The Earl of Gowrie slept well; nor did he wake till past six o'clock.
Even then he felt unwilling to get up, for the last hour had been
filled with pleasant dreams; and they set fancy wandering on the same
track, even after reason had roused herself to grapple with the tasks
of the day. In his sleep he had imagined that he was wandering with
Julia through a pleasant garden; he could not tell where. It was not
certainly in Perth; it was not at Dirleton; it was not any he had ever
seen in Italy or France. The fruits and flowers were of a different
kind from those of Europe--larger, brighter in colour, more
magnificent. The odour which filled the air was at once sweet and
refreshing; and the fountains that rose up here and there, the rivers
which glided through green banks at his feet, were so pure, and clear,
and bright, that the little stones at the bottom seemed like jewels,
as the eye penetrated the waters. There was a murmur, too, of many
sweet sounds in the air--birds singing, and happy voices, and the gush
of fountains, and the low song of the stream--all blended into an
entrancing harmony. There seemed nobody but himself and Julia in that
garden; and they sat together upon the velvet turf of a green bank,
with the shadow of a feathery tree waving over them, with nothing but
joyful sights and pleasant sounds around; and he held her hand in his,
and gazed into her dark and lustrous eyes, and they both murmured,
"This is like Heaven!"
For some minutes after he woke, he lay and thought of his dream. It is
very pleasant, on a bright summer's morning, with the birds singing
around, and the soft breath of dawn moving the air and agitating the
green branches, and the downy influence of sleep but half withdrawn,
to lie and meditate of happy days. Oh, how the images crowd upon us
then--how joy with joy weaves a wreath more beautiful than gems or
flowers--how we wish that life were indeed a day-dream like that! But
Gowrie was not suffered long to indulge. He heard some one moving in
the ante-room, and the next moment there was a tap at the door. He
rose and opened it, and, somewhat to his surprise, saw his servant,
Austin Jute; for he had thought it was his page come to call him.
"What is it, Austin?" he asked; "you seem disturbed."
"Oh no, my lord, not disturbed," replied the good man; "but a short
tale's soon told. I don't like your man Christie, my lord--the porter,
I mean."
"What has he done that you disapprove of, Austin?" asked the earl,
gravely.
"Nothing, my good lord," replied the Englishman. "That is to say,
nothing that I can say is wrong; and he is uncommonly civil to me; but
you can't always tell the bird by its feathers. A pig's got a long
snout, and so has a woodcock, but they're two different creatures.
However, to make short of my tale, Master Christie had two visitors in
his lodge this morning before five o'clock; and I'm very much mistaken
if I have not seen the face of one of them when you sent me to the
king at Falkland."
"He has a cousin amongst the royal servants," said the earl; but
Austin Jute shook his head with a doubtful look. "I never forget a
face," he said; "and very seldom a figure, when I have seen it. Now,
if I'm not much mistaken, indeed, the face I saw this morning, when I
saw it before, was going into the palace at Falkland with a very
different coat underneath it from that which was there to-day. There
was no badge then upon the arm either. They say fine feathers make
fine birds, it is true; and if so, it has sadly moulted; for it was a
finer bird then than now."
The earl mused for a moment or two, and then said, "That is somewhat
strange, indeed. It shall be inquired into."
"Ay, things are strange, my lord, till we hear stranger," said Austin
Jute. "I have not told you about the other man yet. I'm not likely, I
think, my lord, to forget a man I once ran through the body."
"I should suppose not, certainly," replied the earl. "Did you ever
confer that honour upon the second personage you saw to-day?"
"He was not first or second, my lord," replied Austin, "for I saw them
both at once. Birds of a feather fly together; and these two came up
cheek by jowl. However, if I ran a man through the body eight or nine
months ago in Paris--and people told me I did--he was here this
morning."
"As you say--stranger still!" replied the earl; "but this shall be
inquired into directly. How came you to observe them?"
"Why, I was up this morning to see Mr. Alexander off," replied
Austin, "and then I went out to walk through the town. As I was coming
back, I saw two men before me going along at a quick pace, till they
stopped at the gates here. They did not ring the great bell, but
knocked upon the railings with the end of a riding whip, and Christie
came quietly up and opened the gate. I stood at the corner and watched
them, so I had time enough to see what they were like. I did not like
to wake your lordship earlier, but as the people are all beginning to
stir, I thought it better to do so now."
"You were quite right, Austin," replied the earl. "Now go and send the
page to me. But say not a word of what you have seen to any one."
