CHAPTER XLVIII.

THE CROSS AND GILLSTOUP.

"But the curtain of twilight o'ershadows the shore,

And deepens the tint on the blue Lammermuir;

The tints on Corstorphine have paled in their fire,

But sunset still lingers with gold on its spire;

The Roseberry forests are hooded in grey,

And night, like his heir, treads impatient on day--

And now, gentle stranger, if such be thy mood,

Go welcome the moonlight in sweet Holyrood."

On the night, with which our last chapters have been chiefly

occupied, at the identical time when Father St. Bernard was

concerting with the cardinal, anent procuring a pardon for Lady Jane,

two other kind friends were elsewhere concerting the escape of her

lover--but planning it like soldiers, by escalade and at point of the

sword.

In the course of the present history we have, more than once,

referred to a certain flourishing tavern, named _The Cross and

Gillstoup_, which, in those days, displayed its signboard to the

public eye on the south side of the then somewhat suburban street,

the Canongate.

Though the host of this establishment was vitally interested in the

freedom of the master of king James's ordnance, in so far that he

owed him the sum of thirty crowns for wine, it was not deemed

advisable to take him into the conspiracy. In a little chamber of

this tavern, vaulted, like all the first stories in old Edinburgh,

having a sanded floor, a plain wooden table, and fir chairs of

capacious dimensions, a little figure of the Madonna in a corner,

beneath which was a begging-box, belonging to the Franciscans,

inscribed, "Help ye puir, as ye wald God dit you," sat Sir John

Forrester, captain of the king's arquebusiers, and Leslie of

Balquhan, his lieutenant; though it was past the hour of nine, when,

by the laws of James I., no man was to be found in a tavern after

that hour rang from the burgh bell, under a penalty of warding in the

Tolbooth, or paying "the king's chamberlane fiyftie schillinges."

Being gentlemen, and moreover officers of the guard, these two

cavaliers considered themselves above such vulgar rules, and were

quietly sitting down to supper. Their bonnets and mantles, their

unbuckled swords and daggers, lay on a side bench; each had a knife

and platter of delft ware, with a silver-rimmed drinking-horn, before

him; and between them stood a savoury powt pie, with a great pewter

jug of wine, the said pewter jug being polished to the brightness of

a mirror; and Leslie used it as such, to point up his moustaches; for

the hostess of _The Cross and Gillstoup_ prided herself particularly

on the brightness of her pots and kettles--and then, be it

remembered, pewter was a luxury.

Seated at another table in the background, but helped liberally from

the before-mentioned powt pie and the gallant pewter jug, old

Lintstock, the ex-cannonier, with his steel cap and Jedwood axe laid

beside him, his white hair glistening in the light of three long

candles, and his eye looking very fierce and red, was eating his

supper with a stern and disconsolate but nevertheless very determined

aspect; for he had thoroughly resolved on doing something desperate,

though he had not exactly made up his mind as to what that desperate

thing should be. Ever since his master's arrest the forlorn old

soldier had been protected by Sir John Forrester, who remarked, as

they proceeded to supper--

"A whole day has passed, and yet, Leslie, we have resolved on

nothing; and now our resolutions must needs be sharp and sure, for

high and overstrained in their newfangled notions of civil authority,

the abbot Mylne and Redhall will come swoop down like a pair of

ravenous hawks on poor Vipont, for his escapade on that devilish day

of Lady Jane's trial."

"I am aware of that."

"Then why did you not come sooner?"

"Sooner? Why, Sir John, I have never had time to cross myself

to-day."

"Busy--thou?"

"Oh, I had a score of matters to attend to. First, I had to buy me a

pot of rouge at the Tron for Madame de Montreuil, who complains that

her complexion hath gone since the late queen's death; then I had to

escort the Countess of Glencairn and little Mademoiselle de Brissac,

who must needs go on a pilgrimage to the chapel of St. James; then I

had to get a pint of wine at Leith to refresh me; then I had to write

a song for Marion Logan, and to ride to John of the Silvermills,

anent some matters for bonny Alison Hume."

