 
 however remote, to a share in them, at the very moment 
 when he affected to hold them in contempt. It will easily 
 be guessed, however, that she permitted no symptom to 
 escape her that could show she was sensible of the weakness 
 of her husband — a perspicacity which perhaps his proud 
 spirit could not very easily have brooked. 
 
 As he returned from the extremity of the hall, to which 
 he had stalked while in the act of vindicating the title of the 
 house of Glendonwyne in its most remote branches to the full 
 privileges of aristocracy, *' Where,'' he said, '^ is Wolf ? I 
 nave not seen him since my return, and he was usually the 
 first to welcome my home-coming.'' 
 
 *' Wolf,'' said the lady, with a slight degree of embar- 
 rassment, for which, perhaps, she would have found it diffi- 
 cult to assign any reason even to herself — '* Wolf is chained 
 np for the present. He hath been surly to my page.'* 
 
 ♦ See Note 1. 
 
Roland, go kiss the hand of the noble Knight.' 
 
THE ABBOT tl 
 
 " Wolf chained up — and Wolf surly to your page ! " an- 
 swered Sir Albert Glendinning. " Wolf never was surly to 
 any one ; and the chain will either break his spirit or render 
 him savage. So ho, there — set Wolf free directly." 
 
 He was obeyed ; and the huge dog rushed into the hall, 
 disturbing by his unwieldy and boisterous gambols the whole 
 economy of reels, rocks, and distaffs with which the maidens 
 of the household were employed, when the arrival of their 
 lord was a signal to them to withdraw, and extracting from 
 Lilias, who was summoned to put them again in order, the 
 natural observation, ''That the laird's pet was as trouble- 
 some as the lady's page." 
 
 '* And who is this page, Mary ? " said the knight, his at- 
 tention again called to the subject by the observation of the 
 waiting-woman — " who is this page, whom every one seems 
 to weigh in the balance with my old friend and favorite. 
 Wolf ? When did you aspire to the dignity of keeping a page, 
 or who is the boy ? " 
 
 *' I trust, my Halbert," said the lady, not without a blush, 
 "you will not think your wife entitled to less attendance 
 than other ladies of her quality." 
 
 "Nay, Dame Mary," answered the knight, "it is enough 
 you desire such an attendant. Yet I have never loved to 
 nurse such useless menials. A lady's page — it may well suit 
 the proud English dames to have a slender youth to bear 
 their trains from bower to hall, fan them when they slumber, 
 and touch the lute for them when they please to listen ; but 
 our Scottish matrons were wont to be above such vanities, 
 and our Scottish youth ought to be bred to the spear and the 
 stirrup." 
 
 " Nay, but, my husband," said the lady, " Idid but jest 
 when I called this boy my page ; he is in sooth a little or- 
 phan whom we saved from perishing in the lake, and whom 
 I have since kept in the castle out of charity. Lilias, bring 
 little Roland hither." 
 
 Roland entered accordingly, and, flying to the lady's side, 
 took hold of the plaits of her gown, and then turned round 
 and gazed with an attention, not unmingled with fear, upon 
 the stately form of the knight. " Roland," said the lady, 
 "go kiss the hand of the noble knight, and ask him to be 
 thy protector." But Roland obeyed not, and, keeping his 
 station, continued to gaze fixedly and timidly on Sir Halbert 
 Glendinning. " Go to the knight, boy," said the lady ; 
 " what dost thou fear, child ? Go kiss Sir Halbert's hand." 
 
 ** I will kiss no hand save yours, lady," answered the boy. 
 
m WAVERLEY IroViiLB 
 
 '* Kay, but do as you are commanded, child/' replied the 
 lady. '^ He is dashed by your presence/' she said, apolo- 
 gizing to her husband ; ^' but is he not a handsome boy ? " 
 
 '^ And so is Wolf," said Sir Halbert, as he patted his huge 
 four-footed favorite, *^a handsome dog; but he has this 
 double advantage over your new favorite, that he does what 
 he is commanded, and hears not when he is praised/' 
 
 '^ Nay, now you are displeased with me," replied the lady ; 
 *^and yet why should you be so ? There is nothing wrong 
 in relieving the distressed orphan, or in loving that which is 
 in itself lovely and deserving of affection. But you have 
 seen Mr. Warden at Edinburgh, and he has set you against 
 the poor bo-y." 
 
 ''My dear Mary," answered her husband, ''Mr. Warden 
 better knows his place than to presume to interfere either in 
 your affairs or in mine. I neither blame your relieving this 
 boy nor your kindness for him. But I think, considering 
 his birth and prospects, you ought not to treat him with 
 injudicious fondness, which can only end in rendering him 
 unfit for the humble situation to which Heaven has designed 
 him." 
 
 " Nay, but, my Halbert, do but look at the boy," said the 
 lady, " and see whether he has not the air of being intended 
 by Heaven for something nobler than a mere peasant. May 
 he not be designed, as others have been, to rise out of a hum- 
 ble situation into honor and eminence ? " 
 
 Thus far had she proceeded, when the consciousness that 
 she was treading upon delicate ground at once occurred to 
 her, and induced her to take the most natural but the worst 
 of all courses on such occasions, whether in conversation or 
 in an actual bog, namely, that of stopping suddenly short 
 in the illustration which she had commenced. Her brow crim- 
 soned, and that of Sir Halbert Glendinning was slightly over- 
 cast. But it was only for an instant ; for he was incapable 
 of mistaking his lady's meaning or supposing that she meant 
 intentional disrespect to him. 
 
 "Be it as you please, my love," he replied ; ** I owe you 
 too much to contradict you in aught which may render your 
 solitary mode of life more endurable. Make of this youth 
 what you will, and you have my full authority for doing so ; 
 but remember he is your charge, not mine. Remember he 
 hath limbs to do man's service, a soul and a tongue to worship 
 God ; breed him, therefore, to be true to his country and to 
 Heaven ; and for the rest, dispose of him as you list. It is, 
 and shall rest, your own matter/' 
 
THE ABBOT 29 
 
 This conversation decided the fate of Eoland Graeme, who 
 from thenceforward was little noticed by the master of the 
 mansion of Avenel, but indulged and favored by its mis- 
 tress. 
 
 This situation led to many important consequences, and, 
 in truth, tended to bring forth the character of the youth 
 in all its broad lights and deep shadows. As the knight 
 himself seemed tacitly to disclaim alike interest and control 
 over the immediate favorite of his lady, young Roland was, 
 by circumstances, exempted from the strict discipline to 
 which, as the retainer of a Scottish man of rank, he would 
 otherwise have been subjected, according to all the rigor 
 of the age. But the steward, or master of the household — 
 such was the proud title assumed by the head domestic of 
 each petty baron — deemed it not advisable to interfere with 
 the favorite of the lady, and especially since she had brought 
 the estate into the present family. Master Jasper Wingate 
 was a man experienced, as he often boasted, in the ways of 
 great families, and knew how to keep the steerage even, when 
 wind and tide chanced to be in contradiction. 
 
 This prudent personage winked at much, and avoided 
 giving opportunity for further offense, by requesting little 
 of Roland Graeme beyond the degree of attention which he 
 was himself disposed to pay ; rightly conjecturing that, 
 however lowly the place which the youth might hold in the 
 favor of the Knight of Avenel, still to make an evil report 
 of him would make an enemy of the lady, without securing 
 the favor of her husband. With these prudential considera- 
 tions, and doubtless not without an eye to his own ease and 
 convenience, he taught the boy as much, and only as much, 
 as he chose to learn, readily admitting whatever apology it 
 pleased his pupil to allege in excuse for idleness or negli- 
 gence. As the other persons in the castle to whom such 
 tasks were delegated readily imitated the prudential conduct 
 of the major-domo, there was little control used towards 
 Roland Graeme, who, of course, learned no more than what 
 a very active mind, and a total impatience of absolute idle- 
 ness, led him to acquire upon his own account, and by dint 
 of his own exertions. The latter were especially earnest 
 when the lady herself condescended to be his tutoress or to 
 examine his progress. 
 
 It followed also, from his quality as my lady's favorite, 
 that Roland was viewed with no peculiar good-will by the 
 followers of the knight, many of whom, of the same age, 
 and apparently similar origin, with the fortunate page, were 
 
30 WA VEELET NOVELS 
 
 Bubjected to severe observance of the ancient and rigorous 
 discipline of a feudal retainer. To these, Eoland Graeme 
 was, of course, an object of envy, and, in consequence, of 
 dislike and detraction ; but the youth possessed qualities 
 which it was impossible to depreciate. Pride and a sense of 
 early ambition did for him what severity and constant in- 
 struction did for others. In truth, the youthful Roland dis- 
 played that early flexibility both of body and mind which 
 renders exercise, either mental or bodily, rather matter of 
 sport than of study ; and it seemed as if he acquired 
 accidentally, and by starts, those accomplishments which 
 earnest and constant instruction, enforced by frequent re- 
 proof and occasional chastisement, had taught to others. 
 Such military exercises, such lessons of the period, as he 
 found it agreeable or convenient to apply to, he learned so 
 perfectly as to confound those who were ignorant how often 
 the want of constant application is compensated by vivacity 
 of talent and ardent enthusiasm. The lads, therefore, who 
 were more regularly trained to arms, to horsemanship, and 
 to other necessary exercises of the period, while they envied 
 Roland Graeme the indulgence or negligence with which he 
 seemed to be treated, had little reason to boast of their own 
 8uj)erior acquirements : a few hours, with the powerful ex- 
 ertion of the most energetic will, seemed to do for him more 
 than the regular instruction of weeks could accomplish for 
 others. 
 
 Under these advantages, if, indeed, they were to be termed 
 such, the character of young Roland began to develop itself. 
 It was bold, peremptory, decisive, and overbearing ; gener- 
 ous if neither withstood nor contradicted ; vehement and 
 Eassionate if censured or opposed. He seemed to consider 
 imself as attached to no one, and responsible to no one, 
 except his mistress ; and even over her mind he had gradually 
 acquired that species of ascendency which indulgence is so 
 apt to occasion. And although the immediate followers and 
 dependants of Sir Halbert Glendinning saw his ascendency 
 with jealousy, and often took occasion to mortify his vanity, 
 there wanted not those who were willing to acquire the favor 
 of the Lady of Avenel by humoring and taking part with the 
 youth whom she protected ; for although a favorite, as the 
 poet assures us, has no friend, he seldom fails to have both 
 followers and flatterers. 
 
 The partisans of Roland Graeme were chiefly to be found 
 amongst the inhabitants of the little hamlet on the shore of 
 the laKe, These villagers, who were sometimes tempted to 
 
THE ABBOT 81 
 
 compare their own situation with that of the immediate and 
 constant followers of the knight, who attended him on his 
 frequent journeys to Edinburgh and elsewhere, delighted in 
 considering and representing themselves as more properly the 
 subjects of the Lady of Avenel than of her husband. It is 
 true, her wisdom and affection on all occasions discounte- 
 nanced the distinction which was here implied ; but the villa- 
 gers persisted in thinking it must be agreeable to her to enjoy 
 their peculiar and undivided homage, or at least in acting as 
 if they thought so ; and one chief mode by which they evinced 
 their sentiments was by the respect they paid to young Roland 
 Graeme, the favorite attendant of the descendant of their an- 
 cient lords. This was a mode of flattery too pleasing to 
 encounter rebuke or censure ; and the opportunity which it 
 afforded the youth to form, as it were, a party of his own 
 W'thin the limits of the ancient barony of Avenel, added not 
 a little to the audacity and decisive tone of a character which 
 was by nature bold, impetuous, and incontrollable. 
 
 Of the two members of the household who had manifested 
 an early jealously of Roland Grasme, the prejudices of Wolf 
 were easily overcome ; and in process of time the noble dog 
 slept with Bran, Luath, and the celebrated hounds of ancient 
 days. But Mr. Warden, the chaplain, lived, and retained 
 his dislike to j^outh. That good man, single-minded and 
 benevolent as he really was, entertained rather more than a 
 reasonable idea of the respect due to him as a minister, and 
 exacted from the inhabitants of the castle more deference 
 than the haughty young page, proud of his mistress's favor, 
 and petulant from youth and situation, was at all times will- 
 ing to pay. His bold and free demeanor, his attachment to 
 rich dress and decoration, his inaptitude to receive instruction, 
 and his hardening himself against rebuke, were circumstances 
 which induced the good old man, with more haste than 
 charity, to set the forward page down as a vessel of wrath, 
 and to presage that the youth nursed that pride and haughti- 
 ness of spirit which goes before ruin and destruction. On 
 the other hand, Roland evinced at times a marked dislike, 
 and even something like contempt, of the chaplain. Most 
 of the attendants and followers of Sir Halbert Glendinning 
 entertained the same charitable thoughts as the reverend Mr. 
 Warden ; but while Roland was favored by their lady, and 
 endured by their lord, they saw no policy in making their 
 opinions public. 
 
 Roland Graeme was sufficiently sensible of the unpleasant 
 situation in which he stood ; but in the haughtiness of his 
 
3^ WA VERLEY NO VEL8 
 
 heart he retorted npon the other domestics the distant, cold, 
 and sarcastic manner in which they treated him, assumed an 
 air of superiority which compelled the most obstinate to obedi- 
 ence, and had the satisfaction at least to be dreaded, if he 
 was heartily hated. 
 
 The chaplain's marked dislike had the effect of recommend- 
 ing him to the attention of Sir Halbert's brother, Edward, 
 who now, under the conventional appellation of Father Am- 
 brose, continued to be one of the few monks who, with the 
 Abbot Eustatius, had, notwithstanding the nearly total 
 downfall of their faith under the regency of Murray, been 
 still permitted to linger in the cloisters at Kennaquhair. 
 Respect to Sir Halbert had prevented their being altogether 
 driven out of the abbey, though their order was now in a 
 great measure suppressed, and they were interdicted the 
 public exercise of their ritual, and only allowed for their 
 support a small pension out of their once splendid revenues. 
 Father Ambrose, thus situated, was an occasional, though 
 very rare, visitant at the Castle of Avenel, and was at such 
 times observed to pay particular attention to Roland Graeme, 
 who seemed to return it with more depth of feeling than con- 
 sisted with his usual habits. 
 
 Thus situated, years glided on, during which the knight 
 of Avenel continued to act a frequent and important part in 
 the convulsions of his distracted country ; while young 
 Graeme anticipated, both in wishes and personal accomplish- 
 ments, the age which should enable him to emerge from the 
 obscurity of his present situation. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 Amid their cups that freely flow'd, 
 
 Their revelry and mirth, 
 A youthful lord tax'd Valentine 
 
 With base and doubtful birth. 
 
 Valentine and Orson, 
 
 When" Roland GraBme was a youth about seventeen years 
 of age, he chanced one summer morning to descend to the 
 mew in which Sir Halbert Glendinning kept his hawks, in 
 order to superintend the training of an eyas, or young hawk, 
 which he himself, at the imminent risk of neck and limbs, 
 had taken from a celebrated eyrie in the neighborhood, 
 called Gledscraig. As he was by no means satisfied with 
 the attention which had been bestowed on his favorite bird, 
 he was not slack in testifying his displeasure to the falconer's 
 lad, whose duty it was to have attended upon it. 
 
 *'What, ho ! sir knave,'' exclaimed Roland, "is it thus 
 you feed the eyas with unwashed meat as if you were gorg- 
 ing the foul branch er of a worthless hoodie-crow ? By the 
 mass, and thou hast neglected its castings also for these 
 two days ! Think'st thou I ventured my neck to bring the 
 bird down from the crag that thou shouldst spoil her by thy 
 neglect ? " And to add force to his remonstrances, he con- 
 ferred a cuff or two on the negligent attendant of the hawks, 
 who, shouting rather louder than was necessary under all 
 the circumstances, brought the master falconer to his 
 assistance. 
 
 Adam Woodcock, the falconer of Avenel, was an English- 
 man by birth, but so long in the service of Glendinning 
 that he had lost much of his national attachment in that 
 which he had formed to his master. He was a favorite in 
 his department, jealous and conceited of his skill, as mas- 
 ters of the game usually are ; for the rest of his character, 
 he was a Jester and a parcel poet (qualities which by no 
 means abated his natural conceit), a jolly fellow, who, though 
 a sound Protestant, loved a flagon of ale better than a long 
 sermon, a stout man of his hands when need required, true 
 to his master, and a little presuming on his interest with 
 hinu 
 
34 WA VEBLEY NOVELS 
 
 Adam Woodcock, such as we have described him, by no 
 means relished the freedom used by young Graeme in chas- 
 tising his assistant. " Hey, hey, my lady's page,'' said he, 
 stepping between his own boy and Roland, " fair and softly, 
 an it like your gilt jacket — hands off is fair play — if my boy 
 has done amiss, I can beat him myself, and then you may 
 keep your hands soft." 
 
 ** I will beat him and thee too,'* answered Roland, with- 
 out hesitation, " an ye look not better after your business. 
 See how the bird is cast away between you. I found the 
 careless lurdane feeding her with unwashed flesh, and she 
 an eyas."* 
 
 **Goto," said the falconer, ''thou art but an eyas thy- 
 self, child Roland. What knowest thou of feeding ? I 
 say that the eyas should have her meat unwashed until she 
 becomes a brancher : 'twere the ready way to give her the 
 frounce, to wash her meat sooner, and so knows every one 
 who knows a gled from a falcon." 
 
 " It is thine own laziness, thou false English blood, that 
 dost nothing but drink and sleep," retorted the page, '' and 
 leaves that lither lad to do the work, which he minds as 
 little as thou." 
 
 " And am I so idle then," said the falconer, " that have 
 three cast of hawks to look after, at perch and mew, and to 
 fly them in the field to boot ? — and is my lady's page so 
 busy a man that he must take me up short ? — and am I of 
 false English blood ? I marvel what blood thou art — neither 
 Englander nor Scot — fish nor flesh — a bastard from the 
 Debateable Land, without either kith, kin, or ally ! 
 Marry, out upon thee, foul kite, that would fain be a tercel 
 gentle ! " 
 
 The reply to this sarcasm was a box on the ear, so well 
 applied that it overthrew the falconer into the cistern in 
 which water was kept for the benefit of the hawks. Up 
 started Adam Woodcock, his wrath nowise appeased by the 
 cold immersion, and seizing on a truncheon which stood by, 
 would have soon requited the injury he had received, had 
 not Roland laid his hand on his poniard, and sworn by all 
 that was sacred that, if he offered a stroke towards him, he 
 would sheath the blade in his bowels. The noise was now 
 so great that more than one of the household came in, and 
 amongst others the major-domo, a grave personage, already 
 
 * There is a difference amongst authorities how long the neet* 
 ling hawk should be fed with flesh which has previously been 
 washed. 
 
THE ABBOT 35 
 
 mentioned, whose gold chain and white wand intimated his 
 authority. At the appearance of this dignitary, the strife 
 was for the present appeased. He embraced, however, so 
 favorable an opportunity to read Roland Graeme a shrewd 
 lecture on the impropriety of his deportment to his fellow- 
 menials, and to assure him that, should he communicate 
 this fray to his master (who, though now on one of his fre- 
 quent expeditions, was speedily expected to return), which 
 but for respect to his lady he would most certainly do, the 
 residence of the culprit in the Castle of Avenel would be 
 but of brief duration. ** But, however," added the prudent 
 master of the household, ** I will report the matter first to 
 my lady/' 
 
 ** Very just — very right. Master Wingate," exclaimed 
 several voices together ; " my lady will consider if daggers 
 are to be drawn on us for every idle word, and whether we 
 are to live in a well-ordered household, where there is the 
 fear of God, or amongst drawn dirks and sharp knives. '' 
 
 The object of this general resentment darted an angry 
 glance around him, and suppressing with difficulty the desire 
 which urged him, to reply in furious or in contemptuous 
 language, returned his dagger into the scabbard, looked 
 disdainfully around upon the assembled menials, turned 
 short upon his heel, and pushing aside those who stood be- 
 twixt him and the door, left the apartment. 
 
 " This will be no tree for my nest," said the falconer, *' if 
 this cock-sparrow is to crow over us as he seems to do." 
 
 *' He struck me with his switch yesterday," said one of 
 the grooms, " because the tail of his worship's gelding was 
 not trimmed altogether so as suited his humor." 
 
 "And I promise you," said the laundress, '*'my young 
 master will stick nothing to call an honest woman 'slut' 
 and * quean' if there be but a speck of shoot upon his band- 
 collar.^' 
 
 ** If Master Wingate do not his errand to my lady," was 
 the general result, ''there will be no tarrying in the same 
 house with Roland Graeme." 
 
 The master of the household heard them all for some time, 
 and then, motioning for universal silence, he addressed them 
 with all the dignity of Malvolio himself. — "My masters — 
 not forgetting you, my mistresses — do not think the worse ot 
 me that I proceed with as much care as haste in this matter. 
 Our master is a gallant knight, and will have his sway at 
 home and abroad, in wood and field, in hall and bower, as 
 the gaying is. Our lady, my benison upom her ! is also a 
 
8ft WAVEBLEY NOVELS 
 
 noble person of long descent, and rightful heir of this place 
 and barony, and she also loves her will ; as for that matter, 
 show me the woman who doth not. Now, she hath favored, 
 doth favor, and will favor this jackanapes, for what good 
 part about him I know not, save that as one noble lady will 
 love a messan dog, and another a screaming popinjay, and a 
 third a barbary ape, so doth it please our noble dame to set 
 her affections upon this stray elf of a page, for nought that 
 [ can think of, save that she was the cause of his being 
 saved — the more's the pity — from drowning/^ And here 
 Master Wingate made a pause. 
 
 " I would have been his caution for a gray groat, against 
 salt water or fresh,'* said Roland's adversary, the falconer ; 
 "marry, if he crack not a rope for stabbing or for snatch- 
 ing, I will be content never to hood hawk again." 
 
 '^ Peace, Adam Woodcock," said Wingate, waving his hand 
 — '' I prithee, peace, man. Now, my lady, liking this sprin- 
 gald, as aforesaid, differs therein from my lord, who loves 
 never a bone in his skin. Now, is it for me to stir up strife be- 
 twixt them, and put as 'twere my finger betwixt the bark and 
 the tree, on account of a pragmatical youngster, whom, never- 
 theless, I would willingly see whipped forth of the barony ? 
 Have patience, and this boil will break without our med- 
 dling. I have been in service since I wore a beard on my 
 chin, till now that that beard is turned gray, and I have sel- 
 dom known any one better themselves even by taking the 
 lady's part against the lord's ; but never one who did not 
 dirk himself if he took the lord's against the lady's." 
 
 *' And so," said Lilias, " we are to be crowed over, e^^ery 
 one of us, men and women, cock and hen, by this little up- 
 start ? I will try titles with him first, I promise you. I 
 fancy. Master Wingate, for as wise as you look, you will be 
 pleased to tell what you have seen to-day, if my lady com- 
 mauds you ?" 
 
 '' To speak the truth when my lady commands me," an- 
 swered the prudential major-domo, ''is in some measure my 
 duty. Mistress Lilias ; always providing for and excepting 
 those cases in which it cannot be spoken without breeding 
 mischief and inconvenience to myself or my fellow-servants ; 
 for the tongue of a tale-bearer breaketh bones as well as a 
 Jeddart staff." 
 
 ** But this imp of Satan is none of your friends or fellow- 
 servants," said Lilias ; " and I trust you mean not to stand 
 up for him against the whole family besides ? " 
 
 ** Credit me, Mrs, Lilias," replied the senior, " should I 
 
THS ABBOT 87 
 
 Bee the time fitting, I would with right good-will give him a 
 lick with the rough side of my tongue/' 
 
 " Enough said. Master Wingate," answered Lilias ; ** then 
 trust me, his song shall soon be laid. If my mistress does 
 not ask me what is the matter below stairs before she be ten 
 minutes of time older, she is no born woman, and my name 
 is not Lilias Bradbourne/' 
 
 In pursuance of her plan. Mistress Lilias failed not to pre- 
 sent herself before her mistress with all the exterior of one 
 who is possessed of an important secret — that is, she had the 
 corners of her mouth turned down, her eyes raised up, her 
 lips pressed as fast together as if they had been sewed up, to 
 prevent her blabbing, and an air of prim mystical importance 
 diffused over her whole person and demeanor, which seemed 
 to intimate, *' I know something which I am resolved not to 
 tell you!" 
 
 Lilias had rightly read her mistress's temper, who, wise 
 and good as she was, was yet a daughter of grandame Eve, 
 and could not witness this mysterious bearing on the part of 
 her waiting- woman without longing to ascertain the secret 
 cause. For a space, Mrs. Lilias was obdurate to all inquiries, 
 sighed, turned her eyes up higher yet to Heaven, hoped for 
 the best, but had nothing particular to communicate. All 
 this, as was most natural and proper, only stimulated the 
 lady's curiosity ; neither was her importunity to be parried 
 with — " Thank God, I am no makebate — no tale-bearer — 
 thank God, I never envied any one's favor, or was anxious 
 to propale their misdemeanor — only, thank God, there has 
 been no bloodshed and murder in the house — that is all." 
 
 " Bloodshed and murder!" exclaimed the lady, ^^ what 
 does the quean mean ? If you speak not plain out, you shall 
 have something you will scarce be thankful for." 
 
 '' Nay, my lady," answered Lilias, eager to disburden her 
 mind, or, in Chaucer's phrase, to ''unbuckle her mail," ''if 
 you bid me speak out the truth, you must not be moved 
 with what might displease you : Eoland Graeme has dirked 
 Adam Woodcock — that is all." 
 
 " Good Heaven !" said the lady, turning pale as ashes, 
 " is the man slain ? " 
 
 " No, madam," replied Lilias, " but slain he would have 
 been if there had not been ready help ; but maybe it is 
 your lady ship's pleasure that this young esquire shall pon- 
 iard the servants, as well as switch and baton them ? " 
 
 " Go to, minion," said the lady, " you are saucy ; tell the 
 master of the household to attend me instantly." 
 
m WAvt:nLEr NOVELS 
 
 Lilias hastened to seek out Mr. Wiiigate, and hurry him 
 to his lady's presence, speaking as a word in season to him on 
 the way, '* I have set the stone a-trowling, look that you do 
 not let it stand still/' 
 
 The steward, too prudential a person to commit himself 
 otherwise, answered by a sly look and a nod of intelligence, 
 and presently after stood in the presence of the Lady of 
 Avenel, with a look of great respect for his lady, partly real, 
 partly affected, and an air of great sagacity, which inferred 
 no ordinary conceit of himself. 
 
 " How is this, Wingate/' said the lady, ** and what rule 
 do you keep in the castle, that the domestics of Sir Halbert 
 Glendinning draw the dagger on each other as in a cavern of 
 thieves and murderers ? Is the wounded man much hurt ? 
 and what — what hath become of the unhappy boy ? " 
 
 ** There is no one wounded as yet, madam,'' replied he of 
 the golden chain ; " it passes my poor skill to say how many 
 may be wounded before Pasche, if some rule be not taken 
 with this youth ; not but the youth is a fair youth," he added, 
 correcting himself, " and able at his exercise ; but somewhat 
 too ready with the ends of his fingers, the butt of his riding- 
 switch, and the point of his dagger." 
 
 *^ And whose fault is that," said the lady, "but yours, who 
 should have taught him better discipline than to brawl or to 
 draw his dagger ? " 
 
 *' If it please your ladyship so to impose the blame on me." 
 answered the steward, " it is my part, doubtless, to bear it ; 
 only I submit to your consideration that, unless I nailed his 
 weapon to the scabbard, I could no more keep it still than I 
 could fix quicksilver, which defied even the skill of Raymond 
 Lullius." 
 
 '' Tell me not of Raymond Lullius," said the lady, losing 
 patience, ^' but send me the chaplain hither. You grow all 
 of you too wise for me during your lord's long and repeated 
 absence. I would to God his affairs would permit him to 
 remain at home and rule his own household, for it passes my 
 wit and skill ! " 
 
 '* God forbid, my lady ! " said the old domestic, " that 
 you should sincerely think what you are now pleased to say : 
 your old servants might well hope that, after so many years' 
 duty,you would do their service more justice than to distrust 
 their gray hairs, because they cannot rule the peevish humor 
 of a green head, which the owner carries, it may be, a brace 
 of inches higher than becomes him." 
 
 " Leave me," said the lady ; ''Sir Halbert's return must 
 
THE ABBOT 3» 
 
 now be expected daily, and he will look into these matters 
 himself — leave me, I say, Wingate, without saying more 
 of it. I know you are honest, and I believe the boy is petu- 
 lant ; and yet I think it is my favor which hath set all of 
 you against him/' 
 
 The steward bowed and retired, after having been silenced 
 in a second attempt to explain the motives on which he 
 acted. 
 
 The chaplain arrived ; but neither from him did the lady 
 receive much comfort. On the contrary, she found him dis- 
 posed, in plain terms, to lay to the door of her indulgence 
 all the disturbances which the fiery temper of Roland Graeme 
 had already occasioned, or might hereafter occasion, in the 
 family. *'l would,'' he said, ** honored lady, that you had 
 deigned to be ruled by me in the outset of this matter, sith 
 it is easy to stem evil in the fountain, but hard to struggle 
 against it in the stream. You honored madam — a word which 
 I do not use according to the vain forms of this world, but 
 because I have ever loved and honored you as an honorable 
 and an elect lady — you, I say, madam, have been pleased, 
 contrary to my poor but earnest counsel, to raise this boy 
 from his station into one approaching to your own." 
 
 '* What mean you, reverend sir ?" said the lady. *' I have 
 made this youth a page ; is there aught in my doing so that 
 does not become my character and quality ? 
 
 ** I dispute not, madam," said the pertinacious preacher, 
 ** your benevolent purpose in taking charge of this youth, or 
 your title to give him this idle character of page, if such was 
 your pleasure ; though what thfe education of a boy in the 
 train of a female can tend to, save to ingraft foppery and 
 effeminacy on conceit and arrogance, it passes my knowledge 
 to discover. But I blame you more directly for having taken 
 little care to guard him against the perils of his condition, or 
 to tame and humble a spirit naturally haughty, overbearing, 
 and impatient. You have brought into your bower a lion's 
 cub ; delighted with the beauty of his fur, and the grace of 
 his gambols, you have bound him with no fetters befitting the 
 fierceness of his disposition. You have let him grow up as 
 unawed as if he had been still a tenant of the forest, and now 
 you are surprised, and call out for assistance, when he begins 
 to ramp, rend, and tear, according to his proper nature." 
 
 ** Mr. Warden," said the lady, considerably offended, " yon 
 are my husband's ancient friend, and I believe your love sin- 
 cere to him and to his household. Yet let me say, that when 
 I asked you for counsel, I expected not this asperity of rebuke. 
 
40 WAVERLET NOVELS 
 
 If I have done wrong in loving this poor orphan lad more 
 than others of his class, I scarce think the error merited such 
 severe censure ; and if stricter discipline were required to 
 keep his fiery temper in order, it ought, I think, to be con- 
 sidered that I am a woman, and that, if I have erred in this 
 matter, it becomes a friend's part rather to aid than to re- 
 buke me. I would these evils were taken order with before 
 my lord's return. He loves not domestic discord or domestic 
 brawls ; and I would not willingly that he thought such could 
 arise from one whom I have favored. What do you counsel 
 me to do ? " 
 
 '' Dismiss this youth from your service, madam,'' replied 
 the preacher. 
 
 ''You cannot bid me do so/' said the lady — ''you cannot, 
 as a Christian and a man of humanity, bid me turn away an 
 unprotected creature against whom my favor — my injudicious 
 favor, if you will — has reared up so many enemies." 
 
 " It is not necessary you should altogether abandon him, 
 though you dismiss him to another service, or to a calling 
 better suiting his station and character," said the preacher ; 
 " elsewhere he may be an useful and profitable member of 
 the common-weal ; here he is but a makebate and a stumbling- 
 block of offense. The youth has snatches of sense and of in- 
 telligence, though he lacks industry. I will myself give him 
 letters commendatory to Olearius Schinderhausen, a learned 
 professor at the famous university of Leyden, where they lack 
 an under-janitor ; where, besides gratis instruction, if God 
 give him the grace to seek it, he will enjoy five marks by the 
 year, and the professor's cast-off suit, which he disparts with 
 biennially." 
 
 " This will never do, good Mr. Warden," said the lady, 
 scarce able to suppress a smile ; " we will think more at large 
 upon this matter. In the meanwhile, I trust to your remon- 
 strances with this wild boy and with the family for restrain- 
 ing these violent and unseemly jealousies and bursts of 
 passion ; and I entreat you to press on him and them their 
 duty in this respect towards God and towards their master." 
 
 "You shall be obeyed, madam," said Warden. " On the 
 next Thursday I exhort the family, and will, with God's 
 blessing, so wrestle with the demon of wrath and violence 
 which hath entered into my little flock that I trust to hound 
 the wolf out of the fold, as if he were chased away with ban- 
 dogs." 
 
 This was the part of the conference from which Mr. 
 Warden derived the greatest pleasure. The pulpit wus at 
 
THE ABBOT 41 
 
 that time the same powerful engine for affecting popular 
 feeling which the press has since become, and he had been 
 no unsuccessful preacher, as we have already seen. It fol- 
 lowed as a natural consequence that he rather over-estimated 
 the powers of his own oratory, and, like some of his brethren 
 about the period, was glad of an opportunity to handle any 
 matters of importance, whether public and private, the dis- 
 cussion of which could be dragged into his discourse. In 
 that rude age the delicacy was unknown which prescribed 
 time and place to personal exhortations ; and as the court 
 preacher often addressed the king individually, and dictated 
 to him the conduct he ought to observe in matters of state, 
 so the nobleman himself, or any of his retainers, were 
 in the chapel of the feudal castle, often incensed or ap- 
 palled, as the case might be, by the discussion of their 
 private faults in the evening exercise, and by spiritual 
 censures directed against them specifically, personally, and 
 by name. 
 
 The sermon by means of which Henry Warden proposed 
 to restore concord and good .order to the Castle of Avenel 
 bore for text the well-known words, '' He who striketh with 
 the sword shall perish by the sword," and was a singular 
 mixture of good sense and powerful oratory with pedantry 
 and bad taste. He enlarged a good deal on the word 
 " striketh," which he assured his hearers comprehended 
 blows given with the point as well as with the edge, and 
 more generally shooting with hand-gun, cross-bow or long- 
 bow, thrusting with a lance, or doing anything whatever by 
 which death might be occasioned to the adversary. In the 
 same manner, he, proved satisfactorily that the word " sword " 
 comprehended all descriptions, whether backsword or bas- 
 ket-hilt, cut-and-thrust or rapier, falchion or scimitar. 
 " But if," he continued, with still greater animation, " the 
 text includeth in its anathema those who strike with any of 
 those weapons which man hath devised for the exercise of 
 his open hostility, still more doth it comprehend such as 
 from their form and size are devised rather for the gratifi- 
 cation of privy malice by treachery than for the destruction 
 of an enemy prepared and standing upon his defense. Such," 
 he proceeded, looking sternly at the place where the page 
 was seated on a cushion at the feet of his mistress, and 
 wearing in his crimson belt a gay dagger with a gilded hilt 
 — " such, more especially, I hold to be those implements of 
 death which, in our modern and fantastic times, are worn 
 not only by thieves and cut-throats, to whom they most 
 
 /- i 
 
12 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 properly belong, but even by those who attend upon women, 
 and wait in the chambers of honorable ladies. Yes, my 
 friends, every species of this unhappy weapon, framed for 
 all evil and for no good, is comprehended under this deadly 
 denunciation : whether it be a stilet, which we have bor- 
 rowed from the treacherous Italian, or a dirk, which is borne 
 by the savage Highlandmen, or a whinger, which is carried 
 by our own Border thieves and cut-throats, or a dudgeon- 
 dagger, all are alike engines invented by the devil himself, 
 for ready implements of deadly wrath, sudden to execute, 
 and difficult to be parried. Even the common sword-and- 
 buckler brawler despises the use of such a treacherous and 
 malignant instrument, which is therefore fit to be used, not 
 by men or soldiers, but by those who, trained under female 
 discipline, become themselves effeminate hermaphrodites, 
 having female spite and female cowardice added to the in- 
 firmities and evil passions of their masculine nature.'' 
 
 The effect which this oration produced upon the assembled 
 congregation of Avenel cannot very easily be described. The 
 lady seemed at once embarrassed and offended ; the menials 
 could hardly contain, under an affectation of deep attention, 
 the joy with which they heard the chaplain launch his thun- 
 ders at the head of the unpopular favorite, and the weapon 
 which they considered as a badge of affectation and finery. 
 Mrs. Lilias crested and drew up her head with all the deep- 
 felt pride of gratified resentment ; while the steward, ob- 
 serving a strict neutrality of aspect, fixed his eyes upon an 
 old scutcheon on the opposite side of the wall, which he 
 seemed to examine with the utmost accuracy, more willing, 
 perhaps, to incur the censure of being inattentive to the 
 sermon than that of seeming to listen with marked approba- 
 tion to what appeared so distasteful to his mistress. 
 
 The unfortunate subject of the harangue, whom nature 
 had endowed with passions which had hitherto found no 
 effectual restraint, could not disguise the resentment which 
 he felt at being thus directly held up to the scorn, as well 
 as the censure, of the assembled inhabitants of the little 
 world in which he lived. His brow grew red — his lip grew 
 pale — he set his teeth — he clenched his hand, and then with 
 mechanical readiness grasped the weapon of which the 
 clergyman had given so hideous a character ; and at length, 
 as the preacher heightened the coloring of his invective, he 
 felt his rage become so ungovernable that, fearful of being 
 hurried into some deed of desperate violence, he rose up, tra; 
 rersed the chapel with hasty steps, and left the congregation. 
 
THE ABBOT 48 
 
 The preacher was surprised into a sudden pause, while the 
 fiery youth shot across him like a flash of lightning, regard- 
 ing him as he passed, as if he had wished to dart from his 
 eyes the same power of blighting and of consuming. ' But no 
 sooner had he crossed the chapel, and shut with violence be- 
 hind him the door of the vaulted entrance by which it com- 
 municated with the castle, than the impropriety of his con- 
 duct supplied Warden with one of those happier subjects for 
 eloquence, of which he knew how to take advantage for 
 making a suitable impression on his hearers. He paused for 
 an instant, and then pronounced, in slovi^ and solemn voice, 
 the deep anathema : *' He hath gone out from us because he 
 was not of us : the sick man hath been offended at the 
 wholesome bitter of the medicine — the wounded patient hath 
 flinched from the friendly knife of the surgeon — the sheep 
 hath fled from the sheepfold and delivered himself to the 
 wolf, because he could not assume the quiet and humble 
 conduct demanded of us by the great Shepherd. Ah ! my 
 brethren, beware of wrath — beware of pride — beware of the 
 deadly and destroying sin which so often shows itself to our 
 frail eyes in the garments of light ! What is our earthly 
 honor ? Pride, and pride only. What our earthly gifts and 
 graces ? Pride and vanity. Voyagers speak of Indian men 
 who deck themselves with shells, and anoint themselves with 
 pigments, and boast of their attire as we do of our miserable 
 carnal advantages. Pride could draw down the morning- 
 star from Heaven even to the verge of the pit. Pride and 
 gelf-opinion kindled the flaming sword which waves us off 
 from Paradise. Pride made Adam mortal, and a weary 
 wanderer on the face of the earth which he had else been at 
 this day the immortal lord of. Pride brought amongst us 
 sin, and doubles every sin it has brought. It is the outpost 
 which the devil and the flesh most stubbornly maintain 
 against the assaults of grace ; and until it be subdued, and 
 its barriers leveled with the very earth, there is more hope 
 of a fool than of the sinner. Eend then, from your bosoms 
 this accursed shoot of the fatal apple : tear it up by the roots, 
 though it be twisted with the chords of your life. Profit by 
 the example of the miserable sinner that has passed from us, 
 and embrace the means of grace while it is called to-day — ere 
 your conscience is seared as with a firebrand, and your ears 
 deafened like those of the adder, and your heart hardened 
 like the nether millstone. Up, then, and be doing : wrestle 
 and overcome ; resist, and the enemy shall flee from you. 
 Watch and pray, lest ye fall into temptation, and let the 
 
 /^ 
 
U WA VERLEY NOVELS 
 
 Btumbling of others be your warning and your example. 
 Above all, rely not on yourselves, for such self-confidence is 
 even the worst symptom of the disorder itself. The Pharisee 
 perhaps deemed himself humble w^hile he stooped in the 
 Temple, and thanked God that he was not as other men, and 
 even as the publican. But while his knees touched the 
 marble pavement, his head was as high as the topmost pin- 
 nacle of the Temple. Do not therefore deceive yourselves, 
 and offer false coin, where the purest you can present is but 
 as dross : think not that such will pass the assay of Omnipo- 
 tent Wisdom. Yet shrink not from the task because, as 
 is my bounden duty, I do not disguise from you its difficul- 
 ties. Self-searching can do much — meditation can do much 
 — grace can do all."' 
 
 And he concluded with a touching and animating exhor- 
 tation to his hearers to seek Divine grace, w^hich is perfected, 
 in human weakness. 
 
 The audience did not listen to this address without being 
 consideraoly affected ; though it might be doubted whether 
 the feelings of triumph excited by the disgraceful retreat of 
 the favorite page did not greatly qualify in the minds of 
 many the exhortations of the preacher to charity and to 
 humility. And, in fact, the expression of their countenances 
 much resembled the satisfied, triumphant air of a set of 
 children, who, having just seen a companion punished for a 
 fault in which they had no share, con their task with double 
 glee, both because they themselves are out of the scrape and 
 because the culprit is in it. 
 
 With very different feelings did the Lady of Avenel seek 
 her own apartment. She felt angry at Warden having made 
 a domestic matter, in which she took a personal interest, the 
 subject of such public discussion. But this she knew the 
 good man claimed as a branch of his Christian liberty as a 
 preacher, and also that it was vindicated by the universal 
 custom of his brethren. But the self-willed conduct of her 
 protege afforded her yet deeper concern. That he had broken 
 through, in so remarkable a degree, not only the respect due 
 to her presence, but that which was paid to religious admon- 
 ition in those days with such peculiar reverence, argued a 
 spirit as untameable as his enemies had represented him to 
 possess. And yet, so far as he had been under her own eye, 
 she had seen no more of that fiery spirit than appeared to 
 her to become his years and his vivacity. This opinion 
 might be founded in some degree on partiality ; in some 
 degree, too, it might be owing to the kindness and indul- 
 
THE ABBOT 46 
 
 gence which she had always extended to him ; but still she 
 thought it impossible that she could be totally mistaken in 
 the estimate she had formed of his character. The extreme 
 of violence is scarce consistent with a course of continued 
 hypocrisy (although Lilias charitably hinted that in some in- 
 stances they were happily united), and therefore she could 
 not exactly trust the report of others against her own expe- 
 rience and observation. The thoughts of this orphan boy 
 clung to her heartstrings with a fondness for which she her- 
 self was unable to account. He had seemed to have been 
 sent to her by Heaven to fill up those intervals of languor 
 and vacuity which deprived her of much enjoyment. Per- 
 haps he was not less dear to her because she well saw that he 
 was a favorite with no one else, and because she felt that to 
 give him up was to afford the judgment of her husband and 
 others a triumph over her own — a circumstance not quite 
 indiff'erent to the best of spouses of either sex. 
 
 In short, the Lady of Avenel formed the internal resolu- 
 tion that she would not desert her page while her page could 
 be rationally protected ; and, with the view of ascertaining 
 how far this might be done, she caused him to be summoned 
 to her presence. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 In the wild storm, 
 The seaman hews his mast down, and t}ie merchant 
 Heaves to the billows wares he once deem'd precious; 
 So prince and peer' 'mid popular contentions, 
 Cast off their favorites. 
 
 Old Play. 
 
 It was some time ere Roland Graeme appeared. The mes- 
 senger (his old friend Lilias) had at first attempted to open 
 the door of his little apartment, with the charitable purpose, 
 doubtless, of enjoying the confusion, and marking the de- 
 meanor, of the culprit. But an oblong bit of iron, yclept a 
 bolt, was passed across the door on the inside, and prevented 
 her benign intentions. Lilias knocked, and called at intervals, 
 " Roland — Roland Graeme — Master Roland Graeme (an em- 
 phasis on the word '* Master ''), will you be pleased to undo 
 the door ? What ails you ? — are you at your prayers in 
 private, to complete the devotion which you left unfinished 
 in public ? Surely we must have a screened seat for you in 
 the chapel, that your gentility may be free from the eyes of 
 common folks ! " Still no whisper was heard in reply. 
 ** Well, Master Roland," said the waiting-maid, " I must tell 
 my mistress that, if she would have an answer, she must 
 either come herself or send those on errand to you who can 
 beat the door down.^' 
 
 *' What says your lady ? " inquired the page from within. 
 
 " Marry, open the door and you shall hear,'^ answered the 
 waiting-maid. ^' I trow it becomes my lady's message to be 
 listened to face to face ; and I will not, for your idle pleasure, 
 whistle it through a keyhole.'' 
 
 " Your mistress's name," said the page, opening the door, 
 '' is too fair a cover for your impertinence. What says my 
 lady ? " 
 
 '* That you will be pleased to come to her directly, in the 
 withdrawing-room," answered Lilias. '' I presume she has 
 some directions for you concerning the forms to be observed 
 in leaving chapel in future." 
 
 *' Say to my lady that I will directly wait on her," said 
 
 46 
 
THE ABBOT 47 
 
 the page ; and, returning into his own apartment, he once 
 more locked the door in the face of the waiting-maid. 
 
 " Rare courtesy ! '* muttered Lilias ; and, returning to her 
 mistress, acquainted her that Roland Graeme would wait on 
 her when it suited his convenience. 
 
 '* What ! is that his phrase or your own addition, Lilias ? '* 
 said the lady, coolly. 
 
 *'Nay, madam," replied the attendant, not directly an- 
 swering the question, " he looked as if he could have said 
 much more impertinent things than that, if I had been 
 willing to hear them. But here he comes to answer for 
 himself.'' 
 
 Roland Graeme entered the apartment with a loftier mien 
 and somewhat a higher color than his wont ; there was em- 
 barrassment in his manner, but it was neither that of fear 
 nor of penitence. 
 
 *' Young man,'' said the lady, *' what trow you am I to 
 think of your conduct this day ?" 
 
 " If it has offended you, madam, I am deeply grieved," 
 said the youth. 
 
 *' To have offended me alone," said the lady, ** were but 
 little. You have been guilty of conduct which will highly 
 offend your master — of violence to your fellow-servants, and 
 of disrespect to God Himself, in the person of His ambas- 
 sador." 
 
 ** Permit me again, to reply," said the page, '' that, if I 
 have offended my only mistress, friend, and benefactress, it 
 includes the sum of my guilt, and deserves the sum of my 
 penitence. Sir Halbert Glendinning calls me not servant, 
 nor do I call him master : he is not entitled to blame me for 
 chastising an insolent groom ; nor do I fear the wrath of 
 Heaven for treating with scorn the unauthorized interference 
 of a meddling preacher." 
 
 The Lady of Avenel had before this seen symptoms in her 
 favorite of boyish petulance and of impatience of censure or 
 reproof. But his present demeanor was of a graver and 
 more determined character, and she was for a moment at a 
 loss how she should treat the youth, who seemed to have at 
 once assumed the character not only of a man, but of a bold 
 and determined one. She paused an instant, and then as- 
 suming the dignity which was natural to her, she said, '' Is 
 it to me, Roland, that you hold this language ? Is it for the 
 purpose of making me repent the favor I have shown you 
 that you declare yourself independent both of an earthly and 
 a Heavenly nj aster ? Have you forgotten what you were. 
 
48 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 and to what the loss of my protection would speedily again 
 reduce you ?" 
 
 " Lady," said the page, '^ I have forgot nothing : I re- 
 member but too much. I know that, but for you, I should 
 have perished in yon blue waves/' pointing, as he spoke, to 
 the lake, which was seen through the window, agitated by 
 the western wind. '^ Your goodness has gone farther, ma- 
 dam : you have protected me against the malice of others, 
 and against my own folly. You are free, if you are willing, 
 to abandon the orphan you have reared. You have left 
 nothing undone by him, and he complains of nothing. And 
 yet, lady, do not think I have been ungrateful : I have endured 
 something on my part, which I would have borne for the 
 sake of no one but my benefactress." 
 
 *' For my sake ! " said the lady ; " and what is it that I 
 can have subjected you to endure, which can be remembered 
 with other feelings than those of thanks and gratitude ?" 
 
 '' You are too just, madam, to require me to be thankful 
 for the cold neglect with which your husband has uniformly 
 treated me — neglect not unmingled with fixed aversion. 
 You are too just, madam, to require me to be grateful for 
 the constant and unceasing marks of scorn and malevolence 
 with which I have been treated by others, or for such a 
 homily as that with which your reverend chaplain has, at 
 my expense, this very dav regaled the assembled house- 
 hold.'' 
 
 " Heard mortal ears the like of this ! " said the waiting- 
 maid, with her hands expanded, and her eyes turned up to 
 Heaven ; " he speaks as if he were son of an earl, or of a 
 belted knight the least penny ! " 
 
 The page glanced on her a look of supreme contempt, but 
 vouchsafed no other answer. His mistress, who began to 
 feel herself seriously offended, and yet sorry for the youth's 
 folly, took up the same tone. 
 
 ^'Indeed, Roland, you forget yourself so strangely," said 
 she, '' that you will tempt me to take serious measures to 
 lower you in your own opinion by reducing you to your 
 proper station in society." 
 
 " And that," added Lilias, " would be best done by turn- 
 ing him out the same beggar's brat that your ladyship took 
 him in." 
 
 " Lilias speaks too rudely," continued the lady, '' but she 
 has spoken the truth, young man ; nor do I think I ought 
 to spare that pride which hath so completely turned your 
 head. You haye been tricked up with fine garments, and 
 
THE ABBOT 49' 
 
 treated like the son of a gentleman, until you have forgot 
 the fountain of your churlish blood/' 
 
 '^ Craving your pardon, most honorable madam, Liliae 
 hath not spoken truth, nor does your ladyship know aught 
 of my descent which should entitle you to treat it with such 
 decided scorn. I am no beggar's brat : my grandmother 
 begged from no one, here nor elsewhere ; she would have 
 perished sooner on the bare moor. We were harried out 
 and driven from our home — a chance which has happed 
 elsewhere, and to others. Avenel Castle, with its lake and 
 its towers, was not at all times able to protect its inhabitantii 
 from want and desolation." 
 
 '^ Hear but his assurance ! '' said Lilias ; " he upbraids my 
 lady with the distresses of her family ! " 
 
 **^It had indeed been a theme more gratefully spared," 
 said the lady, affected nevertheless with the allusion. 
 
 " It was necessary, madam, for my vindication," said the 
 page, '' or I had not even hinted at a word that might give 
 you pain. But believe, honored lady, I am of no churl's 
 blood. My proper descent I know not ; but my only rela- 
 tion has said, and my heart has echoed it back and attested 
 the truth, that I am sprung of gentle blood, and deserve 
 gentle usage." 
 
 " And upon an assurance so vague as this," said the lady, 
 '^do you propose to expect all the regard, all the privileges, 
 befitting high rank and distinguished birth, and become a 
 contender for concessions which are only due to the noble ? 
 Go to, sir, know yourself, or the master of the household 
 shall make you know you are liable to the scourge as a mal- 
 apert boy. You have tasted too little the discipline fit for 
 your age and station." 
 
 *' The master of the household shall taste of my dagger 
 ere I taste of his discipline," said the page, giving way to his 
 restrained passion. ^^Lady, I have been too long the vassal 
 of a pantoufle, and the slave of a silver whistle. You must 
 henceforth find some other to answer your call ; and let him 
 be of birth and spirit mean enough to brook the scorn of 
 your menials and to call a church vassal his master." 
 
 ''I have deserved this insult," said the lady, coloring 
 deeply, " for so long enduring and fostering your petulance. 
 Begone, sir. Leave this castle to-night. I will send you 
 the means of subsistence till you find some honest mode of 
 support, though I fear your imaginary grandeur will be 
 above all others save those of rapine and violence. Begone, 
 sir, and see my face no more," 
 4 
 
fiO WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 The page threw himself at her feet in an agony of sor- 
 row. ** My dear and honored mistress *' he said, but 
 
 was unable to bring out another syllable. 
 
 ** Arise, sir,'* said the lady, *' and let go my mantle : 
 hypocrisy is a poor cloak for ingratitude." 
 
 ''I am incapable of either, madam," said the page, spring- 
 ing up with the hasty start of passion which belonged to his 
 rapid and impetuous temper. ** Think not I meant to im- 
 plore permission to reside here ; it has been long my deter- 
 mination to leave Avenel, and I will never forgive myself 
 for having permitted you to say the word * begone' ero I 
 said, ' I leave you.' 1 did but kneel to ask your forgiveness 
 for an ill-considered word used in the height of displeasure, 
 but which ill-became my mouth as addressed to you. Other 
 grace 1 asked not ; you have done much for me, but I re- 
 peat, that you better know what you yourself have done 
 than what I have suffered." 
 
 ** Roland," said the lady, somewhat appeased, and relent- 
 ing towards her favorite, ''you had me to appeal to when 
 you were aggrieved. You were neither called upon to suf- 
 fer wrong nor entitled to resent it when you were under my 
 protection." 
 
 '* And what," said the youth, '* if I sustained wrong from 
 those you loved and favored, was I to disturb your peace 
 with idle tale-bearings and eternal complaints ? No, madam ; 
 1 have borne my own burden in silence, and without dis- 
 turbing you with murmurs ; and the respect which you ac- 
 cuse me of wanting furnishes the only reason why I have 
 neither appealed to you nor taken vengeance at my own 
 hand in a manner far more effectual. It is well, however, 
 that we part. I was not born to be a stipendiary, favored 
 by his mistress until ruined by the calumnies of others. 
 May Heaven multiply its choicest blessings on your honored 
 head ; and, for your sake, upon all that are dear to 
 you!" 
 
 He was about to leave the apartment, when the lady called 
 upon him to return. He stood still, while she thus addressed 
 him : ** It was not my intention, nor would it be just, even 
 in the height of my displeasure, to dismiss you without the 
 means of support : take this purse of gold." 
 
 ** Forgive me, lady," said the boy, ''and let me go hence 
 with the consciousness that I have not been degraded to the 
 point of accepting alms. If my poor services can be placed 
 against the expense of my apparel and my maintenance, I 
 only remain debtor to you for my life, and that alone is n 
 
THE ABBOT 61 
 
 debt which I can never repay ; put up then that purse, and 
 only say instead that you do not part from me in anger." 
 
 " No, not in anger,'' said the lady, ** in sorrow rather for 
 your wilfulness ; but take the gold — ^you cannot but need it," 
 
 ** May God evermore bless you for the kind tone and the 
 kind word, but the gold I cannot take. I am able of body, 
 and do not lack friends so wholly as you may think ; for the 
 time may come that I may yet show myself more thankful 
 |-,han by mere words." He threw himself on his knees, kissed 
 the hand which she did not withdraw, and then hastily left 
 the apartment. 
 
 Lilias for a moment or two kept her eye fixed on her 
 mistress, who looked so unusually pale that she seemed about 
 to faint ; but the lady instantly recovered herself , and declin- 
 ing the assistance which her attendant offered her, walked 
 to her own apartment. 
 
^ 
 
 CHAPTEE VI 
 
 Thou hast each secret of the household, Francis. 
 I dare be sworn thou hast been in the buttery 
 Steeping thy curious humor in fat ale 
 And in the butler's tattle — ay, or chatting 
 With the glib waiting-woman o'er her comfits — 
 These bear the key to each domestic mystery 
 
 Old Play 
 
 Upon the morrow succeeding the scene we have described, the 
 disgraced favorite left the castle ; and. at breakfast-time the 
 cautious old steward and Mrs. Lilias sat in the apartment of 
 the latter personage, holding grave converse on the important 
 event of the day, sweetened by a small treat of comfits, to 
 which the providence of Mr. Wingate had added a little flask 
 of racy canary. 
 
 "He is gone at last,** said the abigail, sipping her glass ; 
 " and here is to his good journey/' 
 
 "Amen,** answered the steward, gravely; "I wish the 
 poor deserted lad no ill.** 
 
 " And he is gone like a wild duck, as he came,** continued 
 Mrs. Lilias ; "no lowering of drawbridges or pacing along 
 causeways for him. My master has pushed off in the boat 
 which they call the * Little Herod * (more shame to them 
 for giving the name of a Christian to wood and iron), and 
 has rowed himself by himself to the further side of the loch, 
 and off and away with himself, and left all his finery strewed 
 about his room. I wonder who is to clean his trumpery out 
 after him — though the things are worth lifting too.** 
 
 " Doubtless, Mrs. Lilias,** answered the master of the house- 
 hold ; "in the which case I am free to think they will not 
 long cumber the floor.** 
 
 " And now tell me, Mr. Wingate,** continued the damsel. 
 *' do not the very cockles of your heart rejoice at the house 
 being rid of this upstart whelp, that flung us all into 
 shadow ? ** 
 
 " Why, Mrs. Lilias,** replied Wingate, " as to rejoicing — 
 those who have lived as long in great families as has been, 
 my lot will be in no hurry to rejoice at anything. And for 
 Roland Graeme, though he may be a good riddance in the 
 
 62 
 
THE ABBOT 53 
 
 main, yet what says the very sooth proverb, ' Seldom comes 
 abetter/" 
 
 ''Seldom comes a better, indeed!" echoed Mrs. Lilias. 
 '' I say, never can come a worse, or one half so bad. He might 
 have been the ruin of our poor dear mietress (here she used 
 her kerchief), body and soul, and estate too ; for she spent 
 more coin on his apparel than on any four servants about 
 the house." 
 
 ''Mrs. Lilias," said the sage steward, "I do opine that our 
 mistress requireth not this pity at our hands, being in all 
 respects competent to take care of her own body, soul, and 
 estate into the bargain." 
 
 " You would not mayhap have said so," answered the 
 waiting-woman, " had you seen how like Lot's wife she looked 
 when young master took his leave. My mistress is a good 
 lady, and a virtuous, and a well-doing lady, and a well- 
 spoken of — but I would not Sir Halbert had seen her last 
 evening for two and a plack." ^ 
 
 " Oh, foy ! foy ! foy ! " reiterated the steward ; " servants 
 should hear and see, and say nothing. Besides that, my lady 
 is utterly devoted to Sir Halbert, as well she may, being, as 
 he is, the most renowned knight in these parts." 
 
 " Well — well," said the abigail, " I mean no more harm ; 
 but they that seek least renown abroad are most apt to find 
 quiet at home, that's all ; and my lady's lonesome situation 
 is to be considered, that made her fain to take up with the 
 first beggar's brat that a dog brought her out of the loch." 
 
 "And, therefore," said the steward, "I say, rejoice not 
 too much or too hastily, Mrs. Lilias ; for if your lady wished 
 a favorite to pass away the time, depend upon it, the time 
 will not pass lighter now that he is gone. So she will have 
 another favorite to choose for herself, and be assured, if 
 she wishes such a toy, she will not lack one." 
 
 " And where should she choose one, but among her own 
 tried and faithful servants," said Mrs. Lilias, " who have 
 broken her bread and drank her drink for so many years ? 
 I have known many a lady as high as she that never thought 
 either of a friend or favorite beyond their own waiting- 
 woman — always having a proper respect, at the same time, 
 for their old and faithful master of the household, Mr. 
 Wingate." 
 
 " Truly, Mrs. Lilias," replied the steward, " I do partly 
 see the mark at which you shoot, but I doubt your bolt will 
 fall short. Matters being with our lady as it likes you to 
 suppose it will neither be your crimped pinners, Mrs. Lilias 
 
f 
 54 WA VERLET NO VEL S 
 
 — speaking of them with due respect — nor my silver hair or 
 golden chain, that will fill up the void which Koland Graeme 
 must needs leave in our lady's leisure. There will be a learned 
 young divine with some new doctrine ; a learned leech with 
 some new drug ; a bold cavalier, who will not be refused the 
 favor of wearing her colors at a running at the ring ; a 
 cunning harper that could harp the heart out of a woman's 
 breast, as they say Signor David Kizzio did to our poor 
 Queen — these are the sort of folk who supply the loss of a 
 well-favored favorite, and not an old steward or a middle- 
 aged waiting- woman.*' 
 
 " Well,*' replied Lilias, "you have experience. Master 
 Wingate, and truly I would my master would leave off his 
 pricking hither and thither, and look better after the affairs 
 of his household. There will be a Papistrie among us next, 
 for what should I see among master's clothes but a string of 
 gold beads ? I promise you, aves and credos both ! I seized 
 on them like a falcon.'* 
 
 '* I doubt it not, — I doubt it not," said the steward, sa- 
 gaciously nodding his head ; '' I have often noticed that the 
 boy had strange observances which savored of Popery, and 
 that he was very jealous to conceal them. But you will find 
 the Catholic under the Presbyterian cloak as often as the 
 knave under the friar's hood — what then ? we are all mortal. 
 Right proper beads they are," he added, looking attentively 
 at them, "and may weigh four ounces of fine gold." 
 
 *' And I will have them melted down presently," she said, 
 "before they be the misguiding of some poor blinded soul." 
 
 " Very cautious, indeed, Mrs. Lilias," said the steward, 
 nodding his head in assent. 
 
 " I will have them made," said Mrs. Lilias, " into a pair 
 of shoe-buckles ; I would not wear the Pope's trinkets, or 
 whatever has once borne the shape of them, one inch above 
 my instep, were they diamonds instead of gold. But this i? 
 what has come of Father Ambrose coming about the castle, 
 as demure as a cat that is about to steal cream." 
 
 " Father Ambrose is our master's brother," said the 
 steward, gravely. 
 
 " Very true. Master Wingate," replied the dame ; " but is 
 that a good reason why he should pervert the king's liege 
 subjects to Papistrie ? " 
 
 " Heaven forbid, Mrs. Lilias," answered the sententious 
 major-domo ; " but yet there are worse folk than the Papists." 
 
 " I wonder where they are to be found," said the waiting- 
 woman, with some asperity ; " but I believe. Master Wingate^ 
 
THE ABBOT 55 
 
 if one were to speak to you about the devil himselt, you 
 would say there were worse people than Satan/' 
 
 *' Assuredly I might say so/' replied the steward, *' sup- 
 posing that 1 saw Satan standing at my elbow/' 
 
 The waiting- woman started, and having exclaimed, '* God 
 bless us ! " added, " I wonder, Mr. Wingate, you can take 
 pleasure in frightening one thus/' 
 
 ' ' Nay, Mrs. Lilias, I had no such purpose," was the reply ; 
 *'but look you here — the Papists are put down for the pres- 
 ent, but who knows how long this word ' present ' will 
 last ? There are two great Popish earls in the north of Eng- 
 land that abominate the very word * Reformation : ' I mean 
 the Northumberland and Westmoreland earls, men of power 
 enough to shake any throne in Christendom. Then, though 
 our Scottish King be, God bless him, a true Protestant, yet 
 he is but a boy ; and here is his mother that was our Queen 
 — I trust there is no harm to say God bless her toO' -and she 
 is a Catholic ; and many begin to think she has had but hard 
 measure, such as the Hamiltons in the west, and some of our 
 Border clans here, and the Gordons in the north, who are all 
 wishing to see a new world ; and if such a new world should 
 chance to come up, it is like that the Queen will take back 
 her own crown, and that the mass and the cross will come 
 up, and then down go pulpits, Genava gowns, and black silk 
 skull-caps." 
 
 *' And have you, Mr. Jasper Wingate, who have heard the 
 Word, and listened unto pure and precious Mr. Henry 
 Warden — have you, I say, the patience to speak, or but to 
 think, of Popery coming down on us like a storm, or of the 
 woman Mary again making the royal seat of Scotland a throne 
 of abomination ? No marvel that you are so civil to the 
 cowled monk. Father Ambrose, when he comes hither with 
 his downcast eyes that he never raises to my lady's face, and 
 with his low sweet-toned voice, and his henedicites, and his 
 benisons ; and who so ready to take them kindly as Mr. 
 Wingate ? " 
 
 '* Mrs. Lilias," replied the butler, with an air which was 
 intended to close the debate, '' there are reasons for all things. 
 If I received Father Ambrose debonairly, and suffered him 
 to steal a word now and then with this same Roland Graeme, 
 it was not that I cared a brass boddle for his benison or 
 malison either, but only because I respected my master's 
 blood. And who can answer, if Mary come in again, whether 
 he may not be as stout a tree to lean to as ever his brother 
 hath proved to us ? For down goes the Earl of Murray whra 
 
56 WAVEBLEY NOViLS^S 
 
 the Queen comes by her own again ; and good is his luck it 
 he can keep the head on his own shoulders. And down goea 
 our knight with the Earl, his patron ; and who so like to 
 mount into his empty saddle as this same Father Ambrose ? 
 The Pope of Eome can soon dispense with his vows, and 
 then we should have Sir Edward the soldier, instead of Am- 
 brose the priest/' 
 
 Anger and astonishment kept Mrs. Lilias silent, while her 
 old friend, in his self-complacent manner, was making knowu 
 to her his political speculations. At length her resentment 
 found utterance in words of great ire and scorn. ** What, 
 Master Wingate ! have you eaten my mistress's bread, to say 
 nothing of my master's, so many years, that you could live 
 to think of her being dispossessed of her own Castle of 
 Avenel by a wretched monk who is not a drop's blood to her 
 in the way of relation ? I, that am but a woman, would try 
 first whether my rock or his cowl were the better metal. 
 Shame on you. Master Wingate ! If I had not held you as 
 so old an acquaintance, this should have gone to my lady's 
 ears, though I had been called pickthank and tale-pyet for 
 my pains, as when I told of Roland Gragme shooting the wild 
 swan." 
 
 Master Wingate was somewhat dismayed at perceiving that 
 the details which he had given of his far-sighted political 
 views had produced on his hearer rather suspicion of his 
 fidelity than admiration of his wisdom, and endeavored as 
 hastily as possible to apoligize and to explain, although in- 
 ternally extremely offended at the unreasonable view, as he 
 deemed it. which it had pleased Mistress Lilias Bradbourna 
 to take of his expressions ; and mentally convinced that her 
 disapprobation of his sentiments arose solely out of the con- 
 sideration that, though Father Ambrose, supposing him to 
 become the master of the castle, would certainly require the 
 services of a steward, yet those of a waiting-woman would, 
 in the supposed circumstances, be altogether superfluous. 
 
 After this explanation had been received as explanations 
 usually are, the two friends separated ; Lilias to attend the 
 silver whistle which called her to her mistress's chamber, 
 and the sapient major-domo to the duties of his own depart- 
 ment. They parted with less than their usual degree of 
 reverence and regard ; for the steward felt that his worldly 
 wisdom was rebuked by the more disinterested attachment ot 
 the waiting-woman, and Mistress Lilias Bradbourne was com- 
 pelled to consider her old friend as something little bette? 
 than a time-saver. ^ 
 
CHAPTER Til 
 
 When I hae a saxpence under my thumb, 
 Then I get credit in ilka town ; 
 But when I am poor, they bid me gae by. 
 O poverty parts good company 1 
 
 Old Song, 
 
 While the departure of the page afforded subject for the 
 conversation which we have detailed in our last chapter, the 
 late favorite was far advanced on his solitary journey, with- 
 out well knowing what was its object, or what was likely to 
 be its end. He had rowed the skift* in which he left the 
 castle to the side of the lake most distant from the village, 
 with the desire of escaping from the notice of the inhabitants. 
 His pride whispered that he would be, in his discarded state, 
 only the subject of their wonder and compassion ; and his 
 generosity told him that any mark of sympathy which his 
 situation should excite might be unfavorably reported at the 
 castle. A trifling incident convinced him he had little to 
 fear for his friends on the latter score. He was met by a 
 young man some years older than himself, who had on for- 
 mer occasions been but too happy to be permitted to share 
 in his sports in the subordinate character of his assistant. 
 Ralph Fisher approached to greet him with all the alacrity 
 of an humble friend. 
 
 '^ What, Master Roland, abroad on this side, and without 
 either hawk or hound ? '' 
 
 " Hawk or hound," said Roland, '' I will never perhaps 
 halloo to again. I have been dismissed — that is, I have left 
 the castle." 
 
 Ralph was surprised. *' What ! you are to pass into the 
 knight's service, and take the black-jack and the lance ?" 
 
 " Indeed," replied Roland Graeme, '^ I am not ; I am now 
 leaving the service of Avenel forever." 
 
 ''And whither are you going then?" said the yonng 
 peasant. 
 
 '^Kay, that is a question which it craves time to answer : 
 I have that matter to determine yet," replied the disgraced 
 favorite. 
 
 ** Nay, nay,'* said Ralph, ** I warrant you it is the same to 
 
 W 
 
68 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 you which way you go : my lady would not dismiss you till 
 she had put some lining into the pouches of your doublet/' 
 
 '* Sordid slave !" said Roland Uraeme, '^dost thou think I 
 would have accepted a boon from one who was giving me 
 over a prey to detraction and to ruin, at the instigation of a 
 canting priest and a meddling serving- woman ? The bread 
 that I had bought with such an alms would have choked me 
 at the first mouthful/' 
 
 Ralph looked at his quondam friend with an air of wonder 
 not unmixed with contempt. ** Well/' he said at length, 
 **no occasion for passion — each man knows his own stomach 
 best ; but, were I on a black moor at this time of day, not 
 knowing whither I was going, I should be glad to have a 
 broad piece or two in my pouch, come by them as I could. 
 But perhaps you will go with me to my father's — that is, for 
 a night, for to-morrow we expect my uncle Menelaus and all 
 his folk ; but, as I said, for one night " 
 
 The cold-blooded limitation of the offered shelter to one 
 night only, and that tendered most unwillingly, offended the 
 pride of the discarded favorite. 
 
 ** I would rather sleep on the fresh heather, as I have done 
 many a night on less occasion," said Roland Graeme, *' than 
 in the smoky garret of your father, that smells of peat-smoke 
 and usquebaugh like a Highlander's plaid/' 
 
 ** You may choose, my master, if you are so nice," replied 
 Ralph Fisher ; *' you may be glad to smell a peat-fire, and 
 usquebaugh too, if you journey long in tne fashion you pro- 
 pose. You might have said ' God-a-mercy for your profler,' 
 though ; it is not every one will put themselves in the way of 
 ill-will by harboring a discarded serving-man/' 
 
 " Ralph," said Roland Graeme, *'I would pray you to re- 
 member that I have switched you before now, and this is the 
 same riding- wand which you have tasted." 
 
 Ralph, who was a thickset clownish figure, arrived at his 
 full strength, and conscious of the most complete personal 
 superiority, laughed contemptuously at the threats of the 
 slight-made stripling. 
 
 *' It may be the same wand," he said, '' but not the same 
 hand ; and that is as good rhyme as if it were in a ballad. 
 Look you, my lady's page that was, when your switch was 
 up, it was no fear of you, but of your betters, that kept 
 mine down ; and I wot not what hinders me from clearing 
 old scores with this hazel rung, and showing you it was your 
 lady's livery-coat which I spared, and not your flesh »nd 
 blood. Master Roland." 
 
THE ABBOT 59 
 
 In the midst of his rage, Roland Graeme was lust wise 
 enough to see that, by continuing this altercation, ne would 
 subject himself to very rude treatment from the boor, who 
 was so much older and stronger than himself; and while his 
 antagonist, with a sort of jeering laugh of defiance, seemed 
 to provoke the contest, he felt the full bitterness of his own 
 degraded condition, and burst into a passion of tears, which 
 he in vain endeavored to conceal with both his hands. 
 
 Even the rough churl was moved with the distress of his 
 quondam companion. 
 
 "Nay, Master Roland,*' he said, " I did but as 'twere jest 
 with thee ; I would not harm thee, man, were it but for old 
 acquaintance sake. But ever look to a man's inches ere you 
 talk of switching ; why, thine arm, man, is but like a 
 spindle compared to mine. But hark, I hear old Adam 
 Woodcock hallooing to his hawk. Come along, man, we 
 will have a merry afternoon, and go jollily to my father's, in 
 spite of the peat-smoke and usquebaugh to boot. Maybe we 
 may put you into some honest way of winning your bread, 
 though it's hard to come by in these broken times." 
 
 The unfortunate page made no answer, nor did he with- 
 draw his hands from his face, and Fisher continued in what 
 he imagined a suitable tone of comfort. 
 
 " Why, man, when you were my lady's minion, men held 
 you proud, and some thought you a Papist, and I wot not 
 what ; and so, now that you have no one to bear you out, 
 you must be companionable and hearty, and wait on the 
 minister's examinations, and put these things out of folks' 
 heads ; and if he says you are in fault, you must jouk your 
 head to the stream ; and if a gentleman, or a gentleman's 
 gentleman, gives you a rough word, or a light blow, you 
 must only say, ' Thank you for dusting my doublet,' or the 
 like, as I have done by you. But hark to Woodcock's 
 whistle again. Come, and I will teach you all the trick on't 
 as we go on." 
 
 "I thank you," said Roland Graeme, endeavoring to as- 
 sume an air of indifference and of superiority ; " but I have 
 another path before me, and were it otherwise, I could not 
 tread in yours." 
 
 *' Very true, Master Roland," replied the clown ; " and 
 every man knows his own matters best, and so I will not 
 keep you from the path, as you say. Give us a grip of your 
 hand, man, for auld lan^ syne. What ! not clap palms ere 
 we part ? — well, so be it — a wilful man will have his way, 
 and so farewell, and the blessing of the morning to you." 
 
BO WA VERLET NOVELS 
 
 *' Good-morrow — good-morrow/' said Roland, hastily ; 
 
 and the clown walked lightly off, whistling as he went, and 
 
 glad, apparently, to be rid of an acquaintance whose claims 
 
 might be troublesome, and who had no longer the means to 
 
 _be serviceable to him. 
 
 Roland Graeme compelled himself to walk on while they 
 were within sight of each other, that his former intimate 
 might not augur any vacillation of purpose, or uncertainty 
 of object, from his remaining on the same spot ; but the 
 effort was a painful one. He seemed stunned, as it were 
 and giddy ; the earth on which he stood felt as if unsound, 
 and quaking under his feet like the surface of a bog ; and he 
 had once or twice nearly fallen, though the path he trode 
 was of firm greensward. He kept resolutely moving forward, 
 in spite of the internal agitation to which these symptoms 
 belonged, until the distant form of his acquaintance disap- 
 peared behind the slope of a hill, when his heart failed at 
 once ; and, sitting down on the turf, remote from human 
 ken, he gave way to the natural expressions of wounded 
 pride, grief, and fear, and wept with unrestrained profusion 
 and unqualified bitterness. 
 
 When the first violent paroxysm of his feelings had sub- 
 sided, the deserted and friendless youth felt that mental 
 relief which usually follows such discharges of sorrow. The 
 tears continued to chase each other down his cheeks, but 
 they were no longer accompanied by the same sense of desola- 
 tion : an afflicting yet milder sentiment was awakened in his 
 mind by the recollection of his benefactress, of the unwearied 
 kindness which had attached her to him, in spite of many 
 acts of provoking petulance, now recollected as offenses of a 
 deep dye, which had protected him against the machinations 
 of others, as well as against the consequences of his own 
 folly, and would have continued to do so, had not the excess 
 of his presumption compelled her to withdraw her protec- 
 tion. 
 
 •' Whatever indignity I have borne," he said, '' has been 
 the just reward of my own ingratitude. And have I done 
 vvell to accept the hospitality, the more than maternal kind- 
 ness, of my protectress, yet to detain from her the knowledge 
 of my religion ? But she shall know that a Catholic has as 
 much gratitude as a Puritan ; that I have been thoughtless, 
 but not wicked ; that in my wildest moments I have loved, 
 respected, and honored her ; and that the orphan boy might 
 indeed be heedless, but was never ungrateful I" 
 
 He turned, as these thoughts passed through his mindp 
 
THE ABBOT 61 
 
 •nd began hastily to retread his footsteps towards the castle. 
 But he checked the first eagerness of his repentant haste 
 when he reflected on the scorn and contempt with which the 
 family were likely to see the return of the fugitive, humbled, 
 as they must necessarily suppose him, into a supplicant, who 
 requested pardon for his fault, and permission to return to 
 his service. He slackened his pace, but he stood not still. 
 
 *' I care not," he resolutely determined ; '^ let them wink, 
 point, nod, sneer, speak of the conceit which is humbled, of 
 the pride which has had a fall — I care not ; it is a penance 
 due to my folly, and I will endure it with patience. But 
 if she also, my benefactress — if she also should think 
 me sordid and weak-spirited enough to beg, not for her 
 pardon alone, but for a renewal of the advantages which I 
 derived from her favor — Jier suspicion of my meanness I 
 cannot — I will not brook." 
 
 He stood still, and his pride, rallying with constitutions! 
 obstinacy against his more just feeling, urged that he would 
 incur the scorn of the Lady of Avonel rather than obtain hei 
 favor by following the course which the first ardor of hifr 
 repentant feelings had dictated to him. 
 
 " If I had but some plausible pretext," he thought — 
 *' some ostensible reason for my return, some excuse to 
 allege which might show I came not as a degraded supplicant 
 or a discarded menial, I might go thither ; but as I am, I 
 cannot : my heart would leap from its place and burst." 
 
 As these thoughts swept through his mind, something 
 passed in the air so near him as to dazzle his eyes, and 
 almost to brush the plume in his cap. He looked up — it 
 was the favorite falcon of Sir Halbert, which, flying around 
 his head, seemed to claim his attention, as that of a well- 
 known friend. Roland extended his arm, and gave the 
 accustomed whoop, and the falcon instantly settled on his 
 wrist, and began to prune itself, glancing at the youth from 
 time to time an acute and brilliant beam of its hazel eye, 
 which seemed to ask why he caressed it not with his usual 
 fondness. 
 
 " Ah, Diamond !" he said, as if the bird understood him, 
 " thou and I must be strangers henceforward. Many a 
 gallant stoop have I seen thee make, and many a brave heron 
 strike down ; but that is all gone and over, and there is no 
 hawking more for me ! " 
 
 *' And why not. Master Roland," said Adam Woodcock, 
 the falconer, who came at that instant from behind a few 
 alder bushes which had concealed him from riew-^*' why 
 
82 WAVERLET NOVELS 
 
 should there be no more -hawking for yon? Why, man, 
 what were our life A^ithout our sports ? Thou know'st th« 
 jolly old song — 
 
 And rather would Allan in dungeon lie, 
 
 Than live at large where the falcon cannot fly ; 
 
 And Allan would rather lie in sexton's pound, 
 
 Than live where he foUow'd not the merry hawk and hound." 
 
 The voice of the falconer was hearty and friendly, and the 
 tone in which he half-sung, half-recited his rude ballad im- 
 plied honest frankness and cordiality. But remembrance oi 
 their quarrel, and its consequences, embarrassed Eoland, and 
 prevented his reply. The falconer saw his hesitation, and 
 guessed the cause. 
 
 ** What now,'' said he, *' Master Roland ? do you, who are 
 half an Englishman, think that I, who am a whole one, 
 would keep up anger against you, and you in distress ; 
 That were like some of the Scots — my master's reverence 
 always excepted — who can be fair and false, and wait their 
 time, and keep their mind, as they say, to themselves, and 
 touch pot and flagon with you, and hunt and hawk with you, 
 and, after all, when time serves, pay off some old feud with 
 the point of the dagger. Canny Yorkshire has no memory 
 for such old sores. Why, man, an you had hit me a rough 
 blow, maybe 1 would rather have taken it from you than a 
 rough word from another ; for you have a good notion ot 
 falconry, though you stand up for washing the meat for the 
 eyases. So give us your hand, man, and bear no malice." 
 
 Roland, though ho felt his proud blood rebel at the famil- 
 iarity of honest Adam's address, could not resist its down- 
 right frankness. Covering his face with the one hand, he 
 held out the other to the falconer, and returned with read- 
 iness his friendly grasp. 
 
 ** Why, this is hearty now,'* said Woodcock ; ''I always 
 said you had a kind heart, though you have a spice of the devil 
 in your disposition, that is certain. I came this way with the 
 falcon on purpose to find you, and yon half-bred lubbard told 
 me which way you took flight. You ever thought too much 
 of that kestril-kite. Master Roland, and he knows naught of 
 sport, after all, but what he caught from you. I saw how 
 it had been betwixt you, and I sent him out of my company 
 with a wanion ; I would rather have a rifler on my perch 
 than a false knave at my elbow. And now. Master Roland, 
 tell me what way wing ye ? " 
 
 '' That is as God pleases," replied the page, with a sigh 
 which he could not suppress. 
 
ma ABBOT 65 
 
 '* Nay, man, never droop a feather for being cast off," 
 Baid the falconer; "who knows but you may soar the better 
 and fairer flight for all this yet ? Look at Diamond there ; 
 'tis a noble bird, and shows gallantly with his hood and bells 
 and jesses ; but there is many a wild falcon in Norway that 
 would not change properties with him. And that is what I 
 would say of you. You are no longer my lady's page, and 
 you will not clothe so fair, or feed so well, or sleep so soft, 
 or show so gallant. What of all that ? if you are not her 
 page, you are your own man, and may go where you will, 
 without minding whoop or whistle. The worst is the loss of 
 the sport, but who knows what you may come to ? They 
 say that Sir Halbert himself — I speak with reverence — was 
 once glad to be the abbot's forester, and now he has hounds 
 and hawks of his own, and Adam Woodcock for a falconer 
 to the boot.'' 
 
 " You are right, and say well, Adam," answered the youth, 
 the blood mantling in his cheeks : " the falcon will soar 
 higher without his bells than with them, though the bells be 
 made of silver." 
 
 " That is cheerily spoken," replied the falconer ; " and 
 whither now ? " 
 
 " I thought of going to the Abbey of Kennaquhair," an- 
 swered Roland Graeme, ''to ask the counsel of Father 
 Ambrose." 
 
 " And joy go with you," said the falconer, ''though it is 
 likely you may find the old monks in some sorrow : they say 
 the commons are threatening to turn them out of their cells, 
 and make a devil's mass of it in the old church, thinking 
 they have forborne that sport too long ; and troth I am clear 
 of the same opinion." 
 
 " Then will Father Ambrose be the better of having a 
 friend beside him ! " said the page, manfully. 
 
 "Ay, but, my young fearnaught," replied a falconer, 
 " the friend will scarce be the better of being beside Father 
 Ambrose : he may come by the redder's lick, and that is ever 
 the worst of the battle." 
 
 " I care not for that," said the page ; "the dread of a lick 
 should not hold me back ; but I fear I may bring trouble 
 between the brothers by visiting Father Ambrose. I will 
 tarry to-night at St. Cuthbert's cell, where the old priest 
 will" give me a night's shelter ; and I will send to Father 
 Ambrose to ask his advice before I go down to the convent." 
 
 "By Our Lady," said the falconer, "and that is a likely 
 plan I And now," he continued, changing his frankness of 
 
64 WA VEBLET NOVELS 
 
 manner for a sort of awkward embarrassment, as if he had 
 somewhat to say that he had no ready means to bring out — 
 •' and now, yon wot well that I wear a pouch for my hawks' 
 meat,* and so forth, but wot ye what it is lined with. Master 
 Roland?" 
 
 '' With leather, to be sure,^' replied Eoland, somewhat sur- 
 prised at the hesitation with which Adam Woodcock asked 
 a question apparently so simple. 
 
 '' With leather, lad ?" said Woodcock ; *'ay, and with sil- 
 ver to the boot of that. See here," he said, showing a secret 
 slit in the lining of his bag of office — '^here they are, thirty 
 good Harry groats as ever were struck in bluff old HaFs time, 
 and ton of them are right heartily at your service ; and now 
 the murder is out." 
 
 Roland's first idea was to refuse this assistance ; but he 
 recollected the vows of humility which he had just taken 
 upon him, and it occurred that this was the opportunity to 
 put his new-formed resolution to the test. Assuming a 
 strong command of himself, he answered Adam Woodcock 
 with as much frankness as his nature permitted him to wear, 
 in doing what was so contrary to his inclinations, that he 
 accepted thankfully of his kind offer, while to soothe his 
 own reviving pride, he could not help adding, ^' He hoped 
 soon to requite the obligation." 
 
 *' That as you list — that as you list, young man," said the 
 falconer, with glee, counting out and delivering to his young 
 friend the supply he had so generously offered, and then add- 
 ing with great cheerfulness — " Now you may go through the 
 world ; for he that can back a horse, wind a horn, halloo a 
 greyhound, fly a hawk, and play at sword and buckler, with 
 a whole pair of shoes, a green jacket, and ten lily-white 
 groats in his pouch, may bid Father Care hang himself in 
 his own jesses. Farewell, and God be with you ! " 
 
 So saying, and as if desirous to avoid the thanks of hia 
 companion, he turned hastily round, and left Roland Graeme 
 to pursue his journey alone. 
 
 ♦ See Bag for Hawks' Meat. Note 2. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 The sacred tapers' lights are gone, 
 Gray moss has clad the altar stone, 
 The holy image is o'erthrown, 
 
 The bell has ceased to toll. 
 The long ribb'd aisles are burst and shrunk. 
 The holy shrines to ruin sunk, 
 Departed is the pious monk, 
 
 God's blessing on his soul ! 
 
 Rediviva, 
 
 The cell of St. Cuthbert, as it was called, marked, or 
 was supposed to mark, one of those resting-places which 
 that venerable saint was pleased to assign to his monks, 
 when his convent, being driven from Lindisfern by the 
 Danes, became a peripatetic society of religionists, and, 
 bearing their patron's body on their shoulders, transported 
 him from place to place through Scotland and the borders 
 of England, until he was pleased at length to spare them the 
 pain of carrying him farther, and to choose his ultimate 
 place of rest in the lordly towers of Durham. The odor of 
 his sanctity remained behind him at each place where he 
 had granted the monks a transient respite from their labors ; 
 and proud were those who could assign as his temporary rest- 
 ing-place any spot within their vicinity. There were few 
 cells more celebrated and honored than that of St. Cuthbert, 
 to which Roland Graeme now bent his way, situated consid- 
 erably to the northwest of the great Abbey of Kennaquhair, 
 on which it was dependent. In the neighborhood were 
 some of those recommendations which weighed with the ex- 
 perienced priesthood of Rome in choosing their sites for 
 places of religion. 
 
 There was a well, possessed of some medicinal qualities, 
 which, of course, claimed the saint for its guardian and pa- 
 tron, and occasionally produced some advantage to the re- 
 cluse who inhabited his cell, since none could reasonably 
 expect to benefit by the fountain who did not extend their 
 bounty to the saint's chaplain. A few roods of fertile land 
 afforded the monk his plot of garden ground ; an eminence well 
 clothed with trees rose behind the cell, and sheltered it from 
 
 8ft 
 
36 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 the nortli and the east, while the front, opening to the 
 southwest, looked up a wild but pleasant valley, down vrhich 
 wandered a lively brook, which battled with every stone that 
 interrupted its passage. 
 
 The cell itself was rather plainly than rudely constructed 
 — a low Gothic building with two small apartments, one of 
 which served the priest for his dwelling-place, the other for 
 his chapel. As there were few of the secular clergy who 
 durst venture to reside so near the Border, the assistance of 
 this monk in spiritual affairs had not been useless to the 
 community while the Catholic religion retained the ascend- 
 ency, as he could marry, christen, and administer the other 
 sacraments of the Eoman Church. Of late, however, as the 
 Protestant doctrines gained ground, he had found it con- 
 venient to live in close retirement, and to avoid, as much 
 as possible, drawing upon himself observation or animad- 
 version. The appearance of his habitation, however, when 
 Roland Graeme came before it in the close of the evening, 
 plainly showed that his caution had been finally ineffectual. 
 
 The pager's first movement was to knock at the door, when 
 he observed, to his surprise, that it was open, not from 
 being left unlatched, but because, beat off its upper hinge, 
 it was only fastened to the door-post by the lower, and 
 could therefore no longer perform its functions. Somewhat 
 alarmed at this, and receiving no answer when he knocked 
 and called, Roland began to look more at leisure upon the 
 exterior of the little dwelling, before he ventured to enter 
 it. The flowers, which had been trained with care 
 against the walls, seemed to have been recently torn down, 
 and trailed their dishonored garlands on the earth ; the 
 latticed window was broken and dashed in. The garden, 
 which the monk had maintained by his constant labor in 
 the highest order and beauty, bore marks of having been 
 lately trod down and destroyed by the hoofs of animals and 
 the feet of men. 
 
 The sainted spring had not escaped. It was wont to rise 
 beneath a canopy of ribbed arches, with which the devotion 
 of elder times had secured and protected its healing waters. 
 These arches were now almost entirely demolished, and the 
 stones of which they were built were tumbled into the well, 
 as if for the purpose of choking up and destroying the 
 fountain, which, as it had shared in other days the honor of 
 the saint, was, in the present, doomed to partake his un- 
 popularity. Part of the roof had been pulled down from 
 the house itself, and an attempt had been made with crowi 
 
THE ABBOT 67 
 
 and levers upon one of the angles, by which several 
 large corner-stones had been forced out of their place ; but 
 the solidity of ancient masonwork had proved too great for 
 the time or patience of the assailants, and they had re- 
 linquished their task of destruction. Such dilapidated 
 buildings, after the lapse of years, during which nature has 
 gradually covered the effects of violence with creeping plants 
 and with weather-stains, exhibit, amid their decay, a mel- 
 ancholy beauty. But when the visible effects of violence ap 
 pear raw and recent there is no feeling to mitigate the sense 
 of devastation with which they impress the spectators ; and 
 such was now the scene on which the youthful page gazed, 
 with the painful feelings it was qualified to excite. 
 
 When his first momentary surprise was over, Eoland Graeme 
 was at no loss to conjecture the cause of these ravages. The 
 destruction of the Popish edifices did not take place at once 
 throughout Scotland, but at different times, and according 
 to the spirit which actuated the Reformed clergy, some of 
 whom instigated their hearers to these acts of demolition, 
 and others, with better taste and feelings, endeavored to 
 protect the ancient shrines, while they desired to see them 
 purified from the objects which had attracted idolatrous de- 
 votion. From time to time, therefore, the populace of the 
 Scottish towns and villages, when instigated either by their 
 own feelings of abhorrence for Popish superstition or by 
 the doctrines of the more zealous preachers, resumed the 
 work of destruction, and exercised it upon some sequestered 
 church, chapel, or cell, which had escaped the first burst of 
 their indignation against the religion of Rome. In many 
 places, the vices of the Catholic clergy, arising out of the 
 wealth and the corruption of that tremendous hierarchy, fur- 
 nished too good an apology for wreaking vengeance upon the 
 splendid edifices which they inhabited ; and of this an old 
 Scottish historian gives a remarkable instance. 
 
 " Why mourn ye,'^ said an aged matron, seeing the dis- 
 content of some of the citizens while a stately convent was 
 burnt by the multitude — ^' why mourn ye for its destruction ? 
 If you knew half the flagitious wickedness which had been 
 perpetrated within that house, you would rather bless the 
 Bivine judgment which permits not even the senseless walls 
 that screened such profligacy any longer to cumber Christian 
 ground ! " 
 
 But although, in many instances, the destruction of the 
 Roman Catholic buildings might be, in the matron's way of 
 judging, an act of justice, and in others an act of policy. 
 
68 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 there is no doubt that the humor of demolishing rnonu* 
 ments of ancient piety and munificence, and that in a 
 poor country like Scotland, where there was no chance ol 
 their being replaced, was both useless, mischievous, and 
 barbarous. 
 
 In the presence instance, the unpretending and quiet se- 
 clusion of the monk of Sfc Cuthbert's had hitherto saved him 
 from the general wreck ; but it would seem ruin had now at 
 length reached him. Anxious to discover if he had at least 
 escaped personal harm, Koland Grasme entered the half -ruined 
 cell. 
 
 The interior of the building was in a state which fully 
 Tustified the opinion he had formed from its external injuries. 
 The few rude utensils of the solitary's hut were broken down, 
 and lay scattered on the floor, where it seemed as if a fire had 
 been made with some of the fragments to destroy the rest of 
 his property, and to consume, in particular, the rude old 
 image of St. Cuthbert, in its episcopal habit, which lay on 
 the hearth, like Dagon of yore, shattered with the ax and 
 scorched with the flames, but only partially destroyed. In 
 the little apartment which served as a chapel, the kltar was 
 overthrown, and the four huge stones of which it had been 
 once composed lay scattered around the floor. The larga 
 stone crucifix which occupied the niche behind the altar, 
 and fronted the supplicant while he paid his devotion there, 
 had been pulled down, and dashed by its own weight into 
 three fragments. There were marks of sledge-hammers on 
 each of these; yet the image had been saved from utter 
 demolition by the size and strength of the remaining frag- 
 ments, which, though much injured, retained enough of 
 the original sculpture to show what it had been intended to 
 represent.* 
 
 Koland Graeme, secretlj nursed in the tenets of Rome, saw 
 with horror the profanation of the most sacred emblem, ac- 
 cording to his creed, of our holy religion. 
 
 *' It is the badge of our redemption,'' he said, '' which the 
 felons have dared to violate ; would to God my weak strength 
 were able to replace it — my humble reverence to atone for 
 the sacrilege ! " 
 
 He stooped to the task he first meditated, and with a sud- 
 den, and to himself almost an incredible, exertion of power 
 he lifted up the one extremity of the lower shaft of the cross, 
 and rested it upon the edge of the large stone which served 
 for its pedestal. Encouraged by this success, he applied hia 
 * See CeU of St. Cuthbert. Note 3. 55,^ 
 
THE ABBOT 69 
 
 force to the otlier extremity, and, to his own astonishment, 
 succeeded so far as to erect the lower end of the limb into 
 the socket, out of which it had been forced, and to place 
 this fragment of the image upright. 
 
 While he was employed in this labor, or rather at the 
 very moment when he had accomplished the elevation of the 
 fragment, a voice, in thrilling and well-known accents, spoke 
 behind him these words : '' Well done, thou good and faith- 
 ful servant ! Thus would I again meet the child of my love 
 — the hope of my aged eyes." 
 
 Roland turned round in astonishment, and the tall com- 
 manding form of Magdalen G-raeme stood beside him. She 
 was arrayed in a sort of loose habit, in form like that worn 
 by penitents in Catholic countries, but black in color, and 
 approaching as near to a pilgrim's cloak as it was safe to wear 
 in a country where the suspicion of Catholic devotion in 
 many places endangered the safety of those who were sus- 
 pected of attachment io the ancient faith, Roland Graeme 
 threw himself at her feet. She raised and embraced him, 
 with affection indeed, but not unmixed with gravity which 
 amounted almost to sternness. 
 
 '' Thou has kept well,'' she said, " the bird in thy bosom.* 
 As a boy, as a youth, thou hast held fast thy faith amongst 
 heretics : thou hast kept thy secret and mine own amongst 
 thine enemies. I wept when I parted from you — I, who 
 seldom weep, then shed tears, less for thy death than for thy 
 spiritual danger. I dared not even see thee to bid thee a 
 last farewell; my grief — my swelling grief had betrayed me 
 to these heretics. But thou hast been faithful ; down — down 
 .on thy knees before the holy sign, which evil men injure and 
 blaspheme — down and praise saints and angels for the grace 
 they have done thee, in preserving thee from the leprous 
 plague which cleaves to the house in which thou wert nur- 
 tured!" 
 
 " If, my mother— so I must ever call you," replied Grasme 
 — ''if I am returned such as thou wouldst wish me, thou 
 must thank the care of the pious Father Ambrose, whose 
 instructions confirmed your early precepts, and taught me 
 at once to be faithful and to be silent." 
 
 '' Be he blessed for it ! " said she—'' blessed in the cell and 
 in the field, in the pulpit and at the altar ! The saints rain 
 blessings on him ! They are just, and employ his pious care 
 
 * An expression used by Sir Ralph Percy, slain in the battle of 
 Hedgely Moor in 1464, when dying, to express his having preserved 
 unstained his fidelity to the house of Lancaster. 
 
70 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 to counteract the evils which his detested brother works 
 against the realm and the church. But he knew not of thy 
 lineage?'' ^ 
 
 " I could not myself tell him that/' answered Roland. " I 
 knew but darkly from your words that Sir Halbert Glendin- 
 ning holds mine inheritance, and that I am of blood as noble 
 as runs in the veins of any Scottish baron ; these are things 
 not to be forgotten, but for the explanation I must now look 
 to you." 
 
 *' And when time suits thou shalt not ask for it in vain. 
 But men say, my son, that thou art bold and sudden ; and 
 those who bear such tempers are not lightly to be trusted with 
 «rhat will strongly move them." 
 
 *' Say rather, my mother," returned Roland Graeme, " that 
 I am laggard and cold-blooded ; what patience or endurance 
 can you require of which he is not capable who for years has 
 heard his religion ridiculed and insulted^ yet failed to plunge 
 his dagger into the blasphemer's bosom ! " 
 
 " Be contented, my child," replied Magdalen Graeme ; 
 ** the time which then and even now demands patience, will 
 soon ripen to that of effort and action ; great events are on 
 the wing, and thou — thou shalt have thy share in advancing 
 them. Thou hast relinquished the service of the Lady of 
 Avenel ? " 
 
 '* I have been dismissed from it, my mother — I have lived 
 to be dismissed, as if I were the meanest of the train." 
 
 " It is the better, my child," replied she ; *' thy mind will 
 be the more hardened to undertake that which must be per- 
 formed.'^ 
 
 '* Let it be nothing, then, against the Lady of Avenel," 
 said the page, *' as thy look and words seem to imply. I have 
 eaten her bread — I have experienced her favor ; I will neither 
 injure nor betray her." 
 
 ''Of that hereafter, my son," said she ; ''but learn this, 
 that it is not for thee to capitulate in thy duty, and to say 
 this will I do, and that will I leave undone. No, Roland 1 
 God and man will no longer abide the wickedness of this 
 generation. Seest thou these fragments — knowest thou what 
 thejr represent ? — and canst thou think it is for thee to make 
 distinctions amongst a race so accursed by Heaven that they 
 renounce, violate, blaspheme, and destroy whatsoever we are 
 commanded to believe in, whatsoever we are commanded to 
 reverence ?" 
 
 As she spoke, she bent her head towards the broken image, 
 with a countenance in which strong resentment and zeal wer« 
 
THE ABBOT 71 
 
 mingled with an expression of ecstatic devotion ; she raised 
 her left hand aloft as in the act of making a vow, and thus 
 proceeded : '^ Bear witness for me, blessed symbol of our sal- 
 vation — bear witness, holy saint, within whose violated temple 
 we stand, that as it is not for vengeance of my own that my 
 hate pursues these people, so neither, for any favor or earthly 
 aifection towards any amongst them, will I withdraw my 
 hand from the plow, when it shall pass through the devoted 
 furrow ! Bear witness, holy saint, once thyself a wanderer 
 and a fugitive as we are now — bear witness, Mother of Mercy, 
 Queen of Heaven — bear witness, saints and angels ! " 
 
 In this high strain of enthusiasm she stood, raising her eyes 
 through the fractured roof of the vault to the stars wliich now 
 began to twinkle through the pale twilight, while the long 
 gray tresses which hung down over her shoulders waved in 
 the night-breeze, which the chasm and fractured windows 
 admitted freely. 
 
 Roland Gi'aeme was too much awed by early habits, as well 
 as by the mysterious import of her words, to ask for further 
 explanation of the purpose she obscurely hinted at. Nor did 
 she farther press him on the subject ; for, having concluded 
 her prayer or obtestation, by clasping her hands together with 
 solemnity, and then signing herself with the cross, she again 
 addressed her grandson, in a tone more adapted to the ordi- 
 nary business of life. 
 
 " Thou must hence," she said, '* Eoland — thou must hence, 
 but not till morning. And now, how wilt thou shift for thy 
 night's quarters ? Thou hast been more softly bred than 
 when we were companions in the misty hills of Cumberland 
 and Liddesdale.'* 
 
 *'I have at least preserved, my good mother, the habits 
 which I then learned — can lie hard, feed sparingly, and think 
 it no hardship. Since I was a wanderer with thee on the 
 hills, 1 have been a hunter, and fisher, and fowler, and each 
 of these is accustomed to sleep freely in a worse sheltei* than 
 sacrilege has left us here." 
 
 '' Than sacrilege has left us here ! ** said the matron, re- 
 peating his words, and pausing on them. *' Most true, my 
 son ; and God's faithful children are now worst sheltered when 
 they lodge in God's own house and the demesne of His blessed 
 saints. We shall sleep cold here under tbe night-wind, which 
 whistles through the breaches that heresy has made. They 
 shall lie warmer who made them — ay, and through a long 
 hereafter ! ' 
 
 Notwithstanding the wild and singular expression of this 
 
T2 WA VEBLEY NOVELS 
 
 female, she appeared to retain towards Roland Graeme, in a 
 strong degree, that affectionate and sedulous love which women 
 bear to their nurslings, and the children dependent on their 
 care. It seemed as if she would not permit him to do aught 
 for himself which in former days her attention had been 
 used to do for him, and that she considered the tall stripling 
 before her as being equally dependent on her careful atten- 
 tion as when he was the orphan child who had owed all to her 
 affectionate solicitude 
 
 *' What hast thou to eat now ? " she said, as, leaving the 
 chapel, they went into the deserted habitation of the priest ; 
 *' or what means of kindling a fire, to defend thee from thia 
 raw and inclement air ? Poor child ! thou hast made slight 
 provision for a long journey ; nor hast thou skill to help 
 thyself by wit when means are scanty. But Our Lady has 
 placed by thy side one to whom want, in all its forms, is as 
 familiar as plenty and splendor have formerly been. And 
 with want, Koland, come the arts of which she is the in- 
 ventor.'' 
 
 With an active and officious diligence, which strangely 
 contrasted with her late abstracted and high tone of Catholic 
 devotion, she set about her domestic arrangements for the 
 evening. A pouch, which was hidden under her garment, 
 produced a flint and steel, and from the scattered fragments 
 around (those pertaining to the image of St. Cuthbert 
 scrupulously excepted) she obtained splinters sufficient to 
 raise a sparkling and cheerful fire on the hearth of the de- 
 serted cell. 
 
 *' And now," she said, '' for needful food." 
 
 " Think not of it, mother," said Roland, '^ unless you 
 yourself feel hunger. It is a little thing for me to endure a 
 night's abstinence, and a small atonement for the necessary 
 transgression of the rules of the church upon which I was 
 compelled during my stay in the castle." 
 
 *' Hunger for myself !" answered the matron. ''Know, 
 youth, that a mother knows not hunger till that of her child 
 is satisfied." And with affectionate inconsistency, totally 
 different from her usual manner, she added, '' Roland, you 
 must not fast ; you have dispensation ; you are young, and 
 to youth food and sleep are necessaries not to be dispensed 
 with. Husband your strength, my child ; your sovereign, 
 your religion, your country require it. Let age macerate 
 by fast and vigil a body which can only suffer ; let youth, in 
 these active times, nourish the limbs and the strength which 
 action requires." 
 
THE ABBOT 18 
 
 While she thus spoke, the scrip, which had produced the 
 means of striking fire, furnished provisions for a meal ; of 
 which she herself scarce partook, but anxiously watched her 
 charge, taking a pleasure, resembling that of an epicure, in 
 each morsel which he swallowed, with a youthful appetite 
 which abstinence had rendered unusually sharp. Roland 
 readily obeyed her recommendations, and ate the food which 
 she so affectionately and earnestly placed before him. But 
 she shook her head when invited by him in return to par- 
 take of the refreshment her own cares had furnished ; and 
 when his solicitude became more pressing, she refused him 
 in a loftier tone of rejection. 
 
 " Young man,'' she said, ^' you know not to whom, or of 
 what, you speak. They to whom Heaven declares its pur- 
 pose must merit its communication by mortifying the senses ; 
 they have that within which requires not the superfluity of 
 earthly nutriment, which is necessary to those who are with- 
 out the sphere of the Vision. To them the watch spent in 
 prayer is a refreshing slumber, and the sense of doing the 
 will of Heaven is a richer banquet than the tables of mon- 
 archs can spread before them ! But do thou sleep soft, my 
 son," she said, relapsing from the tone of fanaticism into 
 that of maternal affection and tenderness — '' do thou sleep 
 sound while life is but young with thee, and the cares of the 
 day can be drowned in the slumbers of the evening. Dif- 
 ferent is thy duty and mine, and as different the means by 
 which we must qualify and strengthen ourselves to perform 
 it. From thee is demanded strength of body — from me 
 strength of soul.'' 
 
 When she thus spoke, she prepared with ready address a 
 pallet-couch, composed partly of the dried leaves which had 
 once furnished a bed to the solitary, and the guests who oc- 
 casionally received his hospitality, and which, neglected by 
 the destroyers of his humble cell, had remained little dis- 
 turbed in the corner allotted for them. To these her care 
 added some of the vestures which lay torn and scattered on 
 the floor. With a zealous hand she selected all such as ap- 
 peared to have made any part of the sacerdotal vestments, 
 laying them aside as sacred from ordiifary purposes, and 
 with the rest she made, with dexterous promptness, such a 
 bed as a weary man might willingly stretch himself on ; and 
 during the time she was preparing it, rejected, even with 
 acrimony, any attempt which the youth made to assist her, 
 or any entreaty which he urged that she should accept of 
 the place of rest for her own use. " Sleep thou," said she, 
 
74 WA VERLEY NO VEL8 
 
 "Roland Graeme — sleep tliou — the persecuted, the disin« 
 herited orphan — the son of an ill-fated mother — sleep thou ! 
 1 go to pray in the chapel beside thee/' 
 
 The manner was too enthusiastically earnest, too obsti- 
 nately firm, to permit Roland Graeme to dispute her will 
 any farther. Yet he felt some shame in giving way to it. 
 It seemed as it she had forgotten the years that had passed 
 away since their parting ; and expected to meet, in the tall, 
 indulged, and wilful youth whom she had recovered, the 
 passive obedience of the child whom she had left in the 
 Castle of Avenel. This did not fail to hurt her grandson's 
 characteristic and constitutional pride. He obeyed, indeed, 
 awed into submission by the sudden recurrence of former 
 subordination, and hy feelings of affection and gratitude. 
 Still, however, he felt the yoke. 
 
 "Have I relinquished the hawk and the hound,'' he said, 
 *' to become the pupil of her pleasure, as if I were still a 
 child ? I, whom even my envious mates allowed to be 
 superior in those exercises which they took most pains to 
 acquire, and which came to me naturally, as it a knowledge 
 of them had been my birthright ? This may not, and must 
 not be. I will be no reclaimed sparrow-hawk, who is carried 
 hooded on a woman's wrist, and has his quarry only shown 
 to him when his eyes are uncovered for his flight. I will 
 know her purpose ere it is proposed to me to aid it." 
 
 These and other thoughts streamed through the mind of 
 Eoland Graeme ; and, although wearied with the fatigues of 
 the day, it was long ere he could compose himself to reat. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 Kneel with me — swear it — 'tis not in words I trust. 
 Save when they're fenced with an appeal to Heaven. 
 
 Old Play, 
 
 After passing the night in that sound sleep for which agita- 
 tion and fatigue had prepared him, Roland wt,s awakened by 
 the fresh morning air, and by the beams of the rising sun. 
 His first feeling was that of surprise ; for, instead of looking 
 forth from a turret window on the waters of the lake of 
 Avenel, which was the prospect his former apartment 
 afforded, an unlatticed aperture gave him the view of the 
 demolished garden of the banished anchorite. He sate up 
 on his couch of leaves, and arranged in his memory, not 
 without wonder, the singular events of the preceding day, 
 which appeared the more surprising the more he considered 
 them. He had lost the protectress of his youth, and, in the 
 same day, he had recovered the guide and guardian of his 
 childhood. The former deprivation he felt ought to be 
 matter of unceasing regret, and it seemed as if the latter 
 could hardly be the subject of unmixed self-congratulation. 
 He remembered this person, who had stood to him in the 
 relation of a mother, as equally affectionate in her attention 
 and absolute in her authority. A singular mixture of love 
 and fear attended upon his early remembrances as they were 
 connected with her ; and the, fear that she might desire to 
 resume the same absolute control over his motions — a 
 fear which her conduct of yesterday did not tend much to 
 dissipate — weighed heavily against the joy of this second 
 meeting. 
 
 ** She cannot mean,'* said his rising pride, "to lead and 
 direct me as a pupil, when I am at the age of judging of my 
 own actioi^ ? — this she cannot mean, or meaning it, will feel 
 herself strangely deceived. '^ 
 
 A sense of gratitude towards the person against whom his 
 heart thus rebelled checked this course of feeling. He re- 
 sisted the thoughts which involuntarily arose in his mind, 
 as he would have resisted an actual instigation of the foul 
 fiend ; and to aid him iu his struggle, he felt for bis beads. 
 
 7I» 
 
76 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 But, in his hasty departure from the Castle of Avenel, he 
 had forgotten and left them behind him. 
 
 *'This is yet worse," he said ; '' but two things I learned 
 of her under the most deadly charge of secrecy — to tell my 
 beads, and to conceal that I did so ; and I have kept my 
 word till now ; and when she shall ask me for the rosary, I 
 must say I have forgotten it ! Do I deserve she should be- 
 lieve me when I say I have kept the secret of my faith, when 
 I set so light by its symbol ? " 
 
 He paced the floor in anxious agitation. In fact, his at- 
 tachment to his faith was of a nature very different from 
 that which animated the enthusiastic matron, but which, 
 notwithstanding, it would have been his last thought to re- 
 linquish. 
 
 The early charges impressed on him by his grandmother 
 had been instilled into a mind and memory of a character 
 peculiarly tenacious. Child as he was, he was proud of the 
 confidence reposed in his discretion, and resolved to show that 
 it had not been rashly entrusted to him. At the same time, 
 his resolution was no more than that of a child, and must, 
 necessarily, have gradually faded away under the operation 
 both of precept and example, during his residence at the 
 Castle of Avenel, but for the exhortations of Father Am- 
 brose, who, in his late estate, had been called Edward Glen- 
 i^ inning. This zealous monk had been apprised, by an 
 unsigned letter placed in his hand by a pilgrim, that a child 
 educated in the Catholic faith was now in the Castle of Ave- 
 nel, perilously situated (so was the scroll expressed) as ever 
 the three children who were cast into the fiery furnace of 
 persecution. The letter threw upon Father Ambrose the 
 fault should this solitary lamb, unwillingly left within the 
 demesnes of the prowling wolf, become his final prey. There 
 needed no farther exhortation to the monk than the idea that 
 a soul might be endangered, and that a Catholic might be- 
 come an apostate ; and he made his visits more frequent than 
 usual to the Castle of Avenel, lest, through want of the pri- 
 vate encouragement and instruction which he always found 
 some opportunity of dispensing, the church should lose a 
 proselyte, and, according to the Eomish creed, the devil 
 acquire a soul. 
 
 Still these interviews were rare ; and though they encour- 
 aged the solitary boy to keep his secret and hold fast his 
 religion, they were neither frequent nor long enough to in- 
 spire him with anything beyond a blind attachment to the 
 observances which the priest recommended. He adhered to 
 
TBE ABBOT 11 
 
 the forms of his religion, rather because he felt it would be 
 dishonorable to change that of his fathers than from any 
 rational conviction or sincere belief of its mysterious doc- 
 trines. It was a principal part of the distinction which, in 
 his own opinion, singled him out from those with whom he 
 lived, and gave him an additional, though an internal and 
 concealed, reason for contemning those of the household 
 who showed an undisguised dislike of him, and for harden- 
 ing himself against the instructions of the chaplain, Henry 
 Warden. 
 
 " The fanatic preacher," he thought within himself, dur- 
 ing some one of the chaplain's frequent discourses against 
 the Church of Rome, '^ he little knows whose ears are re- 
 ceiving his profane doctrine, and with what contempt and 
 abhorrence they hear his blasphemies against the holy re- 
 ligion by which kings have been crowned and for which 
 martyrs have died ! " 
 
 But in such proud feelings of defiance of heresy, as it was 
 termed, and of its professors, which associated the Catholic 
 religion with a sense of generous independence, and that of 
 the Protestants with the subjugation of his mind and temper 
 to the direction of Mr. Warden, began and ended the faith 
 of Roland Graeme, who, independently of the pride of 
 singularity, sought not to understand, and had no one to 
 expound to him, the peculiarities of the tenets which he 
 professed. His regret, therefore, at missing the rosary 
 which had been conveyed to him through the hands of 
 Father Ambrose was rather the shame of a soldier who has 
 dropped his cockade, or badge of service, than that of a 
 zealous votary who had forgotten a visible symbol of his 
 religion. 
 
 His thoughts on the subject, however, were mortifying, 
 and the more so from apprehension that his negligence must 
 reach the ears of his relative. He felt it could be no one 
 but her who had secretly transmitted these beads to Father 
 Ambrose for his use, and that his carelessness was but an 
 indifferent requital of her kindness. 
 
 '' Nor will she omit to ask me about them,'' said he to 
 himself ; "for hers is a zeal which age cannot quell ; and if 
 she has not quitted her wont, my answer will not fail to 
 incense her." 
 
 While he thus communed with himself, Magdalen Graeme 
 entered the apartment. ** The blessing of the morning on 
 your youthful head, my son," she said, with a solemnity of 
 expression which thrilled the youth to the heart, so sad and 
 
78 WAVIJRLET NOVELS 
 
 earnest did the benediction flow from her lips, in a tone 
 where devotion was blended with affection. " And thou 
 hast started thus early from thy couch to catch the first 
 breath of the dawn ? But it is not well, my Eoland. En- 
 joy slumber while thou canst ; the time is not far behind 
 when the waking eye must be thy portion as well as mine/' 
 
 She uttered these words with an affectionate and anxious 
 tone, which showed that, devotional as were the habitual 
 exercises of her mind, the thoughts of her nursling yet bound 
 her to earth with the cords of human affection and passion. 
 
 But she abode not long in a mood which she probably re- 
 garded as a momentary dereliction of her imaginary high 
 calling. ** Come," she said, '* youth, up and be doing. It is 
 time that we leave this place." 
 
 ** And whither do we go ? " said the young man ; " or what 
 is the object of our journey ?" 
 
 The matron stepped back, and gazed on him with surprise, 
 not unmingled with displeasure. 
 
 ** To what purpose such a question ? " she said ; ** is it not 
 enough that I lead the way ? Hast thou lived with heretics 
 till thou hast learned to instal the vanity of thine own private 
 judgment in the place of due honor and obedience ?" 
 
 ^' The time," thought Roland Graeme within himself, '^ is 
 already come when I must establish my freedom or be a will- 
 ing thrall forever. I feel that I must speedily look to it." 
 
 She instantly fulfilled his foreboding, by recurring to the 
 theme by which her thoughts seemed most constantly en- 
 grossed, although, when she pleased, no one could so perfectly 
 disguise her religion. 
 
 ** Thy beads, my son — hast thou told thy beads ? " 
 
 Roland Graeme colored high ; he felt the storm was ap- 
 proaching, but scorned to avert it by a falsehood. 
 
 *'I have forgotten my rosary," he said, " at the Castle of 
 Avenel." 
 
 " Forgotten thy rosary ! " she exclaimed ; '' false both to 
 religion and to natural duty, hast thou lost what was sent so 
 far, and at such a risk, a token of the truest affection, that 
 should have been, every bead of it, as dear to thee as thine 
 eyeballs ?" 
 
 *'I am grieved it should have so chanced, mother," replied 
 the youth, '' and much did I value the token, as coming from 
 you. For what remains, I trust to win gold enough, when 
 I push my way in the world ; and till then beads of black 
 oak, or a rosary of nuts, must serve the turn." 
 
 ** Hear him ! " said his grandmother ; " young as he is, he 
 
THE ABBOT td 
 
 hath learned already the lessons of the devirs school ! The 
 rosary consecrated by the Holy Father himself, and sanctified 
 by his blessings, is but a few knobs of gold, whose value may 
 be replaced by the wages of his profane labor, and whose 
 virtue may be supplied by a string of hazel nuts ! This is 
 heresy. Sir Henry Warden, the wolf who ravages the flock 
 of the Shepherd, hath taught thee to speak and to think." 
 
 ** Mother," said Roland Graeme, " I am no heretic : I be- 
 lieve and I pray according to the rules of our church. Thif 
 misfortune I regret, but I cannot amend it." 
 
 *' Thou canst repent it, though," replied his spiritua, 
 directress — *' repent it in dust and ashes, atone for it by fa-st- 
 ing, prayer, and penance, instead of looking on me with a 
 countenance as light as if thou hadst lost but a button fi'om 
 thy cap." 
 
 '* Mother," said Roland, ^' be appeased ; I will remember 
 my fault in the next confession which I have space and oppor- 
 tunity to make, and will do whatever the priest may require 
 of me in atonement. For the heaviest fault I can do no more. 
 But, mother," he added, after a moment's pause, " let me 
 not incur your farther displeasure, if I ask whither our 
 journey is bound, and what is its object. I am no longer a 
 child, but a man, and at my own disposal, with down upon 
 my chin and a sword by my side ; I will go to the end of the 
 world with you to do your pleasure, but I owe it to myself to 
 inquire the purpose and direction of our travels." 
 
 *^You owe it to yourself, ungrateful boy!" replied his 
 relative, passion rapidly supplying the color which age had 
 long chased from her features. ** To yourself you owe noth- 
 ing — you can owe nothing ; to me you owe everything — your 
 life when an infant — your support when a child — the means 
 of instruction and the hopes of honor ; and, sooner than thou 
 shouldst abandon the noble cause to which I have devoted 
 thee, would I see thee lie a corpse at my feet !" 
 
 Roland was alarmed at the vehement agitation with which 
 she spoke, and which threatened to overpower her aged frame ; 
 and he hastened to reply — '' I forget nothing of what I owe 
 to you, my dearest mother ; show me how my blood can 
 testify my gratitude, and you shall judge if I spare it. But 
 blindfold obedience has in it as little merit as reason." 
 
 ^' Saints and angels !" replied Magdalen, '' and do I hear 
 these words from the child of my hopes, the nursling by 
 ■whose bed I have kneeled, and for whose weal I have wearied 
 every saint in Heaven with prayers ? Roland, by obedience 
 only canst thou show thy affection and thy gratitude. What 
 
80 fVAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 avails it that you might perchance adopt the course I propose 
 to thee, were it to be fully explained ? Thou wouldst not 
 then follow my command, but thine own judgment ; thou 
 wouldst not do the will of Heaven, communicated through 
 thy best friend, to whom thy owest thine all ; but thou 
 wouldst observe the blinded dictates of thine own imperfect 
 reason. Hear me, Roland ! a lot calls thee — solicits thee — ■ 
 demands thee — the proudest to which man can be destined, 
 and it uses the voice of thine earliest — thy best — thine only 
 friend. Wilt thou resist it ? Then go thy way — leave me 
 here ; my hopes on earth are gone and withered. I will 
 kneel me down before yonder profaned altar, and when the 
 raging heretics return, they shall dye it with the blood of a 
 martyr ! " 
 
 *' But, my dearest mother,'' said Roland Graeme, whose 
 early recollections of her violence were formidably renewed 
 by these wild expressions of reckless passion, "■ I will not 
 forsake you — I will abide with you : worlds shall not force 
 me from your side. I will protect — I will defend you ; I 
 will live with you, and die for you ! '' 
 
 *' One word, my son, were worth all these ; say only, ' I 
 will obey you.'" 
 
 ** Doubt it not, mother," replied the youth, " I will, and 
 that with all my heart ; only " 
 
 ** Nay, I receive no qualifications of thy promise," said 
 Magdalen Graeme, catching at the word, "the obedience 
 which I require is absolute ; and a blessing on thee, thou 
 darling memory of my beloved child, that thou hast power 
 to make a promise so hard to human pride ! Trust me well, 
 that in the design in which thou dost embark thou hast for 
 thy partners the mighty and the valiant, t le power of the 
 church, and the pride of the noble. Succeed or fail, live or 
 die, thy name shall be among those with whom success or 
 failure is alike glorious, death or life alike desirable. For- 
 ward then — forward I life is short, and our plan is laborious. 
 Angels, saints, and the whole blessed host of Heaven have 
 their eyes even now on this barren and blighted land of 
 Scotland. What say I ? On Scotland ? Their eye is on W5, 
 Roland — on the frail woman, on the inexperienced youth, 
 who, amidst the ruins which sacrilege hath made in the holy 
 place, devote themselves to God's cause, and that of their 
 lawful sovereign. Amen, so be it ! The blessed eyes of 
 saints and martyrs, which see our resolve, shall witness the 
 execution ; or their ears, which hear our vow, shall hear our 
 death-groan drawn in the sacred cause I " 
 
THE ABBOT 81 
 
 While thus speaking, she held Ronald Graeme firmly 
 with one hand, while she pointed upward with the other, to 
 leave him, as it were, no means of protest against the ob- 
 testation to which he was thus made a party. When she 
 had finished her appeal to Heaven, she left him no leisure 
 for farther hesitation, or for asking any explanation of her 
 purpose ; but, passing with the same ready transition as 
 lormerly to the solicitous attentions of an anxious parent, 
 overwhelmed him with questions concerning his residence in 
 the Castle of Avenel, and the qualities and accomplishments 
 he had acquired. 
 
 " It is well,'* she said, when she had exhausted her in- 
 quiries : *'my gay goss-hawk* hath been well trained, and 
 will soar high ; but those who bred him will have cause to 
 fear as well as to wonder at his flight. Let us now," she 
 said, " to our morning meal, and care not though it be a 
 scanty one. A few hours' walk will bring us to more 
 friendly quarters." 
 
 They broke their fast accordingly on such fragments as 
 remained of their yesterday's provision, and immediately set 
 out on their farther journey. Magdalen Graeme led the way, 
 with a firm and active step much beyond her years, and 
 Roland Graeme followed, pensive and anxious, and far from 
 satisfied with the state of dependence to which he seemed 
 again to be reduced. 
 
 "Am I forever," he said to himself, ''to be devoured 
 with the desire of independence and free agency, and yet to 
 be forever led on by circumstances to follow the will of 
 others?" 
 
 ♦See Note 4, 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 She dwelt unnoticed and alone, 
 
 Beside the springs of Dove — 
 A maid whom there was none to praise, 
 
 And very few to love. 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 Ik the conrse of their journey the travelers spoke little id 
 each other. Magdalen Graeme chanted, from time to time, 
 in a low voice, a part of some one of those beautiful old 
 Latin hymns which belong to the Catholic service, muttered 
 an ave or a credo, and so passed on, lost in devotional con- 
 templation. The meditations of her grandson were more 
 bent on mundane matters ; and many a time, as a moorfowl 
 arose from the heath and shot along the moor, uttering his 
 bold crow of defiance, he thought of the jolly Adam Wood- 
 cock and his trusty gross-hawk ; or, as they passed a thicket 
 where the low trees and bushes were intermingled with tall 
 fern, furze, and broom, so as to form a thick and intricate 
 cover, his dreams were of a roebuck and a brace of gaze- 
 hounds. But frequently his mind returned to the benevolent 
 and kind mistress whom he had left behind him offended 
 justly, and unreconciled by any effort of his. 
 
 ** My step would be lighter,^' he thought, " and so would 
 my heart, could I but have returned to see her for one in- 
 stant, and to say, ' Lady, the orphan boy was wild, but not 
 ungrateful I ' *' 
 
 Traveling in these divers moods, about the hour of noon 
 they reached a small straggling village, in which, as usual, 
 were seen one or two of those predominating towers, or ;peel- 
 houses, which, for reasons of defense elsewhere detailed. 
 Were at that time to be found in every Border hamlet. A 
 brook flowed beside the village, and watered the valley in 
 which it stood. There was also a mansion at the end of the 
 village and a little way separated from it, much dilapidated 
 and in very bad order, but appearing to have been the abode 
 of persons of some consideration. The situation was agree- 
 able, being an angle formed by the stream, bearing three or 
 jEour large sycamore-trees, which were in full leaf, and served 
 
The ABMOf 88 
 
 to relieve the dark appearance of the mansion, which was 
 built of a deep-red stone. The house itself was a large one, 
 but was now obviously too big for the inmates ; several 
 windows were built up, especially those which opened from 
 the lower story ; others were blockaded in a less substantial 
 manner. The court before the door, which had once been 
 defended with a species of low outer wall, now ruinous, was 
 paved, but the stones were completely covered with long 
 gray nettles, thistles, and other weeds, which, shooting up 
 betwixt the flags, had displaced many of them from their 
 level. Even matters demanding more peremptory attention 
 had been left neglected, in a manner which argued sloth or 
 poverty in the extreme. The stream, undermining a part 
 of the bank near an angle of the ruinous wall, had brought 
 it down, with a corner turret, the ruins of which lay in the 
 bed of the river. The current, interrupted by the ruins 
 which it had overthrown, and turned yet nearer to the site 
 of the tower, had greatly enlarged the breach it had made, 
 aud was in the process of undermining the ground on which 
 the house itself stood, unless it were speedily protected by 
 sufficient bulwarks. 
 
 All this attracted Roland Grasme's observation, as they 
 approached the dwelling by a winding path, which gave 
 them, at intervals, a view of it from different points. 
 
 *'If we go to yonder house,'' he said to his [grand-] 
 mother, *' I trust it is but for a short visit. It Iooks as if 
 two rainy days from the northwest would send the whole 
 into the brook.'* 
 
 " You see but with the eyes of the body," said the old 
 woman ; " God will defend His own, though it be forsaken 
 and despised of men. Better to dwell on the sand, under 
 His law, than fly to the rock of human trust." 
 
 As she thus spoke, they entered the court before the old 
 mansion, and Roland could observe that the front of it had 
 formerly been considerably ornamented with carved work, 
 in the same dark-colored freestone of which it was built. 
 But all these ornaments had been broken down and destroyed, 
 and only the shattered vestiges of niches and entablatures 
 now strewed the place which they had once occupied. The 
 larger entrance in front was walled up, but a little footpath, 
 which, from its appearance, seemed to be rarely trodden, led 
 to a small wicket, defended by a door well clenched with 
 iron-headed nails, at which Magdalen Graeme knocked three 
 times, pausing betwixt each knock, until she heard an an- 
 swering tap from within. At the last knock, the wicket was 
 
84 WAVJERLEY NOVELS 
 
 opened by a pale thin female, who said, * Benedicti gut 
 veniunt in nomine Domi?ii.' They entered, and the portress 
 hastily shut behind them the wicket, and made fast the 
 massive fastenings by which it was secured. 
 
 The female led the way through a narrow entrance, into a 
 vestibule of some extent, paved with stone, and having 
 benches of the same solid material ranged around. At the up- 
 
 Eer end was an oriel window, but some of the intervals formed 
 y the stone shafts and mullions were blocked up, so that 
 the apartment was very gloomy. 
 
 Here they stopped, and the mistress of the mansion, for 
 Buch she was, embraced Magdalen Graeme, and greeting her 
 by the title of sister, kissed her, with much solemnity, on 
 either side of the face. 
 
 "The blessing of Our Lady be upon you, my sister," were 
 her next words ; and they left no doubt upon Eoland's mind 
 respecting the religion of their hostess, even if he could have 
 suspected his venerable and zealous guide of resting elsewhere 
 than in the habitation of an orthodox Catholic. They spoke 
 together a few words in private, during which he had leisure 
 to remark more particularly the appearance of his grand- 
 mother's friend. 
 
 Her age might be betwixt fifty and sixty ; her looks had a 
 mixture of melancholy and unhappiness that bordered on dis- 
 content, and obscured the remains of beauty which age had 
 still left on her features. Her dress was of the plainest and 
 most ordinary description, of a dark color, and, like Mag- 
 dalen Graeme's, something approaching to a religious habit. 
 Strict neatness and cleanliness of person seemed to intimate 
 that, if poor, she was not reduced to squalid or heart-broken 
 distress, and that she was still sufficiently attached to life to re- 
 tain a taste for its decencies, if not its elegancies. Her manner, 
 as well as her features and appearance, argued an original con- 
 dition and education far above the meanness of her present ap- 
 pearance. In short, the whole figure was such as to excite the 
 idea, " That female must have had a history worth knowing." 
 While Roland Graeme was making this very reflection, the 
 whispers of the two females ceased, and the mistress of the 
 mansion, approaching him, looked on his face and person 
 with much attention, and, as it seemed, some interest. 
 
 "This, then,'' she said, addressing his relative, ''is the 
 child of thine unhappy daughter, Sister Magdalen ; and him, 
 the only shoot from your ancient tree, you are willing to 
 devote to the good cause ?" 
 
 *' Yee, by the rood," answered Magdalen Graeme, in her 
 
THE ABBOT 85 
 
 QBual tone of resolved determination, '' to the good cause I 
 devote him, flesh and fell, sinew and limb, body and soul ! * 
 
 *' Thou art a happy woman. Sister Magdalen,'^ answered 
 her companion, " that, lifted so high above human affection 
 und human feeling, thou c^anst bind such a victim to the 
 "horns of the altar. Had I been called to make such sacrifice 
 — to plunge a youth so young and fair into the plots and 
 bloodthirsty dealings of the time, not the patriarch Abraham, 
 when he led Isaac up the mountain, would have rendered 
 more melancholy obedience/^ 
 
 She then continued to look at Eoland with a mournful as- 
 pect of compassion, until the intentness of her gaze occa- 
 sioned his color to rise, and he was about to move out of its 
 influence, when he was stopped by his grandmother with one 
 hand, while with the other she divided the hair upon his fore- 
 head, which was now crimson with bashfulness, while she add- 
 ed, with a mixture of proud affection and firm resolution — 
 *' Ay, look at him well, my sister, for on a fairer face thine eye 
 never rested. I too, when first I saw him, after along sepa- 
 ration, felt as the worldly feel, and was half shaken in my 
 purpose. But no wind can tear a leaf from the withered 
 tree which has long been stripped of its foliage, and no mere 
 human casualty can awaken the mortal feelings which have 
 long slept in the calm of devotion.^^ 
 
 While the old woman thus spoke, her manner gave the lie 
 to her assertions, for the tears rose to her eyes while she 
 added, ' ' But the fairer and the more spotless the victim, is 
 it not, my sister, the more worthy of acceptance?^' She 
 seemed glad to escape from the sensations which agitated 
 her, and instantly added, '* He will escape, my sister : there 
 will be a ram caught in the thicket, and the hand of 
 our revolted brethren shall not be on the youthful Joseph. 
 Heaven can defend its own rights, even by means of babes 
 and sucklings, of women and beardless boys.'' 
 
 *' Heaven hath left us," said the other female : '' for our 
 «ins and our father's the succors of the blessed saints have 
 abandoned this accursed land. We may win the crown of 
 martyrdom, but not that of earthly triumph. One, too, whose 
 prudence was at this deep crisis so indispensable, has been 
 called to a better world. The Abbot Eustatius is no more." 
 
 " May his soul have mercy ! " said Magdalen Graeme, 
 *' and may Heaven, too, have mercy upon us, who linger be- 
 hind in this bloody land ! His loss is indeed a perilous blow 
 to our enterprise ; for who remains behind possessing hia 
 far-fetched experience, his self-devoted zeal, his consum* 
 
^ WA VERLEY NO VEL8 
 
 mate wisdom, and his undaunted courage ! He hath fallen 
 with the church's standard in his hand, but God will raise 
 up another to lift the blessed banner. Whom have the chap- 
 ter elected in his room ? " 
 
 "It is rumored no one of the few remaining brethren 
 dare accept the office. The heretics have sworn that they 
 will permit no future election, and will heavily punish any 
 attempt to create a new abbot of St. Mary's. Conjuraver- 
 unt inter se principes, dicentes, Projiciamus laqueos ejus." 
 
 " Quousque, Domine?" ejaculated Magdalen. 'This, 
 my sister, were indeed a perilous and fatal breach in our 
 band ; but I am firm in my belief that another will arise in 
 the place of him so untimely removed. Where is thy 
 daughter Catherine ? " 
 
 "In the parlor," answered the matron, "but " She 
 
 looked at Koland Graeme, and muttered something in the 
 ear of her friend. 
 
 "Fear it not," answered Magdalen Graeme, "it is both 
 lawful and necessary ; fear nothing from him : I would he 
 were as well grounded in the faith by which alone comes 
 safety as he is free from thought, deed, or speech of villainy. 
 Therein is the heretics' discipline to be commended, my sis- 
 ter, that they train up their youth in strong morality, and 
 choke up every inlet to youthful folly." 
 
 " It is but a cleansing of the outside of the cup," answered 
 her friend — "a whitening of the sepulcher ; but he shall see 
 Catherine, since you, sister, judge it safe and meet. Follow 
 us, youth," she added, and led the way from the apart- 
 ment with her friend. These were the only words which the 
 matron had addressed to Roland Graeme, who obeyed them in 
 silence. As they paced through several winding passages and 
 waste apartments with a very slow step, the young page had 
 leisure to make some reflection on his situation — reflections 
 of a nature which his ardent temper considered as specially 
 disagreeable. It seemed he had now got two mistresses, or 
 tutoresses instead of one, both elderly women, and both, it 
 would seem, in league to direct his motions according to their 
 own pleasure, and for the accomplishment of plans to which he 
 was no party. This, he thought was too much ; arguing, 
 reasonably enough, that whatever right his grandmother 
 and benefactress had to guide his motions, she was neither 
 entitled to transfer her authority or to divide it with another, 
 who seemed to assume, without ceremony, the same tone of 
 absolute command over him. 
 
 " But it shall not long continue thus," thought Roland ; 
 
THE ABBOT &t 
 
 " I will not be all my life the slave of a woman's whistle, to 
 go when she bids, and come when she calls. No, by St. 
 Andrew ! the hand that can hold the lance is above the con- 
 trol of the distaff. I will leave them the slipped collar in their 
 hands on the first opportunity, and let them execute their 
 own devices by their own proper force. It may save them 
 both from peril, for I guess what they meditate is not likely 
 to prove either safe or easy : the Earl of Murray, and his 
 heresy are, too well rooted to be grubbed up by two old 
 women." 
 
 As he thus resolved, they entered a low room, in which a 
 third female was seated. This apartment was the first he 
 had observed in the mansion which was furnished with move- 
 able seats, and with a wooden table, over which was laid 
 a piece of tapestry. A carpet was spread on the floor, there 
 was a grate in the chimney, and, in brief, the apartment had 
 the air of being habitable and inhabited. 
 
 But Roland's eyes found better employment than to make 
 observations on the accommodations of the chamber ; for 
 this second female inhabitant of the mansion seemed some- 
 thing very different from anything he had yet seen there. 
 At his first entry she had greeted with a silent and low ob- 
 eisance the two aged matrons, then glancing her eyes to- 
 wards Roland, she adjusted a veil which hung back over her 
 shoulders so as to bring it over her face — an operation which 
 she performed with much modesty, but without either af- 
 fected haste or embarrassed timidity. 
 
 During this maneuver, Roland had time to observe that 
 the face was that of a girl apparently not much past sixteen, 
 and that the eyes were at once soft and brilliant. To these 
 very favorable observations was added the certainty that the 
 fair object to whom they referred possessed an excellent shape 
 bordering perhaps on emhonpoint, and therefore rather that 
 of a Hebe than of a sylph, but beautifully formed, and shown 
 to great advantage by the close jacket and petticoat which 
 she wore after a foreign fashion, the last not quite long enough 
 absolutely to conceal a very pretty foot, which rested on a 
 bar of the table at which she sate ; her round arms and taper 
 fingers very busily employed in repairing the piece of tapes- 
 try which was spread on it, which exhibited several deplor- 
 able fissures, enough to demand the utmost skill of the most 
 expert seamstress. 
 
 It is to be remarked, that it was by stolen glances that 
 Roland Graeme contrived to ascertain these interesting par^ 
 ticulars ; and he thought he could once or twice, notwitK- 
 
88 WAVERLET NOVELS 
 
 standing the texture of the veil, detect the damsel in the act 
 of taking similar cognizance of his own person. The ma- 
 trons in the meanwhile continued their separate conversation, 
 eyeing from time to time the young people, in a manner 
 which left Roland in no doubt that they were the subject of 
 their conversation. At length he distinctly heard Magdalen 
 GraBme say these words — *' Nay, my sister, we must give 
 them opportunity to speak together, and to become ac- 
 quainted ; they must be personally known to each other, or 
 now shall they be able to execute what they are entrusted 
 with?'' 
 
 It seemed as if the matron, not fully satisfied with her 
 friend's reasoning, continued to offer some objections ; but 
 they were borne down by her more dictatorial friend. 
 
 " It must be so," she said, ^' my dear sister ; let us there- 
 fore go forth on the balcony to finish our conversation. 
 And do you," she added, addressing Eoland and the girl, 
 ** become acquainted with each other." 
 
 With this she stepped up to the young woman, and rais- 
 ing her veil, discovered features which, whatever might be 
 their ordinary complexion, were now covered with a uni- 
 versal blush. 
 
 " Licitum sit," said Magdalen, looking at the other 
 matron. 
 
 *' Vix licitum/' replied the other, with reluctant and 
 hesitating acquiescence ; and again adjusting the veil of the 
 blushing girl, she dropped it so as to shade, though not to 
 conceal, her countenance, and whispered to her, in a tone 
 loud enough for the page to hear, ** Remember, Catherine, 
 who thou art, and for what destined." 
 
 The matron then retreated with Magdalen Graeme through 
 one of the casements of the apartment, that opened on a 
 large broad balcony, which, with its ponderous balustrade, 
 had once run along the whole south front of the building 
 which faced the brook, and formed a pleasant and com- 
 modious walk in the open air. It was now in some places 
 deprived of the balustrade, in others broken and narrowed ; 
 but, ruinous as it was, could still be used as a pleasant prom- 
 enade. Here then walked the two ancient dames, busied 
 in their private conversation ; yet not so much so but that 
 Roland could observe the matrons, as their thin forms dark- 
 ened the casement in passing or repassing before it dart a 
 glance into the apartment, to see how matters were going 
 on there. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 Life hath its May, and it is mirthful then : 
 
 The woods are vocal, and the flowers all odor : 
 
 Its very blast has mirth in't — and the maidens, 
 
 The while they don their cloaks to skreen their kirtles, 
 
 Laugh at the rain that wets them. 
 
 Old Play. 
 
 Cathekine was at the happy age of innocence and buoy- 
 ancy of spirit when, after the first moment of embarrassment 
 was over, a situation of awkwardness like that in which she 
 was suddenly left to make acquaintance with a handsome 
 youth, not even known to her by name, struck her, in spite 
 of herself, in a ludicrous point of view. She bent her beau- 
 tiful eyes upon the work with which she was busied, and 
 with infinite gravity sate out the two first turns of the ma- 
 trons upon the balcony ; but then glancing her deep blue 
 eyes a little towards Roland, and observing the embar- 
 rassment under which he labored, now shifting on his 
 chair, and now dangling his cap, the whole man evincing 
 that he was perfectly at a loss how to open the conversation, 
 she could keep her composure no longer, but, after a vain 
 struggle, broke out into a sincere, though a very involun- 
 tary, fit of laughing, so richly accompanied by the laughter 
 of her merry eyes, which actually glanced through the tears 
 which the effort filled them with, and by the waving of her 
 rich tresses, that the goddess of smiles herself never looked 
 more lovely than Catherine at that moment. A court page 
 would not have left her long alone in her mirth ; but Roland 
 was country-bred, and, besides, having some jealousy, as 
 well as bashfulness, he took it into his head that he was 
 himself the object of her inextinguishable laughter. His 
 endeavors to sympathize with Catherine, therefore, could 
 carry him no farther than a forced giggle, which had more 
 of displeasure than of mirth in it, and which so much en- 
 hanced that of the girl that it seemed to render it impossible 
 for her ever to bring her laughter to an end, with whatever 
 anxious pains she labored to do so. For every one has felt 
 that when a paroxysm of laughter has seized him, at a mis* 
 
90 WA VEBLET NO VEL8 
 
 becoming time and place, the efforts which he makes to sup- 
 press it, nay, the very sense of the impropriety of giving 
 way to it, tend only to augment and prolong the irresistible 
 impulse. 
 
 It was undoubtedly lucky for Catherine, as well as for 
 Koland, that the latter did not share in the excessive mirth 
 of the former. For seated as she was, with her back to the 
 casement, Catherine could easily escape the observation of 
 the two matrons during the course of their promenade ; 
 whereas Graeme was so placed, with his side to the window, 
 that his mirth, had he shared that of his companion, would 
 have been instantly visible, and could not have failed to 
 give offense to the personages in question. He sate, how- 
 ever, with some impatience, until Catherine had exhausted 
 either her power or her desire of laughing, and was return- 
 ing with good grace to the exercise of her needle, and then 
 he observed with some dryness, that '* There seemed no great 
 occasion to recommend to them to improve their acquaint- 
 ance, as it seemed that they were already tolerably familiar. '' 
 
 Catherine had an extreme desire to set off upon a fresh 
 score, but she repressed it strongly, and fixing her eyes on 
 her work, replied by asking his pardon, and promising to 
 avoid future offense. 
 
 Roland had sense enough to feel that an air of offended 
 dignity was very much misplaced, and that it was with a 
 very different bearing he ought to meet the deep blue eyes 
 which had borne such a hearty burden in the laughing scene. 
 He tried, therefore, to extricate himself as well as he could 
 from his blunder, by assuming a tone of corresponding 
 gaiety, and requesting to know of the nymph, *' How it was, 
 her pleasure that they should proceed in improving the ac- 
 quaintance which had commenced so merrily.^' 
 
 " That,'' she said, '' you must yourself discover ; perhaps I 
 have gone a step too far in opening our interview/* 
 
 *' Suppose,^' said Roland Graeme, '^ we should begin as in a 
 tale-book, by asking each other's names and histories." 
 
 *'It is right well imagined," said Catherine, ''and shows 
 an argute judgment. Do you begin, and I will listen, and only 
 put in a question or two at the dark parts of the story. 
 Come, unfold theu your name and history, my new acquain- 
 tance." 
 
 ** I am called Roland Graeme, and that tall old woman ii 
 my grandmother." 
 
 " And your tutoress ? Good. Who are your parents ? " 
 
 " They are both dead," replied Roland. 
 
THE ABBOT 01 
 
 '' Ay, bnt who were they ? You had parents, I pre- 
 sume P' 
 
 *'I suppose so/' said Roland, **butl have never been 
 able to learn much of their history. My father was a Scot- 
 tish knight, who died gallantly in his stirrups ; my mother 
 was a Graeme of Heathergill in the Debateable Land ; most 
 of her family were killed when the Debateable country was 
 burned by the Lord Maxwell and Herries of Oaerlave- 
 rock/' ^ 
 
 '' Is it long ago ? '* said the damsel. 
 
 " Before I was born," answered the page. 
 
 '' That must be a great while since,*^ said she, shaking her 
 head gravely ; '' look you, I cannot weep for them." 
 
 *^ It needs not," said the youth, '' they fell with honor." 
 
 ** So much for your lineage, fair sir," replied his compan- 
 ion, '* of whom I like the living specimen (a glance at the 
 casement) far less than those that are dead. Your much 
 honored grandmother looks as if she could make one weep 
 in sad earnest. And now, fair sir, for your own person ; if 
 you tell not the tale faster, it will be cut short in the mid- 
 dle : Mother Bridget pauses longer and longer every time 
 she passes the window, and with her there is as little mirth 
 as in the grave of your ancestors." 
 
 " My tale is soon told. I was introduced into the Castle 
 of Avenel to be page to the lady of the mansion." 
 
 " She is a strict Huguenot, is she not ? " said the maiden. 
 
 " As strict as Calvin himself. But my grandmother can 
 play the Puritan when it suits her purpose, and she had 
 some plan of her own for quartering me in the castle ; it 
 would have failed, however, after we had remained several 
 weeks at the hamlet, but for an unexpected master of cere- 
 monies " 
 
 '' And who was that ?" said the girl. 
 
 "A large black dog, Wolf by name, who brought me into 
 the castle one day in his mouth like a hurt wild duck, and 
 presented me to the lady." 
 
 " A most respectable introduction, truly," said Catherine^ 
 *' and what might you learn at this same castle ? I love 
 dearly to know what my acquaintances can do at need." 
 
 " To fly a hawk, halloo to a hound, back a horse, and 
 wield lance, bow, and brand." 
 
 '* And to boast of all this when you have learned it," said 
 Catherine, '^ which, in France at least, is the surest accom- 
 plishment of a page. But proceed, fair sir ; how came your 
 Huguenot lord and your no less Huguenot lady to receiY« 
 
OS ^TAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 and keep in the family so perilous a person as a Catholio 
 page?'' 
 
 *^ Because they knew not that part of my history, which 
 from infancy I had been taught to keep secret ; and because 
 my grand-dame's former zealous attendance on their heretic 
 chaplain had laid all this suspicion to sleep, most fair Cali- 
 polls," said the page, and in so saying he edged his chair 
 towards the seat of the fair querist. 
 
 " Nay, but keep your distance, most gallant sir,'' answered 
 the blue-eyed maiden, " for, unless I greatly mistake, these 
 reverend ladies will soon interrupt our amicable conference 
 if the acquaintance they recommend shall seem to proceed 
 beyond a certain point ; so, fair sir, be pleased to abide by 
 your station, and reply to my questions. By what achieve- 
 ments did you prove the qualities of a page, which you had 
 thus happily acquired ? " 
 
 Roland, who began to enter into the tone and spirit of the 
 damsel's conversation, replied to her with becoming spirit. 
 
 ^'In no feat, fair gentlewoman, was I found inexpert,' 
 wherein there was mischief implied. I shot swans, hunted 
 cats, frightened serving- women, chased the deer, and robbed 
 the orchard. I say nothing of tormenting the chaplain in 
 various ways, for that was my duty as a good Catholic." 
 
 ^*Now, as I am a gentlewoman," said Catherine, ^' I think 
 these heretics have done Catholic penance in entertaining so 
 all-accomplished a serving-man! And what, fair sir, 
 might have been the unhappy event which deprived them of 
 an inmate altogether so estimable ? " 
 
 " Truly, fair gentlewoman," answered the youth, ''your 
 real proverb says that the longest lane will have a turning, 
 and mine was more — it was, in fine, a turning off." 
 
 "Good I" said the merry young maiden, "it is an apt 
 play on the word. And what occasion was taken for so im- 
 portant a catastrophe ? Nay, start not for my learning, I 
 do know the schools — in plain phrase, why were you sent 
 from service ? " 
 
 The page shrugged his shoulders while he replied, " A 
 short tale is soon told, and a short horse soon curried. I 
 made the falconer's boy taste of my switch ; the falconer 
 threatened to make me brook his cudgel. He is a kindly 
 clown as well as a stout, and I would rather have been cud- 
 gelled by him than any man in Christendom to choose ; but 
 I knew not his qualities at that time, so I threatened to' 
 make him brook the stab, and my lady made me brook the 
 * Begone^; so adieu to the page's office and the fair Castle 
 
THE ABBOT 93 
 
 of Avenel. I had not traveled far before I met my venera- 
 ble parent. And so tell your tale, fair gentlewoman, for 
 mine is done." 
 
 "A happy grandmother," said the maiden, " who had the 
 luck to find the stray page just when his mistress had slipped 
 his leash, and a most lucky page that has jumped at once 
 from a page to an old lady^s gentleman-usher ! " 
 
 "All this is nothing of your history," answered Eoland 
 Graeme, who began to be much interested in the congenial 
 vivacity of this facetious young gentlewoman — " tale for tale 
 is fellow- travelers' justice." 
 
 '* Wait till we are fellow- travelers, then," replied Cath- 
 erine. 
 
 ''Nay, you escape me not so," said the page; ''if you 
 deal not justly by me, I will call out to Dame Bridget, or 
 whatever your dame be called, and proclaim you for a 
 cheat." 
 
 " You shall not need," answered the maiden. " My his- 
 tory is the counterpart of your own ; the same words might 
 almost serve, change but dress and name. I am called Cath- 
 erine Seyton, and I also am an orphan. '^ 
 
 " Have your parents been long dead ?" 
 
 "That is the only question," said she, throwing down her 
 fine eyes with a sudden expression of sorrow — "that is the 
 only question I cannot laugh at." 
 
 ' 'And Dame Bridget is your grandmother ? " 
 
 The sudden cloud' passed away like that which crosses foi 
 an instant the summer sun, and she answered, with her usual 
 lively expression, '^ Worse by twenty degrees — Dame Bridget 
 is my maiden aunt." 
 
 " Over God's forbode ! " said Eoland. "Alas ! that you 
 have such a tale to tell ! And what horror comes next ? " 
 
 " Your own history, exactly. I was taken upon trial for 
 service " 
 
 "And turned off for pinching the duenna, or affronting my 
 lady's waiting-woman ? " 
 
 " Nay, our history varies there," said the damsel. " Our 
 mistress broke up house, or had her house broke up, which 
 is the same thing, and I am a free woman of the forest." 
 
 "And I am as glad of it as if any one had lined my doub- 
 let with cloth of gold," said the youth. 
 
 " I thank you for your mirth," said she, " but the matter 
 is not likely to concern you." 
 
 "Nay, but go on," said the page, "for you will be pres- 
 ently interrupted ; the two good dames have been soaring 
 
M WAVERLET NOVELS 
 
 yonder on the balcony, like two old hooded crows, and their 
 croak grows hoarser as night comes on ; they will wing to 
 roost presently. This mistress of yours, fair gentlewoman, 
 who was she, in God's name ?'* 
 
 *' 0, she has a fair name in the world," replied Catherine 
 Seyton. ''Few ladies kept a fairer house, or held more 
 gentlewomen in her household ; my aunt Bridget was one of 
 her housekeepers. We never saw our mistress's blessed face, 
 to be sure, but we heard enough of her ; were up early 
 and down late, and were kept to long prayers and light 
 food." 
 
 " Out upon the penurious old beldam ! " said the page. 
 
 " For Heaven's sake, blaspheme not ! " said the girl, with 
 an expression of fear. *' God pardon us both ! I mean no 
 harm. I speak of our blessed St. Catherine of Sienna ! — 
 may God forgive me that I spoke so lightly, and made you 
 do a great sin and a great blasphemy ! This was her 
 nunnery, in which there were twelve nuns and an abbess. My 
 aunt was the abbess, till the heretics turned all adrift." 
 
 "And where are your companions ?" asked the youth. 
 
 " With the last year's snow," answered the maiden — *' east, 
 north, south, and west : some to France, some to Flanders, 
 some, I fear, into the world and its pleasures. We have 
 got permission to remain, or rather our remaining has been 
 connived at, for my aunt has great relations among the 
 Kerrs, and they have threatened a death-feud if any one 
 touches us ; and bow and spear are the best warrants in these 
 times." 
 
 ** Nay, then, you sit under a sure shadow," said the youth ; 
 " and I suppose you wept yourself blind when St. Catherine 
 broke up housekeeping before you had taken arles in her 
 service ? " 
 
 " Hush ! for Heaven's sake," said the damsel, crossing her- 
 self, '' no more of that ! But I have not quite cried my eyes 
 out," said she, turning them upon him, and instantly again 
 bending them upon her work. It was one of those glancea 
 which would require the threefold plate of brass around the 
 heart, more than it is needed by the mariners of whom Horace 
 recommends it. Our youthful page had no defense whatever 
 to offer. 
 
 '' What say you, Catherine," he said, " if we two, thus 
 strangely turned out of service at the same time, shouM give 
 our two most venerable duennas the torch to hold, whi.Ie we 
 walk a merry measure with each other over the floor of ibis 
 weary world?'* 
 
THE ABBOT 96 
 
 **A goodly proposal, truly," said Catherine, ''and worthy 
 the madcap brain of a discarded page! And what shifts 
 does your worship propose we should live by ?— -by singing 
 ballads, cutting purses, or swaggering on the highway ? for 
 there, I think, you will find your most productive ex- 
 chequer/' 
 
 *' Choose, you proud peat!'' said the page, drawing off 
 in huge disdain at the calm and unembarrassed ridicule with 
 which his wild proposal was received. And as he spoke the 
 words, the casement was again darkened by the forms of the 
 matrons ; it opened, and admitted Magdalen Graeme and the 
 mother abbess, so we must now style her, into the apartment 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 Nay, hear me, brother ; I am elder, wiser, 
 And holier than thou. And age, and wisdom, 
 And holiness, have peremptory claims, 
 And will be listen'd to. 
 
 Old Play, 
 
 When the matrons re-entered, and put an end to the con- 
 versation which we have detailed in the last chapter. Dame 
 Magdalen Graeme thus addressed her grandson and his pretty 
 companion : '^Have you spoke together, my children. Have 
 you become known to each other as fellow-travelers on the 
 same dark and dubious road, whom chance hath brought to- 
 gether, and who study to learn the tempers and dispositions 
 of those by whom their perils are to be shared ? " 
 
 It was seldom the light-hearted Catherine could suppress 
 a jest, so that she often spoke when she would have acted 
 more wisely in holding her peace. 
 
 *' Your grandson admires the journey which you propose 
 so very greatly that he was even now preparing for setting 
 out upon it instantly. '' 
 
 " This is to be too forward, Roland," said the dame, ad- 
 dressing him, *' as yesterday you were over slack ; the just 
 mean lies in obedience, which both waits for the signal to 
 start and obeys it when given. But once again, my children, 
 have you so perused each other's countenances that, when 
 you meet, in whatever disguise the times may impose upon 
 you, you may recognize each in the other the secret agent of 
 the mighty work in which you are to be leagued ? Look at 
 each other, know each line and lineament of each other's 
 countenance. Learn to distinguish by the step, by the sound 
 of the voice, by the motion of the hand, by the glance of the 
 eye, the partner whom Heaven hath sent to aid in working 
 its will. Wilt thou know that maiden, whensoever or where- 
 soever you shall again meet her, my Roland Graeme ? '' 
 
 As readily as truly did Roland answer in the affirmative. 
 
 *' And thou, my daughter, wilt thou again remember the 
 features of this youth ? '' 
 
 " Truly, mother," replied Catherine Seyton, '' I have not 
 Been so many men of late that I should immediately forget 
 
 9d 
 
THE ABBOT 07 
 
 your grandson, though I mark not much about him that is 
 deserving of special remembrance/' 
 
 ** Join hands, then, my children,," said Magdalen Graeme ; 
 but, in saying so, was interrupted by her companion, whose 
 conventual prejudices had been gradually giving her more 
 and more uneasiness, and who could remain acquiescent no 
 longer. 
 
 " Nay, my good sister, you forget, '^ said she to Magdalen, 
 *^ Catherine is the betrothed bride of Heaven ; these intima- 
 cies cannot be." 
 
 " It is in the cause of Heaven that I command them to 
 embrace," said Magdalen, with the full force of her power- 
 ful voice ; *' the end, sister, sanctifies the means we must 
 use." 
 
 *' They call me lady abbess, or mother at the least, who 
 address me," said Dame Bridget, drawing herself up, as if 
 offended at her friend's authoritative manner ; " the Lady 
 of Heathergill forgets that she speaks to the abbess of St. 
 Catherine." 
 
 " When I was what you call me," Stiid Magdalen, '*you 
 indeed were the abbess of St. Catherine ; but both names 
 are now gone, with all the rank that the world and that the 
 church gave to them ; and we are now, to the eye of human 
 judgment, two poor, despised, oppressed women, dragging 
 our dishonored old age to a humble grave. But what are 
 we in the eye of Heaven ? Ministers, sent forth to work 
 His will, in whose weakness the strength of the church shall 
 be manifested, before whom shall be humbled the wisdom 
 of Murray and the dark strength of Morton. And to such 
 wouldst thou apply the narrow rules of thy cloistered seclu- 
 sion ? or hast thou forgotten the order which I showed thee 
 from thy superior, subjecting thee to me in these matters ?" 
 
 " On thy head, then, be the scandal and the sin," said the 
 abbess, sullenly. 
 
 *' On mine be they both," said Magdalen. " I say, em- 
 brace each other, my children." 
 
 But Catherine, aware, perhaps, how the dispute was likely 
 to terminate, had escaped from the apartment, and so dis- 
 appointed the grandson at least as much as the old matron. 
 
 '' She is gone," said the abbess, '* to provide some little 
 refreshment. But it will have little savor to those who 
 dwell in the world ; for I, at least, cannot dispense with the 
 rules to which I am vowed, because it is the will of wicked 
 men to break down the sanctuary in which they wont to be 
 observed." 
 
98 WA VERLEY NOVEL S 
 
 '' It is well, my sister," replied Magdalen, ** to pay each 
 even the smallest tithes of mint and cummin which the 
 church demands, and I blame not thy scrupulous observance 
 of the rules of thine order. But they were established by 
 the church, and for the church's benefit ; and reason it is 
 that they should give way when the salvation of the church 
 herself is at stake/' 
 
 The abbess made no reply. 
 
 One more acquainted with human nature than the inex- 
 perienced page might have found amusement in comparing 
 the different kinds of fanaticism which these two females 
 exhibited. The abbess, timid, narrow-minded, and discon- 
 tended, clung to ancient usages and pretensions which were 
 ended by the Reformation, and was in adversity, as she had 
 been in prosperity, scrupulous, weak-spirited, and bigoted ; 
 while the fiery and more lofty spirit of her companion sug- 
 gested a wider field of effort, and would not be limited by 
 ordinary rules in the extraordinary schemes which were sug- 
 gested by her bold and irregular imagination. But Roland 
 Graeme, instead of tracing these peculiarities of character in 
 the two old dames, only waited with great anxiety for the 
 return of Catherine, expecting probably that the proposal of 
 the fraternal embrace would be renewed, as his grandmothei 
 seemed disposed to carry matters with a high hand. 
 
 His expectations, or hopes, if we may call them so, were, 
 however, disappointed ; for, when Catherine re-entered on 
 the summons of the abbess, and placed on the table an 
 earthen pitcher of water, and four wooden platters, with 
 cups of the same materials, the Dame of Heathergill, satis- 
 fied with the arbitrary mode in which she had borne down 
 the opposition of the abbess, pursued her victory no farther 
 — a moderation for which her grandson, in his heart, returned 
 her but slender thanks. 
 
 In the mean while, Catherine continued to place upon the 
 table the slender preparations for the meal of a recluse, which 
 consisted almost entirely of colewort, boiled, and served up 
 in a wooden platter, having no better seasoning than a little 
 salt, and no better accompaniment than some coarse barley- 
 bread in very moderate quantity. The water-pitcher al- 
 ready mentioned furnished the only beverage. After a Latin 
 grace, delivered by the abbess, the guests sat down to their 
 spare entertainment. The simplicity of the fare appeared 
 to produce no distaste in the females, who ate of it moder- 
 ately, but with the usual appearance of appetite. But Roland 
 Graeme had been used to better cheer. Sir Halbert Glendin- 
 
THE ABBOT 99 
 
 mng, who affected even an unusual degree of nobleness in 
 his housekeeping, maintained it in a style of genial hospi- 
 tality which rivaled that of the northern barons of England. 
 He might think, perhaps, that by doing so he acted yet more 
 completely the part for which he was born — that of a great 
 baron and a leader. Two bullocks and six sheep weekly 
 were the allowance when the baron was at home, and the 
 number was not greatly diminished during his absence. A 
 boll of malt was weekly brewed into ale, which was used by 
 the household at discretion. Bread was baked in proportion 
 for the consumption of his domestics and retainers ; and in 
 this scene of plenty had Roland Graeme now lived for several 
 years. It formed a bad introduction to lukewarm greens 
 and spring water ; and probably his countenance indicated 
 some sense of the difference, for the abbess observed, ^' It 
 would seem, my son, that the tables of the heretic baron, 
 whom you have so long followed, are more daintily furnished 
 than those of the suffering daughters of the church ; and 
 yet, not upon the most solemn nights of festival, when the 
 nuns were permitted to eat their portion at mine own table, 
 did I consider the cates which were then served up as half 
 so delicious as these vegetables and this water, on which I 
 prefer to feed, rather than do aught which may derogate 
 from the strictness of my vow. It shall never be said that 
 the mistress of this house made it a house of feasting when 
 days of darkness and of affliction were hanging over the Holy 
 Church, of which I am an unworthy member.^* 
 
 ''Well hast thou said, my sister,'^ replied Magdalen 
 Graeme ; " but now it is not only time to suffer in the good 
 cause, but to act in it. And since our pilgrim's meal is 
 finished, let us go apart to prepare for our journey of to- 
 morrow, and to advise on the manner in which these children 
 shall be employed, and what measures we can adopt to supply 
 their thoughtlessness and lack of discretion.^' 
 
 Notwithstanding his indifferent cheer, the heart of Roland 
 Graeme bounded high at this proposal, which he doubted not 
 would lead to another tete-d-tete betwixt him and the pretty 
 novice. But he was mistaken. Catherine, it would seem, 
 had no mind so far to indulge him ; for, moved either by 
 delicacy or caprice, or some of those indescribable shades be- 
 twixt the one or the other with which women love to tease, 
 and at the same time to captivate, the ruder sex, she re- 
 minded the abbess that it was necessary she should retire for 
 an hour before vespers ; and, receiving the ready and ap- 
 proving nod of her superior, she arose to withdraw. But, 
 
100 WAVXRLST N0VSL8 
 
 before leaving the apartment, she made obeisance to th« 
 matrons, bending herself till her hands touched her knees, 
 and then made a lesser reverence to Eoland, which consisted 
 in a slight bend of the body and gentle depression of the 
 head. This she performed very demurely ; but the party on 
 whom the salutation was conferred thought he could discern 
 in her manner an arch and mischievous exultation over his 
 secret disappointment. " The devil take the saucy girl,^^ he 
 thought in his heart, though the presence of the abbess should 
 have repressed all such profane imaginations, *' she is as hard- 
 hearted as the laughing hyaena that the story-books tell of ; 
 she has a mind that I shall not forget her this night at least/' 
 
 The matrons now retired also, giving the page to under- 
 stand that he was on no account to stir from the convent, or 
 to show himself at the windows, the abbess assigning as a 
 reason the readiness with which the rude heretics caught at 
 every occasion of scandalizing the religious orders. 
 
 '* This is worse than the rigor of Mr. Henry Warden him- 
 self,'' said the page, when he was left alone; "for, to do 
 him justice, however strict in requiring the most rigid at- 
 tention during the time of his homilies, he left us to the 
 freedom of our own wills afterwards ; ay, and would take a 
 share in our pastimes, too, if he thought them entirely inno- 
 cent. But these old women are utterly wrapt up in gloom, 
 mystery, and self-denial. Well, then, if I must neither stij 
 out of the gate nor look out at window, I will at least se6 
 what the inside of the house contains that may help to pass 
 away one's time ; peradventure I may light on that blue- 
 eyed laugher in some corner or other." 
 
 Going, therefore, out of the chamber by the entrance op- 
 posite to that through which the two matrons had departed 
 (for it may be readily supposed that he had no desire to in- 
 trude on their privacy), he wandered from one chamber ta 
 another, through the deserted edifice, seeking with boyish 
 eagerness some source of interest or amusement. Here he 
 passed through a long gallery, opening on either hand into 
 the little cells of the nuns, all deserted, and deprived of the 
 few trifling articles of furniture which the rules of the order 
 admitted. 
 
 '' The birds are flown," thought the page ; *'but whether 
 they will find themselves worse off in the open air than in 
 these damp narrow cages, I leave my lady abbess and my 
 venerable relative to settle betwixt them. I think the wild 
 voung lark whom they have lefr behind them would like 
 best to sing under God's free eky.** 
 
THE ABBOT . 101 
 
 A winding stair, strait and narrow, as if to remind the 
 nuns of their duties of fast and maceration, led down to a 
 lower suite of apartments, which occupied the ground story 
 of the house. These rooms were even more ruinous than 
 those which he had left ; for, having encountered the first 
 fury of the assailants by whom the nunnery had been 
 wasted, the windows had been dashed in, the doors broken 
 down, and even the partitions betwixt the apartments in 
 some places destroyed. As he thus stalked from desolation 
 to desolation, and began to think of returning from so unin- 
 teresting a research to the chamber which he had left, he 
 was surprised to hear the low of a cow very close to him. 
 The sound was so unexpected at the time and place that 
 Eoland Graeme started as if it had been the voice of a lion, 
 and laid his hand on his dagger, while at the same moment 
 the light and lovely form of Catherine Seyton presented itself 
 at the door of the apartment from which the sound had issued. 
 
 *' Good even to you, valiant champion ! ^' said she ; '* since 
 the days of Guy of Warwick, never was one more worthy to 
 encounter a dun cow.'' 
 
 *^ Gow ! '* said Roland Graeme, " by my faith, I thought it 
 had been the devil that roared so near me. Who ever heard 
 of a convent containing a cow-house ? " 
 
 '^ Cow and calf may come hither now," answered Cather- 
 ine, "for we have no means to keep out either. But I 
 advise you, kind sir, to return to the place from whence you 
 came.'* 
 
 " Not till I see your charge, fair sister,'' answered Ronald, 
 and made his way into the apartment, in spite of the half- 
 serious, half-laughing remonstrances of the girl. 
 
 The poor solitary cow, now the only severe recluse within 
 the nunnery, was quartered in a spacious chamber, which 
 had once been the refectory of the convent. The roof was 
 graced with groined arches, and the wall with niches, from 
 which the images had been pulled down. These remnants 
 of architectural ornaments were strangely contrasted with 
 the rude crib constructed for the cow in one corner of the 
 apartment, and the stack of fodder which was piled beside 
 it for her food. * 
 
 " By my faith," said the page, " Crombie is more lordly 
 lodged than any one here ! " 
 
 '' You had best remain with her," said Catherine, "and 
 supply by your filial attentions the offspring she has had tht 
 ill-luck to lose." 
 
 •S«e Nunnery of St. Bridget. Not« 6. 
 
102 WA VEHL^^ NOVELS 
 
 *'I will remain, at least, to help you to prepare her nigh t'l 
 lair, pretty Catherine,^' said Eonald, seizing upon a pitchfork. 
 
 *' By no means/' said Catherine ; '' for, besides that you 
 know not in the least how to do her that service, you will 
 bring a chiding my way, and I get enough of that in the 
 regular course of things." 
 
 "What! for accepting my assistance?" said the page — 
 " for accepting my assistance, who am to be your confeder- 
 ate in some deep matter of import ? That were altogether 
 unreasonable ; and, now I think on it, tell me, if you can, 
 what is this mighty emprise to which I am destined ? " 
 
 " Robbing a bird's nest, I should suppose," said Cather- 
 ine, " considering the champion whom they have selected." 
 
 " By my faith," said the youth, ** and he that has 
 taken a falcon's nest in the scaurs of Polmoodie has done 
 something to brag of, my fair sister. But that is all over 
 now : a murrain on the nest, and the eyases and their food, 
 washed or unwashed, for it was all anon of cramming these 
 worthless kites that I was sent upon my present travels. 
 Save that I have met with you, pretty sister, I conld eat my 
 dagger-hilt for vexation at my own folly. But, as we are to 
 be fellow-travelers " 
 
 *' Fellow-laborers, not fellow-travelers," answered the 
 girl ; " for to your comfort be it known, that the lady 
 abbess and I set out earlier than you and your respected 
 relative to-morrow, and that I partly endure your company 
 at present because it may be long ere we meet again." 
 
 *' By St. Andrew, but it shall not, though," answered 
 Roland; "I will not hunt at all unless we are to hunt in 
 couples." 
 
 ** I suspect, in that and in other points, we must do as we 
 are bid," replied the young lady. " But hark ! I hear my 
 aunt's voice." 
 
 The old lady entered in good earnest, and darted a severe 
 glance at her niece, while Roland had the ready wit to busy 
 himself about the halter of the cow. 
 
 " The young gentleman," said Catherine, gravely, " is 
 helping me to tie the cow up faster to her stake, for I find 
 that last night, when she put her head out of window and 
 lowed, she alarmed the whole village ; and we shall be sus- 
 pected of sorcery among the heretics if they do not discover 
 the cause of the apparition, or lose our cow if they do." 
 
 " Relieve yourself of that fear," said the abbess, somewhat 
 ironically ; *' the person to whom she is now sold comeg tof 
 the animal presently." 
 
THE ABBOT lOd 
 
 " Good night, then, my poor companion/' said Catherine, 
 patting the animal's shoulders ; " I hope thou hast fallen into 
 kind hands, for my happiest hours of late have been spent in 
 tending thee. I would I had been born to no better task ! " 
 
 *' Now, out upon thee, mean-spirited wench ! " said the 
 abbess ; "is that a speech worthy of the name of Seyton, or 
 of the mouth of a sister of this house, treading the path of 
 election ; and to be spoken before a stranger youth, too ! 
 Go to my oratory, minion ; there read your Hours till I come 
 thither, when I will read you such a lecture as shall make 
 you prize the blessings which you possess/' 
 
 Catherine was about to withdraw in silence, casting a half- 
 Borrowful, half-comic glance at Roland Graeme, which seemed 
 to say, " You see to what your untimely visit has exposed 
 me," when, suddenly changing her mind, she came forward 
 to the page, and extended her hand as she bid him good 
 evening. Their palms had pressed each other ere the aston- 
 ished matron could interfere, and Catherine had time to 
 say, '* Forgive me, mother ; it is long since we have seen a 
 face that looked with kindness on us. Since these disorders 
 have broken up our peaceful retreat all has been gloom and 
 malignity. I bid this youth kindly farewell, because he has 
 come hither in kindness, and because the odds are great that 
 we may never again meet in this world. I guess better than 
 he that the schemes on which you are rushing are too mighty 
 for your management, and that you are now setting the stone 
 a-rolling which must surely crush you in its descent. I bid 
 farewell,'* she added, *' to my fellow-victim ! '' 
 
 This was spoken with a tone of deep and serious feeling, 
 altogether different from the usual levity of Catherine's man- 
 ner, and plainly showed that, beneath the giddiness of ex- 
 treme youth and total inexperience, there lurked in her bosom 
 a deeper power of sense and feeling than her conduct had 
 hitherto expressed. 
 
 The abbess remained a moment silent after she had left the 
 room. The proposed rebuke died on her tongue, and she ap- 
 peared struck with the deep and foreboding tone in which 
 ner niece had spoken her good even. She led the way in 
 silence to the apartment which they had formerly occupied, 
 and where there was prepared a small refection, as the abbess 
 termed it, consisting of milk and barley-bread. Magdalen 
 Graeme, summoned to take share in this collation, appeared 
 from an adjoining apartment ; but Catherine was seen no 
 more. There was little said during the hasty meal, and 
 »ft§r it was finished Roland Graeme was dismissed to the 
 
104 WA VERLEY NO VELS 
 
 nearest cell, where some preparations had been made for his 
 repose. 
 
 The strange circumstances in which he found himself had 
 their usual effect in preventing slumber from hastily descend- 
 ing on him, and he could distinctly hear, by a low but earnest 
 murmuring in the apartment which he had left, that the 
 matrons continued in deep consultation to a late hour. As 
 they separated, he heard the abbess distinctly express herself 
 thus : '' In a word, my sister, 1 venerate your character and 
 the authority with which my superiors have invested you ; 
 yet it seems to me that, ere entering on this perilous course, 
 we should consult some of the fathers of the church.^' 
 
 '' And how and where are we to find a faithful bishop or 
 abbot at whom to ask counsel ? The faithful Eustatius is no 
 more : he is withdrawn from a world of evil, and from the 
 tyranny of heretics. May Heaven and Our Lady assoilzie 
 him of his sins, and abridge the penance of his mortal in- 
 firmities ! Where shall we find another with whom to take 
 counsel ? " 
 
 ** Heaven will provide for the church,^' said the abbess ; 
 *'and the faithful fathers who yet are suffered to remain in 
 the house of Kennaquhair will proceed to elect an abbot. 
 They will not suffer the staff to fall down, or the miter to be 
 unfilled, for the threats of heresy.'' 
 
 '* That will I learn to-morrow,'* said Magdalen Graeme : 
 '* yet who now takes the office of an hour, save to partake 
 with the spoilers in their work of plunder ? To-morrow will 
 tell us if one of the thousand saints who are sprung from the 
 house of St. Mary's continues to look down on it in its misery. 
 Farewell, my sister, we meet at Edinburgh." 
 
 *' Benedicite ! " answered the abbess, and they parted. 
 
 ''To Kennaquhair and to Edinburgh we bend our way," 
 thought Roland Graeme. " That information have I pur- 
 chased by a sleepless hour : it suits well with my purpose. 
 At Kennaquhair I shall see Father Ambrose ; at Edinburgh 
 I shall find the means of shaping my own course through this 
 bustling world, without burdening my affectionate relation *, 
 at Edinburgh, too, I shall see again the witching novice, with 
 her blue eyes and her provoking smile." He fell asleep, and 
 it was to dream of Catherine SeytoiL 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 What, Dagon up again ! I thought we had hurrd him 
 Down on the threshold never more to rise. 
 Bring wedge and ax ; and, neighbors, lend your hands, 
 And rive the idol into winter fagots I 
 
 Athelstane, or the Converted Dane, 
 
 Roland Gr^^me slept long and sound, and the snn waa 
 high over the horizon when the voice of his companion sum- 
 moned him to resume their pilgrimage ; and when, hastily 
 arranging his dress, he went to attend her call, the enthu- 
 siastic matron stood already at the threshold, prepared for 
 her journey. There was in all the deportment of this remark- 
 able woman a promptitude of execution, and a sternness of 
 perseverance, founded on the fanaticism which she nursed 
 so deeply, a^d which seemed to absorb all the ordinary pur- 
 poses and feelings of mortality. One only human affection 
 gleamed through her enthusiastic energies, like the broken 
 glimpses of the sun through the rising clouds of a storm. It 
 was her maternal fondness for her grandson — a fondness 
 carried almost to the verge of dotage in circumstances where 
 the Catholic religion was not concerned, but which gave 
 way instantly when it chanced either to thwart or come in 
 contact with the more settled purpose of her soul, and the 
 more devoted duty of her life. Her life she would willingly 
 have laid down to save the earthly object of her affection ; 
 but that object itself she was ready to hazard, and would 
 have been willing to sacrifice, could the restoration of the 
 Church of Rome have been purchased with his blood. Her 
 discourse by the way, excepting on the few occasions in which 
 her extreme love of her grandson found opportunity to dis- 
 play itself in anxiety for his health and accommodation, 
 turned entirely on the duty of raising up the fallen honors 
 of the church, and replacing a Catholic sovereign on the 
 throne. There were times at which she hinted, though very 
 obscurely and distantly, that she herself was foredoomed by 
 Heaven to perform a part in this important task ; and that 
 she had more than mere human warranty for the zeal with 
 which she engaged in it. But on this subject she expressed 
 herself in such general language that it was not easy to 
 
 106 
 
106 WAVERLET NOVELS 
 
 decide whether she made any actual pretensions to a direct 
 and supernatural call, like the celebrated Elizabeth Barton, 
 commonly called the N un of Kent ; * or whether she only 
 dwelt upon the general duty which was incumbent on all 
 Catholics of the time, and the pressure of which she felt in 
 an extraordinary degree. 
 
 Yet, though Magdalen Graeme gave no direct intimation 
 of her pretensions to be considered as something beyond the 
 ordinary class of mortals, the demeanor of one or two per- 
 sons amongst the travelers whom they occasionally met, as 
 they entered the more fertile and populous part of the 
 valley, seemed to indicate their belief in her superior 
 attributes. It is true that two clowns, who drove before 
 them a herd of cattle ; one or two village wenches, who seemed 
 bound for some merry-making ; a strolling soldier, in a 
 rusted morion ; and a wandering student, as his threadbare 
 black cloak and his satchel of books proclaimed him, passed 
 our travelers without observation, or with a look of con- 
 tempt ; and, moreover, that two or three children, attracted 
 by the appearance of a dress so nearly resembling that of a 
 pilgrim, joined in hooting and calling, '* Out upon the old 
 mass-monger ! " But one or two, who nourished in their bo- 
 soms respect for the downfallen hierarchy, casting first a 
 timorous glance around, to see that no one observed them, 
 hastily crossed themselves, bent their knee to Sister Mag- 
 dalen, by which name they saluted her, kissed her hand, or 
 even the hem of her dalmatique, received with humility the 
 henedicite with which she repaid their obeisance ; and then, 
 starting up, and again looking timidly round to see that 
 they had been unobserved, hastily resumed their journey. 
 Even while within sight of persons of the prevailing faith, 
 there were individuals bold enough, by folding their arms and 
 bending their head, to give distant ^.jd silent intimation 
 that they recognized Sister Magdalen, and honored alike her 
 person and her purpose. 
 
 She failed not to notice to her grandson these marks of 
 honor and respect which from time to time she received. 
 ** You see,'* she said, " my son, that the enemies have been 
 unable altogether to suppress the good spirit, or to root out 
 the true seed. Amid heretics and schismatics, spoilers of 
 the churches lands, and scoffers at sacraments, there is left a 
 remnant.** 
 
 " It is true, my mother,** said Roland Graeme ; *' but me- 
 thinks they are of a quality which can help us but little, 
 
 * See Note 6. 
 
THE ABBOT 101 
 
 See you not all those who wear steel at their side, and hear 
 marks of better quality, ruffle past us as they would pass the 
 meanest beggars ? for those who give us any marks of sym- 
 pathy are the poorest of the poor, and most outcast of the 
 needy, who have neither bread to share with us, nor swords 
 to defend us, nor skill to use them if they had. That poor 
 wretch that last kneeled to you with such deep devotion, and 
 who seemed emaciated by the touch of some wasting disease 
 within, and the grasp of poverty without — that pale, shiver- 
 ing, miserable caitiff, how can he aid the great schemes you 
 meditate V 
 
 *'Much, my son,'* said the matron, with more mildness 
 than the page perhaps expected. *' When that pious son of 
 the church returns from the shrine of St. Ringan, whither 
 he now travels by my counsel, and by the aid of good Catho- 
 lics — when he returns healed of his wasting malady, high in 
 health and strong in limb, will not the glory of his faithful- 
 ness, and its miraculous reward, speak louder in the ears of 
 this besotted people of Scotland than the din which is weekly 
 made in a thousand heretical pulpits ? " 
 
 " Ay, but, mother, I fear the saint's hand is out. It is 
 long since we have heard of a miracle performed at St. 
 Ringan's.'' 
 
 The matron made a dead pause, and, with a voice tremulous 
 with emotion, asked, '* Art thou so unhappy as to doubt the 
 power of the blessed saint ? " 
 
 '' Nay, mother,'' the youth hastened to reply, ** I believe 
 as the Holy Church commands, and doubt not St. Ringan's 
 power of healing ; but, be it said with reverence, he hath 
 not of late showed the inclination." 
 
 *' And has this land deserved it ? " said the Catholic ma- 
 tron, advancing hastily while she spoke, until she attained 
 the summit of a rising ground, over which the path led, and 
 then standing again still. *^ Here," she said, '* stood the 
 cross, the limits of the halidome of St. Mary's — here, on this 
 eminence, from which the eye of the holy pilgrim might first 
 catch a view of that ancient monastery, the light of the land, 
 the abode of saints, and the grave of monarchs. Where is 
 now that emblem of our faith ? It lies on the earth a shape- 
 less block, from which the broken fragments have been car- 
 ried off, for the meanest uses, till now no semblance of its 
 original form remains. Look towards the east, my son, 
 where the sun was wont to glitter on stately spires, from 
 which crosses and bells have now been hurled, as if the land 
 had been invaded once more by barbarous heathens — look ftt 
 
108 WA VERLEY NOVELS 
 
 yonder battlements, of which we can, even at this distance, 
 descry the partial demolition ; and ask if this land can ex- 
 
 Eect from the blessed saints, whose shrines and whose images 
 ave been profaned, any other miracles but those of venge- 
 ance ? How long,^' she exclaimed, looking upward — ** how 
 long shall it be delayed ? " She paused, and then resumed 
 with enthusiastic rapidity, ** Yes, my son, all on earth is but 
 for a period : joy and grief, triumph and desolation, sncceed 
 each other like cloud and sunshine ; the vineyard shall not 
 be forever trodden down, the gaps shall be amended, and the 
 fruitful branches once more dressed and trimmed. Even 
 this day — ay, even this hour, I trust to hear news of impor 
 tance. Dally not — let us on ; time is brief, and judgmenc 
 is certain/' 
 
 She resumed the path which led to the abbey — a path 
 which, in ancient times, was carefully marked out by posts 
 and rails, to assist the pilgrim in his journey ; these were 
 now torn up and destroyed. An half-hour^s walk placed 
 them in front of the once splendid monastery, which, al- 
 though the church was as yet entire, had not escaped the 
 fury of the times. The long range of cells and of apart- 
 ments for the use of the brethren, which occupied two sides 
 of the great square, were almost entirely ruinous, the in- 
 terior having been consumed by fire, which only the massive 
 architecture of the outward walls had enabled them to resist, 
 The abbot's house, which formed the third side of the square, 
 was, though injured, still inhabited, and afforded refuge to 
 the few brethren who yet, rather by connivance than by 
 actual authority, were permitted to remain at Kennaquhair. 
 Their stately offices, their pleasant gardens, the magnificent 
 cloisters constructed for their recreation, were all dilapidated 
 and ruinous ; and some of the building materials had ap- 
 parently been put into requisition by persons in the village 
 and in the vicinity, who, formerly vassals of the monastery, 
 had not hesitated to appropriate to themselves a part of the 
 spoils. Eoland saw fragments of Gothic pillars, richly 
 carved, occupying the place of door-posts to the meanest 
 huts ; and here and there a mutilated statue, inverted or 
 laid on its side, made the door-post or threshold of a wretched 
 cow-house. The church itself was less injured than the 
 other buildings of the monastery. But the images which 
 had been placed in the numerous niches of its columns and 
 buttresses, having all fallen under the charge of idolatry, to 
 which the superstitious devotion of the Papists had justly 
 exposed them, had been broken and thrown down, without 
 
THE ABBOT lOfi 
 
 much regard to the preservation of the rich and airy cano- 
 pies and pedestals on which they were placed ; nor, if the 
 devastation had stopped short at this point, could we have 
 considered the preservation of these monuments of antiquity 
 as an object to be put in the balance with the introduction 
 of the Eeformed worship. 
 
 Our pilgrims saw the demolition of these sacred and vener- 
 able representations of saints and angels — for as sacred and 
 venerable- they had been taught to consider them — with very 
 different feelings. The antiquary may be permitted to regret 
 the necessity of the action, but to Magdalen Graeme it seemed 
 a deed of impiety, deserving the instant vengeance of Heaven 
 — a sentiment in which her relative joined for the moment 
 as cordially as herself. Neither, however, gave vent to their 
 feelings in words, and uplifted hands and eyes formed their 
 only mode of expressing them. The page was about to ap- 
 proach the great eastern gate of the church, but was pre- 
 vented by his guide. ^' That gate,"" she said, ^' has long 
 been blockaded, that the heretical rabble may not know 
 there still exist among the brethren of St. Mary^s men who 
 dare worship where their predecessors prayed while alive, 
 and were interred when dead ; follow me this way, my 
 son.'* 
 
 Roland Graeme followed accordingly ; and Magdalen, cast- 
 ing a hasty glance to see whether they were observed (for 
 she had learned caution from the danger of the times), com- 
 manded her grandson to knock at a little wicket which she 
 pointed out to him. " But knock gently," she added, with 
 a motion expressive of caution. After a little space, during 
 which no answer was returned, she signed to Roland to repeat 
 his summons for admission ; and the door at length par- 
 tially opening, discovered a glimpse of the thin and timid 
 porter, by whom the duty was performed, skulking from the 
 observation of those who stood without, but endeavoring at 
 the same time to gain a sight of them without being himself . 
 seen. How different from the proud consciousness of dignity 
 with which the porter of ancient days offered his important 
 brow and his goodly person to the pilgrims who repaired to 
 Kennaquhair T His solemn " Intrate, met filii" was ex- 
 changed for a tremulous '^ You cannot enter now : the 
 brethren are in their chambers." But when Magdalen 
 Graeme asked, in an under tone of voice, '* Hast thou for- 
 gotten me, my brother ? " he changed his apologetic refusal 
 to " Enter, my honored sister — enter speedily, for evil eyea 
 are upon us/' 
 
110 WA VERLEY NOVELS 
 
 They entered accordingly, and having waited until the 
 porter had, with jealous haste, barred and bolted the wicket 
 were conducted by him through several dark and winding 
 passages. As they walked slowly on, he spoke to the ma- 
 tron in a subdued voice, as if he feared to trust the very walls 
 with the avowal which he communicated. 
 
 *'Our fathers are assembled in the chapter-house, worthy 
 sister — yes, in the chapter-house — for the election of an 
 abbot. Ah, henedicite ! there must be no ringing of bells — 
 no high mass — no opening of the great gates now, that the 
 people might see and venerate their spiritual father ! Our 
 fathers must hide themselves rather like robbers who choose 
 a leader than godly priests who elect a mitered abbot." 
 
 " Regard not that, my brother," answered Magdalen 
 Graeme ; " the first successors of St. Peter himself were elect- 
 ed, not in sunshine, but in tempest ; not in the halls of the 
 Vatican, but in the subterranean vaults and dungeons of 
 heathen Rome ; they were not gratulated with shouts and 
 salvos of cannon-shot and of musketry, and the display of 
 artificial fire — no, my brother, but by the hoarse summons 
 of lictors and praetors, who came to drag the fathers of the 
 church to martyrdom. From such adversity was the church 
 once raised, and by such will it now be purified. And mark 
 me, brother ! not in the proudest days of the mitered r^bbey 
 was a superior ever chosen whom his office shall so much 
 honor as he shall be honored who now takes it upon him in 
 these days of tribulation. On whom, my brother, will the 
 choice fall?" 
 
 ** On whom can it fall — or, alas ! who would dare to re- 
 ply to the call — save the worthy pu pil of the sainted Eusta- 
 tius, the good and valiant Father Ambrose ?" 
 
 *'I know it," said Magdalen ; '^my heart told me, long 
 ere your lips had uttered his name. Stand forth, courageous 
 champion, and man the fatal breach ! Rise, bold and ex- 
 perienced pilot, and seize the helm while the tempest rages ! 
 Turn back the battle, brave raiser of the fallen standard ! 
 Wield crook and sling, noble shepherd of a scattered 
 flock." 
 
 *' I pray you, hush, my sister I '' said the porter, opening 
 a door which led into the great church, *' the brethren will 
 be presently here to celebrate their election with a solemn 
 mass ; I must marshal them the way to the high altar : all 
 the offices of this venerable house have now devolved oq 
 one poor decrepit old man." 
 
 He left the church, and Magdalen and Roland remained 
 
THE ABBOT 111 
 
 ftlone in that great vaulted space, whose style of rich yet 
 chaste architecture referred its origin to the early part of the 
 14th century, the best period of Gothic building. But the 
 niches were stripped of their images in the inside as well as 
 the outside of the church ; and in the pell-mell havoc the 
 tombs of warriors and of princes had been included in the 
 demolition of the idolatrous shrines. Lances and swords 
 of antique size, which had hung over the tombs of mighty war- 
 riors of former days, lay now strewn among relics with 
 which the devotion of pilgrims had graced those of their 
 peculiar saints ; and the fragments of the knights and dames, 
 which had once lain recumbent, or kneeled in an attitude of 
 devotion, where their mortal relics were reposed, were min- 
 gled with those of the saints and angels of the Gothic chisel 
 which the hand of violence had sent headlong from their 
 stations. 
 
 The most fatal symptom of the whole appeared to be that, 
 though this violence had now been committed for many 
 months, the fathers had lost so totally all heart and resolu- 
 tion that they had not adventured even upon clearing away 
 the rubbish, or restoring the church to some decent degree 
 of order. This might have been done without much labor. 
 But terror had overpowered the scanty remains of a body 
 once so powerful, and, sensible they were only suffered to 
 remain in this ancient seat by connivance and from com- 
 passion, they did not venture upon taking any step which 
 might be construed into an assertion of their ancient rights, 
 contenting themselves with the secret and obscure exercise 
 of their religious ceremonial, in as unostentatious a manner 
 as was possible. 
 
 Two or three of the more aged brethren had sunk under 
 the pressure of the times, and the ruins had been partly 
 cleared away to permit their interment. One stone had 
 been laid over Father Nicolas, which recorded of him in 
 special that he had taken the vows during the incumbency 
 of Abbot Ingelram, the period to which his memory so fre- 
 quently recurred. Another flagstone, yet more recently de- 
 posited, covered the body of Philip the sacristan, eminent 
 for his aquatic excursion with the phantom of Avenel ; and 
 a third, the most recent of all, bore the outline of a miter, 
 and the words Hicjacet Eustatius Ahhas ; for no one dared 
 to add a word of commendation in favor of his learning an^ 
 strenuous zeal for the Roman Catholic faith. 
 
 Magdalen Graeme looked at and perused the brief records 
 of these monuments successively, and paused over that of 
 
112 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 Father Eustace, '^ In a good hour for thyself/* she said, 
 ** but oh ! in an evil hour for the church, wert thou called 
 from us. Let thy spirit be with us, holy man ; encourage 
 thy successor to tread in thy footsteps ; give him thy bold 
 and inventive capacity, thy zeal, and thy discretion ; even 
 thy piety exceeds not his/* As she spoke, a side door, which 
 closed a passage from the abbot's house into the church, was 
 thrown open, that the fathers might enter the choir, and 
 conduct to the high altar the superior whom they had 
 elected. 
 
 In former times, this was one of the most splendid of the 
 many pageants which the hierarchy of Eome had devised to 
 attract the veneration of the faithful. The period during 
 which the abbacy remained vacant was a state of mourning, 
 or, as their emblematical phrase expressed it, of widowhood 
 — a melancholy term, which was changed into rejoicing and 
 triumph when a new superior was chosen. When the fold- 
 ing doors were on such solemn occasions thrown open, and 
 the new abbot appeared on the threshold in full-blown 
 dignity,, with ring and miter, and dalmatique and crosier, 
 his hoary standard-bearers and his juvenile dispensers of 
 incense-preceding him, and the venerable train of monks 
 behind him, with all besides which could announce the 
 supreme authority to which he was now raised, his appear- 
 ance was a signal for the magnificent Jiihilate to rise from 
 the organ and music-loft, and to be joined by the corre- 
 sponding bursts of Alleluiah from the whole assembled con- 
 gregation. Now all was changed. In the midst of rubbish 
 and desolation, seven or eight old men, bent and shaken, as 
 much by grief and fear as by age, shrouded hastily in the 
 proscribed dress of their order, wandered like a procession 
 of specters from the door which had been thrown open, up 
 through the encumbered passage to the high altar, there to 
 install their elected superior a chiof of ruins. It was like a 
 band of bewildered travelers choosing a chief in the wilder- 
 ness of Arabia ; or a shipwrecked crew electing a captain 
 upon the barren island on which fate has thrown them. 
 
 They who, in peaceful times, are most ambitious of 
 authority among others, shrink from the competition at such 
 eventful periods, when neither ease nor parade attend the 
 possession of it, and when it gives only a painful pre- 
 eminence both in danger and in labor, and exposes the ill- 
 fated chieftain to the murmurs of his discontented associates^ 
 as well as to the first assault of the common enemy. But 
 he on whom the offices of the Abbot of St. Mary's was now 
 
THE ABBOT 111 
 
 conferred had a mind fitted for the situation to which he 
 was called. Bold and enthusiastic, yet generous and for- 
 giving ; wise and skilful, yet zealous and prompt, he wanted 
 but a better cause than the support of a decaying supersti- 
 tion to have raised him to the rank of a truly great man. 
 But as the end crowns the work, it also forms the rule by 
 which it must be ultimately judged ; and those who, with 
 sincerity and generosity, fight and fall in an evil cause, 
 posterity can only compassionate as victims of a generous 
 but fatal error. Amongst these we must rank Ambrosius, 
 the last abbot of Kennaquhair, whose designs must be cx)n- 
 demned, as their success would have riveted on Scotland the 
 chains of antiquated superstition and spiritual tyranny ; but 
 whose talents commanded respect, and whose virtues, even 
 from the enemies of his faith, extorted esteem. 
 
 The bearing of the new abbot served of itself to dignify 
 a ceremonial which was deprived of all other attributes of 
 grandeur. Conscious of the peril in which they stood, and 
 recalling, doubtless, the better days they had seen, there 
 hung over his brethren an appearance of mingled terror, and 
 grief, and shame, which induced them to hurry over the 
 office in which they were engaged, as something at once 
 degrading and dangerous. 
 
 But not so Father Ambrose. His features, indeed, ex- 
 pressed a deep melancholy, as he walked up the center aisle, 
 amid the ruin of things which he considered as holy, but 
 his brow was undejected, and his step firm and solemn. He 
 seemed to think that the dominion which he was about to 
 receive depended in no sort upon the external circumstances 
 under which it was conferred ; and if a mind so firm was 
 accessible to sorrow or fear, it was not on his own account, 
 but on that of the church to which he had devoted himself. 
 
 At length he stood on the broken steps of the high altar, 
 barefooted, as was the rule, and holding in his hand his 
 pastoral staif, for the gemmed ring and jeweled miter had 
 become secular spoils. No obedient vassals came, man after 
 man, to make their homage and to offer the tribute which 
 should provide their spiritual superior with palfrey and 
 trappings. No bishop assisted at the solemnity, to receive 
 into the higher ranks of the church nobility a dignitary 
 whose voice in the legislature was as potential as his own. 
 With hasty and maimed rites, the few remaining brethren 
 stepped forward alternately to give their new abbot the kisa 
 of peace, in token of fraternal affection and spiritual homage. 
 Mass was then hastily performed, but in such precipitation 
 
114 WAVERLET N0VEL8 
 
 as if it had been hurried over rather to satisfy the scruples 
 of a few youths., who were impatient to set out on a hunting 
 party,* than as if it made the most solemn part of a solemn 
 ordination. The officiating priest faltered as he spoke the 
 service, and often looked around, as if he expected to be 
 interrupted in the midst of his office ; and the brethren 
 listened as to that which, short as it was, they wished yet 
 more abridged. 
 
 These symptoms of alarm increased as the ceremony pro- 
 ceeded, and, as it seemed, were not caused by mere appre- 
 hension alone ; for, amid the pauses of the hymn, there were 
 heard without sounds of a very different sort, beginning 
 faintly and at a distance, but at length approaching close 
 to the exterior of the church, and stunning with dissonant 
 clamor those engaged in the service. The winding of horns, 
 blown with no regard to harmony or concert ; the jangling 
 of bells, the thumping of drums, the squeaking of bagpipes, 
 and the clash of cymbals ; the shouts of a multitude, now 
 as in laughter, now as in anger ; the shrill tones of female 
 voices, and of those of children, mingling with the deeper 
 clamors of men, formed a Babel of sounds, which first 
 drowned, ai^id then awed into utter silence, the official hymns 
 of the convent. The cause and result of this extraordinary 
 interruption will be explained in the next chapter. 
 
 *See Hunting Mass. Note 7. 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 Not the wild billow, when it breaks its barrier. 
 Not the wild wind, escaping from its cavern, 
 Not the wild fiend, that mingles both together, 
 And pours their rage upon the ripening harvest. 
 Can match the wild freaks of this mirthful meeting-^ 
 Comic, yet fearful ; droll, and yet destructive. 
 
 The Csnspiracff, 
 
 The monks ceased their song, which, like that of the chor- 
 isters in the legend of the Witch of Berkley, died away in a 
 quaver of consternation ; and like a flock of chickens dis- 
 turbed by the presence of the kite, they at first made a 
 movement to disperse and fly in different directions, and 
 then, with despair rather than hope, huddled themselves 
 around their new abbot ; who, retaining the lofty and un- 
 dismayed look which had dignified him through the whole 
 ceremony, stood on the higher step of the altar, as if 
 desirous to be the most conspicuous mark on which danger 
 might discharge itself, and to save his companions by his 
 self-devotion, since he could afford them no other protec- 
 tion. 
 
 Involuntarily, as it were, Magdalen Graeme and the page 
 stepped from the station which hitherto they had occupied 
 unnoticed, and approached to the altar, as desirous of shar- 
 ing the fate which approached the monks, whatever that 
 might be. Both bowed reverently low to the abbot ; and 
 while Magdalen seemed about to speak, the youth, looking 
 towards the main entrance, at which the noise now roared 
 most loudly, and which was at the same time assailed with 
 much knocking, laid his hand upon his dagger. 
 
 The abbot motioned to both to forbear. *' Peace, my 
 sister," he said, in a low tone, but which, being in a dif- 
 ferent key from the tumultuary sounds without, could be 
 distinctly heard even amidst the tumult — ^' peace," he said, 
 '*my sister; let the new superior of St. Mary's himself re- 
 ceive and reply to the grateful acclamations of the vassals 
 who come to celebrate his installation. And thou, my son 
 forbear, I charge thee, to touch thy earthly weapon: if it ig 
 
 116 
 
lia )VAVEBLET NOVELS 
 
 the pleasure of onr protectress that her shrine be this day 
 desecrated by deeds of violence, and polluted by blood -shed- 
 ding, let it not, I charge thee, happen through the deed of 
 a Catholic son of the church/' 
 
 The noise and knocking at the outer gate became now 
 every moment louder, and voices were heard impatiently de- 
 manding admittance. The abbot, with dignity, and with a 
 step which even the emergency of danger rendered neither 
 faltering nor precipitate, moved towards the portal, and de- 
 manded to know, in a tone of authority, who it was that dis- 
 turbed their worship, and what they desired/' 
 
 There was a moment's silence, and then a loud laugh from 
 tvithout. At length a voice replied, '* We desire entrance 
 into the church ; and when the door is opened you will soon 
 see who we are." 
 
 *^ By whose authority do you require entrance ?" said tha 
 father. 
 
 " By authority of the right reverend Lord Abbot of Un- 
 reason," * replied the voice from without ; and, from the 
 laugh which followed, it seemed as if there was something 
 highly ludicrous crouched under this reply. 
 
 ** I know not, and seek not to know, your meaning," re- 
 plied the abbot, " since it is probably a rude one. But be- 
 gone, in the name of God, and leave His servants in peace. 
 I speak this as having lawful authority to command here." 
 
 " Open the door," said another rude voice, **and we will 
 try titles with you, sir monk, and show you a superior we 
 must all obey." 
 
 *' Break open the doors if he dallies any longer," said a 
 third, '" and down with the carrion monks who would bar us 
 of our privilege ! A general shout followed. Ay, ay, our 
 privilege ! — our privilege ! Down with the doors, and with 
 the lurdane monks if they make opposition ! " 
 
 The knocking was now exchanged for blows with great 
 hammers, to which the doors, strong as they were, must soon 
 have given way. But the abbot, who saw resistance would 
 be vain, and who did not wish to incense the assailants by an 
 attempt at offering it, besought silence earnestly, and with 
 difficulty obtained a hearing. ^' My children," said he, '*" I 
 will save you from committing a great sin. The porter will 
 presently undo the gate — he is gone to fetch the keys ; mean- 
 time I pray you to consider with yourselves if you are in a 
 state of mind to cross the holy threshold." 
 
 ** Tilly valley for your Papistry ! " was answered from with- 
 
 » See Note 8. 
 
fiiliiwmiiniii'fii'iiiiiii!fl,ni"i'P: 
 1 1 
 
 
 ** The appearance of the crowd v\as grotesque in the extreme.''' 
 
THE ABBOT 117 
 
 out ; *' we are in the mood of the monks when they arfl 
 merriest, and that is when they sup beef-brewis for lenten- 
 kail. So, if your porter hath not the gout, let him come 
 Bpeedily, or we heave away readily. Said I well, comrades ? " 
 
 '* Bravely said, and it shall be as bravely done," said the 
 multitude ; and had not the keys arrived at that moment, 
 and the porter in hasty terror performed his office, throwing 
 open the great door, the populace would have saved him the 
 trouble. The instant he had done so, the affrighted janitor 
 fled, like one who has drawn the bolts of a flood-gate, and 
 expects to be overwhelmed by the rushing inundation. The 
 monks, with one consent, had withdrawn themselves behind 
 the abbot, who alone kept his station, about three yards 
 from the entrance, showing no signs of fear or perturbation. 
 His brethren, partly encouraged by his devotion, partly 
 ashamed to desert him, and partly animated by a sense of 
 daty, remained huddled close together at the back of their 
 superior. There was a loud laugh and huzza when the doors 
 were opened ; but, contrary to what might have been ex- 
 pected, no crowd of enraged assailants rushed into the church. 
 On the contrary, there was a cry of '^ A halt ! — a halt ! to 
 order, my masters ! and let the two reverend fathers greet 
 each other, as beseems them." 
 
 The appearance of the crowd who were thus called to 
 order was grotesque in the extreme. It was composed of men, 
 women, and children, ludicrously disguised in various habits, 
 and presenting groups equally diversified and grotesque. 
 Here one fellow with a horse's head painted before him, and 
 a tail behind, and the whole covered with a long foot-cloth, 
 which was supposed to hide the body of the animal, ambled, 
 caracoled, pranced, and plunged, as he performed the cele- 
 brated part of the hobby-horse,* so often alluded to in our 
 ancient drama, and which still flourishes on the stage in the 
 battle that concludes Bayes's tragedy. To rival the address 
 and agility displayed by this character, another personage 
 advanced, in the more formidable character of a huge dragon, 
 with gilded wings, open jaws, and a scarlet tongue, cloven 
 at the end, which made various efforts to overtake and de- 
 vour a lad, dressed as the lovely Sabaea, daughter of the King 
 of Egypt, who fled before him ; while a martial St. George, 
 grotesquely armed with a goblet for a helmet and a spit for 
 a lance, ever and anon interfered, and compelled the mon- 
 ster to relinquish his prey. A bear, a wolf, and one or two 
 other wild animals, played their parts with the discretion of 
 
 » See Note 0. 
 
118 WAVEBLET NOVELS 
 
 Snug the joiner ; for the decided preference which they gave 
 to the use of their hind legs was sufficient, without any 
 formal annunciation, to assure the most timorous spectators 
 that they had to do with habitual bipeds. There was a group 
 of outlaws, with Robin Hood and Little John at their head * 
 — the best representation exhibited at the time ; and no 
 great wonder, since most of the actors were, by profession, 
 the banished men and thieves whom they presented. Othei 
 masqueraders there were, of a less marked description. Men 
 were disguised as women, and women as men ; children wore 
 the dress of aged people, and tottered with crutch-sticks in 
 their hands, furred gowns on their little backs, and caps on 
 their round heads ; while grandsires assumed the infantine 
 tone as well as the dress of children. Besides these, many 
 had their faces painted, and wore their shirts over the rest 
 of their dress ; while colored pasteboard and ribbons fur- 
 nished out decorations for others. Those who wanted all 
 these properties, blacked their faces, and turned their 
 jackets inside out ; and thus the transmutation of the whole 
 assembly into a set of mad grotesque mummers was at once 
 completed. 
 
 The pause which the masqueraders made, waiting appar- 
 ently for some person of the highest authority amongst 
 them, gave those within the abbey church full time to ob- 
 serve all these absurdities. They were at no loss to compre- 
 hend their purpose and meaning. 
 
 Few readers can be ignorant that, at an early period, and 
 during the plenitude of her power, the Church of Rome not 
 only connived at, but even encouraged, such saturnalian 
 licenses as the inhabitants of Kennaquhair and the neighbor- 
 hood had now in hand, and that the vulgar, on such occa- 
 sions, were not only permitted but encouraged, by a number 
 of gambols, sometimes puerile and ludicrous, sometimes 
 immoral and profane, to indemnify themselves for the 
 T)rivations and penances imposed on them at other seasons. 
 But, of all other topics for burlesque and ridicule, the rites and 
 ceremonial of the church itself were most frequently resorted 
 to ; and, strange to say, with the approbation of the clergy 
 themselves. 
 
 While the hierarchy flourished in full glory, they do not 
 appear to have dreaded the consequences of suffering the 
 people to become so irreverently familiar with things sacred : 
 they then imagined the laity to be much in the condition of 
 A laborer's horse, which does not submit to the bridle and 
 ♦ See Note 10. 
 
THE ABBOT 119 
 
 the whip with greater reluctance because, at rare interrals, 
 he is allowed to frolic at large in his pasture, and fling out 
 his heels in clumsy gambols at the master who usually drives 
 him. But, when times changed — when doubt of the Roman 
 Catholic doctrine, and hatred of their priesthood, had 
 possessed the Eeformed party — the clergy discovered, too 
 late, that no small inconvenience arose from the established 
 practise of games and merry-makings, in which they them- 
 selves, and all they held most sacred, were made the subject 
 of ridicule. It then became obvious to duller politicians 
 than the Romish churchmen, that the same actions have a 
 very different tendency when done in the spirit of sarcastic 
 insolence and hatred, than when acted merely in exuberance 
 of rude and uncontrollable spirits. They, therefore, though 
 of the latest, endeavored, where they had any remaining in- 
 fluence, to discourage the renewal of these indecorous festiv- 
 ities. In this particular, the Catholic clergy were joined 
 by most of the Reformed preachers, who were more shocked 
 at the profanity and immorality of many of these exhibitions 
 than disposed to profit by the ridiculous light in which they 
 placed the Church of Rome and her observances. But it was 
 long ere these scandalous and immoral sports could be abro- 
 gated : the rude multitude continued attached to their 
 favorite pastimes ; and, both in England and Scotland, the 
 miter of the Catholic, the rocket of the Reformed bishop, 
 and the cloak and band of the Calvinistic divine, were, in 
 turn, compelled to give place to those jocular personages, the 
 Pope of Fools, the Boy Bishop, and the Abbot of Unreason.* 
 It was the latter personage who now, in full costume, made 
 his approach to the great door of the church of St. Mary's, 
 accoutered in such a manner as to form a caricature, or prac- 
 tical parody, on the costume and attendants of the real 
 superior, whom he came to beard on the very day of his in- 
 stallation, in the presence of his clergy, and in the chancel 
 of his church. The mock dignitary was a stout-made, 
 under-sized fellow, whose thick squab form had been ren- 
 dered grotesque by a supplemental paunch, well stuffed. 
 He wore a miter of leather, with the front like a grenadier's 
 cap, adorned with mock embroidery and trinkets of tin. 
 This surmounted a visage the nose of which was the most 
 prominent feature, being of unusual size, and at least as 
 richly gemmed as his head-gear. His robe was of buckram, 
 and his cope of canvas, curiously painted, and cut into open 
 
 * From the interesting novel entitled Anastasius. it seems th« 
 tame burlesque ceremonies were practised in the Greek Church. 
 
120 WA VEBLEY NO VEL8 
 
 work. On one shoulder was fixed the painted figure of an 
 owl ; and he bore in the right hand his pastoral staff, and in 
 the left a small mirror having a handle to it, thus resembnng 
 a celebrated jester, whose adventures, translated into Eng- 
 lish, were whilom extremely popular, and which may still 
 be procured in black letter for about one sterling pound per 
 leaf. 
 
 The attendants of this mock dignitary had their proper 
 dresses and equipage, bearing the same burlesque resemblance 
 to the officers of the convent which their leader did to the 
 superior. They followed their leader in regular procession, 
 and the motley characters, which had waited his arrival, now 
 crowded into the church in his train, shouting as they came 
 — *' A hall — a hall ! for the venerable Father Howleglas, the 
 learned Monk of Misrule, and the Eight Reverend Abbot of 
 Unreason I " 
 
 The discordant minstrelsy of every kind renewed its din : 
 the boys shrieked and howled, and the men laughed and 
 hallooed, and the women giggled and screamed, and the 
 beasts roared, and the dragon walloped and hissed, and the 
 hobby-horse neighed, pranced, and capered, and the rest 
 frisked and frolicked, clashing their hobnailed shoes against 
 the pavement, till it sparkled with the marks of their ener- 
 getic caprioles. 
 
 It was, in fine, a scene of ridiculous confusion, that deaf- 
 ened the ear, made the eyes giddy, and must have altogether 
 stunned any indifferent spectator ; the monks, whom personal 
 apprehension and a consciousness that much of the popular 
 enjoyment arose from the ridicule being directed against 
 them, were, moreover, little comforted by the reflection that, 
 bold in their disguise, the mummers who whooped and 
 capered around them might, on slight provocation, turn their 
 jest into earnest, or at least proceed to those practical pleas- 
 antries which at all times arise so naturally out of the frol- 
 icsome and mischievous disposition of the populace. They 
 looked to their abbot amid the tumult, with such looks as 
 landsmen cast upon the pilot when the storm is at the high- 
 est — looks which express that they are devoid of all hope 
 arising from their own exertions, and not very confident in 
 any success likely to attend those of their Palinurus. 
 
 The abbot himself seemed at a stand ; he felt no fear, but 
 he was sensible of the danger of expressing his rising indig- 
 nation, which he was scarcely able to suppress. He made a 
 gesture with his hand as if commanding silence, which was 
 at first only replied to by redoubled shouts, and peals of wild 
 
TB a ABBOT 121 
 
 langhter. "When, however, the same motion, and as nearly 
 in the same manner, had been made by Hpwleglas, it was 
 immediately obeyed by his riotous companions, who ex- 
 pected fresh food for mirth in the conversation betwixt the 
 real and mock abbot, having no small confidence in the vul- 
 gar wit and impudence of their leader. Accordingly, they 
 began to shout, " To it, fathers — to it ! " '' Fight monk, 
 fight madcap : abbot against abbot is fair play, and so is 
 reason against unreason, and malice against monkery ! " 
 
 "Silence, my mates !''■' said Howleglas ; ''cannot two 
 learned fathers of the church hold communing together, but 
 you must come here with your beer-garden whoop and halloo, 
 as if you were hounding forth a mastiff upon a mad bull ? 
 I say, silence ! and let this learned father and me confer 
 touching matters affecting our mutual state and authority/^ 
 
 *' My children " said Father Ambrose. 
 
 *' J/?/ children too — and happy children they are !^' said 
 his burlesque counterpart ; '' many a wise child knows not its 
 own father, and it is well they have two to choose betwixt." 
 
 '' If thou hast aught in thee, save scoffing and ribaldry," 
 said the real abbot, '^ permit me, for thine own souFs sake, 
 to speak ^ '^>w words to these misguided men." 
 
 ** Aughi a me but scoffiing, say'st tliou ?" retorted the 
 Abbot of Ui reason ; *' why, reverend brother, I ha^ve all that 
 becomes mine office at this time a-day : I have beef, ale, and 
 brandy-wine, with other condiments not worth mentioning ; 
 and for speaking, man — why, speak away, and we will have 
 turn about, like honest fellows. 
 
 During this discussion the wrath of Magdalen Gragmehad 
 risen to the uttermost ; she approached the abbot, and, plac- 
 ing herself by his side, said in a low and yet distinct tone — 
 '* Wake and arouse thee, father ; the sword of St. Peter is in 
 thy hand — strike and avenge St. Peter's patrimony ! Bind 
 them in the chains, which, being riveted by the church on 
 earth, are riveted in Heaven " 
 
 '* Peace, sister !" said the abbot ; 'Het not their madness 
 destroy our discretion — I pray thee, peace, and let me do 
 mine office. It is the first, peradventure it may be the last, 
 time I shall be called on to discharge it." 
 
 *'Nay, my holy brother !" said Howleglas, '^ I rede you, 
 take the holy sister's advice : never throve convent without 
 woman's counsel." 
 
 ''Peace, vain manl" said the abbot; "and you, my 
 brethren *' 
 
 **Nay, nay V* said the Abbot of Unreason, "no speaking 
 
122 WA VEBLEY NO VEL8 
 
 to the lay people until you have conferred with your brother 
 of the cowl. 1 swear by bell, book, and candle that not one 
 of my congregation shall listen to one word you have to say ; 
 80 you had as well address yourself to me who will." 
 
 To escape a conference so ludicrous, the abbot again at- 
 tempted an appeal to what respectful feelings might yet 
 remain amongst the inhabitants of the halidome, once so 
 devoted to their spiritual superiors. Alas ! the Abbot of 
 Unreason had only to flourish his mock crosier, and the 
 whooping, the hallooing, and the dancing were renewed with 
 a vehemence which would have defied the lungs of Stentor. 
 
 '* And now, my mates,'' said the Abbot of Unreason, 
 " once again dight your gabs and be hushed ; let us see if 
 the cock of Kennaquhair will fight or flee the pit.'' 
 
 There was again a dead silence of expectation, of which 
 Father Ambrose availed himself to address his antagonist, 
 seeing plainly that he could gain an audience on no other 
 terms. " Wretched man ! " said he, "hast thou no better 
 employment for thy carnal wit than to employ it in leading 
 these blind and helpless creatures into the pit of utter 
 darkness ? " 
 
 " Truly, my brother," replied Howleglas, '' I can see 
 little difference betwixt your employment and mine, save 
 that you make a sermon of a jest and I make a jest of a 
 sermon." 
 
 " Unhappy being," said the abbot, " who hast no better sub- 
 ject of pleasantry than that which should make thee tremble, 
 no sounder jest than thine own sins, and no better objects 
 for laughter than those who can absolve thee from the guilt 
 of them ! " 
 
 '"Verily, my reverend brother," said the mock abbot, 
 " what you say might be true, if, in laughing at hypocrites, 
 I meant to laugh at religion. 0, it is a precious thing to 
 wear a long dress, with a girdle and a cowl : we become a 
 holy pillar of Mother Church, and a boy must not play at ball 
 against the walls for fear of breaking a painted window ! " 
 
 "And will you, my friends," said the abbot, looking 
 round and speaking with a vehemence which secured him a 
 tranquil audience for some time — " will you suffer aprofane 
 buffoon, within the very church of God, to insult His min- 
 isters ? Many of you — all of you, perhaps — have lived 
 under my holy predecessors, who were called upon to rule 
 in this church where I am called upon to suffer. If you 
 have worldly goods, they are their gift ; and, when you 
 loomed not to accept better gifts — the mercy and forgive- 
 
THE ABBOT 128 
 
 Iiess of the chnrch — were they not ever at your command ? 
 ' — did we not pray while you were jovial, wake while you 
 slept ?" 
 
 *' Some of the good wives of the halidome were wont to 
 gay 80," said the Abbot of Unreason ; but his jest met in 
 this instance but slight applause, and Father Ambrose, 
 having gained a moment's attention, hastened to improve it. 
 
 "What \" said he ; ''and is this grateful — is it seemly — 
 is it honest — to assail with scorn a few old men, from whose 
 predecessors you hold all, and whose only wish is to die in 
 peace among these fragments of what was once the light of 
 the land, and whose daily prayer is, that they may be re- 
 moved ere that hour comes when the last spark shall be 
 extinguished, and the land left in the darkness which it has 
 chosen rather than light ? We have not turned against you 
 the edge of the spiritual sword, to revenge our temporal per- 
 secution ; the tempest of your wrath hath despoiled us of 
 land, and deprived us almost of our daily food, but we have 
 not repaid it with the thunders of excommunication ; we 
 only pray your leave to live and die within the church which 
 is our own, invoking God, Our Lady, and the holy saints tc 
 pardon your sins, and our own, undisturbed by scurril 
 buffoonery and blasphemy/' 
 
 This speech, so different in tone and termination from 
 that which the crowd had expected, produced an effect upon 
 their feelings unfavorable to the prosecution of their frolic. 
 The morrice-dancers stood still, the hobby-horse surceased 
 his capering, pipe and tabor were mute, and "silence, like 
 a heavy cloud,'' seemed to descend on the late noisy rabble. 
 Several of the beasts were obviously moved to compunction : 
 the bear could not restrain his sobs, and a huge fox was 
 observed to wipe his eyes with his tail. But in especial the 
 dragon, lately so formidably rampant, now relaxed the terror 
 of his claws, uncoiled his tremendous rings, and grumbled 
 out of his fiery throat in a repentant tone, " By the mass, I 
 thought no harm in exercising our old pastime, but an I had 
 thought the good father would have taken it so to heart I 
 would as soon have played your devil as your dragon." 
 
 In this momentary pause, the abbot stood amongst the 
 miscellaneous and grotesque forms by which he was sur- 
 rounded, triumphant as St. Anthony, in Callot's Tempta- 
 tions ; but Howleglas would not so resign his purpose. 
 
 " And how now, my masters ! " said he ; " is this fair play 
 or no ? Have you not chosen me Abbot of Unreason, and 
 is it lawful for any of you to listen to common-sense to-day ? 
 
124 WAVBRLEY NOVELS 
 
 Was I not formally elected by you in solemn chapter, held 
 in Luckie Martin's change-house, and will you now desert 
 me, and give up your old pastime and privilege ? Play out 
 the play ; and he that speaks the next word of sense or reason, 
 or bids us think or consider, or the like of that, which 
 befits not the day, I will have him solemnly ducked in the 
 mill-dam ! " 
 
 The rabble, mutable as usual, huzzaed, the pipe and tabor 
 struck up, the hobby-horse pranced, the beasts roared, and 
 even the repentant dragon began again to coil up his spires 
 and prepare himself for fresh gambols. But the abbot might 
 have still overcome, by his eloquence and his entreaties, the 
 malicious designs of the revelers, had not Dame Magdalen 
 Graeme given loose to the indignation which she had long 
 suppressed. 
 
 '' Scoff ers,'' she said, ''and men of Belial — blasphemous 
 heretics and truculent tyrants '' 
 
 '' Your patience, my sister, I entreat and I command you i '* 
 said the abbot ; *^ let me do my duty : disturb me not in mine 
 office.'' 
 
 But Dame Magdalen continued to thunder forth her threats 
 in the name of popes and councils, and in the name of every 
 saint from St. Michael downward. 
 
 '* My comrades ! " said the Abbot of Unreason, " this good 
 dame hath not spoke a single word of reason, and therein may 
 esteem herself free from the law. But what she spoke was 
 meant for reason, and, therefore, unless she confesses and 
 i avouches all which she has said to be nonsense, it shall pass 
 
 I for such, so far as to incur the penalty of our statutes. 
 
 Wherefore, holy dame, pilgrim, or abbess, or whatever thou 
 art, be mute with thy mummery or beware the mill-dam. 
 We will have neither spiritual nor temporal scolds in our 
 diocese of Unreason ! '' 
 
 As he spoke thus, he extended his hand towards the old 
 woman, while his followers shouted, " A doom — a doom ! " 
 and prepared to second his purpose, when lo ! it was sud- 
 denly frustrated. Eoland Graeme had witnessed with in- 
 dignation the insults offered to his old spiritual perceptor, 
 but yet had wit enough to reflect he could render him no 
 assistance, but might well, by ineffective interference, make 
 matters worse. But when he saw his aged relative in danger 
 of personal violence, he gave way to the natural impetuosity 
 of his temper, and, stepping forward, struck his poniard 
 into the body of the Abbot of Unreason, whom the blow 
 instantly prostrated on the pavement. 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 As when in tumults rise the ignoble crowd, 
 Mad are their motions, and their tongues are loud, 
 And stones and brands in rattling furies fly, 
 And all the rustic arms which fury can supply — 
 Then if some grave and pious man appear, 
 They hush their noise, and lend a listening ear. 
 
 Dryden's Virgil. 
 
 A DREADFUL shout of vengeance was raised by the revelers, 
 whose sport was thus so fearfully interrupted ; but, for an in- 
 stant, the want of weapons amongst the multitude, as well 
 as the inflamed features and brandished poniard of Roland 
 Graeme, kept them at bay, while the abbot, horror-struck at 
 the violence, implored, with uplifted hands, pardon for 
 bloodshed committed within the sanctuary. Magdalene 
 Graeme alone expressed triumph in the blow her descendant 
 had dealt to the scoffer, mixed, however, with a wild and 
 anxious expression of terror for her grandson^s safety. *' Let 
 him perish,^' she said, '^ in his blasphemy — let him die on 
 the holy pavement which he has insulted ! " 
 
 But the rage of the multitude, the grief of the abbot, the 
 exultation of the enthusiastic Magdalen, were all mistimed 
 and unnecessary. Howleglas, mortally wounded as he was 
 supposed to be, sprung alertly up from the floor, calling 
 aloud, *' A miracle — a miracle, my masters ! as brave a mira- 
 cle as ever was wrought in the kirk of Kennaquhair. And I 
 charge you, my masters, as your lawfully chosen abbot, that 
 you touch no one without my command. You, wolf and 
 bear, will guard this pragmatic youth, but without hurting 
 him. And you reverend brother, will, with your comrades, 
 withdraw to your cells ; for our conference has ended 
 like all conferences, leaving each of his own mind, as before ; 
 and if we fight, both you, and your brethren, and the kirk, 
 will have the worst on*t. Wherefore, pack up your pipes 
 and begone. '' 
 
 Tlie hubbub was beginning again to awaken, but still 
 Father Ambrose hesitated, as uncertain to what path his 
 duty called him, whether to face out the present storm or to 
 reserve himself for a better moment. His brother of Unrea' 
 
 125 
 
12« WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 son observed his difficulty, and said, in a tone more natural 
 and less affected than that with which he had hitherto sus- 
 tained his character. ** We came hither, my good sir, mora 
 in mirth than in mischief : our bark is worse than our bite : 
 and, especially, we mean you no personal harm ; wherefore, 
 draw off while the play is good ; for it is ill whistling for a 
 hawk when she is once on the soar, and worse to snatch the 
 quarry from the ban-dog. Let these fellows once begin their 
 brawl^ and it will be too much for madness itself, let alone 
 the Abbot of Unreason, to bring them back to the lure/' 
 
 The brethren crowded around Father Ambrosius, and joined 
 in urging him to give place to the torrent. The present 
 revel was, they said, an ancient custom which his predeces- 
 sors had permitted, and old Father Nicolas himself had 
 played the dragon in the days of the Abbot Ingelram. 
 
 ** And we now reap the fruit of the seed which they have 
 so unadvisedly sown,'' said Ambrosius : '' they taught men 
 to make a mock of what is holy, what wonder that the de- 
 scendants of scoffers become robbers and plunderers ? But 
 be it as you list, my brethren — move towards the dortour. 
 And you, dame, I command you, by the authority which I 
 have over you, and by your respect for that youth's safety, 
 that you go with us without farther speech. Yet, stay — 
 what are your intentions towards that youth whom you de- 
 tain prisoner ? Wot ye," he continued, addressing Howleg- 
 las in a stern tone of voice, '* that he bears the livery of the 
 house of Avenel ? They who fear not the anger of Heaven 
 may at least dread the wrath of man." 
 
 *' Cumber not yourself concerning him," answered How- 
 leglas, '' we know right well who and what he is." 
 
 " Let me pray," said the abbot, in a tone of entreaty, 
 "•that you do him no wrong for the rash deed which he 
 attempted in his imprudent zeal." 
 
 ** I say, trouble not yourself about it, father," answered 
 Howlegias ; *'but move off with your train, male and female, 
 or I will not undertake to save yonder she-saint from the 
 ducking-stool. And as for bearing of malice, my stomach 
 has no room for it ; it is," he added, clapping his hand on 
 his portly belly, " too well bumbasted out with straw and 
 buckram ; gramercy to them both — they kept out that 
 madcap's dagger as well as a Milan corslet could have 
 done." 
 
 In fact, the home-driven poniard of Eoland Graeme had 
 lighted upon the stuffing of the fictitious paunch, which the 
 Abbot of Unreason wore as a part of his charaQteristic dresg. 
 
THE ABBOT 127 
 
 and it was only the force of the blow which had prostrated 
 that reverend person on the ground for a moment. 
 
 Satisfied in some degree by this man's assurance, and com- 
 pelled to give way to superior force, the Abbot Ambrosius 
 retired from the church at the head of the monks, and left 
 the court free for the revelers to work their will. But wild 
 and wilful as these rioters were, they accompanied the retreat 
 of the religionists with none of those shouts of contempt and 
 derision with which they had at first hailed them. The 
 abbot's discourse had affected some of them with remorse, 
 others with shame, and all with a transient degree of respect. 
 They remained silent until the last monk had disappeared 
 through the side-door which communicated with their dwell- 
 ing-place, and even then it cost some exhortations on the part 
 of Howleglas, some caprioles of the hobby-horse, and some 
 wallops of the dragon, to rouse once more the rebuked spirit 
 of revelry. 
 
 ** And how now, my masters ?** said the Abbot of Unrea- 
 8on ; ''and wherefore look on me with such blank Jack-a-Lent 
 visages ? Will you lose your old pastime for an old wife's 
 tale of saints and purgatory ? Why, I thought you would 
 have made all split long since. Come, strike up, tabor and 
 harp — strike up, fiddle and rebeck ; dance and be merry to- 
 day, and let care come to-morrow ! Bear and wolf, look to 
 your prisoner ; prance hobby ; hiss dragon, and halloo, boys ; 
 we grow older every moment we stand idle, and life is too 
 short to be spent in playing mumchanee.'* 
 
 This pithy exhortation was attended with the effect desired. 
 They fumigated the church with burnt wood and feathers 
 instead of incense, put foul water into the holy-water basins, 
 and celebrated a parody on the church service, the mock 
 abbot officiating at the altar ; they sang ludicrous and inde- 
 cent parodies to the tunes of church hymns ; they violated 
 whatever vestments or vessels belonging to the abbey they 
 could lay their hands upon ; and, playing every freak which 
 the whim of the moment could suggest to their wild caprice, 
 at length they fell to more lasting deeds of demolition, pulled 
 down and destroyed some carved woodwork, dashed out the 
 painted windows which had escaped former violence, and, in 
 their rigorous search after sculpture dedicated to idolatory, 
 began to destroy what ornaments yet remained entire upon 
 the tombs and around the cornices of the pillars. 
 
 The spirit of demolition, like other tastes, increases by in- 
 dulgence : from these lighter attempts at mischief, the more 
 tnmultnous part of the meeting began to meditate destmo- 
 
12tt WAVEBLET NOVELS. 
 
 tion on a more extended scale. " Let us heave it down al- 
 together, the old crowds nest/' became a general cry among 
 among them ; 'Mt has served the Pope and his rooks too 
 long ; and up they struck a ballad which was then popular 
 among the lower classes : 
 
 •' The Paip, that pagan full of pride, 
 Hath blinded us owei lang, 
 For where the blind the blind doth lead. 
 No marvel baith gae wrang. 
 Like prince and king, 
 He led the ring 
 Of all iniquity. 
 Sing hay trix, trim-go-trix, 
 Under the greenwood tree. 
 
 The bishop rich, he could not preach 
 
 For sporting with the lasses ; 
 The silly friar behoved to fleech 
 For awmous as he passes ; 
 The curate his creed 
 He could not read — 
 
 Shame fa' the company I 
 Sing hay trix, trim-go-trix, 
 Under the greenwood tree.*'* 
 
 Thundering out this chorus of a notable hunting song, 
 which had been pressed into the service of some polemical 
 poet, the 'followers of the Abbot of Unreason were turning 
 every moment more tumultuous, and getting beyond the man- 
 agement of even that reverend prelate himself, when a 
 knight in full armor, followed by two or three men-at-arms, 
 entered the church and in a stern voice commanded them to 
 forbear their riotous mummery. 
 
 His visor was up, but, if it had been lowered, the cogniz- 
 ance of the holly-branch sufficiently distinguished Sir Hal- 
 bert Glendinning, who, on his homeward road, was passing 
 through the village of Kennaquhair ; and, moved perhaps 
 by anxiety for his brother's safety, had come directly to the 
 church on hearing of the uproar. 
 
 " What is the meaning of this," he said, '' my masters ? 
 Are ye Christian men, and the king's subjects, and yet waste 
 and destroy church and chancel like so many heathens ? '* 
 
 All stood silent, though doubtless there were several dis- 
 appointed and surprised at receiving chiding instead oi 
 thanks from so zealous a Protestant. 
 
 The dragon, indeed, did at length take upon him to be 
 
 '• " ' ♦ See •* The Paip, that Pagan." Note 11. 
 
TBE ABBOT 120 
 
 spokesman, and growled from the depth of his painted maw, 
 that they did hut sweep Popery out of the church with the 
 besom of destruction. 
 
 " What ! my friends/' replied Sir Halbert Glendinning, 
 "think you this mumming and masquing has not more of 
 Popery in it than have these stone walls ? Take the leprosy 
 out of your flesh before you speak of purifying stone walls : 
 abate your insolent license, which leads but to idle vanity 
 and sinful excess ; and know, that what you now practise is 
 one of the profane and unseemly sports introduced by the 
 priests of Kome themselves, to mislead and to brutify the 
 souls which fell into their net." 
 
 *^ Marry come up — are you there with your bears ?'' mut- 
 tered the dragon, with a draconic sullenness which was in 
 good keeping with his character ; " we had as good have been 
 Romans still, if we are to have no freedom in our pas- 
 times ! " 
 
 '* Dost thou reply to me so ? '* said Sir Halbert Glendin- 
 ning ; '* or is there any pastime in groveling on the ground 
 there like a gigantic kail-worm ? Get outof thy painted case, 
 or, by my knighthood, I will treat you like the beast and 
 reptile you have made yourself." 
 
 *' Beast and reptile ! " retorted the oifended dragon ; '' set- 
 ting aside your knighthood, I hold myself as well a born man 
 as thyself." 
 
 The knight made no answer in words, but bestowed two 
 such blows with the butt of his lance on the petulant dragon, 
 that, had not the hoops which constituted the ribs of the 
 machine been pretty strong, they would hardly have saved 
 those of the actor from being broken. In all haste the mas- 
 quer crept out of his disguise, unwilling to abide a third 
 buffet from the lance of the enraged knight. And when the 
 ex-dragon stood on the floor of the church, he presented to 
 Halbert Glendinning the well-known countenance of Dan of 
 the Howlethirst, an ancient comrade of his own, ere fate had 
 raised him so high above the rank to which he was born. 
 The clown looked sulkily upon the knight, as if to upbraid 
 him for his violence towards an old acquaintance, and Glen- 
 dinning's own good-nature reproached him for the violence 
 he had acted upon him. 
 
 '^ I did wrong to strike thee, Dan," he said ; '' but in truth 
 I knew thee not: thou wert ever a mad fellow. Come to 
 Avenel Castle, and we shall see how my hawks fly." 
 
 '' And if we show him not falcons that will mount a8 
 merrily as rockets," said the abbot of Unreason, '* I would 
 9 
 
180 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 your honor laid as hard on my bones as you did on his eyen 
 now." 
 
 '* How now, sir knave/' said the knight, ** and what has 
 brought you hither V* 
 
 The abbot, hastily ridding himself of the false nose which 
 mystified his physiognomy, and the supplementary belly 
 which made up his disguise, stood before his master in his 
 real character of Adam Woodcock, the falconer of Avenel. 
 
 " How, varlet ! " said the knight ; " hast thou dared to 
 come here, and disturb the very house my brother was 
 dwelling in ? " 
 
 '* And it was even for that reason, craving your honor's 
 
 Eardon, that I came hither ; for I heard the country was to 
 e up to choose an Abbot of Unreason, and ' Sure,' thought 
 I. ' I that can sing, dance, leap backwards over a broad- 
 8Word,'and am as good a fool as ever sought promotion, have 
 all chance of carrying the office ; and if I gain my election, 
 I may stand his honor's brother in some stead, supposing 
 things fall roughly out at the kirk of St. Mary's.'" 
 
 '' Thou art but a cogging knave," said Sir Halbert, " and 
 well I wot that love of ale and brandy, besides the humor of 
 riot and frolic, would draw thee a mile, when love of my 
 house would not bring thee a yard. But, go to — carry thy 
 roisterers elsewhere — to the alehouse if they list, and there 
 are crowns to pay your charges ; make out the day's madness 
 without doing more mischief, and be wise men to-morrow ; 
 and hereafter learn to serve a good cause better than by act- 
 ing like buffoons or ruffians." 
 
 Obedient to his master's mandate, the falconer was collect- 
 ing his discouraged followers, and whispering into their ears 
 — ^^ Away, away — tace \^ Latin for a candle. Never mind 
 the good knight's Puritanism — we will play the frolic out 
 over a stand of double ale in Dame Martin the brewster's 
 barn-yard. Draw off, harp and tabor, bagpipe and drum, 
 num till you are out of the churchyard, then let the welkin 
 ring again ; move on, wolf and bear — keep the hind legs till 
 you cross the kirk-stile, and then show yourselves beasts of 
 mettle ; what devil sent him hereto spoil our holiday ! But 
 anger him not, my hearts ; his lance is no goose-feather, as 
 Dan's ribs can tell." 
 
 *' By my soul," said Dan, *' had it been another than my 
 ancient comrade, I would have made my father's old fox fly 
 about his ears ! " 
 
 '' Hush ! — hush ! man," replied Adam Woodcock, "not a 
 word that way, as you value the safety of your bones ; what, 
 
THE ABBOT 131 
 
 man ! we must take a clink as it passes, so it is not bestowed 
 in downright ill-will/' 
 
 " But I will take no such thing/' said Dan of the Howlet- 
 hirst, sullenly resisting the efforts of Woodcock, who was 
 dragging him out of the church ; when, the quick military 
 eye of Sir Halbert Glendinning detecting Roland Graeme be- 
 twixt his two guards, the knight exclaimed, " So ho ! falconer 
 — Woodcock — knave, hast thou brought my lady's page in 
 mine own livery to assist at this hopeful revel of thine, with 
 your wolves and bears ? Since you were at such mummings, 
 you might, if you would, have at least saved the credit of my 
 household by dressing him up as a jackanapes. Bring him 
 hither, fellows ! '' 
 
 Adam Woodcock was too honest and downright to permit 
 blame to light upon the youth when it was undeserved. *' I 
 swear," he said, " by St. Martin of Bullions '' 
 
 "And what hast thou to do with St. Martin ?'' 
 
 *' Nay, little enough, sir, unless when he sends such rainy 
 days that we cannot fly a hawk ; but I say to your worshipful 
 knighthood that, as I am a true man " 
 
 '' As you are a false varlet, had been the better obtesta- 
 tion." 
 
 " Nay, if your knighthood allows me not to speak," said 
 Adam, ** I can hold my tongue ; but the boy came not hither 
 by my bidding, for all that." 
 
 *' But to gratify his own malapert pleasure, I warrant me," 
 Baid Sir Halbert Glendinning. " Come hither, young 
 gpringald, and tell me whether you have your mistress's 
 license to be so far absent from the castle, or to dishonor my 
 livery by mingling in such a May-game ? " 
 
 '* Sir Halbert Glendinning," answered Roland Grasme, 
 with steadiness, " I have obtained the permission, or rather 
 the commands, of your lady to dispose of my time hereafter 
 according to my own pleasure. I have been a most unwill- 
 ing spectator of this May-game, since it is your pleasure so 
 to call it ; and I only wear your livery until I can obtain 
 clothes which bear no such badge of servitude." 
 
 ** How am I to understand this, young man ? " said Sir 
 Halbert Glendinning ; '' speak plainly, for I am no reader 
 of riddles. That my lady favored thee, I know. What hast 
 thou done to disoblige her, and occasion thy dismissal ? " 
 
 ''Nothing to speak of," said Adam Woodcock, answering 
 for the boy ; '' a foolish quarrel with me, which was more 
 foolishly told over again to my honored lady, cost the poor boy 
 his place. For my part, I will say freely that I was wrong 
 
1^ WAY EBLEY NOVELS 
 
 from beginning to end, except about the washing of the eyas'a 
 meat. There I stand to it that I was right/' 
 
 With that, the good-natured falconer repeated to his 
 master the whole history of the squabble which had brought 
 Roland Grseme into disgrace with his mistress, but in a man- 
 ner so favorable for the page that Sir Halbert could not but 
 suspect his generous motive/' 
 
 * * Thon art a good-natured fellow/' he said, '^ Adam Wood- 
 cock/' 
 
 " As ever had falcon upon fist," said Adam ; *' and, for 
 that matter, so is Master Roland ; but, being half a gentle- 
 man by his office, his blood is soon up, and so is mine/' 
 
 "Well," said Sir Halbert, " be it as it will, my lady has 
 acted hastily, for this was no great matter of offense to dis- 
 card the lad whom she had trained up for years ; but he, I 
 doubt not, made it worse by his prating ; it jumps well with 
 a purpose, however, which I had in my mind. Draw off 
 these people. Woodcock ; and you, Roland Graeme, attend 
 me." 
 
 The page followed him in silence into the abbot's house, 
 where, stepping into the first apartment which he found open, 
 he commanded one of his attendants to let his brother. Master 
 Edward Glendinning, know that he desired to speak with 
 him. The men-at-arms went gladly off to join their comrade, 
 Adam Woodcock, and the jolly crew whom he had assembled 
 at Dame Martin's, the hostler's wife, and the page and knight 
 were left alone in the apartment. Sir Halbert Glendinning 
 paced the floor for a moment in silence, and then thus ad- 
 dressed his attendant : 
 
 " Thou mayest have remarked, stripling, that I have but 
 seldom distinguished thee by much notice — I see thy color 
 rises, but do not speak till thou hearest me out. I say, I 
 have never much distinguished thee, not because I did not 
 see that in thee which I might well have praised, but because 
 I saw something blamable, which such praises might have 
 made worse. Thy mistress, dealing accordiri g to her pleasu re 
 in her own household, as no one hath better reason or title, 
 had picked thee from the rest, and treated thee more like a 
 relation than a domestic ; and if thou didst show some vanity 
 and petulance under such distinction, it were injustice not 
 to say that thou hast profited both in thy exercises and in thy 
 breeding, and hast shown many sparkles of a gentle and 
 manly spirit. Moreover, it were ungenerous, having bred 
 thee up freakish and fiery, to dismiss thee to want or wanrler- 
 ing for showing that very peevishness and impatience of dis- 
 
TBE ABBOT 183 
 
 eipline which arose from thy too delicate nurture. There- 
 fore, and for the credit of my own household, I am deter- 
 mined to retain thee in my train, until i can honorably dis- 
 pose of thee elsewhere, with a fair prospect of thy going 
 through the world with credit to the house that brought thee 
 up/' 
 
 If there was something in Sir Halbert Glendinning's speech 
 "which flattered Roland^s pride, there was also much that, 
 according to his mode of thinking, was an alloy to the com- 
 pliment. And yet his conscience instantly told him that he 
 ought to accept, with grateful deference, the offer which 
 was made him by the husband of his kind protectress ; and 
 his prudence, however slender, could not but admit he should 
 enter the world under very different auspices as a retainer 
 of Sir Halbert Glendinning, so famed for wisdom, courage, 
 and influence, from those under which he might partake the 
 wanderings, and become an agent in the visionary schemes 
 — for such they appeared to him — of Magdalen, his relative. 
 Still, a strong reluctance to re-enter a service from which 
 he had been dismissed with contempt almost counterbalanced 
 these considerations. 
 
 Sir Halbert looked on the youth with surprise, and re- 
 sumed : '^ You seem to hesitate, young man. Are your own 
 prospects so inviting that you should pause ere you accept 
 those which I offer to you ? or must I remind you that, 
 although you have offended your benefactress, even to the 
 point of her dismissing you, yet I am convinced, the knowl- 
 edge that you have gone unguided on your own wild way, 
 into a world so disturbed as ours of Scotland, cannot, in the 
 upshot, but give her sorrow and pain ; from which it is, in 
 gratitude, your duty to preserve her, no less than it is in 
 common wisdom your duty to accept my offered protection, 
 for your own sake, where body and soul are alike endangered 
 should you refuse it.'' 
 
 Roland Graeme replied in a respectful tone, but at the 
 same time with some spirit, ** I am not ungrateful for such 
 countenance as has been afforded me by the Lord of Avenel, 
 and I am glad to learn, for the first time, that I have not 
 had the misfortune to be utterly beneath his observation, as 
 I had thought. And it is only needful to show me how I 
 can testify my duty and my gratitude towards my early and 
 constant benefactress with my life's hazard, and I will gladly 
 ; peril it." He stopped. 
 
 " These are but words, young man," answered Glendin- 
 ning ; '^ large protestations are often used to supply the place 
 
X34 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 of effectual service. I know nothing in which the peril of 
 your life can serve the Lady of Avenel ; I can only say, she 
 will be pleased to learn you have adopted some course which 
 may ensure the safety of your person and the weal of 
 your soul. What ails you, that you accept not that safety 
 when it is offered you ? " 
 
 ** My only relative who is alive/' answered Eoland — '* at 
 least the only relative whom I have ever seen, has rejoined 
 me since 1 was dismissed from the Castle of Avenel, and 1 
 must consult with her whether I can adopt the line to which 
 you now call me, or whether her increasing infirmities, or 
 the authority which she is entitled to exercise over me, may 
 not require me to abide with her.'' 
 
 ** Where is this relation ? " said Sir Halbert Glendinning. 
 
 ** In this house," answered the page. 
 
 " Go, then, and seek her out," said the Knight of Avenel ; 
 ** more than meet it is that thou shouldst have her approba- 
 tion, yet worse than foolish would she show herself in 
 denying it." 
 
 Roland left the apartment to seek for his grandmother, 
 and as he retreated the abbot entered. 
 
 The two brothers met as brothers who love each othei 
 fondly, yet meet rarely together. Such indeed was the case. 
 Their mutual affection attached them to each other ; but in 
 every pursuit, habit, or sentiment connected with the 
 discords of the times the friend and counselor of Murray 
 stood opposed to the Roman Catholic priest ; nor, indeed, 
 could they have held very much society together without 
 giving cause of offense and suspicion to their confederates 
 on each side. After a close embrace on the part of both, 
 and a welcome on that of the abbot. Sir Halbert Glendin- 
 ning expressed his satisfaction that he had come in time to 
 appease the riot raised by Howleglas and his tumultuous 
 followers. 
 
 " And yet," he said, " when I look on your garments, 
 brother Edward, I cannot help thinking there still remains 
 an Abbot of Unreason within the bounds of the monastery." 
 
 '' And wherefore carp at my garments, brother Halbert ?" 
 said the abbot, "it is the spiritual armor of my calling, 
 and, as such, beseems me as well as breastplate and baldrio 
 become your own bosom," 
 
 *' Ay, but there were small wisdom, methinks, in putting 
 on armor where we have no power to fight : it is but- a 
 dangerous temerity to defy the foe whom we cannot resist." 
 
 " For that, my brother, no one can answer," said the 
 
TEE ABBOT 135 
 
 abbot, " nntil tbe battle be fought ; and, were it even as 
 you say, methinks a brave man, though desperate of victory, 
 would rather desire to fight and fall than to resign sword 
 and shield on some mean and dishonorable composition with 
 his insulting antagonist. But let us not, dear Halbert, make 
 discord of a theme on which we cannot agree, but rather 
 stay and partake, though a heretic, of my admission feast. 
 You need not fear, my brother, that your zeal for restoring 
 the primitive discipline of the church will on this occasion, 
 be offended with the rich profusion of a conventual banquet. 
 The days of our old friend Abbot Boniface are over ; and 
 the superior of St. Mary's has neither forests nor fishin<^s, 
 woods nor pastures, nor cornfields ; neither flocks nor herds, 
 bucks nor wild-fowl, granaries of wheat nor storehouses of oil 
 and wine, of ale and of mead. The refectioner's office is 
 ended ; and such a meal as a hermit in romance can offer to 
 a wandering knight is all we have to set before you. But, 
 if you will share it with us, we shall eat it with a cheerful 
 heart, and thank you, my brother, for your timely protec- 
 tion against these rude scoffers.'' 
 
 " My dearest Edward,'* said the knight, " it grieves me 
 deeply I cannot abide with you ; but it would sound ill for 
 us both were one of the Reformed congregation to sit down 
 at your admission feast ; and, if I can ever have the satis- 
 faction of affording you effectual protection, it will be much 
 owing to my remaining unsuspected of countenancing or 
 approving your religious rites and ceremonies. It will 
 demand whatever consideration I can acquire among my 
 own friends to shelter the bold man who, contrary to law 
 and the edicts of parliament, has dared to take up the office 
 of abbot of St. Mary's." 
 
 *' Trouble not yourself with the task, my brother," replied 
 Father Ambrosius. " I would lay down my dearest blood 
 to know that you defended the church for the church's sake ; 
 but, while you remain unhappily her enemy, I would not 
 that you endangered your own safety, or diminished your 
 own comfort, for the sake of my individual protection. But 
 who comes hither to disturb the few minutes of fraternal 
 communication which our evil fate allows us ?" 
 
 " The door of the apartment opened as the abbot spoke, 
 and Dame Magdalen entered. 
 
 *' Who is this woman ?" said Sir Halbert Glendinning, 
 somewhat sternly, " and what does she want ? " 
 
 *' That you know me not," said the matron, ''signifies 
 Uttle ; I come by your own order, to give my free consent 
 
136 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 that the stripling, Roland Graeme, return to your service ; 
 and, having said so, I cumber you no longer with my 
 presence. Peace be with you ! " She turned to go away, 
 but was stopped by the inquiries of Sir Halbert Glendin- 
 ning. 
 
 *' Who are you ? — what are you ? — and why do you not 
 jiwait to make me answer ? " 
 
 '' I was," she replied, " while yet I belonged to the world, 
 a matron of no vulgar name ; now I am Magdalen, a poor 
 pilgrimer, for the sake of Holy Kirk." 
 
 '' Yea," said Sir Halbert, " art thou a Catholic ? I 
 thought my dame said that Roland Graeme came of Reformed 
 kin." 
 
 " His father," said the matron, '' was a heretic, or rather 
 one regarded neither orthodoxy nor heresy — neither the 
 temple of the church or of antichrist. I, too — for the sins 
 of the times make sinners — have seemed to conform to your 
 unhallowed rites ; but I had my dispensation and my absolu- 
 tion." ., . 
 
 '* You see, brother," said Sir Halbert, with a smile of 
 meaning towards the abbot, *' that we accuse you not alto- 
 gether without grounds of mental equivocation." 
 
 *' My brother, you do us injustice," replied the abbot; 
 " this woman, as her bearing may of itself warrant you, is 
 not in her perfect mind. Thanks, I must needs say, to the 
 persecution of your marauding barons and of your latitudina* 
 rian clergy." ^ „ „ 
 
 " I will not dispute the point," said Sir Halbert ; '' the 
 evils of the time are unhappily so numerous that both 
 churches may divide them and have enow to spare." So 
 saying, he leaned from the window of the apartment and 
 winded his bugle. 
 
 '' Why do you sound your horn, my brother ? ^^ said the 
 abbot ; '' we have spent but few minutes together." 
 
 ''Alas!" said the elder brother, ''and even these few 
 have been sullied by disagreement. I sound to horse, my 
 brother, the rather that, to avert the consequences of this 
 day's rashness on your part requires hasty efforts on mine. 
 Dame, you will oblige me by letting your young relative 
 know that we mount instantly. I intend not that he shall 
 return to Avenel with me ; it would lead to new quarrels 
 betwixt him and my household ; at least, to taunts which 
 his proud heart could ill brook, and my wish is to do him 
 kindness. He shall, therefore, go forward to Edinburgh 
 with one of my retinue, whom I shall send back to say whai 
 
THE ABBOT 137 
 
 has chanced here. You seem rejoiced at this ? " he added, 
 fixing his eyes keenly on Magdalen Graeme, who returned 
 his gaze with calm indifference. 
 
 " I would rather,'' she said, '' that Koland, a poor and 
 friendless orphan, were the jest of the world at large than 
 of the menials at Avenel/' 
 
 ^' Fear not, dame, he shall be scorned by neither," an- 
 swered the knight. 
 
 ^' It may be," she replied — '^ it may well be ; but I will 
 trust more to his own bearing than to your countenance.'^ 
 She left the room as she spoke. 
 
 The knight looked after her as she departed, but turned 
 instantly to his brother, and expressing, in the rnost affection- 
 ate terms, his wishes for his welfare and happiness, craved 
 his leave to depart. ** My knaves," he said, ''are too busy 
 at the ale-stand to leave their revelry for the empty breath 
 of a bugle-horn." 
 
 '^ You have freed them from higher restraint, Halbert," 
 answered the abbot, ''and therein taught them to rebel 
 against your own." 
 
 '' Fear not that, Edward," exclaimed Halbert, who never 
 gave his brother his monastic name of Ambrosius ; " none 
 obey the command of real duty so well as those who are free 
 from the observance of slavish bondage." 
 
 He was turning to depart, wlien the abbot said, " Let us 
 not yet part, my brother ; here comes some light refresh- 
 ment. Leave not the house which I must now call mine, 
 till force expel me from it, until you have at least broken 
 bread with me." 
 
 The poor lay brother, the same who acted as porter, now 
 entered the apartment, bearing some simple refreshment 
 and a flask of wine. "He had found it," he said with 
 officious humility, '' by rummaging through every nook of 
 the cellar." 
 
 The knight filled a small silver cup, and, quaffing it off, 
 asked his brother to pledge him, observing, the wine was 
 Bacharac, of the first vintage, and great age. 
 
 " Ay," said the poor lay brother, " it came out of the 
 nook which old Brother Nicolas — may his soul be happy I — 
 was wont to call Abbot Ingelram's corner ; and Abbot In- 
 gelram was bred at the convent of Wiirtzburg, which I 
 understand to be near where that choice wine grows." 
 
 " True, my reverend sir," said Sir Halbert ; " and there- 
 fore I entreat my brother, and you to pledge me in a cup of 
 this orthodox vintage." 
 
138 \VA VERLEY NO VEL8 
 
 The thin old porter looked with a wishful glance towards 
 the abbot. " Do veniam/' said his superior ; and the old 
 man seized, with a trembling hand, a beverage to which he 
 had been long unaccustomed, drained the cup with pro- 
 tracted delight, as if dwelling on the flavor and perfume, 
 and set it down with a melancholy smile and shake of the 
 head, as if bidding adieu in future to such delicious pota- 
 tions. The brothers smiled. But when Sir Halbert 
 motioned to the abbot to take up his cup and do him reason, 
 the abbot, in turn, shook his head, and replied, " This is no 
 day for the abbot of St. Mary's to eat the fat and drink the 
 sweet. In water from Our Lady's well," he added, filling a 
 cup with the limpid element, *' I wish you, my brother, all 
 happiness, and, above all, a true sight of your spiritual 
 errors/' 
 
 " And to you, my beloved Edward,'* replied Glendinning, 
 *' I wish the free exercise of your own free reason, and the 
 discharge of more important duties than are connected with 
 the idle name which you have so rashly assumed." 
 
 The brothers parted with deep regret ; and yet each, con- 
 fident in his opinion, felt somewhat relieved by the absence 
 of one whom he respected so much, and with whom he could 
 agree so little. 
 
 Soon afterwards the sound of the Knight of Avenel's 
 trumpets was heard, and the abbot went to the top of a 
 tower, from whose dismantled battlements he could soon see 
 the horsemen ascending the rising ground in the direction 
 of the drawbridge. As he gazed, Magdalen Graeme came to 
 his side. 
 
 *' Thou art come,'* he said, '* to catch the last glimpse of 
 thy grandson, my sister. Yonder he wends, under the 
 charge of the best knight in Scotland, his faith ever 
 excepted.'^ 
 
 ^'Thou canst bear witness, my father, that it was no wish 
 either of mine or of Roland's," replied the matron, ** which 
 induced the Knight of Avenel, as he is called, again to en- 
 tertain my grandson in his household. Heaven, which con- 
 founds the wise with their own wisdom, and the wicked with 
 their own policy, hath placed him where, for the service of 
 the church, I would most wish him to be." 
 
 " I know not what you mean, my sister," said the abbot. 
 
 *' Reverend father, replied Magdalen, '* hast thou never 
 heard that there are spirits powerful to rend the walls of a 
 castle asunder when once admitted, which yet cannot enter 
 the house unless they are invited, nay, dragged over tho 
 
THE ABBOT 13» 
 
 threshold ? * Twice hath Koland Graeme been thns drawn 
 into the household of Avenel by those who now hold the 
 title. Let them look to the issue/' 
 
 So saying, she left the turret ; and the abbot, after paus- 
 ing a moment on her words, which he imputed to the unset- 
 tled state of her mind, followed down the winding stair to 
 celebrate his admission to his high office by fast and prayer, 
 instead of reveling and thanksgiving. 
 
 *See Inability of Evil Sprits to enter a House uninvited. Note Vi 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 Youth I thou wear'st to manhood now. 
 
 Darker lip and darker brow, 
 
 Statelier step, more pensive mien, 
 
 In thy face and gait are seen : 
 
 Thou must now brook midnight watches. 
 
 Take thy food and sport by snatches 1 
 
 For the gambol and the jest, 
 
 Thou wert wont to love the best, 
 
 Graver follies must thou follow, 
 
 But as senseless, false, and hollow. 
 
 Life^ a Po&n. 
 
 Young Roland Graeme now trotted gaily forward in the train 
 of Sir Halbert Glendinning. He was relieved from his most 
 galling apprehension — the encounter of the scorn and taunt 
 which might possibly hail his immediate return to the Castle 
 of Avenel. '^ There will be a change ere they see me again/' 
 he thought to himself ; " I shall wear the coat of plate, in- 
 stead of the green jerkin, and the steel morion for the bon- 
 net and feather. They will be bold that may venture to 
 break a gibe on the man-at-arms for the follies of the page ; 
 and I trust that, ere we return, I shall have done something 
 more worthy of note than hallooing a hound after a deer, or 
 scrambling a crag for a kite's nest.'' He could not, indeed, 
 help marveling that his grandmother, with all her religious 
 prejudices leaning, it would seem, to the other side, had 
 consented so readily to his re-entering the service of the 
 house of Avenel ; and yet more at the mysterious joy with 
 which she took leave of him at the abbey. 
 
 " Heaven," said the dame, as she kissed her young rela- 
 tion, and bade him farewell, *' works its own work, even by 
 the hands of those of our enemies who think themselves the 
 strongest and the wisest. Thou, my child, be ready to act 
 upon the call of thy religion and country ; and remember, 
 each earthlj bond which thou canst form is, compared to 
 the ties which bind thee to them, like the loose flax to the 
 twisted cable. Thou hast not forgot the face or form of the 
 damsel Catherine Seyton ? " 
 
 Roland would have replied in the negative, but the word 
 
 140 
 
TBE ABBOT 141 
 
 seemed to stick in his throat, and Magdalen continued her 
 exhortations. 
 
 ** Thon must not forget her, my son ; and here I entrust 
 thee with a token, which I trust thou wilt speedily find an 
 opportunity of delivering with care and secrecy into her own 
 hand." 
 
 She put here into Eoland's hand a very small packet, of 
 which she again enjoined him to take the strictest care, and 
 to suffer it to be seen by no one save Catherine Seyton, who, 
 she again (very unneccessarily) reminded him, was the young 
 maiden he had met on the preceding day. She then be- 
 stowed on him her solemn benediction, and bade God speed 
 him. 
 
 There was something in her manner and her conduct 
 which implied mystery ; but Roland Graeme was not of an 
 age or temper to waste much time in endeavoring to decipher 
 her meaning. All that was obvious to his perception in the 
 present journey promised pleasure and novelty. He rejoiced 
 that he was traveling towards Edinburgh, in order to as- 
 sume the character of a man, and lay aside that of a boy. 
 He was delighted to think that he would have an opportunity 
 of rejoining Catherine Seyton, whose bright eyes and lively 
 manners had made so favorable an impression on his imagina- 
 tion ; and, as an inexperienced yet high-spirited* youth, 
 entering for the first time upon active life, his heart bounded 
 at the thought that he was about to see all those scenes of 
 courtly splendor and warlike adventures of which the fol- 
 lowers of Sir Halbert used to boast on their occasional visits 
 to Avenel, to the wonderment and envy of those who, like 
 Roland, knew courts and camps only by hearsay, and were 
 condemned to the solitary sports and almost monastic seclu- 
 sion of Avenel, surrounded by its lonely lake, and embosomed 
 among its pathless mountains. ^' They shall mention my 
 name,'' he said to himself, *' if the risk of my life can pur- 
 chase me opportunities of distinction, and Catherine Sey- 
 ton's saucy eye shall rest with more respect on the distin- 
 guished soldier than that with which she laughed to scorn the 
 raw and inexperienced page.'* . There was wanting but one 
 accessary to complete the sense of rapturous excitation, and 
 he possessed it by being once more mounted on the back of 
 a fiery and active horse, instead of plodding along on foot, 
 as had been the case during the preceding days. 
 
 Impelled by the liveliness of his own spirits, which so 
 many circumstances tendered naturally to exalt, Roland 
 Graeme's voice and his laughter were soon distinguished 
 
142 WAVEBLET NOVELS ' 
 
 amid the trampling of the horses of the retinue, and mo -e 
 than once attracted the attention of their leader, who re- 
 marked with satisfaction that the youth replied with gool- 
 humored raillery to such of the train as jested with him en 
 his dismissal and return to the service of the house )f 
 Avenel. 
 
 "I thought the holly-branch in your bonnet had been 
 blighted, Master Roland ? " said one of the men-at-arms. 
 
 ** Only pinched with half an hour's frost ; you see it 
 flourishes as green as ever/' 
 
 '* It is too grave a plant to flourish on so hot a soil as that 
 head-piece of thine, Master Roland Graeme," retorted the 
 other, who was an old equerry of Sir Halbert Glendinning. 
 
 ** If it will not flourish alone," said Roland, '* I will mix 
 it with the laurel and the myrtle ; and I will carry them ho 
 near the sky that it shall make amends for their stinted 
 growth/' 
 
 Thus speaking, he dashed his spurs into his horse's sides, 
 and, checking him at the same time, compelled him to exe- 
 cute a lofty caracole. Sir Halbert Glendinning looked at 
 the demeanor of his new attendant with that sort of melan- 
 choly pleasure with which those who have long followed the 
 pursuits of life, and are sensible of their vanity, regard the 
 gay, young, and buoyant spirits to whom existence as yet is 
 only hope and promise. 
 
 In the mean while, Adam "Woodcock, the falconer, stripped 
 of his masquing habit, and attired, according to his rank 
 and calling, in the green jerkin, with a hawking-bag on the 
 one side and a short hanger on the other, a glove on his left 
 hand which reached half-way up his arm, and a bonnet and 
 feather upon his head, came after the party as fast as his 
 active little Galloway nag could trot, and immediately 
 entered into parley with Roland Graeme. 
 
 " So, my youngster, you are once more under shadow of 
 the holly-branch ? '* 
 
 *^ And in case to repay you, my good friend," answered 
 Roland, ''your ten groats of silver." 
 
 *' Which, but an hour since," said the falconer, "you had 
 nearly paid me with ten inches of steel. On my faith, it is 
 written in the book of our destiny that I must brook your 
 dagger, after all." 
 
 *'Nay, speak not of that, my good friend," said the youth, 
 *' I would rather have broached my own bosom than yours ; 
 but who could have known you in the mumming dress yon 
 wore ?" 
 
THE ABBOT 143 
 
 " Yes," the falconer resumed, for both as a poet and actor 
 he had his own professional share of self-conceit, '^I think 
 I was as good an Hovvleglas as ever played part at a Shrove- 
 tide revelry, and not a much worse Abbot of Unreason. I 
 defy the Old Enemy to unmasque me when I choose to keep 
 my vizard on. What the devil brought the knight on us 
 before we had the game out ? You would have heard me 
 halloo my own new ballad with a voice should have reached 
 to Berwick. But I pray you. Master Roland, be less free of 
 cold steel on slight occasions ; since, but for the stuffing of 
 my reverend doublet, I had only left the kirk to take my 
 place in the kirkyard." 
 
 *' Nay, spare me that feud," said Roland Graeme, "we 
 shall have no time to fight it out ; for, by our lord's com- 
 mand, I am bound for Edinburgh." 
 
 "' I know it," said Adam Woodcock, " and even therefore 
 we shall have time to solder up this rent by the way, for 
 Sir Halbert has appointed me your companion and guide." 
 
 "Ay ? and with what purpose ? " said the page. 
 
 " That," said the falconer, " is a question I cannot an- 
 swer ; but I know that, be the food of the eyases washed or 
 unwashed, and, indeed, whatever becomes of perch and 
 mew, I am to go with you to Edinburgh, and see you safely 
 delivered to the Regent at Holyrood." 
 
 " How, to the Regent ?" said Roland, in surprise. 
 
 " Ay, by my faith, to the Regent," replied Woodcock ; 
 " I promise you that, if you are not to enter his service, at 
 least you are to wait upon him in the character of a retainer 
 of our Knight of Avenel." 
 
 " I know no right," said the youth, " which the Knight of 
 Avenel hath to transfer my service, supposing that I owe it 
 to himself." 
 
 " Hush — hush ! " said the falconer ; "' that is a question I 
 advise no one to stir in . until he has the mountain or the 
 lake, or the march of another kingdom, which is better 
 than either, betwixt him and his feudal superior." 
 
 " But Sir Halbert Glendinning," said the youth, " is not 
 my feudal superior ; nor has he aught of authority " 
 
 " I pray you, my son, to rein your tongue," answered 
 Adam Woodcock ; " my lord's displeasure, if you provoke 
 it, will be worse to appease than my lady's. The touch of 
 his least finger were heavier than her hardest blow. And, 
 by my faith, he is a man of steel, as true and as pure, but 
 as hard and as pitiless. You remember the Cock of Cap- 
 perlaw, whom he hanged over his gate for a mere mistake— 
 
144 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 a poor yoke of oxen taken in Scotland, when he thought he 
 was taking them in English land ? I loved the Cock of 
 Capperlaw ; the Kerrs had not an honester man in their 
 clan, and they have had men that might have been a pattern 
 to the Border — men that would not have lifted under twenty 
 cows at once, and would have held themselves dishonored if 
 they had taken a drift of sheep or the like, but always 
 managed their raids in full credit and honor. But see, his 
 worship halts, and we are close by the bridge. Ride up — ■ 
 ride up ; we must have his last instructions." 
 
