"Can you tell me where I shall find my sister, Ballough?" said the
Earl of Gowrie, addressing the usher of the queen's chambers, after he
left the king.
"She's gone out with her brother, my lord," replied the officer; "and
I think they took their way to your lordship's lodgings."
"I do not think it, Ballough," said the earl. "I must have met them;
or at least they must have seen my horses at the gate."
"They went the other way, my lord," said the man. "I saw them go
towards the physic garden. I heard the Lady Beatrice say that that
would be the quietest road, as they were on foot."
"Can I pass through there?" asked the earl.
"Not through this passage, my lord," replied the man, "but if you go
round by the portico, you'll find the little gate open, and that will
lead you straight."
The earl accordingly dismissed his horses and servants, and took his
way through a part of the gardens of Holyrood, or "the abbey," as it
was frequently called in those days, issuing forth into the more busy
part of the town by a gate at some distance from the palace. The door
itself was closed but not locked; and, as he was approaching it,
he heard a voice saying, "We have not starved your horse, you
foul-tongued southron! Now, ride away as fast as you can go; and mind,
if you say one word, you will be put into one of the dungeons at
Stirling, and treated to a taste of the boot you saw the other day.
There, away with you!" And these words were followed by the loud crack
of a whip.
"A whole skin is the best coat that ever was made," said a voice which
Gowrie thought he knew well, and passing through the door at the same
moment, he looked eagerly up the street, his eye guided by the
clattering of a horse's feet at a rapid pace. On that side appeared no
other than the figure of his own man, Austin Jute, mounted on the very
horse which he had ridden to Trochrie; and turning sharply round, the
earl saw on the other hand, walking away towards the palace, the stout
form and club foot of Dr. Herries, and another gentleman attached to
the king's household, named Graham.
Gowrie asked himself what could be the meaning of this. Could Jute be
really betraying him after serving him so long and so faithfully. "I
will not believe it," he said to himself. "The tricks of these courts
would make a man suspicious of his best friend. Yet it is very
strange--but I will wait and see. I shall soon discover, by the man's
manner, if he is concealing anything from me;" and with matter for
musing, he walked on his way. Neither brother nor sister did he meet
as he went on, but found both waiting for him at his dwelling in the
town.
"We thought to catch you before you set out, Gowrie," said Beatrice,
as soon as she saw him, "for Hume wrote me word this morning that he
had seen you. However, I trust, from your look, that all is safe and
right, and that the king's good humour, which waxes and wanes like the
moon, has not decreased since yesterday."
Gowrie sat down by her side, and told her all that had occurred, the
whole account being tinged with the joyful hopes of his own heart.
Beatrice looked pleased, but less so than he expected; and she asked,
somewhat abruptly, "And now, Gowrie, what do you intend to do?"
"To set out for Trochrie as soon as this paper of renunciation is
drawn up," he replied; "and then transplant my wild rose to Dirleton."
"Take my advice, and do no such thing," answered Beatrice. "Depend
upon it, Gowrie, she's safer where she is. You do not know the king as
well as we do. With him the sunshine often prognosticates worse
weather than the clouds; and I very much doubt his motives in this
matter. That you have got his written consent is a great step,
certainly; and we may well be joyful thereat; but he is famous for
baiting traps; and if he once got her into his power, think what a
hold he would have upon you. It would cost him more men and more money
than he can collect, to take her by force from Trochrie; and he has no
excuse for attempting it; but if once she were at Dirleton, he would
soon find means of bringing her to Edinburgh, and then your freedom of
action would be gone."
"You are a wise counsellor, Beatrice," replied her brother; "and I
like your advice well. 'Tis only that Trochrie is such a lonely and
desolate solitude for the dear girl, that makes me hesitate."
"You can easily render it less solitary," said Alexander Ruthven,
laughing. "Go up there yourself, and keep her company."
"If you will come with me, Alex," replied his brother.
The young man coloured and looked embarrassed. "I cannot do that now,
John," he answered. "I was a long time absent from my post in the
winter."
"The truth is, Alex," said Gowrie, frankly, "from all I hear, it seems
to me that it would be better if you were more frequently absent--nay,
if you were to give up this office altogether."
"What! and have they poisoned your mind, too, Gowrie?" cried the
other, impetuously. "I will not go; for by so doing I should only
confirm the falsehoods they have spread. I will not abandon my own
cause, or show a shame of my own conduct, whatever my friends and
relations may do."
