The Monastery Page 28

  Chapter the Twenty-Eighth.

  He is at liberty, I have ventured for him! -----------------------------if the law Find and condemn me for't, some living wenches, Some honest-hearted maids will sing my dirge, And tell to memory my death was noble, Dying almost a martyr. THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN.

  The Sub-Prior of Saint Mary's, in taking his departure from the spencewhich Sir Piercie Shafton was confined, and in which some preparationswere made for his passing the night as the room which might be mostconveniently guarded, left more than one perplexed person behind him.There was connected with this chamber, and opening into it, a small_outshot_, or projecting part of the building, occupied by a sleepingapartment, which upon ordinary occasions, was that of Mary Avenel, andwhich, in the unusual number of guests who had come to the tower onthe former evening, had also accommodated Mysie Happer, the Miller'sdaughter; for anciently, as well as in the present day, a Scottish housewas always rather too narrow and limited for the extent of the owner'shospitality, and some shift and contrivance was necessary, upon anyunusual occasion, to ensure the accommodation of all the guests.

  The fatal news of Halbert Glendinning's death had thrown all formerarrangements into confusion. Mary Avenel, whose case required immediateattention, had been transported into the apartment hitherto occupied byHalbert and his brother, as the latter proposed to watch all night,in order to prevent the escape of the prisoner. Poor Mysie had beenaltogether overlooked, and had naturally enough betaken herself to thelittle apartment which she had hitherto occupied, ignorant that thespence, through which lay the only access to it, was to be the sleepingchamber of Sir Piercie Shafton. The measures taken for securing himthere had been so sudden, that she was not aware of it, until shefound that the other females had been removed from the spence bythe Sub-Prior's direction, and having once missed the opportunity ofretreating along with them, bashfulness, and the high respect which shewas taught to bear to the monks, prevented her venturing forth alone,and intruding herself on the presence of Father Eustace, while in secretconference with the Southron. There appeared no remedy but to wait tilltheir interview was over; and, as the door was thin, and did not shutvery closely, she could hear every word that passed betwixt them.

  It thus happened, that without any intended intrusion on her part, shebecame privy to the whole conversation of the Sub-Prior and the Englishknight, and could also observe from the window of her little retreat,that more than one of the young men summoned by Edward arrivedsuccessively at the tower. These circumstances led her to entertain mostserious apprehension that the life of Sir Piercie Shafton was in greatand instant peril.

  Woman is naturally compassionate, and not less willingly so when youthand fair features are on the side of him who claims her sympathy. Thehandsome presence, elaborate dress and address, of Sir Piercie Shafton,which had failed to make any favorable impression on the grave and loftycharacter of Mary Avenel, had completely dazzled and bewildered the poorMaid of the Mill. The knight had perceived this result, and, flatteredby seeing that his merit was not universally underrated, he had bestowedon Mysie a good deal more of his courtesy than in his opinion her rankwarranted. It was not cast away, but received with a devout sense of hiscondescension, and with gratitude for his personal notice, which,joined to her fears for his safety, and the natural tenderness of herdisposition, began to make wild work in her heart.

  "To be sure it was very wrong in him to slay Halbert Glendinning," (itwas thus she argued the case with herself,) "but then he was a gentlemanborn, and a soldier, and so gentle and courteous withal, that she wassure the quarrel had been all of young Glendinning's own seeking; forit was well known that both these lads were so taken up with that MaryAvenel, that they never looked at another lass in the Halidome, morethan if they were of a different degree. And then Halbert's dress wasas clownish as his manners were haughty; and this poor young gentleman,(who was habited like any prince,) banished from his own land, was firstdrawn into a quarrel by a rude brangler, and then persecuted and like tobe put to death by his kin and allies."

  Mysie wept bitterly at the thought, and then her heart rising againstsuch cruelty and oppression to a defenceless stranger, who dressedwith so much skill, and spoke with so much grace, she began to considerwhether she could not render him some assistance in this extremity.

