CHAPTER XVI.

     A slight note I have about me for you, for the delivery of which
     you must excuse me.  It is an offer that friendship calls upon me
     to do, and no way offensive to you, since I desire nothing but
     right upon both sides.

     King and no King.

WHEN Ravenswood and his guest met in the morning, the gloom of the
Master's spirit had in part returned. He, also, had passed a night
rather of reflection that of slumber; and the feelings which he could
not but entertain towards Lucy Ashton had to support a severe conflict
against those which he had so long nourished against her father. To
clasp in friendship the hand of the enemy of his house, to entertain him
under his roof, to exchange with him the courtesies and the kindness of
domestic familiarity, was a degradation which his proud spirit could not
be bent to without a struggle.

But the ice being once broken, the Lord Keeper was resolved it should
not have time against to freeze. It had been part of his plan to stun
and confuse Ravenswood's ideas, by a complicated and technical statement
of the matters which had been in debate betwixt their families, justly
thinking that it would be difficult for a youth of his age to follow
the expositions of a practical lawyer, concerning actions of compt and
reckoning, and of multiplepoindings, and adjudications and wadsets,
proper and improper, and poindings of the ground, and declarations of
the expiry of the legal. "Thus," thought Sir William, "I shall have
all the grace of appearing perfectly communicative, while my party will
derive very little advantage from anything I may tell him." He therefore
took Ravenswood aside into the deep recess of a window in the hall, and
resuming the discourse of the proceeding evening, expressed a hope that
his young friend would assume some patience, in order to hear him enter
in a minute and explanatory detail of those unfortunate circumstances
in which his late honourable father had stood at variance with the Lord
Keeper. The Master of Ravenswood coloured highly, but was silent; and
the Lord Keeper, though not greatly approving the sudden heightening
of his auditor's complexion, commenced the history of a bond for twenty
thousand merks, advanced by his father to the father of Allan Lord
Ravenswood, and was proceeding to detail the executorial proceedings
by which this large sum had been rendered a debitum fundi, when he was
interrupted by the Master.

"It is not in this place," he said, "that I can hear Sir William
Ashton's explanation of the matters in question between us. It is not
here, where my father died of a broken heart, that I can with decency
or temper investigate the cause of his distress. I might remember that I
was a son, and forget the duties of a host. A time, however, there must
come, when these things shall be discussed, in a place and in a presence
where both of us will have equal freedom to speak and to hear."

"Any time," the Lord Keeper said, "any place, was alike to those who
sought nothing but justice. Yet it would seem he was, in fairness,
entitled to some premonition respecting the grounds upon which the
Master proposed to impugn the whole train of legal proceedings, which
had been so well and ripely advised in the only courts competent."

"Sir William Ashton," answered the Master, with warmth, "the lands which
you now occupy were granted to my remote ancestor for services done with
his sword against the English invaders. How they have glided from us by
a train of proceedings that seem to be neither sale, nor mortgage, nor
adjudication for debt, but a nondescript and entangled mixture of all
these rights; how annual rent has been accumulated upon principal, and
no nook or coign of legal advantage left unoccupied, until our interest
in our hereditary property seems to have melted away like an icicle in
thaw--all this you understand better than I do. I am willing, however,
to suppose, from the frankness of your conduct towards me, that I may in
a great measure have mistaken your personal character, and that things
may have appeared right and fitting to you, a skilful and practised
lawyer, which to my ignorant understanding seem very little short of
injustice and gross oppression."

"And you, my dear Master," answered Sir William--"you, permit me to say,
have been equally misrepresented to me. I was taught to believe you
a fierce, imperious, hot-headed youth, ready, at the slightest
provocation, to throw your sword into the scales of justice, and to
appeal to those rude and forcible measures from which civil polity has
long protected the people of Scotland. Then, since we were mutually
mistaken in each other, why should not the young nobleman be willing
to listen to the old lawyer, while, at least, he explains the points of
difference betwixt them?"

