Part 10 (1/2)
The combat became now very sharp, and although the sword-and-buckler men made more clatter and noise than they did real damage, yet several good cuts were dealt among them; and those who wore rapiers, a more formidable weapon than the ordinary Scottish swords, gave and received dangerous wounds. Two men were already stretched on the causeway, and the party of Seyton began to give ground, being much inferior in number to the other, with which several of the citizens had united themselves, when young Roland Graeme, beholding their leader, a n.o.ble gentleman, fighting bravely, and hard pressed with numbers, could withhold no longer. ”Adam Woodc.o.c.k,” he said, ”an you be a man, draw, and let us take part with the Seyton.” And, without waiting a reply, or listening to the falconer's earnest entreaty, that he would leave alone a strife in which he had no concern, the fiery youth sprung from his horse, drew his short sword, and shouting like the rest, ”A Seyton! a Seyton! Set on! set on!” thrust forward into the throng, and struck down one of those who was pressing hardest upon the gentleman whose cause he espoused. This sudden reinforcement gave spirit to the weaker party, who began to renew the combat with much alacrity, when four of the magistrates of the city, distinguished by their velvet cloaks and gold chains, came up with a guard of halberdiers and citizens, armed with long weapons, and well accustomed to such service, thrust boldly forward, and compelled the swordsmen to separate, who immediately retreated in different directions, leaving such of the wounded on both sides, as had been disabled in the fray, lying on the street.
The falconer, who had been tearing his beard for anger at his comrade's rashness, now rode up to him with the horse which he had caught by the bridle, and accosted him with ”Master Roland--master goose--master mad-cap--will it please you to get on horse, and budge? or will you remain here to be carried to prison, and made to answer for this pretty day's work?”
The page, who had begun his retreat along with the Seytons, just as if he had been one of their natural allies, was by this unceremonious application made sensible that he was acting a foolish part; and, obeying Adam Woodc.o.c.k with some sense of shame, he sprung actively on horseback, and upsetting with the shoulder of the animal a city-officer, who was making towards him, he began to ride smartly down the street, along with his companion, and was quickly out of the reach of the hue and cry. In fact, rencounters of the kind were so common in Edinburgh at that period, that the disturbance seldom excited much attention after the affray was over, unless some person of consequence chanced to have fallen, an incident which imposed on his friends the duty of avenging his death on the first convenient opportunity. So feeble, indeed, was the arm of the police, that it was not unusual for such skirmishes to last for hours, where the parties were numerous and well matched. But at this time the Regent, a man of great strength of character, aware of the mischief which usually arose from such acts of violence, had prevailed with the magistrates to keep a constant guard on foot for preventing or separating such affrays as had happened in the present case.
The falconer and his young companion were now riding down the Canongate, and had slackened their pace to avoid attracting attention, the rather that there seemed to be no appearance of pursuit. Roland hung his head as one who was conscious his conduct had been none of the wisest, whilst his companion thus addressed him: ”Will you be pleased to tell me one thing, Master Roland Graeme, and that is, whether there be a devil incarnate in you or no?”
”Truly, Master Adam Woodc.o.c.k,” answered the page, ”I would fain hope there is not.”
”Then,” said Adam, ”I would fain know by what other influence or instigation you are perpetually at one end or the other of some b.l.o.o.d.y brawl? What, I pray, had you to do with these Seytons and Leslies, that you never heard the names of in your life before?”
”You are out there, my friend,” said Roland Graeme, ”I have my own reasons for being a friend to the Seytons.”
”They must have been very secret reasons then,” answered Adam Woodc.o.c.k, ”for I think I could have wagered, you had never known one of the name; and I am apt to believe still, that it was your unhallowed pa.s.sion for that clas.h.i.+ng of cold iron, which has as much charm for you as the clatter of a bra.s.s pan hath for a hive of bees, rather than any care either for Seyton or for Leslie, that persuaded you to thrust your fool's head into a quarrel that no ways concerned you. But take this for a warning, my young master, that if you are to draw sword with every man who draws sword on the Highgate here, it will be scarce worth your while to sheathe bilbo again for the rest of your life, since, if I guess rightly, it will scarce endure on such terms for many hours--all which I leave to your serious consideration.”
”By my word, Adam, I honour your advice; and I promise you, that I will practise by it as faithfully as if I were sworn apprentice to you, to the trade and mystery of bearing myself with all wisdom and safety through the new paths of life that I am about to be engaged in.”
