dreamy fancies to the borders of insanity, it seemed at best no very
safe adventure to meet? one accoutred in the emblems of the King of
Terrors himself, alone, and in the midst of a wild forest. Be the
knight's character and purposes what they might, she resolved, however,
to accost him in the language and manner observed in romances upon such
occasions, in the hope even that if he were a madman he might prove a
peaceable one, and accessible to civility.
"Sir Knight," she said, in as firm a tone as she could assume, "right
sorry am I, if, by my hasty approach, I have disturbed your solitary
meditations. My horse, sensible I think of the presence of yours,
brought me hither, without my being aware whom or what I was to
encounter."
"I am one," answered the stranger, in a solemn tone, "whom few men seek
to meet, till the time comes that they can avoid me no longer."
"You speak, Sir Knight," replied the Lady de Berkely, "according to the
dismal character of which it has pleased you to assume the distinction.
May I appeal to one whose exterior is so formidable, for the purpose of
requesting some directions to guide me through this wild wood; as, for
instance, what is the name of the nearest castle, town, or hostelry,
and by what course I am best likely to reach such?"
"It is a singular audacity," answered the Knight of the Tomb, "that
would enter into conversation with him who is termed the Inexorable,
the Unsparing, and the Pitiless, whom even the most miserable forbears
to call to his assistance, lest his prayers should be too soon
answered."
"Sir Knight," replied the Lady Augusta, "the character which you have
assumed, unquestionably for good reasons, dictates to you a peculiar
course of speech; but although your part is a sad one, it does not, I
should suppose, render it necessary for you to refuse those acts of
civility to which you must have bound yourself in taking the high vows
of chivalry."
"If you will trust to my guidance," replied the ghastly figure, "there
is only one condition upon which I can grant you the information which
you require; and that is, that you follow my footsteps without any
questions asked as to the tendency of our journey."
"I suppose I must submit to your conditions," she answered, "if you are
indeed pleased to take upon yourself the task of being my guide. In my
heart I conceive you to be one of the unhappy gentlemen of Scotland,
who are now in arms, as they say, for the defence of their liberties. A
rash undertaking has brought me within the sphere of your influence,
and now the only favour I have to request of you, against whom I never
did, nor planned any evil, is the guidance which your knowledge of the
country permits you easily to afford me in my way to the frontiers of
England. Believe that what I may see of your haunts or of your
practices, shall be to me things invisible, as if they were actually
concealed by the sepulchre itself, of the king of which it has pleased
you to assume the attributes; and if a sum of money, enough to be the
ransom of a wealthy earl, will purchase such a favour at need, such a
ransom will be frankly paid, and with as much fidelity as ever it was
rendered by a prisoner to the knight by whom he was taken. Do not
reject me, princely Bruce - noble Douglas - if indeed it is to either of
these that I address myself in this my last extremity - men speak of
both as fearful enemies, but generous knights and faithful friends. Let
me entreat you to remember how much you would wish your own friends and
connexions to meet with compassion under similar circumstances, at the
hands of the knights of England."
"And have they done so?" replied the Knight, in a voice more gloomy
than before, "or do you act wisely, while imploring the protection of
one whom you believe to be a true Scottish knight, for no other reason
than the extreme and extravagant misery of his appearance? - is it, I
say, well or wise to remind him of the mode in which the lords of
England have treated the lovely maidens and the high-born dames of
Scotland? Have not their prison cages been suspended from the
battlements of castles, that their captivity might be kept in view of
every base burgher, who should desire to look upon the miseries of the
noblest peeresses, yea, even the Queen of Scotland? [Footnote: The
Queen of Robert the Bruce, and the Countess of Buchan, by whom, as one
of Macduff's descent, he was crowned at Scone, were secured in the
manner described.] Is this a recollection which can inspire a Scottish
knight with compassion towards an English lady? or is it a thought
which can do aught but swell the deeply sworn hatred of Edward
Plantagenet, the author of these evils, that boils in every drop of
Scottish blood which still feels the throb of life? No; - it is all you
can expect, if, cold and pitiless as the sepulchre I represent, I leave
you unassisted in the helpless condition in which you describe yourself
to be."
