Under the directions of Megret the towers and walls of Ravensten were
blown up, to render them forever after incapable of serving as a place
of shelter for similar bands. The wounded Mac Donalbain and his
companions were secured in the prisons of Umea, and Christine with her
child conveyed to Gyllensten, where her aged father, his iron
constitution finally overpowered by his sorrows, lay dangerously ill.
The chief judge had summoned the associate justices of his court to the
sessions-chamber of the city hall of Umea, for the trial of the
criminals. Arwed and Megret were present; the former at his uncle's
request, and the latter, that he might witness the entire outpouring of
the cup of vengeance; and, supported by his keeper and laden with
chains, Mac Donalbain appeared before his judges. Harassed and
tormented by his wounds, he staggered here and there, with difficulty
holding himself upright; but his spirit remained unbroken, and his dark
eyes flashed upon the assembly with all their former fierceness. Megret
beheld the scene with a smile of internal satisfaction. Arwed gave a
look of sympathy to the unhappy man, and then whispered a request to
the judge. The latter nodded. The bailiffs took off Mac Donalbain's
chains and placed a stool for him, upon which he seated himself with a
look of gratitude towards Arwed.
'Tell us your true name, your rank, and your native country,' commenced
the judge with solemn earnestness.
'Gregor Mac Donalbain,' answered the prisoner; 'a nobleman of the
highlands of Scotland.'
'Do you still continue, with shameless effrontery, to make that
assertion?' interposed Megret.
'Forget not, colonel,' cried Mac Donalbain with vehemence, 'that here
you have no right to question me, and that I do not acknowledge any
obligation to answer you.'
'Neither should you forget,' said Megret, with bitterness, 'that pride
and insolence will make your bad cause still worse, and forever close
the door of mercy which true repentance and humility may perhaps
otherwise open for you.'
'You would indeed very willingly see me, overpowered by the fear of
death, begging my life at your feet,' rejoined Mac Donalbain,
disdainfully. 'But you may as well resign all hope of that pleasure. I
reject and scorn all mercy for which I must be indebted to you.'
The judge commanded both of them to be silent. 'Admitting the
correctness of your statement,' said he to Mac Donalbain, 'how is it
possible that you could stain your nobility by abandoning yourself to
so horrible and reprobate a profession?'
'It was my fate!' answered Mac Donalbain doggedly, and casting his eyes
upon the ground.
'So, but too often, does man name the consequences of his passions and
his crimes!' remarked the judge.
'So,' said Mac Donalbain, 'may this name be often applied to the
injustice which an unfortunate man suffers from his brethren, when that
injustice impels him to deeds which else would have been abhorrent to
his soul. A cruel injury to my honor, which I suffered in the service
of the British king, threw me into the arms of the English buccaneers.
My name became known and feared in both the eastern and western oceans.
The lords of the earth, however they may indulge in similar enterprizes
on a great scale for the accomplishment of their projects, array
themselves against little private exploits. Excluded from the ports of
all civilized nations, we were at length compelled to seek an asylum in
Africa. We found one in Madagascar. There we heard of the return of the
hero of the north to his own country. We hoped that this prince, fond
of war, and compelled as he was to engage in it, would receive us with
open arms. Offering to him our services, we proposed to enter the port
of Gottenburg with sixty sail of vessels. Two of his nobility closed a
treaty with us in his name. I was sent here before the arrival of the
fleet to prepare every thing for its reception; but a fever seized me
at Gottenburg; and before my recovery the king fell before
Frederickshall. Storms, and Europe's _licensed_ pirates, annihilated
our fleet upon its way hither, and when at length I arose from my bed
of sickness I was a beggar. There was no longer any hope of the
fulfilment of the royal promise. With Charles's seal and signature for
the rank of colonel, I could not even obtain a company. Then again
awoke in me the bitter hatred of mankind. My last hope to live and fall
as an honorable soldier, was destroyed. The country which denied me my
well acquired rights, threw me back to the state of nature, in which
every man sustains and defends himself by his own natural powers. I
then felt myself authorized to make war upon my enemies, and take what
I needed with the strong hand. A band of unfortunates, who like me had
nothing to lose, chose me for their leader, and the struggle between
myself and the crown of Sweden began. I have been overcome and am
therefore in the wrong;--for which reason I pray you quickly to break
the staff of justice over my head. I am ready to die.'