"You speak too warmly, Alex," said the young earl. "Your relations
have no inclination to abandon your cause; and I trust and believe you
would never give them occasion to feel ashamed of your conduct; but I
only advise you for your own good. Suspicion is a dangerous thing in
the mind of a king, and, whether justly or unjustly founded, is to be
avoided by all reasonable means. Besides, were your royal master and
lady entirely out of the question, no man has a right to furnish cause
for dissension in any family."
"Oh, if I were out of the way, it would be some other to-morrow,"
answered the young man. "The king's suspicion must have some object
upon which to fix."
"I would have it any other object than yourself, Alex," replied his
brother. "However, I have given you my advice, and you may take it or
not, as you please."
"I shall certainly not withdraw from the court," replied Alexander
Ruthven, in an impatient tone. "I should consider that I was doing
wrong to the character of another whom I am bound to love and respect.
Therefore, to give me that advice, Gowrie, is but talking to the
winds, for in this case I am sure I am right."
"I much doubt it," replied the earl, and there dropped the subject,
for he saw that it would be of no avail to pursue it farther.
Beatrice had remained silent during this brief conversation between
the two brothers, with her eyes bent down on the ground and her cheek
somewhat pale, but the moment it was concluded, she looked up,
recurring at once to what had been passing before.
"I would offer to go with you, Gowrie," she said, "and cheer your dear
Julia in her solitude; but I think I may be more useful to you both
where I am; for, both on your account and on Alex's, my task must be
to watch narrowly everything that occurs, and give you the first
intimation of danger. Whether Alex will receive a warning I do not
know; but you, Gowrie, I am sure, will listen to the very first hint
that I give you. I may not be able to speak plainly. I may be obliged
to write but a few words; but watch and understand, my dear brother,
and if I say, fly, then lose not a moment."
"Why should you suppose I will not attend to your warning, Beatrice?"
asked her brother Alexander, with the irritability of one who knows
that others think him in the wrong, and who is not quite sure himself
that he is in the right.
"How can I suppose you will take a warning," asked his sister, "when
you will take no advice?"
"Because a warning refers to a matter of fact, advice to a matter of
opinion," answered the young man.
"Well, well," answered Beatrice, "do not let us dispute, Alex. I
think, with Gowrie, it would be much better for you to go; but you may
be sure, Alex, that if ever I tell you you are in actual peril, which
I can foresee will be the case some day, I do not speak without
perfect certainty. And now good bye, Gowrie. We must not be too long
away, otherwise the king will think that we are plotting together."
"You see he suspects every one as well as me," said her young brother,
determined to make out a case in his own favour; "and I am sure Gowrie
is as little a favourite as I am myself. Besides, I do believe from
his conduct yesterday, that James is now convinced his previous
suspicions were unjust, and that he desires to make atonement."
"Pooh, pooh!" answered Beatrice, tossing her head with a somewhat
scornful smile. "The king never made atonement to any one. The king
always thinks he is right, and has been ever right, and will be right
to the end of his life. He never dreams for a moment that he can have
been wrong, though he may take means to lull the objects of his
dislike or his doubts till they are wholly in his power.--But now
come, Alex, do not let us pursue this subject any farther, but return
quietly to the palace."
Then bidding her elder brother adieu, the lady left him, and,
accompanied by Alexander, walked back almost in silence to Holyrood;
for she herself was full of doubts and anxieties, and Alexander
Ruthven was in that state of irritation which is often produced,
especially in a young mind, by a conflict between a wish to do right
and strong temptations to do wrong.
I need not pause to detail the passing of the day with Gowrie. The
law's delay is proverbial as one of the banes of human existence in
the blessed land wherein we live.--It was so even in his time; and he
found, on consulting with those who had to deal with such matters,
that the drawing up of the renunciation, simple as it seemed, would
require the labour and attention of several days, in order to couch it
in the full and ample terms which he knew would be required by the
king. He had to give long explanations, and to enter into details
which he had not previously considered, so that the greater part of a
spring day was consumed before he left the dim and dingy den where the
man of law held his abode. On his return to his own house he passed
more than an hour in walking up and down the large and handsome
sitting-room, and meditating over the past and the future. If it be
asked whether his thoughts were sad or bright, I must answer, very
much mixed, as is ever the case with a man of strong sense and active
imagination. But Gowrie, it must be remembered, was in the spring of
life, in that bright season when the song of the wild bird, hope, is
the most loud and sweet and seducing. The circumstances which
surrounded him might alarm or sadden him for the time, but the
cheering voice still spoke up in his heart, and the syren sang not in
vain. At length he ordered lights to be brought, and casting himself
into a chair, took up a book--his favourite Sallust--and began to
read. The pages opened at the Catiline, and the first words struck
him, as strangely applicable to the half-formed resolution which had
been floating vaguely in his mind, of passing life in peaceful
retirement.
