by Walter Scott
Chapter the Thirtieth.
You call it an ill angel it may be so, But sure I am, among the ranks which fell, 'Tis the first fiend e'er counsell'd man to rise, And win the bliss the sprite himself had forfeited. OLD PLAY.
We must resume our narrative at the period when Mary Avenel wasconveyed to the apartment which had been formerly occupied by the twoGlendinnings, and when her faithful attendant, Tibbie, had exhaustedherself in useless attempts to compose and to comfort her. FatherEustace also dealt forth with well-meant kindness those apophthegms anddogmata of consolation, which friendship almost always offers to grief,though they are uniformly offered in vain. She was at length left toindulge in the desolation of her own sorrowful feelings. She felt asthose who, loving for the first time, have lost what they loved, beforetime and repeated calamity have taught them that every loss is to acertain extent reparable or endurable.
Such grief may be conceived better than it can be described, as is wellknown to those who have experienced it. But Mary Avenel had been taughtby the peculiarity of her situation, to regard herself as the Child ofDestiny; and the melancholy and reflecting turn of her dispositiongave to her sorrows a depth and breadth peculiar to her character. Thegrave--and it was a bloody grave--had closed, as she believed, over theyouth to whom she was secretly, but most warmly attached; the force andardour of Halbert's character bearing a singular correspondence to theenergy of which her own was capable. Her sorrow did not exhaustitself in sighs and tears, but when the first shock had passed away,concentrated itself with deep and steady meditation, to collect andcalculate, like a bankrupt debtor, the full amount of her loss. Itseemed as if all that connected her with earth, had vanished with thisbroken tie. She had never dared to anticipate the probability of anultimate union with Halbert, yet now his supposed fall seemed that ofthe only tree which was to shelter her from the storm. She respectedthe more gentle character, and more peaceful attainments, of the youngerGlendinning; but it had not escaped her (what never indeed escapedwoman in such circumstances) that he was disposed to place himself incompetition with what she, the daughter of a proud and warlike race,deemed the more manly qualities of his elder brother; and there is notime when a woman does so little justice to the character of a survivinglover, as when comparing him with the preferred rival of whom she hasbeen recently deprived.
The motherly, but coarse kindness of Dame Glendinning, and the doatingfondness of her old domestic, seemed now the only kind feeling of whichshe formed the object; and she could not but reflect how little thesewere to be compared with the devoted attachment of a high-souled youth,whom the least glance of her eye could command, as the high-mettledsteed is governed by the bridle of the rider. It was when plunged amongthese desolating reflections, that Mary Avenel felt the void of mind,arising from the narrow and bigoted ignorance in which Rome theneducated the children of her church. Their whole religion was a ritual,and their prayers were the formal iteration of unknown words, which, inthe hour of affliction, could yield but little consolation to those whofrom habit resorted to them. Unused to the practice of mental devotion,and of personal approach to the Divine Presence by prayer, she could nothelp exclaiming in her distress, "There is no aid for me on earth, and Iknow not how to ask it from Heaven!"
As she spoke thus in an agony of sorrow, she cast her eyes into theapartment, and saw the mysterious Spirit, which waited upon the fortunesof her house, standing in the moonlight in the midst of the room. Thesame form, as the reader knows, had more than once offered itself toher sight; and either her native boldness of mind, or some peculiarityattached to her from her birth, made her now look upon it withoutshrinking. But the White Lady of Avenel was now more distinctly visible,and more closely present, than she had ever before seemed to be, andMary was appalled by her presence. She would, however, have spoken; butthere ran a tradition, that though others who had seen the White Ladyhad asked questions and received answers, yet those of the house ofAvenel who had ventured to speak to her, had never long survived thecolloquy. The figure, besides, as sitting up in her bed, Mary Avenelgazed on it intently, seemed by its gestures to caution her to keepsilence, and at the same time to bespeak attention.