  Her mind was now entirely altered from its original purpose. At firsther only anxiety had been to find the means of escaping from theinterior apartment, without being noticed by any one; but now she beganto think that Heaven had placed her there for the safety and protectionof the persecuted stranger. She was of a simple and affectionate, but atthe same time an alert and enterprising character, possessing morethan female strength of body, and more than female courage, though withfeelings as capable of being bewildered with gallantry of dress andlanguage, as a fine gentleman of any generation would have desired toexercise his talents upon. "I will save him," she thought, "that is thefirst thing to be resolved--and then I wonder what he will say to thepoor Miller's maiden, that has done for him what all the dainty dames inLondon or Holyrood would have been afraid to venture upon."

  Prudence began to pull her sleeve as she indulged speculations sohazardous, and hinted to her that the warmer Sir Piercie Shafton'sgratitude might prove, it was the more likely to be fraught with dangerto his benefactress. Alas! poor Prudence, thou mayest say with our moralteacher,

  "I preach for ever, but I preach in vain."

  The Miller's maiden, while you pour your warning into her unwillingbosom, has glanced her eye on the small mirror by which she has placedher little lamp, and it returns to her a countenance and eyes, prettyand sparkling at all times, but ennobled at present with the energy ofexpression proper to those who have dared to form, and stand preparedto execute, deeds of generous audacity. "Will these features--willthese eyes, joined to the benefit I am about to confer upon Sir PiercieShafton, do nothing towards removing the distance of rank between us?"

  Such was the question which female vanity asked of fancy; and thougheven fancy dared not answer in a ready affirmative, a middle conclusionwas adopted--"Let me first succour the gallant youth, and trust tofortune for the rest."

  Banishing, therefore, from her mind every thing that was personal toherself, the rash but generous girl turned her whole thoughts to themeans of executing this enterprise.

  The difficulties which interposed were of no ordinary nature. Thevengeance of the men of that country, in cases of deadly feud, thatis, in cases of a quarrel excited by the slaughter of any of theirrelations, was one of their most marked characteristics; and Edward,however gentle in other respects, was so fond of his brother, thatthere could be no doubt that he would be as signal in his revenge asthe customs of the country authorized. There were to be passed the innerdoor of the apartment, the two gates of the tower itself, and the gateof the court-yard, ere the prisoner was at liberty; and then a guideand means of flight were to be provided, otherwise ultimate escapewas impossible. But where the will of woman is strongly bent onthe accomplishment of such a purpose, her wit is seldom baffled bydifficulties, however embarrassing.

  The Sub-Prior had not long left the apartment, ere Mysie had devised ascheme for Sir Piercie Shafton's freedom, daring, indeed, but likely tobe successful, if dexterously conducted. It was necessary, however, thatshe should remain where she was till so late an hour, that all in thetower should have betaken themselves to repose, excepting those whoseduty made them watchers. The interval she employed in observingthe movements of the person in whose service she was thus boldly avolunteer.

  She could hear Sir Piercie Shafton pace the floor to and fro, inreflection doubtless on his own untoward fate and precarious situation.By and by she heard him making a rustling among his trunks, which,agreeable to the order of the Sub-Prior, had been placed in theapartment to which he was confined, and which he was probably amusingmore melancholy thoughts by examining and arranging. Then she could hearhim resume his walk through the room, and, as i
f his spirits had beensomewhat relieved and elevated by the survey of his wardrobe, she coulddistinguish that at one turn he half recited a sonnet, at another halfwhistled a galliard, and at the third hummed a saraband. At length shecould understand that he extended himself on the temporary couch whichhad been allotted to him, after muttering his prayers hastily, and in ashort time she concluded he must be fast asleep.

  She employed the moment which intervened in considering her enterpriseunder every different aspect; and dangerous as it was, the steady reviewwhich she took of the various perils accompanying her purpose, furnishedher with plausible devices for obviating them. Love and generouscompassion, which give singly such powerful impulse to the female heart,were in this case united, and championed her to the last extremity ofhazard.