"Omnis homines, qui sese student præstare ceteris animalibus, summa
ope niti decet vitam silentio ne transeant, veluti pecora, quæ natura
prona, atque ventri obedientia, finxit."
"And yet," he said, "methinks many a man can raise himself above
the brute without mingling in the busy turmoil of the world's
affairs--nay, do more real service to his country and his race in the
silence of deep but peaceful thought than in the noisy contests of
courts and cities."
Then he went on to read, till he came to the splendid description of
Catiline.--"Lucius Catilina, nobili genere natus, magna vi et animi et
corporis, sed ingenio malo provoque," &c.
"What a picture of wickedness," he thought, as he read on; "ay, and
what a picture of the state of Rome under the republic, when it was
possible to say of any one man's life, 'Huic, ab adolescentia bella
intestina, cædes, rapinæ, discordia civilis, grata fuere; ibique
juventutem suam exercuit.' Is this the fruit of free and democratic
institutions?" he thought. "Is a state so nearly approaching to
anarchy, the result of popular government? A despotism were better!
But yet it cannot be so. There must be a mean between the licence
which destroys and the authority which oppresses society, when the
people have sufficient power to guard and support their liberties, and
the magistrates of the land are armed with the means of checking
lawless violence without trenching upon lawful freedom. I am not a
free man if there be others in the land who have the power to injure
me unpunished: my freedom is as much controlled by them as it could be
by any king. It is laws which make real freedom, laws justly framed
and firmly executed, laws above kings and subjects both.--But let me
see what he says more."
He had not time, however, to turn the pages of the book before the
door quietly opened behind him, and a step was heard upon the floor.
He did not turn his head, however; and the person who came in
proceeded round the table to the opposite side of the fireplace, when
Gowrie, suddenly looking up, beheld his servant, Austin Jute.
"Why, how now, Austin?" he exclaimed. "What has brought you to
Edinburgh? Has anything happened?"
"Nothing to my lady, sir," replied the Englishman, comprehending very
well that his sudden appearance might alarm the earl for Julia's
safety, "but a good deal to myself; and I thought it much better to
come and tell you, my lord, rather than go back to my duty, for nobody
can tell how much what happens to one man may do for another. I'm not
in Edinburgh by my own good will, you may easily believe, for you told
me to stay, and I would have stayed; but necessity has no law, and
what can't be cured must be endured. If other legs run away with me,
my legs aren't in fault, and might makes right, as people say.--Well,
my lord, I'm going on. I came against my will, as I shall set forth
presently. The way was this: it is just four days ago that we saw
three or four men riding in that long dark valley to the north west,
and old Mac Duff, your baron bailie, was thinking to go forth and see
what they were about; but knowing very well that if he were taken and
the place attacked, I could not command the men, or, at all events,
that they would not obey, which comes pretty near to the same thing, I
rode out alone to reconnoitre. I did not think I could be so easily
taken in, but this is a devil of a country, my lord, for such matters.
I looked sharp enough round, as I thought, all the way I went; but it
was impossible to go in and out amongst all the rocks and big stones,
and I still caught sight of the men I had seen from the tower. When I
came within about half a mile of them, they turned round and began to
ride away, as if they were afraid of being caught, and thinking they
had only been upon some marauding expedition with which I had nothing
to do, I did not ride after them more than a couple of hundred yards;
but when I turned to go home again, I saw five men on foot blocking up
the road behind me. I made a dash at them, thinking to get through,
but they were too much for me, my lord, and they soon had my horse by
the bridle, commanding me to surrender in the king's name. I asked for
their warrant, but they only laughed at me; and the other men on
horseback coming up, they tied my feet under the saddle, and my hands
behind my back. The horsemen rode with me, but the men on foot
disappeared."
"Did they go towards the castle?" demanded Gowrie, with some anxiety.
"What men did you leave behind?"
"Oh, the castle is safe enough, my lord," answered Austin Jute. "There
were fifteen men in all in it; and when I went away I said, 'Safe
bind, safe find, Mr. MacDuff. Pull up the drawbridge as soon as I'm
out; and if I'm not back in half an hour, send out for some of your
friends round about.' He'd soon have enough to help him; and there was
plenty of provision in the place, besides the beacon on the top of the
turret, which would bring more in a few hours; but they wanted nothing
at the castle, though no doubt they'd have taken my lady if they could
have caught her. That I found out by what I overheard as they brought
me here."
"And what happened to you here?" demanded the earl.
