The Abbot Page 19

  Chapter the Seventeenth.

  Edina! Scotia's darling seat, All hail thy palaces and towers,Where once, beneath a monarch's feet, Sate legislation's sovereign powers. BURNS.

  "This, then, is Edinburgh?" said the youth, as the fellow-travellersarrived at one of the heights to the southward, which commanded a viewof the great northern capital--"This is that Edinburgh of which we haveheard so much!"

  "Even so," said the falconer; "yonder stands Auld Reekie--you may seethe smoke hover over her at twenty miles' distance, as the gosshawkhangs over a plump of young wild-ducks--ay, yonder is the heart ofScotland, and each throb that she gives is felt from the edge of Solwayto Duncan's-bay-head. See, yonder is the old Castle; and see to theright, on yon rising ground, that is the Castle of Craigmillar, which Ihave known a merry place in my time."

  "Was it not there," said the page in a low voice, "that the Queen heldher court?"

  "Ay, ay," replied the falconer, "Queen she was then, though you must notcall her so now. Well, they may say what they will--many a true heartwill be sad for Mary Stewart, e'en if all be true men say of her; forlook you, Master Roland--she was the loveliest creature to look uponthat I ever saw with eye, and no lady in the land liked better the fairflight of a falcon. I was at the great match on Roslin Moor betwixtBothwell--he was a black sight to her that Bothwell--and the Baronof Roslin, who could judge a hawk's flight as well as any man inScotland--a butt of Rhenish and a ring of gold was the wager, and it wasflown as fairly for as ever was red gold and bright wine. And to seeher there on her white palfrey, that flew as if it scorned to touch morethan the heather blossom; and to hear her voice, as clear and sweet asthe mavis's whistle, mix among our jolly whooping and whistling; and tomark all the nobles dashing round her; happiest he who got a word or alook--tearing through moss and hagg, and venturing neck and limb togain the praise of a bold rider, and the blink of a bonny Queen's brighteye!--she will see little hawking where she lies now--ay, ay, pomp andpleasure pass away as speedily as the wap of a falcon's wing."

  "And where is this poor Queen now confined?" said Roland Graeme,interested in the fate of a woman whose beauty and grace had made sostrong an impression even on the blunt and careless character of AdamWoodcock.

  "Where is she now imprisoned?" said honest Adam; "why, in some castlein the north, they say--I know not where, for my part, nor is it worthwhile to vex one's sell anent what cannot be mended--An she had guidedher power well whilst she had it, she had not come to so evil a pass.Men say she must resign her crown to this little baby of a prince, forthat they will trust her with it no longer. Our master has been as busyas his neighbours in all this work. If the Queen should come to herown again, Avenel Castle is like to smoke for it, unless he makeshis bargain all the better." "In a castle in the north Queen Mary isconfined?" said the page. "Why, ay--they say so, at least--In a castlebeyond that great river which comes down yonder, and looks like a river,but it is a branch of the sea, and as bitter as brine."

  "And amongst all her subjects," said the page, with some emotion, "isthere none that will adventure anything for her relief?"

  "That is a kittle question," said the falconer; "and if you ask itoften, Master Roland, I am fain to tell you that you will be mewed upyourself in some of those castles, if they do not prefer twisting yourhead off, to save farther trouble with you--Adventure any thing? Lord,why, Murray has the wind in his poop now, man, and flies so high andstrong, that the devil a wing of them can match him--No, no; there sheis, and there she must lie, till Heaven send her deliverance, or tillher son has the management of all--But Murray will never let her looseagain, he knows her too well.--And hark thee, we are now bound forHolyrood, where thou wilt find plenty of news, and of courtiers to tellit--But, take my counsel, and keep a calm sough, as the Scots say--hearevery man's counsel, and keep your own. And if you hap to learn anynews you like, leap not up as if you were to put on armour direct in thecause--Our old Mr. Wingate says--and he knows court-cattle well--that ifyou are told old King Coul is come alive again, you should turn it offwith, 'And is he in truth?--I heard not of it,' and should seem no moremoved, than if one told you, by way of novelty, that old King Coul wasdead and buried. Wherefore, look well to your bearing, Master Roland,for, I promise you, you come among a generation that are keen as ahungry hawk--And never be dagger out of sheath at every wry word youhear spoken; for you will find as hot blades as yourself, and then willbe letting of blood without advice either of leech or almanack."