 It was as Adam Woodcock said. In the hollow way de- 
 scending towards the bridge, which was still in the guardian- 
 ship of Peter Bridge- Ward, as he was called, though he was 
 now very old. Sir Halbert Glendinning halted his retinue, 
 and beckoned to Woodcock and Grseme to advance to the 
 head of the train. 
 
 ''Woodcock," said he, ''thou knowest to whom thou art 
 to conduct this yoTith. And thou, young man, obey dis- 
 creetly and with diligence the orders that shall be given thee. 
 Curb thy vain and peevish temper. Be just, true, and faith- 
 ful ; and there is in thee that which may raise thee many a 
 degree above thy present station. Neither shalt thou— al- 
 ways supposing thine efforts to be fair and honest — want the 
 protection and countenance of Avenel." 
 
 Leaving them in front of the bridge, the center tower of 
 which now began to cast a prolonged shade upon the river, 
 the Knight of Avenel turned to the left, without crossing 
 the river, and pursued his way towards the chain of hills 
 within whose recesses are situated the Lake and Castle of 
 Avenel. There remained behind, the falconer, Roland 
 Graeme, and a domestic of the knight, of inferior rank, who 
 was left with them to look after their horses while on the 
 road, to carry their baggage, and to attend to their conven- 
 ience. 
 
 So soon as the more numerous body of riders had turned 
 off to pursue their journey westward, those whose route lay 
 across the river, and was directed towards the north, sum- 
 moned the bridge-ward, and demanded a free passage. 
 
 " I will not lower the bridge," answered Peter, in a voice 
 querulous with age and ill-humor. " Come Papist, come 
 Protestant, ye are all the same. The Papists threatened us 
 with purgatory, and fleeched us with pardons ; the Protes- 
 tant mints at us with the sword, and cuittles us with the 
 liberty of conscience ; but never a one of either says, ' Peter, 
 there is your penny.' I am well tired of all this, and for no 
 
THE ABBOT 145 
 
 man shall the bridge fall that pays me not ready money; 
 and I would have you know I care as little for Geneva as for 
 Eome, as little for homilies as for pardons ; and the silver 
 pennies are the only passports I will hear of/^ 
 
 *'Here is a proper old chuff ! " said Woodcock to his com- 
 panion ; then raising his voice, he exclaimed, '^Hark thee, 
 dog — bridge-ward — villain, dost thou think we have refused 
 thy namesake Peter^s pence to Kome, to pay thine at the 
 bridge of Kennaquhair ? Let thy bridge down instantly to 
 the followers of the house of Avenel, or by the hand of my 
 father, and that handled many a bridle rein, for he was a 
 bluff Yorkshireman — I say, by my father^s hand, our knight 
 will blow thee out of thy solan-goose's nest there in the mid- 
 dle of the water, with the light falconet which we are bring- 
 ing southward from Edinburgh to-morrow/' 
 
 The bridge-ward heard, and muttered, '^ A plague on falcon 
 and falconet, on cannon and demi-cannon, and all the bark- 
 ing bull-dogs whom they halloo against stone and lime in 
 these our days ! It was a merry time when there was little 
 besides handy blows, and it may be a flight of arrows that 
 harmed an ashler wall as little as so many hailstones. But 
 we must jouk and let the jaw gang by/' Comforting him- 
 Belf in his state of disminished consequence with this pithy 
 old proverb, Peter Bridge-Ward lowered the drawbridge, 
 and permitted them to pass over. At the sight of his white 
 hair, albeit it discovered a visage equally peevish through 
 age and misfortune, Roland was inclined to give him an alms, 
 but Adam Woodcock prevented him. ^' E'en let him pay 
 the penalty of his former churlishness and greed," he said ; 
 '^the wolf, when he has lost his teeth, should be treated 
 no better than a cur." 
 
 Leaving the bridge-ward to lament the alteration of times 
 which sent domineering soldiers and feudal retainers to his 
 place of passage, instead of peaceful pilgrims, and reduced 
 him to become the oppressed, instead of playing the extor- 
 tioner, the travelers turned them northward ; and Adam 
 Woodcock, well acquainted with that part of the countr}^ 
 proposed to cut short a considerable portion of the road by 
 traversing the little vale of Glendearg, so famous for the 
 adventures which befell therein during the earlier part of 
 the Benedictine's Manuscript. With these, and with the 
 thousand commentaries, representations and misrepresenta- 
 tions to which they had given rise, Roland Graeme was, of 
 course, well acquainted ; for in the Castle of Avenel, as well 
 as in other great establishments, the inmates talked of noth- 
 lo 
 
146 WAVERLET NOVELS 
 
 ing so often, or with such pleasure, as of the private affairs 
 of their lord and lady. But while Roland was viewing with 
 interest these haunted scenes, in which things were said to 
 have passed beyond the ordinary laws of nature, Adam Wood- 
 cock was still regretting in his secret soul the unfinished 
 revel and the unsung ballad, and kept every now and then 
 breaking out with some such verses as these : 
 
 " The friars of Fail drank berry-brown ale. 
 The best that e'er was tasted ; 
 The monks of Melrose made gude kale 
 On Fridays, when they fasted. 
 St. Monance' sister, 
 The gray priest kist her — 
 
 Friend save the company I 
 Sing hay trix, trim-go-trix, 
 Under the greenwood tree I ** 
 
 "By my hand, friend Woodcock,'^ said the page, 'though 
 I know you for a hardy Gospeller, that fear neither saint nor 
 devil, yet, if I were you, I would not sing your profane 
 songs in this valley of Glendearg, considering what has hap- 
 pened here before our time/' 
 
 " A straw for your wandering spirits ! " said Adam Wood- 
 cock ; " I mind them no more than an earn cares for a string 
 of wild geese ; they have all fled since the pulpits were filled 
 with honest men, and the people's ears with sound doctrine. 
 Nay, I have a touch at them in my ballad, an I had but had 
 the good luck to have sung it to end ; and again he set off 
 in the same key : 
 
 ** From haunted spring and ^assy ring 
 Troop goblin, elf, and fairy ; 
 And the kelpie must flit from the black bog-pit 
 And the brownie must not tarry ; 
 To Limbo lake 
 Their way they take, 
 
 With scarce the pith to flee 
 Sing hay trix, trim-go-trix, 
 Under the greenwood tree I 
 
 I think/' he added, *' that, could Sir. Halbert's patience 
 have stretched till we came that length, he would have had 
 a hearty laugh, and that is what he seldom enjoys." 
 
 *' If it be all true that men tell of his early life," said 
 Roland, " he has less right to laugh at goblins than most 
 men." 
 
 " Ay, if it be all true," answered Adam Woodcock ; ^' but 
 If JjQ cftii ensure us of that ? Moreover, these were but talea 
 
THE ABBOT 14t 
 
 the monks used to gull us simple laymen withal ; they knew 
 that fairies and hobgoblins brought aves and paternosters 
 into repute ; but now we have given up worship of images 
 in wood and stone, methinks it were no time to be afraid of 
 bubbles in the water or shadows in the air/' 
 
 ** However/' said Roland Graeme, " as the Catholics say 
 they do not worship wood or stone, but only as emblems of 
 the holy saints, and not as things holy in themselves " 
 
 "Pshaw ! pshaw \" answered the falconer ; "a rush for 
 their prating. They told us another story when these bap- 
 tized idols of theirs brought pike-staves and sandaled shoon 
 from all the four winds, and whillied the old women out of 
 their corn and their candle-ends, and their butter, bacon, 
 wool, and cheese, and when not so much as a gray groat 
 escaped tithing/' 
 
 Roland Graeme had been long taught, by necessity, to con- 
 sider his form of religion as a profound secret, and to say 
 nothing whatever in its defense when assailed, lest he should 
 draw on himself the suspicion of belonging to the unpop- 
 ular and exploded church. He therefore suffered Adam 
 Woodcock to triumph without farther opposition, marvel- 
 ing in his own mind whether any of the goblins, formerly 
 such active agents, would avenge his rude raillery before 
 they left the valley of Glendearg. But no such consequences 
 followed. They passed the night quietly in a cottage in the 
 glen, and the next day resumed their route to Edinburgh. 
 
 I 
 
■>a 
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 Edina I Scotia's darling seat, 
 
 All hail thy palaces and towers, 
 Where once, beneath a monarch's feet, 
 Sate legislation's sovereign powers I 
 Burns. 
 
 '' This, then, is Edinburgh ? " said the youth, as tne 
 fellow-travelers arrived at one of the heights to the south- 
 ward, which commanded a view of the great northern cap- 
 ital — '' this is that Edinburgh of which we have heard so 
 much ?" 
 
 *' Even so,^' said the falconer ; *^ yonder stands Auld 
 Reekie ; you may see the smoke hover over her at twenty 
 miles' distance, as the goss-hawk hangs over a plump of 
 young wild ducks ; ay, yonder is the heart of Scotland, and 
 each th:''" 'hat she gives is felt from the edge of Solway to 
 Duncansbii. Head. See, yonder is the old Castle ; and see 
 to the right, on yon rising ground, that is the Castle of 
 Craigmillar, which I have known a merry place in my 
 time.'* 
 
 *' Was it not there,'' said the page in a low voice, '* that 
 the Queen held her court ?" 
 
 " Ay, ay," replied the falconer — '^ Queen she was then, 
 though you must not call her so now. Well, they may say 
 what they will — many a true heart will be sad for Mary 
 Stuart, e'en if all be true men say of her ; for look you. 
 Master Roland, she was the loveliest creature to look upon 
 that I ever saw with eye, and no lady in the land liked 
 better the fair flight of a falcon. I was at the great match 
 on Roslin Moor betwixt Bothwell — he was a black sight to 
 her that Bothwell — and the Baron of Roslin, who could 
 judge a hawk's flight as well as any man in Scotland : a 
 butt of Rhenish and a ring of gold was the wager, and it was 
 flown as fairly for as ever was red gold and bright wine. 
 And to see her there on her white palfrey, that flew as if it 
 scorned to touch more than the heather blossom ; and to 
 hear her voice, as clear and sweet as the mavis's whistle, 
 mix among our jolly whooping and whistling ; and to mark 
 ftll the nobles dashing round her — happiest he who got a 
 
 :14S 
 
THE ABBOT 149 
 
 word or a look — tearing through moss and hag, and ventur- 
 ing neck and limb to gain the praise of a bold rider, and 
 the blink of a bonny queen's bright eye ! She will see little 
 hawking where she lies now ; ay, ay, pomp and pleasure 
 pass away as speedily as the wap of a falcon's wing/' 
 
 " And where is this poor queen now confined ? " said 
 Roland Graeme, interested in the fate of a woman whosft 
 beauty and grace had made so strong an impression even oft 
 the blunt and careless character of Adam Woodcock. 
 
 '^ Where is she now imprisoned ? " said honest Adam j 
 '* why, in some castle in the north, they say. I know not 
 where, for my part, nor is it worth while to vex one's self 
 anent what cannot be mended. An she had guided her 
 power well whilst she had it she had not come to so evil a pass. 
 Men say she must resign her crown to this little baby of a 
 prince, for that they will trust her with it no longer. Our 
 master has been as busy as his neighbors in all this work. 
 If the Queen should come to her own again, Avenal Castle 
 is like to smoke for it, unless he makes his bargain all the 
 better." 
 
 *'In a castle in the north Queen Mary is confined ?" said 
 the page. 
 
 ''Why, ay — they say so, at least. In a castle beyond that 
 great river which comes down yonder, and looks like a river ; 
 but it is a branch of the sea, and as bitter as brine. '^ 
 
 " And amongst all her subjects," said the page, with some 
 emotion, '' is there none that will adventure anything for 
 her relief ? " 
 
 '' That is a kittle question," said the falconer; ''and if 
 you ask it often. Master Roland, I am fain to tell you that 
 you will be mewed up yourself in some of those castles, if 
 they do not prefer twisting your head off, to save farther trou- 
 ble with you. Adventure anything ! Lord, why, Murray has 
 the wind in his poop now, man, and flies so high and strong 
 that the devil a wing of them can match him. No, no ; 
 there she is, and there she must lie, till Heaven send her 
 deliverance, or till her son has the management of all. But 
 Murray will never let her loose again, he knows her too well. 
 And hark thee, we are now bound for Holyrood, where thou 
 will find plenty of news and of courtiers to tell i-t. But, take 
 my counsel, and keep a calm sough, as the Scots say : hear 
 every man's counsel, and keep your own. And if you hap 
 to learn any news you like, leap not up as if you were to put 
 on armor direct in the cause. Our old Mr. Wingate says — 
 and he knows court cattle well — that if you are told old Sang 
 
ISO WAVEBLEY NOVELS 
 
 Coul is come alive again, yon should turn it off with, ' And 
 is he, in truth ? I heard not of it,' and should seem no more 
 moved than if one told you, by way of novelty, that old King 
 Coul was dead and buried. Wherefore, look well to your 
 bearing. Master Roland, for I promise you, you come among 
 a generation that are keen as a hungry hawk. And never 
 be dagger out of sheath at every wry word you hear spoken ; 
 for you will find as hot blades as yourself, and then will be 
 letting of blood without advice either of leach or almanack.** 
 
 '''You shall see how staid I will be, and how cautious, 
 my good friend, *' said Graeme ; *' but, blessed Lady, what 
 goodly house is that which is lying all in ruins so close to 
 the city ? Have they been playing at the Abbot of Unreason 
 here, and ended the gambol by burning the church ?" 
 
 *' There again now,'* replied his companion, ''you go 
 down the wind like a wild haggard, that minds neither 
 lure nor beck ; that is a question you should have asked in 
 as low a tone as I shall answer it." 
 
 *' If I stay here long,** said Eoland Graeme, * ' it is like I shall 
 lose the natural use of my voice ; but what are the ruins 
 then?** 
 
 ** The Kirk of Field**, said the falconer, in a low and im- 
 pressive whisper, laying at the same time his finger on his 
 lip ; " ask no more about it ; somebody got foul play, and 
 somebody got the blame of it ; and the game began there 
 which perhaps may not be played out in our time. Poor 
 Henry Darnley ! to be an ass, he understood somewhat of a 
 hawk 1 but they sent him on the wing through the air him- 
 self one bright moonlight night.** 
 
 The memory of this catastrophe was so recent that the 
 page averted his eyes with horror from the scathed ruins in 
 which it had taken place ; and the accusations against the 
 Queen, to which it had given rise, came over his mind with 
 such strength as to balance the compassion he had begun to 
 entertain for her present forlorn situation. 
 
 It was, indeed, with that agitating state of mind which 
 arises partly from horror, but more from anxious interest 
 and curiosity, that young Graeme found himself actually 
 traversing the scene of those tremendous events the report of 
 which had disturbed the most distant solitudes in Scotland, 
 like the echoes of distant thunder rolling among the moun- 
 tains. 
 
 "Now,** he thought — "now or never shall I become a 
 man, and bear my part in those deeds which the simple in- 
 habitants of our hamlets repeat to each other as if they were 
 
THE ABBOT 151 
 
 wrought by beings of a superior order to their own I I will 
 know now wherefore the Knight of Avenel carries his crest 
 so much above those of the neighboring baronage, and how 
 it is that men, by valor and wisdom, work their way from 
 the hodden-gray coat to the cloak of scarlet and gold/ Men 
 say I have not much wisdom to recommend me ; and if that 
 be true, courage must do it ; for I will be a man amongst 
 living men, or a dead corpse amongst the dead/' 
 
 From these dreams of ambition he turned his thoughts to 
 those of pleasure, and began to form many conjectures when 
 and where he should see Catherine Seyton, and in what 
 manner their acquaintance was to be renewed. With such 
 conjectures he was amusing himself, when he found that 
 they had entered the city, and all other feelings were sus- 
 pended in the sensation of giddy astonishment with which 
 an inhabitant of the country is affected when, for the first 
 time, he finds himself in the streets of a large and populous 
 city, an unit in the midst of thousands. 
 
 The principal street of Edinburgh was then, as now, one 
 of the most spacious in Europe. The extreme height of the 
 houses, and the variety of Gothic gables, and battlements, 
 and balconies, by which the sky-line on each side was 
 crowned and terminated, together with the width of the 
 street itself, might have struck with surprise a more prac- 
 tised eye than that of young Graeme. The population, close 
 packed within the walls of the city, and at this time in- 
 creased by the number of the lords of the King's party who 
 had thronged to Edinburgh to wait upon the Regent Mur- 
 ray, absolutely swarmed like bees on the wide and stately 
 street. Instead of the shop-windows, which are now calcu- 
 lated for the display of goods, the traders had their open 
 booths projecting on the street, in which, as in the fashion 
 of the modern bazars, all was exposed which they had upon 
 sale. And though the commodities were not of the richest 
 kinds, yet Graeme thought he beheld the wealth of the whole 
 world in the various bales of Flanders cloths and the speci- 
 mens of tapestry ; and at other places the display of domes- 
 tic utensils and pieces of plate struck him with wonder. 
 The sight of cutlers' booths, furnished with swords and 
 poniards, which were manufactured in Scotland, and with 
 pieces of defensive armor, imported from Flanders, added 
 to his surprise ; and at every step he found so much to ad- 
 mire and to gaze upon that Adam Woodcock had no little 
 difficulty in prevailing on him to advance through such a 
 scene of enchantment. 
 
152 VTA VERLEY NO VELS 
 
 The sight of the crowds which filled the streets was 
 equally a subject of wonder. Here a gay lady, in her muf- 
 fler, or silken veil, traced her way delicately, a gentleman- 
 usher making way for her, a page bearing up her train, and 
 a waiting gentlewoman carrying her Bible, thus intimating 
 that her purpose was towards the church. There he miglit 
 see a group of citizens bending the same way, with their 
 short Flemish cloaks, wide trousers, and high-caped doub- 
 lets — a fashion to which, as well as to their bonnet and 
 feather, the Scots were long faithful. Then, again, came 
 the clergyman himself, in his black Geneva cloak and band, 
 lending a grave and attentive ear to the discourse of several 
 persons who accompanied him, and who were doubtless 
 holding serious converse on the religious subject he was 
 about to treat of. Nor did there lack passengers of a differ- 
 ent class and appearance. 
 
 At every turn, Eoland Graeme might see a gallant ruffle 
 along in the newer or French mode, his doublet slashed, and 
 his points of the same colors with the lining, his long sword 
 on one side, and his poniard on the other, behind him a 
 body of stout serving-men, proportioned to his estate and 
 quality, all of whom walked with the air of military retain- 
 ers, and were armed with sword and buckler, the latter be- 
 ing a small round shield, not unlike the Highland target, 
 having a steel spike in the center. Two of these parties, 
 each headed by a person of importance, chanced to meet in 
 the very center of the street, or, as it was called, ^' the 
 crown of the causeway " — a post of honor as tenaciously as- 
 serted in Scotland as that of giving or taking the wall used 
 to be in the more southern part of the island. The two 
 leaders being of equal rank, and, most probably, either ani- 
 mated by political dislike or by recollection of some feudal 
 enmity, marched close up to each other, without yielding 
 an inch to the right or the left ; and neither showing the 
 least purpose of giving way, they stopped for an instant, 
 and then drew their swords. Their followers imitated their 
 example ; about a score of weapons at once flashed in the 
 sun, and there was an immediate clatter of swords and buck- 
 lers, while the followers on either side cried their master^s 
 name: the one shouting, *^ Help, a Leslie! — a Leslie!^' 
 while the others answered with shouts of '^ Seyton ! — Sey- 
 ton P' with the additional punning slogan, "Set on — set 
 on ; bear the knaves to the ground ! " 
 
 If the falconer found difficulty in getting the page to go 
 forward before, it was now perfectly impossible. He reined 
 
" * A Seyton ! A Seyton ! Set on ! Set on ! * " 
 
THE ABBOT 15S 
 
 np his horse, clapped his hands, and, delighted with the 
 fray, cried and shouted as fast as any of those who were ac- 
 tually engaged in it. 
 
 The noise and cries thus arising on the Highgate, as it 
 was called, drew into the quarrel two or three other parties 
 of gentlemen and their servants, besides some single pas- 
 sengers, who, hearing a fray betwixt these two distinguished 
 names, took part in it, either for love or hatred. 
 
 The combat became now very sharp, and although the 
 sword-and-buckler men made more clatter and noise than 
 they did real damage, yet several good cuts were dealt among 
 them ; and those who wore rapiers — a more formidable 
 weapon than the ordinary Scottish sword — gave and received 
 dangerous wounds. Two men were already stretched on 
 the causeway, and the party of Seyton began to give ground, 
 being much inferior in number to the other, with which 
 several of the citizens had united themselves, when young 
 Tloland Gr??me, beholamg their deader, a noble gentleman, 
 fighting bravely, and hard pressed with numbers, could with- 
 hold no longer. ^'Adarn Woodcock,^' he said, ^' an you be- 
 a man, draw, and let us take part with the Seyton." And 
 without waiting a reply, or listening to the falconer's earn- 
 est entreaty that he would leave alone a strife in which he 
 had no concern, the fiery youth sprung from his horse, drew 
 his short sword, and shouting like the rest, '^ A Seyton ! — ^ 
 a Seyton ! Set on ! — set on ! '' thrust forward into the throng, 
 and struck down one of those who was pressing hardest 
 upon the gentleman whose cause he espoused. This sudden 
 reinforcement gave spirit to the weaker party, who began 
 to renew the combat" with much alacrity, when four of the 
 magistrates of the city, distinguished by their velvet cloaks 
 and gold chains, came up with a guard of halberdiers and 
 citizens, armed with long weapons, and well accustomed to 
 such service, thrust boldly forward, and compelled the 
 swordsmen to separate, who immediately retreated in different 
 directions, leaving such of the wounded on both sides as had 
 been disabled in the fray lying on the street. 
 
 The falconer, who had been tearing his beard for anger at 
 his comrade's rashness, now rode up to him with the horse, 
 which he had caught by the bridle, and accosted him with 
 "Master Roland — master goose — master madcap — will it 
 please you to get on horse, and budge ? or will you remain 
 here to be carried to prison, and made to answer for this 
 pretty day's work ? '' 
 
 The page, who had begun his retreat along with the Sey- 
 
154 WAVEBLET NOVELS 
 
 tons, just as if he had been one of their natural allies, was 
 by this unceremonious application made sensible that he was 
 acting a foolish part ; and, obeying Adam Woodcock, with 
 some sense of shame, he sprung actively on horseback, and 
 upsetting with the shoulder of the animal a city-officer who 
 was making towards him, he began to ride smartly down the 
 street, along with his companion, and was quickly out of the 
 reach of the hue and cry. In fact, rencounters of the kind 
 were so common in Edinburgh at that period that the dis- 
 turbance seldom excited much attention after the affray was 
 over, unless some person of consequence chanced to have 
 fallen, an incident which imposed on his friends the duty of 
 avenging his death on the first convenient opportunity. So 
 feeble, indeed, was the arm of the police, that it was not 
 unusual for such skirmishes to last for hours, where the 
 parties were numerous and well matched. But at this time 
 the Regent, a man of great strength of character, aware of 
 the mischief which usually arose from such acts of violence, 
 had prevailed with the magistrates to keep a constant guard 
 on foot, for preventing or separating such affrays as had 
 happened in the present case. 
 
 The falconer and his young companion were now riding 
 down the Canongate, and had slackened their pace to avoid 
 attracting attention, the rather that there seemed to be no 
 appearance of pursuit. Roland hung his head as one who 
 was conscious his conduct had been none of the wisest, while 
 his companion thus addressed him : 
 
 " Will you be pleased to tell me one thing. Master Roland 
 Grseme, and that is, whether there be a devil incarnate in 
 you or no ? " 
 
 ** Truly, Master Adam Woodcock,'* answered the page, " I 
 would fain hope there is not.'* 
 
 " Then," said Adam, *' I would fain know by what other 
 influence or instigation you are perpetually at one end or 
 the other of some bloody brawl ? What, I pray, had you to 
 do with these Seytons and Leslies, that you had never heard 
 the names of in your life before ? '* 
 
 ** You are out there, my friend,'' said Roland Graeme, ^' I 
 have my own reasons for being a friend to the Seytons." 
 
 " They must have been very secret reasons, then," an- 
 swered Adam Woodcock, '' for I think I could have wagered 
 you had never known one of the name ; and I am apt to be- 
 lieve still that it was your unhallowed passion for that clash- 
 ing of cold iron, which has as much charm for you as the 
 clatter of » brass pan h^th for a hive of bees, rather thajx any 
 
THE ABBOT 156 
 
 care either for Seyton or for ijeslie, that persuaded yon to 
 thrust your fooFs head into a quarrel that nowise concerned 
 you. But take this for a warning, my young master, that 
 if you are to draw sword with every man who draws swords 
 on the Highgate here, it will be scarce worth your while to 
 sheath bilbo again for the rest of your life, since, if I guess 
 rightly, it will scarce endure on such terms for many hours 
 — all which I leave to your serious consideration/' 
 
 " By my word, Adam, I honor your advice ; and I promise 
 you that I will practise by it as faithfully as if I were sworn 
 apprentice to you, to the trade and mystery of bearing my- 
 self with all wisdom and safety through the new paths of 
 life that I am about to be engaged in." 
 
 *' And therein you will do well," said the falconer, *'and 
 I do not quarrel with you. Master Roland, for having a grain 
 over much spirit, because I know one may bring to the hand 
 a wild hawk, which one never can a dunghill hen ; and so 
 betwixt two faults you have the best side on't. But, besides 
 your peculiar genius for quarreling and lugging out your 
 side companion, my dear Master Roland, you have also the 
 gift of peering under every woman's muffler and screen, as 
 if you expected to find an old acquaintance. Though, were 
 you to spy one, I should be as much surprised at it, well wot- 
 ting how few you have seen of these same wild-fowl, as I was 
 at your taking so deep an interest even now in the Seyton." 
 
 " Tush, man ! nonsense and folly," answered Roland 
 Graeme ; " I but sought to see what eyes these gentle hawks 
 have got under their hood." 
 
 '' Ay, but it's a dangerous subject of inquiry," said the 
 falconer ; *' you had better hold out your bare wrist for an 
 eagle to perch upon. Look you. Master Roland, these pretty 
 wild geese cannot be hawked at without risk : they have as 
 many divings, boltings, and volleyings as the most gamesome 
 quarry that falcon ever flew at. And besides, every woman 
 of them is manned with her husband, or her kind friend, or 
 her brother, or her cousin, or her sworn servant at the least. 
 But you heed me not. Master Roland, though I know the 
 game so well : your eye is all on that pretty damsel who 
 trips down the gate before us ; by my certes, I will war- 
 rant her a blythe dancer either in reel or revel — a pair of 
 silver morisco bells would become these pretty ankles as well 
 as the jesses would suit the fairest Norway hawk." 
 
 " Thou art a fool, Adam," said the page, *' and I care not 
 a button about the girl or her ankles. But, what the foul 
 fiend, one must look at something !" 
 
156 WA VEkLE Y NO VEL ^ 
 
 ''Very true, Master Roland Grseme/' said his guide, *'but 
 let me pray you to choose your objects better. Look you. 
 there is scarce a woman walks this Highgate with a silk 
 screen or a pearlin muffler, but, as I said before, she has 
 either gentleman-usher before her, or kinsman, or lover, or 
 husband, at her elbow, or it may be a brace of stout fellows 
 with sword and buckler, not so far behind but what they can 
 follow close. But you heed me no more than a goss-hawk 
 minds a yellow yoldring.*' 
 
 " yes, I do — I do mind you indeed,*' said Roland Graeme : 
 ^' but hold my nag a bit — I will be with you in the exchange 
 of a whistle.'''* So saying, and ere Adam Woodcock could 
 finish the sermon which was dying on his tongue, Roland 
 Graeme, to the falconer's utter astonishment, threw him the 
 bridle of his jennet, jumped off horseback, and pursued down 
 one of the closes or narrow lanes, which opening under a vault, 
 terminate upon the main street, the very maiden to whom 
 his friend had accused him of showing so much attention, 
 and who had turned down the pass in question. 
 
 '' St. Mary— St. Magdalen— St. Benedict— St. Barnabas ! " 
 cried the poor falconer, when he found himself thus suddenly 
 brought to a pause in the midst of the Canongate, and saw 
 his young charge start off like a madman in quest of a damsel 
 whom he had never, as Adam supposed, seen in his life be- 
 fore — *' St. Satan and St. Beelzebub — for this would make 
 one swear saint and devil — v/hat can have come over the lad 
 with a wanion ! And what shall I do the whilst ? He Avill 
 have his throat cut, the poor lad, as sure as I was born at 
 the foot of Roseberry Topping. Could I find some one to 
 hold the horses ! But they are as sharp here north-way as 
 in canny Yorkshire herself, and quit bridle, quit titt, as we 
 say. An I could but see one of our folks now, a holly-sprig 
 were worth a gold tassel ; or could I but see one of the 
 Regent's men ; but to leave the horses to a stranger, that I 
 cannot ; and to leave the place while the lad is in jeopardy, 
 that I wonot." 
 
 We must leave the falconer, however, in the midst of his 
 distress, and follow the hot-headed youth who was the cause 
 of his perplexity. 
 
 The latter part of Adam Woodcock's sage remonstrance 
 had been in a great measure lost upon Roland, for whose 
 benefit it was intended ; because, in one of the female forms 
 which tripped along the streets, muffled in a veil of striped 
 silk, like the women of Brussels at this day, his eye had 
 disctrned aomething which closely resembled the exquisite 
 
TEE ABBOT 157 
 
 stiape and spirited bearing of Catherine Seytori. During all 
 the grave advice which the falconer was dinning into his ear, 
 his eye continued intent upon so interesting an object of 
 observation ; and at lengthy as the damsel, just about to 
 dive under one of the arched passages which afforded an 
 outlet to the Canongate from the houses beneath (a passage 
 graced by a projecting shield of arms, supported by two 
 hugh foxes of stone), had lifted her veil for the purpose 
 perhaps of descrying who the horseman was who for some 
 time had eyed her so closely, young Eoland saw, under 
 the shade of the silken plaid, enough of the bright azure 
 eyes, fair locks, and blythe features to induce him, like an 
 inexperienced and rash madcap, whose wilful ways had never 
 been traversed by contradiction, nor much subjected to 
 consideration, to throw the bridle of his horse into Adam 
 Woodcock's hand, and leave him to play the waiting gentle- 
 man, while he dashed down the paved court after Catherine 
 Seyton — all as aforesaid. 
 
 Women's wits are proverbially quick, but apparently those 
 of Catherine suggested no better expedient than fairly to be- 
 take herself to speed of foot, in hopes of baffling the page's 
 vivacity, by getting safely lodged before he could discover 
 where. But a youth of eighteen, in pursuit of a mistress, 
 is not so easily outstripped. Catherine fled across a paved 
 court, decorated with large formal vases of stone, in which 
 yews, cypresses, and other evergreens vegetated in somber 
 sullenness, and gave a correspondent degree of solemnity to 
 the high and heavy building in front of which they w^ere 
 placed as ornaments, aspiring towards a square portion of 
 the blue hemisphere, corresponding exactly in extent to the 
 quadrangle in which they were stationed, and all around 
 which rose huge black walls, exhibiting windows in rows of 
 five stories, with heavy architraves over each, bearing ar- 
 morial and religious devices. 
 
 Through this court Catherine Seyton flashed like a hunted 
 doe, making the best use of those pretty legs which had 
 attracted the commendation even of the reflective and 
 cautious Adam W^oodcock. She hastened towards a large 
 door in the center of the lower front of the court, pulled the 
 bobbin till the latch flew up, and esconced herself in the 
 ancient mansion. But, if she fled like a doe, Eoland Graeme 
 followed with the speed and ardor of a youthful staghound, 
 loosed for the first time on his prey. He kept her in view in 
 spite of her efforts ; for it is remarkable what an advantage in 
 8ueh a race the gallant who desires to see possesses over the 
 
158 WAVEBLEY NOVELS 
 
 maiden who wishes not to be seen — an advantage which I 
 have known coanterbalance a great start in point of dis- 
 tance. In short, he saw the waving of her screen, or veil, 
 at one corner, heard the tap of her foot, light as that was, as it 
 crossed the court, and caught a glimpse of her figure just a» 
 she entered the door of the mansion. 
 
 Roland Graeme, inconsiderate and headlong as we have 
 described him, having no knowledge of real life but from the 
 romances which he had read, and not an idea of checking 
 himself in the midst of an eager impulse, possessed, besides, 
 of much courage and readiness, never hesitated for a mo- 
 ment to approach the door through which the object of his 
 search had disappeared. He too pulled the bobbin, and the 
 latch, though heavy and massive, answered to the summons, 
 and rose. The page entered with the same precipation which 
 had marked his whole proceeding, and found himself in a 
 large gloomy hall, or vestibule, dimly enlightened by lat- 
 ticed casements of painted glass, and rendered yet dimmer 
 through the exclusion of the sunbeams, owing to the height 
 of the walls of those buildings by which the courtyard was 
 inclosed. The walls of the hall were surrounded with suits of 
 ancient and rusted armor, interchanged with huge and mas- 
 sive stone scutcheons, bearing double tressures, fleured and 
 counter-fleured, wheat-sheaves, coronets, and so forth — things 
 which Roland Graeme gave not a moment's attention. 
 
 In fact, he only deigned to observe the figure of Catherine 
 Seyton, who, deeming herself safe in the hall, had stopped 
 to take breath after her course, and was reposing herself for 
 a moment on a large oaken settle which stood at the upper 
 end of the hall. The noise of Roland's entrance at once 
 disturbed her ; she startled up with a faint scream of sur- 
 prise, and escaped through one of the several folding-doors - 
 which opened into this apartment as a common center. 
 This door, which Roland Graeme instantly approached, 
 opened on a large and well-lighted gallery, at the upper end 
 of which he could hear several voices and the noise of 
 hasty steps approaching towards the hall, or vestibule. 
 A little recalled to sober thought by an appearance of serious 
 danger, he was deliberating whether he should stand fast or 
 retire, when Catherine Seyton re-entered from a side door, 
 running towards him with as much speed as a few minutes 
 since she had fled from him. 
 
 *' 0, what mischief brought you hither?'* she said. ''Fly 
 — fly, 0^ you are a dead man ; or stay — they come — flight if 
 impossible ; say you came to ask for Lord Seyton.*' 
 
THE ABBOT 16d 
 
 She sprung from him and disappeared through the door 
 by which she had made her second appearance ; and, at the 
 same instant, a pair of large folding-doors at the upper end 
 of the gallery flew open with vehemence, and six or seven 
 young gentlemen, richly dressed, pressed forward into the 
 apartment, having for the greater part, their swords 
 drawn. 
 
 ** Who is it," said one, " dare intrude on us in our own 
 mansion ? " 
 
 *' Cut him to pieces," said another ; *Met him pay for this 
 day's insolence and violence ; he is some follower of the 
 Eothes." 
 
 *' No, hy St. Mary," said another ; " he is a follower of the 
 arch-fiend and ennobled clown, Halbert Glendinning, who 
 takes the style of Avenel — once a church-vassal, now a pila- 
 ger of the church." 
 
 '^ It is so," said a fourth ; " I know him by the holly-sprig, 
 which is their cognizance. Secure the door ; he must an- 
 swer for this insolence." 
 
 Two of the gallants, hastily drawing their weapons, passed 
 on to the door by which Roland had entered the hall, and 
 stationed themselves there as if to prevent his escape. The 
 others advanced on Graeme, who had just sense enough to 
 perceive that any attempt at resistance would be alike fruit- 
 less and imprudent. At once, and by various voices, none of 
 which sounded amicably, the page was required to say who 
 he was, whence he came, his name, his errand, and who sent 
 him hither. The number of the questions demanded of him 
 at once afforded a momentary apology for his remaining silent, 
 and ere that brief truce had elapsed a personage entered the 
 hall, at whose appearance those who had gathered fiercely 
 around Roland fell back with respect. 
 
 This was a tall man, whose dark hair was already grizzled, 
 though his eye and haughty features retained all the anima- 
 tion of youth. The upper part of his person was undressed 
 to his Holland shirt whose ample folds were stained with 
 blood. But he wore a mantle of crimson, lined with rich fur, 
 cast around him, which supplied the deficiency of his dress. 
 On his head he had a crimson velvet bonnet, looped up on 
 one side with a small golden chain of many links, which, go- 
 ing thrice round the hat, was fastened by a medal, agreeable 
 to the fashion amongst the grandees of the time. 
 
 *' Whom have you here, sons and kinsmen," said he, 
 '' around whom you crowd thus roughly ? Know you not 
 that the shelter of this roof should secure every one fair treat- 
 
160 WA VERLET NOVELS 
 
 ment who shall come hither either in fair peace or in open 
 and manly hostility ? " 
 
 *' But here, my lord/' answered one of the youths, *' is a. 
 knave who comes on treacherous espial I" 
 
 '' I deny the charge/' said Roland Graeme, boldly ; ** I came 
 to inquire after my Lord Seyton/' 
 
 " A likely tale/' answered his accusers, *' in the mouth of 
 a follower of Glendinning." 
 
 '' Stay young man/' said the Lord Seyton, for it was that 
 nobleman himself, " let me look at this youth. By Heaven, 
 it is the very same who came so boldly to my side not very 
 many minutes since, when some of my own knaves bore them- 
 selves with more respect to their own worshipful safety than 
 to mine ! Stand back from him, for he well deserves honor 
 and a friendly welcome at your hands, instead of this rough 
 treatment." 
 
 They fell back on all sides, obedient to Lord Seyton's 
 commands, who, taking Roland Graeme by the hand, thanked 
 him for his prompt and gallant assistance, adding, that he 
 nothing doubted *^ the same interest which he had taken in 
 his cause in the affray brought him hither to inquire after 
 his hurt/' 
 
 Roland bowed low in acquiescence. 
 
 ''^ Or is there anything in which I can serve you, to show 
 my sense of your ready gallantry ? " 
 
 But the page, thinking it best to abide by the apology for 
 his visit which the Lord Seyton had so aptly himself sug- 
 gested replied, " That to be assured of his lordship's safety 
 had been the only cause of his intrusion. He judged," he 
 added, '^he had seen him receive some hurt in the 
 affray." 
 
 *' A trifle," said Lord Seyton ; '* I had but stripped my 
 doublet, that the chirurgeon might put some dressing on the 
 paltry scratch, when these rash boys interrupted us with their 
 clamor." 
 
 Roland Graeme, making a low obeisance, was now about to 
 depart, for, relieved from the danger of being treated as a 
 spy, he began next to fear that his companion, Adam Wood- 
 cock, whom he had so unceremoniously quitted, would either 
 bring him into some farther dilemma by venturing into the 
 hotel in quest of him, or ride off and leave him behind alto- 
 gether. But Lord Seyton did not permit him to escape so 
 easily. " Tarry," he said, '' young man, and let me know 
 thy rank and name. The Seyton has of late been more wont 
 to see friends and followers shrink from his side than to re- 
 
THE ABBOT 161, 
 
 ceive aid from strangers ; but a new world may come round, 
 in which he may have the chance of rewarding his well- 
 wishers/' 
 
 " My name is Roland Graeme, my lord," answered the 
 youth, ''a page, who for the present is in the service of Sir 
 Halbert Glendinning." 
 
 '' I said so trom the first,'' said one of the young men ; 
 '' my' life I will wager that this is a shaft out of the heretic's 
 quiver — a stratagem from first to last, to injeer into your con- 
 fidence some espial of his own. They know how to teach both 
 boys and women to play the intelligencers." 
 
 *' That is false, if it be spoken of me," said Roland ; ''no 
 man in Scotland should teach me such a foul part ! " 
 
 "I believe thee, boy," said Lord Seyton, ''for thy strokes 
 were too fair to be dealt upon an understanding with those 
 that were to receive them. Credit me, however, I little ex- 
 pected to have help at need from one of your master's house- 
 hold ; and I would know what moved thee in my quarrel, to 
 thine own endangering ?" 
 
 "So please you, my lord," said Ronald, "I think my 
 master himself would not have stood by and seen an honor- 
 able man borne to earth by odds, if his single arm could help 
 him. Such at least is the lesson we were taught in chivalry 
 at the Castle of Avenel." 
 
 " The good seed hath fallen into good ground, young 
 man," said Seyton ; " but, alas ! if thou practise such hon- 
 orable war in these dishonorable days, when right is every- 
 where borne down by mastery, thy life, my poor boy, will 
 be but a short one." 
 
 " Let it be short, so it be honorable," said Roland Graeme ; 
 "and permit me now, my lord, to commend me to your 
 grace, and to take my leave. A comrade waits with my 
 horse in the street." 
 
 " Take this, however, young man," said Lord Seyton,* 
 undoing from his bonnet the golden chain and medal, " and 
 wear it for my sake." 
 
 With no little pride Ronald Graeme accepted the gift, 
 which he hastily fastened around his bonnet, as he had seen 
 gallants wear such an ornament, and, renewing his obeisance 
 to the baron, left the hall, traversed the court, and appeared 
 in the street, just as Adam Woodcock, vexed and anxious at 
 his delay, had determined to leave the horses to their fate 
 and go in quest of his youthful comrade. "Whose barn 
 hast thou broken next ? " he exclaimed, greatly relieved by 
 
 *SeeNotel3. 
 11 
 
162 WA VERLEY NO VEL8 
 
 his appearance, although his countenance indicated that he 
 had passed through an agitating scene. 
 
 '' Ask me no questions/' said Konald, leaping gaily on his 
 horse ; *' but see how short time it takes to win a chain of 
 gold/' pointing to that which he now wore. 
 
 **Now, God forbid that thou hast either stolen it or reft 
 it by violence/' said the falconer ; " for, otherwise, I wot 
 not how the devil thou couldst compass it. I have been 
 often here, ay, for months at an end, and no one gave me 
 either chain or medal." 
 
 *' Thou seest I have got one on shorter acquaintance with 
 the city,'' answered the page ; '' but set thine honest heart 
 at rest : that which is fairly won and freely given is neither 
 reft nor stolen." 
 
 '* Marry, hang thee, with thy fanfarona * about thy neck ! " 
 said the falconer ; " I think water will not drown nor hemp 
 strangle thee. Thou hast been discarded as my lady's page, 
 to come in again as my lord's squire ; and, for following a 
 noble young damsel into some great household, thou getst a 
 chain and medal, where another would have had the baton 
 across his shoulders, if he missed having the dirk in his 
 body. But here we come in front of the old abbey. Bear 
 thy good luck with you when you cross these paved stones, 
 and, by Our Lady, you may brag Scotland/' 
 
 As he spoke, they checked their horses, where the huge 
 old vaulted entrance to the Abbey or Palace of Holyrood 
 crossed the termination of the street down which they had 
 proceeded. The courtyard of the palace opened within this 
 gloomy porch, showing the front of an irregular pile of mon- 
 astic buildings, one wing of which is still extant, forming a 
 part of the modern palace, erected in the days of Charles I. 
 
 At the gate of the porch the falconer and page resigned 
 their horses to the serving-man in attendance ; the falconer 
 commanding him, with an air of authority, to carry them 
 safely to the stables. ''We follow," he said, ''the Knight 
 of Avenel. We must bear ourselves for what we are here," 
 said he in a whisper toEonald, "for everyone here is looked 
 on as they demean themselves ; and he that is too modest 
 must to the wall, as the proverb says ; therefore, cock thy 
 bonnet, man, and let us brook the causeway bravely." 
 
 Assuming, therefore, an air of consequence corresponding 
 to what he supposed to be his master's importance and qual- 
 ity, Adam Woodcock led the way into the courtyard oi the 
 Palace of Holyrood. 
 
 * See Note 14. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 The sky is clouded, Gaspard, 
 And the vex'd ocean sleeps a troubled sleep, 
 Beneath a lurid gleam of parting sunshine. 
 Such slumber hangs o'er discontented lands, 
 While factions doubt, as yet, if they have strength 
 To front the open battle. 
 
 Albion, a Poem, 
 
 Thb youthful page paused on the entrance of the court- 
 yard, and implored his guide to give him a moment's breath- 
 mg-space. **Let me but look around me, man," said he; 
 "you consider not I have never seen such a scene as this be- 
 fore. And this is Holy rood — the resort of the gallant and 
 gay, and the fair, and the wise, and the powerful ! " 
 
 ** Ay, marry, is it ! *' said Woodcock ; ** but I wish I could 
 hood thee as they do the hawks, for thou startest as wildly 
 as if you sought another fray or another Sanfarona. I would 
 I had thee safely housed, for thou lookest wild as a goss- 
 hawk/' 
 
 It was indeed no common sight to Roland, the vestibule 
 of a palace, traversed by its various groups — some radiant 
 with gaiety, some pensive, and apparently weighed down by 
 affairs concerning the state or concerning themselves. Here 
 the hoary statesman, with his cautious yet commanding look, 
 his furred cloak and sable pantoufles ; there the soldier, in 
 buff and steel, his long sword jarring against the pavement, 
 and his whiskered upper lip and frowning brow looking a 
 habitual defiance of danger which perhaps was not always 
 made good ; there ag^ain passed my lord's serving-man, high 
 of heart and bloody of hand, humble to his master and his mas- 
 ter's equals, insolent to all others. To these might be added, 
 the poor suitor, with his anxious look and depressed mien ; 
 the officer, full of his brief authority, elbowing his betters, and 
 possibly his benefactors, out of the road ; the proud priest, 
 who sought a better benefice ; the proud baron, who sought a 
 grant of church lands ; the robber chief, who came to solicit 
 a pardon for the injuries he had inflicted on his neighbors ; 
 the plundered franklin, who came to seek vengeance for that 
 which he had himself received. Besides, there was the mus- 
 
 163 ^^^^ 
 
164 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 tering and disposition of guards and soldiers ; the despatch- 
 ing of messengers, and the receiving them ; the trampling 
 and neighing of horses without the gate; the flashing of 
 arms, and rustling of plumes, and jingling of spurs, within 
 it. In short, it was that gay and splendid confusion in which 
 the eye of youth sees all that is brave and brilliant, and that 
 of experience much that is doubtful, deceitful, false, and 
 hollow — hopes that will never be gratified, promises which 
 will never be fulfilled, pride in the disguise of humility, and 
 insolence in that of frank and generous bounty. 
 
 As, tired of the eager and enraptured attention which the 
 page gave to a scene so new to him, Adam Woodcock endeav- 
 ored to get him to move forward, before his exuberance of 
 astonishment should attract the observation of the sharp- 
 witted denizens of the court, the falconer himself became an 
 object of attention to a gay menial in a dark-green bonnet 
 and feather, with a cloak of a corresponding color, laid down, 
 as the phrase then went, by six broad bars of silver lace, and 
 welted with violet and silver. The words of recognition 
 burst from both at once. " What ! Adam Woodcock at 
 court ! " and '' What ! Michael Wing-the-Wind — and how 
 runs the hackit greyhound bitch now ? " 
 
 *' The waur for the wear, like ourselves, Adam, — eight 
 years this grass — no four legs will carry a dog forever ; but 
 we keep her for the breed, and so she ^scapes Border doom. 
 But why stand you gazing there ? I promise you, my lord 
 has wished for you and asked for you.'' 
 
 *' My Lord of Murray asked for me, and he Regent of the 
 kingdom too ! " said Adam. '' I hunger and thirst to pay 
 my duty to my good lord ; but I fancy his good lordship re- 
 members the day's sport on Carnwath Moor ; and my Drum- 
 melzier falcon, that beat the hawks from the Isle of Man, 
 and won his lordship a hundred crowns from the Southern 
 baron whom they called Stanley." 
 
 *' Nay, not to flatter thee, Adam," said his court friend, 
 ** he remembers nought of thee, or of thy falcon either. He 
 hath flown many a higher flight since that, and struck his 
 quarry too. But come — come hither away ; I trust we are 
 to be good comrades on the old score." 
 
 " What !" said Adam, " you would have me crush a pot 
 with you ? but I must first dispose of my eyas, where he will 
 neither have girl to chase nor lad to draw sword upon." 
 
 " Is the youngster such a one ? " said Michael. 
 
 *' Ay, by my hood, he flies at all game," replied Wood- 
 cock. 
 
THE ABBOT 165 
 
 " Then had he better come with us/* said Michael Wing- 
 the-Wind ; ^'iov we cannot have a proper carouse Just now, 
 only I would wet my lips, and so must you. I want to hear 
 the news from St. Mary's before you see my lord, and I will 
 let you know how the wind sits up yonder. '* 
 
 While he thus spoke, he led the way to a side door which 
 opened into the court ; and threading several dark passages 
 with the air of one who knew the most secret recesses of the 
 palace, conducted them to a small matted chamber, where 
 he placed bread and cheese and a foaming flagon of ale be- 
 fore the falconer and his young companion, who immedia- 
 tely did justice to the latter in a hearty draught, which 
 nearly emptied the measure. Having drawn his breath, and 
 dashed the froth from his whiskers, he observed, that his 
 anxiety for the boy had made him deadly dry. 
 
 " Mend your draught,*'' said his hospitable friend, again 
 supplying the flagon from a pitcher which stood beside. 
 ** I know the way to the buttery-bar. And now, mind what 
 I say. This morning the Earl of Morton came to my lord 
 in a mighty chafe.** 
 
 *' What ! they keep the old friendship, then ? ** said Wood- 
 cock. 
 
 "Ay, ay, man, what else?** said Michael; ''one hand 
 must scratch the other. But in a mighty chafe was my 
 Lord of Morton, who, to say truth, looketh on such occasions 
 altogether uncanny, and, as it were, fiendish ; and he says 
 to my lord — for I was in the chamber taking orders about a 
 cast of hawks that are to be fetched from Darnaway ; they 
 match your long-winged falcons, friend Adam.** 
 
 " I will believe that when I see them fly as high a pitch,** 
 replied Woodcock, this professional observation forming a 
 sort of parenthesis. 
 
 ''However,** said Michael, pursuing his tale, "my Lord 
 of Morton, in a mighty chafe, asked my Lord Regent whether 
 he was well dealt with — 'For my brother,* said he, ' should 
 have had a gift to be commendator of Kennaquhair, and to 
 have all the temporalities erected into a lordship of regality 
 for his benefit; and here,' said he, 'the false monks have 
 had the insolence to choose a new abbot to put his claim in 
 my brother*s way ; and, moreover, the rascality of the neigh- 
 borhood have burned and plundered all that was left in the 
 abbey, so that my brother will not have a house to dwell in 
 when he hath ousted the lazy hounds of priests.* And my 
 lord, seeing him chafed, said mildly to him, 'These are 
 ihrewd tidings, Douglas, but I trust they be not true ; for 
 
166 WA VJ^RLET NOVELS 
 
 Halbert Glendinning went southward yesterday with a band 
 of spears, and assuredly, had either of these chances happened, 
 that the monks had presumed to choose an abbot, or that 
 the abbey had been burnt, as you say, he had taken order 
 on the spot for the punishment of such insolence, and had 
 despatched us a messenger/ And the Earl of Morton re- 
 plied Now I pray you, Adam, to notice that I say this 
 
 out of love to you and your lord, and also for old comrade- 
 ship ; and also because Sir Halbert hath done me good, and 
 may again ; and also because I love not the Earl of Morton, 
 as indeed more fear than like him — so then it were a foul 
 deed in you to betray me. — ' But,' said the Earl to the Re- 
 gent, * take heed, my lord, you trust not this Glendinning 
 too far : he comes of churFs blood, which was never true to 
 the nobles/ By St. Andrew, these were his very words. 
 
 * And besides,' he said, * he hath a brother a monk in St. 
 Mary's, and walks all by his guidance, and is making friends 
 on the Border with Buccleuch and with Fernieherst,* and 
 will join hand with them, were there likelihood of a new 
 world.' And my lord answered like a free noble lord as he 
 is : ' Tush ! my Lord of Morton, I will be warrant for 
 Glend inning's faith ; and for his brother, he is a dreamer, 
 that thinks of naught but book and breviary ; and if such 
 hap have chanced as you tell of, I look to receive from Glen- 
 dinning the cowl of a hanged monk, and the head of a riot- 
 ous churl, by way of sharp and sudden justice.' And my 
 Lord of Morton left the place, and, as it seemed to me, some- 
 what malcontent. But since that time my lord has asked 
 me more than once whether there has arrived no messenger 
 from the Knight of Avenel. And all this I have told you, 
 that you may frame your discourse to the best purpose, for 
 it seems to me that niy lord will not be well pleased if aught 
 has happened like what my Lord of Morton said, and if your 
 lord hath not ta'en strict orders with it." 
 
 There was something in this communication which fairly 
 blanked the bold visage of Adam Woodcock, in spite of the 
 reinforcement which his natural hardihood had received 
 from the berry-brown ale of Holyrood. 
 
 '' What was it he said about a churl's head, that grim 
 Lord of Morton ? " said the disconcerted falconer to his 
 friend. 
 
 *' Nay, it was my Lord Regent, who said that he expected, 
 if the abbey was injured, your knight would send him the 
 head of the ringleader among the rioters." 
 
 * Both these Border chief tains were great friends of Queen Mary. 
 
THE ABBOT 167 
 
 '* Nay, but is this done like a good Protestant/* said Adam 
 Woodcock, " or a true Lord of the Congregation ? We used 
 to be their white-boys and darlings when we pulled down 
 the convents in Fife and Perthshire." 
 
 " Ay, but that/' said Michael, '* was when old mother 
 Rome held her own, and her [the] great folks were deter- 
 mined she should have no shelter for her head in Scotland. 
 But, now that the priests are fled in all quarters, and their 
 houses and lands are given to our grandees, they cannot see 
 that we are working the work of reformation in destroying 
 the palaces of zealous Protestants." 
 
 '* But I tell you St. Mary's is not destroyed ! '' said Wood- 
 cock, in increasing agitation ; " some trash of painted win- 
 dows there were broken — things that no nobleman could 
 have brooked in his house ; some stone saints were brought 
 on their marrow-bones, like old Widdrington at Chevy 
 Chase ; but as for fire-raising, there was not so much as a 
 lighted lunt amongst us, save the match which the dragon 
 had to light the burning tow withal, which he was to spit 
 against St. George ; nay, I had caution of that." 
 
 " How ! Adam Woodcock," said his comrade, '' I trust 
 thou hadst no hand in such a fair work ? Look you, Adam, 
 I were loth to terrify you, and you just come from a journey ; 
 but I promise you. Earl Morton hath brought you down a 
 ' maiden ' from Halifax, you never saw the like of her ; and 
 she'll clasp you round the neck, and your head will remain 
 in her arms." 
 
 '' Pshaw !" answered Adam, " I am too old to have my 
 head turned by any maiden of them all. I know my Lord 
 of Morton will go as far for a buxom lass as any one ; but 
 what the devil took him to Halifax all the way ? and if 
 he has got a gamester there, what hath she to do with my 
 head ? " 
 
 ** Much — much ! " answered Michael. " Herod's daughter, 
 who did such execution with her foot and ankle, danced not 
 men's heads off more cleanly than this maiden of Morton.* 
 'Tis an ax, man — an ax which falls of itself like a sash win- 
 dow, and never gives the headsman the trouble to wield it." 
 
 " By my faith, a shrewd device," said Woodcock ; '* Heaven 
 keep us free on't I " 
 
 The page, seeing no end to the conversation between these 
 two old comrades, and anxious, from what he had heard, 
 concerning the fate of the abbot, now interrupted their con- 
 ference. 
 
 • See Note 15. .i// 
 
168 WA VERLEY NOVELS 
 
 " Methinks/' he said, '' Adam Woodcock, thou hadst 
 better deliver thy master's letter to the Eegent ; questionless 
 he hath therein stated what has chanced at Kennaquhair, in 
 the way most advantageous for all concerned/' 
 
 *' The boy is right," said Michael Wing- the- Wind, ** my 
 lord will be very impatient/' 
 
 *' The child hath wit enough to keep himself warm,*^ said 
 Adam Woodcock, producing from his hawking-bag his lord's 
 letter, addressed to the Earl of Murray, *^ and for that mat- 
 ter so have I. So, Master Roland, you will e'en please to 
 present this yourself to the Lord Regent ; his presence will 
 be better graced by a young page than by an old falconer." 
 
 " Well said, canny Yorkshire ! " replied his friend ; ** and 
 but now you were so earnest to see our good lord ! Why, 
 wouldst thou put the lad into the noose that thou mayst 
 slip tether thyself ? or dost thou think the maiden will clasp 
 his fair young neck more willingly than thy old sunburnt 
 weasand ?*' 
 
 " Go to," answered the falconer ; " thy wit towers high 
 an it could strike the quarry. I tell thee, the youth has 
 naught to fear : he had nothing to do with the gambol. A 
 rare gambol it was, Michael, as madcaps ever played ; and I 
 had made as rare a ballad, if we had had the luck to get it 
 sung to an end. But mum for that — tace, as I said before, 
 is Latin for a candle. Carry the youth to the presence, and 
 I will remain here, with bridle in hand, ready to strike the 
 spurs up to the rowel-heads, in case the hawk flies my way. 
 I will soon put Soltra Edge, I trow, betwixt the Regent and 
 me, if he means me less than fair play." 
 
 *' Come on then, my lad," said Michael, " since thou must 
 needs take the spring before canny Yorkshire." So saying, 
 he led the way through winding passages, closely followed 
 by Roland Grasme, until they arrived at a large winding 
 stone stair, the steps of which were so long and broad, and 
 at the same time so low, as to render the ascent uncom- 
 monly easy. When they had ascended abou t the height of 
 one story, the guide stepped aside, and pushed open the 
 door of a dark and gloomy ante-chamber ; so dark, indeed, 
 that his youthful companion stumbled, and nearly fell down 
 upon a low step, which was awkwardly placed on the very 
 threshold. 
 
 *' Take heed,'* said Michael Wing-the-Wind, in a very low 
 tone of voice, and first glancing cautiously round to see if 
 any one listened — '* take heed, my young friend, for those 
 who fall on these boards seldom rise again. Seest thou 
 
THE ABBOT 169 
 
 that/' he added, in a still lower voice, pointing to some dark 
 crimson stains on the floor, on which a ray of light, shot 
 through a small aperture, and traversing the general gloom 
 of the apartment, fell with mottled radiance — " seest thou 
 that, youth ? Walk warily, for men have fallen here before 
 you/' 
 
 '' What mean you ? " said the page, his flesh creeping, 
 though he scarce knew why. '* Is it blood ? " 
 
 *' Ay, ay,'' said the domestic, in the same whispering tone, 
 and dragging the youth on by the arm. '^ Blood it is — but 
 this is no time to question, or even to look at it. *^ Blood 
 it is, foully and fearfully shed, as foully and fearfully 
 avenged. The blood," he added, in a still more cautious 
 tone, '* of Seignor David." 
 
 Koland Graeme's heart throbbed when he found himself so 
 unexpectedly in the scene of Eizzio's slaughter — a catas- 
 trophe which had chilled with horror all even in that rude 
 age, which had been the theme of wonder and pity through 
 every cottage and castle in Scotland, and had not escaped 
 that of Avenel. But his guide hurried him forward, per- 
 mitting no further question, and with the manner of one 
 who has already tampered too much with a dangerous sub- 
 ject. A tap which he made at a low door at one end of the 
 vestibule was answered by a huissier, or usher, who, opening 
 it cautiously, received Michael's intimation that a page 
 waited the Regent's leisure, who brought letters from the 
 Knight of Avenel. 
 
 " The council is breaking up," said the usher ; " but give 
 me the packet ; his Grace the Regent will presently see the 
 messenger. " 
 
 *' The packet," replied the page, '' must be delivered 
 into the Regent's own hands ; such were the orders of my 
 master." 
 
 The usher looked at him from head to foot, as if surprised 
 at his boldness, and then replied, with some asperity, '^ Say 
 you so, my young master ? Thou crowest loudly to be but 
 a chicken, and from a country barnyard too." 
 
 " Were it a time or place," said Roland, " thou shouldst 
 see I can do more than crow ; but do your duty, and let the 
 Regent know I wait his pleasure." 
 
 " Thou art but a pert knave to tell me of my duty," said 
 the courtier in office ; '' but I will find a time to show yon 
 you are out of yours ; meanwhile, wait there till you are 
 wanted." So saying, he shut the door in Roland's face. 
 
 Michael Wing-the-Wind, who had shrunk from his youth- 
 
170 WAVERLET NOVELS 
 
 fill companion during this altercation, according to the 
 established maxim of courtiers of all ranks, and in all ages, 
 now transgressed their prudential line of conduct so far as 
 to come up to him once more. '' Thou art a hopeful young 
 springald,^' said he, '' and I see right well old Yorkshire had 
 reason in his caution. Thou hast been five minutes in the 
 court, and hast employed thy time so well as to make a 
 powerful and a mortal enemy of the usher of the council- 
 chamber. Why, man, you might almost as well have offended 
 the deputy butler I" ^ t -n 
 
 " I care not what he is," said Roland Graeme ; '' I will 
 teach whomever I speak with to speak civilly to me in return.^ 
 I did not come from Avenel to be browbeaten in Holyrood.'' 
 " Bravo, my lad \" said Michael ; " it is a fine spirit if you 
 can hold it ; but see, the door opens.'* 
 
 The usher appeared, and, in a more civil tone of voice and 
 manner, said that his Grace the Regent would receive the 
 Knight of Avenel's message ; and accordingly marshaled 
 Roland Graeme the way into the apartment, from which the 
 council had been just dismissed, after finishing their con- 
 sultations. There was in the room a long oaken table, sur- 
 rounded by stools of the same wood, with a large elbow-chair, 
 covered with crimson velvet at the head. Writing materials 
 and papers were lying there in apparent disorder ; and one 
 or two of the privy-councilors who had lingered behind, as- 
 suming their cloaks, bonnets, and swords, and bidding fare- 
 well to the Regent, were departing slowly by a large door, 
 on the opposite side to that through which the page entered. 
 Apparently the Earl of Murray had made some jest, for the 
 smiling countenances of the statesmen expressed that sort 
 of cordial reception which is paid by courtiers to the 
 condescending pleasantries of a prince. 
 
 The Regent himself was laughing heartily as he said, 
 " Farewell, my lords, and hold me remembered to the Cock 
 oftheNorth.'* 
 
 He then turned slowly round towards Roland Graeme, and 
 the marks of gaiety, real or assumed, disappeared from his 
 countenance as completely as the passing bubbles leave the 
 dark mirror of a still profound lake into which a traveler has 
 cast a stone ; in the course of a minute his noble features had 
 assumed their natural expression of deep and even melancholy 
 gravity. 
 
 This distinguished statesman, for as such his worst enemies 
 acknowledged him, possessed all the external dignitv, as well 
 as almost all the noble qualities, which could grace the power 
 
THE ABBOT 171 
 
 that he enjoyed ; and had he succeeded to the throne as his 
 ligitimate inheritance, it is probable he would have been re- 
 corded as one of Scotland's wisest and greatest kings. But 
 that he held his authority by the deposition and imprison- 
 ment of his sister and benefactress was a crime which those 
 only can excuse who think ambition an apology for ingrati- 
 tude. He was dressed plainly in black velvet, after the 
 Flemish fashion, and wore in his high crowned hat a jeweled 
 clasp, which looped up on one side, and formed the only 
 ornament of his apparel. He had his poniard by his side, 
 and his sword lay on the council table. 
 
 Such was the personage before whom Eoland Graeme now 
 presented himself, with a feeling of breathless awe, very 
 different from the usual boldness and vicacity of his temper. 
 In fact, he was, from education and nature, forward, but not 
 impudent, and was much more easily controlled by the moral 
 superiority, arising from the elevated talents and renown of 
 those with whom he conversed, than by pretensions founded 
 only on rank or external show. He might have braved with 
 indifference the presence of an earl, merely distinguished by 
 his belt and coronet ; but he felt overawed in that of the 
 eminent soldier and statesman, the wielder of a nation's 
 power, and the leader of her armies. The greatest and wisest 
 are flattered by the deference of youth, so graceful and be- 
 coming in itself ; and Murray took, with much courtesy, the 
 letter from the hands of the abashed and blushing page, and 
 answered with complaisance to the imperfect and half-mut- 
 tered greeting which he endeavored to deliver to him on the 
 part of Sir Halbert of Avenel. He even paused a moment 
 ere he broke the silk with which the letter was secured, to 
 ask the page his name, so much he was struck with his very 
 handsome features and form. 
 
 " Roland Graham,'* he said, repeating the words after the 
 hesitating page, ' ' what, of the Grahams of Lennox ? " 
 
 " No, my lords," replied Roland ; " my parents dwelt in 
 the Debateable Land." 
 
 Murray made no farther inquiry ; but proceeded to read 
 his despatches, during the perusal of which his brow began 
 to assume a stern expression of displeasure, as that of one 
 who found something which at once surprised and disturbed 
 him. He sate down on the nearest seat, frowned till his eye- 
 brows almost met together, read the letter twice over, and 
 was then silent for several minutes. At length, raising his 
 head, his eye encountered that of the usher, who in vain en- 
 deavored to exchange the look of eager and curious observa- 
 
17^ WAVEBLEY NOVELS 
 
 tion with which he had been perusing the Eegent^s features 
 for that open and unnoticing expression of countenance 
 which, in looking at all, seems as if it saw and marked noth- 
 ing — a cast of look which may be practised with advantage 
 by all those, of whatever degree, who are admitted to witness 
 the familiar and unguarded hours of their superiors. Great 
 men are as jealous of their thoughts as the wife of King 
 Candaules was of her charms, and will as readily punish those 
 who have, however involuntarily, beheld them in mental 
 dishabille and exposure. 
 
 '^ Leave the apartment, Hyndman,'' said the Regent, 
 sternly, ''and carry your observation elsewhere. You are 
 too knowing, sir, for your post, which, by special order, is 
 destined for men of blunter capacity. So ! now you look 
 more like a fool than you did (for Hyndman, as may easily 
 be supposed, was not a little disconcerted by this rebuke) ; 
 keep that confused stare, and it may keep your office. Be- 
 gone, sir ! " 
 
 The usher departed in dismay, not forgetting to register, 
 amongst his other causes of dislike to Roland Graeme, that he 
 had been the witness of this disgraceful chiding. When he 
 had left the apartment, the Regent again addressed the page. 
 
 " Your name you say is Armstrong ?" 
 
 " l^o/' replied Roland, " my name is Graeme, so please you 
 — Roland Graeme, whose forbears were designated of Heather- 
 gill, in the Debateable Land.'' 
 
 '' Ay, I knew it was a name from the Debateable Land. 
 Hast thou any aquaintances here in Edinburgh ?" 
 
 '* My lord,'' replied Roland, willing rather to evade this 
 question than to answer it directly, for the prudence of being 
 silent with respect to Lord Seyton's adventure immediately 
 struck him, '* I have been in Edinburgh scarce an hour, and 
 that for the first time in my life." 
 
 " What ! and thou Sir Halbert Glendinning's page ? " said 
 the Regent. 
 
 '' I was brought up as my lady's page," said the youth, 
 " and left Avenel Castle for the first time in my life — at least 
 since my childhood — only three days since." 
 
 '' My lady's page ! " repeated the Earl of Murray, as if 
 speaking to himself ; ''it was strange to send his lady's page 
 on a matter of such deep concernment. Morton will say it 
 is of a piece with the nomination of his brother to be abbot ; 
 and yet in some sort an inexperienced youth will best serve 
 the turn. What hast thou been taught, young man, in thy 
 doughty apprenticeship 1 " 
 
THE ABBOT 173 
 
 "To hunt, my lord, and to hawk,'* said Roland Gaeme. 
 
 " To hunt coneys, and to hawk at ouzels ? said the Regent, 
 gmiling ; "for such are the sports of ladies and their 
 followers/^ 
 
 Graeme's cheek reddened deeply as he replied, not without 
 some emphasis, " To hunt red-deer of the first head, and to 
 strike down herons of the highest soar, my lord, which, in 
 Lothian speech, may be termed, for aught I know, coneys 
 and ouzels ; also, I can wield a brand and couch a lance, ac- 
 cording to our Border meaning ; in inland speech these may 
 be termed water-flags and bulrushes." 
 
 '^ Thy speech rings like metal,'' said the Regent, " and 1 
 pardon the sharpness of it for the truth. Thou knowest, 
 then, what belongs to the duty of a man-at-arms ? " 
 
 " So far as exercise can teach it, without real service in the 
 field," answered Roland Graeme ; "but our knight permitted 
 none of his household to make raids, and I never had the 
 good fortune to see a stricken field." 
 
 "The good fortune ! " repeated the Regent, smiling some- 
 what sorrowfully; "take my word, young man, jwar is th e 
 only game from which bot h parties rise losers. "_. 
 
 " JN ot always, my lord," answered the page, with his charac- 
 teristic audacity, " if fame speaks truth." 
 
 "How, sir ?" said the Regent, coloring in his turn, and 
 perhaps suspecting an indiscreet allusion to the height which 
 he himself had attained by the hap of civil war. 
 
 " Because, my lord," said Roland Graeme, without change 
 of tone, "he who fights well must have fame in life or honor 
 in death ; and so war is a game from which no one can rise 
 a loser." 
 
 The Regent smiled and shook his head, when at that 
 moment the door opened, and the Earl of Morton presented 
 himself. 
 
 "I come somewhat hastily," he said, ^^and I enter unan- 
 nounced, because my news are of weight. It is as I said : 
 Edward Glendinning is named abbot, and " 
 
 " Hush, my lord ! " said the Regent, *' I know it, but '* 
 
 "And perhaps you knew it before I did, my Lord of 
 Murray," answered Morton, his dark red brow growing darker 
 and redder as he spoke. 
 
 " Morton," said Murray, " suspect me not — touch not mine 
 honor ; I have to suffer enough from the calumnies of foes, 
 let me not have to contend with the unjust suspicions of my 
 friends. We are not alone," said he, recollecting himsefi 
 ** or I could tell thee more*'' 
 
174 WAVERLET NOVELS 
 
 He led Morton into one of the deep embrasures which the 
 windows formed in the massive wall, and which afforded a 
 retiring-place for their conversing apart. In this recess, 
 Roland observed them speak together with much earnestness, 
 Murray appearing to be grave and earnest, and Morton hav- 
 ing a jealous and offended air, which seemed gradually to 
 give way to the assurances of the Regent. 
 
 As their conversation grew more earnest, they became 
 gradually louder in speech, having perhaps forgotten the 
 presence of the page, the more readily as his position in the 
 apartment placed him out of sight, so that he found himself 
 unwillingly privy to more of their discourse than he cared 
 to hear. For, page though he was, a mean curiosity after 
 the secrets of others had never been numbered amongst 
 Roland's failings ; and, moreover, with all his natural rash- 
 ness, he could not but doubt the safety of becoming privy to 
 the secret discourse of these powerful and dreaded men. 
 Still, he could neither stop his ears nor with propriety leave 
 the apartment ; and while he thought of some means of 
 signifying his presence, he had already heard so much that 
 to have produced himself suddenly would have been as 
 awkward, and perhaps as dangerous, as in quiet to abide the 
 end of their conference. What he overheard, however, was 
 but an imperfect part of their communication ; and although 
 a more expert politician, acquainted with the circumstances 
 of the times, would have had little difficulty in tracing the 
 meaning, yet Ronald Graeme could only form very general 
 and vague conjectures as to the import of their discourse. 
 
 '' All is prepared,^' said Murray, *' and Lindesay is setting 
 forward. She must hesitate no longer ; thou seest I act by 
 thy counsel, and harden myself against softer considerations.^ 
 
 " True, my lord,'* replied Morton, '^ in what is necessary 
 to gain power you do not hesitate, but go boldly to the 
 mark. But are you as careful to defend and preserve what you 
 have won ? Why this establishment of domestics around her ? 
 Has not your sister men and maidens enough to tend her, but 
 you must consent to this superfluous and dangerous retinue ? " 
 
 "For shame, Morton ! a princess, and my sister, could I 
 do less than allow her due tendance ? " 
 
 " Ay,'' replied Morton, '' even thus fly all your shafts — 
 smartly enough loosened from the bow, and not unskilfully 
 aimed, but a breath of foolish affection ever crosses in the 
 mid volley, and sways the arrow from the mark." 
 
 "Say not so, Morton !" replied Murray; "I have both 
 dared and done—" 
 
THE ABBOT 175 
 
 ''Yes, enough to gain, but not enough to keep ; reckon 
 not that she will think and act thus. You have wounded 
 her deeply both in pride and in power ; it signifies nought 
 that you would tent now the wound with unavailing salves : 
 as matters stand with you, you must forfeit the title of an 
 affectionate brother, to hold that of a bold and determined 
 statesman/' 
 
 " Morton ! " said Murray, with some impatience, " I brook 
 not these taunts ; what I have done I have done ; what 1 
 must farther do, I must and will ; but I am not made of 
 iron like thee, and I cannot but remember. Enough of this 
 — my purpose holds." 
 
 ** And I warrant me,'' said Morton, '^ the choice of these 
 domestic consolations will rest with " 
 
 Here he whispered names which escaped Eoland Graeme's 
 ear. Murray replied in a similar tone, but so much raised 
 towards the conclusion of the sentence that the page heard 
 these words — " And of him I hold myself secure, by Glendin- 
 ning's recommendation." 
 
 ** Ay, which may be as much trustworthy as his late con- 
 duct at the Abbey of St. Mary's : you have heard that his 
 brother's election has taken place. Your favorite Sir 
 Halbert, my Lord of Murray, has as much fraternal affection 
 as yourself." 
 
 *' By Heaven, Morton, that taunt demanded an unfriendly 
 answer, but I pardon it, for your brother also is concerned ; 
 but this election shall be annulled. I tell you. Earl of Mor- 
 ton, while I hold the sword of state in my royal nephew's 
 name, neither lord nor knight in Scotland shall dispute my 
 authority ; and if I bear with insults from my friends, it is 
 only while I know them to be such, and forgive their follies 
 for their faithfulness." 
 
 Morton muttered what seemed to be some excuse, and the 
 Regent answered him in a milder tone, and then subjoined, 
 '* Besides, I have another pledge than Glendinning's recom- 
 mendation for this youth's fidelity : his nearest relative has 
 placed herself in my hands as his security, to be dealt withal 
 as his doings shall deserve." 
 
 **That is something," replied Morton : "but yet, in fair 
 love and good-will, I must still pray you to keep on your 
 guard. The foes are stirring again, as horse-flies and 
 hornets become busy so soon as the storm-blast is over. 
 George of Seyton was crossing the causeway this morning 
 with a score of men at his back, and had a ruffle with my 
 friends of the house of Leslie ; they met at the Tron, and 
 
176 WA VERLEY NO VELS 
 
 were fighting hard, when the provost, with his guard of 
 partizana, came in thirdsman, and staved them asunder with 
 their halberds, as men part dog and bear/' 
 
 "He hath my order for such interference,*' said the 
 Regent. " Has any one been hurt ?" 
 
 " George of Seyton himself, by black Ralph Leslie ; the 
 devil take the rapier that ran not through from side to side ! 
 Ralph has a bloody coxcomb, by a blow from a messan page 
 whom nobody knew ; Dick Seyton of Windy go wl is run 
 through the arm ; and two gallants of the Leslies have suf- 
 fered phlebotomy. This is all the gentle blood which has 
 been spilled in the revel ; but a yeoman or two on both sides 
 have had bones broken and ears cropped. The hostler- 
 wives, who are like to be the only losers by their miscar- 
 riage, have dragged the knaves off the street, and are crying 
 a drunken coronach over them." ■ 
 
 •" You take it lightly, Douglas," said the Regent ; " these 
 broils and feuds would shame the capital of the Great Turk> 
 let alone that of a Christian and Reformed state. But, if 
 I live, this gear shall be amended ; and men shall say, when 
 they read my story, that if it were my cruel hap to rise to 
 power by the dethronement of a sister, I employed it, when 
 gained, for the benefit of the commonweal." 
 
 *' And of your friends," replied Morton ; " wherefore I 
 trust for your instant order annulling the election of this 
 lurdane abbot, Edward Glendinning." 
 
 *' You shall be presently satisfied," said the Regent, and, 
 stepping forward, he began to call, "So ho, Hyndman!" 
 when suddenly his eye lighted on Roland Graeme. " By my 
 faith, Douglas," said he, turning to his friend, "here have 
 been three at counsel ! " 
 
 " Ay, but only two can keep counsel," said Morton ; " the 
 galliard must be disposed of." 
 
 " For shame, Morton — an orphan boy ! Hearken thee, 
 my child. Thou hast told me some of thy accomplishments 
 — canst thou speak truth ?" 
 
 " Ay, my lord, when it serves my turn," replied Graeme. 
 
 "It shall serve thy turn now," said the Regent; "and 
 falsehood shall be thy destruction. How much hast thou 
 heard or understood of what we two have spoken together ?*' ■ 
 
 "But little, my lord," replied Roland Graeme, boldly, 
 ''which met my apprehension, saving that it seemed to me 
 as if in something you doubted the faith of the Knight of 
 Avenel, under whose roof I was nurtured." 
 
 " And what hast thou to say on that point, young man ? " 
 
 i 
 
THE ABBOT 177 
 
 continued the Eegent, bending his eyes upon him with a 
 keen and strong expression of observation. 
 
 ^' That," said the page, ^* depends on the quality of those 
 who speak against his honor whose bread I have long eaten. 
 If they be my inferiors, I say they lie, and will maintain what 
 I say with my baton ; if my equals, still I say they lie, and 
 will do battle in the quarrel, if they list, with my sword ; if 
 my superiors " he paused. 
 
 "Proceed boldly,'' said the Regent. "What if thv 
 superiors said aught that nearly touched your masters 
 honor ? " 
 
 "I would say,'' replied Graeme, " that he did ill to slander 
 the absent, and that my master was a man who could render 
 an account of his actions to any one who should manfully 
 demand it of him to his face." 
 
 "And it were manfully said," replied the Regent. 
 "What thinkest thou, my Lord of Morton ?" 
 
 "I think," replied Morton, "that if the young galliard 
 resemble a certain ancient friend of ours as much in the 
 craft of his disposition as he does in eye and in brow, there 
 may be a wide difference betwixt what he means and what 
 he speaks." 
 
 " And whom meanest thou that he resembles so closely ?" 
 said Murray. 
 
 " Even the true and trusty Julian Avenel," replied Morton. 
 
 " But this youth belongs to the Debateable Land," said 
 Murray. 
 
 " It may be so ; but Julian was an outlying striker of 
 venison, and made many a far cast when he had a fair doe 
 in chase." 
 
 " Pshaw ! " said the Regent, " this is but idle talk. Here, 
 thou Hyndman — thou curiosity," calling to the usher, who 
 now entered, " conduct this youth to his companion. You 
 will both," he said to Graeme, "keep yourselves in readiness 
 to travel on short notice." And then motioning to him 
 courteously to withdraw, he broke up the interview. 
 
 12 
 
CHAPTEE XIX 
 
 It is and is not — 'tis the thing I sought for. 
 
 Have kneel'd for, pray'd for, risk'd my fame and life for, 
 
 And yet it is not — no more than the shadow 
 
 Upon the hard, cold, flat, and polish'd mirror 
 
 Is the warm, graceful, rounded, living substance 
 
 Which it presents in form and lineament. 
 
 Old Play. 
 
 The usher, with gravity which ill concealed a jealous | 
 scowl, conducted Eoland Graeme to a lower apartment, 
 where he found his comrade, the falconer. The man of 
 office then briefly acquainted them that this would be their 
 residence till his Grace's further orders ; that they were to 
 so to the pantry, to the buttery, to the cellar, and to the 
 kitchen, at the usual hours, to receive the allowances be- 
 coming their station — instructions which Adam Woodcock's 
 old familiarity with the court made him perfectly under- 
 stand. ** For your beds," he said, '*you must go to the 
 hostelry of St. Michael's, in respect the palace is now full 
 of the domestics of the greater nobles." 
 
 No sooner was the usher's back turned than Adam ex- 
 claimed, with all the glee of eager curiosity, "And now. 
 Master Eoland, the news — the news ; come, unbutton thy 
 pouch and give us thy tidings. What says the Eegent ? 
 Asks he for Adam Woodcock ? And is all soldered up, or 
 must the Abbot of Unreason strap for it ? " 
 
 "All is well in that quarter." said the page ; "and for 
 
 the rest But, hey-day, what ! have you taken the 
 
 chain and medal off from my bonnet ? " 
 
 " And meet time it was, when yon usher, vinegar-faced 
 rogue that he is, began to inquire what Popish trangam you 
 were wearing. By the mass, the metal would have been 
 confiscated for conscience, sake, like your other rattle-trap 
 yonder at Avenel, which Mrs. Lilias bears about on her 
 shoes in the guise of a pair of shoe-buckles. This comes 
 of carrying Popish nicknackets about you." 
 
 " The jade ! " exclaimed Eoland Graeme, " has she melted 
 down my rosary into buckles for her clumsy hoofs, which 
 will set off such a garnish nearly as well as a cow's might ? 
 
 178 
 
THE ABBOT 179 
 
 Bnt, hang her, let her keep them ; many a dog's trick have 
 I played old Lilias, for want of having something better to 
 ' do, and the buckles will serve for a remembrance. Do you 
 remember the verjuice I put into the comfits, when old 
 Wingate and she were to breakfast together on Easter 
 morning ? " 
 
 " In troth do I, Master Eoland ; the major-domo's mouth 
 was as crooked as a hawk's beak for the whole morning 
 afterwards, and any other page in your room would have 
 tasted the discipline of the porter's lodge for it. But my 
 lady's favor stood between your skin and many a jerking. 
 Lord send you may be the better for her protection in such 
 matters ! " 
 
 *^ I am at least grateful for it, Adam ; and I am glad you 
 put me in mind of it." 
 
 *'Well, but the news, my young master," said Wood- 
 cock — " spell me the tidings ; what are we to fly at next ? 
 What did the Regent say to you ? " 
 
 ** Nothing that I am to repeat again," said Roland Graeme, 
 shaking his head. 
 
 *" Why, hey-day," said Adam, "how prudent we are be- 
 come all of a sudden ! You have advanced rarely in brief 
 space. Master Roland. You have wellnigh had your head 
 broken, and you have gained your gold chain, and you have 
 made an enemy. Master Usher to wit, with his two legs like 
 hawks' perches, and you have had audience of the first man 
 in the realm, and bear as much mystery in your brow as if 
 you had flown in the court-sky ever since you were hatched. 
 I believe in my soul you would run with a piece of egg-shell 
 on your head like the curlews, which — I would we were 
 after them again — we used to call whaups in the halidome 
 and its neighborhood. But sit thee down, boy ; Adam 
 Woodcock was never the lad to seek to enter into forbidden 
 secrets — sit thee down, and I will go fetch the vivers ; I 
 know the butler and the pantler of old." 
 
 The good-natured falconer set forth upon his errand, 
 busying himself about procuring their refreshment ; and 
 during his absence Roland Graeme abandoned himself to the 
 strange, complicated, and yet heart-stirring reflections to 
 which the events of the morning had given rise. Yester- 
 day he was of neither mark nor likelihood, a vagrant boy, 
 the attendant on a relative of whose sane judgment he him- 
 self had not the highest opinion ; but now he had become, 
 he knew not why, or wherefore, or to what extent, the cus- 
 todier, as the Scottish phrase went, of some important state 
 
180 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 Becret, in the safe keeping of which the Eegent himself waa 
 concerned. It did not diminish from, but rather added to, 
 the interest of a situation so unexpected that Roland him- 
 self did not perfectly understand wherein he stood com- 
 mitted by the state secrets in which he had unwittingly be- 
 come participator. On the contrary, he felt like one who 
 looks on a romantic landscape, of which he sees the features 
 for the first time, and then obscured with mist and driving 
 tempest. The imperfect glimpse which the eye catches of 
 rocks, trees, and other objects around him adds double 
 dignity to these shrouded mountains and darkened abysses, 
 of which the height, depth, and extent are left to imagina- 
 tion. 
 
 But mortals, especially at the well-appetized age which 
 
 E recedes twenty years, are seldom so much engaged either 
 y real or conjectural subjects of speculation but that their 
 earthly wants claim their hour of attention. And with many 
 a smile did our hero, so the reader may term him if he will, 
 hail the reanpearance of his friend Adam Woodcock, bearing 
 on one wooaen platter a tremendous portion of boiled beef, 
 and on another a plentiful allowance of greens, or rather 
 what the Scotch call lang-kale. A groom followed with 
 bread, salt, and the other means of setting forth a meal ; and 
 when they had both placed on the oaken table what they 
 bore in their hands, the falconer observed that, since he knew 
 the court, it had got harder and harder every day to the poor 
 gentlemen and yeomen retainers, but that now it was an ab- 
 solute flaying of a flea for the hide and tallow. Such throng- 
 ing to the wicket, and such churlish answers, and such bare 
 beef-bones, such a shouldering at the buttery-hatch, and 
 cellarage, and nought to be gained beyond small insufficient 
 single ale, or at best with a single " straike " of malt to 
 counterbalance a double allowance of water. *' By the mass, 
 though, my young friend, '^ said he, while he saw the food 
 disappearing fast under Eoland's active exertions, "it is not 
 so well to lament for former times as to take the advantage 
 of the present, else we are like to lose on both sides." 
 
 So saying, Adam Woodcock drew his chair towards the 
 table, unsheathed his knife (for every one carried that minis- 
 ter of festive distribution for himself), and imitated his young 
 companion's example, who for the moment had lost his anx- 
 iety for the future in the eager satisfaction of an appetite 
 sharpened by youth and abstinence. 
 
 In truth, they made, though the materials were sufficiently 
 ♦imple, a very respectable meal at the expense of the royal 
 
THE ABBOT 181 
 
 allowance ; and Adam Woodcock, notwithstanding the delib- 
 erate censure which he had passed on the household beer of 
 the palace, had taken the fourth deep draught of the black- 
 jack ere he remembered him that he had spoken in its dis- 
 praise. Then, flinging himself jollily and luxuriously back 
 m an old Danske elbow-chair, and looking with careless glee 
 towards the page, extending at the same time his right leg, 
 and stretching the other easily over it, he reminded his com- 
 panion that he had not yet heard the ballad which he had 
 made for the Abbot of Unreason's revel. And accordingly 
 he struck merrily up with /(qqji: 
 
 " The Pope, that pagan full of pride, 
 Has blinded us full lang " 
 
 Roland Graeme, who felt no great delight, as may be sup- 
 posed, in the falconer's satire, considering its subject, began 
 to snatch up his mantle and fling it around his shoulders, an 
 action whicn instantly interrupted the ditty of Adam Wood- 
 cock. 
 
 " Where the vengeance are you going now," he said, '^ thou 
 restless boy ? Thou hast quicksilver in the veins of thee to a 
 certainty, and canst no more abide any douce and sensible 
 communing than a hoodless hawk would keep perched on 
 my wrist ! 
 
 " Why, Adam,'' replied the page, '' if you must needs 
 know, I am about to take a walk and look at this fair city. 
 One may as well be still mewed up in the old castle of the 
 lake, if one is to sit the livelong night between four walls, 
 and hearken to old ballads." 
 
 " It is a new ballad, the Lord help thee ! " replied Adam, 
 " and that one of the best that ever was matched with a rous- 
 ing chorus." 
 
 '' Be it so," said the page, " I will hear it another day, when 
 the rain is dashing against the windows, and there is neither 
 steed stamping, nor spur jingling, nor feather waving in the 
 neighborhood, to mar my marking it well. But, even now, 
 I want to be in the world, and to look about me." 
 
 '* But the never a stride shall you go without me," said the 
 falconer, '^ until the Eegent shall take you whole and sound 
 off my hand ; and so, if you will, we may go the hostelry of 
 St. Michael's, and there you will see company enough, but 
 through the casement, mark you me ; for as to rambling 
 through the street to seek Seytons and Leslies, and having a 
 dozen holes rifted in your new jacket with rapier and poniard, 
 I will yield no way to it." 
 
182 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 *' To the "hostelry of St. Michaers, then, with all my heart/' 
 gaid the page ; and they left the palace accordingly, rendered 
 to the sentinels at the gate, who had now taken their posts 
 for the evening, a strict account of their names and business, 
 were dismissed through a small wicket of the close-barred 
 portal, and soon reached the inn or hostelry of St. Michael, 
 which stood in a large courtyard, off the main street, close 
 under the descent of the Calton Hill. The place, wide, 
 waste, and uncomfortable, resembled rather an Eastern 
 caravansary, where men found shelter indeed, but were 
 obliged to supply themselves with everything else, than one 
 of our modern inns — 
 
 Where not one comfort shall to those be lost, 
 Who never ask, or never feel, the cost. 
 
 But still, to the inexperienced eye of Eoland Graeme, the 
 bustle and confusion of this place of public resort furnished 
 excitement and amusement. In the large room, into which 
 they had rather found their own way than been ushered by 
 mine host, travelers and natives of the city entered and de- 
 parted, met and greeted, gamed or drank together, forming 
 the strongest contrast to the stern and monotonous order and 
 silence with which matters were conducted in the well-ordered 
 household of the Knight of Avenel. Altercation of every 
 kind, from brawling to jesting, was going on among the 
 groups around them, and yet the noise and mingled voices 
 seemed to disturb no one, and indeed to be noticed by no 
 others than by those who composed the group to which the 
 speaker belonged. 
 
 The falconer passed through the apartment to a projecting 
 latticed window, which formed a sort of recess from the room 
 itself ; and having here esconced himself and his companion, 
 he called for some refreshments ; and a tapster, after he had 
 shouted for the twentieth time, accommodated him with the 
 remains of a cold capon and a neat's tongue, together with a 
 pewter stoup of weak French vin-de-pays. ^' Fetch a stoup 
 of brandy-wine, thou knave. We will be jolly to-night. 
 Master Roland,^' said he, when he saw himself thus accom- 
 modated, *' and let care come to-morrow." 
 
 But Roland had eaten too lately to enjoy the good cheer ; 
 and feeling his curiosity much sharper than his appetite, he 
 made it his choice to look out of the lattice, which overhung 
 a large yard surrounded by the stables of the hostelry, and 
 f«d hig ©yea on the busy sight beneath .: while Adam Wood- 
 
THE ABBOT 183 
 
 cock, after he had compared his companion to the Laird of 
 MacFarlane's geese, who liked their play better than their 
 meat,* disposed of his time with the aid of cup and trencher, 
 occasionally humming the burden of his birth-strangled 
 ballad, and beating time to it with his fingers on the little 
 round table. In this exercise he was frequently interrupted 
 by the exclamations of his companion, as he saw something 
 new in the yard beneath to attract and interest hin. 
 
 It was a busy scene, for the number of gentlemen and 
 nobles who were now crowded into the city had filled all spare 
 stables and places of public reception with their horses and 
 military attendants. There were some score of yeomen dress- 
 ing their own or their masters' horses in the yard — whis- 
 tling, singing, laughing, and upbraiding each other, in a style 
 of wit which the good order of Avenel Castle rendered strange 
 to Roland Graeme's ears. Others were busy repairing their 
 own arms, or cleaning those of their masters. One fellow, 
 having just bought a bundle of twenty spears, was sitting in 
 a corner, employed in painting the white staves of the 
 weapons with yellow and vermilion. Other lackeys led large 
 staghounds, or wolf-dogs, of noble race, carefully muzzled to 
 prevent accidents to passengers. All came and went, mixed 
 together and separated, under the delighted eye of the page, 
 whose imagination had not even conceived a scene so gaily 
 diversified with the objects he had most pleasure in behold- 
 ing ; so that he was perpetually breaking the quiet reverie of 
 honest Woodcock, and the mental progress which he was 
 making in his ditty, by exclaiming, "Look here, Adam — 
 look at the bonny bay horse ; St. Anthony, what a gallant 
 forehand he hath got ! And see the goodly gray, which 
 yonder fellow in the frieze jacket is dressing as awkwardly 
 as if he had never touched aught but a cow ; I would I were 
 nigh him to teach him his trade ! And lo you, Adam, the 
 gay Milan armor that the yeoman is scouring, all steel and 
 silver, like our knight's prime suit, of which old Wingate 
 makes such account. And see to yonder pretty wench, Adam, 
 who comes tripping through them all with her milk-pail ; I 
 warrant me she has had a long walk from the loaning ; she 
 Aas a stammel waistcoat, like your favorite Cicely Sunder- 
 land, Master Adam ! " 
 
 *' By my hood, lad,'* answered the falconer, *' itis well for 
 
 thee thou wert brought up where grace grew. Even in the 
 
 Castle of Avenel thou wert a wild-blood enough ; but hadst 
 
 thou been nurtured here, within a flight-shot of the court, 
 
 * [See The Monastery. Note 10, p. 4411. 
 
184 WAVEELEY NOVELS 
 
 thou liadst been the veriest crack-hemp of a page that evei 
 wore feather in thy bonnet or steel by thy side ; truly, I wish 
 it may end well with thee/' 
 
 ** Nay, but leave thy senseless humming and drumming, 
 old Adam, and come to the window ere thou hast drenched 
 thy senses in the pint-pot there. See, here comes a merry 
 minstrel with his crowd, and a wench with him, that dances 
 with bells at her ankles ; and see, the yeomen and pages 
 leave their horses and the armor they were cleaning, and 
 gather round, as is very natural, to hear the music. Come, 
 old Adam, we will thither too.'' 
 
 '' You shall call me ' cut ' if I do go down,'' said Adam ; 
 ''you are near as good minstrelsy as the stroller can make, 
 if you had but the grace to listen to it." 
 
 " But the wench in the stammel waistcoat is stopping too, 
 Adam ; by Heaven, they are going to dance ! Frieze jacket 
 wants to dance with stammel waistcoat, but she is coy and 
 recusant." 
 
 Then suddenly changing his tone of levity into one of deep 
 interest and surprise, he exclaimed, '' Queen of Heaven ! 
 what is it that I see ?" and then remained silent. 
 
 The sage Adam Woodcock, who was in a sort of languid 
 degree amused with the page's exclamations, even while he 
 professed to despise them, became at length rather desirous 
 to set his tongue once more a-going, that he might enjoy 
 the superiority afforded by his own intimate familiarity with 
 all the circumstances which excited in his young companion's 
 mind so much wonderment. 
 
 *'Well, then," he said at last, ''what is it you do see. 
 Master Eoland, that you have become mute all of a sudden ? " 
 
 Koland returned no answer. 
 
 "I say. Master Koland Graeme," said the falconer, "it is 
 manners in my country for a man to speak when he is 
 spoken to." 
 
 Eoland Graeme remained silent. 
 
 " The murrain is in the boy," said Adam Woodcock, " he 
 has stared out his eyes and talked his tongue to pieces, I 
 think ! " 
 
 The falconer hastily drank off his can of wine, and came 
 to Eoland, who stood like a statue, with his eyes eagerly 
 bent on the courtyard, though Adam Woodcock was unable 
 to detect amongst the joyous scene w^hich it exhibited aught 
 that could deserve such devoted attention. 
 
 " The lad is mazed! " said the falconer to himself. 
 
 But Eoland Grasme had good reasons for his surprise, 
 
I 
 
 THE ABBOT 185 
 
 though they were not such as he could communicate to his 
 companion. 
 
 The touch of the old minstrel's instrument, for he had 
 already begun to play, had drawn in several auditors from 
 the street, when one entered the gate of the yard whose ap- 
 pearance exclusively arrested the attention of Koland Graeme. 
 He was of his own age, or a good deal younger, and from his 
 dress and bearing might be of the same rank and calling, 
 having all the air of coxcombry and pretension which ac- 
 corded with a handsome, though slight and low, figure and 
 an elegant dress, in part hid by a large purple cloak. As he 
 entered, he cast a glance up towards the windows, and, to 
 his extreme astonishment, under the purple velvet bonnet 
 and white feather, Roland recognized the features so deeply 
 impressed on his memory, the bright and clustered tresses, 
 the laughing full blue eyes, the well-formed eyebrows, the 
 nose with the slightest possible inclination to be aquiline, 
 the ruby lip, of which an arch and half -suppressed smile 
 seemed the habitual expression — in short, the form and face 
 of Catherine Seyton ; in man's attire, however, and mimick- 
 iag, as it seemed not unsuccessfully^ the bearing of a youth- 
 ful but forward page. 
 
 " St. George and St. Andrew ! " exclaimed the mazed Roland 
 Grseme to himself, '^ was there ever such an audacious 
 quean ! She seems a little ashamed of her mummery too, 
 for she holds the lap of her cloak to her face, and her color 
 is heightened; but, Sancta Maria, how she threads the throng, 
 with as firm and bold a step as if she had never tied petti- 
 coat round her waist ! Holy saints ! she holds up her riding- 
 rod as if she would lay it about some of their ears that stand 
 most in her way ; by trie hand of my father ! she bears her- 
 self like the very model of pagehood. Hey ! what ! sure 
 she will not strike frieze jacket in earnest ?'' But he was 
 not long left in doubt ; for the lout whom he had before 
 repeatedly noticed, standing in the way of the bustling page, 
 and maintaining his place with clownish obstinacy or 
 stupidity, the advanced riding-rod was, without a moment's 
 hesitation, sharply applied to his shoulders, in a manner 
 which made him spring aside, rubbing the part of the body 
 which had received so unceremonious a hint that it was in 
 the way of his betters. The party injured growled forth an 
 oath or two of indignation, and Roland Graeme began to 
 think of flying downstairs to the assistance of the translated 
 Catherine ; but the laugh of the yard was against frieze 
 jacket, which indeed had, in those days, small chance of 
 
IM WAVERLET NOVELS 
 
 fair play in a quarrel with velvet and embroidery ; so that 
 the fellow, who was a menial in the inn, slunk back to finish 
 his task of dressing the bonny gray, laughed at bj all, but 
 most by the wench in the stammel waistcoat, his fellow- 
 servant, who, to crown his disgrace, had the cruelty to cast 
 an applauding smile upon the author of the injury, while, 
 with a freedom more like the milkmaid of the town than 
 she of the plains, she accosted him with — '* Is there any one 
 you want here, my pretty gentleman, that you seem in such 
 haste?'' 
 
 " I seek a slip of a lad," said the seeming gallant, " with 
 a sprig of holly in his cap, black hair and black eyes, green 
 jacket, and the air of a country coxcomb ; I have sought him 
 through every close and alley in the Canongate — ^the fiend 
 gore him ! " 
 
 "Why, God-a-mercy, nun!*' muttered Roland Graeme, 
 much bewildered. 
 
 *' I will inquire him presently out for your fair young 
 worship," said the wench of the inn. 
 
 **Do," said the gallant squire, ''and if you bring me to 
 him you shall have a groat to-night, and a kiss on Sunday 
 when you have on a cleaner kirtle.'* 
 
 " Why, God-a-mercy, nun ! " again muttered Roland, '' this 
 is a note above E La.'' 
 
 In a moment after the servant entered the room, nnd ush- 
 ered in the object of his surprise. 
 
 While the disguised vestal looked with unabaahed brow, 
 and bold and rapid glance of her eye, through the various 
 parties in the large old room, Roland Graeme, who felt an 
 internal awkward sense of bashful confusion, which he 
 deemed altogether unworthy of the bold and dashing char- 
 acter to which he aspired, determined not to be browbeaten 
 and put down by this singular female, but to meet her with 
 a glance of recognition so sly, so penetrating, so expressively 
 humorous, as should show her at once he was in possession 
 of her secret and master of her fate, and should compel her 
 to humble herself towards him, at least into the look and 
 manner of respectful and deprecating observance. 
 
 This was extremely well planned ; but, just as Roland had 
 called up the knowing glance, the suppressed smile, the 
 shrewd intelligent look which was to insure his triumph, he 
 encountered the bold, firm, and steady gaze of his brother or 
 sister page, who, casting on him a falcon glance, and recog- 
 nizing him at once as the object of his search, walked up 
 with the most unconcerned look, the most free and undaunted 
 
TBE ABBOT 387 
 
 composure, and hailed him with, ** You, sir holly- top, I 
 would speak with you." 
 
 The steady coolness and assurance with which these words 
 were uttered, although the voice was the veiy voice he had 
 heard at the old convent, and although the features more 
 nearly resembled those of Catherine when seen close than 
 when viewed from a distance, produced, nevertheless, such 
 a confusion in Eoland's mind that he became uncertain 
 whether he was not still under a mistake from the beginning; 
 the knowing shrewdness which should have animated his 
 visage faded into a sheepish bashfulness, and the half-sup- 
 pressed but most intelligible smile became the senseless gig- 
 gle of one who laughs to cover his own disorder of ideas. 
 
 " Do they understand a Scotch tongue in thy country, 
 holly-top ?" said this marvelous specimen of metamorphosis. 
 " I said I would speak with thee." 
 
 " What is your business with my comrade, my young 
 chick of the game ?" said Adam Woodcock, willing to step 
 in to his companion's assistance, though totally at a loss to 
 account for the sudden disappearance of all Roland's usual 
 smartness and presence of mind. 
 
 " Nothing to you, my old cock of the perch," replied the 
 gallant; "go mind your hawk's castings. I guess by your 
 bag and your gauntlet that you are squire of the body to a 
 sort of kites." 
 
 He laughed as he spoke, and the laugh reminded Roland 
 so irresistibly of the hearty fit of risibility in which Cathe- 
 rine had indulged at his expense when they first met in the 
 old nunnery, that he could scarce help exclaiming, " Cathe- 
 rine Seyton, by Heavens!" He checked the exclamation, 
 however, and only said, *^ I think, sir, we two are not totally 
 strangers to each other." 
 
 *' We must have met in our dreams, then," said the youth; 
 " and my days are too busy to remember what I think on at 
 nights." 
 
 '* Or apparently to remember upon one day those whom you 
 may have seen on the preceding eve," said Roland Graeme. 
 
 The youth in his turn cast on him a look of some surprise, 
 as he replied, ' ' I know no more of what you mean than does 
 the horse I ride on ; if there be offense in your words, you 
 shall find me as ready to take it as any lad in Lothian." 
 
 '*You know well," said Roland, ''though it pleases you 
 to use the language of a stranger, that with you I can have 
 no purpose to quarrel." 
 
188 WAVEBLEY NOVELS 
 
 " Let me do mine errand, then, and be rid of you/' said 
 the page. '^ Step hither this way, out of that old leathern 
 fist^s hearing." 
 
 They walked into the recess of the window, which Eoland 
 had left upon the youth's entrance into the apartment. The 
 messenger then turned his back on the company, after cast- 
 ing a hasty and sharp glance around to see if they were ob- 
 served. Roland did the same, and the page in the purple 
 mantle thus addressed him, taking at the same time from 
 under his cloak a short, but beautifully-wrought sword, 
 with the hilt and ornaments upon the sheath of silver, mas- 
 sively chased and over-gilded: '^I bring you this weapon 
 from a friend, who gives it you under the solemn condition that 
 you will not unsheathe it until you are commanded by your 
 rightful sovereign. For your warmth of temper is known, 
 and the presumption with which you intrude yourself into the 
 quarrels of others ; and, therefore, this is laid upon you as a 
 penance by those who wish you well, and whose hand will in- 
 fluence your destiny for good or for evil. This is what 1 was 
 charged to tell you. So if you will give a fair word for a fair 
 sword, and pledge your promise, with hand and glove, good 
 and well ; and if not, 1 will carry back Caliburn to those 
 who sent it.'^ 
 
 " And may I not ask who these are ?*' said Roland Graeme, 
 admiring at the same time the beauty of the weapon thus 
 offered him. 
 
 " My commission in no way leads me to answer such a 
 question," said he of the purple mantle. 
 
 " But if I am offended," said Roland, " may I not draw 
 to defend myself ? " 
 
 *' Not this weapon," answered the sword-bearer ; ''but you 
 have your own at command, and, besides, for what do you 
 wear your poniard ? " 
 
 *' For no good," said Adam Woodcock, who had now ap- 
 proached close to them, " and that I can witness as well as 
 any one." 
 
 '' Stand back, fellow," said the messenger ; " thou hast an 
 intrusive, curious face, that will come by a buffet if it is 
 found where it has no concern." 
 
 ''A buffet, my young Master Malapert?" said Adam, 
 drawing back, however; ''best keep down fist, or, by Our 
 Lady, buffet will beget buffet !" 
 
 "Be patient, Adam Woodcock," said Roland Graeme •, 
 " and let me pray you, fair sir, since by such addition you 
 choose for the present to be addressed, may I not barely un- 
 
THE ABBOT 189 
 
 sheathe this weapon, in pure simplicity of desire to know 
 whether so fair a hilt and scabbard are matched with a be- 
 fitting blade ? " 
 
 /' By no manner of means/' said the messenger ; '* at a 
 word, you must take it under the promise that you never 
 draw it until you receive the commands of your lawful sover- 
 eign, or you must leave it alone/' 
 
 '* Under that condition, and coming from your friendly 
 hand, I accept of the sword," said Eoland, taking it from 
 his hand ; '^ but credit me, that if we are to work together 
 in any weighty emprise, as I am induced to believe, some 
 confidence and openness on your part will be necessary to 
 give the right impulse to my zeal. I press for no more at 
 present, it is enough that you understand me/' 
 
 ** I understand you ! " said the page, exhibiting the ap- 
 pearanoe of unfeigned surprise in his turn. '^ Eenounce me 
 if I do ! Here you stand jiggling, and sniggling, and look- 
 ing cunning, as if there were some mighty matter of intrigue 
 and common understanding betwixt you and me, whom you 
 never set your eyes on before ! " 
 
 " What ! " said Eoland Graeme, *' will you deny that we 
 have met before ? " 
 
 " Marry that I will, in any Christian court," said the 
 other page. 
 
 '•' And will you also deny," said Eoland, " that it was rec- 
 ommended to us to study each other's features well, that, 
 in whatever disguise the time might impose upon us, each 
 should recognize in the other the secret agent of a mighty 
 work ? Do not you remember that Sisters Magdalen and 
 
 I 
 
 Dame Bridget- 
 
 The messenger here interrupted him, shrugging up his 
 shoulders with a look of compassion — " Bridget and Mag 
 dalen ! why, this is madness and dreaming ! Hark ye. 
 Master Holly top, your wits are gone on wool-gathering ; 
 comfort yourself with a caudle, thatch your brain-sick 
 noddle with a woolen nightcap, and so God be with you ! " 
 
 As he concluded this polite parting address, Adam Wood- 
 cock, who was again seated by the table on which stood the 
 now empty can, said to him, " Will you drink a cup, young 
 man, in the way of courtesy, now you have done your errand, 
 and listen to a good song?" and without waiting for an 
 answer, he commenced his ditty — 
 
 ** The Pope, that pagan full of pride 
 Hath blinded us fTiIllong -*' 
 
190 WA VERLET NO VELS 
 
 It is probable that the good wine had made some innovation 
 in the falconer's brain, otherwise he would have recollected 
 the danger of introducing anything like political or polemi- 
 cal pleasantry into a public assemblage, at a time when men's 
 minds were in a state of great irritability. To do him justice, 
 he perceived his error, and stopped short so soon as he saw 
 that the word ''Pope" had at once interrupted the separate 
 conversations of the various parties which were assembled in 
 the apartment; and that many began to draw themselves up, 
 bridle, look big, and prepare to take part in the impending 
 brawl; while others, more decent and cautious persons, 
 hastily paid down their lawing, and prepared to leave the 
 place ere bad should come to worse. 
 
 And to worse it was soon likely to come ; for no sooner did 
 Woodcock's ditty reach the ear of the stranger page, than, 
 uplifting his riding-rod, he exclaimed, ** He who speaks ir- 
 reverently of the Holy Father of the church in my presence 
 is the cub of a heretic wolf-bitch, and I will switch him as I 
 would a mongrel cur!" 
 
 " And I will break thy young pate," said Adam, **if thou 
 darest to lift a finger to me." And then, in defiance of the 
 young Drawcansir's threats, with a stout heart and dauntless 
 accent, he again uplifted the stave, 
 
 "The Pope, that pagan full of pride, 
 Hath blinded " 
 
 But Adam was able to proceed farther, being himself unfor- 
 tunately blinded by a stroke of the impatient youth's switch 
 across his eyes. Enraged at once by the smart and the in- 
 dignity, the falconer started up, and darkling as he was — 
 for his eyes watered too fast to permit his seeing anything — 
 he would soon have been at close grips with his insolent ad- 
 versary, had not Roland Graeme, contrary to his nature, 
 played for once the prudent man and the peacemaker, and 
 thrown himself betwixt them, imploring Woodcock's patience 
 " You know not," he said, '* with whom you nave to do. 
 And thou," addressing the messenger, who stood scornfully 
 laughing at Adam's rage, '^ get thee gone, whoever thou art ; 
 if thou be'st what I guess thee, thou well knowest there are 
 earnest reasons why thou shouldst." 
 
 *' Thou hast hit it right for once, holly-top," said the gal- 
 lant, '^ though I guess you drew your bow at a venture. 
 Here, host, let this yeoman have a bottle of wine to wash the 
 smart out of his eyes^ and there is a French crown for him.^ 
 
THE ABBOT 19i 
 
 So saying, he threw the piece of money on the table, and 
 left the apartment with a quick but steady pace, looking 
 firmly at right and left, as if to defy interruption, and snap- 
 ping his fingers at two or three respectable burghers, who, 
 declaring it was a shame that any one should be suffered to 
 rant and ruffle in defense of the Pope, were laboring to find 
 the hilts of their swords, which had got for the present un- 
 happily entangled in the folds of their cloaks. But, as the 
 adversary was gone ere any of them had reached his weapon, 
 they did not think it necessary to unsheathe cold iron, but 
 merely observed to each other, **' This is more than master- 
 ful violence, to see a poor man stricken in the face just for 
 singing a ballad against the Whore of Babylon ! If the Pope's 
 champions are to be bangsfcers in our very change-houses, 
 we shall soon have the old shavelings back again/' 
 
 " The provost should look to it," said another, '* and have 
 some five or six armed with partisans, to come in upon the 
 first whistle, to teach these gallants their lesson. For, look 
 you, neighbor Lugleather, it is not for decent householders 
 like ourselves to be brawling with the godless grooms and 
 pert pages of the nobles, that are bred up to little else save 
 bloodshed and blasphemy. '^ 
 
 *' For all that, neighbor,'' said Lugleather, "I would have 
 curried that youngster as properly as ever I curried a lamb's 
 hide, had not the hilt of my bilbo been for the instant be- 
 y^ond my grasp ; and before I could turn my girdle, gone 
 was my master ! " 
 
 '' Ay," said the others, " the devil go with him, and peace 
 abide with us ; I give my rede, neighbors, that we pay the 
 lawing, and be stepping homeward, like brother and brother ; 
 for old St. Giles's is tolling curfew, and the street grows 
 dangerous at night." 
 
 With that the good burghers adjusted their cloaks and 
 prepared for their departure, while he that seemed the brisk- 
 est of the three, laying his hand on his Andrea Ferrara, ob- 
 served, " That they that spoke in praise of the Pope on the 
 Highgate of Edinburgh had best bring the sword of St. 
 Peter to defend them." 
 
 While the ill humor excited by the insolence of the young 
 aristocrat was thus evaporating in empty menace, Roland 
 Graeme had to control the far more serious indignation of 
 Adam Woodcock. '' Why man, it was but a switch across 
 the mazzard ; blow your nose, dry your eyes, and you will 
 dee all the better for it." 
 
 " By this light, which I cannot see," said Adam Woodcock, 
 
192 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 " thou hast been a false friend to me, young man, neither 
 taking up my rightful quarrel nor letting me fight it out 
 myself/' 
 
 '' Fy, for shame, Adam Woodcock," replied the youth, de- 
 termined to turn the tables on him, and become in turn the 
 counselor of good order and peaceable demeanor — '^ I say, fy 
 for shame ! Alas, that you will speak thus ! Here are you 
 sent with me, to prevent an innocent youth getting into 
 snares " 
 
 ** I wish your innocent youth were cut short with a halter, 
 with all my heart ! " said Adam, who began to see which 
 way the admonition tended. 
 
 — *' And instead of setting before me," continued Eoland, 
 " an example of patience and sobriety becoming the falconer 
 of Sir Halbert Glendenning, you quaff me off I know not 
 how many flagons of ale, besides a gallon of wine, and a full 
 measure of strong waters ! " 
 
 '' It was but one small pottle," said poor Adam, whom con- 
 sciousness of his own indiscretion now reduced to a merely 
 defensive warfare. 
 
 *' It was enough to pottle you handsomely, however," said 
 the page. '' And then instead of going to bed to sleep off 
 your liquor, you must sit singing your roisterous songs about 
 popes and pagans, till you have got your eyes almost switched 
 out of your head ; and but for my interference, whom your 
 drunken ingratitude accuses of deserting you, yon galliard 
 would have cut your throat, for he was whipping out a whin- 
 ger as broad as my hand and as sharp as a razor. And these 
 are lessons for an inexperienced youth ! Oh, Adam ! out 
 upon you ! — out upon you ! " 
 
 " Marry, amen, and with all my heart," said Adam ; "out 
 upon my folly for expecting anything but impertinent rail- 
 ery from a page like thee, that, if he saw his father in a 
 scrape, would laugh at him, instead of lending him aid ! " 
 
 "Nay, but I will lend you aid," said the page, still laugh- 
 ing ; " that is, I will lend thee aid to thy chamber, good 
 Adam, where thou shalt sleep off wine and ale, ire and in- 
 dignation, and awake the next morning with as much fair 
 wit as nature has blessed thee withal. Only one thing I will 
 warn thee, good Adam, that henceforth and forever, when 
 thou railest at me for being somewhat hot at hand, and rather 
 too prompt to out with poniard or so, thy admonition shall 
 serve as a prologue to the memorable adventure of the 
 switching of St. Michael's." 
 
 With such condoling expressions he got the crestfallen 
 
THE ABBOT 193 
 
 falconer to his bed, and then retired to his own pallet, where 
 it was some time ere he could fall asleep. If the messenger 
 whom he had seen were really Catherine Seyton, what a mas- 
 culine virago and termagant must she be ! and stored with 
 what an inimitable command of insolence and assurance ! 
 The brass on her brow would furbish the front of twenty 
 pages ; "and I should know," thought Roland, ** what that 
 amounts to. And yet, her features, her look, her light gait, 
 her laughing eye, the art with which she disposed the mantle 
 to show no more of her limbs than needs must be seen — I am 
 glad she had at least that grace left — the voice, the smile — 
 it must have been Catherine Seyton, or the devil in her like- 
 ness ! One thing is good, I have silenced the eternal pre- 
 dictions of that ass, Adam Woodcock, who has set up for 
 being a preacher and a governor over me, so soon as he has 
 left the hawk^s mew behind him." 
 
 And with this comfortable reflection, joined to the happy 
 indifference which youth hath for the events of the morrow, 
 Roland Graeme fell fast asleep. 
 
 n 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 Now have you reft me from my staff, my guide, 
 Who taught my youth, as men teach untamed falcons, 
 To use my strength discreetly — I am reft 
 Of comrade and of counsel I 
 
 Old Play. 
 
 In the gray of the next morning's dawn there was a loud 
 knocking at the gate of the hostelry, and those without, 
 proclaiming that they came in the name of the Regent were 
 instantly admitted. A moment or two afterwards, Michael 
 Wing- the- Wind stood by the bedside of our travelers. 
 
 *' Up ! — up ! " he said, '* there is no slumber where Murray 
 hath work ado." 
 
 Both sleepers sprung up, and began to dress themselves. 
 
 '* You, old friend," said Wing-the-Wind to Adam Wood- 
 cock, '' must to horse instantly, with this packet to the 
 monks of Kennaquhair, and with this," delivering them as 
 he spoke, '' to the Knight of Avenel." 
 
 "As much as commanding the monks to annul their elec- 
 tion, I'll warrant me, of an abbot," quoth Adam Woodcock, 
 as he put the packets into his bag, " and charging my master 
 to see it done. To hawk at one brother with another is 
 less than fair play, methinks." 
 
 *'Fash not thy beard about it, old boy," said Michael, 
 " but betake thee to the saddle presently ; for if these orders 
 are not obeyed there will be bare walls at the kirk of St. 
 Mary's, and it may be at the Castle of Avenel to boot ; for I 
 heard my Lord of Morton loud with the Regent, and we are 
 at a pass that we cannot stand with him anent trifles." 
 
 " But," said Adam, " touching the Abbot of Unreason — 
 what say they to that outbreak ? An they be shrewishly 
 disposed, I were better pitch the packets to Satan, and take 
 the other side of the Border for my bield." 
 
 " 0, that was passed over as a jest, since there was little 
 harm done. But hark thee, Adam," continued his comrade, 
 " if there were a dozen vacant abbacies in your road, wheth- 
 er of jest or earnest, reason or unreason, draw thou never 
 one of their miters over thy brows. The time is not fitting, 
 
 194 
 
THE ABBOT 195 
 
 man ; besides, our maiden longs to clip the neck of a fat 
 churchman." 
 
 '* She shall never sheer mine in that capacity/' said the 
 falconer, while he knotted the kerchief in two or three 
 double folds around his sunburnt bull-neck, calling out at 
 the same time, '^ Master Roland — Master Roland, make 
 haste ! we must back to perch and mew, and, thank Heaven 
 more than our own wit, with our bones whole, and without 
 a stab in the stomach." 
 
 " Nay, but," said Wing-the-Wind, " the page goes not 
 back with you : the Regent has other employment for 
 Mm." 
 
 " Saints and sorrows ! " exclaimed the falconer. '' Master 
 Roland Graeme to remain here, and I to return to Avenel ! 
 Why, it cannot be : the child cannot manage himself in 
 this wide world without me, and I question if he will stoop 
 to any other whistle than mine own ; there are times I myself 
 can hardly bring him to my lure." 
 
 It was at Roland's tongue's end to say something concern- 
 ing the occasion they had for using mutually each other's 
 prudence ; but the real anxiety which Adam evinced at part- 
 mg with him took away his disposition to such ungracious 
 raillery. The falconer did not altogether escape, however, 
 for, in turninghisface towards the lattice, his friend Michael 
 caught a glimpse of it, and exclaimed, '"^I prithee, Adam 
 Woodcock, what hast thou been doing with these eyes of 
 thine ? They are swelled to the starting from the socket ! " 
 
 " Nought in the world," said he, after casting a deprecat- 
 ing glace at Roland Graeme, "but the effect of sleeping in 
 this d d truckle without a pillow." 
 
 '' Why, Adam Woodcock, thou must be grown strangely 
 dainty, said his old companion ; '' I have known thee sleep 
 all night with no better pillow than a bush of ling, and 
 start up with the sun as gleg as a falcon ; and now thine 
 eyes resemble " 
 
 " Tush man, what signifies how mine eyes look now ? " 
 said Adam. " Let us but roast a crab-apple, pour a pottle 
 of ale on it, and bathe our throats withal, thou shalt see a 
 change in me." 
 
 " And thou wilt be in heart to sing thy jolly ballad about 
 the Pope ? " said his comrade. 
 
 "Ay, that I will," replied the falconer, "that is, when 
 we have left this quiet town five miles behind us, if you will 
 I take your hobby and ride so far on my way." 
 
 "Nay, that I may not," said Michael ; " I can but stop 
 
196 WAVEBLEY NOVELS 
 
 to partake your morning's draught, and see you fairly to 
 horse ; I will see that they saddle them, and toast the crab 
 for thee, without loss of time.'^ 
 
 During his absence the falconer took the page by the 
 hand. "May I never hood hawk again,'' said the good- 
 natured fellow, " if I am not as sorry to part with you as if 
 you were a child of mine own, craving pardon for the free- 
 dom ; I cannot tell what makes me love you so much, un- 
 less it be for the reason that I loved the vicious devil of a 
 brown Galloway nag, whom my master the knight called 
 Satan, till Master Warden changed his name to Seyton ; for 
 he said it was over boldness to call a beast after the King of 
 Darkness '* 
 
 *' And," said the page, " it was over boldness in him, I 
 trow, to call a vicious brute after a noble family." 
 
 " Well," proceeded Adam, '' Seyton or Satan, I loved that 
 nag over every other horse in the stable. There was no 
 sleeping on his back : he was forever fidgeting, bolting, 
 rearing, biting, kicking, and giving you work to do, and 
 maybe the measure of your back on the heather to the boot 
 of it all. And I think I love you better than any lad in the 
 castle for the self -same qualities." 
 
 " Thanks — thanks, kind Adam. I regard myself bound 
 to you for the good estimation in which you hold me." 
 
 "Nay, interrupt me not," said the falconer ; " Satan was 
 a good nag. But, I say, I think I shall call the two eyases 
 after you — the one Eoland and the other Graeme ; and, 
 while Adam Woodcock lives, be sure you have a friend. 
 Here is to thee, my dear son." 
 
 Roland most heartily returned the grasp of the hand, an(J 
 Woodcock, having taken a deep draught, continued his fare- 
 well speech. 
 
 " There are three things I warn you against, Roland, now 
 that you are to tread this weary world without my experi- 
 ence to assist you. In the first place, never draw dagger on 
 slight occasion : every man's doublet is not so well stuffed 
 as a certain abbot's that you wot of. Secondly, fly not at 
 every pretty girl, like a merlin at a thrush ; you will not 
 always, win a gold chain for your labor; and, by the way, 
 here I return to you your fanfarona ; keep it close, it is 
 weighty, and may benefit you at a pinch more ways thai;i 
 one. Thirdly, and to conclude, as our worthy preacher says, 
 beware of the pottle-pot : it has drenched the judgment of 
 wiser men than you. I could bring some instances of it, 
 but I daresay it needeth not ; for if you should forget your 
 
THE AhSOT m 
 
 own mishaps, you will scarce fail to remember mine. And 
 BO farewell, my dear son." 
 
 Eoland returned his good wishes, and failed not to send 
 his humble duty to his kind lady, charging the falconer at 
 the same time to express his regret that he should have 
 offended her, and his determination so to bear him in the 
 world that she would not be ashamed of the generous pro- 
 tection she had afforded him. 
 
 The falconer embraced his young friend, mounted his 
 tetout, round-made, trotting nag, which the serving-man who 
 had attended him held ready at the door, and took the road 
 to the southward. A sullen and heavy sound echoed from 
 the horse's feet, as if indicating the sorrow of the good- 
 natured rider. Every hoof-tread seemed to tap upon Po- 
 land's heart as he heard his comrade withdraw with so lit- 
 tle of his usual alert activity, and felt that he was once 
 more alone in the world. 
 
 He was roused from his reverie by Michael Wing-the- 
 "Wind, who reminded him that it was necessary they should 
 instantly return to the palace, as my Lord Regent went to 
 the sessions early in the morning. They went thither ac- 
 cordingly, and Wing-the-Wind, a favorite old domestic, who 
 was admitted nearer to the Regent's person and privacy than 
 many whose posts were more ostensible, soon introduced 
 Graeme into a small matted chamber, where he had an au- 
 dience of the present head of the troubled state of Scot- 
 land. The Earl of Murray was clad in a sad-colored morn- 
 ing-gown, with a cap and slippers of the same cloth ; but, 
 even in this easy dishabille, held his sheathed rapier in his 
 hand — a precaution which he adopted when receiving stran- 
 gers, rather in compliance with the earnest remonstrances 
 of his friends and partizans than from any personal appre- 
 hensions of his own. He answered with a silent nod the 
 respectful obeisance of the page, and took one or two turns 
 through the small apartment in silence, fixing his keen eye 
 on Roland, as if he wished to penetrate into his very soul. 
 At length he broke silence. 
 
 " Your name is, I think, Julian Graeme ?" 
 
 '* Roland Graeme, my lord — not Julian,*' replied the 
 page. ^ 
 
 I'' Right — I was misled by some trick of my memory. Ro- 
 land Graeme, from the Debateable Land. Roland, thou 
 knowest the duties which belong to a lady's service ?" 
 *' I should know them, my lord," replied Roland, " hav- 
 ing been bred so near the person of my Lady of Avenel ; but 
 
186 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 I trust never more to practise them, as the knight hath 
 promised " 
 
 " Be silent, young man,*' said the Regent ; " I am to speak, 
 and you to hear and obey. It is necessary that, for some 
 space at least, you shall again enter into the service of a lady, 
 who in rank hath no equal in Scotland ; and this service ac- 
 complished, I give thee my word as knight and prince that 
 it shall open to you a course of ambition such as may well 
 gratify the aspiring wishes of one whom circumstances 
 entitle to entertain much higher views than thou. I will 
 take thee into my household and near to my person, or at 
 your own choice, I will give you the command of afoot-com- 
 pany ; either is a preferment which the proudest laird in the 
 land might be glad to insure for a second son.*' 
 
 *' May I presume to ask, my lord,*' said Roland, observing 
 the Earl paused for a reply, '^ to whom my poor services are 
 in the first place destined ? '* 
 
 ** You will be told hereafter," said the Regent ; and then, 
 as if overcoming some internal reluctance to speak further 
 himself, he added, "or why should I not myself tell you that 
 you are about to enter into the service of a most illustrious 
 — most unhappy, lady — into the service of Mary of Scot- 
 land.*' 
 
 ** Of the Queen, my lord ?" said the page, unable to re- 
 press his surprise. 
 
 ** Of her who was the Queen ! " said Murray, with a sin- 
 gular mixture of displeasure and embarrassment in his tone 
 of voice. ''You must be aware, young man, that her son 
 reigns in her stead." 
 
 He sighed from an emotion partly natural, perhaps, and 
 partly assumed. 
 
 *' And am I to attend upon her Grace in her place of im- 
 prisonment, my lord?" again demanded the page, with a 
 stiaightforward and hardy simplicity which somewhat discon- 
 certed the sage and powerful statesman. 
 
 *' She is not imprisoned," answered Murray, angrily, " God 
 forbid she should : she is only sequestrated from state affairs, 
 and from the business of the public, until the world be so 
 effectually settled that she may enjoy her natural and uncon- 
 trolled freedom, without her royal disposition being exposed 
 to the practises of wicked and designing men. It is for this 
 purpose," he added, *' that, while she is to be furnished, 
 as right is, with such attendance as may befit her present 
 secluded state, it becomes necessary that those placed around 
 her are persons on whose prudence I can have reliance. 
 
THE ABBOT 199 
 
 Y«u 8ee, therefore, yon are at once called on to discharge 
 an office most honorable in itself, and so to discharge it that 
 you may make a friend of the Regent of Scotland. Thou 
 art, I have been told, a singularly apprehensive youth ; and 
 I perceive by thy look that thou dost already understand 
 what I would say on this matter. In this schedule your 
 particular points of duty are set down at length ; but the 
 sum required of you is fidelity — I mean fidelity to myself 
 and to the state. You are, therefore, to watch every attempt 
 which is made, or inclination displayed, to open any com- 
 munication with any of the lords who have become banders 
 in the west — with Hamilton, Seyton, with Fleming, or the 
 like. It is true that my gracious sister, reflecting upon the 
 ill chances that have happed to the state of this poor king-j 
 dom, from evil counselors who have abused her royal nature 
 in time past, hath determined to sequestrate herself from 
 state affairs in future. But it is our duty, as acting for and 
 in the name of our infant nephew, to guard against the evils 
 which may arise from any mutation or vacillation in her 
 royal resolutions. Wherefore, it will be thy duty to watch, 
 and report to our lady mother, whose guest our sister is for 
 the present, whatever may infer a disposition to withdraw 
 her person from the place of security in which she is lodged, 
 or to open communication with those without. If, however, 
 your observation should detect anything of weight, and 
 which may exceed mere suspicion, fail not to send notice by 
 an especial messenger to me directly, and this ring shall be 
 thy warrant to order horse and man on such service. And 
 now begone. If there be half the wit in thy head that there 
 is apprehension in thy look, thou fully comprehendest all 
 that I would say. Serve me faithfully, and sure as I am 
 belted earl thy reward shall be great. ^' 
 
 Koland Graeme made an obeisance, and was about to de- 
 part. 
 
 The Earl signed to him to remain. *' I have trusted thee 
 deeply,*^ he said, " young man, for thou art the only one of 
 her suite who has been sent to her by my own recommenda- 
 tion. Her gentlewomen are of her own nomination : it were 
 I too hard to have barred her that privilege, though some there 
 were who reckoned it inconsistent with sure policy. Thou 
 art young and handsome. Mingle in their follies, and see 
 they cover not deeper designs under the appearance of female 
 levity ; if they do mine, do thou countermme. For the rest, 
 
 bear all decorum and respect to the person of thy mistress 
 •he is a princess, though a most unhappy one, and hath been 
 
;iOO WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 a queen, thougli now, alas ! no longer such. Pay, therefore, 
 to her all honor and respect consistent with thy fidelity to 
 the King and me. And now, farewell ! Yet stay — you 
 travel with Lord Lindesay, a man of the old world, rough 
 and honest, though untaught ; see that thou offend him not, 
 for he is not patient of raillery, and thou, I have heard, art 
 a crack-halter. " This he said with a smile ; then added, 
 '^ I could have wished the Lord Lindesay's mission had been 
 entrusted to some other and more gentle noble/' 
 
 "And wherefore should you wish that, my lord?'' said 
 Morton, who even then entered the apartment ; " the council 
 have decided for the best ; we have had but too many proofs 
 of this lady's stubbornness of mind, and the oak that resists 
 the sharp steel ax must be riven with the rugged iron 
 wedge. And this is to be her page ? My Lord Regent hath 
 doubtless instructed you, young man, bow you shall guide 
 yourself in these matters ; I will add but a little hint on my 
 part. You are going to the castle of a Douglas, where 
 treachery never thrives : the first moment of suspicion will 
 be the last of your life. My kinsman, William Douglas, 
 understands no raillery, and if he once have cause to think 
 you false, you will waver in the wind from the castle battle- 
 ments ere the sun set upon his anger. And is the lady to 
 have an almoner withal ?" 
 
 '^ Occasionally, Douglas," said the R gent ; '^ it were 
 hard to deny the spiritual consolation which she thinks 
 essential to her salvation." 
 
 '' You are ever too soft-hearted, my lord. What ! a false 
 priest to communicate her lamentations, not only to our un- 
 friends in Scotland, but to the Guises, to Rome, to Spain, 
 and I know not where ! " 
 
 " Fear not," said the Regent, '' we will take such order 
 that no treachery shall happen." 
 
 " Look to it, then," said Morton ; ''you know my mind 
 respecting the wench you have consented she shall receive 
 as a waiting-woman — one of a family which, of all others, 
 has ever been devoted to her and inimical to us. Had we 
 not been wary, she would have been purveyed of a page as 
 much to her purpose as her waiting-damsel. I hear a rumor 
 that an old mad Romish pilgrimer, who passes for at least 
 half a saint among them, was employed to find a fit sub- 
 ject." 
 
 '' We have escaped that danger at least," said Murray, 
 " and converted it into a point of advantage by sending 
 this boy of Glendinning's ; and for her waiting-damsel, you 
 
i 
 
 
 CV-S^ 
 
 ** * Is this the jackanape page for whom we have waited tlius long ? ' 
 
THE ABBOT 201 
 
 cannot grudge lier one poor maiden instead of her four 
 noble Maries and all their silken train ? '' 
 
 '^ I care not so much for the waiting-maiden/' said 
 Morton, " but I cannot brook the almoner : I think priests 
 of all persuasions are much like each other. Here is John 
 Knox, who made such a noble puller-down, is ambitious of 
 becoming a setter-up, and a founder of schools and colleges 
 out of the abbey lands, and bishops' rents, and other spoils 
 of Rome, which the nobility of Scotland have won with their 
 sword and bow, and with which he would now endow new 
 hives to sing the old drone/' 
 
 " John is a man of God,'' said the Regent, " and his 
 scheme is a devout imagination." 
 
 The sedate smile with which this was spoken left it impos- 
 sible to conjecture whether the words were meant in appro- 
 bation or in derision of the plan of the Scottish Reformer. 
 Turning then to Roland Graeme, as if he thought he had 
 been long enough a witness of this conversation, he bade 
 him get him presently to horse, since my Lord of Lindesay 
 was already mounted. The page made his reverence, and 
 left the apartment. 
 
 Guided by Michael Wing-the-Wind, he found his horse 
 ready saddled and prepared for the journey in front of the 
 palace porch, where hovered about a score of men-at-arms, 
 whose leader showed no small symptomsof surly impatience. 
 
 " Is this the jackanape page for whom we have waited 
 thus long ? " said he to Wing-the-Wind. '* And my Lord 
 Ruthven will reach the castle long before us ! " 
 
 Michael assented, and added that the boy had been 
 detained by the Regent to receive some parting instructions. 
 The leader made an inarticulate sound in his throat, ex- 
 pressive of sullen acquiescence, and calling to one of his 
 domestic attendants, *' Edward," said he, '* take the gallant 
 into your charge, and let him speak with no one else." 
 
 He then addressed, by the title of Sir Robert, an elderly 
 and respectable-looking gentleman, the only one of the 
 party who seemed above the rank of a retainer or domestic, 
 and observed that they must get to horse with all speed. 
 
 During this discourse, and while they were riding slowly 
 along the street of the suburb, Roland had time to examine 
 more accurately the looks and figure of the baron who was 
 at their head. 
 
 Lord Lindesay of the Byres was rather touched than 
 stricken with years. His upright stature and strong limbs 
 Btill showed him fully equal to all the exertions and latigues 
 
J«02 WAVERLEY J^OVELS 
 
 of war. His thick eyebrows, now partially grizzled, lowered 
 over large eyes full of dark fire, which seemed yet darker 
 from the nncommon depth at which they were set in his 
 head. His features, naturally strong and harsh, had their 
 sternness exaggerated by one or two scars received in battle. 
 These features, naturally calculated to express the harsher 
 passions, were shaded by an open steel cap, with a projecting 
 front, but having no visor, over the gorget of which fell the 
 black and grizzled beard of the grim old baron, and totally 
 hid the lower part of his face. The rest of his dress was a 
 loose buff-coat, which had once been lined with silk and 
 adorned with embroidery, but which seemed much stained 
 with travel and damaged with cuts, received probably in 
 battle. It covered a corslet which had once been of polished 
 steel, fairly gilded, but was now somewhat injured with 
 rust. A sword of antique make and uncommon size, framed 
 to be wieldied with both hands, a kind of weapon which was 
 then beginning to go out of use, hung from his neck in a 
 baldric, and was so disposed as to traverse his whole person, 
 the huge hilt appearing over his left shoulder, and the point 
 reaching well-nigh to the right heel, and jarring against his 
 spur as he walked. This unwieldy weapon could only be 
 unsheathed by pulling the handle over the left shoulder, for 
 no human arm was long enough to draw it in the usual 
 manner. The whole equipment was that of a rude warrior, 
 negligent of his exterior even to misanthropical sullenness ; 
 and the short, harsh, haughty tone which he used towards 
 his attendants belonged to the same unpolished char- 
 acter. 
 
 The personage who rode with Lord Lindesay at the head 
 of the party was an absolute contrast to him in manner, 
 form, and features. His thin and silky hair was already 
 white, though he seemed not above forty-five or fifty years 
 old. His tone of voice was soft and insinuating ; his form 
 thin, spare, and bent by an habitual stoop ; his pale cheek 
 was expressive of shrewdness and intelligence ; his eye was 
 quick though placid, and his whole demeanor mild and con- 
 ciliatory. He rode an ambling nag, such as were used by 
 ladies, clergymen, or others of peaceful professions ; wore a 
 riding habit of black velvet, with a cap and feather of the 
 same hue, fastened up by a golden medal ; and for show, and 
 as a mark of rank rather than for use, carried a walking 
 sword (as the short light rapiers were called), without any 
 other arms, offensive or defensive. 
 
 The party had now quitted the town, and proceeded, at 
 
THE ABBOT 203 
 
 a steady trot, towards the west. As they prosecuted their 
 journey, Roland Graeme would gladly have learned some- 
 tliing of its purpose and tendency, but the countenance of the 
 personage next to whom he had been placed in the train dis- 
 couraged all approach to familiarity. The baron himself did 
 not look more grim and inaccessible than his feudal retainer, 
 whose grisly beard fell over his mouth like the portcullis be- 
 fore the gate of the castle, as if for the purpose of prevent- 
 ing the escape of any word of which absolute necessity did 
 not demand the utterance. The rest of the train seemed 
 under the same taciturn influence, and journeyed on with- 
 out a word being exchanged amongst them, more like a troop 
 of Carthusian friars than a party of military retainers. Ro- 
 land Graeme was surprised at this extremity of discipline ; 
 for even in the household of the Knight of Avenel, though 
 somewhat distinguished for the accuracy with which decorum 
 was enforced, a journey was a period of license, during 
 which jest and song, and everything within the limits of be- 
 coming mirth and pastime, was freely permitted. This un- 
 usual silence was, however, so far acceptable that it gave 
 him time to bring any shadow of judgment which he pos- 
 sessed to council on his own situation and prospects, which 
 would have appeared to any reasonable person in the highest 
 degree dangerous and perplexing. 
 
 It was quite evident that he had, through various circum- 
 stances not under his own control, formed contradictory 
 connections with both the contending factions by whose strife 
 the kingdom was distracted, without being properly an ad- 
 herent of either. It seemed also clear that the same situa- 
 tion in the household of the deposed Queen, to which he was 
 now promoted by the influence of the Regent, had been 
 destined to him by his enthusiastic grandmother, Magdalen 
 Graeme ; for on this subject the words which Morton had 
 dropped had been a ray of light ; yet it was no less clear 
 that these two persons, the one the declared enemy, the 
 other the enthusiastic votary, of the Catholic religion ; the 
 one at the head of the King's new government, the other, 
 who regarded that government as a criminal usurpation, 
 must have required and expected very different services from 
 the individual whom they had thus united in recommending. 
 It required very little reflection to foresee that these contra- 
 dictory claims on his service might speedily place him in a 
 situation where his honor as well as his life might be endan- 
 gered. ^ But it was not in Roland Graeme's nature to antici- 
 pate evil before it came, or to prepare to combat difficulties be^ 
 
£04 WAVERLEY NOVELS, 
 
 fore they arrived. '* I will see this beautiful and unfortunate 
 Mary Stuart/' he said, *' of whom we have heard so much, 
 and then there will be time enough to determine whether 1 
 will be kingsman or queensman. None of them can say I 
 have given word or promise to either of their factions ; for 
 they have led me up and down like a blind Billy, without 
 giving me any light into what I was to do. But it was lucky 
 that grim Douglas came into the Regent's closet this morn- 
 ing, otherwise I had never got free of him without plighting 
 my troth to do all the Earl would have me, which seemed, 
 after all, but foul play to the poor imprisoned lady, to place 
 her page as an espial on her.'* 
 
 Skipping thus lightly over a matter of such consequence, 
 the thoughts of the hare-brained boy went a-wool-gathering' 
 after more agreeable topics. Now he admired the Gothic 
 towers of Barnbougle, rising from the sea-beaten rock, and 
 overlooking one of the most glorious landscapes in Scotland ; 
 and now he began to consider what notable sport for the 
 hounds and the hawks must be afforded by the variegated 
 ground over which they travelled ; and now he compared 
 the steady and dull trot at which they were then prosecuting 
 their journey with the delight of sweeping over hill and dale 
 in pursuit of his favorite sports. As, under the influence 
 of these joyous recollections, he gave his horse the spur, and 
 made him execute a gambade, he instantly incurred the cen- 
 sure of his grave neighbor, who hinted to him to keep the 
 pace, and move quietly and in order, unless he wished such 
 notice to be taken of his eccentric movements as was likely 
 to be very displeasing to him. 
 
 The rebuke and the restraint under which the youth now, 
 found himself brought back to his recollection his late good- 
 humored and accommodating associate and guide, Adam 
 Woodcock; and from that topic his imagination made a 
 short flight to Avenel Castle, to the quiet and unconfined 
 life of its inhabitants, the goodness of his early protectress, not 
 forgetting the denizens of its stables, kennels, and hawk- 
 mews. In a brief space, all these subjects of meditation 
 gave way to the remembrance of that riddle of womankind, 
 Catherine Seyton, who appeared before the eye of his mind 
 now in her female form, now in her male attire, now in both 
 at once, like some strange dream, which presents to us the 
 lame individual under two different characters at the same 
 instant. Her mysterious present also recurred to his recol- 
 lection — the sword which he now w^ore at his side, and which 
 h^ WW not to draw, save by command of his legitimate 
 
THE ABBOT 205 
 
 Bovereign ! But the key of this mystery he judged he was 
 likely to find in the issue of his present journey. 
 
 With such thoughts passing through his mind, Roland 
 Graeme accompanied the party of Lord Lindesay to the 
 Queen's Ferry, which they passed in vessels that lay in readi- 
 ness for them. They encountered no adventure whatever in 
 their passage, excepting one horse being lamed in getting 
 into the boat — an incident very common on such occasions, 
 until a few years ago, when the ferry was completely regu- 
 lated. What was more peculiarly characteristic of the olden 
 age was the discharge of a culverin at the party from the 
 battlements of the old castle of Rosy the, on the north side 
 of the ferry, the lord of which happened to have some public 
 or private quarrel with the Lord Lindesay, and took this 
 mode of expressing his resentment. The insult, however, 
 as it was harmless, remained unnoticed and unavenged, nor 
 did anything else occur worth notice until the band had 
 come where Lochleven spread its magnificent sheet of waters 
 to the beams of a bright summer sun. 
 
 The ancient castle, which occupies an island nearly in the 
 center of the lake, recalled to the page that of Avenel, in 
 which he had been nurtured. But the lake was much 
 larger, and adorned with several islets besides that on which 
 the fortress was situated ; and instead of being embosomed 
 in hills like that of Avenel, had upon the southern side only 
 a splendid mountainous screen, being the descent of one of 
 the Lomond hills and on the other was surrounded by the 
 extensive and fertile plain of Kinross. Roland Graeme looked 
 with some degree of dismay on the water-girdled fortress, 
 which then, as now, consisted only of one large donjon-keep, 
 surrounded with a courtyard, with two round flanking 
 towers at the angles, which contained within its circuit 
 some other buildings of inferior importance. A few old 
 trees, clustered together near the castle, gave some relief to 
 the air of desolate seclusion ; but yet the page, while he 
 gazed upon a building so sequestrated, could not but feel 
 for the situation of a captive princess doomed to dwell 
 there, as well as for his own. '*I must have been born," 
 he thought, ''under the star that presides over ladies and 
 lakes of water, for I cannot by any means escape from the 
 service of the one or from dwelling in the other. But if 
 they allow me not the fair freedom of my sport and exercise, 
 they shall find it as hard to confine a wild drake as a youth 
 who can swim like one/* 
 
 The band had now reached the edge of the water, and one 
 
2m WAVERLUr notEL^ 
 
 of the party advancing displayed Lord Lindesay''s pennon, 
 waving it repeatedly to and fro, while that baron himself 
 blew a clamorous blast on his bugle. A banner was presently 
 displayed from the roof of the castle in reply to these signals, 
 and one or two figures were seen busied as if unmooring a 
 boat which lay close to the islet. 
 
 *' It will be some time ere they can reach us with the boat/' 
 said the companion of the Lord Lindesay ; *' should we not 
 do well to proceed to the town, and array ourselves in some 
 better order, ere we appear before " 
 
 '* You may do as you list. Sir Eobert,*' replied Lindesay, 
 " I have neither time nor temper to waste on such vanities. 
 She has cost me many a hard ride, and must not now take 
 ofiense at the threadbare cloak and soiled doublet that 
 I am arrayed in. It is the livery to which she has brought 
 all Scotland.^' 
 
 '* Do not speak so harshly,'* said Sir Robert ; *^ if she hath 
 done wrong, she hath dearly abeyed it ; and in losing all real 
 power, one would not deprive her of the little external homage 
 due at once to a lady and a princess.'' 
 
 " I say to you once more, Sir Robert Melville," replied 
 Lindesay, '^ do as you will ; for me, I am now too old to 
 dink myself as a gallant to grace the bower of dames." 
 
 *' The bower of dames, my lord I" said Melville, looking 
 at the rude old tower : " is it yon dark and grated castle, the 
 prison of a captive queen, to which you give so gay a name ?" 
 
 " Name it as you list," replied Lindesay ; " had the Regent 
 desired to send an envoy capable to speak to a captive queen, 
 there are many gallants in his court who would have courted 
 the occasion to make speeches out of Amadis of Gaul or the 
 Mirror of Knighthood, But when he sent blunt old Linde- 
 say, he knew he would speak to a misguided woman, as her 
 former misdoings and her present state render necessary. I 
 sought not this employment : it has been thrust upon me ; 
 and I will not cumber myself with more form in the discharge 
 of it than needs must be tacked to such an occupation." 
 
 So saying. Lord Lindesay threw himself from horseback, 
 and, wrapping his riding-cloak around him, lay down at lazy 
 length upon the sward, to await the arrival of the boat, which 
 was now seen rowing from the castle towards the shore. Sir 
 Robert Melville, who had also dismounted, walked at short 
 turns to and fro upon the bank, his arms crossed on his 
 breast, often looking to the castle, and displaying in his 
 countenance a mixture of sorrow and of anxiety. The rest 
 of the party sate like statues on horseback, without moving 
 
THE ABBOT S07 
 
 so much as the points of their lances, which they held 
 upright in the air. 
 
 As soon as the boat approached a rude quay or landing- 
 place near to which they had stationed themselves, Lord 
 Lindesay started up from his recumbent posture, and asked 
 the person who steered why he had not brought a larger boat 
 with him to transport his retinue. 
 
 " So please you," replied the boatman, "because it is the 
 order of our lady that we bring not to the castle more than 
 four persons.'' 
 
 *'' Thy lady is a wise woman/' said Lindesay, ''to suspect 
 me of treachery ! Or, had I intended it, what is to hinder us 
 from throwing you and your comrades into the lake and filling 
 the boat with my own fellows ? " 
 
 The steersman, on hearing this, made a hasty signal to his 
 men to back their oars, and hold off from the shore which 
 they were approaching. 
 
 *' Why, thou ass," said Lindesay, " thou didst not think 
 that I meant thy fool's head serious harm ? Hark thee, 
 friend, with fewer than three servants I will go no whither ; 
 Sir Robert Melville will require at least the attendance of 
 one domestic ; and it will be at your peril and your lady's to 
 refuse us admission, come hither as we are on matters of 
 great national concern." 
 
 The steersman answered with firmness, but with great 
 civility of expression, that his orders were positive to bring 
 no more than four into the island, but he offered to row back 
 to obtain a revisal of his instructions. 
 
 " Do so, my friend," said Sir Robert Melville, after he had 
 in vain endeavored to persuade his stubborn companion to 
 consent to a temporary abatement of his train : **row back 
 to the castle, sith it will be no better, and obtain thy lady's 
 orders to transport the Lord Lindesay, myself, and our retinue 
 thither." 
 
 '* And hearken," said Lord Lindesay, " take with you this 
 page, who comes as an attendant on your lady's guest. Dis- 
 mount, sirrah," said he, addressing Roland, " and embark 
 with them in that boat." 
 
 " And what is to become of my horse ?" said Graeme ; '* I 
 am answerable for him to my master." 
 
 ^' I will relieve you of the, charge," said Lindesay ; '' thou 
 wilt have little enow to do with horse, saddle, or bridle for 
 ten years to come. Thou mayst take the halter an thou wilt : 
 it may stand thee in a turn." 
 
 •' If I thought so," said Roland 
 
208 WAVERLET NOVELS 
 
 But he was interrupted by Sir Robert Melville, who said 
 to him, good-humor edly, '' Dispute it not, young friend : 
 resistance can do no good, but may well run thee into 
 danger/' 
 
 Roland Graeme felt the justice of what he said, and, though 
 neither delighted with the matter nor manner of Lindesay's 
 address, deemed it best to submit to necessity, and to embark 
 without further remonstrance. The men plied their oars. 
 The quay, with the party of horse stationed near it, receded 
 from the page's eyes, the castle and the islet seemed to draw 
 near in the same proportion, and in a brief space he landed 
 under the shadow of a huge old tree which overhung the 
 landing-place. The steersman and Graeme leaped ashore ; 
 the boatmen remained lying on their oars ready for further 
 service. 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 
 Could valor aught avail or people's love, 
 France had not wept Navarre's brave Henry slain ; 
 
 If wit or beauty could compassion move, 
 The Rose of Scotland had not wept in vain. 
 
 Lewis, Elegy in a Royal Mausoleum, 
 
 At the gate of the courtyard of Lochleven appeared the 
 stately form of the Lady of Lochleven, a female whose early 
 charms had captivated James V., by whom she became 
 mother of the celebrated Regent Murray. As she was of 
 noble birth, being a daughter of the house of Mar, and of 
 great beauty, her intimacy with James did not prevent her 
 being afterwards sought in honorable marriage by many gal- 
 lants of the time, among whom she had preferred Sir William 
 Douglas of Lochleven. But well has it been said, — 
 
 Our pleasant vices 
 Are made the whips to scourge us. 
 
 The station which the Lady of Lochleven now held as the 
 wife of a man of high rank and interest, and the mother of 
 a lawful family, did not prevent her nourishing a painful sense 
 of degradation, even w^hile she was proud of the talents, the 
 power, and the station of her son, now prime ruler of the 
 state, but still a pledge of her illicit intercourse. " Had 
 James done to her,^* she said in her secret heart, ^' the justice 
 he owed her, she had seen in her son, as a source of unmixed 
 delight and of unchastened pride, the lawful monarch of 
 Scotland, and one of the ablest who ever swayed the scepter. 
 The house of Mar, not inferior in antiquity or grandeur to 
 that of Drummond, would then have also boasted a queen 
 among its daughters, and escaped the stain attached to female 
 frailty, even when it has a royal lover for its apology/* 
 While such feelings preyed on a bosom naturally proud and 
 severe, they had a corresponding effect on her countenance, 
 where with the remains of great beauty, were mingled traits 
 indicative of inward discontent and peevish melancholy. It 
 perhaps contributed to increase this habitual temperament, 
 that the Lady Lochleven had adopted uncommonly rigid and 
 severe views of religion, imitating in her ideas of Reformed 
 14 209 
 
210 WAYERLEY NOVELS 
 
 faith the very worst errors of the Catholics, in limiting the 
 benefit of the Gospel to those who profess their own specula- 
 tive tenets. 
 
 In every respect, the unfortunate Queen Mary, now the 
 compulsory guest, or rather prisoner, of this sullen lady, 
 was obnoxious to her hostess. Lady Lochleven disliked her 
 as the daughter of Mary of Guise, the legal possessor of those 
 rights over James's heart and hand of which she conceived 
 herself to have been injuriously deprived ; and yet more so 
 as the professor of a religion which she detested worse than 
 paganism. 
 
 Such was the dame who, with stately mien, and sharp yet 
 handsome features, shrouded by her black velvet coif, inter- 
 rogated the domestic who steered her barge to the shore, 
 what had become of Lindesay and Sir Eobert Melville. The 
 man related what had passed, and she smiled scornfully as 
 she replied, '' Fools must be flattered, not foughten with 
 Row back — make thy excuse as thou canst — say Lord Ruthven 
 hath already reached this castle, and that he is impatient 
 for Lord Lindesay^s presence. Away with thee, Randal — 
 yet stay, what galopin is that thou hast brought hither ?'' 
 
 " So please you, my lady, he is the page who is to wait 
 upon " 
 
 '^ Ay, the new male minion,'' said the Lady Lochleven ; 
 "the female attendant arrived yesterday. I shall have a 
 well-ordered house with this lady and her retinue ; but I 
 trust they will soon find some others to undertake such a 
 charge. Begone, Randal ; and you (to Roland Graeme), 
 follow me to the garden.'' 
 
 She led the way with a slow and stately step to the small 
 garden, which, inclosed by a stone wall ornamented with 
 statues, and an artificial fountain in the center, extented its 
 dull parterres on the side of the courtyard, with which it 
 communicated by a low and arched portal. Within the nar- 
 row circuit of its formal and limited walks, Mary Stuart was 
 now learning to perform the weary part of a prisoner, which, 
 with little interval, she was doomed to sustain during the 
 remainder of her life. She was followed in her slow and 
 melancholy exercise by two female attendants ; but in tho 
 first glance which Roland Graeme bestowed upon one so 
 illustrious by birth, so distinguished by her beauty, accom- 
 plishments, and misfortunes, he was sensible of the presence 
 of no other than the unhappy Queen of Scotland. 
 
 Her face, her form, have been so deeply impressed upon 
 the imagination that, even at the distance of nearly three 
 
THE ABBOT 211 
 
 eentttff^g, it is unnecessary to remind the most ignorant and 
 uninformed reader of the striking traits which characterize 
 that remarkable countenance, which seems at once to com- 
 bine our idea of the majestic, the pleasing, and the bril- 
 liant, leaving us to doubt whether they express most happily 
 the queen, the beauty, or the accomplished woman. Who 
 is there that, at the very mention of Mary Stuart's name, has 
 not her countenance before him, familiar as that of the mis- 
 tress of his youth, or the favorite daughter of his advanced 
 age ? Even those who feel themselves compelled to believe 
 all, or much, of what her enemies laid to her charge, cannot 
 think without a sigh upon a countenance expressive of any- 
 thing rather than the foul crimes with which she was charged 
 when living, and which still continue to shade, if not to 
 blacken, her memory. That brow, so truly open and regal ; 
 those eyebrows, so regularly graceful, which yet were saved 
 from the charge of regular insipidity by the beautiful effect 
 of the hazel eyes which they overarched, and which seem to 
 utter a thousand histories ; the nose, with all its Grecian 
 precision of outline ; the mouth, so well-proportioned, so 
 sweetly formed as if designed to speak nothing but what was 
 delightful to hear ; the dimpled chin ; the stately, swan-like 
 neck — form a countenance the like of which we know not to 
 have existed in any other character moving in that high 
 class of life where the actresses as well as the actors com- 
 mand general and undivided attention. It is in vain to say 
 that the portraits which exist of this remarkable woman are 
 not like each other ; for, amidst their discrepancy, each 
 possesses general features which the eye at once acknowledges 
 as peculiar to the vision which our imagination has raised 
 while we read her history for the first time, and which has 
 been impressed upon it by the numerous prints and pictures 
 which we have seen. Indeed, we cannot look on the worst 
 of them, however deficient in point of execution, without 
 saying that it is meant for Queen Mary ; and no small in- 
 stance it is of the power of beauty, that her charms should 
 have remained the subject not merely of admiration, but of 
 warm and chivalrous interest, after the lapse of such a length 
 of time. We know that by far the most acute of those who, 
 in latter days, have adopted the unfavorable view of Mary's 
 character, longed, like the executioner before his dreadful 
 task was performed, to kiss the fair hand of her on whom 
 he was about to perform so horrible a duty. 
 
 Dressed, then, in a deep mourning robe, and with all those 
 charms of face, shape, and manner with which faithful 
 
212 WA VERLEY NOVELS 
 
 tradition has made each reader familiar, Mary Stewart ad- 
 vanced to meet the Lady of Lochleven, who, on her part, 
 endeavored to conceal dislike and apprehension under the 
 appearance of respectful indifference. The truth was, that 
 she had experienced repeatedly the Queen's superiority in 
 that species of disguised yet cutting sarcasm with which 
 women can successfully avenge themselves for real and sub- 
 stantial injuries. It may be well doubted whether this 
 talent was not as fatal to its possessor as the many others 
 enjoyed by that highly gifted, but most unhappy, female ; 
 for, while it often afforded her a momentary triumph over 
 her keepers, it failed not to exasperate their resentment ; 
 and the satire and sarcasm in which she had indulged 
 were frequently retaliated by the deep and bitter hardships 
 which they had the power of inflicting. It is well known 
 that her death was at length hastened by a letter which she 
 wrote to Queen Elizabeth, in which she treated her jealous 
 rival and the Countess of Shrewsbury with the keenest irony 
 and ridicule. 
 
 As the ladies met together, the Queen said, bending her 
 head at the same time in return to the obeisance of the 
 Lady Lochleven — "We are this day fortunate: we enjoy 
 the company of our amiable hostess at an unusual hour, 
 and during a period which we have hitherto been permitted 
 to give to our private exercise. But our good hostess 
 knows well she has at all times access to our presence, and 
 need not observe the useless ceremony of requiring our per- 
 mission." 
 
 "I am sorry my presence is deemed an intrusion by your 
 Grace," said the Lady of Lochleven. " I came but to an- 
 nounce the arrival of an addition to your train," motioning 
 with her hand towards Roland Graeme, ''a circumstance to 
 which ladies are seldom indifferent." 
 
 *' ! I crave your ladyship's pardon ; and am bent to 
 the earth with obligations for the kindness of my nobles — or 
 my sovereigns, shall I call them ? — who have permitted me 
 such a respectable addition to my personal retinue." 
 
 "They have indeed studied, madam," said the Lady of 
 Locheven, "to show their kindness toward your Grace some- 
 thing at the risk perhaps of sound policy, and I trust their 
 doings will not be misconstrued." 
 
 " Impossible ! " said the Queen ; '' the bounty which per- 
 mits the daughter of so many kings, and who yet is queen 
 of the realm, the attendance of two waiting-women and a 
 boy, is a grace which Mary Stuart can never sufficiently 
 
THE ABBOT 21S 
 
 acknowledge. Why ! my train will be equal to that of any 
 country dame in this your kingdom of Fife, saving but the 
 lack of a gentleman-usher and a pair or two of blue-coated 
 serving-men. But I must not forget, in my selfish joy, the 
 additional trouble and charges to which this magnificent 
 augumentation of our train will put our kind hostess and 
 the whole house of Lochleven. It is this prudent anxiety, 
 [ am aware, which clouds your brows, my worthy lady. 
 But be of good cheer : the crown of Scotland has many a 
 fair manor, and your affectionate son, and my no less af- 
 fectionate brother, will endow the good knight your hus- 
 band with the best of them, ere Mary should be dismissed 
 from this hospitable castle from your ladyship's lack of 
 means to support the charges." 
 
 '*The Douglasses of Lochleven, madam, '* answered the 
 lady, '^ have known for ages how to discharge their duty to 
 the state, without looking for reward, even when the task 
 was both irksome and dangerous." 
 
 "Nay! but, my dear Lochleven," said the Queen, "you 
 are over-scrupulous ; I pray you accept of a goodly manor ; 
 what should support the Queen of Scotland, in this her princely 
 court, saving her own crown-lands ; and who should minister 
 to the wants of a mother, save an affectionate son like the 
 Earl of Murray, who possesses so wonderfully both the power 
 and inclination ? Or said you it was the danger of the task 
 which clouded your smooth and hospitable brow ? No 
 doubt, a page is a formidable addition to my body-guard of 
 females ; and I bethink me it must have been for that 
 reason that my Lord of Lindesay refused even now to venture 
 within the reach of a force so formidable, without being 
 attended by a competent retinue." 
 
 The Lady Lochleven started, and looked something sur- 
 prised ; and Mary, suddenly changing her manner from the 
 smooth, ironical affectation of mildness to an accent of austere 
 command, and drawing up at the same time her fine person, 
 said, with the full majesty of her rank, " Yes ! Lady of 
 Lochleven, I know that Euthven is already in the castle, 
 and that Lindesay waits on the bank the return of your 
 barge to bring him hither along with Sir Eobert Melville. 
 For what purpose do these nobles come ? and why am I 
 not in ordinary decency apprised of their arrival ? " 
 
 "Their purpose, madam," replied the Lady of Lochleven, 
 " they must themselves explain ; but a formal annunication 
 were needless, where your Grace hath attendants who can 
 play the espial so well,'' 
 
214 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 " Alas ! poor Fleming," said the Queen, turning to the 
 elder of the female attendants, ''thou wilt be tried, con- 
 demned, and gibbeted for a spy in the garrison, because thou 
 didst chance to cross the great hall while my good Lady of 
 Lochleven was parleying at the full pitch of her voice with 
 her pilot Kandal. Put black wool in thy ears, girl, as you 
 value the wearing of them longer. Kemember, in the Castle 
 of Lochleven, ears and tongues are matters not of use, but for 
 show merely. Our good hostess can hear, as well as speak for 
 us all. We excuse your further attendance, my lady hostess," 
 she said, once more addressing the object of her resentment, 
 *' and retire to prepare for an interview with our rebel lords. 
 We will use the ante-chamber of our sleeping apartment as our 
 hall of audience. You, young man," she proceeded, address- 
 ing Roland Graeme, and at once softening the ironical sharp- 
 ness of her manner into good-humored raillery — ** you, who are 
 all our male attendance, from our Lord High Chamberlain 
 down to our least galopin, follow us to prepare our court." 
 
 She turned, and walked slowly towards the castle. The 
 Lady of Lochleven folded her arms, and smiled in bitter 
 resentment, as she watched her retiring steps. 
 
 "Thy whole male attendance !" she muttered, repeating 
 the Queen's last words, ''and well for thee had it been had 
 thy train never been larger ; " then turning to Roland, in 
 whose way she had stood while making this pause, she made 
 room for him to pass, saying at the same time, " Art thou 
 already eavesdropping ? follow thy mistress, minion, and, 
 if thou wilt, tell tier what I have now said." 
 
 Roland Graeme hastened after his royal mistress and her 
 attendants, who had just entered a postern gate communi- 
 cating betwixt the castle and the small garden. They as- 
 cended a winding stair as high as the second story, which 
 was in a great measure occupied by a suite of three rooms, 
 opening into each other, and assigned as the dwelling of the 
 captive princess. The outermost was a small hall or ante- 
 room, within which opened a large parlor, and from that 
 again the Queen's bedroom. Another small apartment, 
 which opened into the same parlor, contained the beds of 
 the gentlewomen in waiting. 
 
 Roland Graeme stopped, as became his station, in the out- 
 ermost of these apartments, there to await such orders as 
 might be communicated to him. From the grated window 
 of the room he saw Lindesay, Melville, and their followers 
 disembark ; and observed that they were met at the castle 
 gate by a third noble, to whom Lindesay exclaimed, in his 
 
THE ABBOT 215 
 
 loud harsh voice, *' My Lord of Ruthven, you hare the start 
 of us!" 
 
 At this instant the page's attention was called to a burst 
 of hysterical sobs from the inner apartment, and to the hur- 
 ried ejaculations of the terrified females, which led him 
 almost instantly to hasten to their assistance. When he 
 entered, he saw that the Queen had thrown herself into the 
 large chair which stood nearest the door, and was sobbing 
 for breath in a strong fit of hysterical affection. The elder 
 female supported her in her arms, while the younger bathed 
 her face with water and with tears alternately. 
 
 *' Hasten, young man ! " said the elder lady, in alarm — 
 '' fly — call in assistance ; she is swooning ! " 
 
 But the Queen ejaculated in a faint and broken voice, 
 '^ Stir not, I charge you ! — call no one to witness ; I am bet- 
 ter — I shall recover instantly." And, indeed, with an effort 
 which seemed like that of one struggling for life, she sate 
 up in her chair and endeavored to resume her composure, 
 while her features yet trembled with the violent emotion of 
 body and mind which she had undergone. '* I am ashamed 
 of my weakness, girls/' she said, taking the hands of her 
 attendants ; " but it is over — and I am Mary Stuart once 
 more. The savage tone of that man's voice — my knowledge 
 of his insolence — the name which he named — the purpose 
 for which they come, may excuse a moment's weakness, and 
 it shall be a moment's only." She snatched from her head 
 the curch, or cap, which had been disordered during her 
 hysterical agony ; shook down the thick clustered tresses 
 of dark brown which had been before veiled under it ; and, 
 drawing her slender fingers across the labyrinth which they 
 formed, she arose from the chair, and stood like the inspired 
 image of a Grecian prophetess, in a mood which partook at 
 once of sorrow and pride, of smiles and of tears. '' We are 
 ill appointed," she said, " to meet our rebel subjects ; but, 
 as far as we may, we will strive to present ourselves as be- 
 comes their queen. Follow me, my maidens," she said ; 
 " what says thy favorite song, my Fleming ? — 
 
 My maids, come to my dressing-bower, 
 
 And deck my nut-brown hair ; 
 Where'er ye laid a plait before, 
 
 Look ye lay ten times mair. 
 
 Alas ! " she added, when she had repeated with a smile 
 these lines of an old ballad, '^ violence has already robbed 
 me of the ordinary decorations of my rank ; and the few 
 
21b WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 that nature gave me have been destroyed by sorrow and by 
 fear/' Yet, while she spoke thus, she again let her slender 
 fingers stray through the wilderness of the beautiful tresses 
 which veiled her kingly neck and swelling bosom, as if, in 
 her agony of mind, she had not altogether lost the conscious- 
 ness of her unrivaled charms. Roland Graeme, on whose 
 youth, inexperience, and ardent sense of what was dignified 
 and lovely, the demeanor of so fair and high-born a lady 
 wrought like the charm of a magician, stood rooted to the 
 spot with surprise and interest, longing to hazard his life in 
 a quarrel so fair as that which Mary Stuart's must needs be. 
 She had been bred in France — she was possessed of the most 
 distinguished beauty — she had reigned a queen, and a Scot- 
 tish queen, to whom knowledge of character was as essential 
 as the use of vital air. In all these capacities Mary was, of 
 all women on the earth, most alert at perceiving and using 
 the advantages which" her charms gave her over almost all 
 who came within the sphere of their influence. She cast on 
 Roland a glance which might have melted a heart of stone. 
 " My poor boy,'' she said, with a feeling partly real, partly 
 politic, *' thou art a stranger to us, sent to this doleful cap- 
 tivity from the society of some tender mother, or sister, or 
 maiden, with whom you had freedom to tread a gay meas- 
 ure round the Maypole. I grieve for you ; but you are the 
 only male in my limited household — wilt thou obey my 
 orders ?" 
 
 *' To the death, madam," said Graeme, in a determined 
 tone. 
 
 "Then keep the door of mine apartment," said the Queen 
 — " keep it till they offer actual violence, or till we shall be 
 fitly arrayed to receive the intrusive visitors." 
 
 '' I vill defend it till they pass over my body," said Roland 
 Graeme, any hesitation which he had felt concerning the 
 line of cond^.ict he ought to pursue being completely swept 
 away by the ii-.i pulse of the moment. 
 
 "Not so, my good youth," answered Mary — "not so, I 
 command thee. If I have one faithful subject beside me, 
 much need, God w^t, I have to care for his safety. Resist 
 them but till they are put to the shame of using actual 
 violence, and then give way, I charge you. Remember my 
 commands." And, With a smile expressive at once of favor 
 and of authority, she turned from him, and, followed by 
 her attendants, entered the bedroom. 
 
 The youngest pauseo for half a second ere she followed 
 her companion, and male a signal to Roland Graeme with 
 
THE ABBOT 217 
 
 her hand. He had been already long aware that this was 
 Catherine Seyton — a circumstance which could not much 
 surprise a youth of quick intellect, who recollected the sort 
 of mysterious discourse which had passed betwixt the two 
 matrons at the deserted nunnery, and on which his meeting 
 with Catherine in this place seemed to cast so much light. 
 Yet, such was the engrossing effect of Mary's presence, that 
 it surmounted for the moment even the feelings of a youth- 
 ful lover ; and it was not until Catherine Seyton had disap- 
 peared that Roland began to consider in what relation they 
 were to stand to each other. *' She held up her hand to me 
 in a commanding manner,'' he thought ; '' perhaps she 
 wanted to confirm my purpose for the execution of the 
 Queen's commands ; for I think she could scarce purpose to 
 scare me with the sort of discipline which she administered 
 to the groom in the frieze jacket and to poor Adam Wood- 
 cock. But we will see to that anon ; meantime, let us do 
 i'ustice to the trust reposed in us by this .unhappy Queen, 
 think my Lord of Murray will himself own that it is the 
 duty of a faithful page to defend his lady against intrusion 
 on her privacy." 
 
 Accordingly, he stepped to the little vestibule, made fast, 
 with lock and bar, the door which opened from thence to the 
 large staircase, and then sat himself down to attend the re- 
 sult. He had not long to wait : a rude and strong hand 
 first essayed to lift the latch, then pushed and shook the 
 door with violence, and, when it resisted his attempt to open 
 it, exclaimed, *' Undo the door there, you within ! " 
 
 '' Why, and at whose command," said the page, " am I to 
 undo the door of the apartments of the Queen of Scotland ?" 
 
 Another vain attempt, which made hinge and bolts jingle, 
 showed that the impatient applicant without would willingly 
 have entered altogether regardless of his challenge ; but at 
 length an answer was returned. 
 
 *^ Undo the door, on your peril : the Lord Lindesay comes 
 to speak with the Lady Mary of Scotland." 
 
 *' The Lord Lindesay, as a Scottish noble," answered the 
 page, " must await his sovereign's leisure." 
 
 An earnest altercation ensued amongst those without, in 
 which Roland distinguished the remarkably harsh voice of 
 Lindesay in reply to Sir Robert Melville, who appeared to 
 have been using some soothing language — '^ No ! no ! no ! 
 I tell thee no ! I will place a petard against the door rather 
 
 I than be baulked by a profligate woman, and bearded by an 
 insolent footboy." 
 
218 WAVERLET NOVELS 
 
 "Yet, at least," said Melville, ''let me try fair means in 
 the first instance. Violence to a lady would stain yonr 
 scutcheon forever. Or await till my Lord Ruthven comes/' 
 
 '' I will await no longer,'-* said Lindesay ; *' it is high time 
 the business were done, and we on our return to the council. 
 But thou mayst try thy fair play, as thou callest it, while I 
 cause my train to prepare the petard. I came hither pro- 
 vided with as good gunpowder as blew up the Kirk of 
 Field/' 
 
 *' For God's sake, be patient," said Melville ; and, ap- 
 proaching the door, he said, as speaking to those within, 
 " Let the Queen know that I, her faithful servant, Robert 
 Melville, do entreat her, for her own sake, and to prevent 
 worse consequences, that she will undo the door, and admit 
 Lord Lindesay, who brings a mission from the council of 
 state." 
 
 **I will do your errand to the Queen," said the page, 
 *'and report to you her answer." 
 
 He went to the door of the bedchamber, and, tapping 
 against it gently, it was opened by the elder lady to whom 
 he communicated his errand, and ret^.rned with directions 
 from the Queen to admit Sir Robert Melville and Lord 
 Lindesay. Roland Graeme returned to the vestibule, and 
 opened the door accordingly, into which the Lord Lindesay 
 strode, with the air of a soldier who has fought his way into 
 a conquered fortress ; while Melville, deeply dejected, fol- 
 lowed him more slowly. 
 
 '^ I draw you to witness and to record," said the page to 
 this last, " that, save for the especial commands of the 
 Queen, I would have made good the entrance, with my best 
 strength and my best blood, against all Scotland." 
 
 ** Be silent, young man," said Melville, in a tone of grave 
 rebuke : *'add not brands to fire ; this is no time to make a 
 flourish of thy boyish chivalry." 
 
 ** She has not appeared even yet," said Lindesay, who 
 had now reached the midst of the parlor or audience-room ; 
 *' how call you this trifling ? " 
 
 ''Patience, my lord," replied Sir Robert, "time presses 
 not ; and Lord Ruthven hath not as yet descended." 
 
 At this moment the door of the inner apartment opened, 
 and Queen Mary presented herself, advancing with an air 
 of peculiar grace and majesty, and seeming totally un- 
 ruffled, either by the visit or by the rude manner in which 
 it had been enforced. Her dress was a robe of black velvet ; 
 a small ruff, open in front, gave a full view of her beauti- 
 
THE ABBOT 219 
 
 fully formed chin and neck, but veiled the bosom. On her 
 head she wore a small cap of lace, and a transparent white 
 veil hung from her shoulders over the long black robe, in 
 large loose folds, so that it could be drawn at pleasure ovei 
 the face and person. She wore a cross of gold around her 
 neck, and had her rosary of gold and ebony hanging from 
 her girdle. She was closely followed by her two ladies, who 
 remained standing behind her during the conference. Even 
 Lord Lindesay, though the rudest noble of that rude age, 
 was surprised into something like respect by the uncon- 
 cerned and majestic mien of her whom he had expected to 
 find frantic with impotent passion, or dissolved in useless 
 and vain sorrow, or overwhelmed with the fears likely in 
 such a situation to assail fallen royalty. 
 
 " We fear we have detained you, my Lord of Lindesay," 
 said the Queen, while she courtesied with dignity in answer 
 to his reluctant obeisance ; '* but a female does not will- 
 ingly receive her visitors without some minutes spent at the 
 toilet. Men, my lord, are less dependent on such cere- 
 monies." 
 
 Lord Lindesay, casting his eye down on his own travel- 
 stained and disordered dress, muttered something of a hasty 
 journey, and the Queen paid her greeting to Sir Robert Mel- 
 ville with courtesy, and even, as it seemed, with kindness. 
 There was then a dead pause, during which Lindesay looked 
 towards the door, as if expecting with impatience the col- 
 league of their embassy. The Queen alone was entirely un- 
 embarrassed, and, as if to break the silence, she addressed 
 Lord Lindesay, with a glance at the large and cumbrous 
 sword which he wore, as already mentioned, hanging from 
 his neck. 
 
 " You have there a trusty and a weighty traveling com- 
 panion, my lord. I trust you expected to meet with no 
 enemy here, against whom such a formidable weapon could 
 be necessary ? It is, methinks, somewhat a singular orna- 
 ment for a court, though I am, as I was need to be, too 
 much of a Stuart to fear a sword." 
 
 '* It is not the first time, madam," replied Lindesay, 
 bringing around the weapon so as to rest its point on the 
 ground, and leaning one hand on the huge cross-handle— 
 '*it is not the first time that this weapon has intruded it- 
 self into the presence of the house of Stuart." 
 
 '' Possibly, my lord," replied the Queen, " it may have 
 done service to my ancestors. Your ancestors were men oi 
 loyalty.*' 
 
220 WA VERLEY NO VEL3 
 
 "Ay, madam/' replied lie, ''service it hath done; but 
 such as kings love neither to acknowledge nor to reward. 
 It was the service which the knife renders to the tree when 
 trimming it to the quick, and depriving it of the superfluous 
 growth of rank and unfruitful suckers, which rob it of 
 nourishment/' 
 
 "■ You talk riddles, my lord," said Mary; " I will hope 
 the explanation carries nothing insulting with it." 
 
 " You shall judge, madam," answered Lindesay. " With 
 this good sword was Archibald Douglas, Earl of Angus, 
 girded on the memorable day when he acquired the name of 
 Bell-the-Oat, for dragging from the presence of your great- 
 grandfather, the third James of the race, a crew of minions, 
 flatterers, and favorites, whom he hanged over the bridge 
 of Lauder, as a warning to such reptiles how they approach 
 a Scottish throne. With this same weapon, the same in- 
 flexible champion of Scottish honor and nobility slew at one 
 blow Spens of Kilspindie, a courtier of vour grandfather, 
 James the Fourth, who had dared to speak lightlv of him in 
 the royal presence. They fought near the brook of Fala ; 
 and Bell-the-Oat, with this blade, sheared through the thigh 
 of his opponent, and lopped the limb as easily as a shepherd's 
 boy slices a twig from a sapling." 
 
 '* My lord," replied the Queen, reddening, **my nerves 
 are too good to be alarmed even by this terrible history. 
 May I ask how a blade so illustrious passed from the house 
 of Douglas to that of Lindesay ? Methinks it should have 
 been preserved as a consecrated relic by a family who have 
 held all that tliey could do against their king to be done in 
 favor of their country." 
 
 *' Nay, madam," said Melville, anxiously interfering, 
 " ask not that question of Lord Lindesay. And you, my 
 lord, for shanie — for decency, forbear to reply to it." 
 
 " It is time that this lady should hear the truth," replied 
 Lindesay. 
 
 ''And be assured," said the Queen, *' that she will be 
 moved to anger by none that you can tell her, my lord. 
 There are cases in which just scorn has always the mastery 
 over just anger." 
 
 "Then know," said Lindesay, **that upon the field of 
 Carberry Hill, when that false and infamous traitor and 
 murderer, James, sometime Earl of Both well, and nick- 
 named Duke of Orkney, offered to do personal battle with 
 any of the associated nobles who came to drag him to jus- 
 tice^ I acoepted his challenge^ and was by the noble Earl ol 
 
TEE ABBOT 
 
 221 
 
 Morton gifted with his good sword that I might therewith 
 fight it out. Ah I so help me Heaven, had his presumption 
 been one grain more, or his cowardice one grain less, I should 
 have done such work with this good steel on his traitorous 
 corpse that the hounds and carrion-crows should have found 
 their morsels daintily carved to their use !" 
 
 The Queen's courage wellnigh gave way at the mention of 
 BothwelFs name — a name connected with such a train of 
 guilt, shame, and disaster. But the prolonged boast of 
 Lindesay gave her time to rally herself, and to answer with 
 an appearance of cold contempt — " It is easy to slay an 
 enemy who enters not the lists. But had Mary Stuart in- 
 herited her father's sword as well as his scepter, the boldest 
 Df her rebels should not upon that day have complained that 
 they had no one to cope withal. Your lordship will forgive 
 me if I abridge this conference. A brief description of a 
 bloody fight is long enough to satisfy a lady's curiosity ; and 
 unless my Lord of Lindesay has something more important 
 to tell us than of the deeds which old Bell-the-Cat achieved, 
 and how he would himself have emulated them, had time 
 and tide permitted, we will retire to our private apartment ; 
 and you, Fleming, shall finish reading to us yonder little 
 treatise i>e5 Rodomontades Espagnolles." 
 
 ^' Tarry, madam,'' said Lindesay, his complexion redden- 
 ing in his turn ; ^' I know your quick wit too well of old to 
 have sought an interview that you might sharpen its edge at 
 the expense of my honor. Lord Ruthven and myself, with 
 Sir Robert Melville as a concurrent, come to your Grace on 
 the part of the secret council, to tender to you what much 
 concerns the safety of your own life and the welfare of the 
 state." 
 
 *' The secret council ! " said the Queen. " By what 
 powers can it subsist or act, while I, from whom it holds its 
 character, am here detained under unjust restraint ? But 
 it matters not : what concerns the welfare of Scotland shall 
 be acceptable to Mary Stuart, come from whatever quarter 
 it will ; and for what concerns her own life, she has lived 
 long enough to be weary of it, even at the age of twenty- 
 five. Where is your colleague, my lord ; why tarries he ? " 
 
 *' He comes, madam," said Melville, and Lord Ruthven 
 entered at the instant, holding in his hand a packet. As 
 the Queen returned his salutation, she became deadly pale, 
 bnt instantly recovered herself by dint of strong and sudden 
 resolution, just as the noble, whose appearance seemed to 
 excite such emotions in her bosom, entered the apartment 
 
222 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 in company with George Douglas, the youngest son of the 
 Knight of Lochleven, who, during the absence of his father 
 and brethren, acted as seneschal of the castle, under the 
 direction of the elder Lady Lochleyen^ his father's mother. 
 
CHAPTER XXn 
 
 I give this heavy weight from off my head. 
 And this unwieldy scepter from my hand ; 
 With mine own tears I wash away my balm. 
 With m^ own hand I give away my crown, 
 With mine own tongue deny my sacred state, 
 With mine own breath release all duteous oaths. 
 
 Richard H, 
 
 Lord Ruthven" had the look and bearing which became a 
 soldier and a statesman, and the martial cast of his form and 
 features procured him the popular epithet of Greystil, by 
 which he was distinguished by his intimates, after the hero 
 of a metrical romance then generally known. His dress, 
 which was a buff coat embroidered, had a half-military char- 
 acter, but exhibited nothing of the sordid negligence which 
 distinguished that of Lindesay. But the son of an ill-fated 
 sire, and the father of a yet more unfortunate family, bore 
 in his look that cast of inauspicious melancholy by which the 
 physiognomists of that time pretended to distinguish those 
 who were predestined to a violent and unhappy death. 
 
 The terror which the presence of this nobleman impressed 
 on the Queen's mind arose from the active share he had borne 
 in the slaughter of David Rizzio ; his father having presided 
 at the perpetration of that abominable crime, although so 
 weak from long and wasting illness that he could not endure 
 the weight of his armor, having arisen from a sick-bed to 
 commit a murder in the presence of his sovereign. On that 
 occasion his son also had attended and taken an active part. 
 It was little to be wondered at that the Queen, considering 
 her condition when such a deed of horror was acted in her 
 presence, should retain an instinctive terror for the principal 
 actors in the murder. She returned, however, with grace 
 the salutation of Lord Ruthven, and extended her hand to 
 George Douglas, who kneeled and kissed it with respect — 
 the first mark of a subject's homage which Roland Graeme 
 had seen any of them render to the captive sovereig^n. She 
 returned his greeting in silence, and there was a brief pause, 
 during which the steward of the castle, a man of a sad brow 
 and a severe eye, placed, under George Douglas's directions. 
 
224 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 a table and writing materials ; and the page, obedient to 
 his mistress's dumb signal, advanced a large chair to the 
 fiide on which the Queen stood, the table thus forming a 
 sort of bar which divided the Queen and her personal fol- 
 lowers from her unwelcome visitors. The steward then with- 
 drew, after a low reverence. When he had closed the door 
 behind him, the Queen broke silence. " With favor, my 
 lords, I will sit ; my walks are not indeed extensive enough 
 at present to fatigue me greatly, yet I find repose something 
 more necessary than usual.'' 
 
 She sat down accordingly, and, shading her cheek with 
 her beautiful hand, looked keenly and impressively at each of 
 the nobles in turn. Mary Fleming applied her kerchief to 
 her eyes, and Catherine Sey ton and Roland Graeme exchanged 
 a glance, which showed that both were too deeply engrossed 
 with sentiments of interest and commiseration for their 
 royal mistress to think of anything which regarded them- 
 selves. 
 
 '' I wait the purpose of your mission, my lords," said the 
 Queen, after she had been seated for about a minute with- 
 out a word being spoken — '^ I wait your message from those 
 you call the secret council. I trust it is a petition of par- 
 don, and a desire that I will resume my rightful throne, 
 without using with due severity my right of punishing those 
 who have dispossessed me of it ? '* 
 
 *' Madam,'' replied Ruthven, " it is painful for us to speak 
 harsh truths to a princess who has long ruled us. But we 
 come to offer, not to implore, pardon. In a word, madam, 
 we have to propose to you, on the part of the secret council, 
 that you sign these deeds, which will contribute greatly to 
 the pacification of the state, the advancement of God's AVord, 
 and the welfare of your own future life." 
 
 ^' Am I expected to take these fair words on trust, my 
 lord ? or may I hear the contents of these reconciling papers 
 ere I am asked to sign them ? " 
 
 " Unquestionably, madam ; it is our purpose and wish 
 you should read what you are required to sign," replied 
 Ruthven. 
 
 ''Required?" replied the Queen, with some emphasis, 
 "but the phrase suits well the matter. Read, my lord." 
 
 The Lord Ruthven proceeded to read a formal instru- 
 ment running in the Queen's name, and setting forth that 
 she had been called, at an early age, to the administration 
 of the crown and realm of Scotland, and had toiled diligently 
 therein, until she was in body and spirit so Trearied out and 
 
THE ABBOT 225 
 
 disgusted that she was unable any longer to endure the trav- 
 ail and pain of state affairs ; and that, since God had 
 blessed her with a fair and hopeful son, she was desirous to 
 ensure to him, even while she yet lived, his succession to the 
 crown, which was his by right of hereditary descent. 
 '^ Wherefore,'' the instrument proceeded, ''we, of the 
 motherly affection we bear to our said son, have renounced 
 and demitted, and, by these our letters of free good-will, re- 
 nounce and demit, the crown, government, and guiding of 
 the realm of Scotland, in favor of our said son, that he may 
 succeed to us as native prince thereof, as much as if we had 
 been removed by disease, and not by our own proper act. 
 And that this dismission of our royal authority may have the 
 more full and solemn effect, and none pretend ignorance, 
 we give, grant, and commit full and free and plain power to 
 our trusty cousins. Lord Lindesay of the Byres and William 
 Lord Ruthven, to appear in our name before as many of the 
 nobility, clergy, and burgesses as may be assembled at Stirl- 
 ing, and there, in our name and behalf, publicly, and in 
 their presence, to renounce the crown, guidance, and govern- 
 ment of this our kingdom of Scotland.'' 
 
 The Queen here broke in with an air of extreme surprise. 
 
 *' How is this, my lords ? '' she said; *' Are my ears 
 turned rebels, that they deceive me with sounds so extra- 
 ordinary ? And yet it is no wonder that, having conversed 
 so long with rebelion, they should now force its language 
 upon my understanding. Say I am mistaken, my lords 
 — say, for the honor of yourselves and the Scottish nobility, 
 that my right trusty cousins of Lindesay and Euthven, two 
 barons of warlike fame and ancient line, have not sought the 
 prison-house of their kind mistress for such a purpose as 
 these words seem to imply. Say, for the sake of honor and 
 loyalty, that my ears have deceived me." 
 
 ''No, madam," said Ruthven, gravely, "your ears do not 
 deceive you ; they deceived you when they were closed 
 against the preachers of the Evangel, and the honest advice 
 of your faithful subjects ; and when they were ever open to 
 flattery of pickthanks and traitors, foreign cubiculars and 
 domestic minions. The land may no longer brook the rule 
 of one who cannot rule herself ; wherefore I pray you to 
 comply with the last remaining wish of your subjects and 
 counselors, and spare yourself and us the further agitation 
 of matters so painful." 
 
 "And is this all my loving subjects require of me, my 
 lord?" said Mary, in a tone of bitter irony. "Do thej? 
 15 
 
f 26 M A VERLEY iVO VELS 
 
 really stint themselves to the easy boon that I should yield 
 up the crown, which is mine by birthright, to an infant 
 which is scarcely more than a year old ; fling down my 
 scepter, and take up a distaff ? no ! it is too little for 
 them to ask. That other roll of parchment contains some- 
 thing harder to be compiled with, and which may more 
 highly tax my readiness to comply with the petitions of my 
 lieges." 
 
 *' This parchment,^' answered Ruthven, in the same tone 
 of inflexible gravity, and unfolding the instrument as hr 
 spoke, **is one by which your Grace constitutes your nearest 
 in blood, and the most honorable and trustworthy of your 
 subjects, James Earl of Murray, regent of the kingdom dur- 
 ing the minority of the young King. He already holds the 
 appointment from the secret council.'^ 
 
 The Queen gave a sort of shriek, and clapping her hands 
 together, exclaimed, ** Comes the arrow out of his quiver ? 
 — out of my brother's bow ? Alas ! I looked for his return 
 from France as my sole, at least my readiest, chance of de- 
 liverance. And yet, when I heard that he had assumed the 
 government, I guessed he would shame to wield it in my 
 name." 
 
 " I must pray your answer, madam," said Lord Ruthven, 
 "to the demand of the council." 
 
 *' The demand of the council!" said the Queen ; ''say 
 rather the demand of a set of robbers, impatient to divide 
 the spoil they have seized. To such a demand, and sent by 
 the mouth of a traitor, whose scalp, but for my womanish 
 mercy, should long since have stood on the city gates, Mary 
 of Scotland has no answer." 
 
 ''I trust, madam," said Lord Ruthven, *'my being unac- 
 ceptable to your presence will not add to your obduracy of 
 resolution. It may become you to remember that th« death 
 of the minion, Rizzio, cost the house of Ruthven its head 
 and leader. My father, more worthy than a whole province 
 of such vile sycophants, died in exile, and broken-hearted.'' 
 
 The Queen clasped her hands on her face, and, resting her 
 arms on the table, stooped down her head and wept so 
 bitterly that the tears were seen to find their way in streams 
 between the white and slender fingers with which she en- 
 deavored to conceal them. 
 
 " My lords," said Sir Robert Melville, '* this is too much 
 rigor. Under yonr lordships' favor, we came hither, not 
 to revive old griefs, but to find the mode of avoiding new 
 
I 
 
 THE ABBOT 227 
 
 " Sir Robert Melville/* said Euthven, " we best know for 
 what purpose we were delegated hither, and wherefore you 
 were somewhat unnecessarily sent to attend us." 
 
 " Nay, by my hand," said Lord Lindesay, '* I know not 
 why we were cumbered with the good knight, unless he 
 comes in place of the lump of sugar which pothicars put 
 into their wholesome but bitter medicaments, to please a 
 froward child — a needless labor, methinks, where men have 
 the means to make them swallow the physic otherwise." 
 
 " Nay, my lords," said Melville, *' ye best know your own 
 secret instructions. I conceive I shall best obey mine in 
 striving to mediate between her Grace and you." 
 
 ** Be silent. Sir Robert Melville," said the Queen, arising, 
 and her face still glowing with agitation as she spoke. '' My 
 kerchief, Fleming ; I shame that traitors should have power 
 to move me thus. Tell me, proud lords," she added, wiping 
 away the tears as she spoke, *^ by what earthly warrant can 
 liege subjects pretend to challenge the rights of an anointed 
 sovereign, to throw off the allegiance they have vowed, and 
 to take away the crown from the head on which Divine 
 warrant had placed it ? " 
 
 ** Madam," said Ruthven, *'I will deal plainly with you. 
 Your reign, from the dismal field of Pinkie Cleuch, when 
 you were a babe in the cradle, till now that ye stand a grown 
 dame before us, hath been such a tragedy of losses, disasters, 
 civil dissensions, and foreign wars that the like is not to be 
 found in our chronicles. The French and English have, 
 with one consent, made Scotland the battlefield on which to 
 fight out their own ancient quarrel. For ourselves, every 
 man's hand hath been against his brother, nor hath a year 
 passed over without rebellion and slaughter, exile of nobles, 
 and oppressing of the commons. We may endure it no 
 longer ; and, therefore, as a prince to whom God hath 
 refused the gift of hearkening to wise counsel, and on whose 
 dealings and projects no blessing hath ever descended, we 
 
 f)ray you to give way to other rule and governance of the 
 and, that a remnant may yet be saved to this distracted 
 l-ealm." 
 
 " My lord," said Mary, " it seems to me that you fling on 
 my unnappy and devoted head those evils which, with far 
 more justice, I may impute to your own turbulent, wild, 
 and untamable dispositions : the frantic violence with which 
 you, the magnates of Scotland, enter into feuds against each 
 other, sticking at no cruelty to gratify your wrath, taking 
 deep reyenge for the slightest offenses, and setting at defi- 
 
228 WAV EBLET NOVELS 
 
 ance those wise laws which your ancestors made for stanch- 
 ing of such cruelty, rebelling against the lawful authority, 
 and bearing yourselves as if there were no king in the land, 
 or rather as if each were king in his own premises. And 
 now you throw the blame on met — on me, whose life has been 
 embittered — whose sleep has been broken — whose happiness 
 has been wrecked, by your dissensions. Have I not myself 
 been obliged to traverse wilds and mountains, at the head of 
 a few faithful followers, to maintain peace and to put down 
 oppression ? Have I not worn harness on my person, and 
 carried pistols at my saddle ; fain to lay aside the softness of 
 a woman, and the dignity of a queen, that I might show an 
 example to my followers ? " 
 
 '*We grant, madam/' said Lindesay, ''that the affrays 
 occasioned by your misgovernment may sometimes have 
 startled you in the midst of a masque or galliard ; or it may 
 be that such may have interrupted the idolatry of the mass, 
 or the Jesuitical counsels of some French ambassador. But 
 the longest and severest journey which your Grace has taken 
 in my memory was from Hawick to Hermitage Gastle ; and 
 whether it was for the weal of the etate, or for your own 
 honor, rests with your Grace's conscience."" 
 
 The Queen turned to him with inexpressible sweetness of 
 tone and manner, and that engaging look which Heaven 
 had assigned her, as if to show that the choicest arts to win 
 men's affections may be given in vain. '' Lindesay," she 
 said, '' you spoke not to me in this stern tone, and with 
 such scurril taunt, yon fair summer evening, when you and 
 I shot at the butts against the Earl of Mar and Mary Living- 
 stone, and won of them the evening's collation, in the privy 
 garden of St. Andrews. The Master of Lindesay was then 
 my friend, and vowed to be my soldier. How I have of- 
 fended the Lord of Lindesay I know not, unless honors have 
 changed manners." 
 
 Hard-hearted as he was, Lindesay seemed struck with this 
 unexpected appeal, but almost instantly replied, " Madam, 
 it is well known that your Grace could in those days make 
 fools of whomever approached you. 1 pretend not to have 
 been wiser than others. But gayer men and better courtiers 
 soon jostled aside my rude homage, and I think your Grace 
 cannot but remember times when my awkward attempts to 
 take the manners that pleased you were the sport of the 
 court popinjays, the Maries and the Frenchwomen." 
 
 '' My lord, I grieve if I have offended you through idle 
 gaiety," said the Queen, " and can but say it was most unwit- 
 
I 
 
 THE ABBOT 229 
 
 fcingly done. You are fully revenged ; for through gaiety," 
 she said with a sigh, '^will I never offend any one more." 
 
 " Our time is wasting, madam," said Lord Ruthven ; '' I 
 must pray your decision on this weighty matter which I have 
 submitted to you." 
 
 *^What, my lord! "said the Queen, **upon the instant, 
 and without a moment^s time to deliberate ? Can the 
 council, as they term themselves, expect this of me ?" 
 
 '^ Madam," replied Ruthven, " the council hold the opinion 
 that, since the fatal term which passed betwixt the night of 
 King Henry's murder and the day of Carberry Hill, your 
 Grace should have held you prepared for the measure now 
 proposed, as the easiest escape from your numerous dangers 
 and difficulties." 
 
 " Great God ! " exclaimed the Queen ; '^ and is it as a boon 
 that you propose to me, what every Christian king ought to 
 regard as a loss of honor equal to the loss of life ! You take 
 from me my crown, my power, my subjects, my wealth, my 
 state. What, in the name of every saint, can you offer, or 
 do you offer, in requital of my compliance ? " 
 
 a We give you pardon," answered Ruthven, sternly ; ''we 
 give you space and means to spend your remaining life in 
 penitence and seclusion ; we give you time to make your 
 peace with Heaven, and to receive the pure Gospel, which 
 you have ever rejected and persecuted." 
 
 The Queen turned pale at the menace which this speech, 
 as well as the rough and inflexible tones of the speaker, 
 seemed distinctly to infer. ** And if I do not comply with 
 your request so fiercely urged, my lord, what then follows ?" 
 
 She said this in a voice in which female and natural fear 
 was contending with the feelings of insulted dignity. There 
 was a pause, as if no one cared to return to the question a 
 distinct answer. At length Ruthven spoke. '' There is little 
 need to tell to your Grace, who are well read both in the laws 
 and in the chronicles of the realm, that murder and adultery 
 are crimes for which ere now queens themselves have suffered 
 death." 
 
 ''And where, my lord, or how, found you an accusation 
 so horrible against her who stands before you ? " said Queen 
 Mary. " The foul and odious calumnies which have poisoned 
 the general mind of Scotland, and have placed me a helpless 
 prisoner in your hands, are surely no proof of guilt ? " 
 
 "We need look for no further proof," replied the stern 
 Lord Ruthven, " than the shameless marriage betwixt the 
 widow of the murdered and the leader of the band of mur- 
 
m WA VERLET NOVELS 
 
 derers ! They that joined hands in the fated month of May 
 had already united hearts and counsel in the deed which 
 preceeded that marriage but a few brief weeks/' 
 
 *' My lord — my lord," said the Queen, eagerly, ** remem- 
 ber well there were more consents than mine to that fatal 
 union — that most unhappy act of a most unhappy life. The 
 evil steps ador)ted by sovereigns are often the suggestion of 
 bad counselors ; but these counselors are worse than fiends 
 who tempt and betray, if they themselves are the first to call 
 their unfortunate princes to answer for the consequences of 
 their own advice. Heard ye never of a bond by the nobles, 
 my lords, recommending that ill-fated union to the ill-fated 
 Mary ? Methinks, were it carefully examined, we should see 
 that the names of Morton, and of Lindesay, and of Ruthven 
 may be found in that bond, which pressed me to marry that 
 unhappy man. Ah ! stout and loyal Lord Herries, who 
 never knew guile or dishonor, you bent your noble knee to 
 me in vain, to warn me of my danger, and wert yet the first 
 to draw thy good sword in my cause when I suffered for 
 neglecting thy counsel ! Faithful knight and true noble, 
 what a difference betwixt thee and those counselors of evil 
 who now threaten my life for having fallen into the snares 
 they spread for me ! '* 
 
 ** Madam," said Ruthven, " we know that you are an 
 orator ; and perhaps for that reason the council has sent 
 hither men whose converse hath been more with the wars 
 than with the language of the schools or the cabals of state. 
 We but desire to know if, on assurance of life and honor, ye 
 will demit the rule of this kingdom of Scotland ? " 
 
 *' And what warrant have t" said the Queen, *' that ye 
 will keep that treaty with me, if I should barter my kingly 
 estate for seclusion and leave to weep in secret ? " 
 
 ** Our honor and our word, madam," answered Ruthven. 
 
 ** They are too slight and unsolid pledges, my lord," said 
 the Queen ; " add at least a handful of thistle-down to give 
 them weight in the balance." 
 
 ^' Away, Ruthven," said Lindesay ; '* she was ever deaf to 
 counsel, save of slaves and sycophants : let her remain by 
 her refusal, and abide by it ! " 
 
 **Stay, my lord," said Sir Robert Melville, ''or rather 
 permit me to have but a few minutes' private audience with 
 her Grace. If my presence with you could avail aught, it 
 must be as a mediator ; do not, I conjure you, leave the 
 castle, or break off the conference, until I bring you word 
 how her Grace shall finally stand disposed." 
 
THE ABBOT 281 
 
 *' We will remain in the hall," said Lindesay, *' for half 
 an hour's space ; but in despising our words and our pledge 
 of honor, she has touched the honor of my name : let her 
 look herself to the course she has to pursue. If the half- 
 hour should pass away without her determining to comply 
 with the demands of the nation, her career will be brief 
 enough." 
 
 With little ceremony the two nobles left the apartment, 
 traversed the vestibule, and descended tlie winding stairs, 
 the clash of Lindesay's huge sword being heard as it rang 
 against each step in his descent. George Douglas followed 
 them, after exchanging with Melville a gesture of surprise 
 and sympathy. 
 
 As soon as they were gone, the Queen, giving way to grief, 
 fear, and agitation, threw herself into the seat, wrung her 
 hands, and seemed to abandon herself to despair. Her fe- 
 male attendants, weeping themselves, endeavored yet to 
 pray her to be composed, and Sir Robert Melville, kneeling at 
 her feet, made the same entreaty. After giving way to a 
 passionate burst of sorrow, she at length said to Melville, 
 " Kneel not to me, Melville — mock me not with the homage 
 of the person, when the heart is far away. Why stay you 
 behind with the deposed — the condemned ? — her who has 
 but few hours perchance to live ? You have been favored 
 as well as the rest ; why do you continue the empty show of 
 gratitude and thankfulness any longer than they ?^' 
 
 ** Madam," said Sir Robert Melville, '*so help me Heaven 
 at my need, my heart is as true to you as when you were in 
 your highest place." 
 
 "True to me ! — true to me !" repeated the Queen, with 
 some scorn ; *' tush, Melville, what signifies the truth which 
 walks hand in hand with my enemies' falsehood ? Thy 
 hand and thy sword have never been so well acquainted that 
 I can trust thee in aught where manhood is required. 0, 
 Seyton, for thy bold father, who is both wise, true, and 
 valiant ! " 
 
 Roland Graeme could withstand no longer his earnest de- 
 sire to offer his services to a princess so distressed and so 
 beautiful. '*lf one sword," he said, "madam, can do any- 
 thing to back the wisdom of this grave counselor, or to de- 
 fend your rightful cause, here is my weapon, and here is my 
 hand ready to draw and use it." And raising his sword with 
 one hand, he laid the other upon the hilt. 
 
 As he thus held up the weapon, Catherine Seyton ex- 
 claimed, " Methinks 1 see a token from my father, madam ;" 
 
232 WAVERLET NOVELS 
 
 and immediately crossing the apartment, she took Roland 
 Graeme by the skirt of the cloak, and asked him earnestly 
 whence he had that sword. 
 
 " The page answered with surprise, '' Methinks this is no 
 presence in which to jest. Surely, damsel, you yourself best 
 know whence and how I obtained the weapon." 
 
 *^ Is this a time for folly ? " said Catherine Seyton. '' Un- 
 sheathe the sword instantly ! " 
 
 ^' If the Queen commands me," said the youth, looking 
 towards his royal mistress. 
 
 *' For shame, maiden !" said the Queen ; " wouldst thou 
 instigate the poor boy to enter into useless strife with the 
 two most approved soldiers in Scotland ? " 
 
 ^*In your Grace's cause," replied the page, '* I will ven- 
 ture my life upon them ! " And as he spoke he drew his 
 weapon partly from the sheath, and a piece of parchment, 
 rolled around the blade, fell out and dropped on the floor. 
 
 Catherine Seyton caught it up with eager haste. '^ It is 
 my father's handwriting," she said, ** and doubtless conveys 
 his best duteous advice to your Majesty ; I knew that it was 
 prepared to be sent in this weapon, but I expected another 
 messenger." 
 
 "By my faith, fair one," thought Roland, "and if you 
 knew not that I had such a secret missive about me, I was 
 yet more ignorant." 
 
 The Queen cast her eye upon the scroll, and remained a 
 few minutes wrapped in deep thought. " Sir Robert Mel- 
 ville," she at length said, " this scroll advises me to submit 
 myseli to necessity, and to subscribe the deeds these hard 
 men have brought with them, as one who gives way to the 
 natural fear inspired by the threats of rebels and murderers. 
 You, Sir Robert, are a wise man, and Seyton is both saga- 
 cious and brave. Neither, I think, would mislead ms in this 
 matter." 
 
 " Madam," said Melville, " if I have not the strength of 
 body of the Lords Herries or Seyton, I will yield to neither 
 in zeal for your Majesty's service. I cannot fight for you like 
 these lords, but neither of them is more willing to die for 
 your service." 
 
 "I believe it, my old and faithful counselor," said the 
 Queen, "and believe me, Melville, I did thee but a moment's 
 injustice. Read what my Lord Seyton hath written to us, 
 and give us thy best counsel." 
 
 He glanced over the parchment, and instantly replied, " ! 
 my dear and royal mistress, only treason itself could give yo^ 
 
THE ABBOT 233 
 
 other advice than Lord Seytori has here expressed. He, 
 Herries, Huntly, the English ambassador Throgmorton, and 
 others, yonr friends, are all alike of opinion that whatever 
 deeds or instruments you execute within these walls must 
 lose all force and effect, as extorted from your Grace by 
 duress, by sufferance of present evil, and fear of men, and 
 harm to ensue on your refusal. Yield, therefore, to the tide, 
 and be assured that, in subscribing what parchments they 
 present to you, you bind yourself to nothing, since your act 
 of signature wants that which alone can make it valid, the 
 free will of the grantor." 
 
 *' Ay, so says my Lord Seyton," replied Mary ; ''yet me- 
 thinks, for the daughter of so long a line of sovereigns to 
 resign her birthright, because rebels press upon her with 
 threats, argues little of royalty, and will read ill for the fame 
 of Mary in future chronicles. Tush ! Sir Robert Melville, 
 the traitors may use black threats and bold words, but they 
 will not dare to put their hands forth on our person ? " 
 
 " Alas ! madam, they have already dared so far, and in- 
 curred such peril by the lengths which they have gone, that 
 they are but one step from the worst and uttermost." 
 
 '' Surely," said the Queen, her fears again predominating, 
 " Scottish nobles would not lend themselves to assassinate a 
 helpless woman ? " 
 
 *' Bethink you, madam," he replied, ''what horrid spec- 
 tacles have been seen in our day ; and what act is so dark 
 that some Scottish hand has not been found to dare it ? 
 Lord Lindesay, besides his natural sullenness and hardness 
 of temper, is the near kinsman of Henry Darnley, and Ruth- 
 ven has his own deep and dangerous plans. The council, 
 besides, speak of proofs by writ and word, of a casket with 
 letters — of I know not what. " 
 
 "Ah! good Melville," answered the Queen, "were I as 
 sure of the even-handed integrity of my judges as of my own 
 innocence — and yet " 
 
 " Oh ! pause, madam," said Melville ; " even innocence 
 must sometimes for a season stoop to injurious blame. Be- 
 sides, you are here " 
 
 He looked round and paused. 
 
 " Speak out, Melville," said the Queen, "never one ap- 
 proached my person who wished to work me evil ; and even 
 this poor page, whom I have to-day seen for the first time in 
 my life, I can trust safely with your communication." 
 
 *' Nay, madam," answered Melville, " in such emergence, 
 and he being the bearer of Lord Sey ton's message, I will 
 
234 W A VERLEY JV O VELS 
 
 venture to say before him and these fair ladies, whose truth 
 and fidelity I dispute not — I say, 1 will venture to say, that 
 there are other modes besides that of open trial by which 
 deposed sovereigns often die ; and that, as Machiavel saith, 
 there is but one step betwixt a king's prison and his grave.'* 
 
 *^ Oh ! were it but swift and easy for the body/' said the 
 unfortunate princess, '' were it but a safe and happy change 
 for the soul, the woman lives not that would take the step so 
 soon as I ! But, alas ! Melville, when we think of death, a 
 thousand sins, which we have trod as worms beneath our 
 feet, rise up against us as flaming serpents. Most injuriously 
 do they accuse me of aiding Darnley's death ; yet, blessed 
 Lady ! I afforded too open occasion for the suspicion ; I 
 espoused Both well. '* 
 
 ** Think not of that now, madam,'* said Melville, '* think 
 rather of the immediate mode of saving yourself and son. 
 Comply with the present unreasonable demands, and trust 
 that better times will shortly arrive.*' 
 
 '' Madam," said Eoland Graeme, " if it pleases you that I 
 should do so, I will presently swim through the lake, if they 
 refuse me other conveyance to the shore ; I will go to the 
 courts successively of England, France, and Spain, and will 
 show you have subscribed these vile instruments from no 
 stronger impulse than the fear of death, and I will do battle 
 against them that say otherwise." 
 
 The Queen turned her round, and with one of those sweet 
 smiles which, during the era of life's romance, overpay every 
 risk, held her hand towards Roland, but without speaking a 
 word. He kneeled reverently and kissed it, and Melville 
 again resumed his plea. 
 
 " Madam," he said, "time presses, and you must not let 
 those boats, which I see they are even now preparing, put 
 forth on the lake. Here are enough of witnesses — your ladies 
 — this bold youth — myself, when it can serve your cause 
 effectually, for I would not hastily stand committed in this 
 matter ; but even without me here is evidence enough to show 
 that you have yielded to the demands of the council through 
 force and fear, but from no sincere and unconstrained assent. 
 Their boats are already manned for their return ; oh ! permit 
 your old servant to recall them ! " 
 
 '* Melville," said the Queen, '' thou art an ancient courtier ; 
 when didst thou ever know a sovereign prince recall to his 
 presence subjects who had parted from him on such terms as 
 those on which these envoys of the council left us, and who 
 yet were recalled without submission or apology ? Let it 
 
THE ABBOT 235 
 
 cost me both life and crown, I will not again command them 
 to my presence/' 
 
 ** Alas ! madam, that empty form should make a barrier ! 
 If I rightly understand, you are not unwilling to listen to 
 real and advantageous counsel ; but your scruple is saved, I 
 hear them returning to ask your final resolution. ! take 
 the advice of the noble Seyton, and you may once more com- 
 mand those who now usurp a triumph over you. But hush ! 
 I hear them in the vestibule. '' 
 
 As he concluded speaking, George Douglas opened the door 
 of the apartment, and marshaled in the two noble envoys. 
 
 '^ We come, madam,'' said the Lord Ruthven, ''to request 
 your answer to the proposal of the council." 
 
 ''Your final answer," said Lord Lindesay ; "for with a 
 refusal you must couple the certainty that you have precipi- 
 tated your fate, and renounced the last opportunity of mak- 
 ing peace with God, and ensuring your longer abode in the 
 world." 
 
 " My lords," said Mary, with inexpressible grace and dig- 
 nity, '' the evils we cannot resist we must submit to : I will 
 subscribe these parchments with such liberty of choice as my 
 condition permits me. Were I on yonder shore, with a fleet 
 jennet and ten good and loyal knights around me, I would 
 subscribe my sentence of eternal condemnation as soon as the 
 resignation of my throne. But here, in the Castle of Loch- 
 leven, with deep water around me, and you, my lords, beside 
 me, I have no freedom of choice. Give me the pen, Melville, 
 and bear witness to what I do, and why I do it." 
 
 *' It is our hope your Grace will not suppose yourself com- 
 pelled, by any apprehensions from us," said the Lord Ruth- 
 ven, *' to execute what must be your own voluntary deed." 
 
 The Queen had already stooped towards the table, and 
 placed the parchment before her, with the pen between her 
 fingers, ready for the important act of signature. But when 
 Lord Ruthven had done speaking, she looked up, stopped 
 short, and threw down the pen. '' If," she said, " I am ex- 
 pected to declare I give away my crown of free will, or other- 
 wise than because I am compelled to renounce it by the threat 
 of worse evils to myself and my subjects, I will not put my 
 name to such an untruth — not to gain full possession of Eng- 
 land, France, and Scotland ! all once my own, in possession, 
 or by right." 
 
 '' Beware, madam," said Lindesay, and, snatching hold of 
 the Queen's arm with his own ganntleted hand, he pressed 
 it, iu the rudeness of his passion, more closely, perhaps, than 
 
236 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 he was himself aware of — ^^ beware how you contend with 
 those who are the stronger, and have the mastery of your 
 fate!'' 
 
 He held his grasp on her arm, bending his eyes on her with 
 a stern and intimidating look, till both Euthven and Melville 
 cried '* Shame ! " and Douglas, who had hitherto remained 
 in a state of apparent apathy, had made a stride from the 
 door, as if to interfere. The rude baron then quitted his 
 hold, disguising the confusion which he really felt at having 
 indulged his passion to such an extent under a sullen and 
 contemptuous smile. 
 
 The Queen immediately began, with an expression of pain, 
 to bare the arm which he had grasped, by drawing up the 
 sleeve of her gown, and it appeared that his gripe had left 
 the purple marks of his iron fingers upon her flesh. *' My 
 lord,^^ she said, ^' as a knight and a gentleman, you might 
 have spared my frail arm so severe a proof that you have the 
 greater strength on your side, and are resolved to use it. 
 But I thank you for it — it is the most decisive token of the 
 terms on which this day's business is to rest. I draw you to 
 witness, both lords and ladies," she said, showing the marks 
 of the grasp on her arm, " that I subscribe these instruments 
 m obedience to the sign-manual of my Lord of Lindesay, 
 which you may see imprinted on mine arm.'' * 
 
 Lindesay would have spoken, but was restrained by his 
 colleague Ruthven, who said to him, " Peace, my Lord. Let 
 t;he Lady Mary of Scotland ascribe her signature to what she 
 will, it is our business to procure it, and carry it to the coun- 
 cil. Should there be debate hereafter on the manner in 
 which it was adhibited, there will be time enough for it." 
 
 Lindesay was silent accordingly, only muttering within his 
 beard. '^ I meant not to hurt her ; but I think women's flesh 
 be as tender as new-fallen snow." 
 
 The Queen meanwhile subscribed the rolls of parchment 
 with a hasty indifference, as if they had been matters of slight 
 consequence, or of mere formality. When she had performed 
 this painful task, she arose, and, having courtesied to the 
 lords, was about to withdraw to her chamber. Ruthven and 
 Sir Robert Melville made, the first a formal reverence, the 
 second an obeisance, in which his desire to acknowledge his 
 sympathy was obviously checked by the fear of appearing in 
 the eyes of his colleagues too partial to his former mistress. 
 But Lindesay stood motionless, even when they were prepar- 
 ing to withdraw, ^.t length, as if moved by a sudden im^ 
 ♦ See The Resignation of Queen Mary. Note 16. 
 
I 
 
 THE ABBOT 237 
 
 pulse, he walked round the table which had hitherto been be- 
 twixt them and the Queen, kneeled on one knee, took her 
 hand, kissed it, let it fall, and arose. " Lady,'' he said, 
 ^* thou art a noble creature, even though thou hast abused 
 God's choicest gifts. I pay that devotion to thy manliness 
 of spirit which I would not have paid to the power thou hast 
 long undeservedly wielded : I kneel to Mary Stuart, not to 
 the Queen." 
 
 " The Queen and Mary Stuart pity thee alike, Lindesay," 
 said Mary — ''alike they pity, and they forgive thee. An 
 honored soldier hadst thou been by a king's side ; leagued 
 with rebels, what art thou but a good blade in the hands of 
 a ruffian ? Farewell, my Lord Ruthven, the smoother but 
 the deeper traitor. Farewell, Melville. Mayst thou find, 
 masters that can understand state policy better, and have the 
 means to reward it more richly, than Mary Stuart ! Fare- 
 well, George of Douglas ; make your respected grand-dame 
 comprehend that we would be alone for the remainder of the 
 day, God wot, we have need to collect our thoughts." 
 
 All bowed and withdrew ; but scarce had they entered the 
 vestibule ere Ruthven and Lindesay were at variance. 
 " Chide not with me, Ruthven," Lindesay was heard to say 
 in answer to something more indistinctly urged by his col- 
 league — " chide not with me, for I will not brook it ! You 
 put the hangman's office on me in this matter, and even the 
 very hangman hath leave to ask some pardon of those on 
 whom he does his office. I would I had as deep cause to be 
 this lady's friend as I have to be her enemy : thou shouldst 
 see if I spared limb and life in her quarrel." 
 
 " Thou art a sweet minion," said Ruthven, ''to fight a 
 lady's quarrel, and all for a brent brow and a tear in the eye ! 
 Such toys have been out of thy thoughts this many a year." 
 
 "Do me right, Ruthven," said Lindesay. "You are like 
 a polished corslet of steel : it shines more gaudily, bub it is 
 not a whit softer — nay, it is five times harder — than a Glasgow 
 breast-plate of hammered iron. Enough. We know each 
 other." 
 
 They descended the stairs, were heard to summon their 
 boats, and the Queen signed to Roland Grasme to retire to 
 the vestibule, and leave her with her female attendants. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 Give me a morsel on the greensward rather, 
 Coarse as you will the cooking. Let the fresh spring 
 Bubble beside my napkin, and the free birds. 
 Twittering and chirping, hop from bough to bough, 
 To claim the crumbs I leave for perquisites ; 
 Your prison-feasts I like not. 
 
 The Woodsman, a Drama. 
 
 A RECESS in the vestibule was enlightened by a small window, 
 at which Roland Graeme stationed himself to mark the depar- 
 ture of the lords. He could see their followers mustering on 
 horseback under their respective banners, the western sun 
 glancing on their corslets and steel caps as they moved to 
 and fro, mounted or dismounted, at intervals. On the narrow 
 space betwixt the castle and the water, the Lords Ruthven 
 and Lindesay were already moving slowly to their boats, ac- 
 companied by the Lady of Lochleven, her grandson, and their 
 principal attendants. They took a ceremonious leave of each 
 other, as Roland could discern by their gestures, and the 
 boats put off from their landing-place ; the boatmen stretched 
 to their oars, and they speedily diminished upon the eye of 
 the idle gazer, who had no better employment than to watch 
 their motions. Such seemed also the occupation of the Lady 
 Lochleven and George Douglas, who, returning from the 
 landing-place, looked frequently back to the boats, and at 
 length stopped, as if to observe their progress, under the 
 window at which Roland Graeme was stationed. As they 
 gazed on the lake, he could hear the lady distinctly say, 
 ** And she has bent her mind to save her life at the expense 
 of her kingdom ?" 
 
 " Her life, madam ! " replied her son ; " I know not who 
 would dare to attempt it in the castle of my father. Had I 
 dreamt that it was with such purpose that Lindesay insisted 
 on bringing his followers hither, neither he nor they should 
 have passed the iron gate of Lochleven Castle. ^^ 
 
 " I speak not of private slaughter, my son, but of open 
 trial, condemnation, and execution ; for with such she nai 
 been threatened, and to such threats she has given way. 
 Had she not more of the false Guisian blood than of the royal 
 
 238 
 
THE ABBOT 239 
 
 race of Scotland in her veins, she had bidden them defiance 
 to their teeth. But it is all of the same complexion, and 
 meanness is the natural companion of profligacy. 1 am dis- 
 charged, forsooth, from intruding on her gracious presence 
 this evening. Go thou, my son, and render the usual service 
 of the meal to this unqueened queen.'' 
 
 ''So please you, lady mother," said Douglas, ^'I care not 
 greatly to approach her presence." 
 
 *'Tnou art right, my son ; and therefore I trust thy pru- 
 dence, even because I have noted thy caution. She is like an 
 isle on the ocean, surrounded with shelves and quicksands : 
 its verdure fair and inviting to the eye, but the wreck of many 
 a goodly vessel which had approached it too rashly. But for 
 thee, my son, I fear nought ; and we may not, with our 
 honor, suffer her to eat without the attendance of one of us. 
 She may die by the judgment of Heaven, or the fiend may 
 have power over her in her despair ; and then we would be 
 touched in honor to show that, in our house, and at our table, 
 she had had all fair play and fitting usage." 
 
 Here Koland was interrupted by a smart tap on the shoulders 
 reminding him sharply of Adam Woodcock's adventure of 
 the preceding evening. He turned round, almost expecting 
 to see the page of St. Michael's hostelry. He saw, indeed, 
 Catherine Seyton ; but she was in female attire, differing, no 
 doubt, a great deal in shape and materials from that which 
 she had worn when they first met, and becoming her birth 
 as the daughter of a great baron, and her rank as the attend- 
 ant on a princess. ''So, fair page," said she, ''eavesdrop- 
 ping is one of your page4ike qualities, I presume ? " 
 
 "Fair sister," answered Roland, in the same tone, "if 
 some friends of mine be as well acquainted with the rest of 
 our mystery as they are with the arts of swearing, swagger- 
 ing, and switching, they need ask no page in Christendom 
 for further insight into his vocation." 
 
 " Unless that pretty speech infer that you have yourself 
 had the discipline of the switch since we last met, the prob- 
 ability whereof I nothing doubt, I profess, fair page, I am 
 at a loss to conjecture your meaning. But there is no time 
 to debate it now — they come with the evening meal. Be 
 pleased, sir page, to do your duty." 
 
 Four servants entered bearing dishes, preceded by the same 
 stern old steward whom Roland had already seen, and fol- 
 lowed by George Douglas, already mentioned as the grandson 
 of the Lady of Lochleven, and who, acting as seneschal, rep- 
 resented upon this occasion his father, the lord of the castle. 
 
240 WAYERLEY N0V:ELS 
 
 He entered with his arms folded on his bosom, and his looks 
 bent on the ground. With the assistance of Eoland Graeme, 
 a table was suitably covered in the next or middle apartment, 
 on which the domestics placed their burdens with great rev- 
 erence, the steward and Douglas bending low when they 
 had seen the table properly adorned, as if their royal prisoner 
 had sat at the board in question. The door opened, and 
 Douglas, raising his eyes hastily cast them again on the 
 earth, when he perceived it was only the Lady Mary Fleming 
 who entered. 
 
 ** Her Grace/^ she said, '* will not eat to-night.'^ 
 
 *'Let us hope she may be otherwise persuaded," said 
 Douglas ; " meanwhile, madam, please to see our duty 
 performed." 
 
 A servant presented bread and salt on a silver plate, and 
 the old steward carved for Douglas a small morsel in succes- 
 sion from each of the dishes presented, which he tasted, as 
 was then the custom at the tables of princes, to which death 
 was often suspected to find its way in the disguise of food. 
 
 ^* The Queen will not then come forth to-night ?" said 
 Douglas. 
 
 *' She has so determined," replied the lady. 
 
 ** Our further attendance then is unnecessary : we leave 
 you to your supper, fair ladies, and wish you good even." 
 
 He retired slowly as he came, and with the same air of 
 deep dejection, and was followed by the attendants belonging 
 to the castle. The two ladies sate down to their meal, and 
 Eoland Graeme, with ready alacrity, prepared to wait upon 
 them. Catherine Seyton whispered to her companion, who 
 replied with the question, spoken in a low tone, but looking 
 at the page — '^ Is he of gentle blood and well nurtured ? " 
 
 The answer which she received seemed satisfactory, for she 
 said to Roland, ^' Sit down, young gentleman, and eat with 
 your sisters in captivity." 
 
 ^' Permit me rather to perform my duty in attending 
 them," said Roland, anxious to show he was possessed of the 
 high tone of deference prescribed by the rules of chivalry 
 towards the fair sex, and especially to dames and maidens of 
 quality. 
 
 *' You will find, sir page," said Catherine, ''you will have 
 little time allowed you for your meal ; waste it not in cere- 
 mony, or you may rue your politeness ere to-morrow morn- 
 ing." 
 
 ** Your speech is too free, maiden," said the elder lady ; 
 *' the modesty of the youth may teach you more fitting 
 
TEE ABBOT Ul 
 
 fashions towards one whom to-day you have seen for the first 
 time." 
 
 Catherine Seyton cast down her eyes, but not till she had 
 given a single glance of inexpressible archness towards Eo- 
 land, whom her more grave companion now addressed in a 
 tone of protection. 
 
 *'Eegard her not, young gentleman; she knows little of 
 the world, save the forms of a country nunnery; take thy 
 place at the board-end, and refresh thyself after thy jour- 
 ney." 
 
 Eoland Graeme obeyed willingly, as it was the first food 
 he had that day tasted ; for Lindesay and his followers 
 seemed regardless of human wants. Yet, notwithstanding 
 the sharpness of his appetite, a natural gallantry of disposi- 
 tion, the desire of showing himself a well-nurtnred gentle- 
 man in all courtesies towards the fair sex, and, for aught I 
 know, the pleasure of assisting Catherine Seyton, kept his 
 attention awake, during the meal, to all those nameless acts 
 of duty and service which gallants of that age were accus- 
 tomed to render. He carved with neatness and decorum, 
 and selected duly whatever was most delicate to place before 
 the ladies. Ere they could form a wish, he sprung from the 
 table ready to comply with it — poured wine — tempered it 
 with water — removed and exchanged trenchers, and per- 
 formed the whole honors of the table, with an air at once of 
 cheerful diligence, profound respect, and graceful prompti- 
 tude. 
 
 When he observed that they had finished eating, he hast- 
 ened to offer to the elder lady the silver ewer, basin, and 
 napkin, with the ceremony and gravity which he would have 
 used towards Mary herself. He next, with the same de- 
 corum, having supplied the basin with fair water, presented 
 it to Catherine Seyton. Apparently she was determined to 
 disturb his self-possession if possible ; for, while in the act 
 of bathing her hands, she contrived, as it were by accident, 
 to flirt some drops of water upon the face of the assiduous 
 assistant. But if such was her mischievous purpose she was 
 completely disappointed ; for Eoland Graeme, internally 
 piquing himself on his self-command, neither laughed nor 
 was discomposed ; and all that the maiden gained by her 
 frolic was a severe rebuke from her companion, taxing her 
 with mal-address and indecorum. Catherine replied not, 
 but sat pouting, something in the humor of a spoilt child, 
 who watches the opportunity of wreaking upon some one oi 
 «ther its resentment for a deserved reprimand. 
 i6 
 
248 WAVEBLET NOVELS 
 
 The Lady Mary Fleming, in the meanwhile, was naturally 
 well pleased with the exact and reverent observance of the 
 page, and said to Catherine, after a favorable glance at 
 Roland Greeme, " You might well say, Catherine, our com- 
 panion in captivity was well born and gently nurtured. I 
 would not make him vain by my praise, but his services en- 
 able us to dispense with those which George Douglas conde- 
 scends not to afford us, save when the Queen is herself in 
 presence." 
 
 ** Umph ! 1 think hardly," answered Catherine. " George 
 Douglas is one ot the most handsome gallants in Scotland, 
 and 'tis pleasure to see him even still, when the gloom of 
 Lochleven Castle has shed the same melancholy over him 
 that it has done over everything else. When he was at 
 Holyrood, who would have said the young sprightly George 
 Douglas would have been contented to play the locksman 
 here in Lochleven, with no gayer amusement than that of 
 turning the key on two or three helpless women ? A strange 
 office for a knight of the bleeding heart ; why does he not 
 leave it to his father or his brothers ? " 
 
 ** Perhaps, like us, he has no choice," answered the Lady 
 Fleming. *' But, Catherine, thou hast used thy brief space 
 at court well, to remember what George Douglas was then." 
 
 "I used mine eyes, which I suppose was what I was de- 
 signed to do, and they were worth using there. When I was 
 at the nunnery, they were very useless appurtenances ; and 
 now I am at Lochleven, they are good for nothing, save to 
 look over that eternal work of embroidery." 
 
 " You speak thus, when you have been but a few brief 
 hours amongst us : was this the maiden who would live and 
 die in a dungeon, might she but have permission to wait on 
 her gracious queen ? ' 
 
 " Nay, if you chide in earnest, my jest is ended," said 
 Catherine Seyton. *' I would not yield in attachment to my 
 poor godmother to the gravest dame that ever had wise saws 
 upon her tongue, and a double-starched ruff around her 
 throat — ^you know I would not. Dame Mary Fleming, and it 
 is putting shame on me to say otherwise." 
 
 ** She will challenge the other court lady," thought Ro- 
 land Graeme — '•' she will to a certainty fling down her glove, 
 and if Dame Mary Fleming hath but the soul to lift it, we 
 may have a combat in the lists ! " But the answer of Lady 
 ifary Fleming was such as turns away wrath. 
 
 ** Thou art a good child," she said, " my Catherine, and a 
 faithful ; but Heaven pity him who shall have one day a 
 
THE ABBOT 243 
 
 creature so beairtifnl to delight him, and a thing so mis- 
 chievous to torment him : thou art fit to drive twenty hus- 
 bands stark mad." 
 
 **Nay/' said Catherine, resuming the full career of her 
 careless good-humor, " he must be half-witted beforehand 
 that gives me such an opportunity. But I am glad you are 
 not angry with me in sincerity," casting herself as she spoke 
 into the arms of her friend, and continuing, with a tone of 
 apologetic fondness, while she kissed her on either side of 
 the face — " You know, my dear Fleming, that I have to con- 
 tend with both my father's lofty pride and with my mother's 
 high spirit. G-od bless them I they have left me these good 
 qualities, having small portion to give besides, as times go ; 
 and so I am wilful and saucy ; but let me remain only a week 
 in this castle, and 0, my dear Fleming, my spirit will be as 
 chastised and as humble as thine own." 
 
 Dame Mary Fleming's sense of dignity, and love of form, 
 could not resist this affectionate appeal. She kissed Cathe- 
 rine Seyton in her turn affectionately ; while, answering the 
 last part of her speech, she said, ** Now, Our Lady forbid, 
 dear Catherine, that you should lose aught that is beseeming 
 of what becomes so well your light heart and lively humor. 
 Keep but your sharp wit on this side of madness, and it can- 
 not but be a blessing to us. But let me go, mad wench — I 
 hear her Grace touch her silver call." And, extricating her- 
 self from Catherine's grasp, she went towards the door of 
 Queen Mary's apartment, from which was heard the low tone 
 of a silver whistle, which, now only used by the boatswains 
 in the navy, was then, for want of bells, the ordinary mode 
 by which ladies, even of the very highest rank, summoned 
 their domestics. When she had made two or three steps 
 towards the door, however, she turned back, and advancing 
 to the young couple whom she left together, she said, in a 
 very serious though a low tone, '* I trust it is impossible that 
 we can, any of us, or in any circumstances, forget that, few 
 as we are, we form the household of the Queen of Scotland ; 
 and that, in her calamity, all boyish mirth and childish jest- 
 ing can only serve to give a great triumph to her enemies, 
 who have already found their account in objecting to her 
 the lightness of every idle folly that the young and the gay 
 practised in her court." So saying, she left the apartment. 
 
 Catherine Seyton seemed much struck with this remon 
 Btrance. She suffered herself to drop into the seat which 
 she had quitted when she went to embrace Dame Mary 
 Fleming, and for some time rested her brow upon her hands ; 
 
Ui WAVEBLEY NOVELS 
 
 while Koland Graeme looked at her earnestly, with a mixture 
 of emotions which perhaps he himself could neither have 
 analyzed nor explained. As she raised her face slowly from 
 the posture to which a momentary feeling of self -rebuke had 
 depressed it, her eyes encountered those of Roland, and be- 
 came gradually animated with their usual spirit of malicious 
 drollery, which not unnaturally excited a similar expression 
 m those of the equally volatile page. They sat for the space 
 of two minutes, each looking at the other with great serious- 
 ness on their features, and much mirth in their eyes, until 
 at length Catherine was the first to break silence. 
 
 *' May i pray you, fair sir," she began, very demurely, " to 
 tell me what you see in my face to arouse looks so extremely 
 sagacious and knowing as those with which it is your wor- 
 ship's pleasure to honor me ? It would seem as there were 
 some wonderful confidence and intimacy betwixt u , fair sir, 
 if one is to judge from your extremely cunning looks ; and 
 so help me. Our Lady, as I never saw you but twice in my 
 life before." 
 
 " And where were those nappy occasions/"* said Roland, 
 *'if I may be bold enough to ask the quest on ?" 
 
 " At the nunnery of St. Catherine's,^' said the damsel, " in 
 the first instance ; and, in the second, durin^^ five minutes 
 of a certain raid or foray which it was your pleasure to make 
 into the lodging c±' my lord and father. Lord Seyton, from 
 which, to my surprise, as probably to your own, you returned 
 with a token of friendship and favor instead of broken bones, 
 which were the more probable reward of your intrusion, con- 
 sidering the prompt ire of the house of Seyton. I am deeply 
 mortified," she added, ironically, '* that your recollection 
 should require refreshment on a subject so important; and 
 that my memory should be stronger than yours on such an 
 occasion is truly humiliating." 
 
 " Your own memory is not so exactly correct, fair mistress," 
 answered the page, *' seeing you have forgotten meeting the 
 third, in the hostelry of St. Michaers when it pleased you to 
 lay your switch across the face of my comrade, in order, I 
 warrant, to show that, in the house of Seyton, neither the 
 prompt ire of its descendants, nor the use of the doublet and 
 hose, are subject to Salique law, or confined to the use of the 
 males." 
 
 '' Fair sir," answered Catherine, looking at him with great 
 steadiness and some surprise, '^ unless your fair wits have 
 forsaken you, I am at a loss what to conjecture of your 
 meaning." 
 
THE ABBOT 245 
 
 ''By my troth, fair mistress," answered Roland, ''and 
 were I as wise a warlock as Michael Scott, I could scarce 
 riddle the dream you read me. Did I not see you last night 
 in the hostelry or St. MichaeFs ? Did you not bring me this 
 sword, with command not to draw it save at the command of 
 my native and rightful sovereign ? And have I not done as 
 you required me ? Or is the sword a piece of lath, my word 
 a bulrush, my memory a dream, and my eyes good for nought 
 — espials which corbies might pick out of my head ? " 
 
 " And if your eyes serve you not more truly on other occa- 
 sions than in your vision of St. Michael," said Catherine, 
 " I know not, the pain apart, that the corbies would do you 
 any great injury in the deprivation. But hark, the bell ; 
 hush, for God's sake, we are interrupted " 
 
 The damsel was right ; for no sooner had the dull toll of 
 the castle bell begun to resound through the vaulted apart- 
 ment than the door of the vestibule flew open, and the stew- 
 ard with his severe countenance, his gold chain, and his 
 white rod, entered the apartment, followed by the same train 
 of domestics who had placed the dinner on the table, and 
 who now, with the same ceremonious formality began to re- 
 move it. 
 
 The steward remained motionless as some old picture, 
 while the domestics did their office ; and when it was accom- 
 plished, everything removed from the table, and the board 
 itself taken from its tressels and disposed against the wall, 
 he said aloud, without addressing any one in particular, and 
 somewhat in the tone of a herald reading a proclamation, 
 "My noble lady. Dame Margaret Erskine, by marriage 
 Douglas, lets the Lady Mary of Scotland and her attendants 
 to wit, that a servant of the true Evangel, her reverend 
 chaplain, will to-night, as usual, expound, lecture, and cate- 
 chise, according to the forms of the congregation of Gos- 
 pellers." 
 
 "Hark you, my friend, Mr. Dryfesdale," said Catherine, 
 "I understand this announcement is a nightly form of yours. 
 Now, I pray you to remark, that the Lady of Fleming and I 
 — for I trust your insolent invitation concerns us only — have 
 chosen St. Peter's pathway to Heaven ; so I see no one whom 
 your godly exhortation, catechise, or lecture can benefit, ex- 
 cepting this poor page, who, being in Satan's hand as well 
 as yourself, had better worship with you than remain to 
 cumber our better advised devotions." 
 ^ The page was wellnigh giving a round denial to the asser- 
 tions which this speech implied, when, remembering what 
 
246 WAYKELEY NOVELS 
 
 had passed betwixt him and the Regent, and seeing Cath. 
 erine's finger raised in a monitory fashion, he felt him- 
 self, as on former occasions at the Castle of Avenel, obliged 
 to submit to the task of dissimulation, and followed Dryfes- 
 dale down to the castle chapel, where he assisted in the de- 
 votions of the evening. 
 
 The chaplain was named Elias Henderson. He was a man 
 in the prime of life, and possessed of good natural parts^ 
 carefully improved by the best education which those times 
 afforded. To these qualities were added a faculty of close and 
 terse reasoning, and, at intervals, a flow of happy illustration 
 and natural eloquence. The religious faith of Eoland 
 Graeme, as we have already had opportunity to observe, rested 
 on no secure basis, but was entertained rather in obedience 
 to his grandmother's behests, and his secret desire to contra- 
 dict the chaplain of Avenel Castle, than from any fixed or 
 steady reliance which he placed on the Romish creed. His 
 ideas had been of late considerably enlarged by the scenes he 
 had passed through ; and feeling that there was shame in 
 not understanding something of those political disputes be- 
 twixt the professors of the ancient and of the Reformed 
 faith, he listened, with more attention than it had hitherto 
 been in his nature to yield on such occasions, to an animated 
 discussion of some of the principal points of difference be- 
 twixt the churches. 
 
 So passed away the first day in the Castle of Lochleven ; 
 and those which followed it were, for some time, of a very 
 monotonous and uniform tenor. 
 
CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 Tis a weary life this .... 
 
 Vaults overhead, and grates and bars around me, 
 And my sad hours spent with as sad companions, 
 Whose thoughts are brooding o'er their own mischances, 
 Far, far too deeply to take part in mine. 
 
 The Woodsman, 
 
 The course of life to which Mary and her little retinue were 
 doomed was in the last degree secluded and lonely, varied 
 only as the weather permitted or rendered impossible the 
 Queen's usual walk in the garden or on the battlements. 
 The greater part of the morning she wrought with her ladies 
 at those pieces of needlework many of which still remain, 
 proofs of her indefatigable application. At such hours the 
 page was permitted the freedom of the castle and islet ; nay, 
 lie was sometimes invited to attend George Douglas when he 
 went a-sportmg upon the lake or on its margin — opportuni- 
 ties of diversion which were only clouded by the remarkable 
 melancholy which always seemed to brood on that gentle- 
 man's brow, and to mark his whole demeanor — a sadness so 
 profound that Roland never observed him to smile, or to 
 speak any word unconnected with the immediate object of 
 their exercise. 
 
 The most pleasant part of Roland's day was the occasional 
 space which he was permitted to pass in personal attendance 
 on the Queen and her ladies, together with the regular din- 
 ner-time, which he always spent with Dame Mary Fleming 
 and Catherine Seyton. At these periods, he had frequent 
 occasion to admire the lively spirit and inventive imagina- 
 tion of the latter damsel, who was unwearied in her con- 
 trivances to amuse her mistress, and to banish, for a time at 
 least, the melancholy which preyed on her bosom. She 
 danced, she sung, she recited tales of ancient and modern 
 times, with that heartfelt exertion of talent of which the 
 pleasure lies not in the vanity of displaying it to others, but 
 m the enthusiastic consciousness that we possess it ourselves. 
 And yet these high accomplishments were mixed with an 
 air of rusticity and hare-brained vivacity which seemed rather 
 to belong to some village maid, the coquette of the ring 
 
 U7 
 
i48 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 around the Maypole, than to the high-bred descendant of 
 an ancient baron. A touch of audacity, altogether short of 
 effrontery, and far less approaching to vulgarity, gave, as it 
 were, a wildness to all that she did ; and Mary, while de- 
 fending her from some of the occasional censures of her 
 grave companion, compared her to a trained singing-bird 
 escaped from a cage, which practises in all the luxuriance of 
 freedom, and in full possession of the greenwood bough, the 
 airs which it had learned during its earlier captivity. 
 
 The moments which the page was permitted to pass in the 
 presence of this fascinating creature danced so rapidly away 
 that, brief as they were, they compensated the weary dulness 
 of all the rest of the day. The space of indulgence, how- 
 ever, was always brief, nor were any private interviews be- 
 twixt him and Catherine permitted, or even possible. 
 Whether it were some special precaution respecting the 
 Queen's household, or whether it were her general ideas of 
 propriety. Dame Fleming seemed particularly attentive to 
 prevent the young people from holding any separate corre- 
 spondence together, and bestowed, for Catherine's sole benefit 
 in this matter, the full stock of prudence and experience 
 which she had acquired when mother of the Queen's maidens 
 of honor, and by which she had gained their hearty hatred. 
 Casual meetings, however, could not be prevented, unless 
 Catherine had been more desirous of shunning, or Roland 
 Graeme less anxious in watching for them. A smile, a gibe, 
 a sarcasm, disarmed of its severity by the arch look with 
 which it was accompanied, was all that time permitted to 
 pass between them on such occasions. But such passing in- 
 terviews neither afforded means nor opportunity to renew 
 the discussion of the circumstances attending their earlier 
 acquaintance, nor to permit Roland to investigate more ac- 
 curately the mysterious apparition of the page in the purple 
 velvet' cloak at the hostelry of St. Michael's. 
 
 The winter months slipped heavily away, and spring was 
 already advanced, when Roland Graeme observed a gradual 
 change in the manners of his fellow-prisoners. Having no 
 business of his own to attend to, and being, like those of his 
 age, education, and degree, sufficiently curious concerning 
 what passed around, he began by degrees to suspect, and 
 finally to be convinced, that there was something in agita- 
 tion among his companions in captivity to which they did 
 not desire that lie should be privy. Nay, he became almost 
 certain that, by some means unintelligible to him. Queen 
 Mary held correspondence beyond the walls and waters which 
 
THE ABBOT 249 
 
 surrounded her prison-house, and that she nourished some 
 secret hope of deliverance or escape. In the conversations 
 betwixt her and her attendants at which he was necessarily 
 present, the Queen could not always avoid showing that she 
 was acquainted with the events which were passing abroad 
 in the world, and which he only heard through her report. 
 He observed that she wrote more and worked less than had 
 been her former custom, and that, as if desirous to lull sus- 
 picion asleep, she changed her manner towards the Lady 
 Lochleven into one more gracious, and which seemed to ex- 
 press a resigned submission to her lot. " They think I am 
 blind/' he said to himself, '' and that I am unfit to be trusted 
 because I am so young, or it may be because I was sent 
 hither by the Regent. Well I be it so ; they may be glad to 
 confide in me in the long run ; and Catherine Seyton, for as 
 saucy as she is, may find me as safe a confidant as that sullen 
 • Douglas, whom she is always running after. It maybe they 
 are angry with me for listening to Master Elias Henderson, 
 but it was their own fault for sending me there ; and if the 
 man speaks truth and good sense, and preaches only the 
 Word of God, he is as likely to be right as either Pope or 
 councils.'' 
 
 It is probable that in this last conjecture Roland Graeme 
 had hit upon the red cause why the ladies had not entrusted 
 him with their counsels. He had of late had several confer- 
 ences with Henderson on the subject of religion, and had 
 given him to understand that he stood in need of his instruc- 
 tions, although he had not thought there was either prudence 
 or necessity for confessing that hitherto he had held the 
 tenets of the Church of Rome. 
 
 Elias Henderson, a keenpropagatorof the Reformed faith, 
 had sought the seclusion of Lochleven Castle with the express 
 purpose and expectation of making converts from Rome 
 amongstthedotnesticsof the dethroned Queen, and confirm- 
 ing the faith of those who already held the Protestant doc- 
 trines. Perhaps his hopes soared a little higher, and he might 
 nourish some expectation of a proselyte more distinguished, 
 in the person of the deposed Queen. But the pertinacity 
 with which she and her female attendants refused to see or 
 listen to him rendered such hope, if he nourished it, alto- 
 gether abortive. 
 
 The opportunity, therefore, of enlarging the religious in- 
 formation of Roland Graeme, and bringing him to a more due 
 sense of his duties to Heaven, was hailed by the good man 
 fts a door opened by Providence for the salvation of a sinner. 
 
250 WAVEBLET NOVELS 
 
 He dreamed not, indeed, that he was converting a Papist, 
 but such was the ignorance which Koland displayed upon 
 some material points of the Reformed doctrine, that Master 
 Henderson, while praising his docility to the Lady Lochleven 
 and her grandson, seldom failed to add, that his venerable 
 brother, Henry Warden, must be now decayed in strength 
 and in mind, since he found a catechumen of his flock so 
 ill-grounded in the principles of his belief. For this, indeed, 
 Roland Graeme thought it was unnecessary to assign the true 
 reason, which was his having made it a point of honor to for- 
 get all that Henry Warden taught him, as soon as he was no 
 longer compelled to repeat it over as a lesson acquired by 
 rote. The lessons of his new instructor, if not more impres- 
 sively delivered, were received by a more willing ear and a 
 more awakened understanding, and the solitud^ of Lochleven 
 Castle was favorable to graver thoughts than the page had 
 hitherto entertained. He wavered yet, indeed, as one who 
 was almost persuaded ; but his attention to the chaplain's 
 instructions procured him favor even with the stern old 
 dame herself ; and he was once or twice, but under great 
 precaution, permitted to go to the neighboring village of 
 Kinross, situated on the mainland, to execute some ordinary 
 commission of his unfortunate mistress. 
 
 For some time Roland Graeme might be considered as 
 standing neuter betwixt the two parties who inhabited the 
 water-girdled Tower of Lochleven ; but, as he rose in the 
 opinion of the lady of the castle and her chaplain, he per- 
 ceived, with great grief, that he lost ground in that of Mary 
 and her female allies. 
 
 He came gradually to be sensible that he was regarded as 
 a spy upon their discourse, and that, instead of the ease 
 with which they had formerly conversed in his presence, 
 without suppressing any of the natural feelings of anger, of 
 sorrow, or mirth which the chance topic of the moment hap- 
 pened to call forth, their talk was now guardedly restricted 
 to the most indiiferent subjects, and a studied reserve ob- 
 served even in the mode of treating these. This obvious 
 want of confidence was accompanied with a correspondent 
 change in their personal demeanor towards the unfortunate 
 page. The Queen, who had at first treated him with marked 
 courtesy, now scarce spoke to him, save to convey some nec- 
 essary command for her service. The Lady Fleming re- 
 stricted her notice to the most dry and distant expressions ot 
 civility ; and Catherine Seyton oecame bitter in her pleas- 
 antries, and shy, cross, and pettish in any intercourse they 
 
THE ABBOT 251 
 
 had together. What was yet more provoking, he saw, or 
 thought he saw, marks of intelligence betwixt George Doug- 
 las and the beautiful Catherine Seyton ; and, sharpened 
 by jealousy, he wrought himself almost into a certainty that 
 the looks which they exchanged conveyed matters of deep 
 and serious import. *' No wonder,'' he thought, " if, 
 courted by the son of a proud and powerful baron, she can 
 no longer spare a word or look to the poor fortuneless page.*' 
 
 In a word, Roland Graeme's situation became truly dis- 
 agreeable, and his heart naturally enough rebelled against 
 the injustice of this treatment, which deprived him of the 
 only comfort which he had received for submitting to a con- 
 finement in other respects irksome. He accused Queen Mary 
 and Catherine Seyton (for concerning the opinion of Dame 
 Fleming he was indifferent) of inconsistency in being dis- 
 pleased with him on account of the natural consequences of 
 an order of their own. Why did they send him to hear this 
 overpowering preacher ? The Abbot Ambrosius, he recol- 
 lected, understood the weakness of their Popish cause better, 
 when he enjoined him to repeat within his own mind aves, 
 and credos, and paters all the while old Henry Warden 
 preached or lectured, that so he might secure himself against 
 lending even a momentary ear to his heretical doctrine. 
 " But I will endure this life no longer," said he to himself, 
 manfully ; '* do they suppose I would betray my mistress, 
 because I see cause to doubt of her religion ? That would be 
 a serving, as they say, the devil for God's sake. I will forth 
 into the world ; he that serves fair ladies may at least expect 
 kind looks and kind words ; and I bear not the mind of a 
 gentleman, to submit to cold treatment and suspicion, and a 
 life-long captivity besides. I will speak to George Douglas 
 to-morrow when we go out a-fishing." 
 
 A sleepless night was spent in agitating this magnanimous 
 resolution, and he arose in the morning not perfectly decided 
 in his own mind whether he should abide by it or not. It 
 happened that he was summoned by the Queen at an unusual 
 hour, and just as he was about to go out with George Douglas. 
 He went to attend her commands in the garden ; but, as he 
 had his angling-rod in his hand, the circumstance announced 
 his previous intention, and the Queen, turning to the Lady 
 Fleming, said, " Catherine must devise some other amuse- 
 ment for us, ma bonne amie : our discreet page has already 
 made his party for the day's pleasure." 
 
 "I said from the beginning," answered the Lady Flem- 
 ing, '* that your Grace ought not to rely on being favored 
 
252 IVA VERLEY NOVELS 
 
 with the company of a youth who has so many Hnguenot 
 acquaintances, and has the means of amusing himself far 
 more agreeably than with us." 
 
 " I wish," said Catherine, her animated features redden- 
 ning with mortification, " that his friends would sail away 
 with him for good, and bring us in return a page — if such 
 a thing can be found — faithful to his Queen and to his 
 religion." 
 
 ^^ One part of your wishes may be granted, madam,'' said 
 Eoland Grseme, unable any longer to restrain his sense of the 
 treatment which he received on all sides ; and he was about 
 to add, '' I heartily wish you a companion in my room, if 
 such can be found, who is capable of enduring women's 
 caprices without going distracted." Luckily, he recollected 
 the remorse which he had felt at having given way to the 
 vivacity of his temper upon a similar occasion ; and closing 
 his lips, imprisoned, until it died on his tongue, a reproach 
 so misbecoming the presence of majesty. 
 
 " Why do you remain there," said the Queen, ''as if you 
 were rooted to the parterre ? " 
 
 ''I but attend your Grace's commands," said the page. 
 
 '* I have none to give you. Begone, sir !" 
 
 As he left the garden to go to the boat, he distinctly heard 
 Mary upbraid one of her attendants in these words : '* You 
 see to what you have exposed us I " 
 
 This brief scene at once determined Koland Graeme's reso- 
 lution to quit the castle, if it were possible, and to impart 
 his resolution to George Douglas without loss of time. That 
 gentleman, in his usual mood of silence, sate in the stern of 
 the little skiff which they used on such occasions, trimming 
 his fishing-tackle, and, from time to time, indicating by 
 signs to Graeme, who pulled the oars, which way he should 
 row. When they were a furlong or two from the castle, 
 Roland rested on the oars, and addressed his companion some- 
 what abruptly — ''I have something of importance to say to 
 you, under your pleasure, fair sir." 
 
 The pensive melancholy of Douglas's countenance at once 
 gave way to the eager, keen, and startled look of one who 
 expects to hear something of deep and alarming import. 
 
 " I am wearied to the very death of this Castle of Loch- 
 leven," continued Roland. 
 
 ''Is that all ?" said Douglas ; "I know none of its in- 
 habitants who are much better pleased with it." 
 
 *' Ay — but I am neither a native of the house nor a pris- 
 oner in it, and so I may reasonably desire to leave it." 
 
THE ABBOT 253 
 
 " Yon might desire to quit it with equal reason/' answered 
 Douglas, '' if you were both the one and the other/^ 
 
 '*^But/' said Eoland Graeme, "1 am not only tired of 
 living in Lochleven Castle, but I am determined to quit 
 it/' 
 
 ''That is a resolution more easily taken than executed,'' 
 replied Douglas. 
 
 ''Not if yourself, sir, and your lady [grand-] mother 
 choose to consent," answered the page. 
 
 " You mistake the matter, Eoland," said Douglas : " you 
 will find that the consent of two other persons is equally es- 
 sential — that of the Lady Mary, your mistress, and that of 
 my uncle the Eegent, who placed you about her person, and 
 who will not think it proper that she should change her at- 
 tendants so soon." 
 
 " And must I then remain whether I will or no ? " de- 
 manded the page, somewhat appalled at a view of the sub- 
 ject which would have occurred sooner to a person of more 
 experience. 
 
 "At least," said George Douglas, "you must will to re- 
 main till my uncle consents to dismiss you." 
 
 "Frankly," said the page, "and speaking to you as a 
 gentleman who is incapable of betraying me, I will confess 
 that, if I thought myself a prisoner here, neither walls nor 
 water should confine me long." 
 
 " Frankly," said Douglas, " I could not much blame you 
 for the attempt ; yet, for all that, my father, or uncle, or 
 the earl, or any of my brothers, or, in short, any of the King's 
 lords into whose hand you fell, would in such a case hang 
 you like a dog, or like a sentinel who deserts his post ; and 
 I promise you that you will hardly escape them. But row 
 towards St. Serfs Island : there is a breeze from the west, 
 and we shall have sport, keeping to windward of the isle, 
 where the ripple is strongest. We will speak more of what 
 you have mentioned when we have had an hour's sport." 
 
 Their fishing was successful, though never did two anglers 
 pursue even that silent and unsocial pleasure with less of 
 verbal intercourse. 
 
 When their time was expired, Douglas took the oars in his 
 turn, and by his order Eoland Graeme steered the boat, di- 
 recting her course upon the landing-place at the castle. 
 But he also stopped in the midst of his course, and, looking 
 around him, said to Graeme. " There is a thing which I 
 could mention to thee ; but it is so deep a secret that even 
 here, surrounded as we are by waves and sky, without the 
 
254 WAVEBLEY NOVELS 
 
 possibility of a listener, I cannot prevail on myself to 
 speak it out/' 
 
 '' Better leave it unspoken, sir/' answered Koland Graeme, 
 "if you doubt the honor of him who alone can hear it/' 
 
 " I doubt not your honor/' replied George Douglas ; " but 
 you are young, imprudent, and changeful/' 
 
 '* Young," said Koland, '* I am, and it may be imprudent . 
 but who hath informed you that I am changeful ? " 
 
 ** One that knows you, perhaps, better than you know 
 yourself," replied Douglas. 
 
 " I suppose you mean Catherine Seyton," said the page, 
 his heart rising as he spoke ; " but she is herself fifty times 
 more variable in her humor than the very water which we 
 are floating upon/' 
 
 ^' My young acquaintance," said Douglas, " I pray you to 
 remember that Catherine Seyton is a lady of blood and birth, 
 and must not be lightly spoken of/' 
 
 *' Master George of Douglas," said Graeme, *' as that speech 
 seemed to be made under the warrant of something like a 
 threat, I pray you to observe that I value not the threat at 
 the estimation of a fin of one of these dead trouts ; and, 
 moreover, I would have you to know that the champion who 
 undertakes the defense of every lady of blood and birth 
 whom men accuse of change of faith and of fashion is like 
 to have enough of work on his hands/' 
 
 ** Go to," said the seneschal, but in a tone of good-humor, 
 " thou art a foolish boy, unfit to deal with any matter more 
 serious than the casting of a net or the flying of a hawk/' 
 
 " If your secret concerns Catherine Seyton," said the page, 
 '^ I care not for it, and so you may tell her if you will. 1 
 wot she can shape you opportunity to speak with her, as she 
 has ere now/' 
 
 The flush which passed over Douglas's face made the page 
 aware that he had lighted on a truth when he was, in fact, 
 speaking at random ; and the feeling that he had done so 
 was like striking a dagger into his own heart. His companion, 
 without further answer, resumed the oars, and pulled lustily 
 till they arrived at the island and the castle. The servants 
 received the product of their sport, and the two fishers, 
 turning from each other in silence, went each to his several 
 apartment. 
 
 Roland Graeme had spent about an hour in grumbling 
 against Catherine Seyton, the Queen, the Regent, and the 
 whole house of Lochleven, with George Douglas at the head 
 ©f it, when the time approached that his duty called him to 
 
THE ABBOT 256 
 
 attend the meal of Queen Marj. As he arranged his dress for 
 this purpose, he grudged the trouble, which on similar occa- 
 sions he used, with boyish foppery, to consider as one of the 
 most important duties of his day ; and when he went to take 
 his place behind the chair of the Queen, it was with an air of 
 offended dignity which could not escape her observation, and 
 probably appeared to her ridiculous enough, for she whispered 
 something in French to her ladies, at which the Lady Flem- 
 ing laughed, and Catherine appeared half diverted and hali 
 disconcerted. This pleasantry, of which the subject was con- 
 cealed from him, the unfortunate page received, of course, as 
 a new offense, and called an additional degree of sullen dig- 
 nity into his mien, which might have exposed him to farther 
 raillery, but that Mary appeared disposed to make allowance 
 for and compassionate his feelings. 
 
 With the peculiar tact and delicacy which no woman pos- 
 sessed in greater perfection, she began to soothe by degrees 
 the vexed spirit of her magnanimous attendant. The excel- 
 lence of the fish which he had taken in his expedition, the 
 high flavor and beautiful red color of the trouts, which have 
 long given distinction to the lake, led her first to express her 
 thanks to her attendant for so agreeable an addition to her 
 table, especially vl^owq, jour de jeiine ; and then brought on 
 inquiries into the place where the fish had been taken, their 
 size, their peculiarities, the times when they were in season, 
 and a comparison between the Lochleven trouts and those 
 which are found in the lakes and rivers of the south of Scot- 
 land. The ill-humor of Eoland Graeme was never of an obsti- 
 nate character. It rolled away like mist before the sun, and 
 he was easily engaged in a keen and animated dissertation about 
 Lochleven trout, and sea trout, and river trout, and bull trout, 
 and char, which never rise to a fly, and par which some sup- 
 pose infant salmon, and "herlings,'* which frequent the Nith 
 and ^' vendisses," which are only found in the Castle Loch of 
 Lochmaben ; and he was hurrying on with the eager impetu- 
 osity and enthusiasm of a young sportsman, when he observed 
 that the smile with which the Queen at first listened to him 
 died languidly away, and that, in spite of her efforts to sup- 
 press them, tears rose to her eyes. He stopped suddenly 
 short, and, distressed in his turn, asked, *' If he had had the 
 misfortune unwittingly to give displeasure to her Grace ?'* 
 
 *'No, my poor boy,'* replied the Queen; **but, as you 
 numbered up the lakes and rivers of my kingdom, imagina- 
 tion cheated me, as it will do, and snatched me from these 
 dreary walls away to the romantic streams of Nithsdale and 
 
JJ56 WA VEBLEY NOVELS 
 
 the royal towers of Lochmaben. land, which my fathers 
 have so long ruled ! of the pleasures which you extend so 
 freely your Queen is now deprived, and the poorest beggar, 
 who may wander free from one landward town to another, 
 would scorn to change fates with Mary of Scotland ! " 
 
 ''Your Highness, '' said the Lady Fleming, '' will do well 
 to withdraw." 
 
 " Come with me then, Fleming," said the Queen : " I 
 would not burden hearts so young as these are with the sight 
 of my sorrows." 
 
 She accompanied these words with a look of melancholy 
 compassion towards Roland and Catherine, who were now 
 left alone together in the apartment. 
 
 The page found his situation not a little embarrassing ; for 
 as every reader has experienced who may have chanced to be 
 in such a situation, it is extremely difficult to maintain the 
 full dignity of an offended person in the presence of a beauti- 
 ful girl, whatever reason we may have for being angry with 
 her. Catherine Seyton, on her part, sat still like a linger- 
 ing ghost, which, conscious of the awe which its presence im- 
 poses, is charitably disposed to give the poor confused mor- 
 tal whom it visits time to recover his senses, and comply 
 with the grand rule of demonology by speaking first. But 
 as Eoland seemed in no hurry to avail himself of her con- 
 descension, she carried it a step farther, and herself opened 
 the conversation. 
 
 " I pray you, fair sir, if it may be permitted me to disturb 
 your august reverie by a question so simple, what may have 
 become of your rosary ?" 
 
 '' It is lost, madam — lost some time since," said Roland, 
 partly embarrassed and partly indignant. 
 
 '' And may I ask farther, sir," said Catherine, '^ why you 
 have not replaced it with another ? I have half a mind," 
 she said, taking from her pocket a string of ebony heads 
 adorned with gold, '' to bestow one upon you, to keep for toy 
 sake, just to remind you of former acquaintance." 
 
 There was a little tremulous accent in the tone with which 
 these words were delivered, which at once put to flight Ro- 
 land Grasme's resentment, and brought him to Catherine's 
 side ; but she instantly resumed the bold and firm accent 
 which was more familiar to her. "I did not bid you," she 
 said, '' come and sit so close by me ; for the acquaintance 
 that I spoke of has been stiff and cold, dead and buried, for 
 this many a day.'' 
 
 ** Now Heaven forbid I " said the page, " it has only 
 
 J 
 
THE ABBOT 257 
 
 slept ; and now that you desire it should awake, fair Cath- 
 erine, believe me that a pledge of your returning favor "' 
 
 '^ Nay, nay,'' said Catherine, withholding the rosary, 
 towards which, as he spoke, he extended his hand, '' I have 
 changed my mind on better reflection. What should a here- 
 tic do with these holy beads, that have been blessed by the 
 Father of the church himself V 
 
 Roland winced grievously, for he saw plainly which way 
 the discourse was now likely to tend, and felt that it must 
 at all events be embarrassing. ''Nay, but," he said, *^^ it 
 was as a token of your own regard tliat you offered them.'' 
 
 " Ay, fair sir, but that regard attended the faithful sub- 
 ject, the loyal and pious Catholic, the individual who was 
 so solemnly devoted at the same time with myself to the 
 same grand duty ; which, you must now understand, was to 
 serve the church and Queen. To such a person, if you ever 
 heard of him, was my regard due, and not to him who asso- 
 ciates with heretics, and is about to become a renegade." 
 
 '*I should scarce believe, fair mistress," said Eoland, in- 
 dignantly, ** that the vane of your favor turned only to a 
 Catholic wind, considering that it points so plainly to George 
 Douglas, who, I think, is both kingsman and Protestant." 
 
 ** Think better of George Douglas," said Catherine, 
 
 *' than to believe " and then checking herself, as if she 
 
 had spoken too much, she went on, '' I assure you, fair Mas- 
 ter Roland, that all who wish you well are sorry for you." 
 
 *^ Their number is very few, I believe," answered Roland, 
 '' and their sorrow, if they feel any, not deeper than ten 
 minutes' time will jure." 
 
 "They are more t nmerous, and think more deeply con- 
 cerning you, than yoc( seem to be aware," answered Cath- 
 erine. ** But perhaps they think wrong. You are the best 
 judge in your own affairs ; and if you prefer gold and 
 church lands to honor and loyalty, and the faith of your 
 fathers, why should you be hampered in conscience more 
 than others ?" 
 
 " May Heaven bear witness for me," said Roland, " that 
 if I entertain any difference of opinion — that is, if 1 nourish 
 any doubts in point of religion, they have been adopted on 
 the conviction of my own mind, and the suggestion of my 
 own conscience !" 
 
 " Ay, ay, your conscience — your conscience !" repeated 
 she with satiric emphasis — "your conscience is the scape- 
 goat ; I warrant it. an able one : it will bear the burden of 
 one of the best manors of the Abbey of St. Mary of Kenna- 
 17 
 
258 WA YEELET NO VEL8 
 
 qnhair, lately forfeited to our noble Lord the King by the 
 abbot and community thereof, for the high crime of fidelity 
 to their religious vows, and now to be granted by the High 
 and Mighty Traitor, and so forth, James Earl of Murray, to 
 the good squire of dames, Roland Graeme, for his loyal and 
 faithful service as under-espial and deputy-turnkey for se- 
 curing the person of his lawful sovereign, Queen Mary/^ 
 
 *^You misconstrue me cruelly,''^ said the page — "yes, 
 Catherine, most cruelly. God knows I would protect this 
 poor lady at the risk of my life, or with my life ; but what 
 can I do — what can any one do for her ? " 
 
 ^'Much may be done — enough may be done — all may be 
 done — if men will be but true and honorable, as Scottish men 
 were in the days of Bruce and Wallace. 0, Roland, from 
 what an enterprise you are now withdrawing your heart 
 and hand, through mere fickleness and coldness of spirit ! " 
 
 *' How can I withdraw,^' said Roland, *^from an enter- 
 prise which has never been communicated to me ? Has the 
 Queen, or have you, or has any one, communicated with me 
 upon anything for her service which I have refused ? Or 
 have you not, all of you, held me at such a distance from 
 your counsels as if I were the most faithless spy since the 
 days of Ganelon ?" * 
 
 ^'^ And who/' said Catherine Seyton, "would trust the 
 sworn friend, and pupil, and companion of the heretic 
 preacher Henderson ? Ay, a proper tutor you have chosen, 
 instead of the excellent Ambrosius, who is now turned out 
 of house and homestead, if indeed he is not languishing in a 
 dungeon, for withstanding the tyranny of Morton, to whose 
 brother the temporalities of that noble house of God have 
 been gifted away by the Regent. '^ 
 
 "Is it possible ?" said the page; "and is the excellent 
 Father Ambrose in such distress ? '' 
 
 " He would account the news of your falling away from 
 the faith of your fathers,^' answered Catherine, '^ a worse 
 mishap than aught that tyranny can inflict on himself. '' 
 
 " But why,'' said Roland, very much moved — " why should 
 you suppose that — that — that it is with me as you say ? " 
 
 " Do you yourself deny it ? '* replied Catherine ; " do you 
 not admit that you have drunk the poison which you should 
 have dashed from your lips ? Do you deny that it now fer- 
 ments in your veins, if it has not altogether corrupted the 
 springs of life ? Do you deny that you have your doubts, as 
 you proudly term them, respecting what popes and coun- 
 
 ♦See Note 17. 
 
