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  Chapter the Twenty-Third.

  Give me a morsel on the greensward rather, Coarse as you will the cooking--Let the fresh spring Bubble beside my napkin--and the free birds Twittering and chirping, hop from bough to bough, To claim the crumbs I leave for perquisites-- Your prison feasts I like not. THE WOODSMAN, A DRAMA.

  A recess in the vestibule was enlightened by a small window, at whichRoland Graeme stationed himself to mark the departure of the lords. Hecould see their followers mustering on horseback under their respectivebanners--the western sun glancing on their corslets and steel-capsas they moved to and fro, mounted or dismounted, at intervals. On thenarrow space betwixt the castle and the water, the Lords Ruthven andLindesay were already moving slowly to their boats, accompanied by theLady of Lochleven, her grandson, and their principal attendants. Theytook a ceremonious leave of each other, as Roland could discern by theirgestures, and the boats put oft from their landing-place; the boatmenstretched to their oars, and they speedily diminished upon the eyeof the idle gazer, who had no better employment than to watch theirmotions. Such seemed also the occupation of the Lady Lochleven andGeorge Douglas, who, returning from the landing-place, looked frequentlyback to the boats, and at length stopped as if to observe their progressunder the window at which Roland Graeme was stationed.--As they gazed onthe lake, he could hear the lady distinctly say, "And she has bent hermind to save her life at the expense of her kingdom?"

  "Her life, madam!" replied her son; "I know not who would dare toattempt it in the castle of my father. Had I dreamt that it was withsuch purpose that Lindesay insisted on bringing his followers hither,neither he nor they should have passed the iron gate of Lochlevencastle."

  "I speak not of private slaughter, my son, but of open trial,condemnation, and execution; for with such she has been threatened, andto such threats she has given way. Had she not more of the false Gusianblood than of the royal race of Scotland in her veins, she had biddenthem defiance to their teeth--But it is all of the same complexion,and meanness is the natural companion of profligacy.--I am discharged,forsooth, from intruding on her gracious presence this evening. Gothou, my son, and render the usual service of the meal to this unqueenedQueen."

  "So please you, lady mother," said Douglas, "I care not greatly toapproach her presence."

  "Thou art right, my son; and therefore I trust thy prudence, evenbecause I have noted thy caution. She is like an isle on the ocean,surrounded with shelves and quicksands; its verdure fair and inviting tothe eye, but the wreck of many a goodly vessel which hath approached ittoo rashly. But for thee, my son, I fear nought; and we may not, withour honour, suffer her to eat without the attendance of one of us. Shemay die by the judgment of Heaven, or the fiend may have power over herin her despair; and then we would be touched in honour to show thatin our house, and at our table, she had had all fair play and fittingusage."

  Here Roland was interrupted by a smart tap on the shoulders, remindinghim sharply of Adam Woodcock's adventure of the preceding evening.He turned round, almost expecting to see the page of Saint Michael'shostelry. He saw, indeed, Catherine Seyton; but she was in femaleattire, differing, no doubt, a great deal in shape and materials fromthat which she had worn when they first met, and becoming her birthas the daughter of a great baron, and her rank as the attendant on aprincess. "So, fair page," said she, "eaves-dropping is one of yourpage-like qualities, I presume."

  "Fair sister," answered Roland, in the same tone, "if some friends ofmine be as well acquainted with the rest of our mystery as they are withthe arts of swearing, swaggering, and switching, they need ask no pagein Christendom for farther insight into his vocation."

  "Unless that pretty speech infer that you have yourself had thediscipline of the switch since we last met, the probability whereof Inothing doubt, I profess, fair page, I am at a loss to conjecture yourmeaning. But there is no time to debate it now--they come with theevening meal. Be pleased, Sir Page, to do your duty."

  Four servants entered bearing dishes, preceded by the same stern oldsteward whom Roland had already seen, and followed by George Douglas,already mentioned as the grandson of the Lady of Lochleven, and who,acting as seneschal, represented, upon this occasion, his father, theLord of the Castle. He entered with his arms folded on his bosom, andhis looks bent on the ground. With the assistance of Roland Graeme, atable was suitably covered in the next or middle apartment, on whichthe domestics placed their burdens with great reverence, the steward andDouglas bending low when they had seen the table properly adorned, as iftheir royal prisoner had sat at the board in question. The door opened,and Douglas, raising his eyes hastily, cast them again on the earth,when he perceived it was only the Lady Mary Fleming who entered.

