TEN RED GRAINS.
"Yes! in an hour like this, 'twere vain to hide
The heart so long and so severely tried:
Still to thy name that heart hath fondly thrilled,
But sterner duties called and were fulfilled."
MRS. HEMANS.
Prior to his departure for Balmerino, and immediately on his leaving
the palace, the learned apothegar visited the king's advocate.
The town house of Sir Adam Otterburn, the Redhall Lodging, as it was
named and as we have before stated, stood upon the south side of the
Canongate, and near to the eastern end thereof.
At the present day the south side of this venerable street, the
memories of which go back to the days of St. David I., and the
glories of Earl Randolph and Ramsay of Dalhousie, is still somewhat
straggling, irregular, and open; in 1537 it was much more so. The
houses were then detached, surrounded by gardens, and even parks; for
there were several barnyards in the Canongate, some of which were
destroyed by cannonading during the siege of 1573.
The severe plagues of 1514 and 1520, which followed the slaughter of
Flodden, swept away many of the citizens, whose houses were
demolished to remove all chance of lingering infection; thus the
mansion of Redhall was remarkably solitary. A ruined and desolate
barn-yard lay to the westward; and a grass park, shaded by many
beautiful sycamores, extended on the east nearly to the foot of the
alley known as the Horsewynd.
It was a strong square five-storied house, with walls of enormous
thickness; its crow-stepped gable and one vast chimney studded with
oyster-shells faced the street; at each corner was a square corbelled
turret, from the tops of which, in wet weather, two stone spouts
disgorged the rain-water without mercy on the passengers. To the
street, the windows were few, small, and, according to the Scottish
custom, secured with rusty iron gratings. The first and second
stories were vaulted with solid stone, and stone slabs covered the
roof. Externally the edifice was destitute of ornament; but, strong
as rock, it would have withstood a salvo of cannon-balls; and was one
of the most perfect specimens of the old Scottish house existing,
before the introduction of the more florid French style. Studded
with iron, the small door was deeply recessed in the wall, and
protected by four loopholes, splayed without and within, to admit of
a wide range for arrows or arquebuses; while it was further secured
by a tranverse beam of oak, which superseded all necessity for locks
or bolts.
A fortnight had now elapsed since the night on which the earl and his
sister had been carried off; yet in all that time Redhall had been
totally incapable of prosecuting his schemes either of love or
vengeance; for that _fortunate_ sword-thrust which he had received
from the hand of Vipont, together with the fever produced by his own
furious and boiling passions, had bound him down to a sick bed, from
which, however, by the care or quackery of the learned John of
Silvermills, he was now fast recovering.
Pale, careworn, and feverish in aspect, a day in the beginning of
June saw him again seated at his writing-table, immersed in his
masses of correspondence, his mysterious portfolios, which were full
of strange memorandums in ciphers and Latin contractions, which none
could read, save himself and the cardinal. His trusty rascal,
Birrel, who was always at hand, and ready for everything, from
cleaning his master's boots to cleaving his enemies' heads with a
Jethart staff, was in attendance as usual, when our acquaintance of
the preceding chapter was announced, and Birrel, starting from Sir
Adam's chair, where he had been in close confab, drew back the arras.
"God save you, Sir Adam Otterburn," said the learned John, stroking
his long beard according to his invariable custom; "how--again at thy
pen, despite mine earnest injunction?"
"Business of the State--fiend take it! I must attend now, for a
mountain of matter hath accumulated here."
"Ah," said the physician, setting down his sand-glass and fixing his
keen eyes thereon, while his bony fingers were applied to the pulse
of Redhall's left hand--"Ah! thy pulse is very irregular--thy nerves
are burning. Now, nothing affects the nerves so much as intense
thought, and by thine eyes I see thou hast been thinking intensely.
By this, the vital motions are hurt, the functions disordered, the
whole frame unhinged. Thou must continue to take my potion night and
morning."
"What! more of thy diabolical drench?"
"How, Sir Adam! Dost thou so defame my prescription, which I have
compounded from the identical recipe left by that worshipful clerk,
John of Gaddesden, the worthy author of the 'Rosa Anglica,' the
possessor of that valuable necklace which when drawn tight cured all
manner of fits."
"Ah, my friend, Sanders Screw hath another which doth the very same."
"Indeed! thou amazest me," said the physician, resting his bearded
chin on his staff. "John of Gaddesden's collar was an anodyne
necklace, and had the word _abracadabra_ written thereon."
"But the collar of Carle Sanders is only a stout cord," said the
advocate, with a sardonic grin.
"I blush, Sir Adam, that thou shouldst name this vile worm in the
same breath with John of Gaddesden," said the physician, indignantly,
as he arose and grasped his sand-glass; "a man whose virtues shone
bright as the rays of Acarnan--the star of Eridanus. Ah! he was a
fortunate man, that John of Gaddesden; he was born when Astroarch,
queen of the planets, was shining in all her glory in Abdevinam--the
head of the twelfth mansion; while I, unhappy! was born, as I have
discovered by the aid of my new astrolabe, on a night of storms."
"Thou hast brought back my poniard, I hope?"
"It is here," replied the visitor, taking a dagger from his belt;
"the _contents_ of this cause death within two hours after they are
taken."
"Two hours?"
"He who imbibes them," he continued, in a low voice, "falleth down
senseless, lifeless, and dies without a groan--suddenly as if shot
with a hand-gun. Sir Michael Scott had this secret of a learned
clerk at Salamanca, whither he rode in one night, and ere daybreak
was again at his castle of Balwearie."
"There is a powder, too--zounds! I had well nigh forgot it: 'the
sleeping powder.'"