"You will not be so inhuman," replied the lady; "in doing so you must
surrender every right to honest fame, which you have won either by
sword or lance. You must surrender every pretence to that justice which
affects the merit of supporting the weak against the strong. You must
make it your principle to avenge the wrongs and tyranny of Edward
Plantagenet upon the dames and damosels of England, who have neither
access to his councils, nor perhaps give him their approbation in his
wars against Scotland."
"It would not then," said the Knight of the Sepulchre, "induce you to
depart from your request, should I tell you the evils to which you
would subject yourself should we fall into the hands of the English
troops, and should they find you under such ill-omened protection as my
own?"
"Be assured," said the lady, "the consideration of such an event does
not in the least shake my resolution, or desire of confiding in your
protection. You may probably know who I am, and may judge how far even,
Edward would hold himself entitled to extend punishment towards me."
"How am I to know you," replied the ghastly cavalier, "or your
circumstances? They must be extraordinary indeed, if they could form a
check, either of justice or humanity, upon the revengeful feelings of
Edward. All who know him are well assured that it is no ordinary motive
that will induce him to depart from the indulgence of his evil temper.
But be it as it may, you, lady, if a lady you be, throw yourself as a
burden upon me, and I must discharge myself of my trust as I best may;
for this purpose you must be guided implicitly by my directions, which
will be given after the fashion of those of the spiritual world, being
intimations, rather than detailed instructions for your conduct, and
expressed rather by commands, than, by any reason or argument. In this
way it is possible that I may be of service to you; in any other case,
it is most likely that I may fail you at need, and melt from your side
like a phantom which dreads the approach of day."
"You cannot be so cruel!" answered the lady. "A gentleman, a knight,
and a nobleman - and I persuade myself I speak to all - hath duties which
he cannot abandon."
"He has, I grant it, and they are most sacred to me," answered the
Spectral Knight; "but I have also duties whose obligations are doubly
binding, and to which I must sacrifice those which would otherwise lead
me to devote myself to your rescue. The only question is whether you
feel inclined to accept my protection on the limited terms on which
alone I can extend it, or whether you deem it better that each go their
own way, and limit themselves to their own resources, and trust the
rest to Providence?" "Alas!" replied the lady, "beset and hard pressed
as I am, to ask me to form a resolution for myself, is like calling on
the wretch in the act of falling from a precipice, to form a calm
judgment by what twig he may best gain the chance of breaking his fall.
His answer must necessarily be, that he will cling to that which he can
easiest lay hold of, and trust the rest to Providence. I accept
therefore your offer of protection in the modified way you are pleased
to limit it, and I put my faith in Heaven and in you. To aid me
effectually, however, you must know my name and my circumstances."
"All these," answered the Knight of the Sepulchre, "have already been
told me by your late companion; for deem not, young lady, that either
beauty, rank, extended domains, unlimited wealth, or the highest
accomplishments, can weigh any thing in the consideration of him who
wears the trappings of the tomb, and whose affections and desires are
long buried in the charnel-house."
"May your faith," said the Lady Augusta de Berkely, "be as steady as
your words appear severe, and I submit to your guidance, without the
least doubt or fear that it will prove otherwise than as I venture to
hope."
CHAPTER THE FIFTEENTH.
Like the dog following its master, when engaged in training him to the
sport in which he desires he should excel, the Lady Augusta felt
herself occasionally treated with a severity, calculated to impress
upon her the most implicit obedience and attention to the Knight of the
Tomb, in whom she had speedily persuaded herself she saw a principal
man among the retainers of Douglas, if not James of Douglas himself.