THE ABBOT 269 
 
 cils have declared it unlawful to doubt of ? Is not your faith 
 wavering, if not overthrown 't Does not the heretic preacher 
 boast his conquest ? Does not the heretic woman of this 
 prison-house hold up thy example to others ? Do not the 
 Queen and the Lady Fleming believe in thy falling away ? 
 And is there any except one — yes, I will speak it out, and 
 think as lightly as you please of my good- will — is there one 
 except myself that holds even a lingering hope that you may 
 yet prove what we once all believed of you ? " 
 
 '* I know not," said our poor page, much embarrassed by the 
 view which was thus presented to him of the conduct he was 
 expected to pursue, and by a person in whom he was not the 
 less interested that so long a residence in Lochleven Castle, 
 with no object so likely to attract his undivided attention, 
 had taken place since they had first met — '^I know not what 
 you expect of me, or fear from me. I was sent hither to at- 
 tend Queen Mary, and to her I acknowledge the duty of a 
 servant through life and death. If any one had expected 
 service of another kind, I was not the party to render it. I 
 neither avow nor disclaim the doctrines of the Eeformed 
 Church. Will you have truth ? It seems to me that the 
 profligacy of the Catholic clergy has brought this judgment 
 on their own heads, and, for aught I know, it may be for 
 their reformation. But, for betraying this unhappy Queen, 
 God knows I am guiltless of the thought. Did I even be- 
 lieve worse of her than as her servant I wish — as her sub- 
 ject I dare — to do, I would not betray her ; far from it — I 
 would aid her in aught which could tend to a fair trial 
 of her cause.^' 
 
 '' Enough ! — enough ! " answered Catherine, clasping her 
 hands together ; ^' then thou wilt not desert us if any means 
 are presented by which, placing our royal mistress at free- 
 dom, this case may be honestly tried betwixt her and her 
 rebellious subjects ?" 
 
 ^' Nay, but, fair Catherine," replied the page, " hear but 
 what the Lord of Murray said when he sent me hither " 
 
 ^^Hear but what the devil said," replied the maiden, 
 ** rather than what a false subject, a false brother, a false 
 counselor, a false friend said ! A man raised from a petty 
 pensioner on the crown's bounty to be the counselor of 
 majesty, and the prime distributor of the bounties of the 
 state ; one with whom rank, fortune, title, consequence, and 
 power all grew up like a mushroom by the mere warm good- 
 will of the sister whom, in requital, he hath mewed up in 
 this place of melancholy seclusion ; whom, in further re- 
 
260 WA VBBLET NOVELS 
 
 quital, ne has deposed ; and whom, if he dared, he would 
 murder ! '' 
 
 " I think not so ill of the Earl of Murray," said Eoland 
 Graeme ; ^'and sooth to speak," he added, with a smile, '^ it 
 would require some bribe to make me embrace, with firm and 
 deperate resolution, either one side or the other." 
 
 "Nay, if that is all," replied Catherine Seyton, in a tone 
 of enthusiasm, '^ you shall be guerdoned with prayers from 
 oppressed subjects — from dispossessed clergy — from insulted 
 nobles — with immortal praise by future ages — with eager 
 gratitude by the present — with fame on earth and with feli- 
 city in Heaven ! Your country will thank you — your Queen 
 will be debtor to you — you will achieve at once the highest 
 from the lowest degree m chivalry — all men will honor, all 
 women will love you — and I, sworn with you so early to the 
 accomplishment of Queen Mary's freedom, will — yes, I will 
 love you better than — ever sister loved brother ! " 
 
 " Say on — say on ! " whispered Eoland, kneeling on one 
 knee, and taking her hand, which, in the warmth of exhorta- 
 tion, Catherine held towards him. 
 
 " Nay," said she, pausing, " I have already said too much 
 — far too much if I prevail not with you, far too little if I 
 do. But I prevail, she continued, seeing that the coun- 
 tenance of the youth she addressed returned the enthusiasm 
 of her own — ''I prevail; or rather the good cause prevails 
 through its own strength — thus I devote thee to it." And 
 as she spoke she approached her finger to the brow of the 
 astonished youth, and, without touching it, signed the cross 
 over his forehead ; stooped her face towards him, and seemed 
 to kiss the empty space in which she had traced the symbol ; 
 then starting up, and extricating herself from his grasp, 
 darted into the Queen's apartment. 
 
 Roland Graeme remained as the enthusiastic maiden had 
 left him, kneeling on one knee, with breath withheld, and 
 with eyes fixed upon the space which the fairy form of Cath- 
 erine Seyton had so lately occupied. If his thoughts were 
 not of unmixed delight, they at least partook of that thrill- 
 ing and intoxicating, though mingled, sense of pain and 
 pleasure, the most overpowering which life offers in its 
 blended cup. He rose and retired slowly ; and although the 
 chaplain, Mr. Henderson, preached on that evening his best 
 sermon against the errors of Popery, I would not engage 
 that he was followed accurately through the train of his reas- 
 oning by the young proselyte, with a view to whose especial 
 benefit he had handled the subject. 
 
CHAPTER XXV 
 
 And when Love's torch hath set the heart in flame, 
 Comes Seignor Reason, with his saws and cautions, 
 Giving such aid as the old gray-beard sexton, 
 Who from the church-vault drags his crazy engine, 
 To ply its dribbling ineffectual streamlet 
 Against a conflagration. 
 
 Old Play. 
 
 In a musing mood, Roland Graeme upon the ensuing morn- 
 ing betook himself to the battlements of the castle, as a spot 
 where he might indulge the course of his thick-coming fan- 
 cies with least chance of interruption. But his place of 
 retirement was in the present case ill chosen, for he was 
 presently joined by Mr. Elias Henderson. 
 
 "I sought you young man,'' said the preacher, "having 
 to speak of something which concerns jou nearly.'' 
 
 The page had no pretense for avoiding the conference 
 which the chaplain thus offered, though he felt that it might 
 prove an embarrassing one. 
 
 "In teaching thee, as far as my feeble knowledge hath 
 permitted, thy duty towards God," said the chaplain, "there 
 are particulars of your duty towards man upon which I was 
 unwilling long or much to insist. You are here in the ser- 
 vice of a lady, honorable as touching her birth, deserving of all 
 compassion as respects her misfortunes, and garnished with 
 even but too many of those outward qualities which win 
 men's regard and affection. Have you ever considered your 
 regard to this Lady Mary of Scotland in its true light and 
 bearing ? " 
 
 " I trust, reverend sir," replied Roland Graeme, " that I 
 am well aware of the duties a servant in my condition owes 
 to his royal mistress, especially in her lowly and distressed 
 state." 
 
 "True," answered the preacher; "but it is even that 
 honest feeling which may, in the Lady Mary's case, carry 
 thee into great crime and treachery." 
 
 " How so, reverend sir ?" replied the page ; " I profess I 
 understand you not." 
 
 ** I speak to yon not of the crimes of this ill-advised lady/* 
 
 261 
 
262 WAVEELEY NOVELS 
 
 said the preacher ; '' they are not subjects for the ears of 
 her sworn servant. But it is enough to say that this un- 
 happy person hath rejected more offers of grace^ more hopes 
 of glory, than ever were held out to earthly princes ; and 
 that she is now, her day of favor being passed, sequestered 
 in this lonely castle, for the commonweal of the people of 
 Scotland, and it may be for the benefit of her own soul." 
 
 '* Reverend sir," said Roland, somewhat impatiently, *'I 
 am but too well aware that my unfortunate mistress is im- 
 prisoned, since I have the misfortune to share in her restraint 
 myself, of which, to speak sooth, I am heartily weary." 
 
 "It is even of that which I am about to speak," said 
 the chaplain, mildly ; *' but first, my good Roland, look forth 
 on the pleasant prospect of yonder cultivated plain. You see, 
 where the smoke arises, yonder village standing half-hidden 
 by the trees, and you know it to be the dwelling-place of 
 peace and industry. From space to space, each by the side 
 of its own stream, you see the gray towers of barons, with 
 cottages interspersed ; and you know that they also, with 
 their household, are now living in unity — the lance hung 
 upon the wall and the sword resting in its sheath. You see, 
 too, more than one fair church where the pure waters of life 
 are offered to the thirsty' and where the hungry are refreshed 
 with spiritual food. What would he deserve who should bring 
 fire and slaughter into so fair and happy a scene — who should 
 bear the swords of the gentry and turn them against each 
 other — who should give tower and cottage to the flames,, and 
 slake the embers with the blood of the ind wallers ? What 
 would he deserve who should lift up agaip that ancient 
 Dagon of superstition whom the worthies of the time have 
 beaten down, and who should once more mak^ the churches 
 of God the high places of Baal ? " 
 
 '' You have limned a frightful picture, reverend sir/' said 
 Roland Graeme ; "yet I guess not whom you would charge 
 with the purpose of effecting a change so horrible." 
 
 " God forbid," replied the preacher, " that 3 should say to 
 thee, thou art the man. Yet beware, Roland Graeme, that 
 thou, in serving thy mistress, hold fast the still higher ser- 
 vice which thou owest to the peace of thy country and the 
 prosperity of her inhabitants ; else, Roland Graeme, thou 
 mayst be the very man upon whose head will fall the curses 
 and assured punishment due to such work. If thou art won 
 by the song of these sirens to aid that unhappy lady's '^scapa 
 from this place of penitence and security, it is over with tlip 
 peace of Scotland's cottages and with the prosperity of he^ 
 
THE ABBOT 263 
 
 palaces ; and the babe unborn shall curse the name of the 
 man who gave inlet to the disorder which will follow the war 
 betwixt the mother and the son." 
 
 " I know of no such plan, reverend sir," answered the 
 page, ' ^ and therefore can aid none such. My duty towards 
 the Queen has been simply that of an attendant ; it is a task 
 of which, at times, I would willingly have been freed ; never- 
 theless " 
 
 ^* It is to prepare thee for the enjoyment of something 
 more of liberty," said the preacher, '^ that I have endeavored 
 to impress upon you the deep responsibility under which 
 your office must be discharged. George Douglas hath told 
 the Lady Lochleven that you are weary of this service, and 
 my intercession hath partly determined her good ladyship 
 that, as your discharge cannot be granted, you shall, instead, 
 be employed in certain commissions on the mainland, which 
 have hitherto been discharged by other persons of confidence. 
 Wherefore, come with me to the lady, for even to-day such 
 duty will be imposed on you." 
 
 ^' I trust you will hold me excused, reverend sir," said the 
 page, who felt that an increase of confidence on the part of 
 the lady of the castle and her family would render his situa- 
 tion in a moral view doubly embarrassing, '' one cannot 
 serve two masters ; and I much fear that my mistress will 
 not hold me excused for taking employment under an- 
 other." 
 
 " Fear not that," said the preacher ; '' her consent shall be 
 asked and obtained. I fear she will yield it but too easily, as 
 hoping to avail herself of your agency to maintain correspond- 
 ence with her friends, as those falsely call themselves who 
 would make her name the watchward for civil war." 
 
 " And thus," said the page, ^^ I shall be exposed to sus- 
 picion on all sides ; for my mistress will consider me as a spy 
 placed on her by her enemies, seeing me so far trusted by 
 them ; and the Lady Lochleven will never cease to suspect 
 the possibility of my betraying her, because circumstances 
 put it into my power to do so ; I would rather remain as I 
 am." 
 
 There followed a pause of one or two minutes, during 
 which Henderson looked steadily in Roland's countenance, 
 as if desirous to ascertain whether there was not more in the 
 answer than the precise words seemed to imply. He failed 
 in this point, however ; for Eoland, bred a page from child- 
 hood, knew how to assume a sullen, pettish cast of counte* 
 nance, well enough calculated to hide all internal emotions. 
 
264 WAVERLET NOVELS 
 
 " I understand thee not, Roland/' said the preacher, '^ or 
 rather thou thinkst on this matter more deeply than I appre- 
 hended to be in thy nature. Methought the delight of 
 going on shore with thy bow, or thy gun, or thy angling-rod, 
 would have borne away all other feelings." 
 
 " And so it would," replied Roland, who perceived the 
 danger of suffering Henderson's half-raised suspicions to be- 
 come fully awake — ** I would have thought of nothing but 
 the gun and the oar, and the wild water-fowl that tempt me 
 by sailing among the sedges yonder so far out of flight-shot, 
 had you not spoken of my going on shore as what was to oc- 
 casion burning of town and tower, the downfall of the Evan- 
 gel, and the upsetting of the mass." 
 
 " Follow me, then," said Henderson, '' and we will seek 
 the Lady Lochleven." 
 
 They found her at breakfast with her grandson George 
 Douglas. ''Peace be with your ladyship!" said the 
 preacher, bowing to his patroness ; " Ronald Graeme awaits 
 your order." 
 
 '•^ Young man," said the lady, "our chaplain hath war- 
 ranted for thy fidelity, and we are determined to give you 
 certain errands to do for us in our town of Kinross. ' 
 
 " Not by my advice," said Douglas, coldly. 
 
 " I said not that it was," answered the lady, something 
 sharply. '' The mother of thy father may, I should think, 
 be old enough to judge for herself in a matter so simple. 
 Thou wilt take the skiff, Roland, and two of my people, 
 whom Dryfesdale or Randal will order out, and fetch off cer- 
 tain stuff of plate and hangings which should last night be 
 lodged at Kinross by the wains from Edinburgh." 
 
 "And give this packet," said George Douglas, "to a 
 servant of ours, whom you will find in waiting there. It is 
 the report to my father," he added, looking towards his 
 grandmother, who acquiesced by bending her head. 
 
 " I have already mentioned to Master Henderson," said 
 Roland Graeme, " that, as my duty requires my attendance 
 on the Queen, her Grace's permission for my journey ought 
 to be obtained before I can undertake your commission." 
 
 " Look to it, my son," said the old lady, " the scruple of 
 the youth is honorable." 
 
 " Craving your pardon, madam, I have no wish to force 
 myself on her presence thus early," said Douglas in an in- 
 di^erent tone ; "it might displease her, and were no way 
 agreeable to me." 
 
 " And I," said the Lady Lochleven, " although her temper 
 
i 
 
 THE ABBOT 265 
 
 hath been more gentle of late, have no will to undergo, with* 
 out necessity, the rancor of her wit." 
 
 '* Under your permission, madam/' said the chaplain, " I 
 will myself render your request to the Queen. During my 
 long residence in this house she hath not deigned to see me 
 in private, or to hear my doctrine ; yet so may Heaven 
 prosper my labors, as love for her soul, and desire to bring 
 her into the right path, was my chief motive for coming 
 hither." 
 
 " Take care. Master Henderson," said Douglas, in a tone 
 which seemed almost sarcastic, *^^lest you rush hastily on an 
 adventure to which you have no vocation ; you are learned, 
 and know the adage, Ne accesseris in consilium nisi vocatus. 
 Who hath required this at your hand ? " 
 
 " The Master to whose service I am called," answered the 
 preacher, looking upward — ^' He who hath commanded me 
 to be earnest in season and out of season." 
 
 '* Your acquaintance hath not been much, I think,with 
 courts or princes," continued the young esquire. 
 
 '* No, sir," replied Henderson, '' but, like my master Knox, 
 I see nothing frightful in the fair face of a pretty lady." 
 
 *' My son," said the Lady of Lochleven, *^ quench not the 
 good man's zeal : let him do the errand to this unhappy 
 princess." 
 
 '' With more willingness than I would do it myself," said 
 George Douglas. Yet something in his manner appeared 
 to contradict his words. 
 
 The minister went accordingly, followed by Roland Graeme, 
 and, demanding an audience of the imprisoned princess, was 
 admitted. He found her with her ladies engaged in the 
 daily task of embroidery. The Queen received him with that 
 courtesy which, in ordinary cases, she used towards all who 
 approached her, and the clergyman, in opening his commis- 
 sion, was obviously somewhat more embarrassed than he had 
 expected to be. ^' The good Lady of Lochleven, may it 
 please your Grace " 
 
 He made a short pause, during which Mary said, with a 
 smile, *' My Grace would, in truth, be well pleased were the 
 Lady of Lochleven our good lady ; but go on — what is the will 
 of the good Lady of Lochleven ? " 
 
 "She desires, madam/' said the chaplain, "that your 
 
 Grace will permit this young gentleman, your page, Roland 
 
 Graeme, to pass to Kinross, to look after some household stuff 
 
 • and hangings sent hither for the better furnishing of your 
 
 Grace's apartments." 
 
266 WAVEBLEY NOVELS 
 
 '* The Lady of Lochleven/' said the Qaeen, " uses 
 needless ceremony, in requesting our permission for that 
 which stands within her own pleasure. We well know that 
 this young gentleman's attendance on us had not been so 
 long permitted were he not thought to be more at the com- 
 mand of that good lady than at ours. But we cheerfully 
 yield consent that he shall go on her errand ; with our will 
 we would doom no living creature to the captivity which we 
 ourselves must suffer.'" 
 
 " Ay, madam/' answered the preacher, " and it is doubt- 
 less natural for humanity to quarrel with its prison-house. 
 Yet there have been those who have found that time spent 
 in the house of temporal captivity may be so employed as to 
 redeem us from spiritual slavery. 
 
 " I apprehend your meaning, sir,'' replied the Queen, 
 " but I have heard your apostle — I have heard Master John 
 Knox ; and were I to be perverted, I would willingly resign 
 to the ablest and most powerful of heresiarchs the poor honor 
 he might acquire by overcoming my faith and my hope." 
 
 '* Madam," said the preacher, "it is not to the talents 
 or skill of the husbandman that God gives the increase : the 
 words which were offered in vain by him whom you justly 
 call our apostle, during the bustle and gaiety of a court, 
 may yet find better acceptance during the leisure for reflec- 
 tion which this place affords. God knows, lady, that I speak 
 in singleness of heart, as one who would as soon compare 
 himself to the immortal angels as to the holy man whom 
 you have named. Yet would you but condescend to apply 
 to their noblest use those talents and that learning which all 
 allow you to be possessed of — would you afford us but the 
 slightest hope that you would hear and regard what can be 
 urged against the blinded superstition and idolatry in which 
 you were brought up, sure am I, that the most powerfully 
 gifted of my brethren, that even John Knox himself, would 
 hasten hither, and account the rescue of your single soul 
 from the nets of Komish error " 
 
 " I am obliged to you and to them for their charity," said 
 Mary ; *' but as I have at present but one presence-chamber, 
 I would reluctantly see it converted into a Huguenot synod." 
 
 *' At least, madam, be not thus obstinately blinded in 
 your errors ! Hear one who has hungered and thirsted, 
 watched and prayed, to undertake the good work of your 
 conversion, and who would be content to die the instant that 
 a work so advantageous for yourself and so beneficial to 
 Scotland were accomplished. Yes, lady, could I but shake 
 
THE ABBOT 267 
 
 the remaining pillar of the heathen temple in this land — 
 and that permit me to term your faith in the delusions of 
 Kome — I could be content to die overwhelmed in the ruins ! " 
 
 " I will not insult your zeal, sir/^ replied Mary, '' by 
 saying you are more likely to make sport for the Philistines 
 than to overwhelm them : your charity claims my thanks, 
 for it is warmly expressed, and may be truly purposed. But 
 believe as well of me as I am willing to do of you, and think 
 that I may be as anxious to recall you to the ancient and 
 only road as you are to teach mo your new bye-ways to 
 Paradise." 
 
 ^' Then, madam, if such be your generous purpose," said 
 Henderson, eagerly, *' what hinders that we should dedicate 
 some part of that time unhappily now too much at your 
 Grace's disposal to discuss a question so weighty ? You by 
 report of all men are both learned and witty ; and I, tliough 
 without such advantages, am strong in my cause as in a 
 tower of defense. Why should we not spend some space in 
 endeavoring to discover which of us hath the wrong side in 
 this important matter ? " 
 
 ** Nay," said Queen Mary, " I never alleged my force was>* 
 strong enough to accept of a combat en chamj) clos with a 
 scholar and a polemic. Besides, the match is not equal. 
 You, sir, might retire when you felt the battle go against 
 you, while I am tied to the stake, and have no permission to 
 say the debate wearies me. I would be alone." 
 
 She courtesied low to him as she uttered these words ; and 
 Henderson, whose zeal was indeed ardent, but did not ex- 
 tend to the neglect of delicacy, bowed in return, and prepared 
 to withdraw. 
 
 " I would," he said, *' that my earnest wish, my most 
 zealous prayer, could procure to your Grace any blessing or 
 comfort, but especially that in which alone blessing or com- 
 fort is, as easily as the slightest intimation of your wish will 
 remove me from your presence." 
 
 He was in the act of departing, when Mary said to him 
 with much courtesy, ^' Do me no injury in your thoughts, 
 good sir ; it may be, that if my time here be protracted 
 longer — as surely I hope it will not, trusting that either my 
 rebel subjects will repent of their disloyalty, or that my 
 faithful lieges will obtain the upper hand — but if my time 
 be here protracted, it may be I shall have no displeasure in 
 hearing one who seems so reasonable and compassionate as 
 yourself, and I may hazard your contempt by endeavoring 
 to recollect and repeat the reasons which schoolmen and 
 
268 WAVEELET NOVELS 
 
 councils give for the faith that is in me, although I fear 
 that, God help me ! my Latin has deserted me with my 
 other possessions. This must, however, be for another day. 
 Meanwhile, sir, let the Lady of Lochleven employ my page 
 as she lists ; I will not afford suspicion by speaking a word 
 to him before he goes. Koland Graeme, my friend, lose not 
 an opportunity of amusing thyself : dance, sing, run, and 
 leap — all may be done merrily on the mainland ; but he 
 must have more than quicksilver in his veins who would frolic 
 here.'' 
 
 "Alas! madam,'* said the preacher, "to what is it you 
 exhort the youth, while time passes and eternity summons ! 
 Can our salvation be insured by idle mirth, or our good 
 work wrought out without fear and trembling ?" 
 
 " I cannot fear or tremble," replied the Queen : " to Mary 
 Stuart such emotions are unknown. But, if weeping and 
 sorrow on my part will atone for the boy's enjoying an hour 
 of boyish pleasure, be assured the penance shall be duly 
 
 "Nay, but, gracious lady," said the preacher, "in this 
 .you greatly err : our tears and our sorrows are all too little 
 for our own faults and follies, nor can we transfer them, as 
 your church falsely teaches, to the benefit of others." 
 
 " May I pray you, sir," answered the Queen, *' with as 
 little offense as such a prayer may import, to transfer your- 
 self elsewhere ? We are sick at heart, and may not now be 
 disturbed with further controversy ; and thou, Eoland, take 
 this little purse " — then turning to the divine, she said, show- 
 ing its contents, — "Look, reverend sir, it contains only 
 these two or three gold testoons — a coin which, though 
 bearing my own poor features, I have ever found more active 
 against me than on my side, just as my subjects take arms 
 against me, with my own name for their summons and 
 signal. Take this purse that thou mayst want no means of 
 amusement. Fail not — fail not to bring me back news from 
 Kinross ; only let it be such as, without suspicion or offense, 
 may be told in the presence of this reverend gentleman, or 
 of the good Lady Lochleven herself." 
 
 The last hint was too irresistible to be withstood ; and 
 Henderson withdrew, half-mortified, half-pleased with his 
 reception ; for Mary, from long habit and the address which 
 was natural to her, had learned, in an extraordinary degree, 
 the art of evading discourse which was disagreeable to her 
 feelings or prejudices, without affronting those by whom it 
 was proffered. 
 
THE ABBOT 26i) 
 
 Eoland Graeme retired with the chaplain at a signal from 
 his lady ; but it did not escape him that, as he left the room, 
 stepping backwards and making the deep obeisance due to 
 royalty, Catherine Sey ton held up her slender forefinger, with 
 a gesture which he alone could witness, and which seemed 
 to say, '' Remember what has passed betwixt us/' 
 
 The young page had now his last charge from the Lady of 
 Lochleven. " There are revels,'^ she said, '' this day at the 
 village. My son's authority is, as yet, unable to prevent 
 these continued workings of the ancient leaven of folly which 
 the Romish priests have kneaded into the very souls of the 
 Scottish peasantry. I do not command thee to abstain 
 from them — that would be only to lay a snare for thy 
 folly, or to teach thee falsehood ; but enjoy these vanities 
 with moderation, and mark them as something thou must 
 soon learn to renounce and contemn. Our chamberlain at 
 Kinross, Luke Lundin — Doctor, as he foolishly calleth 
 himself — will acquaint thee what is to be done in the matter 
 about which thou goest. Remember thou art trusted ; show 
 thyself, therefore, worthy of trust." 
 
 When we recollect that Roland Graeme was not yet nine- 
 teen, and that he had spent his whole life in the solitary 
 Castle of Avenel, excepting the few hours he had passed in 
 Edinburgh, and his late residence at Lochleven, the latter 
 period having very little served to enlarge his acquaintance 
 with the gay world, we cannot wonder that his heart beat 
 high with hope and curiosity at the prospect of partaking 
 the sport even of a country wake. He hastened to his little 
 cabin, and turned over the wardrobe with which, in every 
 respect becoming his station, he had been supplied from 
 Edinburgh, probably by order of the Earl of Murray. By 
 the Queen's command he had hitherto waited upon her in 
 mourning, or at least in sad-colored raiment. Her condition, 
 she said, admitted of nothing more gay. But now he selected 
 the gayest dress his wardrobe afforded, composed of scarlet, 
 slashed with black satin — the royal colors of Scotland ; 
 combed his long curled hair ; disposed his chain and medal 
 round a beaver hat of the newest block ; and with the gay 
 falchion which had reached him in so mysterious a manner 
 hung by his side in an embroidered belt, his apparel, added 
 to his natural frank mien and handsome figure, formed a 
 most commendable and pleasing specimen of the young 
 gallant of the period. He sought to make his parting rev- 
 erence to the Queen and her ladies, but old Dryfesdale 
 hurried him to the boat. 
 
270 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 te 
 
 We will have no private andiences," he said, " my 
 master ; since you are to be trusted with somewhat, we will 
 try at least to save thee from the temptation of opportunity. 
 God help thee, child," he added, with a glance of contempt 
 at his gay clothes, " an the bear-ward be yonder from St. 
 Andrews, have a care thou go not near him." 
 
 ^^ And wherefore, I pray you ?" said Roland. 
 
 *'Lest he take thee for one of his runaway jackanapes,'' 
 answered the steward, smiling sourly. 
 
 " I wear not my clothes at thy cost," said Roland, indig- 
 nantly. 
 
 *' Nor at thine own either, my son," replied the steward, 
 '^ else would thy garb more nearly resemble thy merit and 
 thy station." 
 
 Roland Graeme suppressed with difficulty the repartee 
 which arose to his lips, and, wrapping his scarlet mantle 
 around him, threw himself into the boat, which two rowers, 
 themselves urged by curiosity to see the revels, pulled stoutly 
 towards the west end of the lake. As they put off, Roland 
 thought he could discover the face of Catherine Seyton, 
 though carefully withdrawn from observation, peeping from 
 a loophole to view his departure. He pulled off his hat, and 
 held it up as a token that he saw and wished her adieu. A 
 white kerchief waved for a second across the window, and 
 for the rest of the little voyage the thoughts of Catherine 
 Seyton disputed ground in his breast with the expectations 
 excited by the approaching revel. As they drew nearer and 
 nearer the shore, the sounds of mirth and music, the laugh, 
 the halloo, and the shout came thicker upon the ear, and in 
 a trice the boat was moored, and Roland Graeme hastened 
 in quest of the chamberlain, that, being informed what time 
 he had at his own disposal, he might lay it out to the best 
 advantage. 
 
CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 Room for the master of the ring, ye swains, 
 Divide your crowded ranks ; before him march 
 The rural minstrelsy, the rattling drum, 
 The clamorous war-pipe, and far-echoing horn. 
 
 SoMERViLLE, Rural Sports. 
 
 No long space intervened ere Roland Graeme was able to dis- 
 cover among the crowd of revelers, who gamboled upon the 
 open space which extends betwixt the village and the lake, a 
 person of so great importance as Doctor Luke Lundin upon 
 whom devolved officially the charge of representing the 
 lord of the land, and who was attended for support of his 
 authority by a piper, a drummer, and four sturdy clowns 
 armed with rusty halberds, garnished with parti-colored 
 ribbons — myrmidons who, early as the day was, had already 
 broken more than one head in the awful names of the Laird 
 of Lochleven and his chamberlain.* 
 
 As soon as this dignitary was informed that the castle 
 skiff had arrived, with a gallant, dressed like a lord's son at 
 the least, who desired presently to speak to him, he ad- 
 justed his ruff and his black coat, turned round his girdle 
 till the garnished hilt of his long rapier became visible, and 
 walked with due solemnity towards the beach. Solemn in- 
 deed he was entitled to be, even on less important occasions, 
 for he had been bred to the venerable study of medicine, as 
 those acquainted with the science very soon discovered from 
 the aphorisms which ornamented his discourse. His success 
 had not been equal to his pretensions ; but as he was a 
 native of the neighboring kingdom of Fife, and bore distant 
 relation to, or dependence upon, the ancient family of Lun- 
 din of that ilk, who were bound in close friendship with the 
 house of Lochleven, he had, through their interest, got 
 planted comfortably enough in his present station upon the 
 banks of that beautiful lake. The profits of his chamber- 
 lainship being moderate, especially in those unsettled times, 
 he had eked it out a little with some practise in his original 
 profession ; and it was said that the inhabitants of the vil" 
 
 * See Scottish Fairs. Note 18. 
 271 
 
272 WAVERLET NOVELS 
 
 lage and barony of Kinross were not more effectually thirled 
 (which may be translated enthralled) to the baron^s mill than 
 they were to the medical monopoly of the chamberlain. 
 Wo betide the family of the rich boor who presumed to de- 
 part this life without a passport from Dr. Luke Lundin I 
 for if his representacives had aught to settle with the baron, 
 as it seldom happened otherwise, they were sure to find a 
 cold friend in the chamberlain. He was considered enough, 
 however, gratuitously to help the poor out of their ailments, 
 and sometimes out of all their other distresses at the same 
 time. 
 
 Formal, in a double proportion, both as a physician and 
 as a person in office, and proud of the scraps of learning 
 which rendered his language almost universally unintelligible. 
 Dr. Luke Lundin approached the beach, and hailed the page 
 as he advanced towards him. '* The freshness of the morn- 
 ing to you, fair sir. You are sent, I warrant me, to see if we 
 observe here the regimen which her good ladyship hath pre- 
 scribed, for eschewing all superstitious ceremonies and idle 
 anilities in these our revels. I am aware that her good lady- 
 ship would willingly have altogether abolished and abrogated 
 them. But as I had the honor to quote to her from the 
 works of the learned Hercules of Saxony, ofnnis curatio est 
 vel cajionica vel coacta — that is, fair sir — for silk and velvet 
 have seldom their Latin ad unguem — every cure must be 
 wrought either by art and induction of rule or by constraint ; 
 and the wise physician chooseth the former. Which argu- 
 ment her ladyship being pleased to allow well of, I have made 
 it my business so to blend instruction and caution with delight 
 —flat mixtio, as we say — that I can answer that the vulgar 
 mind will be defecated and purged of anile and Popish fool- 
 eries by the medicament adhibited, so that the prhncB vice 
 being cleansed, Master Henderson, or any other able pastor, 
 may at will throw in tonics, and effectuate a perfect moral 
 cure, tuto, cito, jummde.'^ 
 
 " I have no charge, Doctor Lundin,^' replied the page 
 
 " Call me not doctor,'^ said the chamberlain, '' since I have 
 laid aside my furred gown and bonnet, and retired me into 
 bhis temporality of chamberlainship.'' 
 
 '* 0, sir," said the page, who was no stranger by report to 
 the character of this original, ^' the cowl makes not the monk, 
 neither the cord the friar : we have all heard of the cures 
 wrought by Doctor Lundin." 
 
 "Toys, young sir — trifles," answered the leech with grave 
 disclamation of superior skill ; " the hit-or-miss practise of 
 
THE ABBOT 273 
 
 a poor retired gentleman, in a short cloak and doublet. 
 Marry, Heaven sent its blessing ; and this I must say, better 
 fashioned mediciners have brought fewer patients through — 
 lunga roba cortd scienzia, saith the Italian — ha, fair sir, you 
 have the language ? '' 
 
 Roland Graeme did not think it necessary to expound to 
 this learned Theban whether he understood him or no ; but, 
 leaving that matter uncertain, he told him he came in quest 
 of certain packages which should have arrived at Kinross 
 and been placed under the chamberlain^s charge the evening 
 before. 
 
 " Body o' me ! " said Doctor Lundin, ^' I fear our common 
 carrier, John Auchtermuchty, hath met with some mischance, 
 that he came not up last night with his wains : bad land this 
 to journey in, my master ; and the fool will travel by night 
 too, although — besides all maladies, from your tussis to your 
 pestis, which walk abroad in the night air — he may well fall 
 in with half a dozen swashbucklers, who will ease him at once 
 of his baggage and his earthly complaints. I must send 
 forth to inquire after him, since he hath stuff of the honor- 
 able household on hand ; and, by Our Lady, he hath stuff 
 of mine too — certain drugs sent me from the city for com- 
 position of my alexipharmics ; this gear must be looked to. 
 Hodge,'' said he, addressing one of redoubted bodyguard, 
 *' do thou and Toby Telford take the mickle brown aver and 
 the black cut-tailed mare, and make out towards the Keiry 
 Craigs,* and see what tidings you can have of Auchtermuchty 
 and his wains ; I trust it is only the medicine of the pottle- 
 pot — being the only medicamenturn which the beast useth — - 
 which has caused him to tarry on the road. Take the 
 ribbons from your halberds, ye knaves, and get on your jacks, 
 plate-sleeves, and knapsculls, that your presence may work 
 some terror if you meet with opposers.'' He then added, 
 turning to Roland Graeme, " I warrant me we shall have 
 news of the wains in brief season. Meantime it will please 
 you to look upon the sports ; but first to enter my poor lodg- 
 ing and take your morning's cup. For what saith the school 
 of Salerno — 
 
 Poculum, name haustum, 
 Resturat naturam exhaustam ? " 
 
 *' Your learning is too profound for me," replied the page ; 
 "and so would your draught be likewise, I fear." 
 ** Not a whit, fair sir : a cordial cup of sack, impregnated 
 
 * See Note 19. 
 i8 
 
•^74 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 with wormwood, is the best anti-pestilential draught ; and, 
 to speak truth, the pestilential miasmata are now very rife 
 in the atmosphere. We live in a happy time, young man," 
 continued he, in a tone of grave irony, ^'^and have many 
 blessings unknown to our fathers. Here are two sovereigns 
 in the land, a regnant and a claimant ; that is enough of 
 one good thing, but, if any one wants more, he may find a 
 king in every peel-house in the country ; so, if we lack 
 government, it is not for want of governors. Then have we 
 a civil war to phlebotomize us every year, and to prevent 
 our population from starving for want of food ; and for the 
 same purpose we have the plague proposing us a visit, the 
 best of all recipes for thinning aland, and converting younger 
 brothers into elder ones. Well, each man in his vocation. 
 You young fellows of the sword desire to wrestle, fence, 
 or so forth with some expert adversary ; and for my part, 
 I love to match myself for life or death against that same 
 plague.'* 
 
 As they proceeded up the street of the little village to- 
 wards the doctor's lodgings, his attention was successively 
 occupied by the various personages whom he met, and 
 pointed out to the notice of his companion. 
 
 '^ Do you see that fellow with the red bonnet, the blue 
 jerkin, and the great rough baton in his hand ? I believe 
 that clown hath the strength of a tower : he has lived fifty 
 years in the world, and never encouraged the liberal sciences 
 by buying one pennyworth of medicaments. But see you 
 that man with ih.Q fades Hippoc^-atica?" said he, pointing 
 out to a thin peasant, with swelled legs, and a most cadaver- 
 ous countenance ; *^that I call one of the worthiest men in 
 the barony : he breakfasts, luncheons, dines, and sups by 
 my advice, and not without my medicine ; and, for his own 
 single part, will go farther to clear out a moderate stock of 
 pharmaceutics than half the country besides. How do 
 you, my honest friend ? '' said he to the party in question, 
 with a tone of condolence. 
 
 " Very weakly, sir, since I took the electuary,'' answered 
 the patient ; '* it neighbored ill with the two spoonfuls of 
 pease-porridge and the kirn-milk." 
 
 ^' Pease-porridge and kirn-milk ! Have you been under 
 medicine these ten years, and keep your diet so ill ? The 
 next morning take the electuary by itself, and touch 
 nothing for six hours." The poor object bowed and limped 
 off. 
 
 Thf n<8?t whoui the doctor deigned to take notice of wa|i 
 
THE ABBOT 275 
 
 a lame fellow, by whom the honor was altogether unde- 
 served, for at sight of the mediciner he began to shuffle 
 away in the crowd as fast as his infirmities would permit. 
 
 *' There is an ungrateful hound for you,^"* said Doctor 
 Lundin : " I cured him of the gout in his feet, and now he 
 talks of the chargeableness of medicine, and makes the first 
 use of his restored legs to fiy from his physician. His 
 podagra hath become a chiragra, as honest Martial hath it : 
 the gout has got into his fingers, and he cannot draw his 
 purse. Old saying and true — 
 
 PrsBmia cum poscit medicus, Sathan est. 
 
 We are angels when we come to cure, devils when we ask 
 payment ; but I will administer a purgation to his purse, 1 
 warrant him. There is his brother too, a sordid chuff. So 
 ho, there ! Saunders Dartlet ! you have been ill, I hear ? " 
 
 "Just got the .turn, as I was thinking to send to your 
 honor, and I am brawly now again ; it was nae great thing 
 that ailed me.'' 
 
 " Hark you, sirrah,'' said the doctor, '^ I trust you re- 
 member your owing to the laird four stones of barley-meal 
 and a bow of oats ; and I would have you send no more such 
 kain-fowls as you sent last season, that looked as wretchedly 
 as patients just dismissed from a plague-hospital ; and there 
 is hard money owing besides." 
 
 *' I was thinking, sir," said the man, more Scotico, that is, 
 returning no direct answer on the subject on which he was 
 addressed, " my best way would be to come down to your 
 honor, and take your advice yet, in case my trouble should 
 come back." 
 
 "Do so then, knave," replied Lundin, "and remember 
 what Bcclesiasticus saith — * Give place to the physician : let 
 him not go from thee, for thou hast need of him.'" 
 
 His exhortation was interrupted by an apparition which 
 seemed to strike the doctor with as much horror and surprise 
 as his own visage inflicted upon sundry of those persons 
 whom he had addressed. 
 
 The figure which produced this effect on the Esculapius 
 of the village was that of a tall old woman, who wore a high- 
 crowned hat and muffler. The first of these habiliments 
 added apparently to her stature, and the other served to 
 conceal the lower part of her face, and as the hat itself was 
 slouched, little could be seen besides two brown cheek-bones, 
 and the eyes of swarthy fire, that gleamed from under tira 
 
276 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 shaggy gray eyebrows. She was dressed in a long dark 
 colored robe of unusual fashion, bordered at the skirts and 
 on the stomacher with a sort of white trimming resembling 
 the Jewish phylacteries, on which was wrought the char- 
 acters of some unknown language. She held in her hand a 
 walking-staff of black ebony. 
 
 " By the soul of Celsus," said Doctor Luke Lundin, "it 
 is old Mother Nicneven herself ; she hath come to beard me 
 within mine own bounds, and in the very execution of mine 
 office ! * Have at thy coat, old woman,' as the song says. 
 Hob Anster, let her presently be seized and committed to 
 the tolboth ; and if there are any zealous brethren here 
 who would give the hag her deserts, and duck her, as a 
 witch, in the loch, I pray let them in no way be hindered." 
 
 But the myrmidons of Doctor Lundin showed in this case 
 no alacrity to do his bidding. Hob Anster even ventured 
 to remonstrate in the name of himself and his brethren. 
 " To be sure he was to do his honor's bidding ; and for a' 
 that folk said about the skill and witcheries of Mother 
 Nicneven, he would put his trust in God, and his hand on 
 her collar, without dreadour. But she was no common 
 spae-wife, this Mother Nicneven, like Jean Jopp that lived 
 in the Brierie Baulk. She had lords and lairds that would 
 ruffle for her. There was Moncriefl of Tippermalloch, that 
 was Popish, and the laird of Carslogie, a kenn'd queens- 
 man, were in the fair, with wha kenn'd how mony swords 
 and bucklers at their back ; .and they would be sure to 
 make a break-out if the officers meddled with the auld 
 Popish witch-wife, who was sae weel friended ; mair espe- 
 cially as the laird's best men, such as were not in the castle, 
 were in Edinburgh with him, and he doubted his honor the 
 doctor would find ower few to make a good backing if blades 
 were bare." 
 
 The doctor listened unwillingly to this prudential counsel, 
 and was only comforted by the faithful promise of his satel- 
 lite that " The old woman should," as he expressed it, "be 
 ta'en canny the next time she trespassed on the bounds." 
 
 " And in that event," said the doctor to his companion, 
 "fire and fagot shall be the best of her welcome." 
 
 This he spoke in hearing of the dame herself, who even 
 then, and in passing the doctor, shot towards him from 
 under her gray eyebrows a look of the most insulting and 
 contemptuous superiority. 
 
 "This way," continued the physician — "this way," mar- 
 ghaling his guest into his lodging ; "take care you stumble 
 
THE ABBOT 277 
 
 Hot over a retort, for it is hazardous for the ignorant to 
 walk in the ways of art." 
 
 The page found all reason for the caution ; for, besides 
 stuffed birds, and lizards, and bottled snakes, and bundles of 
 simples made up, and other parcels spread out to dry, and 
 all the confusion, not to mention the mingled and sicken- 
 ing smells, incidental to a druggist's stock-in-trade, he had 
 also to avoid heaps of charcoal, crucibles, bolt-heads, stoves, 
 and the other furniture of a chemical laboratory. 
 
 Amongst his other philosophical qualities, Doctor Lundin 
 failed not to be a confused sloven, and his old housekeeper, 
 whose life, as she said, was spent in *^ redding him up," had 
 trotted off to the mart of gaiety with other and younger 
 folks. Much clattering and jangling therefore there was 
 among jars, and bottles, and phials, ere the doctor produced 
 the salutiferous potion which he recommended so strongly, 
 and a search equally long and noisy followed among broken 
 cans and cracked pipkins ere he could bring forth a cup out 
 of which to drink it. Both matters being at length achieved, 
 the doctor set the example to his guest, by quaffing off a 
 cup of the cordial, and smacking his lips with approbation 
 as it descended his gullet. Eoland, in turn, submitted to 
 swallow the potion which his host so earnestly recommended, 
 but which he found so insufferably bitter that he became 
 eager to escape from the laboratory in search of a draught 
 of fair water to expel the taste. In spite of his efforts, he 
 was nevertheless detained by the garrulity of his host, till 
 he gave him some account of Mother Nicneven. 
 
 *^ I care not to speak of her," said the doctor, '^ in the 
 open air, and among the throng of people : not for fright, 
 like yon cowardly dog, Anster, but because I would give no 
 occasion for a fray, having no leisure to look to stabs, 
 slashes, and broken bones. Men call the old hag a prophet- 
 ess ; I do scarce believe she could foretell when a brood of 
 chickens will chip the shell. Men say she reads the heavens ; 
 my black bitch knows as much of them when she sits bay- 
 ing the moon. Men pretend the ancient wretch is a sorcer- 
 ess, a witch, and what not ; inter nos, I will never contra- 
 dict a rumor which may bring her to the stake which she 
 so richly deserves, but neither will I believe that the tales 
 of witches which they din into our ears are aught but 
 knavery, cozenage, and old women's fables." 
 
 •'* In the name of Heaven, what is she then," said the 
 page, " that you make such a stir about her ? " 
 
 **She is one of those cursed old women," replied th» 
 
278 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 doctor, ''who take currently and impudently upon them- 
 selves to act as advisers and curers of tfie sick, on the strength 
 of some trash of herbs, some rhyme of spells, some julep or 
 diet, drink or cordial." 
 
 " Nay, go no farther," said the page ; "if they brew 
 cordials, evil be their lot and all their partakers ! " 
 
 *' You say well, young man," said Doctor Lundin ; '* for 
 inine own part, I know no such pests to the commonwealth 
 as these old incarnate devils, who haunt the chambers of the 
 brain-sick patients, that are mad enough to suffer them to 
 interfere with, disturb, and let the regular progress of a 
 learned and artificial cure, with their syrups, and their 
 juleps, and diascordium, and mithridate, and my Lady 
 What-shall-calFum's powder, and worthy Dame Trashem's 
 pill ; and thus make widows and orphans, and cheat the 
 regular and well-studied physician, in order to get the name 
 of wise women and skeely neighbors, and so forth. But 
 no more on't. Mother Nicneven * and I will meet one 
 day, and she shall know there is danger in dealing with tlie 
 doctor." 
 
 *' It is a true word, and many have found it," said the 
 page; '^but, under your favor, I would fain walk abroad 
 for a little and see these sports." 
 
 " It is well moved," said the doctor, ^' and I too should 
 be showing myself abroad. Moreover, the play waits us, 
 young man ; to-day, totus mundus agit histrionem/' And 
 they sallied forth accordingly into the mirthful scene. 
 
 ♦ See Note 20. 
 
CHAPTEK XXVII 
 
 See on yon verdant lawn, the gathering crowd 
 Thickens amain ; the buxom nymphs advance, 
 [Jsher'd by jolly clowns ; distinctions cease, 
 Lost in the common joy, and the bold slave 
 Leans on his wealthy master unreproved. 
 
 SoMERViLLE, Rural Sports, 
 
 The reappearance of the dignified chamberlain on the 
 street of the village was eagerly hailed by the revelers, as a 
 pledge that the play, or dramatic representation, which had 
 been postponed owing to his absence, was now full surely to 
 commence. Anything like an approach to this most interest- 
 ing of all amusements was of recent origin in Scotland, and 
 engaged public attention in proportion. All other sports 
 were discontinued. The dance around the Maypole was 
 arrested, the ring broken up and dispersed, while the dancers, 
 each leading his partner by the hand, tripped off to the sylvan 
 ^theater. A truce was in like manner achieved betwixt a huge 
 thrown bear and certain mastiffs, who were tugging and 
 ^fpulling at his shaggy coat, under the mediation of the bear- 
 ward and half a dozen butchers and yeomen, who, by dint 
 of " staving and tailing,^' as it was technically termed, 
 separated the unfortunate animals, whose fury had for an 
 hour past been their chief amusement. The itinerant min- 
 strel found himself deserted by the audience he had collected, 
 even in the most interesting passage of the romance which 
 he recited, and just as he was sending about his boy, with 
 bonnet in hand, to collect their oblations. He indignantly 
 stopped short in the midst of Rosewal and Lilian, and, re- 
 placing his three-stringed fiddle, or rebeck, in its leathern 
 case, followed the crowd, with no good-will, to the exhibition 
 which had superseded his own. The juggler had ceased his 
 exertions of emitting flame and smoke, and was content to 
 respire in the manner of ordinary mortals rather than to 
 play gratuitously the part of a fiery dragon. In short, all 
 other sports were suspended, so eagerly did the revelers 
 throng towards the place of representation. 
 
 They would err greatly who should regulate their ideas of 
 this dramatic exhibition upon those derived from a modern 
 
 279 
 
280 WA VERLE Y NO VEL S 
 
 theater ; for the rude shows of Thespis were far less different 
 from those exhibited by Euripides on the stage of Athens, 
 with all its magnificent decorations and pomp of dresses and 
 of scenery. In the present case there were no scenes, no 
 stage, no machinery, no pit, box, and gallery, no box-lobby ; 
 and, what might in poor Scotland be some consolation for 
 other negations, there was no taking of money at the door. 
 As in the devices of the magnanimous Bottom, the actors had 
 a greensward plot for a stage, and a hawthorn bush for a 
 greenroom and tiring-house ; the spectators being accommo- 
 dated with seats on the artificial bank which had been raised 
 around three-fourths of the playground, the remainder being 
 left open for the entrance and exit of the performers. Here 
 sate the uncritical audience, the chamberlain in the center, 
 as the person highest in office — all alive to enjoyment and 
 admiration, and all therefore dead to criticism. 
 
 The characters which appeared and disappeared before the 
 amused and interested audience were those which fill the 
 earlier stage in, all nations — old men, cheated by their wives 
 and daughters, pillaged by their sons, and imposed on by 
 their domestics, a braggadocio captain, a knavish pardoner 
 or quaestionary, a country bumpkin, and a wanton city dame. 
 Amid all these, and more acceptable than almost the whole 
 put together, was the all-licensed fool, the Gracioso of the 
 Spanish drama, who, with his cap fashioned into the resem- 
 blance of a coxcomb, and his bauble, a truncheon terminated 
 by a carved figure, wearing a fool^s cap, in his hand, went, 
 came, and returned, mingling in every scene of the piece, 
 and interrupting the business, without having any share him- 
 self in the action, and ever and anon transfering his gibes 
 from the actors on the stage to the audience who sat around, 
 prompt to applaud the whole. 
 
 The wit of the piece, which was not of the most polished 
 kind, was chiefly directed against the superstitious practises 
 of the Catholic religion ; and the stage artillery had on this 
 occasion been leveled by no less a person than Doctor Lun- 
 din, who had not only commanded the manager of the en- 
 tertainment to select one of the numerous satires which had 
 been written against the Papists (several of which were cast 
 in a dramatic form), but had even, like the Prince of Den- 
 mark, caused them to insert, or, according to his own phrase, 
 to infuse, here and there, a few pleasantries of his own 
 penning, on the same inexhaustible subject, hoping thereby 
 to mollify the rigor of the Lady of Lochleven towards pas- 
 times of this description. Ho failed not to jog Koland's 
 
TBE ABBOT 281 
 
 elbow, who was sitting in state behind him, and recommend 
 to his particular attention those favorite passages. As for 
 the page, to whom the very idea of such an exhibition, simple 
 as it was, was entirely new, he beheld it with the undimin- 
 ished and ecstatic delight with which men of all ranks look 
 for the first time on dramatic representation, and laughed, 
 shouted, and clapped his hands as the performance proceeded. 
 An incident at length took place which effectually broke off 
 his interest in the business of the scene. 
 
 One of the principal personages in the comic part of the 
 drama was, as we have already said, a quaestionary or pardoner, 
 one of those itinerants who hawked about from place to place 
 relics, real or pretended, with which he excited the devotion 
 at once and the charity of the populace, and generally de- 
 ceived both the one and the other. The hypocrisy, impu- 
 dence, and profligacy of these clerical wanderers had made 
 them the subject of satire from the time of Chaucer down to 
 that of Hey wood. Their present representative failed not to 
 follow the same line of humor, exhibiting pig's bones for 
 relics, and boasting the virtues of small tin crosses, which 
 had been shaken in the holy porringer at Loretto, and of 
 cockle-shells, which had been brought from the shrine of 
 St. James of Compostella, all which he disposed of to the 
 devout Catholics at nearly as high a price as antiquaries are 
 now willing to pay for the baubles of similar intrinsic value. 
 A length the pardoner pulled from his scrip a small phial of 
 clear water, of which he vaunted the quality in the following 
 verses : — 
 
 " Listneth, gode people, everiche one. 
 For in the londe of Babylone, 
 Far eastward I wot it lyeth, 
 And is the first londe the sonne espieth, 
 Ther, as he cometh fro out the se ; 
 In this ilk londe, as thinketh me, 
 Right as holie legendes tell, 
 Snottreth from a roke a well, 
 And falleth into ane bath of ston, 
 Wher chast Susanne, in times lon^ gon 
 Was wont to wash her bodie and um. 
 Mickle virtue hath that streme, 
 As ye shall se er that ye pas, 
 Ensample by this little glas. 
 Through nightes cold and dayes hote, 
 Hiderward I have it brought ; 
 Hath a wife made slip or slide, 
 Or a maiden stepp'd aside, 
 Putteth this water under her nese, 
 Wold she nold she, she shall snese." 
 
282 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 The jest, as the reader skilful in the antique language of 
 the drama must at once perceive, turned on the same pivot 
 as in the old minstrel tales of the Drmking-Horn of King 
 Arthur and the Mantle made Amiss. But the audience were 
 neither learned nor critical enough to challenge its want of 
 originality. The potent relic was, after such grimace and 
 buffoonery as befitted the subject, presented successively to 
 each of the female personages of the drama, not one of whom 
 sustained the supposed test of discretion ; but, to the infinite 
 delight of the audience, sneexed much louder and longer 
 than perhaps they themselves had counted on. The jest 
 seemed at last worn threadbare, and the pardoner was pass- 
 ing on to some new pleasantry, when the jester or clown of 
 the drama, possessing himself secretly of the phial which 
 contained the wondrous liquor, applied it suddenly to the 
 nose of a young woman, who, with her black silk muffler, or 
 screen, drawn over her face, was sitting in the foremost rank 
 of the spectators, intent apparently upon the business of the 
 stage. The contents of the phial, well calculated to sustain 
 the credit of the pardoner's legend, set the damsel a-sneezing 
 violently, an admission of frailty which was received with 
 shouts of rapture by the audience. These were soon, how- 
 ever, renewed at the expense of the jester himself, when the 
 insulted maiden extricated, ere the paroxysm was well over, 
 one hand from the folds of her mantle, and bestowed on the 
 wag a buffet, which made him reel fully his own length from 
 the pardoner, and then acknowledge the favor by instant 
 prostration. 
 
 No one pities a jester overcome in his vocation, and the 
 clown met with little sympathy when, rising from the ground 
 and whimpering forth his complaints of harsh treatment, he 
 invoked the assistance and sympathy of the audience. But 
 the chamberlain, feeling his own dignity insulted, ordered 
 two of his halberdiers to bring the culprit before him. When 
 these official persons first approached the virago, she threw 
 herself into an attitude of firm defiance, as if determined to 
 resist their authority ; and from the sample of strength and 
 spirit which she had already displayed, they showed no 
 alacrity at executing their commission. But on half a 
 minute's reflection, the damsel changed totally her attitude 
 and manner, folded her cloak around her arms in modest and 
 maiden-like fashion, and walked of her own accord to the 
 presence of the great man, followed and guarded by the two 
 manful satellites. As she moved across the vacant space, 
 and more especially as she stood at the footstool of the doe- 
 
THE ABBOT 283 
 
 tor's judgment -seat, the maiden discovered that lightness and 
 elasticity of step, and natural grace of manner, which con- 
 noisseurs in female beauty know to be seldom divided from 
 it. Moreover, her neat russet-colored jacket, and short pet- 
 ticoat of the same color, displayed a handsome form and a 
 pretty leg. Her features were concealed by the screen ; but 
 the doctor, whose gravity did not prevent his pretensions to 
 be a connoisseur of the school we have hinted at, saw enough 
 to judge favorably of the piece by the sample. 
 
 He began, however, with considerable austerity of manner. 
 " And how now, saucy quean ! " said the medical man of 
 office ; *' what have you to say why I should not order you 
 to be ducked in the loch for lifting your hand to the man in 
 my presence ? " 
 
 *' Marry,'' replied the culprit, " because I judge that 
 your honor will not think the cold bath necessary for my 
 complaints." 
 
 *^ A pestilent jade," said the doctor, whispering to Koland 
 Graeme, ''and Til warrant her a good one : her voice is as 
 sweet as sirup. But, my pretty maiden," said he, ''you 
 show us wonderful little of that countenance of yours ; be 
 pleased to throw aside your muffler." 
 
 " I trust your honor will excuse me till we are more pri- 
 vate," answered the maiden ; " for I have acquaintance, and 
 I should like ill to be known in the country as the poor girl 
 whom that scurvy knave put his jest upon." 
 
 " Fear nothing for thy good name, my sweet little modi- 
 cum of candied manna !" replied the doctor ; "for I protest 
 to you, as I am chamberlain of Lochleven, Kinross, and so 
 forth, that the chaste Susanna herself could not have snuffed 
 that elixir without sternutation, being in truth a curious 
 distillation of rectified acetum, or vinegar of the sun, pre- 
 pared by mine own hands. Wherefore, as thou sayest thou 
 wilt come to me in private, and express thy contrition for the 
 offense whereof thou hast been guilty, I command that all 
 for the present go forward as if no such interruption of the 
 prescribed course had taken place." 
 
 The damsel courtesied and tripped back to her place. The 
 play proceeded, but it no longer attracted the attention of 
 Eoland Graeme. 
 
 The voice, the figure, and what the veil permitted to be 
 seen of the neck and tresses, of the village damsel bore so 
 strong a resemblance to those of Catherine Seyton that he 
 felt like one bewildered in the mazes of a changeful and 
 stupifying dream. The memorable scene of the hostelry 
 
284 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 rushed on his recollection, with all its doubtful and marvel- 
 ous circumstances. Were the tales of enchantment which 
 he had read in romances realized in this extraordinary girl ? 
 Could she transport herself from the walled and guarded 
 Castle of Lochleven, moated with its broad lake (towards 
 which he cast back a look as if to ascertain it was still in 
 existence), and watched with such scrupulous care as the 
 safety of a nation demanded. Could she surmount all these 
 obstacles, and make such careless and dangerous use of her 
 liberty as to engage herself publicly in a quarrel in a village 
 fair ? Kolaud was unable to determine whether the exer- 
 tions which it must have cost her to gain her freedom or the 
 use to which she had put it rendered her the most unac- 
 countable creature. 
 
 Lost in these meditations, he kept his gaze fixed on the 
 subject of them ; and in every casual motion discovered, or 
 thought he discovered, something which reminded him still 
 more strongly of Catherine Seyton. It occurred to him 
 more than once, indeed, that he might be deceiving himself 
 by exaggerating some casual likeness into absolute identity. 
 But then the meeting at the hostelry of St. MichaeFs re- 
 turned to his mind, and it seemed in the highest degree 
 improbable that, under such various circumstances, mere 
 imagination should twice have found opportunity to play 
 him the self-same trick. This time, however, he determined 
 to have his doubts resolved, and for this purpose he sate 
 during the rest of the play like a greyhound in the slip, 
 ready to spring upon the hare the instant that she was started. 
 The damsel, whom he watched attentively lest she should 
 escape in the crowd when the spectacle was closed, sate as if 
 perfectly unconscious that she was observed. But the worthy 
 doctor marked the direction of his eyes, and magnanimously 
 suppressed his own inclination to become the Theseus to 
 this Hippolyta, in deference to the rights of hospitality, 
 which enjoined him to forbear interference with the pleas* 
 urable pursuits of his young friend. He passed one or two 
 formal gibes upon the fixed attention which the page paid 
 to the unknown, and upon his own jealousy ; adding, how- 
 ever, that if both were to be presented to the patient at once, 
 he had little doubt she would think the younger man the 
 sounder prescription. " I fear me" he added, *' we shall 
 have no news of the knave Auchtermuchty for some time, 
 since the vermin whom I sent after him seem to have proved 
 corbie-messengers. So you have an hour or two on your 
 hands. Master Page ; and as the minstrels are beginning to 
 
THE ABBOT 2S& 
 
 strike up, now that the play is ended, why, an you incline 
 for a dance, yonder is the green, and there sits yonr partner. 
 I trust you will hold me perfect in my diagnostics, since 1 
 see with half an eye what disease you are sick of, and have 
 administered a pleasing remedy. 
 
 Discernit sapiens res (as Chambers hath it) quas confundit asellus.** 
 
 The page hardly heard the end of the learned adage, or 
 the charge which the chamberlain gave him to be within 
 reach, in case of the wains arriving suddenly, and sooner 
 than expected, so eager was he at once to shake himself free 
 of his learned associate and to satisfy his curiosity regarding 
 the unknown damsel. Yet, in the haste which he made to- 
 wards her, he found time to reflect that, in order to secure 
 an opportunity of conversing with her in private, he must 
 not alarm her at first accosting her. He therefore composed 
 his manner and gait, and advancing with becoming self- 
 confidence before three or four country-fellows who were in- 
 tent on the same design, but knew not so well how to put 
 their request into shape, he acquainted her that he, as the 
 deputy of the venerable chamberlain, requested the honor of 
 her hand as a partner. 
 
 ''The venerable chamberlain,*^ said the damsel, frankly, 
 reaching the page her hand, " does very well to exercise this 
 part of his privilege by deputy ; and I suppose the laws of 
 the revels leave me no choice but to accept of his faithful 
 delegate. *' 
 
 ''Provided, fair damsel," said the page, "his choice of a 
 delegate is not altogether distasteful to you." 
 
 " Of that, fair sir," replied the maiden, "I will tell you 
 more when we have danced the first measure." 
 
 Catherine Seyton had admirable skill in gestic lore, and 
 was sometimes called on to dance for the amusement of her 
 royal mistress. Roland Graeme had often been a spectator 
 of her skill, and sometimes, at the Queen^s command, Cath- 
 erine's partner on such occasions. He was, therefore, per- 
 fectly acquainted with Catherine's mode of dancing ; and 
 observed that his present partner, in grace, in agility, in 
 quickness of ear, and precision of execution, exactly re- 
 ssembled her, save that the Scottish jig which he now danced 
 with her required a more violent and rapid motion, and more 
 rustic agility, than the stately pavens, lavoltas, and cou- 
 rantoes which he had seen her execute in the chamber of 
 Queen Mary. The active duties of the dance left him little 
 
286 WAVERLET NOVELS 
 
 time for reflection, ard none for conversation ; but when 
 their pas de deux was finished, amidst the acclamations of 
 the villagers, who had seldom witnessed such an exhibition, 
 he took an opportunity, when they yielded up the green to 
 another couple, to use the privilege of a partner, and enter 
 into conversation with the mysterious maiden whom he still 
 held by the hand. 
 
 " Fair partner, may I not crave the name of her who has 
 graced me thus far ? " 
 
 *' You may,^' said the maiden ; '^ but it is a question 
 whether I shall answer you." 
 
 '' And why ?'' asked Roland. 
 
 "Because nobody gives anything for nothing, and you can 
 tell me nothing in return which I care to hear." 
 
 '' Could I not tell you my name and lineage, in exchange 
 for yours ? " returned Eoland. 
 
 ^' No ! " answered the maiden, " for you know little of 
 either." 
 
 "How ?" said the page, somewhat angrily. 
 
 " Wrath you not for the matter," said the damsel ; " I 
 will show you in an instant that I know more of you than 
 you do of yourself." 
 
 "Indeed!" answered Graeme; "for whom then do you 
 take me ? " 
 
 " For the wild falcon," answered she, " whom a dog 
 brought in his mouth to a certain castle, when he was but 
 an unfledged eyas ; for the hawk whom men dare not let fly, 
 lest he should check at game and pounce on carrion ; whom 
 folk must keep hooded till he has the proper light of his 
 eyes, and can discover good from evil." 
 
 " Well — be it so," replied Roland Graeme ; "I guess at a 
 part of your parable, fair mistress mine ; and perhaps I know 
 as much of you as you do of me, and can well dispense with 
 the information which you are so niggard in giving." 
 
 " Prove that," said the maiden, " and I will give you credit 
 for more penetration than I judged you to be gifted withal." 
 
 " It shall be proved instantly," said Roland Graeme. 
 '* The first letter of your name is S and the last N." 
 
 " Admirable ! " said his partner ; "guess on." 
 
 "It pleases you to-day," continued Roland, "to wear the 
 snood and kirtle, and perhaps you may be seen to-morrow in 
 hat and feather, hose and doublet." 
 
 "In the clout! — in the clout! you have hit the very 
 white," said the damsel, suppressing a great inclination to 
 Uugh. 
 
THE ABBOT 28t 
 
 '* You can switch men's eyes out of their heads, as well 
 as the hearts out of their bosoms." 
 
 These last words were uttered in a low and tender tone, 
 which, to Roland's great mortification, and somewhat to his 
 displeasure, was so far from allaying that it greatly in- 
 creased, his partner's disposition to laughter. She could 
 scarce compose herself while she replied, *^ If you had 
 thought my hand so formidable,'" extricating it from his 
 hold, ''you would not have grasped it so hard; but I per- 
 ceive you know me so fully that there is no occasion to show 
 vou my face." 
 
 "Fair Catherine," said the page, ''he were unworthy 
 ever to have seen you, far less to have dwelt so long in the 
 same service, and under the same roof with you, who could 
 mistake your air, your gesture, your step in walking or in 
 .dancing, the turn of your neck, the symmetry of your 
 form : none could be so dull as not to recognize you by so 
 many proofs ; but for me, I could swear even to that tress 
 of hair that escapes from under your muffler." 
 
 " And to the face, of course, which that muffler covers," 
 said the maiden, removing her veil, and in an instant en- 
 deavoring to replace it. She showed the features of Cath- 
 erine ; but an unusual degree of petulant impatience in- 
 flamed them when, from some awkwardness in her manage- 
 ment of the muffler, she was unable again to adjust it with 
 that dexterity which was a principal accomplishment of the 
 coquettes of the time. 
 
 "The fiend rive the rag to tatters !" said the damsel, as 
 the veil fluttered about her shoulders, with an accent so 
 earnest and decided that it made the page start. He looked 
 again at the damsel's face, but the information which his 
 eyes received was to the same purport as before. He 
 assisted her to adjust her muffler, and both were for an in- 
 stant silent. The damsel spoke first, for Eoland Graame 
 was overwhelmed with surprise at the contrarieties which 
 Catherine Seyton seemed to include in her person and char- 
 acter. 
 
 " You are surprised," said the damsel to him, " at what 
 you see and hear. But the times which make females men 
 are least of all fitted for men to become women ; yet you 
 yourself are in danger of such a change." 
 
 " I in danger of becoming effeminate ! " said the page. 
 
 " Yes, you for all the boldness of your reply," said the 
 damsel. " When you should hold fast your religion, be- 
 cause it is assailed on all sides by rebels, traitors, and here- 
 
288 WA VERLEY NO VEL8 
 
 tics^ you let it glide out of your breast like water grasped m 
 the hand. If you are driven from the faith of your fathers 
 from fear of a traitor, is not that v/omanish ? If you are 
 cajoled by the cunning arguments of a trumpeter of heresy, 
 or the praises of a Puritanic old woman, is not that woman- 
 ish ? If you are bribed by the hope of spoil and prefer- 
 ment, is not that womanish ? And when you wonder at my 
 venting a threat or an execration, should you not wonder at 
 yourself, who, pretending to a gentle name, and aspiring to 
 knighthood, can be at the same time cowardly, silly, and 
 self-interested ? '^ 
 
 *' I would that a man would bring such a charge \" said 
 the page ; ^' he should see, ere his life was a minute older, 
 whether he had cause to term me coward or no/' 
 
 *' Beware of such big words,'' answered the maiden ; *'yon 
 said but anon that 1 sometimes wear hose and doublet." 
 
 *^ But remain still Catherine Seyton, wear what you list," 
 said the page, endeavoring again to possess himself of her 
 hand. 
 
 '*You indeed are pleased to call me so," replied the 
 maiden, evading his intention, " but I have many other 
 names besides." 
 
 '^ And will you not reply to that," said the page, '' by 
 which you are distinguished beyond every other maiden in 
 Scotland?" 
 
 The damsel, unallured by his praises, still kept aloof, and 
 sung with a gaiety a verse from an old ballad — 
 
 " O some do call me Jack, sweet love, 
 And some do call me Gill ; 
 But when I ride to Holyrood, 
 My name is Wilful Will." 
 
 •'Wilful Will ! " exclaimed the page, impatiently; '*^say 
 rather Will o' the Wisp — Jack with the Lantern, for never 
 was such a deceitful or wandering meteor ! " 
 ^ '' If I be such," replied the maiden, '' I ask no fools to 
 follow me. If they do so, it is at their own pleasure, and 
 must be on their own proper peril." 
 
 " Nay, but, dearest Catherine," said Eoland Graeme, '' be 
 for one instant serious." 
 
 '^ If you will call me your dearest Catherine, when I have 
 given you so many names to choose upon," replied the dam- 
 sel, " I would ask you how, supposing me for two or three 
 hours of my life escaped from yonder tower, you have the 
 
THE ABBOT 289 
 
 cruelty to ask me to be serious during the only merry mo- 
 ments I have seen perhaps for months ?" 
 
 '* Ay, but, fair Catherine, there are moments of deep and 
 true feeling which are worth ten thousand years of the live- 
 liest mirth ; and such was that of yesterday, when you so 
 nearly " 
 
 " So nearly what ? " demanded the damsel, hastily. 
 
 *'^ When you approached your lips so near to the sign you 
 had traced on my ferehead/' 
 
 *' Mother of Heaven \'' exclaimed she, in a yet fiercer 
 tone, and with a more masculine manner than she had yet 
 exhibited. '^ Catherine Seyton approached her lips to a 
 man's brow, and thou that man ! Vassal, thou liest ! " 
 
 The page stood astonished ; but, conceiving he had alarmed 
 the damsel's delicacy by alluding to the enthusiasm of a 
 moment, and the manner in which she had expressed it, he 
 endeavored to falter forth an apology. His excuses, though 
 he was unable to give them any regular shape, were accepted 
 by his companion, who had indeed suppressed her indigna- 
 tion after its first explosion. *' Speak no more on't,'' she 
 said. *' And now let us part ; our conversation may attract 
 more notice than is convenient for either of us,'' 
 
 ''Nay, but allow me at least to follow you to some se- 
 questered place." 
 
 '' You dare not," replied the maiden. 
 
 '^ How," said the youth, '' dare not ? where is it you dare 
 go, where I dare not follow ?" 
 
 " You fear a will o' the wisp," said the damsel ; '' how 
 would you face a fiery dragon, with an enchantress mounted 
 on its back ? " 
 
 "Like Sir Eger, Sir Grime, or Sir Greysteil," said the 
 page ; '^ but be there such toys to be seen here ?" 
 
 " I go to Mother Nicneven's," answered the maid ; "and 
 she is witch enough to rein the horned devil, with a red silk 
 thread for a bridle, and a rowan-tree switch for a whip." 
 
 " I will follow you," said the page. 
 
 "Let it be at some distance," said the maiden. 
 
 And wrapping her mantle round her with more saccess 
 than on her former attempt, she mingled with the throng, 
 and walked towards the village, heedfully followed by Ko- 
 land Graeme at some distance, and under every precaution 
 which he could uae to prevent his purpose from being ob- 
 served. 
 19 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 ies, it is she whose eyes look'd on thy childhood, 
 And watch'd with trembling hope thy dawn of youth, 
 That now, with these same eyeballs dimm'd with age. 
 And dimmer yet with tears, see thy dishonor. 
 
 Old Play. 
 
 At the entrance of the principal, or indeed, so to speak, the 
 only, street in Kinross the damsel, whose steps were pur- 
 sued by Roland Graeme, cast a glance behind her, as if to be 
 certain he had not lost trace of her, and then plunged down 
 a very narrow lane which ran betwixt two rows of poor and 
 ruinous cottages. She paused for a second at the door of 
 one of those miserable tenements, again cast her eye up the 
 lane towards Roland, then lifted the latch, opened the door, 
 and disappeared from his view. 
 
 With whatever haste the page followed her example, the 
 difficulty which he found in discovering the trick of the 
 latch, which did not work quite in the usual manner, and in 
 pushing open the door, which did not yield to his first effort, 
 delayed for a minute or two his entrance into the cottage. 
 A dark and smoky passage led, as usual, betwixt the exterior 
 wall of the house and the ''hallan," or clay wall, which 
 served as a partition betwixt it and the interior. At the 
 end of this passage, and through the partition, was a door 
 leading into the/* ben,*' or inner chamber of the cottage, 
 and when Roland Graeme's hand was upon the latch of this 
 door, a female voice pronounced, *' Benedictus qui veniat in 
 nomifie Domini, damfiandus qui in nomine inimici." On 
 entering the apartment, he perceived the figure which the 
 chamberlain had pointM out to him as Mother Nicneven, 
 seated beside the lowly health. Bat there was no other per- 
 son in the room. Roland Graeme gazed around in surprise 
 at the disappearance of Catherine Sl^ton, without paying 
 much regard to the supposed sorceress, until she attracted 
 and riveted his regard by the tone in which she asked him — 
 " What seekest thou here ? " 
 
 " I seek,'' said the page, with much embarrassment — ** I 
 seek " 
 
 \ 
 
THE ABBOT 291 
 
 But his answer was cut short when the old woman, draw- 
 ing her huge gray eyebrows sternly together, with a frown 
 which knitted her brow into a thousand wrinkles, arose, and 
 erecting herself up to her full natural size, tore the kerchief 
 from her head, and seizing Roland by the arm, made two 
 strides across the floor of the apartment to a small window 
 through which the light fell full on her face, and showed 
 the astonished youth the countenance of Magdalen Graeme. 
 
 '^ Yes, Roland,'' she said, ** thine eyes deceive thee not : 
 they show thee truly the features of her whom thou hast 
 thyself deceived, whose wine thou hast turned into gall, her 
 bread of joyfulness into bitter poison, her hope into the 
 blackest despair. It is she who now demands of thee, what 
 seekest thou here ? — she whose heaviest sin towards Heaven 
 hath been, that she loved thee even better than the weal of 
 the whole church, and could not without reluctance sur- 
 render thee even in the cause of God — she now asks you, 
 what seekest thou here V* 
 
 While she spoke, she kept her broad black eye riveted on 
 the youth's face, with the expression with which the eagle 
 regards his prey ere he tears it to pieces. Roland felt him- 
 self at the moment incapable either of reply or evasion. 
 This extraordinary enthusiast had preserved over him in 
 gome measure the ascendency which she had acquired dur- 
 ing his childhood ; and, besides, he knew the violence of her 
 passions and her impatience of contradiction, and was sen- 
 sible that almost any reply which he could make was likely 
 to throw her into an ecstasy of rage. He was therefore silent ; 
 and Magdalen Graeme proceeded with increasing enthusiasm 
 in her apostrophe — **Once more, what seek'st thou, false 
 boy ? — seek'st thou the honor thou hast renounced, the faith 
 thou hast abandoned, the hopes thou hast destroyed ? Or 
 didst thou seek me, the sole protectress of thy youth, the 
 only parent whom thou hast known, that thou mayest 
 trample on my gray hairs, even as thou hast already trampled 
 on the best wishes of my heart ?" 
 
 " Pardon me, mother," said Roland Graeme ; " but, in 
 truth and reason, I deserve not your blame. I have been 
 treated amongst you — even by yourself, my revered parent, 
 as well as by others — as one who lacked the common attri- 
 butes of freewill and human reason, 9r was at least deemed 
 unfit to exercise them. A land of enchantment have I been 
 led into, and spells have been cast around me — every one has 
 met me in disguise — every one \)s^ spoken to me in parables 
 — ^I haye been like one who walks in a weary and bewilder- 
 
892 WA VEBLET NO VEL8 
 
 ing dream ; and now you blame me that I have not the sense, 
 and judgment, and steadiness of a waking, and a disen- 
 chanted, and a reasonable man, who knows what he is doing, 
 and wherefore he does it ! If one must walk with masks and 
 specters, who waft themselves from place to place as it were 
 in vision rather than reality, it might shake the soundest 
 faith and turn the wisest head. I sought, since I must needs 
 avow my folly, the same Catherine Seyton with whom you 
 made me first acquainted, and whom I most strangely find 
 in this village of Kinross, gayest among the revelers, when 
 I had but just left her in the well-guarded Castle of Loch- 
 leven, the sad attendant of an imprisoned Queen. I sought 
 her, and in her place I find you, my mother, more strangely 
 disguised than even she is.'^ 
 
 "And what hadst thou to do with Catherine Seyton?'' 
 said the matron, sternly ; " is this a time or a world to follow 
 maidens, or to dance around a Maypole ? When the trum- 
 pet summons every trUe-hearted Scotsman around the 
 standard of the true sovereign, shalt thou be found loitering 
 in a lady's bower ? " 
 
 ''No, by Heaven, nor imprisoned in the rugged walls of 
 an island castle I " answered Roland Graeme. '' I would the 
 blast were to sound even now, for I fear that nothing less 
 loud will dispel the chimerical visions by which I am sur- 
 rounded." 
 
 " Doubt not that it will be winded," said the matron, 
 *' and that so fearfully loud, that Scotland will never hear 
 the like until the last and loudest blast of all shall announce 
 to mountain and to valley that time is no more. Meanwhile, 
 be thou but brave and constant. Serve God, and honor thy 
 sovereign. Abide by thy religion. I cannot — I will not — I 
 dare not ask thee the truth of the terrible surmises I have 
 heard touching thy falling away — perfect not that accursed 
 sacrifice ; and yet, even at this late hour, thou mayst be what 
 I have hoped for, the son of my dearest hope. What say I ? 
 The son of ??2y hope ? Thou shalt be the hope of Scotland, 
 her boast and her honor I Even thy wildest and most foolish 
 wishes may perchance be fulfilled. I might blush to mingle 
 meaner motives with the noble guerdon I hold out to thee. 
 It shames me, being such as I am, to mention the idle pas- 
 sions of youth, save with contempt and the purpose of cen- 
 sure. But we must bribe children to wholesome medicine 
 by the offer of cates, and youth to honorable achievement 
 with the promise of pleasure. Mark me, therefore, Roland. 
 The love of Catherine Seyton will follow him only who shaU 
 
THE ABBOT ^3 
 
 achieve the freedom of her mistress : and believe, it may be 
 one day in thine own power to be that happy lover. Cast, 
 therefore, away doubt and fear, and prepare to do what re- 
 ligion calls for, what thy country demands of thee, what 
 thy duty as a subject and as a servant alike require at your 
 hand ; and be assured, even the idlest or wildest wishes of 
 thy heart will be most readily attained by following the call 
 of thy duty/' 
 
 As she ceased speaking, a double knock was heard against 
 the inner door. The matron, hastily adjusting her muffler 
 and resuming her chair by the hearth, demanded who was 
 there. 
 
 ** Salve in nomine sancto," was answered from without. 
 
 '^ Salvete et vos," answered Magdalen Graeme. 
 
 And a man entered in the ordinary dress of a nobleman's 
 retainer, wearing at his girdle a sword and buckler. '^ I 
 sought you," said he, *'my mother, and him whom I see 
 with you." Then addressing himself to Eoland Graeme, he 
 said to him, *•' Hast thou not a packet from George Doug- 
 las ?" 
 
 " I have," said the page, suddenly recollecting that which 
 had been committed to his charge in the morning, ''but I 
 may not deliver it to any one without some token that they 
 have a right to ask it." 
 
 " You say well," replied the serving-man, and whispered 
 into his ear, " The packet which I ask is the report to his 
 father, will this token suffice ? " 
 
 ''It will," replied the page, and taking the packet from 
 his bosom, gave it to the man. 
 
 " I will return presently," said the serving-man, and left 
 the cottage. 
 
 Roland had now sufficiently recovered his surprise to ac- 
 cost his relative in turn, and request to know the reason why 
 he found her in so precarious a disguise, and a place so 
 dangerous. "You cannot be ignorant," he said, "of the 
 hatred that the Lady of Lochleven bears to those of your — 
 that is of our religion ; your present disguise lays you open 
 to suspicions of a different kind, but inferring no less 
 hazard ; and whether as a Catholic, or as a sorceress, or as a 
 friend to the unfortunate Queen, you are in equal danger, 
 if apprehended within the bounds of the Douglas ; and in 
 the chamberlain who administers their authority you have, 
 for his own reasons, an enemy, and a bitter one." 
 
 " I know it," said the matron, her eyes kindling with 
 triumph ; " I know that, vain of his schoolcraft and carnal 
 
m WAmRLSY NOVELS 
 
 wisdom, Luke Lnndin views with jealousy and hatred the 
 blessings which the saints have conferred on my prayers, and 
 on the holy relics, before the touch, nay, before the bare 
 presence, of which disease and death have so often been 
 known to retreat. I know he would rend and tear me : but 
 there is a chain and a muzzle on the ban-dog that shall re- 
 strain his fury, and the Master^s servant shall not be offended 
 by him until the Master's work is wrought. When that 
 hour comes, let the shadows of the evening descend on me in 
 thunder and in tempest : the time shall be welcome that re- 
 lieves my eyes from seeing guilt, and my ears from listening 
 to blasphemy. Do thou but be constant ; play thy part as 
 1 have played and will play mine ; and my release shall be 
 like that of a blessed martyr whose ascent to Heaven angels 
 hail with psalm and song, while earth pursues him with hiss 
 and with execration." 
 
 As she concluded, the serving-man again entered the cot- 
 tage, and said, *' All is well I the time holds for to-morrow 
 night" 
 
 *' What time ? what holds ?" exclaimed Eoland Graeme. 
 '* 1 trust I have given the Douglas's packet to no 
 wrong '* 
 
 *' Content yourself, young man,*' answered the serving- 
 man ; " thou hast my word and token." 
 
 ** I know not if the token be right," said the page ; ''and 
 I care not much for the word of a stranger." 
 
 *' What," said the matron, ''although thou mayst have 
 given a packet delivered to thy charge by one of the Queen's 
 rebels into the hand of a loyal subject — there were no great 
 mistake in that, thou hot-brained boy I " 
 
 " By St. Andrew, there were foul mistake, though," an- 
 swered the page ; " it is the very spirit of my duty, in this 
 first stage of chivalry, to be faithful to my trust ; and had 
 the devil given me a message to discharge, I would not — so I 
 had plighted my faith to the contrary — betray his counsel to 
 an angel of light." 
 
 "Now, by the love I once bore thee," said the matron, "I 
 could slay thee with mine own hand, when I hear thee talk 
 of a dearer faith being due to rebels and heretics than thou 
 owest to thy church and thy prince ! " 
 
 " Be patient, my good sister," said the serving-man ; " I 
 will give him such reasons as shall counterbalance the scru- 
 ples which beset him : the spirit is honorable, though now 
 it mav be mistimed and misplaced. Follow me, young 
 man. 
 
TEE ABBOT 295 
 
 *' Ere I go to call this stranger to a reckoning," said the 
 page to the matron, **is there nothing I can do for your 
 comfort and safety ? " * 
 
 "Nothing,'' she replied — "nothing, save what will lead 
 more to thy own honor : the saints who have protected me 
 thus far will lend me succor as I need it. Tread the path 
 of glory that is before thee, and only think of me as the 
 creature on earth who will be most delighted to hear of thy 
 fame. Follow the stranger ; he hath tidings for you that 
 you little expect." 
 
 That stranger remained on the threshold as if waiting for 
 Roland, and as soon as he saw him put himself in motion he 
 moved on before at a quick pace. Diving still deeper down 
 the lane, Eoland perceived that it was now bordered by build- 
 ings upon the one side only, and that the other was fenced 
 by a high old wall, over which some trees extended their 
 branches. Descending a good way farther, they came to a 
 small door in the wall. Roland's guide paused, looked 
 around for an instant to see if any one were within sight, 
 then taking a key from his pocket, opened the door and en- 
 tered, making a sign to Roland Graeme to follow him. He 
 did so, and the stranger locked the door carefully on the in- 
 side. During this operation the pa^e had a moment to look 
 around, and perceived that he was in a small orchard very 
 trimly kept. 
 
 The stranger led him through an alley or two, shaded by 
 trees loaded with summer-fruit, into a pleached arbor, 
 where, taking the turf-seat which was on the one side, he 
 motioned to Roland to occupy that which was opposite to 
 him, and, after a momentary silence, opened the conversation 
 as follows : " You have asked a better warrant than the word 
 of a mere stranger to satisfy you that I have the authority 
 of George of Douglas for possessing myself of the packet 
 entrusted to your charge ?" 
 
 " It is precisely the point on which I demand reckoning 
 of you," said Roland. " I fear I have acted hastily ; if so, I 
 must redeem my error as I best may." 
 
 " You hold me then as a perfect stranger ? " said the man. 
 
 " Look at my face more attentively, and see if the features 
 do not resemble those of a man much known to you for- 
 merly." 
 
 Roland gazed attentively ; but the ideas recalled to his 
 mind were so inconsistent with the mean and servile dress of 
 the person before him that he did not venture to express the 
 opinion which he was irresistibly induced to form. 
 
296 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 ** Yes, my son," said the stranger, observing his embar- 
 rassment, *'you do indeed see before you the unfortunate 
 Father Anibrosius, who once accounted his ministry crowned 
 in your preservation from the snares of heresy, but who is 
 now condemned to lament thee as a castaway ! " 
 
 Roland Graeme's kindness of heart was at least equal to 
 his vivacity of temper : he could not bear to see his ancient 
 and honored master and spiritual guide in a situation which 
 inferred a change of fortune so melancholy, but, throwing 
 himself at his feet, grasped his knees and wept aloud. 
 
 '* What mean these tears, my son ?" said the abbot ; '' if 
 they are shed for your own sins and follies, surely they are 
 gracious showers, and may avail thee much ; but weep not, 
 if they fall on my account. You indeed see the superior of 
 the community of St. Mary's in the dress of a poor sworder, 
 who gives his master the use of his blade and buckler, and, 
 if needful, of his life, for a coarse livery coat, and four 
 marks by the year. But such a garb suits the time, and, in 
 the period of the church militant, as well becomes her pre- 
 lates as staff, miter, and crosier in the days of the church's 
 triumph.'* 
 
 " By what fate," said the page — " and yet why," added 
 he, checking himself, '^ need I ask ? Catherine Seyton in 
 some sort prepared me for this. But that the change should 
 be so absolute, the destruction so complete ! " 
 
 " Yes, my son," said the Abbot Ambrosius, " thine own 
 eyes beheld, in my unworthy elevation to the abbot's stall, 
 the last especial act of holy solemnity which shall be seen in 
 the church of St. Mary's, until it shall please Heaven to 
 turn back the captivity of the church. For the present, the 
 shepherd is smitten — ay, wellnigh to the earth, the flocks 
 are scattered, and the shrines of saints and martyrs, and 
 pious benefactors to church, are given to the owls of nighfc 
 and the satyrs of the desert." 
 
 ** And your brother, the Knight of Avenel — could he do 
 nothing for your protection ? " 
 
 " He himself hath fallen under the suspicion of the ruling 
 powers," said the abbot, " who are as unjust to their friends j 
 as they are cruel to their enemies. I could not grieve at it,1 
 did I hope it might estrange him from his course ; but ij 
 know the soul of Halbert, and I rather fear it will drive himj 
 to prove his fidelity to their unhappy cause by some deed) 
 which may be yet more destructive to the church, and more] 
 offensive to Heaven. Enough of this ; and now to the busi- 
 DOis of our meeting. I trust you will hold it sufficient if li 
 
THE ABBOT W; 
 
 pass my word to you, that the packet of which you were 
 lately the bearer was designed for my hands by George of 
 Douglas ?'' 
 
 ''Then/' said the page, 'ris George of Douglas " 
 
 *' A true friend to his Queen, Roland ; and will soon, I 
 trust, have his eyes opened to the errors of his — miscalled — 
 church/' 
 
 " But what is he to his father, and what to the Lady of 
 Lochleven, who has been as a mother to him ? " said the 
 page, impatiently. 
 
 '" The best friend to both, in time and through eternity," 
 said the abbot, ''if he shall prove the happy instrument 
 for redeeming the evil they have wrought, and are still 
 working/' 
 
 '' Still," said the page, " I like not that good service which 
 begins in breach of trust/' 
 
 ''I blame not thy scruples, my son," said the abbot; 
 *' but the time which has wrenched asunder the allegiance 
 of Christians to the church, and of subjects of their king, 
 has dissolved all the lesser bonds of society ; and, in such 
 days, mere human ties must no more restrain our progress 
 than the brambles and briers, which catch hold of his gar- 
 ments, should delay the path of a pilgrim who travels to pay 
 his vows/' 
 
 "But, my father " said the youth, and then stopped 
 
 short in a hesitating manner. 
 
 "Speak on, my son," said the abbot — "speak without 
 fear." 
 
 " Let me not offend you, then," said Roland, " when I 
 answer, that it is even this which our adversaries charge 
 against us, when they say that, shaping the means accord- 
 ing to the end, we are willing to commit great moral evil in 
 order that we may work out eventual good." 
 
 " The heretics have played their usual arts on you, my 
 son," said the abbot ; " they would v/illingly deprive us of 
 the power of acting wisely and secretly, though their pos- 
 session of superior force forbids our contending with them 
 on the terms of equality. They have reduced us to a state 
 of exhausted weakness, and now would fain proscribe the 
 means by which weakness, through all the range of nature, 
 supplies the lack of strength, and defends itself against its 
 potent enemies. As well might the hound say to the hare, 
 ''Use not these wily turns to escape me, but contend with 
 me in pitched battle,' as the armed and powerful heretic 
 demand of the down- trodden and oppressed Catholic to lajr 
 
298 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 aside the wisdom of the serpent, by which alone they may 
 again hope to raise up the Jerusalem over which they weep, 
 and which it is their duty to rebuild. But more of this 
 hereafter. And now, my son, I command thee on thy faith 
 to tell me truly and particularly what has chanced to thee 
 since we parted, and what is the present state of thy con- 
 science. Thy relation, our sister Magdalen, is a woman of 
 excellent gifts, blessed with a zeal which neither doubt nor 
 danger can quench ; but yet it is not a zeal altogether ac- 
 cording to knowledge ; wherefore, my son, I would willingly 
 be myself thy interrogator and the counselor in these days of 
 darkness and stratagem. ■*' 
 
 With the respect which he owed to his first instructor, 
 Roland Graeme went rapidly through the events which the 
 reader is acquainted with ; and while he disguised not from 
 the prelate the impression which had been made on his mind 
 by the arguments of the preacher Henderson, he accident- 
 ally, and almost involuntarily, gave his father confessor 
 to understand the influence which Catherine Seyton had 
 acquired over him. 
 
 *' It is with joy I discover, my dearest son,'' replied the 
 abbot, ''that I have arrived in time to arrest thee on the 
 verge of the precipice to which thou werfc approaching. 
 These doubts of which you complain are the weeds which 
 naturally grow up in a strong soil, and require the careful 
 hand of the husbandman to eradicate them. Thou must 
 study a little volume, which I will impart to thee in fitting 
 time, in which, by Our Lady's grace, I have placed in some- 
 what a clearer light than heretofore the points debated be- 
 twixt us and these heretics, who sow among the wheat the 
 same tares which were formerly privily mingled with the 
 good seed by the Albigenses and the Lollards. But it is not 
 by reason alone that you must hope to conquer these insinu- 
 ations of the enemy. It is sometimes by timely resistance, 
 but oftener by timely flight. You must shut your ears 
 against the arguments of the heresiarch, when circumstances 
 permit you not to withdraw the foot from his company. 
 Anchor your thoughts upon the service of Our Lady, while 
 he is expending in vain his heretical sophistry. Are you 
 unable to maintain your attention on Heavenly objects, 
 think rather on thine own earthly pleasures than tempt 
 Providence and the saints by giving an attentive ear to the 
 erring doctrine : think of thy hawk, thy hound, thine 
 angling-rod, thy sword and buckler — think even of Cather- 
 ine Seyton, rather than give thy soul to the lessons of the 
 
THE ABBOT 299 
 
 tempter. Alas ! my son, believe not that, worn out with 
 woes, and bent more by affliction than by years, I have for- 
 gotten the effect of beauty over the heart of youth. Even 
 In the watches of the night, broken by thoughts of an im- 
 prisoned queen, a distracted kingdom, a church laid waste 
 and ruinous, come other thoughts than these suggest, and 
 feelings which belonged to an earlier and happier course of 
 life. Be it so — we must bear our load as we may ; and not 
 in vain are these passions implanted in our breast, since, as 
 now in thy case, they may come in aid of resolutions founded 
 upon higher grounds. Yet beware, my son — this Catherine 
 Seyton is the daughter of one of Scotland's proudest, as well 
 as most worthy barons ; and thy state may not suffer thee, 
 as yet, to aspire so high. But thus it is — Heaven works its 
 purposes through human folly ; and Douglas's ambitious 
 affection as well as thine shall contribute alike to the desired 
 end.'' 
 
 "How, my father,'^ srid the page, "my suspicions are 
 then true ! Douglas loves '' 
 
 "He does; and with a love as much misplaced as thine 
 own ; but beware of him — cross him not — thwart him not." 
 
 " Let him not cross or thwart me," said the page ; "for I 
 will not yield him an inch of way, had he in his body the 
 soul of every Douglas that has lived since the time of the 
 Dark Gray Man."* 
 
 " Nay, have patience, idle boy, and reflect that your suit 
 can never interfere with his. But a truce with these vani- 
 ties, and let us better employ the little space which still re- 
 mains to us to spend together. To thy knees, my son, and 
 resume the long- interrupted duty of confession, that, happen 
 what may, the hour may find in thee a faithful Catholic, re- 
 lieved from the guilt of his sins by authority of the Holy 
 Church. Could I but tell thee, Eoland, the joy with whicn 
 I see thee once more put thy knee to its best and fittest use 1 
 Quid diets, mifilif" 
 
 *'Culpas meaSf" answered the youth; and, according to 
 the ritual of the Catholic Church, he confessed and received 
 absolution, to which was annexed the condition of perform- 
 ing certain enjoined penances. 
 
 When this religious ceremony was ended, an old. man, in 
 the dress of a peasant of the better order, approached the 
 arbor and greeted the abbot. " I have waited the conclu- 
 sion of your devotions," he said, " to tell you the youth is 
 sought after by the chamberlain, and it were well he should 
 
 ♦See Note 31. 
 
300 WA VEBLEY NOVELS 
 
 appear without delay. Holy St. Francis, if the halberdiers 
 were to seek him here, they might sorely wrong my garden- 
 plot : they are in office, and reck not where they tread, were 
 each step on jessamine and clove-gillyflowers.'* 
 
 *' We will speed him forth, my brother, '* said the abbot ; 
 " but, alas ! is it possible that such trifles should live in your 
 mind at a crisis so awful as that which is now impending ? " 
 
 '* Eeverend father,^' answered the proprietor of the garden, 
 for such he was, *^ how oft shall I pray you to keep your 
 high counsel for high minds like your own ? What have 
 you required of me, that I have not granted unresistingly, 
 though with an aching heart ? " 
 
 '* I would require of you to be yourself, my brother,*' said 
 the Abbot Ambrosius : '* to remember what you were, and 
 to what your early vows have bound you.*' 
 
 " I tell thee. Father Ambrosius," replied the gardener, 
 *' the patience of the best saint that ever said paternoster 
 would be exhausted by the trials to which you have put 
 mine. What I have been, it skills not to speak at present : 
 no one knows better than yourself, father, what I renounced, 
 in hopes to find ease and quiet during the remainder of my 
 days ; and no one better knows how my retreat has been 
 invaded, my fruit-trees broken, my flower-beds trodden 
 down, my quiet frightened away, and my very sleep driven 
 from my bed, since ever this poor Queen, God bless her ! 
 hath been sent to Lochleven. I blame her not : being a 
 prisoner, it is natural she should wish to get out from so vile 
 a hold, where there is scarcely any place even for a tolerable 
 garden, and where the water-mists, as I am told, blight all 
 the early blossoms — I say, I cannot blame her for endeavor- 
 ing for her freedom ; but why I should be drawn into the 
 scheme ; why my harmless arbors, that I planted with my 
 own hands, should become places of privy conspiracy ; why 
 my little quay, which I built for my own fishing-boat, should 
 have become a haven for secret embarkations ; in short, why 
 I should be dragged into matters where both heading and 
 hanging are like to be the issue, I profess to you, reverend 
 father, I am totally ignorant." 
 
 " My brother/' answered the abbot, ''you are wise, and 
 ought to know " 
 
 '' I am not — I am not — I am not wise," replied the horti- 
 culturist, pettishly, and stopping his ears with his fingers ; 
 '' I was never called wise, but when men wanted to engage 
 me in some action of notorious folly. 
 
 *' But, my good brother," said the abbot 
 
TBt: ABBOT 304 
 
 " I am not good, neither," said the peevish gardener — '* I 
 am neither good nor wise. Had I been wise, you would not 
 have been admitted here ; and were I good, methinks I 
 should send you elsewhere to hatch plots for destroying the 
 quiet of the country. What signifies disputing about queen 
 or king, when men may sit at peace sub umbra vitis sui f 
 And so would I do, after the precept of Holy Writ, were I, 
 as you term me, wise or good. But such as I am, my neck 
 is in the yoke, and you make me draw what weight you list. 
 Follow me, youngster. This reverend father, who makes in 
 his jackman^s dress nearly as reverend a figure as I myself, 
 will agree with me in one thing at least, and that is, that 
 you have been long enough here.'' 
 
 " Follow the good father, Eoland," said the abbot, '^ and 
 remember my words — a day is approaching that will try the 
 temper of all true Scotsmen ; may thy heart prove faithful 
 as the steel of thy blade ! " 
 
 The page bowed in silence, and they parted ; the gardener, 
 notwithstanding his advanced age, walking on before him 
 very briskly, and muttering as he went, partly to himself, 
 partly to his companion, after the manner of old men of 
 weakened^ intellects. '* When I was great," thus ran his 
 maundering, '' and had my mule and my ambling palfrey at 
 command, I warrant you I could have as well flown through 
 the air as have walked at this pace. I had my gout and my 
 rheumatics, and an hundred things besides, that hung fet- 
 ters on my heels ; and now, thanks to Our Lady and honest 
 labor, I can walk with any good man of my age in the king- 
 dom of Fife. Fy upon it, that experience should be so long 
 in coming ! " 
 
 As he was thus muttering, his eye fell upon the branch of 
 a pear-tree which drooped down for want of support, and at 
 once forgetting his haste, the old man stopped and set seri- 
 ously about binding it up. Eoland Graeme hath both readi- 
 ness, neatness of hand, and good-nature in abundance : he 
 immediately lent his aid, and in a minute or two the bough 
 was supported, and tied up in a way perfectly satisfactory to 
 the old man, who looked at it with a great complaisance. 
 '* They are bergamots," he said, " and if you will come 
 ashore in autumn, you shall taste of them ; the like are not 
 in Lochleven Castle. The garden there is a poor pinfold, 
 and the gardener, Hugh Houkham, hath little skill of his 
 craft : so come ashore. Master Page, in autumn, when you 
 would eat pears. But what am I thinking of ? ere that time 
 •ome, they may have given thee sour pears for plums. Take 
 
302 WAVERLET NOVELS 
 
 an old man's advice, youth, one who hath seen many days, 
 and sat in higher places than thou canst hope for : bend thy 
 sword into a pruning-hook, and make a dibble of thy dagger 
 — thy days should be the longer, and thy health the better 
 for it — and come to aid me in my garden, and I will teach 
 thee the real French fashion of ' imping,^ which the South- 
 ron call graffing. Do this, and do it without loss of time, 
 for there is a whirlwind coming over the land, and only those 
 shall escape who lie too much beneath the storm to have 
 their boughs broken by it/' 
 
 So saying, he dismissed Roland Graeme through a different 
 door from that by which he had entered, signed a cross and 
 pronounced a henedicite as they parted, and then, still mut- 
 tering to himself, retired into the garden, and locked t>^o 
 ^^v on the inside. 
 
CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 Pray God she prove not masculine ere long I 
 
 King Henry TV, 
 
 Dismissed from the old man's garden, Eoland Graeme found 
 that a grassy paddock, in which sauntered two cows, the 
 property of the gardener, still separated him from the village. 
 He paced through it, lost in meditation upon the words 
 of the abbot. Father Ambrosius had, with success enough, 
 exerted over him that powerful influence which the guardians 
 and instructors of our childhood possess over our more ma- 
 ture youth. And yet, when Eoland looked back upon what 
 the father had said, he could not but suspect that he had 
 rather sought to evade entering into the controversy betwixt 
 the churches than to repel the objections and satisfy the 
 doubts which the lectures of Henderson had excited. " For 
 this he had no time,'' said the page to himself, '' neither 
 have I now calmness and learning sufficient to judge upon 
 points of such magnitude. Besides, it were base to quit my 
 faith while the wind of fortune sets against it, unless I were 
 so placed that my conversion, should it take place, were free 
 as light from the imputation of self-interest. I was bred a 
 Catholic — bred in the faith of Bruce and Wallace — I will 
 hold that faith till time and reason shall convince me that 
 it errs. I will serve this poor Queen as a subject should 
 serve an imprisoned and wronged sovereign. They who 
 placed me in her service have to blame themselves : 
 they sent me hither, a gentleman trained in the paths of 
 loyalty and honor, when they should have sought out some 
 truckling, cogging, double-dealing knave, who would have 
 been at once the observant page of the Queen and the obse- 
 quious spy of her enemies. Since I must choose betwixt 
 aiding and betraying her, I will decide as becomes /ler ser- 
 vant and her subject ; but Catherine Seyton — Catherine 
 Seyton, beloved by Douglas, and holding me on or off as the 
 intervals of her leisure or caprice will permit — how shall I 
 deal with the coquette ? By Heaven, when I next have an 
 opportunity, she shall render me some reason for her con' 
 duct, or I will break with her forever I '* 
 
 803 
 
804 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 As he formed this doughty resolution, he crossed the stile 
 which led out of the little inclosure, and was almost imme- 
 diately greeted by Dr. Luke Lundin. 
 
 *'Ha I my most excellent young friend/' said the doctor, 
 " from whence come you ? — but I note the place. Yes, 
 neighbor Blinkhoolie's garden is a pleasant rendezvous, and 
 you are of the age when lads look after a bonny lass with 
 one eye and a dainty plum with another. But hey ! you 
 look subtriste and melancholic : I fear the maiden has proved 
 cruel, or the plums unripe ; and surely, I think neighbor 
 Blinkhoolie's damsons can scarcely have been well preserved 
 throughout the winter — he spares the saccharine juice on 
 his confects. But courage, man, there are more Kates in 
 Kinross ; and for the immature fruit, a glass of my double 
 distilled aqua mirahilis! prolatum est.'' 
 
 The page darted an ireful glance at the facetious physi- 
 cian ; but presently recollecting that the name '^ Kate," 
 which had provoked his displeasure, was probably but in- 
 troduced for the sake of alliteration, he suppressed his 
 wrath, and only asked if the wains had been heard of. 
 
 "Why, I have been seeking for you this hour, to tell you 
 that the stuff is in your boat, and that the boat waits your 
 pleasure. Auchtermuchty had only fallen into company 
 with an idle knave like himself, and a stoup of aquavitae be- 
 tween them. Your boatmen lie on their oars, and there 
 have already been made two wefts from the warder's turret, 
 to intimate that those in the castle are impatient for your 
 return. Yet there is time for you to take a slight repast ; 
 and, as your friend and physician, I hold it unfit you should 
 face the water-breeze with an empty stomach. *' 
 
 Koland Graeme had nothing for it but to return, with such 
 cheer as he might, to the place where his boat was moored 
 on the beach^ and resisted all offer of refreshment, although 
 the doctor promised that he should prelude the collation 
 with a gentle appetizer — a decoction of herbs, gathered and 
 distilled by himself. Indeed, as Roland had not forgotten 
 the contents of his morning cup, it is possible that the rec- 
 ollection induced him to stand firm in his refusal of all food 
 to which such an unpalatable preface was the preliminary. 
 As they passed towards the boat (for the ceremonious polite- 
 ness of the worthy chamberlain would not permit the page 
 to go thither without attendance), Roland Graeme, amidst a 
 group who seemed to be assembled around a party of wan- 
 dering musicians, distinguished, as he thought, the dress of 
 Catherine Seyton. He shook himself clear from his attend- 
 
THE ABBOT 305 
 
 ant, and at one spring was in the midst of the crowd, and at the 
 side of the damsel. *' Catherine/^ he whispered, *' is it well 
 for you to be still here ? — will you not return to the castle ? ** 
 
 " To the devil with your Catherines and your castles \" 
 answered the maiden, snappishly ; *^ have you not had time 
 enough already to get rid of your follies ? Begone ! I desire 
 not your farther company, and there will be danger in thrust- 
 ing it upon me." 
 
 '*Nay, but if there be danger, fairest Catherine," replied 
 Roland, "why will you not allow me to stay and share it 
 with you ?" 
 
 " Intruding fool," said the maiden, " the danger is all on 
 thine own side : the risk is, in plain terms, that I strike thee 
 on the mouth with the hilt of my dagger." So saying, she 
 turned haughtily from him, and moved through the crowd, 
 who gave way in some astonishment at the masculine activity 
 with which she forced her way among them. 
 
 As Roland, though much irritated, prepared to follow, he 
 was grappled on the other side by Doctor Luke Lundin, 
 who reminded him of the loaded boat, of the two wefts, or 
 signals with the flag, which had been made from the tower, 
 of the danger of the cold breeze to an empty stomach, and of 
 the vanity of spending more time upon coy wenches and sour 
 plums. Roland was thus, in a manner, dragged back to his 
 boat, and obliged to launch her forth upon his return to 
 Lochleven Castle. 
 
 That little voyage was speedily accomplished, and the page 
 was greeted at the landing-place by the severe and caustic 
 welcome of old Dryfesdale. " So, young gallant, you are 
 come at last, after a delay of six hours, and after two signals 
 from the castle ? But, I warrant, some idle junketing had 
 occupied you too deeply to think of your service or your 
 duty. Where is the note of the plate and household stuff ? 
 Pray Heaven it hath not been diminished under the sleeve- 
 less care of so heedless a gadabout ! " 
 
 " Diminished under my care, sir steward ?" retorted the 
 page, angrily ; " say so in earnest, and by Heaven your gray 
 hair shall hardly protect your saucy tongue !" 
 
 " A truce with your swaggering, young esquire," returned 
 the steward ; " we have bolts and dungeons for brawlers. 
 Go to my lady and swagger before her, if thou darest ; she 
 will give thee proper cause of offense, for she has waited for 
 thee long and impatiently." 
 
 "And where then is the Lady of Lochleven ?" said tho 
 page ; " for I conceive it is of her thou speakest.** 
 20 
 
306 WAVERLET NOVELS 
 
 "Ay, of whom else?" replied Dryfesdale ; "or who 
 besides the Lady of Lochleven hath a right to command in 
 this castle ! " 
 
 ** The Lady of Lochleven is thy mistress/* said Roland 
 Graeme ; "but mine is the Queen of Scotland/' 
 
 The steward looked at him fixedly for a moment, with an 
 air in which suspicion and dislike were ill concealed by an 
 affectation of contempt. " The bragging cock-chicken," he 
 said, "will betray himself by his rash crowing. I have 
 marked thy altered manner in the chapel of late — ay, and 
 your changing of glances at meal- time with a certain idle 
 damsel, who, like thyself, laughs at all gravity and goodness. 
 There is something about you, my master, which should be 
 looked to. But, if you would know whether the Lady of 
 Lochleven or that other lady hath right to command thy 
 service, thou wilt find them together in the Lady Mary^s 
 ante-room.*' 
 
 Roland hastened thither, not unwilling to escape from the 
 ill-natured penetration of the old man, and marveling at 
 the same time what peculiarity could have occasioned the 
 Lady of Lochleven's being in the Queen's apartment at this 
 time of the afternoon, so much contrary to her usual wont. 
 His acuteness instantly penetrated the meaning. "She 
 wishes,*' he concluded, "to see the meeting betwixt the 
 Queen and me on my return, that she may form a guess 
 whether there is any private intelligence or understanding 
 betwixt us. I must be guarded.** 
 
 With this resolution he entered the parlor, where the 
 Queen, seated in her chair, with the Lady Fleming leaning 
 upon the back of it, had already kept the Lady of Lochleven 
 itanding in her presence for the space of nearly an hour, to 
 the manifest increase of her very visible bad-humor. Roland 
 Graeme, on entering the apartment, made a deep obeisance 
 to the Queen, and another to the lady, and then stood still 
 as if to await their further question. Speaking almost to- 
 gether, the Lady of Lochleven said, " So, young man, you 
 are returned at length ? ** And then stopped indignantly 
 short, while the Queen went on without regarding her — 
 " Roland, you are welcome home to us ; you have proved 
 the true dove and not the raven. Yet I am sure I could 
 have forgiven you if, once dismissed from this water-circled 
 ark of ours, you had never again returned to us. I trust you 
 have brought back an olive branch, for our kind and worthy 
 hostess has chafed herself much on account of your long 
 
THE ABBOT m 
 
 absence, and we never needed more some symbol of peace 
 and reconciliation/' 
 
 *'I grieve I should have been detained, madam," answered 
 the page ; *'bnt, from the delay of the person entrusted 
 with the matters for which I was sent, I did not receive them 
 till late in the day/' 
 
 '' See you there now/"* said the Queen to the Lady Loch- 
 leven ; '^ we could not persuade you, our dearest hostess, 
 that your household goods were in all safe keeping and surety. 
 True it is, that we can excuse your anxiety, considering that 
 these august apartments are so scantily furnished that we 
 have not been able to offer you even the relief of a stool 
 during the long time you have afforded us the pleasure of 
 your society/' 
 
 *'The will, madam," said the lady — '* the will to offer such 
 accommodation was more wanting than the means/' 
 
 "What! "said the Queen, looking round, and affecting 
 surprise, *' there are then stools in this apartment — one, two 
 — no less than four, including the broken one — a royal gar- 
 niture ! We observed them not ; will it please your ladyship 
 
 tosit?" . 1- J J F 
 
 ** No, madam, I will soon relieve you of my presence,'' 
 replied the Lady Lochleven ; " and, while with you, my 
 aged limbs can still better brook fatigue than my mind stoop 
 to accept of constrained courtesy/' 
 
 ** Nay, Lady of Lochleven, if you take it so deeply," said 
 the Queen, rising and motioning to her own vacant chair, 
 ** I would rather you assumed my seat ; you are not the first 
 of ymir family who has done so/' 
 
 The Lady of Lochleven courtesied a negative, but seemed 
 with much difficulty to suppress the angry answer which 
 rose to her lips. 
 
 During this sharp conversation, the page's attention had 
 been almost entirely occupied by the entrance of Catherine 
 Seyton, who came from the inner apartment, in the usual 
 dress in which she attended upon the Queen, and with noth- 
 ing in her manner which marked either the hurry or con- 
 fusion incident to a hasty change of disguise or the conscious 
 fear of detection in a perilous enterprise. Eoland Graeme 
 ventured to make her an obeisance as she entered, but she 
 returned it with an air of the utmost indifference, which, in 
 his opinion, was extremely inconsistent with the circum- 
 stances in which they stood towards each other. ** Surely," 
 he thought, " she cannot in reason expect to bully me out 
 of the belief due to mine own eyes, as she tried to do con- 
 
a08 WAVSELST NOVELS. 
 
 cerning the apparition in the hostelry of St. Michael's. I 
 will try if I cannot make her feel that this will be but a vain 
 task, and that confidence in me is the wiser and safer course 
 to pursue." 
 
 These thoughts had passed rapidly through his mind, when 
 the Queen, having finished her altercation with the lady of 
 the castle, again addressed him — '^What of the revels at 
 Kinross, Roland Graeme ? Methought they were gay, if I 
 may judge from some faint sounds of mirth and distant 
 music which found their way so far as these grated windows, 
 and died when they entered them, as all that is mirthful 
 must. But thou lookest as sad as if thou hadst come from 
 a conventicle of the Huguenots ! " 
 
 " And so perchance he hath, madam,'' replied the Lady 
 of Lochleven, at whom this side-shaft was launched. '* I 
 trust, amid yonder idle fooleries, there wanted not some 
 pouring forth of doctrine to a better purpose than that vain 
 mirth which, blazing and vanishing like the crackling of dry 
 thorns, leaves to the fools who love it nothing but dust and 
 ashes." 
 
 '^ Mary Fleming," said the Queen, turning round and 
 drawing her mantle about her, "1 would that we had the 
 chimney-grate supplied with a fagot or two of these same 
 thorns which the Lady of Lochleven describes so well. Me- 
 thinks the damp air from the lake, which stagnates in these 
 vaulted rooms, renders them deadly cold." 
 
 *' Your Grace's pleasure shall be obeyed," said the Lady 
 of Lochleven ; "'yet may I presume to remind you that we 
 are now in summer ? " 
 
 " I thank you for the information, my good lady," said the 
 Queen ; " for prisoners better learn their calendar from the 
 mouth of their jailer than from any change they themselves 
 feel in the seasons. Once more, Eoland Graeme, what of the 
 revels ? " 
 
 " They were gay, madam," said the page, '^ but of the 
 usual sort, and little worth your Highness's ear." 
 
 "0, you know not," said the Queen, ''how very indulgent 
 my ear has becoifie to all that speaks of freedom and the 
 pleasures of the free. Methinks I would rather have seen 
 the gay villagers dance their ring round the Maypole than 
 have witnessed the most stately masques within the precincts 
 of a palace. The absence of stone walls, the sense that the 
 green turf is under the foot which may tread it free and un- 
 restrained, is worth all that art or splendor can add to more 
 courtly revels." 
 
THE ABBOT 309 
 
 ** I trust/' said the Lady Lochleven, addressing the page 
 in her turn, *' there were amongst these follies none of the 
 riots or disturbances to which they so naturally lead ? " 
 
 Eoland gave a slight glance to Catherine Seyton, as if to 
 bespeak her attention, as he replied, '^ I witnessed no offense, 
 madam, worthy of marking — none indeed of any kind, save 
 that a bold damsel made her hand somewhat too familiar 
 with the cheek of a player-man, and ran some risk of being 
 ducked in the lake/' 
 
 As he uttered these words he cast a hasty glance at Cathe- 
 rine ; but she sustained, with the utmost serenity of manner 
 and countenance, the hint which he had deemed could not 
 have been thrown out before her without exciting some fear 
 and confusion. 
 
 ^' I will cumber your Grace no longer with my presence,'* 
 said the Lady of Lochleven, '' unless you have aught to com- 
 mand me/' 
 
 *^ Nought, our good hostess," answered the Queen, ''un- 
 less it be to pray you, that on another occasion you deem it 
 not needful to postpone your better employment to wait so 
 long upon us." 
 
 *'May it please you," added the Lady Lochleven, ''to 
 command this your gentleman to attend us, that I may re- 
 ceive some account of these matters which have been sent 
 hither for your Grace's use ? " 
 
 " We may not refuse what you are pleased to require, 
 madam," answered the Queen. " Go with the lady, Roland, 
 if our commands be indeed necessary to thy doing so. We 
 will hear to-morrow the history of thy Kinross pleasures. 
 For this night we dismiss thy attendance." 
 
 Roland Graeme went with the Lady of Lochleven, who 
 failed not to ask him many questions concerning what had 
 passed at the sports, to which he rendered such answers as 
 were most likely to lull asleep any suspicions which she 
 might entertain of his disposition to favor Queen Mary, 
 taking especial care to avoid all allusion to the apparition of 
 Magdalen Graeme and of the Abbot Ambrosius. At length, 
 after undergoing a long and somewhat close examination, he 
 was dismissed with such expressions as, coming from the 
 reserved and stern Lady of Lochleven, might seem to ex- 
 press a degree of favor and countenance. 
 
 His first care was to obtain some refreshment, which was 
 more cheerfully afforded him by a good-natured pantler than 
 by Dryfesdale, who was, on this occasion, much disposed 
 to abide by the fashion of Pudding-burn House, where 
 
810 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 They who came not the first call 
 Gat no more meat till the next meal* 
 
 "When Roland Graeme had finished his repast, having his 
 dismissal from the Queen for the evening, and being little 
 inclined for such society as the castle afforded, he stole into 
 the garden, in which he had permission to spend his leisure 
 time, when it pleased him. In this place, the ingenuity of 
 the contriver and disposer of the walks had exerted itself to 
 make the most of little space, and by screens, both of stone 
 ornamented with rude sculpture and hedges of living green, 
 had endeavored to give as much intricacy and variety as the 
 confined limits of the garden would admit. 
 
 Here the young man walked sadly, considering the events 
 of the day, and comparing what had dropped from the abbot 
 with what he had himself noticed of the demeanor of George 
 Douglas. ''It must be so," was the painful but inevitable 
 conclusion at which he arrived — '' it must be by his aid that 
 she is thus enabled, like a phantom, to transport herself from 
 place to place, and to appear at pleasure on the mainland or 
 on the islet. It must be so," he repeated once more ; " with 
 him she holds a close, secret, and intimate correspondence, 
 altogether inconsistent with the eye of favor which she has 
 sometimes cast upon me, and destructive to the hopes which 
 she mnst have known these glances have necessarily inspired." 
 And yet (for love will hope where reason despairs) the thought 
 rushed on his mind that it was possible she only encouraged 
 Douglas's passion so far as might serve her mistress's inter- 
 est, and that she was of too frank, noble, and candid a nature 
 to hold out to himself hopes which she meant not to fulfil. 
 Lost in these various conjectures, he seated himself upon a 
 bank of turf, which commanded a view of the lake on the 
 one side, and on the other of that front of the castle along 
 which the Queen's apartments were situated. 
 
 The sun had now for some time set, and the twilight of 
 May was rapidly fading into a serene night. On the lake, 
 the expanded water rose and fell, with the slightest and 
 softest influence of a southern breeze, which scarcely dimpled 
 the surface over which it passed. In the distance was still 
 seen the dim outline of the island of St. Serf, once visited by 
 many a sandaled pilgrim, as the blessed spot trodden by a 
 man of God ; now neglected or violated, as the refuge of 
 lazy priests, who had with justice been compelled to give 
 place to the sheep and the heifers of a Protestant baron. 
 
 As Roland gazed on the dark speck, amid the lighter blue 
 
THE ABBOT 311 
 
 of the waters which surrounded it, the mazes of polemical 
 discussion again stretched themselves before the eye of hii 
 mind. Had these men justly suffered their exile as licen- 
 tious drones, the robbers, at once, and disgrace of the busy 
 hive ; or had the hand of avarice and rapine expelled from 
 the temple not the ribalds who polluted, but the faithful 
 priests who served, the shrine in honor and fidelity ? The 
 arguments of Henderson, in this contemplative hour, rose 
 with double force before him, and could scarcely be parried 
 by the appeal which the Abbot Ambrosius had made from 
 his understanding to his feelings— an appeal which he had 
 felt more forcibly amid the bustle of stirring life than now 
 when his reflections were more undisturbed. It required an 
 effort to divert his mind from this embarrassing topic ; and 
 he found that he best succeeded by turning his eyes to the 
 front of the tower, watching where a twinkling light still 
 streamed from the casement of Catherine Seyton^s apart- 
 ment, obscured by times for a moment, as the shadow of the 
 fair inhabitant passed betwixt the taper and the window. 
 At length the light was removed or extinguished, and that 
 object of speculation was also withdrawn from the eyes of 
 the meditative lover. Dare I confess the fact, without in- 
 juring his character forever as a hero of romance ? These 
 eyes gradually became heavy ; speculative doubts on the 
 subject of religious controversy, and anxious conjectures 
 concerning the state of his mistress's affections, became con- 
 fusedly blended together in his musings ; the fatigues of a 
 busy day prevailed over the harassing subjects of contempla- 
 tion which occupied his mind, and he fell fast asleep. 
 
 Sound were his slumbers, until they were suddenly dis- 
 pelled by the iron tongue of the castle bell, which sent its 
 deep and sullen sounds wide over the bosom of the lake, and 
 awakened the echoes of Bennarty, the hill which descends 
 steeply on its southern bank. Eoland started up, for this 
 bell was always tolled at ten o'clock, as the signal for lock- 
 ing the castle gates, and placing the keys under the charge 
 of the seneschal. He therefore hastened to the wicket by 
 which the garden communicated with the building, and had 
 the mortification, just as he reached it, to hear the bolt leave 
 its sheath with a discordant crash, and enter the stone groove 
 of the door-lintel. 
 
 "Hold — hold," cried the page, ''and let me in ere you 
 lock the wicket.'' 
 
 The voice of Dryfesdale replied from within, in his usual 
 tone of imbittered sullenness, '' The hour is past, fair mas- 
 
312 WAVEBLEY NOVELS 
 
 ter ; you like not the inside of these walls ; even make it a 
 complete holiday, a-iid spend the night as well as the day 
 out of bounds. *' 
 
 *' Open the door/' exclaimed the indignant page, " or by 
 St. Giles I will make thy gold chain smoke for it ! " 
 
 *^ Make no alarm here/' retorted the inpenetrable Dryfes- 
 dale, "but keep thy sinful oaths and silly threats for those 
 that regard them. I do mine office, and carry the keys to 
 the seneschal. Adieu, my young master ! the cool night 
 air will advantage your hot blood.'' 
 
 The steward was right in what he said ; for the cooling 
 breeze was very necessary to appease the feverish fit of anger 
 which Roland experienced, nor did the remedy succeed for 
 Bome time. At length, after some hasty turns made through 
 the garden, exhausting his passion in vain vows of vengeance, 
 Roland Graeme began to be sensible that his situation ought 
 rather to be held as matter of laughter than of serious resent- 
 ment. To one bred a sportsman, a night spent .in the open 
 air had in it little of hardship, and the poor malice of the 
 steward seemed more worthy of his contempt than his anger. 
 *' I would to God," he said, "that the grim old man may 
 always have contented himself with such sportive revenge. 
 He often looks as he were capable of doing us a darker turn." 
 Returning, therefore, to the turf-seat which he had formerly 
 occupied, and which was partially sheltered by a trim fence 
 of green holly, he drew his mantle around him, stretched 
 himself at length on the verdant settle, and endeavored to 
 resume that sleep which the castle bell had interrupted to so 
 little purpose. 
 
 Sleep, like other earthly blessings, is niggard of its favors 
 when most courted. The more Roland invoked her aid, the 
 further she fled from his eyelids. He had been completely 
 awakened, first by the sounds of the bell, and then by his 
 own aroused vivacity of temper, and he found it difficult 
 again to compose himself to slumber. At length, when hif 
 mind was wearied out with a maze of unpleasing meditation, 
 he succeeded in coaxing himself into a broken repose. This 
 was again dispelled by the voices of two persons who were 
 walking in the garden, the sound of whose conversation, 
 after mingling for some time in the page's dreams, at length 
 succeeded in awaking him thoroughly. He raised himself 
 from his reclining posture in the utmost astonishment, which 
 the circumstance of hearing two persons at that late hour 
 conversing on the outside of the watchfully guarded Castle 
 of Lochleven was so well calculated to excite. His first 
 
THE ABBOT 818 
 
 thought was of supernatural beings ; his next, upon some 
 attempt on the part of Queen Mary's friends and followers ; r 
 
 his last was that George of Douglas, possessed of the keys, V 
 
 aud having the means of ingress and egress at pleasure, was \ 
 
 availing himself of his office to hold a rendezvous with \ 
 
 Catherine Seyton in the castle garden. He was confirmed \ 
 
 in this opinion by the tone of the ^"^ice which asked in alow 
 whig per ** Whether all was ready '( '' 
 
CHAPTER XXX 
 
 In some breasts passion lies conceal'd and sileni, 
 Like war's swart powder in a castle vault, 
 Until occasion, like the linstock, lights it ; 
 Then comes at once the lightning and the thunder, 
 And distant echoes tell that all is rent asunder. 
 
 Old Play. 
 
 RoLAN'D Gejeme, availing himself of a breach in the holly 
 Bcreen, and of the assistance of the full moon, which was 
 now arisen, had a perfect opportunity, himself unobserved, 
 to reconnoiter the persons and the motions of those by whom 
 his rest had been thus unexpectedly disturbed ; and his ob- 
 servations confirmed his jealous apprehensions. They stood 
 together in close and earnest conversation within four yards 
 of the place of his retreat, and he could easily recognize the 
 tall form and deep voice of Douglas, and the no less remark- 
 able dress and tone of the page at the hostelry of St. MichaeFs. 
 
 " I have been at the door of the page's apartment," said 
 Douglas, '* but he is not there, or he will not answer. It is 
 fast bolted on the inside, as is the custom, and we cannot 
 pass through it ; and what his silence may bode I know not." 
 
 " You have trusted him too far," said the other — ^' a 
 feather-headed coxcomb, upon whose changeable mind and 
 hot brain there is no making an abiding impression." 
 
 *' It was not I who was willing to trust him," said Douglas; 
 " but I was assured he would prove friendly when called 
 
 upon, for " Here he spoke so low that Roland lost the 
 
 tenor of his words, which was the more provoking as he was 
 fully aware that he was himself the subject of their conver- 
 sation. 
 
 '' Nay," replied the stranger, more aloud, " I have on my 
 side put him off with fair words, which make fools fain ; but 
 now, if you distrust him at the push, deal with him with 
 your dagger, and so make open passage." 
 
 *' That was too rash," said Douglas ; '' and besides, as I 
 told you, the door of his apartment is shut and bolted. I 
 will essay again to waken him." 
 
 Graeme instantly comprehended that the ladies, having 
 b«cii somehow made aware of his being in the garden, had 
 
 314 
 
THE ABBOT 816 
 
 secnred the door of the outer room in which he usually slept, 
 as a sort of sentinel upon that only access to the Queen's 
 apartments. But then, how came Catherine Seyton to he 
 abroad, if the Queen and the other lady were still within 
 their chambers, and the access to them locked and bolted ? 
 ** I will be instantly at the bottom of these mysteries,'' he 
 said, " and then thank Mrs. Catherine, if this be really she, 
 for the kind use which she exhorted Douglas to make of his 
 dagger ; they seek me, as I comprehend, and they shall not 
 seek me in vain." 
 
 Douglas had by this time re-entered the castle by the 
 wicket, which was now open. The stranger stood alone in 
 the garden walk, his arms folded on his breast, and his eyes 
 cast impatiently up to the moon, as if accusing her of be- 
 traying him by the magnificence of her luster. In a moment 
 Eoland Graeme stood before him. '* A goodly night," he 
 said, " Mrs. Catherine, for a young lady to stray forth in dis- 
 guise, and to meet with men in an orchard ! " 
 
 *'Hush!" said the stranger page — ** hush, thou foolish 
 patch, and tell us in a word if thou art friend or foe." 
 
 '^ How should I be friend to one who deceives me by fair 
 words, and who would have Douglas deal with me with his 
 poniard ?" replied Roland. 
 
 ^' The fiend receive George of Douglas and thee too, thou 
 horn madcap and sworn marplot!" said the other; *'we 
 shall be discovered, and then death is the word." 
 
 *' Catherine," said the page, '' you have dealt falsely and 
 cruelly with me, and the moment of explanation is now come ; 
 neither it nor you shall escape me." 
 
 *' Madman !" said the stranger, ^' I am neither Kate nor 
 Catherine : the moon shines bright enough surely to know 
 the hart from the hind." 
 
 '* That shift shall not serve you, fair mistress," said the 
 page, laying hold on the lap of the stranger's cloak ; " this 
 time, at least, I will know with whom I deal." 
 
 *^ Unhand me," said she, endeavoring to extricate herself 
 from his grasp ; and in a tone where anger seemed to con- 
 tend with a desire to laugh, " Use you so little discretion 
 towards a daughter of Seyton ? " 
 
 But as Roland, encouraged perhaps by her risibility to sup- 
 pose his violence was not unpardonably offensive, kept hold 
 on her mantle, she said, in a sterner tone of unmixed resent- 
 ment, ^* Madman, let me go ! there is life and death in this 
 moment. I would not willingly hurt thee, and yet beware ! " 
 
 As she spoke, she made a sudden effort to escape, and in 
 
316 WAVERLEY IfOVELS 
 
 doing so a pistol which she carried in her hands or about 
 her person went off. 
 
 This warlike sound instantly awakened the well-warded 
 castle. The warder blew his horn, and began to toll the 
 castle bell, crying ont at the same time, " Fy, treason ! trea- 
 son ! cry all ! — cry all ! " 
 
 The apparition of Catherine Seyton, which the page had 
 let loose in the first moment of astonishment, vanished in 
 darkness, but the plash of oars was heard, and in a second 
 or two five or six harquebusses and a falconet were fired from 
 the battlements of the castle successively, as if leveled at 
 some object on the water. Confounded with these incidents, 
 no way for Catherine's protection (supposing her to be in the 
 boat which he had heard put from the shore) occurred to Ro- 
 land, save to have recourse to George of Douglas. He hastened 
 for this purpose towards the apartment of the Queen, whence 
 he heard loud voices and much trampling of feet. When he 
 entered, he found himself added to a confused and astonished 
 group, which, assembled in that apartment, stood gazing up- 
 on each other. At the upper end of the room stood the Queen, 
 equipped as for. a journey, and attended not only by the Lady 
 Fleming, but by the omnipresent Catherine Seyton, dressed 
 in the habit of her own sex, and bearing in her hand the 
 casket, in which Mary kept such jewels as she had been per- 
 mitted to retain. At the other end of the hall was the Lady of 
 Lochleven, hastily dressed, as one startled from slumber by 
 the sudden alarm, and surrounded by domestics, some bear- 
 ing torches, others, holding naked swords, partizans, pistols, 
 or such other weapons as they had caught up in the hurry of 
 a night alarm. Betwixt these two parties stood George of 
 Douglas, his arms folded on his breast, his eyes bent on the 
 ground, like a criminal who knows not how to deny, yet con- 
 tinues unwilling to avow, the guilt in which he had been 
 detected. 
 
 *' Speak George of Douglas/' said the Lady of Lochleven — 
 " speak, and clear the horrid suspicion which rests on thy 
 name. Say, ' A Douglas was never faithless to his trust, 
 and 1 am a Douglas.' Say this, my dearest son, and it 
 is all I ask thee to say to clear thy name, even under such a 
 foul charge. Say it was but the wile of these unhappy women 
 and this false boy which plotted an escape so fatal to Scotland, 
 80 destructive to thy father's house." 
 
 " Madam," said old Dryfesdale, the steward, '^ this much 
 do I say for this silly page, that he could not be accessary to 
 'unlocking the doors, since I myself this night bolted him out 
 
THE ABBOT 811 
 
 of the castle. "Whoever limned this night-piece, the lad's 
 share in it seems to have been small/' 
 
 *' Thou liest, Dryfesdale/' said the lady, *' and woiildst 
 throw the blame on thy master's house, to save the worthless 
 life of a gipsy boy." 
 
 *' His death were more desirable to me than his life," 
 answered the steward, sullenly; *'but the t^uth is the 
 truth." 
 
 At these words, Douglas raised his head, drew up his figure 
 to its full height, and spoke boldly and sedately, as one whose 
 resolution was taken. *' Let no life be endangered for me. 
 I alone " 
 
 "Douglas," said the Queen, interrupting him, "art thou 
 mad y Speak not, I charge you." 
 
 " Madam," he replied, bowing with the deepest respect, 
 "gladly would I obey your commands, but they must have 
 a victim, and let it be the true one. Yes, madam," he con- 
 tinued, addressing the Lady of Lochleven, " I alone am 
 guilty in this matter. If the word of a Douglas has yet any 
 weight with you, believe me that this boy is innocent ; and 
 on your conscience I charge you, do him no wrong ; nor let 
 the Queen suffer hardship for embracing the opportunity of 
 freedom which sincere loyalty — which a sentiment yet deeper 
 — offered to her acceptance. — Yes ! I had planned the escape 
 of the most beautiful, the most persecuted of women ; and 
 far from regretting that I, for a while, deceived the malice 
 of her enemies, I glory in it, and am most willing to yield 
 up life itself in her cause." 
 
 *' Now, may God have compassion on my age," said the 
 Lady of Lochleven, " and enable me to bear their load of 
 affliction ! Princess ! born in a luckless hour, when will you 
 cease to be the instrument of seduction and of ruin to all who 
 approach you ? ancient house of Lochleven, famed so long 
 for birth and honor, evil was the hour which brought the 
 deceiver under thy roof ! " 
 
 " Say not so, madam," replied her grandson ; " the old 
 honors of the Douglas line will be outshone when one of its 
 descendants dies for the most injured of queens — for the most 
 lovely of women." 
 
 ' " Douglas," said the Queen, " must I at this moment — 
 ay, even at this moment, when I may lose a faithful subject 
 forever — chide thee for forgetting what is due to me as thy 
 queen ?" 
 
 " Wretched boy," said the distracted Lady of Lochleven, 
 ' *' hast thou fallen even thus far into the snare of this Moab- 
 
S18 WAVERLET NOVELS 
 
 itish woman ? — hast thou bartered thy name, thy allegiance, 
 thy knightly oath, thy duty to thy parents, thy country, and 
 thy God, for a feigned tear, or a sickly smile, from lips which 
 flattered the infirm Francis — lured to death tiie idiot Darnley 
 — read luscious poetry with the minion Chastelar— mingled 
 in the lays of love which were sung by the beggar Kizzio — 
 and which were joined in rapture to those of the foul and 
 licentious Both well?'' 
 
 *^ Blaspheme not, madam!" said Douglas; ''nor you, 
 fair Queen, and virtuous as fair, chide at this moment the 
 presumption of thy vassal ! Think not that the mere devo- 
 tion of a subject could have moved me to the part I have 
 been performing. Well you deserve that each of your lieges 
 should die for you ; but I have done more — have done that 
 to which love alone could compel a Douglas : I have dissem- 
 bled. Farewell, then, queen of all hearts, and empress of 
 that of Douglas ! When you are freed from this vile bond- 
 age — as freed you shall be, if justice remains in Heaven — 
 and when you load with honors and titles the happy man 
 who shall deliver you, cast one thought on him whose heart 
 would have despised every reward for a kiss of your hand — 
 cast one thought on his fidelity, and drop one tear on his 
 grave." And throwing himself at her feet, he seized her 
 hand, and pressed it to his lips. 
 
 '' This before my face ! " exclaimed the Lady of Lochleven 
 — ''wilt thou court thy adulterous paramour before the eyes 
 of a parent ? Tear them asunder, and put him under strict 
 ward ! Seize him, upon your lives ! " she added, seeing that 
 her attendants looked on each other with hesitation. 
 
 " They are doubtful," said Mary. " Save thyself, Douglas, 
 I command thee ! " 
 
 He started up from the floor, and only exclaiming, " My 
 life or death are yours, and at your disposal ! " drew his 
 sword, and broke through those who stood betwixt him and 
 the door. The enthusiasm of his onset was too sudden and 
 too lively to have been resisted by anything short of the most 
 decided opposition ; and as he was both loved and feared by 
 his father's vassals, none of them would offer him any actual 
 injury. 
 
 The Lady of Lochleven stood astonished at his sudden 
 escape. " Am I surrounded," she said, " by traitors ? Upon 
 him, villains ! — pursue, stab, cut him down ! " 
 
 " He cannot leave the island, madam," said Dryfesdale, 
 interfering : " I have the key of the boat-chain." 
 
 But two or three voices of those who pursued from curiosity 
 
or command of their mistress exclaimed from below, tliat h e 
 had cast himself into the lake. 
 
 ^' Brave Douglas still ! '* exclaimed the Queen. '' 0, true 
 and noble heart, that prefers death to imprisonment ! " 
 
 ''Fire upon him ! '^ said the Lady of Lochleven : ''if 
 there be here a true servant of his father, let him shoot the 
 runagate dead, and let the lake cover our shame ! " 
 
 The report of a gun or two was heard, but they were prob- 
 ably shot rather to obey the lady than with any purpose of 
 hitting the mark ; and Randal immediately entering, said 
 that Master George had been taken up by a boat from the 
 castle, which lay at a little distance. 
 
 " Man a barge and pursue them ! " said the lady. 
 
 " It were quite vain/^ said Eandal ; '* by this time they 
 are half-way to shore, and a cloud has come over the 
 moon." 
 
 " And has the traitor then escaped ? " said the lady, 
 pressing her hands against her forehead with a gesture of de- 
 spair ; " the honor of our house is forever gone, and all will 
 be deemed accomplices in this base treachery ! " 
 
 " Lady of Lochleven," said Mary, advancing towards her, 
 ''you have this night cut off my fairest hopes: you have 
 turned my expected freedom into bondage, and dashed away 
 the cup of joy in the very instant I was advancing it to my 
 lips ; and yet I feel for your sorrow the pity that you deny 
 to mine. Gladly would I comfort you if I might ; but as I 
 may not, I would at least part from you in charity." 
 
 " Away, proud woman ! " said the lady ; " who ever knew 
 so well as thou to deal the deepest wounds under the pre- 
 tense of kindness and courtesy ? Who, since the great trai- 
 tor, could ever so betray with a kiss ? " 
 
 *' Lady Douglas of Lochleven," said the Queen, " in this 
 moment thou canst not offend me — no, not even by thy 
 coarse and unwomanly language, held to me in the presence 
 of menials and armed retainers. I have this night owed so 
 much to one member of the house of Lochleven as to can- 
 cel whatever its mistress can do or say in the wildness of her 
 passion." 
 
 " We are bounden to you. Princess," said Lady Lochleven, 
 putting a strong constraint on herself, and passing from hei 
 tone of violence to that of bitter irony; "our poor house 
 hath been but seldom graced with royal smiles, and will 
 hardly, with my choice, exchange their rough honesty for 
 such court honor as Mary of Scotland has now to bestow." 
 
 " They," replied Mary, " who knew so well how to take 
 
820 WA VEBLET NO VEL8 
 
 may think themselves excused from the obligation implied 
 in receiving. And that I have now little to oSer is the fault 
 of the Douglasses and their allies." 
 
 " Fear nothing, madam," replied the Lady of Lochleven, 
 in the same bitter tone, '^ you retain an exchequer which 
 neither your own prodigality can drain nor your offended 
 country deprive you of. While you have fair words and de- 
 lusive smiles at command, you need no other bribes to lure 
 youth to folly." 
 
 The Queen cast a not ungratified glance on a large mir- 
 ror, which, hanging on one side of the apartment, and illu- 
 minated by the torch-light, reflected her beautiful face and 
 person. " Our hostess grows complaisant," she said, '* my 
 Fleming ; we had not thought that grief and captivity had 
 left us so well stored with that sort of wealth which ladies 
 prize most dearly." 
 
 '' Your Grace will drive this severe woman frantic," said 
 Fleming, in a low tone. '' On my knees I implore you to 
 remember she is already dreadfully offended, and that we 
 are in her power." 
 
 "I will not spare her, Fleming," answered the Queen; 
 *' it is against my nature. She returned my honest sym- 
 pathy with insult and abuse, and I will gall her in return. 
 If her words are too blunt for answer, let her use her poniard 
 if she dare ! " 
 
 " The Lady Lochleven," said the Lady Fleming aloud, 
 "would surely do well now to withdraw and to leave her 
 Grace to repose." 
 
 "Ay," replied the lady, ''or to leave her Grace and her 
 Grace^s minions to think what silly fly they may next wrap 
 their meshes about. My eldest son is a widower — were he 
 not more worthy the flattering hopes with which you have 
 seduced his brother [son] ? True, the yoke of marriage has 
 been already thrice fitted on ; but the Church of Rome calls 
 it a sacrament, and its votaries may deem it one in which 
 they cannot too often participate." 
 
 ''And the votaries of the Church of Geneva," replied 
 Mary, coloring with indignation, "as they deem marriage 
 no sacrament, are said at times to dispense with the holy 
 ceremony." Then, as if afraid of the consequences of this 
 home allusion to the errors of Lady Lochleven^s early life, 
 the Queen added, " Come, my Fleming, we grace her too 
 much by this altercation : we will to our sleeping-apart- 
 ment. If she would disturb us again to-night, she must 
 cause the door to be forced." So saying, she retired to her 
 
TEE ABBOT 321 
 
 bedroom, followed by her two women. Lady Lochleven, 
 stunned as it were by this last sarcasm, and not the less 
 deeply incensed that she had drawn it upon herself, re- 
 mained like a statue on the spot which she had occupied 
 when she received an affront so flagrant. Dryfesdale and 
 Randal endeavored to rouse her to recollection by questions. 
 
 *' What is your honorable ladyship's pleasure in the 
 premises ?" 
 
 ^' Shall we not double the sentinels, and place one npoii 
 the boats and another in the garden ?" said Randal. 
 
 " Would you that despatches were sent to Sir William at 
 Edinburgh, to acquaint him with what has happened V' 
 demanded Dryfesdale; *^and ought not the place of Kin- 
 ross to be alarmed, lest there be force upon the shores of the 
 lake ? '' 
 
 "Do all as thou wilt," said the lady, collecting herself, 
 and about to depart. *' Thou hast the name of a good sol- 
 dier, Dryfesdale, take all precautions. Sacred Heaven I 
 that I should be thus openly insulted !'' 
 
 *' Would it be your pleasure/' said Dryfesdale, hesitating, 
 ^*that this person— this lady — be more severely restrained ?" 
 
 **No, vassal !" answered the lady, indignantly, " my re- 
 venge stoops not to so low a gratification. But I will have 
 more worthy vengeance, or the tomb of my ancestors shall 
 cover my shame ! '* 
 
 " And you shall have it, madam,'' replied Dryfesdale. 
 ''Ere two suns go down, you shall term yourself amply 
 revenged." 
 
 The lady made no answer, perhaps did not hear his words, 
 as she presently left the apartment. By the command of 
 Dryfesdale, the rest of the attendants were dismissed, some 
 to do the duty of guard, others to their repose. The stew- 
 ard himself remained after they had all departed ; and Ro- 
 land Graeme, who was alone in the apartment, was surprised 
 to see the old soldier advance towards him with an air of 
 greater cordiality than he had ever before assumed to him, 
 but which sat ill on his scowling features. 
 
 " Youth," he said, " I have done thee some wrong : it is 
 thine own fault, for thy behavior hath seemed as light to me 
 as the feather thou wearest in thy hat ; and surely thy fan- 
 tastic apparel, and idle humor of mirth and folly, have made 
 me construe thee something harshly. But 1 saw this night 
 from my casement, as I looked out to see how thou hadst 
 disposed of thyself in the garden — I saw, I say, the true 
 efforts which thou didst make to detain the companion of 
 
 21 
 
B22 WAVEBLET NOVELS 
 
 the perfidy of him who is no longer worthy to be called by 
 his father's name, but must be cut off from his house like a 
 rotten branch. I was just about to come to thy assistance 
 when the pistol went off ; and the warder — a false knave, 
 whom I suspect to be bribed for the nonce — was himself 
 forced to give the alarm, which, perchance, till then he had 
 wilfully withheld. To atone, therefore, for my injustice 
 towards you, I would willingly render you a courtesy, if you 
 would accept of it from my hands.'" 
 
 *' May I first crave to know what it is?"' replied the 
 page. 
 
 " Simply to carry the news of this discovery to Holyrood, 
 where thou mayst do thyself much grace, as well with the 
 Earl of Morton and the Regent himself as with Sir William 
 Douglas, seeing thou hast seen the matter from end to end, 
 and borne faithful part therein. The making thine own 
 fortune will be thus lodged in thine own hand, when I trust 
 thou wilt estrange thyself from foolish vanities, and learn to 
 walk in this world as one who thinks upon the next." 
 
 " Sir steward," said Roland Grasme, " I thank you for 
 your courtesy, but I may not do your errand. I pass that I 
 am the Queen's sworn servant, and may not be of counsel 
 against her. But, setting this apart, methinks it were a 
 bad road to Sir William of Lochleven's favor to be the first 
 to tell him of his son's defection ; neither would the Regent 
 be over well pleased to hear the infidelity of his vassal, nor 
 Morton to learn the falsehood of his kinsman." 
 
 " Um ! " said the steward, making that inarticulate sound 
 which expresses surprise mingled with displeasure. *'Nay, 
 then, even fly where ye list ; for, giddy-pated as ye may be, 
 you know how to bear you in the world." 
 
 " I will show you my system is less selfish than ye think 
 for," said the page; "for I hold truth and mirth to be 
 better than gravity and cunning — ay, and in the end to be 
 a match for them. You never loved me less, sir steward, 
 than you do at this moment. I know you will give me no 
 real confidence, and I am resolved to accept no false protes- 
 tations as current coin. Resume your old course : suspect 
 me is much and watch me as closely as you will, I bid you 
 defiance. You have met with your match." 
 
 '* By Heaven, young man," said the steward, with a look 
 of bitter malignity, " if thou darest to attempt any treachery 
 towards the house of Lochleven, thy head shall blacken in 
 the sun from the warder's turret ! " 
 
 " He cannot commit treachery who refuses trust," said the 
 
THE ABBOT 323 
 
 page ; '' and for my head, it stands as securely on mine own 
 shoulders a,s on any turret that ever mason built/' 
 
 *' Farewell, thou prating and speckled pie,'' said Dryfes- 
 dale, '' thou art so vain of thine idle tongue and variegated 
 coat ! Beware trap and lime-twig." 
 
 " And fare thee well, thou hoarse old raven,'' answered 
 the page ; *' thy solemn flight, sable hue, and deep croak are 
 no charms against bird-bolt or hail-shot, and that thou 
 mayst find. It is open war betwixt us, each for the cause of 
 our mistress, and God show the right ! " 
 
 '' Amen, and defend His own people ! " said the steward. 
 *' I will let my mistress know what addition thou hast made 
 to this mess of traitors. Good night. Monsieur Featherpate." 
 
 " Good night. Seignior Sowersby," replied the page ; and 
 when the old man departed, he betook himself to rest. 
 
CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 Poison'd— ill fare I dead, forsook, oast off I 
 
 King John, 
 
 However weary Roland Graeme might be of the Castle ox 
 Lochleven, however much he might wish that the plan for 
 Mary's escape had been perfected, I question if he ever 
 awoke with more pleasing feelings than on the morning after 
 George Douglas's plan for accomplishing her deliverance had 
 been frustrated. In the first place, he had the clearest con- 
 viction that he had misunderstood the innuendo of the 
 abbot, and that the affections of Douglas were fixed, not on 
 Catherine Seyton, but on the Queen ; and in the second place 
 from the sort of explanation which had taken place betwixt 
 the steward and him, he felt himself at liberty, without any 
 breach of honor towards the family of Lochleven, to contrib- 
 ute his best aid to any scheme which should in future be 
 formed for the Queen's escape ; and, independently of the 
 good-will which he himself had to the enterprise, he knew 
 he could find no surer road to the favor of Catherine Seyton. 
 He now sought but an opportunity to inform her that he had 
 dedicated himself to this task, and fortune was propitious in 
 affording him one which was unusually favorable. 
 
 At the ordinary hour of breakfast, it was introduced by 
 the steward with his usual forms, who, as soon as it was 
 placed on the board in the inner apartment, said to Roland 
 Graeme, with a glance of sarcastic import, '^ I leave you, my 
 young sir, to do the oflSce of sewer ; it has been too long ren- 
 dered to the Lady Mary by one belonging to the house of 
 Douglas.'' 
 
 ^' Were it the prime and principal who ever bore the 
 name," said Roland, 'Hhe office were an honor to him." 
 
 The steward departed without replying to this bravade, 
 otherwise than by a dark look of scorn. Graeme, thus left 
 alone, busied himself, as one engaged in a labor of love, to 
 imitate, as well as he could, the grace and courtesy with 
 which George of Douglas was wont to render his ceremonial 
 service at meals to the Queen of Scotland. There was more 
 than youthful vanity, there was a generous devotion, in the 
 feeling with which he took up the task, as a brave soldier 
 
 324 
 
THE ABBOT 826 
 
 assumes the place of a comrade who has fallen in the front 
 of battle. **I am now,'' he said, /'their only champion; 
 and, come weal, come wo, I will be, to the best of my skill 
 and power, as faithful, as trustworthy, as brave, as any 
 Douglas of them all could have been." 
 
 At this moment Catherine Seyton entered alone, contrary 
 to her custom ; and not less contrary to her custom, she en- 
 tered with her kerchief at her eyes. Roland Graeme ap- 
 proached her with beating heart and with downcast eyes, and 
 asked her in a low and hesitating voice whether the Queen 
 were well. 
 
 " Can you suppose it ? " said Catherine ; " think you her 
 heart and body are framed of steel and iron, to endure the 
 cruel disappointment of yestereven, and the infamous taunts 
 of yonder Puritanic hag ? Would to God that I were a man, 
 to aid her more effectually ! " 
 
 " If those v/ho carry pistols, and batons, and poniards, '^ said 
 the page, ''are not men, they are at least Amazons, and 
 that is as formidable." 
 
 "You are welcome to the flash of your wit, sir," replied 
 the damsel ; " I am neither in spirits to enjoy or to reply 
 to it.'' 
 
 "Well, then," said the page, "list to me in all serious 
 truth. And, first, let me say, that the gear last night had 
 been smoother had you taken me into your counsels." 
 
 " And so we meant ; but who could have guessed that 
 Master Page should choose to pass all night in the garden, 
 like some moon-stricken knight in a Spanish romance, in- 
 stead of being in his bedroom, when Douglas came to hold 
 communication with him on our project ? " 
 
 " And why," said the page, " defer to so late a moment 
 BO important a confidence ?" 
 
 " Because j^our communications with Henderson, and — 
 with pardon — the natural impetuosity and fickleness of your 
 disposition, made us dread to entrust you with a secret of 
 such consequence till the last moment ?" 
 
 "And why at the last moment ?" said the page, offended 
 at this frank avowal — " why at that or any other moment, 
 since I had the misfortune to incur so much suspicion ? " 
 
 "\N"ayy now you are angry again," said Catherine ; " and 
 to serve you aright I should break off this talk ; but I will 
 be magnanimous, and answer your question. Know, then, 
 our reason for trusting you was twofold. In the first place, 
 we could scarce avoid it, since you slept in the room through 
 rhich we had to pass. In the second place — — " 
 
328 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 '' Nay/* said the page, '* you may dispense with a second 
 reason, when the first makes your confidence in me a case of 
 necessity/' 
 
 " Good now, hold thy peace,'' said Catherine. " In the 
 second place, as I said before, there is one foolish person 
 among us who believes that Roland Grasme's heart is warm, 
 though his head is giddy ; that his blood is pure, though it 
 boils too hastily ; and that his faith and honor are true as 
 the loadstar, though his tongue sometimes is far less than 
 discreet." 
 
 This avowal Catherine repeated in a low tone, with her 
 eyes fixed on the floor, as if she shunned the glance of Rol- 
 and while she suffered it to escape her lips. *'And this 
 single friend," exclaimed the youth in rapture — '^ this only 
 one who would do justice to the poor Roland Graeme, and 
 whose own generous heart taught her to distinguish between 
 follies of the brain and faults of the heart — will you not 
 tell me, dearest Catherine, to whom I owe my most grate- 
 ful, my most heartfelt thanks ? " 
 
 " Nay," said Catherine, with her eyes still fixed on the 
 ground, *' if your own heart tell you not " 
 
 *' Dearest Catherine ! " said the page, seizing upon her 
 hand, and kneeling on one knee. 
 
 " If your own heart, I say, tell you not," said Catherine, 
 gently disengaging her hand, "it is very ungrateful; for 
 since the maternal kindness of the Lady Fleming " 
 
 The page started on his feet. '' By Heaven, Catherine, 
 your tongue wears as many disguises as your person ! But 
 you only mock me, cruel girl. You know the Lady Flem- 
 ing has no more regard for any one than hath the forlorn 
 princess who is wrought into yonder piece of old figured 
 court-tapestry." 
 
 " It may be so," said Catherine Seyton, " but you should 
 not speak so loud." 
 
 " Pshaw !" answered the page, but at the same time low 
 ering his voice, *' she cares for no one but herself and the 
 Queen. And you know, besides, there is no one of you 
 whose opinion I value, if I have not your own. No — not 
 that of Queen Mary herself." 
 
 " The more shame for you, if it be so," said Catherine, 
 with great composure. 
 
 '^ Nay, but, fair Catherine," said the page, " why will you 
 thus damp my ardor, when I am devoting myself, body and 
 soul, to the cause of your mistress ? " 
 
 *' It is because in doing so," said Catherine, ''you debase 
 
THE ABBOT «27 
 
 a cause so noble by naming along with it any lower or more 
 selfish motive. Believe me/' she said, with kindling eyes, 
 and while the blood mantled on her cheek, *'they think 
 vilely and falsely of women — I mean of those who deserve 
 the name — who deem that they love the gratification of their 
 vanity, or the mean purpose of engrossing a lover's admira- 
 tion and affection better than they love the virtue and honor 
 of the man they may be brought to prefer. He that serves 
 his religion, his prince, and his country with ardor and 
 devotion need not plead his cause with the commonplace rant 
 of romantic passion : the woman whom he honors with his 
 love becomes his debtor, and her corresponding affection is 
 engaged to repay his glorious toil." 
 
 '* You hold a glorious prize for such toil,'' said the youth, 
 bending his eyes on her with enthusiasm. 
 
 " Only a heart which knows how to value it," said Cath- 
 erine. *' He that should free this injured princess from 
 these dungeons, and set her at liberty among her loyal and 
 warlike nobles, whose hearts are burning to welcome her — 
 where is the maiden in Scotland whom the love of such a 
 hero would not honor, were she sprung from the blood 
 royal of the land, and he the offspring of the poorest cot- 
 tager that ever held a plow ! " 
 
 **I am determined," said Roland, '' to take the adventure. 
 Tell me first, however, fair Catherine, and speak it as if you 
 were confessing to the priest — this poor Queen, I know she 
 is unhappy — but, Catherine, do you hold her innocent ? 
 She is accused of murder." 
 
 *' Do I hold the lamb guilty, because it is assailed by the 
 wolf ? " answered Catherine. " Do I hold yonder sun pol- 
 luted, because an earth-damp sullies his beams ? " 
 
 The page sighed and looked down. ''Would my convic- 
 tion were as deep as thine ! But one thing is clear, that in 
 this captivity she hath wrong. She rendered herself up on 
 a capitulation, and the terms have been refused her. I will 
 embrace her quarrel to the death ! " 
 
 "Will you — will you, indeed?" said Catherine, taking 
 his hand in her turn. " be but firm in mind, as thou art 
 bold in deed and quick in resolution ; keep but thy plighted 
 faith, and after ages shall honor thee as the saviour of Scot- 
 land!" 
 
 " But when I have toiled successfully to win that Leah, 
 honor, thou wilt not, my Catherine," said the page, " con- 
 demn me to a new term of service for that Rachel, love ?" 
 
 *' Of that," said Catherine, again extricating her hand from 
 
828 WAVERLET NOVELS 
 
 his grasp, '^we shall have full time to speak ; but honor is 
 the elder sister, and must be won the first." 
 
 "' I may not win her," answered the page ; ^' but I wih 
 venture fairly for her, and man can do no more. And know, 
 fair Catherine — for you shall see the very secret thought of 
 my heart — that not honor only, not only that other and fairer 
 sister, whom you frown on me for so much as mentioning, 
 but the stern commands of duty also, compel me to aid the 
 Queen's deliverance." 
 
 ^' Indeed ! " said Catherine ; ^' you were wont to have 
 doubts on that matter." 
 
 '^ Ay, but her life was not then threatened," replied Roland. 
 
 " And is it now more endangered than heretofore ?" asked 
 Catherine Seyton, in anxious terror. 
 
 '* Be not alarmed," said the page; " but you heard the 
 terms on which your royal mistress parted with the Lady of 
 Lochleven ?" 
 
 '^ Too well — but too well," said Catherine ; " alas ! that 
 she cannot rule her princely resentment, and refrain from 
 encounters like these !" 
 
 ''That hath passed betwixt them," said Roland, " for which 
 woman never forgives woman. I saw the lady's brow turn 
 pale, and then black, when, before all the menzie, and in her 
 moment of power, the Queen humbled her to the dust by 
 taxing her with her shame. And I heard the oath of deadly 
 resentment and revenge which she muttered in the ear of one 
 who, by his answer, will, I judge, be but too ready an execu- 
 tioner of her will." 
 
 ''You terrify me," said Catherine. 
 
 " Do not so take it up ; call up the masculine part of your 
 spirit ; we will counteract and defeat her plans, be they 
 dangerous as they may. Why do you look upon me thus, 
 and weep ? " 
 
 " Alas ! " said Catherine, " because you stand there before 
 me a living and breathing man, in all the adventurous glow 
 and enterprise of youth, yet still possessing the frolic spirits 
 of childhood — there you stand, full alike of generous enter- 
 prise and childish recklessness ; and if to-day, to-morrow, or 
 some such brief space, you lie a mangled and lifeless corpse 
 upon the floor of these hateful dungeons, who but Catherine 
 Seyton will be the cause of your brave and gay career being 
 broken short as you start from the goal ? Alas ! she whom 
 you have chosen to twine your wreath may too probably have 
 to work your shroud ! " 
 y " And be it so, Catherine," said the page, in the full glow 
 
THE ABBOT 329 
 
 of youthful enthusiasm; '^and do thou work my shroud ! 
 and if thou grace it with such tears as fall now at the thought, 
 it will honor my remains more than an earFs mantle would 
 my living body. But shame on this faintness of heart ! the 
 time craves a firmer mood. Be a woman, Catherine, or rather 
 be a man ; thou canst be a man if thou wilt.'^ 
 
 Catherine dried her tears, and endeavored to smile. 
 
 ^' You must not ask me," she said, ''about that which so 
 much disturbs your mind ; you shall know all in time — nay, 
 
 you should know all now, but that Hush ! here comes 
 
 the Queen.'^ 
 
 Mary entered from her apartment, paler than usual, and 
 apparently exhausted by a sleepless night, and by the painful 
 thoughts which had ill supplied the place of repose ; yet the 
 languor of her looks was so far from impairing her beauty 
 that it only substituted the frail delicacy of the lovely woman 
 for the majestic grace of the Queen. Contrary to her wont, 
 her toilette had been very hastily despatched, and her hair, 
 which was usually dressed by Lady Fleming with great care, 
 escaping from beneath the head-tire, which had been hastily 
 adjusted, fell, in long and luxuriant tresses of nature's own 
 curling, over a neck and bosom which were somewhat less 
 carefully veiled than usual. 
 
 As she stepped over the threshold of her apartment, Cather- 
 ine, hastily drying her tears, ran to meet her royal mistress, 
 and having first 'kneeled at her feet and kissed her hand, in- 
 stantly rose, and placing herself on the other side of the 
 Queen, seemed anxious to divide with the Lady Fleming the 
 honor of supporting and assisting her. The page, on his 
 part, advanced and put in order the chair of state, which she 
 usually occupied, and having placed the cushion and foot- 
 stool for her accommodation, stepped back, and stood ready 
 for service in the place usually occupied by his predecessor, 
 the young seneschal. Mary's eye rested an instant on him, 
 and could not but remark the change of persons. Hers was 
 not the female heart which could refuse compassion, at least, 
 to a gallant youth who had suffered in her cause, althougli 
 he had been guided in his enterprise by a too presumptuous 
 passion, and the words ^* Poor Douglas ! " escaped from her 
 lips, perhaps unconsciously, as she leant herself back in her 
 chair, and put the kerchief to her eyes. 
 
 '' Yes, gracious madam,'' said Catherine, assuming a 
 cheerful manner, in order to cheer her sovereign, " our gal- 
 lant knight is indeed banished — the adventure was not re- 
 served for him ; but he has left behind him a youthful 
 
330 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 esquire as much devoted to your Grace's service, and who, 
 by me, makes you tender of his hand and sword." 
 
 ''If they may in aiight avail your Grace," said Koland 
 Graeme, bowing profoundly. 
 
 " Alas ! " said the Queen, " what needs this, Catherine ? 
 — why prepare new victims to be involved in, and over- 
 whelmed by, my cruel fortune ? Were we not better cease 
 to struggle, and ourselves sink in the tide without further 
 resistance, than thus drag into destruction with us every 
 generous heart which makes an effort in our favor ? I have 
 had but too much of plot and intrigue around me, since I 
 was stretched an orphan child in my very cradle, while con- 
 tending nobles strove which should rule in the name of the 
 unconscious innocent. Surely time it were that all this 
 busy and most dangerous coil should end. Let me call my 
 prison a convent, and my seclusion a voluntary sequestration 
 of myself from the world and its ways ! " 
 
 '' Speak not thus, madam, before your faithful servants," 
 said Catherine, ''to discourage their zeal at once and to 
 break their hearts. Daughter of kings, be not in this hour 
 so unkingly. Come, Eoland, and let us, the youngest of her 
 followers, show ourselves worthy of her cause : let us kneel 
 before her footstool, and implore her to be her own magnani- 
 mous self." And leading Roland Graeme to the Queen's 
 seat, they both kneeled down before her. Mary raised her- 
 self in her chair, and sat erect, while, extending one hand 
 to be kissed by the page, she arranged with the other the 
 clustering locks which shaded the bold yet lovely brow of 
 the high-spirited Catherine. 
 
 "Alas! ma mignonne," she said, for so in fondness she 
 often called her young attendant, "that you should thus 
 desperately mix* with my unhappy fate the fortune of your 
 young lives ! Are they not a lovely couple, my Fleming ? 
 and is it not heart-rending to think that I must be their 
 
 rum 
 
 9'' 
 
 " Not so," said Roland Graeme ; " it is we, gracious 
 sovereign, who will be your deliverers." 
 
 '^ Bx orihus parvulorum /" said the Queen, looking up- 
 ward ; " if it is by the mouth of these children that Heaven 
 calls me to resume the stately thoughts which become m}! 
 birth and my rights. Thou wilt grant them Thy protection, 
 and to me the power of rewarding their zeal ! " Then turn- 
 ing to Fleming, she instantly added, " Thou knowest, my 
 friend, whether to make those who have served me happy 
 was not ever Mary's favorite pastime. When I have been 
 
THE ABBOT 381 
 
 rebuked by the stern preachers of the Calvinistic heresy, 
 when I have seen the fierce countenances of my nobles avert- 
 ed from me, has it not been because I mixed in the harm- 
 less pleasures of the young and gay, and, rather for the 
 sake of their happiness than my own, have mingled in the 
 masque, the song, or the dance, with the youth of my house- 
 hold ? "Well, I repent not of it, though Knox termed it sin, 
 and Morton degradation. I was happy, because I saw happi- 
 ness around me ; and woe betide the wretched jealousy that 
 can extract guilt out of the overflowings of an unguarded 
 gaiety ! Fleming, if we are restored to our throne, shall we 
 not have one blythesome day at a blythesome bridal, of which 
 we must now name neither the bride nor the bridegroom ? 
 But that bridegroom shall have the barony of Blairgowrie, a 
 fair gift even for a queen to give, and that bride^s chaplet 
 shall be twined with the fairest pearls that ever were found 
 in the depths of Loch Lomond ; and thou thyself, Mary 
 Fleming, the best dresser of tires that ever busked the 
 tresses of a queen, and who would scorn to touch those of any 
 women of lower rank — thou thyself shalt, for my love, twine 
 them into the bride's tresses. Look my Fleming, suppose 
 them such clustered locks as those of our Catherine, they 
 would not put shame upon thy skill.'' 
 
 So saying, she passed her hand fondly over the head of 
 her youthful favorite, while her more aged attendant re- 
 plied despondently, " Alas ! madam, your thoughts stray 
 far from home." 
 
 ''They do, my Fleming,'' said the Queen; ''but is it 
 well or kind in you to call them back ? God knows, they 
 have kept the perch this night but too closely. Come, I 
 will recall the gay vision, were it but to punish them. Yes,, 
 at that blythesome bridal Mary herself shall forget the 
 weight of sorrows and the toil of state, and herself once 
 more lead a measure. At whose wedding was it that we 
 last danced, my Fleming ? I think care has troubled my 
 memory — yet something of it I should remember ; canst 
 thou not aid me ? I know thou canst." 
 
 " Alas ! madam,'^ replied the lady 
 
 "What !"said Mary, " wilt thou not help us so far ? 
 This is a peevish adherence to thine own graver opinion, 
 which holds our talk as folly. But thou art court-bred, and 
 wilt well understand me when I say, the Queen commands 
 Lady Fleming to tell her where she led the last " branle." ' 
 
 With a face deadly pale, and a mien as it she were about 
 to fink into the earth, the court-bred dame, no longer daring 
 
332 WAVEBLEY NOVELS 
 
 to refuse obedience, faltered out — ^' Gracious lady — if my 
 memory err not — it was at a masque in Holy rood — at the 
 marriage of Sebastian." 
 
 The unhappy Queen, who had hitherto listened with a 
 melancholy smile, provoked by the reluctance with which 
 the Lady Fleming brought out her story, at this ill-fated 
 word interrupted her with a shriek so wild and loud that the 
 vaulted apartment rang, and both Eoland and Catherine 
 sprang to their feet in the utmost terror and alarm. Mean- 
 time, Mary seemed, by the train of horrible ideas thus sud- 
 denly excited, surprised not only beyond self-command, but 
 for the moment beyond the verge of reason. 
 
 *' Traitress," she said to the Lady Fleming, '^ thou wouldst 
 slay thy sovereign. Call my French guards — amoi!-a moi! 
 mes FranQais ! I am beset with traitors in mine own palace 
 — they have murdered my husband. Eescue ! — rescue ! for 
 the Queen of Scotland ! " She started up from her chair ; 
 her features, late so exquisitely lovely in their paleness, now 
 inflamed with the fury of frenzy, and resembling those of a 
 Bellona. " We will take the field ourself," she said ; " warn 
 the city — warn Lothian and Fife — saddle our Spanish barb 
 and bid French Paris see our petronel be charged ! Better 
 to die at the head of our brave Scotsmen, like our grandfather 
 at Floddan, than of a broken heart like our ill-starred 
 father." 
 
 " Be patient — be composed, dearest sovereign ! " said Cath- 
 erine ; and then addressing Lady Fleming angrily, she added, 
 *' How can you say aught that reminded her of her hus- 
 band?" 
 
 The word reached the ear of the unhappy princess, who 
 caught it up, speaking with great rapidity. ^' Husband ! — 
 What husband ? Not his most Christian Majesty ; he is ill 
 at ease — he cannot mount on horseback. Not him of the 
 Lennox ; bnt it was the Duke of Orkney thou wouldst say." 
 
 *^' For God's love, madam, be patient ! " said the Lady Flem- 
 ing. 
 
 '' But the Queen's excited imagination could by no entreaty 
 be diverted from its course. '' Bid him come hither to our 
 aid," she said, *'and bring with him his lambs, as he calls 
 them — Bowton, Hay of Talla, Black Ormiston, and his kins- 
 man Hob. Fie ! how swart they are, and how they smell of 
 sulphur ! What ! closeted with Morton ? Nay, if the Doug- 
 las and the Hepburn hatch the complot together, the bird, 
 when it breaks the shell, will scare Scotland. . Will it not, 
 my Fleming ? " 
 
THE ABBOT 883 
 
 ''She grows wilder and wilder/' said Fleming ; " we have 
 too many hearers for these strange words." 
 
 '' Koland/' said Catherine, *' in the name of God begone ! 
 You cannot aid us here. Leave us to deal with her alone, 
 away — away ! '' 
 
 She thrust him to the door of the ante-room ; yet even 
 when he had entered that apartment and shut the door, he 
 could still hear the Queen talk in a loud and determined 
 tone, as if giving forth orders, until at length the voice died 
 away in a feeble and continued lamentation. 
 
 At this crisis Catherine entered the ante-room. '' Be not 
 too anxious," she said, ^' the crisis is now over ; but keep the 
 door fast — let no one enter until she is more composed." 
 
 '''In the name of God, what does this mean ?" said the 
 page ; ^' or what was there in the Lady Fleming's words to 
 excite so wild a transport ?" 
 
 *' 0, the Lady Fleming — the Lady Fleming," said Cath- 
 erine, repeating the words impatiently — the Lady Fleming 
 is a fool : she loves her mistress, yet knows so little how to 
 express her love that, were the Queen to ask her for very 
 poison, she would deem it a point of duty not to resist her 
 commands. I could have torn her starched head-tire from 
 her formal head. The Queen should have as soon had 
 the heart out of my body as the word ' Sebastian ' out of 
 my lips. That that piece of weaved tapestry should be a 
 woman, and yet not have wit enough to tell a lie ! " 
 
 '^ And what was this story of Sebastian ?" said the page. 
 " By Heaven, Catherine, you are all riddles alike." 
 
 '^ You are as great a fool as Fleming," returned the im- 
 patient maiden. ^' Know ye not, that on the night of Henry 
 barnley's murder, and at the blowing up of the Kirk of Field, 
 the Queen's absence was owing to her attending on a masque 
 at Holyrood, given by her to grace the marriage of this same 
 Sebastian, who, himself a favored servant, married one of 
 her female attendants, who was near to her person ? " 
 
 '^ By St. Giles," said the page, '' I wonder not at her pas- 
 sion, but only marvel by what forgetfulness it was that she 
 could urge the Lady Fleming with such a question." 
 
 '* I cannot account for it," said Catherine ; *' but it seems 
 as if great and violent grief or horror sometimes obscure the 
 memory, and spread a cloud, like that of an exploding cannon, 
 over the circumstances with which they are accompanied. But 
 I may not stay here, where I came not to moralize with your 
 wisdom, but simply to cool my resentment against that 
 unwise Lady Fleniing, which I think hath now some- 
 
334 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 what abated, so that I shall endure her presence without an\ 
 desire to damage either her curch or vasquine. Meanwhile, 
 keep fast that door : I would not for my life that any ot 
 these heretics saw her in the unhappy state which, brought on 
 her as it has been by the success of their own diabolical plot- 
 ting, they would not stick to call, in their snuffling cant, the 
 judgment of Providence/' 
 
 She left the apartment just as the latch of the outward 
 door was raised from without. But the bolt, which Roland 
 had drawn on the inside, resisted the efforts of the person 
 desirous to enter. 
 
 '* Who is there ?'' said Graeme aloud. 
 
 *'It is I," replied the harsh and yet low voice of th& 
 steward Dryfesdale. 
 
 *' You cannot enter now," returned the youth. 
 
 "And wherefore ? " demanded Dryfesdale, " seeing I comb 
 but to do my duty, and inquire what mean the shrieks from 
 the apartment of the Moabitish woman. Wherefore, I say, 
 since such is mine errand, can I not enter ?" 
 
 " Simply," replied the youth, " because the bolt is dmwn, 
 and I have no fancy to undo it. I have the right side of the 
 door to-day, as you had last night." 
 
 "Thou art ill-advised, thou malapert boy," replied the 
 steward, "to speak to me in such a fashion ; but I shall in- 
 form my lady of thine insolence." 
 
 " The insolence," said the page, "is meant for thee only, 
 in fair guerdon of thy discourtesy to me. For thy lady's in- 
 formation, I have answer more courteous : you may say that 
 the Queen is ill at ease, and desires to be disturbed neither 
 by visits nor messages." 
 
 " I conjure you, in the name of God,'' said the old man, 
 with more solemnity in his tone than he had hitherto used, 
 'Ho let me know if her malady really gains power on her !" 
 
 " She will have no aid at your hand or at your lady's ; 
 wherefore, begone, and trouble us no more : we neither want, 
 nor will accept of, aid at your hands." 
 
 With this positive reply, the steward, grumbling and dis- 
 satisfied, returned downstairs. 
 
CHAPTEE XXXII 
 
 It is the curse of kings to be attended 
 
 By slaves, who take their humors for a warrant 
 
 To break into the bloody house of life, 
 
 And on the winking of authority 
 
 To understand a law. 
 
 King John. 
 
 The Lady of Lochleven sat alone in her chamber, endeavor- 
 ing with sincere but imperfect zeal to fix her eyes and her at- 
 tention on the black-letter Bible which lay before her, bound 
 in velvet and embroidery, and adorned with massive silver 
 clasps and knosps. But she found her utmost efforts unable 
 to withdraw her mind from the resentful recollection of 
 what had last night passed betwixt her and the Queen, in 
 which the latter had with such bitter taunt reminded her of 
 lier early and long-repented transgression. 
 
 '* Why," she said, ^' should I resent so deeply that another 
 reproaches me with that which I have never ceased to 
 make matter of blushing to myself ? And yet, why should 
 this woman, who reaps — at least, has reaped — the fruits of 
 my folly, and has jostled my son aside from the throne — why 
 should she, in the face of all my domestics and of her own, 
 dare to upbraid me with my shame ? Is she not in my 
 power ? Does she not fear me ? Ha ! wily tempter, I will 
 wrestle with thee strongly, and with better suggestions than 
 my own evil heart can supply ! " 
 
 She again took up the sacred volume, and was endeavor- 
 ing to fix her attention on its contents, when she was dis- 
 turbed by a tap at the door of her room. It opened at her 
 command, and the steward Dryfesdale entered, and stood 
 before her with a gloomy and perturbed expression on his 
 brow. 
 
 *' What has chanced, Dryfesdale, that thou lookest thus ?" 
 said his mistress. '^ Have there been evil tidings of my son 
 or of my grandchildren ? " 
 
 '^No, lady," replied Dryfesdale, ^^but you were deeply in- 
 iulted last night, and I fear me thou art as deeply avenged 
 this morning. Where is the chaplain ? " 
 
 "What mean ^pu by ,bints so .4ark, .^ud » g[ueatiQn.flD 
 
 .335 
 
336 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 sudden ? The chaplain, as you well know, is absent at 
 Perth upon an assembly of the brethren." 
 
 *'I care not/' answered the steward ; "he is but a priest 
 of Baal." 
 
 " Dryf esdale," said the lady, sternly, "what meanest 
 thou ? I have ever heard that in the Low Countries thou 
 didst herd with the Anabaptist preachers — those boars which 
 tear up the vintage. But the ministry which suits me and 
 my house must content my retainers." 
 
 " I would I had good ghostly counsel, though," replied 
 the steward, not attending to his mistresses rebuke, and 
 seeming to speak to himself. " This woman of Moab " 
 
 " Speak of her with reverence," said the lady : " she is a 
 king's daughter." 
 
 " Be it so," replied Dryfesdale ; "she goes where there is 
 little difference betwixt her and a beggar's child. Mary of 
 Scotland is dying." 
 
 " Dying, and in my castle ! " said the lady, starting up in 
 alarm ; " of what disease, or by what accident ?" 
 
 " Bear patience, lady. The ministry was mine." 
 
 " Thine, villain and traitor ! how didst thou dare " 
 
 "I heard you insulted, lady — I heard you demand venge- 
 ance ; I promised you should have it, and I promised you 
 should have it, and I now bring tidings of it." 
 
 " Dryfesdale, I trust thou ravest ?" said the lady. 
 
 " I rave not," replied the steward. " That which was 
 written of me a million of years ere I saw the light must be 
 executed by me. She hath that in her veins that, I fear me, 
 will soon stop the springs of life." 
 
 " Cruel villain," exclaimed the lady, " thou hast not 
 poisoned her ? " 
 
 " And if I had," said Dryfesdale, " what does it so greatly 
 merit ? Men bane vermin ; why not rid them of their 
 enemies so ? In Italy they will do it for a cruizuedor." 
 
 " Cowardly ruffian, begone from my sight !" 
 
 " Think better of my zeal, lady," said the steward, " and 
 judge not without looking around you. Lindesay, Ruthven, 
 and your kinsmen Morton poniarded Rizzio, and yet you 
 riow see no blood on their embroidery ; the Lord Semple 
 stabbed the Lord of Sanquhar — does his bonnet sit a jot 
 more awry on his brow ? What noble lives in Scotland who 
 has not had a share, for policy or revenge, in some such 
 dealing ? And who imputes it to them ? Be not cheated 
 with names : a dagger or a draught work to the same end, 
 and are little unlike — a glass phial imprisons the one, and a 
 
THE ABBOT 337 
 
 leathern sheath the other ; one deals with the hrain, the other 
 Bluices the blood. Yet, I say not I gave aught to this lady." 
 
 " What dost thou mean by thus dallying with me ? " said 
 the lady ; ''as thou wouldst save thy neck from the rope it 
 merits, tell me the whole truth of this story ; thou hast long 
 been known a dangerous man/' 
 
 '^ Ay, in my master's service I can be cold and sharp as 
 my sword. Be it known to you that, when last on shore, I 
 consulted with a woman of skill and power, called Nicneven, 
 of whom the country has rung for some brief time past. 
 Fools asked for her charms to make them beloved, misers 
 for means to increase their store ; some demanded to know 
 the future — an idle wish, since it cannot be altered ; others 
 ■vVould have an explanation of the past — idler still, since it 
 cannot be recalled. I heard their queries with scorn, and 
 demanded the means of avenging myself of a deadly enemy, 
 for I grow old, and may trust no longer to Bilboa blade. She 
 gave me a packet. 'Mix that,' said she, 'with any liquid, 
 and thy vengeance is complete."' 
 
 '^ Villain! and you mixed it with the food of this im- 
 prisoned lady, to the dishonor of thy master's house ? " 
 
 ''To redeem the insulted honor of my master's house, I 
 mixed the contents of the packet with the jar of succory 
 water. They seldom fail to drain it, and the woman loves 
 it over all." 
 
 " It was a work of hell," said the Lady Lochleven, '' both 
 the asking and the granting. "Away, wretched man let us 
 see if aid be yet too late ! " 
 
 " They will not admit us, madam, save we enter by force. 
 I have been twice at the door, but can obtain no entrance." 
 
 "We will beat it level with the ground, if needful. And 
 hold — summon Randal hither instantly. Randal, here is a 
 foul and evil chance befallen ; send off a boat instantly to 
 Kinross — the chamberlain Luke Lundin is said to have 
 skill. Fetch off, too, that foul witch Nicneven ; she shall 
 first counteract her own spell, and then be burned to ashes in 
 in the island of St. Serf. Away — away. Tell them to hoist 
 sail and ply oar, as ever they would have good of the Doug- 
 las's hand!" 
 
 ** Mother Nicneven will not be lightly found, or fetched 
 hither on these conditions," answered Dryfesdale. 
 
 " Then grant her full assurance of safety. Look to it, 
 for thine own life must answer for this lady's recovery." 
 
 " I might have guessed that," said Dryfesdale, sullenly ; 
 "but it is my comfort I have avenged mine own cause as 
 
 22 
 
ii38 WAVEBLEY NOVELS 
 
 well as yours. She hath scoffed and scripped at me, and en- 
 couraged her saucy minion of a page to ridicule my stiff gait 
 and slow speech. I felt it borne in upon me that I was to 
 be avenged on them.'* 
 
 ^' Go to the western turret," said the lady, " and remain 
 there in ward until we see how this gear will terminate. I 
 know thy resolved disposition : thou wilt not attempt escape." 
 
 *'Not were the walls of the turret of egg-shells, and the 
 lake sheeted with ice," said Dryfesdale. ^^ I am well taught, 
 and strong in belief that man does nought of himself ; he is 
 but the foam on the billow, which rises, bubbles, and bursts, 
 not by its own effort, but by the mightier impulse of fate 
 which urges him. Yet, lady, if I may advise, amid this zeal 
 for the life of the Jezebel of Scotland, forget not what is due 
 to thine own honor, and keep the matter secret as you may." 
 
 So saying, the gloomy fatalist turned from her, and 
 stalked off with sullen composure to the place of confinement 
 allotted to him. 
 
 His lady caught at his last hint, and only expressed her 
 fear that the prisoner had partaken of some unwholesome 
 food, and was dangerously ill. The castle was soon alarmed 
 and in confusion. Randal was despatched to the shore to 
 fetch off Lundin, with such remedies as could counteract 
 poison ; and with farther instructions to bring Mother Nic- 
 neven, if she could be found, with full power to pledge the 
 Lady of Lochleven's word for her safety. 
 
 Meanwhile, the Lady of Lochleven herself held parley at 
 the door of the Queen's apartment, and in vain urged the 
 page to undo it. 
 
 ** Foolish boy !" she said, "thine own life and thy lady*s 
 are at stake. Open, I say, or we will cause the door to be 
 broken down." 
 
 *' I may not open the door without my royal mistress's 
 orders," answered Roland. " She has been very ill, and now 
 she slumbers ; if you wake her by using violence, let the con- 
 sequence be on you and your followers." 
 
 ''Was ever woman in a strait so fearful !" exclaimed the 
 Lady of Lochleven. " At least, thou rash boy, beware that 
 no one tastes the food, but especially the jar of succory water." 
 
 She then hastened to the turret, where Dryfesdale had com- 
 posedly resigned himself to imprisonment. She found him 
 reading, and demanded of him, '^ Was thy fell potion of 
 speedy operation ? " 
 
 '' Slow," answered the steward. " The hag asked me 
 , jdiichJ chose ; I told her J. ipYeci ,<a slow ..and sure revenger 
 
THE ABBOT 
 
 ' Kevenge/ said I, ' is the highest-flavor draught which man 
 tastes upon earth, and he should sip it by little and little, not 
 drain it up greedily at once/ " 
 
 *' Against whom, unhappy man, couldst thou nourish so 
 fell a revenge ? " 
 
 " I had many objects, but the chief was that msolent 
 
 '^The boy! thou inhuman man,'' exclaimed the lady; 
 '' what could he do to deserve thy malice ?" _ 
 
 ** He rose in your favor, and you graced him with your 
 commissions— that was one thing. He rose in that of George 
 Douglas also—that was another. He was the favorite of the 
 Calvinistic Henderson, who hated me because my spirits dis- 
 owns a separate priesthood. The Moabitish Queen held him 
 dear— winds from each opposing point blew in his favor ; the 
 old servitor of your house was held lightly among ye ; above 
 all, from the first time I saw his face, I longed to destroy 
 
 *'*What fiend have I nurtured in my house ! " replied the 
 lady. '' May God forgive me the sin of having given thee 
 food and raiment ! " 
 
 '' You might not choose, lady,'' answered the steward. 
 " Long ere this castle was builded— ay, long ere the islet 
 which sustains it reared its head above the blue water- 1 
 was destined to be your faithful slave, and you to be my un- 
 grateful mistress. Remember you not when I plunged amid 
 the victorious French, in the time of this lady's mother, and 
 brought off your husband, when those who had hung at the 
 same breasts with him dared not attempt the rescue ? Re- 
 member how I plunged into the lake when your grandson's 
 skiff was overtaken by the tempest, boarded, and steered her 
 safe to the land. Lady, the servant of a Scottish baron is 
 he who regards not his own life or that of any other, save 
 his master. And, for the death of the woman, I had tried 
 the potion on her sooner, had not Master George been her 
 taster. Her death— would it not be the happiest news that 
 Scotland ever heard ? Is she not of the bloody Gr.isian stock, 
 whose sword was so often red with the blood of God's saints ? 
 Is she not the daughter of the wretched tyrant James, whom 
 Heaven cast down from his kingdom and his pride, even as 
 the king of Babylon was smitten ? " 
 
 " Peace, villain ! " said the lady, a thousand varied recollec- 
 tions thronging on her mind at the mention of her roy?il 
 lover's name — '' peace, and disturb not the ashes of the dead 
 —of the royal, of the unhappy dead. Read thy Bible ; and 
 
340 WAVEELEY NOVELS 
 
 may God grant thee to avail thyself better of its contents 
 than thou hast yet done ! '' She departed hastily, and as she 
 reached the next apartment, the tears rose to her eyes so 
 hastily that she was compelled to stop and use her ker- 
 chief to dry them. '' I expected not this," she said, '^ no 
 more than to have drawn water from the hard flint, or sap 
 from a withered tree. I saw with a dry eye the apostacy and 
 shame of George Douglas — the hope of my son^s house, the 
 child of my love ; and yet I now weep for him who has so 
 long lain in his grave — ^for him. to whom I owe it that his 
 daughter can make a scoffing and a jest of my name ! But 
 she is Ms daughter ; my heart, hardened against her for so 
 many causes, relents when a glance of her eye places her 
 father unexpectedly before me ; and as often her likeness to 
 that true daughter of the house of Guise, her detested 
 mother, has again confirmed my resolution. But she must 
 not — must not die in my house, and by so foul a practise. 
 Thank God, the operation of the potion is slow, and may be 
 counteracted ! I will to her apartment once more. But ! 
 that hardened villain, whose fidelity we held in such esteem, 
 and had such high proofs of ! What miracle can unite so 
 much wickedness and so much truth in one bosom ! " 
 
 The Lady of Lochleven was not aware how far minds of a 
 certain gloomy and determined cast by nature may be warped 
 by a keen sense of petty injuries and insults, combining with 
 the love of gain, and sense of self-interest, and amalgamated 
 with the crude, wild, and indigested fanatical opinions which 
 this man had gathered among the crazy sectaries of Germany ; 
 or how far the doctrines of fatalism, which he had embraced 
 so decidedly, sear the human conscience, by representing our 
 actions as the result of inevitable necessity. 
 
 During her visit to the prisoner, Roland had communi- 
 cated to Catherine the tenor of the conversation he had had 
 with her at the door of the apartment. The quick intel- 
 ligence of that lively maiden instantly comprehended the 
 outline of what was believed to have happened, but hei 
 prejudices hurried her beyond the truth. 
 
 *^They meant to have poisoned us," she exclaimed in 
 horror, " and there stands the fatal liquor which should have 
 done the deed ! Ay, as soon as Douglas ceased to be our 
 taster, our food was likely to be fatally seasoned. Thou, 
 Roland, who should have made the essay, wert readily doomed 
 to die with us. 0, dearest Lady Fleming, pardon — pardon 
 for the injuries I said to you in my anger : your words were 
 prompted by Heaven to save our lives, and especially that of 
 
> 
 
 THE ABBOT 341 
 
 the injured Qneen. But what have we now to do ? That 
 old crocodile of the lake will be presently back to shed her 
 hypocritical tears over our dying agonies. Lady Fleming, 
 what shall we do ? ^' 
 
 " Our Lady help us in our need ! " she replied ; '' how 
 should I tell, unless we were to make our plaint to the 
 Regent?'' 
 
 " Make our plaint to the devil/' said Catherine, im- 
 patiently, *' and accuse his dam at the foot of his burning 
 throne ! The Queen still sleeps ; we must gain time. The 
 poisoning hag must not know her scheme has miscarried ; 
 the old envenomed spider has but too many ways of mending 
 her broken web. The jar of succory water," said she — 
 " Roland, if thou be'st a man, help me : empty the jar on the 
 chimney or from the window ; make such waste among the 
 viands as if we had made our usual meal, and leave the frag- 
 ments on cup' and porringer, but taste nothing as thou lovest 
 thy life. I will sit by the Queen, and tell her, at her wak- 
 ing, in what a fearful pass we stand. Her sharp wit and 
 ready spirit will teach us what is best to be done. Mean- 
 while, till farther notice, observe, Roland, that the Queen is 
 in a state of torpor ; that Lady Fleming is indisposed — that 
 character (speaking in a lower tone) will suit her best, and 
 save her wits some labor in vain. I am not so much indis- 
 posed, thou understandest." 
 
 *' And I,'' said the page. 
 
 *' You ! " replied Catherine, '* you are quite well ; who 
 thinks it worth while to poison puppy-dogs or pages ? " 
 
 *' Does this levity become the time ?'' asked the page. 
 
 "It does — it does,'' answered Catherine Seyton. "If the 
 Queen approves, I see plainly how this disconcerted attempt 
 may do us good service." 
 
 She went to work while she spoke, eagerly assisted by 
 Roland. The breakfast- table soon displayed the appearance 
 as if the meal had been eaten as usual ; and the ladies retired 
 as softly as possible into the Queen's sleeping-apartment. 
 At a new summons of the Lady Lochleven, the page undid 
 the door, and admitted her into the ante-room, asking her 
 pardon for having withstood her, alleging in excuse that the 
 Queen had fallen into a heavy slumber since she had broken 
 her fast. 
 
 ** She has eaten and drunken, then ? " said the Lady of 
 Lochleven. 
 
 " Surely," replied the page, " according to her grace's 
 ordinary custom^ unless upon the fasts of the church. 
 
M2 WAVER LEY NOVELS 
 
 "The jar/' she said, hastily examining it, ''it is empty ; 
 drank the Lady Mary the whole of this water ?" 
 
 *' A. large part, madam ; and I heard the Lady Catherine 
 Seyton jestingly upbraid the Lady Mary Fleming with having 
 taken more than a just share of what remained, so that but 
 little fell to her own lot/' 
 
 *' And are they well in health f said the Lady of Loch- 
 leven. 
 
 *' Lady Fleming," said the page, '' complains of lethargy, 
 and looks duller than usual ; and the Lady Catherine of 
 Seyton feels her head somewhat more giddy than is her 
 wont/' 
 
 He raised his voice a little as he said these words, to ap- 
 prise the ladies of the part assigned to each of them, and not, 
 perhaps, without the wish of conveying to the ears of Cath- 
 erine the page-like jest which lurked in the allotment. 
 
 '' I will enter the Queen's chamber," said the Lady Loch- 
 leven ; '' my business is express." 
 
 As she advanced to the door, the voice of Catherine Sey- 
 ton was heard from within. *'No one can enter here ; the 
 Queen sleeps." 
 
 ''I will not be controled, young lady," replied the Lady 
 of Lochleven ; " there is, I wot, no inner bar, and I will 
 enter in your despite.". 
 
 '' There is, indeed, no inner bar," answered Catherine, 
 firmly, '* but there are the staples where that bar should be ; 
 and into those staples have I thrust mine arm, like an an- 
 cestress of your own, when, better employed than the 
 Douglasses of our days, she thus defended the bedchamber 
 of her sovereign against murderers. Try your force, then, 
 and see whether a Seyton cannot rival in courage a maiden 
 of the house of Douglas." 
 
 '' I dare not attempt the pass at such risk," said the Lady 
 of Lochleven. '' Strange, that this princess, with all that 
 justly attaches to her as blameworthy, should preserve such 
 empire over the minds of her attendants ! Damsel, I give 
 thee my honor that I come for the Queen's safety and ad- 
 vantage. Awake her, if thou lovest her, and pray her leave 
 that I may enter. I will retire from the door the whilst." 
 
 " Thou*^ wilt not awaken the Queen ? " said the Lady 
 Fleming. 
 
 " What choice have we ?" said the ready-witted maiden, 
 ''unless you deem it better to wait till the Lady Lochleven 
 iierself plays lady of the bedchamber. Her fit of patience w^ll 
 not last long, and the Queen must be prepared to meet her." 
 
TBE A:BB6f ^ 
 
 " Bnt tlion wilt bring back her Grace's fit by thus disturb- 
 ing her/' 
 
 " Heaven forbid ! '' replied Catherine ; " but if so, it must 
 pass for an effect of the poison. I hope better things, and 
 that the Queen will be able when she wakes to form her own 
 judgment in this terrible crisis. Meanwhile, do thou, dear 
 Lady Fleming, practise to look as dull and heavy as the 
 alertness of thy spirit will permit. '* 
 
 Catherine kneeled by the side of the Queen's bed, and, 
 kissing her hand repeatedly, succeeded at last in awakening 
 without alarming her. She seemed surprised to find that 
 she was ready dressed, but sate up in her bed, and appeared 
 so perfectly composed that Catherine Seyton, without farther 
 preamble, judged it safe to inform her of the predicament 
 m which they were placed. Mary turned pale, and crossed 
 herself again and again, when she heard the imminent danger 
 in which she had stood. But, like the Ulysses of Homer — 
 
 Hardly waking yet, 
 Sprung in her mind the momentary wit, 
 
 and she at once understood her situation, with the dangers 
 and advantages that attended it. 
 
 *'We cannot do better, '^ she said, after her hasty confer- 
 ence with Catherine, pressing her at the same time to her 
 bosom, and kissing her forehead — ''we cannot do better 
 than to follow the scheme so happily devised by thy quick 
 wit and bold affection. Undo the door to the Lady Loch- 
 loven. She shall meet her match in art, though not in 
 perfidy. Fleming, draw close the curtain, and get thee be- 
 hind it — thou art a better tire-woman than an actress ; do 
 but breathe heavily, and, if thou wilt, groan slightly, and it 
 will top thy part. Hark ! they come. Now, Catherine of 
 Medicis, may thy spirit inspire me, for a cold northern brain 
 is too blunt for this scene ! " 
 
 Ushered by Catherine Seyton, and stepping as light as she 
 could, the Lady Lochleven was shown into the twilight 
 apartment, and conducted to the side of the couch, where 
 Mary, pallid and exhausted from a sleepless night and the 
 subsequent agitation of the morning, lay extended so list- 
 lessly as might well confirm the worst fears of her hostess. 
 
 ''Now, God forgive us our sins \" said the Lady of Loch- 
 leven, forgetting her pride, and throwing herself on her 
 knees by the side of her bed ; " it is too true — she is 
 murdered ! '* 
 
 " Who is in the chamber ?" said Mary, as if awaking from 
 
844 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 A heavy sleep. '' Seyton, Fleming, where are you ? I heard 
 a strange vdce. Who waits ? Call Oourcelles.'^ 
 
 "Alas I her memory is at Holyrood, though her body is at 
 Lochleven. Forgive, madam/' continued the lady, *Mf I 
 call your attention to me. 1 am Margaret Erskine, of the 
 house of Mar, by marriage Lady Douglas of Lochleven." 
 
 " 0, our gentle hostess," answered the Queen, " who hath 
 such care of our lodgings and of our diet. We cumber you 
 too much and too long, good Lady of Lochleven ; but we 
 now trust your task of hospitality is wellnigh ended." 
 
 *' Her words go like a knifo through my heart," said the 
 Lady of Lochleven. ''With a breaking heart, I pray your 
 Grace to tell me what is your ailment, that aid may be had, 
 if there be yet time ?" 
 
 ''Nay, my ailment," replied the Queen, "is nothing worth 
 telling, or worth a leech's notice : my limbs feel heavy — my 
 heart feels cold — a prisoner's limbs and heart are rarely 
 otherwise. Fresh air, methinks, and freedom would soon 
 revive me ; but as the estates have ordered it, death alone 
 can break my prison doors." 
 
 " Were it possible, madam,'' said the lady, " that your 
 liberty could restore your perfect health, I would myself 
 encounter the resentment of the Regent — of my son, Sir 
 William — of my whole friends, rather than you should meet 
 your fate in this castle I " 
 
 " Alas ! madam," said the Lady Fleming, who conceived 
 the time propitious to show that her own address had been 
 held too lightly of ; " it is but trying what good freedom 
 may work upon us ; for myself, I think a free walk on the 
 greensward would do me much good at heart." 
 
 The Lady of Lochleven rose from the bedside, and darted 
 a penetrating look at the elder valetudinary. *' Are you so 
 evil-disposed, Lad}^ Fleming ?" 
 
 " Evil-disposed indeed, madam," replied the court dame, 
 " and more especially since breakfast." 
 
 " Help ! — help I " exclaimed Catherine, anxious to break 
 off a conversation which boded her schemes no good — " help ! 
 I say — help ! the Queen is about to pass away. Aid her. 
 Lady Lochleven, if you be a woman ! ' 
 
 The lady hastened to support the Queen's head, who, turn- 
 ing her eyes towards her with an air of great languor, ex- 
 claimed, "Thanks, my dearest Lady of Lochleven ; notwith- 
 standing some passages of late, I have never misconstrued or 
 misdoubted your affection to our house. It was proved, aa 
 I have heard, before I was born." 
 
THE ABBOT 345 
 
 The Lady Lochleven sprung from the floor, on which she 
 had again knelt, and having paced the apartment in great 
 disorder, flung open the lattice, as if to get air. 
 
 '^ Now, Our Lady forgives me ! " said Catherine to herself ; 
 ^' how deep must the love of sarcasm be implanted in the 
 breasts of us women, since the Queen, with all her sense, 
 will risk ruin rather then rein in her wit ! '^ She then ad- 
 ventured, stooping over the Queen's person, to press her arm 
 with her hand, saying, at the same time, '' For God's sake, 
 madam, restrain yourself ! *' 
 
 '' Thou art too forward, maiden," said the Queen ; but 
 immediately added, in a low whisper, ^' Forgive me, Cather- 
 ine : but when I felt the hag's murderous hands busy about 
 my head and neck, I felt such disgust and hatred that I 
 must have said something or died. But I will be schooled 
 to better havior, only see that thou let her not touch me." 
 
 " Now, God be praised ! " said the Lady of Lochleven, 
 withdrawing her head from the window, ^' the boat comes as 
 fast as sail and oar can send wood through water. It brings 
 the leech and a female — certainly, from the appearance, the 
 very person I was in quest of. Were she but well out of this 
 castle, with our honor safe, I would that she were on the 
 top of the wildest mountain in Norway ; or I would I had 
 been there myself, ere I had undertaken this trust ! " 
 
 While she thus expressed herself, standing apart at one 
 window, Roland Grseme, from the other, watched the boat 
 bursting through the waters of the lake, which glided from 
 its side in ripple and in foam. He, too, became sensible 
 that at the stern was seated the medical chamberlain, clad in 
 his black velvet cloak ; and that his own relative, Magdalen 
 Graeme, in her assumed character of Mother Nicneven, stood 
 in the bow, her hands clasped together, and pointed towards 
 the castle, and her attitude, even at that distance, express- 
 ing enthusiastic eagerness to arrive at the landing-place. 
 They arrived there accordingly ; and while the supposed 
 witch was detained in a 'room beneath, the physician was 
 ushered to the Queen's apartment, which he entered with 
 all due professional solemnity. Catherine had, in the mean- 
 while, fallen back from the Queen's bed, and taken an op- 
 portunity to whisper to Roland, '* Methinks, from the infor- 
 mation of the threadbare velvet cloak and the solemn beard, 
 there would be little trouble in haltering yonder ass. But 
 thy grandmother, Roland — thy grandmother's zeal will ruin 
 us, if she get not a hint to dissemble." 
 
 Boland, without reply, glided towards the door of the apart* 
 
346 WA V:EBLEY JVO VELiS 
 
 ment, crossed the parlor, and safely entered iae ani«-cham • 
 ber ; but when he attempted to pass farther, the word 
 ** Back ! Back ! " echoed from one to the other by two men 
 armed with carabines, convinced him that the Lady of Loch- 
 leven's suspicions had not, even in the midst of her alarms, 
 been so far lulled to sleep as to omit the precaution of sta- 
 tioning sentinels on her prisoners. He was compelled, there- 
 fore, to return to the parlor, or audience-chamber, in which 
 he found the lady of the castle in conference with her learned 
 leech. 
 
 '' A truce with your cant phrase and your solemn foppery.. 
 Lundin,'' in such terms she accosted the man of art, *' and 
 let me know instantly, if thou canst tell, whether this lady 
 hath swallowed aught that is less than wholesome. '' 
 
 '^Nay, but good lady — honored patroness — to whom I am 
 alike bondsman in my medical and official capacity, deal 
 reasonably with me. If this, mine illustrious patient, will 
 not a answer a question, saving with sighs and moans ; if 
 that other honorable lady will do nought but yawn in my 
 face when I inquire after the diagnostics ; and if that othei 
 young damsel, who I profess is a comely maiden " 
 
 " Talk not to me of comeliness or of damsels," said the 
 Lady of Lochleven ; " I say, are they evil-disposed ? In one 
 word, man, have they taken poison — ay or no ? " 
 
 ** Poisons, madam," said the learned leech, "are of va- 
 rious sorts. There is your animal poison, as the Lepus ma- 
 rinus, as mentioned by Dioscorides and Galen ; there are 
 mineral and semi-mineral poisons, as those compounded of 
 sublimate, regulus of antimony, vitriol, and the arsenical 
 salts ; there are your poisons from herbs and vegetables, as 
 the aqua cymbalariae, opium, aconitum, cantharides, and 
 the like ; there are also " 
 
 ''Now, out upon thee for a learned fool ! And I myself 
 am no better for expecting an oracle from such a log," said 
 the lady. 
 
 " Nay, but if your ladyship will have patience. If I knew 
 what food they have partaken of, or could see but the rem- 
 nants of what they have last eaten ; for as to the external 
 and internal symptoms, I can discover nought like ; for, a? 
 Galen saith in his second book De Antidotis " 
 
 '' Away, fool !" said the lady ; " send me that hag hither; 
 she shall avouch what it was that she hath given to the 
 wretch Dryfesdale, or the pilniewinks and thumbikins shall 
 wrench it out of her finger-joints ! " 
 
 " Art hath no enemy unless the ignorant,*' said the morte 
 
THE ABBOT 34T 
 
 f5ed doctor ; veiling, however, his remark under the Latin 
 version, and stepping apart into a corner to watch the result. 
 
 In a minute or two Magdalen Graeme entered the apart- 
 ment, dressed as we have described her at the revel, but 
 with her muffler thrown back, and all affectation of disguise. 
 She was attended by two guards, of whose presence she did 
 not seem even to be conscious, and who followed her with an 
 air of embarrassment and timidity, which was probably 
 owing to their belief in her supernatual power, coupled with 
 the effect produced by her bold and undaunted demeanor. 
 She confronted the Lady of Lochleven, who seemed to en- 
 dure with high disdain the confidence of her air and manner. 
 
 '' Wretched woman !" said the lady, after essaying for a 
 moment to bear her down, before she addressed her, by the 
 stately severity of her look, '' what was that powder which 
 thou didst give to a servant of this house, by name Jasper 
 Dryfesdale, that he might work out with it some slow and 
 secret vengeance ? Confess its nature and properties, or, by 
 the honor of Douglas, I give thee to fire and. stake before 
 the sun is lower ! " 
 
 '^ Alas !*' said Magdalen Graeme in reply, ^' and when be- 
 came a Douglas or a Douglas's man so unfurnished of his 
 means of revenge that he should seek them at the hands of 
 a poor and solitary woman ? The towers in which your 
 captives pine away into unpitied graves yet stand fast on 
 their foundations ; the crimes wrought in them have not yet 
 burst their vaults asunder ; your men have still their cross- 
 bows, pistolets, and daggers ; why need you seek to herbs or 
 charms for the execution of your revenges ? " 
 
 " Hear me, foul hag," said the Lady of Lochleven — " but 
 what avails speaking to thee ? Bring Dryfesdale hither, 
 and let them be confronted together.'' 
 
 " You may spare your retainers the labor," replied Mag- 
 dalen Graeme. ^' I came not here to be confronted with a 
 base groom, nor to answer the interrogatories of James's 
 heretical leman. I came to speak with the Queen of Scot- 
 land. Give place there ! " 
 
 And while the Lady of Lochleven stood confounded at 
 her boldness, and at the reproach she had cast upon herself, 
 Magdalen Graeme strode past her into the bedchamber of the 
 Queen, and, kneeling on the floor, made a salutation as if, 
 in the Oriental fashion, she meant to touch the earth with 
 her forehead. 
 
 " Hail, Princess ! " she said — " hail, daughter of many a 
 king, but graced above them all in that thou art called to 
 
348 WAVERLET NOVELS 
 
 suffer for the true faith ! — hail to thee, the pure gold of 
 whose crown has been tried in the seven-times-heated furnace 
 of affliction — hear the comfort which God and Our Lady 
 send thee by the mouth of thy unworthy servant. But 
 first " and stooping her head she crossed herself repeat- 
 edly, and, still upon her knees, appeared to be rapidly reciting 
 some formula of devotion. 
 
 *' Seize her and drag her to the massymore ! To the 
 deepest dunojeon with the sorceress, whose master, the devil, 
 could alone have inspired her with boldness enough to insult 
 the mother of Douglas in his own castle ! " Thus spoke the 
 incensed Lady of Lochleven. 
 
 But the physician presumed to interpose. *' I pray of you, 
 honored madam, she be permitted to take her course without 
 Interruption. Peradventure we shall learn something con- 
 cerning the nostrum she hath ventured, contrary to law and 
 the rules of art, to adhibit to these ladies, through the 
 medium of the steward Dryfesdale." 
 
 '* For a fool,'' replied the Lady of Lochleven, *' thou hast 
 counseled wisely. I will bridle my resentment till their 
 conference be over." 
 
 '^ God forbid, honored lady,*' said Doctor Lundin, '* that 
 you should suppress it longer — nothing may more endanger 
 the frame of your honored body ; and truly, if there be witch- 
 craft in this matter, it is held by the vulgar, and even by 
 solid authors on demonology, that three scruples of the ashes 
 of the witch, when she hath been well and carefully burned 
 at a stake, is a grand catholicon in such matter, even as they 
 prescribe crinis cam's rahidi — a hair of the dog that bit the 
 patient — in cases of hydrophobia. I warrant neither treat- 
 ment, being out of the regular practise of the schools ; but, 
 in the present case, there can be little harm in trying the 
 conclusion upon this old necromancer and quacksalver : fiat 
 experimentum, as m'B say, 171 corpore vili" 
 
 ** Peace, fool ! " said the lady, '' she is about to speak." 
 
 At that moment Magdalen Grgeme arose from her knees, 
 and turued her countenance on the Queen, at the same time 
 advancing her foot, extending her arm, and assuming the 
 mien and attitude of a sybil in frenzy. As her gray hair 
 floated back from beneath her coif, and her eye gleamed fire 
 from under its shaggy eyebrow, the effect of her expressive, 
 though emaciated, "features was heightened by an enthusiasm 
 approaching to insanity, and her appearance struck with 
 awe all who were present. Her eyes for a time glanced 
 wildly around, as if seeking for something to aid her in 
 
THE ABBOT 349 
 
 collecting her powers of expression, and her lips had a 
 nervous and quivering motion, as those of one who would 
 fain speak, yet rejects as inadequate the words which present 
 themselves. Mary herself caught the infection as if by a 
 sort of magnetic influence, and raising herself from her bed, 
 without being able to withdraw her eyes from those of 
 Magdalen, waited as if for the oracle of a pythoness. She 
 waited not long ; for no sooner had the enthusiast collected 
 herself than her gaze became intensely steady, her features 
 assumed a determined energy, and when she began to speak, 
 the words flowed from her with a profuse fluency which 
 might have passed for inspiration, and which, perhaps, she 
 herself mistook for such. 
 
 " Arise,'' she said, '^ Queen of France and of England ! 
 Arise, lioness of Scotland, and be not dismayed, though the 
 nets of the hunters have encircled thee ! Stoop not to feign 
 with the false ones, whom thou shalt soon meet in the field. 
 The issue of battle is with the God of armies, but by battle 
 thy cause shall be tried. Lay aside, then, the arts of lower 
 mortals, and assume those which become a queen ! True 
 defender of the only true faith, the armory of Heaven is 
 open to thee ! Faithful daughter of the church, take the 
 keys of St. Peter, to bind and to loose ! Eoyal Princess of 
 %he land, take the sword of St. Paul, to smite and to shear I 
 There is darkness in thy destiny ; but not in these towers, 
 -not under the rule of their haughty mistress, shall that 
 destiny be closed. In other lands the lioness may crouch to 
 ,the power of the tigress, but not in her own : not in Scotland 
 jhall the Queen of Scotland long remain captive ; nor is the 
 Eate of the royal Stuart in the hands of the traitor Douglas, 
 "jet the Lady of Lochleven double her bolts and deepen 
 ler dungeons, they shall not retain thee. Each element 
 ihall give thee its assistance ere thou shalt continue captive : 
 the land shall lend its earthquakes, the water its waves, the 
 air its tempests, the fire its devouring flames, to desolate this 
 house, rather than it shall continue the place of thy captivity. 
 Hear this and tremble, all ye who fight against the light, 
 for she says it to whom it hath been assured ! " 
 
 She was silent, and the astonished physician said, '' H 
 there was ever an energumene, or possessed demoniac, in 
 our days, there is a devil speaking with that woman's 
 tongue I " 
 
 *' Practise," said the Lady of Lochleven, recovering her 
 surprise — ''here is all practise and imposture. To the 
 dungeon with her I " 
 
350 WA VERLET NOVELS 
 
 '^ Lady of Lochleven," said Mary, arising from her bed, 
 and coming forward with her wonted dignity, ^*^ere you 
 make arrest on any one in our presence, hear me but one 
 word. I have done you some wrong : I believed you privy 
 to the murderous purpose of your vassal, and I deceived you 
 in suffering you to believe it had taken effect. I did you 
 wrong. Lady of Lochleven, for I perceive your purpose to 
 aid me was sincere. We tasted not of the liquid, nor are 
 we now sick, save that we languish for our freedom." 
 
 " It is avowed like Mary of Scotland," said Magdalen 
 Graeme ; ^' and know, besides, that had the Queen drained 
 the draught to the dregs, it was harmless as the water from 
 a sainted spring. Trow ye, proud woman," she added, 
 addressing herself to the Lady of Lochleven, " that I — I — 
 would have been the wretch to put poison in the hands of a 
 servant or vassal of the house of Lochleven, knowing whom 
 that house contained ? as soon would I have furnished drug 
 to slay my own daughter ! " 
 
 *' Am I thus bearded in mine own castle ?" said the lady ; 
 " to the dungeon with her ! She shall abye what is due to 
 the vender of poisons and practiser of witchcrafts. " 
 
 * * Yet hear me for an instant. Lady of Lochleven,^^ said 
 Mary : *'and do you," to Magdalen, '' be silent at my com- 
 mand. Your steward, lady, has by confession attempted 
 my life and those of my household, and this woman hath 
 done her best to save them, by furnishing him with what 
 was harmless, in place of the fatal drugs which he expected. 
 Methinks I propose to you but a fair exchange when I say I 
 forgive your vassal with all my heart, and leave vengeance 
 to God and to his conscience, so that you also forgive the 
 boldness of this woman in your presence ; for we trust you 
 do not hold it as a crime that she substituted an innocent 
 beverage for the mortal poison which was to have drenched 
 our cup ! " 
 
 " Heaven forefend, madam," said the lady, *' that I should 
 account that a crime which saved the house of Douglas from 
 a foul breach of honor and hospitality ! We have written to 
 our son touching our vassal's delict, and he must abide his 
 doom, which will most likely be death. Touching this 
 woman, her trade is damnable by Scripture, and is mortally 
 punished by the wise laws of our ancestry : she also must 
 abide her doom." 
 
 "And have I then," said the Queen, ''no claim on the 
 house of Lochleven for the wrong I have so nearly suffered 
 within their walls ? I ask but in requital the life of a frail 
 
TBB ABBOT 861 
 
 and aged woman, whose brain, as yourself may judge, seems 
 somewhat affected by years and suffering." 
 
 ** If the Lady Mary," replied the inflexible Lady of Loch- 
 leven, '* hath been menaced with wrong in the house of 
 Douglas, it may be regarded as some compensation that 
 her complots have cost that house the exile of a valued 
 son." 
 
 *' Plead no more for me, my gracious sovereign," said 
 Magdalen Graeme, *' nor abase yourself to ask so much as a 
 gray hair of my head at her hands. I knew the risk at which 
 I served my church and my queen, and was ever prompt to 
 pay my poor life as the ransom. It is a comfort to think 
 vthat in slaying me, or in restraining my freedom, or even in 
 injuring that single gray hair, the house whose honor she 
 boasts so highly will have filled up the measure of their 
 shame by the breach of their solemn written assurance of 
 safety." And taking from her bosom a paper, she handed 
 it to the Queen. 
 
 '^ It is a solemn assurance of safety in life and limb," said 
 Queen Mary, ''with space to come and go, under the hand 
 and seal of the chamberlain of Kinross, granted to Magdalen 
 Graeme, commonly called Mother Nicneven, in consideration 
 of her consenting to put herself, for the space of twenty-four 
 hours, if required, within the iron gate of the Castle of 
 Lochleven." 
 
 "Knave!" said the lady, turning to the chamberlain, 
 ■*'how dared you grant her such a protection ?" 
 ' *' It was by your ladyship's orders, transmitted by Randal, 
 as he can bear witness," replied Doctor Lundin ; '' nay, I 
 am only like the pharmacopolist, who compounds the drugs 
 after the order of the mediciner." 
 
 ** I remember — I remember," answered the lady ; '' but I 
 meant the assurance only to be used in case, by residing in 
 another jurisdiction, she could not have been apprehended 
 under our warrant." 
 
 *' Nevertheless," said the Queen, '' the Lady of Lochleven 
 is bound by the action of her deputy in granting the 
 assurance." 
 
 "Madam," replied the lady, "the house of Douglas nave 
 never broken their safe-conduct, and never will : too deeply 
 did they suffer by such a breach of trust, exercised on them- 
 selves, when your Grace's ancestor, the second James, in 
 defiance of the rights of hospitality, and of his own written 
 assurance of safety, poniarded the brave Earl of Douglas with 
 his own hand, and within two yards of the social board at 
 
352 WAVERLET NOVELS 
 
 which he had just before sat the King of Scotland's honored 
 guest/' 
 
 *' Methinks," said the Queen, carelessly, '^ in consideration 
 of so very recent and enormous a tragedy, which I think 
 only chanced some six-score years agone, the Douglasses 
 should have shown themselves less tenacious of the company 
 of their sovereigns than you. Lady of Lochleven, seem to be 
 of mine/' 
 
 '' Let Randal,'' said the lady, '' take the hag back to 
 Kinross, and set her at full liberty, discharging her from 
 our bounds in future, on peril of her head. And let your 
 wisdom (to the chamberlain) keep her company. And fear 
 not for your character, though I send you in such company ; 
 for, granting her to be a witch, it would be a waste of fagots 
 to burn you for a wizard." 
 
 The crestfallen chamberlain was preparing to depart ; but 
 Magdalen Graeme, collecting herself, was about to reply, 
 when the Queen interposed, saying, ^' Good mother, we 
 heartily thank you for your unfeigned zeal towards our per- 
 son, and pray you, as our liege woman, that you abstain 
 from whatever may lead you into personal danger ; and, 
 further, it is our will that you depart without a word of 
 farther parley with any one in this castle. For thy present 
 guerdon, take this small reliquary ; it was given to us by 
 our uncle the Cardinal, and hath had the benediction of the 
 Holy Father himself ; and now depart in peace and in si- 
 lence. For you, learned sir," continued the Queen, ad- 
 vancing to the doctor, w^o made his reverence in a manner 
 doubly embarrassed, by the awe of the Queen's presence, 
 which made him fear to do too little, and by the apprehension 
 of his lady's displeasure, in case he should chance to do too 
 much — " for you, learned sir, as it was not your fault though 
 surely our own good fortune, that we did not need your skill 
 at this time, it would not become us, however circumstanced, 
 to suffer our leech to leave us without such guerdon as we 
 can offer." 
 
 With these words, and with the grace which never forsook 
 her, though, in the present case, there might lurk under it 
 a little gentle ridicule, she offered a small embroidered purse 
 to the chamberlain, who, with extended hand and arched 
 back, his learned face stooping until a physiognomist might 
 hfLve practised the metoposcopical science upon it, as seen 
 from behind betwixt his gambadoes, was about to accept of 
 the professional recompense offered by so fair as well as 
 illustrious an hand. But the lady interposed, and, regard- 
 
THE ABBOT 353 
 
 ing the cliamberlain, said aloud, '' No servant of onr house, 
 without instantly relinquishing that character, and incurring 
 withal our highest displeasure, shall dare receive any gra- 
 tuity at the hand of the Lady Mary/' 
 
 Sadly and slowly the chamberlain raised his depressed 
 stature into the perpendicular attitude, and left the apart- 
 ment dejectedly, followed by Magdalen Graeme, after, with 
 mute but expressive gesture, she had kissed the reliquary with 
 which the Queen had presented her, and raising her clasped 
 hands and uplifted eyes towards Heaven, had seemed to en- 
 treat a benediction upon the royal dame. As she left the 
 castle, and went towards the quay where the boat lay, Roland 
 Graeme, anxious to communicate with her if possible, threw 
 himself in her way, and might have succeeded in exchanging 
 a few words with her, as she was guarded only by the de- 
 jected chamberlain and his halberdiers, but she seemed to 
 have taken, in its most strict and literal acceptation, the 
 command to be silent which she had received from the 
 Queen ; for, to the repeated signs of her grandson, she only 
 replied by laying her finger on her lip. 
 
 Dr. Lundin was not so reserved. Regret for the hand- 
 some gratuity, and for the compulsory task of self-denial 
 imposed on him, had grieved the spirit of that worthy officer 
 a,nd learned mediciner. " Even thus, my friend," said he, 
 squeezing the page's hand as he bade him farewell, ^^ is merit 
 rewarded. I came to cure this unhappy lady ; and I profess 
 she well deserves the trouble, for, say what they will of her, 
 she hath a most winning manner, a sweet voice, a gracious 
 smile, and a most majestic wave of her hand. If she was 
 not poisoned, say, my dear Master Roland, was that fault of 
 mine, 1 being ready to cure her if she had ? and now I am 
 :denied the permission to accept my well-earned honorarium. 
 Galen ! Hippocrates ! is the graduate's cap and doctor's 
 scarlet brought to this pass ? Frustra fatigamus remediis 
 wgros ! " 
 
 He wiped his eyes, stepped on the gunwale, and the boat 
 pushed off from the shore, and went merrily across the lake, 
 which was dimpled by the summer wind.* 
 
 * See Supposed Conspiracy against the Life of Mary. Note 22. 
 
CHAPTER XXXIIL 
 
 Death distant ? No, alas I he's ever with us, 
 And shakes the dart at us in all our actings ; 
 He lurks within our cup, while we're in health ; 
 Sits by our sick-bed, mocks our medicines ; 
 We cannot walk, or sit, or ride, or travel, 
 But Death is by to seize us when he lists. 
 
 The Spanish Father. 
 
 From the agitating scene in the Queen's presence-chamber, 
 the Lady of Lochleven retreated to her own apartment, and 
 ordered the steward to be called before her. 
 
 " Have they not disarmed thee, Dryfesdale ?'' she said, on 
 seeing him enter, accoutered, as usual,with sword and dagger. 
 
 " No ! " replied the old man ; *' how should they ? Your 
 ladyship, when you commanded me to ward, said nought of 
 laying down my arms ; '* and, I think, none of your menials, 
 without your order or your son's, dare approach Jasper 
 Dryfesdale for such a purpose. Shall I now give up my 
 sword to you ? It is worth little now, for it has fought for 
 your house till it is worn down to old iron, like the pantler's 
 old chipping knife.'' 
 
 *'You have attempted a deadly crime — poison under 
 trust." 
 
 ''Under trust — hem ! I know not what your ladyship 
 thinks of it, but the world without thinks the trust was given 
 you even for that very end ; and you would have been well 
 off had it been so ended as I proposed, and you neither the 
 worse nor the wiser." 
 
 '' Wretch ! " exclaimed the lady, '* and fool as well as 
 villain, who could not even execute the crime he had 
 planned !" 
 
 *' I bid as fair for it as man could," replied Dryfesdale. 
 '' I went to a woman — a witch and a Papist. If I found not 
 poison, it was because it was otherwise predestined. I tried 
 lair for it ; but the half-done job may be clouted, if you 
 will." 
 
 ''Villain ! I am even now about to send off an express 
 messenger to my son, to take order how thou shouldst be 
 disposed of. Prepare thyself for death, if thou canst." 
 
 354 
 
I 
 
 THE ABBOT 365 
 
 ''He that looks on death, lady/* answered Dryfesdale, " as 
 fchat which he may not shun, and which has its own fixed 
 and certain hour, is ever prepared for it. He that is hanged 
 in May will eat no flaunes in midsummer — so there is the 
 moan made for the old serving-man. But whom, pray I, 
 send you on so fair an errand ? " 
 
 *' There will be no lack of messengers,*' answered his mis- 
 tress. 
 
 *' By my hand, but there will,** replied the old man : 
 *' your castle is but poorly manned, considering the watches 
 that you must keep, having this charge. There is the warder 
 and two others whom you discarded for tampering with 
 Master George ; then for the warder's tower, the bailie, the 
 donjon — five men mount each guard, and the rest must sleep 
 for the most part in their clothes. To send away another 
 man were to harass the sentinels to death — unthrifty misuse 
 for a household. To take in new soldiers were dangerous, the 
 charge requiring tried men. I see but one thing for it : I 
 will do your errand to Sir William Douglas myself.** 
 
 "That were indeed a resource ! And on what day within 
 twenty years would it be done ? ** said the lady. 
 
 ** Even with the speed of man and horse,** said Dryfesdale ; 
 ''for though I care not much about the latter days of an old 
 8erving-man*s life, yet I would like to know as soon as may 
 be whether my neck is mine own or the hangman*s.** 
 
 " Holdest thou thy own life so lightly ?** said the lady. 
 
 *' Else I had recked more of that of others,** said the pre- 
 destinarian. " What is death ? it is but ceasing to live. 
 And what is living ? a weary return of light and darkness, 
 sleeping and waking, being hungered and eating. Your 
 dead man needs neither candle nor can, neither fire nor 
 feather-bed ; and the joiner*s chest serves him for an eternal 
 frieze jerkin.** 
 
 " Wretched man I believest thou not that after death comes 
 the judgment ?** 
 
 " Lady,** answered Dryfesdale, " as my mistress, I may 
 not dispute your words ; but, as spiritually speaking, you 
 are still but a burner of bricks in Egypt, ignorant of the 
 freedom of the saints ; for, as was well shown to me by that 
 gifted man, Nicolaus Schofferbach, who was martyred by the 
 bloody Bishop of Munster, he cannot sin who doth but ex- 
 ecute that which is predestined, since ** 
 
 "Silence !** said the lady, interrupting him. "Answer 
 me not with thy bold and presumptuous blasphemy, but hear 
 me. Thou hast been long the servant of our house- — ** 
 
356 WAVEBLET NOVELS 
 
 '' The born servant of the Douglas ; they have had the 
 best of me : I served them since I left Lockerbie. I was 
 then ten years old, and you may soon add the threescore 
 of it/' 
 
 " Thy foul attempt has miscarried, so thou art guilty only 
 in intention. It were a deserved deed to hang thee on the 
 warders tower ; and yet, in thy present mind, it were but 
 giving a soul to Satan. I take thine offer, then. Go hence ; 
 here is my packet ; I will add to it but a line, to desire him 
 to send me a faithful servant or two to complete the garrison. 
 Let my son deal with you as he will. If thou art wise, thou 
 wilt make for Lockerbie so soon as thy foot touches dry land, 
 and let tlie packet find another bearer ; at all rates, look it 
 miscarries not." 
 
 '*Nay, madam," replied he, '^I was born, as I said, the 
 Douglases servant, and I will be no corbie-messenger in mine 
 old age ; your message to your son shall be done as truly by 
 me as if it concerned another man^s neck. I take my leave 
 of your honor." 
 
 The lady issued her commands, and the old man was ferried 
 over to the shore, to proceed on his extraordinary pilgrimage. 
 It is necessary the reader should accompany him on his 
 
 J'ourney, which Providence had determined should not be of 
 ong duration. 
 
 On arriving at the village, the steward, although his dis- 
 grace had transpired, was readily accommodated with a 
 horse, by the chamberlain's authority ; and the roads being 
 by no means esteemed safe, he associated himself with Auch- 
 termuchty, the common carrier, in order to travel in his 
 company to Edinburgh. 
 
 The worthy wagoner, according to the established custom 
 of all carriers, stage-coachmen, and other persons in such 
 public authority, from the earliest days to the present, never 
 wanted good reasons for stopping upon the road as often as 
 he would ; and the place which had most captivation for him 
 as a resting-place was a change-house, as it was termed, not 
 very distant from a romantic dell, well known by the name 
 of Keiry Craigs. Attractions of a kind very different from 
 those which arrested the progress of John Auchtermuchty 
 and his wains still continue to hover round this romantic spot, 
 and none has visited its vicinity without a desire to remain 
 long and to return soon. 
 
 Arrived near its favorite "howff," not all the authority 
 of Dryfesdale, much diminished indeed by the rumors of his 
 diggrace, could prevail on the carrier, obstinate as the brutea 
 
THE ABBOT 357 
 
 which he drove, to pass on without his accustomed halt, for 
 which the distance he had traveled furnished little or no pre- 
 tense. Old Keltic, the landlord, who had bestowed his name 
 on a bridge in the neighborhood of his quondam dwelling, 
 received the carrier with his usual festive cordiality, and ad- 
 journed with him into the house, under pretense of impor- 
 tant business, which, I believe, consisted in their emptying 
 together a muchkin stoup of usquebaugh. While the wor- 
 thy host and his guest were thus employed, the discarded 
 steward, with a double portion of moroseness in his gesture 
 and look, walked discontentedly into the kitchen of the 
 place, which was occupied but by one guest. The stranger 
 was a slight figure, scarce above the age of boyhood, and in 
 the dress of a page, but bearing an air of haughty aristocra- 
 tic boldness, and even insolence, in his look and manner 
 that might have made Dryfesdale conclude he had preten- 
 sions to superior rank, had not his experience taught him 
 how frequently these airs of superiority were assumed by the 
 domestics and military retainers of the Scottish nobility. 
 ** The pilgrim's morning to you, old sir,'' said the youth ; 
 " you come, as I think, from Lochleven Castle. What news 
 of our bonny Queen ? A fairer dove was never pent up in so 
 wretched a dovecot ! " 
 
 '^ They that speak of Lochleven, and of those whom its 
 walls contain," answered Dryfesdale, *' speak of what con- 
 cerns the Douglas ; and they who speak of what concerns 
 the Douglas do it at their peril." 
 
 " Do you speak from fear of them, old man, or would you 
 make a quarrel for them ? I should have deemed your age 
 might have cooled your blood." 
 
 " Never, while there are empty-pated coxcombs at each 
 corner to keep it warm." 
 
 "The sight of thy gray hairs keeps mine cold,^^ said the 
 boy, who had risen up and now sat down again. 
 
 "It is well for thee, or I had cooled it with this holly rod," 
 replied the steward. " I think thou be'st one of those swash- 
 bucklers, who brawl in ale-houses and taverns ; and who, if 
 words were pikes, and oaths were Andrew Ferraras, would 
 soon place the religion of Babylon in the land once more, 
 and the woman of Moab upon the throne." 
 
 " Now, by St. Bennet of Seyton," said the youth, "I will 
 strike thee on the face, thou foul-mouthed old railing 
 heretic!" 
 
 " St. Bennet of Seyton ! " echoed the steward ; " a proper 
 warrant is St. Bennet's, and for a proper nest of wolf-birda 
 
358 WA VERXEY NOVELS 
 
 like the Seytons I I will arrest thee as a traitor to King 
 James and the good Regent. Ho ! John Auchtermuchty, 
 raise aid against the king's traitor ! " 
 
 So saying, he laid his hand on the youth's collar, and 
 drew his sword. John Auchtermuchty looked in, but, see- 
 ing the naked weapon, ran faster out than he entered. 
 Keltic, the landlord, stood by and helped neither party, only 
 exclaiming, " Gentlemen 1 — gentlemen ! for the love of 
 Heaven ! " and so forth. A struggle ensued, in which the 
 young man, chafed at Dryfesdale's boldness, and unable, 
 with the ease he expected, to extricate himself from the old 
 man's determined grasp, drew his dagger, and, with the 
 speed of light, dealt him three wounds in the breast and 
 body, the least of which was mortal. The old man sunk on 
 the ground with a deep groan, and the host set up a piteous 
 exclamation of surprise. 
 
 " Peace ! ye bawling hound ! " said the wounded 
 steward ; *' are dagger-stabs and dying men such rarities in 
 Scotland that you should cry as if the house were falling ? 
 Youth, I do not forgive thee, for there is nought betwixt us 
 to forgive. Thou hast done what I have done to more than 
 one ; and I suffer what I have seen them suffer : it was all 
 ordained to be thus and not otherwise. But if thou wouldst 
 do me right, thou wilt send this packet safely to the hands 
 of Sir William of Douglas ; and see that my memory suffer 
 not, as if I would have loitered on mine errand for fear of my 
 life." 
 
 The youth, whose passion had subsided the instant he 
 had done the deed, listened with sympathy and attention, 
 when another person, muffled in his cloak, entered the 
 apartment, and exclaimed — '* Good God ! Dryfesdale, and 
 expiring ! " 
 
 *' Ay, and Dryfesdale would that he had been dead," an- 
 swered the wounded man, *' rather than that his ears had 
 heard the words of the only Douglas that ever was false ; 
 but yet it is better as it is. Good my murderer, and the 
 rest of you, stand back a little and let me speak with this 
 unhappy apostate. Kneel down by me. Master George. 
 You have heard that I failed in my attempt to take away 
 that Moabitish stumbling-block and her retinue ? I gave 
 them that which I thought would have removed the temp- 
 tation out of thy path ; and this, though I had othe> 
 reasons to show to thy mother and others, I did chiefly 
 purpose for love of thee." 
 
 ** For the love of me, base poisoner I " answered Douglai, 
 
THE ABBOT 859 
 
 ''wouldst thou have committed so horrible, so unprovoked 
 a murder, and mentioned my name with it ? " 
 
 " And wherefore not, George of Douglas ? " answered 
 Dryfesdale. " Breath is now scarce with me, but I would 
 spend my last gasp on this argument. Hast thou not, de- 
 spite the honor thou owest to thy parents, the faith that is 
 due to thy religion, the truth that is due to thy king, been 
 so carried away by the charms of this beautiful sorceress, 
 that thou wouldst have helped her to escape from her prison- 
 house, and lent her thine arm again to ascend the throne, 
 which she had made a place of abomination ? Nay, stir not 
 from me — my hand, though fast stiffening, has yet force 
 enough to hold thee. What dost thou aim at — to wed this 
 witch of Scotland ? I warrant thee, thou mayst succeed : 
 her heart and hand have been oft won at a cheaper rate than 
 thou, fool that thou art, would think thyself happy to pay. 
 But, should a servant of thy father's house have seen thee 
 embrace the fate of the idiot Darnley, or of the villain Both- 
 well — the fate of the murdered fool, or of the living pirate 
 . — while an ounce of ratsbane would have saved thee ? " 
 
 ''Think on God, Dryfesdale, ^^ said George Douglas, ''^and 
 leave the utterance of those horrors. Repent if thou canst ; 
 if not, at least be silent. Seyton, aid me to support this 
 dying wretch, that he may compose himself to better 
 thoughts, if it be possible.'^ 
 
 " Seyton ! " answered the dying man — " Seyton ! Is it 
 by a Sey ton's hand that I fall at last ? There is something 
 of retribution in that, since the house had nigh lost a sister 
 by my deed.' Fixing his fading eyes on the youth, he 
 added*, ^' He hath her very features and presence I Stoop 
 down, youth, and let me see thee closer : I would know thee 
 when we meet in yonder world, for homicides will herd to- 
 gether there, and I have been one." He pulled Sey ton's 
 face, in spite of some resistance, closer to his own, looked at 
 him fixedly, and added, "Thou hast begun young; thy 
 career will be the briefer — ay, thou wilt be met with, and 
 that anon : a young plant never throve that was watered 
 with an old man's blood. Yet why blame I thee ? Strange 
 turns of fate," he muttered, ceasing to address Seyton, **I 
 designed what I could not do, and he has done what he did 
 not perchance design. Wondrous, that our will should ever 
 oppose itself to the strong and uncontrollable tide of des- 
 tiny — that we should strive with the stream when we might 
 drift with the current ! My brain will serve me to question 
 it no farther. I would Schofferbach were here. Yet why f 
 
mo WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 1 am on a course which the vessel can hold without a pilot. 
 Farewell, George of Douglas ; I die true to thy father's 
 house." He fell into convulsions at these words and shortly 
 after expired. 
 
 Seyton and Douglas stood looking on the dying man, and 
 when the scene was closed, the former was the first to speak. 
 *' As I live, Douglas, I meant not this, and am sorry ; but 
 he laid hands on me, and compelled me to defend my free- 
 dom, as I best might, with my dagger. If he were ten 
 times thy friend and follower, I can but say that I am sorry.'' 
 
 ^' I blame thee not, Seyton," said Douglas, '* though I 
 lament the chance. There is an overruling destiny above 
 us, though not in the sense in which it was viewed by that 
 wretched man, who beguiled by some foreign mystagogues, 
 used the awful word as the ready apology for whatever he 
 chose to do. We must examine the packet.'*' 
 
 They withdrew into an inner room, and remained deep in 
 consultation, until they were disturbed by the entrance of 
 Keltic, who, with an embarrassed countenance, asked Master 
 George Douglas's pleasure respecting the disposal of the 
 body. ** Your honor knows," he added, ^' that I make my 
 bread by living men, not by dead corpses ; and old Mr. 
 Dryfesdale, who was but a sorry customer while he was 
 alive, occupies my public room now that he is deceased, 
 and can neither call for ale nor brandy." 
 
 " Tie a stone round his neck," said Seyton, ^'and when 
 the sun is down, have him to the Loch of Ore, heave him 
 in, and let him alone for finding out the bottom." 
 
 '^ Under your favor, sir," said George Douglas, '^it shall 
 not be so. Keltic, thou arfc a true fellow to me, and thy 
 having been so shall advantage thee. Send or take the body 
 to the chapel at Scotland Well, or to the church of Ballingry, 
 and tell what tale thou wilt of his having fallen in a brawl 
 with some unruly guests to thine. Auchtermuchty knows 
 not else, nor are the times so peaceful as to admit close look- 
 ing into such accounts." 
 
 *'Nay, let him tell the truth," said Seyton, ''so as it 
 harms out our scheme. Say that Henry Seyton met with him, 
 my good fellow. I care not a brass bod die for the feud." 
 
 " A feud with the Douglas was ever to be feared, how- 
 ever," said George, displeasure mingling with his natural 
 deep gravity of manner. 
 
 ** Not when the best of the name is on my side," replied 
 Seyton. 
 
 " Alas I Henry, if thou meanest me, I am but half a 
 
THE ABBOT 361 
 
 Douglas in this emprize — half head, half heart, and half hand. 
 But I will think on one who can never he forgotten, and be 
 all or more than any of my ancestors was ever. Keltie, say 
 it was Henry Seyton did the deed ; but beware, not a word 
 of me ! Let Auchtermuchty carry this packet (which he 
 had resealed with his own signet) to my father at Edin- 
 burgh ; and here is to pay for the funeral expenses and thy 
 loss of custom.'^ 
 
 " And the washing of the floor,'' said the landlord, '^ which 
 will be an extraordinary job ; for blood, they say, will scarcely 
 ever cleanse out.'' 
 
 '' But as for your plan," said George of Douglas, address- 
 ing Seyton, as if in continuation of what they had been be- 
 fore treating of, '' it has a good face ; but, under your favor, 
 you are yourself too hot and too young, besides other 
 reasons which are most against your playing the part you 
 propose." 
 
 "We will consult the father abbot upon it," said the 
 youth. "Do you ride to Kinross to-night ?" 
 
 " Ay, so I purpose," answered Douglas ; " the night will 
 be dark, and suits a muffled man.* Keltie, I forgot, there 
 should be a stone laid on that man's grave, according his 
 name, and his only merit, which was being a faithful servant 
 te the Douglas." 
 
 "What religion was the man of?" said Seyton; "he 
 used words which made me fear I have sent Satan a subject 
 before his time." 
 
 " I can tell you little of that," said George Douglas ; " he 
 was noted for disliking both Eome and Geneva, and spoke 
 of lights he had learned among the fierce sectaries of Lower 
 Germany ; an evil doctrine it was, if we judge by the fruits. 
 God keep us from presumptuously judging of Heaven's 
 secrets ! " 
 
 • " Amen ! " said the young Seyton, " and from meeting any 
 encounter this evening." 
 
 " It is not thy wont to pray so," said George Douglas. 
 
 "No! I leave that to you," replied the youth, "when 
 you are seized with scruples of engaging with your father's 
 vassals. But I would fain have this old man's blood off these 
 hands of mine ere I shed more. I will confess to the abbot 
 to-night, and I trust to have light penance for ridding the 
 earth of such a miscreant. All I sorrow for is, that he was 
 not a score of years younger. He drew steel first, however, 
 that is one comfort." 
 
 ♦ See Note 23. 
 
CHAPTER XXXIV 
 
 Ay, Pedro. Come you here with mask and lantern. 
 Ladder of ropes and other moonshine tools ? 
 Why, youngster, thou mayst cheat the old duenna. 
 Flatter the waiting* woman, bribe the valet ; 
 But know, that I her father play the gryphon, 
 Tameless and sleepless, proof to fraud or bribe, 
 And guard the hidden treasure of her beauty. 
 
 The Spanish Father. 
 
 The tenor of our tale carries us back to the Castle of Loch- 
 leven, where we take up the order of events on the same 
 remarkable day on which Dryfesdale had been dismissed 
 from the castle. It was past noon, the usual hour of dinner, 
 yet no preparations seemed made for the Queen^s entertain- 
 ment. ■ Mary herself had retired into her own apartment, 
 where she was closely engaged in writing. Her attendants 
 were together in the presence-chamber, and much disposed to 
 speculate on the delay of the dinner ; for it may be recollected 
 that their breakfast had been interrupted. '* I believe in my 
 conscience," said the page, " that, having found the poison- 
 ing scheme miscarry, by having gone to the wrong merchant 
 for their deadly wares, they are now about to try how famine 
 will work upon us."*' 
 
 Lady Fleming was somewhat alarmed at this surmise, but 
 comforted herself by observing, that the chimney of the 
 kitchen had reeked that whole day in a manner which con- 
 tradicted the supposition. Catherine Seyton presently ex- 
 claimed, ** They were bearing the dishes across the court, 
 marshaled by the Lady Lochleven herself, dressed out in her 
 highest and stiffest rug, with her partlet and sleeves of Cyprus, 
 and her huge old-fashioned farthingale of crimson velvet." 
 
 " I believe, on my word," said the page, approaching the 
 window also, " it was in that very farthingale that she capti- 
 vated the heart of gentle King Jamie, which procured our 
 poor Queen her precious bargain of a brother." 
 
 '* That may hardly be, Mastei Roland,^' answered the Lady 
 Fleming, who was a great recorder of the changes of fashion, 
 " since the farthingales came first in when the Queen Re- 
 gent went to St. Andrews, after the battle of Pinkie, an4 
 were then called vertu-gardins ** 
 
THE ABBOT 363 
 
 She would have proceeded farther in this important dis- 
 cussion, but was interrupted by the entrance of the Lady of 
 Lochleven, who preceded the servants bearing the dishes, 
 and formally discharged the duty of tasting each of them. 
 Lady Fleming regretted, in courtly phrase, that the Lady of 
 Lochleven should have undertaken so troublesome an office. 
 
 '^ After the strange incident of this day, madam,^^ said the 
 lady, '^ it is necessary for my honor and that of my son that 
 I partake whatever is offered to my involuntary guest. Please 
 to inform the Lady Mary that I attend her commands/' 
 
 '' Her Majesty,'" replied Lady Fleming, with due emphasis 
 on the word, " shall be informed that the Lady Lochleven 
 waits.'* 
 
 Mary appeared instantly, and addressed her hostess with 
 courtesy, which even approached to something more cordial. 
 **This is nobly done. Lady Lochleven," she said; *^for, 
 though we ourselves apprehend no danger under your roof, 
 our ladies have been much alarmed by this morning's chance, 
 and our meal will be the more cheerful for your presence and 
 assurance. Please you to sit down." 
 
 The Lady Lochleven obeyed the Queen's commands, and 
 Eoland performed the office of carver and attendant as usual. 
 But, notwithstanding what the Queen had said, the meal 
 was silent and unsocial ; and every effort which Mary made 
 to excite some conversation died away under the solemn and 
 chill replies of the Lady of Lochleven. At length it became 
 plain that the Queen, who had considered these advances as 
 a condescension on her part, and who piqued herself justly 
 on her powers of pleasing, became offended at the repulsive 
 conduct of her hostess. After looking with a significant 
 glance at Lady Fleming and Catherine, she slightly shrugged 
 her shoulders and remained silent. A pause ensued, at the 
 end of which the Lady Douglas spoke — " I perceive, madam, 
 I am a check on the mirth of this fair company. I pray you 
 to excuse me ; I am a widow — alone here in a most perilous 
 charge, deserted by my grandson, betrayed by my servant ; 
 I am little worthy of the grace you do me in offering me a 
 seat at your table, where I am aware that wit and pastime 
 are usually expected from the guests." 
 
 '* If the Lady Lochleven is serious," said the Queen, ''we 
 wonder by what simplicity she expects our present meals to 
 be seasoned with mirth. If she is a widow, she lives honored 
 and uncontrolled at the head of her late husband's house- 
 hold. But I know at least of one widowed woman in the 
 world before whom the words 'desertion' and 'betrayal* 
 
S64 WA VERLE T NOVELS 
 
 ought never to be mentioned, since no one has been made so 
 bitterly acquainted with their import/' 
 
 *' I meant not, madam, to remind you of your misfortunes 
 by the mention of mine,'' answered the Lady Lochleven, and 
 there was again a deep silence. 
 
 Mary at length addressed Lady Fleming. *' We can com- 
 mit no deadly sins here, ma honne, where we are so well 
 warded and looked to ; but if we could, this Carthusian si- 
 lence might be useful as a kind of penance. If thou hast 
 adjusted my wimple amiss, my Fleming, or if Catherine 
 hath made a wry stitch in her broidery when she was think- 
 ing of something else than her work, or if Roland Graeme 
 hath missed a wild duck on the wing, and broke a quarrell- 
 pane of glass in the turret window, as chanced to him a week 
 since, now is the time to think on your sins and to repent of 
 them." 
 
 *' Madam, I speak with all reverence,'' said the Lady Loch- 
 leven ; *' but I am old, and claim the privilege of age. Me- 
 thinks your followers might find fitter subjects for repentance 
 than the trifles you mention, and so mention — once more, I 
 crave your pardon — as if you jested with sin and repentance 
 both.'^ 
 
 '^ Yon have been our taster. Lady Lochleven," said the 
 Queen, '' I perceive you would eke out your duty with that 
 of our father confessor ; and since you choose that our con- 
 versation should be serious, may I ask you why the Regent's 
 promise — since your son so styles himself — has not been kept 
 to me in that respect ? From time to time this promise has 
 been renewed, and as constantly broken. Methinks those 
 who pretend themselves to so much gravity and sanctity 
 should not debar from others the religious succors which 
 their consciences require." 
 
 ^' Madam, the Earl of Murray was indeed weak enough," 
 said the Lady Lochleven, "to give so far way to your unhappy 
 prejudices, and a religioner of the Pope presented himself 
 on his part at our town of Kinross. But the Douglas is lord 
 of his own castle, and will not permit his threshold to be 
 darkened, no, not for a single moment, by an emissary belong- 
 ing to the Bishop of Rome." 
 
 " Methinks it were well, then," said Mary, '^ that my Lord 
 Regent would send me where there is less scruple and more 
 charity." 
 
 *'ln this, madam," answered the Lady Lochleven, "you 
 mistake the nature both of charity and of religion. Charitv 
 giveth to those who are in delirium the medicaments which 
 
THE ABBOT 365 
 
 may avail their health, but refuses those enticing cates and 
 liquors which please the palate but augment the disease." 
 
 '^ This your charity. Lady Lochleven, is pure cruelty under 
 the hypocritical disguise of friendly care. I am oppressed 
 amongst you as if you meant the destruction both of my body 
 and soul ; but Heaven will not endure such iniquity forever, 
 and they who are the most active agents in it may speedily 
 expect their reward. '* 
 
 At this moment Randal entered the apartment, with 
 a look so much perturbed that the Lady Fleming uttered a 
 faint scream, the Queen was obviously startled, and the Lady 
 of Lochleven, though too bold and proud to evince any marked 
 signs of alarm, asked hastily what was the matter. 
 
 " Dryfesdale has been slain, madam,'' was the reply — 
 ''murdered as soon as he gained the dry land by young 
 Master Henry Seyton," 
 
 It was now Catherine's turn to start and grow pale. " Has 
 the murderer of the Douglas's vassal escaped ^ " was the 
 lady's hasty question. 
 
 *' There was none to challenge him but old Keltic and the 
 carrier Auchtermuchty," replied Randal, ^^ unlikely men to 
 stay one of the frackest youths in Scotland of his years, and 
 who was sure to have friends and partakers at no great 
 distance." 
 
 ''Was the deed completed ?" said the lady. 
 
 "Done, and done thoroughly," said Randal : "a Seyton 
 seldom strikes twice. But the body was not despoiled," and 
 your honor's packet goes forward to Edinburgh by Auchter- 
 muchty, who leaves Keltic Bridge early to-morrow; marry, 
 he has drunk two bottles of aquavitae to put the fright out 
 of his head, and now sleeps them off beside his cart- 
 avers." 
 
 There was a pause when this fatal tale was told. The 
 Queen and Lady Douglas looked on each other, as if each 
 thought how she could best turn the incident to her own 
 advantage in the controversy which was continually kept 
 alive betwixt them. Catherine Seyton kept her kerchief at 
 her eyes and wept. 
 
 " You see, madam, the bloody maxims and practise of the 
 deluded Papists," said Lady Lochleven. 
 . "Nay, madam," replied the Queen, "say rather you see 
 the deserved judgment of Heaven upon a Caivinistical 
 poisoner." 
 
 " Dryfesdale was not of the Church of Geneva or of Scot- 
 land/' said the Lady Lochleven, hastily. 
 
366 WAVERLET NOVELS 
 
 *' He was a heretic, however/' replied Mary. " There is 
 but one true and unerring guide : the others lead alike into 
 error. " 
 
 " Well, madam, I trust it will reconcile you to your re- 
 treat that this deed shows the temper of those who might 
 wish you at liberty. Bloodthirsty tyrants and cruel man- 
 quellers are they all, from the Clan Ranald and Clan Tosach 
 in the north to the Fernieherst and Buccleuch in the south, 
 the murdering Seytons in the east, and " 
 
 " Methinks, madam, you forget that I am a Seyton?" 
 said Catherine, withdrawing her kerchief from her face, 
 which was now colored with indignation. 
 
 " If I had forgot it, fair mistress, your forward bearing 
 would have reminded me," said Lady Lochleven. 
 
 ** If my brother has slain the villain that would have poi- 
 soned his sovereign and his sister,'' said Catherine, '*Iam 
 only so far sorry that he should have spared the hangman 
 his proper task. For aught further, had it been the beat 
 Douglas in the land, he would have been honored in falling 
 by the Sey ton's sword." 
 
 " Farewell, gay mistress," said the Lady of Lochleven, 
 rising to withdraw ; *'it is such maidens as you who make 
 giddy-fashioned revelers and deadly brawlers. Boys must 
 needs rise, forsooth, in the grace of some sprightly damsel, 
 who thinks to dance through life as through a French gal- 
 liard." She then made her reverence to the Queen, and 
 added, '^ To you also, madam, fare you well till curfew time, 
 when I will make, perchance, more bold than welcome in 
 attending upon your supper board. Come with me, Randal, 
 and tell me more of this cruel fact." 
 
 *''Tis an extraordinary chance," said the Queen, when 
 she had departed ; *' and, villain as he was, I would this man 
 had been spared time for repentance. We will cause some- 
 thing to be done for his soul, if we ever attain our liberty, 
 and the church will permit such grace to an heretic. Bat, 
 tell me, Catherine, ma mignonne — this brother of thine, who 
 is so * frack,^ as the fellow called him, bears he the same 
 wonderful likeness to thee as formerly ? " 
 
 *' If your Grace means in temper, you know whether I am 
 so frack as the serving-man spoke him." 
 
 " Nay, thou art prompt enough in all reasonable con- 
 science," replied the Queen ; " but thou art my own darling 
 notwithstanding. But I meant, is this thy twin-brother as 
 like thee in form and features as formerly ? I remember 
 thy dear mother alleged it as a reason for destining thee to 
 
THE ABBOT 867 
 
 the yeil that, were ye both to go at large, thou wouldst surelj 
 get the credit of some of thy brother's mad pranks/' 
 
 *'I believe, madam,'' said Catherine, " there are some un- 
 usually simple people even yet who can hardly distinguish 
 betwixt us, especially when, for diversion's sake, my brother 
 hath taken a female dress," and, as she spoke, she gave 
 a quick glance at Roland Graeme, to whom this conversa- 
 tion conveyed a ray of light welcome as ever streamed into 
 the dungeon of a captive through the door which opened 
 to give him freedom. 
 
 *' He must be a handsome cavalier this brother of thine, 
 if he be so like you," replied Mary. *^ He was in France, I 
 think, for these late years, so that I saw him not at Holy- 
 rood." 
 
 *' His looks, madam, have never been much found fault 
 with," answered Catherine Seyton ; '* but I would he had 
 less of that angry and heady spirit which evil times have 
 encouraged amongst our young nobles. God knows, I 
 grudge not his life in your Grace's quarrel, and love him for 
 the willingness with which he labors for your rescue. But 
 wherefore should he brawl with an old ruffianly serving-man, 
 and stain at once his name with such a broil and his hands 
 with the blood of an old and ignoble wretch ? " 
 
 '^'Nay, be patient, Catherine ; I will not have thee traduce 
 my gallant young knight. With Henry for my knight, and 
 Roland Graeme for my trusty squire, methinks I am like a 
 princess of romance, who may shortly set at defiance the 
 dungeons and the weapons of all wicked sorcerers. But 
 my head aches with the agitation of the day. Take me La 
 Mer lies Histoires, and resume where we left off on Wednes- 
 day. Our Lady help thy head, girl, or rather may she help 
 thy heart ! I asked thee for the Sea of Histoires, and thou 
 hast brought La Cronique d' Amour !" 
 
 Once embarked upon the Sea of Histoires, the Queen con- 
 tinued her labors with her needle, while Lady Fleming and 
 Catherine read to her alternately for two hours. 
 
 As to Roland Graeme, it is probable that he continued in 
 ■ecret intent upon the Chronicle of Love, notwithstanding 
 th'd censure which the Queen seemed to pass upon that 
 branch of study. He now remembered a thousand circum- 
 stances of voice and manner, which, had his own preposses- 
 sion been less, must surely have discriminated the brother 
 from the sister ; and he felt ashamed that, having as it were 
 by heart every particular of Catherine's gestures, words, and 
 manners, he should have thought her, notwithstanding her 
 
368 WA VERLEY NO VELS 
 
 spirits and levity, capable of assuming the bold step, loud 
 tones, and forward assurance which accorded well enough 
 with her brother's hasty and masculine character. He en- 
 deavored repeatedly to catch a glance of Catherine's eye, 
 that he might judge how she was disposed to look upon him 
 since he had made the discovery, but he was unsuccessful ; 
 for Catherine, when she was not reading herself, seemed to 
 take so much interest in the exploits of the Teutonic Knights 
 against the heathens of Esthonia and Livonia, that he could 
 not surprise her eye even for a second. But when, closing 
 the book, the Queen commanded their attendance in the 
 garden, Mary, perhaps of set purpose (for Roland's anxiety 
 could not escape so practised an observer), afforded him a 
 favorable opportunity of accosting his mistress. The Queen 
 commanded them to a little distance, while she engaged 
 Lady Fleming in a particular and private conversation ; the 
 subject whereof, we learn from another authority, to have 
 been the comparative excellence of the high standing ruff 
 and the falling band. Roland must have been duller and 
 more sheepish than ever was youthful lover if he had not 
 endeavored to avail himself of this opportunity. 
 
 '* I have been longing this whole evening to ask of you, 
 fair Catherine,'' said the page, *'how foolish and unappre- 
 hensive you must have thought me, in being capable to 
 mistake betwixt your brother and you ?" 
 
 *' The circumstance does indeed little honor to my rustic 
 manners," said Catherine, '' since those of a wild young man 
 were so readily mistaken for mine. But I shall grow wiser 
 in time ; and with that view I am determined not to think of 
 your follies, but to correct my own." 
 
 " It will be the lighter subject of meditation of the two," 
 said Roland. 
 
 ^' I know not that," said Catherine, very gravely ; '^ I fear 
 we have been both unpardonably foolish." 
 
 *' I have been mad," said Roland — '^ unpardonably mado 
 But you, lovely Catherine " 
 
 " 1," said Catherine, in the same tone of unusual gravity, 
 " have too long suffered you to use such expressions towards 
 me. I fear I can permit it no longer, and I blame myself 
 for the pain it may give you." 
 
 " And what can have happened so suddenly to change our 
 relation to each other, or alter, with such sudden cruelty, 
 your whole deportment to me ? " 
 
 '' I can hardly tell," replied Catherine, '^ unless it is that 
 the events of the day have impressed on my mind the meces- 
 
THE ABBOT 3d0 
 
 sity of our observing more distance to each other. A chance 
 similar to that which betrayed to you the existence of my 
 brother may make known to Henry the terms you have used 
 to me ; and, alas ! his whole conduct, as well as his deed this 
 day, makes me too justly apprehensive of the consequences/' 
 
 ^^Nay, fear nothing for that, fair Catherine/' answered 
 the page, '' I am well able to protect myself against risks of 
 that nature/' 
 
 '' That is to say," replied she, '' that you would fight with 
 my twin-brother to show your regard for his sister ? I have 
 heard the Queen say, in her sad hours, that men are, in love 
 or in hate, the most selfish animals of creation ; and your 
 carelessness in this matter looks very like it. But be not 
 so much abashed ; you are no worse than others." 
 
 ^'^You do me injustice, Catherine," replied the page, "I 
 thought but of being threatened with a sword, and did not 
 remember in whose hand your fancy had placed it. If your 
 brother stood before me, with his drawn weapon in his hand, 
 80 like as he is to you in word, person, and favor, he might 
 shed my life's blood ere I could find in my heart to resist him 
 to his injury." 
 
 '' Alas ! " said she, *^^ it is not my brother alone. But you 
 remember only the singular circumstances in which we have 
 met in equality, and I may say in intimacy. You think not 
 that, whenever I re-enter my father's house, there is a gulf 
 between us you may not pass but with the peril of your life. 
 Your only known relative is of wild and singular habits, of 
 a hostile and broken clan, the rest of your lineage unknown ; 
 forgive me that I speak what is the undeniable truth." 
 
 ''Love, my beautiful Catherine, despises genealogies," an- 
 swered Eoland Graeme. 
 
 '' Love may, but so will not the Lord Seyton," rejoined 
 the damsel. 
 
 " The Queen, thy mistress and mine, she will intercede. 
 ! drive me not from you at the moment I thought myself 
 most happy ! And if I shall aid her deliverance, said not 
 yourself that you and she would become my debtors ? " 
 
 '' All Scotland will become your debtors," said Catherine. 
 '' But for the active effects you might hope from our grati- 
 tude, you must remember I am wholly subjected to my 
 father ; and the poor Queen is, for a long time, more likely 
 to be dependent on the pleasure of the nobles of her party 
 than possessed of power to control them." 
 
 '' Beit so," replied Eoland ; " my deeds shall control prej- 
 udice itself : it is a bustling world, and I will have my share. 
 
370 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 The Knight of Avenel, high as he now stands, rose from as 
 obscure an origin as mine." 
 
 *' Ay/' said Catherine, " there spoke the doughty knight 
 of romance, that will cnt his way to the imprisoned princess 
 through fiends and fiery dragons ! " 
 
 " But if I can set the princess at large, and procure her 
 the freedom of her own choice,'' said the page, " where, dear- 
 est Catherine, will that choice alight ?" 
 
 *' Release the princess from duresse, and she will tell you," 
 said the damsel ; and, breaking off the conversation abruptly, 
 she joined the Queen so suddenly that Mary exclaimed, half- 
 aloud — ' 
 
 " No more tidings of evil import — no dissension, I trust, in 
 my limited household ? " Then looking on Catherine's blush- 
 ing cheek and Roland's expanded brow and glancing eye — 
 ** No — no," she said, *' I see all is well. Ma petite mignonm, 
 go to my apartment and fetch me down — let me see — ay, 
 fetch my pomander box." 
 
 And having thus disposed of her attendant in the manner 
 best qualified to hide her confusion, the Queen added, speak- 
 ing apart to Roland, '^ I should at least have two grateful 
 subjects of Catherine and you ; for what sovereign but Mary 
 would aid true love so willingly ? Ay, you lay your hand on 
 your sword — your petite flamberge a rientheTe. Well, short 
 time will show if all the good be true that is protested to us. 
 I hear them toll curfew from Kinross. To our chamber ; this 
 old dame hath promised to be with us again at our evening 
 meal. Were it not for the hope of speedy deliverance, her 
 presence would drive me distracted. But I will be patient." 
 
 " I profess," said Catherine, who just then entered, ^' I 
 would I could be Henry, with all a man's privileges, for one 
 moment : I long to throw my plate at that confect of pride, 
 and formality, and ill-nature ! " 
 
 The Lady Fleming reprimanded her young companion for 
 this explosion of impatience, the Queen laughed, and they 
 went to the presence-chamber, where almost immediately 
 entered supper and the lady of the castle The Queen, strong 
 in her prudent resolutions, endured her presence with great 
 fortitude and equanimity, until her patience was disturbed 
 by a new form, which had hitherto made no part of the 
 ceremonial of the castle. When the other attendant had re- 
 tired, Randal entered, bearing the keys of the castle fastened 
 upon a chain, and, announcing that the watch was set and 
 the gates locked, delivered the keys with all reverence to the 
 Lady of Lochleven. 
 
THE ABBOT 371 
 
 The Queen and her ladies exchanged with each other a 
 look of disappointment, anger, and vexation ; and Mary said 
 aloud, ^' We cannot regret the smallness of our court, when 
 we see our hostess discharge in person so many of its offices. 
 In addition to her charges of principal steward of our house- 
 hold and grand almoner, she has to-night done duty as 
 captain of our guard." 
 
 ** And will continue to do so in future, madam," answered 
 the Lady Lochleven, with much gravity ; ^' the history of 
 Scotland may teach me how ill the duty is performed which 
 is done by an accredited deputy. We have heard, madam, 
 of favorites of later date, and as little merit, as Oliver 
 Sinclair." 
 
 *'0, madam," replied the Queen, "my father had hii 
 female as well as his male favorites : there were the Ladies 
 Sandilands and Olifaunt,* and some others, methinks ; but 
 their names cannot survive in the memory of so grave a person 
 as you ," 
 
 The Lady Lochleven looked as if she could have slain the 
 Queen on the spot, but commanded her temper, and retired 
 from the apartment, bearing in her hand the ponderous 
 bunch of keys. 
 
 '^ Now God be praised for that woman^s youthful frailty \" 
 said the Queen. " Had she not that weak point in her 
 character, I might waste my words on her in vain. But 
 that stain is the very reverse of what is said of the witch's 
 mark : I can make her feel there, though she is otherwise in- 
 sensible all over. But how say you, girls — here is a new diffi- 
 culty. How are these keys to be come by ? There is no de- 
 ceiving or bribing this dragon, I trow." 
 
 "May I crave to know," said Roland, "whether, if your 
 Grace were beyond the walls of the castle, you could find 
 means of conveyance to the firm land, and protection when 
 you are there ? " 
 
 "Trust us for that, Roland," said the Queen; "for to 
 that point our scheme is indifferent well laid." 
 
 " Then, if your Grace will permit me to speak my mind, 
 I think I could be of some use in this matter." 
 
 " As how, my good youth ? Speak on," said the Queen, 
 "and fearlessly." 
 
 " My patron, the Knight of Avenel, used to compel tba 
 Youth educated in his household to learn the use of ax au J 
 riammer, and working in wood and iron ; he used to spef Jc 
 
 * The names of these ladies, and a third frail favorite of James, 
 «ire prefserred in an epigram too gaillard for quotation. 
 
372 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 of old northern champions who forged their own weapons, 
 and of the Highland captain, Donald nan Ord, or Donald of 
 the Hammer, whom he himself knew, and who used to work 
 at the anvil with a sledge-hammer in each hand. Some said 
 he praised this art because he was himself of churFs blood. 
 However, I gained some practise in it, as the Lady Catherine 
 Seyton partly knows ; for since we were here I wrought her 
 a silver brooch/' 
 
 ''Ay," replied Catherine, ''but you should tell her Grace 
 that your workmanship was so indifferent that it broke to 
 pieces next day, and I flung it away." 
 
 "Believe her not, Eoland/' said the Queen; "she wept 
 when it was broken, and put the fragments into her bosom. 
 But. for your scheme — could your skill avail to forge a sec- 
 ond set of keys ? " 
 
 "No, madam, because I know not the wards. But I am 
 convinced I could make a set so like that hateful bunch 
 which the lady bore off even now, that, could they be ex- 
 changed against them by any means, she would never dream 
 she was possessed of the wrong." 
 
 '^ And the good dame, thank Heaven, is somewhat blind," 
 said the Queen ; " but then for a forge, my boy, and the 
 means of laboring unobserved ? " 
 
 " The armorer's forge, at which I used sometimes to work 
 with him, is the round vault at the bottom of the turret ; 
 he was dismissed with the warder for being supposed too 
 much attached to George Douglas. The people are accus- 
 tomed to see me busy there, and I warrant I shall find some 
 excuse that will pass current with them for putting bellows 
 and anvil to work." 
 
 The scheme has a promising face,'' said the Queen ; 
 
 about it, my lad, with all speed, and beware the nature of 
 your work is not discovered." 
 
 "Nay, I will take the liberty to draw the bolt against 
 chance visitors, so that I will have time to put away what I 
 am working upon before I undo the door." 
 
 "Will not that of itself attract suspicion, in a place where 
 it is so current already ?" said Catherine. 
 
 "Not a whit," replied Eoland ; "Gregory the armorer, 
 and every good hammerman, locks himself in when he is 
 about some masterpiece of craft. Besides, something must 
 be risked." 
 