  "You shall see how staid I will be, and how cautious, my good friend,"said Graeme; "but, blessed Lady, what goodly house is that which islying all in ruins so close to the city? Have they been playing at theAbbot of Unreason here, and ended the gambol by burning the church?"

  "There again now," replied his companion, "you go down the wind like awild haggard, that minds neither lure nor beck--that is a question youshould have asked in as low a tone as I shall answer it."

  "If I stay here long," said Roland Graeme, "it is like I shall lose thenatural use of my voice--but what are the ruins then?"

  "The Kirk of Field," said the falconer, in a low and impressive whisper,laying at the same time his finger on his lip; "ask no more aboutit--somebody got foul play, and somebody got the blame of it; and thegame began there which perhaps may not be played out in our time.--PoorHenry Darnley! to be an ass, he understood somewhat of a hawk; butthey sent him on the wing through the air himself one bright moonlightnight."

  The memory of this catastrophe was so recent, that the page averted hiseyes with horror from the scathed ruins in which it had taken place; andthe accusations against the Queen, to which it had given rise, came overhis mind with such strength as to balance the compassion he had begun toentertain for her present forlorn situation.

  It was, indeed, with that agitating state of mind which arises partlyfrom horror, but more from anxious interest and curiosity, that youngGraeme found himself actually traversing the scene of those tremendousevents, the report of which had disturbed the most distant solitudesin Scotland, like the echoes of distant thunder rolling among themountains.

  "Now," he thought, "now or never shall I become a man, and bear my partin those deeds which the simple inhabitants of our hamlets repeat toeach other, as if they were wrought by beings of a superior order totheir own. I will know now, wherefore the Knight of Avenel carries hiscrest so much above those of the neighbouring baronage, and how it isthat men, by valour and wisdom, work their way from the hoddin-graycoat to the cloak of scarlet and gold. Men say I have not much wisdom torecommend me; and if that be true, courage must do it; for I will be aman amongst living men, or a dead corpse amongst the dead."

  From these dreams of ambition he turned his thoughts to those ofpleasure, and began to form many conjectures, when and where he shouldsee Catherine Seyton, and in what manner their acquaintance was to berenewed. With such conjectures he was amusing himself, when he foundthat they had entered the city, and all other feelings were suspendedin the sensation of giddy astonishment with which an inhabitant of thecountry is affected, when, for the first time, he finds himself in thestreets of a large and populous city, a unit in the midst of thousands.

  The principal street of Edinburgh was then, as now, one of the mostspacious in Europe. The extreme height of the houses, and the variety ofGothic gables and battlements, and balconies, by which the sky-line oneach side was crowned and terminated, together with the width of thestreet itself, might have struck with surprise a more practised eye thanthat of young Graeme. The population, close packed within the walls ofthe city, and at this time increased by the number of the lords ofthe King's party who had thronged to Edinburgh to wait upon the RegentMurray, absolutely swarmed like bees on the wide and stately street.Instead of the shop-windows, which are now calculated for the displayof goods, the traders had their open booths projecting on the street,in which, as in the fashion of the modern bazaars, all was exposed whichthey had upon sale. And though the commodities were not of the ri
chestkinds, yet Graeme thought he beheld the wealth of the whole world in thevarious bales of Flanders cloths, and the specimens of tapestry; and,at other places, the display of domestic utensils and pieces of platestruck him with wonder. The sight of cutlers' booths, furnished withswords and poniards, which were manufactured in Scotland, and withpieces of defensive armour, imported from Flanders, added to hissurprise; and, at every step, he found so much to admire and gaze upon,that Adam Woodcock had no little difficulty in prevailing on him toadvance through such a scene of enchantment.