Still, however, the ideas which the lady had formed of the redoubted
Douglas, were those of a knight highly accomplished in the duties of
chivalry, devoted in particular to the service of the fair sex, and
altogether unlike the personage with whom she found herself so
strangely united, or rather for the present enthralled to. Nevertheless,
when, as if to abridge farther communication, he turned short into one
of the mazes of the wood, and seemed to adopt a pace, which, from the
nature of the ground, the horse on which the Lady Augusta was mounted
had difficulty to keep up with, she followed him with the alarm and
speed of the young spaniel, which from fear rather than fondness,
endeavours to keep up with the track of its severe master. The simile,
it is true, is not a very polite one, nor entirely becoming an age,
when women were worshipped with a certain degree of devotion; but such
circumstances as the present were also rare, and the Lady Augusta de
Berkely could not but persuade herself that the terrible champion,
whose name had been so long the theme of her anxiety, and the terror
indeed of the whole country, might be able, some way or other, to
accomplish her deliverance. She, therefore, exerted herself to the
utmost, so as to keep pace with the phantom-like apparition, and
followed the knight, as the evening shadow keeps watch upon the belated
rustic.
As the lady obviously suffered under the degree of exertion necessary
to keep her palfrey from stumbling in these steep and broken paths, the
Knight of the Tomb slackened his pace, looked anxiously around him, and
muttered apparently to himself, though probably intended for his
companion's ear, "There is no occasion for so much haste."
He proceeded at a slower rate, until they seemed to be on the brink of
a ravine, being one of many irregularities on the surface of the ground,
effected by the sudden torrents peculiar to that country, and which,
winding among the trees and copse-wood, formed, as it were, a net of
places of concealment, opening into each other, so that there was
perhaps no place in the world so fit for the purpose of ambuscade. The
spot where the borderer Turnbull had made his escape at the hunting
match, was one specimen of this broken country, and perhaps connected
itself with the various thickets and passes through which the knight
and pilgrim occasionally seemed to take their way, though that ravine
was at a considerable distance from their present route.
Meanwhile the knight led the way, as if rather with the purpose of
bewildering the Lady Augusta amidst these interminable woods, than
following any exact or fixed path. Here they ascended, and anon
appeared to descend in the same direction, finding only boundless
wildernesses, and varied combinations of tangled woodland scenery. Such
part of the country as seemed arable, the knight appeared carefully to
avoid; yet he could not direct his course with so much certainty but
that he occasionally crossed the path of inhabitants and cultivators,
who showed a consciousness of so singular a presence, but never as the
lady observed evinced any symptoms of recognition. The inference was
obvious, that the spectre knight was known in the country, and that he
possessed adherents or accomplices there, who were at least so far his
friends, as to avoid giving any alarm, which might be the means of his
discovery. The well-imitated cry of the night-owl, too frequent a guest
in the wilderness that its call should be a subject of surprise, seemed
to be a signal generally understood among them; for it was heard in
different parts of the wood, and the Lady Augusta, experienced in such
journeys by her former travels under the guidance of the minstrel
Bertram, was led to observe, that on hearing such wild notes, her guide
changed the direction of his course, and betook himself to paths which
led through deeper wilds, and more impenetrable thickets. This happened
so often, that a new alarm came upon the unfortunate pilgrim, which
suggested other motives of terror. Was she not the confidant, and
almost the tool of some artful design, laid with a view to an extensive
operation, which was destined to terminate, as the efforts of Douglas
had before done, in the surprise of his hereditary castle, the massacre
of the English garrison - and finally in the dishonour and death of that
Sir John de Walton, upon whose fate she had long believed, or taught
herself to believe, that her own was dependent?
It no sooner flashed across the mind of the Lady Augusta that she was
engaged in some such conspiracy with a Scottish insurgent, than she
shuddered at the consequences of the dark transactions in which she had
now become involved, and which appeared to have a tendency so very
different from what she had at first apprehended.
The hours of the morning of this remarkable day, being that of Palm
Sunday, were thus drawn out in wandering from place to place; while the
Lady de Berkely occasionally interposed by petitions for liberty, which
she endeavoured to express in the most moving and pathetic manner, and
by offers of wealth and treasures, to which no answer whatever was
returned by her strange guide.
At length, as if worn out by his captive's importunity, the knight,
coming close up to the bridle-rein of the Lady Augusta, said in a
solemn tone -
"I am, as you may well believe, none of those knights who roam through
wood and wild, seeking adventures, by which I may obtain grace in the
eyes of a fair lady: Yet will I to a certain degree grant the request
which thou dost solicit so anxiously, and the arbitration of thy fate
shall depend upon the pleasure of him to whose will thou hast expressed
thyself ready to submit thine own. I will, on our arrival at the place
of our destination, which is now at hand, write to Sir John de Walton,
and send my letter, together with thy fair self, by a special messenger.