"I knew not that she was ailing."

"Nay, 'twas only to get some almond paste for her dainty hands, and

oil of roses for her hair."

"Plague on thee and them! Canst think of such cursed trifles when

our best friends are in such deadly peril?"

"Now really, Corstorphine," said Leslie, as he spread the white linen

serviette over his red satin trunk breeches; "is the whole world to

stand still because Roland Vipont is laid by the heels? Or dost thou

think that the king will bring to death, or even to trial, so brave a

fellow as our captain of his ordnance?"

"The devil! thou talkest as if brave fellows were scarce in Scotland.

But the Lady Seton, her chances of life----"

"Are small indeed; but let us only have our Vipont free of

Cranstoun-Riddel, on horseback beside us, with his helmet on, and his

sword drawn, and we shall carry the lady off in face of all

Edinburgh! What care we for the burgher guard, or the lances of the

provost!"

"The king----"

"Will love a deed so bold, and so much after his own heart."

"If we were to fail?"

"'Tis but dying like bold fellows in our corslets."

"Thy hand, my brave Leslie, for thou art an honour to thy name,"

replied Sir John Forrester, with admiration.

"Poor Marion Logan has quite spoiled her fine eyes by crying for

three days and nights consecutively about her friend."

Here something between a sob and a growl proceeded from the corner,

where Lintstock was gulping down his supper and his sorrows together.

"Why, Lintstock, my old Cyclop," said Leslie, "thou art looking grave

as a German lanzknecht. Tuts! cheer up; thy master will soon be out

of David's Tower; and then, let Sir Adam of Redhall look to himself."

"Ay, Balquhan, but let him look well to himself before that cometh to

pass!"

"How, old Tartar! wouldst thou give the king's advocate a sliver with

thine axe?"

"I will hew him to the brisket for having dared to look at my

master's lemane! By St. John! if any man dare look aboon his

rosettes, when passing my master's next lady-love at kirk or

market----"

"Oho!" said Sir John Forrester, hastily; "thou seemest better

acquainted with this matter than most of us. But be wary, carle, thy

head may run under a noose. Some more pie?"

"If it please ye, sir."

"If it pleases thee, rather. Eat well, my old cormorant; for it hath

been a fast with thee since thy master's arrest. Now, Leslie, to

return to what we were talking of. I know of no other means of

procuring admittance to Vipont's prison but in disguise. If Father

St. Bernard would lend me his cassock----"

"Thou art too tall by eight inches. I know my Lady

Cranstoun-Riddel's little tire-woman," said Leslie, winking, and

clanking his gold spurs.

"I' faith! a nice little dame, with black eyes and pretty teeth."

"But a saucy darnstocking, spoiled at court by the pages and archers."

"Through her something might be achieved though."

"Is she particular?"

"Not at all! If she would only conceal me in her room for one

night----"

"Once there, rogue, thou wouldst forget all about poor Vipont, thy

mission, and the coil of stout rope wherewith thou proposest to line

thy trunk breeches."

Here the noise of a window being raised behind them made Leslie turn

his head.

"What is that? Mother of God! what is _that_?" he exclaimed, in

alarm, with his sword half drawn, on seeing a black visage, with

shining eyeballs, a row of sharp white teeth, and two black paws,

appear between the lifted sash and the window-sill.

Forrester started, and Lintstock snatched up his axe.

The head grinned and bowed, and waved its black paws with a grotesque

air of respect and deprecation.

"By my soul! 'tis Lady Ashkirk's ill-omened page!" said the captain,

bursting into a fit of laughter.

"How--the evil spirit, anent which we have heard so much of late?"

"Nay, no evil spirit, but a poor denizen of those countries which lie

beneath the sun. Sir Robert Barton, the admiral, swears they are

half men and half marmosets; but Father St. Bernard told me they were

the descendants of Cain. I am not afraid of it--nay, not I," said

the tall knight of Corstorphine, as he drew on his military gloves,

and--but not without some repugnance--seized the hands of Sabrino,

and drew him into the room.

