_Rosalind_. Well, this is the Forest of Arden.
_Touchstone_. Ay, now am I in Arden; the more fool I. When I
was at
home I was in a better place; but travellers must be content.
_Rosalind_. Ay, be so, good Touchstone. Look you, who comes
here; a
young man and an old, in solemn talk.
As You Like It. _Scene IV. Act 2_.
As the travellers spoke together, they reached a turn of the path which
presented a more extensive prospect than the broken face of the country
had yet shown them. A valley, through which flowed a small tributary
stream, exhibited the wild, but not unpleasant, features of "a lone
vale of green braken;" here and there besprinkled with groups of
alder-trees, of hazels, and of copse-oakwood, which had maintained
their stations in the recesses of the valley, although they had
vanished from the loftier and more exposed sides of the hills. The
farm-house or mansion-house, (for, from its size and appearance, it
might have been the one or the other,) was a large but low building,
and the walls of the out-houses were sufficiently strong to resist any
band of casual depredators. There was nothing, however, which could
withstand a more powerful force; for, in a country laid waste by war,
the farmer was then, as now, obliged to take his chance of the great
evils attendant upon that state of things; and his condition, never a
very eligible one, was rendered considerably worse by the insecurity
attending it. About half a mile farther was seen a Gothic building of
very small extent, having a half dismantled chapel, which the minstrel
pronounced to be the Abbey of Saint Bride. "The place," he said, "I
understand, is allowed to subsist, as two or three old monks and as
many nuns, whom it contains, are permitted by the English to serve God
there, and sometimes to give relief to Scottish travellers; and who
have accordingly taken assurance with Sir John de Walton, and accepted
as their superior a churchman on whom he thinks he can depend. But if
these guests happen to reveal any secrets, they are, by some means or
other, believed to fly towards the English governor; and therefore,
unless your ladyship's commands be positive, I think we had best not
trust ourselves to their hospitality."
"Of a surety, no," said the lady, "if thou canst provide me with
lodgings where we shall have more prudent hosts."
At this moment, two human forms were seen to approach the farm-house in
a different direction from the travellers, and speaking so high, in a
tone apparently of dispute, that the minstrel and his companion could
distinguish their voices though the distance was considerable. Having
screened his eyes with his hand for some minutes, Bertram at length
exclaimed, "By our Lady, it is my old friend, Tom Dickson, sure
enough!--What can make him in such bad humour with the lad, who, I
think, may be the little wild boy, his son Charles, who used to run
about and plait rushes some twenty years ago? It is lucky, however, we
have found our friends astir; for I warrant, Tom hath a hearty piece of
beef in the pot ere he goes to bed, and he must have changed his wont
if an old friend hath not his share; and who knows, had we come later,
at what hour they may now find it convenient to drop latch and draw
bolt so near a hostile garrison; for if we call things by their right
names, such is the proper term for an English garrison in the castle of
a Scottish nobleman."
"Foolish man," answered the lady, "thou judgest of Sir John de Walton
as thou wouldst of some rude boor, to whom the opportunity of doing
what he wills is a temptation and license to exercise cruelty and
oppression. Now, I could plight you my word, that, setting apart the
quarrel of the kingdoms, which, of course, will be fought out in fair
battles on both sides, you will find that English and Scottish, within
this domain, and within the reach of Sir John de Walton's influence,
live together as that same flock of sheep and goats do with the
shepherd's dog; a foe from whom they fly upon certain occasions, but
around whom they nevertheless eagerly gather for protection should a
wolf happen to show himself."
"It is not to your ladyship," answered Bertram, "that I should venture
to state my opinion of such matters; but the young knight, when he is
sheathed in armour, is a different being from him who feasts in halls
among press of ladies; and he that feeds by another man's fireside, and
when his landlord, of all men in the world, chances to be the Black
Douglas, has reason to keep his eyes about him as he makes his
meal:--but it were better I looked after our own evening refreshment,
than that I stood here gaping and talking about other folk's matters."
So saying, he called out in a thundering tone of voice, "Dickson!--what
ho, Thomas Dickson!--will you not acknowledge an old friend who is much
disposed to trust his supper and night's lodging to your hospitality?"
The Scotchman, attracted by the call, looked first along the banks of
the river, then upward to the bare side of the hill, and at length cast
his eyes upon the two figures who were descending from it.