He will, no doubt, speedily attend our summons, and thou shalt thyself
be satisfied, that even he who has as yet appeared deaf to entreaty,
and insensible to earthly affections, has still some sympathy for
beauty and for virtue. I will put the choice of safety, and thy future
happiness, into thine own hands, and those of the man whom thou hast
chosen; and thou mayst select which thou wilt betwixt those and
misery."
While he thus spoke, one of those ravines or clefts in the earth seemed
to yawn before them, and entering it at the upper end, the spectre
knight, with an attention which he had not yet shown, guided the lady's
courser by the rein down the broken and steep path by which alone the
bottom of the tangled dingle was accessible.
When placed on firm ground after the dangers of a descent, in which her
palfrey seemed to be sustained by the personal strength and address of
the singular being who had hold of the bridle, the lady looked with
some astonishment at a place so well adapted for concealment as that
which she had now reached. It appeared evident that it was used for
this purpose, for more than one stifled answer was given to a very low
bugle-note emitted by the Knight of the Tomb; and when the same note
was repeated, about half a score of armed men, some wearing the dress
of soldiers, others those of shepherds and agriculturists, showed
themselves imperfectly, as if acknowledging the summons.
CHAPTER THE SIXTEENTH.
"Hail to you, my gallant friends!" said the Knight of the Tomb to his
companions, who seemed to welcome him with the eagerness of men engaged
in the same perilous undertaking. "The winter has passed over, the
festival of Palm Sunday is come, and as surely as the ice and snow of
this season shall not remain to chill the earth through the ensuing
summer, so surely we, in a few hours, keep our word to those southern
braggarts, who think their language of boasting and malice has as much
force over our Scottish bosoms, as the blast possesses over the autumn
fruits; but it is not so. While we choose to remain concealed, they may
as vainly seek to descry us, as a housewife would search for the needle
she has dropped among the withered foliage of yon gigantic oak. Yet a
few hours, and the lost needle shall become the exterminating sword of
the Genius of Scotland, avenging ten thousand injuries, and especially
the life of the gallant Lord Douglas, cruelly done to death as an exile
from his native country."
An exclamation between a yell and a groan burst from the assembled
retainers of Douglas, upon being reminded of the recent death of their
chieftain; while they seemed at the same time sensible of the necessity
of making little noise, lest they should give the alarm to some of the
numerous English parties which were then traversing different parts of
the forest. The acclamation, so cautiously uttered, had scarce died
away in silence, when the Knight of the Tomb, or, to call him by his
proper name, Sir James Douglas, again addressed his handful of faithful
followers.
"One effort, my friends, may yet be made to end our strife with the
Southron without bloodshed. Fate has within a few hours thrown into my
power the young heiress of Berkely, for whose sake it is said Sir John
de Walton keeps with such obstinacy the castle which is mine by
inheritance. Is there one among you who dare go, as the honourable
escort of Augusta de Berkely, bearing a letter, explaining the terms on
which I am willing to restore her to her lover, to freedom, and to her
English lordships?"
"If there is none other," said a tall man, dressed in the tattered
attire of a woodsman, and being, in fact, no other than the very
Michael Turnbull, who had already given so extraordinary a proof of his
undaunted manhood, "I will gladly be the person who will be the lady's
henchman on this expedition."
"Thou art never wanting," said the Douglas, "where a manly deed is to
be done; but remember, this lady must pledge to us her word and oath
that she will hold herself our faithful prisoner, rescue or no rescue;
that she will consider herself as pledged for the life, freedom, and
fair usage of Michael Turnbull; and that if Sir John de Walton refuse
my terms, she must hold herself obliged to return with Turnbull to our
presence, in order to be disposed of at our pleasure."
