Embarra.s.sed as he was, Sir Piercie Shafton showed no personal fear.
"Put up thy sword," he said, "young man; not in the same day does Piercie Shafton contend with two peasants."
"Hear him! he confesses the deed, holy father," said Edward.
"Be patient, my son," said the Sub-Prior, endeavouring to soothe the feelings which he could not otherwise control, "be patient--thou wilt attain the ends of justice better through my means than thine own violence--And you, women, be silent--Tibb, remove your mistress and Mary Avenel."
While Tibb, with the a.s.sistance of the other females of the household, bore the poor mother and Mary Avenel into separate apartments, and while Edward, still keeping his sword in his hand, hastily traversed the room, as if to prevent the possibility of Sir Piercie Shafton"s escape, the Sub-Prior insisted upon knowing from the perplexed knight the particulars which he knew respecting Halbert Glendinning. His situation became extremely embarra.s.sing, for what he might with safety have told of the issue of their combat was so revolting to his pride, that he could not bring himself to enter into the detail; and of Halbert"s actual fate he knew, as the reader is well aware, absolutely nothing.
The father in the meanwhile pressed him with remonstrances, and prayed him to observe, he would greatly prejudice himself by declining to give a full account of the transactions of the day. "You cannot deny,"
he said, "that yesterday you seemed to take the most violent offence at this unfortunate youth; and that you suppressed your resentment so suddenly as to impress us all with surprise. Last night you proposed to him this day"s hunting party, and you set out together by break of day. You parted, you said, at the fountain near the rock, about an hour or twain after sunrise, and it appears that before you parted you had been at strife together."
"I said not so," replied the knight. "Here is a coil indeed about the absence of a rustical bondsman, who, I dare say, hath gone off (if he be gone) to join the next rascally band of freebooters! Ye ask me, a knight of the Piercie"s lineage, to account for such an insignificant fugitive, and I answer,--let me know the price of his head, and I will pay it to your convent treasurer."
"You admit, then, that you have slain my brother?" said Edward, interfering once more; "I will presently show you at what price we Scots rate the lives of our friends."
"Peace, Edward, peace--I entreat--I command thee," said the Sub-Prior.
"And you, Sir Knight, think better of us than to suppose you may spend Scottish blood, and reckon for it as for wine spilt in a drunken revel. This youth was no bondsman--thou well knowest, that in thine own land thou hadst not dared to lift thy sword against the meanest subject of England, but her laws would have called thee to answer for the deed. Do not hope it will be otherwise here, for you will but deceive yourself."
"You drive me beyond my patience," said the Euphuist, "even as the over-driven ox is urged into madness!--What can I tell you of a young fellow whom I have not seen since the second hour after sunrise?"
"But can you explain in what circ.u.mstances you parted with him?" said the monk.
"What _are_ the circ.u.mstances, in the devil"s name, which you desire should be explained?--for although I protest against this constraint as alike unworthy and inhospitable, yet would I willingly end this fray, provided that by words it may be ended," said the knight.
"If these end it not," said Edward, "blows shall, and that full speedily."
"Peace, impatient boy!" said the Sub-Prior; "and do you, Sir Piercie Shafton, acquaint me why the ground is b.l.o.o.d.y by the verge of the fountain in Corri-nan-shian, where, as you say yourself, you parted from Halbert Glendinning?"
Resolute not to avow his defeat if possibly he could avoid it, the knight answered in a haughty tone, that he supposed it was no unusual thing to find the turf b.l.o.o.d.y where hunters had slain a deer.
"And did you bury your game as well as kill it?" said the monk. "We must know from you who is the tenant of that grave, that newly-made grave, beside the very fountain whose margin is so deeply crimsoned with blood?--thou seest thou canst not evade me; therefore be ingenuous, and tell us the fate of this unhappy youth, whose body is doubtless lying under that b.l.o.o.d.y turf."
"If it be," said Sir Piercie, "they must have buried him alive; for I swear to thee, reverend father, that this rustic juvenal parted from me in perfect health. Let the grave be searched, and if his body be found, then deal with me as ye list."
"It is not my sphere to determine thy fate, Sir Knight, but that of the Lord Abbot, and the right reverend Chapter. It is but my duty to collect such information as may best possess their wisdom with the matters which have chanced."
"Might I presume so far, reverend father," said the knight, "I should wish to know the author and evidence of all these suspicions, so unfoundedly urged against me?"
