Qnhat weywerde elfin thynge is thaten boie,
That hyngethe still upon myne gaire, as doeth
My synne of harte? And quhome rychte loth; I lofe
With not les hauckerynge. His locent eyne,
And his tungis maiter comethe on myne sense
Lyke a remembourance; or lyke ane dreime
That had delytis in it. Quhen I wolde say
"Begone;" lo then my tung mistakethe quyte,
Or fanceyinge not the terme, it sayethe "Come hidder,
Come hidder, crabbed boie, unto myne syde."
_Old Play._
That evening, after the departure of the noble and distressed Musgrave,
Douglas was sitting all alone musing in a secret apartment of the
pavilion, when he heard a gentle tap at the door. "Who's there?"
inquired he surlily: "It is I, my lor'," said a petulant treble voice
without. "Aha! my excellent nondescript little fellow, Colin Roy, is it
you? Why, you may come in." Colin entered dressed in a most elegant and
whimsical livery, and, forgetting himself, made the Douglas two or three
graceful courtesies instead of bows.
"Aye, hem," said he, "that's very well for the page of a princess. I
suppose you have been studying the graces from your accomplished
mistress? But where have you been all this while? I have felt the loss
of you from my hand grievously."
"I have been waiting on my royal mistress, my lor', informing her of all
that is going on at the siege, and of your good fortune in the late
captures you have made, wherein she rejoices exceedingly, and wishes you
all good fortune and forward success; and, in token of kind remembrance,
she sends you this heart of ruby set in gold and diamonds,--a gem that
befits your lordship well to wear. And many more matters she has given
me in charge, my lor'."
Douglas kissed the locket, and put it in his bosom, and then uttered
abundance of the extravagant bombast peculiar to that age. He called her
his guardian angel, his altar of incense, and the saint of his devotion,
the buckler of his arm, the sword in his hand, and the jewel of his
heart. "Do you think, Colin," added he, "that ever there was a maiden
born like this royal lady of my love?"
"Why, my lor', I am not much skilled in these matters, but I believe the
wench, my mistress, is well enough;--that is, she is well formed. And
yet she is but so so."
"How dare you, you piece of unparalleled impudence, talk of your royal
mistress in that strain? Or where did you ever see a form or features so
elegant, and so bewitchingly lovely?"
"Do you think so?--Well, I'm glad of it. I think she is coarse and
masculine. Where did I ever see such a form, indeed! Yes I have seen a
much finer limb, and an arm, and a hand too! What think you of that for
a hand, my lor'?"--(and with that the urchin clapped his hand on the
green table, first turning up the one side of it and then the
other.)--"I say if that hand were as well kept, and that arm as well
loaden with bracelets, and the fingers with diamond rings, it would be
as handsome as your princess's, of which you boast so much,--aye, and
handsomer too."
"You are a privileged boy, Colin, otherwise I would kick you heartily,
and, moreover, cause you to be whipped by the hand of the common
executioner. However, you are a confidant,--all is well from you; and,
to say the truth, yours is a very handsome hand for a boy's hand,--so is
your arm. But what are they to those of my lovely and royal
Margaret?--mere deformity! the husk to the wheat!"
"Indeed, my lor', you have an excellent taste, and a no less gifted
discernment!"
"I cannot conceive of any earthly being equalling my beauteous princess,
whether in the qualifications of body or mind."
"I rejoice to hear it. How blind love is! Why, in sober reality, there
is the Lady Jane Howard. Is there any comparison between the princess
and that lady in beauty?"
"She is, I confess, a most exquisite creature, Colin, even though rival
to my adorable lady; in justice it must be acknowledged she is _almost_
peerless in beauty. I do not wonder at Musgrave's valour when I see the
object of it. But why do you redden as with anger, boy, to hear my
commendations of that hapless lady?"
