next morning, after all the inhabitants of the town were astir, the
clarion was sounded, loud and long, as if the city had been upon the
instant to be attacked. The tents were struck; but, in place of an
attack, a retreat was the order of the day, and in the course of an hour
the whole Scottish host were beyond the sight of the inhabitants of
Perth. The intelligence was soon therefore circulated within the city,
that Bruce had given up the siege, and had departed upon some expedition
of less difficulty; and the friends of Edward rejoiced that they were
liberated from so fearful a foe. The communication was received by many
with great rejoicings; and a courier, who arrived that same day from
England, announced that Edward had despatched succours to the city,
which would arrive in the Tay nearly as soon as the messenger would
reach the end of his journey. To Peter of Ghent, this change of
circumstances was the apparent prelude to the honours he expected to be
showered upon his daughter; but Anne herself, dreaming still of her
monoculous knight, and of her anticipated delivery by the champions she
desired so ardently to see, looked forward with fear and trembling to
the sacrifice that seemed to await her. Her watching at the city walls
had been persevered in; but all her care and perspicacity had not
enabled her to perceive the strange act of Bruce in suspending the
ladder before sounding a retreat. The guarding of the walls was in some
degree relaxed, and the inhabitants began again to go forth, and engage
in their avocations. About three days afterwards, the handmaid of the
fair Fleming, who was in the secret of her mistress, informed her that,
as she returned from a meeting near the fortifications with her lover, a
soldier, she had observed the top of a rope-ladder affixed to the lower
bartizan of the west wall; but the girl's information ended with the
announcement of the fact, for her simple mind had suggested no
explanation of the circumstance. But to Anne's quick thought the
communication presented an aspect pregnant of hope; and, having
cautioned the maiden against speaking of what she had seen to any of the
inhabitants, she sallied forth in the light of the moon, and by the
directions of her informant soon came to the spot where the ladder was
suspended. A train of reflections opened up to her the scheme of Bruce,
who had, as she thought, raised the siege, to lull the inhabitants into
a security which he might turn to his advantage. By some bold efforts,
she reached the part of the wall to which the instrument of escalade was
attached, and, in the height of her enthusiasm, she took from her dress
a narrow riband, and bound it to the top of the ropes.
"The design of these bold spirits," she said, "shall not lack the
inspiring gift of a woman to hail, as that favour streameth in the wind,
the success of the cause that giveth freedom to their country. If
Rolande de Leon may not see this, the eyes of Bruce, that are unbound,
may catch a sight of the trophy; and what better evidence may he have
that Anne of Ghent wisheth him triumph?"
After indulging in her short monologue, she retreated from the wall, and
with some difficulty escaped the eyes of some of the neighbouring
guards, as she sought with quick steps the house of her father. As she
entered, Peter of Ghent looked at her as if he would have questioned her
as to where she had been at so late an hour; but his mind was too much
occupied by matters of greater moment.
"Welcome, my love," said he to her, as she sat down by the fire. "I have
been with the governor, who is full of rejoicing at this unexpected
quittance of the Bruce and his host of wolves. The period of the
fulfilment of our condition approaches. The succours of Edward are
expected every hour; and then, Anne, I have a right to claim for thee a
lord, who is worthy of thy beauty and thy goodness."
"The Bruce may return, father," replied Anne. "It is not thus that he
resigns his prey."
"That is nothing to thee or to me, Anne," said Peter, somewhat roused.
"A knighthood will be the more sure to the governor; and I should like
as well to see that honour bestowed on thy husband as on thy betrothed.
Get ready thy marriage-gear, love, and lay aside thy maiden blushes,
which can aid thee as little in capturing a husband, as Bruce's
backwardness in the taking of Perth."
"The governor hath not claimed me, father," replied Anne, hesitatingly.
"He hath not called here since the money was paid to him."
"More still of thy doubtful questionings, wench!" cried Peter, rising in
his anger. "What is his remissness to thee, if I adhere to my condition,
and demand my bond? He is bound by his honour; to-morrow he is to be
here, and thou must show thy fairest qualities in his presence. Go and
assign thee thy appurtenances and paraphernals."
Anne rose silently and left the room; but it was not to obey her father.
Her mind was occupied with meditations on the chances of the return of
Bruce, upon which her safety from the arms of Oliphant, and her hope of
meeting her French knight, depended. Her calculations of the probability
of that event were but the operations of her own unaided mind, and
misgivings, ushering in painful fears, vindicated a place in her
thoughts, and made her alternately the victim of hope and apprehension.