As if he felt the night colder while he advanced from the more
sheltered part of the valley to meet them, the Douglas Dale farmer
wrapped closer around him the grey plaid, which, from an early period,
has been used by the shepherds of the south of Scotland, and the
appearance of which gives a romantic air to the peasantry and middle
classes; and which, although less brilliant and gaudy in its colours,
is as picturesque in its arrangement as the more military tartan mantle
of the Highlands. When they approached near to each other, the lady
might observe that this friend of her guide was a stout athletic man,
somewhat past the middle of life, and already showing marks of the
approach, but none of the infirmities, of age, upon a countenance which
had been exposed to many a storm. Sharp eyes, too, and a quick
observation, exhibited signs of vigilance, acquired by one who had
lived long in a country where he had constant occasion for looking
around him with caution. His features were still swollen with
displeasure; and the handsome young man who attended him seemed to be
discontented, like one who had undergone no gentle marks of his
father's indignation, and who, from the sullen expression which mingled
with an appearance of shame on his countenance, seemed at once affected
by anger and remorse.
"Do you not remember me, old friend?" said Bertram, as they approached
within a distance for communing; "or have the twenty years which have
marched over us since we met, carried along with them all remembrance
of Bertram, the English minstrel?"
"In troth," answered the Scot, "it is not for want of plenty of your
countrymen to keep you in my remembrance, and I have hardly heard one
of them so much as whistle
'Hey, now the day dawns,'
but it has recalled some note of your blythe rebeck; and yet, such
animals are we, that I had forgot the mien of my old friend, and
scarcely knew him at a distance. But we have had trouble lately; there
are a thousand of your countrymen that keep garrison in the Perilous
Castle of Douglas yonder, as well as in other places through the vale,
and that is but a woful sight for a true Scotchman--even my own poor
house has not escaped the dignity of a garrison of a man-at-arms,
besides two or three archer knaves, and one or two slips of mischievous
boys called pages, and so forth, who will not let a man say, 'this is
my own,' by his own fireside. Do not, therefore, think hardly of me,
old comrade, if I show you a welcome something colder than you might
expect from a friend of other days; for, by Saint Bride of Douglas, I
have scarcely anything left to which I can say welcome."
"Small welcome will serve," said Bertram. "My son, make thy reverence
to thy father's old friend. Augustine is learning my joyous trade, but
he will need some practice ere he can endure its fatigues. If you could
give him some little matter of food, and a quiet bed for the night,
there's no fear but that we shall both do well enough; for I dare say,
when you travel with my friend Charles there,--if that tall youth
chance to be my old acquaintance Charles,--you will find yourself
accommodated when his wants are once well provided for."
"Nay, the foul fiend take me if I do," answered the Scottish
husbandman. "I know not what the lads of this day are made of--not of
the same clay as their fathers, to be sure--not sprung from their
heather, which fears neither wind nor rain, but from some delicate
plant of a foreign country, which will not thrive unless it be
nourished under glass, with a murrain to it. The good Lord of
Douglas--I have been his henchman, and can vouch for it--did not in his
pagehood desire such food and lodging as, in the present day, will
hardly satisfy such a lad as your friend Charles."
"Nay," said Bertram, "it is not that my Augustine is over nice; but,
for other reasons, I must request of you a bed to himself; he hath of
late been unwell."
"Ay, I understand," said Dickson, "your son hath had a touch of that
illness which terminates so frequently in the black death you English
folk die of? We hear much of the havoc it has made to the southward.
Comes it hitherward?"
Bertram nodded.
"Well, my father's house," continued the farmer, "hath more rooms than
one, and your son shall have one well-aired and comfortable; and for
supper, ye shall have a part of what is prepared for your countrymen,
though I would rather have their room than their company. Since I am
bound to feed a score of them, they will not dispute the claim of such
a skilful minstrel as thou art to a night's hospitality. I am ashamed
to say that I must do their bidding even in my own house, Well-a-day,
if my good lord were in possession of his own, I have heart and hand
enough to turn the whole of them out of my house, like--like"----
"To speak plainly," said Bertram, "like a southern strolling gang from
Redesdale, whom I have seen you fling out of your house like a litter
of blind puppies, when not one of them looked behind to see who had
done him the courtesy until he was half-way to Cairntable."