"No, my lord," answered Ravenswood; "it is in the House of British
Peers, whose honour must be equal to their rank--it is in the court of
last resort that we must parley together. The belted lords of Britain,
her ancient peers, must decide, if it is their will that a house,
not the least noble of their members, shall be stripped of their
possessions, the reward of the patriotism of generations, as the pawn of
a wretched mechanic becomes forfeit to the usurer the instant the hour
of redemption has passed away. If they yield to the grasping severity of
the creditor, and to the gnawing usury that eats into our lands as moths
into a raiment, it will be of more evil consequence to them and their
posterity than to Edgar Ravenswood. I shall still have my sword and my
cloak, and can follow the profession of arms wherever a trumpet shall
sound."

As he pronounced these words, in a firm yet melancholy tone, he raised
his eyes, and suddenly encountered those of Lucy Ashton, who had stolen
unawares on their interview, and observed her looks fastened on them
with an expression of enthusiastic interest and admiration, which had
wrapt her for the moment beyond the fear of discovery. The noble form
and fine features of Ravenswood, fired with the pride of birth and sense
of internal dignity, the mellow and expressive tones of his voice,
the desolate state of his fortunes, and the indifference with which he
seemed to endure and to dare the worst that might befall, rendered him a
dangerous object of contemplation for a maiden already too much
disposed to dwell upon recollections connected with him. When their eyes
encountered each other, both blushed deeply, conscious of some strong
internal emotion, an shunned again to meet each other's looks. Sir
William Ashton had, of course, closely watched the expression of their
countenances. "I need fear," said he internally, "neither Parliament nor
protestation; I have an effectual mode of reconciling myself with this
hot-tempered young fellow, in case he shall become formidable. The
present object is, at all events, to avoid committing ourselves. The
hook is fixed; we will nto strain the line too soon: it is as well to
reserve the privilege of slipping it loose, if we do not find the fish
worth landing."

In this selfish and cruel calculation upon the supposed attachment of
Ravenswood to Lucy, he was so far from considering the pain he might
give to the former, by thus dallying with his affections, that he even
did not think upon the risk of involving his own daughter in the perils
of an unfortunate passion; as if her predilection, which could not
escape his attention, were like the flame of a taper which might be
lighted or extinguished at pleasure. But Providence had prepared a
dreadful requital for this keen observer of human passions, who had
spent his life in securing advantages to himself by artfully working
upon the passions of others.

Caleb Balderstone now came to announce that breakfast was prepared; for
in those days of substantial feeding, the relics of the supper simply
furnished forth the morning meal. Neither did he forget to present to
the Lord Keeper, with great reverence, a morning draught in a large
pewter cup, garnished with leaves of parsley and scurvy-grass. He craved
pardon, of course, for having omitted to serve it in the great silver
standing cup as behoved, being that it was at present in a silversmith's
in Edinburgh, for the purpose of being overlaid with gilt.

"In Edinburgh like enough," said Ravenswood; "but in what place, or for
what purpose, I am afraid neither you nor I know."

"Aweel!" said Caleb, peevishly, "there's a man standing at the gate
already this morning--that's ae thing that I ken. Does your honour ken
whether ye will speak wi' him or no?"

"Does he wish to speak with me, Caleb?"

"Less will no serve him," said Caleb; "but ye had best take a visie of
him through the wicket before opening the gate; it's no every ane we
suld let into this castle."

"What! do you suppose him to be a messenger come to arrest me for debt?"
said Ravenswood.

"A messenger arrest your honour for debt, and in your Castle of Wolf's
Crag! Your honour is jesting wi' auld Caleb this morning." However, he
whispered in his ear, as he followed him out, "I would be loth to do ony
decent man a prejudice in your honour's gude opinion; but I would tak
twa looks o' that chield before I let him within these walls."

He was not an officer of the law, however; being no less a person than
Captain Craigengelt, with his nose as red as a comfortable cup of brandy
could make it, his laced cocked hat set a little aside upon the top
of his black riding periwig, a sword by his side and pistols at his
holsters, and his person arrayed in a riding suit, laid over with
tarnished lace--the very moral of one who would say, "Stand to a true
man."

When the Master had recognised him, he ordered the gates to be opened.
"I suppose," he said, "Captain Craigengelt, there are no such weighty
matters betwixt you and me, but may be discussed in this place. I have
company in the castle at present, and the terms upon which we last
parted must excuse my asking you to make part of them."