"I, my lord? How should I redden with anger? On my honour, craving my
Lord Douglas' pardon, I am highly pleased. I think she is much more
beautiful than you have said, and that, you should have spoken of her in
a more superlative degree, and confessed frankly that you would
willingly exchange your betrothed lady for her. I cannot chuse but think
her very beautiful; too beautiful, indeed, with her blue eyes, white
teeth, and ruddy lips. I dont like such bright blue eyes. I could almost
find in my heart to scratch them out, she is so like a wanton. So you
don't wonder at Lord Musgrave's valour, after having seen his mistress?
Well, I advise your lordship, your captainship, and your besiegership,
that there are some who wonder very much at your want of valour. I tell
you this in confidence. My mistress thinks you hold her charms only at a
small avail, that you have not _gone into_ that castle long ago, and
turned out these Englishmen, or hung them up by the necks if they
refused. Musgrave went in and took it at once, for the favour of his
mistress; because, forsooth, he deemed her worthy of the honour of such
a bold emprize. Why, then, do not you do the same? My mistress, to be
sure, is a woman,--a very woman; but she says this, that it is
superabundantly ungallant of you not to have _gone in_ and taken
possession of the castle long ago. Do you know that (poor kind
creature!) she has retired to a convent, where she continues in a state
of sufferance, using daily invocations at the shrines of saints for your
success. And she has, moreover, made a vow not to braid her hair, nor
dress herself in princely apparel until the day of your final success.
Surely, my lor', you ought _to take that castle_, and relieve my dear
mistress from this durance. I almost weep when I think of her, and must
say with her that she has been shabbily used, and that she has reason to
envy Lady Jane Howard even in her captivity."
"Colin, you are abundantly impertinent: but there is no stopping of
your tongue once it is set a-going. As to the taking of castles, these
things come not under the cognizance of boys or women. But indeed I knew
not that my sovereign lady the princess had absconded from the courtly
circle of her father's palace, and betaken herself to a convent on my
account. Every thing that I hear of that jewel endears her to me the
more."
"What? even her orders for you _to go into the castle_, and put out the
English? I assure you, my lor', she insists upon it. Whether it is her
impatience to be your bride, I know not, but she positively will not be
satisfied unless you very soon _go into that castle_, and put the
Englishmen all to the outside of it, where you are now; or hang them,
and bury them out of sight before she visits the place to congratulate
you."
"Boy, I have no patience with you. Cease your prating, and inform me
where my beloved mistress is, that I may instantly visit her."
"No; not for the Douglas' estate, which is now in the fire, and may
soon be brought to the anvil, will I inform you of that. But, my lor',
you know I must execute my commission. And I tell you again, unless you
take this castle very soon, you will not only lose the favour of my
mistress, but you will absolutely break her heart. Nothing less will
satisfy her. I told her, there was a great moat, more than a hundred
feet deep, and as many wide, that surrounded the castle, and flowed up
to the base of its walls; that there was a large river on each side of
it, and that they were both dammed and appeared like two standing
seas--but all availed nought. 'There is a moat,' said I; 'But let him go
over that,' said she; 'let him swim it, or put a float on it. What is it
to cross a pool a hundred feet wide? How did Lord Musgrave pass over
it?' 'There are strong walls on the other side,' said I: 'But let him go
over these,' said she, 'or break a hole through them and go in. Men
built the walls, why may not men pull them down? How did Musgrave get
over them?' 'There are armed men within,' said I: 'But they are only
Englishmen,' said she; 'Let Douglas' men put their swords into them,
and make them stand back. How did Musgrave get in when it was defended
by gallant Scots? Douglas is either no lover, or else no warrior,' added
she; 'or perhaps he is neither the one nor the other.'"
"Peace, sapling," said Douglas, frowning and stamping with his foot,
"Peace, and leave the pavilion instantly." Colin went away visibly
repressing a laugh, which irritated Douglas still the more; and as the
urchin went, he muttered in a crying whine, "My mistress is very
shabbily used!--very shabbily! To have promised herself to a knight if
he will but take a castle for her, and to have fasted, and prayed, and
vowed vows for him, and yet he dares not go in and take it. And I am
shabbily used too; and that I'll tell her! Turned out before I get half
her message delivered! But I must inform you, my lor', before I go, that
since you are making no better use of the advantage given you, I demand
the prisoners back that I lodged in your hand in my lady mistress' name,
and by her orders."