The poor black boy, whose aspect was now deplorable, fell on his

knees, and poured forth his thanks in frightful mutterings, that

seemed to come from the bottom of his throat, and lolled out the

fragment of his tongue in a way that produced a striking effect on

old Lintstock, and, to say the least of it, was very unearthly. The

old cannonier clenched his axe in one hand, his wine-pot in the

other, and recoiled as from a snake.

"Lintstock," said Forrester, "thou hast seen this creature before;

dost understand its gibberish?"

"It is thanking you, as I think, sir; but it looks gey wolfish-like

at the last of the powt pie."

"Right, Lintstock," said Leslie, placing the dish before Sabrino.

The famished negro gave him a glance of intense thankfulness, and

straightway plunged his black fingers into the pie, of which he ate

voraciously.

After the night of the earl's adventure on the island, of the

countess's baffled flight, the duel with Sir James Hamilton, and of

Ashkirk's disappearance with Sybil in the boat, Sabrino, who had

escaped all the arquebuse shots by ducking in the water and clinging

to the weed-covered rocks, next day found himself under dangerous

circumstances, for the cavern which had formed his hiding-place being

now discovered and searched, he had no longer any place of

concealment; thus hunger and the danger of death made him resolve to

put in practice a plan he had frequently conceived, but had not yet

dared to execute.

At certain periods a large boat came regularly from Leith in the

morning with provisions for the garrison, and generally returned in

the evening. An opportunity soon occurred, and Sabrino, diving under

the counter of this barge at the very moment it left the creek of the

Inch, lashed himself (with a fragment of rope) to the iron pintles

which fastened the rudder to the sternpost. In the summer atmosphere

of a warm July, the water of the majestic Forth was calm and warm,

and the motion was pleasant and easy as the oarsmen shot their

lightened boat across its broad and glassy surface, on which the

setting sun was shining. Though half choked at times by the salt

spray that flew from the oars, beneath the counter, where he hung,

Sabrino, with unflinching resolution, endured the danger of being

towed for three miles, and was glad to find that the dusk had fairly

set in before the boat was moored to the old wooden pier which then

terminated the ancient harbour under the rampart of the round tower.

Poor Sabrino knew that all the white men feared and hated him; but he

knew not that he was regarded as little less than the devil

himself--for such he had been considered and declared to be by the

wise and learned of the College of Justice. Avoiding every person,

he had the sense to thread his way into the city by some secret

passage, and went straight to the mansion of the Ashkirk family. It

was silent and deserted, for the spiders were already spinning their

cobwebs on the lock of its iron gate. Failing also to find Sir

Roland Vipont, and fearing to encounter others, the unhappy mute had

instinctively sought the tavern, where in palmier and more privileged

days he had so frequently brought him messages from his mistress.

Sabrino knew well the approaches to the place, and entering the Horse

Wynd, cleared at a bound the wall of the kail-yard, and, reaching the

window of the old familiar room, obtained egress,--not from Roland

Vipont, as he had expected, but by the assistance of Sir John

Forrester, as we have just related.

"Drink," said that frank and stately soldier, handing to the wet,

weary, and famished being a cup of wine, when he had eaten to his

satisfaction; "but now, what in the fiend's name shall we do with

thee? I would not for all my mains and mills at Corstorphine thou

wert found by Redhall living under my protection; and yet 'twere a

foul shame to drive thee forth, the more so as all men's hands and

voices are against thee."

Sabrino understood Sir John, and hung his head sorrowfully.

"Nay, poor devil," he added, kindly, "thou shalt byde with me, and I

bite my glove at all who dare say nay."

"Could we not paint him, or dye him, or scrub him well with hot

water, so that, in colour, at least, he might be like other men?"

