DAVID FALCONER.
"Then on my mind a shadow fell,
And evil hopes grew rife;
The damning thought stuck in my heart,
And cut me like a knife,--
That she whom all my days I loved
Should be another's wife!"
_Summer and Winter Hours_
With the last words of Barton ringing in his ears and rousing a voice
of reproach in his heart, Lord Drummond flung aside his velvet cloak
and descended into the garden, which was at the back of the mansion,
and lay between it and the margin of the river. Some remembrance of
happier, and perhaps of less ambitious days came over his memory; he
felt something of remorse for having so ruthlessly delivered over his
daughter's plighted husband to the violence of his enemies; but as he
had no wish either to alter the deadly cast of the die, or to hear
the clashing of the assassins' swords in the street without, he
walked through the garden hurriedly and muttered--
"I have done wrong--I have acted ignobly, and not as Robert Barton
would have done by me, or to the meanest in Scotland! Yet I did not
tell him to love my daughter Effie--and Home and Hailes shall both be
earls, if swords and lances can make them so. Yet--yet--tush! I
have behaved like an old wolf. But there was no remedy--I had
betrayed too much to him; so cold steel must seal his lips for ever.
And yet, alack! those lips have often been upon poor Effie's cheek.
No--no--let me not think of it!----But who is this? A captain of the
king's arquebussiers--and Sybilla too;--pest! here is another lover!"
Beside the bower he saw Sir David Falconer lying upon the ground with
the scarf of Hailes (which he knew well) twisted round his throat.
The young man was not dead, but nearly strangled, and was now
beginning to recover. Near him, on her knees in a stupor of grief,
with blood-shot eyes, and with her dress disordered, Sybilla was
sobbing. Powerless and unable to rise, she stretched her hands to
her father, saying--
"Save him, father--save him!"
For a moment the heart of the ambitious old man was touched; he
forgot that he had basely surrendered Barton to destruction, or
remembered it only with an emotion of terror; and now he hastened to
save Falconer. He freed his compressed throat from the rich silk and
golden scarf of Lord Hailes, and opened the collar of his velvet
doublet to afford him air; he bathed his face and hands in the bright
salt water of the firth that was rippling on the yellow sands close
by, and in a few minutes the rescued man was able to raise himself
upon his hands and look around him. Sybilla, still kneeling beside
him, placed an arm caressingly around his livid neck, and while
glancing thankfully and imploringly at her father, placed her
trembling lips to the distorted brow of her lover, murmuring--
"Joy, joy--oh, David, dearest David, thou art still spared to me!"
"Good morrow, fair sir," said Lord Drummond, grimly. "Now what am I
to understand by all this?"
"That your lordship--has--has saved me from a cruel death,--from a
death the coward hands of Home and Hailes destined for me--for me who
never wronged them," said Falconer, with difficulty, and at intervals.
Sybilla wept aloud, and again wrung her pretty hands.
"Hold, little one," said her father; "this noisy exhibition of love
and grief but little beseems a noble lady. Though one of King
James's new-fangled knights, do you forget that this man is but the
son of a merchant skipper?"
Though this was said in a low voice Falconer heard it, and it gave
him new energy. Slowly and tremblingly he rose to his feet and said--
"My lord, with your daughter's love and your esteem I could achieve
anything--Yea, I could ennoble myself,--yet both were alone
sufficient to ennoble any man."
Unsubdued by this compliment, the proud old noble made a gesture of
impatience.
"Another lover!" he muttered, stamping his spurred heel on the gravel
walk; "was there ever a poor man so pestered by three gadabout
daughters? This will be another fellow for us to kill, I suppose."
"Ah, my lord, if you knew how I love her, and how to me her love is a
richer and a greater treasure than our good king's favour."
"The king's favour? Umph--a poor inheritance to-day, perhaps a
poorer one to-morrow!"
"How, my lord," said Falconer, anxiously; "what is it you mean?"
"You will soon learn, for this night perhaps may see those standards
which we furled at Blackness unrolled against the king. He who
serves James is the foe of the nobility; he who is the foe of the
nobility is also mine. So come, Sir David, get thee gone to thy
ship, for the day wears apace, and I would not for the brightest
jewel in my coronet have my daughter seen in this unseemly dress.
Thou knowest this infernal king has stolen her sister, and that I'll
have sure vengeance; yea, by Him who preached in Jerusalem and died
on Calvary, I will! Come madam, come----"
A shout interrupted the old lord's sudden burst of anger; bright
dresses and glittering swords were visible among the shrubbery; Home,
Hailes, and their friends, smarting with wounds, bruises, and anger,
after their conflict in the adjoining street, came tumultuously
towards the bower, for they had resolved on hanging Falconer's body
at the market-cross, in reparation of what they termed their wounded
honour.
Sybilla uttered a cry of terror; again her heart trembled and stood
still; but she threw herself with outstretched arms before her still
feeble lover, whom the ferocious assailants again recognized and
greeted with a shout.
"How now, my lords and gentlemen," exclaimed Lord Drummond,
unsheathing his sword; "would ye commit hamesücken? Respect my
presence, my property, and authority, if you regard not the life of
this man, or the powers of the Lord High Constable? Are the rights
of the baronage and nobility to be infringed by the nobles
themselves? In the streets or highways slay as many as you please;
but here, even a dog's life is sacred."
"We have sworn to hang this half-strangled parasite of James at the
market-cross, and hanged he shall be!" replied Hailes, making a
deadly thrust with his sword, which was skilfully parried by Lord
Drummond, yet it passed within three inches of Falconer's heart.
"Thank you, my good lord," said the latter; "I am weak, but will
rather trust to my own limbs than to your power of protection, or to
their humanity. Adieu, dear Sybilla, and may God bless thee, kind
one, for we may never meet again."
He staggered towards the water, and rushed in until beyond his depth,
and then struck out to reach the ship.
Like a herd of wild animals disappointed of their prey, his
tormentors sprang after him, midleg into the water; but he was
already beyond the reach of their swords. They then hurled stones
from the beach, and two tall Highland gillies, who had followed
Balloch from Lochlomond side, strung their bows and shot their
feathered shafts after him, but without success; for, weak as he was,
Falconer was an expert swimmer, and was soon far beyond bowshot.
After all he had undergone, it was evident that he never could reach
the ships without succour; but, fortunately, the uproar or the beach
had been observed by the watch on deck; the fainting swimmer was seen
to make signals of distress; a boat was piped away and lowered; and
just as poor Falconer was slowly and despairingly relaxing his
efforts, and sinking beneath the calm glassy current of the river, he
was seized by the strong nervous hands of Willie Wad and Cuddie
Clewline, and dragged on board.
Sybilla uttered a cry of joy and fainted, just as the first cannon of
the royal salute pealed over the shining river.