[Illustration: "AND AT THE LAST HE ... SAILED OVER THE SEAS TO HIS OWN LAND. " _Frontispiece_] The Black Douglas By S. R. Crockett Author of "The Raiders, " "The Stickit Minister, " etc. New York Doubleday & McClure Co. 1899 COPYRIGHT, 1899, By S. R. CROCKETT. CONTENTS CHAPTER I The Black Douglas rides Home. CHAPTER II My Fair Lady CHAPTER III Two riding together CHAPTER IV The Rose-red Pavilion CHAPTER V The Witch Woman CHAPTER VI The Prisoning of Malise the Smith CHAPTER VII The Douglas Muster CHAPTER VIII The Crossing of the Ford CHAPTER IX Laurence sings a Hymn CHAPTER X The Braes of Balmaghie CHAPTER XI The Ambassador of France CHAPTER XII Mistress Maud Lindesay CHAPTER XIII A Daunting Summons CHAPTER XIV Captain of the Earl's Guard CHAPTER XV The Night Alarm CHAPTER XVI Sholto captures a Prisoner of Distinction CHAPTER XVII The Lamp is blown out CHAPTER XVIII The Morning Light CHAPTER XIX La Joyeuse baits her Hook CHAPTER XX Andro the Penman gives an Account of his Stewardship. CHAPTER XXI The Bailies of Dumfries CHAPTER XXII Wager of Battle CHAPTER XXIII Sholto wins Knighthood CHAPTER XXIV The Second Flouting of Maud Lindesay CHAPTER XXV The Dogs and the Wolf hold Council CHAPTER XXVI The Lion Tamer CHAPTER XXVII The Young Lords ride away CHAPTER XXVIII On the Castle Roof CHAPTER XXIX Castle Crichton CHAPTER XXX The Bower by yon Burnside CHAPTER XXXI The Gaberlunzie Man CHAPTER XXXII "Edinburgh Castle, Tower, and Town" CHAPTER XXXIII The Black Bull's Head CHAPTER XXXIV Betrayed with a Kiss CHAPTER XXXV The Lion at Bay CHAPTER XXXVI The Rising of the Douglases CHAPTER XXXVII A Strange Meeting CHAPTER XXXVIII The MacKims come to Thrieve CHAPTER XXXIX The Gift of the Countess. CHAPTER XL The Mission of James the Gross CHAPTER XLI The Withered Garland CHAPTER XLII Astarte the She-wolf CHAPTER XLIII Malise fetches a Clout CHAPTER XLIV Laurence takes New Service CHAPTER XLV The Boasting of Gilles de Sillé CHAPTER XLVI The Country of the Dread CHAPTER XLVII Cćsar Martin's Wife CHAPTER XLVIII The Mercy of La Meffraye CHAPTER XLIX The Battle with the Were-wolves CHAPTER L The Altar of Iron CHAPTER LI The Marshal's Chamber CHAPTER LII The Jesting of La Meffraye CHAPTER LIII Sybilla's Vengeance CHAPTER LIV The Cross under the Apron CHAPTER LV The Red Milk CHAPTER LVI The Shadow behind the Throne CHAPTER LVII The Tower of Death CHAPTER LVIII The White Tower of Machecoul CHAPTER LIX The Last Sacrifice to Barran-Sathanas CHAPTER LX His Demon hath deserted him CHAPTER LXI Leap Year in Galloway THE BLACK DOUGLAS CHAPTER I THE BLACK DOUGLAS RIDES HOME Merry fell the eve of Whitsunday of the year 1439, in the fairest andheartsomest spot in all the Scottish southland. The twined May-polehad not yet been taken down from the house of Brawny Kim, masterarmourer and foster father to William, sixth Earl of Douglas and Lordof Galloway. Malise Kim, who by the common voice was well named "The Brawny, " satin his wicker chair before his door, overlooking the island-studded, fairy-like loch of Carlinwark. In the smithy across the greenbare-trodden road, two of his elder sons were still hammering at somearmour of choice. But it was a ploy of their own, which they desiredto finish that they might go trig and point-device to the Earl'sweapon-showing to-morrow on the braes of Balmaghie. Sholto andLaurence were the names of the two who clanged the ringing steel andblew the smooth-handled bellows of tough tanned hide, that wheezed andpuffed as the fire roared up deep and red before sinking to the rightwelding-heat in a little flame round the buckle-tache of the girdlebrace they were working on. And as they hammered they talked together in alternate snatches andsilences?--Sholto, the elder, meanwhile keeping an eye on his father. For their converse was not meant to reach the ear of the grave, strongman who sat so still in the wicker chair with the afternoon sunshining in his face. "Hark ye, Laurence, " said Sholto, returning from a visit to the doorof the smithy, the upper part of which was open. "No longer will I bea hammerer of iron and a blower of fires for my father. I am going tobe a soldier of fortune, and so I will tell him--" "When wilt thou tell him?" laughed his brother, tauntingly. "I wagermy purple velvet doublet slashed with gold which I bought with mineown money last Rood Fair that you will not go across and tell him now. Will you take the dare?" "The purple velvet--you mean it?" said Sholto, eagerly. "Mind, if yourefuse, and will not give it up after promising, I will nick thatlying throat of yours with my gullie knife!" And with that Sholto threw down his pincers and hammer, and valorouslypushed open the lower door of the smithy. He looked with bold, darkblue eye at his father, and strode slowly across the grimy door-step. Brawny Kim had not moved for an hour. His great hands lay in his lap, and his eyes looked at the purple ridges of Screel, across thebeautiful loch of Carlinwark, which sparkled and dimpled restlesslyamong its isles like a wilful beauty bridling under the gaze of ascore of gallants. But, even as he went, Sholto's step slowed, and lost its braggartstrut and confidence. Behind him Laurence chuckled and laughed, smiting his thigh in his mocking glee. "The purple velvet, mind you, Sholto! How well it will become you, coft from Rob Halliburton, our mother's own brother, seamed with redgold and lined with yellow satin and cramosie. Well indeed will it setyou when Maud Lindesay, the maid who came from the north for companyto the Earl's sister, looks forth from the canopy upon you as youstand in the archers' rank on the morrow's morn. " Sholto squared his shoulders, and with a little backward hitch of hiselbow which meant "Wait till I come back, and I will pay you for thisflouting, " he strode determinedly across the green space towards hisfather. The master armourer of Earl Douglas did not lift his eyes till his sonhad half crossed the road. Then, even as if a rank of spearmen at theword of command had lifted their glittering points to the "ready, "Sholto MacKim stopped dead where he was, with a sort of gasp in histhroat, like one who finds his defenceless body breast high againstthe line of hostile steel. "The purple velvet!" came the cautious whisper from behind. But thetaunt was powerless now. The smith held his son a moment with his eyes. "Well?" came in the deep low voice, more like the lowest tones of anorgan than the speech of a man. Sholto stood fixed, then half turning on his heel he began to walktowards the corner of the dwelling-house, over which a gay streamer ofthe early creeping convolvulus danced and swung in the stirring of thelight breeze. "You wish speech with me?" said his father, in the same level andthrilling undertone. "No, " said Sholto, hesitant in spite of himself, "but I thought--thatis I desired--saw you my sister Magdalen pass this way? I havesomewhat to give her. " "Ah, so, " said Brawny Kim, without moving, "a steel breastplate, belike. Thou hast the brace-buckle in thy hand. Doth the littleMagdalen go with you to the weapon-show to-morrow?" "No, father, " said Sholto, stammering, "but I was uneasy for thechild. It is full an hour since I heard her voice. " "Then, " said his father, "finish your work, put out the fire, and goseek your sister. " Sholto brought his hands together and made the little inclination ofthe head which was a sign of filial respect. Then, solemn as if he hadbeen in his place in the ordered line of the Earl's first levy ofarcher men, he turned him about and went back to the smithy. Laurence lay all abroad on the heap of charcoal of which thearmourer's welding fire was made. He was fairly expiring withlaughter, and when his brother angrily kicked him in the ribs, he onlywaggled an ineffectual hand and feebly crowed in his throat like acock, in his efforts to stifle the sounds of mirth. "Get up, fool, " hissed his angry brother; "help me with this accursedhammer-striking, or I will make an end of such a giggling lout as you. Here, hold up. " And seizing his younger brother by the collar of his blue workingblouse, he dragged him upon his feet. "Now, by the saints, " said Sholto, "if you cast your gibes upon me, by Saint Andrew I will break every bone in your idiot's body. " "The purple velvet--oh, the purple velvet!" gasped Laurence, as soonas he could recover speech, "and the eyes of Maud Lindesay!" "That will teach you to think rather of the eyes of Laurence MacKim!"cried Sholto, and without more ado he hit his brother with hisclinched knuckles a fair blow on the bridge of his nose. The next moment the two youths were grappling together like wild cats, striking, kicking, and biting with no thought except of who shouldhave the best of the battle. They rolled on the floor, now tusslingamong the crackling faggots, anon pitching soft as one body on thepeat dust in the corner, again knocking over a bench and bringing downthe tools thereon to the floor with a jingle which might have beenheard far out on the loch. They were still clawing and cuffing eachother in blind rage, when a hand, heavy and remorseless, was laid uponeach. Sholto found himself being dabbled in the great temperingcauldron which stood by his father's forge. Laurence heard his ownteeth rattle as he was shaken sideways till his joints waggled likethose of a puppet at Keltonhill Fair. Then it was his turn to bedoused in the water. Next their heads were soundly knocked together, and finally, like a pair of arrows sent right and left, Laurence spedforth at the window in the gable end and found himself in the midst ofa gooseberry bush, whilst Sholto, flying out of the door, fellsprawling on all fours almost under the feet of a horse on which ayoung man sat, smilingly watching the scene. Brawny Kim scattered the embers of the fire on the forge-hearth, andthrew the breastplate and girdle-brace at which the boys had beenworking into a corner of the smithy. Then he turned to lock the doorwith the massive key, which stood so far out from the upper leaf thatto it the horses waiting their turns to be shod were ordinarilytethered. As he did so he caught sight of the young man sitting silent on theblack charger. Instantly a change passed over his face. With onemotion of his hand he swept the broad blue bonnet from his brow, andbowed the grizzled head which had worn it low upon his breast. Thusfor the breathing of a breath the master armourer stood, and then, replacing his bonnet, he looked up again at the young knight onhorseback. "My lord, " he said, after a long pause, in which he waited for theyouth to speak, "this is not well--you ride unattended and unarmed. " "Ah, Malise, " laughed the young Earl, "a Douglas has few privileges ifhe may not sometimes on a summer eve lay aside his heavy prisonment ofarmour and don such a suit as this! What think you, eh? Is it not avaliant apparel, as might almost beseem one who rode a-courting?" The mighty master-smith looked at the young man with eyes in whichreverence, rebuke, and admiration strove together. "But, " he said, wagging his head with a grave humorousness, "yourlordship needs not to ride a-courting. You are to be married to agreat dame who will bring you wealth, alliance, and the dower ofprovinces. " The young man shrugged his shoulders, and swung lightly off hischarger, which turned to look at him as he stood and patted its neck. "Know you not, Malise, " he said, "that the Earl of Douglas must needsmarry provinces and the Lord of Galloway wed riches? But what is therein that to prevent Will Douglas going courting at eighteen years ofhis age as a young man ought. But have no fear, I come not hitherseeking the favour of any, save of that lily flower of yours, the onlytrue May-blossom that blooms on the Three Thorns of Carlinwark. Iwould look upon the angel smile on the face of your little daughterMagdalen. An she be here, I would toss her arm-high for a kiss of hermouth, which I would rather touch than that of lady or leman. For I doever profess myself her vassal and slave. Where have you hidden her, Malise? Declare it or perish!" The smith lifted up his voice till it struck on the walls of hiscottage and echoed like thunder along the shores of the lake. "Dame Barbara, " he cried, and again, getting no answer, "ho, DameBarbara, I say!" Then at the second hallo, a shrill and somewhat peevish voiceproceeded from within the house opposite. "Aye, coming, can you not hear, great nolt! 'Deed and 'deed 'tis apretty pass when a woman with the cares of an household must comerunning light-toe and clatter-heel to every call of such a lazy lout. Husband, indeed--not house-band but house-bond, I wot--house-torment, house-thorn, house-cross--" A sonsy, well-favoured, middle-aged head, strangely at variance withthe words which came from it, peeped out, and instantly the scoldingbrattle was stilled. Back went the head into the dark of the house asif shot from a bombard. Malise MacKim indulged in a low hoarse chuckle as he caught the words:"Eh, 'tis my Lord William! Save us, and me wanting my Ryssil gown thatcost me ten silver shillings the ell, and no even so muckle as mywhite peaked cap upon my head. " Her husband glanced at the young Earl to see if he appreciated thesavour of the jest. Then he looked away, turning the enjoyment overand over under his own tongue, and muttering: "Ah, well, 'tis not hisfault. No man hath a sense of humour before he is forty years of hisage--and, for that matter, 'tis all the riper at fifty. " The young man's eyes were looking this way and that, up and down thesmooth pathway which skirted like a green selvage the shores of theloch. "Malise, " he said, as if he had already forgotten his late eager questfor the little Magdalen, "Darnaway here has a shoe loose, andto-morrow I ride to levy, and may also joust a bout in the tilt-yardof the afternoon. I would not ask you to work in Whitsuntide, but thatthere cometh my Lord Fleming and Alan Lauder of the Bass, bringingwith them an embassy from France--and I hear there may be fair ladiesin their company. " "Ah!" quoth Malise, grimly, "so I have heard it said concerning theembassies of Charles, King of France!" But the young man only smiled, and dusted off one or two flecks offoam which had blown backwards from his horse's bit upon the richcrimson doublet of finest velvet, which, cinctured closely at thewaist, fell half-way to his knees in heavy double pleats sewn withgold. A hunting horn of black and gold was suspended about his neck bya bandolier of dark leather, subtiley embroidered with bosses of gold. Laced boots of soft black hide, drawn together on the outside fromankle to mid-calf with a golden cord, met the scarlet "chausses" whichcovered his thighs and outlined the figure of him who was the noblestyouth and the most gallant in all the realm of Scotland. Earl William wore no sword. Only a little gold-handled poignard with alady's finger ring set upon the point of the hilt was at his side, andhe stood resting easily his hand upon it as he talked, drawing it aninch from its sheath and snicking it back again nonchalantly, with asound like the clicking of a well-oiled lock. "Clink the strokes strongly and featly, Malise, for to-morrow, when theBlack Douglas rides upon Black Darnaway under the eyes of--well--ofthe ladies whom the ambassadors are bringing to greet me, there mustbe no stumbling and no mistakes. Or on the head of Malise MacKim thematter shall be, and let that wight remember that the Douglas does notkeep a dule tree up there by the Gallows Slock for nothing. " The mighty smith was by this time examining the hoofs of the Earl'scharger one by one with such instinctive delicacy of touch thatDarnaway felt the kindly intent, and, bending his neck about, blew andsnuffled into the armourer's tangled mat of crisp grey hair. "Up there!" exclaimed MacKim, as the warm breath tickled his neck, andat the burst of sound the steed shifted and clattered upon thehard-beaten floor of the smithy, tossing his head till the bridlechains rang again. "Eh, my Lord William, " an altered voice came from the door-step, whereDame Barbara MacKim, now clothed and in her right mind, stood loutinglow before the young Earl, "but this is a blythe and calamitatious dayfor this poor bit bigging o' the Carlinwark--to think that your honourshould visit his servants! Will you no come ben and sit doon in thehouse-place? 'Tis far from fitting for your feet to pass thereupon. But gin ye will so highly favour--" "Nay, I thank you, good Dame Barbara, " said the Earl, very courteouslytaking off the close-fitting black cap with the red feather in itwhich was upon his head. "I must bide but a moment for your husband toset right certain nails in the hoofs of Darnaway here, to ready me forthe morrow. Do you come to see the sport? So buxom a dame as themistress of Carlinwark should not be absent to encourage the lads todo their best at the sword-play and the rivalry of the butts. " And as the dame came forth courtesying and bowing her delightedthanks, Earl William, setting a forefinger under her triple chin, stooped and kissed her in his gayest and most debonair manner. "Eh, only to think on't, " cried the dame, clapping her hands togetheras she did at mass, "that I, Barbara MacKim, that am marriet to adonnert auld carle like Malise there, should hae the privileege o' asalute frae the bonny mou' o' Yerl William--(Thank ye kindly, mylord!)--and be inveeted to the weepen-shawing to sit amang the leddiesand view the sport. Malise, my man, caa' ye no that an honour, aprivileege? Is that no owing to me being the sister--on my faither'sside--o' Ninian Halliburton, merchant and indweller in Dumfries?" "Nay, nay, good dame, " laughed the Earl, "'tis all for the sake ofyour own very sufficient charms! I trust that your good man here isnot jealous, for beauty, you well do ken, ever sends the wits of aDouglas woolgathering. Nevertheless, let us have a draught of yourhome-brewed ale, for kissing is but dry work, after all, and little doI think of it save" (he set his cap on his head with a gallant wave ofhis hand) "in the case of a lady so fair and tempting as Dame BarbaraMacKim!" At this the dame cast up her hands and her eyes again. "Eh, what willMarget Ahanny o' the Shankfit say noo--this frae the Yerl William. Eh, sirce, this is better than an Abbot's absolution. I declare 'tis mairsustainin' than a' the consolations o' religion. Malise, do you hear, great dour cuif that ye are, what says my lord? And you to think solittle of your married wife as ye do! Think shame, you being what yeare, and me the ain sister to that master o' merchandise and Bailie o'Dumfries, Maister Ninian Halliburton o' the Vennel!" And with that she vanished into the black oblong of the door oppositethe smithy. CHAPTER II MY FAIR LADY The strong man of Carlinwark made no long job of the horseshoeing. For, as he hammered and filed, he marked the eye of the young Earlrestlessly straying this way and that along the green riverside paths, and his fingers nervously tapping the ashen casing of the smithywindow-sill. Malise MacKim smiled to himself, for he had not served aDouglas for thirty years without knowing by these signs that there wasthe swing of a kirtle in the case somewhere. Presently the last nail was made firm, and Black Darnaway was led, passaging and tossing his bridle reins, out upon the green sward. Malise stood at his head till the Douglas swung himself into thesaddle with a motion light as the first upward flight of a bird. He put his hand into a pocket in the lining of his "soubreveste" andtook out a golden "Lion" of the King's recent mintage. He spun it inthe air off his thumb and then looked at it somewhat contemptuously ashe caught it. "I think you and I, Master-Armourer, could send out a better coinagethan that with the old Groat press over there at Thrieve!" he said. Malise smiled his quiet smile. "If the Earl of Douglas deigns to make me the master of his mint, Ipromise him plenty of good, sound, broad pieces of a nobledesign--that is, till Chancellor Crichton hangs me for coining in theGrassmarket of Edinburgh. " "That would he never, with the Douglas lances to prick you a way outand the Douglas gold to buy the good-will of traitorous judges!" Half unconsciously the Earl sighed as he looked at the fair lakegrowing rosy in the light of the sunset. His boyish face wasoverspread with care, and for the moment seemed all too young to haveinherited so great a burden. But the next moment he was himself again. "I know, Malise, " he said, "that I cannot offer you gold in return foryour admirable handicraft. But 'tis nigh to Keltonhill Fair, do youdivide this gold Lion betwixt those two brave boys of yours. Faith, right glad was I to be Earl of Douglas and not a son of his masterarmourer when I saw you disciplining for their souls' good MessiresSholto and Laurence there!" The smith smiled grimly. "They are good enough lads, Sholto and Laurence both, but they will befor ever gnarring and grappling at each other like messan dogs round akirk door. " "They will not make the worse soldiers for that, Malise. I pray youforgive them for my sake. " The master armourer took the hand of his young lord on which he wasabout to draw a riding glove of Spanish leather. Very reverently hekissed the signet ring upon it. "My dear lord, " he said, "I can refuse naught to any of your great andgracious house, and least of all to you, the light and pleasure ofit--aye, and the light of a surly old man's heart, more even than theduty he owes to his own married wife! Oh, be careful, my lord, for youare the desire of many hearts and the hope of all this land. " He hesitated a moment, and then added with a kind of curiousbashfulness-- "But I am concerned about ye this nicht, William Douglas--I fear thatye could not--would not permit me--" "Could not permit what--out with it, old grumble-pate?" "That I should saddle my Flanders mare and ride after you. MaliseMacKim would not be in the way even if ye went a-trysting. He kensbrawly, in such a case, when to turn his head and look upon the hillsand the woods and the bonny sleeping waters. " The Earl laughed and shook his head. "Na, na, Malise, " he said, "were I indeed on such a quest the sight ofyour grey pow would fright a fair lady, and the mere trampling of thatclub-footed she-elephant of yours put to flight every sentiment oflove. Remember the Douglas badge is a naked heart. Can I ridea-courting, therefore, with all my fighting tail behind me as though Ibesought an alliance with the King of England's daughter?" Silently and sadly the strong man watched the young Earl ride away tothe south along that fair lochside. He stood muttering to himself andlooking long under his hand after his lord. The rider bowed his headas he passed under the rich blazonry of the white May-blossom, which, like creamy lace, covered the Three Thorns of Carlinwark, now deeplystained with rose colour from the clouds of sunset. [Illustration: WILLIAM OF DOUGLAS REINED UP DARNAWAY UNDERNEATHTHE WHISPERING FOLIAGE OF A GREAT BEECH. ] "Aye, aye, " he said, "the Douglas badge is indeed a heart--but it is ableeding heart. God avert the omen, and keep this young man safe--forthough many love him, there be more that would rejoice at his fall. " The rider on Black Darnaway rode right into the saffron eye of thesunset. On his left hand Carlinwark and its many islets burned richwith spring-green foliage, all splashed with the golden sunset light. Darnaway's well-shod hoofs sent the diamond drops flying, as, withobvious pleasure, he trampled through the shallows. Ben Gairn andScreel, boldly ridged against the southern horizon, stood out in darkamethyst against the glowing sky of even, but the young rider never somuch as turned his head to look at them. Presently, however, he emerged from among the noble lakeside treesupon a more open space. Broom and whin blossom clustered yellow andorange beneath him, garrisoning with their green spears and goldenbanners every knoll and scaur. But there were broad spaces of turfhere and there on which the conies fed, or fought terrible battles forthe meek ear-twitching does, "spat-spatting" at each other with theirfore paws and springing into the air in their mating fury. William of Douglas reined up Darnaway underneath the whisperingfoliage of a great beech, for all at unawares he had come upon a sightthat interested him more than the noble prospect of the May sunset. In the centre of the golden glade, and with all their faces mistilyglorified by the evening light, he saw a group of little girls, singing and dancing as they performed some quaint and gracefulpageant of childhood. Their young voices came up to him with a wistful, dying fall, and theslow, graceful movement of the rhythmic dance seemed to affect theyoung man strangely. Involuntarily he lifted his close-fittingfeathered cap from his head, and allowed the cool airs to blow againsthis brow. _"See the robbers passing by, passing by, passing by, See the robbers passing by, My fair lady!"_ The ancient words came up clearly and distinctly to him, and softenedhis heart with the indefinable and exquisite pathos of the refrainwhenever it is sung by the sweet voices of children. "These are surely but cottars' bairns, " he said, smiling a little athis own intensity of feeling, "but they sing like little angels. Idaresay my sweetheart Magdalen is amongst them. " And he sat still listening, patting Black Darnaway meanwhile on theneck. _"What did the robbers do to you, do to you, do to you, What did the robbers do to you, My fair lady?"_ The first two lines rang out bold and clear. Then again thewistfulness of the refrain played upon his heart as if it had been aninstrument of strings, till the tears came into his eyes at thewondrous sorrow and yearning with which one voice, the sweetest andpurest of all, replied, singing quite alone: _"They broke my lock and stole my gold, stole my gold, stole my gold, Broke my lock and stole my gold, My fair lady!"_ The tears brimmed over in the eyes of William Douglas, and a deepforeboding of the mysteries of fate fell upon his heart and abodethere heavy as doom. He turned his head as though he felt a presence near him, and lo!sudden and silent as the appearing of a phantom, another horse wasalongside of Black Darnaway, and upon a white palfrey a maiden dressedalso in white sat, smiling upon the young man, fair to look upon as anangel from heaven. Earl William's lips parted, but he was too surprised to speak. Nevertheless, he moved his hand to his head in instinctive salutation;but, finding his bonnet already off, he could only stare at the visionwhich had so suddenly sprung out of the ground. The lady slowly waved her hand in the direction of the children, whoseyoung voices still rang clear as cloister bells tolling out theAngelus, and whose white dresses waved in the light wind as theydanced back and forth with a slow and graceful motion. "You hear, Earl William, " she said, in a low, thrilling voice, speaking with a foreign accent, "you hear? You are a good Christian, doubtless, and you have heard from your uncle, the Abbot, how praiseis made perfect 'out of the mouths of babes and sucklings. ' Hark tothem; they sing of their own destinies--and it may be also of yoursand mine. " And so fascinated and moved at heart at once by her beauty and by herstrange words, the Douglas listened. _"What did the robbers do to you, do to you, do to you, What did the robbers do to you, My fair lady?"_ The lady on the delicately pacing palfrey turned the darkness of hereyes from the white-robed choristers to the face of the young man. Then, with an impetuous motion of her hand, she urged him to listenfor the next words, which swept over Earl William's heart with acadence of unutterable pain and inexplicable melancholy. _"They broke my lock and stole my gold, stole my gold, stole my gold, Broke my lock and stole my gold, My fair lady!"_ He turned upon his companion with a quick energy, as if he were afraidof losing himself again. "Who are you, lady, and what do you here?" The girl (for in years she was little more) smiled and reined hersteed a little back from him with an air at once prettily petulant andteasing. "Is that spoken as William Douglas or as the Justicer of Galloway--acountry where, as I understand, there is no trial by jury?" The light of a radiant smile passed from her lips into his soul. "It is spoken as a man speaks to a woman beautiful and queenly, " hesaid, not removing his eyes from her face. "I fear I may have startled you, " she said, without continuing thesubject. "Even as I came I saw you were wrapped in meditation, and mypalfrey going lightly made no sound on the grass and leaves. " Her voice was so sweet and low that William Douglas, listening to it, wished that she would speak on for ever. "The hour grows late, " he said, remembering himself. "You must havefar to ride. Let me be your escort homewards if you have none worthierthan I. " "Alas, " she answered, smiling yet more subtly, "I have no home nearby. My home is very far and over many turbulent seas. I have but amaiden's pavilion in which to rest my head. Yet since I and my companymust needs travel through your domains, Earl William, I trust you willnot be so cruel as to forbid us?" "Yes, "--he was smiling now in turn, and catching somewhat of the gayspirit of the lady, --"as overlord of all this province I do forbid youto pass through these lands of Galloway without first visiting me inmy house of Thrieve!" The lady clapped her hands and laughed, letting her palfrey paceonwards through the woodland glades bridle free, while Black Darnaway, compelled by his master's hand, followed, tossing his head indignantlybecause it had been turned from the direction of his nightly stable onthe Castle Isle. CHAPTER III TWO RIDING TOGETHER "Joyous, " she cried, as they went, "Oh, most joyous would it be to seethe noble castle and to have all the famous two thousand knights tomake love to me at once! To capture two thousand hearts at one sweepof the net! What would Margaret of France herself say to that?" "Is there no single heart sufficient to satisfy you, fair maid?" saidthe young man, in a low voice; "none loyal enough nor large enough foryou that you desire so many?" "And what would I do with one if it were in my hands, " she saidwistfully; "that is, if it were a worthy heart and one worth thetaking. Ever since I was a child I have always broken my toys when Itired of them. " The voices of the singing children on the green came more faintly totheir ears, but the words were still clear to be understood. _"Off to prison you must go, you must go, you must go, Off to prison you must go, My fair lady!"_ "You hear? It is my fate!" she said. "Nay, " answered the Earl, passionately, still looking in her eyes. "Mine, mine--not yours! Gladly I would go to prison or to death forthe love of one so fair!" "My lord, my lord, " she laughed, with a tolerant protest in her voice, "you keep up the credit of your house right nobly. How goes thedistich? My mother taught it me upon the bridge of Avignon, where alsoas here in Scotland the children dance and sing. " "First in the love of Woman, First in the field of fight, First in the death that men must die, Such is the Douglas' right!" "Here and now, " he said, still looking at her, "'tis only the first Icrave. " "Earl William, positively you must come to Court!" she shrilled intosudden tinkling laughter; "there be ladies there more worthy of yourardour than a poor errant maiden such as I. " "A Court, " cried Earl William, scornfully, "to the Seneschal's court!Nay, truly. Could a Stewart ever keep his faith or pay his debts?Never, since the first of them licked his way into a lady's favour. " "Oh, " she answered lightly, "I meant not the Court of Stirling nor yetthe Chancellor's Castle of Edinburgh. I meant the only greatCourt--the Court of France, the Court of Charles the Seventh, theCourt which already owns the sway of its rarest ornament, your ownScottish Princess Margaret. " "Thither I cannot go unless the King of France grants me my father'srights and estates!" he said, with a certain sternness in his tone. "Let me look at your hand, " she answered, with a gentle inclinationof her fair head, from which the lace that had shrouded it nowstreamed back in the cool wind of evening. Stopping Darnaway, the young Earl gave the girl his hand, and thewhite palfrey came to rest close beneath the shoulder of the black warcharger. "To-morrow, " she said, looking at his palm, "to-morrow you will beDuke of Touraine. I promise it to you by my power of divination. Doesthat satisfy you?" "I fear you are a witch, or else a being compound of rarer elementsthan mere flesh and blood, " said the Earl. "Is that a spirit's hand, " she said, laughing lightly and giving herown rosy fingers into his, "or could even the Justicer of Gallowayfind it in his heart to burn these as part of the body of a witch?" She shuddered and pretended to gaze piteously up at him from under thelong lashes which hardly raised themselves from her cheek. "Spirit-slender, spirit-white they are, " he replied, "and as for beingthe fingers of a witch--doubtless you are a witch indeed. But I willnot burn so fair things as these, save as it might be with thefervours of my lips. " And he stooped and pressed kiss after kiss upon her hand. Gently she withdrew her fingers from his grasp and rode further apart, yet not without one backward glance of perfectest witchery. "I doubt you have been overmuch at Court already, " she said. "I didnot well to ask you to go thither. " "Why must I not go thither?" he asked. "Because I shall be there, " she replied softly, courting him yet againwith her eyes. As they rode on together through the rich twilight dusk, the young manobserved her narrowly as often as he could. Her skin was fair with a dazzling clearness, which even the gatheringgloom only caused to shine with a more perfect brilliance, as if ahalo of light dwelt permanently beneath its surface. Faint responsiveroses bloomed on either cheek and, as it seemed, cast a shadow oftheir colour down her graceful neck. Dark eyes shone above, fresh anddewy with love and youth, and smiled out with all ancientestwitcheries and allurements in their depths. Her lithe, slender bodywas simply clad in a fair white cloth of some foreign fabric, and herwaist, of perfectest symmetry, was cinctured by a broad ring of solidsilver, which, to the young man, looked so slender that he could haveclasped it about with both his hands. So they rode on, through the woods mostly, until they reached a regionwhich to the Earl appeared unfamiliar. The glades were greener anddenser. The trees seemed more primeval, the foliage thicker overhead, the interspaces of the golden evening sky darker and less frequent. "In what place may your company be assembled?" he asked. "Strange itis that I know not this spot. Yet I should recognise each tree byconning it, and of every rivulet in Galloway I should be able to tellthe name. Yet with shame do I confess that I know not where I am. " "Ah, " said the girl, her face growing luminous through the gloom, "youcalled me a witch, and now you shall see. I wave my hands, so--and youare no more in Galloway. You are in the land of faëry. I blow you akiss, so--and lo! you are no more William, sixth Earl of Douglas andproximate Duke of Touraine, but you are even as True Thomas, theBeloved of the Queen of the Fairies, and the slave of her spell!" "I am indeed well content to be Thomas Rhymer, " he answered, submitting himself to the wooing glamour of her eyes, "so be that youare the Lady of the milk-white hind!" "A courtier indeed, " she laughed; "you need not to seek your answer. You make a poor girl afraid. But see, yonder are the lights of mypavilion. Will it please you to alight and enter? The supper will bespread, and though you must not expect any to entertain you, save onlythis your poor Queen Mab" (here she made him a little bow), "yet Ithink you will not be ill content. They do not say that Thomas ofErcildoune had any cause for complaint. Do you know, " she continued, afresh gaiety striking into her voice, "it was in this very wood thathe was lost. " But William Douglas sat silent with the wonder of what he saw. Theirhorses had all at once come out on a hilltop. The sequestered boskageof the trees had gradually thinned, finally dwarfing into a greendrift of fern and birchen foliage which rose no higher than BlackDarnaway's chest, and through which his rider's laced boots brushedtill the Spanish leather of their gold-embossed frontlets was alljetted with gouts of dew. Before him swept horizonwards a great upward drift of solemn pinetrees, the like of which for size he had never seen in all his domain. Or so, at least, it seemed in that hour of mystery and glamour. Forbehind them the evening sky had dulled to a deep and solemn wash ofblood red, across which lay one lonely bar of black cloud, solid asspilled ink on a monkish page. But under the trees themselves, blazingwith lamps and breathing odours of all grace and daintiness, stood alighted pavilion of rose-coloured silk, anchored to the ground withropes of sendal of the richest crimson hue. "Let your horse go free, or tether him to a pine; in either case hewill not wander far, " said the girl. "I fear my fellows have gone offto lay in provisions. We have taken a day or two more on the way thanwe had counted on, so that to-night's feast makes an end of our store. But still there is enough for two. I bid you welcome, Earl William, toa wanderer's tent. There is much that I would say to you. " CHAPTER IV THE ROSE-RED PAVILION As the young Earl paused a moment without to tether Black Darnaway toa fallen trunk of a pine, a chill and melancholy wind seemed to risesuddenly and toss the branches dark against the sky. Then it flew offmoaning like a lost spirit, till he could hear the sound of itspassage far down the valley. An owl hooted and a swart ravendisengaged himself from the coppice about the door of the pavilion, and fluttered away with a croak of disdainful anger. Black Darnawayturned his head and whinnied anxiously after his master. But William Douglas, though little more than a boy if men's ages areto be counted by years, was yet a true child of Archibald the Grim, and he passed through the mysterious encampment to the door of thelighted pavilion with a carriage at once firm and assured. He couldfaintly discern other tents and pavilions set further off, withpennons and bannerets, which the passing gust had blown flapping fromthe poles, but which now hung slackly about their staves. "I would give a hundred golden St. Andrews, " he muttered, "if I couldmake out the scutcheon. It looks most like a black dragon couchant ona red field, which is not a Scottish bearing. The lady is French, doubtless, and passes through from Ireland to visit the Chancellor'sCourt at Edinburgh. " The Black Douglas paused a moment at the tent-flap, which, being ofsilken fabric lined with heavier material, hung straight and heavy tothe ground. "Come in, my lord, " cried the low and thrilling voice of his companionfrom within. "With both hands I bid you welcome to my poor abode. Atraveller must not be particular, and I have only those condimentswith me which my men have brought from shipboard, knowing how poor wasthe provision of your land. See, do you not already repent yourpromise to sup with me?" She pointed to the table on which sparkled cut glass of Venice andrich wreathed ware of goldsmiths' work. On these were set out orangesand rare fruits of the Orient, such as the young man had never seen inhis own bleak and barren land. But the Douglas did no more than glance at the luxury of theproviding. A vision fairer and more beautiful claimed his eyes. Foreven as he paused in amazement, the lady herself stood before him, transformed and, as it seemed, glorified. In the interval she hadtaken off the cloak which, while on horseback, she had worn fallingfrom her shoulders. A thin robe of white silk broidered with gold atonce clothed and revealed her graceful and gracious figure, even as aglove covers but does not conceal the hand upon which it is drawn. Whether by intent or accident, the collar had been permitted to fallaside at the neck and showed the dazzling whiteness of the skinbeneath, but at the bosom it was secured by a button set with blackpearls which constituted the lady's only ornament. Her arms also were bare, and showed in the lamplight whiter than milk. She had removed the silver belt, and was tying a red silken scarfabout her waist in a manner which revealed a swift grace and lithesinuosity of movement, making her beauty appear yet more wonderful andmore desirable to the young man's eyes. On either side the pavilion were placed folding couches of rosy silk, and in the corner, draped with rich blue hangings, glimmered thelady's bed, its fair white linen half revealed. Two embroideredpillows were at the foot, and on a little table beside it a crystalball on a black platter. No crucifix or _prie-dieu_, such as in those days was in every lady'sbower, could be discerned anywhere about the pavilion. So soon as the tent-flap had fallen with a soft rustle behind him, theEarl William abandoned himself to the strange enchantment of hissurroundings. He did not stop to ask himself how it was possible thatsuch dainty providings had been brought into the midst of his wide, wild realm of Galloway. Nor yet why this errant damsel should in thedarksome night-time find herself alone on this hilltop with the tentsof her retinue standing empty and silent about. The present sufficedhim. The soft radiance of dark eyes fell upon him, and all thequick-running, inconsiderate Douglas blood rushed and sang in hisveins, responsive to that subtle shining. He was with a fair woman, and she not unwilling to be kind. That wasever enough for all the race of the Black Douglas. What the RedDouglas loved is another matter. Their ambitions were more reputable, but greatly less generous. "My lord, " said the lady, giving him her hand, "will you lead me tothe table? I cannot offer you the refreshment of any elaboratetoilet, but here, at least, is wheaten bread to eat and wine of a goodvintage to drink. " "You yourself scarce need such earthly sustenance, " he answeredgallantly, "for your eyes have stolen the radiance of the stars, and'tis evident that the night dews visit your cheek only as they do theroses--to render them more fresh and fair. " "My lord flatters well for one so young;" she smiled as she seatedherself and motioned him to sit close beside her. "How comes it thatin this wild place you have learned to speak so chivalrously?" "When one answers beauty the words are somehow given, " he said, "and, moreover, I have not dwelt in grey Galloway all my days. " "You speak French?" she queried in that tongue. "Ah, " she said when he answered, "the divine language. I knew you wereperfect. " And so for a long while the young man sat spellbound, watching the smiles coming and going upon her red and flower-likelips, and listening to the fast-running ripple of her foreign talk. Itwas pleasure enough to hearken without reply. It seemed no common food of mortal men that was set before WilliamDouglas, served with the sweep of white arms and the bend of delicatefingers upon the chalice stem. He did not care to eat, but again andagain he set the wine cup down empty, for the vintage was new to him, and brought with it a haunting aroma, instinct with strange hopes andvivid with unknown joys. The pavilion, with its cords of sendal and its silver hanging lamps, spun round about him. The fair woman herself seemed to dissolve andreunite before his eyes. She had let down the full-fed river of herhair, and it flowed in the Venetian fashion over her white shoulders, sparkling with an inner fire--each fine silken thread, as it glitteredseparate from its fellows, twining like a golden snake. And the ripple of her laughter played upon the young man's heartcarelessly as a lute is touched by the hands of its mistress. Something of the primitive glamour of the night and the stars clung tothis woman. It seemed a thing impossible that she should be less purethan the air and the waters, than the dewy grass beneath and the skycool overhead. He knew not that the devil sat from the first day ofcreation on Eden wall, that human sin is all but as eternal as humangood, and that passion rises out of its own ashes like the phoenixbird of fable and stands again all beautiful before us, a creature offire and dew. Presently the lady rose to her feet, and gave the Earl her hand tolead her to a couch. "Set a footstool by me, " she bade him, "I desire to talk to you. " "You know not my name, " she said, after a pause that was like acaress, "though I know yours. But then the sun in mid-heaven cannot behidden, though nameless bide the thousand stars. Shall I tell youmine? It is a secret; nevertheless, I will tell you if such be yourdesire. " "I care not whether you tell me or no, " he answered, looking up intoher face from the low seat at her feet. "Birth cannot add to yourbeauty, nor sparse quarterings detract from your charm. I have enoughof both, good lack! And little good they are like to do me. " "Shall I tell you now, " she went on, "or will you wait till you convoyme to Edinburgh?" "To Edinburgh!" cried the young man, greatly astonished. "I have nopurpose of journeying to that town of mine enemies. I have beencounselled oft by those who love me to remain in mine own country. Myhoroscope bids me refrain. Not for a thousand commands of King orChancellor will I go to that dark and bloody town, wherein they saylies waiting the curse of my house. " "But you will go to please a woman?" she said, and leaned nearer tohim, looking deep into his eyes. For a moment William Douglas wavered. For a moment he resisted. Butthe dark, steadfast orbs thrilled him to the soul, and his own heartrose insurgent against his reason. "I will come if you ask me, " he said. "You are more beautiful than Ihad dreamed any woman could be. " "I do ask you!" she continued, without removing her eyes from hisface. "Then I will surely come!" he replied. She set her hand beneath his chin and bent smilingly and lightly tokiss him, but with an imprisoned passionate cry the young man suddenlyclasped her in his arms. Yet even as he did so, his eyes fell upon twofigures, which, silent and motionless, stood by the open door of thepavilion. CHAPTER V THE WITCH WOMAN One of these was Malise the Smith, towering like a giant. His handsrested on the hilt of a mighty sword, whose blade sparkled in thelamplight as if the master armourer had drawn it that moment from themidst of his charcoal fire. A little in front of Malise there stood another figure, less imposingin physical proportions, but infinitely more striking in dignity andapparel. This second was a man of tall and spare frame, of acountenance grave and severe, yet with a certain kindly power latentin him also. He was dressed in the white robe of a Cistercian, withthe black scapulary of the order. On his head was the mitre, and inhis hand the staff of the abbot of a great establishment which hewears when he goes visiting his subsidiary houses. More remarkablethan all was the monk's likeness to the young man who now stood beforehim with an expression of indignant surprise on his face, which slowlymerged into anger as he understood why these two men were there. He recognised his uncle the Abbot William Douglas, the head of thegreat Abbey of Dulce Cor upon Solway side. This was he who, being the son and heir of the brother of the firstDuke of Touraine, had in the flower of his age suddenly renounced hisdomains of Nithsdale that he might take holy orders, and who had eversince been renowned throughout all Scotland for high sanctity and amultitude of good works. The pair stood looking towards the lady and William Douglas withoutspeech, a kind of grim patience upon their faces. It was the Earl who was the first to speak. "What seek you here so late, my lord Abbot?" he said, with all thehaughtiness of the unquestioned head of his mighty house. "Nay, what seeks the Earl William here alone so late?" answered theAbbot, with equal directness. The two men stood fronting each other. Malise leaned upon histwo-handed sword and gazed upon the ground. "I have come, " the Abbot went on, after vainly waiting for the youngEarl to offer an explanation, "as your kinsman, tutor, and councillor, to warn you against this foreign witch woman. What seeks she here inthis land of Galloway but to do you hurt? Have we not heard her withour own ears persuade you to accompany her to Edinburgh, which is acity filled with the power and deadly intent of your enemies?" Earl William bowed ironically to his uncle, and his eye glittered asit fell upon Malise MacKim. "I thank you, Uncle, " he said. "I am deeply indebted for your so greatinterest in me. I thank you too, Malise, for bringing about thistimely interference. I will pay my debts one day. In the meantime yourduty is done. Depart, both of you, I command you!" Outside the thunder began to growl in the distance. An extraordinaryfeeling of oppression had slowly filled the air. The lamps, swingingon the pavilion roof tree, flickered and flared, alternately risingand sinking like the life in the eyes of a dying man. All the while the lady sat still on the couch, with an expression ofamused contempt on her face. But now she rose to her feet. "And I also ask, in the name of the King of France, by what right doyou intrude within the precincts of a lady's bower. I bid you to leaveme!" She pointed imperiously with her white finger to the black, oblongdoorway, from which Malise's rude hand had dragged the covering flapto the ground. But the churchman and his guide stood their ground. Suddenly the Abbot reached a hand and took the sword on which themaster armourer leaned. With its point he drew a wide circle upon therich carpets which formed the floor of the pavilion. "William Douglas, " he said, "I command you to come within this circle, whilst in the right of my holy office I exorcise that demon there whohath so nearly beguiled you to your ruin. " The lady laughed a rich ringing laugh. "These are indeed high heroics for so plain and poor an occasion. Ineed not to utter a word of explanation. I am a lady travellingpeaceably under escort of an ambassador of France, through a Christiancountry. By chance, I met the Earl Douglas, and invited him to supwith me. What concern, spiritual or temporal, may that be of yours, most reverend Abbot? Who made you my lord Earl's keeper?" "Woman or demon from the pit!" said the Abbot, sternly, "think not todeceive William Douglas, the aged, as you have cast the glamour overWilliam Douglas, the boy. The lust of the flesh abideth no more forever in this frail tabernacle. I bid thee, let the lad go, for he isdear to me as mine own soul. Let him go, I say, ere I curse thee withthe curse of God the Almighty!" The lady continued to smile, standing meantime slender and fair beforethem, her bosom heaving a little with emotion, and her hair ripplingin red gold confusion down her back. "Certainly, my lord Earl came not upon compulsion. He is free toreturn with you, if he yet be under tutors and governors, or afraid ofthe master's stripes. Go, Earl William, I made a mistake; I thoughtyou had been a man. But since I was wrong I bid you get back to themonk's chapter house, to clerkly copies and childish toys. " Then black and sullen anger glared from the eyes of the Douglas. "Get hence, " he cried. "Hence, both of you--you, Uncle William, ere Iforget your holy office and your kinsmanship; you, Malise, that I maysettle with to-morrow ere the sun sets. I swear it by my word as aDouglas. I will never forgive either of you for this night's work!" The fair white hand was laid upon his wrist. "Nay, " said the lady, "do not quarrel with those you love for my poorsake. I am indeed little worth the trouble. Go back with them inpeace, and forget her who but sat by your side an hour neither doingyou harm nor thinking it. " "Nay, " he cried, "that will I not. I will show them that I am oldenough to choose my company for myself. Who is my uncle that heshould dictate to me that am an earl of Douglas and a peer of France, or my servant that he should come forth to spy upon his master?" "Then, " she whispered, smiling, "you will indeed abide with me?" He gave her his hand. "I will abide with you till death! Body and soul, I am yours alone!" "By the holy cross of our Lord, that shall you not!" cried Malise;"not though you hang me high as Haman for this ere the morrow's morn!" And with these words he sprang forward and caught his master by thewrist. With one strong pull of his mighty arm he dragged him withinthe circle which the Abbot had marked out with the sword's point. The lady seemed to change colour. For at that moment a gust of windcaused the lamps to flicker, and the outlines of her white-robedfigure appeared to waver like an image cast in water. "I adjure and command you, in the name of God the One and Omnipotent, to depart to your own place, spirit or devil or whatever you may be!" The voice of the Abbot rose high above the roaring of the burstingstorm without. The lady seemed to reach an arm across the circle as ifeven yet to take hold of the young man. The Abbot thrust forward hiscrucifix. And then the bolt of God fell. The whole pavilion was illuminated witha flash of light so intense and white that it appeared to blind andburn up all about. The lady was seen no more. The silken coveringblazed up. Malise plunged outward into the darkness of the storm, carrying his young master lightly as a child in his arms, while theAbbot kept his feet behind him like a boat in a ship's wake. Thethunder roared overhead like the sea bellowing in a cave's mouth, andthe great pines bent their heads away from the mighty wind, strainingand creaking and lashing each other in their blind fury. Malise and the Abbot seemed to hear about them the plunging ofriderless horses as they stumbled downwards through the night, theirpath lit by lightning flashes, green and lilac and keenest blue, andbearing between them the senseless form of William Earl of Douglas. CHAPTER VI THE PRISONING OF MALISE THE SMITH [Now these things, material to the life and history of William, sixthEarl of Douglas, are not written from hearsay, but were chronicledwithin his lifetime by one who saw them and had part therein, thoughthe part was but a boy's one. His manuscript has come down to us andlies before the transcriber. Sholto MacKim, the son of Malise theSmith, testifies to these things in his own clerkly script. He addsparticularly that his brother Laurence, being at the time but a boy, had little knowledge of many of the actual facts, and is not to bebelieved if at any time he should controvert anything which he(Sholto) has written. So far, however, as the present collector andeditor can find out, Laurence MacKim appears to have been entirelysilent on the subject, at least with his pen, so that his brother'scaveat was superfluous. ] * * * * * The instant Lord William entered his own castle of Thrieve over thedrawbridge, and without even returning the salutations of his guard, he turned about to the two men who had so masterfully compelled hisreturn. "Ho, guard, there!" he cried, "seize me this instant the Abbot of theNew Abbey and Malise MacKim. " And so much surprised but wholly obedient, twenty archers of theEarl's guard, commanded by old John of Abernethy, called LandlessJock, fell in at back and front. Malise, the master armourer, stood silent, taking the matter with hisusual phlegm, but the Abbot was voluble. "William, " he said, holding out his hands with an appealing gesture, "I have laboured with you, striven with, prayed for you. To-night Icame forth through the storm, though an old man, to deliver you fromthe manifest snares of the devil--" But the Earl interrupted his recital without compunction. "Set Malise MacKim in the inner dungeon, " he cried. "Thrust his feetinto the great stocks, and let my lord Abbot be warded safely in thecastle chapel. He is little likely to be disturbed there at hisdevotions. " "Aye, my lord, it shall be done!" said Landless Jock, shaking hishead, however, with gloomy foreboding, as the haughty young Earl inhis wet and torn disarray flashed past him without further notice ofthe two men whom the might of his bare word had committed to prison. The Earl sprang up the narrow turret stairs, passing as he did sothrough the vaulted hall of the men-at-arms, where more than a hundredstout archers and spearmen sat carousing and singing, even at thatadvanced hour of the night, while as many more lay about the corridorsor on the wooden shelves which they used for sleeping upon, and whichfolded back against the wall during the day. At the first glimpse oftheir young master, every man left awake among them struggled to hisfeet, and stood stiffly propped, drunk or sober according to hiscondition, with his eyes turned towards the door which gave upon theturnpike stair. But with a slight wave of his hand the Earl passed onto his own apartment. Here he found his faithful body-servant, René le Blesois, stretchedacross the threshold. The staunch Frenchman rose mechanically at thenoise of his master's footsteps, and, though still soundly asleep, stood with the latch of the door in his hand, and the other heldstiffly to his brow in salutation. Left to his own devices, Lord William Douglas would doubtless havecast himself, wet as he was, upon his bed had not Le Blesois, observing his lord's plight even in his own sleep-dulled condition, entered the chamber after his master and, without question or speech, silently begun to relieve him of his wet hunting dress. A loosechamber gown of rich red cloth, lined with silk and furred with"cristy" grey, hung over the back of an oaken chair, and into this theyoung Earl flung himself in black and sullen anger. Le Blesois, still without a word spoken, left the room with the wetclothes over his arm. As he did so a small object rolled from somefold or crevice of the doublet, where it had been safely lodged tilldisplaced by the loosening of the belt, or the removing of thebanderole of his master's hunting horn. Le Blesois turned at the tinkling sound, and would have stopped tolift it up after the manner of a careful servitor. But the eye of hislord was upon the fallen object, and with an abrupt wave of his handtowards the door, and the single word "Go!" the Earl dismissed hisbody-servant from the room. Then rising hastily from his chair, he took the trinket in his handand carried it to the well-trimmed lamp which stood in a niche thatheld a golden crucifix. The Lord Douglas saw lying in his palm a ring of singular design. Themain portion was formed of the twisting bodies of a pair of snakes, the jewel work being very cunningly interlaced and perfectly finished. Their eyes were set with rubies, and between their open mouths theycarried an opal, shaped like a heart. The stone was translucent andfaintly luminous like a moonstone, but held in its heart one fleck ofruby red, in appearance like a drop of blood. By some curious trick oflight, in whatever position the ring was held, this drop stillappeared to be on the point of detaching itself and falling to theground. Earl William examined it in the flicker of the lamp. He turned itevery way, narrowly searching inside the golden band for a posy, butnot a word of any language could he find engraved upon it. "I saw the ring upon her hand--I am certain I saw it on her hand!" Hesaid these words over and over to himself. "It is then no dream that Ihave dreamed. " There came a low knocking at the door, a rustling and a whisperingwithout. Instantly the Earl thrust the ring upon his own finger withthe opal turned inward, and, with the dark anger mark of his racestrongly dinted upon his fair young brow, he faced the unseenintruder. "Who is there?" he cried loudly and imperiously. The door opened with a rasping of the iron latch, and a little girlishfigure clothed from head to foot in a white night veil danced in. Sheclapped her hands at sight of him. "You are come back, " she cried; "and you have so fine a gown on too. But Maud Lindesay says it is very wrong to be out of doors so late, even if you are Earl of Douglas, and a great man now. Will you neverplay at 'Catch-as-catch-can' with David and me any more?" "Margaret, " said the young Earl, "what do you away from your chamberat all? Our mother will miss you, and I do not want her here to-night. Go back at once!" But the little wilful maiden, catching her skirts in her hands ateither side and raising them a little way from the ground, began todance a dainty _pas seul_, ending with a flashing whirl and a low bowin the direction of her audience. At this William Douglas could not choose but smile, and soon threwhimself down on the bed, setting his clasped hands behind his head, and contenting himself with looking at his little sister. Though at this time but eight years of age, Margaret of Douglas waspossessed of such extraordinary vitality and character that she seemedmore like eleven. She had the clear-cut, handsome Douglas face, thepale olive skin, the flashing dark eyes, and the crisp, blue-blackhair of her brother. A lithe grace and quickness, like those of abeautiful wild animal, were characteristic of every movement. "Our mother hath been anxious about you, brother mine, " said thelittle girl, tiring suddenly of her dance, and leaping upon the otherend of the couch on which her brother was reclining. Establishingherself opposite him, she pulled the coverlet up about her so thatpresently only her face could be seen peeping out from under thesilken folds. "Oh, I was so cold, but I am warmer now, " she cried. "And if MaidBetsy A'hannay comes to take me away, I want you to stretch out yourhand like this, and say: 'Seneschal, remove that besom to the deepdungeon beneath the castle moat, ' as we used to do in our plays beforeyou became a great man. Then I could stay very long and talk to youall through the night, for Maud Lindesay sleeps so sound that nothingcan awake her. " Gradually the anger passed out of the face of William Douglas as helistened to his sister's prattle, like the vapours from the surface ofa hill tarn when the sun rises in his strength. He even thought withsome self-reproach of his treatment of Malise and of his uncle theAbbot. But a glance at the ring on his finger, and the thought of whatmight have been his good fortune at that moment but for theirinterference, again hardened his resolution to adamant within hisbreast. His sister's voice, clear and high in its childish treble, recalledhim to himself. "Oh, William, and there is such news; I forgot, because I have been sooverbusied with arranging my new puppet's house that Malise made forme. But scarcely were you gone away on Black Darnaway ere a messengercame from our granduncle James at Avondale that he and my cousins Willand James arrive to-morrow at the Thrieve with a company to attend thewappenshaw. " The young man sprang to his feet, and dashed one hand into the palm ofthe other. "This is ill tidings indeed!" he cried. "What does the Fat Flattererat Castle Thrieve? If he comes to pay homage, it will be but amockery. Neither he nor Angus had ever any good-will to my father, andthey have none to me. " "Ah, do not be angry, William, " cried the little maid. "It will bebeautiful. They will come at a fitting time. For to-morrow is thegreat levy of the weapon-showing, and our cousins will see you in yourpride. And they will see me, too, in my best green sarcenet, riding ona white palfrey at your side as you promised. " "A weapon-showing is not a place for little girls, " said the Earl, mollified in spite of himself, casting himself down again on thecouch, and playing with the serpent ring on his finger. "Ah, now, " cried his sister, her quick eyes dancing everywhere atonce, "you are not attending to a single word I say. I know by yourvoice that you are not. That is a pretty ring you have. Did a ladygive it to you? Was it our Maudie? I think it must have been our Maud. She has many beautiful things, but mostly it is the young men who wishto give her such things. She never sends any of them back, but keepsthem in a box, and says that it is good to spoil the Egyptians. Andsometimes when I am tired she will tell me the history of each, andwhether he was dark or fair. Or make it all up just as good when sheforgets. But, oh, William, if I were a lady I should fall in love withnobody but you. For you are so handsome--yes, nearly as handsome as Iam myself--(she passed her hands lightly through her curls as shespoke). And you know I shall marry no one but a Douglas--only you mustnot ask me to wed my cousin William of Avondale, for he is so sternand solemn; besides, he has always a book in his pocket, and wishes meto learn somewhat out of it as if I were a monk. A Douglas should notbe a monk, he should be a soldier. " So she lay snugly on the bed and prattled on to her brother, who, buried in his thoughts and occupied with his ring, let the hours slipon till at the open door of the Earl's chamber there appeared the mostbewitching face in the world, as many in that castle and elsewherewere ready to prove at the sword's point. The little girl caught sightof it with a shrill cry of pleasure, instantly checked and hushed, however, at the thought of her mother. "O Maudie, " she cried, "come hither into William's room. He has such abeautiful ring that a lady gave him. I am sure a lady gave it him. Wasit you, Maud Lindesay? You are a sly puss not to tell me if it was. William, it is wicked and provoking of you not to tell me who gave youthat ring. If it had been some one you were not ashamed of, you wouldbe proud of the gift and confess. Whisper to me who it was. I will nottell any one, not even Maudie. " Her brother had risen to his feet with a quick movement, girding hisred gown about him as he rose. "Mistress Maud, " he said respectfully, "I fear I have given youanxiety by detaining your charge so late. But she is a wilful madam, as you have doubtless good cause to know, and ill to advise. " "She is a Douglas, " smiled the fair girl, who stood at the chamberdoor refusing his invitation to enter, with a flash of the eye and aquick shake of the head which betokened no small share of the samequalities; "is not that enough to excuse her for being wayward andheadstrong?" Earl William wasted no more words of entreaty upon his sister, butseized her in his arms, and pulling the coverlet in which she hadhuddled herself up with her pert chin on her knees, more closely abouther, he strode along the passage with her in his arms till he stoppedat an open door leading into a large chamber which looked to thesouth. "There, " he said, smiling at the girl who had followed behind him, "Iwill lock her in with you and take the key, that I may make sure oftwo such uncertain charges. " But the girl had deftly extracted the key even as she passed in afterhim, and as the bolts shot from within she cried: "I thank you rightcourteously, Lord William, but mine apothecary, fearing that the airof this isle of Thrieve might not agree with me, bade me ever to sleepwith the key of the door under my pillow. Against fevers and quinsies, cold iron is a sovereign specific. " And for all his wounded heart, Earl William smiled at the girl'ssauciness as he went slowly back to his chamber, taking, in spite ofhis earldom, pains to pass his mother's door on tiptoe. CHAPTER VII THE DOUGLAS MUSTER The day of the great weapon-showing broke fair and clear after thestorm of the night. The windows of heaven had had all their panescleaned, and even after it was daylight the brighter starsappeared--only, however, to wink out again when the sun arose andshone on the wet fields, coming forth rejoicing like a bridegroom fromhis chamber. And equally bright and strong came forth the young Earl, every traceof the anger and disappointment of the night having been removed fromhis face, if not from his mind, by the recreative and potent sleep ofyouth and health. In the hall he called for Sir John of Abernethy, nicknamed LandlessJock. "Conduct my uncle the Abbot from the chapel where he has been allnight at his devotions, to his chamber, and furnish him with what hemay require, and bring up Malise the Smith from the dungeon. Let himcome into my presence in the upper hall. " William Douglas went into a large oak-ceiled chamber, wide and high, running across the castle from side to side, and with windows thatlooked every way over the broad and fertile strath of Dee. Presently, with a trampling of mailed feet and the double rattle whichdenoted the grounding of a pair of steel-hilted partisans, Malise wasbrought to the door by two soldiers of the Earl's outer guard. The huge bulk of Brawny Kim filled up the doorway almost completely, and he stood watching the Douglas with an unmoved gravity which, inthe dry wrinkles about his eyes, almost amounted to humorousappreciation of the situation. Yet it was Malise who spoke first. For at his appearance the Earl hadturned his back upon his retainer, and now stood at the window thatlooks towards the north, from which he could see, over the broad andplacid stretches of the river, the men putting up the pavilions andstriking spears into the ground to mark out the spaces for the tourneyof the next day. "A fair good morrow to you, my lord, " said the smith. "Grievous as mysin has been, and just as is your resentment, give me leave to saythat I have suffered more than my deserts from the ill-made chains anduncouth manacles wherewith they confined me in the black dungeon downthere. I trow they must have been the workmanship of Ninian Lamont theHighlandman, who dares to call himself house-smith of Thrieve. I amready to die if it be your will, my lord; but if you are well advisedyou will hang Ninian beside me with a bracelet of his own rascalhandiwork about his neck. Then shall justice be satisfied, and MaliseMacKim will die happy. " The Earl turned and looked at his ancient friend. The wrinkles aboutthe brow were deeply ironical now, and the grey eyes of the masterarmourer twinkled with appreciation of his jest. "Malise, " cried his master, warningly, "do not play at cat's cradlewith the Douglas. You might tempt me to that I should afterwards besorry for. A man once dead comes not to life again, whatever monksprate. But tell me, how knew you whither I had gone yester-even? For, indeed, I knew not myself when I set out. And in any event, was it athing well done for my foster father to spy upon me the son who wasalso his lord?" The anger was mostly gone now out of the frank young face of the Earl, and only humiliation and resentment, with a touch of boyish curiosity, remained. "Indeed, " answered the smith, "I watched you not save under my hand asyou rode away upon Black Darnaway, and then I turned me to the seat bythe wall to listen to the cavillings of Dame Barbara, the humming ofthe bees, and the other comfortable and composing sounds of nature. " "How then did you come to follow me in the undesirable company of myuncle the Abbot?" "For that you are in the debt of my son Sholto, who, seeing a ladywait for you in the greenwood, climbed a tree, and there from amongstthe branches he was witness of your encounter. " "So--" said the Douglas, grimly, "it is to Master Sholto that I amindebted somewhat. " "Aye, " said his father, "do not forget him. For he is a good lad and abold, as indeed he proved to the hilt yestreen. " "In what consisted his boldness?" asked the Earl. "In that he dared come home to me with a cock-and-bull story of awitch lady, who appeared suddenly where none had been a moment before, and who had immediately enchanted my lord Earl. Well nigh did I twisthis neck, but he stuck to it. Then came riding by my lord Abbot on hisway to Thrieve, and I judged that the matter, as one of witchcraft, was more his affair than mine. " "Now hearken, " cried the Earl, in quick, high tones of anger, "letthere be no more of such folly, or on your life be it. The lady whomyou insulted was travelling with her company through Galloway fromFrance. She invited me to sup with her, and dared me to adventure toEdinburgh in her company. Answer me, wherein was the witchcraft ofthat, saving the witchery natural to all fair women?" "Did she not prophesy to you that to-day you would be Duke ofTouraine, and receive the ambassadors of the King of France?" "Well, " said the Earl, "where is your wit that you give ear to suchbabblings? Did she not come from that country, as I tell you, and whoshould hear the latest news more readily than she?" The smith looked a little nonplussed, but stuck to it stoutly thatnone but a witch woman would ride alone at nightfall upon a Gallowaymoor, or unless by enchantment set up a pavilion of silk and strangedevices under the pines of Loch Roan. "Well, " said Earl William, feeling his advantage and making the mostof it, "I see that in all my little love affairs I must needs take mymaster armourer with me to decide whether or no the lady be a witch. He shall resolve for me all spiritual questions with his forehammer. Malise MacKim a witch pricker! Ha--this is a change indeed. Malise theSmith will make the censor of his lord's love affairs, after whatcertain comrades of his have told me of his own ancient love-makings. Will he deign to come to the weapon-showing to-day, and instead ofexamining the swords and halberts, the French arbalasts and Germanfusils, demit that part of his office to Ninian the Highlandman, andgo peering into ladies' eyes for sorceries and scanning their lips forsuch signs of the devil as lurk in the dimples of their chins? In thishe will find much employment and that of a congenial sort. " Malise was vanquished, less by the sarcasm of the Earl than by thefear that perhaps the Highlandman might indeed have his place ofhonour as chief military expert by his master's right hand at theexamination of weapons that day on the green holms of Balmaghie. "I may have been overhasty, my lord, " he said hesitatingly, "but stilldo I think that the woman was far from canny. " The Earl laughed and, turning him about by the shoulders, gave him apush down the stair, crying, "Oh, Malise, Malise, have you lived solong in the world without finding out that a beautiful woman is alwaysuncanny!" The levy that day of clansmen owning fealty to the Douglas was nohasty or local one. It was not, indeed, a "rising of the countryside, "such as took place when the English were reported to be over theborder, when the beacon fires were thrown west from Criffel to Screel, from Screel to Cairnharrow, and then tossed northward by the threeCairnsmuirs and topmost Merrick far over the uplands of Kyle, tillfrom the sullen brow of Brown Carrick the bale fire set the town drumof Ayr beating its alarming note. Still this muster was a day onwhich every Douglas vassal must ride in mail with all his spearsbehind him--or bide at home and take the consequences. All the night from distant parishes and outlying valleys horsemen hadbeen riding, clothed in complete panoply of mail. These were theknights, barons, freeholders, who owned allegiance to the house ofDouglas. Each lord was followed by his appointed tail of esquires andmen-at-arms; behind these dense clusters of heavily armed spearmenmarched steadily along the easiest paths by the waterside and over thelower hill passes. Light running footmen slung their swords over theirbacks by leathern bandoliers and pricked it briskly southwards overthe bent so brown. Archers there were from the border towards theSolway side--lithe men, accustomed to spring from tussock to tuft ofshaking grass, whose long strides and odd spasmodic side leapingsbetrayed even on the plain and unyielding pasture lands the place oftheir amphibious nativity. "The Jack herons of Lochar, " these were named by the men of Galloway. But there was no jeering to their faces, for not one of thoseMaxwells, Sims, Patersons, and Dicksons would have thought twice ofleaping behind a tree stump to wing a cloth-yard shaft into ascoffer's ribs at thirty yards, taking his chance of the dule tree andthe hempen cord thereafter for the honour of Lochar. CHAPTER VIII THE CROSSING OF THE FORD It was still early morning of the great day, when Sholto and LaurenceMacKim, leaving their mother in the kitchen, and their young sisterMagdalen trying a yet prettier knot to her kerchief, took their way bythe fords of Glen Lochar to an eminence then denominated plainly theWhinny Knowe, the same which afterwards gained and has kept to thisday the more fatal designation of Knock Cannon. The lads were dressedas became the sons of so prosperous a craftsman (and master armourerto boot) as Malise MacKim of the Carlinwark. Laurence, the younger, wore his archer's jack over the suit of purplevelvet, high boots of yellow leather, and, withal, a dainty cap setfar back on his head, from which sprouted the wing of a blackcock inas close imitation as Master Laurence dared compass of the EarlDouglas himself. His bow was slung at his back all ready for theinspection. A sash of orange silk was twisted about his slim waist, and in this he would set his thumb knowingly, and stare boldly asoften as the pair of brothers overtook a pretty girl. For MasterLaurence loved beauty, and thought not lightly of his own. Sholto, though, as we shall soon see, despised not love, had eyes morefor the knights and men-at-arms, and considered that his heaven wouldbe fully attained as soon as he should ride one of those greatprancing horses, and carry a lance with the pennon of the Douglas uponit. Meanwhile he wore the steel cap of the home guard, the ringed neckmail, the close-fitting doublet of blue dotted over with red Douglashearts and having the white cross of St. Andrew transversely upon it. About his waist was a peaked brace of shining plate armour, damascenedin gold by Malise himself, and filling out his almost girlish waist tomanlier proportions. From this depended a row of tags of soft leather. Close chain-mail covered his legs, to which at the knees were addedcaps of triple plate. A sheaf of arrows in a blue and gold quiver onhis right side, a sword of metal on his left, and a short Scottish bowin his hand completed the attire of a fully equipped and efficientarcher of the Earl's guard. The lads were soon at the fords of Lochar, where in the dry summersthe stones show all the way across--one in the midst being named theBlack Douglas, noted as the place where, as tradition affirms, Archibald the Grim used to pause in crossing the ford to look at hisnew fortress of Thrieve, rising on its impregnable island above therich water meadows. Now neither Sholto nor Laurence wished to wet their leg array beforethe work and pageant of the day began. This was the desire ofLaurence, because of the maids who would assemble on the BorelandBraes, and of Sholto inasmuch as he hoped to win the prize for thebest accoutrement and the most point-device attiring among all thearchers of the Earl's guard. The young men had asked crusty SimonConchie, the boatman at the Ferry Croft, to set them over, offeringhim a groat for his pains. But he was far too busy to pay anyattention to mere silver coin on such an occasion, only pausing longenough to cry to them that they must e'en cross at the fords, as manyof their betters would do that day. There was nothing for it, therefore, but either to strip to the waistor to wait the chances of the traffic. Both Sholto and Laurence wereexceedingly loath to take the former course. They had not, however, long to hesitate, for a train of sumpter mules, belonging to the LordHerries of Terregles, whose father had been with Archibald the Tinemanin France, came up laden with the choicest products of the bordercountry which he designed to offer as part of the "Service-Kane" tohis overlord, the Earl of Douglas. Now mules are all of them snorting, ill-conditioned brutes, and areever ready to run away upon the least excuse, or even without any. Soas soon as those of Lord Herries' train caught the glint of Sholto'sblue baldric and shining steel girdle-brace appearing suddenly frombehind a knoll, they incontinently bolted every way with noses to theground, scattering packs and brandishing heels like young colts turnedout to grass. It chanced that one of the largest mules made directlytowards the fords of Lochar, and the youths, catching the flyingbridle at either side, applied a sort of brake which sufficientlyslowed the beast's movements to enable such agile skipjacks as Sholtoand Laurence to mount. But as they were concerned more with theirleaping from the ground than with what was already upon the animal'sback, their heads met with a crash in the midst, in which collisionthe superior weight of the younger had very naturally the better ofthe encounter. Sholto dropped instantly back to the ground. He was somewhat stunnedby the blow, but the sight of his brother triumphantly splashingthrough the shallows aroused him. He arose, and seizing the firststone that came to hand hurled it after Laurence, swearing fraternallythat he would smite him in the brisket with a dirk as soon as hecaught him for that dastard blow. The first stone flew wide, thoughthe splash caused the mule to shy into deeper water, to the damping ofhis rider's legs. But the second, being better aimed, took the animalfairly on the rump, and, fetching up on a fly-galled spot, frightenedit with bumping bags and loud squeals into the woods of Glen Lochar, which come down close to the fords on every side. Here presentlyLaurence found himself, like Absalom, caught in the branches of abeech, and left hanging between heaven and earth. A rider in completeplate of black mail caught him down, still holding on to his bow, and, placing him across the saddle, brought down the flat of his gauntletedhand upon a spot of the lad's person which, being uncovered by mail, responded with a resounding smack. Then, amid the boisterous laughterof the men-at-arms, he let Laurence slip to the ground. But the younger son of Brawny Kim, master armourer of Carlinwark, wasnot the lad to take such an insult meekly, even from a man-at-armsriding on horseback. He threw his bow into the nearest thicket, andseizing the most convenient ammunition, which chanced to be in greatplenty that day upon the braes of Balmaghie, pursued his insulteralong the glade with such excellent aim and good effect that theblack unadorned armour of the horseman showed disks of defilement allover, like a tree trunk covered with toadstool growths. "Shoot down the intolerable young rascal! Shall he thus beard my LordMaxwell?" cried a voice from the troop which witnessed the chase. Andmore than one bow was bent, and several hand-fusils levelled from thecompany which followed behind. But the injured knight threw up his visor. "Hold, there!" he cried, "the boy is right. It was I who insulted him, and he did right to be revenged, though the rogue's aim is more to beadmired than his choice of weapons. Come hither, lad. Tell me who thouart, and what is thy father's quality?" "I am Laurence MacKim, an archer of my lord's guard, and the youngerson of Malise MacKim, master armourer to the Douglas. " Laurence, being still angry, rang out his titles as if they had beeninscribed in the book of the Lion-King-at-Arms. "Saints save us, " cried the knight in swart armour, "all that!" Then, seeing the boy ready to answer back still more fiercely, hecontinued with a courteous wave of the hand. "I humbly ask your pardon, Master Laurence. I am glad the son ofBrawny Kim hath no small part of his father's spirit. Will you takeservice and be my esquire, as becomes well a lad of parts who desiresto win his way to a knighthood?" The heart of Laurence MacKim beat quickly--a horse to ride--anesquire--perhaps if he had luck and much fighting, a knighthood. Nevertheless, he answered with a bold straight look out of his blackeyes. "I am an archer of my lord Douglas' outer guard. I can have nopromotion save from him or those of his house--not even from the Kinghimself. " "Well said!" cried the knight; "small wonder that the Douglas is thegreatest man in Scotland. I will speak to the Earl William this dayconcerning you. " Lord Maxwell rode on at the head of his company with a courteoussalutation, which not a few behind him who had heard the colloquyimitated. Laurence stood there with his heart working like yeastwithin him, and his colour coming and going to think what he had beenoffered and what he had refused. "God's truth, " he said to himself, "I might have been a great man if Ihad chosen, while Sholto, that old sober sides, was left laggingbehind. " Then he looked about for his bow and went swaggering along as if hewere already Sir Laurence and the leader of an army. But Nemesis was upon him, and that in the fashion which his pridewould feel the most. "Take that, beast of a Laurence!" cried a voice behind him. And the lad received a jolt from behind which loosened his teeth intheir sockets and discomposed the dignified stride with which inimagination he was commanding the armies of the Douglas. CHAPTER IX LAURENCE SINGS A HYMN Laurence turned and beheld his brother. In another instant the twoyoung men had clinched and were rolling on the ground, wrestling andstriking according to their ability. Sholto might easily have had thebest of the fray, but for the temper aroused by Laurence's recentdegradation, for the elder brother was taller by an inch, and of aframe of body more lithe and supple. Moreover, the accuracy of SholtoMacKim's shape and the severe training of the smithy had not left asuperfluous ounce of flesh on him anywhere. In a minute the brothers had become the centre of a riotous, laughingthrong of varlets--archers seeking their corps, and young squires sentby their lords to find out the exact positions allotted to eachcontingent by the provost of the camp. For as the wappenshaw was to beof three days' duration in all its nobler parts, a wilderness of tentshad already begun to arise under the scattered white thorns of thegreat Boreland Croft which stretched up from the river. These laughed and jested after their kind, encouraging the youths tofight it out, and naming Laurence the brock or badger from hisstoutness, and the slim Sholto the whitterick or, as one might say, weasel. "At him, Whitterick--grip him! Grip him! Now you have him at thepinch! Well pulled, Brock! 