"I will do no such thing to the whim of a teasing impertinent stripling,
without my lady princess's hand and seal for it," said Douglas.
"You shall not long want that," said Colin; and pulling a letter out
from below his sash, he gave it to him. It was the princess's hand and
seal,--it being an easy matter for Colin to get what letters he listed.
Douglas opened it, and read as follows:
"LORD DOUGLAS,--In token of my best wishes for your success, I send
you these, with greeting. I hope you will take immediate advantage
of the high superiority afforded you in this contest, by putting
some indelible mark, or public stain, on the lusty dame I put into
your hands. If Musgrave be a knight of any gallantry he will never
permit it, but yield. As I cannot attend personally, I request that
the mode and degree of punishment you inflict may be left to my
page Colin. That you have not been successful by such means
already, hath much surprised
MARGARET."
"This is not a requisition to give you up the prisoners," said Douglas,
"but merely a request that the punishment inflicted may be left to you,
a request which must not be denied to the lady of my heart. Now, pray,
Master Colin Roy MacAlpin, what punishment do you decree for the Lady
Jane Howard? For my part, though I intended to threaten the most
obnoxious treatment, to induce my opponent to yield, I could not for my
dearest interests injure the person of that exquisite lady."
"You could not, in good troth? I suppose my mistress has good reason to
be jealous of you two. But since the power is left with me I shall
prevent that; I shall see her punished as she deserves: I'll have no
shameful exposures of a woman, even were she the meanest plebeian, but
I'll mar her beauty that she thinks so much of, and that _you_ think so
much of. I'll have have her nose cut off; and two of her fore teeth
drawn; and her cheeks and brow scolloped. I'll spoil the indecent
brightness of her gloss! She shall not sparkle with such brilliance
again, nor shall the men gloat, feasting their intolerable eyes on her,
as they do at present."
"Saint Duthoe buckler me!" exclaimed the Douglas,--"what an unnatural
tyger cat it is! I have heard that such feelings were sometimes
entertained by one sovereign beauty toward another of the same sex; but
that a sprightly youth, of an amorous complexion, with bright blushing
features and carroty locks, should so depreciate female beauty, and
thirst to deface it, surpasses any thing I have witnessed in the nature
of man. Go to, you are a perverse boy, but shall be humoured as far as
my honour and character as a captain and warrior will admit."
Colin paced lightly away, making a slight and graceful courtesy to the
Douglas as he glided out. "What an extraordinary, wayward, and
accomplished youth that is!" said the chief to himself. "Is it not
strange that I should converse so long with a page, as if he were my
equal? There is something in his manner and voice that overcomes me;
and though he teazes me beyond endurance, there is a sort of enchantment
about him, that I cannot give him the check. Ah me! all who submit
themselves to women, to be swayed by them or their delegates, will find
themselves crossed in every action of importance. I am resolved that no
woman shall sway me. I can love, but have not learned to submit."
Colin retired to his little apartment in the pavilion; it was close to
the apartment that Douglas occupied while he remained there, and not
much longer or broader than the beautiful and romantic inhabitant. Yet
there he constantly abode when not employed about his lord, and never
mixed or conversed with the other pages. Douglas retired down to the
tower, or King's House, as it was called (from king Edward having
occupied it,) at even tide,--but Colin Roy remained in his apartment at
the pavilion. Alas! that Douglas did not know the value of the life he
left exposed in such a place!
On the return of Musgrave into the castle, a council of all the
gentlemen in the fortress was called, and with eager readiness they
attended in the hall of the great western tower. The governor related to
them the heart-rending intelligence of his mistress being in the hands
of their enemies, and of the horrid fate that awaited her, as well as
his only brother, provided the garrison stood out. Every one present
perceived that Musgrave inclined to capitulate; and, as they all admired
him, they pitied his woeful plight. But no one ventured a remark. There
they sat, a silent circle, in bitter and obstinate rumination. Their
brows were plaited down, so as almost to cover their eyes; their under
lips were bent upward, and every mouth shaped like a curve, and their
arms were crossed on their breasts, while every man's right hand
instinctively rested on the hilt of his sword.