'Dreadful man!' cried the judge. 'Have you also such sophisms in
readiness to excuse the misery and shame you have brought upon a noble
house within whose walls you were hospitably received?'
'That is the curse of my life,' cried Mac Donalbain, repentantly, 'for
which I cannot answer. For that must I call down justice upon myself.
However hard your sentence may fall upon me, by that alone have I
deserved it, and willingly bow myself before the chastening hand of the
law.'
'It is the request of my uncle,' said Arwed to the judge, 'that all the
wrongs which Mac Donalbain has perpetrated against our house should be
passed over without investigation.'
'What, even the attempt against his excellency's person?' indignantly
asked the judge, whilst Megret in silent anger ground the floor with
his spurred heel.
'The band,' said Arwed, 'among whom the governor had accidentally
fallen, wished to murder him for their own safety. Mac Donalbain
preserved the old man's life by risking his own. Even the imprisonment
was but a measure resorted to for that purpose. I also have to thank
this man for the preservation of my life. He would have a strong
counter reckoning to make with us. Therefore let one account be
considered as balanced by the other.'
'I am astonished,' spitefully observed Megret, 'that my lord the
governor has not proposed an amnesty for his dear son-in-law.'
'My uncle,' answered Arwed with earnestness, 'can pardon injuries
personal to himself; but he will never allow himself to interrupt the
just operation of the laws. With us Mac Donalbain has made his peace.
He has now to reconcile himself with the laws and satisfy the demands
of public justice, if need be, with his blood!'
'Oh, would to God it might be so!' cried Mac Donalbain. 'With my
present feelings life would be to me a most sad and unwelcome gift.'
A disturbance was now heard without the session-room. The door flew
open, and the breathless Christine, with her child in her arms, pressed
irresistibly through the crowd of officers who sought to hold her
back.
'This trial also!' sighed Mac Donalbain, turning away his face.
'In God's name, the countess Gyllenstierna!' cried the astonished
judge.
'I was the countess Gyllenstierna,' said Christine. 'I am now the
wedded wife of the brigand leader, Mac Donalbain, and my place is by
his side, in chains or upon the gallows.'
'Christine! how could you afflict your father by this second shameful
flight?' Arwed reproachingly asked.
'My father's life,' answered Christine, 'was already empoisoned beyond
remedy by my guilt. Therefore allow me the merit of having fulfilled my
duty towards at least _one_ being in the world, my husband. He is a
prisoner, and suffering in body and mind. He needs care and
consolation; and from whom can he expect either, if not from her who
has bound her fate with his for this life by a solemn oath before God's
altar.'
'Have you then really married the criminal?' Megret anxiously asked.
Christine gave him a scornful look and remained silent; but when the
question was repeated by the judge, she drew a sealed paper from her
bosom and laid it upon his table.
'A Gyllenstierna can never wholly fall,' said she proudly. 'The old
curate of Lyksale, constrained by my tears, secretly married us a short
time before his death.'
'This evidence,' said the judge, 'speaks _against_ your wish to share
the criminal's chains. Bound to him by the holy ties of marriage, you
become guiltless of the crimes in which he is implicated, in which your
will had no part. There is no reasonable ground for your detention, and
nothing remains but to send you back to your father.'
'Torture me not with this well-meant chicanery!' exclaimed Christine.
'Would you counsel me to ascertain which is deepest, the Umea or my
misery? Or would you that I should strangle myself with the braids of
my hair? So true as the Lord liveth, I will not be torn living from my
husband.'
'Let it be as she wishes,' begged Arwed of the judge.
'I shall perhaps take a heavy responsibility upon myself,' answered the
latter with strong emotion. 'But who could withstand her intercession?
Be it so.'
'Courage, Mac Donalbain!' now exhorted Christine. 'We have men for our
judges. They will listen to your defence with merciful hearts, and thus
at least your life will be saved.'
'I desire not life, nor will I ask for mercy!' cried Mac Donalbain,
wildly. 'My deeds are my own, and the son of my father is not
accustomed to excuse or palliate them, especially to save a miserable
life!'
'You speak as becomes a man and a Scottish nobleman,' said Christine;
'yet must I be allowed to speak for you as becomes your truly wedded
wife. Therefore I beg of you, my lords, give that gracious hearing
which you hope God will one day give you!'
'What can you offer in defence of a convicted highway robber?' asked
the judge, with some appearance of sympathy.
