The landlord of the inn at Barraux had been up before any of his
guests; and anxious to show that his larder was not always so ill
provided as it had been the night before, he had contrived to procure
materials for a very substantial breakfast, to strengthen the
travellers for their day's journey. It was well dressed, too, after
the fashions of that day, and good Mr. Rhind did ample justice to its
merits both by eating and lauding it, gaily declaring that the morning
made up for the evening, and that, according to the popish
superstition, the landlord might claim the merit of some works of
supererogation over and above those necessary to atone for the sins of
the night before.
Gowrie himself was in no very jesting mood. He made, it is true, every
effort to shake off the impression produced upon his mind by the
strange events lately passed. It was a dream, he thought--an idle
dream, or else a hallucination. He had been very much fatigued, had
obtained but small refreshment, and yet he had sat up thinking,
wasting time which would have been better employed in repose. Over
fatigued, he had dropped asleep without knowing it, had fallen upon
the bed, and imagination, set free from all restraint, had conjured up
appearances strangely connected with the previous subject of his
thoughts. He strove to eat, to talk, to jest playfully as usual, but
he was not very successful in the attempt, and the demeanour of his
fair Julia soon put a stop to the effort. She was exceedingly
thoughtful, grave, almost sad. She eat little, spoke less, and when
the horses were brought round to the door, mounted with a deep sigh.
After they had ridden some little way, the earl asked, in a low tone,
if anything had disturbed her.
"Nothing of importance," she answered, glancing her eye towards Mr.
Rhind, who was riding near; "but I will tell you more very soon."
She spoke so low that their worthy companion did not hear what she
said; but even if he had heard, it is probable that he would not have
altered his position in the cavalcade, for Mr. Rhind was a very slow
man at taking a hint, and seemed to have no conception that his former
pupil might sometimes find the society of her he loved pleasanter
without ear-witnesses. A favourable hill, however, afforded, about
half an hour afterwards, as they rode on towards Chamberry, the
opportunity that the lovers desired. Mr. Rhind was not fond of riding
fast, either up hill or down. He had conscientious scruples as to
spurring his horse, and never used a whip when he could help it. Thus,
when the cavalcade began the ascent, he suffered his beast to drop
slowly behind, and in the end took out a little vellum-covered volume
from his pocket, and began to read.
"Now, dearest Julia, let us quicken our pace," whispered Gowrie. "We
shall be at the top of the hill very soon, and Rhind will rejoin us
some half league after we have reached the bottom of the descent." The
lady shook her rein. The horses sprang on. The servants, more discreet
than Mr. Rhind, followed at an easy trot, and by the time that Gowrie
and Julia had reached a spot about one third of the whole distance
from the top of the hill, they found themselves some two or three
hundred yards before any of their attendants.
"Now tell me, dearest," said the young earl, "what is it has made you
so grave and sad this morning? There is no one within ear-shot."
"It is nothing, really nothing," replied Julia. "You will think it
very ridiculous, I fear, when I say that the only cause of my being
grave, if I have been so, was an idle dream; but I love to tell you
all, Gowrie, to have no thought hidden from you."
"Ever, ever do so," replied the earl, warmly; "but what was this
dream, love? I fear it must have disturbed your rest, and you much
needed repose."
"I must have been asleep some time," she answered; "but indeed,
Gowrie, it was a thing of no moment--merely a dream--and yet if I tell
you, it may make you grave and sad too."
"Nay, now you excite my curiosity the more," replied her lover. "Pray
tell me all, dear girl."
"Well," she answered, with a faint smile, "I was very tired, and glad
to lie down to rest. The little maid we hired at Borgonovo, who slept
in the same room, was very weary too, so that her fingers would hardly
do their office in unlacing my bodice. How soon she was asleep I do
not know, for the moment my head rested on the pillow my eyes were
closed in slumber. I cannot tell how long I slept quietly and
undisturbed; but then I seemed to wake. The room was the same. The
aspect of all things round me was unchanged; but there was a light in
the chamber, and at the distance of about a pace from my bedside I saw
a standing figure of a man, distinct and clear, but yet so thin and
shadowy, that it seemed as if every part were penetrated with the
light in the midst of which he stood--a coloured shadow resting on the
pale blue glare."
"What was he like? Who was he?" demanded Lord Gowrie, eagerly.
"He was very pale," answered Julia, "with a face that seemed to
express suffering and sorrow more than strong passions. His hair, cut
short in the front, was jetty black, mingled here and there with gray,
and falling in dark masses of large curls behind. He was tall, about
your own height, Gowrie, and seemingly powerful in form, but with the
shoulders a little bowed, as if worn by sickness. He was dressed in
armour, but the head was bare; and a cloak was cast over his arm,
concealing his right hand. His eyes were bright and flashing; and the
face and upper part of the body seemed more real and corporeal than
the lower limbs, which I could hardly see. There was a small scar upon
his face, between the mouth and the cheek, as if----"
"The same," murmured Lord Gowrie, "the same! Did he not speak?"
