While these lover-like thoughts were passing through his brain, the armourer loitered in his pace, often turning his eyes eastward, and eyeing the firmament, in which no slight shades of grey were beginning to flicker, to announce the approach of dawn, however distant, which, to the impatience of the stout armourer, seemed on that morning to abstain longer than usual from occupying her eastern barbican. He was now passing slowly under the wall of St. Annes Chapel (not failing to cross himself and say an ace, as he trode the consecrated ground), when a voice, which seemed to come from behind one of the flying buttresses of the chapel, said, He lingers that has need to run.
Who speaks? said the armourer, looking around him, somewhat startled at an address so unexpected, both in its tone and tenor.
No matter who speaks, answered the same voice. Do thou make great speed, or thou wilt scarce make good speed. Bandy not words, but begone.
Saint or sinner, angel or devil, said Henry, crossing himself, your advice touches me but too dearly to be neglected. St. Valentine be my speed!
So saying, he instantly changed his loitering pace to one with which few people could have kept up, and in an instant was in Couvrefew Street. He had not made three steps towards Simon Glovers, which stood in the midst of the narrow street, when two men started from under the houses on different sides, and advanced, as it were by concert, to intercept his passage. The imperfect light only permitted him to discern that they wore the Highland mantle.
Clear the way, cateran, said the armourer, in the deep stern voice which corresponded with the breadth of his chest.
They did not answer, at least intelligibly; but he could see that they drew their swords, with the purpose of withstanding him by violence. Conjecturing some evil, but of what kind he could not anticipate, Henry instantly determined to make his way through whatever odds, and defend his mistress, or at least die at her feet. He cast his cloak over his left arm as a buckler, and advanced rapidly and steadily to the two men. The nearest made a thrust at him, but Henry Smith, parrying the blow with his cloak, dashed his arm in the mans face, and tripping him at the same time, gave him a severe fall on the causeway; while almost at the same instant he struck a blow with his whinger at the fellow who was upon his right hand, so severely applied, that he also lay prostrate by his associate. Meanwhile, the armourer pushed forward in alarm, for which the circumstance of the street being guarded or defended by strangers who conducted themselves with such violence afforded sufficient reason. He heard a suppressed whisper and a bustle under the glovers windows those very windows from which he had expected to be hailed by Catharine as her Valentine. He kept to the opposite side of the street, that he might reconnoitre their number and purpose. But one of the party who were beneath the window, observing or hearing him, crossed the street also, and taking him doubtless for one of the sentinels, asked, in a whisper, What noise was yonder, Kenneth? why gave you not the signal?
Villain, said Henry, you are discovered, and you shall die the death.
As he spoke thus, he dealt the stranger a blow with his weapon, which would probably have made his words good, had not the man, raising his arm, received on his hand the blow meant for his head. The wound must have been a severe one, for he staggered and fell with a deep groan.
Without noticing him farther, Henry Smith sprung forward upon a party of men who seemed engaged in placing a ladder against the lattice window in the gable. Henry did not stop ether to count their numbers or to ascertain their purpose. But, crying the alarm word of the town, and giving the signal at which the burghers were wont to collect, he rushed on the night walkers, one of whom was in the act of ascending the ladder. The smith seized it by the rounds, threw it down on the pavement, and placing his foot on the body of the man who had been mounting, prevented him from regaining his feet. His accomplices struck fiercely at Henry, to extricate their companion. But his mail coat stood him in good stead, and he repaid their blows with interest, shouting aloud, Help help, for bonny St. Johnston! Bows and blades, brave citizens! bows and blades! they break into our houses under cloud of night.
These words, which resounded far through the streets, were accompanied by as many fierce blows, dealt with good effect among those whom the armourer assailed. In the mean time, the inhabitants of the district began to awaken and appear on the street in their shirts, with swords and targets, and some of them with torches. The assailants now endeavoured to make their escape, which all of them effected excepting the man who had been thrown down along with the ladder. Him the intrepid armourer had caught by the throat in the scuffle, and held as fast as the greyhound holds the hare. The other wounded men were borne off by their comrades.
Here are a sort of knaves breaking peace within burgh, said Henry to the neighbours who began to assemble; make after the rogues. They cannot all get off, for I have maimed some of them: the blood will guide you to them.
Some Highland caterans, said the citizens; up and chase, neighbours!