She could not retire to rest, and her devotions before the Holy Virgin
were performed with a fluttering heart, that shook off the holy feelings
with which she was accustomed to kneel before the sacred image. The moon
still shone bright in at the window, and the stillness that reigned
within the house told her that the inmates had retired to rest. She felt
a strong inclination to go forth, and find that relief which is often
experienced by troubled spirits, in the calm beams of the queen of
night; and, wrapping around her a mantle, she obeyed the impulse of her
feelings. A large garden nearly connected the house with a part of the
fortifications; and, having perambulated the open space, she sauntered
along till she came to an embrasure, at which she set herself down, and
fixed her eyes on the surrounding ground, where she had formerly seen a
part of Bruce's besieging forces. She could perceive nothing now but the
wide plain spread forth in the silver light of the moon, and below her
feet the deep fosse which reflected the bright beams from its quiet
surface. The wind was hushed, and an unbroken silence seemed to reign
throughout all nature. A deep train of meditations took possession of
her mind; and the sublimed feelings that were called forth by the still
and solemn silence around her, mixed with and lent an influence to the
thoughts that were ever and anon busy with the hopes that had not yet
forsaken her breast. As she sat thus meditating, she thought she
observed a dark mass of some moving body upon the plain beyond; and, as
she gazed, her attention became more and more fixed upon the
extraordinary appearance.
In a short time, the dense mass became more perceptible, and she could
now distinguish that it was composed of a body of men, whose motion
forward was so noiseless that scarcely a single sound met her ear. There
was a small body somewhat in advance of the rest, and she now saw that
the direction which they held was towards the spot where she had seen
the instrument of escalade fixed to the wall. Rising hurriedly, she
crept along by the covered way, and was surprised to find that her
passage was not interrupted by a single guard, the men having, in
consequence of the fatigue to which they had been exposed for five
weeks, taken advantage of Bruce's retreat, and betaken themselves to
rest. She soon arrived at the spot, and about the same time she observed
that the van she had noticed had also got to that part of the fosse
opposite to where she was now placed. The silence enabled her now to
catch the low tones of the men; and the coruscations of their steel
armour, as the moonbeams played upon it, met her eye. She hesitated a
moment whether she would remain or retreat; for the terrors of a siege
were before her, and her father was in danger; but she felt that her own
freedom from a hated union depended upon the success of the besiegers,
and the workings of an enthusiastic spirit stilled the whisperings of
fear. She bent and listened, for articulate sentences now rose from the
warriors, who stood for a moment on the brink of the fosse. A gigantic
individual, in full mail, stood in the midst of the group, and he could
be no other than Bruce himself, whose height exceeded that of most men
of his day.
"Art ready?" said he, as he held forth his spear, the point of which
glittered in the moonbeams, as he waved it.
"Ay--on, noble king!" was responded by another behind him.
"Come on, then," again said the former, and immediately he dashed into
the water, which seemed to cover his body to the head.
Some of the others appeared to hesitate for a moment.
"What shall we say of our French lords," cried another, in a French
accent, "who live at home in the midst of wassail and jollity, when so
brave a knight is here putting his life in hazard to win a hamlet?" And
he was the second that followed the Bruce.
"Shall a Frenchman, who hath not yet redeemed the sight of his left eye,
bound by a lady's pledge, be the second to mount the wall," was said by
a third, as he rushed forward. In an instant the whole party were in the
water.
Bruce was now on the ladder. He stopped suddenly, and gazed for a moment
at the riband on the top of the escalade. Anne's voice met his ear.
"Come on, come on, brave warriors," she said, in a low tone.
"Who art thou, in Heaven's name?" replied he.
"Anne of Ghent, thy friend. The guard is asleep, and the governor
deemeth thee far away. I claim indemnity in life and limb to Peter of
Ghent."
"Granted, noble damsel, by the sword of Bruce!" was the answer;
"away--away!--to a place of safety."
Anne lost no time in obeying the command. She flew along the covered way
with the quickness of light. In her speed she stumbled on the feet of a
soldier who lay in a recess of the ramparts, and was almost
precipitated to the ground. The man looked up in agitation, and, seeing
that it was a woman, growled out a few incoherent sentences, and again
resigned himself to sleep, from which he might awake only to feel the
sharp steel of a Scotch dagger, as it sought his heart. She paused a
little, to satisfy herself that the man was not sufficiently roused to
hear the sounds of the assailants, and, finding all safe, she sought
hurriedly the dwelling of her father. He was sound asleep when she
entered, and there was no one stirring; but the sounds of horns were now
ringing through the city, and, as she opened the door of his
sleeping-apartment, the clamour roused him. Starting to his feet, he
called out to Anne to know the cause of the disturbance.
