"Hail to you, my gallant friends!" said the Knight of the Tomb to his
companions, who seemed to welcome him with the eagerness of men engaged
in the same perilous undertaking. "The winter has passed over, the
festival of Palm Sunday is come, and as surely as the ice and snow of
this season shall not remain to chill the earth through the ensuing
summer, so surely we, in a few hours, keep our word to those southern
braggarts, who think their language of boasting and malice has as much
force over our Scottish bosoms, as the blast possesses over the autumn
fruits; but it is not so. While we choose to remain concealed, they may
as vainly seek to descry us, as a housewife would search for the needle
she has dropped among the withered foliage of yon gigantic oak. Yet a
few hours, and the lost needle shall become the exterminating sword of
the Genius of Scotland, avenging ten thousand injuries, and especially
the life of the gallant Lord Douglas, cruelly done to death as an exile
from his native country."
An exclamation between a yell and a groan burst from the assembled
retainers of Douglas, upon being reminded of the recent death of their
chieftain; while they seemed at the same time sensible of the necessity
of making little noise, lest they should give the alarm to some of the
numerous English parties which were then traversing different parts of
the forest. The acclamation, so cautiously uttered, had scarce died
away in silence, when the Knight of the Tomb, or, to call him by his
proper name, Sir James Douglas, again addressed his handful of faithful
followers.
"One effort, my friends, may yet be made to end our strife with the
Southron without bloodshed. Fate has within a few hours thrown into my
power the young heiress of Berkely, for whose sake it is said Sir John
de Walton keeps with such obstinacy the castle which is mine by
inheritance. Is there one among you who dare go, as the honourable
escort of Augusta de Berkely, bearing a letter, explaining the terms on
which I am willing to restore her to her lover, to freedom, and to her
English lordships?"
"If there is none other," said a tall man, dressed in the tattered
attire of a woodsman, and being, in fact, no other than the very
Michael Turnbull, who had already given so extraordinary a proof of his
undaunted manhood, "I will gladly be the person who will be the lady's
henchman on this expedition."
"Thou art never wanting," said the Douglas, "where a manly deed is to
be done; but remember, this lady must pledge to us her word and oath
that she will hold herself our faithful prisoner, rescue or no rescue;
that she will consider herself as pledged for the life, freedom, and
fair usage of Michael Turnbull; and that if Sir John de Walton refuse
my terms, she must hold herself obliged to return with Turnbull to our
presence, in order to be disposed of at our pleasure."
There was much in these conditions, which struck the Lady Augusta with
natural doubt and horror; nevertheless, strange as it may seem, the
declaration of the Douglas gave a species of decision to her situation,
which might have otherwise been unattainable; and from the high opinion
which she entertained of the Douglas's chivalry, she could not bring
herself to think, that any part which he might play in the approaching
drama would be other than that which a perfect good knight would, under
all circumstances, maintain towards his enemy. Even with respect to De
Walton, she felt herself relieved of a painful difficulty. The idea of
her being discovered by the knight himself, in a male disguise, had
preyed upon her spirits; and she felt as if guilty of a departure from
the laws of womanhood, in having extended her favour towards him beyond
maidenly limits; a step, too, which might tend to lessen her in the
eyes of the lover for whom she had hazarded so much.
"The heart, she said, is lightly prized,
That is but lightly won;
And Long shall mourn the heartless man,
That leaves his love too soon."
On the other hand, to be brought before him as a prisoner, was indeed a
circumstance equally perplexing as unpleasing, but it was one which was
beyond her control, and the Douglas, into whose hands she had fallen,
appeared to her to represent the deity in the play, whose entrance was
almost sufficient to bring its perplexities to a conclusion; she
therefore not unwillingly submitted to take what oaths and promises
were required by the party in whose hands she found herself, and
accordingly engaged to be a true prisoner, whatever might occur.
Meantime she strictly obeyed the directions of those who had her
motions at command, devoutly praying that circumstances, in themselves
so adverse, might nevertheless work together for the safety of her
lover and her own freedom.
A pause ensued, during which a slight repast was placed before the Lady
Augusta, who was well-nigh exhausted with the fatigues of her journey.
Douglas and his partisans, meanwhile, whispered together, as if
unwilling she should hear their conference; while, to purchase their
good-will, if possible, she studiously avoided every appearance of
listening.
After some conversation, Turnbull, who appeared to consider the lady as
peculiarly his charge, said to her in a harsh voice, "Do not fear,
lady; no wrong shall be done you; nevertheless, you must be content for
a space to be blindfolded."
She submitted to this in silent terror; and the trooper, wrapping part
of a mantle round her head, did not assist her to remount her palfrey,
but lent her his arm to support her in this blinded state.