Craigengelt, although possessing the very perfection of impudence, was
somewhat abashed by this unfavourable reception. "He had no intention,"
he said, "to force himself upon the Master of Ravenswood's hospitality;
he was in the honourable service of bearing a message to him from a
friend, otherwise the Master of Ravenswood should not have had reason to
complain of this intrusion."

"Let it be short, sir," said the Master, "for that will be the best
apology. Who is the gentleman who is so fortunate as to have your
services as a messenger?"

"My friend, Mr. Hayston of Bucklaw," answered Craigengelt, with
conscious importance, and that confidence which the acknowledged courage
of his principal inspired, "who conceives himself to have been treated
by you with something much short of the respect which he had reason to
demand, and, therefore is resolved to exact satisfaction. I bring with
me," said he, taking a piece of paper out of his pocket, "the precise
length of his sword; and he requests you will meet him, accompanied by
a friend, and equally armed, at any place within a mile of the castle,
when I shall give attendance as umpire, or second, on his behoof."

"Satisfaction! and equal arms!" repeated Ravenswood, who, the reader
will recollect, had no reason to suppose he had given the slightest
offence to his late intimate; "upon my word, Captain Craigengelt, either
you have invented the most improbable falsehood that ever came into the
mind of such a person, or your morning draught has been somewhat of the
strongest. What could persuade Bucklaw to send me such a message?"

"For that, sir," replied Craigengelt, "I am desired to refer you to
what, in duty to my friend, I am to term your inhospitality in excluding
him from your house, without reasons assigned."

"It is impossible," replied the Master; "he cannot be such a fool as to
interpret actual necessity as an insult. Nor do I believe that, knowing
my opinion of you, Captain, he would have employed the services of so
slight and inconsiderable a person as yourself upon such an errand, as I
certainly could expect no man of honour to act with you in the office of
umpire."

"I slight and inconsiderable?" said Craigengelt, raising his voice, and
laying his hand on his cutlass; "if it were not that the quarrel of
my friend craves the precedence, and is in dependence before my own, I
would give you to understand----"

"I can understand nothing upon your explanation, Captain Craigengelt. Be
satisfied of that, and oblige me with your departure."

"D----n!" muttered the bully; "and is this the answer which I am to
carry back to an honourable message?"

"Tell the Laird of Bucklaw," answered Ravenswood, "if you are really
sent by him, that, when he sends me his cause of grievance by a person
fitting to carry such an errand betwixt him and me, I will either
explain it or maintain it."

"Then, Master, you will at least cause to be returned to Hayston, by my
hands, his property which is remaining in your possession."

"Whatever property Bucklaw may have left behind him, sir," replied the
Master, "shall be returned to him by my servant, as you do not show me
any credentials from him which entitle you to receive it."

"Well, Master," said Captain Craigengelt, with malice which even his
fear of the consequences could not suppress, "you have this morning done
me an egregious wrong adn dishonour, but far more to yourself. A castle
indeed!" he continued, looking around him; "why, this is worse than
a coupe-gorge house, where they receive travellers to plunder them of
their property."

"You insolent rascal," said the Master, raising his cane, and making a
grasp at the Captain's bridle, "if you do not depart without uttering
another syllable, I will batoon you to death!"

At the motion of the Master towards him, the bully turned so rapidly
round, that with some difficulty he escaped throwing down his horse,
whose hoofs struck fire from the rocky pavement in every direction.
Recovering him, however, with the bridle, he pushed for the gate, and
rode sharply back again in the direction of the village.

As Ravenswood turned round to leave the courtyard after this dialogue,
he found that the Lord Keeper had descended from the hall, and
witnessed, though at the distance prescribed by politeness, his
interview with Craigengelt.

"I have seen," said the Lord Keeper, "that gentleman's face, and at no
great distance of time; his name is Craig--Craig--something, is it not?"

"Craigengelt is the fellow's name," said the Master, "at least that by
which he passes at present."

"Craig-in-guilt," said Caleb, punning upon the word "craig," which in
Scotch signifies throat; "if he is Craig-in-guilt just now, he is as
likely to be Craig-in-peril as ony chield I ever saw; the loon has
woodie written on his very visnomy, and I wad wager twa and a plack that
hemp plaits his cravat yet."