"The Bruce is in the act of storming the city, father," she said.
"Then are the dreams of my ambition finished," replied Peter; "and we
shall be the marks for the vengeance of these savages. I have no chance
of escape. My money is gone, and the reward that will be given for it
will be death."
"Fear not, father," said Anne, calmly; "thou art safe."
"Peter of Ghent," replied he, "who hath furnished money for the support
of the city, will be among the first objects of the vengeance of the
Bruce. Ha! I hear already the groans of the dying. Whither shall I fly,
or where shall I conceal myself?"
"Thou canst be safe only in this house," said Anne. "The Bruce hath, by
his sword, pledged his faith to me that Peter of Ghent shall be safe in
life and limb."
"What meaneth the damsel's strange words?" cried the father. "Art thou
mad? Where couldst thou have seen the Bruce?"
"Concern not thyself for that, father," replied she, with the same
unperturbed air. "Thou art safe. The Bruce hath said it."
Peter looked at his daughter in blank wonder; and, as the sounds of
horns, the clashing of swords, and the screams of the dying met his ear,
he trembled and seemed irresolute whether he should repose faith in her
words, or take means for his safety. A loud noise now approached the
house; the door was burst open, and three naked caterans entered the
apartment, with bloodstained swords gleaming in their hands. One of them
rushed forwards, and, seizing Peter, was on the point of thrusting the
weapon into his bosom.
"He is safe by the word of the Bruce," ejaculated Anne, as she rushed
between the soldier and her father.
"His name, then?" cried one of the soldiers behind.
"Peter of Ghent," answered Anne.
The sword of the soldier was dropped in an instant.
"To pe sure he will pe safe if that pe his name," said the man, with a
grim smile. "Te prince has said it. Here, Tuncan, guard this maiden and
her father, while I and Tonald will pe after sending te neebours to
their lang hames."
With these words the two caterans left the house, and joined the other
soldiers who were careering through the city, and slaying every
Anglicised Scot that came in their way. The guard Duncan remained in
Peter's house, and sat with grim majesty, surveying in silence the
terrified Fleming, who was lost in wonder at what he had seen and heard;
for everything appeared to him a mystery. Others of the soldiers burst
at intervals into the house, with the intent to slay the inmates; but
Duncan silenced them all by the watchword, "Peter of Ghent," and at
every demonstration of the charm the worthy burgher seemed more and more
surprised. He questioned Anne as to the meaning of the strange effect of
his name and of the unlooked-for security that it afforded to him who
deserved death more than any one in the city, except the governor
himself. But he got small satisfaction from the maiden, for she felt
that it was impossible for her to explain the part she acted, without
incurring the charge that she had been untrue to the cause of her
father, and the rights of the governor and the king. Neither would
Duncan give him any information but what tended rather to increase the
mystery; for he merely said that it was the command of the Bruce that
Peter of Ghent should be saved from the general massacre, and guarded
safely from the fury of the soldiers by the first man that entered his
house. In the midst of this mystery, a suspicion took possession of him,
that Bruce wished to save him for a more cruel death, after the siege
should be ended; and, notwithstanding of all that Anne could say to him
to calm his fears, he still retained doggedly the apprehension, and
sighed bitterly as he contemplated his expected fate.
"Thou hast given me no reason, girl," he whispered to her, "to satisfy
me that I am not reserved for the heading-block. Bruce hath, of a
verity, heard of the money I lent to the governor, and thou shalt by and
by mourn the death of thy father. But what didst thou mean, Anne, by thy
statement to the soldier, that I was safe by the word of the Bruce? Was
it a device of thy quick fancy to save me from the sword of that man,
who weareth no broadcloth on his body, and whose limbs are, of a
consequence, as hard as his heart?"
"If thou wilt stand by thy pledge, father," answered Anne, "that I shall
not be required to marry Oliphant, now that the city is taken, I will
pledge a simple damsel's word that thou shalt be as safe from the
headsman's falchion as thou art from the broadsword of that wild man,
whose bare limbs terrify me more than the bright steel of the Bruce."
"Of a surety I will stand by my pledge, girl; but I cannot rest
satisfied till I hear thy reason for the confidence thou reposest in the
clemency of the Scottish leader, whose name is a terror to every enemy
of his country."
"Nay, father, I am now trafficking with thee--driving a bargain, as thou
sayest," replied she, with a smile, which the still terrified Fleming
could not for the soul of him understand. "The bargain is concluded, and
I cannot, for my honour, say more, even to my father."
"Tell me, man," cried Peter, to the Highlander, who still stood guarding
the door, with the drawn sword in his hand--"tell me, since my daughter
will not, what the Bruce intendeth to do with Peter of Ghent, whose name
hath operated as a charm on thy ear?"
