The Fair Maid of Perth; Or, St. Valentine's Day Read online

  CHAPTER IV.

  What's all this turmoil crammed into our parts? Faith, but the pit-a-pat of poor young hearts.

  DRYDEN.

  The sturdy armourer was not, it may be believed, slack in keeping theappointment assigned by his intended father in law. He went through theprocess of his toilet with more than ordinary care, throwing, as far ashe could, those points which had a military air into the shade. He wasfar too noted a person to venture to go entirely unarmed in a town wherehe had indeed many friends, but also, from the character of many of hisformer exploits, several deadly enemies, at whose hands, should theytake him at advantage, he knew he had little mercy to expect. Hetherefore wore under his jerkin a "secret," or coat of chain mail, madeso light and flexible that it interfered as little with his movementsas a modern under waistcoat, yet of such proof as he might safely dependupon, every ring of it having been wrought and joined by his own hands.Above this he wore, like others of his age and degree, the Flemishhose and doublet, which, in honour of the holy tide, were of the bestsuperfine English broadcloth, light blue in colour, slashed out withblack satin, and passamented (laced, that is) with embroidery of blacksilk. His walking boots were of cordovan leather; his cloak of goodScottish grey, which served to conceal a whinger, or couteau de chasse,that hung at his belt, and was his only offensive weapon, for he carriedin his hand but a rod of holly. His black velvet bonnet was lined withsteel, quilted between the metal and his head, and thus constituted ameans of defence which might safely be trusted to.

  Upon the whole, Henry had the appearance, to which he was well entitled,of a burgher of wealth and consideration, assuming, in his dress, asmuch consequence as he could display without stepping beyond his ownrank, and encroaching on that of the gentry. Neither did his frank andmanly deportment, though indicating a total indifference to danger, bearthe least resemblance to that of the bravoes or swashbucklers of theday, amongst whom Henry was sometimes unjustly ranked by those whoimputed the frays in which he was so often engaged to a quarrelsome andviolent temper, resting upon a consciousness of his personal strengthand knowledge of his weapon. On the contrary, every feature borethe easy and good-humoured expression of one who neither thought ofinflicting mischief nor dreaded it from others.

  Having attired himself in his best, the honest armourer next placednearest to his heart (which throbbed at its touch) a little gift whichhe had long provided for Catharine Glover, and which his quality ofValentine would presently give him the title to present, and her toreceive, without regard to maidenly scruples. It was a small rubycut into the form of a heart, transfixed with a golden arrow, and wasinclosed in a small purse made of links of the finest work in steel, asif it had been designed for a hauberk to a king. Round the verge of thepurse were these words:

  Loves darts Cleave hearts Through mail shirts.

  This device had cost the armourer some thought, and he was muchsatisfied with his composition, because it seemed to imply that hisskill could defend all hearts saving his own.

  He wrapped himself in his cloak, and hastened through the still silentstreets, determined to appear at the window appointed a little beforedawn.

  With this purpose he passed up the High Street, and turned down theopening where St. John's Church now stands, in order to proceed toCurfew Street; when it occurred to him, from the appearance of the sky,that he was at least an hour too early for his purpose, and that itwould be better not to appear at the place of rendezvous till nearer thetime assigned. Other gallants were not unlikely to be on the watch aswell as himself about the house of the Fair Maid of Perth; and heknew his own foible so well as to be sensible of the great chance of ascuffle arising betwixt them.

  "I have the advantage," he thought, "by my father Simon's friendship;and why should I stain my fingers with the blood of the poor creaturesthat are not worthy my notice, since they are so much less fortunatethan myself? No--no, I will be wise for once, and keep at a distancefrom all temptation to a broil. They shall have no more time to quarrelwith me than just what it may require for me to give the signal, and formy father Simon to answer it. I wonder how the old man will contrive tobring her to the window? I fear, if she knew his purpose, he would findit difficult to carry it into execution."

  While these lover-like thoughts were passing through his brain, thearmourer loitered in his pace, often turning his eyes eastward, andeyeing the firmament, in which no slight shades of grey were beginningto flicker, to announce the approach of dawn, however distant, which, tothe impatience of the stout armourer, seemed on that morning to abstainlonger than usual from occupying her eastern barbican. He was nowpassing slowly under the wall of St. Anne's Chapel (not failing to crosshimself and say an ace, as he trode the consecrated ground), when avoice, which seemed to come from behind one of the flying buttresses ofthe chapel, said, "He lingers that has need to run."

  "Who speaks?" said the armourer, looking around him, somewhat startledat an address so unexpected, both in its tone and tenor.

  "No matter who speaks," answered the same voice. "Do thou make greatspeed, or thou wilt scarce make good speed. Bandy not words, butbegone."

  "Saint or sinner, angel or devil," said Henry, crossing himself, "youradvice touches me but too dearly to be neglected. St. Valentine be myspeed!"

  So saying, he instantly changed his loitering pace to one with which fewpeople could have kept up, and in an instant was in Couvrefew Street.He had not made three steps towards Simon Glover's, which stood in themidst of the narrow street, when two men started from under the houseson different sides, and advanced, as it were by concert, to intercepthis passage. The imperfect light only permitted him to discern that theywore the Highland mantle.

  "Clear the way, cateran," said the armourer, in the deep stern voicewhich corresponded with the breadth of his chest.

  They did not answer, at least intelligibly; but he could see that theydrew their swords, with the purpose of withstanding him by violence.Conjecturing some evil, but of what kind he could not anticipate, Henryinstantly determined to make his way through whatever odds, and defendhis mistress, or at least die at her feet. He cast his cloak over hisleft arm as a buckler, and advanced rapidly and steadily to the two men.The nearest made a thrust at him, but Henry Smith, parrying the blowwith his cloak, dashed his arm in the man's face, and tripping him atthe same time, gave him a severe fall on the causeway; while almost atthe same instant he struck a blow with his whinger at the fellow who wasupon his right hand, so severely applied, that he also lay prostrateby his associate. Meanwhile, the armourer pushed forward in alarm,for which the circumstance of the street being guarded or defendedby strangers who conducted themselves with such violence affordedsufficient reason. He heard a suppressed whisper and a bustle under theglover's windows--those very windows from which he had expected to behailed by Catharine as her Valentine. He kept to the opposite side ofthe street, that he might reconnoitre their number and purpose. Butone of the party who were beneath the window, observing or hearinghim, crossed the street also, and taking him doubtless for one of thesentinels, asked, in a whisper, "What noise was yonder, Kenneth? whygave you not the signal?"

  "Villain," said Henry, "you are discovered, and you shall die thedeath."

  As he spoke thus, he dealt the stranger a blow with his weapon, whichwould probably have made his words good, had not the man, raising hisarm, received on his hand the blow meant for his head. The wound musthave been a severe one, for he staggered and fell with a deep groan.

  Without noticing him farther, Henry Smith sprung forward upon a party ofmen who seemed engaged in placing a ladder against the lattice windowin the gable. Henry did not stop ether to count their numbers or toascertain their purpose. But, crying the alarm word of the town, andgiving the signal at which the burghers were wont to collect, he rushedon the night walkers, one of whom was in the act of ascending theladder. The smith seized it by the rounds, threw it down on thepavement, and placing his foot on the body of the man who had beenmounting, prevented him
from regaining his feet. His accomplices struckfiercely at Henry, to extricate their companion. But his mail coat stoodhim in good stead, and he repaid their blows with interest, shoutingaloud, "Help--help, for bonny St. Johnston! Bows and blades, bravecitizens! bows and blades! they break into our houses under cloud ofnight."

  These words, which resounded far through the streets, were accompaniedby as many fierce blows, dealt with good effect among those whom thearmourer assailed. In the mean time, the inhabitants of the districtbegan to awaken and appear on the street in their shirts, withswords and targets, and some of them with torches. The assailants nowendeavoured to make their escape, which all of them effected exceptingthe man who had been thrown down along with the ladder. Him the intrepidarmourer had caught by the throat in the scuffle, and held as fast asthe greyhound holds the hare. The other wounded men were borne off bytheir comrades.

  "Here are a sort of knaves breaking peace within burgh," said Henryto the neighbours who began to assemble; "make after the rogues. Theycannot all get off, for I have maimed some of them: the blood will guideyou to them."

  "Some Highland caterans," said the citizens; "up and chase, neighbours!"

  "Ay, chase--chase! leave me to manage this fellow," continued thearmourer.

  The assistants dispersed in different directions, their lights flashingand their cries resounding through the whole adjacent district.

  In the mean time the armourer's captive entreated for freedom, usingboth promises and threats to obtain it. "As thou art a gentleman," hesaid, "let me go, and what is past shall be forgiven."

  "I am no gentleman," said Henry--"I am Hal of the Wynd, a burgess ofPerth; and I have done nothing to need forgiveness."

  "Villain, then hast done thou knowest not what! But let me go, and Iwill fill thy bonnet with gold pieces."

  "I shall fill thy bonnet with a cloven head presently," said thearmourer, "unless thou stand still as a true prisoner."

  "What is the matter, my son Harry?" said Simon, who now appeared at thewindow. "I hear thy voice in another tone than I expected. What is allthis noise; and why are the neighbours gathering to the affray?"

  "There have been a proper set of limmers about to scale your windows,father Simon; but I am like to prove godfather to one of them, whom Ihold here, as fast as ever vice held iron."

  "Hear me, Simon Glover," said the prisoner; "let me but speak one wordwith you in private, and rescue me from the gripe of this iron fistedand leaden pated clown, and I will show thee that no harm was designedto thee or thine, and, moreover, tell thee what will much advantagethee."

  "I should know that voice," said Simon Glover, who now came to the doorwith a dark lantern in his hand. "Son Smith, let this young man speakwith me. There is no danger in him, I promise you. Stay but an instantwhere you are, and let no one enter the house, either to attack ordefend. I will be answerable that this galliard meant but some St.Valentine's jest."

  So saying, the old man pulled in the prisoner and shut the door,leaving Henry a little surprised at the unexpected light in which hisfather-in-law had viewed the affray.

  "A jest!" he said; "it might have been a strange jest, if they had gotinto the maiden's sleeping room! And they would have done so, had it notbeen for the honest friendly voice from betwixt the buttresses, which,if it were not that of the blessed saint--though what am I that the holyperson should speak to me?--could not sound in that place without herpermission and assent, and for which I will promise her a wax candle ather shrine, as long as my whinger; and I would I had had my two handedbroadsword instead, both for the sake of St. Johnston and of the rogues,for of a certain those whingers are pretty toys, but more fit for aboy's hand than a man's. Oh, my old two handed Trojan, hadst thou beenin my hands, as thou hang'st presently at the tester of my bed, the legsof those rogues had not carried their bodies so clean off the field. Butthere come lighted torches and drawn swords. So ho--stand! Are you forSt. Johnston? If friends to the bonny burgh, you are well come."

  "We have been but bootless hunters," said the townsmen. "We followed bythe tracks of the blood into the Dominican burial ground, and we startedtwo fellows from amongst the tombs, supporting betwixt them a third, whohad probably got some of your marks about him, Harry. They got to thepostern gate before we could overtake them, and rang the sanctuarybell; the gate opened, and in went they. So they are safe in girth andsanctuary, and we may go to our cold beds and warm us."

  "Ay," said one of the party, "the good Dominicans have always somedevout brother of their convent sitting up to open the gate of thesanctuary to any poor soul that is in trouble, and desires shelter inthe church."

  "Yes, if the poor hunted soul can pay for it," said another "but, truly,if he be poor in purse as well as in spirit, he may stand on the outsidetill the hounds come up with him."

  A third, who had been poring for a few minutes upon the ground byadvantage of his torch, now looked upwards and spoke. He was abrisk, forward, rather corpulent little man, called Oliver Proudfute,reasonably wealthy, and a leading man in his craft, which was that ofbonnet makers; he, therefore, spoke as one in authority.

  "Canst tell us, jolly smith"--for they recognised each other by thelights which were brought into the streets--"what manner of fellows theywere who raised up this fray within burgh?"

  "The two that I first saw," answered the armourer, "seemed to me, aswell as I could observe them, to have Highland plaids about them."

  "Like enough--like enough," answered another citizen, shaking his head."It's a shame the breaches in our walls are not repaired, and that theselandlouping Highland scoundrels are left at liberty to take honest menand women out of their beds any night that is dark enough."

  "But look here, neighbours," said Oliver Proudfute, showing a bloodyhand which he had picked up from the ground; "when did such a hand asthis tie a Highlandman's brogues? It is large, indeed, and bony, butas fine as a lady's, with a ring that sparkles like a gleaming candle.Simon Glover has made gloves for this hand before now, if I am not muchmistaken, for he works for all the courtiers."

  The spectators here began to gaze on the bloody token with variouscomments.

  "If that is the case," said one, "Harry Smith had best show a clean pairof heels for it, since the justiciar will scarce think the protecting aburgess's house an excuse for cutting off a gentleman's hand. There behard laws against mutilation."

  "Fie upon you, that you will say so, Michael Webster," answered thebonnet maker; "are we not representatives and successors of the stoutold Romans, who built Perth as like to their own city as they could? Andhave we not charters from all our noble kings and progenitors, as beingtheir loving liegemen? And would you have us now yield up our rights,privileges, and immunities, our outfang and infang, our handhaband,our back bearand, and our blood suits, and amerciaments, escheats,and commodities, and suffer an honest burgess's house to be assaultedwithout seeking for redress? No, brave citizens, craftsmen, andburgesses, the Tay shall flow back to Dunkeld before we submit to suchinjustice!"

  "And how can we help it?" said a grave old man, who stood leaning on atwo handed sword. "What would you have us do?"

  "Marry, Bailie Craigdallie, I wonder that you, of all men, ask thequestion. I would have you pass like true men from this very placeto the King's Grace's presence, raise him from his royal rest, andpresenting to him the piteous case of our being called forth from ourbeds at this season, with little better covering than these shirts, Iwould show him this bloody token, and know from his Grace's own royallips whether it is just and honest that his loving lieges should be thustreated by the knights and nobles of his deboshed court. And this I callpushing our cause warmly."

  "Warmly, sayst thou?" replied the old burgess; "why, so warmly, that weshall all die of cold, man, before the porter turn a key to let us intothe royal presence. Come, friends, the night is bitter, we have keptour watch and ward like men, and our jolly smith hath given a warning tothose that would wrong us, which shall be worth twenty proclamations ofthe king. Tomorrow i
s a new day; we will consult on this matter on thisself same spot, and consider what measures should be taken for discoveryand pursuit of the villains. And therefore let us dismiss before theheart's blood freeze in our veins."

  "Bravo--bravo, neighbour Craigdallie! St. Johnston for ever!"

  Oliver Proudfute would still have spoken; for he was one of thosepitiless orators who think that their eloquence can overcome allinconveniences in time, place, and circumstances. But no one wouldlisten, and the citizens dispersed to their own houses by the light ofthe dawn, which began now to streak the horizon.

  They were scarce gone ere the door of the glover's house opened, andseizing the smith by the hand, the old man pulled him in.

  "Where is the prisoner?" demanded the armourer.

  "He is gone--escaped--fled--what do I know of him?" said the glover. "Hegot out at the back door, and so through the little garden. Think not ofhim, but come and see the Valentine whose honour and life you have savedthis morning."

  "Let me but sheathe my weapon," said the smith, "let me but wash myhands."

  "There is not an instant to lose, she is up and almost dressed. Comeon, man. She shall see thee with thy good weapon in thy hand, and withvillain's blood on thy fingers, that she may know what is the value of atrue man's service. She has stopped my mouth overlong with her pruderiesand her scruples. I will have her know what a brave man's love is worth,and a bold burgess's to boot."