"We shall see," replied the captain of the arquebuses; "I will talk

with my old confessor about it--he knows everything. But it hath

such capacious eyes, and such a nose!"

"By Jove! its face is like a Highland buckler!" added the other; and

they paused to regard Sabrino with all the curiosity a new species of

animal would have excited.

"Sir John Forrester," said Lintstock, "I ken weel that this creature

can clamber like a squirrel; and gif we show him the tower wherein my

puir maister girns and granes for his luve and his liberty, I warrant

he'll sune rax to the window, Put a saw between his teeth, a coil o'

stout rope on his back, and I warrant me we shall hae Sir Roland

Vipont beside us in three hours after."

"Thou art right, Lintstock," said Leslie, while Sabrino, on hearing

himself referred to, looked fixedly at the one-eyed gunner; "this

creature's black hide hath brought thy brave master and his fair

mistress into sore trouble, and I know of none who ought to exert his

energies more than he in their service. It is agreed; we shall show

him the rock, the tower, the window, and that by daybreak to-morrow."

Sabrino understood them perfectly, while he gazed at them with the

painful and speechless anxiety which his face depicted at times so

powerfully; and, anxious to express his gratitude, his eyes shone,

while he grinned and nodded, saying--

"Ees--ees--ees!" laid his hands repeatedly on his breast, and placed

the hand of Sir John Forrester on his woolly head, in token that he

was their liege and true man.

At that moment a loud knock was heard at the door.

"Under the table, Sabrino--hide, hide," said Leslie; "I would not for

my helmet full of gold pieces, thou wert seen with us--quick!"

Sabrino dived below the table, and again the knock was heard.

"Who is there without?--come in," said Sir John.

Carrying in his hand his bonnet, which was adorned by a long white

feather, a graceful young man, attired in the most gorgeous and

extreme of the fashion of that age, a doublet of peach-coloured

velvet, sewn with seed pearls, and stiff with silver lace, a Genoese

mantle of blue velvet, and trunks and hose of the palest yellow

satin, appeared.

"My Lord David Lindesay!" said the two officers of the guard, as they

started from their seats.

"A message from the cardinal," said the young lord, who was soon to

become the primate's son-in-law. "His eminence sets out to-morrow

for Falkland Palace, to visit the king, and begs the favour of some

twenty arquebusiers, under your guidance, Laird of Balquhan, as the

roads are neither safe nor sure at this time."

Leslie looked at his captain.

"Half the guard are at Falkland already, under the other lieutenant,

the Laird of Bute," replied Forrester: "but my friend Balquhan will

be at the disposal of his eminence to-morrow with twenty

arquebusiers. At what time do you mount and ride?"

"After morning prayer," said the young lord: "you know how unsafe the

country is around Falkland--for his eminence, at least."

"True; the Kirkaldies of Grange, the Melvilles of Raith, and the

Seatons of Clatto, are no friends of his."

After a few more words of course, and tasting their wine, the heir of

the princely line of Crawford bowed and retired.

"A hundred devils!" said Leslie, as he buckled on his sword. "This

duty will prevent me assisting in the escape of our poor Vipont."

"It matters not, my true Leslie, for I alone will see to that. But

how, a-God's name, am I to get our sable friend conveyed to my

quarters in the palace? If our fat host of the _Cross and Gillstoup_

should see him, all will be over with him."

After some consideration to preclude his being seen, and avoid the

dangerous surmises consequent thereto, it was arranged that Sabrino

should retire in the same manner as he had entered--by the window,

which he immediately did.

Thereafter, having met the captain and lieutenant of the guard at the

low wall which then bordered the west side of the Horse Wynd at the

foot of the Canongate, Leslie muffled him up to the eyes in his

velvet mantle, and he was taken past the guards, pages, &c., into the

inmost court of the palace, where Forrester concealed him in an

apartment, the key of which [Transcriber's note: last line of

paragraph was missing from source scan.]

Jane Seton; or, The King's Advocate: A Scottish Historical Romance · 第 48 / 60 章