Part 44 (1/2)
CHAPTER THE THIRTY-FIRST.
”Were my son William here but now, He wadna fail the pledge.”
Wi' that in at the door there ran A ghastly-looking page- ”I saw them, master, O! I saw, Beneath the thornie brae, Of black-mail'd warriors many a rank; 'Revenge!' he cried, 'and gae.'”
HENRY MACKENZIE.
The little party at the Lodge were a.s.sembled at supper, at the early hour of eight o'clock. Sir Henry Lee, neglecting the food that was placed on the table, stood by a lamp on the chimney-piece, and read a letter with mournful attention.
”Does my son write to you more particularly than to me, Doctor Rochecliffe?” said the knight. ”He only says here, that he will return probably this night; and that Master Kerneguy must be ready to set off with him instantly. What can this haste mean? Have you heard of any new search after our suffering party? I wish they would permit me to enjoy my son's company in quiet but for a day.”
”The quiet which depends on the wicked ceasing from troubling,” said Dr. Rochecliffe, ”is connected, not by days and hours, but by minutes. Their glut of blood at Worcester had satiated them for a moment, but their appet.i.te, I fancy, has revived.”
”You have news, then, to that purpose?” said Sir Henry.
”Your son,” replied the Doctor, ”wrote to me by the same messenger: he seldom fails to do so, being aware of what importance it is that I should know every thing that pa.s.ses. Means of escape are provided on the coast, and Master Kerneguy must be ready to start with your son the instant he appears.”
”It is strange,” said the knight; ”for forty years I have dwelt in this house, man and boy, and the point only was how to make the day pa.s.s over our heads; for if I did not scheme out some hunting match or hawking, or the like, I might have sat here on my arm-chair, as undisturbed as a sleeping dormouse, from one end of the year to the other; and now I am more like a hare on her form, that dare not sleep unless with her eyes open, and scuds off when the wind rustles among the fern.”
”It is strange,” said Alice, looking at Dr. Rochecliffe, ”that the roundhead steward has told you nothing of this. He is usually communicative enough of the motions of his party; and I saw you close together this morning.”
”I must be closer with him this evening,” said the Doctor gloomily; ”but he will not blab.”
”I wish you may not trust him too much,” said Alice in reply.-”To me, that man's face, with all its shrewdness, evinces such a dark expression, that methinks I read treason in his very eye.”
”Be a.s.sured, that matter is looked to,” answered the Doctor, in the same ominous tone as before. No one replied, and there was a chilling and anxious feeling of apprehension which seemed to sink down on the company at once, like those sensations which make such const.i.tutions as are particularly subject to the electrical influence, conscious of an approaching thunder-storm.
The disguised Monarch, apprised that day to be prepared on short notice to quit his temporary asylum, felt his own share of the gloom which involved the little society. But he was the first also to shake it off, as what neither suited his character nor his situation. Gaiety was the leading distinction of the former, and presence of mind, not depression of spirits, was required by the latter.
”We make the hour heavier,” he said, ”by being melancholy about it. Had you not better join me, Mistress Alice, in Patrick Carey's jovial farewell?-Ah, you do not know Pat Carey-a younger brother of Lord Falkland's?”
”A brother of the immortal Lord Falkland's, and write songs!” said the Doctor.
”Oh, Doctor, the Muses take t.i.the as well as the Church,” said Charles, ”and have their share in every family of distinction. You do not know the words, Mistress Alice, but you can aid me, notwithstanding, in the burden at least-
'Come, now that we're parting, and 'tis one to ten If the towers of sweet Woodstock I e'er see agen, Let us e'en have a frolic, and drink like tall men, While the goblet goes merrily round.'”
The song arose, but not with spirit. It was one of those efforts at forced mirth, by which, above all other modes of expressing it, the absence of real cheerfulness is most distinctly animated. Charles stopt the song, and upbraided the choristers.
”You sing, my dear Mistress Alice, as if you were chanting one of the seven penitential psalms; and you, good Doctor, as if you recited the funeral service.”
The Doctor rose hastily from the table, and turned to the window; for the expression connected singularly with the task which he was that evening to discharge. Charles looked at him with some surprise; for the peril in which he lived, made him watchful of the slightest motions of those around him-then turned to Sir Henry, and said, ”My honoured host, can you tell any reason for this moody fit, which has so strangely crept upon us all?”
”Not I, my dear Louis,” replied the knight; ”I have no skill in these nice quillets of philosophy. I could as soon undertake to tell you the reason why Bevis turns round three times before he lies down. I can only say for myself, that if age and sorrow and uncertainty be enough to break a jovial spirit, or at least to bend it now and then, I have my share of them all; so that I, for one, cannot say that I am sad merely because I am not merry. I have but too good cause for sadness. I would I saw my son, were it but for a minute.”
Fortune seemed for once disposed to gratify the old man; for Albert Lee entered at that moment. He was dressed in a riding suit, and appeared to have travelled hard. He cast his eye hastily around as he entered. It rested for a second on that of the disguised Prince, and, satisfied with the glance which he received in lieu, he hastened, after the fas.h.i.+on of the olden day, to kneel down to his father, and request his blessing.
”It is thine, my boy,” said the old man; a tear springing to his eyes as he laid his hand on the long locks, which distinguished the young cavalier's rank and principles, and which, usually combed and curled with some care, now hung wild and dishevelled about his shoulders. They remained an instant in this posture, when the old man suddenly started from it, as if ashamed of the emotion which he had expressed before so many witnesses, and pa.s.sing the back of his hand hastily across his eyes, bid Albert get up and mind his supper, ”since I dare say you have ridden fast and far since you last baited-and we'll send round a cup to his health, if Doctor Rochecliffe and the company pleases-Joceline, thou knave, skink about-thou look'st as if thou hadst seen a ghost.”
”Joceline,” said Alice, ”is sick for sympathy-one of the stags ran at Phoebe Mayflower to-day, and she was fain to have Joceline's a.s.sistance to drive the creature off-the girl has been in fits since she came home.”
”Silly s.l.u.t,” said the old knight-”She a woodman's daughter!-But, Joceline, if the deer gets dangerous, you must send a broad arrow through him.”