"It is soon told," said the Sub-Prior; "nor do I wish to disguise it, if it can avail you in your defence. This maiden, Mary Avenel, apprehending that you nourished malice against her foster-brother under a friendly brow, did advisedly send up the old man, Martin Tacket, to follow your footsteps and to prevent mischief. But it seems that your evil pa.s.sions had outrun precaution: for when he came to the spot, guided by your footsteps upon the dew, he found but the b.l.o.o.d.y turf and the new covered grave; and after long and vain search through the wilds after Halbert and yourself, he brought back the sorrowful news to her who had sent him."
"Saw he not my doublet, I pray you?" said Sir Piercie; "for when I came to myself, I found that I was wrapped in my cloak, but without my under garment as your reverence may observe."
So saying, he opened his cloak, forgetting, with his characteristical inconsistency, that he showed his shirt stained with blood.
"How! cruel man," said the monk, when he observed this confirmation of his suspicions; "wilt thou deny the guilt, even while thou bearest on thy person the blood thou hast shed?--Wilt thou longer deny that thy rash hand has robbed a mother of a son, our community of a va.s.sal, the Queen of Scotland of a liege subject? and what canst thou expect, but that, at the least, we deliver thee up to England, as undeserving our farther protection?"
"By the Saints!" said the knight, now driven to extremity, "if this blood be the witness against me, it is but rebel blood, since this morning at sunrise it flowed within my own veins."
"How were that possible, Sir Piercie Shafton," said the monk, "since I see no wound from whence it can have flowed?"
"That," said the knight, "is the most mysterious part of the transaction --See here!"
So saying, he undid his shirt collar, and, opening his bosom, showed the spot through--which Halbert"s sword had pa.s.sed, but already cicatrized, and bearing the appearance of a wound lately healed.
"This exhausts my patience, Sir Knight," said the Sub-Prior, "and is adding insult to violence and injury. Do you hold me for a child or an idiot, that you pretend to make me believe that the fresh blood with which your shirt is stained, flowed from a wound which has been healed for weeks or months? Unhappy mocker, thinkest thou thus to blind us?
Too well do we know that it is the blood of your victim, wrestling with you in the desperate and mortal struggle, which has thus dyed your apparel."
The knight, after a moment"s recollection, said in reply, "I will be open with you, my father--bid these men stand out of ear-shot, and I will tell you all I know of this mysterious business; and muse not, good father, though it may pa.s.s thy wit to expound it, for I avouch to you it is too dark for mine own."
The monk commanded Edward and the two men to withdraw, a.s.suring the former that his conference with the prisoner should be brief, and giving him permission to keep watch at the door of the apartment; without which allowance he might, perhaps, have had some difficulty in procuring his absence. Edward had no sooner left the chamber, than he despatched messengers to one or two families of the Halidome, with whose sons his brother and he sometimes a.s.sociated, to tell them that Halbert Glendinning had been murdered by an Englishman, and to require them to repair to the Tower of Glendearg without delay. The duty of revenge in such cases was held so sacred, that he had no reason to doubt they would instantly come with such a.s.sistance as would ensure the detention of the prisoner. He then locked the doors of the tower, both inner and outer, and also the gate of the court-yard. Having taken these precautions, he made a hasty visit to the females of the family, exhausting himself in efforts to console them, and in protestations that he would have vengeance for his murdered brother.
Chapter the Twenty-Seventh.
Now, by Our Lady, Sheriff,"tis hard reckoning, That I, with every odds of birth and barony Should be detain"d here for the casual death Of a wild forester, whose utmost having Is but the brazen buckle of the belt In which he sticks his hedge-knife.
OLD PLAY.
While Edward was making preparations for securing and punishing the supposed murderer of his brother, with an intense thirst for vengeance, which had not hitherto shown itself as part of his character, Sir Piercie Shafton made such communications as it pleased him to the Sub-Prior, who listened with great attention, though the knight"s narrative was none of the clearest, especially as his self-conceit led him to conceal or abridge the details which were necessary to render it intelligible.
"You are to know," he said, "reverend father, that this rustical juvenal having chosen to offer me, in the presence of your venerable Superior, yourself, and other excellent and worthy persons, besides the damsel, Mary Avenel, whom I term my Discretion in all honour and kindness, a gross insult, rendered yet more intolerable by the time and place, my just resentment did so gain the mastery over my discretion, that I resolved to allow him the privileges of an equal, and to indulge him with the combat."
"But, Sir Knight," said the Sub-Prior, "you still leave two matters very obscure. First, why the token he presented to you gave you so much offence, as I with others witnessed; and then again, how the youth, whom you then met for the first, or, at least, the second time, knew so much of your history as enabled him so greatly to move you."
