The Caged Lion - Charlotte Yonge 5 стр.

Their devotions performed, they ventured back to the outer hall, and on their return being notified, they were again admitted.  Sir James, who had been seated on a stool by the sick mans head, immediately rose and resigned his place to Lilias, but did not leave the room and Sir David thus spoke: Bairns, God in His mercy hath raised you up the best of guardians in the stead of your ain poor Tutor.  Malcolm, laddie, you will ride the morn with this gentleman to the true head of your name, your ain King, whom God for ever bless!  His voice quivered.  And be it your study so to profit by his example and nurture, as to do your devoir by him for ever.

Nay, father, cried Malcolm, I cannot leave you and Lily.

If you call me father, do my bidding, said Sir David.  Lily can be safely bestowed with the good Sisters of St. Abbs, nor while you are out of Albanys reach is the poor lassie worth his molesting; but when I am gone, your uncles of Albany and Athole become your tutors, and the Prior has no power to save you.  Only over the Border with the King is there safety from them, and your ruin is the ruin of your sister.

And, added Sir James, when the King is at liberty, or when you yourself are of age, you will return to resume the charge of your fair sister, unless some nearer protector be found.  Meantime, he laid one hand on Malcolms head, and with the other took out the relic which had had so great an effect upon Walter Stewart, I swear on this holy Rood of St. Andrew, that Malcolm Stewart of Glenuskie shall be my charge, not merely as my kinsman, but as my young brother.

You hear, Malcolm, said Sir David.  You will strive to merit such goodness.

Father, broke out the poor boy again, you cannot mean to part us!  Let us abide as we have been till I am of age to take my vows!  I am not fit to serve the King.

He is the best judge of that, returned Sir James.

And, added Sir David, I tell you, lad, that I shall never be as I was before, and that were I a whole man and sain, riding back to Glenuskie the morn, I should still bless the saints and bid you gang.

Rarely did the youth of the fifteenth century venture to question the authority of an elder, but Malcolm was only silenced for a moment, and though by no means understanding that his guardian believed his injuries mortal, he threw himself upon the advice of the Prior, whom he entreated to allow him to judge for himself, and to remain to protect his sisterhe talked boldly of protecting her after this days exploit.  But Prior Akecliff gave him no more encouragement than did his uncle.  The Benedictine vows were out of the question till he should be eighteen, and the renunciation of the world they involved would be ruinous to Lilias, since she would become his heiress.  Moreover, the Prior himself was almost in a state of siege, for the Regent was endeavouring to intrude on the convent one Brother William Drake, or Drax, by his own nomination, instead of the canonical appointment emanating from Durham, and as national feeling went with the Regents nominee, it was by no means certain that the present Prior would be able to maintain his position.

Oh, go! yes, go, dear brother, entreated Lilias.  I should be far happier to know you in safety.  They cannot hurt me while you are safe.

But you, Lily!  What if this villain Drax have his way?

He could not harm her in St. Ebbas fold, returned the Prior.  The Abbess herself could not yield her; and, as you have so often been told, my young Lord, your absence is a far greater protection to your sister than your presence.  Moreover, were the Tutors mind at rest, there would be far better hope of his recovery.

There was no alternative, and Malcolm could not but submit.  Lilias was to be conducted before daybreak to the monastery of St. Abbs, about six miles off, whence she could be summoned at any time to be with her uncle in Coldingham; and Malcolm was to set off at daybreak with the captive knight, whose return to England could no longer be delayed.

Poor children! while Sir James Stewart was in the Priors chamber, they sat silent and mournful by the bedside where their guardian lay dozing, even till the bell for Matins summoned them in common with all the other inmates of the convent; they knelt on the floor of the candle-lit church, and held each others hands as they prayed; Lilias still the stronger and more hopeful, while Malcolm, as he looked up at those dear familiar vaultings, felt as if he were a bird driven from its calm peaceful nest to battle with the tossing winds and storms of ocean, without one near him whom he had learnt to love.

It was still dark when the service had ended, and Prior Akecliff came towards them.  Daughter, he said to Lilias, we deem it safer that you should ride to St. Abbs ere daylight.  Your palfrey is ready, the Mother Abbess is warned, and I will myself conduct you thither.

Priors were not people to be kept waiting, and as it was reported that the Tutor of Glenuskie was still asleep, Lilias had to depart without taking leave of him.  With Malcolm the last words were spoken while crossing the court.  Fear not, Lily; my heart will only weary till the Church owns me, and Patie has you.

