Waverley Novels — Volume 12

by Walter Scott

  CHAPTER THE SEVENTEENTH.

  The ground which they traversed was, as Lady Augusta could feel, verybroken and uneven, and sometimes, as she thought, encumbered withruins, which were difficult to surmount. The strength of her comradeassisted her forward on such occasions; but his help was so roughlyadministered, that the lady once or twice, in fear or suffering, wascompelled to groan or sigh heavily, whatever was her desire to suppresssuch evidence of the apprehension which she underwent, or the painwhich she endured. Presently, upon an occasion of this kind, she wasdistinctly sensible that the rough woodsman was removed from her side,and another of the party substituted in his stead, whose voice, moregentle than that of his companions, she thought she had lately heard.

  "Noble lady," were the words, "fear not the slightest injury at ourhands, and accept of my ministry instead of that of my henchman, whohas gone forward with our letter; do not think me presuming on mysituation if I bear you in my arms through ruins where you could noteasily move alone and blindfold."

  At the same time the Lady Augusta Berkely felt herself raised from theearth in the strong arms of a man, and borne onward with the utmostgentleness, without the necessity of making those painful exertionswhich had been formerly required. She was ashamed of her situation;but, however delicate, it was no time to give vent to complaints, whichmight have given offence to persons whom it was her interest toconciliate. She, therefore, submitted to necessity, and heard thefollowing words whispered in her ear.

  "Fear nothing; there is no evil intended you; nor shall Sir John deWalton, if he loves you as you deserve at his hand, receive any harm onour part. We call on him but to do justice to ourselves and to you; andbe assured you will best accomplish your own happiness by aiding ourviews, which are equally in favour of your wishes and your freedom."

  The Lady Augusta would have made some answer to this, but her breath,betwixt fear and the speed with which she was transported, refused topermit her to use intelligible accents. Meantime she began to besensible that she was enclosed within some building, and probably aruinous one--for although the mode of her transportation no longerpermitted her to ascertain the nature of her path in any respectdistinctly, yet the absence of the external air--which was, however,sometimes excluded, and sometimes admitted in furious gusts--intimatedthat she was conducted through buildings partly entire, and in otherplaces admitting the wind through wide rents and gaps. In one place itseemed to the lady as if she passed through a considerable body ofpeople, all of whom observed silence, although there was sometimesheard among them a murmur, to which every one present in some degreecontributed, although the general sound did not exceed a whisper. Hersituation made her attend to every circumstance, and she did not failto observe that these persons made way for him who bore her, until atlength she became sensible that he descended by the regular steps of astair, and that she was now alone excepting his company. Arrived, as itappeared to the lady, on more level ground, they proceeded on theirsingular road by a course which appeared neither direct nor easy, andthrough an atmosphere which was close to a smothering degree, and feltat the same time damp and disagreeable, as if from the vapours of anew-made grave. Her guide again spoke.

  "Bear up, Lady Augusta, for a little longer, and continue to endurethat atmosphere which must be one day common to us all. By thenecessity of my situation, I must resign my present office to youroriginal guide, and can only give you my assurance, that neither he,nor any one else, shall offer you the least incivility or insult--andon this you may rely, on the faith of a man of honour."

  He placed her, as he said these words, upon the soft turf, and, to herinfinite refreshment, made her sensible that she was once more in theopen air, and free from the smothering atmosphere which had beforeoppressed her like that of a charnel-house. At the same time, shebreathed in a whisper an anxious wish that she might be permitted todisencumber herself from the folds of the mantle which excluded almostthe power of breathing, though intended only to prevent her seeing bywhat road she travelled. She immediately found it unfolded, agreeablyto her request, and hastened, with uncovered eyes, to take note of thescene around her.

  It was overshadowed by thick oak trees, among which stood some remnantsof buildings, or what might have seemed such, being perhaps the same inwhich she had been lately wandering. A clear fountain of living waterbubbled forth from under the twisted roots of one of those trees, andoffered the lady the opportunity of a draught of the pure element, andin which she also bathed her face, which had received more than onescratch in the course of her journey, in spite of the care, and almostthe tenderness, with which she had latterly been borne along. The coolwater speedily stopt the bleeding of those trifling injuries, and theapplication served at the same time to recall the scattered senses ofthe damsel herself. Her first idea was, whether an attempt to escape,if such should appear possible, was not advisable. A moment'sreflection, however, satisfied her that such a scheme was not to bethought of; and such second thoughts were confirmed by the approach ofthe gigantic form of the huntsman Turnbull, the rough tones of whosevoice were heard before his figure was obvious to her eye.