The knight coloured very deeply.
"For your first query," he said, "most reverend father, we will, if you please, pretermit it as nothing essential to the matter in hand; and for the second--I protest to you that I know as little of his means of knowledge as you do, and that I am well-nigh persuaded he deals with Sathanas, of which more anon.--Well, sir--In the evening, I failed not to veil my purpose with a pleasant brow, as is the custom amongst us martialists, who never display the b.l.o.o.d.y colours of defiance in our countenance until our hand is armed to fight under them. I amused the fair Discretion with some canzonettes, and other toys, which could not but be ravishing to her inexperienced ears. I arose in the morning, and met my antagonist, who, to say truth, for an inexperienced villagio, comported himself as stoutly as I could have desired.--So, coming to the encounter, reverend sir, I did try his mettle with some half-a-dozen of downright pa.s.ses, with any one of which I could have been through his body, only that I was loth to take so fatal an advantage, but rather, mixing mercy with my just indignation, studied to inflict upon him some flesh-wound of no very fatal quality. But, sir, in the midst of my clemency, he, being instigated, I think, by the devil, did follow up his first offence with some insult of the same nature. Whereupon, being eager to punish him, I made an estramazone, and my foot slipping at the same time,--not from any fault of fence on my part, or any advantage of skill on his, but the devil having, as I said, taken up the matter in hand, and the gra.s.s being slippery,--ere I recovered my position I encountered his sword, which he had advanced, with my undefended person, so that, as I think, I was in some sort run through the body.
My juvenal, being beyond measure appalled at his own unexpected and unmerited success in this strange encounter, takes the flight and leaves me there, and I fall into a dead swoon for the lack of the blood I had lost so foolishly--and when I awake, as from a sound sleep, I find myself lying, an it like you, wrapt up in my cloak at the foot of one of the birch-trees which stand together in a clump near to this place. I feel my limbs, and experience little pain, but much weakness--I put my hand to the wound--it was whole and skinned over as you now see it--I rise and come hither; and in these words you have my whole day"s story."
"I can only reply to so strange a tale," answered the monk, "that it is scarce possible that Sir Piercie Shafton can expect me to credit it. Here is a quarrel, the cause of which you conceal--a wound received in the morning, of which there is no recent appearance at sunset,--a grave filled up, in which no body is deposited--the vanquished found alive and well--the victor departed no man knows whither. These things, Sir Knight, hang not so well together, that I should receive them as gospel."
"Reverend father," answered Sir Piercie Shafton, "I pray you in the first place to observe, that if I offer peaceful and civil justification of that which I have already averred to be true, I do so only in devout deference to your dress and to your order, protesting, that to any other opposite, saving a man of religion, a lady or my liege prince, I would not deign to support that which I had once attested, otherwise than with the point of my good sword. And so much being premised, I have to add, that I can but gage my honour as a gentleman, and my faith as a Catholic Christian, that the things which I have described to you have happened to me as I have described them, and not otherwise."
"It is a deep a.s.sertion, Sir Knight," answered the Sub-Prior; "yet, bethink you, it is only an a.s.sertion, and that no reason can be alleged why things should be believed which are so contrary to reason.
Let me pray you to say whether the grave, which has been seen at your place of combat, was open or closed when your encounter took place?"
"Reverend father," said the knight, "I will veil from you nothing, but show you each secret of my bosom; even as the pure fountain revealeth the smallest pebble which graces the sand at the bottom of its crystal mirror, and as--"
"Speak in plain terms, for the love of heaven!" said the monk; "these holiday phrases belong not to solemn affairs--Was the grave open when the conflict began?"
"It was," answered the knight, "I acknowledge it; even as he that acknowledgeth--"
"Nay, I pray you, fair son, forbear these similitudes, and observe me.
On yesterday at even no grave was found in that place, for old Martin chanced, contrary to his wont, to go thither in quest of a strayed sheep. At break of day, by your own confession, a grave was opened in that spot, and there a combat was fought--only one of the combatants appears, and he is covered with blood, and to all appearance woundless."--Here the knight made a gesture of impatience.--"Nay, fair son, hear me but one moment--the grave is closed and covered by the sod--what can we believe, but that it conceals the b.l.o.o.d.y corpse of the fallen duellist?"
"By Heaven, it cannot!" said the knight, "unless the juvenal hath slain himself and buried himself, in order to place me in the predicament of his murderer."