"If it wasna Sir George, ye can maybe tell me wha it was," replied the old nurse, looking cunningly into the face of Matilda.
"I can tell ye nothing, Bertha, for I heard nothing," said the other.
This conversation, which was interrupted by the entrance of Lady Rollo, roused the curiosity of Matilda, who, ignorant of the interest felt by Bertha in the suit of the English lover, did not observe in her words or manner any wish to acquire information, but only a simple badinage on a subject of love. She trusted her nurse implicitly as her best friend, and sought her counsel often in those moments of unhappiness when her mother interrupted the imaginative course of her life by some effort to get her affections fixed on a proud baron or a courtly knight. The consolations of Bertha were ever ready; and her innocent and unsuspicious friend did not observe, in the nurse"s zealous efforts to confirm her against the marriage-plans of her mother, the anxious workings of the concealed and paid deputy of a lover also rejected. She intended to have questioned her father about the sounds in the wood; but that day did not afford an opportunity for the gratification of her wish. Left to her own imagination, she concluded that some of her lovers had presumed to address her after the Spanish form of the evening serenade; and, while she resolved upon listening on the following evening, she was determined to take no notice of the importunities of her impa.s.sioned lover.
The evening set in with great beauty. The full moon rose high in the heavens, in which there was not discernible the thinnest wreath of vapour to form a resting-place for the eye, as it wandered among the endless regions of pure illuminated ether. The bright queen, paramount over all, engrossed the whole hemisphere, reducing the twinkling stars to the dimensions of small satraps of distant provinces, whose smallness increased the splendour of her august majesty. The stillness of nature suggested the idea of a general worship of the presiding genius of the night. Every wind was stilled, and even the Whitadder seemed to glide along with a greater smoothness than usual; while its singing, mellow voice seemed as if it rejoiced in the bright reflection of the gay queen of the heavens it held in its bosom. It was now about nine o"clock.
Matilda was sitting at the cas.e.m.e.nt of her apartment, overlooking the stream--her eyes were fixed on the beautiful scene; the towers of Roseallan threw over a part of the river a shadow, at the farther extremity of which, and, as it were, at the point of the eastern turret, the round form of the moon, like a bright silver salver, lay still in the bosom of the water. A little beyond this striking object stood her bower in the wood; and so bright was the flood of light that penetrated every part of the forest, that she saw the door and window of the romantic retreat so perfectly, that she could have detected the entrance of the august Oberon, or even Piggwiggan himself, if either of them could have left their revels on the greensward, in that auspicious night, to favour her bower with a visit. The scene was so inviting, that she would have been tempted to wander over the bridge into the wood, if the information of Bertha had not pointed out to her the danger.
As she continued her gaze on the beautiful scene, her attention was claimed by the form of a man gliding between the trees in the wood. He came forward to the edge of the river, and stood in a contemplative att.i.tude, with his arm resting on the branch of an old beech, and his head directed in such a way as to suggest the idea that he was looking towards the cas.e.m.e.nt of Matilda"s apartment. On seeing him take this att.i.tude, she retired back, to prevent her white dress from attracting his attention. A slight examination satisfied her that he was an individual below the rank of life in which she moved. He was of great height and commanding aspect; but his dress was that of the son of a free farmer of that time, being composed of the rough doublet, bound with a broad leather belt, and the slouched hat, made of thick plaits of coa.r.s.e straw, and ornamented with a black riband tied round the junction of the rim and the crown. Though worn by the inferior orders, the dress was a n.o.ble one, imparting to the wearer an air of robust strength, with that easy carelessness and rude grace which forms the _dignite_ of the freeborn son of the mountain. It was only the general outline of his appearance and dress which Matilda could thus discover through the light of the moon; but she saw enough to excite her attention, and she continued to notice his motions.