Musgrave had taken his measures, whichever way the tide should run. In
consequence of this he appeared more calm and collected at this meeting
than he had done for many a day. "I do not, my friends, and soldiers,
propose any alternative," said he,--"I merely state to you the
circumstances in which we are placed; and according to your sentiments I
mean to conduct myself."
"It is nobly said, brave captain," said Collingwood: "Our case is indeed
a hard one, but not desperate. The Scots cannot take the castle from us,
and shall any one life, or any fifty lives, induce us to yield them the
triumph, and all our skill, our bravery, and our sufferings go for
nought?"
"We have nothing to eat," said Musgrave.
"I'll eat the one arm, and defend the draw-bridge with the other, before
the Scots shall set a foot in the castle," said a young man, named Henry
Clavering. "So will I," said another. "So will I; so will we all!"
echoed through the hall, while a wild gleam of ferocity fired every
haggard countenance. It was evident that the demon of animosity and
revenge was now conjured up, which to lay was not in the power of man.
"What then do you propose as our mode of action in this grievous
dilemma?" said Musgrave.
"I, for my part, would propose decision and ample retaliation," said
Clavering. "Do you not perceive that there has been a great storm in the
uplands last night and this morning, and that the Tweed and Teviot are
roaring like two whirlpools of the ocean, so that neither man nor beast
can cross them? There is no communication between the two great
divisions of the Scottish army to night, save by that narrow passage
betwixt the moat and the river. Let us issue forth at the deepest hour
of midnight, secure that narrow neck of land by a strong guard, while
the rest proceed sword in hand to the eastern camp, surround the
pavilion of Douglas, and take him and all his associates prisoners, and
then see who is most forward in using the rope!"
"It is gallantly proposed, my brave young friend," said Musgrave; "I
will lead the onset myself. I do not only ween the scheme practicable,
but highly promising; and if we can make good that narrow neck of land
against our enemies on the first alarm, I see not why we may not cut off
every man in the eastern division of their army; and haply, from the
camp and city, secure to ourselves a good supply of provisions before
the break of the day."
These were inducements not to be withstood, and there was not one
dissenting voice. A gloomy satisfaction rested on every brow, and
pervaded every look, taking place of dark and hideous incertitude. Like
a winter day that has threatened a tempest from the break of the
morning, but becomes at last no longer doubtful, as the storm descends
on the mountain tops, so was the scene at the breaking up of that
meeting--and all was activity and preparation within the castle during
the remainder of the day.
The evening at last came; but it was no ordinary evening. The storm had
increased in a tenfold degree. The north-west wind roared like thunder.
The sleet descended in torrents, and was driven with an impetuosity that
no living creature could withstand. The rivers foamed from bank to
brae; and the darkness was such as if the heavens had been sealed up.
The sound of the great abbey bell, that rung for vespers, was borne away
on the tempest; so that nothing was heard, save once or twice a solemn
melancholy sound, apparently at a great distance, as if a spirit had
been moaning in the eastern sky.
Animal nature cowered beneath the blast. The hind left not her den in
the wood, nor broke her fast, until the dawning. The flocks crowded
together for shelter in the small hollows of the mountains, and the
cattle lowed and bellowed in the shade. The Scottish soldiers dozed
under their plaids, or rested on their arms within the shelter of their
tents and trenches. Even the outer sentinels, on whose vigilance all
depended, crept into some retreat or other that was next to hand, to
shield them from the violence of the storm. The army was quite
secure,--for they had the garrison so entirely cooped up within their
walls, that no attempt had been made to sally forth for a whole month.