"'Tis here," replied the physician, taking a packet from the pocket
that hung at his girdle; "this was first prepared for a caliph of the
East, by Geber, the learned Arabian astrologer, who flourished in the
eighth century, and whose three works on chemistry were published at
Strasbourg seventeen years ago, that is, in 1520."
"Hand it hither: thou weariest me; for, by St. Grisel! all thy messes
seem to be compounded by devils and philosophers."
"Thou still appliest my _Unguentum Armarium_?"
"Regularly," replied the advocate, resuming impatiently the writing
at which he had been interrupted.
"And thy wound?"
"Is almost closed, thank God!"
"Good--good," muttered the physician to himself; "I knew well that my
ointment, compounded of the ashes of that written charm, brayed with
those of the dried Zusalzef of the Arabians, would cure the deadliest
wound; 'tis a potent fruit, for it ripens in the sun, and the sun
acts upon the heart, the source of life."
"I would fain see some of this wonderful fruit."
"I have one in my pouch--behold!"
"'S life! 'tis but a common prune!"
"The _prune_ of the unlettered is the _Zusalzef_ of Geber and
Paracelsus; but farewell, Sir Adam, I go; and omit not to continue
the potion and the _Unguentum Armarium_."
"Devil go with thee for a plague," muttered the advocate, as he
seemingly bowed with courtesy, and became again immersed in his
writing.
Nichol Birrel again approached.
"And this was all thou hadst to tell me?" said Redhall; "that no
tidings had arrived from Douglasdale; and that, in short, neither
Vipont nor young Balquhan had come to blows with any of the Douglas
faction."
"Exactly sae, my lord."
"And that they spent their time in hunting and hawking, with free
inquartering for horse and man, wherever it pleased them to halt."
"Just sae," replied Birrel, with an obsequious nod.
"Thou knowest the lands of my kinsman, Fleming of the Cairntable,
whose bounds they are approaching?"
"Yes, my lord."
"Then take a good horse, and ride for your life and death; and take
with thee these three-hundred groats of the fleur-de-lys to pay thy
way. Tell my kinsman Fleming, that I wish this viper, this Vipont I
mean, should take up his last abode in Douglasdale."
"In the kirkyard thereof?"
"Yes, yes; set them by the ears if thou canst; I will see Fleming
skaithless, even though he resists the royal banner; but either by
fair means or foul, keep Vipont from returning here. Dost thou see
this poniard which the apothegar hath just left? observe me, and
observe narrowly."
He unscrewed the pommel, and showed Birrel that the steel knob, which
was hollow, contained several large red grains.
"Each of these grains," said he, carefully rescrewing it, "is a human
life; there are _ten_, and Sir Roland Vipont hath but one life; take
it in thy belt to Douglasdale, for they may prove useful if the blade
fails. One word ere thou goest: how is the Lady Seton this morning?"
"Composed and quiet, as weel she may be, after the girning and
graning of a fortnight."
"Tib, thy niece, Tib Trotter, from Redhall, still attends her with
care, and Dobbie keeps watch?"
"Like a deerhound, my lord; and I forewarned Tib that the lady she
was to attend was a puir demented and brain-braised creature, that
would tell her a' kind o' queer stories about you, Sir Adam--stories
o' whilk, on peril of her life, she was to tak nae heed; and I said
that death would be as nothing to her doom, if the daft lady (whom I
call a kins-woman of your ain, frae the north countrie) fled; and as
puir Tib is mair frightened for you than for the devil himself, she
scarcely sleeps for fear that her charge escapes."
"And Dobbie?"
"Considers her a State prisoner awaiting a private precognition."
"Good--I will ere long requit this trust, and amply too; meantime,
away thou for Douglasdale: remember all my instructions; and now give
me thy thumb on them, that thou wilt be for ever my firm man and
true."
"Sir Adam! Sir Adam!" said the pricker, presenting his thumb
reproachfully, "surely this was na' needed frae me."
But the cautious baron ratified their despicable compact by that
mysterious pressure of thumbs, without which no bargain in Scotland,
either for good or for evil, was ever held binding.*
* See Note.
During this conversation, Redhall had never ceased writing with the
utmost rapidity, that he might lose no time; but the moment Birrel
retired to prepare for his embassy, he closed his portfolio, and
stepped into the little dressing closet which opened off the study or
library.
He examined his face with scrupulous accuracy, and a foppishness at
which he smiled, as if in contempt of himself. With some concern he
observed, that confinement and his wound had rendered his features
paler and more haggard than ever. That wound! Every time he thought
of it, and of the blood, the pain, and anxiety it had cost him, he
ground his teeth vengefully; but after arranging his long dark hair,
and carefully pointing and perfuming his handsome beard and
moustaches, he concluded there were many worse looking men in the
city. Although his nether man was cased in sad-coloured hosen, he
put on a full-skirted doublet of blue velvet, with loose hanging
sleeves and a broad rolling collar of ermine; he wore diamond-studded
ruffs at his wrists, a vest with sleeves of cloth-of-gold, and the
collar of his shirt, which was pinched and embroidered with red silk
and gold thread, was spread over the ermine. His sword was sheathed
in crimson velvet, his poniard sparkled with jewels, and he was
perfumed to excess, for it was the fashion of age.
Tall and stately, pale and dark, his aspect was alike magnificent and
impressive; as thus deliberately prepared with a foppery of which he
could not have believed himself capable, he took his way for the
first time toward the chamber of his fair prisoner.
He felt that his step was feeble as he walked; the room swam around
him; and ever and anon an admonitory twinge shot through his wounded
shoulder.