"Bid them come forward," said the Baron; and no sooner had they approached him more nearly, than, struck by the fine form and strength displayed by Halbert Glendinning, he addressed him thus: "I am told, young Sw.a.n.kie, that you are roaming the world to seek your fortune,--if you will serve Julian Avenel, you may find it without going farther."
"So please you," answered Glendinning, "something has chanced to me that makes it better I should leave this land, and I am bound for Edinburgh."
"What!--thou hast stricken some of the king"s deer, I warrant,--or lightened the meadows of Saint Mary"s of some of their beeves--or thou hast taken a moonlight leap over the border?"
"No, sir," said Halbert, "my case is entirely different."
"Then I warrant thee," said the Baron, "thou hast stabbed some brother churl in a fray about a wench--thou art a likely lad to wrangle in such a cause."
Ineffably disgusted at his tone and manner, Halbert Glendinning remained silent, while the thought darted across his mind, what would Julian Avenel have said, had he known the quarrel of which he spoke so lightly, had arisen on account of his own brother"s daughter! "But be thy cause of flight what it will," said Julian, in continuation, "dost thou think the law or its emissaries can follow thee into this island, or arrest thee under the standard of Avenel?--Look at the depth of the lake, the strength of the walls, the length of the causeway--look at my men, and think if they are likely to see a comrade injured, or if I, their master, am a man to desert a faithful follower, in good or evil. I tell thee it shall be an eternal day of truce betwixt thee and justice, as they call it, from the instant thou hast put my colours into thy cap--thou shalt ride by the Warden"s nose as thou wouldst pa.s.s an old market-woman, and ne"er a cur which follows him shall dare to bay at thee!"
"I thank you for your offers, n.o.ble sir," replied Halbert, "but I must answer in brief, that I cannot profit by them--my fortunes lead me elsewhere."
"Thou art a self-willed fool for thy pains," said Julian, turning from him; and signing Christie to approach, he whispered in his ear, "there is promise in that young fellow"s looks, Christie, and we want men of limbs and sinews so compacted--those thou hast brought to me of late are the mere refuse of mankind, wretches scarce worth the arrow that ends them: this youngster is limbed like Saint George. Ply him with wine and wa.s.sail--let the wenches weave their meshes about him like spiders--thou understandest?" Christie gave a sagacious nod of intelligence, and fell back to a respectful distance from his master.--"And thou, old man," said the Baron, turning to the elder traveller, "hast thou been roaming the world after fortune too?--it seems not she has fallen into thy way."
"So please you," replied Warden, "I were perhaps more to be pitied than I am now, had I indeed met with that fortune, which, like others, I have sought in my greener days."
"Nay, understand me, friend," said the Baron; "if thou art satisfied with thy buckram gown and long staff, I also am well content thou shouldst be as poor and contemptible as is good for the health of thy body and soul--All I care to know of thee is, the cause which hath brought thee to my castle, where few crows of thy kind care to settle.
Thou art, I warrant thee, some ejected monk of a suppressed convent, paying in his old days the price of the luxurious idleness in which he spent his youth.--Ay, or it may be some pilgrim with a budget of lies from Saint James of Compostella, or Our Lady of Loretto; or thou mayest be some pardoner with his budget of relics from Rome, forgiving sins at a penny a-dozen, and one to the tale.--Ay, I guess why I find thee in this boy"s company, and doubtless thou wouldst have such a strapping lad as he to carry thy wallet, and relieve thy lazy shoulders; but by the ma.s.s I will cross thy cunning. I make my vow to sun and moon, I will not see a proper lad so misleard as to run the country with an old knave like Simmie and his brother. [Footnote: Two _quaestionarii_, or begging friars, whose accoutrements and roguery make the subject of an old Scottish satirical poem] Away with thee!" he added, rising in wrath, and speaking so fast as to give no opportunity of answer, being probably determined to terrify the elder guest into an abrupt flight--"Away with thee, with thy clouted coat, scrip, and scallop-sh.e.l.l, or, by the name of Avenel, I will have them loose the hounds on thee."