  The sight of the crowds which filled the streets was equally a subjectof wonder. Here a gay lady, in her muffler, or silken veil, traced herway delicately, a gentleman-usher making way for her, a page bearing upher train, and a waiting gentlewoman carrying her Bible, thus intimatingthat her purpose was towards the church--There he might see a group ofcitizens bending the same way, with their short Flemish cloaks, widetrowsers, and high-caped doublets, a fashion to which, as well as totheir bonnet and feather, the Scots were long faithful. Then, again,came the clergyman himself, in his black Geneva cloak and band, lendinga grave and attentive ear to the discourse of several persons whoaccompanied him, and who were doubtless holding serious converse onthe religious subject he was about to treat of. Nor did there lackpassengers of a different class and appearance.

  At every turn, Roland Graeme might see a gallant ruffle along in thenewer or French mode, his doublet slashed, and his points of the samecolours with the lining, his long sword on one side, and his poniard onthe other, behind him a body of stout serving men, proportioned tohis estate and quality, all of whom walked with the air of militaryretainers, and were armed with sword and buckler, the latter being asmall round shield, not unlike the Highland target, having a steelspike in the centre. Two of these parties, each headed by a person ofimportance, chanced to meet in the very centre of the street, or, asit was called, "the crown of the cause-way," a post of honour astenaciously asserted in Scotland, as that of giving or taking the wallused to be in the more southern part of the island. The two leadersbeing of equal rank, and, most probably, either animated by politicaldislike, or by recollection of some feudal enmity, marched close upto each other, without yielding an inch to the right or the left; andneither showing the least purpose of giving way, they stopped for aninstant, and then drew their swords. Their followers imitated theirexample; about a score of weapons at once flashed in the sun, and therewas an immediate clatter of swords and bucklers, while the followers oneither side cried their master's name; the one shouting "Help, a Leslie!a Leslie!" while the others answered with shouts of "Seyton! Seyton!"with the additional punning slogan, "Set on, set on--bear the knaves tothe ground!"

  If the falconer found difficulty in getting the page to go forwardbefore, it was now perfectly impossible. He reined up his horse, clappedhis hands, and, delighted with the fray, cried and shouted as fast asany of those who were actually engaged in it.

  The noise and cries thus arising on the Highgate, as it was called,drew into the quarrel two or three other parties of gentlemen and theirservants, besides some single passengers, who, hearing a fray betwixtthese two distinguished names, took part in it, either for love orhatred.

  The combat became now very sharp, and although the sword-and-buckler menmade more clatter and noise than they did real damage, yet severalgood cuts were dealt among them; and those who wore rapiers, a moreformidable weapon than the ordinary Scottish swords, gave and receiveddangerous wounds. Two men were already stretched on the causeway, andthe party of Seyton began to give ground, being much inferior in numberto the other, with which several of the citizens had united themselves,when young Roland Graeme, beholding their leader, a noble gentleman,fighting bravely, and hard pressed with numbers, could withhold nolonger. "Adam Woodcock," he said, "an you be a man, draw, and let ustake part with the Seyton." And, without waiting a reply, or listeningto the falconer's earnest entreaty, that he would leave alone a strifein which he had no concern, the fiery youth sprung from his horse, drewhis short sword, and shouting like the rest, "A Seyton! a Seyton! Seton! set on!" thrust forward into the throng, and struck down oneof those who was pressing hardest upon the gentleman whose cause heespoused. This sudden reinforcement gave spirit to the weaker party,who began to renew the combat with much alacrity, when four of themagistrates of the city, distinguished by their velvet cloaks and goldchains, came up with a guard of halberdiers and citizens, armed withlong weapons, and well accustomed to such service, thrust boldlyforward, and compelled the swordsmen to separate, who immediatelyretreated in different directions, leaving such of the wounded on bothsides, as had been disabled in the fray, lying on the street.

  The falconer, who had been tearing his beard for anger at his comrade'srashness, now rode up to him with the horse which he had caught bythe bridle, and accosted him with "Master Roland--master goose--mastermad-cap--will it please you to get on horse, and budge? or will youremain here to be carried to prison, and made to answer for this prettyday's work?"