 " Part we then to-night," said the Queen, " and God bless 
 you, my children ! If Mary's head ever rises above water, 
 you shall all rise along with her.'' 
 
 
CHAPTER XXXV 
 
 It is a time of danger, not of revel; 
 When churchmen turn to masquers. 
 
 Spanish Father, 
 
 The enterprise of Roland Graeme appeared to prosper. A 
 trinket or two, of which the work did not surpass the sub- 
 stance (for the materials were silver, supplied by the Queen), 
 were judiciously presented to those most likely to be inquisi- 
 tive into the labors of the forge and anvil, which they thus 
 were induced to reckon profitable to others and harmless in 
 itself. Openly, the page was seen working about such 
 .trifles. In private he forged a number of keys resembling 
 so nearly in weight and in form those which were presented 
 every evening to the Lady Lochleven, that, on a slight in- 
 spection, it would have been difficult to perceive the differ- 
 ence. He brought them to the dark rusty color by the use 
 of salt and water ; and, in the triumph of his art, presented 
 them at length to Queen Mary in her presence-chamber, 
 about an hour before the tolling of the curfew. She looked 
 at them with pleasure, but at the same time with doubt. 
 *^ I allow,'' she said, '' that the Lady Lochleven's eyes, 
 which are not of the clearest, may be well deceived, could 
 we pass those keys on her in place of the real implements 
 of her tyranny. But how is this to be done, and which of 
 my little court dare attempt this tour de jongleur with any 
 chance of success ? Could we but engage her in some earn- 
 est matter of argument ! but those which I hold with her 
 always have been of a kind which make her grasp her keys 
 the faster, as if she said to herself — ' Here I hold what sets 
 me above your taunts and reproaches.' And even for her 
 liberty, Mary Stuart could not stoop to speak the proud 
 heretic fair. What shall we do ? Shall Lady Fleming try 
 her eloquence in describing the last new head-tire from 
 Paris ? Alas ! the good dame has not changed the fashion 
 of her head-gear since Pinkie field, for aught that I know. 
 Shall my mignonne Catherine sing to her one of those touch- 
 ing airs which draw the very souls out of me and Roland 
 Grasme ? Alas ! Dame Margaret Douglas would rather 
 
 37« 
 
374 WAVERLET NOVELS 
 
 hear a Huguenot psalm of Clement Marot, sung to the tune 
 of R4veiUez-vous, belle endormie. Cousins and liege coun- 
 selors, what is to be done, for our wits are really astray in 
 this matter ? Must our man-at-arms and the champion of 
 our body, Roland Grasme, manfully assault the old lady, and 
 take the keys from her par vote du fait ? " 
 
 "Nay! with your Grace^s permission," said Roland, ''I 
 do not doubt being able to manage the matter with more 
 discretion ; for though, in your Grace's service, I do not 
 fear " 
 
 **A host of old women,** interrupted Catherine, '^each 
 armed with rock and spindle ; yet he has no fancy for pikes 
 and partizans, which might rise at the cry of * Help ! a 
 Douglas — a Douglas ! ' " 
 
 " They that do not fear fair ladies' tongues," continued 
 the page, " need dread nothing else. But, gracious liege, I 
 am wellnigh satisfied that I could pass the exchange of these 
 keys on the Lady Lochleven ; but I dread the sentinel who 
 is now planted nightly in the garden, which, by necessity, 
 we must traverse." 
 
 "Our last advices from our friend on the shore have 
 promised us assistance in that matter," replied the Queen. 
 
 " And is your Grace well assured of the fidelity and watch- 
 fulness of those without ?*' 
 
 " For their fidelity 1 will answer with my life, and for 
 their vigilance I will answer with my life. I will give thee 
 instant proof, my faithful Roland, that they are ingenuous 
 and trusty as thyself. Come hither. Nay, Catherine, at- 
 tend us ; we carry not so deft a page into our private cham- 
 ber alone. Make fast the door of the parlor, Fleming, and 
 warn us if you hear the least step — or stay, go thou to the 
 door, Catherine (in a whisper), thy ears and thy wits are 
 both sharper. Good Fleming, attend us thyself. (And 
 again she whispered) Her reverend presence will be as safe a 
 watch on Roland as thine can, so be not jealous, mignonne" 
 
 Thus speaking, they were lighted by the Lady Fleming 
 into the Queen's bedroom, a small apartment enlightened by 
 a projecting window. 
 
 " Look from that window, Roland," she said ; " see you 
 amongst the several lights which begin to kindle, and to 
 glimmer palely through the gray of the evening from the 
 village of Kinross — seest thou, I say, one solitary spark apart 
 from the others, and nearer it seems to the verge of the 
 water ? It is no brighter at this distance than the torch of 
 the poor glow-worm, and yet, my good youth, that light is 
 
 1 
 
THE ABBOT 375 
 
 more dear to Mary Stuart thaa every star that twinkles in 
 the blue vault of heaven. By that signal, I know that more 
 than one true heart is plotting my deliverance ; and without 
 that consciousness, and the hope of freedom it gives me, I 
 had long since stooped to my fate and died of a broken 
 heart. Plan after plan has been formed and abandoned ; 
 but still the light glimmers, and while it glimmers my hope 
 lives. ! how many evenings have I sat musing in despair 
 over our ruined schemes, and scarce hoping that I should 
 again see that blessed signal ; when it has suddenly kindled, 
 and, like the lights of St. Elmo in a tempest, brought hope 
 and consolation where there was only dejection and de- 
 gpair ! " 
 
 '' If I mistake not,'* answered Roland, '' the candle shines 
 from the house of Blinkhoolie, the mail-gardener." 
 
 ** Thou hast a good eye," said the Queen ; '*it is there 
 where my trusty lieges — God and the saints pour blessings 
 on them ! — hold consultation for my deliverance. The voice 
 of a wretched captive would die on these blue waters long 
 ere it could mingle in their council, and yet I can hold com- 
 munication — I will confide the whole to thee — I am about to 
 ask thosa faithful friends if the moment for the great attempt 
 is nigh. Place the lamp in the window, Fleming." 
 
 She obeyed, and immediately withdrew it. No sooner 
 had she done so than the light in the cottage of the gardener 
 disappeared. 
 
 '* Now, count," said Queen Mary, ''for my heartbeats 
 so thick that I cannot count myself." 
 
 The Lady Fleming began deliberately to count one, two, 
 three, and when she had arrived at ten the light on the 
 fshore again showed its pale twinkle. 
 
 " Now, Our Lady be praised ! " said the Queen ; '' it was 
 but two nights since that the absence of the light remained 
 while I could tell thirty. The hour of deliverance approaches. 
 May God bless those who labor in it with such truth 
 to me ! — alas ! with such hazard to themselves — and bless 
 you too, my children ! Come, we must to the audience- 
 chamber again. Our absence might excite suspicion, should 
 they serve supper." 
 
 They returned to the presence-chamber, and the evening 
 concluded as usual. 
 
 The next noon, at dinner-time, an unusual incident oc- 
 curred. While Lady Douglas of Lochleven performed her 
 daily duty of assistant and taster at the Queen's table, she 
 was told a man-at-arms had arrived, recommended by her 
 
376 WA VEBLEY NO VELS 
 
 son, but without any letter or otiier token than what he 
 brought by word of month. 
 
 *' Hath he given you that token ? " demanded the lady. 
 
 " He reserved it, as I think, for your ladyship's ear/* 
 replied Randal. 
 
 '* He doth well/' said the lady ; " tell him to wait in the 
 halL But no — with your permission, madam (to the Queen) 
 — let him attend me here/' 
 
 *' Since you are pleased to receive your domestics in my 
 presence," said the Queen, *' I cannot choose " 
 
 ^' My infirmities must plead my excuse, madam," replied 
 the lady ; " the life I must lead here ill suits with the years 
 which have passed over my head, and compels me to waive 
 ceremonial.*' 
 
 ^' 0, my good lady," replied the Queen, *' I would there 
 were nought in this your castle more strongly compulsive 
 than the cobweb chains of ceremony ; but bolts and bars are 
 harder matters to contend with." 
 
 As she spoke, the person announced by Randal entered the 
 room, and Roland Graeme at once recognized in him the 
 Abbot Ambrosius. 
 
 *' What is your name, good fellow ? " said the lady. 
 
 " Edward Glendinning," answered the abbot, with a 
 Buitable reverence. 
 
 " Art thou of the blood of the Knight of Avenel ? " said 
 the Lady of Lochleven. 
 
 " Ay, madam, and that nearly," replied the pretended 
 Boldier, 
 
 " It is likely enough," said the lady, *' for the knight is 
 the son of his own good works, and has risen from obscure 
 lineage to his present high rank in the estate. But he is of 
 sure truth and approved worth, and his kinsman is welcome 
 to us. You hold, unq[uestionably, the true faith ? " 
 
 " Do not doubt of it, madam, said the disguised church- 
 man. 
 
 '' Hast thou a token to me from Sir William Douglas ?" 
 »aid the lady. 
 
 '' I have, madam," replied he ; '' but it must be said in 
 private." 
 
 '* Thou art right," said the lady, moving towards the 
 tecess of a window ; *' say in what does it consist ? " 
 
 ** In the words of an old bard," replied the abbot. 
 
 "Repeat them," answered the lady ; and he uttered, in a 
 low tone, the lines from an old poem called The Howlet * — 
 
 See Note 24. 
 
THE ABBOT 377 
 
 " O, Douglas ! Douglas I 
 Tender and true." 
 
 " Trusty Sir John Holland ! " said the Lady Douglas, 
 apostrophizing the poet, " a kinder heart never inspired a 
 rhyme, and the Douglases honor was ever on thy harp-string ! 
 We receive you among our followers, Glendinning. But, 
 Randal, see that he keep the outer ward only, till we shall hear 
 more touching him from our son. Thou fearest not the night 
 air, Glendinning ?" 
 
 '* In the cause of the lady before whom I stand, I fear 
 nothing, madam/^ answered the disguised abbot. 
 
 ** Our garrison, then, is stronger by one trustworthy 
 soldier,'" said the matron. '^ Go to the buttery, and let them 
 make much of thee.'" 
 
 When the Lady Lochleven had retired, the Queen said to 
 Roland Graeme, who was now almost constantly in her com- 
 pany, '^ I spy comfort in that stranger's countenance ; I 
 know not why it should be so, but I am well persuaded he is 
 a friend." 
 
 *' Your Grace's penetration does not deceive you," answered 
 the page ; and he informed her that the abbot of St. Mary's 
 himself played the part of the newly-arrived soldier. 
 
 The Queen crossed herself, and looked upward. '' Un- 
 worthy sinner that I am," she said, '^ that for my sake a 
 man so holy, and so high in spiritual office, should wear the 
 garb of a base sworder, and run the risk of dying the death 
 of a traitor ! " 
 
 '* Heaven will protect its own servant, madam," said Cath- 
 erine Seyton ; " his aid would bring a blessing on our under- 
 taking, were it not already blest for its own sake." 
 
 " What I admire in my spiritual father," said Roland, 
 ''was the steady front with which he looked on me, with- 
 out giving the least sign of former acquaintance. I did not 
 think the like was possible, since I have ceased to believe 
 that Henry was the same person with Catherine." 
 
 ''But marked you not how astuciously the good father," 
 said the Queen, " eluded the questions of the woman Loch- 
 leven, telling her the very truth, which yet she received not 
 as such ? " 
 
 Roland thought in his heart that, when the truth was 
 spoken for the purpose of deceiving, it was little better than 
 a lie in disguise. But it was no time to agitate such questions 
 of conscience. 
 
 " And now for the signal from the shore ! " exclaimed 
 Catherine ; ''my bosom tells me we shall see this night two 
 
878 WAVEELET NOVELS 
 
 lights instead of one gleam from that garden of Eden. And 
 then, Roland, do you play your part manfully, and we will 
 dance on the greensward like midnight fairies ! " 
 
 Catherine's conjecture misgave not, nor deceived her. In 
 the evening two beams twinkled from the cottage, instead of 
 one ; and the page heard, with beating heart, that the new 
 retainer was ordered to stand sentinel on the outside of the 
 castle. When he intimated this news to the Queen she held 
 her hand out to him ; he knelt, and when he raised it to his 
 lips in all dutiful homage, he found it was damp and cold as 
 marble. '^ For God's sake, madam, droop not now — sink 
 not now ! '* 
 
 '^ Call upon Our Lady, my liege," said the Lady Fleming — 
 *'call upon your tutelar sainf 
 
 " Call the spirits of the hundred kings you are descended 
 from !" exclaimed the page; '' in this hour of need, tha 
 resolution of a monarch were worth the aid of a hundred 
 saints." 
 
 ''^ ! Roland Graeme," said Mary, in a tone of deep de- 
 spondency, '' be true to me ; many have been false to me. 
 Alas ! I have not always been true to myself. My mind 
 misgives me that I shall die in bondage, and that this bold 
 attempt will cost all our lives. It was foretold me by f 
 soothsayer in France that I should die in prison, and by i 
 violent death, and here comes the hour. 0, would to God 
 it found me prepared ! " 
 
 *' Madam," said Catherine Seyton, '^remember you are a 
 queen. Better we all died in bravely attempting to gain our 
 freedom than remained here to be poisoned, as men rid them 
 of the noxious vermin that haunt old houses." 
 
 ** You are right, Catherine," said the Queen ; '' and Mary 
 will bear her like herself. But, alas ! your young and buoy- 
 ant spirit can ill spell the causes which have broken mine. 
 Forgive me, my children, and farewell for a while ; I will 
 prepare both mind and body for this awful venture." 
 
 They separated, till again called together by the tolling 
 of the curfew. The Queen appeared grave, but firm and 
 resolved ; the Lady Fleming, with the art of an experienced 
 courtier, knew perfectly how to disguise her inward tremors ; 
 Catherine's eye was fired, as if with the boldness of the pro- 
 ject, and the half-smile which dwelt upon her beautiful 
 mouth seemed to contemn all the risk and all the con- 
 sequences of discovery ; Roland, who felt how much success 
 depended on his own address and boldness, summoned to- 
 gether his whole presence of mind, and if he found his spirits 
 
THE ABBOT 8'79 
 
 flag for a moment, cast his eye upon Catherine, whom he 
 thought he had never seen look so beautiful. *' I may be 
 foiled,^' he thought, "but, with this reward in prospect, 
 they must bring the devil to aid them ere they cross me/^ 
 Thus resolved, he stood like a greyhound in the slips, with 
 hand heart, and eye intent upon making and seizing op- 
 portunity for the execution of their project. 
 
 The keys had, with the wonted ceremonial, been presented 
 to the Lady Lochleven. She stood with her back to the 
 casement, which, like that of the Queen^s apartment, com- 
 manded a view of Kinross, with the church, which stands 
 at some distance from the town, and nearer to the lake, then 
 connected with the town by straggling cottages. With her 
 back to the casement, then, and her face to the table, on 
 which the keys lay for an instant while she tasted the various 
 dishes which were placed there, stood the Lady of Lochleven, 
 more provokingly intent than usual — so at least it seemed to 
 her prisoners — upon the huge and heavy bunch of iron, the 
 implements of their restraint. Just when, having finished 
 her ceremony as taster of the Queen's table, she was about 
 to take up the keys, the page, who stood beside her, and had 
 handed her the dishes in succession, looked sidewise to the 
 churchyard, and exclaimed he saw corpse-candles in the vault. 
 The Lady of Lochleven was not without a touch, though a 
 slight one, of the superstitions of the time : the fate of her 
 sons made her alive to omens, and a corpse-light, as it was 
 called, in the family burial-place boded death. She turned 
 her head towards the casement — saw a distant glimmering — 
 forgot her charge for one second, and in that second were 
 lost the whole fruits of her former vigilance. The page held 
 the forged keys under his cloak, and with great dexterity 
 exchanged them for the real ones. His utmost address could 
 not prevent a slight clash as he took up the latter bunch. 
 ** Who touches the keys ? " said the lady ; and while the 
 page answered that the sleeve of his cloak had stirred them, 
 she looked round, possessed herself of the bunch which now 
 occupied the place of the genuine keys, and again turned to 
 gaze at the supposed corpse-candles. 
 
 ^ " I hold these gleams,'^ she said, after a moment's con- 
 sideration, "to come, not from the churchyard, but from 
 the hut of the old gardener Blinkhoolie. I wonder what 
 thrift that churl drives, that of late he hath ever had light 
 in his house till the night grew deep. I thought him an in- 
 dustrious, peaceful man. If he turns resetter of idle com- 
 panions and night-walkers, the place must be rid of him." 
 
380 WAVEBLEY NOVELS 
 
 ^' He may work his baskets, perchance," said the page, 
 desirous to stop the train of her suspicion. 
 
 " Or nets, may he not ?'' answered the lady. 
 
 *' Ay, madam/' said Eoland, '^ for trout and salmon." 
 
 '* Or for fools and knaves,''^ replied the lady ; ''but this 
 shall be looked after to-morrow. I wish your Grace and 
 your company a good evening. Randal, attend us.'' And 
 Randal, who waited in the ante-chamber after having sur- 
 rendered his bunch of keys, gave his escort to his mistress 
 as usual, while, leaving the Queen's apartments, she retired 
 to her own. 
 
 '* To-morrow !*' said the page, rubbing his hands with 
 glee as he repeated the lady's last words ; ^' fools look to to- 
 morrow, and wise folk use to-night. May I pray you, my 
 gracious liege, to retire for one half-hour, until all the castle 
 is composed to rest ? I must go and rub with oil these blessed 
 implements of our freedom. Courage and constancy, and 
 all will go well, provided our friends on the shore fail not to 
 send the boat you spoke of." 
 
 '' Fear them not," said Catherine, " they are true as steel 
 — if our dear mistress do but maintain her noble and royal 
 courage." * 
 
 *' Doubt not me, Catherine," replied the Queen ; '' a while 
 since I was overborne, but I have recalled the spirit of my 
 earlier and more sprightly days, when I used to accompany 
 my armed nobles, and wish to be myself a man, to know 
 what life it was to be in the fields with sword and buckler, 
 jack and knapscap ! " 
 
 " 0, the lark lives not a gayer life, nor sings a lighter and 
 gayer song, than the merry soldier," answered Catherine. 
 '^ Your Grace shall be in the midst of them soon, and the 
 look of such a liege sovereign will make each of your host 
 worth three in the hour of need. But I must to my task." 
 
 " We have but brief time," said Queen Mary : ''one of 
 the two lights in the cottage is extinguished ; that shows 
 the boat is put off." 
 
 '' They will row very slow," said the page, *' or kent where 
 depth permits, to avoid noise. To our several tasks. I will 
 communicate with the good father." 
 
 At the dead hour of midnight, when all was silent in the 
 castle, the page put the key into the lock of the wicket 
 which opened into the garden, and which was at the bottom 
 of a staircase that descended from the Queen's apartment. 
 " Kow, turn smooth and softly, thou good bolt, said he, 
 
 * See Demeanor of Queen Mary. Note 86. 
 
THE ABBOT 381 
 
 •'if ever oil softened rust I" and his precautions had been so 
 effectual that the bolt revolved with little or no sound of 
 resistance. He ventured not to cross the threshold, but ex- 
 changing a word with the disguised abbot, asked if the boat 
 were ready. 
 
 "This half-hour/' said the sentinel. *^She lies beneath 
 the wall, too close under the islet to be seen by the warder ; 
 but I fear she will hardly escape his notice in putting off 
 again.'' 
 
 "The darkness/' said the page, "and our profound 
 silence, may take her off unobserved, as she came in. Hilde- 
 brand has the watch on the tower — a heavy-headed knave, 
 who holds a can of ale to be the best head-piece upon a night- 
 watch. He sleeps for a wager." 
 
 " Then bring the Queen,'' said the abbot, " and I will call 
 Henry Seyton to assist them to the boat." 
 
 On tiptoe, with noiseless step and suppressed breath, 
 trembling at every rustle of their own apparel, one after 
 another the fair prisoners glided down the winding stair, 
 under the guidance of Koland Graeme, and were received at 
 the wicket-gate by Henry Seyton and the churchman. The 
 former seemed instantly to take upon himself the whole di- 
 rection of the enterprise. " My lord abbot," he said, " give 
 my sister your arm ; I will conduct the Queen, and that 
 youth will have the honor to guide Lady Fleming." 
 
 This was no time to dispute the arrangement, although 
 it was not that which Eoland Graeme would have chosen. 
 Catherine Seyton, who well knew the garden path, tripped 
 on before like a sylph, rather leading the abbot than receiv- 
 ing assistance ; the Queen, her native spirit prevailing over 
 female fear and a thousand painful reflections, moved steadily 
 forward, by the assistance of Henry Seyton ; while the Lady 
 Fleming encumbered with her fears and her helplessness 
 Roland Graeme, who followed in the rear, and who bore 
 under the other arm a packet of necessaries belonging to the 
 Queen. The door of the garden, which communicated with 
 the shore of the islet, yielded to one of the keys of which 
 Roland had possessed himself, although not until he had 
 tried several — a moment of anxious terror and expectation. 
 The ladies were then partly led, partly carried, to the side 
 of the lake, where a boat with six rowers attended them, the 
 men couched along the bottom to secure them from obser- 
 vation. Henry Seyton placed the Queen in the stern ; the 
 abbot offered to assist Catherine, but she was seated by the 
 Queen's side before he could utter his proffer of help ; and 
 
382 " WAVER LET NOVELS 
 
 Roland Graeme was just lifting Lady Fleming over the boat- 
 side when a thought suddenly occurred to him, and exclaim- 
 ing, ** Forgotten — forgotten! wait for me but one half 
 minute,^' he replaced on the shore the helpless lady of the 
 bed-chamber, threw the Queen's packet into the boat, and 
 sped back through the garden with the noiseless speed of a 
 bird on the wing. 
 
 '' By Heaven, he is false at last I" said Seyton ; " I evei 
 feared it ! '' 
 
 *'He is as true," said Catherine, "as Heaven itself, and 
 that I will maintain." 
 
 " Be silent, minion," said her brother, "for shame, if not 
 for fear. Fellows, put off, and row for your lives ! " 
 
 " Help me — help me on board ! " said the deserted Lady 
 Fleming, and that louder than prudence warranted, 
 
 " Put off — put off !" cried Henry Seyton ; " leave all be- 
 hind, so the Queen is safe." 
 
 " Will you permit this, madam ?" said Catherine, implor- 
 ingly ; "you leave your deliverer to death." 
 
 " I w'U not," said the Queen. "Seyton, I command you 
 to stay at every risk." 
 
 " Pardon me, madam, if I disobey," said the intractable 
 young man ; and with one hand lifting in Lady Fleming, he 
 began himself to push off the boat. 
 
 She was two fathoms' length from the shore, and the 
 rowers were getting her head round, when Roland Graeme, 
 arriving, bounded from the beach, and attained the boat, 
 overturning Seyton, on whom he lighted. The youth swore 
 a deep but suppressed oath, and stopping Graeme as he 
 stepped towards the stern, said, "Your place is not with 
 high-born dames ; keep at the head and trim the vessel. 
 Now give way — give way. Row, for God and the Queen I " 
 
 The rowers obeyed, and began to pull vigorously. 
 
 " Why did you not muffle the oars ?" said Roland Graeme ; 
 "the dash must awaken the sentinel. Row, lads, and get 
 out of reach of shot ; for had not old Hildebrand, the 
 warder, supped upon poppy-porridge, this whispering must 
 have waked him.' 
 
 " It was all thine own delay," said Seyton ; " thou shalt 
 reckon with me hereafter for that and other matters." 
 
 But Roland's apprehension was verified too instantly to 
 permit him to reply. The sentinel, whose slumbering had 
 withstood the whispering, was alarmed by the dash of the 
 oars. His challenge was instantly heard. " A boat — a boat ! 
 bring to, or I shoot I " And, as they continued to ply their 
 
THE ABBOT 888 
 
 oars, he called aloud, *' Treason ! — treason ! '* rung the bell 
 of the castle, and discharged his harquebuss at the boat. 
 The ladies crowded on each other like startled wild-fowl, at 
 the flash and report of the piece, while the men urged the 
 rowers to the utmost speed. They heard more than one 
 ball whiz along the surface of the lake, at no great distance 
 from their little bark ; and from the lights, which glanced 
 like meteors from window to window, it was evident the 
 whole castle was alarmed, and their escape discovered. 
 
 *' Pull ! " again exclaimed Seyton ; '' stretch to your oars, 
 or I will spur you to the task with my dagger ; they will 
 launch a boat immediately." 
 
 "That is cared for," said Roland; *' I locked gate and 
 wicket on them when I went back, and no boat will stir from 
 the island this night, if doors of good oak and bolts of iron 
 can keep men within stone walls. And now I resign my of- 
 fice of porter of Lochleven, and give the keys to the Kelpie's 
 keeping. '^ 
 
 As the heavy keys plunged in the lake, the abbot, who till 
 then had been repeating his prayers, exclaimed, " Now, bless 
 thee, my son ! for thy ready prudence puts shame on us 
 all." * 
 
 " I knew,'^ said Mary, drawing her breath more freely, as 
 they were now out of reach of the musketry — " I knew my 
 squire's truth, promptitude, and sagacity. I must have him 
 dear friends with my no less true knights, Douglas and Sey- 
 ton ; but where, then, is Douglas ? " 
 
 '''Here, madam," answered the deep and melancholy voice 
 of the boatman who sat next her, and who acted as steers- 
 man. 
 
 "'Alas ! was it you who stretched your body before me,*' 
 said the Queen, ** when the balls were raining around us ? " 
 
 "Believe you,'' said he, in a low tone, "that Douglas 
 would have resigned to any one the chance of protecting his 
 Queen's life with his own ?", 
 
 The dialogue was here interrupted by a shot or two from 
 one of those small pieces of artillery called falconets, then 
 used in defending castles. The shot was too vague to have 
 any effect, but the broader flash, the deeper sound, the louder 
 return which was made by the midnight echoes of Bennarty 
 terrified and imposed silence on the liberated prisoners. The 
 boat was alongside of a rude quay or landing-place, running 
 out from a garden of considerable extent, ere any of them 
 again attempted to speak. They landed, and while the 
 
 * S«e Escape of Queen Mary from Lochleven. Note 26. 
 
884 WAVERLET NOVELS 
 
 abbot returned thanks aloud to Heaven, which had thus far 
 favored their enterprise, Douglas enjoyed the best reward 
 of his desperate undertaking, in conducting the Queen to 
 the house of the gardener. Yet, not unmindful of Roland 
 Graeme, even in that moment of terror and exhaustion, Mar^ 
 expressly commanded Seyton to give his assistance to Flem 
 ing, while Catherine voluntarily, and without bidding, took 
 the arm of the page. Seyton presently resigned Lady Flem- 
 ing to the care of the abbot, alleging he must look after thejr 
 horses ; and his attendants, disencumbering themselves of 
 their boat-cloaks, hastened to assist him. 
 
 While Mary spent in the gardener's cottage the few 
 n:>^inutes which were necessary to prepare the steeds for their 
 depvarture, she perceived in a corner the old man to whom 
 the gtwxden belonged, and called him to approach. He came 
 as it weWe with reluctance. 
 
 " How, '^brother,*' said the abbot, *' so slow to welcome thy 
 royal Queen v^nd mistress to liberty and to her kingdom ! " 
 
 The old ma-aji^ thus admonished, came forward, and, in 
 good terms of sp^^ech, gave her Grace joy of her deliverance. 
 
 The Queen returi-^ed him thanks in the most gracious man- 
 ner, and added, " It .will remain to us to offer some immedi- 
 ate reward for your fide^iity, for we wot well your house has 
 been long the refuge in wi?|ich our trusty servants have met 
 to concert measures for our iireedom.'* So saying, she offered 
 gold, and added, ** We will CG^Jlsi(3er your services more fully 
 hereafter.** 
 
 "Kneel, brother," said the ab-bot—'' kneel instantly, and 
 thank her Grace's kindness." 
 
 " Good brother, that wert once a fg^ steps under me, and 
 art still very many years younger, 'i-eplied the gardener, pet- 
 tishly, '^ let me do mine acknowledgments in my own way. 
 Queens have knelt to me ere now, and \-^ truth my knees are 
 too old and stiff to bend even to this lovei^.f^ced ladv. May 
 it please your Grace, if your Grace's serva^^^s have occupied 
 my house, so that I could not call it mine (^^^ . ^f ^hey have 
 trodden down my flowers in the zeal of thCi-j. midnight com- 
 ings and goings, and destroyed the hope of ^ j^g fj.^j^ season 
 by bringing their war-horses into my garden, j ^^ y^^^ ^^^^^ 
 of your Grace in requital that you will choose y^^j. residence 
 as far from me as possible. I am^ an old ma^^ ^]-^q would 
 willingly creep to my^grave as easily as I can, ii, pg^ce, good- 
 will, and quiet labor." „ • -, xi. ^ 
 
 '' I promise you fairly, good man, said the Qi gen, *' I will 
 not make yonder oastle my residence again, if 1 o^n help it 
 
THE ABBOT 385 
 
 But let me press on you this money ; it will make some 
 amends for the havoc we have made in your little garden and 
 orchard/' 
 
 ' * I thank your Grace, but it will make me not the least 
 amends," said the old man. " The ruined labors of a whole 
 year are not so easily replaced to him who has perchance but 
 that one year to live ; and, besides, they tell m.e I must leave 
 this place, and become a wanderer in mine old age — I that 
 have nothing on earth saving these fruit-trees, and a few 
 old parchments and family secrets not worth knowing. As 
 for gold, if I had loved it, I might have remained lord ab- 
 bot of St. Mary's ; and yet I wot not, for if Abbot Boniface 
 be but the poor peasant Blinkhoolie, his successor, the Ab- 
 bot Ambrosius, is still transmitted for the worse into the 
 guise of a sword-and-buckler-man." 
 
 '* Ha ! Is this indeed the Abbot Boniface of whom I have 
 heard ?" said the Queen. ''It is indeed I who should have 
 bent the knee for your blessing, good father \" 
 
 *' Bend no knee to me, lady ! The blessing of an old man, 
 who is no longer an abbot, go with you over dale and down. 
 I hear the trampling of your horses." 
 
 '' Farewell, father," said the Queen. " When we are once 
 more seated at Holyrood, we will neither forget thee nor 
 thine injured garden." 
 
 *' Forget us both," said the Ex- Abbot Boniface, *' and may 
 God be with you !" 
 
 As they hurried out of the house, they heard the old man 
 talking and muttering to himself, as he hastily drew bolt 
 and bar behind them. 
 
 *' The revenge of the Douglasses will reach the poor old 
 man," said the Queen. '' God help me, I ruin every one 
 whom I approach ! " 
 
 *' His safety is cared for," said Seyton ; " he must not re- 
 main here, but will be privately conducted to a place of 
 greater security. But I would your Grace were in the 
 saddle. To horse ! — to horse ! " 
 
 The party of Seyton and of Douglas were increased to 
 about ten by those attendants who had remained with the 
 horses. The Queen and her ladies, with all the rest who 
 came from the boat, were instantly mounted ; and holding 
 aloof from the village, which was already alarmed by the 
 firing from the castle, with Douglas acting as their guide, 
 they soon reached the open ground, and began to ride as 
 last as was consistent witn keeping together in good order. 
 as 
 
CHAPTER XXXVI 
 
 He mounted himself on a coal-black steed. 
 
 And her on a freckled gray, 
 With a bugelet horn hung down from his sid«. 
 
 And roundly they rode away. 
 
 Old Ballad. 
 
 The influence of the free air, the rushing of the horses over 
 high and low, the ringing of the bridles, the excitation at 
 once arising from a sense of freedom and of rapid motion, 
 gradually dispelled the confused and dejected sort of stupe- 
 faction by which Queen Mary was at first overwhelmed. 
 She could not at last conceal the change of her feelings to 
 the person who rode at her rein, and 'who she doubted not 
 was the Father Ambrosius ; for Seyton, with all the heady 
 impetuosity of a youth, proud, and justly so, of his first 
 successful adventure, assumed all the bustle and importance 
 of commander of the little party, which escorted, in the 
 language of the time, the Fortune of Scotland. He now 
 led the van, now checked his bounding steed till the rear 
 had come up, exhorted the leaders to keep a steady, though 
 rapid, pace, and commanded those who were hindmost of 
 the party to use their spurs, and allow no interval to take 
 place in their line of march ; and anon he was beside the 
 Queen or her ladies, inquiring how they brooked the hasty 
 journey, and whether they had any commands for him. 
 But while Seyton thus busied himself in the general cause 
 with some advantage to the regular order of the march, and 
 a good deal of personal ostentation, the horseman who rode 
 beside the Queen gave her his full and undivided attention, 
 as if he had been waiting upon some superior being. When 
 the road was rugged and dangerous, he abandoned almost 
 entirely the care of his own horse, and kept his hand con- 
 stantly upon the Queen's bridle ; if a river or larger brook 
 traversed their course, his left arm retained her in the sad- 
 dle, while his right held her palfrey's rein. 
 
 ''I had not thought, reverend father,'' said the Queen, 
 when they reached the other bank, ''that the convent bred 
 such good horsemen." The person she addressed sighed, but 
 made no other answer. *' I know not how it is/' said Queen 
 
THE ABBOT 88t 
 
 Mary, " but either the sense of freedom, or the pleasure of 
 my favorite exercise, from which I have been so long debarred, 
 or both combined, seem to have given wings to rae : no fish 
 ever shot through the water, no bird through the air, 
 with the hurried feeling of liberty and rapture with which I 
 sweep through this night- wind, and over these wolds. Nay, 
 such is the magic of feeling myself once more in the saddle, 
 that I could almost swear I am at this moment mounted on 
 my own favorite Kosabelle, who was never matched in Scot- 
 lond for swiftness, for ease of motion, and for sureness of 
 foot/' 
 
 '* And if the horse which bears so dear a burden could 
 speak,'* answered the deep voice of the melancholy George 
 of Douglas, *' would she not reply, who but Kosabelle ought 
 at such an emergence as this to serve her beloved mistress, 
 or who but Douglas ought to hold her bridle-rein ?'* 
 
 Queen Mary started ; she foresaw at once all the evils like 
 to arise to herself and him from the deep enthusiastic passion 
 of this youth ; but her feelings as a woman, grateful at once 
 and compassionate, prevented her assuming the dignity of a 
 Queen, and she endeavored to continue the conversation in 
 an indifferent tone. 
 
 *' Methought," she said, ** I heard that, at the division of 
 my spoils, Kosabelle had become the property of Lord Mor- 
 ton's paramour and lady-love, Alice." 
 
 " The noble palfrey had indeed been destined to so base a 
 lot," answered Douglas. ^' She was kept under four keys, 
 and under the charge of a numerous crew of grooms and 
 domestics ; but Queen Mary needed Kosabelle, and Kosabelle 
 is here. " 
 
 " And was it well, Douglas," said Queen Mary, " when 
 such fearful risks of various kinds must needs be encoun- 
 tered, that you should augment their perils to yourself for a 
 subject of so little momemt as a palfrey ? " 
 
 ' ' Do you call that of little moment," answered Douglas, 
 " which has afforded you a moment's pleasure ? Did you 
 not start with joy when I first said you were mounted on 
 Kosabelle ? And to purchase you that pleasure, though it 
 were to last no longer than the flash of lightning doth, would 
 not Douglas have risked his life a thousand times ?" 
 
 " 0, peace, Douglas — peace," said the Queen, "this is 
 unfitting language ; and, besides, I would speak," said she, 
 recollecting herself, *' with the abbot of St._ Mary's. Nay, 
 Douglas, I will not let yon quit my rein in displeasure." 
 
 " Displeaflure, lady I " answered Douglas ; " alas ! sorrow 
 
388 WA VERLET NOVELS 
 
 18 all that I can feel for your well- warranted contempt. I 
 should be as soon displeased with Heaven for refusing the 
 wildest wish which mortal can form/' 
 
 *' Abide by my rein, however," said Mary, " there is room 
 for my lord abbot on the other side ; and, besides, I doubt if 
 his assistance would be so useful to Rosabelle and me as 
 yours has been, should the road again require it/' 
 
 The abbot came up on the other side, and she immediately 
 opened a conversation with him on the topic of the state of 
 parties, and the plan fittest for her to pursue inconsequence 
 of her deliverance. In this conversation Douglas look little 
 share, and never but when directly applied to by the Queen, 
 while, as before, his attention seemed entirely engrossed by 
 the care of Mary's personal safety. She learned, however, 
 she had a new obligation to him, since, by his contrivance, 
 the abbot, whom he had furnished with the family password, 
 was introduced into the castle as one of the garrison. 
 
 Long before daybreak they ended their hasty and perilous 
 journey before the gates of Niddrie, a castle in West Lothian, 
 belonging to Lord Seyton. When the Queen was about to 
 alight, Henry Seyton, preventing Douglas, received her in 
 his arms, and, kneeling down, prayed her Majesty to enter the 
 house of his father, her faithful servant. 
 
 ''Your Grace," he added, ''may repose yourself here in 
 perfect safety : it is already garrisoned with good men for 
 your protection ; and I have sent a post to my father, whose 
 instant arrival, at the head of five hundred men, may be 
 looked for. Do not dismay yourself, therefore, should your 
 sleep be broken by the trampling of horse ; but only think 
 that here are some scores more of the saucy Seytons come tp 
 attend you." 
 
 " And by better friends than the saucy Seytons a Scottish 
 queen cannot be guarded," replied Mary. " Rosabelle went 
 fleet as the summer breeze, and wellnigh as easy ; but it is 
 long since I have been a traveler, and I feel that repose will 
 be welcome. Catherine, ma mxgnone, you must sleep in my 
 apartment to-night, and bid me welcome to your noble 
 father's castle. Thanks — thanks to all my kind deliverers; 
 thanks, and a good-night is all I can now offer ; but if I 
 climb once more to the upper side of Fortune's wheel I will 
 not have her bandage. Mary Stuart will keep her eyes open, 
 and distinguish her friends. Seyton, I need scarcely recom- 
 mend the venerable abbot, the Douglas, and my page to 
 jrour honorable care and hospitality." 
 
 Henry Seyton bowed, and Catherine and Lady Fleming 
 
THE ABBOT 389 
 
 attended the Queen to her apartment ; where, acknowledge 
 ing to them that she should have found it difficult in that 
 moment to keep her promise of holding her eyes open, she 
 resigned herself to repose, and awakened not till the morn- 
 ing was advanced.' 
 
 Mary's first feeling when she awoke was the doubt of hei 
 freedom ; and the impulse prompted her to start from bed, 
 and hastily throwing her mantle over her shoulders, to look 
 out at the casement of her apartment. sight of joy ! in- 
 stead of the crystal sheet of Lochleven, unaltered save by 
 the influence of the wind, a landscape of wood and moor- 
 land lay before her, and the park around the castle was oc- 
 cupied by the troops of her most faithful and most favorite 
 nobles. 
 
 *' Kise— rise, Catherine,'^ cried the enraptured Princess — 
 ^' arise and come hither ! Here are swords and spears in true 
 hands, and glittering armor on loyal breasts. Here are ban- 
 ners, my girl, floating in the wind, as lightly as summer 
 cloud. Great God ! what pleasure to my weary eyes to 
 trace their devices — thine own brave father's — the prince- 
 ly Hamilton's — the faithful Fleming's. See — see — they 
 Jbave caught a glimpse of me, and throng towards the 
 window ! " 
 
 She flung the casement open, and with her bare head, 
 from which the tresses flew back loose and disheveled, her 
 fair arm, slenderly veiled by her mantle, returned by motion 
 and sign the exulting shouts of the warriors, which echoed 
 for many a furlong around. When the first burst of ecstatic 
 joy was over she recollected how lightly she was dressed, 
 and, putting her hands to her face, which was covered with 
 blushes at the recollection, withdrew abruptly from the 
 window. The cause of her retreat was easily conjectured, 
 and increased the general enthusiasm for the princess who 
 had forgotten her rank in her haste to acknowledge the serv- 
 ices of her subjects. The unadorned beauties of the lovely 
 woman, too, moved the military spectators more than the 
 highest display of her regal state might ; and what might 
 have seemed too free in her mode of appearing before them 
 was more than atoned for by the enthusiasm of the moment, 
 and by the delicacy evinced in her hasty retreat. Often as 
 the shouts died away, as often were they renewed, till wood 
 and hill rung again ; and many a deep oath was made that 
 morning on the cross of the sword, that the hand should not 
 part with the weapon till Mary Stuart was restored to her 
 rights. But what are promises, what the hopes of moi*tals f 
 
J90 WAVEBLET NOVELS 
 
 In ten Jays the gallant and devoted votaries were slain, were 
 captives, or had fled. 
 
 Mary flung herself into the nearest seat, and still blush- 
 ing, yet half-smiling, exclaimed, '^Ma mignonne, what will 
 they think of me ? — to show myself to them with my bare 
 feet hastily thrust into my slippers — only this loose mantle 
 about me — my hair loose on my shoulders — my arms and 
 neck so bare. 0, the best they can suppose is, that her 
 abode in yonder dungeon has turned their Queen's brain I 
 But my rebel subjects saw me exposed when I was in the 
 depth of affliction, why should I hold colder ceremony with 
 these faithful and loyal men ? Call Fleming, however ; I 
 trust she has not forgotten the little mail with my apparel. 
 We must be as brave as we can, mignonne." 
 
 ** Nay, madam, our good Lady Fleming was in no case to 
 remember anything/' 
 
 '*You jest, Catherine," said the Queen, somewhat of- 
 fended ; *' it is not her nature, surely, to forget her duty so 
 far as to leave us without a change of apparel ? *' 
 
 *' Roland Graeme, madam, took care of that," answered 
 Catherine ; " for he threw the mail with your Highnesses 
 clothes and jewels into the boat, ere he ran back to lock the 
 gate. I never saw so awkward a page as that youth : the 
 packet wellnigh fell on my head." 
 
 '^ He shall make thy heart amends, my girl," said Queen 
 Mary, laughing, *' for that and all other offenses given. But 
 call Fleming, and let us put ourselves into apparel to 
 meet our faithful lords." 
 
 Such had been the preparations, and such was the skill 
 of Lady Fleming, that the Queen appeared before her as- 
 sembled nobles in such attire as became, through it could 
 not enchance, her natural dignity. With the most winning 
 courtesy, she expressed to each individual her grateful 
 thanks, and dignified not only every noble, but many of the 
 lesser barons, by her peculiar attention. 
 
 "And whither now, my lords ?" she said ; " what way do 
 your counsels determine for us ? " 
 
 '* To Draphane Castle," replied Lord Arbroath, "if your 
 Majesty is so pleased , and thence to Dunbarton, to place 
 your Grace's person in safety, after which we long to prove 
 if these traitors will abide us in the field." 
 
 " And when do we journey ?" 
 
 "We propose," said Lord Seyton, "if your Grace's fati 
 gue will permit, to take horse after the morning's meal." 
 
 " Your pleasure, my lords, is mine/' replied the Queen » 
 
THE ABBOT 891 
 
 •• we will rule our jonrney by your wisdom now, and hope 
 hereafter to have the advantage of governing by it our king- 
 dom. You will permit my ladies and me, my good lords, to 
 break our fast along with you ; we must be half soldiers our- 
 selves, and set state apart/' 
 
 Low bowed many a helmeted head at this gracious proffer, 
 when the Queen, glancing her eyes through the assembled 
 leaders, missed both Douglas and Eoland Graeme, and in- 
 quired for them in a whisper to Catherine Seyton. 
 
 " They are in yonder oratory, madam, sad enough, *' re- 
 plied Catherine, and the Queen observed that her favorite's 
 eyes were red with weeping. 
 
 " This must not be," said the Queen. *' Keep the com- 
 pany amused. I will seek them, and introduce them myself. " 
 
 She went into the oratory, where the first she met was 
 George Douglas, standing, or rather reclining, in the recess 
 of a window, his back rested against the wall and his arms 
 folded on his breast. At the sight of the Queen he started, 
 and his countenance showed, for an instant, an expression 
 t)f intense delight, which was instantly exchanged for his 
 usual deep melancholy. 
 
 ** What means this ? " she said. " Douglas, why does the 
 first deviser and bold executor of the happy scheme for our 
 freedom shun the company of his fellow-nobles, and of the 
 sovereign whom he has obliged ? " 
 
 *' Madam,'' replied Douglas, *' those whom you grace with 
 your presence bring followers to aid your cause, wealth to 
 support your state — can offer you balk in which to feast, 
 and impregnable castles for your defense. I am a houseless 
 and landless man — disinherited by my [grand-] mother, and 
 laid under her malediction — disowned by my name and kin- 
 dred — who bring nothing to your standard but a single sword, 
 and the poor life of its owner." 
 
 *'Do you mean to upbraid me, Douglas," replied the 
 Queen, ^' by showing what you have lost for my sake ? " 
 
 " God forbid, madam ! " interrupted the young man, 
 eagerly ; " were it to do again, and had I ten times as much 
 rank and wealth, and twenty times as many friends to lose, 
 my losses would be overpaid by the first step you made, as a 
 free princess, upon the soil of your native kingdom." 
 
 " And what then ails you, that you will not rejoice with 
 those who rejoice upon the same joyful occasion ? " said the 
 Queen. 
 
 *' Madam," replied the youth, "though exheridated and 
 disowned, I am yet a Douglas : with most of yonder nobles 
 
392 WAVERLET NOVELS 
 
 my family have been in feud for ages — a cold reception 
 amongst them were an insult, and a kind one yet more 
 humiliating/' 
 
 " For shame, Douglas/' replied the Queen, '' shake off 
 this unmanly gloom ! I can make thee match for the best 
 of them in title and fortune, and, believe me, I will. Go 
 then amongst them, I command you/' 
 
 "That word," said Douglas, **is enough. I go. This 
 only let me say, that not for wealth or title would I have 
 done that which I have done. Mary Stuart will not, and 
 the Queen cannot, reward me." 
 
 So saying, he left the oratory, mingled with the nobles, 
 and placed himself at the table. The Queen looked after 
 him, and put her kerchief to her eyes. 
 
 *' Now, Our Lady pity me," she said, " for no sooner are 
 my prison cares ended than those which beset me as a wo- 
 man and a queen again thicken around me. Happy Eliza- 
 beth I to whom political interest is everything, and whose 
 heart never betrays thy head. And now must I seek this 
 other boy, if I would prevent daggers-drawing betwixt him 
 and the young Seyton." 
 
 Koland Grseme was in the same oratory, but at such a dis- 
 tance from Douglas, that he could not overhear what passed 
 betwixt the Queen and him. He also was moody and 
 thoughtful, but cleared his brow at the Queen's question, 
 " How now, Eoland ? you are negligent in your attendance 
 this morning. Are you so much overcome with your night's 
 ride?" 
 
 ''Not so, gracious madam," answered Graeme; "but I 
 am told the page of Lochleven is not the page of Niddrie 
 Castle ; and so Master Henry Seyton hath in a manner been 
 pleased to supersede my attendance." 
 
 "Now, Heaven forgive me," said the Queen, "how soon 
 these cock-chickens begin to spar ! With children and boys, 
 at least, I may be a queen. I will have you friends. Some 
 one send me Henry Seyton hither." As she spoke the last 
 words aloud, the youth whom she had named entered the 
 apartment. "Oome hither," she said, "Henry Seyton. I 
 will have you give your hand to this youth, who so well aided 
 in the plan of my escape." 
 
 " Willingly, madam," answered Seyton, " so that the youth 
 will grant me, as a boon, that he touch not the hand of an- 
 other Seyton whom he knows of. My hand has passed 
 current for hers with him before now j and to win myfriend- 
 ihip, he must give up thoughts of my sister's love/' 
 
THE ABBOT 393 
 
 " Henry Seyton/' said the Queen, ''does it become you to 
 add any condition to my command ? '* 
 
 " Madam/' said Henry, '' I am the servant of your Grace's 
 throne, son to the most loyal man in Scotland. Our goods, 
 our castles, our blood, are yours ; our honor is in our own 
 keeping. I could say more, but '* 
 
 *' Nay, speak on, rude boy,'' said the Queen ; '' what avails 
 it that 1 am released from Lochleven, if I am thus enthralled 
 under the yoke of my pretended deliverers, and prevented 
 from doing justice to one who has deserved as well of me as 
 yourself ? " 
 
 ** Be not in this distemperature of me, sovereign lady," 
 said Roland, '' this young gentleman, being the faithful ser- 
 vant of your Grace, and the brother of Catherine Seyton, 
 bears that about him which will charm down my passion at 
 the hottest." 
 
 ''I warn thee once more," said Henry Seyton, haughtily, 
 *' that you make no speech which may infer that the daugh- 
 ter of Lord Seyton can be aught to thee beyond what she is 
 to every churl's blood in Scotland." 
 
 The Queen was again about to interfere, for Roland's com- 
 plexion rose, and it became somewhat questionable how long 
 his love for Catherine would suppress the natural fire of his 
 temper. But the interposition of another person, hitherto 
 Unseen, prevented Mary's interference. There was in the 
 oratory a separate shrine, inclosed with a high screen of 
 pierced oak, within which was placed an image of St. Ben- 
 net, of peculiar sanctity. From this recess, in which she 
 had been probably engaged in her devotions, issued suddenly 
 Magdelen Graeme, and addressed Henry Seyton in reply to 
 his last offensive expression — ''And of what clay, then, are 
 they molded, these Seytons, that the blood of the Graemes 
 may not aspire to mingle with theirs ? Know, proud boy, 
 that when I called this youth my daughter's child, I affirm 
 his descent from Malise Earl of Strathern, called Malsie 
 with the Bright Brand ; and I trow the blood of your house 
 springs from no higher source." 
 
 " Good mother," said Seyton, " methinks your sanctity 
 should make you superior to these worldly vanities ; and in- 
 deed it seenis to have rendered you somewhat oblivious 
 touching them, since, to be of gentle descent, the father's 
 name and lineage must be as well qualified as the mother's.'* 
 
 "And if I say he comes of the blood of Avenel by the 
 father's side," replied Magdalen Graeme, " name I not blood 
 as richly colored as thine own ? " 
 
394 WAVEBLET NOVELS 
 
 " Of Avenel ! *' said the Queen ; "is my page descended 
 of Avenel ? " 
 
 *' Ay, gracious Princess, and the last male heir of that an- 
 cient house. Julian Avenel was his father, who fell in the 
 battle against the Southron/* 
 
 *' I have heard the tale of sorrow," said the Queen ; " it 
 was thy daughter, then, who followed that unfortunate baron 
 to the field, and died on his body ? Alas ! how many ways 
 does woman's affection find to work out her own misery ! 
 The tale has oft been told and sung in hall and bower. And 
 thou, Roland, art that child of misfortune, who was left 
 among the dead and dying ? Henry Seyton, he is thine 
 equal in blood and birth." 
 
 " Scarcely so," said Henry Seyton, '* even were he legiti- 
 mate ; but if the tale be told and sung aright, Julian Avenel 
 was a false knight, and his leman a frail and credulous 
 maiden." 
 
 *' Now, by Heaven, thou liest ! " said Roland Graeme, and 
 laid his hand on his sword. The entrance of Lord Seyton, 
 however, prevented violence. 
 
 " Save me, my lord," said the Queen ; *' and separate these 
 wild and untamed spirits." 
 
 "How, Henry !" said the baron, "are my castle and the 
 Queen's presence no check on thy insolence and impetuos- 
 ity ? And with whom art thou brawling ? Unless my eyes 
 spell that token false, it is with the very youth who aided me 
 BO gallantly in the skirmish with the Leslies. Let me look, 
 fair youth, at the medal which thou wearest in thy cap. By 
 St. Bennet, it is the same ! Henry, I command thee to for- 
 bear him, as thou lovest my blessing " 
 
 "And as you honor my command," said the Queen; "good 
 service hath he done me." 
 
 " Ay, madam," replied young Seyton, "as when he carried 
 the billet, inclosed in the sword-sheath, to Lochleven. 
 Marry, the good youth knew no more than a pack-horse what 
 he was carrying." 
 
 " But I, who dedicated him to this great work," said Mag- 
 dalen Graeme — " I, by whose advice and agency this just heir 
 hath been unloosed from her thraldom — I, who spared not 
 the last remaining hope of a falling house in this great action 
 — I, at least, knew and counseled ; and what merit may be 
 mine, let the reward, most gracious Queen, descend upon 
 this youth. My ministry here is ended : you are free — a 
 sovereign princess at the head of a gallant army, surrounded 
 by valiant barons. My service could avail you no farther. 
 
THE ABBOT 395 
 
 but might well prejudice you ; your fortune now rests upon 
 men's hearts and men's swords. May they prove as trusty 
 as the faith of women ! " 
 
 " You will not leave us, mother/' said the Queen — '* you 
 whose practises in our favor were so powerful, who dared so 
 many dangers, and wore so many disguises, to blind our 
 enemies and to confirm our friends — ^you will not leave us in 
 the dawn of our reviving fortunes, ere we have time to know 
 and to thank you ? " 
 
 '^ You cannot know her," answered Magdalen Graeme, 
 " who knows not herself : there are times when, in this 
 woman's frame of mine, there is the strength of him of 
 Gath ; in this overtoiled brain, the wisdom of the most sage 
 counselor ; and again the mist is on me, and my strength is 
 weakness, my wisdom folly. I have spoken before princes 
 and cardinals — ay, noble Princess, even before the princess 
 of thine own house of Lorraine — and I know not whence the 
 words of persuasion came which flowed from my lips, and 
 were drunk in by their ears. And now, even when I most 
 need words of persuasion, there is something which chokes 
 my voice and robs me of utterance." 
 
 " If there be aught in my power to do thee pleasure," said 
 the Queen, " the barely naming it shall avail as well as all 
 thine eloquence." 
 
 '' Sovereign lady," replied the enthusiast, " it shames me 
 that at this high moment something of human frailty should 
 cling to one whose vows the saints have heard, whose labors 
 in the rightful cause Heaven has prospered. But it will be 
 thus, while the living spirit is shrined in the clay of mortal- 
 ity. I will yield to the folly," she said, weeping as she 
 spoke, *' and it shall be the last." Then seizing Roland's 
 hand, she led him to the Queen's feet, kneeling herself upon 
 one knee, and causing him to kneel on both. " Mighty 
 Princess," she said, '* look on this flower — it was found by a 
 kindly stranger on a bloody field of battle, and long it was 
 ere my anxious eyes saw, and my arms pressed, all that was 
 left of my only daughter. For your sake, and for that of 
 the holy faith we both profess, I could leave this plant, 
 while it was yet tender, to the nurture of strangers — ay, of 
 enemies, by whom, perchance, his blood would have been 
 poured forth as wine, had the heretic Glendinning known 
 that he had in his house the heir of Julian Avenel. Since 
 then I have seen him only in a few hours of doubt and 
 dread, and now I part with the child of my love— forever — 
 forever I 0, for every weary gtep I Iw^v^ wade in yo^i 
 
396 WAVEBLET NOVELS 
 
 rightful canse, m this and in foreign lands, give protection 
 to the child whom I must no more call mine ! " 
 
 " I swear to you, mother," said the Queen, deeply affected,. 
 '^ that, for your sake and his own, his happiness and fortune 
 shall be our charge ! " 
 
 " I thank you, daughter of princes," said Magdalen, and 
 pressed her lips, first to the Queen's hand, then to the brow 
 of her grandson. '* And now," she said, drying her tears, 
 and rising with dignity, *' earth has had its own, and Heaven 
 claims the rest. Lioness of Scotland, go forth and conquer ! 
 and if the prayers of a devoted votaress can avail thee, they 
 will rise in many a land, and from many a distant shrine. 
 I will glide like a ghost from land to land, from temple to 
 temple ; and where the very name of my country is un- 
 known, the priests shall ask who is the queen of that distant 
 northern clime, for whom the aged pilgrim was so fervent 
 in prayer. Farewell ! Honor be thine, and earthly prosper- 
 ity, if it be the will of God ; if not, may the penance thou 
 shalt do here ensure thy happiness hereafter I Let no one 
 speak or follow me — my resolution is taken — my vow cannot 
 be canceled/' 
 
 She glided from their presence as she spoke, and her last 
 look was upon her beloved grandchild. He would have 
 risen and followed, but the Queen and Lord Seyton inter- 
 fered. 
 
 " Press not on her now,'' said Lord Seyton, '^ if you would 
 not lose her forever. Many a time have we seen the sainted 
 mother, and often at the most needful moment ; but to 
 press on her privacy, or to thwart her purpose, is a crime 
 which she cannot pardon. I trust we shall yet see her at 
 her need — a holy woman she is for certain, and delicated 
 wholly to prayer and penance ; and hence the heretics 
 hold her as one distracted, while true Catholics deem her 
 a saint.'* 
 
 '* Let me then hope," said the Queen, ''that you, my lord, 
 will aid me in the execution of her last request." 
 
 *' What ! in the protection of my young second ? — cheer- 
 fully — that is, in all that your Majesty can think it fitting 
 to ask of me.' Henry, give thy hand upon the instant to 
 Roland Avenel, for so I presume he must now be called." 
 
 " And shall be lord of the barony," said the Queen, '' if 
 God prosper our rightful arms." 
 
 "It can only be to restore it to my kind protectress, 
 who now holds it," said young Avenel. " I would rather 
 be landless all my life than she lost a rood of ground by me." 
 
THE ABBOT 
 
 m 
 
 ** Nay/' said the Queen, looking to Lord Seyton, ** his 
 mind matches his birth. Henry, thou hast not yet given 
 thy hand/' 
 
 '^ It is his/' said Henry, giving it with some appearance of 
 courtesy, but whispering Eoland at the same time, ** For all 
 this thou hast not my sister's/' 
 
 ^^ May it please your Grace," said Lord Seyton, "now that 
 these passages are over, to honor our poor meal. Time it 
 were that our banners were reflected in the Clyde. We 
 must to horse with as little delay as may be/' 
 
CHAPTER XXXVn 
 
 Ay, sir — our ancient crown, in these wild times, 
 Oft stood upon a cast ; the gamester's ducat, 
 So often staked, and lost, and then regain'd, 
 Scarce knew so many hazards. 
 
 Hie Spanish Father, 
 
 It is not our object to enter into the historical part of the 
 reign of the ill-fated Mary, or to recount how, during the 
 week which succeeded her flight from Lochleven, her par- 
 tisans mustered around her with their followers, forming a 
 gallant army, amounting to six thousand men. So much 
 light has been lately thrown on the most minute details of 
 the period by Mr. Chalmers, in his valuable History of 
 Queen Mary, that the reader may be safely referred to it for 
 the fullest information which ancient records afford concern- 
 ing that interesting time. It is sufficient for our purpose to 
 say, that while Mary's headquarters were at Hamilton, the 
 Regent and his adherents had, in the King's name, assembled 
 a host at Glasgow, inferior indeed to that of the Queen in 
 numbers, but formidable from the military talents of Murray, 
 Morton, the Laird of Grange, and others, who had been 
 trained from their youth in foreign and domestic wars. 
 
 In these circumstances, it was the obvious policy of Queen 
 Mary to avoid a conflict, secure that, were her person once 
 in safety, the number of her adherents must daily increase ; 
 whereas, the forces of those opposed to her must, as had fre- 
 quently happened in the previous history of her reign, have 
 diminished, and their spirits become broken. And so evi- 
 dent was this to her counselors, that they resolved their first 
 step should be to place the Queen in the strong castle of 
 Dunbarton, there to await the course of events, the arrival 
 of succors from France, and the levies which were made by 
 her adherents in every province in Scotland. Accordingly, 
 orders were given that all men should be on horseback or on 
 foot, appareled in their armor, and ready to follow the Queen's 
 standard in array of battle, the avowed determination being 
 to escort her to the castle of Dunbarton in defiance of her 
 enemies. 
 
 The muster waa made upon Hamilton Moor, and the march 
 
 ao6 
 
THE ABBOT 899 
 
 commenced in all the pomp of feudal times. Military music 
 Bounded, banners and pennons waved, armor glittered far 
 and wide, and spears glanced and twinkled like stars in a 
 frosty sky. The gallant spectacle of warlike parade was on 
 this occasion dignified by the presence of the Queen herself, 
 who, with a fair retinue of ladies and household attendants, 
 and a special guard of gentlemen, amongst whom young 
 Seyton and Roland were distinguished, gave grace at once 
 and confidence to the army, which spread its ample files be- 
 fore, around, and behind her. Many churchmen also joined 
 the cavalcade, most of whom did not scruple to assume arms, 
 and declare their intention of wielding them in defense of 
 Mary and the Catholic faith. Not so the abbot of St, Mary's. 
 Roland had not seen this prelate since the night of their es- 
 cape from Lochleven, and he now beheld him, robed in the 
 dress of his order, assume his station near the Queen's per- 
 son. Roland hastened to pull off his basnet, and beseech 
 the abbot's blessing. 
 
 " Thou hast it, my son \" said the priest ; " I see thee 
 now under thy true name, and in thy rightful garb. The 
 helmet with the holly-branch befits your brows well. I have 
 long waited for the hour thou shouldest assume it." 
 
 " Then you knew of my descent, my good father ? " said 
 Roland. 
 
 '^ I did so, but it was under seal of confession from thy 
 grandmother ; nor was I at liberty to tell the secret till she 
 herself should make it known." 
 
 *'Her reason for such secrecy, my father ?" said Roland 
 Avenel. 
 
 '*Fear, perchance, of my brother — a mistaken fear, for 
 Halbert would not, to ensure himself a kingdom, have offered 
 wrong to an orphan ; besides that your title, in quiet times, 
 even had your father done your mother that justice which I 
 well hope he did, could not have competed with that of my 
 brother s wife, the child of Julian's elder brother." 
 
 ''They need fear no competition from me," said Avenel. 
 " Scotland is wide enough, and there are many manors to 
 win, without plundering my benefactor. But prove to me, 
 my reverend father, that my father was just to my mother ; 
 show me that I may call myself a legitimate Avenel, and 
 make me your bounden slave forever ! " 
 
 " Ay," replied the abbot, ''I hear the Seytons hold thee 
 cheap for that stain on thy shield. Something, however, I 
 have learnt from the late Abbot Boniface, which, if it prore 
 sooth, may jedeem that reproach.'* 
 
400 WA VERLET NOVELS 
 
 '* Tell me that blessed news/' said Roland, ''and the 
 future service of m^ life " 
 
 " Rash boy ! " said the abbot, " I should but madden thine 
 impatient temper b}^ exciting hopes that may never be ful- 
 filled, and is this a time for them ? Think on what perilous 
 march we are bound, and if thou hast a sin unconfessed, 
 neglect not the only leisure which Heaven may perchance 
 afford thee for confession and absolution." 
 
 '' There will be time enough for both, I trust, when we 
 reach Dunbarton/' answered the page. 
 
 *'Ay," said the abbot, *'thou crowest as loudly as the 
 rest ; but we are not yet at Dunbarton, and there is a lion 
 in the path." 
 
 '* Mean you Murray, Morton, and the other rebels at Glas- 
 gow, my reverend father ? Tush ! they dare not look on 
 the royal banner." 
 
 '* Even so," replied the abbot, '' speak many of those who 
 are older, and should be wiser, than thou. I have returned 
 from the southern shires, where I left many a chief of name 
 arming in the Queen^s interest. I left the lords here wise 
 and considered men ; I find them madmen on my return : 
 they are willing, for mere pride and vainglory, to brave the 
 enemy, and to carry the Queen, as it were in triumph, past 
 the walls of Glasgow, and under the beards of the adverse 
 army. Seldom does Heaven smile on such mistimed con- 
 fidence. We shall be encountered, and that to the purpose." 
 
 '' And so much the better," replied Roland ; '' the field of 
 battle was my cradle." 
 
 *' Beware it be not thy dying-bed," said the abbot. *' But 
 what avails it whispering to young wolves the dangers of the 
 chase ? You will know, perchance, ere this day is out, 
 what yonder men are, whom you hold in rash contempt." 
 
 *' Why, what are they ? " said Henry Seyton, who now 
 joined them. '' Have they sinews of wire and flesh of iron ? 
 Will lead pierce and steel cut them ? If so, reverend father, 
 we have little to fear." 
 
 ''They are evil men," said the abbot, "but the trade of 
 war demands no saints. Murray and Morton are known to 
 be the best generals in Scotland. No one ever saw Linde- 
 say^s or Ruthven's back. Kirkcaldy of Grange was named 
 by the Constable Montmorency the first soldier in Europe. 
 My brother, too good a name for such a cause, has been far 
 and wide known for a leader." 
 
 " The better — the better ! " said Seyton, triumphantly ; 
 »' we shall have all these traitors of rank and name in a fair 
 
I 
 
 THE ABBOT 401 
 
 field before us. Our cause is the best, our numbers are the 
 •trongest, our hearts and limbs match theirs. St. Bennet, 
 and set on I " 
 
 The abbot made no reply, but seemed lost in reflection ; 
 and his anxiety in some measure communicated itself to 
 Roland Avenel, who ever, as their line of march led over a 
 ridge or an eminence, cast an anxious look towards the 
 towers of Glasgow, as if he expected to see symptoms of the 
 enemy issiiixig forth. It was not that he feared the fight, 
 but the issue was of such deep import to his country and to 
 himself that the natural fire of his spirit burned with a less 
 lively, though with a more intense, glow. Love, honor, 
 fame, fortune, all seemed to depend on the issue of one 
 field, rashly hazarded perhaps, but now likely to become un- 
 avoidable and decisive. 
 
 When, at length, their march came to be nearly parallel 
 with the city of Glasgow, Roland became sensible that the 
 high grounds before them were already in part occupied by a 
 force, showing, like their own, the royal banner of Scotland, 
 and on the point of being supported by columns of infantry 
 and squadrons of horse, which the city gates had poured 
 forth, and which hastily advanced to sustain those troops 
 who already possessed the ground in front of the Queen's 
 forces. Horseman after horseman galloped in from the ad- 
 vanced guard, with tidings that Murray had taken the field 
 with his whole army ; that his object was to intercept the 
 Queen's march, and his purpose unquestionable to hazard a 
 battle. It was now that the tempers of men were subjected 
 to a sudden and a severe trial ; and that those who had too 
 presumptuously concluded that they should pass without 
 combat were something disconcerted, when, at once, and 
 with little time to deliberate, they found themselves placed 
 in front of a resolute enemy. Their chiefs immediately as- 
 sembled around the Queen, and held a hasty council of war. 
 Mary's quivering lip confessed the fear which she endeavored 
 to conceal under a bold and dignified demeanor. But her 
 efforts were overcome by painful recollections of the disas- 
 trous issue of her last appearance in arms at Carberry Hill ; 
 and, when she meant to have asked them their advice for 
 ordering the battle, she involuntarily inquired whether there 
 were no means of escaping without an engagement ? 
 
 " Escaping ! " answered the Lord Seyton. " When I stand 
 as one to ten of your Highness's enemies, I may think of 
 escape, but never while I stand with three to two ! " 
 
 *' Battle I — battle !" exclaimed the assembled lords ; " we 
 26 
 
i02 WAVEELET NOVELS 
 
 will drive the rebels from their vantage ground, as the hound 
 turns the hare on the hillside/' 
 
 " Methinks, my noble lords/' said the abbot, '' it were as 
 well to prevent his gaining that advantage. Our road lies 
 through yonder hamlet on the brow, and whichever party 
 hath the luck to possess it, with its little gardens and in- 
 closures, will attain a post of great defense." 
 
 "The reverend father is right," said the Queen. ''0, 
 haste thee, Seyton — haste, and get thither before them ; they 
 are marching like the wind.'' 
 
 Seyton bowed low, and turned his horse's head. '' Youi 
 Highness honors me," he said ; *' I will instantly press for- 
 ward and seize the pass." 
 
 " Not before me, my lord, whose charge is the command 
 of the vanguard," said the Lord of Arbroath. 
 
 ** Before you, or any Hamilton in Scotland," said the Sey- 
 ton, '^ having the Queen's command. Follow me, gentle- 
 men, my vassals and kinsmen. St. Bennet, and set on ! " 
 
 ''And follow me," said Arbroath, "my noble kinsmen 
 and brave men-tenants ; we will see which will first reach the 
 post of danger. For God and Queen Mary ! " 
 
 "Ill-omened haste and most unhappy strife," said the 
 abbot, who saw them and their followers rush hastily and 
 emulously to ascend the height, without waiting till their 
 men were placed in order. " And you, gentlemen," he 
 continued, addressing Roland and Seyton, who were each 
 about to follow those who hastened thus disorderly to the 
 conflict, "will you leave the Queen's person unguarded ?" 
 
 " 0, leave me not, gentlemen ! " said the Queen — " Roland 
 and Seyton, do not leave me ; there are enough of arms to 
 strike in this fell combat — withdraw not those to whom I 
 trust for my safety I " 
 
 " We may not leave her Grace," said Roland, looking at 
 Seyton, and turning his horse. 
 
 " I ever looked when thou wouldst find out that," rejoined 
 the fiery youth. 
 
 Roland made no answer, but bit his lip till the blood came, 
 and spurring his horse up to the side of Catherine Seyton's 
 
 Ealfrey, he whispered in a low voice, " I never thought to 
 ave done aught to deserve you ; but this day I have heard 
 myself upbraided with cowardice, and my sword remained 
 itill sheathed, and all for the love of you." 
 
 "There is madness among us all," said the damsel : "my 
 father, my brother, and you are all alike bereft of reason. 
 X« should -think: only of this poor. Queen,. and you are all 
 
THE ABBOT 403 
 
 inspired by your own absurd jealousies. The monk is 
 the only soldier and man of sense amongst you all. My lord 
 abbot/' she cried aloud, ^' were it not better we should draw 
 to the westward, and wait the event that God shall send us, 
 instead of remaining here in the highway, endangering the 
 Queen's person, and cumbering the troops in their advance ? '* 
 
 "You say well, my daughter," replied the abbot; "had 
 we but one to guide us where the Queen's person may be in 
 Bafety ! Our nobles hurry to the conflict, without casting a 
 thought on the very cause of the war." 
 
 " Follow me," said a knight, or man-at-arms, well mounted, 
 and accoutred completely in black armor, but having 
 the visor of his helmet closed, and bearing no crest on his 
 helmet, or device upon his shield. 
 
 " We will follow no stranger," said the abbot, " without 
 some warrant of his truth." 
 
 " I am a stranger and in your hands," said the horseman ; 
 " if you wish to know more of me, the Queen herself will be 
 your warrant." 
 
 The Queen had remained fixed to the spot, as if disabled 
 by fear, yet mechanically smiling, bowing, and waving her 
 hand, as banners were lowered and spears depressed before 
 her, while, emulating the strife betwixt Seyton and Arbroath, 
 band on band pressed forward their march towards the 
 enemy. Scarce, however, had the black rider whispered 
 something in her ear, than she assented to what he said ; and 
 when he spoke aloud, and with an air of command, " Gentle- 
 men, it is the Queen's pleasure that you should follow me,*' 
 Mary uttered, with something like eagerness, the word 
 ''Yes.'' 
 
 All were in motion in an instant ; for the black horse- 
 man, throwing off a sort of apathy of manner which his first 
 appearance indicated, spurred his horse, to and fro, making 
 him take such active bounds and short turns as showed the 
 rider master of the animal ; and getting the Queen's little 
 retinue in some order for marching, he led them to the left, 
 directing his course towards a castle, which, crowning a 
 gentle yet commanding eminence, presented an extensive 
 view over the country beneath, and, in particular, com- 
 manded a view of those heights which both armies hastened 
 to occupy, and which it was now apparent must almost in- 
 stantly be the scene of struggle and dispute. 
 
 " Yonder towers," said the abbot, questioning the sabl« 
 horseman, "to whom do they belong r and are they now in 
 the hands of friends ?" 
 
404 WA VEBLEY NOVELS 
 
 '* They are untenanted/' replied the stranger, *' or, at least, 
 they have no hostile inmates. But urge these youths, sir 
 abbot, to make more haste ; this is but an evil time to satisfy 
 their idle curiosity, by peering out upon the battle in which 
 they are to take no share/' 
 
 " The worse luck mine," said Henry Seyton, who overheard 
 him ; "I would rather be under my father's banner at this 
 moment than be made chamberlain of Holyrood, for this my 
 present duty of peaceful ward well and patiently discharged/* 
 
 " Your place under your father's banner will shortly? be 
 right dangerous," said Roland Avenel, who, pressing his 
 horse towards the westward, had still his look reverted to the 
 armies ; " for I see yonder body of cavalry which presses 
 from the eastward will reach the village ere Lord Seyton can 
 gain it/' 
 
 ** They are but cavalry," said Seyton, looking attentively ; 
 ^' they cannot hold the village without shot of harquebuss/' 
 
 **Look more closely," said Roland; "you will see that 
 each of these horsemen who advance so rapidly from Glasgow 
 carries a footman behind him/' 
 
 " Now, by Heaven, he speaks well ! " said the black cava- 
 lier ; " one of you two must go carry the news to Lord 
 Seyton and Lord Arbroath, that they hasten not their horse- 
 men on before the foot, but advance more regularly/' 
 
 " Be that my errand," said Roland, " for I first marked 
 the stratagem of the enemy/' 
 
 '' But, by your leave," said Seyton, " yonder is my father's 
 banner engaged, and it best becomes me to go to the rescue/' 
 
 " I will stand by the Queen's decision," said Roland 
 Avenel. 
 
 "What new appeal? — what new quarrel?" said Queen 
 Mary. " Are there not in yonder dark host enemies enough 
 to Mary Stuart, but must her very friends turn enemies to 
 each other ? " 
 
 "Nay, madam," said Roland, "the young Master of 
 Seyton and I did but dispute who should leave your person 
 to do a most needful message to the host. He thought hia 
 rank entitled him, and I deemed that the person of least con- 
 sequence, being myself, were better periled " 
 
 "Not so," said the Queen ; " if one must leave me, be it 
 Seyton/' 
 
 Henry Seyton bowed till the white plumes on his helmet 
 mixed with the flowing mane of his gallant war-horse, then 
 placed himself firm in his saddle, shook his lance aloft with 
 an air of triumph and determination, and gtriking his honse 
 
THE ABBOT 405 
 
 vith the spnrs, made towards his father's banner, which waa 
 still advancing up the hill, and dashed his steed over everj 
 obstacle that occurred in his headlong path. 
 
 '' My brother ! my father ! " exclaimed Catherine, with an 
 expression of agonized apprehension — " they are in the midst 
 of peril, and I in safety ! " 
 
 '' Would to God,'' said Roland, "that I were with them, 
 and could ransom every drop of their blood by two of mine ! " 
 
 ** Do I not know thou dost wish it ? " said Catherine. 
 ^* Can a woman say to a man what I have well-nigh said to 
 thee, and yet think that he could harbor fear or faintness of 
 heart ? There is that in yon distant sound of approaching 
 battle that pleases me even while it affrights me. I would I 
 were a man, that I might feel that stern delight without the 
 mixture of terror ! " 
 
 " Ride up — ride up. Lady Catherine Seyton," cried the 
 abbot, as they still swept on at a rapid pace, and were now 
 close beneath the walls of the castle — *^ ride up, and aid Lady 
 Fleming to support the Queen — she gives way more and 
 more.^' 
 
 They halted and lifted Mary from the saddle, and were 
 about to support her towards the castle, when she said 
 faintly, '^Not there — not there: these walls will I never 
 enter more ! " 
 
 "Be a queen, madam," said the abbot, " and forget that 
 yon are a woman." 
 
 " 0, I must forget much — much more," answered the un- 
 fortunate Mary, in an undertone, " ere I can look with steady 
 eyes on these well-known scenes I I must forget the days 
 which I spent here as the bride of the lost — the mur- 
 dered " 
 
 " This is the castle of the Crookstone," said the Lady 
 Fleming, " in which the Queen held her first court after she 
 was married to Darnley." 
 
 " Heaven," said the abbot, " Thy hand is upon us ! Bear 
 yet up, madam ; your foes are the foes of Holy Church, and 
 God will this day decide whether Scotland shall be Catholic 
 or heretic." 
 
 A heavy and continued fire of cannon and musketry bore 
 a tremendous burden to his words, and seemed far more than 
 they to recall the spirits of the Queen. 
 
 '• To yonder tree," she said, pointing to a yew-tree which 
 grew on a small mount close to the castle ; " I know it 
 well — from thence you may see a prospect wide as from thi 
 peaks of SchehaUion." 
 
406 WAVEBLET NOVELS 
 
 And freeing lierself from her assistants, she walked with 
 a determined, yet somewhat wild, step up to the stem of the 
 noble yew. The abbot, Catherine, and Roland Avenel fol- 
 lowed her, while Lady Fleming kept back the inferior persons 
 of her train. The black horseman also followed the Queen, 
 waiting on her as closely as the shadow upon the light, but 
 ever remaining at the distance of two or three yards ; he folded 
 his arms on his bosom, turned his back to the battle, and 
 seemed solely occupied by gazing on Mary through the bars 
 of his closed visor. The Queen regarded him not, but fixed 
 her eyes upon the spreading yew. 
 
 " Ay, fair and stately tree,^' she said, as if at the sight of 
 ft she had been rapt away from the present scene, and had 
 overcome the horror which had oppressed her at the first 
 approach to Crookstone, '* there thou stand est, gay and 
 goodly as ever, though thou hearest the sounds of war in- 
 stead of the vows of love. All is gone since I last greeted thee — 
 love and lover — vows and vower — king and kingdom. How 
 goes the field, my lord abbot ? with us, I trust ; yet what 
 but evil can Mary^s eyes witness from this spot ? " 
 
 Her attendants eagerly bent their eyes on the field of bat- 
 tle, but could discover nothing more than that it was 
 obstinately contested. The small inclosures and cottage 
 gardens in the village, of which they had a full and command- 
 ing view, and which shortly before lay, with their lines of 
 sycamore and ash-trees, so still and quiet in the mild light of 
 a May sun, were now each converted into a line of fire, can- 
 opied by smoke ; and the sustained and constant report of 
 the musketry and cannon, mingled with the shouts of the 
 meeting combatants, showed that as yet neither party had 
 given ground. 
 
 '* Many a soul finds its final departure to heaven or hell in 
 these awful thunders, *' said the abbot ; '^ let those that be- 
 lieve in the Holy Church join me in orisons for victory in 
 ^hifl dreadful combat. '' 
 
 *' Not here — not here,'' said the unfortunate Queen — " prav 
 not here, father, or pray in silence ; my mind is too much 
 torn between the past and the present to dare to approach 
 the Heavenly throne. Or, if ye will pray, be it for one whose 
 fondest affections have been her greatest crimes, and who has 
 ceased to be a queen only because she was a deceived and a 
 tender-hearted woman.'' 
 
 ** Were it not well," said Roland, " that I rode somewhat 
 nearer the hosts, and saw the fate of the day ? " 
 
 ** Vo so, in the name of Ood," said the abbot , '' for if our 
 
THE ABBOT 407 
 
 friends are scattered, our flight must be hasty ; hut beware 
 thou approach not too nigh the conflict : there is more than 
 thine own life depends on thy safe return/' 
 
 '' 0, go not too nigh/' said Catherine ; *' but fail not to 
 see how the Seytons fight, and how they bear themselves." 
 
 ^' Fear nothing, I will be on my guard,'* said Roland 
 Avenel ; and without waiting further answer, rode towards 
 the scene of conflict, keeping, as he rode, the higher and 
 uninclosed ground, and ever looking cautiously around him, 
 for fear of involving himself in some hostile party. As he 
 approached, the shots rung sharp and more sharply on his 
 ear, the shouts came wilder and wilder, and he felt that 
 thick beating of the heart, that mixture of natural apprehen- 
 sion, intense curiosity, and anxiety for the dubious event, 
 which even the bravest experience when they approach alone 
 to a scene of interest and of danger. 
 
 At length he drew so close that, from a bank, screened 
 by bushes and underwood, he could distinctly see where the 
 struggle was most keenly maintained. This was in a hollow 
 way, leading to the village, up which the Queen's vanguard 
 had marched, with more hasty courage than well-advised 
 conduct, for the purpose of possessing themselves of that 
 post of advantage. They found their scheme anticipated, 
 and the hedges and inclosures already occupied by the 
 enemy, led by the celebrated Kirkcaldy of Grange and the 
 Earl of Morton ; and not small was the loss which they sus- 
 tained while struggling forward to come to close with the 
 men-at-arms on the other side. But, as the Queen's 
 followers were chiefly noblemen and barons, with their 
 kinsmen and followers, they had pressed onward, contemning 
 obstacles and danger, and had, when Roland arrived on the 
 ground, met hand to hand at the gorge of the pass with the 
 Regent's vanguard, and endeavored to bear them out of the 
 village at the spear-point ; while their foes, equally deter- 
 mined to keep the advantage which they had attained, strug- 
 gled with the like obstinacy to drive back the assailants. 
 
 Both parties were on foot, and armed in proof ; so that, 
 when the long lances of the front ranks were fixed in each 
 other's shields, corslets, and breastplates, the struggle 
 resembled that of two bulls, who, fixing their frontlets hard 
 against each other, remain in that posture for hours, until 
 the superior strength or obstinacy of the one compels the 
 other to take to flight, or bears him down to the earth. 
 Thus locked together in the deadly struggle, which swayed 
 ilowly to and fro, as one or other party gained the advantage, 
 
406 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 those who fell were trampled on alike by friends and foes ; 
 those whose weapons were broken retired from the front ranks, 
 and had their place supplied by others ; while the rearward 
 ranks, unable otherwise to take share in the combat, fired 
 their pistols, and hurled their daggers, and the points and 
 truncheons of the broken weapons, like javelins against the 
 enemy. 
 
 " God and the Queen ! " resounded from the one party ; 
 '* God and the King ! " thundered from the other ; while, 
 in the name of their sovereign, fellow-subjects on both sides 
 shed each other^s blood, and, in the name of their Creator, 
 defaced His image. Amid the tumult was often heard the 
 voices of the captains shouting their commands, of leaders 
 and chiefs crying their gathering words, of groans and 
 shrieks from the falling and the dying. 
 
 The strife had lasted nearly an hour. The strength of 
 both parties seemed exhausted ; but their rage was unabated, 
 and their obstinacy unsubdued, when Eoland, who turned 
 eye and ear to all around him, saw a column of infantry, 
 headed by a few horsemen, wheel round the base of the bank 
 where he had stationed himself, and, leveling their long 
 lances, attack the flank of the Queen's vanguard, closely 
 engaged as they were in conflict on their front. The very 
 first glance showed him that the leader who directed this 
 movement was the Knight of Avenel, his ancient master ; 
 and the next convinced him that its effect would be decisive. 
 The result of the attack of fresh and unbroken forces upon 
 the flank of those already wearied with a long and obstinate 
 struggle was, indeed, instantaneous. 
 
 The column of the assailants, which had hitherto shown 
 one dark, dense, and united line of helmets, surmounted 
 with plumage, was at once broken and hurled in confusion 
 down the hill which they had so long endeavored to gain. 
 In vain were the leaders heard calling upon their followers 
 to stand to the combat, and seen personally resisting when 
 all resistance was evidently vain. They were slain, or felled 
 to the earth, or hurried backwards by the mingled tide of 
 flight and pursuit. What were Roland's thoughts on be- 
 holding the rout, and feeling that all that remained for him 
 was to turn bridle, and endeavor to insure the safety of the 
 Queen's person ! Yet, keen as his grief and shame might 
 be, they were both forgotten when, almost close beneath the 
 bank which he occupied, he saw Henry Seyton forced away 
 from his own party in the tumult, covered with dust and 
 blood, and defending himself desperately against several oi 
 
THE ABBOT 409 
 
 the enemy who had gathered around him, attracted by his 
 gay armor. Koland paused not a moment, but pushing his 
 steed down the bank, leaped him amongst the hostile party, 
 dealt three or four blows amongst them, which struck down 
 two and made the rest stand aloof, then reaching Seyton his 
 hand, he exhorted him to seize fast hold on his horse^s 
 mane. 
 
 '* We live or die together this day," said he ; " keep but 
 fast hold till we are out of the press, and then my horse is 
 yours." 
 
 Seyton heard, and exerted his remaining strength, and> 
 by their joint efforts, Eoland brought him out of danger, 
 and behind the spot from whence he had witnessed the 
 disastrous conclusion of the fight. But no sooner were they 
 under shelter of the trees than Seyton let go his hold, and, 
 in spite of Roland's efforts to support him, fell at length on 
 the turf. '' Trouble yourself no more with me," he said, 
 *' this is my first and my last battle, and I have already seen 
 too much of it to wish to see the close. Hasten to save the 
 Queen — and commend me to Catherine ; she will never more 
 be mistaken for me nor 1 for her — the last sword-stroke has 
 made an eternal distinction." 
 
 *' Let me aid you to mount my horse," said Roland, eagerly, 
 *' and you may yet be saved. I can find my own way on 
 foot. Turn but my horse's head westward, and he will carry 
 you fleet and easy as the wind." 
 
 '' I will never mount steed more," said the youth ; '' fare- 
 well ! I love thee better dying than ever I thought to have 
 done while in life. I would that old man's blood were not 
 on my hand ! Sancte Benedicte ora pro me I Stand hot to 
 look on a dying man, but haste to save the Queen ! " 
 
 These words were spoken with the last effort of his voice, 
 and scarce were they uttered ere the speaker was no more. 
 They recalled Roland to the sense of the duty which he had 
 well-nigh forgotten, but they did not reach his ears only. 
 
 " The Queen — where is the Queen ? " said Sir Halbert 
 Glendinning, who, followed by two or three horsemen, apr 
 peared at this instant. Roland made no answer, but turning 
 his horse, and confiding in his speed, gave him at once rein 
 and spur, and rode over height and hollow towards the Castle 
 of Orookstone. More heavily armed, and mounted upon a 
 horse of less speed. Sir Halbert Glendinning followed with 
 couched lance, calling out as he rode, ''Sir with the holly- 
 branch, halt, and show your right to bea,r that badge : fly 
 Dot thus cowardly, nor dishonor the cognizance thow 
 
410 WAVERLET NOVELS 
 
 deservest not to wear ! Halt, sir coward, or, by Heaven, 1 
 will strike thee with my lance on the back, and slay thee 
 like a dastard. I am the Knight of Avenel — I am Sir 
 Halbert Glendinning/' 
 
 But Roland, who had no purpose of encountering his old 
 master, and who, besides, knew the Queen^s safety depended 
 on his making the best speed he could, answered not. a word 
 to the defiances and reproaches which Sir Halbert continued 
 to throw out against him ; but making the best use of his 
 spurs, rode yet harder than before, and had gained about a 
 hundred yards upon his pursuer, when, coming near to the 
 yew-tree where he had left the Queen, he saw them already 
 getting to horse, and cried out as loud as he could, '* Foes ! — - 
 foes ! Ride for it, fair ladies. Brave gentlemen, do your 
 devoir to protect them ! " 
 
 So saying, he wheeled his horse, and avoiding the shock 
 of Sir Halbert Glendinning, charged one of that knight's 
 followers, who was nearly on a line with him, so rudely with 
 his lance that he overthrew horse and man. He then drew 
 his sword and attacked the second, wnile the black man-at- 
 arms, throwing himself in the way of Glendinning, they 
 rushed on each other so fiercely that both horses were over- 
 thrown, and the riders lay rolling on the plain. Neither was 
 able to arise, for the black horseman was pierced through 
 with Glendinning's lance, and the Knight of Avenel, op- 
 pressed with the weight of his own horse, and sorely bruised 
 besides, seemed in little better plight than he whom he had 
 mortally wounded. 
 
 *' Yield thee, Sir Knight of Avenel, rescue or no rescue,*' 
 said Roland, who had put a second antagonist out of con- 
 dition to combat, and hastened to prevent Glendinning from 
 renewing the conflict. 
 
 *' I may not choose but yield,'* said Sir Halbert, " since I 
 can no longer fight ; but it shames me to speak such a word 
 to a coward like thee ! " 
 
 *' Call me not coward," said Roland, lifting his visor, and 
 helping his prisoner to rise, '* since but for old kindness at 
 thy hand, and yet more at thy lady's, I had met thee as a 
 brave man should." 
 
 " The favorite page of my wife!" said Sir Halbert, as- 
 tonished. '* Ah ! wretched boy, I have heard of thy treason 
 at Lochleven." 
 
 "Reproach him not, my brother," said the abbot, *'he 
 If as but an agent in the hands of Heaven." 
 
 '* To horse — to horse I " said Catherin* Seyton ; " mount 
 
THE ABBOT 411 
 
 and be gone, or we are all lost. I see our gallant army fly* 
 ing for many a league. To horse, my lord abbot ! To horse, 
 Roland ! My gracious liege, to horse ! Ere this, we should 
 have ridden a mile." 
 
 "Look on these features," said Mary, pointing to the 
 dying knight, who had been unhelmed by some compassion- 
 ate hand — " look there, and tell me if she who ruins all who 
 love her ought to fly a foot farther to save her wretched 
 life!" 
 
 The reader must have long anticipated the discovery which 
 the Queen^s feelings had made before her eyes confirmed it. 
 a was the features of the unhappy George Douglas, on which 
 death was stamping his mark. 
 
 '* Look — look at him well," said the Queen, ''thus has it 
 been with all that loved Mary Stuart ! The royalty of 
 Francis, the wit of Chastelar, the power and gallantry of the 
 gay Gordon, the melody of Rizzio, the portly form and 
 youthful grace of Darnley, the bold address and courtly 
 manners of Bothwell, and now the deep-devoted passion of 
 the noble Douglas — naught could save them : they looked 
 on the wretched Mary, and to have loved her was crime 
 enough to deserve early death ! No sooner had the victim 
 formed a kind thought of me than the poisoned cup, the ax 
 and block, the dagger, the mine were ready to punish them 
 for casting away affection on such a wretch as I am I Im- 
 portune me not : I will fly no farther. I can die but once, 
 and I will die here." 
 
 While she spoke, her tears fell fast on the face of the dy- 
 ing man, who continued to fix his eyes on her with an eager- 
 ness of passion which death itself could hardly subdue. 
 *' Mourn not for me," he said faintly, '* but care for your 
 own safety. I die in mine armor as a Douglas should, and 
 I die pitied by Mary Stuart ! " 
 
 He expired with these words, and without withdrawing 
 his eyes from her face ; and the Queen, whose heart was of 
 that soft and gentle mold which in domestic life, and with 
 a more suitable partner than Darnley, might have made her 
 happy, remained weeping by the dead man, until recalled to 
 herself by the abbot, who found it necessary to use a style 
 of unusual remonstrance. "We also, madam," he said — 
 " we, your Grace's devoted followers, have friends and rela- 
 tives to weep for. I leave a brother in imminent jeopardy — 
 the husband of the Lady Fleming — the father and brother 
 of the Lady Catherine, are all in yonder bloody field, slain, 
 it is to be feared, or prisoners. We forget the fate of our 
 
412 Wa Vebley ifoVisLS 
 
 own nearest and dearest to wait on our Queen, and she is too 
 much occupied with her own sorrows to give one thought to 
 ours/' 
 
 *'I deserve not your reproach, father," said the Queen, 
 checking her tears ; *' but I am docile to it. Where must 
 we go ? what must we do ? '* 
 
 " We must fly, and that instantly," said the abbot ; 
 " whither is not so easily answered, but we may dispute it 
 upon the road. Lift her to her saddle, and set forward.''* 
 
 They set off accordingly. Koland lingered a moment to 
 command the attendants of the Knight of Avenel to convey 
 their master to the Castle of Crookstone, and to say that he 
 demanded from him no other condition of liberty than his 
 word that he and his followers would keep secret the direc- 
 tion in which the Queen fled. As he turned his rein to de- 
 part, the honest countenance of Adam Woodcock stared upon 
 him with an expression of surprise which, at another time, 
 would have excited his hearty mirth. He had been one c' 
 the followers who had experienced the weight of Roland a 
 arm, and they now knew each other, Roland having put up 
 his visor, and the good yeoman having thrown away his 
 barret-cap, with the iron bars in front, that he might the 
 more readily assist his master. Into this barret-cap, as it 
 lay on the ground, Roland forgot not to drop a few gold 
 pieces (fruits of the Queen's liberality), and with a signal of 
 kind recollection and enduring friendship, he departed at 
 full gallop to overtake the Queen, the dust raised by her 
 train being already far down the hill. 
 
 " It is not fairy money," said honest Adam, weighing and 
 handling the gold. ''And it was Master Roland himself, 
 that is a certain thing. ' The same open hand, and by Our 
 Lady ! (shrugging his shoulders) the same ready fist ! My 
 lady will hear of this gladly, for she mourns for him as if he 
 were her son. And to see how gay he is ! But these light 
 lads are as sure to be uppermost as the froth to be on the 
 top of the quart-pot. Your man of solid parts remains ever 
 a falconer. So saying, he went to aid his comrades, who 
 had now come up in greater numbers, to ; carry his master 
 into the Castle of Crookstone. 
 
 • See Battle of Langside. Note 27. 
 
CHAPTEK XXXVIII 
 
 My native land, good-night I 
 
 Byron. 
 
 .Many a bitter tear was shed during the hasty flight of Queei» 
 'Mary, over fallen hopes, future prospects, and slaughtered 
 friends. The deaths of the brave Douglas and of the fiery 
 but gallant young Seyton seemed to affect the Queen as 
 much as the fall from the throne, on which she had so nearly 
 been again seated. Catherine Seyton devoured in secret her 
 own grief, anxious to support the broken spirits of her mis- 
 tress ; and the abbot, bending his troubled thoughts upon 
 futurity, endeavored in vain to form some plan which had a 
 shadow of hope. The spirit of young Koland — for he also 
 mingled in the hasty debates held by the companions of the 
 Queen's flight — continued unchecked and unbroken. 
 
 '* Your Majesty," he said, ^* has lost a battle. Your an- 
 cestor Bruce lost seven successively, ere he sat triumphant 
 on the Scottish throne, and proclaimed with the voice of a 
 victor, in the field of Bannockburn, the independence of his 
 pountry. Are not these heaths, which we may traverse 
 at will, better than the locked, guarded, and lake-moated 
 Castle of Lochleven ? We are free ; in that one word there 
 is comfort for all our losses." 
 
 He struck a bold note, but the heart of Mary made no 
 response. 
 
 , ''Better," she said, "I had still been in Lochleven than 
 .seen the slaughter made by rebels among the subjects who 
 offered themselves to death for my sake. Speak not to me 
 .pf further efforts ; they would only cost the lives of you, the 
 friends who recommend them ! I would not again undergo 
 what I felt when I saw from yonder mount the swords of the 
 fell horsemen of Morton raging among the faithful Seytons 
 and Hamiltons, for their loyalty to their Queen ; I would not 
 again feel what I felt when Douglas's life-blood stained my 
 mantle for his love to Mary Stuart — not to be empress of all 
 that Britain's seas inclose. Find for me some place where I 
 can hide my unhappy head, which brings destruction on all 
 
 413 
 
414 WAVERLET NOVELS 
 
 who love it ; it is the last favor that Mary asks of her faith- 
 ful followers." 
 
 In this dejected mood, hnt still pursuing her flight with 
 unahated rapidity, the unfortunate Mary, after having been 
 joined by Lord Herries and a few followers, at length halted, 
 for the first time, at the Abbey of Dundrennan, nearly sixty 
 miles distant from the field of battle. In this remote corner 
 of Galloway, the reformation not having yet been strictly en- 
 forced against the monks, a few still lingered in their cells 
 unmolested ; and the prior, with tears and reverence, 
 received the fugitive Queen at the gate of his convent. 
 
 " I bring you ruin, my good father," said the Queen, as 
 she was lifted from her palfrey. 
 
 ** It is welcome," said the prior, " if it comes in the train 
 of duty." 
 
 Placed on the ground, and supported by her ladies, the 
 Queen looked for an instant at her palfrey, which, jaded and 
 drooping its head, seemed as if it mourned the distresses of 
 its mistress. 
 
 *' Good Roland," said the Queen, whispering, 'Met Rosa- 
 belle be cared for : ask thy heart, and it will tell thee why I 
 make this trifling request even in this awful hour." 
 
 She was conducted to her apartment, and in the hurried 
 consultation of her attendants the fatal resolution of the 
 retreat to England was finally adopted. In the morning it 
 received her approbation, and a messenger was despatched to 
 the English warden, to pray him for safe conduct and hos- 
 pitality, on the part of the Queen of Scotland. On the next 
 day, the Abbot Ambrose walked in the garden of the abbey 
 with Roland, to whom he expressed his disapprobation of the 
 course pursued. * ' It is mad ness and ruin," he said : "better 
 commit herself to the savage Highlanders or wild Bordermen 
 than to the faith of Elizabeth. A woman to a rival woman 
 a presumptive successor to the keeping of a jealous and 
 — childless queen ! Roland, Herries is true and loyal, but 
 his counsel has ruined his mistress." 
 
 " Ay, ruin follows us everywhere," said an old man, with 
 a spade in his hand, and dressed like a lay-brother, of whose 
 presence, in the vehemence of his exclamation, the abbot 
 had not been aware. " Gaze not on me with such wonder ! 
 I am he who was the Abbot Boniface at Kennaquhair, who 
 was the gardener Blinkhoolie at Lochleven, hunted round to 
 the place in which I served my noviciate, and now ye are 
 come to rouse me up again ! A weary life I have had, for 
 one to whom peace was ever the dearest blessing ! " 
 
THE ABBOT 4U 
 
 " We will soon rid you of our company, good father," said 
 the abbot ; ** and the Queen will, I fear, trouble your retreat 
 no more." 
 
 '' Nay, you said as much before," said the querulous old 
 man, ''and yet I was put forth from Kinross, and pillaged 
 by troopers on the road. They took from me the certificate 
 that you wot of — that of the baron ; ay, he was a moss-trooper 
 like themselves. You asked me of it, and I could never find 
 it, but they found it ; it showed the marriage of — of — my 
 memory fails me. Now see how men differ ! Father Nico- 
 las would have told you an hundred tales of the Abbot Ingel- 
 ram, on whose soul God have mercy ! He was, I warrant 
 you, fourscore and six, and I am not more than — let me 
 see " 
 
 " Was not ' Avenel ' the name you seek, my good father ?" 
 said Roland, impatiently, yet moderating his tone for fear of 
 alarming or offending the infirm old man. 
 
 " Ay, right — Avenel — Julian Avenel. You are perfect in 
 the name. I kept all the special confessions, judging it held 
 with my vow to do so. I could not find it when my succes- 
 sor, Ambrosius, spoke on't ; but the troopers found it, and 
 the knight who commanded the party struck his breast till 
 his hauberk clattered like an empty watering-can." 
 
 "St. Mary! "said the abbot, "in whom could such a 
 paper excite such interest ? What was the appearance of 
 the knight, his arms, his colors ? " 
 
 " Ye distract me with your questions. I dared hardly 
 look at him ; they charged me with bearing letters for the 
 Queen, and searched my mail. This was all along of your 
 doings at Lochleven." 
 
 " I trust in God," said the abbot to Roland, who stood 
 beside him, shivering and trembling with impatience, "the 
 
 gaper has fallen into the hands of my brother. I heard he 
 ad been with his followers on the scout betwixt Stirling and 
 Glasgow. Bore not the knight a holly-bough in his helmet ? 
 Canst thou not remember ? " 
 
 "0, remember — remember," said the old man, pettishly ; 
 " count as many years as I do, if your plots will let you, and 
 see what, and how much, you remember. Why, I scarce 
 remember the pearmains which I graffed here with my own 
 hands some fifty years since." 
 
 At this moment a bugle sounded loudly from the beach. 
 
 "It is the death-blast to Queen Mary's royalty ! " said 
 Ambrosius : " the English warden's answer has been received 
 —•favorable, doubtlen, for when was the door of the trap 
 
ild WAVEBLEY NOVELS 
 
 closed against the prey which it was set for ? Droop not, 
 Roland, this matter shall be shifted to the bottom ; but we 
 must not now leave the Queen. Follow me ; let us do our 
 duty, and trust the issue with God. Farewell, good father ; 
 I will visit thee again soon.'' 
 
 He was about to leave the garden, followed by Roland, 
 with half -reluctant steps. The ex-abbot resumed his spade. 
 
 *' I could be sorry for these men," he said, ^' ay, and for 
 that poor queen, but what avail earthly sorrows to a man of 
 fourscore ? and it is a rare dropping morning for the early 
 colewort.'* 
 
 *^ He is stricken with age,'' said Ambrosius, as he dragged 
 Roland down to the sea-beach ; *' we must let him take his 
 time to collect himself. Nothing now can be thought on but 
 the fate of the Queen." 
 
 They soon arrived where she stood, surrounded by her 
 little train, and by her side the sheriff of Cumberland, a 
 gentleman of the house of Lowther, richly dressed, and ac- 
 companied by soldiers. The aspect of the Queen exhibited 
 a singular mixture of alacrity and reluctance to depart. Her 
 language and gestures spoke hope and consolation to her 
 attendants, and she seemed desirous to persuade even herself 
 that the step she adopted was secure, and that the assurance 
 she had received of kind reception was altogether satisfac- 
 tory ; but her quivering lip and unsettled eye betrayed at 
 once her anguish at departing from Scotland and her fears 
 of confiding herself to the doubtful faith of England. 
 
 '' Welcome, my lord abbot," she said, speaking to Ambro- 
 sius, ** and you, Roland Avenel, we have joyful news for you : 
 our loving sister's officer proffers us, in her name, a safe 
 asylum from the rebels who have driven us from our own ; 
 only it grieves me we must here part from you for a short 
 space." 
 
 " Part from us, madam ! " said the abbot. " Is your wel- 
 come in England, then, to commence with the abridgement 
 of your train and dismissal of your counselors ? " 
 
 ** Take it not thus, good father," said Mary ; '^ the warden 
 and the sheriff, faithful servants of our royal sister, deem it 
 necessary to obey her instructions in the present case, even 
 to the letter, and can only take upon them to admit me with 
 my female attendants. An express will instantly be des- 
 patched from London, assigning me a place of residence ; 
 and I will speedily send to all of you whenever my court shall 
 be formed." 
 . '* Your court formed in England I and while Elizabeth 
 
I 
 
 THE ABBOT 417 
 
 lives and reigns ?** said the abbot ; ''that will be when we 
 shall see two suns in one heaven ! '^ 
 
 '' Do not think so," replied the Queen ; ''we are well as- 
 sured of our sister's good faith. Elizabeth loves fame ; and 
 not all that she has won by her power and her wisdom will 
 equal that which she will acquire by extending her hospital- 
 ity to a distressed sister ; not all that she may hereafter do of 
 good, wise, and great, would blot out the reproach of abus- 
 ing our confidence. Farewell, my page — now my knight — 
 farewell for a brief season. I will dry the tears of Catherine, 
 or I will weep with her till neither of us can weep longer/' 
 She held out her hand to Eoland, who, flinging himself on 
 his knees, kissed it with much emotion. He was about to 
 render the same homage to Catherine, when the Queen, as- 
 suming an air of sprightliness, said, " Her lips thou foolish 
 boy ! and, Catherine, coy it not ; these English gentlemen 
 should see that, even in our cold clime, beauty knows how 
 to reward bravery and fidelity ! " 
 
 " We are not now to learn, the force of Scottish beauty> or 
 the mettle of Scottish valor,'' said the sheriff of Cumberland, 
 courteously. "I would it were in my power to bid these 
 attendants upon her who is herself the mistress of Scottish 
 beauty as welcome to England as my poor cares would make 
 them. But our Queen's orders are positive in case of such 
 an emergence, and they must not be disputed by her subject. 
 May I remind your Majesty that the tide ebbs fast ? " 
 
 The sheriff took the Queen's hand, and she had already 
 placed her foot on the gangway by which she was to enter 
 the skiff, when the abbot, starting from a trance of grief and 
 astonishment at the words of the sheriff, rushed into the 
 water, and seized upon her mantle. 
 
 " She foresaw it t— she foresaw it ! " he exclaimed — '' she 
 foresaw your flight into her realm ; and, foreseeing it, gave 
 orders you should be thus received. Blinded, deceived, 
 doomed princess ! your fate is sealed when you quit this strand. 
 Queen of Scotland thou shalt not leave thine heritage ! " he 
 continued, holding a still firmer grasp upon her mantle ; 
 " true men shall turn rebels to thy will, that they may save 
 thee from captivity or death. Fear not the bills and bows 
 whom that gay man has at his beck : we will withstand him 
 by force. 0, for the arm of my warlike brother ! Koland 
 Avenel, draw thy sword ! " 
 
 The Queen stood irresolute and frightened — one foot upon 
 the plank, the other on the sand of her native shore, which 
 ahe was quitting forever. »'^>ni azr. 
 
 «7 
 
418 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 " What needs this violence, sir priest ? " said the sheriff of 
 Cumberland. *' I came hither at your Queen's command, 
 to do her service ; and I will depart at her least order, if she re- 
 jects such aid as I can offer. No marvel is it if our Queen's 
 wisdom foresaw that such chance as this might happen amidst 
 the turmoils of yon unsettled state ; and, while willing to 
 afford fair hospitality to her royal sister, deemed it wise to 
 prohibit the entrance of a broken army of her followers into 
 the English frontier." 
 
 ** You hear," said Queen Mary, gently unloosing her robe 
 from the abbot's grasp, "that we exercise full liberty of 
 choice in leaving this shore ; and, questionless, the choice will 
 remain free to us in going to France, or returning to our 
 own dominions, as we shall determine. Besides, it is too late. 
 Your blessing, father, and God speed thee ! " 
 
 " May He have mercy on thee. Princess, and speed thee 
 also ! " said the abbot, retreating. *' But my soul tells me 1 
 look on thee for the last time ! " 
 
 The sails were hoisted, the oars were plied, the vessel went 
 freshly on her way through the firth, which divides the shores 
 of Cumberland from those of Galloway ; but not till the 
 vessel diminished to the size of a child's frigate did the doubt- 
 ful, and dejected, and dismissed followers of the Queen cease 
 to linger on the sands ; and long, long could they discern the 
 kerchief of Mary, as she waved the oft-repeated signal of 
 adieu to her faithful adherents and to the shores of Scotland. 
 
 If good tidings of a private nature could have consoled 
 Roland for parting with his mistress, and for the distresses 
 of his sovereign, he received such comfort some days subse- 
 quent to the Queen's leaving Dundrennan. A breathless 
 post — ^no other than Adam' Woodcock — brought despatches 
 from Sir Halbert Glendinning to the abbot, whom he found 
 with Roland, still residing at Dundrennan, and in vain tor- 
 turing Boniface with fresh interrogations. The packet bore 
 an earnest invitation to his brother to make Avenel Castle 
 for a time his residence. ** The clemency of the Regent," 
 said the writer, *' has extended pardon both to Roland and 
 to you, upon condition of your remaining a time under my 
 wardship. And I have that to communicate respecting the 
 parentage of Roland which not only you will willmgly listen 
 to, but which will be also found to afford me, as the husband 
 of his nearest relative, some interest in the future course of 
 hit life/' 
 
THE ABBOT 41Q 
 
 The abbot read this letter, and paused, as if considering 
 what were best for him to do. Meanwhile, Woodcock took 
 Eoland aside, and addressed him as follows : *' Now look. 
 Master Roland, that you do not let any Papistrie nonsense 
 lure either the priest or you from the right quarry. See you, 
 you ever bore yourself as a bit of a gentleman. Read that, 
 and thank God that threw old Abbot Boniface in our way, 
 as two of the Sey ton's men were conveying him towards 
 Dundrennan here. We searched him for intelligence con- 
 cerning that fair exploit of yours at Lochleven, that has cost 
 many a man his life, and me a set of sore bones, and we 
 found what is better for your purpose than ours." 
 
 The paper which he gave was, indeed, an attestation by 
 Father Philip, subscribing himself unworthy sacristan and 
 brother of the house of St. Mary's, stating, *' That under a 
 vow of secrecy he had united, in the holy sacrament of mar- 
 riage, Julian Avenel and Catherine Graeme ; but that Julian 
 having repented of his union, he. Father Philip, had been 
 sinfully prevailed on by him to conceal and disguise the same 
 according to a complot devised betwixt him and the said 
 Julian Avenel, whereby the poor damsel was induced to be- 
 lieve that the ceremony had been performed by one not in 
 holy orders, and having no authority to that effect ; which 
 sinful concealment the undersigned conceived to be the cause 
 why he was abandoned to the misguiding of a water fiend, 
 whereby he had been under a spell, which obliged him to 
 answer every question, even touching the most solemn mat- 
 ters, with idle snatches of old songs, besides being sorely 
 afflicted with rheumatic pains ever after. Wherefore he had 
 deposited this testificate and confession, with the day and 
 date of the said marriage, with his lawful superior, Boniface, 
 abbot of St. Mary's, suh sigillo confessionis." 
 
 It appeared by a letter from Julian, folded carefully up 
 with the certificate, that the Abbot Boniface had, in effect, 
 bestirred himself in the affair, and obtained from the baron 
 & promise to avow his marriage ; but the death of both Julian 
 and his injured bride, together with the abbot's resignation, 
 his ignorance of the fate of their unhappy offspring, and, 
 above all, the good father's listless and inactive disposition, 
 had suffered the matter to become totally forgotten, until it 
 was recalled by some accidental conversation with the Abbot 
 Ambrosius concerning the fortunes of the Avenel family. 
 At the request of his snccessor, the quondam abbot made 
 search for it ; but, as he would receive no assistance in look- 
 ing among the few records of spiritual experiences and im- 
 
42Q WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 portant conffessions which he had conscientiously treasnred, 
 it might have remained forever hidden amongst them but 
 for the more active researches of Sir Halbert Glendinning. 
 
 '* So that you are like to be heir of Avenel at last, Master 
 Roland, after my lord and lady have gone to their place," 
 said Adam ; '' and as I have but one boon to ask, I trust you 
 will not nick me with nay/' 
 
 . : ;5' .Not if it be in my power to say ' yes,' my trusty friend." 
 . j.f.f Why then, I must needs, if I live to see that day, keep 
 on feeding the eyases with unwashed flesh," said "Woodcock, 
 sturdily, yet as if doubting the reception that his request 
 might meet with. 
 
 *^ Thou shalt feed them with what you list for me," said 
 Roland, laughing ; '' I am not many months older than when 
 I left the castle, but I trust I have gathered wit enough to 
 cross no man of skill in his own vocation." 
 
 " Then I would not change places with the King's falco- 
 ner^" said Adam Woodcock, " nor with the Queen's neither; 
 but they say she will be mewed up, and never need one.; I 
 see it grieves you to think of it, and I could grieve for com- 
 pany ; but what help for it ? Fortune, will fly her own 
 flight, let a man halloo himself hoarse." 
 
 The abbot and Roland journeyed to, Avenel, where the 
 former was tenderly received by his brother, while the lady 
 wept for joy to find that in her favorite orphan she had pro- 
 tected the sole surviving branch of her own family. Sir 
 Halbert Glendinning and his household were not a little sur- 
 prised at the change which a brief acquaintance with the 
 world had produced in their former inmate, and ^-ejoiced to 
 find in the pettish, spoiled, and presuming page a modest 
 and unassuming young man, too much acquainted with his 
 own expectations and. character to. be hot or petulant in de- 
 manding the consideration' which was readily and voluntarily 
 yielded to him. The old major-domo Wingate was, the first 
 to sing his praises, to which Mrs. Lilias bore a loud echo, 
 always hoping that God would teach him the true Gospel. 
 
 To the true Gospel the heart of Roland had secretly long 
 inclined, and the departure of the good abbot for France, 
 with the purpose of entering into some house of his order in 
 that kingdom, removed his chief objection to renouncing the 
 Cotholic faith. Another might have existed in the duty 
 which he owed to Magdalen Graeme, both by birth and from 
 gratitude. But he learned, ere he had been long a resident 
 in Avenel, that his grandmother had died at Cologne, in the 
 performance of a penance too severe tqr her age, which she 
 
THE ABBOT 421 j 
 
 had taken upon herself in behalf of the Queen and Church 
 of Scotland, so soon as she heard of the defeat at Langside. 
 The zeal of the Abbot Ambrosius was more regulated ; but he 
 
 retired into the Scottish convent of- , and so lived there 
 
 that the fraternity were inclined to claim for him the honors 
 of canonisation. But he guessed their purpose, and prayed 
 them on his death-bed to do no honors to the body of one 
 as sinful as themselves ; but to send his body and his heart 
 to be buried in Avenel burial-aisle, in the Monastery of St. 
 Mary's, that the last abbot of that celebrated house of devo- 
 tion might sleep among its ruins.* 
 
 Long before that period arrived, Koland Avenel was wedded 
 to Catherine Seyton, who, after two years' residence with her 
 unhappy mistress, was dismissed, upon her being subjected 
 to closer restraint than had been at first exercised. She re- 
 turned to her father's house and as Koland was acknowledged 
 for the successor and lawful heir of the ancient house of 
 Avenel, greatly increased as the estate was by the providence 
 of Sir Halbert Glendinning, there occurred no objections to 
 the match on the part of her family. Her mother was re- 
 cently dead when she first entered the convent ; and her 
 father, in the unsettled times which followed Queen Mary's 
 flight to England, was not averse to an alliance with a youth 
 who, himself loyal to Queen Mary, still held some influence, 
 through means of Sir Halbert Glendinning, with the party 
 in power. 
 
 Eoland and Catherine, therefore, were united, spite of 
 their differing faiths ; and the White Lady, whose appari- 
 tion had been infrequent when the house of Avenel seemed 
 verging to extinction, was seen to sport by her haunted well, 
 with a zone of gold around her bosom as broad as the bal- 
 drick of an earl. 
 
 * See Burial of the Abbot's Heart in the Avenel Aisle. Note 28, 
 
KOTES TO THE ABBOT 
 
 Note 1.— Glendonwynk of Glkndonwynk, p. 26 
 
 Tms was a house of ancient descent and superior consequence, including per- 
 sons who fought at Bannockburn and Otterburu, and closely connected by alli- 
 ance and friendship with the great Earls of Douglas. The knight in the story 
 argues as most Scotsms . would do in his situation, for all of the same clan are 
 popularly considered as descended from the same stock, and as having a right 
 to the ancestral honor of the chief branch. This opinion, though sometimes 
 ideal, is so strong, even at this day of innovation, that it may be observed as a 
 national difference between ray countrymen and the English. If you ask an 
 Englishman of good birth whether a person of the same name be connected 
 with him, he answers, if in dubio, " No, he is a mere namesake." Ask a similar 
 
 auestion of a Scot— I mean a Scotsman— he replies, " He is one of our clan ; I 
 aresay there is a relationship, though I do not know how distant." The Eng- 
 lishman thinks of discountenancing a species of rivalry in Society ; the Scots 
 nuin's answer is grounded on the ancient idea of strengthening the cla». 
 
 Note 2.— Bao for Hawks' Meat, p. 64 
 
 This same bag, like everything belonging to falconry, was esteemed an honor- 
 able distinction, and worn often hy the nobility and gentry. One of the Somer- 
 villes of Camnethan was called Sir John with the Red Bag, because it was his 
 wont to wear his hawking-pouch covered with satin of that color. 
 
 Note 8.— Cell of St. Cuthbert, p. 68 
 
 I may here observe, that this is entirely an ideal scene. St. Cuthbert, a per 
 son of established sanctity, had, no doubt, several places of worship on the 
 Borders, where he flourished whilst living ; but Tilmouth Chapel is the only one 
 which bears some resemblance to the hermitage described in the text. It has, 
 indeed, a well, famous for gratifying three wishes for every worshiper who 
 shall quaff the fountain with sufficient belief in its efficacy. At this spot the 
 saint is said to have landed in his stone coffin, in which he sailed down the Tweed 
 from Melrose, and here the stone coffin long lay, in evidence of the fact. The 
 late Sir Francis Blake Delaval is said to have taken the exact measure of the 
 coffin, and to have ascertained, by hydrostatic principles, that it might have 
 «;tually swum. A profane farmer in the neighborhood announced his intention 
 of converting this last bed of the saint into a trough for his swine ; but the pro- 
 fanation was rendered impossible, either by the samt or by some pious votary in 
 his behalf, for on the following morning the stone sarcophagus was found broken 
 in two fragments. 
 
 Tilmouth Chapel, with these points of resemblance, lies, however, in exactly 
 the opposite direction as regards Melrose which the supposed cell of St. Cuth- 
 bert is said to have borne towards Kennaquhair. 
 
 Note 4.— Qoss-hawk, p. 81 
 
 The comparison is taken from some beautiful verses in an old ballad, entitled 
 " Fause Foodrage," published in the Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border. A de- 
 posed queen, to preserve her infant son from the traitors who have slain his 
 father, exchanges him with the female offspring of a faithful friend, and goe« 
 on to direct the education of the children, and the private signals by which tb« 
 parents are to hear news each of her own offspring. 
 
 423 
 
4a^ NOTES TO THE ABBOT 
 
 And ye maun learn my gay goss-hawk 
 
 Right weal to breast a steed ; 
 And 1 sail learn your turtle dow, 
 
 As weel to write and read. 
 
 And ye maun learn my gay goss-hawk 
 
 To wield both bow and brand ; 
 And 1 sail learn your turtle dow. 
 
 To lay gowd wi' her hand. 
 
 At kirk and market when we meet. 
 
 We'll dare make nae avowe, 
 But, "■ Dame, how does my gay goss-hawk f ** 
 
 "Madame, how does my dow ?" 
 
 Note 5.— Nunneey of St. Bridget, p. 101 
 
 This, like the cell of St. Cuthbert, is an imaginary scene; but I took one or 
 iwo ideas of the desolation of the interior from a story told me by my father. 
 In his youth— it may be near eighty years since, as he was born in 1729— he had 
 occasion to visit an old lady who resided in a Border castle of considerable re- 
 nown. Only one very limited portion of the extensive ruins sufficed for the ac- 
 commodation of the inmates, and my father, amused .himself by wandering 
 through the part that was untenanted. In a dining apartment, having a roof 
 riclily adorned with arches and drops, there was deposited a large stack of hay, 
 to. which calves were helping themselves from opposite sides. As my father 
 was scaling a dark, ruinous turnpike staircase, his greyhound ran up before 
 him, and probably was the means of saving his life, for the animal fell through 
 a trap-door, or aperture in the stair, thus warning the owner of the danger of 
 the ascent. As the dog continued howling from a great depth, my father got 
 the old butler, who alone knew most of the localities about the castle, to unlock 
 a sort of stable, in which Killbuck was found safe and sound, the place being 
 filled with the same commodity which littered the stalls of Augeas, and whicn 
 had rendered the dog's fall an easy one. 
 
 Note 6.— Nun of Kent, p. 106 
 
 A fanatic nun, called the Holy Maid of Kent, who pretended to the gift of proph- 
 ecy and power of miracles. Having denounced the doom of speedy death 
 against Henry VIII. for his marriage with Anne Bol'eyn, the prophetess was at- 
 tainted in Parliament, and executed, with her accomplices. Her imposture wag 
 for a time so successful that even Sir Thomas More was disposed to be a believer 
 
 Note 7.— Hunting Mass, p. 114 
 
 In Catholic countries, in order to reconcile the pleasures of the great with the 
 observances of religion, it was common, when a party was bent for the chase, to 
 celebrate mass, abridged and maimed of its rites, called a hunting mass, the 
 brevity of which was designed to correspond with the impatience of the audi- 
 ence. 
 
 Note 8.— Abbot of Unreason, p. 116. 
 
 We learn, from no less authority than that of Napoleon Bonaparte, that there 
 is but a single step between the sublime and ridiculous ; and it is a transition 
 from one extreme to another so very easy that the vulgar of every degree are 
 peculiarly captivated with it. Thus the inclination to laUgh becomes uncon- 
 trollable when the solemnity and gravity of time, place, and circumstances ren- 
 der it peculiarly improper. Some species of general license, like that which 
 inspired the ancient Saturnalia, or the modern Carnival, has been commonly 
 indulged to the people at all times, and in almost all countries. But it was, I 
 think, peculiar to the Roman Catholic Church that, while they studied how to 
 render their church rites imposing and magnificent, by all that pomp, music, 
 architecture, and external display could add to them, they nevertheless con- 
 nived, upon special occasions, at the frolics of the rude vulgar, who, in almost 
 all Catholic countries, enjoyed, or at least assumed, the privilege of making 
 some lord of the revels, who, under the name of the Abbot of Unreason, the 
 Boy Bishop, or the President of Fools, occupied the churches, profaned the holy 
 
 g laces by a mock imitation of the sacred rites, and sung indecent parodies on 
 ymns of the church. The indifference of the clergy, even when their powef 
 WMgreateat, to the indecent exhibitions which they always tolerated, andsona^ 
 
If^OTES TO THE ABBOT 42o 
 
 times encouraged, forms a strong contrast to the sensitiveness with which they 
 regarded any serious attempt, by preaching or writing, to impeach any of the 
 doctrines of the church. It could only be compared to the singular apathy 
 with which they endured, and often admired, the gross novels which Chaucer, 
 Dunbar, Boccaccio, Bandello, and others composed upon the bad morals of the 
 clergy. It seems as if the churchmen in both instances had endeavored to 
 compromise with the laity, and allowed them occasionallyto gratify their coarse 
 humor by indecent satire, provided they would abstain from any grave questioii 
 concerning the foundation of the doctrines on which was erected such an Im- 
 mense fabric of ecclesiastical power. 
 
 But the sports thus licensed assumed a very different appearance so soon as 
 the Protestant doctrines began to prevail ; and the license which their fore- 
 lathers had exercised in mere gaiety of heart, and without the least intention of 
 dishonoring religion by their frolics, was now persevered in by the common 
 people as a mode of testifying their utter disregard for the Roman priesthood 
 and its ceremonies. 
 
 I may observe, for example, the case of an apparitor sent to Borthwick from 
 the Primate of St. Andrews, to cite the lord of that castle, who was opposed by 
 an Abbot of Unreason, at whose command the officer of the spiritual court was 
 appointed to be ducked in a mill-dam, and obliged to eat up his parchment 
 citation. 
 
 The reader may be amused with the following whimsical details of this inci- 
 dent, which took place in the castle of Borthwick, in the year 1547. It appears 
 that, in consequence of a process betwixt Master George Hay de Minzeane and 
 the Lord Borthwick, letters of excommunication had passed against the latter, 
 on account of the contumacy of certain witnesses. William Langlands, an ap- 
 paritor or macer (bacularius) of the see of St, Andrews, presented these letters 
 to the curate of the church of Borthwick, requiring him to publish the same at 
 the service of high mass. It seems that the inhabitants of the castle were at 
 this time engaged in the favorite sport of enacting the Abbot of Unreason, a 
 species of high jinks, in which a mimic prelate was elected, who, like the Lord 
 of Misrule in England, turned all sort of lawful authority, and particularly the 
 church ritual, into ridicule. This frolicsome person, with his retinue, notwith- 
 standing of the apparitor's character, entered the church, seized lypon the 
 Primate's officer without hesitation, and, dragging him to the mill-dam on the 
 south side of the castle, compelled him to leap into the water. Not contented 
 with this partial immersion, the Abbot of Unreason pronounced that Mr. Wil- 
 liam Langiands was not yet sufficiently bathed, and therefore caused his assist- 
 ants to lay him on his back in the stream, and duck him in the most satisfactory 
 and perfect manner. The unfortunate apparitor was then conducted back to 
 the church, where, for his refreshment after his bath, the letters of excommuni- 
 cation were torn to pieces, and steeped in a bowl of wine ; the mock abbot being 
 probably of opinion that a tough parchment was but dry eating, Langlands was 
 compelled to eat the letters and swallow the wine, and dismissed by the Abbot of 
 Unreason, with the comfortable assurance that, if any more such letters should 
 arrive during the continuance of his office, " they should a' gang the same gate," 
 i.e. go the same road. 
 
 A similar scene occurs betwixt a sumner of the Bishop of Rochester and Har- 
 
 Bool, the servant of Lord Cobham, in the old play of Sir John Oldcastle, whem 
 le former compels the church-officer to eat his citation. The dialogue contains 
 most of the jests which may be supposed appropriate to such an extraordinary 
 occasion. 
 
 Harpool. Marry, sir, is this process parchment t 
 
 Sumner. Yes, marry is it. 
 
 Harpool, And this seal wax ? 
 
 Biimner. It is so. 
 
 Harpool. If this be parchment, and this be wax, eat you this parchment and 
 wax, or I will make parchment of your skin, and beat your brains Into wax. 
 Sirrah Sumner, despatch — devour, sirrah, devour. 
 
 Sumner. I am my Lord of Rochester's sumner ; I came to do my office, and 
 thou Shalt answer it. 
 
 Harpool. Sirrah, no railing, but betake thyself to thy teeth. Thou shalt eat 
 no worse than thou bringest with thee. Thou bringest it for my lord ; and wilt 
 thou bring my lord worse than thou wilt eat thyself ? 
 
 Sumner. Sir, I brought it not my lord to eat. 
 
 Harpool. O, do you Sir me now ? All's one for that ; I'll make you eat it for 
 bringing it. 
 . Sumner. I cannot eat it, 
 
 Harpool. Can you not? 'Sblood, I'll beat you till you have a stomach: 
 {B^ats him.] 
 
 Sumner. Oh, hold, hold, good Mr. Serving-man ; I will eat it. 
 
426 NOTES TO THE ABBOT 
 
 Harpool. Be champing, be chewing, sir, or I will chew you, you rogu«. Tough 
 wax is the purest of the honey. 
 
 Sumner. The purest of the honey ! O Lord, sir 1 oh I oh 1 
 
 Harpool. Feed, feed ; 'tis wholesome, rogue— wholesome. Cannot you, like 
 an honest sumner, walk with the devil your brother, to fetch in your bailiff's 
 rents, but you must come to a nobleman's house with process ? If the seal were 
 as broad as the lead which covers Rochester Church, thou shouldst eat it. 
 
 Sumner. Oh, I am almost choked— I am almost choked 1 
 
 Harpool. Who's within there ? will you shame my lord ? is there no beer in 
 the house ? Butler, I say. 
 
 Enter Butlbr. 
 
 Butler. Here— here. 
 
 Harpool. Give him beer. Tough old sheep-skin's but dry meat. 
 
 First Part of Sir John Oldcastle, Act IL Scene 1. 
 
 Note 9.— The Hobbt-horse, p. 117 
 
 This exhibition, the play-mare of Scotland, stood high among holyday gam- 
 bols. It must be carefully separated from the wooden chargers which furnish 
 out our nurseries. It gives rise to Hamlet's ejaculation — 
 
 But oh, but oh, the hobby-horse is forgot I 
 
 There is a very comic scene in Beaumont and Fletcher's play of Women Pleased, 
 where Hope-on-high Bomby, a Puritan cobbler, refuses to dance with the hobby- 
 horse. There was much difficulty and great variety in the motions which the 
 hobby-horse was expected to exhibit. 
 
 The learned Mr. Douce, who has contributed so much to the illustration of our 
 theatrical antiquities, has given us a full account of this pageant, and the bur- 
 lesque horsemanship which it practised. 
 
 " The hobby-horse," says Mr. Douce, " was represented by a man equipped 
 with as nmch pasteboard as was sufficient to form the head and hinder parts of 
 a horse, the quadru pedal defects being concealed by a long mantle or foot-cloth 
 that nearly touched the ground. The performer, on this occasion, exerted all 
 his skill in burlesque horsemanship. In Sampson's play of the Vow-breaker, 1636, 
 a miller personates the hobby-horse, and being angry that the mayor of the city 
 is put in competition with him, exclaims, " Let the major [mayor] play the 
 hobby-horse among his brethren, an he will ; I hope our town-lads cannot want 
 a hobby-horse. Have I practised my reins, my careers, my pranckers, my ambles, 
 my false trots, my smooth ambles, and Canterbury paces, and shall master major 
 
 Eut me besides the hobby-horse ? Have I borrowed the forehorse bells, his plumes, 
 is braveries ; nay, had his mane new shorn and frizzled, and shall the major put 
 me besides the hobby-horse " ' — Douce's Illustrations, vol. ii. p. 468. 
 
 Note 10. — Representation op Robin Hood and Little John, p. 118 
 
 The representation of Robin Hood was the darling May-game both in England 
 and Scotland, and doubtless the favorite personification was often revived, when 
 the Abbot of Unreason, or other pretenses of frolic, gave an unusual degree of 
 license. » 
 
 The Protestant clergy, who had formerly reaped advantage from the oppor- 
 tunities which these sports afforded them of directing their own satire and the 
 ridicule of the lower orders against the Catholic Church, began to find that 
 when these purposes were served, their favorite pastimes deprived them of the 
 wish to attend divine worship, and disturbed the frame of mind in which it can 
 be attended to advantage. The celebrated Bishop Latimer gives a very naive 
 account of the manner in which, bishop as he was, he found himself compelled 
 to give place to Robin Hood and his followers. 
 
 " I came once myselfe to a place riding on a journey homeward from London, 
 and I sent word over night into the towne that I would preach there in the morn- 
 ing, because it was holiday, and methought it was a holidayes worke. The church 
 gtood in my way, and I tooke my horse and my company, and went thither (I 
 thought I should have found a great company in the church), and when I came 
 there the church doore was fast locked. I tarryed there halfe an houre and 
 more. At last the key was found, and one of the parish comes to me, and says, 
 " Sir, this is a busle day with us, we cannot heare you ; it is Robin Hood's day. 
 The parish are gone abroad to gather for Robin Hood. I pray you let them not." 
 I was faine there to give place to Robin Hood. I thought my rochet should have 
 been regarded though I was not but it would not serve, it was faine to give place 
 to Robin Hood's men. It is no laughing matter, my friends ; it is weeping matter, 
 a heavy matter— a heavy matter. Under the pretense for gathering for Kobia 
 
NOTES TO THE ABBOT 4'21 
 
 Hood, a traytour and a theafe, to put out a preacher, to have his office lease 
 esteemed, to preferre Robin Hood before the ministration of God's Word ; and 
 all this hath come of unpreaching prelates. This realme hath been ill provided 
 for, that it hath had sucn corrupt judgments in it, to preferre Robin Hood to 
 God's Word." — Bishop Latimer'' s Sixth Sermon before King Edward VI. 
 While the English Protestants thus preferred the outlaw's pageant to the 
 
 g reaching of their excellent bishop, the Scottish Calvinistic clergy, with the cele- 
 rated John Knox at their head, and backed by the authority of the magistrates 
 of Edinburgh, who had of late been chosen exclusively from this party, found it 
 impossible to control the rage of the populace, when they attempted to deprive 
 them of the privilege of presenting their pageant of Robin Hood. 
 
 (1561). "Vponthe xxi day of Julij Archibalde Dowglas of Kilspindie, Provest 
 of Edr., David Symmer and Adame FuUartoun, bailies of the samyne, causit ana 
 cordinare servant, callit James Gillioun [or Killone], takin of befoir, for playing 
 in Edr. with Robene Hude, to wnderly the law, and put him to the knawlege of 
 ane assyize, qlk yaij haid electit of yair f avoraris, quha with schort deliberatioun 
 condemnit hmi to be hangit for ye said cryme. And the deaconis of ye craftis- 
 man, fearing vproare, maid great solistatiouns at ye handis of ye said provest 
 and baillies, and als requirit John Knox, minister, for eschewing of tumult, to 
 superceid ye executioun of him, vnto ye tyme yai suld adverteis my Lord Duke 
 yairof. And yan, if it wes his mynd and will yat he should be disponit vpoun, ye 
 said deaconis and craftisman sould convey him yaire ; quha answerit, yat yai 
 culd na way stope ye executioun of justice. Quhan ye time of ye said pouer mans 
 hanging approchit, and yat he hangman wes cum to ye jibbat with ye ledder, 
 vpoune ye qlk ye said cordinare should have bene hangit, ane certaine and rem- 
 anent craftischilder, quha wes j)ut to ye home with ye said Gillione, flfor ye said 
 Robene Hiude's pZaj/es, and vyris yair assistaris and favoraris, past to wappinis, 
 and yai brak down ye said jibbat, and yan chacit ye said provest, baillies, and 
 Alexr. Guthrie, in ye said Alexander's writing-buith, and held yame yairin ; and 
 yairefter past to ye tolbuyt, and becaus the samyne was steikit, and onnawayes 
 culd get the keyes thairof , thai brake the said tolbuith dore with f oure hamberis 
 per force (the said provest and baillies luikand thairon), and not onlie put thar 
 the said Gillone to f redome and libertie, and brocht him f urth of the said tolbuit, 
 bot alsua the remanent presonaris being thairintill. And this done, the said 
 craftismen's servands, with the said condempnit cordonar, past doun to the 
 Nethirbow, to have past furth thairit ; bot becaus the samyne on thair coming 
 thairto wes closit, thai past vp agane the Hie Streit of the said bourghe to the 
 Castell hill, and in this menetyme the saidis provest and baillies and thair assist- 
 aris being in the writting-buith of the said Alexr. Guthrie, past and enterit in the 
 said tolbuyt, and in the said servandis passage vp the Hie Streit, then schote 
 furth thairof at thame ane dog, and hvrt ane servand of the said childer. This 
 being done, thair wes nathing vthir but the one partie schuteand out and castand 
 stanis furth of the said tolbuyt, and the vther pairtie schuteand hagbuttis in the 
 same agane. And sua the craftismen's servandis, abone written, held and inclosit 
 the said provest and baillies continewallie in the said tolbuyth, frae three houris 
 ef ternone quhil aught houris at even, and na man of the said town preusit [sterit] 
 to relieve thair said provest and bailies. And than thai send to the maist-ers of 
 the Castell [craftismen], to caus tham if thai mycht stay the said servandis, quha 
 maid ane maner to doe the same, bot thai could not bring the same to ane flnall 
 end, flfor the said servand wold on nowayes stay fra, quhill thai had revengit the 
 hurting of ane of them ; and thairefter the constable of the Castell come down 
 thairfra. and he with the said maisters treatit betwix the said pties in this maner : 
 —That the said provest and baillies sail reniit [discharge] to the said craftischilder 
 all actioun, crvme, and oflfens that thai had committit aganes thame m any tyme 
 bygane; and band oblast thame nevir to pussew them thairfor ; and als com- 
 mandit thair maisters to resaue them agane in thair services, as thai did befoir. 
 And this being proclamit at the mercat crow, thai scalit, and the said provest and 
 baillies come furth of the same tolbuyth," etc. etc. etc. 
 
 John Knox, who writes at large upon this tumult, informs us it was inflamed 
 by the deacons of crafts, who, resenting the superiority assumed over them by 
 the magistrates, would yield no assistance to put down the tumult. ' They will 
 be magistrates alone," said the recusant deacons, "e'en let them rule the popu- 
 lace alone " ; and accordingly they passed quietly to take their " four-hours 
 penny," and left the magistrates to help themselves as they could. Many persons 
 were excommunicated for this outrage, and not admitted to church ordinances 
 till they had made satisfaction. 
 
 Note 11.— "The Paip, that Pagan," p. 128 
 
 These rude rhymes are taken, with trifling alterations, from a ballad called 
 "Trim-go-trix." It occurs in a singular collection, entitled Ane Compendious 
 
428 NOTES TO THE ABBOT 
 
 Booke of Godly and Spirituall Songs, CoUectit out of Sundrie Parts of the Serin, 
 ture, with Sundrie of other Ballates Changed out of Prophaine Sanges, for 
 Avoyding of Sinne and Harlotrie, with Augmentation of Sundrie Gude and Godly 
 Ballates. Edinburgh, printed by Andro Hart. This curious collection has been 
 reprinted in Mr. John Graham Dalyell's Scottish Poems of the 16th Century. 
 Edin. 1801. 
 
 Note 12.— Inability of Evil Spirits to enter a House uninvited, p. 144 
 
 There is a popular belief respecting evil spirits, that they cannot enter an in- 
 habited house unless invited, nay, dragged over the threshold. There is an in- 
 stance of the same superstition in the Tales of the Genii, where an enchanter is 
 supposed to have intruded himself into the divan of the sultan. 
 
 " ' Thus,' said the illustrious Misnar, ' let the enemies of Mahomet be dis- 
 mayed ! but inform me, O ye sages ! under the semblance of which of your 
 brethren did that foul enchanter gain admittance here ? ' ' May the lord of my 
 heart,' answered Bahilu, the hermit of the faithful from Queda,' triumph over 
 all his foes I As I travelled on the mountains fi-om Queda, and saw neither the 
 footsteps of beasts, nor the flights of birds, behold, I chanced to pass through a 
 cavern, in whose hollow sides I found this accursed sage, to whom I unfolded the 
 invitation of the Sultan of India, and we, joining, journeyed toward the divan ; 
 but ere we entered, he said unto me, ' Put thy hand forth, and pull me toward 
 thee into the divan, calling on the name of Mahomet, for the evil spirits are on 
 me, and vex me.' " 
 
 I have understood that many parts of these fine tales, and in particular that of 
 the Sultan Misnar, were taken from genuine Oriental sources by the edik)r, Mr. 
 James Ridley. 
 
 But the most picturesque use of this popular belief occurs in Coleridge's beau- 
 tiful and tantalizing fragment of Christabel. Has not our own imaginative poet 
 cause to fear that future ages will desire to summon him from his place of rest, 
 as Milton longed 
 
 To call up him, who left half told 
 The story of Cambuscan bold ? 
 
 The verses I refer to are when Christabel conducts into her father's castle a mys- 
 terious and malevolent being, under the guise of a distressed female strhE^er 
 
 They cross'd the moat, and Christabel 
 
 Took the key that fitted well ; 
 
 A little door she open'd straight. 
 
 All in the middle of the gate ; 
 
 The gate that was iron'd within and without. 
 
 Where an army in battle array had march'd out. 
 
 The lady sank, belike thro' pain, 
 And Christabel with might and main 
 Lifted her up, a weary weight, 
 Over the threshold of the gate : 
 Then the lady rose again. 
 And moved as she were not in pain. 
 
 So free from danger, free from fear, 
 
 They cross'd the court :— right glad they were. 
 
 And Christabel devoutly cried 
 
 To the lady by her side : 
 
 *' Praise we the Virgin, all divine. 
 
 Who hath rescued thee from thy distress."' 
 
 "Alas, alas ! " said Geraldine, 
 
 " I cannot speak for weariness." 
 
 So free from danger, free from fear, 
 
 Thay cross'd the court :— right glad they were. 
 
 Note 13.— Seyton, or Seton, p. 161 
 
 George, fifth Lord Seyton, was immovably faithful to Queen Mary during all 
 the mutabilities of her fortune. He was grand master of the household, in which 
 capacity he had a picture painted of himself with his official baton, and the fol- 
 lowing motto ; 
 
 In adversitate patiens : 
 
 In prosperitate benevolus. 
 
 BUward, yet forward. 
 
NOTES TO THE ABBOT 429 
 
 On various parts of his castle he inscribed, as expressing Lis religious and 
 
 political creed, the legend 
 
 Un Diku, UN FoY, UN Roy, un Loy. 
 
 He declined to be promoted to an earldom, which Queen Mary offered him at 
 the same time when she advanced her natural brother to be Earl of Mar, and 
 afterwards of Murray. 
 
 On his refusing this honor, Mary wrote, or caused to be written, the following 
 lines in Latin and French : — 
 
 Sunt comites; ducesque alii, sunt denique reges ; 
 Sethoni dominum sit satis esse mihi. 
 
 C' 
 
 a des comptes, des roys, des dues ; ainsi 
 
 est assez pour moy d'estre Seigneur de Seton. 
 
 Which may be thus rendered :— 
 
 Earl ,duke, or king, be thou that list to be ; 
 Seton, thy lordship is enough for me. 
 
 This distich reminds us of the " pride which aped humility " in the motto of the 
 house ^}t Couci : 
 
 Je suis ni roy, ni prince aussi ; 
 Je suis le Seigneur de Coucy. 
 
 After the battle of Langside, Lord Seton was obliged to retire abroad for safety, 
 and was an exile for two years, during which he was i-educed to the necessity of 
 driving a wagon in Flanders for his subsistence. He rose to favor in James VI. 's 
 reign, and resuming his paternal property, had hii :self painted in his wagoner's 
 dress, and in the act of driving a wain with four horses, on the north end of a 
 stately gallery at Seton Castle. He appears to have been fond of the arts ; for 
 there exists a beautiful family-piece of him in the center of his family. Mr. 
 Pinkerton, in his Scottish Iconographia [1797], published an engraving of this 
 curious portrait. The original is the property of Lord Somerville, nearly con- 
 nected with the Seton family, and is at present at his lordship's flshing-villa of 
 the Pavilion, near Melrose. 
 
 Note 14.— Fanfarona, p. 162 
 
 A name given to the gold chains worn by the military men of the period. It is 
 of Spanish origin ; for the fashion of wearing these costly ornaments was much 
 followed amongst the conquerors of the New World. 
 
 Note 15.— Maiden of Morton, p. 167 
 
 A species of guillotine which the Regent Morton brought down from Halifax,, 
 certainly at a period considerably later than intimated in the tale. He was him^ 
 self the first that suffered by the engine.— 
 
 This instrument, which is preserved in the Antiquarian Museum of Edinburgh, 
 was brought to Scotland several years earlier than popular tradition assigns, and 
 is said to have been used for the execution of criminals about twenty years be- 
 fore the Earl of Morton was beheaded, in 1582 (Laing). 
 
 Note 16.— The Resignation of Queen Mary, p. 236 
 
 The details of this remarkable event are, as given in chapter xxii., imaginary ; 
 but the outline of the events is historical. Sir Robert Lindesay [Melville], brother 
 to the author of the Memoirs, was at first entrusted with the delicate commission 
 of persuading the imprisoned Queen to resign her crown. As he flatly refused 
 to interfere, they determined to send the Lord Lindesay, one of the rudest and 
 most violent of their own faction, with instructions, first' to use fair persuasions, 
 and if these did not succeed, to enter into harder terms. Knox associates Lord 
 Ruthven with Lindesay in this alarming commission. He was the son of that 
 Lord Ruthven who was prime agent in the murder of Rizzio ; and little mercy 
 was to be expected from his conjunction with Lindesay. 
 
 The employment of such rude tools argued a resolution on the part of those 
 who had the Queen's person in their power to proceed to the utmost extremities, 
 should they find Mary obstinate. To avoid this pressing danger. Sir Robert Mel- 
 Tille was despatched by them to Lochleven, carrying with him, concealed in the 
 
430 NOTES TO THE ABBOT 
 
 scabbard of his sword, letters to the Queen from the Earl of Athole, Maitland of 
 Lethington, and even from Throgmorton, the English ambassador, who was then 
 favorable to the unfortunate Mary, conjuring her to yield to the necessity of the 
 times, and to subscribe such deeds as Lindesay should lay before her, without 
 being startled by their tenor ; and assuring her that her doing so, in the state of 
 captivity under which she was placed, would neither, in law, honor, or conscience, 
 be binding upon her when she should obtain her hberty. Submitting, by the 
 advice of one part of her subjects, to the menace of the others, and learning that 
 Lindesay was arrived in a boasting, that is, threatening, humor, the Queen, 
 "with some reluctancy, and with tears," saith Knox, subscribed one deed resign- 
 ing her crown to her infant son, and another establishing the Earl of Murray 
 regent. It seems agreed by historians that Lindesay behaved with great brutality 
 on the occasion. The deeds were signed 24th July 1569. 
 
 ^OTK 17.— Ganelon, p. 258 
 
 Gan, Gano, or Ganelon of Mayence, is, in the romances on the subject of Char- 
 lemagne and his Paladi'is, always represented as the traitor by whom the 
 Christian champion:: are betrayed. 
 
 Note 18.— Scottish Fairs, p. 271 
 
 At Scottish fairs, the bailie, or magistrate, deputed by the lord in whose name 
 the meeting is held, attends the fair with his guard, decides trifling disputes, and 
 punishes on the spot any petty delinquencies. His attendants are usually armed 
 with halberds, and, sometimes at least, escorted by music. Thus, in the Life 
 and Death of Habbie Simpson, we are told of that famous minstrel— 
 
 At fairs he play'd before the spear-men. 
 And gaily graithed in their gear-men ; — 
 Steel bonnets, jacks, and swords shone clear then, 
 
 Like ony bead. 
 Now wha shall play before sic weir-men, 
 
 Since Habbie's dead 1 
 
 Note 19.— Kiery Craigs, p. 278 
 
 Lord Chief -Commissioner Adam, in the year 1817, formed what was called a 
 Blair- Adam Club, consisting of Sir Walter Scott and a few other friends, who 
 assembled once a-year at Blair-Adam House, near the shores of Lochleven. In 
 his Reminiscences, the Lord Chief -Commissioner, when referring to the anony- 
 mous publication of the Waverley Novels, records the following anecdote :— 
 " What confirmed, and was certainly meant to disclose to me the author, was 
 the mention of the Kiery Craigs, a picturesque piece of scenery in the grounds 
 of Blair-Adam, as being in the vicinity of Kelty Bridge, the howff of Auchter- 
 muchty, the Kinross carrier. It was only an intimate friend of the family . . . 
 who could know anything of the KieryCraigs or its name ; and both the scenery 
 and the name had attractions for Sir Walter. 
 
 " At our first meeting after the publication of the Abbot, when the party was 
 assembled on the top of the rock, the Chief-Baron Shepherd, looking Sir Walter 
 full in the face, and stamping his staff on the ground, said, ' Now, Sir Walter, I 
 think we be upon the top of the Kiery Craigs.' Sir Walter preserved profound 
 silence ; but there was a conscious looking down, and a considerable elongation 
 of hia upper lip."— Blair-Adam Tracts, 1834, p, xxxv., and Lockhart's Life of 
 Scott, vol. vi. p. 264 (Laing). 
 
 Note 20.— Mother Nicneven, p. 278 
 
 This was the name given to the grand Mother Witch, the very Hecate of Scot- 
 tish popular superstition. Her name was bestowed, in one or two instances, 
 upon sorceresses, who were held to resemble her by their superior skill in 
 "Hell's black grammar." 
 
 Note 21.— Dark Grey Man, p. 299 
 
 By an ancient, though improbable, tradition the Douglasses are said to have 
 derived their name from a champion who had greatly distinguished himself in 
 an action. When the king demanded by whom the battle had been won, the 
 attendants are said to have answered, " Sholto Douglas, sir ; " which is said to 
 mean, " Yonder dark gray man." But the name is undoubtedly territorial, and 
 token from Douglas river and dale. 
 
NOTES TO THE ABBOT 431 
 
 Note 32.— Supposed Conspiracy against the Life of Mary, p, 358 
 
 A romancer, to use a Scottish phrase, wants but a hair to make a tether of. 
 The whole detail of the steward's supposed conspiracy against the life of Mary 
 is grounded upon an expression in one of her letters, which aflBrms that Jasper 
 Dryfesdale [James Drysdale], one of the Laird of Lochleven's servants, had 
 threatened to murder William Douglas (for his share in the Queen's escape), 
 and averred that he would plant a dagger In Mary's own heart. — Chalmers's 
 Life of Queen Mary [1822], vol. i. p. 278 
 
 Note 23. — Muffled Man, p. 361 
 
 Generally a diguised man ; originally one who wears his cloak or mantle 
 muffled round the lower part of the face to conceal his countenance. I have on 
 an ancient piece of iron the representation of a robber thus accoutred, endeavor- 
 ing to make his way into a house, and opposed by a mastiff, to whom he in vain 
 offers food. The motto is Spernit dona fides. It is part of a fire-grate said to 
 have belonged to Archbishop Sharp. 
 
 Note 24— THE HOWLET, p. 376 
 
 Sir John Holland's poem of The Howlet is known to collectors by the beautiful 
 edition presented to the Bannatyne Club by Mr. David Laing.— 
 
 The preface contains remarks by Sir Walter Scott, who was president of the 
 club. The poem was composed about the middle of the 15th century, and has 
 generally been supposed to be a satire on James II. of Scotland {Laing). 
 
 Note 25.— Demeanor of Queen Mary, p. 380 
 
 In the dangerous expedition to Aberdeenshire, Randolph, the English ambas- 
 sador, gives Cecil the following account of Queen Mary's demeanor :— 
 
 " In all these garboiles, I assure you, I never saw her [the Queen] merrier, 
 never dismayed ; nor never thought that so much to be in her that I find. She 
 repented nothing but, when the lords and others, at Inverness, came in the 
 morning from the watch, that she was not a man to know what life it was to lie 
 all night in the fields, or to walk on the causeway with a jack and a knapschalle, 
 a Glasgow buckler, and a broadsword."— Randolph to Cecil, September 18, 1562. 
 
 The writer of the above letter seems to have felt the same impression which 
 Catherine Seyton, in the text, considered as proper to the Queen's presence 
 among her armed subjects. 
 
 " Though we neither thought nor looked for other than on that day to have 
 fought or never— what desperate blows would net have been given, when every 
 man should have fought in the sight of so noble a queen, and so many fair 
 ladies, our enemies to have taken them from us, and we to save our honors, not 
 to be reft of them, your honor can easily judge 1 ''—The same to the same [con- 
 densed], September 23, 1562. 
 
 Note 26.— Escape of Queen Mary from Lochleven, p. 388 
 
 It is well known that the escape of Queen Mary from Lochleven was effected 
 by George Douglas, the youngest brother of Sir William Douglas, the lord of the 
 castle ; but the minute circumstances of the event have been a good deal con- 
 fused, owing to two agents having been concerned in it who bore the same name. 
 It has been always supposed that George Douglas was induced to abet Mary's 
 escape by the ambitious hope that, by such service, he might merit her hand. 
 But his purpose was discovered by his brother Sir William, and he was expelled 
 from the castle. He continued, notwithstanding, to hover in the neighborhood, 
 and maintain a correspondence with the royal prisoner and others in the 
 
 If we believe the English ambassador Drury, the Queen was grateful to George 
 Douglas, and even proposed a marriage with him— a scheme which could hardlv 
 be serious, since she was still the wife of Bothwell, but which, if suggested at all, 
 might be with a purpose of gratifying the Regent Murray's ambition, and pro- 
 pitiating his favor ; since he was, it must be remembered, the brother uterine 
 of George Douglas, for whom such high honor was said to be designed. 
 
 The proposal, if seriously made, was treated as inadmissible, and Mary again 
 resumed her purpose of escape. Her failure in her first attempt has some pic- 
 turesque particulars, which might have been advantageously introduced in ficti- 
 tious narrative. Drury sends Cecil the following account of the matter :— 
 
 '* But after, upon the 25th of the last (April 1567), she enterprised an escape, and 
 was the rather nearer effect, through her accustomed long lying m bed all the 
 
432 NOTES TO THE ABBOT 
 
 morning. The manner of it was thus : there cometh in to her the laundress early 
 as other times before she was wonted, and the Queen according to such a secret 
 practise putteth on her the weed of the laundress, and so with the fardel of 
 cloathes and her muffler upon her face, passeth out and entreth the boat to pass 
 the loch ; which, after some space, one of them that rowed said merrily, " Let us 
 see what manner of dame this is," and therewith offered to pull down her muf. 
 fler, which, to defend, she put up her hands, which they spied to be very fair and 
 white ; wherewith they entered into suspicion whom she was, beginning to won- 
 der at her enterprise. Whereat she was little dismayed, but charged them, upon 
 danger of their lives, to row her over to the shore, whch they nothing regarded, 
 but eftsoons rowed her back again, promising her that it should be secreted, and 
 especially from the lord of the house, under whose guard she lyeth. It seemeth 
 she knew her refuge, and where to have found it if she had once landed ; for there 
 did, and yet do linger, at a little village called Kinross, hard at the loch side, the 
 same George Douglas, one Sempil, and one Beton, the which two were sometime 
 her trusty servants, and, as yet appeareth, they mind her no less affection. ■"— 
 Bishop Keith's History of the Affairs of Church and State in Scotland, p. 470. 
 
 Notwithstanding this disappointment, little spoke of by historians, Mary re- 
 newed her attempts to escape. There was in the Castle of Lochleven a lad named 
 William Douglas, some relation probably of the baron, and about eighteen years 
 old. This youth proved as accessible to Queen Mary's prayers and promises as 
 was the brother of his patron, George Douglas, from whom this William must be 
 carefully kept distinct. It was young William who played the part commonly 
 assigned to his superior, George,— stealing the keys of the castle from the table 
 on which they lay, while his lord was at supper. He let the Queen and a wait- 
 ing-woman out of the apartment where they were secured, and out of the tower 
 itself, embarked with them in a small skiff, and rowed them to the shore. To 
 prevent instant pursuit, he, for precaution's sake, locked the iron grated door of 
 the tower, and threw the keys into the lake. They found George Douglas and 
 the Queen's servant, Beaton [Betoun], waiting for them, and Lord Seyton and 
 James Hamilton of Orbieston in attendance, at the head of a party of faithful 
 followers, with whom they fled to Niddrie Castle, and from thence to Hamilton. 
 
 In narrating this romantic story, both history and tradition confuse the two 
 Douglasses together, and coiu'er on George the successful execution of the escape 
 from the castle, the merit of which belongs in reality to the boy called William, 
 or, more frequently, the Little Douglas, either from his youth or his slight stature. 
 The reader will observe, that in the romance the part of the Little Douglas has 
 been assigned to Roland Graeme. In another case, it would be tedious to point 
 out in a work of amusement such minute points of historical fact ; but the gen- 
 eral interest taken in the fate of Queen Mary renders everything of consequence 
 which connects itself with her misfortunes. 
 
 Note 27.— Battle of Langside, p. 413 
 
 I am informed In the most polite manner by D. MacVean, Esq., of Glasgow, 
 that I have been incorrect in my locality, in giving an account of the battle of 
 Langside. Crookstone Castle, he observes, lies four miles west from the field of 
 battle, and rather in the rear of Murray's army. The real place from which 
 Mary saw the rout of her last army was Cathcart Castle, which, being a mile and 
 a half east from Langside, was situated in the rear of the Queen's own army. I 
 was led astray in the present case by the authority of my deceased friend, James 
 Grahame, the excellent and amiable author of the Sabbath, in his drama on the 
 subject of Queen Mary ; and by a traditionary report of Mary having seen the 
 battle from the Castle of Crookstone, which seemed so much to increase the in- 
 terest of the scene that I have been unwilling to make, in this particular instance, 
 the fiction give way to the fact, which last is undoubtedly in favor of Mr. Mac- 
 Vean's system. 
 
 It is singular how tradition, which is sometimes a sure guide to truth, is, in 
 other cases, prone to mislead us. In the celebrated field of battle at Killiecrankie, 
 the traveler is struck with one of those rugged pillars of rough stone, which in- 
 dicate the scenes of ancient conflict. A friend of the Author, well acquainted 
 with the circumstances of the battle, was standing near this large stone, and look- 
 ing on the scene around, when a Highland shepherd hurried down from the hill 
 to offer his services as cicerone, and proceeded to inform him that Dundee was 
 slain at that stone, which was raised to his memory. " Fie, Donald," answered 
 my friend, " how can you tell such a story to a stranger ? I am sure you know 
 well enough that Dundee was killed at a considerable distance from this place, 
 near the house of Fascally, and that this stone was here long before the battle, in 
 1688." " Oich !— oich 1 " said Donald, no way abashed, " and your honor's in the 
 right, and I see you ken a' about it. And he wasna killed on the spot neither, but 
 lived till the next morning ; but a' the Saxon gentlemen like best to hear he was 
 
NOTES TO THE ABBOT 433 
 
 Wiled at the great stane." It is on the same principle oft pleasing my readers 
 that I retain Crookstone Castle instead of Cathcart. 
 
 If, however, the Author has taken a liberty jn removing the actual field of bat- 
 tle somewhat to the eastward, he has been tolerably strict in adhering to the in- 
 cidents of the engagement, as will appear from a comparison of events in the 
 novel with the following account from an old writer, 
 
 " The Regent was out on foot and all his company, except the Laird of Grange, 
 Alexander Hume of Manderston, and some Borderers to the number of two 
 hundred. The Laird of Grange had already viewed the ground, and with all im^ 
 aginable diligence caused every horseman to take behind him a footman of the 
 Regent's, to guard behind them, and rode with speed to the head of the Langside 
 Hill, and set down the sett footmen with their culverings at the head of a strait, 
 lane, where there were some cottage houses and yards of great advantage. 
 Which soldiers with their continual shot killed divers of the vaunt-guard, 
 led by the Hamiltouns, who, couragiously and fiercely ascending up the hill, 
 were already out of breath, when the Regent's vaunt-guard joined with them. 
 Where the worthy Lord Hume fought on foot with his pike in his hand very man- 
 fully, assisted by the Laird of Cesfoord, his brother-in-law, who helped him up 
 again when he was strucken to the ground by many stroaks upon his face, by the 
 throwing pistols at him after they had been discharged. He was also wounded 
 with staves, and had many stroaks of spears through his legs ; for he and Grange, 
 at the joining, cried to let their adversaries first lay down their spears, to bear 
 up theirs ; which spears were so thick fixed in the others' jacks, that some of the 
 patois and great staves that were thrown by them which were behind, might be 
 seen lying upon the spears. 
 
 " Upon the Queen's side the Earl of Arguile commanded the battle, and the 
 Lord of Arbroth the vaunt-guard. But the Regent committed to the Laird of 
 Grange the special care, as being an experimented captain, to oversee every dan- 
 ger, and to ride to every wing, to encourage and make help where greatest need 
 was. He perceived, at the first joining, the right wing of the Regent's vaunt- 
 guard put back, and like to fly, whereof the greatest part were commons of the 
 barony of Renfrew ; whereupon he rode to them, and told them that their enemy 
 was already turning their backs, requesting them to stay and debate till he should 
 bring them fresh men forth of 'le battle. Whither at full speed he did ride 
 alone, and told the Regent that tlu^ enemy were shaken and flying away behind 
 the little village, and desired a few number of fresh men to go with him. Where 
 he found enough willing, as the Lord Lindesay, the Laird of Lochleven, Sir James 
 Balfour, and all the Regent's servants, who followed him with diligence, and re- 
 inforced that wing which was beginning to fly ; which fresh men with their loose 
 weapons struck the enemies in their flanks and faces, which forced them incon- 
 tinent to give place and turn back aiter long fighting and pushing others to and 
 fro with their spears. There were not many horsemen to pursue after them, and 
 the Regent cried to save and not to kill, and Grange was never cruel, so that 
 there were few slain and taken. And the only slaughter was at the first ren- 
 counter by the shot of the soldiers, which Grange had planted at the lane-head 
 behind some dikes." 
 
 It is remarkable that, while passing through the small town of Renfrew, some 
 partizans, adherents of the house of Lennox, attempting to arrest Queen Mary 
 and her attendants, were obliged to make way for her, not without slaughter.— 
 
 The Castle of Rutherglen was demolished immediately after the battle by the 
 Regent's party. 
 
 The suburban district of Glasgow towards the south, named Cathcart, takes its 
 name from the old castle, and, owing to the growth of the city in this direction, 
 the site of the battle of Langside is brought contiguous to the southeast side of 
 the Queen's Park. On the west of this park the site of the Regent Murray's camp 
 is commemorated by the " Camp Hill," and at the village of Langside there is a 
 cottage which goes by the name of " Queen Mary's Cottage." The Queen's Park 
 is in a direct line with Glasgow Bridge, from which it is three miles distant in a 
 straight line (Laing), 
 
 Note 28.— Burial op the Abbot's Heart in the Avenel Aisle, p. 421 
 
 This was not the explanation of the incident of searching for the heart, men- 
 tioned in the introduction to the tale, which the Author originally intended. It 
 was designed to refer to the heart of Robert Bruce. It is generally known that 
 that great monarch, being on his death-bed, bequeathed to the good Lord James 
 of Douglas the task of carrying his heart to the Holy Land, to fulfil in a certain 
 degree his own desire to perform a crusade. Upon Douglas's death, fighting 
 against the Moors in Spain, a sort of military hors d'ceuvre to which he could have 
 28 
 
434 yOTES rO THE ABBOT 
 
 Sleadtd no regular call of duty, his followers brought back the Bruce's heart, and 
 eposited it in the abbey church of Melrose, the Kennaquhair of the tale. 
 
 This abbey had been always particularly favored by the Bruce. We have al- 
 ready seen nis extreme anxiety that each of the reverend brethren should be 
 daily supplied with a service of boiled almonds, rice and milk, pease, or the like, 
 to be called the " king's mess," and that without the ordinary service of their 
 table being either disturbed in quantity or quality. But this was not the only 
 mark of the benignity of good King Robert towards the monks of Melrose, since, 
 by a charter of the date 29th May 1326, he conferred on the Abbot of Melrose the 
 sum of £2000 sterling, for rebuilding the Church of St. Mary's, ruined by the 
 English ; and there is little or no doubt that the principal part of the remains 
 which now display such exc^uisite specimens of Gothic architecture, at its very 
 purest period, had their origin in this munificent donation. The money was to 
 be paid out of crown lands, estates forfeited to the King, and other property or 
 demesnes of the crown. 
 
 A very curious letter, written to his son about three weeks before his death, 
 has been pointed out to me by my friend Mr. Thomas Thomson, Deputy-Register 
 for Scotland. It enlarges so mucn on the love of the royal writer to the com- 
 munity of Melrose, that it is well worthy of being inserted in a work connected 
 in some degree with Scottish history. 
 
 LiTERA Domini Regis Roberti ad filium Sudu David 
 "Robertus dei gratia rex Scottorum, David precordialissimo filio suo, ac 
 ceteris successoribus suis, Salutem, et sic ejus precepta tenere, ut cum sua 
 benedictione possint regnare. Fill carissime, digne censeri videtur filius, qui, 
 paternos in bonis mores imitans, piam ejus nititur exequi voluntatem, nee pro- 
 prie sibi sumit nomen heredis, qui salubribus predecessoris affectibus non 
 adherit ; cupientes igitur, ut piam affectionem et scineram dilectioncm, quam 
 erga monasterium de Melros, ubi cor nostrum ex speciali devotione dlsposuimus 
 tumulandum, et erga religiosos ibidem Deo servientes, ipsorum vita sanctissima 
 nos ad hoc excitante, concepimus ; tu ceterique successores mei pia scinceritate 
 prosequamini, ut, ex vestre dilectionis affectu dictis religiosis nostri causa post 
 mortem nostram ostenso, ipsi pro nobis ad orandum fervencius et forcias animen- 
 tur. Vobis precipimus quantum possumus, instanter supplicamus, 3t ex toto 
 corde in jungimus, quatinus assignacionibus quas eisdem viris relip-iosis et f abrica 
 ecclesie sue de novo fecimus ac eciam omnibus aliis donacionibus nostris, ipsos 
 libere gaudere permittans, easdem potius si necesse fuerit au: mentantes quam 
 diminuentes, ipsorum peticiones auribus benevolis admittentes, ac ipsos contra 
 suos invasores et emulos pia defensione protegentes. Hanc autem exhortaci- 
 onem supplicacionem et preceptum tu, fill ceterique successores nostri, prestanti 
 animo complere curetis, si nostram benedictionem habere velitis, ui.a cum bene- 
 dictione flliisummi regis, qui Alios docuit patrum voluntates in bono perficere. 
 asserens in mundum se venisse non ut suam voluntatem faceret sed paternam. 
 In testimonium autem nostre devotionis erga locum predictum sic a nobis dilec- 
 turn et electum concepte, presentem literam religiosis predictis dimittimus, nos- 
 tris successoribus in posterum ostendendam. Data apud Cardros, undecimo 
 die Maij, anno regni nostri vicessimo quarto." 
 
 If this charter be altogether genuine, and there is no appearance of forgery, 
 It gives rise to a curious doubt in Scottish history. The letter announces that 
 the King had already destined his heart to be deposited at Melrose. The resolu- 
 tion to send it to Palestine, under the charge of Douglas, must have been adopted 
 betwixt 11th May 1329, the date of the letter, and 7th June of the same year, 
 when the Bruce died ; or else we must suppose that the commission of Douglas 
 extended not only to taking the Bruce's heart to Palestine, but to bring it safe 
 back to its final place of deposit in the Abbey of Melrose. 
 
 It would not be worth inquiring by what caprice the Author was induced to 
 throw the incident of the Bruce's heart entirely out of the story, save merely to 
 say, that he found himself unable to fill up the canvas he had sketched, and in- 
 disposed to prosecute the management of the supernatural machinery with 
 which his plan, when it was first rough-hewn, was concerted and combined- 
 
GLOSSARY 
 
 OF 
 
 VVORDS, PHRASES, AND ALLUSIONS 
 
 A by, abye, to suffer, 
 endure 
 
 Ad unguem, at the fingers' 
 ends 
 
 Alexipharmics, antidotes 
 to poisons, etc. 
 
 A mot ! mes Franqais ! 
 Hither 1 my French 
 guard 
 
 Anastasius, or Memoirs of 
 a Greek written at the 
 Close of the Eighteenth 
 Century (1819 ), by 
 Thomas Hope, a member 
 of a wealthy Anglo- 
 Dutch family 
 
 Andrea Ferrara, a Scot- 
 tish broadsword 
 
 Anilities, old women's 
 follies, acts of dotage 
 
 Aqua, etc. (p. 304), won- 
 derful water 1 it has been 
 proved 
 
 Argute, sharp, acute 
 
 Aristarch, a severe critic, 
 after Aristarchus the 
 most celebrated critic of 
 antiquity, who lived at 
 Alexandria before and 
 after 200 b. c. 
 
 Aries, earnest money 
 
 Atrowling, a-roUing 
 
 Aver, a draught horse 
 
 Awmous, alms 
 
 Bacharac, or Bacharach, 
 on the Rhine, in the 
 wine-growing region. It 
 is nearly 100 miles W. of 
 Wilrzburg 
 
 Bachelor Samson Car- 
 rasco. See Don Quixote, 
 Pt. II. chap. xiv. 
 
 Back-sword, sword with 
 only one sharp edge 
 
 Bailie, or Bailey, the outer 
 courtyard of a feudal 
 castle 
 
 Banders, confederates 
 
 Bangsters, bullies, disor- 
 derly persons 
 
 Barnbougle, a ruined 
 cflistle in Dalmeny Park, 
 on the Firth of Forth, 
 belonging to the Earl of 
 
 Rosebery ; it was rebuilt 
 in 1880 
 
 Bayes's tragedy. The Re- 
 hearsal (1672), by George 
 Villiers, Duke of Buck- 
 ingham, Bayes being a 
 character in the piec; 
 intended to satirize 
 Dryden. The play (a 
 comedy) concludes with 
 a battle between soldiers 
 and hobby-horses 
 
 Bears are you there with, 
 a proverbial expression 
 indicative of the repeti- 
 tion of an annoyance. A 
 man, disliking a sermon 
 on Elisha and the bears, 
 went the next Sunday to 
 a different church, but 
 there the sermon was 
 from the same text, and 
 he exclaimed, " Are you 
 there again with your 
 bears ? " 
 
 Beef-brewis, beef-broth 
 
 Bello na, the ancient 
 Romans' goddess of war 
 
 Benedicite, bless you I a 
 blessing 
 
 Benedicti, etc. (p. 84), 
 Blessed are they who 
 come in the name of the 
 Loi'd 
 
 Benedictus, etc. (p. 290), 
 Blessed be he who comes 
 in the name of the Lord, 
 condemned he who 
 comes in the name of the 
 enemy 
 
 Bield, shelter, refuge 
 
 Bilbo, bilboa, a sword 
 made at Bilboa in North 
 Spain 
 
 Birlit, made a whirring 
 noise, spun away 
 
 Black-jack, a drinking- 
 vessel or ale-pitcher 
 made of waxed leather 
 
 Bl ack Ormiston, con- 
 cerned in the murder of 
 Darnley 
 
 Bleeding heart, the badge 
 
 of the Douglas family, 
 
 from Good Earl James 
 
 435 
 
 having carried Bruce^i 
 heart to Palestine 
 
 Bodle, a small copper 
 coin = l-6th of a penny 
 English 
 
 Boll, or bow, a dry 
 measure =6 bushels 
 
 Bolt head, a hollow glass 
 globe with a long neck, 
 used in distillation 
 
 Border doom, hanging 
 
 Bow, boll, an old Scotch 
 measure -= 6 bushels 
 
 Bowton, Hepburn ofy a 
 relative of Bothwell, an 
 agent in the murder of 
 Darnley 
 
 Brag, proudly defy, chal- 
 lenge 
 
 Bran, the dog of Fingal in 
 Ossian^s Poems 
 
 Brancher, a young bird 
 able to leave the nest 
 and hop about on the 
 branches 
 
 Brandy-wine, brandy 
 
 Branle, dance 
 
 Bravade, boast 
 
 Brent brow, smooth, high 
 forehead 
 
 Broken clan, one that had 
 no chief able to find 
 security for their good 
 behaviour, as the 
 Graemes of the Debate- 
 able Land 
 
 Broumie, a gnome. See 
 El she in the Black 
 Dwarf 
 
 Bumbasted, or bombasted^ 
 stuffed with ootton- 
 wool, etc. 
 
 Caleb Williams (ITM), by 
 
 William Godwin, father 
 
 of Shelley's wife 
 Caliburn, the sword of 
 
 King Arthur 
 Calipolis, wife of the 
 
 Moorish prince in Peels'*! 
 
 play The Battle of 
 
 Alcazar 
 CalloVs Temptations, the 
 
 masterpiece of Jacques 
 
 Callot, a 17th century 
 
WAVERLET NOVELS 
 
 engraver of Nancy, 
 whose plates witness to 
 a most fantastic and 
 grotesque imagination 
 
 Calm sough, a quiet 
 tongue 
 
 Cambuscan, king of Sarra 
 in Tartary, the model of 
 kinj^ly virtues, figures in 
 Chaucer's Squire^s Tale 
 and in Spenser's Faerie 
 Queene, Bk. iv. 
 
 Cantharides, Spanish flies, 
 used to raise blisters — an, 
 animal not a vegetable 
 poison 
 
 Cardinal , (p. 352). See 
 Uncle the Cardinal 
 
 Carrasco Bachelor Sam- 
 son. See BacJielor Sam- 
 son Carrasco 
 
 Carslogie, laird of, the 
 head of the Clephane 
 family; the house stands 
 1 1-2 miles from Cupar 
 in Fife 
 
 Gates, delicacies, fancy 
 confectionery 
 
 Catholicouy universal 
 remedy 
 
 Celsus, a physician of the 
 1st century a. d., wrote 
 in Latin a history of 
 medicine as practised in 
 ancient Alexandria 
 
 Change-house, alehouse 
 
 Chiragra, gout in the hand 
 
 Christian Majesty, 
 Francis II., king of 
 France ; His Very (:!hris- 
 
 ' tian Majesty was the 
 usual title-designate of 
 the king of France 
 
 Churchill, a satiric poet 
 of the 18th century. See 
 Boswell's Life of John- 
 son, under the year 1763 
 
 Clout, a mark in the very 
 middle of the target 
 
 Clouted, mended 
 
 Cock of the North, Earl of 
 Huntly 
 
 Cog, to cheat, deceive, 
 wheedle 
 
 Coif, woman's cap or 
 covering for the head 
 
 Colewort, any kind of 
 greens 
 
 Colman''s drama. The Iron 
 Chest, a three-act drama 
 founded on Godwin's 
 Caleb Williams, was 
 written bv George Col- 
 man, junior, and pro- 
 
 . duced in 1796 
 
 Commendator, lay holder 
 of a benefice 
 
 Conquraverunt, etc. (p. 
 87), The princes have 
 conspired among them- 
 selves, saying, Let us 
 aMit His cords from us 
 
 Corbie, raven ; corbie- 
 messenger, one that re- 
 turns too late or not at 
 all. an allusion to Noah's 
 raven 
 
 Cordinare, cordwaiuer, 
 shoemaker, leather- 
 worker 
 
 Coronach, dirge 
 
 Couranto, a lively, rapid 
 dance 
 
 Courcelles, French am- 
 bassador in Scotland, 
 1586-87 
 
 Crack-hemp, crack-halter, 
 one fated to come to the 
 gallows 
 
 Crafteschilder, servants, 
 etc., of craftsmen, arti- 
 zans 
 
 Crowd, a fiddle 
 
 Crown of the sun, old 
 French gold coin of 
 Louis XI. and Charles 
 VIII., with the sun 
 shown above the crown 
 = 14s. 
 
 Cruizuedor, or cruzade 
 d'or, a Portuguese gold 
 coin worth about half-a- 
 crown 
 
 Cubicular, groom of the 
 bedchamber, chamber- 
 lain 
 
 Cuittle, to tickle, wheedle 
 
 Culpas meas, my sins 
 
 Curch, woman's cap 
 
 Cut, a gelding, a term of 
 reproach 
 
 Cyprus, thin black stuff 
 
 Dalmatique, a loose, long 
 ecclesiastical robe, with 
 wide sleeves 
 
 Danske, Danish 
 
 Dark Grey Man (Douglas). 
 See Note 21, p. 430 
 
 Darnaway (Castle), the 
 seat of the Earl of Mur- 
 ray, near Forres in 
 Elginshire 
 
 Debateable Land, between 
 the rivers Sark and Esk, 
 on the borders of Cum- 
 berland and Dumfries 
 
 D es Rodomontades Es- 
 pagnolles, a collection of 
 tales, anecdotes, etc., of 
 Spanish boasting, taken 
 from various authors by 
 Jacques Gautier, or 
 Gaultier (Rouen, 1612) ' 
 
 Diascordium, confection 
 of scordium, the water! 
 germander J 
 
 Dight your gabs, wipe 
 your mouths, be silent 
 
 Dink, to deck, adorn 
 
 Discernit, etc. (p. 285), The 
 wise man discriminates 
 things which the fool 
 confounds 
 
 Disponitupon, disposed of 
 Doom, judgment, verdict 
 Dortour, a dormitory 
 Douce, sober, sedate 
 Douglas lady of the hou^e 
 of (p. 342). Catherine 
 Douglas endeavored to 
 keep out the murderers 
 of James I. of Scotland 
 by thrusting her arm 
 through the staple of the 
 door (1437) 
 Do veniamy 1 give you 
 
 leave 
 Dow, dove 
 
 Draphane, or Draffan, a 
 castle belonging to the 
 Hamiltons in Fifeshire ; 
 but Mary proceeded to 
 Hamilton Park when she 
 left Niddrie Castle 
 Drawncansir, a blustering 
 braggart in The Rehear- 
 sal (1672), hyQ. Villiers 
 Duke of Buckingham 
 Dreadour, dread, fear 
 Dudgeon-dagger, a small 
 dagger with an orna- 
 mental wooden haft 
 Duenna, an old woman 
 who watches that a 
 younger observes the 
 rules of decorum 
 Duke of Orkney, James 
 Hepburn, Earl of Both- 
 well 
 Duncansbay Head, in the 
 extreme north of Scot- 
 land 
 
 Earn, or erne, an eagle 
 
 Electuary, a medical con 
 fection or paste 
 
 En champ clos, in an in- 
 closed field 
 
 Erne, or earn, eagle 
 
 Everiche, every 
 
 Exheridated, or exhere- 
 dated, disinherited 
 
 Ex oribus parvulorum. 
 Out of the mouths of 
 babes 
 
 Fades hijypocratica, hip«- 
 pocratic or sickly coun- 
 tenance 
 
 Farthingale, a hoop petti* 
 coat 
 
 Fash, trouble, concern 
 
 Fell, skin ; cruel 
 
 Fiat experimentum, etc. 
 (p. 348), Let the experi- 
 ment be made upon A 
 common body 
 
 Flaunes, or flams, pan- 
 cakes 
 
 Fleech, to flatter, cajole 
 
 Four e-hammer, sledge* 
 hammer 
 
 Four-hours'' penny, four 
 o'clock meal— a phraoe 
 used by Knox 
 
GLOSSARY 
 
 4S7 
 
 F o X, an old - fashioned 
 broadsword 
 
 Frack, bold, prompt and 
 resolute 
 
 French Paris, or Nicholas 
 Hubert, a servant of 
 Bothwell, sometime also 
 of Mary, assisted in the 
 murder of Darnley 
 
 Frounce, a distemper in 
 
 F^u^tra, etc. (p. 353), In 
 vain we vex the sick 
 with remedies 
 
 Gaillard, wanton 
 
 Galliard, a lively dance ; 
 a gay youth 
 
 Galloway nag, a small 
 strong breed of Gallo- 
 way, the south-west ex- 
 tremity of Scotland 
 
 Oalopin, scullion, cook's 
 boy 
 
 Gambade, gambol, leap, 
 spring 
 
 Gambadoes, gaiters, leg- 
 gings 
 
 Garboiles, broils, confu- 
 sions 
 
 Gazehound, a hound that 
 pursues by sight, grey- 
 hound 
 
 Gear, matter, business 
 
 Gear-men, men in armor 
 
 Gestic lore, knowledge of 
 dancing 
 
 Gled, a kite 
 
 Gleg, quick, sharp, keen 
 
 Gordon, Sir John, fourth 
 son of the Earl of Hunt- 
 ly, and one of Queen 
 Mary's lovers, was be- 
 headed at Aberdeen for 
 treason in 1562 
 
 Gospellers, Reforaiers 
 
 Gou^ty, dreary, desolate 
 
 Gowd, to lay, to embroider 
 in gold 
 
 Graithed, equipped, 
 decked 
 
 Graysteil, Sir Greysteil, 
 a metrical romance in 
 which are narrated the 
 exploits of a brave 
 knight. Sir Greysteil. 
 To call a man by this 
 title, as James V. did 
 Archibald Douglas of 
 Kilspindie, was esteemed 
 a choice compliment. 
 See Sir Eger 
 
 Guises, Mary's mother 
 was of this powerful 
 French (Lorraine)f amily 
 
 Guy of Warwick, the hero 
 of a mediaeval romance, 
 slew a fierce Dun Cow on 
 Dunsmore Heath, near 
 Rugby 
 
 Backit, or hawkit, white- 
 faced 
 
 Hagg, or hag, a pit or 
 break in a morass 
 
 Haggard, a wild hawk that 
 has been tamed 
 
 Halidome, land held under 
 a religious house 
 
 Harquebuss, an ancient 
 firelock 
 
 Harry groat, a groat=4d., 
 of Henry VIII. 
 
 Hawick to Hermitage Cas- 
 tle. Mary rode in one 
 day from Jedburgh (not 
 Hawick) to Hermitage 
 Castle, near the Border, 
 and back, a total dis- 
 tance of 40 miles, to visit 
 the Earl of Bothwell, 
 who had been wounded 
 in a Border fight 
 
 Hay of Luacarty, the an- 
 cestor of three noble 
 Scottish families— Errol, 
 Tweeddale, and Kinnoul 
 —was originally a pea- 
 sant, who saved the Scot- 
 tish army from defeat by 
 the Danes shortly before 
 the year 994 
 
 Hay of Talla, a Borderer, 
 concerned in the murder 
 of Darnley 
 
 Herling, young of the sea- 
 trout 
 
 Heywood, Thomas, drama- 
 tist and actor of the first 
 half of the 17th century 
 
 Hicjacet, etc. (p. Ill), Here 
 lies Abbot Eustace 
 
 Hob (Ormiston), uncle of 
 the Black Laird of Ormi- 
 ston, concerned in the 
 murder of Darnley 
 
 Hobby, a strong,active nag 
 
 Hodden-grey, rough cloth, 
 the natural color of the 
 wool 
 
 Holyrood Palace was re- 
 built in the reign of 
 Charles II., not Charles 
 I., namely, between 1671 
 and 1679 
 
 Hoodie, or hooded, crow, 
 the carrion crow 
 
 Horn, put to. See Put to 
 horn 
 
 Hors d''ceuvre, digression 
 
 Hours, a Roman Catholic 
 book of prayers for pri- 
 vate devotions 
 
 Howff, a haunt, resort 
 
 Howlet, the owl 
 
 Ilk, the same ; ilka, every 
 
 In adversitate, etc. (p. 
 428), Patient in adver- 
 sity, benevolent in pros- 
 perity 
 
 In dubio, in doubt 
 
 Injeer, or ingere, to insin- 
 uate, force oneself in in- 
 sidiously 
 
 " In my school-days,''* etc. 
 (p. xii). See Merchau t oj 
 Venice, Act i. sc. 1 
 
 Inter nos, between our- 
 selves 
 
 Intrate, met filii. Enter 
 my sons 
 
 Jack-a-lent visages, long, 
 serious faces, like peni- 
 tents in Lent 
 
 Jeddart staff, a species of 
 battle-axe formerly used 
 by the men of Jedburgh 
 or Jeddart 
 
 Jerking, a beating, whip- 
 ping 
 
 Jesses, straps fastened 
 round the legs of a hawk 
 
 Jester, celebrated, (p. 120). 
 Howleglass, the German 
 Till Eulenspiegel (i.e. 
 Owl-Glass) 
 
 Je suis, etc. (p. 429), I am 
 neither king nor prince ; 
 I am the Lord of Coucy 
 
 Jibbat, gibbet 
 
 Jiggeting, behaving in an 
 affected manner, flaunt- 
 ing 
 
 Jouk, stoop, duck down ; 
 jouk and let the jaw 
 gang by, stoop and let 
 the wave pass 
 
 Jour de jeune, a fast-day 
 
 Julep, a sweet drink, cor- 
 dial 
 
 Kail, colewort, cabbage 
 Kain-fowls, fowls paid as 
 
 part of rent 
 Kelpie, a water-spirit 
 Kent, to propel a boat 
 by pushing a long pole 
 against the bottom of the 
 lake 
 Kerrs, of Cessford and 
 Fernieherst, powerful 
 Border chieftains, Cath- 
 olics and supporters of 
 Mary Queenot Scots 
 King Candaules, of an- 
 cient Lvdia in Asia 
 Minor, who exposed his 
 wife to Gyges, in the 6th 
 century b.c. The lady 
 persuaded Gyges to slay 
 her husband, and then 
 married the slayer 
 Kim-milk, butter-milk 
 Kittle, ticklish, difficult 
 Knapscap knapschalle, or 
 knapscull, head- piece or 
 helmet 
 
 Ladies Sandilands and 
 Olifaunt. The third 
 dame of the trio was 
 named Weir. See Allan 
 Ramsay's Evergreen 
 (1724), vol. i. 
 
 La Mer de» lIi$tQire$, % 
 
433 
 
 WA yjSMLET NOVELS 
 
 universal history or 
 chronicle, translated 
 (1848) from the Mare 
 Historiarum of John 
 C o 1 o n n a, Dominican, 
 who in 1255 was made 
 Archbishop of Messina, 
 Sicily 
 
 Landward town, rural, in- 
 land farmstead 
 
 Lanercost, an ancient 
 abbey in Cumberland, 
 close beside the Roman 
 Wall 
 
 Lavolta, a lively dance 
 with a leaping step 
 
 hawing,, tavern-bill 
 
 Lea^t penny, a worthless 
 person 
 
 Lennox, a former county 
 of Scotland, embracing 
 Dumbarton and parts of 
 Stirling, Perth, and Ren- 
 frew 
 
 Lennox, him of the, Henry 
 Darnley, eldest son of 
 the Earl of Lennox 
 
 Lenten-kail, broth made 
 without meat 
 
 Let, retard, hinder 
 
 Licitum ait^ It may be al- 
 lowed 
 
 Lictor, an "vncient Roman 
 executi\ ^* officer 
 
 Limbo lake, where unbap- 
 tized children and good 
 heathens were believed 
 by the Roman Catholic 
 Church to spend their 
 eternity 
 
 Ling, thin, long grass ; 
 heather 
 
 Lither, lazy 
 
 Loaning, lane, meadow 
 
 Lockeram, coarse linen 
 
 Lords of the Congregation, 
 leaders of the Reforma- 
 tion in Scotland 
 
 Loretto, on the Italian 
 coast of the Adriatic, 15 
 miles from Ancona ; a 
 church there contains 
 the (reputed) house in 
 which the Virgin Mary 
 lived at Nazareth 
 
 Luath, the dog of Cuthul- 
 lin, in 0ssian''8 Poems : 
 "Fingal " 
 
 lAinga roba corta scienzia. 
 Long robe but little 
 knowledge 
 
 Lunt, lighted match, torch 
 
 Jjurdane, worthless fellow, 
 blockhead 
 
 Mail, baggage 
 
 Mail-gardener, one who 
 cultivates fruit, etc., on 
 land for which he pays 
 rent 
 
 Mair, more 
 
 Malvolio, the steward in 
 
 Shakespeare's Twelfth 
 Night 
 
 Ma mignonne, my darling 
 
 Maries, four, young ladies 
 of noble birth, attend- 
 ants of the Queen- 
 Mary Livingstone, Mary 
 Fleming, Mary Seatoun, 
 and Mary Beatoun 
 
 Mark, a Scotch coin=ls. 
 lid. ; a Dutch coin= 
 about Is. 6d. 
 
 Marot, Clement, poet, 
 translated the Psalms 
 into French verse (1541), 
 which were very popular 
 at court, and usually 
 sung to secular airs 
 
 Massymoore, a dungeon, a 
 word of Moorish origin, 
 introduced probably 
 during the crusading era 
 
 Mazzard the head, skull 
 
 Medicamentum, medicine 
 
 Menzie, the entire estab- 
 lishment 
 
 Mercat crow, market cross 
 
 Messan, a small dog, lap- 
 dog ; messan-page, cur 
 of a page 
 
 Metoposcopical, physio 
 gnomical 
 
 Mew, to confine ; cage for 
 hawks 
 
 Mickle, great, big 
 
 Minion a favorite ; pert, 
 saucy woman 
 
 Mint, to aim at 
 
 Mirror of Knighthood, 
 with fuller title. The Mir- 
 ror of Princely Deeds 
 and Knighthood etc. 
 translated out of the 
 Spanish by Margaret 
 Tyler and R. P. (1586- 
 1601) 
 
 Mithridate, an antidote to 
 poison 
 
 More Scotico, in Scotch 
 fashion 
 
 Morisco bells, used in a 
 morris dance 
 
 Mumchance, an old game 
 at cards or dice, in which 
 silence was absolutely 
 necessary 
 
 Mungo in the Padlock, 
 a play (1768) by Isaac 
 Biclcerstaffe, the plot 
 being based upon Cer- 
 vantes's novel The Jeal- 
 ous Husband 
 
 Munster, Bishop of, sup- 
 pressed with violence 
 the fanatic and impious 
 proceedings of the Ana- 
 baptists in Miinster, the 
 capital of Westphalia, in 
 
 Mutchkin, a liquid mea- 
 
 sure=3-4 pint 
 Jdy rebel subjects saw me. 
 
 etc. (p. 890), an allusion 
 to the condition in which 
 Mary was led into Edin- 
 burgh after the battle of 
 Carberry Hill, and the 
 scenes that followed in 
 the Provost's house 
 Mystagogue, interpreter 
 of mysteries 
 
 Ne accesseris, etc. (p. 
 5J65), Go not into the 
 council-chamber unless 
 invited 
 
 Neighbored ill, agreed ill, 
 disagreed 
 
 Nick with nay, disappoint 
 by denying 
 
 Nicol Forest, a Border dis- 
 trict of Cumberland 
 
 Oblast, obliged, engaged to 
 Ov €7 Heaven's forbode. 
 Heaven forbid ; over 
 God's forbode, God for- 
 bid 
 
 Pairmain, a variety of 
 apple 
 
 Pajon, Henri, a Parisian 
 lawyer. Prince Soly was 
 published in 1740 
 
 Palinuru^, the steersman 
 of ^neas. See Virgil's 
 ^neid, v. 
 
 Pantler, keeper of pantry, 
 one in charge or provi- 
 sions 
 
 Pantoufle, slipper 
 
 Parcel poet, a bit of a 
 poet, mdifferent poet 
 
 Parent, relative 
 
 Partlet, a portion of dress, 
 as a kerchief, for a lady's 
 neck and shoulders 
 
 Par voie du fait, by vio- 
 lence, actual force 
 
 Pasche, Easter 
 
 Patch, paltry fellow, fool 
 
 Paven, or pavan, a slow, 
 stately dance 
 
 Pearlin muffler, a lace veil 
 
 Peel-house, a small square 
 tower of refuge 
 
 Pestis, the plague 
 
 Petite Flamberge a rien, 
 useless little sword 
 
 Petronel, horseman's large 
 pistol 
 
 Pickthank, an officious in 
 termeddler, toady 
 
 Pie, magpie 
 
 Pilniewinks, instruments 
 for torturing the fingers 
 
 Plack, a small copper coin 
 -= 1-3 of a penny English 
 
 Pleach, to interweave, 
 plash 
 
 Poculum mane, etc. (p. 
 273), A cup drained in 
 the morning restores ex- 
 hausted nature 
 
439 
 
 Podagra, gout In the foot 
 
 Pomander-box, a box of 
 perfume 
 
 Popinjay, parrot 
 
 Portioner, one possessing 
 or inheriting part of a 
 property 
 
 Pottle, pottle-pot, a vessel 
 holding 2 quarts, tank- 
 ard 
 
 Prcemia cum, etc. (p. 275), 
 The doctor is the devil 
 when he asks for his 
 fees 
 
 Praetor, a Roman magis- 
 trate 
 
 Pragmatic, meddlesome, 
 officious 
 
 Propale, to publish 
 
 Proud peat, a person of 
 insufferable pride 
 
 Pudding - burn House, a 
 stronghold of the Arm- 
 strongs in Liddesdale. 
 See the circumstances 
 alluded to in Scott's 
 Minstrelsy of the Scot- 
 tish Border : " Dick o' 
 the Cow," vol. ii. pp. 63- 
 75 
 
 Puir, poor 
 
 Put to horn, publicly call 
 upon one to pay a debt 
 under claim of being 
 proclaimed guilty of 
 treason 
 
 Pyet, magpie 
 
 Quarrel-pane, a diamond- 
 shaped pane, formed 
 like a quarrel, the head 
 of the arrow of a cross- 
 bow 
 
 Ouean, wench 
 
 Queen Regent, Marjr of 
 Guise (or Lorraine), 
 mother of Mary Queen 
 of Scots 
 
 Quhele, wheel 
 
 Quhill, till 
 
 Quid dicis, mi fill. What 
 dost thou say, my son ? 
 
 Quousque Domine f how 
 long, O Lord ? 
 
 Raymond Lullius, a 13th 
 century philosopher, a 
 native of Majorca, who 
 invented a system of 
 mechanical logic with 
 which he tried to con- 
 vert the Mohammedans 
 to Christianity 
 
 Redder''s lick, the blow 
 that so often falls on 
 one who interferes in a 
 quarrel 
 
 Redd up, tidy, put in order 
 
 Rede, to counsel, advise ; 
 advice 
 
 Regality, lord of, one hold- 
 ing territorial jurisdic- 
 
 tion conferred by the 
 
 king 
 
 Resetter, one who harbors 
 loose characters and 
 criminals 
 
 Reveillez-vous, etc. (p. 374), 
 Awake, fair sleeper 
 
 Rifler, a hawk that catches 
 Its prey by the feathers 
 only 
 
 Rive, to rend, tear 
 
 Rock, distaff 
 
 Roke, a rock 
 
 Roseberry Topping, a con- 
 spicuous hill in Cleve- 
 land, North Riding of 
 Yorkshire 
 
 Rosewal and Lilian, a 
 popular metrical ro- 
 mance thait was still 
 sung in the streets of 
 Edinburgh as late as 
 1770. See Laing, Early 
 Metrical Tales (1826) 
 
 Rowan • tree, in popular 
 superstition a charm 
 against witches 
 
 Ruffle, to play the bully, 
 quarrel 
 
 Rung, club, cudgel 
 
 Sabcea, properly Sabra, 
 daughter of Ptolemy, 
 king of Egypt, the 
 maiden who was rescued 
 from the Dragon by St. 
 George 
 
 St. James of Covipostella, 
 a celebrated resort of 
 pilgrims, at Santiago, 80 
 miles from Corunna, in 
 the north of Spain 
 
 St, Martin of Bullions, the 
 St. Swithin or weeping 
 saint of Scotland. If his 
 festival (4th, i.e. 15th, 
 July) prove wet, forty 
 days of rain are ex- 
 pected 
 
 Salerno, school of, ranked 
 as the first medical 
 school in Europe during 
 the early Middle Ages 
 
 Salve in nomine sancto. 
 Hail in the holy name ; 
 Salvete et vos. Hail also 
 to you 
 
 Sampson^s VoW-BREAK- 
 ER, or the Fair Maid of 
 Clifton (1636), by Wil- 
 liam Sampson 
 
 Samyne, same 
 
 Sancte Benedicte, ora pro 
 me, St. Benet, pray for 
 me 
 
 Scalit, dispersed, sepa- 
 rated 
 
 Scaur, a precipitous bank 
 or rock 
 
 Scott, Michael, the magi- 
 cian, who figures in 
 
 Scott's Lay of the Last 
 
 Minstrel 
 
 Scrip, to mock, gibe 
 
 Sexton's pound, the grave 
 
 Sinclair, Oliver, an un- 
 worthy favorite of 
 James v. 
 
 Sir Eger one of the heroes 
 of the popular 16th cen- 
 tury Scottish romance 
 Sir Eger, Sir Grahame, 
 and Sir Greystil, or Sir 
 Edgar and Sir Grime 
 
 Sir Grime. See Sir Eger 
 
 Skeely, skilful, cunning in 
 simples, etc. 
 
 Sniggling, smirking 
 
 Snood, a fillet with which 
 a maiden binds her hair 
 
 Snottreth, bubbles 
 
 Snug the joiner, a charac- 
 ter in Midsummer 
 NighVs Dream 
 
 Soltra Edge, or Soutra 
 Hill, the westernmost 
 ridge of the Lammer- 
 moor Hills in Lothian 
 
 Spae-wife, fortune-teller 
 
 Spernit dona fides, the 
 faithful (dog) despises 
 bribes 
 
 Springald, a stripling 
 
 Squab, short and thick, 
 squat 
 
 Stammel, red linsey-wool- 
 sey 
 
 Staving and tailing, strik- 
 ing the bear with a staff 
 and pulling the dog by 
 the tail 
 
 Steikit, shut 
 
 Stentor, the Greek herald 
 in the Trojan War, 
 whose voice was equal 
 to those of any fifty men 
 
 Stoop (of a falcon), swoop, 
 darting down on its prey 
 
 Stoup, a vessel or measure 
 for liquids 
 
 Sub sigillo confessionis, 
 under the seal of con- 
 fession 
 
 Subtriste, somewhat sad 
 
 Sub umbra vitis sui, under 
 the shade of his own 
 vine 
 
 Succory, chicory 
 
 Sup€rceid,to suspend, 
 postpone 
 
 Tace is Latin for a candle, 
 
 silence is the word 
 Tale-Pyet, a tell-tale 
 Tent, attend, tend 
 Tercel gentle, a trained 
 
 male falcon 
 Testificate, certificate 
 Testoon, or teston, a silver 
 
 coin — Is. 
 Theban, learned, a learned 
 
 man— a Shakspearian 
 
MO 
 
 WAVERLEY NOVELS 
 
 phrase (Lear, Act iii. sc. 
 
 4) 
 Thespis, the originator of 
 
 the ancient Greek drama 
 Thumbikins, thumb- 
 screws, instrument of 
 
 torture 
 Tilbury, a gig 
 Tillyvalley, nonsense I a 
 
 fig for— —1 
 To call up him, etc. (p. 
 
 428), from Milton's H 
 
 Fenseroso 
 Tolbooth, jail 
 Totus mundus, etc. (p. 278), 
 
 The whole world acts the 
 
 player 
 Tour de jongleur, juggler^s 
 
 trick 
 Trangam, or trangram, a 
 
 trinket, trumpery orna- 
 ment 
 Tron, a church on the High 
 
 Street of Edinburgh 
 Tussis, a cough 
 Tuto, cito, jucunde, safely, 
 
 quickly, pleasantly 
 Two and a plack, two 
 
 Scotch pennies and a 
 
 plack = 1-3. EngUsh 
 
 Uncle the Cardinal. 
 
 Charles of Guise, 
 brother to Mary's 
 mother, was the real 
 ruler of France during 
 the reign of Mary's first 
 husband, the feeble 
 Francis II. 
 
 Un Dieu, etc. (p. 429), one 
 God, one faith, one king, 
 one law 
 
 Usquebaugh, whisky 
 
 Vasquine, or basquine, 
 
 fown or petticoat, worn 
 y Basque and Spanish 
 women 
 
 Vendisse, or vendace, a 
 rare kind of white fish, 
 whose flesh is accounted 
 a great delicacy 
 
 Vertu-gardin, a hoop pet- 
 ticoat 
 
 Vin-de-pays, the common 
 wine of the country 
 
 Vivers, victuals 
 
 Vix licitum, scarcely al- 
 lowable 
 
 Wanton, with a, with a 
 vengeance, the devil 1 
 
 Wap, flap, stroke of a 
 wing 
 
 Warlock, a wizard 
 
 Waur, worse 
 
 Weft, or waft, a waving, 
 beckoning, signaling 
 
 Weird, fate, destiny 
 
 Weir-men, war-men, sol- 
 diers 
 
 Welted, furnished with a 
 hem or border 
 
 Whaup, curlew 
 
 Whilly, to gull, wheedle 
 
 White-boy, petted favor- 
 ite, darling 
 
 Wimple, a veil 
 
 Wi7ie and bush. Vintners 
 and tavern-keepers used 
 in the Middle Ages to 
 hang out a bush or 
 bunch of ivy to indicate 
 that their house was an 
 inn ; hence the proverb, 
 " Good wine needs no 
 bush " 
 
 Witch of Berkley. See 
 Southey 's ballad The Old 
 Woman of Berkeley 
 
 Wonot, will not 
 
 Wrath you not, do not get 
 wroth 
 
 Wylie-coat, under vest 
 
 Yoldring, or yorlin, a yel- 
 low-hammer, bird 
 
INDEX TO THE ABBOT 
 
 4BB0r, the Novel, v. 
 
 Abbot of Unreason, 116, 119, 424. See 
 also Woodcock, Adam 
 
 Ambrosius, Abbot, controversy with 
 Warden, 3; elected abbot, 113; con- 
 fronts the revelers, 120 ; meeting 
 with his brother, 134 ; admonishes 
 Roland at Kinross, 295 ; at Lochleven 
 Castle, 382 ; at Langside, 399 ; pro- 
 tests against Mary going to England, 
 417 ; his last days, 421 
 
 Arbroath, Lord, 390 ; hot zeal at Lang- 
 side, 402 
 
 Auchtermuchty, the carrier, 356 
 
 Author, his Introduction, v ; Epistle to 
 to Captain Clutterbuck, xi ; anecdote 
 of his father, 423 
 
 Avenel, Lady of, her lonely life, 3 ; wit- 
 nesses Roland's accident, 6 ; her affec- 
 tion for him, 8, 17; interview with 
 Magdalen Graeme, 12 
 
 Barton, Elizabeth, Nun of Kent, 106, 424 
 Blinkhoolie. See Boniface, Abbot 
 Boniface, Abbot, at Kinross, 300, 384 ; at 
 
 Dundrennan, 414 
 Bridget, Abbess, 84 ; her fanaticism, 98 ; 
 
 chides Catherine, 103 
 Bruce, and Melrose, 433 
 
 Chalmers's Life of Queen Mary, 
 
 quoted, 431 
 Clutterbuck, Captain, Author's Epistle 
 
 to, xi 
 Coleridge's Christabel, quoted, 428 
 Crookstone Castle, 405, 432 
 
 Dan of the Howlethirst. See Dragon 
 
 Dark Gray Man (Douglas), 299, 430 
 
 Darnley's murder, 150, 332 
 
 Donee's Illustrations to Shakspeare, 
 quoted, 426 
 
 Douglas, George, 221 ; his talk with Ro- 
 land on the loch, 253 ; confesses his 
 treachery, 316 ; at Dryf esdale's death, 
 858 ; protects Mary against the bullets, 
 883 ; nis care for her on the ride, 387 ; 
 his pride, 391 ; watches over Mary at 
 Langside, 403 ; his death, 410 ; the his- 
 torical person, 431 
 
 Douglas, William, 432 
 
 Dragon, at Kennaquhair, 117 ; strips off 
 his disguise, 129 
 
 Drury, his reports to Cecil, 431 
 
 Dryf esdale, Jasper, 245 ^ locks out Ro 
 
 441 
 
 land, 311 ; asks him to carry the tid 
 ings, 321 ; attempts to poison Mary, 
 335 ; his fatalism, 339, 359 ; himself 
 bears the tidings, 355 ; slain by Henry 
 Seyton, 358 
 Dundrennan Abbey, Mary at, 414 
 
 Edinburgh, approach to, 148 ; streets 
 
 of, 151 
 Evil spirits, superstition regarding, 139, 
 
 Fairs, Scottish, 271, 430 
 
 Fanfarona, 162, 429 
 
 " Fause Foodrage," 423 
 
 Fisher, Ralph, 57 
 
 Fleming. Dame Mary, 214 ; remon- 
 
 strates with Catherine, 243; leaving 
 
 Lochleven Castle, 381 
 Flemings and Hollanders, 24 
 
 Ganelon, the traitor, 258, 430 
 
 Glendinning, Edward. -See Ambrosius, 
 Abbot 
 
 Glendinning, Sir Halbert, his position, 
 1 ; returns to Avenel Castle, 20 ; de- 
 scription of, 22 ; his lineage, 26, 433 ; 
 his coldness to Roland, 28 ; interrupts 
 the revelers, 128 ; takes Roland into 
 his service, 133 ; meeting with his 
 brother, 134 ; pursues Roland at 
 Langside, 409 
 
 Glendonwyne lineage, 26, 423 
 
 Glossary. 435 
 
 Goss-hawk, 81, 423. See also "Fause 
 Foodrage " 
 
 Graeme, Magdalen, interview with Lady 
 Avenel, 12; meets Roland at St. Cuth- 
 bert's, 69 ; guides him, 75 ; gets ad- 
 mittance into the nunnery, 84 ; her 
 fanaticism, 98, 105 ; takes Roland to 
 Abbey of St. Mary's, 108 ; her indig- 
 nation at the revelers, 121, 124 ; gives 
 her permission to Roland, 136; her 
 injunctions to him, 141 ; as Mother 
 Nicneven, 275 ; upbraids Roland, 293 ; 
 brought to Lochleven Castle, 345 ; 
 her enthusiasm for Mary, 349 ; an- 
 nounces Roland's descent, 393 ; the 
 name Mother Nicneven, 430 
 
 Graeme, Roland, rescued by Wolf, 6; 
 taken into Lady Avenel's service, 12 ; 
 shrinks from Sir Halbert, 28 ; his posi- 
 tion at Avenel Castle, 80; knocks 
 down the falconer, 34; goes out of th« 
 
442 
 
 INDEX TO THE ABBOT 
 
 chapel, 43 ; expelled the castle, 49 ; 
 encounter with Ralph Fisher, 57 ; as- 
 sisted by Woodcock, 62 ; meets Mag- 
 dalen Graeme, 09 ; his attachment to 
 Roman Catholic Church, 76 ; first sees 
 Catherine, 87 ; finds her in the cow- 
 stable, 101 ; on the road with Magda- 
 len, 108 ; stabs the Abbot of Unreason, 
 124 ; enters Sir Halbert's service, 133 ; 
 sets off for Edinburgh, 144 ; aids the 
 Seytons, 153 ; pursues Catherine, 156; 
 invades Lord Seyton's house, 158 ; in 
 
 Sresence of Murray, 170 ; at St. 
 Michael's hostelry, 181 ; recognizes 
 Catherine as a page, 185 ; accepts the 
 sword, 188 ; appointed page to Mary, 
 198 ; arrives at Lochleven Castle, 210 ; 
 draws Lord Seyton's sword, 232 ; at- 
 tends upon Dame Fleming and Cathe- 
 rine, 240 ; listens to Henderson's in- 
 structions, 249 ; thoughts of leaving 
 Lochleven, 251 ; oonndes in George 
 Douglas, 253 ; upbraided by Cather- 
 ine, 256 ; warned by Henderson, 261 ; 
 visits Kinross, 269 ; in company with 
 Dr. Ludin, 271 ; recognizes Catherine 
 (Henry) again, 284 ; makes love to her 
 (him), 285 ; follows her (him) to Mother 
 Nicneven's,290; upbraided by Mother 
 Nicneven, 291 ; interview with Abbot 
 Ambrosius, 295: altercation with 
 Dryfesdale, 305 ; locked out, 311 ; con- 
 fronts Henry Seyton in the garden, 
 315 ; declines to carry the tidings, 321 ; 
 won over by Catherine, 325 ; matters 
 cleared up with Catherine, 368 ; forges 
 false keys, 372 ; steals the real keys, 
 379 ; locks the castle doors behind 
 him, 382 ; disputes with Henry Sey- 
 ton, 393 ; approaches the battle at 
 Langside, "107 ; rescues Henry Seyton, 
 409 ; his lineage, 419 ; his marriage, 
 421 
 
 Hawks, for falconry, 33 ; bag for their 
 
 meat, 64, 423 
 Henderson, the chaplain, 246 ; his talk 
 
 with Roland, 261 ; conversation with 
 
 Mary, 265 
 Hobby-horse, 117,426 
 Hollanders and Flemings, 34 
 Holyrood House, time of tale, 163 
 Howleglas. See Abbot of Unreason 
 Howlet, poem, 376, 431 
 Hunting mass, 114, 424 
 Hyndman, the usher, 169, 172 
 
 Introduction, Author's, v ; Epictle to 
 Captain Clutterbuck, xl 
 
 Kerry Craigs, 278, 856, 480 
 Keltic, Old, the landlord, 357 
 Kennaquhair, monastery of, 108 
 Kinross, revels at, 271, 279 
 Kirk of Field, 150, 832 
 
 Lanolands, William, the apparitor, 425 
 Langside, battle of, 401, 432 
 Latimer, Bishop, quoted, 426 
 Leslie, skirmish with the Seytons, 152 
 Lilias, the waiting-maid, 11, 18, 81, 4C ; 
 
 informs upon Roland, 37; discussM 
 
 him with Wingate, 36, 52 
 Lindesay, Lord, 201 ; reception of, by 
 
 Mary, 219 ; his brutal rudeness to her, 
 
 236,429 
 " Listneth, gode people, everiche one," 
 
 281 
 Lochleven, Lady of, 209 ; sends Roland 
 
 to Kinross, 264 ; in attendance on 
 
 Mary, 307 ; learns of George Douglas's 
 
 treachery, 316 ; is told by Dryfesdale 
 
 of his attempt to poison Mary, 335 ; 
 
 her anxiety, o38 ; acts as steward, 
 
 363 ; taunted by Mary, 368 ; the keys 
 
 stolen from her, 379 
 Lochleven Castle, 205 ; Mary's life at, 
 
 247 ; her escape from, 380 
 Lundin, Dr. Luke, 271 ; brought to Loch- 
 
 leven Castle, 345 
 
 Maiden of Morton, 167, 429 
 
 Mary Queen of Scots, her situation, 148 ; 
 description of, 211 ; emotion on hear- 
 ing Lindesay 's voice, 215 ; receives the 
 deputation, 218 ; abdicates the throne 
 255, 429 ; her life at Lochleven, 247 ; 
 interview with Henderson, 265 ; de- 
 tected in flight, 316 ; accepts Roland's 
 devoted offer, 830 ; reminded of Darn- 
 ley's murder, 332 ; the attempt to 
 poison her, 335 ; acts the sick person, 
 344 ; supposed conspiracy against her, 
 353, 431 ; taunts Lady of Lochleven, 
 368 ; her escape, 380, 431 ; her de- 
 meanor and bearing, 380, 431 ; shows 
 herself to her adherents, 389 ; inter- 
 poses between Roland and Henry 
 Seyton, 392 ; at the battle of Lang- 
 side, 401 ; takes refuge in England, 
 416 
 
 Mass, hunting, 114, 424 
 
 Melrose Abbey, 434. See also Kennaqu- 
 hair 
 
 Melville, Sir Robert, 202, 429 ; at Loch- 
 leven, 218 ; advises Mary, 237 
 
 Morton, Earl of, his interviews with 
 Murray, 173, 200 
 
 Muffled man, 361, 431 
 
 Murray, the Regent, 170 ; in conference 
 with Morton, 173, 200 ; instructions to 
 Roland, 198 
 
 Nicneven, Mother. See Graeme, Mag- 
 dalen 
 Nicolas, Father, his grave, 111 
 Niddrie Castle, Queen Mary at, 388 
 Nun of Kent, 106, 424 
 
 Play, open-air, at Kinross, 279 
 Peter Bridge-Ward, 144 
 Physicians, pedantry of, 272 
 
 Randal, retainer of Lochleven, 210, 337, 
 
 365 
 Rizzio, place of his assassination, 168 ; 
 
 Ruthven's part in, 223 
 Robin Hood and Little John, 118, 436 
 Rosabelle, Mary's horse, 387 
 Ruthven, Lord, at Lochleven, 221 
 
 St. Bridget, nunnery of, 102, 424 
 St. Cuthbert's cell, 65, 423 
 
INDEX TO THE ABBOT 
 
 443 
 
 St. Michael's hostelry, 182 
 
 St. Serf's Island, 310 
 
 Scotland, condition of, time of tale, 55, 
 148 398 
 
 Sottish fairs, 271, 430 
 
 Seyton, Catherine, 87; first talk with 
 Koland, 90 ; discovered in the cow- 
 stable, 101 ; espied by Roland in Edin- 
 burgh, 156 ; in attendance on Queen 
 Mary, 223 ; teazes Roland, 239 ; up- 
 braids hini, 256 ; wins him to the 
 Queen, 325 ; her anger at Lady Flem- 
 ing, 333 ; clears up matters with him, 
 368 ; pledges herself for Roland's 
 fidelity, 382 ; at Langside, 403 ; mar- 
 riage, 421 
 
 Seyton, Henry, at St. Michael's hostelry, 
 285 ; gives Roland the sword, 188 ; 
 switches Woodcock, 190 ; in disguise 
 at Kinross, 282 ; mistaken for Cath- 
 erine, 284, followed by Roland, 290; 
 confronted by him, 315 ; stabs Dryfes- 
 dale, 358 ; assists Mary to escape, 381 ; 
 his dispute with Roland, 393 ; goes to 
 his father's aid, 405; rescued by 
 Roland, ano ieath, 409 
 
 Seyton, Lord, fight with the Leslies, 
 152 : rewards Roland, 162 ; his advice 
 to Mary, 232 ; at Niddrie Castle, 391 ; 
 at Langside, 4 ; his fidelity to Mary, 
 429 
 
 Sheriff of Cumberland, 416 
 
 Sir John Oldcastle, quoted, 425 
 
 Spirits, evil, superstition regarding, 428 
 
 Talea of the Genii, quoted, 4S8 
 
 " The friars of Fail drank berry-browa 
 
 ale," 146 
 " The Paip, that pagan full of prid«,»« 
 
 128, 427 
 Tilmouth Chapel, 423 
 '' Trim-go-trix," 128, 146, 427 
 Trout, Scotch, 254 
 
 Unreason, Abbot of, 116, 424 
 
 Warden, Henry, 3 ; reproves Lady 
 Avenel, 8, 39 ; dislike to Roland, 31 ; 
 sermon against him, 41 
 
 White Lady of Avenel, 421 
 
 Wingate, the steward, 29 ; his policy, 
 35 ; summoned before Lady Avenel, 
 38 ; discusses Roland with Lilias, 53 ; 
 political speculations, 64 
 
 Wing-the-Wind, Michael, 164 ; conducts 
 Roland to Murray, 168 ; awakens him 
 with a commission, 194 
 
 Wolf, the staghound, 5 ; rescues Roland, 
 6 ; jealousy of him, 8 ; delight at see- 
 ing Sir Halbert, 27 
 
 Woodcock, Adam, the falconer, 33 ; 
 knocked down by Roland, 34 ; assists 
 him, 62 ; acts Aboot of Unreason, 116, 
 119 : his identity discovered, 130 ; at- 
 tends Roland, 148 ; recognized by 
 Wing-the-Wind, 164 ; carouses at St. 
 Michael's hostlery, 182 ; switched by 
 Henry Seyton, 190 ; emotion at part- 
 ing from Roland, 195 ; at Langside, 
 412; carries despatches to Roland, 
 
7f 
 
 INTRODUCTION TO KENILWORTH. 
 
 A CERTAIN degrees of success, real or supposed, in the de- 
 lineation of Queen Mary, naturally induced the Author to 
 attempt something similar respecting " her sister and her 
 foe," the celebrated Elizabeth. He will not, however, pre- 
 tend to have approached the task with the same feelings; for 
 the candid Kobertson himself confesses having felt the preju- 
 dices with which a Scottishman is tempted to regard the sub- 
 ject; and what so liberal a historian avows, a poor romance- 
 writer dares not disown. But he hopes the influence of a 
 prejudice almost as natural to him as his native air will not 
 be found to have greatly affected the sketch he has attempted 
 of England's Elizabeth. I have endeavored to describe her 
 as at once a high-minded sovereign and a female of pas- 
 sionate feelings, hesitating betwixt the sense of her rank and 
 the duty she owed her subjects on the one hand, and on the 
 other her attachment to a nobleman who, in external quali- 
 fications at least, amply merited her favor. The interest of 
 the story is thrown upon that period when the sudden death 
 of the first Countess of Leicester seemed to open to the ambi- 
 tion of her husband the opportunity of sharing the crown of 
 his sovereign. 
 
 It is possible that slander, which very seldom favors the 
 memories of persons in exalted stations, may have blackened 
 the character of Leicester with darker shades than really be- 
 longed to it. But the almost general voice of the times 
 attached the most foul suspicions to the death of the unfor- 
 tunate countess, more especially as it took place so very oppor- 
 tunely for the indulgence of her lover's ambition. If we can 
 trust Ashmole's " Antiquities of Berkshire," there was but toe 
 much ground for the traditions which charge Leicester with 
 the murder of his wife. In the following extract of the pass- 
 age the reader will find the authority I had for the story of 
 the romance: 
 
 At the west end of the church is the rnins of a manor, anciently belonging 
 (as a cell, or place of removal, as some report) to the monks of Abington. At 
 
 the Dissolution, the said manor, or lordship, was conveyed to one Owen 
 
 (I believe), the possessor of Godstow then. i. 
 
 In the hall, over the chimney, I find Abington arms cat in stone, rig, 
 
 m. 
 
IT INTROBUOTION TO KENILWORTH. 
 
 a patonee between four martletts ; and also another escotcheon, viz. a lion 
 rampant, and several miters cut in stone about the house. There is also in 
 the said house a chamber called Dudley's chamber, where the Earl of Leices- 
 ter's wife was murdered, of which this is the story following : — 
 
 Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, a very goodly personage, and singularly 
 well featured, being a great favourite to Queen Elizabeth, it was thought, and 
 commonly reported, that, had he been a batchelor or widower, the Queen 
 would have made him her husband ; to this end, to free himself of all obsta- 
 cles, he commands, or perhaps, with fair, flattering intreaties, desires his wife 
 to repose herself here at his servant Anthony Forster's house, who then lived 
 in the aforesaid manor-house ; and also prescribed to Sir Richard Varney (a 
 prompter to this design), at his coming hither, that he should first attempt to 
 poison her, and if that did not take effect, then by any other way whatsoever 
 to dispatch her. This, it seems, was proved by the report of Dr. Walter 
 Bayly, sometime fellow of New College, then living in Oxford, and professor 
 of physic in that university ; who, because he would not consent to take away 
 her life by poison, the earl endeavoured to displace him from the court. This 
 man, it seems, reported for most certain that there was a practice in Cumnor 
 among the conspirators to have poisoned this poor innocent lady a little 
 before she was killed, which was attempted after this manner : — They seeing 
 the good lady sad and heavy Tai one that well knew by her other handling 
 that her death was not far off), began to perswade her that her present disease 
 was abundance of melancholy and other humours, etc., and therefore would 
 needs counsel her to take some potion, which she absolutely refusing to do, 
 as still suspecting the worst ; whereupon they sent a messenger on a day (una- 
 wares to her) for Dr. Bayly, and intreated him to perswade her to take some 
 little potion by his direction, and they would fetch the same at Oxford ; mean- 
 ing to have added something of their own for her comfort, as the doctor upon 
 just cause and consideration did suspect, seeing their great importunity, and 
 the small need the lady had of physic, and therefore he peremptorily denied 
 iheif request ; misdoubting (as he afterwards reported) least, if they had poi- 
 soned her under the name of his potion, he might after have been hanged for 
 a colour of their sin, and the doctor remained still well assured that, this way 
 taking no effect, she would not long escape their violence, which afterwards 
 happened thus. For Sir Richard Varney above-said (the chief projector in 
 this design), who, by the earl's order, remained that day of her death alone 
 with her, with one man only and Forster, who had that day forcibly sent away 
 all her servants from her to Abington market, about 3 miles distant from 
 this place — they (I say, whether first stifling her or else strangling her) after- 
 wards flung her down a pair of stairs and broke her neck, using much violence 
 upon her ; but, however, though it was vulgarly reported that she by chance 
 fell downstairs (but yet without hui'ting her hood that was upon her head), 
 yet the inhabitants will tell you there that she was conveyed from her usual 
 chamber where she lay to another where the bed's head of the chamber stood 
 close to a privy postern door, where they in the night came and stifled her in 
 her bed, bruised her head very much, broke her neck, and at length flung her 
 downstairs, thei-eby believing the world would have thought it a mischance, 
 and so have blinded their villany. But behold the mercy and justice of God 
 in revenging and discovering this lady's murder, for one of the persons that 
 was a coadjutor in this murder was afterwards taken for a felony in the 
 marches of Wales, and offering to publish the manner of the aforesaid mur- 
 der, was privately made away in the prison by the earl's appointment ; and 
 Sir Richard Varney, the other, dying about the same time in London, cried 
 miserably, and blasphemed God, and said to a person of note (who hath re- 
 lated the same to others since), not long before his denth, that all the devils 
 in hell did tear him in pieces. Forster, likewise, after this fact, being a man 
 formerly addicted to hospitality, company, mirth, and music, was afterwards 
 observed to forsake all this, [and] with much melancholy and pensiveness 
 (some say with madness) pined and drooped away. The wife also of Bald 
 Butter, kinsman to the earl, gave out the whole fact a little before her death. 
 Neither are these following passages to be forgotten, that as soon as ever she 
 WM murdered, tbey made great haste to bury ber before the coroner had given 
 
INTRODUCTION TO KENILWORTH. ▼ 
 
 in hli Inqnest (which the earl himself condemned ai not done advisedly), 
 which her father, or Sir John Robertsett (as I suppose), hearing of, cam* 
 with all speed hither, caused her corps to be taken up, the coroner to sit 
 upon her, and further inquiry to be made concerning this business to the 
 full ; but it was generally thought that the earl stopped his mouth, and made 
 up the business betwixt them ; and the good earl, to make plain to the world 
 the great love he bare to her while alive, what a grief the loss of so virtuous a 
 lady was to his tender heart, caused (though the thing, by these and other 
 means, was beaten into the heads of the principal men of the University of 
 Oxford) her body to be reburied in St. Maries church in Oxford with great 
 pomp and solemnity. It was remarkable, when Dr. Babington (the earl'B 
 chaplain) did preach the funeral sermon, he tript once or twice in his speech, 
 by recommending to their memories that virtuous lady so pitifully murdered^ 
 instead of saying pitifully slain. This earl, after all his murders and poison- 
 ings, was himself poisoned by that which was prepared for others (some say 
 by his wife) at Cornbury Lodge before mentioned (though Baker in his chron- 
 icle would have it at Killingworth), anno 1588.* 
 
 The same accusation has been adopted and circulated by 
 the author of " Leicester's Commonwealth," a satire f writ- 
 ten directly against the Eari of Leicester, which loaded him 
 with the most horrid crimes, and, among the rest, with the 
 murder of his first wife. It was alluded to in the " York- 
 shire Tragedy,'' a play erroneously ascribed to Shakspere, 
 where a . baker, who determines to destroy all his family, 
 throws his wife downstairs, with this allusion to the sup- 
 posed murder of Leicester's lady: 
 
 The onlv way to charm a woman's tongue 
 Is, break her neck— a politician did it. 
 
 The reader will find I have borrowed several incidents as 
 well as names ij: from Asihmole and the more early authori- 
 ties; but my first acquaintance with the history was through 
 the more pleasing medium of verse. There is a period in 
 youth when the mere power of numbers has a more strong 
 effect on ear and imagination than in more advanced life. 
 At this season of immature taste the Author was greatly de- 
 lighted with the poems of Mickle and Langhorne, poets who, 
 though by no means deficient in the higher branches of their 
 art, were eminent for their powers of verbal melody above 
 most who have practiced this department of poetry. One of 
 those pieces of Mickle, which the Author was particularly 
 
 • Ashmole's " Antiquities of Berkshire," vol. i. p. 149. The tradition as to Leiceeter's 
 death was thns commnnicated by Ben Jonaon to Drnmmond of Hawthornden : " The 
 Earl of Leicester gave a bottle of liqnor to his lady, which he willed her to use in any 
 faintness, which she, after his return from court, not knowing it was poison, gave him, 
 and so he died."— Ben Jonson's** Information to Drummond of Hawthornden," MS. 
 Sir Robert Sibliald's copy. 
 
 tThis satire was written by the notorious Jesuit, Robert Parsons, and was largely 
 copied by Ashmole in his " Antiquities." These authorities were perhaps too much 
 relied upon by the Author.— Zain<7. 
 
 t See Lockhart's " Life of Scott," vol. vi. pp. 268, 294. 
 
vili nfTRODTIGTION TO KENILWORTK 
 
 The death-bell thrice was heard to ring, 
 An aerial voice was heard to call. 
 
 And thrice the raven flapp'd its wine 
 Around the towers of Cumnor Hall. 
 
 The mastiff liowl'd at villap:e door, 
 The oaks vv<r<5 slnitterM on the green; 
 
 Woe was the liour— for never more 
 That hapless countess e'er was seenl 
 
 And in that manor now no more 
 Is cheerful feast and sprightly ball; 
 
 For ever since that dreary hour 
 Have spirits haunted Cumnor Hall. 
 
 The village maids, with fearful glance. 
 Avoid the ancient moss-grown wall • 
 
 Nor ever lead the merry dance, 
 
 Among the groves of Cumnor Hall. 
 
 Poll many a traveler oft hath sigh'd. 
 
 And pensive wept the countees' fall, 
 As wand'rmg onwards they've espied 
 
 The haunted towers of Cumnor T 
 
 ikBBOTsroRD, l$t March^ 1881. 
 
KENILWORTH, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 I am an innkeeper, and know my gronnds, 
 And study them— brain o' man, I study them. 
 I must have jovial guests to drive my plows, 
 And whistling boys to bring my harvest home, 
 Or I shall hear no flails thwack. 
 
 — The New Inn. 
 
 It is the privilege of tale-tellers to open their story in an 
 inn, the free rendezvous of all travelers, and where the humor 
 of each displays itself without ceremony or restraint. This is 
 specially suitable when the scene is laid during the old days of 
 merry England, when the guests were in some sort not merely 
 the inmates, but the messmates and temporary companions, 
 of mine host, who was usually a personage of privileged free- 
 dom, comely presence, and good humor. Patronized by him, 
 the characters of the company were placed in ready contrast; 
 and they seldom failed, during the emptying of a six-hooped 
 pot, to throw off reserve, and present themselves to each other 
 and to their landlord with the freedom of old acquaintance. 
 
 The village of Cumnor, within three or four miles of Ox- 
 ford, boasted, during the eighteenth of Queen Elizabeth, an 
 excellent inn of the old stamp, conducted, or rather ruled, by 
 Giles Gosling, a man of a goodly person and of somewhat 
 round belly, fifty years of age and upwards, moderate in his 
 reckonings, prompt in his payments, having a cellar of sound 
 liquor, a ready wit, and a pretty daughter. Since the days of 
 old Harry Baillie of the Tabard in Southwark, no one had 
 excelled Giles Gosling in the power of pleasing his guests of 
 every description; and so great was his fame, that to have 
 been in Cumnor without wetting a cup at the bonny Black 
 Bear would have been to avouch one's self utterly indifferent 
 to reputation as a traveler. A country fellow might as well 
 return from London without looking in the face of majesty. 
 The men of Cumnor were proud of their host, and their host 
 was proud of his house, his liquor, his daughter, and himself. 
 
S WA YEBLET NO VEL8. 
 
 It was in the courtyard of the inn which called this honest 
 fellow landlord that a traveler alighted in the close of the 
 evening, gave his horse, which seemed to have made a long 
 journey, to the hostler, and made some inquiry, which pro- 
 duced the following dialogue betwixt the myrmidons of the 
 bonny Black Bear: 
 
 "What, ho! John Tapster/' 
 
 "At hand. Will Hostler," replied the man of the spigot, 
 showing himself in his costume of loose jacket, linen breeches, 
 and green apron, half within and half without a door, which 
 appeared to descend to an outer cellar. 
 
 " Here is a gentleman asks if you draw good ale," continued 
 the hostler. 
 
 " Beshrew my heart else," answered the tapster, " since 
 there are but four miles betwixt us and Oxford. Marry, if 
 my ale did not convince the heads of the scholars, they would 
 soon convince my pate with the pewter flagon." 
 
 " Call you that Oxford logic ? " said the stranger, who had 
 now quitted the rein of his horse, and was advancing toward 
 the inn door, when he was encountered by the goodly form of 
 Giles Gosling himself. 
 
 " Is it logic you talk of, sir guest? " said the host; "why, 
 then, have at you with a downright consequence: 
 
 *' The horse to the rack, 
 And to fire with the sack." 
 
 ** Amen! with all my heart, my good host," said the stran- 
 ger; "let it be a quart of your best Canaries, and give me 
 your good help to drink it." 
 
 " Nay, you are but in your accidence yet, sir traveler, if you 
 call on your host for help for such a sipping matter as a quart 
 of sack; were it a gallon, you might lack some neighborly aid 
 at my hand, and yet call yourself a toper." 
 
 " Fear me not," said the guest, " I will do my devoir as be- 
 comes a man who finds himself within five miles of Oxford; 
 for I am not come from the field of Mars to discredit myself 
 amongst the followers of Minerva." 
 
 As he spoke thus, the landlord, with much semblance of 
 hearty welcome, ushered his guest into a large low chamber, 
 where several persons were seated together in different parties 
 — some drinking, some playing at cards, some conversing, and 
 some, whose business called them to be early risers on the 
 morrow, concluding their evening meal, and conferring with 
 the chamberlain about their night's quarters. 
 
KBNILWORTH. *3 
 
 The entrance of a stranger procured him that general and 
 careless sort of attention which is usually paid on such occa- 
 sions, from which the following results were deduced: The 
 guest was one of those who, with a well-made person, and 
 features not in themselves unpleasing, are nevertheless so far 
 from handsome that, whether from the expression of their 
 features, or the tone of their voice, or from their gait and 
 manner, there arises, on the whole, a disinclination to their 
 society. The stranger's address was bold, without being 
 frank, and seemed eagerly and hastily to claim for him a de- 
 gree of attention and deference, wMch he feared would be 
 refused, if not instantly vindicated as his right. His attire 
 was a riding-cloak, which, when open, displayed a handsome 
 jerkin overlaid with lace, and belted with a buff girdle, which 
 sustained a broadsword and a pair of pistols. 
 
 ^^ You ride well provided, sir," said the host, looking at the 
 weapons as he placed on the table the mulled sack which the 
 traveler had ordered. *- 
 
 " Yes, mine host; I have found the use on't in dangerous 
 times, and I do not, like your modem grandees, turn off my 
 followers the instant "they are useless." 
 
 "Aye, sir?" said Giles Gosling; "then you are from the 
 Low Countries, the land of pike and caliver? " 
 
 " I have been high and low, my friend, broad and wide, far 
 and near. But here is to thee in a cup of thy sack; fill thy- 
 self another to pledge me; and, if it is less than superlative, 
 e'en drink as you have brewed." 
 
 "Less than superlative!" said Giles Gosling, drinking off 
 the cup, and smacking his lips with an air of ineffable relish 
 — " I know nothing of superlative, nor is there such a wine at 
 the Three Cranes, in the Vintry, to my knowledge; but if you 
 find better sack than that in the Sheres, or in the Canaries 
 either, I would I may never touch either pot or penny more. 
 "Why, hold it up betwixt you and the light, you shall see the 
 little motes dance in the golden liquor like dust in the sun- 
 beam. But I would rather draw wine for ten clowns than 
 one traveler. I trust your honor likes the wine? " 
 
 " It is neat and comfortable, mine host; but to know good 
 liquor you should drink where the vine grows. Trust me, 
 your Spaniard is too wise a man to send you the very soul of 
 the grape. Why, this now, which you account so choice, 
 were counted but as a cup of bastard at the Groyne or at Port 
 St. Mary's. You should travel, mine host, if you would be 
 deep in the mysteries of the butt and pottle-pot." 
 
4 WAVBRLET NOVELS. 
 
 *' In troth. Signer Guest/' said Giles Gosling, " if I were to 
 travel only that I might be discontented with that which I 
 can get at home, methinks I should go but on a fool's errand. 
 Besides, I warrant you, there is many a fool can turn his nose 
 up at good drink without ever having been out of the smoke 
 of Old England; and so ever gramercy mine own fireside." 
 
 " This is but a mean mind of yours, mine host," said the 
 stranger. " I warrant me, all your townsfolk do not think so 
 basely. You have gallants among you, I dare imdertake, 
 that have made the Virginia voyage, or taken a turn in the 
 Low Countries at least. Come, cudgel your memory. Have 
 you no friends in foreign parts that you would gladly have 
 tidings of? " 
 
 " Troth, sir, not 1" answered the host, " since ranting 
 Eobin of Drysandf ord was shot at the siege of the Brill. The 
 devil take the caliver that fired the ball, for a blither lad 
 never filled a cup at midnight! But he is dead and gone, and 
 I know not a soldier, or a traveler, who is a soldier's mate, 
 that I would give a peeled codling for." 
 
 " By the mass, that is strange. What! so many of our 
 brave English hearts are abroad, and you, who seem to be a 
 man of mark, have no friend, no kinsman, among them? " 
 
 "Nay, if you speak of kinsmen," answered Gosling, "I 
 have one wild slip of a kinsman, who left us in the last year 
 of Queen Mary; but he is better lost than found." 
 
 " Do not say so, friend, unless you have heard ill of him 
 lately. Many a wild colt has turned out a noble steed. His 
 name, I pray you? " 
 
 " Michael Lamboume," answered the landlord of the Black 
 Bear, " a son of my sister's; there is little pleasure in recollect- 
 ing either the name or the connection." 
 
 " Michael Lambourne! " said the stranger, as if endeavor- 
 ing to recollect himself, " what, no relation to Michael Lam- 
 boume, the gallant cavalier who behaved so bravely at the 
 siege of Venlo that Grave Maurice thanked him at the head 
 of the army? Men said he was an EngHsh cavalier, and of 
 no high extraction." 
 
 " It could scarcely be my nephew," said Giles Gosling, " for 
 he had not the courage of a hen-partridge for aught but 
 ondschief." 
 
 " Oh, many a man finds courage in the wars," replied the 
 stranger. 
 
 " It may be," said the landlord; " but I would have thought 
 our Mike more likely to lose the little he had." 
 
KENILWORTK M 
 
 "Tlie Michael Lamboume whom I knew," continued the 
 traveler, "was a likely fellow: went always gay and well- 
 attired, and had a hawk's eye after a pretty wench." 
 
 " Our Michael," replied the host, " had the look of a dog 
 with a bottle at its tail, and wore a coat every rag of which 
 was bidding good-day to the rest." 
 
 " Oh, men pick up good apparel in the wars," replied the 
 guest. 
 
 " Our Mike," answered the landlord, " was more like to 
 pick it up in a frippery warehouse, while the broker was look- 
 ing another way; and, for the hawk's eye you talk of, his was 
 always after my stray spoons. He was tapster's boy here in 
 this blessed house for a quarter of a year; and between mis- 
 reckonings, miscarriages, mistakes, and misdemeanors, had 
 he dwelt with me for three months longer, I might have 
 pulled down sign, shut up house, and given the devil the key 
 to keep." 
 
 "You would be sorry, after all," continued the traveler, 
 "were I to tell you poor Mike Lamboume was shot at the 
 head of his regiment at the taking of a sconce near 
 Maestricht? " 
 
 " Sorry! it would be the blithest news I ever heard of him, 
 since it would insure me he was not hanged. But let him 
 pass, I doubt his end will never do such credit to his friends; 
 were it so, I should say [taking another cup of sack], ' Here's 
 God rest him,' with all my heart." 
 
 " Tush, man," replied the traveler, " never fear but you 
 will have credit by your nephew yet; especially if he be the 
 Michael Lamboume whom I knew and loved very nearly, or 
 altogether, as well as myself. Can you tell me no mark by 
 which I could judge whether they be the same? " 
 
 " Faith, none that I can think of," answered Giles Gosling, 
 "unless that our Mike had the gallows branded on his left 
 shoulder for stealing a silver caudle-cup from Dame Snort of 
 Hogsditch." 
 
 " Nay, there you lie like a knave, uncle," said the stranger, 
 slipping aside his ruff, and turning down the sleeve of his 
 doublet from his neck and shoulder; " by this good day, my 
 shoulder is as unscarred as thine own." 
 
 " What, Mike, boy — Mike! " exclaimed the host; " and is it 
 thou in good earnest? Nay, I have judged so for this half- 
 hour, for I knew no other person -vfould have ta'en half the 
 interest in thee. But, Mike, an thy shoulder be unscathed as 
 thou sayest, thou must own that Goodman Thong, the hang- 
 
IP WA VEBLET NOVELS. 
 
 man, was merciful in his office, and stamped thee with a cold 
 iron." 
 
 " Tush, uncle, truce with your jests. Keep them to season 
 your sour ale, and let us see what hearty welcome thou wilt 
 give a kinsman who has rolled the world around for eighteen 
 years; who has seen the sun set where it rises, and has traveled 
 till the west has hecome the east." 
 
 " Thou hast brought back one traveler's gift with thee, 
 Mike, as I well see; and that was what thou least didst need to 
 travel for. I remember well, among thine other qualities, 
 there was no crediting a word which came from thy 
 mouth." 
 
 " Here's an unbelieving pagan for you, gentlemen! " said 
 Michael Lamboume, turning to those who witnessed this 
 strange interview betwixt uncle and nephew, some of whom, 
 being natives of the village, were no strangers to his juvenile 
 wildness. " This may be called slaying a Cumnor fatted calf 
 for me with a vengeance. But, uncle, I come not from the 
 husks and the swine-trough, and I care not for thy welcome 
 or no welcome; I carry that with me will make me welcome, 
 wend where I will." 
 
 So saying, he pulled out a purse of gold, indifferently well 
 filled, the sight of which produced a visible effect upon the 
 company. Some shook their heads, and whispered to each 
 other, while one or two of the less scrupulous speedily began 
 to recollect him as a school-companion, a townsman, or so 
 forth. On the other hand, two or three grave, sedate-looking 
 persons shook their heads, and left the inn, hinting that, if 
 Giles Gosling wished to continue to thrive, he should turn his 
 thriftless, godless nephew adrift again as soon as he could. 
 Gosling demeaned himself as if he were much of the same 
 opinion; for even the sight of the gold made less impression 
 on the honest gentleman than it usually doth upon one of his 
 calling. 
 
 " Kinsman Michael," he said, " put up thy purse. My sis- 
 ter's son shall be called to no reckoning in my house for sup- 
 per or lodging; and I reckon thou wilt hardly wish to stay 
 longer, where thou art e'en but too well known." 
 
 "For that matter, uncle," replied the traveler, "I shall 
 consult my own needs and conveniences. Meantime, I wish 
 to give the supper and sleeping-cup to those good townsmen: 
 who are not too proud to remember Mike Lambourne, the 
 tapster's boy. If you will let me have entertainment for my 
 money, soj if not, it is but a short two minutes' walk to the 
 
KENILWORTH. 7 
 
 Hare and Tabor, and I trust our neighbors will not grndge 
 going thus far with me." 
 
 " Nay, Mike," replied his uncle, " as eighteen years have 
 gone over thy head, and I trust thou art somewhat amended 
 in thy conditions, thou shalt not leave my house at this hour, 
 and shalt e'en have whatever in reason you list to call for. 
 But I would I knew that that purse of thine, which thou 
 vaporest of, were as well come by as it seems well filled." 
 
 " Here is an infidel for you, my good neighbors! " said 
 Lambourne, again appealing to the audience. " Here's a fel- 
 low will rip up his kinsman's follies of a good score of years' 
 standing. And for the gold, why, sirs, I have been where it 
 grew, and was to be had for the gathering. In the New 
 World have I been, man — in the Eldorado, where urchins 
 play at cherry-pit with diamonds, and country wenches thread 
 rubies for necklaces, instead of rowan-tree berries; where the 
 pantiles are made of pure gold, and the paving-stones of 
 virgin silver." 
 
 " By my credit, friend Mike," said young Laurence Gold- 
 thred, the cutting mercer of Abingdon, " that were a likely 
 coast to trade to. And what may lawns, cypruses, and 
 ribands fetch where gold is so plenty? " 
 
 " Oh, the profit were unutterable," replied Lambourne, 
 ** especially when a handsome young merchant bears the pack 
 himself; for the ladies of that clime are bona-robas, and being 
 themselves somewhat sunburnt, they catch fire like tinder at 
 a fresh complexion like thine, with a head of hair inclining to 
 be red." 
 
 "I would I might trade thither," said the mercer, chuckling. 
 
 " Why, and so thou mayst," said Michael; " that is, if thou 
 art the same brisk boy who was partner with me at robbing 
 the abbot's orchard: 'tis but a little touch of alchemy to de- 
 coct thy house and land into ready money, and that ready 
 money into a tall ship, with sails, anchors, cordage, and all 
 things conforming; then clap thy warehouse of goods under 
 hatches, put fifty good fellows on deck, with myself to com- 
 mand them, and so hoist topsails, and hey for the New 
 World! " 
 
 *^ Thou hast taught him a secret, kinsman," said Giles Gos- 
 ling, *' to decoct, an that be the word, his p'ound into a penny, 
 and his webs into a thread. Take a fool's advice, neighbor 
 Goldthred. Tempt not the sea, for she is a devourer. Let 
 cards and cockatrices do their worst, thy father's bales may 
 bide a banging for a year or two, ere thou comest to the spital; 
 
8 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 but the sea hath a bottomless appetite: she would swallow the 
 wealth of Lombard Street in a morning as easily as I would a 
 poached Qgg and a cup of clary; and for my kinsman^s Eldo- 
 rado, never trust me if I do not believe he has found it in the 
 pouches of some such gulls as thyself. But take no snuff in 
 the nose about it; fall to and welcome, for here comes the sup- 
 per, and I heartily bestow it on all that will take share, in 
 honor of my hopeful nephew's return, always trusting that 
 he has come home another man. In faith, kinsman, thou art 
 as Hke my poor sister as ever was son to mother.'' 
 
 " Not quite so like old Benedict Lambourne her husband, 
 though," said the mercer, nodding and winking. "Dost thou 
 remember, Mike, what thou saidst when the schoolmaster's 
 ferule was over thee for striking up thy father's crutches? 
 * It is a wise child,' saidst thou, * that knows its own father.' 
 Dr. Bricham laughed till he cried again, and his crying saved 
 yours." 
 
 " Well, he made it up to me many a day after," said Lam- 
 bourne; " and how is the worthy pedagogue? " 
 
 " Dead," said Giles Gosling, " this many a day since." 
 
 " That he is," said the clerk of the parish; " I sat by his 
 bed the whilst. He passed away in a blessed frame, ' Morior 
 — mortuus sum vel fui — mori ' — these were his latest words, 
 and he just added, * My last verb is conjugated.' " 
 
 " Well, peace be with him," said Mike, " he owes me noth- 
 ing." 
 
 " No, truly," replied Goldthred; " and every lash which he 
 laid on thee, he always was wont to say, he spared the hang- 
 man a labor." 
 
 " One would have thought he left him little to do then," 
 said the clerk; " and yet Goodman Thong had no sinecure of 
 it with our friend, after all." 
 
 " Voto a Dios I " exclaimed Lambourne, his patience ap- 
 pearing to fail him, as he snatched his broad slouched hat 
 from the table and placed it on his head, so that the shadow 
 gave the sinister expression of a Spanish bravo to eyes and 
 features which naturally boded nothing pleasant. " Harkee, 
 my masters, all is fair among friends, and under the rose, and 
 I have already permitted my worthy uncle here, and all of 
 you, to use your pleasure with the frolics of my nonage. But 
 1 carry sword and dagger, my good friends, and can use them 
 lightly too upon occasion. I have learned to be dangerous 
 upon points of honor ever since I served the Spaniard, and I 
 would not have you provoke me to the degree of falling foul." 
 
KBNILWORTH. t 
 
 ** Why, what would you do? " said the clerk. 
 
 " Aye, sir, what would you do? " said the mercer, bustling 
 up on the other side of the table. 
 
 " Slit your throat and spoil your Sunday's quavering, sir 
 clerk," said Lamboume fiercely; '^ cudgel you, my worshipful 
 dealer in flimsy sarsenets, into one of your own bales." 
 
 " Come — come," said the host, interposing, " I will have no 
 swaggering here. Nephew, it will become you best to show 
 no haste to take offense; and you, gentlemen, will do well to 
 remember that, if you are in an inn, still you are the inn- 
 keeperis guests, and should spare the honor of his family. I 
 protest your silly broils make me as oblivious as yourself; for 
 yonder sits my silent guest, as I call him, who hath been my 
 two days' inmate, and hath never spoken a word, save to ask 
 for his food and his reckoning; gives no more trouble than a 
 very peasant; pays his shot like a prince royal; looks but at 
 the sum total of the reckoning, and does not know what day 
 he shall go away. Oh, 'tis a jewel of a guest! and yet, hang- 
 dog that I am, I have suffered him to sit by himself like a 
 castaway in yonder obscure nook, without so much as asking 
 him to take bite or sup along with us. It were but the right 
 guerdon of my incivility were he to set off to the Hare and 
 Tabor before the night grows older." 
 
 With his white napkin gracefully arranged over his left 
 arm, his velvet cap laid aside for the moment, and his best sil- 
 ver flagon in his right hand, mine host walked up to the soli- 
 tary guest whom he mentioned, and thereby turned upon him 
 the eyes of the assembled company. 
 
 He was a man aged betwixt twenty-five and thirty, rather 
 above the middle size, dressed with plainness and decency, 
 yet bearing an air of ease which almost amounted to dignity, 
 and which seemed to infer that his habit was rather beneath 
 his rank. His countenance was reserved and thoughtful, 
 with dark hair and dark eyes — the last, upon any momentary 
 excitement, sparkled with uncommon luster, but on other 
 occasions had the same meditative and tranquil cast which 
 was exhibited by his features. The busy curiosity of the 
 little village had been employed to discover his name and 
 quality, as well as his business at Cumnor; but nothing had 
 transpired on either subject which could lead to its gratifica- 
 tion. Giles Gosling, head-borough of the place, and a steady 
 friend to Queen Elizabeth and the Protestant religion, was at 
 one time inclined to suspect his guest of being a Jesuit, or 
 seminary priest, of whom Rome and Spain sent at this time so 
 
10 WA VBRLEY NO VEL8. 
 
 many to grace the gallows in England. But it was scarce 
 possible to retain such, a prepossession against a guest who 
 gave so Uttle trouble, paid his reckoning so regularly, and 
 who proposed, as it seemed, to make a considerable stay at 
 the bonny Black Bear. 
 
 "Papists," argued Giles Gosling, "are a pinching, close- 
 fisted race, and this man would have found a lodging with the 
 wealthy squire at Bessellsley, or with the old knight at Woot- 
 ton, or in some other of their Roman dens, instead of living 
 in a house of public entertainment, as every honest man and 
 good Christian should. Besides, on Friday, he stuck by the 
 salt beef and carrot, though there were as good spitchcocked 
 eels on the board as ever were ta'en out of the Isis." 
 
 Honest Giles, therefore, satisfied himself that his guest was 
 no Roman, and with all comely courtesy besought the stran- 
 ger to pledge him in a draught of the cool tankard, and 
 honor with his attention a small collation which he was giv- 
 ing to his nephew in honor of his return, and, as he verily 
 hoped, of his reformation. The stranger at first shook his 
 head as if declining the courtesy; but mine host proceeded to 
 urge him with arguments founded on the credit of his house, 
 and the construction which the good people of Cumnor might 
 put upon such an unsocial humor. 
 
 "By my faith, sir," he said, "it touches my reputation 
 that men should be merry in my house, and we have ill 
 tongues amongst us at Cumnor — as where be there not? — who 
 put an evil mark on men who pull their hat over their brows 
 as if they were looking back to the days that are gone, instead 
 of enjoying the blithe sunshiny weather which God has sent 
 us in the sweet looks of our sovereign mistress. Queen EUza- 
 beth, whom Heaven long bless and preserve! " 
 
 "Why, mine host," answered the stranger, "there is no 
 treason, sure, in a man's enjoying his own thoughts under the 
 shadow of his own bonnet? You have lived in the world 
 twice as long as I have, and you must know there are thoughts 
 that will haunt us in spite of ourselves, and to which it is in 
 vain to say, ' Begone, and let me be merry.' " 
 
 " By my sooth," answered Giles Gosling, " if such trouble- 
 some thoughts haunt your mind, and will not get them gone 
 for plain English, we will have one of Father Bacon's pupils 
 from Oxford to conjure them away with logic and with He- 
 brew. Or, what say you to laying them in a glorious red sea 
 of claret, my noble guest? Come, sir, excuse my freedom. 
 I am an old host, and must have my talk. This peevish hu- 
 
KEmLWOBTS. 11 
 
 mor of melancholy sits ill upon you: it suits not with a sleek 
 boot, a hat of a trim block, a fresh cloak, and a full purse. A 
 pize on it! send it off to those who have their legs swathed 
 with a haywisp, their heads thatched with a felt bonnet, their 
 jerkin as thin as a cobweb, and their pouch without ever a 
 cross to keep the fiend Melancholy from dancing in it. Cheer 
 up, sir! or, by this good liquor, we will banish thee from the 
 joys of blithesome company into the mists of melancholy and 
 the land of little-ease. Here be a set of good fellows willing 
 to be merry; do not scowl on them like the devil looking over 
 Lincoln." 
 
 " You say well, my worthy host," said the guest, with a 
 melancholy smile, which, melancholy as it was, gave a very 
 pleasant expression to his countenance — "you say well, my 
 jovial friend; and they that are moody like myself should not 
 disturb the mirth of those who are happy. I will drink a 
 round with your guests with all my heart, rather than be 
 termed a mar-feast." 
 
 So saying, he arose and joined the company, who, encour- 
 aged by the precept and example of Michael Lamboume, and 
 consisting chiefly of persons much disposed to profit by the 
 opportunity of a merry meal at the expense of their landlord, 
 had already made some inroads upon the limits of temper- 
 ance, as was evident from the tone in which Michael inquired 
 after his old acquaintances in the town, and the bursts of 
 laughter with which each answer was received. Giles Gos- 
 ling himself was somewhat scandalized at the obstreperous 
 nature of their mirth, especially as he involuntarily felt some 
 reject for his unknown guest. He paused, therefore, at 
 some distance from the table occupied by these noisy revelers, 
 and began to make a sort of apology for their license. 
 
 " You would think," he said, " to hear these fellows talk, 
 that there was not one of them who had not been bred to live 
 by ' Stand and deliver '; and yet to-morrow you will find them 
 a set of as painstaking mechanics, and so forth, as ever cut 
 an inch short of measure, or paid a letter of change in light 
 crowns over a counter. The mercer there wears his hat awry, 
 over a shagged head of hair, that looks like a curly water- 
 dog's back, goes unbraced, wears his cloak on one side, and 
 affects a ruffianly, vaporing humor; when in his shop at 
 Abingdon, he is, from his flat cap to his glistening shoes, as 
 precise in his apparel as if he was named for mayor. He 
 talks of breaking parks, and taking the highway, in such 
 fashion that you would think he haunted every night betwixt 
 
la WAVERLET N0VEL8. 
 
 Hounslow and London, when in fact he may be found sound 
 asleep on his feather-bed, with a candle placed beside him on 
 one side, and a Bible on the other, to fright away the goblins." 
 
 "And your nephew, mine host — this same Michael Lam- 
 boume, who is lord of the feast — ^is he too such an would-be 
 ruffler as the rest of them? " 
 
 "Why, there you push me hard," said the host; "my 
 nephew is my nephew, and though he was a desperate Dick of 
 yore, yet Mike may have mended like other folks, you wot. 
 And I would not have you think all I said of him even now 
 was strict gospel: I knew the wag all the while, and wished to 
 pluck his plumes from him. And now, sir, by what name 
 shall I present my worshipful ^est to these gallants? " 
 
 " Marry, mine host," replied the stranger, " you may call 
 me Tressilian." 
 
 " Tressilian! " answered mine host of the Bear, " a worthy 
 name, and, as I think, of Cornish lineage; for what says the 
 south proverb: 
 
 *« By Pol, Tre, and Pen, 
 You may know the Cornish men. 
 
 Shall I say the worthy Mr. Tressilian of Cornwall? " 
 
 " Say no more than I have given you warrant for, mine 
 host, and so shall you be sure you speak no more than is true. 
 A man may have one of those honorable prefixes to his name, 
 yet be born far from St. Michael's Mount." 
 
 Mine host pushed his curiosity no farther, but presented 
 Mr. Tressilian to his nephew's company, who, after exchange 
 of salutations, and drinking to the health of their new com- 
 panion, pursued the conversation in which he found them en- 
 gaged, seasoning it with many an intervening pledge. 
 
CHAPTER n. 
 
 Talk you of young Master Lancelot ? 
 
 —Merchant of Venice. 
 
 After some brief interval, Master Goldthred, at the ear- 
 nest instigation of mine host, and the joyous concurrence of 
 his guests, indulged the company with the following morsel 
 of melody: 
 
 " Of all the bird! on bnsh or tree, 
 
 Commend me to the owl, 
 Since he may best ensample be 
 
 To those the cup that trowl. 
 For when the sun hath left the west, 
 He chooses the tree that he loves the best. 
 And he whoops out his song, and he laughs at hii j«ii \ 
 Then though hours be late, and weather foul, 
 We'll drink to the health of the bonny, bonny owL 
 
 " The lark is but a bumpkin fowl, 
 He sleeps in his nest till morn ; 
 But my blessing upon the jolly owl, 
 That all night blows his horn. 
 Then up with your cup till you stagger in speech, 
 And match me this catch till you swagger and screech, 
 And drink till you wink, my merry men each ; 
 For though hours be late, and weather be foul, 
 We'll drink to the health of the bonny, bonny owl." 
 
 " There is savor in this, my hearts," said Michael, when the* 
 mercer had finished his song, " and some goodness seems left 
 among you yet; but what a bead-roll you have read me of old 
 comrades, and to every man's name tacked some ill-omened 
 motto! And so Swashing Will of Wallingford hath bid us 
 good-night? " 
 
 " He died the death of a fat buck," said one of the party, 
 '^ being shot with a cross-bow bolt, by old Thatcham, the 
 Duke's stout park-keeper at Donnington Castle." 
 
 " Aye, aye, he always loved venison well," replied Michael, 
 " and a cup of claret to boot; and so here's one to his memory. 
 Do me right, my masters." 
 
 When the memory of this departed worthy had been duly 
 honored, Lambourne proceeded to inquire after Prance of 
 Padworth. 
 
 "Pranced off — ^made immortal ten years since," said the 
 
 11 
 
14 ^A VEBLEY NO VELS, 
 
 mercer; '* marry, sir, Oxford Castle and Goodman Thong, and 
 a tenpenny-worth of cord, best know how." 
 
 "What, so they hung poor Prance high and dry? So much 
 for loving to walk by moonlight! A cup to his memory, my 
 masters; all merry fellows like moonlight. What has become 
 of Hal with the Plume? he who lived near Yattendon, and 
 wore the long feather — I forget his name." 
 
 "What, Hal Hempseed?" replied the mercer, "why, you 
 may remember he was a sort of a gentleman, and would 
 meddle in state matters, and so he got into the mire about the 
 Duke of Norfolk's affair these two or three years since, fled 
 the country with a pursuivant's warrant at his heels, and has 
 never since been heard of." 
 
 " Nay, after these balks," said Michael Lambourne, " I 
 need hardly inquire after Tony Foster; for when ropes, and 
 cross-bow shafts, and pursuivants' warrants, and such-like 
 gear were so rife, Tony could hardly 'scape them." 
 
 " Which Tony Foster mean you? " said the innkeeper. 
 
 "Why, he they called Tony Fire-the-Fagot, because he 
 brought a light to kindle the pile round Latimer and Eidley, 
 when the wind blew out Jack Thong's torch, and no man else 
 would give him light for love or money." 
 
 " Tony Foster lives and thrives," said the host. " But, 
 kinsman, I would not have you call him Tony Fire-the-Fagot 
 if you would not brook the stab." 
 
 "How! is he grown ashamed on't?" said Lambourne, 
 " why, he was wont to boast of it, and say he liked as well to 
 see a roasted heretic as a roasted ox." 
 
 " Aye, but, kinsman, that was in Mary's time," replied the 
 landlord, " when Tony's father was reeve here to the abbot of 
 Abingdon. But since that, Tony married a pure precisian, 
 and is as good a Protestant, I warrant you, as the best." 
 
 " And looks grave, and holds his head high, and scorns his 
 old companions," said the mercer. 
 
 " Then he hath prospered, I warrant him," said Lam- 
 bourne; " for ever when a man hath got nobles of his own he 
 keeps out of the way of those whose exchequers lie in other 
 men's purchase." 
 
 " Prospered, quotha! " said the mercer; "why, you remem- 
 ber Cumnor Place, the old mansion-house beside the church- 
 yard?" 
 
 "By the same token, I robbed the orchard three times — 
 what of that? It was the old abbot's residence when there 
 was plague or sickness at Abingdon." 
 
KEmLWORTH. 
 
 IS 
 
 '* Aye/* said the host, '^ but that has been long over; and 
 Anthony Foster hath a right in it, and lives there by some 
 grant from a great courtier, who had the church lands from 
 the crown; and there he dwells, and has as little to do with 
 any poor wight in Cumnor as if he were himself a belted 
 knight." 
 
 "Nay," said the mercer, "it is not altogether pride in 
 Tony neither: there is a fair lady in the case, and Tony will 
 scarce let the light of day look on her." 
 
 " How! " said Tressilian, who now for the first time inter- 
 fered in their conversation, " did ye not say this Foster was 
 married, and to a precisian? " 
 
 " Married he was, and to as bitter a precisian as ever eat 
 flesh in Lent; and a cat-and-dog life she led with Tony, as 
 men said. But she is dead, rest be with her, and Tony hath 
 but a slip of a daughter; so it is thought he means to wed 
 this stranger, that men keep such a coil about." 
 
 "And why so? I mean, why do they keep a coil about 
 her? " said Tressilian. 
 
 "Why, I wot not," answered the host, "except that men 
 say she is as beautifuras an angel, and no one knows whence 
 she comes, and everyone wishes to know why she is kept so 
 closely mewed up. For my part, I never saw her; you have, 
 I think, Master Goldthred?" 
 
 " That I have, old boy," said the mercer. " Look you, I 
 was riding hither from Abingdon — I passed under the east 
 oriel windows of the old mansion, where all the old saints and 
 histories and such-like are painted. It was not the common 
 path I took, but one through the park; for the postern door 
 was upon the latch, and I thought I might take the privilege 
 of an old comrade to ride across through the trees, both for 
 shading, as the day was somewhat hot, and for avoiding of 
 dust, because I had on my peach-colored doublet, pinked out 
 with cloth of gold." 
 
 "Which garment," said Michael Lamboume, "thou 
 wouldst willingly make twinkle in the eyes of a fair dame. 
 Ah, villain! thou wilt never leave thy old tricks." 
 
 " Not so — not so," said the mercer, with a smirking laugh 
 — "not altogether so; but curiosity, thou knowest, and a 
 strain of compassion withal, for the poor young lady sees 
 nothing from mom to even but Tony Foster, with his scowl- 
 ing black brows, his bull's head, and his bandy legs." 
 
 " And thou wouldst willingly show her a dapper body, in 
 A silken jerkin; a limb Uke a short-legged hen's, in a cordovan 
 
W WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 boot; and a round, simpering, what-d'ye lack sort of a coun- 
 tenance, set off with a velvet bonnet, a Turkey feather, and a 
 gilded brooch? Ah, jolly mercer! they who have good wares 
 are fond to show them! Come, gentles, let not the cup stand 
 — here's to long spurs, short boots, full bonnets, and empty 
 skulls! " 
 
 " Nay, now you are jealous of me, Mike," said Goldthred; 
 *' and yet my luck was but what might have happened to thee, 
 or any man." 
 
 " Marry, confound thine impudence," retorted Lamboume; 
 "thou wouldst not compare thy pudding face and sarsenet 
 manners to a gentleman and a soldier? " 
 
 " Nay, my good sir," said Tressihan, " let me beseech you 
 will not interrupt the gallant citizen; methinks he tells his 
 tale so well, I could hearken to him till midnight." 
 
 "It's more of your favor than of my desert," answered 
 Master Goldthred; "but since I give you pleasure, worthy 
 Master Tressilian, I shall proceed, mauger all the gibes and 
 quips of this valiant soldier, who, peradventure, hath had 
 more cuffs than crowns in the Low Countries. And so, sir, 
 as I passed under the great painted window, leaving my rein 
 loose on my ambling palfrey's neck, partly for mine ease, and 
 partly that I might have the more leisure to peer about, I 
 hears me the lattice open; and never credit me, sir, if there 
 did not stand there the person of as fair a woman as ever 
 crossed mine eyes; and I think I have looked on as many 
 pretty wenches, and with as much judgment, as other folks." 
 
 " May I ask her appearance, sir? " said Tressilian. 
 
 " Oh, sir," replied Master Goldthred, " I promise you, she 
 was in gentlewoman's attire — a very quaint and pleasing 
 dress, that might have served the Queen herself; for she had a 
 forepart with body and sleeves, of ginger-colored satin, which, 
 in my judgment, must have cost by the yard some thirty shil- 
 lings, lined with murrey taffeta, and laid down and guarded 
 with two broad laces of gold and silver. And her hat, sir, 
 was truly the best-fashioned thing that I have seen in these 
 parts, being of tawny taffeta, embroidered with scorpions of 
 Venice gold, and having a border garnished with gold fringe 
 — I promise you, sir, an absolute and all-surpassing device. 
 Touching her skirts, they were in the old pass-devant 
 fashion." 
 
 " I did not ask you of her attire, sir," said Tressilian, who 
 had shown some impatience during this conversation, " but of 
 ^ejr complexion, the cplor of her hair, her features," 
 
KBNILWORTH. 11 
 
 " Touching her complexioii/' answered the mercer, '* I am 
 not so special certain; but I marked that her fan had an ivory 
 handle, curiously inlaid; and then, again, as to the color of 
 her hair, why, I can warrant, he its hue what it might, that 
 she wore above it a net of green silk, parcel twisted with gold." 
 
 " A most mercer-like memory," said Lambourne: " the gen- 
 tleman asks him of the lady's beauty, and he talks of her fine 
 clothes! " 
 
 " I tell thee,'' said the mercer, somewhat disconcerted, " I 
 had little time to look at her; for just as I was about to give 
 her the good time of day, and for that purpose had puckered 
 my features with a smile " 
 
 ^' Like those of a jackanape simpering at a chestnut," said 
 Michael Lambourne. 
 
 — " Up started of a sudden," continued Goldthred, without 
 heeding the interruption, " Tony Foster himself, with a cud- 
 gel in his hand " 
 
 "And broke thy head across, I hope, for thine imperti- 
 nence," said his entertainer. 
 
 " That were more easily said than done," answered Gold' 
 thred, indignantly; " no, no — there was no breaking of heads; 
 it's true, he advanced his cudgel, and spoke of lajdng on, and 
 asked why I did not keep the public road, and such-like; and 
 I would have knocked him over the pate handsomely for his 
 pains, only for the lady's presence, who might have swooned, 
 for what I know." 
 
 " Now, out upon thee for a faint-spirited slave! " said Lam- 
 bourne; " what adventurous knight ever thought of the lady's 
 terror when he went to thwack giant, dragon, or magician in 
 her presence, and for her deliverance? But why talk to thee 
 of dragons, who would be driven back by a dragon-fly? 
 There thou hast missed the rarest opportunity! " 
 
 " Take it thyself then, bully Mike," answered Goldthred. 
 "Yonder is the enchanted manor, and the dragon, and the 
 lady, all at thy service, if thou darest venture on them." 
 
 " Why, so I would for a quartern of sack," said the soldier. 
 " Or, stay — I am foully out of linen — wilt thou bet a piece of 
 Hollands against these five angels that I go not to the hall 
 to-morrow and force Tony Foster to introduce me to his fair 
 guest?" 
 
 "I accept your wager," said the mercer; "and I think, 
 though thou hadst even the impudence of the devil, I shall 
 gain on thee this bout. Our landlord here shall hold stakes, 
 and I will stake down gold till I send the linen." 
 