"You understand physiognomy, good Mr. Caleb," said the Keeper, smiling;
"I assure you the gentleman has been near such a consummation before
now; for I most distinctly recollect that, upon occasion of a journey
which I made about a fortnight ago to Edinburgh, I saw Mr. Craigengelt,
or whatever is his name, undergo a severe examination before the privy
council."

"Upon what account?" said the Master of Ravenswood, with some interest.

The question led immediately to a tale which the Lord Keeper had been
very anxious to introduce, when he could find a graceful and fitting
opportunity. He took hold of the Master's arm, and led him back towards
the hall. "The answer to your question," he said, "though it is a
ridiculous business, is only fit for your own ear."

As they entered the hall, he again took the Master apart into one of
the recesses of the window, where it will be easily believed that Miss
Ashton did not venture again to intrude upon their conference.




CHAPTER XVII.

     Here is a father now,
     Will truck his daughter for a foreign venture,
     Make her the stop-gap to some canker'd feud,
     Or fling her o'er, like Jonah, to the fishes,
     To appease the sea at highest.

     Anonymous.

THE Lord Keeper opened his discourse with an appearance of unconcern,
marking, however, very carefully, the effect of his communication upon
young Ravenswood.

"You are aware," he said, "my young friend, that suspicion is the
natural vice of our unsettled times, and exposes the best and wisest of
us to the imposition of artful rascals. If I had been disposed to listen
to such the other day, or even if I had been the wily politicians which
you have been taught to believe me, you, Master of Ravenswood, instead
of being at freedom, and with fully liberty to solicit and act against
me as you please, in defence of what you suppose to be your rights,
would have been in the Castle of Edinburgh, or some other state prison;
or, if you had escaped that destiny, it must have been by flight to a
foreign country, and at the risk of a sentence of fugitation."

"My Lord Keeper," said the Master, "I think you would not jest on such a
subject; yet it seems impossible you can be in earnest."

"Innocence," said the Lord Keeper, "is also confident, and sometimes,
though very excusably, presumptuously so."

"I do not understand," said Ravenswood, "how a consciousess of innocence
can be, in any case, accounted presumptuous."

"Imprudent, at least, it may be called," said Sir William Ashton, "since
it is apt to lead us into the mistake of supposing that sufficiently
evident to others of which, in fact, we are only conscious ourselves. I
have known a rogue, for this very reason, make a better defence than
an innocent man could have done in the same circumstances of suspicion.
Having no consciousness of innocence to support him, such a fellow
applies himself to all the advantages which the law will afford him, and
sometimes--if his counsel be men of talent--succeeds in compelling his
judges to receive him as innocent. I remember the celebrated case of Sir
Coolie Condiddle of Condiddle, who was tried for theft under trust, of
which all the world knew him guilty, and yet was not only acquitted, but
lived to sit in judgment on honester folk."

"Allow me to beg you will return to the point," said the Master; "you
seemed to say that I had suffered under some suspicion."

"Suspicion, Master! Ay, truly, and I can show you the proofs of it; if
I happen only to have them with me. Here, Lockhard." His attendant came.
"Fetch me the little private mail with the padlocks, that I recommended
to your particular charge, d'ye hear?"

"Yes, my lord." Lockhard vanished; and the Keeper continued, as if half
speaking to himself.

"I think the papers are with me--I think so, for, as I was to be in
this country, it was natural for me to bring them with me. I have them,
however, at Ravenswood Castle, that I am sure; so perhaps you might
condescend----"

Here Lockhard entered, and put the leathern scrutoire, or mail-box,
into his hands. The Keeper produced one or two papers, respecting the
information laid before the privy council concerning the riot, as it was
termed, at the funeral of Allan Lord Ravenswood, and the active share he
had himself taken in quashing the proceedings against the Master. These
documents had been selected with care, so as to irritate the natural
curiosity of Ravenswood upon such a subject, without gratifying it, yet
to show that Sir William Ashton had acted upon that trying occasion
the part of an advocate and peacemaker betwixt him and the jealous
authorities of the day. Having furnished his host with such subjects for
examination, the Lord Keeper went to the breakfast-table, and entered
into light conversation, addressed partly to old Caleb, whose resentment
against the usurper of the Castle of Ravenswood began to be softened by
his familiarity, and partly to his daughter.