"Hoigh, hoigh, man!" replied Duncan; "ye'll pe trying to get secrets oot
o' Tuncan Thu Mohr."
"I will give thee money, my brave preserver," rejoined Peter, as he ran
forward. "Let me escape, and I will reward thee with ten nobles. Here
they are--see, see--it is meet thou shouldst have them, seeing thou wilt
get no share of the spoils of the city."
"Keep him securely," whispered Anne, in the ear of the Highlander, "and
I will reward thee better on the morrow."
"Thou art mad, Anne. What means the rebellious wench?" cried Peter,
angrily. "Thou hast become a trafficker with the enemies of thy father.
Henceforth I have no faith in thee. Wilt thou not let me free, good
Master Mohr?"
Duncan turned, and looked knowingly at Anne, who, he probably thought,
was wishing to torment the old merchant.
"To pe surely, she will pe keeping her prisoner," said he, in aid of the
imputed design of the fair accomplice, and with a twinkle in his eye.
"Te auld merchant's head will pe worth more than te ten nobles, she will
pe thinking."
"Dost thou not hear, Anne, that I am, as I suspected, doomed to lay my
head on the block?" cried Peter again. "Thou hast apparently some power
over the savage," he added, in a whisper; "aid me in bribing him, and
we may yet escape to Flanders, with my wealth, otherwise thou wilt lose
thy dowery, and I my head."
"I have told thee that thou art safe, and thou wilt not listen to me,"
replied she. "Thou oughtst to be thankful for thy condition. Hearest
thou not the groans of the dying citizens amidst the loud clang of arms?
Thousands are now dying, and thou hast a royal guard to save thee from
harm; yet art thou grumbling at thy fate!"
During all this time, the work of destruction had been going on in all
parts of the city. Bruce was well aware that the great evil he had to
cure could only be overcome by extreme measures, and the better feelings
of his nature had for a time given place to the thirst for vengeance for
the many wrongs he had suffered from the tyrants, who had not only
ruined the country, but stained his domestic hearth with the cruelties
of persecution. He gave orders, on entering the city, that every Soot
that had favoured Edward should die; and his command was but too
literally obeyed--thousands on that night felt, in the pangs of death,
the effects of his dreadful retaliation. When the day dawned, he
collected his captains in the court hall of the city, for the purpose of
issuing ordinances of confiscation, settling the terms on which the city
should in future be held, and passing sentence on the governor, who had
been taken alive, and stood in the hall bound in chains. Bruce sat in
the chair of office, his captains were ranged around him, and by his
left side sat two of the French squires already spoken of, who had
trusted to the events of that siege for getting the leave of the bravest
knights of these times to remove the bandages from their left eyes, and
be declared entitled to the rights and honours of chivalry. The scene
presented one of the most extraordinary aspects of these times of war
and bloodshed. Bruce himself had fought hand to hand with the officers
of the garrison, and slain every one who dared to withstand his terrible
onset. His face and hands were covered with blood; his bright armour
was stained; and the sword which he still held in his hand bore
evidence to the work of deadly execution it had done against Scotland's
foes. Sir James Douglas, Randolph, and others of the fiercest of his
captains, bore the same grim aspect; and the French squires exhibited by
their gore-stained shields that they merited the reward for which they
looked, from the honour-dispensing sword of the king.
At a table before the king, there sat a man habited as a clerk, with a
black cloak over his shoulders, and a small felt cap, that covered the
crown of his head. He was busy calling forth the names of the
inhabitants who had adhered to the cause of Edward; and, as he repeated
them, the king awarded his fiat of confiscation of the effects of the
individuals. As the man proceeded, he came to the name of Peter of
Ghent, and Bruce paused. The recollections of Anne and her father had
been, by the turmoils of the siege, for some time absent from his mind;
but now his face glowed as the adventure of the preceding night flashed
upon him, and the heroic conduct of the maiden was appreciated in the
triumph he was now enjoying. He thought for a moment, and remembered
that it was she who was to have been wedded to the governor. He could
not account for the apparent contradiction between this purpose and the
conduct of the girl in hailing him on to the siege of the city; but his
quick mind at once suggested the solution that she had been hostile to
the match, and that it had been projected merely by her father as a part
of the transactions of the loan that had been given for the support of
the city.
