Austin Jute's horse was a strong one, but it was hardly strong enough
for his purpose. Austin Jute's own frame was hardened by much
exercise, but it was barely firm enough to endure what he imposed upon
it. He left the presence of the king with a very quiet though a quick
step; and had the eye of James traced him along the avenue, he would
have seen that easy, jaunty, somewhat self-satisfied air, which was
natural to him--and is to most men who have always a proverb under
their hand for a walking-stick--not in the least diminished by his
late interview. But, alas! that which was natural to him at other
times was now assumed. He would not have drooped a feather at that
moment for the world. Even when he had reached the little hostel or
inn, which had been set up as near the gates of the palace as decency
permitted, and to say truth, by the connivance of the king's
comptroller, somewhat nearer than in strictness it should have been,
he maintained his gay and quite-at-ease demeanour: laughed with the
good man of the house, eat something which had been prepared for him
during his absence, and seemed to be trifling away his time, when
suddenly a large clock, which then graced the front of the palace,
struck one, and Austin started up with a look of surprise.
"Gads, my life!" he exclaimed, "is that one o'clock?"
"Oo, ay," replied the host, "that's the knock's just chappit ane."
"Then I'm an hour behind," cried Austin; and paying his score with due
attention, he mounted and rode away, merely asking, in a common-place
tone, which was his shortest road towards Carlisle.
His movements were all reported in the palace before half an hour was
over; but when it was found that he had made inquiries about the
Carlisle road, no further questions were put. But Austin Jute did not
long continue on the road he first took. He had learned by some
experience in his various travels to foil pursuit, even in countries
that he did not know; and he was soon riding on a bridle path towards
Lesslie, going on at a quick but not a violent pace, anxious to
advance as rapidly as possible, but not to knock up his beast before
he reached his journey's end.
To all human creatures whom he met on the road, to innkeepers, and
even inn-keepers' daughters, he was uncommonly taciturn; but with his
horse he held long conversations, which seemed to comfort the poor
animal greatly.
"Well, you got over that last mile bravely, Sorrel," he would say; "a
good heart's worth a peck of provender. But a peck you shall have at
the very next village. If we cannot get oats we can get meal, that's
one comfort, in Scotland. Thank Heaven, you are no way dainty, and I
dare say would drink a stoup of Bordeaux wine if we could find it.
Perhaps we may, too, at the next town. We never know where good luck
lies."
He kept his word, and the horse justified his good opinion; for the
wine was procured, and the beast drank it, seeming as much revived
thereby as if wine were made to cheer the heart of beast as well as
man.
On, on, the pair went, however; and as they passed over one of those
wild moors, neither then nor now unfrequent in the land of cakes,
Austin began to tell the good stout horse all about his interview with
King James, in the full confidence he would never repeat it.
"I think I managed that right well, Sorrel," he said. "The covetous
thief never dreamt that I knew him all the time, and had heard every
word he said for a long while before. By cock and pie, if he had, I
should have had both my ears slit, I'll warrant; the right ear for
eaves-dropping, and the left for calling him 'old gentleman.'--You
answer never a word, Sorrel. That's poor encouragement for a man to
tell a merry tale. If thou wouldst but give a horse-laugh or anything,
I would say thou art a witty beast and understandest a joke. But thou
art weary, poor fellow," he added, patting the horse's neck, "and yet
thou must go many a mile further ere morning. A merciful man is
merciful to his beast; but I must not be merciful to thee, or my dear
lord and lady may suffer, and thou wouldst not like that, Sorrel.
Well, well, take the hill easily, then; I will get off and walk by thy
side. Here's a pool of water, thou shalt have a drink."
In this sort went he on; and it is not too much to say, that by such
cheerful conversation and a great number of little attentions, he kept
up both his own spirit and the horse's.
It is no slight distance from Falkland to Berwick, take it which way
one will; but when the distance was aggravated by having to cross the
Firth of Forth, an operation disagreeable both to man and beast, it
may easily be conceived that Austin's expectation of reaching Berwick
before the next morning was a bold one. His journey also had been
increased by the detour he had made at first setting out, and by a
ride of five-and-twenty miles or more in the morning. He reached
Kinghorn, however, about half-past three; and there, after sundry
inquiries as to his best course, hired one of those large and
excellent boats for which the place was famous, to put him over to
Prestonpans. The wind was low but favourable, the sea calm, and
neither Austin nor his horse suffered so much as might have been
expected; but still, the poor animal showed no great inclination to go
farther forward that night. He eat his provender, however, with a good
appetite, that surest sign of a horse not being near the foundering
stage; and after an hour and a half's rest, the traveller set out once
more by the light of the stars. Sorrel bore up well to Haddington, but
between that place and Dunbar, his pace grew slower and more slow,
till at length it fell into a walk.