'The heaven-crying injustice of the government!' eagerly exclaimed
Christine, 'which forcibly impelled the unhappy man upon his criminal
career. The indulgence which has been shown to similar transgressions.
The case of the Danish deserter, who received from Charles XII great
rewards and a license to rob for his own benefit, proves how mildly
such transgressions have hitherto been judged in our father-land.'
'However clear may be the precedent you cite to us,' said the judge,
'it cannot be applied to the present case. Neither was this absolute
sovereign authorised to grant such unheard of privileges, which, if
true, owes its origin but to one of Charles's strange caprices; as the
property of the subjects must be deemed sacred by the king, who is
indeed their natural protector.'
'My maternal inheritance shall repair the wrong which Mac Donalbain has
inflicted upon the country!' cried Christine.
'Can you make reparation for the innocent blood which has been shed by
your husband's hand?' asked the judge with impressive solemnity.
'The resistance he opposed to the attack was self-defence!' cried
Christine; 'besides, none of the assailants fell by his sword; and with
that exception he has preserved his hands pure from the blood of his
fellow men.'
'By no means!' answered the judge. 'The traveler upon the road to
Lulea, and the unhappy Laplander, who conducted the governor to that
den of murderers, are dumb witnesses of your husband's guilt.'
'By the God of heaven, Mac Donalbain is not guilty of their death!'
cried Christine in tones of the deepest anguish. 'Ask the band, and, if
either of them accuse my husband, let us both die the shameful death of
criminals.'
'We would indeed very willingly hear the truth, at last, from his
companions. But in their examinations they have denied all knowledge of
the crimes of which they have been guilty, with unparalleled
impudence.'
'The knaves deny!' cried Mac Donalbain, springing upon his feet. 'They
must consider me dead or as having escaped, else they would not dare to
do it, for they know me. Let them be brought here,--let them be placed
before my eyes. I will reckon with them in a manner which shall change
their minds.'
'It may not be advisable,' observed Megret; 'it may give them an
opportunity for secret collusion.'
'I am of a different opinion, colonel,' answered the judge, directing
the bailiff to bring in the band. 'This man is so bold and frank that
we need not fear artifice.'
A long, deep silence ensued. Christine, weeping in silence, had seated
herself upon Mac Donalbain's stool, and was absorbed in the
contemplation of the blooming child, which with an angel smile was
sleeping on her bosom. The brigand leader had kneeled down and hid his
face in her lap, whilst her white fingers wandered among his black and
curled locks. Megret looked with dark burning glances, and Arwed with
the deepest sympathy upon the group, while the judge said, sighing;
'the office of a judge is sometimes very difficult to administer!'
A noise was now heard in the ante-room. Arms and chains rattled, and
twelve fiend-like ruffians, in heavy chains and strongly guarded by
bailiffs and soldiers, stepping in exact time, without recognizing or
noticing Mac Donalbain, marched in and formed in exact line on the
space before the bench.
'We have again summoned you,' began the chief judge, 'to repeat our
exhortations to confess the truth, and once more to lead your minds to
the conviction, that by persisting in your shameless denials, you only
prolong the examination and your own imprisonment--that you expose
yourselves to the torture of the rack, and moreover increase the
severity of your punishment, the mitigation of which you can only hope
from a free and full confession. Consider, unhappy men, that my present
request is made with the kindest intentions. He, only, who honestly
acknowledges and repents of his sins can hope for a merciful judgment
here or hereafter.'
'It is quite pathetic and affecting to hear,' answered the most
hardened of the prisoners, 'that such a lord as you should so far
condescend to us miserable people, as to beg where you are accustomed
only to command. We cannot indeed particularly wish to hasten an
examination which with us is to end with the gallows, especially if we
should say yes to all of which we are suspected to be guilty. The
mitigation of punishment, with which judges always embellish their
promises to prisoners, in requital of candid confessions, appears to me
like the little book mentioned in the revelations of St. John, 'sweet
in the mouth and bitter in the belly.' We know of many examples where
prisoners have fared worse for speaking than for keeping silent.
However it may be with others, we have not the least desire to talk
away our own lives. Concerning the rack, which judges always present as
the other alternative, we must submit to it as well as we may, all of
us having strong frames and stout hearts. Nevertheless we would give
you every information without the rack, if any we had. What we do know,
we have honestly related; and it certainly is not our fault if you will
not believe us.'