”And therein you will do well,” said the falconer; ”and I do not quarrel with you, Master Roland, for having a grain over much spirit, because I know one may bring to the hand a wild hawk which one never can a dung-hill hen--and so betwixt two faults you have the best on't. But besides your peculiar genius for quarrelling and lugging out your side companion, my dear Master Roland, you have also the gift of peering under every woman's m.u.f.fler and screen, as if you expected to find an old acquaintance. Though were you to spy one, I should be as much surprised at it, well wotting how few you have seen of these same wild-fowl, as I was at your taking so deep an interest even now in the Seyton.”
”Tush, man! nonsense and folly,” answered Roland Graeme, ”I but sought to see what eyes these gentle hawks have got under their hood.”
”Ay, but it's a dangerous subject of inquiry,” said the falconer; ”you had better hold out your bare wrist for an eagle to perch upon.--Look you, Master Roland, these pretty wild-geese cannot be hawked at without risk--they have as many divings, boltings, and volleyings, as the most gamesome quarry that falcon ever flew at--And besides, every woman of them is manned with her husband, or her kind friend, or her brother, or her cousin, or her sworn servant at the least--But you heed me not, Master Roland, though I know the game so well--your eye is all on that pretty damsel who trips down the gate before us--by my certes, I will warrant her a blithe dancer either in reel or revel--a pair of silver moris...o...b..lls would become these pretty ankles as well as the jesses would suit the fairest Norway hawk.”
”Thou art a fool, Adam,” said the page, ”and I care not a b.u.t.ton about the girl or her ankles--But, what the foul fiend, one must look at something!”
”Very true, Master Roland Graeme,” said his guide, ”but let me pray you to choose your objects better. Look you, there is scarce a woman walks this High-gate with a silk screen or a pearlin m.u.f.fler, but, as I said before, she has either gentleman-usher before her, or kinsman, or lover, or husband, at her elbow, or it may be a brace of stout fellows with sword and buckler, not so far behind but what they can follow close--But you heed me no more than a goss-hawk minds a yellow yoldring.”
”O yes, I do--I do mind you indeed,” said Roland Graeme; ”but hold my nag a bit--I will be with you in the exchange of a whistle.” So saying, and ere Adam Woodc.o.c.k could finish the sermon which was dying on his tongue, Roland Graeme, to the falconer's utter astonishment, threw him the bridle of his jennet, jumped off horseback, and pursued down one of the closes or narrow lanes, which, opening under a vault, terminate upon the main-street, the very maiden to whom his friend had accused him of showing so much attention, and who had turned down the pa.s.s in question.
”Saint Mary, Saint Magdalen, Saint Benedict, Saint Barnabas!” said the poor falconer, when he found himself thus suddenly brought to a pause in the midst of the Canongate, and saw his young charge start off like a madman in quest of a damsel whom he had never, as Adam supposed, seen in his life before,--”Saint Satan and Saint Beelzebub--for this would make one swear saint and devil--what can have come over the lad, with a wanion! And what shall I do the whilst!--he will have his throat cut, the poor lad, as sure as I was born at the foot of Roseberry-Topping. Could I find some one to hold the horses! but they are as sharp here north-away as in canny Yorks.h.i.+re herself, and quit bridle, quit t.i.tt, as we say. An I could but see one of our folks now, a holly-sprig were worth a gold ta.s.sel; or could I but see one of the Regent's men--but to leave the horses to a stranger, that I cannot--and to leave the place while the lad is in jeopardy, that I wonot.”
We must leave the falconer, however, in the midst of his distress, and follow the hot-headed youth who was the cause of his perplexity.
The latter part of Adam Woodc.o.c.k's sage remonstrance had been in a great measure lost upon Roland, for whose benefit it was intended; because, in one of the female forms which tripped along the street, m.u.f.fled in a veil of striped silk, like the women of Brussels at this day, his eye had discerned something which closely resembled the exquisite shape and spirited bearing of Catherine Seyton.--During all the grave advice which the falconer was dinning in his ears, his eye continued intent upon so interesting an object of observation; and at length, as the damsel, just about to dive under one of the arched pa.s.sages which afforded an outlet to the Canongate from the houses beneath, (a pa.s.sage, graced by a projecting s.h.i.+eld of arms, supported by two huge foxes of stone,) had lifted her veil for the purpose perhaps of descrying who the horseman was who for some time had eyed her so closely, young Roland saw, under the shade of the silken plaid, enough of the bright azure eyes, fair locks, and blithe features, to induce him, like an inexperienced and rash madcap, whose wilful ways never had been traversed by contradiction, nor much subjected to consideration, to throw the bridle of his horse into Adam Woodc.o.c.k's hand, and leave him to play the waiting gentleman, while he dashed down the paved court after Catherine Seyton--all as aforesaid.
