THE GABERLUNZIE MAN
The next morning the Chancellor came down early from his chamber, and
finding Earl Douglas already waiting in the courtyard, he rubbed his
hands and called out cheerfully: "We shall be more lonely to-day, but
perhaps even more gay. For there are many things men delight in which
even the fairest ladies care not for, fearing mayhap some invasion of
their dominions."
"What mean you, my Lord Chancellor?" said the Douglas to his host,
eagerly scanning the upper windows meanwhile.
"I mean," said the Chancellor, fawningly, "that his Excellency, the
ambassador of France, hath ridden away under cloud of night, and hath
taken his fair ward with him."
The Earl turned pale and stood glowering at the obsequious Chancellor
as if unable to comprehend the purport of his words. At last he
commanded himself sufficiently to speak.
"Was this resolution sudden, or did the Lady Sybilla know of it
yesternight?"
"Nay, of a surety it was quite sudden," replied the Chancellor. "A
message arrived from the Queen Mother to the Marshal de Retz
requesting an immediate meeting on business of state, whereupon I
offered my Castle of Edinburgh for the purpose as being more
convenient than Stirling. So I doubt not that they are all met there,
the young King being of the party. It is, indeed, a quaint falling
out, for of late, as you may have heard, the Tutor and the Queen have
scarce been of the number of my intimates."
The Earl of Douglas appeared strangely disturbed. He paid no further
attention to his host, but strode to and fro in the courtyard with his
thumbs in his belt, in an attitude of the deepest meditation.
The Chancellor watched him from under his eyebrows with alternate
apprehension and satisfaction, like a timid hunter who sees the lion
half in and half out of the snare.
"I have a letter for you, my Lord Douglas," he said, after a long
pause.
"Ah," cried Douglas, with obvious relief, "why did you not tell me so
at first. Pray give it me."
"I knew not whether it might afford you pleasure or no," answered the
Chancellor.
"Give it me!" cried Douglas, imperiously, as though he spoke to an
underling.
Sir William Crichton drew a square parcel from beneath his long-furred
gown, and handed it to William Douglas, who, without stepping back,
instantly broke the seal.
"Pshaw," cried he, contemptuously, "it is from the Queen Mother and
Alexander Livingston!"
He thought it had been from another, and his disappointment was
written clear upon his face.
"Even so," said the Chancellor, suavely; "it was delivered by the same
servant who brought the message which called away the ambassador and
his companion."
The Earl read it from beginning to end. After the customary greetings
and good wishes the letter ran as follows:
"The King greatly desires to see his noble cousin of Douglas
at the castle of Edinburgh, presently put at his Majesty's
disposal by the High Chancellor of Scotland. Here in this
place are now assembled all the men who desire the peace and
assured prosperity of the realm, saving the greatest of all,
my Lord and kinsman of Douglas. The King sends affectionate
greeting to his cousin, and desires that he also may come
thither, that the ambassador of France may carry back to his
master a favourable report of the unity and kindly
governance of the kingdom during his minority."
The Chancellor watched the Earl as he read this letter. To one more
suspicious than William Douglas it would have been clear that he was
himself perfectly acquainted with the contents.
"I am bidden meet the King at the Castle of Edinburgh," said Douglas;
"I will set out at once."
"Nay, my lord," said Crichton, "not this day, at least. Stay and hunt
the stag on the braes of Borthwick. My huntsmen have marked down a
swift and noble buck. To-morrow to Edinburgh an you will!"
"I thank you, Sir William," the Douglas answered, curtly enough; "but
the command is peremptory. I must ride to Edinburgh this very day."
"I pray you remember that Edinburgh is a turbulent city and little
inclined to love your great house. Is it, think you, wise to go
thither with so small a retinue?"
The Earl waved his hand carelessly.
"I am not afraid," he said; "besides, what harm can befall when I
lodge in the castle of the Lord Chancellor of Scotland?"
Crichton bowed very low.
"What harm, indeed?" he said; "I did but advise your lordship to
bethink himself. I am an old man, pray remember--fast growing feeble
and naturally inclined to overmuch caution. But the blood flows hot
through the veins of eighteen."
Sholto, who knew nothing of these happenings, had just finished
exercising his men on the smooth green in front of the Castle of
Crichton, and had dismissed them, when a gaberlunzie or privileged
beggar, a long lank rascal with a mat of tangled hair, and clad in a
cast-off leathern suit which erstwhile some knight had worn under his
mail, leaped suddenly from the shelter of a hedge. Instinctively
Sholto laid his hand on his dagger.
"Nay," snuffled the fellow, "I come peaceably. As you love your lord
hasten to give him this letter. And, above all, let not the Crichton
see you."
He placed a small square scrap of parchment in Sholto's hand. It was
sealed in black wax with a serpent's head, and from the condition of
the outside had evidently been in places both greasy and grimy. Sholto
put it in his leathern pouch wherein he was used to keep the hone for
sharpening his arrows, and bestowed a silver groat upon the beggar.
"Thy master's life is surely worth more than a groat," said the man.
"I warrant you have been well enough paid already," said Sholto, "that
is, if this be not a deceit. But here is a shilling. On your head be
it, if you are playing with Sholto MacKim!"
So saying the captain of the guard strode within. He had already
acquired the carriage and consequence of a veteran old in the wars.
His master was still pacing up and down the courtyard, deep in
meditation. Sholto saluted the young Earl and asked permission to
speak a word with him.
"Speak on, Sholto--well do you know that at all times you may say what
you will to me."
"But this I desire to keep from prying eyes. My lord, there is a
letter in my wallet which was given me even now by a gaberlunzie man.
He declares that it concerns your life. I pray you take out my hone
stone as if to look at it, and with it the letter."
The Earl nodded, as if Sholto had been making a report to him. Then he
went nearer and began to finger his squire's accoutrements, finally
opening his belt pouch and taking out the stone that was therein.
"Where gat you this hone!" he said, holding it to the light; "it looks
not the right blue for a Water-of-Ayr stone."
Sholto answered that it came from the Parton Hills, and, as the Earl
replaced it, he possessed himself of the square letter and thrust it
into the bosom of his doublet.
As soon as William Douglas was alone, he broke the seal and tore open
the parchment. It was written in a delicate foreign script, the
characters fine and small:
"My lord, do not, I beseech you, come to Edinburgh or think
of me more. Last night my Lord of Retz spied upon us and
this morning he hath carried me off. Wherever you are when
you receive this, turn instantly and ride with all speed to
one of your strong castles. As you love me, go! We can never
hope to see one another again. Forget an unfortunate girl
who can never forget you."
There was no signature saving the impression of the joined serpents'
heads, which he remembered as the signet of the ring he had found and
given back to her on the day of the tournament.
"I will never give her up. I must see her," cried the Earl of Douglas,
"and this very day. Aye, and though I were to die for it on the
morrow, see her I will!"