"Oh, yes," answered Julia, "he seemed to speak, or I dreamed it. He
stood gazing at me long indeed in silence, while I lay trembling with
fear. I tried to ask him what he did there--what he wanted. I tried to
rouse the house--to wake the maid who was sleeping near me; but my
tongue seemed tied, no sounds proceeded from my lips, and I strove in
vain to rise in bed. In the meantime he stood silent, gazing at me;
and at last he said twice, 'Poor thing! poor thing! Do you not know,'
he asked, 'that the blood of Morton and the blood of Ruthven can never
be mingled together till the gore that the one shed and the other
falsely denied is fully avenged?--Beware! beware! Hurry not on your
own fate. Pause! Refrain till the blow has fallen, let it fall where
it will----.' Do not look so gloomy, Gowrie--it was but a dream, for
the agony of mind I suffered broke the spell, and with a low scream I
started up. The maid woke instantly, and as I looked round I found
that all was darkness. The poor girl asked what was the matter, and I
told her then, as I have just said to you, that it was only a dream. I
asked her, however, if she had seen the doors closely locked. She
assured me that she had, and got out of bed to see, when she found
that it was so, and all was fast and safe. My rest had been disturbed,
however, and I did not sleep again for some time, which is perhaps
what made me somewhat dull and heavy; but still it was but a dream."
"A very strange one," answered Lord Gowrie, and fell into a fit of
thought. His meditations, however, were less of Julia's dream than of
what his own conduct ought to be. He felt unwilling to alarm her, or
to create any doubts or suspicions in her bosom as to the course
before them; but yet her frank confidence required return; and he felt
that after she had told him all, he ought to withhold from her
nothing.
In the meantime she rode on by his side, with the tresses of her
glossy hair somewhat shaken by the exercise, falling here and there on
her beautiful face. The dark eyes were bent down with the long
eyelashes resting on her cheek, as if she would not interrupt his
meditations by a look; but at length the earl said, "This is a strange
dream, indeed, dear Julia; and the occurrence is the more strange,
inasmuch as something very similar happened to me last night also."
Julia started, and looked up. "Oh, what?" she exclaimed.
"The selfsame person appeared to me likewise," replied her lover. "I
know him well by your description, too accurate to be mistaken; but
that which is perhaps the most strange of all is, that to me he
appeared as I have never seen him represented, but as I have heard him
described, and to you, who have neither seen him nor his picture,
exactly as his portrait stands in my gallery at Perth."
"But what did he say to you? What was the import of your dream?" asked
Julia.
"I am not so certain it was a dream," replied Lord Gowrie; "would that
I were; but his warning to me was very similar to that addressed to
yourself. You have told me all, dear Julia, and I must not withhold
anything from you; but still, while speaking with perfect confidence
to each other, we must not let anything like superstitious fears
affect our conduct or turn us from our course. Your heart and mine,
dear girl, are inseparably linked for weal and woe. God grant, for thy
sake, that the happiness may predominate; but I feel that neither
could know what happiness is were we ever to part."
"Oh, no, no!" murmured Julia, in a low tone, letting the reins fall
upon her horse's neck, and clasping her hands together, while her head
bowed down as if something oppressed her almost to fainting--"Oh, no,
no! That hour were death."
Gowrie soothed her by assurances of eternal love, and then proceeded
to tell her all that had occurred to him during the preceding night.
He spoke of it, too, as of a delusion of the imagination; but Julia
fell into thought which lasted several minutes after he had done. At
length she looked up with a brighter glance. "If you remember," she
said, "the night before last we were looking over together those
papers concerning my birth, and we spoke much of my father and your
ancestor who slew the unhappy Rizzio. The subject rested long in my
mind; and perhaps on you also it had no slight effect. Do you not
think, Gowrie, that in passing through the scenes we have lately
traversed, with things exciting the imagination at every step, weary
and exhausted too, fancy was likely to reproduce for us, in sleepy or
drowsy hours, the phantoms which had haunted us throughout the day?"
"Perhaps so," answered her lover, glad to catch at any solution of a
mystery so dark and painful--"perhaps so, my Julia; and yet these
dreams are very like realities sometimes. The people in my land--in
our land--are given much to superstition, and I would far rather
imagine that I had yielded to those impressions implanted in us during
youth, than believe that such a warning should in our case be
requisite or given."