  The page, who had begun his retreat along with the Seytons, just asif he had been one of their natural allies, was by this unceremoniousapplication made sensible that he was acting a foolish part; and,obeying Adam Woodcock with some sense of shame, he sprung actively onhorseback, and upsetting with the shoulder of the animal a city-officer,who was making towards him, he began to ride smartly down the street,along with his companion, and was quickly out of the reach of the hueand cry. In fact, rencounters of the kind were so common in Edinburghat that period, that the disturbance seldom excited much attention afterthe affray was over, unless some person of consequence chanced to havefallen, an incident which imposed on his friends the duty of avenginghis death on the first convenient opportunity. So feeble, indeed, wasthe arm of the police, that it was not unusual for such skirmishes tolast for hours, where the parties were numerous and well matched. But atthis time the Regent, a man of great strength of character, aware of themischief which usually arose from such acts of violence, had prevailedwith the magistrates to keep a constant guard on foot for preventing orseparating such affrays as had happened in the present case.

  The falconer and his young companion were now riding down the Canongate,and had slackened their pace to avoid attracting attention, the ratherthat there seemed to be no appearance of pursuit. Roland hung his headas one who was conscious his conduct had been none of the wisest, whilsthis companion thus addressed him:

  "Will you be pleased to tell me one thing, Master Roland Graeme, andthat is, whether there be a devil incarnate in you or no?"

  "Truly, Master Adam Woodcock," answered the page, "I would fain hopethere is not."

  "Then," said Adam, "I would fain know by what other influence orinstigation you are perpetually at one end or the other of some bloodybrawl? What, I pray, had you to do with these Seytons and Leslies, thatyou never heard the names of in your life before?"

  "You are out there, my friend," said Roland Graeme, "I have my ownreasons for being a friend to the Seytons."

  "They must have been very secret reasons then," answered Adam Woodcock,"for I think I could have wagered, you had never known one of the name;and I am apt to believe still, that it was your unhallowed passionfor that clashing of cold iron, which has as much charm for you as theclatter of a brass pan hath for a hive of bees, rather than any careeither for Seyton or for Leslie, that persuaded you to thrust yourfool's head into a quarrel that no ways concerned you. But take this fora warning, my young master, that if you are to draw sword with every manwho draws sword on the Highgate here, it will be scarce worth your whileto sheathe bilbo again for the rest of your life, since, if I guessrightly, it will scarce endure on such terms for many hours--all which Ileave to your serious consideration."

  "By my word, Adam, I honour your advice; and I promise you, that I willpractise by it as faithfully as if I were sworn apprentice to you,to the trade and mystery of bearing myself with all wisdom and safetythrough the new paths of life that I am about to be engaged in."
br />   "And therein you will do well," said the falconer; "and I do not quarrelwith you, Master Roland, for having a grain over much spirit, becauseI know one may bring to the hand a wild hawk which one never can adung-hill hen--and so betwixt two faults you have the best on't. Butbesides your peculiar genius for quarrelling and lugging out your sidecompanion, my dear Master Roland, you have also the gift of peeringunder every woman's muffler and screen, as if you expected to findan old acquaintance. Though were you to spy one, I should be as muchsurprised at it, well wotting how few you have seen of these samewild-fowl, as I was at your taking so deep an interest even now in theSeyton."

  "Tush, man! nonsense and folly," answered Roland Graeme, "I but soughtto see what eyes these gentle hawks have got under their hood."

  "Ay, but it's a dangerous subject of inquiry," said the falconer; "youhad better hold out your bare wrist for an eagle to perch upon.--Lookyou, Master Roland, these pretty wild-geese cannot be hawked at withoutrisk--they have as many divings, boltings, and volleyings, as the mostgamesome quarry that falcon ever flew at--And besides, every woman ofthem is manned with her husband, or her kind friend, or her brother,or her cousin, or her sworn servant at the least--But you heed me not,Master Roland, though I know the game so well--your eye is all on thatpretty damsel who trips down the gate before us--by my certes, I willwarrant her a blithe dancer either in reel or revel--a pair of silvermorisco bells would become these pretty ankles as well as the jesseswould suit the fairest Norway hawk."

  "Thou art a fool, Adam," said the page, "and I care not a button aboutthe girl or her ankles--But, what the foul fiend, one must look atsomething!"