'Tis a certainty for Brock--good Brock!Well done--well done! Ah, would you? Hands off that dagger! Letfisticuffs settle it! The Whitterick hath it--the Whitterick!" And thus ran the comment. Sholto being cumbered with his armour, Laurence might in time have gotten the upper grip. But at this momenta diversion occurred which completely altered the character of theconflict. A stout, reddish young man came up, holding in his hand astaff painted with twining stripes of white and red, which showed himto be the marshal of that part of the camp which pertained to the Earlof Angus. He looked on for a moment from the skirts of the crowd, andthen elbowed his way self-importantly into the centre, till he stoodimmediately above Laurence and Sholto. "What means this hubbub, I say? Quit your hold there and come with me;my Lord of Angus will settle this dispute. " He had come up just when the young men were in the final grips, whenSholto had at last gotten his will of his brother's head, and was, asthe saying is, giving him "Dutch spice" in no very knightly fashion. The Angus marshal, seeing this, seized Sholto by the collar of hismailed shirt, and drawing him suddenly back, caused him to lose holdof his brother, who as quickly rose to his feet. The red man began tobeat Sholto about the headpiece right heartily with his staff, whichexercise made a great ringing noise, though naturally, the skull capbeing the work of Malise MacKim, little harm ensued to the headenclosed therein. But Master Laurence was instantly on fire. "Here, Foxy-face, " he cried, "let my brother a-be! What business is itof yours if two gentlemen have a difference? Go back to your Anguskernes and ragged craw-bogle Highland folk!" Meanwhile Sholto had recovered from his surprise, and the crowd ofvarlets was melting apace, thinking the Angus marshal some one ofconsequence. But the brothers MacKim were not the lads to take beatingwith a stick meekly, and the provost, who indeed had nothing to dowith the Galloway part of the encampment, had far better have confinedhis officiousness to his own quarters. "Take him on the right, Sholto, " cried Laurence, "and I will have athim from this side. " The Red Angus drew his sword and threatenedforthwith to slay the lads if they came near him. But with a springlike that of a grey Grimalkin of the woods, Sholto leapt within hisguard ere he had time to draw back his arm for thrust or parry, and atthe same moment Laurence, snatching the red and white staff out of hishand, dealt him so sturdy a clout between the shoulders that, thoughhe was of weight equal to both of his opponents taken together, he wasknocked breathless at the first blow and went down beneath the impetusof Sholto's attack. Laurence coolly disengaged his brother, and began to thrash the Angusman with his own staff upon all exposed parts, till the dry woodbroke. Then he threw the pieces at his head, and the two brothers wentoff arm in arm to find a woody covert in which to repair damagesagainst the weapon-showing, and the inspection of their lord and hiskeen-eyed master armourer. As soon as they had discovered such a sequestered holt, Laurence, whohad frequent experience of such rough-and-tumble encounters, strippedoff his doublet of purple velvet, and, turning the sleeve inside out, he showed his brother that it was lined with a rough-surfaced feltcloth almost of the nature of teasle. This being rubbed briskly uponany dusty garment or fouled armour proved most excellent for restoringits pristine gloss and beauty. The young men, being as it were born tothe trade and knowing that their armament must meet their father'sinexorable eye, as he passed along their lines with the Earl, rubbedand polished their best, and when after half an hour's sharp work eachexamined the other, not a speck or stain was left to tell of thevarious casual incidents of the morning. Two bright, fresh-colouredyouths emerged from their thicket, immaculately clad, and withcountenances of such cherubic innocence, that my lord the AbbotWilliam of the great Cistercian Abbey of Dulce Cor, looking upon themas with bare bowed heads they knelt reverently on one knee to ask hisblessing, said to his train, "They look for all the world like youngangels! It is a shame and a sin that two such fair innocents should becompelled to join in aught ruder than the chanting of psalms in holyservice. " Whereat one of his company, who had been witness to their treatment ofthe Angus provost and also of Laurence's encounter with the knight ofthe black armour, was seized incontinently with a fit of coughingwhich almost choked him. "Bless you, my sons, " said the Abbot, "I will speak to my nephew, theEarl, concerning you. Your faces plead for you. Evil cannot dwell insuch fair bodies. What are your names?" The younger knelt with his fingers joined and his eyes meekly on thegrass, while Sholto, who had risen, stood quietly by with his steelcap in his hand. "Laurence MacKim, " answered the younger, modestly, without venturingto raise his eyes from the ground, "and this is my brother Sholto. " "Can you sing, pretty boy?" said the Abbot to Laurence. "We have never been taught, " answered downright Sholto. But hisbrother, feeling that he was losing chances, broke in: "I can sing, if it please your holiness. " "And what can you sing, sweet lad?" asked the Abbot, smiling withexpectation and setting his hand to his best ear to assist hisincreasing deafness. "Shut your fool's mouth!" said Sholto under his breath to his brother. "Shut your own! 'Tis ugly as a rat-trap at any rate!" respondedLaurence in the same key. Then aloud to the Abbot he said, "An itplease you, sir, I can sing 'O Mary Quean!'" The Abbot smiled, well pleased. "Ah, exceeding proper, a song to the honour of the Queen of Heaven (hedevoutly crossed himself at the name), --I knew that I could not bemistaken in you. " "Your pardon, most reverend, " interjected Sholto, anxiously, "pleaseyou to excuse my brother; his voice hath just broken and he cannotsing at present. " Then, under his breath, he added, "Laurie MacKim, you God-forgotten fool, if you sing that song you will get us bothstripped in a thrice and whipped on the bare back for insolence to theEarl's uncle!" "Go to, " said his brother, "I _will_ sing. The old cook is monstrousdeaf at any rate. " "Sing, " said the Abbot, "I would hear you gladly. So fair a face mustbe accompanied by the pipe of a nightingale. Besides, we sorely need atenor for the choir at Sweetheart. " So, encouraged in this fashion, the daring Laurence began: _"Nae priests aboot me shall be seen To mumble prayers baith morn and e'en, I'll swap them a' for Mary Quean! I'll bid nae mess for me be sung, Dies ille, dies irć, Nor clanking bells for me be rung, Sic semper solet fieri! I'll gang my ways to Mary Quean. "_ "Ah, very good, very good, truly, " said the Abbot, thrusting his handinto his pouch beneath his gown, "here are two gold nobles for thee, sweet lad, and another for your brother, whose countenance methinks issomewhat less sweet. You have sung well to the praise of our Lady!What did you say your name was? Of a surety, we must have you atSweetheart. And you have the Latin, too, as I heard in the hymn. It isa thing most marvellous. Verily, the very unction of grace must havevisited you in your cradle!" Laurence held down his head with all his native modesty, but the moreopen Sholto grew red in the face, hearing behind him the tittering andshoulder-shaking of the priests and lay servants in the Abbot's train, and being sure that they would inform their master as soon as hepassed on concerning the true import of Master Laurence's song. He wasmuttering in a rapid recitative, "Oh, wait--wait, Laurie MacKim, tillI get you on the Carlinwark shore. A sore back and a stiff skinful ofbones shalt thou have, and not an inch of hide on thee that is notblack and blue. Amen!" he added, stopping his maledictions quickly, for at that moment the Abbot came somewhat abruptly to the end of hisspeech. The great churchman rode away on his fair white mule, with a smile anda backward wave of his hand. "I will speak to my nephew concerning you this very day, my child, " hecried. And the countenance of that most gentle youth kept its sweet innocenceand angelic grace to the last, but that of Sholto was more dark andfrowning than ever. CHAPTER X THE BRAES OF BALMAGHIE By ten of the clock the braes of Balmaghie were a sight most gloriousto look upon. Well nigh twelve thousand men were gathered there, ofwhom five thousand were well-mounted knights and fully equippedmen-at-arms, every man of them ready and willing to couch a lance orride a charge. The line of the tents which had been set up extended from opposite theCastle island of Thrieve to the kirk hill of Balmaghie. Every knight'sfollowing was strictly kept within its own pale, or fence of greenwands set basket-wise, pointed and thrust into the earth like thespring traps of those who catch mowdiewarts. Many also were thequarrels and bickerings of the squires who had been sent forward tochoose and arrange the several encampments. Nor were rough and tumblefights such as we have seen the MacKims indulging in, thoughtderogatory to the dignity of any, save belted knights only. Each camp displayed the device of its own lord, but higher than all, from the top of every mound and broomy hillock floated the banner ofthe overlord. This was the lion of Galloway, white on a ground ofblue, and beneath it, but on the same staff, a pennon whereon was thebleeding heart of the Douglas family. The lists were set up on the level meadow that is called the BoatCroft. At either end a pavilion had been erected, and the joustinggreen was strongly fenced in, with a rising tier of seats for theladies along one side, and a throne in the midst for the Douglashimself, as high and as nobly upholstered as if the King of Scots hadbeen presiding in person. At ten by the great sun-dial of Thrieve, the Earl, armed in completearmour of rare work, damascened with gold, and bearing in his hand thetruncheon of commander, rode first through the fords of Lochar, andimmediately after him came his brother David, a tall handsome boy offourteen, whose olive skin and highbred beauty attested his Douglasbirth. Next rode the Earl of Angus, a red, foxy-featured man, with mean andshifty eyes. He sat his horse awkwardly, perpetually hunching hisshoulders forward as if he feared to fall over his beast's head. Andsaving among his own company, no man did him any honour, which causedhim to grin with wicked sidelong smiles of hate and envy. Then amid the shouting of the people there appeared, on a milk-whitepalfrey, Margaret, the Earl's only sister, already famous over allScotland as "The Fair Maid of Galloway. " With her rode one who, in theesteem of most who saw the pair that day, was a yet rarer flower, evenMaud Lindesay, who had come out of the bleak North to keep the lonelylittle maid company. For Margaret of Douglas was yet no more than achild, but Maud Lindesay was nineteen years of age and in the firstperfect bloom of her beauty. Behind these two came the whole array of the knights and barons whoowned allegiance to the Douglas, --Herons and Maxwells, ArdwellMacullochs, Gordons from the Glen of Kells, with Agnews and MacDowallsfrom the Shireside. But above all, and outnumbering all, there werethe lesser chiefs of the mighty name--Douglases of the North, thefuture Moray and Ormond among them, the noble young sons of James theGross of Avondale, who rode nearest their cousin, the head of theclan. Then came Douglases of the Border, Douglases of the Hermitage, of Renfrew, of Douglasdale. Every third man in that great companywhich splashed and caracoled through the fords of Lochar, was aWilliam, a James, or an Archibald Douglas. The King himself could nothave raised in all Scotland such a following, and it is small wonderif the heart of the young man expanded within him. Presently, soon after the arrival of the cavalcade, the greatwappenshaw was set in array, and forming up company by company thelong double line extended as far as the eye could reach from north tosouth along the side of the broad and sluggish-moving river. Sholto, who in virtue of his courage and good marksmanship had beenplaced over the archer company which waited on the right of the ford, fell in immediately behind the _cortčge_ of the Earl. He was first manof all to have his equipment examined, and his weapons obtained, asthey deserved, the commendation of his liege lord, and the grimunwilling approval of Malise, the master armourer, whose unerring eyecould not detect so much as a speck on the shirt of mail, or a grainof rust on the waist brace of shining steel. Then the Earl rode down the lines, and Sholto, remembering theencounter amidst the dust of the roadway, breathed more freely when hesaw his father's back. And surely that day the heart of the Douglas must have beat proud andhigh within him, for there they stood, company behind ordered company, the men on whom he could count to the death. And truly the lad ofeighteen, who in Scotland was greater than the King, looked upon theirsteadfast thousands with a swelling heart. The Abbot had made particular inquiries where Laurence was stationed, which was in the archer company of the Laird of Kelton. Most of themonkish band had been made too happy by the deception practised ontheir Abbot concerning "Mary Quean, " and were too desirous to havesuch a rogue to play his pranks in the dull abbey, to tell any taleson Laurence MacKim. But one, Berguet, a Belgian priest who had beggedhis way to Scotland, and whose nature was that of the spy andsycophant, approached and volunteered the information to the Abbotthat this lad to whom he was desirous of showing favour, was a ribaldand hypocritical youth. "Eh, what?" said the Abbot, "a bodle for thy ill-set tongue, falseloon, dost think I did not hear him sing his fair and seemly orisons?I tell thee, rude out-land jabberer, that I am a Douglas, and have earsbetter than those of any Frenchman that ever breathed. For this thoushalt kneel six nights on the cold stone of the holy chapel house, andsay of paternosters ten thousand and of misereres thou shall singthree hundred. And this shall chance to teach thee to be scanter withthy foul breath when thou speakest to the Abbot of the Foundation ofDevorgill concerning better men than thyself. " The Belgian priest gasped and fell back, and none other was found tosay aught against Master Laurence, which, considering the ten thousandpaternosters and the three hundred misereres, was not unnatural. As the Earl passed along the line he was annoyed by the iteratedrequests of his uncle to be informed when they should come to thecompany of the Laird of Kelton. And the good Abbot, being like alldeaf men apt to speak a little loud, did not improve matters byconstantly making remarks behind his hand, upon the appearance orcharacter (as known to him) of the various dependents of the DouglasHouse who had come out to show their loyalty and exhibit theirpreparedness for battle. As thus it was. The young Earl would come in his inspection to acompany of Solway-side men--stiff-jointed fishers of salmon nets outof the parishes of Rerrick or Borgue--or, as it might be, rough coltsfrom the rock scarps of Colvend, scramblers after wild birds' nests onperilous heuchs, and poachers on the deer preserves of Cloak Moss, asoften as they had a chance. Then the Earl, having zealously commendedthe particular Barnbacle or Munches who led them, all would be peaceand concord, till out of the crowd behind would issue the growlingcomment of his uncle, the Abbot of Dulce Cor. "A close-fisted old thief! The saints pity him not! He will surely fryin Hell! Last Shrovetide did he not drive off five of our best milchcows, and hath steadfastly refused to restore them? _Anathemamaranatha_ to his vile body and condemned be his huckstering soul!" Needless to add, every word of this comment and addition was heard bythe person most concerned. Or it might be, "Henry A'milligan--his mother's son, God wot. And hisfather's, too, doubtless--if only one could know who his father was. The devil dwell in his fat belly! _Exorciso te_--" So it went on till the temper of the young lord of Galloway wasstrained almost to the breaking point, for he wished not to cause adisturbance among so great a company and on a day of such renown. At last they came to the muster of the clean-run limber lads ofKelton, artificers mostly, and stated retainers of the castle and itsvarious adjacent bourgs of Carlinwark, Rhonehouse, Gelston, and Mainsof Thrieve. Some one at this point took the Abbot by the elbow and shouted in hisear that this was the company he desired to see. Then he rode forwardto the left hand of his nephew, as Malise and he passed slowly downthe line examining the weapons. "Laurence MacKim, I would see Laurence MacKim!" cried the Abbot, holding up his hand as if in the chapel of his monastery. The Earlstopped, and Malise turned right about on his heel in greatastonishment. "What wants old marrowbones with our Laurie?" he muttered; "surely hecannot have gotten into mischief with the lasses already. But Ikenna--I kenna. When I was sixteen I can mind--I can mind. And theloon may well be his father's own son. " And Malise, the man of brawn, watched out of his quiet grey eyes theface of the Abbot William, wondering what was to come next. Laurence stood forth at a word of command from the Earl. He saluted, and then dropped the point of his sword meekly upon the ground. Hiswhite-and-rose cherub's face expressed the utmost goodness andinnocence. "Dear kinsman, " said the Abbot to his nephew, "I have a request toprefer which I hope you will grant, though it deprive you of oneretainer. This sweet youth is not fit company for rude soldiers andill-bred rufflers of the camp. His mind is already on higher things. He hath good clerkly Latin also, being skilled in the humanities, as Ihave heard proven with mine own ears. His grace of language anddeportment is manifest, and he can sing the sweetest and mostspiritual songs in praise of Mary and the saints. I would have him inour choir at Sweetheart Abbey, where we have much need both of a voicesuch as his, and also of a youth whose sanctity and innocence cannotfail to leaven with the grace of the spirit the neophytes of ourcollege, and the consideration of whom may even bring repentance intoolder and more hardened hearts. " Malise MacKim could not believe his ears as he listened to the Abbot'srounded periods. But all the same his grey eyes twinkled, his mouthslowly drew itself together into the shape of an O, from which issueda long low whistle, perfectly audible to all about him except theAbbot. "Lord have mercy on the innocence and cloistered quiet of theneophytes if they get our Laurie for an example!" muttered Malise tohimself as he turned away. Even the young Earl smiled, perhaps remembering the last time he hadseen the youth beside him, clutching and tearing like a wild cat athis brother's throat in the smithy of Carlinwark. "You desire the life of a clerk?" said Lord William pleasantly toLaurence. He would gladly have purchased his uncle's silence at evengreater price. "If your lordship pleases, " said Laurence, meekly, adding to himself, "it cannot be such hard work as hammering at the forge, and if I likeit not, why then I can always run away. " "You think you have a call to become a holy clerk?" "I feel it here, " quoth Master Laurence, hypocritically, indicatingcorrectly, however, the organ whose wants have made clerks of somany--that is, the stomach. Earl William smiled yet more broadly, but anxious to be gone he said:"Mine Uncle, here is the lad's father, Malise MacKim, my masterarmourer and right good servant. Ask him concerning his son. " "'Tis all up a rotten tree now, " muttered Laurence to himself; "myfather will reveal all. " Malise MacKim smiled grimly, but with a salutation to the dignitary ofthe church and near relative of his chief, he said: "Truly, I hadnever thought of this my son as worthy to be a holy clerk. But I willnot stand in the way of his advancement nor thwart your favour. Takehim for a year on trial, and if you can make a monk of him, do so andwelcome. I recommend a leathern strap, well hardened in the fire, forthe purpose of encouraging him to make a beginning in the holy life. " "He shall indeed have penance if he need it. For the good of the soulmust the body suffer!" said Abbot William, sententiously. "Saints' bones and cracklings, " muttered Laurence, "this is none socheerful! But I can always run away if the strap grows overlimber, andthen let them catch me if they can. Sholto will help me. " "Fall out!" commanded the Earl, sharply, "and join yourself to thecompany of the Abbot William. Come, Malise, we lose our time. " Thus was one of our heroes brought into the way of becoming a learnedand holy clerk. But all those who knew him best agreed that he had afar road to travel. CHAPTER XI THE AMBASSADOR OF FRANCE The Earl had almost arrived at the pavilion erected at the southernend of the jousting meadow, when a gust of cheering borne along thelines announced the arrival of a belated company. The young manglanced northward with intent to discover, by their pennons, who hisvisitors might be. But the distance was too great, and identificationwas made more difficult by the swarming of the populace round thenewcomers. So, being unable to make the matter out, Earl Williamdespatched his brother David to bring him word of their quality. Presently, however, and before David Douglas' return, shouts of"Avondale, Avondale!" from the men of Lanarkshire informed the youngEarl of the name of one at least of those who had arrived. A frown soquick and angry darkened his brow that it showed the consideration inwhich the Douglas held his granduncle James the Gross, Earl ofAvondale. "I hope, at least, " he said in a low voice to Malise, who stood half astep behind him, "that my cousins Will and James have come with him. They are good metal for a tourney, and worth breaking a lance with. " By this time the banners of the visitors were discernible crossing thefords of Lochar, while high advanced above all private pennons twostandards could be seen, the banner royal of Scotland, and closebeside the rampant lion the white lilies of France. "Saint Bride!" cried the Earl, "have they brought the King of Scots tovisit me? His Majesty had been better at his horn-book, or playingball in the tennis court of Stirling. " Then came David back, riding swiftly on his fine dark chestnut, which, being free from the mantle wherein the horses of knights were swathed, and having its mane and tail left long, made a gallant show as the ladthrew it almost on its haunches in his boyish pride of horsemanship. "William, " said David Douglas, "a word in your ear, brother. The wholetribe are here, --fat Jamie and all his clan. " The brothers conferred a little apart, for in those troubled times menlearned caution early, and though the Douglas was the greatest lord inScotland, yet, surrounded by meaner men as he was, it behoved him tobe jealous and careful of his life and honour. Earl Douglas came out of the sparred enclosure of the tilt-ring inorder to receive his guests. First, as an escort to the ambassador royal of France and Scotland whocame behind, rode the Earl of Avondale and his five sons, noble youngmen, and most unlikely to have sprung from such a stock. James theGross rode a broad Clydesdale mare, a short, soft unwieldy man, sitting squat on the saddle like a toad astride a roof, and glancingslily sideways out of the pursy recesses of his eyes. Behind him came his eldest son William, a man of a true Douglascountenance, quick, high, and stern. Then followed James, whose lithebody and wonderful dexterity in arms were already winning him reputeas one of the bravest knights in all Christendom in every military andmanly exercise. Behind the Avondale Douglases rode two men abreast, with a lady on apalfrey between them. The first to take the eye, both by his stature and his remarkableappearance, rode upon a charger covered from head to tail in thegorgeous red-and-gold diamonded trappings pertaining to a marshal ofFrance. He was in complete armour, and wore his visor down. A longblue feather floated from his helmet, falling almost upon the flank ofhis horse; a truncheon of gold and black was at his side. A pacebehind him the lilies of France were displayed, floating out languidlyfrom a black and white banner staff held in the hands of a youngsquire. The knight behind whom the banner royal of Scotland fluttered was aman of different mould. His spare frame seemed buried in the suit ofarmour that he wore somewhat awkwardly. His pale ascetic countenancelooked more in place in a monkish cloister than on a knightly tiltingground, and he glanced this way and that with the swift and furtivesuspicion of one who, while setting one trap, fears to be taken inanother. But the lady who rode on a white palfrey between these two took allmen's regard, even in the presence of a marshal of France and a heraldextraordinary of the King of Scots. The Earl Douglas, having let his eyes once rest upon her, could notagain remove them, being, as it were, fixed by the very greatness ofthe wonder which he saw. It was the lady of the pavilion underneath the pines, the lady of theevening light and of the midnight storm. She was no longer clothed in simple white, but arrayed like a king'sdaughter. On her head was a high-peaked coiffure, from which thereflowed down a graceful cloud of finest lace. This, even as the Earllooked at her, she caught at with a bewitching gesture, and broughtdown over her shoulder with her gloved hand. A close-fitting robe ofpalest blue outlined the perfections of her body. A singlefleur-de-lys in gold was embroidered on the breast of her whitebodice, and the same device appeared again and again on the whitehousing of her palfrey. She sat in the saddle, gently smiling, and looking down with asweetness which was either the perfection of finished coquetry or theexpression of the finest natural modesty. Strangely enough, the first thought which came to the Earl Douglasafter his surprise was one in which triumph was blended with mirth. "What will the Abbot and Malise think of this?" he said, half aloud. And he turned him about in order to look upon the face of his masterarmourer. He found Malise MacKim ashen-pale and drawn of countenance, his mouthopen and squared with wonder. His jaw was fallen slack, and his handsgripped one upon the other like those of a suppliant praying to thesaints. The Earl smiled, and bidding Malise unlace his helmet in compliment tohis guests, he stood presently bareheaded before them, his headappearing above the blackness of his armour, bright as a flower withyouth and instinct with all the fiery beauty of his race. It was James the Gross who came forward to act as herald. "Mywell-beloved nephew, " he began in somewhat whining tones, "I bring youtwo royal embassies, one from the King of France and the other fromthe King of Scotland. I have the honour to present to you the MarshalGilles de Retz, ambassador of the most Christian King, Charles theSeventh, who will presently deliver his master's message to you. " The marshal, who till now had kept his visor down, slowly raised it, and revealed a face which, being once seen, could never afterwards bebanished from the memory. It was a large grey-white countenance, with high cheek-bones andcolourless lips, which were continually working one upon the other. Black eyes were set close together under heavy brows, and a long thinnose curved between them like the beak of an unclean bird. "Earl William, " said the marshal, "I give you greeting in the name ofour common liege lord, Charles, King of France, and also in that ofhis son, the Dauphin Louis. I bring you also a further token of theirgood-will, in that I hail you heir to the great estates and dignitiesof your father and grandfather, sometime Dukes of Touraine and vassalspremier of the King of France. " The young man bowed, but in spite of the interest of his message, themarshal caught his eyes resting upon the face of the lady who rodebeside him. "To this I add that which, save for the message of the King, mymaster, ought fitly to have come first. I present you to this fairlady, my sister-in-law, the Damosel Sybilla de Thouars, maid of honourto your high princess Margaret of Scotland, who of late hath expandedinto a yet fairer flower under the sun of our land of France. " The Earl dismounted and threw the reins of his horse to Malise, whoseface wore an expression of bitterest disappointment and instinctivehatred. Then he went to the side of the Lady Sybilla, and taking herhand he bowed his head over it, touching the glove to his lips withevery token of respect. Still bareheaded, he took the reins of herpalfrey and led her to the stand reserved for the Queen of Beauty. Here the Earl invited her to dismount and occupy the central seat. "Till your arrival it lacked an occupant, saving my little sister; butto-day the gods have been good to the house of Douglas, and for thefirst time since the death of my father I see it filled. " Smilingly the lady consented, and with a wave of his hand the EarlWilliam invited the Marshal de Retz to take the place on the otherside of the Lady Sybilla. Then turning haughtily to the herald of the King of Scots, who hadbeen standing alone, he said:-- "And now, sir, what would you with the Earl Douglas?" The ascetic, monkish man found his words with little loss of time, showing, however, no resentment for Earl William's neglect of anyreverence to the banner under whose protection he came. "I am Sir James Irving of Drum, " he said, "and I stand here on behalfof Sir Alexander Livingston, tutor and guardian of the King of Scots, to invite your friendship and aid. The Lord Crichton, sometimeChancellor of this realm, hath rebelled against the royal authorityand fortified him in Edinburgh Castle. So both Sir AlexanderLivingston and the most noble lady, the Queen Mother, desire theassistance of the great power of the Earl of Douglas to suppress thisrevolt. " Scarcely had these words been uttered when another knight steppedforward out of the train which had followed the Earl of Avondale. "I am here on behalf of the Chancellor of Scotland, who is no rebelagainst any right authority, but who wishes only to bring thisdistracted realm back into some assured peace, and to deliver theyoung King out of the hands of flatterers and lechers. I have thehonour, therefore, of requesting on behalf of the Chancellor ofScotland, Sir William Crichton, the true representative of royalauthority, the aid and alliance of my Lord of Douglas. " A smile of haughty contempt passed over the face of the Earl, and hedismissed both heralds, uttering in the hearing of all those wordswhich afterwards became so famous over Scotland: "Let dog eat dog! Wherefore should the lion care?" CHAPTER XII MISTRESS MAUD LINDESAY The sports of the first day of the great wappenshaw were over. TheLord James Douglas, second son of the Gross One, had won the singletourneying by unhorsing all his opponents without even breaking alance. For the second time Sholto MacKim wore on his cap the goldenbuckle of archery, and took his way happily homeward, much upliftedthat the somewhat fraudulent eyes of Mistress Maud Lindesay had smiledupon him whilst the French lady was fastening it there. The knightly part of the great muster had already gone back to theirtents and lodgings. The commonalty were mostly stringing away throughthe vales and hill passes to their homes, no longer in orderedcompanies, but in bands of two or three. Disputes and misunderstandingsarose here and there between men of different provinces. The Gallowaymen called "Annandale thieves" at those border lads who came at thesummons of the hereditary Warden of the Marches. The borderers repliedby loud bleatings, which signified that they held the Galwegians of nobetter understanding than their native sheep. It was a strange and varied company which rode home to Thrieve toreceive the hospitality of the young Earl of Douglas and Duke ofTouraine. The castle itself, being no more than a military fortress, containing in addition to the soldiers' quarters only the apartmentsdesigned for the family (and scant enough even of those) could not, ofcourse, accommodate so great a company. But as was the custom at all great houses, though more in England andFrance than in poverty-stricken Scotland, the Earl of Douglas had instore an abundant supply of tents, some of them woven of arras andornamented with cloth of gold, others of humbler but equallyserviceable material. His mother, the Countess of Douglas, who knew nothing of theoccurrences of the night of the great storm, nor guessed at thesuspicions of witchcraft and diablerie which made a hell of the breastof Malise, the master armourer, received her son's guests withdistinguished courtesy. Malise himself had gone to find the Abbot, sosoon as ever he set eyes on the companion of the Marshal de Retz, thatthey might consult together--only, however, to discover that thegentle churchman had quitted the field immediately after he hadobtained the consent of his nephew to the possession of the newchorister, to whom he had taken so sudden and violent a fancy. The hoofs of the whole cavalcade were erelong sounding hollow and dullupon the wooden bridge, which the Earl's father had erected from theleft bank to the southernmost corner of the Isle of Thrieve, a bridgewhich a single charge of powder, or even a few strokes of a wood-man'saxe, had been sufficient to remove and disable, but which neverthelessenabled the castle-dwellers to avoid the extreme inconvenience ofpassing through the ford at all states of the river. Sholto MacKim, throwing all the consciousness of a shining successinto the stiffness of the neck which upheld the slight additionalweight of the Earl's gold buckle in his cap, found himself, not whollyby accident, in the neighbourhood of his heart's beloved, MaudLindesay. For, like a valiant seneschal, she had kept her place allday close beside the Fair Maid of Galloway. And now the little girl was more than ever eager to keep near to herfriend, for the ambassador of the King of France had bent one lookupon her, so strange and searching that Margaret, though not naturallytimid, had cried aloud involuntarily and clasped her friend's handwith a grasp which she refused to loosen, till Sholto had promised towalk by the side of her pony and allow her to net her tremblingfingers into the thick of his clustering curls. For the armourer's son was, in those simple days, an ancient ally andplaymate of the little noble damsel, and he dreamed, and not withoutsome excuse, that in an age when every man's strong arm and braveheart constituted his fortune, the time might come when he might evenhimself to Maud Lindesay, baron's daughter though she were. For bothhis father and himself were already high in favour with their masterthe Earl, who could create knighthoods and dispose lordships as easilyas (and much more effectually and finally than) the King himself. The emissaries of the Chancellor and Sir Alexander Livingston did notaccompany the others back to the castle after the short and haughtyanswer which they had received, but with their followers returned theway they had come to their several headquarters, giving, as wasnatural between foes so bitter, a wide berth to each other on theirnorthward journeys to Edinburgh and Stirling. "What think you of this day's doings, Mistress Lindesay?" asked Sholtoas he swung along beside the train with little Margaret Douglas's handstill clutching the thick curls at the back of his neck. The maid of honour tossed her shapely head, and, with a little prettyupward curl of the lip, exclaimed: "'Twas as stupid a tourney as everI saw. There was not a single handsome knight nor yet one beautifullady on the field this day. " "What of James of Avondale when knights are being judged?" saidSholto, with a kind of gloomy satisfaction, boyish and characteristic;"he at least looked often enough in your direction to prove that hedid not agree with you about the lack of the beautiful lady. " At this Maud Lindesay elevated her pretty nostrils yet further intothe air. "James of Avondale, indeed--" she said, "he is not to becompared either for dignity or strength with the Earl himself, nor yetwith many others whom I know of lesser estate. " "Sholto MacKim, " cried the clear piping voice of the little Margaret, "how in the world am I to keep hold of your hair if you shake and jerkyour head about like that? If you do not keep still I will send forthat pretty boy over there in the scarlet vest, or ask my cousin Jamesto ride with me. And he will, too, I know--for he likes bravely to bebeside my dear, sweet Maud Lindesay. " After this Sholto held his head erect and forth-looking, as if he hadbeen under the inspection of the Earl and were doubtful of his weaponspassing muster. There came a subtle and roguish smile into the eyes of Mistress MaudLindesay as she observed the stiffening of Sholto's bearing. "Who were those others of humbler estate?" he queried, sending hiswords straight out of his lips like pellets from a pop-gun, being infear lest he should unsettle the hand of the small tyrant upon hishair. "Your brother Laurence for one, " replied the minx, for no otherpurpose than to see the flush of disappointment tinge his brow withsudden red. "I wish my brother Laurence were in--" he began. But the girlinterrupted him. "Hush, " she said, holding up her finger, "do not swear, especially ata son of the holy church. Ha, ha! A fit clerk and a reverend will theymake of Laurence MacKim! I have heard of your ploys and ongoings, bothof you. Think not I am to be taken in by your meekness and pretence ofdutiful service. You go athwart the country making love to poormaidens, and then, when you have won their hearts, you leave themlamenting. " And she affected to heave a deep sigh. "Ah, Maudie, " said the little girl, reproachfully, "now you are beingbad. I know it by your voice. Do not be unkind to my Sholto, for hishair is so pleasant to touch. I wish you could feel it. And, besides, when you are wicked to him, you make him jerk, and if he does it oftenI shall have to send him away. " The Maid of Galloway was indeed entirely correct. For Maud Lindesay, accustomed all her life to the homage of many men, and having beenbrought up in a great castle in an age when chivalrous respect towomen had not yet given place to the licence of the Revival ofLetters, practised irritation like a fine art. She was brimful of thesuperfluity of naughtiness, yet withal as innocent and playful as akitten. But Sholto, both from a feeling that he belonged to an inferior rank, and also being exceedingly conscious of his youth, chose to bebitterly offended. "You mistake me greatly, Mistress Lindesay, " he said in an unevenschoolboy's voice, to which he tried in vain to add a touch of worldlycoldness; "I do not make love to every girl I meet, nor yet do I lovethem and leave them as you say. You have been most gravelymisinformed. " "Nay, " tripped the maid of honour, with arch quickness of reply, "Isaid not that you were naturally equipped for such amorous quests. Imeant to designate your brother Laurence. 'Tis pity he is to be aclerk. Though one day doubtless he will make a very proper andconsolatory father confessor--" Sholto walked on in silence, his eyes fixed before him, and in suchhigh dudgeon that he pretended to be unconscious of what the girl hadbeen saying. Then the little Margaret began to prattle in her prettyway, and the youth answered "yes" and "no" sulkily and at random, histhoughts being alternately on the doing of some great deed to make hismistress repent her cruelty, and on a leap into the castle pool, inwhose unsunned deeps he might find oblivion from all the flouts ofhard-hearted beauty. Maud kept her eyes upon him, a smile of satisfaction on her lips solong as he was not looking at her. She liked to play her fish assatisfactorily as she could before grassing it at her feet. "Besides, it will do him good, " she said to herself. "He hath latelywon the gold badge of archery, and, like all men, is apt to thinkovermuch of himself at such times. Moreover, I can always make it upto him after--if I like, that is. " But as often as Sholto dropped a little behind, keeping pace with MaidMargaret's slower palfrey so that Maud was sure he looked at her, thepretty coquette cast down her eyes in affected humility and sorrow. Whereupon immediately Sholto felt his resentment begin to melt likesnow off a dike top when the sun of April is shining. But neither of them uttered another word till they reached thedrawbridge which crossed the nether moat and conducted to the noblegateway of Thrieve. Then, at the foot of the stairway to the hall, Sholto, having swung the little maid from her pony, after a moment ofsullen hesitation went across to assist Mistress Maud Lindesay out ofher saddle. As he lifted the girl down his heart thundered tumultuously in hisbreast, for he had never so touched her before. Her lashes restedmodestly on her cheek--long, black, and upcurled a little at the ends. As her foot touched the ground, she raised them a moment, and lookedat him with one swift flash of violet eyes made darker by theseclusion from which she had released them. Then in another moment shehad dropped them again, detaching them from his with a mightyaffectation of confusion. "Please, Sholto, I am sorry. I did not mean it. " She spoke like achild that is sorry for a fault and is fearful of being chidden. And even though knowing full well by bitter experience all hernaughtiness and hypocrisy, Sholto, gulping his heart well down intohis throat, could not do otherwise than forgive a thing so pretty andso full of the innocent artifices which make mown hay of the hearts ofmen. With a touch of his lips upon the hand of Margaret the Maid in tokenof fealty, Sholto MacKim turned on his heel and went away towards thefords of Thrieve, muttering to himself, "No, she does not mean it, Ido believe. But I have ever heard that of all women she who nevermeans it is the most dangerous. " And this is a dict which no wise man can gainsay. CHAPTER XIII A DAUNTING SUMMONS Not far before them had ridden the Earl and the Lady Sybilla. Behindthese two came the Marshal de Retz and the fat Lord of Avondale. Theywere telling each other tales of the wars of La Pucelle, the latterlaughing and shaking shoulders, but at the end of every side-splittinglegend the Frenchman would glance over his shoulder at Maud Lindesayand the little maiden Margaret. As Sholto passed them on his return he stood aside, poised at thesalute, looking meanwhile with awe on the great and notable Frenchsoldier. Yet at the first glimpse of his unvisored face there fellupon the young man a dislike so fierce and instinctive that he graspedhis bow and fumbled in his quiver for an arrow, in order to send itthrough the unlaced joints of the Marshal's gorget, which for ease'ssake his squire had undone when they left the field. Sholto MacKim was at the fords waiting the chance of crossing and thepleasure of the surly keeper of the bridge, Elson A'Cormack, who satin his wheelhouse, grunting curses on all who passed that way. "Foul feet, slow bellies, fushionless and slack ye are to run mylord's errands! But quick enow to return home upon your tramplingclattering ruck of horses, and every rascal of you expecting to rideover my bridge of good pine planking instead of washing the dirt fromyour hoofs in honest Dee water. " The long files of horsemen threaded their way across the green plainof the isle towards the open space in front of Thrieve Castle, thepoints of their spears shining high in the air, and the shafts sothick underneath that, seen from a distance, they made a network ofslender lines reticulated against the brightness of the sun. The great island strength of the Douglases was then in its higheststate of perfection as a fortress and of dignity as a residence. Archibald the Grim, who built the keep, could not have foreseen thewondrous beauty and strength to which Thrieve would attain under hissuccessors. This night of the wappenshaw the lofty grey walls werehung with gaily coloured tapestries draped from the overhanginggallery of wood which ran round the top of the castle. From the fourcorners of the roof flew the banners of four provinces which owned thesway of the mighty house, --Galloway, Annandale, Lanark, and theMarches, --while from the centre, on a flagstaff taller than any, flewtheir standard royal, for so it might be called, the heart and starsof the Douglases' more than royal house. While the outer walls thus blazed with colour, the woods around gaveback the constant reverberation of cannon, as with hand guns andartillery of weight the garrison greeted the return of the Earl andhis guests. The green castle island from end to end was planted thickwith tents and gay with pavilions of many hues and various design, their walls covered with intricate devices, and each flying thecolours of its owner, while on poles without dangled shields andharness of various kinds, ready for the younger squires to clean andoil for the use of their masters on the remaining days of thetournament. Sholto waited at the bridge-head, impatient of the press, and eager tobe left alone with his own thoughts, that he might con over and overthe words and looks of his heart's idol, and suck all the sweet painhe could out of her very hardheartedness. Suddenly tossed backwardslike a ball from lip to lip, according to the universal and, indeed, obligatory custom of the time, there reached him the "passing of theword. " He heard his own name repeated over and over in fifty voicesand tones, waxing louder as the "word" neared him. "Sholto MacKim--Sholto MacKim, son of Malise, the armourer, wanted tospeak with the Earl. Sholto MacKim. Sholto--" A great nolt of a Moray Highlandman, with a mouth like a gash, shoutedit in his very ear. Surprised and somewhat anxious at heart, Sholto cast over in his mindall the deeds, good and evil, which might procure him the honour of aninterview with Earl William Douglas, but could think of nothing excepthis having involuntarily played the spy at the young lord's meetingwith the lady in the wood. It was therefore with some naturaltrepidation that the young man obeyed the summons. "At any rate, " he meditated with a slight return of complacency, as hebutted and shoved his way castle-wards, "he can scarcely mean to havemy head. For he was all day with my father at his elbow, and at theworst I shall have another chance of seeing"--he did not call thebeloved by her Christian name even to himself, so he compromised byadding somewhat lamely--"_her_. " Thus Sholto, putting speed in his heels and swinging along over thetrampled sward with the easy tireless trot of a sleuthhound, threadedhis way among the groups of villein prickers and swearing men-at-armswho cumbered the main approaches of the castle. He found the Earl walking swiftly up and down a little raised platformwhich extended round three sides of Thrieve, outside the maindefences, but yet within the nether moat, the sluggish water of whichit over-looked on its inner side. Earl William was manifestly discomposed and excited by the events ofthe day, and especially by the fact that the Lady Sybilla seemedutterly unconscious of ever having set eyes upon him before, appearingentirely oblivious of having received him in a pavilion ofrose-coloured silk under the shelter of a grove of tall pines. Theyoung lord instinctively recoiled from any communication with hismaster armourer, whose grave and impassive face revealed nothing whichmight be passing in his mind. Then the Earl's thoughts turned uponSholto, who had been the first to observe his beauteous companion ofthe Carlinwark woods. Earl William was even younger than Sholto, but the cares and dignitiesof a great position had rendered him far less boyish in manner andcarriage than the son of Malise MacKim. His head, now released from his helm, rose out from the richlyornamented collar of his armour with the grace of a flower and thestrength of a tree rooted among rocks. He had already laid aside hisgorget, and when Sholto was announced, the Earl's ancient retainer, old Landless Jock of Abernethy, was bringing him a cap of soft velvetwhich he threw on the back of his head with an air of supremecarelessness. Then he rose and walked up and down, carrying his armouras if it had been a mere feather weight, whereas it was tiltingharness of double plate and designed only for wearing on horseback. Sholto marked in the young lord a boyish eagerness equal to his own. Indeed, his impatient manner recalled his late feelings, as he hadstood on the bridge and desired to be left alone with his thoughts ofMaud Lindesay. Sholto stood still and quiet on the topmost step of the ascent fromthe moat-bridge waiting for the Earl to signify his will. CHAPTER XIV CAPTAIN OF THE EARL'S GUARD "Sholto MacKim, " said the Earl of Douglas, abruptly, "saw you the ladywho arrived with the foreign ambassador?" "She is indeed wondrous fair to look on, " answered Sholto, the wholeheart in him instantly wary, while outwardly he seemed more innocentthan before. "Have your eyes ever lighted on that lady before?" "Nay, my lord, of a surety no. In what manner should they, seeing thatI have never been in France in my life, nor indeed more than a scoreof miles from this castle of Thrieve?" "Thou art a good lad, and also ready of wit, Master Sholto, " said theEarl, looking at the armourer's son musingly. "Clear of eye and trueof hand, so they tell me. Did you not win the arrow prize this day?" Lord William raised his eyes to where in the bonnet of the youth hisown golden badge of archery glistened. "And I also won the swording prize at the last wappenshaw on the moothill of Urr, " said Sholto, taking courage, and being resolved that ifhis fortune stood not now on tiptoe, it should not be on account ofany superfluity of modesty on his own part. "Ah, " said the Earl, "I remember. It was two golden hearts joinedtogether with an arrow and a star in the midst--a fitting Douglasemblem, by the bones of Saint Bride! Where hast thou left that badgethat thou dost not wear it along with the other?" Sholto blushed and muttered that he had forgotten it at home. He wasall of a breaking perspiration lest he should have to tell the Earlthat he had given it to Maud Lindesay, as indeed he meant to dopresently, along with the golden buckle of archery, --that is if thedainty, mischievous-hearted maiden could be persuaded to acceptthereof. "Ah, " said the Earl, smiling, "I comprehend. There is some maid in thequestion, and if I advance you to the command of my house-guard andgive you an officer's responsibility, you will of a surety be everdesiring to go gadding to the greenwood--and around the loch ofCarlinwark are most truly dangerous glades. " "Nay, indeed nay, " cried Sholto, eagerly. "If it is my lord's will toappoint me to his guard, by Saint Bride and all the other saints Iswear never to leave the island, unless it be sometimes of a Sundayafternoon for an hour or two--just to see my mother. " "Your mother!" quoth the Earl, laughing heartily. "So then my twogolden hearts are in your mother's keeping. Art a good lad, Sholto, and as for guile it is simply not in thee!" Sholto looked modestly down upon the earth, as if conscious of his ownexceeding merits, but willing for the nonce to say nothing about them. But the young Earl came over to him, and dealing him a sound buffet onthe back, cried: "Nay, lad, that lamb-like look I have seen tried onmine uncle the Abbot of Sweetheart. Thy brother Laurence is in the wayof clerkly advancement on account of that same sweetly innocentregard, which he hath in even greater perfection. But I am a youngman, remember--and one youth flings not glamour easily into the eyesof another. Sholto, neither you nor I are any better than we shouldbe, and if we are not so evil as some others, let us not set up asoverwhelmingly virtuous. For at twenty virtue is mostly but lack ofopportunity. " Sholto blushed so becomingly at this accusation that if the Earl hadnot seen the brothers locked in the death grip like crabs in afishwife's creel, even he might have been deceived. "Nevertheless, " continued the Earl, "in spite of your claims tovirtue, I am resolved to make you officer of my castle-guard--if notin name, at least in fact. For old Landless Jock of Abernethy mustkeep the name while he lives, and stand first when my steward pays outthe chuckling golden Lions at Whitsun and eke Lady Day. But you shallhave enough and be no longer a charge upon your father. Malise shouldbe a proud man, having both his sons provided for in one day. " The Earl turned him about with his usual quick imperiousness. "Malise, " he cried, "Malise MacKim!" And again the "word" ran through the castle, escaped the gate, circumnavigated the moat, and ran round the circle of the tents tillthe shouts of "Malise, Malise, " could have been heard almost at thedeserted fords of Lochar, where sundry varlets were watching for achance to search the deserted pavilions for anything left behindtherein by the knights and squires. Presently there was seen ascending to the moat platform the huge formof the master armourer himself. He stood waiting his master'spleasure, with a knife which he had been sharpening in his hand. Itwas a curious weapon, long, thin, and narrow in the blade, which wasdouble-edged and ground fine as a razor on both sides. "Ah, Malise, " said the Earl, "you have not taught your son amiss. Hethreatens to turn out a most marvellous lad, for not only can he makeweapons, but he can excel the best of my men-at-arms in their use. Have you any objection that he be attached to my guard?" The strong man smiled with his usual calm, and kept his humorous greyeyes fixed shrewdly on the Earl. "Aye, " he said, "it is indeed more fitting that Sholto, my son, shouldride behind my Lord of Douglas than stiff old Malise upon his Flandersmare. " The Earl blushed a little, for he remembered how the armourer hadoffered to ride behind him after he had shod Black Darnaway at theCarlinwark. He went on somewhat hastily. "I have resolved to make your son, Sholto, officer of thecastle-guard. It is perhaps over-responsible a post for so young aman, yet I myself am younger and have heavier burdens to bear. AlsoLandless Jock is growing old and stiff, and will not suffer to bespoken to. For my father's sake I cannot be severe with him. He willdie in his charge if he will, but on Douglasdale and not at Thrieve. So now I would have your son do my bidding without question, which ismore than his father ever did before him. " "I can answer for Sholto, " said Malise MacKim. "He is afraid ofnothing save perhaps the strength of his father's right arm. He iscool enough in danger. Nothing daunts him except the flutter of afarthingale. But then my lord knows well that is a fault mostcommendable in this castle of Thrieve. Sholto will be an honestcaptain of your house-carls, if you see to it that the steward locksup his loaves of sugar and his most toothsome preserves. " "Faith, " cried the Earl, heartily, "I know not but what I would joinMaster Sholto in a raid on these dainties myself. " In this fashion was Sholto MacKim placed in command of the house-guardof the castle of Thrieve. CHAPTER XV THE NIGHT ALARM At parting with his father, the young captain received many wise andgrave instructions, all of which he resolved to remember and profitby--a resolution which he did not fail to keep for full five minutes. "Be douce in deportment, " said his father, speaking quietly and yetwith a certain sternness of demeanour. "Think three times before yougive an order, but let no man think even once before obeying it. Sethim astraddle the wooden horse with a spear shaft at either foot toteach him that a soldier's first duty is not to think. Keep your eyesmore on the alert for the approach of an enemy than for the ankles ofthe women-folk at the turnings of the turret stairs. " To these and many other maxims out of the incorporate wisdom of theelders, Sholto promised most faithful attendance, and, for the timebeing, he fully intended to keep his word. But no sooner was hisfather gone, and he introduced to his new quarters and duties by DavidDouglas, the Earl's younger brother, than he began to wonder which wasthe window of Maud Lindesay's chamber and speculate on how soon hewould see her thereat. In the castle of Thrieve that night there was little sleeping room tospare. The Earl and his brother lay wrapped in their plaids in one ofthe round towers of the outer defences. In the castle hall theretainers of the French ambassador slept side by side, or heads andtails with the archers of the house-guard. Lights flickered on theturnpike stair which led to the upper floors. The servitors hadcleared the great hall, and here on a dais, raised above the "marsh"and sheltered by an arras curtain hastily arranged, James the Grossslept on a soft French bed, which he had caused to be brought all theway from his castle of Strathavon on the moors of Lanarkshire. In the Earl's chamber on the third floor was lodged the Marshal deRetz. Next him ranged the apartment of the countess. Here also was theLady Sybilla at the end of the passage in the guest chamber whichlooked to the north, and from the windows of which she could see thebroad river dividing itself about the castle island, and flowing ascalmly on as if the stern feudal pile had been a peaceful monasteryand the waving war banners no more than so many signs of holy cross. Above, in the low-roofed chambers, which gave upon the wooden balcony, were the apartments of Maud Lindesay and her charge, little MargaretDouglas, the Fair Maid of Galloway. Now the single postern stair of the castle was shut at the foot, whereit opened out upon the hall of the guard by a sparred iron gate, thekey of which was put into Sholto's charge. The night closed early uponthe castle-ful of wearied folk. The marshals of the camps caused thelights to be put out at nine-of-the-clock in all the tents andpavilions, but the lamps and candles burned longer in the castleitself, where the Earl had been giving a banquet to his guests, ofthe best that his estates could afford. Nevertheless, it was yet longbefore midnight when the cheep of the mouse in the wainscot, therestless stir or muffled snore of a crowded sleeper in the guardroom, was the only sound to be heard from dungeon to banner-staff of thegreat castle. Sholto's heart throbbed tumultuous and insurgent within him. And smallis the wonder. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined such a fateas this, to be actual captain of the Earl's own body-guard, eventhough neither title nor emolument was yet wholly his; better still, that he should dwell night and day within arm's reach almost of thedesire of his heart, flinty-bosomed and mischievous as she was--thesewere heights of good fortune to which his imagination had neverclimbed in its most daring ascents. No longer did he envy his brother's good fortune, as he had beensomewhat inclined to do earlier in the day, when he thought ofreturning to wield the forehammer all alone in his father's smithy. The first night of Captain Sholto's responsibility in the castle ofThrieve was destined to be a memorable one. To the youth himself itwould have appeared so in any case. Only a panelled door divided himfrom the girl who, wayward and scornful as she had ever been to him, yet kept his heart dangling at her waist-belt as truly as if it hadbeen the golden key of her armoire. The ancient Sir John of Abernethy, dubbed Landless Jock, would not beseparated from his masters, and slept with two sergeants of the guardin the turret adjacent to that in which the brothers of Douglas, William and David, lay in the first sleep of youth and an easy mind. Sholto therefore found himself left with the undivided responsibilityfor the safety of the castle and all who dwelt within it. He was alsothe only man who, by reason of his charge and in virtue of hismaster-key, was permitted to circulate freely through all the floorsand passages of the vast feudal pile. Sholto went out to the barred gate of the castle, where in a littlecubbyhole dark even at noonday, and black as Egypt now, the warderslept with his hand upon his keys, and his head touching the lever ofthe gear wherewith he drew the creaking portcullis up and rolled backthe iron doors which shut the keep off from the world of the wideouter courtyard and the garrison which manned the turrets. The porter, Hugh MacCalmont, sat up on his elbow at Sholto'ssalutation, only enough to see his visitor by the glint of the littleiron "cruisie" lamp hanging upon the wall. He knew him by the goldenchain of office which the Earl had given Sholto. "Captain of the guard, " he muttered, "Lord, here's advancement indeed. My lord might have remembered me that have served him faithfully thesethirty years, opening and shutting without mistake. He might havenamed me captain of the guard, and not this limber Jack. But the younglove the young, and in truth 'tis natural. But what Landless Jock willsay when he comes to have this sprat set over him, I know not but Ican guess!" Satisfied that all was safe there, Sholto stepped gingerly over thereclining forms of the first relief guard, who lay wrapped in theircloaks, every man grasping his arms. Most of these were lying in thedead sleep of tired men, whilst others restlessly moved about thisway and that, as if seeking an easier adaptation of their bones to thecorners of the blue whinstones and rough shell lime than had beenprovided for when the castle was built by Archibald the Grim, Lord ofThrieve and Galloway. Close by the last turn of the turret staircase yawned the iron-sparredmouth of the dungeon, in which in its time many a notable prisoner hadbeen immured. It was closed with a huge grid of curved iron bars, eachas thick as a man's arm, cunningly held together by a giganticpadlock, the key of which was nightly taken to the sleeping-room ofthe Earl--whether, as was now the case, the cell stood empty, orwhether it contained an English lord waiting ransom or a rebelliousbaron expectant of his morning summons to the dule tree of the BlackDouglas. Then taking the master-key from his belt, Sholto unlocked the sparredgate leading from the _salle de garde_ into the turret stair which wasthe sole communication with the upper floors of the castle. Slowly, and with a step no louder than the beating of his own heart, he went upwards, glancing in midway upon the banquet hall, where thedim light from the postern without revealed a number of dark formswrapped in slumber lying on the dining-table and on the floor;ascending yet higher he came to the floor where slept the Countess ofDouglas, the Lady Sybilla, and in the Earl's own chamber the Marshalde Retz, ambassador of the King of France. Sholto stood a moment with his hand raised in a listening attitude, before he ventured to ascend those narrower stairs which led to theuppermost floor of all, on which were the chambers occupied by thelittle Maid Margaret and her companion and gossip Mistress MaudLindesay. He told himself that it was his duty to see to the safety of the wholecastle; that he had special instructions to visit three times, duringthe course of each night of duty, all the passages and corridors ofthe fortress. But nevertheless it needed all his courage to enableSholto to perform the task which had been laid upon him. As he draggedone foot after the other up the turret stairs, it seemed as if aleaden clog had been attached to each pointed shoe. He had also a vague sense of being watched by presences invisible tohim, but malign in their nature. Again and again he caught himselflistening for footsteps which seemed to dog his own. He heardmysterious whisperings that flouted his utmost vigilance, and mockinglaughter that lurked in unseen crevices and broke out so soon as hehad passed. Sholto set his hand firmly upon his sword handle and bit his lips, lest even to himself he should own his uneasiness. It was not seemlythat the captain of the Douglas guard should be frightened by shadows. Passing the corridor which led towards the sleeping rooms of the maidand her companion, he ascended to the roof of the castle, thrustingaside the turret door and issuing upon the wide, open spaces with anassured step. The cool breeze from the west restored him to himself ina moment. The waning moon cast a pale light across the landscape, andhe could see the tents on the castle island glimmer greyish whitebeneath him. Beyond that again was the shining confluence of thesluggish river about the isle, and the dark line of the woods ofBalmaghie opposite. He had begun to meditate on the rapid changes ofcircumstance which had overtaken him, when suddenly a shrill andpiercing shriek rang out, coming up through the castle beneath, againand again repeated. It was like the cry of a child in the grip ofinstant and deadly terror. Sholto's heart gave a great bound. That something untoward shouldhappen on this the first night of his charge was too disastrous. Hedrew his sword and set in his lips the silver call which depended fromthe chain of office the Earl had thrown about his neck when he madehim captain of his guard. His feet hardly touched the stone stairs as he flew downwards, andwings were added to his haste by the sounds of fear which continued toincrease. In another moment he was upon the last step of the turnpikeand at the entrance of the corridor which led to the rooms of thelittle Lady Margaret and Maud Lindesay. As Sholto came rushing down the steep descent from the roof he caughtsight of a dark and shaggy beast running on all fours just turning outof the corridor, and taking the first step of the descent towards thefloor beneath. Without pausing to consider, Sholto lunged forward withall his might, and his sword struck the fugitive quadruped behind theshoulder. He had time to see in the pale bluish flicker of the_cruisie_ lamp that the beast he had wounded was of a dark colour, andthat its head seemed immensely too large for its body. Nevertheless, the thing did not fall, but ran on and vanished out ofSholto's sight. The young man again set the silver call to his lipsand blew. The next moment he could hear the soldiers of the guardclattering upward from their hall, and he himself ran along thecorridor towards the place whence the screams of terror seemed toproceed. CHAPTER XVI SHOLTO CAPTURES A PRISONER OF DISTINCTION He found that the noise came from the chamber occupied by the littleLady Margaret. When he arrived at the door it stood open to the wall. The child was sitting up on her bed, clothed in the white garmentry ofthe night. Bending over her, with her arms round the heaving shouldersof the little girl, Sholto saw Maud Lindesay, clad in a dark, hoodedmantle thrown with the appearance of haste about her. The door of thenext chamber also stood wide, and from the coverlets cast on the floorit was obvious that its occupant had left it hastily in order to flyto her friend's assistance. At the sound of hasty footsteps Maud Lindesay turned about, and wasinstantly stricken pale and astonished by the sight of the young manwith his sword bare. She cried aloud with a stern and defiantcountenance, "Sholto MacKim, what do you here?" And before he had time to answer, the little girl looked at him out ofher friend's arms and called out: "O Sholto, Sholto, I am so glad youare come. I woke to find such a terrible thing looking at me out ofthe night. It was shaped like a great wolf, but it was rough of hide, and had upon it a head like a man's. I was so terrified that at firstI could not cry out. But when it came nearer, and gazed at me, then Icried. Do not go away, Sholto. I am so glad, so glad that you arehere. " Maud Lindesay had again turned towards Margaret. "Hush, " she said soothingly, "it was a dream. You were frighted by avision, by a nightmare, by a succubus of the night. There is no beastwithin the castle. " "But I saw it plainly, " the maid cried. "It opened the door as if ithad hands--I saw it stand there by the bed and look at me--oh, soterribly! I saw its teeth glisten and heard them snap together!" "Little one, be still, it was but a dream, " said Sholto, untruthfully;"nevertheless I will go and search the rest of the castle. " And with these words he went along the corridor, finding the men whomhe had summoned by means of his captain's silver call clustered uponthe landing of the turret stair which communicated with the thirdfloor. As he glanced along the oak-panelled corridor, it seemed toSholto that he discerned a figure vanishing at the further end. Instantly he resolved on searching, and summoning his men to follow, he led the way down the passage, sword in hand. As he went he snatchedthe lamp from its pin on the wall, and held it in his left high abovehis head. At the further end of the corridor was the door of a little chamber, and it seemed to Sholto that the shape he had seen must havedisappeared at this point. He knocked loudly on the door with the hilt of his sword, and cried, "If any be within, open--in the name of the Earl!" No voice replied, and Sholto boldly set his foot against the lowerpanelling, and drove the door back to the wall with a clang. Then at sight of a something dark, wrapped in a cloak, standingmotionless against the window, the young captain of the guard elevatedhis lamp, and let the flicker of the light fall on the erect figureand haughty face of a young man, who, with his hand on his hip, stoodconsidering the rude advance of his pursuers with a calm andquestioning gaze. It was the Earl of Douglas himself. Sholto stood petrified at sight of him, and for a long minute could inno wise recover his self-control nor regain any use of his tongue. "Well, " said the Earl, haughtily, "whence this unseemly uproar? Whatdo you here, Sholto?" Then the spirit of his father came upon the young captain of theguard. He knew that he had only done his duty in its strictness, andhe boldly answered the Earl: "Nay, my lord, were it not for courtesy, I have more right to ask you that question. Your sister hath beenfrighted, and at sound of her terror all we who were dispersedthroughout the castle rushed to the spot. As I came down the stairsfrom the roof at speed, I saw something like to a great wolf about todescend the turret before me. With my sword I struck at it, and to allappearance wounded it. It vanished, and after searching the castle Ican find neither wolf nor dog. But I saw, as it seemed, a figure enterthis room, and upon opening it I find--the Earl of Douglas. That isall I know, and I leave the matter in my lord's own hands. " The haughty look gradually disappeared from the face of the Earl asSholto spoke. Smilingly he dismissed the guard with a word, saying that he wouldinquire into the cause of the disturbance in person, and then turnedto Sholto. "You are right, " he said, "you have entirely done your duty andjustified my appointment. " He paused, looked this way and that along the corridor, and continued: "It chanced that in the tower without I could not sleep, and feelinguneasy concerning my guests, I entered the castle by the private doorand staircase which leads into the apartment corresponding to this onthe floor beneath. I was assuring myself that you were doing your dutywhen, being disturbed by the sudden hubbub, and judging it needlessthat the men-at-arms should know of my presence in the castle, I camein hither till the matter should have blown over. And so, but for yourgood conscience and the keenness of your vision, the matter would haveended. " Sholto bowed coldly. "But, my lord, " he said, ignoring the Earl's explanation, "the mattergrows more mysterious than ever. Your sister, the little LadyMargaret, hath been grievously frighted by an appearance like a greatbeast which (so she affirms) opened the door of her chamber and lookedwithin. " "She but dreamed, " said the Earl, carelessly; "such visions come fromsupping late. " "But, with all respect, your lordship, " continued Sholto, "I also sawthe appearance even as I ran down the stairs from the roof at thenoise of her crying. " "You were startled--excited, and but thought you saw. " Sholto reversed his sword, which he had held with the point towardsthe ground while he was speaking with his lord the Earl. Holding the blade midway with much deference, he presented the hilt toWilliam Douglas. "Will you examine the point of this sword?" he said. The Earl came a step nearer to him and Sholto advanced the steel tillit was immediately beneath the lamp. There was blood upon the lastinch or so of the blade. The Earl suddenly became violently agitated. "This is indeed passing strange. There is no hound within the castlenor has there been for years. Even the presence of a lap-dog will fretmy mother, so in my father's time they were every one removed to thekennels at the further end of the isle of Thrieve, whence even theirhowling cannot be heard. But let us proceed to the Lady Margaret, andon our way examine the place where you saw the apparition. " Sholto stood aside for the Earl to pass, but with a wave of his handthe latter said courteously, "Nay, but do you lead the way, captain ofthe guard. " They passed the door of the chamber where lay the Lady Sybilla. Theniece of the ambassador must have been a heavy sleeper, for there wasno sound within. Opposite was the chamber of the Earl's mother. Shealso appeared to be undisturbed, but the increasing deafness of theCountess offered a complete explanation of her tranquillity. Next the two young men came to the door of the marshal's chamber. Asthey were about to pass, it opened silently, and a man-servant with aclosely cropped obsequious head appeared within. He unclosed the doorno further than would permit of his exit, and then he shut it againbehind him, and stood holding the latch in his hand. "His Excellency, being overfatigued, hath need of a little strongspirit, " he said, with a curious gobbling movement of his throat as ifhe himself had been either thirsty or in deadly and overmasteringfear. The Earl ordered Sholto to wake the cellarer and bid him bring theambassador of France that which he required. He himself would goonward to his sister's chamber. Sholto somewhat sullenly obeyed, forhis heart was hot and angry within him. He thought that he began tosee clearly the motive of the Earl's presence in the castle. The youthwas himself so deeply and hopelessly in love with Mistress MaudLindesay that he could not understand any other of his sex beinginsensible to the charm of her beauty and myriad winsome graces. As he went down the stairs he recalled a thousand circumstances tomind which now seemed capable of but one explanation. It was evidentthat the Earl William came to visit some one by means of the privatestaircase under cloud of night. Nay, more, Maud Lindesay and he mightbe already privately married, and the matter kept secret on account ofthe pride of his family, who devised another match for him. For thoughthe daughter of a knight, Maud Lindesay was assuredly no fit mate forthe head of the more than regal house of Douglas. He remembered how onSundays and saints' days Earl William always rode to and from the kirkwith his sister on one side and Maud Lindesay on the other. That theyoung Earl was by no means insensible to beauty, Sholto knew well, and he remembered his words to his own father, when he had asked to beallowed to accompany him on his Flanders mare, that such attendancewas not seemly when a man was going a-courting. As is always the case, he grew more and more confirmed in his illhumour, so soon as the eye of jealousy began to view everything in thelight of prepossession. Sholto awaked the cellarer out of his crib, who, presently, withsnorts of disdain and much jangling of steel keys, drew half a tankardfrom a keg of spirit in the cellar on the dungeon floor and handed itgrudgingly to the captain of the guard. "The Frenchman wants it, does he?" he growled. "Had the messenger beenold Landless Jock, I had known down whose Scottish throat it had gone, but this one is surely too young for such tricks. See that you spillit not by the way, Master Sholto, " he called out after him, as thatyouth betook himself up to the chamber of the ambassador of France. At the shut portal he paused and knocked. His hand was on the pin toenter with the tankard as was the custom. But the door opened no morethan an inch or two, and the dark face of the cropped servitorappeared in the crevice. "In a moment, sir, " he said, and again vanished within, while a stronganimal odour disengaged itself almost like something tangible from thechinks of the doorway. Sholto stood in astonishment with the _eau de vie_ in his hand, tillpresently the door was opened again very quickly. The form of theservitor was seen, and with a swift edging motion he came out, drawingthe door behind him as before. He held a bar of iron in his hand likethe fastening of a window, and a little breath of heat told thesmith's son that though black it was still warm from the fire. "Take this iron, " he said abruptly, "and bring it to me fully heated. I am finishing a little device which his Excellency needs for thecombat of the morrow. " The captain of the guard was nettled at the man's tone. Also hedesired much to know what his master was doing on the floor above. "Heat it at your own nose, fellow, " he said rudely; "I am captain ofthe castle-guard, and must attend to my own business. Take the spiritout of my hand if you do not want it thrown in your face. " The swarthy, bullet-headed man glared at him with eyes like burningcoals, but Sholto cared no jot for his anger. Forthwith he turned hisback upon him, glad at heart to have found some one to quarrel with, and hoping that the ambassador's squire might prove courageous andchallenge him to fight on the morrow. But the man only replied: "I am Henriet, servant of the marshal. I bidyou remember that I shall make you live to regret these words. " CHAPTER XVII THE LAMP IS BLOWN OUT The door of Margaret Douglas's chamber still stood open, and Sholtofound Earl William seated upon the foot of the bed, endeavouring byevery means in his power to distract his sister's attention from herfears. Maud Lindesay, now more completely dressed than when he hadfirst seen her, sat on the other side of the little lady's couch. Shewas laughing as he entered at some merry jest of the Earl's. And atthe sound of her tinkling mirth Sholto's heart sank within him. Sosoon as she caught sight of the new captain of the guard the gladnessleft her face, and she became grave and sober, like a gossip longunconfessed when the holy father comes knocking at the door. At sight of her emotion Sholto resolved that if his fears should proveto be well founded, he would resign his honourable office. For toabide continually in the castle, and hourly observe Maud Lindesay'slove for another, was more than his philosophy could stand. In the meantime there was only his duty to be done. So he saluted theEarl, and in a few words told him that which he had seen. But the soulof William Douglas was utterly devoid of suspicion, both because heheld himself so great that none could touch him, and also because, being high of spirit and open as the sky, he read into the acts ofothers his own straightforwardness and unsuspicion. The Earl rose smilingly, declaring to Margaret that to-morrow he wouldhang every dog and puppy in Galloway on the dule tree of Thrieve, whereupon the child began to plead for the life of this cur and thatother of her personal acquaintances with a tearful earnestness whichtold of a sorely jangled mind. "Well, at least, " cried Earl Douglas, "I will not have such brutesprowling about my castle of Thrieve even in my sister's dreams. Captain Sholto, do you station a man of your guard in the angle of thestaircase where it looks along each corridor. Pick out your prettiestcross-bowmen, for it were not seemly that my guests should bedisturbed by the rude shots and villanous reek of the fusil. " Sholto bowed stiffly and waited the further pleasure of his master. Then the two young men went out without Maud Lindesay having uttered aword, or manifested the least surprise at the advancement which hadbefallen the heir of the master armourer of Carlinwark. As soon as the door had closed upon the two maidens, the Earl turned aface suddenly grave and earnest on his young captain of the guard. "What think you, " he said, "was this appearance real?" "Real enough to leave these upon the floor, " answered Sholto, pointingto sundry gouts and drops of blood upon the turret stairs. The Earl took the lamp from his hand and earnestly scrutinised eachstep in a downward direction. The spots ran irregularly as if thewounded beast had shaken his head from side to side as he ran. Theyturned along towards the corridor where at the first alarm Sholto hadfound the Earl, and in the very midst of it abruptly stopped. WhileSholto and William Douglas were examining the floor, they both lookedover their shoulders, uneasily conscious of a regard upon them, as ifsome one, unseen himself, had been looking down from behind. "Do you place your men as I told you, " said the Earl, abruptly, "andbring me a truckle bed out of the guardroom. I shall remain in thiscloset till morning. But do you keep a special lookout on the floorabove, that the repose of my sister and her friend be not againdisturbed. " Sholto bowed without speech, and hastening down to the guardroom hecommanded two of his best bowmen to follow him with their apparatus, while he himself snatched up the low truckle couch which customassigned to the captain of the guard should he desire to rest himselfduring the night, and on which Landless Jock had always passed themajority of his hours of duty. This he carried to the Earl, andplacing it in the angle he saw his youthful master stretch himselfupon it, wrapped in his cloak and with a naked sword ready to hishand. "A good and undisturbed slumber to you, my lord, " said Sholto, curtly, as he went out. He saw that his two men were duly posted upon the lower landing of thestair, and then betook himself to the upper floor where slept thelittle Maid of Galloway. He walked slowly to the end of the passage scrutinising every recessand closet door, every garde-robe and wall press from which it waspossible that the beast he had seen might have emerged. He was whollyunsuccessful in discovering anything suspicious, and had almostresolved to station himself at the turn of the staircase which leddown from the roof, when, looking back, at the sharp click of a latch, he saw Maud Lindesay coming out of the chamber of the little Maid ofGalloway. Softly closing the door behind her, she paused a moment as ifundecided, and then more with her chin than with her finger shebeckoned him to approach. "She sleeps, " said the girl, softly, "but so uncertainly and with somany startings of terror, that I will not leave her alone. Will youaid me to remove the mattress of my couch and lay it on the floorbeside her?" Sholto signified his willingness. His mind was more than everoppressed by the thought that the Earl of Douglas loved this girl, whom he had found listening to his jests with such frank joyousness. Maud stayed him with one of the long looks out from under hereyelashes. The dark violet orbs rested upon him a moment reproachfullywith a hurt expression in their depths, and were then dropped with asigh. "You are still angry with me, " she said, a little wistfully, "and Iwanted to tell you how happy it made me--made us, I mean--when weheard that you were to be captain of the castle-guard instead of thatgrumbling old curmudgeon, Jock of Abernethy. " The heart of Sholto was instantly melted, more by her looks than byher words, though deep within him he had still an angry feeling thathe was being played with. All the same, and in spite of his resolves, the eyeshot from under those dark and sweeping lashes did its usualand deadly work. "I did not know that aught which might befall me could be anything toMistress Maud Lindesay, " said Sholto, with the last shreds of dignityin his voice. "I said not to me, but to _us_, " she corrected, smiling; "but tell mewhat think you of this appearance which has so startled our Margaret. Was it ghost or goblin or dream of the night? We have never had eitherwitch or warlock about the house of Thrieve since the old Abbot Gawainlaid the ghost of Archibald the Grim with four-and-forty masses, saidwithout ever breaking his fast, down there in the castle chapel. " "Nay, ask me not, " answered Sholto, "I am little skilled in mattersspiritual. I should try sword point and arrowhead on such gentry, andif these do them no harm, why then I think they will not distress memuch. " But all the same he said nothing to the girl about the red blood onhis sword or the splashed gouts on the steps of the staircase. He followed Maud Lindesay into her chamber, and being arrived there, lifted couch and all in his arms, with an ease born of longapprenticeship to the forehammer. The girl regarded him withadmiration which she was careful not to dissemble. "You are very strong, " she said. Then, after a pause, she added, "Margaret and I like strong men. " The heart of the youth was glad within him, thus to be called a man, even though he kept saying over and over to himself: "She means itnot! She means it not! She loves the Earl! I know well she loves theEarl!" Maud Lindesay paused a moment before the chamber door of her littlecharge, finger on lip, listening. "She sleeps--go quietly, " she whispered, holding the door open forhim. He set down the bed where she showed him--by the side of thesmall slumbering figure of the Maid of Galloway. Then he went softly to the door. The girl followed him. "You will notbe far away, " she said doubtfully and with a perilous sort ofhumility, "if this dreadful thing should come back again? I--that iswe, would feel safer if we knew that you--that any one strong andbrave was near at hand. " Then the heart of Sholto broke out in quick anger. "Deceive me not, " he cried, "I know well that the Earl loves you, andthat you love him in return. " "Well, indeed, were it for my lord Earl if he loved as honest awoman, " said Maud Lindesay, pouting disdainfully. "But what is such amatter, yea or nay, to you?" "It is all life and happiness to me, " said Sholto, earnestly. "Ah, donot go--stay a moment. I shall never sleep this night if you gowithout giving me an answer. " "Then, " said the girl, "you will be the more in the line of your duty, which allows not much sleep o' nights. You are but a silly, petulantboy for all your fine captaincy. I wish it had been Landless Jock. Hewould never have vexed me with foolish questions at such a time. " "But I love you, and I demand an answer, " cried Sholto, fuming. "Doyou love the Earl?" "What do you think yourself now?" she said, looking up at him with aninimitable slyness, and pronouncing her words so as to imitate thebroad simplicity of countryside speech. Sholto vented a short gasp or inarticulate snort of anger, at whichMaud Lindesay started back with affected terror. "Do not fright a poor maid, " she said. "Will you put me in the castledungeon if I do not answer? Tell me exactly what you want me to say, and I will say it, most mighty captain. " And she made him the prettiest little courtesy, turning at the sametime her eyes in mock humility on the ground. "Oh, Maud Lindesay, " said Sholto, with a little conflicting sob in histhroat, ill becoming so noted a warrior as the captain of thecastle-guard of the Black Douglas, "if you knew how I loved you, youwould not treat me thus. " The girl came nearer to him and laid a white and gentle hand on thesleeve of his blue archer's coat. "Nay, lad, " she said more soberly, lifting a finger to his face, "surely you are no milksop to mind how a girl flouts you. Love theEarl--say you? Well, is it not our duty to the bread we eat? Is he notworthy? Is he not the head of our house?" "Cheat me not with words. The Earl loves you, " said Sholto, liftinghis head haughtily out of her reach. (To have one's chin pushed thisway and that by a girl's forefinger, and as it were consideredcritically from various points of view, may be pleasant, but itinterferes most seriously with dignity. ) "He may, indeed, " drolled the minx, "one can never tell. But he hasnever said so. He is perhaps afraid, being born without theself-conceit of some people--archers of the guard, fledgling captains, and such-like gentrice. " "Do you love him?" reiterated Sholto, determinedly. "I will tell you for that gold buckle, " said Maud, calmly pointingwith her finger. Instantly Sholto pulled the cap from his head, undid the pin of thearchery prize, and thrust it into his wicked sweetheart's hands. She received it with a little cry of joy, then she pressed it to herlips. Sholto, rejoicing at heart, moved a step nearer to her. But, inspite of her arch delight, she was on the alert, for she retreateddeftly and featly within the chamber door of the Fair Maid ofGalloway. There was still more mirthful wickedness in her eyes. "Love the Earl?