"Ay," answered the Scotchman, drawing himself up at least six inches
taller than before; "then I had a house of my own, and a cause and an
arm to keep it. Now I am--what signifies it what I am?--the noblest
lord in Scotland is little better."
"Truly, friend," said Bertram, "now you view this matter in a rational
light. I do not say that the wisest, the richest, or the strongest man
in this world has any right to tyrannize over his neighbour, because he
is the more weak, ignorant, and the poorer; but yet if he does enter
into such a controversy, he must submit to the course of nature, and
that will always give the advantage in the tide of battle to wealth,
strength, and health."
"With permission, however," answered Dickson, "the weaker party, if he
use his facilities to the utmost, may, in the long run, obtain revenge
upon the author of his sufferings, which would be at least compensation
for his temporary submission; and he acts simply as a man, and most
foolishly as a Scotchman, whether he sustain these wrongs with the
insensibility of an idiot, or whether he endeavour to revenge them
before Heaven's appointed time has arrived.--But if I talk thus I shall
scare you, as I have scared some of your countrymen, from accepting a
meal of meat and a night's lodging, in a house where you might be
called with the morning to a bloody settlement of a national quarrel."
"Never mind," said Bertram, "we have been known to each other of old;
and I am no more afraid of meeting unkindness in your house, than you
expect me to come here for the purpose of adding to the injuries of
which you complain."
"So be it," said Dickson; "and you, my old friend, are as welcome to my
abode as when it never held any guest, save of my own inviting.--And
you, my young friend, Master Augustine, shall be looked after as well
as if you came with a gay brow and a light cheek, such as best becomes
the _gay science_."
"But wherefore, may I ask," said Bertram, "so much displeased but now
at my young friend Charles?"
The youth answered before his father had time to speak. "My father,
good sir, may put what show upon it he will, but shrewd and wise men
wax weak in the brain these troublous times. He saw two or three wolves
seize upon three of our choicest wethers; and because I shouted to give
the alarm to the English garrison, he was angry as if he could have
murdered me---just for saving the sheep from the jaws that would have
devoured them."
"This is a strange account of thee, old friend," said Bertram. "Dost
thou connive with the wolves in robbing thine own fold?"
"Why, let it pass, if thou lovest me," answered the countryman;
"Charles could tell thee something nearer the truth if he had a mind;
but for the present let it pass."
The minstrel, perceiving that the Scotchman was fretted and embarrassed
with the subject, pressed it no farther.
At this moment, in crossing the threshold of Thomas Dickson's house,
they were greeted with sounds from two English soldiers within. "Quiet,
Anthony," said one voice,--"quiet, man!--for the sake of common sense,
if not common manners;--Robin Hood himself never sat down to his board
ere the roast was ready."
"Ready!" quoth another rough voice; "It is roasting to rags, and small
had been the knave Dickson's share, even of these rags, had it not been
the express orders of the worshipful Sir John de Walton, that the
soldiers who lie at outposts should afford to the inmates such
provisions as are not necessary for their own subsistence."
"Hush, Anthony,--hush, for shame!" replied his fellow-soldier, "if ever
I heard our host's step, I heard it this instant; so give over thy
grumbling, since our captain, as we all know, hath prohibited, under
strict penalties, all quarrels between his followers and the people of
the country."
"I am sure," replied Anthony, "that I have ministered occasion to none;
but I would I were equally certain of the good meaning of this
sullen-browed Thomas Dickson towards the English soldiers, for I seldom
go to bed in this dungeon of a house, but I expect my throat will gape
as wide as a thirsty oyster before I awaken. Here he comes, however,"
added Anthony, sinking his sharp tones as he spoke; "and I hope to be
excommunicated if he has not brought with him that mad animal, his son
Charles, and two other strangers, hungry enough, I'll be sworn, to eat
up the whole supper, if they do us no other injury."
"Shame of thyself, Anthony," repeated his comrade; "a good archer thou
as ever wore Kendal green, and yet affect to be frightened for two
tired travellers, and alarmed for the inroad their hunger may make on
the night's meal. There are four or five of us here--we have our bows
and our bills within reach, and scorn to be chased from our supper, or
cheated out of our share of it by a dozen Scotchmen, whether stationary
or strollers. How say'st thou?" he added, turning to Dickson--"How say
ye, quartermaster? it is no secret, that by the directions given to our
post, we must enquire into the occupations of such guests as you may
receive besides ourselves, your unwilling inmates; you are as ready for
supper, I warrant, as supper is for you, and I will only delay you and
my friend Anthony,--who becomes dreadfully impatient, until you answer
two or three questions which you wot of."