Ay, chase chase! leave me to manage this fellow, continued the armourer.
The assistants dispersed in different directions, their lights flashing and their cries resounding through the whole adjacent district.
In the mean time the armourers captive entreated for freedom, using both promises and threats to obtain it. As thou art a gentleman, he said, let me go, and what is past shall be forgiven.
I am no gentleman, said Henry I am Hal of the Wynd, a burgess of Perth; and I have done nothing to need forgiveness.
Villain, then hast done thou knowest not what! But let me go, and I will fill thy bonnet with gold pieces.
I shall fill thy bonnet with a cloven head presently, said the armourer, unless thou stand still as a true prisoner.
What is the matter, my son Harry? said Simon, who now appeared at the window. I hear thy voice in another tone than I expected. What is all this noise; and why are the neighbours gathering to the affray?
There have been a proper set of limmers about to scale your windows, father Simon; but I am like to prove godfather to one of them, whom I hold here, as fast as ever vice held iron.
Hear me, Simon Glover, said the prisoner; let me but speak one word with you in private, and rescue me from the gripe of this iron fisted and leaden pated clown, and I will show thee that no harm was designed to thee or thine, and, moreover, tell thee what will much advantage thee.
I should know that voice, said Simon Glover, who now came to the door with a dark lantern in his hand. Son Smith, let this young man speak with me. There is no danger in him, I promise you. Stay but an instant where you are, and let no one enter the house, either to attack or defend. I will be answerable that this galliard meant but some St. Valentines jest.
So saying, the old man pulled in the prisoner and shut the door, leaving Henry a little surprised at the unexpected light in which his father-in-law had viewed the affray.
A jest! he said; it might have been a strange jest, if they had got into the maidens sleeping room! And they would have done so, had it not been for the honest friendly voice from betwixt the buttresses, which, if it were not that of the blessed saint though what am I that the holy person should speak to me? could not sound in that place without her permission and assent, and for which I will promise her a wax candle at her shrine, as long as my whinger; and I would I had had my two handed broadsword instead, both for the sake of St. Johnston and of the rogues, for of a certain those whingers are pretty toys, but more fit for a boys hand than a mans. Oh, my old two handed Trojan, hadst thou been in my hands, as thou hangst presently at the tester of my bed, the legs of those rogues had not carried their bodies so clean off the field. But there come lighted torches and drawn swords. So ho stand! Are you for St. Johnston? If friends to the bonny burgh, you are well come.
We have been but bootless hunters, said the townsmen. We followed by the tracks of the blood into the Dominican burial ground, and we started two fellows from amongst the tombs, supporting betwixt them a third, who had probably got some of your marks about him, Harry. They got to the postern gate before we could overtake them, and rang the sanctuary bell; the gate opened, and in went they. So they are safe in girth and sanctuary, and we may go to our cold beds and warm us.
Ay, said one of the party, the good Dominicans have always some devout brother of their convent sitting up to open the gate of the sanctuary to any poor soul that is in trouble, and desires shelter in the church.
Yes, if the poor hunted soul can pay for it, said another but, truly, if he be poor in purse as well as in spirit, he may stand on the outside till the hounds come up with him.
A third, who had been poring for a few minutes upon the ground by advantage of his torch, now looked upwards and spoke. He was a brisk, forward, rather corpulent little man, called Oliver Proudfute, reasonably wealthy, and a leading man in his craft, which was that of bonnet makers; he, therefore, spoke as one in authority.
Canst tell us, jolly smith for they recognised each other by the lights which were brought into the streets what manner of fellows they were who raised up this fray within burgh?
The two that I first saw, answered the armourer, seemed to me, as well as I could observe them, to have Highland plaids about them.
Like enough like enough, answered another citizen, shaking his head. Its a shame the breaches in our walls are not repaired, and that these landlouping Highland scoundrels are left at liberty to take honest men and women out of their beds any night that is dark enough.
But look here, neighbours, said Oliver Proudfute, showing a bloody hand which he had picked up from the ground; when did such a hand as this tie a Highlandmans brogues? It is large, indeed, and bony, but as fine as a ladys, with a ring that sparkles like a gleaming candle. Simon Glover has made gloves for this hand before now, if I am not much mistaken, for he works for all the courtiers.
The spectators here began to gaze on the bloody token with various comments.
