The Abbot - Вальтер Скотт 10 стр.

Oh, foy! foy! foy! reiterated the steward; servants should hear and see, and say nothing. Besides that, my lady is utterly devoted to Sir Halbert, as well she may, being, as he is, the most renowned knight in these parts.

Well, well, said the abigail, I mean no more harm; but they that seek least renown abroad, are most apt to find quiet at home, thats all; and my Ladys lonesome situation is to be considered, that made her fain to take up with the first beggars brat that a dog brought her out of the loch.

And, therefore, said the steward, I say, rejoice not too much, or too hastily, Mistress Lilias; for if your Lady wished a favourite to pass away the time, depend upon it, the time will not pass lighter now that he is gone. So she will have another favourite to choose for herself; and be assured, if she wishes such a toy, she will not lack one.

And where should she choose one, but among her own tried and faithful servants, said Mrs. Lilias, who have broken her bread, and drunk her drink, for so many years? I have known many a lady as high as she is, that never thought either of a friend or favourite beyond their own waiting-woman always having a proper respect, at the same time, for their old and faithful master of the household, Master Wingate.

Truly, Mistress Lilias, replied the steward, I do partly see the mark at which you shoot, but I doubt your bolt will fall short. Matters being with our Lady as it likes you to suppose, it will neither be your crimped pinners, Mrs. Lilias, (speaking of them with due respect,) nor my silver hair, or golden chain, that will fill up the void which Roland Graeme must needs leave in our Ladys leisure. There will be a learned young divine with some new doctrine a learned leech with some new drug a bold cavalier, who will not be refused the favour of wearing her colours at a running at the ring a cunning harper that could harp the heart out of womans breast, as they say Signer David Rizzio did to our poor Queen; these are the sort of folk who supply the loss of a well-favoured favourite, and not an old steward, or a middle-aged waiting-woman.

Well, replied Lilias, you have experience, Master Wingate, and truly I would my master would leave off his picking hither and thither, and look better after the affairs of his household. There will be a papestrie among us next, for what should I see among masters clothes but a string of gold beads! I promise you, aves and credos both!  I seized on them like a falcon.

I doubt it not, I doubt it not, said the steward, sagaciously nodding his head; I have often noticed that the boy had strange observances which savoured of popery, and that he was very jealous to conceal them. But you will find the Catholic under the Presbyterian cloak as often as the knave under the Friars hood what then? we are all mortal Right proper beads they are, he added, looking attentively at them, and may weigh four ounces of fine gold.

And I will have them melted down presently, she said, before they be the misguiding of some poor blinded soul.

Very cautious, indeed, Mistress Lilias, said the steward, nodding his head in assent.

I will have them made, said Mrs. Lilias, into a pair of shoe-buckles; I would not wear the Popes trinkets, or whatever has once borne the shape of them, one inch above my instep, were they diamonds instead of gold.  But this is what has come of Father Ambrose coming about the castle, as demure as a cat that is about to steal cream.

Father Ambrose is our masters brother, said the steward gravely.

Very true, Master Wingate, answered the Dame; but is that a good reason why he should pervert the kings liege subjects to papistrie?

Heaven forbid, Mistress Lilias, answered the sententious major-domo; but yet there are worse folk than the Papists.

I wonder where they are to be found, said the waiting-woman, with some asperity; but I believe, Master Wingate, if one were to speak to you about the devil himself, you would say there were worse people than Satan.

Assuredly I might say so, replied the steward, supposing that I saw Satan standing at my elbow.

The waiting-woman started, and having exclaimed, God bless us! added, I wonder, Master Wingate, you can take pleasure in frightening one thus.

Nay, Mistress Lilias, I had no such purpose, was the reply; but look you here the Papists are but put down for the present, but who knows how long this word present will last? There are two great Popish earls in the north of England, that abominate the very word reformation; I mean the Northumberland and Westmoreland Earls, men of power enough to shake any throne in Christendom. Then, though our Scottish king be, God bless him, a true Protestant, yet he is but a boy; and here is his mother that was our queen I trust there is no harm to say, God bless her too and she is a Catholic; and many begin to think she has had but hard measure, such as the Hamiltons in the west, and some of our Border clans here, and the Gordons in the north, who are all wishing to see a new world; and if such a new world should chance to come up, it is like that the Queen will take back her own crown, and that the mass and the cross will come up, and then down go pulpits, Geneva-gowns, and black silk skull-caps.