The stranger stood in the same att.i.tude of mute contemplation for a considerable time, his face still directed toward the same part of the building, in spite of the powerful claims on his eye and attention that were put forth by the splendid scene around him, with the round figure of the moon shining in the waters at his feet. At length he took his arm from the branch of the old beech, and, turning round, slowly directed his steps towards Matilda"s wood-bower, into which he entered, bending his tall person to enable him to get in at the door--a circ.u.mstance that satisfied Matilda of his great height, as her father--a very tall man--could enter without that preliminary. All was for a time still and silent; the gentle rippling of the Whitadder deriving from the absence of any other sound a distinctness which, in its turn, added to the depth of the quiet of sleeping nature. A soft sound began to rise in low strains of sweet music, coming apparently from the bower. It was the voice of a man, modulated into the tones of the pathetic expression of heart-felt sentiment; the air was slow, and filled with cadences which brought down the voice to the lowest note; the words--p.r.o.nounced in the low tone of the music, and run together by the fluent character of the melody which accompanied them--could not be distinguished; but the effect of the plaintive sounds, co-operating with the silence of night, and the extraordinary scene of lunar splendour exhibited by earth and heaven, was felt by Matilda as the nearest approximation she had yet experienced to the realisation of her imaginative creations. The music continued for some time, and then ceased at the termination of one of the deep cadences, prolonged apparently for the purpose of expressing a finale. The individual came out of the bower, and stood again on the side of the river--the shadow of his tall figure fell on the ground like the reflection of the beech on which he leaned; he continued his gaze for some time in dead silence, and then, turning, disappeared in the wood.
Matilda was unable, after all the consideration she could bestow on the subject, to come to any conclusion satisfactory to herself, as to either the ident.i.ty of the individual, or the object he had in view. During the night, the scene, which had been deeply impressed on her mind, was verified by the power of fancy; and there was a certain romance about it which recommended it to her heart. In the morning she questioned Bertha, to whom she confided her every secret.
"I am perplexed, Bertha," she began. "You asked me yesterday if I had heard any sounds in the Satyr"s Hall, and I have that question now to put to you. The man that sings in my bower must have some other object in view than gratifying his own ears or those of the night birds with his plaintive melody. What means it, Bertha? Come, my good friend, unravel the mystery, and the grateful thanks of your Matilda will reward you."
"If the throstle hen kens nae the mottled lover that sings to her, what other bird o" the wood can come to the knowledge?" answered Bertha. "I"m owre auld a bird to ken noo the notes o" a lover, or to tell a moulted feather frae the new plume; but, as far as my auld een would carry, your night freend looked mair curiously at the east tower o" Roseallan than men generally do at grey wa"s in the light o" the moon. He"s as tall, at ony rate, as Sir Thomas, and I thocht there was only ae man o" his height in the land where he sojourns. But I think I could unmask his secresy."
Bertha looked, to see the effect of her allusion to her princ.i.p.al; but she got no encouragement.
"Whoever he may be," answered Matilda, "he is a very different kind of individual from Sir George Douglas; nor is it Sir Thomas Courtney. The melody is too sweet for the execution of an English throat. He is a Scotchman; probably some of my Edinburgh courtly lovers, in the disguise of a free son of the mountains. I cannot listen to his strains; but you can safely approach the bower, and may, as you yourself have proffered, ascertain for me who and what he is."
"My young leddy"s wish is Bertha"s command," answered the old woman; "watch me with your hazel eyes, over the white bridge, this night at nine. If he comes again, he shall not go away unknown."
When the evening came, Matilda was again at her cas.e.m.e.nt. The night was as beautiful as the preceding one; but there was a thin halo round the moon that gave her a softer aspect; and the diminished sound of the mellow ripple of the Whitadder seemed to indicate that there was a zephyr abroad whose presence could be detected only by that delicate test. About the hour of nine, she saw the thin figure of old Bertha, rolled up in a cloak, steal silently from a postern of the east wall, and creep slowly down to the end of the light, airy bridge, that spanned, with its pure white arms, the bosom of the river. Stretching forth her bony hand, she seized the rail, and, having got a firm footing, walked with slow steps along the planks. Her progress was slow, nervous, and unsteady. Matilda was solicitous for her safety; for she had never seen Bertha venture along the bridge at night, and she herself seldom crossed it after nightfall, even with the aid of a resplendent moon. Her attention was fixed upon her to the exclusion of all notice of any proceedings on the other side of the stream. The old woman had got to the middle of the bridge, and Matilda saw with horror her supposed faithful friend fall. Starting from her seat, she rushed down, and in an instant was at the end of the bridge. Seizing the rail, she hurried along, and found the body of the nurse lying extended on the planks, apparently senseless, though she had merely experienced an ordinary fall, the result of a stumble. Bending down, the anxious girl was proceeding to lift her up, when she was, in an instant, seized by the arms of a strong man, and hurried away to the further end of the bridge. Stunned by this sudden seizure, succeeding as it did the anxiety under which she laboured for her nurse, she was unable even to scream, and lay in the arms of the person that bore her away, helpless, and nearly senseless. When she recovered herself so far as to be conscious of her situation, she found she was in the wood, and heard the sound of the voices of several men, among whom she thought she observed the disguised figure of a gentleman. They had wrapped a large cloak round her, and were in the act of putting her on the back of a jennet that stood ready saddled and bridled, when the man that held her was struck to the ground by some one that came behind him. He lay senseless at her feet; a second one shared his fate in an instant; and a third, after dealing a treacherous blow on the head of her deliverer, flung himself on a horse that stood alongside of the jennet, and galloped off at the top of his speed. Meanwhile, she was again seized by another man, and soon found herself reclining in her own bower.