18 WA VERLEY NO VEL8. 
 
 "I will hold stakes on no such matter," said Gosling. 
 " Good now, my kinsman, drink your wine in quiet, and let 
 such ventures alone. I promise you. Master Foster hath 
 interest enough to lay you up in lavender in the castle at Ox- 
 ford, or to get your legs made acquainted with the town- 
 stocks." 
 
 " That would be but renewing an old intimacy; for Mike's 
 shins and the town's wooden pinfold have been vjell known to 
 each other ere now," said the mercer; " but he shall not budge 
 from his wager, unless he means to pay forfeit." 
 
 " Forfeit! " said Lambourne; " I scorn it. I value Tony 
 
 Foster's wrath no more than a shelled pea-cod; and I will visit 
 
 his Lindabrides, by St. George, be he willing or no! " 
 
 ^ " I would gladly pay your halves of the risk, sir," said Tres- 
 
 silian, " to be permitted to accompany you on the adventure." 
 
 " In what would that advantage you, sir? " answered Lam- 
 boume. 
 
 "In nothing, sir," said Tressilian, "unless to mark the 
 skill and valor with which you conduct yourself. I am a 
 traveler, who seeks for strange rencounters and uncommon 
 passages, as the knights of yore did after adventures and feats 
 of arms." 
 
 " Nay, if it pleasures you to see a trout tickled," answered 
 Lambourne, " I care not how many witness my skill. And 
 so here I drink success to my enterprise; and he that will not 
 pledge me on his knees is a rascal, and I will cut his legs off 
 by the garters! " 
 
 The draught which Michael Lambourne took upon this 
 occasion had been preceded by so many others that reason 
 tottered on her throne. He swore one or two incoherent 
 oaths at the mercer, who refused, reasonably enough, to 
 pledge him to a sentiment which inferred the loss of his own 
 wager. 
 
 " Wilt thou chop logic with me," said Lambourne, " thou 
 knave, with no more brains than are in a skein of raveled 
 silk? By Heaven, I will cut thee into fifty yards of galloon 
 lace! " 
 
 But, as he attempted to draw his sword for this doughty 
 purpose, Michael Lambourne was seized upon by the tapster 
 and the chamberlain, and conveyed to his own apartment, 
 there to sleep himself sober at his leisure. 
 
 The party then broke up, and the guests took their leave; 
 much more to the contentment of mine host than of some of 
 the company, who were unwilling to quit' good Liquor, when 
 
KENILWORTH. 1« 
 
 it was to be had for free cost, so long as they were able to sit 
 by it. They were, however, compelled to remove; and go at 
 length they did, leaving Gosling and Tressilian in the empty 
 apartment. 
 
 " By my faith,'' said the former; " I wonder where our 
 great folks find pleasure, when they spend their means in 
 entertainments, and in playing mine host without sending in 
 a reckoning. It is what I but rarely practice; and whenever 
 I do, by St. Julian, it grieves me beyond measure. Each of 
 these empty stoups now, which my nephew and his drunken 
 comrades have swilled off, should have been a matter of profit 
 to one in my line, and I must set them down a dead loss. I 
 cannot, for my heart, conceive the pleasure of noise, and non- 
 sense, and drunken freaks, and drunken quarrels, and smut, 
 and blasphemy, and so forth, when a man loses money instead 
 of gaining by it. And yet many a fair estate is lost in up- 
 holding such an useless course, and that greatly contributes 
 to the decay of publicans; for who the devil do you think 
 would pay for drink at the Black Bear, when he can have it 
 for nothing at my lord's or the squire's? " 
 
 Tressilian perceived that the wine had made some impres- 
 sion even on, the seasoned brain of mine host, which was 
 chiefiy to be inferred from his declaiming against drunken- 
 ness. As he himself had carefully avoided the bowl, he 
 would have availed himself of the frankness of the moment 
 to extract from Gosling some further information upon the 
 subject of Anthony Foster, and the lady whom the mercer 
 had seen in his mansion-house; but his inquiries only set the 
 host upon a new theme of declamation against the wiles of 
 the fair sex, in which he brought, at full length, the whole 
 wisdom of Solomon to re-enforce his own. Finally, he 
 turned his admonitions, mixed with much objurgation, upon 
 his tapsters and drawers, who were employed in removing the 
 relics of the entertainment and restoring order to the apart- 
 ment; and at length, joining example to precept, though with 
 no good success, he demolished a salver with half a score of 
 glasses, in attempting to show how such service was done at 
 the Three Cranes, in the Vintry, then the most topping tavern 
 in London. This last accident so far recalled him to his 
 better self that he retired to his bed, slept sound, and awoke 
 a new man in the morning. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 Nay, I'll hold touch, the game shall be play'd out : 
 It ne'er shall stop for me, this merry wager. 
 That which I say when gamesome, I'll avouch 
 In my most sober mood, ne'er trust me else. 
 
 — The Hazard Table. 
 
 ** And how doth your kinsman, good mine host? " said 
 Tressilian, when Giles Gosling first appeared in the public 
 room, on the morning following the revel which we described 
 in the last chapter. " Is he well, and will he abide by his 
 wager? " 
 
 " For well, sir, he started two hours since, and has visited 
 I know not what purlieus of his old companions; hath but 
 now returned, and is at this instant breakfasting on new-laid 
 egga and muscadine; and for his wager, I caution you as a 
 friend to have little to do with that, or indeed with aught that 
 Mike proposes. Wherefore, I counsel you to a warm break- 
 fast upon a culiss, which shall restore the tone of the stomach; 
 and let my nephew and Master Goldthred swagger about their 
 wager as they list." 
 
 "It seems to me, mine host," said Tressilian, "that you 
 know not well what to say about this kinsman of yours; and 
 that you can neither blame nor commend him without some 
 twinge of conscience." 
 
 " You have spoken truly. Master Tressilian," replied Giles 
 Gosling. " There is natural affection whimpering into one 
 ear, ' Giles — Giles, why wilt thou take away the good name of 
 thy own nephew? Wilt thou defame thy sister's son, Giles 
 Gosling? — wilt thou defoul thine own nest, dishonor thine 
 own blood?' And then, again, comes justice, and says, 
 * Here is a worthy guest as ever came to the bonny Black 
 Bear; one who never challenged a reckoning — as I say to your 
 face you never did. Master Tressilian — not that you have had 
 cause — one who knows not why he came, so far as I can see, 
 or when he is going away; and wilt thou, being a publican, 
 having paid scot and lot these thirty years in the town of 
 Cumnor, and being at this instant head-borough — wilt thou 
 suffer this guest of guests, this man of men, this six-hooped 
 pot, as I may say, of a traveler, to fall into the meshes of thy 
 
KENILWORTH. 21 
 
 nephew, who is known for a swasher and a desperate Dick, a 
 carder and a dicer, a professor of the seven damnable sciences, 
 if ever man took degrees in them? ' No, by Heaven! I might 
 wink, and let him catch such a small butterfly as Goldthred; 
 but thou, my guest, shalt be forewarned, so thou wilt but 
 listen to thy trusty host." 
 
 " Why, mine host, thy counsel shall not be cast away,'^ re- 
 plied Tressilian; " however, I must uphold my share in this 
 wager, having once passed my word to that effect. But lend 
 me, I pray, some of thy counsel. This Foster, who or what 
 is he, and why makes he such mystery of his female inmate? " 
 
 " Troth,'' replied' Gosling, " I can add but little to what 
 you heard last night. He was one of Queen Mary's Papists, 
 and now he is one of Queen Elizabeth's Protestants; he was 
 an onhanger of the abbot of Abingdon, and now he lives as 
 master of the manor-house. Above all, he was poor and is 
 rich. Folk talk of private apartments in his old waste man- 
 sion-house bedizened fine enough to serve the Queen, God 
 bless her! Some men think he found a treasure in the 
 orchard, some that he sold himself to the devil for treasure, 
 and some say that he cheated the abbot out of the church 
 plate which was hidden in the old manor-house at the Eefor- 
 mation. Eich, however, he is, and God and his conscience, 
 with the devil perhaps, besides, only know how he came by it. 
 He has sulky "ways too, breaking off intercourse with all that 
 are of the place, as if he had either some strange secret to 
 keep or held himself to be made of another clay than we are. 
 I think it likely my kinsman and he will quarrel, if Mike 
 thrust his acquaintance on him; and I am sorry that you, my 
 worthy Master Tressilian, will still think of going in my 
 nephew's company." 
 
 Tressilian again answered him, that he would proceed with 
 great caution, and that he should have no fears on his ac- 
 count; in short, he bestowed on him all the customary 
 assurances with which those who are determined on a rash 
 action are wont to parry the advice of their friends. 
 
 Meantime, the traveler accepted the landlord's invitation, 
 and had just finished the excellent breakfast which was 
 served to him and Gosling by pretty Cicely, the beauty of the 
 bar, when the hero of the preceding night, Michael Lam- 
 boume, entered the apartment. His toilet had apparently 
 cost him some labor, for his clothes, which differed from those 
 he wore on his journey, were of the newest fashion, and put 
 on with great attention to the display of his person. 
 
88 WAVEBLEY NOVELS. 
 
 " By my faith, uncle/' said the gallant, " you made a wet 
 night of it, and I feel it followed by a dry morning. I will 
 pledge you willingly in a cup of bastard. How, my pretty 
 coz, Cicely! why, I left you but a child in the cradle, and 
 there thou stand'st in thy velvet waistcoat, as tight a girl as 
 England's sun shines on. Know thy friends and kindred. 
 Cicely, and come hither, child, that I may kiss thee, and give 
 thee my blessing." 
 
 " Concern not yourself about Cicely, kinsman," said Giles 
 Gosling, "but e'en let her go her way, a' God's name; for 
 although your mother were her father's sister, yet that shall 
 not make you and her cater-cousins." 
 
 " Why, uncle," replied Lamboume, " think'st thou I am an 
 infidel, and would harm those of mine own house? " 
 
 " It is for no harm that I speak, Mike," answered his uncle, 
 "but a simple humor of precaution which I have. True, 
 thou art as well gilded as a snake when he casts his old slough 
 in the spring time; but for all that, thou creepest not into my 
 Eden. I will look after mine Eve, Mike, and so content thee. 
 But how brave thou be'st, lad! To look on thee now, and 
 compare thee with Master Tressilian here, in his sad-colored 
 riding-suit, who would not say that thou wert the real gentle- 
 man and he the tapster's boy? " 
 
 " Troth, uncle," replied Lamboume, " no one would say 
 BO but one of your country-breeding, that knows no better. I 
 will say, and I care not who hears me, there is something 
 about the real gentry that few men come up to that are not 
 bom and bred to the mystery. I wot not where the trick 
 lies; but although I can enter an ordinary with as much au- 
 dacity, rebuke the waiters and drawers as loudly, drink as 
 deep a health, swear as round an oath, and fling my gold as 
 freely about as any of the jingling spurs and white feathers 
 that are around me; yet hang me if I can ever catch the true 
 grace of it, though I have practiced an hundred times. The 
 man of the house sets me lowest at the board, and carves to 
 me the last; and the drawer says, ^ Coming, friends,' without 
 any more reverence or regardful addition. But, hang it, let 
 it pass; care killed a cat. I have gentry enough to pass the 
 trick on Tony Fire-the-Fagot, and that will do for the matter 
 in hand." 
 
 "You hold your purpose, then, of visiting your old ac- 
 quaintance?" said Tressilian to the adventurer. 
 
 "Aye, sir," replied Lamboume: "When stakes are made, 
 the game must be played; that is gamester's law all over the 
 
KENILWOBTH. 
 
 %% 
 
 world. You, sir, unless my memory fails me, for I did steep 
 it somewhat too deeply in the sack-butt, took some share in 
 my hazard? '' 
 
 ^^I propose to accompany you in your adventure," said 
 Tressilian, " if you will do me so much grace as to permit me; 
 and I have staked my share of the forfeit in the hands of our 
 worthy host." 
 
 " That he hath," answered Giles Gosling, " in as fair Harry 
 nobles as ever were melted into sack by a good fellow. So, 
 luck to your enterprise, since you will needs venture on Tony 
 Foster; but, by my credit, you had better take another 
 draught before you depart, for your welcome at the hall yon- 
 der will be somewhat of the driest. And if you do get into 
 peril, beware of taking to cold steel; but send for me, Giles 
 Gosling, the head-borough, and I may be able to make some- 
 thing out of Tony yet, for as proud as he is." 
 
 The nephew dutifully obeyed his uncle's hint, by taking a 
 second powerful pull at the tankard, observing, that his wit 
 never served him so well as when he had washed his temples 
 with a deep morning's draught; and they set forth together 
 for the habitation of Anthony Foster. 
 
 The village of Cumnor is pleasantly built on a hill, and in 
 a wooded park" closely adjacent was situated the ancient man- 
 sion occupied at this time by Anthony Foster, of which the 
 ruins may be still extant. The park was then full of large 
 trees, and in particular of ancient and mighty oaks, which 
 stretched their giant arms over the high wall surrounding the 
 demesne, thus giving it a melancholy, secluded, and monastic 
 appearance. The entrance to the park lay through an old- 
 fashioned gateway in the outer wall, the door of which was 
 formed of two huge oaken leaves, thickly studded with nails, 
 like the gate of an old town. 
 
 "We shall be finely holped up here," said Michael Lam- 
 bourne, looking at the gateway and gate, "if this fellow's 
 suspicious humor should refuse us admission altogether, as 
 it is like he may, in case this linsey-wolsey fellow of a mer- 
 cer's visit to his premises has disquieted him. But, no," he 
 added, pushing the huge gate, which gave way, "the door 
 stands invitingly open; and here we are within the forbidden 
 ground, without other impediment than the passive resistance 
 of a heavy oak door, moving on rusty hinges." 
 
 They stood now in an avenue overshadowed by such old 
 trees as we have described, and which had been bordered at 
 one time by high hedges of yew and holly. But these, hav- 
 
U WAVERLET NOVELS 
 
 ing been untrimmed for many years, had run up into great 
 bushes, or rather dwarf trees, and now encroached, with their 
 dark and melancholy boughs, upon the road which they once 
 had screened. The avenue itself was grown up with grass, 
 and in one or two places interrupted by piles of withered 
 brushwood, which had been lopped from the trees cut down 
 in the neighboring park, and was here stacked for drying. 
 Formal walks and avenues, which, at different points, crossed 
 this principal approach, were in like manner choked up and 
 interrupted by piles of brushwood and billets, and in other 
 places by underwood and brambles. Besides the general 
 effect of desolation which is so strongly impressed, whenever 
 we behold the contrivances of man wasted and obliterated by 
 neglect and witness the marks of social life effaced gradually 
 by the influence of vegetation, the size of the trees and the 
 outspreading extent of their boughs diffused a gloom over the 
 scene, even when the sun was at the highest, and made a pro- 
 portional impression on the mind of those who visited it. 
 This was felt even by Michael Lamboume, however alien his 
 habits were to receiving any impressions, excepting from 
 things which addressed themselves immediately to his 
 passions. 
 
 " This wood is as dark as a wolfs mouth,'^ said he to Tres- 
 silian, as they walked together slowly along the solitary and 
 broken approach, and had just come in sight of the monastic 
 front of the old mansion, with its shafted windows, brick 
 walls overgrown with ivy and creeping shrubs, and twisted 
 stalks of chimneys of heavy stonework. " And yet," con- 
 tinued Lamboume, " it is fairly done on the part of Foster 
 too; for, since he chooses not visitors, it is right to keep his 
 place in a fashion that will invite few to trespass upon his 
 privacy. But had he been the Anthony I once knew him, 
 these sturdy oaks had long since become the property of 
 some honest woodmonger, and the manor-close here .had 
 looked lighter at midnight than it now does at noon, while 
 Foster played fast and loose with the price in some cunning 
 comer in the purlieus of Whitefriars." 
 
 " Was he then such an unthrift? " asked Tressilian. 
 
 " He was," answered Lambourne, " like the rest of us, no 
 saint, and no saver. But what I liked worst of Tony was, 
 that he loved to take his pleasure by himself, and grudged, as 
 men say, every drop of water that went past his own mill. I 
 have known him deal with such measures of wine when he 
 wiw alone as I would not have ventured on with aid of the beat 
 
KENILWORTH. 
 
 d5 
 
 toper in Berkshire; that, and some sway toward superstition, 
 which he had by temperament, rendered him unworthy the 
 company of a good fellow. And now he has earthed himself 
 here in ?. den just befitting such a sly fox as himself." 
 
 " May I ask you. Master Lambourne," said Tressilian, 
 " since your old companion's humor jumps so little with your 
 own, wherefore you are so desirous to renew acquaintance 
 with him? " 
 
 "And may I ask you, in return. Master Tressilian," an- 
 swered Lamboume, " wherefore you have shown yourself so 
 desirous to accompany me on this party? " 
 
 " I told you my motive," said Tressilian, " when I took 
 share in your wager: it was simple curiosity." 
 
 *'Xa you there now! " answered Lamboume. " See how 
 you civil and discreet gentlemen think to use us who live by 
 the free exercise of our wits! Had I answered your question 
 by saying that it was simple curiosity which led me to visit 
 my old comrade, Anthony Foster, I warrant you had set it 
 down for an evasion and a turn of my trade. But any an- 
 swer, I suppose, must serve my turn." 
 
 " And wherefore should not bare curiosity," said Tressilian, 
 " be a sufficient reason for my taking this walk with you? " 
 
 " Oh, content yourself, sir," replied Lamboume; " you can- 
 not put the change on me so easy as you think, for I have 
 lived among the quick-stirring spirits of the age too long to 
 swallow chaff for grain. You are a gentleman of birth and 
 breeding — your bearing makes it good; of civil habits and fair 
 reputation — your manners declare it, and my uncle avouches 
 it; and yet you associate yourself with a sort of scant-of-grace, 
 as men call me; and, knowing me to be such, you make your- 
 self my companion in a visit to a man whom you are a stran- 
 ger to — and all out of mere curiosity, forsooth! The excuse, 
 ii curiously balanced, would be found to want some scruples 
 of just weight or so." 
 
 " If your suspicions were just," said Tressilian, " you have 
 shown no confidence in me to invite or deserve mine." 
 
 "Oh, if that be all," said Lamboume, "my motives lie 
 above water. While this gold of mine la^," taking out his 
 purse, chucking it into the air, and catching it as it fell, " I 
 will make it buy pleasure, and when it is out, I must have 
 more. Naw, if this mysterious Lady of the Manor — ^this fair 
 Lindabrides of Tony F^re-the-Fagot — ^be so admirable a piece 
 as men say, why, there is chance that she may aid me to melt 
 my nobles into groats; and, again, if Anthony be so wealthy 
 
26 WA YERLBT NO TEL8. 
 
 a chuff as report speaks him, he may prove the philosopher's 
 stone to me, and convert my groats into fair rose nobles 
 again." 
 
 "A comfortable proposal truly," said Tressilian; "but I 
 see not what chance there is of accomplishing it." 
 
 "Not to-day, or perchance to-morrow," answered Lam- 
 bourne: " I expect not to catch the old jack till I have dis- 
 posed my ground-baits handsomely. But I know something 
 more of his affairs this morning than I did last night, and I 
 will so use my knowledge that he shall think it more perfect 
 than it is. Nay, without expecting either pleasure or profit, 
 or both, I had not stepped a stride within this manor, I can 
 tell you; for I promise you I hold our visit not altogether 
 without risk. But here we are, and we must make the best 
 on't." 
 
 While he thus spoke, they had entered a large orchard 
 which surrounded the house on two sides, though the trees, 
 abaadoned by the care of man, were overgrown and mossy, 
 and seemed to bear little fruit. Those which had been for- 
 merly trained as espaliers had now resumed their natural 
 mode of growing, and exhibited grotesque forms, partaMng of 
 the original training which they had received. The greater 
 part of the ground, which had once been parterres and flower 
 gardens, was suffered in like manner to run to waste, except- 
 ing a few patches which had been dug up, and planted with 
 ordinary pot herbs. Some statues, which had ornamented 
 the garden in its days of splendor, were now thrown down 
 from their pedestals and broken in pieces, and a large summer 
 house, having a heavy stone front, decorated with carving, 
 representing the life and actions of Samson, was in the same 
 dilapidated condition. 
 
 They had just traversed this garden of the sluggard, and 
 were within a few steps of the door of the mansion, when 
 Lambourne had ceased speaking — a circumstance very agree- 
 able to Tressilian, as it saved him the embarrassment of either 
 commenting upon or replying to the frank avowal which his 
 companion had just made of the sentiments and views which 
 induced him to come hither. Lambourne knocked roundly 
 and boldly at the huge door of the mansion, observing, at the 
 same time, he had seen a less strong one upon a county jail. 
 It was not until they had knocked more than once that an 
 aged, sour-visaged domestic reconnoitered them through a 
 small square hole in the door, well secured with bars of iron, 
 and demanded what they wanted. 
 
KENILWOBTB, K^ 27 
 
 " To speak with Master Foster instantly, on pressing busi- 
 ness of the state," was the ready reply of Michael Lambourne. 
 
 " Methinks you will find difficulty to make that good," said 
 Tressilian in a whisper to his companion, while the servant 
 went to carry the message to his master. 
 . " Tush," replied the adventurer; " no soldier would go on 
 were he always to consider when and how he should come off. 
 Let us once obtain entrance, and all will go well enough." 
 
 In a short time the servant returned, and drawing with a 
 careful hand both bolt and bar, opened the gate, which ad- 
 mitted them through an archway into a square court, sur- 
 rounded by buildings. Opposite to the arch was another 
 door, which the serving-man in like manner unlocked, and 
 thus introduced them into a stone-paved parlor, where there 
 was but little furniture, and that of the rudest and most an- 
 eient fashion. The windows were tall and ample, reaching 
 almost to the roof of the room, which was composed of black 
 oak; those opening to the quadrangle were obscured by the 
 height of the surrounding buildings, and, as they were trav- 
 ersed with massive shafts of solid stonework, and thickly 
 painted with religious devices and scenes taken from Scrip- 
 ture history, by no means admitted light in proportion to 
 their size; and what did penetrate through them partook of 
 the dark and gloomy tinge of the stained glass. 
 
 Tressilian and his guide had time enough to observe all 
 these particulars, for they waited some space in the apartment 
 ere the present master of the mansion at length made his ap- 
 pearance. Prepared as he was to see an inauspicious and ill- 
 looking person, the ugliness of Anthony Foster considerably 
 exceeded what Tressilian had anticipated. He was of middle 
 stature, built strongly, but so clumsily as to border on de- 
 formity, and to give all his motions the ungainly awkward- 
 ness of a left-legged and left-handed man. His hair, in ar- 
 ranging which men at that time, as at present, were very nice 
 and curious, instead of being carefully cleaned and disposed 
 into short curls, or else set up on end, as is represented in old 
 paintings, in a manner resembling that used by fine gentle- 
 men of our own day, escaped in sable negligence from under 
 a furred bonnet, and hung in elf-locks, which seemed stran- 
 gers to the comb, over his rugged brows, and around his very 
 singular and unprepossessing countenance. His keen dark 
 eyes were deep set beneath broad and shaggy eyebrows, and 
 as they were usually bent on the ground, seemed as if they 
 were themselves ashamed of the expression natural to them. 
 
28 WAVEBLET NOVELS, 
 
 and were desirous to conceal it from the observation of men. 
 At times, however, when, more intent on observing others, 
 he suddenly raised them, and fixed them keenly on those with 
 whom he conversed, they seemed to express both the fiercer 
 passions and the power of mind which could at will suppress 
 or disgidse the intensity of inward feeling. The features 
 which corresponded with these eyes and this form were 
 irregular, and marked so as to be indelibly fixed on the mind 
 of him who had once seen them. Upon the whole, as Tres- 
 fidlian could not help acknowledging to himself, the Anthony 
 Foster who now stood before them was the last person, judg- 
 ing from personal appearance, upon whom one would have 
 chosen to intrude an unexpected and undesired visit. His 
 attire was a doublet of russet leather, like those worn by the 
 better sort of country folk, girt with a buff belt, in which was 
 stuck on the right side a long knife, or dudgeon dagger, and 
 on the other a cutlass. He raised his eyes as he entered the 
 room, and fixed a keenly penetrating glance upon his two 
 visitors, then cast them down as if counting his steps, while 
 he advanced slowly into the middle of the room, and said, in 
 a low, smothered tone of voice, " Let me pray you, gentlemen, 
 to tell me the cause of this visit." 
 
 He looked as if he expected the answer from Tressilian; so 
 true was Lamboume's observation, that the superior air of 
 breeding and dignity shone through the disguise of an in- 
 ferior dress. But it was Michael who replied to him, with 
 the easy familiarity of an old friend, and a tone which seemed 
 unembarrassed by any doubt of the most cordial reception. 
 
 " Ha! my dear friend and ingle, Tony Foster! " he ex- 
 claimed, seizing upon the unwilling hand, and shaking it with 
 such emphasis as almost to stagger the sturdy frame of the 
 person whom he addressed; " how fares it with you for many 
 a long year? What! have you altogether forgotten your 
 friend, gossip, and playfellow, Michael Lamboume?" 
 
 " Michael Lamboume! '' said Foster, looking at him a mo- 
 ment; then dropping his eyes, and with little ceremony extri- 
 cating his hand from the friendly grasp of the person by 
 whom he was addressed — " are you Michael Lamboume? " 
 
 "Aye, sure as you are Anthony Foster," replied Lamboume. 
 
 " "Tis well," answered his sullen host; " and what may 
 Michael Lamboume expect from his visit hither? " 
 
 " Voto a Dios,*' answered Lamboume, " I expected a better 
 welcome than I am like to meet, I think." 
 
 "Why, thou gallows-bird— thou jail-rat — thou friend of 
 
KENILWORTK a9 
 
 the hangman and his customers/' replied Foster, " hast thou 
 the assurance to expect countenance from anyone whose neck 
 is beyond the compass of a Tybum tippet? " 
 
 " It may be with me as you say," replied Lamboume; " and 
 suppose I grant it to be so for argument's sate, I were still 
 good enough society for mine ancient friend Anthony Fire- 
 the-Fagot, though he be, for the present, by some indescriba- 
 ble title, the master of Cumnor Place." 
 
 " Hark you, Michael Lamboume," said Foster; " you are a 
 gambler now, and live by the counting of chances. Compute 
 me the odds that I do not, on this instant, throw you out of 
 that window into the ditch there." 
 
 "Twenty to one that you do not," answered the sturdy 
 visitor. 
 
 "And wherefore, I pray you?" demanded Anthony Fos- 
 ter, setting his^eeth and compressing his lips, like one who 
 endeavors to suppress some violent internal emotion. 
 
 " Because," said Lamboume coolly, " you dare not for your 
 life lay a finger on me. I am younger and stronger than you, 
 and have in me a double portion of the fighting devil, though 
 not, it may be, quite so much of the undemiimng fiend, that 
 finds an underground way to his purpose, who hides halters 
 under folks' pillows, and who puts ratsbane into their por- 
 ridge, as the stage-play says." 
 
 Foster looked at him earnestly, then turned away, and 
 paced the room twice, with the same steady and considerate 
 pace with which he had entered it; then suddenly came back, 
 and extended his hand to Michael Lamboume, saying, "Be 
 not wroth with me, ^ood Mike; I did but try whether thou 
 hadst parted with aught of thine old and honorable frankness, 
 which your enviers and backbiters called saucy impudence." 
 
 "Let them call it what they will," said Michael Lam- 
 boume, "it is the commodity we must carry through the 
 world with us. Uds daggers! I tell thee, man, mine own 
 stock of assurance was too small to trade upon: I was fain to 
 take in a ton or two more of brass at every port where I 
 touched in the voyage of life; and I started overboard what 
 modesty and scmples I had remaining, in order to make room 
 for the stowage." 
 
 "Nay, nay," replied Foster, "touching scruples and 
 modesty, you sailed hence in ballast. But who is this gallant, 
 honest Mike? Is he a Corinthian — a cutter like thyself?" 
 
 " I prithee, know Master Tressilian, bully Foster," replied 
 Lamboume, presenting his friend in answer to his friend's 
 
30 WA7EBLET NOVELS. 
 
 question — '' I know him and honor him, for he is a gentleman 
 of many admirable qualities; and though he traffics not in my 
 line of business, at least so far as I know, he has, nevertheless, 
 a just respect and admiration for artists of our class. He 
 will come to in time, as seldom fails; but as yet he is only a 
 neophyte, only a proselyte, and frequents the company of 
 cocks of the game, as a puny fencer does the schools of the 
 masters, to see how a foil is handled by the teachers of 
 defense.'^ 
 
 " If such be his quality, I will pray your company in an- 
 other chamber, honest Mike, for what I have to say to thee is 
 for thy private ear. Meanwhile, I pray you, sir, to abide us 
 in this apartment, and without leaving it: there be those in 
 this house who would be alarmed by the sight of a stranger." * 
 
 Tres'silian acquiesced, and the two worthies left the apart- 
 ment together, in which he remained alone to await their 
 return. 
 
 *See Foster, Lamboarne, snd the Black Bear. N«te %. 
 
CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 Not serve two masters ? Here's a youth will try it- 
 Would fain serve God, yet give the devil his due ; 
 Says grace before he doth a deed of villainy, 
 And returns his thanks devoutly when 'tis acted. 
 
 —Old Play. 
 
 The room into which the master of Cumnor Place con^ 
 ducted his worthy visitant was of greater extent than that in 
 which they had at first conversed, and had yet more the ap- 
 pearance of dilapidation. Large oaken presses, filled with 
 shelves of the same wood, surrounded the room, and had, at 
 one time, served for the arrangement of a numerous collec- 
 tion of books, many of which yet remained, but torn and de- 
 faced, covered with dust, deprived of their costly clasps and 
 bindings, and tossed together in heaps upon the shelves, as 
 things altogether disregarded, and abandoned to the pleasure 
 of every spoiler. The very presses themselves seemed to have 
 incurred the hostility of those enemies of learning, who ha^ 
 destroyed the volumes with which they had been heretofore 
 filled. They were, in several places, dismantled of their 
 shelves, and otherwise broken and damaged, and were, more- 
 over, mantled with cobwebs and covered with dust. 
 
 " The men who wrote these books," said Lambourne, look- 
 ing round him, " little thought whose keeping they were to 
 fall into." 
 
 ''Nor what yeoman's service they were to do me," quoth 
 Anthony Foster: " the cook hath used them for scouring his 
 pewter, and the groom hath had nought else to clean my 
 boots with this many a month past." 
 
 " And yet," said Lambourne, " I have been in cities where 
 such learned commodities would have been deemed too good 
 for such offices." 
 
 "Pshaw — pshaw," answered Foster, "they are Popish 
 trash every one of them — private studies of the mumping old 
 abbot of Abingdon. The nineteenthly of a pure Gospel ser- 
 mon were worth a cartload of such riings of the kennel of 
 Rome." 
 
 " Gad-a-mercy, Master Tony Fire-the-Fagot! " said Lam- 
 bourne, by way of reply. 
 
 Foster scowled darkly at him, as he replied, " Hark ye. 
 
32 WAmJRLEY NOVELL. 
 
 friend Mike; forget that name, and the passage which it re- 
 lates to, if you would not have our newly-revived comradeship 
 die a sudden and a violent death." 
 
 " Why," said Michael Lambourne, " you were wont to glory 
 in the share you had in the death of the two old heretical 
 bishops." 
 
 " That," said his comrade, *' was while I was in the gall of 
 bitterness and bond of iniquity, and applies not to my walk 
 or my ways now that I am called forth into the lists. Mr. 
 Melchisedek Maultext compared my misfortune in that mat- 
 ter to that of the Apostle Paul, who kept the clothes of the 
 witnesses who stoned St. Stephen. He held forth on the 
 matter three Sabbaths past, and illustrated the same by the 
 conduct of an honorable person present, meaning me." 
 
 "I prithee peace, Foster," said Lambourne; "for, I know 
 not how it is, I have a sort of creeping comes over my skin 
 when I hear the devil quote Scripture; and besides, man, how 
 couldst thou have the heart to quit that convenient old re- 
 ligion, which you could slip off or on as easily as your glove? 
 Do I not remember how you were wont to carry your con- 
 science to confession, as duly as the month came round? and 
 when thou hadst it scoured and burnished, and whitewashed 
 by the priest, thou wert ever ready for the worst villainy which 
 could be devised, like a child who is always readiest to 
 rush into the mire when he has got his Sunday's clean 
 jerkin on." 
 
 " Trouble not thyself about my conscience," said Foster, 
 " it is a thing thou canst not understand, having never had 
 one of thine own. But let us rather to the point, and say to 
 me, in one word, what is thy business with me, and what 
 hopes have drawn thee hither? " 
 
 " The hope of bettering myself, to be sure," answered Lam- 
 bourne, " as the old woman said, when she leapt over the 
 bridge at Kingston. Look you, this purse has all that is left 
 of as round a sum as a man would wish to carry in his slop- 
 pouch. You are here well established, it would seem, and, 
 as I think, well befriended, for men talk of thy being under 
 some special protection; nay, stare not like a pig that is stuck, 
 man, thou canst not dance in a net and they not see thee? 
 Now I know such protection is not purchased for nought: 
 you must have services to render for it, and in these I pro- 
 pose to help thee." 
 
 "But how if I lack no assistance from thee, Mike? J 
 think thy modesty might suppose that were a case possible." 
 
KENILWORTB, 88 
 
 ** That is to say/' retorted Lambourne, " that you would 
 engross the whole work rather than divide the reward; but be 
 not over-greedy, Anthony. Covetousness bursts the sack and 
 spills the grain. Look you, when the huntsman goes to kill 
 a sfeg, he takes with him more dogs than one. He has the 
 stanch lyme-hound to track the wounded buck over hill and 
 dale, but he hath also the fleet gaze-hound to kill him at view. 
 Thou art the lyme-hound, I am the gaze-hound, and thy 
 patron will need the aid of both, and can well afford to re- 
 quite it. Thou hast deep sagacity, an unrelenting purpose, 
 a steady, long-breathed malignity of nature, that surpasses 
 mine. But then I am the bolder, the quicker, the more 
 ready, both at action and expedient. Separate, our properties 
 are not so perfect; but unite them, and we drive the world 
 before us. How sayst thou, shall we hunt in couples? " 
 
 " It is a currish proposal, thus to thrust thyself upon my 
 private matters," replied Foster; " but thou wert ever an ill- 
 nurtured whelp." 
 
 " You shall have no cause to say so, unless you spurn my 
 courtesy," said Michael Lambourne; "but if so, keep thee 
 well from me, sir knight, as the romance has it. I will either 
 share your counsels or traverse them; for I have come here to 
 be busy, either with thee or against thee." 
 
 " Well," said Anthony Foster, " since thou dost leave me so 
 fair a choice, I will rather be thy friend than thine enemy. 
 Thou art right: I can prefer thee to the service of a patron 
 who has enough of means to make us both and an hundred 
 more. And, to say truth, thou art well qualified for his 
 service. Boldness and dexterity he demands — the justice- 
 books bear witness in thy favor; no starting at scruples in his 
 service — why, who ever suspected thee of a conscience? an 
 assurance he must have who would follow a courtier — and 
 thy brow is as impenetrable as a Milan visor. There is but 
 one thing I would fain see amended in thee." 
 
 "And what is that, my most precious friend Anthony?" 
 rephed Lambourne; " for I swear by the pillow of the Seven 
 Sleepers, I will not be slothful in amending it." 
 
 J' Why, you gave a sample of it even now," said Foster. 
 " Your speech twangs too much of the old stamp, and you 
 garnish it ever and anon with singular oaths, that savor of 
 Papistry. Besides, your exterior man is altogether too de- 
 boshed and irregular to become one of his lordship's fol- 
 lowers, since he has a reputation to keep up in the eye of the 
 world. You must somewhat reform your dress, upon a more 
 
94 WAVBRLBT NOVELS. 
 
 grave and composed fashion; wear your cloak on both shoul- 
 ders, and your falling band unrumpled and well starched. 
 You must enlarge the brim of your beaver, and diminish the 
 superfluity of your trunk-hose; go to church, or, which will 
 be better, to meeting, at least once a month; protest only upon 
 your faith and conscience; lay aside your swashing look, and 
 never touch the hilt of your sword but when you would draw 
 the carnal weapon in good earnest." 
 
 "By this light, Anthony, thou art mad," answered Lam- 
 bourne, " and hast described rather the gentleman-usher to a 
 Puritan's wife than the follower of an ambitious courtier! 
 Yes, such a thing as thou wouldst make of me should wear a 
 book at his girdle instead of a poniard, and might just be sus- 
 pected of manhood enough to squire a proud dame-citizen to 
 the lecture at St. Antonlin's, and quarrel in her cause with 
 any flat-capp'd threadmaker that would take the wall of her. 
 He must ruffle it in another sort that would walk to court in 
 a nobleman's train." 
 
 *' Oh, content you, sir," replied Foster, " there is a change 
 since you knew the English world; and there are those who 
 can hold their way through the boldest courses, and the most 
 secret, and yet never a swaggering word, or an oath, or a pro- 
 fane word in their conversation." 
 
 " That is to say," replied Lamboume, " they are in a trad- 
 ing copartnery to do the devil's business without mentioning 
 his name in the firm? Well, I will do my best to counterfeit, 
 rather than lose ground in this new world, since thou sayest 
 it is grown so precise. But, Anthony, what is the name 
 of this nobleman, in whose service I am to turn hypo- 
 crite?" 
 
 " Aha, Master Michael! are you there with your bears? " 
 said Foster, with a grim smile; " and is this the knowledge 
 you pretend of my concernments? How know you now there 
 is such a person in rerum natura, and that I have not been 
 putting a jape upon you all this time? " 
 
 " Thou put a jape on me, thou sodden-brained gull? " an- 
 swered Lamboume, nothing daunted; " why, dark and muddy 
 as thou think'st thyself, I would engage in a day's space to 
 see as clear through thee and thy concernments, as thou 
 call'st them, as through the filthy horn of an old stable 
 lantern." 
 
 At this moment their conversation was interrupted by a 
 scream from the next apartment. 
 
 " By the holy cross of Abingdon," exclaimed Anthony 
 
KEmLWOBTH. 
 
 S5 
 
 Foster, forgetting his Protestanism in his alarm, "I am a 
 ruined man! " 
 
 So saying, he rushed into the apartment whence the 
 scream issued, followed by Michael Lambourne. But to ac- 
 count for the sounds which interrupted their conversation it 
 is necessary to recede a little way in our narrative. 
 
 It has been already observed that, when Lambourne accom- 
 panied Foster into the library, they left Tressilian alone in 
 the ancient parlor. His dark eye followed them forth of the 
 apartment with a glance of contempt, a part of which his 
 mind instantly transferred to himself, for having stooped to 
 be even for a moment their familiar companion. " These 
 are the associates, Amy" — it was thus he communed with 
 himself — "to which thy cruel levity, thine unthinking and 
 most unmerited falsehood, has condemned him of whom his 
 friends once hoped far other things, and who now scorns him- 
 self, as he will be scorned by others, for the baseness he stoops 
 to for the love of thee! But I will not leave the pursuit of 
 thee, once the object of my purest and most devoted affection, 
 though to me thou canst henceforth be nothing but a thing 
 to weep over. I will save thee from thy betrayer and from 
 thyself. I will restore thee to thy parents — ^to thy God. I 
 cannot bid the bright star again sparkle in the sphere it has 
 shot from, but " 
 
 A slight noise in the apartment interrupted his reverie; he 
 looked round, and in the beautiful and richly-attired female 
 who entered at that instant by a side door he recognized the 
 object of his search. The first impulse arising from this dis- 
 covery urged him to conceal his face with the collar of his 
 cloak, until he should find a favorable moment of making 
 himself known. But his purpose was disconcerted by the 
 young lady (she was not above eighteen years old), who ran 
 joyfully toward him, and, pulling him by the cloak, said 
 playfully, " Nay, my sweet friend, after I have waited for you 
 so long, you come not to my bower to play the masquer. 
 You are arraigned of treason to true love and fond affection; 
 and you must stand up at the bar and answer it with face un- 
 covered — ^how say you, guilty or not? " 
 
 " Alas, Amy! " said Tressilian, in a low and melancholy 
 tone, as he suffered her to draw the mantle from his face. 
 The sound of his voice, and still more the unexpected sight of 
 his face, changed in an instant the lady's playful mood. She 
 staggered back, turned as pale as death, and put her hands 
 before her face. Tressilian was himself for a moment much 
 
36 WA VEBLBT NO VEL8, 
 
 overcome, but seeming suddenly to remember the necessity 
 of using an opportunity which might not again occur, he 
 said in a low tone, " Amy, fear me not." 
 
 " Why should I fear you? " said the lady, withdrawing her 
 hands from her beautiful face, which was now covered with 
 crimson — " why should I fear you, Mr. Tressilian? or where- 
 fore have you intruded yourself into my dwelling, uninvited, 
 sir, and unwished for? " 
 
 " Your dwelling. Amy! " said Tressilian. " Alas! is a 
 prison your dwelling? — a prison guarded by one of the most 
 sordid of men, but not a greater wretch than his employer! " 
 
 " This house is mine," said Amy — " mine while I choose to 
 inhabit it. If it is my pleasure to live in seclusion, who shall 
 gainsay me?" 
 
 "Your father, maiden," answered Tressilian — "your 
 broken-hearted father, who dispatched me in quest of you 
 with that authority which he cannot exert in person. Here 
 is his letter, written while he blessed his pain of body which 
 somewhat stunned the agony of his mind." 
 
 " The pain! is my father then ill? " said the lady. 
 
 " So ill," answered Tressilian, " that even your utmost 
 haste may not restore him to health; but all shall be instantly 
 prepared for your departure the instant you yourself will give 
 consent." 
 
 ^* Tressilian," answered the lady, " I cannot — I must not — 
 I dare not leave this place. Go back to my father; tell him I 
 will obtain leave to see him within twelve hours from hence. 
 Go back, Tressilian; tell him I am well, I am happy — happy 
 could I think he was so; tell him not to fear that I will come, 
 and in such a manner that all the grief Amy has given him 
 shall be forgotten — the poor Amy is now greater than she 
 dare name. Go, good Tressilian; I have injured thee too, but 
 believe me I have power to heal the wounds I have caused: I 
 robbed you of a childish heart, which was not worthy of you, 
 and I can repay the loss with honors and advancement." 
 
 " Do you say this to me. Amy? Do you offer me pageants 
 of idle ambition for the quiet peace you have robbed me of? 
 But be it so — I came not to upbraid, but to serve and to free 
 you. You cannot disguise it from me — you are a prisoner. 
 Otherwise your kind heart — for it was once a kind heart — 
 would have been already at your father's bedside. Come, 
 poor, deceived, unhappy maiden. All shall be forgot — all 
 shall be forgiven. Fear not my importunity for what re- 
 garded our contract; it was a dream, and I have awaked. 
 
 j 
 
KENIZWORTR. Si 
 
 But come; your fatJier yet lives. Come, and one word of 
 affection — one tear of penitence, will efface the memory of 
 all that has passed." 
 
 " Have I not already said, Tressilian," replied she, " that I 
 will surely come to my father, and that without farther delay 
 than is necessary to discharge other and equally binding 
 duties? Go, carry him the news. I come as sure as there is 
 light in heaven — that is, when I o-btain permission." 
 
 "Permission! — permission to visit your father on his sick 
 bed, perhaps on his death bed! " repeated Tressilian impa- 
 tiently; "and permission from whom? From the villain 
 who, under disguise of friendship, abused every duty of hos- 
 pitality, and stole thee from thy father's roof! " 
 
 " Do him no slander, Tressilian! He whom thou speakest 
 of wears a sword as sharp as thine — sharper, vain man; for 
 the best deeds thou hast ever done in peace or war were as 
 unworthy to be named with his as thy obscure rank to match 
 itself with the sphere he moves in. Leave me! Go, do mine 
 errand to my father, and when he next sends to me, let him 
 choose a more welcome messenger." 
 
 "Amy," replied Tressilian calmly, "thou canst not move 
 me by thy reproaches. Tell me one thing, that I may bear at 
 least one ray of comfort to my aged friend. This rank of his 
 which thou dost boast — dost thou share it with him. 
 Amy? Does he claim a husband's right to control thy 
 motions? " 
 
 " Stop thy base, unmannered tongue! " said the lady; " tc 
 no question that derogates from my honor do I deign ar 
 answer." 
 
 "You have said enough in refusing to reply," answered 
 Tressilian; " and mark me, unhappy as thou art, I am armed 
 with thy father's full authority to command thy obedience, 
 and I will save thee from the slavery of sin and of sorrow, 
 even despite of thyself. Amy." 
 
 "Menace no violence here!" exclaimed the lady, drawing 
 back from him, and alarmed at the determination expressed 
 in his look and manner: " threaten me not, Tressilian, for I 
 have means to repel force." 
 
 " But not, I trust, the wish to use them in so evil a cause? " 
 said Tressilian. "With thy will — ^thine uninfluenced, free, 
 and natural will, Amy, thou canst not choose this state of 
 slavery and dishonor: thou hast been bound by some spell — 
 entrapped by some deceit — art now detained by some com- 
 pelled vow. But thus I break the charm: Amy, in the name 
 
88 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 of thine excellent, thy broken-hearted father, I command thee 
 to follow me! " 
 
 As he spoke, he advanced and extended his arm, as with the 
 purpose of la3ring hold upon her. But she shrunk back from 
 his grasp, and uttered the scream which, as we before noticed, 
 brought into the apartment Lamboume and Foster. 
 
 The latter exclaimed, as soon as he entered, " Fire and 
 fagot! what have we here? ^' Then addressing the lady, in a 
 tone betwixt entreaty and command, he added, "TJds 
 precious! madam, what make you here out of bounds? Ee- 
 tire — retire; there is life and death in this matter. And you, 
 friend, whoever you may be, leave this house: out with you, 
 before my dagger's hilt and your costard become acquainted. 
 Draw, Mike, and rid us of the knave! " 
 
 " Not I, on my soul,'' replied Lamboume; " he came hither 
 in my company, and he is safe from me by cutter's law, at 
 least till we meet again. But hark ye, my Cornish comrade, 
 you have brought a Cornish flaw of wind with you hither — a 
 hurricanoe as they call it in the Indies. Make yourself 
 scarce — depart — vanish, or we'll have you summoned before 
 the Mayor of Halgaver, and that before Dudman and Eam- 
 head meet." 
 
 " Away, base groom! " said Tressilian. " And you, 
 madam, fare you well; what life lingers in your father's 
 bosom will leave him at the news I have to tell." 
 
 He departed, the lady saying faintly as he left the room, 
 " Tressilian, be not rash — say no scandal of me." 
 
 " Here is proper gear," said Foster. " I pray you go to 
 your chamber, my lady, and let us consider how this is to be 
 answered; nay, tarry not." 
 
 " I move not at your command, sir," answered the lady. 
 
 " Nay, but you must, fair lady," replied Foster; " excuse 
 my freedom, but, by blood and nails, this is no time to strain 
 courtesies — you must go to your chamber. Mike, follow that 
 meddling coxcomb, and, as you desire to thrive, see him safely 
 clear of the premises, while I bring this headstrong lady to 
 reason. Draw thy tool, man, and after him." 
 
 " I'll follow him," said Michael Lamboume, " and see him 
 fairly out of Flanders. But for hurting a man I have drunk 
 my morning's draught withal, 'tis clean against Kiy con- 
 gcience." So saying, he left the apartment. 
 
 Tressilian, meanwhile, with hasty steps, pursued the first 
 path which promised to conduct him through the wild and 
 overgrown park in which the mansion of Foster was situated. 
 
 i 
 
KENILWORTH. 39 
 
 Haste and distress of mind led his steps astray, and, instead 
 of taking the avenue which led toward the village, he chose 
 another, which, after he had pursued it for some time with 
 a hasty and reckless step, conducted him to the other side of 
 the demesne, where a postern door opened through the wall, 
 and led into the open country. 
 
 Tressilian paused an instant. It was indifferent to him by 
 what road he left a spot now so odious to his recollections; 
 but it was probable that the postern door was locked, and his 
 retreat by that pass rendered impossible. 
 
 " I must make the attempt, however," he said to himself; 
 " the only means of reclaiming this lost — ^this miserable — this 
 still most lovely and most unhappy girl — must rest in her 
 father's appeal to the broken laws of his country; I must haste 
 to apprise him of this heart-rending intelligence." 
 
 As Tressilian, thus conversing with himself, approached to 
 try some means of opening the door, or climbing over it, he 
 perceived there was a key put into the lock from the outside. 
 It turned round, the bolt revolved, and a cavalier, who 
 entered, muffled in his riding-cloak, and wearing a slouched 
 hat with a drooping feather, stood at once within four yards 
 of him who was desirous of going out. They exclaimed at 
 once, in tones of resentment and surprise, the one " Varney! " 
 the other " Tressilian! " 
 
 " What make you here ? " was the stem question put by the 
 stranger to Tressilian, when the moment of surprise was past 
 — " what make you here, where your presence is neither ex- 
 pected nor desired? " 
 
 "Nay, Varney," replied Tressilian, "what make you here? 
 Are you come to triumph over the innocence you have de- 
 stroyed, as the vulture or carrion crow comes to batten on the 
 lamb, whose eyes it has first plucked out? Or are you come 
 to encounter the merited vengeance of an honest man? 
 Draw, dog, and defend thyself! " 
 
 Tressilian drew his sword as he spoke; but Vamey only 
 laid his hand on the hilt of his own, as he replied, " Thou are 
 mad, Tressilian. I own appearances are against me, but by 
 every oath a priest can make, or a man can swear. Mistress 
 Amy Robsart hath had no injury from me; and in truth I 
 were somewhat loath to hurt you in this cause. Thou 
 know'st I can fight." 
 ^^k^ "I have heard thee say so, Varney," replied Tressilian; 
 ^^t ^ut now, methinks, I would fain have some better evidence 
 ^Hthan thine own word." 
 
 I 
 
40 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 " That shall not be lacking, if blade and hilt be but true to 
 me," answered Vamey; and drawing his sword with the right 
 hand, he threw his cloak around his left, and attacked Tres- 
 silian with a vigor which, for a moment, seemed to give him 
 the advantage of the combat. But this advantage lasted not 
 long. TressiUan added to a spirit determined on revenge a 
 hand and eye admirably well adapted to the use of the rapier; 
 so that Varney, finding himself hard pressed in his turn, en- 
 deavored to avail himself of his superior strength, by closing 
 with his adversary. For this purpose, he hazarded the re- 
 ceiving one of TressiHan's passes in his cloak, wrapt as it was 
 around his arm, and ere his adversary could extricate his 
 rapier thus entangled, he closed with him, shortening his own 
 sword at the same time, with the purpose of dispatching him. 
 But Tressihan was on his guard, and, unsheathing his 
 poniard, parried with the blade of that weapon the home- 
 thrust which would otherwise have finished the combat, and, 
 in^the struggle which followed, displayed so much address as 
 might have confirmed the opinion that he drew his origin 
 from Cornwall, whose natives are such masters in the art of 
 wrestling as, were the games of antiquity revived, might 
 enable them to challenge all Europe to the ring. Vamey, in 
 his ill-advised attempt, received a fall so sudden and violent 
 that his sword flew several paces from his hand, and ere he 
 could recover hifi feet that of his antagonist was pointed to 
 his throat. 
 
 " Give me the instant means of relieving the victim of thy 
 treachery," said Tressilian, " or take the last look of your 
 Creator's blessed sun! " 
 
 And while Varney, too confused or too sullen to reply, 
 made a sudden effort to arise, his adversary drew back his 
 arm, and would have executed his threat, but that the blow 
 was arrested by the grasp of Michael Lamboume, who, di- 
 rected by the clashing of swords, had come up just in time to 
 save the life of Varney. 
 
 " Come — come, comrade," said Lamboume, " here is 
 enough done, and more than enough; put up your fox, and 
 let us be jogging. The Black Bear growls for us." 
 
 " Off, abject! " said Tressilian, striking himself free of 
 Lambourne's grasp; " darest thou come betwixt me and mine 
 60Q.emy?" 
 
 "Abject — abject!" repeated Lamboume: "that shall be 
 answered with cold steel whenever a bowl of sack has washed' 
 out memory of the morning's draught that we had together. 
 
•*The blow was arrested by the grasp of Michael Lambourne." 
 
KENILWORTB. 41 
 
 In the meanwhile, do you see, shog — tramp — ^begone; we are 
 two to one.'' 
 
 He spoke truth, for Vamey had taken the opportunity to 
 regain his weapon, and Tressilian perceived it was madness 
 to press the quarrel farther against such odds. He took his 
 purse from his side, and taking out two gold nobles, flung 
 them to Lambourne: " There, caitiff, is thy morning wage: 
 thou shalt not say thou hast been my guide unhired. Var- 
 ney, farewell; we shall meet where there are none to come 
 betwixt us." So saying, he turned round, and departed 
 through the postern door. 
 
 Vamey seemed to want the inclination, or perhaps the 
 power, for his fall had been a severe one, to follow his retreat- 
 ing enemy. But he glared darkly as he disappeared, and 
 then addressed Lambourne — "Art thou a comrade of Fos- 
 ter's, good fellow ? " 
 
 "Sworn friends, as the haft is to the knife," replied Michael 
 Lambourne. 
 
 " Here is a broad piece for thee; follow yonder fellow, and 
 see where he takes earth, and bring me word up to the man- 
 sion house here. Cautious and silent, thou knave, as thou 
 valuest thy throat." 
 
 "Enough said," replied Lambourne; "I can draw on a 
 scent as well as a sleuth-hound." 
 
 "Begone then," said Vamey, sheathing his rapier; and, 
 turning his back on Michael Lambourne, he walked slowly 
 toward the house. 
 
 Lamboume stopped but an instant to gather the nobles 
 which his late companion had flung toward him so uncere- 
 moniously, and muttered to himself, while he put them up in 
 his purse along with the gratuity of Vamey, " I spoke to yon- 
 der gulls of Eldorado. By St. Anthony, there is no Eldo- 
 rado for men of our stamp equal to bonny Old England! It 
 rains nobles, by Heaven; they lie on the grass as thick as dew- 
 drops; you may have them for gathering. And if I have not 
 my share of such glittering dewdrops, may my sword melt 
 like an iciclel '' 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 He was a man 
 Veraed in the world as pilot in his compasB. 
 The needle pointed ever to that interest 
 Which was his loadstar, and he spread his sails 
 With vantage to the gale of others' passion. 
 
 — The Deceiver, a Tragedy. 
 
 Anthony Foster was still engaged in debate with his fair 
 guest, who treated with scam every entreaty and request that 
 she would retire to her own apartment, when a whistle was 
 heard at the entrance door of the mansion. 
 
 "We are fairly sped now," said Foster; "yonder is thy 
 lord's signal, and what to say about the disorder which has 
 happened in this household, by my conscience, I know not. 
 Some evil fortune dogs the heels of that unhanged rogue 
 Lamboume, and he has 'scaped the gallows against every 
 chance, to come back and be the ruin of me! " 
 
 "Peace, sir," said the lady, "and undo the gate to your 
 master. My lord! — ^my dear lord! " she then exclaimed, has- 
 tening to the entrance of the apartment; then added, with a 
 voice expressive of disappointment, " Pooh! it is but Eichard 
 Vamey." 
 
 "Aye, madam," said Vamey, entering and saluting the lady 
 with a respectful obeisance, which she retumed with a care- 
 less mixture of negligence and of displeasure, "it is but 
 Richard Vamey; but even the first gray cloud should be ac- 
 ceptable, when it lightens in the east, because it announces 
 the approach of the blessed sun." 
 
 " How! comes my lord hither to-night? " said the lady, in 
 joyful yet startled agitation; and Anthony Foster caught up 
 the word, and echoed the question. Vamey replied to the 
 lady, that his lord purposed to attend her, and would have 
 proceeded with some compliment, when, running to the door 
 of the parlor, she called aloud, " Janet — Janet, come to my 
 tiring-room instantly." Then retuming to Vamey, she 
 asked if her lord sent any farther commendations to her. 
 
 "This letter, honored madam," said he, taking from his 
 bosom a small parcel wrapt in scarlet silk, "and with it a 
 token to the queen of his affections.'' With eager speed the 
 
KENILWOitTB, 43 
 
 lady hastened to undo the silken string which surrounded the 
 little packet, and failing to unloose readily the knot with 
 which it was secured, she again called loudly on Jaaet — 
 " Bring me a knife — scissors — aught that may undo this en- 
 vious knot! ^' 
 
 " May not my poor poniard serve, honored madam," said 
 Varney, presenting a small dagger of exquisite workmanship, 
 which hung in his Turkey-leather sword-belt. 
 
 " No, sir," replied the lady, rejecting the instrument which 
 he offered. " Steel poniard shall cut no true-love knot of 
 mine." 
 
 " It has cut many, however," said Anthony Foster, half- 
 aside, and looking at Varney. By this time the knot was dis- 
 entangled without any other help than the neat and nimble 
 fingers of Janet — a simply-attired, pretty maiden, the daugh- 
 ter of Anthony Foster, who came running at the repeated call 
 of her mistress. A necklace of orient pearl, the companion 
 of a perfumed billet, was now hastily produced from the 
 packet. The lady gave the one, after a slight glance, to the 
 charge of her attendant, while she read, or rather devoured, 
 the contents of the other. 
 
 " Surely, lady," said Janet, gazing with admiration at the 
 neck-string of pearls, " the daughters of Tyre wore no fairer 
 neck- jewels than these. And then the posy, * For a neck 
 that is fairer ' — each pearl is worth a freehold." 
 
 " Each word in this dear paper is worth the whole string, 
 my girl. But come to my tiring-room, girl; we must be 
 brave, my lord comes hither to-night. He bids me grace you. 
 Master Varney, and to me his wish is a law. I bid you to a 
 collation in my bower this afternoon, and you, too, Master 
 Foster. Give orders that all is fitting, and that suitable 
 preparations be made for my lord's reception to-night." 
 With these words she left the apartment. 
 
 " She takes state on her already," said Varney, " and dis- 
 tributes the favor of her presence, as if she were already the 
 partner of his dignity. Well, it is wise to practice before- 
 hand the part which fortune prepares us to play: the young 
 eagle must ga^e at the sun, ere he soars on strong wing to 
 meet it." 
 
 " If holding her head aloft," said Foster, " will keep her 
 eyes from dazzling, I warrant you the dame will not stoop her 
 crest. She will presently soar beyond reach of my whistle. 
 Master Varney. I promise you, she holds me already in 
 slight regard." 
 
44 WAVEBLET NOVELS. 
 
 "It is thine own fault, thou sullen, uninventive com- 
 panion," answered Varney, " who know'st no mode of control, 
 save downright brute force. Canst thou not make home 
 pleasant to her with music and toys? Canst thou not make 
 the out-of-doors frightful to her, with tales of goblins? 
 Thou livest here by the churchyard, and hast not even wit 
 enough to raise a ghost, to scare thy females into good dis- 
 cipline." 
 
 " Speak not thus, Master Vamey," said Foster; " the liv- 
 ing I fear not, but I trifle not nor toy with my dead neighbors 
 of the churchyard. I promise you, it requires a good heart 
 to live so near it; worthy Master Holdforth, the afternoon's 
 lecturer of St. Antonlin's, had a sore fright there the last 
 time he came to visit me." 
 
 "Hold thy superstitious tongue," answered Vamey; 
 and while thou talk'st of visiting, answer me, thou pal- 
 tering knave, how came Tressilian to be at the postern 
 door? " 
 
 " Tressilian! " answered Foster, " what know I of Tres- 
 silian? I never heard his name." 
 
 " Why, villain, it was the very Cornish chough to whom old 
 Sir Hugh Eobsart destined his pretty Amy, and hither the 
 hot-brained fool has come to look after his fair runaway. 
 There must be some order taken with him, for he thinks he 
 hath wrong, and is not the mean hind that will sit down with 
 it. Luckily he knows naught of my lord, but thinks he has 
 only me to deal with. But how, in the fiend's name, came he 
 hither?" 
 
 "Why, with Mike Lambourne, an you must know," an- 
 swered Foster. 
 
 "And who is Mike Lambourne?" demanded Yarney. 
 " By Heaven! thou wert best set up a bush over thy door, and 
 invite every stroller who passes by to see what thou shouldst 
 keep secret even from the sun and air." 
 
 " Aye! aye! this is a court-like requital of my service to you, 
 Master Eichard Varney," replied Foster. " Didst thou not 
 charge me to seek out for thee a fellow who had a good sword 
 and an unscrupulous conscience? and was I not busjdng my- 
 self to find a fit man — for, thank Heaven, my acquaintance 
 lies not amongst such companions — when, as Heaven would 
 have it, this tall fellow, who is in all his qualities the very 
 flashing knave thou didst wish, came hither to fix acquaint- 
 ance upon me in the plenitude of his impudence, and I ad- 
 mitted his claim, thinking to do you a pleasure; and now see 
 
KBNILWORTH, 45 
 
 what thanks I get for disgracing myself by converse with 
 him!'' 
 
 " And did he/' said Vamey, ^' being such a fellow as thy- 
 self, only lacking, I suppose, thy present humor of hypocrisy, 
 which lies as thin over thy hard ruffianly heart as gold lacquer 
 upon rusty iron — did he, I say, bring the saintly, sighing 
 Tressilian in his train? " 
 
 " They came together, by Heaven! " said Foster; " and 
 Tressilian — to speak Heaven's truth — obtained a moment's 
 interview with our pretty moppet while I was talking apart 
 with Lambourne." 
 
 " Improvident villain! we are both undone," said Vamey. 
 " She has of late been casting many a backward look to her 
 father's halls, whenever her lordly lover leaves her alone. 
 Should this preaching fool whistle her back to her old perch, 
 we were but lost men." 
 
 " No fear of that, my master," replied Anthony Foster; 
 " she is in no mood to stoop to his lure, for she yelled out on 
 seeing him as if an adder had stung her." 
 
 " That is good. Canst thou not get from thy daughter an 
 inkling of what passed between them, good Foster?" 
 
 " I tell you plain. Master Varney," said Foster, " my 
 daughter shall not enter our purposes or walk in our paths. 
 They may suit me well enough, who know how to repent of 
 my misdoings; but I will not have my child's soul committed 
 to peril either for your pleasure or my lord's. I may walk 
 among snares and pitfalls myself, because I have discretion, 
 but I will not trust the poor lamb among them." 
 
 " Why, thou suspicious fool, I were as averse as thou art 
 that thy baby-faced girl should enter in.to my plans, or walk 
 to Hell at her father's elbow. But indirectly thou mightst 
 gain some intelligence of her? " 
 
 "And so I did. Master Varney," answered Foster; "and 
 she said her lady called out upon the sickness of her father." 
 
 " Good! " replied Varney; " that is a hint worth catching, 
 and I will work upon it. But the country must be rid of this 
 Tressilian. I would have cumbered no man about the mat- 
 ter, for I hate him like strong poison — his presence is hem- 
 lock to me — and this day I had been rid of him, but that my 
 foot slipped, when, to speak truth, had not thy comrade yon- 
 der come to my aid, and held his hand, I should have known 
 by this time whether you ai*i I have been treading the path 
 to Heaven or Hell." 
 
 " And you can speak thus of such a risk! " said Foster. 
 
46 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 " You keep a stout heart, Master Yarney; for me, if I did not 
 hope to live many years, and to have time for the great work 
 of repentance, I would not go forward with you." 
 
 " Oh! thou shalt live as long as Methuselah," said Varney, 
 " and amass as much wealth as Solomon; and thou shalt re- 
 pent so devoutly that thy repentance shall be more famous 
 than thy villainy — and that is a bold word. But for all this, 
 Tressilian must be looked after. Thy ruffian yonder is gone 
 to dog him. It concerns our fortunes, Anthony." 
 
 " Aye — aye," said Foster sullenly, " this it is to be leagued 
 with one who knows not even so much of Scripture as that the 
 laborer is worthy of his hire. I must, as usual, take all the 
 trouble and risk." 
 
 " Risk! and what is the mighty risk, I pray you? " answered 
 Vamey. " This fellow will come prowling again about your 
 demesne or into your house, and if you take him for a house- 
 breaker or a park-breaker, is it not most natural you should 
 welcome him with cold steel or hot lead ? Even a mastiff will 
 pull down those who come near his kennel; and who shall 
 blame him?" 
 
 " Aye, I have a mastiff's work and a mastiff's wage among 
 you," said Foster. " Here have you. Master Varney, secured 
 a good freehold estate out of this old superstitious founda- 
 tion; and I have but a poor lease of this mansion under you, 
 voidable at your honor's pleasure." 
 
 " Aye, and thou wouldst fain convert thy leasehold into a 
 copyhold; the thing may chance to happen, Anthony Foster, 
 if thou dost good service for it. But softly, good Anthony; 
 it is not the lending a room or two of this old house for keep- 
 ing my lord's pretty paroquet — nay, it is not the shutting thy 
 doors and windows to keep her from flying off, that may de- 
 serve it. Remember, the manor and tithes are rated at the 
 clear annual value of seventy-nine pounds five shillings and 
 fivepence halfpenny, besides the value of the wood. Come^ — 
 come, thou must be conscionable; great and secret service may 
 deserve both this and a better thing. And now let thy knave 
 come and pluck off my boots. Get us some dinner, and a cup 
 of thy best wine. I must visit this mavis, brave in apparel, 
 unruffled in aspect, and gay in temper." 
 
 They parted, and at the hour of noon, which was then that 
 of dinner, they again met at their meal, Varney gayly dressed 
 like a courtier of the time, and even Anthony Foster im^ 
 proved in appearance, as far as dress could amend an exterior 
 so unfavorable. 
 
KENILWORTH. 47 
 
 This alteration did not escape Varney. When the meal 
 was finished, the cloth removed, and they were left to their 
 private discourse — " Thou art gay as a goldfinch, Anthony," 
 said Varney, looking at his host; "me thinks, thou wilt whistle 
 a jig anon; but 1 crave your pardon, that would secure your 
 ejection from the congregation of the zealous botchers, the 
 pure-hearted weavers, and the sanctified bakers of Abingdon, 
 who let their ovens cool while their brains get heated." 
 
 " To answer you in the spirit. Master Varney," said Foster, 
 "were — excuse the parable — to fling sacred and precious 
 things before swine. So I will speak to thee in the language 
 of the world, which he who is King of the World hath taught 
 thee to understand, and to profit by in no common measure." 
 
 " Say what thou wilt, honest Tony," replied Varney; " for 
 be it according to thine absurd faith, or according to thy most 
 villainous practice, it cannot choose but be rare matter to 
 qualify this cup of Alicant. Thy conversation is relishing 
 and poignant, and beats caviare, dried neat's-tongue, and all 
 other provocatives that give savor to good liquor." 
 
 "Well, then, tell me," said Anthony Foster, "is not our 
 good lord and master's turn better served, and his ante- 
 chamber more suitably filled, with decent, God-fearing men, 
 who will work his will and their own profit quietly, and with- 
 out worldly scandal, than that he should be manned, and at- 
 tended, and followed by such open debauchers and ruffianly 
 swordsmen as Tidesly, Killigrew, this fellow Lamboume, 
 whom you have put me to seek out for you, and other such, 
 who bear the gallows in their face and murder in their right 
 hand — who are a terror to peaceable men, and a scandal to my 
 lord's service?" 
 
 " Oh, content you, good Master Anthony Foster," answered 
 Varney; " he that flies at all manner of game must keep all 
 kinds of hawks, both short and long-winged. The course my 
 lord holds is no easy one, and he must stand provided at all 
 points with trusty retainers to meet each sort of service. He 
 must have his gay courtier, like myself, to ruffle it in the 
 presence-chamber, and to lay hand on hilt when any speaks 
 in disparagement of my lord's honor " 
 
 " Aye," said Foster, " and to whisper a word for him into a 
 fair lady's ear, when he may not approach her himself." 
 
 " Then," said Varney, going on without appearing to notice 
 the interruption, "he must have his lawyers — deep, subtle 
 pioneers — to draw his contracts, his pre-contracta, and his 
 post-contracts, and to find the way to make the most of grants 
 
48 WAVBRLET NOVELS, 
 
 of church lands, and commons, and licenses for monopoly. 
 And he must have physicians who can spice a cup or a caudle. 
 And he must have his cabalists, like Dee and Allan, for con- 
 juring up the devil. And he must have ruffling swordsmen, 
 who would fight the devil when he is raised and at the wildest. 
 And above all, without prejudice to others, he must have such 
 godly, innocent. Puritanic souls as thou, honest Anthony, 
 who defy Satan, and do his work at the same time." 
 
 " You would not say. Master Vamey," said Foster, " that 
 our good lord and master, whom I hold to be fulfilled in all 
 nobleness, would use such base and sinful means to rise as thy 
 speech points at? " 
 
 " Tush, man,'' said Varney, " never look at me with so sad 
 a brow; you trap me not, nor am I in your power, as your 
 weak brain may imagine, because I name to you freely the 
 engines, the springs, the screws, the tackle, and braces, by 
 which great men rise in stirring times. Sayest thou our 
 good lord is fulfilled of all nobleness? Amen, and so be it; 
 he has the more need to have those about him who are un- 
 scrupulous in his service, and who, because they know that 
 his fall will overwhelm and crush them, must wager both 
 blood and brain, soul and body, in order to keep him aloft; 
 and this I tell thee, because I care not who knows it." 
 
 " You speak truth. Master Varney," said Anthony Foster: 
 "he that is head of a party is but a botit on a wave, that 
 raises not itself, but is moved upward by the billow which it 
 floats upon." 
 
 " Thou art metaphorical, honest Anthony," replied Var- 
 ney: "that velvet doublet hath made an oracle of thee; we 
 will have thee to Oxford to take the degrees in the arts. And, 
 in the meantime, hast thou arranged all the matters which 
 were sent from London, and put the western chambers into 
 such fashion as may answer my lord's humor? '^ 
 
 " They may serve a king on his bridal day," said Anthony; 
 " and I promise you that Dame Amv sits in them yonder as 
 proud and gay as if she were the Queen of Sheba." 
 
 " 'Tis the better, good Anthony," answered Varney; " we 
 must found our future fortunes on her good liking." 
 
 " We build on sand then," said Anthony Foster; " for, sup- 
 posing that she sails away to court in all her lord's dignity 
 and authority, how is she to look back upon me, who am her 
 jailer as it were, to detain her here against her will, keeping 
 ner a caterpillar on an old wall, when she would fain be a 
 painted butterfly in a court garden? " 
 
KBNILWORTH. 4# 
 
 *'Fear not her displeasure, man/' said Vamey. "I will 
 show her that all thou hast done in this matter was good 
 service, both to my lord and her; and when she chips the 
 egg-shell and walks alone, she shall own we have hatched her 
 greatness." 
 
 " Look to yourself, Master Vamey," said Foster, " you may 
 misreckon foully in this matter. She gave you but a frosty 
 reception this morning, and, I think, looks on you, as well as 
 me, with an evil eye." 
 
 " You mistake her, Foster — you mistake her utterly. To 
 me she is bound by all the ties which can secure her to one 
 who has been the means of gratifying both her love and 
 ambition. Who was it that took the obscure Amy Eobsart, 
 the daughter of an impoverished and dotard knight, the des- 
 tined bride of a moonstruck, moping enthusiast like Edmund 
 Tressilian, from her lowly fates, and held out to her in pros- 
 pect the brightest fortune in England, or perchance in 
 Europe? Why, man, it was I — as I have often told thee — 
 that found opportunity for their secret meetings. It was I 
 who watched the wood while he beat for the deer. It was I 
 who, to this day, am blamed by her family as the companion 
 of her flight, and were I in their neighborhood, would be fain 
 to wear a shirt of better stuff than Holland linen, lest my ribs 
 should be acquainted with Spanish steel. Who carried their 
 letters? I. Who amused the old knight and Tressilian? I. 
 Who planned her escape ? It was I. It was I, in short, Dick 
 Vamey, who pulled this pretty little daisy from its lowly 
 nook, and placed it in the proudest bonnet in Britain." 
 
 "Aye, Master Varney," said Foster, "but it may be she 
 thinks that, had the matter remained with you, the flower had 
 been stuck so slightly into the cap that the first breath of a 
 changeable breeze of passion had blown the poor daisy to the 
 common." 
 
 " She should consider," said Vamey, smiling, " the true 
 faith I owed my lord and master prevented me at first from 
 counseling marriage; and yet I did counsel marriage when I 
 saw she would not be satisfied without the — the sacrament, or 
 the ceremony — which callest thou it, Anthony? " 
 
 " Still she has you at feud on another score," said Foster; 
 " and I tell it you that you may look to yourself in time. She 
 would not hide her splendor in this dark lantern of an old 
 monastic house, but would fain shine a countess amongst 
 countesses." 
 
 " Very natural, very right," answered Vamey; " but what 
 
iO WAVERLEY NOVELS, 
 
 have I to do with that? She may shine through horn or 
 through crystal at my lord's pleasure, I have naught to say 
 against it." 
 
 " She deems that you have an oar upon that side of the 
 boat, Master Yarney/' replied Foster, " and that you can pull 
 it or no, at your good pleasure. In a word, she ascribes the 
 secrecy and obscurity in which she is kept to your secret 
 counsel to my lord, and to my strict agency; and so she 
 loves us both as a sentenced man loves his judge and his 
 jailer." 
 
 " She must love us better ere she leave this place, An- 
 thony," answered Vamey. " If I have counseled for weighty 
 reasons that she remain here for a season, I can also advise 
 her being brought forth in the full blow of her dignity. But 
 I were mad to do so, holding so near a place to my lord's per- 
 son, were she mine enemy. Bear this truth in upon her as 
 occasion offers, Anthony, and let me alone for extolling you 
 in her ear, and exalting you in her opinion. Ka me, ka thee 
 — it is a proverb all over the world. The lady must know her 
 friends, and be made to judge of the power they have of 
 being her enemies; meanwhile, watch* her strictly, but with all 
 the outward observance that thy rough nature will permit. 
 'Tis an excellent thing that sullen look and bull-dog humor 
 of thine; thou shouldst thank God for it, and so should my 
 lord, for when there is aught harsh or hard-natured to be 
 done, thou dost it as if it flowed from thine own natural dog- 
 gedness, and not from orders, and so my lord escapes the 
 scandal. But, hark — someone knocks at the gate. Look out 
 at the window; let no one enter: this were an ill night to be 
 interrupted." 
 
 " It is he whom we spoke of before dinner," said Foster, as 
 he looked through the casement — "it is Michael Lamboume." 
 
 " Oh, admit him, by all means," said the courtier; " he 
 comes to give some account of his guest: it imports us much 
 to know the movements of Edmund Tressilian. Admit him, 
 I say, but bring him not hither. I will come to you pres- 
 ently in the abbot's library." 
 
 Foster left the room, and the courtier, who remained be- 
 hind, paced the parlor more than once in deep thought, his 
 arms folded on his bosom, until at length he gave vent to his 
 meditations in broken words, which we have somewhat en- 
 larged and connected, that his soliloquy may be intelligible 
 to the reader. 
 
 "'Tis true," he said, suddenly stopping, and resting his 
 
KENILWORTH. «1 
 
 right hand on the table at which they had been sitting, " this 
 base churl hath fathomed the very depth of my fear, and I 
 have been unable to disguise it from him. She loves me not; 
 I would it were as true that I loved not her! Idiot that I 
 was, to move her in my own behalf, when wisdom bade me be 
 a true broker to my lord! And this fatal error has placed me 
 more at her discretion than a wise man would willingly be at 
 that of the best piece of painted Eve^s flesh of them all. 
 Since the hour that my policy made so perilous a slip, I can- 
 not look at her without fear, and hate, and fondness so 
 strangely mingled that I know not whether, were it at my 
 choice, I would rather possess or ruin her. But she must not 
 leave this retreat until I am assured on what terms we are to 
 stand. My lord^s interest — and so far it is mine own, for if 
 he sinks I fall in his train — demands concealment of this ob- 
 scure marriage; and, besides, I will not lend her my arm to 
 climb to her chair of state, that she may set her foot on my 
 neck when she is fairly seated. I must work an interest in 
 her either through love or through fear; and who knows but 
 I may yet reap the sweetest and best revenge for her former 
 scorn? — that were indeed a masterpiece of court-like art! 
 Let me but once be her counsel-keeper; let her confide to me 
 a secret, did it but concern the robbery of a linnet's nest, and, 
 fair countess, thou art mine own! " He again paced the 
 room in silence, stopped, filled and drank a cup of wine, as if 
 to compose the agitation of his mind; and muttering, " Now 
 for a close heart and an open and unruffled brow," he left the 
 apartment. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 The dewB of summer night did fall. 
 
 The moon, sweet regent of the sky, 
 Silver'd the walls of Cumnor Hall, 
 
 And many an oak that grew thereby * 
 
 — MlOlKMB. 
 
 Four apartments, which occupied the westeri; side of the 
 old quadrangle at Cumnor Place, had been fitted up with 
 extraordinary splendor. This had been the work of several 
 days prior to that on which our story opened. Workmen sent 
 from London, and not permitted to leave the premises until 
 the work was finished, had converted the apartments in that 
 Bide of the building from the dilapidated appearance of a dis- 
 solved monastic house into the semblance of a royal palace. 
 A mystery was observed in all these arrangements: the work- 
 men came thither and returned by night, and all measures 
 were taken to prevent the prying curiosity of the villagers 
 from observing or speculating upon the changes which were 
 taking place in the mansion of their once indigent, but now 
 wealthy, neighbor Anthony Foster. Accordingly, the secrecy 
 desired was so far preserved that nothing got abroad but 
 vague and uncertain reports, which were received and rer- 
 peated, but without much credit being attached to them. 
 
 On the evening of which we treat, the new and highly deco- 
 rated suite of rooms were for the first time illuminated, and 
 that with a brilliancy which might have been visible half a 
 dozen miles off had not oaken shutters, carefully secured with 
 bolt and padlock, and mantled with long curtains of silk and 
 of velvet, deeply fringed with gold, prevented the slightest 
 gleam of radiance from being seen without. 
 
 The principal apartments, as we have seen, were four in 
 number, each opening into the other. Access was given to 
 them by a large scale staircase, as they were then called, of 
 unusual length and height, which had its landing-place at the 
 door of an ante-chamber, shaped somewhat like a gallery. 
 This apartment the abbot had used as an occasional council- 
 room, but it was now beautifully wainscoted with dark for- 
 
 * Thii Terse it the commencement of the ballad already quoted at what tnggetted 
 the »0Tel. 
 
KENILWORTB, W 
 
 eign wood of a brown color, and bearing a high polish, said 
 to have been brought from the Western Indies, and to have 
 been wrought in London with infinite difficulty, and much 
 damage to the tools of the workmen. The dark color of this 
 finishing was relieved by the number of lights in silver sconces 
 which hung against the walls, and by six large and richly- 
 framed pictures by the first masters of the age. A massy 
 oaken table, placed at the lower end of the apartment, served 
 to accommodate such as chose to play at the then fashionable 
 game of shovel-board; and there was at the other end an ele- 
 vated gallery for the musicians or minstrels, who might be 
 summoned to increase the festivity of the evening. 
 
 From this ante-chamber opened a banqueting-room of 
 moderate size, but brilliant enough to dazzle the eyes of the 
 spectator with the richness of its furniture. The walls, lately 
 so bare and ghastly, were now clothed with hangings of sky- 
 blue velvet and silver; the chairs were of ebony, richly carved, 
 with cushions corresponding to the hangings; and the place 
 of the silver sconces which enlightened the ante-chamber was 
 supplied by a huge chandelier of the same precious metal. 
 The floor was covered with a Spanish foot-cloth, or carpet, 
 on which flowers and fruits were represented in such glow- 
 ing and natural colors that you hesitated to place the foot on 
 such exquisite workmanship. The table, of old English oak, 
 stood ready covered with the finest linen, and a large portable 
 court-cupboard was placed with the leaves of its embossed 
 folding-doors displayed, showing the shelves within, deco- 
 rated with a full display of plate and porcelain. In the midst 
 of the table stood a salt-cellar of Italian workmanship — ^a 
 beautiful and splendid piece of plate about two feet high, 
 molded into a representation of the giant Briareus, whose 
 hundred hands of silver presented to the guest various sorts 
 of spices, or condiments, to season their food withal. 
 
 The third apartment was called the withdrawing-room. It 
 was hung with the finest tapestry, representing the fall of 
 Phaeton; for the looms of Flanders were now much occupied 
 on classical subjects. The principal seat of this apartment 
 was a chair of state, raised a step or two from the floor, and 
 large enough to contain two persons. It was surmounted by 
 a canopy, which, as well as the cushions, side-curtains, and 
 the very foot-cloth, was composed of crimson velvet, em- 
 broidered with seed-pearl. On the top of the canopy were 
 two coronets, resembling those of an earl and countess. 
 Stools covered with velvet, and some cushions disposed in the 
 
ft* WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 Moorish fashion, and ornamented with Arabesque needle- 
 work, supplied the place of chairs in this apartment, which 
 contained musical instruments, embroidery frames, and other 
 articles for ladies^ pastime. Besides lesser lights, the with- 
 drawing-room was illuminated by four tall torches of virgin 
 wax, each of which was placed in the grasp of a statue, repre- 
 senting an armed Moor, who held in his left arm a round 
 buckler of silver, highly polished, interposed betwixt his 
 breast and the light, which was thus brilliantly reflected as 
 from a crystal mirror. 
 
 The sleeping-chamber belonging to this splendid suite of 
 apartments was decorated in a taste less showy, but not less 
 rich, than had been displayed in the others. Two silver 
 lamps, fed with perfumed oil, diffused at once a delicious odor 
 and a trembling twilight-seeming shimmer through the quiet 
 apartment. It was carpeted so thick that the heaviest step 
 could not have been heard; and the bed, richly heaped with 
 down, was spread with an ample coverlet of silk and gold, 
 from under which peeped forth cambric sheets, and blankets 
 as white as the lambs which yielded the fleece that made 
 them. The curtains were of blue velvet, lined with crimson 
 silk, deeply festooned with gold, and embroidered with the 
 loves of Cupid and Psyche. On the toilet was a beautiful 
 Venetian mirror, in a frame of silver filigree, and beside it 
 stood a gold posset-dish to contain the night-draught. A 
 pair of pistols and a dagger, mounted with gold, were dis- 
 played near the head of the bed, being the arms for the night, 
 which were presented to honored guests, rather, it may be 
 supposed, in the way of ceremony than from any apprehen- 
 sion of danger. "We must not omit to mention, what was 
 more to the credit of the manners of the time, that in a small 
 recess, illuminated by a taper, were disposed two hassocks of 
 velvet and gold, corresponding with the bed furniture, be- 
 fore a desk of carved ebony. This recess had formerly been 
 the private oratory of the abbot, but the crucifix was removed, 
 and instead there were placed on the desk two Books of Com- 
 mon Prayer, richly bound and embossed with silver. With 
 this enviable sleeping-apartment, which was so far removed 
 from every sound, save that of the wind sighing among the 
 oaks of the park, that Morpheus might have coveted it for 
 his own proper repose, corresponded two wardrobes, or dress- 
 ing-rooms, as they are now termed, suitably furnished, and in 
 a style of the same magnificence which we have already de- 
 scribed. It ought to be added, that a part of the building in 
 
KENILWORTH. 55 
 
 the adjoining wing was occupied by the kitchen and its 
 offices, and served to accommodate the personal attendants of 
 the great and wealthy nobleman for whose use these magnifi- 
 cent preparations had been made. 
 
 The divinity for whose sake this temple had been decorated 
 was well worthy the cost and pains which had been bestowed. 
 She* was seated in the withdrawing-room which we have de- 
 scribed, surveying with the pleased eye of natural and inno- 
 cent vanity the splendor which had been so suddenly created, 
 as it were, in her honor. For, as her own residence at Cum- 
 nor Place formed the cause of the mystery observed in all the 
 preparations for opening these apartments, it was sedulously 
 arranged that, until she took possession of them, she should 
 have no means of knowing what was going forward in that 
 part of the ancient building, or of exposing herself to be seen 
 by the workmen engaged in the decorations. She had been, 
 therefore, introduced on that evening to a part of the mansion 
 which she had never yet seen, so different from all the rest 
 that it appeared, in comparison, like an enchanted palace. 
 And when she first examined and occupied these splendid 
 rooms, it was with the wild and unrestrained joy of a rustic 
 beauty, who finds herself suddenly invested with a splendor 
 which her most extravagant wishes had never imagined, and 
 at the same time with the keen feeling of an affectionate 
 heart, which knows that all the enchantment that surrounds 
 her is the work of the great magician Love. 
 
 The Countess Amy, therefore — for to that rank she was 
 exalted by her private but solemn union with England's 
 proudest earl — had for a time flitted hastily from room to 
 room, admiring each new proof of her lover and her bride- 
 groom's taste, and feeling that admiration enhanced, as she 
 recollected that all she gazed upon was one continued proof 
 of his ardent and devoted affection. " How beautiful are 
 these hangings! How natural these paintings, which seem to 
 contend with life! How richly wrought is that plate, which 
 looks as if all the galleons of Spain had been intercepted on 
 the broad seas to furnish it forth! And oh, Janet! " she ex- 
 claimed repeatedly to the daughter of Anthony Foster, the 
 close attendant, who, with equal curiosity, but somewhat less 
 ecstatic joy, followed on her mistress' footsteps — " Oh, Janet! 
 how much more delightful to think that all these fair things 
 have been assembled by his love, for the love of me! and that 
 this evening, — this very evening, — which grows darker every 
 instant, I shall thank him more for the love that has created 
 
5« WA VERLET NO VELS, 
 
 such an unimaginable paradise than for all the wonders it 
 contains.'' 
 
 " The Lord is to be thanked first," said the pretty Puritan, 
 " who gave thee, lady, the kind and courteous husband whose 
 love has done so much for thee. I, too, have done my poor 
 share; but if you thus run wildly from room to room, the toil 
 of my crisping and my curling pins will vanish like the frost- 
 work on the window when the sun is high." 
 
 " Thou sayest true, Janet," said the young and beautiful 
 countess, stopping suddenly from her tripping race of en- 
 raptured delight, and loo<king at herself from head to foot in 
 a large mirror, such as she had never before seen, and which, 
 indeed, had few to match it even in the Queen's palace — 
 "thou sayest true, Janet!" she answered, as she saw, with 
 pardonable self -applause, the noble mirror reflect such charms 
 as were seldom presented to its fair and polished surface; " I 
 have more of the milkmaid than the countess, with these 
 cheeks flushed with haste, and all these brown curls, which 
 you labored to bring to order, straying as wild as the tendrils 
 of an unpruned vine. My falling ruff is chafed too, and 
 sihows the neck and bosom more than is modest and seemly. 
 Come, Janet, we will practice state — ^we will go to the with- 
 drawing-room, my good girl, and thou shalt put these rebel 
 locks in order, and imprison within lace and cambric the 
 bosom that beats too high." 
 
 They went to the withdrawing-apartment accordingly, 
 where the countess playfully stretched herself upon the pile 
 of Moorish cushions, half-sitting, half-reclining, half-wrapt 
 in her own thoughts, half-listening to the prattle of her at- 
 tendant. 
 
 "While she was in this attitude, and with a corresponding 
 expression betwixt listlessness and expectation on her fine and 
 intelligent features, you might have searched sea and land 
 without finding anything half so expressive or half so lovely. 
 The wreath of brilliants which mixed with her dark brown 
 hair did not match in luster the hazel eye which a light brown 
 eyebrow, penciled with exquisite delicacy, and long eyelashes 
 of the same color, relieved and shaded. The exercise she had 
 just taken, her excited expectation and gratified vanity, spread 
 a glow over her fine features, which had been sometimes cen- 
 sured (as beauty as well as art has her minute critics) for 
 being rather too pale. The milk-white pearls of the necklace 
 which she wore, the same which she had just received as a 
 true-love token from her husband, were excelled in purity by 
 
KENILWORTH, 57 
 
 her teeth, and by the color of her skin, saving where the blush 
 of pleasure and self-satisfaction had somewhat stained the 
 necK with a shade of light crimson. " Now, have don€ with 
 these busy fingers, Janet," she said to her handmaiden, who 
 was still officiously employed in bringing her hair and her 
 dress into order — " have done, I say; I must see your father 
 ere my lord arrives, and also Master Eichard Varney, whom 
 my lord has highly in his esteem — but I could tell that of him 
 would lose him favor." 
 
 " Oh, do not do so, good my lady! " replied Janet: '' leave 
 him to God, who punishes the wicked in His own time; but do 
 not you cross Vamey's path, for so thoroughly hath he my 
 lord's ear, that few have thriven who have thwarted his 
 courses." 
 
 "And from whom had you this, my most righteous Ja- 
 net? " said the countess; " or why should I keep terms with so 
 mean a gentleman as Varney, being, as I am, wife to his mas- 
 ter and patron?" 
 
 "Nay, madam," replied Janet Foster, "your ladyship 
 knows better than I. But I have heard my father say he 
 would rather cross a hungry wolf than thwart Richard Var- 
 ney in his projects. And he has often charged me to have a 
 care of holding commerce with him." 
 
 "Thy father said well, girl, for thee," replied the lady, 
 " and I dare swear meant well. It is a pity, though, his face 
 and manner do little match his true purpose, for I think his 
 purpose may be true." 
 
 " Doubt it not, my lady," answered Janet — " doubt not 
 that my father purposes well, though he is a plain man, and 
 his blunt looks may belie his heart." 
 
 " I will not doubt it, girl, were it only for thy sake; and yet 
 he has one of those faces which men tremble when they look 
 on. I think even thy mother, Janet — nay, have done with 
 that poking-iron — could hardly look upon him without 
 quaking." 
 
 "If it were so, madam," answered Janet Foster, "my 
 mother had those who could keep her in honorable counte- 
 nance. Why, even you, my lady, both trembled and blushed 
 when Varney brought the letter from my lord." 
 
 " You are bold, damsel," said the countess, rising from the 
 cushions on which she sate half-reclined in the arms of her 
 attendant. " Know, that there are causes of trembling which 
 have nothing to do with fear. But, Janet," she added, imme- 
 diately relapsing into the good-natured and familiar tone 
 
58 WA VERLET NO VEL8. 
 
 which was natural to her, " believe me, I will do what credit 
 I can to your father, and the rather that you, sweetheart, are 
 his child. Alas! alas! " she added, a sudden sadness passing 
 over her fine features and her eyes filling with tears, " I ought 
 the rather to hold sympathy with thy kind heart that my own 
 poor father is uncertain of my fate, and they say lies sick and 
 sorrowful for my worthless sake! But I will soon cheer him: 
 the news of my happiness and advancement will make him 
 young again. And that I may cheer him the sooner " — she 
 wiped her eyes as she spoke — " I must be cheerful myself. 
 My lord must not find me insensible to his kindness, or sor- 
 rowful when he snatches a visit to his recluse, after so long an 
 absence. Be merry, Janet: the night wears on, and my lord 
 must soon arrive. Call thy father hither, and call Vamey 
 also. I cherish resentment against neither; and though 1 
 may have some room to be displeased with both, it shall be 
 their own fault if ever a complaint against them reaches the 
 earl through my means. Call them hither, Janet.'' 
 
 Janet Foster obeyed her mistress; and in a few minutes 
 after, Vamey entered the withdrawing-room with the grace- 
 ful ease and unclouded front of an accomplished courtier, 
 skilled, under the veil of external politeness, to disguise his 
 own feelings and to penetrate those of others. Anthony 
 Foster plodded into the apartment after him, his natural 
 gloomy vulgarity of aspect seeming to become yet more re- 
 markable from his clumsy attempt to conceal the mixture of 
 anxiety and dislike with which he looked on her over whom 
 he had hitherto exercised so severe a control, now so splen- 
 didly attired, and decked with so many pledges of the interest 
 which she possessed in her husband's affections. The blun- 
 dering reverence which he made, rather at than to the count- 
 ess, had confession in it. It was like the reverence which 
 the criminal makes to the judge, when he at once owns his 
 guilt and implores mercy, which is at the same time an impu- 
 dent and embarrassed attempt at defense or extenuation, a 
 confession of a fault, and an entreaty for lenity. 
 
 Vamey, who, in right of his gentle blood, had pressed into 
 the room before Anthony Foster, knew better what to say 
 than he, and said it with more assurance and a better grace. 
 
 The countess greeted him indeed with an appearance of 
 cordiality, which seemed a complete amnesty for whatever 
 she might have to complain of. She rose from her seat and" 
 advanced two steps toward him, holding forth her hand as she ' 
 said, " Master Eichard Vamey, you brought me this morning'^ 
 
KENILWORTH. 69 
 
 such welcome tidings that I fear surprise and joy made me 
 neglect my lord and husband's charge to receive you with dis- 
 tinction. We offer you our hand, sir, in reconciliation." 
 
 "I am unworthy to touch it/' said Vamey, dropping on 
 one knee, '^ save as a subject honors that of a prince." 
 
 He touched with his lips those fair and slender fingers, so 
 richly loaded with rings and jewels; then rising, with grace- 
 ful gallantry, was about to hand her to the chair of state, 
 when she said, " No, good Master Eichard Varney, I take not 
 my place there until my lord himself conducts me. I am for 
 the present but a disguised countess, and will not take dignity 
 on me until authorized by him whom I derive it from." 
 
 " I trust, my lady," said Foster, " that in doing the com- 
 mands of my lord your husband, in your restraint and so 
 forth, I have not incurred your displeasure, seeing that I did 
 but my duty toward your lord and mine; for Heaven, as Holy 
 Writ saith, hath given the husband supremacy and dominion 
 over the wife — I think it runs so, or something like it." 
 
 " I receive at this moment so pleasant a surprisei. Master 
 Foster," answered the countess, " that I cannot but excuse 
 the rigid fidelity which secluded me from these apartments 
 until they had assumed an appearance so new and so splen- 
 did." 
 
 " Aye, lady," said Foster, " it hath cost many a fair crown; 
 and that more need not be wasted than is absolutely neces- 
 sary, I leave you till my lord's arrival with good Master 
 Richard Varney, who, as I think, hath somewhat to say to you 
 from your most noble lord and husband. Janet, follow me, 
 to see that all be in order." 
 
 "No, Master Foster," said the countess, "we will your 
 daughter remains here in our apartment; out of ear-shot, how- 
 ever, in case Varney hath aught to say to me from my lord." 
 
 Foster made his clumsy reverence and departed, with an 
 aspect that seemed to grudge the profuse expense which had 
 been wasted upon changing his house from a bare and ruinous 
 grange to an Asiatic palace. When he was gone, his daugh- 
 ter took her embroidery frame and went to establish herself 
 at the bottom of the apartment, while Richard Varney, with 
 a profoundly humble courtesy, took the lowest stool he could 
 find, and placing it by the side of the pile of cushions on 
 which the countess had now again seated herself, sat with his 
 eyes for a time fixed on the ground, and in profound silence. 
 
 " I thought, Master Varney," said the countess, when she 
 saw he was not likely to open the conversation, " that you had 
 
60 WAVEBLET NOVELS. 
 
 somefthing to oommunicate from my lord and husband; do at 
 least I understood Master Foster, and therefore I removed my 
 waiting-maid. If I am mistaken, I will recall her to my side; 
 for her needle is not so absolutely perfect in tent and cross- 
 stitch but what my superintendence is advisable." 
 
 " Lady," said Vamey, " Foster was partly mistaken in my 
 purpose. It was not from but of your noble husband, and my 
 approved and most noble patron, that I am led, and indeed 
 bound to speak." 
 
 " The theme is most welcome, sir," said the countess, 
 " whether it be of or from my noble husband. But be brief, 
 for I expect his hasty approach." 
 
 " Briefly, then, madam," replied Vamey, " and boldly, for 
 my argument requires both haste and courage — ^you have this 
 day seen Tressilian? " 
 
 " I have, sir, and what of that? " answered the lady, some- 
 what sharply. 
 
 "Nothing that concerns me, lady," Vamey replied with 
 humility. " But, think you, honored madam, that your lord 
 will hear it with equal equanimity? " 
 
 " And wherefore should he not? To me alone was Tres- 
 silian's visit embarrassing and painful, for he brought news of 
 my good father's illness." 
 
 " Of your father's illness, madam! " answered Vamey. 
 " It must have been sudden then — very sudden; for the mes- 
 senger whom I dispatched, at my lord's instance, found the 
 good knight on the hunting-field, cheering his beagles with 
 his wonted jovial field-cry. I trust Tressilian has but forged 
 this news. He hath his reasons, madam, as you well know- 
 for disquieting your present happiness." 
 
 " You do him injustice. Master Vamey," replied the count- 
 ess, with animation — "you do him much injustice. He is 
 the freest, the most open, the most gentle heart that breathes. 
 My honorable lord ever excepted, I know not one to whom 
 falsehood is more odious than to Tressilian." 
 
 " I crave your pardon, madam," said Vamey, " I meant the 
 gentleman no injustice — I knew not how nearly his cause 
 affected you. A man may, in some circumstances, disguise 
 the truth for fair and honest purpose; for were it to be 
 always spoken, and upon all occasions, this were no world to 
 live in." 
 
 " You have a courtly conscience. Master Vamey," said thej 
 countess, " and your veracity will not, I think, interrupt your 
 preferment in the world, such as it is. But touching Tresr 
 
KBNILWORTH. 61 
 
 silian — I must do him justice, for I have done him wrong, as 
 none knows better than thou: Tressilian's consdenoe is of 
 other mold. The world thou speakest of has not that which 
 could bribe him from the way of truth and honor; and for 
 living in it with a soiled fame, the ermine would as soon seek 
 to lodge in the den of the foul polecat. For this my father 
 loved him. For this I would have loved him — ^if I could. 
 And yet in this case he had what seemed to him, unknowing 
 alike of my marriage and to whom I was united, such power- 
 ful reasons to withdraw me from this place, that I well trust 
 he exaggerated much of my father's indisposition, and that 
 thy better news may be the truer." 
 
 "Believe me they are, madam," answered Vamiey. "I pre- 
 tend not to be a champion of that same naked virtue called 
 truth to the very entrance. I can consent that her charms 
 be hidden with a veil, were it but for decency's sake. But 
 you must think lower of my head and heart than is due to one 
 whom my noble lord deigns to call his friend, if you suppose 
 I could willfully and unnecessarily palm upon your ladyship 
 a falsehood, so soon to be detected, in a matter which con- 
 cerns your happiness." 
 
 " Master Varney," said the countess, " I know that my lord 
 esteems you, and holds you a faithful and a good pilot in 
 those seas in which he has spread so high and so venturous a 
 sail. Do not suppose, therefore, I meant hardly by you when 
 I spoke the truth in Tressilian's vindication. I am, as you 
 well know, country-bred, and like plain rustic truth better 
 than courtly compliment; but I must change my fashions 
 with my sphere, I presume." 
 
 " True, madam," said Vamey, smiling, " and though y^a 
 speak now in jest, it will not be amiss that in earnest your 
 present speech had some connection with your real purpose. 
 A court dame — take the most noble — the most virtuous — the 
 most unimpeachable, that stands around our Queen's throne 
 — would, for example, have shunned to speak the truth, or 
 what she thought such, in praise of a discarded suitor, beiore 
 the dependent and confidant of her noble husband." 
 
 " And wherefore," said the countess, coloring impatiently, 
 " should I not do justice to Tressilian's worth before my hus- 
 band's friend — ^before my husband himself — before the whole 
 world?" 
 
 " And with the same openness," said Vamey, " your lady- 
 ship will this night tell my noble lord your husband that 
 Tressilian has discovered your place of residence, so anxiously 
 
eSJ WAVBBLET NOVELS, 
 
 concealed from the world, and that he has had an interview 
 with you?" 
 
 " Unquestionably/' said the countess. " It will be the first 
 thing I tell him, together with every word that Tressilian 
 said, and that I answered. I shall speak my own shame in 
 this, for Tressilian's reproaches, less just than he esteemed 
 them, were not altogether unmerited — I will speak, therefore, 
 with pain, but I will speak, and speak all." 
 
 " Your ladyship will do your pleasure," answered Vamey; 
 '^ but methinks it were as well, since nothing calls for so frank 
 a disclosure, to spare yourself this pain, and my noble lord 
 the disquiet, and Master Tressilian, since belike he must be 
 thought of in thQ matter, the danger which is like to ensue." 
 
 " I can see naught of all these terrible consequences," said 
 the lady composedly, " unless by imputing to my noble lord 
 unworthy thoughts, which I am sure never harbored in his 
 generous heart." 
 
 " Far be it from me to do so," said Vamey. And then, 
 after a moment's silence, he added, with a real or affected 
 plainness of manner very different from his usual smooth 
 courtesy — " Come, madam, I will ehow you that a courtier 
 dare speak truth as well as another, when it concerns the weal 
 of those whom he honors and regards, aye, and although it 
 may infer his own danger." He waited as if to receive com- 
 mands, or at least permission, to go on, but as the lady re- 
 mained silent, he proceeded, but obviously with caution. 
 " Look around you," he said, " noble lady, and observe the 
 barriers with which this place is surrounded, the studious 
 mystery with which the brightest jewel that England pos- 
 sesses is secluded from the admiring gaze. See with what 
 rigor your walks are circumscribed, and your movements re^ 
 strained at the beck of yonder churlish Foster. Consider all 
 this, and judge for yourself what can be the cause." 
 
 " My lord's pleasure," answered the countess; " and I am 
 bound to seek no other motive." 
 
 " His pleasure it is indeed," said Vamey; " and his pleasure 
 arises out of a love worthy of the object which inspires it. 
 But he who possesses a treasure, and who values it, is oft anx- 
 ious, in proportion to the value he puts upon it, to secure it 
 from the depredations of others." 
 
 " What needs all this talk, Master Vamey? " said the lady, 
 in reply. " You would have me believe that my noble lord 
 is jealous? Suppose it true, I know a cure for jealousy." 
 
 " Indeed, madam! " said Varney. 
 
KENILWORTH. 68 
 
 ** It is," replied the lady, " to speak the truth to my lord at 
 all times, to hold up my mind and my thoughts before him 
 as pure as that polished mirror; so that when he looks into 
 my heart he shall only see his own features reflected there." 
 
 " I am mute, madam," answered Vamey; " and as I have 
 no reason to grieve for Tressilian, who would have my heart's 
 blood were he able, I shall reconcile myself easily to what may 
 befall the gentleman in consequence of your frank disclosure 
 of his having presumed to intrude upon your solitude. You, 
 who know my lord so much better than I, will judge if he be 
 likely to bear the insult unavenged." 
 
 " Nay, if I could think myself the cause of Tressilian's 
 ruin," said the countess — " I who have already occasioned 
 him so much distress, I might be brought to be silent. And 
 yet what will it avail, since he was seen by Foster, and I think 
 by someone else? No, no, Varney, urge it no more. I will 
 tell the whole matter to my lord; and with such pleading for 
 Tressilian's folly as shall dispose my lord's generous heart 
 rather to serve than to punish him." 
 
 " Your judgment, madam," said Varney, " is far superior 
 to mine, especially as you may, if you will, prove the ice be- 
 fore you step on it, by mentioning Tressilian's name to my 
 lord, and observing how he endures it. For Foster and his 
 attendant, they know not Tressilian by sight, and I can easily 
 give them some reasonable excuse for the appearance of an 
 unknown stranger." 
 
 The lady paused for an instant, and then replied, " If, Var- 
 ney, it be indeed true that Foster knows not as yet that the 
 man he saw was Tressilian, I own I were unwilling he should 
 learn what nowise concerns him. He bears himself already 
 with austerity enough, and I wish him not to be judge or 
 privy-councilor in my affairs." 
 
 " Tush," said Vamey, " what has the surly groom to do 
 with your ladyship's concerns? No more, surely, than the 
 ban-dog which watches his courtyard. If he is in aught dis- 
 tasteful to your ladyship, I have interest enough to have him 
 exchanged for a seneschal that shall be more agreeable to 
 you." 
 
 " Master Varney," said the countess, " let us drop this 
 theme: when I complain of the attendants whom my lord has 
 placed around me, it must be to my lord himself. Hark! I 
 hear the trampling of a horse. He comes! — he comes! " sihe 
 exclaimed, jumping up in ecstasy. 
 
 " I cannot think it is he," said Varney, " or that you can 
 
«4 WA VERLET NO VEL8. 
 
 hear the tread of his horse through the closely mantled case- 
 ments." 
 
 " Stop me not, Vamey; my ears are keener than thine — ^it 
 is he! " 
 
 '' But, madam! — but, madam! " exclaimed Varney anx- 
 iously, and still placing himself in her way, " I trust that 
 what I have spoken in humble duty and service will not be 
 turned to my ruin. I hope that my faithful advice will not 
 be bewrayed to my prejudice. I implore that " 
 
 " Content thee, man — content thee! " said the countess, 
 " and quit my skirt: you are too bold to detain me. Content 
 thyself, I think not of thee." 
 
 At this moment the folding-doors flew wide open, and a 
 man of majestic mien, muffled in the folds of a long dark 
 riding-cloak, entered the apartment. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 This is he 
 Who rides on the court gale, controls its tides, 
 Knows all their secrets shoals and fatal eddies, 
 Whose frown abases, and whose smile exalts. 
 He shines like a rainbow— and, perchance, 
 His colours are as transient. 
 
 —Old Play. 
 
 There was some little displeasure and confusion on the 
 countese' brow, owing to her struggle with Vamey's perti- 
 nacity; but it was exchanged for an expression of the purest 
 joy and affection, as she threw herself into the arms of the 
 noble stranger who entered, and clasping him to her bosom, 
 exclaimed, " At length — at length thou art come! " 
 
 Varney discreetly withdrew as his lord entered, and Janet 
 was about to do the same, when her mistress signed to her to 
 remain. She took her place at the farther end of the apart- 
 ment, and continued standing, as if ready for attendance. 
 
 Meanwhile the earl, for he was of no inferior rank, returned 
 his lady^s caress with the most affectionate ardor, but affected 
 to resist when she strove to take his cloak from him. 
 
 " Nay," she said, " but I will unmantle you. I must see if 
 you have kept your word to me, and come as the great earl 
 men call thee, and not, as heretofore, like a private cavalier." 
 
 " Thou art like the rest of the world. Amy," said the earl, 
 suffering her to prevail in the playful contest: "the jewels, 
 and feathers, and silk are more to them than the man whom 
 they adorn: many a poor blade looks gay in a velvet scabbard." 
 
 " But so cannot men say of thee, thou noble earl," said his 
 lady, as the cloak dropped on the floor, and showed him 
 dressed as princes when they ride abroad; " thou art the good 
 and well-tried steel, whose inly worth deserves, yet disdains, its 
 outward ornaments. Do not think Amy can love thee better 
 in this glorious garb than she did when she gave her heart to 
 him who wore the russet-brown cloak in the woods of Devon." 
 
 "And thou too," said the earl, as gracefully and majesti- 
 cally he led his beautiful countess toward the chair of state 
 which was prepared for them both — " thou too, my love, hast 
 donned a dress which becomes thy rank, though it cannot 
 improve thy beauty. What think'st thou of our court taste?" 
 
6« WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 The lady cast a sidelong glance upon the great mirror as 
 they passed it by, and then said, " I know not how it is, but I 
 think not of my own person while I look at the reflection of 
 thine. Sit thou there," she said, as they approached the 
 chair of state, " like a thing for men to worship and to 
 wonder at." 
 
 "Aye, love," said the earl, "if thou wilt share my state 
 with me." 
 
 " Not so," said the countess; " I will sit on this footstool at 
 thy feet, that I may spell over thy splendor, and learn, for 
 the first time, how princes are attired." 
 
 And with a childish wonder which her youth and rustic 
 education rendered not only excusable but becoming, mixed 
 as it was with a delicate show of the most tender conjugal 
 affection, she examined and admired from head to foot the 
 noble form and princely attire of him who formed the 
 proudest ornament of the court of England's Maiden Queen, 
 renowned as it was for splendid courtiers, as well as for wise 
 counselors. Eegarding affectionately his lovely bride, and 
 gratified by her unrepressed admiration, the dark eye and 
 noble features of the earl expressed passions more gentle than 
 the commanding and aspiring look which usually sate upon 
 his broad forehead and in the piercing brilliancy of his dark 
 eye; and he smiled at the simplicity which dictated the ques- 
 tions she put to him concerning the various ornaments with 
 which he was decorated. 
 
 " The embroidered strap, as thou callest it, around my 
 knee," he said, " is the English Garter — an ornament which 
 kings are proud to wear. See, here is the star which belongs 
 to it, and here the Diamond George, the jewel of the order. 
 You have heard how King Edward and the Countess of 
 Salisbury " 
 
 " Oh, I know all that tale," said the countess, slightly 
 blushing, " and how a lady's garter became the proudest 
 badge of English chivalry." 
 
 " Even so," said the earl; " and this most honorable order 
 I had the good hap to receive at the same time with three 
 most noble associates — the Duke of Norfolk, the Marquis of 
 Northampton, and the Earl of Rutland. I was the lowest of 
 the four in rank; but what then? he that climbs a ladder must 
 begin at the first round." 
 
 " But this other fair collar, so richly wrought, with some 
 jewel like a sheep hung by the middle attached to it, what," 
 Bflid the young countess, " does that emblem signify? " 
 
KBNILWORTB, 6T 
 
 " This collar/' said the earl, " with its double f usilles inter- 
 changed with these knobs, which are supposed to present 
 flint-stones, sparkling with fire, and sustaining the jewel you 
 inquire about, is the badge of the noble order of the Golden 
 Fleece, once appertaining to the house of Burgundy. It hath 
 high privileges, my Amy, belonging to it, this most noble 
 order; for even the king of Spain himself, who hath now suc- 
 ceeded to the honors and demesnes of Burgundy, may not sit 
 in judgment upon a knight of the Golden Fleece, unless by 
 assistance and consent of the great chapter of the order." 
 
 " And is this an order belonging to the cruel king of 
 Spain? " said the countess. " Alas, my noble lord! that you 
 will defile your noble English breast by bearing such an em- 
 blem! Bethink you of the most unhappy Queen Mary's days, 
 when this same Philip held sway with her in England, and of 
 the piles which were built for our noblest, and our wisest, and 
 our most truly sanctified prelates and divines. And will you, 
 whom men call the standard-bearer of the true Protestant 
 faith, be contented to wear the emblem and mark of such a 
 Komish tyrant as he of Spain? " 
 
 " Oh, content you, my love," answered the earl; " we who 
 spread our sails to gales of court fa.vor cannot always display 
 the ensigns we love the best, or at all times refuse sailing under 
 colors which we like not. Believe me, I am not the less good 
 Protestant that for policy I must accept the honor offered me 
 by Spain, in admitting me to this his highest order of knight- 
 hood. Besides, it belongs properly to Flanders; and Egmont, 
 Orange, and others have pride in seeing it displayed on an 
 English bosom." 
 
 " Nay, my lord, you know your own path best," replied the 
 countess. " And this other collar, to what country does this 
 fair jewel belong?" 
 
 "To a very poor one, my love," replied the eaxl: "this is 
 the order of St. Andrew, revived by the last James of Scot- 
 land. It was bestowed on me when it was thought the young 
 widow of France and Scotland would gladly have wedded an 
 English baron; but a free coronet of England is worth a crown 
 
 I matrimonial held at the humor of a woman, and owning only 
 the poor rocks and bogs of the north." 
 The countess paused, as if what the earl last said had ex- 
 cited some painful but interesting train of thought; and, as 
 sho still remained silent, her husband proceeded. 
 " And now, loveliest, your wish is gratified, and you have 
 seen your vassal in s^ich oi hig iiup. axraj[ as accords with rid- 
 
68 WAVEBLET NOVELS, 
 
 ing vestments; for robes of state and coronets are only for 
 princely halls." 
 
 " Well, then/' said the countess, " my gratified wish has, as 
 usual, given rise to a new one." 
 
 " And what is it thou canst ask that I can deny? " said the 
 fond husband. 
 
 "I wished to see my earl visit this obscure and secret 
 bower," said the countess, " in all his princely array; and now, 
 methinks, I long to sit in one of his princely halls, and see 
 him enter dressed in sober russet, as when he won poor Amy 
 Robsart's heart." 
 
 " That is a wish easily granted," said the earl; " the sober 
 russet shall be donned to-morrow, if you will." 
 
 " But shall I," said the lady, " go with you to one of your 
 castles, to see how the richness of your dwelling will corre- 
 spond with your peasant habit? " 
 
 " Why, Amy," said the earl, looking around, " are not these 
 apartments decorated with sufficient splendor? I gave the 
 most unbounded order, and, methinks, it has been indiffer- 
 ently well obeyed; but if thou canst tell me aught which re- 
 mains to be done, I will instantly give direction." 
 
 " Nay, my lord, now you mock me," replied the countess; 
 " the gayety of this rich lodging exceeds my imagination as 
 much as it does my desert. But shall not your wife, my love 
 — at least one day soon — be surrounded with the honor which 
 arises neither from the toils of the mechanic who decks her 
 apartment nor from the silks and jewels with which your 
 generosity adorns her, but which is attached to her place 
 among the matronage, as the avowed wife of England's 
 noblest earl?" 
 
 " One day! " said her husband. " Yes, Amy, my love, one 
 day this shall surely happen; and, believe me, thou canst not 
 wish for that day more fondly than I. With what rapture 
 could I retire from labors of state, and cares and toils of ambi- 
 tion, to spend my life in dignity and honor on my own broad 
 domains, with thee, my lovely Amy, for my friend and com- 
 panion! But, Amy, this cannot yet be; and these dear but 
 stolen interviews are all I can give to the loveliest and the best 
 beloved of her sex." 
 
 " But why can it not be? " urged the countess, in the softest 
 tones of persuasion. " Why can it not immediately take 
 place — this more perfect, this uninterrupted union, for which 
 you say you wish, and which the laws of God and man alike 
 comjnand? Ah! did you but desire it half as much as you 
 
EENILWORTH. 6« 
 
 say, mighty and favored as you are, who or what should bar 
 your attaining your wish? " 
 
 The earPs brow was overcast. 
 
 " Amy," he said, " you speak of what you understand not. 
 We that toil in courts are like those who climb a mountain of 
 loose sand: we dare make no halt until some projecting rock 
 afford us a secure footing and resting-place; if we pause 
 sooner, we slide down by our weight, an object of universal 
 derision. I stand high, but I stand not secure enough to 
 follow my own inclination. To declare my marriage were to 
 be the artificer of my own ruin. But, believe me, I will reach 
 a point, and that speedily, when I can do justice to thee and 
 to myself. Meantime, poison not the bliss of the present mo- 
 ment by desiring that which cannot at present be. Let me 
 rather know whether all here is managed to thy liking. How 
 does Foster bear himself to you? in all things respectful, I 
 trust, else the fellow shall dearly rue it." 
 
 "He reminds me sometimes of the necessity of this pri- 
 vacy," answered the lady, with a sigh; " but that is reminding 
 me of your wishes, and therefore I am rather bound to him 
 than disposed to blame him for it." 
 
 " I have told you the stem necessity which is upon us," 
 replied the earl. "Foster is, I note, somewhat sullen of 
 mood, but Varney warrants to me his fidelity and devotion to 
 my service. If thou hast aught, however, to complain of the 
 mode in which he discharges his duty, he shall abye it." 
 
 " Oh, I have naught to complain of," answered the lady, 
 " so he discharges his task with fidelity to you; and his daugh- 
 ter Janet is the kindest and best companion of my solitude, 
 her little air of precision sits so well upon her! " 
 
 " Is she indeed? " said the earl; " she who gives you pleas- 
 ure must not pass unrewarded. Come hither, damsel." 
 
 " Janet," said the lady, " come hither to my lord." 
 
 Janet, who, as we already noticed, had discreetly retired to 
 some distance, that her presence might be no check upon the 
 private conversation of her lord and lady, now came forward; 
 and as she made her reverential courtesy, the earl could not 
 avoid smiling at the contrast which the extreme simplicity of 
 her dress, and the prim demureness of her looks, made with a 
 very pretty countenance and a pair of black eyes, that laughed 
 in spite of their mistress' desire to look grave. 
 
 "I am bound to you, pretty damsel," said the earl, "for 
 the contentment which your service hath given to this lady." 
 As he said this, he took from his finger a ring of some price. 
 
^ WA VERLEY NO VEL8. 
 
 and offered it to Janet Foster, adding, " Wear this, for her 
 sake and for mine." 
 
 " I am well pleased, my lord," answered Janet demurely, 
 " that my poor service hath gratified my lady, whom no one 
 can draw nigh to without desiring to please; but we of the 
 precious Master Holdforth's congregation seek not, like the 
 gay daughters of this world, to twine gold around our fingers, 
 or wear stones upon our necks, like the vain women of Tyre 
 and of Sidon." 
 
 " Oh, what! you are a grave professor of the precise sister- 
 hood, pretty Mrs. Janet," said the earl, " and I think your 
 father is of the same congregation in sincerity. I like you 
 both the better for it; for I have been prayed for, and wished 
 well to, in your congregations. And you may the better 
 afford the lack of ornament, Mrs. Janet, because your fingers 
 are slender and your neck white. But here is what neither 
 Papist nor Puritan, latitudinarian nor precisian, ever boggles 
 or makes mouths at. E'en take it, my girl, and employ it as 
 you list." 
 
 So saying, he put into her hand five broad gold pieces of 
 Philip and Mary. 
 
 " I would not accept this gold neither," said Janet, " but 
 that I hope to find a use for it which will bring a blessing on 
 us all." 
 
 ** Even please thyself, pretty Janet," said the earl, ^^ and I 
 shall be well satisfied. And I prithee let them hasten the 
 evening collation. " 
 
 " I have bidden Master Vamey and Master Foster to sup 
 with us, my lord," said the countess, as Janet retired to obey 
 the earl's commands; " has it your approbation ? " 
 
 " What you do ever must have so, my sweet Amy," replied 
 her husband; " and I am the better pleased thou hast done 
 them this grace, because Eichard Vamey is my sworn man, 
 and a close brother of my secret council; and for the present 
 I must needs repose much trust in this Anthony Foster." 
 
 " I had a boon to beg of thee, and a secret to tell thee, my 
 dear lord," said the countess, with a faltering accent. 
 
 " Let both be for to-morrow, my love," replied the earl. 
 "I see they open the folding-doors into the banqueting- 
 parlor, and, as I have ridden far and fast, a cup of wine will 
 not be unacceptable." 
 
 So saying, he led his lovely wife into the next apartment, 
 where Varney and Foster received them with the deepest 
 reverences, which the first paid after the fashion of the court. 
 
KSNILWORTB. M 
 
 and the second after that of the congregation. The earl re- 
 turned their salutation with the negligent courtesy of one 
 long used to such homage; while the countess repaid it with 
 a punctilious solicitude which showed it was not quite so 
 familiar to her. 
 
 The banquet at which the company seated themselves cor- 
 responded in magnificence with the splendor of the apart- 
 ment in which it was served up, but no domestic gave his 
 attendance. Janet alone stood ready to wait upon the com- 
 pany; and, indeed, the board was so well supplied with all 
 that could be desired that little or no assistance was necessary. 
 The earl and his lady occupied the upper end of the table, and 
 Vamey and Foster sat beneath the salt, as was the custom 
 with inferiors. The latter, overawed perhaps by society to 
 which he was altogether unused, did not utter a single 
 syllable during the repast; while Vamey, with great tact and 
 discernment, sustained just so much of the conversation as, 
 without the appearance of intrusion on his part, prevented it 
 from languishing, and maintained the good-humor of the earl 
 at the highest pitch. This man was indeed highly qualified 
 by nature to discharge the part in which he found himself 
 - placed, being discreet and cautious on the one hand, and on 
 the other quick, keen-witted, and imaginative; so that even 
 the countess, prejudiced as she was against him on many ac- 
 counts, felt and enjoyed his powers of conversation, and was 
 more disposed than she had ever hitherto found herself to 
 join in the praises which the earl lavished on his favorite. 
 The hour of rest at length arrived, the earl and countess re- 
 tired to their apartment, and all was silent in the castle for 
 the rest of the night. 
 
 Early on the ensuing morning, Vamey acted as the earl's 
 chamberlain as well as his master of horse, though the latter 
 was his proper office in that magnificent household, where 
 knights and gentlemen of good descent were well contented 
 to hold such menial situations as nobles themselves held in 
 that of the sovereign. The duties of each of these charges 
 were familiar to Varney, who, sprung from an ancient but 
 
 I somewhat decayed family, was the earFs page during his 
 earlier and more obscure fortunes, and faithful to him in 
 adversity, had afterward contrived to render himself no less 
 useful to him in his rapid and splendid advance to fortune; 
 thus establishing in him an interest resting both on present 
 and past services, which rendered him an almost indispensa- 
 ble sharer of his confidence. 
 
12 WA VERLET NO VEL8. 
 
 '' Help me to do on a plainer riding-suit, Vamey," said the 
 earl, as Ue laid aside his morning-gown, flowered with silk 
 and hned with sables, " and put these chains and f ettens there 
 [pointing to the collars of the vajious orders which lay on the 
 table] into their place of security; my neck last night was 
 well-nigh broke with the weight of them. I am half of the 
 mind that they shall gall me no more. They are bonds which 
 knaves have invented to fetter fools. How think'st thou, 
 Varney? " 
 
 " Faith, my good lord," said his attendant, " I think fetters 
 of gold are like no other fetters: they are ever the weightier 
 the welcomer." 
 
 "For all that, Varney," replied his master, "I am well- 
 nigh resolved they shall bind me to the court no longer. 
 What can further service and higher favor give me, beyond 
 the rank and large estate which I have already secured? 
 What brought my father to the block, but that he could not 
 bound his wishes within right and reason? I have, you 
 know, had mine own ventures and mine own escapes; I am 
 well-nigh resolved to tempt the sea no farther, but sit me 
 down in quiet on the shore." 
 
 "And gather cockle-shells, with Dan Cupid to aid you,'' 
 said Vamey. 
 
 " How mean you by that, Vamey? " said the earl, some- 
 what hastily. 
 
 " Nay, my lord," said -Vaxney, " be not angry with me. If 
 your lordship is happy in a lady so rarely lovely that, in order 
 to enjoy her company with somewhat more freedom, you are 
 willing to part with all you have hitherto lived for, some of 
 your poor servants may be sufferers; but your bounty hath 
 placed me so high, that I shall ever have enough to maintain 
 a poor gentleman in the rank befitting the high office he has 
 held in your lordship^s family." 
 
 " Yet you seem discontented when I propose throwing up 
 a dangerous game, which may end in the ruin of both of us." 
 
 " I, my lord! " said Vamey; " surely I have no cause to re- 
 gret your lordship's retreat. It will not be Eichard Varney 
 who will incur the displeasure of majesty, and the ridicule of 
 the court, when the stateliest fabric that ever was founded 
 upon a prince's favor melts away like a morning frost-work. 
 I would only have you yourself be assured, my lord, ere you 
 take a step which cannot be retracted, that you consult your 
 fame and happiness in the course you propose." 
 
 " Speak on, then, Varney," said the earl; " I tell thee 1 
 
KENILWORTH. ^t 
 
 have determined nothing, and will weigh all considerations on 
 either side." 
 
 " Well, then, my lord," replied Vamey, " we will suppose 
 the step taken, the frown frowned, the laugh laughed, and 
 the moan moaned. You have retired, we will say, to some 
 one of your most distant castles, so far from court that you 
 hear neither the sorrow of your friends nor the glee of your 
 enemies. We will suppose, too, that your successful rival will 
 be satisfied — a thing greatly to he doubted — with abridging 
 and cutting away the branches of the great tree which so long 
 kept the sun from him, and that he does not insist upon tear- 
 ing you up by the roots. Well, the late prime favorite of 
 England, who wielded her general's staff and controlled her 
 parliaments, is now a rural baron, hunting, hawking, drinking 
 fat ale with country esquires, and mustering his men at the 
 command of the high sheriff '^ 
 
 '^ Varney, forbear! " said the earl. 
 
 " Nay, my lord, you must give me leave to conclude my 
 picture. Sussex governs England, the Queen's health failsj 
 the succession is to be settled — a road is opened to ambition 
 more splendid than ambition ever dreamed of. You hear all 
 this as you sit by the hob, under the shade of your hall chim- 
 ney. You then begin to think what hopes you have fallen 
 from, and what insignificance you have embraced, and all that 
 you might look babies in the eyes of your fair wife oftener 
 than once a fortnight.'' 
 
 " I say, Varney," said the earl, " no more of this. I said 
 not that the step, which my own ease and comfort would urge 
 me to, was to be taken hastily, or without due consideration 
 to the public safety. Bear witness to me, Varney; I subdue 
 my wishes of retirement, not because I am moved by the call 
 of private ambition, but that I may preserve the position in 
 which I may best serve my countr}^ at the hour of need. 
 Order our horses presently. I will wear, as formerly, one of 
 the livery cloaks, and ride before the portmantle. Thou 
 shalt be master for the day, Varney; neglect nothing that 
 can blind suspicion. We will to horse ere men are stirring. 
 I will but take leave of my lady, and be ready. I impose a 
 restraint on my own poor heart, and wound one yet more dear 
 to me; but the patriot must subdue the husband." 
 
 Having said this in a melancholy but firm accent, he left 
 the dressing apartment. 
 
 " I am glad thou art gone," thought Vamey, " or, practiced 
 as I am in the follies of mankind, I had laughed in the very 
 
f^ WA YERLEY NO VEL8. 
 
 face of thee! Thou mayst tire as thou wilt of thy new 
 bauble, thy pretty piece of painted flesh there, I will not be 
 thy hindrance. But of thinje old bauble, ambition, thou 
 shalt not tire, for as you climb the hill, my lord, you must 
 drag Eichard Vamey up with you; and if he can urge you to 
 the ascent he means to profit by, believe me he will spare 
 neither whip nor spur. And for you, my pretty lady, that 
 would be countess outright, you were best not thwart my 
 courses, lest you are called to an old reckoning on a new score. 
 * Thou shalt be master,' did he say? By my faith, he may 
 find that he spoke truer than he is aware of. And thus he, • 
 who, in the estimation of so many wise-judging men, can 
 match Burleigh and Walsingham in policy, and Sussex in 
 war, becomes pupil to his own menial; and all for a hazel eye 
 and a little cunning red and white, and so falls ambition. 
 And yet, if the charms of mortal woman could excuse a man's 
 politic pate for becoming bewildered, my lord had the excuse 
 at his right hand on this blessed evening that has last passed 
 over us. Well, let things roll as they may, he shall make me 
 great, or I will make myself happy; and for that softer piece 
 of creation, if she speak not out her interview with Tressilian, 
 as well I think she dare not, she also must traffic with me for 
 concealment and mutual support in spite of all this scorn. I 
 must to the stables. Well, my lord, I order your retinue now; 
 the time may soon come that my master of the horse shall 
 order mine own. What was Thomas Cromwell but a smith's 
 son, and he died 'my lord' — on a scaffold, doubtlessi, but 
 that, too, was in character. And what was Ealph Sadler but 
 the clerk of Cromwell, and he has gazed eighteen fair lord- 
 ships, — via! I know my steerage as well as they." 
 
 So saying, he left the apartment. 
 
 In the meanwhile the earl had re-entered the bedchamber, 
 bent on taking a hasty farewell of the lovely countess, and 
 scarce daring to trust himself in private with her, to hear re- 
 quests again urged which he found it difficult to parry, yet 
 which his recent conversation with his master of horse had 
 determined him not to grant. 
 
 He found her in a white cymar of silk lined with furs, her 
 little feet unstockinged and hastily thrust into slippers, her 
 unbraided hair escaping from under her midnight coif — with 
 little array but her own loveliness, rather augmented than 
 diminished by the grief which she felt at the approaching 
 moment of separation. 
 
 " Now, God be with thee, my dearest and loveliest! " said 
 
KmiLWOBTB. ^6 
 
 the earl, scarce tearing himself from her embrace, yet again 
 returning to fold her again and again in his arms, and again 
 bidding farewell, and again returning to kiss and bid adieu 
 once more. " The sun is on the verge of the blue horizon — I 
 dare not stay. Ere this I should have been ten miles from 
 hence." 
 
 Such were the words with which at length he strove to cut 
 short their parting interview. 
 
 " You will not grant my request, then? " said the countess. 
 "Ah, false knight! did ever lady, with bare foot in slipper, 
 seek boon of a brave knight, yet return with denial? " 
 
 " Anything, Amy — anything thou canst ask I will grant," 
 answered the earl; " always excepting," he said, " that which 
 might ruin us both." 
 
 " Nay," said the countess, " I urge not my wish to be ac- 
 knowledged in the character which would make me the envy 
 of England — as the wife, that is, of my brave and noble lord, 
 the first as the most fondly beloved of English nobles. Let 
 me but share the secret with my dear father! Let me but 
 end his misery on my unworthy account; they say he is ill, the 
 good old kind-hearted maa! " 
 
 " They say? " asked the earl hastily; " who says? Did not 
 Varney convey to Sir Hugh all we dare at present tell him 
 concerning your happiness and. welfare? And has he not 
 told you that the good old knight was following, with good 
 heart and health, his favorite and wonted exercise? Who has 
 dared put other thoughts into your head? " 
 
 " Oh, no one, my lord — no one," said the countess, some- 
 thing alarmed at the tone in which the question was put; 
 " but yet, my lord, I would fain be assured by mine own eye- 
 sight that my father is well." 
 
 " Be contented. Amy; thou canst not now have communi- 
 cation with thy father or his house. Were it not a deep 
 course of policy to commit no secret unnecessarily to the cus- 
 tody of more than must needs be, it were sufficient reason for 
 secrecy that yonder Cornishman — yonder Trevanion, or 
 Tressilian, or whatever his name is — haunts the old knight's 
 house, and must necessarily know whatever is communicated 
 there." 
 
 " My lord," answered the countess, " I do not think it so. 
 My father has been long noted a worthy and honorable man; 
 and for Tressilian, if we can pardon ourselves the ill we have 
 wrought him, I will wager the coronet I am to share with you 
 one day that he is incapable of returning injury for injury." 
 
1^ WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 " I will not trust him, however, Amy," said her husband— 
 '* by my honor, I will not trust him. I would rather the foul 
 fiend intermingle in our secret than this Tressilian! " 
 
 " And why, my lord? " said the countess, though she shud- 
 dered slightly at the tone of determination in which he spoke; 
 " let me but know why you think thus hardly of Tressilian? " 
 
 " Madam," replied the earl, " my will ought to be a suffi- 
 cient reason. If you desire more, consider how this Tres- 
 silian is leagued, and with whom. He stands high in the 
 opinion of this Katcliffe, this Sussex, against whom I am 
 barely able to maintain my ground in the opinion of our sus- 
 picious mistress; and if he had me at such advantage. Amy, 
 as to become acquainted with the tale of our marriage before 
 Elizabeth were fitly prepared, I were an outcast from her 
 grace forever — a bankrupt at once in favor and in fortune, 
 perhaps, for she hath in her a touch of her father Henry — a 
 victim, and it may be a bloody one, to her offended and jealous 
 resentment." 
 
 " But why, my lord," again urged his lady, " should you 
 deem thus injuriously of a man of whom you know so little? 
 What you do know of Tressilian is through me, and it is I 
 who assure you that in no circumstances will he betray your 
 secret. If I did him wrong in your behalf, my lord, I am now 
 the more concerned you should do him justice. You are 
 offended at my speaking of him; what would you say had I 
 actually myself seen him? " 
 
 " If you had," rephed the earl, " you would do well to keep 
 that interview as secret as that which is spoken in a confes- 
 sional. I seek no one's ruin; but he who thrusts himself on 
 my secret privacy were better look well to his future walk. 
 The bear * brooks no one to cross his awful path." 
 
 " Awful, indeed! " said the countess, turning very pale. 
 
 '^ You are ill, my love," said the earl, supporting her in his 
 arms; " stretch yourself on your couch again; it is but early 
 day for you to leave it. Have you aught else, involving less 
 than my fame, my fortune, and my life, to ask of me? " 
 
 "Nothing, my lord and love," answered the countess 
 faintly; " something there was that I would have told you, 
 but your anger has driven it from my recollection." 
 
 ^' Reserve it till our next meeting, my love," said the earl 
 fondly, and again embracing her; " and barring only those 
 requests which I cannot and dare not grant, thy wish must be 
 
 * The Leicester cognizance was the ancient device adopted by his father, when Eat! 
 of Warwick, the bear and ragged staff. 
 
KENILWORTE, 11 
 
 more than England and all its dependencies can fulfill if it is 
 not gratified to the letter." 
 
 Thus saying, he at length took farewell. At the bottom of 
 the staircase he received from Varney an ample livery cloak 
 and slouched hat, in which he wrapped himself so as to dis- 
 guise his person and completely conceal his features. Horses 
 were ready in the courtyard for himself and Vamey; for one 
 or two of his train, intrusted with the secret so far as to know 
 or guess that the earl intrigued with a beautiful lady at tlmt 
 mansion, though her name and quality were unknown to 
 them, had already been dismissed over night. 
 
 Anthony Foster himself had in hand the rein of the earl's 
 palfrey, a stout and able nag for the road; while his old serv- 
 ing-man held the bridle of the more showy and gallant steed 
 which Richard Varney was to occupy in the character of 
 master. 
 
 As the earl approached, however, Varney advanced to hold 
 his master's bridle, and to prevent Foster from paying that 
 duty to the earl which he probably considered as belonging 
 to his own office. Foster scowled at an interference which 
 seemed intended to prevent his paying his court to his patron, 
 but gave place to Varney; and the earl, mounting without 
 farther observation, and forgetting that his assumed charac- 
 ter of a domestic threw him into the rear of his supposed 
 master, rode pensively out of the quadrangle, not without 
 waving his hand repeatedly in answer to the signals which 
 were made by the countess with her kerchief from the win- 
 dows of her apartment. 
 
 While his stately form vanished under the dark archway 
 which led out of the quadrangle, Vamey muttered, '^ There 
 goes fine policy — the servant before the master! " then, as he 
 disappeared, seized the moment to speak a word with Foster. 
 *' Thou look'st dark on me, Anthony," he said, " as if I had 
 deprived thee of a parting nod of my lord; but I have moved 
 him to leave thee a better remembrance for thy faithful serv- 
 ice. See here! a purse of as good gold as ever chinked under 
 a miser's thumb and forefinger. Aye, count them, lad," said 
 he, as Foster received the gold with a grim smile, ^' and add 
 to them the goodly remembrance he gave last night to 
 Janet." 
 
 "How's this! — Show's this!" said Anthony Foster hastily; 
 " gave he gold to Janet? " 
 
 " Aye, man, wherefore not? does not her service to his fair 
 lady require guerdon? " 
 
is WA YEELEY NO VELS. 
 
 " She shall have none on't," said Foster: ^' she shall return 
 it. I know his dotage on one face is as brief as it is deep. 
 His affections are as fickle as the moon." 
 
 " Why, Foster, thou art mad; thou dost not hope for such 
 good fortune as that my lord should cast an eye on Janet? 
 Who, in the fiend's name, would listen to the thrush when 
 the nightingale is singing? " 
 
 *' Thrush or nichtingale, all is one to the fowler; and, 
 Master Yarney, you can sound the quail-pipe most daintily to 
 wile wantons into his nets. I desire no such devil's prefer- 
 ment for Janet as you have brought many a poor maiden to. 
 Dost thou laugh? I will keep one limb of my family, at least, 
 from Satan's clutches, that thou mayst rely on. She shall 
 restore the gold." 
 
 '' Aye, or give it to thy keeping, Tony, which will serve as 
 well," answered Varney; ^^but I have that to eay which is 
 more serious. Our lord is returning to court in an evil hu- 
 mor for us." 
 
 "How meanest thou?" said Foster. "Is he tired already 
 of his pretty toy — his pla3rthing yonder? He has purchased 
 her at a monarch's ransom, and I warrant me he rues his 
 bargain." 
 
 " Not a whit, Tony," answered the master of the horse; 
 "he dotes on her, and will forsake the court for her; then 
 down go hopes, possessions, and safety: church lands are re- 
 sumed, Tony, and well if the holders be not called to account 
 in Exchequer." 
 
 " That were ruin," said Foster, his brow darkening with 
 apprehensions; " and all this for a woman! Had it been for 
 his soul's sake, it were something; and I sometimes wish I 
 myself could fling away the world that cleaves to me, and be 
 as one of the poorest of our church." 
 
 " Thou art like enough to be so, Tony," answered Varney; 
 " but I think the devil will give thee little credit for thy com- 
 pelled poverty, and so thou loseet on all hands. But follow 
 my counsel, and Cumnor Place shall be thy copyhold yet. 
 Say nothing of this Tressilian's visit — not a word until I 
 give thee notice." 
 
 "And wherefore, I pray you?" asked Foster suspiciously. 
 
 "Dull beast!" replied Varney; " in my lord's present humor 
 it were the ready way to confirm him in his resolution of re- 
 tirement, should he know that his lady was haunted with 
 such a specter in his absence. He would be for playing the 
 dragon himself over his golden fruit, and then, Tony, thy 
 
KENILWOBTH. 79 
 
 occupation is ended. A word to the wise. Farewell — ^I must 
 follow him." 
 
 He turned his horse, struck him with the spurs, and rod§ 
 off under the archway in pursuit of his lord. 
 
 " Would thy occupation were ended, or thy neck broken, 
 damned pander! " said Anthony Foster. " But I must fol- 
 low his beck, for his interest and mine are the same, and he 
 can wind the proud earl to his will. Janet shall give me 
 those pieces though; they shall be laid oiit in some way for 
 God's service, and I will keep them separate in my strong 
 chest till I can fall upon a fitting employment for them. No 
 contagious vapor shall breathe on Janet: she shall remain 
 pure as a blessed spirit, were it but to pray God for her father. 
 I need her prayers, for I am at a hard pass. Strange reports 
 are abroad concerning my way of life. The congregation 
 look cold on me, and when Master Holdforth spoke of hjrpo- 
 crites being like a whited sepulcher, which within was full of 
 dead men's bones, methought he looked full at me. The 
 Eomish was a comfortable faith, Lambourne spoke true in 
 that. A man had but to follow his thrift by such ways as 
 offered — tell his beads — hear a mass — confess, and be ab- 
 solved. These Puritans tread a harder and a rougher path; 
 but I will try — I will read my Bible for an hour ere I again 
 open mine iron chest." 
 
 Varney, meantime, spurred after his lord, whom he found 
 waiting for him at the postern gate of the park. 
 
 " You waste time, Varney," said the earl, " and it presses. 
 I must be at Woodstock before I can safely lay aside my dis- 
 guise, and till then I journey in some peril." 
 
 " It is but two hours' brisk riding, my lord," said Vamey; 
 "for me, I only stopped to enforce your commands of care 
 and secrecy on yonder Foster, and to inquire about the abode 
 of the gentleman whom I would promote to your lordship's 
 train in the room of Trevors." 
 
 " Is he fit for the meridian of the ante-chamber, think'st 
 thou? " said the earl. 
 
 " He promises well, my lord," replied Yamey; " but if your 
 lordship were pleased to ride on, I could go back to Cumnor, 
 and bring him to your lordship at Woodstock before you are 
 out of bed." 
 
 " Why, I am asleep there, thou knoTrest, at this moment," 
 said the earl; " and I pray you not to spare horse-flesh, that 
 you may be with me at my levee." 
 
 So saying, he gave his horse the spur, and proceeded on Ms 
 
80 WA VEELEY NO VEL8, 
 
 journey, while Yamey rode back to Cumnor by the public 
 road, avoiding the park. The latter alighted at the door of 
 ^the bonny Black Bear, and desired to speak with Master 
 Michael Lambourne. That respectable character was not 
 long of appearing before his new patron, but it was with 
 downcast looks. 
 
 " Thou hast lost the scent," said Varney, " of thy com- 
 rade Tressilian. I know it by thy hang-dog visage. Is this 
 thy alacrity, thou impudent knave? " 
 
 " Cog^s wounds! '' said Lambourne, " there was never a trail 
 so finely hunted. I saw him to earth at mine uncle's here — 
 stuck to him like beeswax — saw him at supper — watched him 
 to his chamber, and presto — he is gone next morning, the 
 very hosttler knows not where! " 
 
 " This sounds like practice upon me, sir," replied Vamey; 
 ^^ and if it prove so, by my soul you shall repent it! " 
 
 " Sir, the best hound will be sometimes at fault," answered 
 Lambourne; " how should it serve me that this fellow should 
 have thus evanished? You may ask mine host, Giles Gosling 
 — ask the tapster and hostler — ask Cicely, and the whole 
 household, how I kept eyes on Tressilian while he was on foot. 
 On my soul, I could not be expected to watch him like a sick- 
 nurse, when I had seen him fairly a-bed in his chamber. 
 That will be allowed me, surely." 
 
 Varney did, in fact, make some inquiry among the house- 
 hold, which confirmed the truth of Lamboume's statement. 
 Tressilian, it was unanimously agreed, had departed suddenly 
 and unexpectedly, betwixt night and morning. 
 
 " But I will wrong no one," said mine host; " he left on the 
 table in his lodging the full value of his reckoning, with some 
 allowance to the servants of the house, which was the less 
 necessary that he saddled his own gelding, as it seems, without 
 the hostler^s assistance." 
 
 Thus satisfied of the rectitude of Lamboume's conduct, 
 Vamey began to talk to him upon his future prospects, and 
 the mode in which he meant to bestow himself, intimating 
 that he understood from Foster he was not disinclined to 
 enter into the household of a nobleman. 
 
 " Have you," said he, " ever been at court? " 
 
 '^ No," replied Lambourne; " but ever since I was ten yeaj^ 
 old I have dreamt once a week that I was there, and made my 
 fortune." 
 
 " It may be your own fault if your dream comeg not true/' 
 said Vamey. " Are you needy? " 
 
KwmLWonim. 61 
 
 ^^TJm!" replied Lambourne; "I love pleasure." 
 
 " That is a sufficient answer, and an honest one," said Var- 
 ney. " Know you aught of the requisites expected from the 
 retainer of a rising courtier? " 
 
 ^'I have imagined them to myself, sir," answered Lam- 
 bourne; " as, for example, a quick eye, a close mouth, a ready 
 and bold hand, a sharp wit, and a blunt conscience." 
 
 " And thine, I suppose," said Vamey, " has had its edge 
 blunted long since? " 
 
 " I cannot remember, sir, that its edge was ever over keen," 
 replied Lambourne. " When I was a youth, I had some few 
 whimsies, but I rubbed them partly out of my recollection on 
 the rough grindstone of the wars, and what remained I 
 washed out in the broad waves of the Atlantic." 
 
 " Thou hast served, then, in the Indies? " 
 
 " In both East and West," answered the candidate for court 
 service, " by both sea and land; I have served both the Portu- 
 gal and the Spaniard, both the Dutchman and the French- 
 man, and have made war on our own account with a crew of 
 jolly fellows who held there was no peace beyond the Line." * 
 
 " Thou mayst do me, and my lord, and thyself, good serv- 
 ice," said Varney, after a pause. " But observe, I know the 
 world, and answer me truly, canst thou be faithful? " 
 
 " Did you not know the world," answered Lambourne, " it 
 were my duty to say * aye,' without further circumstance, 
 and to swear to it with life and honor, and so forth. But as 
 it seems to me that your worship is one who desires rather 
 honest truth than politic falsehood, I reply to you that I can 
 be faithful to the gallows' foot, aye, to the loop that dangles 
 from it, if I am well used and well recompensed — ^not other- 
 wise." 
 
 " To thy other virtues thou canst add, no doubt," said Var- 
 ney, in a jeering tone, " the knack of seeming serious and re- 
 ligious, when the moment demands it? " 
 
 "It would cost me nothing," said Lambourne, "to say 
 * yes,' but to speak on the square I must needs siay ' no.' If 
 you want a hypocrite, you may take Anthony Foster, who, 
 from his childhood, had some sort of phantom haunting him, 
 which he called religion, though it was that sort of godliness 
 which always ended in being great gain. But I have no such 
 knack of it." 
 
 * Sir Francis Dral^e, Morgan, and many a bold buccaneer of those days, were, in fact, 
 little better than pirates. 
 
 I 
 
8« WA VERLEY NO VEL8. 
 
 " Well," replied Vamey, " if thou hast no hypocrisy, hast 
 thou not a nag here in the stahle? " 
 
 "Aye, sir," said Lambourne, "that shall take hedge and 
 ditch with my lord duke's best hunters. When I made a 
 little mistake on Shooter's Hill, and stopped an ancient 
 grazier whose pouches were better lined than his brain-pan, 
 the bonny bay nag carried me sheer off, in spite of the whole 
 hue and cry." 
 
 " Saddle him then, instantly, and attend me," said Vamey. 
 " Leave thy clothes and baggage under charge of mine host, 
 and I will conduct thee to a service in which, if thou do not 
 better thyself, the fault shall not be fortune's, but thine 
 own." 
 
 " Brave and hearty! " said Lambourne, " and I am mounted 
 in an instant. Knave hosstler, saddle my nag without the 
 loss of one second, as thou dost value the safety of thy noddle. 
 Pretty Cicely, take half this purse to comfort thee for my 
 sudden departure." 
 
 " Gogsnouns! " replied the father, " Cicely wants no such 
 token from thee. Go away, Mike, and gather grace if thou 
 canst, though I think thou goest not to the land where it 
 grows." 
 
 " Let me look at this Cicely of thine, mine host," said Var- 
 ney; " I have heard much talk of her beauty." 
 
 " It is a sunburnt beauty," said mine host, " well qualified 
 to stand out rain and wind, but little calculated to please such 
 critical gallants as yourself. She keeps her chamber, and 
 cannot encounter the glance of such sunny-day courtiers as 
 my noble guest." 
 
 " Well, peace be with her, my good host," answered Var- 
 ney; " our horses are impatient, we bid you good day." 
 
 " Does my nephew go with you, so please you? " said Gos- 
 ling. 
 
 " Aye, such is his purpose," answered Ei chard Vamey. 
 
 "You are right — fully right," replied mine host — "you 
 are, I say, fully right, my kinsman. Thou hast got a gay 
 horse, see thou light not unaware upon a halter; or, if thou 
 wilt needs be made immortal by means of a rope, which thy 
 purpose of following this gentleman renders not unlikely, I 
 charge thee to find a gallows as far from Cumnor as thou 
 conveniently mayst; and so I commend you to your 
 saddle." 
 
 The master of the horse and his new retainer mounted 
 accordingly, leaving the landlord to conclude his ill-omened 
 
KENILWOBTH, 83 
 
 farewell to himself and at leisure; and set off together at a 
 rapid pace, which prevented conversation until the ascent of a 
 steep sandy hill permitted them to resume it. 
 
 " You are contented, then," said Vamey to his companion, 
 " to take court service ? " 
 
 " Aye, worshipful sir, if you like my terms as well as I like 
 yours." 
 
 *' And what are your terms? " demanded Vamey. 
 
 " If I am to have a quick eye for my patron's interest, he 
 must have a dull one toward my faults," said Lamboume. 
 
 " Aye," said Vamey, " so they lie not so grossly open that 
 he must needs break his shins over them." 
 
 " Agreed," said Lamboume. " Next, if I mn down game, 
 I must have the picking of the bones." 
 
 "That is but reason," replied Vamey, " so that your betters 
 are served before you." 
 
 " Good," said Lamboume; " and it only remains to be said, 
 that if the law and I quarrel, my patron must bear me out, 
 for that is a chief point." 
 
 " Eeason again," said Vamey, " if the quarrel hath hap- 
 pened in your master's service." 
 
 "For the wage and so forth, I say nothing," proceeded 
 Lamboume; " it is the secret guerdon that I must live by." 
 
 " Never fear," said Vamey; " thou shalt have clothes and 
 spending money to ruffle it with the best of thy degree, for 
 thou goest to a household where you have gold, as they say, 
 by the eye." 
 
 " That jumps all with my humor," replied Michael Lam- 
 bourne; " and it only remains that you tell me my majster's 
 name." 
 
 " My name is Master Eichard Vamey," answered his com- 
 panion. 
 
 " But I mean," said Lamboume, " the name of the noble 
 •lord to whose service you are to prefer me." 
 
 " How, knave, art thou too good to call me master? " said 
 Vamey hastily; " I would have thee bold to others, but not 
 Baucy to me." 
 
 "I crave your worship's pardon," said Lamboume; "but 
 you seemed familiar with Anthony Foster; now I am familiar 
 with Anthony myself." 
 
 " Thou art a shrewd knave, I see," replied Vamey. " Mark 
 me — I do indeed propose to introduce thee into a nobleman's 
 household; but it is upon my person thou wilt chiefly wait, 
 and upon my countenance that thou wilt depend. I am his 
 
84 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 master of horse. Thou wilt soon know his name; it is cum 
 that shakes the council and wields the state." 
 
 " By this light, a brave spell to conjure with," said Lam- 
 boume, " if a man would discover hidden treasures! " 
 
 "Used with discretion, it may prove so," replied Vamey; 
 "but mark — if thou conjure with it at thine own hand, it may 
 raise a devil who will tear thee in fragments." 
 
 " Enough said," replied Lamboume; " I will not exceed my 
 limits." 
 
 The travelers then resumed the rapid rate of traveling 
 which their discourse had interrupted, and soon arrived at the 
 royal park of Woodstock. This ancient possession of the 
 crown of England was then very different from what it had 
 been when it was the residence of the fair Eosamond, and the 
 scene of Henry the Second's secret and illicit amours; and yet 
 more unlike to the scene which it exhibits in the present daiy, 
 ^when Blenheim House commemorates the victory of Marl- 
 borough, and no less the genius of Vanburgh, though decried 
 in his own time by persons of taste far inferior to his own. It 
 was, in Elizabeth's time, an ancient mansion in bad repair, 
 which had long ceased to be honored with the royal residence, 
 to the great impoverishment of the adjacent village. The 
 inhabitants, however, had made several petitions to the Queen 
 ;;to have the favor of the sovereign's countenance occasionally 
 ^bestowed upon them; and upon this very business, ostensibly 
 at least, was the noble lord whom we have already introduced 
 to our readers a visitor at Woodstock. 
 
 Vamey and Lamboume galloped without ceremony into 
 the courtyard of the ancient and dilapidated mansion, which 
 presented on that morning a scene of bustle which it had not 
 exhibited for two reigns. Officers of the earl's household, 
 liverymen and retainers, went and came with all the insdient 
 efracas which attaches to their profession. The neigh of 
 horses and the ba5dng of hounds were heard; for my lord, in 
 iliis occupation of inspecting and surveying the manor and 
 idemesne, was of course provided with the meaus of following 
 his pleasure in the chase or park, said to have been the earliest 
 that was inclosed in England, and which was well stocked 
 with deer that had long roamed there unmolested. Several 
 of the inhabitants of the village, in anxious hope of a favora- 
 ble result from this unwonted visit, loitered about the court- 
 yard, and awaited the great man's coming forth. Their at- 
 tention was excited by the hasty arrival of Yarney, and a 
 murmur ran amongst them, " The earl's master of the 
 
KEmLWuRTH. 85 
 
 horse! " while they hurried to bespeak favor by hastily un- 
 bonneting and proffering to hold the bridle and stirrup of the 
 favored retainer and his attendant. 
 
 " Stand somewhat aloof, my masters! " said Vamey 
 haughtily, " and let the domestics do their office." 
 
 The mortified citizens and peasants fell back at the signal; 
 while Lamboume, who had his eye upon his superior's deport- 
 ment, repelled the services of those who offered to assist him 
 with yet more discourtesy — " Stand back, Jack peasant, with 
 a murrain to you, and let these knave footmen do their duty!" 
 
 While they gave their nags to the attendants of the house- 
 hold, and walked into the mansion with an air of superiority 
 which long practice and consciousness of birth rendered 
 natural to Varney, and which Lamboume endeavored to imi- 
 tate as well as he could, the poor inhabitants of Woodstock 
 whispered to each other " Well-a-day — God save us from all 
 such misproud princoxes! An the master be like the men, 
 why, the fiend may take all, and yet have no more than his 
 due." 
 
 " Silence, good neighbors! " said the bailiff, " keep tongue 
 betwixt teeth; we shall know more by and by. But never will 
 a lord come to Woodstock so welcome as bluff old King 
 Harry! He would horsewhip a fellow one day with his own 
 royal hand, and then fling him an handful of silver groats, 
 with his own broad face on them, to 'noint the sore withal." 
 
 " Aye, rest be with him! " echoed the auditors; " it will be 
 long ere this Lady Elizabeth horsewhip any of us." 
 
 " There is no saying," answered the bailiff. " Meanwhile, 
 patience, good neighbors, and let us comfort ourselves by' 
 thinking that we deserve such notice at her Grace's hands." 
 
 Meanwhile, Varney, closely followed by his new dependent, 
 made his way to the hall, where men of more note and con- 
 sequence than those left in the courtyard awaited the appear- 
 ance of the earl, who as yet kept his chamber. All paid 
 court to Vamey, with more or less deference, as suited theii 
 own rank, or the urgency of the business which brought them 
 to his lord's levee. To the general question of, "When comes 
 my lord forth, Master Varney? " he gave brief answers, as, 
 " See you not my boots? I am but just returned from Ox- = 
 ford, and know nothing of it," and the like, until the same 
 query was put in a higher tone by a personage of more im- 
 portance. " I will inquire of the chamberlain, Sir Thomas 
 Copely," was the reply. The chamberlain, distinguished by' 
 his Sliver key, answerecj, that the earl only awaited Master 
 
8« WA VEBLET NO VELS. 
 
 Varneys return to come down, but that he would first speak 
 with him in his private chamber. Vamey, therefore, bowed 
 to the company, and took leave, to enter his lord's apartment. 
 
 There was a murmur of expectation which lasted a few 
 minutes, and was at length hushed by the opening of the 
 folding-doors at the upper end of the apartment, through 
 which the earl made his entrance, marshaled by his chamber- 
 lain and the steward of his family, and followed by Eichard 
 Varney. In his noble mien and princely features men read 
 nothing of that insolence which was practiced by his depend- 
 ents. His courtesies were, indeed, measured by the rank of 
 those to whom they were addressed, but even the meanest 
 person present had a share of his gracious notice. The in- 
 quiries which he made respecting the condition of the manor, 
 of the Queen's rights there, and of the advantages and disad- 
 vantages which might attend her occasional residence at the 
 royal seat of Woodstock, seemed to show that he had most 
 earnestly investigated the matter of the petition of the in- 
 habitants, and with a desire to forward the interest of the 
 place. 
 
 "Now the Lord love his noble countenance," said the 
 bailiff, who had thrust himself into the presence-chamber; 
 " he looks somewhat pale. I warrant him he hath spent the 
 whole night in perusing our memorial. Master Toughyam, 
 who took six months to draw it up, said it would take a week 
 to imderstand it; and see if the earl hath not knocked the 
 marrow out of it in twenty-four hours! " 
 
 The earl then acquainted them that he should move their 
 sovereign to honor Woodstock occasionally with her residence 
 during her royal progresses, that the town and its vicinity 
 might derive from her countenance and favor the same ad- 
 vantages as from those of her predecessors. Meanwhile, he 
 rejoiced to be the expounder of her gracious pleasure, in 
 assuring them that, for the increase of trade and encourage- 
 ment of the worthy burgesses of Woodstock, her Majesty 
 was minded to erect the town into a staple for wool. 
 
 This joyful intelligence was received with the acclamations 
 not only of the better sort who were admitted to the audi- 
 ence-chamber, but of the commons who awaited without. 
 
 The freedom of the corporation was presented to the earl 
 upon knee by the magistrates of the place, together with a 
 purse of gold pieces, which the earl handed to Vam-ey, who, 
 on his part, gave a share to Lamboume, as the most acceptable 
 earnest of his new service. 
 
RENILWORTB. 87 
 
 The earl and Ms retinue took horse soon after to return to 
 court, accompanied by the shouts of the inhabitants of Wood- 
 stock, who made the old oaks ring with re-echoing, " Long 
 live Queen Elizabeth and the noble Earl of Leicester! " The 
 urbanity and courtesy of the earl even threw a gleam of popu- 
 larity over his attendants, as their haughty deportment had 
 formerly obscured that of their master; and men shouted, 
 " Long life to the earl and to his gallant followers! " as Var- 
 ney and Lambourne, each in his rank, rode proudly through 
 the streets of Woodstock. 
 
CHAPTEK VIII. 
 
 Host. I will hear you, Master Fenton ; 
 And I will, at least, keep your counsel. 
 
 —Merry Wives of Windsor. 
 
 It becomes necessary to return to the detail of those cir- 
 cumstances which accompanied, and indeed occasioned, the 
 sudden disappearance of Tressilian from the sign of the Black 
 Bear at Cumnor. It will be recollected that this gentleman, 
 after his rencounter with Varney, had returned to Giles Gos- 
 ling's caravansary, where he shut himself up in his own cham- 
 ber, demanded pen, ink, and paper, and announced his pur- 
 pose to remain private for the day. In the evening he 
 appeared again in the public room, where Michael Lam- 
 bourne, who had been on the watch for him, agreeably to his 
 engagement to Varney, endeavored to renew his acquaintance 
 with him, and hoped he retained no unfriendly recollection 
 of the part he had taken in the morning scuffle. 
 
 But Tressilian repelled his advances firmly, though with 
 civility. " Master Lamboume," he said, " I trust I have 
 recompensed to your pleasure the time you have wasted on 
 me. tinder the show of wild bluntness which you exhibit, I 
 know you have sense enough to understand me when I say 
 frankly, that the object of our temporary acquaintance hav- 
 ing been accomplished, we must be strangers to each other in 
 future." 
 
 " Voto ! " said Lamboume, twirling his whiskers with one 
 hand, and grasping the hilt of his weapon with the other; " if 
 I thought that this usage was meant to insult me " 
 
 "You would bear it with discretion, doubtless," inter- 
 rupted Tressilian, " as you must do at any rate. You know 
 too well the distance that is betwixt us to require me to ex- 
 plain myself farther. Good evening." 
 
 So sa}dng, he turned his back upon his former companion, 
 and entered into discourse with the landlord. Michael Lam- 
 boume felt strongly disposed to bully; but his wrath died 
 away in a few incoherent oaths and ejaculations, and he sank 
 unresistingly under the ascendency which superior spirits 
 possess over persons of his habits and description. He re- 
 X»ained moody and silent in a corner of the apartment, paying 
 
 86 
 
 I 
 
EENILWORTH, 89 
 
 the most marked attention to every motion of his late com- 
 panion, against whom he began now to nourish a quarrel on 
 his own account, which he trusted to avenge by the execu- 
 tion of his new master Varney's directions. The hour of 
 supper arrived, and was followed by that of repose, when 
 Tressilian, like others, retired to his sleeping-apartment. 
 
 He had not been in bed long, when the train of sad reveries, 
 which supplied the place of rest in his disturbed mind, was 
 suddenly interrupted by the jar of a door on its hinges, and a 
 light was seen to glimmer in the apartment. Tressilian, who 
 was as brave as steel, sprang from his bed at this alarm, and 
 had laid hand upon his sword, when he was prevented from 
 drawing it by a voice which said, " Be not too rash with your 
 rapier, Master Tressilian. It is I, your host, Giles Gosling.'' 
 
 At the same time, unshrouding the dark lantern, which had 
 hitherto only emitted an indistinct glimmer, the goodly 
 aspect and figure of the landlord of the Black Bear was 
 visibly presented to his astonished guest. 
 
 " What mummery is this, mine host? " said Tressilian. 
 " Have you supped as jollily as last night, and so mistaken 
 your chamber? or is midnight a time for masquerading it in 
 your guest's lodging?" 
 
 " Master Tressiliaj\" replied mine host, " I know my place 
 and my time as well as e'er a merry landlord in England. 
 But here has been my hang-dog kinsman watching you as 
 close as ever cat watched a mouse; and here have you, on the 
 other hand, quarreled and fought, either with him or with 
 some other person, and I fear that danger will come of it." 
 
 " Go to, thou art but a fool, man," said Tressilian; " thy 
 kinsman is beneath my resentment; and, besides, why shouldst 
 thou think I had quarreled with anyone whomsoever? " 
 
 " Oh, sir! " replied the innkeeper, " there w^as a red spot on 
 thy very cheek-bone, which boded of a late brawl, as sure as 
 the conjunction of Mars and Saturn threatens misfortune; 
 and when you returned, the buckles of your girdle were 
 brought forward, and your step was quick and hasty, and all 
 things showed your hand and your hilt had been lately ac- 
 quainted." 
 
 " Well, good mine host, if I have been obliged to draw my 
 sword," said Tressilian, "why should such a circumstance 
 fetch thee out of thy warm bed at this time of night? Thou 
 seest the mischief is all over." 
 
 "Under favor, that is what I doubt. Anthony Foster is a 
 dangerous man, defended by strong court patronage, which 
 
w> Wa VisHLisr 2^0 VMS. 
 
 hath borne him out in matters of very deep concernment. 
 And then my kinsman — why, I have told you what he is; and 
 if these two old cronies have made up their old acquaintance, 
 I would not, my worshipful guest, that it should be at thy 
 cost. I promise you, Mike Lamboume has been making very 
 particulai* inquiries at my hostler, when and which way you 
 ride. Now, I would have you think, whether you may not 
 have done or said something for which you may be waylaid 
 and taken at disadvantage." 
 
 " Thou art an honest man, mine host," said Tressilian, 
 after a moment's consideration, " and I will deal frankly with 
 thee. If these men's malice is directed against me — as I deny 
 not but it may — ^it is because they are the agents of a more 
 powerful villain than themselves." 
 
 " You mean Master Eichard Vamey, do you not? " said the 
 landlord; " he was at Cumnor Place yesterday, and came not 
 thither so private but what he was espied by one who told 
 me." 
 
 '^ I mean the same, mine host." 
 
 " Then, for God's sake, worshipful Master Tressilian," said 
 honest Gosling, " look well to yourself. This Vamey is the 
 protector and patron of Anthony Foster, who holds under 
 tiim, and by his favor, some lease of yonder mansion and the 
 park. Vamey got a large grant of the lands of the abbacy of 
 Abingdon, and Cumnor Place amongst others, from his mas- 
 ter, the Earl of Leicester. Men say he can do everything 
 with him, though I hold the earl too good a nobleman to em- 
 ploy him as some men talk of. And then the earl can do 
 anything — that is, anything right or fitting — with the Queen, 
 God bless her! so you see what an enemy you have made to 
 yourself." 
 
 " Well, it is done, and I cannot help it," answered Tres- 
 silian. 
 
 " Uds precious, but it must be helped in some manner," 
 said the host. "Richard Varney — why, what between his 
 influence with my lord, and his pretending to so many old 
 and vexatious claims in right of the abbot here, men fear 
 almost to mention his name, much more to set themselves 
 against his practices. You may judge by our discourses the 
 last night. Men said their pleasure of Tony Foster, but not 
 a word of Richard Vamey, though all men judge him to be at 
 the bottom of yonder mystery about the pretty wench. But 
 perhaps you know more of that matter than I do, for women, 
 though they wear not swords, are occasion for many a blade's 
 
KENILWORTH, 91 
 
 exchanging a sheath of neat's leather for one of flesh and 
 blood/' 
 
 "I do indeed know more of that poor unfortunate lady 
 than thou dost, my friendly host; and so bankrupt am I, at 
 this moment, of friends and advice, that I will willingly make 
 a counselor of thee, and tell thee the whole history, the rather 
 that I have a favor to ask when my tale is ended." 
 
 " Good Master Tressilian," said the landlord, " I am but a 
 poor innkeeper, little able to adjust or counsel such a guest as 
 yourself. But as sure as I have risen decently above the 
 world by giving good measure and reasonable charges, I am 
 an honest man; and as such, if I may not be able to assist 
 you, I am, at least, not capable to abuse your confidence. 
 Say away, therefore, as confidently as if you spoke to your 
 father; and thus far at least be certain, that my curiosity, for 
 I will not deny that which belongs to my calling, is joined to 
 a reasonable degree of discretion.'' 
 
 " I doubt it not, mine host," answered Tressilian; and while 
 his auditor remained in anxious expectation, he meditated for 
 an instant how he should commence his narrative. " My 
 tale," he at length said, " to be quite intelligible, must begin 
 at some distance back. You have heard of the battle of 
 Stoke, my good host, and perhaps of old Sir Roger Robsart, 
 who, in that battle, valiantly took part with Henry VII., the 
 Queen's grandfather, and routed the Earl of Lincoln, Lord 
 Geraldin and his wild Irish, and the Flemings whom the 
 Duchess of Burgundy had sent over, in the quarrel of Lam- 
 bert Simnel?" 
 
 " I remember both one and the other," said Giles Gosling, 
 " it is sung of a dozen times a week on my ale-bench below. 
 Sir Roger Robsart of Devon — Oh, aye, 'tis him of whom min- 
 Btrels sing to this hour: 
 
 He was the flower of Stoke's red field 
 When Martin Swart on ground lay slain; 
 
 In raging rout he never reel'd, 
 But like a rock did firm remain. 
 
 Aye, and then there was Martin Swart I have heard my 
 grandfather talk of, and of the jolly Almains whom he com- 
 manded, with their slashed doublets and quaint hose, all 
 frounced with ribbons above the nether-stocks. Here's a 
 song goes of Martin Swart, too, an I had but memory for it: 
 
 Martin Swart and his men, 
 
 Saddle them, saddle them ; 
 Martin Swart and his men, 
 
 Saddle them well." ♦ 
 * See Martin Swart. Notet. 
 
•3 WAVERLEY NOVELS, 
 
 " True, good miiiie host — ^the day was long talked of; but, if 
 you sing so loud, you will awake more listeners than I care 
 to commit my confidence unto." 
 
 "I crave pardon, my worshipful guest," said mine host, 
 "I was oblivious. When an old song comes across us 
 meiry old knights of the spigot, it runs away with our dis- 
 cretion." 
 
 "Well, mine host, my grandfather, like some other Cor- 
 nishmen, kept a warm alSection to the house of York, and 
 espoused the quarrel of this Simnel, assuming the title of Earl 
 of Warwick, as the county afterward, in great numbers, 
 countenanced the cause of Perkin Warbeck, calling himself 
 the Duke of York. My grandsire joined Simners standard, 
 and was taken fighting desperately at Stoke, where most of 
 the leaders of that unhappy army were slain in their hamese. 
 The good knight to whom be rendered himself. Sir Eoger 
 Eobsart, protected him from the immediate vengeance of the 
 king, and dismissed him without ransom. But he was unable 
 to guard him from other penalties of his rashness, being the 
 heavy fines by which he was impoverished, according to 
 Henry's mode of weakening his enemies. The good knight 
 did what he might to mitigate the distresses of my ancestor; 
 and their friendship became so strict that my father was bred 
 up as the sworn brother and intimate of the present Sir Hugh 
 Eobsart, the only son of Sir Eoger, and the heir of his honest, 
 and generous, and hospitable temper, though not equal to him 
 in martial achievements." 
 
 "I have heard of good Sir Hugh Eobsart," interrupted 
 the host, " many a time and oft. His huntsman and sworn 
 servant. Will Badger, hath spoke of him an hundred times in 
 this very house — a jovial knight he is, and hath loved hos- 
 pitality and open housekeeping more than the present 
 fashion, which lays as much gold lace on the seams of a doub- 
 let as would feed a dozen of tall fellows with beef and ale for 
 a twelvemonth, and let them have their evening at the ale- 
 house once a week, to do good to the publican." 
 
 " If you have seen Will Badger, mine host," said Tressilian, 
 " you have heard enough of Sir Hugh Eobsart; and therefore 
 I will but say, that the hospitality you boast of hath proved 
 somewhat detrimental to the estate of his family, which is per- 
 haps of the less consequence, as he has but one daughter to 
 whom to bequeath it. And here begins my share in the tale. 
 Upon my father's death, now several years since, the good Sir 
 Hugh would willingly have made me his constant companion. 
 
KENILWORTE. 93 
 
 There was a time, however, at which I felt the kind knight's 
 excessive love for field-sports detained me from studies by 
 which I might have profited more; but I ceased to regret the 
 leisure which gratitude and hereditary friendsihip compelled 
 me to bestow on these rural avocations. The exquisite 
 beauty of Mistress Amy Robsart, as she grew up from child- 
 hood to woman, could not escape one whom circumstances 
 obliged to be so constantly in her company. I loved her, in 
 short, mine host, and her father saw it." 
 
 " And crossed your true loves, no doubt? " said mine host. 
 " It is the way in all such cases; and I judge it must have been 
 so in your instance, from the heavy sigh you uttered even 
 now." 
 
 " The case was different, mine host. My suit was highly 
 approved by the generous Sir Hugh Robsart; it was his 
 daughter who was cold to my passion." 
 
 " She was the more dangerous enemy of the two," said the 
 innkeeper. " I fear me your suit proved a cold one." 
 
 " She 5rielded me her esteem," said Tressilian, " and seemed 
 not unwilling that I should hope it might ripen into a warmer 
 passion. There was a contract of future marriage executed 
 betwixt us, upon her father's intercession; but, to comply 
 with her anxious request, the execution was deferred for a 
 twelvemonth. During this period, Richard Vamey appeared 
 in the country, and, availing himself of some distent family 
 connection with Sir Hugh Robsart, spent much of his time 
 in his company, until, at length, he almost lived in the 
 family." 
 
 " That could bode no good to the place he honored with his 
 residence," said Gosling. 
 
 " No, by the rood! " replied Tressilian. " Misunderstand-' 
 ing and misery followed his presence, yet so strangely, that I 
 am at this moment at a loss to trace the gradations of their 
 encroachment upon a family which had, till then, been so 
 happy. For a time Amy Robsart received the attentions of 
 this man Yarney with the indifference attached to common 
 courtesies; then followed a period in which she seemed to re- 
 gard him with dislike, and even with disgust; and then an ex- 
 traordinary species of connection appeared to grow up betwixt 
 them. Vamey dropped those airs of pretension and gal- 
 lantry which had marked his former approaches; and. Amy, 
 on the other hand, seemed to renounce the ill-disguised dis- 
 gust with which she had regarded them. They seemed to 
 nave more of privacy and confidence together than I fully 
 
d4 WA VERLiST NO VEL8. 
 
 liked; and I suspected that they met in private, where there 
 was less restraint than in our presence. Many circum- 
 stances, which I noticed but Little at the time — for I deemed 
 her heart as open as her angelic countenance — have since 
 arisen on my memory, to convince me of their private under- 
 standing. But I need not detail them — the fact speaks for 
 itself. She vanished from her father's house — Vamey dis- 
 appeared at the same time; and this very day I have seen her 
 in the character of his paramour, living in the house of his 
 sordid dependent Foster, and visited by him, muffled, and by 
 a secret entrance." 
 
 " And this, then, is the cause of your quarrel? Methinks, 
 you should have been sure that the fair lady either desired or 
 deserved your interference." 
 
 " Mine host," answered Tressilian, " my father, such I 
 must ever consider Sir Hugh Kobsart, sits at home struggling 
 with his grief, or, if so far recovered, vainly attempting to 
 drown, in the practice of his field-sports, the recollection 
 that he had once a daughter — a recollection which ever and 
 anon breaks from him under circumstances the most pathetic. 
 I could not brook the idea that he should live in misery and 
 Amy in guilt; and I endeavored to seek her out, with the 
 hope of inducing her to return to her family. I have found 
 her, and when I have either succeeded in my attempt or have 
 found it altogether unavailing, it is my purpose to embark 
 for the Virginia voyage." 
 
 " Be not so rash, good sir," replied Giles Gosling; " and cast 
 not yourself away because a woman — to be brief — is a womaQ, 
 and changes her lovers like her suit of ribbons, with no bet- 
 ter reason than mere fantasy. And ere we probe this matter 
 * further, let me ask you what circumstances of suspicion 
 directed you so truly to this lad/s residence, or rather to her 
 place of concealment? " 
 
 " The last is the better chosen word, mine host," answered 
 Tressilian; " and touching your question, the knowledge that 
 Vamey held large grants of the demesnes formerly belonging 
 to the monks of Abingdon directed me to this neighborhood; 
 and your nephew's visit to his old comrade Foster gave me the 
 means of conviction on the subject." 
 
 " And what is now your purpose, worthy siir? — excuse my 
 freedom in asking the question so broadly." 
 
 " I purpose, mine host," said Tressilian, " to renew my 
 visit to the place of her residence to-morrow, and to seek a 
 more detailed communication with her than I have had to- 
 
KENILWORTB. W 
 
 day. She must indeed be widely changed from what she 
 once was if my words make no impression upon her." 
 
 " Under your favor, Master Tressilian," said the landlord, 
 " you can follow no such course. The lady, if I understand 
 you, has already rejected your interference in the matter." 
 
 " It is but too true," said Tressilian; " I cannot deny it." 
 
 " Then, marry, by what right or interest do you propose a 
 compulsory interference with her inclination, disgraceful as 
 it may be to herself and to her parents? Unless my judg- 
 ment gulls me, those under whose protection she has tliown 
 herself would have small hesitation to reject your interfer- 
 ence, even if it were that of a father or brother; but as a dis- 
 carded lover you expose yourself to be repelled with the 
 strong hand, as well as with scorn. You can apply to no 
 magistrate for aid or countenance; and you are hunting, 
 therefore, a shadow in water, and will only — excuse my plain- 
 ness — come by ducking and danger in attempting to catch it." 
 
 "I will appeal to the Earl of Leicester," said Tressilian, 
 "against the infamy of his favorite. He courts the severe 
 and strict sect of Puritans. He dare not, for the sake of his 
 own character, refuse my appeal, even although he were desti- 
 tute of the principles of honor and nobleness with which 
 fame invests him. Or I will appeal to the Queen herself." 
 
 " Should Leicester," said the landlord, " be disposed to 
 protect his dependent, a£ indeed he is said to be very confi- 
 dential with Vamey, the appeal to the Queen may bring them 
 both to reason. Her Majesty is strict in such matters, and — 
 if it be not treason to speak it — will rather, it is said, pardon 
 a dozen courtiers for falling in love with herself than one for 
 giving preference to another woman. Corragio then, my 
 brave guest! for, if thou layest a petition from Sir Hugh at 
 the foot of the throne, bucklered by the story of thine own 
 wrongs, the favorite earl dared as soon leap into the Thames 
 at the fullest and deepest as offer to protect Vamey in a 
 cause of this nature. But to do this with any chance of suc- 
 cess you must go formally to work; and, without sta.3dng here 
 to tilt with the master of horse to a privy-councilor, and ex- 
 pose yourself to the dagger of his cameradoes, you should hie 
 you to Devonshire, get a petition drawn up for Sir Hugh 
 Eobsart, and make as many friends as you can to forward 
 your interest at court." 
 
 " You have spoken well, mine host," said Tressilian, " and 
 I will profit by your advice, and leave you to-morrow early." 
 
 "Nay, leave me to-night, sir, before to-morrow comes," 
 
W WAVEBLET NOVELS. 
 
 said the landlord. "I never prayed for a guest's arrival 
 more eagerly than I do to have you safely gone. My kins- 
 man's destiny is most like to be hanged for something, but I 
 would not that the cause were the murder of an honored 
 guest of mine. ' Better ride safe in the dark/ says the prov- 
 erb, ' than in daylight with a cut-throat at your elbow.' 
 Come, sir, I move you for your own safety. Your horse and 
 all is ready, and here is your score." 
 
 "It is somewhat under a noble," said Tressilian, giving 
 one to the host; "give the balance to pretty Cicely, your 
 daughter, and the servants of the house." 
 
 " They shall taste of your bounty, sir," said Gosling, " and 
 you should taste of my daughter's lips in grateful acknowl- 
 edgment, but at this hour she cannot grace the porch to greet 
 your departure." 
 
 " Do not trust your daughter too far with your guests, my 
 good landlord," said Tressilian. 
 
 " Oh, sir, we will keep measure; but I wonder not that you 
 are jealous of them all. May I crave to know with 
 what aspect the fair lady at the Place yesterday received 
 you?" 
 
 " I own," said Tressilian, " it was angry as well as con- 
 fused, and affords me little hope that she is yet awakened 
 from her unhappy delusion." 
 
 "In that case, sir, I see not why you should play the 
 champion of a wench that will none of you, and incur the 
 resentment of a favorite's favorite, as dangerous a monster as 
 ever a knight adventurer encountered in the old story-books." 
 
 " You do me wrong in the supposition, mine host — gross 
 wrong," said Tressilian; " I do not desire that Amy should 
 ever turn thought upon me more. Let me but see her re- 
 stored to her father, and all I have to do in Europe — perhaps 
 in the world — ^is over and ended." 
 
 " A wiser resolution were to drink a cup of sack, and for- 
 get her," said the landlord. " But five-and-twenty and fifty 
 look on those matters with different eyes, especially when one 
 case of peepers is set in the skull of a young gallant and the 
 other in that of an old publican. I pity you. Master Tres- 
 silian, but I see not how I can aid you in the matter." 
 
 " Only thus far, mine host," replied Tressilian. " Keep a 
 watch on the motions of those at the Place, which thou canst 
 tasily learn without suspicion, as all men's news fly to the ale- 
 bench; and be pleased to communicate the tidings in writing 
 to such person, and to no other, who shall bring you this ring 
 
KENILWOUTH. 91 
 
 9B a special token; look at it — it is of value, and I will freely 
 bestow it on you." 
 
 " Nay, sir," said the landlord, " I desire no recompense; but 
 it seems an unadvised course in me, being in a public line, to 
 connect myself in a matter of this dark and perilous nature. 
 I have no interest in it." 
 
 "You and every father in the land, who would have his 
 daughter released from the snares of shame, and sin, and 
 misery, have an interest deeper than aught concerning earth 
 only could create." 
 
 " Well, sir," said the host, " these are brave words; and I 
 do pity from my soul the frank-hearted old gentleman, who 
 has minished his estate in good housekeeping for the honor 
 of his country, and now has his daughter, who should be the 
 stay of his age, and so forth, whisked up by such a kite as this 
 Vamey. And though your part in the matter is somewhat 
 of the wildest, yet I will e'en be a madcap for company, and 
 help you in your honest attempt to get back the good man's 
 child, so far as being your faithful intelligencer can serve. 
 And as I shall be true to you, I pray you to be trusty to me, 
 and keep my secret; for it were bad for the custom of the 
 Black Bear, should it be said the bear-warder interfered in 
 such matters. Vamey has interest enough with the justices 
 to dismount my noble emblem from the post on which he 
 swings so gallantly, to call in my license, and ruin me from 
 garret to cellar." 
 
 " Do not doubt my secrecy, mine host," siaid Tressilian; " I 
 will retain besides, the deep^ sense of thy service, and of the 
 risk thou dost run; remember the ring is my sure token. 
 And now, farewell; for it was thy wise advice that I should 
 tarry here as short a time as may be." 
 
 " Follow me, then, sir guest," said the landlord, " and tread 
 as gently as if eggs were under your foot in^ad of deal 
 boards. No man must know when or how you departed." 
 
 By the aid of his dark lantern he conducted Tressilian, as 
 soon as he had made himself ready for his journey, through 
 a long intricacy of passages, which opened to an outer court, 
 and from thence to a remote stable, where he had already 
 placed his guest's horse. He then aided him to fasten on the 
 saddle the small portmantle which contained his necessaries, 
 opened a postern door, and with a hearty shake of the hand, 
 and a reiteration of his promise to attend to what went on at 
 Cumnor Place, he dismissed his guest to his solitary journey. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Par in the iane a lonely hut he found, 
 
 No tenant ventured on the unwholesome ground i 
 
 Here smokes his forge, he bares his sinewy arm, 
 
 And early strokes the sounding anvil warm ; 
 
 Around his shop the steely sparkles flew, 
 
 As for the steed he shaped the bending shoe. 
 
 — Gtay's Trivia, 
 
 As it was deemed proper by the traveler himself, as well a^ 
 by Giles Gosling, that Tressilian should avoid being seen in 
 the neighborhood of Cumnor by those whom accident might 
 make early risers, the landlord had given him a route, con- 
 sisting of various byways and lanes, which he was to follow in 
 succession, and which, all the turns and short-cuts duly ob- 
 served, was to conduct him to the public road to Marl- 
 borough. 
 
 But, like counsel of every other kind, this species of direc- 
 tion is much more easily given than followed; and what be- 
 twixt the intricacy of the way, the darkness of the night, 
 Tressilian's ignorance of the country, and the sad and per- 
 plexing thoughts with which he had to contend, his journey 
 proceeded so slowly that morning found him only in the Vale 
 of Whitehorse, memorable for the defeat of the Danes in for- 
 mer days, with his horse deprived of a forefoot shoe' — an 
 accident which threatened to put a stop to his journey by 
 laming the animal. The residence of a smith was his first 
 object of inquiry, in which he received little satisfaction from 
 the dullness or sullenness of one or two peasants, early bound 
 for their labor, who gave brief and indifferent answers to his 
 questions on the subject. Anxious at length that the partner 
 of his journey should suffer as little as possible from the un- 
 fortunate accident, Tressilian dismounted, and led his horse 
 in the direction of a little hamlet, where he hoped either to 
 find or hear tidings of such an artificer as he now wanted. 
 Through a deep and muddy lane, he at length waded on to 
 the place, which proved only an assemblage of five or six 
 miserable huts, about the doors of which one or two persons, 
 whose appearance seemed as rude as that of their dwellings, 
 were beginning the toils of the day. One cottage, however, 
 seemed of rather superior aspect, and the old dame, who was 
 sweeping her threshold, appeared something less rude than 
 
KENILWORTR 9d 
 
 her neighbors. To her Tressilian addressed the oft-repeated 
 question, whether there was a smith in this neighborhood, or 
 any place where he could refresh his horse? The dame 
 looked him in the face with a peculiar expression, as she re- 
 plied, " Smith! aye, truly is there a smith; what wouldst ha' 
 wi' un, mon ? " 
 
 ^To shoe my horse, good dame," answered Tressilian; 
 " you may see that he has thrown a forefoot shoe." 
 
 " Master Holiday! " exclaimed the dame, without returning 
 any direct answer — " Master Herasmus Holiday, come and 
 speak to mon, and please you." 
 
 " ' Favete linguis,' " answered a voice from within; " I can- 
 not now come forth, Gammer Sludge, being in the very 
 sweetest bit of my morning studies." 
 
 " Nay, but, good now. Master Holiday, come ye out, do ye. 
 Here's a mon would to Wayland Smith, and I care not to 
 show him way to devil; his horse hath cast shoe." 
 
 '^ * Quid mihi cum caballo? ' " replied the man of learning 
 from within; " I think there is but one wise man in the hun- 
 dred, and they cannot shoe a horse without him! " 
 
 And forth came the honest pedagogue, for such his dress 
 bespoke him. A long, lean, shambling, stooping figure was 
 surmounted by a head thatched with lank black hair some- 
 what inclining to gray. His features had the cast of habitual 
 authority, which I suppose Dionysius carried with him from 
 the throne to the sehoolmaster's pulpit, and bequeathed as a 
 legacy to all of the same profession. A black buckram cas- 
 sock was gathered at his middle with a belt, at which hung, 
 instead of knife or weapon, a goodly leathern pen-and-ink- 
 case. His ferula was stuck on the other side, like harlequin's 
 wooden sword; and he carried in his hand the tattered vol- 
 ume which he had been busily perusing. 
 
 On seeing a person of Tressilian's appearance, which he was 
 better able to estimate than the country folks had been, the 
 schoolmaster unbonneted, and accosted him with, " Salve, 
 domine. Intelligisne linguam Latinam?" 
 
 Tressilian mustered his learning to reply, " Linguae Latinae 
 hand penitus ignarus, venia tua, do'minie eruditissime, ver- 
 naculam libentius loquor." 
 
 The Latin reply had upon the schoolmaster the effect 
 which the mason's sign is said to produce on the brethren of 
 the trowel. He was at once interested in the learned traveler, 
 listened with gravity to his story of a tired horse and a lost 
 shoe, and then replied with solemnity, "It may appear a 
 
100 WAVEBLET NOVELS. 
 
 simple thing, most worshipful, to reply to you that there 
 dwells, within a hrief mile of these ' tuguria,' the best 
 ^faber ferrarius,' the most accomplished blacksmith, that 
 ever nailed iron upon horse. Now, were I to say so, I war- 
 rant me you would think yourself ' compos voti,' oi, 2A the 
 vulgar have it, a made man." 
 
 " I should at least," said Tressilian, " have a direct answer 
 to a plain question, which seems difficult to be obtained in 
 this country." 
 
 " It is a mere sending of a sinful soul to the evil un," said 
 the old woman, " the sending a living creature to Wayland 
 Smith." 
 
 " Peace, Gammer Sludge! " said the pedagogue; " * pauca 
 verba,^ Gammer Sludge; look to the furmity, Gammer Sludge; 
 *curetur jentaculum,^ Gammer Sludge; this gentleman is 
 none of thy gossips." Then turning to Tressilian, he re- 
 sumed his lofty tone, " And so, most worshipful, you would 
 really think yourself ' f elix bis terque ' should I point out to 
 you the dwelling of this same smith? " 
 
 " Sir," replied Tressilian, " I should in that case have all 
 that I want at present, a horse fit to carry me forward — out 
 of hearing of your learning." The last words he muttered 
 to himself. 
 
 " ' Oh, caeca mens mortalium! ' " said the learned man: 
 "well was it sung by Junius Juvenalis, 'numinibus vota 
 exaudita malignis! ' " 
 
 '^ Learned magisfcer," said Tressilian, "your erudition so 
 greatly exceeds my poor intellectual capacity, that you must 
 excuse my seeking elsewhere for information which I can 
 better understand.'* 
 
 " There again now," replied the pedagogue, " how fondly 
 you fly from him that would instruct you! Truly said Quin- 
 tilian " 
 
 " I pray, sir, let Quintilian be for the present, and answer, 
 in a word and in English, if your learning can condescend so 
 far, whether there is any place here where I can have oppor- 
 tunity to refresh my horse, until I can have him shod? " 
 
 " Thus much courtesy, sir," said the schoolmaster, " I can 
 readily render you, that, although there is in this poor hamlet 
 — ' nostra paupera regna ' — no regular * hospitium,' as my 
 namesake Erasmus calleth it, yet, forasmuch as you are some- 
 what embued, or at least tinged, as it were, with good letters, 
 I will use my interest with the good woman of the house to 
 accommodate you with a platter of furmity — an wholesome 
 
KBNILWORTH, 101 
 
 food for which I have found no Latin phrase — ^your horse 
 shall have a share of the cow-house, with a bottle of sweet 
 hay, in which the good woman Sludge so much abounds that 
 it may be said of her cow, * fcenum habet in cornu '; and if it 
 please you to bestow on me the pleasure of your company, the 
 banquet shall cost you *ne semis&em quidem,' so much is 
 Gammer Sludge bound to me for the pains I have bestowed 
 on the top and bottom of her hopeful heir Dickie, whom I 
 have painfully made to travel through the accidence/' 
 
 " Now God yield ye for it. Master Herasmus," said the good 
 Gammer, " and grant that little Dickie may be the better for 
 his accident! and, for the rest, if the gentleman list to stay, 
 breakfast shall be on the board in the wringing of a dish- 
 clout; and for horse-meat and man's meat, I bear no such 
 base mind as to ask a penny." 
 
 Considering the state of his horse, Tressilian, upon the 
 whole, saw no better course than to accept the invitation thus 
 learnedly made and hospitably confirmed, and take chance 
 that, when the good pedagogue had exhausted every topic of 
 conversation, he might possibly condescend to tell him where 
 he could find the smith they spoke of. He entered the hut 
 accordingly, and sat down with the learned Magister Erasmus 
 Holiday, partook of his furmity, and listened to his learned 
 account of himself for a good half -hour, ere he could get him 
 to talk upon any other topic. The reader will readily excuse 
 our accompanying this man of learning into all the details 
 with which he favored Tressilian, of which the following 
 sketch may suffice. 
 
 He was born at Hogsnorton, where, according to popular 
 Baying, the pigs play upon the organ — a proverb which he 
 interpreted allegorically, as having reference to the herd of 
 Epicurus, of which litter Horace confessed himself a porker. 
 His name of Erasmus he derived partly from his father hav- 
 ing been the son of a renowned washerwoman, who had held 
 that great scholar in clean linen all the while he was at Ox- 
 ford — a task of some difficulty, as he was only possessed of 
 two shirts, " the one," as she expressed herself, " to wash the 
 other." The vestiges of one of these * camicse,' as Master 
 Holiday boasted, were still in his possession, having fortu- 
 nately been detained by his grandmother to cover the balance 
 of her bill. But he thought there was a still higher and over- 
 ruling cause for his having had the name of Erasmus con- 
 ferred on him, namely, the secret presentiment of his 
 mother's mind that, in the babe to be christened, was a hidden 
 
102 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 genius, which should one day lead him to rival the fame of 
 the great scholar of Amsterdam. The schoolmaster's sur- 
 name led him as far into dissertation as his Christian appella- 
 tive. He was inclined to think that he hore the name of 
 Holiday " quasi lucus a non lucendo," because he gave such 
 few holidays to his school. " Hence," said he, " the school- 
 master is termed, classically, ' ludi magister,' because he de- 
 prives boys of their play." And yet, on the other hand, he 
 thought it might bear a very different interpretation, and 
 refer to his own exquisite art in arranging pageants, morris- 
 dances, Mayday festivities, and such-like holiday delights, for 
 which he assured Tressilian he had positively the purest and 
 the most inventive brain in England; insomuch, that his cun- 
 ning in framing such pleasures had made him known to many 
 honorable persons both in country and court, and especially 
 to the noble Earl of Leicester. " And although he may now 
 seem to forget me," he said, " in the multitude of state affairs, 
 yet I am well assured that, had he some pretty pastime to 
 array for entertainment of the Queen's Grace, horse and man 
 would be seeking the humble cottage of Erasmus Holiday. 
 ' Parvo contentus,' in the meanwhile, I hear my pupils parse 
 and construe, worshipful sir, and drive away my time with 
 the aid of the Muses. And I have at all times, when in cor- 
 respondence with foreign scholars, subscribed myself Eras- 
 mus ab Die Fausto, and have enjoyed the distinction due to 
 the learned under that title; witness the erudite Diedrichus 
 Buckerschockius, who dedicated to me, under that title, his 
 treatise on the letter tau. In fine, sir, I have been a happy 
 and distinguished man." 
 
 " Long may it be so, sir! " said the traveler; " but permit 
 me to ask, in your own learned phrase, ^ Quid hoc ad Iphycli 
 boves ' — what has all this to do with the shoeing of my poor 
 nag?" 
 
 " ' Festina lente,' " said the man of learning, " we will pres- 
 ently come- to that point. You must know that, some two or 
 three years past, there came to these parts one who called 
 himself Dr. Doboobie, although it may be he never wrote 
 even ' magister artium,' save in right of his hungry belly. Or 
 it may be that, if he had any degrees, they were of the devil's 
 giving, for he was what the vulgar call a white witch, a cun- 
 ning man, and such-like. Now, good sir, I perceive you are 
 impatient; but if a man tell not his tale his own way, how 
 have you warrant to think that he can tell it in yours? " 
 
 "Well, then, learned sir, take your way," answered Tres- 
 
KENILWORTH. 103 
 
 silian; " anly let us travel at a sharper pace, for my time is 
 somewhat of the shortest." ' 
 
 "Well, sir," resumed Erasmus HoUday, with the most pro- 
 yoking perseverance, "I will not say thk this same Dem^ 
 tnus, for so he wrote himself when in foreign parts, was an 
 
 h^^tTfT'' •"!' ^'-^T " ''' tl^^* he pmfiS'tHe a 
 brother of the mystical order of the Rosy Cross, a disciple of 
 
 ^!^1' ^ '"''^T •=''J"' ^-^"^t ^^'■bim vemaculum,' gib- 
 K;P ^nwTf """"f ' ^^, ""'^'"S the weapon instead of 
 hv thp t;» f^T''^ ^^ palmistry, discovered stolen goods 
 
 by the sieve and shears, gathered the right maddow and the 
 male fern seed through use of which men walk invisible, pre! 
 tended some advances toward the pana<;ea or universal eUxir 
 and affected to convert good lead into sorry silver " ' 
 
 In other words," said Tressilian, "he was a quacksalver 
 and common cheat; but what has all this to do with my n^ 
 and the shoe which he has lost? " ^ 
 
 r,t'\J3 ^°"'' '^ofhipfil patience," replied the diffusive maa 
 tL^^^^\'y°^^'f'^\^^Aer^t^rA that presently; 'patientia' 
 
 A»vnoT' ^\^f^f}^'^reTum diuma perpessio.' This same 
 told vnn"l °''°?^''' '^**^ ^/"^""^S with the country, as I W 
 nriir,^;. ff/V'^""'/*^' ''""^^ magnates,' among the 
 pnme men of the land, and there is likelihood he might have 
 foHl " erft^^Ue>rs, had not, according to vulgi^fem^ 
 
 ^^^ n.lr ■ ''T'^ ^^ "^h* """^ '^"'^ °ig»it' and flown 
 ^ with Demetnus who was never seen or heard of afterward. 
 
 ThZ D/nTt*^ 7'^""'^'' *h^ ^-^ marrow, of my iSe 
 Bkve??. t^r ?' ^^ a servant, a poor snake, whom he em- 
 ployed m tnmmmg his furnace, regulating it by just meas- 
 
 na i™r?°r^'"/ ^'\^':^§'' t'-acing his circles, cijoling Ms 
 patients, et sic de ceteris.' Well, right worshipful the doc- 
 tor being removed thus strangely, 'ani in a way^Xch^ruck 
 Slf ^^ tr™*7 ^th terror, this poor zany thinks to him- 
 self, m the words of Maro, ' Uno avulso, non deficit alter'- 
 m^'teX^hl'' tradesman's apprentice set himself up in his 
 
 ^a^fhit^w T ^/ '' ^^' ''' h^* ^^^"-^ frooi business, 
 fL.+ / Wayland assume the dangerous trade of his de- 
 funct master. But although, most woi^hipful sir, the world 
 irwhr"' *^'^'^'° ^^ *^« pretensions of such unworthy 
 
 though usurping the style and skill of doctors of medicine 
 yet the pretensions of this poor zany, this Wayland, w^e ^' 
 
1 04 WA VERLBT NO VEL8. 
 
 gross to pass on them, nor was there a mere rustic, a villager, 
 who was not ready to accost him in the sense of Persius, 
 though in their own rugged words: 
 
 Diluis helleborum, certo compescere puncto 
 Nescius examen ? vetat hoc natura medendi ; 
 
 which I have thus rendered in a poor paraphrase of mine own: 
 
 Wilt thou mix hellebore, who doth not know 
 How many grains should to the mixture go ? 
 The art of medicine this forbids, I trow. 
 
 Moreover, the evil reputation of the master, and his strange 
 and doubtful end, or at least sudden disappearance, prevented 
 any, excepting the most desperate of men, to seek any advice 
 or opinion from the servant; wherefore, the poor vermin was 
 likely at first to swarf for very hunger. But the devil that 
 serves him, since the death of Demetrius or Doboobie, put 
 him on a fresh device. This knave, whether from the inspi- 
 ration of the devil or from early education^ shoes horses bet- 
 ter than e'er a man betwixt us and Iceland; and so he gives up 
 his practice on the bipeds, the two-legged and unfledged 
 species called mankind, and betakes him entirely to ahoing 
 of horses.' 
 
 "Indeed! and where does he lodge all this time?'' said 
 Tressilian. "And does he shoe horses well? Show me his 
 dwelling presently." 
 
 The interruption pleased not the magister, who exclaimed, 
 " ' Oh, caeca mens mortalium! ' though, by the way, I used 
 that quotation before. But I would the classics could afford 
 me any sentiment of power to stop those who are so willing 
 to rush upon their own destruction. Hear but, I pray you, 
 the conditions of this man," siaid he, in continuation, " ere 
 you ai*e so willing to place yourself, within his danger " 
 
 "A' takes no money for a's work," said the dame, who 
 stood by. enraptured as it were with the fine words and 
 learned apothegms which glided so fluently from her 
 erudite inmate. Master Holiday. But this interruption 
 pleased not the magister more than that of the traveler. 
 
 " Peace," said he, " Gammer Sludge; know your place, if it 
 be your will. ^ Sufflamina,' Gammer Sludge, and allow me to 
 expound this matter to our worshipful guest. Sir," said he, 
 again addressing Tressilian, " this old woman speaks true, 
 though in her own rude style, for certainly this 'faber fer- 
 rarius,' or blacksmith, takes money of no one." 
 
 " And that is a sure sign he deals with Satan," said Dame 
 
KENILWORTH. 105 
 
 Sludge; " since no good Christian would ever refuse the wages 
 of his labor." 
 
 " The old woman hath touched it again," said the peda- 
 gogue; " * rem acu tetigit ' — she hath pricked it with her 
 needle's point. This Wayland takes no money indeed, nor 
 doth he show himself to anyone." 
 
 " And can this madman, for such I hold him," said the 
 traveler, " know aught like good skill of his trade? " 
 
 " Oh, sir, in that let us give the devil his due. Mulciber 
 himself, with all his Cyclops, could hardly amend him. But 
 assuredly there is little wisdom in taking counsel or receiving 
 aid from one who is but too plainly in league with the author 
 of evil." 
 
 " I must take my chance of that, good Master Holiday," 
 said Tressilian, rising; " and as my horse must now have 
 eaten his provender, I must needs thank you for your good 
 cheer, and pray you to show me this man's residence, that I 
 may have the means of proceeding on my journey." 
 
 "Aye — aye, do ye show him. Master Herasmus," said the 
 old dame, who was, perhaps, desirous to get her house freed of 
 her guest; " a' must needs go when the devil drives." 
 
 " ^ Do manus,' " said the magister — " I submit, taking the 
 world to witness that I have possessed this honorable gentle- 
 man with the full injustice which he has done, and shall do, 
 to his own soul if he becomes thus a trinketer with Satan. 
 Neither will I go forth with our guest myself, but rather send 
 my pupil. ' Eicarde! adsis, nebulo.' " 
 
 " Under your favor, not so," answered the old woman; 
 " you may peril your own soul, if you list, but my son shall 
 budge on no such errand; and I wonder at you. Dominie 
 Doctor, to propose such a piece of service for little Dickie." 
 
 " Nay, my good Gammer Sludge," answered the preceptor, 
 " Eicardus shall go but to the top of the hill, and indicate 
 with his digit to the stranger the dwelling of Wayland Smith. 
 Believe not that any evil can come to him, he having read 
 this morning, fasting, a chapter of the Septuagint, and, more- 
 over, having had his lesson in the Greek Testament." 
 
 '* Aye," said his mother, " and I have sewn a sprig of 
 witch's elm in the neck of un's doublet, ever since that foul 
 thief has begun his practices on man and beast in these parts." 
 
 " And as he goes oft, as I hugely suspect, toward this con- 
 jurer for his own pastime he may for once go thither or near 
 him to pleasure us, and to assist this stranger. ^ Ergo heus, 
 Eicarde! adsis, quseso, mi didascule.' " 
 
106 WA YERLET NO YEL8. 
 
 The pupil, thus affectionately invoked, at length came 
 stumbling into the room — a queer, shambling, ill-made 
 urchin, who, by his stunted growth, seemed about twelve or 
 thirteen years old, though he was probably, in reality, a yeax 
 or two older, with a carroty pate in huge disorder, a freckled, 
 sunburnt visage, with a snub nose, a long chin, and two peery 
 gray eyes, which had a droll obliquity of vision, approaching 
 to a squint, though perhaps not a decided one. It was imposr- 
 sible to look at the little man without some disposition to 
 laugh, especially when Gammer Sludge, seizing upon and kiss- 
 ing him, in spite of his struggling and kicking in reply to her 
 caresses, termed him her own precious pearl of beauty. 
 
 " * Eicarde,^ " said the preceptor, " you must forthwith, 
 which is * prof ecto,' set forth so far as the top of the hill, and 
 show this man of worship Wayland Smith's workshop." 
 
 "A proper errand of a morning," said the boy, in better 
 language than Tressilian expected; " and who knows but the 
 devil may fly away with me before I come back? " 
 
 " Aye, marry, may un," said Dame Sludge, " and you might 
 have thought twice. Master Dominie, ere you sent my dainty 
 darling on arrow such errand. It is not for such doings I 
 feed your belly and clothe your back, I warrant you! " 
 
 "Pshaw! 'nugge,' good Gammer Sludge," answered the 
 preceptor; " I ensure you that Satan, if there be Satan in the 
 case, shall not touch a thread of his garment; for Dickie can 
 say his pater with the best, and may defy the foul fiend — 
 ' Eumenides, Stygiumque nefas.' " 
 
 "Aye, and I, as I said before, have sewed a sprig of the 
 mountain-ash into his collar," said the good woman, " which 
 will avail more than your clerkship, I wus; but for all that, it 
 is ill to seek the devil or his mates either." 
 
 " My good boy," said Tressilian, who saw, from a grotesque 
 sneer on Dickie's face, that he was more likely to act upon his 
 own bottom than by the instruction of his elders, " I will give 
 thee a silver groat, my pretty fellow, if you will but guide me 
 to this man's forge.' 
 
 The boy gave him a knowing side-look, which seemed to 
 promise acquiescence, while at the same time he exclaimed, "I 
 be your guide to Wayland Smith's! Why, man, did I not say 
 that the devil might fly off with me, just as the kite there 
 [looking to the window] is flying off with one of grandame's 
 chicks?" 
 
 "The kite! — the kite!" exclaimed the old woman in re- 
 turn, and forgetting all other matters in her alarm, hastened 
 
KBNILWOBTH, 107 
 
 to the rescue of her chicken as fast as her old legs could carry 
 her. 
 
 " Now for it," said the urchin to Tressilian; " snatch your 
 beaver, get out your horse, and have at the silver groat you 
 spoke of." 
 
 " Nay, but tarry — tarry," said the preceptor, " ' Sufflamina, 
 Ricarde! ' " 
 
 " Tarry yourself," said Dickie, " and think what answer 
 you are to make to granny for sending me post to the devil." 
 
 The teacher, aware of the responsibility he was incurring, 
 bustled up in great haste to lay hold of the urchin, and to 
 prevent his departure; but Dickie slipped through his fingers, 
 bolted from the cottage, and sped him to the top of a neigh- 
 boring rising-ground; while the preceptor, despairing, by 
 well-taught experience, of recovering his pupil by speed of 
 foot, had recourse to the most honeyed epithets the Latin vo- 
 cabulary affords to persuade his return. But to " mi anime, 
 corculum meum," and all such classical endearments, the 
 truant turned a deaf ear, and kept frisking on the top of the 
 rising-ground like a goblin by moonlight, making signs to his 
 new acquaintance, Tressilian, to follow him. 
 
 The traveler lost no time in getting out his horse, and 
 departing to join his elvish guide, after half-forcing on the 
 poor deserted teacher a recompense for the entertainment he 
 had received, which partly allayed the terror he had for fac- 
 ing the return of the old lady of the mansion. Apparently 
 this took place soon afterward; for ere Tressilian and his 
 guide had proceeded far on their journey they heard the 
 screams of a cracked female voice, intermingled with the clas- 
 sical objurgations of Master Erasmus Holiday. But Dickie 
 Sludge, equally deaf to the voice of maternal tenderness and 
 of magisterial authority, skipped on unconsciously before 
 Tressilian, only observing that, " If they cried themselves 
 hoarse, they might go lick the honey-pot, for he had eaten 
 up all the honey-co-mb himself on yesterday even/' 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 There entering in, they found the goodman selfe 
 
 Full busylie unto his work ybent, 
 
 Who was to weet a wretched wearish elf, 
 
 With hollow eyes and rawbone cheeks forspent, 
 
 Aa if he had been long in prison pent. 
 
 — The Faery Queen. 
 
 ''Are we far from the dwelling of this smith, my pretty 
 lad?'' said Tressilian to his young guide. 
 
 " How is it you call me ? " said the boy, looking askew at 
 him with his sharp gray eyes. 
 
 " I call you my pretty lad — is there any offense in that, my 
 boy?'' 
 
 " No, but were you with my grandame and Dominie Holi- 
 day, you might sing chorus to the old song of 
 
 We three 
 Tom-fools be." 
 
 " And why so, my little man ? " said Tressilian. 
 
 " Because," answered the ugly urchin, " you are the only 
 three ever called me pretty lad. Now my grandame does it 
 because she is parcel blind by age, and whole blind by kin- 
 dred; and my master, the poor dominie, does it to curry favor, 
 and have the fullest platter of furmity, and the warmest seat 
 by the fire. But what you call me pretty lad for, you know 
 best yourself." 
 
 " Thou art a sharp wag at least, if not a pretty one. But 
 what do thy playfellows call thee? " 
 
 " Hobgoblin," answered the boy, readily; " but for all that 
 I would rather have my own ugly viznomy than any of their 
 jolterheads, that have no more brains in them than a brick- 
 bat." 
 
 " Then you fear not this smith, whom you are going to 
 Bee?" 
 
 " Me fear him! " answered the boy; " if he were the devil 
 folk think him, I would not fear him; but though there is 
 something queer about him, he's no more a devil than you 
 are, and that's what I would not tell to everyone." 
 
 '' And why do you tell it to me, then, my boy? " said Tres- 
 ^lian. 
 
 " Because you are another-guees gentleman than those we 
 
KENILWORTH. 109 
 
 see here every day/' replied Dickie; "and though I am as 
 ugly as sin, I would not have you think me an ass, especially 
 as I may have a boon to ask of you one day." 
 
 " And what is that, my lad, whom I must not call pretty? " 
 replied Tressilian. 
 
 " Oh, if I were to ask it just now,'' said the boy, " you 
 would deny it me; but I will wait till we meet at court." 
 
 " At court, Richard! are you bound for court? " said Tree- 
 silian. 
 
 " Aye — aye, that's just like the rest of them," replied the 
 boy; " I warrant me you think, what should such an ill- 
 favored, scrambling urchin do at court? But let Richard 
 Sludge alone; I have not been cock of the roost here for noth- 
 ing. I will make sharp wit mend foul feature." 
 
 " But what will your grandame say, and your tutor. Dom- 
 inie Holiday? " 
 
 " E'en what they like," replied Dickie; " the one has her 
 chickens to reckon, and the other has his boys to whip. I 
 would have given them the candle to hold long since, and 
 shown this trumpery hamlet a fair pair of heels, but that dom- 
 inie promises I should go with him to bear share in the next 
 pageant he is to set forth, and they say there are to be great 
 revels shortly." 
 
 *' And whereabout are they to be held, my little friend? " 
 said Tressilian. 
 
 " Oh, at some castle far in the north," answered his guide 
 — " a world's breadth from Berkshire. But our old dominie 
 holds that they cannot go forward without him; and it may 
 be he is right, for he has put in order many a fair pageant. 
 He is not haJf the fool you would take him for, when he gets 
 to work he understands; and so he can spout verses like a 
 play-actor, when, God wot, if you set him to steal a goose's 
 t%g, he would be drubbed by the gander." 
 
 " And you are to play a part in his next show? " said Tres- 
 silian, somewhat interested by the boy's boldness of conversa- 
 tion and shrewd estimate of character. 
 
 "In faith," said Richard Sludge, in answer, "he hath so 
 promised me; and if he break his word it will be the worse 
 for him; for let me take the bit between my teeth, and turn 
 my head down hill, and I will shake him off with a fall that 
 may harm his bones. And I should not like much to hurt 
 him neither," said he, " for the tiresome old fool has painfully 
 labored to teach me all he could. But enough of that; here 
 are we at Wayland Smith's forge door/' 
 
110 WAVEBLET NOVELS, 
 
 " You jest, my little friend," said Tressilian; '^ here is noth- 
 ing but a bare moor, and that ring of stones, with a great one 
 in the midst, like a Cornish barrow." 
 
 "Aye, and that great fiat stone in the midst, which lies 
 across the top of these uprights," said the boy, " is Wayland 
 Smith's counter, that you must tell down your money 
 upon." 
 
 " What do you mean by such folly? " said the traveler, be- 
 ginning to be angry with the boy, and vexed with himself 
 for having trusted such a hare-brained guide. 
 
 " Why," said Dickie, with a grin, " you must tie your horse 
 to that upright stone that has the ring in't, and then you 
 must whistle three times, and lay me down your silver groat 
 on that other flat stone, walk out of the circle, sit down on 
 the west side of that little thicket of bushes, and take heed 
 you look neither to right nor to left for ten minutes, or so 
 long as you shall hear the hammer clink, and whenever it 
 ceases say your prayers for the space you could tell a hundred, 
 or count over a hundred, which will do as well, and then come 
 into the circle; you will find your money gone and your horse 
 shod." 
 
 " My money gone to a certainty! " said Tressilian; " but as 
 for the rest Hark ye, my lad, I am not your school- 
 master; but if you play off your waggery on me, I will take a 
 part of his task off his hands, and punish you to purpose." 
 
 " Aye, when you can catch me! " said the boy; and pres- 
 ently took to his heels across the heath, with a velocity which 
 baffled every attempt of Tressilian to overtake him, loaded 
 as he was with his heavy boots. Nor was it the least provok- 
 ing part of the urchin's conduct that he did not exert his 
 utmost speed, like one who finds himself in danger or who 
 is frightened, but preserved just such a rate as to encourage 
 Tressilian to continue the chase, and then darted away from 
 him with the swiftness of the wind, when his purser sup- 
 posed he had nearly run him down, doubling at the same 
 time, and winding, so as always to keep near the place from 
 which he started. 
 
 This lasted until Tressilian, from very weariness, stood 
 still, and was about to abandon the pursuit with a hearty 
 curse on the ill-favored urchin who had engaged him in an 
 exercise so ridiculous. But the boy, who had, as formerly, 
 planted himself on the top of a hillock close in front, began 
 to clap his long thin hands, point with his skinny fingers, and 
 twist his wild and ugly features into such an extravagant ex- 
 
E^ENILWORTH. Ill 
 
 pression of laughter and derision, that Tressilian began half 
 to doubt whether he had not in view an actual hobgoblin. 
 
 Provoked extremely, yet at the same time feeling an irre- 
 sistible desire to laugh, so very odd were the boy's grimaces 
 and gesticulations, the Cornishman returned to his horse, and 
 mounted him with the purpose of pursuing Dickie at more 
 advantage. 
 
 The boy no sooner saw him mount his horse than he hal- 
 looed out to him that, rather than he should spoil his white- 
 footed nag, he would come to him, on condition he would 
 keep his fingers to himself. 
 
 " I will make no conditions with thee, thou ugly varlet! " 
 said Tressilian; " I will have thee at my mercy in a moment." 
 
 " Aha, Master Traveler! " said the boy, " there is a marsh 
 hard by would swallow all the horses of the Queen's Guard; 
 I will into it, and see where you will go then. You shall 
 hear the bittern bump and the wild drake quack ere you get 
 hold of me without my consent, I promise you." 
 
 Tressilian looked out, and, from the appearance of the 
 ground behind the hillock, believed it might be as the boy 
 said, and accordingly determined to strike up a peace with 
 so light-footed and ready-witted an enemy. " Come down," 
 he said, " thou mischievous brat! Leave thy mopping and 
 mowing, and come hither; I will do thee no harm, as I am a 
 gentleman." 
 
 The boy answered his invitation with the utmost confi- 
 dence, and danced down from his stance with a galliard sort 
 of step, keeping his eye at the same time fixed on Tressilian's, 
 who, once more dismounted, stood with his horse's bridle in 
 his hand, breathless and half-exhausted with his fruitless 
 exercise, though not one drop of moisture appeared on the 
 freckled forehead of the urchin, which looked like a piece of 
 dry and discolored parchment, drawn tight across the brow of 
 a fleshless skull. 
 
 "And tell me," said Tressilian, "why you use me thus, 
 thou mischievous imp ? or what your meaning is by telling me 
 so absurd a legend as you wished but now to put on me? Or 
 rather show me, in good earnest, this smith's forge, and I 
 will give thee what will buy thee apples through the whole 
 winter." 
 
 " Were you to give me an orchard of apples," said Dickie 
 Sludge, " I can guide thee no better than I have done. Lay 
 down the silver token on the flat stone, whistle three times; 
 then come sit down on the western side of the thicket of 
 
112 WAVEBLET NOVELS. 
 
 gorse. I will sit by you, and give you«free leave to wring my 
 head off, unless you hear the smith at work within two min- 
 utes after we are seated." 
 
 " I may be tempted to take thee at thy word," said Tres- 
 silian, " if you make me do aught half so ridiculous for your 
 own mischievous sport; however, I will prove your spell. 
 Here, then, I tie my horse to this upright stone. I must lay 
 my silver groat here, and whistle three times sayst thou? " 
 
 " Aye, but thou must whistle louder than an unfledged 
 ouzel," said the boy, as Tressilian, having laid down his 
 money, and half-ashamed of the folly he practiced, made a 
 careless whistle. "You must whistle louder than that, for 
 who knows where the smith is that you call for? He may 
 be in the King of France's stables for what I know." 
 
 " Why, you said but now he was no devil," replied Tres- 
 silian. 
 
 " Man or devil," said Dickie, " I see that I must summon 
 him for you; " and therewithal he whistled sharp and shrill, 
 with an acuteness of sound that almost thrilled through Tres- 
 silian's brain. " That is what I call whistling," said he, after 
 he had repeated the signal thrice; " and now to cover — ^to 
 cover, or Whitefoot will not be shod this day." 
 
 Tressilian, musing what the upshot of this mummery was 
 to be, yet satisfied there was to be some serious result, by the 
 confidence with which the boy had put himself in his power, 
 suffered himself to be conducted to that side of the little 
 thicket of gorse and brushwood which was farthest from the 
 circle of stones, and there sat down; and, as it occurred to him 
 that, after all, this might be a trick for stealing his horse, he 
 kept his hand on the boy's collar, determined to make him 
 hostage for its safety. 
 
 "Now, hush and listen," said Dickie, in a low whisper; 
 "you will soon hear the tack of a hammer that was never 
 forged of earthly iron, for the stone it was made of was shot 
 from the moon." And in effect Tressilian did immediately 
 hear the light stroke of a hammer, as when a farrier is at 
 work. The singularity of such a sound, in so very lonely a 
 place, made him involuntarily start; but looking at the boy, 
 and discovering, by the arch, malicious expression of hjs 
 countenance, that the urchin saw and enjoyed his slight 
 tremor, he became convinced that the whole was a concerted 
 stratagem, and determined to know by whom, or for what 
 purpose, the trick was played off. 
 
 Accordingly, he remained perfectly quiet all the time that 
 
KENILWORTH, 118 
 
 the hammer continued to sound, being about the space 
 usually employed in fixing a horse-shoe. But the instant the 
 sound ceased, Tressilian, instead of interposing the space of 
 time which his guide had required, started up with his sword 
 in his hand, ran round the thicket, and confronted a man in 
 a farrier^s leathern apron, but otherwise fantastically attired 
 in a bear-skin dressed with the fur on, and a cap of the same, 
 which almost hid the sooty and begrimed features of the 
 wearer. " Come back — come back! " cried the boy to Tres- 
 silian, " or you will be torn to pieces — no man lives that looks 
 on him." In fact, the invisible smith (now fully visible) 
 heaved up his hammer, and showed symptoms of doing battle. 
 
 But when the boy observed that neither his own entreaties 
 nor the menaces of the farrier appeared to change Tressilian's 
 purpose, but that, on the contrary, he confronted the hammer 
 with his drawn sword, he exclaimed to the smith in turn, 
 "Wayland, touch him not, or you will come by the worst! 
 the gentleman is a true gentleman, and a bold." 
 
 " So thou hast betrayed me. Flibbertigibbet? " said the 
 smith; " it shall be the worse for thee! " 
 
 " Be who thou wilt," said Tressilian, " thou art in no dan- 
 ger from me, so thou tell me the meaning of this practice, and 
 why thou drivest thy trade in this mysterious fashion." 
 
 The smith, however, turning to Tressilian, exclaimed, in a 
 threatening tone, " Who questions the Keeper of the Crystal 
 Castle of Light, the Lord of the Green Lion, the Eider of the 
 Eed Dragon? Hence! avoid thee, ere I summon Talpeck 
 with his fiery lance to quell, crush, and consume! " These 
 words he uttered with violent gesticulation, mouthing and 
 flourishing his hammer. 
 
 " Peace, thou vile cozener, with thy gypsy cant! " replied 
 Tressilian scornfully, " and follow me to the next magistrate, 
 or I will cut thee over the pate." 
 
 " Peace, I pray thee, good Wayland! " said the boy; " credit 
 me. the swas^gering vein will not pass here; you must cut boon 
 whids/' 
 
 " I think, worshipful sir," said the smith, sinking his ham- 
 mer, and assuming a more gentle and submissive tone of 
 voice, " that when so poor a man does his da/s job, he might 
 be permitted to work it out after his own fashion. Your 
 horse is shod and your farrier paid. What need you cumber 
 yourself further than to mount and pursue your journey? " 
 
 "Nay, friend, you are mistaken," replied Tressilian; 
 " every man has a right to take the mask from the face of a 
 
114 WAVSMLET NOVELS. 
 
 cheat and a juggler; and your mode of living raises suspicion 
 that you are both/' 
 
 " If you are so determined, sir," said the smith, " I cannot 
 help myself save by force, which I were unwilling to use to- 
 ward you. Master Tressilian; not that I fear your weapon but 
 because I know you to be a worthy, kind, and well-accom- 
 plished gentleman, who would rather help than harm a poor 
 man that is in a strait/' 
 
 "Well said, Wayland," said the boy, who had anxiously 
 awaited the issue of their conference. " But let us to thy 
 den, man, for it is ill for thy health to stand here talking in 
 the open air/' 
 
 " Thou art right. Hobgoblin," replied the smith; and going 
 to the little thicket of gorse on the side nearest to the circle, 
 and opposite to that at which his customer had so lately 
 couched, he discovered a trap-door curiously covered with 
 bushes, raised it, and, descending into the earth, vanished 
 from their eyes. Notwithstanding Tressilian's curiosity, he 
 had some hesitation at following the fellow into what might 
 be a den of robbers, especially when he heard the smith's 
 voice, issuing from the bowels of the earth, call out, " Fhb- 
 bertigibbet, do you come last, and be sure to fasten the trap! " 
 
 " Have you seen enough of Wayland Smith now? " whis- 
 pered the urchin to Tressilian with an arch sneer, as if mark- 
 ing his companion's uncertainty. 
 
 " Not yet," said Tressilian firmly; and shaking off his mo- 
 mentary irresolution he descended into the narrow staircase 
 to which the entrance led and was followed by Dickie Sludge, 
 who made fast the trap-door behind him, and thus excluded 
 every glimmer of daylight. The descent, however, was only 
 a few steps and led to a level passage of a few yards' length, 
 at the end of which appeared the reflection of a lurid and red 
 light. Arrived at this point, with his drawn sword in his 
 hand, Tressilian found that a turn to the left admitted him 
 and Hobgoblin, who followed closely, into a small square vault 
 containing a smith's forge glowing with charcoal, the vapor of 
 which filled the apartment with an oppressive smell, which 
 would have been altogether suffocating, but that by some con- 
 cealed vent the smithy communicated with the upper air. The 
 light afforded by the red fuel, and by a lamp suspended in an 
 iron chain, served to show that, besides an anvil, bellows, 
 tongs, hammers, a quantity of ready-made horse-shoes, and 
 other articles proper to the profession of a farrier, there were 
 also stoves, alembics, crucibles, retorts, and other instruments 
 
The Farrier's Cavern. 
 
KBNZLWORTH. 11« 
 
 of alchemy. The grotesque figure of the smith, and the ugly 
 but whimsical features of the boy, seen by the gloomy and im- 
 perfect light of the charcoal fire and the dying lamp, ac- 
 corded very well with all this mystical apparatus, and in that 
 age of superstition would have made some impression on the 
 courage of most men. 
 
 But nature had endowed Treseilian with firm nerves, and 
 his education, originally good, had been too seduously im- 
 proved by subsequent study to give way to any imaginary ter- 
 rors; and after giving a glance around him, he again 
 demanded of the artist who he was, and by what accident he 
 came to know and address him by his name. 
 
 " Your worship cannot but remember," said the smith, 
 "that about three years since, upon St. Lucy's Eve, there 
 came a traveling juggler to a certain hall in Devonshire, and 
 exhibited his skill before a worshipful knight and a fair com- 
 pany. I see from your worship's countenance, dark as this 
 place is, that my memory has not done me wrong." 
 
 " Thou hast said enough," said Tressilian, turning away, 
 as wishing to hide from the speaker the painful train of recol- 
 lections which his discourse had unconsciously awakened. 
 
 " The juggler," said the smith, " played his part so bravely 
 that the clowns and clown-like squires in the company held 
 his art to be little less than magical; but there was one maiden 
 of fifteen or thereby, with the fairest face I ever looked upon, 
 whose rosy cheek grew pale, and her bright eyes dim, at the 
 sight of the wonders exhibited." 
 
 " Peace, I command thee — peace! " said Tressilian. 
 
 " I mean your worship no offense," said the fellow; " but I 
 have cause to remember how, to relieve the young maiden's 
 fears, you condescended to point out the mode in which these 
 deceptions were practiced, and to baffle the poor juggler by 
 laying bare the mysteries of his art, as ably as if you had been 
 a brother of his order. She was indeed so fair a maiden that, 
 to win a smile of her, a man might well " 
 
 ^ Not a word more of her, I charge thee! " said Tressilian. 
 " I do well remember the night you speak of — one of the few 
 happy evenings my life has known." 
 
 " She is gone, then," said the smith, interpreting after his 
 own fashion the sigh with which Tressilian uttered these 
 words — " she is gone, young, beautiful, and beloved as she 
 was! I crave your worship's pardon, I should have ham- 
 mered on another theme — I see I have unwarily driven the 
 nail to the quick." 
 
11« WAVERLBT NOVELS. 
 
 This speech was made with a mixture of rude feeling which 
 inclined Tressilian favorably to the poor artisan, of whom 
 before he was inchned to judge very harshly. But nothing 
 can so soon attract the unfortunate as real or seeming sym- 
 pathy with their sorrows. 
 
 "I think," proceeded Tressilian, after a minute's silence, 
 " thou wert in those days a jovial fellow, who could keep a 
 company merry by song, and tale, and rebeck, as well as by 
 thy juggling tricks; why do I find thee a laborious handi- 
 craftsman, plying thy trade in so melancholy a dwelling, and 
 under such extraordinary circumstances? " 
 
 " My story is no-t long," said the artist; " but your honor 
 had better sit while you listen to it." So. saying, he ap- 
 proached to the fire a three-footed stool, and took another 
 himself, while Dickie Sludge, or Flibbertigibbet, as he called 
 the boy, drew a cricket to the smith's feet, and looked up in 
 his face with features which, as illuminated by the glow of the 
 forge, seemed convulsed with intense curiosity. " Thou too," 
 said the smith to him, " shalt learn, as thou well deservest at 
 my hand, the brief history of my life, and, in troth, it were as 
 well tell it thee as leave thee to ferret it out, since nature 
 never packed a shrewder wit into a more ungainly casket. 
 Well, sir, if my poor story may pleasure you, it is at your com- 
 mand. But will you not taste a stoup of liquor? I promise 
 you that even in this poor cell I have some in store." 
 
 " Speak not of it," said Tressilian, " but go on with thy 
 story, for my leisure is brief." 
 
 " You shall have no cause to rue the delay," said the smith, 
 " for your horse shall be better fed in the meantime than he 
 hath been this morning, and made fitter for travel." 
 
 With that the artist left the vault, and returned after a few 
 minutes' interval. Here, also, we pause, that the narrative 
 may commence in another chapter. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 I fay, my lord can such a Bubtilty 
 (But all his craft ye must not wot of me, 
 And somewhat help I yet to his working). 
 That all the ground on which we ben riding, 
 Till that we come to Canterbury town, 
 He can all clean turnen so up so down, 
 And pave it all of silver and of gold. 
 
 — The Canon's Yeoman's Prologue— Canterbury Talu. 
 
 The artist commenced his narrative in the following terms: 
 
 " I was bred a blacksmith, and knew my art as well as e'er 
 a black-thumb'd, leathem-apron'd, swart-faced knave of that 
 noble mystery. But I tired of ringing hammer-tunes on iron 
 stithies, and went out into the world, where I became ac- 
 quainted with a celebrated juggler, whose fingers had become 
 rather too stiff for legerdemain, and who wished to have the 
 aid of an apprentice in his noble mystery. I served him for 
 six years, until I was master of my trade. I refer myself to 
 your worship, whose judgment cannot be disputed, whether I 
 did not learn to ply the craft indifferently well ? " 
 
 " Excellently," said Tressilian; " but be brief." 
 
 " It was not long after I had performed at Sir Hugh Rob- 
 sart's, in your worship's presence," said the artist, " that I 
 took myself to the stage, and have swaggered with the bravest 
 of them all, both at the Black Bull, the Globe, the Fo-rtune, 
 and elsewhere; but I know not how, apples were so plenty that 
 year that the lads in the twopenny gallery never took more 
 than one bite out of them, and threw the rest of the pippin 
 at whatever actor chanced to be on the stage. So I tired of it, 
 renounced my half-share in the company, gave my foil to my 
 comrade, my buskins to the wardrobe, and showed the theater 
 a clean pair of heels." 
 
 " Well, friend, and what," said Tressilian, " was your next 
 shift?" 
 
 " I became," said the smith, " half -partner, half-domestic, 
 to a man of much skill and little substance, who practiced 
 the trade of a physicianer." 
 
 "In other words," said Tressilian, "you were Jack Pud- 
 ding to a quacksalver." 
 
 " Something beyond that, let me hope, my good Master 
 Tressilian," replied the artist; "and yet, to say truth, our 
 
 ur 
 
118 
 
 WAVBBLET NOVELS. 
 
 practice was of an adventurous description, and the pharmacy 
 which I had acquired in my first studies for the benefit of 
 horses was frequently applied to our human patients. But 
 the seeds of all maladies are the same; and if turpentine, tar, 
 pitch, and beef-suet, mingled with turmeric, gum-mastic, 
 and one head of garlick can cure the horse that hath been 
 grieved with a nail, I see not but what it may benefit the man 
 that hath been pricked with a sword. But my master's prac- 
 tice, as well as his skill, went far beyond mine, and dealt in 
 more dangerous concerns. He was not only a bold, adventu- 
 rous practitioner in physics, but also, if your pleasure so 
 chanced to be, an adept, who read the stars, and expounded 
 the fortunes of mankind, genethliacally, as he called it, or 
 otherwise. He was a learned distiller of simples, and a pro- 
 found chemist — made several efforts to fix mercury, and 
 judged himself to have made a fair hit at the philosopher's 
 stone. I have yet a programme of his on that subject, which, 
 if your honor understandeth, I believe you have the better, 
 not only of all who read, but also of him who wrote it." 
 
 He gave Tressilian a scroll of parchment, bearing at top 
 and bottom, and down the margin, the signs of the seven 
 planets, curiously intermingled with talismanical characters, 
 and scraps of Greek and Hebrew. In the midst were some 
 Latin verses from a oabalistical author, written out so fairly, 
 that even the gloom of the place did not prevent Tressilian 
 from reading them. The tenor of the original ran as follows: 
 
 *' Si fixum solvas, faciasque volare solutum, 
 Et volucrem figas, facient te vivere tutum ; 
 Si pariat ventnm, valet auri pondere centum; 
 Ventus ubi vult spirat — capiat qui capei*e potest." 
 
 ^^ I protest to you," said Tressilian, " all I understand of 
 this jargon is, that the last words seem to mean ' Catch who 
 catch can.' " 
 
 " That," said the smith, " is the very principle that my 
 worthy friend and master, Dr. Doboobie, always acted upon; 
 until, being besotted with his own imaginations, and con- 
 ceited of his high chemical skill, he began to spend, in cheat- 
 ing himself, the money which he had acquired in cheating 
 others, and either discovered or built for himself, I could 
 never know which, this secret elaboratory, in which he used 
 to seclude himself both from patients and disciples, who 
 doubtless thought his long and mysterious absences from his 
 ordinary residence in the town of Farringdon were occasioned 
 by his progress in the mystic sciences, and his intercourse 
 
KENILWORTH. H» 
 
 with the invisible world. Me also he tried to deceive; but, 
 though I contradicted him not, he saw that I knew too much 
 of his secrets to be any longer a safe companion. Meanwhile, 
 his name waxed famous cir rather infamous, and many of those 
 who resorted to him did so under persuasion that he was a 
 sorcerer. And yet his supposed advance in the occult 
 sciences drew to him the secret resort of men too powerful to 
 be named, for purposes too dangerous to be mentioned. Men 
 cursed and threatened him, and bestowed on me, the inno- 
 cent assistant of his studies, the nickname of the Devil's foot- 
 post, which procured me a volley of stones as soon as ever I ^ 
 ventured to show my face in the street of the village. At 
 length my master suddenly disappeared, pretending to me 
 that he was about to visit his elaboratory in this place, and 
 forbidding me to disturb him till two days were past. When 
 this period had elapsed, I became anxious, and resorted to this 
 vault, where I found the fires extinguished and the utensils 
 in confusion, with a note from the learned Doboobius, as he 
 was wont to style himself, acquainting me that we should 
 never meet again, bequeathing me his chemical apparatus 
 and the parchment which I have just put into your hands, 
 advising me strongly to prosecute the secret which it con- 
 tained, which would infallibly lead me to the discovery of the 
 grand magisterium." 
 
 " And didst thou follow this sage advice? " said Tressilian. 
 
 " Worshipful sir, no,'' replied the smith; " for being by 
 nature cautious, and suspicious from knowing with whom I 
 had to do, I made so many perquisitions before I ventured 
 even to light a fire, that I at length discovered a small barrel 
 of gunpowder, carefully hid beneath the furnace, with the 
 purpose, no doubt, that, as soon as I should commence the 
 grand work of the transmutation of metals, the explosion 
 should transmute the vault and all in it into a heap of ruins, 
 which might serve at once for my slaughter-house and my 
 grave. This cured me of alchemy, and fain would I have 
 returned to the honest hammer and anvil; but who would 
 bring a horse to be shod by the Devil's post? Meantime, I 
 had won the regard of my honest Flibbertigibbet here, he 
 being then at Farringdon with his master, the sage Erasmus 
 Holiday, by teaching him a few secrets, such as please youth 
 at his age; and after much counsel together we agreed that, 
 since I could get no practice in the ordinary way, I should try- 
 how I could work out business among these ignorant boors 
 by practicing upon their silly fears; and, thanks to Flibberti- 
 
130 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 gibbet, who hath spread my renown, I have not wanted cus- 
 tom, but it is won at too great risk, and I fear I shall be at 
 length taken up for a wizard; so that I seek but an oppor- 
 tunity to leave his vault when I can have the protection of 
 some worshipful person against the fury of the populace, in 
 case they chance to recognize me." 
 
 "And art thou," said Tressilian, "perfectly acquainted 
 with the roads in this country? " 
 
 " I could ride them every inch by midnight," answered 
 Wayland Smith, which was the name this adept had assumed. 
 
 " Thou hast no horse to ride upon," said Tressilian. 
 
 " Pardon me," replied Wayland, " I have as good a tit as 
 ever yeoman bestrode; and I forgot to say it was the best part 
 of the mediciner's legacy to me, excepting one or two of the 
 choicest of his medical secrets, which I picked up without his 
 knowledge and against his will." 
 
 " Get thyself washed and shaved, then," said Tressilian; 
 '' reform thy dress as well as thou canst, and fling away these 
 grotesque trappings; and, so thou wilt be secret and faithful, 
 thou shalt follow me for a short time, till thy pranks here are 
 forgotten. Thou hast, I think, both address and courage, 
 and I have matter to do that may require both." 
 
 Wayland Smith eagerly embraced the proposal, and pro- 
 tested his devotion to his new master. In a very few minutes 
 he had made so great an alteration in his original appearance, 
 by change of dress, trimming his beard and hair, and so forth, 
 that Tressilian could not help remarking, that he thought he 
 would stand in little need of a protector, since none of his old 
 acquaintance were likely to recognize him. 
 
 " My debtors would not pay me money," said Wayland, 
 shaking his head; " but my creditors of every kind would be 
 less easily blinded. And, in truth, I hold myself not safe, 
 unless under the protection of a gentleman, of birth and char- 
 acter, as is your worship." 
 
 So saying, he led the way out of the cavern. He then 
 called loudly for Hobgoblin, who, after ligering for an in- 
 stant, appeared with the horse furniture, when Wayland 
 closed, and sedulously covered up, the trap-door, observing, 
 it might again serve him at his need, besides that the tools 
 were worth somewhat. A whistle from the owner brought to 
 his side a nag that fed quietly on the common, and was accus- 
 tomed to the signal. While he accoutered him for the jour- 
 ney, Tressilian drew his own girths tighter, and in a few min- 
 Tites both were ready to mount. 
 
KENILWORTH. 121 
 
 At this moment Sludge approached to bid them farewell. 
 
 " You are going to leave me, then, my old playfellow/' said 
 the boy; " and there is an end of all our game at bo-peep with 
 the cowardly lubbards whom I brought hither to have their 
 broad-footed nags shod by the devil and his imps? " 
 
 " It is even so," said Wayland Smith; " the best friends 
 must part. Flibbertigibbet; but thou, my boy, art the only 
 thing in the Vale of Whitehorse which I shall regret to leave 
 behind me." 
 
 " Well, I bid thee not farewell," said Dickie Sludge, " for 
 you will be at these revels, I judge, and so shall I; for if 
 ■Dominie Holiday take me not thither, by the light of day, 
 [which we see not in yonder dark hole, I will take myself 
 [there! " 
 
 "In good time," said Wayland; "but I pray you to do 
 E naught rashly." 
 
 '* Nay, now you would make a child — a common child of 
 [me, and tell me of the risk of walking without leading-strings. 
 ;But before you are a mile from these stones you shall know 
 [by a sure token that I have more of the hobgoblin about me 
 ■than you credit; and I will so manage that, if you take advan- 
 [tage, you may profit by my prank." 
 
 "What dost thou mean, boy?" said Tressilian; but Flib- 
 [bertigibbet only answered with a grin and a caper, and bid- 
 ing both of them farewell, and at the same time exhorting 
 [them to make the best of their way from the place, he set 
 [them the example by running homeward with the same un- 
 [common velocity with which he had baffled Tressilian's for- 
 [mer attempts to get hold of him. 
 
 " It is in vain to chase him," said Wayland Smith; " for, 
 [unless your worship is expert in lark-hunting, we should 
 [never catch hold of him; and, besides, what would it avail? 
 Better make the best of our way hence, as he advises." 
 
 They mounted their horses accordingly, and began to pro- 
 ceed at a round pace, as soon as Tressilian had explained to 
 his guide the direction in which he desired to travel. 
 
 After they had trotted nearly a mile, Tressilian could not 
 help observing to his companion, that his horse felt more 
 lively under him than even when he mounted in the morning. 
 
 "Are you avised of that?" said Wayland Smith, smiling. 
 " That is owing to a little secret of mine. I mixed that with 
 an handful of oats which shall save your worship's heels the 
 trouble of spurring these six hours at least. Nay, I have not 
 studied medicine and pharmacy for naught." 
 
122 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 " I trust," said Tressilian, " your drugs will do my horse no 
 harm?" 
 
 "No more than the mare's milk which foaled him/' an- 
 swered the artist; and was proceeding to dilate on the excel- 
 lence of his recipe, when he was interrupted by an explosion 
 as loud and tremendous as the mine which blows up the ram- 
 part of a beleaguered city. The horses started, and the riders 
 were equally surprised. They turned to gaze in the direction 
 from which the thunder-clap was heard, and beheld, just over 
 the spot they had left so recently, a huge pillar of dark smoke 
 rising high into the clear blue atmosphere. " My habitation 
 is gone to wreck," said Wayland, immediately conjecturing 
 the cause of the explosion. " I was a fool to mention the 
 doctor's kind intentions toward my mansion before that limb 
 of mischief Flibbertigibbet: I might have guessed he would 
 long to put so rare a frolic into execution. But let us hasten 
 on, for tiie sound will collect the country to the spot." 
 
 So saying, he spurred his horse, and Tressilian also quick- 
 ening his speed, they rode briskly forward. 
 
 " This, then, was the meaning of the little imp's token 
 which he promised us?" said Tressilian; "had we lingered 
 near the spot, we had found it a love-token with a vengeance." 
 
 " He would have given us warning," said the smith; " I saw 
 him look back more than once to see if we were off — 'tis a 
 very devil for mischief, yet not an ill-natured devil either. It 
 were long to tell your honor how I became first acquainted 
 with him, and how many tricks he played me. Many a good 
 turn he did me too, especially in bringing me customers; for 
 his great delight was to see them sit shivering behind the 
 bushes when they heard the click of my hammer. I think 
 Dame Nature, when she lodged a double quantity of brains in 
 that misshapen head of his, gave him the power of enjoying 
 other people's distresses as she gave them the pleasure of 
 laughing at his ugliness." 
 
 "It may be so," said Tressilian; "those who find them- 
 selves severed from society by peculiarities of form, if they do 
 not hate the common bulk of mankind, are at least not alto- 
 gether indisposed to enjoy their mishaps and calamities." 
 
 "But Flibbertigibbet," answered Wayland, "hath that 
 about him which may redeem his turn for mischievous frolic; 
 for he is as faithful when attached as he is tricky and malig- 
 nant to strangers; and, as I said before, I have cause to 
 say so." 
 
 Tressilian pursued the conversation no farther; and they 
 
KENILWORTm 123 
 
 continued their journey toward Devonshire without farther 
 adventure, until they alighted at an inn in the town of Marl- 
 borough, since celebrated for having given title to the greatest 
 general (excepting one) whom Britain ever pro'duced. Here 
 the travelers received, in the same breath, an example of the 
 truth of two old proverbs, namely, that 111 news fly fast, and 
 that Listeners seldom hear a good tale of themselves. 
 
 The innyard was in a sort of combustion when they 
 alighted; insomuch, that they could scarce get man or boy to 
 take care of their horses, so full were the whole household of 
 some news which flew from tongue to tongue, the import of 
 which they were for some time unable to discover. At length, 
 indeed, they found it respected matters which touched them 
 nearly. 
 
 "What is the matter, say you, master?" answered, at length, 
 the head hostler, in reply to TressiliaQ's repeated questions. 
 "Why, truly, I scarce know myself. But here was a rider 
 but now, who says that the devil hath flown away with him 
 they called Wayland Smith, that won'd about three miles 
 from the Whitehorse of Berkshire, this very blessed morning, 
 in a flash of fire and a pillar of smoke, and rooted up the place 
 he dwelt in, near that old cockpit of upright stones, as cleanly 
 as if it had all been delved up for a cropping." 
 
 " Why, then," said an old farmer, " the more is the pity; 
 
 ifor that Wayland Smith — whether he was the deviFs crony or 
 
 no I skill not — had a good notion of horse diseases, and it's to 
 
 be thought the hots will spread in the country far and near, 
 
 an Satan has not gien un time to leave his secret behind un." 
 
 " You may say that. Gaffer Grimesby," said the hostler in 
 return; " I have carried a horse to Wayland Smith myself, for 
 he passed all farriers in this country." 
 
 " Did you see him? " said Dame Alison Crane, mistress of 
 the inn bearing that sign, and deigning to term ' husband ' 
 the owner thereof, a mean-looking hop-o'-my-thumb sort of 
 person, whose halting gait, and long neck, and meddling, 
 henpecked insignificance are supposed to have given origin 
 to the celebrated old English tune of " My Dame hath a lame 
 tame Crane." 
 
 On this occasion he chirped out a repetition of his wife's 
 question, " Didst see the devil. Jack Hostler, I say? " 
 
 " And what if I did see un, Master Crane? " replied Jack 
 Hostler, for, like all the rest of the household, he paid as little 
 respect to his master as his mistress herself did. 
 
 "Nay, naught. Jack Hostler," repUed the pacific Master 
 
124 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 Crane, " only if you saw the devil, methinks I would like to 
 know what un's like? " 
 
 " You will know that one day. Master Crane," said his help- 
 mate, "an ye mend not your manners and mind your busi- 
 ness, leaving olff such idle palabras. But truly. Jack Hostler, 
 I should be glad to know myself what like the fellow was." 
 
 " Why, dame," said the hostler, more respectfully, " as for 
 what he was like I cannot tell, nor no man else, for why I 
 never saw un." 
 
 " And how didst thou get thine errand done," said Gaffer 
 Grimesby, " if thou seedst him not? " 
 
 " Why, I had schoolmaster to write down ailment o' nag," 
 said Jack Hostler; " and I went wi^ the ugliest slip of a boy 
 for my guide as ever man cut out o' lime-tree root to please a 
 child withal." 
 
 "And what was it? and did it cure your nag. Jack Hos- 
 tler? " was uttered and echoed by all who stood around. 
 
 " Why, how can I tell you what it was? " said the hostler; 
 " simply it smelled and tasted — for I did make bold to put a \ 
 pea's substance into my mouth — like hartshorn and savin 
 mixed with vinegar; but then no hartshorn and savin ever i 
 wrought so speedy a cure. And I am dreading that, if Way- 
 land Smith be gone, the bots will have more power over horse \ 
 and cattle." 
 
 The pride of art, which is certainly not inferior in its in- ^ 
 fluence to any other pride whatever, here so far operated on 
 Wayland Smith that, notwithstanding the obvious danger of 
 his being recognized, he could not help winking to Tressilian, 
 and smiling mysteriously, as if triumphing in the undoubted 
 evidence of his veterinary skill. In the meanwhile, the dis- 
 course continued. 
 
 " E'en let it be so," said a grave man in black, the com- 
 panion of Gaffer Grimesby — " e'en let us perish under the evil 
 God sends us, rather than the devil be our doctor." 
 
 " Very true," said Dame Crane; " and I marvel at Jack 
 Hostler that he would peril his own soul to cure the bowels of 
 a nag." 
 
 " Very true, mistress," said Jack Hostler, " butHhe nag was 
 my master's; and had it been yours, I think ye would ha' held 
 me cheap enow an I had feared the devil when the poor beast 
 was in such a taking. For the rest, let the clergy look to it. 
 Every man to his craft, says the proverb — ^the parson to the 
 prayer-book and the groom to his currycomb." 
 
 " I TOW," said Dame Crane, " I think Jack Hostler speaks 
 
KEmLWOBTH. 
 
 135 
 
 IP-!.,* ^u*^ Christian and a faithful servant, who will snare 
 
 Se^XSteZhimt' r''^ T''''' ^^'''' How'^er^'tr 
 cZe hfthir thl • *'T' ^°' ^ constable of the hundred 
 
 tri^. .f -f u \'°°""''« *° ««* oW Gaffer Pinniewinks the 
 tner of wit^ches, to go with him to the Vale of WlStehoSe to 
 comprehend Way and Smith, and put him to his pmSo.^ 
 
 awl, and I saw the warrant from Justice Blindas." ^ 
 
 i'ooh— pooh, the devil would laugh both at Blindas and 
 cZkT>P '''*?'','" ^f witch-finderi boot," Lfd old Dame 
 m^d PinnielTn wi^™,**'"^' " "^^y^^^ Smith's flesh wouM 
 W ^- Tn ^^ \.^"^^ '^° "'"'■e than a cambric ruff minds a 
 
 s wff^ M t^foSt^^^ rpaSg^- 
 
 f'Lble^^opleT^"^ *° '° *'^ ^^"^^^ ^-' °- -- ' -- 
 
 tirZ'A*™®^^'^® ?*'^'" ^"^ the hostler; « so said Simp- 
 fcms of Simonbum when the curate kissed his wife-'S 
 are a comfortable people,' said he " ^ 
 
 «,-a -l^^l' *°? foul-mouthed vermin," said Dame Crank- 
 te;'41^e\thKL^7t^°^ '""^ *^- *» ^-"« -^ a 
 vn^i^if*'"*'' ''°' '^™®'" ''®P"«'J *e man of oats; "and as vou 
 
 Zcurintrir.f ^ ^y ^u*^ obsequious host on the errand of 
 ri^LTtoTst^ltmScf ^ ^^^'-^ ^-^^^ ''«^- 
 
 S7tel^r ?Ce do-Serr tt ^dn?| 
 oetter judges in .uch a ca£, know ^hat c^Tth^XSd 
 
126 WAVEMLBT NOYBLS. 
 
 attach to my medicaments. I call you to witness, worshiptui 
 Master Tressilian, that naught, save the voice of calumny and 
 the hand of malicious violence, hath driven me forth from ? 
 station in which I held a place alike useful and honored." 
 
 " I bear witness, my friend, but will reserve my listening/^ 
 answered Tressilian, " for a safer time; unless, indeed, you 
 deem it essential to your reputation to be translated, like your 
 late dwelling, by the assistance of a flash of fire. For you see 
 your best friends reckon you no better than a mere sorcerer.'' 
 
 " Now, Heaven forgive them," said the artist, " who con- 
 found learned skill with unlawful magic! I trust a man may 
 be as skillful, or more so, than the best chirurgeon ever med- 
 dled with horse-flesh and yet may be upon the matter little 
 more than other ordinary men, or at the worst no conjurer." 
 
 " God forbid else! " said Tressilian. " But be silent just 
 for the present, since here comes mine host with an assistant, 
 who seems something of the least." 
 
 Everybody about the inn, Dame Crank [Crane] herself in- 
 cluded, had been indeed so interested and agitated by the 
 story they had heard of "Wayland Smith, and by the new, 
 varying, and more marvelous editions of the incident, which 
 arrived from various quarters, that mine host, in his right- 
 eous determination to accommodate his guests, had been able 
 to obtain the assistance of none of his household, saving that 
 of a little boy, a junior tapster, of about twelve years old, 
 who was called Sampson. 
 
 " I wish," he said, apologizing to his guests, as he set down 
 a flagon of sack, and promised some food immediately — " 1 
 wish the devil had flown away with my wife and my whole 
 family instead of this Wayland Smith, who, I dare say, aftei 
 all said and done, was much less worthy of the distinction 
 which Satan has done him." 
 
 " I hold opinion with you, good fellow," replied Wayland 
 Smith; " and I will drink to you upon that argument." 
 
 " Not that I would justify any man who deals with the 
 devil," said mine host, after having pledged Wayland in a 
 rousing draught of sack, " but that — saw ye ever better sack, 
 my masters? — ^but that, I say, a man had better deal with a 
 dozen cheats and scoundrel fellows, such as this Wayland 
 Smith, than with a devil incarnate, that takes possession of 
 house and home, bed and board." 
 
 The poor fellow's detail of grievances was here interruptecl 
 by the shrill voice of his helpmate, screaming from the 
 kitchen, to which he instantly hobbled, craving pardon of his 
 
KBNILWORTB. 12Y 
 
 guests. He was no sooner gone than Wayland Smith ex- 
 pressed, by every contemptuous epithet in the language, his 
 utter scorn for a nincompoop who stuck his head under his 
 wife's apron string; and intimated that, saving for the sake 
 of the horses, which required both rest and food, he would ad- 
 vise his worshipful Master Tressilian to push on a stage 
 farther, rather than pay a reckoning to such a mean-spirited, 
 crow-trodden, hen-pecked coxcomb as Gaffer Crane. 
 
 The arrival of a large dish of good cow-heel and bacon 
 something soothed the asperity of the artist, which wholly 
 vanished before a choice capon so delicately roasted that " the 
 lard frothed on it,'' said Wayland, " like May-dew on a lily '; 
 and both Gaifer Crane and his good dame became, in his eyes, 
 very painstaking, accommodating, obliging persons. 
 
 According to the manners of the times, the master and his 
 attendant sat at the same table, and the latter observed, with 
 regret, how little attention Tressilian paid to his meal. He 
 recollected, indeed, the pain he had given by mentioning the 
 maiden in whose company he had first seen him; but, fearful 
 of touching upon a topic too tender to be tampered with, he 
 chose to ascribe his abstinence to another cause. 
 
 " This fare is perhaps too coarse for your worship," said 
 Wayland, as the limbs of the capon disappeared before his 
 own exertions; '^ but had you dwelt as long as I have done in 
 yonder dungeon, which Flibbertigibbet has translated to the 
 upper element, a place where I dared hardly broil my food, 
 lest the smoke be seen without, you would think a fair capon 
 a more welcome dainty." 
 
 "If you are pleased, friend," said Tressilian, "it is well. 
 Nevertheless, hasten thy meal if thou canst, for this place is 
 unfriendly to thy safety, and my concerns crave traveling." 
 
 Allowing, therefore, their horses no more rest than was 
 absolutely necessary for them, they pursued their journey by 
 a forced march as far as Bradford, where they reposed them- 
 selves for the night. 
 
 The next morning found them early travelers. And, not 
 to fatigue the reader with unnecessary particulars, they trav- 
 ersed without adventure the counties of Wiltshire and Somer- 
 set, and, about noon of the third day after Tressilian's leav- 
 ing Cumnor, arrived at Sir Hugh Eobsart's seat, called 
 Lidcote Hall, on the frontiers of Devonshire. 
 
CHAPTEE XII. 
 
 Ill me ! the flower and blossom of your house, 
 The wind hath blown away to other towers, 
 
 —Joanna Baillik's Family Legend. 
 
 The ancient seat of Lidcote Hall was situated near the vil- 
 lage of the same name, and adjoined the wild and extensive 
 forest of Exmoor, plentifully stocked with game, in which 
 some ancient rights belonging to the Eobsart family entitled 
 Sir Hugh to pursue his favorite amusement of the chase. 
 The old mansion was a low, venerable building, occupying a 
 considerable space of ground, which was surrounded by a deep 
 moat. The approach and drawbridge were defended by an 
 octagonal tower, of ancient brickwork, but so clothed with ivy 
 and other creepers that it was difl&cult to discover of what 
 materials it was constructed. The angles of this tower were 
 each decorated with a turret, whimsically various in form and 
 in size, and, therefore, very unlike the monotonous stone 
 pepper-boxes which, in modem Gothic architecture, are em- 
 ployed for the same purpose. One of these turrets was 
 square, and occupied as a clock-house. But the clock was 
 now standing still — a circumstance peculiarly striking to 
 Tressilian, because the good old knight, among other harm- 
 less peculiarities, had a fidgety anxiety about the exact meas- 
 urement of time, very common to those who have a great deal 
 of that commodity to dispose of, and find it lie heavy upon 
 their hands — just as we see shopkeepers amuse themselves 
 with taking an exact account of their stock at the time there 
 is least demand for it. 
 
 The entrance to the courtyard of the old mansion lay 
 through an archway, surmounted by the foresaid tower, but 
 the drawbridge was down, and one leaf of the iron-studded 
 folding-doors stood carelessly open. Tressilian hastily rode 
 over the drawbridge, entered the court, and began to call 
 loudly on the domestics by their names. For some time he 
 was only answered by the echoes and the howling of the 
 hounds, whose kennel lay at no great distance from the man- 
 sion, and was surrounded by the same moat. At length Will 
 Badger, the old and favorite attendant of the knight, who 
 ftcted alike as squire of his body and superintendent of his 
 
 i9B 
 
KENILWORTK 129 
 
 sports, made his appearance. The stout weather-beaten for- 
 ester showed great signs of joy when he recognized Tressilian. 
 
 " Lord love you," he said, " Master Edmund, be it thou in 
 flesh and fell? Then thou mayst do some good on Sir Hugh, 
 for it passes the wit of man — that is, of mine own, and the 
 curate's, and Master Mumblazen's — to do aught wi'un." 
 
 "Is Sir Hugh then worse since I went away. Will?" de- 
 manded Tressilian. 
 
 " For worse in body — no, he is much better," replied the 
 domestic; " but he is clean mazed as it were — eats and drinks 
 as he was wont, but sleeps not, or rather wakes not, for he is 
 ever in a sort of twilight, that is neither sleeping nor waking. 
 Dame Swineford thought it was like the dead palsy. ' But 
 no — ^no, dame,' said I, ' it is the heart — it is the heart.' " 
 
 " Can ye not stir his mind to any pastimes? " said Tres- 
 silian. 
 
 " He is clean and quite off his sports," said Will Badger; 
 "hath neither touched backgammon or shovel-board, nor 
 looked on the big book of harrowtry wi' Master Mumblazen. 
 I let the clock run down, thinking the missing the bell might 
 somewhat move him, for you know. Master Edmund, he was 
 particular in counting time; but he never said a word on't, so 
 I may e'en set the old chime a-towling again. I made bold 
 to tread on Bungay's tail too, and you know what a round 
 rating that would ha' cost me once a day; but he minded the 
 poor tyke's whine no more than a madge-howlet whooping 
 down the chimney: so the case is beyond me." 
 
 " Thou shalt tell me the rest within doors. Will. Mean- 
 while, let this person be ta'en to the buttery, and used with 
 respect. He is a man of art." 
 
 " White art or black art, I would," said Will Badger, " that 
 he had any art which could help us. Here, Tom Butler, look 
 to the man of art; and see that he steals none of thy spoons, 
 lad," he added in a whisper to the butler, who showed himself 
 at a low window, " I have known as honest a faced fellow have 
 art enough to do that." 
 
 He then ushered Tressilian into a low parlor, and went, at 
 his desire, to see in what state his master was, lest the sudden 
 return of his darling pupil, and proposed son-in-law, should 
 affect him too strongly. He returned immediately, and said 
 that Sir Hugh was dozing in his elbow-chair, but that Master 
 Mumblazen would acquaint Master Tressilian the instant he 
 awaked. 
 
 "But it is chance if he knows you," said the huntsman, 
 
130 WAVERLE7 NOVELS. 
 
 " for he has forgotten the name of every hound in the pack. 
 I thought about a week since he had gotten a favorable turn. 
 ^ Saddle me old Sorrel,' said he, suddenly, after he had taken 
 his usual night-draught out of the great silver grace-cup, ' and 
 take the hounds to Mount Hazelhurst to-morrow/ Glad 
 men were we all, and out we had him in the morning, and he 
 rode to cover as usual, with never a word spoken but that the 
 wind was south and the scent would lie. But ere we had un- 
 coupled the hounds he began to stare round him, like a man 
 that wakes suddenly out of a dream — turns bridle and walks 
 back to hall again, and leaves us to hunt at leisure by our 
 selves, if we listed." 
 
 "You tell a heavy tale, Will," replied Tressilian; "but 
 God must help us — ^there is no aid in man." 
 
 " Then you bring us no news of young Mistress Amy? 
 But what need I ask — your brow tells the story. Ever I 
 hoped that, if any man could or would track her, it must be 
 you. AlFs over and lost now. But if ever I have that Yar- 
 ney within reach of a flight-shot, I will bestow a forked shaft 
 on him; and that I swear by salt and bread." 
 
 As he spoke, the door opened, and Master Mumblazen ap- 
 peared — a withered, thin, elderly gentleman, with a cheek 
 like a winter apple, and his gray hair partly concealed by a 
 small high hat, shaped like a cone, or rather like such a straw- 
 berry-basket as London fruiterers exhibit at their windows. 
 He was too sententious a person to waste words on mere salu- 
 tation; so, having welcomed Tressilian with a nod and a shake 
 of the hand, he beckoned him to follow to Sir Hugh's great 
 chamber, which the good knight usually inhabited. Will 
 Badger followed, unasked, anxious to see whether his master 
 would be relieved from his state of apathy by the arrival of 
 Tressilian. 
 
 In a long low parlor, amply furnished with implements of 
 the chase, and with silvan trophies, by a massive stone chim- 
 ney, over which hung a sword and suit of armor, somewhat 
 obscured by neglect, sat Sir Hugh Eobsart of Lidcote, a man 
 of large size, which had been only kept within moderate com- 
 pass by the constant use of violent exercise. It seemed to 
 Tressilian that the lethargy under which his old friend ap- 
 peared to labor had, even during his few weeks' absence, 
 added bulk to his person; at least it had obviously diminished 
 the vivacity of his eye, which, as they entered, first followed 
 Master Mumblazen slowly to a large oaken desk, on which a 
 ponderous volume lay open, and then rested, as if in uncer- 
 
KENILWOBTK 131 
 
 tainty, on the stranger who had entered along with him. 
 The curate, a gray-headed clergyman, who had been a confes- 
 sor in the days of Queen Mary, sat with a book in his hand in 
 another recess in the apartment. He, too, signed a mournful 
 greeting to Tressilian, and laid his book aside, to watch the 
 eifect his appearance should produce on the afflicted old man. 
 
 As Tressilian, his own eyes filling fast with tears, ap- 
 proached more and more nearly to the father of his betrothed 
 bride. Sir Hugh's intelligence seemed to revive. He sighed 
 heavily, as one who awakens from a state of stupor, a slight 
 convulsion passed over his features, he opened his arms with- 
 out speaking a word, and, as Tressilian threw himself into 
 them, he folded him to his bosom. 
 
 "There is something left to live for yet," were the first 
 words he uttered; and while he spoke, he gave vent to his 
 feelings in a paroxysm of weeping, the tears chasing each 
 other down his sunburnt cheeks and long white beard. 
 
 " I ne'er thought to have thanked God to see my master 
 weep," said Will Badger; " but now I do, though I am like to 
 weep for company." 
 
 " I will ask thee no questions," said the old knight — " no 
 questions — none, Edmund; thou hast not found her, or so 
 found her that she were better lost." 
 
 Tressilian was unable to reply, otherwise than by putting 
 his hands before his face. 
 
 " It is enough — it is enough. But do not thou weep for 
 her, Edmund. I have cause to weep, for she was my daugh- 
 ter; thou hast cause to rejoice, that she did not become thy 
 wife. Great God! Thou knowest best what is good for us. 
 It was my nightly prayer that I should see Amy and Edmund 
 wedded; had it been granted, it had now been gall added to 
 bitterness." 
 
 " Be comforted, my friend," said the curate, addressing Sir 
 Hugh, " it cannot be that the daughter of all our hopes and 
 affections is the vile creature you would bespeak her." 
 
 " Oh, no," replied Sir Hugh impatiently, " I were wrong to 
 name broadly the base thing she is become; there is some new 
 court name for it, I warrant me. It is honor enough for the 
 daughter of an old De'nshire clown to be the leman of a gay 
 courtier — of Varney too — of Varney, whose grandsire was 
 relieved by my father, when his fortune was broken, at the 
 battle of — the battle of — where Richard was slain; out on my 
 memory! and I waxrant none of you will help me " 
 
 "The battle of Bosworth," said Master Mumblazen, 
 
182 WAVERLEY NOVELS, 
 
 "stricken between Eichard Crookback and Henry Tudor, 
 grandsire of the Queen that now is, ' primo Henrici Septimi/ 
 and in the year one thousand four hundred and eighty-five 
 * post Christum natum.' " * 
 
 " Aye, even so," said the old knight, " every child knows it. 
 But my poor head forgets all it should remember, and re- 
 members only what it would most willingly forget. My brain 
 has been at fault, Tressilian, almost ever since thou hast been 
 away and even yet it hunts counter." 
 
 " Your worship," said the good clergyman, " had better re- 
 tire to your apartment and try to sleep for a little space: the 
 physician left a composing draught, and our Great Phy- 
 sician has commanded us to use earthly means, that we may 
 be strengthened to sustain the trials He sends us." 
 
 " True — true, old friend," said Sir Hugh, " and we will 
 bear our trials manfully. We have lost but a woman. See, 
 Tressilian " — he drew from his bosom a long ringlet of glossy 
 hair — " see this lock! I tell thee, Edmund, the very night 
 she disappeared, when she bid me good-even, as she was wont, 
 she hung about my neck and fondled me more than usual; 
 and I, like an old fool, held her by this lock, until she took 
 her scissors, severed it, and left it in my hand — as all I was 
 ever to see more of her! " 
 
 Tressilian was unable to reply, well judging what a com- 
 physician left a composing draught, and our Great Phy- 
 happy fugitive at that cruel moment. The clergyman was 
 about to speak, but Sir Hugh interrupted him. 
 
 " I know what you would say. Master Curate — after all, it 
 is but a lock of woman's tresses, and by woman shame, and sin, 
 and death came into an innocent world. And learned Master 
 Mumblazen, too, can say scholarly things of their inferiority." 
 
 " ' C'est rhomme,' " said Master Mumblazen, " ^ qui se 
 bast, et qui conseille.' " 
 
 " True," said Sir Hugh, " and we will bear us, therefore, 
 like men who have both mettle and wisdom in us. Tres- 
 silian, thou art as welcome as if thou hadst brought better 
 news. But we have spoken too long dry-lipped. Amy, fill a 
 cup of wine to Edmund and another to me." Then instantly 
 recollecting that he called upon her who could not hear, he 
 shook his head, and said to the clergyman, " This grief is to 
 my bewildered mind what the church of Lidcote is to our 
 park: we may lose ourselves among the briars and thickets for 
 
 ♦ [Compare p. 91, where the battle of Stoke Is spoken of.] 
 
KENILWORTH, 133 
 
 a little space, but from the end of each avenue we see the old 
 gray steeple and the grave of my forefathers. I would I were 
 to travel that road to-morrow! " 
 
 Tressilian and the curate joined in urging the exhausted 
 old man to lay himself to rest, and at length prevailed. 
 Tressilian remained by his pillow till he saw that slumber 
 at length sunk down on him, and then returned to consult 
 with the curate what steps should be adopted in these un- 
 happy circumstances. 
 
