Old Mortality, Complete Page 6

  CHAPTER III.

  Horseman and horse confess'd the bitter pang, And arms and warrior fell with heavy clang. Pleasures of Hope.

  When the military evolutions had been gone through tolerably well,allowing for the awkwardness of men and of horses, a loud shout announcedthat the competitors were about to step forth for the game of thepopinjay already described. The mast, or pole, having a yard extendedacross it, from which the mark was displayed, was raised amid theacclamations of the assembly; and even those who had eyed the evolutionsof the feudal militia with a sort of malignant and sarcastic sneer, fromdisinclination to the royal cause in which they were professedlyembodied, could not refrain from taking considerable interest in thestrife which was now approaching. They crowded towards the goal, andcriticized the appearance of each competitor, as they advanced insuccession, discharged their pieces at the mark, and had their good orbad address rewarded by the laughter or applause of the spectators. Butwhen a slender young man, dressed with great simplicity, yet not withouta certain air of pretension to elegance and gentility, approached thestation with his fusee in his hand, his dark-green cloak thrown back overhis shoulder, his laced ruff and feathered cap indicating a superior rankto the vulgar, there was a murmur of interest among the spectators,whether altogether favourable to the young adventurer, it was difficultto discover.

  "Ewhow, sirs, to see his father's son at the like o' thae fearlessfollies!" was the ejaculation of the elder and more rigid puritans, whosecuriosity had so far overcome their bigotry as to bring them to theplay-ground. But the generality viewed the strife less morosely, and werecontented to wish success to the son of a deceased presbyterian leader,without strictly examining the propriety of his being a competitor forthe prize.

  Their wishes were gratified. At the first discharge of his piece thegreen adventurer struck the popinjay, being the first palpable hit of theday, though several balls had passed very near the mark. A loud shout ofapplause ensued. But the success was not decisive, it being necessarythat each who followed should have his chance, and that those whosucceeded in hitting the mark, should renew the strife among themselves,till one displayed a decided superiority over the others. Two only ofthose who followed in order succeeded in hitting the popinjay. The firstwas a young man of low rank, heavily built, and who kept his face muffledin his grey cloak; the second a gallant young cavalier, remarkable for ahandsome exterior, sedulously decorated for the day. He had been sincethe muster in close attendance on Lady Margaret and Miss Bellenden, andhad left them with an air of indifference, when Lady Margaret had askedwhether there was no young man of family and loyal principles who woulddispute the prize with the two lads who had been successful. In half aminute, young Lord Evandale threw himself from his horse, borrowed a gunfrom a servant, and, as we have already noticed, hit the mark. Great wasthe interest excited by the renewal of the contest between the threecandidates who had been hitherto successful. The state equipage of theDuke was, with some difficulty, put in motion, and approached more nearto the scene of action. The riders, both male and female, turned theirhorses' heads in the same direction, and all eyes were bent upon theissue of the trial of skill.

  It was the etiquette in the second contest, that the competitors shouldtake their turn of firing after drawing lots. The first fell upon theyoung plebeian, who, as he took his stand, half-uncloaked his rusticcountenance, and said to the gallant in green, "Ye see, Mr Henry, if itwere ony other day, I could hae wished to miss for your sake; but JennyDennison is looking at us, sae I maun do my best."

  He took his aim, and his bullet whistled past the mark so nearly, thatthe pendulous object at which it was directed was seen to shiver. Still,however, he had not hit it, and, with a downcast look, he withdrewhimself from further competition, and hastened to disappear from theassembly, as if fearful of being recognised. The green chasseur nextadvanced, and his ball a second time struck the popinjay. All shouted;and from the outskirts of the assembly arose a cry of, "The good oldcause for ever!"

  While the dignitaries bent their brows at these exulting shouts of thedisaffected, the young Lord Evandale advanced again to the hazard, andagain was successful. The shouts and congratulations of the well-affectedand aristocratical part of the audience attended his success, but still asubsequent trial of skill remained.

  The green marksman, as if determined to bring the affair to a decision,took his horse from a person who held him, having previously lookedcarefully to the security of his girths and the fitting of his saddle,vaulted on his back, and motioning with his hand for the bystanders tomake way, set spurs, passed the place from which he was to fire at agallop, and, as he passed, threw up the reins, turned sideways upon hissaddle, discharged his carabine, and brought down the popinjay. LordEvandale imitated his example, although many around him said it was aninnovation on the established practice, which he was not obliged tofollow. But his skill was not so perfect, or his horse was not so welltrained. The animal swerved at the moment his master fired, and the ballmissed the popinjay. Those who had been surprised by the address of thegreen marksman were now equally pleased by his courtesy. He disclaimedall merit from the last shot, and proposed to his antagonist that itshould not be counted as a hit, and that they should renew the contest onfoot.