  "Very true, Master Roland Graeme," said his guide, "but let me pray youto choose your objects better. Look you, there is scarce a woman walksthis High-gate with a silk screen or a pearlin muffler, but, as I saidbefore, she has either gentleman-usher before her, or kinsman, or lover,or husband, at her elbow, or it may be a brace of stout fellows withsword and buckler, not so far behind but what they can follow close--Butyou heed me no more than a goss-hawk minds a yellow yoldring."

  "O yes, I do--I do mind you indeed," said Roland Graeme; "but hold mynag a bit--I will be with you in the exchange of a whistle." So saying,and ere Adam Woodcock could finish the sermon which was dying on histongue, Roland Graeme, to the falconer's utter astonishment, threw himthe bridle of his jennet, jumped off horseback, and pursued down one ofthe closes or narrow lanes, which, opening under a vault, terminate uponthe main-street, the very maiden to whom his friend had accused him ofshowing so much attention, and who had turned down the pass in question.

  "Saint Mary, Saint Magdalen, Saint Benedict, Saint Barnabas!" said thepoor falconer, when he found himself thus suddenly brought to a pausein the midst of the Canongate, and saw his young charge start off like amadman in quest of a damsel whom he had never, as Adam supposed, seen inhis life before,--"Saint Satan and Saint Beelzebub--for this wouldmake one swear saint and devil--what can have come over the lad, witha wanion! And what shall I do the whilst!--he will have his throat cut,the poor lad, as sure as I was born at the foot of Roseberry-Topping.Could I find some one to hold the horses! but they are as sharp herenorth-away as in canny Yorkshire herself, and quit bridle, quit titt,as we say. An I could but see one of our folks now, a holly-sprig wereworth a gold tassel; or could I but see one of the Regent's men--but toleave the horses to a stranger, that I cannot--and to leave the placewhile the lad is in jeopardy, that I wonot."

  We must leave the falconer, however, in the midst of his distress, andfollow the hot-headed youth who was the cause of his perplexity.

  The latter part of Adam Woodcock's sage remonstrance had been in a greatmeasure lost upon Roland, for whose benefit it was intended; because,in one of the female forms which tripped along the street, muffled ina veil of striped silk, like the women of Brussels at this day, his eyehad discerned something which closely resembled the exquisite shape andspirited bearing of Catherine Seyton.--During all the grave advice whichthe falconer was dinning in his ears, his eye continued intent upon sointeresting an object of observation; and at length, as the damsel, justabout to dive under one of the arched passages which afforded an outletto the Canongate from the houses beneath, (a passage, graced by aprojecting shield of arms, supported by two huge foxes of stone,) hadlifted her veil for the purpose perhaps of descrying who the horsemanwas who for some time had eyed her so closely, young Roland saw, underthe shade of the silken plaid, enough of the bright azure eyes, fairlocks, and blithe features, to induce him, like an inexperiencedand rash madcap, whose wilful ways never had been traversed bycontradiction, nor much subjected to consideration, to throw the bridleof his horse into Adam Woodcock's hand, and leave him to play thewaiting gentleman, while he dashed down the paved court after CatherineSeyton--all as aforesaid.

  Women's wits are proverbially quick, but apparently those of Catherinesuggested no better expedient than fairly to betake herself to speed offoot, in hopes of baffling the page's vivacity, by getting safely lodgedbefore he could discover where. But a youth of eighteen, in pursuit ofa mistress, is not so easily outstripped. Catherine fled across apaved court, decorated with large formal vases of stone, in which yews,cypresses, and other evergreens, vegetated in sombre sullenness, andgave a correspondent degree of solemnity to the high and heavy buildingin front of which they were placed as ornaments, aspiring towards asquare portion of the blue hemisphere, corresponding exactly in extentto the quadrangle in which they were stationed, and all around whichrose huge black walls, exhibiting windows in rows of five stories, withheavy architraves over each, bearing armorial and religious devices.

  Through this court Catherine Seyton flashed like a hunted doe, makingthe best use of those pretty legs which had attracted the commendationeven of the reflective and cautious Adam Woodcock. She hastened towardsa large door in the centre of the lower front of the court, pulled thebobbin till the latch flew up, and ensconced herself in the ancientmansion. But, if she fled like a doe, Roland Graeme followed with thespeed and ardour of a youthful stag-hound, loosed for the first timeon his prey. He kept her in view in spite of her efforts; for it isremarkable what an advantage, in such a race, the gallant who desires tosee, possesses over the maiden who wishes not to be seen--an advantagewhich I have known counterbalance a great start in point of distance.In short, he saw the waving of her screen, or veil, at one corner, heardthe tap of her foot, light as that was, as it crossed the court, andcaught a glimpse of her figure just as she entered the door of themansion.