 They could not exclude from these deliberations Master 
 Michael Mumblazen; and they admitted him the more readily 
 that, besides what hopes they entertained from his sagacity, 
 they knew him to be so great a friend to taciturnity that there 
 was no doubt of his keeping counsel. He was an old bachelor 
 of good family, but small fortune, and distantly related to the 
 house of Eobsart; in virtue of which connection, Lidcote 
 Hall had been honored with his residence for the last twenty 
 years. His company was agreeable to Sir Hugh, chiefly on 
 account of his profound learning, which, though it only re- 
 lated to heraldry and genealogy, with such scraps of history 
 as connected themselves with these subjects, was precisely of 
 a kind to captivate the good old knight; besides the conven- 
 ience which he found in having a friend to appeal to, when 
 his own memory, as frequently happened, proved infirm, and 
 played him false concerning names and dates, which, and all 
 similar deficiencies, Master Michael Mumblazen supplied with 
 due brevity and discretion. And, indeed, in matters con- 
 cerning the modem world, he often gave, in his enigmatical 
 and heraldic phrase, advice which was well worth attending 
 to, or, in Will Badger's language, started the game while 
 others beat the bush. 
 
 " We have had an unhappy time of it with the good knight, 
 Master Edmund," said the curate. " I have not suffered so 
 much since I was torn away from my beloved flock, and com- 
 pelled to abandon them to the Eomish wolves." 
 
 " That was in ' tertio Maria,' " said Master Mumblazen. 
 
 " In the name of Heaven," continued the curate, " tell us, 
 has your time been better spent than ours, or have you any 
 news of that unhappy maiden, who, being for so many years 
 the principal joy of this broken-down house, is now proved 
 our greatest unhappiness? Have you not at least discovered 
 her place of residence? " 
 
 " I have," replied Tressilian. " Know you Cumnor Place, 
 n«ar Oxford?" 
 
184 WA VERLET NO VEL8. 
 
 '^ Surely," said the clergyman; " it was a house of removal 
 for the monks of Abingdon." 
 
 " Whose arms," said Master Michael, " I have seen over a 
 stone chimney in the hall — a cross patoncee betwixt four 
 martlets." 
 
 " There," said Tressilian, " this unhappy maiden resides, in 
 company with the villain Yarney. But for a strange mis- 
 hap, my sword had revenged all our injuries, as well as hers, 
 on his worthless head." 
 
 " Thank God, that kept thine hand from blood-guiltiness, 
 rash young man!" answered the curate. ^Vengeance is 
 mine, saith the Lord, and I will repay it.' It were better 
 study to free her from the villain's nets of infamy." 
 
 " They are called, in heraldry, ' laquei amoris,' or ' lacs 
 d'amour,' " said Mumblazen. 
 
 " It is in that I require your aid, my friends," said Tres- 
 silian; " I am resolved to accuse this villain, at the very foot 
 of the throne, of falsehood, seduction, and breach of hospita- 
 ble laws. The Queen shall hear me, though the Earl of 
 Leicester, the villain's patron, stood at her right hand." 
 
 " Her Grace," said the curate, " hath set a comely example 
 of continence to her subjects, and will doubtless do justice 
 on this inhospitable robber. But wert thou not better apply 
 to the Earl of Leicester, in the first place, for justice on his 
 servant? If he grants it, thou dost save the risk of making 
 thyself a powerful adversary, which will certainly chance if, 
 in the first instance, you accuse his master of the horse and 
 prime favorite before the Queen." 
 
 " My mind revolts from your counsel," said Tressilian. " I 
 cannot brook to plead my noble patron's cause — the unhappy 
 Amy's cause — before anyone save my lawful sovereign. 
 Leicester, thou wilt say, is noble; be it so, he is but a subject 
 like ourselves, and I will not carry my plaint to him, if I can 
 do better. Still, I will think on what thou hast said; but I 
 must have your assistance to persuade the good Sir Hugh to 
 make me his commissioner and fiduciary in this matter, for 
 it is in his name I must speak, and not in my own. Since she 
 is so far changed as to dote upon this empty profligate cour- 
 tier, he shall at least do her the justice which is yet in his 
 power." 
 
 " Better she died ' coelebs ' and ^ sine prole,' " said Mum- 
 blazen, with more animation than he usually expressed, " than 
 part, * per pale,' the noble coat of Eobsart with that of such 
 a miscreant! " 
 
KENILWORTK 136 
 
 " If it be your object, as I cannot question," said the clergy- 
 man, '^ to save, as much as is yet possible, the credit of this 
 unhappy young woman, I repeat, you should apply in the 
 first instance, to the Earl of Leicester. He is as absolute in 
 his household as the Queen in her kingdom, and if he ex- 
 presses to Varney that such is his pleasure, her honor will 
 not stand so publicly committed." 
 
 ^^You are right— you are right," said Tressilian eagerly, 
 '^ and I thank you for pointing out what I overlooked in my 
 haste. I little thought ever to have besought grace of Leices- 
 ter; but I could kneel to the proud Dudley, if doing so could 
 remove one shade of shame from this unhappy damsel. You 
 will assist me, then, to procure the necessary powers from Sir 
 HughEobsart?" 
 
 The curate assured him of his assistance and the herald 
 nodded assent. 
 
 " You must hold yourselves also in readiness to testify, in 
 case you are called upon, the open-hearted hospitality which 
 our good patron exercised toward this deceitful traitor, and 
 the solicitude with which he labored to seduce his unhappy 
 daughter." 
 
 " At first, ' said' the clergyman, " she did not, as it seemed 
 to me, much affect his company, but latterly I saw them often 
 together." 
 
 "'Seiant^ in the parlor," said Michael Mumblazen,."aiid 
 ' passant ^ in the garden." 
 
 " I once came on them by chance," said the priest, " in the 
 South wood in a spring evening; Vamey was muffled in a 
 russet cloak, so that I saw not his face; they separated hastily, 
 as they heard me rustle amongst the leaves, and I observed 
 she turned her head and looked long after him." 
 
 " With neck * reguardant,' " said the herald; " and on the 
 day of her flight, and that was on St. Austen's Eve, I saw 
 Vamey's groom, attired in his liveries, hold his master's horse 
 and Mistress Amy's palfrey, bridled and saddled proper, be- 
 hind the wall of the churchyard." 
 
 "And now is she found mewed up in his secret place of 
 retirement," said Tressilian. " The villain is taken in the 
 manner, and I well wish he may deny his crime, that I may 
 thrust conviction down kis false throat! But I must pre- 
 pare for my journey. Do you gentlemen, dispose my patron 
 to grant me such powers as are needful to act in his name." 
 
 So saying, Tressilian left the room. 
 
 " He is too hot," said the curate; " and I pray to God that 
 
136 WALERLET NOVELS. 
 
 He may grant him the patience to deal with Vamey a^ is 
 fitting/' 
 
 " Patience and Vamey/' said Mumblazen, " is worse her- 
 aldry than metal upon metal. He is more false than a siren, 
 more rapacious than a griffin, more poisonous than a wyvem, 
 and more cruel than a Hon rampant." 
 
 '* Yet I doubt much/' said the curate, " whether we can 
 with propriety ask from Sir Hugh Eobsart, being in his 
 present condition, any deed deputing his paternal right in 
 Mistress Amy to whomsoever " 
 
 " Your reverence need not doubt that," said Will Badger, 
 who entered as he spoke, " for I will lay my life he is another 
 man when he wakes than he has been these thirty days past." 
 
 "Aye, Will," said the curate, "hast thou then so much 
 confidence in Dr. Diddleum's draught? " 
 
 " Not a whit," said Will, " because master ne'er tasted a 
 drop on't, seeing it was emptied out by the housemaid. But 
 here's a gentleman, who came attending on Master Tressilian, 
 has given Sir Hugh a draught that is worth twenty of yon un. 
 I have spoken cunningly with him, and a better farrier, or one 
 who hath a more just notion of horse and dog ailment, I have 
 never seen; and such a one would never be unjust to a Chris- 
 tian man." 
 
 " A farrier! you saucy groom. And by whose authority, 
 pray?" said the curate, rising in surprise and indignation; 
 " or who will be warrant for this new physician? " 
 
 "For authority, an it like your reverence, he had mine; 
 and for warrant, I trust I have not been five-and-twenty years 
 in this house without having right to warrant the giving of a 
 draught to beast or body — I who can gie a drench, and a ball, 
 and bleed, or blister, if need, to my very self." 
 
 The counselors of the house of Robsart thought it meet to 
 carry this information instantly to Tressilian, who as speedily 
 summoned before him Wayland Smith, and demanded of him 
 (in private, however), by what authority he had ventured to 
 administer any medicine to Sir Hugh Robsart. 
 
 " Why," replied the artist, " your worship cannot but re- 
 member that I told you I had made more progress into my 
 master's — I mean the learned Dr. Doboobie's — mystery than 
 he was willing to own; and, indeed, half of his quarrel 
 and malice against me was that, besides that I got something 
 too deep into his secrets, several discerning persons, and par- 
 ticularly a buxom young widow of Abingdon, preferred my 
 prescriptions to his." 
 
KENILWORTH, 187 
 
 "None of thy buffoonery, sir/' said Tressilian sternly. 
 ''If thou hast trifled with us — much more, if thou hast 
 done aught that may prejudice Sir Hugh Eobsaxt^s health 
 — thou shalt find thy grave at the bottom of a tin 
 mine." 
 
 " I know too little of the grea-t * arcanum ' to convert the 
 ore to gold," said Wayland firmly. " But truce to your 
 apprehensions. Master Tressilian. I understood the good 
 blight's case, from what Master William Badger told me; 
 and I hope I am able enough to administer a poor dose of 
 mandragora, which, with the sleep that must needs follow, is 
 all that Sir Hugh Robsart requires to settle his distraught 
 brains." 
 
 " I trust thou dealest fairly with me, Wayland? " said Tres- 
 silian. 
 
 " Most fairly and honestly, as the event shall show," replied 
 the artist. " What would it avail me to harm the poor old 
 man for whom you are interested? — you, to whom I owe it 
 that Gaffer Pinniewinks is not even now rending my flesh and 
 sinews with his accursed pincers and probing every mole in 
 my body with his sharpened awl — a murrain on the hands 
 which forged it! — in order to find out the witch's mark? I 
 trust to yoke myself as a humble follower to your worship's 
 train, and I only wish to have my faith judged of by the re- 
 sult of the good knight's slumbers." 
 
 Wayland Smith was right in his prognostication. The 
 sedative draught which his skill had prepared, and Will Bad- 
 ger's confidence had administered, was attended with the 
 most beneficial effects. The patient's sleep was long and 
 healthful; and the poor old knight awoke, humbled indeed in 
 thought, and weak in frame, yet a much better judge of what- 
 ever was subjected to his intellect than he had been for some 
 time past. He resisted for a while the proposal made by his 
 friends that Tressilian should undertake a journey to court, 
 to attempt the recovery of his daughter, and the redress of 
 her wrongs, in so far as they might yet be repaired. " Let 
 her go," he said; " she is but a hawk that goes down the wind; 
 I would not bestow even a whistle to reclaim her." But 
 though he for some time maintained this argument, he was at 
 length convinced it was his duty to take the part to which 
 natural affection inclined him, and consent that such efforts 
 as could yet beimade should be used by Tressilian in behalf of 
 his daughter. He subscribed, therefore, a warrant of at- 
 torney, such as the curate's skill enabled him to draw up; for 
 
138 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 in those simple days the clergy were often the advisers of their 
 flock in law as well as in Gospel. 
 
 All matters were prepared for Tressilian's second departure 
 within twenty-four hours after he had returned to Lidcote 
 Hall; but one material circumstance had been forgotten, 
 which was first called to the remembrance of Tressilian by 
 Master Mumblazen. " You are going to court. Master Tres- 
 silian/' said he; " you will please remember that your blazonry 
 must be ' argent ' and ' or '; no other tinctures will pass cur- 
 rent." The remark was equally just and embarrassing. To 
 prosecute a suit at court, ready money was as indispensable 
 even in the golden days of Elizabeth as at any succeeding 
 period; and it was a commodity little at the command of the 
 inhabitant's of Lidcote Hall. Tressilian was himself poor; 
 the revenues of good Sir Hugh Robsart were consumed, and 
 even anticipated, in his hospitable mode of living; and it was 
 finally necessary that the herald, who started the doubt, 
 should himself solve it. Master Michael Mumblazen did so 
 by producing a bag of money, containing nearly three hun- 
 dred pounds in gold and silver of various coinage, the savings 
 o-f twenty years; which he now, without speaking a syllable 
 upon the subject, dedicated to the service of the patron whose 
 shelter and protection had given him the means of making 
 this little hoard. Tressilian accepted it without affecting a 
 moment's hesitation, and a mutual grasp of the hand was all 
 that passed betwixt them, to express the pleasure which the 
 one felt in dedicating his all to such a purpose, and that 
 which the other received from finding so material an obstacle 
 to the success of his journey so suddenly removed, and in a 
 manner so unexpected. 
 
 "While Tressilian was making preparations for his departure 
 early the ensuing morning, Wayland Smith desired to speak 
 with him; and, expressing his hope that he had been pleased 
 with the operation of his medicine in behalf of Sir Hugh 
 Robsart, added his desire to accompany him to court. This 
 was indeed what Tressilian himself had several times thought 
 of; for the shrewdness, alertness of understanding, and variety 
 of resource which this fellow had exhibited during the time 
 they had traveled together, had made him sensible that his 
 assistance might be of importance. But then Wayland was 
 in danger from the grasp of law; and of this Tressilian re- 
 minded him, mentioning something, at the same time, of the 
 pincers of Pinniewinks and the warrant of Master Justice 
 Blindas. Wayland Smith laughed both to scorn. 
 
KHmLWORTB, 18^ 
 
 '* See you sir! '' said he, " I have changed my garb from 
 that of a farrier to a serving-man; but were it still as it was, 
 look at my mustaehios; they now hang down, I will but turn 
 them up, and dye them with a tincture that I know of, and 
 the devil would scarce know me again/' 
 
 He accompanied these words with the appropriate action; 
 and in less than a minute, by setting up his mustachios and 
 his hair, he seemed a different person from him that had but 
 now entered the room. Still, however, Tressilian hesitated 
 to accept his services, and the artist became proportionably 
 urgent. 
 
 " I owe you life and limb," he said, " and I would fain pay 
 a part of the debt, especially as I know from Will Badger on 
 what dangerous service your worship is bound. I do not, in- 
 deed, pretend to be what is called a man of mettle — one of 
 those ruffling tear-cats, who maintain their master's quarrel 
 with sword and buckler. Nay, I am even one of those who 
 hold the end of a feast better than the beginning of a fray. 
 But I know that I can serve your worship better in such quest 
 as yours than any of these sword-and-dagger men, and that 
 my head will be worth an hundred of their hands." 
 
 Tressilian still hesftated. He knew not much of this 
 strange fellow, and was doubtful how far he could repose in 
 him the confidence necessary to render him an useful attend- 
 ant upon the present emergency. Ere he had come to a deter- 
 mination, the trampling of a horse was heard in the court- 
 yard and Master Mumblazen and Will Badger both entered 
 hastily into Tressilian's chamber, speaking almost at the same 
 moment. 
 
 " Here is a serving-man on the bonniest gray tit I ever see'd 
 in my life," said Will Badger, who got the start; — " having 
 on his arm a silver cognizance, being a fire-drake holding in 
 his mouth a brick-bat, under a coronet of an earl's degree,' 
 said Master Mumblazen, " and bearing a letter sealed of the 
 same." 
 
 Tressilian took the letter, which was addressed " To the 
 worshipful Master Edmund Tressilian, our loving kinsman — ■ 
 These — ride, ride, ride — for thy life, for thy life, for thy life." 
 He then opened it, and found the following contents: 
 
 *' Master Ti^essilian, our Good Friend and Cousin: 
 
 "We are at present so ill at ease, and otherwise so un- 
 happily circumstanced, that we are desirous to have around us 
 those of our friends on whose loving-kindness we can most 
 
140 WArsBUBT mtELS. 
 
 eepecially repose confidence; amongst whom we hold ouf good 
 Master Tressilian one of the foremost and nearest, both in 
 good will and good ability. We therefore pray yon, with 
 your most convenient speed, to repair to our poor lodging at 
 Say's Court, near Deptford, where we will treat farther with 
 you of matters which we deem it not fit to commit unto writ- 
 ing. And so we bid you heartily farewell, being your loving 
 kinsman to command. 
 
 "Ratcliffe, Earl of Sussex/' 
 
 " Send up the messenger instantly. Will Badger," said Tres- 
 silian; and as the man entered the room he exclaimed, " Ah, 
 Stevens, is it you? how does my good lord? " 
 
 " 111, Master Tressilian," was the messenger's reply, " and 
 having therefore the more need of good friends around, him." 
 
 " But what is my lord's malady? " said Tressilian anxiously. 
 " I heard nothing of his being ill." 
 
 " I know not, sir," replied the man; " he is very ill at ease. 
 The leeches are at a stand, and many of his household suspect 
 foul practice — witchcraft, or worse." 
 
 " What are the symptoms? " said Wayland Smith, stepping 
 forward hastily. 
 
 "Anan?" said the messenger, not comprehending his 
 meaning. 
 
 "What does he ail?" said Wayland; "where lies his dis- 
 ease?" 
 
 The man looked at Tressilian, as if to know whether he 
 should answer these inquiries from a stranger, and receiving 
 a sign in the affirmative, he hastily enumerated gradual loss 
 of strength, nocturnal perspiration, and loss of appetite, f aint- 
 ness, etc. 
 
 "Joined," said Wayland, "to a gnawing pain in the 
 gtomach, and a low fever? " 
 
 " Even so," said the messenger, somewhat surprised. 
 
 " I know how the disease is caused," said the artist, " and I 
 know the cause. Your master has eaten of the manna of St. 
 Nicholas. I know the cure too: my master shall not say I 
 studied in his laboratory for nothing." 
 
 "How mean you? " said Tressilian, frowning: " we speak of 
 one of the first nobles of England. Bethink you, this is no 
 subject for buffoonerv." 
 
 " God forbid! " said Wayland Smith. " I say that I know 
 his disease, and can cure him. Remember what I did for Sir 
 Hugh Robsaxt." 
 
KENILWORTH. 
 
 141 
 
 '• We will set forth instantly/' said Tressiiian. " God calls 
 us/' 
 
 Accordingly, hastily mentioning this new motive for his 
 instant departure, though without alluding to either the sus- 
 picions of Stevens or the assurances of Wayland Smith, he 
 took the kindest leave of Sir Hugh and the family at Lidcote 
 Hall, who accompanied him with prayers and blessings, and, 
 attended by "Wayland and the Earl of Sussex's domestic, trav- 
 eled with tiie utmost speed toward London. 
 
CHAPTER Xm. 
 
 Ay, I know you have arsenic, 
 Vitriol, sal-tartre, argaile, alkaly, 
 Ginoper : I know all. This fellow, Captain, 
 "Will come in time to be a great distiller, 
 And give a say, I will not say directly. 
 But very near, at the philosopher's stone. 
 
 —The Alchemist. 
 
 Teessilian and his attendants pressed their route with all 
 dispatch. He had asked the smith, indeed, when their de- 
 parture was resolved on, whether he would not rather choose 
 to avoid Berkshire, in which he had played a part so con- 
 spicuous? But Wayland returned a confident answer. He 
 had employed the short interval they passed at Lidcote Hall 
 in transforming himself in a wonderful manner. His wild 
 and overgrown thicket of heard was now restrained to two 
 small mustachios on the upper lip, turned up in a military 
 fashion. A tailor from the village of Lidcote (well paid) 
 had exerted his skill, under his customer's directions, so as 
 completely to alter Wayland's outward man, and take off from 
 his appearance almost twenty years of age. Formerly, be- 
 smeared with soot and charcoal, overgrown with hair, and 
 bent double with the nature of his labor, disfigured, too, by 
 his odd and fantastic dress, he seemed a man of fifty years old. 
 But now, in a handsome suit of Tressilian's livery, with a 
 sword by his side, and a buckler on his shoulder, he looked 
 like a gay ruffling serving-man, whose age might be betwixt 
 thirty and thirty-five, the very prime of human life. His 
 loutish, savage-looking demeanor seemed equally changed 
 into a forward, sharp, and impudent alertness of look and 
 action. 
 
 When challenged by Tressilian, who desired to know the 
 cause of a metamorphosis so singular and so absolute. Way- 
 land only answered by singing a stave from a comedy, which 
 was then new, and was supposed, among the more favorable 
 judges, to augur some genius on the part of the author. We 
 are happy to preserve the couplet, which ran exactly thus: 
 
 '* Ban — ban, Ca — Caliban ! 
 Get a new master ; be a new man." 
 
 Although Tressilian did not recollect the verses, yet they re- 
 minded him that Wayland had once been a stage-player, a cir- 
 
 14» 
 
KENILWORTH. 14S 
 
 cmnstance which, of itself, accounted indifferently well for 
 the readiness with which he could assume so total a change of 
 personal appearance. The artist himself was so confident of 
 his disguise being completely changed, or of his having com- 
 pletely changed his disguise, which may be the more correct 
 mode of speaking, that he regretted they were not to pass near 
 his old place of retreat. 
 
 " I could venture," he said, " in my present dress, and with 
 your worship's backing, to face Master Justice Blindas, even 
 on a day of quarter sessions; and I would like to know what is 
 become of Hobgoblin, who is like to play the devil in the 
 world, if he can once slip the string and leave his granny and 
 his dominie. Aye, and the scathed vault! ^' he said — " I 
 would willingly have seen what havoc the explosion of so 
 much gunpowder has made among Dr. Demetrius Doboobie's 
 retorts and vials. I warrant me, my fame haunts the Vale of 
 the Whitehorse long after my body is rotten; and that many 
 a lout ties up his horse, lays down his silver groat, and pipes 
 like a sailor whistling in a calm, for Wayland Smith to come 
 and shoe his tit for him. But the horse will catch the 
 founders ere the smith answers the call." 
 
 In this particular, indeed, Wayland proved a true prophet; 
 and so easily do fables rise, that an obscure tradition of his 
 extraordinary practice in farriery prevails in the Vale of 
 Whitehorse even unto this day; and neither the tradition of 
 Alfred's victory nor of the celebrated Pusey horn are better 
 preserved in Berkshire than the wild legend of Wayland 
 Smith.* 
 
 The haste of the travelers admitted their making no stay 
 upon their journey, save what the refreshment of the horses 
 required; and as many of the places through which they 
 passed were under the influence of the Earl of Leicester, or 
 persons immediately dependent on him, they thought it pru- 
 dent to disguise their names and the purpose of their journey. 
 On such occasions the agency of Wayland Smith (by which 
 name we shall continue to distinguish the artist, though his 
 real name was Lancelot Wayland) was extremely serviceable. 
 He seemed, indeed, to have a pleasure in displaying the alert- 
 ness with which he could baffle investigation, and amuse him- 
 self by putting the curiosity of tapsters and innkeepers on a 
 false scent. During the course of their brief journey, three 
 different and inconsistent reports were circulated by him on 
 their account; namely, first, that Tressilian was the Lord 
 
 ♦ See Note 4. 
 
144 WAVERLET NOVELS, 
 
 Deputy of Ireland, come over in disguise to take the Queen's 
 pleasure concerning the great rebel Rory Oge MacCarthy 
 MacMahon; secondly, that the said Tressilian was an agent of 
 Monsieur, coming to urge his suit to the hand of Elizabeth; 
 thirdly, that he was the Duke of Medina, come over, in- 
 cognito, to adjust the quarrel betwixt Philip and that princess. 
 
 Tressilian was angry and expostulated with the artist on 
 the various inconveniences, and, in particular, the unneces- 
 sary degree of attention, to which they were subjected by the 
 figments he thus circulated; but he was pacified (for who 
 could be proof against such an argument?) by Wayland's 
 assuring him that a general importance was attached to his 
 own (Tressilian's) striking presence, which rendered it neces- 
 sary to give an extraordinary reason for the rapidity and 
 secrecy of his journey. 
 
 At length they approached the metropolis, where, owing to 
 the more general recourse of strangers, their appearance ex- 
 cited neither observation nor inquiry, and finally they entered 
 London itself. 
 
 It was Tressilian's purpose to go down directly to Deptford, 
 where Lord Sussex resided, in order to be near the court, then 
 held at Greenwich, the favorite residence of Elizabeth, and 
 honored as her birthplace. Still, a brief halt in London was 
 necessary; and it was somewhat prolonged by the earnest 
 entreaties of Wayland Smith, who desired permission to take 
 a walk through the city. 
 
 " Take thy sword and buckler, and follow me, then,'' said 
 Tressilian; "I am about to walk myself, and we will go in 
 company." 
 
 This he said, because he was not altogether so secure of the 
 fidelity of his new retainer as to lose sight of him at this inter- 
 esting moment, when rival factions at the court of Elizabeth 
 were running so high. Wayland Smith willingly acquiesced 
 in the precaution, of which he probably conjectured the 
 motive, but only stipulated that his master should enter the 
 shops of such chemists or apothecaries as he should point out 
 in walking through Flett Street, and permit him to make some 
 necessary purchases. Tressilian agreed, and, obeying the sig- 
 nal of his attendant, walked successively into more than four 
 or five shops, where he observed that Wayland purchased in 
 each only one single drug, in various quantities. The medi- 
 cines which he first asked for were readily furnished, each in 
 succession, but those which he afterward required were 
 Jess easily supplied; and Tressilian observed that Wayland 
 
KBNILWORTH, 146 
 
 more than once, to the surprise of the shopkeeper, retumed 
 the gum or herh that was offered to him and compelled 
 him to exchange it for the right sort, or else went on to 
 seek it elsewhere. But one ingredient, in particular, seemed 
 almost impossible to he found. Some chemists plainly- 
 admitted they had never seen it, others denied that such a 
 drug existed excepting in the imagination of crazy 
 alchemists, and most of them attempted to satisfy their 
 customers by producing some substitute which when re- 
 jected by Way land as not being what he had asked for, they 
 maintained possessed, in a superior degree, the self-same 
 qualities. In general, they all displayed some curiosity con- 
 cerning the purpose for which he wanted it. One old meager 
 chemist, to whom the artist put the usual question, in terms 
 which Tressilian neither understood nor could recollect, an- 
 swered frankly, there was none of that drug in London, un- 
 less Yoglan the Jew chanced to have some of it upon hand. 
 
 " I thought as much," said Wayland. And as soon as they 
 left the shop, he said to Tressilian, " I crave your pardon, sir, 
 but no artist can work without his tools. I must needs go to 
 this Yoglan's; and I promise you that, if this detains you 
 longer than your leisure seems to permit, you shall, neverthe- 
 less, be well repaid by the use I will make of this rare drug. 
 Permit me," he added, " to walk before you, for we are now 
 to quit the broad street, and we will make double speed if 1 
 lead the way." 
 
 Tressilian acquiesced, and, following the smith down a lane 
 which turned to the left hand toward the river, he found that 
 his guide walked on with great speed, and apparently perfect 
 knowledge of the town, through a labyrinth of by-streets, 
 courts, and blind alleys, until at length Wayland paused in 
 the midst of a very narrow lane, the termination of which 
 showed a peep of the Thames looking misty and muddy, 
 which background was crossed saltier- ways as Mr. Mum- 
 blazen might have said, by the masts of two lighters that lay 
 waiting for the tide. The shop under which he halted had 
 not, as in modem days, a glazed window; but a paltry canvas 
 screen surrounded such a stall as a cobbler now occupies, hav- 
 ing the front open, much in the manner of a fishmonger's 
 booth of the present day. A little old smock-faced man, the 
 very reverse of a Jew in complexion, for he was very soft- 
 haired as well as beardless, appeared, and with many cour- 
 tesies asked Wayland what he pleased to want. He had no 
 sooner named the drug than the Jew started and looked sur- 
 
146 WAYEBLET NOVELS. 
 
 prised. ^^And vat might your vorship vant vith that drug, 
 which is not named, mein God, in forty years as I have been 
 chemist here?" 
 
 " These questions it is no part of my commission to an- 
 swer," said Way land; " I only wish to know if you have what 
 I want, and having it, are willing to sell it? " 
 
 " Aye, mein God, for having it, that I have, and for selling 
 it, I am a chemist, and sell every drug." So saying, he ex- 
 hibited a powder, and then continued, " But it will cost much 
 moneys. Vat I ^ave cost its weight in gold — aye, gold well- 
 refined — I vill say six times. It comes from Mount Sinai, 
 where we had our blessed Law given forth, and the plant 
 blossoms but once in one hundred year," 
 
 " I do not know how often it is gathered on Mount Sinai," 
 said Wayland, after looking at the drug offered him with great 
 disdain, " but I will wager my sword and buckler against your 
 gaberdine that this trash you offer me, instead of what I 
 asked for, may be had for gathering any day of the week in 
 the castle ditch of Aleppo." 
 
 " You are a rude man," said the Jew; " and, besides, I 'ave 
 no better than that; or, if I 'ave, I will not sell it without 
 order of a physician, or without you tell me vat you make 
 of it." • 
 
 The artist made brief answer in a language of which Tres- 
 silian could not understand a word, and which seemed to 
 strike the Jew with the utmost astonishment. He stared 
 upon Wayland like one who has suddenly recognized some 
 mighty hero or dreaded potentate in the person of an un- 
 known and unmarked stranger. " Holy Elias! " he ex- 
 claimed, when he had recovered the first stunning effects of 
 his surprise; and then, passing from his former suspicious and 
 surly manner to the very extremity of obsequiousness, he 
 cringed low to the artist, and besought him to enter his poor 
 house, to bless his miserable threshold by crossing it. 
 
 " Vill you not taste a cup vith the poor Jew, Zacharias 
 Yoglan? Vill you Tokay 'ave? — vill you Lachrymae taste? — 
 vill you " 
 
 " You offend in your proffers," said Wayland; " minister to 
 me in what I require of you, and forbear further discourse." 
 
 The rebuked Israelite took his bunch of keys, and opening 
 with circumspection a cabinet which seemed more strongly 
 secured than the other cases of drugs and medicines amongst 
 which it stood, he drew out a little secret drawer, having a 
 glass Hd, and containing a small portion of a black powder. 
 
KENILWOBTK 
 
 147 
 
 This he offered to Wayland, his manner conveying the deep- 
 est devotion toward him, though an avaricious and jealous 
 expression, which seemed to grudge every grain of what his 
 customer was about to possess himself, disputed ground in his 
 countenance with the obsequious deference which he desired 
 it should exhibit. 
 
 " Have you scales? " said Wayland. 
 
 The Jew pointed to those which lay ready for common use 
 in the shop, but he did so with a puzzled expression of doubt 
 and fear which did not escape the artist. 
 
 " They must be other than these," said Wayland sternly; 
 " know you not that holy things lose their virtue if weighed 
 in an unjust balance ? " 
 
 The Jew hung his head, took from a steel-plated casket a 
 pair of scales beautifully mounted, and said, as he adjusted 
 them for the artistes use — " With these I do mine own experi- 
 ment; one hair of the high-priest's beard would turn them." 
 
 "It suffices," said the artist; and weighed out two drams 
 for himself of the black powder, which he very carefully 
 folded up and put into his pouch with the other drugs. He 
 then demanded the price of the Jew, who answered, shaking 
 his head and bowing: 
 
 " No price — no, nothing at all from sucli as you. But you 
 will see the poor Jew again? — you will look into his labora- 
 tory, where, God help him, he hath dried himself to the sub- 
 stance of the withered gourd of Jonah, the holy prophet? 
 You vill 'ave pity on him, and show him one little step on the 
 great road?" 
 
 "Hush! " said Wayland, laying his finger mysteriously on 
 his mouth, " it may be we shall meet again: thou hast already 
 the ' schahmajm,' as thine own rabbis call it — the general 
 creafion; watch, therefore, and pray, for thou must attain the 
 knowledge of Alchahest Elixir Samech ere I may commune 
 farther with thee." Then returning with a slight nod the 
 reverential congees of the Jew, he walked gravely up the lane, 
 followed by his master, whose first observation on the scene 
 he had just witnessed was, that Wayland ought to have paid 
 the man for his drug, whatever it was. 
 
 ''I pay him!" said the artist. "May the foul fiend pay 
 me if I do! Had it not been that I thought it might displease 
 your worship, I would have had an ounce or two of gold out 
 of him, in exchange of the same just weight of brick-dust." 
 
 "I advise you to practice no such knavery while waiting 
 upon me," said Tressilian., 
 
148 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 " Did I nat say," answered the artist, " that for that reason 
 alone I forbore him for the present? Knavery, call you it? 
 Why, yonder wretched skeleton hath wealth sufficient to pave 
 the whole lane he lives in with dollars, and scarce miss them 
 out of his own iron chest; yet he goes mad after the phi- 
 losopher's stone; and, besides, he would have cheated a poor 
 serving-man, as he thought me at first, with trash that was 
 not worth a penny. * Match for match,' quoth the devil to 
 the collier: if his false medicine was worth my good crowns, 
 my true brick-dust is as well worth his good gold." 
 
 " It may be so for aught I know," said Tressilian, " in deal- 
 ing amongst Jews and apothecaries; but understand that to 
 have such tricks of legerdemain practiced by one attending 
 on me diminishes my honor, and that I will not permit them. 
 I trust thou hast made up thy purchases? " 
 
 " I have, sir," replied Wayland; " and with these drugs will 
 I, this very day, compound the true orvietan,* that noble 
 medicine which is so seldom found genuine and effective 
 within these realms of Europe, for want of that most rare 
 and precious drug which I got but now from Yoglan." 
 
 " But why not have made all your purchases at one shop ? " 
 said his master; " we have lost nearly an hour in running 
 from one pounder of simples to another." 
 
 " Content you, sir," said Wayland. " No man shall leam 
 my secret; and it would not be mine long were I to buy all my 
 materials from one chemist." 
 
 They now returned to their inn, the famous Bell-Savage, 
 and while the Lord Sussex's servant prepared the horses for 
 their journey, Wayland, obtaining from the cook the service 
 of a mortar, shut himself up in a private chamber, where he 
 mixed, pounded, and amalgamated the drugs which he had 
 bought, each in its due proportion, with a readiness and ad- 
 dress that plainly showed him well practiced in all the manual 
 operations of pharmacy. 
 
 By the time Wayland's electuary was prepared the horses 
 were ready, and a short hour's riding brought them to the 
 present habitation of Lord Sussex, an ancient house called 
 Say's Court,t near Deptford, which had long pertained 
 to a family of that name, but had for upwards of a century 
 been possessed by the ancient and honorable family of 
 Evelyn. The present representative of that ancient house 
 
 • See Note 5. 
 
 t The court has now entirely diiuppeiired, imd Iti fit© i9 occupied by a workhonae-^ 
 Laing. 
 
KENILWORTH, 149 
 
 i'o:ik a deep interest in the Earl of Sussex, and had willingly 
 accommodated both him and his numerous retinue in his hos- 
 pitable mansion. Say's Court was afterward the residence of 
 the celebrated Mr. Evelyn,* whose " Silva " is still the 
 manual of British planters; and whose life, manners, and 
 principles, as illustrated in his " Memoirs," ought equally to 
 be the manual of English gentlemen. 
 
 ♦Evelyn'? name has also become familiar throusrh his Memoirs, comprising a Diary 
 from 1641 to 1705, and a Selection of Familiar Letters, published from hia MSS., dii- 
 oovered at Say'i Court in 19>\%.—Laing. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 This is rare news thou tell'st me, my good fellow ;. 
 There are two bulls fierce battling on the green 
 For one fair heifer ; if the one goes down, 
 The dale will be more peaceful, and the herd, 
 Which have small interest in their brulziement, 
 May pasture there in peace. 
 
 —Old Flay. 
 
 Say's Coukt was watched like a beleaguered fort; and so 
 high rose the suspicions of the time, that Tressilian and his 
 attendants were stopped and questioned repeatedly by senti- 
 nels, both on foot and horseback, as they approached the 
 abode of the sick earl. In truth, the high rank which Sussex 
 held in Queen Elizabeth's favor, and his known and avowed 
 rivalry of the Earl of Leicester, caused the utmost impor- 
 tance to be attached to his welfare; for, at the period we treat 
 of, all men doubted whether he or the Earl of Leicester 
 might ultimately have the higher rank in her regard. 
 
 Elizabeth, like many of her sex, was fond of governing by 
 factions, so as to balance two opposing interests, and reserve 
 in her own hand the power of making either predominate, as 
 the interest of the state, or perhaps as her own female caprice, 
 for to that foible even she was not superior, might finally 
 determine. To finesse, to hold the cards, to oppose one 
 interest to another, to bridle him who thought himself highest 
 in her esteem by the fears he must entertain of another 
 equally trusted, if not equally beloved, were arts which she 
 used throughout her reign, and which enabled her, though 
 frequently giving way to the weakness of favoritism, to pre- 
 vent most of its evil effects on her kingdom and government. 
 
 The two nobles who at present stood as rivals in her favor 
 possessed very different pretensions to share it; yet it might 
 be in general said that the Earl of Sussex had been most serv- 
 iceable to the queen, while Leicester was most dear to the 
 woman. Sussex was, according to the phrase of the times, a 
 martialist: had done good service in Ireland and in Scotland, 
 and especially in the great northern rebellion, in 1569, which 
 was quelled, in a great measure, by his military talents. He 
 was, therefore, naturally surrounded and looked up to by 
 those who wished to make arms their road to distinction. 
 
 160 
 
 I 
 
EEmLWORTE. 151 
 
 The Earl of Sussex, moreover, was of more ancient and hon- 
 orable descent than his rival, uniting in his person the repre- 
 sentation of the Fitz- Walters, as well as of the Katcliffes, 
 while the scutcheon of Leicester was stained by the degrada- 
 tion of his grandfather, the oppressive minister of Henry 
 VII., and scarce improved by that of his father, the unhappy 
 Dudley, Duke of Northumberland, executed on Tower Hill, 
 August 22, 1553. But in person, features, and address, 
 weapons so formidable in the court of a female sovereign, 
 Leicester had advantages more than sufficient to counter- 
 balance the military services, high blood, and frank bearing 
 of the Earl of Sussex; and he bore in the eye of the court and 
 kingdom the higher share in Elizabeth's favor, though (for 
 such was her uniform policy) by no means so decidedly ex- 
 pressed as to warrant him against the final preponderance of 
 his rival's pretensions. The illness of Sussex therefore hap- 
 pened so opportunely for Leicester as to give rise to strange 
 surmises among the public; while the followers of the one earl 
 were filled with the deepest apprehensions, and those of the 
 other with the highest hopes of its probable issue. Mean- 
 while — for in that old time men never forgot the probability 
 that the matter might be determined by length of sword — the 
 retainers of each noble flocked around their patron, appeared 
 well armed in the vicinity of the court itself, and disturbed 
 the ear of the sovereign by their frequent and alarming de- 
 bates, held even within the precincts of her palace. This 
 preliminary statement is necessary to render what follows in- 
 telligible to the reader.* 
 
 On Tressilian's arrival at Say's Court, he found the place 
 filled with the retainers of the Earl of Sussex, and of the gen- 
 tlemen who came to attend their patron in his illness. Arms 
 were in every hand, and a deep gloom on every countenance, 
 as if they had apprehended an immediate and violent assault 
 from the opposite faction. In the hall, however, to which 
 Tressilian was ushered by one of the earl's attendants, while 
 another went to inform Sussex of his arrival, he found only 
 two gentlemen in waiting. There was a remarkable contrast 
 in their dress, appearance, and manners. The attire of the 
 elder gentleman, a person, as it seemed, of quality, and in the 
 prime of life, was very plain and soldierlike, his stature low, 
 his limbs stout, his bearing ungraceful, and his features of 
 that kind which express sound common sense, without a grain 
 of vivacity or imagination. The younger, who seemed about 
 
 * See Leicester and SuBsex. Note 6. 
 
1«3 WA VEBLET NO VEL8. 
 
 twenty or upward, was clad in the gayest habit used by per- 
 sons of quality at the period, wearing a crimson velvet cloak 
 richly ornamented with lace and embroidery, with a bonnet 
 of the same, encircled with a gold chain turned three times 
 round it and secured by a medal. His hair was adjusted very 
 nearly like that of some fine gentleman of our own time — that 
 is, it was combed upward, and made to stand as it were on 
 end; and in his ears he wore a pair of silver earrings, having 
 each a pearl of considerable size. The countenance of this 
 youth, besides being regularly handsome and accompanied by 
 a fine person, was animated and striking in a degree that 
 seemed to speak at once the firmness of a decided and the fire 
 of an enterprising character, the power of reflection and the 
 promptitude of determination. 
 
 Both these gentlemen reclined nearly in the same posture 
 on benches near each other; but each seeming engaged in his 
 own meditations, looked straight upon the wall which was 
 opposite to them, without speaking to his companion. The 
 looks of the elder were of that sort which convinced the be- 
 holder that, in looking on the wall, he saw no more than the 
 side of an old hall hung around with cloaks, antlers, bucklers, 
 old pieces of armor, partizans, and the similar articles which 
 were usually the furniture of such a place. The look of the 
 younger gallant had in it something imaginative; he was sunk 
 in reverie, and it seemed as if the empty space of air betwixt 
 him and the wall were the stage of a theater on which his 
 fancy was mustering his own " dramatis personae," and treat- 
 ing him with sights far different from those which his awak- 
 ened and earthly vision could have offered. 
 
 At the entrance of Tressilian both started from their mus- 
 ing and bade him welcome; the younger, in particular, with 
 great appearance of animation and cordiality. 
 
 " Thou art welcome, Tressilian,'^ said the youth; " thy 
 philosophy stole thee from us when this household had ob- 
 jects of ambition to offer: it is an honest philosophy, since 
 it returns thee to us when there are only dangers to be 
 shared.'' 
 
 " Is my lord, then, so greatly indisposed ? " said Tressilian. 
 
 " We fear the very worst," answered the elder gentleman, 
 *' and by the worst practice." 
 
 " Fy! " replied Tressilian, " my Lord of Leicester is hon- 
 orable." 
 
 "What doth he with such attendants, then, as he hath 
 about him? " said the younger gallant. " Tie man who 
 
KENILWORTH. 153 
 
 mises the devil may be honest, but he is answerable for the 
 mischief which the fiend does, for all that." 
 
 "And is this all of you, my mates," inquired Treseilian, 
 " that are about my lord in his utmost straits? " 
 
 " No — no," replied the elder gentleman, " there are Tracy, 
 Markham, and several more; but we keep watch here by two 
 at once, and some are weary and are sleeping in the gallery 
 above." 
 
 " And some," said the young man, " are gone down to the 
 dock yonder at Deptford, to look out such a hulk as they may 
 purchase by clubbing their broken fortunes; and so soon as 
 all is over we will lay our noble lord in a noble green grave, 
 have a blow at those who have hurried him thither, if oppor- 
 tunity suits, and then sail for the Indies with heavy hearts 
 and light purses." 
 
 " It may be," said Tressilian, " that I will embrace the same 
 purpose, so soon as I have settled some business at court." 
 
 " Thou business at court! " they both exclaimed at once; 
 "and thou make the Indian voyage! " 
 
 " Why, Tressilian," said the younger man, " art thou not 
 wedded, and beyond these flaws of fortune that drive folks 
 out to sea when their bark bears fairest for the haven? What 
 has become of the lovely Indamira that was to match my 
 Amoret for truth and beauty? " 
 
 " Speak not of her! " said Tressilian, averting his face. 
 
 "Aye, stands it so with you?" said the youth, taking his 
 hand very affectionately; " then, fear not I will again touch 
 the green wound. But it is strange as well as sad news. Are 
 none of our fair and merry fellowship to escape shipwreck of 
 fortune and happiness in this sudden tempest? I had hoped 
 thou wert in harbor, at least, my dear Edmund. But truly 
 says another dear friend of thy name: 
 
 '• What man that sees the ever whirling wheel 
 Of change, the which all mortal things doth swaj, 
 But that thereby doth find and plainly feel, 
 How mutability in them doth play 
 Her cruel sports to many men^s decay." 
 
 The elder gentleman had risen from his bench, and wa« 
 pacing the hall with some impatience, while the youth, with 
 much earnestness and feeling, recited these lines. When he 
 had done, the other wrapped himself in his cloak, and again 
 stretched himself down, saying, "I marvel, Tressilian, you 
 will feed the lad in this silly humor. If there were aught to 
 draw a judgment upon a virtuous and honorable household 
 
1^4 WAVmL^T mtBL^. 
 
 Kke my lord's, renounce me if I think not it were this piping, 
 whining, childish trick of poetry, that came among us with 
 Master Walter Wittypate here and his comrades, twisting into 
 all manner of uncouth and incomprehensible forms of speech 
 the honest, plain English phrase which God gave us to ex- 
 press our meaning withal." 
 
 " Blount believes," said his comrade, laughing, ^' the devil 
 woo'd Eve in rhyme, and that the mystic meaning of the Tree 
 of Knowledge refers solely to the art of clashing rhymes and 
 meting out hexameters." * 
 
 At this moment the earl's chamberlain entered, and in- 
 formed Tressilian that his lord required to speak with him. 
 
 He found Lord Sussex dressed, but unbraced and lying on 
 his couch, and was shocked at the alteration disease had made 
 in his person. The earl received him with the most friendly 
 cordiality, and inquired into the state of his courtship. Tres- 
 silian evaded his inquiries for a moment, and turning his dis- 
 course on the earl's own health, he discovered, to his surprise, 
 that the symptoms of his disorder corresponded minutely with 
 those which Wayland had predicted concerning it. He hesi- 
 tated not, therefore, to communicate to Sussex the whole his- 
 tory of his attendant, and the pretensions he set up to cure 
 the disorder under which he labored. The earl listened with 
 incredulous attention until the name of Demetrius was men- 
 tioned, and then suddenly called to his secretary to bring him 
 a certain casket which contained papers of importance. 
 " Take out from thence," he said, " the declaration of the 
 rascal cook whom we had under examination, and look heed- 
 fully if the name of Demetrius be not there mentioned." 
 
 The secretary turned to the passage at once, and read, 
 " And said declarant, being examined, saith. That he remem- 
 bers having made the sauce to the said sturgeon-fish, after 
 eating of which the said noble lord was taken ill; and he put 
 the usual ingredients and condiments therein, namely " 
 
 " Pass over his trash," said the earl, " and see whether he 
 had not been supplied with his materials by a herbalist called 
 Demetrius." 
 
 "It is even so," answered the secretary. "And he adds, 
 lie hath not since seen the said Demetrius." 
 
 " This accords with thy fellow's story, Tressilian," said the 
 earl; " call him hither." 
 
 On being summoned to the earl's presence, Wayland Smith 
 told his former tale with firmness and consistency. 
 
 ♦ See Sir Walter Raleigh. Note 7. 
 
KENILWORTH. 156 
 
 •* It may be," said the earl, '^ thou art sent by those who 
 have begun this work, to end it for them; but bethink, if I 
 miscairy under thy medicine, it may go hard with thee." 
 
 " That were severe measure," said Wayland, " since the 
 issue of medicine, and the end of Hfe, are in G-od^s disposal. 
 But I will stand the risk. I have not lived so long under 
 ground to be afraid of a grave." 
 
 " Nay, if thou be'st so confident," said the Earl of Sussex, 
 " I will take the risk too, for the learned can do nothing for 
 me. Tell me how this medicine is to be taken." 
 
 " That will I do presently," said Wayland; " but allow me 
 to condition that, since I incur all the risk of this treatment, 
 no other physician shall be permitted to interfere with it." 
 
 " That is but fair," replied the earl; " and now prepare 
 your drug.^' 
 
 While Wayland obeyed the earPs commands, his servants, 
 by the artist's direction, undressed their master and placed 
 him in bed. 
 
 " I warn you," he said, '^ that the first operation of, this 
 medicine will be to produce a heavy sleep, during which time 
 the chamber must be kept undisturbed, as the consequences 
 may otherwise be fatal. I myself will watch by the earl, with 
 any of the gentlemen of his chamber." 
 
 " Let all leave the room save Stanley and this good fellow," 
 8aid the earl. 
 
 *' And saving me also," said Tressilian. " I too am deeply 
 interested in the effects of this potion." 
 
 " Be it so, good friend," said the earl; " and now for 
 our experiment; but first call my secretary and chamber- 
 lain." 
 
 **Bear witness," he continued, when these officers 
 arrived — " bear witness for me, gentlemen, that our honorable 
 friend Tressilian is in no way responsible for the effects which 
 this medicine may produce upon me, the taking it being my 
 own free action and choice, in regard 1 believe it tO' be a 
 remedy which God has furnished me by unexpected means to 
 recover me of my present malady. Commend me to my noble 
 and princely mistress; and say that I live and die her true 
 servant, and wish to all about her throne the same singleness 
 of heart and will to serve her, with more ability to do so than 
 hath been assigned to poor Thomas Ratcliffe." 
 
 He then folded his hands, and seemed for a second or two 
 absorbed in mental devotion, then took the potion in his 
 hand, and, pausing, regarded Wayland with a look that seemed 
 
156 WA VERLEY NO VELS. 
 
 designed to penetrate his very soul, but which caused no anx- 
 iety or hesitation in the countenance or manner of the artist. 
 
 " Here is nothing to be feared," said Sussex to Tressilian 
 and swallowed the medicine without farther hesitation. 
 
 " I am now to pray your lordship," said Wayland, " to dis- 
 pose yourself to rest as commodiously as you can; and of you, 
 gentlemen, to remain as still and mute as if you waited at 
 your mother's death-bed." 
 
 The chamberlain and secretary then withdrew, giving 
 orders that all doors should be bolted, and all noise in the 
 house strictly prohibited. Several gentlemen were voluntary 
 watchers in the hall, but none remained in the chamber of the 
 sick earl, save his groom of the chamber, the artist, and Tres- 
 silian. Wayland Smith's predictions were speedily accom- 
 plished, and a sleep fell upon the earl so deep and sound that 
 they who watched his bedside began to fear that, in his weak- 
 ened state, he might pass away without awakening from his 
 lethargy. Wayland Smith himself appeared anxious, and 
 felt the temples of the earl slightly from time to time, attend- 
 ing particularly to the state of his respiration, which was full 
 and deep, but at the same time easy and uninterrupted. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 You loggerheaded and unpolish'd groomi, 
 What, no attendance, no regard, no duty ? 
 Where is the f oohsh knave I sent before ? 
 
 — Taming of (he l^wew. 
 
 Theke is no period at which men look worse in the eyee of 
 each other, or feel more uncomfortable, than when the first 
 dawn of daylight finds them watchers. Even a beauty of the 
 first order, after the vigils of a ball are interrupted by the 
 dawn, would do wisely to withdraw herself from the gaze of 
 her fondest and most partial admirers. Such was the pale, 
 inauspicious, and ungrateful light which began to beam upon 
 those who kept watch all night in the hall at Say^s Court, and 
 which mingled its cold, pale, blue diffusion with the red, yel- 
 low, and smoky beams of expiring lamps and torches. The 
 young gallant whom we noticed in our last chapter had left 
 the room for a few minutes, to learn the cause of a knocking 
 at the outward gate, and on his return was so struck with the 
 forlorn and ghastly aspects of his companions of the watch, 
 that he exclaimed, " Pity of my heart, my masters, how like 
 owls you look! Methinks, when the sun rises, I shall see you 
 flutter off with your eyes dazzled, to stick yourselves into the 
 next ivy-tod or ruined steeple." 
 
 "Hold thy peace, thou gibing fool," said Blount — "hold 
 thy peace. Is this a time for jeering, when the manhood of 
 England is perchance dying within a wall's breadth of thee? " 
 
 " There thou liest," replied the gallant. 
 
 "How, lie! " exclaimed Blount, starting up — "lie! and to 
 me?" 
 
 "Why, so thou didst, thou peevish fool," answered the 
 youth; " thou didst lie on that bench even now, didst thou 
 not? But art thou not a hasty coxcomb, to pick up a wry 
 word so wrathfully? Nevertheless, loving and honoring my 
 lord as truly as thou, or anyone, I do say that, should Heaven 
 take him from us, all England's manhood dies not with him." 
 
 " Aye," replied Blount, " a good portion will survive 
 with thee, doubtless." 
 
 " And a good portion with thyself, Blount, and with stout 
 Markham here, and Tracy, and all of us. But I am he will 
 best employ the talent Heaven has given to us all." 
 
1«8 WAVERLET NOVELS, 
 
 " As how, I prithee? " said Blount; " tell us your mystery 
 of multiplying/' 
 
 " Why, sirs," answered the youth, " ye are like goodly land, 
 which bears no crop because it is not quickened by manure; 
 but I have that rising spirit in me which will make my poor 
 faculties labor to keep pace with it. My ambition will keep 
 my brain at work, I warrant thee." 
 
 ^' I pray to God it does not drive thee mad," said Blount; 
 " for my part, if we lose our noble lord, I bid adieu to the 
 court and to the camp both. I have five hundred foul acres 
 in Norfolk, and thither will I, and change the court pantoufle 
 for the country hobnail." 
 
 *^ Oh, base transmutation! " exclaimed his antagonist; 
 " thou hast already got the true rustic slouch: thy shoulders 
 stoop, as if thine hands were at the stilts of the plow, and 
 thou hast a kind of earthy smell about thee, instead of being 
 perfumed with essence, as a gallant and courtier should. On 
 my soul, thou hast stolen out to roll thyself on a hay mow! 
 Thy only excuse will be to swear by thy hilts that the farmer 
 had a fair daughter." 
 
 " I pray thee, Walter," said another of the company, "cease 
 thy raillery, which suits neither time nor place, and tell us 
 who was at the gate just now." 
 
 " Dr. Masters, physician to her Grace in ordinary, sent by 
 her especial orders to inquire after the earl's health," an- 
 swered Walter. 
 
 "Ha! what! " exclaimed Tracy, "that was no slight mark 
 of favor; if the earl can but come through, he will match with 
 Leicester yet. Is Masters with my lord at present? " 
 
 " Nay," replied Walter, " he is halfway back to Greenwich 
 by this time, and in high dudgeon." 
 
 "Thou didst not refuse him admittance?" exclaimed Tracy. 
 
 " Thou wert not, surely, so mad? " ejaculated Blount. 
 
 "I refused him admittance as flatly, Blount, as you would 
 refuse a penny to a blind beggar; as obstinately, Tracy, as 
 thou didst ever deny access to a dun." 
 
 " Why, in the fiend's name, didst thou trust him to go to 
 the gate? " said Blount to Tracy. 
 
 "It suited his years better than mine," answered Tracy; 
 "but he has undone us all now thoroughly. My lord may 
 live or die, he will never have a look of favor from her Majesty 
 again." 
 
 " Nor the means of making fortunes for his followers,'^ 
 said the young gallant, smiling contemptuously; "there Ues 
 
EBNILWORTJS. I6d 
 
 the sore point that will brook no handling. My good sirs, I 
 sounded my lamentations over my lord somewhat less loudly 
 than some of you; but when the point comes of doing him 
 service, I will yield to none of you. Had this learned leech 
 entered, thinkst thou not there had been such a coil betwixt 
 him and Tressilian^s mediciner that not the sleeper only, bat 
 the very dead, might have awakened? I know what larum 
 belongs to the discord of doctors.^' 
 
 ^' And who is to take the blame of opposing the Queen's 
 orders?" said Tracy; "for, undeniably. Dr. Masters came 
 with her Grace's positive commands to cure the earl." 
 
 " I, who have done the wrong, will bear the blame," said 
 Walter. 
 
 " Thus, then, off fly the dreams of court favor thou hast 
 nourished," said Blount; " and despite all thy boasted art and 
 ambition, Devonshire will see thee shine a true younger 
 brother, fit to sit low at the board, carve turn-about with the 
 chaplain, look that the hounds be fed, and see the squire*s 
 girths drawn when he goes a-hunting." 
 
 " Not so," said the young man, coloring, " not while Ire- 
 land and the Netherlands have wars, and not while the sea 
 hath pathless waves. The rich West hath lands undreamed 
 of, and Britain contains bold hearts to venture on the quest 
 of them. Adieu for a space, my masters. I go to walk in 
 the court and look to the sentinels." 
 
 " The lad hath quicksilver in his veins, that is certain," 
 said Blount, looking at Markham. 
 
 " He hath that both in brain and blood," said Markham, 
 "which may either make or mar him. But, in closing the 
 door against Masters, he hath done a daring and loving piece 
 of service; for Tressilian's fellow hath ever averred that to 
 wake the earl were death, and Masters would wake the Seven 
 Sleepers themselves,. if he thought they slept not by the regu- 
 lar ordinance of medicine." 
 
 Morning was well advanced, when Tressilian, fatigued and 
 over-watched, came down to the hall with the joyful intelli- 
 gence that the earl had awakened of himself, that he found 
 his internal complaints much mitigated, and spoke with a 
 cheerfulness, and looked round with a vivacity, which of 
 themselves showed a material and favorable change had taken 
 place. Tressilian at the same time commanded the attend- 
 ance of one or two of his followers, to report what had 
 passed during the night, and to relieve the watchers in the 
 earl's chamber. 
 
ICO WAVEBLET NOVELS. 
 
 When the message of the Queen was communicated to the 
 Earl of Sussex, he at first smiled at the repulse which the 
 physician had received from his zealous young follower, but 
 instantly recollecting himself, he commanded Blount, his 
 master of the horse, instantly to take boat and go down the 
 river to the Palace of Greenwich, taking young Walter and 
 Tracy with him, and make a suitable compliment, expressing 
 his grateful thanks to his sovereign, and mentioning the 
 cause why he had not been enabled to profit by the assistance 
 of the wise and learned Dr. Masters. 
 
 " A plague on it," said Blount, as he descended the stairs. 
 '^ had he sent me with a cartel to Leicester, I think I should 
 have done his errand indifferently well. But to go to our 
 gracious sovereign, before whom all words must be lacquered 
 over either with gilding or with sugar, is such a confectionery 
 matter as clean baffles my poor old English brain. Come 
 with me, Tracy; and come you too. Master Walter Wittypate, 
 that art the cause of our having all this ado. Let us see if 
 thy neat brain, that frames so many flashy fireworks, can 
 help out a plain fellow at need with some of thy shrewd 
 devices." 
 
 " Never fear — never fear," exclaimed the youth, " it is I 
 will help you through; let me but fetch my cloak." 
 
 " Why, thou hast it on thy shoulders," said Blount: " the 
 lad is mazed." 
 
 " No, no, this is Tracy's old mantle," answered Walter; " I 
 go not with thee to court unless as a gentleman should." 
 
 " Why," said Blount, " thy braveries are like to dazzle the 
 eyes of none but some poor groom or porter." 
 
 '^ I know that," said the youth; " but I am resolved I will 
 have my own cloak — aye, and brush my doublet to boot — ere 
 I stir forth with you." 
 
 " Well — well," said Blount, " here is a coil about a doublet 
 and a cloak; get thyself ready, a' God's name! " 
 
 They were soon launched on the princely bosom of the 
 broad Thames, upon which the sun now shone forth in all its 
 splendor. 
 
 " There are two things scarce matched in the universe," 
 said Walter to Blount — " the sun in heaven, and the Thames 
 on the earth." 
 
 " The one will light us to Greenwich well enough," said 
 Blount, " and the other would take us there a little faster if it 
 were ebb tide." 
 
 " And this is all thou think'st — ^all thou carest — all thou 
 
KENILWORTH. 161 
 
 deem'st the use of the king of elements and the king of rivers, 
 to guide three such poor caitiffs as thyself, and me, and Trac^ 
 upon an idle journey of courtly ceremony! " 
 
 "It is no errand of my seeking, faith," replied Blount. 
 " and I could excuse hoth the sun and the Thames the trouble 
 of carrying me where I have no great mind to go, and where ] 
 expect but dog^s wages for my trouble; and by my honor," h< 
 added, looking out from the head of the boat, " it seems to me 
 as if our message were a sort of labor in vain; for see, the 
 Queen's barge lies at the stairs, as if her Majesty were about 
 to take water." 
 
 It was even so. The royal barge, manned with the Queen's 
 watermen, richly attired in the regal liveries, and having the 
 banner of England displayed, did indeed lie at the great stairs 
 which ascended from the river, and along with it two or three 
 other boats for transporting such part of her retinue as were 
 not in immediate attendance on the royal person. The yeo- 
 men of the guard, the tallest and most handsome men whom 
 England could produce, guarded with their halberds the pas- 
 sage from the palace gate to the river-side, and all seemed in 
 readiness for the Queen's coming forth, although the day was 
 yet so early. 
 
 " By my faith, this bodes us no good," said Blount: " it 
 must be some perilous cause puts her Grace in piotion thus 
 untimeously. By my counsel, we were best put back again, 
 and tell the earl what we have seen." 
 
 "Tell the earl what we have seen!" said Walter; "why, 
 what have we seen but a boat, and men with scarlet jerkins, 
 and halberds in their hands? Let us do his errand, and tell 
 him what the Queen says in reply." 
 
 So saying, he caused the boat to be pulled toward a landing- 
 place at some distance from the principal one, which it would 
 not, at that moment, have been thought respectful to ap- 
 proach, and jumped on shore, followed, though with reluct- 
 ance, by his cautious and timid companions. As they 
 approached the gate of the palace, one of the sergeant porters 
 told them they could not at present enter, as her Majesty was 
 in the act of coming forth. The gentlemen used the name of 
 the Earl of Sussex; but it proved no charm to subdue the 
 officer, who alleged in reply, that it was as much as his post 
 was worth to disobey in the least tittle the commands which 
 he had received. 
 
 " Nay, I told you as much before," said Blount; "do, I pray 
 you, my dear Walter, let us take boat and return." 
 
l«a WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 *' ITot till I see the Queen come forth," returned the youthj 
 composedly. 
 
 " Thou art mad — stark mad, by the mass! " answered 
 Blount. 
 
 " And thou/' said Walter, " art turned coward of the sud- 
 den. I have seen thee face half a score of shag-headed Irish 
 kernes to thy own share of them, and now thou wouldst blink 
 and go back to shun the frown of a fair lady! '' 
 
 At this moment the gates opened, and ushers began to issue 
 forth in array, preceded and flanked by the band of gentle- 
 men pensioners. After this, amid a crowd of lords and ladies, 
 yet so disposed around her that she could see and be seen on 
 all sides, came Elizabeth herself, then in the prime of woman- 
 hood, and in the full glow of what in a sovereign was called 
 beauty, and who would in the lowest rank of life have been 
 truly judged a noble figure, joined to a striking and com- 
 manding physiognomy. She leant on the arm of Lord Huns- 
 don, whose relation to her by her mother's side often 
 procured him such distinguished marks of Elizabeth's 
 intimacy. 
 
 The young cavalier we have so often mentioned had prob- 
 ably never yet approached so near the person of his sovereign, 
 and he pressed forward as far as the line of warders permitted, 
 in order to avail himself of the present opportunity. His 
 companion, on the contrary, cursing his imprudence, kept 
 pulling him backward, till Walter shook him off impatiently, 
 and letting his rich cloak drop carelessly from one shoulder — 
 a natural action, which served, however, to display to the 
 best advantage his well-proportioned person — unbonneting 
 at the same time he fixed his eager gaze on the Queen's ap- 
 proach with a mixture of respectful curiosity and modest yet 
 ardent admiration, which suited so well with his fine features, 
 that the warders, struck with his rich attire and noble counte- 
 nance, suffered him to approach the ground over which the 
 Queen was to pass ^somewhat closer than was permitted to 
 ordinary spectators. Thus the adventurous youth stood full 
 in Elizabeth's eye — an eye never indifferent to the admira- 
 tion which she deservedly excited among her subjects, or to 
 the fair proportions of external form which chanced to dis- 
 tinguish any of her courtiers. Accordingly, she fixed her 
 keen glance on the youth, as she approached the place where 
 he stood, with a look in which surprise at his boldness seemed 
 to be unminofled with resentment, while a trifling accident 
 happened which attracted her attention toward him yet more 
 
■The gallant, throwing his cloak from his shoulders, laid it on the 
 miry spot.** 
 
KBNtLWORTB. 163 
 
 strongly. The night had been rainy, and, just where the 
 young gentleman stood, a small quantity of mud interrupted 
 the Queen's passage. As she hesitated to pass on, the gallant, 
 throwing his cloai: from his shoulders, laid it on the miry 
 spot, so as to insure her stepping over it dry-shod. Elizabeth 
 looked at the young man, who accompanied this act of de- 
 voted courtesy with a profound reverence, and a blush that 
 overspread his whole countenance. The Queen was confused, 
 and blushed in her turn, nodded her head, hastily passed on, 
 and embarked in her barge without saying a word. 
 
 " Come along, sir coxcomb," said Blount; " youi' gay cloak 
 will need the brush to-day, I wot. Nay, if you had meant to 
 make a foot-cloth of your mantle, better have kept Tracy's 
 old ^ drab-de-bure,' which despises all colors." 
 
 " This cloak," said the youth, taking it up and folding it, 
 ^' shall never be brushed while in my possession." 
 
 " And that will not be long, if you learn not a little more 
 economy: we shall have you * in cuerpo ' soon, as the Spaniard 
 says." 
 
 Their discourse was here interrupted by one of the band of 
 pensioners. 
 
 "I was sent," said he, after looking at them attentively, 
 " to a gentleman who hath no cloak, or a muddy one. You, 
 sir, I think," addressing the younger cavalier, " are the man; 
 you will please to follow me." 
 
 " He is in attendance on me," said Blount — " on me, the 
 noble Earl of Sussex's master of horse." 
 
 " I have nothing to say to that," answered the messenger; 
 " my orders are directly from her Majesty, and concern this 
 gentleman only." 
 
 So saying, he walked away, followed by Walter, leaving the 
 others behind, Blount's eyes almost starting from his head 
 with the excess of his astonishment. At length he gave vent 
 to it in an exclamation — " Who the goodjere would have 
 thought this! " And shaking his head with a mysterious air, 
 he walked to his own boat, embarked, and returned to Dept- 
 ford. 
 
 The young cavalier was, in the meanwhile, guided to the 
 water-side by the pensioner, who showed him considerable 
 respect — a circumstance which, to persons in his situation, 
 may be considered as an augury of no small consequence. He 
 ushered him into one of the wherries which lay ready to at- 
 tend the Queen's barge, which was already proceeding up the 
 river, with the advantage of that flood-tide of which, in the 
 
164 WA VBBLEY NO VEL8. 
 
 course of their descent, Blount had complained to his aaso- 
 ciates. 
 
 The two rowers used their oars with such expedition, at 
 the signal of the gentleman pensioner, that they very soon 
 brought their little skiff under the stern of the Queen's boat, 
 where she sate beneath an awning, attended by two or three 
 ladies and the nobles of her household. She looked more 
 than once at the wherry in which the young adventurer was 
 seated, spoke to those around her, and seemed to laugh. At 
 length one of the attendants, by the Queen's order apparently, 
 made a sign for the wherry to come alongside, and the young 
 man was desired to step from his own skiff into the Queen's 
 barge, which he performed with graceful agility at the fore 
 part of the boat, and was brought aft to the Queen's presence, 
 the wherry at the same time dropping into the rear. The 
 youth underwent the gaze of majesty not the less gracefully 
 that his self-possession was mingled with embarrassment. 
 The muddied cloak still hung upon his arm, and formed the 
 natural topic with which the Queen introduced the conver- 
 sation. 
 
 " You have this day spoiled a gay mantle in our be- 
 half, young man. We thank you for your service, though 
 the manner of offering it was unusual, and something 
 bold." 
 
 "In a sovereign's need," answered the youth, "it is each 
 liege-man's duty to be bold." 
 
 " God's pity! that was well said, my lord," said the Queen, 
 turning to a grave person who sate by her, and answered with 
 a grave inclination of the head and something of a mumbled 
 assent. " Well, young man, your gallantry shall not go unre- 
 warded. Go to the wardrobe-keeper, and he shall have orders 
 to supply the suit which you have cast away in our service. 
 Thou shalt have a suit, and that of the newest cut, I promise 
 thee, on the word of a princess." 
 
 " May it please your Grace," said Walter, hesitating, " it is 
 not for so humble a servant of your Majesty to measure out 
 your bounties; but if it became me to choose " 
 
 " Thou wouldst have gold, I warrant me ? " said the Queen, 
 interrupting him. " Fy, young man! I take shame to say 
 that, in our capital, such and so various are the means of 
 thriftless folly, that to give gold to youth is giving fuel to 
 fire, and furnishing them with the means of self-destruction. 
 If I live and reign, these means of unchristian excess shall be 
 abridged. Yet thou mayst be poor," she added, "or thy 
 
KENILWORTK 
 
 166 
 
 parents may be. It shall be gold, if thou wilt, but thou shalt 
 answer to me for the use on't." 
 
 Walter waited patiently until the Queen had done, and then 
 modestly assured her that gold was still less in his wish than 
 the raiment her Majesty had before offered. 
 
 " How, boy! " said the Queen, " neither gold nor garment! 
 What is it thou wouldst have of me, then ? " 
 
 " Only permission, madam — if it is not asking too high an 
 honor — permission to wear the cloak which did you this 
 trifling service." 
 
 " Permission to wear thine own cloak, thou silly boy! '' 
 said the Queen. 
 
 " It is no longer mine," said Walter; " when your Majesty's 
 foot touched it, it became a fit mantle for a prince, but far too 
 rich a one for its former owner." 
 
 The Queen again blushed; and endeavored to cover, by 
 laughing, a slight degree of not unpleasing surprise and con- 
 fusion. 
 
 " Heard you ever the like, my lords? The youth's head is 
 turned with reading romances. I must know something of 
 him, that I may send him safe to his friends. What art 
 thou? " 
 
 " A gentleman of the household of the Earl of Sussex, so 
 please your Grace, sent hither with his master of horse upon 
 a message to your Majesty." 
 
 In a moment the gracious expression which Elizabeth's 
 face had hitherto maintained gave way to an expression of 
 haughtiness and severity. 
 
 " My Lord of Sussex," she said, " has taught us how to re- 
 gard his messages, by the value he places upon ours. We sent 
 but this morning the physician in ordinary of our chamber, 
 and that at no usual time, understanding his lordship's illness 
 to be more dangerous than we had before apprehended. 
 There is at no court in Europe a man more skilled in this 
 holy and most useful science than Dr. Masters, and he came 
 from us to our subject. Nevertheless, he found the gate of 
 Say's Court defended by men with culverins, as if it had been 
 on the Borders of Scotland, not in the vicinity of our court; 
 and when he demanded admittance in our name, it was stub- 
 bornly refused. For this slight of a kindness, which had but 
 too much of condescension in it, we will receive, at present at 
 least, no excuse; and some such we suppose to have been the 
 purport of my Lord of Sussex's message." 
 
 This was uttered in a tone, and with a gesture, which made 
 
166 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 Lord Sussex's friends who were within hearing tremble. He 
 to whom the speech was addressed, however, trembled not; 
 but with great deference and humility, as soon as the Queen's 
 passion gave him an opportunity, he replied — " So please 
 your most gracious Majesty, I was charged with no apology 
 from the Earl of Sussex." 
 
 " With what were you then charged, sir? " said the Queen, 
 with the impetuosity which, amid nobler qualities, strongly 
 marked her character; " was it with a justification? or, God's 
 death! with a defiance?" 
 
 " Madam," said the young man, " my Lord of Sussex knew 
 the offense approached toward treason, and could think of 
 nothing save of securing the offender, and placing him in 
 your Majesty's hands, and at your mercy. The noble earl 
 was fast asleep when your most gracious message reached 
 him, a potion having been administered to that purpose by his 
 physician; and his lordship knew not of the ungracious re- 
 pulse your Majesty's royal and most comfortable message had 
 received until after he awoke this morning." 
 
 ^^ And which of his domestics, then, in the name of Heaven, 
 presumed to reject my message, without even admitting my 
 own physician to the presence of him whom I sent him to 
 attend ? " said the Queen, much surprised. 
 
 " The offender, madam, is before you," replied Walter, 
 bowing very low: "the full and sole blame is mine; and my 
 lord has most justly sent me to abye the consequences of a 
 fault of which he is as innocent as a sleeping man's dreams 
 can be of a waking man's actions." 
 
 "What! was it thou? — thou thyself, that repelled my mes- 
 senger and my physician from Say's Court? " said the Queen. 
 "What could occasion such boldness in one who seems de- 
 voted — that is, whose exterior bearing shows devotion — to his 
 sovereign ? " 
 
 "Madam," said the youth, who, notwithstanding an assumed 
 appearance of severity, thought that he saw something in the 
 Queen's face that resembled not implacability, " we say in our 
 country that the physician is for the time the liege sovereign 
 of his patient. Now, my noble master was then under do- 
 minion of a leech, by whose advice he hath greatly profited, 
 who had issued his commands that his patient should not that 
 night be disturbed, on the very peril of his life." 
 
 " Thy master hath trusted some false varlet of an empiric," 
 taid the Queen. 
 
 " I know not, madam, but by the fact that he is now, this 
 
KENILWORTH. 167 
 
 yery morning, awakened much refreshed and strengthened, 
 from the only sleep he hath had for many hours." 
 
 The nobles looked at each other, but more with the purpose 
 to see what each thought of this news than to exchange any 
 remarks on what had happened. The Queen answered 
 hastily, and without affecting to disguise her satisfaction, "By 
 my word, I am glad he is better. But thou wert over bold to 
 deny the access of my Dr. Masters. Know'st thou not the 
 Holy Writ saith, ^In the multitude of counsel there is 
 safety ' ? " 
 
 "Aye, Madam," said Walter, "but I have heard learned 
 men say that the safety spoken of is for the physicians, not for 
 the patient." 
 
 " By my faith, child, thou hast pushed me home," said the 
 Queen, laughing; "for my Hebrew learning does not come 
 quite at a call. How say you, my Lord of Lincoln? Hath 
 the lad given a just interpretation of the text? " 
 
 " The word ' safety,' most gracious madam," said the 
 Bishop of Lincoln, " for so hath been translated, it may be 
 somewhat hastily, the Hebrew word, being ^" 
 
 " My lord," said the Queen, interrupting him, " we said we 
 had forgotten our Hebrew. But for thee, young man, what 
 is thy name and birth ? " 
 
 " Raleigh is my name, most gracious Queen — the youngest 
 son of a large but honorable family of Devonshire." 
 
 "Ealeigh!" said Elizabeth, after a moment's recollection; 
 " have we not heard of your service in Ireland? " 
 
 " I have been so fortunate as to do some service there, 
 madam," replied Raleigh; " scarce, however, of consequence 
 sufficient to reach your Grace's ears." 
 
 " They hear farther than you think of," said the Queen, 
 graciously, " and have heard of a youth who defended a ford 
 in Shannon against a whole band of wild Irish rebels, until 
 the stream ran purple with their blood and his own." 
 
 " Some blood I may have lost," said the youth, looking 
 down, " but it was where my best is due, and that is in your 
 Majesty's service." 
 
 The Queen paused, and then said hastily, "You are very 
 young to have fought so well and to speak so well. But you 
 must not escape your penance for turning back Masters. 
 The poor man hath caught cold on the river; for our order 
 reached him when he was just returned from certain visits in 
 London, and he held it matter of loyalty and conscience in- 
 stantly to set forth again. So hark ye. Master Raleigh, see 
 
168 WA VEBLEY NO VEL8. 
 
 thou fail not to wear thy muddy cloak, in token of penitence, 
 till our pleasure be farther known. And here/^ she added, 
 giving him a jewel of gold in the form of a chessman, "I 
 give thee this to wear at the collar." 
 
 Ealeigh, to whom nature had taught intuitively, as it were, 
 those courtly arts which many scarce acquire from long ex- 
 perience, knelt, and, as he took from her hand the jewel, 
 kissed the fingers which gave it. He knew, perhaps, better 
 than almost any of the courtiers who surrounded her, how to 
 mingle the devotion claimed by the Queen with the gallantry 
 due to her personal beauty; and in this, his first attempt to 
 unite them, he succeeded so well as at once to gratify Eliza- 
 beth's personal vanity and her love of power.* 
 
 His master, the Earl of Sussex, had the full advantage of 
 the satisfaction which Raleigh had afforded Elizabeth on their 
 first interview. 
 
 " My lords and ladies," said the Queen, looking around to 
 the retinue by whom she was attended, " methinks, since we 
 are upon the river, it were well to renounce our present pur- 
 pose of going to the city, and surprise this poor Earl of Sus- 
 sex with a visit. He is ill, and suffering doubtless under the 
 fear of our displeasure, from which he hath been honestly 
 cleared by the frank avowal of this malapert boy. What 
 think ye? Were it not an act of charity to give him such 
 consolation as the thanks of a queen, much bound to him for 
 his loyal service, may perchance best minister? " 
 
 It may be readily supposed that none to whom this speech 
 was addressed ventured to oppose its purport. 
 
 " Your Grace," said the Bishop of Lincoln, " is the breath 
 of our nostrils." The men of war averred that the face of the 
 sovereign was a whetstone to the soldier's sword; while the 
 men of state were not less of opinion that the light of the 
 Queen's countenance was a lamp to the paths of her coun- 
 cilors; and the ladies agreed with one voice that no noble in 
 England so well deserved the regard of England's royal mis- 
 tress as the Earl of Sussex — ^the Earl of Leicester's right being 
 reserved entire, so some of the more politic worded their assent 
 — an exception to which Elizabeth paid no apparent attention. 
 The barge had, therefore, orders to deposit its royal freight at 
 Deptford, at the nearest and most convnient point of com- 
 munication with Sa5r's Court, in order that the Queen might 
 satisfy her royal and maternal solicitude by making personal 
 inquiries after the health of the Earl of Sussex. 
 
 * See Court Favor of Sir Walter Raleigh. Note 8. 
 
KENILWORTK 169 
 
 Raleigh, whose acute spirit foresaw and anticipated impor- 
 tant consequences from, the most trifling events, hastened to 
 ask the Queen^s permission to go in the skiff, and announce 
 the royal visit to his master; ingeniously suggesting that the 
 joyful surprise might prove prejudicial to his health, since 
 the richest and most generous cordials may sometimes be fatal 
 to those who have been long in a languishing state. 
 
 But whether the Queen deemed it too presumptuous in so 
 young a courtier to interpose his opinion unasked, or whether 
 she was moved by a recurrence of the feeling of jealousy, 
 which had been instilled into her by reports that the earl kept 
 armed men about his person, she desired Ealeigh, shajrply, to 
 reserve his counsel till it was required of him, and repeated 
 her former orders to be landed at Deptford, adding, " We will 
 ourselves see what sort of household my Lord of Sussex keeps 
 about him." 
 
 " Now the Lord have pity on us! " said the young courtier 
 to himself. " Good hearts the earl hath many a one round 
 him, but good heads are scarce with us; and he himself is too 
 ill to give direction. And Blount will be at his morning meal 
 of Yarmouth herrings and ale; and Tracy will have his beastly 
 black puddings and Rhenish; those thorough-paced Welsh- 
 men, Thomas ap Rice and Evan Evans, will be at work on 
 their leek porridge and toasted cheese; and she detests, they 
 say, all coarse meats, evil smells, and strong wines. Could 
 they but think of burning some rosemary in the great hall! 
 but 'vogue la galere/ all must now be trusted to chance. 
 Luck hath done indifferent well for me this morning, for I 
 trust I have spoiled a cloak and made a court fortune. May 
 she do as much for my gallant patron! " 
 
 The royal barge soon stopped at Deptford, and, amid the 
 loud shouts of the populace, which her presence never failed 
 to excite, the Queen, with a canopy borne over her head, 
 walked, accompanied by her retinue, toward Say's Court, 
 where the dist-ant acclamations of the people gave the first 
 notice of her arrival. Sussex, who was in the act of advising 
 with Tressilian how he should make up the supposed breach 
 in the Queen's favor, was infinitely surprised at learning her 
 immediate approach — not that the Queen's custom of visiting 
 her more distinguished nobility, whether in health or sickness, 
 could be unknown to him; but the suddenness of the com- 
 munication left no time for those preparations with which he 
 well knew Elizabeth loved to be greeted, and the rudeness and 
 confusion of his military household, much increased by his 
 
170 WAVBRLET NOVELS, 
 
 late illness, rendered him altogether unprepared for her 
 reception. 
 
 Cursing internally the chance which thus brought her 
 gracious visitation on him unaware, he hastened down with 
 Tressilian, to whose eventful and interesting story he had 
 just given an attentive ear. 
 
 " My worthy friend/' he said, " such support as I can give 
 your accusation of Vamey, you have a right to expect, alike 
 from justice and gratitude. Chance will presently show 
 whether I can do aught with our sovereign, or whether, in 
 very deed, my meddling in your affair may not rather preju- 
 dice than serve you." 
 
 Thus spoke Sussex, while hastily casting around him a loose 
 robe of sables, and adjusting his person in the best manner 
 he could to meet the eye of his sovereign. But no hurried 
 attention bestowed on his apparel could remove the ghastly 
 effects of long illness on a countenance which nature had 
 marked with features rather strong than pleasing. Besides, 
 he was low of stature, and, though broad-shouldered, athletic, 
 and fit for martial achievements, his presence in a peaceful 
 hall was not such as ladies love to look upon — a personal dis- 
 advantage which was supposed to give Sussex, though 
 esteemed and honored by his sovereign, considerable disad- 
 vantage when compared with Leicester, who was alike re- 
 markable for elegance of manners and for beauty of person. 
 
 The earl's utmost dispatch only enabled him to meet the 
 Queen as she entered the great hall, and he at once perceived 
 there was a cloud on her brow. Her jealous eye had noticed 
 the martial array of armed gentlemen and retainers with 
 which the mansion-house was filled, and her first words ex- 
 pressed her disapprobation — "Is this a royal garrison, my 
 Lord of Sussex, that it holds so many pikes and calivers? Or 
 have we by accident overshot Say's Court, and landed at our 
 Tower of London? " 
 
 Lord Sussex hastened to offer some apology. 
 
 " It needs not," she said. " My lord, we intend speedily to 
 take up a certain quarrel between your lordship and another 
 great lord of our household and at the same time to reprehend 
 this uncivilized and dangerous practice of surrounding your- 
 selves with armed and even with ruffianly followers, as if, in 
 the neighborhood of our capital, nay, in the very verge of our 
 royal residence, you were preparing to wage civil war with 
 each other. We are glad to see you so well recovered, my 
 lord, though without the assistance of the learned physician 
 
whom we sent to you. Urge no excuse; we know how that 
 matter fell out, and we have corrected for it the wild slip, 
 young Kaleigh. By the way, my lord, we will speedily relieve 
 your household of him, and take him into our own. Some- 
 thing there is ahout him which merits to he better nurtured 
 than he is like to be amongst your very military followers." 
 
 To this proposal Sussex, though scarce understanding how 
 the Queen came to make it, could only bow and express his 
 acquiescence. He then entreated her to remain till refresh- 
 ment could be offered, but in this he could not prevail. And, 
 after a few compliments of a much colder and more common- 
 place character than might have been expected from a step so 
 decidedly favorable as a personal visit the Queen took her 
 leave of Say^s Court, having brought confusion thither along 
 with her, and leaving doubt and apprehension behind. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Then call them to our presence. Face to face, 
 And frowning brow to brow, ourselves will hear 
 The accuser and accused freely speak ; 
 High-stomach'd are they both and full of ire, 
 In rage deaf as the sea, hasty as fire. 
 
 — Bichard 11. 
 
 " I AM ordered to attend court to-morrow/' said Leicester, 
 speaking to Varney, " to meet, as they surmise, my Lord of 
 Sussex. The Queen intends to take up matters hetwixt us. 
 This comes of her visit to Say's Court, of which you must 
 needs speak so lightly." 
 
 " I maintain it was nothing," said Varney; " nay, I know 
 from a sure intelligencer who was within ear-shot of much 
 that was said, that Sussex has lost rather than gained hy that 
 visit. The Queen said, when she stepped into the boat, that 
 Say's Court looked like a guard-house, and smelt like an hos- 
 I pital. ' Like a cook's shop in Eam's Alley, rather,' said the 
 
 ^ Countess of Rutland, who is ever your lordship's good friend. 
 
 And then my lord of Lincoln must needs put in his holy oar, 
 and say, that my Lord of Sussex must be excused for his rude 
 and old-world housekeeping, since he had as yet no wife." 
 
 " And what said the Queen? " asked Leicester hastily. 
 
 " She took him up roundly," said Varney, " and asked what 
 my Lord of Sussex had to do with a wife, or my lord bishop 
 to speak on such a subject. ' If marriage is permitted,' sh6 
 said, ' I nowhere read that it is enjoined.' " 
 
 " She likes not marriages, or speech of marriage, among 
 churchmen," said Leicester. 
 
 " Nor among courtiers neither," said Varney; but, observ- 
 ing that Leicester changed countenance, he instantly added, 
 " That all the ladies who were present had joined in ridicul- 
 ing Lord Sussex's housekeeping, and in contrasting it with 
 the reception her Grace would have assuredly received at my 
 Lord of Leicester's." 
 
 "You have gathered much tidings," said Leicester, "but 
 you have forgotten or omitted the most important of all. 
 She hath added another to those dangling satellites whom it is 
 her pleasure to keep revolving around her." 
 
 "Your lordship meaneth that Raleigh, the Devonshire 
 
KENILWORTH. 173 
 
 youth," said Vamey — " the Knight of the Cloak, as they call 
 him at court ? " 
 
 " He may be Knight of the Garter one day, for aught I 
 know," said Leicester, "for he advances rapidly. She hath 
 cap'd verses with him, and such fooleries. I would gladly 
 abandon, of my own free will, the part I have in her fickle 
 favor; but I will not be elbowed out of it by the clown Sussex 
 or this new upstart. I hear Tressilian is with Sussex also, 
 and high in his favor. I would spare him for considerations, 
 but he will thrust himself on his fate. Sussex, too, is almost 
 as well as ever in his health." 
 
 " My lord," replied Vamey, " there will be rubs in the 
 smoothest road, specially when it leads up-hill. Sussex's ill- 
 ness was to us a god-send, from which I hoped much. He 
 has recovered, indeed, but he is not now more formidable 
 than ere he fell ill, when he received more than one foil in 
 wrestling with your lordship. Let not your heaxt fail you, 
 my lord, and all shall be well." 
 
 " My heart never failed me, sir," replied Leicester. 
 
 "No, my lord," said Varney; "but it has betrayed you 
 right often. He that would climb a tree, my lord, must grasp 
 by the branches, not by the blossom." 
 
 " Well — well — well! " said Leicester impatiently, " I under- 
 stand thy meaning. My heart shall neither fail me nor 
 seduce me. Have my retinue in order; see that their array be 
 so splendid as to put down not only the rude companions of 
 Ratcliffe, but the retainers of every other nobleman and cour- 
 tier. Let them be well armed withal, but without any out- 
 ward display of their weapons, wearing them as if more for 
 fashion's sake than for use. Do thou thyself keep close to 
 me, I may have business for you." 
 
 The preparations of Sussex and his party were not less 
 anxious than those of Leicester. 
 
 " Thy supplication, impeaching Vamey of seduction," said 
 the earl to Tressilian, " is by this time in the Queen's hand. 
 I have sent it through a sure channel. Methinks your suit 
 should succeed, being, as it is, founded in justice and honor, 
 and Elizabeth being the very muster of both. But, I wot not 
 how, the gypsy [so Sussex was wont to call his rival, on ac- 
 count of his dark complexion] hath much to say with her in 
 these holiday times of peace. Were war at the gates, I should 
 be one of her whiteboys; but soldiers, like their bucklers and 
 Bilboa blades, get out of fashion in peace time, and satin 
 
1 ^4 WA VEBLET NO VEL8. 
 
 sleeves and walking rapiere bear the bell. Well, we must be 
 gay, since such is the fashion. Blount, hast thou seen our 
 household put into their new braveries? But thou know'st 
 as little of these toys as I do; thou wouldst be ready now at 
 disposing a stand of pikes." 
 
 "My good lord," answered Blount, "Raleigh hath been 
 here, and taken that charge upon him. Your train will glit- 
 ter like a May morning. Marry, the cost is another question. 
 One might keep an hospital of old soldiers at the charge of 
 ten modem lackeys." 
 
 " We must not count cost to-day, Nicholas," said the earl in 
 reply. "I am beholden to Raleigh for his care; I trust, 
 though, he has remembered that I am an old soldier, and 
 would have no more of these follies than needs must." 
 
 ^ Nay, I understand naught about it," said Blount; " but 
 here are your honorable lordship's brave kinsmen and friends 
 coming in by scores to wait upon you to court, where, me- 
 thinks, we shall bear as brave a front as Leicester, let him 
 ruffle it as he will." 
 
 " Give them the strictest charges," said Sussex, " that they 
 suffer no provocation short of actual violence to provoke them 
 into quarrel: they have hot bloods, and I would not give 
 Leicester the advantage over me by any imprudence of 
 theirs." 
 
 The Earl of Sussex ran so hastily through these directions, 
 that it was with difficulty Tressilian at length found oppor- 
 tunity to express his surprise, that he should have proceeded 
 so far in the affair of Sir Hugh Robsart as to lay his petition 
 at once before the Queen. " It was the opinion of the young 
 lady's friends," he said, "that Leicester's sense of justice 
 should be first appealed to, as the offense had been committed 
 by his officer and so he had expressly told to Sussex." 
 
 " This could have been done without applying to me," said 
 Sussex, somewhat haughtily. " I, at least, ought not to have 
 been a counselor when the object was a humiliating reference 
 to Leicester; and I am surprised that you, Tressilian, a man of 
 honor, and my friend, would assume such a mean course. If 
 you said so, I certainly understood you not in a matter which 
 Bounded so unlike yourself." 
 
 " My lord," said Tressilian, " the course I would prefer, for 
 my own sake, is that you have adopted; but the friends of 
 this most unhappy lady " 
 
 " Oh, the friends — the friends," said Sussex, interrupting 
 him; " they must let us manage this cause in the way whicla 
 
KENILWOBTH. 176 
 
 seems best. This is the time and the hour to accumulate 
 every charge against Leicester and his household, and yours 
 the Queen will hold a heavy one. But at all events she hath 
 the complaint before her." 
 
 Tressilian could not help suspecting that, in his eagerness 
 to strengthen himself against his rival, Sussex had purposely 
 adopted the course most likely to throw odium on Leicester, 
 without considering minutely whether it were the mode of 
 proceeding most likely to be attended with success. But the 
 step was irrevocable, and Sussex escaped from farther discuss- 
 ing it by dismissing his company with the command, " Let all 
 be in order at eleven o'clock; I must be at court and in the 
 presence by high noon precisely." 
 
 While the rival statesmen were thus anxiously preparing 
 for their approaching meeting in the Queen's presence, even 
 Elizabeth herself was not without apprehension of what 
 might chance from the collision of two such fiery spirits, each 
 backed by a strong and numerous body of followers, and 
 dividing betwixt them, either openly or in secret, the hopes 
 and wishes of most of her court. The band of gentlemen 
 pensioners were all under arms, and a re-enforcement of the 
 yeomen of the guard was brought down the Thames from 
 London. A royal proclamation was sent forth, strictly pro- 
 hibiting nobles, of whatever degree, to approach the palace 
 with retainers or followers, armed with shot or with long 
 weapons; and it was even whispered that the high sheriff of 
 Kent had secret instructions to have a part of the array of 
 the county ready on the shortest notice. 
 
 The eventful hour, thus anxiously prepared for on all sides, 
 at length approached, and each followed by his long and glit- 
 tering train of friends and followers, the rival earls entered 
 the palace-yard of Greenwich at noon precisely. 
 
 As if by previous arrangement, or perhaps by intimation 
 that such was the Queen's pleasure, Sussex and his retinue 
 came to the palace from Deptford by water, while Leicester 
 arrived by land; and thus they entered the courtyard from 
 opposite sides. This trifling circumstance gave Leicester a 
 certain ascendency in the opinion of the vulgar, the appear- 
 ance of his cavalcade of mounted followers showing more 
 numerous and more imposing than those of Sussex's party, 
 who were necessarily upon foot. No show or sign of greeting 
 passed between the earls, though each looked full at the other, 
 both expecting, perhaps, an exchange of courtesies, which 
 
17<I WA VEBLET NO VELS. 
 
 neither was willing to commence. Almost in the minute of 
 their arrival the castle bell tolled, the gates of the palace were 
 opened, and the earls entered, each numerously attended by 
 such gentlemen of their train whose rank gave them that 
 privilege. The yeomen and inferior attendants remained in 
 the courtyard, where the opposite parties eyed each other with 
 looks of eager hatred and scorn, as if waiting with impatience 
 for some cause of tumult, or some apology for mutual aggres- 
 sion. But they were restrained by the strict commands of 
 their leaders, and overawed, perhaps, by the presence of an 
 armed guard of unusual strength. 
 
 In the meanwhile, the more distinguished persons of each 
 train followed their patrons into the lofty halls and ante- 
 chambers of the royal palace, flowing on in the same current, 
 like two streams which are compelled into the same channel, 
 yet shun to mix their waters. The parties arranged them- 
 selves, as it were instinctively, on the different sides of the 
 lofty apartments, and seemed eager to escape from the tran- 
 sient union which the narrowness of the crowded entrance 
 had for an instant compelled them to submit to. The folding- 
 doors at the upper end of the long gallery were immediately 
 afterward opened, and it was announced in a whisper that 
 the Queen was in her presence-chamber, to which these gave 
 access. Both earls moved slowly and stately toward the en- 
 trance — Sussex followed by Tressilian, Blount, and Ealeigh, 
 and Leicester by Vamey. The pride of Leicester was ohliged 
 to give way to court forms, and, with a grave and formal in- 
 clination of the head, he paused until his rival, a peer of older 
 creation than his own, passed before him. Sussex returned 
 the reverence with the same formal civility, and entered the 
 presence-room. Tressilian and Blount offered to follow him, 
 but were not permitted, the Usher of the Black Rod alleging 
 in excuse, that he had precise orders to look to all admissions 
 that day. To Raleigh, who stood back on the repulse of his 
 companions, he said, "You, sir, may enter," and he entered 
 accordingly. 
 
 " Follow me close, Vamey," said the Earl of Leicester, who 
 had stood aloof for a moment to mark the reception of Sus- 
 sex; and, advancing to the entrance, he was about to pass on, 
 when Varney, who was close behind him, dressed out in the 
 utmost bravery of the day, was stopped by the usher, as Tres- 
 silian and Blount had been before him. " How is this. Mas- 
 ter Bowyer? " said the Earl of Leicester. " Know you who I 
 am, and that this is my friend and follower? " 
 
KENILWORTH. 177 
 
 "Your lordship will pardon me," replied Bowyer stoutly; 
 " my orders are precise, and limit me to a strict discharge of 
 my duty/' 
 
 "Thou art a partial knave,'' said Leicester, the blood 
 mounting to his face, " to do me this dishonor, when you but 
 now admitted a follower of my Lord of Sussex." 
 
 "My lord," said Bowyer, "Master Raleigh is newly ad- 
 mitted a sworn servant of her Grace, and to him my orders 
 did not apply." 
 
 " Thou art a knave — an ungrateful knave," said Leicester; 
 " but he that hath done can undo: thou shalt not prank thee 
 in thy authority long! " 
 
 This threat he uttered aloud, with less than his usual policy 
 and discretion, and having done so, he entered the presence- 
 chamber, and made his reverence to the Queen, who, attired 
 with even more than her usual splendor, and surrounded by 
 those nobles and statesmen whose courage and wisdom have 
 rendered her reign immortal, stood ready to receive the 
 homage of her subjects. She graciously returned the obei- 
 sance of the favorite earl, and looked altemateb at him and 
 at Sussex as if about to speak, when Bowyer, „ man whose 
 spirit could not brook the insult he had so openly received 
 from Leicester, in the discharge of his office, advanced with 
 his black rod in his hand, and knelt down before her. 
 
 " Why, how now, Bowyer? " said Elizabeth, " thy courtesy 
 seems strangely timed! " 
 
 " My liege sovereign," he said, while every courtier around 
 trembled at his audacity, " I come but to ask whether, in the 
 discharge of mine office, I am to obey your Highness's com- 
 mands or those of the Earl of Leicester, who has publicly 
 menaced me with his displeasure, and treated me with dispar- 
 aging terms, because I denied entry to one of his followers, in 
 obedience to your Grace's precise orders? " 
 
 The spirit of Henry VIIL was instantly aroused in the 
 bosom of his daughter, and she turned on Leicester with a 
 severity which appalled him, as well as all his followers. 
 
 " God's death! my lord," such was her emphatic phrase, 
 "what means this? We have thought well of you, and brought 
 you near to our person; but it was not that you might hide 
 the sun from our other faithful subjects. Who gave you 
 license to contradict our orders or control our officers? I 
 will have in this court, a^^e, and in this realm, but one mis- 
 tress, and no master. Look to it that Master Bowyer sustains 
 no harm for his duty to me faithfully discharged; for; as I 
 
am Christian woman and crowned Queen, I will hold you 
 dearly answerable. Go, Bowyer, you have done the part of 
 an honest man and a true subject. We will brook no mayor 
 of the palace here.^^ 
 
 Bowyer kissed the hand which she extended toward him, 
 and withdrew to his post, astonished at the success of his own 
 audacity. A smile of triumph pervaded the faction of Sussex; 
 thav of Leicester seemed proportionally dismayed, and the 
 favorite himself, assuming an aspect of the deepest humility, 
 did not even attempt a word in his own exculpation. 
 
 He acted wisely; for it was the policy of Elizabeth to 
 humble, not to disgrace him, and it was prudent to suffer her, 
 without opposition or reply, to glory in the exertion of her 
 authority. The dignity of the Queen was gratified, and the 
 woman began soon to feel for the mortification which she had 
 imposed on her favorite. Her keen eye also observed the 
 secret looks of congratulation exchanged amongst those who 
 favored Sussex, and it was no part of her policy to give either 
 party a decisive triumph. 
 
 **What - say to my Lord of Leicester," she said, after a 
 moment's pause, " I say also to you, my Lord of Sussex. You 
 also must needs ruffle in the court of England at the head of 
 a faction of your own." 
 
 " My followers, gracious princess," said Sussex, " have in- 
 deed ruffled in your cause in Ireland, in Scotland, and against 
 yonder rebellious earls in the north. I am ignorant that " 
 
 " Do you bandy looks and words with me, my lord ? " said 
 the Queen, interrupting him; " methinks you might learn of 
 my Lord of Leicester the modesty to be silent, at least, under 
 our censure. I say, my lord, that my grandfather and my 
 father, in their wisdom, debarred the nobles of this civilized 
 land from traveling with such disorderly retinues; and think 
 you that, because I wear a coif, their scepter has in my hand 
 been changed into a distaff? I tell you, no king in Christen- 
 dom will less brook his court to be cumbered, his people 
 oppressed, and his kingdom^s peace disturbed, by the arro- 
 gance of overgrown power, than she who now speaks with you. 
 My Lord of Leicester, and you, my Lord of Sussex, I com- 
 mand you both to be friends with each other; or, by the crown 
 I wear, you shall find an enemy who will be too strong for 
 both of you! " 
 
 " Madam," said the Earl of Leicester, " you, who are your- 
 self the fountain of honor, know best what is due to mine. 
 I place it at your disposal, and only say, that the terms on 
 
KENILWORTH. 1^9 
 
 which I have stood with my Lord of Sussex have not been of 
 my seeking; nor had he cause to think me his enemy until he 
 had done me gross wrong." 
 
 " For me, madam," said the Earl of Sussex, " I cannot ap- 
 peal from your sovereign pleasure; but I were well content 
 my Lord of Leicester should say in what I have, as he terms 
 it, wronged him, since my tongue never spoke the word that 
 I would not willingly justify either on foot or horseback." 
 
 " And for me," said Leicester, " always under my gracious 
 sovereign's pleasure, my hand shall be as ready to make good 
 my words as that of any man who ever wrote himself Kat- 
 cliffe." 
 
 " My lords," said the Queen, " these are no terms for this 
 presence; and if you cannot keep your temper, we will find 
 means to keep both that and you close enough. Let me see 
 you join hands, my lords, and forget your idle animosities." 
 
 The two rivals looked at each other with reluctant eyes, 
 each unwilling to make the first advance to execute the 
 Queen's will. 
 
 " Sussex," said Elizabeth, " I entreat — Leicester, I com- 
 mand you." 
 
 Yet, so were her words accented, that the entreaty sounded 
 like command and the command like entreaty. They re* 
 mained still and stubborn, until she raised her voice to a 
 height which argued at once impatience and absolute com- 
 mand. 
 
 " Sir Henry Lee," she said to an officer in attendance, 
 "have a guard in present readiness, and man a barge in- 
 stantly. My Lords of Sussex and Leicester, I bid you once 
 more to join hands — and, God's death! he that refuses shall 
 taste of our Tower fare ere he see our face again. I will 
 lower your proud hearts ere we part, and that I promise, on 
 the word of a queen! " 
 
 " The prison," said Leicester, " might be borne, but to lose 
 your Grace's presence were to lose light and life at once. 
 Here, Sussex, is my hand." 
 
 " And here," said Sussex, " is mine in truth and honesty; 
 but " 
 
 " Nay, under favor, you shall add nO more," said the Queen. 
 "Why, this is as it should be," she added, looking on them 
 more favorably, " and when you, the shepherds of the people, 
 unite to protect them, it shall be well with the flock we rule 
 over. For, my lords, I tell you plainly, your follies and your 
 brawls lead to strange disorders among your servants. My 
 
180 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 Lord of Leicester, you have a gentleman in your household 
 called Vamey? " 
 
 " Yes, gracious madam," replied Leicester; " I presented 
 him to kiss your royal hand when you were last at Non- 
 such." 
 
 " His outside was well enough," said the Queen, " hut 
 scarce so fair, I should have thought, as to have caused a 
 maiden of honorable birth and hopes to barter her fame for 
 his good looks, and become his paramour. Yet so it is: this 
 fellow of yours hath seduced the daughter of a good old 
 Devonshire knight. Sir Hugh Kobsart of Lidcote Hall, and 
 she hath fled with him from her father's house like a casta- 
 way. My Lord of Leicester, are you ill, that you look so 
 deadly pale?" 
 
 " No, gracious madam," said Leicester, and it required 
 every effort he could make to bring forth these few words. 
 
 "You are surely ill, my lord?" said Elizabeth, going 
 toward him with hasty speech and hurried step, which indi- 
 cated the deepest concern. " Call Masters — call our surgeon 
 in ordinary. Where be these loitering fools? We lose the 
 pride of our court through their negligence. Or is it possible, 
 Leicester," she continued, looking on him with a very gentle 
 aspect — " can fear of my displeasure have wrought so deeply 
 on thee? Doubt not for a moment, noble Dudley, that we 
 could blame thee for the folly of thy retainer — thee, whose 
 thoughts we know to be far otherwise employed! He that 
 would climb the eagle's nest, my lord, cares not who are catch- 
 ing linnets at the foot of the precipice." 
 
 "Mark you that?" said Sussex, aside to Ealeigh. "The 
 devil aids him surely! for all that would sink another ten 
 fathom deep seems but to make him float the more easily. 
 Had a follower of mine acted thus " 
 
 " Peace, my good lord," said Ealeigh — " for God's sake, 
 peace! Wait the change of the tide; it is even now on the 
 turn." 
 
 The acute observation of Ealeigh, perhaps, did not deceive 
 him; for Leicester's confusion was so great, and, indeed, for 
 the moment, so irresistibly overwhelming, that Elizabeth, 
 after looking at him with a wondering eye, and receiving no 
 intelligible answer to the unusual expressions of grace and 
 affection which had escaped from her, shot her quick glance 
 around the circle of courtiers, and reading, perhaps, in their 
 faces something that accorded with her own awakened sus- 
 picions, she said suddenly, " Or is there more in this than wo 
 
KENILWORTH. 181 
 
 see, or than you, my lord, wish that we should see? Where 
 is this Varney? Who saw him? " 
 
 " An it please your Grace," said Bowyer, " it is the same 
 against whom I this instant closed the door of the presence- 
 room." 
 
 " An it please me! " repeated Elizabeth sharply, not at that 
 moment in the humor of being pleased with anything. " It 
 does not please me that he should pass saucily into my pres- 
 ence, or that you should exclude from it one who came to 
 justify himself from an accusation." 
 
 " May it please you," answered the perplexed usher, " if I 
 knew, in such case, how to bear myself, I would take 
 heed- " 
 
 " You should have reported the fellow's desire to us. Mas- 
 ter Usher, and taken our directions. You think yourself a 
 great man, because but now we chid a nobleman on your ac- 
 count; yet, after all, we hold you but as the lead- weight that 
 keeps the door fast. Call this Varney hither instantly; there 
 is one Tressilian also mentioned in this petition; let them 
 both come before us." 
 
 She was obeyed, and Tressilian and Varney appeared ac- 
 cordingly. Vamey's first glance was at Leicester, his second 
 at the Queen. In the looks of the latter there appeared an 
 approaching storm, and in the downcast countenance of his 
 patron he could read no directions in what way he was to trim 
 his vessel for the encounter; he then saw Tressilian, and at 
 once perceived the peril of the situation in which he was 
 placed. But Varney was as bold-faced and ready-witted as he 
 was cunning and unscrupulous — a skillful pilot in extremity, 
 and fully conscious of the advantages which he would obtain, 
 could he extricate Leicester from his present peril, and of the 
 ruin that yawned for himself should he fail in doing so. 
 
 "Is it true, sirrah," said the Queen, with one of those 
 aearching looks which few had the audacity to resist, " that 
 you have seduced to infamy a young lady of bjrth and breed- 
 ing, the daughter of Sir Hugh Robsart of Lidcote Hall? " 
 
 Varney kneeled down, and replied, with a look of the most 
 profound contrition — " There had been some love passages 
 betwixt him and Mistress Amy Eobsart." 
 
 Leicester's flesh quivered with indignation as he heard his 
 dependent make this avowal, and for one moment he manned 
 himself to step forward, and, bidding farewell to the court 
 and the royal favor, confess the whole mystery of the secret 
 marriage. But he looked at Sussex, and the idea of the tri- 
 
18S WAYBTtLET NOVELS. 
 
 umphant smile which would clothe his cheek -upon hearing 
 the avowal sealed his lips. " Not now, at least/' he thought, 
 "or in this presence, will I afford him so rich a triumph." 
 And pressing his lips close together, he stood firm and col- 
 lected, attentive to each word which Vamey uttered, and de- 
 termined to hide to the last the secret on which his court 
 favor seemed to depend. Meanwhile, the Queen proceeded in 
 her examination of Vamey. 
 
 " Love passages! " said she, echoing his last words; " what 
 passages, thou knave? and why not ask the wench's hand 
 from her father, if thou hadst any honesty in thy love for 
 her? " 
 
 " An it please your Grace," said Vamey, still on his knees, 
 " I dared not do so, for her father had promised her hand to 
 a gentleman of birth and honor — I will do him justice, 
 though I know he bears me ill-will — one Master Edmund 
 Tressilian, whom I now see in the presence." 
 
 " Sob! " replied the Queen; " and what was your right to 
 make the simple fool break her worthy father's contract, 
 through your love passages, as your conceit and assurance 
 terms them ? " 
 
 " Madam," replied Vamey, " it is in vain to plead the cause 
 of human frailty before a judge to whom it is unknown, or 
 that of love to one who never yields to the passion — ^" he 
 paused an instant, and then added, in a very low and timid 
 tone — " which she inflicts upon all others." 
 
 Elizabeth tried to frown, but smiled in her own despite, as 
 she answered, "Thou art a marvelously impudent knave. 
 Art thou married to the girl?" 
 
 Leicester's feelings became so complicated and so painfully 
 intense, that it seemed to him as if his life was to depend on 
 the answer made by Varney, who, after a moment's real hesi- 
 tation, answered, " Yes." 
 
 "Thou false villain!" said Leicester, bursting forth into 
 rage, yet unable to add another word to the sentence which 
 he had begun with such emphatic passion. 
 
 " Nay, my lord," said the Queen, " we will, by your leave, 
 stand between this fellow and your anger. We have not yet 
 done with him. Knew your master, my Lord of Leicester, of 
 this fair work of yours? Speak truth, I command thee, and 
 I will be thy warrant from danger on every quarter." 
 
 " Gracious madam," said Vamey, " to speak Heaven's 
 truth, my lord was the cause of the whole matter." 
 
 "Thou villain, wouldst thou betray me?" said Leicester. 
 
KENILWORTH. 183 
 
 " Speak on/' said the Queen hastily, h^r cheek coloring 
 and her eyes sparkling as she addressed Varney — " speak on; 
 here no commands are heard but mine." 
 
 " They are omnipotent, gracious madam,'' replied Varney; 
 " and to you there can be no secrets. Yet I would not," he 
 added, looking around him, " speak of my master's concerns 
 to other ears." 
 
 " Fall back, my lords," said the Queen to those who sur- 
 rounded her, " and do you speak on. What hath the earl to 
 do with this guilty intrigue of thine? See, fellow, that thou 
 beliest him not! " 
 
 " Far be it from me to traduce my noble patron," replied 
 Varney; "yet I am compelled to own that some deep, over- 
 whelming, yet secret feeling hath of late dwelt in my lord's 
 mind, hath abstracted him from the cares of the household, 
 which he was wont to govern with such religious strictness, 
 and hath left us opportunities to do follies, of which the 
 shame, as in this case, partly falls upon our patron. Without 
 this, I had not had means or leisure to commit the folly which 
 has drawn on me his displeasure, the heaviest to endure by 
 me which I could by any means incur — saving always the 
 yet more dreaded resentment of your Grace." 
 
 " And in this sense, and no other, hath he been accessory to 
 thy fault? " said EHzabeth. 
 
 " Surely, madam, in no other," replied Varney; " but, since 
 somewhat hath chanced to him, he can scarce be called his 
 own man. Look at him, madam, how pale and trembling he 
 stands — how unlike his usual majesty of manner; yet what 
 has he to fear from aught I can say to your Highness? Ah! 
 madam, since he received that fatal packet! " 
 
 " What packet, and from whence? " said the Queen 
 eagerly. 
 
 " From whence, madam, I cannot guess; but I am so near 
 to his person that I know he has ever since worn, suspended 
 around his neck and next to his heart, that lock of hair which 
 sustains a small golden jewel shaped like a heart. He speaks 
 to it when alone; he parts not from it when he sleeps. No 
 heathen ever worshiped an idol with such devotion." 
 
 " Thou art a prying knave to watch thy master so closely," 
 said Elizabeth, blushing, but not with anger; " and a tattling 
 knave to tell over again his fooleries. What color might the 
 braid of hair be that thou pratest of? " 
 
 Varney repKed, "A poet, madam, might call it a thread 
 from the golden web wrought bv Minerva; but, to my think- 
 
184 WAVEBLET NOVELS. 
 
 ing, it was paler than even the purest gold — more like tke 
 last parting sunbeam of the softest day of spring." 
 
 " Why, you are a poet yourself, Master Varney," said the 
 Queen, smiling; " but I have not genius quick enough to 
 follow your rare metaphors. Look round these ladies — ^is 
 there [she hesitated, and endeavored to assume an air of great 
 indifl'erence] — is there here, in this presence, any lady, the 
 color of whose hair reminds thee of that braid? Methinks, 
 without prying into my Lord of Leicester's amorous secrets, I 
 would fain know what kind of locks are like the thread of 
 Minerva's web, or the — what was it? — the last rays of the 
 May-day sun." 
 
 Varney looked round the presence-chamber, his eye travel- 
 ing from one lady to another, until at length it rested upon 
 the Queen herself, but with an aspect of the deepest venera- 
 tion. " I see no tresses," he said, " in this presence, worthy 
 of such similes, unless where I dare not look on them." 
 
 " How, sir knave," said the Queen, " dare you inti- 
 mate " 
 
 " Nay, madam," replied Varney, shading his eyes with his 
 hand, " it was the beams of the May-day sun that dazzled my 
 weak eyes." 
 
 " Go to — go to," said the Queen, " thou art a foolish fel- 
 low," and turning quickly from him, she walked up to 
 Leicester. 
 
 Intense curiosity, mingled with all the various hopes, fears, 
 and passions which influence court faction, had occupied the 
 presence-chamber during the Queen's conference with Var- 
 ney, as if with the strength of an Eastern talisman. Men 
 ssupended every, even the slightest, external motion, and 
 would have ceased to breathe, had Nature permitted such an 
 int'Crmission of her functions. The atmosphere was con- 
 tagious, and Leicester, who saw all around wishing or fearing 
 his advancement or his fall, forgot all that love had previously 
 dictated, and saw nothing for the instant but the favor or dis- 
 grace which depended on the nod of Elizabeth and the fidelity 
 of Varney. He summoned himself hastily, and prepared to 
 play his part in the scene which was like to ensue, when, as 
 he judged from the glances which the Queen threw toward 
 him, Vamey's commiinications, be they what they might, 
 were operating in his favor. Elizabeth did not long leave 
 him in doubt; for the more than favor with which she 8k, 
 costed him decided his triumph in the eyes of his rival, and of 
 the assembled court of England. " Thou hast a prating 
 
KENILWORTS, 185 
 
 •ervant of this same Vamey, my lord," she said; " it is lucky 
 you trust him with nothing that can hurt you in our opinion, 
 for, believe me, he would keep no counsel." 
 
 "From your Highness," said Leicester, dropping grace- 
 fully on one knee, " it were treason he should. I would that 
 my heart itself lay before you, barer than the tongue of any 
 servant could strip it." 
 
 " What, my lord," said Elizabeth, looking kindly upon him, 
 " is there no one little comer over which you would wish to 
 spread a veil? Ah! I see you are confused at the question, 
 and your Queen knows she should not look too deeply into 
 her servants' motives for their faithful duty, lest she see what 
 might, or at least ought to, displease her." 
 
 Eelieved by these last words, Leicester broke out into a 
 torrent of expressions of deep and passionate attachment, 
 which perhaps, at that moment, were not altogether fictitious. 
 The mingled emotions which had at first overcome him, had 
 now given way to the energetic vigor with which he had de- 
 termined to support his place in the Queen's favor; and never 
 did he seem to Elizabeth more eloquent, more handsome, 
 more interesting, than while, kneeling at her feet, he con- 
 jured her to strip him of all his power, but to leave him the 
 name of her servant. " Take from the poor Dudley," he ex- 
 claimed, " all that your bounty has made him, and bid him be 
 the poor gentleman he was when your Grace first shone on 
 him; leave him no more than his cloak and his sword, but let 
 him still boast he has — what in word or deed he 
 never forfeited — the regard of his adored Queen and 
 mistress! " 
 
 " No, Dudley! " said Elizabeth, raising him with one hand, 
 while she extended the other that he might kiss it; " Eliza- 
 beth hath not forgotten that, whilst you were a poor gentle- 
 man, despoiled of your hereditary rank, she was as poor a 
 princess, and that in her cause you then ventured all that 
 oppression had left you — your life and honor. Eise, my lord, 
 and 1ft my hand go. Rise, and be what you have ever been, 
 the grace of our court and the support of our throne. Your 
 mistress may be forced to chide your misdemeanors, but never 
 without owning your merits. And so help me God," she 
 added, turning to the audience, who, with various feelings, 
 witnessed this interesting scene — " so help me God, gentle- 
 men, as I think never sovereign had a truer servant than I 
 have in this noble earl! " 
 A murmur of assent rose from the Leicestrian faction. 
 
186 WA VEBLET NO VEL8. 
 
 which the friends of Sussex dared not oppose. They re- 
 mained with their eyes fixed on the ground, dismayed as well 
 as mortified by the public and absolute triumph of their op- 
 ponents. Leicester's first' use of the familiarity to which the 
 Queen had so publicly restored him was to ask her commands 
 concerning Vamey's offense. " Although," he said, " the fel- 
 low deserves nothing from me but displeasure, yet, might I 
 
 presume to intercede " 
 
 " In truth, we had forgotten his matter," said the Queen; 
 " and it was ill done of us, who owe justice to our meanest as 
 well as to our highest subject. We are pleased, my lord, that 
 you were the first to recall the matter to our memory. Where 
 is TressiHan, the accuser? let him come before us." 
 
 Tressilian appeared, and made a low and beseeming rever- 
 ence. His person, as we have elsewhere observed, had an air 
 of grace, and even of nobleness, which did not escape Queen 
 Elizabeth's critical observation. She looked at him with at- 
 tention, as he stood before her unabashed, but with an air of 
 the deepest dejection. 
 
 "I cannot but grieve for this gentleman," she said to 
 Leicester. '^ I have inquired concerning him, and his pres- 
 ence confirms what I heard, that he is a scholar and a soldier, 
 well accomplished both in arts and arms. We women, my 
 lord, are fanciful in our choice: I had said now, to judge by 
 the eye, there was no comparison to be held betwixt your fol- 
 lower and this gentleman. But Yarney is a well-spoken 
 fellow, and, to speak truth, that goes far with us of the weaker 
 sex. Look you, Master Tressilian, a bolt lost is not a bow 
 broken. Your true affection, as I will hold it to be, hath 
 been, it seems, but ill requited; but you have scholarship, and 
 you know there have been false Cressidas to be found, from 
 the Trojan war downward. Forget, good sir, this lady light 
 o' love; teach your affection to see with, a wiser eye. This we 
 say to you more from the writings of learned men than our 
 own knowledge, being, as we are, far removed by station and 
 will from the enlargement of experience in such idle toys of 
 humorous passion. For this dame's father, we can make his 
 grief the less by advancing his son-in-law to such station as 
 may enable him to give an honorable support to his bride. 
 Thou shalt not be forgotten thyself, Tressilian; follow our 
 court, and thou shalt see that a true Troilus hath some claim 
 on our grace. Think of what that arch-knave Shakspere says 
 — a plague on him. his toys come into my head when I should 
 think of other matters! Stay, how goes it? 
 
KENILWORTH, 187 
 
 CreBBid was yours, tied with the bonds of heaven ; 
 These bonds of heaven are slipt, dissolved, and loosed, 
 And with another knot five fingers tied, 
 The fragments of her faith are bound to Diomed. 
 
 You smile, my Lord of Southampton! Perchance I make 
 your player^s verse halt through my had memory; hut let it 
 suffice: let there be no more of this mad matter." 
 
 And as Tressilian kept the posture of one who would will- 
 ingly he heard, though, at the same time, expressive of the 
 deepest reverence, the Queen added with some impatience — 
 '^What would the man have? The wench cannot wed both 
 of you? She has made her election — not a wise one per- 
 chance, but she is Vamey's wedded wife." 
 
 " My suit should sleep there, most gracious sovereign," said 
 Tressilian, " and with my suit my revenge. But I hold this 
 Vamey's word no good warrant for the truth." 
 
 " Had that doubt been elsewhere urged," answered Vamey, 
 " my sword " 
 
 " Thy sword! " interrupted Tressilian scornfully; " with 
 her Grace's leave, my sword shall show " 
 
 "Peace, you knaves — both!" said the Queen; "know you 
 where you are? This comes of your feuds, my lords," she 
 added, looking toward Leicester and Sussex: "your followers 
 catch your own humor, and must bandy and brawl in my 
 court, and in my very presence, like so many Matamoros. 
 Look you, sirs, he that speaks of drawing swords in any other 
 quarrel than mine or England's, by mine honor, I'll bracelet 
 him with iron both on wrist and ankle! " She then paused 
 a minute, and resumed in a milder tone, " I must do justice 
 betwixt the bold and mutinous knaves notwithstanding. My 
 Lord of Leicester, will you warrant with your honor — that is, 
 to the best of your belief — that your servant speaks truth in 
 saying he hath married this Amy Eobsart? " 
 
 This was a home-thrust, and had nearly staggered Leices- 
 ter. But he had now gone too far to recede, and answered, 
 after a moment's hesitation, " To the best of my belief— in- 
 deed, on my certain knowledge — she is a wedded wife." 
 
 " Gracious madam," said Tressilian, " may I yet request to 
 know when, and under what circumstances, this alleged mar- 
 riage " 
 
 "Out, sirrah," answered the Queen — "alleged marriage! 
 Have you not the word of this illustrious earl to warrant the 
 truth of what his servant says? But thou art a loser — 
 think'st thyself such at least — and thou shalt have indul- 
 
188 WAVERLE7 NOVELS, 
 
 gence; we will look into the matter ourself more at leisure. 
 My Lord of Leicester, I trust you remember we mean to taste 
 the good cheer of your Castle of Kenilworth on this week 
 ensuing; we will pray you to bid our good and valued friend 
 the Earl of Sussex to hold company with us there." 
 
 "If the noble Earl of Sussex," said Leicester, bowing to 
 his rival with the easiest and with the most graceful couri:esy, 
 " will so far honor my poor house, I will hold it an additional 
 proof of the amicable regard it is your Grace's desire we 
 should entertain toward each other." 
 
 Sussex was more embarrassed. "I should," said he, 
 " madam, be but a clog on your gayer hours, since my late 
 severe illness." 
 
 "And have you been indeed so very ill?" said Elizabeth, 
 looking on him with more attention than before; " you are in 
 faith strangely altered, and deeply am I grieved to see it. 
 But be of good cheer; we will ourselves look after the health 
 of so valued a servant, and to whom we owe so much. Mas- 
 ters shall order your diet; and that we ourselves may see that 
 he is obeyed, you must attend us in this progress to Kenil- 
 worth." 
 
 This was said so peremptorily, and at the same time with 
 so much kindness, that Sussex, however unwilling to become 
 the guest of his rival, had no resource but to bow low to the 
 Queen in obedience to her commands, and to express to 
 Leicester, with blunt courtesy, though mingled with embar- 
 rassment, his acceptance of his invitation. As the earls ex- 
 changed compliments on the occasion, the Queen said to her 
 high treasurer, "Methinks, my lord, the countenances of 
 these our two noble peers resemble those of the two famed 
 classic streams, the one so dark and sad, the other so fair and 
 noble. My old Master Ascham would have chid me for for- 
 getting the author. It is Caesar, as I think. See what ma- 
 jestic calmness sits on the brow of the noble Leicester, while 
 Sussex seems to greet him as if he did our will indeed, but 
 not willingly." 
 
 " The doubt of your Majesty's favor," answered the lord 
 treasurer, "may perchance occasion the difference, which 
 does not — as what does? — escape your Grace's eye." 
 
 " Such doubt were injurious to us, my lord," replied the 
 Queen. " We hold both to be near and dear to us, and will 
 with impartiality employ both in honorable service for the 
 weal of our kingdom. But we will break their farther con- 
 ference at present. My Lords of Sussex and Leicester, w© 
 
KENILWORTH, 189 
 
 have a word more with you. Tressilian and Vamey are near 
 your persons; you will see that they attend you at Kenilworth. 
 And as we shall then have both Paris and Menelaus within 
 our call, so we will have the same fair Helen also whoee fickle- 
 ness has caused this broil. Vamey, thy wife must be at 
 Kenilworth, and forthcoming at my order. My Lord of 
 Leicester, we expect you will look to this." 
 
 The earl and his follower bowed low, and raised their heads, 
 without daring to look at the Queen or at each other; for both 
 felt at the instant as if the nets and toils which their own 
 falsehood had woven were in the act of closing around them. 
 The Queen, however, observed not their confusion, but pro- 
 ceeded to say, " My Lords of Sussex and Leicester, we require 
 your presence at the privy council to be presently held, where 
 matters of importance are to be debated. We will then take 
 the water for our divertisement, and you, my lords, will attend 
 us. And that reminds us of a circumstance. Do you. Sir 
 Squire of the Soiled Cassock [distinguishing Ealeigh by a 
 smile], fail not to observe that you are to attend us on our 
 progress. You shall be supplied with suitable means to re- 
 form your wardrobe." 
 
 And so terminated this celebrated audience, in which, as 
 throughout her life, Elizabeth united the occasional caprice 
 of her sex with that sense and sound policy in which neither 
 man nor woman ever excelled her. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Well then — our course is chosen, spread the sail, 
 Heave oft the lead and mark the soundings well, 
 Look to the helm, good master ; many a shoal 
 Marks this stern coast, and rocks, where sits the Siren, 
 Who, like ambition, lures men to their ruin. 
 
 —The Shipioreck. 
 
 DuEiN'G the brief interval that took place betwixt the dis- 
 miaeal of the audience and the sitting of the privy council, 
 Leicester had time to reflect that he had that morning sealed 
 his own fate. " It was impossible for him now," he thought, 
 " after having, in the face of all that was honorable in Eng- 
 land, pledged his truth (though in an ambiguous phrase) for 
 the statement of Varney, to contradict or disavow it without 
 exposing himself not merely to the loss of court favor, but to 
 the highest displeasure of the Queen, his deceived mistress, 
 and to the scorn and contempt at once of his rival and of all 
 his compeers." This certainty rushed at once on his mind, 
 together with all the difficulties which he would necessarily 
 be exposed to in preserving a secret which seemed now 
 equally essential to his safety, to his power, and to his honor. 
 He was situated like one who walks upon ice, ready to give 
 way around him, and whose only safety consists in moving 
 onward by firm and unvacillating steps. The Queen's favor, 
 to preserve which he had made such sacrifices, must now be 
 secured by all means and at all hazards: it was the only plank 
 which he could cling to in the tempest. He must settle him- 
 self, therefore, to the task of not only preserving, but aug- 
 menting, the Queen's partiality. He must be the favorite of 
 Elizabeth, or a man utterly shipwrecked in fortune and in 
 honor. All other considerations must be laid aside for the 
 moment, and he repelled the intrusive thoughts which forced 
 on his mind the image of Amy, by sajdng to himself, there 
 would be time to think hereafter how he was to escape from 
 the labyrinth ultimately, since the pilot who sees a Scylla 
 under his bows must not for the time think of the more dis- 
 tant dangers of Charybdis. 
 
 In this mood, the Earl of Leicester that day assumed his 
 chair at the council-table of Elizabeth; and when the hours of 
 business were over, in this same mood did he occupy an hon- 
 
 100 
 
KENILWORTH, 191 
 
 ored place near her during her pleasure-excursion on the 
 Thames. And never did he display to more advantage his 
 powers as a politician of the first rank, or his parts as an ac- 
 complished courtier. 
 
 It chanced that in that day's council matters were agitated 
 touching the affairs of the unfortunate Mary, the seventh 
 year of whose captivity in England was now in doleful cur- 
 rency. There had been opinions in favor of this unhappy 
 princess laid before Elizabeth's council, and supported with 
 much strength of argument by Sussex and others, who dwelt 
 more upon the law of nations and the breach of hospitality 
 than, however softened or qualified, was agreeable to the 
 Queen's ear. Leicester adopted the contrary opinion with 
 great animation and eloquence, and described the necessity of 
 continuing the severe restraint of the Queen of Scots, as a 
 measure essential to the safety of the kingdom, and particu- 
 larly of Elizabeth's sacred person, the lightest hair of whose 
 head, he maintained, ought, in their lordships' estimation, to 
 be matter of more deep and anxious concern than the life and 
 fortunes of a rival, who, after setting up a vain and unjust 
 pretense to the throne of England, was now, even while in the 
 bosom of her country, the constant hope and theme of en- 
 couragement to all enemies to Elizabeth, whether at home or 
 abroad. He ended by craving pardon of their lordships if, 
 in the zeal of speech, he had given any offense, but the 
 Queen^s safety was a theme which hurried him beyond his 
 usual moderation of debate. 
 
 Elizabeth chid him, but not severely, for the weight which 
 he attached unduly to her personal interests; yet she owned 
 that, since it had been the pleasure of Heaven to combine 
 those interests with the weal of her subjects, she did only her 
 duty when she adopted such measures of self-preservation as 
 circumstances forced upon her; and if the council in their 
 wisdom should be of opinion that it was needful to continue 
 some restraint on the person of her unhappy sister of Scot- 
 land, she trusted they would not blame her if she requested 
 of the Countess of Shrewsbury to use her with as much kind- 
 ness as might be consistent with her safe keeping. And with 
 this intimation of her pleasure, the council was dismissed. 
 
 Never was more anxious and ready way made for "my 
 Lord of Leicester" than as he passed through the crowded 
 anterooms to go toward the river-side, in order to attend her 
 Majesty to her barge; never was the voice of the ushers louder, 
 to " Make room — make room for the noble earl '*; never were 
 
 I 
 
192 WAVEBLET NOVELS. 
 
 these signals more promptly and reverently obeyed; never 
 were more anxious eyes turned on him to obtain a glance of 
 favor, or even of mere recognition, while the heart of many a 
 humble follower throbbed betwixt the desire to offer his con- 
 gratulations and the fear of intruding himself on the notice 
 of one so infinitely above him. The whole court considered 
 the issue of this day's audience, expected with so much doubt 
 and anxiety, as a decisive triumph on the part of Leicester, 
 and felt assured that the orb of his rival satellite, if not alto- 
 gether obscured by his luster, must revolve hereafter in a 
 dimmer and more distant sphere. So thought the court and 
 courtiers, from high to low, and they acted accordingly. 
 
 On the other hand, never did Leicester return the general 
 greeting with such ready and condescending courtesy, or 
 endeavor more successfully to gather, in the words of one who 
 at that moment stood at no great distance from him, " golden 
 opinions from all sorts of men." 
 
 For all the favorite earl had a bow, a smile at least, and 
 often a kind word. Most of these were addressed to courtiers, 
 whose names have long gone down the tide of oblivion; but 
 some to such as sound strangely in our ears, when connected 
 with the ordinary matters of human life, above which the 
 gratitude of posterity has long elevated them. A few of 
 Leicester's interlocutory sentences ran as follows: 
 
 " Poynings, good morrow, and how does your wife and fair 
 daughter? Why come they not to court? Adams, your suit 
 is naught: the Queen will grant no more monopolies; but I 
 may serve you in another matter. My good Alderman Ayl- 
 ford, the suit of the city, affecting Queenhithe, shall be for- 
 warded as far as my poor interest can serve. Master Ed- 
 mund Spencer, touching your Irish petition, I would will- 
 ingly aid you, from my love to the Muses; but thou hast 
 nettled the lord treasurer." 
 
 "My lord," said the poet, "were I permitted to ex- 
 plain " 
 
 " Come to my lodging, Edmund," answered the earl — " not 
 to-morrow or next day, but soon. Ha., Will Shakspere — wild 
 Will! thou hast given my nephew, Philip Sidney, love- 
 powder: he cannot sleep without thy ' Venus and Adonis ' 
 under his pillow! We will have thee hanged for the veriest 
 wizard in Europe. Hark thee, mad wag, I have not forgotten 
 thy matter of the patent and of the bears." 
 
 The player bowed, and the earl nodded and parsed on — 
 ■0 that a^e would have told the tale; in ours, perhaps, we 
 
KENILWORTH. 193 
 
 might say the immortal had done homage to the mortal. 
 The next whom the favorite accosted was one of his own 
 zealous dependents. 
 
 " How now. Sir Francis Denning," he whispered, in answer 
 to his exulting salutation, "that smile hath made thy face 
 shorter by one-third than when I first saw it this morning. 
 What, Master Bowyer, stand you back, and think you I bear 
 malice? You did but your duty this morning; and if I re- 
 member aught of the passage betwixt us, it shall be in thy 
 favor." 
 
 Then the earl was approached, with several fantastic con- 
 gees, by a person quaintly dressed in a doublet of black velvet, 
 curiously slashed and pinked with crimson satin. A long 
 cock^s feather in the velvet bonnet which he held in his hand, 
 and an enormous ruff, stiffened to the extremity of the ab- 
 surd taste of the times, joined with a sharp, lively, conceited 
 expression of countenance, seemed to body forth a vain, hare- 
 brained coxcomb and small wit; while the rod he held, and 
 an assumption of formal authority, appeared to express some 
 sense of official consequence which qualified the natural pert- 
 ness of his manner. A perpetual blush, which occupied 
 rather the sharp nose than the thin cheek of this personage, 
 seemed to speak more of " good life," as it was called, than of 
 modesty; and the manner in which he approached to the earl 
 confirmed that suspicion. 
 
 " Good-even to you, Master Robert Laneham," said Leices- 
 ter, and seemed desirous to pass forward without farther 
 speech. 
 
 "I have a suit to your noble lordship," said the figure, 
 boldly following him. 
 
 " And what is it, good master keeper of the council-cham- 
 ber door? " 
 
 " Clerk of the council-chamber door," said Master Robert 
 Laneham, with emphasis, by way of reply and of correction. 
 
 " Well, qualify thine office as thou wilt, man," replied the 
 earl; "what wouldst thou have with me?" 
 
 " Simply," answered Laneham, " that your lordship would 
 be, as heretofore, my good lord, and procure me license to 
 attend the summer progress unto your lordship's most beauti- 
 ful and all-to-be unmatched Castle of Kenilworth." 
 
 "To what purpose, good Master Laneham?" replied the 
 earl; " bethink you, my guests must needs be many." 
 
 "Not so many," replied the petitioner, "but that your 
 nobleness will willingly spare your old servitor his crib and 
 
194 WAVERLEY NOYELB,^ 
 
 his mess. Bethink* you, my lord, how necessary is this rod of 
 mine to fright away all those listeners who else would play at 
 bo-peep with the honorable council, and be searching for key- 
 holes and crannies in the door of the chamber, so as to render 
 my staff as needful as a fly-flap in a butcher's shop/' 
 
 " Methinks you have found out a fly-blown comparison for 
 the honorable council. Master Laneham," said the earl; " but 
 seek not about to justify it. Come to Kenilworth, if you list; 
 there will be store of fools there besides, and so you will be 
 fitted." 
 
 " Nay, an there be fools, my lord," replied Laneham, with 
 much glee, " I warrant I will make sport among them; for no 
 greyhound loves to cote a hare as I to turn and course a fool. 
 But I have another singular favor to beseech of your honor." 
 
 " Speak it, and let me go," said the earl; " I think the 
 Queen comes forth instantly." 
 
 " My very good lord, I would fain bring a bed-fellow with 
 me." 
 
 "How, you irreverent rascal! " said Leicester 
 
 "Nay, my lord, my meaning is within the canons," an- 
 swered his unblushing, or rather his ever-blushing, petitioner. 
 " I have a wife as curious as her grandmother, who eat the 
 apple. Now, take her with me I may not, her Highness' 
 orders being so strict against the officers bringing with them 
 their wives in a progress, and so lumbering the court with 
 womankind. But what I would crave of your lordship is, to 
 find room for her in some mummery or pretty pageant, in 
 disguise, as it were, so that, not being known for my wife, 
 there may be no offense." 
 
 " The foul fiend seize ye both! " said Leicester, stung into 
 uncontrollable passion by the recollections which this speech 
 excited. " Why stop you me with such follies? " 
 
 The terrified clerk of the chamber door, astonished at the 
 burst of resentment he had so unconsciously produced, 
 dropped his staff of office from his hand, and gazed on the in- 
 censed earl with a foolish face of wonder and terror, which 
 instantly recalled Leicester to himself. 
 
 " I meant but to try if thou hadst the audacity which befits 
 thine office," said he hastily. " Come to Kenilworth, and 
 bring the devil with thee if thou wilt." 
 
 "My wife, sir, hath played the devil ere now, in a mystery, in 
 Queen Mary's time; but we shall want a trifle for properties." 
 
 " Here is a crown for thee," said the earl; " make me rid of 
 thee — the great bell rings," , 
 
KBNILWORTH. 195 
 
 Master Kobert Laneham* stared a moment at the agita- 
 tion which he had excited, and then said to himself as he 
 stooped to pick up his staff of office, " The noble earl runs 
 wild humors to-day; but they who give crowns expect us witty 
 fellows to wink at their unsettled starts; and, by my faith, if 
 they paid not for mercy, we would finger them tightly! " 
 
 Leicester moved hastily on, neglecting the courtesies he 
 had hitherto dispensed so liberally, and hurrying through the 
 courtly crowd, until he paused in a small withdrawing-room, 
 into which he plunged to draw a moment's breath unobserved 
 and in seclusion. 
 
 " What am I now," he said to himself, " that am thus jaded 
 by the words of a mean, weather-beaten, goose-brained gull! 
 Conscience, thou art a bloodhound, whose growl wakes as 
 readily at the paltry stir of a rat or mouse as at the step of a 
 lion. Can I not quit myself, by one bold stroke, of a state so 
 irksome, so unhonored? What if I kneel to Elizabeth, and, 
 owning the whole, throw myself on her mercy? " 
 
 As he pursued this train of thought, the door of the apart- 
 ment opened, and Vamey rushed in. 
 
 " Thank God, my lord, that I have found you! " was his 
 exclamation. 
 
 " Thank the devil, whose agent thou art,*' was the earl's 
 reply. 
 
 " Thank whom you will, my lord," said Vamey; " but 
 hasten to the water-side. The Queen is on board, and asks 
 for you." 
 
 " Go, say I am taken suddenly ill," replied Leicester; " for, 
 by Heaven, my brain can sustain this no longer! " 
 
 " I may well say so," said Varney, with bitterness of ex- 
 pression, " for your place, aye, and mine, who, as your master 
 of the horse, was to have attended your lordship, is already 
 filled up in the Queen's barge. The new minion, Walter 
 Raleigh, and our old acquaintance, Tressilian, were called for 
 to fill our places just as I hastened away to seek you." 
 
 " Thou art a devil, Vamey," said Leicester hastily; " but 
 thou hast the mastery for the present: I follow thee." 
 
 Varney replied not, but led the way out of the palace, and 
 toward the river, while his master followed him as if mechan- 
 ically; until, looking back, he said in a tone which savored of 
 familiarity at least, if not of authority, "How is this, my 
 lord? your cloaJi hangs on one side, your hose are unbraced; 
 permit me '' 
 
 * See Note 0. 
 
IM WAVEBLET NOVELS. 
 
 '^ Thou art a fool, Vamey, as well as a knave," said Leices- 
 ter, shaking him off, and rejecting his officious assistance; 
 " we are best thus, sir: when we require you to order our per- 
 son, it is well, but now we want you not." 
 
 So saying, the earl resumed at once his air of command, 
 and with it his self-possession, shook his dress into yet wilder 
 disorder, passed before Vamey with the air of a superior and 
 master, and in his turn led the way to the river-side. 
 
 The Queen's barge was on the very point of putting off; the 
 seat allotted to Leicester in the stem, and that to his master 
 of the horse on the bow, of the boat being already filled up. 
 But on Leicester's approach there was a pause, as if the barge- 
 men anticipated some alteration in their company. The 
 angry spot was, however, on the Queen's cheek, as, in that 
 cold tone with which superiors endeavor to veil their inter- 
 nal agitation, while speaking to those before whom it would 
 be derogation to express it, she pronounced the chilling words 
 — " We have waited, my Lord of Leicester." 
 
 " Madam and most gracious princess," said Leicester, " you 
 who can pardon so many weaknesses which your own heart 
 never knows, can best bestow your commiseration on the agita- 
 tions of the bosom, which, for a moment, affect both head and 
 limbs. I came to your presence a doubting and an accused 
 subject; your goodness penetrated the clouds of defamation, 
 and restored me to my honor, and, what is yet dearer, to your 
 favor — ^is it wonderful, though for me it is most unhappy, 
 that my master of the horse should have found me in a state 
 which scarce permitted me to make the exertion necessary to 
 follow him to this place, when one glance of your Highness, 
 although, alas! an angry one, has had power to do that for me 
 in which Esculapius might have failed? " 
 
 " How is this? " said Elizabeth hastily, looking at Vamey; 
 ^ hath your lord been ill? " 
 
 " Something of a fainting fit," answered the ready-witted 
 Vamey, " as your Grace may observe from his present condi- 
 tion. My lord's haste would not permit me leisure even to 
 bring his dress into order." 
 
 " It matters not," said Elizabeth, as she gazed on the noble 
 face and form of Leicester, to which even the strange mixture 
 of passions by which he had been so lately agitated gave addi- 
 tional interest; " make room for my noble lord. Your place, 
 Master Vamey, has been filled up; you must find a seat in 
 another barge." 
 
 Vamey bowed and withdrew* 
 
KENILWORTH. 197 
 
 *' And you, too, our young Squire of the Cloak," added she, 
 looking at Ealeigh, " must, for the time, go to the barge of 
 our ladies of honor. As for Tressilian, he hath already suf- 
 fered too much by the caprice of women that I should 
 aggrieve him by my change of plan, so far as he is concerned." 
 
 Leicester seated himself in his place in the barge, and close 
 to the sovereign; Raleigh rose to retire, and Tressilian would 
 have been so ill-timed in his courtesy as to offer to relinquish 
 his own place to his friead, had not the acute glance of 
 Raleigh himself, who seemed now in his native element, made 
 him sensible that so ready a disclamation of the royal favor 
 might be misinterpreted. He sate silent, therefore, whilst 
 Raleigh, with a profound bow and a look of the deepest 
 humiliation, was about to quit his place. 
 
 A noble courtier, the gallant Lord Willoughby, read, as he 
 thought, something in the Queen's face which seemed to pity 
 Raleigh's real or assumed semblance of mortification. 
 
 " It is not for us old courtiers," he said, " to hide the sun- 
 shine from the young ones. I will, with her Majesty's leave, 
 relinquish fo/ an hour that which her subjects hold dearest, 
 the delight of her Highness' presence, and mortify myself by 
 walking in starlight, while I forsake for a brief season the 
 glory of Diana's own beams. I will take place in the boat 
 which the ladies occupy, and permit this young cavalier his 
 hour of promised felicity." 
 
 The Queen replied, with an expression betwixt mirth and 
 earnest, " If you are so willing to leave us, my Lord, we can- 
 not help the mortification. But, under favor, we do not trust 
 you — old and experienced as you may deem yourself — with 
 the care of our young ladies of honor. Your venerable age, 
 my lord," she continued, smiling, " may be better assorted 
 with that of my lord treasurer, who follows in the third boat, 
 and whose experience even my Lord Willoughby's may be 
 improved by." 
 
 Lord Willoughby hid his disappointment under a smile, 
 laughed, was confused, bowed, and left the Queen's barge to 
 go on board my Lord Burleigh's. Leicester, who endeav- 
 ored to divert his thoughts from all internal reflection by 
 fixing them on what was passing around, watched this circum- 
 stance among others. But when the boat put off from the 
 shore, when the music sounded from a barge which accom- 
 panied them, when the shouts of the populace were heard 
 from the shore, and all reminded him of the situation in 
 which he was placed, he abstr^ct^ his thoughts ^d feelings 
 
108 WA VERLET NO VEL8. 
 
 by a strong effort from everything but the necessity of main- 
 taining himself in the favor of his patroness, and exerted his 
 talents of pleasing captivation with such success that the 
 Queen, alternately delighted with his conversation and 
 alarmed for his health, at length imposed a temporary silence 
 on him, with playful yet anxious care, lest his flow of spirits 
 should exhaust ham. 
 
 " My lords," she said, " having passed for a time our edict 
 of silence upon our good Leicester, we will call you to counsel 
 on a gamesome matter, more fitted to be now treated of, 
 amidst mirth and music, than in the gravity of our ordinary 
 deliberations. Which of you, my lords,'' said she, smiling, 
 " know aught of a petition from Orson Pinnit, the keeper, as 
 he qualifies himself, of our royal bears? Who stands god- 
 father to his request ? " 
 
 " Marry, with your Grace's good permission, that do I," 
 said the Earl of Sussex. " Orson Pinnit was a stout soldier 
 before he was so mangled by the skenes of the Irish clan Mac- 
 Donough, and I trust your Grace will be, as you always have 
 been, good mistress to your good and trusty servants." 
 
 " Surely," said the Queen, " it is our purpose to be so, and 
 in especial to our poor soldiers and sailors, who hazard their 
 lives for little pay. We would give," she said, with her eyes 
 sparkling, " yonder royal palace of ours to be an hospital for 
 their use, rather than they should call their mistress ungrate- 
 ful. But this is not the question," she said, her voice, which 
 had been awakened by her patriotic feelings, once more sub- 
 siding into the tone of gay and easy conversation; " for this 
 Orson Pinnit's request goes something farther. He com- 
 plains that, amidst the extreme delight with which men haunt 
 the play-houses, and in especial their eager desire for seeing 
 the exhibitions of one Will Shakspere — whom, I think, my 
 lords, we have all heard something of — the manly amusement 
 of bear-baiting is falling into comparative neglect; since men 
 will rather throng to see these roguish players kill each other 
 in jest than to see our royal dogs and bears worry each other 
 in bloody eameet. What say you to this, my Lord of 
 Sussex? " 
 
 "Why, truly, gracious madam," said Sussex, "you must 
 expect little from an old soldier like me in favor of battles in 
 sport, when they are compared with battles in earnest; and 
 yet, by my faith, I wish Will Shakspere no harm. He is a 
 stout man at quarter-staff and single falchion, though, as I 
 Mn told, a halting fellow; and he stood, they say, a tough fight 
 
 i 
 
KENILWORTH. 199 
 
 with the rangers of old Sir Thomas Lucy of Chaxleeot, when 
 he broke his deer-park and kissed his keeper's daughter." 
 
 " I cry you mercy, my Lord of Sussex," said Queen Eliza- 
 beth, interrupting him; " that matter was heard in council, 
 and we will not have this fellow's offense exaggerated: there 
 was no kissing in the matter, and the defendant hath put the 
 denial on record. But what say you to his present practice, 
 my lord, on the stage? for there lies the point, and not in any 
 ways touching his former errors, in breaking parks or the 
 other follies you speak of." 
 
 " Why, truly, madam," replied Sussex, " as I said before, I 
 wish the gamesome, mad fellow no injury. Some of his 
 whoreson poetry — I crave your Grace's pardon for such a 
 phrase — has rung in mine ears as if the lines sounded to boot 
 and saddle. But then it is all froth and folly — no substance 
 or seriousness in it, as your Grace has already well touched. 
 What are half a dozen knaves, with rusty foils and tattered 
 targets, making but a mere mockery of a stout fight, to com- 
 pare to the royal game of bear-baiting, which hath been graced 
 by your Highness' countenance, and that of your royal prede- 
 cessors, in this your princely kingdom, famous for matchless 
 mastiffs and bold bear- wards over all Christendom? Greatly 
 ia it to be doubted that the race of both will decay, if men 
 should throng to hear the lungs of an idle player belch forth 
 nonsensical bombast, instead of bestowing their pence in en- 
 couraging the bravest image of war that can be shown in 
 peace, and that is the sports of the bear-garden. There you 
 may see the bear lying at guard with his red pinky eyes, 
 watching the onset of the mastiff, like a wily captain, who 
 maintains his defense that an assailant may be tempted to 
 venture within his danger. And then comes sir mastiff, like a 
 worthy champion, in full career at the throat of his adversary; 
 and then shall sir bruin teach him the reward for those who, 
 in their over-courage, neglect the policies of war, and, catch- 
 ing him in his arms, strain him to his breast like a lusty 
 wrestler, until rib after rib crack like the shot of a pistolet. 
 And then another mastiff, as bold, but with better aim and 
 sounder judgment, catches sir bruin by the nether lip, and 
 hangs fast, while he tosses about his blood and slaver, and 
 tries in vain to shake Sir Talbot from his hold. And 
 then " 
 
 " Nay, by my honor, my lord," said the Queen, laughing, 
 "you have described the whole so admirably that, had we 
 never seen a bear-baiting, as we have beheld many, and hope^ 
 
200 WAYERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 with Heaven's allowance, to see many more, your words were 
 sufficient to put the whole hear-garden before our eyes. But 
 come, who speaks next in this case? My Lord of Leicester, 
 what say you?" 
 
 ^' Am I then to consider myself as unmuzzled, please your 
 Grace? " replied Leicester. 
 
 " Surely, my lord — that is, if you feel hearty enough to 
 take part in our game," answered Elizabeth; " and yet, when 
 I think of your cognizance of the bear and ragged staff, me- 
 thinks we had better hear some less partial orator." 
 
 "Nay, on my word, gracious princess," said the earl, 
 " though my brother Ambrose of Warwick and I do carry the 
 ancient cognizance your Highness deigns to remember, I 
 nevertheless desire nothing but fair play on all sides; or, as 
 they say, ' Fight dog, fight bear.' And in behalf of the 
 players, I must needs say that they are witty knaves, whose 
 rants and jests keep the minds of the commons from busying 
 themselves with state affairs, and listening to traitorous 
 speeches, idle rumors, and disloyal insinuations. When laen 
 are agape to see how Marlowe, Shakspere, and other play arti- 
 ficers work out their fanciful plots, as they call them, the 
 mind of the spectators is withdrawn from the conduct of 
 their rulers." 
 
 " We would not have the mind of our subjects withdrawn 
 from the consideration of our own conduct, my lord," an- 
 swered Elizabeth; " because, the more closely it is examined, 
 the true motives by which we are guided will appear the more 
 manifest." 
 
 "I have heard, however, madam," said the Dean of St. 
 Asaph's, an eminent Puritan, " that these players are wont, in 
 their plays, not only to introduce profane and lewd expres- 
 sions, tending to foster sin and harlotry, but even to bellow 
 out such reflections on government, its origin and its object, 
 as tend to render the subject discontented, and shake the 
 solid foundations of civil society. And it seems to be, under 
 your Grace's favor, far less than safe to permit these naughty, 
 foul-mouthed knaves to ridicule the godly for their decent 
 gravity, and in blaspheming Heaven, and slandering its 
 earthly rulers, to set at defiance the laws both of God and 
 man." 
 
 " If we could think this were true, my lord," said Elizabeth, 
 " we should give shai-p correction for such offenses. But it 
 is ill arguing against the use of anything from its abuse. 
 And touching this Shakspere, we think there is that in his 
 
KENILWORTH. 201 
 
 plays that is worth twenty bear-gardens; and that this new 
 undertaking of his Chronicles, as he calls them, may enter- 
 tain, with honest mirth, mingled with useful instruction, not 
 only our subjects, but even the generation which may succeed 
 to us." 
 
 " Your Majesty's reign will need no such feeble aid to make 
 it remembered to the latest posterity," said Leicester. " And 
 yet, in his way, Shakspere hath so touched some incidents of 
 your Majesty's happy government as may countervail what 
 has been spoken by his reverence the Dean of St. Asaph's. 
 There are some lines, for example — I would my nephew, 
 Philip Sidney, were here, they are scarce ever out of his 
 mouth — they are spoken in a mad tale of fairies, love-charms, 
 and I wot not what besides; but beautiful they are, however 
 short they may and must fall of the subject to which they 
 bear a bold relation, and Philip murmurs them, I think, even 
 in his dreams." 
 
 " You tantalize us, my lord," said the Queen. " Master 
 Philip Sidney is, we know, a minion of the Muses, and we are 
 pleased it should be so. Valor never shines to more advan- 
 tage than when united with the true taste and love of le$tters. 
 But surely there are some others among our young courtiers 
 who can recollect what your lordship has forgotten amid 
 weightier affairs. Master Tressilian,you are described to me as 
 a worshiper of Minerva — ^remember you aught of these lines?" 
 
 Tressilian's heart was too heavy, his prospects in life too 
 fatally blighted, to profit by the opportunity which the Queen 
 thus offered to him of attracting her attention, but he deter- 
 mined to transfer the advantage to his more ambitious young 
 friend; and, excusing himself on the score of want of recol- 
 lection, he added, that he believed the beautiful verses of 
 which my Lord of Leicester had spoken were in the remem- 
 brance of Master Walter Raleigh. 
 
 At the command of the Queen, that cavalier repeated, with 
 accent and manner which even added to their exquisite deli- 
 cacy of tact and beauty of description, the celebrated vision 
 of Oberon: 
 
 " That very time I saw (but thmi conldst not), 
 Flyins; between the cold moon and the earth, 
 Cupid, all arm'd ; a certain aim he took 
 At a fair vestal, throned by the west ; 
 And loos'd his love-shaft smartly from his bow, 
 As it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts. 
 But I might see young Cupid's fiery shaft 
 Qunch'd in the chaste beams of the watery moon ; 
 And the imperial vot'ress passed on, 
 In maiden meditation, fancy fre«.'* 
 
203 WA YERLEY NO YEL8. 
 
 The voice of Raleigh, as he repeated the last lines, became a 
 little tremulous, as if diffident how the sovereign to whom the 
 homage was addressed might receive it, exquisite as it was. 
 If this diffidence was affected, it was good policy; but if real, 
 there was little occasion for it. The verses were not probably- 
 new to the Queen, for when was ever such elegant flattery 
 long in reaching the royal ear to which it was addressed? 
 But they were not the less welcome when repeated by such a 
 speaker as Raleigh. Alike delighted with the matter, the 
 manner, and the graceful form and animated countenance of 
 the gallant young reciter, Elizabeth kept time to every ca- 
 dence with look and with finger. When the speaker had 
 ceased, she murmured over the last lines as if scarce conscious 
 that she was overheard, and as she uttered the words, 
 
 *• In maiden meditation, fancy free." 
 
 she dropt into the Thames the supplication of Orson Pinnit, 
 keeper of the royal bears, to find more favorable acceptance 
 at Sheemess, or wherever the tide might waft it. 
 
 Leicester was spurred to emulation by the success of the 
 young courtier's exhibition, as the veteran racer is roused 
 when a high-mettled colt passes him on the way. He turned 
 the discourse on shows, banquets, pageants, and on the char- 
 acter of those by whom these gay scenes were then frequented. 
 He mixed acute observation with light satire, in that just pro- 
 portion which was free alike from malignant slander and in- 
 sipid praise. He mimicked with ready accent the manners 
 of the affected or the clownish, and made his own graceful 
 tone and manner seem doubly such when he resumed it. 
 Foreign countries — their customs, their manners, the rules of 
 their courts, the fashions, and even the dress, of their ladies, 
 were equally his theme; and seldom did he conclude without 
 conveying some compliment, always couched in delicacy and 
 expressed with propriety, to the Virgin Queen, her court, and 
 her government. Thus passed the conversation during this 
 pleasure voyage, seconded by the rest of the attendants upon 
 the royal person, in gay discourse, varied by remarks upon 
 ancient classics and modern authors, and enriched by maxims 
 of deep policy and sound morality by the statesmen and sages 
 who sate around, and mixed wisdom with the lighter talk of 
 a female court. 
 
 When they returned to the palace, Elizabeth accepted, or 
 rather selected, the arm of Leicester to support her from the 
 stairs where they landed to the great gat'^ It even seemed to 
 
KENILWORTff. ^05 
 
 him (though that might arise from the flattery of his own 
 imagination) that, during this short passage, she leaned on 
 him somewhat more than the slippiness of the way neces- 
 sarily demanded. Certainly her actions and words combined 
 to express a degree of favor which, even in his proudest days, 
 he had not till then attained. His rival, indeed, was re- 
 peatedly graced by the Queen^s notice; but it was in a man- 
 ner that seemed to flow less from spontaneous inclination 
 than as extorted by a sense of his merit. And, in the opinion 
 of many experienced courtiers, all the favor she showed him 
 was overbalanced by her whispering in the ear of the Lady 
 Derby, that " Now she saw sickness was a better alchemist 
 than she before wotted of, seeing it had changed my Lord of 
 Sussex^s copper nose into a golden one." 
 
 The jest transpired, and the Earl of Leicester enjoyed his 
 triumph, as one to whom court favor had been both the pri- 
 mary and the ultimate motive of life, while he forgot in the 
 intoxication of the moment the perplexities and dangers of 
 his own situation. Indeed, strange as it may appear, he 
 thought less at that moment of the perils arising from his 
 secret union than of the marks of grace which Elizabeth from 
 time to time showed to young Raleigh. They were indeed 
 transient, but they were conferred on one accomplished in 
 mind and body with grace, gallantry, literature, and valor. 
 An accident occurred in the course of the evening which riv- 
 eted Leicester's attention to this object. 
 
 The nobles and courtiers who had attended the Queen on 
 her pleasure expedition were invited, with royal hospitality, 
 to a splendid banquet in the hall of the palace. The table 
 was not, indeed, graced by the presence of the sovereign; for, 
 agreeable to her idea of what was at once modest and digni- 
 fied, the Maiden Queen on such occasions was wont to take in 
 private, or with one or two favorite ladies, her light and tem- 
 perate meal. After a moderate interval, the court again met 
 in the splendid gardens of the palace; and it was while thus 
 engaged that the Queen suddenly asked a lady, who was near 
 to her both in place and favor, what had become of the young 
 Squire Lack-Cloak. 
 
 The Lady Paget answered, " She had seen Master Raleigh 
 but two or three minutes since, standing at the window of a 
 small pavilion or pleasure-house which looked out on the 
 Thames, and writing on the glass with a diamond ring." 
 
 " That ring," said the Queen, " was a small token I gave 
 him, to make amends f o^r his spoiled mantie. Come, Paget. 
 
904 WA VERLET NO VELS. 
 
 let us see what use he has made of it, for I can see through 
 him already. He is a miarvelously sharp-witted spirit." 
 
 They went to the spot, within sight of which, but at some 
 distance, the young cavalier still lingered, as the fowler 
 watches the net which he has set. The Queen approached 
 the window, on which Raleigh had used her gift to inscribe 
 the following line: 
 
 " Fain would I climb, but that I fear to fall." 
 
 The Queen smiled, read it twice over, once with delibera- 
 tion to Lady Paget, and once again to herself. " It is a 
 pretty beginning," she said, after the consideration of a mo- 
 ment or two; " but methinks the muse hath deserted the 
 young wit at the very outset of his task. It were good- 
 natured, were it not. Lady Paget, to complete it for him? 
 Try your rhyming faculties." 
 
 Lady Paget, prosaic from her cradle upward, as ever any 
 lady of the bedchamber before or after her, disclaimed all 
 possibility of assisting the young poet. 
 
 " Nay, then, we must sacrifice to the Muses ourselves," said 
 Elizabeth. 
 
 " The incense of no one can be more acceptable," said Lady 
 Paget; " and your Highness will impose such obligation on 
 the ladies of Parnassus " 
 
 " Hush, Paget," said the Queen, " you speak sacrilege 
 against the immortal Nine; yet, virgins themselves, they 
 should be exorable to a virgin Queen; and, therefore, let me 
 see how runs his verse: 
 
 *' * Fain would I climb, but that I fear to fall.' 
 
 Might not the answer, for fault of a better, run thus: 
 
 " If thy mind fail thee, do not climb at all ? " 
 
 The dame of honor uttered an exclamation of joy and sur- 
 prise at so happy a termination; and certainly a worse has 
 been applauded, even when coming from a less distinguished 
 author. 
 
 The Queen, thus encouraged, took off a diamond ring, and 
 saying, " We will give this gallant some cause of marvel, when 
 when he finds his couplet perfected without his own interfer- 
 ence," she wrote her own line beneath that of Raleigh. 
 
 The Queen left the pavilion; but, retiring slowly, and often 
 looking ba.ck, she could see the young cavalier steal, with the 
 flight of a lapwing, toward the place where he had seen her 
 make a pause. " She stayed but to observe," as she said, " that 
 
KENILWORTH, 205 
 
 her train had taken "; and then, laughing at the circumstance 
 with the Lady Paget, she took the way slowly toward the 
 palace. Elizabeth, as they returned, cautioned her com- 
 panion not to mention to anyone the aid which she had given 
 to the young poet, and Lady Paget promised scrupulous 
 secrecy. It is to be supposed that she made a mental reser- 
 vation in favor of Leicester, to whom her ladyship transmitted 
 without delay an anecdote so little calculated to give him 
 pleasure. 
 
 Raleigh, in the meanwhile, stole back to the window, and 
 read, with a feeling of intoxication, the encouragement thus 
 given him by the Queen in person to follow out his ambitious 
 career, and returned to Sussex and his retinue, then on the 
 point of embarking to go up the river, his heart beating high 
 with gratified pride and with hope of future distinction. 
 
 The reverence due to the person of the earl prevented any 
 notice being taken of the reception he had met with at court, 
 until they had landed, and the household were assembled in 
 the great hall at Say's Court; while that lord, exhausted by 
 his late illness and the fatigues of the day, had retired to his 
 chamber, demanding the attendance of Wayland, his success- 
 ful physician. Wayland, however, was nowhere to be found; 
 and, while some of the party were, with military impatience, 
 seeking him, and cursing his absence, the rest flocked around 
 Raleigh to congratulate nim on his prospects of court favor. 
 
 He had the good taste and judgment to conceal the deci- 
 sive circumstance of. the couplet, to which Elizabeth had 
 deigned to find a rhyme; but other indications had transpired 
 which plainly intimated that he had made some progress in 
 the Queen's favor. All hastened to wish him joy on the 
 mended appearance of his fortune — some from real regard; 
 some, perhaps, from hopes that his preferment might hasten 
 their own; and most from a mixture of these motives, and a 
 sense that the countenance shown to any one of Sussex's 
 household was, in fact, a triumph to the whole. Raleigh re- 
 turned the kindest thanks to them all, disowning, with be- 
 coming modesty, that one day's fair reception made a favorite, 
 any more than one swallow a summer. But he observed that 
 Blount did not join in the general congratulation, and, some- 
 what hurt at his apparent unkindness, he plainly asked him 
 the reason. 
 
 Blount replied with equal sincerity — '' My good Walter, I 
 wish thee as well as do any of these chattering gulls, who are 
 whistling and whooping gratulations in thine ear, because it 
 
206 WAVERLE7 KorELS, 
 
 seems fair weather with thee. But I fear for thee, Walter 
 [and he wiped his honest eye] — I fear for thee with all my 
 heart. These court tricks, and gambols, and flashes of fine 
 women's favor, are the tricks and trinkets that bring fair for- 
 tunes to farthings, and fine faces and witty coxcombs to the 
 acquaintance of dull block and sharp axes." 
 
 So saying, Blount arose and left the hall, while Ealeigh 
 looked after him with an expression that blanked for a mo- 
 ment his bold and animated countenance. 
 
 Stanley just then entered the hall, and said to Tressilian, 
 '' My lord is calling for your fellow Wayland, and your fellow 
 Wayland is just come hither in a sculler, and is calling for 
 you, nor will he go to my lord till he sees you. The fellow 
 looks as he were mazed, methinks. I would you would see 
 him immediately.'' 
 
 Tressilian instantly left the hall, and causing Wayland 
 Smith to be shown into a withdrawing-apartment, and lights 
 placed, he conducted the artist thither, and was surprised 
 when he observed the emotion of his countenance. 
 
 "What is the matter with you. Smith?" said Tressilian; 
 " have you seen the devil? " 
 
 " Worse, sir — worse," replied Wayland, " I have seen a 
 basilisk. Thank God, I saw him first, for, being so seen, and 
 seeing not me, he will do the less harm." 
 
 " In God's name, speak sense," said Tressilian, " and say 
 what you mean! " 
 
 " I have seen my old master," said the artist. " Last night, 
 a friend whom I had acquired took me to see the palace clock, 
 judging me to be curious in such works of art. At the win- 
 dow of a turret next to the clock-house I saw my old master." 
 
 " Thou must needs have been mistaken," said Tressilian. 
 
 " I was not mistaken," said Wayland. " He that once 
 hath his features by heart would know him amongst a mil- 
 Kon. He was anticly habited; but he cannot disguise himself 
 from me, God be praised! as I can from him. I will not, how- 
 ever, tempt Providence by remaining within his ken. Tarle- 
 ton the player himself could not so disguise himself but that, 
 sooner or later, Doboobie would find him out. I must away 
 to-morrow; for, as we stand together, it were death to me to 
 remain within reach of him." 
 
 " But the Earl of Sussex? " said Tressilian. 
 
 " He is in little danger from what he has hitherto taken, 
 provided he swallow the matter of a bean's size of the orvie- 
 tan every morning fasting; but let him beware of a relapse." 
 
KENILWOETH. 207 
 
 "And how is that te be guarded against? " said Tressilian. 
 
 " Only by such caution as you would use against the devil," 
 answered Wayland. " Let my lord's clerk of the kitchen kill 
 his lord's meat himself, and dress it himself, using no spice 
 but what he procures from the surest hands. Let the sewer 
 serve it up himself, and let the master of my lord's household 
 see that both clerk and sewer taste the dishes which the one 
 dresses and the other serves. Let my lord use no perfumes 
 which come not from well accredited persons — no unguents — 
 no pomades. Let him, on no account, drink with strangers, 
 or eat fruit with them, either in the way of nooning or other- 
 wise. Especially, let him observe such caution if he goes to 
 Kenilworth: the excuse of his illness, and his being under 
 diet, will, and must, cover the strangeness of such practice." 
 
 " And thou," said Tressilian, " what dost thou think to 
 make of thyself?" 
 
 "France, Spain, either India, East or West, shall be my 
 refuge," said AVayland, " ere I venture my life by residing 
 within ken of Doboobie, Demetrius, or whatever else he calls 
 himself for the time." 
 
 " Well," said Tressilian, " this happens not inopportunely. 
 I had business for you in Berkshire, but in the opposite ex- 
 tremity to the place where thou art known; and ere thou 
 hadst found out this new reason for living private, I had 
 settled to send thee thither upon a secret embassage." 
 
 The artist expressed himself willing to receive his com- 
 mands, and Tressilian, knowing he was well acquainted with 
 the outline of his business at court, frankly explained to him 
 the whole, mentioned the agreement which subsisted betwixt 
 Giles Gosling and him, and told what had that day been 
 averred in the presence-chamber by Vamey, and supported by 
 Leicester. 
 
 " Thou seest," he added, " that, in the circumstances in 
 which I am placed, it behoves me to keep a narrow watch on 
 the motions of these unprincipled men, Varney and his com- 
 plices, Foster and Lamboume, as well as on those of my Lord 
 Leicester himself, who, I suspe<rt, is partly a deceiver, and not 
 altogether the deceived in that matter. Here is my ring, as a 
 pledge to Giles Gosling; here is,, besides, gold, which shall be 
 trebled if thou serve me faithfully. Away down to Cumnor, 
 and see what happens there." 
 
 "I go with double good- will," said the artist, "first, be- 
 cause I serve your honor, who has been so kind to me, and 
 then, that I may escape my old master, who, if not an abso- 
 
208 WAV^BLEY NOVELS. 
 
 lute incarnation of the devil, has, at least, as much of the 
 demon about him, in will, word, and action, as ever polluted 
 humanity. And yet let him take care of me. I fly him now, 
 as heretofore; but if, like the Scottish wild cattle,* I am vexed 
 by frequent pursuit, I may turn on him in hate and despera- 
 tion. Will your honor command my nag to be saddled? I 
 will but give the medicine to my lord, divided in its proper 
 proportions, with a few instructions. His safety will then 
 depend on the care of his friends and domestics: for the past 
 he is guarded, but let him beware of the future." 
 
 Wa3dand Smith accordingly made his farewell visit to the 
 Earl of Sussex, dictated instructions as to his regimen and 
 precautions concerning his diet, and left Say's Court without 
 waiting for morning. 
 
 ♦SoeNotelO. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 The moment comes — 
 It is already come— when thou must write 
 The absolute total of thy life's vast sum. 
 The constellations stand victorious o'er thee, 
 The planets shoot good fortune in fair junctioni, 
 And tell thee, ' Now's the time.' 
 
 — SoHiLiiEB's Wallenstein, by Colebidos. 
 
 When Leicester returned to his lodging, after a day so im- 
 portant and so harassing, in which, after riding out more 
 than one gale, and touching on more than one shoal, his bark 
 had finally gained the harbor with banner displayed, he 
 seemed to experience as much fatigue as a mariner after a 
 perilous storm. He spoke not a word while his chamberlain 
 exchanged his rich court-mantle for a furred night-robe, and 
 when this officer signified that Master Vamey desired to 
 speak with his lordship, he replied only by a sullen nod. 
 Vamey, however, entered, accepting this signal as a permis- 
 sion, and the chamberlain withdrew. 
 
 The earl remained silent and almost motionless in his chair, 
 his head reclined on his hand, and his elbow resting on the 
 table which stood beside him, without seeming to be con- 
 scious of the entrance or of the presence of his confidant. 
 Vamey waited for some minutes until he should speak, de- 
 sirous to know what was the finally predominant mood of a 
 mind through which so many powerful emotions had that day 
 taken their course. But he waited in vain, for Leicester con- 
 tinued still silent, and the confidant saw himself under the 
 necessity of being the first to speak. ^^ May I congratulate 
 your lordship," he said, " on the deserved superiority you 
 have this day attained over your most formidable rival ? " 
 
 Leicester raised his head, and answered sadly, but without 
 anger, "Thou, Varney, whose ready invention has involved 
 me in a web of most mean, and perilous falsehood, knowest 
 best what small reason there is for gratulation on the 
 subject." 
 
 " Do you blame me, my lord," said Vamey, " for not be- 
 traying, on the first push, the secret on which your fortune* 
 depended, and which you. have so oft and so earnestly recom- 
 mended to my safe keeping? Your lordship was present in 
 
 S09 
 
210 WA VERLET NO VELS. 
 
 person, and might have contradicted me and ruined yourself 
 by an avowal of the truth; but surely it was no part of a faith- 
 ful servant to have done so without your commands." 
 
 " I cannot deny it, Vamey/' said the earl, rising and walk- 
 ing across the room; " my own ambition has been traitor to 
 my love." 
 
 "Say, rather, my lord, that your love has been traitor to 
 your greatness, and barred you from such a prospect of honor 
 and power as the world cannot offer to any other. To make 
 my honored lady a countess, you have missed the chance of 
 being yourself " 
 
 He paused, and seemed unwilling to complete the sentence. 
 
 " Of being myself what? " demanded Leicester; " speak out 
 thy meaning, Varney " 
 
 " Of being yourself a KING, my lord," replied Vamey; 
 " and King of England to boot! It is no treason to our 
 Queen to say so. It would have chanced by her obtaining 
 that which all true subjects wish her — a lusty, noble, and 
 gallant husband." 
 
 " Thou ravest, Vamey," answered Leicester. " Besides, 
 our times have seen enough to make men loathe the crown 
 matrimonial which men take from their wives' lap. There 
 was Darnley of Scotland." 
 
 " He! " said Vamey — " a gull, a fool, a thrice-sodden ass, 
 who suffered himself to be fired off into the air like a rocket 
 on a rejoicing-day. Had Mary had the hap to have wedded 
 the noble earl once destined to share her throne, she had 
 experienced a husband of different metal; and her husband 
 had found in her a wife as complying and loving as the mate 
 of the meanest squire, who follows the hounds a-horseback, 
 and holds her husband's bridle as he mounts." 
 
 " It might have been as thou sayst, Vamey," said Leicester, 
 a brief smile of self-satisfaction passing over his anxious 
 countenance. " Henry Darnley knew little of women. With 
 Mary, a man who knew her sex might have had some chance 
 of holding his own; but not with Elizabeth, Vamey; for I 
 think God, when He gave her the heart of a woman, gave her 
 the head of a man to control its follies. No, I know her. She 
 will accept love-tokens — aye, and requite them with the like; 
 put sugared sonnets in her bosom — aye, and answer them too; 
 push gallantry to the very vers:e where it becomes exchange 
 of affection; but she writes ' nil ultra ' to all which is to fol- 
 low, and would not barter one iota of her own supreme power 
 for all the alphabet of both Cupid and Hymen." 
 
KENILWOBTH. 211 
 
 " The better for you, my lord," said Vamey, " that is, in 
 the case supposed, if such be her disposition; since you think 
 you cannot aspire to become her husband. Her favorite you 
 are, and may remain, if the lady at Cumnor Place continues 
 in her present obscurity." 
 
 " Poor Amy! " said Leicester, with a deep sigh; " she de- 
 sires so earnestly to be acknowledged in presence of God and 
 man!" 
 
 " Aye, but, my lord," said Vamey, " is her desire reason- 
 able? that is the question. Her religious scruples are solved: 
 she is an honored and beloved wife, enjoying the society of 
 her husband at such times as his weightier duties permit him 
 to afford her his company. What would she more? I am 
 right sure that a lady so gentle and so loving would consent 
 to live her life through in a certain obscurity — which is, after 
 all, not dimmer than when she was at Lidcote Hall — rather 
 than diminish the least jot of her lord^s honors and greatness 
 by a premature attempt to share them." 
 
 " There is something in what thou say'st," said Leicester; 
 " and her appearance here were fatal. Yet she must be seen 
 at Kenilworth: Elizabeth will not forget that she has so ap- 
 pointed." 
 
 " Let me sleep on that hard point," said Vamey; " I can- 
 not else perfect the device I have on the stithy, which I trust 
 will satisfy the Queen and please my honored lady, yet leave 
 this fatal secret where it is now buried. Has your lordship 
 further commands for the night? " 
 
 " I would be alone," said Leicester. " Leave me, and place 
 my steel casket on the table. Be within summons." 
 
 Varney retired; and the earl, opening the window of his 
 apartment, looked out long and anxiously upon the brilliant 
 host of stars which glimmered in the splendor of a summer 
 firmament. The words burst from him as at unawares — " I 
 had never more need that the heavenly bodies should befriend 
 me, for my earthly path is darkened and confused." 
 
 It is well known that the age reposed a deep confidence in 
 the vain predictions of judicial astrology, and Leicester, 
 though exempt from the general control of superstition, waa 
 not in this respect superior to his time; but, on the contrary, 
 was remarkable for the encouragement which he gave to the 
 professors of this pretended science. Indeed, the wish to pry 
 into futurity, so general among the human race, is peculiarly 
 to be found amongst those who trade in state mysteries, and 
 the dangerous intrigues and cabals of courts. With heedful 
 
212 WAyEELEY NOVELS. 
 
 precaution to see that it had not been opened, or its locks 
 tampered with, Leicester applied a key to the steel casket, 
 and drew from it, first, a parcel of gold pieces, which he put 
 into a silk purse; then a parchment inscribed wi*th planetary 
 signs, and the lines and calculations used in framing horo- 
 scopes, on which he gazed intently for a few moments; and, 
 lastly, took forth a large key, which, lifting aside the tapestry, 
 he applied to a httle concealed door in the comer of the apart- 
 ment, and, opening it, disclosed a stair constructed in the 
 thickness of the wall. 
 
 " Alasco," said the earl, with a voice raised, yet no higher 
 raised than to be heard by the inhabitant of the small turret 
 to which the stair conducted — " Alasco, I say, descend." 
 
 "I come, my lord," answered a voice from above. The 
 foot of an aged man was heard slowly descending the narrow 
 stair, and Alasco entered the earPs apartment. The astrolo- 
 ger was a little man, and seemed much advanced in age, for 
 his beard was long and white, and reached over his black 
 doublet down to his silken girdle. His hair was of the same 
 venerable hue. But his eyebrows were as dark as the keen 
 and piercing black eyes which they shaded, and this peculi- 
 arity gave a wild and singular cast to the physiognomy of the 
 old man. His cheek was still fresh and ruddy, and the eyes 
 we have mentioned resembled those of a rat in acuteness, and 
 even fierceness, of expression. His manner was not without 
 a sort of dignity; and the interpreter of the sitars, though 
 respectful, seemed altogether at his ease, and even assumed a 
 tone of instruction and command in conversing with the 
 prime favorite of Elizabeth. 
 
 " Your prognostications have failed, Alasco," said the earl, 
 when they had exchanged salutations. " He is recovering." 
 
 " My son," replied the astrologer, " let me remind you, I 
 warranted not his death; nor is there any prognostication that 
 can be derived from the heavenly bodies, their aspects, and 
 their conjunctions, which is not liable to be controlled by the 
 will of Heaven. 'Astra regunt homines, sed regit astra 
 Deus.' " 
 
 " Of what avail, then, is your mystery? " inquired the earl. 
 
 " Of much, my son," replied the old man, " since it can 
 show the natural and probable course of events, although that 
 course moves in subordination to an Higher Power. Thus, 
 in reviewing the horoscope which your lordship subjected to 
 my skill, you will observe that Saturn, being in the sixth 
 house in opposition to Mars, retrogade in the House of Life. 
 
KENILWORTH. 213 
 
 cannot but denote long and dangerous sickness, the issue 
 whereof is in the will of Heaven, though death may probably 
 be inferred. Yet, if I knew the name of the party, I would 
 erect another scheme." 
 
 " His name is a secret," said the earl; " yet, I must own, thy 
 prognostication hath not been unfaithful. He has been sick, 
 and dangerously so — not, however, to death. But hast thou 
 again cast my horoscope, as Varney directed thee, and art 
 thou prepared to say what the stars tell of my present 
 fortune? " 
 
 " My art stands at your command," said the old man; " and 
 here, my son, is the map of thy fortunes, brilliant in aspect 
 as ever beamed from those blessed signs whereby our life is 
 influenced, yet not uncheckered with fears, difficulties, and 
 dangers." 
 
 " My lot were more than mortal were it otherwise," said the 
 earl; " proceed, father, and believe you speak with one ready 
 to undergo his destiny in action and in passion as may be- 
 seem a noble of England." 
 
 " Thy courage to do and to suffer must be wound up yet 
 a strain higher," said the old man. " The stars intimate yet 
 a prouder title, yet an higher rank. It is for thee to guesa 
 their meaning, not for me to name it." 
 
 " Name it, I conjure you — name it, I command you," said 
 the earl, his eyes brightening as he spoke. 
 
 " I may not, and I will not," replied the old man. " The 
 ire of princes is as the wrath of the lion. But mark, and 
 judge for thyself. Here Venus, ascendant in the House of 
 Life, and conjoined with Sol, showers down that flood of 
 silver light, blent with gold, which promises power, wealth, 
 dignity, all that the proud heart of man desires, and in such 
 abundance, that never the future Augustus of tha/t old and 
 mighty Eome heard from his ' haruspices ' such a tale of 
 glory as from this rich text my lore might read to my favorite 
 son." 
 
 " Thou dost but jest with me, father," said the earl, aston- 
 ished at the strain of enthusiasm in which the astrologer 
 delivered his prediction. 
 
 " Is it for him to jest who hath his eye on heaven, who 
 hath his foot in the grave ? " returned the old man solemnly. 
 
 The earl made two or three strides through the apartment, 
 with his hand outstretched, as one who follows the beckoning 
 signal of soihe phantom, waving him on to deeds of high im- 
 port. As he turned, however, he caught the eye of the 
 
214 WAVEBLET NOVELS. 
 
 astrologer fixed on him, while an observing glance of the 
 most shrewd penetration shot from under the penthouse of 
 his shaggy dark eyebrows. Leicester's haughty and sus- 
 picious soul at once caught fire; he darted toward the old 
 man from the further end of the lofty apartment, only stand- 
 ing still when his extended hand was within a foot of the 
 astrologer's body. 
 
 " Wretch! " he said, " if you dare to palter with me, I will 
 have your skin stripped from your living fiesh! Confess 
 thou hast been hired to deceive and to betray me — ^that thou 
 art a cheat, and I thy silly prey and booty! " 
 
 The old man exhibited some symptoms of emotion, but not 
 more than the furious deportment of his patron might have 
 extorted from innocence itself. 
 
 "What means this violence, my lord?" he answered, "or 
 in what can I have deserved it at your hand? " 
 
 " Give me proof," said the earl vehemently, " that you have 
 not tampered with mine enemies." 
 
 " My lord," replied the old man, with dignity, " you can 
 have no better proof than that which you yourself elected. 
 In that turret I have spent the last twenty-four hours, under 
 the key which has been in your custody. The hours of dark- 
 ness I have spent in gazing on the heavenly bodies with these 
 dim eyes, and during those of light I have toiled this aged 
 brain to complete the calculation arising from their combina- 
 tions. Earthly food I have not tasted — earthly voice I have 
 not heard. You are yourself aware I had no means of doing 
 so; and yet I tell you — I who have been thus shut up in soli- 
 tude and study — that within these twenty-four hours your 
 star has become predominant in the horizon, and either the 
 bright book of heaven speaks false or there must have been a 
 proportionate revolution in your fortunes upon earth. If 
 nothing has happened within that space to secure your power 
 or advance your favor, then am I indeed a cheat, and the 
 divine art, which was first devised in the plains of ChaJdea, 
 is a foul imposture." 
 
 "It is true," said Leicester, after a moment's reflection, 
 "thou wert closely immured, and it is also true that the 
 change has taken place in my situation which thou say'st the 
 horoscope indicates." 
 
 " Wherefore this distrust, then, my son? " said the astrolo- 
 ger, assuming a tone of admonition; " the celestial intelli- 
 gences brook not diffidence, even in their favorites." 
 
 "Peace, father," answered Leicester, "I have erred in 
 
KENILWORTH. 216 
 
 doubting thee. Not to mortal man, nor to celestial intelli- 
 gence — under that which is supreme — will Dudley's lips say 
 more in condescension or apology. Speak rather to the 
 present purpose. Amid these bright promises, thou hast said 
 there was a threatening aspect. Can thy skill tell whence, or 
 by whose means, such danger seems to impend? '^ 
 
 " Thus far only," answered the astrologer, " does my art 
 enable me to answer your query. The infortune is threatened 
 by the malignant and adverse aspect, through means of 
 a youth, and, as I think, a rival; but whether in love or in 
 prince's favor, I know not; nor can I give farther indica- 
 tion respecting him, save that he comes from the western 
 quarter." 
 
 " The western — ha! " replied Leicester, "it is enough; the 
 tempest does indeed brew in that quarter. Cornwall and 
 Devon — Ealeigh and Tressilian — one of them is indicated; I 
 must beware of both. Father, if I have done thy skill in- 
 justice, I will make thee a lordly recompense." 
 
 He took a purse of gold from the strong casket which stood 
 before him. " Have thou double the recompense which 
 Varney promised. Be faithful — be secret — obey the direc- 
 tions thou shalt receive from my master of the horse, and 
 grudge not a little seclusion or restraint in my cause; it shall 
 be richly considered. Here, Varney, conduct this venerable 
 man to thine own lodging; tend him heedfuliy in all things, 
 but see that he holds communication with no one." 
 
 Varney bowed, and the astrologer kissed the earl's hand in 
 token of adieu, and followed the master of the horse -to an- 
 other apartment, in which were placed wine and refreshments 
 for his use. 
 
 The astrologer sat down to his repast, while Varney shut 
 two doors with great precaution, examined the tapestry, lest 
 any listener lurked behind it; and then sitting down opposite 
 to the sage, began to question him. 
 
 " Saw you my signal from the court beneath ? " 
 
 " I did," said Alasco, for by such name he was at present 
 called, " and shaped the horoscope accordingly." 
 
 " And it passed upon the patron without challenge? " con- 
 tinued Varney. 
 
 " Not without challenge," replied the old man, '^ but it did 
 pass; and I added, as before agreed, danger from a discovered 
 secret and a western youth." 
 
 " My lord's fear will stand sponsor to the one and his con- 
 science to the other of these prognostications," replied Var- 
 
21« WAVEBLET NOVELS. 
 
 ney. " Sure, never man choee to run such a race as his, yet 
 continued to retain those silly scruples! I am fain to cheat 
 him to his own profit. But touching your matters, sage in- 
 terpreter of the stars, I can tell you more of your own fortune 
 than plan or figure can show. You must be gone from hence 
 forthwith." 
 
 " I will not," said Alasco peevishly. " I have been too much 
 hurried up and down of late — immured for day and night in 
 a desolate turret-chamber; I must enjoy my liberty, and pur- 
 sue my studies, which are of more import than the fate of 
 fifty statesmen and favorites, that rise and burst like bubbles 
 in the atmosphere of a court." 
 
 " At your pleasure," said Vamey, with a sneer which habit 
 had rendered familiar to his features, and which forms the 
 principal characteristic that painters have assigned to those 
 of Satan — " at your pleasure," he said; " you may enjoy your 
 liberty and your studies until the daggers of Sussex's fol- 
 lowers are clashing within your doublet, and against your 
 ribs." The old man turned pale, and Vamey proceeded. 
 " Wot you not he hath offered a reward for the arch-quack 
 and poison-vender, Demetrius, who sold certain precious 
 spices to his lordship's cook? What! turn you pale, old 
 friend? Does Hali already see an infortune in the House of 
 Life? Why, hark thee, we will have thee down to an old 
 house of mine in the country, where thou shalt live with a 
 hobnailed slave, whom thy alchemy may convert into ducats, 
 for to such conversion alone is thy art serviceable." 
 
 ^' It is false, thou foul-mouthed railer," said Alasco, shak- 
 ing with impotent anger: " it is well known that I have ap- 
 proached more nearly to projection than any hermetic artist 
 who now lives. There are not six chemists in the world who 
 possess so near an approximation to the grand arcanum " 
 
 " Come — come," said Vamey, interrupting him, " what 
 means this, in the name of Heaven? Do we not know one 
 another? I believe thee to be so perfect — so very perfect, in 
 the mystery of cheating, that, having imposed upon all man- 
 kind, thou hast at length, in some measure, imposed upon 
 thyself; and without ceasing to dupe others, hast become a 
 species of dupe to thine own imagination. Blush not for it, 
 man; thou art learned, and shalt have classical comfort: 
 
 " Ne quisquam Ajacem possit superare nisi Ajax. 
 
 No one but thyself could have gulled thee, and thou hast 
 gulled the whole brotherhood of the Rosy Cross beside— none 
 
KENILWORTH. 217 
 
 BO deep in the mystery as thou. But hark thee in thine ear: 
 had the seasoning which spiced Sussex's broth wrought more 
 surely, I would have thought better of the chemical science 
 thou dost boast so highly." 
 
 " Thou art an hardened villain, Vamey," replied Alasco; 
 " many will do those things, who dare not speak of them." 
 
 ^' And many speak of them who dare not do them," an- 
 swered Vamey; " but be not wroth — I will not quarrel with 
 thee. If I did, I were fain to live on eggs for a month, that I 
 might feed without fear. Tell me at once, how came thine 
 art to fail thee at this great emergency? " 
 
 " The Earl of Sussex's horoscope intimates," replied the 
 astrologer, " that the sign of the ascendant being in combus- 
 tion " 
 
 "Away with your gibberish," replied Vamey; "think'st 
 thou it is the patron thou speak'st with? " 
 
 " I crave your pardon," replied the old men, " and swear to 
 you, I know but one medicine that could have saved the earl's 
 life; and as no man living in England knows that antidote 
 save myself, moreover, as the ingredients, one of them in 
 particular, are scarce possible to be come by, I must needs 
 suppose his escape was owing to such a constitution of lungs 
 and vital parts as was never before bound up in a body of 
 clay." 
 
 " There was some talk of a quack who waited on him," said 
 Vamey, after a moment's reflection. " Are you sure there is 
 no one in England who has this secret of thine? " 
 
 " One man there was," said the doctor, " once my servant, 
 who might have stolen this of me, with one or two other 
 secrets of art. But content you. Master Vamey, it is no part 
 of my policy to suffer such interlopers to interfere in my 
 trade. He pries into no mysteries more, I warrant you; for, 
 as I well believe, he hath been wafted to heaven on the wing 
 of a fiery dragon. Peace be with him! But in this retreat 
 of mine, shall I have the use of mine elaboratory? " 
 
 " Of a whole workshop, man," said Vamey; " for a rev- 
 erend father abbot, who was fain to give place to bluff King 
 Hal and some of his courtiers a score of years since, had a 
 chemist's complete apparatus, which he was obliged to leave 
 behind him to his successors. Thou shalt there occupy, and 
 melt, and puff, and blaze, and multiply, until the green 
 dragon become a golden goose, or whatever the newer phrase 
 of the brotherhood may testify." 
 
 " Thou art right, Master Vamey," said the alchemist, set- 
 
218 wavbulbt novels. 
 
 ting his teeth close and grinding them together — " thou art 
 right, even in thy very contempt of right and reason. For 
 what thou say'st in mockery may in sober verity chance to 
 happen ere we meet again. If the most venerable sages of 
 ancient days have spoken the truth; if the most learned of 
 our own have rightly received it; if I have been accepted 
 wherever I traveled, in Germany, in Poland, in Italy, and in 
 the farther Tartary, as one to whom nature has unveiled her 
 darkest secrets; if I have acquired the most secret signs and 
 passwords of the Jewish Cabala, so that the grayest beard in 
 the synagogue would brush the steps to make them clean for 
 me — if all this is so, and if there remains but one step — one 
 little step — betwixt my long, deep, and dark, and subter- 
 ranean progress and that blaze of light which shall show 
 nature watching her richest and her most glorious produc- 
 tions in the very cradle — one step betwixt dependence and the 
 power of sovereignty — one step betwixt poverty and such a 
 sum of wealth as earth, without that noble secret, cannot 
 minister from all her mines in the old or the new-found world 
 — ^if this be all so, is it not reasonable that to this I dedicate 
 my future life, secure, for a brief period of studious patience, 
 to rise above the mean dependence upon favorites and their 
 favorites by which I am now enthralled?" 
 
 "Now, bravo! — bravo! my good father," said Vamey, 
 with the usual sardonic expression of ridicule on his counte- 
 nance; " yet all this approximation to the philosopheris stone 
 wringeth not one single crown out of my Lord Leicester's 
 pouch, and far less out of Eichard Varney^s. We must have 
 earthly and substantial services, man, and care not whom else 
 thou canst delude with thy philosophical charlataary." 
 
 '^ My son Varney," said the alchemist, " the unbelief, gath- 
 ered around thee like a frost-fog, hath dimmed thine acute 
 perception to that which is a stumbling-block to the wise, and 
 which yet, to him who seeketh knowledge with humility, ex- 
 tends a lesson so clear that he who runs may read. Hath not 
 art, think'st thou, the means of completing nature's imperfect 
 concoctions in her attempts to form the precious metals, even 
 as by art we can perfect those other operations, of incubation, 
 distillation, fermentation, and similar processes of an ordinary 
 description, by which we extract life itself out of a senseless 
 e^g, summon purity and vitality out of muddy dregs, or call 
 into vivacity the inert substance of a sluggish liquid ? " 
 
 " I have heard all this before," said Varney, " and my heart 
 is proof against such cant ever since I sent twenty good gold 
 
KENILWOBTH, 219 
 
 pieces — marry, it was in the nonage of my wit — to advance 
 the grand magisterium, all which, God help the while, van- 
 ished ^in fumo/ Since that moment, when I paid for my 
 freedom, I defy chemistry, astrology, palmistry, and every 
 other occult art, were it as secret as hell itself, to unloose the 
 stricture of my purse-strings. Marry, I neither defy the 
 manna of St. Nicholas nor can I dispense with it. Thy first 
 task must be to prepare some when thou get'st down to my 
 little sequestered retreat yonder, and then make as much gold 
 as thou wilt.^' 
 
 " I will make no more of that dose," said the alchemist, 
 resolutely. 
 
 " Then," said the master of the horse, " thou shalt be 
 hanged for what thou hast made already, and so were the 
 great secret forever lost to mankind. Do not humanity this 
 injustice, good father, but e'en bend to thy destiny, and make 
 us an ounce or two of this same stuff, which cannot prejudice 
 above one or two individuals, in order to gain lifetime to dis- 
 cover the universal medicine, which shall clear away all mor- 
 tal diseases at once. But cheer up, thou grave, learned, and 
 most melancholy jackanapes! Hast thou not told me that a 
 moderate portion of thy drug hath mild effects, no ways ulti- 
 mately dangerous to the human frame, but which produces 
 depression of spirits, nausea, headache, an unwillingness to 
 change of place — even such a state of temper as would keep 
 a bird from flying out of a cage were the door left open ? " 
 
 " I have said so, and it is true," said the alchemist; " this 
 effect will it produce, and the bird who partakes of it in such 
 proportion shall sit for a season drooping on her perch, with- 
 out thinking either of the free blue sky or of the fair green- 
 wood, though the one be lighted by the rays of the rising sun 
 and the other ringing with the newly awakened song of all 
 the feathered inhabitants of the forest." 
 
 "And this without danger to life?" said Yamey, some- 
 what anxiously. 
 
 " Aye, so that proportion and measure be not exceeded; and 
 so that one who knows the nature of the manna be ever near 
 to watch the symptoms, and succor in case of need." 
 
 "Thou shalt regulate the whole," said Yamey; "thy re- 
 ward shall be princely, if thou keep'st time and touch, and 
 exceedest not the due proportion, to the prejudice of her 
 health; otherwise thy punishment shall be as signal." 
 
 " The prejudice of her health! " repeated Alasco; " it is, 
 then;, a woman I am. to use my skill upon? " 
 
220 WAVEELEY NOVELS. 
 
 " No, thou fool/' replied Varney; " said I not it was a bird 
 — a reclaimed Linnet, whose pipe might soothe a hawk when 
 in mid stoop ? I see thine eye sparkle, and I know thy heard 
 is not altogether so white as art has made it: that, at least, 
 thou hast been able to transmute to silver. But mark me, 
 this is no mate for thee. This caged bird is dear to one who 
 brooks no rivalry, and far less such rivalry as thine, and her 
 health must over all things be cared for. But she is in the 
 case of being commanded down to yonder Kenil worth revels; 
 and it is most expedient — most needful — most necessary that 
 she fly not thither. Of these necessities and their causes it 
 is not needful that she should know aught, and it is to be 
 thought that her own wish may lead her to combat all ordi- 
 nary reasons which can be urged for her remaining a house- 
 keeper." 
 
 " That is but natural," said the alchemist, with a strange 
 smile, which yet bore a greater reference to the human char- 
 acter than the uninterested and abstracted gaze which his 
 physiognomy had hitherto expressed, where all seemed to 
 refer to some world distant from that which was existing 
 around him. 
 
 " It is so," answered Vamey: " you understand women 
 well, though it may have been long since you were conver- 
 sant amongst them. Well, then, she is not to be contradicted, 
 yet she is not to be humored. Understand me — a slight ill- 
 ness, sufficient to take away the desire of removing from 
 thence, and to make such of your wise fraternity as may be 
 called in to aid recommend a quiet residence at home, will, in 
 one word, be esteemed good service, and remunerated as 
 such." 
 
 " I am not to be asked to affect the House of Life? " said 
 the chemist. 
 
 " On the contrary, we will have thee hanged if thou dost," 
 replied Vamey. 
 
 *^ And I must," added Alasco, " have opportunity to do my 
 turn, and all facilities for concealment or escape, should there 
 be detection?" 
 
 " All — all, and everything, thou infidel in all but the im- 
 possibilities of alchemy. Why, man, for what dost thou take 
 me?" 
 
 The old man rose, and taking a light, walked toward the 
 end of the apartment, where was a door that led to the small 
 sleeping-room destined for his reception during the night. 
 At the door he turned round, and slowly repeated Vamey's 
 
KBNILWORTE. 221 
 
 question ere he answered it. "For what do I take thee, 
 Richard Vamey? Why, for a worse devil than I have been 
 myself. But I am in your toils, and I must serve you till my 
 term be out." 
 
 " Well — well," answered Varney hastily, " be stirring with 
 gray light. It may be we shall not need thy medicine. Do 
 naught till I myself come down. Michael Lamboume shall 
 guide you to the place of your destination." * 
 
 When Vamey heard the adept's door shut and carefully 
 bolted within, he stepped toward it, and with similar precau- 
 tion carefully locked it on the outside, and took the key from 
 the lock, muttering to himself, "Worse than thee, thou 
 poisoning quacksalver and witch-monger, who, if thou art not 
 a bounden slave to the devil, it is only because he disdains 
 such an apprentice! I am a mortal man, and seek by mortal 
 means the gratification of my passions and advancement of 
 my prospecte. Thou art a vassal of hell itself. So ho. Lam- 
 bourne! " he called at another door, and Michael made his 
 appearance, with a flushed cheek and an unsteady step. 
 
 " Thou art drunk, thou villain! " said Vamey to him. 
 
 "Doubtless, noble sir," replied the unabashed Michael, 
 " we have been drinking all even to the glories of the day, and 
 to my noble Lord of Leicester, and his valiant master of the 
 horse. Drunk! odds blades and poniards, he that would re- 
 fuse to swallow a dozen healths on such an evening is a base 
 besognio and a puckfist, and shall swallow six inches of my 
 dagger! " 
 
 " Hark ye, scoundrel," said Vamey, " be sober on the in- 
 stant, I command thee. I know thou canst throw off thy 
 drunken folly, like a fool's coat, at pleasure; and if not, it 
 were the worse for thee." 
 
 Lamboume drooped his head, left the apartment, and re- 
 turned in two or three minutes with his face composed, his 
 hair adjusted, his dress in order, and exhibiting as great a 
 difference from his former self as if the whole man had been 
 changed. 
 
 "Art thou sober now, and dost thou comprehend me?" 
 said Vamey sternly. 
 
 Lamboume bowed in acquiescence. 
 
 "Thou must presently down to Cumnor Place with the 
 reverend man of art who sleeps yonder in the little vaulted 
 chamber. Here is the key, that thou mayst call him betimes. 
 Take another trusty fellow with you. Use him well on the 
 
 • See Dr. Julio. Note 11. 
 
223 WAVERLE7 NOVELS, 
 
 journey, but let him not escape you; pistol him if he attempt 
 it, and I will be your warrant. I will give thee letters to Fos- 
 ter. The doctor is to occupy the lower apartments of the 
 eastern quadrangle, with freedom to use the old elaboratory 
 and its implements. He is to have no access to the lady but 
 such as I shall point out — only she may be amused to see his 
 philosophical jugglery. Thou wilt await at Cumnor Place 
 my farther orders; and, as thou livest, beware of the ale-bench 
 and the aquavitse flask. Each breath drawn in Cumnor Place 
 must be kept severed from common air.^' 
 
 " Enough, my lord — I mean my worshipful master — soon, 
 I trust, to be my worshipful knightly master. You have 
 given me my lesson and my license; I will execute the one 
 and not abuse the other. I will be in the saddle by day- 
 break." 
 
 " Do so, and deserve favor. Stay — ere thou goest, fill me 
 a cup of wine; not out of that flask, sirrah," as Lamboume 
 was pouring out from that which Alasco had left half fin- 
 ished, " fetch me a fresh one." 
 
 Lambourne obeyed, and Vamey, after rinsing his mouth 
 with the liquor, drank a full cup, and said, as he took up a 
 lamp to retreat to his sleeping-apartment, " It is strange — I 
 am as little the slave of fancy as anyone, yet I never speak for 
 a few minutes with this fellow Alasco, but my mouth and 
 lungs feel as if soiled with the fumes of calcined arsenic — 
 pah! " 
 
 So saying, he left the apartment. Lamboume lingered, to 
 drink a cup of the freshly opened flask. ^' It is from St. 
 John's Berg! " he said, as he paused on the draught to enjoy 
 its flavor, " and has the true relish of the violet. But I must 
 forbear it now, that I may one day drink it at my own pleas- 
 ure." And he quaffed a goblet of water to quench the fumes 
 of the Rhenish wine, retired slowly toward the door, made a 
 pause, and then, flnding the temptation irresistible, walked 
 hastily back, and took another long pull at the wine-flask, 
 without the formality of a cup. 
 
 " Were it not for this accursed custom," he said, " I might 
 climb as high as Vamey himself. But who can climb when 
 the room turns round with him like a parish-top? I would 
 the distance were greater, or the road rougher, betwixt my 
 hand and mouth! But I will drink nothing to-morrow save 
 water — nothing save fair water." 
 
CHAPTEE XIX. 
 
 Pistol. And tidings do I bring, and lucky joyg, 
 And happy news of price. 
 
 Falstaff. I prithee now, deliver them like to a man of this world. 
 
 Pistol. A foutra for the world, and worldings base ! 
 I speak of Africa, and golden joys. 
 
 —Henry IV. Part H. 
 
 The public room of the Black Bear at Cumnor, to which 
 the scene of our story now returns, boasted, on the eyening 
 which we treat of, no ordinary assemblage of guests. There 
 had been a fair in the neighborhood, and the cutting mercer 
 of Abingdon, with some of the other personages whom the 
 reader has already been made acquainted with, as friends and 
 customers of Giles Gosling, had already formed their wonted 
 circle around the evening fire, and were talking over the news 
 of the day. 
 
 A lively, bustling, arch fellow, whose pack and oaken ell- 
 wand, studded duly with brass points, denoted him to be of 
 Autolycus^ profession, occupied a good deal of the attention, 
 and furnished much of the amusement of the evening. 
 The peddlers of those days, it must be remembered, were men 
 of far greater importance than the degenerate and degraded 
 hawkers of our modern times. It was by means of these peri- 
 patetic venders that the country trade, in the finer manu- 
 factures used in female dress particularly, was almost entirely 
 carried on; and if a merchant of this description arrived at 
 the dignity of traveling with a pack-horse, he was a person of 
 no small consequence, and company for the most substantial 
 yeoman or franklin whom he might meet in his wanderings. 
 
 The peddler of whom we speak bore, accordingly, an active 
 and unrebuked share in the merriment to which the rafters of 
 the bonny Black Bear of Cumnor resounded. He had his 
 smile with pretty Mistress Cicely, his broad laugh with mine 
 host, and his jest upon dashing Master Goldthred, who, though 
 indec^d without any such benevolent intention on his own 
 part, was the general butt of the evening. The peddler and 
 he were closely engaged in a dispute upon the preference due 
 to the Spanish nether-stocks over the black Gascoigne hose, 
 and mine host had just winked to the guests around him, aa 
 who should say, "You will have mirth presently, my mas- 
 
224 WA VERLET NO VEL8. 
 
 ters/ when the trampling of horses was heard in the court- 
 yard, and the hostler was loudly summoned, with a few of the 
 newest oaths then in vogue to add force to the invocation. 
 Out tumbled Will Hostler, John Tapster, and all the militia 
 of the inn, who had slunk from their posts in order to collect 
 some scattered crumbs of the mirth which was flying about 
 among the customers. Out into the yard sallied mine host 
 himself also, to do fitting salutation to his new guests; and 
 presently returned, ushering into the apartment his own 
 worthy nephew, Michael Lamboume, pretty tolerably drunk, 
 and having under his escort the astrologer. Alasco, though 
 still a little old man, had, by altering his gown to a riding- 
 dress, trimming his beard and eyebrows, and so forth, struck 
 at least a score of years from his apparent age, and might now 
 seem an active man of sixty, or little upward. He appeared 
 at present exceedingly anxious, and had insisted much with 
 Lambourne that they should not enter the inn, but go 
 straight forward to the place of their destination. But Lam- 
 boume would not be controlled. " By Cancer and Capri- 
 corn," he vociferated, " and the whole heavenly host — be- 
 sides all the stars that these blessed eyes of mine have seen 
 sparkle in the southern heavens, to which these northern 
 blinkers are but farthing candles — I will be unkindly for no 
 one's humor — I will stay and salute my worthy uncle here. 
 Chesu! that good blood should ever be forgotten betwixt 
 friends! A gallon of your best, uncle, and let it go round to 
 the health of the noble Earl of Leicester! What! shall we 
 not collogue together, and warm the cockles of our ancient 
 kindness? Shall we not collogue, I say? " 
 
 " With all my heart, kinsman," said mine host, who ob- 
 viously wished to be rid of him; " but are you to stand shot 
 to all this good liquor? " 
 
 This is a question has quelled many a jovial toper, but it 
 moved not the purpose of Lambourne's soul. " Question my 
 means, nuncle ? " he said, producing a handful of mixed gold 
 and silver pieces — " question Mexico and Peru — question the 
 Queen's exchequer — God save her Majesty! She is my good 
 lord's good mistress." 
 
 " Well, kinsman," said mine host, " it is my business to sell 
 wine to those who can buy it. So, Jack Tapster, do me thine 
 office. But I would I knew how to come by money as lightly 
 as thou dost, Mike." 
 
 " Why, uncle," said Lambourne, " I will tell thee a secret. 
 Dost see this little old fellow here? as old and withered a 
 
KEmLWORTH. 225 
 
 chip as ever the devil put into his porridge; and yet, uncle, 
 between you and me, he hath Potosi in that brain of his. 
 'Sblood! he can coin ducats faster than I can vent oaths/' 
 
 "I will have none of his coinage in my purse though, 
 Michael,'' said mine host; " I know what belongs to falsify- 
 ing the Queen's coin." 
 
 " Thou art an ass, uncle, for as old as thou art. Pull me 
 not by the skirts, doctor, thou art an ass thyself to boot; so, 
 being both asses, I tell ye I spoke but metaphorically." 
 ^ " Are you mad? " said the old man; "is the devil in you? 
 Can^you not let us begone without drawing all men's eyes on 
 us • 
 
 "Sayst thou?" said Lambourne. "Thou art deceived 
 now— no man shall see you an J give the word. By Heavens, 
 masters, an anyone dare to look on this old gentleman, I will 
 slash the eyes out of his head with my poniard! So sit down, 
 old friend, and be merry; these are mine ingles — mine an- 
 cient inmates, and will betray no man." 
 
 "Had you not better withdraw to a private apartment, 
 nephew," said Giles Gosling. " You speak strange matter," 
 he added, " and there be intelligencers everywhere." 
 
 "I care not for them," said the magnanimous Michael. 
 
 Intelhgencers! pshaw! I serve the noble Eari of Leicester. 
 Here comes the wine. Fill round. Master Skinker, a carouse 
 to the health of the flower of England, the noble Eari of 
 Leicester! I say, the noble Eari of Leicester! He that does 
 me not reason is a swine of Sussex, and I'll make him kneel 
 to the pledge, if I should cut his hams and smoke them for 
 bacon." 
 
 None disputed a pledge given under such formidable penal- 
 ties; and Michael Lambourne, whose drunken humor was not 
 of course diminished by this new potation, went on in the 
 same wild way, renewing his acquaintance with such of the 
 guests as he had formerly known, and experiencing a recep- 
 tion in which there was now something of deference, mingled 
 with a good deal of fear; for the least servitor of the favorite 
 earl, especially such a man as Lambourne, was, for very suffi- 
 cient reasons, an object both of the one and of the other. 
 
 In the meanwhile, the old man, seeing his guide in this 
 uncontrollable humor, ceased to remonstrate with him, and 
 sitting down in the most obscure comer of the room, called 
 for a small measure of sack, over which he seemed, as it were, 
 to slumber, withdrawing himself as much as possible from 
 general observation, and doinsr nothing which could recall his 
 
226 WAVERLET NOVELS, 
 
 existence to the recollection of his fellow-traveler, who hy 
 this time had got into close intimacy with his ancient com- 
 rade, Goldthred of Abingdon. 
 
 " Never believe me, bully Mike," said the mercer, " if I 
 am not as glad to see thee as ever I was to see a customer's 
 money! Why, thou canst give a friend a sly place at a mask 
 or a revel now, Mike; aye, or, I warrant thee, thou canst say 
 in my lord's ear, when my honorable lord is down in these 
 parts, and wants a Spanish ruff or the like — thou canst say in 
 his ear, * There is mine old friend, young Laurence Goldthred 
 of Abingdon, has as good wares, lawn, tiffany, cambric, and sc 
 forth — aye, and is as pretty a piece of man's flesh, too, as is in 
 Berkshire, and will ruffle it for your lordship with any man 
 of his inches '; and thou mayst say " 
 
 " I can say a hundred d d lies besides, mercer," an- 
 swered Lambourne; " what, one must not stand upon a good 
 word for a friend! " 
 
 " Here is to thee, Mike, with all my heart," said the mercer; 
 " and thou canst tell one the reality of the new fashions too. 
 Here was a rogue peddler but now was crying up the old- 
 fashioned Spanish nether-stocks over the Gascoigne hose, 
 although thou seest how well the French hose set off the leg 
 and knee, being adorned with parti-colored garters and gar- 
 niture in conformity." 
 
 " Excellent — excellent," replied Lambourne; " why, thy 
 limber bit of a thigh, thrust through that bunch of slashed 
 buckram and tiffany, shows like a housewife's distaff when the 
 flax is half spun off! " 
 
 ^' Said I not so ? " said the mercer, whose shallow brain was 
 now overflowed in his turn; " where, then — where be this 
 rascal peddler? — there was a peddler here but now, methinks. 
 Mine host, where the foul fiend is this peddler? " 
 
 " Where wise men should be, Master Goldthred," replied 
 Giles Gosling: " even shut up in his private chamber, telling 
 over the sales of to-day, and preparing for the custom of 
 to-morrow." 
 
 " Hang him, a mechanical chuff! " said the mercer; ''' but 
 for shame, it were a good deed to ease him of his wares — a set 
 of peddling knaves, who stroll through the land, and hurt the 
 established trader. There are good fellows in Berkshire yet, 
 mine host; your peddler may be met withal on Maiden 
 Castle." 
 
 " Aye," replied mine host, laughing, " and he who meets 
 him may meet his match: the peddler is a tall man." 
 
r '■;;■; 
 
 KENILWORTff. 227 
 
 "IsheP'^saidGoldthred. 
 
 " Is he! " replied the host; " aye, by cock and pie, is he — 
 the very peddler he who raddled Robin Hood so tightly, aa 
 the song says: 
 
 " * Now Robin Hood drew his sword so good, 
 The peddler drew his brand, 
 And he hath raddled him Eobin Hood, 
 Till he neither could see nor stand.' " 
 
 "Hang him, foul scroyle, let him pass," said the mercer; 
 "if he be such a one, there were small worship to be won 
 upon him. And now tell me, Mike — my honest Mike, how 
 wears the hollands you won of me? " 
 
 " Why, well, as you may see. Master Goldthred,'' answered 
 Mike; " I will bestow a pot on thee for the handsel. Fill the 
 flagon. Master Tapster." 
 
 " Thou wilt win no more hollands, I think, on such wager, 
 friend Mike," said the mercer; "for the sulky swain, Tony 
 Foster, rails at thee all to naught, and swears you shall ne'er 
 darken his doors again, for that your oaths are enough to 
 blow the roof off a Christian man's dwelling." 
 
 " Doth he say so, the mincing, hypocritical miser? " vocif- 
 erated Lambourne. " Why, then, he shall come down and 
 receive my commands here, this blessed night, under my 
 uncle's roof! And I will ring him such a black sanctus that 
 he shall think the devil hath him by the skirts for a month to 
 come, for barely hearing me." 
 
 " Nay, now the pottle-pot is uppermost, with a witness! " 
 said the mercer. "Tony Foster obey thy whistle! Alas! 
 good Mike, go sleep — go sleep." 
 
 " I tell thee what, thou thin-faced gull," said Michael Lam- 
 bourne, in high chafe, " I will wager thee fifty angels against 
 the first five shelves of thy shop, numbering upward from the 
 false light, with all that is on them, that I make Tony Foster 
 come down to this public-house before we have finished three 
 rounds." 
 
 " I will lay no bet to that amount," said the mercer, some- 
 thing sobered by an offer which intimated rather too private 
 a knowledge, on Lambourne's part, of the secret recesses of 
 his shop — " I will lay no such wager," he said; " but I will 
 stake five angels against thy five, if thou wilt, that Tony Fos- 
 ter will not leave his own roof, or come to alehouse after 
 prayer time, for thee or any man." 
 
 " Content," said Lambourne. " Here, uncle, hold stakes 
 and let one of your infant tapsters trip presently up to the 
 
228 WA VERLEY HOVELS. 
 
 Place, and give this letter to Master Foster, and say that I, 
 his ingle, Michael Lambourne, pray to speak with him at 
 mine uncle's castle here, upon business of grave import. 
 Away with thee, child, for it is now sundown, and the wretch 
 goeth to bed with the birds, to save mutton-suet — faugh! " 
 
 Shortly after this messenger was dispatched — an interval 
 which was spent in drinking and buffoonery — he returned 
 with the answer tha.t Master Foster was coming presently. 
 
 " Won — won! " said Lambourne, darting on the stakes. 
 
 " Not till he comes, if you please,'' said the mercer, inter- 
 fering. 
 
 " Why, 'sblood, he is at the threshold," replied Michael. 
 *^ What said he, boy?" 
 
 " If it please your worship," answered the messenger, " he 
 looked out of window, with a musquetoon in his hand, 
 and when I delivered your errand, which I did with fear and 
 trembling, he said, with a vinegar aspect, that your worship 
 might be gone to the infernal regions." 
 
 " Or to hell, I suppose," said Lambourne; " it is there he 
 disposes of all that are not of the congregation." 
 
 " Even so," said the boy; " I used the other phrase as being 
 the more poetical." 
 
 " An ingenious youth," said Michael; " shalt have a drop 
 to wet thy poetical whistle. And what said Foster next ? " 
 
 " He called me back," answered the boy, " and bid me say, 
 yo-u might come to him, if you had aught to say to him." 
 
 "And what next?" said Lambourne. 
 
 " He read the letter, and seemed in a fluster, and asked if 
 your worship was in drink; and I said you were speaking a 
 little Spanish, as one who had been in the Canaries." 
 
 " Out, you diminutive pint-pot, whelped of an overgrown 
 reckoning! " replied Lambourne — " out! But what said he 
 then?" 
 
 " Why," said the boy, " he muttered, that if he came not, 
 your worship would bolt out what were better kept in; and so 
 he took his old flat cap and threadbare blue cloak, and, as I 
 said before, he will be here incontinent." 
 
 " There is truth in what he said," replied Lambourne, as if 
 speaking to himself. " My brain has played me its old dog's 
 trick; but corragio — let him approach! I have not rolled 
 about in the world for many a day, to fear Tony Foster, be I 
 drunk or sober. Bring me a flagon of cold water, to christen 
 my sack withal." 
 
 While Lambourne, whom the approach of Foster seemed to 
 
KENILWORTE, 229 
 
 have recalled to a sense of his own condition, was busied in 
 preparing to receive him, Giles Gosling stole up to the apart- 
 ment of the peddler, whom he found traversing the room in 
 much agitation. 
 
 " You withdrew yourself suddenly from the company," said 
 the landlord to the guest. 
 
 " It was time, when the devil became one among you," re- 
 plied the peddler. 
 
 " It is not courteous in you to term my nephew by such a 
 name," said Gosling, " nor is it kindly in me to reply to it; 
 and yet, in some sort, Mike may be considered as a limb of 
 Satan."' 
 
 " Pooh, I talk not of the swaggering ruffian," replied the 
 
 peddler; " it is of the other, who, for aught I know But 
 
 when go they? or wherefore come they? " 
 
 " Marry, these are questions I cannot answer," replied the 
 host. " But look you, sir, you have brought me a token from 
 worthy Master Tressilian — a pretty stone it is." He took out 
 the ring, and looked at it, adding, as he put it into his purse 
 again, that it was too rich a guerdon for anything he could 
 do for the worthy donor. He was, he said, in the public line, 
 and it ill became him to be too inquisitive into other folks' 
 concerns; he had already said that he could hear nothing but 
 that the lady lived still at Cumnor Place, in the closest seclu- 
 sion, and, to such as by chance had a view of her, seemed pen- 
 sive, and discontented with her solitude. " But here," he 
 said, " if you are desirous to gratify your master, is the rarest 
 chance that hath occurred for this many a day. Tony Fos- 
 ter is coming down hither, and it is but letting Mike Lam- 
 bourne smell another wine-flask, and the Queen's command 
 would not move him from the ale-bench. So they are fast 
 for an hour or so. Now, if you will don your pack, which 
 will be your best excuse, you may, perchance, win the ear of 
 the old servant, being assured of the master's absence, to let 
 vou try to get some custom of the lady, and then you may 
 learn more of her condition than I or any other can tell 
 you." 
 
 " True — ^very true," answered Wayland, for he it was; " an 
 excellent device, but methinks something dangerous; for, say 
 Foster should return?" 
 
 " Very possible indeed," replied the host. 
 
 " Or say," continued Wayland, " the lady should render me 
 cold thanks for my exertions? " 
 
 "As is not unlikely," replied Giles Gosling. "I marvel 
 
230 WAVEBLEY NOVELS. 
 
 Master Tressilian will take such heed of her that cares not 
 for him." 
 
 " In either case I were foully sped/' said Wayland; " and 
 therefore I do not, on the whole, much relish your device." 
 
 " Nay, hut take me with you, good master serving-man," 
 replied mine host, "this is your master's business and not 
 mine; you best know the risk to he encountered, or how far 
 you are willing to brave it. But that which you will not 
 yourself hazard, you cannot expect others to risk." 
 
 " Hold — hold," said Wayland; " tell me but one thing. 
 Goes yonder old man up to Cumnor? " 
 
 " Surely, I think so," said the landlord; " their servant 
 said he was to take their baggage thither, but the ale-tap has 
 been as potent for him as the sack-spigot has been for 
 Michael." 
 
 " It is enough," said Wayland, assuming an air of resolu- 
 tion — "I will thwart that old villain's projects; my affright 
 at his baleful aspect begins to abate, and my hatred to arise. 
 Help me on with my pack, good mine host. And look to 
 thyself, old Albumazar: there is a malignant influence in thy 
 horoscope, and it gleams from the constellation Ursa Major." 
 
 So saying, he assumed his burden, and, guided by the land- 
 lord through the postern gate of the Black Bear, took the 
 most private way from thence up to Cumnor Plaxse. 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 GUnon. You have of these peddlers, that have more in 'em than you'd think, 
 sister. — Winter's Tale, Act iv. Scene 3. 
 
 In his anxiety to obey the earFs repeated charges of secrecy, 
 as well as from his own unsocial and miserly habits, Anthony 
 Foster was more desirous, by his mode of housekeeping, to 
 escape observation than to resist intrusive curiosity. Thus, 
 instead of a numerous household, to secure his charge and 
 defend his house, he studied, as much as possible, to elude 
 notice by diminishing his attendants; so that, unless when 
 there were followers of the earl or of Vamey in the mansion, 
 one old male domestic and two aged crones, who assisted in 
 keeping the countess' apartments in order, were the only 
 servants of the family. 
 
 It was one of these old women who opened the door when 
 Wayland knocked, and answered his petition to be admitted 
 to exhibit his wares to the ladies of the family with a volley 
 of vituperation, couched in what is there called the "jow- 
 ring " dialect. The peddler found the means of checking this 
 vociferation by slipping a silver groat into her hand, and inti- 
 mating the present of some stuff for a coif, if the lady would 
 buy of his wares. 
 
 " God ield thee, for mine is aw in littocks. Slocket with 
 thy pack into gharn, mon. Her walks in gham." Into the 
 garden she ushered the peddler accordingly, and pointing to 
 an old ruinous garden-house, said, " Yonder he's her, mon — 
 yonder he's her. Zhe will buy changes an zhe loikes stuffs." 
 
 " She has left me to come off as I may," thought Wayland, 
 as he heard the hag shut the garden door behind him. " But 
 they shall not beat me, and they dare not murder me for so 
 little trespass, and by this fair twilight. Hang it, I will on 
 — a brave general never thought of his retreat till he was de- 
 feated. I see two females in the old garden-house yonder; 
 but how to address them? Sta.y — "Will Shakspere, be my 
 friend in need! I will give them a taste of Autolycus." He 
 then sung with a good voice, and becoming audacity, the 
 popular playhouse ditty: 
 
 " Lawn as white as driven snow, 
 Cyprus black as e'er was crow, 
 Gloves as sweet as damask roses, 
 Masks for faces and for noses." 
 
232 WAVEBLET NOVELS. 
 
 " What hath fortune sent us here for an unwonted sight, 
 Janet? " said the lady. 
 
 "^ One of those merchants of vanity called peddlers/' an- 
 swered Janet, demurely, "who utters his light wares in 
 lighter measures. I marvel old Dorcas let him pass." 
 
 " It is a lucky chance, girl," said the countess; " we lead a 
 heavy life here, and this may while off a weary hour." 
 
 " Aye, my gracious lady," said Janet; " but my father? " 
 
 " He is not my father, Janet, nor, I hope, my master," an- 
 swered the lady. " I say, call the man hither; I want some 
 things." 
 
 " Nay," replied Janet, " your ladyship has but to say so in 
 the next packet, and if England can furnish them they will 
 be sent. There will come mischief on't. Pray, dearest lady, 
 let me bid the man begone! " 
 
 " I will have thee bid him come hither," said the countess; 
 '^ or stay, thou terrified fool, I will bid him myself, and spare 
 thee a chiding." 
 
 " Ah! well-a-day, dearest lady, if that were the worst," said 
 Janet, sadly, while the lady called to the peddler, " Good fel- 
 low, step forward — undo thy pack; if thou hast good wares, 
 chance has sent thee hither for my convenience and thy 
 profit." 
 
 " What may your ladyship please to lack? " said Wayland, 
 unstrapping his pack, and displaying its contents with as 
 much dexterity as if he had been bred to the trade. Indeed, 
 he had occasionally pursued it in the course of his roving life, 
 and now commended his- wares with all the volubility of a 
 trader, and showed some skill in the main art of placing 
 prices upon them. 
 
 "What do I please to lack?" said the lady; "why, con- 
 sidering I have not for six long months bought one yard of 
 lawn or cambric, or one trinket, the most inconsiderable, for 
 my own use, and at my own choice, the better question is, 
 what hast thou got to sell? Lay aside for me that cambric 
 partlet and pair of sleeves; and those roundells of gold fringe, 
 drawn out with Cyprus; and that short cloak of cherry-colored 
 fine cloth, garnished with gold buttons and loops. Is it not 
 of an absolute fancy, Janet? " 
 
 "Nay, my lady," replied Janet, "if you consult my poor 
 judgment, it is, methinks, over gaudy for a graceful habit." 
 
 "Now, out upon thy judgment, if it be no brighter, wench," 
 said the countess; "thou shalt wear it thyself for penance 
 sake; and I promise thee the gold buttons, being somewhat 
 
 I 
 
" * What may your ladyship please to lack ? ' said Wayland. 
 
KENILWOBTH. 233 
 
 massive, will comfort thy father, and reconcile him to the 
 cherry-colored body. See that he snap them not away, Janet, 
 and send them to bear company with the imprisoned angela 
 which he keeps captive in his strong box." 
 
 " May I pray your ladyship to spare my poor father! '* said 
 Janet. 
 
 " Nay, but why should anyone spare him that is so sparing 
 of his own nature?" replied the lady. "Well, but tO' our 
 gear. That head garniture for myself, and that silver bod- 
 kin, mounted with pearl; and take off two gowns of that rus- 
 set cloth for Dorcas and Alison, Janet, to keep the old 
 wretches warm against winter comes. And stay, hast thou 
 no perfumes and sweet bags, or any handsome casting-bottles 
 of the newest mode ? " 
 
 " Were I a peddler in earnest, I were a made merchant," 
 thought Wayland, as he busied himself to answer the demands 
 which she thronged one on another, with the eagerness of a 
 young lady who has been long secluded from such a pleasing 
 occupation. " But how to bring her to a moment's serious 
 reflection ? " Then, as he exhibited his choicest collection 
 of essences and perfumes, he at once arrested her attention by 
 observing, that these articles had almost risen to double value, 
 since the magnificent preparations made by the Earl of 
 Leicester to entertain the Queen and court at his princely 
 Castle of Kenilworth. 
 
 "Ha! " said the countess hastily; " that rumor then is true, 
 Janet." 
 
 " Surely, madam," answered Wayland; " and I marvel it 
 hath not reached your noble ladyship's ears. The Queen of 
 England feasts with the noble earl for a week during the sum- 
 me?s progress; and there are many who will tell you England 
 will have a king, and England's Elizabeth — God save her! — 
 a husband, ere the progress be over." 
 
 " They lie like villains! " said the countess, bursting forth 
 impatiently. 
 
 " For God's sake, madam, consider," said Janet, trembling 
 with apprehension; "who would cumber themselves about 
 peddler's tidings? " 
 
 " Yes, Janet! " exclaimed the countess; " right, thou hast 
 corrected me justly. Such reports, blighting the reputation 
 of England's brightest and noblest peer, can only find cur- 
 rency amongst the mean, the abject, and the infamous! " 
 
 " May I perish, lady," said Wayland Smith, observing that 
 her violence directed itself toward him, " if I have done any- 
 
284 WA VEBLE7 NO VEL8. 
 
 thing to merit this strange passion! I have said but what 
 many men say." 
 
 By this time the countess had recovered her composure, 
 ajid endeavored, alarmed by the anxious hints of Janet, to 
 suppress all appearance of displeasure. " I were loath," she 
 said, " good fellow, that our Queen should change the virgin 
 style, so dear to us her people — think not of it." And then, 
 ae if desirous to change the subject, she added, " And what is 
 this paste, so carefully put up in the silver box? " as she 
 examined the contents of a casket in which drugs and per- 
 fumes were contained in separate drawers. 
 
 " It is a remedy, madam, for a disorder of which I trust 
 your ladyship will never have reason to complain. The 
 amount of a small Turkey bean, swallowed daily for a week, 
 fortifies the heart against those black vapors which arise from 
 solitude, melancholy, unrequited affection, disappointed 
 hope " 
 
 " Are you a fool, friend? " said the countess sharply; " or 
 do you think, because I have good-naturedly purchased your 
 trumpery goods at your roguish prices, that you may put any 
 gullery you will on me? Who ever heard that affections of 
 the heart were cured by medicines given to the body? " 
 
 *' Under your honorable favor," said Wayland, " I am an 
 honest man, and I have sold my goods at an honest price. 
 As to this most precious medicine, when I told its qualities, 
 I asked you not to purchase it, so why should I lie to you? I 
 say not it will cure a rooted affection of the mind, which only 
 God and time can do; but I say, that this restorative relieves 
 the black vapors which are engendered in the body of that 
 melancholy which broodeth on the mind. I have relieved 
 many with it, both in court and city, and of late one Master 
 Edmund Tressilian, a worshipful gentleman in Cornwall, 
 who, on some slight, received, it was told me, where he had 
 set his affections, was brought into that state of melancholy 
 which made his friends alarmed for his life." 
 
 He paused, and the lady remained silent for some time, and 
 then asked with a voice which she strove in vain to render 
 firm and indifferent in its tone, " Is the gentleman you have 
 mentioned perfectly recovered? " 
 
 " Passably, madam," answered Wayland: " he hath at least 
 no bodily complaint." 
 
 " I will take some of the medicine, Janet," said the count- 
 ess. "I too have sometimes that dark melancholy which 
 overclouds the brain." 
 
KEMLWORTR. a8« 
 
 "You shall not do so, madam," said Janet; "who shall 
 answer that this fellow vends what is wholesome? " 
 
 " I will myself warrant my good faith," said Wayland; and, 
 taking a part of the medicine, he swallowed it before them. 
 The countess now bought what remained, a step to which 
 Janet, by farther objections, only determined her the more 
 obstinately. She even took the first dose upon the instant, 
 and professed to feel her heart lightened and her spirits 
 augmented — a consequence which, in all probability, existed 
 only in her own imagination. The lady then piled the pur- 
 chases she had made together, flung her purse to Janet, and 
 desired her to compute the amount and to pay the peddler; 
 while she herself, as if tired of the amusement she at first 
 found in conversing with him, wished him good evening, and 
 walked carelessly into the house, thus depriving Wayland of 
 every opportunity to speak with her in private. He hastened, 
 however, to attempt an explanation with Janet. 
 
 " Maiden," he said, " thou hast the face of one who should 
 love her mistress. She hath much need of faithful service." 
 
 " And well deserves it at my hands," replied Janet; " but 
 what of that?" 
 
 " Maiden, I am not altogether what I seem," said the ped- 
 dler, lowering his voice. 
 
 " The less like to be an honest man," said Janet. 
 
 " The more so," answered Wayland, " since I am no 
 peddler." 
 
 " Get thee gone then instantly, or I will call for assistance," 
 said Janet; " my father must ere this be returned." 
 
 " Do not be so rash," said Wayland; " you will do what you 
 may repent of. I am one of your mistress' friends; and she 
 had need of more, not that thou shouldst ruin those she 
 hath." 
 
 " How shall I know that? " said Janet. 
 
 " Look me in the face," said Wayland Smith, " and see if 
 thou dost not read honesty in my looks." 
 
 And in truth, though by no means handsome, there was in 
 his physiognomy the sharp, keen expression of inventive 
 genius and prompt intellect which, joined to quick and bril- 
 liant eyes, a well-formed mouth, and an intelligent smile, 
 often gives grace and interest to features which are both 
 homely and irregular. Janet looked at him with the sly 
 simplicity of her sect, and replied, " Notwithstanding thy 
 boasted honesty, friend, and although I am not accustomed 
 to read and pass judgment on such volumes as thou hast sub- 
 
236 WA VERLET NO VEL8. 
 
 mitted to my perusal, I think I see in thy countenance some- 
 thing of the peddler — something of the picaroon." 
 
 " On a small scale, perhaps/' said Wayland Smith, laugh- 
 ing. " But this evening, or to-morrow, will an old man come 
 hither with thy father, who has the stealthy step of the cat, 
 the shrewd and vindictive eye of the rat, the fawning wile of 
 the spaniel, the determined snatch of the mastiff; of him be- 
 ware, for your own sake, and that of your mistress. See you, 
 fair Janet, he brings the venom of the aspic under the 
 assumed innocence of the dove. What precise mischief he 
 meditates toward you I cannot guess; but death and disease 
 have ever dogged his footsteps. Say naught of this to thy 
 mistress: my art suggests to me that in her state the fear of 
 evil may be as dangerous as its operation. But see that she 
 take my specific, for [he lowered his voice, and spoke low but 
 impressively in her ear] it is an antidote against poison. 
 Hark, they enter the garden! " 
 
 In effect, a sound of noisy mirth and loud talking ap- 
 proached the garden door, alarmed by which, Wayland Smith 
 sprung into the midst of a thicket of overgrown shrubs, while 
 Janet withdrew to the garden-house that she might not incur 
 observation, and that she might at the same time conceal, at 
 least for the present, the purchases made from the supposed 
 peddler, which lay scattered on the floor of the summer- 
 house. 
 
 Janet, however, had no occasion for anxiety. Her father, 
 his old attendant, Lord Leicester's domestic, and the astrolo- 
 ger entered the garden in tumult and in extreme perplexity, 
 endeavoring to quiet Lambourne, whose brain had now be- 
 come completely fired with liquor, and who was one of those 
 unfortunate persons who, being once stirred with the vinous 
 stimulus, do not fall asleep like other drunkards but remain 
 partially influenced by it for many hours, until at length, by 
 successive draughts, they are elevated into a state of uncon- 
 trollable frenzy. Like many men in this state also, Lam- 
 bourne neither lost the power of motion, speech, or expres- 
 sion; but, on the contrary, spoke with unwonted emphasis and 
 readiness, and told all that at another time he would have 
 been most desirous to keep secret. 
 
 " What!" ejaculated Michael, at the full extent of his voice, 
 " am I to have no welcome — no carouse, when I have brought 
 fortune to your old ruinous dog-house in the shape of a devil's 
 ally, that can change slate-shivers into Spanish dollars? 
 Here, you Tony Fire-the-Eagot, Papist, Puritan, hypocrite, 
 
KENILWORTH. 237 
 
 miser, profligate, devil, compounded of all men^s sins, bow 
 down and reverence him who has brought into thy house the 
 very mammon thou worshipest! ^' 
 
 "For God's sake," said Foster, "speak low; come into 
 the house; thou shalt have wine, or whatever thou 
 wilt/' 
 
 "No, old puckfist, I will have it here," thundered the 
 inebriated ruffian — " here, ^ al fresco,' as the Italian hath it. 
 No — no, I will not drink with that poisoning devil within 
 doors, to be choked with the fumes of arsenic and quicksilver; 
 I learned from villain Varney to beware of that." 
 
 " Fetch him wine, in the name of all the fiends! " said the 
 alchemist. 
 
 "Aha! and thou wouldst spice it for me, old Truepenny, 
 wouldst thou not? Aye, I should have copperas, and helle- 
 bore, and vitriol, and aquafortis, and twenty devilish ma- 
 terials, bubbling in my brain-pan, like a charm to raise the 
 devil in a witch's caldron. Hand me the flask thyself, old 
 Tony Fire-the-Fagot — ^and let it be cool; I will have no wine 
 mulled at the pile of the old burnt bishops. Or stay, let 
 Leicester be king if he will — good — and Varney, villain Var- 
 ney, grand vizier — why, excellent! And what shall I be, 
 then? Why, emperor — Emperor Lamboume! I will see 
 this choice piece of beauty that they have walled up here for 
 their private pleasures; I will have her this very night to 
 serve m}^ wine-cup and put on my nightcap. What should 
 a fellow do with two wives, were he twenty times an earl? 
 Answer me that, Tony boy, you old reprobate, hypocritical 
 dog, whom God struck out of the book of life, but tormented 
 with the constant wish to be restored to it. You old bishop- 
 burning, blasphemous fanatic, answer me that." 
 
 " I will stick my knife to the haft in him," said Foster, in 
 a low tone, which trembled with passion. 
 
 " For the love of Heaven, no violence! " said the astrologer. 
 " It cannot but be looked closely into. Here, honest Lam- 
 boume, wilt thou pledge me to the health of the noble Earl 
 of Leicester and Master Eichard Varney?" 
 
 " I will, mine old Albumazar — I will, my trusty vender of 
 ratsbane.' I .would kiss thee, mine honest infractor of the 
 Lex Julia, as they said at Leyden, didst thou not flavor so 
 damnably of sulphur and such fiendish apothecaries' stuff. 
 Here goes it, ^ up sey es ' — to Varney and Leicester! Two 
 more noble, mounting spirits, and more dark-seeking, deep- 
 diving, high-flying, malicious, ambitious miscreants — well, I 
 
238 WAVERLET JV0VEL8, 
 
 say no more, but I will whet my dagger on his heart-spone 
 that refuses to pledge me! And so, my masters " 
 
 Thus speaking, Lamhourne exhausted the cup which the 
 astrologer had handed to him, and which contained not wine, 
 but distilled spirits. He swore half an oath, dropped the 
 empty cup from his grasp, laid his hand on his sword without 
 being able to draw it, reeled, and fell without sense or motion 
 into the arms of the domestic, who dragged him off to his 
 chamber and put him to bed. 
 
 In the general confusion, Janet regained her lady's cham- 
 ber unobserved, trembling like an aspen leaf, but determined 
 to keep secret from the countess the dreadful surmises which 
 she could not help entertaining from the drunken ravings of 
 Lamboume. Her fears, however, though they assumed no 
 certain shape, kept pace with the advice of the peddler; and 
 she confirmed her mistress in her purpose of taking the medi- 
 cine which he had recommended, from which it is probable 
 she would otherwise have dissuaded her. 
 
 Neither had these intimations escaped the ears of Wayland, 
 who knew much better how to interpret them. He felt 
 much compassion at beholding so lovely a creature as the 
 countess, and whom he had first seen in the bosom of domes- 
 tic happiness, exposed to the machinations of such a gang of 
 villains. His indignation, too, had been highly excited by 
 hearing the voice of his old master, against whom he felt, in 
 equal degree, the passions of hatred and fear. He nourished 
 also a pride in his own art and resources; and, dangerous as 
 the task was, he that night formed a determination to attain 
 the bottom of the mystery, and to aid the distressed lady, if it 
 were yet possible. From some words which Lamboume had 
 dropped among Ins ravings, Wayland now, for the first time, 
 felt inclined to doubt that Vamey had acted entirely on his 
 own account in wooing and winning the affecfions of this 
 beautiful creature. Fame asserted of this zealous retainer 
 that he had accommodated his lord in former love intrigues; 
 and it occurred to Wayland Smith that Leicester himself 
 might be the party chiefly interested. Her marriage with 
 the Earl he could not suspect; but even the discovery of such 
 a passing intrigue with a lady of Mistress Amy Bobsizf s rank 
 was a secret of the deepest importance to the stability of the 
 favorite's power over Elizabeth. "If Leicester himself 
 should hesitate to stifle such a rumor by very strange means," 
 said he to himself, " he has those about him who would do 
 Mm that favor without waiting for his consent. If I would 
 
KENILWORTH, 289 
 
 meddle in this business, it must be in such guise as my old 
 master uses when he compounds his manna of Satan, and 
 that is with a close mask on my face. So I will quit Giles 
 Gosling to-morrow, and change my course and place of resi- 
 dence as often as a hunted fox. I should like to see this little 
 Puritan, too, once more. She looks both pretty and intelli- 
 gent, to have come of such a caitiff as Anthony Fire-the- 
 Fagot." 
 
 Giles Gosling received the adieus of Wayland rather joy- 
 fully than otherwise. The honest publican saw so much 
 peril in crossing the course of the Earl of Leicester's favorite, 
 that his virtue was scarce able to support him in the task, 
 and he was well pleased when it was likely to be removed 
 from his shoulders; still, however, professing his good-will 
 and readiness, in case of need, to do Master Tressilian or his 
 emissary any service, in so far as consisted with his chazucter 
 of a publican. 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 Vaulting ambition, that o'erleaps itself, 
 And falls on t'other side. 
 
 —Macbeth. 
 
 The splendor of the approaching revels at Kenilworth was 
 now the conversation through all England; and everything 
 was collected at home or from abroad which could add to the 
 gayety or glory of the prepared reception of Elizabeth at the 
 house of her most distinguished favorite. Meantime, Leices- 
 ter appeared daily to advance in the Queen's favor. He was 
 perpetually by her side in council, willingly listened to in the 
 moments of courtly recreation, favored with approaches even 
 to familiar intimacy, looked up to by all who had aught to 
 hope at court, courted by foreign ministers with the most 
 flattering testimonies of respect from their sovereigns — the 
 "alter ego," as it seemed, of the stately Elizabeth, who was 
 now very generally supposed to be studying the time and 
 opportunity for associating him, by marriage, into her sover- 
 eign power. 
 
 Amid such a tide of prosperity, this minion of fortune and 
 of the Queen's favor was probably the most unhappy man in 
 the realm which seemed at his devotion. He had the Fairy 
 King's superiority over his friends and dependents, and saw 
 much which they could not. The character of his mistress 
 was intimately known to him: it was his minute and studied 
 acquaintance with her humors, as well as her noble faculties, 
 which, joined to his powerful mental qualities and his emi- 
 nent external accomplishments, had raised him so high in her 
 favor; and it was that very knowledge of her disposition 
 which led him to apprehend at every turn some sudden and 
 overwhelming disgrace. Leicester was like a pilot possessed 
 of a chart, which points out to him all the peculiarities of his 
 navigation, but which exhibits so many shoals, breakers, and 
 reefs of rocks that his anxious eye reaps little more from ob- 
 serving them than to be convinced that his final escape can 
 be little else than miraculous. 
 
 In fact. Queen Elizabeth had a character strangely com- 
 pounded of the strongest masculine sense with those foibles 
 which are chiefly supposed proper to the female sex. Her 
 subjects had the full benefit of her virtues, which far pre- 
 
KENILWOBTH, 241 
 
 dominated over her weaknesses; but her courtiers and those 
 about her person had often to sustain sudden and embarrass- 
 ing turns of caprice and the sallies of a temper which was 
 both jealous and despotic. She was the nursing-mother of 
 her people, but she was also the true daughter of Henry 
 VIII.; and though early sufferings and an excellent education 
 had repressed and modified, they had not altogether de- 
 stroyed, the hereditary temper of that " hard-ruled king." 
 " Her mind," says her witty godson. Sir John Harrington, 
 who had experienced both the smiles and the frowns which 
 he describes, " was ofttime like the gentle air, that cometh 
 from the westerly point in a summer's mom: 'twas sweet and 
 refreshing to all around her. Her speech did win all affec- 
 tions. . . Again, she could put forth such alterations, when 
 obedience was lacking, as left no doubting whose daughter 
 she was. . . When she smiled, it was a pure sunshine, that 
 everyone did choose to bask in, if they could; but anon came 
 a storm, from a sudden gathering of clouds, and the thunder 
 fell in wondrous manner on all alike." * 
 
 This variability of disposition, as Leicester well knew, was 
 chiefly formidable to those who had a share in the Queen's 
 affections, and who depended rather on her personal regard 
 than on the indispensable services which they could render to 
 her councils and her crown. The favor of Burleigh or of 
 Walsingham, of a description far less striking than that by 
 which he was himself upheld, was founded, as Leicester was 
 well aware, on Elizabeth's solid judgment, not on her par- 
 tiality; and was, therefore, free from all those principles of 
 change and decay necessarily incident to that which chiefly 
 arose from personal accomplishments and female predilec- 
 tion. These great and sage statesmen were judged of by the 
 Queen only with reference to the measures they suggested, 
 and the reasons by which they supported their opinions in 
 council; whereas the success of Leicester's course depended on 
 all those light and changeable gales of caprice and humor 
 which thwart or favor the progress of a lover in the favor of 
 his mistress, and she, too, a mistress who was ever and anon 
 becoming fearful lest she should forget the dignity, or com- 
 promise the authority, of the queen while she indulged the 
 affections of the woman. Of the difficulties which sur- 
 rounded his power, " too great to keep or to resign," Leicester 
 was fully sensible; and, as he looked anxiously round for the 
 
 * Nuga Antiqua, Letter of Sir J. Harrington to Mr. Robert^Markham, 1800, 
 
 i. 
 
242 WA VEBLET NO VEL8. 
 
 means of maintaining himself in his precarious situation, and 
 sometimes contemplated those of descending from it in safety, 
 he saw but little hope of either. At such moments, his 
 thoughts turned to dwell upon his secret marriage and its 
 co-nsequences; and it was in bitterness against himself, if not 
 against his unfortunate countess, that he ascribed to that 
 hasty measure, adopted in the ardor of what he now called in- 
 considerate passion, at once the impossibility of placing his 
 power on a solid basis and the immediate prospect of its pre- 
 cipitate downfall. 
 
 " Men say," thus ran his thoughts, in these anxious and re- 
 pentant moments, " that I might marry Elizabeth, and be- 
 come King of England. All things suggest this. The 
 match is caroled in ballads, while the rabble throw their caps 
 up. It has been touched upon in the schools — whispered in 
 the presence-chamber — recommended from the pulpit — 
 prayed for in the Calvinistic churches abroad — touched on by 
 statists in the very council at home. These bold insinuations 
 have been rebutted by no rebuke, no resentment, no chiding, 
 scarce even by the usual female protestation that she would 
 live and die a virgin princess. Her words have been more 
 courteous than ever, though she knows such rumors are 
 abroad — ^her actions more gracious — her looks more kind: 
 naught seems wanting to make me King of England, and 
 place me beyond the storms of court favor, excepting the put- 
 ting forth of mine own hand to take that crown imperial 
 which is the glory of the universe! And when I might 
 stretch that hand out most boldly, it is fettered down by a 
 secret and inextricable bond! And here I have letters from 
 Amy," he would say, catching them up with a movement of 
 peevishness, " persecuting me to acknowledge her openly — ^to 
 do justice to her and to myself — and I wot not what. Me- 
 thinks I have done less than justice to myself already. And 
 she speaks as if Elizabeth were to receive the knowledge of 
 this matter with the glee of a mother hearing of the happy 
 marriage of a hopeful son! She, the daughter of Henry, who 
 spared neither man in his anger nor woman in his desire — 
 she to find herself tricked, drawn on with toys of passion to 
 the verge of acknowledging her love to a subject, and he dis- 
 covered to be a married man! Elizabeth to learn that she 
 had been dallied with in such fashion, as a gay courtier might 
 trifle with a country wench. "We should then see to our ruin 
 * furens quid foemina! ' " 
 
 He would then pause, and call for Vamey, whose advice 
 
" * Men say,* thus ran his thoughts . . . < that I might marry Elizabeth.' " 
 
KENILWORTH. 243 
 
 was now more frequently resorted to than ever, because the 
 earl remembered the remonstrances which he had made 
 against his secret contract. And their consultation usually 
 terminated in anxious deliberation how, or in what manner, 
 the countess was to be produced at Kenilworth. These com- 
 munings had for some time ever ended in a resolution to de- 
 lay the progress from day to day. But at length a peremp- 
 tory decision became necessary. 
 
 " Elizabeth will not be satisfied without her presence/' said 
 the earl; " whether any suspicion hath entered her mind, as 
 my own apprehensions suggest, or whether the petition of 
 Tressilian is kept in her memory by Sussex or some other 
 secret enemy, I know not; but amongst all the favorable ex- 
 pressions which she uses to me, she often recurs to the story 
 of Amy Eobsart. I think that Amy is the slave in the 
 chariot, who is placed there by my evil fortune to dash and to 
 confound my triumph, even when at the highest. Show me 
 thy device, Vamey, for solving the inextricable difficulty. I 
 have thrown every such impediment in the way of these ac- 
 cursed revels as I could propound even with a shade of de- 
 cency, but to-day's interview has put all to a hazard. She 
 said to me kindly but peremptorily, ' We will give you no 
 farther time for preparations, my lord, lest you should alto- 
 gether ruin yourself. On Saturday, the 9th of July, we will 
 be with you at Kenilworth. We pray you to forget none of 
 our appointed guests and suitors, and in especial this light o' 
 love. Amy Eobsart. We would wish to see the woman who 
 could postpone yonder poetical gentleman. Master Tressilian, 
 to your man, Echard Varney.' Now, Yamey, ply thine in- 
 vention, whose forge hath availed us so often; for sure as my 
 name is Dudley, the danger menaced by my horoscope is now 
 darkening around me." 
 
 " Can my lady be by no means persuaded to bear for a brief 
 space the obscure character which circumstances impose on 
 her? " said Vamey, after some hesitation. 
 
 " How, sirrah! my countess term herself thy wife! that may 
 neither stand with my honor nor with hers." 
 
 "Alas! my lord," answered Vamey, "and yet such is the 
 quality in which Elizabeth now holds her; and to contradict 
 this opinion is to discover all." 
 
 " Think of something else, Varney," said the earl, in great 
 agitation; " this invention is naught. If I could give way to 
 it, she would not; for I tell thee, Vamey, if thou know'st it 
 not, that not Elizabeth on the throne has more pride than the 
 
344 WAVBRLEY NOVELS. 
 
 daughter of this obscure gentleman of Devon. She is flexible 
 in many things, but where she holds her honor brought in 
 question she hath a spirit and temper as apprehensive as 
 lightning, and as swift m execution." 
 
 " We have experienced that, my lord, else had we not been 
 thus circumstanced," said Vamey. " But what else to sug- 
 gest I know not. Methinks she whose good fortune in be- 
 coming your lordship's bride gives rise to the danger should 
 do somewhat toward parrying it." 
 
 " It is impossible," said the earl, waving his hand: " I know 
 neither authority nor entreaties would make her endure thy 
 name for an hour." 
 
 " It is somewhat hard, though," said Vamey, in a dry tone; 
 and, without pausing on that topic, he added, "Suppose some- 
 one were found to represent her? Such feats have been per- 
 formed in the courts of as sharp-eyed monarchs as Queen 
 Elizabeth." 
 
 " Utter madness, Vamey," answered the earl; " the coun- 
 terfeit would be confronted with Tressilian, and discovery 
 become inevitable." 
 
 " Tressilian might be removed from court," said the un- 
 hesitating Varney. 
 
 " And by what means? " 
 
 "There are many," said Vamey, "by which a statesman 
 in your situation, my lord, may remove from the scene one 
 who pries into your affairs, and places himself in perilous 
 opposition to you." 
 
 " Speak not to me of such policy, Vamey," said the earl, 
 hastily; " which, besides, would avail nothing in the present 
 case. Many others there be at court to whom Amy may be 
 known; and besides, on the absence of Tressilian, her father 
 or some of her friends would be instantly summoned hither. 
 Urge thine invention once more." 
 
 " My lord, I know not what to say," answered Vamey; 
 *'but were I myself in such perplexity, I would ride post 
 down to Cumnor Place and compel my wife to give her con- 
 sent to such measures as her safety and mine required." 
 
 " Vamey," said Leicester, " I cannot urge her to aught so 
 repugnant to her noble nature as a share in this stratagem: it 
 would be a base requital for the love she bears me." 
 
 " Well, my lord," said Varney, " your lordship is a wise 
 and an honorable man, and skilled in those high points of 
 romantic scruple which are current in Arcadia, perhaps, as 
 your nephew, Philip Sidney, writes. I am your humble sei"- 
 
KENILWORTE. 246 
 
 vitor — a man of this world, and only happy that my knowl- 
 edge of it and its ways is such as your lordship has not 
 scorned to avail yourself of. Now I would fain know whether 
 the obligation lies on my lady or on you in this fortunate 
 union; and which has most reason to show complaisance to 
 the other, and to consider that other^s wishes, conveniences, 
 and safety?" 
 
 *• I tell thee, Varney," said the earl, " that all it was in my 
 power to bestow upon her was not merely deserved, but a 
 thousand times overpaid, by her own virtue and beauty; for 
 never did greatness descend upon a creature so formed by 
 nature to grace and adorn it." 
 
 " It is well, my lord, you are so satisfied," answered Vamey, 
 with his usual sardonic smile, which even respect to his 
 patron could not at all times subdue; "you will have time 
 enough to enjoy undisturbed the society of one so gracious 
 and beautiful — that is, so soon as such confinement in the 
 Tower be over as may correspond to the crime of deceiving 
 the affections of Elizabeth Tudor. A cheaper penalty, I pre- 
 sume, you do not expect? " 
 
 " Malicious fiend! " answered Leicester, " do you mock me 
 in my misfortune? Manage it as thou wilt." 
 
 " If you are serious, my lord," said Varney, " you must set 
 forth instantly and post for Cumnor Place." 
 
 " Do thou go thyself, Varney: the devil has given thee that 
 sort of eloquence which is most powerful in the worst cause. 
 I should stand self-convicted of villainy were I to urge such 
 a deceit. Begone, I tell thee. Must I entreat thee to mine 
 own dishonor! " 
 
 " No, my lord," said Varney; " but, if you are serious in 
 intrusting me with the task of urging this most necessary 
 measure, you must give me a letter to my lady as my creden- 
 tials, and trust to me for backing the advice it contains with 
 all the force in my power. And sueh is my opinion of my 
 lady's love for your lordship, and of her willingness to do 
 that which is at once to contribute to your pleasure and your 
 safety, that I am sure she will condescend to bear, for a few 
 brief days, the name of so humble a man as myself, especially 
 Ednce it is not inferior in antiquity to that of her own paternal 
 house." 
 
 Leicester seized on writing-materials, and twice or thrice 
 commenced a letter to the countess, which he afterward tore 
 into fragments. At length he finished a few distracted lines, 
 in which he conjured her, for reasons nearly concerning his 
 
246 WAVERLT NOVELS. 
 
 life and honor, to consent to bear the name of Vamcy for a 
 few days, during the revels at Kenilworth. He added, that 
 Vamey would communicate all the reasons which rendered 
 this deception indispensable; and having signed and sealed 
 these credentials, he flung them over the table to Varney, 
 with a motion that he should depart, which his adviser was 
 not slow to comprehend and to obey. 
 
 Leicester remained like one stupefied, till he heard the 
 trampling of the horses, as Varney, who took no time even to 
 change his dress, threw himself into the saddle, and, followed 
 by a single servant, set off for Berkshire. At the sound, the 
 earl started from his seat and ran to the window, with the 
 momentary purpose of recalling the unworthy commission 
 with which he had intrusted one of whom he used to say, he 
 knew no virtuous property save affection to his patron. But 
 Varney was already beyond call; and the bright starry firma- 
 ment, which the age considered as the Book of Fate, lying 
 spread before Leicester when he opened the casement, di- 
 verted him from his better and more manly purpose. 
 
 " There they roll, on their silent but potential course," said 
 the earl, looking around him, " without a voice which speaks 
 to our ear, but not without influences which affect, at every 
 change, the indwellers of this vile earthly planet. This, if 
 astrologers fable not, is the very crisis of my fate! The hour 
 approaches of which I was taught to beware — the hour, too, 
 which I was encouraged to hope for. A king was the word — 
 but how? The crown matrimonal — all hopes of that are gone; 
 let them go. The rich Netherlands have demanded me for 
 their leader, and would Elizabeth consent, would yield to me 
 their crown. And have I not such a claim, even in this king- 
 dom? That of York, descending from George of Clarence to 
 the house of Huntingdon, which, this lady failing, may have 
 a fair chance — Huntingdon is of my house. But I will 
 plunge no deeper in these high mysteries. Let me hold my 
 course in silence for a while, and in obscurity, like a subter- 
 ranean river: the time shall come that I will burst forth in my 
 strength, and bear all opposition before me." 
 
 While Leicester was thus stupefying the remonstrances of 
 his own conscience by appealing to political necessity for his 
 apology, or losing himself amidst the wild dreams of ambi- 
 tion, his agent left town and tower behind him, on his hasty 
 journey to Berkshire. He also nourished high hope. He 
 had brought Lord Leicester to the point which he had de- 
 sired, of committing to him the most intimate recesses of his 
 
KENILWOnTK 247 
 
 breast, and of using him as the channel of his most confiden- 
 tial intercourse with his lady. Henceforward it would, he 
 foresaw, be difficult for his patron either to dispense with his 
 services or refuse his requests, however unreasonable. And 
 if this disdainful dame, as he termed the countess, should 
 comply with the request of her husband, Varney, her pre- 
 tended husband, must needs become so situated with respect 
 to her that there was no knowing where his audacity might 
 be bounded; perhaps not till circumstances enabled him to 
 obtain a triumph which he thought of with a mixture of 
 fiendish feelings, in which revenge for her previous scorn was 
 foremost and predominant. Again he contemplated the pos- 
 sibility of her being totally intractable, and refusing obsti- 
 nately to play the part assigned to her in the drama at Kenil- 
 worth. 
 
 " Alasco must then do his part," he said. " Sickness must 
 serve her Majesty as an excuse for not receiving the homage 
 of Mrs. Varney — aye, and a sore and a wasting sickness it may 
 prove, should Elizabeth continue to cast so favorable an eye 
 on my Lord of Leicester. I will not forego the chance of 
 being favorite of a monarch for want of determined measures, 
 should these be necessary. Forward, good horse — forward: 
 ambition, and haughty hope of power, pleasure, and revenge, 
 strike their stings as deep through my bosom as I plunge the 
 rowels in thy flanks. On, good horse — on: the devil urge« 
 us both forward/' 
 
CHAPTER XXn. 
 
 Say that my beauty was but small, 
 
 Among court ladies all despised, 
 Why didst thou rend it from that hr 11, 
 
 Where, scornful earl, 'twas deatl^' prized ir 
 
 No more thou com'st with wonted speed, 
 
 Thy once beloved bride to see ; 
 But be she alive, or be she dead, 
 
 I fear, stern earl, 's the same to thee. 
 
 — Cumnor HaUy by William Julius Micklb. 
 
 The ladies of fashion of the present, or of any other, period 
 must have allowed that the young and lovely Countess of 
 Leicester had, besides her youth and beauty, two qualities 
 which entitled her to a place amongst women of rank and 
 distinction. She displayed, as we have seen in her interview 
 with the peddler, a liberal promptitude to make unnecessary 
 purchases, solely for the pleasure of acquiring useless and 
 showy trifles, which ceased to please as soon as they were pos- 
 sessed; and she was, besides, apt to spend a considerable space 
 of time every day in adorning her person, although the varied 
 splendor of her attire could only attract the half-satirical 
 praise of the precise Janet, or an approving glance from the 
 bright eyes which witnessed their own beams of triumph re- 
 flected from the mirror. 
 
 The Countess Amy had, indeed, to plead for indulgence in 
 those frivolous tastes, that the education of the times had 
 done little or nothing for a mind naturally gay and averse to 
 study. If she had not loved to collect finery and to wear it, 
 she might have woven tapestry or sewed embroidery, till her 
 labors spread in gay profusion all over the walls and seats at 
 lidcote Hall; or she might have varied Minerva's labors with 
 the task of preparing a mighty pudding against the time that 
 Sir Hugh Eobsart returned from the greenwood. But Amy 
 had no natural genius either for the loom, the needle, or the 
 receipt-book. Her mother had died in [Amy's] infancy; her 
 father contradicted her in nothing, and Tressilian, the only 
 one that approached her who was able or desirous to attend to 
 the cultivation of her mind, had much hurt his interest with 
 her by assuming too eagerly the task of a preceptor; so that 
 he was regarded by the lively, indulged, and idle girl with 
 some fear and much respect, but with little or nothing of thai 
 
KENILWORTE. 249 
 
 softer emotion which it had been his hope and his ambition 
 to inspire. And thus her heart lay readily open, and her 
 fancy became easily captivated by the noble exterior and 
 graceful deportment and complacent flattery of Leicester, 
 even before he was known to her as the dazzling minion of 
 wealth and power. 
 
 The frequent visits of Leicester at Cumnor during the 
 earlier part of their union had reconciled the countess to the 
 solitude and privacy to which she was condemned; but when 
 these visits became rarer and more rare, and when the void 
 was filled up with letters of excuse, not always very warmly 
 expressed, and generally extremely brief, discontent and sus- 
 picion began to haunt those splendid apartments which love 
 had fitted up for beauty. Her answers to Leicester conveyed 
 these feelings too bluntly, and pressed more naturally than 
 prudently that she might be relieved from this obscure and 
 secluded residence by the earFs acknowledgment of their mar- 
 riage; and in arranging her arguments, with all the skill she 
 was mistress of, she trusted chiefly to the warmth of the en- 
 treaties with which she urged them. Sometimes she even 
 ventured to mingle reproaches, of which Leicester conceived 
 he had good reason to complain. 
 
 " I have made her countess," he said to Vamey; " surely 
 she might wait till it consisted with my pleasure that she 
 should put on the coronet? " 
 
 The Countess Amy viewed the subject in directly an oppo- 
 site light. 
 
 " What signifies," she said, " that I have rank and honor in 
 reality, if I am to live an obscure prisoner, without either 
 society or observance, and suffering in my character as one of 
 dubious or disgraced reputation? I care not for all those 
 strings of pearls which you fret me by warping into my 
 tresses, Janet. I tell you that, at Lidcote Hall, if I put but a 
 fresh rose-bud among my hair, my good father would call me 
 to him that he might see it more closely; and the kind old 
 curate would smile, and Master Mumblazen would say some^ 
 thing about roses gules; and now I sit here, decked out like an 
 image with gold and gems, and no one to see my finery but 
 you, Janet. There was the poor Tressilian, too; but it avails 
 not speaking of him." 
 
 " It doth not indeed, madam," said her prudent attendant; 
 "and verily you make me sometimes wish you would not 
 ipeak of him so often or so rashly." 
 
 " It signifies nothing to warn me, Janet," said the impa- 
 
260 WAVBRLET NOVELS. 
 
 tient and incorrigible countess; " I was born free, though I 
 am now mewed up like some fine foreign slave, rather than 
 th-e wife of an English noble. I bore it all with pleasure 
 while I was sure he loved me; but now my tongue and heart 
 shall be free, let them fetter these limbs as they will. I tell 
 thee, Janet, I love my husband — I will love him till my latest 
 breath — I cannot cease to love him, even if I would, or if he 
 — ^which, God knows, may chance — should cease to love me. 
 But I will say, and loudly, I would have been happier than I 
 now am to have remained in Lidcote Hall, even although I 
 must have married poor Tressilian, with his melancholy look, 
 and his head full of learning, which I cared not for. He said, 
 if I would read his favorite volumes, there would come a time 
 that I should be glad of having done so. I think it is come 
 now.'' 
 
 " I bought you some books, madam," said Janet, " from a 
 lame fellow who sold them in the market-place, and who 
 stared something boldly at me, I promise you." 
 
 " Let me see them, Janet," said the countess; " but let 
 them not be of your own precise cast. How is this, most 
 righteous damsel? ^ A Pair of Snuffers for the Golden Can- 
 dlestick ' — ' A Handful of Myrrh and Hyssop to put a Sick 
 Soul to Purgation ' — ^ A Draught of Water from the Valley 
 of Baca ' — * Foxes and Firebrands.' What gear call you this, 
 maiden ? " 
 
 " Nay, madam," said Janet, " it was but fitting and seemly 
 to put grace in your ladyship's way; but an you will none of 
 it, there are play-books and poet-books, I trow." 
 
 The countess proceeded carelessly in her examination, turn- 
 ing over such rare volumes as would now make the fortune of 
 twenty retail booksellers. Here was a " Boke of Cookery, im- 
 printed by Eichard Lant," and Skelton's " Books "— " The 
 Passtime of the People " — " The Castle of Knowledge," etc. 
 But neither to this lore did the countess' heart incHne, and 
 joyfully did she start up from the listless task of turning over 
 the leaves of the pamphlets, and hastily did she scatter them 
 through the floor, when the rapid clatter of horses' feet heard 
 in the courtyard, called her to the window, exclaiming, " It 
 is Leicester! — it is my noble earl! — it is my Dudley! Every 
 stroke of his horse's hoofs sounds like a note of lordly 
 music! " 
 
 There was a brief bustle in the mansion, and Foster, with 
 his downward look and sullen manner, entered the apartment 
 to say, " That Master Eichaxd Vamey was arrived from my 
 
KENILWORTB. 261 
 
 lord, having ridden all night, and craved to speaJi with her 
 ladyship instantly." 
 
 " Vaxney! " said the disappointed countess; " and to speak 
 with me! — pshaw! But he comes with news from Leicester, 
 so admit him instantly." 
 
 Varney entered her dressing-apartment, where she sat ar- 
 rayed in her native loveliness, adorned with all that Janet^s 
 art, and a rich and tasteful undress, could bestow. But the 
 most beautiful part of her attire was her profuse and luxu- 
 riant light-brown locks, which floated in such rich abundance 
 around a neck that resembled a swan's, and over a bosom 
 heaving with anxious expectation, which communicated a 
 hurried tinge of red to her whole countenance. 
 
 Varney entered the room in the dress in which he had 
 waited on his master that morning to court, the splendor of 
 which made a strange contrast with the disorder arising from 
 hasty riding during a dark night and foul ways. His brow 
 bore an anxious and hurried expression, as one who has that 
 to say of which he doubts the reception, and who hath yet 
 posted on from the necessity of communicating his tidings. 
 The countess' anxious eye at once caught the alarm as she 
 exclaimed, " You bring news from my lord. Master Varney? 
 Gracious Heaven! is he ill?" 
 