--Of course I do. Indeed, I doat upon him, " she said. "How I shall love this buckle, just because his hand gave it to you!" And with that she shut to the door. Sholto, in act to advance, stood a moment poised on one foot like agoose. Then with a heart blazing with anger, and one of the firstoaths that had ever passed his lips, he turned on his heel and strodeaway. "I will never think of her again--I will never see her. I will go toFrance and perish in battle. I will throw me in the castle pool. Iwill--" So the poor lad retreated, muttering hot and angry words, all hisheart sore within him because of the cruelty of this girl. But he had not proceeded twenty steps along the corridor, when heheard the door softly open and a low voice whispered, "Sholto! Sholto!I want you, Sholto!" He bent his brows and strode manfully on as if he had not heard aword. "Sholto!--dear Sholto! Do not go, I need you. " Against his will he turned, and, seeing the head of Maud Lindesay, herpouting lips and beckoning finger, he went sulkily back. "Well?" he said, with the stern curtness of a military commander, ashe stood before her. She held the iron lamp in her hand. The wick had fallen aside and wasnow wasting itself in a broad, unequal yellow flame. The maid ofhonour looked at it in perplexity, knitting her pretty brows in a mockfrown. "It burned me as I was ordering my hair, " she said. "I cannot blow itout. I dare not. Will you--will you blow it out for me, CaptainSholto?" She spoke with a sweet childlike humility. And she held the lamp up so that the iron handle was almost touchingher soft cheek. There was a dancing challenge in her dark eyes and herlips smiled dangerously red. She could not, of course, have known thatthe light made her look so beautiful, or she would have been morecareful. Sholto stood still a moment, at wrestle with himself, trying toconquer his dignity, and to retain his attitude of stern disapproval. But the girl swept her lashes up towards him, dropped them again darkas night upon her cheek, and anon looked a second time at him. "I am sorry, " she said, more than ever like a child. "Forgive me, and--the lamp is so hot. " Now Sholto was young and inexperienced, but he was not quite a fool. He stooped and blew out the light, and the next moment his lips restedupon other lips which, as it had been unconsciously, resigned theirsoft sweetness to his will. Then the door closed, and he heard the click of the lock as the boltswere shot from within. The gallery ran round and round about him likea clacking wheel. His heart beat tumultuously, and there was a strangehumming sound in his ears. The captain of the guard stumbled half distracted down the turretstair. The old world had been destroyed in a moment and he was walking in anew, where perpetual roses bloomed and the spring birds sang forevermore. He knew not, this poor foolish Sholto, that he had much tolearn ere he should know all the tricks and stratagems of this mostnaughty and prettily disdainful minx, Mistress Maud Lindesay. But for that night at least he thought he knew her heart and soul, which made him just as happy. CHAPTER XVIII THE MORNING LIGHT In the morning Sholto MacKim had other views of it. Even when at lasthe was relieved from duty he never closed an eye. The blowing out ofthe lamp had turned his ideas and hopes all topsy-turvy. His heartsang loud and turbulent within him. He had kissed other girls indeedbefore at kirns and country dances. He laughed triumphantly within himat the difference. They had run into corners and screamed andstruggled, and held up ineffectual hands. And when his lips did reachtheir goal, it was generally upon the bridge of a nose or a tip of anear. He could not remember any especial pleasure accompanying therite. But this! The bolt of an arbalast could not have given him a moreinstant or tremendous shock. His nerves still quivered responsive tothe tremulous yielding of the lips he had touched for a moment in thedark of the doorway. He felt that never could he be the same man hehad been before. Deep in his heart he laughed at the thought. And then again, with a quick revulsion, the return wave came upon him. "How, if she be as untouched as her beauty is fresh, has she learnedthat skill in caressing?" He paused to think the matter over. "I remember my father saying that a wise man should always mistrust agirl who kisses overwell. " Then again his better self would reassert itself. "No, " he would argue, tramping up and down the corridor, wheeling inthe short bounds of the turnpike head, and again returning upon hisown footsteps, "why should I belie her? She is as pure as theair--only, of course, she is different to all others. She speaksdifferently; her eyes are different, her hair, her hands--why shouldshe not be different also in this?" But when Maud Lindesay met Sholto in the morning, coming suddenly uponhim as he stood, with a pale face and dark rings of sleeplessnessabout his eyes, as he looked meditatively out upon the broad river andthe blue smoke of the morning campfires, there was yet anotherdifference to be revealed to him. He had expected that, like others, she would be confused and bashful meeting him thus in the daylight, after--well, after the volcanic extinguishing of the lamp. But there she stood, dainty and calm under the morning sunshine, infresh clean gown of lace and varied whiteness, her face grave as abenediction, her eyes deep and cool like the water of the castle well. Sholto started violently at sight of her, recovered himself, andeagerly held out both his hands. "Maud, " he said hoarsely, and then again, in a lower tone, "sweetestMaud. " But pretty Mistress Lindesay only gazed at him with a certain reservedand grave surprise, looking him straight in the face and completelyignoring his outstretched hands. "Captain Sholto, " she said steadily and calmly, "the Lady Margaretdesires to see you and to thank you for your last night's care andwatchfulness. Will you do me the honour to follow me to her chamber?" There was no yielding softness about this maiden of the morning hours, no conscious droop and a swift uplifting of penitent eyelids, nolingering glances out of love-weighted eyes. A brisk and practicallittle lady rather, her feet pattering most purposefully along theflagged passages and skipping faster than even Sholto could followher. But at the top of the second stairs he was overquick for her. Bytaking the narrow edges of the steps he reached the landing level withhis mistress. His desire was to put out his hand to circle her lithe waist, fornothing is so certainly reproductive of its own species as a firstkiss. But he had reckoned without the lady's mutual intent and favour, which in matters of this kind are proverbially important. MistressMaud eluded him, without appearing to do so, and stood farther off, safely poised for flight, looking down at him with cold, reproachfuleyes. "Maud Lindesay, have you forgotten last night and the lamp?" he askedindignantly. "What may you mean, Captain Sholto?" she said, with wonderment in hertone, "Margaret and I never use lamps. Candles are so much safer, especially at night. " CHAPTER XIX LA JOYEUSE BAITS HER HOOK On the morrow, the ambassador of France being confined to his roomwith a slight quinsy caught from the marshy nature of the environmentof Thrieve, the Earl escorted the Lady Sybilla to the field of thetourney, where, as Queen of Beauty, her presence could not bedispensed with. The Maid Margaret, the Earl's sister, remained also in the castle, nothaving yet recovered from her fright of the preceding evening. With her was Maud Lindesay and her mother--"the Auld Leddy, " as shewas called throughout all the wide dominions of her son. In spite of his weariness Sholto led his archer guard in person to thefield of the tournament. For this day was the day of the High Sport, and many lances would be splintered, and often would the commonaltyneed to be scourged from the barriers. But ere he went Sholto summoned two of the staunchest fellows of hiscompany, Andro, called the Penman, and his brother John. Then, havingposted them at either end of the corridor in which were the chambersoccupied by the two girls, he laid a straight charge, and a heavy, upon them. "On your heads be it if you fail, or let one soul pass, " he said. "Stand ready with your hands on the wheel of your cross-bows, and ifany man come hither, challenge him to stand, and bid him return theway he came. But if any dog or thing running on four feet ascend ordescend the stair, make no sound, ask no question, cry no warning, butwhang the steel bolt through his ribs, in at one side and out at theother. " Then Andro the Penman and his brother John, being silent capablefellows, said nothing, but spat on their hands, smiled at each otherwell pleased, and made the wheels of their cross-bows sing a clearwhirring note. "I would not like to be that dog--" said Andro the Swarthy. "Whose foul carcase I pray God to send speedily, " echoed John theBlond. Sholto had hoped that whilst he was at the guard-setting, he mighthave had occasion to see once more the tantalising mischief-maker whomhe yet loved with all his heart, in spite of, or perhaps because of, the distraction to which she continually reduced his spirit by meansof her manifold and incalculable contrarieties. Nevertheless, it was with an easier heart that Sholto wended his wayout of the castle yett, all arrayed in the new suit of armour his lordhad sent him. It was made of chain of the finest, composed of manyrings set alternately thick and thin, and the whole was flexible asthe deer leather which he wore underneath it. Over this a doublet ofblue silk carried the Lion of Galloway done in white upon it, and allthe cerulean of the ground was dotted over with the Douglas heart. But, greatest joy of all, there was brought to him by command of theEarl a suitable horse, not heavily armed like a charger for the tilt, but light of foot, and answering easily to the hand. Blue and red werethe silken housings, fringed with long silver lace, through whichcould be seen here and there as the wind blew the sheen of the glossyskin. The buckles and bits were also of massive silver, and at sightof them the cup of Sholto's happiness was full. For a space, as hegazed upon his steed, he forgot even Maud Lindesay. Then when he was mounted and out upon the green, waiting for thecoming forth of his lord, what delight it was to feel the noble darkgrey answer to each touch of the rein, obeying his master's thoughtmore than the strength of his wrist or the prick of his heel. As he waited there, his predecessor in office, old Sir John ofAbernethy, Landless Jock as he was nicknamed, came out from the maindoorway. He carried a gleaming headpiece from which the blue featherof the Douglas fell over his arm half-way to the ground. On its frontwas a lion crest which ramped among golden _fleur-de-lys_. The old manheld it up for Sholto to take. "Hae, " he said in a surly tone, "this is his lordship's new helmetjust brought as a present frae the Dauphin of France. So he has castoff the well-tried one, and with it also the auld servant that hathserved him these many years. " "Nay, Sir John, " said Sholto, with courtesy, taking the helmet whichit was his duty as his master's esquire to carry before him on avelvet-covered placque, "nay--well has the good servant deserved hisrest, and to take his ease. The young to the broil and the moil, theold to the inglenook and the cup of wine beneath the shade. " "Ah, lad, I envy ye not, think not that of puir Landless Jock, " saidthe mollified old man, sadly shaking his head; "I also have tried thenew office, the shining armour, and felt the words of command riseproudly in the throat. I envy you not, though your advancement hathbeen sudden--and well--for my own son John I had hoped, though indeedthe loon is paper backed and feckless. But now there remains for meonly to go to the Kirk of Saint Bride in Douglasdale, and there set medown by my auld master's coffin till I die. " At that moment there issued forth from the gateway the young Earl, holding by the hand the Lady Sybilla. His mother, the Countess, cameto the door to see them ride away. The Queen of the Sports was in amerry mood, and as she tripped down the steps she turned, and lookingover her shoulder she called to the Lady Douglas, "Fear not for yourson, I will take good care of him!" But the elder woman answered neither her smile nor yet her word, butstood like a mother who sees a first-born son treading in placesperilous, yet dares not warn him, knowing well that she would drivehim to giddier and yet more dangerous heights. The pennons of the escort fluttered in the breeze as the men onhorseback tossed their lances high in the air, in salutation of theirlord. The archer guard stood ranked and ready, bows on their shouldersand arrows in quiver. Horses neighed, armour clanked and sparkled, andfrom the moat platform twenty silver trumpets blared a fanfare as theLady Sybilla, the arbiter of this day's chivalry, mounted her palfreywith the help of Earl Douglas. She thanked him with a low word in hisear, audible only to himself, as he set her in the saddle and bent tokiss her hand. A right gallant pair were Douglas and Sybilla de Thouars as they rodeaway, their heads close together, over the green sward and under thetossing banners of the bridge. Sholto was behind them giving greatheed to the managing of his horse, and wondering in his heart ifindeed Maud Lindesay were looking down from her chamber window. Asthey passed the drawbridge he turned him about in his saddle, as itwere, to see that his men rode all in good order. A little jet ofwhite fluttered quickly from the sparred wooden gallery which clung tothe grey walls of Thrieve, just outside the highest story. And theyoung man's heart told him that this was the atonement of MistressMaud Lindesay. Earl Douglas was in his gayest humour on this second day of the greattourneying. He had got rid of his most troublesome guests. His uncleJames of Avondale, his red cousin of Angus, the grave ill-assortedfigure of the Abbot of Dulce Cor, had all vanished. Only the young andchivalrous remained, --his cousins, William and James, Hugh andArchibald, good lances all and excellent fellows to boot. It was alsoa most noble chance that the French ambassador was confined by thequinsy, for it was certainly pleasant to ride out alone with thatbeauteous head glancing so near his shoulder, to watch at will the suncrimsoning yet more the red lips, sparkling in the eyes that werebright as sunshine slanting through green leaves on a water-break, andto mark as he fell a pace behind how every hair of that luxuriant coifrippled golden and separate, like a halo of Florentine work about thehead of a saint. The Lady Sybilla de Thouars was merry also, but with what a differentmirth to that of Mistress Maud Lindesay--at least so thought CaptainSholto MacKim, with a conscious glow of pride in his own Scottishsweetheart. True, Sholto was scarce a fair judge in that he loved one and did notlove the other. He owned to himself in a moment of unusual candourthat there might be something in that. But when the gay tones of thelady's laughter floated back on the air, as his master and she rodeforward by the edge of Dee towards the Lochar Fords, the first fearwith which he had looked upon her in the greenwood returned upon thecaptain of the guard. Earl William and the Lady Sybilla talked together that which no oneelse could hear. "So after all you have not become a churchman and gone off to dronemasses with the monks of your good uncle?" she said, looking up at himwith one of her lingering, drawing glances. "Nay, " Earl William answered; "surely one Douglas at the time is giftenough to holy church. At least, I can choose my own way in that, though in most things I am as straitly constrained as the Kinghimself. " "Speaking of the King, " she said, "my uncle the Marshal must perforceride to Edinburgh to deliver his credentials. Would it not be a mostmirthful jest to ride with equipage such as this to that mongrelpoverty-stricken Court, and let the poor little King and his starvedguardian see what true greatness and splendour mean?" "I have sworn never again to enter Edinburgh town, " said the Earl, slowly; "it was prophesied that there one of my race must meet ablack bull which shall trample the house of Douglas into ruins. " "Of course, if the Earl of Douglas is afraid--" mused the lady. Theyoung man started as if he had been stung. "Madame, " he said with a sudden chill hauteur, "you come from far anddo not know. No Douglas has ever been afraid throughout all theirgenerations. " The lady turned upon him with a sweet and moving smile. She held outher fair hand. "Pardon--nay, a thousand pardons. I knew not what I said. I am notacquainted with your Scottish speech nor yet with your Scottishcustoms. Do not be angry with me; I am a stranger, young, far from myown people and my own land. Think me foolish for speaking thus freelyif you like, but not wilfully unkind. " And when the Earl looked at her, there were tears glittering in herbeautiful eyes. "I _will_ go to Edinburgh, " he cried. "I am the Douglas. The Tutor andthe Chancellor are but as two straws in my hand, a longer and ashorter. I fling them from me--thus!" The Lady Sybilla clapped her hands joyously and turned towards theyoung man. "Will you indeed go with me?" she cried. "Will you truly? Icould kiss your hand, my Lord Douglas, you make me so glad. " "Your kiss will keep, " said the Earl, with a quiet passion quiveringin his voice. "Nay, I meant it not thus--not as you mean it. I knew not what I said. But it will indeed change all things for me if you do but come. Then Ishall have some one to speak with--some one with whom to laugh attheir pitiful Court mummery, their fiasco of dignity. You are not likethese other beggarly Scots, my Lord Duke of Touraine. " "They are brave men and loyal gentlemen, " said the generous youngEarl. "They would die for me. " "Nay, but so I declare would I, " gaily cried the lady, glancing at hishandsome head with a quick admiring regard. "So would I--if I were aman. Besides, there is so little worth living for in a country such asthis. " The Earl was silent and she proceeded. "But how joyous we shall be at Edinburgh! Know you that at the Courtof Charles that was my name--La Joyeuse they called me. We will keepsolemn countenances, you and I, while we enter the presence of theKing. We will bow. We will make obeisances. Then, when all is over, wewill laugh together at the fatted calf of a Tutor, the cunningChancellor with his quirks of law, and the poor schoolboy scarcebreeched whom they call King of Scotland. But all the while I shall bethinking of the true King of Scots--who alone shall ever be King tome--" At this point La Joyeuse broke off short, as if her feelings werehurrying her to say more than she had intended. "I did wrong to flout their messengers yesterday, " said WilliamDouglas, his boyish heart misgiving him at dispraise of others;"perhaps they meant me well. But I am naturally quick and easilyfretted, and the men annoyed me with their parchments royal, theirheralds-of-the-Lion, and the 'King of Scots' at every other word. " "Who is the youth who rides at the head of your company?" said theLady Sybilla. "His name is Sholto MacKim, and it was but yesterday that I made himcaptain of my guard, " answered the Earl. "I like him not, " said the Lady Sybilla; "he is full of ignorance andobstinacy and pride. Besides which, I am sure he loves me not. " "Save that last, I am not sure that a Douglas has a right to dislikehim for any such faults. Ignorance, obstinacy, and pride are, indeed, good old Galloway virtues of the ancientest descent, and not to bedespised in the captain of an archer guard. " "And pray, sir, what may be the ill qualities which, in CaptainSholto, make up for these excellent Scottish virtues?" asked the lady, disdainfully. "He is faithful--" began the Earl. "So is every dog!" interjected Sybilla de Thouars. The Earl laughed a little gay laugh. "There is one dog somewhere about the castle, licking an unhealedsword-thrust, that wishes our Sholto had been a trifle less faithful. " The Lady Sybilla sat silent in her saddle for a space; then, strikingabruptly into a new subject, she said, "Do you defend the liststo-day?" "Nay, " answered the Earl, "to-day it is my good fortune to sit by yourside and hold the truncheon while others meet in the shock. But theknight who this day gains the prize, to-morrow must choose a sideagainst me and fight a _męlée_. " "Ah, " cried the girl, "I would that my uncle were healed of hisquinsy. He loveth that sport. He says that he is too old to defendhis shield all day against every comer, but in the _męlée_ he is stillas good a lance as when he rode by the side of the Maid over thebridge of Orleans. " "That is well thought of, " cried the Earl; "he shall lead the Knightsof the Blue in my place. " "Nay, my Lord Duke, " cried the Lady Sybilla, "more than anything onearth I desire to see you bear arms on the field of honour. " "Oh, I am no great lance, " replied the Douglas, modestly; "I am yettoo young and light. As things go now, the butterfly cannot tiltagainst the beef barrel when both are trussed into armour. But withthe bare sword I will fight all day and be hungry for more. Aye, orrattle a merry rally with the quarter-staff like any common varlet. But at both Sholto there is my master, and doth ofttimes swinge metightly for my soul's good. " The lady went on quickly, as if avoiding any further mention ofSholto's name. "Nevertheless, to-morrow I must see you ride in the lists. My unclesays that your father was a mighty lance when he rode at Amboise, onthe famous day of the Thirteen Victories. " "Ah, but my father was twice the man that I am, " said the Earl, whohad not taken his eyes from her face since she began to speak. "Great alike in love and war?" she queried, smiling. "So, at least, it is reported of him in Touraine, " answered his son, smiling back at her. "He loved and rode away, like all your race!" cried the girl, with astrange sudden flicker of passion which died as suddenly. "But I thinkit not of you, Lord William. I know you could be true--that is, whereyou truly loved. " And as she spoke she looked at him with a questioning eagerness in hereyes which was almost pitiful. "I do love and I am loyal, " said the young man, with a grave quietwhich became him well, and ought to have served him better with awoman than many protestations. CHAPTER XX ANDRO THE PENMAN GIVES AN ACCOUNT OF HIS STEWARDSHIP In the fighting of that day James Douglas, the second son of the fatEarl of Avondale, won the prize, worsting his elder brother William inthe final encounter. The victor was a nobly formed youth, of strengthand stature greater than those of his brother, but without William ofAvondale's haughty spirit and stern self-discipline. For James Douglas had the easy popular virtues which would drink withany drawer or pricker at a tavern board, and made him ready to claphis last gold Lion on the platter to pay for the draught--telling, aslike as not, the good gossip of the inn to keep the change, and (ifwell favoured) give him a kiss therefor. The Douglas _cortčge_ rodehome amid the shoutings of the holiday makers who thronged all theapproaches to the ford in order to see the great nobles and theirtrains ride by, and Sholto and his men had much trouble to keep thesespectators as far back as was decent and seemly. The Earl summoned his victorious cousins, William and James, to ridewith him and the tourney's Queen of Beauty. But William proved evenmore silent than usual, and his dark face and upright carriage causedhim to sit his charger as if carved in iron. Jolly James, on the otherhand, attempted a jest or two which savoured rustically enough. Nevertheless, he received the compliments of the Lady Sybilla on hiscourage and address with the equanimity of a practised soldier. He wasalready, indeed, the best knight in Scotland, even as he was twelveyears after when in the lists of Stirling he fought with the famousMessire Lalain, the Burgundian champion. Earl William dropped behind to speak a moment with Sholto, and to givehim the orders which he was to convey to the provost of the games withregard to the encounter of the morrow. La Joyeuse took the opportunity of addressing her nearer and moresilent companion. "You are, I think, the head of the other Douglas House, " said the LadySybilla, glancing up at the stern and unbending Master of Avondale. "There is but one house of Douglas, and but one head thereof, " repliedLord William, with a certain severity, and without looking at her. Thelady had the grace to blush, either with shame or with annoyance atthe rebuff. "Pardon, " she said, "you must remember that I am a foreigner. I do notunderstand your genealogies. I thought that even in France I had heardof the Black Douglas and the Red. " "The Red and the Black alike are the liegemen of William of Douglas, whom Angus and Avondale both have the honour of serving, " answered he, still more uncompromisingly. "Aye, " cried the jovial James, "cousin Will is the only chief, andwill make a rare lance when he hath eaten a score or two more bolls ofmeal. " The Earl William returned even as James was speaking. "What is that I hear about bolls of meal?" he said; "what wots thisfair damosel of our rude Scots measures for oats and bear? You talklike the holder of a twenty-shilling land, James. " "I was saying, " answered James Douglas, "that you would be a properman of your lance when you had laid a score or two bolls of goodGalloway meal to your ribs. English beef and beer are excellent, anddrive a lance home into an unarmed foe; but it needs good Scots oatsat the back of the spear-haft to make the sparks fly when knight meetswith knight and iron rings on iron. " "Indeed, cousin Jamie, " said the Earl, "you have some right to yourporridge, for this day you have overturned well nigh a score of goodknights and come off unhurt and unashamed. Cousin William, how likedyou the whammel you got from James' lance in your final course?" "Not that ill, " said the silent Master; "I am indeed better at takingthan at giving. James is a stouter lance than I shall ever be--" "Not so, " cried jolly James. "Our Will never doth himself justice. Heis for ever reading Deyrolles and John Froissard in order to learn newways and tricks of fence, which he practises on the tilting ground, instead of riding with a tight knee and the weight of his body behindthe shaft of ash. That is what drives the tree home, and so he getsmany a coup. Yet to fall, and to be up and at it again, is by far thetruer courage. " The Lady Sybilla laughed, as it seemed, heartily, yet with some littlebitterness in the sound of it. "I declare you Douglases stick together like crabs in a basket. Cousins in France do not often love each other so well. You arefortunate in your relations, my Lord Duke. " "Indeed, and that I am, " cried the young man, joyously. "Here be mycousins, William and James--Will ever ready to read me out of wisebooks and advise me better than any clerk, Jamie aching to drive lancethrough any man's midriff in my quarrel. " "Lord, I would that I had the chance!" cried James. "Saint Bride! butI would make a hole clean through him and out at the back, though myelbuck should dinnle for a week after. " So talking together, but with the lady riding more silent and somewhatconstrainedly in their midst, the three cousins of Douglas passed thedrawbridge and came again to the precincts of the noble towers ofThrieve. * * * * * In an hour Sholto followed them, having ridden fast and furious acrossthe long broomy braes of Boreland, and wet the fringes of hischarger's silken coverture by vaingloriously swimming the Dee at thecastle pool instead of going round by the fords. This he did in thehope that Maud Lindesay might see him. And so she did; for as he cameround by the outside of the moat, making his horse caracole andthinking no little of himself, he heard a voice from an upper windowcall out: "Sholto MacKim, Maudie says that you look like a draggledcrow. No, I will not be silent. " Then the words were shut off as if a hand had been set over the mouthwhich spoke. But presently the voice out of the unseen came again:"And I hate you, Sholto MacKim. For we have had to keep in our chamberthis livelong day, because of the two men you have placed over us, asif we had been prisoners in Black Archibald. [1] This very day I amgoing to ask my brother to hang Black Andro and John his brother onthe dule tree of Carlinwark. " [Footnote 1: The pet name of the deepest dungeon of Castle Thrieve, yet extant and plain to be seen by all. ] "Yes, indeed, and most properly, " cried another voice, which made hisvery heart flutter, "and set his new captain of the guard a-dangle inthe midst, decked out from head to foot in peacocks' feathers. " Sholto was very angry, for like a boy he took not chaffing lightly, and had neither the harshness of hide which can endure the rasping ofa woman's tongue, nor the quickness of speech to give her the counterretort. So he cast the reins of his horse to a stable varlet and stampedindoors, carrying his master's helmet to the armoury. Then stillwithout speech to any he brushed hastily up the stairs towards theupper floor, which he had set Andro the Penman and his brother toguard. At the turning of the staircase David Douglas, the Earl's brother, stopped him. Sholto moved in salute and would have passed by. But David detained him with an impetuous hand. "What is this?" he said; "you have set two archers on the stairs whohave shot and almost killed the ambassador's two servants, Poitou theman-at-arms, and Henriet the clerk, just because they wished to takethe air upon the roof. Nay, even when I would have visited my sister, I was not permitted--'None passes here save the Earl himself, tillour captain takes his orders off us!' That was the word they spoke. Was ever the like done in the castle of Thrieve to a Master of Douglasbefore?" "I am sorry, my Lord David, " said Sholto, respectfully, "but therewere matters within the knowledge of the Earl which caused him to laythis heavy charge upon me. " "Well, " said the lad, quickly relenting, "let us go and see Margaretnow. She must have been lonely all this fair day of summer. " But Sholto smiled, well pleased, thinking of Maud Lindesay. "I would that I had a lifetime of such loneliness as Margaret's hathbeen this day, " he said to himself. At the turning of the stair they were stayed, for there, his footadvanced, his bow ready to deliver its steel bolt at the clicking of atrigger, stood Andro the Swarthy. From his stance he commanded the stair and could see along thecorridor as well. David Douglas caught his elbow on something which stood a few inchesout of the oaken panelling of the turnpike wall. He tried to pull itout. It was the steel quarrel of a cross-bow wedged firmly into thewood and masonry. He cried: "Whence came this? Have you been murderingany other honest men?" The archer stood silent, glancing this way and that like a sentinel onduty. The two young men went on up the stair. As their feet were approaching the sixth step, a sudden word came fromthe Penman like a bolt from his bow. "Halt!" he cried, and they heard the _gur-r-r-r_ of his steel ratchet. Sholto smiled, for he knew the nature of the man. "It is I, your captain, " he said. "You have done your duty well, Androthe Penman. Now get down to your dinner. But first give an account ofyour adventures. " "Do you relieve us from our charge?" said the archer, with his bowstill at the ready. "Certainly, " quoth Sholto. "Come, Jock, we are eased, " cried Andro the Swarthy up the stair, andhe slid the steel bolt out of its grip with a little click; "faith, mybelly is toom as a last year's beef barrel. " "Did any come hither to vex you?" asked Sholto. "Not to speak of, " said the archer; "there were, indeed, two varletsof the Frenchmen, and as they would not take a bidding to stand, I hadperforce to send a quarrel buzzing past their lugs into the wall. Youcan see it there behind you. " "Rascal, " cried David Douglas, indignantly, "you do not say that firstof all you shot it through the arm of the poor clerk Henriet. " "It is like enough, " said Andro, coolly, "if his arm were in the way. " Then came a voice down the stairs from above. "And the wretches would neither let any come to visit us nor yetpermit us to go into the hall that we might speak with our gossips. " "How should we be responsible with our lives for the lasses if we hadlet them gad about?" said Andro, preparing to salute and take himselfoff. At this moment the little maid and her elder companion came forwardmeekly and kneeled down before Sholto. "We are your humble prisoners, " said Maud Lindesay, "and we know thatour offences against your highness are most heinous; but why shouldyou starve us to death? Burn us or hang us, --we will bear the extremepenalty of the law gladly, --but torture is not for women. For dearpity's sake, a bite of bread. We have had nothing to eat all day, except two lace kerchiefs and a neck riband. " "Lord of Heaven, " cried Sholto, swinging on his heel and darting downtowards the kitchen, "what a fool unutterable I am!" CHAPTER XXI THE BAILIES OF DUMFRIES The combat of the third day was, by the will of the Earl, to be of apeculiar kind. It was the custom at that time for the _męlée_ to befought between an equal number of knights in open lists, each being atliberty to carry assistance to his friends as soon as he had disposedof his own man. On this occasion, however, the fight was to be betweenthree knights with their several squires on the one side, and an equalnumber of knights and squires on the other. As the combat of the previous day had decided, young James Douglas ofAvondale was to lead one party, being the successful tilter of the dayof single combat, while the Earl himself was to head the other. The chances of battle must be borne, and whatever happened in theshock of fight was to be endured without complaint. But no blow was tobe struck at either knight or squire in any way disabled by wound. To Sholto's great and manifest joy the Earl, his master, chose the newcaptain of his guard to support him in the fray, and told him to makechoice of the best battle-axe and sword he could find, as well as toprovide himself with the shield which most suited the strength of hisleft arm. "By your permission I will ask my father, " said Sholto. "He also fights on our side as the squire of Alan Fleming, " said theEarl; "if Laurence had not been a monk, he might have made a thirdMacKim. " Then was Sholto's heart high and uplifted within him, to think of thevictory he would achieve over his brother less than two days afterthey had parted, and he hastened off to choose his arms under thedirection of his father. The party of James of Avondale consisted of his brother William andyoung John Lauder, called Lauder of the Bass. These three had alreadyentered their pavilion to accoutre themselves for the combat when atrumpet announced the arrival from the castle of the ambassador ofFrance, who, being recovered from his sickness, had come in haste tosee the fighting of the last and greatest day of the tourney. As soon as he heard the wager of battle the marshal cried: "I alsowill strike a blow this day for the honour of France. My quinsy hasaltogether left me, and my blood flows strong after the rest. I willtake part with James of Avondale. " And, without waiting to be asked, he went off followed by his servantPoitou towards the pavilion of the Avondale trio. Now as the Marshal de Retz was the chief guest, it was impossible forJames of Avondale to refuse his offer. But there was anger andblasphemy in his heart, for he knew not what the Frenchman could do, and though he had undoubtedly been a gallant knight in his day, yet inthese matters (as James Douglas whispered to his brother) a week'ssteady practice is worth a lifetime of theory. Still there was nothingfor the brothers from Douglasdale but to make the best of theirbargain. The person most deserving of pity, however, was the younglaird of the Bass, who, being thus dispossessed, went out to the backof the lists and actually shed tears, being little more than a boy, and none looking on to see him. Then he came back hastily, and besought James of Douglas to let himfight as his squire, saying that as he had never taken up theknighthood which had been bestowed on him by the Earl for his journeyto France, there could be nothing irregular in his fighting once moreas a simple esquire. And thus, after an appeal to the Earl himself, itwas arranged, much to John Lauder's content. For his third knight the Douglas had made choice of his cousin Hugh, younger brother of his two opponents, and at that William and James ofAvondale shook their heads. "He pushes a good tree, our Hughie, " said James. "If he comes at you, Will, mind that trick of swerving that he hath. Aim at his rightgauntlet, and you will hit his shield. " The conflict on the Boat Croft differed much from the chivalrousencounters of an earlier time and a richer country. And of this moreanon. It chanced that on the borders of the crowd which that day begirt thegreat enclosure of the lists two burgesses of Dumfries stood ontiptoe, --to wit, Robert Semple, merchant dealing in cloth and wool, and Ninian Halliburton, the brother of Barbara, wife of Malise MacKim, master armourer, whose trade was only conditioned by the amount ofcapital he could find to lay out and the probability he had ofdisposing of his purchase within a reasonable time. It would give an entirely erroneous impression of the state ofScotland in 1440 if the sayings and doings of the wise and shrewdburghers of the towns of Scotland were left wholly without achronicler. The burghs of Scotland were at once the cradles andstrongholds of liberty. They were not subject to the great nobles. They looked with jealousy on all encroachments on their liberties, andhad sharp swords wherewith to enforce their objection. They had beenendowed with privileges by the wise and politic kings of Scotland, from William the Lion down to James the First, of late worthy memory. For they were the best bulwark of the central authority against thepower of the great nobles of the provinces. Now Robert Semple and Ninian Halliburton were two worthy citizens ofDumfries, men of respectability, well provided for by the success oftheir trade and the saving nature of their wives. They had comewestward to the Thrieve for two purposes: to deliver a largeconsignment of goods and gear, foreign provisions and fruits, to thecontroller of the Earl's household, and to receive payment therefor, partly in money and partly in the wool and cattle; hides and tallow, which have been the staple products of Galloway throughout hergenerations. Their further purposes and intents in venturing so far west of thesafe precincts of their burgh of Dumfries may be gathered from theirconversation hereinafter to be reported. Ninian Halliburton was a rosy-faced, clean-shaven man, with a habit ofconstantly pursing out his lips and half closing his eyes, as if hewere sagely deciding on the advisability of some doubtful bargain. Hiscompanion, Robert Semple, had a similar look of shrewdness, but addedto it his face bore also the imprint of a sly and lurking humour notunlike that of the master armourer himself. In time bygone he had kepthis terms at the college of Saint Andrews, where you may find on thelist of graduates the name of Robertus Semple, written by thefoundational hand of Bishop Henry Wardlaw himself. And upon his body, as the Bailie of Dumfries would often feelingly recall, he bore thememory, if not the marks, of the disciplining of Henry Ogilvy, Masterin Arts--a wholesome custom, too much neglected by the present regentsof the college, as he would add. "This is an excellent affair for us, " said Ninian Halliburton, standing with his hands folded placidly over his ample stomach, onlyoccasionally allowing them to wander in order to feel and approve thepile of the brown velvet out of which the sober gown was constructed. "A good thing for us, I say, that there are great lords like the Earlof Douglas to keep up the expense of such days as this. " "It were still better, " answered his companion, dryly, "if the greatnobles would pay poor merchants according to their promises, insteadof threatening them with the dule tree if they so much as venture toask for their money. Neither you nor I, Bailie, can buy in thelowlands of Holland without a goodly provision of the broad goldpieces that are so hard to drag from the nobles of Scotland. " The rosy-gilled Bailie of Dumfries looked up at his friend with aquick expression of mingled hope and anxiety. "Does the Earl o' Douglas owe you ony siller?" he asked in a hushedwhisper, "for if he does, I am willing to take over the debt--for aconsideration. " "Nay, " said Semple, "I only wish he did. The Douglases of the Blackwere never ill debtors. They keep their hand in every man's meal ark, but as they are easy in taking, they are also quick in paying. " "Siller in hand is the greatest virtue of a buyer, " said the Bailie, with unction. "But, Robert Semple, though I was willing to oblige yeas a friend by taking over your debt, I'll no deny that ye gied me africht. For hae I no this day delivered to the bursar o' the castle o'Thrieve sax bales o' pepper and three o' the best spice, besides muchcumin, alum, ginger, seat-well, almonds, rice, figs, raisins, andother sic thing. Moreover, there is owing to me, for wine and vinegar, mair than twa hunder pound. Was that no enough to gar me tak a 'dwam'when ye spoke o' the great nobles no payin'!" "I would that all our outlying monies were as safe, " said Semple; "buthere come the knights and squires forth from their tents. Tell me, Ninian, which o' the lads are your sister's sons. " "There is but one o' the esquires that is Barbara Halliburton's son, "answered the Bailie; "the ither is her ain man--and a great ram-stam, unbiddable, unhallowed deevil he is--Guid forbid that I should say asmuckle to his face!" CHAPTER XXII WAGER OF BATTLE The knights had moved slowly out from their pavilions on either side, and now stood waiting the order to charge. My Lord Maxwell sat by theside of the Lady Sybilla, and held the truncheon, the casting down ofwhich was to part the combatants and end the fight. The three knightson the southern or Earl's side were a singular contrast to theiropponents. Two of them, the Earl William and his cousin Hugh, were nomore than boys in years, though already old in military exercises; thethird, Alan Fleming of Cumbernauld, was a strong horseman andexcellent with his lance, though also slender of body and moredistinguished for dexterity than for power of arm. Yet he was destinedto lay a good lance in rest that day, and to come forth unshamed. The Avondale party were to the eye infinitely the stronger, that iswhen knights only were considered. For James Douglas was little lessthan a giant. His jolly person and frank manners seemed to fill allthe field with good humour, and from his station he cried challengesto his cousin the Earl and defiances to his brother Hugh, with thatbroad rollicking wit which endeared him to the commons, to whom"Mickle Lord Jamie" had long been a popular hero. "Bid our Hugh there rin hame for his hippen clouts lest he make ofhimself a shame, " he cried; "'tis not fair that we should have tofight with babes. " "Mayhap he will be as David to your Goliath, thou great gomeril!"replied the Earl with equal good humour, seeing his cousin Hugh blushand fumble uncomfortably at his arms. Then to the lad himself he said: "Keep a light hand on your rein, agood grip at the knee, and after the first shock we will ride roundthem like swallows about so many bullocks. " The other two Avondale knights, William Douglas and the Marshal deRetz, were also large men, and the latter especially, clothed in blackarmour and with the royal ermines of Brittany quartered on his shield, looked a stern and commanding figure. The squires were well matched. These fought on foot, armed accordingto custom with sword, axe, and dagger--though Sholto would much havepreferred to trust to his arrow skill even against the plate of theknights. The trumpets blew their warning from the judge's gallery. The sixopposing knights laid their lances in rest. The squires leaned alittle forward as if about to run a race. Lord Maxwell raised histruncheon. The trumpets sounded again, and as their stirring_taran-tara_ rang down the wide strath of Dee, the riders spurredtheir horses into full career. It so chanced that, as they had stood, James of Avondale was opposite the Earl, each being in the midst aswas their right as leaders. The Master of Avondale opposed his brotherHugh, and the Marshal de Retz couched spear against young AlanFleming. In this order they started to ride their course. But at thelast moment, instead of riding straight for his man, the Frenchmanswerved to the left, and, raising his lance high in the air, he threwit in the manner of his country straight at the visor bars of theyoung Earl of Douglas. The spear of James of Avondale at the same timetaking him fair in the middle of his shield, the double assault causedthe young man to fall heavily from his saddle, so that the crashsounded dully over the field. "Treachery! Treachery!--A foul false stroke! A knave's device!" criednine-tenths of those who were crowded about the barriers. "Stop thefight! Kill the Frenchman!" "Not so, " cried Lord Maxwell, "they were to fight as best they could, and they must fight it to the end!" And this being a decision not to be gainsaid, the combat proceeded onvery unequal terms. Sholto, who had been eagerly on the stretch tomatch himself with the squire of James of Avondale, the young knightof the Bass, found himself suddenly astride of his lord's body anddefending himself against both the French ambassador and his squirePoitou, who had simultaneously crossed over to the attack. For theMarshal de Retz, if not in complete defiance of the written rule ofchivalry, at least against the spirit of gallantry and the rules ofthe present tourney, would have thrust the Earl through with his spearas he lay, crying at the same time, "Ŕ outrance! Ŕ outrance!" toexcuse the foulness of his deed. It was lucky for himself that he did not succeed, for, undoubtedly, the Douglases then on the field would have torn him to pieces for whatthey not unnaturally considered his treachery. As it was, theresounded a mighty roar of anger all about the barriers, and the crowdpressed so fiercely and threateningly that it was as much as thearchers could do to keep them within reasonable bounds. "Saints' mercy!" puffed stout Ninian Halliburton, "let us get out ofthis place. I am near bursen. Haud off there, varlet, ken ye not thatI am a Bailie of Dumfries? Keep your feet off the tail o' my brownvelvet gown. It cost nigh upon twenty silver shillings an ell!" "A Douglas! A Douglas! Treachery! Treachery!" yelled a wild Minnigaffman, thrusting a naked brand high into the air within an inch of theburgess's nose. That worthy citizen almost fell backwards in dismay, and indeed must have done so but for the pressure of the crowd behindhim. He was, therefore, much against his will compelled to keep hisplace in the front rank of the spectators. "Well done, young lad, " cried the crowd, seeing Sholto ward and strikeat Poitou and his master, "God, but he is fechtin' like the black deilhimself!" "It will be as chancy for him, " cried the wild Minnigaff hillman, "forI will tear the harrigals oot o' Sholto MacKim if onything happen tothe Earl!" But the captain of the guard, light as a feather, had easily avoidedthe thrust of the marshal's spear, taking it at an angle and turningit aside with his shield. Then, springing up behind him, he pulled theFrench knight down to the ground with the hook of his axe, by thattrick of attack which was the lesson taught once for all to the Scotsof the Lowlands upon the stricken field of the Red Harlaw. The marshal fell heavily and lay still, for he was a man of feeblebody, and the weight of his armour very great. "Slay him! Slay him!" yelled the people, still furious at what, notwithout reason, they considered rank treachery. Sholto recovered himself, and reached his master only in time to findPoitou bending over Earl Douglas with a dagger in his hand. With a wild yell he lashed out at the Breton squire, and Sholto's axestriking fair on his steel cap, Poitou fell senseless across the bodyof Douglas. "Well done, Sholto MacKim--well done, lad!" came from all the barrier, and even Ninian Halliburton cried: "Ye shall hae a silken doublet forthat!" Then, recollecting himself, he added, "At little mair than costprice!" "God in heeven, 'tis bonny fechtin!" cried the man from Minnigaff. "Oh, if I could dirk the fause hound I wad dee happy!" And the hillman danced on the toes of the Bailie of Dumfries and shookthe barriers with his hand till he received a rap over the knucklesfrom the handle of a partisan directed by the stout arms of Andro thePenman. "Haud back there, heather-besom!" cried the archer, "gin ye want everagain to taste 'braxy'!" Over the rest of the field the fortune of war had been somewhatvarious. William of Douglas had unhorsed his brother Hugh at the firstshock, but immediately foregoing his advantage with the mostchivalrous courtesy, he leaped from his own horse and drew his sword. On the right Alan Fleming, being by the marshal's action suddenlydeprived of his opponent, had wheeled his charger and borne downsideways upon James of Douglas, and that doughty champion, not havingfully recovered from the shock of his encounter with the Earl, andbeing taken from an unexpected quarter, went down as much to his ownsurprise as to that of the people at the barriers, who had looked uponhim as the strongest champion on the field. It was evident, therefore, that, in spite of the loss of their leader, the Earl's party stood every chance to win the field. For not only wasAlan Fleming the only knight left on horseback, but Malise MacKim haddisposed of the laird of Stra'ven, squire to William of Avondale, having by one mighty axe stroke beaten the Lanarkshire man down to hisknees. "A Douglas! A Douglas!" shouted the populace; "now let them have it!" And the adherents of the Earl were proceeding to carry out thisintent, when my Lord Maxwell unexpectedly put an end to the combat bythrowing down his truncheon and proclaiming a drawn battle. "False loon!" cried Sholto, shaking his axe at him in the extremity ofhis anger, "we have beaten them fairly. Would that I could get atthee! Come down and fight an encounter to the end. I will take anyMaxwell here in my shirt!" "Hold your tongue!" commanded his father, briefly, "what else can yeexpect of a border man but broken faith?" The archers of the guard rushed in, as was their duty, and separatedthe remaining combatants. Hugh and his brother William fought it tothe last, the younger with all his vigour and with a fierce energyborn of his brother James's taunts, William with the calm courtesy andforbearance of an old and assured knight towards one who has yet hisspurs to win. The stunned knights and squires were conveyed to their severalpavilions, where the Earl's apothecaries were at once in attendance. William of Douglas was the first to revive, which he did almost assoon as the laces of his helm had been undone and water dashed uponhis face. His head still sang, he declared, like a hive of bees, butthat was all. He bent with the anxiety of a generous enemy over the unconscious formof the Marshal de Retz, from whom they were stripping his armour. Atthe removal of the helmet, the strange parchment face with itsblue-black stubbly beard was seen to be more than usually pale anddrawn. The upper lip was retracted, and a set of long white teethgleamed like those of a wild beast. The apothecary was just commencing to strip off the leathernunder-doublet from the ambassador's body to search for a wound, whenPoitou, his squire, happened to open his eyes. He had been laid uponthe floor, as the most seriously wounded of the combatants, thoughbeing the least in honour he fell to be attended last. Instantly he cried out a strange Breton word, unintelligible to allpresent, and, leaping from the floor, he flung himself across the bodyof his master, dashing aside the astonished apothecary, who had onlytime to discern on the marshal's shoulder the scar of a recentcautery before Poitou had restored the leathern under-doublet to itsplace. "Hands off! Do not touch my master. I alone can bring him to. Leavethe room, all of you. " "Sirrah!" cried the Earl, sternly, striding towards him, "I will teachyou to speak humbly to more honourable men. " "My lord, " cried Poitou, instantly recalled to himself, "believe me, Imeant no ill. But true it is that I only can recover him. I have oftenseen him taken thus. But I must be left alone. My master hath ablemish upon him, and one great gentleman does not humiliate anotherin the presence of underlings. My Lord Douglas, as you love honour, bid all to leave me alone for a brief space. " "Much cared he for honour, when he threw the lance at my master!"growled Sholto. "Had I known, I would have driven my bill-point sixinches lower, and then would there have been a most satisfactoryblemish in the joining of his neck-bone. " CHAPTER XXIII SHOLTO WINS KNIGHTHOOD The ambassador recovered quickly after he had been left with hisservant Poitou, according to the latter's request. The Lady Sybillamanifested the most tender concern in the matter of the accident ofjudgment which had been the means of diverting her kinsman from hisown opponent and bringing him into collision with the Earl Douglas. "Often have I striven with my lord that he should ride no more in thelists, " she said, "for since he received the lance-thrust in the eyeby the side of La Pucelle before the walls of Orleans, he sees no morearight, but bears ever in the direction of the eye which sees and awayfrom that wherein he had his wound. " "Indeed, I knew not that the Marshal de Retz had been wounded in theeye, or I should not have permitted him to ride in the tourney, "returned the Earl, gravely. "The fault was mine alone. " The Lady Sybilla smiled upon him very sweetly and graciously. "You are great soldiers--you Douglases. Six knights are chosen fromthe muster of half a kingdom to ride a _męlée_. Four are Douglases, and, moreover, cousins germain in blood. " "Indeed, we might well have compassed the sword-play, " said the EarlWilliam, "for in our twenty generations we never learned aught else. Our arms are strong enough and our skulls thick enough, for even mineuncle, the Abbot, hath his Latin by the ear. And one Semple, a plainburgher of Dumfries, did best him at it--or at least would have shamedhim, but that he desired not to lose the custom of the Abbey. " "When you come to France, " replied the girl, smiling on him, "it willindeed be stirring to see you ride a bout with young Messire Lalain, the champion of Burgundy, or with that Miriadet of Dijon, whose arm islike that of a giant and can fell an ox at a blow. " "Truly, " said the young Earl, modestly, "you do me overmuch honour. Mycousin James there, he is the champion among us, and alone couldeasily have over-borne me to-day, without the aid of your uncle'sblind eye. Even William of Avondale is a better lance than I, andyoung Hugh will be when his time comes. " "Your squire fought a good fight, " she went on, "though hiscountenance does not commend itself to me, being full of allself-sufficience. " "Sholto--yes; he is his father's son and fought well. He is a MacKim, and cannot do otherwise. He will make a good knight, and, by SaintBride, I will dub him one, ere this sun set, for his valiant laying onof the axe this day. " The great muster was now over. The tents which had been dotted thicklyathwart the castle island were already mostly struck, and the groundwas littered with miscellaneous débris, soon to be carried off intrail carts with square wooden bodies set on boughs of trees, andflung into the river, by the Earl's varlets and stablemen. The multitudinous liegemen of the Douglas were by this time streaminghomewards along every mountain pass. Over the heather and through theabounding morasses horse and foot took their way, no longer marchingin military order, as when they came, but each lance taking the routewhich appeared the shortest to himself. North, east, and westspear-heads glinted and armour flashed against the brown of theheather and the green of the little vales, wherein the horses benttheir heads to pull at the meadow hay as their riders sought thenearest way back again to their peel-towers and forty-shilling lands. It was at the great gate of Thrieve that the Earl called aloud forSholto. He had been speaking to his cousin William, a strong, silentman, whose repute was highest for good counsel among all the branchesof the house of Douglas. Sholto came forward from the head of his archer guard with a hastewhich betrayed his anxiety lest in some manner he had exceeded hisduty. The Earl bade him kneel down. A little behind, the youngDouglases of Avondale, William, James, and Hugh, sat their horses, while the boy David, who had been left at home to keep the castle, looked forth disconsolately from the window of the great hall. On thesteps stood the little Maid Margaret and her companion, Maud Lindesay, who had come down to meet the returning train of riders. And, truth totell, that was what Sholto cared most about. He did not wish to bedisgraced before them all. So as he knelt with an anxious countenance before his lord, the Earltook his cousin William's sword out of his hand, and, laying it on theshoulder of Sholto MacKim, he said, "Great occasions bring forth goodmen, and even one battle tries the temper of the sword. You, Sholto, have been quickly tried, but thy father hath been long tempering you. Three days agone you were but one of the archer guard, yesterday youwere made its captain, to-day I dub you knight for the strong courageof the heart that is within, and the valiant service which this dayyou did your lord. Rise, Sir Sholto!" But for all that he rose not immediately, for the head of the youngman whirled, and little drumming pulses beat in his temples. His heartcried within him like the overword of a song, "Does she hear? Will shecare? Will this bring me nearer to her?" So that, in spite of hislord's command, he continued to kneel, till lusty James of Avondalecame and caught him by the elbow. "Up, Sir Knight, and give grace andgood thank to your lord. Not your head but mine hath a right to bemuzzy with the coup I gat this day on the green meadow of the BoatCroft. " And practical William of Avondale whispered in his cousin's ear, "Andthe lands for the youth that we spoke of. " "Moreover, " said the Earl, "that you may suitably support theknighthood which your sword has won, I freely bestow on you theforty-shilling lands of Aireland and Lincolns with Screel and BenGairn, on condition that you and yours shall keep the watch-fires laidready for the lighting, and that in time you rear you sturdy yeomen tobear in the Douglas train the banneret of MacKim of Aireland. " Sholto stood before his generous lord trembling and speechless, whileJames Douglas shook him by the elbow and encouraged him roughly, "Saythy say, man; hast lost thy tongue?" But William Douglas nodded approval of the youth. "Nay, " he said, "let alone, James! I like the lad the better that hehath no ready tongue. 'Tis not the praters that fight as this youthhath fought this day!" So all that Sholto found himself able to do, was no more than to kneelon one knee and kiss his master's hand. "I am too young, " he muttered. "I am not worthy. " "Nay, " said his master, "but you have fairly won your spurs. They mademe a knight when I was but two years of my age, and I cried all thetime for my nurse, your good mother, who, when she came, comforted mewith pap. Surely it was right that I should make a place for myfoster-brother within the goodly circle of the Douglas knights. " [Illustration: "I AM TOO YOUNG, " HE MUTTERED; "I AM NOT WORTHY. "] CHAPTER XXIV THE SECOND FLOUTING OF MAUD LINDESAY Sholto MacKim stood on the lowest step of the ascent into the noblegateway of Thrieve, hardly able to believe in his own good fortune. But these were the days when no man awaked without having thepossibility of either a knighthood or the gallows tree to encouragehim to do his duty between dawn and dark. The lords of Douglas had gone within, and were now drinking the Cup ofAppetite as their armour was being unbraced by the servitors, and thechafed limbs rubbed with oil and vinegar after the toils of thetourney. But still Sholto stood where his master had left him, lookingat the green scum of duckweed which floated on the surface of the moatof Thrieve, yet of a truth seeing nothing whatever, till a low voicepierced the abstraction of his reverie. "Sir Sholto!" said Mistress Maud Lindesay, "I bid you a long good-by, Sir Sholto MacKim! Say farewell to him, Margaret, as you hear me do!" "Good-by, kind Sir Sholto!" piped the childish voice of the Maid ofGalloway, as she made a little courtesy to Sholto MacKim in imitationof her companion. "I know not where you are going, but Maudie bids me, so I will!" "And wherefore say you good-by to me?" cried Sholto, finding his wordsat once in the wholesome atmosphere of raillery which everywhereaccompanied that quipsome damosel, Mistress Maud Lindesay. "Why, because we are humble folk, and must get our ways upstairs outof the way of dignities. Permit me to kiss your glove, fair lord!" andhere she tripped down the steps and pretended to take his hand. "Hold off!" he cried, snatching it away angrily, for her tone vexedand thwarted him. The girl affected a great terror, which merged immediately into a meekaffectation of resignation. "No--you are right--we are not worthy even to kiss your knightlyhand, " she said, "but we will respectfully greet you. " Here she swepthim a full reverence, and ran up the steps again before he could takehold of her. Then, standing on the topmost step, and holding herfriend's hand in hers, she spoke to the Maid of Galloway in a tonehushed and regretful, as one speaks of the dead. "No, Margaret, " she said, "he will no more play with us. Hide-and-seekabout the stack-yard ricks at the Mains is over in the gloamings. SirSholto cares no more for us. He has put away childish things. He willnot even blow out a lamp for us with his own honourable lips. No, hewill call his squire to do it!" Sholto looked the indignation he would not trust himself to speak. "He will dine with the Earl in hall, and quaff and stamp and shoutwith the best when they drink the toasts. But he has become too greata man to carry you and me any more over the stepping-stones at theford, or pull with us the ripe berries when the briars are droopingpurple on the braes of Keltonhill. Bid him good-by, Margaret, for hewas our kind friend once. And when he rides out to battle, perhaps, ifwe are good and respectful, he may again wave us a hand and say:'There are two lassies that once I kenned!'" At this inordinate flouting the patience of the new knight, growingmore and more angry at each word, came quickly to the breaking point;for his nerves were jarred and jangled by the excitement of the day. He gave vent to a short sharp cry, and started up the steps with theintention of making Mistress Lindesay pay in some fashion for herimpertinence. But that active and gamesome maid was most entirely onthe alert. Indeed, she had been counting from the first upon provokingsuch a movement. And so, with her nimble charge at her heels, MistressLindesay was already at the inner port, and through the iron-barredgate of the turret stair, before the youthful captain of the guard, still cumbered with his armour, could reach the top of the outersteps. As soon as Sholto saw that he was hopelessly distanced, he slackenedhis gait, and, with a sober tread befitting a knight and officer of agarrison, he walked along the passage which led to the chamberallotted to the captain of the guard, from which that day LandlessJock had removed his effects. The soldiers of the guard, who had heard of the honours which had soswiftly come upon the young man, rose and respectfully saluted theirchief. And Sholto, though he had been silent when the sharp tongue ofthe mirth-loving maid tormented him, found speech readily enough now. "I thank you, " he said, acknowledging their salutations. "We haveknown each other before. Fortune and misfortune come to all, and itwill be your turns one day. But up or down, good or ill, we shall notbe the worse comrades for having kept the guard and sped the bolttogether. " Then there came one behind him who stood at the door of his chamber, as he was unhelming himself, and said: "My captain, there stand at theturret stair the ladies Margaret and Maud with a message for you. " "A message for me--what is it?" said Sholto, testily, being (and smallblame to him) a trifle ruffled in his temper. "Nay, sir, " said the man, respectfully, "that I know not, but methinksit comes from my lord. " It will not do to say to what our gallant Sholto condemned alltricksome queans and spiteful damosels in whose eyes dwelt mischiefbrimming over, and whose tongues spoke softest words that yet stungand rankled like fairy arrows dipped in gall and wormwood. But since the man stood there and repeated, "I judge the message to beone from my lord, " Sholto could do no less than hastily pull on hisdoublet and again betake himself along the corridor to the foot of thestair. When he arrived there he saw no one, and was about to depart again ashe had come, when the head of Maud Lindesay appeared round the upperspiral looking more distractedly mischievous and bewitching than ever, her head all rippling over with dark curls and her eyes fairlyscintillating light. She nodded to him and leaned a little fartherover, holding tightly to the baluster meanwhile. "Well, " said Sholto, roughly, "what are my lord's commands for me, if, indeed, he has charged you with any?" "He bids me say, " replied Mistress Maud Lindesay, "that, since lampsare dangerous things in maidens' chambers, he desires you to assist inthe trimming of the waxen tapers to-night--that is, if so menial aservice shame not your knighthood. " "Pshaw!" muttered Sholto, "my lord said naught of the sort. " "Well then, " said Maud Lindesay, smiling down upon him with anexpression innocent and sweet as that of an angel on a paintedceiling, "you will be kind and come and help us all the same?" "That I will not!" said Sholto, stamping his foot like an ill-temperedboy. "Yes, you will--because Margaret asks you?" _"I will not!"_ "Then because _I_ ask you?" Spite of his best endeavours, Sholto could not take his eyes from thegirl's face, which seemed fairer and more desirable to him now thanever. A quick sob of passion shook him, and he found words at last: "Oh, Maud Lindesay, why do you treat thus one who loves you with allhis heart?" The girl's face changed. The mischief died out of it, and somethingvague and soft welled up in her eyes, making them mistily grey andlustrous. But she only said: "Sholto, it is growing dark already! Itis time the tapers were trimmed!" Then Sholto followed her up the stairs, and though I do not know, there is some reason for thinking that he forgave her all herwickedness in the sweet interspace between the gloaming and the mirk, when the lamps were being lighted on earth, and in heaven the starswere coming out. CHAPTER XXV THE DOGS AND THE WOLF HOLD COUNCIL It was a week or two after the date of the great wappenshaw andtourneying at the Castle of Thrieve, that in the midmost golden hazeof a summer's afternoon four men sat talking together about a table ina room of the royal palace of Stirling. No one of the four was any longer young, and one at least wasimmoderately fat. This was James, Earl of Avondale, granduncle of thepresent Earl of Douglas, and, save for young David, the Earl'sbrother, nearest heir to the title and all the estates and honourspertaining thereto, with the single exception of the Lordship ofGalloway. The other three were, first, Sir Alexander Livingston, the guardian ofthe King's person, a handsome man with a curled beard, who wassupposed to stand high in the immediate favours of the Queen, and whohad long been tutor to his Majesty as well as guardian of his royalperson. Opposite to Livingston, and carefully avoiding his eye, sat aman of thin and foxy aspect, whose smooth face, small shifty mouth, and perilous triangular eyes marked him as one infinitely moredangerous than either of the former--Sir William Crichton, theChancellor of the realm of Scotland. The fourth was speaking, and his aspect, strange and ofttimesterrifying, is already familiar to us. But the pallid corpse-likeface, the blue-black beard, the wild-beast look, in the eyes of theMarshal de Retz, ambassador of the King of France, were now more thanever heightened in effect by the studied suavity of his demeanour andthe graciousness of language with which he was clothing what he had tosay. "I have brought you together after taking counsel with my good Lord ofAvondale. I am aware, most noble seigneurs, that there have beendifferences between you in the past as to the conduct of the affairsof this great kingdom; but I am obeying both the known wishes and theexpress commands of my own King in endeavouring to bring you to anagreement. You will not forget that the Dauphin of France is wedded tothe Scottish princess nearest the throne, and that therefore he is notunconcerned in the welfare of this realm. "Now, messieurs, it cannot be hid from you that there is oneoverriding and insistent peril which ought to put an end to all yourmisunderstandings. There is a young man in this land, more powerfulthan you or the King, or, indeed, all the powers legalised andestablished within the bounds of Scotland. "Who is above the law, gentlemen? I name to you the Earl of Douglas. Who hath a retinue ten times more magnificent than that with which theKing rides forth? The Earl of Douglas! Who possesses more than halfScotland, and that part the fairest and richest? Who holds in hishands all the strong castles, is joined by bond of service and manrentwith the most powerful nobles of the land? Who but the Earl ofDouglas, Duke of Touraine, Warden of the Marches, hereditaryLieutenant-General of the Kingdom?" At this point the crafty eyes of Crichton the Chancellor were turnedfull upon the speaker. His hand tugged nervously at his thin reddishbeard as if it had been combing the long goat's tuft which grewbeneath his smooth chin. "But did not you yourself come all the way from France to endue himwith the duchy of Touraine?" he said. "Doth that look like pulling himdown from his high seat?" The marshal moved a politic hand as if asking silence till he hadfinished his explanation. "Pardon, " he said; "permit me yet a moment, most High Chancellor--buthave you heard so little of the skill and craft of Louis, our mostnotable Dauphin, that you know not how he ever embraces men with theleft arm whilst he pierces them with the dagger in his right?" The Chancellor nodded appreciation. It was a detail of statecraft wellknown to him, and much practised by his house in all periods of theirhistory. "Now, my lords, " the ambassador continued, "you are here allthree--the men who need most to end this tyranny--you, my Lord ofAvondale, will you deign to deliver your mind upon this matter?" The fat Earl hemmed and hawed, clearing his throat to gain time, andknitting and unknitting his fingers over his stomach. "Being a near kinsman, " he said at last, "it is not seemly that Ishould say aught against the Earl of Douglas; but this I doknow--there will be no peace in Scotland till that young man and hisbrother are both cut off. " The Chancellor and de Retz exchanged glances. The anxiety of thenext-of-kin to the title of Earl of Douglas for the peace andprosperity of the realm seemed to strike them both as exceedinglynatural in the circumstances. "And now, Sir Alexander, what say you?" asked the Sieur de Retz, turning to the King's guardian, who had been caressing the curls ofhis beard with his white and signeted hand. "I agree, " he replied in a courtly tone, "that in the interests of theKing and of the noble lady whose care for her child hath led her tosuch sacrifices, we ought to put a limit to the pride and insolence ofthis youth!" The Chancellor bent over a parchment to hide a smile at the sacrificeswhich the Queen Mother had made for her son. "It is indeed, doubtless, " said Sir William Crichton, "a sacrificethat the King and his mother should dwell so long within this Castleof Stirling, exposed to every rude blast from off these barrenGrampians. Let her bring him to the mild and equable climate ofEdinburgh, which, as I am sure your Excellency must have observed, ispeculiarly suited to the rearing of such tender plants. " He appealed to the Sieur de Retz. The marshal bowed and answered immediately, "Indeed, it reminds me ofthe sunniest and most favoured parts of my native France. " The tutor of the King looked somewhat uncomfortable at the suggestionand shook his head. He had no idea of putting the King of Scotswithin the power of his arch enemy in the strong fortress ofEdinburgh. But the Frenchman broke in before the ill effects of the Chancellor'sspeech had time to turn the mind of the King's guardian from thepresent project against the Earl of Douglas. "But surely, gentlemen, it should not be difficult for two suchhonourable men to unite in destroying this curse of thecommonweal--and afterwards to settle any differences which may in thepast have arisen between themselves. " "Good, " said the Chancellor, "you speak well. But how are we to bringthe Earl within our danger? Already I have sent him offers ofalliance, and so, I doubt not, hath my honourable friend the tutor ofthe King. You know well what answer the proud chief of Douglasreturned. " The lips of Sir Alexander Livingston moved. He seemed to be takingsome bitter and nauseous drug of the apothecary. "Yes, Sir Alexander, I see you have not forgot. The words, 'If dog eatdog, what should the lion care?' made us every caitiff's scoffthroughout broad Scotland. " "For that he shall yet suffer, if God give me speed, " said the tutor, for the answer had been repeated to the Queen, who, being English, laughed at the wit of the reply. "I would that my boy should grow up such another as that EarlDouglas, " she had said. The tutor stroked his beard faster than ever, and there was in hiseyes the bitter look of a handsome man whose vanity is wounded in itsweakest place. "But, after all, who is to cage the lion?" said the Chancellor, pertinently. The marshal of France raised his hand from the table as if commandingsilence. His suave and courtier-like demeanour had changed intosomething more natural to the man. There came the gaunt forward thrustof a wolf on the trail into the set of his head. His long teethgleamed, and his eyelids closed down upon his eyes till these becamemere twinkling points. "I have that at hand which hath already tamed the lion, " he said, "andis able to lead him into the cage with cords of silk. " He rose from the table, and, going to a curtain that concealed thenarrow door of an antechamber, he drew it aside, and there came forth, clothed in a garment of gold and green, close-fitting and fine, clasped about the waist with a twining belt of jewelled snakes, theLady Sybilla. CHAPTER XXVI THE LION TAMER On this summer afternoon the girl's beauty seemed more wondrous andmagical than ever. Her eyes were purple-black, like the berries of thedeadly nightshade seen in the twilight. Her face was pale, and thescarlet of her lips lay like twin geranium petals on new-fallen snow. Gilles de Retz followed her with a certain grim and ghastly pride, ashe marked the sensation caused by her entrance. "This, " he said, "is my lion tamer!" But the girl never looked at him, nor in any way responded to hisglances. "Sybilla, " said de Retz, holding her with his eyes, "these gentlemenare with us. They also are of the enemies of the house ofDouglas--speak freely that which is in your heart!" "My lords, " said the Lady Sybilla, speaking in a level voice, and withher eyes fixed on the leaf-shadowed square of grass, which alone couldbe seen through the open window, "you have, I doubt not, each declaredyour grievance against William, Earl of Douglas. I alone have none. Heis a gallant gentleman. France I have travelled, Spain also, andPortugal, and have explored the utmost East, --wherever, indeed, myLord of Retz hath voyaged thither I have gone. But no braver or morechivalrous youth than William Douglas have I found in any land. I haveno grievance against him, as I say, yet for that which hath been willI deliver him into your hands. " One of the men before her grew manifestly uneasy. "We did not come hither to listen to the praises of the Earl ofDouglas, even from lips so fair as yours!" sneered Crichton theChancellor, lifting his eyes one moment from the parchment before himto the girl's face. "He is our enemy, " said the tutor of the King, Alexander Livingston, more generously, "but I will never deny that he is a gallant youth;also of his person proper to look upon. " And very complacently he smoothed down the lace ruffles which fellfrom the neck of his silken doublet midway down its front. "The young man is a Douglas, " said James the Gross, curtly; "if hewere of coward breed, we had not needed to come hither secretly!" "It needeth not four butchers to kill a sheep!" said de Retz. "Concerning that, we agree. Proceed, my Lady Sybilla. " The girl was now breathing more quickly, her bosom rising and fallingvisibly beneath her light silken gown. "Yet because of those that have been of the house of Douglas beforehim, shall I have no pity upon William, sixth Earl thereof! Andbecause of two dead Dukes of Touraine, will I deliver to you the thirdDuke, into whose mouth hath hardly yet come the proper gust of living. This is the tale I have heard a thousand times. There was in France, it skills not where, a vale quiet as a summer Sabbath day. The vineshung ripe-clustered in wide and pleasant vineyards. The olives rustledgrey on the slopes. The bell swung in the monastery tower. The cottagein the dell was safe as the château on the hill. Then came the foreignleader of a foreign army, and lo! in a day, there were a hundred deadmen in the valley, all honourable men slain in defence of their owndoors. The smoky flicker of flames broke through the roof in thedaylight. There was heard the crying of many women. And the man whowrought this was an Earl of Douglas. " The girl paused, and in a low whisper, intense as the breathing of thesea, she said: _"And for this will I deliver into your hands his grandson, William ofDouglas!"