  "Were you impatient for my return, fair lady? Such as I," he continuedin an ironical tone of voice, "who are foremost in the chase of wildstags and silvan cattle, are not in use to lag behind, when fairladies, like you, are the objects of pursuit; and if I am not soconstant in my attendance as you might expect, believe me, it isbecause I was engaged in another matter, to which I must sacrifice fora little even the duty of attending on you."

  "I offer no resistance," said the lady; "forbear, however, indischarging thy duty, to augment my uneasiness by thy conversation, forthy master hath pledged me his word that he will not suffer me to bealarmed or ill treated."

  "Nay, fair one," replied the huntsman, "I ever thought it was fit tomake interest by soft words with fair ladies; but if you like it not, Ihave no such pleasure in hunting for fine holyday terms, but that I canwith equal ease hold myself silent. Come, then, since we must wait uponthis lover of yours ere morning closes, and learn his last resolutiontouching a matter which is become so strangely complicated, I will holdno more intercourse with you as a female, but talk to you as a personof sense, although an Englishwoman."

  "You will," replied the lady, "best fulfil the intentions of those bywhose orders you act, by holding no society with me whatever, otherwisethan is necessary in the character of guide."

  The man lowered his brows, yet seemed to assent to what the Lady ofBerkely proposed, and remained silent as they for some time pursuedtheir course, each pondering over their own share of meditation, whichprobably turned upon matters essentially different. At length the loudblast of a bugle was heard at no great distance from the unsocialfellow-travellers.

  "That is the person we seek," said Turnbull; "I know his blast from anyother who frequents this forest, and my orders are to bring you tospeech of him."

  The blood darted rapidly through the lady's veins at the thought ofbeing thus unceremoniously presented to the knight, in whose favour shehad confessed a rash preference more agreeable to the manners of thosetimes, when exaggerated sentiments often inspired actions ofextravagant generosity, than in our days, when every thing is accountedabsurd which does not turn upon a motive connected with the immediateselfish interests of the actor himself. When Turnbull, therefore,winded his horn, as if in answer to the blast which they had heard, thelady was disposed to fly at the first impulse of shame and of fear.Turnbull perceived her intention, and caught hold of her with no verygentle grasp, saying--"Nay, lady, it is to be understood that you playyour own part in the drama, which, unless you continue on the stage,will conclude unsatisfactorily to us all, in a combat at outrancebetween your lover and me, when it will appear which of us is mostworthy of your favour."

  "I will be patient," said the lady, bethinking her that even thisstrange man's presence, and the compulsion which he appeared to usetowards her, was a sort of excuse to her female scruples, for cominginto the presence of her lover,
at least at her first appearance beforehim, in a disguise which her feelings confessed was not extremelydecorous, or reconcilable to the dignity of her sex.

  The moment after these thoughts had passed through her mind, the trampof a horse was heard approaching; and Sir John de Walton, pressingthrough the trees, became aware of the presence of his lady, captive,as it seemed, in the grasp of a Scottish outlaw, who was only known tohim by his former audacity at the hunting-match.

  His surprise and joy only supplied the knight with those hastyexpressions--"Caitiff, let go thy hold! or die in thy profane attemptto control the motions of one whom the very sun in heaven should beproud to obey." At the same time, apprehensive that the huntsman mighthurry the lady from his sight by means of some entangled path--such asupon a former occasion had served him for escape Sir John de Waltondropt his cumbrous lance, of which the trees did not permit him theperfect use, and springing from his horse, approached Turnbull with hisdrawn sword.

  The Scotchman, keeping his left hand still upon the lady's mantle,uplifted with his right his battle-axe, or Jedwood staff, for thepurpose of parrying and returning the blow of his antagonist, but thelady spoke.

  "Sir John de Walton," she said, "for heaven's sake, forbear allviolence, till you hear upon what pacific object I am brought hither,and by what peaceful means these wars may be put an end to. This man,though an enemy of yours, has been to me a civil and respectfulguardian; and I entreat you to forbear him while he speaks the purposefor which he has brought me hither."

  "To speak of compulsion and the Lady de Berkely in the same breath,would itself be cause enough for instant death," said the Governor ofDouglas Castle; "but you command, lady, and I spare his insignificantlife, although I have causes of complaint against him, the least ofwhich were good warrant, had he a thousand lives, for the forfeiture ofthem all."