And have you, Master Jasper Wingate, who have heard the word, and listened unto pure and precious Mr. Henry Warden, have you, I say, the patience to speak, or but to think, of popery coming down on us like a storm, or of the woman Mary again making the royal seat of Scotland a throne of abomination? No marvel that you are so civil to the cowled monk, Father Ambrose, when he comes hither with his downcast eyes that he never raises to my Ladys face, and with his low sweet-toned voice, and his benedicites, and his benisons; and who so ready to take them kindly as Master Wingate?

Mistress Lilias, replied the butler, with an air which was intended to close the debate, there are reasons for all things. If I received Father Ambrose debonairly, and suffered him to steal a word now and then with this same Roland Graeme, it was not that I cared a brass bodle for his benison or malison either, but only because I respected my masters blood. And who can answer, if Mary come in again, whether he may not be as stout a tree to lean to as ever his brother hath proved to us? For down goes the Earl of Murray when the Queen comes by her own again; and good is his luck if he can keep the head on his own shoulders. And down goes our Knight, with the Earl, his patron; and who so like to mount into his empty saddle as this same Father Ambrose? The Pope of Rome can so soon dispense with his vows, and then we should have Sir Edward the soldier, instead of Ambrose the priest.

Anger and astonishment kept Mrs. Lilias silent,  while her old friend, in his self-complacent manner, was making known to her his political speculations. At length her resentment found utterance in words of great ire and scorn. What, Master Wingate! have you eaten my mistresss bread, to say nothing of my masters, so many years, that you could live to think of her being dispossessed of her own Castle of Avenel, by a wretched monk, who is not a drops blood to her in the way of relation? I, that am but a woman, would try first whether my rock or his cowl was the better metal. Shame on you, Master Wingate! I If I had not held you as so old an acquaintance, this should have gone to my Ladys ears though I had been called pickthank and tale-pyet for my pains, as when I told of Roland Graeme shooting the wild swan.

Master Wingate was somewhat dismayed at perceiving, that the details which he had given of his far-sighted political views had produced on his hearer rather suspicion of his fidelity, than admiration of his wisdom, and endeavoured, as hastily as possible, to apologize and to explain, although internally extremely offended at the unreasonable view, as he deemed it, which it had pleased Mistress Lilias Bradbourne to take of his expressions; and mentally convinced that her disapprobation of his sentiments arose solely out of the consideration, that though Father Ambrose, supposing him to become the master of the castle, would certainly require the services of a steward, yet those of a waiting-woman would, in the supposed circumstances, be altogether superfluous.

After his explanation had been received as explanations usually are, the two friends separated; Lilias to attend the silver whistle which called her to her mistresss chamber, and the sapient major-domo to the duties of his own department. They parted with less than their usual degree of reverence and regard; for the steward felt that his worldly wisdom was rebuked by the more disinterested attachment of the waiting-woman, and Mistress Lilias Bradbourne was compelled to consider her old friend as something little better than a time-server.

Chapter the Seventh

While the departure of the page afforded subject for the conversation which we have detailed in our last chapter, the late favourite was far advanced on his solitary journey, without well knowing what was its object, or what was likely to be its end. He had rowed the skiff in which he left the castle, to the side of the lake most distant from the village, with the desire of escaping from the notice of the inhabitants. His pride whispered, that he would be in his discarded state, only the subject of their wonder and compassion; and his generosity told him, that any mark of sympathy which his situation should excite, might be unfavourably reported at the castle. A trifling incident convinced him he had little to fear for his friends on the latter score. He was met by a young man some years older than himself, who had on former occasions been but too happy to be permitted to share in his sports in the subordinate character of his assistant. Ralph Fisher approached to greet him, with all the alacrity of an humble friend.

What, Master Roland, abroad on this side, and without either hawk or hound?

Hawk or hound, said Roland, I will never perhaps hollo to again. I have been dismissed that is, I have left the castle.