"Bend-the-Bow," answered Dickson, "thou art a civil fellow; and
although it is something hard to be constrained to give an account of
one's friends, because they chance to quarter in one's own house for a
night or two, yet I must submit to the times, and make no vain
opposition. You may mark down in your breviary there, that upon the
fourteenth day before Palm Sunday, Thomas Dickson brought to his house
of Hazelside, in which you hold garrison, by orders from the English
governor, Sir John de Walton, two strangers, to whom the said Thomas
Dickson had promised refreshment, and a bed for the evening, if it be
lawful at this time and place."
"But what are they, these strangers?" said Anthony, somewhat sharply.
"A fine world the while," murmured Thomas Dickson, "that an honest man
should be forced to answer the questions of every paltry
companion!"--But he mitigated his voice and proceeded. "The eldest of
my guests is Bertram, an ancient English minstrel, who is bound on his
own errand to the Castle of Douglas, and will communicate what he has
to say of news to Sir John de Walton himself. I have known him for
twenty years, and never heard any thing of him save that he was good
man and true. The younger stranger is his son, a lad recovering from
the English disorder, which has been raging far and wide in
Westmoreland and Cumberland."
"Tell me," said Bend-the-Bow, "this same Bertram,--was he not about a
year since in the service of some noble lady in our own country?"
"I have heard so," answered Dickson.
"We shall, in that case, I think, incur little danger," replied
Bend-the-Bow, "by allowing this old man and his son to proceed on their
journey to the castle."
"You are my elder and my better," answered Anthony; "but I may remind
you that it is not so clearly our duty to give free passage, into a
garrison of a thousand men of all ranks, to a youth who has been so
lately attacked by a contagious disorder; and I question if our
commander would not rather hear that the Black Douglas, with a hundred
devils as black as himself, since such is his colour, had taken
possession of the outposts of Hazelside with sword and battle-axe, than
that one person suffering under this fell sickness had entered
peaceably, and by the open wicket of the castle."
"There is something in what thou sayest, Anthony," replied his comrade;
"and considering that our governor, since he has undertaken the
troublesome job of keeping a castle which is esteemed so much more
dangerous than any other within Scotland, has become one of the most
cautious and jealous men in the world, we had better, I think, inform
him of the circumstance, and take his commands how the stripling is to
be dealt with."
"Content am I," said the archer; "and first, methinks, I would just, in
order to show that we know what belongs to such a case, ask the
stripling a few questions, as how long he has been ill, by what
physicians he has been attended, when he was cured, and how his cure is
certified, &e."
"True, brother," said Bend-the-Bow. "Thou hearest, minstrel, we would
ask thy son some questions--What has become of him?--he was in this
apartment but now."
"So please you," answered Bertram, "he did but pass through the
apartment. Mr. Thomas Dickson, at my entreaty, as well as in respectful
reverence to your honour's health, carried him through the room without
tarriance, judging his own bed-chamber the fittest place for a young
man recovering from a severe illness, and after a day of no small
fatigue."
"Well," answered the elder archer, "though it is uncommon for men who,
like us, live by bow-string and quiver, to meddle with interrogations
and examinations; yet, as the case stands, we must make some enquiries
of your son, ere we permit him to set forth to the Castle of Douglas,
where you say his errand leads him."
"Rather my errand, noble sir," said the minstrel, "than that of the
young man himself."
"If such be the case," answered Bend-the-Bow, "we may sufficiently do
our duty by sending yourself, with the first grey light of dawn, to the
castle, and letting your son remain in bed, which I warrant is the
fittest place for him, until we shall receive Sir John de Walton's
commands whether he is to be brought onward or not."
"And we may as well," said Anthony, "since we are to have this man's
company at supper, make him acquainted with the rules of the
out-garrison stationed here for the time." So saying, he pulled a
scroll from his leathern pouch, and said, "Minstrel, canst thou read?"
"It becomes my calling," said the minstrel.