There was much in these conditions, which struck the Lady Augusta with
natural doubt and horror; nevertheless, strange as it may seem, the
declaration of the Douglas gave a species of decision to her situation,
which might have otherwise been unattainable; and from the high opinion
which she entertained of the Douglas's chivalry, she could not bring
herself to think, that any part which he might play in the approaching
drama would be other than that which a perfect good knight would, under
all circumstances, maintain towards his enemy. Even with respect to De
Walton, she felt herself relieved of a painful difficulty. The idea of
her being discovered by the knight himself, in a male disguise, had
preyed upon her spirits; and she felt as if guilty of a departure from
the laws of womanhood, in having extended her favour towards him beyond
maidenly limits; a step, too, which might tend to lessen her in the
eyes of the lover for whom she had hazarded so much.
"The heart, she said, is lightly prized,
That is but lightly won;
And Long shall mourn the heartless man,
That leaves his love too soon."
On the other hand, to be brought before him as a prisoner, was indeed a
circumstance equally perplexing as unpleasing, but it was one which was
beyond her control, and the Douglas, into whose hands she had fallen,
appeared to her to represent the deity in the play, whose entrance was
almost sufficient to bring its perplexities to a conclusion; she
therefore not unwillingly submitted to take what oaths and promises
were required by the party in whose hands she found herself, and
accordingly engaged to be a true prisoner, whatever might occur.
Meantime she strictly obeyed the directions of those who had her
motions at command, devoutly praying that circumstances, in themselves
so adverse, might nevertheless work together for the safety of her
lover and her own freedom.
A pause ensued, during which a slight repast was placed before the Lady
Augusta, who was well-nigh exhausted with the fatigues of her journey.
Douglas and his partisans, meanwhile, whispered together, as if
unwilling she should hear their conference; while, to purchase their
good-will, if possible, she studiously avoided every appearance of
listening.
After some conversation, Turnbull, who appeared to consider the lady as
peculiarly his charge, said to her in a harsh voice, "Do not fear,
lady; no wrong shall be done you; nevertheless, you must be content for
a space to be blindfolded."
She submitted to this in silent terror; and the trooper, wrapping part
of a mantle round her head, did not assist her to remount her palfrey,
but lent her his arm to support her in this blinded state.
CHAPTER THE SEVENTEENTH.
The ground which they traversed was, as Lady Augusta could feel, very
broken and uneven, and sometimes, as she thought, encumbered with ruins,
which were difficult to surmount. The strength of her comrade assisted
her forward on such occasions; but his help was so roughly administered,
that the lady once or twice, in fear or suffering, was compelled to
groan or sigh heavily, whatever was her desire to suppress such
evidence of the apprehension which she underwent, or the pain which she
endured. Presently, upon an occasion of this kind, she was distinctly
sensible that the rough woodsman was removed from her side, and another
of the party substituted in his stead, whose voice, more gentle than
that of his companions, she thought she had lately heard.
"Noble lady," were the words, "fear not the slightest injury at our
hands, and accept of my ministry instead of that of my henchman, who
has gone forward with our letter; do not think me presuming on my
situation if I bear you in my arms through ruins where you could not
easily move alone and blindfold."
At the same time the Lady Augusta Berkely felt herself raised from the
earth in the strong arms of a man, and borne onward with the utmost
gentleness, without the necessity of making those painful exertions
which had been formerly required. She was ashamed of her situation; but,
however delicate, it was no time to give vent to complaints, which
might have given offence to persons whom it was her interest to
conciliate. She, therefore, submitted to necessity, and heard the
following words whispered in her ear.
"Fear nothing; there is no evil intended you; nor shall Sir John de
Walton, if he loves you as you deserve at his hand, receive any harm on
our part. We call on him but to do justice to ourselves and to you; and
be assured you will best accomplish your own happiness by aiding our
views, which are equally in favour of your wishes and your freedom."