Indeed, ever since the English were fairly dislodged from the city, the
Bush-law, and all the other outworks, the attempt was no more dreaded;
for the heaving up of the portcullis, and the letting down of the
draw-bridge, made such a noise as at once alarmed the Scottish watchers,
and all were instantly on the alert. Besides, the gates and draw-bridges
(for there were two gates and one draw-bridge at each end) were so
narrow, that it took a long time for an enemy to pass in any force; and
thus it proved an easy matter to prevent them. But, that night, the
storm howling in such majesty, and the constant jangling of chains and
pullies swinging to its force, with the roaring of the two rivers over
the dams, formed altogether such a hellish concert, that fifty
portcullises might have been raised, and as many draw-bridges let down,
and the prostrate shivering sentinels of the Scottish army have
distinguished no additional chord or octave in the infernal bravura.
At midnight the English issued forth with all possible silence. Two
hundred, under the command of Grey and Collingwood, were posted on the
castle-green, that is, the narrow valley between the moat and the river
Tweed, to prevent the junction of the two armies on the first alarm
being given. The rest were parted into two divisions; and, under the
command of Musgrave and Henry Clavering, went down the side of each
river so as to avoid the strongest part of the Scottish lines, and the
ramparts raised on the height. Clavering led his division down by the
side of the Teviot, along the bottom of the great precipice, and, owing
to the mingled din of the flood and the storm, was never perceived till
fairly in the rear of the Scottish lines. Musgrave was not so fortunate,
as the main trench ran close to the Tweed. He was obliged to force it
with his first column, which he did with a rapidity which nothing could
equal. The Englishmen threw themselves over the mound of the great
trench, hurling in above their enemies sword in hand, and overpowering
them with great ease; then over one breastwork after another, spreading
consternation before them and carnage behind. Clavering heard nothing
of this turmoil, so intemperate was the night. He stood with impatience,
his men drawn up in order, within half a bow-shot of Douglas's pavilion,
waiting for the signal agreed on; for their whole energy was to be bent
against the tent of the commander, in hopes, not only to capture the
Douglas himself, and all his near kinsmen, but likewise their own
prisoners. At length, among other sounds that began to swell around,
Clavering heard the welcome cry of "DUDDOE'S AWAY!" which was as readily
answered with "DUDDOE'S HERE!" and at one moment the main camp was
attacked on both sides. The flyers from the lines had spread the alarm.
The captain's tent was surrounded by a triple circle of lesser tents,
all full of armed men, who instantly grasped their weapons, and stood on
the defensive. Many rough blows were exchanged at the first onset, and
many of the first ranks of the assailants met their death. But though
those within fought with valour, they fought without system; whereas the
English had arranged every thing previously; and each of them had a
white linen belt, of which the Scots knew nothing; and in the hurry and
terror that ensued, some parties attacked each other, and fell by the
hands of their brethren. Finding soon that the battle raged before and
behind them, they fled with precipitation toward the city; but there
they were waylaid by a strong party, and many of them captured and
slain. The English would have slain every man that fell into their
power, had it not been for the hopes of taking Douglas, or some of his
near kinsmen, and by that means redeeming the precious pledges that the
Scots held, so much to their detriment, and by which all their motions
were paralyzed. Clavering, with a part of the troops under his command,
pursued the flyers that escaped as far as the head of the Market-street,
and put the great Douglas himself into no little dismay; for he found it
next to impossible to rally his men amid the storm and darkness, such a
panic had seized them by this forthbreaking of their enemies. Clavering
would, doubtless, have rifled a part of the city, if not totally ruined
that division of the Scottish army, had he not been suddenly called back
to oppose a more dangerous inroad behind.
When Musgrave first broke through the right wing of the Scottish lines,
the noise and uproar spread amain, as may well be conceived. The warders
on the heights then sounded the alarm incessantly: and a most incongrous
thing it was to hear them sounding the alarm with such vigour at their
posts, after the enemy had passed quietly by them, and at that time were
working havoc in the middle of their camp. They knew not what was astir,
but they made plenty of din with their cow-horns, leaving those that
they alarmed to find out the cause the best way they could.