"It has nothing to do with mine, though," answered the archer, "and
therefore do thou read these regulations aloud; for since I do not
comprehend these characters by sight, I lose no chance of having them
read over to me as often as I can, that I may fix their sense in my
memory. So beware that thou readest the words letter for letter as they
are set down; for thou dost so at thy peril, Sir Minstrel, if thou
readest not like a true man."
"On my minstrel word," said Bertram, and began to read excessively
slow; for he wished to gain a little time for consideration, which he
foresaw would be necessary to prevent his being separated from his
mistress, which was likely to occasion her much anxiety and distress.
He therefore began thus:--"'Outpost at Hazelside, the steading of
Goodman Thomas Dickson'--Ay, Thomas, and is thy house so called?"
"It is the ancient name of the steading," said the Scot, "being
surrounded by a hazel-shaw, or thicket."
"Hold your chattering tongue, minstrel," said Anthony, "and proceed, as
you value your ears, which you seem disposed to make less use of."
"'His garrison'" proceeded the minstrel, reading, "'consists of a lance
with its furniture.' What, then, a lance, in other words, a belted
knight, commands this party?"
"'Tis no concern of thine," said the archer.
"But it is," answered the minstrel; "we have a right to be examined by
the highest person in presence."
"I will show thee, thou rascal," said the archer, starting up, "that I
am lance enough for thee to reply to, and I will break thy head if thou
say'st a word more."
"Take care, brother Anthony," said his comrade, "we are to use
travellers courteously--and, with your leave, those travellers best who
come from our native land."
"It is even so stated here," said the minstrel, and he proceeded to
read:--"'The watch at this outpost of Hazelside [Footnote: Hazelside
Place, the fief granted to Thomas Dickson by William the Hardy, seventh
Lord Douglas, is still pointed out about two miles to the southwest of
the Castle Dangerous. Dickson was sixty years of age at the time when
Lord James first appeared in Douglasdale. His heirs kept possession of
the fief for centuries; and some respectable gentlemen's families in
Lanarkshire still trace themselves to this ancestor.--_From Notes by
Mr. Haddow_.] shall stop and examine all travellers passing by the said
station, suffering such to pass onward to the town of Douglas or to
Douglas Castle, always interrogating them with civility, and detaining
and turning them back if there arise matter of suspicion; but
conducting themselves in all matters civilly and courteously to the
people of the country, and to those who travel in it.' You see, most
excellent and valiant archer," added the commentator Bertram, "that
courtesy and civility are, above all, recommended to your worship in
your conduct towards the inhabitants, and those passengers who, like
us, may chance to fall under your rules in such matters."
"I am not to be told at this time of day," said the archer, "how to
conduct myself in the discharge of my duties. Let me advise you, Sir
Minstrel, to be frank and open in your answers to our enquiries, and
you shall have no reason to complain."
"I hope at all events," said the minstrel, "to have your favour for my
son, who is a delicate stripling, and not accustomed to play his part
among the crew which inhabit this wild world."
"Well," continued the elder and more civil of the two archers, "if thy
son be a novice in this terrestrial navigation, I warrant that thou, my
friend, from thy look and manner of speech, hast enough of skill to use
thy compass. To comfort thee, although thou must thyself answer the
questions of our governor or deputy-governor, in order that he may see
there is no offence in thee, I think there may be permission granted
for thy son's residing here in the convent hard by, (where the nuns, by
the way, are as old as the monks, and have nearly as long beards, so
thou mayst be easy about thy son's morals,) until thou hast done thy
business at Douglas Castle, and art ready to resume thy journey."
"If such permission," said the minstrel, "can be obtained, I should be
better pleased to leave him at the abbey, and go myself, in the first
place, to take the directions of your commanding officer."
"Certainly," answered the archer, "that will be the safest and best
way; and with a piece or two of money, thou mayst secure the protection
of the abbot."
"Thou say'st well," answered the minstrel; "I have known life, I have
known every stile, gap, pathway, and pass of this wilderness of ours
for some thirty years; and he that cannot steer his course fairly
through it like an able seaman, after having served such an
apprenticeship, can hardly ever be taught, were a century to be given
him to learn it in."
"Since thou art so expert a mariner," answered the archer Anthony,
"thou hast, I warrant me, met in thy wanderings a potation called a
morning's draught, which they who are conducted by others, where they
themselves lack experience, are used to bestow upon those who undertake
the task of guide upon such an occasion?"