  "John de Walton," replied Turnbull, "this lady well knows that no fearof thee operates in my mind to render this a peaceful meeting; and wereI not withheld by other circumstances of great consideration to theDouglas as well as thyself, I should have no more fear in facing theutmost thou couldst do, than I have now in levelling that sapling tothe earth it grows upon."

  So saying, Michael Turnbull raised his battle-axe, and struck from aneighbouring oak-tree a branch, wellnigh as thick as a man's arm, which(with all its twigs and leaves) rushed to the ground between De Waltonand the Scotchman, giving a singular instance of the keenness of hisweapon, and the strength and dexterity with which he used it.

  "Let there be truce, then, between us, good fellow," said Sir John deWalton, "since it is the lady's pleasure that such should be the case,and let me know what thou hast to say to me respecting her?"

  "On that subject," said Turnbull, "my words are few, but mark them, SirEnglishman. The Lady Augusta Berkely, wandering in this country, hasbecome a prisoner of the noble Lord Douglas, the rightful inheritor ofthe Castle and lordship, and he finds himself obliged to attach to theliberty of this lady the following conditions, being in all respectssuch as good and lawful warfare entitles a knight to exact. That is tosay, in all honour and safety the Lady Augusta shall be delivered toSir John de Walton, or those whom he shall name, for the purpose ofreceiving her. On the other hand, the Castle of Douglas itself,together with all out-posts or garrisons thereunto belonging, shall bemade over and surrendered by Sir John de Walton, in the same situation,and containing the same provisions and artillery, as are now withintheir walls; and the space of a month of truce shall be permitted toSir James Douglas and Sir John de Walton farther to regulate the termsof surrender on both parts, having first plighted their knightly wordand oath, that in the exchange of the honourable lady for the foresaidcastle, lies the full import of the present agreement, and that everyother subject of dispute shall, at the pleasure of the noble knightsforesaid, be honourably compounded and agreed betwixt them; or at theirpleasure, settled knightly by single combat according to usage, and ina fair field, before any honourable person, that may possess powerenough to preside."

  It is not easy to conceive the astonishment of Sir John de Walton athearing the contents of this extraordinary cartel; he looked towardsthe Lady of Berkely with that aspect of despair with which a criminalmay be supposed to see his guardian angel prepare for departure.Through her mind also similar ideas flowed, as if they contained aconcession of what she had considered as the summit of her wishes, butunder conditions disgraceful to her lover, like the cherub's fierysword of yore, which was a barrier between our first parents and theblessings of Paradise. Sir John de Walton, after a moment's hesitation,broke silence in these words:--

  "Noble lady, you may be surprised if a condition be imposed upon me,having for its object your freedom; and if Sir John de Walton, alreadystanding under those obligations to you, which he is proud ofacknowledging, should yet hesitate on accepting, with the utmosteagerness, what must ensure your restoration to freedom andindependence; but so it is, that the words now spoken have thrilled inmine ear without reaching to my understanding, and I must pray the Ladyof Berkely for pardon if I take time to reconsider them for a shortspace."

  "And I," replied Turnbull, "have only power to allow you half an hourfor the consideration of an offer, in accepting which, methinks, youshould jump shoulder-height instead of asking any time for reflection.What does this cartel exact, save what your duty as a knight implicitlyobliges you to? You have engaged yourself to become the agent of thetyrant Edward, in holding Douglas Castle, as his commander, to theprejudice of the Scottish nation, and of the Knight of Douglas Dale,who never, as a community or as an individual, were guilty of the leastinjury towards you; you are therefore prosecuting a false path,unworthy of a good knight. On the other hand, the freedom and safety ofyour lady is now proposed to be pledged to you, with a full assuranceof her liberty and honour, on consideration of your withdrawing fromthe unjust line of conduct, in which you have suffered yourself to beimprudently engaged. If you persevere in it, you place your own honour,and the lady's happiness, in the hands of men whom you have doneeverything in your power to render desperate, and whom, thus irritated,it is most probable you may find such."

  "It is not from thee at least," said the knight, "that I shall learn toestimate the manner in which Douglas will explain the laws of war, orDe Walton receive them at his dictating."

  "I am not, then," said Turnbull, "received as a friendly messenger?Farewell, and think of this lady as being in any hands but those whichare safe, while you make up at leisure your mind upon the message Ihave brought you. Come, madam, we must be gone."

  So saying, he seized upon the lady's hand, and pulled her, as if toforce her to withdraw. The lady had stood motionless, and almostsenseless, while these speeches were exchanged between the warriors;but when she felt the grasp of Michael Turnbull, she exclaimed, likeone almost beside herself with fear--"Help me, De Walton!"