_ Then her voice came again to the ears of the four listeners, in a notelow and monotonous like the wind that goes about the house on autumnevenings. "There was also one who, being but a child, had escaped from thattumult and had found shelter in a white convent with the sistersthereof, who taught her to pray, and be happy in the peace of the hourthat is exactly like the one before it. The shadow of the dial fingerupon the stone was not more peaceful than the holy round of her life. "Then came one who met her by the convent wall, met her under theshade of the orchard trees, met her under cloud of night, till hissoul had power over hers. She followed him by camp and city, fearingno man's scorn, feeling no woman's reproach, for love's sake and his. Yet at the last he cast her away, like an empty husk, and sailed overthe seas to his own land. She lived to wed the Sieur de Thouars and tobecome my mother. " _"And for this will I reckon with his son William, Duke of Touraine. "_ She ceased, and de Retz began to speak. "By me this girl has been taught the deepest wisdom of the ancients. Ihave delved deep in the lore of the ages that this maiden might befitted for her task. For I also, that am a marshal of France and ofkin to my Lord Duke of Brittany, have a score to settle with William, Earl of Douglas, as hath also my master, Louis the Dauphin!" "It is enough, " interjected Crichton the Chancellor, who had listenedto the recital of the Lady Sybilla with manifest impatience, "it isthe old story--the sins of the fathers are upon the children. And thisyoung man must suffer for those that went before him. They drank ofthe full cup, and so he hath come now to the drains. It skills not whywe each desire to make an end of him. We are agreed on the fact. Thequestion is _how_. " It was again the voice of de Retz which replied, the deep silence ofafternoon resting like a weight upon all about them. "If we write him a letter inviting him to the Castle of Edinburgh, hewill assuredly not come; but if we first entertain him with opencourtesy at one of your castles on the way, where you, most wiseChancellor, must put yourself wholly in his hands, he will suspectnothing. There, when all his suspicions are lulled, he will again meetthe Lady Sybilla; it will rest with her to bring him to Edinburgh. " The Chancellor had been busily writing on the parchment before himwhilst de Retz was speaking. Presently he held up his hand and readaloud that which he had written. "To the most noble William, Earl of Douglas and Duke of Touraine, greeting! In the name of King James the Second, whom God preserve, andin order that the realm may have peace, Sir William Crichton, Chancellor of Scotland, and Sir Alexander Livingston, Governor of theKing's person, do invite and humbly intreat the Earl of Douglas tocome to the City of Edinburgh, with such following as shall seem goodto him, in order that he may be duly invested with the office ofLieutenant-General of the Kingdom, which office was his father'sbefore him. So shall the realm abide in peace and evil-doers be putdown, the peaceable prevented with power, and the Earl of Douglasstand openly in the honourable place of his forebears. " The Chancellor finished his reading and looked around for approbation. James of Avondale was nodding gravely. De Retz, with a ghastly smileon his face, seemed to be weighing the phrases. Livingston wasadmiring, with a self-satisfied smile, the pinkish lights upon hisfinger-nails, and the girl was gazing as before out of the window intothe green close wherein the leaves stirred and the shadows had begunto swim lazily on the grass with the coming of the wind from off thesea. "To this I would add as followeth, " continued Crichton. "TheChancellor of Scotland to William, Earl of Douglas, greeting andhomage! Sir William Crichton ventures to hope that the Earl of Douglaswill do him the great honour to come to his new Castle of Crichton, there to be entertained as beseemeth his dignity, to the healing ofall ancient enmities, and also that they both may do honour to theambassador of the King of France ere he set sail again for his ownland. " "It is indeed a worthy epistle, " said James the Gross, who, beingsleepy, wished for an end to be made. "There is at least in it no lack of 'Chancellor of Scotland!'" sneeredLivingston, covertly. "Gently, gently, great sirs, " interposed de Retz, as the Chancellorlooked up with anger in his eye; "have out your quarrels as youwill--after the snapping of the trap. Remember that this which we dois a matter of life or death for all of us. " "But the Douglases will wash us off the face of Scotland if we so muchas lay hand on the Earl, " objected Livingston. "It might even affectthe safety of his Majesty's person!" James the Gross laughed a low laugh and looked at Crichton. "Perhaps, " he said; "but what if the gallant boy David go with hisbrother? Whoever after that shall be next Earl of Douglas can easilyprevent that. Also Angus is for us, and my Lord Maxwell will move nohand. There remains, therefore, only Galloway, and my son William willanswer for that. I myself am old and fat, and love not fighting, butto tame the Douglases shall be my part, and assuredly not the least. " All this while the Lady Sybilla had been standing motionless gazingout of the window. De Retz now motioned her away with an almostimperceptible signal of his hand, whereat Sir Alexander Livingston, seeing the girl about to leave the chamber of council, courteouslyrose to usher her out. And with the very slightest acknowledgment ofhis profound obeisance, Sybilla de Thouars went forth and left thefour men to their cabal of treachery and death. CHAPTER XXVII THE YOUNG LORDS RIDE AWAY This was the letter which, along with the Chancellor's invitations, came to the hand of the Earl William as he rode forth to thedeer-hunting one morning from his Castle of Thrieve: "My lord, if it be not that you have wholly forgotten me and yourpromise, this comes to inform you that my uncle and I purpose to abideat the Castle of Crichton for ten days before finally departing forthof this land. It is known to me that the Chancellor, moved thereto byOne who desires much to see you, hath invited the Earl of Douglas tocome thither with what retinue is best beseeming so great a lord. "But 'tis beyond hope that we should meet in this manner. My lordhath, doubtless, ere this forgot all that was between us, and hathalready seen others fairer and more worthy of his courteous regardthan the Lady Sybilla. This is as well beseems a mighty lord, whotaketh up a cup full and setteth it down empty. But a woman hathnaught to do, save only to remember the things that have been, and tothink upon them. Grace be to you, my dear lord. And so for this timeand it may be for ever, fare you well!" When the Earl had read this letter from the Lady Sybilla, he turnedhimself in his saddle without delay and said to his hunt-master: "Take back the hounds, we will not hunt the stag this day. " The messenger stood respectfully before him waiting to take back ananswer. "Come you from the town of Edinburgh?" asked the Earl, quickly. "Nay, " said the youth, "let it please your greatness, I am a servantof my Lord of Crichton, and come from his new castle in the Lothians. " "Doth the Chancellor abide there at this present?" asked the Earl. "He came two noons ago with but one attendant, and bade us make readyfor a great company who were to arrive there this very day. Then hegave me these two letters and set my head on the safe delivery ofthem. " "Sholto, " cried the young lord, "summon the guard and men-at-arms. Take all that can be spared from the defence of the castle and makeready to follow me. I ride immediately to visit the Chancellor ofScotland at his castle in the Lothians. " It was Sholto's duty to obey, but his heart sank within him, both atthe thought of the Earl thus venturing among his enemies, and alsobecause he must needs leave behind him Maud Lindesay, on whose wilfuland wayward beauty his heart was set. "My lord, " he stammered, "permit me one word. Were it not better towait till a following of knights and gentlemen beseeming the Earl ofDouglas should be brought together to accompany you on so perilous ajourney?" "Do as I bid you, Sir Captain, " was the Earl's short rejoinder; "youhave my orders. " "O that the Abbot were here--" thought Sholto, as he moved heavily todo his master's will; "he might reason with the Earl with some hope ofsuccess. " On his way to summon the guard Sholto met Maud Lindesay going out totwine gowans with the Maid on the meadows about the Mains of Kelton. For, as Margaret Douglas complained, "All ours on the isle weretrodden down by the men who came to the tourney, and they have notgrown up again. " "Whither away so gloomy, Sir Knight?" cried Maud, all her winsome facealight with pleasure in the bright day, and because of the excellentjoy of living. "On a most gloomy errand, indeed, " said Sholto. "My lord rides with asmall company into the very stronghold of his enemy, and will hear noword from any!" "And do you go with him?" cried Maud, her bright colour leaving herface. "Not only I, but all that can be spared of the men-at-arms and of thearcher guard, " answered Sholto. Maud Lindesay turned about and took the little girl's hand. "Margaret, " she said, "let us go to my lady. Perhaps she will be ableto keep my Lord William at home. " So they went back to the chamber of my Lady of Douglas. Now theCountess had never been of great influence with her son, even duringher husband's lifetime, and had certainly none with him since. Stillit was possible that William Douglas might, for a time at least, listen to advice and delay his setting out till a suitable retinuecould be brought together to protect him. Maud and Margaret found theLady of Douglas busily embroidering a vestment of silk and gold forthe Abbot of Sweetheart. She laid aside her work and listened withgentle patience to the hasty tale told by Maud Lindesay. "I will speak with William, " she answered, with a certain hopelessnessin her voice, "but I know well he will go his own gait for aught thathis mother can say. He is his father's son, and the men of the houseof Douglas, they come and they go, recking no will but their own. Andeven so will my son William. " "But he is taking David with him also!" cried Margaret. "I met himeven now on the stair, wild in haste to put on his shirt of mail andthe sword with the golden hilt which the ambassador of France gavehim. " A quick flush coloured the pale countenance of the Lady Countess. "Nay, but one is surely enough to meet the Chancellor. David shall notgo. He is but a lad and knows nothing of these things. " For this boy was ever his mother's favourite, far more than either herelder son or her little daughter, whom indeed she left entirely to thecare and companionship of Maud Lindesay. My Lady of Douglas went slowly downstairs. The Earl, with Sholto byhis side, was ordering the accoutrement of the mounted men-at-arms inthe courtyard. "William, " she called, in a soft voice which would not have reachedhim, busied as he was with his work, but that little Margaret raisedher childish treble and called out: "William, our mother desires tospeak with you. Do you not hear her?" The Earl turned about, and, seeing his mother, came quickly to her andstood bareheaded before her. "You are not going to run into danger, William?" she said, stillsoftly. "Nay, mother mine, " he answered, smiling, "do not fear, I do but rideto visit the Chancellor Crichton in his castle, and also to bidfarewell to the French ambassador, who abode here as our guest. " A sudden light shone in upon the mind of Maud Lindesay. "'Tis all that French minx!" she whispered in Sholto's ear, "she hathbewitched him. No one need try to stop him now. " His mother went on, with an added anxiety in her voice. "But you will not take my little David with you? You will leave me oneson here to comfort me in my loneliness and old age?" The Earl seemed about to yield, being, indeed, careless whether Davidwent with him or no. "Mother, " cried David, coming running forth from the castle, "you mustnot persuade William to make me stay at home. I shall never be a manif I am kept among women. There is Sholto MacKim, he is little olderthan I, and already he hath won the archery prize and the sword-play, and hath fought in a tourney and been knighted--while I have donenothing except pull gowans with Maud Lindesay and play chuckie stoneswith Margaret there. " And at that moment Sholto wished that this fate had been his, and thehonours David's. He told himself that he would willingly have given uphis very knighthood that he might abide near that dainty form andwitching face. He tortured himself with the thought that Maud wouldlisten to others as she had listened to him; that she would practiseon others that heart-breaking slow droop and quick uplift of theeyelashes which he knew so well. Who might not be at hand to aid herto blow out her lamp when the guards were set of new in the corridorsof Thrieve? "Mother, " the Earl answered, "David speaks good sense. He will nevermake a man or a Douglas if he is to bide here within this warded isle. He must venture forth into the world of men and women, and taste aman's pleasures and chance a man's dangers like the rest. " "But are you certain that you will bring him safe back again to me?"said his mother, wistfully. "Remember, he is so young and eke soreckless. " "Nay, " cried David, eagerly, "I am no younger than my cousin James waswhen he fought the strongest man in Scotland, and I warrant I couldride a course as well as Hughie Douglas of Avondale, though Williamchose him for the tourney and left me to bite my thumbs at home. " The lady sighed and looked at her sons, one of them but a youth andthe other no more than a boy. "Was there ever a Douglas yet who would take any advice but from hisown desire?" she said, looking down at them like a douce barn-door fowlwho by chance has reared a pair of eaglets. "Lads, ye are over strongfor your mother. But I will not sleep nor eat aright till I have myDavid back again, and can see him riding his horse homeward throughthe ford. " CHAPTER XXVIII ON THE CASTLE ROOF Maud Lindesay parted from Sholto upon the roof of the keep. She hadgone up thither to watch the cavalcade ride off where none could spyupon her, and Sholto, noting the flutter of white by the battlements, ran up thither also, pretending that he had forgotten something, though he was indeed fully armed and ready to mount and ride. Maud Lindesay was leaning over the battlements of the castle, and, hearing a step behind her, she looked about with a start of apparentsurprise. The after dew of recent tears still glorified her eyes. "Oh, Sholto, " she cried, "I thought you were gone; I was watching foryou to ride away. I thought--" But Sholto, seeing her disorder, and having little time to waste, camequickly forward and took her in his arms without apology or prelude, as is (they say) wisest in such cases. "Maud, " he said, his utterance quick and hoarse, "we go into the houseof our enemies. Thirty knights and no more accompany my lord, whomight have ridden out with three thousand in his train. " "'Tis all that witch woman, " cried the girl; "can you not advise him?" "The Earl of Douglas did not ask my advice, " said Sholto, a littledryly, being eager to turn the conversation upon his own matters andto his own advantage. "And, moreover, if he rides into danger for thesake of love--why, I for one think the more of him for it. " "But for such a creature, " objected Maud Lindesay. "For any true maidit were most right and proper! Where is there a noble lady in Scotlandwho would not have been proud to listen to him? But he must needs runafter this mongrel French woman!" "Even Mistress Maud Lindesay would accept him, would she?" saidSholto, somewhat bitterly, releasing her a little. "Maud Lindesay is no great lady, only the daughter of a poor baron ofthe North, and much bound to my Lord Douglas by gratitude for thatwhich he hath done for her family. As you right well know, MaudLindesay is little better than a tiremaiden in the house of my lord. " "Nay, " said Sholto, "I crave your pardon. I meant it not. I am hastyof words, and the time is short. Will you pardon me and bid mefarewell, for the horses are being led from stall, and I cannot keepmy lord waiting?" "You are glad to go, " she said reproachfully; "you will forget us whomyou leave behind you here. Indeed, you care not even now, so that youare free to wander over the world and taste new pleasures. That is tobe a man, indeed. Would that I had been born one!" "Nay, Maud, " said Sholto, trying to draw the girl again near him, because she kept him at arm's length by the unyielding strength of herwrist, "none shall ever come near my heart save Maud Lindesay alone! Iwould that I could ride away as sure of you as you are of SholtoMacKim!" "Indeed, " cried the girl, with some show of returning spirit, "to thatyou have no claim. Never have I said that I loved you, nor indeed thatI thought about you at all. " "It is true, " answered Sholto, "and yet--I think you will remember mewhen the lamps are blown out. God speed, belovedst, I hear the trumpetblow, and the horses trampling. " For out on the green before the castle the Earl's guard was mustering, and Fergus MacCulloch, the Earl's trumpeter, blew an impatient blast. It seemed to speak to this effect: _"Hasten ye, hasten ye, come to the riding, Hasten ye, hasten ye, lads of the Dee-- Douglasdale come, come Galloway, Annandale, Galloway blades are the best of the three!"_ Sholto held out his arms at the first burst of the stirring sound, andthe girl, all her wayward pride falling from her in a moment, camestraight into them. "Good-by, my sweetheart, " he said, stooping to kiss the lips that nowsaid him not nay, but which quivered pitifully as he touched them, "God knows whether these eyes shall rest again on the desire of myheart. " Maud looked into his face steadily and searchingly. "You are sure you will not forget me, Sholto?" she said; "you willlove me as much to-morrow when you are far away, and think me as fairas you do when you hold me thus in your arms upon the battlements ofThrieve?" Before Sholto had time to answer, the trumpet rang out again, with acall more instant and imperious than before. [Illustration: "BUT THERE COMETH A NIGHT WHEN EVERY ONE OF US WATCHESTHE GREY SHALLOWS TO THE EAST FOR THOSE THAT SHALL RETURN NO MORE!"] Sholto clasped her close to him as the second summons shrilled up intothe air. "God keep my little lass!" he said; "fear not, Maud, I have neverloved any but you!" He was gone. And through her tears Maud Lindesay watched him from thetop of the great square keep, as he rode off gallantly behind the Earland his brother. "In time past I have dreamed, " she thought to herself, "that I lovedthis one and that; but it was not at all like this. I cannot put himout of my mind for a moment, even when I would!" As the brothers William and David Douglas crossed the rough bridge ofpine thrown over the narrows of the Dee, they looked backsimultaneously. Their mother stood on the green moat platform ofThrieve, with their little sister Margaret holding up her train with apretty modesty. She waved not a hand, fluttered no kerchief offarewell, only stood sadly watching the sons with whom she hadtravailed, like one who watches the dear dead borne to their lastresting-place. "So, " she communed, "even thus do the women of the Douglas House watchtheir beloveds ride out of sight. And so for many times they returnthrough the ford at dawn or dusk. But there cometh a night when everyone of us watches the grey shallows to the east for those that shallreturn no more!" "See, see!" cried the little Margaret, "look, dear mother, they havetaken off their caps, and even Sholto hath his steel bonnet in hishand. They are bidding us farewell. I wish Maudie had been here tosee. I wonder where she has hidden herself. How surprised she will beto find that they are gone!" It was a true word that the little Maid of Galloway spoke, for, according to the pretty custom of the young Earl, the cavalcade hadhalted ere they plunged into the woods of Kelton. The Douglas ladstook their bonnets in their hands. Their dark hair was stirred by thebreeze. Sholto also bared his head and looked towards the speck ofwhite which he could just discern on the summit of the frowning keep. "Shall ever her eyelashes rise and fall again for me, and shall I seethe smile waver alternately petulant and tender upon her lips?" This was his meditation. For, being a young man in love, these thingswere more to him than matins and evensong, king or chancellor, heavenor hell--as indeed it was right and wholesome that they should be. CHAPTER XXIX CASTLE CRICHTON Crichton Castle was much more a defenced château and less a feudalstronghold than Thrieve. It stood on a rising ground above the littleWater of Tyne, which flowed clear and swift beneath from the blind"hopes" and bare valleys of the Moorfoot Hills. But the site was wellchosen both for pleasure and defence. The ground fell away on threesides. Birch, alder, ash, girt it round and made pleasant summerbowers everywhere. The fox-faced Chancellor had spent much money on beautifying it, andthe kitchens and larders were reported to be the best equipped inScotland. On the green braes of Crichton, therefore, in due time theyoung Douglases arrived with their sparse train of thirty riders. SirWilliam Crichton had ridden out to meet them across the innumerablelittle valleys which lie around Temple and Borthwick to the brow ofthat great heathy tableland which runs back from the Moorfoots clearto the Solway. With him were only the Marshal de Retz and his niece, the LadySybilla. Not a single squire or man-at-arms accompanied these three, for, asthe Chancellor well judged, there was no way more likely effectuallyto lull the suspicions of a gallant man like the Douglas than toforestall him in generous confidence. The three sat their horses and looked to the south for their guests atthat delightsome hour of the summer gloaming when the last bees arereluctantly disengaging themselves from the dewy heather bells and thecircling beetles begin their booming curfew. "There they come!" cried de Retz, suddenly, pointing to a few specksof light which danced and dimpled between them and the low horizon ofthe south, against which, like a spacious armada, leaned a drift ofprimrose sunset clouds. "There they come--I see them also!" said the Lady Sybilla, andsuddenly sighed heavily and without cause. "Where, and how many?" cried the Chancellor, in a shrill pipe usuallyassociated with the physically deformed, but which from him meant nomore than anxious discomposure. The marshal pointed with the steady hand of the practised commander tothe spot at which his keen eye had detected the cavalcade. "Yonder, " he said, "where the pine tree stands up against the sky. " "And how many? I cannot see them, my eyesight fails. I bid you tell mehow many, " gasped the Chancellor. The ambassador looked long. "There are, as I think, no more than twenty or thirty riders. " Instantly the Chancellor turned and held out his hand. "We have him, " he muttered, withdrawing it again as soon as he sawthat the ambassador did not take it, being occupied gazing under hispalm at the approaching train of riders. The Lady Sybilla sat silent and watched the company which rode towardsthem--with what thoughts in her heart, who shall venture to guess? Shekept her head studiously averted from the Marshal de Retz, and oncewhen he touched her arm to call attention to something, she shudderedand moved a little nearer to the Chancellor. Nevertheless, she obeyedher companion implicitly and without question when he bade her rideforward with them to receive the Chancellor's guests. Crichton took it on himself to rally the girl on her silence. "Of what may you be thinking so seriously?" he said. "Of thirty pieces of silver, " she replied instantly. And at these words the marshal turned upon the girl a regard so blackand relentless that the Chancellor, happening to encounter it, shrankback abashed, even as some devilkin caught in a fault might shrinkfrom the angry eyes of the Master of Evil. But the Lady Sybilla looked calmly at her kinsman. "Of what do you complain?" he asked her. "I complain of nothing, " she made him answer. "I am that which I am, and I am that which you have made me, my Lord of Retz. Fear not, Iwill do my part. " Right handsome looked the young Earl of Douglas, as with a flush ofexpectation and pleasure on his face he rode up to the party of threewho had come out to meet him. He made his obeisance to Sybilla first, with a look of supremest happiness in his eyes which many women wouldhave given their all to see there. As he came close he leaped from hishorse, and advancing to his lady he bent and kissed her hand. "My Lady Sybilla, " he said, "I am as ever your loyal servant. " The Chancellor and the ambassador had both dismounted, not to beoutdone in courtesy, and one after the other they greeted him withwhat cordiality they could muster. The narrow, thin-bearded face ofthe Chancellor and the pallid death-mask of de Retz, out of whichglittered orbs like no eyes of human being, furnished a singularcontrast to the uncovered head, crisp black curls, slight moustache, and fresh olive complexion of the young Earl of Douglas. And as often as he was not looking at her, the eyes of the LadySybilla rested on Lord Douglas with a strange expression in theirdeeps. The colour in her cheek came and went. The vermeil of her lipflushed and paled alternate, from the pink of the wild rose-leaf tothe red of its autumnal berry. But presently, at a glance from her kinsman, Sybilla de Thouars seemedto recall herself with difficulty from a land of dreams, and with anobvious effort began to talk to William Douglas. "Whom have you brought to see me?" she said. "Only a few men-at-arms, besides Sholto my squire, and my brotherDavid, " he made answer. "I did not wait for more. But let me bring thelad to you. Sholto you did not like when he was a plain archer of theguard, and I fear that he will not have risen in your grace since Idubbed him knight. " David Douglas willingly obeyed the summons of his brother, and cameforward to kiss the hand of the Lady Sybilla. "Here, Sholto, " cried his lord, "come hither, man. It will do yourpride good to see a lady who avers that conceit hath eaten you up. " Sholto came at the word and bowed before the French damosel as he wascommanded, meekly enough to all outward aspect. But in his heart hewas saying over and over to himself words that consoled him mightily:"A murrain on her! The cozening madam, she will never be worth namingon the same day as Maud Lindesay!" "Nay, " cried the Lady Sybilla, laughing; "indeed, I said not that Idisliked this your squire. What woman thinks the worse of a lad ofmettle that he does not walk with his head between his feet. But 'tispity that there is no fair cruel maid to bind his heart in chains, andmake him fetch and carry to break his pride. He thinks overmuch of hissword-play and arrow skill. " "He must go to France for that humbling, " said the Earl, gaily, "orelse mayhap some day a maid may come from France to break his heartfor him. The like hath been and may be again. " "I would that I had known there were such gallant blades as you three, my Lords of Douglas and their knight, sighing here in Scotland to haveyour hearts broke for the good of your souls. I had then brought withme a tierce of damsels fair as cruel, who had done it in the flashingof a swallow's wing. But 'tis a contract too great for one poor maid. " "Yet you yourself ventured all alone into this realm of forlorn anddesperate men, " answered the Earl, scarcely recking what he said, norindeed caring so that her dark eyes should continue to rest on himwith the look he had seen in them at his first coming. "All alone--yes, much, much alone, " she answered with a strangeglance about her. "My kinsman loves not womankind, and neither in hiscastles nor yet in his company does he permit any of the sex long toabide. " The men now mounted again, and the three rode back in the midst of thecavalcade of Douglas spears, the Chancellor talking as freely andconfidently to the Earl as if he had been his friend for years, whilethe Earl of Douglas kept up the converse right willingly so long as, looking past the Chancellor, his eyes could rest also upon thedelicately poised head and graceful form of the Lady Sybilla. And behind them a horse's length the Marshal de Retz rode, smiling inthe depths of his blue-black beard, and looking at them out of thewicks of his triangular eyes. Presently the towers of the Castle of Crichton rose before them on itsgreen jutting spur. The Tyne Valley sank beneath into level meads andrich pastures, while behind the Moorfoots spread brown and barewithout prominent peaks or distinguished glens, but nevertheless witha certain large vagueness and solemnity peculiarly their own. The _fętes_ with which the Chancellor welcomed his guests were manyand splendid. But in one respect they differed from those which havebeen described at Castle Thrieve. There was no military pomp of anykind connected with them. The Chancellor studiously avoided allpretence of any other distinction than that belonging to a plain manwhom circumstances have raised against his will to a position ofresponsibility. The thirty spears of the Earl's guard, indeed, constituted the wholemilitary force within or about the Castle of Crichton. "I am a lawyer, my lord, a plain lawyer, " he said; "all Scots lawyersare plain. And I must ask you to garrison my bit peel-tower ofCrichton in a manner more befitting your own greatness, and the honourdue to the ambassador of France, than a humble knight is able to do. " So Sholto was put into command of the court and battlements of thecastle, and posted and changed guard as though he had been at Thrieve, while the Chancellor bustled about, affecting more the style of a richand comfortable burgess than that of a feudal baron. "'Tis a snug bit hoose, " he would say, dropping into the countrysidespeech; "there's nocht fine within it from cellar to roof tree, saveonly the provend and the jolly Malmsey. And though I be but a pooreater myself, I love that my betters, who do me the honour ofsojourning within my gates, should have the wherewithal to be merry. " And it was even as he said, for the tables were weighted withdelicacies such as were never seen upon the boards of Thrieve orCastle Douglas. CHAPTER XXX THE BOWER BY YON BURNSIDE And ever as he gazed at her the Earl of Douglas grew more and more inlove with the Lady Sybilla. There was no covert side through which aburn plunged downward from the steep side of Moorfoot, but theywandered it alone together. Early and late they might have been met, he with his face turned upon her, and she looking straight forwardwith the same inscrutable calm. And all who saw left them alone asthey took their way to gather flowers like children, or, as it mightbe, stood still and silent like a pair of lovers under the eveningstar. For in these summer days and nights bloomed untiringly the briefpassion-flower of William Douglas's life. Meanwhile Sholto gritted his teeth in impotent rage, but had nothingto do save change guard and keep a wary eye upon the Chancellor, whowent about rubbing his hands and glancing sidelong as the copsesclosed behind the Earl of Douglas and the Lady Sybilla. As for theambassador of France, he was, as was usual with him, much occupied inhis own chamber with his servants Poitou and Henriet, and save whendinner was served in hall appeared little at the festivities. Sholto wished at times for the presence of his father; but at others, when he saw William Douglas and Sybilla return with a light on theirfaces, and their eyes large and vague, he bethought him of MaudLindesay, and was glad that, for a little at least, the sun of loveshould shine upon his lord. It was in the gracious fulness of the early autumn, when the sheaveswere set up in many a park and little warded holt about the Moorfootbraes, that William Douglas and Sybilla de Thouars stood together upona crest of hill, crowned with dwarf birch and thick foliaged alder--aplace in the retirement of whose sylvan bower they had already spentmany tranced hours. The Lady Sybilla sat down on a worn grey rock which thrust itselfthrough the green turf. William Douglas stood beside her pulling ablade of bracken to pieces. The girl had been wearing a broad flat capof velvet, which in the coolness of the twilight she had removed andnow swung gently to and fro in her hand as she looked to the north, where small as a toy and backed by the orange glow of sunset, theCastle of Edinburgh could be seen black upon its wind-swept ridge. Thegirl was speaking slowly and softly. "Nay, Earl Douglas, " she said, "marriage must not be named to Sybillade Thouars, certainly never by an Earl of Douglas and Duke ofTouraine. He must wed for riches and fair provinces. His house isregal already. He is better born than the King, more powerful also. The daughter of a Breton squire, of a forlorn and deserted mother, thekinswoman of Gilles de Retz of Machecoul and Champtocé, is not forhim. " "A Douglas makes many sacrifices, " said the young man withearnestness; "but this is not demanded of him. Four generations of ushave wedded for power. It is surely time that one did so for love. " The girl reached him her hand, saying softly: "Ah, William, would thatit had been so. Too late I begin to think on those things which mighthave been, had Sybilla de Thouars been born under a more fortunatestar. As it is I can only go on--a terror to myself and a bane toothers. " The young man, absorbed in his own thoughts, did not hear her words. "The world itself were little to give in order that in exchange Imight possess you, " he answered. The girl laughed a strange laugh, and drew back her hand from his. "Possess me, well--but marry me--no. Honest men and honourable likeEarl Douglas do not wed with the niece of Gilles de Retz. I hadthought my heart within me to be as flint in the chalk, yet now I prayyou on my knees to leave me. Take your thirty lances and your youngbrother and ride home. Then, safe in your island fortress of Thrieve, blot out of your heart all memory that ever you found pleasure in acreature so miserable as Sybilla de Thouars. " "But, " said the young Earl, passionately, "tell me why so, my lady. Ido not understand. What obstacle can there be? You tell me that youlove me, that you are not betrothed. Your kinsman is an honourableman, a marshal and an ambassador of France, a cousin of the Duke ofBrittany, a reigning sovereign. Moreover, am not I the Douglas? I amresponsible to no man. William Douglas may wed whom he will--king'sdaughter or beggar wench. Why should he not join with the honourabledaughter of an honourable house, and the one woman he has ever loved?" The girl let her velvet cap fall on the ground, and sank her facebetween her hands. Her whole body was shaken with emotion. "Go--go, " she cried, starting to her feet and standing before him, "call out your lances and ride home this night. Never look more uponthe face of such a thing as Sybilla de Thouars. I bid you! I warn you!I command you! I thought I had been of stone, but now when I see you, and hear your words, I cannot do that which is laid upon me to do. " William of Douglas smiled. "I cannot go, " he said simply, "I love you. Moreover, I will not go--Iam Earl of Douglas. " The girl clasped her hands helplessly. "Not if I tell you that I have deceived you, led you on?" she said. "Not if I swear that I am the slave of a power so terrible that thereare no words in any language to tell the least of the things I havesuffered?" The Earl shook his head. The girl suddenly stamped her foot in anger. "Go--go, I tell you, " she cried; "stay not a day in this accursedplace, wherein no true word is spoken and no loyal deed done, savethose which come forth from your own true heart. " "Nay, " said William Douglas, with his eyes on hers, "it is too late, Sybil. I have kissed the red of your lips. Your head hath lain on mybreast. My whole soul is yours. I cannot now go back, even if I would. The boy I have been, I can be no more for ever. " The girl rose from the stone on which she had been sitting. There wasa new smile in her eyes. She held out her hands to the youth whostood so erect and proud before her. "Well, at the worst, WilliamDouglas, " she said, "you may never live to wear a white head, but atleast you shall touch the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, taste the fruitage and smell the blossoms thereof more than a hundredgreybeards. I had not thought that earth held anywhere such a man, orthat aught but blackness and darkness remained this side of hell forone so desolate as I. I have bid you leave me. I have told you thatwhich, were it known, would cost me my life. But since you will notgo, --since you are strong enough to stand unblenching in the face ofdoom, --you shall not lose all without a price. " She opened her arms wide, and her eyes were glorious. "I love you, " she said, her lips thrilling towards him, "I love you, love you, as I never thought to love any man upon this earth. " CHAPTER XXXI THE GABERLUNZIE MAN The next morning the Chancellor came down early from his chamber, andfinding Earl Douglas already waiting in the courtyard, he rubbed hishands and called out cheerfully: "We shall be more lonely to-day, butperhaps even more gay. For there are many things men delight in whicheven the fairest ladies care not for, fearing mayhap some invasion oftheir dominions. " "What mean you, my Lord Chancellor?" said the Douglas to his host, eagerly scanning the upper windows meanwhile. "I mean, " said the Chancellor, fawningly, "that his Excellency, theambassador of France, hath ridden away under cloud of night, and hathtaken his fair ward with him. " The Earl turned pale and stood glowering at the obsequious Chancelloras if unable to comprehend the purport of his words. At last hecommanded himself sufficiently to speak. "Was this resolution sudden, or did the Lady Sybilla know of ityesternight?" "Nay, of a surety it was quite sudden, " replied the Chancellor. "Amessage arrived from the Queen Mother to the Marshal de Retzrequesting an immediate meeting on business of state, whereupon Ioffered my Castle of Edinburgh for the purpose as being moreconvenient than Stirling. So I doubt not that they are all met there, the young King being of the party. It is, indeed, a quaint fallingout, for of late, as you may have heard, the Tutor and the Queen havescarce been of the number of my intimates. " The Earl of Douglas appeared strangely disturbed. He paid no furtherattention to his host, but strode to and fro in the courtyard with histhumbs in his belt, in an attitude of the deepest meditation. The Chancellor watched him from under his eyebrows with alternateapprehension and satisfaction, like a timid hunter who sees the lionhalf in and half out of the snare. "I have a letter for you, my Lord Douglas, " he said, after a longpause. "Ah, " cried Douglas, with obvious relief, "why did you not tell me soat first. Pray give it me. " "I knew not whether it might afford you pleasure or no, " answered theChancellor. "Give it me!" cried Douglas, imperiously, as though he spoke to anunderling. Sir William Crichton drew a square parcel from beneath his long-furredgown, and handed it to William Douglas, who, without stepping back, instantly broke the seal. "Pshaw, " cried he, contemptuously, "it is from the Queen Mother andAlexander Livingston!" He thought it had been from another, and his disappointment waswritten clear upon his face. "Even so, " said the Chancellor, suavely; "it was delivered by the sameservant who brought the message which called away the ambassador andhis companion. " The Earl read it from beginning to end. After the customary greetingsand good wishes the letter ran as follows: "The King greatly desires to see his noble cousin of Douglas at the castle of Edinburgh, presently put at his Majesty's disposal by the High Chancellor of Scotland. Here in this place are now assembled all the men who desire the peace and assured prosperity of the realm, saving the greatest of all, my Lord and kinsman of Douglas. The King sends affectionate greeting to his cousin, and desires that he also may come thither, that the ambassador of France may carry back to his master a favourable report of the unity and kindly governance of the kingdom during his minority. " The Chancellor watched the Earl as he read this letter. To one moresuspicious than William Douglas it would have been clear that he washimself perfectly acquainted with the contents. "I am bidden meet the King at the Castle of Edinburgh, " said Douglas;"I will set out at once. " "Nay, my lord, " said Crichton, "not this day, at least. Stay and huntthe stag on the braes of Borthwick. My huntsmen have marked down aswift and noble buck. To-morrow to Edinburgh an you will!" "I thank you, Sir William, " the Douglas answered, curtly enough; "butthe command is peremptory. I must ride to Edinburgh this very day. " "I pray you remember that Edinburgh is a turbulent city and littleinclined to love your great house. Is it, think you, wise to gothither with so small a retinue?" The Earl waved his hand carelessly. "I am not afraid, " he said; "besides, what harm can befall when Ilodge in the castle of the Lord Chancellor of Scotland?" Crichton bowed very low. "What harm, indeed?" he said; "I did but advise your lordship tobethink himself. I am an old man, pray remember--fast growing feebleand naturally inclined to overmuch caution. But the blood flows hotthrough the veins of eighteen. " Sholto, who knew nothing of these happenings, had just finishedexercising his men on the smooth green in front of the Castle ofCrichton, and had dismissed them, when a gaberlunzie or privilegedbeggar, a long lank rascal with a mat of tangled hair, and clad in acast-off leathern suit which erstwhile some knight had worn under hismail, leaped suddenly from the shelter of a hedge. InstinctivelySholto laid his hand on his dagger. "Nay, " snuffled the fellow, "I come peaceably. As you love your lordhasten to give him this letter. And, above all, let not the Crichtonsee you. " He placed a small square scrap of parchment in Sholto's hand. It wassealed in black wax with a serpent's head, and from the condition ofthe outside had evidently been in places both greasy and grimy. Sholtoput it in his leathern pouch wherein he was used to keep the hone forsharpening his arrows, and bestowed a silver groat upon the beggar. "Thy master's life is surely worth more than a groat, " said the man. "I warrant you have been well enough paid already, " said Sholto, "thatis, if this be not a deceit. But here is a shilling. On your head beit, if you are playing with Sholto MacKim!" So saying the captain of the guard strode within. He had alreadyacquired the carriage and consequence of a veteran old in the wars. His master was still pacing up and down the courtyard, deep inmeditation. Sholto saluted the young Earl and asked permission tospeak a word with him. "Speak on, Sholto--well do you know that at all times you may say whatyou will to me. " "But this I desire to keep from prying eyes. My lord, there is aletter in my wallet which was given me even now by a gaberlunzie man. He declares that it concerns your life. I pray you take out my honestone as if to look at it, and with it the letter. " The Earl nodded, as if Sholto had been making a report to him. Then hewent nearer and began to finger his squire's accoutrements, finallyopening his belt pouch and taking out the stone that was therein. "Where gat you this hone!" he said, holding it to the light; "it looksnot the right blue for a Water-of-Ayr stone. " Sholto answered that it came from the Parton Hills, and, as the Earlreplaced it, he possessed himself of the square letter and thrust itinto the bosom of his doublet. As soon as William Douglas was alone, he broke the seal and tore openthe parchment. It was written in a delicate foreign script, thecharacters fine and small: "My lord, do not, I beseech you, come to Edinburgh or think of me more. Last night my Lord of Retz spied upon us and this morning he hath carried me off. Wherever you are when you receive this, turn instantly and ride with all speed to one of your strong castles. As you love me, go! We can never hope to see one another again. Forget an unfortunate girl who can never forget you. " There was no signature saving the impression of the joined serpents'heads, which he remembered as the signet of the ring he had found andgiven back to her on the day of the tournament. "I will never give her up. I must see her, " cried the Earl of Douglas, "and this very day. Aye, and though I were to die for it on themorrow, see her I will!" CHAPTER XXXII "EDINBURGH CASTLE, TOWER, AND TOWN" It was with an anxious heart that Sholto rode out behind his masterover the bald northerly slopes of the Moorfoots. For a long time DavidDouglas kept close to his brother, so that the captain of the guardcould speak no private word. For, though he knew that nothing was tobe gained by remonstrance, Sholto was resolved that he would not lethis reckless master run unwarned into danger so deadly and certain. He rode up, therefore, and craved permission to speak to the Earl, seizing an occasion when David had fallen a little behind. "Thou art a true son of Malise MacKim, whatever thy mother may aver, "cried the Earl. "I'll wager a gold angel thou art going to saysomething shrewdly unpleasant. That great lurdain, thy father, neverasks permission to speak save when he has stilettos rankling where hishonest tongue should be. " "My lord, " said Sholto, "bear a word from one who loves you. Go notinto this town of Edinburgh. Or at least wait till you can ridethither with three thousand lances as did your father, and his fatherbefore him. " The Earl laughed merrily and clapped his young knight on theshoulder. "Did you not tell me the same ere we came to the Castle of Crichton, and lo! there we were ten days in the place and not a man-at-armswithin miles except your own Galloway varlets! Sholto, my lad, wemight have sacked the castle, rolled all the platters down the slopesinto the Tyne, and sent the cooks trundling after them, for all thatany one could have done to stop us. Yet here are we riding forth, feathers in our bonnets, swords by our sides, panged full of theChancellor's good meat and drink, and at once, as soon as we are gone, Sholto MacKim begins the same old discontented corbie's croak!" "But, my lord, 'tis a different matter yonder. The Castle of Edinburghis a strong place with many courts and doors--a hostile city roundabout, not a solitary castle like Crichton. They may separate you fromus, and we may be able neither to save you nor yet to die with you, ifthe worst comes to the worst. " "I may inform you as well soon as syne, you waste your breath, Sholto, " said Earl Douglas, "and it ill becomes a young knight, let metell you, to be so chicken-hearted. The next time I will leave you athome to hem linen for the bed-sheets. Malise is a licensed croaker, but I thought better of you, Master Sholto MacKim!" The captain of the Earl's guard looked on the ground and his heart wasdistressed within him. Yet, in spite of the raillery of the Douglas, he resolved to make one more effort. "My lord, " he said, "you know not the full hatred of these men againstyour house. What other object save the destruction of the Douglas canhave drawn together foes so deadly as Crichton and Livingston? Atleast, my lord, if you are set on risking your own life, send back oneof us with your brother David!" Then cried out David Douglas, who had joined them during the converse, against so monstrous a proposal. "I will not go back in any case, " said the lad; "William has theearldom and the titles. I may at least be allowed part of the fun. Sholto, if William dies without heirs and I become Earl, my first actwill be to hang you on the dule tree with a raven on either side, fora slow-bellied knave and prophet of evil!" The Earl looked at his brother and seemed to hesitate. "There is something in what you say, Sholto. " "My lord, if the blow fall, let not your line be wholly cut off. Ipray you let five good lads ride straight for Douglasdale with Davidin the midst--" "Sholto, " cried the boy, "I will not go back, nor be a palterer, allbecause you are afraid for your own skin!" "My place is with my master, " said Sholto, curtly, and the boy lookedashamed for a moment; but he soon recovered himself and returned tothe charge. "Well, then, 'tis because you want to see Maud Lindesay that you areso set on returning. I saw you kiss Maud's hand in the dark of thestairs. Aha! Master Sholto, what say you now?" "Hold your tongue, David, " cried his brother; "you might have seen himkiss yet more pleasantly, and yet do no harm. But, after all, you andI are Douglases and our star is in the zenith. We will fall together, if fall we must. Not a word more about it. David, I will race you toyonder dovecot for a golden lion. " "Done with you!" cried his brother, joyously, and in an instant spurswere into the flanks of their horses, and the young men flewthundering over the green turf, riding swiftly into the golden hazefrom which rose ever higher and higher the dark towers of the Castleof Edinburgh. Past grey peel and wind-swept fortalice the young Lords of Douglas rodethat autumn day, gaily as to a wedding, on their way to placethemselves in the power of their house's enemies. The sea plainpursued them, flecked green and purple on their right hand. Littleships floated on the smooth surface of the firth, hardly larger insize than the boats of fisher folk, yet ships withal which hadadventured into far seas and brought back rich produce into the barrenlands of the Scots. At last they entered the demesne of Holyrood, and saw the deercrouching and basking about the copses or scampering over the broomyknowes of the Nether Hill. As they came near to the Canongate Port, they saw a gallant band gaily dressed coming forth to meet them, andthe Earl's eye brightened as it caught in the midst the glint ofladies' attiring. "See, Sholto, " he cried, "and repent! Yonder is not a single lanceshining, and you cannot turn your grumbling head but you will see nightwo score, with a stout Douglas heart bumping under each. " "Ah, " said Sholto, without joy or conviction, "but we are neither innor yet out of this weary town of Edinburgh!" As the cavalcade approached, there came a boy on a pony at speedtowards them. He carried a switch in his hand, and with it he urgedhis little beast to still greater endeavours. "The King!" cried David, cheerfully. "I heard he was a sturdy bratenough!" And in another moment the two young men of the dominant house weretaking off their bonnets to the boy who, in name at least, was theirsovereign and overlord. "Hurrah!" cried the lad, as he circled about them, reckless andirresponsible as a sea-gull, "I am so glad, so very glad you havecome. I like you because you are so bold and young. I have none aboutme like you. You will teach me to ride a tourney. I have been hearingall about yours at Thrieve from the Lady Sybilla. I wish you had askedme. But now we shall be friends, and I will come and stay long monthswith you all together--that is, if my mother will let me. " All this the young King shouted as he ranged alongside of the twobrothers, and rode with them towards the city. King James II. Of Scotland was at this time an open-hearted boy, withno evident mark of the treachery and jealous fury which afterwardsdistinguished him as a man. The schooling of Livingston, his tutor, had not yet perverted his mind (as it did too soon afterwards), and hewelcomed the young Douglases as the embodiment of all that was greatand knightly, noble and gallant, in his kingdom. "Yesterday, " he began, as soon as he had subdued the ardour of hisfrolicsome little steed to a steadier gait, varied only by anoccasional curvet, "yesterday I was made to read in the Chronicles ofthe Kings of Scotland, and lo, it was the Douglas did this and theDouglas said that, till I cried out upon Master Kennedy, 'Enough ofDouglases--I am a Stewart. Read me of the Stewarts. ' Then gave MasterKennedy a look as when he laughs in his sleeve, and shook his head. 'This book concerneth battles, ' said he, 'and not gear, plenishing, and tocher. The Douglas won for King Robert his crown, the Stewartonly married his daughter--though that, if all tales be true, was thebraver deed!' Now that was no reverent speech to me that am a Stewart, nor yet very gallant to my great-grandmother, was it, Earl Douglas?" "It was no fine courtier's flattery, at any rate, " said the Douglas, his eyes wandering hither and thither across the cavalcade which theywere now meeting, in search of the graceful figure and darkly splendidhead of the girl he loved. The Lady Sybilla was not there. "They have secluded her, " he muttered, in sharp jealous anger; "'tisall her kinsman's fault. He hath the marks of a traitor and worse. Butthey shall not spite nor flout the Douglas. " So with a countenance grave and unresponsive he saluted Livingston thetutor, who came forth to meet him. The Chancellor was expectedimmediately, for he had ridden in more rapidly by the hill way inorder that he might welcome his notable guests to the metropolitanresidence of the Kings of Scotland. The Castle of Edinburgh was at that time in the fulness of itsstrength and power. The first James had greatly enlarged andstrengthened its works defensive. He had added thirty feet to theheight of David's Tower, which now served as a watch-station over allthe rock, and in his last days he had begun to build the great hallwhich the Chancellor had but recently finished. It was here that presently the feast was set. The banquet-hall ran thewidth of the keep, and the raised dais in the centre was large enoughto seat the whole higher baronage of Scotland, among whom (as the Earlof Douglas thought with some scorn) neither of his entertainers, Crichton and Livingston, had any right to place themselves. But the question where the Lady Sybilla was bestowed soon occupied theDouglas more than any thought of his own safety or of the loyalty ofhis entertainers. Sybilla, however, was neither in the courtlycavalcade which met them at the entrance of the park, nor yet amongthe more numerous ladies who stood at the castle yett to welcome toEdinburgh the noble and handsome young lords of the South. Douglas therefore concluded that de Retz, discovering some part of thelove that was between them, or mayhap hearing of it from some spy orother at Crichton Castle, had secluded his sweetheart. He loosened hishand on the rein to lay it on the sword-hilt, as he thought of thiscruelty to a maid so pure and fair. Sholto kept his company very close behind him as they rode up theHigh-street, a gloomy defile of tall houses dotted from topmost windowto pavement with the heads of chattering goodwives, and the flutter ofhousehold clothing hung out to dry. At the first defences of the castle Douglas called Sholto and said:"Your fellows are to be lodged here on the Castle Hill. The Chancellorhath sent word that there is no room in the castle itself. For thetutor's men and King's men have already filled it to the brim. " These tidings agonised Sholto more than ever. "My lord, " he said, in a tortured whisper, "turn about your rein andwe will cut our way out even yet. Do you not see that the devils wouldseparate you from all who love you? And I shall be blamed for this inGalloway. At least, let me accompany you with half a dozen men. " "Nay, " said the Earl, "such suspicion were a poor return for theChancellor's putting himself in our hands all the days we spent withhim at his Castle of Crichton. To your lodgings, Sholto, and give Godthanks if there be therein a pretty maid or a dame complaisant, according to the wont of young squires and men-at-arms. " In this fashion rode the Earl of Douglas to take his first dinner inthe Castle of Edinburgh. And Sholto MacKim went behind him, no mansaying him nay. For his master had eyes only for one face, and that hecould not see. "But I shall find her yet, " he said over and over in his heart. It wasbut a boyish heart, and simple, too; but all so brave and high thatthe gallantest and greatest gentleman in the world had not one like toit for loyalty and courage. CHAPTER XXXIII THE BLACK BULL'S HEAD The banqueting-hall of Edinburgh Castle, but lately out of artificers'hands, was a noble oblong chamber reaching from side to side of thesouth-looking keep, begun by James I. It was decorated in the Frenchmanner with oak ceilings and panellings, all bossed and cornered withmassive silver-gilt mouldings. Save in the ordering of the repast itself there was a marked absenceof ostentation. Only a soldier or two could be seen, mostly on guardat the outer gates, and Sholto, who till now had been uneasy andfearful for his master, became gradually more reassured when he sawwith what care every want of the Earl and his brother was attended to, and if possible even forestalled. The young King was in jubilant spirits, and could scarcely bepersuaded to let the brothers Douglas remain a moment alone. He wasresolved, he said, to have his bed brought into their chamber that hemight talk to them all night of tourneys and noble deeds of arms. Never had he met with any whom he loved so much, and on their part theyoung Lords of Douglas became boys again, in this atmosphere of frankand boyish admiration. It was a state banquet to which they sat down. That is, there was nohungry crowd of hangers-on clustered below the salt. To eachgentleman was allotted a silver trenchard for his own use, instead ofone betwixt two as was the custom. The service was ordered in theFrench manner, and there was manifest through all a quiet observanceand good taste which won upon the Earl of Douglas. Nevertheless, hiseyes still continued to range this way and that through the castle, scanning each tower, glancing up at every balcony and archway, insearch of the Lady Sybilla. In the banquet-hall the little King sat on his high chair in themidst, with the brothers of Douglas one on either side of him. Hespoke loudly and confidently after the manner of a pampered boy ofhigh spirits. "I will soon come and visit you in return at the Castle of Thrieve. The Lady Sybilla hath told me how strong it is and how splendid arethe tourneys there, as grand, she swears, as those of France. " "The Lady Sybilla is peradventure gone to her own land?" venturedDouglas, not wishing to ask a more direct question. He spoke freely, however, on all other subjects with the King, laughing and talkingmostly with him, and finding little to say to the tutor Livingston orthe Chancellor, who, either from humility or from fear, had taken careto interpose half a dozen knights between himself and his late guests. "Nay, " cried the young King, looking querulously at his tutor, "but, indeed, I wot not what they have done with my pretty gossip, Sybilla;I have not seen her for three weeks, save for a moment this morning. And before she went away she promised to teach me to dance a corantoin the French manner, and the trick of the handkerchief to hide adagger in the hand. " As the Earl listened to the boy's prattle, he became more and moreconvinced that the Marshal de Retz, having in some way discoveredtheir affection for each other, had removed Sybilla out of his reach. Her letter, indeed, showed clearly that she was in fear ofill-treatment both for himself and for her. The banquet passed with courtesies much more elaborate than was usualin Scotland, but which indicated the great respect in which theDouglases were held. Between each course a servant clad in the royalcolours presented a golden salver filled with clear water for theguests to wash their hands. Through the interstices of the ceilingstrains of music filtered down from musicians hidden somewhere above, which sounded curiously soothing and far away. The Chancellor bowed and drank every few minutes to the health of theEarl and his brother across the board, while the tutor sat smilingupon all with the polish of a professional courtier. In his high seatat the table end the little King chatted incessantly of the times whenhe could do as he pleased, and when he and his cousin of Douglas wouldride together to battle and tourney, or feast together in hall. "Be sure, then, I will not keep all these grey-beard sorners aboutme, " he said, lowering his voice cautiously; "I will only have younggallant men like you and David there. But what comes here?" There was a stir among the servitors at the upper end of the room. Sholto, who stood behind his master's chair, heard the skirl of thewar-pipes approach nearer. It grew louder, more insistent, finallyalmost oppressive. The doors at either end were filled with armedmen. They filed silently into the hall in dark armour, all carryingshining Lochaber axes. Douglas leaned back in his chair, and looked nonchalantly on like aspectator of a pageant. He continued to talk to the King easily andcalmly, as if he were in his own Castle of Thrieve. But Sholto saw thewhite and ghastly look on the face of the Chancellor, and noted hishands nervously grip the table. He observed him also lean across andconfer with Livingston, who nodded like one that agrees that themoment of action has come. At the upper end of the hall were wide folding doors which till nowhad been shut. These were opened swiftly, either half falling back tothe wall. And through the archway came two servitors in black habits, carrying between them on a huge platter of silver a black bull's head, ghastly and ominous even in death, with staring eyeballs and mattedfrontlet of ensanguined hair. "Treachery!" instantly cried Sholto, and ere the men could approach hehad drawn his sword and stood ready to do battle for his lord. Forthroughout all Scotland a bull's head served at table is the symbol ofdeath. The Earl did not move or speak. He watched the progress of the men inblack, who staggered under their heavy burden. David also had risen tohis feet with his hand on his sword, but William Douglas sat still. Alarm, wonder, and anxiety chased each other across the face of theyoung King. "What is this, Chancellor--why is the room filled with armed men?" hecried. But Crichton had withdrawn himself behind the partisans of hissoldiers, and down the long table there was not a man but had risenand bared his sword. Every eye was turned upon the young Earl. A scoreof men-at-arms came forward to seize him. "Stand back on your lives!" cried Sholto, sweeping his blade about himto keep a space clear about his youthful master. But still the Earl William sat calm and unmoved, though all others hadrisen to their feet and held arms in their hands. "What means this mumming?" he said, high and clear. "If a mystery isto be played, surely it were better to put it off till after dinner. " Then through the open doorway came a voice piercing and reedy. "The play is played indeed, William of Douglas, and the lion is nowsafe in the power of the dogs. How like you our kennel, most mightylion?" It was the voice of the Chancellor Crichton. The young King came running from his place and threw his arms aboutthe Earl's neck. "I am the King, " he cried; "not one of you shall touch or hurt mycousin Douglas!" "Stand back, James, " said the tutor Livingston; "the Douglas is atraitor, and you shall never reign while he rules. He and his brothermust be tried for treason. They have claimed the King's throne, andusurped his authority. " Sholto MacKim turned about. In all that threatening array of armed menno friendly eye met his, and none of all he had trusted drew a bladefor the Douglas. Sholto stood calculating the chances. To die like aman was easy, but how to die to some purpose seemed more difficult. He saw the King with his arm about the neck of William Douglas, whoremained quietly in his place with a pale but assured countenance. It was Sholto's only chance. With his left hand he seized the youngKing by the collar of his doublet, and set the point of his sword tohis back between the shoulder-blades. "Now, " he cried, "let a man lay hand on my Lord Douglas and I willslay the King!" At this there was great consternation, and but for fear of Sholto'skeeping his word half a score would have rushed forward to theassistance of the boy. The scream of a woman from some concealedportal showed that the Queen Mother was waiting to witness thedownfall of the mighty house which, as she had been taught, alonethreatened her boy's throne. Sholto's arm was already drawn back for the thrust, when the voice ofthe Earl of Douglas was heard. He had risen to his feet, and now stoodeasy and careless as ever, with his thumb in the blue silken sashwhich girt his waist. "Sholto, " he said calmly, "you forget your place. Let the King goinstantly, and ask his Majesty's pardon. Set your sword again in itssheath. I am your lord. I dubbed you knight. Do as I command you. " Most unwillingly Sholto did as he was bidden, and the King, instead ofwithdrawing, placed himself still closer to William of Douglas. "And now, " cried the Earl, facing the array of armed men who throngedthe banquet-hall, "what would ye with the Douglas? Do ye mean mydeath, as by the Bull's Head here on the table ye would have mebelieve?" "For black treason do we apprehend you, Earl of Douglas, " creaked thevoice of the Chancellor, still speaking from behind his array ofmen-at-arms, "and because you have set yourself above the King. But weare no butchers, and trial shall ye have by your peers. " "And who in this place are the peers of the Earl of Douglas?" said theyoung man, haughtily. "I will not bandy words with you, my Lord Douglas. You areovermastered. Yield yourself, therefore, as indeed you must withoutremeed. Deliver your weapons and submit; 'tis our will. " "My brave Chancellor, " said the Earl William, still in a voice ofpleasant irony, "you have well chosen your time to shame yourself. Weare your invited guests, and the guests of the King of Scotland. Weare here unarmed, sitting at meat with you in your own house. We havecome hither unattended, trusting to the honour of these noble knightsand gentlemen. Therefore my brother and I have no swords to deliver. But if, being honourable men, you stand, as is natural, upon a nicepunctilio, I can satisfy you. " He turned again to Sholto MacKim. "Give me your sword, " he said. "'Tis better I should render it thanyou. " With great unwillingness the captain of the guard of Thrieve did as hewas bidden. The Earl reversed it in his hand and held it by the point. "And now, my Lord Chancellor, I deliver you a Douglas sword, dependingupon the word of an honourable man and the invitation of the King ofScotland. " But even so the chancellor would not advance from behind the cover ofhis soldiery, and the Earl looked around for some one to whom tosurrender. "Will you then appoint one of your knights to whom I may deliver thisweapon? Is there none who will dare to come near even the hilt of aDouglas sword? Here then, Sholto, break it over your knee and cast itupon the board as a witness against all treachery. " Sholto did as he was told, breaking his sword and casting the piecesupon the table in the place where the King of Scots had sat. "And now, my lords, I am ready, " said the Earl, and his brother Davidstood up beside him, looking as they faced the unbroken ring of theirfoes the two noblest and gallantest youths in Scotland. At this the King caught Lord William by the hand, and, lifting up hisvoice, wept aloud with the sudden breaking lamentation of a child. "My cousin, my dear cousin Douglas, " he cried, "they shall not harmyou, I swear it on my faith as a King. " At last an officer of the Chancellor's guard mustered courage toapproach the Earl of Douglas, and, saluting, he motioned him tofollow. This, with his head erect, and his usual easy grace, he did, David walking abreast of him. And Sholto, with all his heart filledwith the deadly chill of hopelessness, followed them through thesullen ranks of the traitors. And even as he went Earl Douglas looked about him every way that hemight see once more her for whose sake he had adventured within theportals of death. CHAPTER XXXIV BETRAYED WITH A KISS The earl and his brother were incarcerated in the lower chamber of theHigh Keep called David's Tower, which rose next in order eastward fromthe banqueting-hall, following the line of the battlements. Beneath, the rock on which the castle was built fell away towards theNor' Loch in a precipice so steep that no descent was to be thoughtof--and this indeed was the chief defence of the prison, for thewindow of the chamber was large and opened easily according to theFrench fashion. "I pray that you permit my young knight, Sir Sholto MacKim, toaccompany me, " said the Earl to the officer who conducted them totheir prison-house. "I have no orders concerning him, " said the man, gruffly, butnevertheless permitted Sholto to enter after the Earl and his brother. The chamber was bare save for a _prie-dieu_ in the angle of the wall, at which the Douglas looked with a strange smile upon his face. "Right _ŕ propos_, " said he; "they have need of religion in this houseof traitors. " David Douglas went to the window-seat of low stone, and bent his headinto his hands. He was but a boy and life was sweet to him, for he hadjust begun to taste the apple and to dream of the forbidden fruit. Heheld his head down and was silent a space. Then suddenly he sobbedaloud with a quick, gasping noise, startling enough in that stillplace. "For God's dear sake, David laddie, " said his brother, going over tohim, placing his hand upon his shoulder, "be silent. They will thinkthat we are afraid. " The boy stilled himself instantly at the word, and looked up at hisbrother with a pale sort of smile. "No, William, I am not afraid, and if indeed we must die I will notdisgrace you. Be never feared of that. Yet I thought on our mother'sloneliness. She will miss me sore, for she fleeched and pled with menot to come, yet I would not listen to her. " Sholto stood by the door, erect as if on duty at Thrieve. "Come and sit with us, " said the Earl William kindly to him, "we areno more master and servant, earl and esquire. We are but three youthsthat are to die together, and the axe's edge levels all. You, Sholto, are in some good chance to live the longest of the three by some halfscore of minutes. I am glad I made you a knight on the field ofhonour, Sir Sholto, for then they cannot hang you to a bough, like avarlet caught stealing the King's venison. " Sholto slowly came over to the window-seat and stood thererespectfully as before, with his arms straight at his side, feelingmore than anything else the lack of his sword-hilt to set his righthand upon. "Nay, but do as I bid you, " said the Earl, looking up at him; "sitdown, Sholto. " And Sholto sat on the window-seat and looked forth upon the lightsleaping out one after another down among the crowded gables of thetown as this and that burgher lit lamp or lantern at the nearing ofthe hour of supper. Far away over the shore-lands the narrow strip of the Forth showedamethystine and mysterious, and farther out still the coast of Fifelay in a sort of opaline haze. "I wonder, " said William Douglas, after a long pause, "what they havedone with our good lads. Had they been taken or perished we had surelyheard more noise, I warrant. Two score lads of Galloway would not giveup their arms without a tulzie for it. " "They might induce them to leave them behind, when they went out totake their pleasures among the maids of the Lawnmarket, " said Sholto. "Not their swords, " said the Earl, "it needed all your lord's commandsto make yours quit your side. I warrant these fellows will give anexcellent account of themselves. " Presently the night fell darker, and a smurr of rain drifted over fromthe edges of Pentland, mostly passing high above, but with lowerfringes that dragged, as it were, on the Castle Rock and the Hill ofCalton. The three young men were still silently looking out when suddenly fromthe darkness underneath there came a low voice. "'Ware window!" it said, "stand back there above. " To Sholto the words sounded curiously familiar, and almost withoutthinking what he did, he seized the Earl and his brother and draggedthem away from the wide space of the lattice, which opened into thesummer's night. "'Ware window!" came again the cautious voice from far below. Sholtoheard the whistle and "spat" of an arrow against the wall without. Itmust have fallen again, for the voice 'came a third time--"'Warewindow!" And on this occasion the archer was successful, guided doubtless bythe illumination of the lantern the guard had hung on a nail, andwhose flicker would outline the lattice faintly against the darknessof the wall. An arrow entered with a soft hiss. It struck beyond them with a click, and its iron point tinkled on the floor, the plaster of the oppositewall not holding it. Sholto scrambled about the floor on hands and knees till he found it. It was a common archer's arrow. A cord was fastened about it, and anote stuck in the slit along with the feather. "It is my brother Laurence, " whispered Sholto. "I warrant he isbeneath with a rope and a posse of stout fellows. We shall escape themyet. " But even as he raised the letter to read it by the faint blue flickerof the lantern, there came a cry of pain from within the castle. Itwas a woman's voice that cried, and at the sound of pleading speech insome chamber above them, William Douglas started to his feet. The words were clear enough, but in a language not understood bySholto MacKim. They seemed intelligible enough, however, to the Earl. "I knew it, " he cried; "the false hounds have imprisoned her also. Itis Sybilla's voice. God in heaven--they are torturing her!" He ran to the door and shook it vehemently. "Ho! Without there!" he cried imperiously, as if in his own Castle atThrieve. But no one paid any attention to his shouts, and presently the woman'svoice died down to a slow sobbing which was quite audible in the roombeneath, where the three young men listened. "What did she say?" asked David, presently, of his brother, who stillstood with his ear to the door. The Earl first made a gesture commanding silence, and then, hearingnothing more, he came slowly over to the window. "It is the LadySybilla, " he said, in a voice which revealed his deep emotion. "Shesaid, in the French language, 'You shall not kill him. You shall not!He trusted me and he shall not die. '" Meanwhile Sholto, knowing that there was no time to lose, had beendrawing in the cord, which presently thickened into a rope stoutenough to support the weight of a light and active youth such as anyof the three young men imprisoned in David's Tower. But the sound of the woman's tears had thrown the Earl into anexcitement so extreme that he hammered on the great bolt-studded doorwith his bare clenched hands, and cried aloud to the Chancellor andLivingston, commanding them to open to him. His first calmness seemedcompletely broken up. Meanwhile Sholto, his whole soul bent on the cord which gave theunseen Douglases a chance of saving the lives of their masters, haddrawn thirty yards of stout rope into the room. He fixed it by adouble knot, first to a ring which was let into the wall, andafterwards to the massive handle of the door itself. "Now, my lord, " he whispered, as he finished, "be pleased to gofirst. Our lads are beneath, and in the shaking of a cow's tail weshall be safe in the midst of them. " The Earl held up his hand with the quick imperative motion he used tocommand silence. The sound of the woman's voice came again from above, now quick and high, like one who makes an agonised petition, and nowin tones lower that seemed broken with sobs and lamentations. At first William Douglas did not appear to comprehend the meaning ofSholto's words, being so bent on his listening. But when the youngcaptain of the guard again reminded him that the time of their chancesfor relief was quickly passing, and that the soldiers of theChancellor might come at any moment to lead them to their doom, theEarl broke out upon him in sudden anger. "For what crawling thing do you take me, Sholto MacKim?" he cried; "Iwill not leave this place till I know what they have done with her. She trusted me, and shall I prove a recreant? I would have you knowthat I am William, Earl of Douglas, and fear not the face of anyCrichton that ever breathed. Ho--there--without!" and again he shookthe door with ineffectual anger. His only answer was the sound of that beseeching woman's voice, andthe measured tread of the sentry, whose partisan they could seeflashing in the lamplight through the narrow barred wicket, as heturned in front of their door. And it was now all in vain that Sholto pled with his master. To everyargument Lord Douglas replied, "I cannot go--it consorts not withmine honour to leave this castle so long as the Lady Sybilla is intheir hands. " Sholto told him how they could now escape, and in a week would raisethe whole of the south, returning to the siege of the castle and thedestruction of the traitors Crichton and Livingston. But even to thisthe Earl had his answer. "What--flee like a coward and leave this girl, who has loved andtrusted me, defenceless in their hands! You yourself have heard herweeping. I tell you I cannot go--I will not go. Let David and youescape! My place is here, and neither snivelling Crichton nor thatbackstairs lap-dog Livingston shall say that they took the Earl ofDouglas, and that he fled from them under cloud of night. " David Douglas had been standing by hopefully while Sholto tied therope to the rings. At his brother's words he sat down again. Williamof Douglas turned about upon him. "Go, David, I bid you. Escape, and if aught happen to me, fail not tomake the traitors pay dearly for it. " But David Douglas sat still and answered not. Then Sholto, desperateof success with his master, approached David, and with gentle forcewould have compelled him to the window. But, at the first touch of hishand, the boy thrust him away, striking him fiercely upon theshoulder. "Hands off!" he cried, "I also am a Douglas and no craven. I willabide by my brother to the end. " "No, my David, " said the Earl, turning for a moment from the doorwhere he had been again listening, "you shall not stay! You are thehope of our house. My mother would fret to death if aught happened toyou. This is not a matter which concerns you. Go, I bid you. On me itlies, and if I must pay the reckoning, why at least only I drank thewine. " "I will not;" cried the boy; "I tell you I will bide where my brotherbides and his fate shall be mine. " Then Sholto, well nigh frantic with apprehension and disappointment, went to the window and leaned out, gripping the sill with his hands. "They will not leave the castle, " he whispered as loud as he dared;"the Earl will not escape while the Lady Sybilla remains a prisonerwithin. " "God in heaven!" cried a stern voice from below which made Sholtostart, "we shall be broken first and last upon that woman. Would toGod I had slain her with my hand! Tell the Earl that if he will notcome to those that wait for him underneath the tower, I, MaliseMacKim, will come and fetch him like a child in my arms, even as I didfrom under the pine trees at Loch Roan. " And as he spoke the strain of the rope and its swaying over thewindow-sill proclaimed that the mighty form of the master armourer waseven then on the way upwards towards the dungeon of his chief. "Go back, I command you, Malise MacKim, " he said, "go back instantly. I have made up my mind. I will not escape from the Castle of Edinburghthis night. " But Malise answered not a word, only pulled more desperately on therope, till the sound of his labouring breath and grasping palms couldbe heard from side to side of the chamber. The Earl leaned further out. "Malise, " he said, calm and clear, "you see this knife. I would nothave your blood on my hands. You have been a good and faithful servantto our house. But, by the oath of a Douglas, if you come one footfarther, I will cut the rope and you shall be dashed in piecesbeneath. " The master armourer stopped--not with any fear of death upon him, butlest a stroke of his master's dirk should destroy their well-arrangedmode of escape. "O Earl William, my dear lord, hear me, " he said in a gasping voice, still hanging perilously between earth and heaven. "If I have indeedbeen a faithful servant, I beseech you come with me--for the sake ofthe house of Douglas and of your mother, a widow and alone. " "Go down, Malise MacKim, " said the Earl, more gently; "I will speakwith you only at the rope's foot. " So very unwillingly Malise went back. "Now, " said the Earl, "hearken--this will I do and no other. I willremain here and abide that which shall befall me, as is the will ofGod. I am bound by a tie that I cannot break. What life is to another, honour and his word must be to a Douglas. But I send your son Sholtoto you. I bid him ride fast to Galloway and bring all that arefaithful with speed here to Edinburgh. Go also into Douglasdale andtell my cousin William of Avondale--and if he is too late to save, Iknow well he will avenge me. " "O William Douglas, if indeed ye will neither fleech nor drive, I prayyou for the sake of the great house to send your brother David, thatthe Douglases of the Black be not cut off root and branch. Remember, your mother is sore set on the lad. " "I will not go, " cried David, as he heard this; "by the saints I willstand by my brother's shoulder, though I be but a boy! I will not goso much as a step, and if by force ye stir me I will cry for theguard!" By this time the young David was leaning half out of the window, andalmost shouting out his words down to the unseen Douglases beneath. "Go, Sholto, " said the Earl, setting his hand on his squire'sshoulder. "You alone can ride to Galloway without drawing rein. Goswiftly and bring back every true lad that can whang bow, or garsword-iron whistle. The Douglas must drie the Douglas weird. I wouldhave made you a great man, Sir Sholto, but if you get a new master, hewill surely do that which I had not time to perform. " "Come, Sholto, " said his father, "there is a horse at the outer port. I fear the Crichton's men are warned. As it is we shall have to fightfor it. " Sholto still hesitated, divided between obedience and grief. "Sholto MacKim, " said the Earl, "if indeed you owe me aught of love orservice, go and do that thing which I have laid upon you. Bear acourteous greeting from me to your sweetheart Maud, and a kiss to ourMaid Margaret. And now haste you and begone!" Sholto bent a moment on his knee and kissed the hand of his youngmaster. His voice was choked with sobs. The Earl patted him on theshoulder. "Dinna greet, laddie, " he said, in the kindly country speechwhich comes so meltingly to all Galloway folk in times of distress, gentle and simple alike, "dinna greet. If one Douglas fall in thebreach, there stands ever a better behind him. " "But never one like you, my lord, my lord!" said Sholto. The Earl raised him gently, led him to the window, and himselfsteadied the rope by which his squire was to descend. "Go!" he said; "honour keeps the Douglas here, and his brother bideswith him--since not otherwise it may be. But the honour of obediencesends Sholto MacKim to the work that is given him!" Then, after the captain of his guard had gone out into the dark anddisappeared down the rope, the Earl only waited till the tensionslackened before stooping and cutting the cord at the point ofjuncture with the iron ring. "And now, Davie lad, " he said, setting an arm about his brother'sneck, "there are but you and me for it, and I think a bit prayer wouldnot harm either of us. " So the two young lads, being about to die, kneeled down togetherbefore the cross of Him who was betrayed with a kiss. CHAPTER XXXV THE LION AT BAY The morning had broken broad and clear from the east when the door ofthe prison-house was opened, and a seneschal appeared. He saluted thebrothers, and in a shaking voice summoned them to come forth and betried for offences of treason and rebellion against the King and hisministers. William of Douglas waved a hand to him, but answered nothing to thesummons. He wasted no words upon one who merely did as he was bidden. All night the brothers had sat looking out on the city hummingsleeplessly beneath them, till the light slowly dawned over the Forthand away to the eastward Berwick Law stood dwarfed and clear. At firstthey had sat apart, but as the hours stole on David came a littlenearer and his hand sought that of his brother, clasped it, and abodeas it had been contented. The elder brother returned the pressure. "David, " he said, "if perish we must, at least you and I will showthem how Douglases can die. " So when they rose to follow the seneschal who summoned them, as theyleft the chamber of detention and the clanking guard fell in behindthem, Earl William put his hand affectionately on his young brother'sshoulder and kept it there. In this wise they came into the greathall wherein yester-even the banquet of treachery had been served. Thedais had been removed to the upper end of the room, and upon it in thefurred robes of judges of the realm, there sat on either side of theempty throne Crichton the Chancellor and Sir Alexander Livingston. Behind were crowded groups of knights, pages, men-at-arms, and all thehangers-on of a court. But of men of dignity and place only theMarshal de Retz, ambassador of the King of France, was present. He sat alone on a high seat ranged crosswise upon the dais. The floorin the centre of the hall was kept clear for the entrance of thebrothers of Douglas. Crichton and Livingston looked uneasily at each other as the feet ofthe guard conducting the prisoners were heard in the corridor without, and with a quick, apprehensive wave of his hand Crichton motioned thearmed men of his guard closer about him, and gave their leaderdirections in a hushed voice behind his palm. The seneschal who had summoned them strode in first, and then after asufficient interval entered the young Lords of Douglas, William andDavid his brother. The elder still kept one hand affectionately on theshoulder of the younger. His other was set as usual in the silken beltwhich he wore about his waist, and he walked carelessly, with a highair and an easy step, like one that goes in expectantly to a pleasantentertainment. But as soon as the brothers perceived in whose presence they were, anair of pride came over their faces and stiffened their figures intothe sterner aspect of warriors who stand on the field of battle. Some three paces before the steps of the dais on which sat theself-constituted judges was arranged a barrier of strong wooden poststipped with iron, and two soldiers with drawn swords were on guard ateither end. The Douglases stood silent, haughtily awaiting the first words ofaccusation. And the face of young David was to the full as haughty andcontemptuous as that of Earl William himself. It was the Chancellor who spoke first, in his high rasping creak. "William, Earl of Douglas, and you David, called the Master ofDouglas, " he began, "you are summoned hither by the King's authorityto answer for many crimes of treason against his royal person--forrebellion also and the arming of forces against his authority--forhigh speeches and studied contempt of those who represent hissovereign Majesty in this realm, for treasonable alliances with rebellords, and above all for swearing allegiance to another monarch, evento the King of France. What have you to say to these charges?" The Earl of Douglas swept his eyes across the dais from side to sidewith a slow contempt which made the Chancellor writhe in his chair. Then after a long pause he deigned to reply, but rather like a kingwho grants a favour than like one accused before judges in whose handsis the power of life and death. "I see, " said he, "two knights before me on a high seat, one theKing's tutor, the other his purse-bearer. I have yet to learn whoconstituted them judges of any cause whatsoever, still less of aughtthat concerns William Douglas, Duke of Touraine, Earl of Douglas, hereditary Lieutenant-Governor of the realm of Scotland. " And he kept his eyes upon them with a straight forth-looking glance, palpably embarrassing to the traitors on the dais. "Earl Douglas, " said the Chancellor again, "pray remember that you arenot now in Castle Thrieve. Your six thousand horsemen wait not in thecourtyard out there. Learn to be more humble and answer to the thingswhereof you are accused. Do you desire that witness should bebrought?" "Of what need are witnesses? I own no court or jurisdiction. I haveheard no accusations!" said the Earl William. The Chancellor motioned with his hand, whereupon Master Robert Berry, a procurator of the city, advanced and read a long parchment which setforth in phrase and detail of legality twenty accusations against theEarl, --of treason, rebellion, and manifest oppression. When he had finished the Chancellor said, "And now, Earl Douglas, whatanswer have you to these things?" "Does it matter at all what I answer?" asked the Earl, succinctly. "I do not bandy words with you, " said the Chancellor; "I order you tomake your pleading, or stand within your danger. " "And yet, " said William Douglas, gravely, "words are all that you darebandy with me. Even if I honoured you by laying aside my dignities andconsented to break a lance with you, you would refuse to afford metrial by battle, which is the right of every peer accused. " "'Tis a barbarous custom, " said the Chancellor; "we will try your caseupon its merit. " The Earl laughed a little mocking laugh. "It will be somewhat safer, " said he, "but haste you and get the shamdone with. I plead nothing. I do not even tell you that you lie. Whatdoth one expect of a gutter-dog but that it should void the garbage ithath devoured? But I do ask you, Marshal de Retz, as a brave soldierand the representative of an honourable King, what you have done withthe Lady Sybilla?" The Marshal de Retz smiled--a smile so chill, cruel, hard, that thevery soldiers on guard, seeing it, longed to slay him on the spot. "May I, in return, ask my Lord Earl of Douglas and Duke of Tourainewhat is that to him?" he said, with sneering emphasis upon the titles. "It matters to me, " replied William Douglas, boldly, "more than life, and almost as much as honour. The Lady Sybilla did me the grace totell me that she loved me. And I in turn am bound to her in life anddeath. " The Chancellor and the tutor broke into laughter, but the marshalcontinued to smile his terrible smile of determinate evil. "Listen, " he said at last, "hear this, my Lord of Touraine; ever sincewe came to this kingdom, and, indeed, long before we left the realm ofFrance, the Lady Sybilla intended nothing else than your deception anddestruction. Poor dupe, do you not yet understand? She it was thatcozened you with fair words. She it was that advised you to comehither that we might hold you in our hands. For her sake you obeyed. She was the willing bait of the trap your foes set for you. What thinkyou of the Lady Sybilla now?" William of Douglas did not answer in words, but as the marshal ceasedspeaking, he drew himself together like a lithe animal that sways thisway and that before springing. His right hand dropped softly from hisbrother's shoulder upon the hilt of his own dagger. Then with one sudden bound he was over the barrier and upon the dais. Almost his blade was at the marshal's throat, and but for the crossedpartisans of two guards who stood on either side of de Retz, he had diedthere and then by the dagger of William Douglas. As it was, the youthwas brought to a stand with his breast pressed vainly against the steelpoints, and paused there crying out in fury, "Liar and toad! Come outfrom behind these varlets that I may slay thee with my hand. " A score of men-at-arms approached from behind, and forced the youngman back to his place. "Bring in the Lady Sybilla, " said the marshal, still smiling, whilethe judges sat silent and afraid at the anger of one man. And even while the Earl stood panting after his outburst of furiousanger, they opened the door at the back of the dais and through itthere entered the Lady Sybilla. Instantly the eyes of William Douglasfixed themselves upon her, but she did not raise hers nor look at him. She stood at the farther side at the edge of the dais, her handsjoined in front of her, and her hair streamed down her back and fellin waves over her white dress. An angel of light coming through the open door of heaven could nothave appeared more innocent and pure. The Marshal de Retz turned towards his sister-in-law, and, with hiseyes fixed upon hers and with the same pitiless chill in them, he saidin a low tone, "Look at me. " The girl raised her eyes slowly, and, as it had been, reluctantly, andin them, instead of the meek calm of an angel, there appeared theterror and dismay of a lost soul that listens to its doom. "Sybilla, " hissed rather than spoke de Retz, "isit true that ever since by the lakeside of Carlinwark you met the Earlof Douglas you have deceived him and sought his doom?" "I care not to hear the answer, " said the young man, "even did Ibelieve that which you by your power may compel her to say. Unfaith inanother is not unfaith in me. I am bound to this lady in love andhonour--aye, even unto death, if that be her will!" "I have, indeed, deceived him!" replied the girl, slowly, the wordsseeming to be forced from her one by one. "You hear, William of Douglas!" said the marshal, turning upon theyoung man, who stood still and motionless, never taking his eyes offthe slender figure in white. The marshal continued his pitiless questioning. "At Castle Thrieve you persuaded him to follow you to Crichton andafterwards to Edinburgh, knowing well that you brought him to hisdeath. " "It is true!" said the girl, with a voice like one speaking out of thegrave itself. "You hear, William of Douglas!" said the marshal. "And at Castle Crichton you played the play to the end. With falsecozening words you deceived this young man. You led him on with loveon your lips and hate in your heart. You kissed him with the Judaskiss. You led his soul captive to death by the drawing of your eyes. " In a voice that could hardly be heard the girl replied, her wholefigure fixed and turned to stone by the intensity of her tormentor'sgaze. _"I did these things! I am accursed!"