The Scottish army that beleaguered the castle to the westward caught the
alarm, and rushed to the support of their brethren and commander. The
infantry being first in readiness, were first put in motion, but, on the
narrowest part of the castle green, they fell in with the firm set
phalanx of the English, who received them on the point of their lances,
and, in a few seconds, made them give way. The English could not however
pursue, their orders being to keep by the spot where they were, and
stand firm; so that the Scots had nothing ado but to rally at the head
of the green, and return to the charge. Still it was with no better
success than before. The English stood their ground, and again made them
reel and retreat. But, by this time, the horsemen were got ready, and
descended to the charge at a sharp trot. They were clad in armour, and
had heavy swords by their sides, and long spears like halberds in their
hands. The English lines could not withstand the shock given by these,
for the men were famishing with hunger and benumbed with cold, the wind
blowing with all its fury straight in their faces. They gave way; but
they were neither broken nor dispersed. Reduced as they were, they were
all veterans, and retreated fighting till they came to the barriers
before the draw-bridge; and there, having the advantage of situation,
they stood their ground.
The horsemen passed on to the scene of confusion in the camp, and came
upon the rear of the English host, encumbered with prisoners and spoil.
When Clavering was called back, Douglas, who had now rallied about one
hundred and forty men around him, wheeled about, and followed Clavering
in the rear; so that the English found themselves in the same
predicament that the Scots were in about an hour before,--beset before
and behind,--and that principally by horsemen, which placed them under a
manifest disadvantage.
It is impossible to give any adequate idea of the uproar and desperate
affray that now ensued. The English formed on both sides to defend
themselves; but the prisoners being numerous detained a great part of
the men from the combat. A cry arose to kill the prisoners; from whom it
first issued no one knew, but it no sooner past than the men began to
put it into execution. The order was easier to give than perform:
in half a minute every one of the guards had a prisoner at his
throat,--the battle became general,--every one being particularly
engaged through all the interior of the host, many of them struggling in
pairs on the earth, who to get uppermost, and have the mastery. It was
all for life, and no exertion was withheld; but, whenever these single
combats ended in close gripes, the Scots had the mastery, their bodies
being in so much better condition. They made a great noise, both
individually and in their files, but the English scarcely opened their
mouths; like bred mastiffs, when desperately engaged, they only aimed at
the vital parts of their opponents, without letting their voices be
heard.
It is vain at this period to attempt giving a better description of the
scenes of that night, for the men that were present in the affray could
give no account of it next day. But, after a hard encounter and heavy
loss, the English fought their way up to their friends before the
ramparts, who had all the while been engaged in skirmishing with the
foot of the western division, whom they had kept at bay, and thus
preserved the entrance clear to themselves and brethren; but ere the
rear had got over the half-moon before the bridge, it was heaped full of
slain.
There were more of the Scots slain during the conflict of that hideous
night than of the English; but by far the greater number of prisoners
remained with the former, and several of them were men of note; but such
care was taken to conceal rank and titles, after falling into the hands
of their enemies, that they could only be guessed at. De Gray was slain,
and Collingwood was wounded and taken; so that on taking a muster next
day, the English found themselves losers by their heroic sally.
They had, however, taken one prize, of which, had they known the value,
it would have proved a counterbalance, for all their losses, and all the
distinguished prisoners that formerly told against them. This was no
other than the pretended page, Colin Roy, of whose sex and quality the
reader has been formerly apprised, and whom they found concealed among
some baggage in the Douglas' tent. Grievous was that page's plight when
he found himself thrust into a vault below the castle of Roxburgh, among
forty rude soldiers, many of them wounded, and others half-naked, and
nothing given them to subsist on. Concealment of his true sex for any
length of time was now impossible, and to divulge the secret certain
ruin to himself and the cause of Douglas.
Next day he pleaded hard for an audience of Musgrave, on pretence of
giving him some information that deeply concerned himself; and he
pleaded with such eloquence that the guards listened to him, and
informed the commander, who ordered the stripling to be brought before
him. The next day following was that appointed for the execution of Sir
Richard Musgrave. Colin informed the governor that, if he would give him
his liberty, he would procure a reprieve for his brother, at least until
the day of the Conception, during which period something might occur
that would save the life of so brave a youth; that he was the only man
on earth who had the power to alter the purpose of Douglas in that
instance; and that he would answer with his head for the success,--only
the charm required immediate application.