The White Lady then seemed to press one of the planks of the floor withher foot, while, in her usual low, melancholy, and musical chant, sherepeated the following verses:
"Maiden, whose sorrows wail the Living Dead, Whose eyes shall commune with the Dead Alive, Maiden, attend! Beneath my foot lies hid The Word, the Law, the Path, which thou dost strive To find and canst not find.--Could spirits shed Tears for their lot, it were my lot to weep, Showing the road which I shall never tread, Though my foot points it.--Sleep, eternal sleep, Dark, long, and cold forgetfulness my lot!-- But do not thou at human ills repine, Secure there lies full guerdon in this spot For all the woes that wait frail Adam's line-- Stoop, then, and make it yours--I may not make it mine!"
The phantom stooped towards the floor as she concluded, as if with theintention of laying her hand on the board on which she stood. Butere she had completed that gesture, her form became indistinct, waspresently only like the shade of a fleecy cloud, which passed betwixtearth and the moon, and was soon altogether invisible.
A strong impression of fear, the first which she had experienced in herlife to any agitating extent, seized upon the mind of Mary Avenel, andfor a minute she felt a disposition to faint. She repelled it, however,mustered her courage, and addressed herself to saints and angels, asher church recommended. Broken slumbers at length stole on her exhaustedmind and frame, and she slept until the dawn was about to rise, whenshe was awakened by the cry of "Treason! treason! follow, follow!" whicharose in the tower, when it was found that Piercie Shafton had made hisescape.
Apprehensive of some new misfortune, Mary Avenel hastily arranged thedress which she had not laid aside, and, venturing to quit her chamber,learned from Tibb, who, with her gray hairs dishevelled like those ofa sibyl, was flying from room to room, that the bloody Southron villainhad made his escape, and that Halbert Glendinning, poor bairn,would sleep unrevenged and unquiet in his bloody grave. In the lowerapartments, the young men were roaring like thunder, and ventingin oaths and exclamations against the fugitives the rage which theyexperienced in finding themselves locked up within the tower, anddebarred from their vindictive pursuit by the wily precautions of MysieHapper. The authoritative voice of the Sub-Prior commanding silence wasnext heard; upon which Mary Avenel, whose tone of feeling did not leadher to enter into counsel or society with the rest of the party, againretired to her solitary chamber.
The rest of the family held counsel in the spence, Edward almost besidehimself with rage, and the Sub-Prior in no small degree offended at theeffrontery of Mysie Happer in attempting such a scheme, as well as atthe mingled boldness and dexterity with which it had been executed. Butneither surprise nor anger availed aught. The windows, well securedwith iron bars for keeping assailants out, proved now as effectual fordetaining the inhabitants within. The battlements were open, indeed; butwithout ladder or ropes to act as a substitute for wings, there was nopossibility of descending from them. They easily succeeded in alarmingthe inhabitants of the cottages beyond the precincts of the court; butthe men had been called in to strengthen the guard for the night, andonly women and children remained who could contribute nothing in theemergency, except their useless exclamations of surprise, and there wereno neighbours for miles around. Dame Elspeth, however, though drowned intears, was not so unmindful of external affairs, but that she could findvoice enough to tell the women and children without, to "leave theirskirling, and look after the cows that she couldna get minded, whatwi' the awfu' distraction of her mind, what wi' that fause slut havinglocked them up in their ain tower as fast as if they had been in theJeddart tolbooth."
Meanwhile, the men finding other modes of exit impossible, unanimouslyconcluded to force the doors with such tools as the house affordedfor the purpose. These were not very proper for
the occasion, andthe strength of the doors was great. The interior one, formed of oak,occupied them for three mortal hours, and there was little prospect ofthe iron door being forced in double the time.