  Roland Graeme, inconsiderate and headlong as we have described him,having no knowledge of real life but from the romances which he hadread, and not an idea of checking himself in the midst of any eagerimpulse; possessed, besides, of much courage and readiness, neverhesitated for a moment to approach the door through which the object ofhis search had disappeared. He, too, pulled the bobbin, and the latch,though heavy and massive, answered to the summons, and arose. Thepage entered with the same precipitation which had marked his wholeproceeding, and found himself in a large hall, or vestibule, dimlyenlightened by latticed casements of painted glass, and rendered yetdimmer through the exclusion of the sunbeams, owing to the height of thewalls of those buildings by which the court-yard was enclosed. The wallsof the hall were surrounded with suits of ancient and rusted armour,interchanged with huge and massive stone scutcheons, bearing doubletressures, fleured and counter-fleured, wheat-sheaves, coronets, and soforth, things to which Roland Graeme gave not a moment's attention.

  In fact, he only deigned to observe the figure of Catherine Seyton, who,deeming herself safe in the hall, had stopped to take breath after hercourse, and was reposing herself for a moment on a large oaken settlewhich stood at the upper end of the hall. The noise of Roland's entranceat once disturbed her; she started up with a faint scream of surprise,and escaped through one of the several folding-doors which openedinto this apartment as a common centre. This door, which Roland Graemeinstantly approached, opened on a large and well-lighted
gallery, at theupper end of which he could hear several voices, and the noise of hastysteps approaching towards the hall or vestibule. A little recalled tosober thought by an appearance of serious danger, he was deliberatingwhether he should stand fast or retire, when Catherine Seyton re-enteredfrom a side door, running towards him with as much speed as a fewminutes since she had fled from him.

  "Oh, what mischief brought you hither?" she said; "fly--fly, or you area dead man,--or stay--they come--flight is impossible--say you came toask for Lord Seyton."

  She sprung from him and disappeared through the door by which she hadmade her second appearance; and, at the same instant, a pair of largefolding-doors at the upper end of the gallery flew open with vehemence,and six or seven young gentlemen, richly dressed, pressed forward intothe apartment, having, for the greater part, their swords drawn.

  "Who is it," said one, "dare intrude on us in our own mansion?"

  "Cut him to pieces," said another; "let him pay for this day's insolenceand violence--he is some follower of the Rothes."

  "No, by Saint Mary," said another; "he is a follower of the arch-fiendand ennobled clown Halbert Glendinning, who takes the style ofAvenel--once a church-vassal, now a pillager of the church."

  "It is so," said a fourth; "I know him by the holly-sprig, which istheir cognizance. Secure the door, he must answer for this insolence."

  Two of the gallants, hastily drawing their weapons, passed on to thedoor by which Roland had entered the hall, and stationed themselvesthere as if to prevent his escape. The others advanced on Graeme, whohad just sense enough to perceive that any attempt at resistance wouldbe alike fruitless and imprudent. At once, and by various voices, noneof which sounded amicably, the page was required to say who he was,whence he came, his name, his errand, and who sent him hither. Thenumber of the questions demanded of him at once, afforded a momentaryapology for his remaining silent, and ere that brief truce had elapsed,a personage entered the hall, at whose appearance those who had gatheredfiercely around Roland, fell back with respect.

  This was a tall man, whose dark hair was already grizzled, though hishigh and haughty features retained all the animation of youth. The upperpart of his person was undressed to his Holland shirt, whose ample foldswere stained with blood. But he wore a mantle of crimson, lined withrich fur, cast around him, which supplied the deficiency of his dress.On his head he had a crimson velvet bonnet, looped up on one side witha small golden chain of many links, which, going thrice around the hat,was fastened by a medal, agreeable to the fashion amongst the grandeesof the time.