'Do you persist, then, in denying the robberies of which you are
already as good as convicted?' asked the judge.
'We deny nothing,' insolently answered the prisoner, 'nor do we
acknowledge anything; for we have committed no crime. We are honest
Finlanders, who follow hunting through half the Lappmark, and had our
head quarters upon the Ravensten.'
'And do you really know nothing of Black Naddock?' further asked the
judge.
'We have heard some tales about the arrant rogue,' answered the
brigand, 'but the devil knows more about him than we. There was indeed
a Moor, who begged a lodging of us last night, and I thought I saw him
again in the morning, when we were attacked by the dragoons and their
companions; but whether he was or was not Naddock, is more than I can
say. I do not know the man.'
'You do not know me, rascal?' cried Mac Donalbain, springing forward,
and striking his brother robber to the earth with his fist.
'The captain!' was murmured along the ranks, and, fronting their chief,
the robbers laid their right hands upon their hearts, in token of
respectful greeting.
'Must I suffer this from people whom I have commanded?' angrily
exclaimed Mac Donalbain. 'You have held out like heroes, against men
and elements, and do you now, equivocate like common thieves from a
miserable fear of death? Know that I have disclosed everything to the
court, and further, that I will freely answer every question they can
put to me. Do you wish to give the lie to your captain?'
'God forbid!' stammered one of the band. 'We should be disgraced for
life!' cried another; and the former speaker, who by this time had
risen from the floor, cried, 'let your crook-backed secretary nib his
pen afresh, sir judge. We will now sing the song that you lords will
but too willingly hear from such poor devils as we. Write! Everything
that our captain has confessed is true from the beginning to the end.'
'Well now,' cried Megret, who could restrain himself no longer; 'you
see that you may now, if you please, repay your captain for all the
misfortunes he has brought upon you. The sinful ties which connected
you with him are cut asunder, and you have no reason to spare him in
the least. So tell the court freely and frankly--'who murdered the
traveler on the road to Lulea?'
'That,' answered the robber with eagerness and proud satisfaction, 'was
done by a brace of gallows-birds who did not belong to our band, but
marauded on their own account, and we beg not to be confounded with
them. Had we caught them we should ourselves have hung them upon the
nearest tree; for we could not with indifference have permitted such
good-for-nothing fellows to injure our reputation.'
'And who killed the poor Laplander, who was found hung upon the
fir-tree before the entrance to your den?' asked the judge.
'Red Hialf,' answered the prisoner; 'but without orders. In consequence
of which our captain arrested him, and on the morning when we were
attacked, he was to have had his trial. He must have been found locked
up in the vault of the second tower.'
'That place was not searched!' cried Arwed, with a shudder.
'He must have been blown into the air with the tower,' said Megret.
'There can be no question of it.'
'You must now be convinced,' said Christine, approaching the judge,
'that my husband is innocent of every murderous deed. Can you now give
me any hope for him?'
'I should consider it great presumption to give you any,' answered the
judge, 'and unjust to withhold it entirely. Our laws are severe and my
duties strict. Yet can the queen pardon. Leave the decision to God!'
He directed the bailiffs to replace Mac Donalbain's chains. Christine
watched the proceeding in silent sadness, bowed with a sweet and
melancholy grace to the judges, and, supporting her child with one arm
and her husband with the other, she moved with him from the room. Arwed
and Megret followed her.
'Is it really your unalterable resolution, countess,' whispered the
latter to her, 'to share the imprisonment of a villain, instead of
fulfilling a daughter's duty by the sick bed of your noble father?'
But Christine turned away without answering him, and approached Arwed.
'Thy spirit breathed upon me in the court room,' said she with strong
emotion. 'For the kindness I met there, I am indebted to thy benignant
heart. Tire not! I well know that we are not worthy of all you are
doing for us; but you are accustomed to the performance of all that is
good and great, and will of yourself consummate your work, for its own
sake, regardless of the object. Save but the life of this unhappy man,
and you shall have my eternal gratitude.'
'Listen not to her prayer, count,' cried Mac Donalbain, 'but suffer me
to seek in the grave that peace which life can henceforth never give
me.'
The conversation was interrupted by the guards whose duty it was to
conduct the prisoners to their dungeon. Christine, shuddering, left
Arwed, to follow her husband, '_Diable! Elle aime le larron, et elle
l'aimera jusqu'a la potence!_' cried the enraged and despairing Megret
as he rushed out.