"The feet o" the remaining horses," said a voice at her feet, "are raisin the echoes o" the Satyr"s wood. The spoilers have recovered, and have fled after their master, who is, by this time, by the side o" the Tweed. Hoo fares Matilda Rollo? Can it be excused by high birth and beauty that the salvation o" their possessor frae the arms o" an English reformer cam frae the courage or the good fortune o" ane that daurna lift his face to ask forgiveness for doin the duty o" a fellow-creature?"
"Whoever you are," cried Matilda, as she recovered, "you have done little in saving me, if Bertha Maitland lies drowned in the Whitadder; and that blood that flows down your face may be the dear price of my safety." And she started to her feet, as if she were to fly to save her friend.
"Content yersel, fair leddy," said the individual who still knelt at her feet; "my wound is sma", and as to your auld nurse, I saw her rise without a helpin hand, and, like the stunned bird, shake her feathers, and return to Roseallan wi" a steadier step than when she wiled ye owre the bridge."
The last words were p.r.o.nounced with that irresolution which resulted from a fear of a false impeachment, and were not heard or understood by Matilda, who, made easy on the subject of her solicitude, now contemplated the individual who had saved her. The blood flowed profusely over his face, yet she could perceive that he was the same person whom she had seen on the previous night; and the estimate she had then made of his character was realised. But a new source of curiosity and interest was now opened to her. She recognised in his countenance, which was formed after the finest model that ever came from the pencil of Apelles or the chisel of Praxiteles, the original of the image which she had so often, in that bower, called up to the contemplation of a fancy excited by the reading of "Amadis" or "Cavalcante." She was surprised and confused; her mind recurred back to former times; a floating vision crossed her fancy; she fixed her eyes on the beautiful, though blood-stained countenance of her protector, and, blushing to the ears, threw them again on the ground. Her confusion prevented her from speaking, as well as from rising to return to the castle; and the doubt which clung to her mind, whether all the extraordinary proceedings of the last ten minutes were not a dream, added to her irresolution, and increased her embarra.s.sment. A thought roused her suddenly to a sense of her position. Bertha would report her danger at the castle, and her father, with attendants, would instantly be in search of her, and in pursuit of the fugitives. Starting up, she made confusedly for the entrance of the bower; but the hem of her garment was held by her deliverer, who implored for a moment"s delay.
"A second time have I been blessed," he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, as he wiped the blood from his face. "Three years have pa.s.sed sin chance led me to look in at the window o" this wood-bower, where, gracious heaven! I saw the fair maiden o" Roseallan in the beauty o" a calm sleep. On this heather-bench, which was strewn wi" roses, her head rested; a book had fa"en frae her left hand, and her right was spread amang the flowing curls o" auburn hair that spread owre her neck and bosom. She dreamed, dootless, o" some happy lover; for, ever and anon, the smile played on her lips, and a tear struggled frae beneath the closed lids, and trickled down her cheeks. The vision enchanted me--I gazed, and could have gazed for ever. Matilda Rollo, you awoke, and saw my face as it disappeared from the window; but, Heaven have mercy on me! I have never awoke frae that hour! Wi" the might o" that enchantment, I wrestled as became a humble admirer o" what fate had put beyond my reach--but it was in vain, and I sought relief frae the new scenes o" Northumberland, while my brother tended a widowed mother. Fate has brought me again to the neighbourhood o" Roseallan; but duty must--ay, shall drive me again far away."
A sudden recollection glanced on the mind of Matilda; she threw her eyes upon his countenance, the origin of all her day-dreams, and quickly, and as if in terror, withdrew them. A slight struggle released her from his gentle hold; she sprang out of the bower, and, with trembling steps, sought quickly the bridge, along which she hurried to the castle, where she sought instantly the chamber of Bertha. She found the old woman on her knees, at her evening"s devotion.