After perusing these papers, the Master of Ravenswood remained for
a minute or two with his hand pressed against his brow, in deep and
profound meditation. He then again ran his eye hastily over the papers,
as if desirous of discovering in them some deep purpose, or some mark
of fabrication, which had escaped him at first perusal. Apparently the
second reading confirmed the opinion which had pressed upon him at the
first, for he started from the stone bench on which he was sitting,
and, going to the Lord Keeper, took his hand, and, strongly pressing it,
asked his pardon repeatedly for the injustice he had done him, when it
appeared he was experiencing, at his hands, the benefit of protection to
his person and vindication to his character.

The statesman received these acknowledgments at first with well-feigned
surprise, and then with an affectation of frank cordiality. The tears
began already to start from Lucy's blue eyes at viewing this unexpected
and moving scene. To see the Master, late so haughty and reserved, and
whom she had always supposed the injured person, supplicating her
father for forgiveness, was a change at once surprising, flattering, and
affecting.

"Dry your eyes, Lucy," said her father; "why should you weep, because
your father, though a lawyer, is discovered to be a fair and honourable
man? What have you to thank me for, my dear Master," he continued,
addressing Ravenswood, "that you would not have done in my case? 'Suum
cuique tribuito,' was the Roman justice, and I learned it when I studied
Justinian. Besides, have you not overpaid me a thousand times, in saving
the life of this dear child?"

"Yes," answered the Master, in all the remorse of self-accusation; "but
the little service _I_ did was an act of mere brutal instinct; YOUR
defence of my cause, when you knew how ill I thought of you, and how
much I was disposed to be your enemy, was an act of generous, manly, and
considerate wisdom."

"Pshaw!" said the Lord Keeper, "each of us acted in his own way; you as
a gallant soldier, I as an upright judge and privy-councillor. We could
not, perhaps, have changed parts; at least I should have made a very
sorry tauridor, and you, my good Master, though your cause is so
excellent, might have pleaded it perhaps worse yourself than I who acted
for you before the council."

"My generous friend!" said Ravenswood; and with that brief word,
which the Keeper had often lavished upon him, but which he himself now
pronounced for the first time, he gave to his feudal enemy the full
confidence of an haughty but honourable heart. The Master had been
remarked among his contemporaries for sense and acuteness, as well
as for his reserved, pertinacious, and irascible character. His
prepossessions accordingly, however obstinate, were of a nature to give
way before love and gratitude; and the real charms of the daughter,
joined to the supposed services of the father, cancelled in his memory
the vows of vengeance which he had taken so deeply on the eve of his
father's funeral. But they had been heard and registered in the book of
fate.

Caleb was present at this extraordinary scene, and he could conceive no
other reason for a proceeding so extraordinary than an alliance betwixt
the houses, and Ravenswood Castle assigned for the young lady's dowry.
As for Lucy, when Ravenswood uttered the most passionate excuses for his
ungrateful negligence, she could but smile through her tears, and, as
she abandoned her hand to him, assure him, in broken accents, of the
delight with which she beheld the complete reconciliation between her
father and her deliverer. Even the statesman was moved and affected
by the fiery, unreserved, and generous self-abandonment with which the
Master of Ravenswood renounced his feudal enmity, and threw himself
without hesitation upon his forgiveness. His eyes glistened as he looked
upon a couple who were obviously becoming attached, and who seemed made
for each other. He thought how high the proud and chivalrous character
of Ravenswood might rise under many circumstances in which HE found
himself "overcrowed," to use a phrase of Spenser, and kept under, by
his brief pedigree, and timidity of disposition. Then his daughter--his
favorite child--his constant playmate--seemed formed to live happy in
a union with such a commanding spirit as Ravenswood; and even the fine,
delicate, fragile form of Lucy Ashton seemed to require the support of
the Master's muscular strength and masculine character. And it was not
merely during a few minutes that Sir William Ashton looked upon their
marriage as a probable and even desirable event, for a full hour
intervened ere his imagination was crossed by recollection of the
Master's poverty, and the sure displeasure of Lady Ashton. It is
certain, that the very unusual flow of kindly feeling with which the
Lord Keeper had been thus surprised, was one of the circumstances which
gave much tacit encouragement to the attachment between the Master and
his daughter, and led both the lovers distinctly to believe that it
was a connexion which would be most agreeable to him. He himself
was supposed to have admitted this in effect, when, long after
the catastrophe of their love, he used to warn his hearers against
permitting their feelings to obtain an ascendency over their judgment,
and affirm, that the greatest misfortune of his life was owing to a
very temporary predominance of sensibility over self-interest. It must
be owned, if such was the case, he was long and severely punished for an
offence of very brief duration.