"Why, first they carried me up to a place called the castle, my lord,"
answered Austin Jute, "where I was crammed into a dark, cold hole, and
had nothing given me to eat but nasty stuff made of oatmeal and water;
but, at the end of some hours, they took me down to what they called
the abbey, where I was not so well off as before. Bad's the best, they
say, but better bad than worse; and so it was in my case, for now I
was left in the dark without anything to eat or drink at all for a
great many hours, till the sunshine came in at a hole up above, and I
began to whistle to pass the time. Soon after I was taken out, and was
carried to a room where there were five or six people, and a large
curtain across one end of the room. There was a table, too, with
several things upon it, some little and some big, made of iron, and of
very odd unpleasant shapes. One was like a barbecuing spit, only not
so big; and I heard them call it the boot. A stout man was standing by
the table, twice as big as I am, with his jerkin off and his sleeves
turned up. I did not like his look at all. When I was brought in,
those who were at the table began to cross-question me in all manner
of ways as to what I did in Scotland, and how I came to be at
Trochrie; and I beat about the bush a long time, especially when they
asked me about my lady----"
"Then they knew already she was there?" said the earl.
"I'm not quite sure, my lord, now," said Austin Jute, frankly. "They
seemed to know at the time; but I believe they took me in. I would not
tell you a lie, my lord, for the world; but I've a strong notion they
made me betray myself, by pretending to know more than they did. I'm
very sorry for it; but what's done can't be undone. A bolt that's shot
must go its own way. However, when I found that, either by what I said
or by what they themselves knew, they were quite sure of the matter, I
refused to answer any more questions as to how she was brought there,
and all the rest. Then they threatened to put the boot on me, as they
called it. I did not like that at all. I should have fancied my leg a
pig being roasted alive; but instead of that they put a thing upon my
thumb, and told me to answer truly, or it should be screwed up."
Gowrie rose from his seat, and walked up and down the room with his
cheek flushed and his brow contracted; but he said nothing; and, after
gazing at his lord for a moment, Austin Jute continued. "They changed
their course now, however, and began asking if I had been with you in
Italy; so I said I had. Then they inquired where you had hired me; on
which I said, in Padua, five years ago. After that, this question
arose, whether I had known the lady Julia there, and her grandfather,
and how long. It was an unpleasant sort of catechism with that thing
dangling at my thumb; but having heard the king talk at Falkland about
the lady's money, and how much he expected to make by having her in
ward, I saw what they were seeking, and I said to myself, they'll come
to the money in a few minutes. A nod is as good as a wink to a blind
horse, and so I answered, boldly, that I had known her and the old
gentleman ten or twelve years, long before your lordship came to
Padua."
"But that was false," exclaimed the earl.
"I can't help that, my lord," replied Austin Jute; "it answered its
purpose. As I had got into a scrape by letting out the truth, there
was only one way of mending it--by letting out some falsehood. Put
them into two scales, and the one will balance the other. If people
ask me questions they have no business to ask, they may get answers
that I have no business to give. However, they asked me how the old
gentleman and the young lady lived in Padua, and knowing I could do no
mischief now, I said, 'Heaven knows. They were poor enough, in all
conscience; but where they got what little they had, I can't tell.'
Then a club-footed man, that sat at the end of the table, said
quietly, 'Then they did not keep up much state;' at which I laughed,
and made him no answer, as if the very thought of such a thing was too
ridiculous; upon which that accursed fellow, with the sleeves turned
up, gave a turn to the thing upon my thumb, and sent a pain running
all the way down to the soles of my feet. I never felt anything like
that. I had well nigh roared with it; but I set my teeth hard and held
my breath; and the man at the end of the table checked the tormentor
for what he had done, and bade him keep his hands off till he was bid.
So the thing was unscrewed; and then they asked me how many servants
the old signor kept, and I humbly inquired whether they meant men or
maids. The answer was, 'Both,' to which I replied, 'One, and she
was an old woman. So it answered both purposes.' The man with the
club-foot called me a saucy knave, and tried to look very angry; but
he laughed notwithstanding, and inquired if I were sure there had been
no more kept; and I answered, 'Not one as long as I had known the
family.' The other questions were all of the same sort, and they tried
to puzzle me very hard; but they could not manage it, though they
talked about a man servant whom they pretended the signor had kept. To
that I had my answer pat, however--that I was ready to swear upon the
Evangelists that there had never been any but one and the same servant
there for ten years. 'Whether it was a man or a woman,' I said, 'it
was impossible for me to say. Their honours knew best; but one thing I
would take my oath of, that it wore petticoats and was called Tita.'