"I understand you, sir," quoth the minstrel; "and although money, or
_drink-geld_, as the Fleming calls it, is rather a scarce commodity in
the purse of one of my calling, yet according to my feeble ability,
thou shalt have no cause to complain that thine eyes or those of thy
comrades have been damaged by a Scottish mist, while we can find an
English coin to pay for the good liquor which would wash them clear."
"Content," said the archer; "we now understand each other; and if
difficulties arise on the road, thou shalt not want the countenance of
Anthony to sail triumphantly through them. But thou hadst better let
thy son know soon of the early visit to the abbot to-morrow, for thou
mayst guess that we cannot and dare not delay our departure for the
convent a minute after the eastern sky is ruddy; and, with other
infirmities, young men often are prone to laziness and a love of ease."
"Thou shalt have no reason to think so," answered the minstrel; "not
the lark himself, when waked by the first ray peeping over the black
cloud, springs more lightly to the sky, than will my Augustine answer
the same brilliant summons. And now we understand each other, I would
only further pray you to forbear light talk while my son is in your
company,--a boy of innocent life, and timid in conversation."
"Nay, jolly minstrel," said the elder archer, "thou givest us here too
gross an example of Satan reproving sin. If thou hast followed thy
craft for twenty years, as thou pretendest, thy son, having kept thee
company since childhood, must by this time be fit to open a school to
teach even devils the practice of the seven deadly sins, of which none
know the theory if those of the _gay science_ are lacking."
"Truly, comrade, thou speakest well," answered Bertram, "and I
acknowledge that we minstrels are too much to blame in this matter.
Nevertheless, in good sooth, the fault is not one of which I myself am
particularly guilty; on the contrary, I think that he who would wish to
have his own hair honoured when time has strewed it with silver, should
so rein his mirth when in the presence of the young, as may show in
what respect he holds innocence. I will, therefore, with your
permission, speak a word to Augustine, that to-morrow we must be on
foot early."
"Do so, my friend," said the English soldier; "and do the same the more
speedily that our poor supper is still awaiting until thou art ready to
partake of it."
"To which, I promise thee," said Bertram, "I am disposed to entertain,
no delay."
"Follow me, then," said Dickson, "and I will show thee where this young
bird of thine has his nest."
Their host accordingly tripped up the wooden stair, and tapped at a
door, which he thus indicated was that of his younger guest.
"Your father," continued he, as the door opened, "would speak with you,
Master Augustine."
"Excuse me, my host," answered Augustine, "the truth is, that this room
being directly above your eating-chamber, and the flooring not in the
best possible repair, I have been compelled to the unhandsome practice
of eavesdropping, and not a word has escaped me that passed concerning
my proposed residence at the abbey, our journey to-morrow, and the
somewhat early hour at which I must shake off sloth, and, according to
thy expression, fly down from the roost."
"And how dost thou relish," said Dickson, "being left with the Abbot of
Saint Bride's little flock here."
"Why, well," said the youth, "if the abbot is a man of respectability
becoming his vocation, and not one of those swaggering churchmen, who
stretch out the sword, and bear themselves like rank soldiers in these
troublous times."
"For that, young master," said Dickson, "if you let him put his hand
deep enough into your purse, he will hardly quarrel with any thing."
"Then I will leave him to my father," replied Augustine, "who will not
grudge him any thing he asks in reason."
"In that case," replied the Scotchman, "you may trust to our abbot for
good accommodation--and so both sides are pleased."
"It is well, my son," said Bertram, who now joined in the conversation;
"and that thou mayst be ready for early travelling, I shall presently
get our host to send thee some food, after partaking of which thou
shouldst go to bed and sleep off the fatigue of to-day, since to-morrow
will bring work for itself."
"And as for thy engagement to these honest archers," answered
Augustine, "I hope you will be able to do what will give pleasure to
our guides, if they are disposed to be civil and true men."
"God bless thee, my child!" answered Bertram; "thou knowest already
what would drag after thy beck all the English archers that were ever
on this side of the Solway. There is no fear of a grey goose shaft, if
you sing a _reveillez_ like to that which chimed even now from that
silken nest of dainty young goldfinches."