  The knight, stung to instant rage, assaulted the forester with theutmost fury, and dealt him with his long sword, almost at unawares, twoor three heavy blows, by which he was so wounded that he sunk backwardsin the thicket, and. De Walton was about to despatch him, when he wasprevented by the anxious cry of the lady--"Alas! De Walton, what haveyou done? This man was only an ambassador, and should have passed freefrom injury, while he confined himself to the delivery of what he wascharged with; and if thou hast slain him, who knows how frightful mayprove the vengeance exacted!"

  The voice of the lady seemed to recover the huntsman from the effectsof the blows he had received: he sprung on his feet, saying--"Nevermind me, nor think of my becoming the means of making mischief. Theknight, in his haste, spoke without giving me warning and defiance,which gave him an advantage which, I think, he would otherwise havescorned to have taken, in such a case, I will renew the combat onfairer terms, or call another champion, as the knight pleases." Withthese words he disappeared.

  "Fear not, empress of De Walton's thoughts," answered the knight, "butbelieve, that if we regain together the shelter of Douglas Castle, andthe safegua
rd of Saint George's Cross, thou may'st laugh at all. And ifyou can but pardon, what I shall never be able to forgive myself, themole-like blindness which did not recognise the sun while under atemporary eclipse, the task cannot be named too hard for mortal valourto achieve which I shall not willingly undertake, to wipe out thememory of my grievous fault."

  "Mention it no more," said the lady; "it is not at such a timeas--this, when our lives are for the moment at stake, that quarrelsupon slighter topics are to be recurred to. I can tell you, if you donot yet know, that the Scots are in arms in this vicinity, and thateven the earth has yawned to conceal them from the sight of yourgarrison."

  "Let it yawn, then," said Sir John de Walton, "and suffer every fiendin the infernal abyss to escape from his prison-house and reinforce ourenemies--still, fairest, having received in thee a pearl of matchlessprice, my spurs shall be hacked from my heels by the basest scullion,if I turn my horse's head to the rear before the utmost force theseruffians can assemble, either upon earth or from underneath it. In thyname I defy them all to instant combat."

  As Sir John de Walton pronounced these last words, in something of anexalted tone, a tall cavalier, arrayed in black armour of the simplestform, stepped forth from that part of the thicket where Turnbull haddisappeared. "I am," he said, "James of Douglas, and your challenge isaccepted. I, the challenged, name the arms our knightly weapons as wenow wear them, and our place of combat this field or dingle, called theBloody Sykes, the time being instant, and the combatants, like trueknights, foregoing each advantage on either side." [Footnote: Theominous name of Bloodmire-sink or Syke, marks a narrow hollow to thenorth-west of Douglas Castle, from which it is distant about the thirdof a mile. Mr. Haddow states, that according to local tradition, thename was given in consequence of Sir James Douglas having at this spotintercepted and slain part of the garrison of the castle, while DeWalton was in command.]

  "So be it, in God's name," said the English knight, who, thoughsurprised at being called upon to so sudden an encounter with soformidable a warrior as young Douglas, was too proud to dream ofavoiding the combat. Making a sign to the lady to retire behind him,that he might not lose the advantage which he had gained by setting herat liberty from the forester, he drew his sword, and with a deliberateand prepared attitude of offence, moved slowly to the encounter. It wasa dreadful one, for the courage and skill both of the native Lord ofDouglas Dale, and of De Walton, among the most renowned of the times,and perhaps the world of chivalry could hardly have produced twoknights more famous. Their blows fell as if urged by some mightyengine, where they were met and parried with equal strength anddexterity; nor seemed it likely, in the course of ten minutes'encounter, that an advantage would be gained by either combatant overthe other. An instant they stopped by mutually implied assent, as itseemed, for the purpose of taking breath, during which Douglas said, "Ibeg that this noble lady may understand, that her own freedom is no wayconcerned in the present contest, which entirely regards the injusticedone by this Sir John de Walton, and by his nation of England, to thememory of my father, and to my own natural rights."

  "You are generous, Sir Knight," replied the lady; "but in whatcircumstances do you place me, if you deprive me of my protector bydeath or captivity, and leave me alone in a foreign land?"

  "If such should be the event of the combat," replied Sir James, "theDouglas himself, lady, will safely restore thee to thy native land; fornever did his sword do an injury for which he was not willing to makeamends with the same weapon; and if Sir John de Walton will make theslightest admission that he renounces maintaining the present strife,were it only by yielding up a feather from the plume of his helmet,Douglas will renounce every purpose on his part which can touch thelady's honour or safety, and the combat may be suspended until thenational quarrel again brings us together."

