The Monastery

by Walter Scott

  Chapter the Third.

  They lighted down on Tweed water And blew their coals sae het, And fired the March and Teviotdale, All in an evening late. AULD MAITLAND.

  The report soon spread through the patrimony of Saint Mary's and itsvicinity, that the Mistress of Glendearg had received assurance from theEnglish Captain, and that her cattle were not to be driven off, or hercorn burned. Among others who heard this report, it reached the ears ofa lady, who, once much higher in rank than Elspeth Glendinning, was nowby the same calamity reduced to even greater misfortune.

  She was the widow of a brave soldier, Walter Avenel, descended of a veryancient Border family, who once possessed immense estates in Eskdale.These had long since passed from them into other hands, but they stillenjoyed an ancient Barony of considerable extent, not very far from thepatrimony of Saint Mary's, and lying upon the same side of the riverwith the narrow vale of Glendearg, at the head of which was the littletower of the Glendinnings. Here they had lived, bearing a respectablerank amongst the gentry of their province, though neither wealthy norpowerful. This general regard had been much augmented by the skill,courage, and enterprise which had been displayed by Walter Avenel, thelast Baron.

  When Scotland began to recover from the dreadful shock she had sustainedafter the battle of Pinkie-Cleuch, Avenel was one of the first who,assembling a small force, set an example in those bloody and unsparingskirmishes, which showed that a nation, though conquered and overrun byinvaders, may yet wage against them such a war of detail as shall inthe end become fatal to the foreigners. In one of these, however, WalterAvenel fell, and the news which came to the house of his fathers wasfollowed by the distracting intelligence, that a party of Englishmenwere coming to plunder the mansion and lands of his widow, in order, bythis act of terror, to prevent others from following the example of thedeceased.

  The unfortunate lady had no better refuge than the miserable cottageof a shepherd among the hills, to which she was hastily removed, scarceconscious where or for what purpose her terrified attendants wereremoving her and her infant daughter from her own house. Here she wastended with all the duteous service of ancient times by the shepherd'swife, Tibb Tacket, who in better days had been her own bowerwoman. For atime the lady was unconscious of her misery; but when the first stunningeffect of grief was so far passed away that she could form an estimateof her own situation, the widow of Avenel had cause to envy the lot ofher husband in his dark and silent abode. The domestics who had guidedher to her place of refuge, were presently obliged to disperse for theirown safety, or to seek for necessary subsistence; and the shepherd andhis wife, whose poor cottage she shared, were soon after deprived of themeans of affording their late mistress even that coarse sustenancewhich they had gladly shared with her. Some of the English forayershad discovered and driven off the few sheep which had escaped the firstresearches of their avarice. Two cows shared the fate of the remnant oftheir stock; they had afforded the family almost their sole support, andnow famine appeared to stare them in the face.

  "We are broken and beggared now, out and out," said old Martin theshepherd--and he wrung his hands in the bitterness of agony, "thethieves, the harrying thieves I not a cloot left of the haill hirsel!"

  "And to see poor Grizzle and Crumbie," said his wife, "turning backtheir necks to the byre, and routing while the stony-hearted villainswere brogging them on wi' their lances!"

  "There were but four of them," said Martin, "and I have seen the dayforty wad not have ventured this length. But our strength and manhood isgane with our puir maister."

  "For the sake of the holy rood, whisht, man," said the goodwife, "ourleddy is half gane already, as ye may see by that fleightering of theee-lid--a word mair and she's dead outright."

  "I could almost wish," said Martin, "we were a' gane, for what to dopasses my puir wit. I care little for mysell, or you, Tibb,--we can makea fend--work or want--we can do baith, but she can do neither."

  They canvassed their situation thus openly before the lady, convinced bythe paleness of her look, her quivering lip, and dead-set eye, that sheneither heard nor understood what they were saying.

  "There is a way," said the shepherd, "but I kenna if she could bring herheart to it,--there's Simon Glendinning's widow of the glen yonder, hashad assurance from the Southern loons, and nae soldier to steer themfor one cause or other. Now, if the leddy could bow her mind to takequarters with Elspeth Glendinning till better days cast up, nae doubt itwad be doing an honour to the like of her, but----"

  "An honour," answered Tibb, "ay, by my word, sic an honour as wad bepride to her kin mony a lang year after her banes were in the mould. Oh!gudeman, to hear ye even the Lady of Avenel to seeking quarters wi' aKirk-vassal's widow!"

  "Loath should I be to wish her to it," said Martin; "but what may wedo?--to stay here is mere starvation; and where to go, I'm sure I kennae mair than ony tup I ever herded."

  "Speak no more of it," said the widow of Avenel, suddenly joining in theconversation, "I will go to the tower.--Dame Elspeth is of good folk,a widow, and the mother of orphans,--she will give us house-room untilsomething be thought upon. These evil showers make the low bush betterthan no bield."

  "See there, see there," said Martin, "you see the leddy has twice oursense."