Nay, my Malcolm; mayhap, as the Prior tells me, your strength and manhood will come in the south country.

Let them, said Malcolm; I will neither cheat the Church nor Patie.

It were no cheat.  There never was any compact.  Patie is winning his fortune by his own sword; he would scorn

Hush, Lily!  When the King sees what a weakling Sir James has brought him, he will be but too glad to exchange Patie for me, and leave me safe in these blessed walls.

But here they were under the archway, and the convoy of armed men, whom the exigencies of the time forced the convent to maintain, were already mounted.  Sir James stood ready to assist the lady to her saddle, and with one long earnest embrace the brother and sister were parted, and Lilias rode away with the Prior by her side, letting the tears flow quietly down her cheeks in the darkness, and but half hearing the long arguments by which good Father Akecliff was proving to her that the decision was the best for both Malcolm and herself.

By and by the dawn began to appear, the air of the March night became sharper, and in the distance the murmur and plash of the tide was heard.  Then, standing heavy and dark against the clear pale eastern sky, there arose the dark mass of St. Ebbas monastery, the parent of Coldingham, standing on the very verge of the cliff to which it has left the name of St. Abbs Head, upon ground which has since been undermined by the waves, and has been devoured by them.  The sea, far below, calmly brightened with the brightening sky, and reflected the morning stars in a lucid track of light, strong enough to make the lights glisten red in the convent windows.  Lilias was expected, was a frequent guest, and had many friends there, and as the sweet sound of the Lauds came from the chapel, and while she dismounted in the court the concluding Amen swelled and died away, she, though no convent bird, felt herself in a safe home and shelter under the wing of kind Abbess Annabel Drummond, and only mourned that Malcolm, so much tenderer and more shrinking than herself, should be driven into the unknown world that he dreaded so much more than she did.

CHAPTER III: HAL

The sun had not long been shining on the dark walls of St. Ebbas monastery, before the low-browed gate of Coldingham Priory opened to let pass the guests of the previous night.  Malcolm had been kissed and blessed by his guardian, and bidden to transfer his dutiful obedience to his new protector; and somewhat comforted by believing Sir David to be mending since last night, he had rent himself away, and was riding in the frosty morning air beside the kinsman who had so strangely taken charge of him, and accompanied by Sir Jamess tall old Scottish squire, by the English groom, and by Malcolms own servant, Halbert.

For a long space there was perfect silence: and as Malcolm began to detach his thoughts from all that he had left behind, he could not help being struck with the expressions that flitted over his companions countenance.  For a time he would seem lost in some deep mournful reverie, and his head drooped as if in sadness or perplexity; then a sudden gleam would light up his face, as if a brilliant project had occurred to him, his lips would part, his eyes flash, he would impel his horse forward as though leading a charge, or lift up his head with kindling looks, like one rehearsing a speech; but ever a check would come on him in the midst, his mouth closed in dejection, his brow drew together in an anguish of impatience, his eyelids drooped in weariness, and he would ride on in deep reflection, till roused perhaps by the flight of a moor-fowl, or the rush of a startled roe, he would hum some gay French hunting-song or plaintive Scottish ballad.

Scarcely a word had been uttered, until towards noon, on the borders of a little narrow valley, the merry sound of bells clashed up to their ears, and therewith sounds of music.  Tis the toon of Christs Kirk on the Green, said the squire, as Sir James looked at him for information, where we were to bait.  Methought in Lent we had been spared this gallimawfrey.

Tis Midlent week, you pagan, replied Sir James.  These good folk have come a-mothering, and a share of their simnels well have.

Sir, entreated the squire, were it not more prudent of you to tarry without, and let me fetch provisions?

Hoot, man, a throng is our best friend!  Besides, the horses must rest.

So saying, Sir James rode eagerly forward; Malcolm following, not without wonder at not having been consulted, for though kept in strict discipline by his uncle, it had always been with every courtesy due to his rank as a kings grandson; and the cousins, from whom he had suffered, were of the same rank with himself.  Did this wandering landless knight, now he had him in his power, mean to disregard all that was his due?  But when Sir James turned round his face sparkling with good-humour and amusement, and laughed as he said, Now then for the humours of a Scottish fair! all his offended dignity was forgotten.