While they were engaged in this ungrateful toil, Mary Avenel hadwith much less labour acquired exact knowledge of what the Spirit hadintimated in her mystic rhyme. On examining the spot which the phantomhad indicated by her gestures, it was not difficult to discover that aboard had been loosened, which might be raised at pleasure. On removingthis piece of plank, Mary Avenel was astonished to find the Black Book,well remembered by her as her mother's favourite study, of which sheimmediately took possession, with as much joy as her present situationrendered her capable of feeling.
Ignorant in a great measure of its contents, Mary Avenel had beentaught from her infancy to hold this volume in sacred veneration. Itis probable that the deceased Lady of Walter Avenel only postponedinitiating her daughter into the mysteries of the Divine Word, until sheshould be better able to comprehend both the lessons which it taught,and the risk at which, in those times, they were studied. Deathinterposed, and removed her before the times became favourable to thereformers, and before her daughter was so far advanced in age as tobe fit to receive religious instruction of this deep import. But theaffectionate mother had made preparations for the earthly work which shehad most at heart. There were slips of paper inserted in the volume, inwhich, by an appeal to, and a comparison of, various passages in holywrit, the errors and human inventions with which the Church of Rome haddefaced the simple edifice of Christianity, as erected by its divinearchitect, were pointed out. These controversial topics were treatedwith a spirit of calmness and Christian charity, which might have beenan example to the theologians of the period; but they were clearly,fairly, and plainly argued, and supported by the necessary proofs andreferences. Other papers there were which had no reference whatever topolemics, but were the simple effusions of a devout mind communing withitself. Among these was one frequently used, as it seemed from thestate of the manuscript, on which the mother of Mary had transcribed andplaced together those affecting texts to which the heart has recourse,in affliction, and which assures us at once of the sympathy andprotection afforded to the children of the promise. In Mary Avenel'sstate of mind, these attracted her above all the other lessons, which,coming from a hand so dear, had reached her at a time so critical, andin a manner so touching. She read the affecting promise, "I will neverleave thee nor forsake thee," and the consoling exhortation, "Call uponme in the day of trouble, and I will deliver thee." She read them, andher heart acquiesced in the conclusion. Surely this is the word of God!
There are those to whom a sense of religion has come in storm andtempest; there are those whom it has summoned amid scenes of revelryand idle vanity; there are those, too, who have heard its "still smallvoice" amid rural leisure and placid contentment. But perhaps theknowledge which causeth not to err, is most frequently impressed uponthe mind during seasons of affliction; and tears are the softenedshowers which cause the seed of Heaven to spring and take root in thehuman breast. At least it was thus with Mary Avenel. She was insensibleto the discordant noise which rang below, the clang of bars and thejarring symphony of the levers which they used to force them, themeasured shouts of the labouring inmates as they combined their strengthfor each heave, and gave time with their voices to the exertion of theirarms, and their deeply muttered vows of revenge on the fugitives who hadbequeathed them at their departure a task so toilsome and difficult. Notall this din, combined in hideous concert, and expressive of aught butpeace, love, and forgiveness, could divert Mary Avenel from the newcourse of study on which she had so singularly entered. "The serenityof Heaven," she said, "is above me; the sounds which are around are butthose of earth and earthly passion."
Meanwhile the noon was passed, and little impression was made on theiron grate, when they who laboured at it received a sudden reinforcementby the unexpected arrival of Christie of the Clinthill. He came at thehead of a small party, consisting of four horsemen, who bore in theircaps the sprig of holly, which was the badge of Avenel.
"What, ho!--my masters," he said, "I bring you a prisoner."
"You had better have brought us liberty," said Dan of the Howlet-hirst.
Christie looked at the state of affairs with great surprise. "An I wereto be hanged for it," he said, "as I may for as little a matter, I couldnot forbear laughing at seeing men peeping through their own bars likeso many rats in a rat-trap, and he with the beard behind, like theoldest rat in the cellar."
"Hush, thou unmannered knave," said Edward, "it is the Sub-Prior; andthis is neither time, place, nor company, for your ruffian jests."