Ralph was surprised. What! you are to pass into the Knights service, and take the black jack and the lance?

Indeed, replied Roland Graeme, I am not I am now leaving the service of Avenel for ever.

And whither are you going, then? said the young peasant.

Nay, that is a question which it craves time to answer I have that matter to determine yet, replied the disgraced favourite.

Nay, nay, said Ralph, I warrant you it is the same to you which way you go my Lady would not dismiss you till she had put some lining into the pouches of your doublet.

Sordid slave! said Roland Graeme, dost thou think I would have accepted a boon from one who was giving me over a prey to detraction and to ruin, at the instigation of a canting priest and a meddling serving-woman? The bread that I had bought with such an alms would have choked me at the first mouthful.

Ralph looked at his quondam friend with an air of wonder not unmixed with contempt. Well, he said, at length, no occasion for passion each man knows his own stomach best but, were I on a black moor at this time of day, not knowing whither I was going, I should be glad to have a broad piece or two in my pouch, come by them as I could.  But perhaps you will go with me to my fathers that is, for a night, for to-morrow we expect my uncle Menelaus and all his folk; but, as I said, for one night

The cold-blooded limitation of the offered shelter to one night only, and that tendered most unwillingly, offended the pride of the discarded favourite.

I would rather sleep on the fresh heather, as I have done many a night on less occasion, said Roland Graeme, than in the smoky garret of your father, that smells of peat smoke and usquebaugh like a Highlanders plaid.

You may choose, my master, if you are so nice, replied Ralph Fisher; you may be glad to smell a peat-fire, and usquebaugh too, if you journey long in the fashion you propose. You might have said God-a-mercy for your proffer, though it is not every one that will put themselves in the way of ill-will by harbouring a discarded serving-man.

Ralph, said Roland Graeme, I would pray you to remember that I have switched you before now, and this is the same riding-wand which you have tasted.

Ralph, who was a thickset clownish figure, arrived at his full strength, and conscious of the most complete personal superiority, laughed contemptuously at the threats of the slight-made stripling.

It may be the same wand, he said, but not the same hand; and that is as good rhyme as if it were in a ballad. Look you, my Ladys page that was, when your switch was up, it was no fear of you, but of your betters, that kept mine down and I wot not what hinders me from clearing old scores with this hazel rung, and showing you it was your Ladys livery-coat which I spared, and not your flesh and blood, Master Roland.

In the midst of his rage, Roland Graeme was just wise enough to see, that by continuing this altercation, he would subject himself to very rude treatment from the boor, who was so much older and stronger than himself; and while his antagonist, with a sort of jeering laugh of defiance, seemed to provoke the contest, he felt the full bitterness of his own degraded condition, and burst into a passion of tears, which he in vain endeavoured to conceal with both his hands.

Even the rough churl was moved with the distress of his quondam companion.

Nay, Master Roland, he said, I did but as twere jest with thee I would not harm thee, man, were it but for old acquaintance sake. But ever look to a mans inches ere you talk of switching why, thine arm, man, is but like a spindle compared to mine.  But hark, I hear old Adam Woodcock hollowing to his hawk Come along, man, we will have a merry afternoon, and go jollily to my fathers in spite of the peat-smoke and usquebaugh to boot. Maybe we may put you into some honest way of winning your bread, though its hard to come by in these broken times.

The unfortunate page made no answer, nor did he withdraw his hands from his face, and Fisher continued in what he imagined a suitable tone of comfort.

Why, man, when you were my Ladys minion, men held you proud, and some thought you a Papist, and I wot not what; and so, now that you have no one to bear you out, you must be companionable and hearty, and wait on the ministers examinations, and put these things out of folks head; and if he says you are in fault, you must jouk your head to the stream; and if a gentleman, or a gentlemans gentleman, give you a rough word, or a light blow, you must only say, thank you for dusting my doublet, or the like, as I have done by you.  But hark to Woodcocks whistle again. Come, and I will teach you all the trick ont as we go on.

I thank you, said Roland Graeme, endeavouring to assume an air of indifference and of superiority; but I have another path before me, and were it otherwise, I could not tread in yours.