  "Her Grace," she said, "will not eat to-night."

  "Let us hope she may be otherwise persuaded," said Douglas; "meanwhile,madam, please to see our duty performed."

  A servant presented bread and salt on a silver plate, and the oldsteward carved for Douglas a small morsel in succession from each of thedishes presented, which he tasted, as was then the custom at the tablesof princes, to which death was often suspected to find its way in thedisguise of food.

  "The Queen will not then come forth to-night?" said Douglas.

  "She has so determined," replied the lady.

  "Our farther attendance then is unnecessary--we leave you to yoursupper, fair ladies, and wish you good even."

  He retired slowly as he came, and with the same air of deep dejection,and was followed by the attendants belonging to the castle. The twoladies sate down to their meal, and Roland Graeme, with ready alacrity,prepared to wait upon them. Catherine Seyton whispered to her companion,who replied with the question spoken in a low tone, but looking at thepage--"Is he of gentle blood and well nurtured?"

  The answer which she received seemed satisfactory, for she said toRoland, "Sit down, young gentleman, and eat with your sisters incaptivity."

  "Permit me rather to perform my duty in attending them," said Roland,anxious to show he was possessed of the high tone of deferenceprescribed by the rules of chivalry towards the fair sex, and especiallyto dames and maidens of quality.

  "You will find, Sir Page," said Catherine, "you will have little timeallowed you for your meal; waste it not in ceremony, or you may rue yourpoliteness ere to-morrow morning."

  "Your speech is too free, maiden," said the elder lady; "the modesty ofthe youth may teach you more fitting fashions towards one whom to-dayyou have seen for the first time."

  Catherine Seyton cast down her eyes, but not till she had given a singleglance of inexpressible archness towards Roland, whom her more gravecompanion now addressed in a tone of protection.

  "Regard her not, young gentleman--she knows little of the world, savethe forms of a country nunnery--take thy place at the board-end, andrefresh thyself after thy journey."

  Roland Graeme obeyed willingly, as it was the first food he had that daytasted; for Lindesay and his followers seemed regardless of human wants.Yet, notwithstanding the sharpness of his appetite, a natural gallantryof disposition, the desire of showing himself a well-nurtured gentleman,in all courtesies towards the fair sex, and, for aught I know, thepleasure of assisting Catherine Seyton, kept his attention awake, duringthe meal, to all those nameless acts of duty and service which gallantsof that age were accustomed to render. He carved with neatness anddecorum, and selected duly whatever was most delicate to place beforethe ladies. Ere they could form a wish, he sprung from the table, readyto comply with it--poured wine--tempered it with water--removed theexchanged trenchers, and performed the whole honours of the table, withan air at once of cheerful diligence, profound respect, and gracefulpromptitude.

  When he observed that they had finished eating, he hastened to offer tothe elder lady the silver ewer, basin, and napkin, with the ceremony andgravity which he would have used towards Mary herself. He next, with thesame decorum, having supplied the basin with fair water, presented itto Catherine Seyton
. Apparently, she was determined to disturb hisself-possession, if possible; for, while in the act of bathing herhands, she contrived, as it were by accident, to flirt some drops ofwater upon the face of the assiduous assistant. But if such was hermischievous purpose she was completely disappointed; for Roland Graeme,internally piquing himself on his self-command, neither laughed nor wasdiscomposed; and all that the maiden gained by her frolic was a severerebuke from her companion, taxing her with mal-address and indecorum.Catherine replied not, but sat pouting, something in the humour of aspoilt child, who watches the opportunity of wreaking upon some one orother its resentment for a deserved reprimand.

  The Lady Mary Fleming, in the mean-while, was naturally well pleasedwith the exact and reverent observance of the page, and said toCatherine, after a favourable glance at Roland Graeme,--"You might wellsay, Catherine, our companion in captivity was well born and gentlenurtured. I would not make him vain by my praise, but his servicesenable us to dispense with those which George Douglas condescends not toafford us, save when the Queen is herself in presence."

  "Umph! I think hardly," answered Catherine. "George Douglas is one ofthe most handsome gallants in Scotland, and 'tis pleasure to seehim even still, when the gloom of Lochleven Castle has shed the samemelancholy over him, that it has done over every thing else. When he wasat Holyrood who would have said the young sprightly George Douglas wouldhave been contented to play the locksman here in Lochleven, with nogayer amusement than that of turning the key on two or three helplesswomen?--a strange office for a Knight of the Bleeding Heart--why does henot leave it to his father or his brothers?"