Women's wits are proverbially quick, but apparently those of Catherine suggested no better expedient than fairly to betake herself to speed of foot, in hopes of baffling the page's vivacity, by getting safely lodged before he could discover where. But a youth of eighteen, in pursuit of a mistress, is not so easily outstripped. Catherine fled across a paved court, decorated with large formal vases of stone, in which yews, cypresses, and other evergreens, vegetated in sombre sullenness, and gave a correspondent degree of solemnity to the high and heavy building in front of which they were placed as ornaments, aspiring towards a square portion of the blue hemisphere, corresponding exactly in extent to the quadrangle in which they were stationed, and all around which rose huge black walls, exhibiting windows in rows of five stories, with heavy architraves over each, bearing armorial and religious devices.
Through this court Catherine Seyton flashed like a hunted doe, making the best use of those pretty legs which had attracted the commendation even of the reflective and cautious Adam Woodc.o.c.k. She hastened towards a large door in the centre of the lower front of the court, pulled the bobbin till the latch flew up, and ensconced herself in the ancient mansion. But, if she fled like a doe, Roland Graeme followed with the speed and ardour of a youthful stag-hound, loosed for the first time on his prey. He kept her in view in spite of her efforts; for it is remarkable what an advantage, in such a race, the gallant who desires to see, possesses over the maiden who wishes not to be seen--an advantage which I have known counterbalance a great start in point of distance. In short, he saw the waving of her screen, or veil, at one corner, heard the tap of her foot, light as that was, as it crossed the court, and caught a glimpse of her figure just as she entered the door of the mansion.
Roland Graeme, inconsiderate and headlong as we have described him, having no knowledge of real life but from the romances which he had read, and not an idea of checking himself in the midst of any eager impulse; possessed, besides, of much courage and readiness, never hesitated for a moment to approach the door through which the object of his search had disappeared. He, too, pulled the bobbin, and the latch, though heavy and ma.s.sive, answered to the summons, and arose. The page entered with the same precipitation which had marked his whole proceeding, and found himself in a large hall, or vestibule, dimly enlightened by latticed cas.e.m.e.nts of painted gla.s.s, and rendered yet dimmer through the exclusion of the sunbeams, owing to the height of the walls of those buildings by which the court-yard was enclosed. The walls of the hall were surrounded with suits of ancient and rusted armour, interchanged with huge and ma.s.sive stone scutcheons, bearing double tressures, fleured and counter-fleured, wheat-sheaves, coronets, and so forth, things to which Roland Graeme gave not a moment's attention.
In fact, he only deigned to observe the figure of Catherine Seyton, who, deeming herself safe in the hall, had stopped to take breath after her course, and was reposing herself for a moment on a large oaken settle which stood at the upper end of the hall. The noise of Roland's entrance at once disturbed her; she started up with a faint scream of surprise, and escaped through one of the several folding-doors which opened into this apartment as a common centre. This door, which Roland Graeme instantly approached, opened on a large and well-lighted gallery, at the upper end of which he could hear several voices, and the noise of hasty steps approaching towards the hall or vestibule. A little recalled to sober thought by an appearance of serious danger, he was deliberating whether he should stand fast or retire, when Catherine Seyton re-entered from a side door, running towards him with as much speed as a few minutes since she had fled from him.
”Oh, what mischief brought you hither?” she said; ”fly--fly, or you are a dead man,--or stay--they come--flight is impossible--say you came to ask for Lord Seyton.”
She sprung from him and disappeared through the door by which she had made her second appearance; and, at the same instant, a pair of large folding-doors at the upper end of the gallery flew open with vehemence, and six or seven young gentlemen, richly dressed, pressed forward into the apartment, having, for the greater part, their swords drawn.
”Who is it,” said one, ”dare intrude on us in our own mansion?”
”Cut him to pieces,” said another; ”let him pay for this day's insolence and violence--he is some follower of the Rothes.”
”No, by Saint Mary,” said another; ”he is a follower of the arch-fiend and enn.o.bled clown Halbert Glendinning, who takes the style of Avenel--once a church-va.s.sal, now a pillager of the church.”
”It is so,” said a fourth; ”I know him by the holly-sprig, which is their cognizance. Secure the door, he must answer for this insolence.”
Two of the gallants, hastily drawing their weapons, pa.s.sed on to the door by which Roland had entered the hall, and stationed themselves there as if to prevent his escape. The others advanced on Graeme, who had just sense enough to perceive that any attempt at resistance would be alike fruitless and imprudent. At once, and by various voices, none of which sounded amicably, the page was required to say who he was, whence he came, his name, his errand, and who sent him hither. The number of the questions demanded of him at once, afforded a momentary apology for his remaining silent, and ere that brief truce had elapsed, a personage entered the hall, at whose appearance those who had gathered fiercely around Roland, fell back with respect.