  It was an hour past midnight. All in the tower slept sound but those whohad undertaken to guard the English prisoner; or if sorrow and sufferingdrove sleep from the bed of Dame Glendinning and her foster-daughter,they were too much wrapt in their own griefs to attend to externalsounds. The means of striking light were at hand in the small apartment,and thus the Miller's maiden was enabled to light and trim a small lamp.With a trembling step and throbbing heart, she undid the door whichseparated her from the apartment in which the Southron knight wasconfined, and almost flinched from her fixed purpose, when she foundherself in the same room with the sleeping prisoner. She scarcelytrusted herself to look upon him, as he lay wrapped in his cloak, andfast asleep upon the pallet bed, but turned her eyes away while shegently pulled his mantle with no more force than was just equal toawaken him. He moved not until she had twitched his cloak a second anda third time, and then at length looking up, was about to make anexclamation in the suddenness of his surprise.

  Mysie's bashfulness was conquered by her fear. She placed her fingerson her lips, in token that he must observe the most strict silence, andthen pointed to the door to intimate that it was watched.

  Sir Piercie Shafton now collected himself and sat upright on his couch.He gazed with surprise on the graceful figure of the young woman whostood before him; her well-formed person, her flowing hair, and theoutline of her features, showed dimly, and yet to advantage, by thepartial and feeble light which she held in her hand. The romanticimagination of the gallant would soon have coined some compliment properfor the occasion, but Mysie left him not time.

  "I come," she said, "to save your life, which is else in great peril--ifyou answer me, speak as low as you can, for they have sentinelled yourdoor with armed men."

  "Comeliest of miller's daughters," answered Sir Piercie, who by thistime was sitting upright on his couch, "dread nothing for my safety.Credit me, that, as in very truth, I have not spilled the red puddle(which these villagios call the blood) of their most uncivil relation,so I am under no apprehension whatever for the issue of this restraint,seeing that it cannot but be harmless to me. Natheless, to thee, O mostMolendinar beauty, I return the thanks which thy courtesy may justlyclaim."

  "Nay, but, Sir Knight," answered the maiden, in a whisper as low as itwas tremulous, "I deserve no thanks unless you will act by my counsel.Edward Glendinning hath sent for Dan of the Howlet-hirst, and young Adieof Aikenshaw, and they are come with three men more, and with bow, andjack, and spear, and I heard them say to each other, and to Edward, asthey alighted in the court, that they would have amends for the death oftheir kinsman, if the monk's cowl should smoke for it--And the vassalsare so wilful now, that the Abbot himself dare not control them, forfear they turn heretics, and refuse to pay their feu-duties."

  "In faith," said Sir Piercie Shafton, "it may be a shrewd temptation,and perchance the monks may rid themselves of trouble and cumber,by handing me over the march to Sir John Foster or Lord Hundson, theEnglish wardens, and so make peace with their vassals and with Englandat once. Fairest Molinara, I will for once walk by thy rede, and if thoudost contrive to extricate me from this vile kennel, I will so celebratethy wit and beauty, that the Baker's nymph of Raphael d'Urbino shallseem but a gipsey in comparison of my Molinara."

  "I pray you, then, be silent," said the Miller's daughter; "for if yourspeech betrays that you are awake, my scheme fails utterly, and it isHeaven's mercy and Our Lady's that we are not already overheard anddiscovered."

  "I am silent," replied the Southron, "even as the starless night--butyet--if this contrivance of thine should endanger thy safety, fair andno less kind than fair damsel, it were utterly unworthy of me to acceptit at thy hand."

  "Do not think of me," said Mysie, hastily; "I am safe--I will takethought for myself, if I once saw you out of this dangerous dwelling--ifyou would provide yourself with any part of your apparel or goods, loseno time."