  "Perhaps, like us, he has no choice," answered the Lady Fleming. "But,Catherine, thou hast used thy brief space at court well, to rememberwhat George Douglas was then."

  "I used mine eyes, which I suppose was what I was designed to do, andthey were worth using there. When I was at the nunnery, they were veryuseless appurtenances; and now I am at Lochleven, they are good fornothing, save to look over that eternal work of embroidery."

  "You speak thus, when you have been but a few brief hours amongstus--was this the maiden who would live and die in a dungeon, might shebut have permission to wait on her gracious Queen?"

  "Nay, if you chide in earnest, my jest is ended," said Catherine Seyton."I would not yield in attachment to my poor god-mother, to the gravestdame that ever had wise saws upon her tongue, and a double-starched ruffaround her throat--you know I would not, Dame Mary Fleming, and it isputting shame on me to say otherwise."

  "She will challenge the other court lady," thought Roland Graeme; "shewill to a certainty fling down her glove, and if Dame Mary Fleming hathbut the soul to lift it, we may have a combat in the lists!"--but theanswer of Lady Mary Fleming was such as turns away wrath.

  "Thou art a good child," she said, "my Catherine, and a faithful;but Heaven pity him who shall have one day a creature so beautiful todelight him, and a thing so mischievous to torment him--thou art fit todrive twenty husbands stark mad."

  "Nay," said Catherine, resuming the full career of her carelessgood-humour, "he must be half-witted beforehand, that gives me suchan opportunity. But I am glad you are not angry with me in sincerity,"casting herself as she spoke into the arms of her friend, andcontinuing, with a tone of apologetic fondness, while she kissed heron either side of the face; "you know, my dear Fleming, that I have tocontend with both my father's lofty pride, and with my mother's highspirit--God bless them! they have left me these good qualities, havingsmall portion to give besides, as times go--and so I am wilful andsaucy; but let me remain only a week in this castle, and oh, my dearFleming, my spirit will be as chastised and humble as thine own."

  Dame Mary Fleming's sense of dignity, and love of form, could notresist this affectionate appeal. She kissed Catherine Seyton in her turnaffectionately; while, answering the last part of her speech, she said,"Now Our Lady forbid, dear Catherine, that you should lose aught thatis beseeming of what becomes so well your light heart and lively humour.Keep but your sharp wit on this side of madness, and it cannot but bea blessing to us. But let me go, mad wench--I hear her Grace touch hersilver call." And, extricating herself from Catherine's grasp, she wenttowards the door of Queen Mary's apartment, from which was heard the lowtone of a silver whistle, which, now only used by the boatswains in thenavy, was then, for want of bells, the ordinary mode by which ladies,even of the very highest rank, summoned their domestics. When she hadmade two or three steps towards the door, however, she turned back, andadvancing to the young couple whom she left together, she said, in avery serious though a low tone, "I trust it is impossible that we can,any of us, or in any circumstances, forget, that, few as we are, we formthe household of the Queen of Scotland; and that, in her calamity, allboyish mirth and childish jesting can only serve to give a great triumphto her enemies, who have already found their account in objecting to herthe lightness of every idle folly, that the young and the gay practisedin her court." So saying, she left the apartment.

  Catherine Seyton seemed much struck with this remonstrance--She sufferedherself to drop into the seat which she had quitted when she went toembrace Dame Mary Fleming, and for some time rested her brow upon herhands; while Roland Graeme looked at her earnestly, with a mixtureof emotions which perhaps he himself could neither have analysed norexplained. As she raised her face slowly from the posture to which amomentary feeling of self-rebuke had depressed it, her eyes encounteredthose of Roland, and became gradually animated with their usualspirit of malicious drollery, which not unnaturally excited a similarexpression in those of the equally volatile page. They sat for the spaceof two minutes, each looking at the other with great seriousness ontheir features, and much mirth in their eyes, until at length Catherinewas the first to break silence.

  "May I pray you, fair sir," she began, very demurely, "to tell me whatyou see in my face to arouse looks so extremely sagacious and knowingas those with which it is your worship's pleasure to honour me? It wouldseem as if there were some wonderful confidence and intimacy betwixt us,fair sir, if one is to judge from your extremely cunning looks; and sohelp me, Our Lady, as I never saw you but twice in my life before."

  "And where were those happy occasions," said Roland, "if I may be boldenough to ask the question?"