"What, ho! is my young master malapert?" said Christie; "why, man, werehe my own carnal father, instead of being father to half the world,I would have my laugh out. And now it is over, I must assist you, Ireckon, for you are setting very greenly about this gear--put the pinchnearer the staple, man, and hand me an iron crow through the grate, forthat's the fowl to fly away with a wicket on its shoulders. I have brokeinto as many grates as you have teeth in your young head--ay, and brokeout of them too, as the captain of the Castle of Lochmaben knows fullwell."
Christie did not boast more skill than he really possessed; for,applying their combined strength, under the direction of thatexperienced engineer, bolt and staple gave way before them, and in lessthan half an hour, the grate, which had so long repelled their force,stood open before them.
"And now," said Edward, "to horse, my mates, and pursue the villainShafton!"
"Halt, there," said Christie of the Clinthill; "pursue your guest, mymaster's friend and my own?--there go two words to that bargain. Whatthe foul fiend would you pursue him for?"
"Let me pass," said Edward, vehemently, "I will be staid by no man--thevillain has murdered my brother!"
"What says he?" said Christie, turning to the others; "murdered? who ismurdered, and by whom?"
"The Englishman, Sir Piercie Shafton," said Dan of the Howlet-hirst,"has murdered young Halbert Glendinning yesterday morning, and we haveall risen to the fray."
"It is a bedlam business, I think," said Christie. "First I find you alllocked up in your own tower, and next I am come to prevent you revenginga murder that was never committed!"
"I tell you," said Edward, "that my brother was slain and buriedyesterday morning by this false Englishman."
"And I tell you," answered Christie, "that I saw him alive and well lastnight. I would I knew his trick of getting out of the grave; most menfind it more hard to break through a green sod than a grated door."
Every body now paused, and looked on Christie in astonishment, until theSub-Prior, who had hitherto avoided communication with him, came up andrequired earnestly to know, whether he meant really to maintain thatHalbert Glendinning lived.
"Father," he said, with, more respect than he usually showed to anyone save his master, "I confess I may sometimes jest with those of yourcoat, but not with you; because, as you may partly recollect, I owe youa life. It is certain as the sun is in heaven, that Halbert Glendinningsupped at the house of my master the Baron of Avenel last night, andthat he came thither in company with an old man, of whom more anon."
"And where is he now?"
"The devil only can answer that question," replied Christie, "for thedevil has possessed the whole family, I think. He took fright, thefoolish lad, at something or other which our Baron did in his moodyhumour, and so he jumped into the lake and swam ashore like a wild-duck.Robin of Redcastle spoiled a good gelding in chasing him this morning."
"And why did he chase the youth?" said the Sub-Prior; "what harm had hedone?"
"None that I know of," said Christie; "but such was the Baron's order,being in his mood, and all the world having gone mad, as I have saidbefore."
"Whither away so fast, Edward?" said the monk.
"To Corri-nan-shian, Father," answered the youth.--"Martin and Dan, takepickaxe and mattock, and follow me if you be men!"
"Right," said the monk, "and fail not to give us instant notice what youfind."
"If you find aught there like Halbert Glendinning," said Christie,hallooing after Edward, "I will be bound to eat him unsalted.--'T isa sight to see how that fellow takes the bent!--It is in the time ofaction men see what lads are made of. Halbert was aye skipping up anddown like a roo, and his brother used to sit in the chimney nook withhis book and sic-like trash--But the lad was like a loaded hackbut,which will stand in the corner as quiet as an old crutch until ye drawthe trigger, and then there is nothing but flash and smoke.--But herecomes my prisoner; and, setting other matters aside, I must pray a wordwith you, Sir Sub-Prior, respecting him. I came on before to treat abouthim, but I was interrupted with this fasherie."
As he spoke, two more of Avenel's troopers rode into the court-yard,leading betwixt them a horse, on which, with his hands bound to hisside, sate the reformed preacher, Henry Warden.