After some pause, the Lord Keeper resumed the conversation.--

"In your surprise at finding me an honester man than you expected, you
have lost your curiosity about this Craigengelt, my good Master; and yet
your name was brought in, in the course of that matter too."

"The scoundrel!" said Ravenswood. "My connexion with him was of the
most temporary nature possible; and yet I was very foolish to hold any
communication with him at all. What did he say of me?"

"Enough," said the Keeper, "to excite the very loyal terrors of some
of our sages, who are for proceeding against men on the mere grounds of
suspicion or mercenary information. Some nonsense about your proposing
to enter into the service of France, or of the Pretender, I don't
recollect which, but which the Marquis of A----, one of your best
friends, and another person, whom some call one of your worst and most
interested enemies, could not, somehow, be brought to listen to."

"I am obliged to my honourable friend; and yet," shaking the Lord
Keeper's hand--"and yet I am still more obliged to my honourable enemy."

"Inimicus amicissimus," said the Lord Keeper, returning the pressure;
"but this gentleman--this Mr. Hayston of Bucklaw--I am afraid the
poor young man--I heard the fellow mention his name--is under very bad
guidance."

"He is old enough to govern himself," answered the Master.

"Old enough, perhaps, but scarce wise enough, if he has chosen this
fellow for his fidus Achates. Why, he lodged an information against
him--that is, such a consequence might have ensued from his examination,
had we not looked rather at the character of the witness than the tenor
of his evidence."

"Mr. Hayston of Bucklaw," said the master, "is, I believe, a most
honourable man, and capable of nothing that is mean or disgraceful."

"Capable of much that is unreasonable, though; that you must needs
allow, master. Death will soon put him in possession of a fair estate,
if he hath it not already; old Lady Girnington--an excellent person,
excepting that her inveterate ill-nature rendered her intolerable to the
whole world--is probably dead by this time. Six heirs portioners have
successively died to make her wealthy. I know the estates well; they
march with my own--a noble property."

"I am glad of it," said Ravenswood, "and should be more so, were I
confident that Bucklaw would change his company and habits with his
fortunes. This appearance of Craigengelt, acting in the capacity of his
friend, is a most vile augury for his future respectability."

"He is a bird of evil omen, to be sure," said the Keeper, "and croaks
of jail and gallows-tree. But I see Mr. Caleb grows impatient for our
return to breakfast."




CHAPTER XVIII.

     Sir, stay at home and take an old man's counsel;
     Seek not to bask you by a stranger's hearth;
     Our own blue smoke is warmer than their fire.
     Domestic food is wholesome, though 'tis homely,
     And foreign dainties poisonous, though tasteful.

     The French Courtezan.

THE Master of Ravenswood took an opportunity to leave his guests
to prepare for their departure, while he himself made the brief
arrangements necessary previous to his absence from Wolf's Crag for a
day or two. It was necessary to communicate with Caleb on this occasion,
and he found that faithful servitor in his sooty and ruinous den,
greatly delighted with the departure of their visitors, and computing
how long, with good management, the provisions which had been unexpended
might furnish the Master's table. "He's nae belly god, that's ae
blessing; and Bucklaw's gane, that could have eaten a horse behind
the saddle. Cresses or water-purpie, and a bit ait-cake, can serve
the Master for breakfast as weel as Caleb. Then for dinner--there's no
muckle left on the spule-bane; it will brander, though--it will brander
very weel."

His triumphant calculations were interrupted by the Master, who
communicated to him, not without some hesitation, his purpose to ride
with the Lord Keeper as far as Ravenswood Castle, and to remain there
for a day or two.

"The mercy of Heaven forbid!" said the old serving-man, turning as pal
as the table-cloth which he was folding up.

"And why, Caleb?" said his master--"why should the mercy of Heaven
forbid my returning the Lord Keeper's visit?"