  "And natural it is," said Tibb, "seeing that she is convent-bred, andcan lay silk broidery, forby white-seam and shell-work."

  "Do you not think," said the lady to Martin, still clasping her child toher bosom and making it clear from what motives she desired the refuge,"that Dame Glendinning will make us welcome?"

  "Blithely welcome, blithely welcome, my leddy," answered Martin,cheerily, "and we shall deserve a welcome at her hand. Men are scarcenow, my leddy, with these wars; and gie me a thought of time to it, Ican do as good a day's darg as ever I did in my life, and Tibb can sortcows with ony living woman."

  "And muckle mair could I do," said Tibb, "were it ony feasible house;but there will be neither pearlins to mend, nor pinners to busk up, inElspeth Glendinning's."

  "Whisht wi' your pride, woman," said the shepherd; "eneugh you can do,baith outside and inside, an ye set your mind to it; and hard it isif we twa canna work for three folk's meat, forby my dainty wee leddythere. Come awa, come awa, nae use in staying here langer; we have fiveScots miles over moss and muir, and that is nae easy walk for a leddyborn and bred."

  Household stuff there was little or none to remove or care for; anold pony which had escaped the plunderers, owing partly to its pitifulappearance, partly from the reluctance which it showed to be caughtby strangers, was employed to carry the few blankets and other trifleswhich they possessed. When Shagram came to his master's well-knownwhistle, he was surprised to find the poor thing had been wounded,though slightly, by an arrow, which one of the forayers had shot off inanger after he had long chased it in vain.

  "Ay, Shagram," said the old man, as he applied something to the wound,"must you rue the lang-bow as weel as all of us?"

  "What corner in Scotland rues it not!" said the Lady of Avenel.

  "Ay, ay, madam," said Martin, "God keep the kindly Scot from thecloth-yard shaft, and he will keep himself from the handy stroke. Butlet us go our way; the trash that is left I can come back for. There isnae ane to stir it but the good neighbours, and they----"

  "For the love of God, goodman," said his wife, in a remonstrating tone,"haud your peace! Think what ye're saying, and we hae sae muckle wildland to go over before we win to the girth gate."

  The husband nodded acquiescence; for it was deemed highly imprudent tospeak of the fairies, either by their title of _good neighbours_ orby any other, especially when about to pass the places which they weresupposed to haunt.

  [Footnote: This superstition continues to prevail, though one wouldsuppose it must now be antiquated. It is only a year or two since anitinerant puppet show-man, who, disdaining to acknowledge the professionof Gines de Passamonte, called himself an artist from Vauxhall, broughta complaint of
a singular nature before the author, as Sheriff ofSelkirkshire. The singular dexterity with which the show-man hadexhibited the machinery of his little stage, had, upon a Selkirkfair-day, excited the eager curiosity of some mechanics of Galashiels.These men, from no worse motive that could be discovered than a thirstafter knowledge beyond their sphere, committed a burglary upon the barnin which the puppets had been consigned to repose, and carried them offin the nook of their plaids, when returning from Selkirk to their ownvillage.

  "But with the morning cool reflection came."

  The party found, however, they could not make Punch dance, and thatthe whole troop were equally intractable; they had also, perhaps, someapprehensions of the Rhadamanth of the district; and, willing to be quitof their booty, they left the puppets seated in a grove by the side ofthe Ettrick, where they were sure to be touched by the first beams ofthe rising sun. Here a shepherd, who was on foot with sunrise to penhis master's sheep on a field of turnips, to his utter astonishment, sawthis train, profusely gay, sitting in the little grotto. His examinationproceeded thus:--

  _Sheriff_. You saw these gay-looking things? what did you think theywere?

  _Shepherd_. Ou, I am no that free to say what I might think they were.

  _Sheriff_. Come, lad, I must have a direct answer--who did you thinkthey were?

  _Shepherd_. Ou, sir, troth I am no that free to say that I mind wha Imight think they were.

  _Sheriff_. Come, come sir! I ask you distinctly, did you think they werethe fairies you saw?

  _Shepherd_. Indeed, sir, and I winna say but I might think it was theGood Neighbours.

  Thus unwillingly was he brought to allude to the irritable and captiousinhabitants of fairy land.]

  They set forward on their pilgrimage on the last day of October. "Thisis thy birthday, my sweet Mary," said the mother, as a sting of bitterrecollection crossed her mind. "Oh, who could have believed that thehead, which, a few years since, was cradled amongst so many rejoicingfriends, may perhaps this night seek a cover in vain!"

  The exiled family then set forward,--Mary Avenel, a lovely girl betweenfive and six years old, riding gipsy fashion upon Shagram, betwixt twobundles of bedding; the Lady of Avenel walking by the animal's side;Tibb leading the bridle, and old Martin walking a little before, lookinganxiously around him to explore the way.