"Ah! my leddy!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the nurse, "why did ye leave me to seek my way back owre the brig, without the helpin hand o" your love and a.s.sistance? I was stunned sair by the fa", but I heard a sound o" voices as I recovered. I looked for you, and thought ye had returned to your apartment, whar I intended to have sought ye, after offering up my prayers to our Leddy for my deliverance."
"Sore stunned you must have been, good Bertha," said Matilda, "when you did not see my peril. Surely it is impossible. Did you not see your own Matilda carried off by men? Yet, why do I put that question? Surely it is sufficient to satisfy me that my dear friend was insensible and ignorant of my fate, when I see her occupied in prayer, in place of rousing my father to my rescue."
"Carried awa by men, child!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the nurse, "and me ignorant o"
the base treachery! By"r Leddy, I"m petrified! Whar were you carried, and wha were the ruffians? Kenned ye ony o" them? Doubtless, some o" our Holyrude knights in disguise. Speak, love, and relieve the beating heart o" your auld freend."
Matilda took Bertha up to her chamber, and recounted to her, in the confidence of love and friendship, all that had occurred to her--not even excepting the interview she had had in the wood-bower with her unknown but interesting deliverer.
"It was indeed he," she continued, "whose angelic countenance has so long hovered over me in my hours of retirement and in my dreams. He said he first saw me sleeping in my bower, and he spoke truth; for you must recollect, Bertha, of my having informed you, at the time, years ago, of my terror on awakening and finding a human countenance staring in upon me through the window. My confusion prevented me from recognising him; but his countenance had got into my mind by the power of its beauty, while my memory sometimes let go the connection between the image which subsequently waxed so vivid, and the occasion by which it became a part of my thoughts. Oh, long have I cherished it, long a.s.sumed it as the face of the beatified hero of my histories, often limned it in air by the pregnant pencil of my fancy, dreamed of it, and wept as the light of day chased away the beloved form, and left me only in its place the things of ordinary life, the countenances of the knightly wooers of Holyrood!"
"And wha is he," inquired Bertha, "wha thus shoves his head into leddies" bowers, and sae timously saves them frae the hands o"
kidnappers?"
"I know not, good Bertha," answered Matilda. "He is humble, and knows as well as I know that he and I never can be united. Already has duty taken him hence, and again is he to force himself far from me. I may never see him more. Would that I had never seen him, or were fated to see him ever!"
"Deliverer and spoiler are alike unkenned, then," said Bertha. "Hae ye nae suspicion o" the treacherous caitifs?" she added, looking searchingly into Matilda"s face.
"None," replied the other. "I heard them not; but, Bertha, my best and truest friend, you must endeavour to learn for me some intelligence of my deliverer; for, though he cannot ever stand in any other relation to me, I could wish to know something of one whose image I have treasured up in my heart, even as a miser does the number that forms the index of his wealth. The widow loves the grave of her departed husband, and bedews it with tears, and carries away with her again the image of him she leaves to the worms: he is to me as the entombed lover: life and death are not more distant, than the pride of the Rollos and the humility of the poor; but his name may become as the graven letters of the monumental stone--I may weep over it."
"Auld age is a puir scout, my Matilda," replied Bertha. "Ance I have failed in my commission, and a watery grave in the Whitadder had nearly been my reward. Tak the advice o" eild, and seek neither his name nor nativity. The duty ye owe to the pride and power o" the braw house o"
Roseallan must ever prevent ye frae being his wedded wife; and, if it is ordained that ye must forget him, ye will banish him from your mind the mair easily that ye ken nae mair o" him than ye do o" the bird that birrs past ye in the wood--that it has a bonny feather in its tail."
"Ah, Bertha, that ignorance will not be to me bliss," said Matilda, sighing; "but, in the meantime, I must hasten to my mother, and tell her of the danger I have escaped."
"And o" the lover that saved ye, guileless simpleton!" said Bertha, seizing her by the arm. "The Whitadder leads nae mair certainly to the Tweed, than will the story o" yer danger lead to the discovery o" him ye are ashamed to acknowledge as a lover. Darkness waukens the owl, and yer mystery will open the eyes o" Lady Rollo. Let the bird sleep, or its scream will mak the wood ring."