The greensward was surrounded by small huts and hovels; a little old stone church on one side, and a hostel near it, shadowed by a single tall elm, beneath which was the very centre of the village wake.  Not only was it Midlent, but the day was the feast of a local saint, in whose honour Lenten requirements were relaxed.  Monks and priests were there in plenty, and so were jugglers and maskers, Robin Hood and Marion, glee-men and harpers, merchants and hucksters, masterful beggars and sorners, shepherds in gray mauds with wise collies at their feet, shrewd old carlines with their winters spinning of yarn, lean wolf-like borderers peaceable for the nonce, merry lasses with tow-like locks floating from their snoods, all seen by the intensely glittering sun of a clear March day, dry and not too cold for these hardy northern folk.

Nigel, the squire, sighed in despondency; and Malcolm, who hated crowds, and knew himself a mark for the rude observations of a free-spoken populace, shrank up to him, when Sir James, nodding in time to the tones of a bagpipe that was playing at the hostel door, flung his bridle to Brewster the groom, laughed at his glum and contemptuous looks, merrily hailed the gudewife with her brown face and big silver ear-rings, seated himself on the bench at the long wooden table under the great garland of fir-boughs, willow catkins, and primroses, hung over the boughs of the tree, crossed himself, murmured his Benedictus benedicat, drew his dagger, carved a slice of the haunch of ox on the table, offered it to the reluctant Malcolm, then helping himself, entered into conversation with the lean friar on one side of him, and the stalwart man-at-arms opposite, apparently as indifferent as the rest of the company to the fact that the uncovered boards of the table were the only trenchers, and the salt and mustard were taken by the point of each mans dagger from common receptacles dispersed along the board.  Probably the only person really disgusted or amazed was the English Brewster, who, though too cautious to express a word of his feelings, preserved the most complete silence, and could scarcely persuade himself to taste the rude fare.

Nor when the meal was over was Sir James disposed to heed the wistful looks of his attendants, but wandered off to watch the contest in archery at the butts, where arrow after arrow flew wide of the clout, for the strength of Scotland did not lie in the long-bow, and Albanys edict that shooting should be practised on Sundays and holidays had not produced as yet any great dexterity.

Sir James at first laughed merrily at the extraordinary screwings of visage and contortions of attitude, and the useless demonstration of effort with which the clowns aimed their shafts and drew their bow, sometimes to find the arrow on the grass at their feet, sometimes to see it producing consternation among the bystanders; but when he saw Brewster standing silently apart, viewing their efforts with a scorn visible enough in the dead stolidity of his countenance, he murmured a bitter interjection, and turned away with folded arms and frowning brow.

Nigel again urged their departure, but at that moment the sweet notes of a long narrative ballad began to sound to the accompaniment of a harp, and he stood motionless while the wild mournful ditty told of the cruelty of the Lady of Frendraught, and how

Large tears were dropping from under the hand with he veiled his emotion; and when Nigel touched his cloak to remind him that the horses were ready, he pressed the old mans hand, saying, with a sigh, I heard that last at my fathers knee!  It rung in my ears for many a year!  Here, lad! and dropping a gold coin into the wooden bowl carried round by the blind minstrels attendant, he was turning away, when the glee-man, detecting perhaps the ring of the coin, broke forth in stirring tones

Again he stood transfixed, beating time with his hand, his eyes beaming, his hips moving as he followed the spirit-stirring ballad; and then, as Douglas falls, and is laid beneath the bracken bush, unseen by his men, and Montgomery forces Hotspur to yield, not to him, but

to the bracken bush

That grows upon the lily lea,

he sobbed without disguise; and no sooner was the ballad ended than he sprang forward to the harper, crying, Again, again; another gold crown to hear it again!

Sir, entreated Nigel, remember how much hangs on your speed.

The ballad I must have, exclaimed Sir James, trying to shake him off.  It moves the heart more than aught I ever heard!  How runs it?

I know the ballad, said Malcolm, half in impatience, half in contempt.  I could sing every word of it.  Every glee-man has it.

Nayhear you, Sirthe lad can sing it, reiterated Nigel; and Sir James, throwing the promised guerdon to the minstrel, let himself be led away to the front of the inn; but there was a piper, playing to a group of dancers, and as if his feet could not resist the fascination, Sir James held out his hand to the first comely lass he saw disengaged, and in spite of the steel-guarded boots that he wore, answered foot for foot, spring for spring, to the deft manoeuvres of her shoeless feet, with equal agility and greater grace.  Nigel frowned more than ever at this exhibition, and when the knight had led his panting partner to a seat, and called for a tankard of ale for her refreshment, he remonstrated more seriously still.  Sir, the gates of Berwick will be shut.