"Well, I will not hurry thee, Sorrel," said Austin, "thou hast gone
good sixty miles to-day, besides two ferries, and if we get to Dunbar
'tis but thirty more to Berwick. It cannot be eight o'clock yet, and
thou shalt have some hours' rest."
Thus saying, he dismounted, and walked by the beast's side for the
next five miles, till the sound of the ocean beating with a heavy
murmur on the shore showed him that the town of Dunbar was near; and
in a moment after he saw a light here and a light there, at no great
distance before him. Mounting his horse, he rode quietly in, and
stopped a sober citizen, who, with a lantern in his hand, was taking
his way through the unlighted streets.
In answer to his inquiry for the best inn, the good man, as usual,
directed him "straight on," adding the invariable "you cannot miss
it."
He was so far right, however, that Austin did not miss it, and riding
into the open yard, was soon in possession of the landlord and his
myrmidons.
"Ae, ye've a tired beast there," said the good man, "and we must find
a stall for him, though we've more than we can well lodge already; for
the great Earl of Gowrie came in an hour or two ago with all his
people."
"No, not with all of them," answered Austin Jute, "for I am one; and I
hope and trust that the earl has not gone to bed yet, for I have kind
greetings to him from the king's majesty, which I ought to give as
soon as may be."
"In bed!" cried the landlord. "Fie! His supper's just put on, and the
auld man has hardly finished his thanks yet for the good meat."
"If that's the case I'll let him have his meal in peace," answered
Austin, "and after I have seen to poor Sorrel, you shall take me where
the other servants are, that I may have some meat too; for, to say
sooth, I've had but one cup of bad wine and a morsel since daylight."
"That is the way servants treat their lords," thought the host; "here
is this man has a message even from the king himself, and he must
first fill his beast's stomach, and then his own before he delivers
it."
But he did good Austin Jute injustice, for without a strong motive he
would have gone fasting to bed, rather than have provided for his own
wants--whatever he might have done for his horse's--before he
fulfilled his duty to his master. But, to say truth, he had a
disinclination to the presence of Mr. Rhind when his tale was to be
told, and having, with that acuteness which the lower orders exercise
more frequently upon the higher than the higher imagine, acquired a
thorough knowledge not only of Mr. Rhind's character but of all his
little habits, he calculated very accurately what would be his
proceedings. "He has had a long ride," thought Austin; "he will eat a
good supper; he will drink a good cup of wine; and then he will go to
bed directly. I must spend my time as best I may till then, and when
the coast is clear, go in and tell my tale. It must be a long one."
"Don't you say a word of my arrival, good host," he continued, perhaps
gathering from the landlord's countenance what was passing in his
mind, and "fooling him to the top of his bent." "Servants must feed,
you know, as well as their masters, and if they know I'm here, I may
be sent for, and kept an hour before I get a bit of meat and a crust
of bread between my grinders."
"Well, well," said the host, with a sigh; and after Austin had seen
the corn duly poured out under Sorrel's nose, he was led into the inn
kitchen, where he was at once received with such a shout of
gratulation by his fellows, as to show the host that his new guest was
a favourite with his equals, whatever he might be with his superiors.
Austin eat his supper in peace and merriment, jesting gaily with all
around him, but still carrying on a course of under-thought in his own
mind till his meat was finished, and then the landlord thought fit to
hint that it might be as well for him to deliver his message, hoping
perchance to hear the terms thereof; and the words of a king were
great in the eyes of a Scottish host in those days.
"Your lord has all but done, I can tell you, my man," he said.
"Ay, all but and well nigh," said Austin; "has the old gentleman gone
to bed yet? Supper is not over till he's gone, I think."
"No, he's not gone yet," answered the host, "but he's just dawdling
over some nuts."
"Well, then, he'll entertain my lord till I've taken another cup,"
replied Austin Jute; and he set himself to work again to make his
companions laugh, with an affectation of insolence he did not really
feel.
A minute or two after, however, the landlord returned, saying, "The
old gentleman's gone now--and I'm thinking you had better not let your
lord know how long you've been here."
"Oh dear, yes, I shall," replied the servant, starting up at once. "I
never hide anything from him, Master Host, whatever you may think;"
and away he went, without pause or hesitation.