The Lady Augusta would have made some answer to this, but her breath,
betwixt fear and the speed with which she was transported, refused to
permit her to use intelligible accents. Meantime she began to be
sensible that she was enclosed within some building, and probably a
ruinous one - for although the mode of her transportation no longer
permitted her to ascertain the nature of her path in any respect
distinctly, yet the absence of the external air - which was, however,
sometimes excluded, and sometimes admitted in furious gusts - intimated
that she was conducted through buildings partly entire, and in other
places admitting the wind through wide rents and gaps. In one place it
seemed to the lady as if she passed through a considerable body of
people, all of whom observed silence, although there was sometimes
heard among them a murmur, to which every one present in some degree
contributed, although the general sound did not exceed a whisper. Her
situation made her attend to every circumstance, and she did not fail
to observe that these persons made way for him who bore her, until at
length she became sensible that he descended by the regular steps of a
stair, and that she was now alone excepting his company. Arrived, as it
appeared to the lady, on more level ground, they proceeded on their
singular road by a course which appeared neither direct nor easy, and
through an atmosphere which was close to a smothering degree, and felt
at the same time damp and disagreeable, as if from the vapours of a
new-made grave. Her guide again spoke.
"Bear up, Lady Augusta, for a little longer, and continue to endure
that atmosphere which must be one day common to us all. By the
necessity of my situation, I must resign my present office to your
original guide, and can only give you my assurance, that neither he,
nor any one else, shall offer you the least incivility or insult - and
on this you may rely, on the faith of a man of honour."
He placed her, as he said these words, upon the soft turf, and, to her
infinite refreshment, made her sensible that she was once more in the
open air, and free from the smothering atmosphere which had before
oppressed her like that of a charnel-house. At the same time, she
breathed in a whisper an anxious wish that she might be permitted to
disencumber herself from the folds of the mantle which excluded almost
the power of breathing, though intended only to prevent her seeing by
what road she travelled. She immediately found it unfolded, agreeably
to her request, and hastened, with uncovered eyes, to take note of the
scene around her.
It was overshadowed by thick oak trees, among which stood some remnants
of buildings, or what might have seemed such, being perhaps the same in
which she had been lately wandering. A clear fountain of living water
bubbled forth from under the twisted roots of one of those trees, and
offered the lady the opportunity of a draught of the pure element, and
in which she also bathed her face, which had received more than one
scratch in the course of her journey, in spite of the care, and almost
the tenderness, with which she had latterly been borne along. The cool
water speedily stopt the bleeding of those trifling injuries, and the
application served at the same time to recall the scattered senses of
the damsel herself. Her first idea was, whether an attempt to escape,
if such should appear possible, was not advisable. A moment's
reflection, however, satisfied her that such a scheme was not to be
thought of; and such second thoughts were confirmed by the approach of
the gigantic form of the huntsman Turnbull, the rough tones of whose
voice were heard before his figure was obvious to her eye.
"Were you impatient for my return, fair lady? Such as I," he continued
in an ironical tone of voice, "who are foremost in the chase of wild
stags and silvan cattle, are not in use to lag behind, when fair ladies,
like you, are the objects of pursuit; and if I am not so constant in my
attendance as you might expect, believe me, it is because I was engaged
in another matter, to which I must sacrifice for a little even the duty
of attending on you."
"I offer no resistance," said the lady; "forbear, however, in
discharging thy duty, to augment my uneasiness by thy conversation, for
thy master hath pledged me his word that he will not suffer me to be
alarmed or ill treated."
"Nay, fair one," replied the huntsman, "I ever thought it was fit to
make interest by soft words with fair ladies; but if you like it not, I
have no such pleasure in hunting for fine holyday terms, but that I can
with equal ease hold myself silent. Come, then, since we must wait upon
this lover of yours ere morning closes, and learn his last resolution
touching a matter which is become so strangely complicated, I will hold
no more intercourse with you as a female, but talk to you as a person
of sense, although an Englishwoman."
"You will," replied the lady, "best fulfil the intentions of those by
whose orders you act, by holding no society with me whatever, otherwise
than is necessary in the character of guide."
The man lowered his brows, yet seemed to assent to what the Lady of
Berkely proposed, and remained silent as they for some time pursued
their course, each pondering over their own share of meditation, which
probably turned upon matters essentially different. At length the loud
blast of a bugle was heard at no great distance from the unsocial
fellow-travellers.