"Mum as a mouse, my lord," answered Austin Jute, and withdrew.
As soon as he was dressed, Gowrie descended into the court-yard, and
crossing it to the great gates, which were open, stood under the
archway close to the porter's room, looking up and down the street,
and giving Christie, who was bustling about within, a fair opportunity
of saying anything he might think fit. The man remained silent,
however, and the earl at length called him to him.
"Who had you here about five o'clock?" he demanded, as the man came
out, bowing low.
"Oo, it was just my cousin, Robbie Brown," replied the porter. "He was
on his way to Dundee, and looked in for a minute."
Gowrie fixed his eyes upon him in silence for a moment; and he could
see the tell-tale colour mount up into the man's cheek. "Who else had
you here?" he demanded, somewhat sternly.
"Weel, noo, to think o' that!" cried the porter, holding up his hands.
"If I had not clean forgotten to tell your lordship, that a very
worthy gentleman, Ramsay of Newburn, came speering as he gaed by, if I
thought your lordship could see him this evening. But I tellt him that
it was clean impossible, for I kenned you were to ride to Dirleton."
Gowrie was not deceived. There was falsehood in the man's face. Though
what could be the motive and what the object of all these proceedings
he could not divine, yet he saw that there was something evidently
wrong. Turning upon his heel, he re-entered the house, and, after
thinking for a few minutes, he sent for Mr. Cranston, saying, as soon
as he appeared, "I know not, Cranston, whether Henderson will have
returned before I set out, and as you remain here, I must charge you
with a message to him. Tell him to discharge the porter, Robert
Christie, at once, paying him whatever may be due to him, and giving
till to-morrow to remove from the house, but not to let him be found
here afterwards on any pretence."
"I will not fail, my lord," replied Cranston.
"And now send Henry Younger to me, if you can find him, Mr. Cranston,"
said the earl, who continued to walk up and down the room till the
servant he had sent for appeared.
"Younger," he said, as soon as the man entered, "you have been a good
deal with Sir George Ramsay's family. Do you know his cousin Newburn?"
"Oh, ay, right well, my lord," replied the servant; "a ne'er do weel
mischievous deevil, if ever there was one."
"Then take your horse, and ride to Dundee as fast as you can go," said
Gowrie. "See if you can find him out there, and bring me word if he be
in the good town, and who he has got with him."
"Am I to say anything to him from your lordship?" demanded the
servant.
"No," replied the earl at once. "All I wish to know is if he be there,
and who is with him. I have got nothing to say to him; but on those
two points I require satisfaction."
The man bowed and retired; and Gowrie proceeded with the ordinary
avocations of the day. Nevertheless, his mind was far from calm and at
ease. Many of those little ominous circumstances which, like clouds of
dust rising before a storm, prognosticate coming evil, though the
connexion cannot be traced, had gathered into the last two or three
days. The porter's sudden journey to Falkland during his absence, his
brother's unexpected summons to the king's presence, the visit at an
early and unusual hour of two persons from the court--all raised up
doubts in his mind as to the king's intentions; and he asked himself
what could James design, and how could he best meet it? Both questions
were difficult to be answered, and he revolved them in vain in his
mind till the hour arrived for his going, according to promise, to the
week-day preaching. In the parish church he found assembled, besides
the good citizens of the town, a number of gentlemen of his own name
and family, who were parishioners of Mr. William Row, the minister of
Forgandenny, who had undertaken to preach that day, the two regular
ministers of Perth being absent attending the provincial synod at
Stirling. Amongst those whom he knew best were the two sons of his
cousin, Alexander Ruthven of Freeland, and, in parting with them at
the church door, he invited them to dine with him that day at twelve,
as well as Drummond of Pitcairns and the Baron of Findown, who were
also present.
The moment after, the senior bailie of the town approached, and
informed him that there would be some business before the town council
that morning, if his lordship could attend; but Gowrie answered, with
a smile, "I fear, bailie, I cannot come, for Mr. Hay is to be with me
on county business, and though I love the good town well, I must not
give it all my time."
The worthy magistrate received his excuse in good part, and on
returning to his house, Gowrie found the gentleman he expected already
waiting for him. All who saw him during the morning remarked that he
was very grave; but he went through the whole of the matters which
were brought before him as sheriff of the county, and they were both
many and important, with great accuracy and attention. While Mr. Hay
was with him, and about ten o'clock, his factor Henderson returned,
and the earl eagerly asked, "What news from Falkland? Who found you
with the king?"