  The knight _did_, however, lose some time, ere he could settle in hisown mind what to take and what to abandon of his wardrobe, each articleof which seemed endeared to him by recollection of the feasts and revelsat which it had been exhibited. For some little while Mysie left himto make his selections at leisure, for she herself had also somepreparations to make for flight. But when, returning from the chamberinto which she had retired, with a small bundle in her hand, she foundhim still indecisive, she insisted in plain terms, that he should eithermake up his baggage for the enterprise, or give it up entirely. Thusurged, the disconsolate knight hastily made up a few clothes into abundle, regarded his trunk-mails with a mute expression of partingsorrow, and intimated his readiness to wait upon his kind guide.

  She led the way to the door of the apartment, having first carefullyextinguished her lamp, and motioning to the knight to stand close behindher, tapped once or twice at the door. She was at length answered byEdward Glendinning, who demanded to know who knocked within, and whatwas desired.

  "Speak low," said Mysie Happer, "or you will awaken the English knight.It is I, Mysie Happer, who knock--I wish to get out--you have locked meup--and I was obliged to wait till the Southron slept."

  "Locked you up!" replied Edward, in surprise.

  "Yes," answered the Miller's daughter, "you have locked me up into thisroom--I was in Mary Avenel's sleeping apartment."

  "And can you not remain there till morning," replied Edward, "since ithas so chanced?"

  "What!" said the Miller's daughter, in a tone of offended delicacy, "Iremain here a moment longer than I can get out without discovery!--Iwould not, for all the Halidome of St. Mary's, remain a minute longer inthe neighbourhood of a man's apartment than I can help it--For whom,or for what do you hold me? I promise you my father's daughter has beenbetter brought up than to put in peril her good name."

  "Come forth then, and get to thy chamber in silence," said Edward. Sosaying, he undid the bolt. The staircase without was in utter darkness,as Mysie had before ascertained. So soon as she stept out, she took holdof Edward as if to support herself, thus interposing her person betwixthim and Sir Piercie Shaffcon, by whom she was closely followed. Thusscreened from observation, the Englishman slipped past on tiptoe, unshodand in silence, while the damsel complained to Edward that she wanted alight.

  "I cannot get you a light," said he, "for I cannot leave this post; butthere is a fire below."

  "I will sit below till morning," said the Maid of the Mill; and,tripping down stairs, heard Edward bolt and bar the door of the nowtenantless apartment with vain caution.

  At the foot of the stair which she descended, she found the object ofher care waiting her farther directions. She recommended to him the mostabsolute silence, which, for once in his life, he seemed not unwillingto observe, conducted him, with as much caution as if he were walking oncracked ice, to a dark recess, used for depositing wood, and instructedhim to ensconce himself behind the fagots. She herself lighted her lamponce more at the kitchen fire, and took her distaff and spindle, thatshe might not seem to be unemployed, in case any one came into theapartment.

  From time to time, however, she stole towards the window on tiptoe, tocatch the first glance of the dawn, for the farther prosecution of heradventurous project. At length she saw, to her great joy, the
first peepof the morning brighten upon the gray clouds of the east, and, claspingher hands together, thanked Our Lady for the sight, and imploredprotection during the remainder of her enterprise. Ere she had finishedher prayer, she started at feeling a man's arm across her shoulder,while a rough voice spoke in her ear--"What! menseful Mysie of the Millso soon at her prayers?--now, benison on the bonny eyes that open soearly!--I'll have a kiss for good morrow's sake."

  Dan of the Howlet-hirst, for he was the gallant who paid Mysie thiscompliment, suited the action with the word, and the action, as is usualin such cases of rustic gallantry, was rewarded with a cuff, whichDan received as a fine gentleman receives a tap with a fan, but which,delivered by the energetic arm of the Miller's maiden, would havecertainly astonished a less robust gallant.

  "How now, Sir Coxcomb!" said she, "and must you be away from your guardover the English knight, to plague quiet folks with your horse-tricks!"

  "Truly you are mistaken, pretty Mysie," said the clown, "for I have notyet relieved Edward at his post; and were it not a shame to let him stayany longer, by my faith, I could find it in my heart not to quit youthese two hours."