_ The ambassador turned with a fleering triumph. "You hear, William of Douglas, " he said, "you hear what your true lovesays!" Then it was that, with the calm air and steady voice of a greatgentleman, William Douglas answered, "I hear, but I do not believe. " A spasm of joy passed over the countenance of the Lady Sybilla. Shehalf sprang towards her lover as if to clasp him in her arms. But in the midst, between intent and act, she restrained herself. "No, I am not worthy, " she said. And again, and lower, like alamentation, "I am not worthy!" Then, while all watched eagerly, the marshal rose from his seat to hisfull height. "Girl--look at me!" he cried in a loud and terrible voice. But Sybilladid not seem to hear him. She was looking at the Earl, and her eyes were great and grey andvague. "Listen, my true lord, and then hate me if you will, " she said;"listen, William of Douglas. Never before have I found in all theworld one man true to the core. I did not believe that such an onelived. Hear this and then turn from me in loathing. "For the sake of this man's life, forfeit ten times over" (shepointed, as she spoke, at the marshal), "to whom, by the powers ofhell, my soul is bound, I came at the bidding of the King of Franceand of this man, my master, to compass the destruction of the Earl ofDouglas. Our King's son desired his duchy, and promised to this manpardon for his evil deeds. I came to satisfy them both. On my guiltyhead be the punishment. It is true that I cozened and led you on. Itis true that at Castle Thrieve I deceived you, knowing well that whichwould happen. I knew to what you would follow me, and for the sake ofthe evil wrought by your fathers, I was glad. But afterwards atCrichton, when, in the woods by the waterside, I told you that I lovedyou, I did not lie. I did love you then. And by God's grace I do loveyou now--yea, before all men I declare it. Once for a season ofglorious forgetting, all too brief, I was yours to love, now I amyours to hate and to despise. I tried to save you, but though you hadmy warning you would not go back or forget me. Now it is too late!" As she spoke over the face of William Douglas there had come aglow--the red blood flooding up and routing the white determinedpallor of his cheek. "My lady, " he answered her, gently, "be not grieved for a little thingthat is past. That you love me truly is enough. I ask for no more, least of all for pity. I have not lived long. I have not had timeallotted me wherein to do great things, but for your sake I can die aswell as any! You have given me of your love, and of the flowerthereof. I am glad. That you have loved me was my crown of life. Nowit remains but to pay a little price soon paid, for a joy exceedinggreat. " But the Chancellor had had enough of this. He rose, and, stretchingforth his hand towards the barrier, he said: "William of Douglas, youand your brother are condemned to instant death as enemies of the Kingand his ministers. Soldiers, do your duty. Lead them forth to theblock!" And with these words he left the dais, followed by Sir AlexanderLivingston. The girl stood in the place whence she had spoken her lastwords. Then, as the men-at-arms went shamefacedly to take the Earl bythe arm, she suddenly threw herself across the platform, leapedlightly over the barrier, and fell into his arms. "William, once I would have betrayed you, " she said, "but now I loveyou. I will die with you--or by the great God I will live to avengeyou. " "Hush, sweetheart, " said William Douglas, touching her brow gentlywith his lips, and putting her into the arms of an officer of thecourt whom her uncle had sent to remove her. "Fear not for me! Deathis swift and easy. I expected nothing else. That you love me isenough! Dear love, fare thee well!" But the girl heard him not. She had fainted in the arms that held her. Yet the Marshal de Retz had still more for her to suffer. He stoodbeside her and dashed water upon her till she awoke, that she mightsee that which remained to be done. * * * * * It was a scene dreary beyond all power of words to tell it, when intothe courtyard of the Castle of Edinburgh they brought the two nobleyoung men forth to die. The sun had long risen, but the first flush ofbroad morning sunshine still lingered upon the low platform on whichstood the block, and beside it the headsman sullenly waiting to do hisappointed work. The young Lords of Douglas came out looking brave and handsome asbridegrooms on a day of betrothing. William had once more his hand onDavid's shoulder, his other rested carelessly on his thigh as hiscustom was. The brothers were bareheaded, and to the eyes of those wholooked on they seemed to be conversing together of light matters oflove and ladies' favours. High above upon a balcony, hung like an iron cage upon the castlewall, appeared the Chancellor and the tutor. The young King was withthem, weeping and crying out, "Do nothing to my dear cousins--Icommand you--I am the King!" But the tutor roughly bade him be still, telling him that he wouldnever reign if these young men lived, and presently another came thereand stood beside him. The Marshal de Retz it was, who, with a fiendishsmile upon his sleek parchment face, conducted the Lady Sybilla to seethe end. But it was a good end to see, and nobler far than most livesthat are lived to fourscore years. The brothers embraced as they came to the block, kneeled down, andsaid a short prayer like Christians of a good house. So great wastheir enemies' haste that they were not allowed even a priest toshrive them, but they did what they could. The executioner motioned first to David. An attendant brought him theheading cup of wine, which it was the custom to offer to those aboutto die upon the scaffold. "Drink it not, " said Earl William, "lest they say it was drugged. " And David Douglas bowed his head upon the block, being only in thefifteenth year of his age. "Farewell, brother, " he said, "be not long after me. It is a darksomeroad to travel so young. " "Fear not, Davie lad, " said William Douglas, tenderly, "I willovertake you ere you be through the first gate. " He turned a little aside that he might not see his brother die, andeven as he did so he saw the Lady Sybilla lean upon the balcony palerthan the dead. Then when it came to his turn they offered the Earl William also theheading cup filled with the rich wine of Touraine, his own fairprovince that he was never to see. He lifted the cup high in his right hand with a knightly and courtlygesture. Looking towards the balcony whereon stood the Lady Sybilla, he bowed to her. "I drink to you, my lady and my love, " he cried, in a voice loud andclear. Then, touching but the rim of the goblet with his lips, he poured outthe red wine upon the ground. * * * * * And thus passed the gallantest gentleman and truest lover in whom Godever put heart of grace to live courteously and die greatly, keepinghis faith in his lady even against herself, and holding death itselfsweet because that in death she loved him. CHAPTER XXXVI THE RISING OF THE DOUGLASES It was upon the Earl's own charger, Black Darnaway, that Sholto rodesouthward to raise to their chief's assistance the greatest andcompactest clan that ever, even in Scotland, had done the bidding ofone man. The young man's heart was high and hopeful within him. The King'sguardians dared not, so he told himself, let aught befall the puissantDouglases in the Castle of Edinburgh, without trial and under cover ofthe most courteous hospitality. "Try the Earl of Douglas!" so Sholto thought within him. He laughed atthe notion. "Why, Earl William could by a word bring a hundredthousand men of Galloway and the Marches to make a fitting jury. " So he meditated, his thoughts running fast and fiery to the beating ofBlack Darnaway's feet as he climbed the heathery slopes which ledtowards Douglasdale. Day was breaking as he rode down to the town ofLanark yet asleep and smokeless in the caller airs of the morn. At thegates of this frontier town he delivered his first summons offeudality. For the burghers of Lanark were liegemen of the Douglasesof Douglasdale, and were (though not with much good-will) bound tofurnish service at call. Sholto had some difficulty in making himself heard athwart theponderous wooden gates, bossed with leather and studded with iron. Atfirst he shouted angrily to the silences, but presently nearer andnearer came a bellow as of a brazen bull, thunderous and far echoing. "Fower o' the clock and a braw, braw morning. " It was Grice Elshioner, watchman of the town of Lanark, evidencing tothe magistrates and lieges thereof that he was earning his threeshillings in the week--a handsome wage in these hard times, and onewell able to provide belly-timber for himself and also for the wifeand weans who, dwelling in a close off the High-street, were called byhis name. Sholto thundered again upon the rugged portal. "Open there! Open, I say, in the name of the Earl of Douglas!" "Fower o' the morning! Lord, what's a' the steer? In the name o' theYerl o' Douglas! But wha kens that it isna the English? Na, na, GriceElshioner opens not to every night-raking loon that likes to cry thename o' the Yerl o' Douglas ower oor toon wa'!" And Grice the valorous would have taken him off with a fresh, sleep-dispelling bellow had it not been that he heard himself summonedin a voice that brooked no delay. "Open, varlet of a watchman, or by Saint Bride I will have youswinging in half an hour from the bars of your own portcullis. I whospeak am Sholto MacKim, captain of the Earl's guard. Every liegeman inthe town must arm, mount, and ride this instant to Edinburgh. I giveyou fair warning. You hear my words, I will not enter your rascaltown. But if so much as one be wanting at the muster, I swear in thename of my master that his house shall be burned with fire and razedto the ground, and his wife be a widow or ever the cock craw onanother Sabbath morn!" And without waiting for a reply Sholto laid the reins upon the neck ofBlack Darnaway and rode on southward up Douglas Water to the home nestof the lordly race. And behind him, with a wail in it, blared through the narrow streetsthe stormy voice of Grice Elshioner, watchman of Lanark, "Wauken ye, wauken ye, burgesses a'! The Douglas hath sent to bid ye mount andride. " The _birr_ of the war drum saluted Sholto's ears ere he had turned thecorner of the town parks. Then came the answering shouts of theburghers who thrust inquiring and indignant heads out of gable windowsand turret speering-holes. "_Birr!_" continued the undaunted and insistent town drum. "Harness your backs! Fill your bellies, and stand ready! The Douglashas need o' ye, lieges a'!" cried the sonorous voice of the watch. Sholto smiled as he listened. "I have at least set them on the alert. They will join the Douglasdalemen as they pass by, or we will show them reason why. But they ofLanark are ill-set town-ward men, and of no true leal heart, save anit be to their own coffers. Yet will they march with us for fear ofthe harrying hand and the burning roof tree. " The sun rose fair on the battlements of Douglas Castle as Sholto rodeup to the level mead, whereon a little company of men was exercising. He could hear the words of command cried gruffly in the broad Gallowayspeech. Landless Jock was drilling his spearmen, and as the shiningtriple line of points dropped to the "ready to receive, " the oldknight and former captain of the Earl's guard came forward a littleway to welcome his successor with what grace was at his command. "Eh, siree, and what has brocht sic a braw young knight and grandfrequenter o' courts sae far as Douglas Castle? Could ye no even letpuir Landless Jock hae the tilt-yaird here to exercise his handfu' in, and keep his auld banes a wee while frae the rust and the greenmould?" But even as the crusty old soldier spoke these words, the whiteanxiety in Sholto's face struck through his half-humorous complaint, and the words died on his lips in a perturbed "What is't--what is'tava, laddie?" Sholto told him in the fewest words. "The Yerl and Dawvid in the power o' their hoose's enemies. BlessedSaint Anthony, and here was I flighterin' and ragin' aboot mynaethings. Here, lads, blaw the horn and cry the slogan. Fetch thehorses frae the stall and stand ready in your war gear within tenminutes by the knock. Aye, faith, will we raise Douglasdale! Gang yourways to Gallowa'--there shall not a man bide at hame this day. Certes, we wull that! Ca' in the by-gaun at Lanark--aye, lad, and, gin therascals are no willing or no ready, we will hang the provost andmagistrates at their ain door-cheeks to learn them to bide frae thecried assembly o' their liege lord!" Sholto had done enough in Douglasdale. He turned north again on a yetmore important errand. It was forenoon full and broad when he haltedbefore the little town of Strathaven, upon which the Castle ofAvondale looks down. It seemed of the greatest moment that theAvondale Douglases should know that which had befallen their cousin. For no suspicion of treachery within the house and name of Douglasitself touched with a shade of shadow the mind of Sholto MacKim. He thundered at the town-ward port of the castle (to which a steepascent led up from a narrow vennel), where presently the outer guardsoon crowded about him, listening to his story and already fingeringbowstring and examining rope-matches preparatory to the expected marchupon Edinburgh. "I have not time to waste, comrades; I would see my lords, " saidSholto. "I must see them instantly. " And even as he spoke there on the steps before him appeared the dark, handsome face and tall but slightly stooping figure of William Douglasof Avondale. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, and hisserious thought-weighted brow bent upon the concourse about Sholto. With a push of his elbows this way and that, the young captain of theEarl's guard opened a road through the press. In short, emphatic sentences he told his tale, and at the name ofprisonment and treachery to his cousins the countenance of WilliamDouglas grew stern and hard. His face twitched as if the news camevery near to him. He did not answer for a moment, but stood biting hislips and glooming upon Sholto, as though the young man had been aprisoner waiting sentence of pit or gallows for evil doing. "I must see James concerning this ill news, " he said when Sholto hadfinished telling him of the Black Bull's Head at the Chancellor'sbanquet-table. He turned to go within. "My lord, " said Sholto, "will you give me another horse, and letDarnaway rest in your stables? I must instantly ride south again toraise Galloway. " "Order out all the horses which are ready caparisoned, " commandedWilliam of Avondale, "and do you, Captain Sholto, take your choice ofthem. " He went within forthwith and there ensued a pause filled with thesnorting and prancing of steeds, as, mettlesome with oats and hay, they issued from their stalls, or with the grass yet dewy about theirnoses were led in from the field. Darnaway took his leave of Sholtowith a backward neigh of regret, as if to say he was not yet tired ofgoing on his master's service. Then presently on the terrace above appeared lazy Lord James, busilybuckling the straps of his body-armour and talking hotly the whilewith his brother William. "I care not even whether our father--" he cried aloud ere, with arestraining hand upon his wrist, his elder brother could succeed instopping him. "Hush, James, " he said, "at least be mindful of those that standaround. " "I care not, I tell you, William, " cried the headstrong youth, squaring his shoulders as he was wont to do before a fight. "I tellyou that you and I are no traitors to our name, and who meddles withour coz, Will of Thrieve, hath us to reckon with!" William of Avondale said nothing, but held out his hand with a slow, determinate gesture. Said he, "An it were the father that begat us. "Whereat, with all the impetuousness of his race and nature, Jamesdashed his palm into that of his brother. "Whiles, William, " he cried, "ye appear clerkish and overcautious, andI break out and miscall ye for no Douglas, when ye will not spend yoursiller like a man and are afraid of the honest pint stoup. But at theheart's heart ye are aye a Douglas--and though the silly gapingcommons like ye not so well as they like me, ye are the best o' us, for all that. " So it came to pass that within the space of half an hour the AvondaleDouglases had sent men to the four airts, young Hugh Douglas himselfriding west, while James stirred the folk of Avondale and Strathavon, and in all the courtyards and streets of the little feudal bourg therebegan the hum and buzz of the war assembly. Lord William went with Sholto to see staunch Darnaway duly stabled, and to approve the horse which was to bear the messenger to the southwithout halt, now that his mission was accomplished in the west. Whenthey came out Sholto's riding harness had been transferred to a noblegrey steed large enough to carry even the burly James, let alone theslim captain of the archer guard of Thrieve. In the court, ranked and ready, bridle to bridle were ranged theknights and squires in waiting about the Castle of Avondale, while outon a level green spot on the edge of the moor gathered the denserarray of the townfolk with spears and partisans. In an hour the Avondale Douglases were ready to ride to the assistanceof their cousins. Alas, that Earl William would take no advice, forhad these and others gone in with him to the fatal town, there wouldhave been no Black Bull's Head on the Chancellor's dinner table in thebanqueting-hall of Edinburgh Castle. CHAPTER XXXVII A STRANGE MEETING It was approaching the evening of the third day after riding forthupon his mission when Sholto, sleepless yet quite unconscious ofweariness, approached the loch of Carlinwark and the cottage of BrawnyKim. West and south he had raised the Douglas country as it had neverbeen raised before. And now behind him every armiger and squire, everyspearman and light-foot archer, was hasting Edinburgh-ward, eager tobe first to succour the young and headstrong chief of his great house. Sholto had ridden and cried the slogan as was his duty, withoutallowing his mind to dwell over much upon whether all might not arrivetoo late. And ever as he rode out of village or across the desolatemoors from castle to fortified farmhouse, it seemed that not he butsome other was upon this quest. Something sterner and harder stirred in his breast. Light-heartedSholto MacKim, the careless lad of the jousting day, the proud youngcaptain of the Earl's guard, was dead with all his vanity. And in hisplace a man rode southward grim and determined, with vengeful angersa-smoulder in his bosom, --hunger, thirst, love, the joy of living andthe fear of death all being swallowed up by deadly hatred of those whohad betrayed his master. Maud Lindesay was doubtless within a few miles of Sholto, yet hescarcely gave even his sweetheart a thought as he urged his weary greyover the purple Parton moors towards the loch of Carlinwark and thelittle hamlet nestling along its western side under the ancient thorntrees of the Carlin's hill. He rode down over the green and empty Crossmichael braes on which thebroom pods were crackling in the afternoon sunshine, through hollowswhere the corn lingered as though unwilling to have done with such ascene of beauty, and find itself mewed in dusty barns, ground inmills, or close pressed in thatched rick. He breasted the long smoothrise and entered the woods which encircle the bright lakelet ofCarlinwark, the pearl of all southland Scottish lochs. With a strange sense of detachment he looked down upon the green swardbetween him and his mother's gable end, upon which as a child he hadwandered from dawn to dusk. Then it was nearly as large as the world, and the grass was most comfortable to bare feet. There were childrenplaying upon it now, even as there had been of old, among them his ownlittle sister Magdalen, whose hair was spun gold, and her eyes blue asthe forget-me-not on the marshes of the Isle Wood. The children weredressed in white, five little girls in all, as for a festal day, andtheir voices came upward to Sholto's ear through the arches of thegreat beeches which studded the turf with pavilions of green shade, tenderly as they had done to that of William Douglas in thespring-time of the year. The minor note, the dying fall of the innocent voices, tugged at hisheartstrings. He could hear little Magdalen leading the chorus: _"Margaret Douglas, fresh and fair, A bunch of roses she shall wear, Gold and silver by her side, I know who's her bride. "_ It was at "Fair Maid" they were playing, the mystic dance of Southlandmaidenhood, at whose vestal rites no male of any age was everpermitted to be present. The words broke in upon the gloom whichoppressed Sholto's heart. Momentarily he forgot his master and sawMaud Lindesay with the little Margaret Douglas of whom the childrensang, once again gathering the gowans on the brae sides of Thrieve orperilously reaching out for purple irises athwart the ditches of theIsle. _"Take her by the lily-white hand, Lead her o'er the water; Give her kisses, one, two, three, For she's a lady's daughter. "_ As Sholto MacKim listened to the quaint and moving lullaby, suddenlythere came into the field of his vision that which stiffened him intoa statue of breathing marble. For without clatter of accoutrement or tramp of hoof, withoutcompanion or attendant, a white palfrey had appeared through the greenarches of the woodlands. A girl was seated upon the saddle, swayingwith gentle movement to the motion of her steed. At the sight of herfigure as she came nearer a low cry of horror and amazement broke fromSholto's lips. It was the Lady Sybilla. Yet he knew that he had left her behind him in Edinburgh, the sirentemptress of Earl Douglas, the woman who had led his master into thepower of the enemy, she for whose sake he had refused the certaintyof freedom and life. Anger against this smiling enchantress suddenlysurged up in Sholto's heart. "Halt there--on your life!" he cried, and urged his wearied steedforward. Like dry leaves before a winter wind, the children weredispersed every way by the gust of his angry shout. But the maiden onthe palfrey either heeded not or did not hear. Whereupon Sholto rode furiously crosswise to intercept her. He wouldlearn what had befallen his master. At least he would avenge him uponone--the chiefest and subtlest of his enemies. But not till he hadcome within ten paces did the Lady Sybilla turn upon him the fulnessof her regard. Then he saw her face. It broke upon him sudden as thesight of imminent hell to one sure of salvation. He had expected tofind there gratified ambition, sated lust, exultant pride, cruelestvengeance. He saw instead as it had been the face of an angel cast outof heaven, or perhaps, rather, of a martyr who has passed through thetorture chamber on her way to the place of burning. The sight stopped Sholto stricken and wavering. His anger fell fromhim like a cloak shed when the sun shines in his strength. The Lady Sybilla's face showed of no earthly paleness. Marble white itwas, the eyes heavy with weeping, purple rings beneath accentuatingthe horror that dwelt eternally in them. The lips that had been as thebow of Apollo were parted as though they had been singing the dirge ofone beloved, and ever as she rode the tears ran down her cheeks andfell on her white robe, and lower upon her palfrey's mane. She looked at Sholto when he came near, but not as one who sees orrecognises. Rather, as it were, dumb, drunken, besotted with grief, looked forth the soul of the Lady Sybilla upon the captain of theDouglas guard. She heeded not his angry shout, for another voice rangin her ears, speaking the knightliest words ever uttered by a manabout to die. Sholto's sword was raised threateningly in his hand, butSybilla saw another blade gleam bright in the morning sun ere it fellto rise again dimmed and red. Therefore she checked not her steed, norturned aside, till Sholto laid his fingers upon her bridle-rein andleaped quickly to the ground, sword in hand, leaving his own beast towander where it would. "What do you here?" he cried. "Where is my master? What have they doneto him? I bid you tell me on your life!" Sholto's voice had no chivalrous courtesy in it now. The time for thathad gone by. He lowered his sword point and there was tense iron inthe muscles of his arm. He was ready to kill the temptress as he woulda beautiful viper. The Lady Sybilla looked upon him, but in a dazed fashion, like one whorests between the turns of the rack. In a little while she appeared torecognise him. She noted the sword in his hand, the death in hiseye--and for the first time since the scene in the courtyard ofEdinburgh Castle, she smiled. Then the fury in Sholto's heart broke suddenly forth. "Woman, " he cried, "show me cause why I should not slay you. For, byGod, I will, if aught of harm hath overtaken my master. Speak, I bidyou, speak quickly, if you have any wish to live. " But the Lady Sybilla continued to smile--the same dreadful, mockingsmile--and somehow Sholto, with his weapon bare and his arm nerved tothe thrust, felt himself grow weak and helpless under the stillnessand utter pitifulness of her look. "You would kill me--kill _me_, you say--" the words came low andthrilling forth from lips which were as those of the dead whose chinhas not yet been bound about with a napkin, "ah, would that you could!But you cannot. Steel will not slay, poison will not destroy, norwater drown Sybilla de Thouars till her work be done!" Sholto escaped from the power of her eye. "My master--" he gasped, "my master--is he well? I pray you tell me. " Was it a laugh he heard in answer? Rather a sound, not of human mirthbut as of a condemned spirit laughing deep underground. Then again thelow even voice replied out of the expressionless face. "Aye, your master is well. " "Ah, thank God, " burst forth Sholto, "he is alive. " The Lady Sybilla moved her hand this way and that with the gesture ofa blind man groping. "Hush, " she said, "I only said that he was well. And he is well. As Iam already in the place of torment, I know that there is a heaven forthose who die as William Douglas died. " Sholto's cry rang sudden, loud, despairing. "Dead--dead--Earl William dead--my master dead!" He dropped the palfrey's rein, which till now he had held. His swordfell unheeded on the turf, and he flung himself down in an agony ofboyish grief. But from her white palfrey, sitting still where she was, the maiden watched the paroxysms of his sorrow. She was dry eyed now, and her face was like a mask cut in snow. Then as suddenly recalling himself, Sholto leaped from the ground, snatched up his sword, and again passionately advanced upon the LadySybilla. "You it was who betrayed him, " he cried, pointing the blade at herbreast; "answer if it were not so!" "It is true I betrayed him, " she answered calmly. "You whom he loved--God knows how unworthily--" "God knows, " she said simply and calmly. "You betrayed him to his death. Why then should not I kill you?" Again she smiled upon him that disarming, hopeless, dreadful smile. "Because you cannot kill me. Because it were too crowning a mercy tokill me. Because, for three inches of that blade in my heart, I wouldbless you through the eternities. Because I must do the work thatremains--" "And that work is--?" "Vengeance!!" Sholto was silent, trying to piece things together. He found it hardto think. He was but a boy, and experience so strange as that of theLady Sybilla was outside him. Yet vaguely he felt that her emotion wasreal, more real perhaps than his own instinct of crude slaying--thedesire of the wasp whose nest has been harried to sting the firstcomer. This woman's hatred was something deadlier, surer, morepersistent. "Vengeance--" he said at last, scarce knowing what he said, "whyshould you, who betrayed him, speak of avenging him?" "Because, " said the Lady Sybilla, "I loved him as I never thought tolove man born of woman. Because when the fiends of the pit tie me limbto limb, lip to lip, with Judas who sold his master with a kiss, whenthey burn me in the seventh hell, I shall remember and rejoice that tothe last he loved me, believed in me, gloried in his love for me. AndGod who has been cruel to me in all else, will yet do this thing forme. He will not let William Douglas know that I deceived him or thathe trusted me in vain. " "But the Vengeance that you spoke of--what of that?" said Sholto, dwelling upon that which was uppermost in his own thought. "Aye, " said the Lady Sybilla, "that alone can be compassed by me. ForI am bound by a chain, the snapping of which is my death. To him who, in a far land, devised all these things, to the man who plotted thefall of the Douglas house--to Gilles de Retz, Marshal of France, I ambound. But--I shall not die--even you cannot kill me, till I havebrought that head that is so high to the hempen cord, and deliveredthe foul fiend's body to the fires of both earth and hell. " "And the Chancellor Crichton--the tutor Livingston--what of them?"urged Sholto, like a Scot thinking of his native traitors. The Lady Sybilla waved a contemptuous hand. "These are but lesser rascals--they had been nothing without theirmaster and mine. You of the Douglas house must settle with them. " "And why have you returned to this country of Galloway?" said Sholto. "And why are you thus alone?" "I am here, " said the Lady Sybilla, "because none can harm me with mywork undone. I travel alone because it suits my mood to be alone, because my master bade me join him at your town of Kirkcudbright, whence, this very night, he takes ship for his own country ofBrittany. " "And why do you, if as you say you hate him so, continue to followhim?" "Ah, you are simple, " she said; "I follow him because it is my fate, and who can escape his doom? Also, because, as I have said, my work isnot yet done. " She relapsed into her former listless, forth-looking, unconsciousregard, gazing through him as if the young man had no existence. Hedropped the rein and the point of his sword with one movement. Thewhite palfrey started forward with the reins loose on its neck. And asshe went the eyes of the Lady Sybilla were fixed on the distant hillswhich hid the sea. So, leaving Sholto standing by the lakeside with bowed head and abasedsword, the strange woman went her way to work out her appointed task. But ere the Lady Sybilla disappeared among the trees, she turned andspoke once more. "I have but one counsel, Sir Knight. Think no more of your master. Letthe dead bury their dead. Ride to Thrieve and never once lose sight ofher whom you call your sweetheart, nor yet of her charge, MargaretDouglas, the Maid of Galloway, till the snow falls and winter comesupon the land. " CHAPTER XXXVIII THE MACKIMS COME TO THRIEVE Sholto MacKim stood watching awhile as the white palfrey disappearedwith its rider into the purple twilight of the woods which barred theway to the Solway. Then with a violent effort of will he recalledhimself and looked about for his horse. The tired beast was gentlycropping the lush dewy herbage on the green slope which led downwardsto his native cottage. Sholto took the grey by the bridle and walkedtowards his mother's door, pondering on the last words of the LadySybilla. A voice at once strenuous and familiar broke upon his ear. "Shoo wi' you, impident randies that ye are, shoo! Saw I ever the likeaboot ony decent hoose? Thae hens will drive me oot o' my mind!Sholto, lad, what's wrang? Is't your faither? Dinna tell me it's yourfaither. " "It is more bitter than that, mither mine. " "No the Earl--surely no the Earl himsel'--the laddie that I haenursed--the laddie that was to Barbara Halliburton as her ain dearson!" "Mother, it is the Earl and young David too. They are dead, betrayedinto the hands of their enemies, cruelly and treacherously slain!" Then the keening cry smote the air as Barbara MacKim sank on her kneesand lifted up her hands to heaven. "Oh, the bonny laddies--the twa bonny, bonny laddies! Mair than my ainbairns I loved them. When their ain mother wasna able for mortalweakness to rear him, William Douglas drew his life frae me. What for, Sholto, are ye standin' there to tell the tale? What for couldna yehave died wi' him? Ae mither's milk slockened ye baith. The same armscradled ye. I bade ye keep your lord safe wi' your body and your soul. And there ye daur to stand, skin-hale and bane unbroken, before yourmither. Get hence--ye are nae son o' Barbara MacKim. Let me never lookon your face again, gin ye bringna back the pride o' the warld, thegladness o' the auld withered heart o' her ye ca' your mither!" "Mother, " said Sholto, "my lord was not dead when I left him--he sentme to raise the country to his rescue. " "And what for then are ye standin' there clavering, and your lord indanger among his foes?" cried his mother, angrily. "Dear mother, I have something more to tell ye--" "Aye, I ken, ye needna break the news. It is that Malise, my man, isdead--that Laurence, wha ran frae the Abbey to gang wi' him to thewars, is nae mair. Aweel they are worthily spent, since they died fortheir chief! Ye say that ye were sent to raise the clan--then whatseek ye at the Carlinwark? To Thrieve, man, to Thrieve; as hard as yecan ride! To Castle Thrieve!" "Mother, " said Sholto, still more gently, "hearken but a moment. Thirty thousand men are on their way to Edinburgh. Three days andnights have I ridden without sleep. Douglasdale is awake. The UpperWard is already at the gates of the city. To a man, Galloway is onthe march. The border is aflame. But it is all too late already, Ihave had news of the end. Before ever a man could reach within miles, the fatal axe had fallen, and my lords, for whom each one of us wouldgladly have died with smiles upon our faces, lay headless in thecourtyard of Edinburgh Castle. " "And if the laddies were alive when ye rode awa', wha brocht the newsfaster than my Sholto could ride--tell me that?" "I came not directly to Galloway, mother. First I raised the west fromStrathaven to Ayr. Thence I carried the news to Dumfries and along theborder side. But to-day I have seen the Lady Sybilla on her way totake ship for France. From her I heard the news that all I had donewas too late. " "That foreigneerin' randy! Wad ye believe the like o' her? Yon womanthat they named 'Queen o' Beauty' at the tournay by the Fords o'Lochar!--Certes, I wadna believe her on oath, no if she swore on theblessed banes o' Saint Andro himsel'. To the castle, man, or I'll kiltmy coats and be there afore you to shame ye!" "I go, mother, " said Sholto, trying vainly to stem the torrent ofdenunciation which poured upon him; "I came only to see that all waswell with you. " "And what for should a' be weel wi' me? What can be ill wi' me, if itbe not to gang on leevin' when the noblest young men in the warld--thelad that was suckled at my bosom, lies cauld in the clay. Awa wi' ye, Sholto MacKim, and come na back till ye hae rowed every traitor in thesame bloody windin' sheet!" The foster mother of the Douglases sank on the ground in the dusk, leaning against the wall of her house. She held her face in her handsand sobbed aloud, "O Willie, Willie Douglas, mair than ony o' my ain Iloed ye. Bonny were ye as a bairn. Bonny were ye as a laddie. Bonnyabune a' as a noble young man and the desire o' maidens' e'en. Butnane o' them a' loed ye like poor auld Barbara, that wad hae gien herlife to pleasure ye. And noo she canna even steek thae black, blacke'en, nor wind the corpse-claith aboot yon comely limbs--sae straightand bonny as they were--I hae straiked and kissed sae oft and oft. Owae's me--wae's me! What will I do withoot my bonny laddies!" It was with the sound of his mother's lament still in his ears thatSholto rode sadly over the hill to Thrieve. The way is short and easy, and it was not long before the captain of the guard looked down uponthe lights of the castle gleaming through the gathering gloom. Butinstead of being, as was its wont, lighted from highest battlement toflanking tower, only one or two lamps could be discerned shining outof that vast cliff of masonry. But, on the other hand, lights were to be seen wandering this way andthat over the long Isle of Thrieve, following the outlines of itswinding shores, shining from the sterns of boats upon the pools of theDee water, weaving intricately among the broomy braes on either sideof the ford, and even streaming out across the water meadows ofBalmaghie. Sholto was so full of his own sorrow and the certain truth of theterrible news he must bring home to the Lady of Douglas and those twowhom he loved, Maud Lindesay and her fair maid, that he paid littleheed to these wandering lanterns and distant flaring torches. He was pausing at the bridge head to wait the lowering of thedraw-chains, when out of the covert above him there dashed a desperatehorseman, who stayed neither for bridge nor ford, but rode straight atthe eastern castle pool where it was deepest. To the stirrup clunganother figure strange and terrible, seen in the uncertain light fromthe gate-house and in the pale beams of the rising moon. The drawbridge clattered down, and sending his spurs home into theflanks of his tired steed, in a moment more Sholto was hard on thetrack of the first headlong horseman. Scarce a length separated themas they reached the outer guard of the castle. Abreast they reinedtheir horses in the quadrangle, and in a moment Sholto had recognisedin the rider his brother Laurence, pale as death, and the figure thathad clung to the stirrup as the horse took the water, was his father, Malise MacKim. Thus in one moment came the three MacKims to the door-step of Thrieve. The clatter and cry of their arrival brought a pour of torches fromevery side of the isle and from within the castle keep. "Have you found them--where are they?" came from every side. ButLaurence seemed neither to hear nor see. "Where is my lady?" he cried in a hoarse man's voice; and again, "Instantly I must see my lady. " Sholto stood aside, for he knew that these two brought later tidingsthan he. Presently he went over to his father, who was leaning pantingupon a stone post, and asked him what were the news. But Malise thrusthim back apparently without recognising him. "My lady, " he gasped, "I would see my lady!" Then through the torches clustered about the steps of the castle camethe tall, erect figure of the Earl's mother, the Countess of Douglas. She stood with her head erect, looking down upon the MacKims and uponthe dropped heads and heaving shoulders of their horses. Above andaround the torches flared, and their reek blew thwartwise across thestrange scene. "I am here, " she said, speaking clearly and naturally; "what would yewith the Lady of Douglas?" Thrice Laurence essayed to speak, but his ready tongue availed him notnow. He caught at his horse's bridle to steady him and turned weaklyto his father. "Do you speak to my lady--I cannot!" he gasped. A terrible figure was Malise MacKim, the strong man of Galloway, as hecame forward. Stained with the black peat of the morasses, his armourcast off piecemeal that he might run the easier, his under-appareltorn almost from his great body, his hair matted with the blood whichstill oozed from an unwashed wound above his brow. "My lady, " he said hoarsely, his words whistling in his throat, "Ihave strange things to tell. Can you bear to hear them?" "If you have found my daughter dead or dying, speak and fear not!" "I have things more terrible than the death of many daughters to tellyou!" "Speak and fear not--an it touch the lives of my sons, speak freely. The mother of the Douglases has learned the Douglas lesson. " "Then, " said Malise, sinking his head upon his breast, "God help you, lady, your two sons are dead!" "Is David dead also?" said the Lady of Douglas. "He is dead, " replied Malise. The lady tottered a little as she stood on the topmost step of theascent to Thrieve. One or two of the torch-bearers ran to support her. But she commanded herself and waved them aside. "God--He is the God, " she said, looking upwards into the black night. "In one day He has made me a woman solitary and without children. Sonsand daughter He has taken from me. But He shall not break my heart. No, not even He. Stand up, Malise MacKim, and tell me how these thingscame to pass. " And there in the blown reek of torches and the hush of the courtyardof Thrieve Malise told all the tale of the Black Dinner and the fatalmorning, of the short shrift and the matchless death, while around himstrong men sobbed and lifted up right hands to swear the eternalvengeance. But alone and erect as a banner staff stood the mother of the dead. Her eyes were dry, her lips compressed, her nostrils a littledistended like those of a war-horse that sniffs the battle from afar. Outside the castle wall the news spread swiftly, and somewhere in thedarkness a voice set up the Celtic keen. "Bid that woman hold her peace. I will hear the news and then we willcry the slogan. Say on, Malise!" Then the smith told how his horse had broken down time and again, howhe had pressed on, running and resting, stripped almost naked that hemight keep up with his son, because that no ordinary charger couldlong carry his great weight. Then when he had finished the Lady of Thrieve turned to Sholto--"Andyou, captain of the guard, what have you done, and wherefore left youyour master in his hour of need?" Then succinctly and to the point Sholto spoke, his father and Laurenceassenting and confirming as he told of the Earl's commission and ofhow he had accomplished those things that were laid upon him. "It is well, " said the lady, calmly, "and now I also will tell yousomething that you do not know. My little daughter, whom ye call theFair Maid of Galloway, with her companion, Mistress Maud Lindesay, went out more than twelve hours agone to the holt by the ford togather hazelnuts, and no eye of man or woman hath seen them since. " And, even as she spoke, there passed a quick strange pang through theheart of Sholto. He remembered the warning of the Lady Sybilla. Had heonce more come too late? CHAPTER XXXIX THE GIFT OF THE COUNTESS It was the Countess of Douglas who commanded that night in the Castleof Thrieve. Sholto wished to start at once upon the search for thelost maidens. But the lady forbade him. "There are a thousand searchers who during the night will do all thatyou could do--and better. To-morrow we shall surely want you. You havebeen three nights without sleep. Take your rest. I order you in yourmaster's name. " And on the bare stone, outside Maud Lindesay's empty room, Sholtothrew himself down and slept as sleep the dead. But that night, save about the chamber where abode the mother of theDouglases, the hum of life never ceased in the great Castle ofThrieve. Whether my lady slept or not, God knows. At any rate the doorwas closed and there was silence within. Sholto awoke smiling in the early dawn. He had been dreaming that heand Maud Lindesay were walking on the shore together. It was a lonelybeach with great driftwood logs whereon they sat and rested ere theytook hands again and walked forth on their way. In his dream Maud waskind, her teasing, disdainful mood quite gone. So Sholto awokesmiling, but in a moment he wished that he had slept on. He lay a space, becoming conscious of a pain in his heart--theovernight pain of a great disaster not yet realised. For a little heknew not what it was. Then he saw himself lying at Maud's open door, and he remembered--first the death of his masters, then the loss ofthe little maid, and lastly that of Maud, his own winsome sweetheartMaud. In another moment he had leaped to his feet, buckled hissword-belt tighter, slung his cloak into a corner, and run downstairs. The house guard which had ridden to Crichton and Edinburgh had beenreplaced from the younger yeomen of the Kelton and Balmaghie levies, even as the Earl had arranged before his departure. But of these onlya score remained on duty. All who could be spared had gone to join themarch on Edinburgh, for Galloway was set on having vengeance on theChancellor and had sworn to lay the capital itself in ashes in revengefor the Black Dinner of the castle banqueting-hall. The rest of the guard was out searching for the bonny maids ofThrieve, as through all the countryside Margaret Douglas and MaudLindesay were named. Eager as Sholto was to accompany the searchers, and though he knewwell that no foe was south of the Forth to assault such a strong placeas Thrieve, he did not leave the castle till he had set all in orderso far as he could. He appointed Andro the Penman and his brother Johnofficers of the garrison during his absence. Then, having seen to his accoutrement and providing, for he did notmean to return till he had found the maids, he went lastly to thechamber door of the Lady of Douglas to ask her leave to depart. At the first knock he heard a foot come slowly across the floor. Itwas my lady, who opened the latch herself and stood before Sholto inthe habit she had worn when at the castle gateway Malise had told hisnews. Her couch was unpressed. Her window stood open towards thesouth. A candle still glimmered upon a little altar in an angle of thewall. She had been kneeling all night before the image of the Virgin, with her lips upon the feet of her who also was a woman, and who bytreachery had lost a son. "I would have your permission to depart, my Lady Countess, " saidSholto, bowing his head upon his breast that he might not intrude uponher eyes of grief; "the castle is safe, and I can be well spared. ByGod's grace I shall not return till I bring either the maidsthemselves or settled news of them. Have I your leave to go?" The Lady of Douglas looked at him a moment without speech. "Surely you are not the same who rode away behind my son William. Youwent out light and gay as David, my other young son. There is now alook of Earl William himself in your face--his mother tells you so. Well, you were suckled at the same breast as he. May a double portionof his spirit rest on you! That lowering regard is the Douglas mark. Follow on and turn not back till you find. Strike and cease not, tillall be avenged. I have now no son left to save or to strike. Go, Sholto MacKim. He who is dead loved you and made you knight. I said atthe time that you were too young and would have dissuaded him. Butwhen did a Douglas listen to woman's advice--his mother's or hiswife's? Foster brother you are--brother you shall be. By this kiss Imake you even as my son. " She bent and laid her lips on the young man's brow. They were hot asiron uncooled from the smithy anvil. "Come with me, " she added, and with a vehemence strangely at odds withher calm of the night before, she took Sholto by the hand and drew himafter her into the room that had been Earl William's. From the bundle of keys at her side she took a small one of Frenchdesign. With this she unlocked a tall cabinet which stood in a corner. She threw the folding doors open, and there in the recess hung awonderful suit of armour, of the sort called at that time "secret. " "This, " said the Lady of Douglas, "I had designed for my son. Tenyears was it in the making. His father trysted it from a cunningartificer in Italy. All these years has it been perfecting for him. Itcomes too late. His eyes shall never see it, nor his body wear it. ButI give it to you. No Avondale shall ever do it upon him. It will fityou, for you and he were of a bigness. No sword can cut through theselinks, were it steel of Damascus forged for a Sultan. No spear-thrustcan pierce it, though I leave you to avenge the bruise. Yet it willlie soft as silk, concealed and unsuspected under the rags of a beggaror the robes of a king. The cap will turn the edge of an axe, evenwhen swung by a giant's hand, yet it will fit into the lining of aSpanish hat or velvet bonnet. This your present errand may prove moredangerous than you imagine. Go and put it on. " Sholto kneeled down and kissed the hand of his liege lady. Then whenhe had risen she gave him down the armour piece by piece, dustingeach with her kerchief with a sort of reverent action, as one mighttouch the face of the dead. In Sholto's hands it proved indeed lightalmost as woven cloth of homespun from Dame Barbara's loom, andflexible as the spun silk of Lyons which the great wear next theirbodies. With it there went an under-suit of finest and softest leather, thatthe skin should not be chafed by the cunning links as they workedsmoothly over one another at each movement of the body within. Sholto buckled on his lady's gift with a swelling heart. It was hisdead master's armour. And as piece by piece fitted him as a glove fitsthe hand, the spirit of William Douglas seemed to enter more and moreinto the lad. Then Sholto covered this most valuable gift with his own clothingwhich he had brought from the house of Carlinwark, and presentlyemerged, a well-looking but still slim squire of decent family. Then the Countess belted on him the sword of price which wenttherewith, a blade of matchless Toledan steel, but covered with aplain scabbard of black pigskin. "Draw and thrust, " commanded the lady, pointing at the rough stone ofthe wall at the end of the passage. Sholto looked ruefully at the glittering blade which he held in hishand, flashing blue from point to double guard. "Thrust and fear not, " said the Countess of Douglas the second time. Sholto lunged out at the stone with all his might. Fire flew from thesmitten blue whinstone where the point, with all the weight of hisyoung body behind it, impinged on the wall. A tingling shock ofacutest agony ran up the striker's wrist to the shoulder blade. Thesword dropped ringing on the pavement, and Sholto's arm fell numb anduseless to his side. "Lift the sword and look, " commanded the Lady Douglas. Sholto did as he was bidden, with his left hand, and lo, the pointwhich had bent like a hoop was sharp and straight as if just from thearmourer's. "Can you strike with your left hand?" asked the lady. "As with my right, " answered the son of Malise the Brawny. There was a bar at a window in the wall bending outward in shape likethe letter U. "Then strike a cutting stroke with your left hand. " Sholto took the sword. It seemed to him short-sighted policy that inthe hour of his departure on a perilous quest he should disablehimself in both arms. But Sholto MacKim was not the youth to questionan order. He lifted the sword in his left hand, and with a strongungraceful motion struck with all his might. At first he thought that he had missed altogether. There was notingling in his arm, no jar when the blade should have encountered theiron. But the Countess was examining the centre of the hoop. "I have missed, " said Sholto. "Come hither and look, " she said, without turning round. And when he looked, lo, the thick iron had been cut through almostwithout bending. The sides of the break were fresh, bright, and true. "Now look at the edge of your sword, " she said. There was no slightest dint anywhere upon it, so that Sholto, armourer's son as he was, turned about the blade to see if by anychance he could have smitten with the reverse. Failing in this, he could only kneel to his lady and say, "This is agreat gift--I am not worthy. " For in these times of peril jewels and lands were as nothing to thevalue of such a suit of armour, which kings and princes might wellhave made war to obtain. The faintest disembodied ghost of a smile passed over the face of theCountess of Douglas. "It is the best I can do with it now, " she said, "and at least no oneof the Avondales shall ever possess it. " After the Lady Douglas had armed the young knight and sped him uponhis quest, Sholto departed over the bridge where the surly custodianstill grumbled at his horse's feet trampling his clean woodenflooring. The young man rode a Spanish jennet of good stock, a plainbeast to look upon, neither likely to attract attention nor yet tostir cupidity. His father and Laurence were already on their way. Sholto had arrangedthat whether they found any trace of the lost ones or no, they wereall to meet on the third day at the little town of Kirkcudbright. ForSholto, warned by the Lady Sybilla, even at this time had his idea, which, because of the very horror of it, he had as yet communicated tono one. It chanced that as the youth rode southward along the banks of theDee, glancing this way and that for traces of the missing maids, butseeing only the grass trampled by hundreds of feet and the boats inthe stream dragging every pool with grapnels and ropes, two horsemenon rough ponies ambled along some distance in front of him. By theirrobes of decent brown they seemed merchants on a journey, portly offigure, and consequential of bearing. As Sholto rapidly made up to them, with his better horse and lighterweight, he perceived that the travellers were those two admirable andnoteworthy magistrates of Dumfries, Robert Semple and his own uncleNinian Halliburton of the Vennel. Hearing the clatter of the jennet's hoofs, they turned about suddenlywith mighty serious countenances. For in such times when the wayfarerheard steps behind him, whether of man or beast, it repaid him to giveimmediate attention thereto. So at the sound of hoofs Ninian and his friend set their hands totheir thighs and looked over their shoulders more quickly than seemedpossible to men of their build. "Ha, nephew Sholto, " cried Ninian, exceedingly relieved, "blithe am Ito see you, lad. You will tell us the truth of this ill news that hasupturned the auld province. By your gloomy face I see that the majorpart is overtrue. The Earl is dead, and he awes me for twenty-fourpeck of wheaten meal, forbye ten firlots of malt and other sundries, whilk siller, if these hungry Avondale Douglases come into possession, I am little likely ever to see. Surely I have more cause to mournhim--a fine lad and free with his having. If ye gat not settlementthis day, why then ye gat it the neist, with never a word of drawbacknor craving for batement. " Sholto told them briefly concerning the tragedy of Edinburgh. He hadno will for any waste of words, and as briefly thereafter of the lossof the little maid and her companion. The Bailie of Dumfries lifted up his hands in consternation. "'Tis surely a plot o' thae Avondales. Stra'ven folk are never tolippen to. And they hae made a clean sweep. No a Gallowa' Douglasleft, if they hae speerited awa' the bonny bit lass. Man, Robert, shewas heir general to the province, baith the Lordship o' Gallowa' andthe Earldom o' Wigton, for thae twa can gang to a lassie. But as soonas the twa laddies were oot o' the road, Fat Jamie o' Avondale cam'into the Yerldom o' Douglas and a' the Douglasdale estates, forbye theBorders and the land in the Hielands. Wae's me for Ninian Halliburton, merchant and indweller in Dumfries, he'll never see hilt or hair o'his guid siller gin that wee lassie be lost. Man, Sholto, is't no anawfu' peety?" During this lamentation, to which his nephew paid little attention, looking only from side to side as they three rode among the willows bythe waterside, the other merchant, Robert Semple, had been ponderingdeeply. "How could she be lost in this country of Galloway?" he said, "a landwhere there are naught but Douglases and men bound body and soul tothe Douglas, from Solway even to the Back Shore o' Leswalt? 'Tis justno possible--I'll wager that it is that Hieland gipsy MistressLindesay that has some love ploy on hand, and has gane aff and aiblinsta'en the lass wi' her for company. " At these words Sholto twisted about in his saddle, as if a wasp hadstung him suddenly. "Master Semple, " he said, "I would have you speak more carefully. Mistress Lindesay is a baron's daughter and has no love ploys, as youare pleased to call them. " The two burgesses shook with jolly significant laughter, which angeredSholto exceedingly. "Your mirth, sirs, I take leave to tell you, is most mightily illtimed, " he said, "and I shall consider myself well rid of yourcompany. " He was riding away when his uncle set his hand upon the bridle ofSholto's jennet. "Bide ye, wild laddie, " he said, "there is nae service in gaun afflike a fuff o' tow. My freend here meaned to speak nae ill o' thelass. But at least I ken o' ae love ploy that Mistress Lindesay isengaged in, or your birses wadna be so ready to stand on end, my bonnyman. But guid luck to ye. Ye hae the mair chance o' finding the flownbirdies, that ye maybes think mair o' the bonny norland quey than yethink o' the bit Gallowa' calf. But God speed ye, I say, for gin yebringna back the wee lass that's heir to the braid lands o' Thrieve, it's an ill chance Ninian Halliburton has ever to fill his loof wi'the bonny gowden 'angels' that (next to high heeven) are a man's bestfreends in an evil and adulterous generation. " CHAPTER XL THE MISSION OF JAMES THE GROSS From all sides the Douglases were marching upon Edinburgh. After themurder of the young lords the city gates had been closed by order ofthe Chancellor. The castle was put into a thorough state of defence. The camp of the Avondale Douglases, William and James, was already onthe Boroughmuir, and the affrighted citizens looked in terror upon thethickening banners with the bloody Douglas heart upon them, and uponthe array of stalwart and determined men of the south. Curses bothloud and deep were hurled from the besiegers' lines at every head seenabove the walls, together with promises to burn Edinburgh, castle andburgh alike, and to slocken the ashes with the blood of every livingthing within, all for the cause of the Black Dinner and the Bull'sHead set before the brothers of Douglas. But at midnoon of a glorious day in the late September, a man rode outfrom the west port of the city, a fat man flaccid of body, pale andtallowy of complexion. A couple of serving-men went behind him, withthe Douglas arms broidered on their coats. They looked no littleterrified, and shook upon their horses, as indeed well they might. This little cavalcade rode directly out of the city gates towards thepavilion of the young Douglases of Avondale. As they went two runningfootmen kept them company, one on either side of their leader, and asthat unwieldy horseman swayed this way and that in the saddle, firstone and then the other applied with his open palm the force requisiteto keep the rider erect upon his horse. It was the new Earl of Douglas, James the Gross, on his way to visitthe camp of his sons. As he approached the sentries who stood on guardupon the broomy braes betwixt Merchiston and Bruntsfield, he waschallenged in a fierce southland shout by one of the Carsphairn levieswho knew him not. "Stand back there, fat loon, gin ye wantna a quarrel shot intil thatswagging tallow-bag ye ca' your wame!" "Out of my way, hill varlet!" cried the man on horseback. But the Carsphairn man stood with his cross-bow pointed straight at theleader of the cavalcade, crying at the same time in a loud, far-carrying voice over his shoulder, "Here awa', Anthon--here awa', Bob! Come and help me to argue wi' this fat rogue. " Several other hillmen came hurrying up, and the little company ofriders was brought to a standstill. Then ensued this colloquy. "Who are you that dare stop my way?" demanded the Earl. "Wha may ye be that comes shuggy-shooin' oot o' the bluidy city o'Edinburgh intil oor camp, " retorted him of Carsphairn, "sitting yourbeast for all the warld like a lump o' potted-head whammelled oot o' abowl?" "I am the Earl of Douglas. " "The Yerl o' Dooglas! Then a bonny hand they hae made o' him inEdinburgh. I heard they had only beheaded him. " "I tell you I am Earl of Douglas. I bid you beware. Conduct me to thetent of my sons!" At this point an aged man of some authority stood forward and gazedintently at James the Gross, looking beneath his hand as at anextensive prospect of which he wished to take in all the details. "Lads, " he said, "hold your hands--it rins i' my head that thiscraitur' may be Jamie, the fat Yerl o' Avondale. We'll let him gang byin peace. His sons are decent lads. " There came from the hillmen a chorus of "Avondale he may be--there'snae sayin' what they can breed up there by Stra'ven. But we are weelassured that he is nae richt Douglas. Na, nae Douglas like yon man wasever cradled or buried in Gallowa'. " At this moment Lord William Douglas, seeing the commotion on theoutposts, came down the brae through the broom. Upon seeing his fatherhe took the plumed bonnet from off his head, and, ordering theCarsphairn men sharply to their places, he set his hand upon thebridle of the gross Earl's horse. So with the two running footmenstill preserving some sort of equilibrium in his unsteady bulk, Jamesof Avondale was brought to the door of a tent from which floated thebanner of the Douglas house, blue with a bleeding heart upon it. At the entering in of the pavilion, all stained and trodden into thesoil by the feet of passers-by, lay the royal banner of the Stewarts, so placed by headstrong James Douglas the younger, in contempt ofboth tutor and Chancellor, who, being but cowards and murderers, hadusurped the power of the king within the realm. That sturdy youth came to the door of his pavilion half-dressed as hehad lain down, yawning and stretching reluctantly, for he had been onduty all night perfecting the arrangements for besieging the town. "James--James, " cried his father, catching sight of his favourite sonrubbing sleepily his mass of crisp hair, "what's this that I hear?That you and William are in rebellion and are defying the power o' theanointed king--?" At this moment the footman undid the girths of his horse, which, beingapparently well used to the operation, stood still with its feetplanted wide apart. Then they ran quickly round to the side towardswhich the swaying bulk threatened to fall, the saddle slipped, and, like a top-heavy forest tree, James the Gross subsided into the armsof his attendants, who, straining and panting, presently set him onhis feet upon the blazoned royal foot-cloth at the threshold of thepavilion. Almost he had fallen backwards when he saw the use to which his daringsons had put the emblem of royal authority. "Guid save us a', laddies, " he cried, staggering across the flag intothe tent, "ken ye what ye do? The royal banner o' the King o'Scots--to mak' a floor-clout o'! Sirce, sirce, in three weeks I shallbe as childless as the Countess o' Douglas is this day. " "That, " said William Douglas, coldly, indicating with his finger thetrampled cloth, "is not the banner of Scotland, but only that of theSeneschal Stewarts. The King of Scots is but a puling brat, and theywho usurp his name are murderous hounds whose necks I shall presentlystretch with the rogue's halter!" Young James Douglas had set an oaken folding chair for his father atthe upper end of the pavilion, and into this James the Gross fellrather than seated himself. His sons William and James continued to stand before him, as was thedutiful habit of the time. Their father recovered his breath beforebeginning to speak. "What's this--what's this I hear?" he exclaimed testily, "is it truethat ye are in flat rebellion against the lawful authority of theking? Laddies, laddies, ye maun come in wi' me to his excellence theChancellor and make instanter your obedience. Ye are young and for mysake he will surely overlook this. I will speak with him. " "Father, " said William Douglas, with a cold firmness in his voice, "weare here to punish the murderers of our cousins. We shall indeed enterthe guilty city, but it will be with fire and sword. " "Aye, " cried rollicking, headstrong James, "and we will roast theCrichton on a spit and hang that smug traitor, Tutor Livingston, overthe walls of David's Tower, a bonny ferlie for his leman's wonder!" There came a cunning look into the small pig's eyes of James theGross. "Na, na, foolish laddies, thae things will ye no do. Mind ye not thetaunts and scorns that the Earl--the late Earl o' Douglas that is--putupon us a'? Think on his pride and vainglory, whilk Scripture saysshall be brocht low. Think in especial how this righteous judgmentthat has fallen on him and on his brother has cleared our way to theEarldom. " The choleric younger brother leaped forward with an oath on his lips, but his calmer senior kept him back with his hand. "Silence, James!" he said; "I will answer our father. Sir, we haveheard what you say, but our minds are not changed. What cause toassociate yourself with traitors and mansworn you may have, we do notknow and we do not care. " At his son's first words James the Gross rose with a sudden surprisingaccess of dignity remarkable in one of his figure. "I bid you remember, " he said, speaking southland English, as he waswont to do in moments of excitement, "I bid you remember, sirrah, thatI am the Earl of Douglas and Avondale, Justicer of Scotland--and yourfather. " William Douglas bowed, respectful but unmoved. "My lord, " he said, "I forget nothing. I do not judge you. You are inauthority over our house. You shall do what you will with these forceswithout there, so be you can convince them of your right. Blackmurder, whether you knew and approved it or no, has made you Earl ofDouglas. But, sir, if you take part with my cousins' murderers now, orscreen them from our just vengeance and the vengeance of God, I tellyou that from this day you are a man without children. For in thismatter I speak not only for myself, but for all your sons!" He turnedto his brother. "James, " he said, "call in the others. " James went to the tent doorand called aloud. "Archibald, Hugh, and John, come hither quickly. " A moment after three young men of noble build, little more than ladsindeed, but with the dark Douglas allure stamped plainly upon theircountenances, entered, bowed to their father, and stood silent withtheir hands crossed upon the hilts of their swords. William Douglas went on with the same determinate and relentless calm. "My lord, " he said, very respectfully, "here stand your five sons, allsoldiers and Douglases, waiting to hear your will. Murder has beendone upon the chief of our house by two men of cowardly heart and meanconsideration, Crichton and Livingston, instigated by the falseambassador of the King of France. We have come hither to punish theseslayers of our kin, and we desire to know what you, our father, thinkconcerning the matter. " James the Gross was still standing, steadying himself with his hand onthe arm of the oaken chair in which he had been sitting. He spoke withsome difficulty, which might proceed either from emotion or from theplethoric habit of the man. "Have I for this brought children into the world, " he said, "that theyshould lift up their hands against the father that begat them? Ye knowthat I have ever warned you against the pride and arrogance of yourcousins of Galloway. " "You mean, of the late Earl of Douglas and the boy his brother, "answered William; "the pride of eighteen and fourteen is surely vastlydangerous. " "I mean those who have been tried and executed in Edinburgh by royalauthority for many well-grounded offences against the state, " criedthe Earl, loudly. "Will you deign to condescend upon some of them?" said his son, asquietly as before. "Your cousins' pride and ostentation of riches and retinue, being farbeyond those of the King, constituted in themselves an eminent dangerto the state. Nay, the turbulence of their followers has more thanonce come before me in my judicial capacity as Justicer of the realm. What more would you have?" "Were you, my lord, of those who condemned them to death?" "Not so, William; it had not been seemly in a near kinsman and theheir to their dignities--that is, save and except Galloway, which byill chance goes in the female line, if we find not means to break thatunfortunate reservation. Your cousins were condemned by my LordsCrichton and Livingston. " "We never heard of either of them, " said William, calmly. "In their judicial aspect they may be styled lords, as is the Scottishcustom, " said James the Gross, "even as when I was laird of Balvanyand a sitter on the bed of justice, it was my right to be sonominated. " "Then our cousins were condemned with your approval, my Lord ofDouglas and Avondale?" persisted his son. James the Gross was visibly perturbed. "Approval, William, is not the word to use--not a word to use in thecircumstances. They were near kinsmen!" "But upon being consulted you did not openly disapprove--is it not so?And you will not aid us to avenge our cousins' murder now?" "Hearken, William, it was not possible--I could not openly disapprovewhen I also was in the Chancellor's hands, and I knew not but that hemight include me in the same condemnation. Besides, lads, think of thematter calmly. There is no doubt that the thing happens mostconveniently, and the event falls out well for us. Our own barrenacres have many burdens upon them. What could I do? I have been a poorman all my life, and after the removal of obstacles I saw my way tobecome the richest man in Scotland. How could I openly object?" William Douglas bowed. "So--" he said, "that is what we desired to know! Have I yourpermission to speak further?" His father nodded pleasantly, seating himself again as one that hasfinished a troublesome business. He rubbed his hands together, andsmiled upon his sons. "Aye, speak gin ye like, William, but sit doon--sit doon, lads. We areall of one family, and it falls out well for you as it does for me. Let us all be pleasant and agreeable together!" "I thank you, my lord, " said his son, "but we will not sit down. Weare no longer of one family. We may be your sons in the eye of the lawand in natural fact. But from this day no one of us will break bread, speak word, hold intimacy or converse with you. So far as in us lieswe will renounce you as our father. We will not, because of thecommandment, rise in rebellion against you. You are Earl of Douglas, and while you live must rule your own. But for me and my brothers wewill never be your children to honour, your sons to succour, nor yourliegemen to fight for you. We go to offer our services to our cousinMargaret, the little Maid of Galloway. We will keep her province withour swords as the last stronghold of the true Douglases of the Black. I have spoken. Fare you well, my lord!" During his son's speech the countenance of the newly made Earl ofDouglas grew white and mottled, tallowy white and dull red in turnsshowing upon it, like the flesh of a drained ox. He rose unsteadily tohis feet, moving one hand deprecatingly before him, like a helplessman unexpectedly stricken. His nether lip quivered, pendulous andpiteous, in the midst of his grey beard, and for a moment he strove invain with his utterance. His eyes fell abashed from the cold sternness of his eldest son'sglance, and he seemed to scan the countenances of the younger four forany token of milder mood. "James, " he said, "ye hear William. Surely ye do not hold with him?Remember I am your father, and I was aye particular fond o' you, Jamie. I mind when ye wad rin to sit astride my shoulder. And ye usedto like that fine!" There were tears in the eyes of the weak, cunning, treacherous-heartedman. The lips of James Douglas quivered a little, and his voice failedhim, as he strove to answer his father. What he would have said noneknows, but ere he could voice a word, the eyes of his brother, sternas the law given to Moses on the mount, were bent upon him. Hestraightened himself up, and, with a look carefully averted from thepalsied man before him, he said, in a steady tone, "What my brotherWilliam says, I say. " His father looked at him again, as if still hoping against hope forsome kinder word. Then he turned to his younger sons. "Archie, Hugh, little Jockie, ye willna take part against your ainfaither?" "We hold with our brothers!" said the three, speaking at once. At this moment there came running in at the door of the tent a lad often--Henry, the youngest of the Avondale brothers. He stopped short inthe midst, glancing wonderingly from one to the other. His littlesword with which he had been playing dropped from his hand. James theGross looked at him. "Harry, " he said, "thy brothers are a' for leavin' me. Will ye gangwi' them, or bide wi' your faither?" "Father, " said the boy, "I will go with you, if ye will let me help tokill Livingston and the Chancellor!" "Come, laddie, " said the Earl, "ye understand not these matters. Iwill explain to you when we gang back to the braw things in Edinbra'toon!" "No, no, " cried the boy, stooping to pick up his sword, "I will bidewith my brothers, and help to kill the murderers of my cousins. WhatWilliam says, I say. " Then the five young men went out and called for their horses, theiryoungest brother following them. And as the flap of the tent fell, andhe was left alone, James the Gross sank his head between his soft, moist palms, and sobbed aloud. For he was a weak, shifty, unstable man, loving approval, and a burdento himself in soul and body when left to bear the consequences of hisacts. "Oh, my bairns, " he cried over and over, "why was I born? I am notsufficient for these things!" And even as he sobbed and mourned, the hoofs of his sons' horses rangdown the wind as they rode through the camp towards Galloway. Andlittle Henry rode betwixt William and James. CHAPTER XLI THE WITHERED GARLAND Meanwhile Sholto fared onwards down the side of the sullen water ofDee. The dwellers along the bank were all on the alert, and cried manyquestions to him about the death of the Earl, most thinking him amerchant travelling from Edinburgh to take ship at Kirkcudbright. Sholto answered shortly but civilly, for the inquirers were mostlydecent folk well on in years, whose lads had gone to the levy, and whonaturally desired to know wherefore their sons had been summoned. In return he asked everywhere for news of any cavalcade which mighthave passed that way, but neither from the country folk, nor yet fromhoof-marks upon the grassy banks, could he glean the least informationpertinent to the purpose of his quest. Not till he came within a few miles of the town did he meet with manor woman who could give him any material assistance. It was by theFords of Tongland that he first met with one Tib MacLellan, who withmuch volubility and some sagacity retailed fresh fish to the burghersof Kirkcudbright and the whole countryside, giving a day to eachdistrict so long as the supply of her staple did not fail. "Fair good day to ye, mistress!" said Sholto, taking off his bonnet tothe sonsy upstanding fishwife. "And to you, bonny lad, " replied the complimented dame, dropping acourtesy, "may the corbie never cry at ye nor ill-faured pie juik atyour left elbow. May candle creesh never fa' on ye, red fire burn ye, nor water scald ye. " Tib was reeling off her catalogue of blessings when Sholto cut hershort. "Can you tell me, good lady, " he asked, in his most insinuating tones, "if there has been any vessel cleared from the port during these lastweeks?" "'Deed, sir, that I should ken, for is no my ain sister marriet onJock Wabster, wha's cousin by marriage twice removed is the bailieofficer o' the port? So I can advise ye that there was a boat frae theIsle o' Man wi' herrin's for the great houses, though never a fin o'them like the