Musgrave said it was a coward's trick to preserve his own life,--for how
could he answer to him for his success when he was at liberty? But that
no chance might be lost for saving his brother's life, he would cause
him to be conducted to Douglas under a strong guard, allow him what time
he required to proffer his suit, and have him brought back to prison
till the day of the Conception was over, and if he succeeded he should
then have his liberty. This was not exactly what Colin wanted: However,
he was obliged to accept of the terms, and proceeded to the gate under a
guard of ten men. The Scots officer of the advanced guard refused to let
any Englishman pass, but answered with his honour to conduct the
stripling in safety to his commander, and in two hours return him back
to the English at the draw-bridge. No more was required; and he was
conducted accordingly to the door of Douglas' tent, which, as he
desired, he was suffered to enter, the men keeping guard at the door.
In the confusion of that morning, Douglas never had missed the page, nor
knew he that he was taken prisoner; and when the boy entered from his
own little apartment, he judged him to be in attendance as usual. He had
a bundle below his arm tied up in a lady's scarf, and a look that
manifested great hurry and alarm. The Douglas, who was busily engaged
with two knights, could not help noting his appearance, at which he
smiled.
"My lord," said the boy, "I have an engagement of great importance
to-day, and the time is at hand. I cannot get out at the door by reason
of the crowd, who must not see this. Will it please you to let me pass
by your own private door into the city?"
Douglas cursed him for a troublesome imp, and forthwith opened the door
into the concealed way; and as all who came from that door passed
unquestioned, the page quickly vanished in the suburbs of the city.
The officer and his guard waited and waited until the time was on the
point of expiring, and at last grew quite impatient, wondering what the
boy could be doing so long with the commander. But at length, to their
mortal astonishment, they beheld the stripling coming swaggering up from
the high street of the city behind them, putting a number of new and
ridiculous airs in practice, and quite unlike one going to be delivered
up to enemies to be thrown into a dungeon, or perhaps hanged like a dog
in a day or two.
The officer knew nothing of the concealed door and passage, and was lost
in amazement how the page should have escaped from them all without
being visible; but he wondered still more how the elf, being once at
liberty, should have thought of coming strutting back to deliver himself
up again.
"Where the devil have you been, master, an it be your will?" said the
officer.
"Eh? What d'ye say, mun?" said the unaccountable puppy. "What do I say
mun!" replied the officer, quite unable to account either for the
behaviour of the prisoner or his address; "I say I trow ye hae seen sic
a man as Michael Scott some time in your days? Ye hae gi'en me the
glaiks aince by turning invisible; but be ye deil, be ye fairy, I sal
secure ye now. Ye hae nearly gart me brik my pledge o' honour, whilk I
wadna hae done for ten sic necks as yours."
"Your pledge o' honour? What's that, mun? Is that your bit sword? Stand
back out o' my gate."
"Shakel my knackers," said the officer laughing, "if I do not crack thy
fool's pate! What does the green-kail-worm mean? You, sir, I suppose are
presuming to transact a character? You are playing a part in order to
get off, but your silly stratagem will fail you. Pray, my young master,
what character do you at present appear in?"
"Character me no characters!" said the page,--it is not with you that I
transact--nor such as you! Do not you see who I am, and what commission
I bear? Bide a great way back out o' my gate an ye please; and show me
where I am to deliver this."
"And who is that bald epistle for, master Quipes? Please to open your
sweet mouth, and read me the inscription."
"Do you not see, saucy axe-man? Cannot you spell it? 'To James, Earl of
Douglas and Mar, with greeting, These.' Herald me to your commander,
nadkin; but keep your distance--due proportioned distance, if you
please."
"No, no, my little crab cherry; you cheated me by escaping from the tent
invisible before, but shall not do it again. We'll get your message done
for you; your time is expired, and some more to boot, I fear; come along
with us."--And forthwith one of their number waited on the chief with
the letter, while the rest hauled off the unfortunate page, and
delivered him back to the English.