Volume Ii Part 20 (1/2)
”I ground my pledge again, and I take thee,” said my master. But now the old woman came running between them, crying out, ”Deil be i' your teeth!
deil be i' your teeth! Tak a' that's i' the house an' haud you wi't: there are the keys; there are the keys! deil be i' your teeth, take a'--and let us alane o' your din.” The Gorb waved the keys aside with his arm in high indignation; but the wife clung to her point. ”I take you a' witnesses,” cried she, ”I take you a' witnesses, I have offered him the keys, and he has refused them. Here, young Gorb; young hing-by-the-gut, take ye them, take ye them. Deil be i' your teeth, take a' that's i' the house.”
I took the keys lest they should be forgot in the hurry; the two old fellows took to the field with sword and buckler, while both the old dame and her son John strove to interfere; but the old yeoman silenced them both with a word, and I thought he would have struck his son down with the sword, so much was he enraged at his behaviour.
I had seen much sword play by this time in the way of amus.e.m.e.nt, or lesson-taking; but I had never seen two men meet in deadly foil, and I trembled for the event; for I judged, that if the old Gorb was killed, it would fare hardly with me, being conscious that I was the moving cause of the combat. My master's demeanour was altogether inimitable. He went through every thing as if it had been a matter of mere ceremony, first slipping gracefully to one side, crossing his hands on his breast, bowing profoundly, and then shaking hands with Latchie: then swimming gracefully to the other side, and repeating the same manoeuvre. Last of all, he wheeled about, cut some wild flourishes with his sword, and took his distance. The yeoman bit his lip, and appeared to be viewing all these things with disdain; but he set himself firm on his legs with his left foot foremost, and setting up his broad bonnet before, waited the onset. The Gorb on the contrary advanced with his right foot foremost; and, instead of availing himself of the buckler as the former did, he came forward bearing it up behind him as high as his head. He seemed to wear it merely because the other did, but he was too proud to make any use of it. Nothing ever did, or ever will exceed the singularity of that combat: the figures of the men, and their manner of fighting, being so different. Latchie was short and squat, the Gorb somewhat like the skeleton of a giant. The art of fighting which the former pursued was to s.h.i.+eld himself behind his broad buckler, peep over it, and now and then make dreadful blows around it with the full swing of his body, as if he meant to cut my master through the middle, or shear off both his thighs.
On such occasions the Gorb, beside parrying the stroke, made such tremendous springs off at a side, that he rather appeared like a spirit than any thing of bones, sinews, and blood, for as to flesh there was none on him; and at every one of these leaps he uttered a loud ”Hoh!” as if he had been mortally wounded, or in great danger of having been so; yet all the while his face was so sublimely grave and serious as if every movement were to have been his last. He never attempted to hit the yeoman, and had apparently no other aim in fighting, than merely to show his dexterity in fencing, retreating, and advancing. I deemed that all was over with him, and began to be mortally afraid of myself; and any man would have acknowledged what good reason I had, if he had witnessed with what looks the wife and son regarded me. Every one of them thought the Gorb had the worst of it, and that the farmer was sure of the day.
Indeed by this time there was little doubt of it. The old wife thrice clapped her hands, and screamed out, ”Weel proven, goodman! that gars him scamper? Weel proven, Daniel Maclatchie! Lie to the breastleather.”
At these words I began to look over my shoulder, and meditate a most strenuous flight. But now the most novel scene of all occurred: my master still continued to change his ground, and to skip and fly about, until at length the yeoman, encouraged by his wife's words, came hard upon him, and, heaving up his s.h.i.+eld a little, he came with a deadly stroke round below it, ettling to cut off both my master's legs. ”Hoh!”
cried the Gorb, as loud as he could vociferate; and as the little squat yeoman stooped to the stroke, he made such a spring into the air that he leaped fairly over his head; and as he pa.s.sed like a meteor over above him, he gave him such a slap with the broad side of his sword on the hind cants of the head, that it made the farmer run forward and fall with his nose on the ground. He was again on his feet, however, in an instant, and faced about, while his eyes streamed with water from the sharpness of the stroke. This feat astonished the Latchies; but the wife cried out, ”A barley! a barley! foul play!--he's fighting on springs.”
”Emblem true of thy accursed country!” cried the Gorb, and kicking off his sandals at her head, he took his ground on his bare soles. The combatants set to it again; but the yeoman was now on his guard, and fought shy, standing on the defensive. My master soon grew tired of this way of fighting; and, after two or three flying feints at an attack, in a moment he wrenched Latchie's sword from his grasp, and threw it into the air like a sling-stone. The lookers on gazed in amazement,--and the astonished yeoman traced the course of his erratic weapon, which, after forming an arch like a rainbow, lighted at the distance of forty yards.
John, the farmer's son, was the first who ventured a remark on the phenomenon, which he did with his accustomed shrewdness, and in the c.u.mberland brogue, which he had learned by living some years in that district.
”Feyther, I thinks thou hast thrown away thee swoard.”
”Ay,” said his father, biting his lip, and looking after it.
By this time the Gorb had his sword at Latchie's throat, crying, ”Rescue, or no rescue, I say? Yield, traitor, or die.”
Latchie paid no regard to him. He only bit his lip, looked after his sword, and stood his ground firm without moving, showing a most unyielding and dauntless spirit.
The Gorb repeated his threat, but the yeoman paid no further attention to it than before.
”What an unlucky accident!” said he. ”Had I not thrown away my sword, I would have humbled you.”
”Do you regret the loss of your sword so much?” said the Gorb. ”Will you promise, on the honour of a good yeoman, not to throw it away in like manner again?”
”Promise?” said the other: ”I will swear on it, and by it, never to part with it in like manner again.”
”Young man,” said my master to me, ”run and bring me this brave yeoman's sword.”
I brought it, and he took it by the point, and delivered it back to the owner with all manner of courtesy. Latchie took it in his hand, and let the point of it slant towards the ground in token of submission.
”Nay, nay, I deliver it,” cried my master. ”I would not see such a man show fear or pusillanimity for any thing. Exchange me three times three, and no more; and G.o.d stand by the right. I counsel thee, moreover, to a.s.sume thy best defence, as I propose to do thee all manner of injury.”
”So be it. I defy you still,” said Latchie, and took his ground a second time. His wife and son spoke a great deal by way of interference, but were totally disregarded. The combat began again with more fury than ever; but at the second or third time of crossing their weapons, Daniel Maclatchie's sword betook itself again into the firmament, and after tracing nearly the same course as formerly, alighted on the same spot.
”You are the devil and none else,” said Latchie, ”and I yield to my conqueror. I am at your disposal.”
”And I will use my advantage, as in duty and in honour bound,” said the Gorb: ”Rise up my friend and brother; you are a man of true genuine spirit. I honour you, and I estimate your country more this morning, for your sake, than I have hitherto done. I claim your friends.h.i.+p as a brother in arms. You shall not have cause to repent this spirited encounter.”
The farmer was greatly flattered by this speech. I gave up the keys; and there was no end of kindness and endearment between the two old fellows.
We had our rasher on the coals; and I think I have scarcely risen from a better diet than I did that day. I got the greater part to myself, for the rest were all so busy talking and drinking cold ale, that they hardly thought of the bacon. It was nicely toasted, and the fat stood on it like small drops of honey. But I must not dwell on the recollection else I shall faint.