  Sir John de Walton pondered a moment, and the lady, although she didnot speak, looked at him with eyes which plainly expressed how much shewished that he would choose the less hazardous alternative. But theknight's own scruples prevented his bringing the case to so favourablean arbitrement.

  "Never shall it be said of Sir John de Walton," he replied, "that hecompromised, in the slightest degree, his own honour, or that of hiscountry. This battle may end in my defeat, or rather death, and in thatcase my earthly prospects are closed, and I resign to Douglas, with mylast breath, the charge of the Lady Augusta, trusting that he willdefend her with his life, and find the means of replacing her withsafety in the halls of her fathers. But while I survive, she may have abetter, but will not need another protector than he who is honoured bybeing her own choice; nor will I yield up, were it a plume from myhelmet, implying that I have maintained an unjust quarrel, either inthe cause of England, or of the fairest of her daughters. Thus faralone I will concede to Douglas--an instant truce, provided the ladyshall not be interrupted in her retreat to England, and the combat befought out upon another day. The castle and territory of Douglas is theproperty of Edward of England, the governor in his name is the rightfulgovernor, and on this point I will fight while my eyelids are unclosed."

  "Time flies," said Douglas, "without waiting for our resolves; nor isthere any part of his motions of such value as that which is passingwith every breath of vital air which we presently draw. Why should weadjourn till to-morrow that which can be as well finished today? Willour swords be sharper, or our arms stronger to wield them, than theyare at this moment? Douglas will do all which knight can do to succoura lady in distress; but he will not grant to her knight the slightestmark of deference, which Sir John de Walton vainly supposes himselfable to extort by force of arms."

  With these words, the knights engaged once more in mortal combat, andthe lady felt uncertain whether she should attempt her escape throughthe devious paths of the wood, or abide the issue of this obstinatefight. It was rather her desire to see the fate of Sir John de Walton,than any other consideration, which induced her to remain, as iffascinated, upon the spot, where one of the fiercest quarrels everfought--was disputed by two of the bravest champions that ever drewsword. At last the lady attempted to put a stop to the combat, byappealing to the bells which began to ring for the service of the day,which was Palm Sunday.

  "For Heaven's sake," she said--"for your own sakes, and for that oflady's love, and the duties of chivalry, hold your hands only for anhour, and take chance, that where strength is so equal, means will befound of converting the truce into a solid peace. Think this is PalmSunday, and will you defile with blood such a peculiar festival ofChristianity! Intermit your feud at least so far as to pass to thenearest church, bearing with you branches, not in the ostentatious modeof earthly conquerors, but as rendering due homage to the rules of theblessed Church, and the institutions of our holy religion."

  "I was on my road, fair lady, for that purpose, to the holy church ofDouglas," said the Englishman, "when I was so fortunate as to meet youat this place; nor do I object to proceed thither even, now, holdingtruce for an hour, and I fear not to find there friends to whom I cancommit you with assurance of safety, in case I am unfortunate in thecombat which is now broken off, to be resumed after the service of theday."

  "I also assent," said the Douglas, "to a truce for such short space;nor do I fear that there may be good Christians enough at the church,who will not see their master overpowered by odds. Let us go thither,and each take the chance of what Heaven shall please to send us."

  From these words Sir John de Walton little doubted that Douglas hadassured himself of a party among those who should there assemble; buthe doubted not of so many of the garrison being present as would bridleevery attempt at rising; and the risk, he thought, was worth incurring,since ha should thereby secure an opportunity to place Lady Augusta deBerkely in safety, at least so far as to make her liberty depend on theevent of a general conflict, instead of the precarious issue of acombat between himself and Douglas.

  Both these distinguished knights were inwardly of opinion, that theproposal of the lady, though it relieved them
from their presentconflict, by no means bound them to abstain from the consequences whichan accession of force might add to their general strength, and eachrelied upon his superiority, in some degree provided for by theirprevious proceedings. Sir John de Walton made almost certain of meetingwith several of his bands of soldiers, who were scouring the countryand traversing the woods by his direction; and Douglas, it may besupposed, had not ventured himself in person, where a price was setupon his head, without being attended by a sufficient number ofapproved adherents, placed in more or less connexion with each other,and stationed for mutual support. Each, therefore, entertainedwell-grounded hopes, that by adopting the truce proposed, he wouldensure himself an advantage over his antagonist, although neitherexactly knew in what manner or to what extent this success was to beobtained.