 "No, madam, thank Heaven!" said Varney. "Compose 
 yourself, and permit me to take breath ere I communicate 
 my tidings." 
 
 " No breath, sir," replied the lady, impatiently; " I know 
 your theatrical arts. Since your breath hath sufficed to bring 
 you hither, it may suffice to tell your tale, at least briefly, and 
 in the gross." 
 
 " Madam," answered Varney, " we are not alone, and my 
 lord's message was for your ear only." 
 
 " Leave us, Jaaet, and Master Foster," said the lady; " but 
 remain in the next apartment, and within call." 
 
 Foster and his daughter retired, agreeably to the Lady 
 Leicester's commands, into the next apartment, which was the 
 withdrawing-room. The door which led from the sleeping- 
 chamber was then carefully shut and bolted, and the father 
 and daughter remained both in a posture of anxious atten- 
 tion, the first with a stem, suspicious, lowering cast of coun- 
 tenance, and Janet with folded hands, and looks which 
 seemed divided betwixt her desire to know the fortunes of her 
 mistress and her prayers to Heaven for her safety. Anthony 
 Foster seemed himself to have some idea of what was passing 
 
252 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 through his daughter's mind, for he crossed the apartment 
 and took her anxiously by the hand, saying, " That is right: 
 pray, Janet — pray; we have all need of prayers, aud some of 
 us more than others. Pray, Janet; I would pray myself, but 
 I must listen to what goes on within: evil has been brewing, 
 love — evil has been brewing. God forgive our sins; but 
 Vamey's sudden and strange arrival bodes us no good." 
 
 Janet had never before heard her father excite or even per- 
 mit her attention to anything which passed in their mysteri- 
 ous family, and now that he did so, his voice sounded in her 
 ear — she knew not why — like that of a screech-owl denounc- 
 ing some deed of terror and of woe. She turned her eyes 
 fearfully toward the door, almost as if she expected some 
 sounds of horror to be heard, or some sight of fear to display 
 itself. 
 
 All, however, was as still as death, and the voices of those 
 who spoke in the inner chamber were, if they spoke at all, 
 carefully subdued to a tone which could not be heard in the 
 next. At once, however, they were heard to speak fast, thick, 
 and hastily; and presently after the voice of the countess was 
 heard exclaiming, at the highest pitch to which indignation 
 could raise it, " Undo the door, sir, I command you! Undo 
 the door! I will have no other reply! " she continued, 
 drowning with her vehement accents the low and muttered 
 sounds which Vamey was heard to utter betwixt whiles. 
 **^ What ho! without there! " she persisted, accompanying her 
 words with shrieks, " Janet, alarm the house. Foster, break 
 open the door. I am detained here by a traitor. Use ax and 
 lever. Master Foster — I will be your warrant." 
 
 " It shall not need, madam," Vamey was at length dis- 
 tinctly heard to say. " If you please to expose my lord's im- 
 portant concerns and your own to the general ear, I will not 
 be your hindrance." 
 
 The door was unlocked and thrown open, and Janet and 
 her father rushed in, anxious to learn the cause of these re- 
 iterated exclamations. 
 
 When they entered the apartment, Vamey stood by the 
 door grinding his teeth, with an expression in which rage, and 
 shame, and fear, had each their share. The countess stood in 
 the midst of her apartment like a juvenile pythoness, under 
 the influence of the prophetic fury. The veins in her beau- 
 tiful forehead started into swollen blue lines through the 
 hurried impulse of her articulation, her cheek and neck 
 glowed like scarlet, her eyes were like those of aix imprisoned 
 
w 
 
 KENILWORTH. 263 
 
 eagle, flashing red lightning on the foes whom it cannot 
 reach with its talons. Were it possible for one of the Graces 
 to have been animated by a Fury, the countenance could not 
 have united such beauty with so much hatred, scorn, deffiance, 
 and resentment. The gesture and attitude corresponded 
 with the voice and looks, and altogether presented a spectacle 
 which was at once beautiful and fearful; so much of the 
 sublime had the energy of passion united with the Countess 
 Amy^s natural loveliness. Janet, as soon as the door was 
 open, ran to her mistress; and more slowly, yet with more 
 haste than he was wont, Anthony Foster went to Richard 
 Varney. 
 
 " In the Truth's name, what ails your ladyship? " said the 
 former. 
 
 " What, in the name of Satan, have you done to her? " said 
 Foster to his friend. 
 
 " Who, I ? — nothing," answered Varney, hut with sunken 
 head and sullen voice — " nothing but communicated to her 
 her lord's commands, which, if the lady list not to obey, 
 she knows better how to answer it than I may pretend 
 to do." 
 
 " Now, by Heaven, Janet," said the countess, " the false 
 traitor lies in his throat! He must needs lie, for he speaks to 
 the dishonor of my noble lord; he must needs lie doubly, for 
 he speaks to gain ends of his own, equally execrable and un- 
 attainable." 
 
 " You have misapprehended me, lady," said Varney, with 
 a sulky species of submission and apology; '* let this matter 
 rest till your passion be abated, and I will explain all." 
 
 " Thou shalt never have an opportunity to do so," said the 
 countess. " Ijook at him, Janet. He is fairly dressed, hath 
 the outside of a gentleman, and hither he came to persuade 
 me it was my lord's pleasure — nay, more, my wedded lord's 
 commands — that I should go with him to Kenilworth, and 
 before the Queen and nobles, and in presence of my own 
 wedded lord, that I should acknowledge him — him there, that 
 very cloak-brushing, shoe-cleaning fellow — him there, my 
 lord's lackey, for my liege lord and husband; furnishing 
 against myself, great God! whenever I was to vindicate my 
 right and my rank, such weapons as would hew my just claim 
 from the root, and destroy my character to be regarded as an 
 honorable matron of the English nobility! " 
 
 " You hear her, Foster, and you, young maiden, hear this 
 lady," answered Varney, taking advantage of the pause which 
 
254 . WAVBBLEY NOVELS. 
 
 the countess had made in her charge, more for lack.of breath 
 than for lack of matter — "you hear that her heat only ob- 
 jects to me the course which our good lord, for the purpose 
 to keep certain matters secret, suggests in the very letter 
 which she holds in her hands/' 
 
 Foster here attempted to interfere with a face of authority, 
 which he thought became the charge intrusted to him. 
 " Nay, lady, I must needs say you are over hasty in this. 
 Such deceit is not utterly to be condemned when practiced 
 for a righteous end; and thus even the patriarch Abraham, 
 feigned Sarah to be his sister when they went down to 
 Egypt." 
 
 " Aye, sir," answered the countess; " but God rebuked that 
 deceit even in the father of His chosen people, by the mouth 
 of the heathen Pharaoh. Out upon you, that will read Scrip- 
 ture only to copy those things which axe held out to us as 
 warnings, not as examples! " 
 
 " But Sarah disputed not the will of her husband, an it be 
 your pleasure," said Foster, in reply; "but did as Abraham 
 commanded, calling herself his sister, that it might be well 
 with her husband for her sake, and that his soul might live 
 because of her beauty." 
 
 " Now, so Heaven pardon me my useless anger," answered 
 the countess, " thou art as daring a hypocrite as yonder fellow 
 is an impudent deceiver! Never will I believe that the noble 
 Dudley gave countenance to so dastardly, so dishonorable a 
 plan. Thus I tread on his infamy, if indeed it be, and thus 
 destroy its remembrance forever! " 
 
 So saying, she tore in pieces Leicester's letter, and stamped 
 in the extremity of impatience, as if she would have annihi- 
 lated the minute fragments into which she had rent it. 
 
 " Bear witness," said Vamey, collecting himself, " she hath 
 torn my lord's letter, in order to burden me with the scheme 
 of his devising; and although it promises naught but danger 
 and trouble to me, she would lay it to my charge, as if I had 
 any purpose of mine own in it." 
 
 " Thou liest, thou treacherous slave! " said the countess, in 
 spite of Janet's attempts to keep her silent, in the sad fore- 
 sight that her vehemence might only furnish arms against 
 herself. " Thou liest! " she continued. " Let me go, Janet. 
 Were it the last word I have to speak, he lies: he ha!d his own 
 foul ends to seek; and broader he would have displayed thefn, 
 had my passion permitted me to preserve the silence which at 
 first encouraged him to unfold his vile projects." 
 
KENILWOBTE. 366 
 
 "Madam/' said Varney, overwhelmed in spite of his 
 effrontery, " I entreat you to believe yourself mistaken." 
 
 " As soon will I believe light darkness," said the enraged 
 countess. " Have I drank of oblivion ? Do I not remember 
 former passages, which, known to Leicester, had given thee 
 the preferment of a gallows, instead of the honor of his inti- 
 macy? I would I were a man but for five minutes! It were 
 space enough to make a craven like thee confess his villainy. 
 But go — begone! Tell thy master that, when I take the foul 
 course to which such scandalous deceits as thou hast recom- 
 mended on his behalf must necessarily lead me, I will give 
 him a rival something worthy of the name. He shall not be 
 supplanted by an ignominious lackey, whose best fortune is 
 to catch a gift of his master's last suit of clothes ere it is 
 threadbare, and who is only fit to seduce a suburb wench by 
 the bravery of new roses in his master's old pantoufles. Go — 
 begone, sir; I scorn thee so much that I am ashamed to have 
 been angry with thee." 
 
 Varney left the room with a mute expression of rage, and 
 was followed by Foster, whose apprehension, naturally slow, 
 was overpowered by the eager and abundant discharge of in- 
 dignation which, for the first time, he had heard burst from 
 the lips of a being who had seemed till that moment too lan- 
 guid and too gentle to nurse an angry thought or utter an in- 
 temperate expression. Foster, therefore, pursued Varney from 
 place to place, persecuting him with interrogatories, to which 
 the other replied not until they were in the opposite side of 
 the quadrangle, and in the old library, with which the reader 
 has already been made acquainted. Here he turned round on 
 his persevering follower, and thus addressed him, in a tone 
 tolerably equal; that brief walk having been sufficient to give 
 one so habituated to command his temper time to rally and 
 recover his presence of mind. 
 
 " Tony," he said, with his usual sneering laugh, " it avails 
 not to deny it — the woman and the devil, who, as thine oracle 
 Holdforth will confirm to thee, cheated man at the beginning, 
 have this day proved more powerful than my discretion. 
 Yon termagant looked so tempting, and had the art to pre- 
 serve her countenance so naturally, while I communicated my 
 lord's message, that, by my faith, I thought I might say some 
 little thing for myself. She thinks she hath my head under 
 her girdle now, but she is deceived. Where is Dr. Alasco ? " 
 
 " In his laboratory," answered Foster; " it is the hour he is 
 not spoken withal; we must wait till noon is past, or spoil his 
 
256 WAVSRLET NOVELS. 
 
 important What said I, important? I would say, inter- 
 
 nipt his divine studies." 
 
 " Aye, he studies the devil's divinity," said Varney; ^' but 
 when I want him one hour must suffice as well as another. 
 Lead the way to his pandemonium." 
 
 So spoke Vamey, and with hasty and perturbed steps fol- 
 lowed Foster, who conducted him through private passages, 
 many of which were well-nigh ruinous, to the opposite side 
 of the quadrangle, where, in a subterranean apartment, now 
 occupied by the chemist Alasco, one of the abbots of Abing- 
 don, who had a turn for the occult sciences, had, much to the 
 scandal of his convent, established a laboratory, in which, like 
 other fools of the period, he spent much precious time, and 
 money besides, in the pursuit of the grand arcanum. 
 
 Anthony Foster paused before the door, which was scrupu- 
 lously secured within, and again showed a marked hesitation 
 to disturb the sage in his operations. But Varney, less 
 scrupulous, roused him, by knocking and voice, until at 
 length, slowly and reluctantly, the inmate of the apartment 
 undid the door. The chemist appeared, with his eyes bleared 
 with the heat and vapors of the stove or alembic over which 
 he brooded, and the interior of his cell displayed the confused 
 assemblage of heterogeneous substances and extraordinary 
 implements belonging to his profession. The old man was 
 muttering, with spiteful impatience, " Am I forever to be re- 
 called to the affairs of earth from those of heaven? " 
 
 " To the affairs of hell," answered Vamey, " for that is 
 thy proper element. Foster, we need thee at our con- 
 ference." 
 
 Foster slowly entered the room. Varney, following, barred 
 the door, and they betook themselves to secret council. 
 
 In the meanwhile, the countess traversed the apartment, 
 with shame and anger contending on her lovely cheek. 
 
 " The villain," she said — " the cold-blooded, calculating 
 slave! But I unmasked him, Janet — I made the snake uncoil 
 all his folds before me, and crawl abroad in his naked 
 deformity. I suspended my resentment, at the danger of 
 suffocating under the effort, until he had let me see the very 
 bottom of a heart more foul than hell's darkest corner. And 
 thou, Leicester, is it possible thou couldst bid me for a mo- 
 ment deny my wedded right in thee, or thyself yield it to an- 
 other! But it is impossible: the villain has lied in all. 
 . Janet, I will not remain here longer. I fear him — I fear thy 
 
KENILWOBTH, 267 
 
 father; I grieve to say it, Janet, but I fear thy father, 
 and, worst of all, this odious Vamey. I will escape from 
 Cumnor/' 
 
 " Alas! madam, whither would you fly, or by what means 
 will you escape from these walls? " 
 
 "I know not, Janet," said the unfortunate young lady, 
 looking upward and clasping her hands together — " I know 
 not where I shall fly, or by what means; but I am certain the 
 God I have served will not abaadon me in this dreadful 
 crisis, for I am in the hands of wicked men." 
 
 ^' Do not think so, dear lady," said Janet; " my father is 
 stern and strict in his temper, and severely true to his trust; 
 but yet " 
 
 At this moment, Anthony Foster entered the apartment 
 bearing in his hand a glass cup and a small flask. His man- 
 ner was singular; for, while approaching the countess with 
 the respect due to her rank, he had till this time suffered to 
 become visible, or had been unable to suppress, the obdurate 
 sulkiness of his natural disposition, which, as is usual with 
 those of his unhappy temper, was chiefly exerted toward 
 those over whom circumstances gave him control. But at 
 present he showed nothing of that sullen consciousness of 
 authority which he was wont to conceal under a clumsy affec- 
 tation of civility and deference, as a ruffian hides his pistols 
 and bludgeon under his ill-fashioned gaberdine. And yet it 
 seemed as if his smile was more in fear than courtesy, and as 
 if, while he pressed the countess to taste of the choice cordial, 
 which should refresh her spirits after her late alarm, he was 
 conscious of meditating some farther injury. His hand 
 trembled also, his voice faltered, and his whole outward be- 
 havior exhibited so much that was suspicious, that his daugh- 
 ter Janet, after she had stood looking at him in astonishment 
 for some seconds, seemed at once to collect herself to execute 
 some hardy resolution, raised her head, assumed an attitude 
 and gait of determination and authority, and walking slowly 
 betwixt her father and her mistress, took the salver from the 
 hand of the former, and said in a low, but marked and de- 
 cided tone, " Father, I will fill for my noble mistress, when 
 such is her pleasure." 
 
 "Thou, my child?" said Foster, eagerly and apprehen- 
 sively; " no, my child, it is not thou shalt render the lady this 
 service." 
 
 " And why, I pray you," said Janet, " if it be fitting that 
 ttie noble lady should partake of the cup at all? " 
 
258 WAVERLBT NOVELS. 
 
 "Why — vy^hy?" said the seneschal, hesitating, and then 
 bursting into passion as the readiest mode of supplying the 
 lack of all other reason. "Why, because it is my pleasure, 
 minion, that you shall not! Get you gone to the evening 
 lecture." 
 
 "Now, as I hope to hear lecture again," replied Janet, "I 
 will not go thither this night, unless I am better assured of 
 my mistress' safety. Give me that flask, father "; and she 
 took it from his reluctant hand, while he resigned it as if con- 
 science-struck. "And now," she said, "father, that which 
 shall benefit my mistress cannot do me prejudice. Father, I 
 drink to you." 
 
 Foster, without speaking a word, rushed on his daughter 
 and wrested the flask from her hand; then, as if embarrassed 
 by what he had done, and totally unable to resolve what he 
 should do next, he stood with it in his hand, one foot ad- 
 vanced and the other drawn back, glaring on his daughter 
 with a countenance in which rage, fear, and convicted villainy 
 formed a hideous combination. 
 
 "This is strange, my father," said Janet, keeping her eye 
 fixed on his, in the manner in which those who have the 
 charge of lunatics are said to overawe their unhappy patients ; 
 "will you neither let me serve my lady nor drink to her 
 myself?" 
 
 The courage of the countess sustained her through this 
 dreadful scene, of which the import was not the less obvious 
 that it was not even hinted at. She preserved even the rash 
 carelessness of her temper, and though her cheek had grown 
 pale at the first alarm, her eye was calm and almost scornful. 
 " Will you taste this rare cordial. Master Foster ? Perhaps 
 you will not yourself refuse to pledge us, though you permit 
 not Janet to do so. Drink, sir, I pray you." 
 
 " I will not," answered Foster. 
 
 "And for whom, then, is the precious beverage reserved, 
 sir? " said the countess. 
 
 "For the devil who brewed it!" answered Foster; and, 
 turning on his heel, he left the chamber. 
 
 Janet looked at her mistrees with a countenance expressive 
 in the highest degree of shame, dismay, and sorrow. 
 
 "Do not weep for me, Janet," said the countess kindly. 
 
 " No, madam," replied her attendant, in a voice broken by 
 sobs, "it is not for you I weep, it is for myself— it is for that 
 unhappy man. Those who are dishonored before man, those 
 who are condemned by God, have cause to mourn, no^ 
 
KENILWORTH. 259 
 
 those who are innocent! Farewell, madam! " sh6 said, hastily 
 assuming the mantle in which she was wont to go abroad. 
 
 " Do you leave me, Janet? ^' said her mistress — " desert me 
 in such an evil strait ? '^ 
 
 " Desert you, madam! " exclaimed Janet; and, running 
 back to her mistress, she imprinted a thousand kisses on her 
 hand — ^' desert you! may the Hope of my trust desert me 
 when I do so! No, madam; well you said the God you serve 
 will open you a path for deliverance. There is a way of 
 escape; I have prayed night and day for light, that I might 
 see how to act betwixt my duty to yonder unhappy man and 
 that which I owe to you. Sternly and fearfully that light 
 has now dawned, and I must not shut the door which God 
 opens. Ask me no more. I will return in brief space.'' 
 
 So speaking, she wrapped herself in her mantle, and saying 
 to the old woman whom she passed in the outer room that she 
 was going to evening prayer, she left the house. 
 
 Meanwhile, her father had reached once more the labora- 
 tory, where he found the accomplices of his intended guilt. 
 
 " Has the sweet bird sipped? " said Vamey, with half a 
 smile; while the astrologer put the same question with his 
 eyes, but spoke not a word.* 
 
 " She has not, nor she shall not from my hands," replied 
 Foster; " wohM you have me do murder in my daughter's 
 presence ? " 
 
 " Wert thou not told, thou sullen and yet faint-hearted 
 slave," answered Vamey, with bitterness, " that no murder, 
 as thou call'st it, with that staring look and stammering tone, 
 is designed in the matter? Wert thou not told that a brief 
 illness, such as woman puts on in very wantonness, that she 
 may wear her nightgear at noon, and lie on a settle when she 
 should mind her domestic business, is all here aimed at? 
 Here is a learned man will swear it to thee, by the key of the 
 Castle of Wisdom." 
 
 " I swear it," said Alasco, " that the elixir thou hast there 
 in the flask will not prejudice life! I swear it by that im- 
 mortal and indestructible quintessence of gold which pervades 
 every substance in nature, though its secret existence can be 
 traced bv him only to whom Trismegistus renders the key of 
 the Cabala." 
 
 "An oath of force," said Yarney. "Foster, thou wert 
 worse than a pagan to disbelieve it. Believe me, moreover, 
 who swear by nothing but by my own word, that, if you be not 
 canf o-rmable, there is no hope — no, not a glimpse of hop^-^ 
 
260 WA VERLET NO VEL8. 
 
 that this thy leasehold may be transmuted into a copyhold. 
 Thus, Alasco will leave your pewter artillery untransmi- 
 grated, and I, honest Anthony, will still have thee for my 
 tenant.'' 
 
 " I know not, gentlemen," said Foster, " where your de- 
 signs tend to; but in one thing I am bound up, that, fall back 
 fall edge, I will have one in this place that may pray for me, 
 and that one shall be my daughter. I have lived ill, and the 
 world has been too weighty with me; but she is as innocent 
 as ever she was when on her mother's lap, and she, at least, 
 shall have her portion in that happy City whose walls are of 
 pure gold, and the foundations garnished with all manner of 
 precious stones." 
 
 " Aye, Tony," said Vamey, ^^ that were a paradise to thy 
 heart's content. iJebate the matter with him. Dr. Alasco; 
 I will be with you anon." 
 
 So speaking, Vamey arose, and, taking the flask from the 
 cable, he left the room. 
 
 " I tell thee, my son," said Alasco to Foster as soon as Var- 
 ney had left them, " that, whatever this bold and profligate 
 railer may say of the mighty science in which, by Heaven's 
 blessing, I have advanced so far,* that I would not call the 
 wisest of living artisits my better or my teacher — I say, how- 
 soever yonder reprobate may scoff at things too holy to be 
 apprehended by men merely of carnal and evil thoughts, yet 
 believe, that the city beheld by St. John, in that bright vision 
 of the Christian Apocalypse, that New Jerusalem of which 
 all Christian men hope to partake, sets forth typically the dis- 
 covery of the Grand Secret, whereby the most precious and 
 perfect of nature's works are elicited out of her basest and 
 most crude productions; just as the light and gaudy butter- 
 fly, the most beautiful child of the summer's breeze, breaks 
 forth from the dungeon of a sordid chrysalis." 
 
 " Master Holdf orth said naught of this exposition," said 
 Foster doubtfully; " and moreover. Dr. Alasco, the Holy 
 Writ says that the gold and precious stones of the Holy City 
 are in no sort for those who work abomination or who frame 
 lies." 
 
 " Well, my son," said the doctor, " and what is your infer- 
 ence from thence?" 
 
 " That those," said Foster, " who distill poisons, and ad- 
 minister them in secrecy, can have no portion in those un- 
 speakable riches." 
 
 "You are to distinguish, my son/' replied the alchemist^ 
 
KENILWORTR, 261 
 
 " betwixt that which is necessarily evil in its progress and in 
 ita end also, and that which, being evil, is nevertheless capable 
 of working forth good. If, by the death of one person, the 
 happy period shall be brought nearer to us in which all that is 
 good shall be attained by wishing its presence, all that is evil 
 escaped by desiring its absence; in which sickness, and pain, 
 and sorrow shall be the obedient servants of human wisdom, 
 and made to fly at the slightest signal of a sage; in which that 
 which is now richest and rarest shall be within the compass 
 of everyone who shall be obedient to the voice of wisdom; 
 when the art of healing shall be lost and absorbed in the one 
 universal medicine; when sages shall become monarchs of the 
 earth, and death itself retreat before their frown — if this 
 blessed consummation of all things can be hastened by the 
 slight circumstance that a frail earthly body, which must 
 needs partake corruption, shall be consigned to the grave a 
 short space earlier than in the course of nature, what is such 
 a sacrifice to the advancement of the holy millennium? " 
 
 " Millennium is the reign of the saints,'^ said Foster, some- 
 what doubtfully. 
 
 " Say it is the reign of the sages, my son," answered Alasco; 
 *' or rather the reign of Wisdom itself." 
 
 "I touched on the question with Master Holdforth last 
 exercising night," said Foster; " but he says your doctrine is 
 heterodox, and a damnable and false exposition." 
 
 " He is in the bonds of ignorance, my son," answered 
 Alasco, "and as yet burning bricks in Egypt; or, at best, 
 wandering in the dr}^ desert of Sinai. Thou didst ill to speak 
 to such a man of such matters. I will, however, give thee 
 proof, and that shortly, which I will defy that peevish divine 
 to confute, though he should strive with me as the magicians 
 strove with Moses before King Pharaoh. I will do projection 
 in thy presence, my son — ^in thy very presence, amd thine eyes 
 shall witness the truth." 
 
 " Stick to that, learned sage," said Yamey, who at this 
 moment entered the apartment; "if he refuse the testimony 
 of thy tongue, yet how shall he deny that of his own eyes? " 
 
 " Varney! " said the adept — " Vamey already returned! 
 Hast thou " He stopped short. 
 
 " Have I done mine errand, thou wouldst say? " replied 
 Vamey. "I have. And thou," he added, showing more 
 symptoms of interest than he had hitherto exhibited — "art 
 thou sure thou hast poured forth neither more nor less than 
 the just measure?" 
 
262 WA YERLEY NO VEL8. 
 
 '^ Aye," replied the alchemist, " as sure as men can be in 
 these nice proportions; for there is diversity of constitutions." 
 
 " Nay, then," said Varne}^ " I fear nothing. I know thou 
 wilt not go a step farther to the devil than thou art justly 
 considered for. Thou wert paid to create illness, and wouldst 
 esteem it thriftless prodigality to do murder at the same 
 price. Come, let us each to our chamber. We shall see the 
 event to-morrow." 
 
 " What didst thou do to make her swallow it? " said Foster, 
 shuddering. 
 
 " Nothing," answered Yarney, " but looked on her with 
 that aspect which governs madmen, women, and children. 
 They told me, in St. Luke's Hospital, that I have the right 
 look for overpowering a refractory patient. The keepers 
 made me their compliments on't; so I know how to win my 
 bread when my court favor fails me." 
 
 " And art thou not afraid," said Foster, " lest the dose be 
 disproportioned? " 
 
 " If so," replied Vamey, " she will but sleep the sounder, 
 and the fear of that shall not break my rest. Good-night, 
 my masters." 
 
 Anthony Foster groaned heavily, and lifted up his hands 
 and eyes. The alchemist intimated his purpose to continue 
 some experiment of high import during the greater part of 
 the night, and the others separated to their places of repose. 
 
CHAPTEK XXm. 
 
 Now God be good to me in this wide pilgrimais^e ' 
 
 All hope in human aid I cast behind me. 
 
 Oh, who would be a woman? — who that fool, 
 
 A weeping, pining, faithful, loving woman ! 
 
 She hath hard measure still where she hopes kindest, 
 
 And all her bounties only make ingrates.' 
 
 — Love's Pilgrimage. 
 
 Thi summer evening was closed, and Janet, just when hei 
 longer stay might have occasioned suspicion and inquiry in 
 that jealous household, returned to Ciminor Place, and has- 
 tened to the apartment in which she had left her lady. She 
 found her with her head resting on her arms, and these 
 crossed upon a table which stood before her. As Janet came 
 in, she neither looked up nor stirred. 
 
 Her faithful attendant ran to her mistress with the speed 
 of lightning, and rousing her at the same time with her hand, 
 conjured the countess, in the most earnest manner, to look up 
 and say what thus affected her. The unhappy lady raised her 
 head accordingly, and looking on her attendant with a ghastly 
 eye, and cheek as pale as clay, "Janet," she said, "I have 
 dLrank it." 
 
 "God be praised!" said Janet hastily. "I mean, God be 
 praised that it is no worse: the potion will not harm you. 
 Rise, shake this lethargy from your limbs and this despair 
 from your mind. 
 
 " Janet," repeated the countess again, " disturb me not — 
 leave me at peace — let life pass quietly — I am poisoned." 
 
 " You are not, my dearest lady," answered the maiden, 
 eagerly; " what you have swallowed cannot injure you, for the 
 antidote has been taken before it, and I hastened hither to tell 
 you that the means of escape are open to you." 
 
 " Escape ! " exclaimed the lady, as she raised herself hastily 
 in her chair, while light returned to her eye and life to her 
 cheek; "but ah I Janet, it comes too late." 
 
 " Not so, dearest lady. Eise, take mine arm, walk through 
 the apartment. Let not fancy do the work of poison ! So ; 
 feel you not now that you are possessed of the full use of your 
 limbs?" 
 
 " The torpor seems to diminish," said the countess, as, sup- 
 ported by Janet, she walked to and fro in the apartment; 
 
 363 
 
264 WAVEBLET NOVELS, 
 
 "but is it then so, and liave I not swallowed a deadly draught? 
 Varney was here since thou wert gone, and commanded me, 
 with eyes in which I read my fate, to swallow yon horrible 
 drug. Oh, Janet! it must be fatal: never was harmless 
 draught served by such a cupbearer! " 
 
 " He did not deem it harmless, I fear," replied the maiden; 
 " but God confounds the devices of the wicked. Believe me, 
 as I swear by the dear Gospel in which we trust, your life is 
 safe from his practice. Did you not debate with him? " 
 
 " The house was silent," answered the lady, " thou gone, no 
 other but he in the chamber, and he capable of every crime. 
 I did but stipulate he would remove his hateful presence, and 
 I drank whatever he offered. But you spoke of escape, Janet; 
 can I be so happy? " 
 
 " Are you strong enough to bear the tidings and make the 
 effort? " said the maiden. 
 
 " Strong! " answered the countess — " ask the hind, when 
 the fangs of the deer-hound are stretched to gripe her, if she 
 is strong enough to spring over a chasm. I am equal to every 
 effort that may relieve me from this place." 
 
 " Hear me,' then," said Janet. " One, whom I deem an 
 assured friend of yours, has shown himself to me in various 
 disguises, and sought speech of me, which — for my mind waa 
 not clear on the matter until this evening — I have ever de- 
 clined. He was the peddler who brought you goods, the 
 itinerant hawker who sold me books; whenever I stirred 
 abroad I was sure to see him. The event of this night deter- 
 mined me to speak with him. He waits even now at the 
 postern gate of the park with means for your flight. But 
 have you strength of body? Have you courage of mind? 
 Can you undertake the enterprise?" 
 
 " She that flies from death," said the lady, " finds strength 
 of body; she that would escape from shame lacks no strength 
 of mind. The thoughts of leaving behind me the villain who 
 menaces both my life and honor would give me strength to 
 rise from my death-bed." 
 
 " In God's name, then, lady," said Janet, " I must bid you 
 adieu, and to God's charge I must commit you! " 
 
 " Will you not fly with me, then, Janet? " said the count- 
 ess, anxiously. "Am I to lose thee? Is this thy faithful 
 service? " 
 
 " Lady, I would fly with you as willingly as bird ever fled 
 from cage, but my doing so would occasion instant discovery 
 and pursuit. I must remain, and use means to disguise the 
 
KENILWOBTR. 2W 
 
 truth tor some time. May Heaven pardon the falsehood be- 
 cause of the necessity! " 
 
 " And am I then to travel alone with this stranger? " said 
 the lady. " Bethink thee, Janet, may not this prove some 
 deeper and darker scheme to separate me perhaps from you, 
 who are my only friend? '' 
 
 " No, madam, do not suppose it," answered Janet readily; 
 " the youth is an honest youth in his purpose to you; and a 
 friend to Master Tressilian, under whose direction he is come 
 hither." 
 
 " If he be a friend of Tressilian," said the countess, " I will 
 commit myself to his charge as to that of an angel sent from 
 Heaven; for than Tressilian never breathed mortal man more 
 free of whatever was base, false, or selfish. He forgot him- 
 self whenever he could be of use to others. Alas! and how 
 was he requited! " 
 
 With eager haste they collected the few necessaries which 
 it was thought proper the countess should take with her, and 
 which Janet, with speed and dexterity, formed into a small 
 bundle, not forgetting to add such ornaments of intrinsic 
 value as came most readily in her way, and particularly a 
 casket of jewels, which she wisely judged might prove of 
 service in some future emergency. The Countess of Leicester 
 next changed her dress for one which Janet usually wore 
 upon any brief journey, for they judged it necessary to avoid 
 every external distinction which might attract notice. Ere 
 these preparations were fully made, the moon had arisen in 
 the summer heaven, and all in the mansion had betaken them- 
 selves to rest, or at least to the silence and retirement of their 
 chambers. 
 
 There was no difficulty anticipated in escaping, whether 
 from the house or garden, provided only they could elude 
 observation. Anthony Foster had accustomed himself to 
 consider his daughter as a conscious sinner might regard a 
 visible guardian angel, which, notwithstanding his guilt, con- 
 tinued to hover around him, and therefore his trust in her 
 knew no bounds. Janet commanded her own motions dur- 
 ing the daytime, and had a master-key which opened the pos- 
 tern door of the park, so that she could go to the village at 
 pleasure, either upon the household affairs, which were en- 
 tirely confided to her management, or to attend her devotions 
 at the meeting-house of her sect. It is true, the daughter of 
 Foster was thus liberally intrusted under the solemn condi- 
 tion that she should not avail herself of these privileges to do 
 
266 WAVEBLEY NOVELS. 
 
 anything inconsistent with the safe-keeping of the countess; 
 for so her residence at Cumnor Place had been termed, since 
 she began of late to exhibit impatience of the restrictions to 
 which she was subjected. Nor is there reason to suppose that 
 anything short of the dreadful suspicions which the scene of 
 that evening had excited could have induced Janet to violate 
 her word or deceive her father's confidence. But from what 
 she had witnessed, she now conceived herself not only justi- 
 fied, but imperatively called upon, to make her lady's safety 
 the principal object of her care, seitting all other considera- 
 tions aside. 
 
 The fugitive countess, with her guide, traversed with hasty 
 steps the broken and interrupted path, which had once been 
 an avenue, now totally darkened by the boughs of spreading 
 trees which met above their head, and now receiving a doubt- 
 ful and deceiving light from the beams of the moon, which 
 peneftrated where the ax had made openings in the wood. 
 Their path was repeatedly interrupted by felled trees, or ^he. 
 large boughs which had been left on the ground till timo 
 served to make them into fagots and billets. The incon- 
 venience and difiiculty attending these interruptions, the 
 breathless haste of the first part of their route, the exhausting 
 sensations of hope and fear, so much affected the countess' 
 strength that Janet was forced to propose that they should 
 pause for a few minutes to recover breath and spirits. Both, 
 therefore, stood still beneath the shadow of a huge old 
 gjnarled oak-tree, and both naturally looked back to the man- 
 sion which they had left behind them, whose long dark front 
 was seen in the gloomy distance, with its huge stacks of chim- 
 neys, turrets, and deckhouse, rising above the line of the 
 roof, and definedly visible against the pure azure blue of the 
 summer sky. One light only twinkled from the extended, 
 and shadowy mass, and it was placed so low that it rather 
 seemed to glimmer from the ground in front of the mansion 
 than from one of the windows. The countess' terror was 
 awakened. " They follow us! " she said, pointing out to 
 Janet the light which thus alarmed her. 
 
 Less agitated than her mistress, Janet perceived that the 
 gleam was stationary, and informed the countess, in a whis- 
 per, that the light proceeded from the solitary cell in which 
 the alchemist pursued his occult experiments. " He is of 
 those," she added, " who sit up and watch by ni^ht that they 
 may commit iniquity. Evil was the chance which sent hither 
 a man whose mixed speech of earthly wealth and unearthly 
 
KENILWORTB, SeV 
 
 or superhuman knowledge hath in it what does so especially 
 captivate my poor father. Well spoke the good Master Hold- 
 forth, and, methought, not without meaning that those of our 
 household should lind therein a practical use. * There be 
 those/ he said, ' and their number is legion, who will rather, 
 like the wicked Ahab, listen to the dreams of the false prophet 
 Zedekiah than to the words of him by whom the Lord has 
 spoken.' And he further insisted — ' Ah, my brethren, there 
 be many Zedekiahs among you — men that promise you the 
 light of their carnal knowledge, so you will surrender to 
 them that of your Heavenly understanding. What are they 
 better than the tyrant Naas, who demanded the right eye of 
 those who were subjected to him?' And farther, he in- 
 sisted " 
 
 It is uncertain how long the fair Puritan's memory might 
 have supported her in the recapitulation of Master Hold- 
 forth's discourse: but the countess interrupted her, and 
 assured her she was so much recovered that she could now 
 reach the postern without the necessity of a second delay. 
 
 They set out accordingly, and performed the second part of 
 their journey with more deliberation, and of course more 
 easily, than the first hasty commencement. This gave them 
 leisure for reflection; and Janet now, for the first time, ven- 
 tured to ask her lady which way she proposed to direct her 
 flight. Eeceiving no immediate answer — for, perhaps, in the 
 confusion of her mind, this very obvious subject of delibera- 
 tion had not occurred to the countess — Janet ventured to 
 add, " Probably to your father's house, where you are sure of 
 safety and protection?" 
 
 " No, Janet," said the lady mournfully, " I left Lidcote 
 Hall while my heart was light and my name was honorable 
 and I will not return thither till my lord's permission and 
 public acknowledgment of our marriage restore me to my 
 native home with all the rank and honor which he has be- 
 stowed on me." 
 
 "And whither will you, then, madam? " said Janet. 
 
 " To Kenilworth, girl," said the countess, boldly and 
 freely. "I will see these revels' — these princely revels — ^the 
 preparation for which makes the land ring from side to side. 
 Methinks, when the Queen of England feasts within my hus- 
 band's halls, the Countess of Leicester should be no unbe- 
 seeming guest." 
 
 " I pray God you may be a welcome one! " said Janet 
 hastily. 
 
268 WAVEBLET NOVELS. 
 
 "You abuse my situation, Janet," said the countess 
 angrily, " and you forget your own." 
 
 " I do neither, dearest madam," said the sorrowful maiden; 
 " but have you forgotten that the noble earl has given such 
 strict charges to keep your marriage secret that he may pre- 
 serve his court favor? and can you think that your sudden 
 appearance at his castle at such a juncture, and in such a 
 presence, will be acceptable to him? " 
 
 " Thou thinkest I would disgrace him? " said the countess; 
 " nay, let go my arm, I can walk without aid, and work with- 
 out counsel." 
 
 " Be not angry with me, lady," said Janet meekly, " and let 
 me still support you; the road is rough, and you are little 
 accustomed to walk in darkness." 
 
 "If you deem me not so mean as may disgrace my hus- 
 band," said the countess, in the same resentful tone, " you 
 suppose my Lord of Leicester capable of abetting, perhaps of 
 giving aim and authority to, the base proceedings of your 
 father and Vamey, whose errand I will do to the good earl." 
 
 " For God's sake, madam, spare my father in your report," 
 said Janet; " let my services, however poor, be some atone- 
 ment for his errors! " 
 
 "I were most unjust, dearest Janet, were it otherwise," 
 said the countess, resuming at once the fondness and confi- 
 dence of her manner toward her faithful attendant. "No, 
 Janet, not a word of mine shall do your father prejudice. 
 But thou seest, my love, I have no desire but to throw myself 
 on my husband's protection. I have left the abode he 
 assigned for me, because of the villainy of the persons by 
 whom I was surrounded; but I will disobey his commands in 
 no other particular. I will appeal to him alone; I will be 
 protected by him alone. To no other than at his pleasure 
 have I or will I communicate the secret union which com- 
 bines our hearts and our destinies. I will see him, and re- 
 ceive from his own lips the directions for my future conduct. 
 Do not argue against my resolution, Janet; you will only con- 
 firm me in it. And to own the truth, I am resolved to know 
 my fate at once, and from my husband's own mouth, and to 
 seek him at Kenilworth is the surest way to attain my 
 purpose." 
 
 While Janet hastily revolved in her mind the difiiculties 
 and uncertainties attendant on the unfortunate lady's situa- 
 tion, she was inclined to alter her first opinion, and to think, 
 upon the whole, that, since the countess had withdrawn her- 
 
KENILWORTH. 269 
 
 self from the retreat in which she had been placed by her 
 husband, it was her first duty to repair to his presence, and 
 possess him with the reasons of such conduct. She knew 
 what importance the earl attached to the concealment of their 
 marriage, and could not but own that, by taking any step to 
 make it public without his permission, the countess would 
 incur, in a high degree, the indignation of her hu^and. If 
 she retired to her father's house without an explicit avowal 
 of her rank, her situation was likely greatly to prejudice her 
 character; and if she made such an avowal, it might occasion 
 an irreconcilable breach with her husband. At Kenilworth, 
 again, she might plead her cause with her husband himself, 
 whom Janet, though distrusting him more than the countess 
 did, believed incapable of being accessary to the base and des- 
 perate means which his dependents, from whose power the 
 lady was now escaping, might resort to, in order to stifle her 
 complaints of the treatment she had received at their hands. 
 But at the worst, and were the earl himself to deny her jus- 
 tice and protection, still at Kenilworth, if she chose to make 
 her wrongs public, the countess might have Tressilian for her 
 advocate, and the Queen for her judge; for so much Janet 
 had learned in her short conference with Wayland. She was, 
 therefore, on the whole, reconciled to her lady's proposal of 
 going toward Kenilworth, and so expressed herself; recom- 
 mending, however, to the countess the utmost caution in mak- 
 ing her arrival known to her husband. 
 
 " Hast thou thyself been cautious, Janet? " said the count- 
 ess: "this guide, in whom I must put my confidence, hast 
 thou not intrusted to him the secret of my condition? " 
 
 " From me he has learned nothing," said Janet; " nor do I 
 think that he knows more than what the public in general 
 believe of your situation." 
 
 " And what is that? " said the lady. 
 
 " That you left your father's house — ^but I shall offend you 
 again if I go on," said Janet, interrupting herself. 
 
 " Nay, go on," said the countess; " I must learn to endure 
 the evil report which my folly has brought upon me. They 
 think, I suppose, that I have left my father's house to follow 
 lawless pleasure. It is an error which will soon be removed 
 — ^indeed it shall, for I will live with spotless fame or I shall 
 cease to live. I am accounted, then, the paramour of my 
 Leicester? " 
 
 " Most men say of Vamey," said Janet; " yet some call him 
 oiily the convement cloak of his nj.aster's pleasures; for re- 
 
270 WA YERLEY NO VEL8. 
 
 ports of the profuse expense in garnishing yonder apartments 
 have secretly gone abroad, and such doings far surpass the 
 means of Yarney. But this latter opinion is Httle prevalent; 
 for men dare hardly even hint suspicion when so high a name 
 is concerned, lest the Star Chamber should punish them for 
 scandal of the nobility/' 
 
 " They do well to speak low," said the countess, " who 
 would mention the illustrious Dudley as the accomplice of 
 such a wretch as Vamey. We have reached the postern. 
 Ah! Janet, I must bid thee farewell! Weep not, my good 
 girl," said she, endeavoring to cover her own reluctajnce to 
 part with her faithful attendant under an attempt at playful- 
 ness, " and against we meet again, reform me, Janet, that pre- 
 cise ruff of thine for an open rabatine of lace and cut-work, 
 that will let men see thou hast a fair neck; and that kirtle of 
 Philippine cheney, with that bugle lace which befits only a 
 chambermaid, into three-piled velvet and cloth of gold: thou 
 wilt find plenty of stuffs in my chamber, and I freely bestow 
 them on you. Thou must be brave, Janet; for though thou 
 airt now but the attendant of a distressed and errant lady, who 
 is both nameless and fameless, yet, when we meet again, thou 
 must be dressed as becomes the gentlewoman nearest in love 
 and in service to the first countess in England! " 
 
 "Now, may God grant it, dear lady!" said Janet — "not 
 that I may go with gayer apparel, but that we may both wear 
 our kirtles over lighter hearts." 
 
 By this time the lock of the postern door had, after some 
 hard wrenching, yielded to the master-key; and the countess, 
 not without internal shuddering, saw herself beyond the walls 
 which her husband's strict commands had assigned to her as 
 the boundary of her walks. Waiting with much anxiety for 
 their appearance, Wayland Smith stood at some distance, 
 shrouding himself behind a hedge which bordered the high- 
 road. 
 
 " Is all safe? " said Janet to him,* anxiously, as he ap- 
 proached them with caution. 
 
 " All," he replied; " but I have been unable to procure a 
 horse for the lady. Giles Gosling, the cowardly hilding, re- 
 fused me one on any terms whatever; lest, forsooth, he should 
 suffer — ^but no matter. She must ride on my palfrey, and I 
 must walk by her side until I come by another horse. There 
 will be no pursuit, if you, pretty Mistress Janet, forget not 
 thy lesson." 
 
 '' No more than the wise widow of Tekoa forgot the words 
 
KENILWORTH. 271 
 
 whicli Joab put into her moutli," answered Janei. "To 
 morrow, I say that my lady is unable to rise." 
 
 "Aye, and that slie hath aching and heaviness of the head, 
 a throbbing at the heart, and lists not to be disturbed. Fear 
 not ; they will take the hint, and trouble thee with few ques- 
 tions: they understand the disease." 
 
 "But," said the lady, "my absence must be soon dis- 
 covered, and they will murder her in revenge. I will rather 
 return than expose her to such danger." 
 
 "Be at ease on my account, madam," said Janet ; "I would 
 you were as sure of receiving the favor you desire from those 
 to whom you must make appeal, as I am that my father, how- 
 ever angry, will suffer no harm to befall me." 
 
 The countess was now placed by Wayland upon his horse, 
 around the saddle of which he had placed his cloak, so folded 
 as to make her a commodious seat. 
 
 "Adieu, and may the blessing of God wend with you!" 
 said Janet, again kissing her mistress' hand, who returned 
 her benediction with a mute caress. They then tore them- 
 selves asunder, and Janet, addressing Wayland, exclaimed, 
 " May Heaven deal with you at your need, as you are true or 
 false to this most injured and most helpless lady ! " 
 
 "Amen! dearest Janet," replied Wayland; "and believe 
 me, I will so acquit myself of my trust, as may tempt even 
 your pretty eyes, saint-like as they are, to look less scornfully 
 on me when we next meet." 
 
 The latter part of this adieu was whispered into Janet's ear; 
 and, although she made no reply to it directly, yet her man- 
 ner, influenced no doubt by her desire to leave every motive in 
 force which could operate toward her mistress' safety, did not 
 discourage the hope which Wayland's words expressed. She 
 re-entered the postern door, and locked it behind her, while, 
 Wayland taking the horse's bridle in his hand and walking 
 close by its head, they began in silence their dubious and 
 moonlight journey. 
 
 Although Wayland Smith used the utmost dispatch which 
 he could make, yet this mode of traveling was so slow that, 
 when morning began to dawn through the eastern mist, he 
 found himself no farther than about ten miles distant from 
 Cumnor. "Now, a plague upon all smooth-spoken hosts!'* 
 said Wayland, unable longer to suppress his mortification and 
 uneasiness. "Had the false loon, Giles Gosling, but told me 
 plainly two days since that I was to reckon naught upon him, 
 I had shifted better for myself. But your hosts have such a 
 
272 WAVEBLEY NOVELS. 
 
 custom of promising whatever is called for, that it is not till 
 the steed is to be shod you find they are out of iron. Had I 
 but known, I could have made twenty shifts; nay, for that 
 matter, and in so good a cause, I would have thought little 
 to have prigged a prancer from the next common — it had but 
 been sending back the brute to the head-borough. The farc>' 
 and the founders confound every horse in the stables of the 
 Black Bear! " 
 
 The lady endeavored to comfort her guide, observing, that 
 the dawn would enable him to make more speed. 
 
 ^' True, madam," he repHed; " but then it will enable other 
 folk to take note of us, and that may prove an ill beginning of 
 our journey. I had not cared a spark from anvil about the 
 matter had we been farther advanced on our way. But this 
 Berkshire has been notoriously haunted ever since I knew the 
 country with that sort of malicious elves who sit up late and 
 rise early for no other purpose than to pry into other folks' 
 affairs. I have been endangered by them ere now. But do 
 not fear," he added, " good madam; for wit, meeting with 
 opportunity, will not miss to find a salve for every sore." 
 
 The alarms of her guide made more impression on the 
 countess' mind than the comfort which he judged fit to ad- 
 minister along with it. She looked anxiously around her, 
 and as the shadows withdrew from the landscape, and the 
 heightening glow of the eastern sky promised the speedy rise 
 of the sun, expected at every turn that the increasing light 
 would expose them to the view of the vengeful pursuers, or 
 present some dangerous and insurmountable obstacle to the 
 prosecutioii of their journey. Wayland Smith perceived her 
 uneasiness, and, displeased with himself for having given her 
 cause of alarm, strode on with affected alacrity, now talking 
 to the horse as one expert in the language of the stable, now 
 whistling to himself low and interrupted snatches of tunes, 
 and now assuring the lady there was no danger; while at the 
 same time he looked sharply around to see that there was 
 nothing in sight which might give the lie to his words while 
 they were issuing from his mouth. Thus did they journey 
 on, until an unexpected incident gave them the means of con- 
 tinuing their pilgrimage with more speed and convenience. 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 Bichard. A horse !— a horse !— my kingdom for a horse I 
 
 Catesby. My lord, I'll help you to a horse. 
 
 —Bichard III. 
 
 Our travelers were in the act of passing a small thicket of 
 trees close by the roadside, when the first living being pre- 
 sented himself whom they had seen since their departure from 
 Cumnor Place. This was a stupid lout, seemingly a farmer's 
 boy, in a gray jerkin, with his head bare, his hose about his 
 heels, and huge startups upon his feet. He held by the bridle 
 what of all things they most wanted — a palfrey, namely, with 
 a side-saddle and all other garniture for a woman's mount- 
 ing; and he hailed Wayland Smith with, " Zur, ye be zure the 
 party?" 
 
 " Aye, that I be, my lad," answered Wayland, without an 
 instant's hesitation, and it must be owned that consciences 
 trained in a stricter school of morality might have given way 
 to an occasion so tempting. While he spoke, he caught the 
 rein out of the boy's hand, and almost at the same time helped 
 down the countess from his own horse, and aided her to 
 mount on that which chance had thus presented for her ac- 
 ceptance. Indeed, so naturally did the whole take place, that 
 the countess, as it afterward appeared, never suspected but 
 that the horse had been placed there to meet them by the pre- 
 caution of the guide or some of his friends. 
 
 The lad, however, who was thus hastily dispossessed of his 
 charge, began to stare hard, and scratch his head, as if seized 
 with some qualms of conscience for delivering up the animal 
 on such brief explanation. " I be right zure thou be'st the 
 party," said he, muttering to himself, " but thou shouldst ha 
 zaid ' Beans/ thou knaw'st." 
 
 "Aye — aye," said Wayland, speaking at a venture; "and 
 thou ' Bacon,' thou know'st." 
 
 "Noa. — noa," said the lad; "bide ye — ^bide ye; it was 
 * Pease ' a should ha said." 
 
 " Well— well," answered Wayland, " ' Pease ' be it, a God's 
 name! though ^ Bacon ' were the better password." 
 
 And being by this time mounted on his own horse, he 
 caught the rein of the palfrey from the uncertain hold of the 
 
 273 
 
2 74 WA VEBLBY NO VEL8. 
 
 hesitating young boor, flung him a small piece of money, and 
 made amends for lost time by riding briskly off without 
 farther parley. The lad was still visible from the hill up 
 which they were riding, and Wayland, as he looked back, be- 
 held him standing with his fingers in his hair as immovable as 
 a guide-post, and his head turned in the direction in which 
 they were escaping from him. At length, just as they topped 
 the hill, he saw the clown stoop to lift up the silver groat 
 which his benevolence had imparted. " Now this is what I 
 call a God-send," said Wayland: " this is a bonny well-ridden 
 bit of a going thing, and it will carry us so far till we get you 
 as well mounted, and then we will send it back time enough 
 to satisfy the hue and cry." 
 
 But he was deceived in his expectations; and fate, which 
 seemed at first to pro^mise so fairly, soon threatened to turn 
 the incident which he thus gloried in into the cause of their 
 utter ruin. 
 
 They had not ridden a short mile from the place where they 
 left the lad before they heard a man's voice shouting on the 
 wind behind them, " Robbery! — robbery! Stop thief! " and 
 similar exclamations, which Wayland's conscience readily 
 assured him must arise out of the transaction to which he had 
 been Just accessary. 
 
 "I had better have gone barefoot all my life," he said: "it is 
 the hue and cry, and I am a lost man. Ah! Wayland — Way- 
 land, many a time thy father said horse-flesh would be the 
 death of thee. Were I once safe among the horse-coursers in 
 Smithfield or Tumball Street, they should have leave to hang 
 me as high as St. Paul's if I e'er meddled more with nobles, 
 knights, or gentlewomen! " 
 
 Amidst these dismal reflections, he turned his head repeat- 
 edly to see by whom he was chased, and was much comforted 
 when he could only discover a single rider, who was, however, 
 well mounted, and came after them at a speed which left 
 them no chance of escaping, even had the lady's strength per- 
 mitted her to ride as fast as her palfrey might have been able 
 to gallop. 
 
 " There may be fair play betwixt us, sure," thought Way- 
 land, " where there is but one man on each side; and yonder 
 fellow sits on his horse more like a monkey than a cavalier. 
 Pshaw! if it come to the worst, it will be easy unhorsing him. 
 Nay, 'snails! I think his horse will take the matter in his 
 own hand, for he has the bridle betwixt his teeth. Oons, what 
 care I for him? " said he, as the pursuer drew yet netirer; *' ii 
 
KENILWORTH. 275 
 
 is but the little animal of a mercer from Abingdon, when all 
 is over." 
 
 Even so it was, as the experienced eye of Wayland had 
 descried at a distance. For the valiant mercer's horse, which 
 was a beast of mettle, feeling himself put to his speed, and 
 discerning a couple of horses riding fast, at some hundred 
 yards' distance before him, betook himself to the road with 
 such alacrity as totally deranged the seat of his rider, who 
 not only came up with, but passed at full gallop, those whom 
 he had been pursuing, pulling the reins with all his might, 
 and ejaculating, "Stop! — stop!'' an interjection which 
 seemed rather to regard his own palfrey than what seamen 
 call " the chase." With the same involuntary speed, he shot 
 ahead, to use another nautical phrase, about a furlong ere he 
 was able to stop and turn his horse, and then rode back 
 toward our travelers, adjusting, as well as he could, his disr- 
 ordered dress, resettling himself in the saddle, and endeavor- 
 ing to substitute a bold and martial frown for the confusion 
 and dismay which sate upon his visage during his involuntary 
 career. 
 
 Wayland had just time to caution the lady not to be 
 alarmed, adding, " This fellow is a gull, and I will use him as 
 such." 
 
 When the mercer had recovered breath and audacity 
 enough to confront them, he ordered Wayland, in a menacing 
 tone, to deliver up his palfrey. 
 
 " How? " said the smith, in King Cambyses^ vein, " are we 
 commanded to stand and deliver on the king's highway? 
 Then out, Excaliber, and tell this knight of prowess that 
 dire blows must decide between us! " 
 
 " Haro and help, and hue and cry, every true man! " said 
 the mercer, "I am withstood in seeking to recover mine own!" 
 
 " Thou swear'st thy gods in vain, foul paynim," said Way- 
 land, " for I will through with mine purpose, were death at 
 the end on't. Nevertheless, know, thou false man of frail 
 cambric and ferrateen, that I am he, even the peddler, whom 
 thou didst boast to meet on Maiden Castle Moor and despoil 
 of his pack; wherefore betake thee to thy weapons presently." 
 
 " I spoke but in jest, man," said Goldthred; " I am an 
 honest shopkeeper and citizen, who scorns to leap forth on 
 any man from behind a hedge." 
 
 " Then, by my faith, most puissant mercer," answered 
 Wayland, " I am sorry for my vow, which was that, wherever 
 I met thee, I would despoil thee of thy palfrey and bestow it 
 
276 WAYEBLEY N0YEL8. 
 
 upon my leman, unless thou couldst defend it by blows ol 
 force. But the vow is passed and registered; and all I can do 
 for thee is to leave the horse at Donnington, in the nearest 
 hostelry." 
 
 " But I tell thee, friend/' said the mercer, " it is the very 
 horse on which I was this day to carry Jane Thackham of 
 Shottesbrook as far as the parish church yonder, to become 
 Dame Goldthred. She hath jumped out of the shot-window 
 of old Gaffer Thackham's grange; and lo ye, yonder she stands 
 at the place where she should have met the palfrey, with her 
 camlet riding-cloak and ivory-handled whip, like a picture of 
 Lot's wife. I pray you, in good terms, let me have back the 
 palfrey." 
 
 " Grieved am I," said Wayland, " as much for the fair 
 damsel as for thee, most noble imp of muslin. But vows 
 must have their course; thou wilt find the palfrey at the 
 Angel yonder at Donnington. It is all I may do for thee 
 with a safe conscience." 
 
 " To the devil with thy conscience! " said the dismayed 
 mercer. " Wouldst thou have a bride walk to church on 
 foot? " 
 
 " Thou mayst take her on thy crupper. Sir Goldthred," an- 
 swered Wayland; " it will take down thy steed's mettle." 
 
 " And how if you — if you forget to leave my horse, as you 
 propose? " said Goldthred, not without hesitation, for his soul 
 was afraid within him. 
 
 " My pack shall be pledged for it; yonder it lies with Giles 
 Gosling, in his chamber with the damask'd leathern hangings, 
 stuffed full with velvet — single, double, triple-piled — rash, 
 taffeta and paropa, shag, damask, and mockado, plush and 
 grogram " 
 
 " Hold! — hold! " exclaimed the mercer; " nay, if there be, 
 in truth and sincerity, but the half of these wares — ^but if 
 ever I trust bumpkin with bonny Bayard again! " 
 
 " As you list for that, good Master Goldthred, and so good 
 morrow to you — and well parted," he added, riding on cheer- 
 fully with the lady, while the discountenanced mercer rode 
 back much slower than he came, pondering what excuse he 
 should make to the disappointed bride, who stood waiting for 
 her gallant groom in the midst of the king's highway. 
 
 " Methought," said the lady as they rode on, " yonder fool 
 stared at me as if he had some remembrance of me; yet I kept 
 my muffler as high as I might." 
 
 *' If I thought so," said Wayland, " I would ride back and 
 
KENILWORTH, 377 
 
 cut him over the pate: there would be no fear of harming his 
 brains, for he never had so much as would make pap to a 
 sucking gosling. We must now push on, however, and at 
 Donnington we will leave the oaf's horse, that he may have 
 no farther temptation to pursue us, and endeavor to assume 
 such a change of shape as may baffle his pursuit, if he should 
 persevere in it." 
 
 The travelers reached Donnington without farther alarm, 
 where it became matter of necessity that the countess should 
 enjoy two or three hours' repose, during which Wayland dis- 
 posed himself, with equal address and alacrity, to carry 
 through those measures on which the safety of their future 
 journey seemed to depend. 
 
 Exchanging his peddler's gaberdine for a smock-frock,' 'he 
 carried the palfrey of Goldthred to the Angel Inn, which was 
 at the other end of the village from that where our travelers 
 had taken up their quarters. In the progress of the morning, 
 as he traveled about his other business, he saw the steed 
 brought forth and delivered to the cutting mercer himself, 
 who, at the head of a valorous posse of the hue and cry, came 
 to rescue, by force of arms, what was delivered to him with- 
 out any other ransom than the price of a huge quantity of ale, 
 drunk out by his assistants, thirsty, it would seem, with their 
 walk, and concerning the price of which Master Goldthred 
 had a fierce dispute with the head-borough, whom he had 
 summoned to aid him in raising the country. 
 
 Having made this act of prudent, as well as just, restitu- 
 tion, Wayland procured such change of apparel for the lady, 
 as well as himself, as gave them both the appearance of coun- 
 try people of the better class; it being farther resolved that, 
 in order to attract the less observation, she should pass 
 upon the road for the sister of her guide. A good, but not a 
 gay horse, fit to keep pace with his own, and gentle enough 
 for a lady's use, completed the preparations for the journey; 
 for making which, and for other expenses, he had been fur- 
 nished with sufficient funds by Tressilian. And thus, about 
 noon, after the countess had been refreshed by the sound re- 
 pose of several hours, they resumed their journey, with the 
 purpose of making the be^ of their way to Kenil worth, by 
 Coventry and Warwick. They were not, however, destined 
 to travel far without meeting some cause of apprehension. 
 
 It is necessary to premise, that the landlord of the inn had 
 informed them that a jovial party, intended, as he understood, 
 to present some of the masques or mummeries which made a 
 
S'76 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 part of the entertainment with which the Queen was usually 
 welcomed on the royal progresses, had left the village of Don- 
 nington an hour or two before them, in order to proceed to 
 Kenilworth. Now it had occurred to Wayland that, by at- 
 taching themselves in some sort to this group, as soon as they 
 should overtake them on the road, they would be less likely 
 to attract notice than if they continued to travel entirely by 
 themselves. He communicated his idea to the countess, who, 
 only anxious to arrive at Kenilworth without interruption, 
 left him free to choose the manner in which this was to be 
 accomplished. They pressed forward their horses, therefore, 
 with the purpose of overtaking the party of intended revelers, 
 and making the journey in their company; and had just seen 
 the little party, consisting partly of riders, partly of people on 
 foot, crossing the summit of a gentle hill, at about half a 
 mile^s distance, and disappearing on the other side, when 
 Wayland, who maintained the most circumspect observation 
 of all that met his eye in every direction, was aware that a 
 rider was coming up behind them on a horse of uncommon 
 action, accompanied by a serving-man, whose utmost efforts 
 were unable to keep up with his master's trotting hackney, 
 and who, therefore, was fain to follow him at a hand-gallop. 
 "Wayland looked anxiously back at the horsemen, became 
 considerably disturbed in his maimer, looked back again, and 
 became pale, as he said to the lady — " That is Richard Var- 
 ney's trotting gelding: I would know him among a thousand 
 nags; this is a worse business than meeting the mercer.^' 
 
 " Draw your sword," answered the lady, " and pierce 
 my bosom with it, rather than I should fall into his 
 hands! " 
 
 " I would rather by a thousand times," answered Wayland, 
 "pass it through his body, or even mine own. But to say 
 truth, fighting is not my best point, though I can look on cold 
 iron like another when needs must be. And, indeed, as for 
 my sword — put on, I pray you — ^it is a poor provant rapier, 
 and I warrant you he has a special Toledo. He has a serving- 
 man, too, and I think it is the drunken ruffian Lamboume, 
 upon the horse on which men say — I pray you heartily to 
 put on — he did the great robbery of the west country grazier. 
 It is not that I fear either Varney or Lamboume in a good 
 cause — your palfrey will go yet faster if you urge him — ^but 
 yet — nay, I pray you let him not break off into the gallop, lest 
 they should see we fear them, and give chase; keep him only 
 at the full trot — but yet, though I fear them not, I would we 
 
KENIL WOBTH. 279 
 
 were well rid of them, and that rather hy policy than by vio- 
 lence. Could we once reach the party before us, we may herd 
 among them, and pass unobserved, unless Varney be really 
 come in express pursuit of us, and then, happy man be his 
 dole! " 
 
 While he thus spoke, he alternately urged and restrained 
 his horse, desirous to maintain the fleetest pace that was con- 
 sistent with the idea of an ordinary journey on the road, but 
 to avoid such rapidity of movement as might give rise to sus- 
 picion that they were flying. 
 
 At such a pace, they ascended the gentle hill we have men- 
 tioned, and, looking from the top, had the pleasure to see that 
 the party which ha3 left Donnington before them were in the 
 little valley or bottom on the other side, where the road was 
 traversed by a rivulet, beside which was a cottage or two. In 
 this place they seemed to have made a pause, which gave Way- 
 land the hope of joining them, and becoming a part of their 
 company, ere Varney should overtake them. He was the 
 more anxious, as his companion, though she made no com- 
 plaints and expressed no fear, began to look so deadly pale 
 that he was afraid she might drop from her horse. Notwith- 
 standing this symptom of decaying strength, she pushed on 
 her palfrey so briskly that they joined the party in the bot- 
 tom of the valley ere Vamiey appeared on the top of the gentle 
 eminence which they had descended. 
 
 They found the company to which they meant to associate 
 themselves in great disorder. The women, with disheveled 
 locks and looks of great importance, ran in and out of one of 
 the cottages, and the men stood around holding the horses, 
 and looking silly enough, as is usual in cases where their 
 assisitance is not wanted. 
 
 Wayland and his charge paused, as if out of curiosity, and 
 then gradually, without making any inquiries, or being asked 
 any questions, they mingled with the group, as if they had 
 always made part of it. 
 
 They had not stood there above five minutes, anxiously 
 keping as much to the side of the road as possible, so as to 
 place the other travelers betwixt them and Varney, when 
 Lord Leicester's master of the horse, followed by Lamboume, 
 came riding fiercely down the hill, their horses' flanks and the 
 rowels of their spurs showing bloody tokens of the rate at 
 which they traveled. The appearance of the stationary 
 group around the cottages, wearing their buckram suits in 
 order to protect their masking dresses, having their light cart 
 
280 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 for transporting their scenery, and carrying various fantastic 
 properties in their hands for the more easy conveyance, let 
 the riders at once into the character and purpose of the 
 company. 
 
 " You are revelers," said Varney, " designing for Kenil- 
 worth?" 
 
 *" * Recte quidem, Domine spectatissime,^ " answered one of 
 the party. 
 
 " And why the devil stand you here," said Varney, " when 
 your utmost dispatch will but bring you to Kenilworth in 
 time? The Queen dines at Warwick to-morrow, and you 
 loiter here, ye knaves! " 
 
 " In very truth, sir," said a little diminutive urchin, wear- 
 ing a vizard with a couple of sprouting horns of an elegant 
 scarlet hue, having moreover a black serge jerkin drawn close 
 to his body by lacing, garnished with red stockings, and shoes 
 so shaped as to resemble cloven feet — " in very truth, sir, and 
 you are in the right on't. It is my father the devil, who, 
 being taken in labor, has delayed our present purpose, by 
 increasing our company with an imp too many." 
 
 " The devil he has! " answered Varney, whose laugh, how- 
 ever, never eKceeded a sarcastic smile. 
 
 " It is even as the juvenal hath said," added the masquer 
 who spoke first: " our major devil — for this is but our minor 
 one — is even now at * Lucina f er opem,' within that very 
 * tugurium.' " 
 
 " By St. George, or rather by the Dragon, who may be a 
 kinsman of the fiend in the straw, a mo«t comical chance! " 
 said Varney. " How sayst thou, Lamboume, wilt thou stand 
 godfather for the nonce? If the devil were to choose a gos- 
 sip, I know no one more fit for the office." 
 
 " Saving always when my betters are in presence," said 
 Lamboume, with the civil impudence of a servant who knows 
 his services to be so indispensable that his jest will be per- 
 mitted to pass muster. 
 
 " And what is the name of this devil or devil's dam who 
 has timed her turns so strangely?" said Varney. "We can 
 ill afford to spare any of our actors." 
 
 " ' Gaudet nomine Sibyllae,' " said the first speaker: " she is 
 called Sibyl Laneham, wife of Master Richard [Robert] Lane- 
 ham " 
 
 " Clerk of the council-chamber door," said Varney; " why, 
 she is inexcusable, having had experience how to have ordered 
 her matters bettier. But who were those, a man and a woman. 
 
KENILWOUTE, 281 
 
 I think, who rode so hastily up the hill before me even now? 
 Do they belong to yonr company? '' 
 
 Wayland was about to hazard a reply to this alarming in- 
 quiry, when the little diablotin again thrust in his oar. 
 
 " So please you,'' he said, coming close up to Vanrey, and 
 speaking so as not to be overheard by his companions, " the 
 man was our devil major, who has tricks enough to supply the 
 lack of a hundred such as Dame Laneham; and the woman, 
 if you please, is the sage person whose assistance is most par- 
 ticularly necessary to our distressed comrade." 
 
 " Oh, what, you have got the wise woman, then? " said Var-* 
 ney. " Why, truly, she rode like one bound to a place where 
 she was needed. And you have a spare limb of Satan, besides, 
 to supply the place of Mrs. Laneham?" 
 
 " Aye, sir," said the boy, " they are not so scarce in this 
 world as your honor's virtuous eminence would suppose. 
 This master-fiend shall spit a few flashes of fire and eruct a 
 volume or two of smoke on the spot, if it will do you pleasure: 
 you would think he had JEtna in his abdomen." 
 
 " I lack time just now, most hopeful imp of darkness, to 
 witness his performance," said Vamey; "but here is some- 
 thing for you all to drink the lucky hour; and so, as the play 
 says, * God be with your labo^r! ' " 
 
 Thus speaking, he struck his horse with the spurs, and 
 rode on his way. 
 
 Lamboume tarried a moment or two behind his master, and 
 rummaged his pouch for a piece of silver, which he bestowed 
 on the communicative imp, as he said, for his encouragement 
 on his path to the infernal regions, some sparks of whose fire, 
 he said, he could discover flashing from him already. Then, 
 having received the boy's thanks for his generosity, he also 
 spurred his horse, and rode after his master as fast as the fire 
 flashes from flint. 
 
 " And now," said the wily imp, sidling close up to Way- 
 land's horse, and cutting a gambol in the air, which seemed to 
 vindicate his title to relationship with the prince of that ele- 
 ment, " I have told them who you are, do you in return tell 
 me who I am?" 
 
 " Either Flibbertigibbet," answered Wayland Smith, " or 
 else an imp of the devil in good earnest." 
 
 " Thou hast hit it," answered Dickie Sludge; " I am thine 
 own Flibbertigibbet, man; and I have broken forth of bounds, 
 along with my learned preceptor, as I told thee I wo"ld do^ 
 whether he would or not. But what lady hast thou got with 
 
282 WAVBMliSf NOtBLS, 
 
 thee? I saw thou wert at fault the first question was asked, 
 and so I drew up for thy assistance. But I must know all 
 who she is, dear Wayland/' 
 
 "Thou shalt know fifty finer things, my dear ingle/' said 
 Wayland; " but a truce to thine inquiries just now; and since 
 you are bound for Kenilworth, thither will I too, even for the 
 love of thy sweet face and waggish company." 
 
 '' Thou shouldst have said my waggish face and sweet com- 
 pany,'' said Dickie; " but how wilt thou travel with us — I 
 mean in what character? " 
 
 * " E'en in that thou hast assigned me, to be sure^ — as a Jug- 
 gler; thou know'st I am used to the craft," answered Wayland. 
 
 "Aye, but the lady?" answered Flibbertigibbet; "credit 
 me, I think she is one, and thou art in a sea of troubles about 
 her at this moment, as I can perceive by thy fidgeting." 
 
 " Oh, she, man! — -she is a poor sister of mine," said Way- 
 land. " She can sing and play o' the lute, would win the fish 
 out o' the stream." 
 
 " Let me hear her instantly," said the boy. " I love the 
 lute rarely — I love it of all things, though I never heard it." 
 
 " Then how canst thou love it. Flibbertigibbet? " said Way- 
 land. 
 
 "As knights love ladies in old tales," answered Dickie, " on 
 hearsay." 
 
 " Then love it on hearsay a little longer, till my sister is 
 recovered from the fatigue of her journey," said Wayland, 
 muttering afterward betwixt his teeth, " The devil take the 
 imp's curiosity! I must keep fair weather with him, or we 
 shall fare the worse." 
 
 He then proceeded to state to Master Holiday his own 
 talents as a juggler, with those of his sister as a musician. 
 Some proof of his dexterity was demanded, which he gave in 
 such a style of excellence that, delighted at obtaining such an 
 accession to their party, they readily acquiesced in the 
 apology which he offered when a display of his sister's talents 
 was required. The newcomers were invited to partake of the 
 refreshments with which the party were provided; and it was 
 with some difficulty that Wayland Smith obtained an oppor- 
 tunity of being apart with his supposed sister during the 
 meal, of which interval he availed himself to entreat her to 
 forget for the present both her rank and her sorrows, and con- 
 descend, as the most probable chance of remaining concealed, 
 to mix in the society of those with whom she was to travel. 
 
 The countess allowed the necessity of the case, and when 
 
KENILWORTH, 283 
 
 they resumed their journey, endeavored to comply with her 
 guide's advice by addressing herself to a female near her, and 
 expressing her concern for the woman whom they were thus 
 obliged to leave behind them. 
 
 " Oh, she is well attended, madam," replied the dame whom 
 she addressed, who, from her jolly and laughter-loving de- 
 meanor, might have been the very emblem of the Wife of 
 Bath; " and my gossip Laneham thinks as little of these mat- 
 ters as anyone. By the ninth day, an the revels last so long, 
 we shall have her with us at Kenilworth, even if she should 
 travel with her bantling on her back.'' 
 
 There was something in this speech which took away all 
 desire on the Countess of Leicester's part to continue the con- 
 versation; but having broken the charm by speaking to her 
 fellow-traveler first, the good dame, who was to play Eare 
 Gillian of Croydon in one of the interludes, took care that 
 silence did not again settle on the journey, but entertained 
 her mute companion with a thousand anecdotes of revels, from 
 the days of King Harry downward, with the reception given 
 them by the great folk, and all the names of those who played 
 the principal characters, but ever concluding with " They 
 would be nothing to the princely pleasures of Kenilworth." 
 
 '^ And when shall we reach Kenilworth ? " said the count- 
 ess, with an agitation which she in vain attempted to conceal. 
 
 " We that have horses may, with late riding, get to War- 
 wick to-night, and Kenilworth may be distant some four or 
 five miles; but then we must wait till the foot-people come up; 
 althou^gh it is like my good Lord of Leicester will have horses 
 or light carriages to meet them, and bring them up without 
 being travel-toiled, which last is no good preparation, as 
 you may suppose, for dancing before your betters. And yet. 
 Lord help me, I have seen the day I would have tramped five 
 leagues of lea-land, and turned on my toe the whole evening 
 after, as a juggler spins a pewter platter on the point of a 
 needle. But age has clawed me somewhat in his clutch, as 
 the song says; though, ii I like the tune and like my partner, 
 I'll dance the hays yet with any merry lass in Warwickshire 
 that writes that unhappy figure four with a round after it." 
 
 If the countess was overwhelmed with the garrulity of this 
 good dame, Wayland Smith, on his part, had enough to do to 
 sustain and parry the constant attacks made upon him by the 
 indefatigable curiosity of his old acquaintance, Eichard 
 Sludge. Nature had given that arch youngster a prying cast 
 of disposition, which matched admirably with his sharp wit; 
 
284 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 the former inducing him to plant himself as a spy on other 
 people's affairs, and the latter quality leading him perpetually 
 to interfere, after he had made himself master of that which 
 concerned him not. He spent the livelong day in attempt- 
 ing to peer under the countess' muffler, and apparently what 
 he could there discern greatly s-harpened his curiosity. 
 
 " That sister of thine, Wayland," he said, " has a fair neck 
 to have been born in a smithy, and a pretty taper hand to 
 have been used for twirling a spindle; faith, I'll believe in 
 your relationship when the crow's egg is hatched into a 
 cygnet." 
 
 " Go to," said Wayland, " thou art a prating boy, and 
 should be breeched for thine assurance." 
 
 " Well," said the imp, drawing off, " all I say is, remember 
 you have kept a secret from me, and if I give thee not a Eow- 
 land for thine Oliver, my name is not Dickon Sludge! " 
 
 This threat, and the distance at which Hobgoblin kept 
 from him for the rest of the way, alarmed Wayland very 
 much, and he suggested to his pretended sister that, on pre- 
 text of weariness she should express a desire to stop two O'r 
 three miles short of the fair town of Warwick, promising to 
 rejoin the troop in the morning. A small village inn afforded 
 them a resting-place; and it was with secret pleasure that 
 Wayland saw the whole party, including Dickon, pass on, 
 after a courteous farewell, and leave them behind. 
 
 " To-morrow, madam," he said to his charge, " we will, 
 with your leave, again start early, and reach Kenilworth be- 
 fore the rout which are to assemble there." 
 
 The countess gave assent to the proposal of her faithful 
 guide; but, somewhat to his surprise, said nothing farther on 
 the subject, which left Wayland under the disagreeable un- 
 certainty whether or no she had formed any plan for her own 
 future proceedings, as he knew her situation demanded cir- 
 cumspection, although he was but imperfectly acquainted 
 with all its peculiarities. Concluding, however, that she must 
 have friends within the castle, whose advice and assistance 
 she could safely trust, he supposed his task would be best 
 accomplished by conducting her thither in safety, agreeably 
 to her repeated commandft. 
 
CHAPTEE XXV. 
 
 Hark, the bells E-ummon and the bugle calls, 
 
 But she the fairest answers not ; the tide 
 
 Of nobles and of ladies throngs the halls, 
 
 But she the loveliest must in secret hide. 
 
 What eyes were thine, proud prince, which in the gleam 
 
 Of yon gay meteors lost that better sense, 
 
 That o'er the glow-worm doth the star esteem. 
 
 And merit's modest blush o'er courtly insolence ? 
 
 — The Glass Slipper. 
 
 The unfortunate Countess of Leicester had, from her in- 
 fancy upward, been treated by those around her with indul- 
 gence as unbounded as injudicious. The natural sweetness 
 of her disposition had saved her from becoming insolent and 
 ill-humored; but the caprice which preferred the handsome 
 and insinuating Leicester before Tressilian, of whose high 
 honor and unalterable aif ection she herself entertained so firm 
 an opinion — ^that fatal error, which ruined the happiness of 
 her life, had its origin in the mistaken kindness that had 
 spared her childhood the painful, but most necessary, lesson 
 of submission and self-command. From the same indul- 
 gence, it followed that she had only been accustomed to form 
 and to express her wishes, leaving to others the task of fulfill- 
 ing them; and thus, at the most momentous period of her life, 
 she was alike destitute of presence of mind and of ability to 
 form for herself any reasonable or prudent plan of conduct. 
 
 These difficulties pressed on the unfortunate lady with 
 overwhelming force, on the morning which seemed to be the 
 crisis of her fate. Overlooking every intermediate considera- 
 tion, she had only desired to be at Kenilworth, and to ap- 
 proach her husband's presence; and now, when she was in the 
 vicinity of both, a thousand considerations arose at once upon 
 her mind, startling her with accumulated doubts and dangers, 
 some real, some imaginary, and all exalted and exaggerated 
 by a situation alike helpless and destitute of aid and counsel. 
 
 A sleepless night rendered her so weak in the morning that 
 she was altogether unable to attend Wayland's early sum- 
 mons. The trusty guide became extremely distressed on the 
 lady's account, and somewhat alarmed on his own, and was 
 on the point of going alone to Kenilworih, in the hope of 
 discovering Tressilian, and intimating to him the ladv's an- 
 
«86 WAVEBLET NOVELS. 
 
 praach, when about nine in the morning he was summoned 
 to attend her. He found her dressed, and ready for resum- 
 ing her journey, but with a paleness of countenance which 
 alarmed him for her health. She intimated her desire that 
 the horses might be got instantly ready, and resisted with im- 
 patience her guide's request that she would taJ^e some re- 
 freshment before setting forward. "I have had," she said, 
 "a cup of water: the wretch who is dragged to execution 
 needs no stronger cordial, and that may serve me whicn 
 suffices for him; do as I command you.'' Wayland Smith 
 still hesitated. '' What would you have? " said she. " Have 
 I not spoken plainly?" 
 
 " Yes, madam," answered Wayland; " but may I ask what 
 is 3^our farther purpose? I only desire to know, that I may 
 guide myself by your wishes. The whole country is afloat, 
 and streaming toward the Castle of Kenilworth. It will be 
 difficult traveling thither, even if we had the necessary pass- 
 ports for safe-conduct and free admittance. Unknown and 
 unfriended, we may come by mishap. Your ladyship will 
 forgive my speaking my poor mind. Were we not better try 
 to find out the maskers, and again join ourselves with them? " 
 The countess shook her head, and her guide proceeded, 
 *^ Then I see but one other remedy." 
 
 " Speak out, then," said the lady, not displeased, perhaps, 
 that he should thus offer the advice which she was ashamed 
 to ask; "I believe thee faithful — ^what wouldst thou counsel?" 
 
 '^That I should warn Master Tressilian," said Wayland, 
 " that you are in this place. I am right certain he would get 
 to horse with a few of Lord Sussex's followers, and insure 
 your personal safety." 
 
 " And is it to me you advise," said the countess, " to put 
 myself under the protection of Sussex, the unworthy rival of 
 the noble Leicester? " Then, seeing the surprise with which 
 Wayland stared upon her, and afraid of having too strongly 
 intimated her interest in Leicester, she added, "And foi' 
 Tressilian, it must not be: mention not to him, I charge you, 
 my unhappy name; it would but double my misfortunes, and 
 involve Mm. in dangers beyond the power of rescue." She 
 paused; but when she observed that Wayland continued to 
 look on her with that anxious and uncertain gaze which indi- 
 cated a doubt whether her brain was settled, she assumed an 
 air of composure, and added, " Do thou but guide me to 
 Kenilworth Castle, good fellow, and thy task is ended, since 
 I will then judge what farther is to be done. Thou hast yet 
 
KENILWOBTH. 287 
 
 been true to me; here is something that will make thee rich 
 amends." 
 
 She offered the artist a ring, containing a valuable stone. 
 Wayland looked at it, hesitated a moment, and then returned 
 it. " Not," he said, " that I am above your kindness, madam, 
 being but a poor fellow, who have been forced, God help me! 
 to live by worse shifts than the bounty of such a person as 
 you. But, as my old master the farrier used to say to his 
 customers, ' IN'o cure, no pay.' We are not yet in Kenilworth 
 Castle, and it is time enough to discharge your guide, as they 
 say, when you take your boots off. I trust in God your lady- 
 ship is as well assured of fitting reception when you arrive as 
 you may hold yourself certain of my best endeavors to con- 
 duct you thither safely. I go to get the horses; meantime, let 
 me pray you once more, as your poor physician as well as 
 guide, to take some sustenance." 
 
 " I will — I will," said the lady hastily. " Begone — begone 
 instantly! It is in vain I assume audacity," said she, when 
 he left the room; " even this poor groom sees through my 
 affectation of courage, and fathoms the n&vj ground of my 
 fears." 
 
 She then attempted to follow her guide's advice by taking 
 some food, but was compelled to desist, as the effort to swal- 
 low even a single morsel gave her so much uneasiness as 
 amounted well-nigh to suffocation. A moment afterward the 
 horses appeared at the latticed window; the lady mounted, 
 and found that relief from the free air and change of place 
 which is frequently experienced in similar circumstances. 
 
 It chanced well for the countess' purpose that Wayland 
 Smith, whose previous wandering and unsettled life had made 
 him acquainted with almost all England, was intimate with 
 all the by-roads, as well as direct communications, through 
 the beautiful county of Warwick. For such and so great was 
 the throng which flocked in all directions toward Kenilworth, 
 to see the entry of Elizabeth into that splendid mansion of 
 her prime favorite, that the principal foads were actually 
 blocked up and interrupted, and it was only by circuitous by- 
 paths that the travelers could proceed on their journey. 
 
 The Queen's purveyors had been abroad, sweeping the 
 farms and villages of those articles usually exacted during a 
 royal progress, and for which the owners were afterward to 
 obtain a tardy payment from the Board of Green Cloth. The 
 Earl of Leicester's household officers had been scouring the 
 country for the same purpose; and many of his friends and 
 
 i 
 
288 WA VEBLET NO VEL8. 
 
 allies, both near and remote, took this opportunity of ingra- 
 tiating themselves by sending large quantities of provisions 
 and delicacies of all kinds, with game in huge numbers, and 
 whole tuns of the best liquors, foreign and domestic. Thus 
 the highroads were filled with droves of bullocks, sheep, calves, 
 and hogs, and choked with loaded wains, whose axle-trees 
 cracked under their burdens of wine-oasks and hogsheads 
 of ale, and huge hampers of grocery goods, and slaugh- 
 tered game, and salted provisions, and sacks of flour. Per- 
 petual stoppages took place as these wains became entangled; 
 and their rude drivers, swearing and brawling till their wild 
 passions were fully raised, began to debate precedence with 
 their wagon whips and quarter-staves, which occasional riots 
 were usually quieted by a purveyor, deputy-marshal's-man, or 
 some other person in authority, breaking the heads of both 
 parties. 
 
 Here were, besides, players and mummers, jugglers and 
 showmen, of every description, traversing in joyous bands the 
 paths which led to the Palace of Princely Pleasure; for so the 
 traveling minstrels had termed Kenilworth in the songs 
 which already had come forth in anticipation of the revels 
 which were there expected.* In the midst of this motley 
 show, mendicants were exhibiting their real or pretended 
 miseries, forming a strange, though common, contrast be- 
 twixt the vanities and the sorrows of human existence. All 
 these floated along with the immense tide of population, 
 whom mere curiosity had drawn together; and where the me- 
 chanic, in his leathern apron, elbowed the dink and dainty 
 dame, his city mistress; where clowns, with hobnailed shoes, 
 were treading on the kibes of substantial burghers and gen- 
 tlemen of worship; and where Joan of the dairy, with robust 
 pace, and red, sturdy arms, rowed her way onward, amongst 
 those prim and pretty moppets whose sires were knights and 
 squires. 
 
 The throng and confusion was, however, of a gay and 
 cheerful character. ' All came forth to see and to enjoy, and 
 all laughed at the trifling inconveniences which at another 
 time might have chafed their temper. Excepting the occa- 
 sional brawls which we have mentioned among that irritable 
 race the carmen, the mingled sounds which arose from the 
 multitude were those of light-hearted mirth and tiptoe jollity. 
 The musicians preluded on their instruments, the minstrels 
 hummed their songs, the licensed jester whooped betwixt 
 
 * See Pilgrims to Kenilworth. Note 12. 
 
KENILWORTR, 289 
 
 mirth and madness as he brandished his bauble, the morris- 
 dancers jangled their bells, the rustics hallooed and whistled, 
 men laughed loud, and maidens giggled shrill, while many a 
 broad jest flew like a shuttlecock from one party, to be caught 
 in the air and returned from the opposite side of the road by 
 another, at which it was aimed. 
 
 No infliction can be so distressing to a mind absorbed in 
 melancholy as being plunged into a scene of mirth and rev- 
 elry, forming an accompaniment so dissonant from its own 
 feelings. Yet, in the case of the Countess of Leicester, the 
 noise and tumult of this giddy scene distracted her thoughts, 
 and rendered her this sad service, that it became impossible 
 for her to brood on her own misery, or to form terrible antici- 
 pations of her approaching fate. She traveled on, like one in 
 a dream, following implicitly the guidance of Wayland, who, 
 with great address, now threaded his way through the general 
 throng of passengers, now stood still until a favorable oppor- 
 tunity occurred of again moving forward, and frequently 
 turning altogether out of the direct road, followed some cir- 
 cuitous by-path, which brought them into the highway 
 again, after having given them the opportunity of traversing 
 a considerable way with greater ease and rapidity. 
 
 It was thus he avoided Warwick, within whose castle (that 
 fairest monument of ancient and chivalrous splendor which 
 yet remains uninjured by time) Elizabeth had passed the 
 previous night, and where she was to tarry until past noon, 
 at that time the general hour of dinner throughout England, 
 after which repast she was to proceed to Kenilworth. In the 
 mean while, each passing group had something to say in the 
 sovereign's praise, though not absolutely without the usual 
 mixture of satire which qualifies more or less our estimate of 
 our neighbors, especially if they chance to be also our 
 beiters. 
 
 " Heard you," said one, '^ how graciously she spoke to Mas- 
 ter Bailiff and the Recorder, and to good Master Griffin, the 
 preacher, as they kneeled down at her coach window ? " 
 
 "Aye, and how she said to little Aglionby, 'Master Re- 
 corder, men would have persuaded me that you were afraid 
 of me, but truly I think, so well did you reckon up to me the 
 virtues of a sovereign, that I have more reason to be afraid 
 of you.' And then with what grace she took the fair- 
 wrought purse with the twenty gold sovereigns, seeming as 
 though sh-e would not willingly handle it, and yet taking it 
 withal." 
 
290 WA YERLEY NO VEL8. 
 
 " Aye — aye/' said another, " her fingers closed on it pretty 
 willingly, methought, when all was done; and methought, too, 
 she weighed them for a second in her hand, as she would say, 
 * I hope they be avoirdupois.' " 
 
 " She needed not, neighbor," said a third; " it is only when 
 the corporation pay the accounts of a poor handicraft like 
 me that they put him off with dipt coin. Well, there is a 
 God above all. Little Master Eecorder, since that is the 
 word, will be greater now than ever." 
 
 " Come, good neighbor," said the first speaker, " be not 
 envious. She is a good queen, and a generous. She gave 
 the purse to the Earl of Leicester." 
 
 " I envious? beshrew thy heart for the word! " replied the 
 handicraft. " But she will give all to the Earl of Leicester 
 anon, methinks." 
 
 " You are turning ill, lady," said Wayland Smith to the 
 Countess of Leicester, and proposed that she should draw off 
 from the road, and halt till she recovered. But, subduing 
 her feelings at this and different speeches to the same pur- 
 pose which caught her ear as they passed on, she insisted that 
 her guide should proceed to Kenilworth with all the haste 
 which the numerous impediments of their journey permitted. 
 Meanwhile, Wayland's anxiety at her repeated fits of indispo- 
 sition and her obvious distraction of mind, was hourly in- 
 creasing, and he became extremely desirous that, according 
 to her reiterated requests, she should be safely introduced 
 into the castle, where, he doubted not, she was secure of a 
 kind reception, though she seemed unwilling to reveal on 
 whom she reposed her hopes. 
 
 " An I were once rid of this peril," thought he, " and if any 
 man shall find me playing squire of the body to a damosel- 
 errant, he shall have leave to beat my brains out with my own 
 sledge-hammer! " 
 
 At length the princely castle appeared, upon improving 
 which, and the domains around, the Earl of Leicester had, it 
 is said, expended sixty thousand pounds sterling, a sum equal 
 to half a million of our present money. 
 
 The outer wall of this splendid and gigantic structure 
 inclosed seven acres, a part of which was occupied by exten- 
 sive stables, and by a pleasure garden, with its trim arbors 
 and parterres, and the rest formed the large base^court, or 
 outer yard, of the noble castle. The lordly structure itself, 
 which rose near the center of this spacious inclosure, was 
 composed of a huge pile of magnificent castellated buildings. 
 
KENILWORTH. 291 
 
 apparently of different ages, surrounding an inner court, and 
 bearing, in the names attached to each portion of the mag- 
 nificent mass, and in the armorial bearings which were there 
 blazoned, the emblems of mighty chiefs who had long passed 
 away, and whose history, could Ambition have lent ear to it, 
 might have read a lesson to the haughty favorite who had 
 now acquired, and was augmenting, the fair domain. A 
 large and massive keep, which formed the citadel of the 
 castle, was of uncertain though great antiquity. It bore the 
 name of Caesar, perhaps from its resemblance to that in 
 the Tower of London so called. Some antiquaries ascribe its 
 foundation to the time of Kenelph, from whom the castle had 
 its name, a Saxon king of Mercia, and others to an early era 
 after the Norman Conquest. On the exterior walls frowned 
 the scutcheon of the Clintons, by whom they were founded in 
 the reign of Henry I., and of the yet more redoubted Simon 
 de Montfort, by whom, during the Barons' Wars, Kenilworth 
 was long held out against Henry III. Here Mortimer, Earl 
 of March, famous alike for his rise and his fall, had once 
 gayly reveled in Kenilworth, while his dethroned sovereign, 
 Edward II., languished in its dungeons. Old John of Gaunt, 
 *' time^honored Lancaster,^' had widely extended the castle, 
 erecting that noble and massive pile which yet bears the 
 name of Lancaster's Buildings; and Leicester himself had 
 outdone the former possessors, princely and powerful as they 
 were, by erecting another immense structure, which now lies 
 crushed under its own ruins, the monument of its owner's 
 ambition. The external wall of this royal castle was, on the 
 south and west sides, adorned and defended by a lake partly 
 artificial, across which Leicester had constructed a stately 
 bridge, that Elizabeth might enter the castle by a path 
 hitherto untrodden, instead of the usual entrance to the 
 northward, over which he had erected a gate-house, or bar- 
 bican, which still exists, and is equal in extent, and superior 
 in architecture, to the baronial castle of many a northern 
 chief. 
 
 Beyond the lake lay an extensive chase, full of red deer, 
 fallow deer, roes, and every species of game, and abounding 
 with lofty trees, from amongst which the extended front and 
 massive towers of the castle were seen to rise in majesty and 
 beauty. We cannot but add, that of this lordly palace, wliere 
 princes feasted and heroes fought, now in the bloody earnest 
 of storm and siege, and now in the games of chivalry, where 
 beauty dealt the prize which valor won, all is now desolate. 
 
2M WAV£JIiLBr mYt!L8, 
 
 The bed of the lake is but a rushy swamp; and the maasive 
 ruins of the castle only serve to show what their splendor once 
 was, and to impress on the musing visitor the transitory value 
 of human possessions, and the happiness of those who enjoy 
 a humble lot in virtuous contentment. 
 
 It was with far different feelings that the unfortunate 
 Countess of Leicester viewed those gray and massive towers, 
 when she first beheld them rise above the embowering and 
 richly shaded woods, over which they seemed to preside. 
 She, the undoubted wife of the great earl, of Elizabeth's 
 minion and England's mighty favorite, was approaching the 
 presence of her husband and that husband's sovereign under 
 the protection, rather than the guidance, of a poor juggler; 
 and though unquestioned mistress of that proud castle, 
 whose lightest word ought to have had force sufficient to 
 make its gates leap from their massive hinges to receive her, 
 yet she could not conceal from herself the difficulty and peril 
 which she must experience in gaining admission into her own 
 halls. 
 
 The risk and difficulty, indeed, seemed to increase every 
 moment, and at length threatened altogether to put a stop 
 to her farther progress, at the great gate leading to a broad 
 and fair road, which, traversing the breadth of the chase for 
 the space of two miles, and commanding several most beauti- 
 ful views of the castle and lake, terminated at. the newly con- 
 structed bridge, to which it was an appendage, and which was 
 destined to form the Queen's approach to the castle on that 
 memorable occasion. 
 
 Here the countess and Wayland found the gate at the end 
 of this avenue, which opened on the Warwick road, guarded 
 by a body of the Queen's mounted yeomen of the guard, 
 armed in corslets richly carved and gilded, and wearing 
 morions instead of bonnets, having their carabines resting 
 with the butt-end on their thighs. These guards, distin- 
 guished for strength and stature, who did duty wherever the 
 Queen went in pei^on, were here stationed under the direc- 
 tion of a pursuivant, graced with the bear and ragged staff on 
 his arm, as belonging to the Earl of Leicester, and peremp- 
 torily refused all admittance, excepting to such as were guests 
 invited to the festival, or persons who were to perform some 
 part in the mirthful exhibitions which were proposed. 
 
 The press was of consequence great around the entrance, 
 and persons of all kinds presented every sort of plea, for ad- 
 mittance; to which the guards turned an inexorable ear. 
 
KENILWORTH, 293 
 
 pleading in return to fair words, and even to fair offers, the 
 strictness of their orders, founded on the Queen's well-known 
 dislike to the rude pressing of a multitude. With those 
 whom such reasons did not serve, they dealt more rudely, re- 
 pelling them without ceremony hy the pressure of their 
 powerful harbed horses, and good round blows from the stock 
 of their carabines. These last maneuvers produced undu- 
 lations amongst the crowd which rendered Wayland much 
 afraid that he might perforce be separated from his charge in 
 the throng. Neither did he know what excuse to make in 
 order to obtain admittance, and he was debating the matter 
 in his head with great uncertainty, when the earl's pursui- 
 vant, having cast an eye upon him, exclaimed, to his no small 
 surprise, " Yeomen, make room for the fellow in the orange- 
 tawny cloak. Come forward, sir coxcomb, and make haste. 
 What, in the fiend's name, has kept you waiting? Come for- 
 ward with your bale of woman's gear." 
 
 While the pursuivant gave Wayland this pressing yet un- 
 courteous invitation, which, for a minute or two, he could 
 not imagine was applied to him, the yeomen speedily mad'e a 
 free passage for him, while, only cautioning his companion 
 to keep the muffler close around her face, he entered the gate 
 leading her palfrey, but with such a drooping crest, and such 
 a look of conscious fear and anxiety, that the crowd, not 
 greatly pleased at any rate with the preference bestowed upon 
 them, accompanied their admission with hooting and a loud 
 laugh of derision. 
 
 Admitted thus within the chase, though with no very flat- 
 tering notice or distinction, Wayland and his charge rode 
 forward, musing what difficulties it would be next their lot to 
 encounter, through the broad avenue, which was sentineled 
 on either side by a long line of retainers, armed with swords 
 and partizans, richly dressed in the Earl of Leicester's 
 liveries and bearing his cognizance of the bear and ragged 
 staff, each placed within three paces of his comrade, so as to 
 line the whole road from the entrance into the park to the 
 bridge. And, indeed, when the lady obtained the first com- 
 manding view of the castle, with its stately towers rising from 
 within a long sweeping line of outward walls, ornamented 
 with battlements, and turrets, and platforms at every point of 
 defense, with many a banner streaming from its walls, and 
 such a bustle of gay crests and waving plumes disposed on the 
 terraces and battlements, and all the gay and gorgeous scene, 
 her heart, unaccustomed to such splendor, sank as if it died 
 
294 WAYERLET NOVELS. 
 
 within her, and for a moment she asked herself what she had 
 offered up to Leicester to deserve to become the partner of 
 this princely splendor. But her pride and generous spirit 
 resisted the whisper which bade her despair. 
 
 " I have given him/' she said, " all that woman has to give. 
 Name and fame, heart and hand, have I given the lord of all 
 this magnificence at the altar, and England's Queen could 
 give him no more. He is my husbariS; I am his wife. 
 Whom God hath joined, man cannot sunder. I will be bold 
 in claiming my right; even the bolder, that I come thus un- 
 expected, and thus forlorn. I know my noble Dudley well! 
 He will be something impatient ait my disobeying him; but 
 Amy will weep, and Dudley will forgive her." 
 
 These meditations were interrupted by ^ cry of surprise 
 from her guide Wayland, who suddenly felt himself grasped 
 firmly round the body by a pair of long thin black arms, 
 belonging to someone who had dropped himself out of an 
 oak tree upon the croup of his horse, amidst the shouts of 
 laughter which burst from the sentinels. 
 
 '"This must be the devil or Flibbertigibbet again!" said 
 Wayland, with a vain struggle to disengage himself and 
 unhorse the urchin who clung to him. "Do Kenilworth 
 oaks bear such acorns? " 
 
 " In sooth do they, Master Wayland," said his unexpected 
 adjunct, "and many others too hard for you to crack, for 
 as old as you are, without my teaching you. How would you 
 have passed the pursuivant at the upper gate yonder, had not 
 I warned him our principial juggler was to follow us? And 
 here have I waited for you, having clambered up into the tree 
 from the top of our wain, and I suppose they are all mad for 
 want of me by this time." 
 
 " Nay, theii, thou art a limb of the devil in good earnest," 
 said Wayland. " I give thee way, good imp, and will walk by 
 thy counsel; only, as thou art powerful, be merciful." 
 
 As he spoke, they approached a strong tower, at the south 
 extremity of the long bridge we have mentioned, which served 
 to protect the outer gateway of the Castle of Kenilworth. 
 
 TJnder such disastrous circumstances, and in such singular 
 company, did the unfortunate Countess of Leicester approach 
 for the first time the magnificent abode of her almost princely 
 husband.* 
 
 * See Amy BobMurt at SenUworth. Note 18. 
 
 I 
 
CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 Snug. Have you the lion's part written ? Pray you, if it be, give it me, fot 
 I am slow to study. 
 Q^ince. You may do it extempore, for it is nothing but roaring. 
 
 — Midsummer NighVs Dream. 
 
 When the Countess of Leicester arrived at the outer gate 
 of the Castle of Kenilworth, she found the tower, beneath 
 which its ample portal arch opened, guarded in a singular 
 manner. Upon the battlements were placed gigantic warders, 
 with clubs, battle-axes, and other implements of ancienit war- 
 fare, designed to represent the soldiers of King Arthur; those 
 primitive Britons by whom, according to romantic tradition, 
 the castle had been first tenanted, though history carried back 
 its antiquity only to the times of the Heptarchy. Some of these 
 tremendous figures were real men, dressed up with vizards 
 and buskins; others were mere pageants composed of paste- 
 board and buckram, which, viewed from beneath, and min- 
 gled with those that were real, formed a sufficiently striking 
 representation of what was intended. But the gigantic porter 
 who waited at the gaie beneath, and actually discharged the 
 duties of warder, owed none of his terrors to fictitious means. 
 He was a man whose huge stature, thews, sinews, and bulk 
 in proportion, would have enabled him ix) enact Colbrand, 
 Ascapart, or any other giant of romance, without raising him- 
 self nearer to heaven even by the altitude of a chopin.* The 
 legs and knees of this son of Anak were bare, as were his 
 arms, from a span below the shoulder; but his feet were de- 
 fended with sandals, fastened with cross straps of scarlet 
 leather, studded with brazen knobs. A close jerkin of scarlet 
 velvet, looped with gold, with short breeches of the same, 
 covered his body and a part of his limbs; and he wore on his 
 shoulders, instead of a cloak, the skin of a black bear. The 
 head of this formidable person was uncovered, except by his 
 shaggy black hair, which descended on either side around 
 features of that huge, lumpish, and heavy cast which 
 are often annexed to men of very uncommon size, and 
 which, notwithstanding some distinguished exceptions, have 
 Ci-eated a general prejudice against giants, as being a dull and 
 
 * See Note 14. 
 S96 
 
296 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 sullen kind of persons. This tremendous warder was ap- 
 propriately armed with a heavy club spiked with steel. In 
 fine, he represented excellently one of those giants of popular 
 romance who figure in every fairy tale or legend of knight- 
 errantry. 
 
 The demeanor of this modem Titan, when Wayland Smith 
 bent his attention to him, had in it something arguing much 
 mental embarrassment and vexation; for sometimes he sat 
 down for an instant on a massive stone bench, which seemed 
 placed for his accommodation beside the gateway, and then 
 ever and anon he started up, scratching his huge head, and 
 striding to and fro on his post, like one under a fit of impa- 
 tience and anxiety. It was while the porter was pacing be- 
 fore the gate in this agitated manner that Wayland, mod- 
 estly, yet as a matter of course (not, however, without some 
 mental misgiving), was about to pass him and enter the portal 
 arch. The porter, however, stopped his progress, bidding 
 him, in a thundering voice, " Stand back! " and enforcing his 
 injunction by heaving up his steel-shod mace, and dashing 
 it on the ground before Wayland's horse's nose with such 
 vehemence that the pavement flashed fire and the archway 
 rang to the clamor. Wayland, availing himself of Dickie's 
 hint, began to state that he belonged to a band of performers 
 to which his presence was indispensable, that he had been 
 accidentally detained behind, and much to the same purpose. 
 But the warder was inexorable, and kept muttering and mur- 
 muring something betwixt his teeth, which Wayland could 
 make little of; and addressing betwixt whiles a refusal of ad- 
 mittance, couched in language which was but too intelligible. 
 A specimen of his speech might run thus: " What, how now, 
 my masters? (To himself) Here's a stir — here's a coil. 
 (Then to Wayland) You are a loitering knave, and shall have 
 no entrance. (Again to himself) Here's a throng — here's a 
 thrusting. I shall ne'er get through with it. Here's a — 
 humph — ha. (To Wayland) Back from the gate, or I'll 
 break the pate of thee. (Once more to himself) Here's a — 
 no, I shall never get through it." 
 
 "Stand still," whispered Flibbertigibbet into Wayland's 
 ear; " I know where the shoe pinches, and will tame him in -M 
 an instant." fl 
 
 He dropped down from the horse, and skipping up to the 
 parter, plucked him by the tail of the bearskin, so as to induce 
 him to decline his huge head, and whispered something in his 
 ear. Not at the command of the lord of some Eastern talis- 
 
KENILWOBTR. 29t 
 
 man did ever Afrite change his horrid frown into a look of 
 smooth suhmission more suddenly than the gigantic porter of 
 Kenilworth relaxed the terrors of his look at the instant 
 Flibbertigibbefs whisper reached his ears. He flung his club 
 upon the ground and caught up Dickie Sludge, raising him 
 to such a distance from the earth as might have proved peril- 
 ous had he chanced to let him slip. 
 
 " It is even so/' he said, with a thundering sound of exul- 
 tation — "it is even so, my little dandieprat. But who the 
 devil could teach it thee? " 
 
 "Do not thou care about that," said Flibbertigibbet; 
 
 "but " he looked at Wayland and the lady, and then 
 
 sunk what he had to say in a whisper, which needed not be a 
 loud one, as the giant held him for his convenience close to 
 his ear. The porter then gave Dickie a warm caress, and set 
 him on the ground with the same care which a careful house- 
 wife uses in replacing a cracked china cup upon her mantel- 
 piece, calling out at the same time to Wayland and the lady, 
 "In with you — ^in with you; and take heed how you come 
 too late another day when I chance to be porter." 
 
 " Aye — aye, in with you," added Flibbertigibbet; " I must 
 stay a short space with mine honest Philistine, my Goliath of 
 Gath here; but I will be Avith you anon, and at the bottom of 
 all your secrets, were they as deep and dark as the castie dun- 
 geon." 
 
 " I do believe thou wouldst," said Wayland; " but I trust 
 the secret will be soon out of my keeping, and then I shall 
 care the less whether thou or anyone knows it." 
 
 They now crossed the entrance tower, which obtained the 
 name of the Gallery Tower from the following circumstance: 
 The whole bridge, extending from the entrance to another 
 tower on the opposite side of the lake, called Mortimer's 
 Tower, was so disposed as to make a spacious tilt-yard, about 
 one hundred and thirty yards in length and ten in breadth, 
 strewed with the finest sand, and defended on either side by 
 strong and high palisades. The broad and fair gallery, des- 
 tined for the ladies who were to witness the feats of chivalry 
 presented on this area, was erected on the northern side of 
 fhe outer tower to which it gave name. Our travelers passed 
 slowly along the bridge or tilt-yard, and arrived at Mortimer's 
 Tower, at its farthest extremity, through which the approach 
 led into the outer or base court of the oastle. Mortimer's 
 Tower bore on its front the scutcheon of the Earl of March, 
 whose daring ambition overthrew the throne of Edward II., 
 
298 WAYEBLET NOVELS, 
 
 and aspired to share his power with the " She-wolf of 
 France," to whom the unhappy monarch was wedded. The 
 
 fate which opened under this ominous memorial was guarded 
 y many warders in rich liveries; but they offered no oppo- 
 sition to the entrance of the countess and her guide, who, 
 having passed by license of the principal porter at the Gallery 
 Tower, were not, it may be supposed, liable to interruption 
 from his deputies. They entered accordingly, in silence, the 
 great outward court of the castle, having then full before 
 them that vast and lordly pile, with all its stately towers, 
 each gate open, as if in sign of unlimited hospitality, and the 
 apartments filled with noble guests of every degree, besides 
 dependents, retainers, domestics of every description and 
 all the appendages and promoters of mirth and revelry. 
 
 Amid this stately and busy scene, Wayland halted his 
 horse, and looked upon the lady, as if waiting her commands 
 what was next to be done, since they had safely reached the 
 place of destination. As she remained silent, Wayland, after 
 waiting a minute or two, ventured to ask her, in direct terms, 
 what were her next commands. She raised her hand to her 
 forehead, as if in the act of collecting her thoughts and reso- 
 lution, while she answered him in a low and suppressed voice, 
 like the murmurs of one who speaks in a dream. " Com- 
 mands! I may indeed claim right to command, but who is 
 there will obey me?" 
 
 Then suddenly raising her head, like one who has formed 
 a decisive resolution, she addressed a gayly dressed domestic, 
 who was crossing the court with importance and bustle in his 
 countenance. " Stop, sir," she said, " I desire to speak with 
 the Earl of Leicester." 
 
 " With whom, an it please you? " said the man, surprised at 
 the demand; and then looking upon the mean equipage of 
 her who used toward him such a tone of authority, he added, 
 with insolence, " Why, what Bess of Bedlam is this, would 
 ask to see my lord on such a day as the present ? " 
 
 " Friend," said the countess, " be not insolent; my business 
 with the earl is most urgent." 
 
 "You must get someone else to do it, were it thrice as 
 urgent," said the fellow. " I should summon my lord from 
 the Queen's royal presence to do your business, should I? I 
 were like to be thanked with a horse- whip. I marvel our old 
 porter took not measure of such ware with his club, instead 
 of giving them passage; but his brain is addled with getting 
 his speech by heart." 
 
KBNILWORTH. 299 
 
 Two or three persons stopped, attracted by the fleering way 
 in which the serving-man expressed himself; and Way land, 
 alarmed both for himself and the lady, hastily addressed him- 
 self to one who appeared the most civil, and thrusting a piece 
 of money into his hand, held a moment's counsel with him 
 on the subject of finding a place of temporary retreat for the 
 lady. The person to whom he spoke, being one in some 
 authority, rebuked the others for their incivility, and com- 
 manding one fellow to take care of the strangers' horses, he 
 desired them to follow him. The countess retained pres- 
 ence of mind sufficient to see that it was absolutely necessary 
 she should comply with his request; and, leaving the rude 
 lackeys and grooms to crack their Ijrutal jests about light 
 heads, light heels, and so forth, Wayland and she followed in 
 silence the deputy-usher, who undertook to be their 
 conductor. 
 
 They entered the inner court of the castle by the great 
 gateway, which extended betwixt the principal keep, or don- 
 jon, called Caesar's Tower, and a stately building which passed 
 by the name of King Henry's Lodging, and were thus placed 
 in the center of the noble pile, which presented on its differ- 
 ent fronts magnificent specimens of every species of castel- 
 lated architecture, from the Conquest to the reign of Eliza- 
 beth, with the appropriate style and ornaments of each. 
 
 Across this inner court also they were conducted by their 
 guide to a small but strong tower, occupying the northeast 
 angle of the building adjacent to the great hall, and filling 
 up a space betwixt the immense range of kitchens and the 
 end of the great hall itself. The lower part of this tower was 
 occupied by some of the household officers of Leicester, owing 
 to its convenient vicinity to the places where their duty lay; 
 but in the upper story, which was reached by a narrow wind- 
 ing stair, was a small octangular chamber, which, in the great 
 demand for lodgings, had been on the present occasion fitted 
 up for the reception of guests, though generally said to have 
 been used as a place of confinement for some unhappy person 
 who had been there murdered. Tradition called this prisoner 
 Mervyn, and transferred his name to the tower. That it had 
 been used as a prison was not improbable; for the floor of 
 each story was arched, the walls of tremendous thickness, 
 while the space of the chamber did not exceed fifteen feet in 
 diameter. The window, however, was pleasant, though nar- 
 row, and commanded a delightful view of what was called the 
 Pleaaance — a space of ground inclosed and decorated with 
 
300 WAVEBLEY NOVELS. 
 
 arches, trophies, statues, fountains, and other architectural 
 monuments, which formed one access from the castle itself 
 into the garden. There was a bed in the apartment, and 
 other preparations for the reception of a guest, to which the 
 countess paid but slight attention, her notice being instantly 
 arrested by the sight of writing-materials, placed on the table 
 (not very commonly to be found in the bedrooms of those 
 days), which instantly suggested the idea of writing to 
 Leicester, and remaining private until she had received his 
 answer. 
 
 The deputy-usher, having introduced them into this com- 
 modious apartment, courteously asked Way land, whose gener- 
 osity he had experienced, whether he could do anything 
 farther for his service. Upon receiving a gentle hint that 
 some refreshment would not be unacceptable, he presently 
 conveyed the smith to the buttery-hatch, where dressed pro- 
 visions of all sorts were distributed, with hospitable profu- 
 sion, to all who asked for them. Wayland was readily sup- 
 plied with some light provisions, such as he thought would 
 best suit the faded appetite of the lady, and did not omit the 
 opportunity of himself making a hasty but hearty meal on 
 more substantial fare. He then returned to the apartment 
 in the turret, where he found the countess, who had finished 
 her letter to Leicester; and, in lieu of a seal and silken thread, 
 had secured it with a braid of her own beautiful tresses, fas- 
 tened by what is called a true-love knot. 
 
 " Good friend," said she to Wayland, " whom God hath 
 sent to aid me at my utmost need, I do beseech thee, as the 
 last trouble you shall take for an unfortunate lady, to deliver 
 this letter to the noble Earl of Leicester. Be it received as it 
 may," she said, with features agitated betwixt hope and fear, 
 "thou, good fellow, shalt have no more cumber with me. 
 But I hope the best; and if ever lady made a poor man rich, 
 thou hast surely deserved it at my hand, should my happy 
 days ever come round again. Give it, I pray you, into Lord 
 Leicester's own hand, and mark how he looks on receiving it." 
 Wayland, on his part, readily undertook the commission, but 
 anxiously prayed the lady, in his turn, to partake of some 
 refreshment; in which he at length prevailed, more through 
 importunity, and her desire to see him begone on his errand, 
 than from any inclination the countess felt to comply with his 
 request. He then left her, advising her to lock her door on 
 the inside, and not to stir from her little apartment, and went 
 to seek an opportunity of discharging her errand, as well as 
 
KENILWORTH. 301 
 
 of carr}dng into effect a purpose of his own which circum- 
 gtances had induced him to form. 
 
 In fact, from the conduct of the lady during the journey, 
 her long fits of profound silence, the irresolution and uncer- 
 tainty which appeared to pen^ade all her movements, and the 
 obvious incapacity of thinking and acting for herself, under 
 which she seemed to labor, Wayland had formed the not im- 
 probable opinion that the difficulties of her situation had in 
 some degree affected her understanding. 
 
 When she had escaped from the seclusion of Cunmor Place, 
 and the dangers to which she was there exposed, it would 
 have seemed her most rational course to retire to her father's 
 or elsewhere, at a distance from the power of those by whom 
 these dangers had been created. When, instead of doing so, 
 she demanded to be conveyed to Kenilworth, Wayland had 
 been only able to account for her conduct, by supposing that 
 she meant to put herself under the tutelage of Tressilian, and 
 to appeal to the protection of the Queen. But now, instead 
 of following this natural course, she intrusted him with a 
 letter to Leicester, the patron of Yamey, and within whose 
 jurisdiction at least, if not under his express authority, all 
 the evils she had already suffered were inflicted upon her. 
 This seemed an unsafe, and even a desperate, measure, and 
 Wayland felt anxiety for his own safety, as well as that of the 
 lady, should he execute her commission before he had secured 
 the advice and countenance of a protector. He therefore re- 
 solved, before delivering the letter to Leicester, that he would 
 seek out Tressilian, and communicate to him the arrival of 
 the lady at Kenilworth, and thus at once rid himself of all 
 farther responsibility and devolve the task of guiding and 
 protecting this unfortunate lady upon the patron who had at 
 first employed him in her service. 
 
 "He will be a better judge than I am,'' said Wayland, 
 *' whether she is to be gratified in this humor of appeal to my 
 Lord of Leicester, which seems like an act of insanity; and, 
 therefore, I will turn the matter over in his hands, deliver 
 him the letter, receive what they list to give me by way of 
 guerdon, and then show the Castle of Kenilworth a pair of 
 light heels; for, after the work I have been engaged in, it 
 will be, I fear, neither a safe nor wholesome place of resi- 
 dence; and I would rather shoe colts on the coldest common 
 in England than share in their gayest revels.^' 
 
CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 In my time I have seen a boy do wonders. 
 Bobin, the red tinker, had a boy 
 Would ha' run through a cat-hole. 
 
 — The Coxcomb. 
 
 Amid the universal bustle which filled the castle and its 
 environs, it was no easy matter to find out any individual; 
 and Wayland was still less likely to light upon Tressilian, 
 whom he sought so anxiously, because, sensible of the danger 
 of attracting attention, in the cdrcumstances in which he was 
 placed, he dared not make general inquiries among the re- 
 tainers or domestics of Leicester. He learned, however, by 
 indirect questions, that, in all probability, Tressilian mus-t 
 have been one of a large party of gentlemen in attendance on 
 the Earl of Sussex, who had accompanied their patron that 
 morning to Kenilworth, when Leicester had received them 
 with marks of the most formal respect and distinction. He 
 farther learned that both earls, with their followers, and 
 many other nobles, knights, and gentlemen, had taken horse, 
 and gone toward Warwick several hours since, for the pur- 
 pose of escorting the Queen to Kenilworth. 
 
 Her Majesty's arrival, like other great events, was delayed 
 from hour to hour; and it was now announced by a breath- 
 less post that, her Majesty being detained by her gracious de- 
 sire to receive the homage of her lieges who had thronged to 
 wait upon her at Warwick, it would be the hour of twilight 
 ere she entered the castle. The intelligence released for a 
 time those who were upon duty in the immediate expectation 
 of the Queen's appearance, and ready to play their part in the 
 solemnities with which it was to be accompanied; and Way- 
 land, seeing several horsemen enter the castle, was not with- 
 out hopes that Tressilian might be of the number. That he 
 might not lose an opportunity of meeting his patron in the 
 event of this being the case, Wayland placed himself in the 
 base-court of the castle, near Mortimer's Tower, and watched 
 everyone who went or came by the bridge, the extremity of 
 which was protected by that building. Thus stationed, 
 nobody could enter or leave the castle without his observa- 
 tion, and most anxiously did he study the garb and counte- 
 nance of every horseman, as, passing from under the oppo- 
 
KENILWORTH. 303 
 
 site Gallery Tower, they paced slowly, or curveted, along 
 the tilt-yard, and approached the entrance of the basencourt. 
 
 But while Wayland gazed thus eagerly to discover him 
 whom he saw not, he was pulled by the sleeve by one by 
 whom he himself would not willingly have been seen. 
 
 This was Dickie Sludge, or Flibbertigibbet, who, like the 
 imp whose name he bore, and whom he had been accoutered 
 in order to resemble, seemed to be ever at the ear of those 
 who thought least of him. Whatever were Wayland's inter- 
 nal feelings, he judged it necessary to express pleasure at their 
 unexpected meeting. 
 
 "Ha? is it thou, my minikin — ^my miller's thumb — ^my 
 prince of cacodemons — my little mouse ? " 
 
 " Aye," said Dickie, " the mouse which gnawed asunder the 
 toils, just when the lion who was caught in them began to 
 loo-k wonderfully like an ass." 
 
 "Why, thou little hop-the-gutter, thou art as sharp as 
 vinegar this afternoon! But tell me, how didst thou come off 
 with yonder jolter-headed giant, whom I left thee with? I 
 was afraid he would have stripped thy clothes, and so swal- 
 lowed thee, as men peel and eat a roasted, chestnut." 
 
 " Had he done so," replied the boy, " he would have had 
 more brains in his guts than ever he had in his noddle. But 
 the giant is a courteous monster, and more grateful than 
 manv other folk whom I have helped at a pinch. Master Way- 
 land Smith." 
 
 "Beshrew me. Flibbertigibbet," replied Wayland, "but 
 thou art sharper than a Sheffield whittle! I would I knew by 
 what charm you muzzled yonder old bear." 
 
 " Aye, that is in your own manner," answered Dickie: " you 
 think fine speeches will pass muster instead of good-will. 
 However, as to this honest porter, you must know that, when 
 we presented ourselves at the gate yonder, his brain was over- 
 burdened with a speech that had been penned for him, and 
 which proved rather an overmatch for his gigantic faculties. 
 Now this same pithy oration had been indited, like sundry 
 others, by my learned magister, Erasmus Holiday, so I had 
 heard it often enough to remember every line. As soon as I 
 heard him blundering and floundering, like a fish upon dry 
 land, through the first verse, and perceived him at a stand, I 
 knew where the shoe pinched, and helped him to the next 
 word, when he caught me up in an ecstasy, even as you saw 
 but now. I promised, as the price of your admission, to hide 
 me xmder his bearish gaberdine and prompt him in the hour 
 
30i WAVEBLET NOVELS. 
 
 of need. I have just now been getting some food in the 
 castle, and am about to return to Mm." 
 
 " That's right — that's right, my dear Dickie/' replied Way- 
 land; " haste thee, for Heaven's sake! else the poor giant will 
 be utteriy disconsolate for want of his dwarfish auxiliary. 
 Away with thee, Dickie! " 
 
 " Aye — aye! " answered the boy. " Away with Dickie, 
 when we have got what good of him we can. You will not 
 let me know the story of this lady, then, who is as much sla- 
 ter of thine as I am? " 
 
 "Why, what good would it do thee, thou silly elf?" said 
 Wayland. 
 
 " Oh, stand ye on these terms? " said the boy. " Well, I 
 care not greatly about the matter; only, I never smell out a 
 secret, but I try to be either at the right or the wrong end of 
 it, and so good-evening to ye." 
 
 " Nay, but, Dickie," said Wayland, who knew the boy's 
 restless and intriguing disposition too well not to fear his 
 enmity — " stay, my dear Dickie: part not with old friends so 
 shortly! Thou shalt know all I know of the lady one day." 
 
 " Aye," said Dickie; " and that day may prove a nigh one. 
 Fare thee well, Wayland; I will to my large-limbed friend, 
 who, if he have not so sharp a wit as some folk, is at least 
 more grateful for the service which other folk render him. 
 And so again, good-evening to ye." 
 
 So saying, he cast a somerset through the gateway, and, 
 lighting on the bridge, ran, with the extraordinary agility 
 which was one of his distinguishing attributes, toward the 
 Gallery Tower, and was out of sight in an instant. 
 
 "I would to Grod I were safe out of this castle again!" 
 prayed Wayland, internally; " for now that this mischievous 
 imp has put his finger in the pie, it cannot but prove a mess 
 fit for the devil's eating. I would to Heaven Master Tres- 
 silian would appear! " 
 
 Tresflilian, whom he was thus anxiously expecting in one 
 direction, had returned to Kenilworth by another access. It 
 was indeed true, as Wayland had conjectured, that, in the 
 earlier part of the day, he had accompanied the earls on their 
 cavalcade toward Warwick, not without hope that he might 
 in that town hear some tidings of his emissary. Being dis- 
 appointed in this expectation, and observing Vamey amongst 
 Leicester's attendants, seeming as if he had some purpose of 
 advancing to and addressing him, he conceived, in the present 
 
KBNILWORTH, 30/1 
 
 circTimstances, it was wisest to avoid the interview. He 
 therefore left the presence-chamber when the high-sheriff of 
 the county was in the very midst of his dutiful address to her 
 Majesty; and, mounting his horse, rode back to Kenilworth 
 by a remote and circuitous road, and entered the castle by a 
 small sally-port in the western wall, at which he was readily 
 admitted as one of the followers of the Earl of Sussex, toward 
 whom Leicester had commanded the utmost courtesy to be 
 exercised. It was thus that he met not Wayland, who was 
 impatiently watching his arrival, and whom he himself would 
 have been, at least, equally desirous to see. 
 
 Having delivered his horse to the charge of his attendant, 
 he walked for a space in the Pleasance and in the garden, 
 rather to indulge in comparative solitude his own reflections 
 than to admire those singular beauties of nature and art 
 which the magnificence of Leicester had there assembled. 
 The greater part of the persons of condition had left the 
 castle for the present, to form part of the earl's cavalcade; 
 others, who remained behind, were on the battlemenjts, outer 
 walls, and towers, eager to view the splendid spectacle of the 
 royal entry. The garden, therefore, while every other part 
 of the castle resounded with the human voice, was silent, but 
 for the whispering of the leaves, the emulous warbling of the 
 tenants of a large aviary, with their happier companions who 
 remained denizens of the free air, and the plashing of the 
 fountains, which, forced into the air from sculptures of fan- 
 tastic and grotesque forms, fell down with ceaseless sound 
 into the great basins of Italian marble. 
 
 The melancholy thoughts of Tressilian cast a gloomy shade 
 on all the objects with which he was surrounded. He com- 
 pared the magnificent scenes which he here traversed with 
 the deep woodland and wild moorland which surrounded Lid- 
 cote Hall, and the image of Amy Eobsart glided like a phan- 
 tom through QYQYy landscape which his imagination sum- 
 moned up. Nothing is perhaps more dangerous to the future 
 happiness of men of deep thought and retired habits than the 
 entertaining an early, long, and unfortunate attachment. It 
 frequently sinks so deep into the mhid that it becomes their 
 dream by night and their vision by day, mixes itself with 
 every source of interest and enjoyment; and, when blighted 
 and withered by final disappointment, it seems as if the 
 springs of the spirit were dried up along with it. This ach- 
 ing of the heart, this languishing after a shadow which has 
 lost all the gayety of its coloring, this dwelling on the re- 
 
S06 WA VBRLSr NO VEL8. 
 
 membrance of a dream from which we have been long roughly 
 awakened, is the weakness of a gentle and generous heart, 
 and it was that of Tressilian. 
 
 He himself at length became sensible of the necessity of 
 forcing other objects upon his mind; and for this purpose he 
 left the Pleasance, in order to mingle with the noisy crowd 
 upon the walls, and view the preparation for the pageants. 
 But as he left the garden, and heard the busy hum, mixed 
 with music and laughter, which floated around him, he felt 
 an uncontrollable reluctance to mix with society whose feel- 
 ings were in a tone so different from his own, and resolved, 
 instead of doing so, to retire to the chamber assigned him, 
 and employ himself in study until the tolling of the great 
 castle bell should announce the arrival of Elizabeth. 
 
 Tressilian crossed accordingly by the passage betwixt the 
 immense range of kitchens and the great hall, and ascended 
 to the third story of Mervyn's Tower, and applying himself to 
 the door of the small apartment which had been allotted 
 to him, was surprised to find it was locked. He then recol- 
 lected that the deputy-chamberlain had given him a master- 
 key, advising him, in the present confused state of the castle, 
 to keep his door as much shut as possible. He applied this 
 key to the lock, the bolt revolved, he entered, and in the same 
 instant saw a female form seated in the apartment, and recog- 
 nized that form to be Amy Robsart. His first idea was, that 
 a heated imagination had raised the image on which it doted 
 into visible existence; his second, that he beheld an appari- 
 tion; the third and abiding conviction, that it was Amy her- 
 self, paler, indeed, and thinner than in the days of heedless 
 happiness, when she possessed the form and hue of a wood- 
 nymph, with the beauty of a sylph; but still Amy, unequaled 
 in loveliness by aught which had ever visited his eyes. 
 
 The astonishment of the countess was scarce less than that 
 of Tressilian, although it was of shorter duration, because she 
 had heard from Wayland that he was in the castle. She had 
 started up at his first entrance, and now stood facing him, 
 the paleness of her cheeks having given way to a deep blush. 
 
 " Tressilian," she said, at length, " why come you here? " 
 
 "Nay, why come you here. Amy," returned Tressilian, 
 " unless it be at length to claim that aid which, as far as one 
 man's heart and arm can extend, shall instantly be rendered 
 to you?" 
 
 She was silent a moment, and then answered in a sorrowful 
 rather than an angry tone — " I require no aid, Tressilian, and 
 
KENILWORTH. SOlT 
 
 would rather be injured than benefited by any which your 
 kindness can offer me. Believe me, I am near one whom law 
 and love oblige to protect me." 
 
 " The villain, then, hath done you the poor justice which 
 remained in his power," said Tressilian; " and I behold before 
 me the wife of Varney ? " 
 
 " The wife of Vamey! " she replied, with all the emphasis 
 of scorn. " With what base name, sir, does your boldness 
 
 stigmatize the — the — the " She hesitated, dropped her 
 
 tone of scorn, looked down, and was confused and silent; for 
 she recollected what fatal consequences might attend her 
 completing the sentence with " the Countess of Leicester," 
 which were the words that had naturally suggested them- 
 selves. It would have boen a betrayal of the secret, on which 
 her husband had assured her that his fortunes depended, to 
 Tressilian, to Sussex, to the Queen, and to the whole as- 
 sembled court. " Never," she thought, " will I break my 
 promised silence. I will submit to every suspicion rather 
 than that." 
 
 The tears rose to her eyes as she stood silent before Tres- 
 silian; while, looking on her with mingled grief and pity, he 
 said, " Alas! Amy, your eyes contradict your tongue. That 
 speaks of a protector, willing and able to watch over you; but 
 these tell me you are ruined, and deserted by the wretch to 
 whom you have attached yourself." 
 
 She looked on him, with eyes in which anger sparkled 
 through her tears, but only repeated the word " wretch! " 
 with a scornful emphasis. 
 
 " Yes, wretch! " said Tressilian; " for were he aught better, 
 why are you here, and alone in my apartment? Why was not 
 fitting provision made for your honorable reception ? " 
 
 " In your apartment? " repeated Amy — " in your apart- 
 ment? It shall instantly be relieved of my presence." She 
 hastened toward the door; but the sad recollection of her de- 
 serted state at once pressed on her mind, and, pausing on the 
 threshold, she added, in a tone unutterably pathetic, " Alas! I 
 had forgot; I know not where to go " 
 
 '^ I see — I see it all," said Tressilian, springing to her side, 
 and leading her back to the seat, on which she sunk down. 
 " You do need aid — you do need protection, though you will 
 not own it; and you shall not need it long. Leaning on my 
 arm, as the representative of your excellent and broken- 
 hearted father, on the very threshold of the castle gate, you 
 shall meet Elizabeth; and the first deed she shall dk) in the 
 
808 WAVEBLBT NOVELS, 
 
 halls of Kenilwortli shall be an act of justice to her sex and 
 her subjects. Strong in my good cause and in the Queen's 
 justice, the power of her minion shall not shake my resolu- 
 tion. I will instantly seek Sussex." 
 
 "Not for all that is under heaven!" said the countess, 
 much alarmed, and feeling the absolute necessity of obtaining 
 time, at least, for consideration. " Tressilian, you were wont 
 to be generous. Grant me one request, and believe, if it be 
 your wish to save me from misery and from madness, you will 
 do more by making me the promise I ask of you than Eliza- 
 beth can do for me with all her power! " 
 
 " Ask me anything for which you can allege reason,^' said 
 Tressilian; " but demand not of me " 
 
 " Oh, limit not your boon, dear Edmund! " exclaimed the 
 countess, — " you once loved that I should call you so, — limit 
 not your boon to reason! for my case is all madness, and 
 frenzy must guide the counsels which alone can aid me." 
 
 " If you speak thus wildly," said Tressilian, astonishment 
 again overpowering both his grief and his resolution, " I must 
 believe you indeed incapable of thinking or acting for 
 yourself." 
 
 " Oh, no! " she exclaimed, sinking on one knee before him, 
 " I am not mad. I am but a creature unutterably miserable, 
 and, from circumstances the most singular, dragged on to a 
 precipice by the arm of him who thinks he is keeping me 
 from it — even by yours, Tressilian — by yours, whom I have 
 honored, respected, all but loved — and yet loved, too — loved, 
 too, Tressilian, though not as you wished me." 
 
 There was an energy — a self-possession — an abandonment 
 in her voice and manner — a total resignation of herself to his 
 generosity, which, together with the kindness of her expres- 
 sions to himself, moved him deeply. He raised her, and in 
 broken accents entreated her to be comforted. 
 
 "I cannot," she said, "I will not be comforted till you 
 grant me my request! I will speak as plainly as I dare. I 
 am now awaiting the commands of one who has a right to 
 issue them. The interference of a third person — of you in 
 especial, Tressilian — will be ruin — utter ruin to me. Wait 
 but four-and-twenty hours, and it may be that the poor Amy 
 may have the means to show that she values, and can reward, 
 your disinterested friendship — that she is happy herself, and 
 has the means to make you so. It is surely worth your 
 patience, for so short a space?" 
 
 Tressilian paused, and weighing in his mind the various 
 
KENILWORTH, 309 
 
 probabilities whicb might render a violent interference on his 
 part more prejudicial than advantageous, both to the happi- 
 ness and reputation of Amy; considering also that she was 
 within the walls of Kenilworth, and could suifer no injury in 
 a castle honored with the Queen's residence, and filled with 
 her guards and attendants, he conceived, upon the whole, 
 that he might render her more evil than good, service by in- 
 truding upon her his appeal to Elizabeth in her behalf. He 
 expressed his resolution cautiously, however, doubting natu- 
 rally whether Amy's hopes of extricating herself from her 
 difficulties rested on anything stronger than a blinded attach- 
 ment to Vamey, whom he supposed to be her seducer. 
 
 " Amy," he said, while he fixed his sad and expressive eyes 
 on hers, which, in her ecstasy of doubt, terror, and perplexity, 
 she cast up toward him, " I have ever remarked that, when 
 others called thee girlish and willful, there lay under that ex- 
 ternal semblance of youthful and self-willed folly deep feel- 
 ing and strong sense. In this I will confide, trusting your 
 own fate in your own hands for the space of twenty-four 
 hours, without my interference by word or act." 
 
 " Do you promise me this, Tressilia.n? " said the countess. 
 " Is it possible you can yet repose so much confidence in me? 
 Do you promise, as you are a gentleman and a man of honor, 
 to intrude in my matters, neither by speech nor action, what- 
 ever you may see or hear that seems to you to demand your 
 interference? Will you so far trust me? " 
 
 " I will, upon my honor," said Tressilian; " but when that 
 space is expired " 
 
 " When that space is expired," she said, interrupting him, 
 " you are free to act as your judgment shall determine." 
 
 " Is there naught besides which I can do for you. Amy? " 
 said Tressilian. 
 
 " Nothing," said she, " save to leave me; that is, if — I blush 
 to acknowledge my helplessness by asking it — if you can 
 spare me the use of this apartment for the next twenty-four 
 hours." 
 
 " This is most wonderful! " said Tressilian; " what hope or 
 interest can you have in a castle where you cannot com- 
 mand even an apartment? " 
 
 '^ Argue not, but leave me," she said; and added, as he 
 slowly and unwillingly retired, " Generous Edmund; the time 
 may come when Amy may show she deserved thy noble 
 attachment." 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 What, man, ne'er lack a draught, when the full oui 
 Stands at thine elbow, and craves emptying 1 
 Nay, fear not me, for I have no delight 
 To watch men's vices, since I have myself 
 Of virtue nought to boast of. I'm a striker, 
 Would have the world strike with me, pell-mell, all. 
 
 — Pandomionium. 
 
 Teessilian, in strange agitation of mind, had hardly 
 stepped down the first two or three steps of the winding stair- 
 case, when, greatly to his surprise and displeasure, he met 
 Michael Lamboume, wearing an impudent familiarity of 
 visage, for which Tressilian felt much disposed to throw him 
 downstairs; until he remembered the prejudice which Amy, 
 the only object of his solicitude, was likely to receive from his 
 engaging in any act of violence at that time and in that place. 
 
 He, therefore, contented himself with looking sternly upon 
 Lamboume, as upon one whom he deemed unworthy of 
 notice, and attempted to pass him in his way downstairs with- 
 out any symptom of recognition. But Lamboume, who, 
 amidst the profusion of that day's hospitality, had not failed 
 to take a deep, though not an overpowering, cup of sack, was 
 not in the humor of humbling himself before any man's 
 looks. He stopped Tressilian upon the staircase without the 
 least bashfulness or embarrassment, and addressed him as if 
 they had been on kind and intimate terms — " What, no 
 grudge between us, I hope, upon old scores. Master Tressilian? 
 Nay, I am one who remember former kindness rather than 
 later feud. I'll convince you that I meant honestly and 
 kindly, aye, and comfortably by you." 
 
 " I desire none of your intimacy," said Tressilian; " keep 
 company with your mates." 
 
 " Now, see how hasty he is! " said Lamboume; " and how 
 these gentles, that are made questionless out of the porcelain 
 clay of the earth, look down upon poor Michael Lamboume! 
 You would take Master Tressilian now for the most maid- 
 like, modest, simpering squire of dames that ever made love 
 when candles were long i' the stuff — snuff — call you it? 
 Why, you would play the saint on us, Master TressUian, and 
 forget that even now thou hast a commodity in thy very bed- 
 
KENILWORTH, 311 
 
 chamber, to the shame of my lord's castle — ^ha! ha! ha! Have 
 I touched you, Master Tressilian?" 
 
 "I know not what you mean," said Tressilian, inferring, 
 however, too surely that this licentious ruffian must have been 
 sensible of iVmy's presence in his apartment; " but if," he 
 continued, "thou art varlet of the chambers, and lackest a 
 fee, there is one to leave mine unmolested." 
 
 Lambourne looked at the piece of gold, and put it in his 
 pocket, saying, '^ Now, I know not but you might have done 
 more with me by a kind word than by this chiming rogue. 
 But after all, he pays well that pays with gold; and Mike 
 Lambourne was never a make-bate, or a spoil-sport, or the 
 like. E'en live and let others live, that is my motto; only, I 
 would not let some folks cock their beaver at me neither, as if 
 they were made of silver ore and I of Dutch pewter. So, if I 
 keep your secret, Master Tressilian, you may look sweet on 
 me at least; and were I to want a little backing or counte- 
 nance, being caught, as you see the best of us may be^ in a 
 sort of peccadillo — why, you owe it me; and so e'en make 
 your chamber serve you and that same bird in bower beside 
 — it's all one to Mike Lamboiime." 
 
 " Make way, sir," said Tressilian, unable to bridle his in- 
 dignation; " you have had your fee." 
 
 ^^Um!" said Lambourne, giving place, however, while he 
 sulkily muttered between his teeth, repeating Tressilian's 
 words — " ' Make way ' — and ' you have had your fee '; but it 
 matters not. I will spoil no sport, as I said before; I am no 
 dog in the manger, mind that." 
 
 He spoke louder and louder, as Tressilian, by whom he felt 
 himself overawed, got farther and farther out of hearing. 
 
 " I am no dog in the manger; but I will not carry coals 
 neither, mind that, my Master Tressilian; and I will have a 
 peep at this wench, whom you have quartered so commodi- 
 ously in your old haunted room, afraid of ghosts, belike, and 
 not too willing to sleep alone. If I had done this now in a 
 strange lord's castle, the word had been — ' The porter's lodge 
 for the knave! ' and ' Have him flogged; trundle him down- 
 stairs like a turnip! ' Aye, but your virtuous gentlemen take 
 strange privileges over us, who are downright servants of 
 our senses. Well, I have my Master Tressilian's head under 
 my belt by this lucky discovery, that is one thing certain; 
 and I will try to get a sight of this Lindabrides of his, that 
 is another/' 
 
CHAPTEK XXIX. 
 
 Now fare the well, my master ; if true service 
 Be guerdon'd with hard looks, e'en cut the tow-line, 
 And let our barks across the pathless flood 
 Hold different courses. 
 
 —Shipwreck, 
 
 Tbessilian walked into the outer yard of the castle, scarce 
 knowing what to think of his late strange and most unex- 
 pected interview with Amy Eobsart, and dubious if he had 
 done well, being intrusted with the delegated authority of 
 her father, to pass his word so solemnly to leave her to her 
 own guidance for so many hours. Yet how could he have 
 denied her request, dependent as she had too probably ren- 
 dered herself upon Vamey? Such was his natural reasoning. 
 The happiness of her future life might depend upon his not 
 driving her to extremities, and since no authority of Tressil- 
 ian^s could extricate her from the power of Varney, supposing 
 he was to acknowledge Amy to be his wife, what title had 
 he to destroy the hope of domestic peace which might yet 
 remain to her by setting enmity betwixt them? Tressilian 
 resolved, therefore, scrupulously to observe his word pledged 
 to Amy, both because it had been given, and because, as he 
 still thought, while he considered and reconsidered that ex- 
 traordinary interview, it could not with justice or propriety 
 have been refused. 
 
 In one respect he had gained mucji toward securing effect- 
 ual protection for this unhappy and still beloved object of his 
 early affection. Amy was no longer mewed up in a distant 
 and solitary retreat, under the charge of persons of doubtful 
 reputation. She was in the Castle of Kenilworth, within the 
 verge of the royal court for the time, free from all risk ol' 
 violence, and liable to be produced before Elizabeth on the 
 first summons. These were circumstances which could not 
 but assist greatly the efforts which he might have occasion to 
 use in her behalf. 
 
 While he was thus balancing the advantages and perils 
 which attended her unexpected presence in Kenilworth, Tres- 
 silian was hastily and anxiously accosted by Wayland, who, 
 after ejaculating, " Thank God, your worship is found at 
 last! *' proceeded with breathless caution to pour into his ear 
 
KENILWORTE. 313 
 
 the intelligence that the lady had escaped from Cunmor 
 Place. 
 
 " And is at present in this castle," said Tressilian; " I know 
 it, and I have seen her. Was it by her own choice she found 
 refuge in my apartment?" 
 
 " No," answered Way land; " but I could think of no other 
 way of safely bestowing her, and was but too happy to find 
 a deputy-usher who knew where you were quartered — in jolly 
 society truly, the hall on the one hand and the kitchen on 
 the other! " 
 
 " Peace, this is no time for jesting," answered Tressilian, 
 sternly. 
 
 *' I wot that but too well," said the artist, " for I have felt 
 these three days as if I had an halter round my neck. This 
 lady knows not her own mind; she will have none of your 
 aid — commands you not to be named to her — and is about 
 to put herself into the hands of my Lord Leicester. I had 
 never got her safe into your chamber, had she known the 
 owner of it." 
 
 "Is it possible? said Tressilian. "But she may have 
 hopes the earl will exert his influence in her favor over his 
 villainous dependent." 
 
 " I know nothing of that," said Wayland; " but I believe, 
 if she is to reconcile herself with either Leicester or Vamey, 
 the side of the Castle of Kenilworth which will be safest for 
 us will be the outside, from which we can fastest fly away. It 
 is not my purpose to abide an instant after delivery of the 
 letter to Leicester, which waits but your commands to find its 
 way to him. See, here it is; but no- -a plague on it — I must 
 have left it in my dog-hole, in the hayloft yonder, where I am 
 to sleep." 
 
 " Death and fury! " said Tressilian, transported beyond his 
 usual patience; " thou hast not lost that on which may depend 
 a stake more important than a thousand such lives as thine? " 
 
 " Lost it! " answered Wayland readily; " that were a jest 
 indeed! No, sir, I have it carefully put up with my night- 
 sack, and some matters I have occasion to use. I will fetch 
 it in an instant." 
 
 "Do so," said Tressilian; "be faithful, and thou shalt be 
 well rewarded. But if I have reason to suspect thee, a dead 
 dog were in better case than thou! " 
 
 Wayland bowed, and took his leave with seeming confi- 
 dence and alacrity; but, in fact, filled with the utmost dread 
 and confusion. The letter was lost, that was certain, not- 
 
8U WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 withstanding the apology which he had made to appease the 
 impatient displeasure of Tressilian. It was lost; it might fall 
 into wrong hands; it would then, certainly, occasion a dis- 
 covery of the whole intrigue in which he had been engaged; 
 n-or, indeed, did Wayland see much prospect of its remaining 
 concealed in any event. He felt much hurt, besides, at Tres- 
 silian^s burst of impatience. 
 
 ^' Nay, if I am to be paid in this coin for services where my 
 neck is concerned, it is time I should look to myself. Here 
 have I offended, for aught I know, to the death the lord of 
 this stately castle, whose word were as powerful to take away 
 my life as the breath which speaks it to blow out a farthing 
 candle. And all this for a mad lady and a melancholy gallant, 
 who, on the loss of a four-nooked bit of paper, has his hand 
 on his poignado, and swears death and fury! Then there is 
 the doctor and Vamey — I will save myself from the whole 
 mess of them. Life is dearer than gold: I will fly this instant, 
 though I leave my reward behind me.^' 
 
 These reflections naturally enough occurred to a mind like 
 Wayland^s, who found himself engaged far deeper than he 
 had expected in a train of mysterious and unintelligible in- 
 trigue, in which the actors seemed hardly to know their own 
 course. And yet, to do him justice, his personal fears were, 
 in some degree, counterbalanced by his compassion for the 
 deserted state of the lady. 
 
 " I care not a groat for Master Tressilian," he said; " I 
 have done more than bargain by him, and have brought his 
 errant-dam ozel within his reach, so that he may look after 
 her himself; but I fear the poor thing is in much danger 
 amongst these stormy spirits. I will to her chamber, and tell 
 her the fate which has befallen her letter, that she may 
 write another if she list. She cannot lack a messenger, I 
 trow, where there are so many lackeys that can carry a letter 
 to their lord. And I will tell her also that I leave the castle, 
 trusting her to God, her own guidance, and Master Tres- 
 silian's care and looking after. Perhaps she may remember 
 the ring she offered me; it was well earned, I trow. But she 
 is a lovely creature, and — marry hang the ring! I will not 
 bear a base spirit for the matter. If I fare ill in this world 
 for my good-nature, I shall have better chance in the next. 
 So now for the lady, and then for the road.'^ 
 
 With the stealthy step and jealous eye of the cat that steals 
 on her prey, Wayland resumed the way to the countess' 
 chamber, sliding along by the side of the courts and passages. 
 
KBNILWORTH. 316 
 
 alike observant of all around him and studious himself to 
 escape observation. In this manner he crossed the outward 
 and inward castle-yard, and the great arched passage, which, 
 running betwixt the range of kitchen offices and the hall, led 
 to the bottom of the little winding stair that gave access to 
 the chambers of Mervyn's Tower. 
 
 The artist congratulated himself on having escaped the 
 various perils of his journey, and was in the act of ascending 
 by two steps at once, when he observed that the shadow of 
 a man, thrown from a door which stood ajar, darkened the 
 opposite wall of the staircase. Wayland drew back cautiously, 
 went down into the inner courtyard, spent about a quarter of 
 an hour, which seemed at least quadruple its usual duration, 
 in walking from place to place, and then returned to the 
 tower, in hopes to find that the lurker had disappeared. He 
 ascended as high as the suspicious spot — there was no shadow 
 on the wall; he ascended a few yards farther — the door was 
 still ajar, and he was doubtful whether to advance or retreat, 
 when it was suddenly thrown wide open, and Michael Lam- 
 bourne bolted out upon the astonished Wayland. " Who the 
 devil art thou? and what seeFst thou in this part of the 
 castle? March into that chamber, and be hanged to thee! " 
 
 " I am no dog, to go at every man's whistle," said the artist, 
 affecting a confidence which was belied by a timid shake in 
 his voice. 
 
 " Say'st thou me so? Come hither, Laurence Staples." 
 
 A huge, ill-made and ill-looked fellow, upward of six feet 
 high, appeared at the door, and Lamboume proceeded: " If 
 thou be'st so fond of this tower, my friend, thou shalt see its 
 foundations, good twelve feet below the bed of the lake, and 
 tenanted by certain jolly toads, snakes, and so forth, which 
 thou wilt find mighty good company. Therefore, once more 
 I ask you in fair play who thou art, and what thou seek'st 
 here?" 
 
 "If the dungeon-grate once clashes behind me," thought 
 Wayland, " I am a gone man." He therefore answered sub- 
 missively, " He was the poor juggler whom his honor had 
 met yesterday in Weatherly Bottom." 
 
 "' And what juggling trick art thou playing in this tower? 
 Thy gang," said Lamboume, "lie over against Clinton's 
 Buildings." 
 
 " I came here to see my sister," said the juggler, " who is 
 in Master Tressilian's chamber, just above." 
 
 " Aha! " said Lamboume, smiling, " here be truths! Upon 
 
816 WA7ERLET NOVELS. 
 
 my honor, for a stranger, this same Master Treesilian makes 
 himself at home among us, and furnishes out his cell hand- 
 somely with all sorts of commodities. This will be a precious 
 tale of the sainted Master Tressilian, and will be welcome to 
 some folks, as a purse of broad pieces to me. Hark ye, fel- 
 low,^' he continued, addressing Wayland, " thou shalt not 
 give puss a hint to steal away: we must catch her in her form. 
 So, back with that pitiful sheep-biting visage of thine, or I 
 will fling thee from the window of the tower, and try if your 
 juggling skill can save your bones." 
 
 " Your worship will not be so hard-hearted, I hope," said 
 Wayland; " poor folk must live. I trust your honor will allow 
 me to speak with my sister? " 
 
 " Sister on Adam's side, I warrant," said Lamboume; " or, 
 if otherwise, the more knave thou. But sister or no sister, 
 thou diest on point of fox,- if thou comest a-prying to this 
 tower once more. And now I think of it — uds daggers and 
 death! — I will see thee out of the castle, for this is a more 
 main concern than thy jugglery." 
 
 " But, please your worship," said Wayland, " I am to enact 
 Arion in the pageant upon the lake this very evening." 
 
 " I will act it myself, by St. Christopher! " said Lamboume. 
 " Orion, call'st thou him? I will act Orion, his belt and his 
 seven stars to boot. Come along, for a rascal knave as thou 
 art; follow me! Or stay; Laurence, do thou bring him 
 along." 
 
 Laurence seized by the collar of the cloak the unresisting 
 juggler, while Lamboume, with hasty steps, led the way to 
 that same sally-port, or secret postern, by which Tressilian 
 had returned to the castle, and which opened in the western 
 wall, at no great distance from Mervyn's Tower. 
 
 While traversing with a rapid foot the space betwixt the 
 tower and the sally-port, Wayland in vain racked his brain 
 for some device which might avail the poor lady, for whom, 
 notwithstanding his own imminent danger, he felt deep in- 
 terest. But when he was thrust out of the castle, and 
 informed by Lamboume, with a tremendous oath, that 
 instant death would be the consequence of his again approach- 
 ing it, he cast up his hands and eyes to heaven, as if to call 
 God to witness he had stood to the uttermost in defense of 
 the oppressed; then turned his back on the proud towers of 
 Kenilworth, and went his way to seek a hlimbler and safer 
 place of refuge. 
 
 Laurence and Lamboume gazed a little while after Way- 
 
 J 
 
KENILWORTK 817 
 
 land, and then turned to go back to their tower, wnen the 
 former thus addressed his companion: " Never credit me. 
 Master Lamboume, if I can guess why thou hast driven this 
 poor caitiff from the castle, just when he was to bear a part in 
 the show that was beginning, and all this about a wench." 
 
 " Ah, Laurence," replied Lambourne, " thou art thinking 
 of Black Joan Jugges of Slingdon, and hast sympathy with 
 human frailty. But corragio, most noble Duke of the Dun- 
 geon and Lord of Limbo, for thou art as dark in this matter 
 as thine own dominions of Little Ease. My most reverend 
 Siguier of the Low Countries of Kenilworth, know that our 
 most notable master, Eichard Vamey, would give as much to 
 have a hole in this same Tressilian's coat as would make us 
 some fifty midnight carousals, with the full leave of bidding 
 the steward go snick up, if he came to startle us too soon from 
 our goblets." 
 
 " Nay, an that be the case, thou hast right," said Laurence 
 Staples, the upper-warder; or, in common phrase, the first 
 jailer of Kenilworth Castle, and of the liberty and honor 
 belonging thereto; " but how will you manage when you are 
 absent at the Queen's entrance, Master Lamboume; for me- 
 thinks thou must attend thy master there? " 
 
 " Why, thou, mine honest prince of prisons, must keep 
 ward in my absence. Let Tressilian enter if he will, but see 
 thou let no one come out. If the damsel herself would make 
 a break, as 'tis not unlikely she may, scare her back with 
 rough words; she is but a paltry player's wench after all." 
 
 " Nay, for that matter," said Laurence, " I might shut the 
 iron wicket upon her, that stands without the double door, 
 and so force per force she will be bound to her answer with- 
 out more trouble." 
 
 " Then Tressilian will not get access to her," said Lam- 
 boume, reflecting a moment. " But 'tis no matter; she will 
 be detected in his chamber, and that is all one. But confess, 
 thou old bat's-eyed dungeon-keeper, that you fear to keep 
 awake by yourself in that Mervyn's Tower of thine? " 
 
 " Why, as to fear, Master Lamboume," said the fellow, " 1 
 mind it not the turning of -a key; but strange things have 
 been heard and seen in that tower. You must have heard, 
 for as short time as you have been in Kenilworth, that it is 
 haunted by the spirit of Arthur ap Mervyn, a wild chief taken 
 by fierce Lord Mortimer, when he was one of the Lords 
 Marchers of Wales, and murdered, as they say, in that san\e 
 tower which bears his name? " 
 
818 WA VEBLET NO VEL8, 
 
 *' Oh, I have heard the tale five hundred times," said Lam- 
 boiime, " and how the ghost is always most vociferous when 
 they boil leeks and stirabout, or fry toasted cheese, in the 
 culinary regions. Santo Diavolo, man, hold thy tongue, I 
 know all about it! " 
 
 " Aye, but thou dost not, though,'' said the turnkey, " for 
 as wise as thou wouldst make thyself. Ah, it is an awful 
 thing to murder a prisoner in his ward! You, that may have 
 given a man a stab in a dark street, know nothing of it. To 
 give a mutinous fellow a knock on the head with the keys, 
 and bid him be quiet, that's what I call keeping order in the 
 ward; but to draw weapon and slay him, as was done to 
 this Welsh lord, that raises you a ghost that will render your 
 prison-house untenantable by any decent captive for some 
 hundred years. And I have that regard for my prisoners, 
 poor things, that I have put good squires and men of worship, 
 that have taken a ride on the highway, or slandered my Lord 
 of Leicester, or the like, fifty feet under ground, rather than 
 I would put them into that upper chamber yonder that they 
 call Mervyn's Bower. Indeed, by good St. Peter of the 
 Fetters, I marvel my noble lord or Master Varney could think 
 of lodging guests there; and if this Master Tressilian could 
 get anyone to keep him company, and in especial a pretty 
 wench, why, truly, I think he was in the right on't." 
 
 "I tell thee," said Lamboume, leading the way into the 
 turnkey's apartment, " thou art an ass. Go bolt the wicket 
 on the stair, and trouble not thy noddle about ghosts. Give 
 me the wine-stoup, man; I am somewhat heated with chafing 
 with yonder rascal." 
 
 While Lamboume drew a long draught from a pitcher of 
 claret, which he made use of without any cup, the warder 
 went on vindicating his own belief in the supernatural. 
 
 " Thou hast been few hours in this castle, and hast been 
 for the whole space so drunk, Lamboume, that thou art deaf, 
 dumb, and blind. But we should hear less of your bragging, 
 were you to pass a night with us at full moon, for then the 
 ghost is busiest; and more especially when a rattling wind sets 
 in from the northwest, with some sprinkling of rain, and 
 now and then a growl of thunder. Body o' me, what crack- 
 lings and clashings, what groanings, and what bowlings, will 
 there be at such times in Mervyn's Bower, right as it were over 
 our heads, till the matter of two quarts of distilled waters has 
 not been enough to keep my lads and me in some heart! " 
 
 " Pshaw, man! " replied Lamboume, on whom his last 
 
KENILWORTH, 319 
 
 draught, joined to repeated visitations of the pitcher upon 
 former occasions, began to make some innovation, " thou 
 speak'st thou know^st not what about spirits. No one knows 
 justly what to say about them; and, in short, least said may 
 in that matter be soonest amended. Some men believe in 
 one thing, some in another: it is all matter of fancy. I have 
 known them of all sorts, my dear Laurence Lock-the-Door, 
 and sensible men, too. There's a great lord — we'll pass his 
 name, Laurence — he believes in the stars and the moon, the 
 planets and their courses, aind so forth, and that they twinkle 
 exclusively for his benefit; when, in sober, or rather drunken 
 truth, Laurence, they are only shining to keep honest fellows 
 like me out of the kennel. Well, sir, let his humor pass; he 
 is great enough to indulge it. Then look ye, there is another 
 — a very learned man, I promise you, and can vent Greek and 
 Hebrew as fast as I can thieves' Latin — he has an humor 
 of sympathies and antipathies, of changing lead into gold, 
 and the like; why, via, let that pass, too, and let him pay 
 those in transmigrated coin who are fools enough to let it be 
 current with them. Then here comest thou thyself, another 
 great man, though neither learned nor noble, yet full six feet 
 high, and thou, like a purblind mole, must needs believe in 
 ghosts and goblins, and such-like. Now, there is, besides, 
 a great man — that is, a great little man, or a little great man, 
 my dear Laurence — and his name begins with V, and what 
 believes he? Why, nothing, honest Laurence — nothing in 
 earth, heaven, or hell; and for my part, if I believe there is 
 a devil, it is only because I think there must be someone to 
 catch our aforesaid friend by the back ^ when soul and body 
 sever,' as the ballad says; for your antecedent will have a 
 consequent — raw antecedentem, as Dr. Bricham was wont to 
 say. But this is Greek to you now, honest Laurence, and in 
 sooth learning is dry work. Hand me the pitcher once more." 
 
 "In faith, if you drink more, Michael," said the warder, 
 " you will be in sorry case either to play Arion or to wait on 
 your master on such a solemn night; and I expect each mo- 
 ment to hear the great bell toll for the muster at Mortimer's 
 Tower to receive the Queen." 
 
 While Staples remonstrated, Lamboume drank; and then 
 setting down the pitcher, which was nearly emptied, with a 
 deep sigh, he said in an undertone, which soon rose to a high 
 one as his speech proceeded, " Never mind, Laurence; if I be 
 drunk, I know that shall make Varney uphold me siober. 
 But, as I said, never mind, I can carry my drink discreetly. 
 
820 WAVBBLET NOVELS. 
 
 Moreover, 1 am to go on the water as Orion, ana shall take 
 cold unless I take something comfortable beforehand. Not 
 play Orion! Let us see the best roarer that ever strained 
 his lungs for twelve pence out-mouth me! What if they see 
 me a little disguised? Wherefore should any man be sober 
 to-night? Answer me that. It is matter of loyalty to be 
 merry; and I tell thee, there are those in the castle who, if 
 they are not merry when drunk, have little chance to be 
 merry when sober. I name no names, Laurence. But your 
 pottle of sack is a fine shoeing-hom to pull on a loyal humor 
 and a merry one. Huzza for Queen Elizabeth! — for the noble 
 Leicester! — for the worshipful Master Vamey! — and for 
 Michael Lamboume, that can turn them all round his 
 finger! '' 
 
 So saying, he walked downstairs, and across the inner court. 
 
 The warder looked after him, shook his head, and, while he 
 drew close and locked a wicket, which, crossing the staircase, 
 rendered it impossible for anyone to ascend higher than the 
 story immediately beneath Mervv'n's Bower, as Tressilian's 
 chamber was named, he thus soliloquized with himself — " It's 
 a good thing to be a favorite. I well-nigh lost mine office 
 because, one frosty morning. Master Vamey thought I 
 smelled of aquavitae; and this fellow can appear before him 
 drunk as a wine-skin, and yet meet no rebuke. But then he 
 is a pestilent clever fellow withal, fl^d »o one can understand 
 above one-half of what he says/' 
 
XXX. 
 
 Now bid the steeple rock ; she comes— ghe comes ! 
 Speak for ub, bells — speak for us, shrill tongued tucketSo 
 Stand to thy linstock, gunner ; let thy cannon 
 Play such a peal, as if a paynim foe 
 Came stretch'd in turban'd ranks to storm the ramparts. 
 We Trill have pageants too : but that craves wit, 
 And I'm a rough-hewn soldier. 
 
 — The Virgin Queen, a Tragi- Comedy, 
 
 Teessilian, when Wayland had left him, as mentioned in 
 the last chapter, remained uncertain what he ought next to 
 do, when Raleigh and Blount came up to him arm in arm, 
 yet, according to their wont, very eagerly disputing together. 
 Tressilian had no great desire for their society in the present 
 state of his feelings, but there was no possibility of avoiding 
 them; and indeed he felt that, bound by his promise not to 
 approach Amy, or take any step in her behalf, it would be his 
 best course at once to mix with general society, and to exhibit 
 on his brow as little as he could of the anguish and uncer- 
 tainty which sat heavy at his heart. He therefore made a 
 virtue of necessity, and hailed his comrades with, ^' All mirth 
 to you, gentlemen. Whence come ye? " 
 
 " From Warwick, to be sure," said Blount; " we must needs 
 home to change our habits, like poor players, who are fain to 
 multiply their persons to outward appearance by change of 
 suits; and you had better do the like, Tressilian." 
 
 " Blount is right," said Ealeigh; " the Queen loves such 
 marks of deference, and notices, as wanting in respect, those 
 who, not arriving in her immediate attendance, may appear 
 in their soiled and ruffled riding dress. But look at Blount 
 himself, Tressilian, for the love of laughter, and see how his 
 villainous tailor hath appareled him — ^in blue, green, and 
 crimson, with carnation ribands, and yellow roses in his 
 shoes! " 
 
 " Why, what wouldst thou have? " said Blount. " I told 
 the cross-legged thief to do his best, and spare no cost; and 
 methinks these things are gay enough — gayer than thine own. 
 I'll be judged by Tressilian." 
 
 " I agree — ^I agree," said Walter Raleigh. " Judge betwixt 
 us, Tressilian, for the love of Heaven! " 
 
 Tressilian, thus appealed to, looked at them both, and waa 
 
 m 
 
322 WAVERLET NOVELS, 
 
 immediately sensible at a single glance that honest Blount 
 had taken upon the tailor's warrant the pied garments which 
 he had chosen to make, and was as much embarrassed by the 
 quantity of points and ribands which garnished his dress as 
 a clown is in his holiday clothes; while the dress of Raleigh 
 was a well-fancied and rich suit, which the wearer bore as 
 a garb too well adapted to his elegant person to attract par- 
 ticular attention. Tressilian said, therefore, " That Blount's 
 dress was finest, but Raleigh's the best fancied." 
 
 Blount was satisfied with his decision. " I knew mine 
 was finest," he said; " if that knave Doublestich had brought 
 me home such a simple doublet as that of Raleigh's, I would 
 have beat his brains out with his own pressing-iron. Nay, 
 if we must be fools, ever let us be fools of the first head, 
 say I." 
 
 "But why gettest thou not on thy braveries, Tressilian?" 
 said Raleigh. 
 
 " I am excluded from my apartment by a silly mistake," 
 said Tressilian, " and separated for the time from my baggage. 
 I was about to seek thee, to beseech a share of thy lodging." 
 
 "And welcome," said Raleigh; "it is a noble one. My 
 Lord of Leicester has done us that kindness, and lodged us 
 in princely fashion. If his courtesy be extorted reluctantly, 
 it is at least extended far. I would advise you to tell your 
 strait to the earl's chamberlain: you will have instant 
 redress." 
 
 " Nay, it is not wo'rth while, since you can spare me room," 
 replied Tressilian; " I would not be troublesome. Has any- 
 one come hither with you? " 
 
 " Oh, aye," said Blount; " Vamey, and a whole tribe of 
 Leicestrians, besides about a score of us honest Sussex folk. 
 We are all, it seems, to receive the Queen at what they call 
 the Gallery Tower, and witness some fooleries there; and 
 then we're to remain in attendance upon the Queen in the 
 great hall — God bless the mark! — while those who are now 
 waiting upon her Grace get rid of their slough, and doff their 
 riding-suits. Heaven help me, if her Grace should speak to 
 me, I shall never know what to answer! " 
 
 " And what has detained them so long at Warwick? " said 
 Tressilian, unwilling that their conversation should return to 
 his own aifairs. 
 
 " Such a succession of fooleries," said Blount, " as were 
 never seen at Bartholomew Fair. We have had speeches and 
 player*, and dogs and bears, and men making monkeys, and 
 
women moppets, of themselves. I marvel the Queen could 
 endure it. But ever and anon came in something of ' the 
 lovely light of her gracious countenance/ or some such trash. 
 Ah! vamty makes a fool of the wisest. But, come, let us on 
 to this same Gallery Tower, though I see not what thou, 
 Tressiiian, canst do with thy riding-dress and boots." 
 
 " I will take my station behind thee, Blount," said Tres- 
 siiian, who saw that his friend^s unusual finery had taken 
 a strong hold of his imagination; " thy goodly size and gay 
 dress will cover my defects." 
 
 " And so thou shalt, Edmund," said Blount. " In faith, I 
 am glad thou think^st my garb well-fancied, for all Mr. Witty- 
 pate here; for when one does a foolish thing, it is right to do 
 it handsomely." 
 
 So saying, Blount cocked his beaver, threw out his leg, 
 and marched manfully forw^ard, as if at the head of his 
 brigade of pikemen, ever and anon looking with complaisance 
 on his crimson stockings and huge yellow roses which blos- 
 somed on his shoes. Tressiiian followed, wrapt in his own 
 sad thoughts, and scarce minding Raleigh, whose quick 
 fancy, amused by the awkward vanity of his respectable 
 friend, vented itself in jests, which he whispered into Tres- 
 silian's ear. 
 
 In this manner they crossed the long bridge, or tilt-yard, 
 and took their station, with other gentlemen of quality, before 
 the outer gate of the gallery, or entrance-tower. The whole 
 amounted to about forty persons, all selected as of the first 
 rank under that of knighthood, and were disposed in double 
 rows on either side of the gate, like a guard of honor, within 
 the close hedge of pikes and partizans, which was formed by 
 Leicester's retainers, wearing their liveries. The gentlemen 
 carried no arms save their swords and daggers. These gal- 
 lants were as gayly dressed as imagination could devise; and 
 as the garb of the time permitted a great display of expensive 
 magnificence, naught was to be seen but velvet and cloth of 
 gold and silver, ribands, feathers, gems, and golden chains. 
 In spite of his more serious subjects of distress, Tressiiian 
 could not help feeling that he, with his riding-suit, however 
 handsome it might be, made rather an unworthy figure 
 among these " fierce vanities," and the rather because he saw 
 that his dishabille was the subject of wonder among his own 
 friends and of scorn among the partizans of Leicester. 
 
 We could not suppress this fact, though it may seem some- 
 thing at variance with the gravity of Tressilian's character; 
 
824 WAVBRLBT NOVELS, 
 
 but the truth is, that a regard for personal appearance is a 
 species of self-love from which the wisest are not exempt, and 
 to which the mind clings so instinctively, that not only the 
 soldier advancing to almost inevitable death, but even the 
 doomed criminal who goes to certain execution, shows an 
 anxiety to array his person to the best advantage. But this 
 is a digression. 
 
 It was the twilight of a summer night (9th July, 1575), 
 the sun having for some time set, and all were in anxious 
 expectation of the Queen's immediate approach. The multi- 
 tude had remained assembled for many hours, and their num- 
 bers were still rather on the increase. A profuse distribution 
 of refreshments, together with roasted oxen, and barrels of 
 ale set a-broach in different places of the road, had kept the 
 populace in perfect love and loyalty toward the Queen and 
 her favorite, which might have somewhat abated had fasting 
 been added to watching. They passed away the time, there- 
 fore, with the usual popular amusements of whooping, halloo- 
 ing, shrieking, and playing rude tricks upon each other, 
 forming the chorus of discordant sounds usual on such occa- 
 sions. These prevailed all through the crowded roads and 
 fields, and especially beyond the gate of the chase, where the 
 greater number of the common sort were stationed; when, all 
 of a sudden, a single rocket was seen to shoot into the atmos- 
 phere, and, at the instant, far heard over the flood and field, 
 the great bell of the castle tolled. 
 
 Immediately thei-e was a pause of dead silence, succeeded 
 by a deep hum of expectation, the united voice of many 
 thousands, none of whom spoke above thedr breath; or, to use 
 a singular expression, the whisper of an immense multitude. 
 
 " They come now, for certain,'' said Raleigh. " Tressilian, 
 that sound is grand. We hear it from this distance, as 
 mariners, after a long voyage, hear, upon their night-watch, 
 the tide rush upon some distant and unknown shore." 
 
 " Mass! " answered Blount, " I hear it rather as I used to 
 hear mine own kine lowing from the close of Wittens 
 Westlowe." 
 
 " He will assuredly graze presently," said Raleigh to Tres- 
 silian: "his thought is all of fat oxen and fertile meadows; 
 he grows little better than one of his own beeves, and only 
 becomes grand when he is provoked to pushing and goring." 
 
 " We shall have him at that presently," said Tressilian, " if 
 you spare not your wit." 
 
 "Tush, I care not," answered Raleigh; "but thou, too. 
 
KENILWORTE. 326 
 
 Tressilian, hast turned a kind of owl, that flies only by night; 
 hast exchanged thy songs for screechings, and good company 
 for an ivy-tod/' 
 
 " But what manner of animal art thou thyself, Raleigh," 
 said Tressilian, "that thou holdest us all so lightly? " 
 
 " Who, I? "replied Raleigh. " An eagle am I, that never 
 will think of dull earth while there is a heaven to soar in and 
 a sun to gaze upon." 
 
 " Well bragged, by St. Bamaby! " said Blount; " but, good 
 Master Eagle, beware the cage, and beware the fowler. Many 
 birds have flown as high, that I have seen stuffed with straw, 
 and hung up to scare kites. But hark, what a dead silence 
 hath fallen on them at once! " 
 
 " The procession pauses," said Raleigh, " at the gate of the 
 chase, where a sibyl, one of the Fatidicce, meets the Queen, 
 to tell her fortune. I saw the verses; there is little savor in 
 them, and her Grace has been already crammed full with such 
 poetical compliments. She whispered to me during the Re- 
 corder's speech yonder, at Ford Mill, as she entered the liber- 
 ties of Warwick, how she was ' pertaesa barbarae loquelse.' " 
 
 " The Queen whispered to Mm ! " said Blount, in a 
 kind of soliloquy. " Grood God, to what will this world 
 come! " 
 
 His farther meditations were interrupted by a shout of 
 applause from the multitude, so tremendously vociferous that 
 the country echoed for miles round. The guards, thickly 
 stationed upon the road by which the Queen was to advance, 
 caught up the acclamation, which ran like wildfire to the 
 castle, and announced to all within that Queen Elizabeth had 
 entered the royal chase of Kenilworth. The whole music of 
 the castle sounded at once, and a round of artillery, with a 
 salvo of small-arms, was discharged from the battlements; but 
 the noise of drums and trumpets, and even of the cannon 
 themselves, was but faintly heard amidst the roaring and 
 reiterating welcomes of the multitude. 
 
 As the noise began to abate, a broad glare of light was 
 seen to appear from the gate of the park, and, broadening 
 and brightening as it came nearer, advanced along the open 
 and fair avenue that led toward the Gallery Tower; which, 
 as we have already noticed, was lined on either hand by the 
 retainers of the Earl of Leicester. The word was passed 
 along the line, " The Queen! The Queen! Silence, and 
 stand fast! " Onward came the cavalcade illuminated by two 
 hundred thick waxen torches, in the hands of as many horse- 
 
826 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 men, which cast a light like that of hroad day all around the 
 procession, but especially on the principal group, of which the 
 Queen herself, arrayed in the most splendid manner, and blaz- 
 ing with jewels, formed the central figure. She was mounted 
 on a milk-white horse, which she reined \^dth peculiar grace 
 and dignity; and in the whole of her stately and noble car- 
 riage you saw the daughter of an hundred kings. 
 
 The ladies of the court, who rode beside her Majesty, had 
 taken especial care that their own external appearance should 
 not be more glorious than their rank and the occasion alto- 
 gether demanded, so that no inferior luminary might appear 
 to approach the orbit of royalty. But their personal charms, 
 and the magnificence by which, under ever^^ prudential re- 
 straint, they were necessarily distinguished, exhibited them 
 as the very flower of a realm so far famed for splendor and 
 beauty. The magnificence of the courtiers, free from such 
 restraints as prudence imposed on the ladies, was yet more 
 unbounded, 
 
 Leicester, who glittered like a golden image with jewels 
 and cloth of gold, rode on her Majesty's right hand, as well 
 in quality of her host as of her master of the horse. The 
 black steed which he mounted had not a single white hair 
 on his body, and was one of the most renowned chargers in 
 Europe, having been purchased by the earl at large expense 
 for this royal occasion. As the noble animal chafed at the 
 slow pace of the procession, and, arching his stately neck, 
 champed on the silver bits which restrained him, the foam 
 fleT\^ from his mouth and specked his well-formed limbs, as 
 if with spots of snow. The rider well became the high place 
 which he held and the proud steed which he bestrode; for no 
 man in England, or perhaps in Europe, was more perfect than 
 Dudley in horsemanship and all other exercises belonging to 
 his quality. He was bare-headed, as were all the courtiers in 
 the train; and the red torchlight shone upon his long curled 
 tresses of dark hair, and on his noble features, to the beauty 
 of which even the severest criticism could only object the 
 lordly fault, as it may be termed, of a forehead somewhat too 
 high. On that proud evening, those features wore all the 
 grateful solicitude of a subject to show himself sensible of the 
 high honor which the Queen was conferring on him, and all 
 the pride and satisfaction which became so glorious a mo- 
 ment. Yet, though neither eye nor feature betrayed aught 
 but feelings which suited the occasion, some of the earl's 
 personal attendants remarked that he was unusually pale, and 
 
 J 
 
I 
 
 KENILWOBTH, 327 
 
 they expressed to each other their fear that he was taking 
 more fatigue than consisted with his health. 
 
 Varney followed close behind his master, as the principal 
 esquire in waiting, and had charge of his lordship's black 
 velvet bonnet, garnished with a clasp of diamonds and sur- 
 mounted by a white plume. He kept his eye constantly on 
 his master; and, for reasons with which the reader is not 
 unacquainted, was, among Leicester's numerous dependents, 
 the one who was most anxious that his lord's strength and 
 resolution should carry him successfully through a day so 
 agitating. For, although Varney was one of the few — the 
 very few — moral monsters who contrive to lull to sleep the 
 remorse of their own bosoms, and are drugged into moral in- 
 sensibility by atheism, as men in extreme agony are lulled by 
 opium, yet he knew that in the breast of his patron there 
 was already awakened the fire that is never quenched, and 
 that his lord felt, amid all the pomp and magnificence we 
 have described, the gnawing of the worm that dieth not. 
 Still, however, assured as Lord Leicester stood, by Varney's 
 own intelligence, that his countess labored under an indis- 
 position which formed an unanswerable apology to the 
 Queen for her not appearing at Kenilworth, there was 
 little danger, his wily retainer thought, that a man so am- 
 bitious would betray himself by giving way to any external 
 weakness. 
 
 The train, male and female, who attended immediately 
 upon the Queen's person were, of course, of the bravest and 
 the fairest — the highest bom nobles and the wisest counselors 
 of that distinguished redgn, to repeat whose names were but 
 to weary the reader. Behind came a long crowd of knights 
 and gentlemen, whose rank and birth, however distinguished, 
 were thrown into the shade, as their persons into the rear of a 
 procession whose front was of such august majesty. 
 
 Thus marshaled, the cavalcade approached the Gallery 
 Tower, which formed, as we have often observed, the extreme 
 barrier of the castle. 
 
 It was now the part of the huge porter to step forward; 
 but the lubbard was so overwhelmed with confusion of spirit 
 — the contents of one immense black-jack of double ale, 
 which he had just drank to quicken his memory, having 
 treacherously confused the brain it was intended to clear — 
 that he only groaned piteously, and remained sitting on his 
 stone seat; and the Queen would have passed on without 
 greeting, had not the gigantic warder's secret ally, Flibberti- 
 
828 WA VERLET NO VEL8, 
 
 gibbet, who lay perdue behind him, thrust a pin into the real 
 of the short femoral garment which we elsewhere described. 
 The porter uttered a sort of a yell, which came not amiss 
 into his part, started up with his club, and dealt a sound 
 douse or two on each side of him; and theai, like a coach- 
 horse pricked by the spur, started off at once into the full 
 career of his address, and, by dint of active prompting on the 
 part of Dickie Sludge, delivered, in sounds of gigantic in- 
 tonation, a speech which may be thus abridged, the reader 
 being to suppose that the first lines were addressed to the 
 throng who approached the gateway; the conclusion, at the 
 approach of the Queen, upon sight of whom, as struck by 
 some Heavenly vision, the gigantic warder dropped his club, 
 resigned his keys, and gave open way to the goddess of the 
 night and all her magnificent train: 
 
 " What stir, what turmoil, have we for the nones ? 
 Stand back, my masters, or beware your bones I 
 Sirs, I'm a warder, and no man of straw, 
 My voice keeps order, and my club gives law. 
 
 Yet soft — nay, stay — what vision have we here? 
 
 What dainty darling's this — what peerless peer ? 
 
 What loveliest face, that loving ranks enfold, 
 
 Like brightest diamond chased in purest gold? 
 
 Dazzled and blind, mine office I forsake, 
 
 My club, my key, my knee, my homage take. 
 
 Bright paragon, pass on in joy and bliss ; — 
 
 Beshrew the gate that opes not wide at such a sight as this ! * * 
 
 Elizabeth received most graciousl}'^ the homage of the 
 Herculean porter, and, bending her head to him in requital, 
 passed through his guarded tower, from the top of which 
 was poured a clamorous blast of warlike music, which was 
 replied to by other bands of minstrelsy placed at different 
 points on the castle walls, and by others again stationed in 
 the chase; while the tones of the one, as they yet vibrated 
 on the echoes, were caught up and answered by new harmony 
 from different quarters. 
 
 Amidst these bursts of music, which, as if the work of 
 enchantment, seemed now close at hand, now softened by 
 distance space, now wailing so low and sweet as if that dis- 
 tance were gradually prolonged until o^nly the last lingering 
 strains could reach the ear, Queen Elizabeth crossed the Gal- 
 lery Tower, and came upon the long bridge which extended 
 from thence to Mortimer's Tower, and which was already as 
 light as day, so many torches had been fastened to the pali- 
 sades on either side. Most of the nobles here alighted, and 
 
 * See Imitation of Gascoigne. Note 15. 
 
KENILWORTH, 82Q 
 
 sent their horses to th« neighboring village of Kenilworth, 
 following the Queen on foot, as did the gentlemen who had 
 stood in array to receive her at the Galler}^ Tower. 
 
 On this occasion, as at different times during the evening, 
 Ealeigh addressed himself to Tressilian, and was not a little 
 surprised at his vague and unsatisfactory answers; which, 
 joined to his leaving his apartment without any atsigned 
 reason, appearing in an undress when it was likely to be 
 offensive to the Queen, and some other symptoms of irregu- 
 larity which he thought be discovered, led him to doubt 
 whether his friend did not labor under some temporary 
 derangement. 
 
 Meanwhile, the Queen had no sooner stepped on the bridge 
 than a new spectacle was provided; for, as soon as the music 
 gave signal that she was so far advanced, a raft, so disposed 
 as to resemble a small floating island, illuminated by a great 
 variety of torches, and surrounded by floating pageants 
 formed to represent sea-horses, on which sat Tritons, Nereids, 
 and other famous deities of the seas and rivers, made its 
 appearance upon the lake, and, issuing from behind a small 
 heronry where it had been concealed, floated gently toward 
 the farther end of the bridge. 
 
 On the islet appeared a beautiful woman, clad in a watchet- 
 colored silken mantle, bound with a broad girdle, inscribed 
 with characters like the phylacteries of the HebTews. Her 
 feet and arms were bare, but her wrists and ankles were 
 adorned with gold bracelets of uncommon size. Amidst her 
 long silky black hair she wore a crown or chaplet of artificial 
 mistletoe, and bore in her hand a rod of ebony tipped with 
 silver. Two nymphs attended on her, dressed in the same 
 antique and mystical guise. 
 
 The pageant was so well managed, that this Lady of the 
 Floating Island, having performed her voyage with much 
 picturesque effect, landed at Mortimer's Tower, with her two 
 attendants, just as Elizabeth presented herself before that 
 outwork. The stranger then, in a well-penned speech, an- 
 nounced herself as that famous Lady of the Lake, renowned 
 in the stories of King Arthur, who had nursed the youth of 
 the redoubted Sir Lancelot, and whose beauty had proved 
 too powerful both for the wisdom and the spells of the mighty 
 Merlin. Since that early period, she had remained possessed 
 of her crystal dominions, she said, despite the various men 
 of fame and might by whom Kenilworth had been success- 
 ively tenanted. The Saxons, the Panes, the Normans, the 
 
830 WAVEBLE7 NOVELS. 
 
 Saintlowes, the Clintons, the Montforts, the Mortimeips, the 
 Plantagenets, great though they were in arms and magnifi- 
 cenoe, had never, she siaid, caused her to raise her head from 
 the waters which hid her crystal palace. But a greater than 
 all these great names had now appeared, and she came in 
 homage and duty to welcome the peerless Elizabeth to all 
 sport which the castle and its environs, which lake or land, 
 oould afford. 
 
 The Queen received this address also with great courtesy, and 
 made answer in raillery, " We thought this lake had belonged 
 to our own dominions, fair dame, but since so famed a lady 
 claims it for hers, we will be glad at some other time to have 
 further conmiuning with you touching our joint interests." 
 
 With this gracious answer, the Lady of the Lake vanished, 
 and Arion, who was amongst the maritime deities, appeared 
 upon his dolphin. But Lamboume, who had taken upon 
 him the part in the absence of Wayland, being chilled with 
 remaining immersed in an element to which he was not 
 friendly, having n-ever got his speech by heart, and not hav- 
 ing, like the porter, the advantage of a prompter, paid it off 
 with impudence, tearing off his vizard, and swearing, " Cog's 
 bones! he was none of Arion or Orion either, but honest Mike 
 Lamboume, that had been drinking her Majesty's health 
 from morning till midnight, and was come to bid her heartily 
 welcome to Kenilworth Castle." 
 
 This unpremeditated buffoonery answered the purpose 
 probably better than the set speech would have done. The 
 Queen laughed heariily, and swore, in her turn, that he had 
 made the best speech she had heard that day. Lamboume, 
 who instantly saw his jest had saved his bones, jumped ashore, 
 gave his dolphin a kick, and declared he would never meddle 
 with fish again, except at dinner. 
 
 At the same time that the Queen was about to enter the 
 castle, that memorable discharge of fireworks by water and 
 land took place, which Master Laneham, formeriy intro- 
 duced to the reader, has strained all his eloquence to describe. 
 
 " Such," says the clerk of the council-chamber door, " was 
 the blaze of burning darts, the gleams of stars coruscant, 
 the streams and hail of fiery sparks, lightnings of wildfire, 
 and flight-shot of thunderbolts, with continuance, terror, and 
 vehemency, that the heavens thundered, the waters surged, 
 and the earth shook; and for my part, hardy as I am, it made 
 me very vengeably afraid." * 
 
 * See Festivities at Eenilworth. Note 18. 
 
CHAPTEE XXXI. 
 
 Nay, this is matter for the month of March, 
 When hares are maddest. Either speak in reason, 
 Giving cold argument the wall of passion. 
 Or I break up the court. 
 
 — Beaumont and Fletcheb. 
 
 It is by no means our purpose to detail nunutely all the 
 princely festivities of Kenilworth, after the fashion of Master 
 Robert Laneham, whom we quoted in the conclusion of the 
 last chapter. It is sufficient to say that, under discharge of 
 the splendid fireworks, which we have borrowed Laneham's 
 eloquence to describe, the Queen entered the base-court of 
 Kenilworth, through Mortimer's Tower, and moving on 
 through pageants of heathen gods and heroes of antiquity, 
 who offered gifts and compliments on the bended knee, at 
 length found her way to the great hall of the castle, gor- 
 geously hung for her reception with the richest silken tapes- 
 try, misty with perfumes, and sounding to strains of soft and 
 delicious music. From the highly carved oaken roof hung 
 a superb chandelier of gilt bronze, formed like a spread eagle, 
 whose outstretched wings supported three male and tlu*ee 
 female figures, grasping a pair of branches in each hand. 
 The hall was thus illuminated by twenty-four torches of 
 wax. At the upper end of the splendid apartment was a 
 state canopy, overshadowing a royal throne, and besdde it was 
 a door, which opened to a long suite of apartments, decorated 
 with the utmost magnificence for the Queen and her ladies, 
 whenever it should be her pleasure to be private. 
 
 The Earl of Leicester having handed the Queen up to her 
 throne and seated her there, knelt down before her, and 
 kissing the hand which she held out, with an air in which 
 romantic and respectful gallantry was happily mingled with 
 the air of loyal devotion, he thanked her, in terms of the 
 deepest gratitude, for the highest honor which a sovereign 
 could render to a subject. So handsome did he look when 
 kneeling before her, that Elizabeth was tempted to prolong 
 the scene a little longer than there was, strictly speaking, 
 necessity for; and ere she raised him, she passed her hand 
 over his head, so near as almost to touch his long curled and 
 perfumed hair, and with a movement of fondness, that 
 
332 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 seemed to intimate she would, if she dared, have made the 
 motion a sHght caress.* 
 
 She at length raised him; and, standing beside the throne, 
 he explained to her the various preparations which had been 
 made for her amusement and accommodation, all of which 
 received her prompt and gracious approbation. The earl 
 then prayed Her Majesty for permission that he himself, and 
 the nobles who had been in attendance upon her during the 
 journey, might retire for a few minutes, and put themselves 
 into a guise more fitting for dutiful attendance, during which 
 space, those gentiemen of worship (pointing to Vamey, 
 Blount, Tressilian, and others), who had already put them- 
 selves into fresh attire, would have the honor of keeping her 
 presence-chamber. 
 
 " Be it so, my lord," answered the Queen; " you could 
 manage a theater well, who can thus command a double set 
 of actors. For ourselves, we will receive your courtesies this 
 evening but clownishly, since it is not our purpose to change 
 our riding attire, being in effect something fatigued with 
 a journey which the concourse of our good people hath ren- 
 dered slow, though the love they have shown our person hath, 
 at the same time, made it delightful." 
 
 Leicester, having received this permission, retired accord- 
 ingly, and was followed by those nobles who bad attended 
 the Queen to Kenilworth in person. The gentlemen who 
 had preceded them, and were of course dressed for the 
 Bolemnity, remained in attendance. But being most of them 
 of rather inferior rank, they remained at an awful distance 
 from the throne which Elizabeth occupied. The Queen's 
 sharp eye soon distinguished Ealeigh amongst them, with one 
 or two others who were personally known to her, and she 
 instantly made them a sign to approach, and accosted them 
 very graciously. Ealeigh, in particular, the adventure of 
 whose cloak, as well as the incident of the verses, remained 
 on her mind, was very graciously received; and to him she 
 most frequently applied for information concerning the 
 names and rank of those who were in presence. These he 
 communicated concisely, and not without some traits of 
 humorous satire, by which Elizabeth seemed much amused. 
 "And who is yonder clownish fellow?" she said, looking at 
 Tressilian, whose soiled dress on this occasion greatly 
 obscured his good mien. 
 
 " A poet, if it please your Grace," replied Ealeigh. 
 
 ♦ See Elizabeth and Leicester. Note 17. 
 
KENILWORTH. 333 
 
 " I might have guessed that from his ctureless garb, ^ said 
 Elizabeth. " I have known some poets so thoughtlesis as to 
 throw their cloaks into gutters/' 
 
 " It must have been when the sun dazzled both their eyes 
 and their judgment/' answered Raleigh. 
 
 Elizabeth smiled, and proceeded — " I asked that slovenly 
 fellow's name, and you only told me his profession." 
 
 " Tressilian is his name," said Raleigh, with internal re- 
 luctance, for he foresaw nothing favorable to his friend from 
 the manner in which she took notice of him. 
 
 " Tressilian! " answered Elizabeth. " Oh, the Menelaus of 
 our romance. Why, he has dressed himself in a guise that 
 will go far to exculpate his fair and false Helen. And where 
 is Famham, or whatever his name is — ^my Lord of Leicester's 
 man, I mean — the Paris of this Devonshire tale? " 
 
 With still greater reluctance, Raleigh named and pointed 
 out to her Varney, for whom the tailor had done all that 
 art could perform in making his exterior agreeable; and who, 
 if he had not grace, had a sort of tact and habitual knowl- 
 edge of breeding which came in place of it. 
 
 The Queen turned her eye from one to the other. " I 
 doubt," she said, " this same poetical Master Tressilian, who 
 is too learned, I warrant me, to remember what preseoice he 
 was to appear in, may be one of those of whom Geoffrey 
 Chaucer says wittily, the wisest clerks are not the wisest men. 
 I remember that Varney is a smooth-tongued varlet. I 
 doubt this fair runaway hath had reasons for breaking her 
 faith." 
 
 To this Raleigh durst make no answer, aware how little he 
 should benefit Tressilian by contradicting the Queen's senti- 
 ments, and not at all certain, on the whole, whether the best 
 thing that could befall him would not be that she should put 
 an end at once by her authority to this affair, upon which it 
 seemed to him Tressilian's thoughts were fixed with unavail- 
 ing and distressing pertinacitv. As these reflections passed 
 through his active brain, the lower door was opened, and 
 Leicester, accompanied by several of his kinsmen and of the 
 nobles who had embraced his faction, re-entered the castle 
 hall. 
 
 The favorite earl was now appareled all in white, his shoes 
 being of white velvet; his understocks, or stockings, of knit 
 silk; his upper stocks of white velvet, lined with cloth of 
 silver, which was shown at the slashed part of the middle 
 thigh; his doublet of cloth of silver, the close jerkin of white 
 
834 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 velvet, embroidered with silver and seed-pearl, his girdle and 
 the scabbard of his sword of white velvet with golden buckles; 
 his poniard and sword hilted and mounted with gold; and 
 over all, a rich loose robe of white satin, with a border of 
 golden embroidery a foot in breadth. The collar of the 
 Garter, and the azure Garter itself around his knee, completed 
 the appointments of the Earl of Leicester; which were so well 
 matched by his fair stature, graceful gesture, fine proportion 
 of body, and handsome countenance, that at that moment 
 he was admitted by all who saw him as the goodliest person 
 whom they had ever looked upon. Sussex and the other 
 nobles were also richly attired; but, in point of splendor and 
 gracefulness of mien, Leicester far exceeded them all. 
 
 Elizabeth received him with great complacency. " We 
 have one piece of royal justice,^' she said, " to attend to. It 
 is a piece of justice, too, which interests us as a woman, as 
 well as in the character of mother and guardian of the Eng- 
 lish people." 
 
 An involuntary shudder came over Leicester, as he bowed 
 low, expressive of his readiness to receive her royal com- 
 mands; and a similar cold fit came over Vamey, whose eyes 
 (seldom during that evening removed from his patron) in- 
 stantly perceived, from the change in his looks, slight as that 
 wais, of what the Queen was speaking. But Leicester had 
 wrought his resolution up to the point which, in his crooked 
 policy, he judged necessary; and when Elizabeth added — " It 
 is of the matter of Vamey and Treesilian we speak: is the 
 lady in presence, my lord? " His answer was ready — " Gra- 
 cious madam, she is not." 
 
 Elizabeth bent her brows and compressed her lips. " Our 
 orders were strict and positive, my lord," was her answer. 
 
 " And should have been obeyed, good my liege," replied 
 Leicester, " had they been expressed in the form of the light- 
 est wish. But — Vamey, step forward — this gentleman will 
 inform your Grace of the cause why the lady [he could not 
 force his rebellious tongue to utter the words " his wife "] 
 cannot attend on your royal presence." 
 
 Vamey advanced, and pleaded with readiness, what indeed 
 he firmly believed, the absolute incapacity of the party (for 
 neither did he dare, in Leicester's presence, term her his wife) 
 to wait on her Grace. 
 
 " Here," said he, " are attestations from a most learned 
 physician, whose skill and honor are w^ell known to my good 
 Lord of Leicester; and from an honest and devout Protestant, 
 
KENILWORTH. 836 
 
 a man of credit and substance, one Anthony Foster, the gen- 
 tleman in whose house she is at present bestowed, that she 
 now labors under an illness which altogether unfits her for 
 such a journey as betwixt this castle and the neighborhood 
 of Oxford." 
 
 " This alters the matter/' said the Queen, taking the cer- 
 tificates in her hands, and glancing at their contents. " Let 
 Tressilian come forward. Master Treseihan, we have much 
 sympathy for your situation, the rather that you seem to have 
 set your fieart deeply on this Amy Robsart or Vamey. Our 
 power, thanks to God and the willing obedience of a loving 
 people, is worth much, but there are some things which it 
 cannot compass. We cannot, for example, command the 
 affections of a giddy young girl, or make her love sense and 
 learning better than a courtier's fine doublet; and we cannot 
 control sickness, with which it seems this lady is afflicted, 
 who may not, by reason of such infirmity, attend our court 
 here, as we had required her to do. Here are the testimonials 
 of the physician who hath her under his charge, and 
 the gentleman in whose house she resides, so setting 
 forth." 
 
 " Under your Majesty's favor," said Tressilian hastily, and, 
 in his alarm for the consequence of the imposition practiced 
 on the Queen, forgetting, in part at least, his own promise 
 to Amy, " these certificates speak not the truth." 
 
 " How, sir! " said the Queen. " Impeach my Lord of 
 Leicester's veracity! But you shall have a fair hearing. In 
 our presence the meanest of our subjects shall be heard 
 against the proudest, and the least known against the most 
 favored; therefore you shall be heard fairly, but beware you 
 speak not without a warrant! Take these certificates in 
 your own hand; look at them carefully, and say manfully if 
 you impugn the truth of them, and upon what evidence." 
 
 As the Queen spoke, his promise and all its consequences 
 rushed on the mind of the unfortunate Tressilian, and while 
 it controlled his natural inclination to pronounce that a false- 
 hood which he knew from the evidence of his senses to be 
 untrue, gave an indecision and irresolution to his appearance 
 and utterance, which made strongly against him in the mind 
 of Elizabeth, as well as of all who beheld him. He turned 
 the papers over and over, as if he had been an idiot, incapable 
 of comprehending their contents. The Queen's impatience 
 began to become visible. " You are a scholar, sir," she said, 
 " and of some note, as I have heard; yet you seem wondrous 
 
336 WA VEBLET NO VELS. 
 
 slow in reading text-hand. How say you, are these certifi- 
 cates true or no?^^ 
 
 " Madam," said Tressiliaa, with obvious embarrassment 
 and hesitation, aaxious to avoid admitting evidence which 
 he might afterward have reason to confute, yet equally de- 
 sirous to keep Ms word to Amy, and to give her, as he had 
 promised, space to plead her own cause in her own way — 
 "madam — madam, your Grace calls on me to admit evi- 
 dence which ought to be proved valid by those who found 
 their defense upon it." 
 
 " Why, Tressilian, thou art critical as well as poetical," said 
 the Queen, bending on him a brow of displeasure; " me- 
 thinks these writings, being produced in the presence of the 
 noble earl to whom this castle pertains, and his honor being 
 appealed to as the guarantee of their authenticity, might be 
 evidence enough for thee. But since thou lists to be so 
 formal — Vamey, or rather my Lord of Leicester, for the 
 affair becomes yours [these words, though spoken at random, 
 thrilled through the earFs marrow and bones] — what evidence 
 have you as touching these certificates? " 
 
 Varney hastened to reply, preventing Leicesiter — " So 
 please your Majesty, my young Lord of Oxford, who is here 
 in presence, knows Master Anthony Foster's hand and his 
 character." 
 
 The Earl of Oxford, a young unthrift, whom Foster had 
 more than once accommodated with loans on usurious inter- 
 est, acknowledged, on this appeal, that he knew him as a 
 wealthy and independent franklin, supposed to be worth 
 much money, and verified the certificate produced to be his 
 handwriting. 
 
 "And who speaks to the doctor's certificate?" said the 
 Queen. " Alasco, methinks, is his name." 
 
 Masters, her Majesty's physician (not the less willingly that 
 he remembered his repulse from Say's Court, and thought 
 that his present testimony might gratify Leicester, and mor- 
 tify the Earl of Sussex and his faction), acknowledged he had 
 more than once consulted with Dr. Alasco, and spoke of him 
 as a man of extraordinary learning and hidden acquirements, 
 though not altogether in the regular course of practice. The 
 Earl of Hun^tingdon, Lord Leicester's brother-in-law, and 
 the old Countess of Eutland, next sang his praises, and both 
 remembered the thin, beautiful Italian hand in which he was 
 wont to write his receipts, and which corresponded to the 
 certificate produced as his. 
 
kmiLWOnTH. 387 
 
 ''And now, i trust, Master Tressilian, this matter is 
 ended/' said the Queen. " We will do something ere the 
 night is older to reconcile old Sir Hugh Robsart to the match. 
 You have done your duty something more than boldly; but 
 we were no woman had we not compassion for the wounds 
 which true love deals; so we forgive your audacity, and your 
 uncleansed boots withal, which have well-nigh overpowered 
 my Lord of Leicester's perfumes." 
 
 So spoke Elizabeth, whose nicety of scen't was one of the 
 characteristics of her organization, as appeared long after- 
 wards when she expelled Essex from her presence on a charge 
 against his boots similar to that which she now expressed 
 against those of Tressilian. 
 
 But Tressilian had by this time collected himself, aston- 
 ished as he had at first been by the audacity of the falsehood 
 so feasibly supported, and placed in array against the evi- 
 dence of his own eyes. He rushed forward, kneeled down, 
 and caught the Queen by the skirt of her robe. " As you are 
 Christian w^oman," he said, " madam, as you are crowned 
 queen, to do equal justice among your subjects — ^as you hope 
 yourself to have fair hearing — which God grant you — at that 
 last bar at which we must all plead, grant me one small re- 
 quest! Decide not this matter so hastily. Give me but twenty- 
 four hours' interval, and I will, at the end of that brief 
 space, produce evidence which will show to demonstration 
 that these certificates, which state this unhappy lady to be 
 now ill at ease in Oxfordshire, are false as hell! " 
 
 " Let go my train, sir! " said Elizabeth, who was startled 
 at his vehemence, though she had too much of lion in her to 
 fear. " The fellow must be distraught; that witty knave, my 
 godson Harrington, must have him into his rhymes of 
 ' Orlando Furioso ' ! And yet, by this light, there is some- 
 thing strange in the vehemence of his demand. Speak, Tres- 
 silian; what wilt thou do if, at the end of these four-and- 
 twenty hours, thou canst not confute a fact so solemnly 
 proved as this lady's illness? " 
 
 " I will lay dowTQ my head on the block," answered Tres- 
 silian. 
 
 " Pshaw! " replied the Queen. " God's light! thou speak'st 
 like a fool. What head falls in England but by just sen- 
 tence of English law? I ask thee, man — if thou hast sense 
 to understand me — ^wilt thou, if thou shalt fail in this im- 
 probable attempt of thine, render me a good and sufficient 
 reason why thou dost undertake it? " 
 
338 WA VERLET NO VEL8. 
 
 Tressilian paused, and again hesitated; because he felt con- 
 vinced that if, within the interval demanded, Amy should 
 become reconciled to her husband, he would in that case do 
 her the worst of offices by again ripping up the whole cir- 
 cumstances before Elizabeth, and showing how that wise and 
 jealous princess had been imposed upon by false testimonials. 
 The consciousness of this dilemma renewed his extreme em- 
 barrassment of look, voice, and manner; he hesitated, looked 
 down, and on the Queen repeating her question with a stem 
 voice and iiashing eye, he admitted with faltering words, 
 " That it might be — he could not positively — that is, in cer- 
 tain events — explain the reasons and grounds on which he 
 acted." 
 
 " Now, by the soul of King Henry," said the Queen, " this 
 is either moonstruck madness or very knavery! Seest thou, 
 Raleigh, thy friend is far too Pindaric for this presence. 
 Have him away, and make us quit of him, or it shall be the 
 worse for him; for his flights are too unbridled for any place 
 but Parnassus or St. Luke's Hospital. But come back in- 
 stantly thyself, when he is placed under fitting restraint. 
 We wish we had seen the beauty which could make such 
 havoc in a wise man's brain." 
 
 Tressilian was again endeavoring to address the Queen, 
 when Raleigh, in obedience to the orders he had received, 
 interfered, and, with Blount's assistance, half led, half forced 
 him out of the presence-chamber, where he himself indeed 
 began to think his appearance did his cause more harm than 
 good. 
 
 When they had attained the ante-chamber, Raleigh en- 
 treated Blount to see Tressilian safely conducted into the 
 apartments allotted to the Earl of Sussex's followers, and, if 
 necessary, recommend that a guard should be mounted on 
 him. 
 
 " This extravagant passion," he said, " and, as it would 
 seem, the news of the lady's illness, has utterly wrecked his 
 excellent judgment. But it will pass away if he be kept 
 quiet. Only let him break forih again at no rate; for he is 
 already far in her Highness' displeasure, and should she be 
 again provoked, she will find for him a worse place of con- 
 finement and sterner keepers." 
 
 "I judged as much as that he was mad," said Nicholas 
 Blount, looking down upon his own crimson stockings and 
 yellow roses, " whenever I saw him wearing yonder damned 
 boots, which stunk so in her nostrils. I will but se^ him 
 
KENILWOETE. 339 
 
 stowed, and be back with you presently. ■ But, Walter, did 
 the Queen ask who I was? Methought she glanced an eye 
 at me/^ 
 
 " Twenty — twenty eye-glanoes she sent, and I told her all 
 
 how thou wert a brave soldier, aad a But, for God's 
 
 sake, get off Tressilian! " 
 
 " I will — I will," said Blount; " but methinks this court- 
 haunting is no such bad pastime, after all. We shall rise by 
 it, Walter, my brave lad. Thou said'st I was a good soldier, 
 and a What besides, dearest Walter? " 
 
 " An all unutterable — cod's-head. For God's sake, be- 
 gone! " 
 
 Tressilian, without farther resistance or expostulation, fol- 
 lowed, or rather suffered himself to be conducted by Blount 
 to Raleigh's lodgings, where he was formally installed into 
 a small truckle-bed, placed in a wardrobe and designed for 
 a domestic. He saw but too plainly that no remonstrances 
 would avail to procure the help or sympathy of his friends, 
 until the lapse of the time for which he had pledged himself 
 to remain inactive should enable him either to explain the 
 whole circumstances to them, or remove from him every pre- 
 text or desire of farther interference with the fortunes of 
 Amy, by her having found means to place herself in a state 
 of reconciliation with her husband. 
 
 With great difficulty, and only by the most patient and 
 mild remonstrances with Blount, he escaped the disgrace and 
 mortification of having two of Sussex's stoutest yeomen 
 quartered in his apartment. At last, however, when Mcholas 
 had seen him fairly deposited in his truckle-bed, and had 
 bestowed one or two hearty kicks, and as hearty curs/es, on 
 the boots, which, in his lately acquired spirit of foppery, he 
 considered as a strong symptom, if not the cause, of his 
 friend's malady, he contented himself with the modified 
 measure of locking the door on the unfortunate Tressilian, 
 whose gallant and disinterested efforts to save a female who 
 had treated him with ingi-atitude thus terminated, for the 
 present, in the displeasure of his sovereign, and the conviction 
 of his friends that he was little better than a madman. 
 
CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 The wisest soyereigns err like private men, 
 And royal hand has sometimes laid the sword 
 Of chivalry upon a worthless shoulder, 
 Which better had been branded by the hangman, 
 What then ? Kings do their best ; and they and we 
 Must answer for the intent, and not the event. 
 
 —Old Flay. 
 
 " It is a melancholy matter/' said the Quieen, when Tres- 
 siliaii was withdrawn, " to see a wise and learned man's wit 
 thus pitifully unsettled. Yet this public display of his im- 
 perfection of brain plainly shows us that his supposed injury 
 and accusation were fruitless; and therefore, my Lord of 
 Leicester, we remember your suit formerly made good to us in 
 behalf of your faithful servant Vamey, whose gifts and 
 fidelity, as they are useful to you, ought to have due reward 
 from us, knowing well that your lordship, and all you have, 
 are so earnestly devoted to our service. And we render Var- 
 ney the honor more especdally that we are a guest, and we 
 fear a chargeable and troublesome one, under your lordship's 
 roof; and also for the satisfaction of the good old knight of 
 Devon, Sir Hugh Eobsart, whose daughter he hath married; 
 and we trust the especial mark of grace which we are about 
 to confer may reconcile him to his son-in-law. Your sword, 
 my Lord of Leicester." 
 
 The earl unbuckled his sword, and, taking it by the point, 
 presented on bended knee the hilt to Elizabeth. 
 
 She took it slowly, drew it from the scabbard, and while 
 the ladies who stood around turned away their eyes with real 
 or affected shuddering, she noted with a curious eye the high 
 polish and rich damasked ornaments upon the glittering 
 blade. 
 
 " Had I been a man," she said, " methinks none of my an- 
 cestors would have loved a good sword better. As it is with 
 me, I like to look on one, and could, like the fairy of whom 
 I have read in some Italian rhymes — ^^were my godson Har- 
 rington here, he could tell me the passage* — even trim my 
 hair and arrange my head-gear in such a steel mirror as tlus 
 is. Eichard Vamey, come forth and kneel down. In the 
 
 * See Italian Poetry. Note 18. 
 84P 
 
I 
 
 KENILWORTR. 341 
 
 name of God and St. George, we dub thee knight! Be faith- 
 ful, brave, and fortunate. Arise, Sir Richard Vamey." 
 
 Varney arose and retired, making a deep obeisance to the 
 sovereign who had done him so much honor. 
 
 " The buckling of the spur, and what other rites remain," 
 said the Queen, " may be finished to-morrow in the chapel; 
 for we intend Sir Richard Yamey a companion in his honors. 
 And as we must not be partial in conferring such distinction, 
 we mean on this matter to confer with our cousin of Sussex." 
 
 That noble earl, who, since his arrival at Kenilworth, and 
 indeed since the commencement of this progress, had found 
 himself in a subordinate situation to Leicester, was now wear- 
 ing a heavy cloud on his brow — a circumstance which had 
 not escaped the Queen, who hoped to appease his discontent, 
 and to follow out her system of balancing policy, by a mark 
 of peculiar favor, the more gratifying as it was tendered at 
 a moment when his rival's triumph appeared to be complete. 
 
 At the summons of Queen Elizabeth, Sussex hastily ap- 
 proached her person; and being asked on which of his fol- 
 lowers, being a gentleman and of merit, he wished the honor 
 of knighthood to be conferred, he answered, with more 
 sincerity than policy, that he would have ventured to speak 
 for Tressilian, to whom he conceived he owed his own life, 
 and who was a distinguished soldier and scholar, besides a 
 man of unstained lineage, " only," he said, " he feared the 
 events of that nights " And then he stopped. 
 
 " I am glad your lordship is thus considerate," said Eliza- 
 beth; " the events of this night would make us, in the eyes 
 of our subjects, as mad as this poor brain-sick gentleman 
 himself — for we ascribe his conduct to no malice — should we 
 choose this moment to do him grace." 
 
 "In that case," said the Earl of Sussex, som-ewhat dis- 
 countenanced, "your Majesty will allow me to name my 
 master of the horse, Master Nicholas Blount, a gentleman of 
 fair estate and ancient name, who has served your Majesty 
 both in Scotland and Ireland, and brought away bloody 
 marks on his person, all honorably taken and requited." 
 
 The Queen could not help shrugging her shoulders 
 slightly even at this second suggestion; and the Duchess of 
 Rutland, who read in the Queen's manner that she had 
 expected Sussex would have named Raleigh, ajid thus would 
 have enabled her to gratify her own wish while she honored 
 his recommendation, only waited the Queen's assent to what 
 he had proposed, and then said, that she hoped, since these 
 
342 WA VERLEY NO YEL8. 
 
 two high nobles had been each permitted to suggest a can- 
 didate for the honors of chivalry, she, in behalf of the ladies 
 in presence, might have a similar indulgence. 
 
 " I were no woman to refuse you such a boon," said the 
 Queen, smiling. 
 
 " Then," pursued the duchess, " in the name of these fair 
 ladies present, I request your Majesty to confer the rank of 
 knighthood on Walter Ealeigh, whose birth, deeds of arms, 
 and promptitude to serve our sex with sword or pen, deserve 
 such distinction from us all." 
 
 *• Gramercy, fair ladies," said Elizabeth, smiling, " your 
 boon is granted, and the gentle squire Lack-Cloak shall be- 
 come the good knight La<3k-Cloak at your desire. Let the 
 two aspirants for the honor of chivalry step forward." 
 
 Blount was not as yet returned from seeing Tressilian, as 
 he conceived, safely disposed of; but Raleigh came forth, and, 
 kneeling down, received at the hand of the Virgin Queen that 
 title of honor, which was never conferred on a more dis- 
 tinguished or more illustrious object. 
 
 Shortly afterward, Nicholas Blount entered, and, hastily 
 apprised by Sussex, who met him at the door of the hall, of 
 the Queen^s gracious purpose regarding him, he was desired 
 to advance toward the throne. It is a sight sometimes seen, 
 and it is both ludicrous and pitiable, when an honest man 
 of plain common sense is surprised, by the coquetry of a pretty 
 woman or any other cause, into those frivolous fopperies 
 which only sit well upon the youthful, the gay, and those 
 to whom long practice has rendered them a second nature. 
 Poor Blount was in this situation. His head was already 
 giddy from a consciousness of unusual finery, and the sup- 
 posed necessity of suiting his manners to the gayety of his 
 dress; and now this sudden view of promotion altogether 
 completed the conquest of the newly inhaled spirit of foppery 
 over his natural disposition, and converted a plain, honest, 
 awkward man into a coxcomb of a new and most ridiculous 
 kind. 
 
 The knight expectant advanced up the hall, the whole 
 length of which he had unfortunately to traverse, turning 
 out his toes wdth so much zeal that he presented his leg at 
 every step with its broad side foremost, so that it greatly 
 resembled an old-fashioned table-knife with a curved point, 
 when seen sideways. The rest of his gait was in correspond- 
 ence with this unhappy amble; and the implied mixture of 
 bashful fear and self-satisfaction was so unutterably ridicu- 
 
KENILWORTH. 343 
 
 lous that Leicester's friends did not suppress a titter, in which 
 many of Sussex's partisans were unable to resist joining, 
 though ready to eat their nails with mortification. Sussex 
 himself lost all patience and could not forbear whispering 
 into the ear of his friend, " Curse thee! canst thou not walk 
 like a man and a soldier? " an interjection which only made 
 honest Blount start and stop, until a glance at his yellow 
 roses and crimson stockings restored his self-confidence, when 
 on he went at the same pace as before. 
 
 The Queen conferred on poor Blount the honor of knighi>- 
 hood with a marked sense of reluctance. That wise princess 
 was fully aware of the propriety of using great circumspection 
 and economy in bestowing these titles of honor, which the 
 Stuarts, who succeeded to her throne, distributed with an 
 imprudent liberahty which greatly diminished their value. 
 Blount had no sooner arisen and retired than she turned to 
 the Duchess of Rutland. " Our woman wit," she said, " dear 
 Rutland, is sharper than that of those proud things in doub- 
 let and hose. Seest thou, out of these three knights, thine 
 is the only true metal to stamp chivalry's imprint upon? " 
 
 " Sir Richard Vamey, surel}^ — the friend of my Lord of 
 Leicester — surely Tie has merit," replied the duchess. 
 
 " Vamey has a sly countenance and a smooth tongue," 
 replied the Queen. " I fear me, he will prove a knave; but 
 the promise was of ancient standing. My Lord of Sussex 
 must have lost his own wits, I think, to recommend to us 
 first a madman 15ke Tressilian and then a clownish fool like 
 this other fellow. I protest, Rutl-and, that while he sat on 
 his knees before me, mopping and mowing as if he had scald- 
 ing porridge in his mouth, I had much ado to forbear cutting 
 him over the pate, instead of striking his shoulder." 
 
 " Your Majesty gave him a smart accolade," said the 
 duchess; "we who stood behind heard the blade clatter on 
 his collar-bone, and the poor man fidgeted too as if he 
 felt it." 
 
 **I could not help it, wench," said the Queen, laughing; 
 " but we will have this same Sir Nicholas sent to Ireland or 
 Scotland, or somewhere, to rid our court of so antic a cheva- 
 lier; he may be a good soldier in the field, though a pre- 
 posterous ass in a banqueting-hall." 
 
 The discourse became then more general, and soon after 
 there was a summons to the banquet. 
 
 In order to obey this signal, the company were under the 
 necessity of crossing the inner court of the castle, that they 
 
844 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 might reach the new buildings, containing the large ban- 
 queting-room, in which preparations for supper were made 
 upon a scale of profuse magnificence corresponding to the 
 occasion. 
 
 The livery cupboards were loaded with plate of the richest 
 description, and the most varied; some articles tasteful, some 
 perhaps grotesque, in the invention and decoration, but all 
 gorgeously magnificent, both from the richness of the work 
 and value of the materials. Thus the chief table was adorned 
 by a salt, ship-fashion, made of mother-of-pearl, garnished 
 with silver and divers warlike ensigns, and other ornaments, 
 anchors, sails, and sixteen pieces of ordnance. It bore a 
 figure of Fortune, placed on a globe, with a flag in her hand. 
 Another salt was fashioned of silver, in the form of a swan 
 in full sail. That chivalry might not be omitted amid this 
 splendor, a silver St. George was presented, mounted and 
 equipped in the usual fashion in which he bestrides the 
 dragon. The figures were molded to be in some sort useful. 
 The horse's tail was managed to hold a case of knives, while 
 the breast of the dragon presented a similar accommodation 
 for oyster knives.* 
 
 In the course of the passage from the hall of reception 
 to the banqueting-room, and especially in the courtyard, the 
 new-made knights were assailed by the heralds, pursuivants, 
 minstrels, etc., with the usual cry of " Largesse — largesse, 
 chevaliers tres hardis! " an ancient invocation, intended to 
 awaken the bounty of the acolytes of chivalry toward those 
 whose business it was to i*iegister their armorial bearings, and 
 celebrate the deeds by which they were illustrated. The call 
 was, of course, liberally and courteously answered by those 
 to whom it was addressed. Vamey gave his largesse with an 
 affectation of complaisance and humility. Ealeigh bestowed 
 his with the graceful ease peculiar to one who has attained 
 his own place, and is familiar with its dignity. Honest 
 Blount gave what his tailor had left him of his half-year's 
 rent, dropping some pieces in his hurry, then stooping down 
 to look for them, and then distributing them amongst the 
 various claimants with the anxious face and mien of the 
 parish beadle dividing a dole among paupers. 
 
 These donations were accepted with the usual clamor and 
 vivats of applause common on such occasions; but, as the 
 parties gratified were chiefly dependents of Lord Leicester, 
 it was Vaimey whose name was repeated with the loudeet 
 
 * See Famitare of Kenilworth. Note 19. 
 
KENILWORTH. 845 
 
 ftcclamations. Lamboume, especially, distinguished himself 
 by his vociferations of " Long life to Sir Eichard Vamey! 
 Health and honor to Sir Eichard! Never was a more worthy 
 
 knight dubbed " Then, suddenly sinking his voice, he 
 
 added — " since the valiant Sir Pandarus of Troy " — a wind- 
 ing-up of his clanaorous applause which set all men a-laughing 
 who were within hearing of it. 
 
 It is unnecessary to say anything farther of the festivities 
 of the evening, which were so brilliiant in themselves, and 
 received with such obvious and willing satisfaction by the 
 Queen, that Leicester retired to his own apartment with all 
 the giddy raptures of successful ambition. Vamey, who had 
 changed his splendid attire, and now waited on his patron 
 in a very modest and plain undress, attended to do the honors 
 of the earl's coucher. 
 
 "How! Sir Eichard,'' said Leicester, smiling, "your new 
 rank scarce suits the humility of this attendance." 
 
 " I would disown that rank, my lord," said Varney, " could 
 I think it was to remove me to a distance from your lord- 
 ship's person." 
 
 " Thou art a grateful fellow," said Leicester; " but I must 
 not allow you to do what would abate you in the opinion of 
 others." 
 
 While thus speaking, he still accepted, without hesitation, 
 the offices about his person, which the new-made knight 
 seemed to render as eagerly as if he had really felt, in dis- 
 charging the task, that pleasure which his words expressed. 
 
 " I am not afraid of men's misconstruction," he said, in 
 answer to Leciester's remark, " since there is not — permit me 
 to undo the collar — a man within the castle who does not 
 expect very soon to see persons of a rank far superior to 
 that which, by your goodness, I now hold, rendering the 
 duties of the bed-chamber to you, and accounting it an 
 honor." 
 
 "It might, indeed, so have been," said the earl, with an 
 involuntary sigh; and then presently added, " My gown, Var- 
 ney — I will look out on the night. Is not the moon near to 
 the full?" 
 
 "I think so, my lord, according to the calendar," answered 
 Varney. 
 
 There was an abutting window, which opened on a small 
 projecting balcony of stone, battlemented as is uauai in 
 Gothic castles. The earl undid the lattice, and stepped out 
 into the open air. The station he had chosen commanded an 
 
^4i WA VERLET NO VM^, 
 
 extensive view of the lake and woodlands beyond, where the 
 bright moonlight rested on the clear blue waters and the 
 distant masses of oak and elm trees. The moon rode high 
 in the heavens, attended by thousands and thousands of 
 inferior luminaries. All seemed already to be hushed in the 
 nether world, excepting occasionally the voice of the watch, 
 for the yeomen of the guard performed that duty wherever 
 the Queen was present in person, and the distant ba5dng of 
 the hounds, disturbed by the preparations amongst the 
 grooms and the prickers for a magnificent hunt, which was 
 to be the amusement of the next day. 
 
 Leicester looked out on the blue arch of heaven, with 
 gestures and a countenance expressive of anxious exultation, 
 while Varney, who remained within the darkened apartment, 
 could, himself unnoticed, with a secret satisfaction, see his 
 patron stretch his hands with earnest gesticidation toward 
 the heavenly bodies. 
 
 "Ye distant orbs of living fire," so ran the muttered in- 
 vocation of the ambitious earl, " ye are silent while you wheel 
 your mystic rounds, but Wisdom has given to you a voice. 
 Tell me,, then, to what end is my high course destined! 
 Shall the greatness to which I have aspired be bright, pre- 
 eminent, and stable as your own; or am I but doomed to draw 
 a brief and glittering train along the nightly darkness, and 
 then to sink down to earth, like the base refuse of those 
 artificial fires with which men emulate your rays? '* 
 
 He looked on the heavens in profound silence for a minute 
 or two longer, and then again stepped into the apartment, 
 where Varney seemed to have been engaged in putting the 
 earl's jewels into a casket. 
 
 " What said Alasco of my horoscope? " demanded Leices- 
 ter. "You already told me, but it has escaped me, for I 
 think but lightly of that art." 
 
 "Many learned and great men have thought otherwise," 
 said Varney; " and, not to flatter your lordship, my own 
 opinion leans that way." 
 
 " Aye, Saul among the prophets! " said Leicester. " I 
 thought thou wert skeptical in all such matters as thou 
 couldst neither see, hear, smell, taste, or touch, and that thy 
 belief was limited by thy senses." 
 
 " Perhaps, my lord," said Varney, " I may be misled on the 
 present occasion by my wish to find the predictions of 
 astrology true. Alasco says that your favorite planet is cul- 
 minating and that the adverse influence — he would not use 
 
KENILWORTB, 347 
 
 a plainer term — ^though not overcome, was evidently com- 
 bust, I think he said, or retrograde." 
 
 "It is even so," said Leicester, looking at an abstract of 
 astrological calculations which he had in his hand: "the 
 stronger influence will prevail, and, as I think, the evil horn- 
 pass away. Lend me your hand. Sir Eichard, to doff my 
 gown; and remain an instant, if it is not too burdensome to 
 your knighthood, while I compose myself to sleep. I believe 
 the bustle of this day has fevered my blood, for it streams 
 through my veins like a current of molten lead — remain an 
 instant, I pray you: I would fain feel my eyes heavy ere I 
 closed them." 
 
 Varney officiously assisted his lord to bed, and placed a 
 massive silver night-lamp, with a short sword, on a marble 
 table which stood close by the head of the couch. Either in 
 order to avoid the light of the lamp or to hide his counte- 
 nance from Varney, Leicester drew the curtain, heavy with 
 entwined silk and gold, so as completely to shade his face. 
 Varney took a seat near the bed, but with his back toward 
 his master, as if to intimate that he was not watching him, 
 and quietly waited till Leicester himeelf led the way to the 
 topic by which his mind was engrossed. 
 
 " And so, Vamey," said the earl, after waiting in vain till 
 his dependent should commence the conversation, " men talk 
 of the Queen's favor toward me? " 
 
 "Aye, my good lord," said Vamey; "of what can they 
 else, since it is so strongly manifested ? " 
 
 " She is indeed my good and gracious mistress," said 
 Leicester, after another pause; " but it is written, ' Put not 
 thy trust in princes.' " 
 
 " A good sentence and a true," said Vamey, " unless you 
 cam unite their interest with yours so absolutely that they 
 must needs sit on your wrist like hooded hawks." 
 
 " I know what thou meanest," said Leicester, impatiently, 
 "thooigh thou art to-night so prudentially careful of what 
 thou sayst to me. Thou wouldst intimate, I might marry the 
 Queen if I would?" 
 
 "It is your speech, my lord, not mine," answered Vamey; 
 "but whosesoever be the speech, it is the thought of 
 ninety-nine out of an hundred men throughout broad Eng- 
 land." 
 
 "Aye, but," said Leicester, turning himself in his bed, 
 "the hundredth man knows better. Thou, for example, 
 jsnowest the obsta<jle that cannot be overleaped." 
 
348 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 " It must, my lord, if the stars speak true," said Vamey, 
 composedly. 
 
 " What! talk'st thou of them," said Leicester, " that be- 
 lievest not in them or in aught else? " 
 
 " You mistake, my lord, under your gracious pardon," said 
 Vamey: "I believe in many things that predict the future. 
 I believe, if showers fall in April, that we shall have flowers 
 in May; that if the sim shines, grain will ripen; and I believe 
 in much natural philosophy to the same effect, which, if the 
 stars swear to me, I will say the stars speak the truth. And 
 in like manner, I will not disbelieve that which I see wished 
 f OP- and expected on earth, solely because the astrologers have 
 read it in the heavens." 
 
 " Thou art right," said Leicester, again tossing himself on 
 his couch — " earth does wish for it. I have had advices 
 from the Reformed Churches of Germany, from the Low 
 Countries, from Switzerland, urging this as a point on which 
 Europe's safety depends. France will not oppose it. The 
 ruling party in Scotland look to it as their best security. 
 Spain fears it, but cannot prevent it. And yet thou knowest 
 it is impossible." 
 
 " I know not that, my lord," said Vamey: " the countess 
 is indisposed." 
 
 "Villain!" said Leicester, starting up on his couch, and 
 seizing the sword which lay on the table beside him, " go thy 
 thoughts that way? Thou wouldst not do murder! " 
 
 " For whom or what do you hold me, my lord? " said Var- 
 ney, assuming the superiority of an innocent man subjected 
 to unjust suspicion. " I said nothing to deserve such a horrid 
 imputation as your violence infers. I said but that the 
 countess was ill. And countess though she be — lovely and 
 beloved as she is, surely your lordship must hold her to be 
 mortal? She may die, and your lordship's hand become once 
 more your own." 
 
 " Away! — away! " said Leicester, " let me have no more of 
 this." 
 
 " Good-night, my lord," said Vamey, seeming to under- 
 stand this as a command to depart; but Leicester's voice 
 interrupted his purpose. 
 
 " Thou 'scapest me not thus, sir fool," said he; " I think 
 thy knighthood has addled thy brains. Confess thou hast 
 talked of impossibilities as of things which may come to 
 
 les." 
 
 " My lord, long live your fair countess,", said Vamey; " but 
 
KENILWOBTH, 849 
 
 neither your love nor my good wishes can make her im- 
 mortal. But G-od grant she live long to be happy herself, 
 and to render you so! I see not but you may be King of 
 England notwithstanding." 
 
 " Nay, now, Vamey, thou art stark mad,'^ said Leicester. 
 
 " I would I were myself within the same nearness to a good 
 estate of freehold," said Varney. " Have we not known in 
 other countries, how a left-handed marriage might subsist 
 betwixt persons of differing degree? — aye, and be no hin- 
 drance to prevent the husband from conjoining himself after- 
 ward with a more suitable partner? " 
 
 " I ha re heard of such things in Germany," said Leicester. 
 
 " Aye, and the most learned doctors in foreign universities 
 justify the practice from the Old Testament," said Vamey. 
 "And, after all, where is the harm? The beautiful partner 
 whom you have chosen for true love has your secret hours 
 of relaxation and affection. Her fame is safe; her conscience 
 may slumber securely. You have wealth to provide royally 
 for your issue, should Heaven bless you with offspring. 
 Meanwhile, you may give to Elizabeth ten times the leisure, 
 and ten thousand tames the affection, that ever Don Philip 
 of Spain spared to her sister Mary; yet you know how she 
 doted on him though so cold and neglectful. It requires but 
 a close mouth and an open brow, and you keep your Eleanor 
 and your fair Rosamond far enough separate. Leave me to 
 build vou a bower to which no jealous queen shall find a 
 clew."" 
 
 Leicester was silent for a moment, then sighed and said, 
 "It is impossible. Good-night, Sir Richard Vamey; yet 
 
 stay Can you guess what meant Tressilian by showing 
 
 himself in such careless guise before the Queen to-day? To 
 strike her tender heart, I should guess, wdth all the sympa- 
 thies due to a lover abandoned by his mistress, and abandon- 
 ing himself." 
 
 Vamey, smothering a sneering laugh, answered, " He be- 
 lieved Master Tressilian had no such matter in his head." 
 
 "How!" said Ijeicester, "what meanest thou? There is 
 ever knavery in that laugh of thine, Varney." 
 
 "I only meant, my lord," said Varney, "that Tressilian 
 has taken the sure way to avoid heart-breaking. He hath 
 had a companion — a female companion — a mistress — a sort 
 of player's wife or sister, as I believe — with him in Mervyn's 
 Bower, where I quartered him for certain reasons of my own." 
 
 "A mistress! mean'st thou a paramour?" 
 
850 WA VEBLET NO VEL8. 
 
 '* Aye, my lord; what female else waits for hours in a gen- 
 tleman's chamber? " 
 
 " By my faith, time and space fitting, this were a good tale 
 to tell/' said Leicester. "I ever distrusted those bookish, 
 hypocritical, seeming-virtuous scholars. Well, Master Tres- 
 silian makes somewhat familiar with my house; if I look it 
 over, he is indebted for it to certain recollections. I would 
 not harm him more than I can help. Keep eye on him, how- 
 ever, Vamey." 
 
 " I lodged him for that reason," said Varney, " in Mervyn's 
 Tower, where he is under the eye of my very vigilant, if he 
 were not also my very drunken, servant, Michael Lambourne, 
 whom I have told your Grace of." 
 
 "Grace!" said Leicester; "what mean'st thou by that 
 epithet? " 
 
 " It came unawares, my lord; and yet it sounds so very 
 natural that T cannot recall it." 
 
 " It is thine own preferment that hath turned thy brain," 
 said Leicester, laughing; "new honors are as heady as new 
 wine." 
 
 " May your lordship soon have cause to say so from experi- 
 ence," said Vamey; and, wishing his patron good-night, ht 
 withdrew. 
 
CHAPTER XXXm. 
 
 Here stands the victim : there the proud betrayer, 
 E'en as the hind pull'd down by strangling dogi 
 Lies at the hunter's feet, who courteous proflfers 
 To some high dame, the Dian of the chase. 
 To whom he looks for guerdon, his sharp blade, 
 To gash the sobbing throat. 
 
 —The Woodsman. 
 
 WjL are now to return to Mervyn's Bower, the apartment, or 
 rather the prison, of the unfortunate Countess of Leicester, 
 who for some time kept within bounds her uncertainty and 
 her impatience. She was aware that, in the tumult of the 
 day, there might be some delay ere her letter could be safely 
 conveyed to the hands of Leicester, and that some time more 
 might elapse ere he could extricate himself from the necessary 
 attendance on Elizabeth, to come and visit her in her secret 
 bower. "I will not expect him," she said, "till night: he 
 cannot be absent from his royal guest, even to see me. He 
 will, I know, come earlier if it be possible, but I will not ex- 
 pect him before night." And yet all the while she did expect 
 him; and, while she tried to argue herself into a contrary be- 
 lief, each hasty noise, of the hundred she heard, sounded like 
 the hurried step of Leicester on the staircase, hastening to fold 
 her in his arms. 
 
 The fatigue of body which Amy had lately undergone, with 
 the agitation of mind natural to so cruel a state of uncertainty, 
 began by degrees strongly to affect her nerves, and she almost 
 feared her total inability to maintain the necessary self-com- 
 mand through the scenes which might lie before her. But, 
 although spoiled by an over-indulgent system of education. 
 Amy had naturally a mind of great power, united with a frame 
 which her share in her father's "woodland exercises had ren- 
 dered uncommonly healthy. She summoned to her aid such 
 mental and bodily resources; and not unconscious how much 
 the issue of her fate might depend on her own self-possession, 
 she prayed internally for strength of body and for mental 
 fortitude, and resolved, at the same time, to yield to no nerv- 
 ous impulse which might weaken either. 
 
 Yet, when the great bell of the castle, which was placed in 
 Caesar's Tower, at no great distance from that called Mervyn's, 
 began to send its pealing clamor abroad, in signal of the 
 
 S51 
 
8C2 WA VEBLET NO VEL8, 
 
 arrival of the royal procession, the din was so painfully acute 
 to ears rendered nervously sensitive by anxiety, that she could 
 hardly forbear shrieking with anguish in answer to every stun- 
 ning clash of the relentless peal. 
 
 Shortly afterward, when the small apartment was at once 
 enlightened by the shower of artificial fires with which the air 
 was suddenly filled, and which crossed each other like fiery 
 spirits, each bent on his own separate mission, or like sala- 
 manders executing a frolic dance in the region of the sylphs, 
 the countess felt at first as if each rocket shot close by her 
 eyes and discharged its sparks and flashes so nigh that she 
 could feel a sense of heat. But she struggled against these 
 fantastic terrors, and compelled herself to arise, stand by the 
 window, look out, and gaze upon a sight which at another 
 time would have appeared to her at once captivating and 
 fearful. The magnificent towers of the castle were enveloped 
 in garlands of artificial fire, or shrouded with tiaras of pale 
 smoke. The surface of the lake glowed like molten iron, 
 while many fireworks (then thought extremely wonderful, 
 though now common), whose flame continued to exist in the 
 opposing element, dived and rose, hissed and roared, and 
 spouted fire, like so many dragons of enchantment sporting 
 upon a burning lake. 
 
 Even Amy was for a moment interested by what was to her 
 so new a scene. " I had thought it magical art," she said, 
 *'but poor Tressilian taught me to judge of such things as 
 they are. Great God! and may not these idle splendors re- 
 semble my own hoped-for happiness — a single spark, which is 
 instantly swallowed up by surrounding darkness — a precarious 
 glow, which rises but for a brief spaee in the air, that its fall 
 may be the lower? Leicester! after all — all that thou hast 
 said — hast sworn — that Amy was thy love, thy life, can it be 
 that thou art the magician at whose nod these enchantments 
 arise, and that she sees them as an outcast, if not a captive? " 
 
 The sustained, prolonged, and repeated bursts of music 
 from so many different quarters, and at so many varying 
 points of distance, which sounded as if not the Castle of Kenil- 
 worth nly, but the whole country around, had been at once 
 the scene of solemnizing some high national festival, carried 
 the same oppressive thought still closer to her heart, while 
 some notes would melt in distant and falling tones, as if in 
 compassion for her sorrows, and some burst close and near 
 upon her, as if mocking her misery, vrith all the insolence of 
 unlimited mirth. "These sounds," she said, "are mine — • 
 
KEmL WORTH. 853 
 
 mine because they are his; but I cannot say, ' Be still, these 
 loud strains suit me not '; and the voice of the meanest peas- 
 ant that mingles in the dance would have more power to 
 modulate the music than the command of her who is mistress 
 of all! '' 
 
 By degrees the sounds of revelry died away, and the count- 
 ess withdrew from the window at which she had sat listening 
 to them. It was night, but the moon afforded considerable 
 light in the room, so that Amy was able to make the arrange- 
 ment which she judged necessary. There was hope that 
 Leicester might come to her apartment as soon as the revel in 
 the castle had subsided; but there was also risk she might be 
 disturbed by some unauthorized intruder. She had lost con- 
 fidence in the key, since Tressilian had entered so easily, 
 though the door was locked on the inside; yet all the ad- 
 ditional security she could think of was to place the table 
 across the door that she might be warned by the noise should 
 anyone attempt to enter. Having taken these necessary pre- 
 cautions, the unfortunate lady withdrew to her couch, 
 stretched herself down on it, mused in anxious expectation, 
 and counted more than one hour after midnight, till ex- 
 hausted nature proved too strong for love, for grief, for fear, 
 nay, even for uncertainty, and she slept. 
 
 Yes, she slept. The Indian sleeps at the stake in the inter- 
 vals between his tortures; and mental torments, in like man- 
 ner, exhaust by long continuance the sensibility of the 
 sufferer, so that an interval of lethargic repose must neces- 
 sarily ensue ere the pangs which they inflict can again be 
 renewed. 
 
 The countess slept, then, for several hours, and dreamed 
 that she was in the ancient house at Cumnor Place, listening 
 for the low whistle with which Leicester often used to an- 
 nounce his presence in the courtyard, when arriving suddenly 
 on one of his stolen visits. But on this occasion, instead of 
 a whistle, she heard the peculiar blast of a bugle-horn, such as 
 her father used to wind on the fall of the stag, and which 
 huntsmen then called a " mort." She ran, as she thought, to 
 a window that looked into the courtyard, which she saw filled 
 with men in mourning garments. The old curate seemed 
 about to read the funeral service. Mumblazen, tricked out 
 in an antique dress, like an ancient herald, held aloft a scutch- 
 eon, with its usual decorations of skulls, cross-bones, and 
 hour-glasses, surrounding a coat-of-arms, of which she could 
 only distinguish that it was surmounted with an earl's coronet. 
 
854 WAVBRLET NOVELS, 
 
 The old man looked at her with a ghastly smile, and daid, 
 " Amy, are they not rightly quartered ? '' Just as he spoke 
 the horns again poured on her ear the melancholy yet wild 
 strain of the mort, or death-note, and she awoke. 
 
 The countess awoke to hear a real bugle note, or rather the 
 combined breath of many bugles, sounding not the mort, but 
 the jolly reveille, to remind the inmates of the Castle of Kenil- 
 worth that the pleasures of the day were to commence with a 
 magnificent st^-hunting in the neighboring chase. Amy 
 started up from her couch, listened to the sound, saw the first 
 beams of the summer morning already twinkle through the 
 lattice of her window, and recollected, with feelings of giddy 
 agony, where she was, and how circumstanced. 
 
 " He thinks not of me," she said — " he will not come nigh 
 me! A queen is his guest, and what cares he in what corner 
 of his huge castle a wretch like me pines in doubt, which is 
 fast fading into despair? " At once a sound at the door, as 
 of someone attempting to open it softly, filled her with an 
 ineffable mixture of joy and fear; and, hastening to remove 
 the obstacle she had placed against the door, and to unlock it, 
 she had the precaution to ask, " Is it thou, my love? " 
 
 *' Yes, my countess," murmured a whisper in reply. 
 
 She threw open the door, and exclaiming, " Leicester! ■' 
 flung her arms around the neck of the man who stood -with- 
 out, muffled in his cloak. 
 
 " No — not quite Leicester," answered Michael Lamboume, 
 for he it was, returning the caress with vehemence — *^ not 
 quite Leicester, my lovely and most loving duchess, but as 
 good a m.an." 
 
 With an exertion of force of which she would at another 
 time have thought herself incapable, the countess freed her- 
 self from the profane and profaning grasp of the drunken 
 debauchee, and retreated into the midst of her apartment, 
 where despair gave her courage to make a stand. 
 
 As Lamboume, on entering, dropped the lap of his cloak 
 from his face, she knew Varney's profligate servant, the very 
 last person, excepting his detested master, by whom she would 
 have wished to be discovered. But she was still closely 
 muffled in her traveling dress, and as Lamboume had scarce 
 ever been admitted to her presence at Cumnor Place, her per- 
 son, she hoped, might not be so well known to him as his was 
 to her, owing to Janet's pointing him frequently out as he 
 crossed the court, and telling stories of his wickedness. She 
 might have had still greater confidence in her disguise had her 
 
KENILWORTH. 355 
 
 experience enabled her to discover that he was much intoxi- 
 cated; but this could scarce have consoled her for the risk 
 which she might incur from such a character, in such a time, 
 place, and circumstances. 
 
 Lambourne flung the door behind him as he entered, and 
 folding his arms, as if in mockery of the attitude of distrac- 
 tion into which Amy had thrown herself, he proceeded thus: 
 " Hark ye, most fair Calipolis, — or most lovely countess of 
 clouts, and divine duchess of dark comers, — if thou takest all 
 that trouble of skewering thyself together, like a trussed fowl, 
 that there may be more pleasure in the carving, even save 
 thyself the labor. I love thy first frank manner the best; like 
 thy present as little [he made a step toward her, and stag- 
 gered] — as little as — such a damned uneven floor as this, 
 where a gentleman may break his neck, if he does not walk as 
 upright as a posture-master on the tight-rope." 
 
 " Stand back! " said the countess: " do not approach nearer 
 to me on thy peril! " 
 
 "My peril! and stand back! Why, how now, madam? 
 Must you have a better mate than honest Mike Lambourne? 
 I have been in America, girl, where the gold grows, and have 
 brought off such a load on't " 
 
 " Good friend," said the countess in great terror at the 
 ruffian's determined and audacious manner, "I prithee be- 
 gone, and leave me." 
 
 "And so I will, pretty one, when we are tired of each 
 other's company, not a Jot sooner." He seized her by the 
 arm, while, incapable of further defense, she uttered shriek 
 upon shriek. " Nay, scream away if you like it," said he, still 
 holding her fast; " 1 have heard the sea at the loudest, and I 
 mind a squalling woman no more than a miauling kitten. 
 Damn me! I have heard fifty or a hundred screaming at once, 
 when there was a town stormed." 
 
 The cries of the countess, however, brought unexpected aid, 
 in the person of Laurence Staples, who had heard her excla- 
 mations from his apartment below, and entered in good time 
 to save her from being discovered, if not from more atrocious 
 violence. Laurence was drunk also from the debauch of the 
 preceding night; but fortunately his intoxication had taken a 
 different turn from that of Lambourne. 
 
 "What the devil's noise is this in the ward?" he said. 
 "What! man and woman together in the same cell! that is 
 against rule. I will have decency under my rule, by St. 
 Peter of the Fetters." 
 
856 WA VEBLET NO VEL8. 
 
 " Get thee downstairs, thou drunken beast," said Lam- 
 bourne; " seest thou not the lady and I would be private? " 
 
 " Good sir — worthy sir,'^ said the countess, addressing the 
 jailer, " do but save me from him, for the sake of mercy! " 
 
 " She speaks fairly," said the jailer, " and I will take her 
 part. I love my prisoners; and I have as good prisoners under 
 my key as they have had in Newgate or the Compter. And 
 so, being one of my lambkins, as I say, no one shall disturb 
 her in her penfold. So, let go the woman, or I'll knock your 
 brains out with my keys." 
 
 " I'll make a blood-pudding of thy midriff first/' answered 
 Lambourne, laying his left hand on his dagger, but still de- 
 taining the countess by the arm with his right. " So have at 
 thee, thou old ostrich, whose only living is upon a bunch of 
 iron keys! " 
 
 Laurence raised the arm of Michael, and prevented him 
 from drawing his dagger; and as Lambourne struggled and 
 strove to shake him off, the countess made a sudden exertion 
 on her side, and slipping her hand out of the glove an which 
 the ruffian still kept hold, she gained her liberty and, escap- 
 ing from the apartment, ran downstairs; while, at the same 
 moment, she heard the two combatants fall on the floor with 
 a noise which increased her terror. The outer wicket offered 
 no impediment to her flight, having been opened for Lam- 
 bourne's admittance; so that she succeeded in escaping down 
 the stair, and fled into the Pleasance, which seemed to her 
 hasty glance the direction in which she was most likely to 
 avoid pursuit. 
 
 Meanwhile, Laurence and Lambourne rolled on the floor 
 of the apartment, closely grappled together. Neither had, 
 happily, opportunity to draw their daggers; but Laurence 
 found space enough to dash his heavy keys across Michael's 
 face, and Michael, in return, grasped the turnkey so felly by 
 the throat that the blood gushed from nose and mouth; so 
 that they were both gory and filthy spectacles, when one of 
 the other officers of the household, attracted by the noise of 
 the fray, entered the room, and with some difficulty effected 
 the separation of the combatants. 
 
 ''A murrain on you both," said the charitable mediator, 
 " and especially on you. Master Lambourne! What the fiend 
 lie you here for, fighting on the floor, like two butchers' curs 
 in the kennel of the shambles ? " 
 
 Lambourne arose, and, somewhat sobered by the interposi- 
 tion of a tliird party, looked with something less than his 
 
KEmLWORTH. 357 
 
 usual brazen impudence of visage. " We fought for a wench, 
 an thou must know," was his reply. 
 
 "A wench! Where is she?" said the officer. 
 
 " Why, vanished, I think," said Lambourne, looking around 
 him; " unless Laurence hath swallowed her. That filthy 
 paunch of his devours as many distressed damsels and op- 
 pressed orphans as e'er a giant in King Arthur's history: they 
 are his prime food; he worries them body, soul, and sub- 
 stance." 
 
 "Aye — aye! It's no matter," said Laurence, gathering up 
 his huge ungainly form from the floor; " but I have had your 
 betters. Master Michael Lambourne, under the little turn of 
 my forefinger and thumb; and I shall have thee, before all's 
 done, under my hatches. The impudence of thy brow will 
 not always save thy shin-bones from iron, and thy foul, thirsty 
 gullet from a hempen cord." The words were no sooner out 
 of his mouth when Lambourne again made at him. 
 
 " Nay, go not to it again," said the sewer, " or I will call for 
 him shall tame you both, and that is Master Varney — Sir 
 Richard, I mean; he is stirring, I promise you: I saw him 
 cross the court just now." 
 
 "Didst thou, by G ?" said Lambourne, seizing on the 
 
 basin and ewer which stood in the apartment. " Nay, then, 
 element, do thy work. I thought I had enough of thee last 
 night, when I floated about for Orion, like a cork on a fer- 
 menting cask of ale." 
 
 So saying, he fell to work to cleanse from his face and 
 hands the signs of the fray, and get his apparel into some 
 order. 
 
 "What hast thou done to him?" said the sewer, speaking 
 aside to the jailer; " his face is fearfully swelled." 
 
 " It is but the imprint of the key of my cabinet, too good 
 a mark for his gallows-face. No man shall abuse or insult my 
 prisoners; they are my jewels, and I lock them in safe casket 
 accordingly. And so, mistress, leave off your wailing. Hey! 
 why, surely there was a woman here! " 
 
 " I think you are all mad this morning," said the sewer. 
 " I saw no woman here, nor no man neither in a proper sense, 
 but only two beasts rolling on the floor." 
 
 " Nay, then, I am undone," said the jailer: " the prison's 
 broken, that is all. Kenil worth prison is broken," he con- 
 tinued, in a tone of maudlin lamentation, " which was the 
 strongest jail betwixt this and the Welsh marches — aye. and a 
 house that has had knights, and earls, and kings sleeping in it. 
 
8«8 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 as secure as ii they had been in the Tower of London. It is 
 broken, the prisoners fled, and the jailer in much danger of 
 being hanged! " 
 
 So saying, he retreated down to his own den to conclude his 
 lamentations, or to sleep himself sober. Lambourne and the 
 sewer followed him close, and it was well for them, since the 
 jailer, out of mere habit, was about to lock the wicket after 
 him; and had they not been within the reach of interfering, 
 they would have had the pleasure of being shut up in the 
 turret-chamber, from which the countess had been just de- 
 livered. 
 
 That unhappy lady, as soon as she found herself at liberty, 
 fled, as we have already mentioned, into the Pleasance. She 
 had seen this richly ornamented space of ground from the 
 window of Mervyn^s Tower; and it occurred to her, at the 
 moment of her escape, that, among its numerous arbors, bow- 
 ers, fountains, statues, and grottoes, she might find some re- 
 cess in which she could lie concealed until she had an 
 opportunity of addressing herself to a protector, to whom she 
 might communicate as much as she dared of her forlorn situ- 
 ation, and through those means she might supplicate an inter- 
 view with her husband. 
 
 " If I could see my guide," she thought, '^ I would learn if 
 he had delivered my letter. Even did I but see Tressilian, it 
 were better to risk Dudley's anger, by confiding my whole 
 situation to one who is the very soul of honor, than to run the 
 hazard of farther insult among the insolent menials of this 
 ill-ruled place. I will not again venture into an inclosed 
 apartment. I will wait — I will watch; amidst so many human 
 beings, there must be some kind heart which can judge and 
 compassionate what mine endures." 
 
 In truth, more than one party entered and traversed the 
 Pleasance. But they were in joyous groups of four or five 
 persons together, laughing and jesting in their own fullness of 
 mirth and lightness of heart. 
 
 The -retreat which she had chosen gave her the easy alterna- 
 tive of avoiding observation. It was but stepping back to 
 the farthest recess of a grotto, ornamented with rustic work 
 and moss-seats, and terminated by a fountain, and she might 
 easily remain concealed, or at her pleasure discover herself 
 to any solitary wanderer whose curiosity might lead him to 
 that romantic retirement. Anticipating such an opportunity, 
 she looked into the clear basin which the silent fountain held 
 up to her like a mirror, and felt shocked at ner own appear- 
 
KENILWORTH. 359 
 
 ance, and doubtful at the same time, muffled and disfigured 
 as her disguise made her seem to herself, whether any female 
 (and it was from the compassion of her own sex that she 
 chiefly expected sympathy) would engage in conference with 
 so suspicious an object. Eeasoning thus like a woman, to 
 whom external appearance is scarcely in any circumstances 
 a matter of unimportance, and like a beauty, who had some 
 confidence in the power of her own charms, she laid aside her 
 traveling cloak and capotaine hat, and placed them beside her, 
 so that she could assume them in an instant, ere one could 
 penetrate from the entrance of the grotto to its extremity, in 
 case the intrusion of Varney or of Lambourne should render 
 such disguise necessary. The dress which she wore under these 
 vestments was somewhat of a theatrical cast, so as to suit the 
 assumed personage of one of the females who was to act in 
 the pageant. Wayland had found the means of arranging it 
 thus upon the second day of their journey, having experienced 
 the service arising from the assumption of such a character on 
 the preceding day. The fountain, acting both as a mirror and 
 ewer, afforded Amy the means of a brief toilet, of which she 
 availed herself as hastily as possible; then took in her hand 
 her small casket of jewels, in case she might find them useful 
 intercessors, and retiring to the darkest and most sequestered 
 nook, sat down on a seat of moss, and awaited till fate should 
 give her some chance of rescue or of propitiating an inter- 
 cessor. 
 
CHAPTEK XXXIV. 
 
 Hare you not seen the partridge quake. 
 
 Viewing the hawk approaching nigh V 
 She cuddles close beneath the brake, 
 
 Afraid to sit, afraid to flj. 
 
 — ^Pbiob. 
 
 It chanced, upon that memorable morning, that one of the 
 earliest of the huntress train who appeared from her chamber 
 in full array for the chase was the princess for whom all these 
 pleasures were instituted, England's Maiden Queen. I know 
 not if it were by chance, or out of the befitting courtesy due 
 to a mistress by whom he was so much honored, that she had 
 scarcely made one step beyond the threshold of her chamber 
 ere Leicester was by her side, and proposed to her, until the 
 preparations for the chase had been completed, to view the 
 Pleasance and the gardens which it connected with the castle 
 yard. 
 
 To this new scene of pleasures they walked, the eaxl's arm 
 affording his sovereign the occasional support which she re- 
 quired, where flights of steps, then a favorite ornament in a 
 garden, conducted them from terrace to terrace and from 
 parterre to parterre. The ladies in attendance, gifted with 
 prudence, or endowed perhaps with the amiable desire of act- 
 ing as they would be done by, diH not conceive their duty to 
 the Queen's person required them, though they lost not sight 
 of her, to approach so near as to share, or perhaps disturb, the 
 conversation betwixt the Queen and the earl, who was not only 
 her host, but also her most trusted, esteemed, and favored 
 Bervant. They contented themselves with admiring the grace 
 of this illustrious couple, whose robes of state were now ex- 
 changed for hunting-suits, almost equally magnificent. 
 
 Elizabeth's silvan dress, which was of a pale blue silk, with 
 silver lace and aiguillettes, approached in form to that of the 
 ancient Amazons; and was, therefore, well suited at once to 
 her height and to the dignity of her mien, which her conscious 
 rank and long habits of authority had rendered in some degree 
 too masculine to be seen to the best advantage in ordinary 
 female weeds. Leicester's hunting-suit of Lincoln green, 
 richly embroidered with gold, and crossed by the gay baldric, 
 which sustained a bugle-horn, and a wood-knife instead of a 
 
 360 
 
KENILWORTH. 361 
 
 sword, became its master, as did his other vestments of court 
 or of war. For such were the perfections of his form and 
 mien, that Leicester was always supposed to be seen to the 
 greatest advantage in the character and dress which for the 
 time he represented or wore. 
 
 The conversation of Elizabeth and the favorite earl has not 
 reached us in detail. But those who watched at some dis- 
 tance (and the eyes of courtiers and court ladies are right 
 sharp) were of opinion that on no occasion did the dignity of 
 Elizabeth, in gesture and motion, seem so decidedly to soften 
 away into a mien expressive of indecision and tenderness. 
 Her step was not only slow, but even unequal, a thing most 
 unwonted in her carriage; her looks seemed bent on the 
 ground, and there was a timid disposition to withdraw from 
 her companion, which external gesture in females often indi- 
 cates exactly the opposite tendency in the secret mind. The 
 Duchess of Eutland, who ventured nearest, was even heard to 
 aver that she discerned a tear in Elizabeth's eye and a blush 
 on her cheek; and still farther, " She bent her looks on the 
 ground to avoid mine," said the duchess; " she who, in her 
 ordinary mood, could look down a lion." To what conclu- 
 sion these symptoms led is sufficiently evident; nor were they 
 probably entirely groundless. The progress of a private con- 
 versation betwixt two persons of different sexes is often de- 
 cisive of their fate, and gives it a turn very different perhaps 
 from what they themselves anticipated. Gallantry becomes 
 mingled with conversation, and affection and passion come 
 gradually to mix with gallantry. Nobles, as well as shepherd 
 swains, will, in such a trying moment, say more than they in- 
 tended; and queens, like village maidens, will listen longer 
 than they should. 
 
 Horses in the meanwhile neighed and champed the bits 
 with impatience in the base-court; hounds yelled in their 
 couples, and yeomen, rangers, and prickers lamented the ex- 
 haling of the dew, which would prevent the scent from lying. 
 But Leicester had another chase in view, or, to speak more 
 justly toward him, had become engaged in it without premedi- 
 tation, as the high-spirited hunter which follows the cry of 
 the hounds that have crossed his path by accident. The 
 Queen, an accomplished and handsome woman — the pride of 
 England, the hope of France and Holland, and the dread of 
 Spain — ^had probably listened with more than usual favor to 
 that mixture of romantic gallantry with which she always 
 loved to be addressed; and the earl had, in vanity, in ambition. 
 
362 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 or in both, thrown in more and more of that delicious in- 
 gredient, until his importunity became the language of love 
 itself. 
 
 " No, Dudley/' said Elizabeth, yet it was with broken ac- 
 cents — " no, I must be the mother of my people. Other ties, 
 that make the lowly maiden happy, are denied to her sov- 
 ereign. No, Leicester, urge it no more. Were I as others, 
 free to seek my own happiness, then, indeed' — ^but it cannot — 
 cannot be. Delay the chase — delay it for half an hour — and 
 leave me, my lord.'* 
 
 " How, leave you, madam? '' said Leicester. " Has my mad- 
 ness offended you? " 
 
 " No, Leicester, not so! " answered the queen hastily; " but 
 it is madness, and must not be repeated. Go, but go not far 
 from hence; and meantime let no one intrude on my privacy." 
 
 While she spoke thus, Dudley bowed deeply, and retired 
 with a slow and melancholy air. The Queen stood gazing after 
 him, and murmured to herself, " Were it possible — were it 
 tut possible! But no — ^no; Elizabeth must be the wife and 
 mother of England alone." 
 
 As she spoke thus, and in order to avoid someone whose 
 step she heard approaching, the Queen turned into the grotto 
 in which her hapless, and yet but too successful rival lay con- 
 cealed. 
 
 The mind of England's Elizabeth, if somewhat shaken by 
 the agitating interview to which she had just put a period, 
 was of that firm and decided character which soon recovers 
 its natural tone. It was like one of those ancient druidical 
 monuments called rocking-stones. The figure of Cupid, boy 
 as he is painted, could put her feelings in motion, but the 
 power of Hercules could not have destroyed their equilibrium. 
 As she advanced with a slow pace toward the inmost ex- 
 tremity of the grotto, her countenance, ere she had proceeded 
 half the length, had recovered its dignity of look and her mien 
 its air of command. 
 
 It was then the Queen became aware that a female figure 
 was placed beside, or rather partly behind, an alabaster col- 
 umn, at the foot of which arose the pellucid fountain, which 
 occupied the inmost recess of the twilight grotto. The 
 classical mind of Elizabeth suggested the story of Numa and 
 Egeria, and she doubted not that some Italian sculptor had 
 here represented the naid whose inspirations gave the laws to 
 Eome. As she advanced, she beeame doubtful whether she 
 beheld a statue or a form of flesh and blood. The unfortu- 
 
KENILWORTH. 363 
 
 nate Amy, indeed, remained motionless, betwixt the desire 
 which she had to make her condition known to one of her 
 own sex and her awe for the stately form which approached 
 her, and which, though her eyes had never before beheld, her 
 fears instantly suspected to be the personage she really was. 
 Amy had arisen from her seat with the purpose of addressing 
 the lady who entered the grotto alone, and, as she at first 
 thought, so opportunely. But when she recollected the alarm 
 which Leicester had expressed at the Queen^s knowing aught 
 of their union, and became more and more satisfied that the 
 person whom she now beheld was Elizabeth herself, she stood 
 with one foot advanced and one withdrawn, her arms, head, 
 and hands perfectly motionless, and her cheek as pallid as the 
 alabaster pedestal against which she leaned. Her dress was 
 of pale sea-green silk, little distinguished in that imperfect 
 light, and somewhat resembled the drapery of a Grecian 
 nymph, such an antique disguise having been thought the 
 most secure, where so many masquers and revelers were 
 assembled; so that the Queen's doubt of her being a living 
 form was well justified by all contingent circumstances, as 
 well as by the bloodless cheek and the fixed eye. 
 
 Elizabeth remained in doubt, even after she had approached 
 within a few paces, whether she did not gaze on a statue so 
 cunningly fashioned that by the doubtful light it could not be 
 distinguished from reality. She stopped, therefore, and fixed 
 upon this interesting object her princely look with so much 
 keenness that the astonishment which had kept Amy im- 
 movable gave way to awe, and she gradually cast down her 
 eyes and drooped her head under the commanding gaze of the 
 sovereign. Still, however, she remained in all respects, saving 
 this slow and profound inclination of the head, motionless 
 and silent. 
 
 From her dress, and the casket which she instinctively held 
 in her hand, Elizabeth naturally conjectured that the beauti- 
 ful but mute figure which she beheld was a performer in one 
 of the various theatrical pageants which had been placed in 
 different situations to surprise her with their homage, and that 
 the poor player, overcome with awe at her presence, had either 
 forgot the part assigned her or lacked courage to go through 
 it. It was natural and courteous to give her some encourage- 
 ment; and Elizabeth accordingly said, in a tone of condescend- 
 ing kindness, " How now, fair nymph of this lovely grotto, 
 art thou spell-bound and struck with dumbness by the charms 
 of the wicked enchanter whom men term fear? We are his 
 
364 WAVERLEJ NOVELS. 
 
 sworn enemy, maiden, and can reverse his charm. Speak, wa 
 command thee.'^ 
 
 Instead of answering her by speech, the unfortunate count- 
 ess dropped on her knee before the Queen, let her casket fall 
 from her hand, and clasping her palms together, looked up io 
 the Queen's face with such a mixed agony of fear and suppli- 
 cation that Elizabeth was considerably affected. 
 
 " What may this mean? " she said; " this is a stronger pas- 
 sion than befits the occasion. Stand up, damsel; what wouldst 
 thou have with us? " 
 
 " Your protection, madam," faltered forth the unhappy 
 petitioner. 
 
 " Each daughter of England has it while she is worthy of 
 it," replied the Queen; " but your distress seems to have a 
 deeper root than a forgotten task. Why, and in what, do you 
 crave our protection ? " 
 
 Anay hastily endeavored to recall what she were best to 
 say, which might secure herself from the imminent dangers 
 that surrounded her, without endangering her husband; and 
 plunging from one thought to another, amidst the chaos 
 which filled her mind, she could at length, in answer to the 
 Queen's repeated inquiries in what she sought protection, only 
 falter out, " Alas! I know not." 
 
 "This is folly, maiden," said Elizabeth impatiently; for 
 there was something in the extreme confusion of the sup- 
 pliant which irritated her curiosity, as well as interested her 
 feelings. " The sick man must tell his malady to the physi- 
 cian, nor are we accustomed to ask questions so oft without 
 receiving an answer." 
 
 " I request — I implore," stammered forth the unfortunate 
 countess — " I beseech your gracious protection — against — 
 against one Varney." She choked well-nigh as she uttered 
 the fatal word, which was instantly caught up by the Queen. 
 
 " What Varney ? Sir Eichard Varney — the servant of Lord 
 Leicester? What, damsel, are you to him, or he to you?" 
 
 "I — I — was his prisoner — and he practiced on my life — 
 and I broke forth to — to " 
 
 " To throw thyself on my protection, doubtless," said 
 Elizabeth. " Thou shalt have it — that is, if thou art worthy; 
 for we will sift this matter to the uttermost. Thou art," she 
 said, bending on the countess an eye which seemed designed 
 to pierce her verv inmost soul — " thou art Amy, daughter 
 of Sir Hugh Eobsart of Lidcote Hall? " 
 
 " Eorgive me — forgive me, most gracious princess! " said 
 
 i 
 

 KENILWORTH. 365 
 
 Amy, dropping once more on her knee, from which she had 
 arisen. 
 
 " For what should I forgive thee, silly wench? " said Eliza- 
 beth; " for being the daughter of thine own father? Thou 
 art brain-sick surely. Well, I see I must wring the story from 
 thee by inches. Thou didst deceive thine old and honored 
 father — thy look confesses it; cheated Master Tressilian — thy 
 blush avouches it; and married this same Varney?^' 
 
 Amy sprung on her feet, and interrupted the Queen eagerly, 
 with, " No, madam — no; as there is a God above us, I am not 
 the sordid wretch you would make me! I am not the wife of 
 that contemptible slave — of that most deliberate villain! I 
 am not the wife of Vamey! I would rather be the bride of 
 destruction! " 
 
 The Queen, overwhelmed in her turn by Amy's vehemence, 
 stood silent for an instant, and then replied, " Why, God ha' 
 mercy, woman! I see thou canst talk fast enough when the 
 theme likes thee. Nay, tell me, woman,'' she continued, for 
 to the impulse of curiosity was now added that of an un- 
 defined jealousy that some deception had been practiced on 
 her — " tell me, woman — for, by God's day, I will know — 
 whose wife, or whose paramour, art thou? Speak out, and be 
 speedy. Thou wert better dally with a lioness than with 
 Elizabeth." 
 
 Urged to this extremity, dragged as it were by irresistible 
 force to the verge of the precipice, which she saw but could 
 not avoid, permitted not a moment's respite by the eager 
 words and menacing gestures of the offended Queen, Amy at 
 length uttered in despair, " The Earl of Leicester knows 
 it all." 
 
 " The Earl of Leicester! " said Elizabeth, in utter astonish- 
 ment. " The Earl of Leicester! " she repeated, with kindling 
 anger. "Woman, thou art set on to this — ^thou dost belie 
 him: he takes no keep of such things as thou art. Thou art 
 suborned to slander the noblest lord and the truest-hearted 
 gentleman in England! But were he the right hand of our 
 trust, or something yet dearer to us, thou shalt have thy hear- 
 ing, and that in his presence. Come with me — come with me 
 instantly! " 
 
 As Amy shrunk back with terror, which the incensed Queen 
 interpreted as that of conscious guilt, Elizabeth rapidly ad- 
 vanced, seized on her arm, and hastened with swift and long 
 steps out of the grotto, and along the principal alley of the 
 Pleasance, dragging with her the terrified countess, whom she 
 
366 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 still held by the arm, and whose utmost exertions could but 
 just keep pace with those of the indignant Queen. 
 
 Leicester was at this moment the center of a splendid group 
 of lords and ladies, assembled together under an arcade, or 
 portico, which closed the alley. The company had drawn to- 
 gether in that place to attend the commands of her Majesty 
 when the hunting-party should go forward, and their aston- 
 ishment may be imagined when, instead of seeing Elizabeth 
 advance toward them with her usual measured dignity of mo- 
 tion, they beheld her walking so rapidly that she was in the 
 midst of them ere they were aware; and then observed, with 
 fear and surprise, that her features were flushed betwixt anger 
 and agitation, that her hair was loosened by her haste of 
 motion, and that her eyes sparkled as they were wont when 
 the spirit of Henry VIII. mounted highest in his daughter. 
 Nor were they less astonished at the appearance of the pale, 
 extenuated, half-dead, yet still lovely, female whom the Queen 
 upheld by main strength with one hand, while with the other 
 she waved aside the ladies and nobles who pressed toward her, 
 under the idea that she was taken suddenly ill. " Where is 
 my Lord of Leicester? " she said in a tone that thrilled with 
 astonishment all the courtiers who stood around. " Stand 
 forth, my Lord of Leicester! " 
 
 If, in the midst of the most serene day of summer, when all 
 is light and laughing around, a thunderbolt were to fall from 
 the clear blue vault of heaven, and rend the earth at the very 
 feet of some careless traveler, he could not gaze upon the 
 smoldering chasm which so unexpectedly yawned before him 
 with half the astonishment and fear which Leicester felt at the 
 sight that so suddenly presented itself. He had that instant 
 been receiving, with a political affectation of disavowing and 
 misunderstanding their meaning, the half-uttered, half-inti- 
 mated congratulations of the courtiers upon the favor of the 
 Queen, carried apparently to its highest pitch during the in- 
 terview of that morning; from which most of them seemed to 
 augur that he might soon arise from their equal in rank to be- 
 come their master. And now, while the subdued yet proud 
 smile with which he disclaimed those inferences was yet curl- 
 ing his cheek, the Queen shot into the circle, her passions ex- 
 cited to the uttermost; and, supporting with one hand, and 
 apparently without an eifort, the pale and sinking form of his 
 almost expiring wife, and pointing with the finger of the other 
 to her half-dead features, demanded in a voice that sounded 
 to the ears of the astounded statesman Like the last dread 
 
KEmLWORTH, 367 
 
 trumpet-call, that is to summon body and spirit to xhe judg- 
 ment-seat, "Knowest thou this woman?" 
 