  "Whom have you here, sons and kinsmen," said he, "around whom you crowdthus roughly?--Know you not that the shelter of this roof should secureevery one fair treatment, who shall come hither either in fair peace, orin open and manly hostility?"

  "But here, my lord," answered one of the youths, "is a knave who comeson treacherous espial!"

  "I deny the charge!" said Roland Graeme, boldly, "I came to inquireafter my Lord Seyton."

  "A likely tale," answered his accusers, "in the mouth of a follower ofGlendinning."

  "Stay, young men," said the Lord Seyton, for it was that noblemanhimself, "let me look at this youth--By heaven, it is the very same whocame so boldly to my side not very many minutes since, when some of myown knaves bore themselves with more respect to their own worshipfulsafety than to mine! Stand back from him, for he well deserves honourand a friendly welcome at your hands, instead of this rough treatment."

  They fell back on all sides, obedient to Lord Seyton's commands, who,taking Roland Graeme by the hand, thanked him for his prompt and gallantassistance, adding, that he nothing doubted, "the same interest whichhe had taken in his cause in the affray, brought him hither to inquireafter his hurt."

  Roland bowed low in acquiescence.

  "Or is there any thing in which I can serve you, to show my sense ofyour ready gallantry?"

  But the page, thinking it best to abide by the apology for his visitwhich the Lord Seyton had so aptly himself suggested, replied, "thatto be assured of his lordship's safety, had been the only cause of hisintrusion. He judged," he added, "he had seen him receive some hurt inthe affray."

  "A trifle," said Lord Seyton; "I had but stripped my doublet, that thechirurgeon might put some dressing on the paltry scratch, when theserash boys interrupted us with their clamour."

  Roland Graeme, making a low obeisance, was now about to depart, for,relieved from the danger of being treated as a spy, he began next tofear, that his companion, Adam Woodcock, whom he had so unceremoniouslyquitted, would either bring him into some farther dilemma, by venturinginto the hotel in quest of him, or ride off and leave him behindaltogether. But Lord Seyton did not permit him to escape so easily."Tarry," he said, "young man, and let me know thy rank and name. TheSeyton has of late been more wont to see friends and followers shrinkfrom his side, than to receive aid from strangers-but a new worldmay come around, in which he may have the chance of rewarding hiswell-wishers."

  "My name is Roland Graeme, my lord," answered the youth, "a page, who,for the present, is in the service of Sir Halbert Glendinning."

  "I said so from the first," said one of the young men; "my life I willwager, that this is a shaft out of the heretic's quiver-a stratagem fromfirst to last, to injeer into your confidence some espial of his own.They know how to teach both boys and women to play the intelligencers."

  "That is false, if it be spoken of me," said Roland; "no man in Scotlandshould teach me such a foul part!"

  "I believe thee, boy," said Lord Seyton, "for thy strokes were too fairto be dealt upon an understanding with those that were to receive them.Credit me, however, I little expected to have help at need from one ofyour master's household; and I would know what moved thee in my quarrel,to thine own endangering?"

  "So please you, my lord," said Roland, "I think my master himself wouldnot have stood by, and seen an honourable man borne to earth by odds,if his single arm could help him. Such, at least, is the lesson we weretaught in chivalry, at the Castle of Avenel."

  "The good seed hath fallen into good ground, young man," said Seyton;"but, alas! if thou practise such honourable war in these dishonourabledays, when right is every where borne down by mastery, thy life, my poorboy, will be but a short one."

  "Let it be short, so it be honourable," said Roland Graeme; "and permitme now, my lord, to commend me to your grace, and to take my leave. Acomrade waits with my horse in the street."

  "Take this, however, young man," said Lord Seyton,

  [Footnote: George, fifth Lord Seton, was immovably faithful to QueenMary during all the mutabilities of her fortune. He was grand master ofthe household, in which capacity he had a picture painted of himself,with his official baton, and the following motto:

  In adversitate, patiens; In prosperitate, benevolus. Hazard, yet forward.

  On various parts of his castle he inscribed, as expressing his religiousand political creed, the legend:

  Un Dieu, un Foy, un Roy, un Loy.