halesome fish I carry here in my creel. Wad ye like tosee them, to buy a dozen for the bonny lass that's waiting for ye?That were a present to recommend ye, indeed--far mair than your gaudyflowers, fule ballads, and sic like trash!" "You cannot remember any other ship of larger size than the Manxfishing-boat?" continued Sholto. "Weel, no to ca' cleared frae the port, " Tib went on, "but there was apair o' uncanny-looking foreign ships that lay oot there by theManxman's Lake for eight days, and the nicht afore yestreen they gaedoot with the tide. They were saying aboot the foreshore that they gaedwest to some other port to tak' on board the French monzie that cam'to the Thrieve at the great tournaying! But I kenna what wad tak' himawa' to the Fleet or the Ferry Toon o' Cree, and leave a' thepleasures o' Kirkcudbright ahint him. Forbye sic herrin's as aresupplied by me, Tib MacLellan, at less than cost price--as I houpyour honour will no forget, when in the course o' natur' and theprovidence o' God you and her comes to hae a family atween ye. " Sholto promised that he would not forget when the time alluded toarrived. Then, turning his jennet off the direct road to Kirkcudbrighttown, and betaking him through the Ardendee fords, he made all speedtowards a little port upon the water of Fleet, at the point where thatfair moorland stream winds lazily through the water-meadows for a mileor two, after its brawling passage down from the hills of heather andbefore it commits itself to the mother sea. But it was not until he had long crossed it and reached the lonelyCassencary shore that Sholto found his first trace of the lostmaidens. For as he rode along the cliffs his keen eye noted awell-marked trail through the heather approaching the shore at rightangles to his own line of march. The tracks, still perfectly evidentin the grassy places, showed that as many as twenty horses had passedthat way within the last two or three days. He stood awhile examiningthe marks, and then, leading his beast slowly by the bridle, hecontinued to follow them westward till they became confused and lostnear a little jetty erected by the lairds of Cree and Cassencary forconvenience of traffic with Cumberland and the Isle of Man. Here onthe very edge of the foreshore, blown by some chance wind behind astone and wonderfully preserved there, Sholto found a child's chain ofwoodbine entwined with daisies and autumnal pheasant's eye. He took itup and examined it. Some of the flowers were not yet withered. Theinter-weaving was done after a fashion he had taught the little Maidof Galloway himself, one happy day when he had walked on air with theglamour of Maud Lindesay's smiles uplifting his heart. For thattricksome grace had asked him to teach her also, and he remembered thelingering touch of her fingers ere she could compass the quaint deviceof the pheasant's eye peeping out from the midst of each whitefestoon. Then a deep despair settled down on Sholto's spirit. He knew that MaudLindesay and the fair Maid of Galloway had undoubtedly fallen into thepower of the terrible Marshal de Retz, Sieur of Machecoul, ambassadorof the King of France, and also many things else which need not inthis place be put on record. CHAPTER XLII ASTARTE THE SHE-WOLF In a dark wainscoted room overlooking that branch of the Seine whichdivides the northern part of Paris from the Isle of the City, Gillesde Retz, lately Chamberlain of the King of France, sat writing. Thehotel had recently been redecorated after the sojourn of the English. Wooden pavements had again been placed in the rooms where thebarbarians had strewed their rushes and trampled upon their rottingfishbones. Noble furniture from the lathes of Poitiers, decorated withthe royal ermines of Brittany, stood about the many alcoves. The tableitself whereon the famous soldier wrote was closed in with drawers andshelves which descended to the floor and seemed to surround theoccupant like a cell. Before de Retz stood a curious inkstand, made by some cunning jewellerout of the upper half of a human skull of small size, cut across atthe eye-holes, inverted, and set in silver with a rim of large rubies. This was filled with ink of a startling vermilion colour. The document which Gilles de Retz was busy transcribing upon sheets ofnoble vellum in this strange ink was of an equally mysteriouscharacter. The upper part had the appearance of a charter engrossed bythe hand of some deft legal scribe, but the words which followed wereas startling as the vehicle by means of which they were made to standout from the vellum. "Unto Barran-Sathanas; Lord most glorious and puissant in hellbeneath and in the earth above, I, his unworthy servitor Gilles deRetz, make my vows, hereby forever renouncing God, Christ, and theBlessed Saints. " To this appalling introduction succeeded many lines of close anddelicate script, interspersed with curious cabalistic signs, in whichthat of the cross reversed could frequently be detected. Gilles deRetz wrote rapidly, rising only at intervals to throw a fresh log ofwood across the vast iron dogs on either side of the wide fireplace, as the rain from the northwest beat more and more fiercely upon thesmall glazed panes of the window and howled among the innumerablegargoyles and twisted roof-stacks of the Hotel de Pornic. Within the chamber itself, in the intervals of the storm, a lowcontinuous growling made itself evident. At first it was disregardedby the writer, but presently, by its sheer pertinacity, the sound soirritated him that he rose from his seat, and, striding to a narrowdoor covered with a heavy curtain, he threw it wide open to the wall. Then through the black oblong so made, a huge and shaggy she-wolfslouched slowly into the room. The marshal kicked the brute impatiently with his slippered foot asshe entered, and, strange to relate, the wolf slunk past him with thecowed air of a dog conscious of having deserved punishment. "Astarte, vilest beast, " he cried, "have I not a thousand times warnedyou to be silent and wait outside when I am at work within mychamber?" The she-wolf eyed her master as he went back towards his table. Then, seeing him lift his pen, with a sigh of content she dropped down uponthe warm hearthstone, lying with her haunches towards the blazing logsand her bristling head couched upon her paws. Her yellow shining eyesblinked sleepily and approvingly at him, while with her tongue sherasped the soft pads of her feet one by one, biting away the fur frombetween the toes with her long and gleaming teeth. Presently Astarteappeared to doze off. Her eyes were shut, her attitude relaxed. But sosoon as ever her master moved even an inch to consult a marked list ofdates which hung on a hook beside him, or leaned over to dip a quillin his scarlet ink, the flashing yellow eye and the gleam of whiteteeth underneath told that Astarte was awake and intently watchingevery movement of the worker. Through the heavy boom of the storm without, the thresh of the rainupon the lattice casement, and the irregular whipping gusts whichshook the house, the soft wheeze of the engrossing quill could beheard, the crackle of the burning logs and the heavy regular breathingof the couchant she-wolf being the only other sounds audible withinthe apartment. Gilles de Retz wrote on, smiling to himself as he added line afterline to his manuscript. His beard shone with a truculent blue-blacklustre. For the moment the aged look had quite gone out of his face. His cheek appeared flushed with the hues of youth and reinvigoratedhope, yet withal of a youth without innocence or charm. Rather itseemed as if fresh blood had been injected into the veins of some ageddemon, moribund and cruel, giving, instead of health or grace, only anew lease of cruelty and lust. Presently another door opened, the main entrance of the apartment thistime, not the small private portal through which Astarte the wolf hadbeen admitted. A girl came in, thrusting aside the curtain, and, forthe space of a moment, holding it outstretched with an arm gowned inpure white before dropping it with a rustle of heavy silken fabricupon the ground. The Marshal de Retz wrote on without appearing to be conscious of anynew presence in his private chamber. The girl stood regarding him, with eyes that blazed with an intent so deadly and a hate soall-possessing that the yellow treachery in those of Astarte theshe-wolf appeared kind and affectionate by contrast. At the girl's entrance that shaggy beast had raised herself upon herfore paws, and presently she gave vent to a low growl, half ofdistrust and half of warning, which at once reached the ears of thebusy worker. Gilles de Retz looked up quickly, and, catching sight of the LadySybilla, with a sweep of his hand he thrust his manuscript into anopen drawer of the escritoire. "Ah, Sybilla, " he said, leaning back in his chair with an air of easyfamiliarity, "you are more sparing of your visits to me than of yore. To what do I owe the pleasure and honour of this one?" The girl eyed him long before answering. She stood statue-still by thecurtain at the entrance of the apartment, ignoring the chair which themarshal had offered her with a bow and a courteous wave of his hand. "I have come, " she made answer at last, in the deep even tones whichshe had used before the council of the traitors at Stirling, "todemand from you, Messire Gilles de Retz, what you mean to do with thelittle Margaret Douglas and her companion, whom you wickedlykidnapped from their own country and have brought with you in yourtrain to France?" "I have satisfaction in informing you, " replied the marshal, suavely, "that it is my purpose to dispose of both these agreeable young ladiesentirely according to my own pleasure. " The girl caught at her breast with her hand, as if to stay a suddenspasm of pain. "Not at Tiffauges--" she gasped, "not at Champtocé?" The marshal leaned back, enjoying her terror, as one tastes in slowsips a rare brand of wine. He found the flavour of her fearsdelicious. "No, Sybilla, " he replied at last, "neither at Champtocé nor yet atTiffauges--for the present, that is, unless some of your Scottishfriends come over to rescue them out of my hands. " "How, then, do you intend to dispose of them?" she urged. "I shall send them to your puking sister and her child, hiding theirheads and sewing their samplers at Machecoul. What more can you ask?Surely the young and fair are safe in such worthy society, even ifthey may chance to find it a little dull. " "How can I believe him, or know that for once he will forego hispurposes of hell?" Sybilla murmured, half to herself. The Marshal de Retz smiled, if indeed the contraction of muscles whichrevealed a line of white teeth can be called by that name. In thesense in which Astarte would have smiled upon a defenceless sheepfold, so Gilles de Retz might have been said to smile at his visitor. "You may believe me, sweet Lady Sybilla, " said the marshal, "becausethere is one vice which it is needless for me to practise in yourpresence, that of uncandour. I give you my word that unless yourfriends come worrying me from the land of Scots, the maids shall notdie. Perhaps it were better to warn any visitors that even atMachecoul we are accustomed to deal with such cases. Is it not so, Astarte?" At the sound of her name the huge wolf rose slowly, and, walking toher master's knee, she nosed upon him like a favourite hound. "And if your intent be not that which causes fear to haunt theprecincts of your palaces like a night-devouring beast, and makes yourname an execration throughout Brittany and the Vendée, why have youcarried the little child and the other pretty fool forth from theircountry? Was it not enough that you should slay the brothers?Wherefore was it necessary utterly to cut off the race of theDouglases?" "Sybilla, dear sister of my sainted Catherine, " purred the marshal, "it is your privilege that you should speak freely. When it ispleasing to me I may even answer you. It pleases me now, listen--youknow of my devotion to science. You are not ignorant at what cost, atwhat vast sacrifices, I have in secret pushed my researches beyond thevery confines of knowledge. The powers of the underworlds arerevealing themselves to me, and to me alone. Evil and good alike shallbe mine. I alone will pluck the blossom of fire, and tear from helland hell's master their cherished mystery. " He paused as if mentally to recount his triumphs, and then continued. "But at the moment of success I am crossed by a prejudice. Theignorant people clamour against my life--_canaille_! I regard themnot. But nevertheless their foolish prejudices reach other ears. Hearken!" And like a showman he beckoned Sybilla to the window. A low roar ofhuman voices, fitful yet sustained, made itself distinctly audibleabove the shriller hooting of the tempest. "Open the window!" he commanded, standing behind the curtain. The girl unhasped the brazen hook and looked out. Beneath her a littlecrowd of poor people had collected about a woman who was beating withbleeding hands upon the shut door of the Hotel de Pornic. "Justice! justice!" cried the woman, her hands clasped and her longblack hair streaming down her shoulders, "give me my child, my littlePierre. Yester-eve he was enticed into the monster's den by hisservant Poitou, and I shall never see him more! Give me my boy, murderer! Restore me my son!" And the answering roar of the people's voices rose through the openwindow to the ears of the marshal. "Give the woman her son, Gilles deRetz!" At that moment the woman caught sight of Sybilla. Instantly shechanged her tone from entreaty to fierce denunciation. "Behold the witch, friends, let us tear her to pieces. She is keptyoung and beautiful by drinking the blood of children. Throw thyselfdown, Jezebel, that the dogs may eat thee in the streets. " And a shout went up from the populace as Sybilla shut to the window, shuddering at the horrors which surrounded her. The Marshal de Retz had not moved, watching her face without regardingthe noise outside. Now he went back to his chair, and bending hisslender white fingers together, he looked up at her. Presently he struck a silver bell by his side three times, and themellow sound pervaded the house. Poitou appeared instantly at the inner door through which the she-wolfhad entered. "How does it go?" asked the marshal, with his usual careless easygrace. "Not well, " said Poitou, shaking his head; "that is, rightly up to apoint, and then--all wrong!" For the first time the countenance of the marshal appeared troubled. "And I was sure of success this time. We must try them younger. It isall so near, yet, strangely it escapes us. Well, Poitou, I shall comein a little when I have finished with this lady. Tell De Sillé toexpect me. " Poitou bowed respectfully and was withdrawing, too well trained tosmile or even lift his eyes to where Sybilla stood by the window. His master appeared to recollect himself. "A moment, Poitou--there are some troublesome people of the cityrabble at the door. Bid the guard turn out, and thrust them away. Tellthem to strike not too gently with the flats of their swords and thebutts of their spears. " Gilles de Retz listened for some time after the disappearance of hisfamiliar. Presently the low droning note of popular execrationchanged into sharper exclamations of hatred, mingled with cries ofpain. Then the marshal smiled, and rubbed his hands lightly one over theother. "That's my good lads, " he said; "hear the rattle of the spear-hiltsupon the paving-stones? They are bringing the butts into closeacquaintance with certain very ill-shod feet. Ah, now they are gone!" The marshal took a long breath and went on, half to himself and halfto Sybilla. "But I own it is all most inconvenient, " he said, thoughtfully. "Herein Paris, in King Charles's country, it does not so greatly matter. For the affair in Scotland has set me right with the King and inespecial with the Dauphin. By the death of the Douglases I have givenback the duchy of Touraine to the kings of France after threegenerations. I have therefore well earned the right to be allowed toseek knowledge in mine own way. " "The service of the devil is a poor way to knowledge, " said the girl. "Ah, there it is, " said the marshal, raising his hand with gentledeprecation, "even you, who are so highly privileged, are not whollysuperior to vulgar prejudice. I keep a college of priests for theservice of God and the Virgin. They have done me but little good. Surely therefore I may be allowed a little service of That Other, whohas afforded me such exquisite pleasure and aided me so much. TheMaster of Evil knows all things, and he can help whom he will to thesecrets of wealth, of power, and of eternal youth. " "Have you gained any of these by the aid of that Master whom youserve?" asked the Lady Sybilla, with great quiet in her voice. "Nay, not yet, " cried the marshal, moved for the first time, "notyet--perhaps because I have sought too eagerly and hotly. But I am nowat least within sight of the wondrous goal. See, " he added, withgenuine excitement labouring in his voice, "see--I am still a youngman, yet though I, Gilles de Retz, was born to the princeliest fortunein France, and by marriage added another, they have both been spentwell nigh to the last stiver in learning the hidden secrets of theuniverse. I am still a young man, I say, but look at my whiteninghair, count the deep wrinkles on my forehead, consider my witheredcheek. Have I not tasted all agonies, renounced all delights, and castaside all scruples that I might win back my youth, and with it theknowledge of good and evil?" Sybilla went to the door and stood again by the curtain. "Then you swear by your own God that you will let no evil befall theScottish maids?" she said. "I have told you already--let that suffice!" he replied with suddencoldness; "you know that, like the Master whom I serve, I can keep myword. I will not harm them, so long as their Scottish kinsfolk comenot hither meddling with my purposes. I have enough of meddlers inFrance without adding outlanders thereto! I cannot keep a new andpermanent danger at grass within my gates. " The Lady Sybilla passed through the portal by which she had entered, without adieu or leave-taking of any kind. Gilles de Retz rose as soonas the curtain had fallen, and shook himself with a yawn, like onewho has got through a troublesome necessary duty. Then he walked tothe window and looked out. The woman had come back and was kneelingbefore the Hotel de Pornic. [Illustration: A BRIGHT LIGHT AS OF A FURNACE BURNT UP BEFORE HIM, ANDTHE HEAT WAS OVERPOWERING AS IT RUSHED LIKE A RUDDY TIDE-RACE AGAINSTHIS FACE. ] At sight of him she cried with sudden shrillness, "My lord, my greatlord, give me back my child--my little Pierre. He is my heart's heart. My lord, he never did you any harm in all his innocent life!" The Marshal de Retz shut the window with a shrug of protest againstthe vulgarity of prejudice. He did not notice four men in the garb ofpilgrims who stood in the dark of a doorway opposite. "This is both unnecessary and excessively discomposing, " he muttered;"I fear Poitou has not been judicious enough in his selections. " He turned towards the private door, and as he did so Astarte theshe-wolf rose and silently followed him with her head drooped forward. He went along a dark passage and pushed open a little iron door. Abright light as of a furnace burnt up before him, and the heat wasoverpowering as it rushed like a ruddy tide-race against his face. "Well, Poitou, does it go better?" he said cheerfully, "or must we trythem of the other sex and somewhat younger, as I at first proposed?" He let the door slip back, and the action of a powerful spring shutout Astarte. Whereat she sat down on her haunches in the dark of thepassage, and showed her gleaming teeth in a grin, as, with cockedears, she listened to the sounds from within the secret laboratory ofthe Marshal de Retz. CHAPTER XLIII MALISE FETCHES A CLOUT The four men whom the Messire Gilles, by good fortune, failed to seestanding in the doorway opposite the Hotel de Pornic were attired inthe habit of pilgrims to the shrine of Saint James of Compostella. Upon their heads they wore broad corded hats of brown. Long brownrobes covered them from head to foot. Their heads were tonsured, andas they went along they fumbled at their beads and gave theirbenediction to the people that passed by, whether they returned theman alms or not. This they did by spreading abroad the fingers of bothhands and inclining their heads, at the same time muttering tothemselves in a tongue which, if not Latin, was at least equallyunknown to the good folk of Paris. "It is the house, " said the tallest of the four, "stand well backwithin the shade!" "Nay, Sholto, what need?" grumbled another, a very thickset palmer he;"if the maids be within, let us burst the gates, and go and take themout!" "Be silent, Malise, " put in the third pilgrim, whose dress of richerstuff than that of his companions, added to an air of natural command, betrayed the man of superior rank, "remember, great jolterhead, thatwe are not at the gates of Edinburgh with all the south country at ourbacks. " The fourth, a slender youth and fresh of countenance, stood somewhatbehind the first three, without speaking, and wore an air of profoundmeditation and abstraction. It is not difficult to identify three out of the four. Sholto's questfor his sweetheart was a thing fixed and settled. That his father andhis brother Laurence should accompany him was also to be expected. Butthe other and more richly attired was somewhat less easy to becertified. The Lord James of Douglas it was, who spoke French with theidiomatic use and easy accentuation of a native, albeit of thosecentral provinces which had longest owned the sway of the King ofFrance. The brothers MacKim also spoke the language of the countryafter a fashion. For many Frenchmen had come over to Galloway in thetrains of the first two Dukes of Touraine, so that the Gallic speechwas a common accomplishment among the youths who sighed to adventurewhere so many poor Scots had won fortune, in the armies of the Kingsof France. Indeed, throughout the centuries Paris cannot be other than Paris. AndParis was more than ever Paris in the reign of Charles the Seventh. Her populace, gay, fickle, brave, had just cast off the yoke of theEnglish, and were now venting their freedom from stern Saxon policingaccording to their own fashion. Not the King of France, but the Lordof Misrule held the sceptre in the capital. It was not long therefore before a band of rufflers swung round acorner arm-in-arm, taking the whole breadth of the narrow causewaywith them as they came. It chanced that their leader espied the fourScots standing in the wide doorway of the house opposite the Hotel dePornic. "Hey, game lads, " he cried, in that roistering shriek which thenpassed for dashing hardihood among the youth of Paris, "here be someholy men, pilgrims to the shrine of Saint Denis, I warrant. I, too, ama clerk of a sort, for Henriet tonsured me on Wednesday sennight. Letus see if these men of good works carry any of the deceitful vanitiesof earth about with them in their purses. Sometimes such are not illlined!" The youths accepted the proposal of their leader with alacrity. "Let us have the blessing of the holy palmers, " they cried, "and ekethe contents of their pockets!" So with a gay shout, and in an evil hour for themselves, they boredown upon the four Scots. "Good four evangelists, " cried the youth who had spoken first--a tall, ill-favoured, and sallow young man in a cloak of blue lined withscarlet, swaggering it with long strides before the others, "tell uswhich of you four is Messire Matthew. For, being a tax-gatherer, hewill assuredly have money of his own, and besides, since the sad deathof your worthy friend Judas, he must have succeeded him as yourtreasurer. " "This is the keeper of our humble store, noble sir, " answered the LordJames Douglas, quietly, indicating the giant Malise with his lefthand, "but spare him and us, I pray you courteously!" "Ha, so, " mocked the tall youth, turning to Malise, "then thegentleman of the receipt of custom hath grown strangely about thechest since he went a-wandering from Galilee!" And he reached forward his hand to pull away the cloak which hunground the great frame of the master armourer. Malise MacKim understood nothing of his words or of his intent, butwithout looking at his tormentor or any of the company, he asked ofJames Douglas, in a voice like the first distant mutterings of athunder-storm, "Shall I clout him?" "Nay, be patient, Malise, I bid you. This is an ill town in which toget rid of a quarrel once begun. Be patient!" commanded James Douglasunder his breath. "We are clerks ourselves, " the swarthy youth went on, "and we havecome to the conclusion that such holy palmers as you be, men fromBurgundy or the Midi, as I guess by your speech, Spaniards by yourcloaks and this good tax-gatherer's beard, ought long ago to havetaken the vows of poverty. If not, you shall take them now. For, mostworthy evangelistic four, be it known unto you that I am Saint Peterand can loose or bind. So turn out your money-bags. Draw your blades, limber lads!" Whereupon his companions with one accord drew their swords andadvanced upon the Scots. These stood still without moving as if theyhad been taken wholly unarmed. "Shall I clout them now?" rumbled Malise the second time, with ananxious desire in his voice. "Bide a wee yet, " whispered the Lord James; "we will try the softanswer once more, and if that fail, why then, old Samson, you mayclout your fill. " "_His_ fill!" corrected Malise, grimly. "Your pardon, good gentlemen, " said James of Douglas aloud to thespokesman, "we are poor men and travel with nothing but the merestnecessities--of which surely you would not rob us. " "Nay, holy St. Luke, " mocked the swarthy one, "not rob. That is anevil word--rather we would relieve you of temptation for your ownsouls' good. You are come for your sins to Paris. You know that thelove of money is the root of all evil. So in giving to us who areclerks of Paris you will not lose your ducats, but only contribute ofyour abundance to Holy Mother Church. I am a clerk, see--I do notdeceive you! I will both shrive and absolve you in return for thefilthy lucre!" And, commanding one of his rabble to hold a torch close to his head, he uncovered and showed a tonsured crown. "And if we refuse?" said Lord James, quietly. "Then, good Doctor Luke, " answered the youth, "we are ten to four--andit would be our sad duty to send you all to heaven and then ease yourpockets, lest, being dead, some unsanctified passer-by might betempted to steal your money. " "Surely I may clout him now?" came again like the nearer growl of alion from Malise the smith. Seeing the four men apparently intimidated and without means ofdefence, the ten youths advanced boldly, some with swords in theirright hands and torches in their left, the rest with swords anddaggers both. The Scots stood silent and firm. Not a weapon showedfrom beneath a cloak. "Down on your knees!" cried the leader of the young roisterers, andwith his left hand he thrust a blazing torch into the grey beard ofMalise. There was a quick snort of anger. Then, with a burst of relief andpleasure, came the words, "By God, I'll clout him now!" The sound of amighty buffet succeeded, something cracked like a broken egg, and theclever-tongued young clerk went down on the paving-stones with aclatter, as his torch extinguished itself in the gutter and his swordflew ringing across the street. "Come on, lads--they have struck the first blow. We are safe from thelaw. Kill them every one!" cried his companions, advancing to theattack with a confidence born of numbers and the consciousness offighting on their own ground. But ere they reached the four men who had waited so quietly, the Scotshad gathered their cloaks about their left arms in the fashion ofshields, and a blade, long and stout, gleamed in every right hand. Still no armour was to be seen, and, though somewhat disconcerted, theassailants were by no means dismayed. "Come on--let us revenge De Sillé!" they cried. "Lord, Lord, this is gaun to be a sair waste o' guid steel, " grumbledMalise; "would that I had in my fist a stieve oaken staff out ofHalmyre wood. Then I could crack their puir bit windlestaes o' swords, without doing them muckle hurt! Laddies, laddies, be warned and gangdecently hame to your mithers before a worse thing befall. James, yehae their ill-contrived lingo, tell them to gang awa' peaceably totheir naked beds!" For, having vented his anger in the first buffet, Malise was nowsomewhat remorseful. There was no honour in such fighting. But allunwarned the youthful roisterers of Paris advanced. This was a nightlybusiness with them, and indeed on such street robberies of strangersand shopkeepers the means of continuing their carousings depended. It chanced that at the first brunt of the attack Sholto, who was atthe other end of the line from his father, had to meet three opponentsat once. He kept them at bay for a minute by the quickness of hisdefence, but being compelled to give back he was parrying a couple oftheir blades in front, when the third got in a thrust beneath his arm. It was as if the hostile sword had stricken a stone wall. The flimsyand treacherous blade went to flinders, and the would-be robber wasleft staring at the guard suddenly grown light in his hand. With a quick backward step, Sholto slashed his last assailant acrossthe upper arm, effectually disabling him. Then, catching his heel in arut, he fell backward, and it would have gone ill with him but for theaction of his father. The brawny one was profoundly disgusted athaving to waste his strength and science upon such a rabble, and now, at the moment of his son's fall, he suddenly dropped his sword andseized a couple of torches which had fallen upon the pavement. Withthese primitive weapons he fell like a whirlwind upon the foe, takingthem unexpectedly in flank. A sweep of his mighty arms right and leftsent two of the assailants down, one with the whole side of his facescarified from brow to jaw, and the other with his mouth at oncewidened by the blow and hermetically closed by the blazing tar. Next, Sholto's pair of assailants received each a mighty buffet andwent down with cracked sconces. The rest, seeing this revolving anddecimating fire-mill rushing upon them as Malise waved the torchesround his head, turned tail and fled incontinently into the narrowalleys which radiated in all directions from the Hotel de Pornic. CHAPTER XLIV LAURENCE TAKES NEW SERVICE "Look to them well, Malise, " said the Lord James; "'twas you who didthe skull-cracking at any rate. See if your leechcraft can tell us ifany of these young rogues are likely to die. I would not have theirdeaths on my conscience if I can avoid it. " First picking up and sheathing his sword, then bidding Sholto hold atorch, Malise turned the youths over on their backs. Four of themgrunted and complained of the flare of the light in their eyes, likemen imperfectly roused from sleep. "Thae loons will be round in half an hour, " said Malise, confidently. "But they will hae richt sair heads the morn, I'se warrant, and someo' them may be marked aboot the chafts for a Sabbath or twa!" But the swarthy youth whom the others called De Sillé, he who had beenspokesman and who had fallen first, was more seriously injured. He hadworn a thin steel cap on his head, which had been cracked by thebuffet he had received from the mighty fist of the master armourer. The broken pieces had made a wound in the skull, from which bloodflowed freely. And in the uncertain light of the torch Malise couldnot make any prolonged examination. "Let us tak' the callant up to the tap o' the hoose, " he said atlast; "we can put him in the far ben garret till we see if he is gaunto turn up his braw silver-taed shoon. " Without waiting for any permission or dissent, the smith of Carlinwarktucked his late opponent under his arm as easily as an ordinary manmight carry a puppy. Then, sheathing their swords, the other threeScots made haste to leave the place, for the gleaming of lanthornscould already be seen down the street, which might either mark theadvent of the city watch or the return of the enemy withreinforcements. It was to a towering house with barred windows and great doors thatthe four Scots retreated. Entering cautiously by a side portal, Maliseled the way with his burden. This mansion had been the town residenceof the first Duke of Touraine, Archibald the Tineman. It had beenoccupied by the English for military purposes during their tenancy ofthe city, and now that they were gone, it had escaped by its verydilapidation the fate of the other possessions of the house of Douglasin France. James Douglas had obtained the keys from Gervais Bonpoint, the trustyagent of the Avondales in Paris, who also attended to the foreignconcerns of most others of the Scottish nobility. So the four men hadtaken possession, none saying them nay, and, indeed, in the disorderedstate of the government, but few being aware of their presence. Upon an old bedstead hastily covered with plaids, Malise proceeded tomake his prisoner comfortable. Then, having washed the wound andcarefully examined it by candlelight, he pronounced his verdict: "The young cheat-the-wuddie will do yet, and live to swing by the langcord about his craig!" Which, when interpreted in the vulgar, conveyed at once an expectationof a life to be presently prolonged to the swarthy de Sillé, but aftera time to be cut suddenly short by the hangman. Every day James Douglas and Sholto haunted the precincts of the Hotelde Pornic and made certain that its terrible master had not departed. Malise wished to leave Paris and proceed at once to the DeRetz country, there to attempt in succession the marshal's greatcastles of Machecoul, Tiffauges, and Champtocé, in some one of whichhe was sure that the stolen maids must be immured. But James Douglas and Sholto earnestly dissuaded him from theadventure. How did they know (they reminded him) in which to look?They were all fortresses of large extent, well garrisoned, and it wasas likely as not that they might spend their whole time fruitlesslyupon one, without gaining either knowledge or advantage. Besides, they argued it was not likely that any harm would befall themaids so long as their captor remained in Paris--that is, none whichhad not already overtaken them on their journey as prisoners on boardthe marshal's ships. So the Hotel de Pornic and its inhabitants remained under the strictespionage of Sholto and Lord James, while up in the garret in the Ruedes Ursulines Laurence nursed his brother clerk and Malise satgloomily polishing and repolishing the weapons and secret armour ofthe party. It was the evening of the third day before the "clout" showed signsof healing. Its recipient had been conscious on the second day, but, finding himself a prisoner in the hands of the enemy, he had beennaturally enough inclined to be a little sulky and suspicious. But thebright carelessness of Laurence, who dashed at any speech in idiomaticbut ungrammatical outlander's French, gradually won upon him. As alsothe fact that Laurence was clerk-learned and could sing and play uponthe viol with surprising skill for one so young. The prisoner never tired of watching the sunny curls upon the brow ofLaurence MacKim, as he wandered about trying the benches, the chairs, and even the floor in a hundred attitudes in search of a comfortableposition. "Ah, " the sallow youth said at last, one afternoon as he lay on hispallet, "you should be one of the choristers of my master's chapel. You can sing like an angel!" "Well, " laughed Laurence in reply, "I would be indeed content, if hebe a good master, and if in his house it snoweth wherewithal to eatand drink. But tell me what unfortunate may have the masterage of soprofitless a servant as yourself?" "I am the poor gentleman Gilles de Sillé of the household of theMarshal de Retz!" answered the swarthy youth, readily. "De Silly indeed to bide with such a master!" quoth Laurence, with hisusual prompt heedlessness of consequences. The sallow youth with his bandaged head did not understand the poorjest, but, taking offence at the tone, he instantly reared himself onhis elbow and darted a look at Laurence from under brows so loweringand searching that Laurence fell back in mock terror. "Nay, " he cried, shaking at the knees and letting his hands swingludicrously by his sides, "do not affright a poor clerk! If you lookat me like that I will call the cook from yonder eating-stall toprotect me with his basting-ladle. I wot if he fetches you one on theother side of your cracked sconce, you will never take service againwith the Marshal de Retz. " "What know you of my master?" reiterated Gilles de Sillé, glowering athis mercurial jailer, without heeding his persiflage. "Why, nothing at all, " said Laurence, truthfully, "except that whilewe stood listening to the singing of the choir within his hotel, apoor woman came crying for her son, whom (so she declared) the marshalhad kidnapped. Whereat came forth the guard from within, and thrusther away. Then arrived you and your varlets and got your heads brokenfor your impudence. That is all I know or want to know of yourmaster. " Gilles de Sillé lay back on his pallet with a sigh, still, however, continuing to watch the lad's countenance. "You should indeed take service with the marshal. He is the mostlavish and generous master alive. He thinks no more of giving ahandful of gold pieces to a youth with whom he is taken than ofthrowing a crust to a beggar at his gate. He owns the finest provincein all the west from side to side. He has castles well nigh a dozen, finer and stronger than any in France. He has a college of priests, and the service at his oratory is more nobly intoned than that in theprivate chapel of the Holy Father himself. When he goes in processionhe has a thurifer carried before him by the Pope's special permission. And I tell you, you are just the lad to take his fancy. That I cansee at a glance. I warrant you, Master Laurence, if you will come withme, the marshal will make your fortune. " "Did the other young fellow make his fortune?" said Laurence. Gillesde Sillé glared as if he could have slain him. "What other?" he growled, truculently. "Why, the son of the poor woman who cried beneath your kind master'swindow the night before yestreen'. " The lank swarthy youth ground his teeth. "'Tis ill speaking against dignities, " he replied presently, with acertain sullen pride. "I daresay the young fellow took service withthe marshal to escape from home, and is in hiding at Tiffauges, ormayhap Machecoul itself. Or he may well have been listening at somelattice of the Hotel de Pornic itself to the idiot clamour of hismother and of the ignorant rabble of Paris!" "Your master loves the society of the young?" queried Laurence, mending carefully a string of his viol and keeping the end of thecatgut in his mouth as he spoke. "He doats on all young people, " answered Gilles de Sillé, eagerly, theflicker of a smile running about his mouth like wild-fire over a swamp. "Why, when a youth of parts once takes service with my master, henever leaves it for any other, not even the King's!" Which in its way was a true enough statement. "Well, " quoth Master Laurence, when he had tied his string andfinished cocking his viol and twingle-twangling it to hissatisfaction, "you speak well. And I am not sure but what I may thinkof it. I am tired both of working for my father without pay, and ofsinging psalms in a monastery to please my lord Abbot. Moreover, inthis city of Paris I have to tell every jack with a halbert that I amnot the son of the King of England, and then after all as like as nothe marches me to the bilboes!" "Of what nativity are you?" asked de Sillé. "Och, I'm all of a rank Irelander, and my name is Laurence O'Halloran, at your service, " quoth the rogue, without a blush. For among otheraccomplishments which he had learned at the Abbey of Dulce Cor, wasthat of lying with the serene countenance of an angel. Indeed, as wehave seen, he had the rudiments of the art in him before setting outfrom the tourneying field at Glenlochar on his way to holy orders. "Then you will come with me to-morrow?" said Gilles, smiling. Laurence listened to make sure that neither his father nor Sholto wasapproaching the garret. "I will go with you on two conditions, " he said: "you shall notmention my purpose to the others, and when we escape, I must put abandage over your eyes till we are half a dozen streets away. " "Why, done with you--after all you are a right gamesome cock, myIrelander, " cried Gilles, whom the conditions pleased even better thanLaurence's promise to accompany him. Then, lending the prisoner his viol wherewith to amuse himself andlocking the door, Laurence made an excuse to go to the kitchen, wherehe laughed low to himself, chuckling in his joy as he deftly handledthe saucepans. "Aha, Master Sholto, you are the captain of the guard and a knight, forsooth, and I am but poor clerk Laurence--as you have ofttimesreminded me. But I will show you a shift worth two of watching outsidethe door of the marshal's hotel for tidings of the maids. I will gowhere the marshal goes, and see all he sees. And then, when the timecomes, why, I will rescue them single-handed and thereafter make up mymind which of them I shall marry, whether Sholto's sweetheart or theFair Maid of Galloway herself. " Thus headlong Laurence communed with himself, not knowing what he saidnor to what terrible adventure he was committing himself. But Gilles de Sillé of the house of the Marshal de Retz, being left tohimself in the half darkness of the garret, took up the viol and sanga curious air like that with which the charmer wiles his snakes tohim, and at the end of every verse, he also laughed low to himself. CHAPTER XLV THE BOASTING OF GILLES DE SILLÉ But, as fate would have it, it was not in the Hotel de Pornic nor yetin the city of Paris that Laurence O'Halloran was destined to enterthe service of the most mighty Marshal de Retz. Not till three days after his converse with the prisoner did Laurencefind an opportunity of escaping from the house in the street of theUrsulines. Sholto and his father meantime kept their watch upon themansion of the enemy, turn and turn about; but without discoveringanything pertinent to their purpose, or giving Laurence a chance toget clear off with Gilles de Sillé. The Lord James had also frequentlyadventured forth, as he declared, in order to spy out the land, thoughit is somewhat sad to relate that this espionage conducted itself inregions which gave more opportunities for investigating the peculiardelights of Paris than of discovering the whereabouts of Maud Lindesayand his cousin, the Fair Maid of Galloway. The head of Gilles de Sillé was still swathed in bandages when, withan additional swaddling of disguise across his eyes, he and Laurence, that truant scion of the house of O'Halloran, stole out into thenight. A frosty chill had descended with the darkness, and a pale, dank mist from the marshes of the Seine made the pair shiver as arm inarm they ventured carefully forth. Laurence was doing a foolish, even a wicked, thing in thus, withoutwarning, deserting his companions. But he was just at the age when itis the habit of youth to deceive themselves with the thought that ashred of good intent covers a world of heedless folly. The fugitives found the Hotel de Pornic practically deserted. Theyapproached it cautiously from the back, lest they should run into thearms of any of the numerous enemies of its terrible lord, who, thoughnot abhorred in Paris as in most other places which he favoured withhis visits, had yet little love spent upon him even there. The custodian in the stone cell by the gate came yawning out to thebars at the sound of Gilles de Sillé's knocking, and after a growl ofdisfavour admitted the youth and his companion. "What, gone--my master gone!" cried Gilles, striking his hand on histhigh with an astounded air, "impossible!" "It was, indeed, a thing particularly unthoughtful and discourteous ofmy Lord de Retz, Marshal of France and Chamberlain of the King, toundertake a journey without consulting you, " replied the man, whoconsidered irony his strong point, but feebly concealing his pleasureat the favourite's discomfiture; "we all know upon what terms yourhonourable self is with my lord. But you must not blame him, for hewaited whole twenty-four hours for news of you. It was reported thatyou were set upon by four giants, and that your bones, crushed like afilbert, had been discovered in the horse pond at the back of theConvent of the Virgins of Complaisance. " Gilles de Sillé looked as if he could very well have murdered thespeaker on the spot. His favour with his lord was evidently not athing of repute in his master's household. So much was clear toLaurence, who, for the first time, began to have fears as to his ownreception, having such an unpopular person as voucher and introducer. "If you do not keep a civil tongue in your head, sirrah Labord, "--theyouth hissed the words through his clenched teeth, --"I will have yourthroat cut. " "Ah, I am too old, " said the man, boldly; "besides, this is Paris, andI have been twenty years concierge to his Grace the Duke of Orleans. Iand my wife have his secrets even as you, most noble Sire de Sillé, possess those of my new master. You, or he either, by God's grace, will think twice before cutting my throat. Moreover, you will be goodenough at this point to state your business or get to bed. For I amoff to mine. I serve my master, but I am not compelled to spend thenight parleying with his lacqueys. " Now the concierges of Paris are very free and independent personages, and their tongues are accustomed to wag freely and to some purpose intheir heads. "Whither has my master gone?" asked de Sillé, curbing his wrath inorder to get an answer. "He _said_ that he went to Tiffauges. Whether that be true, you havebetter means of knowing than I. " The swarthy youth turned to Laurence. "How much money have you, Master O'Halloran? I have spent all of mine, and this city swine will not lend me a single sou for my expenses. Wemust to the stables and follow the Sieur de Retz forthwith toBrittany. " "I have ten golden angels which the prior of the convent gave me atmy departure, " said Laurence, with some pride. His companion nodded approvingly. "So much will see us through--that is, with care. Give them here tome, " he added after a moment's thought; "I will pay them out with moreeconomy, being of the country through which we pass. " But Laurence, though sufficiently headlong and reckless, had not beenborn a Scot for naught. "Wait till there is necessity, " he replied cautiously, "and the angelsshall not be lacking. Till then they are quite safe with me. Forsecurity I carry them in a secret place ill to be gotten at hastily. " Gilles de Sillé turned away with some movement of impatience, yetwithout saying another word upon the subject. "To the stables, " he said; then turning to the concierge he added, "Isuppose we can have horses to ride after my lord?" "So far as I am concerned, " growled Labord, "you can have all thehorses you want--and break your necks off each one of them if youwill. It will save some good hemp and hangman's hire. Such devil'sdogs as you two be bear your dooms ready written on your faces. " And this saying nettled our Laurence, who prided himself no little onan allure blonde and gallant. But Gilles de Sillé cared no whit for the servitor's sneers, so longas they got horses between their knees and escaped out of Paris thatnight. In an hour they were ready to start, and Laurence had expendedone of his gold angels on the provend for the journey, which hiscompanion and he stored in their saddle-bags. And in this manner, like an idle lad who for mischief puts body and soulin peril, went forth Laurence MacKim to take up service with theredoubtable Messire Gilles de Laval, Sieur de Retz, High Chamberlain ofCharles the Seventh, Marshal of France, and lately companion-in-arms ofthe martyred Maid of Orleans. Now, before he went forth from the street of the Ursulines, he hadlaid a sealed letter on the bed of his brother, which ran thus: "Ha, Sir Sholto MacKim, while you stand about in the rain and shiver underyour cloak, I am off to find out the mystery. When I have done allwithout assistance from the wise Sir Sholto, I will return. But notbefore. Fare your knightship well. " Laurence and Gilles de Sillé rode out of Paris by the Versailles road, and the latter insisted on silence till they had passed the forest ofSt. Cyr, which was at that time exceedingly dangerous for horsemen nottravelling in large companies. Once they were fairly on the road toChartres, however, and clear of the valley of the Seine and itstangled boscage of trees, Gilles relaxed sufficiently to break abottle of wine to the success of their journey and to the new serviceand duty upon which Laurence was to enter at the end of it. Having proposed this toast, he handed the bumper first to Laurence, who, barely tasting the excellent Poitevin vintage, handed theleathern bottle back to de Sillé. That sallow youth immediately, without giving his companion a second chance, proceeded to quaff theentire contents of the pigskin. Then as the stiff brew penetrated downwards, it was not long beforethe favourite of the marshal began to wax full of vanity and swellingwords. "I tell you what it is, " he said, "there would be trembling in theheart of a very great man when the nine cravens returned without me. For I am no shaveling ignoramus, but a gentleman of birth; aye, andone who, though poor, is a near cousin of the marshal himself. Iwarrant the rascals who ran away would smart right soundly for leavingme behind. For Gilles de Sillé is no simpleton. He knows more than iswritten down in the catechism of Holy Church. None can touch my favourwith my lord, no matter what they testify against me. For me I haveonly to ask and have. That is why I take such pride in bringing you tomy Lord of Retz. I know that he will give you a post about his person, and if you are not a simple fool you may go very far. For my master isa friend of the King and, what is better, of Louis the Dauphin. He gatthe King back a whole province--a dukedom so they say, from the handsof some Scots fool that had it off his grandfather for deeds done inthe ancient wars. And in return the King will protect my masteragainst all his enemies. Do I not speak the truth?" Laurence hoped that he did, but liked not the veiled hints andinsinuations of some surprising secret in the life of the marshal, possessed by his dear cousin and well-beloved servant Gilles de Sillé. With an ever loosening tongue the favourite went on: "A great soldier is our master--none greater, not even Dunois himself. Why, he rode into Orleans at the right hand of the Maid. None in allthe army was so great with her as he. I tell you, Charles himselfliked it not, and that was the beginning of all the bother of talkabout my lord--ignorant gabble of the countryside I call it. Lord, ifthey only knew what I know, then, indeed--but enough. Marshal Gillesis a mighty scholar as well, and hath Henriet the clerk--a weak, bleating ass that will some day blab if my master permit me not toslice his gizzard in time--he hath him up to read aloud Latin by themile, all out of the books called Suetonius and Tacitus--suchhigh-flavoured tales and full of--well, of things such as my masterloves. " So ran Gilles de Sillé on as the miles fled back behind their horses'heels and the towers of Chartres rose grey and solemn through themorning mists before the travellers. CHAPTER XLVI THE COUNTRY OF THE DREAD The three remaining Scottish palmers were riding due west into asunset which hung like a broad red girdle over the Atlantic. All thesky above their heads was blue grey and lucent. But along the horizon, as it seemed for the space of two handbreadths, there was suspendedthis bandolier of flaming scarlet. The adventurers were not weary of their quest. They were only sick atheart with the fruitlessness of it. First upon leaving Paris they had gone on to the Castle of Champtocé, and from beneath had surveyed the noble range of battlements crowningthe heights above the broad, poplar-guarded levels of the Loire. TheChateau de Thouars also they had seen, a small white-gabled house, most like a Scottish baron's tower, which the Marshal de Retzpossessed in virtue of his neglected wife Katherine. In it her sisterthe Lady Sybilla had been born. Solitary and tenantless, save for acouple of guards and their uncovenanted womenkind, it looked down onits green island meadows, while on the horizon hung the smoke of thewood fires lit at morn and eve by the good wives of Nantes. To that place the three had next journeyed and had there beheld thegreat Hotel de Suze, set like an enemy's fortress in the midst of theturbulent city, over against the Castle of the King. But the Hotel, though held like a place of arms, was untenanted by the marshal, hisretinue, or the lost Scottish maids. Next they found the strong Castle of Tiffauges, above the green andrippling waters of the Sevres, void also as the others. No lightgleamed out of that window of sinister repute, high up in thecliff-like wall, from which strange shapes were reported to look fortheven at deep midnoon. North, south, and east the three had ridden through the country ofRetz. There remained but Machecoul, more remote and also darker inrepute than any of the other dwelling-places of Gilles de Retz. Asthey rode westward towards it, they became day by day more consciousof the darkening down of the atmosphere of fear and suspicion, which, murky and lowering, overhung all that fair land of southern Brittany. The vast pine forests from which rose the lonely towers of this themarshal's most remote castle could now be seen, serrated darklyagainst the broad belt of the sky. The sombre blackness of theirspreading branches, the yet blacker darkness where the gaps betweentheir red trunks showed a way into the wood, increased the gloom ofthe weary travellers. Yet they rode on, Sholto eagerly, Malise grimly, and the Lord James with the dogged resignation of a good knight whomay be depended on to see an adventure through, however irksome it maybe proving. James of Avondale thought within himself that the others had greaterinterests in the quest than he--the younger MacKim having at stake thehonour of his sweetheart Maud, the elder the life of his youngmistress, the last of the Galloway house of Douglas. Yet it was with that jolly heart of his beating strong and loyal underhis brown palmer's coat, that James Douglas rode towards Machecoul, only whistling low to himself and wishing that something would happento break the monotony of their journey. Nor had he long to wait. For just as the sun was setting they rode allthree of them abreast into the little hamlet of Saint Philbert, andsaw the sullen waters of the Étang de Grande Lieu spread marshy andbrackish as far as the eye could reach, edged by peat bogs andoverhung perilously by gloomy pines nodding over pools blacker thanscrivener's ink. As the three Scots looked into the stockaded entrance of the village, they could see the children playing on the long, irregular street, andthe elder folk sitting about their doors in the evening light. But as soon as the clatter of horses' hoofs was heard, borne from fardown the aisles of the forest, there arose a sudden clamour and acrying. From each little sparred enclosure rushed forth a woman whosnatched a baby here and there and drove a herd of children before herindoors, glancing around and behind her as she did so with the anxiouslook of a motherly barn-door fowl when the hawk hangs poised in thewindless sky. By the time the three men had entered the gate and ridden up thevillage street, all was silent and dark. The windows were shut, thedoors were barred, and the village had become a street of livingtombs. "What means this?" said the Lord James; "the people are surely afraidof us. " "'Tis doubtless but their wonted welcome to their lord, the Sieur deRetz. He seems to be popular wherever he goes, " said Malise, grimly;"but let us dismount and see if we can get stabling for our beasts. Did they not tell us there was not another house for miles betwixthere and Machecoul?" So without waiting for dissent or counter opinion, the master armourerwent directly up to the door of the most respectable-appearing housein the village, one which stood a little back from the road and wassurrounded by a wall. Here he dismounted and knocked loudly with hissword-hilt upon the outer gate. The noise reverberated up and down thestreet, and was tossed back in undiminished volume from the green wallof pines which hemmed in the village. But there was no answer, and Malise grew rapidly weary of his ownclamour. "Hold my bridle, " he said curtly to Sholto, and with a single push ofhis shoulders he broke the wooden bar, and the two halves of the outergate fell apart before him. A great, smooth-haired yellow dog of thecountry rushed furiously at the intruders, but Malise, who was asdexterous as he was powerful, received him with so sound a buffet onthe head that he paused bewildered, shaking his ears, whereat Malisepicked him up, tucked him under his arm, and with thumbs about hiswindpipe effectually choked his barking. Then releasing him, Malisetook no further notice of this valorous enemy, and the poor, loyal, baffled beast, conscious of defeat, crept shamefacedly away to hidehis disgrace among the faggots. But Malise was growing indignant and therefore dangerous and ill tocross. "Never did I see such mannerless folk, " he growled; "they will noteven give a stranger a word or a bite for his beast. " Then he called to his companions, "Come hither and speak to thesecravens ere I burst their inner doors as well. " At this by no means empty threat came the Lord James and spoke aloudin his cheery voice to those within the silent house: "Good people, weare no robbers, but poor travellers and strangers. Be not afraid. Allwe want is that you should tell us which house is the inn that we mayreceive refreshment for ourselves and our horses. " Then there came a voice from behind the door: "There is no inn nearerthan Pornic. We are poor people and cannot support one. We pray yourhighness to depart in peace. " "But, good sir, " answered James Douglas, "that we cannot do. Oursteeds are foot weary with a long day's journey. Give us the shelterof your barns and a bundle of fodder and we will be content. We havefood and drink with us. Open, and be not afraid. " "Of what country are you? Are you of the household of the Sieur deRetz?" "Nay, " cried James again, "we are pilgrims returning to our own cityof Albi in the Tarn country. We know nothing of any Sieur de Retz. Look forth from a window and satisfy yourself. " "Then if there be treachery in your hearts, beware, " said thetremulous voice again; "for I have four young men here by me whosepowder guns are even now ready to fire from all the windows if youmean harm. " A white face looked out for a moment from the casement, and as quicklyducked within. Then the voice continued its bleating. "My lords, I will open the door. But forgive the fears of a poor oldman in a wide, empty house. " The door opened and a curious figure appeared within. It was a manapparently decrepit and trembling, who in one hand carried a lanternand in the other a staff over which he bent with many wheezings ofexhausted breath. "What would you with a poor old man?" he said. "We would have shelter and fodder, if it please you to give them to usfor the sake of God's grace. " The old man trembled so vehemently that he was in danger of shakingout the rushlight which flickered dismally in his wooden lantern. "I am a poor, poor man, " he quavered; "I have naught in the world savesome barley meal and a little water. " "That will do famously, " said James Douglas; "we are hungry men, andwill pay well for all you give us. " The countenance of the cripple instantly changed. He looked up at thespeaker with an alert expression. "Pay, " he said, "pay--did you not say you would pay? Why, I thoughtyou were gentlefolks! Now, by that I know that you are none, but ofthe commonalty like myself. " James Douglas took a gold angel out of his belt and threw it to him. The cripple collapsed upon the top of the piece of money and gropedvainly for it with eager, outspread fingers in the dust of the yard. "I cannot find it, good gentleman, " he piped, shrill as an east wind;"alas, what shall I do? Poor Cćsar cannot find it. It was not a pieceof gold;--do tell me that it was not a piece of gold; to lose a pieceof gold, that were ruin indeed. " Sholto picked up the lantern which had slipped from his tremblinghand. The tallow was beginning to gutter out as it lay on its side, and a moment's search showed him the gold glittering on some farmyardrubbish. With a little shrill cry like a frightened bird the old manfell upon it, as it had been with claws. "Bite upon it and see if the gold be good, " said Sholto, smiling. "Alas, " cried the cripple, "I have but one tooth. But I know the coin. It is of the right mintage and greasiness. O lovely gold! Beautifulgentlemen, bide where you are and I will be back with you in amoment. " And the old man limped away with astonishing quickness to hide hisacquisition, lest, mayhap, his guests should repent them and retracttheir liberality. CHAPTER XLVII CĆSAR MARTIN'S WIFE Presently he returned and conducted them to a decent stable, wherethey saw their beasts bestowed and well provided with bedding andforage for the night. Then the old cripple, more than ever bent uponhis stick, but nevertheless chuckling to himself all the way, precededthem into the house. "Ah, she is clever, " he muttered; "she thinks her demon tells hereverything. But even La Meffraye will not know where I have hiddenthat beautiful gold. " So he sniggered senilely to himself between his fits of coughing. It was a low, wide room of strange aspect into which the old manconducted his guests. The floor was of hard-beaten earth, but cleanlykept and firm to the feet. The fireplace, with a hearth round it ofbuilt stone, was placed in the midst, and from the rafters dependedmany chains and hooks. A wooden settle ran half round the hearthstoneon the side farthest from the draught of the door. The weary three satdown and stretched their limbs. The fire had burnt low, and Sholto, reaching to a faggot heap by the side wall, began to toss on boughs ofgreen birch in handfuls, till the lovely white flame arose and the sapspat and hissed in explosive puffs. _"Birk when 'tis green Makes a fire for a king!"_ Malise hummed the old Scots lines, and the cripple coming in at thatmoment raised a shrill bark of protest. "My good wood, my fuel that cost me so many sore backs--be careful, young sir. Faggots of birch are dear in this country of Machecoul. Mylord is of those who give nothing for naught. " "Oh, we shall surely pay for what we use, " cried careless James; "letus eat, and warm our toes, and therewith have somewhat less of thyprating, old dotard. It can be shrewdly cold in this westerly countryof yours. " "Pay, " cried the old man, holding up his clawed hands; "do you mean_more_ pay--more besides the beautiful gold angel? Here--" He ran out and presently returned with armful after armful of faggots, while his guests laughed to find his mood so changed. "Here, " he cried, running to and fro like a fretful hen, "take it all, and when that is done, this also, and this. Nay, I will stay up allnight to carry more from the forest of Machecoul. " "And you who were so afraid to open to three honest men, would youventure to bring faggots by night from yon dark wood?" "Nay, " said the old man, cunningly, "I meant not from the forest, butfrom my neighbours' woodpiles. Yet for lovely gold I would evenventure to go thither--that is, if I had my image of the BlessedMother about my neck and the moon shone very bright. " "Now haste thee with the barley brew, " said Lord James, "for mystomach is as deep as a well and as empty as the purse of a youngerson. " The strange cripple emitted another bird-like cachinnation, resemblingthe sound which is made by the wooden cogwheels wherewithal boysfright the crows from the cornfields when the August sun is yellowingthe land. "Poor old Cćsar Martin can show you something better than that, " hecried, as he hirpled out (for so Malise described it afterwards) andpresently returned dragging a great iron pot with a strength whichseemed incredible in so ramshackle a body. "Ha! ha!" he said, "here is fragrant stew; smell it. Is it not good?In ten minutes it will be so hot and toothsome that you will scarcehave patience to wait till it be decently cool in the platters. Thisis not common Angevin stew, but Bas Breton--which is a far betterthing. " Malise rose, and, relieving the old man, with one finger swung the potto a crook that hung over the cheerful blaze of the birchwood. The old cripple Cćsar Martin now mounted on a stool and stirred themess with a long stick, at the end of which was a steel fork of twoprongs. And as he stirred he talked: "God bless you, say I, brave gentlemen and good pilgrims. Surely itwas a wind noble and fortunate that blew you hither to taste my broth. There be fine pigeons here, fat and young. There be leverets juicy andtender as a maid untried. There--what think you of that?" (he heldeach ingredient up on a prong as he spoke). "And here be larks, partridge stuffed with sage, ripe chestnuts from La Valery, andwhisper it not to any of the marshal's men, a fawn from the park of amonth old, dressed like a kid so that none may know. " "I suppose that so much providing is for your four sons?" said Sholto. The cripple laughed again his feeble, fleering laugh. "I have no sons, honest sir, " he said; "it was but a weakling's policyto tell you so, lest there should have been evil in your hearts. But Ihave a wife and that is enough. You may have heard of her. She iscalled La Meffraye. " As he spoke his face took on an access of white terror, even as it haddone when he looked out of the window. "La Meffraye is she well named, " he repeated the appellation with aharsh croak as of a night-hawk screaming. "God forfend that she shouldcome home to-night and find you here!" "Why, good sir, " smiled James Douglas, "if that be the manner in whichyou speak of your housewife, faith, I am right glad to have remained abachelor. " Cćsar the cripple looked about him and lowered his voice. "Hush!" he quavered, breathing hard so that his words whistled betweenhis toothless gums, "you do not know my wife. I tell you, she is thefamiliar of the marshal himself. " "Then, " cried James Douglas, slapping his thigh, "she is young andpretty, of a surety. I know what these soldiers are familiar with. Iwould that she would come home and partake with us now. " "Nay, " said the old man, without taking offence, "you mistake, kindsir, I meant familiar in witchcraft, in devilry--not (as it were) inlevity and cozenage. " The fragrant stew was now ready to be dished in great platters ofwood, and the guests fell to keenly, each being provided with a woodenspoon. The meat they cut with their daggers, but the most part was, however, tender enough to come apart in their fingers, which, as allknow, better preserves the savour. At first the cripple denied having any wine, but another gold angelfrom the Lord James induced him to draw a leathern bottle from somesecret hoard, and decant it into a pitcher for them. It was resinousand Spanish, but, as Malise said, "It made warm the way it went down. "And after all with wine that is always the principal thing. As the feast proceeded old Cćsar Martin told the three Scots why thelong street of the village had been cleared of children so quickly atthe first sound of their horses' feet. "And in truth if you had not come across the moor, but along thebeaten track from the Chateau of Machecoul, you would never havecaught so much as a glimpse of any child or mother in all SaintPhilbert. " At this point he beckoned Sholto, Malise, and the Lord James to comenearer to him, and standing with his back to the fire and their threeheads very close, he related the terrible tale of the Dread that foreight years had stalked grim and gaunt through the westlands ofFrance, La Vendée, and Bas Bretagne. In all La Vendée there was not avillage that had not lost a child. In many a hamlet about the shoresof the sunny Loire was there scarce a house from which one had notvanished. They were seen playing in the greenwood, the eye was lifted, and lo! they were not. A boy went to the well. An hour after hispitcher stood beside it filled to the brim. But he himself was nevermore seen by holt or heath. A little maid, sweet and innocent, lookedover the churchyard wall; she spied something that pleased her. Sheclimbed over to get it--and was not. "Oh, I could tell you of a thousand such if I had time, " shrilled thethin treble of the cripple in their eager ears, "if I dared--if I onlydared!" "Dared, " said Malise; "why man--what is the matter with you? Nonecould hear you but we three men. " "My wife--my wife, " he quavered; "I bid you be silent, or at leastspeak not so loud. La Meffraye she is called--she can hear all things. See--" He made a sudden movement and bared his right arm. It was withered tothe shoulder and of a dark purple colour approaching black. "La Meffraye did that, " he gasped; "she blasted it because I would notdo the evil she wished. " "Then why do you not kill her?" said Malise, whose methods were notsubtle. "If she were mine, I would throttle her, and give her body tothe hounds. " "Hush, I bid you be silent for dear God's sake in whom I believe, "again came the voice of the cripple. "You do not know what you say. LaMeffraye cannot die. Perhaps she will vanish away in a blast of thefire of hell--one day when God is very strong and angry. But shecannot die. She only leads others to death. She dies not herself. " "You are kind, gentlemen, " he went on after a pause, finding themcontinue silent; "I will show you all. Pray the saint for me at hisshrine that I may die and go to purgatory. Or (if it were to adifferent one) even to hell--that I might escape for ever from LaMeffraye. " His hand fumbled a moment at the closely buttoned collar of his blueblouse. Then he succeeded in undoing it and showed his neck. From chinto bosom it was a mass of ghastly bites, some partially healed, moreof them recent and yet raw, while the skin, so far as the three Scotscould observe it, was covered with a hieroglyphic of scratches, clawmarks, and, as it seemed, the bites of some fierce wild beast. "Great Master of Heaven!" cried James Douglas. "What hell hound hathdone this to you?" "The wife of my bosom, " quoth very grimly Cćsar the cripple. "A good evening to you, gentlemen all, " said a soft and winning voicefrom the doorway. At the sound the old man staggered, reeled, and would have swayed intothe fire had not Sholto seized him and dragged him out upon the floor. All rose to their feet. In the doorway of the cottage stood an old woman, small, smiling, delicate of feature. She looked benignly upon them and continued tosmile. Her hair and her eyes were her most noticeable features. Theformer was abundant and hung loosely about the woman's brow and overher shoulders in wisps of a curious greenish white, the colour almostof mouldy cheese, while, under shaggy white eyebrows, her large eyesshone piercing and green as emerald stones on the hand of some duskymonarch of the Orient. The old woman it was who spoke first, before any of the men couldrecover from their surprise. "My husband, " she said, still calmly smiling upon them, "my poorhusband has doubtless been telling you his foolish tales. The saintshave permitted him to become demented. It is a great trial to a poorwoman like me, but the will of heaven be done!" The three Scots stood silent and transfixed, for it was an age ofbelief. But the cripple lay back on the settle where Sholto had placedhim, his lips white and gluey. And as he lay he muttered audibly, "LaMeffraye! La Meffraye! Oh, what will become of poor Cćsar Martin thisnight!" CHAPTER XLVIII THE MERCY OF LA MEFFRAYE It was a strange night that which the three Scots spent in the littlehouse standing back from the street of Saint Philbert on the gloomyedges of the forest of Machecoul. The hostess, indeed, was unweariedlykind and brought forth from her store many dainties for theirdelectation. She talked with touching affection of her poor husband, afflicted with these strange fits of wolfish mania, in the paroxysmsof which he was wont to tear himself and grovel in the dust like abeast. This she told them over and over as she moved about setting beforethem provend from secret stores of her own, obviously unknown orperhaps forbidden to Cćsar Martin. Wild bee honey from the woods she placed before them and white wheatenbread, such as could not be got nearer than Paris, with wine of somerarer vintage than that out of the cripple's resinous pigskin. Theseand much else La Meffraye pressed upon them till she had completelywon over the Lord James, and even Malise, easy natured like most verystrong men, was taken by the sympathetic conversation and graciouskindliness of the wife of poor afflicted Cćsar Martin of SaintPhilbert. Only Sholto kept his suspicion edged and pointed, andresolved that he would not sleep that night, but watch till the dawnthe things which might befall in the house on the forest's border. Yet it was conspicuously to Sholto that La Meffraye directed most ofher blandishments. Her ruddy face, so bright that it seemed almost as if wholly coveredwith a birthmark, gleamed with absolute good nature as she looked athim. She threw off the black veil which half concealed her strangecoiffure of green toadstool-coloured hair. She placed her choicestmorsels before the young captain of the Douglas guard. "'Tis hard, " she said, touching him confidentially on the shoulder, "hard to dwell here in this country wherein so many deeds of blood arewrought, alone with a poor imbecile like my husband. None cares tohelp me with aught, all being too busy with their own affairs. Itfalls on me to till the fields, which, scanty as they are, are morethan my feeble strength can compass unaided. Alone I must prune andwater the vines, bring in the firewood, and go out and in by night andday to earn a scanty living for this afflicted one and myself. Youwill hear, perchance, mischief laid to my charge in this village ofevil speakers and lazy folk. They hate me because I am no gadabout tospend time abusing my neighbours at the village well. But the childrenlove me, and that is no ill sign. Their young hearts are open to lovea poor lone old woman. What cares La Meffraye for the sneers of theignorant and prejudiced so long as the children run to her gladly andsearch her pockets for the good things she never forgets to bring themfrom her kitchen?" So the old woman, talking all the time, bustled here and there, setting sweet cakes baked with honey, confitures and bairns' goodies, figs, almonds, and cheese before her guests. But through all herblandishments Sholto watched her and had his eyes warily upon whatshould befall her husband, who could be seen lying apparently eitherasleep or unconscious upon the bed in an inner room. "You do not speak like the folk of the south, " she said to the LordJames. "Neither are you Northmen nor of the Midi. From what countrymay you come?" The question dropped casually as to fill up the time. "We are poor Scots who have lived under the protection of your goodKing Charles, the seventh of that name, and having been restored toour possessions after the turning out of the English, we are making apilgrimage in order to visit our friends and also to lay our thanksupon the altar of the blessed Saint Andrew in his own town inScotland. " The old woman listened, approvingly nodding her head as the Lord Jamesreeled off this new and original narrative. But at the mention of theland of the Scots La Meffraye pricked her ears. "Scots, " she said meditatively; "that will surely interest my lord, who hath but recently returned from that country, whither they say hehath been upon a very confidential embassy from the King. " It was the Lord James who asked the next question. "Have you heard whether any of our nation returned with him from ourcountry? We would gladly meet with any such, that we might hear againthe tongue of our nativity, which is ever sweet in a strange land--andalso, if it might be, take back tidings of them to their folk inScotland. " "Nay, " answered La Meffraye, standing before them with her eyesshrewdly fixed upon the face of the speaker, "I have heard of nonesuch. Yet it may well be, for the marshal is very fond of the societyof the young, even as I am myself. He has many boy singers in hischoir, maidens also for his religious processions. Indeed, never do Ivisit Machecoul without finding a pretty boy or a stripling girlpassing so innocently in and out of his study, that it is a pleasureto behold. " "Is his lordship even now at Machecoul?" asked James Douglas, bluntly. The Lord James prided himself upon his tact, but when he set out tomanifest it, Sholto groaned inwardly. He was never certain from onemoment to another what the reckless young Lord might do or say next. "I do not even know whether the marshal is now at Machecoul. The richand great, they come and go, and we poor folk understand it no morethan the passing of the wind or the flight of the birds. But let usget to our couches. The morn will soon be here, and it must not findour bodies unrested or our eyes unrefreshed. " La Meffraye showed her guests where to make their beds in the outerroom of the cottage, which they did by moving the bench back andstretching themselves with their heads to the wall and their feet tothe fire. Sholto lay on the side furthest from the entrance of theroom to which La Meffraye had retired with her husband. Malise was onthe other side, and Lord James lay in the midst, as befitted his rank. These last were instantly asleep, being tired with their journey andheavy with the meal of which they had partaken. But every sense inSholto's body was keenly awake. A vague inexpressible fear possessedhim. He lay watching the red unequal glow thrown upwards from theembers, and through the wide opening in the roof he could discern thetwinkling of a star. Within the chamber of La Meffraye there was silence. Sholto could noteven hear the heavy breathing of Cćsar Martin. The silence wascomplete. Suddenly, from far away, there came up the howling of a wolf. It wasnot an uncommon sound in the forests of France, or even in those ofhis own country, yet somehow Sholto listened with a growing dread. Nearer and nearer it came, till it seemed to reverberate immediatelybeneath the eaves of the dwelling of Cćsar the cripple. The flicker of the embers died slowly out. Malise lay without a sound, his head couched on his hand. Lord James began to groan and moveuneasily, like one in the grip of nightmare. Sholto listened yet moreacutely. Outside the house he could hear the soft pad-pad of wildanimals. Their pelts seemed almost to brush against the wooden wallsbehind his head with a rustle like that of corded silk. Sholto feltnervously for his sword and cleared it instinctively of the coverturein which he was wrapped. Expectation tingled in his cheeks and palms. The silence grew more and more oppressive. He could hear nothing butthat soft brushing and the galloping pads outside, as of somethingthat went round and round the house, weaving a coil of terror anddeath about the doomed inmates. Suddenly from the adjoining chamber a cry burst forth, so shrill andterrible that not only Sholto but Malise also leaped to his feet. "Mercy--mercy! Have mercy, La Meffraye!" it wailed. Sholto rushed across the floor, striding the body of James Douglas inhis haste. He dashed the door of the inner chamber open and was justin time to see something dark and lithe dart through the window anddisappear into the indigo gloom without. From the bed there came aseries of gasping moans, as from a man at the point of death. "For God's sake bring a light!" cried Sholto, "there is black murderdone here. " His father ran to the hearth, and, seizing a birchen brand, the end ofwhich was still red, he blew upon it with care and success so that itburst into a white brilliant flame that lighted all the house. Thenhe, too, entered the room where Sholto, with his sword ready in hishand, was standing over the gasping, dying thing on the bed. When Malise thrust forward his torch, lo! there, extended on the couchto which they had carried him two hours before, lay the yet twitchingbody of Cćsar the cripple with his throat well nigh bitten away. But La Meffraye was nowhere to be seen. CHAPTER XLIX THE BATTLE WITH THE WERE-WOLVES "Let us get out of this hellish place, " cried James Douglas so soon ashe had seen with his eyes that which lay within the bedchamber of thewitch woman, and made certain that it was all over with Cćsar Martin. So the three men issued out into the gloom of the night, and madetheir way to the stable wherein they had disposed their horses socarefully the night before. The door lay on the ground smashed and broken. It had been driven tokindling wood from within. Its inner surface was dinted and riven bythe iron shoes of the frightened steeds, but the horses themselveswere nowhere to be found. They had broken their halters and vanished. The three Scots were left in the heart of the enemy's country withoutmeans of escape save upon their own feet. But the horror which lay behind them in the house of La Meffraye drovethem on. Almost without knowing whither they went, they turned their facestowards the west, in the direction in which lay Machecoul, the castleof the dread Lord of all the Pays de Retz. Malise, as was his custom, walked in front, Sholto and the Lord James Douglas a step behind. A chill wind from the sea blew through the forest. The pines bentsoughing towards the adventurers. The night grew denser and blackerabout them, as with the wan waters of the marismas on one side and thesombre arches of the forest on the other, they advanced sword in hand, praying that that which should happen might happen quickly. But as they went the woods about them grew clamorous with horridnoises. All the evil beasts of the world seemed abroad that night inthe forests of Machecoul. Presently they issued forth into a more openspace. The greyish dark of the turf beneath their feet spread furtheroff. The black blank wall of the pines retreated and they foundthemselves suddenly with the stars twinkling infinitely chill andremote above them. They were now, however, no more alone, for round them circled andechoed the crying of many packs of wolves. In the forest of Machecoulthe guardian demons of its lord had been let loose, and throughout allits borders poor peasant folk shivered in their beds, or crouchedbehind the weak defences of their twice barred doors. For they knewthat the full pack never hunted in the Pays de Retz without bringingdeath to some wanderer found defenceless within the borders of thatregion of dread. "Let us stop here, " said Sholto; "if these howling demons attack us, we are at least in somewhat better case to meet them and fight it outtill the morning than in the dense darkness of the woods. " In the centre of the open glade in which they found themselves, theystumbled against the trunk of a huge pine which had been blasted bylightning. It still stood erect with its withered branches stretchingbare and angular away from the sea. About this the three Scots postedthemselves, their backs to the corrugations of the rotting stump, andtheir swords ready in their hands to deal out death to whatever shouldattack them. Well might Malise declare the powers of evil were abroad that night. At times the three men seemed wholly ringed with devilish cries. Yellsand howls as of triumphant fiends were borne to their ears upon thewestern wind. The noises approached nearer, and presently out of thedark of the woods shadowy forms glided, and again Sholto heard thesoft pad-pad of many feet. Gleaming eyes glared upon them as thewolves trotted out and sat down in a wide circle to wait for the fullmuster of the pack before rushing their prey. Sholto knew well how those in the service of Satan were able to changethemselves into the semblance of wolves, and he never doubted for amoment that he and his friends were face to face with the directmanifestations of the nether pit. Nevertheless Sholto MacKim was bynature of a stout heart, and he resolved that if he had to die, itwould be as well to die as became a captain of the Douglas guard. The blue leme of summer lightning momentarily lit up the western sky. The men could see the great gaunt pack wolves sitting upon theirhaunches or moving restlessly to and fro across each other, while fromthe denser woods behind rose the howling of fresh levies, hastening tothe assistance of the first. Sholto noted in especial one giganticshe-wolf, which appeared at every point of the circle and seemed tomuster and encourage the pack to the attack. [Illustration: ALL THE WILD BEASTS APPEARED TO BE OBEYING THE SUMMONSOF THE WITCH WOMAN. ] The wild-fire flickered behind the jet black silhouettes of the densetrees so that their tops stood out against the pale sky as if carvedin ebony. Then the night shut down darker than before. As thesoundless lightning wavered and brightened, the shadows of the wolvesappeared simultaneously to start forward and then retreat, while thenoise of their howling carried with it some diabolic suggestion ofdiscordant human voices. "_La Meffraye! La Meffraye! Meffraye!