  "Oh, you have hours and hours enough to see any one," said Mysie; "butyou must think of the distress of the household even now, and get Edwardto sleep for a while, for he has kept watch this whole night."

  "I will have another kiss first," answered Dan of the Howlet-hirst.

  But Mysie was now on her guard, and, conscious of the vicinity of thewood-hole, offered such strenuous resistance, that the swain cursed thenymph's bad humour with very unpastoral phrase and emphasis, and ran upstairs to relieve the guard of his comrade. Stealing to the door, sheheard the new sentinel hold a brief conversation with Edward, afterwhich the latter withdrew, and the former entered upon the duties of hiswatch.

  Mysie suffered him to walk there a little while undisturbed, until thedawning became more general, by which time she supposed he might havedigested her coyness, and then presenting herself before the watchfulsentinel, demanded of him "the keys of the outer tower, and of thecourtyard gate."

  "And for what purpose?" answered the warder.

  "To milk the cows, and drive them out to their pasture," said Mysie;"you would not have the poor beasts kept in the byre a' morning, and thefamily in such distress, that there is na ane fit to do a turn but thebyre-woman and myself?"

  "And where is the byre-woman?" said Dan.

  "Sitting with me in the kitchen, in case these distressed folks want anything."

  "There are the keys, then, Mysie Dorts," said the sentinel.

  "Many thanks, Dan Ne'er-do-weel," answered the Maid of the Mill, andescaped down stairs in a moment.

  To hasten to the wood-hole, and there to robe the English knight in ashort gown and petticoat, which she had provided for the purpose, wasthe work of another moment. She then undid the gates of the tower, andmade towards the byre, or cow-house, which stood in one corner of thecourtyard. Sir Piercie Shafton remonstrated against the delay which thiswould occasion.

  "Fair and generous Molinara," he said, "had we not better undo theoutward gate, and make the best of our way hence, even like a pair ofsea-mews who make towards shelter of the rocks as the storm waxes high?"

  "We must drive out the cows first," said Mysie, "for a sin it were tospoil the poor widow's cattle, both for her sake and the poor beasts'own; and I have no mind any one shall leave the tower in a hurry tofollow us. Besides, you must have your horse, for you will need a fleetone ere all be done."

  So saying, she locked and double-locked both the inward and outward doorof the tower, proceeded to the cow-house, turned out the cattle, and,giving the knight his own horse to lead, drove them before her out atthe court-yard gate, intending to return for her own palfrey. But thenoise attending the first operation caught the wakeful attention ofEdward, who, starting to the bartizan, called to know what the matterwas.

  Mysie answered with great readiness, that "she was driving out the cows,for that they would be spoiled for want of looking to."

  "I thank thee, kind maiden," said Edward--"and yet," he added, after amoment's pause, "what damsel is that thou hast with thee?"

  Mysie was about to answer, when Sir Piercie Shafton, who apparentlydid not desire that the great work of his liberation should be executedwithout the interposition of his own ingenuity, exclaimed from beneath,"I am she, O most bucolical juvenal, under whose charge are placed themilky mothers of the herd."

  "Hell and darkness!" exclaimed Edward, in a transport of furyand astonishment, "it is Piercie Shafton--What! treason!treason!--ho!--Dan--Jasper--Martin--the villain escapes!"

  "To horse! to horse!" cried Mysie, and in an instant mounted behind theknight, who was already in the saddle.

  Edward caught up a cross-bow, and let fly a bolt, which whistled sonear Mysie's ear, that she called to her companion,--"Spur--spur, SirKnight!--the next will not miss us.--Had it been Halbert instead ofEdward who bent that bow, we had been dead."

  The knight pressed his horse, which dashed past the cows, and down theknoll on which the tower was situated. Then taking the road down thevalley, the gallant animal, reckless of its double burden, soon conveyedthem out of hearing of the tumult and alarm with which their departurefilled the Tower of Glendearg.

  Thus it strangely happened, that two men were flying in differentdirections at the same time, each accused of being the other's murderer.