"But do you believe, Gowrie, that such a thing is now permitted as
that the spirits of the dead should revisit earth in the forms which
they bore while living?" Julia asked, gravely, and then added, "he who
was my instructor from my earliest years had no faith in such events."
"Much has been said, much ever will be said," answered Gowrie, "upon
that, in regard to which little can ever be known on this side of the
grave. Philosophy, my Julia, says one thing, and something in man's
own breast ever says another. Our knowledge tells us that we can never
see that which has no substance, that we cannot hear that which has no
voice. The spirit within says, 'There are means of communication
between me and my unimprisoned brethren. The eye is my servant in my
communication with earthly things, the ear is but the portico of the
audience chamber of the mind, where the voices of earth are heard; but
for things not of earth there is another sight, another hearing. The
sovereign mind communicates with them direct, and not through her
ministers.'"
He spoke gravely, for the subject was one of those in regard to which
we are inclined to apply the aids of philosophy to confirm opinions
formed already without their help. Few persons in the world, and very
few, indeed, in Scotland, at that time, were without faith in dreams
and apparitions; and what is, indeed, very strange, those who were the
most sceptical of the truths of revealed religion, were often the most
credulous of the tales of superstition.
Julia, however, saw that he was sad, and she made every effort to
conquer the gloom which her strange dream had cast upon her own mind;
for there can be no doubt that it had made its impression--not,
indeed, that she received it as a real warning from another world, for
her mind had been differently tutored in early years; but still it had
filled her thoughts with gloomy images, and she had given way to them
more than was customary with her. Now, however, she strove to resume
her natural cheerfulness, and quietly, easily, with that simple art
which nature teaches to a kind heart, led the conversation away,
without any abrupt transition, from the subject which seemed to give
pain to him she loved.
They were now at the bottom of the hill; and although they had ridden
more rapidly down than was perhaps very prudent, they drew in their
horses' reins when they reached the level ground, in order to let Mr.
Rhind rejoin them. He was riding slowly along, still reading; but a
sound, which startled the whole party, and their horses also, soon
caused him to quicken his pace, in order to get to Lord Gowrie's side
again. 'Tis a strange power which strong minds have over weak ones. By
circumstances, power and authority may be placed in the hands of the
weak, and they may exercise them till the exercise becomes habitual;
but in every moment of difficulty or danger, the strong mind assumes
the sway, and the weaker one takes refuge under its shelter. Mr. Rhind
had known Lord Gowrie from his infancy, had received rule over him
when he was a boy, had been placed with him to guide him when he was a
youth. He hardly looked upon him as more even now; he hardly
comprehended that his tutorship was finished; but the instant that a
peril presented itself, or an embarrassment occurred, instead of
protecting and guiding, he sought protection and guidance from his
former pupil.
I left the reader waiting for a sound, or at least for some
description of that sound which startled the whole party. It was that
of a cannon-shot, not very far distant either; and before Mr. Rhind
could reach the young earl's side, or any one could ask any questions,
another and another succeeded, till the number reached to
four-and-twenty.
"Good gracious, my dear lord, we have got into the midst of the
hostile armies," exclaimed Mr. Rhind.
"The king must have made more rapid progress than I expected," replied
Lord Gowrie, in a calm, quiet tone. "Those guns must be from
Montmeillant or Chamberry."
"From Montmeillant, my lord," said Austin Jute, who had ridden up.
"The sounds come from the east."
"But the wind blows down the valley," answered the earl. "What shall
we do, dear Julia? Are you afraid?"
"What is the choice?" she asked.
"To go on by Chamberry and the Pont Beauvoisin to Lyons, or retread
our steps towards Grenoble, and take the longer way. It is evident
that a part of the King of France's army is before us; but we cannot
tell what is taking place on the Grenoble road."
"May I go on and reconnoitre, my lord?" said Austin Jute. "I can bring
you back information, and perhaps a pass. They say it is better to be
at the end of a feast than at the beginning of a fray, and perhaps it
may be so; but I like a little bit of the fray, too, provided it last
not too long."
"That may be the best plan," said his master. "Tie something white
round your arm, and prick on; we will follow slowly."
Before this scheme could be executed, however, a party of some eight
or ten horsemen came dashing round the rocky turn of the road, and
cantered down into the meadow which lay on the bank of the stream,
before they saw the party of the young earl. They were all in arms
except two, and evidently belonged to one or other of the contending
forces. The next moment, however, the eyes of one of those who bore no
defensive armour rested on the group under the hill; and turning his
rein suddenly thither, followed by all his companions, he was soon in
front of the party of travellers, and shouting in a loud, but gay and
jesting tone, "Stand, give the word!"