Warden waited with the greatest patience until Julian Avenel, astonished that the threats and violence of his language made no impression on him, paused in a sort of wonder, and said in a less imperious tone, "Why the fiend dost thou not answer me?"
"When you have done speaking," said Warden, in the same composed manner, "it will be full time to reply."
"Say on man, in the devil"s name--but take heed--beg not here--were it but for the rinds of cheese, the refuse of the rats, or a morsel that my dogs would turn from--neither a grain of meal, nor the nineteenth part of a gray groat, will I give to any feigned limmer of thy coat,"
"It may be," answered Warden, "that you would have less quarrel with my coat if you knew what it covers, I am neither a friar nor mendicant, and would be right glad to hear thy testimony against these foul deceivers of G.o.d"s church, and usurpers of his rights over the Christian flock, were it given in Christian charity."
"And who or what art thou, then," said Avenel, "that thou comest to this Border land, and art neither monk, nor soldier, nor broken man?"
"I am an humble teacher of the holy word," answered Warden. "This letter from a most n.o.ble person will speak why I am here at this present time."
He delivered the letter to the Baron, who regarded the seal with some surprise, and then looked on the letter itself, which seemed to excite still more. He then fixed his eyes on the stranger, and said, in a menacing tone, "I think thou darest not betray me or deceive me?"
"I am not the man to attempt either," was the concise reply.
Julian Avenel carried the letter to the window, where he perused, or at least attempted to peruse it more than once, often looking from the paper and gazing on the stranger who had delivered it, as if he meant to read the purport of the missive in the face of the messenger.
Julian at length called to the female,--"Catherine, bestir thee, and fetch me presently that letter which I bade thee keep ready at hand in thy casket, having no sure lockfast place of my own."
Catherine went with the readiness of one willing to be employed; and as she walked, the situation which requires a wider gown and a longer girdle, and in which woman claims from man a double portion of the most anxious care, was still more visible than before. She soon returned with the paper, and was rewarded with a cold--"I thank thee, wench; thou art a careful secretary."
This second paper he also perused and reperused more than once, and still, as he read it, bent from time to time a wary and observant eye upon Henry Warden. This examination and re-examination, though both the man and the place were dangerous, the preacher endured with the most composed and steady countenance, seeming, under the eagle, or rather the vulture eye of the baron, as unmoved as under the gaze of an ordinary and peaceful peasant. At length Julian Avenel folded both papers, and having put them into the pocket of his cloak, cleared his brow, and, coming forward, addressed his female companion.
"Catherine," said he, "I have done this good man injustice, when I mistook him for one of the drones of Rome. He is a preacher, Catherine--a preacher of the--the new doctrine of the Lords of the Congregation."
"The doctrine of the blessed Scriptures," said the preacher, "purified from the devices of men."
"Sayest thou?" said Julian Avenel--"Well, thou mayest call it what thou lists; but to me it is recommended, because it flings off all those sottish dreams about saints and angels and devils, and unhorses lazy monks that have ridden us so long, and spur-galled us so hard. No more ma.s.ses and corpse-gifts--no more t.i.thes and offerings to make men poor--no more prayers or psalms to make men cowards-no more christenings and penances, and confessions and marriages."
"So please you," said Henry Warden, "it is against the corruptions, not against the fundamental doctrines, of the church, which we desire to renovate, and not to abolish."
"Prithee, peace, man," said the Baron; "we of the laity care not what you set up, so you pull merrily down what stands in our way. Specially it suits well with us of the Southland fells; for it is our profession to turn the world upside down, and we live ever the blithest life when the downer side is uppermost."
Warden would have replied; but the Baron allowed him not time, striking the table with the hilt of his dagger, and crying out,--"Ha!
you loitering knaves, bring our supper-meal quickly. See you not this holy man is exhausted for lack of food? heard ye ever of priest or preacher that devoured not his five meals a-day?"
The attendants bustled to and fro, and speedily brought in several large smoking platters filled with huge pieces of beef, boiled and roasted, but without any variety whatsoever; without vegetables, and almost without bread, though there was at the upper end a few oat-cakes in a basket. Julian Avenel made a sort of apology to Warden.