Thereupon there was a great burst of laughter; and the room had a
strange echo in it, for the same sounds came back from behind the
curtain."
"The party seems to have been a merry one," said the earl,
"considering the circumstances."
"Nevertheless, they took me back, and plunged me into the same dark
hole, and left me there till this morning, when I was taken out, in an
oddish kind of way, not by a jailor or a guard, but by two gentlemen.
There was a little boy, about as high as my knee, standing by a
garden-gate to which they brought me, and he had my horse in his hand.
So they told me to get up and ride away, as if Satan were behind me,
back to Trochrie, and not to say a word to a living soul, but more
especially to you, my lord, of anything that had happened; and they
threatened me sore, moreover. I did ride away, for I was glad to be
out of their hands; but I remained at the south ferry house till dusk,
and then came back to seek your lordship and tell you all."
"You have done well, Austin," replied Gowrie, "and are an honest
faithful fellow. I was nearer to you and them, when they mounted you
this morning, than either knew; and I heard something said about
starving your horse."
"Oh, that was but a snap, my lord, where I had no teeth to bite hard,"
replied Austin. "I know that a bitter word is often worse than a sharp
sword. So, having nothing else to say, I told them they had starved my
horse to make him like themselves. I took care to be in the saddle
first, however; but, instead of trying to stop me, one of them gave
the poor beast a cut with his whip, and sent us both about our
business."
How the king had obtained information that Julia was concealed at
Trochrie was now in part revealed; but only in part, for it was
evident, from Austin's capture and examination, that some hint had
been gained before--how, Gowrie could not divine. The honest servant
was sent back before dawn on the following day, on his way to the
highland castle, and he did not depart without a liberal reward, which
he accepted without ceremony, for there were no affectations about
good Austin Jute. He served faithfully, devotedly, where he attached
himself; he would at any time have perilled life or limb, or
sacrificed every comfort and convenience for a lord he loved; and, to
say nought but truth, I do not think that, in so doing, he ever in his
inmost heart thought of a recompence, but he took it willingly enough
when it was given, and, sad to say, spent it with as little
consideration as he won it.
Several more days elapsed ere the paper Gowrie required was drawn up
by the men of law, and he twice presented himself at the palace. All
there seemed still fair and smooth; the king's good humour lasted
undisturbed; the queen was ever kind and gracious; Sir Hugh Herries
did not appear at court, and John Ramsay, though distant to Alexander
Ruthven, was warmer in his manner to the earl.
"Beatrice's doubts are unfounded, I do believe," thought Gowrie, as he
rode away after the second visit; and when he returned to his own
dwelling, he found the act of renunciation waiting for him. Somewhat
less than an hour of daylight still remained, and that time was spent
in reading and considering the document.
The sun had just set, leaving a bright glow in the April sky, and
Gowrie had risen to gaze at it from a window which looked out towards
the west, when suddenly he heard a hasty foot in the ante-room, and
the next instant Sir John Hume entered in haste.
"Here, Gowrie," he said, advancing with a small paper folded and
sealed in his hand. "Here is something for you. What it contains I
know not; but Beatrice slipped it into my hand in haste and agitation,
saying, in a whisper, 'To Gowrie, with all speed.'"
Gowrie took it, tore it open, and found the words, "Away, with all
speed, to Perth!--to-night!"
"My lord, here is Sir George Ramsay without, desiring to see you,"
said a servant, looking in.
"Admit him," replied the earl, crushing the paper in the palm of his
hand.
The next moment Ramsay entered, with as much apparent haste as Hume;
but on seeing the latter he paused, assumed a calmer air, and
advancing to the earl, shook hands with him, saying, "It is a fair and
warm afternoon, my lord, what say you to a twilight ride?"
"Not to-night, Dalhousie," replied Gowrie, gazing at him attentively;
"have you any particular object in your proposal?"
"Only to have a few minutes' conversation with you, my dear lord,"
replied the other, returning his glance with one of equal
significance; "but a moment here in private will do as well;" and he
moved towards a distant window.
Gowrie followed him, bending down his head; and Ramsay approaching
close, whispered in his ear, "You are in danger, my lord. It were well
you departed at once. Lose no time--I dare not say more."
Gowrie pressed his hand kindly and gratefully, saying, "Thanks,
Dalhousie, thanks! I had heard the tidings before; but the obligation
to you is no less."
He spoke openly and aloud; and his friend, laying his finger on his
lip, as if to counsel discretion, retired almost as hastily as he had
come.
Ere half an hour had passed, the earl was on horseback, and riding
towards Queensferry.