 As, at the blast of that last trumpet, the guilty shall call 
 upon the mountains to cover them, Leicester's inward 
 thoughts invoked the stately arch which he had built in his 
 pride to burst its strong conjunction and overwhelm them in 
 its ruins. But the cemented stones, architrave and battle- 
 ment, stood fast; and it was the proud master himself who, 
 as if some actual pressure had bent him to the earth, kneeled 
 down before Elizabeth, and prostrated his brow to the marble 
 flagstones on which she stood. 
 
 " Leicester," said Elizabeth, in a voice which trembled with 
 passion, " could I think thou hast practiced on me — on me 
 thy sovereign — on me thy confiding, thy too partial mistress, 
 the base and ungrateful deception which thy present con- 
 fusion surmises — by all that is holy, false lord, that head of 
 thine were in as great peril as ever was thy father's! " 
 
 Leicester had not conscious innocence, but he had pride, to 
 support him. He raised slowly his brow and features, which 
 were black and swoln with contending emotions, and only 
 replied, "My head cannot fall but by the sentence of my 
 peers; to them I will plead, and not to a princess who thus 
 requites my faithful service." 
 
 " What! my lords," said Elizabeth, looking around, " we are 
 defied, I think — defied in the castle we have ourselves be- 
 stowed on this proud man! My Lord Shrewsbury, you are 
 marshal of England, attach him of high treason! " 
 
 "Whom does your Grace mean!" said Shrewsbury, much 
 surprised, for he had that instant joined the astonished circle. 
 
 "Whom should I mean but that traitor, Dudley Earl of 
 Leicester! Cousin of Hunsdon, order out your band of gen- 
 tlemen pensioners, and take him into instant custody. I 
 say, villain, make haste! " 
 
 Hunsdon, a rough old noble, who, frOm his relationship to 
 the Boleyns, was accustomed to use more freedom with the 
 Queen than almost any other dared to do, replied bluntly, 
 "And it is like your Grace might order me to the Tower 
 to-morrow for making too much haste. I do beseech you to 
 be patient." 
 
 "Patient! God's life!" exclaimed the Queen, "name not 
 the word to me; thou know'st not of what he is guilty! " 
 
 Amy, who had by this time in some degree recovered her- 
 self, and who saw her husband, as she conceived, in the utmost 
 danger from the rage of an offended sovereign, instantly (and 
 
868 WA YERLEY NO VEL8. 
 
 alas! how many women have done the same) forgot her own 
 wrongs and her own danger in her apprehensions for him, and 
 throwing herself before the Queen, embraced her knees, while 
 she exclaimed, " He is guiltless, madam — he is guiltless: no 
 one can lay aught to the charge of the noble Leicester! " 
 
 " Why, minion," answered the Queen, " didst not thou thy- 
 self say that the Earl of Leicester was privy to thy whole 
 history?" 
 
 " Did I say so?" repeated the unhappy Amy, laying aside 
 every consideration of consistency and of self-interest. " Oh, 
 if I did, I foully belied him. May God so judge me, as I 
 believe he was never privy to a thought that would harm me! " 
 
 " Woman! " said Elizabeth, " I will know who has moved 
 thee to this; or my wrath — and the wrath of kings is a flam- 
 ing fire — shall wither and consume thee like a weed in the 
 furnace." 
 
 As the Queen uttered this threat, Leicester's better angel 
 called his pride to his aid, and reproached him with the 
 utter extremity of meanness which would overwhelm him for- 
 ever if he stooped to take shelter under the generous inter- 
 position of his wife, and abandoned her, in return for her 
 kindness, to the resentment of the Queen. He had already 
 raised his head, with the dignity of a man of honor, to avow 
 his marriage, and proclaim himself the protector of his count- 
 ess, when Varney, bom, as it appeared, to be his master's evil 
 genius, rushed into the presence, with every mark of disorder 
 on his face and apparel. 
 
 " What means this saucy intrusion? " said Elizabeth. 
 
 Varney, with the air of a man altogether overwhelmed with 
 grief and confusion, prostrated himself before her feet, ex- 
 claiming, " Pardon, my liege — pardon! or at least let your 
 justice avenge itself on me, where it is due; but spare my 
 noble, my generous, my innocent patron and master! " 
 
 Amy, who was yet kneeUng, started up as she saw the man 
 whom she deemed most odious place himself so near her, and 
 was about to fly toward Leicester, when, checked at once 
 by the uncertainty and even timidity which his looks had re- 
 assumed as soon as the appearance of his confidant seemed to 
 open a new scene, she hung back, and uttering a faint scream, 
 besought of her Majesty to cause her to be imprisoned in the 
 lowest dungeon of the castle — to deal with her as the worst of 
 criminals — " but spare," she exclaimed, " my sight and hear- 
 ing what will destroy the little judgment I have left — the 
 sight of that unutterable and most shameless villain I " 
 
KENILWORTH, 369 
 
 "And why, sweetheart? " said the Queen, moved by a new 
 impulse; "what hath he, this false knight, since such thou 
 accountest him, done to thee ? " 
 
 " Oh, worse than sorrow, madam, and worse than injury: 
 he has sown dissension where most there should be peace. I 
 shall go mad if I look longer on him! '^ 
 
 "Beshrew me, but I think thou art distraught already," 
 answered the Queen. " My Lord Hunsdon, look to this poor 
 distressed young woman, and let her be safely bestowed and 
 in honest keeping till we require her to be forthcoming." 
 
 Two or three of the ladies in attendance, either moved by 
 compassion for a creature so interesting or by some other 
 motive, offered their services to look after her; but the Queen 
 briefly answered, "Ladies, under favor, no. You have all, 
 give God thanks! sharp ears and nimble tongues; our kinsman 
 Hunsdon has ears of the dullest, and a tongue somewhat 
 rough, but yet of the slowest. Hunsdon, look to it that none 
 have speech of her." 
 
 "By Our Lady!" said Hunsdon, taking in his strong, 
 sinewy arms the fading and almost swooning form of Amy, 
 " she is a lovely child; and though a rough nurse, your Grace 
 hath given her a kind one. She is safe with me as one of my 
 own ladybiids of daughters." 
 
 So saying, he carried her off, unresistingly and almost un- 
 consciously; his war-worn locks and long gray beard mingling 
 with her light-brown tresses, as her head reclined on his strong 
 square shoulder. The queen followed them with her eye; she 
 had already, with that self-command which forms so neces- 
 sary a part of a sovereign's accomplishments, suppressed every 
 appearance of agitation, and seemed as if she desired to banish 
 all traces of her burst of passion from the recollection of those 
 who had witnessed it. " My Lord of Hunsdon says well," she 
 observed; "he is indeed a rough nurse for so tender a 
 babe." 
 
 " My Lord of Hunsdon," said the Dean of St. Asaph's, " I 
 speak it not in defamation of his more noble qualities, hath 
 a broad license in speech, and garnishes his discourse some- 
 what too freely with the cruel and superstitious oaths, which 
 savor both of prof anen ess and of old Papistrie." 
 
 " It is the fault of his blood, Mr. Dean," said the Queen, 
 turning sharply round upon the reverend dignitary as she 
 spoke; " and you may blame mine for the same distempera- 
 ture. The Boleyns were ever a hot and plain-spoken race, 
 more hasty to speak their mind than careful to choose their 
 
870 WAVERLET NOVELS 
 
 expressioiici. And, by my word, — I hope there i& no sin m 
 that affirmation? — I question if it were much cooled by mix- 
 ing with that of Tudor." 
 
 Ab she made this last observation, she smiled graciously, 
 and stole her eyes almost insensibly round to seek those of the 
 Earl of Leicester, to whom she now began to think she had 
 spoken with hasty harshness upon the unfounded suspicion of 
 a moment. 
 
 The Queen's eye found the earl in no mood to accept the 
 implied offer of conciliation. His own looks had followed, 
 with late and rueful repentance, the faded form which Huns- 
 don had just borne from the presence; they now reposed 
 gloomily on the ground, but more — so at least it seemed to 
 Elizabeth — with the expression of one who has received an 
 unjust affront than of him who is conscious of guilt. She 
 turned her face angrily from him, and said to Vamey, 
 " Speak, Sir Eichard, and explain these riddles; thou hast 
 sense and the use of speech, at least, which elsewhere we look 
 for in vain." 
 
 As she said this, she darted another resentful glance toward 
 Leicester, while the wily Varney hastened to tell his own 
 story. 
 
 " Your Majesty's piercing eye," he said, " has already de- 
 tected the cruel malady of my beloved lady; which, unhappy 
 that I am, I would not suffer to be expressed in the certificate 
 of her physician, seeking to conceal what has now broken out 
 with so much the more scandal." 
 
 " She is then distraught? " said the Queen; " indeed, we 
 doubted not of it: her whole demeanor bears it out. I found 
 her moping in a corner of yonder grotto; and every word she 
 spoke — which indeed I dragged from her as by the rack — 
 she instantly recalled and forswore. But how came she 
 hither? Why had you her not in safe-keeping?" 
 
 " My gracious liege," said Varney, " the worthy gentleman 
 under whose charge I left her. Master Anthony Foster, has 
 come hither but now, as fast as man and horse can travel, to 
 show me of her escape, but she managed with the art peculiar 
 to many who are afflicted with this malady. He is at hand 
 for examination." 
 
 '^ Let it be for another time," said the Queen. '' But, Sir 
 Richard, we envy you not your domestic felicity: your lady 
 railed on you bitterly, and seemed ready to swoon at beholding 
 you." 
 
 " It is the nature of persons in her disorder, so please your 
 
KENILWORTH. 871 
 
 ijracc/' answered Yarney, " to be ever most inveterate in their 
 spleen against those whom, in their better moments, they 
 hold nearest and dearest/' 
 
 "We have heard so, indeed," said Elizabeth, "and give 
 faith to the saying." 
 
 " May your Grace then be pleased," said Vamey, " to com- 
 mand my unfortunate wife to be delivered into the custody of 
 her friends ? " 
 
 Leicester partly started; but, making a strong effort, he 
 subdued his emotion, while Elizabeth answered sharply, " You 
 are something too hasty, Master Varney; we will have first a 
 report of the lady's health and state of mind from Masters, 
 our own physician, and then determine what shall be thought 
 Just. You shall have license, however, to see her, that if there 
 be any matrimonial quarrel betwixt you — such things we have 
 heard do occur, even betwixt a loving couple — you may make 
 it up, without further scandal to our court or trouble to our- 
 selves." 
 
 Vamey bowed low, and made no other answer. 
 
 Elizabeth again looked toward Leicester, and said, with a 
 degree of condescension which could only arise out of the 
 most heartful interest, " Discord, as the Italian poet says, will 
 find her way into peaceful convents, as well as into the privacy 
 of families; and we fear our own guards and ushers will 
 hardly exclude her from courts. My Lord of Leicester, you 
 are offended with us, and we have right to be offended with 
 you. We will take the lion's part upon us, and be the first to 
 forgive." 
 
 Leicester smoothed his brow, as by an effort, but the trouble 
 was too deep-seated that its placidity should at once return. 
 He said, however, that which fitted the occasion, " That he 
 could not have the happiness of forgiving, because she who 
 commanded him to do so could commit no injury toward 
 him." 
 
 Elizabeth seemed content with this reply, and intimated 
 her pleasure that the sports of the morning should proceed. 
 The bugles sounded — the hounds bayed — the horses pranced; 
 but the courtiers and ladies sought the amusement to which 
 they were summoned with hearts very different from those 
 which had leaped to the morning's reveille. There was 
 doubt, and fear, and expectation on every brow, and surmise 
 and intrigue in every whisper. 
 
 Blount took an opportunity to whisper into Ealeigh's ear, 
 " This storm came like a levanter in the Mediterranean/' 
 
8V2 WAVEBLEY NOVELS. 
 
 "'Varium et mutabile/'^ answered Ealeigh, in a similar 
 tone. 
 
 " Nay, I know naught of your Latin," said Blount; " but I 
 thank God Tressilian took not the sea during that hurricano. 
 He could scarce have missed shipwreck^ knowing as he does so 
 little how to trim his sails to a court gale." 
 
 " Thou wouldst have instructed him ? " said Ealeigh. 
 
 "Why, I have profited by my time as well as thou, Sir 
 Walter," replied honest Blount. "I am knight as well as 
 thou, and of the earlier creation." 
 
 "Now, God further thy wit," said Ealeigh; "but for 
 Tressilian, I would I knew what were the matter with him. 
 He told me this morning he would not leave his chamber for 
 the space of twelve hours or thereby, being bound by promise. 
 This lady's madness, when he shall learn it, will not, I fear, 
 cure his infirmity. The moon is at the fullest, and men's 
 brains are working like yeast. But hark! they sound to 
 mount. Let us to horse, Blount: we young knights must de- 
 serve our spun." 
 
CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 Sincerity, 
 Thou first of virtues, let no mortal leave 
 The onward path, although the earth should gape, 
 And from the gulf of hell destruction cry, 
 To take dissimulation's winding way. 
 
 — Douglas. 
 
 It was not till after a long and successful morning's sport, 
 and a prolonged repast which followed the return of the 
 Queen to the castle, that Leicester at length found himself 
 alone with Vamey, from whom he now learned the whole 
 particulars of the countess' escape, as they had been brought 
 to Kenilworth by Foster, who, in his terror for the conse- 
 quences, had himself posted thither with the tidings. As 
 Vamey, in his narrative, took especial care to be silent con- 
 cerning those practices on the countess' health which had 
 driven her to so desperate a resolution, Leicester, who could 
 only suppose that she had adopted it out of jealous impatience 
 to attain the avowed state and appearance belonging to her 
 rank, was not a little offended at the levity with which his 
 wife had broken his strict commands, and exposed him \jo the 
 resentment of Elizabeth. 
 
 " I have given," he said, '^ to this daughter of an obscure 
 Devonshire gentleman the proudest name in England. I 
 have made her sharer of my bed and of my fortunes. I ask 
 but of her a little patience, ere she launches forth upon the 
 full current of her grandeur, and the infatuated woman will 
 rather hazard her own shipwreck and mine, will rather in- 
 volve me in a thousand whirlpools, shoals, and quicksands, 
 and compel me to a thousand devices which shame me in 
 mine own eyes, than tarry for a little space longer in the 
 obscurity to which she was bom. So lovely, so delicate, so 
 fond, so faithful, yet to lack in so grave a matter the pru- 
 dence which one might hope from the veriest fool — ^it puts 
 me beyond my patience." 
 
 " We may post it over yet well enough," said Vamey, " if 
 my lady will be but ruled, and take on her the character 
 which the time commands." 
 
 " It is but too true, Sir Richard," said Leicester, " there is 
 indeed no other remedy. I have heard her termed thy wife 
 
874 WAVERLEY HOVELS, 
 
 in my presence, without contradiction. She must bear the 
 title until she is far from Kenilworth/' 
 
 " And long afterward, I trust," said_Vamey; then instantly 
 added, " for I cannot but hope it will be long after ere she 
 bear the title of Lady Leicester: I fear me it may scarce be 
 with safety during the life of this Queen. But your lord- 
 ship is best judge, you alone knowing what passages have 
 taken place betwixt Elizabeth and you." 
 
 "You are right, Varney," said Leicester; "I have this 
 morning been both fool and villain; and when Elizabeth hears 
 of my unhappy marriage, she cannot but think herself 
 treated with that premeditated slight which women never 
 forgive. We have once this day stood upon terms little short 
 of defiance; and to those, I fear, we must again return." 
 
 " Is her resentment, then, so implacable? " said Varney. 
 
 " Far from it," replied the earl; " for, being what she is in 
 spirit and in station, she has even this day been but too con- 
 descending, in giving me opportunities to repair what she 
 thinks my faulty heat of temper." 
 
 " Aye," answered Va-mey; " the Italians say right: in 
 lovers^ quarrels the party that loves most is always most will- 
 ing to acknowledge the greater fault. So then, my lord, if 
 this union with the lady could be concealed, you stand with 
 EHzabeth as you did? " * 
 
 Leicester sighed, and was silent for a moment, ere he 
 replied. 
 
 " Varney, I think thou art true to me, and I will tell thee 
 all. I do not stand where I did. I have spoken to Elizabeth 
 — ^under what mad impulse I know not — on a theme which 
 cannot be abandoned without touching every female feeling 
 to the quick, and which yet I dare not and cannot prosecute. 
 She can never, never forgive me for having caused and wit- 
 nessed those yieldings to human passion." 
 
 " We must do something, my lord," said Varney, " and 
 that speedily." 
 
 " There is naught to be done," answered Leicester, de- 
 spondingly; "I am like one that has long toiled up a dan- 
 gerous precipice, and when he is within one perilous stride of 
 tiie top, finds his progress arrested when retreat has become 
 impossible. I see above me the pinnacle which I cannot 
 reach, beneath me the abyss into which I must fall, as soon 
 as my relaxing grasp and dizzy brain join to hurl me from 
 my present precarious stance." 
 
 *' Think better of your situation, my lord," said Varney; 
 
KEmLWOBTH. 375 
 
 '* let us try the experiment in which yau have but now 
 acquiesced. Keep we your marriage from Elizabeth^s knowl- 
 edge, and all may yet be well. I will instantly go to the lady 
 myself. She hates me, because I have been earnest with your 
 lordship, as she truly suspects, in opposition to what she 
 terms her rights. I caxe not for her prejudices. She shall 
 listen to me; and I will show her such reasons for yielding to 
 the pressure of the times, that I doubt not to bring back her 
 consent to whatever measures these exigences may require." 
 
 " No, Varney," said Leicester; " I have thought upon what 
 is to be done, and I wdll myself speak with Amy." 
 
 It was now Vamey^s turn to feel, upon his own account, 
 the terrors which he affected to participate solely on account 
 of his patron. " Your lordship will not yourself speak with 
 the lady?" 
 
 " It is my fixed purpose," said Leicester; " fetch me one of 
 the livery cloaks; I will pass the sentinel as thy servant. 
 Thou art to have free access to her." 
 
 " But, my lord " 
 
 " I will have no ^ buts,' " replied Ijeicester; '^ it shall be 
 even thus, and not otherwise. Hunsdon sleeps, I- think, in 
 Saintlowe's Tower. We can go thither from these apart- 
 ments by tbe private passage, without risk of meeting anyone. 
 Or what if I do meet Hunsdon? he is more my friend than 
 enemy, and thick-witted enough to adopt any belief that is 
 thrust on him. Fetch me the cloak instantly." 
 
 Varney had no alternative save obedience. In a few 
 minutes Leicester was muffled in the mantle, pulled his bon- 
 net over his brows, and followed Varney along the secret 
 passage of the castle which communicated with Hunsdon's 
 apartments, in which was scarce a chance of meeting any 
 inquisitive person, and hardly light enough for any such to 
 have satisfied their curiosity. They emerged at a door where 
 Lord Hunsdon had, with military precaution, placed a sen- 
 tinel, one of his own nothern retainers as it fortuned, who 
 readily admitted Sir Eichard Varney and his attendant, 
 saying only, in his northern dialect, "I would, man, thou 
 oouldst make the mad lady be still yonder; for her moans 
 do sae dirl through my head that I would rather keep watch 
 on a snow-drift in the wastes of Catlowdie." 
 
 They hastily entered, and shut the door behind them. 
 
 "Now, good devil, if there be one," said Varney, within 
 himself, " for once help a votary at a dead pinch, for my boat 
 is amongst the breakeral" 
 
378 WAVERLEY NOVELS, 
 
 The Countess Amy, with her hair and her garments di- 
 sheveled, was seated upon a sort of couch, in an attitude of 
 the deepest affliction, out of which she was startled by the 
 opening of the door. She turned hastily round, and, fixing 
 her eye on Varney, exclaimed, " Wretch! art thou come to 
 frame some new plan of villainy? " 
 
 Leicester cut short her reproaches by stepping forward and 
 dropping his cloak, while he said, in a voice rather of 
 authority than of affection, " It is with me, madam, you have 
 to commune, not with Sir Richard Varney." 
 
 The change effected on the countess' look and manner was 
 like magic. "Dudley!" she exclaimed — "Dudley! and art 
 thou come at last? " And with the speed of lightning she 
 flew to her husband, clung around his neck, and, unheeding 
 the presence of Vamey, overwhelmed him with caresses, while 
 she bathed his face in a flood of tears; muttering, at the 
 same time, but in broken and disjointed monosyllables, the 
 fondest expressions which love teaches his votaries. 
 
 Leicester, as it seemed to him, had reason to be angry with 
 his lady for transgressing his commands, and thus placing 
 him in the perilous situation in which he had that morning 
 stood. But what displeasure could keep its ground before 
 these testimonies of affection from a being so lovely that even 
 the negligence of dress, and the withering effects of fear, 
 grief, and fatigue, which would have impaired the beauty of 
 others, rendered hers but the more interesting! He received 
 and repaid her caresses with fondness, mingled with melan- 
 choly, the last of which she seemed scarcely to observe, until 
 the first transport of her own joy was over; when, looking 
 anxiously in his face, she asked if he was ill. 
 
 " Not in my body, Amy," was his answer. 
 
 " Then I will be well, toQ. Oh, Dudley! I have been iil!^- 
 very ill, since we last met! — for I call not this morning's 
 horrible vision a meeting. I have been in sickness, in grief, 
 and in danger. But thou art come, and all is joy, and 
 health, and safety! " 
 
 "Alas! Amy," said Leicester, "thou hast undone me!" 
 
 " I, my lord! " said Amy, her cheek at once losing its 
 transient flush of joy; " how could I injure that which I love 
 better than myself? " 
 
 ^' I would not upbraid you, Amy," replied the earl; " but 
 are you not here contrary to my express commands; and does 
 not your presence here endanger both yourself and me? " 
 
 " Does it — does it indeed? " she exclaimed, eagerly; " then 
 
KENILWOBTE. 377 
 
 why am I here a moment longer? Oh, if you knew by what 
 fears I was urged to quit Cumnor Place! But I will say 
 nothing of myself, only that, if it might be otherwise, I 
 would not wilUngly return thither; yet if it concern your 
 
 safety " 
 
 " We will think. Amy, of some other retreat,'' said Leices- 
 ter; " and you shall go to one of my northern castles, under 
 the personage — it will be but needful, I trust, for a very few 
 days — of Vamey's wife." 
 
 " How, my Lord of Leicester! " said the lady, disengaging 
 herself from his embraces; "is it to your wife you give the 
 dishonorable counsel to acknowledge herself the bride of 
 another — and of all men, the bride of that Vamey? " 
 
 "Madam, I speak it in earnest. Vamey is my true and 
 faithful servant, trusted in my deepest secrets. I had better 
 lose my right hand than his service at this moment. You 
 have no cause to scorn him as you do." 
 
 " I could assign one, my lord," replied th-e countess; " and 
 I see he shakes even under that assured look of his. But he 
 that is necessary as your right hand to your safety is free 
 from any accusation of mine. May he be true to you; and 
 that he may be true, trust him not too much or too far. But 
 it is enough to say, that I will not go with him unless by 
 violence, nor would I acknowledge him as my husband were 
 
 all " 
 
 " It is a temporary deception, madam," said Leicester, irri- 
 tated by her opposition, "necessary for both our safeties, 
 endangered by you through female caprice, or the premature 
 desire to seize on a rank to which I gave you title only under 
 condition that our marriage, for a time, should continue 
 secret. If my proposal disgust you, it is yourself has brought 
 it on both of us. There is no other remedy: you must do 
 what your own impatient folly hath rendered necessary — I 
 command you." 
 
 " I cannot put your commands, my lord," said Amy, " in 
 balance with those of honor and conscience. I will not, 
 in this instance, obey you. You may achieve your own dis- 
 honor, to which these crooked policies naturally tend; but 
 I will do naught that can blemish mine. How could you 
 again, my lord, acknowledge me as a pure and chaste 
 matron, worthy to share your fortunes, when, holding: that 
 high character, I had strolled the country the acknowledged 
 wife of such a profligate fellow as your servant Vamey? " 
 "My lord." said Vamey, interposing, "my lady is toe 
 
878 WAVEBLEY NOVELS, 
 
 much prejudiced against me, unhappily, to listen to what I 
 caQ offer; yet it may please her better thaa what she pro- 
 poses. She has good interest with Master Edmund Tres- 
 silian, and could doubtless prevail on him to consent to be 
 her companion to Lidcote Hall, and there she might remain 
 in safety until time permitted the development of this 
 mystery.'^ 
 
 Leicester was silent, but stood looking eagerly on Amy, 
 with eyes which seemed suddenly to glow as much with sus^ 
 picion as displeasure. 
 
 The countess only said, " Would to Grod I were in my 
 father's house! When I left it, I little thought I was leav- 
 ing peace of mind and honor behind me." 
 
 Vamey proceeded with a tone of deliberation. " Doubt- 
 less this will make it necessary to take strangers into my 
 lord's counsels; but surely the countess will be warrant for 
 the honor of Master Tressilian and such of her father's 
 family '' 
 
 " Peace, Vam«y," said Leicester; " by Heaven I will strike 
 my dagger into thee, if again thou namest Tressilian as a 
 partner of my counsels! " 
 
 " And wherefore not? " said the countess; " unless they 
 be counsels fitter for such as Vamey than for a man of stain- 
 less honor and integrity. My lord — my lord, bend no angry 
 brows on me; it is the truth, and it is I who speak it. I 
 once did Tressilian wrong for your sake; I will not do him 
 the further injustice of being silent when his honor is brought 
 in question. I can forbear," she said, looking at Vamey, 
 " to pull the mask off hypocrisy, but I will not permit virtue 
 to be slandered in my hearing." 
 
 There was a dead pause. Leicester stood displeased, yet 
 undetermined, and too conscious of the weakness of his 
 cause; while Vamey, with a deep and hjrpocritical affectation 
 of sorrow, mingled with humility, bent his eyes on the 
 ground. 
 
 It was then that the Countess Amy displayed, in the midst 
 of distress and difficulty, the natural ener^ of character 
 which would have rendered her, had fate allowed, a distin- 
 guished ornament of the rank which she held. She walked 
 up to Leicester with a composed step, a dignified air, and 
 looks in which strong affection essayed in vain to shake the 
 firmness of conscious tmth and rectitude of principle. " You 
 have spoke your mind, my lord." she said, "in these diffi- 
 culties, with which, unhappily, I have found myself unable 
 
KENILWORTH. 370 
 
 to comply. This gentleman — this person, I would say- — has 
 hinted at another scheme, to which I object not but as it dis- 
 pleases you. Will your lordship be pleased to hear what a 
 young and timid woman, but your most affectionate wife, can 
 suggest in the present extremity ? " 
 
 Leicester was silent, but bent his head toward the countess, 
 as an intimation that she was at liberty to proeeed. 
 
 " There hath been but one cause for all these evils, my 
 lord,'' she proceeded, " and it resolves itself into the mysteri- 
 ous duplicity with which you have been induced to surround 
 yourself. Extricate yourself at once, my lord, from the 
 tyranny of these disgraceful trammels. Be like a true Eng- 
 lish gentleman, knight, and earl, who holds that truth is the 
 foundation of honor, and that honor is dear to him as the 
 breath of his nostrils. Take your ill-fated wife by the hand; 
 lead her to the footstool of Elizabeth's throne; say that, ^ In 
 a moment of infatuation, moved by supposed beauty, of which 
 none perhaps can now trace even the remains, I gave my 
 hand to this Amy Eobsart.' You will then have done justice 
 to me, my lord, and to your own honor; and should law or 
 power require you to part from me, I will oppose no objec- 
 tion, since I may then with honor hide a grieved and broken 
 heart in those shades from which your love withdrew me. 
 Then — have but a little patience, and Amy's life will not 
 long darken your brighter prospects." 
 
 There was so much of dignity, so much of tenderness, in 
 the countess' remonstrance that it moved all that was noble 
 and generous in the soul of her husband. The scales seemed 
 to fall from his eyes, and the duplicity and tergiversation of 
 which he had been guilty stung him at once with remorse and 
 shame. 
 
 "I am not worthy of you, Amy," he said, ^Hhat could 
 weigh aught which ambition has to give against such a heart 
 as thine! I have a bitter penance to perform, in disen- 
 tangling, before sneering foes and astounded friends, all the 
 meshes of my own deceitful policy. And the Queen — but let 
 her take my head, as she has threatened." 
 
 "Your head, my lord!" said the countess; "because you 
 used the freedom and liberty of an English subject in choos- 
 ing a wife? For shame; it is this distrust of the Queen's 
 justice, this apprehension of danger, which cannot but be 
 imaginary, that, like scarecrows, have induced you to forsake 
 the straightforward path, which, as it is the best, is also the 
 safest." 
 
880 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 " Ah, Amy, thou little knowest! " said Dudley; but, in- 
 stantly checking himself, he added, " Yet she shall not find 
 in me a safe or easy victim of arbitrary vengeance. I have 
 friends — I have allies — I will not, like Norfolk, be dragged 
 to the block as a victim to sacrifice. Fear not. Amy; thou 
 shalt see Dudley bear himself worthy of his name. I must 
 instantly communicate with some of those friends on whom 
 I can best rely; for, as things stand, I may be made prisoner 
 in my own castle.'^ 
 
 " Oh, my good lord," said Amy, " make no faction in a 
 peaceful state! There is no friend can help us so well as our 
 own candid truth and honor. Bring but these to our assist- 
 ance, and you are safe amidst a whole army of the envious 
 and malignant. Leave these behind you, and all other 
 defense will be fruitless. Truth, my noble lord, is well 
 painted unarmed." 
 
 " But wisdom, Amy," answered Leicester, " is arrayed in 
 panoply of proof. Argue not with me on the means I shall 
 use to render my confession — since it must be called so — as 
 safe as may be; it will be fraught with enough of danger, do 
 what we will. Vamey, we must hence. Farewell, Amy, 
 whom I am to vindicate as mine own at an expense and risk 
 of which thou alone eouldst be worthy! You shall soon hear 
 farther from me." 
 
 He embraced her fervently, muffled himself as before, and 
 accompanied Vamey from the apartment. The latter, as he 
 left the room, bowed low, and, as he raised his body, re- 
 garded Amy with a peculiar expression, as if he desired to 
 know how far his own pardon was included in the reconcilia- 
 tion which had taken place betwixt her and her lord. The 
 countess looked upon him with a fixed eye, but seemed no 
 more conscious of his presence than if there had been nothing 
 but vacant air on the spot where he stood. 
 
 '^ She has brought me to the crisis," he muttered. " She 
 or I are lost. There was something — I wot not if it was fear 
 or pity — that prompted me to avoid this fatal crisis. It is 
 now decided. She or I must perish." 
 
 While he thus spoke, he observed, with surprise, that a 
 boy, repulsed by the sentinel, made up to Leicester and spoke 
 with him. Yamey was one of those politicians whom not 
 the slightest appearances escape without inquiry. He asked 
 the sentinel what the lad wanted with him, and received for 
 answer, that the boy had wished him to transmit a parcel 
 to the mad lady, but that he cared not to take charge of it, 
 
iuch communication being beyond his commission. His 
 curiosity satisfied in that particular, he approached his patron, 
 and heard him say, " Well, boy, the packet shall be delivered/' 
 
 "Thanks, good Master Serving-man,'' said the boy, and 
 was out of sight in an instant. 
 
 Leicester and Yamey returned with hasty steps to the earl's 
 private apartment by the same passage which had conducted 
 them to Saintlowe's Tower. 
 
CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 I have said 
 This is an adulteress, I have said with whom-' 
 More, she's a traitor, and Camillo is 
 ' A federary with her, and one that knows 
 
 What she should shame to know herself 
 
 — Winter's Tale, 
 
 They were no sooner in the earl's cabinet than, taJdng his 
 tablets from his pocket, he began to write, speaking partly 
 to Vamey and partly to himself: " There are many of them 
 close bounden to me, and especially those in good estate and 
 high office; many who, if they look back toward my benefits, 
 or forward toward the perils which may befall themselves, 
 will not, I think, be disposed to see me stagger unsupported. 
 Let me see — Knollis is sure, and through his meanfi Guernsey 
 and Jersey. Horsey commands in the Isle of Wight. My 
 brother-in-law, Huntingdon, and Pembroke have authority in 
 Wales. Through Bedford I lead the Puritans, with their 
 interest, so powerful in all the boroughs. My brother of 
 Warwick is equal, well-nigh, to myself in wealth, followers, 
 and dependencies. Sir Owen Hopton is at my devotion; be 
 commands the Tower of London, and the national treasure 
 deposited there. My father and grandfather needed never 
 to have stooped their heads to the block had they thus fore- 
 cast their enterprises. Why look you so sad, Vamey? I 
 tell thee, a tree so deep-rooted is not easily to be torn up by 
 the tempest." 
 
 "Alas! my lord," said Vamey, with well-acted passion, 
 and then resumed the same look of despondency which 
 Leicester had before noted. 
 
 " Alas! " repeated Leicester, " and wherefore alas. Sir 
 Eichard? Doth your new spirit of chivalry supply no more 
 vigorous ejaculation when a noble struggle is impending? 
 Or, if ' alas ' means thou wilt flinch from the conflict, thou 
 mayst leave the castle, or go join mine enemies, whichever 
 thou thinkest best." 
 
 '' Not so, my lord," answered his confidant; " Vamey will 
 be found fighting or dying by your side. Forgive me if, in 
 love to you, I see more fully than your noble heart permits 
 you to do the inextricable difficulties with which you are tur- 
 
KENILWOBTB. 383 
 
 rounded. You are strong, my lord, and powerful; yet, let me 
 say it without oft'ense, you are so only by the reflected light 
 of the Queen's favor. While you are Elizabeth's favorite you 
 are all, save in name, like an actual sovereign. But let hear 
 call back the honors she has bestowed, and the prophet's 
 gourd did not wither more suddenly. Declare against the 
 Queen, and I do not say that in the wide nation, or in this 
 province alone, you would find yourself instantly deserted 
 and outnumbered; but I will say, that even in this very- 
 castle, and in the midst of your vassals, kinsmen, and de- 
 pendents, you would be a captive, nay, a sentenced 
 captive, should she please to say the word. Think upon 
 Norfolk, my lord — upon the powerful Northumberland — the 
 splendid Westmoreland — think on all who have made head 
 against this sage princess. They are dead, captive, or fugi- 
 tive. This is not like other thrones, which can be overturned 
 by a combination of powerful nobles: the broad foundations 
 which support it are in the extended love and affections of the 
 people. You might share it with Elizabeth, if you would; 
 but neither yours nor any other power, foreign or domestic, 
 will avail to overthrow or even to shake it.'' 
 
 He paused, and Leicester threw his tablets from him with 
 an air of reckless despite. "It may be as thou say'st," he 
 said; " and, in sooth, I care not whether truth or cowardice 
 dictate thy forebodings. But it shall not be said I fell with- 
 out a struggle. Give orders that those of my retainers who 
 served under me in Ireland be gradually drawn into the main 
 keep, and let our gentlemen and friends stand on their 
 guard, and go armed, as if they expected an onset from the 
 followers of Sussex. Possess the townspeople with some ap- 
 prehension; let them take arms and be ready, at a signal 
 given, to overpower the pensioners and yeomen of the 
 guard." 
 
 " Let me remind you, my lord," said Yarney, with the same 
 appearance of deep and melancholy interest, " that you have 
 given me orders to prepare for disarming the Queen's guard. 
 It is an act of high treason, but you shall nevertheless be 
 obeyed." 
 
 "I care not," said Leicester, desperately — "I care not. 
 Shame is behind me, ruin before me; I must on." 
 
 Here there was another pause, which Yarney at length 
 broke with the following words — "It is come to the point 
 I have long dreaded. I must either witness, like an ungrate- 
 ful beast^ the downfall of the best and kindest of masteirs^ 
 
884 WA VEBLET NO VELS. 
 
 or I must speak what I would have buried in the deepest 
 oblivion, or told by any other mouth than mine." 
 
 " What is that thou sayst, or wouldst say ? " replied the 
 earl; " we have no time to waste on words, when the time 
 calls us to action." 
 
 " My speech is soon made, my lord — would to God it were 
 as soon answered! Your marriage is the sole cause of the 
 threatened breach with your sovereign, my lord, is it not? " 
 
 " Thou knowest it is! " replied Leicester. " What needjs 
 80 fruitless a question? " 
 
 "Pardon me, my lord," said Vamey; "the use lies here. 
 Men will wager their lands and lives in defense of a rich 
 diamond, my lord; but were it not first prudent to look if 
 there is no flaw in it ? " 
 
 " What means this? " said Leicester, with eyes sternly 
 fixed on his dependent: " of whom dost thou dare to 
 speak?" 
 
 " It is — of the Countess Amy, my lord, of whom I am 
 unhappily bound to speak; and of whom I will speak, were 
 your lordship to kill mc for my zeal." 
 
 " Thou mayst happen to deserve it at my hand," said the 
 eari; " but speak on, I will hear thee." 
 
 " Nay, then, my lord, I will be bold. I speak for my own 
 life as well as for your lordship's. I like not this lady's tam- 
 pering and trickstering with this same Edmund Tressilian. 
 You know him, my lord. You know he had formerly an 
 interest in her, which it cost your lordship some pains to 
 supersede. You know the eagerness with which he has prised 
 on the suit against me in behalf of this lady, the open ol^ject 
 of which is to drive your lordship to an avowal of what I 
 must ever call your most unhappy marriage, the point to 
 which my lady also is will! ig, at any risk, to urge you." 
 
 Leicester smiled constrainedly. " Thou meanest well, good 
 Sir Eichard, and wouldst, I think, sacrifice thine own honor, 
 as well as that of any other person, to save me from what 
 thou think'st a step so terrible. But remember " — he spoke 
 these words with the most stem decision — " you speak of the 
 Countess of Leicester." 
 
 " I do, my lord," said Vamey; " but it is for the welfare of 
 the Earl of Leicester. My tale is but begun. I do most 
 strongly believe that this Tressilian has, from the beginning 
 of his moving in her cause, been in connivance with her lady- 
 ship the countess." 
 
 " Thou apeak'st wild madneaa, Vamey, with the sober face 
 
KENILWORTH. 385 
 
 of a preacher. Where or how could they commimicate 
 together? " 
 
 " My lord/' said Vamey, " unfortunately I can show that 
 but too well. It was just before the supplication was pre- 
 sented to the Queen, in Tressilian's name, that I met him, 
 to my utter astonishment, at the postern gate which leads 
 from the demesne at Cumnor Place/' 
 
 " Thou met'st him, villain! and why didst thou not strike 
 him dead?'' exclaimed Leicester. 
 
 " I drew on him, my lord, and he on me; and had not my 
 foot slipped, he would not, perhaps, have been again a stum- 
 bling-block in your lordship's path." 
 
 Leicester seemed struck dumb with surprise. At length 
 he answered, "What other evidence hast thou of this, Var- 
 ney, save thine own assertion? for, as I will punish deeply, 
 I will examine coolly and warily. Sacred Heaven! but no 
 — I will examine coldly and warily — coldly and warily." He 
 repeated these words more than once to himself, as if in the 
 very sound there was a sedative quality; and again compress- 
 ing his lips, as if he feared some violent expression might 
 escape from them, he asked again, " What farther proof? " 
 
 " Enough, my lord," said Vamey, " and to spare. I would 
 it rested with me alone, for with me it might have been 
 silenced forever. But my servant, Michael Lamboume, wit- 
 nessed the whole, and was, indeed, the means of first intro- 
 ducing Tressilian into Cumnor Place; and therefore I took 
 him into my service, and retained him in it, though something 
 of a debauched fellow, that I might have his tongue always 
 under my own command." He then acquainted Lord Leices- 
 ter how easy it was to prove the circumstance of their inter- 
 view true, by evidence of Anthony Foster, with the cor- 
 roborative testimonies of the various persons at Cumnor, 
 who had heard the wager laid, and had seen Lamboume and 
 Tressilian set off together. In the whole narrative, Vamey 
 hazarded nothing fabulous, excepting that, not indeed by 
 direct assertion, but by inference, he led his patron to sup- 
 pose that the interview betwixt Amy and Tressilian at Cum- 
 nor Place had been longer than the few minutes to which it 
 was in reality limited. 
 
 " And wherefore was I not told of all this? " said Leicester, 
 sternly. "Why did all of ye — and in particular thou, Var- 
 ney — keep back from me such material information? " 
 
 "Because, my lord," replied Vamey, "the countess pre- 
 tended to Foster and to me that Tressilian. had intruded him" 
 
8e« WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 self upon her; and I concluded their interview had heen in 
 all honor, and that she would at her own time tell it to your 
 lordship. Your lordship knows with what unwilling ears we 
 listen to evil surmises against those whom we love; and I 
 thank Heaven I am no make-bate or informer, to be the first 
 to sow them." 
 
 " You are but too ready to receive them, however. Sir 
 Eichard," replied his patron. " How know'st thou that this 
 interview was not in all honor, as thou hast said? Methinks 
 the wife of the Earl of Leicester might speak for a short 
 time with such a person as Tressilian without injury to me 
 or suspicion to herself." 
 
 " Questionless, my lord," answered Vamey; " had I 
 thought otherwise, I had been no keeper of the secret. But 
 here lies the rub^Tressilian leaves not the place without 
 establishing a correspondence with a poor man, the landlord 
 of an inn in Cumnor, for the purpose of canying off the lady. 
 He sent down an emissary of his, whom I trust soon to have 
 in right sure keeping under Mervyn's Tower. Killigrew and 
 Lambsbey are scouring the country in quest of him. The host 
 is rewarded with a ring for keeping counsel; your lordship 
 may have noted it on Tressilian^s hand — here it is. This 
 fellow, this agent, makes his way to the Place as a peddler, 
 holds conference with the lady, and they make their escape 
 together by night; rob a poor fellow of a horse by the way, 
 such was their guilty haste; and at length reach this castle, 
 where the Countess of Leicester finds refuge — I dare not say 
 in what place." 
 
 " Speak, I command thee," said Leicester — " speak, while 
 I retain sense enough to hear thee." 
 
 " Since it must be so," answered Vamey, " the lady re- 
 sorted immediately to the apartment of Tressilian, where she 
 remained many hours, partly in company with him and partly 
 alone. I told you Tressilian had a paramour in his chamber. 
 I little dreamed that paramour was " 
 
 " Amy, thou wouldst say," answered Leicester; " but it is 
 false — false as the smoke of hell! Ambitious she may be — 
 fickle and impatient — 'tis a woman's fault; but false to me! 
 never, never! The proof — the proof of this! " he exclaimed, 
 
 " Carrol, the deputy-marshal, ushered her thither by her 
 own desire on yesterday afternoon; Lamboume and the war- 
 der both found her there at an early hour this morning." 
 
 "Was Tressilian there with her?" said Leicester in the 
 eame hurried tone. 
 
KENILWORTH, 387 
 
 "No, my lord. You may remember," answered Varney, 
 *'that he was that night placed with Sir Nicholas Blount, 
 under a species of arrest." 
 
 " Did Carrol, or the other fellows, know who she was? " 
 demanded Leicester. 
 
 " No, my lord," replied Varney. " Carrol and the warder 
 had never seen the countess, and Lambourne knew her not in 
 her disguise; but, in seeking to prevent her leaving the cell, 
 he obtained possession of one of her gloves, which, I think, 
 your lordship may know." 
 
 He gave the glove, which had the bear and ragged staff, the 
 earFs impress, embroidered upon it in seed-pearls. 
 
 " I do — I do recognize it," said Leicester. " They were 
 my own gift. The fellow of it was on the arm which she 
 threw this very day around my neck! " He spoke this with 
 violent agitation. 
 
 "Your lordship," said Varney, "might yet further in- 
 quire of the lady herself respecting the truth of these pase- 
 
 " It needs not — it needs not," said the tortured earl: " it is 
 written in characters of burning light, as if they were branded 
 on my very eyeballs! I see her infamy — I can see naught 
 else; and — gracious Heaven! — for this vile woman was I 
 about to commit to danger the lives of so many noble friends 
 — shake the foundation of a lawful throne — carry the sword 
 and torch through the bosom of a peaceful land — wrong the 
 kind mistress who made me what I am, and would, but for 
 that hell-framed marriage, have made me all that man can 
 be! All this I was ready to do for a woman who trinkets and 
 traffics with my worst foes! And thou, villain, why didst 
 thou not speak sooner? " 
 
 " My lord," said Varney, " a tear from my lady would have 
 blotted out all I could have said. Besides, I had not these 
 proofs until this very morning, when Anthony Foster's sud- 
 den arrival, with the examinations and declarations which he 
 had extorted from the innkeeper Grosling and others, ex- 
 plained the manner of her flight from Cumnor Place, and my 
 own researches discovered the steps which she had taken 
 here." 
 
 " Now, may God be praised for the light He has given! so 
 full, so saiisfactor}% that there breathes not a man in Eng- 
 land who shall call my proceeding rash or my revenge un- 
 just. And yet, Varney, so young, so fair, so fawning, and so 
 false! Hence, then, her hatred to thee, my trusty, my well- 
 
888 WA VJSRLET NO VJSLS. 
 
 beloved servant, because you withstood her plots and endan- 
 gered her paramour's life! " 
 
 "I never gave her any other cause of dislike, my lord," 
 replied Varney; "but she knew that my counsels went di- 
 rectly to diminish her influence with your lordship, and that 
 I was, and have been, ever ready to peril my life against your 
 enemies/' 
 
 " It is too, too apparent," replied Leicester; " yet, with 
 what an air of magnanimity she exhorted me to commit my 
 head to the Queen's mercy rather than wear the veil of false- 
 hood a moment longer! Methinks the angel of truth himself 
 can have no such tones of high-souled impulse. Can it be 
 so, Varney? Can falsehood use thus boldly the language of 
 truth? Can infamy thus assume the guise of purity? Var- 
 ney, thou hast been my servant from a child; I have raised 
 thee high — can raise thee higher. Think — ^think for me! 
 Thy brain was ever shrewd and piercing. May she not be 
 innocent? Prove her so, and all I have yet done for thee 
 shall be as nothing — nothing — ^in comparison of thy recom- 
 pense! " 
 
 The agony with which his master spoke had some effect 
 even on the hardened Varney, who, in the midst of his own 
 wicked and ambitious designs, really loved his patron as well 
 as such a wretch was capable of loving anything; but he 
 comforted himself, and subdued his self-reproaches, with the 
 reflection that, if he inflicted upon the earl some immediate 
 and transitory pain, it was in order to pave his way to the 
 throne, which, were this marriage dissolved by death or other- 
 wise, he deemed Elizabeth would willingly share with his bene- 
 factor. He therefore persevered in his diabolical policy; and, 
 after a moment's consideration, answered the anxious queries 
 of the earl with a melancholy look, as if he had in vain sought 
 some exculpation for the countess; then suddenly raising his 
 head, he said, with an expression of hope, which instantly 
 communicated itself to the countenance of his patron — " Yet 
 wherefore, if guilty, should she have periled herself by com- 
 ing hither? Why not rather have fled to her father's or else- 
 where? — though that, indeed, might have interfered with her 
 desire to be acknowledged as Countess of Leicester." 
 
 " True — true — true! " exclaimed Leicester, his transient 
 gleam of hope giving way to the utmost bitterness of feeling 
 and expression; " thou art not fit to fathom a woman's depth 
 of wit, Varney. I see it all. She would not quit the estate 
 and title of the witto-1 who had wedded her. Aye, and if in 
 
KENILWORTH. 889 
 
 my madness I had started into rebellion, or if the angry 
 Queen had taken my head, as she this morning threatened, 
 the wealthy dower which law would have assigned to the 
 Countess Dowager of Leicester had been no bad windfall to 
 the beggarly Tressilian. Well might she goad me on to dan- 
 ger, which could not end otherwise than profitably to her. 
 Speak not for her, Vamey; I will have her blood! " 
 
 " My lord," replied Vaxney, " the wildness of your distress 
 breaks forth in the wildness of your language." 
 
 " I say, speak not for her," replied Leicester; " she has dis- 
 honored me — she would have murdered me; all ties are burst 
 between us. She shall die the death of a traitress and adul- 
 teress, well merited both by the laws of God and man! And 
 — what is this casket," he said, " which was even now thrust 
 into my hand by a boy, with the desire I would convey it to 
 Tressilian, as he could not give it to the countess? By 
 Heaven! the words surprised me as he spoke them, though 
 other matters chased them from my brain; but now they re- 
 turn with double force. It is her casket of jewels! Force it 
 open, Vamey — force the hinges open with thy poniard." 
 
 " She refused the aid of my dagger once," thought Var- 
 ney, as he unsheathed the weapon, " to cut the string which 
 bound a letter, but now it shall work a mightier ministry in 
 her fortunes." 
 
 With this reflection, by using the three-cornered stiletto- 
 blade as a wedge, he forced open the slender silver hinges of 
 the casket. The Earl no sooner saw them give way than he 
 snatched the casket from Sir Eichard's hand, wrenched off 
 the cover, and tearing out the splendid contents, flung them 
 on the floor in a transport of rage, while he eagerly searched 
 for some letter or billet which should make the fancied guilt 
 of his innocent countess yet more apparent. Then stamp- 
 ing furiously on the gems, he exclaimed, " Thus I annihi- 
 late the miserable toys for which thou hast sold thyself, body 
 and soul, consigned thyself to an early and timeless death, 
 and me to misery and remorse forever! Tell me not of for- 
 giveness, Vamey. She is doomed! " 
 
 So saying, he left the room, and rushed into an adjacent 
 closet, the door of which he locked and bolted. 
 
 Vamey looked after him, while something of a more human 
 feeling seemed to contend with his habitual sneer. " I am 
 sorry for his weakness," he said, " but love has made him a 
 child. He throws down and treads on these costly toys; with 
 the same vehemence would he dash to pieces this frailest toy 
 
390 WAVSBLET NOVELS. 
 
 of all, of which he used to rave so fondly. But that taste 
 also will be forgotten when its object is no more. Well, he 
 has no eye to value things as they deserve, and that nature 
 has given to Varney. When Leicester shall be a sovereign, 
 he will think as little of the gales of passion through which 
 he gained that royal port as ever did sailor in harbor of the 
 perils of a voyage. But these tell-tale articles must not re- 
 main here: they are rather too rich vails for the drudges who 
 drees the chamber." 
 
 While Varney was employed in gathering together and 
 putting them into a secret drawer of a cabinet that chanced 
 to be unlocked, he saw the door of Leicester's closet open, the 
 tapestry pushed aside, and the earl's face thrust out, but with 
 eyes so dead, and lips and cheeks so bloodless and pale, that 
 he started at the sudden change. No sooner did his eyes en- 
 counter the earl's than the latter withdrew his head and shut 
 the door of the closet. This maneuver Leicester repeated 
 twice, without speaking a word, so that Varney began to 
 doubt whether his brain was not actually affected by his men- 
 tal agony. The third time, however, he beckoned, and Var- 
 ney obeyed the signal. When he entered, he soon found his 
 patron's perturbation was not caused by insanity, but by the 
 fellness of purpose which he entertained contending with 
 various contrary passions. They passed a full hour in close 
 consultation; after which the Earl of Leicester, with an in- 
 credible exertion, dressed himself and went to attend his 
 royal gu€«t. 
 
CHAPTEE XXXVII. 
 
 You have displaced the mirth, broke the good meeting 
 With most admired disorder, 
 
 — Macbeth. 
 
 It was afterward remembered that, during the banquets and 
 revels which occupied the remainder of this eventful day, the 
 bearings of Leicester and of Varney were totally different from 
 their usual demeanor. Sir Eichard Varney had been held 
 rather a man of counsel and of action than a votary of pleas- 
 ure. Business, whether civil or military, seemed always to 
 be his proper sphere; and while in festivals and revels, al- 
 though he well understood how to trick them up and present 
 them, his own part was that of a mere spectator; or, if he 
 exercised his wit, it was in a rough, caustic, and severe man- 
 ner, rather as if he scoffed at the exhibition and the guests 
 than shared the common pleasure. 
 
 But upon the present day his character seemed changed. 
 He mixed among the younger courtiers and ladies, and ap- 
 peared for the moment to be actuated by a spirit of light- 
 hearted gayety which rendered him a match for the liveliest. 
 Those who had looked upon him as a man given up to graver 
 and more ambitious pursuits, a bitter sneerer and passer of sar- 
 casms at the expense of those who, taking life as they find it, 
 were disposed to snatch at each pastime it presents, now per- 
 ceived with astonishment that his wit could carry as smooth an 
 edge as their own, his laugh be as lively, and his brow as un- 
 clouded. By what art of damnable hypocrisy he could draw 
 this veil of gayety over the black thoughts of one of the worst 
 of human bosoms must remain unintelligible to all but his 
 compeers, if any such ever existed; but he was a man of 
 extraordinary powers, and those powers were unhappily dedi- 
 cated in all their energy to the very worst of purposes. 
 
 It was entirely different with Leicester. However habitu- 
 ated his mind usually was to play the part of a good courtier, 
 and appear gay, assiduous, and free from all care but that of 
 enhancing the pleasure of the moment, while his bosom in- 
 ternally throbbed with the pangs of unsatisfied ambition, jeal- 
 ousy, or resentment, his heart had now a yet more dreadful 
 gueet, whose workings could not be overshadowed or sup- 
 
892 WA VERLET NO VEL8. 
 
 pressed; and you might read in his vacant eye and trouble^ 
 brow that his thoughts were far absent from the scenes in 
 which he was compelhng himself to play a part. H© looked, 
 moved, and spoke as if by a succession of continued efforts; 
 and it seemed as if his will had in some degree lost the 
 promptitude of command over the acute mind and goodly 
 form of which it was the regent. His actions and gestures, 
 instead of appearing the consequence of simple volition, 
 seemed, like those of an automaton, to wait the revolution of 
 some internal machinery ere they could be performed; and 
 his words fell from him piecemeal, interrupted, as if he had 
 first to think what he was to say, then how it was to be said, 
 and as if, after all, it was only by an effort of continued 
 attention that he completed a sentence without forgetting 
 both the one and the other. 
 
 The singular effects which these distractions of mind pro- 
 duced upon the behavior and conversation of the most ac- 
 complished courtier of England, as they were visible to the 
 lowest and dullest menial who approached his person, could 
 not escape the notice of the most intelligent princess of the 
 age. Nor is there the least doubt that the alternate negli- 
 gence and irregularity of his manner would have called down 
 Elizabeth's severe displeasure on the Earl of Leicester, had 
 it not occurred to her to account for it by supposing that the 
 apprehension of that displeasure which she had expressed to- 
 ward him with such vivacity that very morning was dwelling 
 upon the spirits of her favorite, and, spite of his efforts to the 
 contrary, distracted the usual graceful tenor of his mien and 
 the charms of his conversation. When this idea, so flattering 
 to female vanity, had once obtained possession of her mind, it 
 proved a full and satisfactory apology for the numerous errors 
 and mistakes of the Earl of Leicester; and the watchful circle 
 around observed with astonishment that, instead of resenting 
 his repeated negligence and want of even ordinary attention, 
 although these were points on which she was usually ex- 
 tremely punctilious, the Queen sought, on the contrary, to 
 afford him time and means to recollect himself, and deigned 
 to assist him in doing so, with an indulgence which seemed 
 altogether inconsistent with her usual character. It was 
 clear, however, that this could not last much longer, and that 
 Elizabeth must finally put another and more severe construc- 
 tion on Leicester's uncourteous conduct, when the earl was 
 summoned by Yamev to speak with him in a different apart- 
 ment. 
 
KENILWORTH, 893 
 
 After having had the message twice delivered to him, he 
 rose, and was about to withdraw, as it were, by instinct; then 
 stopped, and, turning round, entreated permission of the 
 Queen to absent himself for a brief space upon matters of 
 pressing importance. 
 
 " Go, my lord," said the Queen; " we are aware our pres- 
 ence must occasion sudden and unexpected occurrences, which 
 require to be provided for on the instant. Yet, my lord, as 
 you would have us believe ourself your welcome and honored 
 guest, we entreat you to think less of our good cheer, and 
 favor us with more of your good countenance than we have 
 this day enjoyed; for, whether prince or peasant be the guest, 
 the welcome of the host will always be the better part of the 
 entertainment. Go, my lord; and we trust to see you return 
 with an unwrinkled brow and those free thoughts which you 
 are wont to have at the disposal of your friends." 
 
 Leicester only bowed low in answer to this rebuke, and re- 
 tired. At the door of the apartment he was met by Varney, 
 who eagerly drew him apart, and whispered in his ear, " All 
 is well! " 
 
 " Has Masters seen her? " said the earl. 
 
 '*He has, my lord; and as she would neither answer his 
 queries nor allege any reason for her refusal, he will give full 
 testimony that she labors under mental disorder, and may be 
 best committed to the charge of her friends. The opportu- 
 nity is therefore free to remove her as we proposed." 
 
 *^But Tressilian?" said Leicester. 
 
 '* He will not know of her departure for some time," replied 
 Varney; " it shall take place this very evening, and to-mor- 
 row he shall be cared for." 
 
 *' No, by my soul," answered Leicester; " I will take ven- 
 geance on him with mine own hand! " 
 
 "You, my lord, and on so inconsiderable a man as Tres- 
 silian! No, my lord, he hath long wished to visit foreign 
 parts. Trust him to me: I will take care he returns not 
 hither to tell tales." 
 
 ** Not so, by Heaven, Varney! " exclaimed Leicester. '' In- 
 considerable do you call an enemy that hath had power to 
 wound me so deeply that my whole after life must be one 
 scene of remorse and misery? No; rather than forego the 
 right of doing myself justice with my own hand on that ac- 
 cursed villain, I will unfold the whole truth at Elizabeth's 
 footstool, and let her vehgeance descend at once Qn them and 
 on myself." 
 
394 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 Vamey saw with great alarm that his lord was wrought up 
 to such a pitch of agitation that, if he gave not way to him, he 
 was perfectly capable of adopting the desperate resolution 
 which he had announced, and which was instant ruin to all 
 the schemes of ambition which Vamey had formed for his 
 patron and himself. But the earFs rage seemed at once un- 
 controllable and deeply concentrated; and while he spoke his 
 rves shot fire, his voice trembled with excess of passion, and 
 the light foam stood on his lip. 
 
 His confidant made a bold and successful effort to obtain 
 the mastery of him even in this hour of emotion. " My lord,'' 
 he said, leading him to a mirror, " behold your reflection in 
 that glass, and think if these agitated features belong to one 
 who, in a condition so extreme, is capable of forming a reso- 
 lution for himself." 
 
 "What, then, wouldst thou make me?" said Leicester, 
 struck at the change in his own physiognomy, though 
 offended at the freedom with which Vamey made the appeal. 
 " Am I to be thy ward, thy vassal — the property and subject 
 of my servant?" 
 
 " JSTo, my lord," said Vaxney firmly, " but be master of your- 
 self and of your own passion. My lord, I, your born servant, 
 am ashamed to see how poorly you bear yourself in the storm 
 of fury. Go to Elizabeth's feet, confess your marriage, im- 
 peach your wife and her paramour of adultery, and avow your- 
 self, amongst all your peers, the wittol who married a country 
 girl, and was cozened by her and her book-learned gallant. 
 Go, my lord; but first take farewell of Richard Vamey, with 
 all the benefits you ever conferred on him. He served the 
 noble, the lofty, the high-minded Leicester, and was more 
 proud of depending on him than he would.be of command- 
 ing thousands. But the abject lord who stoops to every ad- 
 verse circumstance, whose judicious resolves are scattered like 
 chaff before every wind of passion, him Eichard Varney serves 
 not. He is as much above him in constancy of mind as be- 
 neath him in rank and fortune." 
 
 Vamey spoke thus without hypocrisy, for, though the firm- 
 ness of mind which he boasted was hardness and impenetra- 
 bility, yet he really felt the ascendency which he vaunted; 
 while the interest which he actually felt in the fortunes of 
 Leicester gave unusual emotion to his voice and manner. 
 
 Leicester was overpowered by his assumed superiority; it 
 seemed to the unfortunate earl as if his last friend was about 
 to abandon him. He stretched his hand toward Varney as 
 
KENtLWOnTH, 305 
 
 he uttered the words, " Do not leave me. What wouldst thou 
 have me do ? " 
 
 " Be thyself, my nohle master," said Varney, touching the 
 earl's hand with his lips, after having respectfully grasped it 
 in his own — " be yourself, superior to those storms of passion 
 which wreck inferior minds. Are you the first who has been 
 cozened in love? The first whom a vain and licentious 
 woman has cheated into an affection which she has afterward 
 scorned and misused? And will you suffer yourself to be 
 driven frantic, because you have not been wiser than the 
 wisest men whom the world has seen? Let her be as if she 
 had not been — let her pas® from your memory as unworthy of 
 ever having held a place there. Let your strong resolve of 
 this morning, which I have both courage, zeal, and means 
 enough to execute, be like the fiat of a superior being, a pas- 
 sionless act of justice. She hath deserved death — let her 
 die!'' 
 
 While he was speaking, the earl held his hand fast, com- 
 pressed his lips hard, and frowned, as if he labored to catch 
 from Varney a portion of the cold, ruthless, and dispassionate 
 firmness which he recommended. When he was silent, the 
 earl still continued to grasp his hand, until, with an effort at 
 calm decision, he was able to articulate, " Be it so — she dies! 
 But one tear might be permitted." 
 
 " Not one, my lord," interrupted Varney, who saw by the 
 quivering eye and convulsed cheek of his patron that he was 
 about to give way to a burst of emotion, " not a tear — the time 
 permits it not. Tressilian must be thought of " 
 
 " That indeed is a name," said the earl, " to convert tears 
 into blood. Varney, I have thought on this, and I have de- 
 termined — neither entreaty nor argument .shall move me — 
 Tressilian shall be my own victim." 
 
 " It is madness, my lord; but you are too mighty for me to 
 bar your way to your revenge. Yet resolve at least to choose 
 fitting time and opportunity, and to forbear him until those 
 shall be found." 
 
 " Thou shalt order me in what thou wilt," said Leicester, 
 " only thwart me not in this." 
 
 " Then, my lord," said Varney, " I first request of you to 
 lay aside the wild, suspected, and half-frenzied demeanor 
 which hath this day drawn the eyes of all the court upon you; 
 and which, but for the Queen's partial indulgence, which she 
 hath extended towards you in a degree far beyond her nature, 
 she had never given you the opportunity to atone for." 
 
30« WA TBBLET NO VBL8. 
 
 " Have I indeed been so negligent? " said Leicester, as one 
 who awakes from a dream. " I thought I had colored it well; 
 but fear nothing, my mind is now eased — I am calm. My 
 horoscope shall be fulfilled; and that it may be fulfilled, I will 
 tax to the highest every faculty of my mind. Fear me not, I 
 say. I will to the Queen instantly; not thine own looks and 
 language shall be more impenetrable than mine. Hast thou 
 aught else to say? " 
 
 " I must crave your signet-ring/' said Vamey gravely, " in 
 token to those of your servants whom I must employ that I 
 possess your full authority in commanding their aid." 
 
 Leicester drew off the signet-ring which he commonly used 
 and gave it to Vamey with a haggard and stern expression 
 of countenance, adding only, in a low, half-whispered tane, 
 but with terrific emphasis, the words, " What thou dost, do 
 quickly.'^ 
 
 Some anxiety and wonder took place, meanwhile, in the 
 presence-hall at the prolonged absence of the noble lord of the 
 castle, and great was the delight of his friends when they saw 
 him enter as a man from whose bosom, to all human seeming, 
 a weight of care had been just removed. Amply did Leicester 
 that day redeem the pledge he had given to Vamey, who soon 
 saw himself no longer under the necessity of maintaining a 
 character so different from his own as that which he had 
 assumed in the earlier part of the day, and gradually relapsed 
 into the same grave, shrewd, caustic observer of conversation 
 and incident which constituted his usual part in society. 
 
 With Elizabeth, Leicester played his game as one to whom 
 her natural strength of talent, and her weakness in one or two 
 particular points, were well known. He was too wary to 
 exchange on a sudden the sullen personage which he had 
 played before he retired with Vamey; but, on approaching 
 her, it seemed softened into a melancholy, which had a touch 
 of tenderness in it, and which, in the course of conversing 
 with Elizabeth, and as she dropped in compassion one mark 
 of favor after another to console him, passed into a flow of 
 affectionate gallantry the most assiduous, the most delicate, 
 the most insinuating, yet at the same time the most respect- 
 ful, with which a queen was ever addressed by a subject. 
 Elizabeth listened as in a sort of enchantment; her jealousy 
 of power was lulled asleep; her resolution to forsake all social 
 or domestic ties, and dedicate herself exclusively to the care 
 of her people, began to be shaken, and once more the star of 
 Dudley culminate in the court horizon. 
 
EENILWORTH. 397 
 
 But Leicester did not enjoy this triumph over nature and 
 over conscience without its being embittered to him, not only 
 by the internal rebellion of his feelings against the violence 
 which he exercised over them, but by many accidental circum- 
 stances, which, in the course of the banquet, and during the 
 subsequent amusements of the evening, jarred upon that nerve 
 the least vibration of which was agony. 
 
 The courtiers were, for example, in the great hall, after 
 having left the banqueting-room, awaiting the appearance of 
 a splendid masque, which was the expected entertainment of 
 this evening, when the Queen interrupted a wild career of wit 
 which the Earl of Leicester was running against Lord Wil- 
 loughby, Ealeigh, and some other courtiers, by saying, "We 
 will impeach you of high treason, my lord, if you proceed in 
 this attempt to slay us with laughter. And here comes a 
 thing may make us all grave at his pleasure, our learned 
 physician Masters, with news belike of our poor suppliant. 
 Lady Vamey; nay, my lord, we will not have you leave us, 
 for this being a dispute betwixt married persons, we do not 
 hold our own experience deep enough to decide thereon, with- 
 out good counsel. How now. Masters, what think^st thou of 
 the runaway bride? " 
 
 The smile with which Leicester had been speaking when 
 the Queen interrupted him remained arrested on his lips, as 
 if it had been carved there by the chisel of Michael Angelo or 
 of Chantrey; and he listened to the speech of the physician 
 with the same immovable cast of countenance. 
 
 " The Lady Vamey, gracious sovereign," said the court 
 physician Masters, " is sullen, and would hold little conference 
 with me touching the state of her health, talking wildly of 
 being soon to plead her own cause before your own presence, 
 and of answering no meaner person's inquiries.'^ 
 
 "Now, the Heavens forefend! " said the Queen; "we have 
 already suffered from the misconstructions and broils which 
 seem to follow this poor brain-sick lady wherever she comes. 
 Think you not so, my lord?" she added, appealing to 
 Leicester, with something in her look that indicated regret, 
 even tenderly expressed, for their disagreement of that morn- 
 ing. Leicester compelled himself to bow low. The utmost 
 force he could exert was inadequate to the farther effort of 
 expressing in words his acquiescence in the Queen's sen- 
 timent. 
 
 "You are vindictive," she said, "my lord; but we will 
 find time and plac« to punish you. But once moje to this 
 
898 WAYERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 same trouble-mirth — this Lady Varney. What of her health, 
 Masters? " 
 
 " She is sullen, madam, as I already said/' replied 
 Masters, " and refuses to answer interrogatories or be amen- 
 able to the authority of the mediciner. I conceive her to be 
 posessed with a delirium, which I incline to term rather hypo- 
 chondria than phrenesis; and I think she were best cared for 
 by her husband in his own house, and removed from all this 
 bustle of pageants, which disturbs her weak brain with the 
 most fantastic phantoms. She drops hints as if she were some 
 great person in disguise — some countess or princess perchance. 
 God help them, such are often the hallucinations of these in- 
 firm persons! " 
 
 " Nay, then," said the Queen, " away with her with ail 
 speed. Let Varney care for her with fitting humanity; but 
 let them rid the castle of her forthwith. She will think her- 
 self lady of all, I warrant you. It is pity so fair a form, 
 however, should have an infirm understanding. What think 
 you, my lord ? " 
 
 " It is pity indeed," said the earl, repeating the words like 
 a task which was set him. 
 
 " But, perhaps," said Elizabeth, " you do not join with '>s 
 in our opinion of her beauty; and indeed we have known men 
 prefer a statelier and more Juno-like form to that drooping, 
 fragile one, that hung its head like a broken lily. Aye, men 
 are tyrants, my lord, who esteem the animation of the strife 
 above the triumph of an unresisting conquest, and, like sturdy 
 champions, love best those women who can wage contest with 
 them. I could think with you, Eutland, that, give my Lord 
 of Leicester such a piece of painted wax for a bride, he would 
 have wished her dead ere the end of the honeymoon." 
 
 As she said this, she looked on Leicester so expressively 
 that, while his heart revolted against the egregious falsehood, 
 he did himself so much violence as to reply in a whisper, that 
 Leicester's love was more lowly than her Majesty deemed, 
 since it was settled where he could never command, but must 
 ever obey. 
 
 The Queen blushed, and bid him be silent; yet looked as 
 if she expected that he would not obey her commands. But 
 at that moment the flourish of trumpets and kettle-drums 
 from a high balcony which overlooked the hall announced the 
 entrance of the masquers, and relieved Leicester from the hor- 
 rible state of constraint and dissimulation in which the result 
 ol his own duplicity had placed him. 
 
KENILWORTH. 399 
 
 The masque which entered consisted of four separate bands^ 
 which followed each other at brief intervals, each consisting 
 of six principal persons and as many torch-bearers, and each 
 representing one of the various nations by which England had 
 at different times been occupied. 
 
 The aboriginal Britons, who first entered, were ushered in 
 by two ancient Druids, whose hoary hair was crowned with a 
 chaplet of oak, and who bore in their hands branches of 
 mistletoe. The masquers who followed these venerable figures 
 were succeeded by two bards, arrayed in white, and bearing 
 harps, which they occasionally touched, singing at the same 
 time certain stanzas of an ancient hymn to Belus, or the Sun. 
 The- aboriginal Britons had been selected from amongst the 
 tallest and most robust young gentlemen in attendance on the 
 court. Their masks were accommodated with long shaggy 
 beards and hair; their vestments were of the hides of wolves 
 and bears; while their legs, arms, and the upper parts of their 
 bodies, being sheathed in flesh-colored silk, on which were 
 traced in grotesque lines representations of the heavenly 
 bodies, and of animals and other terrestrial objects, gave them 
 the lively appearance of our painted ancestors, whose freedom 
 was first trenched upon by the Romans. 
 
 The sons of Rome, who came to civilize as well as to con- 
 quer, were next produced before the princely assembly; and 
 the manager of the revels had correctly imitated the high 
 crest and military habits of that celebrated people, accom- 
 modating them with the light yet strong buckler; and the 
 short two-edged sword, the use of which had made them vic- 
 tors of the world. The Roman eagles were borne before them 
 by two standard bearers, who recited a hymn to Mars, and the 
 classical warriors followed them with the grave and haughty 
 step of men who aspired at universal conquest. 
 
 The third quadrille represented the Saxons, clad in the 
 bearskins which they had brought with them from the Ger- 
 man forests, and bearing in their hands the redoubtable battle- 
 axes which made such havoc among the natives of Britain. 
 They were preceded by two scalds, who chanted the praises 
 of Odin. 
 
 Last came the knightly Normans, in their mail-shirts and 
 hoods of steel, with all the panoply of chivalry, and marshaled 
 by two minstrels, who sung of war and ladies' love. 
 
 These four bands entered the spacious hall with the utmost 
 order, a short pause being made that the spectators might 
 satisfy their curiosity as to each quadrille before the appear- 
 
400 WAVEBLBY NOVELS. 
 
 iuice of the next. They then marched completely round the 
 hall, in order the more fully to display themselves, regulating 
 their steps to organs, shalms, hautboys, and virginals, the 
 music of the Lord Leicester's household. At length the four 
 quadrilles of masquers, ranging their torch-bearers behind 
 them, drew up in their several ranks on the two opposite sides 
 of the hall, so that the Eomans confronting the Britons, and 
 the Saxons the Normans, seemed to look on each other with 
 eyes of wonder, which presently appeared to kindle into anger, 
 expressed by menacing gestures. At the burst of a strain of 
 martial music from the gallery, the masquers drew their 
 swords on all sides, and advanced against each other in the 
 measured steps of a sort of Pyrrhic or military dance, clashing 
 their swords against their adversaries' shields, and clattering 
 them against their blades as they passed each other in the 
 progress of the dance. It was a very pleasant spectacle to 
 see how the various bands, preserving regularity amid mo- 
 tions which seemed to be totally irregular, mixed together, and 
 then disengaging themselves resumed each their own original 
 rank as the music varied. 
 
 In this symbolical dance were represented the conflicts 
 which had taken place among the various nations which had 
 anciently inhabited Britain. 
 
 At length, after many mazy evolutions, which afforded 
 great pleasure to the spectators, the sound of a loud-voiced 
 trumpet was heard, as if it blew for instant battle or for vic- 
 tory won. The masquers instantly ceased their mimic strife, 
 and collecting themselves under their original leaders, or pre- 
 senters, for such was the appropriate phrase, seemed to share 
 the anxious expectation which the spectators experienced con- 
 cerning what was next to appear. 
 
 The doors of the hall were thrown wide, and no less a per- 
 son entered than the fiend-bom Merlin, dressed in a strange 
 and mystical attire, suited to his ambiguous birth and magical 
 power. About him and behind him fluttered or gamboled 
 many extraordinary forms, intended to represent the spirits 
 who waited to do his powerful bidding; and so much did this 
 part of the pageant interest the menials and others of the 
 lower class then in the castle, that many of them forgot even 
 the reverence due to the Queen's presence so far as to thrust 
 themselves into the lower part of the hall. 
 
 The Earl of Leicester, seeing his officers had some difficulty 
 to repel these intruders, without more disturbance than was 
 .fitting where the Queen was in j)resence, arose and went him- 
 
KEmLWORTB. 401 
 
 self to the bottom of the hall; Elizabeth, at the same time, 
 with her usual feeling for the common people, requesting that 
 they might be permitted to remain undisturbed to witness the 
 pageant. Leicester went under this pretext; but his real mo- 
 tive was to gain a moment to himself, and to relieve his mind, 
 were it but for one instant, from the dreadful task of hiding, 
 under the guise of gayety and gallantry, the lacerating pangs 
 of shame, anger, remorse, and thirst for vengeance. He im- 
 posed silence by his look and sign upon the vulgar crowd at 
 the lower end of the apartment; but, instead of instantly 
 returning to wait on her Majesty, he wrapped his cloak around 
 him, and mixing with the crowd, stood in some degree an 
 undistinguished spectator of the progress of the masque. 
 
 Merlin, having entered and advanced into the midst of the 
 hall, summoned the presenters of the contending bands 
 around him by a wave of his magical rod, and announced to 
 them, in a poetical speech, that the Isle of Britain was now 
 commanded by a royal maiden, to whom it was the will of 
 fate that they should all do homage, and request of her to pro- 
 nounce on the various pretensions which each set forth to be 
 esteemed the pre-eminent stock from which the present 
 natives, the happy subjects of that angelical princess, derived 
 their lineage. 
 
 In obedience to this mandate, the bands, each moving to 
 solemn music, passed in succession before Elizabeth; doing 
 her, as they passed, each after the fashion of the people whom 
 they represented, the lowest and most devotional homage, 
 which she returned with the same gracious courtesy that 
 had marked her whole conduct since she came to Kenilworth, 
 
 The presenters of the several masques, or quadrilles, thep 
 alleged, each in behalf of his own troop, the reason which 
 they had for claiming pre-eminence over the rest; and when 
 they had been all heard in turn, she returned them this gra- 
 cious answer: " That she was sorry she was not better quah*/ 
 fied to decide upon the doubtful question which had been 
 propounded to her by the direction of the famous Merlin, but 
 that it seemed to her that no single one of these celebrated 
 nations could claim pre-eminence over the others as having 
 moet contributed to form the Englishman of her own time, 
 who unquestionably derived from each of them some worthy 
 attribute of his character. Thus," she said, "the English- 
 man had from the ancient Briton his bold and tameless spirit 
 of freedom; from the Eoman his disciplined courage in war, 
 with his love of letters and civilization in time of peace; from 
 
402 WAVBBLE7 NOVELS. 
 
 the Saxon his wise and equitable laws; and from the chival- 
 rous Norman hie love of honor and courtesy, with his gener- 
 ous desire for glory/' 
 
 Merlin answered with readiness, that it did indeed require 
 that so many choice qualities should meet in the English as 
 might render them in some measure the muster of the per- 
 fections of other nations, since that alone could render them 
 in some degree deserving of the blessings they enjoyed under 
 the reign of England's Elizabeth. 
 
 The music then sounded, and the quadrilles, together with 
 Merlin and his assistants, had begun to remove from the 
 crowded hall, when Leicester, who was, as we have mentioned, 
 stationed for the moment near the bottom of the hall, and 
 consequently engaged in some degree in the crowd, felt him- 
 self pulled by the cloak, while a voice whispered in his ear, 
 " My lord, I do desire some instant conference with you.'' 
 
CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 How is't with me, when every noise appalls me ? 
 
 —Macbeth. 
 
 " I DESIEE some conference with yon." The words were 
 simple in themselves, but Lord Leicester was in that alarmed 
 and feverish state of mind when the most ordinary occur- 
 rences seem fraught with alarming import; and he turned 
 hastily round to survey the person by whom they had been 
 spoken. There was nothing remarkable in the speaker's ap- 
 pearance, which consisted of a black silk doublet and short 
 mantle, with a black vizard on his face; for it appeared he 
 had been among the crowd of masks who had thronged into 
 the hall in the retinue of Merlin, though he did not wear any 
 of the extravagant disguises by which most of them were dis- 
 tinguished. 
 
 " Who are you, or what do you want with me? " said 
 Leicester, not without betraying, by his accents, the hurried 
 state of his spirits. 
 
 " No evil, my lord," answered the mask, " but much good 
 and honor, if you will rightly understand my purpose. But 
 I must speak with you more privately." 
 
 " I can speak with no nameless stranger," answered Leices- 
 ter, dreading he knew not precisely what from the request of 
 the stranger; " and those who are known to me must seek 
 another and a fitter time to ask an interview." 
 
 He would have hurried away, but the mask still detained 
 him. 
 
 " Those who talk to your lordship of what your own honor 
 demands have a right over your time, whatever occupations 
 you may lay aside in order to indulge them." 
 
 " How! my honor! Who dare impeach it? " said Leicester. 
 
 "Your own conduct alone can furnish grounds for accus- 
 ing it, my lord, and it is that topic on which I would speak 
 with you." 
 
 "You are insolent," said Leicester, "and abuse the hos- 
 pitable license of the time, which prevents me from having 
 you punished. I demand your name? " 
 
 "Edmund Tressilian of Cornwall," answered the mask, 
 
 408 
 
404 WA VERLEY NO VEL8. 
 
 "My tongue has been bound by a promise for four-and- 
 twenty hours; the space is passed — I now speak, and do your 
 lordship the justice to addrej&s myself first to you." 
 
 The thrill of astonishment which had penetrated to Leicee- 
 ter's very heart at hearing that name pronounced by the voice 
 of the man he most detested, and by whom he conceived 
 himself so deeply injured, at first rendered him immovable, 
 but instantly gave way to such a thirst for revenge as the 
 pilgrim in the desert feels for the water-brooks. He had 
 but sense and self-government enough left to prevent his 
 stabbing to the heart the audacious villain who, after the 
 ruin he had brought upon him, dared, with such unmoved 
 assurance, thus to practice upon him farther. Determined to 
 suppress for the moment every symptom of agitation in order 
 to perceive the full scope of Tressilian's purpose, as well as to 
 secure his own vengeance, he answered in a tone so altered 
 by restrained passion as scarce to be intelligible — " And what 
 does Master Edmund Tressilian require at my hand? " 
 
 " Justice, my lord," answered Tressilian, calmly but firmly. 
 
 " Justice," said Leicester, " all men are entitled to. You, 
 Master Tressilian, are peculiarly so, and be assured you shall 
 have it." 
 
 "I expect nothing less from your nobleness," answered 
 Tressilian; "but time presses, and I must speak with you 
 to-night. May I wait on you in your chamber? " 
 
 " No," answered Leicester sternly, " not under a roof, and 
 that roof mine own. We will meet under the free cope of 
 heaven." 
 
 "You are discomposed or displeased, my lord," replied 
 Tressilian; "yet there is no occasion for distemperature. 
 The place is equal to me, so you allow me one half-hour of 
 your time uninterrupted." 
 
 " A shorter time will, I trust, suffice," answered Leicester. 
 " Meet me in the Pleasance, when the Queen has retired to 
 her chamber." 
 
 "Enough," said Tressilian, and withdrew; while a sort of 
 rapture seemed for the moment to occupy the mind of 
 Leicester. 
 
 "Heaven," he said, "is at last favorable to me, and has 
 put within my reach the wretch who has branded me with this 
 deep ignominy — who has inflicted on me this cruel agony. I 
 will blame fate no more, since I am afforded the means of 
 tracing the wiles by which he means still farther to practice 
 on me, and then of at once convicting and punishing his 
 
KENILWORTH. 405 
 
 villainy. To my task — to my task! I will not sink under it 
 now, since midnight, at farthest, will bring me vengeance." 
 
 While these reflections thronged through Leicester's mind, 
 he again made his way amid the obsequious crowd, which 
 divided to give him passage, and resumed his place, envied 
 and admired, beside the person of his sovereign. But, could 
 the bosom of him thus admired and envied have been laid 
 •pen before the inhabitants of .that crowded hall, with all its 
 dark thoughts of guilty ambition, blighted affection, deep 
 vengeance, and conscious sense of meditated cruelty crossing 
 each other like specters in the circle of some foul enchantress, 
 which of them, from the most ambitious noble in the courtly 
 circle down to the most wretched menial who lived by shift- 
 ing of trenchers, would have desired to change characters 
 with the favorite of Elizabeth and the Lord of Kenilworth! 
 
 New tortures awaited him as soon as he had rejoined 
 Elizabeth. 
 
 *^ You come in time, my lord," she said, " to decide a dis- 
 pute between us ladies. Here has Sir Eichard Varney asked 
 our permission to depart from the castle with his infirm lady, 
 having, as he tells us, your lordship's consent to his absence, 
 so he can obtain ours. Certes, we have no will to withhold 
 him from the affectionate charge of this poor young person; 
 but you are to know, that Sir Richard Varney hath this day 
 shown himself so much captivated with these ladies of ours, 
 that here is our Duchess of Rutland says, he will carry his 
 poor insane wife no farther than the lake, plunge her in, to 
 tenant the crystal palaces that the enchanted nymph told us 
 of, and return a jolly widower, to dry his tears and to make 
 up the loss among our train. How say you, my lord? We 
 have seen Varney under two or three different guises; you 
 know what are his proper attributes — think you he is capable 
 of playing his lady such a knave's trick? " 
 
 Leicester was confounded, but the danger was urgent, and 
 a reply absolutely necessary. " The ladies," he said, " think 
 too lightly of one of their own sex in supposing she could de- 
 serve such a fate, or too ill of ours, to think it could be in- 
 flicted upon an innocent female." 
 
 " Hear him, my ladies," said Elizabeth; " like all his sex, 
 he would excuse their cruelty by imputing fickleness to us." 
 
 " Say not us, madam," replied the earl; " we say that 
 meaner women, like the lesser lights of heaven, have revolu- 
 tions and phases, but who shall impute mutability to the sun 
 or to Elizabeth?" 
 
406 WA VERLET NO VEL8. 
 
 The discourse presently afterward assumed a less perilous 
 tendency, and Leicester continued to support his part in it 
 with spirit, at whatever expense of mental agony. So pleas- 
 ing did it seem to Elizabeth, that the castle bell had sounded 
 midnight ere she retired from the company, a circumstance 
 unusual in her quiet and regular habits of disposing of time. 
 Her departure was, of course, the signal for breaking up the 
 company, who dispersed to their several places of repose, to 
 dream over the pastimes of the day or to anticipate those of 
 the morrow. 
 
 The unfortunate lord of the castle, and founder of the 
 proud festival, retired to far different thoughts. His direc- 
 tion to the valet who attended him was to send Vamey in- 
 stantly to his apartment. The messenger returned after some 
 delay, and informed him that an hour had elapsed since Sir 
 Eichard Vamey had left the castle by the postern gate, with 
 three other persons, one of whom was transported in a horse- 
 litter. 
 
 " How came he to leave the castle after the watch was set? " 
 said Leicester. " I thought he went not till daybreak." 
 
 " He gave satisfactory reasons, as I understand," said the 
 domestic, " to the guard, and, as I hear, showed your lord- 
 ship's signet " 
 
 " True — true," said the earl; " yet he has been hasty. Do 
 any of his attendants remain behind? " 
 
 " Michael Lambourne, my lord," said the valet, " was not 
 to be found when Sir Eichard Vamey departed, and his mas- 
 ter was much incensed at his absence. I saw him but now 
 saddling his horse to gallop after his master." 
 
 " Bid him come hither instantly," said Leicester; " I have 
 a message to his master." 
 
 The servant left the apartment, and Leicester traversed it 
 for some time in deep meditation. " Vamey is over zealous," 
 h^ said — " over pressing. He loves me, I think; but he hath 
 his own ends to serve, and he is inexorable in pursuit of them. 
 If I rise he rises, and he hath shown himself already but too 
 eager to rid me of this obstacle which seems to stand betwixt 
 me and sovereignty. Yet I will not stoop to bear this dis- 
 grace. She shall be punished, but it shall be more advisedly. 
 I already feel, even in anticipation, that over-haste would 
 light the flames of hell in my bosom. No; one victim is 
 enough at once, and that victim already waits me." 
 
 He seized upon writing-materials, and hastily traced these 
 words: — " Sir Eichard Vamey, we have resolved to defer the 
 
KENILWORTH. 407 
 
 matter intrusted to your care, and strictly command you to 
 proceed no farther in relation to our countess until our 
 further order. We also command your instant return to 
 Kenilworth, as soon as you have safely bestowed that with 
 which you are intrusted. But if the safe-placing of your 
 present charge shall detain you longer than we think for, we 
 command you, in that case, to send back our signet-ring by a 
 trusty and speedy messenger, we having present need of the 
 same. And requiring your strict obedience in these things, 
 and commending you to God's keeping, we rest your assured 
 good friend and master, 
 
 "R. Leicester. 
 
 " Given at our Castle of Kenilworth, the tenth of July, in 
 the year of salvation one thousand five hundred and seventy- 
 five." 
 
 As Leicester had finished and sealed this mandate, Michael 
 Lambourne, booted up to mid-thigh, having his riding-cloak 
 girthed around him with a broad belt, and a felt cap on his 
 head, like that of a courier, entered his apartment, ushered 
 in by the valet. 
 
 " What is thy capacity of siervice? " said the earl. 
 
 "Equerry to your lordship's master of the horse," an- 
 swered Lambourne, with his customary assurance. 
 
 " Tie up thy saucy tongue, sir," said Leicester; " the jests 
 that may suit Sir Richard Varney's presence suit not mine. 
 How soon wilt thou overtake thy master? " 
 
 " In one hour's riding, my lord, if man and horse hold 
 good," said Lambourne, with an instant alteration of de- 
 meanor from an approach to familiarity to the deepest 
 respect. The earl measured him with his eye from top to 
 toe. 
 
 "I have heard of thee," he said: "men say thou ari: a 
 prompt fellow in thy service, but too much given to brawling 
 and to wassail to be trusted with things of moment." 
 
 " My lord," said Lambourne, " I have been soldier, sailor, 
 traveler, and adventurer; and these are all trades in which 
 men enjoy to-day because they have no surety of to-morrow. 
 But though I may misuse mine own leisure, I have never 
 neglected the duty I owe my master." 
 
 " See that it be so in this instance," said Leicester, " and it 
 shall do thee good. Deliver this letter speedily and carefully 
 into Sir Richard Vaxney's hands." 
 
408 WAVEBLET NOVELS, 
 
 "Does my commission reach no farther? " said Lamboume. 
 
 " No," answered Leicester; " but it deeply concerns me 
 that it be carefully as well as hastily executed." 
 
 " I will spare neither care nor horse-flesh," answered Lam- 
 bourne, and immediately took his leave. 
 
 " So this is the end of my private audience, from which I 
 hoped so much! " he muttered to himself, as he went through 
 the long gallery and down the back staircase. " Cog's bones! 
 I thought the earl had wanted a cast of mine office in some 
 secret intrigue, and it all ends in carrying a letter! Well, his 
 pleasure shall be done, however, and, as his lordship well says, 
 it may do me good another time. The child must creep ere 
 he walk, and so must your infant courtier. I will have a look 
 into this letter, however, which he hath sealed so sloven-like." 
 Having accomplished this, he clapped his hands together in 
 ecstacy, exclaiming, ^* The countess — the countess! I have 
 the secret that shall make or mar me. But come forth. 
 Bayard," he added, leading his horse into the courtyard, " for 
 your flanks and my spurs must be presently acquainted." 
 
 Lamboume mounted accordingly, and left the castle by 
 the postern gate, where his free passage was permitted, in 
 consequence of a message to that effect left by Sir Kichard 
 Vamey. 
 
 As soon as Lamboume and the valet had left the apart- 
 ment, Leicester proceeded to change his dress for a very plain 
 one, threw his mantle around him, and, taking a lamp in his 
 hand, went by the private passage of communication to a small 
 secret postern door which opened into the courtyard, near to 
 the entrance of the Pleasance. His reflections were of a more 
 calm and determined character than they had been at any 
 late period, and he endeavored to claim, even in his own eyes, 
 the character of a man more sinned against than sinning. 
 
 " I have suffered the deepest injury," such was the tenor of 
 his meditations, "yet I have restricted the instant revenge 
 which was in my power, and have limited it to that which is 
 manly and noble. But shall the union which this false 
 woman has this day disgraced remain an abiding fetter on me, 
 to check me in the noble career to which my destinies invite 
 me? No — ^there are other means of disengaging such ties, 
 without unloosing the cords of life. In the sight of God, I 
 am no longer bound by the union she has broken. King- 
 doms shall divide us — oceans roll betwixt us, and their waves, 
 whose abysses have swallowed whole navies, shall be the sole 
 depositories of the deadly mystery." 
 
KENILWOnrit. 40d 
 
 By such a train of argument did Leicester labor to reconcile 
 his conscience to the prosecution of plans of vengeance so 
 hastily adopted, and of schemes of ambition which had 
 become so woven in with every purpose and action of his life 
 that he was incapable of the effort of relinquishing them; 
 until his revenge appeared to him to wear a face of justice, 
 and even of generous moderation. 
 
 In this mood, the vindictive and ambitious earl entered 
 the superb precincts of the Pleasance, then illumined by the 
 full moon. The broad yellow light was reflected on all sides 
 from the white freestone of which the pavement, balustrades, 
 and architectural ornaments of the place were constructed, 
 and not a single fleecy cloud was visible in the azure sky, so 
 that the scene was nearly as light as if the sun had but just 
 left the horizon. The numerous statues of white marble 
 glimmered in the pale light, like so many sheeted ghosts just 
 arisen from {heir sepulchers, and the fountains threw their 
 jets into the air, as if they sought that their waters should be 
 brightened by the moonbeams, ere they fell down again upon 
 their basins in showers of sparkling silver. The day had 
 been sultry, and the gentle night breeze, which sighed along 
 the terrace of the Pleasance, raised not a deeper breath than 
 the fan in the hand of youthful beauty. The bird of sum- 
 mer night had built many a nest in the bowers of the adjacent 
 garden, and the tenants now indemnified themselves for 
 silence during the day by a full chorus of their own unrivaled 
 warblings, now joyous, now pathetic, now united, now respon- 
 sive to each other, as if to express their delight in the placid 
 and delicious scene to which they poured their melody. 
 
 Musing on matters far different from the fall of waters, the 
 gleam of moonlight, or the song of the nightingale, the 
 stately Leicester walked slowly from the one end of the ter- 
 race to the other, his cloak wrapped around him, and his 
 sword under his arm, without seeing anything resembling the 
 human form. 
 
 " I have been fooled by my own generosity," he said, " if I 
 have suffered the villain to escape me — aye, and perhaps to 
 go to the rescue of the adulteress, who is so poorly guarded." 
 
 These were his thoughts, which were instantly dispelled 
 when, turning to look back toward the entrance, he saw a 
 human form advancing slowly from the portico, and darken- 
 ing the various objects with its shadow, as passing them suc- 
 cessively, in its approach toward him. 
 
 " Shall T strike ere I again hear his detested voic«? " wm 
 
410 WAVBRLBT NOVELS. 
 
 Leicester's thought, as he grasped the hilt of the sword. 
 "But no! I will see which way his vile practice tends. I 
 will watch, disgusting as it is, the coils and mazes of the 
 loathsome snake, ere I put forth my strength and crush him." 
 
 His hand quitted the sword-hilt, and he advanced slowly 
 toward Tressilian, collecting, for their meeting, all the self- 
 possession he could command, until they came front to front 
 with each other. 
 
 Tressilian made a profound reverence, to which the earl 
 replied with a haughty inclination of the head, and the words, 
 " You sought secret conference with me, sir; I am here, and 
 attentive." 
 
 " My lord," said Tressilian, " I am so earnest in that which 
 I have to say, and so desirous to find a patient, nay, a favor- 
 able, hearing, that I will stoop to exculpate myself from 
 whatever might prejudice your lordship against me. You 
 think me your enemy? " 
 
 "Have I not some apparent cause?" answered Leicester, 
 perceiving that Tressilian paused for a reply. 
 
 " You do me wrong, my lord. I am a friend, but neither a 
 dependent nor partisan, of the Earl of Sussex, whom cour- 
 tiers call your rival; and it is some considerable time since I 
 ceased to regard either courts or court intrigues as suited to 
 my temper or genius." 
 
 "No doubt, sir," answered Leicester, "there are other 
 occupations more worthy a scholar, and for such the world 
 holds Master Tressilian: love has his intrigues as well as 
 ambition." 
 
 " I perceive, my lord," replied Tressilian, " you give much 
 weight to my early attachment for the unfortunate young 
 person of whom I am about to speak, and perhaps think I 
 am prosecuting her cause out of rivalry more than a sense of 
 justice." 
 
 " No matter for my thoughts, sir," said the earl; " proceed. 
 You have^ as yet spoken of yourself only — an important and 
 worthy subject doubtless, but which, perhaps, does not alto- 
 gether so deeply concern me that I should postpone my re- 
 pose to hear it. Spare me farther prelude, sir, and speak to 
 the purpose, if indeed you have aught to say that concerns 
 me. When you have done, I, in my turn, have something to 
 communicate." 
 
 "I will speak, then, without farther prelude, my lord," 
 answered Tressilian ; " having to say that which, as it con- 
 eys your lordship's honor, I am confident you will not 
 
KENILWOETH. 411 
 
 think your time wasted in listening to. I have to request an 
 account from your lordship of the unhappy Amy Kobsart, 
 whose history is too well known to you. I regret deeply that 
 I did not at once take this course, and make yourself judge 
 between me and the villain by whom she is injured. My 
 lord, she extricated herself from an unlawful and most peril- 
 ous state of confinement, trusting to the effects of her own 
 remonstrance upon her unworthy husband, and extorted from 
 me a promise that I would not interfere in her behalf until 
 she had used her own efforts to have her rights acknowledged 
 by him." 
 
 " Ha! " said Leicester, " remember you to whom you 
 speak ? " 
 
 "I speak of her unworthy husband, my lord," repeated 
 Tressilian, "and my respect can find no softer language. 
 The unhappy young woman is withdrawn from my knowl- 
 edge, and sequestered in some secret place of this castle — if 
 she be not transferred to some place of seclusion better fitted 
 for bad designs. This must be reformed, my lord — I speak 
 it as authorized by her father — and this ill-fated marriage 
 must be avouched and proved in the Queen's presence, and 
 the lady placed without restraint and at her own free dis- 
 posal. And, permit me to say, it concerns no one's honor 
 that these most just demands of mine should be complied 
 with so much as it does that of your lordship." 
 
 The earl stood as if he had been petrified, at the extreme 
 coolness with which the man, whom he considered as having 
 injured him so deeply, pleaded the cause of his criminal para- 
 mour, as if she had been an innocent woman, and he a dis- 
 interested advocate; nor was his wonder lessened by the 
 warmth with which Tressilian seemed to demand for her the 
 rank and situation which she had disgraced, and the advan- 
 tages of which she was doubtless to share with the lover who 
 advocated her cause with such effrontery. Tressilian had 
 been silent for more than a minute ere the earl recovered from 
 the excess of his astonishment; and, considering the prepos- 
 sessions with which his mind was occupied, there is little 
 wonder that his passion gained the mastery of every other 
 consideration. " I have heard you. Master Tressilian," said 
 he, " without interruption, and I bless God that my ears were 
 never before made to tingle by the words of so frontless a 
 villain. The task of chaetising you is fitter for the hang- 
 man's scourge than the sword of a nobleman, but yet r- 
 
 Villain, draw and defend thyself! " \ >ii»i>AiKl 
 
412 WAVERLEY NOVELS. 
 
 As he spoke the last words, he dropped his mantle on the 
 ground, struck Tressilian smartly with his sheathed sword, 
 and instantly drawing his rapier, put himself into a posture 
 of assault. The vehement fury of his language at first filled 
 Tressilian, in his turn, with surprise equal to what Leicester 
 had felt when he addressed him. But astonishment gave rise 
 to resentment, when the unmerited insults of his language 
 were followed by a blow, which immediately put to flight 
 every thought save that of instant combat. Treesilian's 
 sword was instantly drawn, and though perhaps somewhat in- 
 ferior to Leicester in the use of the weapon, he understood it 
 well enough to maintain the contest with great spirit, the 
 rather that of the two he was for the time the more cool, since 
 he could not help imputing Leicester's conduct either to 
 actual frenzy or to the influence of some strong delusion. 
 
 The rencontre had continued for several minutes, without 
 either party receiving a wound, when of a sudden voices were 
 heard beneath the portico, which formed the entrance of the 
 terrace, mingled with the steps of men advancing hastily. 
 " We are interrupted," said Leicester to his antagonist; " fol- 
 low me." 
 
 At the same time a voice from the portico said, " The 
 jackanape is right: they are tilting here." 
 
 Leicester, meanwhile, drew off Tressilian into a sort of 
 recess behind one of the fountains, which served to conceal 
 them, while six of the yeomen of the Queen's guard passed 
 along the middle walk of the Pleasance, and they could hear 
 one say to the rest, " We shall never find them to-night 
 amongst all these squirting funnels, squirrel-cages, and rab- 
 bit-holes; but if we light not on them before we reach the 
 farther end, we will return, and mount a guard at the en- 
 trance, and so secure them till morning." 
 
 " A proper matter," said another, " the drawing of swords 
 60 near the Queen's presence, aye, and in her very palace as 
 'twere! Hang it, they must be some poor drunken game- 
 cocks fallen to sparring; 'twere pity almost we should find 
 them — the penalty is chopping off a hand, is it not? 'Twere 
 hard to lose hand for handling a bit of steel, that comes so 
 natural to one's gripe." 
 
 " Thou art a brawler thyself, George," said another; '' but 
 take heed, for the law stands as thou sayest." 
 
 " Aye," said the first, " an the act be not mildly construed; 
 for thou know'ftt 'tis not the Queen's palace, but my Lord of 
 Liic«it«r'i." 
 
KBNILWORTH, 418 
 
 "Why, for that matter, the penalty may be as severe," 
 said another; " for an our gracious mistress be queen, as 
 she is, God save her, my Lord of Leicester is as good as 
 king." 
 
 "Hush! thou knave! ^' said a third; "how know'st thou 
 who may be within hearing? " 
 
 They passed on, making a kind of careless search, but 
 seemingly more intent on their own conversation than bent 
 on discovering the persons who had created the nocturnal dis- 
 turbance. 
 
 They had no sooner passed forward along the terrace than 
 Leicester, making a sign to Tressilian to follow him, glided 
 away in an opposite direction, and escaped through the por- 
 tico undiscovered. He conducted Tressilian to Mervyn's 
 Tower, in which he was now again lodged; and then, ere part- 
 ing with him, said these words, " If thou hast courage to con- 
 tinue and bring to an end what is thus broken off, be near me 
 when the court goes forth to-morrow; we shall find a time, 
 and I will give you a signal when it is fitting." 
 
 "My lord," said Tressilian, "at another time I might 
 have inquired the meaning of this strange and furious invet- 
 eracy against me. But you have laid that on my shoulder 
 which only blood can wash away; and were you as high as 
 your proudest wishes ever carried you, I would have from you 
 satisfaction for my wounded honor." 
 
 On these terms they parted, but the adventures of the 
 night were not yet ended with Leicester. He was compelled 
 to pass by Saintlowe^s Tower in order to gain the private 
 passage which led to his own chamber, and in the entrance 
 thereof he met Lord Hunsdon half-clothed and with a 
 naked sword under his arm. 
 
 "Are you awakened, too, with this 'larum, my Lord of 
 Leicester?" said the old soldier. " 'Tis well. By gog^s 
 nails, the nights are as noisy as the day in this castle of yours. 
 Some two hours since, I was waked by the screams of that 
 poor brain-sick Lady Yarney, whom her husband was forcing 
 away. I promise you, it rec^uired both your warrant and the 
 Queen's to keep me from entering into the game, and cutting 
 that Varney of yours over the head; and now there is a brawl 
 down in the Pleasance, or what call you the stone terrace- 
 walk, where all yonder gimcracks stand?" 
 
 The first part of the old man's speech went through the 
 earl's heart like a knife; to the last he answered that he him- 
 •elf had heard the clash of swords, and had come down to 
 
414 WAVERLBT NOVELS, 
 
 take order with those who had heen so insolent so near the 
 Queen^s presence. 
 
 " Nay, then," said Hunsdon, " I will be glad of your lord- 
 ship's company/* 
 
 Leicester was thus compelled to turn back with the rough 
 old lord to the Pleasance, where Hunsdon heard from the 
 yeomen of the guard, who were under his immediate com- 
 mand, the unsuccessful search they had made for the authors 
 of the disturbance; and bestowed for their pains some round 
 dozen of curses on them, as lazy knaves and blind whoresons. 
 Leicester also thought it necessary to seem angry that no dis- 
 covery had been effected; but at length suggested to Lord 
 Hunsdon that, after all, it could only be some foolish young 
 men who had been drinking healths pottle-deep, and who 
 would be sufficiently scared by the search which had taken 
 place after them. Hunsdon, who was himself attached to his 
 cup, allowed that a pint-flagon might cover many of the 
 follies which it had caused. " But," he added, " unless your 
 lordship will be less liberal in your housekeeping, and re- 
 strain the overflow of ale, and wine, and wassail, I foresee it 
 will end in my having some of these good fellows into the 
 guard-house, and treating them to a dose of the strappado. 
 And with this warning, good-night to you." 
 
 Joyful at being rid of his company, Leicester took leave of 
 him at the entrance of his lodging, where they had first met, 
 and entering the private passage, took up the lamp which he 
 had left there, and by its expiring light found the way to his 
 own apartment. 
 
CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 Boom ! room ! for my horse will wince 
 
 If he comes within so many yards of a prinoo ; 
 
 For to tell you true, and in rhyme, 
 
 He was foal'd in Queen Elizabeth's time ; 
 
 When the great Earl of Lester 
 
 In his castle did feast her. 
 
 —Ben Jonson, Mdsqvs of Otola. 
 
 The amusement with which Elizabeth and her court were 
 next day to be regaled was an exhibition by the true-hearted 
 men of Coventry, who were to represent the strife between 
 the English and the Danes, agreeably to a custom long pre- 
 served in their ancient borough, and warranted for truth by 
 old histories and chronicles. In this pageant, one party of 
 the townsfolk presented the Saxons and the other the Danes, 
 and set forth, both in rude rhymes and with hard blows, the 
 contentions of these two fierce nations, and the Amazonian 
 courage of the English women, who, according to the story, 
 were the principal agents in the general massacre of the 
 Danes, which took place at Hocktide, in the year of God 1012. 
 This sport, which had been long a favorite pastime of the 
 men of Coventry, had, it seems, been put down by the in- 
 fluence of some zealous clergyman of the more precise cast, 
 who chanced to have considerable influence with the magis- 
 trates. But the generality of the inhabitants had petitioned 
 the Queen that they might have their play again, and be hon- 
 ored with permission to represent it before her Highness. 
 And when the matter was canvassed in the little council 
 which usually attended the Queen for dispatch of business, 
 the proposal, although opposed by some of the stricter sort, 
 found favor in the eyes of Elizabeth, who said that such toys 
 occupied, without offense, the minds of many who, lacking 
 them, might find worse subjects of pastime; and that their 
 pastors, however commendable for learning and godliness, 
 were somewhat too sour in preaching against the pastimes of 
 their flocks; and so the pageant was permitted to proceed. 
 
 Accordingly, after a morning repast, which Master Lane- 
 ham calls an ambrosial breakfast, the principal persons of the 
 court, in attendance upon her Majesty, pressed to the Gal- 
 lery Tower, to witness the approach of the two contending 
 parties of English and Danes; and after a signal had been 
 
41« WAVEBLET NOVELS. 
 
 given, the gate which opened into the circuit of the chase 
 was thrown wide to admit them. On they came, foot and 
 horse; for some of the more ambitious burghers and yeomen 
 had put themselves into fantastic dresses, imitating knights, 
 in order to resemble the chivalry of the two different nations. 
 However, to prevent fatal accidents, they were not permitted 
 to appear on real horses, but had only license to accouter 
 themselves with those hobby-horses, as they are called, which 
 anciently formed the chief delight of a morrice-dance, and 
 which still are exhibited on the stage, in the grand battle 
 fought at the conclusion of Mr. Bayes' tragedy. The in- 
 fantry followed in similar disguises. The whole exhibition 
 was to be considered as a sort of anti-masque, or burlesque 
 of the more stately pageants, in which the nobility and gentr}^ 
 bore part in the show, and, to the best of their knowledge, 
 imitated with accuracy the personages whom they repre- 
 sented. The Hocktide play was of a different character, the 
 actors being persons of inferior degree, and their habits the 
 better fitted for the occasion the more incongruous and ridicu- 
 lous that they were in themselves. Accordingly, their array, 
 which the progress of our tale allows us no time to describe, 
 was ludicrous enough, and their weapons, though sufficiently 
 formidable to deal sound blows, were long alder-poles instead 
 of lances, and sound cudgels for swords; and for fence, both 
 cavalry and infantry were well equipped with stout head- 
 pieces and targets, both made of thick leather. 
 
 Captain Coxe, that celebrated humorist of Coventry, whose 
 library of ballads, almanacks, and penny histories, fairly 
 wrapped up in parchment, and tied round for security with a 
 piece of whipcord, remains still the envy of antiquaries, be- 
 ing himself the ingenious person under whose direction the 
 pageant had been set forth, rode valiantly on his hobby-horse 
 before the bands of English, high-trussed, saith Laneham, 
 and brandishing his long sword, as became an experienced 
 man of war, who had fought under the Queen's father, bluff 
 King Henry, at the siege of Bologne. This chieftain wa3. 
 as right and reason craved, the first to enter the lists, and, 
 passing the gallery at the head of his myrmidons, kissed the 
 hilt of his sword to the Queen, and executed at the same time 
 a gambade, the like whereof had never been practiced by two- 
 legged hobby-horse. Then passing on with all his followers 
 of cavalry and infantry, he drew them up with martial skill 
 at the opposite extremity of the bridge, or tilt-yard, until hii 
 tntagonista should be fairly prepared for the onset. 
 
KBNILWORTH, 417 
 
 This was no long interval; for the Danish cavalry and in- 
 fantry, no way inferior to the English in' number, valor, and 
 equipment, instantly arrived, with the northern bagpipe blow- 
 ing before them in token of their country, and headed by a 
 cunning master of defense, only inferior to the renowned 
 Captain Coxe, if to him, in the discipline of war. The Danes, 
 as invaders, took their station under the Gallery Tower, and 
 opposite to that of Mortimer; and, when their arrangements 
 were completely made, a signal was given for the encounter. 
 
 Their first charge upon each other was rather moderate, for 
 either party had some dread of being forced into the lake. 
 But as re-enforcements came up on either side, the encounter 
 grew from a skirmish into a blazing battle. They rushed 
 upon one another, as Master Laneham testifies, like rams in- 
 flamed by jealousy, with such furious encounter that both 
 parties were often overthrown, and the clubs and targets made 
 a most horrible clatter. In many instances that happened 
 which had been dreaded by the more experienced warriors 
 who began the day of strife. The rails which defended the 
 ledges of the bridge had been, perhaps on purpose, left but 
 slightly fastened, and gave way under the pressure of those 
 who thronged to the combat, so that the hot courage of many 
 of the combatants received a sufiicient cooling. These inci- 
 dents might have occasioned more serious damage than be- 
 came such an affray, for many of the champions who met 
 with this mischance could not swim, and those who could were 
 encumbered with thedr suits of leathern and of paper armor; 
 but the case had been provided for, and there were several 
 boats in readiness to pick up the unfortunate warriors and 
 convey them to the dry land, where, dripping and dejected, 
 they comforted themselves with the hot ale and strong waters 
 which were liberally allowed to them, without showing any 
 desire to re-enter so desperate a conflict. 
 
 Captain Coxe alone, that paragon of black-letter anti- 
 quaries, after twice experiencing, horse and man, the peril- 
 ous leap from the bridge into the lake, equal to any extremity 
 to which the favorite heroes of chivalry, whose exploits he 
 studied in an abridged form, whether Amadis, Belianis, Bevis, 
 or his own Guy of Warwick, had ever been subjected to — Cap- 
 tain Coxe, we repeat, did alone, after two such mischance*, 
 rush again into the heat of conflict, his bases and the foot- 
 cloth of his hobby-horse dropping water, and twice reani- 
 mated by voice and example the drooping spirits of the Eng- 
 lish; 60 that at length their victory over the Danish invaden 
 
418 VTA VERLET JSTOYELS. 
 
 became, as was just and reasonable, complete and decisive^ 
 Worthy he was to be rendered immortal by the pen of Ben 
 Jonson, who, fifty years afterward, deemed that a masque, 
 exhibited at Kenilworth, could be ushered in by none with so 
 much propriety as by the ghost of Captain Coxe, mounted 
 upon his redoubted hobby-horse. 
 
 These rough rural gambols may not altogether agree with 
 the reader's preconceived idea of an entertainment presented 
 before Elizabeth, in whose reign letters revived with such 
 brilliancy, and whose court, governed by a female whose 
 sense of propriety was equal to her strength of mind, was no 
 less distinguished for delicacy and refinement than her coun- 
 cils for wisdom and fortitude. But whether from the politi- 
 cal wish to seem interested in popular sports, or whether from 
 a spark o-f old Henry's rough masculine spirit, which Eliza- 
 beth sometimes displayed, it is certain the Queen laughed 
 heartily at the imitation, or rather burlesque, of chivalry 
 which was presented in the Coventry play. She called near 
 her person the Earl of Sussex and Lord Hunsdon, partly per- 
 haps to make amends to the former for the long and private 
 audiences with which she had indulged the Earl of Leicester, 
 by engaging him in conversation upon a pastime which better 
 suited his taste than those pageants that were furnished forth 
 from the stores of antiquity. The disposition which the 
 Queen showed to laugh and jest with her military leaders 
 gave the Earl of Leicester the opportunity he had been watch- 
 ing for withdrawing from the royal presence, which to the 
 court around, so well had he chosen his time, had the grace- 
 ful appearance of leaving his rival free access to the Queen's 
 person, instead of availing himself of his right as her land- 
 lord to stand perpetually betwixt others and the light of her 
 countenance. 
 
 Leicester's thoughts, however, had a far different object 
 from mere courtesy; for no sooner did he see the Queen fairly 
 engaged in conversation with Sussex and Hunsdon, behind 
 whose back stood Sir Nicholas Blount, grinning from ear to 
 ear at each word which was spoken, than, making a sign to 
 Tressilian, who, according to appointment, watched his mo- 
 tions at a little distance, he extricated himself from the press, 
 and walking toward the chase, made his way through the 
 crowds of ordinary spectators, who, with open mouth, stood 
 gazing on the battle of the English and the Danes. When he 
 had accomplished this, which was a work of some difficulty, 
 he shot another glance behind him to see that Tressilian. had 
 
KENILWORTH, 41»> 
 
 been equally successful, and as soon as he saw him also free 
 from the crowd, he led the way to a small thicket, behind 
 which stood a lackey with two horses ready saddled. He 
 flung himself on the one, and made signs to Tressilian to 
 mount the other, who obeyed without speaking a single word. 
 
 Leicester then spurred his horse, and galloped without 
 stopping until he reached a sequestered spot, environed by 
 lofty oaks, about a mile's distance from the castle, and in an 
 opposite direction from the scene to which curiosity was draw- 
 ing every spectator. He there dismounted, bound his horse 
 to a tree, and only pronouncing the words, " Here there is no 
 risk of interruption,^' laid his cloak across his saddle, and 
 drew his sword. 
 
 Tressilian imitated his example punctually, yet could not 
 forbear saying, as he drew his weapon, " My lord, as I have 
 been known to many as one who does not fear death, when 
 placed in balance with honor, methinks I may without dero- 
 gation ask, wherefore, in the name of all that is honorable, 
 your lordship has dared to offer me such a mark of disgrace 
 as places us on these terms with respect to each other? " 
 
 " If you like not such marks of my scorn," replied the earl, 
 " betake yourself instantly to your weapon, lest I repeat the 
 usage you complain of." 
 
 "It shall not need, my lord," said Tressilian. "God 
 judge betwixt us! and your blood, if you fall, be on your own 
 head." 
 
 He had scarcely completed the sentence when they in- 
 stantly closed in combat. 
 
 But Leicester, who was a perfect master of defense, among 
 all other exterior accomplishments of the time, had seen, on 
 the preceding night, enough of Tressilian's strength and skill 
 to make him fight with more caution than heretofore, and 
 prefer a secure revenge to a hasty one. For some minutes 
 they fought with equal skill and fortune, till, in a desperate 
 lounge which Leicester successfully put aside, Tressilian ex- 
 posed himself at disadvantage; and, in a subsequent attempt 
 to close, the earl forced his sword from his hand and stretched 
 him on the ground. With a grim smile, he held the point of 
 his rapier within two inches of the throat of his fallen adver- 
 sary, and placing his foot at the same time upon his breast, 
 bid him confess his villainous wrongs toward him, and pre- 
 pare for death. 
 
 "I have no villainy nor wrong toward thee to confess," 
 answered Tressilian, " and am better prepared for death than 
 
42a WAVEELEY NOVELS. 
 
 thou! Use thine advantage as thou wilt, and may God for- 
 give you! I have given you no cause for this." 
 
 "No cause!" exclaimed the earl — "no cause! But why 
 parley with such a slave? Die a liar, as thou hast lived! " 
 
 He had withdrawn his arm for the purpose of striking the 
 fatal blow, when it was suddenly seized from behind. 
 
 The earl turned in wrath to shake off the unexpected 
 obstacle, but was surprised to find that a strange-looking boy 
 had hold of his sword-arm, and clung to it with such tenacity 
 of grasp that he could not shake him off without a consider- 
 able struggle, in the course of which Tressilian had oppor- 
 tunity to rise and possess himself once more of his weapon. 
 Leicester again turned toward him with looks of unabated 
 ferocity, and the combat would have recommenced with still 
 more desperation on both sides, had not the boy clung to 
 Lord Leicester's knees, and in a shrill tone implored him to 
 listen one moment ere he prosecuted this quarrel. 
 
 " Stand up and let me go," said Leicester, " or, by Heaven, 
 I will pierce thee with my rapier! What hast thou to do to 
 bar my way to revenge? " 
 
 "Much — much!" exclaimed the undaunted boy; "since 
 my folly has been the cause of these bloody quarrels between 
 you, and perchance of worse evils. 0, if you would ever again 
 enjoy the peace of an innocent mind, if you hope again to 
 sleep in peace and unhaunted by remorse, take so much lei- 
 sure as to peruse this letter, and then do as you list." 
 
 While he spoke in this eager and earnest manner, to which 
 his singular features and voice gave a goblin-like effect, he 
 held up to Leicester a packet, secured with a long tress of 
 woman's hair, of a beautiful light-brown color. Enraged as 
 he was, nay, almost blinded with fury to see his destined re- 
 venge so strangely frustrated, the Earl of Leicester could not 
 resist this extraordinary supplicant. He snatched the letter 
 from his hand, changed color as he looked on the super- 
 scription, undid, with faltering hand, the knot which secured 
 it, glanced over the contents, and, staggering back, would 
 have fallen, had he not rested against the trunk of a tree, 
 where he stood for an instant, his eyes bent on the letter, and 
 his sword-point turned to the ground, without seeming to be 
 conscious of the presence of an antagonist toward whom he 
 had shown little mercy, and who might in turn have taken him 
 at advantage. But for such revenge Tressilian was too noble- 
 minded; he also stood still in surprise, waiting the issue of 
 this itrange fit of passion, but holding his weapon ready to 
 
KENILWORTff. 421 
 
 defend himself, in case of need, against some new and sudden 
 attack on the part of Leicester, whom he again suspected to 
 be under the influence of actual frenzy. The boy, indeed, he 
 easily recognized as his old acquaintance Dickon, whose face, 
 once seen, was scarcely to be forgotten; but how he came 
 thither at so critical a moment, why his interference was so 
 energetic, and, above all, how it came to produce so powerful 
 an effect upon Leicester, were questions which he could not 
 solve. 
 
 But the letter was of itself powerful enough to wark effects 
 yet more wonderful. It was that which the unfortunate Amy 
 had written to her husband, in which she alleged the rea- 
 sons and manner of her flight from Cumnor Place, informed 
 him of her having made her way to Kenil worth to enjoy hig 
 protection, and mentioned the circumstances which had com- 
 pelled her to take refuge in Tressilian's apartment, earnestly 
 requesting he would, without delay, assign her a more suit- 
 able asylum. The letter concluded with the most earnest 
 expressions of devoted attachment and submission to his will 
 in all things, and particularly respecting her situation and 
 place of residence, conjuring him only that she might not 
 be placed under the guardianship or restraint of Varney. 
 
 The letter dropped from Leicester's hand when he had 
 perused it. " Take my sword," he said, " Tressilian, and 
 pierce my heart, as I would but now have pierced yours! " 
 
 "My lord," said Tressilian, "you have done me great 
 wrong; but something within my breast ever whispered that 
 it was by egregious error." 
 
 " Error indeed! " said Leicester, and handed him the letter; 
 " I have been made to believe a man of honor a villain, and 
 the best and purest of creatures a false profligate. Wretched 
 boy, why comes this letter now, and where has the bearer 
 lingered ? " 
 
 " I dare not tell you, my lord," said the boy, withdrawing, 
 as if to keep beyond his reach; " but here comes one who was 
 the messenger." 
 
 Wayland at the same moment came up; and, interrogated 
 by Leicester, hastily detailed all the circumstances of his 
 escape with Amy, the fatal practices which had driven her to 
 flight, and her anxious desire to throw herself under the in- 
 stant protection of her husband, pointing out the evidence of 
 the domestics of Kenilworth, " who could not," he observed, 
 " but remember her eager inquiries after the Earl of Leicester 
 on htr first arrival." 
 
422 WAVERLE7 NOVELS. 
 
 " The villains! '' exclaimed Leicester; " but 0^ that worst. 
 of villains, Varney! and she is even now in his power! " 
 
 *^ But not, I trust in God," said Tressilian, " with any com- 
 mands of fatal import? " 
 
 " No — no — no! " exclaimed the earl hastily. " I said some- 
 thing in madness; but it was recalled — fully recalled — ^by a 
 hasty messenger; and she is now — she must now be safe." 
 
 " Yes," said Tressilian, " she must be safe, and I must be 
 assured of her safety. My own quarrel with you is ended, my 
 lord; but there is another to begin with the seducer of Amy 
 Robsart, who has screened his guilt under the cloak of the 
 infamous Varney." 
 
 *' The seducer of Amy! " replied Leicester, with a voice like 
 thunder; " say her husband! — her misguided, blinded, most 
 unworthy husband! She is as surely Countess of Leicester as 
 I am belted earl. Nor can you, sir, point out that manner of 
 justice which I will not render her at my own free will. I 
 need scarce say, I fear not your compulsion." 
 
 The generous nature of Tressilian was instantly turned 
 from consideration of anything personal to himself, and cen- 
 tered at once upon Amy's welfare. He had by no means un- 
 doubting confidence in the fluctuating resolutions of 
 Leicester, whose mind seemed to him agitated beyond the 
 government of calm reason; neither did he, notwithstanding 
 the assurances he had received, think Amy safe in the hands 
 of his dependents. " My lord," he said calmly, " I mean you 
 no offense, and am far from seeking a quarrel. But my duty 
 to Sir Hugh Robsart compels me to carry this matter in- 
 stantly to the Queen, that the countess' rank may be ac- 
 knowledged in her person." 
 
 "'You shall not need, sir," replied the earl haughtily; " do 
 not dare to interfere. No voice but Dudley's shall proclaim 
 Dudley's infamy. To Elizabeth herself will I tell it, and 
 then for Cumnor Place with the speed of life and death! " 
 
 So saying, he unbound his horse from the tree, threw him- 
 self into the saddle, and rode at full gallop toward the castle. 
 
 " Take me before you. Master Tressilian," said the boy, 
 seeing Tressilian mount in the same haste; " my tale is not all 
 told out, and I need your protection." 
 
 Tressilian complied, and followed the earl, though at a less 
 furious rate. By the way the boy confessed, with much con- 
 trition, that in resentment at Wayland's evading all his in- 
 quiries concerning the lady, after Dickon conceived he had in 
 vaxioug ways merited his confidence, he had purloined from 
 
KENILWORTH. 423 
 
 him, in revenge, the letter with which Amy had intrusted 
 him for the Earl of Leicester. His purpose was to have re- 
 stored it to him that evening, as he reckoned himself sure of 
 meeting with him, in consequence of Wayland's having to 
 perform the part of Arion in the pageant. He was indeed 
 something alarmed when he saw to whom the letter was ad- 
 dressed; but he argued that, as Leicester did not return to 
 Kenilworth until that evening, it would be again in the pos- 
 session of the proper messenger as soon as, in the nature of 
 things, it could possibly be delivered. But Wayland came 
 not to the pageant, having been in the interim expelled by 
 Lambourne from the castle, and the boy, not being able to 
 find him, or to get speech of Tressilian, and finding himself 
 in possession of a letter addressed to no less a person than the 
 Earl of Leicester, became much afraid of the consequences of 
 his frolic. The caution, and indeed the alarm, which Way- 
 land had expressed respecting Vaxney and Lambourne, led 
 him to judge that the letter must be designed for the earl's 
 own hand, and that he might prejudice the lady by giving it 
 to any of the domestics. He made an attempt or two to 
 obtain an audience with Leicester, but the singularity of his 
 features and the meanness of his appearance occasioned his 
 being always repulsed by the insolent menials whom he ap- 
 plied to for that purpose. Once, indeed, he had nearly suc- 
 ceeded, when, in prowling about, he found in the grotto the 
 casket which he knew to belong to the unlucky countess, hav- 
 ing seen it on her journey, for nothing escaped his prying 
 eye. Having strove in vain to restore it either to Tressilian 
 or the countess, he put it into the hands, as we have seen, of 
 Leicester himself, but unfortunately he did not recognize him 
 in his disguise. 
 
 At length the boy thought he was on the point of suc- 
 ceeding, when the earl came down to the lower part of the 
 hall; but just as he was about to accost him, he was prevented 
 by Tressilian. As sharp in ear as in wit, the boy heard the 
 appointment settled betwixt them to take place in the Pleas- 
 ance, and resolved to add a third to the party, in hopes that, 
 either in coming or in returning, he might find an oppor- 
 tunity of delivering the letter to Leicester; for strange stories 
 began to flit among the domestics, which alarmed him for the 
 lady's safety. Accident, however, detained Dickon a little 
 behind the earl, and, as he reached the arcade, he saw them 
 engaged in combat; in consequence of which he hastened to 
 alarm the guard, having little doubt that what bloodshed 
 
424 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 took place betwixt them might arise out of his own frolic. 
 Continuing to lurk in the portico, he heard the second ap- 
 pointment which Leicester, at parting, assigned to Tressilian, 
 and was keeping them in view during the encounter of the 
 Coventry men, when, to his surprise, he recognized Wayland 
 in the crowd, much disguised, indeed, but not sufficiently so 
 to escape the prying glance of his old comrade. They drew 
 aside out of the crowd to explain the situation to each other. 
 The boy confessed to Wayland what we would have above 
 told, and the artist, in return, informed him that his deep 
 anxiety for the fate of the unfortunate lady had brought him 
 back to the neighborhood of the castle, upon his learning 
 that morning at a village about ten miles distant that Vamey 
 and Lambourne, whose violence he dreaded, had both left 
 Kenilworth over-night. 
 
 While they spoke, they saw Leicester and Tressilian sepa- 
 rate themselves from the crowd, dogged them until they 
 mounted their horses, when the boy, whose speed of foot has 
 been before mentioned, though he could not possibly keep up 
 with them, yet arrived, as we have seen, soon enough to save 
 Treesilian's life. The boy had just finished his tale when 
 they reached the Gallery Tower. 
 
CHAPTEE XL. 
 
 High o'er the eastern steep the sun is beaming, 
 And darkness flies with her deceitful shadows ; 
 So truth prevails o'er falsehood. 
 
 —Old Flay, 
 
 As Tressilian rode along the bridge lately the scene of so 
 much riotous sport, he could not but observe that men's 
 countenances had singularly changed during the space of his 
 brief absence. The mock fight was over, but the men, still 
 habited in their masking suits, stood together in groups, like 
 the inhabitants of a city who have been just startled by some 
 strange and alarming news. 
 
 When he reached the base-court, appearances were the 
 same: domestics, retainers, and under officers stood together 
 and whispered, bending their eyes toward the windows of the 
 great hall, with looks which seemed at once alarmed and 
 mysterious. 
 
 Sir Nicholas Blount was the first person of his own par- 
 ticular acquaintance Tressilian saw, who left him no time to 
 make inquiries, but greeted him with, " God help thy heart, 
 Tressihan, thou art fitter for a clown than a courtier: thou 
 canst not attend, as becomes one who follows her Majesty. 
 Here you are called for, wished for, waited for — ^no man but 
 you will serve the turn; and hither you come with a misbe- 
 gotten brat on thy horse's neck, as if thou wert dry nurse to 
 some sucking devil, and wert just returned from airing." 
 
 " Why, what is the matter? " said Tressilian, letting go the 
 boy, who sprung to ground like a feather, and himself dis- 
 mounting at the same time. 
 
 " Why, no one knows the matter," replied Blount: " I can- 
 not smell it out myself, though I have a nose like other cour- 
 tiers. Only, my Lord of Leicester has galloped along the 
 bridge, as if he would have rode over all in his passage, de- 
 manded an audience of the Queen, and is closeted even now 
 with her and Burleigh and Walsingham; and you are called 
 for; but whether the matter be treason or worse, .no one 
 knows." 
 
 " He speaks true, by Heaven! " said Ealeigh, who that in- 
 stant appeared; "you must immediately to the Queen's 
 presence." 
 
 ^* Be not rash, Baleigh," said Blount, " remember his boots. 
 
426 WAVBMLET NOVELS. 
 
 For Heaven's sake, go to my chamber, dear Tressilian, and 
 don my new bloom-colored silken hose; I have worn them but 
 twice." 
 
 " Pshaw! " answered Tressilian; " do thou take care of this 
 boy, Blount; be kind to him, and look he escapes you not — 
 miaeh depends on him." 
 
 So saying, he followed Ealeigh hastily, leaving honest 
 Blount with the bridle of his horse in one hand and the boy 
 in the other. 
 
 Blount gave a long look after him. "Nobody," he said, 
 " calls me to these mysteries; and he leaves me here to play 
 horse-keeper and child-keeper at once. I could excuse the 
 one, for I love a good horse naturally; but to be plagued with 
 a bratchet whelp! Whence come ye, my fair-favored little 
 gossip?" 
 
 " From the Fens," answered the boy. 
 
 " And what didst thou learn there, forward imp? " 
 
 " To catch gulls, with their webbed feet and yellow stock- 
 ings," said the boy. 
 
 " Umph! " said Blount, looking down on his own immense 
 roses. " Nay, then, the devil take him asks thee more ques- 
 tions." 
 
 Meantime, Tressilian traversed the full length of the great 
 hall, in which the astonished courtiers formed various groups, 
 and were whispering mysteriously together, while all kept 
 their eyes fixed on the door which led from the upper end of 
 the hall into the Queen's withdrawing-apartment. Ealeigh 
 pointed to the door. Tressilian knocked, and was instantly 
 admitted. Many a neck was stretched to gain a view into 
 the interior of the apartment; but the tapestry wliich covered 
 the door on the inside was dropped too suddenly to admit the 
 slightest gratification of curiosity. 
 
 Upon entrance, Tressilian found himself, not without a 
 strong palpitation of heart, in the presence of Elizabeth, who 
 was walking to and fro in a violent agitation, which she 
 seemed to scorn to conceal, while two or three of her most 
 sage and confidential counselors exchanged anxious looks 
 with each other, but delayed speaking till her wrath had 
 abated. Before the empty chair of state in which she had 
 been seated, and which was half pushed aside by the violence 
 with which she had started from it, knelt Leicester, his arms 
 crossed and his brows bent on the ground, still and motionless 
 as the efiigies upon a sepulcher. Beside him stood the Lord 
 Shrewsbury, then Earl Marshal of England, holding his baton 
 
KENILWORTH. 427 
 
 of office; the earl's sword was unbuckled, and lay before him 
 on the floor. 
 
 " Ho, sir," said the Queen, coming close up to Tressilian, 
 and stamping on the floor with the action and manner of 
 Henry himself; ^^ you knew of this fair work — you are an 
 accompHce in this deception which has been practiced on us 
 — you have been a main cause of our doing injustice? " 
 Tressilian dropped on his knee before the Queen, his good 
 sense showing him the risk of attempting any defense at that 
 moment of irritation. " Art dumb, sirrah? " she continued; 
 " thou know'st of this affair, dost thou not? " 
 
 "Not, gracious madam, that this poor lady was Countess 
 of Leicester." 
 
 " Nor shall anyone know her for such," said Elizabeth. 
 " Death of my life! Countess of Leicester! I say Dame Amy 
 Dudley; and well if she have not cause to write herself widow 
 of the traitor Eobert Dudley." 
 
 " Madam," said Leicester, " do with me what it may be 
 your will to do, but work no injury on this gentleman; he 
 hath in no way deserved it." 
 
 " And will he be the better for thy intercession," said the 
 Queen, leaving Tressilian, who slowly arose, and rushing to 
 Leicester, who continued kneeling — " the better for thy inter- 
 cession, thou doubly false — thou doubly forsworn — of thy 
 intercession, whose villainy hath made me ridiculous to my 
 subjects and odious to myself? I could tear out mine eyes 
 for their blindness! " 
 
 Burleigh here ventured to interpose. 
 
 " Madam," he said, " remember that you are a queen — 
 Queen of England — mother of your people. Give not way 
 to this wild storm of passion." 
 
 Elizabeth turned round to him, while a tear actually 
 twinkled in her proud and angry eye. " Burleigh," she said, 
 "thou art a statesman; thou dost not, thou canst not, com- 
 prehend half the scorn, half the misery, that man has poured 
 on me! " 
 
 With the utmost caution, with the deepest reverence, Bur- 
 leigh took her hand at the moment he saw her heart was at 
 the fullest, and led her aside to an oriel window, apart from 
 the others. 
 
 " Madam," he said, " I am a statesman, but I am also a man 
 — a man already grown old in your councils, who have not, 
 and cannot have, a wish on earth but your glory and happi- 
 ness; I pray you to be composed." 
 
428 WAVBBLET NOVELS. 
 
 "Ah, Burleigh/' said Elizabeth, "thou little knowest ^" 
 
 Here her tears fell over her cheeks in despite of her. 
 
 " I do — I do know, my honored sovereign. Oh, beware 
 that you lead not others to guess that which they know not! " 
 
 " Ha! " said Elizabeth, pausing as if a new train of thought 
 had suddenly shot across her brain. " Burleigh, thou art right 
 — thou art right — anything but disgrace — anything but a 
 confession of weakness — anything rather than seem the 
 cheated — slighted 'Sdeath! to think on it is distrac- 
 tion! '' 
 
 " Be but yourself, my Queen," said Burleigh; " and soar 
 far above a weakness which no Englishman will ever believe 
 his Elizabeth could have entertained, unless the violence of 
 her disappointment carries a sad conviction to his bosom.'' 
 
 "What weakness, my lord?" said Elizabeth haughtily; 
 " would you too insinuate that the favor in which I held yon- 
 der proud traitor derived its source from aught " But 
 
 here she could no longer sustain the proud tone which she 
 had assumed, and again softened as she said, "But why 
 should I strive to deceive even thee, my good and wise 
 servant? " 
 
 Burleigh stooped to kiss her hand with affection, and — rare 
 in the annals of courts — a tear of true sympathy dropped 
 from the eye of the minister on the hand of his sovereign. 
 
 It is probable that the consciousness of possessing this 
 sympathy aided Elizabeth in supporting her mortification 
 and suppressing her extrerae resentment; but she was still 
 more moved by fear that her passion should betray to the 
 public the affront and the disappointment which, alike as a 
 woman and a queen, she was so anxious to conceal. She 
 turned from Burleigh, and sternly paced the hall till her 
 features had recovered their usual dignity and her mien its 
 wonted stateliness of regular motion. 
 
 " Our sovereign is her noble self once more," whispered 
 Burleigh to Walsingham; "mark what she does, and take 
 heed you thwart her not." 
 
 She then approached Leicester, and said, with calmness, 
 "My Ivord Shrewsbury, we discharge you of your prisoner. 
 My Lord of Leicester, rise and take up your sword; a quarter 
 of an hour's restraint, under the custody of our marshal, my 
 lord, is, we think, no high penance for months of falsehood 
 practiced upon us. We will now hear the progress of this 
 affair." She then seated herself in her chair, and said, 
 " You, Tressilian, step forward and say what you know." 
 
KENILWORTH. 429 
 
 Tressilian told his story generously, suppressing as much as 
 he could what affected Leicester, and saying nothing of their 
 having twice actually fought together. It is very prohahlc 
 that, in doing so, he did the earl good service; for had the 
 Queen at that instant found anything on account of which 
 ^e might vent her wrath upon him, without laying open 
 sentiments of which she was ashamed, it might have fared 
 hard with him. She paused when Tressilian had finished 
 his tale. 
 
 "We will take that Wayland,'' she said, "into our own 
 service, and place the hoy in our secretary office for instruc- 
 tion, that he may in future use discretion toward letters. 
 For you, Tressilian, you did wrong in not communicating 
 the whole truth to us, and your promise not to do so was hoth 
 imprudent and undutiful. Yet, having given your word to 
 this unhappy lady, it was the part of a man and a gentleman 
 to keep it; and, on the whole, we esteem you for the charac- 
 ter you have sustained in this matter. My Lord of Leicester, 
 it is now your turn to tell us the truth, an exercise to which 
 you seem of late to have heen too much a stranger." 
 
 Accordingly, she extorted, by successive questions, the 
 whole history of his first acquaintance with Amy Robsart — 
 their marriage — his jealousy — the causes on which it was 
 founded, and many particulars besides. Leicester's confes- 
 sion, for such it might be called, was wrenched from him 
 piecemeal, yet was upon the whole accurate, excepting that 
 he totally omitted to mention that he had, by implication or 
 otherwise, assented to Vamey's designs upon the life of his 
 countess. Yet the consciousness of this was what at that 
 moment lay nearest to his heart; and although he trusted in 
 great measure to the very positive counter-orders which he 
 had sent by Lamboume, it was his purpose to set out for 
 Cumnor Place in person as soon as he should be dismissed 
 from the presence of the Queen, who, he concluded, would 
 presently leave Kenilworth. 
 
 But the earl reckoned without his host. It is true, his 
 presence and his communications were gall and wormwood to 
 his once partial mistress. But, barred from every other and 
 more direct mode of revenge, the Queen perceived that she 
 gave her false suitor torture by these inquiries, and dwelt on 
 them for that reason, no more regarding the pain which she 
 herself experienced than the savage cares for the searing of 
 his own hands by grasping the hot pincers with which he 
 tears the flesh of his captive enemy. 
 
43€ WAVEBLET NOVELS. 
 
 At lengtn^ however, the haughty lord, like a deer that turns 
 to bay, gave intimation that his patience was failing. 
 " Madam," he said, " I have been much to blame, more than 
 even your just resentment has expressed. Yet, madam, let 
 me say, that my guilt, if it be unpardonable, was not unpro- 
 voked; and that, if beauty and condescending dignity could 
 seduce the frail heart of a human being, I might plead both 
 as the causes of my concealing this secret from your Majesty." 
 
 The Queen was so much struck by this reply, which 
 Leicester took care should be heard by no one but herself, 
 that she was for the moment silenced, and the ear had the 
 temerity to pursue his advantage. " Your Grace, who has 
 pardoned so much, will excuse my throwing myself on your 
 royal mercy for those expressions which were yester-moming 
 accounted but a light offense." 
 
 The Queen fixed her eyes on him while she replied, " Now, 
 by Heaven, my lord, thy efProntery passes the bounds of be- 
 lief as well as patience! But it shall avail thee nothing. 
 What, ho! my lords, come all and hear the news. My Lord 
 of Leicester's stolen marriage has cost me a husband and Eng- 
 land a king. His lordship is patriarchal in his tastes: one 
 wife at a time was insufficient, and he designed us the honor 
 of his left hand. Now, is not this too insolent — that I could 
 not grace him with a few marks of court favor, but he must 
 presume to think my hand and crown at his disposal? You, 
 however, think better of me; and I can pity this ambitious 
 man, as I could a child whose bubble of soap has burst be- 
 tween his hands. We go to the presence-chamber. My 
 Lord of Leicester, we command your close attendance on us." 
 
 All was eager expectation in the hall, and what was the 
 universal astonishment when the Queen said to those next 
 her, " The revels of Kenilworth are not yet exhausted, my 
 lords and ladies: we are to solemnize the noble owner's mar- 
 riage." 
 
 There was an universal expression of surprise. 
 
 " It is true, on our royal word," said the Queen; " he hath 
 kept this a secret even from us, that he might surprise us with 
 it at this very place and time. I see you are dying of curi- 
 osity to know the happy bride. It is Amy Robsart, the same 
 who, to make up the May-game yesterday, figured in the 
 pageant as the wife of his servant Yamey." 
 
 " For God's sake, madam," said the earl, approaching her 
 with a mixture of humility, vexation, and shame in his coun- 
 tenance, and speaking so low as to be heard by no one else, 
 
KENILWORTH, 481 
 
 ** take my head, as you threatened in your anger, and spare 
 me these taunts! Urge not a falling man — tread not on a 
 crushed wonn." 
 
 " A worm, my lord! '^ said the Queen, in the same tone; 
 " nay, a snake is the nobler reptile, and the more exact simili- 
 tude — the frozen snake you wot of, which was warmed in a 
 certain bosom " 
 
 " For your own sake — for mine, madam," said the earl — 
 " while there is yet some reason left in me " 
 
 " Speak aloud, my lord," said Elizabeth, " and at farther 
 distance, so please you; your breath thaws our ruff. What 
 have you to ask of us? " 
 
 " Permission," said the unfortunate earl humbly, " to 
 travel to Cumnor Place." 
 
 " To fetch home your bride belike? Why, aye, that is but 
 right, for, as we have heard, she is indifferently cared for 
 there. But, my lord, you go not in person: we have counted 
 upon passing certain days in this castle of Kenilworth, and it 
 were slight courtesy to leave us without a landlord during our 
 residence here. Under your favor, we cannot think to incur 
 such disgrace in the eyes of our subjects. Tressilian shall go 
 to Cumnor Place instead of you, and with him some gentle- 
 man who hath been sworn of our chamber, lest my Lord of 
 Leicester should be again jealous of his old rival. Whom 
 wouldst thou have to be in commission with thee, Tres- 
 silian?" 
 
 Tressilian, with humble deference, suggested the name of 
 Ealeigh. 
 
 " Why, aye," said the Queen; " so God ha' me, thou hast 
 made a good choice. He is a young knight besides, and to 
 deliver a lady from prison is an appropriate first adventure. 
 Cumnor Place is little better than a prison, you are to know, 
 my lords and ladies. Besides, there are certain faitours there 
 whom we would willingly have in fast keeping. You will 
 furnish them, Master Secretary, with the warrant necessary 
 to secure the bodies of Kichard Varney and the foreign 
 Alasco, dead or alive. Take a sufficient force with you, gen- 
 tlemen; bring the lady here in all honor; lose no time, and 
 God be with you! " 
 
 They bowed, and left the presence. 
 
 Who shall describe how the rest of that day was spent at 
 Kenilworth? The Queen, who seemed to have remained 
 there for the sole purpose of mortif)dng and taunting the 
 Earl of Iveicester, showed herself as skillful in tliat female art 
 
48S WAVERLEY NOVELS, 
 
 of vengeance as she was in the science of wisely governing 
 her people. The train of state soon caught the signal, and, 
 as he walked among his own splendid preparations, the Lord 
 of Kenilworth, in his own castle, already experienced the lot 
 of a disgraced courtier, in the slight regard and cold manners 
 of alienated friends, and the ill-concealed triumph of avowed 
 and open enemies. Sussex, from his natural military frank- 
 ness of disposition, Burleigh and Walsingham, from their 
 penetrating and prospective sagacity, and some of the ladies, 
 from the compassion of their sex, were the only persons in 
 the crowded court who retained toward him the countenance 
 they had borne in the morning. 
 
 So much had Leicester been accustomed to consider court 
 favor as the principal object of his life, that all other sensa- 
 tions were, for the time, lost in the agony which his haughty 
 spirit felt at the succession of petty insults and studied neg- 
 lects to which he had been subjected; but when he retired to 
 his own chamber for the night, that long fair tress of hair 
 which had once secured Amy's letter fell under his observa- 
 tion, and, with the influence of a counter-charm, awakened 
 his heart to nobler and more natural feelings. He kissed it 
 a thousand times; and while he recollected that he had it 
 always in his power to shun the mortifications which he had 
 that day undergone, by retiring into a dignified and even 
 prince-like seclusion with the beautiful and beloved partner 
 of his future life, he felt that he could rise above the revenge 
 which Elizabeth had condescended to take. 
 
 Accordingly, on the following day, the whole conduct of 
 the earl displayed so much dignified equanimity; he seemed 
 so solicitous about the accommodations and amusements of 
 his guests, yet so indifferent to their personal demeanor to- 
 ward him; so respectfully distant to the Queen, yet so patient 
 of her harassing displeasure, that Elizabeth changed her man- 
 ner to him, and, though cold and distant, ceased to offer him 
 any direct affront. She intimated also, with some sharpness, 
 to others around her, who thought they were consulting her 
 pleasure in showing a neglectful conduct to the earl, that, 
 while they remained at Kenilworth, they ought to show the 
 civility due from guests to the lord of the castle. In short, 
 matters were so far changed in twenty-four hours that some 
 of the more experienced and sagacious courtiers foresaw a 
 strong possibility of Leicester's restoration to favor, and regu- 
 lated their demeanor toward him, as those who might one 
 day claim merit for not having deserted him in adversity. It 
 
EENILWORTH. 488 
 
 is time, however, to leave these intrigues, and follow Tres- 
 silian and Ealeigh on their journey. 
 
 The troop consisted of six persons; for, besides Wayland, 
 they had in company a royal pursuivant and two stout serv- 
 ing-men. All were well armed, and traveled as fast as it 
 was possible with Justice to their horses, which had a long 
 journey before them. They endeavored to procure some 
 tidings as they rode along of Vamey and his party, but could 
 hear none, as they had traveled in the dark. At a small vil- 
 lage about twelve miles from Kenilworth, where they gave 
 some refreshment to their horses, a poor clergyman, the 
 curate of the place, came out of a small cottage, aud en- 
 treated any of the company who might know aught of sur- 
 gery to look in for an instant on a dying man. 
 
 The empiric Wayland undertook to do his best, and as the 
 curate conducted him to the spot, he learned that the maji 
 had been found on the highroad, about a mile from the vil- 
 lage, by laborers, as they were going to their work on the pre- 
 ceding morning, and the curate had given him shelter in his 
 house. He had received a gun-shot wound which seemed to 
 be obviously mortal, but whether in a brawl or from robbers 
 they could not learn, as he was in a fever, and spoke nothing 
 connectedly. Wayland entered the dark and lowly apart- 
 ment, and no sooner had the curate drawn aside the curtain 
 than he knew in the distorted features of the patient the 
 countenance of Michael Lamboume. Under pretense of 
 seeking something which he wanted, Wayland hastily ap- 
 prised his fellow-travelers of this extraordinary circumstance; 
 and both Tressilian and Raleigh, full of boding apprehen- 
 sions, hastened to the curate's house to see the dying man. 
 
 The wretch was by this time in the agonies of death, from 
 which a much better surgeon than Wayland could not have 
 rescued him, for the bullet had passed clear through his body. 
 He was sensible, however, at least in part, for he knew Tres- 
 silian, and made signs that he wished him to stoop over his 
 bed. Tressilian did so, and after some inarticulate murmurs, 
 in which the names of Vamey and Lady Leicester were alone 
 distinguishable, Lamboume bade him "Make haste, or he 
 would come too late." It was in vain Tressilian urged the 
 patient for farther information; he seemed to become in some 
 degree delirious, and when he again made a signal to attract 
 Tressilian's attention, it was only for the purpose of desiring 
 him to inform his uncle, Giles Gosling of the Black Beax, 
 " That he had died without his shoes after all." A eonvul- 
 
484 WA VBBLET NO VEL8. 
 
 sion verified his words a few minutes after, and the travelers 
 derived nothing from having met with him save the obscure 
 fears concerning the fate of the countess which his dying 
 words were calculated to convey, and which induced them to 
 urge their journey with the utmost speed, pressing horses in 
 the Queen's name when those which they rode became unfit 
 for service. 
 
CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 The death-bell thrice was heard to ring, 
 
 And aerial voice was heard to call ; 
 Thrice the raven flapp'd its wing 
 
 Around the towers of Gumnor Hall. 
 
 — MlCKLS. 
 
 We are now to return to that part of the story where we 
 intimated that Vamey, possessed of the authority of the Earl 
 of Leicester, and of the Queen^s permission to the same effect, 
 hastened to secure himself against discovery of his perfidy hy 
 removing the countess from Kenil worth Castle. He had pro- 
 posed to set forth early in the morning; but reflecting that 
 the earl might relent in the interim, and seek another inter- 
 view with the countess, he resolved to prevent, by immediate 
 departure, all chance of what would probably have ended in 
 his detection and ruin. For this purpose he called for Lam- 
 bourne, and was exceedingly incensed to find that his trusty 
 attendant was abroad on some ramble in the neighboring 
 village or elsewhere. As his return was expected, Sir Eich- 
 ard commanded that he should prepare himself for attending 
 him on an immediate journey, and follow him in case he re- 
 turned after his departure. 
 
 In the meanwhile, Vamey used the ministry of a servant 
 called Robin Tider, one to whom the mysteries of Cumnor 
 Place were already in some degree known, as he had been 
 there more than once in attendance on the earl. To this 
 man, whose character resembled that of Lamboume, though 
 he was neither quite so prompt nor altogether so profligate, 
 Vamey gave command to have three horses saddled and to 
 prepare a horse-litter, and have them in readiness at the 
 postern gate. The natural enough excuse of his lady's in- 
 sanity, which was now universally believed, accounted for the 
 secrecy with which she was to be removed from the castle, 
 and he reckoned on the same apology in case the unfortunate 
 Amy's resistance or screams should render such necessary. 
 The agency of Anthony Foster was indispensable, and that 
 Vamey now went to secure. 
 
 This person, naturally of a sour, unsocial disposition, and 
 somewhat tired, besides, with his joumey from Cumnor to 
 Warwickshire, in order to bring the news of the countess' 
 
 4u; 
 
486 WAVERLET N0VEL8. 
 
 escape, had early extracted himself from the crowd of 
 wassailers, and betaken himself to his chamber, where he lay 
 asleep, when Vamey, completely equipped for traveling, and 
 with a dark-lantern in his hand, entered his apartment. He 
 paused an instant to listen to what his associate was murmur- 
 ing in his sleep, and could plainly distinguish the words, 
 " * Ave Maria, ora pro nobis '; no — it runs not so. Deliver us 
 from evil — aye, so it goes.'* 
 
 " Praying in his sleep," said Vamey, " and confounding his 
 old and new devotions. He must have more need of prayer 
 ere I am done with him. What ho! holy man — most blessed 
 penitent! Awake — awake! The devil has not discharged 
 you from service yet." 
 
 As Vamey at the same time shook the sleeper by the arm, 
 it changed the current of his ideas, and he roared out, 
 " Thieves! — thieves! I will die in defense of my gold — my 
 hard- won gold, that has cost me so dear. Where is Janet? 
 Is Janet safe?" 
 
 " Safe enough, thou bellowing fool! " said Varney; " art 
 thou not ashamed of thy clamor? " 
 
 Foster by this time was broad awake, and, sitting up in his 
 bed, asked Vamey the meaning of so untimely a visit. " It 
 augurs nothing good," he added. 
 
 *' A false prophecy, most sainted Anthony," returned Var- 
 ney: "it augurs that the hour is come for converting thy 
 leasehold into copyhold. What say'st thou to that ? " 
 
 " Hadst thou told me this in broad day," said Foster, " I 
 had rejoiced; but at this dead hour, and by this dim light, aad 
 looking on thy pale face, which is a ghastly contradiction to 
 thy light words, I cannot but rather think of the work that 
 is to be done than the guerdon to be gained by it." 
 
 "Why, thou fool, it is but to escort thy charge back to 
 Cumnor Place." 
 
 "Is that indeed all?" said Foster; "thou look'st deadly 
 pale, and thou art not moved by trifles — is that indeed 
 all?" 
 
 " Aye, that — and maybe a trifle more," answered Varney. 
 
 " Ah, that trifle more! " said Foster; " still thou look'st 
 paler and paler." 
 
 " Heed not my countenance," said Varney, " you see it by 
 this wretched light. Up and be doing:, man. Think of 
 Cumnor Place, thine own proper copyhold. Why, thou mayst 
 found a weekly lectureship, besides endowing Janet like a 
 baron'g daughter. Seventy pounds and odd." 
 
KENILWORTK 43^/ 
 
 "Seventy-nine pounds, five shillings, and fivepence half- 
 penny, besides the value of the wood,^' said Foster; " and I am 
 to have it all as copyhold? " 
 
 " All, man — squirrels and all: no gypsy shall cut the value 
 of a broom, no boy so much as take a bird's nest, without 
 paying thee a quittance. Aye, that is right — don thy mat- 
 ters as fast as possible; horses and everything are ready, all 
 save that accursed villain Lambourne, who is out on some in- 
 fernal gambol." 
 
 " Aye, Sir Eichard," said Foster, " you would take no ad- 
 vice. I ever told you that drunken profligate would fail you 
 at need. Now, I could have helped you to a sober young 
 man." 
 
 "What, some slow-spoken, long-breathed brother of the 
 congregation? Why, we shall have use for such also, man. 
 Heaven be praised, we shall lack laborers of every kind. Aye, 
 that is right — forget not your pistols. Come now, and let us 
 away." 
 
 " Whither? " said Anthony. 
 
 " To my lady's chamber, and, mind, she must along with us. 
 Thou art not a fellow to be startled by a shriek? " 
 
 " Not if Scripture reason can be rendered for it; and it is 
 written, ' Wives, obey your husbands.' But will my lord's 
 commands bear us out if we use violence? " 
 
 "Tush, man! here is his signet," answered Vamey; and 
 having thus silenced the objections of his associate, they went 
 together to Lord Hunsdon's apartments, and, acquainting 
 the sentinel with their purpose, as a matter sanctioned by the 
 Queen and the Earl of Leicester, they entered the chamber 
 of the unfortunate countess. 
 
 The horror of Amy may be conceived when, starting from 
 a broken slumber, she saw at her bedside Vamey, the man on 
 earth she most feared and hated. It was even a consolation 
 to see that he was not alone, though she had so much reason 
 to dread his sullen companion. 
 
 " Madam," said Varney, " there is no time for ceremony. 
 My Lord of Leicester, having fully considered the exigencies 
 of the time, sends you his orders immediately to accompany 
 us on our return to Cumnor Place. See, here is his signet, 
 in token of his instant and pressing commands." 
 
 " It is false! " said the countess; " thou hast stolen the war- 
 rant — thou, who art capable of every villainy, from the 
 blackest to the basest! " 
 
 " It is TEUE, madam," replied Vamey; " so true, that if you 
 
438 WAVERLBT NOVELS. 
 
 do not instantly arise and prepare to attend us, we must com- 
 pel you to obey our orders/^ 
 
 " Co-mpel! thou darest not put it to that issue, base as thou 
 art," exclaimed the unhappy countess. 
 
 " That remains to be proved, madam," said Vamey, yf\io 
 had determined on intimidation as the only means of sub- 
 duing her high spirit; " if you put me to it, you will find me 
 a rough groom of the chamber." 
 
 It was at this threat that Amy screamed so fearfully that, 
 had it not been for the received opinion of her insanity, she 
 would quickly have had Lord Hunsdon and others to her aid. 
 Perceiving, however, that her cries were vain, she appealed 
 to Foster in the most affecting terms, conjuring him, as his 
 daughter Janet's honor and purity was dear to him, not to 
 permit her to be treated with unwomanly violence. 
 
 " Why, madam, wives must obey their husbands — there's 
 Scripture warrant for it," said Foster; " and if you will dress 
 yourself and come with us patiently, there's no one shall lay 
 finger on you while I can draw a pistol-trigger." 
 
 Seeing no help arrive, and comforted even by the dogged 
 language of Foster, the countess promised to arise and dress 
 herself, if they would agree to retire from the room. Varney 
 at the same time assured her of all safety and honor while in 
 their hands, and promised that he himself would not ap- 
 proach her, since his presence was so displeasing. Her hus- 
 band, he added, would be at Cunmor Place within twenty- 
 four hours after they reached it. 
 
 Somewhat comforted by this assurance, upon which, how- 
 ever, she saw little reason to rely, the unhappy Amy made her 
 toilet by the assistance of the lantern, which they left with 
 her when they quitted the apartment. 
 
 Weeping, trembling, and praying, the unfortunate lady 
 dressed herself — with sensations how different from the days 
 in which she was wont to decorate herself in all the pride of 
 conscious beauty! She endeavored to delay the completing 
 of her dress as long as she could, until, terrified by the impa- 
 tience of Vamey, she was obliged to declare herself ready to 
 attend them. 
 
 When they were about to move, the countess clung to 
 Foster with such an appearance of terror at Varney's ap- 
 proach, that the latter protested to her, with a deep oath, 
 viiat he had no intention whatever of even coming near her. 
 **If you do but consent to execute your husband's will in 
 ^etness, you shall," he said, " see but little of me. I will 
 
KENILWORTK 439 
 
 leave you undisturbed to the care of the usher whom your 
 good taste prefers." 
 
 "My husband's will! " she exclaimed. "But it is the will of 
 God, and let that be sufficient to me. I will go with Master 
 Foster as unresistingly as ever did a literal sacrifice. He is a 
 father at least, and will have decency if not humanity. For 
 thee, Varney, were it my latest word, thou art an equal 
 stranger to both." 
 
 Varney replied only, she was at liberty to choose, and 
 walked some paces before them to show the way; while, half 
 leaning on Foster and half carried by him, the countess was 
 transported from Saintlowe's Tower to the postern gate, 
 where Tider waited with the litter and horses. 
 
 The countess was placed in the former without resistance. 
 She saw with some satisfaction that, while Foster and Tider 
 rode close by the litter, which the latter conducted, the 
 dreaded Varney lingered behind, and was soon lost in the 
 darkness. A little while she strove, as the road winded round 
 the verge of the lake, to keep sight of those stately towers 
 which called her husband lord, and which still, in some places, 
 sparkled with lights, where wassailers were yet reveling. But 
 when the direction of the road rendered this no longer possi- 
 ble, she drew back her head, and, sinking down in the litter, 
 recommended herself to the care of Providence. 
 
 Besides the desire of inducing the countess to proceed 
 quietly on her journey, Varney had it also in view to have an 
 interview with Lamboume, by whom he every moment ex- 
 pected to be joined, without the presence of any witnesses. 
 He knew the character of this man — prompt, bloody, resolute, 
 and greedy — and judged him the most fit agent he could em- 
 ploy in his farther designs. But ten miles of their journey 
 had been measured ere he heard the hasty clatter of horse's 
 hoofs behind him, and was overtaken by Michael Lam- 
 bourne. 
 
 Fretted as he was with his absence, Varney received his 
 profligate servant with a rebuke of unusual bitterness. 
 " Drunken villain," he said, " thy idleness and debauched 
 folly will stretch a halter ere it be long; and, for me, I care 
 not how soon! " 
 
 This style of objurgation, Lamboume, who was elated to 
 an unusual degree, not only by an extraordinary cup of wine, 
 but by the sort of confidential interview he had just had with 
 the earl, and the secret of which he had made himself master, 
 did not receive with his wonted humility. "He would 
 
440 WAVEBLET NOVELS, 
 
 take no insolence of language," he said, "from the best 
 knight that ever wore spurs. Lord Leicester had detained 
 him on some business of import, and that was enough for 
 Varney, who was hut a servant like himself/^ 
 
 Vamey was not a little surprised at his unusual tone of 
 insolence; but, ascribing it to liquor, suffered it to pass as if 
 unnoticed, and then began to tamper with Lambourne touch- 
 ing his willingness to aid in removing out of the Earl of 
 Leicester's way an obstacle to a rise which would put it in 
 his power to reward his trusty followers to their utmost wish. 
 And upon Michael Lambourne's seeming ignorant what was 
 meant, he plainly indicated " the litter-load, yonder," as the 
 impediment which he desired should be removed. 
 
 "Look you. Sir Richard, and so forth," said Michael, 
 "some are wiser than some, that is one thing, and some are 
 worse than some, that's another. I know my lord's mind on 
 this matter better than thou, for he hath trusted me fully in 
 the matter. Here are his mandates, and his last words were, 
 ^ Michael Lambourne ' — for his lordship speaks to me as a 
 gentleman of the sword, and useth not the words * drunken 
 villain,' or such-like phrases of those who know not how to 
 bear new dignities — * Varney,' says he, * must pay the utmost 
 respect to my countess. I trust to you for looking to it, 
 Lambourne,' says his lordship, * and you must bring back my 
 signet from him peremptorily.'" 
 
 "Aye," replied Vamey, "said he so indeed? You know 
 all, then?" 
 
 " All — all, and you were as wise to make a friend of me 
 while the weather is fair betwixt us." 
 
 " And was there no one present," said Varney, " when my 
 lord so spoke? " 
 
 " Not a breathing creature," replied Lambourne. " Think 
 you my lord would trust anyone with such matters save an 
 approved man of action like myself? " 
 
 " Most true," said Vamey; and, making a pause, he looked 
 forward on the moonlight road. They were traversing a wide 
 and open heath. The litter, being at least a mile before 
 them, was both out of sight and hearing. He looked behind^ 
 and there was an expanse, lighted by the moonbeams, without 
 one human being in sight. He resumed his speech to Lam- 
 bourne: "And will you turn upon your master, who has i^i- 
 troduced you to this career of court-like favor — whose ap- 
 prentice you have been, Michael — who has taught you the 
 depths and shallows of court intrigue? " 
 
KENILWORTH, 441 
 
 '^ Michael not me! '' said Lamboume; " I have a name will 
 brook a master before it as well as another; and as to the rest, 
 if I have been an apprentice, my indenture is out, and I am 
 resolute to set up for myself/' 
 
 " Take thy quittance first, thou fool! " said Vamey; and 
 with a pistol, which he had for some time held in his hand, 
 fihot Lamboume through the body. 
 
 The wretch fell from his horse without a single groan; and 
 Vamey, dismounting, rifled his pockets, turning out the lin- 
 ing, that it might appear he had fallen by robbers. He 
 secured the earl's packet, which was his chief object, but he 
 also took Lamboume's purse, containing some goM pieces, 
 the relics of what his debauchery had left him, and from a 
 singular combination of feelings, carried it in his hand only 
 the length of a small river which crossed the road, into which 
 he threw it as far as he could fling. Such are the strange 
 remnants of conscience which remain after she seems to- 
 tally subdued, that this cruel and remorseless man would 
 have felt himself degraded had he pocketed the few 
 pieces belonging to the wretch whom he had thus ruth- 
 lessly slain. 
 
 The murderer reloaded his pistol, after cleansing the lock 
 and barrel from the appearances of late explosion, and rode 
 calmly after the litter, satisfying himself that he had so 
 adroitly removed a troublesome witness to many of his in- 
 trigues, and the bearer of mandates which he had no inten- 
 tion to obey, and which, therefore, he was desirous it should 
 be thought had never reached his hand. 
 
 The remainder of the journey was made with a degree of 
 speed which showed the little care they had for the health 
 of the unhappy countess. They paused only at places where 
 all was under their command, and where the tale they were 
 prepared to tell of the insane Lady Vamey would have ob- 
 tained ready credit had she made an attempt to appeal to the 
 compassion of the few persons admitted to see her. But Amy 
 saw no chance of obtaining a hearing from any to whom she 
 had an opportunity of addressing herself, and, besides, was 
 too terrified for the presence of Varney to violate the implied 
 condition under which she was to travel free from his com- 
 pany. The authority of Vamey, often so used during the 
 earl's private journeys to Cumnor, readily procured relays of 
 horses where wanted, so that they approached Cumnor Place 
 upon the night after they left Kenilworth. 
 
 At this period of the journey, Vamey cam© up to the r««r 
 
442 WAVERLET NOVEL& 
 
 of the litter, as he had done before repeatedly during their 
 progress, and asked, "What does she?" 
 
 " She sleeps," said Foster. " I would we were home; her 
 strength is exhausted." 
 
 " Rest will restore her," answered Vamey. " She shall 
 soon sleep sound and long; we must consider how to lodge her 
 in safety." 
 
 " In her own apartments, to be sure," said Foster. " T 
 have sent Janet to her aunt's, with a proper rebuke, and the 
 old women are truth itself, for they hate this lady cordially." 
 
 " We will not trust them, however, friend Anthony," said 
 Vamey; " we must secure her in that stronghold where you 
 keep your gold." 
 
 " My gold! " said Anthony, much alarmed; " why, what 
 gold have I ? Grod help me, I have no gold — I would I had." 
 
 " Now, marry hang thee, thou stupid brute, who thinks of, 
 or cares for, thy gold? If I did, could I not find an hundred 
 better ways to come at it? In one word, thy bedchamber, 
 which thou hast fenced so curiously, must be her place of 
 seclusion; and thou, thou hind, shalt press her pillows of 
 down. I dare say the earl will never ask after the rich furni- 
 ture of these four rooms." 
 
 This last consideration rendered Foster tractable; he only 
 asked permission to ride before, to make matters ready, and, 
 spurring his horse, he posted before the litter, while, Vamey 
 falling about threescore paces behind, it remained only at- 
 tended by Tider. 
 
 When they had arrived at Cunmor Place, the countess 
 asked eagerly for Janet, and showed much alarm when in- 
 formed that she was no longer to have the attendance of that 
 amiable girl. 
 
 " My daughter is dear to me, madam," said Foster gruffly; 
 " and I desire not that she should get the court tricks of lying 
 and 'scaping; somewhat too much of that has she learned 
 already, an it please your ladyship." 
 
 The countess, much fatigued and greatly terrified by the 
 circumstances of her journey, made no answer to this inso- 
 lence, but mildly expressed a wish to retire to her chamber. 
 
 ''Aye — ave," muttered Foster, "'tis but reasonable, but 
 under favor, you go not to your gew-gaw toy-house yonder; 
 you will sleep to-night in better security." 
 
 " I would it were in my grave," said the countess, " but that 
 mortal feelings shiver at the idea of soul and body parting." 
 
 ** You, I guess^ have no chance to shiver at that," replied 
 
KENILWORTE, 443 
 
 Foster. "My lord comes hither to-morrow and doubtless 
 you will make your own ways good with him." 
 
 "But does he comes hither? — does he indeed, good 
 Foster? " 
 
 " aye, good Foster! " replied the other. " But what 
 Foster shall I be to-morrow, when you speak of me to my 
 lord; though all I have done was to obey his own orders? " 
 
 " You shall be my protector — a rough one indeed, but still 
 a protector," answered the countess. " that Janet were 
 but here! " 
 
 " She is better where she is," answered Foster, " one of 
 you is enough to perplex a plain head; but will you taste any 
 refreshment?" 
 
 " no — no; my chamber — my chamber. I trust," she 
 said, apprehensively, " I may secure it on the inside? " 
 
 " With all my heart," answered Foster, " so I may secure it 
 on the outside "; and taking a light, he led the way to a part 
 of the building where Amy had never been, and conducted 
 her up a stair of great height, preceded by one of the old 
 women with a lamp. At the head of the stair, which seemed 
 of almost immeasurable height, they crossed a short wooden 
 gallery, formed of black oak, and very narrow, at the farther 
 end of which was a stroTag oaken door, which opened and ad- 
 mitted them into the miser's apartment, homely in its 
 accommodations in the very last degree, and, except in name, 
 little different from a prison room. 
 
 Foster stopped at the door and gave the lamp to the count- 
 ess, without either offering or permitting the attendance of 
 the old woman who had carried it. The lady stood not on 
 ceremony, but taking it hastily, barred the door, and secured 
 it with the ample means provided on the inside for that 
 purpose. 
 
 Vamey, meanwhile, had lurked behind on the stairs, but 
 hearing the door barred, he now came up on tiptoe, and Fos- 
 ter, winking to him, pointed with self-complacence to a piece 
 of concealed machinery in the wall, which, playing with much 
 ease and little noise, dropped a part of the wooden gallery, 
 after the manner of a drawbridge, so as to cut off all com- 
 munication between the door of the bedroom, which he usu- 
 ally inhabited, and the landing-place of the high winding 
 stair which ascended to it. The rope by which this ma- 
 chinery was wrought was generally carried within the bed- 
 chamber, it being Foster's object to provide against invasion 
 from without; but now that it was intended to secure the pris- 
 
444 WAVERLE7 NOVELS, 
 
 oner within, the cord had been brought over to the landing- 
 place, and was there made fast, when Foster, with much 
 complacency, had dropped the unsuspected trap-door. 
 
 Varney looked with great attention at the machinery, and 
 peeped more than once down the abyss which was opened by 
 the fall of the trap-door. It was dark as pitch, and seemed 
 profoundly deep, going, as Foster informed his confederate 
 in a whisper, nigh to the lowest vault of the castle. Varney 
 cast once more a fixed and long look down into this sable 
 gulf, and then followed Foster to the part of the manor- 
 house most usually inhabited. 
 
 When they arrived in the parlor which we have mentioned, 
 Varney requested Foster to get them supper and some of the 
 choicest wine. " I will seek Alasco," he added; " we have 
 work for him to do, and we must put him in good heart.'' 
 
 Foster groaned at this intimation, but made no remon- 
 strance. The old woman assured Varney that Alasco had 
 scarce eaten or drunken since her master's departure, living 
 perpetually shut up in the laboratory, and talking as if the 
 world's continuance depended on what he was doing there. 
 
 "I will teach him that the world hath other claims on 
 him," said Varney, seizing a light and going in quest of the 
 alchemist. He returned, after a considerable absence, very 
 pale, but yet with his habitual sneer on his cheek and nostril. 
 " Our friend," he said, " has exhaled." 
 
 "How! what mean you?" said Foster. " Eun away — fled 
 with my forty pounds, that should have been multiplied a 
 thousandfold? I will have hue and cry! " 
 
 " I will tell thee a surer way," said Varney. 
 
 "How! which w^ay?" exclaimed Foster. "I will have 
 back my forty pounds — I deemed them as surely a thousand 
 times multiplied — I will have back my in-put, at the least." 
 
 " Go hang thyself, then, and sue Alasco in the Devil's 
 Court of Chancery, for thither he has carried the cause." 
 
 "How! What dost thou mean — ^is he dead?" 
 
 " Aye, truly is he," said Varney; " and properly swoln 
 already in the face and body. He had been mixing some of 
 his devil's medicines, and the glass mask which he used con- 
 stantly had fallen from his face, so that the subtle poison 
 entered the brain and did its work." 
 
 *' Sanda Maria!'' said Foster — "I mean, God in His 
 mercy preserve us from covetousnees and deadly sin! Had he 
 not had projection, think you? Saw you no ingots in the 
 craciblM? " 
 
KENIL WORTH. 446 
 
 •^Nay, I looked not but at the dead carrion/* answered 
 Vamey — "an ugly spectacle: he was swoln like a corpse 
 three days exposed on the wheel. Pah! give me a cup of 
 wine." 
 
 " I will go," said Foster, " I will examine myself " He 
 
 took the lamp and hastened to the door, but there hesitated 
 and paused. " Will you not go with me ? " said he to Var- 
 ney. 
 
 " To what purpose ? " said Vamey; " I have seen and 
 smelled enough to spoil my appetite. I broke the window, 
 however, and let in the air; it reeked of sulphur and such- 
 like suffocating steams, as if the very devil had been there." 
 
 " And might it not be the act of the demon himself? " said 
 Foster, still hesitating; " I have heard he is powerful at such 
 times, and with such people." 
 
 " Still, if it were that Satan of thine," answered Vamey, 
 " who thus jades thy imagination, thou art in perfect safety, 
 unless he is a most unconscionable devil indeed. He hath 
 had two good sops of late." 
 
 "How, two sops — what mean you?" said Foster — "what 
 mean you?" 
 
 " You will know in time," said Vamey. " And then this 
 other banquet; but thou wilt esteem her too choice a morsel 
 for the fiend's tooth: she must have her psalms, and harps, 
 and seraphs." 
 
 Anthony Foster heard, and came slowly back to the table: 
 " God! Sir Ei chard, and must that then be done? " 
 
 " Aye, in very truth, Anthony, or there comes no copyhold 
 in thy way," replied his inflexible associate. 
 
 " I always foresaw it would land there! " said Foster; "but 
 how, Sir Eichard — how? for not to win the world would I put 
 hands on her." 
 
 " I cannot blame thee," said Vamey; " I should be reluc- 
 tant to do that myself; we miss Alasco and his manna sorely — 
 aye, and the dog Lamboume." 
 
 "Why, where tarries Lamboume?" said Anthony. 
 
 " Ask no questions," said Varney, " thou wilt see him one 
 day, if thy creed is true. But to our graver matter. I will 
 teach thee a springe, Tony, to catch a pewit; yonder trap- 
 door — yonder gimcrack of thine, will remain secure in ap- 
 pearance, will it not, though the supports are withdrawn 
 beneath?" 
 
 " Aye, marry, will it," said Foster; " so long as it is not 
 trodden on." 
 
446 WAVERLET NOVELS. 
 
 " But were the lady to attempt an escape over it/' replied 
 Yamey, " her weight would carry it down? " 
 
 '* A mo-use's weight would do it/' said Foster. 
 
 '* Why, then, she dies in attempting her escape, and what 
 could you or I help it, honest Tony? Let us to bed; we will 
 adjust our project to-morrow." 
 
 On the next day, when evening approached, Vamey sum- 
 moned Foster to the execution of their plan. Tider and 
 Foster's old manservant were sent on a feigned errand down 
 to the village, and Anthony himself, as if anxious to see that 
 the countess suffered no want of accommodation, visited her 
 place of confinement. He was so much staggered at the 
 mildness and patience with which she seemed to endure her 
 confinement, that he could not help earnestly recommending 
 to her not to cross the threshold of her room on any account 
 whatever until Lord Leicester should come, " Which," he 
 added, " I trust in God, will be very soon." Amy patiently 
 promised that she would resign herself to her fate, and Foster 
 returned to his hardened companion with his conscience half- 
 eased of the perilous load that weighed on it. " I have 
 warned her," he said; " surely in vain is the snare set in the 
 sight of any bird! " 
 
 He left, therefore, the countess' door unsecured on the 
 outside, and, under the eye of Varney, withdrew the supports 
 which sustained the falling trap, which, therefore, kept its 
 level position merely by a slight adhesion. They withdrew 
 to wait the issue on the ground-floor adjoining, but they 
 waited long in vain. At length Vamey, after walking long 
 to and fro, with his face muffled in his cloak, threw it sud- 
 denly back, and exclaimed, " Surely never was a woman fool 
 enough to neglect so fair an opportunity of escape! " 
 
 " Perhaps she is resolved," said Foster, " to await her hus- 
 band's return." 
 
 " True! — most true," said Vamey, rushing out, " I had 
 not thought of that before." 
 
 In less than two minutes, Foster, who remained behind, 
 heard the tread of a horse in the courtyard, and then a whistle 
 similar to that which was the earl's usual signal; the instant 
 after the door of the countess' chamber opened, and in 
 the same moment the trap-door gave way. There was a 
 rushing sound — a heavy fall — a faint groan — and all was 
 over. 
 
 At the same instant, Vamey called in at the window, in an 
 accent and tone which was an indescribable mixture betwixt 
 
KENILWORTH. 447 
 
 horror and raillery — "Is the bird caught? — is the deed 
 done?" 
 
 " God, forgive us! " replied Anthony Foster. 
 
 " Why, thou fool," said Vamey, " thy toil is ended, and 
 thy reward secure. Look down into the vault — what seest 
 thou?" 
 
 " I see only a heap of white clothes, like a snowdrift," said 
 Foster. " God, she moves her arm! " 
 
 " Hurl something down on her — thy gold chest, Tony — ^it 
 is an heavy one." 
 
 " Varney, thou art an incarnate fiend! " replied Foster. 
 " There needs nothing more — she is gone! " 
 
 " So pass our troubles," said Varney, entering the room. 
 "I dreamed not I could have mimicked the earPs call so 
 well." 
 
 " Oh, if there be judgment in Heaven, thou hast deserved 
 it," said Foster, " and wilt meet it! Thou hast destroyed her 
 by means of her best affections. It is a seething of the kid 
 in the mother's milk! " 
 
 " Thou art a fanatical ass," replied Vamey. " Let us 
 now think how the alarm should be given; the body is to re- 
 main where it is." 
 
 But their wickedness was to be permitted no longer; for, 
 even while they w^ere at this consultation, Tressilian and 
 Raleigh broke in upon them, having obtained admittance by 
 means of Tider and Foster's servant, whom they had secured 
 at the village. 
 
 Anthony Foster fled on their entrance; and, knowing each 
 corner and pass of the intricate old house, escaped all search. 
 But Varney was taken on the spot; and, instead of expressing 
 compunction for what he had done, seemed to take a fiendish 
 pleasure in pointing out to them the remains of the mur- 
 dered countess, while at the same time he defied them to 
 show that he had any share in her death. The despairing 
 grief of Tressilian, on viewing the mangled and yet warm 
 remains of what had lately been so lovely and so beloved, was 
 such that Raleigh was compelled to have him removed from 
 the place by force, while he himself assumed the direction of 
 what was to be done. 
 
 Vamey, upon a second examination, made very little mys- 
 tery either of the crime or of its motives; alleging, as a reason 
 for his frankness, that though much of what he confessed 
 could only have attached to him by suspicion, yet such sus- 
 picion would have been sufficient to deprive him of Leicester's 
 
448 WA VEBLEY NO YEL8. 
 
 confidence, and to destroy all his towering plans of ambition. 
 " I was not bom/' he said, " to drag on the remainder of life 
 a degraded outcast; nor will I so die that my fate shall make 
 a holiday to the vulgar herd/' 
 
 From these words it was apprehended he had some design 
 upon himself, and he was carefully deprived of all means by 
 which such could be carried into execution. But, like some 
 of the heroes of antiquity, he carried about his person a small 
 quantity of strong poison, prepared probably by the cele- 
 brated Demetrius Alasco. Having swallowed this potion 
 over-night, he was found next morning dead in his cell; nor 
 did he appear to have suffered much agony, his countenance 
 presenting, even in death, the habitual expression of sneering 
 sarcasm which was predominant while he lived. " The 
 wicked man," saith Scripture, " hath no bonds in his death." 
 
 The fate of his colleague in wickedness was long unknown. 
 Cumnor Place was deserted immediately after the murder; 
 for, in the vicinity of what was called the Lady Dudley's 
 chamber, the domestics pretended to hear groans, and screams, 
 and other supernatural noises. After a certain length of 
 time, Janet, hearing no tidings of her father, became the un- 
 controlled mistress of his property, and conferred it with her 
 hand upon Wayland, now a man of settled character, and 
 holding a place in Elizabeth's household. But it was after 
 they had been both dead for some years, that their eldest son 
 and heir, in making some researches about Cumnor Hall, dis- 
 covered a secret passage, closed by an iron door, which, open- 
 ing from behind the bed in the Lady Dudley's chamber, 
 descended to a sort of cell, in which they found an iron chest 
 containing a quantity of gold, and a human skeleton stretched 
 above it. The fate of Anthony Foster was now manifest. 
 He had fled to this place of concealment, forgetting the key 
 of the spring-lock; and being barred from escape by the 
 means he had used for preservation of that gold for which he 
 had sold his salvation, he had there perished miserably. Un- 
 questionably the groans and screams heard by the domestics 
 were not entirely imaginary, but were those of this wretch, 
 who, in his agony, was crying for relief and succor. 
 
 The news of the countess' dreadful fate put a sudden period 
 to the pleasures of Kenilworth. Leicester retired from 
 court, and for a considerable time abandoned himself to his 
 remorse. But as Varney, in his last declaration, had been 
 studious to spare the character of his patron, the earl was the 
 object rather of compassion than resentment. The Queen 
 
KENILWOBTH. 44fif 
 
 at length recalled him to court; he was once mor« distin- 
 guished as a statesman and favorite, and the rest of his career 
 is well known to history. But there was something retribu- 
 tive in his death, if, according to an account very generally 
 received, it took place from his swallowing a draught of 
 poison which was designed by him for another person.* 
 
 Sir Hugh Robsart died very soon after his daughter, hav- 
 ing settled his estate on Tressilian. But neither the prospect 
 of rural independence nor the promises of favor which Eliza- 
 beth held out to induce him to follow the court, could re- 
 move his profound mel&ncholy. Wherever he went, he 
 seemed to see before him the disfigured corpse of the early 
 and only object of his affection. At length, having made 
 provision for the maintenance of the old friends and old 
 servants who formed Sir Hugh's family at Lidcote Hall, he 
 himself embarked with his friend Raleigh for the Virginia 
 expedition, and, young in years but old in grief, died before 
 his day in that foreign land. 
 
 Of inferior persons it is only necessary to say, that Blount's 
 wit grew brighter as his yellow roses faded; that, doing his 
 part as a brave commander in the wars, he was much more in 
 his element than during the short period of his following the 
 couri: and that Flibbertigibbet's acute genius raised him to 
 favor and distinction in the employment both of Burleigh 
 and Cecil. 
 
 * See Death of the Earl of Leiceiter. Note SO. 
 
NOTES TO KENIL WORTH. 
 
 Note 1.— Cumnor Hall, p. vi. 
 
 In a valuable work, by Mr. Adlard, on " Amy Robsart, the Earl of Leicester, 
 and Kenihvorth," 8vo, London, 1870, the author says [pp. 24, 25] that Cumnor 
 Place was originally one of the country seats of the abbots of Abingdon, and 
 that, on the ciissolution of the monasteries, it was granted by Henry VIII. to 
 his physician, George Owen. At Owen's death in 1561 it was bought by 
 Anthony Forster, and was occupied by him for several years ; and at his 
 demise it passed into the hands of the Earl of Leicester. The Place ultimately 
 became the property of Lord Abingdon. 
 
 '* For a long period," says Mr. Adlard, ** Cumnor was deserted ; the recollec- 
 tion of Amy Dudley's melancholy end was revived amongst the ignorant villa- 
 gers, whose imaginations conjured up forms and horrors before unheard of, and 
 hence arose tlie legendary tales that have descended to the present day. Decay 
 followed fast on desertion, and, with the aid of the wanton and mischievous, 
 before a century had rolled away it had become almost a ruin. . , 
 
 "A few fine elms scattered here and there are all that is left to aid in 
 realizing the former picturesque appearance of this retreat, where we are 
 privileged to sympathize with sufifering innocence and blighted affection." 
 
 The ballad of *' Cumnor Hall," as stated in the Introduction, appeared, "now 
 first printed," in Evans' " Collection of Old Ballads," vol. iv. p. 130, 1784 ; and 
 the new edition (the editor discarding the antique mode of spelling), vol. iv. p. 
 94, 1810. In this form it is given above. The author, William Julius Mickle, 
 was a son of the minister of Langholm, in Dumfriesshire, where he was born in 
 1734, and died at London in 1788. He is now chiefly known by his transitv- 
 tion from Camoens of the Lusiad. — Laing. 
 
 NoTK 2.— FosTEE, Lambourne, and the Black Bear, p. 30. 
 
 If faith is to be put in epitaphs, Anthony Foster was something the very 
 reverse of the character represented in the novel. Ashmole gives this 
 description of his tomb — I copy from the "Antiquities of Berkshire," vol. i. 
 p. 143. 
 
 " In the north wall of the chancel [at Cnmnor Church] is a monument of grey 
 marble, whereon, in brass plates, are engraved a man in armour, and his wife 
 in the habit of her times, both kneeling before a fald-stoole, together with the 
 figures of three sons kneeling behind their mother. Under the figure of the 
 man is this inscription : 
 
 Antonius Forstkr, generis ^enerosa propago, 
 
 Cumnerae Dominus Bercheriensis erat. 
 Armiger, Armigero prognatue patre Ricardo, 
 
 Qui quondam Iphlethse Salopieneis erat. 
 Quatuor ex isto fluxerunt etemmate nati, 
 
 Ex isto Antonius stemmate quartus erat. 
 
 Mente eagax, animo precellens, corpore promptOB, 
 
 Eloquii dulcis, ore disertus erat. 
 In factis probitas, fuit in sermone venustas, 
 
 In vnltu gravitas, relligione fides, 
 In patriam pietas, in egenos grata voluntas, 
 
 Accedunt reliquis annumeranda bonis. 
 81 quod cuncta rapit, rapuit non omnia Lethnm, 
 
 Si quod Mors rapuit, vivida fama dedit. 
 
 461 
 
451 NOTES. 
 
 " These yeries following are writ at length, two by two, in praise of him : 
 
 Argute resonae Cithare pretendere chordas 
 
 Novit, et Aonia concrepuieee Lyra. 
 Gaudebat terre tenerae defigere plantas ; 
 
 Et mira pulchras conetruere arte domos, 
 Composita vari as lingua formare loquelas 
 
 Doctus, et edocta ecribere multa manu. 
 
 "The arms over it thus : 
 
 Quart. 
 
 I. 3 Hunter's koms stringed. 
 II. 3 Pinions with their points upwards. 
 
 "The crest is a stag couchant, vulnerated through the neck by a broad 
 arrow ; on his side is a martlett for a difference." 
 
 From this monumental inscription it appears that Anthony Forster, 
 instead of being a vulgar, low-bred, Puritanical churl was in fact a gentleman 
 of birth and consideration, distinguished for his skill in the arts of music and 
 horticulture, as also in languages. In so far, therefore, the Anthony Foster 
 of the romance has nothing but the name in common with the real individual. 
 But, notwithstanding the charity, benevolence, and religious faith imputed 
 by the monument of grey marble to its tenant, tradition, as well as secret 
 history, name him as the active agent in the death of the countess ; and it is 
 added that, from being a jovial and convivial gallant, as we may infer from 
 some expressions in the epitaph, he sunk, after the fatal deed, into a man of 
 gloomy and retired habits, whose looks and manners indicated that he 
 suffered under the presfeure of some atrocious secret. 
 
 The name of Lambourne is still known in the vicinity, and it is said some 
 of the clan partake the habits, as well as name, of the Michael Lambourne of 
 the romance. A man of this name lately murdered his wife, outdoing 
 Michael in this respect, who only was concerned in the murder of the wife of 
 another man. 
 
 I have only to add that the jolly Black Bear has been restored to his pre- 
 dominance over bowl and bottle, in the village of Cumnor. 
 
 Note 8.— Martin Swabt, p. 92. 
 
 The first verse, or something similar, occurs in a long ballad, or poem, on 
 Flodden Field, reprinted by the late Henry Weber. 
 
 See Weber's Notes in the above volume, p. 182. — Laing. 
 
 The second verse, from an old song, actually occurs in an old play, where 
 the singer boasts — 
 
 Courteonsl J I can both counter and knack 
 Of Martin Swart and all his merry-men. 
 
 Note 4.— Legend of Wayland Smith, p. 143. 
 
 The great defeat given by Alfred to the Danish invaders is said, by Mr. 
 Gough, to have taken place near Ashdown, in Berkshire. "The burial-place of 
 Bacseg, the Danish chief, who was slain in this fight, is distinguished by a 
 parcel of stones, less than a mile from the hill, set on edge, inclosing a piece 
 of ground somewhat raised. On the east side of the southern extremity stand 
 three squarish flat stones, of about four or five feet over either way, support- 
 ing a fourth . . . and now called by the vulgar Wayland Smith, from an idle 
 tradition about an invisible smith replacing lost horse-shoes here." — Gough's 
 Edition of Camden's "Britannia," vol. i. p. 221. 
 
 The popular belief still retains memory of this wild legend, which, con- 
 nected as it is with the site of a Danish sepulcher, may have arisen from some 
 legend concerning the northern Duergar, who resided in the rocks, and were 
 cunning workers in steel and iron. It was believed that Wayland Smith's fee 
 was sixpence, and that, unlike other workmen, he was offended if more was 
 offered. Of late his offices have again been called to memory ; but fiction 
 has in this, as in other cases, taken the liberty to pillage the stores of oral 
 tradition. This monument must be very ancient, for it has been kindly 
 
NOTES. 453 
 
 pointed out to me that it is referred to in an ancient Saxon charter ai 
 a landmark. The monument has been of late cleared out, and made con- 
 siderably moi-e conspicuous. 
 
 The Vale of the Whitehorse derives its name from the figure of a horse 
 ^hich has been described on the hillside at this place, the turf having been 
 removed from the chalky soil in such a way as to show at a distance the 
 form of a white horse. This figure is supposed to have been cut out during 
 the Saxon period to celebrate some victory. On certain occasions the white 
 horse is "scoured" or repaired by the peasantry of the neighbourhood, who 
 turn out in large numbers and remove any turf that may have settled itself 
 on the figure of the horse.— iamgr. 
 
 Note 5.— Obvietan, p. 148. 
 
 Orvietan, or Venice treacle, as it was sometimes called, was understood to 
 be a sovereign remedy against poison ; and the reader must be contented, for 
 the time he peruses these pages, to hold the same opinion, which was once 
 universally received by the learned as well as the vulgar. 
 
 Note 6. — Leicester and Sussex, p. 151. 
 
 Naunton gives us numerous and curious particulars of the jealous struggle 
 which took place between Ratcliffe, Earl of Sussex, and the rising favorite 
 Leicester. The former, when on his death-bed, predicted to his followers 
 that after his death, the gypsy (so he called Leicester, from his dark com- 
 plexion) would prove too many for them. 
 
 Note 7.— Sib Walteb Raleigh, p. 154. 
 
 Among the attendants and adherents of Sussex, we have ventured to intro- 
 duce the celebrated Raleigh, in the dawn of his court favor. 
 
 In Aubrey's "Correspondence" there are some curious particulars of Sir 
 Walter Raleigh. " He was a tall, handsome, and bold man ; but his nseve was 
 that he was damnably proud. Old Sir Robert Harley of Brampton Brian 
 Castle, who knew him, would say, 'twas a great question who was the 
 proudest. Sir Walter or Sir Thomas Overbury ; but the difference that was 
 judged on Sir Thomas's side. ... In the great parlour at Downton, at Mr. 
 Raleigh's, is a good piece, an original of Sir Walter, in a white satin doublet, 
 all embroidered with rich pearls, and a mighty rich chain of great pearla 
 about his neck. The old servants have told me that the [real] pearls were near 
 as big as the painted ones. He had a most remarkable aspect, an exceeding high 
 forehead, long-faced, and sour-eyelidded. A rebus is added, to this purpose : 
 
 " The enemy to the stomach, and the word of disgrace, 
 Is the name of the gentleman with a bold face." 
 
 Sir Walter Raleigh's beard turned up naturally, which gave him an 
 advantage over the gallants of the time, whose mustachios received a touch o< 
 the barber's art to give them the air then most admired. — See vol. ii. part ii. 
 pp. 509-512 [ed. 1813]. 
 
 Note 8.— Coubt Favob of Sib Walteb Raleigh, p. 168. 
 The gallant incident of the cloak is the traditional account of this cele- 
 brated statesman's rise at court. None of Elizabeth's courtiers knew better 
 than he how to make his court to her personal vanity, or could more justly 
 estimate the quantity of flattery which she could condescend to swallow. 
 Being confined in the Tower for some offense, and understanding the Queen 
 was about to pass to Greenwich in her barge, he insisted on approaching the 
 window, that he might see, at whatever distance, the queen of his affections, 
 the most beautiful object which the earth bore on its surface. The lieutenant 
 of the Tower (his own particular friend) threw himself between his prisoner 
 and the window; while Sir Walter, apparently inflamed with a fit of unre- 
 strainable passion, swore he would not be debarred from seeing his light, his 
 Ufe, his goddess ! A scuffle ensued, got up for eflfect's sake, in which the 
 lieutenant and his captive grappled and struggled with fnry, tore each other's 
 
454 NOTES. 
 
 hair, and at length drew daggers and were only separated by force. The 
 Queen being informed of this scene exhibited by her frantic adorer, it 
 wrought, as was to be expected, much in favor of the captive Paladin. There 
 is little doubt that his quarrel with the lieutenant was entirely contrived for 
 the purpose which it produced. 
 
 Note 9.— Robebt Laneham, p. 195. 
 
 Little is known of Robert Laneham, save in his curious letter to a friend in 
 London, giving an account of Queen Elizabeth's entertainments at Kenil- 
 worth, written in a style of the most intolerable affectation, both in point of 
 composition and orthography. He describes himself as a hon vivant, who was 
 wont to be jolly and dry in the morning, and by his good-will would be chiefly 
 in the company of the ladies. He was, by the interest of Lord Leicester, clerk 
 of the council-chamber door, and also keeper of the same. " When council sits," 
 says he, " I am at hand. If any makes a babbling, ' Peace,' say L If I see a 
 listener or a pryer in at the chinks or lockhole. I am presently at the bones of 
 him. If a friend comes, I make him sit down by me on a form or chest. The 
 rest may walk, a God's name !" There has been seldom a better portrait of the 
 pragmatic conceit and self-importance of a small man in office. [Compare 
 Note 16.] 
 
 Note 10.— Scottish Wild Cattle, p. 208. 
 
 A remnant of the wild cattle of Scotland are preseived at Chillingham 
 Castle, near Wooler, in Northumberland, the seat of Lord Tankerville. They 
 fly before strangers ; but if disturbed and followed, they turn with fury on 
 those who persist in annoying them. [See also "Bride of Lammermoor," 
 chap, v., and note to " Castle Dangerous."] 
 
 Note 11.— Db. Julio, p. 221. 
 
 The Earl of Leicester's Italian physician, Julio, was affirmed by his contem- 
 poraries to be a skillful compounder of poisons, which he applied with such 
 frequency that the Jesuit Parsons extols ironically the marvelous good luck 
 of this great favorite in the opportune deaths of those who stood in the way 
 of his wishes. There is a curious passage on the subject : 
 
 ' ' Long after this, he fell in love with the Lady Sheffield, whom I signified be- 
 fore, and then also had he the same fortune to have her husband die quickly, 
 with an extreme reume in his head (as it was given out), but as other say, of 
 an artificiall catarre, that stopped his breath. The like good chance had he 
 in the death of my Lord of Essex (as I have said before), and that at a time 
 most fortunate for his purpose ; for when he was coming home from Ireland, 
 with intent to revenge himselfe upon my Lord of Leycester for begetting his 
 wife with childe in his absence (the childe was a daughter, and brought up by 
 the Lady Shandoies, W. Knooles his wife), my Lord of Ley. hearing thereof, 
 wanted not a friend or two to accompany the deputy, as among other a couple 
 of the Earles owne servants, Crompton (if I misse not his name), yeoman of his 
 bottels, and Lloid his secretary, entertained afterward by my Lord of Leyces- 
 ter, and so he died in the way of an extreame flux, caused by an Italian recipe, 
 as all his friends are well assured, the maker whereof was a surgion (as is be- 
 lieved) that then was newly come to my Lord from Italy— a cunning man and 
 sure in operation, with whom, if the good Lady had beene sooner acquainted, 
 and used his helpe, she should not have needed to have sitten so pensive at 
 home, andfearefullof her husband's former returne out of the same countrey. 
 . . Neither must you marvaile though all these died in divers manners of 
 outward diseases, for this is the excellency of the Italian art, for which this 
 •urgion and Dr. Julio were entertained so carefully, who can make a man die 
 in what manner or shew of sicknesse you will ; by whose instructions no doubt 
 but his lordship is now cunning, especially adding also to these the counsell 
 of his Doctor Bayly, a man also not a little studied (as he seemeth) in his art ; 
 for I heard him once myselfe, in publique act in Oxford (and that in pres- 
 ence of my Lord of Leycester if I be not deceived), maintaine that poison 
 Blight so be tempered and given as it shoiilr' not anpeare presently, and yet 
 
NOTES. 455 
 
 ihuuld kill the party afterward, at what time should be appointed ; which 
 argument belike pleased well his lordship, and therefore was chosen to be 
 discussed in his audience, if I be not deceived of his being that day present. 
 So, though one die of a flux, and another of a catarre. yet this importeth 
 little to the matter, but sheweth rather the great cunning and skill of the 
 artificer."— Parsons' "Leicester's Commonwealth," pp. 23, 24. 
 
 It is unnecessary to state the numerous reasons why the earl is represented 
 in the tale as being rather the dupe of villains than the unprincipled author 
 of their atrocities. In the latter capacity, which a part at least of his contem- 
 poraries imputed to him, he would have made a character too disgustingly 
 wicked to be useful for the purposes of fiction. 
 
 I have only to add, that the union of the poisoner, the quacksalver, the 
 alchemist, and the astrologer in the same person was familiar to the pretend- 
 ers to the mystic sciences. 
 
 Note 12.— Pilobims to Kenilworth, p. 288. 
 
 Dr. Beattie, in his " Castles of England" [vol. i. p. 214, 1844], says, "The 
 romance of * Kenilworth, ' it is probable, has brought within the last fifteen 
 years more pilgrims to this town and neighborhood than ever resorted /to its 
 ancient shrine of the "Virgin, more knights and dames than ever figured in its 
 tilts and tournaments." — Laing. 
 
 Note 13.— Amy Bobsart at Kenilworth, p. 294. 
 
 The historical critic will recognize an obvious anachronism in the author's 
 account of Amy's visit to Kenilworth Castle. The festivities there took place 
 in July, 1575, several years after the death of the real Amy Dudley. It may be 
 mentioned, however, that during these festivities the Earl of Leicester was 
 living in secret wedlock with Lady Sheffield. 
 
 With reference to these historical liberties, see the conclusion to the "Mon- 
 astery.—" Laing [vol. x. p. 874, of this edition]. 
 
 Note 14.— Chopin, p. 295. 
 
 The old traveler Coryat, in his amusing work called " Crudities" [vol. ii. p. 
 36], 1611, says the chopin is a thing "so common in Venice, that no woman 
 whatsoever goeth without it, either in her house or abroad— a thing made of 
 wood, and covered with leather of sundry colors, some with white, some 
 redde, some yellow. It is called a ' chapiney,' whicn they weare under their 
 shoes. . . There are many of these chapineys of a great height, even half a 
 yard high, which maketh many of their women that are very short seeme 
 much taller than the tallest women we have in England." — Laing. 
 
 Note 15. — Imitation of Gasooigne, p, 328. 
 
 This is an imitation of Gascoigne's verses spoken by the herculean porter, 
 as mentioned in the text. The original may be found in the republication of 
 the "Princely Pleasures of Kenilworth," by the same author, in the " History 
 of Kenilworth," Chiswick, 1821. 
 
 Note 16. — Festivities at KBNHiWOBTH, p. 330. 
 
 See Laneham's "Account of the Queen's Entertainment at Killingworth 
 Castle " in 1575, a very diverting tract, written by as great a coxcomb as ever 
 blotted paper. [See Note 9 above.] The original is extremely lare, but it has 
 been twice reprinted ; once in Mr. Nichols' very curious and interesting col- 
 lection of the " Progresses and Public Processions of Queen Elizabeth," vol. i.; 
 and more lately in a beautiful antiquarian publication termed "Kenilworth 
 Illustrated," printed at Chiswick for Merridew of Coventry and Badclyflfe of 
 Birmingham [1821]. It contains reprints of Laneham's " Letter," Gascoigne's 
 " Princely Progress," and other scarce pieces, annotated with accuracy and 
 ability. The author takes the liberty to refer to this work as his authority for 
 the account of the festivities. 
 
456 NOTES. 
 
 Note 17. — Elizabeth and Leicestee, p. 332. 
 
 To justify what may be considered as a high-colored picture, the author 
 ouotes the original of the courtly and shrewd Sir James Melville, being then 
 Queen Mary's envoy at the Court of London : 
 
 "I was required," says Sir James, *' to stay till I had seen him made Earl 
 of Leicester and Baron of Denbigh, with great solemnity at Westmester ; 
 herself (Elizabeth) helping to put on his ceremonial, he sitting upon his knees 
 before her, keeping a great gravity and discreet behaviour ; but she could not 
 refrain from putting her hand in his neck to kittle {i. e., tickle) him, smil- 
 ingly, the French ambassador and I standing beside her."—" Memoirs," Ban- 
 natyne ed., p. 120. 
 
 Note 18.— Italian Poetry, p. 340. 
 
 The incident alluded to occurs in the poem of " Orlando Innamorato " of 
 Boiardo, libro ii. canto 4, stanza 26. 
 
 Non si ritrova, etc. 
 It may be rendered thus : 
 
 As then, perchance, unguarded was the tower, 
 
 8o enterM free Anglante's daantlees knight. 
 No monster and no giant guard the bower 
 
 In whose recess reclined the fairy light, 
 Robed in a loose cymar of lily white, 
 
 And on her lap a sword of breadth and might, 
 In whose broad blade, as in a mirror bright, 
 
 Like maid that trims her for a festal night, 
 The fairy deck'd her hair and placed her coronet aright. 
 
 Elizabeth's attachment to the Italian school of poetry was singularly mani- 
 fested on a well-known occasion. Her godson, Sir John Harrington, having 
 offended her delicacy by translating some of the licentious passages of the 
 *' Orlando Furioso," she imposed on him, as a penance, the task of rendering 
 the whole poem into English. 
 
 Note 19.— Fubnittjbe of Kenilwobth, p. 344. 
 
 In revising this work for the present edition, I have had the means of mak- 
 ing some accurate additions to my attempt to describe the princely pleasures 
 of Kenilworth, by the kindness of my friend William Hamper, Esq., who had 
 the goodness to communicate to me an inventory of the furniture of Kenil- 
 worth in the days of the magnificent Earl of Leicester. I have adorned the 
 text with some of the splendid articles mentioned in the inventory, but anti- 
 quaries, especially, will be desirous to see a more full specimen than the story 
 leaves room for. 
 
 EXTBACTS FBOM KbNILWOBTH INVENTOBY, A. D. 1584. 
 
 A salte, ship-fashion, of the mother of perle, garnished w^h silver and divers 
 workes, warlike 'ensignes, and ornaments, with xvj peeces of ordinance, 
 whereof ij on wholes, two anckers on the foreparte, and on the stearne the 
 image of Dame Fortune standing on a globe with a flag in her hand. Pois 
 xxxij oz. 
 
 A gilte salte like a swann, mother of perle. Pois xxx oz. iij q'ters. 
 
 A George on horseback, of wood, painted and gilt, with a case for knives in 
 the tayle of the horse, and a case for oyster knives in the brest of the dragon. 
 
 A green barge-cloth, embrother'd w^h white lions and beares. 
 
 A perfuming pann, of silver. Pois xix oz. 
 
 In the halle. Tabells, long and short, vj. FormeB, long and short, ziiij. 
 
 Hangings. 
 
 Theie are minutely specified, and consisted of the following subjects, in 
 tapestry and gilt and red leather : 
 
 Flowers, beasts, and pillars arched. Forest worke. Historie. Btorie of 
 Susanna, the Prodigall Childe, Saule, Tobie, Hercules, Lady Fame, Hawking 
 
NOTES. 457 
 
 and Hunting, Jezabell, Judith and Holofeines, David, Abraham, Sampgon, 
 Hippolitus, Alexander the Great, Naaman the Assyrian, Jacob, etc. 
 
 Bedsteds, with theib Furnitube. 
 
 These are magnificent and numerous. I shall copy, verbatim, the de- 
 scription of what appears to have been one of the best : 
 
 A bedsted of wallnut-tree, toppe fashion, the pillars ledd and varnished, the 
 ceelor, tester, and single vallance of crimson sattin, paned with a broad border 
 of bone lace of golde and silver. The tester richlie embrotheied with my Lo : 
 amies in a garland of hoppes, roses, and pomegranetts, and lyned with bucke- 
 rom. Fyve curteins of crimson sattin to the same bedsted, striped downe 
 with a bone lace of gold and silver, garnished with buttons and loops of crim- 
 son silk and golde, containing xiiij bredths of sattin, and one yarde iij q'ters 
 deepe. The celor, vallance, and curteins lyned with crymson tafifata sarsenet. 
 
 A crymson sattin counterpointe, quilted and embr : with a golde twiste, and 
 lyned with redd sarsenet, being in length iij yards good, and in breadth iij 
 scant. 
 
 A chaise of crymson sattin, suteable. 
 
 A fayre quilte of crymson sattin, vj breadths, iij yai'des 3 q'ters naile deepe, 
 all lozenged over with silver twiste, in the midst a cinquefoile within a gar- 
 land of ragged staves, fringed rounde aboute with a small fringe of crymson 
 silke, lyned throughe with white fustian. 
 
 Fyve plumes of coolered feathers, garnished with bone lace and spangells of 
 goulde and silver, standing in cups * knitt all over with goulde, silver, and 
 crymson silk. 
 
 A carpett for a cupboarde of crymson sattin, embrothered with a border of 
 goulde twiste, aboute iij parts of it fringed with silk and goulde, lyned with 
 bridges sattin, in length ij yards, and ij bredths of sattin. 
 
 There were eleven down beds and ninety feather beds, besides thirty-seven 
 mattresses. 
 
 Chaybes, Stools, and Cushens. 
 
 These were equally splendid with the beds, etc. I shall here copy that which 
 stands at the head of the list : 
 
 A chaier of crimson velvet, the seate and backe partlie embrothered with 
 R. L. in cloth of goulde, the beare and ragged staffe in clothe of silver, gar- 
 nished with lace and fringe of goulde, silver, and crimson silck. The frame 
 covered with velvet, bounde aboute the edge with goulde lace, and studded 
 with gilte nailes. 
 
 A square stoole and a foote stoole, of crimson velvet, fringed and garnished 
 suteable. 
 
 A long cushen of crimson velvet, embr : with the ragged staffe in a wreathe 
 of goulde, with my Lo : posie '* Droyte et Loyall " written in the same, and the 
 Ires R. L. in clothe of goulde, being garnished with lace, fringe, buttons, and 
 tassells, of gold, silver, and crimson silck, lyned with crimson taff :, being in 
 length 1 yard q'ter. 
 
 A square cushen, of the like velvet, embr : suteable to the long cushen. 
 
 Cabpets. 
 
 There were 10 velvet carpets for tables and windows, 49 Turkey carpets for 
 floors, and 32 cloth carpets. One of each I will now specify : 
 
 A carpett of crimson velvet, richlie embr : with my Lo : posie, beares and 
 ragged staves, etc., of clothe of goulde and silver, garnished upon the seamei 
 and aboute with golde lace, fringed accordinglie, lyned with crimion taffata 
 sarsenett, being 3 breadths of velvet, one yard 3 q'ters long. 
 
 A great Turquoy carpett, the grownde blew, with a list of yelloe at each end, 
 being in length x yards, in bredthe iiij yards and q'ter. 
 
 * Probably on the center and four comers of the bedstead. Four bears and ragged 
 staves occupied a similar position on another of thes^ sipnptaoas pieces of famitore. 
 
UB NOTES. 
 
 A long ct.rpett of blew clothe, lyned with bridged sattin, fringed with blew 
 silck and goulde, in length vj yards lack a q'ter, the whole bredth of the clothe. 
 
 PlOTtTREB. 
 
 Chiefly described as having curtains. 
 
 The Queene's Majestie (2 great tables). 3 of my Lord. St. Jerome. Lo : of 
 Arundell. Lord Mathevers. Lord of Pembroke. Counte Egmondt. The 
 Queene of Scotts. King Philip. The Baker's Daughters. The Diike of Feria. 
 Alexander Magnus. Two Yonge Ladies. Pompaea Sabina. Fred: D. of 
 Haxony. Empr. Charles. K. Philip's Wife. Prince of Orange and his Wife. 
 Marq: of Berges and his Wife. Counte de Home. Count Holstrate. Monsr. 
 Brederode. Dnke Alva. Cardinal Grandville. Duches of Parma. Henrie 
 E. of Pembrooke and his young Countess. Countis of Essex. Occacon and 
 Bepentance. Lord Mowntacute. Sir Ja". Crofts. Sir W^". Mildmay. Sr. 
 Wm Pickering. Edwin Abp. of York. 
 
 A tabell of an historic of men, weomen, and children, molden in wax. 
 
 A little foulding table of ebanie, garnished with white bone, wherein are 
 written verses with l^es of goulde. 
 
 A table of my Lord's armes. 
 
 Fyve of the plannetts, painted in frames. 
 
 Twentie-three cardes, or maps of countries. 
 
 Instbuments. 
 
 I shall give two specimens. 
 
 An instrument of organs, regalls, and virginalls, covered with crimson velvet, 
 and garnished v/ith goulde lace. 
 A fair pair of double virginalls. 
 
 Cabonetts. 
 
 A cabonett of crimson sattin, richlie embr: with a device of hunting the 
 stagg, in goulde, silver, and silck with iiij glasses in the topp thereof, xvj cupps 
 of flowers made of golde, silver, and silck, in a case of leather, lyned with 
 greene sattin of bridges. 
 
 Anoi' of purple velvet. A desk of red leather. 
 
 A chess borde of ebanie, with checkars of christall and other stones, layed 
 with silver, garnished with beares and ragged staves, and cinquefoiles of silver. 
 The xxxij men likewyse of christall and other stones sett, the one sorte in silver 
 white, the other gilte, in a case gilded and lyned with green cotton. 
 
 Anor of bone and ebanie, A pair of tabells of bone. 
 
 A great brason candlestick to hang intheroofeof thehowse, verie fayer 
 and curiouslye wrought, with xxtieiiij branches, xij greate andxij of lesser 
 size, 6 rowlers and ij wings for the spreade eagle, xxiiij socketts for candells, 
 xij greater and xij of a lesser sorte, xxiiij sawcers, or candle-cupps, of like 
 propor^on to putt under the socketts, iij images of men and iij of weomen, of 
 brass, verie finely and artificiallie done. 
 
 These specimens of Leicester's magnificence may serve to assure the reader 
 that it scarce lay in the power of a modern author to exaggerate the lavish 
 style of expense displayed in the princely pleasures of Kenilworth. 
 
 Note 20.— Death of the Eabl of Leicesteb, p. 449. 
 
 In a curious manuscript copy of the information given by Ben Jonson to 
 Drummond of Hawthornden, as abridged by Sir Robert Sibbald, Leicester's 
 death is ascribed to poison administered as a cordial by his countess, to whom 
 he had given it, representing it to be a restorative in any faintness, in the 
 hope that she herself might be cut off by using it. We have already quoted 
 Jonson's account of this merited stroke of retribution (see note on p. ix. of 
 
NOTES. "159 
 
 Introduction). It may be here added, that the following satirical epitaph on 
 Leicester occurs in Druinmond's "Collections," but is evidently not of his 
 composition : — 
 
 EPITAPH ON THE ERLE OF LEISTER. 
 
 Here lies a valiant wa-rior, 
 
 Who never drew a eword ; 
 Here lies a noble courtier, 
 
 Who never kept his <M>rd ; 
 Here lies the Earle of Leister, 
 
 Who trovern'd the estates. 
 Whom he earth coulfl never living lore, 
 
 And the just Heaven now hntes.— 
 
 See " Archseologia Scotica," vol. iv. ; and the volume published by the 
 Shakespeare Society, " Notes on Ben Jonson's Conversations," p. 24, 1842. 
 — Laing. 
 
GLOSSARY 
 
 OP 
 
 WORDS, PHRASES, AND ALLUSIONS 
 
 Abye, suffer for. 
 
 Accolade, the light touch 
 made with the sword on 
 the shoulder of one who 
 is knighted. 
 
 Afrite, an evil demon in 
 Mahoramedan mythology. 
 
 AiGuiLLETTE, lace tag. 
 
 Albumazar, a famous Ara- 
 bian astronomer, born in 
 Persia near close of 8th 
 century a. d., wrote 
 " Flores Astrologici " 
 (Augsburg, 1488), and 
 other works on astrology. 
 
 Alicant, Spanish wine. 
 
 j^^LLAN, or Allen, Thomas, 
 mathematician (1542- 
 1632), regarded by the 
 vulgar as a magician. 
 
 Almains, Germans. 
 
 Alter ego, second self. 
 
 Amoret, the beau-ideal of 
 female beauty in the 
 " Faerie Queene," Bk. iii. 
 
 Amsterdam, great 
 SCHOLAR OF. ErEsmuB 
 was a native, not of 
 Amsterdam, but of Rot- 
 terdam. 
 
 Anan, I beg your pardon? 
 presently. 
 
 Angel, gold coin=108. in 
 Elizabeth's reign. 
 
 Another-guess, another 
 sort of, kind of. 
 
 Anticly, grotesquely. 
 
 Arcanum, the great secret 
 of the conversion of base 
 metals into gold. 
 
 Argent, silver. 
 
 Arion, ancient Greek poet, 
 who, when driven into 
 the sea by envious sailors, 
 was carried to land on 
 a dolphin's back. 
 
 ARROW; e'er a, ever a. 
 
 AacAPART, a giant over- 
 come by Sir Bevis of 
 Hampton (Southampton), 
 
 AscHAM, Roger, tutor to 
 Elizabeth, and royal sec- 
 retary to Edward VI., 
 Mary, and Elizabeth. 
 
 ▲■PIC, the aip. 
 
 Astra regunt, etc., (p. 
 
 212), The stars rule men, 
 
 but God rules the stars. 
 A-towling, a-tolling. 
 AuTOLYCUS, a crafty pedlar 
 
 in " The Winter's Tale." 
 Ave Maria, ora pro nobis, 
 
 Hail, Mary, pray for us. 
 AvisED OF, aware of. 
 
 Babies, to look, small 
 images of one's self re- 
 flected in the eyes of 
 another. 
 
 Baillie, Harry, of the 
 Tabard, mine host of the 
 Tabard Inn in South- 
 wark, where Chaucer's 
 Canterbury Pilgrims as- 
 sembled. 
 
 Bartholomew Fair, held 
 at West Smithfleld, Lon- 
 don, on 24th August (3d 
 September from 1753), a 
 great cloth market and 
 pleasure fair, illustrated 
 in Ben Jonson's play, 
 " Bartholomew Fair." 
 
 Base, a plaited skirt, some- 
 times imitated in mailed 
 armor. 
 
 Bastard, a sweet Spanish 
 wine, resembling Mus- 
 cadel. 
 
 Bears, are you there 
 WITH YOUR. A man, dis- 
 liking a sermon on Elisha 
 and the bears, went on 
 the following Sunday to 
 another church ; but the 
 sermon was on the same 
 subject, leading him to 
 utter this exclamation. 
 
 Bear the bell, take the 
 first place : comp the bell- 
 wether, that guides the 
 flock. 
 
 Beliai^is, hero of the 
 chivalric romance, "Don 
 Bellanis of Greece." 
 
 Bell Savage, or Belle 
 Sauvage, inn in Ludgate 
 Hill, London. See Spec- 
 tator, No. 28. 
 
 Belos, Bel, or Baal, the 
 
 461 
 
 sun-god of the AesyrianB 
 and Babylonians. 
 
 Besognio, worthless fellow. 
 
 Bittern bump, the deep 
 trumpet-like boom of the 
 bittern or butter-bump. 
 
 Black Bull, perhaps the 
 Red Bull, in St. John's 
 Street, Smithfleld ; per- 
 haps the Bull in Bishops- 
 gate Street, both theaters. 
 
 Black-jack, a large jug of 
 waxed leather, for hold- 
 ing ale. 
 
 Black Sanctus, a bur- 
 lesque of the Sanctus of 
 the Roman missal. 
 
 Board of Green Cloth, 
 a committee of the 
 royal household, for- 
 merly charged with the 
 duties of purveyance. 
 
 BoNA-ROBA, a wench, a 
 showy wanton. 
 
 Boon whids, cut, give good 
 words. 
 
 Botcher, a cobbler, a tailor 
 who does repairs. 
 
 Bratchet, a little brat. 
 
 Briarbus^, the hundred- 
 armed giant in ancient 
 Greek mythology. 
 
 Bridges sattin, eatin made 
 at Bruges, in Flanders. 
 
 Brill, or Briel, captured 
 in 1572 by the patriotic 
 " Beggars of the Sea," 
 who shortly after were in 
 their turn besieged there 
 by the Spaniards. 
 
 Burleigh and Cecil, 
 Elizabeth's great states- 
 man William Cecil, Lord 
 Burleigh, and his son, 
 Sir Robert Cecil, whom 
 Elizabeth made Secretary 
 of State in 1596. 
 
 Bush over the door, a 
 sign that the house so 
 adorned was an inn. 
 
 Cabala, a mystic system 
 of mingled philosophy, 
 theology, and magic that 
 originated amongst th« 
 
4fi2 
 
 GLOSSARY 
 
 Jews of the Middle Ages ; 
 OABALiSTs, alchemists, 
 dealers in magic. 
 
 Cacodemon, an evil spirit. 
 
 Calipolis, wife of the 
 Moorish prince in Peele's 
 play, "The Battle of Al- 
 cazar." 
 
 CALivfcR, 16th century 
 musket. 
 
 Cameradoes, comrades. 
 
 Camici^, shirts. 
 
 Capotaine, or capotb, 
 close-fltiing hat. 
 
 Gardes, chnrts, maps. 
 
 Castino bottle, bottle 
 for sprinkling perfumed 
 waters. 
 
 Cater-cousin, on terms of 
 close intimacy. 
 
 Catlowdie, or catlowdy, 
 a village in the extreme 
 north of Cumberland. 
 
 Ceklor, or CELURE, bed- 
 haugings, a canopy cover- 
 ing a bed. 
 
 C'bst l'hommbj qui, etc. 
 (p. 133), 'Tis the man who 
 does the fighting and 
 gives counsel. 
 
 Charlatani, charlatans. 
 
 Cherry-pit, a game in 
 which cherry-stones are 
 thrown into a hole in the 
 ground. 
 
 Chopin, a high-soled shoe, 
 worn in Spain and Italy 
 about 1600. 
 
 Clary, a mixture of wine, 
 honey, and spices. 
 
 Cockatrices, prostitutes. 
 
 Cod's-head, fool. 
 
 C(KLEB8, unwed. 
 
 Cog's wounds, God's 
 wounds, a form of oath. 
 
 CoiP, a lady's head-dress. 
 
 Coil, herb's a, 'here's a 
 to-do, pother ; keep a 
 COIL, make a fuss, ado, 
 about. 
 
 Col BRAND, a Danish giant 
 slain by Sir Guy of War- 
 wick. 
 
 Combust, astrological term 
 applied to a planet when 
 it is so near to the sun 
 as to be almost burnt up 
 or extinguished. 
 
 Compos voti, having ac- 
 complished your wish. 
 
 Compter, a prison for 
 debtors. London had two 
 in the 16th century, one 
 in the Poultry, the other 
 in Wood Street. 
 
 Cordovan, Spanish leather. 
 
 Corinthian, a bully, ad- 
 venturer. 
 
 ConRAGio, courage. 
 
 Costard, the head. 
 
 Cote, pass, overtake. 
 
 CoucHER, going to bed. 
 
 Cricket, a small, low stool. 
 Cross, silver coin marked 
 
 with a cross. 
 CuLiss, or CULLI8, broth of 
 
 boiled meat strained. 
 
 CURETUR JENTACULUM, 
 
 Look after the breakfast. 
 
 Cut boon whids, give good 
 words. 
 
 Cutter, bully, sharper ; 
 cutter's law, thieves' 
 law; cuTTiNG,8wnggering. 
 
 Cyclops, or cnclopes, the 
 assistant? of Vulcan, who 
 labored in his work- 
 shops in Etna and other 
 volcanoes. 
 
 Cymar, a loose, light robe. 
 
 CYPRUS,CYPREsS,Or CIPRUS, 
 
 a thin, transparent kmd 
 of crape. 
 
 Dan, a complimentary title, 
 equivalent to Master, sir. 
 common with the old 
 poets. 
 
 Dandieprat, dwarf, 
 urchin. 
 
 Deboshed, debauched. 
 
 Dee, Dr. John, a London 
 alchemist, who lived in 
 the reigns from Edward 
 VI. to James I. 
 
 Devil looking over Lin- 
 coln, a phrase referring 
 to one of the following 
 —a gargoyle, shaped like 
 a diabolic figure on a 
 witch's back, near the 
 south porch of the cathe- 
 dral ; a figure of Satan at 
 the east end of the south 
 chapel of the nave ; a 
 figure of the devil on the 
 top of Lincoln College, 
 Oxford. 
 
 Diablotin. little devil, mis- 
 chievous young imp. 
 
 Died without his shoes, 
 i. e., in bed. 
 
 Dificilium, etc. (p. 103), 
 endurance of hardships 
 from day to day. 
 
 Dink, trim, tidy. 
 
 DioNYsius, the Younger, 
 tyrant of Syracuse, retired 
 after his second expulsion 
 in 343 b. c. to Corinth, 
 where he is said to have 
 earned his living as a 
 schoolmaster. 
 
 DiRL, thrill, vibrate. 
 
 Dole. See Happy man be 
 his dole. 
 
 Douse, blow, stroke. 
 
 Drap-db-burb, or burk, 
 coarse woolen stuff. 
 
 DUDMAN AND RaMHEAD, 
 
 two capes, 20 miles apart, 
 on the Corniph coast, 
 which of cou''8e can never 
 
 meet. 
 
 DuERGAR, or Dvkroer. the 
 dwarfs of Scandinavian 
 mytholoL'y and folklore. 
 
 Duke of Norfolk's af- 
 fair. Thomas Howard, 
 4th Duke, was belieaded 
 in 1572 for treasonable 
 plotting in behalf of Mary 
 Queen of Scots and the 
 Koman Catholic interest. 
 
 Electuary, a medicine, 
 consisting of powders, 
 etc., mixed with honey 
 or syrup, and licked by 
 the patient. 
 
 Ell-wand, measuring-rod 
 an ell long. 
 
 Erasmus ab die Fausto, 
 Erasmus de Holiday 
 
 Ergo hues. etc. (p. 106), 
 So ho there, Richard, my 
 pupil, come hither, 1 pray 
 thee. 
 
 Et sic de CiBTERTS, and so 
 on with the rest. 
 
 EUMBNIDBS, St\ GIUMQUB 
 
 NEFAS, tiie Furies and the 
 Stytjian monster. 
 
 Excalibur, famous sword 
 of King Arthur. 
 
 Ex NOMINE, etc. (p. 103), 
 From whose name is de- 
 rived the common word 
 "gibberish." 
 
 Eye, by the, in abundance. 
 
 Paber FERRARIU8, black- 
 smith. 
 
 Faitour, rogue, hvpocrite. 
 
 PALD-sTooLB,a folding stool 
 or chair, ramp-stool. 
 
 Fall back, fall edge. 
 come what may. 
 
 Farcy, a disease of horses. 
 
 Fa TiciD^, those who pre- 
 dict fate. 
 
 Favete linguis, keep 
 silence. 
 
 Felix bis tbrqub, twice 
 yea, three times fortu- 
 nate. 
 
 Ferrateen, perhaps fer- 
 RANDiN, a kind of poplin; 
 perhaps harrateen, a 
 coarse woolen cloth. 
 
 Festina lente, make haste 
 8lowly,don't be impatient. 
 
 Flaw, a sudden and violent 
 wind-storm. 
 
 Flight-shot, bow-shot. 
 
 P'CENUM HABET in CORNU, 
 
 It has hay wrapped about 
 its horn's— a proverbial 
 expression for a danger- 
 ous fellow. 
 Fortune, the, a theater 
 in Aldersgate, London, 
 opened about 1600, after 
 the time of this novel. 
 
 POUR-NOOKED, four-COf- 
 
 nered. 
 
GLOSSARY 
 
 463 
 
 Fox, an old name for the 
 broadsword. 
 
 " FoxBs AND Firebrands, 
 or a Specimen of the 
 Danger and Harmony of 
 Popery and Separation " 
 (1682), in verse, author 
 not positirely known. 
 
 Frippery, old clothes. 
 
 FURENS QUID FBMINA, 
 
 what a frenzied woman 
 
 (can do). 
 FuBMiTT, hulled wheat or 
 
 rice boiled in milk, and 
 
 seasoned with currants, 
 
 raisins, etc. 
 FusiLLK, or FUSIL, an elon- 
 
 fated lozenge, term in 
 eraldry. 
 
 Galliard, lively, jaunty. 
 
 Galloon, worsted lace. 
 
 Gambade, gambol, curvet. 
 
 Gaudet nomine Sibylla, 
 She rejoices in the name 
 of Sibyl. 
 
 GAze, to look attentively 
 upon. 
 
 Gazk-hound, greyhound. 
 
 Gear, affair, thing, busi- 
 ness. 
 
 Geber, a famous Arabian 
 alchemist of the 8th 
 century. 
 
 Genbthliacally, by cal- 
 culating nativities. 
 
 Gillian, rare. See Rare 
 Gillian of Croydon. 
 
 Globe, the, a theater on 
 the south bank of the 
 Thames between London 
 and Blackfriars Bridges. 
 
 GoGSNoxms, a similar cor- 
 ruption to Cog's wounds 
 {q. t>.). 
 
 Gold by the eye, money 
 in plenty, gold in abun- 
 dance. 
 
 Golden opinions, etc. (p. 
 193), quoted from " Mac- 
 beth,'^ Act. I. sc. 7; 
 Shakespeare is therefore 
 alluded to. 
 
 Goodjbre, or goujeers, a 
 coarse expletive, the pox! 
 
 Grave Maurice, Count 
 Maurice of Nassau, sec- 
 ond son and successor of 
 William of Orange as 
 Governor of the Nether- 
 lands. 
 
 Groat, silver coin worth 
 4d. 
 
 Groorah, or grograin, a 
 texture of silk and mo- 
 hair or Bilk and wool, 
 stiffened with gum. 
 
 Groyne (the), old name 
 for Corunna in Spain. 
 
 HALeAYBR, Mayor of. See 
 Mayor of Halgaver, 
 
 Hali, or Ali ben Aben- 
 Raobl, an Arab astrol- 
 oger of the eleventh cen- 
 tury, wrote "De Judiciis 
 Astrorum" (Venice, 1485). 
 
 Handsel, earnest-money of 
 a bargain. 
 
 Happy man be his dole, 
 may his lot be that of a 
 happy man. 
 
 Haro, an old Norman cry 
 for help. 
 
 Harrowtry, heraldry. 
 
 Harry noble. See Noble. 
 
 Haruspices, soothsayers, 
 diviners. 
 
 Hays, or hay, a country 
 dance, danced in a ring. 
 
 Head-borough, head of a 
 borough, petty constable. 
 
 Heart-sponk, the depres- 
 sion in the breast-bone; 
 the breast-bone. 
 
 Hermetic, relating to al- 
 chemy, astrology, magic. 
 
 HiLDiNG, a mean, worthless 
 wretch. 
 
 Hocktide, second Tuesday 
 after Easter day. 
 
 HoiSE, to heist, lift. 
 
 Holped up, embarrassed, 
 in a pickle. 
 
 Horse-courser, dealer in 
 horses. 
 
 HosPiTiuM, inn, tavern. 
 
 Hunsdon, Lord, was 
 Elizabeth's first cousin, 
 being the son of her 
 mother's sister. 
 
 Incontinent, immediately. 
 In cuerpo, in plain undress, 
 
 without cloak, naked. 
 Indamira, more correctly 
 
 Indamora, the heroine 
 
 of Dryden's tragedy 
 
 " Aurungzebe." 
 In fumo, in smoke. 
 Ingle, favorite, intimate. 
 In rerum natura, as an 
 
 actual fact. 
 IPHYCLUs, one of the 
 
 Argonauts, and owner of 
 
 large herds of cattle; 
 
 QUID hoc, etc. (p. 102), is 
 
 a proverbial phrase of 
 
 uncertain origin. 
 IvY-TOD, ivy-bush. 
 
 Jape, jest, trick. 
 JowRiNG, scolding, curs- 
 ing, 
 Juvenal, a youth. 
 
 Ka me, ka thee, Help me, 
 
 and I'll help you. 
 Keep a coil. See Coil. 
 Kennel, the gutter. 
 Kernes, light-armed foot- 
 
 aoidiers. 
 King Cambyses' vein, i. e., 
 
 blustering and bullying. 
 
 The original character 
 figures in Eikanah Settle's 
 " Cambyses, King of 
 Persia " (1671). 
 
 Lachrym.*! (Christi), red 
 Italian wine, grown on 
 the slopes of Mt. Vesu- 
 vius. 
 
 Lacs d'amour, laqubi 
 amoris, love snares. 
 
 Largesse, etc. (p. 844), 
 Your gifts, your gifts, 
 bold knights. 
 
 Left-handed, morganatic. 
 
 Levanter, easterly Medi- 
 terranean wind. 
 
 Lex Julia, law of the Ro- 
 man Emperor Augustus, 
 designed to promote mar- 
 riage and punish adultery. 
 
 Limber, supple, pliant. 
 
 LiNDABRiDKS, heroine in 
 the Spanish romance of 
 '• The Mirror of Knight- 
 hood"; a kept mistress. 
 
 LiNGu.«! Latin.*;, etc. (p. 99). 
 Though not altogether 
 ignorant of Latin, most 
 learned sir, I prefer to 
 speak in my mother 
 tongue. 
 
 List (of yelloe), edge, 
 border. 
 
 LiTTocKs, rags and tatters. 
 
 LooN, fellow. 
 
 LuciNA FER OPEM, Luciua, 
 give thine aid. Lucina 
 was the goddess who pre- 
 sided over childbirth. 
 
 LuDi MAGiSTER, master of 
 the school; also master 
 of children's play, hence 
 holiday-master. 
 
 Lyme-hound, sporting dog, 
 that hunts by scent. 
 
 Maddow, right, in all 
 probability mead-wort or 
 meadow-sweet is meant, 
 which, if gathered on the 
 right day, St. John's Day, 
 will reveal a thief. 
 
 Madge-howlet, the barn- 
 owl. 
 
 Maestricht, besieged and 
 sacked by the Spanish 
 forces under Alexander 
 of Palma in 1579. 
 
 Magister artium, the de- 
 gree of M. a. 
 
 Magisterium, the philoso- 
 pher's stone. 
 
 Mandragora, mandrake, 
 plant believed to possess 
 magic qualities. 
 
 Manna of St. Nicholas 
 (ofBari), the clear, taste- 
 less poison sold by the 
 infamous hag Toffania of 
 Naples in the beginning 
 of the 18th century. 
 
464 
 
 GLOSSARY. 
 
 MABOUS TXTIiLITTS, i. «., 
 
 Cicero, the Roman orator, 
 
 Haro, i. e., Vergil, the 
 Koman poet. 
 
 Martin Swart. The old 
 song in which the second 
 verse (p. 92) occurs is 
 Skelton^s " Against a 
 Comely Coystrowne." 
 
 Matamoros, or AIata- 
 MORB, the conventional 
 boaster of Spanish 
 comedy, the name signi- 
 fying " Slayer of Moors." 
 
 ' Match for match,' quoth 
 thb devil to the col- 
 LIRR, in the old farce 
 "The Collier of Croydon." 
 
 Mayor of Halgaver, 
 an imaginary potentate, 
 similar to the Mayor of 
 Garrat, who enforced 
 ofienses against the un- 
 written laws of popular 
 opinion— a Cornish prov- 
 erb. 
 
 Mi anime, corculum 
 MEUM, my life, my little 
 heart. 
 
 Minikin minion, a little 
 darling. 
 
 MocRADO, a mixture of silk 
 and wool, or of either 
 with flax, and resembling 
 velveteen. 
 
 Monsieur, the Duke of 
 Anjou, youngest son of 
 Henry II. of France, a 
 courtier and a suitor of 
 Queen Elizabeth. 
 
 Moppet, pretty young girl. 
 
 MoRioR, etc. (p. 8), I die, I 
 have died, to die. 
 
 Mountain-ash, or rowan- 
 tree, was regarded as a 
 safeguard against witch- 
 craft." 
 
 Mb. Bayes's tragedy, 
 " The Rehearsal (1671), by 
 George Villiers, Duke of 
 Buckingham, Bayes be- 
 ing the name of the 
 hero. 
 
 MuLciBBR, Vulcan, the 
 ancient Roman god of 
 fire. 
 
 Murrey, mulberry-col- 
 ored. 
 
 MuscADiNB, a rich sweet 
 wine. 
 
 MusQUETON, light, short 
 hand-gun 
 
 Muster, pattern. 
 
 Naas, the Tyrant, or 
 Nahash, king of the Am- 
 monites. SeeQ&va.. xi. 
 
 Kaunton, Sir Robert, 
 author of " The Court of 
 Queen Elizabeth" (1641) 
 and "Fragmenta Re- 
 galia "0642). 
 
 Ne quisquam, etc. (p. 216), 
 No one but Ajax can con- 
 quer Ajax. 
 
 Ne semissem quidem, not a 
 single groat. 
 
 Nether-stocks, stockings. 
 
 Nil ultra, nothing be- 
 yond. 
 
 Noble, a gold coin =68. 8d.; 
 Harry noble, a noble 
 coined in the region of 
 Henry VIII.; rose noble, 
 noble bearing represen- 
 tation of a rose, first 
 coined under Edward VI., 
 and worth lOs. 
 
 Nonsuch, a royal castle, 3 
 or 4 miles from Epsom in 
 Surrey, 
 
 Nooning, rest and repast at 
 noon. 
 
 Nostra paupbra regna, 
 our poor domains. 
 
 NuQ^, trifles. 
 
 Numinibus, etc. (p. 1(X)), 
 
 firayers heard by un- 
 riendly deities. 
 
 Oberon, vision op, from 
 " Midsummer Night's 
 Dream," which was not 
 acted until 1600. Shake- 
 speare himself was only 
 a boy at the date of this 
 romance. 
 
 O C^CA MENS MORTALIUM, 
 
 O darkened mind of man. 
 Or, gold. 
 
 Ordinary, eating-house. 
 Orion, a gigantic hunter 
 
 of handsome appearance ; 
 
 see Homer's " Odyssey," 
 
 Bks. V. and xi. 
 
 Palabras, talk, palaver. 
 
 PANTOurLE, slipper. 
 
 Parcel, partly. 
 
 Paropa, a kind of textile 
 material. See Taylor 
 (Water-Poet), "Praise of 
 Hempseed." 
 
 Partlet, covering for a 
 woman's neck, and shoul- 
 ders, kerchief. 
 
 Parvo coNTBNTUS, contcnt 
 with little. 
 
 Passant, walking— term in 
 heraldry. 
 
 Pass-devant, a fashionable 
 dress, a dress worn at 
 dances. 
 
 Passtime op the Peoplb, 
 a rare chronicle (1529) by 
 John Rastell. 
 
 Patientia, patience. 
 
 Pauca verba, (say) few 
 words, have done. 
 
 Perdue, hidden, in con- 
 cealment. 
 
 Per pale, by a vertical 
 line ; said of an escutch- 
 eon. 
 
 Pert^sa barbarjd lo- 
 QUKL.*;, heartily sick of a 
 language not her own. 
 
 Pewit, the lapwing. 
 
 Phaeto^, the charioteer jf 
 the Sub. 
 
 Philippine Cheney, that 
 is Philip and Cheney 
 (i, «., China), some kind 
 of worsted or woolen 
 stuff. " Philip and 
 Cheney " is an early equi- 
 valent of " Dick, Tom, 
 and Harry." 
 
 Phrbnbsis, violent mad- 
 ness, frenzy. 
 
 Picaroon, one who lives by 
 his wife; a rogue. 
 
 PiccADiLLoB, sort of deep 
 stiff collar. 
 
 Pize, term of mild execra- 
 tion. 
 
 Place op removal, cell or 
 place of confinement. 
 
 PoKiNG-AWL, rod for curl- 
 ing the ruff, sometimes 
 used as a stiletto. 
 
 Portmantle, portmanteau 
 
 Port St. Mary's, town in 
 the bay of Cadiz, Spain. 
 
 Port Christum natum, 
 after the birth of Christ, 
 
 A.D. 
 
 PoTosi, a town in South 
 America (Bolivia) with 
 rich silver mines, famous 
 since the Spanish con- 
 quest. 
 
 Preci-ian, Puritan. 
 
 Primo Henrici Sbptimi, in 
 the first year of Henry 
 VII.'s reign. 
 
 Princox, or PRiNCOCK, a 
 coxcomb. 
 
 Profecto, literally so. 
 
 Projection, the process 
 of transmuting metals, 
 especially the actual fus- 
 ing of the metals in the 
 crucible. 
 
 Provant rapier, army 
 sword. 
 
 PuoKFiST, a niggardly per- 
 son. 
 
 PusEY HORN. The manor 
 of Pusey in Berkshire ii 
 held by virtue of an ox- 
 horn, presented to the 
 Pusey family by Canmte 
 the Great. 
 
 Quasi lucub a non luobn- 
 DO, for the reverse of the 
 most obvious reason, foe 
 an absurd reason. 
 
 Quid mihi cum OABAXiiO f 
 What have I to do with 
 the nag f 
 
 QuiNTiLiAN, celebrated Ro- 
 man grammarian and 
 teacher of rhetoric of tbs 
 1st century a.d 
 
GLOSSARY. 
 
 465 
 
 RABATnoB, broad collar. 
 
 Baodlb, thrash, beat. 
 
 Eam's AiiLBY, off Fleet 
 Street, and near White- 
 friars, a resort of thieves 
 and bad characters, and 
 noted for its dirty cook- 
 shops ; now called Hare 
 Place. 
 
 Bare Giujan of Croy- 
 don, if the old farce, 
 "The Collier of Croy- 
 don," is meant, for Gillian 
 read Marian. 
 
 Bard antecedbntem, an 
 allusion to a passage in 
 Horace's " Odes," iii. 2, in 
 which punishment is said 
 nearly always to dog the 
 heels of the evil-doer. 
 
 Bash, species of inferior 
 silk. 
 
 BaTCLIPPB, or RADCLirFE, 
 
 Earl of Sussex, was 
 
 Robert, not Thomas. 
 Bectk quidbm, etc. (p. 
 
 280), Assuredly we are, 
 
 most worthy sir. 
 Beevk, steward. 
 Begalls, or REGAL, a small 
 
 portable organ. 
 Bequardant, turned to 
 
 look back. 
 
 BiCARDB, ADSIS, NEBULO, 
 
 Richard, you idle scamp, 
 come hither. 
 
 BoBBRTsoN, William, 
 
 Scottish historian, died 
 in 1793. 
 
 BosY Cross, order of, or 
 RosiCRuciANS, mystical 
 philosophers, who pro- 
 fessed the transmuta- 
 tion of metals, alchemy, 
 magic, etc. ; flourished 
 principally in 17th and 
 i8th centuries. 
 
 BoUNDBLL, anything round, 
 an article of feminine 
 attire. 
 
 BuFFLBR, bully, swaggerer. 
 
 Sadler, Sir Ealph, whom 
 Elizabeth employed in 
 her dealings with Scot- 
 land ; he was educated 
 under Thomas Cromwell, 
 Earl of Essex. 
 
 fihr. Antonlin's or rather 
 St. Antholin's, a church 
 (pulled down, 1874) in 
 Watling Street, London, 
 where in 1599 the Puri- 
 tans began to hold very 
 early morning services. 
 
 8t. Austen's Eve. St. 
 Augustine's (Austin's) 
 Day was 28th August. 
 
 St. Barnaby, or Barna- 
 bas, the companion of 
 St. Paul. 
 
 St. Johk'8 Bbro, the Bhine 
 
 wine known as Johannis- 
 berger. 
 
 St. Julian, patron saint 
 of travelers and hospi- 
 tality. 
 
 St. Lucy's Eve, 18th Sep- 
 tember. St. Lucy was 
 the " daughter lo a king 
 of the Scots," lived in 
 solitude beside the river 
 Meuse in France, and 
 died in 1090. 
 
 St. Luke's Hospital, 
 Asylum in Moorflelds, 
 London. 
 
 St. Michael's Mount, 
 rock ofE the Cornish coast, 
 near Penzance. 
 
 St. Peter op the Fetters, 
 best explained by a re- 
 ference to Acts xii. The 
 chains with which the 
 Ajpostle was bound were, 
 it is said, carried to Rome 
 by Eudocia, wife of 
 Theodosius the Younger, 
 in 439, and from that time 
 regarded with almost 
 idolatrous veneration. 
 
 Saltim banqui, quacks, 
 mountebanks. 
 
 Salve, domine, etc. (p. 99,) 
 Hail, sir, dost thou under- 
 stand Latin. 
 
 Salving the weapon, etc. 
 (p. 103), as for instance 
 with Sir Kenelm Digby's 
 sympathetic powder. 
 
 Santo Diavolo, St. Satan. 
 
 Sarsenet, thin soft woven 
 silk. 
 
 Savin, oil of juniper. 
 
 Scholar, great, op Am- 
 sterdam, should be, of 
 Rotterdam, where Eras- 
 mus was born. 
 
 ScoNCE,a fort, detached out- 
 work. 
 
 Scot and Lot, rates and 
 taxes. 
 
 ScROYLE, a mean fellow, 
 wretch. 
 
 Seiant, sitting, a term in 
 heraldry. 
 
 Seven sleepers, martyrs 
 of Ephesus, who, accord- 
 ing to the legend, slept 
 nearly two hundred years 
 in a cave, from the reign 
 of the Emperor Deciiis to 
 that of Theodosius II. 
 
 Shag, sort of rough cloth. 
 
 Sheres, Jeres, town in 
 Spain, famous for its 
 wine (sherry). 
 
 She-wolp op France, 
 Isabella, daughter of 
 Philip v., king of France. 
 
 Shooter's Hill, near 
 Greenwich, a favorite 
 haunt of highwaymen. 
 
 S^ot- WINDOW, window pro- 
 
 jecting from a wall, used 
 for defense. 
 
 Shovel-board, in which 
 the players pushed pieces 
 of money or counters on 
 to certain lines and 
 squares on a board. 
 
 Shrewsbury, Countess 
 OP. Q,ueen Mary was at 
 this time in the custody 
 of the Earl of Shrews- 
 bury. 
 
 Sidney, Philip, the gal- 
 lant poet and soldier who 
 fell before Zutphen in 
 Holland in 1586. 
 
 Sieve and shears, divina- 
 tion by means of a sieve 
 and a pair of shears. 
 
 Si pixum solvas, etc. (p. 
 118), If you dissolve a 
 fixed substance and make 
 the solution fly, and then 
 fix it again, being vola- 
 tile, you will live safe 
 and sound ; if the proc- 
 ess causes a wind, it is 
 worth a hundred pieces 
 of gold. The wind blows 
 where it lists. Catch who 
 catch can. 
 
 Sine PROLE, childless. 
 
 Sir Pandarus of Troy, 
 chief of the Lycians in 
 the Trojan War, but de- 
 graded in the romances 
 of chivalry to a pimp or 
 procurer. 
 
 Sir Talbot, a dog's name. 
 
 Skelton'b, *' Books," or 
 fuller, " Certaine Bokes 
 compiled by Master Skel- 
 ton, Poet Laureat," of 
 various contents. 
 
 Skene, short sword, knife. 
 
 Skinker, a tapster. 
 
 Sleuth-hound, blood- 
 hound. 
 
 Slocket, to convey things 
 privately out of the house. 
 
 Slop, sort of trousers; a 
 long loose outer sack-like 
 garment. 
 
 SMocK-PACED,of girlish face 
 or complexion. 
 
 Snails, an oath, corrupted 
 from Christ's (God's) 
 nails, with which His 
 hands and feet were 
 pierced. 
 
 Snick up, go, go and be 
 hanged; "Snick up," or 
 " snack up," is possibly a 
 corruption of " his neck 
 up." 
 
 Spital, hospital. 
 
 Spitchcocked, split and 
 broiled. 
 
 Stand and deliver, the 
 formula of highwaymen. 
 
 Startup, high-topped shoe, 
 buskin. 
 
466 
 
 GLOSSAET, 
 
 Stirabout, oatmeal and 
 dripping stirred together 
 in a frying pan-whilet 
 cooking. 
 
 Stoup, a drinking-vessel, 
 liquid measure. 
 
 Strappado, a military pun- 
 iehment; the offender was 
 drawn to a considerable 
 height and suddenly let 
 fall. 
 
 SuiTLAMiNA, be silent. 
 
 SwAKF, faint, swoon. 
 
 Swashing, bullying, brag- 
 ging. 
 
 Taffeta, silk stuff. 
 
 Ta!!rlkton, the player, 
 was Richard Tarlton 
 (died 1588), a comic actor 
 and jester, patronized by 
 Leicester. 
 
 Tau, letter, from the 
 Greek alphabet, corre- 
 sponds to "t." 
 
 Tent stitch, single stitch 
 in worsted work and em- 
 broidery. 
 
 Tkrtio Marine, the third 
 year of Mary's reign, 1556. 
 
 Three Cranks in the 
 ViNTRY, a celebrated 
 tavern in Upper Thames 
 Street, between London 
 Bridge and Blackfriars 
 Bridge. 
 
 Trismegistus, the name 
 given in the early Chris- 
 tian ages to the Egyptian 
 god, Thoth, whom the 
 ancient Greeks identi- 
 fied with their god 
 Hermes. Trismegistus 
 wfUB regarded by the 
 
 alchemists as a father o 
 their art. 
 
 Trowl, to pass round. 
 
 Truepenny, the name 
 Hamlet applies to his 
 Father's Ghost in Act 
 i. sc. 5. 
 
 Tugukia, huts, cottages. 
 
 Turnball, or Turnbull, 
 Street, now Turnmill 
 Street, near Clerkenwell, 
 formerly a resort of 
 bullies and low characters. 
 
 Twin streams (p. 188), the 
 Rhone and the Sa6ne. 
 See Csesar," DeBell.Gall," 
 Bk. i. 
 
 Tyburn tippet, halter. 
 
 Tyke, a dog. 
 
 Uno avulso, etc. (p. 103), 
 when one has been torn 
 off, another grows in its 
 place. 
 
 Untimeously, untimely. 
 
 Up sey es, a corrupted 
 Dutch or German phrase, 
 meaning toss it off 1 here 
 it goes 1 
 
 Vails, a windfall, tip, 
 gratuity given to serv- 
 ants. 
 
 Vanbbugh, Sir John, 
 dramatist and architect 
 of Queen Anne's reign. 
 
 Varium et mutabile, 
 changeful and capricious. 
 
 Venlo, was besieged, but 
 unsuccessfully, by the 
 Spaniards in November, 
 1578. 
 
 Via 1 away I 
 
 ViReiNAL, small harp- 
 
 sichord or old-fashioned 
 
 piano without legs. 
 Vogue la oalere, come 
 
 what may. 
 VoTO A Dios, Spanish oath 
 
 of menace, By God 1 
 
 WASSAiL.spiced ale orwine. 
 
 Watchet, pale blue. 
 
 '* What man that sees," 
 etc. (p. 153), from Spen- 
 ser's Cantos on Muta- 
 bility, a fragment of the 
 "Faerie Queene." 
 
 Whiteboy, pet, darling, a 
 term of endearment. 
 
 White witch, wizard or 
 witch of beneficent dis- 
 position. 
 
 Whittle, a large knife, 
 generally one carried in 
 the girdle. 
 
 Wife of Bath, one of 
 Chaucer's Canterbury 
 Pilgrims. 
 
 Willoughby, Lord, Pere- 
 grine Bertie, Lord Wil- 
 loughby de Eresby, a 
 distinguished soldier, 
 hero of the ballad of 
 " The Brave Lord Wil- 
 loughby." 
 
 Witch's elm, or rather 
 rowan-tree, as in the 
 passage a few paragraphs 
 lower down (p. 106). 
 
 Witch's mark, a wart or 
 mark, insensible to pain, 
 made by the devil on his 
 vassals. 
 
 Won'd, dwelt. 
 
 Wus, know. 
 
 Wyvern, a winged dragon, 
 a heraldic term. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Adlard, Amy Robsart,qnoted , 451 
 Aglionby, Recorder of Warwick, 289 
 Alasco, Holiday's account of, 103 ; Way- 
 land's, 119; his interview witii Leicester, 
 212; with Varney, 215 ; sent down to 
 Cumnor, 221 ; his specious casuistry, 
 260 ; found dead, 444 
 A8hmole,AntiquitiesofBerkshire,qnoied, 
 
 iv, 451 
 Astrology, belief in, 118, 211, 260 
 Aubrey, Correspondence, quoted, 453 
 Author's Introduction, iii 
 
 Badger, Will, the huntsman, 92; de- 
 scribes his master's condition, 130 
 Bear, the Leicester cognizance, 76 
 Bear-baiting, described, 199 
 Beattie. Castles of England, quoted. 455 
 Black Bear Inn, Cumnor, 1, 223, 452 
 Blount, Nicholas, at Say's Court, 151 ; 
 sent to court to make Sussex's apolo- 
 gi' 8, 160 ; his gay dress, 821 ; knighted, 
 343 ; his astonishment at court in- 
 trigues, 425 
 Boiardo, Orlando Innamorato, 456 
 Burleigh, advises the Queen, 427 
 
 Camdbn's Britannia, quoted, 452 
 
 Chopin, or chapiney. Coryat on, 455 
 
 Coryat, Crudities, quoted, 455 
 
 Coventry custom, 416 
 
 Coxe, Captain, of Coventry, 416 
 
 Crane, Mistress, 125 
 
 Crank, Dame, 125 
 
 Cumnor. village, 1 ; Black Bear Ion, 1, 
 223, 452; park, 23; Hall or Place, 26, 
 451 ; apartments at, 52; secret trap- 
 door, 444 
 
 Cumnor Hall, poem, vi, 451 
 
 Curate of Lidcote, 182 
 
 Do»oo»iK, Dr. Set Alasco 
 
 Elizabeth, Queen, her mode of govern- 
 ing, 150 ; on the river, 162 : her atten- 
 tion drawn to Raleigh, 163 ; visits Say's 
 Court, 169; holds court at Greenwich, 
 178 ; cross-questions Varney, 180 ; gives 
 audience to Tressilian, 186 ; receives 
 Leicester on her barge, 196 ; completes 
 Raleigh's verse, 204 ; her peculiar 
 temper, 241 ; entry into Kenilworth, 
 825 ; calls for Amy, 334 ; discovers her 
 In the grotto, 362 ; scene with Leicester, 
 866 ; her anger on his disclosure, 427 
 
 Evelyn, Mr., 149 
 
 Fi.nBBRTiaiBBST, 106 ; guides Tressilian, 
 108 ; blows up the smithy, 122 ; replies 
 to Yarney's questions, 280; makes nim- 
 •elf known to Wayland, 281 ; his iu- 
 
 quisitiveness, 282, 803 ; drops npon 
 Wayland's horse, 294 ; astonishes the 
 
 torter, 296; prompts him, 328; stays 
 eictster, 420 : explains his behavior, 
 423 
 
 Foster, Anthony, 14 ; personal appear- 
 ance of, 27 ; interview with Lam- 
 bourne, 31 : his conversations with 
 Varnt-y, 42, 77 ; attempts to quiet Lam- 
 bourne, 237 ; quotes Scripture to Amy, 
 254; brings the poison lo Amy, 257: 
 prays in his sleep, 436 ; arranges the 
 trap, 446; his end, 448; the real 
 Anthony Forster, 451 
 
 Foster, Janet, 43, 55 ; declines the earl's 
 ring, 7 ; her dislike to the peddler, 232 ; 
 overhears Lambourne's ravings, 237 ; 
 intercepts the poison, 258 ; aiiis Amy 
 to escape, 263 ; weds Waylaud, 44S 
 
 Gascoione, imitation of, 328, 455 
 
 Goldthred, Laurence, the merct^r, 7 ; tells 
 of the lady at Cumnor Place, 15 ; his 
 wager with Lambourne, 18; carouses 
 with him. 226 ; his horse seized by 
 Wiyland,273 
 
 Gosling, Cicely, 21 
 
 Gosling, Giles, landlord of the Black 
 Bear, 1 ; his concern about Tressilian, 
 10; conversation with -him, 89; send* 
 Wayland to Cumnor Place, 229 
 
 Qrimesby, Gaffer, 123 
 
 Harrixoton, Sir John, 241, 456 
 Hobgoblin. See Flibbertigibbet 
 Holiday, Erasmus, 99, 101 
 Hostler, Jack, of Marlborough, 1S8 
 Hunsdon, Lord, 367, 413 
 
 Introduction, Author's, iil 
 
 Julio, Dr., 454 
 
 Kenilworth, the novel, iii 
 
 Kenilworth Casile, 290; royal entry into, 
 325 ; entertainments at, 329, 399, 416, 
 455 ; pilgrims to, 455 ; furniture in, 456 
 
 Lahbourne, Michael, returns to Cum- 
 nor, 2 : his wager with Goldthred, 18 ; 
 visits P'oster, 27, 37 ; interrupts Varney 
 and Tressilian, 40 ; taken into Varney's 
 service, 80 ; takes Alasco to Cumnor, 
 221 ; commands Foster to the inn, 227 ; 
 his drunken ravings. 287 ; encounter 
 with Tressilian at Kenilworth, 810; 
 turns Wayland out of the castle, 815 ; 
 his welcome to the Oueen, 380 ; enters 
 Amy's apartment, 854 ; sent after 
 Varney, 407 ; his death, 438 ; shot by 
 Varney, 441; note on his name, 4CS; 
 
46« 
 
 INDEX, 
 
 LAneham, Robert, pays court to Leices- 
 ter, 198 ; his deHcription of Kenil- 
 worth festivities, 830, 455 : accoant of 
 iiim, 453 
 
 Leicester, Earl of, visits Amy at Cumnor, 
 65 ; offers Janei a present, 70 ; talks of 
 reuriug from court, 72 ; tAken farewell 
 of Amy. 75 ; at Woodstock, 84 ; in con- 
 sultation witii Varney, 172, 209, 243, 
 845, 372 ; summoned to Greenwich, 175 ; 
 difticullies of his position, 196, 240 ; 
 courted by Laneham, 193 ; summoned 
 to the Queen's barge, 195 ; consults 
 Alasco, 212; receives the Queen at 
 Kenilworth. 332 ; his dress, a33 ; love 
 passages with the Q(ieen, 360, 456 ; 
 confronted with Amy, 367 ; last inter- 
 view with her, 376 ; his desperate strait, 
 882 ; fatal decision, 390 ; gives Varney 
 his signet ring, 396 ; accosted by Trea- 
 Bilian, 403; sends Lambourne after 
 Varney, 407 ; his meeting with Tres- 
 silian, 409, 419 • interrupted by Flibber- 
 tigibbet, 420; before the Queen, 427; 
 his death, 458 
 
 Leicester's Commonwealth, v, 456 
 
 Lidcote Hall, 129 
 
 HAKTEtts, the physician, turned away by 
 Saleigh, 158 ; his report as to Amy'i 
 condition, 397 
 Mervvn's Bower, Kenilworth, 290 
 Mickle, author of Cumnor Hall, v, 451 
 Mumblazen, Master, 131 ; gives his purse 
 to TresBilian, 139 
 
 •• Of all the birds on bush or tree," 18 
 Orvietan, or Venice treacle, 148, 458 
 
 Paokt, Lady, 203 
 Peddlers, time of tale, 228 
 Pinnit, Orson ^petition of, 198 
 Pleasance, at Kenilworth. 300, 858 
 Porter, gigantic, at Kenilworth, 295 ; hia 
 address to the Queen, 828 
 
 RjLLKiGH, Walter, at Say's Court, 168; 
 refuses to admit Dr. Masters, 158 ; ac- 
 companies Blount to Court, 160 ; lays 
 down his cloak for the Queen, 168; 
 in the royal barge, 164 ; recites the 
 " Vision of Oberon " 201 ; writes on the 
 window-pane, 203 ; at Kenilworth, 321 ; 
 knighted, 342 ; sets off for Cumnor, 438; 
 Aubrey's description of, 453; his skill 
 as a courtier, 453 
 
 Robsart, Amy, Goldthrcd's account of, 
 15 ; interview with Tressilian, 35 ; re- 
 ception of Varney, 43 ; in her new 
 apartments, 55 ; interview with Varney, 
 68 ; visit of Leicester, 65 ; Leicester 
 takes farewell, 75 ; buys from the pod- 
 dler, 282; her tastes and trainincf, 248, 
 285 ; exciting interview with Varney, 
 251 ; drinks the poison, 262 ; epnapes 
 from Cumnor, 264 ; intrusts herself to 
 Wayland, 270 ; amongst the mapqners, 
 279 ; her irresolution, 286 : on the way 
 to Kenilworth, 288 ; enters the chase, 
 298 ; in Kenilworth Castle, 295 ; gives 
 Wayland the letter, 300 ; discovered by 
 TrMsilian, 806; her caae before the 
 
 Queen, a34 ; in Mervyn'a Bower, 86i j 
 her privacy invaded by Lambourne, 864 ; 
 discovered by the Queen, 862 ; screens 
 Leicester, 368 ; put in confinement, 369 ; 
 last interview with Leicester, 376 ; 
 slandered by Varney, 385 ; carried back 
 to Cumnor, 435 ; arrives there, USt ; her 
 death, 446 ; anachronisms regarding, 
 455 
 
 Robsart, Sir Hugh, 92, 131, 449 
 
 Robwart, Sir Roger, 91, 133 
 
 Rutland, Duchess of, proposes Raleigh 
 for knighthood, 341 
 
 Sat's Court, 149 
 
 Shakspere, 192, 198, 200 ; his " Vision oi 
 Oberon," 201 
 
 Shrewsbury, Earl of, 427 
 
 Sludge, Gammer, 99 
 
 Sludge, Richard. See Flibbertigibbet 
 
 Staples, Laurence, 315, 354 
 
 Sussex, Earl of, hit* letter to Tressilian, 
 140 ; his lineage, 151 ; takes Wayland's 
 drugs, 155 ; surprised by Elizabeth, 169 , 
 summoned to Greenwich. 175 ; supports 
 Orson Pinnit's petition, 198 ; proposes 
 Blount for knighthood, 841 ; his Jeal- 
 ousy of Leicester, 453 
 
 Swart, Martin, 91, 452 
 
 TiDKR, Robin, 435 
 Tracy, Earl of Sussex's man, 158 
 Tressilian, Edmund, at Cumnor, 9; his 
 interest in the lady, 16 ; joins Lami- 
 bourne in his wager, 18 ; visits Cumnor 
 Place, 27 ; his interview with Amy, 35; 
 encounter with Varney, 39 ; conversa- 
 tion with Giles Gosling, 89 ; in the Vale 
 of the Whitehorse, 98 ; interview with 
 Wayland, 113; at Marlborough, 123: 
 arrives at Lidcote Hall, 129 ; summoned 
 to court by Sussex, 140 ; goes with 
 Wayland to buy drugs, 144 ; arrives at 
 Say's Court, 162; before the Queen, 
 186 ; returns to Kenilworth, 305 ; dis- 
 covers Amy in Mervyn's Bower, 306 ; 
 meeting with Lambourne, 310; hears 
 Wayland's report, 313 ; offends the 
 Queen, 335 ; accosts Leicester, 403 ; 
 fights with him, 409, 419; saved by 
 Flibbertigibbet, 420 ; summoned before 
 the Queen, 425 ; sets off for Cumnor. 
 438 ; his end, 449 
 
 Vabnkt, Richard, encounter with Tres- 
 silian, 39; reception of, by Amy, 42 ; 
 conversation with Foster, 43 ; interview 
 with Amy, 58 ; in counsel with Leices- 
 ter, 72, 172, 209, 248. 345, 372; con- 
 sults with Foster, 77 : takes Lambourne 
 into his service. fO ; refused admission 
 by Bowyer, 17'> ; examined by the 
 Queen, 180; his talk with Alasco, 215 ; 
 sends him to Cumnor, 221 ; ommons 
 visit to Amy, 251 ; constrains her to 
 take the poinon, 262 ; overtakes the 
 masquers. 280 ; presents the certificates, 
 884 ; knigl\ted, 340 ; extricates Leices- 
 ter from his dilemma, 368 ; argues with 
 him, 883, 394 ; slanders Amy, 385 ; car 
 ries her off to Cumnor, 486 : shoots 
 
INDEX, 
 
 469 
 
 l;amboarne, 441 ; imitates Leicester's 
 whiBtle, 446 ; his Buicide, 448 
 Venice treacle, or orvietan, 148, 468 
 
 Watland Smith, Holiday's account of, 
 108; surprised by Tressilian, 113; his 
 history, 117; his haunt blown up, 122; 
 at Marlborough, 123; Rivee a draught 
 to Sir Hugh Robsart, 138 ; buyn drugs, 
 144 ; prescribes for the Earl of Sussex, 
 149 ; his fear of Alasco, 206 : sent down 
 to Ciimnor, 207 ; disguised as a peddler, 
 223 ; has audience of Amy, 232 ; guides 
 her to Kenilworth, 270 ; appropriates 
 Qoldthred's horse, 378 ; mingles with 
 
 the masquers, 879 ; accosted by Flibber 
 tigibbet, 281 ; on the way to Keuil 
 worth, 288 ; enters the chase, 293 
 watches for Tressilian, 808 : loss of the 
 letter, 313 ; expelled by Lambonme^ 816 
 appears before Leicester and Tressilian 
 421 ; weds Janet Foster, 448 ; note on 
 from Camden's Britannia, 452 
 
 " What stir, what turmoil," 8S8 
 
 Whitehorse, Vale of, 98. 463 
 
 Wild cattle. Scottish, 208, 464 
 
 Willonghbv. Lord, 197 
 
 Woodstock Park, 84 
 
 YoGLAK, the Jew, W 
 
\ 
 
 14 DAY USE 
 
 RETUIIN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED 
 LOAN DEPT. 
 
 This book is due on the last date stamped below, or 
 
 on the date to which renewed. 
 
 Renewed books are subject to immediate recall. 
 
 I IN STACKS l!CU^4'^=T§gf~" « 
 
 JAN 171959 
 
 JUNlft^^^^ ■ 
 
 
 ''^CIS. JUN2 198J 
 
 25Jan'60FK 
 
 I— r" 
 
 skm^ is^ 
 
 ■.,:r)<^'6SJ0 
 
 KECO uL. 
 
 ^tni5-65-5Pl|t 
 
 LD 21A-50m-9,'58 
 (6889sl0)476B 
 
 General Library 
 
 University of California 
 
 Berkeley 
 
"J^- 
 
 iyiS9082 
 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY