Great was the astonishment of the young Knight of Valence and the
reverend Father Jerome, when, upon breaking into the cell, they
discovered the youthful pilgrim's absence; and, from the garments which
were left, saw every reason to think that the one-eyed novice, sister
Ursula, had accompanied him in his escape from custody. A thousand
thoughts thronged upon Sir Aymer, how shamefully he had suffered
himself to be outwitted by the artifices of a boy and of a novice. His
reverend companion in error felt no less contrition for having
recommended to the knight a mild exercise of his authority. Father
Jerome had obtained his preferment as abbot upon the faith of his zeal
for the cause of the English monarch, with the affected interest in
which he was at a loss to reconcile his proceedings of the last night.
A hurried enquiry took place, from which little could be learned, save
that the young pilgrim had most certainly gone off with the Lady
Margaret de Hautlieu, an incident at which the females of the convent
expressed surprise, mingled with a great deal of horror; while that of
the males, whom the news soon reached, was qualified with a degree of
wonder, which seemed to be founded upon the very different personal
appearance of the two fugitives.
"Sacred Virgin," said a nun, "who could have conceived the hopeful
votaress, sister Ursula, so lately drowned in tears for her father's
untimely fate, capable of eloping with a boy scarce fourteen years old!"
"And, holy Saint Bride!" said the Abbot Jerome, "what could have made
so handsome a young man lend his arm to assist such a nightmare as
sister Ursula, in the commission of so great an enormity? Certainly he
can neither plead temptation nor seduction, but must have gone, as the
worldly phrase is,--to the devil with a dish-clout."
"I must disperse the soldiers to pursue the fugitives," said De
Valence, "unless this letter, which the pilgrim must have left behind
him, shall contain some explanations respecting our mysterious
prisoner."
After viewing the contents with some surprise, he read aloud,--"The
undersigned, late residing in the house of Saint Bride, do you, father
Jerome, the abbot of said house, to know, that finding you were
disposed to treat me as a prisoner and a spy, in the sanctuary to which
you had received me as a distressed person, I have resolved to use my
natural liberty, with which you have no right to interfere, and
therefore have withdrawn myself from your abbacy. Moreover, finding
that the novice called in your convent sister Ursula (who hath, by
monastic rule and discipline, a fair title to return to the world
unless she is pleased, after a year's novitiate, to profess herself
sister of your order) is determined to use such privilege, I joyfully
take the opportunity of her company in this her lawful resolution, as
being what is in conformity to the law of God, and the precepts of
Saint Bride, which gave you no authority to detain any person in your
convent by force, who hath not taken upon her irrevocably the vows of
the order.
"To you, Sir John de Walton, and Sir Aymer de Valence, knights of
England, commanding the garrison of Douglas Dale, I have only to say,
that you have acted and are acting against me under a mystery, the
solution of which is comprehended in a secret known only to my faithful
minstrel, Bertram of the many Lays, as whose son I have found it
convenient to pass myself. But as I cannot at this time prevail upon
myself personally to discover a secret which cannot well be unfolded
without feelings of shame, I not only give permission to the said
Bertram the minstrel, but I charge and command him that he tell to you
the purpose with which I came originally to the Castle of Douglas. When
this is discovered, it will only remain to express my feelings towards
the two knights, in return for the pain and agony of mind which their
violence and threats of further severities have occasioned me.
"And first respecting Sir Aymer de Valence, I freely and willingly
forgive him for having been involved in a mistake to which I myself led
the way, and I shall at all times be happy to meet with him as an
acquaintance, and never to think farther of his part in these few days'
history, saving as matter of mirth and ridicule.
"But respecting Sir John de Walton, I must request of him to consider
whether his conduct towards me, standing as we at present do towards
each, other, is such as he himself ought to forget or I ought to
forgive; and I trust he will understand me when I tell him, that all
former connexions must henceforth be at an end between him and the
supposed "AUGUSTINE."
"This is madness," said the abbot, when he had read the letter,--"very
midsummer madness; not unfrequently an accompaniment of this
pestilential disease, and I should do well in requiring of those
soldiers who shall first apprehend this youth Augustine, that they
reduce his victuals immediately to water and bread, taking care that
the diet do not exceed in measure what is necessary to sustain nature;
nay, I should be warranted by the learned, did I recommend a sufficient
intermixture of flagellation with belts, stirrup-leathers, or
surcingles, and failing those, with riding-whips, switches, and the
like."
"Hush! my reverend father," said De Valence, "a light begins to break
in upon me. John de Walton, if my suspicions be true, would sooner
expose his own flesh to be hewn from his bones, than have this
Augustine's finger stung by a gnat. Instead of treating this youth as a
madman, I for my own part, will be contented to avow that I myself have
been bewitched and fascinated; and by my honour, if I send out my
attendants in quest of the fugitives, it shall be with the strict
charge, that, when apprehended, they treat them with all respect, and
protect them, if they object to return to this house, to any honourable
place of refuge which they may desire."
"I hope," said the abbot, looking strangely confused, "I shall be first
heard in behalf of the Church concerning this affair of an abducted
nun? You see yourself, Sir Knight, that this scapegrace of a minstrel
avouches neither repentance nor contrition at his share in a matter so
flagitious."
"You shall be secured an opportunity of being fully heard," replied the
knight, "if you shall find at last that you really desire one.