"You have been commended to our care, Sir Preacher, since that is your style, by a person whom we highly honour."
"I am a.s.sured," said Warden, "that the most n.o.ble Lord--"
"Prithee, peace, man," said Avenel; "what need of naming names, so we understand each other? I meant but to speak in reference to your safety and comfort, of which he desires us to be chary. Now, for your safety, look at my walls and water. But touching your comfort, we have no corn of our own, and the meal-girnels of the south are less easily transported than their beeves, seeing they have no legs to walk upon.
But what though? a stoup of wine thou shalt have, and of the best--thou shalt sit betwixt Catherine and me at the board-end.--And, Christie, do thou look to the young springald, and call to the cellarer for a flagon of the best."
The Baron took his wonted place at the upper end of the board; his Catherine sate down, and courteously pointed to a seat betwixt them for their reverend guest. But notwithstanding the influence both of hunger and fatigue, Henry Warden retained his standing posture.
Chapter the Twenty-Fifth.
When lovely woman stoops to folly, And finds too late that men betray--
Julian Avenel saw with surprise the demeanour of the reverend stranger. "Beshrew me," he said, "these new-fashioned religioners have fast-days, I warrant me--the old ones used to confer these blessings chiefly on the laity."
"We acknowledge no such rule," said the preacher--"We hold that our faith consists not in using or abstaining from special meats on special days; and in fasting we rend our hearts, and not our garments."
"The better--the better for yourselves, and the worse for Tom Tailor,"
said the Baron; "but come, sit down, or, if thou needs must e"en give us a cast of thy office, mutter thy charm."
"Sir Baron," said the preacher, "I am in a strange land, where neither mine office nor my doctrine are known, and where, it would seem, both are greatly misunderstood. It is my duty so to bear me, that in my person, however unworthy, my Master"s dignity may be respected, and that sin may take not confidence from relaxation of the bonds of discipline."
"Ho la! halt there," said the Baron; "thou wert sent hither for thy safety, but not, I think, to preach to me, or control me. What is it thou wouldst have, Sir Preacher? Remember thou speakest to one somewhat short of patience, who loves a short health and a long draught."
"In a word, then," said Henry Warden, "that lady--"
"How?" said the Baron, starting--"what of her?--what hast thou to say of that dame?"
"Is she thy house-dame?" said the preacher, after a moment"s pause, in which, he seemed to seek for the best mode of expressing what he had to say--"Is she, in brief, thy wife?"
The unfortunate young woman pressed both her hands on her face, as if to hide it, but the deep blush which crimsoned her brow and neck, showed that her cheeks were also glowing; and the bursting tears, which found their way betwixt her slender fingers, bore witness to her sorrow, as well as to her shame.
"Now, by my father"s ashes!" said the Baron, rising and spurning from him his footstool with such violence, that it hit the wall on the opposite side of the apartment--then instantly constraining himself, he muttered, "What need to run myself into trouble for a fool"s word?"--then resuming his seat, he answered coldly and scornfully--"No, Sir Priest or Sir Preacher, Catherine is not my wife--Cease thy whimpering, thou foolish wench--she is not my wife, but she is handfasted with me, and that makes her as honest a woman."
"Handfasted?"--repeated Warden.
"Knowest thou not that rite, holy man?" said Avenel, in the same tone of derision; "then I will tell thee. We Border-men are more wary than your inland clowns of Fife and Lothian--no jump in the dark for us--no clenching the fetters around our wrists till we know how they will wear with us--we take our wives, like our horses, upon trial. When we are handfasted, as we term it, we are man and wife for a year and day--that s.p.a.ce gone by, each may choose another mate, or, at their pleasure, may call the priest to marry them for life--and this we call handfasting." [Footnote: This custom of handfasting actually prevailed in the upland days. It arose partly from the want of priests. While the convents subsisted, monks were detached on regular circuits through the wilder districts, to marry those who had lived in this species of connexion. A practice of the same kind existed in the Isle of Portland.]