"That is the person we seek," said Turnbull; "I know his blast from any
other who frequents this forest, and my orders are to bring you to
speech of him."
The blood darted rapidly through the lady's veins at the thought of
being thus unceremoniously presented to the knight, in whose favour she
had confessed a rash preference more agreeable to the manners of those
times, when exaggerated sentiments often inspired actions of
extravagant generosity, than in our days, when every thing is accounted
absurd which does not turn upon a motive connected with the immediate
selfish interests of the actor himself. When Turnbull, therefore,
winded his horn, as if in answer to the blast which they had heard, the
lady was disposed to fly at the first impulse of shame and of fear.
Turnbull perceived her intention, and caught hold of her with no very
gentle grasp, saying - "Nay, lady, it is to be understood that you play
your own part in the drama, which, unless you continue on the stage,
will conclude unsatisfactorily to us all, in a combat at outrance
between your lover and me, when it will appear which of us is most
worthy of your favour."
"I will be patient," said the lady, bethinking her that even this
strange man's presence, and the compulsion which he appeared to use
towards her, was a sort of excuse to her female scruples, for coming
into the presence of her lover, at least at her first appearance before
him, in a disguise which her feelings confessed was not extremely
decorous, or reconcilable to the dignity of her sex.
The moment after these thoughts had passed through her mind, the tramp
of a horse was heard approaching; and Sir John de Walton, pressing
through the trees, became aware of the presence of his lady, captive,
as it seemed, in the grasp of a Scottish outlaw, who was only known to
him by his former audacity at the hunting-match.
His surprise and joy only supplied the knight with those hasty
expressions - "Caitiff, let go thy hold! or die in thy profane attempt
to control the motions of one whom the very sun in heaven should be
proud to obey." At the same time, apprehensive that the huntsman might
hurry the lady from his sight by means of some entangled path - such as
upon a former occasion had served him for escape Sir John de Walton
dropt his cumbrous lance, of which the trees did not permit him the
perfect use, and springing from his horse, approached Turnbull with his
drawn sword.
The Scotchman, keeping his left hand still upon the lady's mantle,
uplifted with his right his battle-axe, or Jedwood staff, for the
purpose of parrying and returning the blow of his antagonist, but the
lady spoke.
"Sir John de Walton," she said, "for heaven's sake, forbear all
violence, till you hear upon what pacific object I am brought hither,
and by what peaceful means these wars may be put an end to. This man,
though an enemy of yours, has been to me a civil and respectful
guardian; and I entreat you to forbear him while he speaks the purpose
for which he has brought me hither."
"To speak of compulsion and the Lady de Berkely in the same breath,
would itself be cause enough for instant death," said the Governor of
Douglas Castle; "but you command, lady, and I spare his insignificant
life, although I have causes of complaint against him, the least of
which were good warrant, had he a thousand lives, for the forfeiture of
them all."
"John de Walton," replied Turnbull, "this lady well knows that no fear
of thee operates in my mind to render this a peaceful meeting; and were
I not withheld by other circumstances of great consideration to the
Douglas as well as thyself, I should have no more fear in facing the
utmost thou couldst do, than I have now in levelling that sapling to
the earth it grows upon."
So saying, Michael Turnbull raised his battle-axe, and struck from a
neighbouring oak-tree a branch, wellnigh as thick as a man's arm, which
(with all its twigs and leaves) rushed to the ground between De Walton
and the Scotchman, giving a singular instance of the keenness of his
weapon, and the strength and dexterity with which he used it.
"Let there be truce, then, between us, good fellow," said Sir John de
Walton, "since it is the lady's pleasure that such should be the case,
and let me know what thou hast to say to me respecting her?"