  "I would prefer horseback, if I had a horse as well bitted, and,probably, as well broken to the exercise, as yours," said the young Lord,addressing his antagonist.

  "Will you do me the honour to use him for the next trial, on conditionyou will lend me yours?" said the young gentleman.

  Lord Evandale was ashamed to accept this courtesy, as conscious how muchit would diminish the value of victory; and yet, unable to suppress hiswish to redeem his reputation as a marksman, he added, "that although herenounced all pretensions to the honour of the day," (which he saidsome-what scornfully,) "yet, if the victor had no particular objection,he would willingly embrace his obliging offer, and change horses withhim, for the purpose of trying a shot for love."

  As he said so, he looked boldly towards Miss Bellenden, and traditionsays, that the eyes of the young tirailleur travelled, though morecovertly, in the same direction. The young Lord's last trial was asunsuccessful as the former, and it was with difficulty that he preservedthe tone of scornful indifference which he had hitherto assumed. But,conscious of the ridicule which attaches itself to the resentment of alosing party, he returned to his antagonist the horse on which he hadmade his last unsuccessful attempt, and received back his own; giving, atthe same time, thanks to his competitor, who, he said, had re-establishedhis favourite horse in his good opinion, for he had been in great dangerof transferring to the poor nag the blame of an inferiority, which everyone, as well as himself, must now be satisfied remained with the rider.Having made this speech in a tone in which mortification assumed the veilof indifference, he mounted his horse and rode off the ground.

  As is the usual way of the world, the applause and attention even ofthose whose wishes had favoured Lord Evandale, were, upon his decisivediscomfiture, transferred to his triumphant rival.

  "Who is he? what is his name?" ran from mouth to mouth among the gentrywho were present, to few of whom he was personally known. His style andtitle having soon transpired, and being within that class whom a greatman might notice without derogation, four of the Duke's friends, with theobedient start which poor Malvolio ascribes to his imaginary retinue,made out to lead the victor to his presence. As they conducted him intriumph through the crowd of spectators, and stunned him at the same timewith their compliments on his success, he chanced to pass, or rather tobe led, immediately in front of Lady Margaret and her grand-daughter. TheCaptain of the popinjay and Miss Bellenden coloured like crimson, as thelatter returned, with embarrassed courtesy, the low inclination which thevictor made, even to the saddle-bow, in passing her.

  "Do you know that young person?" said Lady Margaret.

  "I--I--have seen him, madam, at my uncle's, and--and else
whereoccasionally," stammered Miss Edith Bellenden.

  "I hear them say around me," said Lady Margaret, "that the young spark isthe nephew of old Milnwood."

  "The son of the late Colonel Morton of Milnwood, who commanded a regimentof horse with great courage at Dunbar and Inverkeithing," said agentleman who sate on horseback beside Lady Margaret.

  "Ay, and who, before that, fought for the Covenanters both atMarston-Moor and Philiphaugh," said Lady Margaret, sighing as shepronounced the last fatal words, which her husband's death gave her suchsad reason to remember.

  "Your ladyship's memory is just," said the gentleman, smiling, "but itwere well all that were forgot now."

  "He ought to remember it, Gilbertscleugh," returned Lady Margaret, "anddispense with intruding himself into the company of those to whom hisname must bring unpleasing recollections."

  "You forget, my dear lady," said her nomenclator, "that the younggentleman comes here to discharge suit and service in name of his uncle.I would every estate in the country sent out as pretty a fellow."

  "His uncle, as well as his umquhile father, is a roundhead, I presume,"said Lady Margaret.

  "He is an old miser," said Gilbertscleugh, "with whom a broad piece wouldat any time weigh down political opinions, and, therefore, althoughprobably somewhat against the grain, he sends the young gentleman toattend the muster to save pecuniary pains and penalties. As for the rest,I suppose the youngster is happy enough to escape here for a day from thedulness of the old house at Milnwood, where he sees nobody but hishypochondriac uncle and the favourite housekeeper."

  "Do you know how many men and horse the lands of Milnwood are rated at?"said the old lady, continuing her enquiry.

  "Two horsemen with complete harness," answered Gilbertscleugh.

  "Our land," said Lady Margaret, drawing herself up with dignity, "hasalways furnished to the muster eight men, cousin Gilbertscleugh, andoften a voluntary aid of thrice the number. I remember his sacred MajestyKing Charles, when he took his disjune at Tillietudlem, was particular inenquiring"--"I see the Duke's carriage in motion," said Gilbertscleugh,partaking at the moment an alarm common to all Lady Margaret's friends,when she touched upon the topic of the royal visit at the familymansion,--"I see the Duke's carriage in motion; I presume your ladyshipwill take your right of rank in leaving the field. May I be permitted toconvoy your ladyship and Miss Bellenden home?--Parties of the wild whigshave been abroad, and are said to insult and disarm the well-affected whotravel in small numbers."

  "We thank you, cousin Gilbertscleugh," said Lady Margaret; "but as weshall have the escort of my own people, I trust we have less need thanothers to be troublesome to our friends. Will you have the goodness toorder Harrison to bring up our people somewhat more briskly; he ridesthem towards us as if he were leading a funeral procession."

  The gentleman in attendance communicated his lady's orders to the trustysteward.

  Honest Harrison had his own reasons for doubting the prudence of thiscommand; but, once issued and received, there was a necessity for obeyingit. He set off, therefore, at a hand-gallop, followed by the butler, insuch a military attitude as became one who had served under Montrose, andwith a look of defiance, rendered sterner and fiercer by the inspiringfumes of a gill of brandy, which he had snatched a moment to bolt to theking's health, and confusion to the Covenant, during the intervals ofmilitary duty. Unhappily this potent refreshment wiped away from thetablets of his memory the necessity of paying some attention to thedistresses and difficulties of his rear-file, Goose Gibbie. No sooner hadthe horses struck a canter, than Gibbie's jack-boots, which the poorboy's legs were incapable of steadying, began to play alternately againstthe horse's flanks, and, being armed with long-rowelled spurs, overcamethe patience of the animal, which bounced and plunged, while poorGibbie's entreaties for aid never reached the ears of the too heedlessbutler, being drowned partly in the concave of the steel cap in which hishead was immersed, and partly in the martial tune of the Gallant Grames,which Mr Gudyill whistled with all his power of lungs.

  The upshot was, that the steed speedily took the matter into his ownhands, and having gambolled hither and thither to the great amusement ofall spectators, set off at full speed towards the huge family-coachalready described. Gibbie's pike, escaping from its sling, had fallen toa level direction across his hands, which, I grieve to say, were seekingdishonourable safety in as strong a grasp of the mane as their musclescould manage. His casque, too, had slipped completely over his face, sothat he saw as little in front as he did in rear. Indeed, if he could, itwould have availed him little in the circumstances; for his horse, as ifin league with the disaffected, ran full tilt towards the solemn equipageof the Duke, which the projecting lance threatened to perforate fromwindow to window, at the risk of transfixing as many in its passage asthe celebrated thrust of Orlando, which, according to the Italian epicpoet, broached as many Moors as a Frenchman spits frogs.

  On beholding the bent of this misdirected career, a panic shout ofmingled terror and wrath was set up by the whole equipage, insides andoutsides, at once, which had the happy effect of averting the threatenedmisfortune. The capricious horse of Goose Gibbie was terrified by thenoise, and stumbling as he turned short round, kicked and plungedviolently as soon as he recovered. The jack-boots, the original cause ofthe disaster, maintaining the reputation they had acquired when worn bybetter cavaliers, answered every plunge by a fresh prick of the spurs,and, by their ponderous weight, kept their place in the stirrups. Not soGoose Gibbie, who was fairly spurned out of those wide and ponderousgreaves, and precipitated over the horse's head, to the infiniteamusement of all the spectators. His lance and helmet had forsaken him inhis fall, and, for the completion of his disgrace, Lady MargaretBellenden, not perfectly aware that it was one of her warriors who wasfurnishing so much entertainment, came up in time to see her diminutiveman-at-arms stripped of his lion's hide,--of the buff-coat, that is, inwhich he was muffled.

  As she had not been made acquainted with this metamorphosis, and couldnot even guess its cause, her surprise and resentment were extreme, norwere they much modified by the excuses and explanations of her stewardand butler. She made a hasty retreat homeward, extremely indignant at theshouts and laughter of the company, and much disposed to vent herdispleasure on the refractory agriculturist whose place Goose Gibbie hadso unhappily supplied. The greater part of the gentry now dispersed, thewhimsical misfortune which had befallen the gens d'armerie ofTillietudlem furnishing them with huge entertainment on their roadhomeward. The horsemen also, in little parties, as their road laytogether, diverged from the place of rendezvous, excepting such as,having tried their dexterity at the popinjay, were, by ancient custom,obliged to partake of a grace-cup with their captain before theirdeparture.