_" So to the excited minds of the three Scots the wolf legions seemed tobe crying with one voice as they came nearer. All the wild beasts ofthe wood appeared to be obeying the summons of the witch woman. The strain of the situation first told upon the Lord James Douglas. "Great Saints!" he cried, "let us attack them and die sword in hand. Icannot endure much more of this. " "Stand still where you are. It is our only chance, " commanded Sholto, as abruptly as if James Douglas had been a doubtful soldier of hiscompany. "It were better to find a tree that we could climb, " growled Malisewith a practical suggestiveness, which, however, came too late. Forthey dared not move out of the open space, and the great trunk of theblasted pine rose behind them bare of branches almost to the top. "Your daggers in your left hands, they are upon us!" cried Sholto, who, standing with his face to the west, had a lower horizon and morelight than the others. The three men had cast their palmers' cloaksfrom their shoulders and now stood leaning a little forward, breathing hard as they waited the assault of foes whom they believedto be frankly diabolic and instinct with all the powers of hell. Thisrequired greater courage than storming many fortifications. Almost as he spoke Sholto became aware that a fierce rush of shaggybeasts was crossing the scanty grass towards him. He saw a vision ofred mouths, gleaming teeth, and hairy breasts, into the leaping chaosof which he plunged and replunged his sword till his arm ached. Mostlythe stricken died snapping and tearing at each other; but ever andanon one stronger than the rest would overleap the barrier of dead anddying wolves that grew up in front of the three men, and Sholto wouldfeel the teeth click clean and hard upon the mail of his arm or thighbefore he could stoop to despatch the brute with the dirk which hegrasped in his left hand. The rush upon Sholto's side fortunately did not last long, but whileit continued the battle was strange and silent and grim--this notablefight of man and beast. As the youth at last cleared his front of ahairy monster that had sprung at his throat, he found himselfsufficiently free to look round the trunk of the blasted pine that hemight see how it fared with his companions. At first he could see nothing clearly, for the same strange and weirdconditions continued to permeate the earth and air. For a moment all would be dark and then flash on continuous flashwould follow, the wild-fire running about the tree-tops and glintingup through the recesses of the woods as if the heavens themselves wereinstinct with diabolic light. As he looked, Sholto saw his father, a gigantic figure standing blackand militant against the brightest of it. His hand grasped a huge wolfby the heels, and he swung the beast about his head as easily as hewas wont to handle the forehammer at home. With his living weaponMalise had swept a space about him clear, and the beasts seemed tohave fallen back in terror before such a strange enemy. But what of the Lord James? Overleaping the pile of dead and dyingwolves which his sword and dagger had made, and from which savageheads still bit and snarled up at him as he went, Sholto ran round toseek the young Lord of Avondale. At the first flash after leaving thetree trunk he was nowhere to be seen, but a second revealed him lyingon the ground, with four shaggy beasts bending over him and tearingfiercely at his gorget and breast-armour. With a loud shout Sholto wasamong them. He passed his sword through and through the largest, andin its fall the wounded monster turned and bit savagely at the foreleg of a companion. The bone cracked as a rotten branch snapsunderfoot, and in another moment the two animals were rolling over andover, locked together in the death grapple. Once, twice, and thrice Sholto struck right and left. The rest of thebeasts, seemingly astonished by the sudden flank attack, turned andfled. Then, pushing off a huge wounded brute which lay gasping out itslife in red jets upon the breast of the fallen man, he dragged JamesDouglas back to the tree which had been their fortress and propped himup against the trunk. At the same moment a long wailing cry from the forest called thewolves off. They retreated suddenly, disappearing apparently by magicinto the depths of the forest, leaving their dead in quivering heapsall about the little bare glade where the unequal fight had beenfought. Malise the Brawny flung down the wolf whose head had served him withsuch deadly effect as a weapon against his brethren. The beast hadlong been dead, with a skull smashed in and a neck dislocated by thesweeping blows it had dealt its kin. "Sholto! My Lord James!" cried Malise, coming up to them hastily. "Howfares it with you?" "We are both here, " answered his son. "Come and help me with the LordJames. He has fallen faint with the stress of his armour. " After the disappearance of the wolves the unearthly brilliance of thewild-fire gradually diminished, and now it flickered paler and lessfrequently. But another hail from Sholto revealed to Malise the whereabouts of hiscompanions, and presently he also was on his knees beside the youngLord of Avondale. Sholto gave him into the strong arms of Malise and stood erect tolisten for any renewal of the attack. The wise smith, whose skill as aleech was proverbial, carefully felt James Douglas all over in thedarkness, and took advantage of every flicker of summer lightning toexamine him as well as his armour would permit. "Help me to loosen his gorget and ease him of his body mail, " saidMalise, at last. "He has gotten a bite or two, but nothing thatappears serious. I think he has but fainted from pressure. " Sholto bent down and with his dagger cut string by string the stoutleathern twists which secured the knight's mail. And as he did so hisfather widened it out with his powerful fingers to ease the weightupon the young man's chest. Presently, with a long sigh, James Douglas opened his eyes. "Where are the wolves?" he said, with a grimace of disgust. Sholtotold him how all that were left alive had, for the present at least, disappeared. "Ugh, the filthy brutes!" said Lord James. "I fought till the stenchof their hot breaths seemed to stifle me. I felt my head run roundlike a dog in a fit, and down I went. What happened after that?" "This, " said Malise, sententiously, pointing to the heaps of deadwolves which were becoming more apparent as the night ebbed and theblue flame rose and fell like a fluttering pulse along the horizon. "Then to one or the other of you I owe my life, " said Lord JamesDouglas, reaching a hand to both. "Sholto dragged you from under half a dozen of the devils, " saidMalise. "My father it was who brought you to, " said Sholto. "I thank you both with all my heart--for this as for all the rest. Iknow not, indeed, where to begin, " said James Douglas, gratefully. "Give me your hands. I can stand upright now. " So saying, and being assisted by Malise, he rose to his feet. "Will they come again?" he asked, as with an intense disgust hesurveyed the battle-field in the intermittent light from over themarshes. "Listen, " said Malise. The low howling of the wolves had retreated farther, but seemed toretain more and more of its strange human character. "_La Meffraye! La Meff--raye!_" they seemed to wail, with a curiousswelling upon the last syllable. "I hear only the yelling of the infernal brutes, " said the Lord James;"they seem to be calling on their patron saint--the woman whom we sawin the house of the poor cripple. I am sure I saw her going to and froamong the devils and encouraging them to the assault. " "'Tis black work at the best, " answered Malise; "these are no commonwolves who would dare to attack armed men--demons of the nethermostpit rather, driven on by their hellish hunt-mistress. There will bemany dead warlocks to-morrow throughout the lands of France. " "Stand to your arms, " cried Sholto, from the other side of the tree. And indeed the howling seemed suddenly to grow nearer and louder. Thenoise circled about them, and they could again perceive dusky formswhich glided to and fro in the faint light among the arches of theforest. In the midst of the turmoil Malise took off his bonnet and stoodreverently at prayer. "Aid us, Thy true men, " he cried in a loud and solemn voice, "againstall the powers of evil. In the name of God--Amen!" The howling stopped and there fell a silence. Lord James would havespoken. "Hush!" said Malise, yet more solemnly. And far off, like an echo from another world, thin and sweet andsilver clear, a cock crew. The blue leaping flame of the wild-fire abruptly ceased. The dawnarose red and broad in the east. The piles of dead beasts shone outblack on the grey plain of the forest glade, and on the topmost boughof a pine tree a thrush began to sing. CHAPTER L THE ALTAR OF IRON And now what of Master Laurence, lately clerk in the Abbey of DulceCor, presently in service with the great Lord of Retz, Messire Gillesde Laval, Marshal and Chamberlain of the King of France? Laurence had been a month at Machecoul and had not yet worn out hiswelcome. He was sunning himself with certain young clerks andchoristers of the marshal's privy chapel of the Holy Innocents. Suddenly Clerk Henriet appeared under the arches at the upper end ofthe pretty cloisters, in the aisles of which the youths were seated. Henriet regarded them silently for a moment, looking with specialapproval upon the blonde curls and pink cheeks of the young Scottishlad. Machecoul was a vast feudal castle with one great central square towerand many smaller ones about it. The circuit of its walls enclosedgardens and pleasaunces, and included within its limits the new andbeautiful chapel which has been recently finished by that goodCatholic and ardent religionary, the Marshal de Retz. As yet, Laurence had been able to learn nothing of the maids, not evenwhether they were alive or dead, whether at Machecoul or elsewhere. Atthe first mention of maidens being brought from Scotland to thecastle, or seen about its courts, a dead silence fell upon thecompany of priests and singers in the marshal's chapel. It was thesame when Laurence spoke of the business privately to any of his newacquaintances. No matter how briskly the conversation had been prospering hitherto, if, at Holy Mass or jovial supper board, Laurence so much as breatheda question concerning the subject next his heart, an instant blightpassed over the gaiety of his companions. Fear momently wiped everyother expression from their faces, and they answered with lameevasion, or more often not at all. The shadow of the Lord of Machecoul lay heavy upon them. Clerk Henriet stood awhile watching the lads and listening to theirtalk behind the carved lattice of Caen stone, with its lace-liketracery of buds and flowers, through which the natural roses pushedtheir way, and over which the clematis tangled its twining stems. "Stand up and prove on my body that I am a rank Irelander, " Laurencewas saying defiantly to the world at large, with his fists up and hishead thrown back. "Saint Christopher, but I will take the lot of youwith one hand tied behind me. Stand up and I will teach you how tosing 'Miserable sinners are we all!' to a new and unkenned tune. " "'Tis easy for you to boast, Irelander, " retorted Blaise Renouf, theson of the lay choir-master, who had been brought specially from Rometo teach the choir-boys of the marshal's chapel the latest fashions inholy song. "We will either fight you with swords or not at all. We donot fight with our bare knuckles, being civilised. And that indeedproves that you are no true lover of the French, but an English dog ofunknightly birth. " This retort still further irritated the hot-headed son of Malise. "I will fight you or any galley slave of a French frog with the sword, or spit you upon the rapier. I will cleave you with the axe, transfixyou with the arrow, or blow you to the pit with the devil's sulphur. Iwill fight any of you or all of you with any weapons from abattering-ram to a toothpick--and God assist the better man. And thereyou have Laurence O'Halloran, at your service!" "You are a loud-crowing young cock for a newcomer, " said Henriet, theconfidential clerk of the marshal, suddenly appearing in the doorway;"you are desired to follow me to my lord's chamber immediately. Therewe will see if you will flap your wings so boldly. " Laurence could not help noticing the blank alarm which thisannouncement caused among the youth with whom he had been playing theancient game of brag. It was Blaise Renouf who first recovered. He looked across the littlerose-grown space of the cloister to see that Henriet had turned hisback, and then came quickly up to Laurence MacKim. "Listen to me, " he said; "you are a game lad enough, but you do notknow where you are going, nor yet what may happen to you there. Wewill fight you if you come back safe, but meantime you are one ofourselves, and we of the choir have sworn to stand by one another. Canyou keep a pea in your mouth without swallowing it?" "Why, of course I can, " said Laurence, wondering what was to comenext. "I can keep a dozen and shoot them through a bore of alder treeat a penny without missing once, which I wot is more than anyFrenchman ever--" "Well, then, " whispered the lad Renouf, breaking in on his boast witha white countenance, "hearken well to me. When you enter the chamberof the marshal, put this in your mouth. And if nothing happens keep itthere, but be careful neither to swallow it nor yet to bite upon it. But if it should chance that either Henriet or Poitou or Gilles deSillé seize hold of your arms, bite hard upon the pellet till you feela bitter taste and then swallow. That is all. You are indeed a cockwhose comb wants cutting, and if all be well, we will incise it foryour soul's good. But in the meanwhile you are of our company andfellowship. So for God's sake and your own do as you are bid. Fare youwell. " As he followed Clerk Henriet, Laurence looked at the round pellet inhis hand. It was white, soft like ripe fruit, of an elasticconsistency, and of the largeness of a pea. As Laurence ascended the stairs, he heard the practice of the choirbeginning in the chapel. Precentor Renouf, the father of Blaise, hadsummoned the youths from the cloisters with a long mellow whistle uponhis Italian pitch-pipe, running up and down the scale and ending witha flourished "A-a-men. " The open windows and the pierced stone railing of the great staircaseof Machecoul brought up the sound of that sweet singing from thechapel to the ear of the adventurous Scot as through a funnel. Theywere beginning the practice for the Christmas services, though thetime was not yet near. "_Unto God be the glory In the Highest; Peace be on the earth, On the earth, Unto men who have good-will. _" So they chanted in their white robes in the Chapel of the HolyInnocents in the Castle of Machecoul near by the Atlantic shore. The chamber of Gilles de Retz testified to the extraordinaryadvancement of that great man in knowledge which has been claimed aspeculiar to much later centuries. The window casements were soarranged that in a moment the place could either be made as dark asmidnight or flooded with bright light. The walls were always freshlywhitewashed, and the lime was constantly renewed. The stone floor wasstained a deep brick red, and that, too, would often be appliedfreshly during the night. At a time when the very word "sanitation"was unknown, Gilles had properly constructed conduits leading from anadjoining apartment to the castle ditch. The chimney was wide as apeasant's whole house, and the vast fireplace could hold on its irondogs an entire waggon-load of faggots. Indeed, that amount wasregularly consumed every day when the marshal deigned to abide atMachecoul for his health and in pursuance of his wonderful studiesinto the deep things of the universe. "Bide here a moment, " said Clerk Henriet, bending his body in awrithing contortion to listen to what might be going on inside thechamber; "I dare not take you in till I see whether my lord be in goodcase to receive you. " So at the stair-head, by a window lattice which looked towards thechapel, Laurence stood and waited. At first he kept quite still andlistened with pleasure to the distant singing of the boys. He couldeven hear Precentor Renouf occasionally stop and rebuke them forinattention or singing out of tune. "_My soul is like a watered garden, And I shall not sorrow any more at all!_" So he hummed as he listened, and beat the time on the ledge with hisfingers. He felt singularly content. Now he was on the eve ofpenetrating the mystery. At last he would discover where the missingmaidens were concealed. But soon he began to look about him, growing, like the boy he was, quickly weary of inaction. His eye fell upon a strange door withcurious marks burnt upon its panels apparently by hot irons. Therewere circles complete and circles that stopped half-way, together withletters of some unknown language arranged mostly in triangles. This door fixed the lad's attention with a certain curiousfascination. He longed to touch it and see whether it opened, but forthe moment he was too much afraid of his guide's return to summon himinto the presence of the marshal. He listened intently. Surely he heard a low sound, like the wind in adistant keyhole--or, as it might be (and it seemed more like it), themoaning of a child in pain, it knows not why. The heart of the youth gave a sudden leap. It came to him that he hadhit upon the hiding-place of Margaret Douglas, the heiress of thegreat province of Galloway. His fortune was made. With a trembling hand he moved a step towards the door of white woodwith the curious burned marks upon it. He stood a moment listening, half for the returning footsteps of Clerk Henriet, and half to thelow, persistent whimper behind the panels. Suddenly he felt his rightfoot wet, for, as was the fashion, he wore only a velvet shoe pointedat the toe. He looked down, and lo! from under the door trickled athin stream of red. Laurence drew his foot away, with a quick catching sob of the breath. But his hand was already on the door, and at a touch it appeared toopen almost of its own accord. He found himself looking from the duskof the outer whitewashed passage into a high, vaulted chapel, whereinmany dim lights glimmered. At the end there was a great altar of ironstanding square and solemn upon the platform on which it was set up, and behind it, cut indistinctly against a greenish glow of light, andimagined rather than clearly defined, the vast statue of a man with acuriously high shaped head. Laurence could not distinguish anyfeatures, so deep was the gloom, but the whole figure seemed to bebending slightly forward, as if gloating upon that which was laid uponthe altar. But what struck Laurence with a sense of awe and terror wasthe fact that as the greenish light behind waxed and waned, he couldsee shadowy horns which projected from either side of the forehead, and lower, short ears, pricked and shaggy like those of a he-goat. Nearer the door, where he stood in the densest gloom, something movedto and fro, and as his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness Laurencecould see that it was the bent figure of a woman. He could notdistinguish her face, but it was certainly a woman of great age andbodily weakness, whose tangled hair hung down her back, and who haltedcuriously upon one foot as she walked. She was bending over a lowcouch, whereon lay a little shrouded figure, from which proceeded thelow whimpering sound which he had heard from without. But even at thatmoment, as he waited trembling at the door, the moaning ceased, andthere ensued a long silence, in which Laurence could clearlydistinguish the beating of his own heart. It sounded loud in his earsas a drum that beats the alarm in the streets of a city. The figure of the woman bent low to the couch, and, after a pause, with a satisfied air she threw a white cloth over the shrouded formwhich lay upon it. Then, without looking towards the door whereLaurence stood, she went to the great iron altar at the upper end ofthe weird chapel and threw something on the red embers which glowedupon it. "_Barran--most mighty Barran-Sathanas, accept this offering, andreveal thyself to my master!_" she said in a voice like a chant. A greenish smoke of stifling odour rose and filled all the place, andthrough it the huge horned figure above the altar seemed to turn itshead and look at the boy. Laurence could scarcely repress a cry of terror. He set his hand tothe door, and lo! as it had opened, so it appeared to shut of itself. He sank almost fainting against the cold iron bars of the window whichlooked out upon the courtyard below. The wind blew in upon him sweetand cool, and with it there came again the sound of the singing of thechoir. They were practising the song of the Holy Innocents, which, bycommand of the marshal himself, Precentor Renouf had set to excellentand accordant music of his own invention. "_A voice was heard in Ramah, In Ramah, Lamentations and bitter weeping, Rachel weeping for her children, Refused to be comforted: For her children, Because they were not. _" Obviously there was some mistake or lack of attention on the part ofthe choir, for the last line had to be repeated three times. "_Because they were not. _" CHAPTER LI THE MARSHAL'S CHAMBER There came a low voice in Laurence MacKim's ear, chill and sinister:"You do well to look out upon the fair world. None knoweth when we mayhave to leave it. Yonder is a star. Look well at it. They say God madeit. Perhaps He takes more interest in it than in the concerns of thisother world He hath made. " The son of Malise MacKim gripped himself, as it were, with both hands, and turned a face pale as marble to look into the grim countenancewhich hid the soul of the Lord of Machecoul. Gilles de Retz appeared to peruse each feature of the boy's person asif he read in a book. Yet even as Laurence gave back glance forglance, and with the memory of what he had seen yet fresh upon him, astrange courage began to glow in the heart of the young Scot. Therecame a kind of contempt, too, into his breast, as though he had it inhim to be a man in despite of the devil and all his works. The marshal continued his scrutiny, and Laurence returned his gazewith interest. "Well, boy, " said the marshal, smiling as if not ill pleased at hisboldness, "what do you think of me?" "I think, sir, " said Laurence, simply, "that you have grown oldersince I saw you in the lists at Thrieve. " It seemed to Laurence that the words were given him. And all the timehe was saying to himself: "Now I have done it. For this he will surelyput me to death. He cannot help himself. Why did I not stick to itthat I was an Irelander?" But, somehow, the answer seemed like an arrow from a bow shot at aventure, entering in between the joints of the marshal's armour. "Do you think so?" he said, with some startled anxiety, yet withoutsurprise; "older than at Thrieve? I do not believe it. It isimpossible. Why, I grow younger and younger every day. It has beenpromised me that I should. " And setting his elbow on the sill of the window, Gilles de Retz lookedthoughtfully out upon the cool dusk of the rose garden. Then all atonce it came to him what was implied in that unlucky speech ofLaurence's. The grim intensity returned to his eyes as he erectedhimself and bent his brows, white with premature age, upon the boy, who confronted him with the fearlessness born of youth and ignorance. "Ah, " he said, "this is interesting; you have changed your nation. Youwere an Irishman to De Sillé in Paris, to the clerk Henriet, and tothe choir at Machecoul. Yet to me you admit in the very first wordsyou speak that you are a Scot and saw me at the Castle of Thrieve. " Even yet the old Laurence might have turned the corner. He had, as weknow, graduated as a liar ready and expert. He had daily practised hisart upon the Abbot. He had even, though more rarely, succeeded withhis father. But now in the day of his necessity the power and wit haddeparted from him. To the lord of the Castle of Machecoul Laurence simply could not lie. Ringed as he was by evil, his spirit became strong for good, and hetestified like one in the place of final judgment, when the earthlylendings of word and phrase and covering excuse must all be cast asideand the soul stand forth naked and nakedly answer that which isrequired. "I am a Scot, " said Laurence, briefly, and without explanation. "Come with me into my chamber, " said the marshal, and turned toprecede him thither. And without word of complaint or backward glance, the lad followed thegreat lord to the chamber, into which so many had gone before him ofthe young and beautiful of the earth, and whence so few had come outalive. As he passed the threshold, Laurence put into his mouth the elasticpellet which had been given him by Blaise Renouf, the choir-master'sson. The marshal threw himself upon a chair, reclining with a wearied airupon the hands which were clasped behind his head. In the action ofthrowing himself back one could see that Gilles de Retz was a youngand not an old man, though ordinarily his vitality had been worn tothe quick, and both in appearance and movement he was alreadyprematurely aged. "What is your name?" The question came with military directness from the lips of themarshal of France. "Laurence MacKim, " said the lad, with equal directness. "For what purpose did you come to the Castle of Machecoul?" "I came, " said Laurence, coolly, "to take service with you, my lord. And because I was tired of monk rule, and getting only the husks oflife, tired too of sitting dumb and watching others eat the kernel. " "Ha!" cried Gilles de Retz, "I am with you there. There is, after all, some harmony between our immortal parts. For my part, I would have allof life, --husk, kernel, stalk, --aye, and the root that grows amid thedung. " He paused a moment, looking at Laurence with the air of a connoisseur. "Come hither, lad, " he said, with a soft and friendly accent; "sit onthis seat with your back to the window. Turn your head so that thelamp shines aright upon your face. You are not so handsome as wasreported, but that there is something wondrously taking about yourcountenance, I do admit. There--sit so, and fear nothing. " Laurence sat down with the bad grace of a manly youth who is admiredfor what he privately despises, and wishes himself well quit of. But, notwithstanding this, there was something so insinuating and pleasantabout the marshal's manner that the lad almost thought he must havedreamed the incident of the burned door and the sacrifice upon theiron altar. "You came hither to search for Margaret of Douglas, " said the marshal, suddenly bending forward as if to take him by surprise. Laurence, wholly taken aback, answered neither yea nor nay, but heldhis peace. Then Gilles de Retz nodded sagely, with a quiet satisfaction in hisown prevision, which to one less bold and reckless than the youngclerk of Dulce Cor would have proved disconcerting. Then he propoundedhis next question: "How many came hither with you?" "One, " said Laurence, promptly; "I came here alone with your servantDe Sillé. " The marshal smiled. "Good--we will try some other method with you, " he said; "but beadvised and speak. None hath ever hidden aught from Gilles de Retz. " "Then, my lord, " said Laurence, "there is the less reason for you toput me to the question. " "I can expound dark speeches, " said the marshal, "and I also know myway through the subtleties of lying tongues. Hope not to lie to me. How many were they that came to France with you?" "I will not tell you, " said the son of Malise. The marshal smiled again and nodded his head repeatedly with a certaingustful appreciation. "You would make a good soldier. It is a pity that I have gone out ofthe business. Yet I have only (as it were) descended from wholesale toparticular, from the gross to the detail. " Laurence, who felt that the true policy was to be sparing of hiswords, made no answer. "You say that you are a clerk. Can you read Latin?" "Yes, " said Laurence, "and write it too. " "Read this, then, " said the marshal, and handed him a book. Laurence had been well instructed in the humanities by Father Colin ofSaint Michael's Kirk by the side of Dee water, and he read the words, which record the cruelties of the Emperor Caligula with exactness anddecorum. "You read not ill, " said his auditor; "you have been well taught, though you have a vile foreign accent and know not the shades ofmeaning that lie in the allusions. "You say that you came to Machecoul with desire to serve me, " themarshal continued after a pause for thought. "In what manner did youthink you could serve, and why went you not into the house of someother lord?" "As to service, " said Laurence, "I came because I was invited by yourhenchman de Sillé. And as to what I can do, I profess that I can sing, having been well taught by a master, the best in my country. I canplay upon the viol and eke upon the organ. I am fairly good at fence, and excellent as any at singlestick. I can faithfully carry a messageand loyally serve those who trust me. I would have some money tospend, which I have never had. I wish to live a life worth living, wherein is pleasure and pain, the lack of sameness, and the joy ofthings new. And if that may not be--why, I am ready to die, that I maymake proof whether there be anything better beyond. " "A most philosophic creed, " cried the marshal. "Well, there is onething in which I can prove, if indeed you lie not. Sing!" Then Laurence stood up and sang, even as the choir had done, thelamentation of Rachel according to the setting of the Roman precentor. "_A voice was heard in Ramah!_" And as he sang, the Lord of Retz took up the strain, and, with trueaccord and feeling, accompanied him to the end. [Illustration: THE PRISONERS OF THE WHITE TOWER. ] "Brava!" cried Gilles de Retz when Laurence had finished; "that istruly well sung indeed! You shall sing it alone in my chapel nextfeast day of the Holy Innocents. " He paused as if to consider his words. "And now for this time go. But remember that this Castle of Machecoulis straiter than any prison cell, and better guarded than a fortress. It is surrounded with constant watchers, secret, invisible, implacable. Whoso tries to escape, dies. You are a bold lad, and, as Ithink, fear not much death for yourself. But come hither, and I willshow you something which will chain you here. " With a kind of solicitous familiarity the Marshal de Retz took the ladby the arm and drew him to another window on the further side of thekeep. "Look forth and tell me what you see, " he said. Laurence set his head out of the window. He looked upon an intricatemass of building, composing the western wing of the castle, and it wassome moments before he could distinguish what the Sieur de Retz wishedhim to see. Then, as his eyes took in the details, he saw on the flatroof of a square tower beneath him two maidens seated, and when helooked closer--lo! they were Margaret Douglas and, beside her, hisbrother's sweetheart Maud Lindesay. These two were sitting hand inhand, as was their wont, and the head of the child was bowed almost toher friend's knee. Maud's arm was about Margaret's neck, and herfingers caressed the childish tangle of hair. Presently the elderlifted the younger upon her knee and hushed her like a mother whoputs a tired child to sleep. Immediately behind this group, in the shadow of a buttress, Laurencesaw a tall man, masked, clad in a black suit, and with a drawn swordin his hand. The marshal looked out over the lad's shoulder. "The day you are missed from the Castle of Machecoul, or the day thatthe rest of your company arrives here, that sword shall fall, but in amore terrible fashion than I can tell you! That sentinel can neitherhear nor speak, but he has his orders and will obey them. I bid yougood night. Go to your singing in the choir. It is time for thechanting of vespers in the chapel of the Holy Innocents. " CHAPTER LII THE JESTING OF LA MEFFRAYE It was in the White Tower of Machecoul that the Scottish maidens wereheld at the mercy of the Lord of Retz. At their first arrival in thecountry they had been taken to the quiet Chateau of Pouzauges, thebirthplace of Poitou, the marshal's most cruel and remorselessconfidant. Here, as the marshal had very truly informed the LadySybilla, they had been under the care of--or, rather, fellow-prisonerswith--the neglected wife of Gilles de Retz, and at Pouzauges they hadspent some days of comparative peace and security in the society ofher daughter. But at the first breath of the coming of the three strangers to thedistrict they had been seized and securely conveyed to Machecoulitself--there to be interned behind the vast walls and triple bastionsof that fortress prison. "I wonder, Maudie, " said Margaret Douglas, as they sat on the flatroof of the White Tower of Machecoul and looked over the battlementsupon the green pine glades and wide seaward Landes, "I wonder whetherwe shall ever again see the water of Dee and our mother--and SholtoMacKim. " It is to be feared that the last part of the problem exceeded ininterest all others in the eyes of Maud Lindesay. "It seems as if we never could again behold any one we loved or wishedto see--here in this horrible place, " sighed Maud Lindesay. "If ever Iget back to the dear land and see Solway side, I will be a differentgirl. " "But, Maud, " said the little maid, reproachfully, "you were alwaysgood and kind. It is not well done of you to speak against yourself inthat fashion. " Maud Lindesay shook her pretty head mournfully. "Ah, Margaret, you will know some day, " she said. "I have beenwicked, --not in things one has to confess to Father Gawain, but, --well, in making people like me, and give me things, and come tosee me, and then afterwards flouting them for it and sending themaway. " It was not a lucid description, but it sufficed. "Ah, but, " said Margaret Douglas, "I think not these things to bewicked. I hope that some day I shall do just the same, though, ofcourse, I shall not be as beautiful as you, Maudie; no, never! I askedSholto MacKim if I would, and he said, 'Of course not!' in a deepvoice. It was not pretty of him, was it, Maud?" "I think it was very prettily said of him, " answered Maud Lindesay, with the first flicker of a smile on her face. Her conscience wasquite at ease about Sholto. He was different. Whatever pain she hadcaused him, she meant to make up to him with usury thereto. The othersshe had exercised no more for her own amusement than for their ownsouls' good. "My brother William must indeed be very angry with us, that he hathnever sent to find us and bring us home, " went on the little girl. "Itis three months since we met that horrible old woman in the woodsabove Thrieve Island, and believed her when she told us that the Earlhad instant need of us--and that Sholto MacKim was with him. " "None saw us taken away. Margaret, " said the elder, "and perhaps, whoknows, they may never have found any of the pieces of flower garlandsI threw down before they put us in the boats from the beach ofCassencary. " But the eyes of the little Maid of Galloway were now fixed uponsomething in the green courtyard below. "Maud, Maud, come hither quickly!" she whispered; "if yonder be notLaurence MacKim talking to the singing lads and dressed likethem--why, then, I do not know Laurie MacKim!" Maud came quickly now. Her face and neck blushed suddenly crimson withthe springing of hope in her heart. She looked down, and there, far below them indeed, but yet distinctenough, they saw Laurence daring Blaise Renouf to single combat andvaunting his Irish prowess, as we have already seen him do. MaudLindesay caught her companion's hand as she looked. "They have found us, " she whispered; "at least, they are seeking forus. If Laurence is here, I warrant Sholto cannot be very far away. Oh, Margaret, am I looking very ill? Will he think I am as--(she pausedfor a word)--as comely as he thought me before in Scotland? Or have Igrown old and ugly with being shut up so long?" But the Maid of Galloway heard her not. She was pondering on themeaning of Laurence's presence in the Castle of Machecoul. "Perhaps William hath sent Laurence to spy us out, and is even nowcoming from his French duchy with an army. He is a far greater manthan the marshal, and will make him give us up as soon as he finds outwhere we are. Shall I call down to Laurie to let him know that we arehere?" Maud put her hand hastily over her companion's mouth. "Hush!" she said, "we must not appear to know him, or they will surelykill him--and perhaps the others, too. If Laurence is here, I wot wellthat help is not far away. Let us be patient and abide. Come back fromthe wall and sit by me as if nothing, had happened. " But all the same she kept her own place in a spot where she couldcommand the pleasaunce below, and looked longingly yet fearfully tosee Sholto follow his brother across the green sward. * * * * * "Sweet and fair is the air of the evening, " purred behind them a lowvoice--that of the woman who was called La Meffraye. "It brings thecolour to the cheeks of the young. But I am old and wise, and I wouldadvise that two maids so fair should not look down on the sports ofthe youths, lest they hear and see more than is fitting for suchinnocent eyes. " The girls turned away without looking at their custodian, who stoodleaning upon her little hand crutch and smiling upon them her terriblesoft smile. "Ah, " she said, "proud, are you? 'Tis an ill place to bring pride to, this Castle of Machecoul. You will not deign to speak a word to a poorold woman now. But the day is not far distant when I shall have mypretty spitfire clinging about these old trembling knees, andbeseeching me whom you despise, as a woman either to save you or killyou--you will not care which. _As a woman!_ Ha! ha! How long is itsince La Meffraye was a woman? Was she ever rocked in a cradle? Didshe play about any cottage door and fashion daisy chains, as I haveseen you do, my pretties, long ere you came to Machecoul or even heardof the Sieur de Retz? Hath La Meffraye ever lain in any man'sbosom--save as the tigress crouches upon her prey?" She paused and smiled still more bitterly and malevolently than beforeupon the two maidens. "Did you chance to be awake yester-even?" she went on. "Aye, I knowwell that you were awake. La Meffraye saw right carefully to that. Andyou heard the crying that rang out of yonder high window, from whichthe light streamed all through the night. Wait, wait, my pretties, till it is your turn to be sent for up thither, when the shining knifeis sharpened and the red fire kindled. You will not despise LaMeffraye when that day comes. You will grovel and weep, and then willLa Meffraye spurn you with her foot, till the noise of your crying beborne out over the forest, and for very gladness the wolves howl inthe darkness. " The little Maid of Galloway was moved to answer, and her lipsquivered. But Maud Lindesay sat pale and motionless, looking towardsthe north, from which she hoped for help to come. "Our brother, the Earl of Douglas, will bring an army from his dukedomof Touraine, and sweep you and your castle from the face of the earth, if your master dares to lay so much as a finger upon us. " La Meffraye laughed a low, cackling laugh, and in the act showed thefour long eye-teeth which were the sole remaining dental equipment ofher mouth. "Oh, Great Barran--" she chuckled, "listen to the pretty fool! Ourbrother will do this--our brother will do that. _Our_ brother willlick the country of Retz as clean as a dog licks a platter. Know younot, silly fool, that both your brothers are long since dead and undersod in the castle of your city of Edinburgh. I tell you my master sethis little finger upon them and crushed them like flies on a summerchamber wall!" Maud Lindesay rose to her feet as La Meffraye spoke these words. "It is not true, " she cried; "you lie to us as you have done from thefirst. The Earl of Douglas is not dead!" It was now little Margaret who showed the spirit of her race, and putout her hand to clasp that of her elder comrade. "Do not let her even know that she has power to hurt us with herwords, " she whispered low to Maud Lindesay. Then she spoke aloud: "If that which you say be true and my brothers are dead--there are yetDouglases. Our cousins will deliver us. " "Your cousins have entered into your possessions, " jeered the hag; "itis indeed a likely thing that they will desire your return to Scotlandin order to rob them of that which is their own. " "We are not afraid, " said the little maid, stoutly; "there are many inthe land of the Scots who would gladly die to help us. " "Aye, that is it. They shall die--all die. Three of them diedyester-even, torn to pieces by my lord's wolves. Fine, swift, four-footed guardians of the Castle of Machecoul--La Meffraye'sfriends! And one young cock below there of the same gang hath goneeven now to my lord's chamber. He hath mounted the stairs he willnever descend. " "Well, " said the Maid of Galloway, "even so--we are not afraid. We candie, as died our friends. " "Die--die!" cried the hag, sharply, angered at the child'spersistence. "'Tis easy to talk. To snuff a candle out is to die. Poof, 'tis done! But the young and beautiful like you, my dearies, donot so die at Machecoul. No; rather as a dying candle flickersout--falls low, and rises again, so they die. As wine oozes drop bydrop from the needle-punctured wine-skin--so shall you die, weeping, beseeching, drained to the white like a dripping calf in the shambles, yet at the same time reddened and shamed with the shame deadly andunnameable. Then La Meffraye, whom now you disdain to answer with alook, will wash her hands in your life's blood and laugh as your tearsfall slowly upon the latchet of her shoon!" But a new voice broke in upon the railing of the hideous woman fiend. "_Out, foul hag! Get you to your own place!_" it said, with an accentstrong and commanding. And the affrighted and heart-sick girls turned them about to see theLady Sybilla stand fair and pale at the head of the turret stair whichopened out upon the roof of the White Tower. At this interruption the eyes of La Meffraye seemed to burn with afresher fury, and the green light in them shone as shines an emeraldstone held up to the sun. The hag cowered, however, before the outstretched index finger ofSybilla de Thouars. "Ah, fair lady, " she whimpered, "be not angry--and tell not my lord, Ibeseech you. I did but jest. " "_Hence!_" the finger was still outstretched, and, in obedience to thethreatening gesture, the hag shrank away. But as she passed throughthe portal down the steps of the turret, she flung back certain wordswith a defiant fleer. "Ah, you are young, my lady, and for the present--for the present yourpower is greater than mine. But wait! Your beauty will wither and growold. Your power will depart from you. But La Meffraye can never growolder, and when once the secret is discovered, and my lord is youngagain, La Meffraye is the one who with him shall bloom with immortalyouth, while you, proud lady, lie cold in the belly of the worm. " * * * * * "It is true--all too true, " said Sybilla de Thouars, sadly, "they aredead. The young, the noble were--and are no more. I who speak saw themdie. And that so greatly, that even in death their lives cease not. Their glory shall flow on so that the young brook shall become ariver, and the river become a sea. " Then in few words and quiet, she told them all the heavy tale. But when the maids made as though they would cleave to her for thesympathy that was in her words and because of her tears, she set thepalms of her hands against their breasts and cried, "Come not near onewhom not all the fires of purgatory can purify--one who, likeIscariot, hath contracted herself outside the mercy of God and of ourLord Christ!" But all the more they clave to her, overpassing her protestations andclasping her, so that, being deeply moved, she sat down on the stepsof a corner turret which rose from the greater, and wept there, withthe weeping wherewith women are wont to ease the heart. Then went Maud Lindesay to her and set her hand about her neck, andkissed her, saying: "Do not be sorry any more. Confess to the ministerof God. I also have sinned and been sorry. Yet after came forgivenessand the unbound heart. " Then the Lady Sybilla ceased quickly and looked up, as it had been, smiling. Yet she was not smiling as maidens are wont to smile. "Pretty innocent, " she said, "you mean well, but you know not what theword 'sin' means to such as I. Confess--absolve! Not even the Holy Oneand the Just could give me that. I tell you I have eaten of the appleof the knowledge of good and evil--yes, the very core I have eaten. Ihave the taste of innocent blood upon my lips. I have seen the axefall, the axe which I put into the headsman's hands. I am condemned, and that justly. But one of you shall live to taste sweet love, andthe crown of life, and to feel the innocent lips of children at herbreasts. And the other--but enough. Farewell. Fear not. God, who hasbeen cruel in all else, has given your lives to Sybilla de Thouars, ere in His own time He strike that guilty one with His thunderbolt. " And as she went within, the eyes of the maids followed her; but themasked man with the naked sword never so much as turned his head, gazing straight forward over the battlements of the White Tower intothe lilac mist which hung above the Atlantic. CHAPTER LIII SYBILLA'S VENGEANCE There stands a solitary rock at the base of which is a cave, on theseashore of La Vendée. Behind stretch the marshes, and the place isshut in and desolate. Birds cry there. The bittern booms in thethickets of grey willow and wet-shot alder. The herons nest upon thepine trees near by, till the stale scent of them comes down the windfrom far. Ospreys fish in the waters of the shallow lake behind, andthe scales of their prey flash in the sun of morning as they risedripping from the dive. In this place Sholto, Malise, and the Lord James Douglas werepresently abiding. It was but a tiny cell, originally formed by two portions of marlyrock fallen together in some ancient convulsion or dropped upon eachother from a floating iceberg. In some former age the cleft had been alair of wild beasts, or the couch of some hairy savage hammering flintarrowheads for the chase, and drawing with a sharp point upon polishedbone the yet hairier mammoth he hunted. But this solitary lodging inthe wilderness had been enlarged in more recent times, till now theinterior was about eight feet square and of the height of a man ofstature when he stands erect. The hearts of the three present cave-dwellers were sick and sad, andof them all the bitterest was the heart of Sholto MacKim. It seemedto his eager lover's spirit, as he climbed to the top of the sanddunes and gazed towards the massive towers of Machecoul rising abovethe green woodlands, that hitherto they had but wandered and donenothing. The sorcerer had prevented them about with his evil. They hadlost Laurence utterly, and for the rest they had not even touched theouter defences of their arch enemy. Thrice they had tried to enter the castle. The first time they hadtaken by force two waggons of fuel from certain men who went towardsMachecoul, leaving the woodmen behind in the forest, bound andhelpless. But at the first gate of the outer hall the marshal's guardhad stopped them, and demanded that they should wait till the carswere unloaded and brought back to them. So, having received the money, the Scots returned as they went to the men whom they had left in theforest. After this repulse they had gone round and round the vast walls ofMachecoul seeking a place vulnerable, but finding none. The rampartsrose as it had been to heaven, and the flanking towers were crowdednight and day with men on the watch. Round the walls for the space ofa bow-shot every way there ran a green space fair and open to theview, but in reality full of pitfalls and secret engines. From thebattlements began the arrow hail, so soon as any attempted to approachthe castle along any other way than the thrice-defended road to themain gate. The wolves howled in the forests by night, and more than once came sonear that one of the three men had to take it in turns to keep watchin the cave's mouth. But for a reason not clear to them at the timethey were not again attacked by the marshal's wild allies of thewood. The third time they had tried to enter the castle in their pilgrim'sgarb, and the outer picket courteously received them. But when theywere come to the inner curtain, one Robin Romulart, the officer of theguard, a stout fellow, suddenly called to his men to bind and gagthem--in which enterprise, but for the great strength of Malise, theymight have succeeded. For the outer gates had been shut with a clang, and they could hear the soldiers of the garrison hasting from allsides in answer to Robin's summons. But Malise snatched up the bar wherewith the winding cogs of the gatewere turned, and, having broken more than one man's head with it, heforced the massive doors apart by main force, so that they were ableall unharmed to withdraw themselves into the shelter of the woods. Sonear capture had they been, however, that over and over again theyheard the shouting of the parties who scoured the woods in search ofthem. It was the worst feature of their situation that the Marshal de Retzcertainly knew of their presence in his territories, and that he wouldbe easily able to guess their errand and take measures to prevent itsucceeding. Their last and most fatal failure had happened several days before, and the first eager burst of the search for them had passed. But theScots knew that the enemy was thoroughly alarmed, and that it behovedthem to abide very closely within their hiding-place. The Lord James took worst of all with the uncertainty and confinement. Any restraint was unsuited to his jovial temper and open-air life. Butfor the present, at least, and till they could gain some furtherinformation as to the whereabouts of the maidens, it was obvious thatthey could do no better than remain in their seaside shelter. Their latest plan was to abide in the cave till the marshal set outagain upon one of his frequent journeys. Then it would becomparatively easy to ascertain by an ambush whether he was taking thecaptives with him, or if he had left them behind. If the maids were ofhis travelling company, the three rescuers would be guided bycircumstances and the strength of the escort, as to whether or notthey should venture to make an attack. But if by any unhoped-for chance Margaret and Maud were left behind atMachecoul, it would at least be a more feasible enterprise to attackthe fortress during the absence of its master and his men. Alone among the three Scots Malise faced their predicament with somephilosophy. Sholto ate his heart out with uncertainty as to the fateof his sweetheart. The Lord James chafed at the compulsory confinementand at the consistent ill success which had pursued them. But Malise, unwearied of limb and ironic of mood as ever, fished upon the tidalflats for brown-spotted flounders and at the rocky points for whitefish, often remaining at his task till far into the night. Heconstructed snares with a mechanical ingenuity in advance of his age. And what was worth more to the company than any material help, he keptup the spirits of Sholto and of Lord James Douglas both by his braveheart and merry speech, and still more by constantly finding themsomething to do. At the hour of even, one day after they had been a fortnight in thecountry of Retz, the three Scots were sitting moodily on a littlehillock which concealed the entrance to their cave. The forest laybehind them, an impenetrable wall of dense undergrowth crowned alongthe distant horizon by the solemn domes of green stone pines. Itcircumvented them on all sides, save only in front, where, throughseveral beaker-shaped breaks in the high sand dunes they could catch aglimpse of the sea. The Atlantic appeared to fill these clefts halffull, like Venice goblets out of which the purple wine has beenpartially drained. To right and left the pines grew scantier, so thatthe rays of the sunset shone red as molten metal upon their stems andmade a network of alternate gold and black behind them. The three sat thus a long time without speech, only looking up fromtheir tasks to let their eyes rest wistfully for a moment upon thedeep and changeful amethyst of the sea, and then with a light sighgoing back to the cleaning of their armoury or the shaping of a longbow. It chanced that for several minutes no sound was heard except thoseconnected with their labour, the low whistle with which the Lord Jamesaccompanied his polishing, the _wisp-wisp_ of Malise's arms as hesewed the double thread back and forth through a rent in his leathernjack, and the rasp of Sholto's file as he carved out the finials ofthe bow, the notched grooves wherein the string was to lie so easilyand yet so firmly. Thus they continued to work, absorbed, each of them in the sadness ofhis own thought, till suddenly a shadow seemed to strike between themand the red light of the western sky. They looked up, and before them, as it were ascending out of the very glow of sunset, they saw a womanon a white palfrey approaching them by the way of the sea. So suddenly did she appear that the Lord James uttered a low cry ofwonder, while Malise the practical reached for his sword. But Sholtohad seen this vision twice already, and knew their visitor for theLady Sybilla. "Hold there!" he said in an undertone. "Remember it is as I said. Thiswoman, though we have no cause to love her, is now our only hope. Herwords brought us here. They were true words, and I believe that shecomes as a friend. I will stake my life on it. " "Or if she comes as an enemy we are no worse off, " grumbled scepticalMalise. "We can at least encourage the woman and then hold her as anhostage. " The three Scots were standing to receive their guest when the LadySybilla rode up. Her face had lost none of the pale sadness whichmarked it when Sholto last saw her, and though the look of utter agonyhad passed away, the despair of a soul in pain had only become moredeeply printed upon it. The girl having acknowledged their salutations with a stately andwell-accustomed motion of the head, reached a hand for Sholto to lifther from her palfrey. Then, still without spoken word, she silently seated herself on thegrey-lichened rock rudely shaped into the semblance of a chair, onwhich Malise had been sitting at his mending. The strange maidenlooked long at the blue sea deepening in the notches of the sand dunesbeneath them. The three men stood before her waiting for her to speak. Each of them knew that lives, dearer and more precious than their own, hung upon what she might have to say. At last she spoke, in a voice low as the wind when it blows itslightest among the trees: "You have small cause to trust me or to count me your friend, " shesaid; "but we have that which binds closer than friendship--a commonenemy and a common cause of hatred. It were better, therefore, that weshould understand one another. I have never lost sight of you sinceyou came to this fatal land of Retz. I have been near you when youknew it not. To accomplish this I have deceived the man who is mytaskmaster, swearing to him that in the witch crystal I have seen youdepart. And I shall yet deceive him in more deadly fashion. " Sholto could restrain himself no longer. "Enough, " he said roughly; "tell us whether the maidens are alive, andif they are abiding in this Castle of Machecoul. " The Lady Sybilla did not remove her eyes from the red west. "Thus far they are safe, " she said, in the same calm monotone. "Thisvery hour I have come from the White Tower, in which they areconfined. But he whom I serve swears by an oath that if you or otherrescuers are heard of again in this country, he will destroy themboth. " She shuddered as she spoke with a strong revulsion of feeling. "Therefore, be careful with a great carefulness. Give up all thoughtof rescuing them directly. Remember what you have been able toaccomplish, and that your slightest actions will bring upon those youlove a fate of which you little dream. " "After what we remember of Crichton Castle, how can we trust you, lady?" said Malise, sternly. "Do you now speak the truth with yourmouth?" "You have indeed small cause to think so, " she answered without takingoffence. "Yet, having no choice, you must e'en trust me. " She turned sharply upon Sholto with a strip of paper in heroutstretched hand. "I think, young sir, that you have some reason to know from whom thatcomes. " Sholto grasped at the writing with a new and wonderful hope in hisheart. He knew instinctively before he touched it that none but MaudLindesay could have written that script--small, clear, and distinct asa motto cut on a gem. "_To our friends in France and Scotland, _" so it ran. "_We are stillsafe this eve of the Blessed Saint Michael. Trust her who brings thisletter. She is our saviour and our only hope in a dark and evil place. She is sorry for that which by her aid hath been done. As you hope forforgiveness, forgive her. And for God's dear sake, do immediately thething she bids you. This comes from Margaret de Douglas and MaudLindesay. It is written by the hand of M. L. _" The wax at the bottom was sealed in double with the boar's head ofLindesay and the heart of Margaret of Douglas. Sholto, having read the missive silently, passed it to the Lord Jamesthat he might prove the seals, for it was his only learning to beskilled in heraldry. "It is true, " he said; "I myself gave the little maid that ring. See, it hath a piece broken from the peak of the device. " "My lady, " said Sholto, "that which you bring is more than enough. Wekiss your hand and we will sacredly do all your bidding, were it untothe death or the trial by fire. " Then, as was the custom to do to ladies whom knights would honour, theLord James and Sholto kneeled down and kissed the hand of Sybilla deThouars. But Malise, not being a knight, took it only and settled itupon his great grizzled head, where it rested for a moment, lightly asupon some grey and ancient tower lies a flake of snow before it melts. "I thank you for your overmuch courtesy, " the girl said, casting hereyes on the ground with a new-born shyness most like that of a modestmaid; "I thank you, indeed. You do me honour far above my desert. Still, after all, we work for one end. You have, it is true, thenobler motive, --the lives of those you love; but I the deadlier, --thedeath of one I hate! Hearken!" She paused as if to gather strength for that which she had to reveal, and then, reaching her hands out, she motioned the three men to gathermore closely about her, as if the blue Atlantic waves or the red bolesof the pine trees might carry the matter. "Listen, " she said, "the end comes fast--faster than any know, save I, to whom for my sins the gift of second sight hath been given. I whospeak to you am of Brittany and of the House of De Thouars. To one ofus in each generation descends this abhorred gift of second sight. AndI, because as a child it was my lot to meet one wholly given over toevil, have seen more and clearer than all that have gone before me. But now I do foresee the end of the wickedest and most devilish soulever prisoned within the body of man. " As she spoke the heads of the three Scots bent lower and closer tocatch every word, for the voice of the Lady Sybilla was more like thecooing of a mating turtle as it answers its comrade than that of awoman betrayed, denouncing vengeance and death upon him whom her soulhated. "Be of good heart, then, and depart as I shall bid you. None can helpor hinder here at Machecoul but I alone. Be sure that at the worst theunnameable shall not happen to the maids. For in me there is the powerto slay the evil-doer. But slay I will not unless it be to keep thelives of the maids. Because I desire for Gilles de Retz a fategreater, more terrible, more befitting iniquity such as the world hathnever heard spoken of since it arose from the abyss. "And this is it given to me to bring upon him whom my soul hateth, "she went on. "I have seen the hempen cord by which he shall hang. Ihave seen the fire through which his soul shall pass to its own place. Through me this fate shall come upon him suddenly in one night. " Her face lighted up with an inner glow, and shone translucent in thedarkening of the day and the dusk of the trees, as if the fair veil offlesh wavered and changed about the vengeful soul within. "And now, " she went on after a pause, "I bid you, gentlemen of thehouse of Douglas, to depart to John, Duke of Brittany, and havingfound him to lay this paper before him. It contains the number and thenames of those who have died in the castles of de Retz. It shows inwhat hidden places the bones of these slaughtered innocents may befound. Clamour in his ear for justice in the name of the King ofFrance, and if he will not hear, then in the name of the folk ofBrittany. And if still because of his kinship he will not listen, goto the Bishop of Nantes, who hates Gilles de Retz. Better than any heknows how to stir the people, and he will send with you trusty men tocause the country to rise in rebellion. Then they will overturn allthe castles of de Retz, and the hidden things shall come to light. This do, and for this time depart from Machecoul, and entrust me (asindeed you must) with the honour and lives of those you love. I willkeep them with mine own until destruction pass upon him who is outcastfrom God, and whom now his own fiend from hell hath deserted. " Then, having sworn to do her bidding, the three Scots conducted theLady Sybilla with honour and observance to her white palfrey, and likea spirit she vanished into the sea mists which had sifted up from thewest, going back to the drear Castle of Machecoul, but bearing withher the burden of her revenge. CHAPTER LIV THE CROSS UNDER THE APRON The face of Gilles de Laval, Lord of Retz, had shone all day with anunholy lustre like that of iron in which the red heat yet struggleswith the black. In the Castle of Machecoul his familiars went about, wearing expressions upon their countenances in which disgust andexpectation were mingled with an overwhelming fear of the terriblebaron. The usual signs of approaching high saturnalia at Machecoul had notbeen wanting. Early in the morning La Meffraye had been seen hovering like anunclean bird of prey about the playing grounds of the village childrenat Saint Benoit on the edges of the forest. At nine the frightenedvillagers heard the howl of a day-hunting wolf, and one Louis Verger, a woodman who was cutting bark for the tanneries in the valley, saw ahuge grey wolf rush out and seize his little son, Jean, a boy of fiveyears old, who came bringing his father's breakfast. With a great cryhe hurried back to alarm the village, but when men gathered withscythes and rude weapons of the chase, the beast's track was lost inthe depth of the forest. Little Jean Verger of Saint Benoit was never seen again, unless itwere he who, half hidden under the long black cloak of La Meffraye, was brought at noon by the private postern of the baron into theCastle of Machecoul. So the men of Saint Benoit went not back to their work, but abodetogether all that day, sullen anger burning in their hearts. And onecalling himself the servant of the Bishop of Nantes went about amongthem, and his words were as knives, sharp and bitter beyond belief. And ever as he spoke the men turned them about till they facedMachecoul. Their lips moved like those of a Moslemite who says hisprayers towards Mecca. And the words they uttered were indeed prayersof solemnest import. With his usual devotion at such seasons, Gilles de Retz had attendedservice thrice that day in his Chapel of the Holy Innocents. Hisbehaviour had been marked by intense devoutness. An excessivetenderness of conscience had characterised his confessions to PčreBlouyn, his spiritual director-in-ordinary. He confessed as his mostflagrant sin that his thoughts were overmuch set on the vanities ofthe world, and that he had even sometimes been tempted of the devil toquestion the right of Holy Church herself to settle all questionsaccording to the will of her priests and prelates. Whereupon Pčre Blouyn, with suave correctness of judgment, had pointedout wherein his master erred; but also cautioned him against thatundue tenderness of conscience natural to one with his exaltedposition and high views of duty and life. Finally the marshal hadreceived absolution. In the late afternoon the Lord of Retz commanded the fire to be laidready for lighting in his chamber aloft in the keep of Machecoul, andset himself down to listen to the singing of the choir, which, underthe guidance of Precentor Renouf, rehearsed for him the sweetest hymnsrecently written for the choir of the Holy Father at Rome. For therethe marshal's choir-master had been trained, and with its leader hestill kept up a correspondence upon kindred interests. Gilles de Retz, as he sat under the late blooming roses in theafternoon sunshine of the autumn of western France, appeared to thecasual eye one of the most noble seigneurs and the most enlightened inthe world. He affected a costume already semiecclesiastic as a tokenof his ultimate intention to enter holy orders. It seemed indeed as ifthe great soldier who had ridden into Orleans with Dunois and the Maidhad begun to lay aside his earthly glories and seek the heavenly. There, upon a chair set within the cloisters, in a place which thesunshine touched most lovingly and where it lingered longest, he sat, nodding his head to the sound of the sweet singing, and bowing low ateach mention of the name of Jesus (as the custom is)--a still, meditative, almost saintly man. Upon the lap of his furred robe (for, after all, it was a sunshine with a certain shrewd wintriness in it)lay an illuminated copy of the Holy Gospels; and sometimes as helistened to the choir-boys singing, he glanced therein, and read ofthe little children to whom belongs the kingdom. Upon occasion helifted the book also, and looked with pleasure at the pictured cherubswho cheered the way of the Master Jerusalemwards with strewn palmleaves and shouted hosannas. And ever sweeter and sweeter fell the music upon his ear, tillsuddenly, like the silence after a thunderclap, the organ ceased toroll, the choir was silent, and out of the quiet rose a singlevoice--that of Laurence the Scot singing in a tenor of infinitesweetness the words of blessing: "_Suffer the little children to come unto Me, And forbid them not; For of such is the Kingdom of Heaven. _" And as the boy's voice welled out, clear and thrilling as the song ofan upward pulsing lark, the tears ran down the face of Gilles de Retz. God knows why. Perhaps it was some glint of his own innocentchildhood--some half-dimmed memory of his happily dead mother. Perhaps--but enough. Gilles de Laval de Retz went up the turret stairto find Poitou and Gilles de Sillé on guard on either side the portalswhich closed his chamber. "Is all ready?" he asked, though the tears were scarcely dry on hischeeks. They bowed before him to the ground. "All is ready, lord and master, " they said as with one voice. "And Prelati?" "He is in waiting. " "And La Meffraye, " he went on, "has she arrived?" "La Meffraye has arrived, " they said; "all goes fortunately. " "Good!" said Gilles de Retz, and shedding his furred monkish cloakcarelessly from off his shoulders, he went within. Poitou and Gilles de Sillé both reached to catch the mantle ere itfell. As they did so their hands met and touched. And at the meetingof each other's flesh they started and drew apart. Their eyesencountered furtively and were instantly withdrawn. Then, having hungup the cloak, with pallid countenances and lips white and tremulous, they slowly followed the marshal within. * * * * * "Sybilla de Thouars, as you are in my power, so I bid you work mywill!" It was the deep, stern voice of the Marshal de Retz which spoke. TheLady Sybilla lay back in a great chair with her eyes closed, breathingslowly and gently through her parted lips. Messire Gilles stood beforeher with his hands joined palm to palm and his white fingertips almosttouching the girl's brow. "Work my will and tell me what you see!" Her hands were clasped under a light silken apron which she woredescending from her neck and caught in a loose loop behind her gown. The fingers were firmly netted one over the other and clutched betweenthem was a golden crucifix. The girl was praying, as one prays who dares not speak. "O God, who didst hang on this cross--keep now my soul. Condemn itafterwards, but help me to keep it this night. Deliver me--oh, deliverfrom the power of this man. Help me to lie. By Thy Son's blood, helpme to lie well this night. " "Where are the three men from the land of the Scots? Tell me what yousee. Tell me all, " the marshal commanded, still standing before her inthe same posture. Then the voice of the Lady Sybilla began to speak, low and even, andwith that strange halt at the end of the sentences. The Lord of Retznodded, well pleased when he heard the sound. It was the voice of theseeress. Oftentimes he had heard it before, and it had never deceivedhim. "I see a boat on a stormy sea, " she said; "there are three men in it. One is great of stature and very strong. The others are young men. They are trying to furl the sail. A gust strikes them. The boat heelsand goes over. I see them struggling in the pit of waters. There arecliffs white and crumbling above them. They are calling for help asthey cling to the boat. Now there is but one of them left. I see himtrying to climb up the slippery rocks. He falls back each time. He isweary with much buffeting. The waves break about him and suck himunder. Now I do not see the men any more, but I can hear the brokenmast of the boat knocking hollow and dull against the rocks. Some fewshreds of the sail are wrapped about it. But the three men are gone. " She ceased suddenly. Her lips stopped their curiously detachedutterance. But under her breath and deep in her soul Sybilla de Thouars was stillpraying as before. And this which follows was her prayer: "O God, his devil is surely departed from him. I thank thee, God oftruth, for helping me to lie. " "It is well, " said Gilles de Retz, standing erect witha satisfied air. "All is well. The three Scots who sought my life aregone to their destruction. Now, Sybilla de Thouars, I bid you lookupon John, Duke of Brittany. Tell me what he does and says. " The level, impassive, detached voice began again. The hands claspedthe cross of gold more closely under the silk apron. "I see a room done about with silver scallop shells and white-paintedermines. I see a fair, cunning-faced, soft man. Behind him stands onetall, spare, haggard--" "Pierre de l'Hopital, President of Brittany--one that hates me, " saidde Retz, grimly between his teeth. "I will meet my fingers about hisdog's throat yet. What of him?" The Lady Sybilla, without a quiver of her shut eyelids took up thecue. "He hath his finger on a parchment. He strives to point out somethingto the fair-haired man, but that other shakes his head and will notagree--" The marshal suddenly grew intent, and even excited. "Look closer, Sybilla--look closer. Can you not read that which iswritten on the parchment? I bid you, by all my power, to read it. " Then the countenance of the Lady Sybilla was altered. Striving andblank failure were alternately expressed upon it. "I cannot! Oh, I cannot!" she cried. "By my power, I bid you. By that which I will make you suffer if youfail me, I command you!" cried Gilles de Retz, bending himself towardsher and pressing his fingers against her brow so that the pointsdented her skin. The tears sprang from underneath the dark lashes which lay sotremulously upon her white cheek. "You make me do it! It hurts! I cannot!" she said in the pitiful voiceof a child. "Read--or suffer the shame!" cried Gilles de Retz. "I will--oh, I will! Be not angry, " she answered pleadingly. And underneath the silk the hands were grasped with a grip like thatof a vice upon the golden cross she had borrowed from the little Maidof Galloway. "Read me that which is written on the paper, " said the marshal. The Lady Sybilla began to speak in a voice so low that Gilles de Retzhad to incline his ear very close to her lips to listen. "Accusation against the great lord and most noble seigneur, Gilles deLaval de Retz, Sire de--" "That is it--go on after the titles, " said the eager voice of themarshal. "Accused of having molested the messengers of his suzerain, thesupreme Duke John of Brittany, accused of ill intent against theState; accused of quartering the arms-royal upon his shield; called toanswer for these offences in the city of Nantes--and that is all. " She ended abruptly, like one who is tired and desires no more than tosleep. Gilles de Retz drew a long sigh of relief. "All is hid, " he said; "these things are less than nothing. What doesthe Duke?" "I cannot look again, I am weary, " she said. "Look again!" thundered her taskmaster. "I see the fair-haired man take the parchment from the hand of thedark, stern man--" "With whom I will reckon!" "He tries to tear it in two, but cannot. He throws it angrily in thefire. " "My enemies are destroyed, " said Gilles de Retz, "I thank thee, greatBarran-Sathanas. Thou hast indeed done that which thou didst promise. Henceforth I am thy servant and thy slave. " So saying, he took a glass of water from the table and dashed it onthe face of the Lady Sybilla. "Awake, " he said, "you have done well. Go now and repose that you mayagain be ready when I have need of you. " A flicker of conscious life appeared under the purple-veined eyelidsof the Lady Sybilla. Her long, dark lashes quivered, tried to rise, and again lay still. The marshal took the illuminated copy of the Evangelists from thetable and fanned her with the thin parchment leaves. "Awake!" he cried harshly and sternly. The eyes of the girl slowly opened their pupils dark and dilated. Shecarried her hand to her head, but wearily, as if even that slightmovement pained her. The golden cross swung unseen under the silkenfolds of her apron. "I am so tired--so tired, " the girl murmured to herself as Gilles deRetz assisted her to rise. Then hastily handing her over to Poitou, hebade him conduct her to her own chamber. But as she went through the door of the marshal's laboratory shelooked upon the floor and smiled almost joyously. "His devil has indeed departed from him, " she murmured to herself. "Ithank the God of Righteousness who this night hath enabled me tobaffle him with a woman's poor wit, and to lie to him that he may beled quick to destruction, and fall himself into the pit which he hathprepared for the feet of the innocent. " CHAPTER LV THE RED MILK Darkly and swiftly the autumn night descended upon Machecoul. In thestreets of the little feudal bourg there were few passers-by, and suchas there were clutched their cloaks tighter round them and scurriedon. Or if they raised their heads, it was only to take a hasty, fearful glance at the vast bulk of the castle looming imminent abovethem. From a window high in the central keep a red light streamed out, andwhen the clouds flew low, strange dilated shadows were wont to be castupon the rolling vapour. Sometimes smoke, acrid and heavy, belliedforth, and anon wild cries of pain and agony floated down to silencethe footfalls of the home-returning rustics and chill the hearts ofburghers trembling in their beds. But none dared to question in public the doings of the great andpuissant lord of all the country of Retz. It fared not well with himwho even looked too much at the things which were done. The night was yet darker up aloft in the Castle of Machecoul itself. In the sacristy good Father Blouyn, with an air of resignedreluctance, was handing over to an emissary of his master the mouldsin which the tall altar candles for the Chapel of the Holy Innocentswere usually cast and compacted. And as Clerk Henriet went out withthe moulds he took a long look through a private spy-hole at the ladsof the choir who were sitting in the hall apportioned to their use. They were supposed to be busy with their lessons, and, indeed, a fewwere poring over their books with some show of studious absorption. But for the most part they were playing at cards and dominos, or, inthe absence of the master, sticking intimate pins and throwing aboutindiscriminate ink, according to the immemorial use of the choir-boy. Clerk Henriet counted them twice over and in especial looked carefullyto see what did the young Scots lad, who had so mysteriously escapedfrom the dread room of his master. Laurence MacKim played X's and O'supon a board with Blaise Renouf, the precentor's son, and at somehitch in the game he incontinently clouted the Frenchman upon the ear. Whereupon ensued trouble and the spilling of much ink. Henriet, perfectly satisfied, took up the heavy moulds and made hisway to his lord's chamber, where many things were used for purposesother than those for which they had been intended. Upon the back of his departure came in the Precentor Renouf, who laidhis baton conjointly and freely about the ears of his son and those ofLaurence MacKim. "Get to your beds both of you, and that supperless, for uproar andconduct ill becoming two youths who worship God all day in hissanctuary, and are maintained at grievous expense by our most devoutand worthy lord, Messire Gilles of Laval and Retz, Seigneur and Lord!" Laurence, who had of set purpose provoked the quarrel, was slinkingaway, when the "Psalta" (as the choir-master is called in lowerBrittany) ordered them to sleep in separate rooms for the betterkeeping of the peace. "And do you, Master Laurence, perform your vigil of the night upon thepavement of the chapel. For you are the most rebellious andtroublesome of all--indeed, past bearing. Go! Not a word, sirrah!" So, much rejoiced in heart that matters had thus fallen out, LaurenceMacKim betook himself to the Chapel of the Holy Innocents, and wasduly locked in by the irate precentor. For, upon various occasions, he had watched the Lord of Retz descendinto the chapel by a private staircase which opened out in an anglebehind the altar. He had also seen Poitou, his confidentialbody-servant, lock it after him with a small key of a yellow colourwhich he took from his fork pocket. Now Master Laurence, as may have already been observed, was (like mostof the youthful unordained clergy) little troubled, at least in minormatters, with scruples about such slight distinctions as those whichdivide _meum_ and _tuum_. He found no difficulty therefore inabstracting this key when Poitou was engaged in attending his masterfrom the chapel, in which service it was his duty to pass the stallswith open lattice ends of carven work in which sat the elderchoir-boys. Having secured the key, Laurence hid it instantly beneaththe leaden saint on his cap, refastening the long pin which kept ourLady of Luz in her place through the fretwork of the little brazenkey. Presently he saw Poitou come back and look carefully here and thereupon the floor, but after a while, not finding anything, he went outagain to search elsewhere. The idea had come to Laurence that at the head of the stairway fromthe chapel was the prison chamber of Maud Lindesay and her ward, thelittle Maid Margaret of Galloway. He told himself at least that this was his main object, and doubtlesshe had the matter in his mind. But a far stronger motive was hiscuriosity and the magic influence of the mysterious and the unknownupon the heart of youth. More than to deliver Margaret of Galloway, Laurence longed to lookagain upon the iron altar and to know the truth concerning the strangesacrifices which were consummated there. And he yearned to see againthat rough-eared image graven after the fashion of a man. And the reason was not far to seek. For if even the worship of the High God, according to the practice ofthe most enlightened nations, grounds itself upon blood and sacrifice, what wonder if, in the worship of the lords of Hell, the blood of theinnocent is an oblation well pleasing and desirable. Rooted and ineradicable is the desire in man's heart to know good andevil--but particularly evil. And so now Laurence desired to see thesacrifice laid between the horns of the altar and the image above leanover as if to gloat upon the sweet savour of its burning. Long and carefully Laurence listened before he ventured forth. TheChapel of the Innocents was dark and silent. Only a reflection of thered light which burned in the keep struck through the clerestory uponthe great cross which swung above the altar. This, being dispersedlike a halo about the sign of Christ's redemption, rendered the cornerwhere was placed the door into the secret stairway light enough toenable the youth to insert therein Poitou's key. The wards were turnedwith well-accustomed smoothness. Carefully shutting the door behind him so that if any one chanced toenter the chapel nothing would be observed, Laurence set his feet uponthe steps and began his adventure of supreme peril. It was a narrow staircase, only wide enough indeed for one to ascendor descend at once. And the heart of Laurence sank within him at thethought of meeting the dread Lord of Machecoul face to face in itsstrait, black spirals. He accomplished the ascent, however, without incident, and, passingthrough another low arch, found himself at the end of the passage overagainst the door with the curious burned hieroglyphics imprinted uponit. There was no light in the corridor, and Laurence eagerly set hishand to the latch. It opened as before and admitted him at a touch. The temple-like hall was silent and dim. Only an occasional thrill asif of an earthquake passed across it, waving the heavy hangings andbringing a hot breath of some strange heady perfume to the nostrils. Laurence, with a beating heart, ensconced himself in a hidden nookbehind the door. The niche was covered by a curtain and furnished witha grooved slab of marble placed there for some purpose he could notfathom. Yet it was by no means wholly dark. A light shone into the Chapel ofEvil from the opposite side, and through it he could discern shadowscast upon the floors and striding gigantic across the roof, as unseenpersonages passed the light which streamed into the dusky temple. In the gloomiest part of the background, hinted rather than seen, hecould make out the vast dark figure dominating the iron altar. Then Laurence remembered that the chamber of the marshal lay on theother side--the room with the immense fireplace which he had onceentered and from which he had barely escaped with his life. Little by little Laurence raised himself upon the grooved slab until, standing erect, he could see some small part of the whitewashed, red-floored chamber he remembered so well--only a strip, however, extending from the door through which he looked to the great fireplacewhereon the heaped wood had already been kindled. At first all was confused. Laurence saw Henriet and Poitou goinghastily here and there, as servitors do who prepare for a greatfunction. Then came a pause, heavy with doom. On the back of this heheard or seemed to hear the frightened pleading of a child, the short, sharp commands of a soldier's voice, a sound as of a blow stricken, and then again a whimpering hush. Laurence leaned against the wallwith his face in his hands. He dared not look within. Then he liftedhis head, and lo! in the gloom it seemed as if the huge image hadturned towards him, and in a pleased, confidential way were noddingapproval of his presence. He heard the voice of the Marshal de Retz again--this time