"On that subject," said Turnbull, "my words are few, but mark them, Sir
Englishman. The Lady Augusta Berkely, wandering in this country, has
become a prisoner of the noble Lord Douglas, the rightful inheritor of
the Castle and lordship, and he finds himself obliged to attach to the
liberty of this lady the following conditions, being in all respects
such as good and lawful warfare entitles a knight to exact. That is to
say, in all honour and safety the Lady Augusta shall be delivered to
Sir John de Walton, or those whom he shall name, for the purpose of
receiving her. On the other hand, the Castle of Douglas itself,
together with all out-posts or garrisons thereunto belonging, shall be
made over and surrendered by Sir John de Walton, in the same situation,
and containing the same provisions and artillery, as are now within
their walls; and the space of a month of truce shall be permitted to
Sir James Douglas and Sir John de Walton farther to regulate the terms
of surrender on both parts, having first plighted their knightly word
and oath, that in the exchange of the honourable lady for the foresaid
castle, lies the full import of the present agreement, and that every
other subject of dispute shall, at the pleasure of the noble knights
foresaid, be honourably compounded and agreed betwixt them; or at their
pleasure, settled knightly by single combat according to usage, and in
a fair field, before any honourable person, that may possess power
enough to preside."
It is not easy to conceive the astonishment of Sir John de Walton at
hearing the contents of this extraordinary cartel; he looked towards
the Lady of Berkely with that aspect of despair with which a criminal
may be supposed to see his guardian angel prepare for departure.
Through her mind also similar ideas flowed, as if they contained a
concession of what she had considered as the summit of her wishes, but
under conditions disgraceful to her lover, like the cherub's fiery
sword of yore, which was a barrier between our first parents and the
blessings of Paradise. Sir John de Walton, after a moment's hesitation,
broke silence in these words: -
"Noble lady, you may be surprised if a condition be imposed upon me,
having for its object your freedom; and if Sir John de Walton, already
standing under those obligations to you, which he is proud of
acknowledging, should yet hesitate on accepting, with the utmost
eagerness, what must ensure your restoration to freedom and
independence; but so it is, that the words now spoken have thrilled in
mine ear without reaching to my understanding, and I must pray the Lady
of Berkely for pardon if I take time to reconsider them for a short
space."
"And I," replied Turnbull, "have only power to allow you half an hour
for the consideration of an offer, in accepting which, methinks, you
should jump shoulder-height instead of asking any time for reflection.
What does this cartel exact, save what your duty as a knight implicitly
obliges you to? You have engaged yourself to become the agent of the
tyrant Edward, in holding Douglas Castle, as his commander, to the
prejudice of the Scottish nation, and of the Knight of Douglas Dale,
who never, as a community or as an individual, were guilty of the least
injury towards you; you are therefore prosecuting a false path,
unworthy of a good knight. On the other hand, the freedom and safety of
your lady is now proposed to be pledged to you, with a full assurance
of her liberty and honour, on consideration of your withdrawing from
the unjust line of conduct, in which you have suffered yourself to be
imprudently engaged. If you persevere in it, you place your own honour,
and the lady's happiness, in the hands of men whom you have done
everything in your power to render desperate, and whom, thus irritated,
it is most probable you may find such."
"It is not from thee at least," said the knight, "that I shall learn to
estimate the manner in which Douglas will explain the laws of war, or
De Walton receive them at his dictating."
"I am not, then," said Turnbull, "received as a friendly messenger?
Farewell, and think of this lady as being in any hands but those which
are safe, while you make up at leisure your mind upon the message I
have brought you. Come, madam, we must be gone."
So saying, he seized upon the lady's hand, and pulled her, as if to
force her to withdraw. The lady had stood motionless, and almost
senseless, while these speeches were exchanged between the warriors;
but when she felt the grasp of Michael Turnbull, she exclaimed, like
one almost beside herself with fear - "Help me, De Walton!"
The knight, stung to instant rage, assaulted the forester with the
utmost fury, and dealt him with his long sword, almost at unawares,
two or three heavy blows, by which he was so wounded that he sunk
backwards in the thicket, and. De Walton was about to despatch him,
when he was prevented by the anxious cry of the lady - "Alas! De Walton,
what have you done? This man was only an ambassador, and should have
passed free from injury, while he confined himself to the delivery of
what he was charged with; and if thou hast slain him, who knows how
frightful may prove the vengeance exacted!"
The voice of the lady seemed to recover the huntsman from the effects
of the blows he had received: he sprung on his feet, saying - "Never
mind me, nor think of my becoming the means of making mischief. The