Henderson gave but a vague answer; and thinking he had something
particular to communicate, Gowrie took him into a neighbouring room,
and questioned him there.
What Henderson replied is not known; but on his return to the chamber
where he had left Mr. Hay, the earl found Mr. John Moncrief, who came
to obtain his signature to some papers.
"I met your lordship's factor," said that gentleman, after the first
salutation, "a mile or two south of Perth."
"Was he riding fast or slow?" asked the earl; for the most open and
generous natures will become suspicious by experience of man's
faithlessness.
"At a foot pace," answered Moncrief.
"Then I know not how he has got back so soon," answered Gowrie. "I
sent him with my brother Alex to Falkland, with orders to bring me
back word how the king received him, for there was some little
displeasure when they parted. Henderson was ordered to go to Ruthven
too, and he says he has been to both places. Now, I ride as boldly as
any man in the realm, and I could not have done as he has done in the
same time."
"He told me he had been three miles above the town," replied Moncrief.
"But these are the papers, my good lord, if you will be pleased to
read and subscribe them, for the lady cannot have her rights without
your signature."
"Then we will not detain your lordship farther," said Mr. Hay, rising.
"The rest of the county business can very well be settled at your
return."
Gowrie suffered him to depart, for, to say the truth, he was not very
fond of him; but Moncrief he asked to remain and dine, adding, "I
shall set off for Dirleton immediately after dinner. So you must not
expect me to play the good host, Moncrief."
The papers took long to examine, however, for Gowrie would not affix
his signature till he had read them through, so that it was half-past
twelve before he sat down to table. Just when the second course was
being placed upon the board, the earl's cousin, Andrew Ruthven,
entered the hall, dusty from his journey; and approaching the earl, he
said, in a low tone, "The king and all the court are coming this way,
my lord, and I rode on to tell you. The report is, that he is coming
to seize the Master of Oliphant."
"But the king is not coming here?" said Gowrie, with a heavy cloud
upon his brow. "The Master of Oliphant was at Dupplin this morning."
"I cannot tell, my lord," replied his cousin; "the king's words were
very short; all he said being--'Now you may ride on, Andrew.'"
"Well, well, sit down and take some dinner," said the earl,
thoughtfully. "Have you ridden fast?"
"I should have ridden faster," answered the other, "but there are such
a rout of Murrays in the street, I could hardly make my way through
them. I think the whole clan has turned in, with the Master of
Tullibardine at their head."
"What do they here in Perth?" demanded the earl. "Did you speak with
any of them?"
"Oh, yes," answered his cousin, seating himself at the board. "Some
quite down in Water-street, declared that they came to honour the
wedding of George Murray, who lives half way through the town; and
some said plainly, that they did not know--they came because they were
told."
"The Master of Tullibardine," said the earl, gloomily, "comes not to
honour the wedding of an inn-keeper. There is something more in this;
and we shall hear farther soon."
Andrew Ruthven had hardly time to fill his plate from one of the
dishes on the table, and to begin his dinner, when young Alexander
Ruthven entered the room in breathless haste, exclaiming--"Brother,
the king and all the court are near at hand. I left them, a few
minutes ago, not a mile from the town gates."
He fixed his eye eagerly, anxiously, upon his brother's countenance,
as if he could have said a world more, but had not time or courage to
speak. A shadow, like that of a flying cloud, swept over the earl's
face, deep but transitory--a momentary struggle in the heart, showing
itself by that grave, stern look--and calmed as soon as felt.
"Would that his majesty had given me notice," he said, "then might I
have received him more worthily. Nevertheless, we must prepare at
once. Gentlemen, we must go and meet the king. Henderson, take heed
that instant preparation be made that the king may dine. Let this room
be prepared for his majesty's meal; the great hall for the lords of
the court; my study near the gallery chamber for the king to take
repose, if he need it after such a day of fatigue. Have everything
ready as fast as possible, and spare neither speed nor money to
prepare befittingly. Cranston, I beg you run down at once, call the
bailies together, tell them the king is coming, and require them to
meet me as speedily as possible at the South Inch. Gentlemen all, you
had better rise and follow me to receive his majesty on his entrance
into Perth."
"By ---- we had better follow you to keep him out," said Hugh
Moncrief, with a meaning look, and then added, at a reproving glance
from Gowrie's eye, "for he will not go again, I judge, without
exacting more than we can well spare."