"Let Peter of Ghent and his fair daughter Anne be called to our
presence," cried the king. And in a short time the wealthy Fleming, with
Anne, who was covered with a deep veil, was led forwards in the midst
of the assembled chiefs. It was apparent, from Peter's manner, that he
was still actuated by the fear of punishment, for he trembled and shook
all over, while Anne, looking at him with side-glances from beneath her
veil, seemed to contemplate him with a mixed feeling of pity and
good-humour. Bruce, who was anxious to see the face of the maiden who
had acted so noble and fearless a part, would have requested her to lift
her veil; but the high-bred feelings inculcated by the peculiar formula
of knighthood induced him to wait till he could accomplish the object of
his wish after the legitimate manner of the chevaliers. Turning to the
trembling culprit, he raised his voice to the highest pitch.
"What does that inhabitant of old Scotland deserve," he said, as he
fixed his eyes on Peter, "who giveth his means in aid of rebellion
against his crowned king? Answer us, Peter of Ghent, according to the
estimate thou formest of thine own act, in giving to Mr Oliphant,
governor of our city, the money wherewith he endeavoured to resist our
authority."
Peter was silent, for he was now satisfied that he had been spared to be
reserved for the gallows or the heading-axe.
"Speak, sirrah!" cried the Bruce, assuming a more stern tone of
authority.
"What it meriteth in the mind of Scotland's lawful king," replied Peter,
at length; "but spare the old father for the sake of his child, and what
is left of my substance shall go to support the crown, which a king's
leniency to repentant subjects renders the more lustrous."
"Flattery is no atonement for rebellion," thundered out Bruce.
"God have mercy upon me!" cried Peter of Ghent. "Thou knowest, my liege,
that I had no power to resist the command of the governor, when he
demanded of me a thousand nobles; nor could I resist thy higher
authority, wert thou to ask of me to lay another thousand at this moment
at thy royal feet."
"Thou wouldst now even bargain for thy head, as thou didst for the
marriage of thy fair daughter," cried Bruce. "Is it not true, sir, that
thou didst sell the maiden to the traitor Oliphant?"
"It is even true that I did make it a condition of the advance of the
thousand nobles, that he should fulfil the intentions he had manifested
towards my daughter; yet I was not the less necessitated to give the
money, seeing it would have been taken from me otherwise."
"Then what does the man merit who sells his daughter for the liberties
of the country by whose industry and means he liveth?" replied the king.
"I put it to the nobles here assembled."
"The heading-block--the heading-block," resounded in hoarse groans
through the hall.
"Will she not yet throw off her veil?" muttered the king, as he cast his
eyes on Anne.
"Lead Peter of Ghent to the block," he cried aloud.
Anne threw back her veil, and, with her face uncovered, cast herself at
the feet of Bruce. The assembled lords fixed their eyes upon the damsel,
as she occupied a position which exhibited the graces of her perfect
figure, and the intelligence of her beautiful face lighted up with
feelings which moved the hearts of the sternest warriors around. They
were struck with the full blaze of a beauty that was not excelled by the
fairest woman of Scotland in her day, and whispers went round among them
that told eloquently the effect she had produced by the sudden display
of her charms.
"Is this the reward, my liege," she said, in a clear, tuneful voice,
"that is due to me for my humble efforts in behalf of the success of
thine arms? Is this the faith of the Brace, whose name has filled the
nations as the trumpet resounds within the palisades when honour is to
be sought and won?"
A smile played upon the face of the king. The quick, dark eye of the
maiden searched his heart, and was satisfied. A mantling blush,
accompanied by a smile that seemed to respond to the humour of the king,
enhanced her beauty, and showed that she understood the play that was
enacted by the noble monarch.
"It is the privilege of beauty," said the king, still smiling, "to
inspire its possessor with an unshaken faith in the sanctions of the
brave. We are not oblivious, fair Anne of Ghent, of our promise, as this
will testify." And he undid her own riband from his arm, and put it
around the neck of the supplicant. "The colour of this streamer shall
afterwards be that of the banner of Perth. Thy father is safe in life
and limb; but tell us, fair damsel, what other method could we have
adopted, to gratify our sense of justice and our love of beauty, than
to show thy father that he owes his safety to thee, and to make thee
throw off the veil that concealeth so fair a face?"
At this moment, one of the French squires, with his left eye bound up by
a green riband, advanced to the feet of the king, and stood for a moment
surveying the countenance of the supplicant.
"By the patron saint of the house of Leon," cried the Frenchman, "it is
my fair queen of the lists! Knowest thou this silken band, lady, by
which my left orb is occluded, and my affections bound to the giver?"
"If thou art Rolande de Leon," said Anne, as she rose, by the hand of
the king, "thou canst tell if that gift was bestowed by my hands. To
that valiant squire, Anne of Ghent did once award the humble pledge of a
silken band, which was to remain on his temples till he achieved a feat
of arms."