  "At the nunnery of St. Catherine's," said the damsel, "in the firstinstance; and, in the second, during five minutes of a certain raid orforay which it was your pleasure to make into the lodging of my lordand father, Lord Seyton, from which, to my surprise, as probably toyour own, you returned with a token of friendship and favour, insteadof broken bones, which were the more probable reward of your intrusion,considering the prompt ire of the house of Seyton. I am deeplymortified," she added, ironically, "that your recollection shouldrequire refreshment on a subject so important; and that my memory shouldbe stronger than yours on such an occasion, is truly humiliating."

  "Your own, memory is not so exactly correct, fair mistress," answeredthe page, "seeing you have forgotten meeting the third, in the hostelrieof St. Michael's, when it pleased you to lay your switch across theface of my comrade, in order, I warrant, to show that, in the house ofSeyton, neither the prompt ire of its descendants, nor the use of thedoublet and hose, are subject to Salique law, or confined to the use ofthe males."

  "Fair sir," answered Catherine, looking at him with great steadiness,and some surprise, "unless your fair wits have forsaken you, I am at aloss what to conjecture of your meaning."

  "By my troth, fair mistress," answered Roland, "and were I as wise awarlock as Michael Scott, I could scarce riddle the dream you read me.Did I not see you last night in the hostelrie of St. Michael's?--Did younot bring me this sword, with command not to draw it save at the commandof my native and rightful Sovereign? And have I not done as you requiredme? Or is the sword a piece of lath--my word a bulrush--my memory adream--and my eyes good for nought--espials which corbies might pick outof my head?"

  "And if your eyes serve you not more truly on other occasions thani
n your vision of St. Michael," said Catherine, "I know not, thepain apart, that the corbies would do you any great injury inthe deprivation--But hark, the bell--hush, for God's sake, we areinterrupted.--"

  The damsel was right; for no sooner had the dull toll of the castle bellbegun to resound through the vaulted apartment, than the door of thevestibule flew open, and the steward, with his severe countenance, hisgold chain, and his white rod, entered the apartment, followed by thesame train of domestics who had placed the dinner on the table, and whonow, with the same ceremonious formality, began to remove it.

  The steward remained motionless as some old picture, while the domesticsdid their office; and when it was accomplished, every thing removed fromthe table, and the board itself taken from its tressels and disposedagainst the wall, he said aloud, without addressing any one inparticular, and somewhat in the tone of a herald reading a proclamation,"My noble lady, Dame Margaret Erskine, by marriage Douglas, lets theLady Mary of Scotland and her attendants to wit, that a servant of thetrue evangele, her reverend chaplain, will to-night, as usual, expound,lecture, and catechise, according to the forms of the congregation ofgospellers."

  "Hark you, my friend, Mr. Dryfesdale," said Catherine, "I understandthis announcement is a nightly form of yours. Now, I pray you to remark,that the Lady Fleming and I--for I trust your insolent invitationconcerns us only--have chosen Saint Peter's pathway to Heaven, so I seeno one whom your godly exhortation, catechise, or lecture, can benefit,excepting this poor page, who, being in Satan's hand as well asyourself, had better worship with you than remain to cumber ourbetter-advised devotions."

  The page was well-nigh giving a round denial to the assertions whichthis speech implied, when, remembering what had passed betwixt him andthe Regent, and seeing Catherine's finger raised in a monitory fashion,he felt himself, as on former occasions at the Castle of Avenel, obligedto submit to the task of dissimulation, and followed Dryfesdale down tothe castle chapel, where he assisted in the devotions of the evening.

  The chaplain was named Elias Henderson. He was a man in the prime oflife, and possessed of good natural parts, carefully improved by thebest education which those times afforded. To these qualities were addeda faculty of close and terse reasoning; and, at intervals, a flow ofhappy illustration and natural eloquence. The religious faith of RolandGraeme, as we have already had opportunity to observe, rested onno secure basis, but was entertained rather in obedience to hisgrandmother's behests, and his secret desire to contradict the chaplainof Avenel Castle, than from any fixed or steady reliance which he placedon the Romish creed. His ideas had been of late considerably enlargedby the scenes he had passed through; and feeling that there was shamein not understanding something of those political disputes betwixt theprofessors of the ancient and the reformed faith, he listened withmore attention than it had hitherto been in his nature to yield on suchoccasions, to an animated discussion of some of the principal pointsof difference betwixt the churches. So passed away the first day in theCastle of Lochleven; and those which followed it were, for some time, ofa very monotonous and uniform tenor.