  He declined to be promoted to an earldom, which Queen Mary offered himat the same time when she advanced her natural brother to be Earl ofMar, and afterwards of Murray.

  On his refusing this honour, Mary wrote, or caused to be written, thefollowing lines in Latin and French:

  Sunt comites, ducesque alii; sunt denique reges; Sethom dominum sit satis esse mihi.

  Il y a des comptes, des roys, des ducs; ainsi C'est assez pour moy d'estre Seigneur de Seton.

  Which may be thus rendered:--

  Earl, duke, or king, be thou that list to be: Seton, thy lordship is enough for me.

  This distich reminds us of the "pride which aped humility," in the mottoof the house of Couci:

  Je suis ni roy, ni prince aussi; Je suis le Seigneur de Coucy.

  After the battle of Langside, Lord Seton was obliged to retire abroadfor safety, and was an exile for two years, during which he was reducedto the necessity of driving a waggon in Flanders for his subsistence
. Herose to favour in James VI's reign, and assuming his paternal property,had himself painted in his waggoner's dress, and in the act of drivinga wain with four horses, on the north end of a stately gallery at SetonCastle]

  undoing from his bonnet the golden chain and medal, "and wear it for mysake."

  With no little pride Roland Graeme accepted the gift, which he hastilyfastened around his bonnet, as he had seen gallants wear such anornament, and renewing his obeisance to the Baron, left the hall,traversed the court, and appeared in the street, just as Adam Woodcock,vexed and anxious at his delay, had determined to leave the horses totheir fate, and go in quest of his youthful comrade. "Whose barn hastthou broken next?" he exclaimed, greatly relieved by his appearance,although his countenance indicated that he had passed through anagitating scene.

  "Ask me no questions," said Roland, leaping gaily on his horse; "but seehow short time it takes to win a chain of gold," pointing to that whichhe now wore.

  "Now, God forbid that thou hast either stolen it, or reft it byviolence," said the falconer; "for, otherwise, I wot not how the devilthou couldst compass it. I have been often here, ay, for months at anend, and no one gave me either chain or medal."

  "Thou seest I have got one on shorter acquaintance with the city,"answered the page, "but set thine honest heart at rest; that which isfairly won and freely given, is neither reft nor stolen."

  "Marry, hang thee, with thy fanfarona [Footnote: A name given to thegold chains worn by the military men of the period. It is of Spanishorigin: for the fashion of wearing these costly ornaments was muchfollowed amongst the conquerors of the New World.] about thy neck!" saidthe falconer; "I think water will not drown, nor hemp strangle thee.Thou hast been discarded as my lady's page, to come in again as mylord's squire; and for following a noble young damsel into some greathousehold, thou gettest a chain and medal, where another would havehad the baton across his shoulders, if he missed having the dirk in hisbody. But here we come in front of the old Abbey. Bear thy good luckwith you when you cross these paved stones, and, by our Lady, you maybrag Scotland."

  As he spoke, they checked their horses, where the huge old vaultedentrance to the Abbey or Palace of Holyrood crossed the termination ofthe street down which they had proceeded. The courtyard of the palaceopened within this gloomy porch, showing the front of an irregular pileof monastic buildings, one wing of which is still extant, forming a partof the modern palace, erected in the days of Charles I.

  At the gate of the porch the falconer and page resigned their horses tothe serving-man in attendance; the falconer commanding him with an airof authority, to carry them safely to the stables. "We follow," he said,"the Knight of Avenel--We must bear ourselves for what we are here,"said he in a whisper to Roland, "for every one here is looked on as theydemean themselves; and he that is too modest must to the wall, as theproverb says; therefore cock thy bonnet, man, and let us brook thecauseway bravely."

  Assuming, therefore, an air of consequence, corresponding to what hesupposed to be his master's importance and quality, Adam Woodcock ledthe way into the courtyard of the Palace of Holyrood.

  He appears to have been fond of the arts; for there exists a beautifulfamily-piece of him in the centre of his family. Mr. Pinkerton, in hisScottish Iconographia, published an engraving of this curious portrait.The original is the property of Lord Somerville, nearly connected withthe Seton family, and is at present at his lordship's fishing villa ofthe Pavilion, near Melrose.