Gowrie took no public notice of his words, but led the way to the
door; and after a brief search for hats, and cloaks, and rapiers, the
whole party passed across the court on foot, and through the gates
into the street.
Christie, the porter, with a grave face, held the right hand valve of
the great iron gates open; but as soon as the earl and his friends had
passed through, a sinister smile came upon his lip, and murmuring to
himself--"Now, then," he retired into his room. The instant after,
Austin Jute ran through the gates and followed the earl, but did not
overtake him till he was half way down the street. Then advancing, so
as to be in his master's sight, he doffed his hat, saying, "Have you
anything to command me, my lord?"
Gowrie put his hand to his head, like one almost bewildered, and then
said, "Ay, Austin, ay.--Go on, gentlemen; I follow you. Take horse
directly, Austin," he continued, as soon as the others had passed on;
"speed to Dirleton. You must find your way as best you can. Tell my
mother--tell the dear lady Julia what has happened here. Say that I
cannot be with them to-night, but----"
He paused, and thought for an instant, and then added, "No! I will
make no promises for to-morrow. God, and God only, knows what may be
to-morrow. Do not alarm them, Austin, more than needful. But still,"
he added, solemnly, "do not buoy them up with hopes that may prove
false. Tell them the king comes--tell them I know not why he comes;
and let their own judgment speak the rest. But of all things, let my
mother be upon her guard, and see to the safety of my young brothers.
There's my purse, good fellow, to defray your expenses on the road.
Would there were more in it, for your sake. And now away with all
speed! Here, take my sword; lay it somewhere in the house. The king
shall not say that I wore arms of any kind."
Austin Jute caught the earl's hand and kissed it, as if he felt that
it was the last time he should ever see him. Then, without a word of
reply, but with a glistening eye, he turned from him, sped back to the
Great House, took the horse he usually rode from the stable, and
without farther preparation rode away.
In the meantime, Gowrie rejoined his friends and walked on, the party
every moment being increased by some accession from amongst the
magistrates of the town, or the gentry of the place and neighbourhood.
It had thus been swelled to the number of five or six-and-thirty
persons when it reached the side of the large fine piece of meadow
ground in the Tay, called the South Inch, and in a minute or two
after, the royal cavalcade was seen approaching at a slow and stately
pace. It was remarked, however, aloud, not by the Earl of Gowrie or
any of his friends, but by one of the bailies of the town, that
although they had met many of the Murrays in the streets as they went
along, not one of them had joined the party going to receive and
welcome the king.
"They do not show their loyalty, methinks," said Bailie Roy.
No reply was made aloud, but Hugh Moncrief, a warm-tempered,
plain-spoken man, who had been watching Gowrie's countenance
attentively, muttered between his teeth, "They may show it by and by
with a vengeance, perchance. I know not what they do here; the town is
full of them!"
Neither Gowrie nor his brother Alexander made any observation
whatever, but waited in grave silence till James's horse was within
some fifty yards; and then the young earl advanced with his head
uncovered, saying, "Your majesty is welcome to your good and loyal
town of St. Johnstone; and I only regret that I did not earlier know
of your coming, that a better reception might have been prepared for
your royal grace."
"Oh, we come in no state, my good lord," replied the king. "We love to
take our friends by surprise; and we know that no man in all the realm
will be more willing or better prepared to receive the king than the
Earl of Gowrie. Deed, our poor beasties are very tired, so that our
train has gone spilling itself on the road like an o'erfilled luggie;
but they'll come in by sixes and sevens, no doubt. And now, my lord,
by your good leave, we'll go on and repose ourselves."
Gowrie gave a glance over the king's train at this intimation of its
numbers being likely to increase before night. It consisted of more
than forty persons already; but, without any observation, he merely
bowed his head and walked by the side of the monarch's horse, James
continuing to speak with him in a gay and jocular tone all the way to
the gates of Gowrie House.
As soon as the monarch had entered the court, where some eight or ten
of the earl's servants were drawn up, Alexander Ruthven sprang to hold
the horse's head, while Gowrie himself assisted the king to dismount.
The magistrates of the town were then presented to the monarch in
form, having pressed somewhat closely around; but James, treating the
worthy bailies with somewhat scanty courtesy, cut their compliments
short, and was led by the earl through the great hall into the lesser
dining room, which had been hastily prepared for his reception.
"He's no like a king either in face or tongue," said Bailie Graham, in
a low tone, as he walked away.
"Ay, but it's a graund thing, the royal presence," said Bailie Roy,
aloud, as he retired.
So the town council were divided in opinion.