Matilda saw, so far as she herself was concerned, the prudence of secresy, and was about to take leave of Bertha for the night, when Lady Rollo entered, and informed her daughter that Sir George Douglas of Haughhead had arrived to pay his addresses to her, and that she behoved to be in a proper state for meeting him in the morning at the first meal. Having delivered her command, the proud dame retired, leaving her daughter to the many distracting reflections suggested by all the conflicting and painful events of the evening. She retired to her couch, where she was to resign herself to the domination of that rapt fancy that had so long led the train of her thoughts, and regulated the affections of her heart. Sleep forsook her pillow, or came only for short intervals, with the Genius of Dreams in his train. Waking or slumbering, the image of the unknown youth, who had made such an impression upon her heart, by the extraordinary deputed power of an imagination ever active in painting in bright colours all his perfections, was before her eyes. The higher these perfections and the brighter the beauties, the greater was the pain and the deeper the sobs of anguish that were wrung from her heart, by the conviction that her love was destined only to similate the cankerworm, that eats into the heart of the flower, and makes it perish.
Next day, she was compelled, with her hazel eyes still dimmed with tears, to meet Sir George Douglas, a man she had every reason to hate, as well from his proud a.s.sumption of a right to her affections, as from the mean and inconsistent mode of mediation he resorted to, and which she had learned from her mother that morning--by bribing her parents with large promises of a tempting dowery.
With her feelings never kindly affected towards him, her heart burning with the thoughts of another, and her prejudices excited by the information she received from her mother, she conducted herself towards the knight with a _hauteur_ that called forth his hurt pride and the indignation of her parents. After breakfast, she retired to her apartment, to feast her eyes with the vision of her bower--to her now enchanted--while her angry parents closeted themselves for a conference on the subject of Sir George"s splendid offer, and the conduct of their daughter. Wrought up to a pitch of excitement by the united feelings of anger and ambition, they came to the critical determination of submitting her entirely to the power and discretion of Douglas, who, if he chose to wed her upon the sanction of their consent, might, if he chose, dispense with that of the princ.i.p.al party interested. The project was instantly submitted to Douglas, a hard and unfeeling man, who, determined to possess Matilda upon any terms, closed readily with the offer, and a day was fixed at the end of a month for the marriage.
These preliminaries settled, Lady Rollo repaired to Matilda"s apartment, where she found her with her head resting on her hand, and her eyes fixed on the wood-bower, where she had conjured up the image of her unknown lover.
"Thy conduct this day, Matilda," she began, "towards one of the gayest and richest knights of our land, the confidant of King James, and our especial friend and favourite, requireth the chastis.e.m.e.nt of the reproof of parental authority; but we have witnessed too long this pride of beauty in thee (which disdaineth the loves of mortals, and seduceth thee and thy heart into the airy regions of profitless romance), to remain contented now with mere words of argument, persuasion, or reproach. The day of these is by, with the hopes of the many lovers thou hast turned away from the gates of Roseallan; and the time for action--maugre thy wishes or thy prejudices--hath approached. Sir George Douglas is destined to be thy husband, and the day after the next feast of our Church is thy appointed bridal-day, whereunto thou hadst best prepare thyself with as much grace and favour as thou mayest be able to call up into thy fair face."
Saying these words, Lady Rollo retired hurriedly, as if with the view of avoiding a reply, or witnessing the sudden effects of her announcement.
The words had fallen upon her daughter"s heart like the announcement of a doom, and closed up the fountains of her tears. She sat riveted to the chair, incapable of speech, or even of thought. On partially recovering her senses, she found Bertha standing before her. Rising into a paroxysm of struggling emotion, she flung her arms round the neck of the old nurse, and burst into a fit of hysterical weeping. The choking sobs seemed to come from the inmost recesses of her heart, and the burning tears, forcing the closed issues of their fountains, flowed down her cheeks, and dropped on the neck of her confidant. Bertha heard the intelligence, as it was communicated in detached syllables, in silence; and, having placed the unhappy maiden on her chair, sank into a train of thinking, which her young friend attributed to a sympathetic sorrow for her sufferings. The voice of Lady Rollo prevented the expected consolation, and obeying the command of her mistress, Bertha left the apartment, promising to return soon again. The day pa.s.sed, and Matilda, unable to join the company in the western wing of the castle, remained in her apartment, sunk in despondency, and at times verging on the bleak province of despair.