This was a tall man, whose dark hair was already grizzled, though his high and haughty features retained all the animation of youth. The upper part of his person was undressed to his Holland s.h.i.+rt, whose ample folds were stained with blood. But he wore a mantle of crimson, lined with rich fur, cast around him, which supplied the deficiency of his dress. On his head he had a crimson velvet bonnet, looped up on one side with a small golden chain of many links, which, going thrice around the hat, was fastened by a medal, agreeable to the fas.h.i.+on amongst the grandees of the time.
”Whom have you here, sons and kinsmen,” said he, ”around whom you crowd thus roughly?--Know you not that the shelter of this roof should secure every one fair treatment, who shall come hither either in fair peace, or in open and manly hostility?”
”But here, my lord,” answered one of the youths, ”is a knave who comes on treacherous espial!”
”I deny the charge!” said Roland Graeme, boldly, ”I came to inquire after my Lord Seyton.”
”A likely tale,” answered his accusers, ”in the mouth of a follower of Glendinning.”
”Stay, young men,” said the Lord Seyton, for it was that n.o.bleman himself, ”let me look at this youth--By heaven, it is the very same who came so boldly to my side not very many minutes since, when some of my own knaves bore themselves with more respect to their own wors.h.i.+pful safety than to mine! Stand back from him, for he well deserves honour and a friendly welcome at your hands, instead of this rough treatment.”
They fell back on all sides, obedient to Lord Seyton's commands, who, taking Roland Graeme by the hand, thanked him for his prompt and gallant a.s.sistance, adding, that he nothing doubted, ”the same interest which he had taken in his cause in the affray, brought him hither to inquire after his hurt.”
Roland bowed low in acquiescence.
”Or is there any thing in which I can serve you, to show my sense of your ready gallantry?”
But the page, thinking it best to abide by the apology for his visit which the Lord Seyton had so aptly himself suggested, replied, ”that to be a.s.sured of his lords.h.i.+p's safety, had been the only cause of his intrusion. He judged,” he added, ”he had seen him receive some hurt in the affray.”
”A trifle,” said Lord Seyton; ”I had but stripped my doublet, that the chirurgeon might put some dressing on the paltry scratch, when these rash boys interrupted us with their clamour.”
Roland Graeme, making a low obeisance, was now about to depart, for, relieved from the danger of being treated as a spy, he began next to fear, that his companion, Adam Woodc.o.c.k, whom he had so unceremoniously quitted, would either bring him into some farther dilemma, by venturing into the hotel in quest of him, or ride off and leave him behind altogether. But Lord Seyton did not permit him to escape so easily. ”Tarry,” he said, ”young man, and let me know thy rank and name. The Seyton has of late been more wont to see friends and followers shrink from his side, than to receive aid from strangers-but a new world may come around, in which he may have the chance of rewarding his well-wishers.”
”My name is Roland Graeme, my lord,” answered the youth, ”a page, who, for the present, is in the service of Sir Halbert Glendinning.”
”I said so from the first,” said one of the young men; ”my life I will wager, that this is a shaft out of the heretic's quiver-a stratagem from first to last, to injeer into your confidence some espial of his own. They know how to teach both boys and women to play the intelligencers.”
”That is false, if it be spoken of me,” said Roland; ”no man in Scotland should teach me such a foul part!”
”I believe thee, boy,” said Lord Seyton, ”for thy strokes were too fair to be dealt upon an understanding with those that were to receive them. Credit me, however, I little expected to have help at need from one of your master's household; and I would know what moved thee in my quarrel, to thine own endangering?”
”So please you, my lord,” said Roland, ”I think my master himself would not have stood by, and seen an honourable man borne to earth by odds, if his single arm could help him. Such, at least, is the lesson we were taught in chivalry, at the Castle of Avenel.”
”The good seed hath fallen into good ground, young man,” said Seyton; ”but, alas! if thou practise such honourable war in these dishonourable days, when right is every where borne down by mastery, thy life, my poor boy, will be but a short one.”
”Let it be short, so it be honourable,” said Roland Graeme; ”and permit me now, my lord, to commend me to your grace, and to take my leave. A comrade waits with my horse in the street.”
”Take this, however, young man,” said Lord Seyton, [Footnote: George, fifth Lord Seton, was immovably faithful to Queen Mary during all the mutabilities of her fortune. He was grand master of the household, in which capacity he had a picture painted of himself, with his official baton, and the following motto: In adversitate, patiens; In prosperitate, benevolus. Hazard, yet forward.