"Hold me as in readiness, then," said the seeming youth, "when you
depart to-morrow morning. I am within hearing, I suppose, of the bells
of Saint Bride's chapel, and have no fear, through my sloth, of keeping
you or your company waiting."
"Good night, and God bless thee, my child!" again said the minstrel;
"remember that your father sleeps not far distant, and on the slightest
alarm will not fail to be with you. I need scarce bid thee recommend
thyself, meantime, to the great Being, who is the friend and father of
us all."
The pilgrim thanked his supposed father for his evening blessing, and
the visitors withdrew without farther speech at the time, leaving the
young lady to those engrossing fears, which, the novelty of her
situation, and the native delicacy of her sex being considered,
naturally thronged upon her.
The tramp of a horse's foot was not long after heard at the house of
Hazelside, and the rider was welcomed by its garrison with marks of
respect. Bertram understood so much as to discover from the
conversation of the warders that this late arrival was Aymer de
Valence, the knight who commanded the little party, and to the
furniture of whose lance, as it was technically called, belonged the
archers with whom we have already been acquainted, a man-at-arms or
two, a certain proportion of pages or grooms, and, in short, the
command and guidance of the garrison at Thomas Dickson's, while in rank
he was Deputy-governor of Douglas Castle.
To prevent all suspicion respecting himself and his companion, as well
as the risk of the latter being disturbed, the minstrel thought it
proper to present himself to the inspection of this knight, the great
authority of the little place. He found him with as little scruple as
the archers heretofore, making a supper of the relics of the roast beef.
Before this young knight Bertram underwent an examination, while an old
soldier took down in writing such items of information as the examinate
thought proper to express in his replies, both with regard to the
minutiae of his present journey, his business at Castle Douglas, and
his route when that business should be accomplished; a much more minute
examination, in a word, than he had hitherto undergone by the archers,
or perhaps than was quite agreeable to him, being encumbered with at
least the knowledge of one secret, whatever more. Not that this new
examinator had any thing stern or severe in his looks or his questions.
As to the first, he was mild, gentle, and "meek as a maid," and
possessed exactly of the courteous manners ascribed by our father
Chaucer to the pattern of chivalry whom he describes upon his
pilgrimage to Canterbury. But with all his gentleness, De Valence
showed a great degree of acuteness and accuracy in his queries; and
well pleased was Bertram that the young knight did not insist upon
seeing his supposed son, although even in that case his ready wit had
resolved, like a seaman in a tempest, to sacrifice one part to preserve
the rest. He was not, however, driven to this extremity, being treated
by Sir Aymer with that degree of courtesy which in that age men of song
were in general thought entitled to. The knight kindly and liberally
consented to the lad's remaining in the convent, as a fit and quiet
residence for a stripling and an invalid, until Sir John de Walton
should express his pleasure on the subject; and Sir Aymer consented to
this arrangement the more willingly, as it averted all possible danger
of bringing disease into the English garrison.
By the young knight's order, all in Dickson's house were despatched
earlier to rest than usual; the matin bell of the neighbouring chapel
being the signal for their assembly by daybreak. They rendezvoused
accordingly, and proceeded to Saint Bride's, where they heard mass,
after which an interview took place between the abbot Jerome and the
minstrel, in which the former undertook, with the permission of De
Valence, to receive Augustine into his abbey as a guest for a few days,
less or more, and for which Bertram promised an acknowledgment in name
of alms, which was amply satisfactory.
"So be it," said Bertram, taking leave of his supposed son; "rely on it
I will not tarry a day longer at Douglas Castle than shall suffice for
transacting my business there, which is to look after the old books you
wot of, and I will speedily return for thee to the Abbey of Saint
Bride, to resume in company our journey homeward."
"O father," replied the youth, with a smile, "I fear if you get among
romances and chronicles, you will be so earnest in your researches,
that you will forget poor Augustine and his concerns."
"Never fear me, Augustine," said the old man, making the motion of
throwing a kiss towards the boy; "thou art good and virtuous, and
Heaven will not neglect thee, were thy father unnatural enough to do
so. Believe me, all the old songs since Merlin's day shall not make me
forget thee."
Thus they separated, the minstrel, with the English knight and his
retinue, to move towards the castle, and the youth in dutiful
attendance on the venerable abbot, who was delighted to find that his
guest's thoughts turned rather upon spiritual things than on the
morning repast, of the approach of which he could not help being
himself sensible.