Heedless of the gloom that overhung the minds of mortals, the bright moon rose again in the evening with undiminished splendour, throwing her silver beams over the tear-bedewed face of the sorrowful maiden, whose weeping was increased by the contrast of nature"s loveliness. She sat again at the cas.e.m.e.nt; her eyes wandered heavily over the scene that lay like a fair painting spread before her; the long, dark shadows of the wood, lying by the side of bright, moonlit plots of greensward, with their spangles of dew glittering like diamonds, reminded her of the chequered scenes of life, into the depth of one of the gloomiest of which she was now sunk; and her pain was increased as she felt herself, by the power of fate, contemplating again her wood-bower, which stood fair in the broad light of the moon. A sound struck her ears and called forth her attention. It was that of a lute, and came in dying notes from a distance in the wood. Gradually increasing in distinctness, it seemed to come nearer and nearer; and now she recognised the air that was sung by her preserver on that night when she discovered him. The sound ceased suddenly, and she saw the figure of her preserver emerge from a thick part of the wood and pa.s.s into her bower. The same plaintive air was again raised, and spread around in soft mellifluous strains, suggesting the union, by some process unknown to metaphysical a.n.a.lysis, of light and sound--so connected and blended were the feelings produced by the soft beams of the moon and the sounds of the lute. The blessed sensation pa.s.sed over her racked nerves like the odorous incense of the altar on the excited sensibility of the bleeding victim; her eyes and ears were versant with heaven, while her thoughts were claimed by the evil workings of bad angels; her heart swelled with the conflicting emotions, and a fresh burst of tears afforded her a temporary relief. Her paroxysm over, the soft sounds fell again upon her ear. Retaining her breath to drink deeper of the draught, she heard the notes gradually diminishing, as if the performer were retiring in the wood. He had left the bower un.o.bserved; and the silence that now reigned around announced that he was gone.
For seven successive nights the music in the wood-bower had a.s.suaged the sufferings of the respective days; but for three nights there had been nothing heard but the cry of the screech-owl, and the moon had been illuminating other lands. The period of her sacrifice was drawing nearer and nearer, and the cloud of her sorrow was gradually becoming deeper and darker.
""Tis now three nights since he was in the wood," she said to Bertha.
"My silence and inattention have but ill repaid his services and his pa.s.sion. The sound of his lute has been to me the voice of hope breaking through the clouds of despair. O Bertha! my sense of duty to my parents and the honour of the old house of Roseallan has so nearly perished amidst this persecution, that I could now feel it no crime to throw myself into his arms, and seek in humble worth the protection I cannot procure in the Castle of Roseallan"s master."
"Wisely spoken, my bonny bairn," replied Bertha. "My auld blood boils wi" the pa.s.sion o" youth, and drives frae my heart the grat.i.tude I owe to the proud master and mistress o" Roseallan, as I witness this persecution o" the bonniest and the best o" Scotland"s daughters. The arms o" George Templeton, the archer, the son o" the widow of Mosscairn, can send an arrow beyond the cast o" the best archer o" the Borders; and may weel defend (were he again in health) her for whom the proudest o"
Scotland"s knights would send the last shaft into the heart o" his rival."
"Is that the name of my preserver, Bertha?" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Matilda, in surprise. "How came you by your knowledge? Speak, and relieve me, that I may be certain that I know to whom I owe my life or my honour; and to whom I--unworthy, thankless, ungrateful being that I am!--have not yet vouchsafed one solitary look or word of thanks or grat.i.tude. But what said you of his health? He was wounded for me--ha! Has adverse fate another evil in store for a daughter of affliction?"
"For your sake, my bairn, I traced out this man," replied the old nurse; "but, oh, that I should hae to add anither sorrow to the wo-worn child o" my early affection! He is ill. A wound he received in the wood has become, by ill treatment and exposure, the heart o" a fever that has eaten into the seat o" life."
"And he will die for me--killed by the second and severest wound, of ingrat.i.tude!" cried Matilda, starting up in violent emotion. "With death on him, received in my defence, has he nightly visited the bower of his ungrateful mistress, who never, even by the movement of her evening lamp, showed that she heard his strains, or understood their meaning.
That countenance, streaming with blood, yet beautiful through his life"s stream flowing for me, will haunt me through the short span that misery may allow me. Would to G.o.d that I had returned one token as a mark of my grat.i.tude, if not of my love! Bertha, I must see this man, who holds in his hands the issues of my destiny."
"And ye will, guid child," answered the nurse; "but, should death deprive ye o" this refuge, we may think o" some ither means o" savin ye frae this forced match wi" this high Catholic knight o" Haughhead, wha persecuted the reformers as muckle as he does his lovers. Sir Thomas Courtney--whom your father has banned frae Roseallan--shows as muckle mercy to the Catholics as he does fair-seeming love to his la.s.s-lemans.
But are you able to wander to Mosscairn, child?"