kindly, andeven affectionate. Some one was not to be frightened. Some one was totake a draught from the goblet and fear nothing. They would not hurthim. They had but played with him. Again Henriet and Poitou passed and repassed, and once Gilles de Silléflashed across the interspace handing a broad-edged gleaming knifeswiftly and surreptitiously to some one unseen. Then came a short, sharp cry of agony, a gurgling moan, and black, blank, unutterable horror shut down on Laurence's spirit. He sank down on his face behind the door and covered his eyes and earswith his hands. So he lay for a space without motion, almost withoutsense, upon the naked grooves of the marble slab. When he came tohimself, a dusky light was diffused through the chapel. As he lookedhe saw La Meffraye come to the door and set her face within, like somebird of night, hideous and foul. Then she returned and Gilles de Silléand Clerk Henriet came into the chapel bearing between them a greatgolden cup, filled (as it seemed by the care with which they carriedit) to the very brim with some precious liquid. To them, all clad in a priest's robe of flame-coloured velvet, succeeded the Lord of Retz himself. He held in his hand like aservice-book the great manuscript written in red, which he had beentranscribing at Sybilla's entrance, and as he walked he chanted, witha strange intonation, words that thrilled the very soul of the youngman listening. And yet, as Laurence looked forth from his hiding-place, it appearedthat the black statue nodded once more to him as one who would say, "Take note and remember what thou seest; for one day thy testimonyshall be needful. " These were the words he heard in the chanting monotone: "O great and mighty Barran-Sathanas--my only lord and master, whomwith all due observance I do worship, look mercifully upon this thesacrifice of innocent blood; let it be grateful to thee--to whom allevil is as the breath of life! "Hear us, O Barran-Sathanas! Thou hast been deaf in past days, becausewe served thee not without drawback or withholding, without sparingand without remorse. Because we hesitated to give thee the best, thedelicatest, the most pitiful. But now take this innocentest innocence. Behold I, Gilles de Retz, make to thee the matchless sacrifice of theRed Milk thou lovest. "The Red Milk I pour for thee. The Red Milk I bring thee. The Red MilkI drink to thee--that thou mayest be pleased to restore vital energyand new youth to my veins, to make me strong as a young man in hisstrength, and wiser than the wisdom of age. Hear me, O great master ofall the evil of the universe, thou equal and coadjutor of the Masterof Good, hear and manifest thy so mighty power. Hear me and answer, OBarran-Sathanas!" Gilles de Retz took the cup from the hands of the servitors. He seemedso weak with his crying that he could hardly hold it between histrembling palms. He lifted his head and again cried aloud: "See, I am weak, my Satan--see how I tremble. Strength is departedfrom me. Youth is dead. Help thy faithful servant, aid him to lift upthis precious oblation to thee!" And as the great dusky image seemed to lean over him, with a hoarsecry Gilles de Retz raised the cup and held it high above his head. Ashe did so a beam, sudden as lightning, fell upon it, and with a quick, instinctive horror, Laurence saw that it was filled to the brim withblood fresh and red. The marshal's voice strengthened. "It is coming! It is coming! Barran manifests himself! O great lord, to thee I drain this draught!" cried Gilles de Retz. "The Red Milk, the precious milk of innocence, to thee I drink it!" And he set the cup to his lips and drank deep and long. * * * * * "It comes. It fills me. I am strong. O Barran, give me yet morestrength. My limbs revive. My pulse beats. I am young as when I rodewith Dunois. Barran, thou art indeed mightier than God. I will givethee yet more and more. I swear it. I have kept the best wine till thelast--the death vintage of a great house. The wine of beauty andbrightness--I have kept it for thee. Halt not to make me stronger!Help me--Barran, help--I fail--!" His voice had risen higher and higher till it was well nigh a screamof agony. Strangely too, in spite of the fictitious youth that glowedin his veins and coloured his cheek, it sounded like a senile shriek. But all suddenly, at the very height of his exaltation, the cup fromwhich he had drunk slipped from his hand and rolled upon thetesselated pavement of the temple, staining it in gouts and vividblotches of crimson. "Hasten, ere I lose the power--I feel it checked. Poitou, De Sillé, Henriet, go bring hither from the White Tower the Scottish maids. Run, dogs--or you die! Quick, Henriet! Good De Sillé, quick! Fail notyour master now! It ebbs, it weakens--and it was so near completion. Stay, O Barran, till I finish the sacrifice, and here at thy feetoffer up to thee the richest, and the fairest, and the noblest! Bringhither the maidens! I tell you, bring them quickly!" And the terrible Lord of Retz, exhausted with his own fury, casthimself at the feet of the gigantic image, which, bending over him, seemed with the same grimace sardonically to mock alike his exaltationand his downfall. But Laurence heard no more. For sense and feeling had wholly departedfrom him, and he lay as one dead behind the door of the temple ofBarran-Sathanas, Lord of Evil, in the thrice-abhorrent Castle ofMachecoul. CHAPTER LVI THE SHADOW BEHIND THE THRONE Within the grim walls of Black Angers Duke John of Brittany andreigning sovereign of western France was holding his court. The cityand fortress did not properly, of right and parchment holding, appertain to him. But he had occupied it during the recent troubleswith the English, and his loving cousin and nominal suzerain Charlesthe Seventh of France had not yet been strong enough to make himrender it up again. The Duke sat in the central tower of the fortress of Black Angers, that which looks between the high flanking turrets of the mightyenceinte of walls. He wriggled discontentedly in his chair andgrumbled under his breath. At his shoulder, tall, gaunt, angular, with lantern jaws and a mouthlike a wolf trap, deep-set eyes that flamed under bushy eyebrows, stood Pierre de l'Hopital, the true master of Brittany. "I tell you I will go to the tennis-courts--the three Scots must waitaudience till to-morrow. What errand can they have with me--somerascals whom Charles will not pay now that his job is done? They cometo take service doubtless. A beggarly lot are all such out-landvarlets, but brave--yes, excellent soldiers are the Scots, so long asthey are well fed, that is. " "Nay, my Lord Duke, " said Pierre de l'Hopital, standing up tall andsombre, his long black gown accentuating the peculiarities of hisfigure. "It were almost necessary to see these men now and hear whatthey have to say. I myself have seen them and judge it to be so. " John of Brittany threw down the little sceptre, fashioned in imitationof that made for the King of France, with which he had been toying. The action was that of a pettish child. "Oh, " he cried, "if you have decided, there remains nothing for me butto obey!" "I thank your Excellency for your gracious readiness to grant the menan interview, " said Pierre de l'Hopital, having regard to theessential matter and disregarding the unessential manner. Duke John sat glooming and kicking his feet to and fro on the raiseddais, while behind his chair, impassive as the Grand Inquisitorhimself, Pierre de l'Hopital, President of Brittany, lifted a hand toan unseen servitor; and in a few moments the three Scots were usheredinto the ducal presence. The Lord James in virtue of his quality stood a little in front, notby his own will or desire, but because Sholto and his father had soplaced themselves that the young noble should have his own rightfulprecedence. For as to these things all Scots are careful by nature. Duke John continued to keep his eyes averted from the men who soughthis presence. He teased a little lop-eared spaniel, and nipped it tillit yelped. But the President of Brittany never took his eyes off thestrangers, examining them with a bold, keen, remorseless glance, inwhich, however, there was neither evil nor the tolerance of it. Not aman to make himself greatly beloved, this Pierre de l'Hopital. And little he cared whether or no. In Brittany men did his will. Thatwas enough. James Douglas was nettled at the inattention of the Duke. He was ofthat large and sanguine nature which is at once easily touched by anydiscourtesy and very quick to resent it. "My Lord of Brittany, " he began in a loud clear voice, and in hisusual immaculate French, "I claim your attention for a little. I cometo lay before you that which touches your kin and kingdom. " Duke John continued to play with the lap-dog, and in addition heformed his mouth to whistle. But he never whistled. "His Grace of Brittany will now give you his undivided attention, "said the President from behind, without moving a muscle either of hisbody or of his face, save those necessary to propel the words from hisvocal cords. The brow of Duke John flushed with anger, but he did not disobey. Heraised his head and gazed straight at the three men, fixing his eyes, however, with a studied discourtesy upon Sholto instead of upon theirnatural leader and spokesman. Behind his chair Pierre de l'Hopital let his deep inscrutable eyedroop once upon his master, and his spare and sinewy wrists twitchedas he held his arms by his side. He seemed upon the point of dealingducal dignity a box on the ear both sound and improving. "I am the Lord James of Douglas and Avondale, " said the leader of theScots with grave dignity, "and I had three years ago the honour ofbreaking a lance with you in the tilt-yard of Poitiers, when in thattown your Grace met with the King of France and the Duke of Burgundy. " At this John of Brittany looked up quickly. "I do not remember you, " he said, "and I never forget faces. EvenPierre will grant me that. " "Your Grace may possibly remember, then, the dint in your shoulderthat you got from the point of a spear, caused by the breaking of thelinks of your shoulder-piece. " A light kindled in the Duke's eyes. "What, " he cried, "you are the young Scot who fought so well and kepthis shield up day by day over the door of a common sergeant's tent, having no pavilion of his own, till it was all over dints like analehouse tankard?" "As were also the knights who dinted it, " grimly commented Pierre del'Hopital. The Lord James of Avondale bowed. "I am that knight, " he said quietly and with gravity. "But, " cried the Duke, "I knew not then that you were of Douglas. Thatis a great name in Poitiers, and had we known your race and quality wehad not been so ready with our shield-rapping. " "At that time, " said James Douglas, "I had not the right to add 'ofDouglas' to my titles. But during this year my father hath succeededto the Earldom and estates. " "What--then is your father Duke of Touraine?" cried the Duke ofBrittany, much astonished. "Nay, my lord, " said James Douglas, with some little bitterness. "TheKing of France hath caused that to revert to himself by the successwhich attended a certain mission executed for him in Scotland by hisChamberlain, the Marshal de Retz, concerning whom we have come fromfar to speak with you. " "Ah, my cousin Gilles!" cried Duke John. "He is not a beauty to lookat, but he is a brave man, our Gilles. I heard he had gone toScotland. I wonder if he contrived to make himself as popular in yourland as he has done in ours. " With a certain grave severity to which Pierre de l'Hopital noddedapproval, the Lord James replied: "At the instigation of the King ofFrance and Louis the Dauphin he succeeded in murdering my two cousinsWilliam and David of Douglas, and in carrying over hither with him tohis own country their only sister, the little Countess ofGalloway--thus rooting out the greatest house in Scotland to the hurtof the whole realm. " "But to your profit, my Lord James of Avondale, " commented the hollowvoice of Pierre de l'Hopital, speaking over his master's head. The face of James Douglas flushed quickly. "No, messire, " he answered with a swift heat. "Not to my profit--to myinfinite loss. For I loved my cousin. I honoured him, and for his sakewould have fought to the death. For his sake have I renounced my ownfather that begat me. And for his sake I stand here to ask for justiceto the little maiden, the last of his race, to whom by right belongsthe fairest province of his dominions. No, messire, you are wrong. Inall this have I had no profit but only infinite hurt. " Pierre de l'Hopital bowed low. There was a pleased look on his facethat almost amounted to a smile. "I crave your pardon, my lord, " he said; "that is well said indeed, and he is a gentleman who speaks it. " "Aye, it is indeed well said, and he had you shrewdly on the hip thattime, Pierre, " cried Duke John. "I wish he could teach me thuscleverly to answer you when you croak. " "If you had as good a cause, my lord, " said the President of Brittanyto the Duke, "it were not difficult to answer me as sharply. But weare keeping these gentlemen from declaring the purpose of theirjourney hither. " The Lord James waited for no further invitation. "I come, " he said boldly, holding a parchment in his hand, the same hehad received from the Lady Sybilla, "to denounce Gilles de Retz and toaccuse him of many cruel and unrighteous acts such as have never beendone in any kingdom. I accuse him of the murder of over four hundredchildren of all ages and both sexes in circumstances of unparalleledbarbarity. I am ready to lead you to the places where lie theirbodies, some of them burned and their ashes cast into the ditch, others charred and thrown into unused towers. I have here names, instances, evidence enough to taint and condemn a hundred monsterssuch as Gilles de Retz. " "Ah, give me the paper, " came the raucous voice of the President ofBrittany, as he reached a bony hand over his master's shoulder toseize it. The Lord James advanced, and giving it to him said, "Messire, I wouldhave you know that a copy of this is already in the hands of a trustyperson in each of the towns and villages which are named here, andfrom which children have been led to cruel death by him whom I haveaccused, Gilles de Retz, Marshal of France. " The President of Brittany nodded as he almost snatched the paper inhis eagerness to peruse it. "The point is cleverly taken, " he said, "as justly indeed as if youknew my Lord of Brittany as well as, for instance, I know him. " The Duke was obviously discomfited. He shuffled his feet more thanever on the dais and combed his straggling fair beard with soft, white, tapering fingers. "This is wild and wholly absurd, " he said, without however looking atJames Douglas; "our cousin Gilles is in ill odour with the commonalty. He is a philosopher and makes smells with bottles. But there isneither harm nor witchcraft in it. He is only trying to discover theelixir of life. So the silly folk think him a wizard. I know himbetter. He is a brave soldier and my good cousin. I will not have himmolested. " "My lord speaks of kinship, " grated the voice of Pierre de l'Hopital. "Here are the names of four hundred fathers and mothers who have alsoa claim to be heard on that subject, and whose voices, if I judgeright, are being heard at this moment around the Castles of Machecoul, Tiffauges, Champtocé, and Pouzages. I wot there is now a crowd of athousand men pouring through the passages of the Hotel de Suze in yourGrace's own ducal city of Nantes. And if there goes a bruit abroad, that your Highness is protecting this monster whom the people hate, and the evidences of whose horrid cruelty are by this time in theirhands--well, your Grace knows the Bretons as well as I. They willmake one end of Gilles de Retz and of his cousin John, Duke ofBrittany. " "Think you so--think you so truly, Pierre?" cried the unhappy reigningprince; "I would not screen him if this be true. But the King--what ofthe King? They say he hath promised him support with arms and men forrecovering to him and to Louis the Dauphin the Duchy of Touraine. " "And think you, my lord, that the Dauphin will keep his promise, if weshow him good cause why he should fare better by breaking it?"suggested Pierre de l'Hopital, with the grim irony which had becomehabitual to him. John of Brittany paused irresolute. "Besides which, " continued James Douglas, "I may add that this paperis already in the hands of the Cardinal Bishop of Nantes, and if yourGrace will not move in the matter, his Eminence has promised to seejustice done. " "The hireling--the popular mouther after favour! I know him, " criedDuke John, angrily. "What accursed demon sent you to him? In this, asin other matters, he will strive to oust me from the hearts of thefolk of Brittany. He will be the people's advocate and will gain greathonour from this trial, will he? We shall see. Ho! guards there! Turnout. Summon those that are asleep. Let the full muster be called. Iwill lead you to Machecoul myself. And these gentlemen shall marchwith us. But by Heaven and the bones of Saint Anne of Auray, if in onejot they shall fail to substantiate against Gilles de Retz thosethings which they have testified, they shall die by the rack, and bythe cord, and by disembowelling, and by fire. So swear I, Duke Johnof Brittany. " "It is good, " said James Douglas. And "It is good, " accorded alsoMalise and Sholto MacKim. "But before any dies in Brittany, Gilles de Retz or another, _I_ willjudge the case, " commented Pierre de l'Hopital, President of Justiceand Grand Councillor of the reigning sovereign. CHAPTER LVII THE TOWER OF DEATH Throughout La Vendée and all the country of Retz had run a terriblerumour. "The Marshal de Retz is the murderer of our children. He has athousand bodies in the vaults of his castles. The Duke of Brittany hasgiven orders that they shall be searched. His soldiers are forsakinghim. The names of the dead have been written in black and white, andare in the hands of the headmen of the villages. Hasten--it is thehour of vengeance! Let us overwhelm him! Rise up and let us seek ourlost ones, even if we find no more than their bones!" And terrible as had been the gathering of the were-wolves in the darkforests around Machecoul upon the night of the fight by the hollowtree, far more threatening and terrible was the uprising of the angrycommons. In whole villages there was not a man left, and mothers too marched inthat muster armed with choppers and kitchen knives, wild eyed andangry hearted as lionesses robbed of their cubs. From the deep glensand deeper woods of the country of Retz they poured. They disgorgedfrom the caves of the earth whither the greed and rapacity of theirterrible lord had driven them. Schoolmasters were there with the elder of their pupils. For many ofthe vanished children had disappeared on their way to school, andthese men were in danger of losing both their credit and occupation. Towards Tiffauges, Champtocé, Machecoul, the angry populace, longrepressed, surged tumultuously, and with them, much wondering at theirorders, went the soldiers of the Duke. But it is with the columns that concentrated upon Machecoul that wehave chiefly to do. Our three Scots accompanied these, and here, too, marched John of Brittany himself with his Councillor Pierre del'Hopital by his side. Night fell as they journeyed on, ever joined by fresh contingents fromall the country round. In the van pressed forward the folk of SaintPhilbert, warm from the utter destruction of the house of the witchwoman, La Meffraye, so that not one stone was left upon another. Guided by these the Duke and his party made their way easily throughthe forest, even in the darkness of the night. And as they passedhamlet or cottage ever and anon some frenzied mother would rush uponthem and fall on her knees before the Duke, praying him to look wellfor her darling, and bringing mayhap some pitiful shred of clothing orlock of hair by which the searchers might identify the lost innocent. As they went forward the soldiers pricked on ahead, and caused thepeople to fall to the rear, lest any foreknowledge of their purposemight reach the wizard and warn him to escape. The woods of Machecoul were dark and silent that night. Not the howlof a questing wolf was heard. Truly the marshal's demons had forsakenhim, or mayhap they were all busy at that last carnival in the keepof the Castle of Machecoul. As the storming party approached nearer, and while yet they wereseveral miles distant, they became aware of a great red light thatgleamed forth above them. They could not see whence it came, but thepeasants of Saint Philbert with affrighted glances told how itbeaconed only after the disappearance of some little one from theirhomes, what strange cries were heard ringing out from that loftytower, and how for days after the smoke of a great burning would hangabout the gloomy turrets of devil-haunted Machecoul. Fiercer and ever fiercer shone the red glare, and the faces of thesoldiers were lit up so that Pierre de l'Hopital ordered them to keepto the more gloomy arcades of the forest. Then by midnight the cordon was drawn so closely that none might passin or out. And behind the soldiery the common folk lay crouched, angerin their hearts, and their eyes turned towards the open windows in thekeep of Machecoul, from which flared the red light of bale. Then, covering their lanterns, the three Scots, with Duke John, Pierrede l'Hopital, and a score of officers, stole silently towards thetower by which the Lady Sybilla had promised that an entrance shouldbe gained to the Castle of Machecoul. It was situated at the western corner towards the south, and wasjoined to its fellows at the corresponding angles of the fortress bygalleried walls of great height. Ten feet above the ground was alittle door of embossed iron, but ordinarily no steps led to it whenthe castle was in a state of defence. Yet when Sholto adventured intothe angle of the wall, he stumbled upon a ladder that leaned againstthe little landing-ledge, above which was the entrance denoted on theplan. Sholto ascended first, being the lightest and most agile of all. As hehad expected, he found the door unlocked and a narrow passage leadingwithin the tower. He lay a moment and listened, and then, beingcertain there was a light and the sounds of labour within, he crawledback to the ladder head, and whispered to the Lord James an order fortotal silence. Whereupon, Sholto holding the ladder at the top, Duke John and hisCouncillor mounted like shadows, and with Malise and James Douglas toguard them they were presently crouched in the passage with the doorshut behind them, and the officers keeping watch at the foot of thetower without. These five listened to the sounds of busy picks within the tower. Theycould hear the ring of iron on stones and the panting of men engagedin severe toil. "The marshal is preparing for flight, " whispered the Duke, exultantly. "He is interring his treasures. He has been warned. But we will beoverspeedy for him. " And he chuckled in his satisfaction so loudly that Malise, using noceremony with Duke or varlet at such a season, put his hand over hismouth. Then one by one they crawled along the narrow passage on their handsand knees, and presently from a little balcony, plastered like aswallow's nest on the inner wall of the tower, they found themselveslooking down upon a strange scene. A flight of steps led slantwise to the bottom, and at the foot of thetower, stripped to the waist, they beheld two men busily filling greatsacks with a curious cargo. The turret had never been finished. It contained nothing whateverexcept the staircase. So far as Sholto could see there was not even awindow anywhere. The door by which they had entered and another whichevidently led into the interior of the castle were its only outlets. The earth at the bottom had remained as it had been left by thebuilders, who surely must have thought that no madder architecturalfreak was ever planned than this shut tower of the Castle of Machecoulwith its blank walls and sordid accoutrement. But most strange of all, the original earth had been covered to thedepth of a foot or more with dark objects, the true significance ofwhich did not appear from the distance of the little gallery where theparty of five had stationed themselves. The two men at work below had brought torches with them, which werefastened to the walls by iron spikes. The smoke from these hung inheavy masses about the tower, still further diminishing the clearnesswith which the watchers aloft could observe what went on below. One of the workmen was tall and spare, with the forward thrust of headand neck seen in vultures and other unclean birds. The other, who heldthe sacks while his companion shovelled, was on the contrary stout andshort, of a notably jovial, rubicund countenance, in habit like thehostler of an inn, or perhaps a well-to-do carrier upon the roads. The two worked without speaking, as if the task were distasteful. Whenone sack was full, both would seize their picks and dig furiously atthe floor of the tower. Then when they had enough loosened, theywould fall to shovelling the curiously shaped objects into the sacksagain. As Sholto looked down he heard a hissing whisper at his ear. "These be Blanchet the sorcerer and Robin Romulart. But last week theytook notice of my little Jean and praised him for a noble boy. " Sholto turned round, and there at his elbow, having followed them inspite of all orders and precautions, he discerned the woodman LouisVerger, whose little son had been carried off by the grey she-wolf. Sholto motioned him back, and at a sign from the Duke, his father andhe began to descend. So silently did they make their way down thestone steps, and so intent were the men upon their work, that in aminute after leaving the little gallery Malise stood behind the tallerand Sholto stole like a shadow along the wall nearer to the littlerotund man who had been called Robin Romulart. The Duke held up his hand. Sholto and Malise each took their man aboutthe throat with their left arms and pulled them backward, at the sametime covering their mouths with their right hands. Blanchet nevermoved in the strong arms of Malise. But Robin, whose rotund figureconcealed his great muscular development, might have escaped fromSholto had not the woodman Verger flung himself at the little man'sthroat and brought him to the ground. Then the Duke and the othersdescended, and as they did so they became conscious of a chokingmephitic vapour which clung dank and heavy to the lower courses of thetower. Suddenly a wild cry made all shiver. It came from Louis Verger, whohad sprung upon something that lay tossed aside in a corner. "Silence, man--on your life! Silence!" hissed Pierre de l'Hopital. "Whatever you have found, think only of revenge and help us to it!" "I have found him. He is dead! The fiends! The fiends!" sobbed LouisVerger, covering a small partially charred object with the curtmantleof which he had rapidly divested himself for the purpose. Then it came upon those who stood on the floor of the tower that theywere in the marshal's main charnel-house. These vague forms, mostlycharred like half-burned wood, these scraps of white bone, theselittle crushed skulls, were all that remained of the innocent childrenwho, in the freshness of their youth and beauty, had been seduced intothe fatal Castle of Machecoul. And what wonder that an appalling terror sat on the heart and masteredthe soul of Sholto MacKim. For how did he know that he was nottreading under foot at each step the calcined fragments of the fairbody of Maud Lindesay? Twenty sacks had been filled ready for transport, and as many more layfolded and empty in a heap in a corner. The marshal, uneasy perhaps asto the suspicions against him, and anxious to remove evidence from theprecincts of his castle, had ordered this Tower of Death to becleared. But truly his devil had once more forsaken him. The order hadbeen given a day too late. "God's grace, I stifle. Let us get out of this, and seize themurderer, " quoth Duke John, making his way towards the door. "Wait a moment, " said Pierre de l'Hopital, "we must consider. Wecannot let the commons see this or they will sack the castle fromfoundation to roof tree, and slay the innocent with the guilty. Wemust seize and hold for fair trial all who are found within. _And I, Pierre de l'Hopital, will try them!_" "What then do you propose?" said the Duke, getting as near the door aspossible. "Let us bring in hither the officers and what soldiers you cantrust--that is not my business, " answered the President. "Then we willgo through the castle, and after we have secured the prisoners andmade sure of sufficient pieces of justificative evidence, of which wehave infinite supply in these sacks, we may e'en permit the people towork their will. " As it was Sholto who had first entered, so it was Sholto who firstleft the Tower of Death. He it was also who, at the head of a strongband, surprised the marshal's sleepy inner guard, and helped to bindthem with his own hands. It was Sholto who, at the foot of the stairsof the great keep, stood listening that he might know the right momentto lead the besiegers upward. But even as he stood thus, down the stairway there came pealing aterrible cry, the shriek of a woman in the final agony, shrill, desperate, unavailing. And at the sound Sholto flew up the stone steps in the direction ofthe cry, not knowing what he did, save that he went to kill. And scarce a foot behind him followed the woodman, Louis Verger, andas they fled upward the red gloom grew brighter till they seemed to berushing headlong into a furnace mouth. CHAPTER LVIII THE WHITE TOWER OF MACHECOUL So at the command of the Marshal de Retz they sent to bring forthMargaret of Douglas and Maud Lindesay out of the White Tower, wherethey had been abiding. Margaret had gone to bed, and, as was hercustom, Maud Lindesay sat awhile by her side. For so far as they couldthey kept to the good and kindly traditions of Castle Thrieve. Itseemed somehow to bring them nearer home in that horrible place wherethey were doomed to abide. "Give me your hand, Maud, and tell on, " said little Margaret, nestlingcloser to her friend, and laying her head against her arm as sheleaned on the low bedstead beside her. Margaret was gowned in a white linen night-rail, made long ago for themarshal's daughter, little Marie de Retz, in the brighter days beforethe setting up of the iron altar. Catherine, his deserted wife, hadbeen kind to the girls at Pouzages, and had given to both of them sucharticles of garmenture as they were sorely in need of. "Tell on--haste you, " commanded little Margaret, with theimperiousness of loving childhood, nestling yet closer as she spoke. "It helps me to forget. I can almost think when you are speaking thatwe are again at Thrieve, and that if we looked out at the window weshould see the Dee running by and Screet and Ben Gairn--and hearSholto MacKim drilling his men out in the courtyard. Why, Maudie, whatis the matter? I did not mean to make you cry. But it is all so sweetto think upon in this place. Oh, Maudie, Maudie, what would you giveto hear a whaup whistle?" Then drawing herself into a sitting posture, with her hands aboutMaud's neck, she took a kerchief from under the pillow and dried herfriend's tears, murmuring the while, "Ah, do not cry, Maud, my visionwill yet come true, and you shall indeed see Ben Gairn andThrieve--and everything. I was dreaming about it last night. Shall Itell you about it, sweet Maud?" Maud Lindesay did not reply, not having recovered power over hervoice. So the little Maid of Galloway went on unbidden. "Yes, I dreamed a glad dream yester-even. Shall I tell it you all andall? I will--though you can tell stories far better than I. "Methought that I and you--I mean, dear Maud, you and I, were sittingtogether in the gloaming at the door of a little house up on the edgesof the moorland, where the heather is prettiest, and reddest, andlongest. And we were happy. We were waiting for some one. I shall nottell you who, Maudie, but if you are good, and stop crying, you canguess. And there was a ring on your finger, Maud. No, not like the oldones--not a pretty ring like those in your box, yet you loved it morethan them all, and never stopped turning it about between your fingerand thumb. "They had let me come up to stay with you, and the men who hadaccompanied me were drinking in the clachan. As we sat I seemed tohear their loud chorus, sounding up from the change-house. "And you listened and said: 'I wish he would come. He is very long. Itis always long when he is away. ' But you never said who it was thatwas long away. And I shall not tell you, though I know. Perhaps it wasold Jock Lacklands, who used to be captain of the guard, and perhapsgrouting Peter, from the gate-house by the ford. But somehow I do notthink so. Ah, that is better! Now do not cry again. But listen, else Iwill not tell you any more, but go off to sleep instead. "Perhaps you do not want to hear the rest. Yet--it was such a prettydream, and of good omen. "You _do_ want to hear? Well, then, be good! "As we sat there we could hear the bumblebees scurrying home, andevery now and then one of the big boom-beetles would sail whirringpast us. We could hear the sheep crying below in the little greenmeadows so lonesomely, and the snipe bleating an answer away up in thesky above their heads, and you said, '_It is all so empty, wantinghim!_' "Then the maids brought in the cows, and milked them standing at thegable end, and we could smell the smell of their breath, sweet likethe scent of the flowers they had been eating all day long. Then, after a while, they were driven out of the yard again, and went in astring, one after the other, back to their pastures, doucely andsedately, just like folk going to holy kirk on Sabbath days when it issummer time in Galloway. "Then you said, 'I am weary of waiting for him!' And I answered, 'Why, --he has not been gone more than a day. Sometimes I do not seehim for weeks, and _I_ never fret like that!' "Then you answered (it has all come so clear into my mind), 'Some dayyou will know, little one!' And you patted me on the head, and went tothe house end to look into the sunset. You looked many minutes underyour hand, and when you came back you said, as if you had never saidit before, 'He is long a-coming! I wonder what can be keeping him. ' "Then the maidens told us that the supper was ready to put on thetable, whereat you scolded them, telling them that it was too early, and that they must keep it hot against their master's coming. And tome you said, 'You are not hungry, are you?' And I answered, 'No, 'though I was indeed very hungry--(in my dream, that is). Then you saidagain, sighing: 'It is strange that he should not come home! I cannoteat till he comes! Perhaps he has fallen into a ditch, or some eaglemay have pecked out his eyes!' "Then all the while it grew darker, and still no one came. Whereat youcried a little softly, and said: 'He might have come--I know rightwell he could have been here by this time if he had tried. But he doesnot love me any more. ' And you were patting the ground with your footas you used to do when--well, when he went away from Thrieve withoutcoming out upon the leads to say 'Good-night. ' Then, all at once, there was a noise of quick feet brushing eagerly through the heather, and some one (no, not Landless Jock) leaped the wall and caughtme--_me_--in his arms. " "No, it was not you whom he caught in his arms!" cried Maud Lindesay, indignantly, and then stopped, abashed at her own folly. But thelittle maid laughed merrily. "Aha!" she said, "_I_ caught you that time in my trap. You know who itwas in my dream, though I have never told you, nor so much as hinted. "And he asked if you had missed him, and you made a sign for me not tospeak, just as you used to do at Castle Thrieve, and answered, 'No, not a little bit! Margaret and I were quite happy. We hoped you wouldnot come back at all this night, for then we could have slepttogether. '" Maud Lindesay drew a long, soft breath, and looked out of the windowof the White Tower into the dark. "That is a sweet dream, " she murmured. "Ah, would that it were true, and that Sholto--!" She broke off short again, for the maid clapped her hands gleefully. "You said it! You said it!" she cried. "You called him Sholto. Now Iknow; and I am so glad, for he is nearly as good to play with as you. And I shall not mind him a bit. " Little Margaret stopped short in her turn, seeing something in herfriend's face. "Why are you suddenly grown so sad, Maudie?" she asked. "It came upon me, dear Margaret, " said Maud, "how that we are but twohelpless maids in a dreadful place without a friend. Let us say aprayer to God to keep us!" Then Margaret Douglas turned and knelt with her face to the pillow andher small hands clasped in front of her. "Give me your silver cross, " she said, "I lent the little gold onethat was William's to the Lady Sybilla, and she hath not returned itme again. " Maud gave her the cross and she took it and held it in the palm of herhand looking long at it. Then she repeated one by one the children'sorisons she had been taught, and after that she made a little prayerof her own. This is the prayer. "Lord of mercy, be good to two maids who are lonely and weak, and shutup in this place of evil men. Keep our lives and our souls, and alsoour bodies from harm. Make us not afraid of the dark or of the devil. For Thou art the stronger. And do not forget to be near us this night, for we have no other friend and sorely do we need one to love anddeliver us. Amen. " It was true. More bitterly than any two in the whole world, thesemaidens needed a friend at that moment. For scarcely had the childishaccents been lost in the night silence, when the outer door of theWhite Tower was thrown open to the wall, and on the steps of theturret stair they heard the noise of men coming upwards to theirprison-room. But first, though the inner door of their chamber was locked within, the bolts glided back apparently of their own accord. It opened, andthe hideous face of La Meffraye looked in upon them with a cackle offiendish laughter. "Come, sweet maidens, " she cried gleefully, as the frightened girlsclasped each other closer upon the bed, "come away. The Marshal deRetz calls for you. He hath need of your beauty to grace his feast. The lights of the banquet burn in his hall. See the fire of burningshine out upon the night. The very trees are red with it. The skiesare red. All is red. Come--up--make yourselves fair for the eyes ofthe great lord to behold!" Then behind La Meffraye entered Gilles de Sillé and Poitou, themarshal's servants. "Make ready in haste--you are both to go instantly before my lord, whoabides your coming!" said Gilles de Sillé. "Poitou and I will abidewithout the door, and La Meffraye here shall be your tirewoman and seethat you have that which you need. But hasten, for my lord is instantand cannot be kept waiting!" * * * * * So they brought the Scottish maidens down from the White Tower intothe night. They walked hand in hand. Their steps did not falter, and, as they went, they prayed to God to keep them from the dangers of theplace. Astarte, the she-wolf, who must have kept guard beneath, stalked before them, and behind them they seemed to hear the hobblingcrutch and cackling laughter of La Meffraye. Across the wide courtyard of Machecoul they went. It also was filledwith the reflection of the red tide of light which ebbed and flowed, waxing and waning above. Saving for that window the whole castle waswrapped in gloom and silence, and if there were any awake within theprecincts they knew better than to spy upon the midnight doings oftheir dread lord. The little party passed up the great staircase of the keep andpresently halted before the inscribed wooden door by which Laurencehad entered the Temple of Evil. As Gilles de Sillé opened it for the maids to precede him, the skirtof Maud Lindesay's robe, blown back by the draught of the chamber, fluttered against the cheek of Laurence MacKim as he lay on his facein the niche of the wall. At the light touch he came to himself, andlooked about with a strange and instant change in all the affectionsand movements of his heart. With the coming in of the maidens, fear seemed utterly to forsake him. A clarity of purpose, an alertness of brain, a strength of heartunknown before, took the place of the trembling bath of horror inwhich he had swooned away. It was like the sudden appearance of two white angels walking fearlessand unscathed through the grim dominions of the Lords of Hell. Incarnate Good had somehow entered the house of the Demon, though itwas in the slender periphery of two maidens' bodies, and evil, strongand resistless before, seemed in the moment to lose half its power. [Illustration: IT WAS LIKE THE SUDDEN APPEARANCE OF TWO WHITE ANGELSWALKING FEARLESS AND UNSCATHED THROUGH THE GRIM DOMINIONS OF THE LORDSOF HELL. ] CHAPTER LIX THE LAST SACRIFICE TO BARRAN-SATHANAS And as Laurence MacKim, crouched in the dim obscurity of the curtaineddoorway, looked forth, this is what he saw. Maud Lindesay and Margaret Douglas advanced into the centre of thetemple where was a slab of white marble let into the floor. As if byinstinct the two maids stopped upon it, standing hand in hand beforethe iron altar and the vast shadowy image which gloomed above andappeared to reach forward in act to clutch them. After the first checkin his hideous incantations, Gilles de Retz had returned to his ownchamber, in which, after his entrance, the light gleamed brighter andmore fiercely red than ever. As the maidens stood on the marble squareLa Meffraye went to the door and called certain words within, conveying some message which Laurence could not hear. Then with an assured carriage and haughty stride came forth themarshal, his grey hair and blue-black beard in strong contrast withhis haggard corpse-pale face, from which the momentary glow of youthhalf-restored had already faded, as fades a footprint upon wet sand. Gilles de Sillé and Poitou bowed silently before him as men who havedone their commission, and who retire to await further orders. But LaMeffraye, once more apparent, stood her ground. "Here are the dainty maids from the far land; no beggars' brats arethey. No strays and pickings from the streets. No, nor yet sillyvillage innocents who follow La Meffraye from the play-fields throughthe woodlands to the Paradise of our Lord Gilles! Hasten not the joy!Let these pearls of youth and beauteousness die indeed, but let themdie slowly and deliciously. And in the last blood of an ancient racelet our master bathe and find the new life he seeks. Hear us, OBarran-Sathanas, and grant our prayer!" Then La Meffraye approached the maids and would have touched the dressof the little Margaret, as if to order it more daintily for thepleasing of her master's eye. But Maud Lindesay thrust her aside likean unclean thing. Whereat La Meffraye laughed till her rusty black cloak quivered andrustled from hood to hem. "Ah, my proud lady, " she croaked, "in a little, in a very little, youtoo will be calling upon La Meffraye to save you, to pity you. But I, La Meffraye, will gloat over each drop of blood that distils from yourfair neck. Aha, you shall change your tone when at the whitethroat-apple which your sweetheart would have loved to kiss, you feelthe bite of the sharp slow knife. Then you will not thrust aside LaMeffraye. Then you shall cry and none shall pity. Then she will spurnyou from her knees. " "Out!" said Gilles de Retz, briefly, and like some inferior impingdevilkin before the great Master of Evil, La Meffraye retreatedhobbling to the doorway of the marshal's chamber, where she crouchednodding and chuckling, mumbling inaudible words, and mingling themever with her dry cackling laughter. Gilles de Retz stopped at the corner of the platform and looked longat Maud and Margaret where they stood on the great central square ofmarble. It was the Maid who spoke first. "Dear Messire, " she said sweetly and almost confidently, "you have alittle girl of your own. I know, for I have played with her. I loveher. Therefore you will not hurt us. I am sure you will not hurt us. You are going to send us back in a ship to our own country, because itis lonely here where Maud and I know no one!" The marshal smiled upon her his inhuman inscrutable smile. He leanedagainst a pillar of strangely twisted design, and contemplated the twovictims at his ease. "Life is sweet to you, is it not?" he said at last; "you are trulyhappy, being young, and so have no need to be made young again. " "Oh, but I am very old, " cried the Maid, gaining some confidence fromthe quiet of his voice, "I am nearly eight years old. And our Maudiehere, she is--oh, a dreadful age! She is very, very old!" "You would not like to die?" suggested Gilles de Retz, with a certainsoft insinuation. "Oh, no, " said Margaret Douglas, "I am going to live long andlong--till every one in the world loves me. I am going to help everyone to get what he most desires. And you know I can, for I shall bevery rich. And if what they say is true, and I am Princess ofGalloway, I shall marry and be a very great lady. But I shall nevermarry any one who is not a Douglas. " The marshal nodded. "I do not think that you shall marry any one who is not a Douglas!" hesaid, with a certain grave and not discourteous irony in his tones. "Yes, " the little Maid went on. She had lost all fear in the very actof speech. "Yes, and Maud, she is going to marry Sholto--and they willbe very happy, for they love each other so. I know it, for she told meto-night just before you sent for us to come to your feast. That waskind of you to remember us, though it was past bed-time. But now, goodmarshal, you will send us back, will you not? Now, look kind to-night. You will be glad afterwards that you were good to two maids who neverharmed you, but are ready to love you if you prove kind to them. " "Hush, Margaret, " said Maud Lindesay. "It is useless to speak suchwords to such a man. " The Marshal de Retz turned sharply to her. "Ah, " he said, with a curious bite in his speech, "then, my younglady, you would not love me, even if I were to let you go!" "I should hate and abominate you for ever and ever, even if you helpedme into Paradise!" quoth Maud Lindesay, giving him defiance in a fulleye-volley. "So, " he said calmly, "I am indeed likely to help you into Paradisethis very night. That is, unless Saint Peter of the Keys makes up hismind that so outspoken and tricksome a maid had best take a fewthousand years of purgatory--as it were on her way upwards, _enpassant_. " A sudden lowering passion at this point altered his countenance. "No, " he thundered, standing up erect from the pillar against whichhe had been leaning, and his whole voice and bearing changing pastdescription, "it is enough--listen! I will be brief with you. I havebrought both of you here that you may die. I cannot expect of you thatyou will understand or appreciate my motives, which are indeed abovethe knowledge of children. This is a temple to a Great God, and hedemands the sacrifice of the noblest and most innocent blood. I do youthe honour to believe that it is here to my hand. Also, your deathswill cause a number of people both in Scotland and elsewhere to siteasier in their seats. Lastly, I had sworn that you should die if yourfriends from Scotland came to trouble me. They have come, and Gillesde Retz keeps his word--as doth the Master whom he serveth!" He bowed in the direction of the vast shadowy figure, which toLaurence's eye appeared to turn towards his niche with a leer, as ifto say, "Listen to him. What a fool he is!" The maids stood silent, not comprehending aught save that they were todie. Then suddenly Gilles de Retz cried out in his loudest militarytones--"Henriet, Poitou, De Sillé, bind these maidens upon the ironaltar, that Barran-Sathanas may feed his eyes on their beauty andrejoice!" And as they stood motionless upon the square of white marble, theservitors came forward and led them to the great altar of iron. Theylifted the maidens up and laid their bodies crosswise upon the vastgrid, the bars of which were as thick as a man's arm, arranging themso that their heads hung without support over the bar next the shadowyimage. As they bound them rudely hand and foot, the long and beautiful hairof Maud Lindesay escaped from its fastenings and fell down till itreached the bath of red porphyry which extended underneath the wholelength of the altar of iron. Then through all the Temple of Evil there ensued sudden silence. Not asob or a moan escaped from the doomed maidens, and the feet of theassistants fell silent and soft as the paws of wild beasts upon theebon floor. Gilles de Retz waited till his acolytes had retired to their appointedplaces, where they stood like carven statues watching what shouldhappen. Then slowly and deliberately he ascended to the broad platformfrom which the iron altar rose, and stood with his arms folded overhis flame-coloured robe, looking gloatingly down, upon his innocentvictims. Maud Lindesay was the nearer to him, and her unbound hairfell back and touched the peak of his pointed shoe of crimson Cordovanleather. With a quick movement he caught up a handful of its rich luxurianceand allowed it to run through his fingers like sand again and yetagain, with apparent delight in the sensation. Even as he did so the dim figure of the horned demon above appeared tolean forward as if to touch him, and with a rushing noise the greathour-glass set upon a pedestal at the foot of the image turned itselfcompletely over. Gilles with a startled air turned also, and seeingwhat it was he laughed a strange hollow laugh. "It is indeed the hour, the hour of doom, fair maids, " he said, looking down upon them as deferentially as if he had been paying hiscourt in the great hall of Thrieve, "but it shall not pass withouttaking with it your souls to another, and I trust a higher, sphere!" He paused, but no complaint or appeal reached his cruel and inexorableear. The certain graciousness of Providence to those in extreme perilseemed to have blunted the edge of fear in the innocent victims. Theylay still and apparently without consciousness upon the iron altar. The red glow played upon their faces, shining through from the innerchamber, and the figure of the marshal stood out black against it. On the floor lay the goblet from which he had drunk the Red Milk. "Give me the knife!" he cried, sudden as a trumpet that is blown. And reaching a withered hand within the marshal's chamber as if todetach something from the wall, La Meffraye hobbled quickly across thealtar platform, bearing in her hand a shining weapon of steel, broadof blade and curved at the point. She placed the ebony handle in themarshal's hand, who weighed it lovingly in his grasp. Then for the first time since the men had bound her, the sweetchildish eyes of little Margaret were unclosed and looked up at Gillesde Retz with the touching wonder of helplessness and innocence. At that moment the image appeared to Laurence to beckon to him out ofthe gloom. A quick and nervous resolve ran through his veins. Hismuscles became like steel within his flesh. He rose to his feet, and, without pause for thought, rushed across the chapel from the nichewhere he had been hidden. "Murderer! Fiend! I will kill you!" he cried, and with his dagger barein his hand he would have thrown himself upon the marshal. But swifterthan the rush of the young man in his strength there came another fromthe door of the inner chamber. With a deep-throated roar of wholly bestial fury, Astarte the she-wolfsprang upon Laurence, and, though he sank his dagger twice to the hiltin her hairy chest, she over-bore him and they fell to the ground withher teeth gripping his shoulder. Laurence felt the hot life-blood ofthe beast spurt forth and mingle with his own. Then a flood ofswirling waters seemed to bear him suddenly away into the unknown. * * * * * When Laurence MacKim came to himself he emerged into a chill world inwhich he felt somehow infinitely lonely and forsaken. Next he grewslowly conscious that his feet and arms were bound tightly with cordsthat cut painfully into the flesh. Then he realised that he, too, hadtaken his place beside the maids upon the altar of iron. Strangelyenough he did not feel afraid nor even wish himself elsewhere. He onlywondered what would happen next. He opened his eyes and lo! they looked directly into the leeringcountenance of the monstrous image. Yet there seemed somethingcuriously encouraging and even beneficent about the aspect of thedemon. But so often as Gilles de Retz passed the triple array of hisvictims with his back to the image, the regard of the sculptured devilfollowed him, grim and mocking. Words of angry altercation came to the ears of Laurence MacKim. "I tell you, " cried the voice of Gilles de Retz, "I will not sparethem. Well nigh had I succeeded. Almost I was young again. I wastasting the first sweetness of knowledge wide as that of the gods. Ifelt the new life stirring within me. But I had not enough of theblood of innocence, which is the only worthy libation toBarran-Sathanas, who alone can bestow youth and life. " Then the Lady Sybilla answered him. "I pray you, Gilles de Retz, asyou hope for mercy, slay not these maidens and this youth. Take me, and bind me, instead, for the sacrifice of death. I have wroughtenough of evil! Take of my blood and work out your purpose. Let megive you the libation you desire. Gilles de Retz, if ever I have aidedyou, grant me this boon now. I beseech you, let these innocents go, and bind me upon the altar in their places. " Long and loud laughed Gilles de Retz, a hard, evil, and relentlesslaugh. "Sybilla de Thouars an innocent maiden's sacrifice! Barran-Sathanashimself laughs at the jest. He would have no pleasure in your death. Soul and body you are his already. He desires only the blood andsuffering of the innocent--of those on whom he has never set his mark. Nay, these three shall surely die, and in that bath of porphyryhollowed out under his altar I will lave me from head to foot in theRed Milk of innocence. I have no more need of you, Sybilla mine. Youhave done your work, and for your reward you can now depart to yourown place. Out of my way, I say. Henriet, Poitou, quick! Remove thiswoman from before the altar!" Then, struggling strongly in their hands, the servitors carried theLady Sybilla to the farther end of the chapel, where they abode oneither side, holding her fast. And as the last grains of sand began toswirl towards their fall and a little whirlpool to form funnel-wise inthe midst of the hour-glass, the butcher was left alone with hisvictims upon the platform of the iron altar. Gilles de Retz turned towards the image, and, lifting up his handsolemnly, he cried in a great voice, "O Barran-Sathanas, be pleased tobehold this innocent blood spilled slowly in thine honour. As the redfount flows and the red fire burns, restore my youth and make mestrong. Faithfully will I serve thee and thee alone, renouncing allother. O Barran-Sathanas, great and only Lord, receive my sacrifice. It is the hour!" And so saying he laid hold of Maud Lindesay by the hair, and raisedthe curved knife on high. Then from the end of the chapel to which the Lady Sybilla had beentaken there came a sound. With a great despairing effort she burstfrom her captors' hands and ran forward. She knelt down on the marbleslab whereon the maids had stood at their first entering, and as sheknelt she held aloft a golden crucifix. "If there be a God in heaven, let him manifest himself now!" shecried, "by the virtue of this cross of His son Jesus Christ, I callupon Him!" Then suddenly all the place was filled with a mighty rushing noise. The last grains ran low in the hour-glass. It shifted in its stand andturned over. A tremor like that of an earthquake shook all the castleto its foundations. The solid keep itself rocked like a vessel in astormy sea. The great image overturned, and by its fall Gilles deRetz was stricken senseless to the earth. The next moment, likeflood-gates burst by a mighty tide, the doors of the temple wereopened with a clang, and through them a crowd of armed men camerushing in with triumphant shouts and angry cries of vengeance. Sholto was far ahead of the others, and, as if led by the unerringinstinct of love, he ran to the altar whereon his love lay white asdeath, but without a mark upon her fair body. It was the work of a moment to cut their cords and chafe the numbedwrists and ankles. James Douglas took the little Margaret. Sholto hadhis sweetheart in his arms, while Laurence recovered quickly enough toaid his father in securing Gilles de Retz and his servants. LaMeffraye they took not, for she lay dead within the inner chamber, where yet burned the great fire which was used to consume the bodiesof the demon's victims. Two gaping wounds were found in her breast, inthe same place in which the dagger of Laurence MacKim had smitten theshe-wolf as she sprang upon him. But Astarte, woman witch orwere-wolf, was never seen again, neither by starlight, moonlight, noryet in the eye of day. Truly of Gilles de Retz was it said, "His demonhath deserted him. " Beneath in the courts and quadrangles, swarming through the towers andclambering perilously on the roofs, surged the press of the furiouspopulace. It was all that Duke John and his officers could do to keepthe prisoners in ward, and to prevent them from being torn limb fromlimb (as had perhaps been fittest), and tossed alive into the flamingfuneral pyre of Castle Machecoul, which, lighted by a hundred hands, presently began to flame like a volcano to the skies. For the hour that comes to every evil-doer had come to Gilles de Retz. And in that hour, as it shall ever be, the devil in whom he trustedhad forsaken him. But the Lady Sybilla stood on the garden tower that in happier dayshad been her pleasaunce, and beheld. And as she watched she kissed thegolden crucifix of the child Margaret. And her heart rejoiced becausethe lives of the innocent as well as the death of the guilty had beengiven her for her portion. "And now, O Lord, I am ready to pay the price!" she said. CHAPTER LX HIS DEMON HATH DESERTED HIM The soldiers of the Duke of Brittany stood with bared swords anddeadly pikes around the Marshal de Retz and those of his servants whohad been taken--that is to say, round Poitou, Clerk Henriet, Blanquet, and Robin Romulart. About them surged ever more fiercely the angrypopulace, drunk with the hot wine of destruction, having been filledwith inconceivable fury by that which they had seen in the round towerwherein stood the filled bags of little charred remains. "Tear the wolves into gobbets! Kill them! Burn them! Send them quickto Hell!" So ran the cry. And twice and thrice the villagers of the Pays de Retz chargeddesperately as men who fight for their lives. "Stand to it, men!" cried Pierre de l'Hopital. "Gilles de Retz shallhave fair trial! "_But I shall try him!_" he added, under his breath. Never was seen such a sight as the procession which conducted Gillesde Retz to the city of Nantes. The Duke had sent for his whole band ofsoldiers, and these, in ordered companies, marched in front and rear. A triple file guarded the prisoners, and even their levelled pikescould scarce beat back the furious rushes of the populace. It was like a civil war, for the assailants struck fiercely at thesoldiers--as if in protecting him, they became accessory to the crimesof the hated marshal. "_Barbe Bleu! Barbe Bleu!_" they cried. "Slay _Barbe Bleu_! Make hisbeard blood-red. He hath dipped it often in the life-blood of ourchildren. Now we will redden it with his own!" So ran the tumult, surging and gathering and scattering. And ever thepikes of the guard flashed, and the ordered files shouldered a paththrough the press. "Make way there!" cried the provost marshals. "Make way for theprisoners of the Duke!" And as they entered the city, from behind and before, from all thewindows and roofs, rose the hoarse grunting roar of the hatred andcursing of a whole people. But the object of all this rested calm and unmoved, and his cruel greyeye had no expression in it save a certain tolerant and amusedcontempt. "Bah!" he muttered. "Would that I had slain ten millions of you! It ismy only regret that I had not the time. It is almost unworthy to diefor a few score children!" During the journey to Nantes, Gilles de Retz kept the grand reservewith which, when he came to himself, he had treated those who hadcaptured him. To the Duke only would he condescend to reply, and tohim he rather spoke as an equal unjustly treated than as a guiltyprisoner and suppliant. "For this, Sire of Brittany, " he said, "must you answer to youroverlord, the King of France, whose minister and marshal I am!" The Duke would have made some feeble reply, but Pierre de l'Hopitalcut across the conversation with that stern irony which characterisedhim. "My lord, " he said, "remember that before you were made Marshal ofFrance you were born a subject of the Duke of Brittany! And as suchyou shall be judged. " "I decline to stand at your tribunal!" said the marshal, haughtily. "_Soit!_" said the President, indifferently, "but all the same youshall be tried!" Duke John, knowing well that while his court was being held in thecapital city of his province, and especially during the trial ofGilles de Retz, Nantes was no place for young maidens who had sufferedlike Maud Lindesay and Margaret Douglas, sent them under escort to theCastle of Angers. Sholto MacKim and his father were allowed to accompany them, that theymight not be without some of their own country to speak with duringtheir sojourn in France. The Lord James, however, elected to abidewith the court. For there were many ladies there, and, having nobilityof address and desiring to perfect himself in the niceties offashionable speech (which changed daily), he had great pleasure intheir society, and rode in the lists by the side of the Loire witheven more than his former gallantry and success. For, as he said, he needed some compensation for the long abstinenceenforced upon him by his habit of holy palmer. And right amply did hemake himself amends, and was accounted by dames fair and free thelightsomest and properest Scot who had ever come into the land ofFrance. With him Laurence remained, both because his father was still angrywith him on account of his desertion of them in Paris, and alsobecause having been so long in the Castle of Machecoul, there wereimportant matters concerning which in the forthcoming trial he alonecould give evidence. Pierre de l'Hopital would have detained the Lady Sybilla as a possibleaccomplice of the Sieur de Retz, but by the intercession of theScottish maidens, as well as by the sworn evidence of Sholto and theLord James, testifying that wholly by her means Gilles de Retz hadfinally been caught red-handed, she was permitted to depart whithershe would. "I will go to my sister, " she said to Sholto, who came to know how hecould serve her. "It matters little. My work is nearly done!" So, riding as was her custom all alone upon a white palfrey, shepassed out of their sight towards the south. * * * * * In the city of Nantes the rumour of the taking of Gilles de Retz hadspread like wild-fire, and as the cavalcade rode through the streets, the windows rained down curses and the citizens hooted up from thesidewalks. But the marshal kept his haughty and disdainful regard, appearing like a noble nature who perforce companies for the noncewith meaner men. He sat his favourite charger like a true companion ofDunois and De Richemont, and, as more than one remarked, on thisoccasion he looked like the royal prince and the Duke of Brittany theprisoner. So in the New Tower of the Castle of Nantes, Gilles de Retz was placedto wait his trial. There is no need to give a long account of it. Thedocuments have been printed in plain letter, and all the world knowshow Clerk Henriet faltered under the stern questioning of Pierre del'Hopital, and how finally he declared fully all these iniquitieswithout parallel in which he had borne so cruel a part. Poitou, more faithful to his master, held out till the threat oftorture and the appeals of his friend Henriet broke him down. But theattitude and bearing of the chief culprit deserve that the historianshould not wholly pass them over. Even in his first haughty and contemptuous silence, Gilles de Retz wasshifting his ground, and with a cool unheated intelligence orientinghimself to new conditions. It soon became evident to his mind that thepowers of Evil in which he trusted, and to whose service he hadconsecrated his life and fortune, had befooled and betrayed him. Well--even so would he fool them--if, by the grace of God, there wereyet any merit or hope in the service of Good. The priests said so. TheScripture said so, and they might be right after all. At least, thething was worth trying. For a cold and calculating brain lay behind the worst excesses of theterrible Lord de Retz. The religion of the Cross might not be of muchfinal use--still, it was all that remained, and Gilles de Retzdetermined to avail himself of it. So once more he apostasised fromBarran-Sathanas to Jehovah. With an effrontery almost too stupendous for belief, he arrayedhimself in the white robes of a Carmelite novice and spent his prisondays in singing litanies and in private confession with his religiousadviser. When the great day of the trial at last arrived, the marshal, who hadexpected on the bench the weak kindly countenance of Duke John, wascalled upon to confront the indomitable judicial rectitude of Pierrede l'Hopital, President and Grand-Seneschal of Brittany. Gilles de Retz appeared at his trial dressed in white of the richestmaterials and with all his military decorations upon him. But hisjudge, habited in stern and simple black, was not in the leastintimidated. Then came the great surprise. After the evidence of Henriet and Poitouhad been read to him, the marshal was asked to plead. To the surpriseof all, the accused claimed benefit of clergy. "I have been a great sinner, " he said, "I have indeed deserved athousand deaths. But now I am a man of God. I have confessed. I havereceived absolution for all my sins. God has forgiven me, and my soulis cleansed!" "Good!" answered Pierre de l'Hopital, "I have nothing to do with yoursoul. I must leave that, as you very pertinently remark, to God. But Iam here to try your body, and if found guilty to condemn that body tosuffer the penalties by law provided according to the statutes ofBrittany. " Then Clerk Henriet was brought in to testify more fully of the crimesbeyond parallel in the history of mankind. The court had been hung round with black, and the only object whichappeared prominent was a beautiful ivory crucifix with a noble figureof the Redeemer of Men carved upon it. This was suspended, accordingto the custom, over the head of the President of the Tribunal. Henriet had not proceeded far with his terrible relation of well nighinconceivable crimes when he stopped. "I cannot go on, " he said, in a broken appealing voice; "I cannot tellwhat I have to tell with That Figure looking down upon me!" So, with the whole Court standing up in reverence, the image of theMost Pitiful was solemnly veiled from sight, that such deeds ofdarkness might not be so much as named in that holy and graciouspresence. And during the ceremony Friar Gilles of the order of the Carmelitesstood up more reverently than any, for now, seeing that no bettermight be, he had definitely renounced Barran-Sathanas and cast in hislot with God Almighty. * * * * * "The sentence of this court is that you, Gilles de Laval, Lord ofRetz, Marshal of France, and you, Poitou and Henriet, be carried tothe meadow of La Biesse at nine of the clock on the morning ofto-morrow, and that you be there hanged and burned till you be dead. And to God the Just One be the glory!" The voice of Pierre de l'Hopital rang out through the silence of thehall of judgment. "Amen!" said Friar Gilles, devoutly crossing himself. And so in due course on the meadow of La Biesse, by the side of theblue Loire, the evil soul of Gilles de Retz went to its own place withall the paraphernalia of repentance and in the full odour of asomewhat hectic sanctity. * * * * * The day after the burning, a little company of riders left the city ofAngers, journeying westward along the Loire. It consisted of themaidens Margaret Douglas and Maud Lindesay, with Sholto MacKim and adozen horsemen belonging to his Grace of Brittany. It had beenarranged that they were to be joined, upon an eminence above the riveron the right bank, by the Lord James, Malise, and Laurence, with theescort which was to accompany them to the port of Saint Nazaire. There(as was necessary in order to escape the troublesome navigation of theswift and treacherous upper reaches) they would find vessels ready toset sail for Scotland. As the little cloud of riders left behind them the black towers ofAngers, they passed through woodland glades wherein, in spite of thelateness of the season, the birds were singing. The air was mild anddelightsome. At last, leaving the river, they struck away inland, having the frowning towers of Champtocé on their left as they rode. Presently they came to a forest, wherein in days before the greatcruelty, Gilles de Retz had often hunted the wolf and the wild boar. Here the woodland paths were covered deep with fallen leaves, and thenaked branches spoke of the desolation of a dead year. As the maids rode forward first of their company and talked, as wasnatural, of that which had taken place the day before at Nantes, theybecame aware of the Lady Sybilla riding towards them on her palfrey ofwhite. She would have passed them without speech, with her headdowncast and her eyes fixed upon the dank ground with its coveringdrift of dead autumnal leaves. But Margaret, grateful for that which the Lady Sybilla had done forthem at Machecoul, spurred her steed and rode thwartwise to intercepther. "Sybilla, " she said, "you will come with us to Scotland. I have manycastles there, and, they tell me, a princessdom of mine own. We shallall be happy together and forget these ill times. Maud and I can neverrepay that which you have done for us. " "Yes, I pray you come with us, " said Maud, a little more slowly, "wewill be your sisters, and the ill times shall not come again. " The Lady Sybilla smiled a sad subtle smile and shook her head. "I thank you. I thank you more than you know. It eases my heart thatyou should forgive a woman such as I for all the evil she has broughtyou and yours. But I am now no fit companion for you or any. I ambecome but a wandering shape, speaking to one who cannot answer, andseeking him whom I can never find. " The little Maid, being but a child, mistook her meaning. "No, no, " she cried, "your life is not done. If the one whom you lovehath left you unkindly--well, bide awhile, and when the first smart ispassed, we will marry you to some braver and more handsome knight. There are many such in Scotland. I pray you come with Maud and me evenas we wish you. Why, there would not be three like us in all the land. I wager we will set kings by the ears between us. Though, as for me, Ican only marry a Douglas!" The smile of the Lady Sybilla grew ever sadder and ever sweeter. "The man whom I loved, and who loved me, I betrayed to the death. There is no forgiveness for such as I in this life. Perhaps there maybe in the next. At least, _he_ forgave me, and that is enough. Hebelieved in me against myself, and I will wait. Till then I go hitherand thither and none shall hinder me or molest--for upon Sybilla deThouars God hath set the seal of Cain!" Margaret Douglas flicked her steed impatiently, causing the spiritedlittle beast to curvet. "I think it is very ill-done of you not to come to Scotland with us, "she said petulantly, "when we would have been so good to you!" "Too good, too kind, " said the Lady Sybilla, very gently; "suchkindness is not for such as I am. But if I may, while I live I willkeep the golden cross you lent me--the crucifix your brother gave toyou on your birthday!" "Keep it--it is yours! I do not want it!" cried Margaret, glad to havefound some way of evidencing her gratitude. "I thank you, " said Sybilla de Thouars; "some day I may come toScotland. And if I do, you shall come out from Thrieve and meet me bythe white thorns of the Carlinwark at the hour when the littlechildren sing!" And so, without other farewell, she turned and rode slowly away downthe avenues of fallen leaves, till the folding woodlands hid her fromthe sight of those two who watched her with tear-blurred eyes andhearts strangely stirred with pity for the fate of her whom they hadonce hated with such good cause. CHAPTER LXI LEAP YEAR IN GALLOWAY Morning dawned fair over the wide strath of Dee. Cairnsmuir and BenGairn stood out south and north like blue, round-shouldered sentinels. Castle Thrieve rose grey in the midst of the water-meadows, massiveand sombre in the early sunrise. Andro the Penman and his brother John, with the taciturnity natural toearly risers, were silently hoisting the flag which denoted thepresence of the noble young chatelaine of the great fortress. Sholto also was early astir, for the affairs of the castle and of thehost were in his hand, and there was much business to be despatchedthat morning. The young Avondale Douglases were riding away fromThrieve, for word had come that James the Gross, seventh Earl ofDouglas, was surely at death's door. "Besides, " said William Douglas, "wherefore should we stay--our workis done. No one will molest our cousin in her heritages now! We fivehave stood about her while there was need. But for the present SirSholto and his men can keep count and reckoning with any from theback-shore of Leswalt to Berwick bound. " "Aye, indeed, " cried James Douglas, "we will go till the time comewhen the suitors gather, like corbies about a dead lamb!" "That is not a savoury comparison, " cried Margaret of Douglas, nowgrown older, and already giving more than a mere promise of thatwondrous beauty which afterwards made her celebrated in all lands, "but after all, you, cousin James, have some right to make it. For, but for you and our good Sholto there, this little ewe lamb would havebeen carrion indeed!" "Good-by!" cried James of Avondale. "Haste thee and grow up, sweetcoz. Then will I come back with the rest of the corbies and take mychance of the feast. I will keep myself for that day. " But William Douglas sat square and silent on his charger. The Maid of Galloway waved her hand gaily to the younger of theknights. "You shall have your chance with the rest, " she cried; "but you willnot care about me then. Very likely I may have to fleech and cozenwith you like a sweetie-wife at a fair before either of you will marryme. And you know I have sworn on the bones of Saint Bride to marrynone but a Douglas of the Douglases!" Then William Douglas saluted without a word, and turning hisbridle-rein rode away with his face steadfastly set to the north. ButJames ever cried back farewells and jovial words long after he was outof hearing. And even on the heights of Keltonmuir he still fluttered agay kerchief in his left hand. Then Margaret Douglas went back within the gates, where her eyes fellupon Maud Lindesay, coming through the castle yard to meet her. Forthat morning she had not wished to encounter Sholto--at least notamong so many. The two maidens walked on together, and which was thefairer, the black or the nut-brown, none could say who beheld them. After a while Margaret Douglas sighed. "I wonder which of them I like the best, " she said. Maud laughed a merry, scornful laugh in which was a world of superiorknowledge. "You do not like either of them very much yet, or you would have nodifficulty about the matter!" said this wise woman. "Well, I wonder which of them loves me best, " she went on; "Jamestells me of it a hundred times every day and all day. But William saysnothing. He only looks at me often, as if he disapproved of me. I amover light for him, I trow. He thinks not of me. " Then after a pause she said, again with her finger on her lip, "Iwonder which of them would do most for my sake?" "I know!" said Maud Lindesay, promptly. * * * * * With the young Avondales there had ridden forth Malise and his sonLaurence on their way to the Abbey of Dulce Cor. Sholto went also withthem to convoy them to the fords of Urr. For Laurence was to be a clerk after all. And this is the way he explained it. "The Abbot cannot live long, and there is no Douglas to succeed him. Then your little Maid will make me Abbot, if that Maud of yours doesher duty. " "She is not my Maud yet, " sighed Sholto. For, as they say in Scotland, the lady had proved "driech to draw up. " "But she will be in good time, " urged Laurence, "and she mustpersuade the Lady Margaret of my many and surprising virtues. " "The Lady Margaret hath doubtless seen these for herself. Were you notbound beside her on the iron altar?" said Sholto. "Yes, but I dirked the old witch-woman, or so they say. And that wasno clerkly action!" objected his brother. "Fear not, " said Sholto, "you have all of her favour you need withoutworking by means of another's petticoat. But how about marrying? Youcannot wed or woo if you are a clerk. You did not use to be so unfondof a lass in the gloamings along the sweet strand called the Walk ofLovers--you know where!" "Pshaw, " cried Laurence, "I never yet saw the lass I liked better thanmyself. And I never expect to see one that I shall like better thanthe fat revenues of the Abbacy of Dulce Cor!" He paused a moment as if roguishly considering some point. "Besides, " he went on, "wed I may not, but woo--that is anothermatter! I have never yet heard that an Abbot--" "Good-day!" cried Sholto, suddenly, at this point, "I will not stay tohear you blaspheme!" And leaving his father and Laurence to ride westward he turned himback towards Thrieve. "I will surely return to-morrow, " cried Malise; "I must first see thisgay bird safely in mew. Aye, and bid the Abbot William clip his wingstoo!" So in the gay morning sunshine and with the reflection of the liftglinting dark blue from tarn and lakelet, Sholto MacKim rode towardsthe Castle of Thrieve. He bethought him on all that was bygone. TheAvondales were gone, James the Gross might die any moment--might evennow be dead and William Douglas be Earl in his place! He thought over William of Avondale's last words to himself, spokenwith deep solemnity and in all the dignity of a great spirit. "Sholto, you and yours have brought to justice the chief betrayer. Thetime is at hand when, having the power, I will settle with Crichtonand Livingston, the lesser villains. And in that count and reckoningyou must be my right-hand man. Keep your Countess, the sweet youngMargaret, safe for my sake. She is very precious to me--indeed, beyondmy life. And for this time fare you well!" And he had reached a mailed hand to the captain of the Douglas guard, and when Sholto would have bent his head upon it to kiss it, Williamof Avondale gripped his suddenly as one grasps a comrade's hand whenthe heart is touched, and so was gone. At the verge of the flowery pastures that ring the isle of Thrieve, Sholto met Maud Lindesay, wandering alone. At sight of her he leapedfrom his horse, and, without salutation of spoken speech, walked byher side. "How came you here alone?" he asked. Maud made her little pouting movement of the lips, and kickedviciously at a tuft of grass. "I forgot, " she said hypocritically, "I ought to have asked leave ofthat noble knight the Captain of Thrieve. We poor maids must notbreathe without his permission--no, nor even walk out to meet him whenwe are lonesome. " Maud Lindesay lifted her eyes suddenly and shot at Sholto a glance sodisabling, that, alarmed for the consequences, she veiled her eyesagain circumspectly by dropping her long lashes upon her cheek. "Did you really come out to meet me, Maud?" cried Sholto, all the lifeflooding back into his cheeks, "in this do you speak truth and nomockery?" "I only said that we maidens were so much in fear of our CastleGovernor, that we must not walk out even to meet him!" At this Sholto let his horse go where it would, and, as they werepassing at the time through a coppice of hazel, he caught his saucysweetheart quickly by the wrist. "Mistress Maud, you shall not play with me!" he said; "you will tellme plainly--do you love me or do you not?" Maud Lindesay puckered her pretty face as if she had been about tocry. "You hurt my arm!" she said plaintively, looking up at him with thelong pathetic gaze of a gentle helpless animal undeservedly put inpain. Sholto perforce released the pressure on her arm. She instantly putboth hands behind her. "You did not hurt me at all--hear you that, Master Sholto, " she cried, "and I do not love you--not that much, Sir Noble Bully!" And she snapped her finger and thumb like a flash beneath his nose. "Not that much!" she repeated viciously, and did it again. Sholtoturned away sternly. "You are nothing but a silly girl, and not worthy that any true manshould either love or marry you!" he said, walking off in thedirection of the castle. Maud Lindesay looked after him a moment as if not believing her eyesand ears. Then, so soon as she made sure that he was indeed not comingback, she tripped quickly after him. He was taking long strides, andit required a series of small hops and skips to keep up with him. "Not really, Sholto?" she said beseechingly, almost running beside himnow. He walked so fast. "Yes, madam, really!" said that young knight, still more sternly. She took a little run to get a step in front of him, so that she mightadvantageously look up into his face. "Then you will not marry me, Sholto?" Her hands were clasped with the sweetest petitionary grace. "_No!_" The monosyllable escaped from his lips with a snort like a puff ofsteam from under the lid of a boiling pot. "Not even if I ask you very nicely, Sholto?" "No!" The negative came again, apparently fiercer than before, almost likean explosion indeed. But still there was a hollow sound about itsomewhere. At this the girl stopped suddenly and, drawing a little lace kerchieffrom her bosom, she sank her head into it in apparent abandonment ofgrief. "Oh, what shall I do?" she wailed, "Sholto says he will not marry me, and I have asked him so sweetly. What shall I do? What shall I do? Iwill e'en go and drown me in the Dee water!" And with her kerchief still held to her eyes--or at least (to bewholly accurate) to one of them--the despised maiden ran towards theriver bank. She did not run very fast, but still she ran. Now this was more than Sholto had bargained for, and he in turnpursued her light-foot, swifter than he had ever run in his life. Heovertook her just as she reached the little ascent of the rocks by theriver margin. His hand fell upon her shoulder and he turned her round. She was stillshaking with sobs--or something. "I will--I will, I _will_ drown myself!" she cried, her kerchiefcloser to her eyes. "I will marry you--I will do anything. I love you, Maud!" "You do not--you cannot!" she cried, pushing him fiercely away, "yousaid you would not! That I was not fit to marry. " "I did not mean it--I lied! I did not know what I said! I will dowhatever you bid me!" Sholto was grovelling now. "Then you will marry me--if I do not drown myself?" She spoke with a sort of relenting, delicious and tentative. "Yes--yes! When you will--to-morrow--now!" She dropped the kerchief and the laughing eyes of naughty MaudLindesay looked suddenly out upon Sholto like sunshine in a darkplace. They were dry and full of merriment. Not a trace of tears wasto be discerned in either of them. Then she gave another little skip, and, catching him by the arm, forced him to walk with her toward Castle Thrieve. "Of course you will marry me, silly! You could not help yourself, Sholto--and it shall be when I like too. But now that you have been sostern and crusty with me, I am not sure that I will not take LandlessJock after all!" * * * * * This is the end, and yet not the end. For still, say the country folk, when the leaves are greenest by the lakeside, when the white thorn iswhitest and the sun drops most gloriously behind the purpling hills ofthe west, when the children sing like mavises on the clachan greens, you may chance to spy under the Three Thorns of Carlinwark a ladyfairer than mortal eye hath seen. She will be sitting gracefully on awhite palfrey and hearkening to the bairns singing by the watersides. And the tears fall down her cheeks as she listens, in the place wherein the spring-time of the year young William Douglas first met the LadySybilla. THE END