If that is the case, said one, Harry Smith had best show a clean pair of heels for it, since the justiciar will scarce think the protecting a burgesss house an excuse for cutting off a gentlemans hand. There be hard laws against mutilation.
Fie upon you, that you will say so, Michael Webster, answered the bonnet maker; are we not representatives and successors of the stout old Romans, who built Perth as like to their own city as they could? And have we not charters from all our noble kings and progenitors, as being their loving liegemen? And would you have us now yield up our rights, privileges, and immunities, our outfang and infang, our handhaband, our back bearand, and our blood suits, and amerciaments, escheats, and commodities, and suffer an honest burgesss house to be assaulted without seeking for redress? No, brave citizens, craftsmen, and burgesses, the Tay shall flow back to Dunkeld before we submit to such injustice!
And how can we help it? said a grave old man, who stood leaning on a two handed sword. What would you have us do?
Marry, Bailie Craigdallie, I wonder that you, of all men, ask the question. I would have you pass like true men from this very place to the Kings Graces presence, raise him from his royal rest, and presenting to him the piteous case of our being called forth from our beds at this season, with little better covering than these shirts, I would show him this bloody token, and know from his Graces own royal lips whether it is just and honest that his loving lieges should be thus treated by the knights and nobles of his deboshed court. And this I call pushing our cause warmly.
Warmly, sayst thou? replied the old burgess; why, so warmly, that we shall all die of cold, man, before the porter turn a key to let us into the royal presence. Come, friends, the night is bitter, we have kept our watch and ward like men, and our jolly smith hath given a warning to those that would wrong us, which shall be worth twenty proclamations of the king. Tomorrow is a new day; we will consult on this matter on this self same spot, and consider what measures should be taken for discovery and pursuit of the villains. And therefore let us dismiss before the hearts blood freeze in our veins.
Bravo bravo, neighbour Craigdallie! St. Johnston for ever!
Oliver Proudfute would still have spoken; for he was one of those pitiless orators who think that their eloquence can overcome all inconveniences in time, place, and circumstances. But no one would listen, and the citizens dispersed to their own houses by the light of the dawn, which began now to streak the horizon.
They were scarce gone ere the door of the glovers house opened, and seizing the smith by the hand, the old man pulled him in.
Where is the prisoner? demanded the armourer.
He is gone escaped fled what do I know of him? said the glover. He got out at the back door, and so through the little garden. Think not of him, but come and see the Valentine whose honour and life you have saved this morning.
Let me but sheathe my weapon, said the smith, let me but wash my hands.
There is not an instant to lose, she is up and almost dressed. Come on, man. She shall see thee with thy good weapon in thy hand, and with villains blood on thy fingers, that she may know what is the value of a true mans service. She has stopped my mouth overlong with her pruderies and her scruples. I will have her know what a brave mans love is worth, and a bold burgesss to boot.
CHAPTER V
Up! lady fair, and braid thy hair,
And rouse thee in the breezy air,
Up! quit thy bower, late wears the hour,
Long have the rooks cawd round the tower.
Startled from her repose by the noise of the affray, the Fair Maid of Perth had listened in breathless terror to the sounds of violence and outcry which arose from the street. She had sunk on her knees to pray for assistance, and when she distinguished the voices of neighbours and friends collected for her protection, she remained in the same posture to return thanks. She was still kneeling when her father almost thrust her champion, Henry Smith, into her apartment; the bashful lover hanging back at first, as if afraid to give offence, and, on observing her posture, from respect to her devotion.
Father, said the armourer, she prays; I dare no more speak to her than to a bishop when he says mass.
Now, go thy ways, for a right valiant and courageous blockhead, said her father and then speaking to his daughter, he added, Heaven is best thanked, my daughter, by gratitude shown to our fellow creatures. Here comes the instrument by whom God has rescued thee from death, or perhaps from dishonour worse than death. Receive him, Catharine, as thy true Valentine, and him whom I desire to see my affectionate son.
Not thus father, replied Catharine. I can see can speak to no one now. I am not ungrateful perhaps I am too thankful to the instrument of our safety; but let me thank the guardian saint who sent me this timely relief, and give me but a moment to don my kirtle.
Nay, God-a-mercy, wench, it were hard to deny thee time to busk thy body clothes, since the request is the only words like a woman that thou hast uttered for these ten days. Truly, son Harry, I would my daughter would put off being entirely a saint till the time comes for her being canonised for St. Catherine the Second.