  Martin's task as guide, after two or three miles' walking, became moredifficult than he himself had expected, or than he was willing to avow.It happened that the extensive range of pasturage, with which he wasconversant, lay to the west, and to get into the little valley ofGlendearg he had to proceed easterly. In the wilder districts ofScotland, the passage from one vale to another, otherwise than bydescending that which you leave, and reascending the other, is oftenvery difficult.--Heights and hollows, mosses and rocks intervene, andall those local impediments which throw a traveller out of his course.So that Martin, however sure of his general direction, became conscious,and at length was forced reluctantly to admit, that he had missed thedirect road to Glendearg, though he insisted they must be very near it."If we can but win across this wide bog," he said, "I shall warrant yeare on the top of the tower." But to get across the bog was a pointof no small difficulty. The farther they ventured into it, thoughproceeding with all the caution which Martin's experience recommended,the more unsound the ground became, until, after they had passed someplaces of great peril, their best argument for going forward came to be,that they had to encounter equal danger in returning. The Lady of Avenelhad been tenderly nurtured, but what will not a woman endure when herchild is in danger? Complaining less of the dangers of the road thanher attendants, who had been inured to such from their infancy, she keptherself close by the side of the pony, watching its every footstep, andready, if it should flounder in the morass, to snatch her little Maryfrom its back. At length they came to a place where the guide greatlyhesitated, for all around him was broken lumps of heath, dividedfrom each other by deep sloughs of black tenacious mire. After greatconsideration, Martin, selecting what he thought the safest path, beganhimself to lead forward Shagram, in order to afford greater security tothe child. But Shagram snorted, laid his ears back, stretched his twofeet forward, and drew his hind feet under him, so as to adopt the bestpossible posture for obstinate resistance, and refused to move one yardin the direction indicated. Old Martin, much puzzled, now hesitatedwhether to exert his absolute authority, or to defer to the contumaciousobstinacy of Shagram, and was not greatly comforted by his wife'sobservation, who, seeing Shagram stare with his eyes, distend hisnostrils, and tremble with terror, hinted that "he surely saw more thanthey could see."

  In this dilemma, the child suddenly exclaimed--"Bonny leddy signs tous to come yon gate." They all looked in the direction where the childpointed, but saw nothing, save a wreath, of rising mist, which fancymight form into a human figure; but which afforded to Martin only thesorrowful conviction, that the danger of their situation was about to beincreased by a heavy fog. He once more essayed to lead forward Shagram;but the animal was inflexible in its determination not to move in thedirection Martin recommended. "Take your awn way for it, then," saidMartin, "and let us see what you can do for us."

  Shagram, abandoned to the discretion of his own free-will, set offboldly in the direction the child had pointed. There was nothingwonderful in this, nor in its bringing them safe to the other side ofthe dangerous morass; for the instinct of these animals in traversingbogs is one of the most curious parts of their nature, and is a factgenerally established. But it was remarkable, that the child more thanonce mentioned the beautiful lady and her signals, and that Shagramseemed to be in the secret, always moving in the same direction whichshe indicated. The Lady of Avenel took little notice at the time, hermind being probably occupied by the instant danger; but her attendantschanged expressive looks with each other more than once.

  "All-Hallow Eve!" said Tibb, in a whisper to Martin.

  "For the mercy of Our Lady, not a word of that now!" said Martin inreply. "Tell your beads, woman, if you cannot be silent."

  When they got once more on firm ground, Martin recognized certainland-marks, or cairns, on the tops of the neighbouring hills, by whichhe was enabled to guide his course, and ere long they arrived at theTower of Glendearg.

  It was at the sight of this little fortalice that the misery of her lotpressed hard on the poor Lady of Avenel. When by any accident they hadmet at church, market, or other place of public resort, she rememberedthe distant and respectful air with which the wife of the warlike baronwas addressed by the spouse of the humble feuar. And now, so much washer pride humbled, that she was to ask to share the precarious safety ofthe same feuar's widow, and her pittance of food, which might perhapsbe yet more precarious. Martin probably guessed what was passing in hermind, for he looked at her with a wistful glance, as if to deprecate anychange of resolution; and answering to his looks, rather than his words,she said, while the sparkle of subdued pride once more glanced fromher eye, "If it were for myself alone, I could but die-but for thisinfant--the last pledge of Avenel--"

  "True, my lady," said Martin, hastily; and, as if to prevent thepossibility of her retracting, he added, "I will step on and see DameElspeth--I kend her husband weel, and have bought and sold with him, foras great a man as he was."

  Martin's tale was soon told, and met all acceptance from her companionin misfortune. The Lady of Avenel had been meek and courteous in herprosperity; in adversity, therefore, she met with the greatest sympathy.Besides, there was a point of pride in sheltering and supporting a womanof such superior birth and rank; and, not to do Elspeth Glendinninginjustice, she felt sympathy for one whose fate resembled her own in somany points, yet was so much more severe. Every species of hospitalitywas gladly and respectfully extended to the distressed travellers,and they were kindly requested to stay as long at Glendearg as theircircumstances rendered necessary, or their inclination prompted.