Meantime, I must back, without a moment's delay, to inform Sir John de
Walton of the turn which affairs have taken. Farewell, reverend father.
By my honour we may wish each other joy that we have escaped from a
troublesome charge, which brought as much terror with it as the
phantoms of a fearful dream, and is yet found capable of being
dispelled by a cure as simple as that of awakening the sleeper. But, by
Saint Bride! both churchmen and laymen are bound to sympathise with the
unfortunate Sir John de Walton. I tell thee, father, that if this
letter"--touching the missive with his finger--"is to be construed
literally, as far as respects him, he is the man most to be pitied
betwixt the brink of Solway and the place where we now stand. Suspend
thy curiosity, most worthy churchman, lest there should be more in this
matter than I myself see; so that, while thinking that I have lighted
on the true explanation, I may not have to acknowledge that I have been
again leading you into error. Sound to horse there! Ho?" he called out
from the window of the apartment; "and let the party I brought hither
prepare to scour the woods on their return."
"By my faith!" said Father Jerome, "I am right glad that this young
nut-cracker is going to leave me to my own meditation. I hate when a
young person pretends to understand whatever passes, while his betters
are obliged to confess that it is all a mystery to them. Such an
assumption is like that of the conceited fool, sister Ursula, who
pretended to read with a single eye a manuscript which I myself could
not find intelligible with the assistance of my spectacles."
This might not have quite pleased the young knight, nor was it one of
those truths which the abbot would have chosen to deliver in his
hearing. But the knight had shaken him by the hand, said adieu, and was
already at Hazelside, issuing particular orders to little troops of the
archers and others, and occasionally chiding Thomas Dickson, who, with
a degree of curiosity which the English knight was not very willing to
excuse, had been endeavouring to get some account of the occurrences of
the night.
"Peace, fellow!" he said, "and mind thine own business, being well
assured that the hour will come in which it will require all the
attention thou canst give, leaving others to take care of their own
affairs."
"If I am suspected of any thing," answered Dickson, in a tone rather
dogged and surly than otherwise, "methinks it were but fair to let me
know what accusation is brought against me. I need not tell you that
chivalry prescribes that a knight should not attack an enemy undefied."
"When you are a knight," answered Sir Aymer de Valence, "it will be
time enough for me to reckon with you upon the points of form due to
you by the laws of chivalry. Meanwhile, you had best let me know what
share you have had in playing off the martial phantom which sounded the
rebellious slogan of Douglas in the town of that name?"
"I know nothing of what you speak," answered the goodman of Hazelside.
"See then," said the knight, "that you do not engage yourself in the
affairs of other people, even if your conscience warrants that you are
in no danger from your own."
So saying, he rode off, not waiting any answer. The ideas which filled
his head were to the following purpose.
"I know not how it is, but one mist seems no sooner to clear away than.
we find ourselves engaged in another. I take it for granted that the
disguised damsel is no other than the goddess of Walton's private
idolatry, who has cost him and me so much trouble, and some certain,
degree of misunderstanding during these last weeks. By my honour! this
fair lady is right lavish in the pardon which she has so frankly
bestowed upon me, and if she is willing to be less complaisant to Sir
John de Walton, why then--And what then?--It surely does not infer that
she would receive me into that place in her affections, from which she
has just expelled De Walton? Nor, if she did, could I avail myself of a
change in favour of myself, at the expense of my friend and companion
in arms. It were a folly even to dream of a thing so improbable. But
with respect to the other business, it is worth serious consideration.
Yon sexton seems to have kept company with dead bodies, until he is
unfit for the society of the living; and as to that Dickson of
Hazelside, as they call him, there is no attempt against the English
during these endless wars, in which that man has not been concerned;
had my life depended upon it, I could not have prevented myself from
intimating my suspicions of him, let him take it as he lists." So
saying, the knight spurred his horse, and arriving at Douglas Castle
without farther adventure, demanded in a tone of greater cordiality
than he had of late used, whether he could be admitted to Sir John de
Walton, having something of consequence to report to him. He was
immediately ushered into an apartment, in which the governor was seated
at his solitary breakfast. Considering the terms upon which they had
lately stood, the governor of Douglas Dale was somewhat surprised at
the easy familiarity with which De Valence now approached him.
"Some uncommon news," said Sir John, rather gravely, "have brought me
the honour of Sir Aymer de Valence's company."
"It is," answered Sir Aymer, "what seems of high importance to your
interest, Sir John de Walton, and therefore I were to blame if I lost a
moment in communicating it."
"I shall be proud to profit by your intelligence," said Sir John de
Walton.
"And I too," said the young knight, "am both to lose the credit of
having penetrated a mystery which blinded Sir John de Walton. At the
same time, I do not wish to be thought capable of jesting with you,
which might be the case were I, from misapprehension, to give a false
key to this matter. With your permission, then, we will proceed thus:
We go together to the place of Bertram the minstrel's confinement. I
have in my possession a scroll from the young person who was intrusted
to the care of the Abbot Jerome; it is written in a delicate female
hand, and gives authority to the minstrel to declare the purpose which
brought them to this vale of Douglas."
"It must be as you say," said Sir John de Walton, "although can scarce
see occasion for adding so much form to a mystery which can be
expressed in such small compass."
Accordingly the two knights, the warder leading the way, proceeded to
the dungeon to which the minstrel had been removed.