"Oh, sir!" replied Caleb--"oh, Mr. Edgar! I am your servant, and it ill
becomes me to speak; but I am an auld servant--have served baith
your father and gudesire, and mind to have seen Lord Randal, your
great-grandfather, but that was when I was a bairn."

"And what of all this, Balderstone?" said the Master; "what can
it possibly have to do with my paying some ordinary civility to a
neighbour."

"Oh, Mr. Edgar,--that is, my lord!" answered the butler, "your ain
conscience tells you it isna for your father's son to be neighbouring
wi' the like o' him; it isna for the credit of the family. An he were
ance come to terms, and to gie ye back your ain, e'en though ye suld
honour his house wi' your alliance, I suldna say na; for the young leddy
is a winsome sweet creature. But keep your ain state wi' them--I ken the
race o' them weel--they will think the mair o' ye."

"Why, now, you go father than I do, Caleb," said the Master, drowning a
certain degree of consciousness in a forced laugh; "you are for marrying
me into a family that you will nto allow me to visit, how this? and you
look as pale as death besides."

"Oh, sir," repeated Caleb again, "you would but laugh if I tauld it; but
Thomas the Rhymer, whose tongue couldna be fause, spoke the word of your
house that will e'en prove ower true if you go to Ravenswood this day.
Oh, that it should e'er have been fulfilled in my time!"

"And what is it, Caleb?" said Ravenswood, wishing to soothe the fears of
his old servant.

Caleb replied: "He had never repeated the lines to living mortal; they
were told to him by an auld priest that had been confessor to Lord
Allan's father when the family were Catholic. But mony a time," he said,
"I hae soughed thae dark words ower to myself, and, well-a-day! little
did I think of their coming round this day."

"Truce with your nonsense, and let me hear the doggerel which has put it
into your head," said the Master, impatiently.

With a quivering voice, and a cheek pale with apprehension, Caleb
faltered out the following lines:

"When the last Laird of Ravenswood to Ravenswood shall ride, And woo a
dead maiden to be his bride, He shall stable his steed in the Kelpie's
flow, And his name shall be lost for evermoe!"

"I know the Kelpie's flow well enough," said the Master; "I suppose, at
least, you mean the quicksand betwixt this tower and Wolf's Hope; but
why any man in his senses should stable a steed there----"

"Oh, ever speer ony thing about that, sir--God forbid we should ken what
the prophecy means--but just bide you at hame, and let the strangers
ride to Ravenswood by themselves. We have done eneugh for them; and
to do mair would be mair against the credit of the family than in its
favour."

"Well, Caleb," said the Master, "I give you the best possible credit for
your good advice on this occasion; but as I do not go to Ravenswood to
seek a bride, dead or alive, I hope I shall choose a better stable for
my horse than the Kelpie's quicksand, and especially as I have always
had a particular dread of it since the patrol of dragoons were
lost there ten years since. My father and I saw them from the tower
struggling against the advancing tide, and they were lost long before
any help could reach them."

"And they deserved it weel, the southern loons!" said Caleb; "what had
they ado capering on our sands, and hindering a wheen honest folk frae
bringing on shore a drap brandy? I hae seen them that busy, that I
wad hae fired the auld culverin or the demi-saker that's on the south
bartizan at them, only I was feared they might burst in the ganging
aff."

Caleb's brain was now fully engaged with abuse of the English soldiery
and excisemen, so that his master found no great difficulty in
escaping from him and rejoining his guests. All was now ready for
their departure; and one of the Lord Keeper's grooms having saddled the
Master's steed, they mounted in the courtyard.

Caleb had, with much toil, opened the double doors of the outward gate,
and thereat stationed himself, endeavouring, by the reverential, and at
the same time consequential, air which he assumed, to supply, by his
own gaunt, wasted, and thin person, the absence of a whole baronial
establishment of porters, warders, and liveried menials.

The Keeper returned his deep reverence with a cordial farewell, stooping
at the same time from his horse, and sliding into the butler's hand the
remuneration which in those days was always given by a departing guest
to the domestics of the family where he had been entertained. Lucy
smiled on the old man with her usual sweetness, bade him adieu, and
deposited her guerdon with a grace of action and a gentleness of accent
which could not have failed to have won the faithful retainer's heart,
but for Thomas the Rhymer, and the successful lawsuit against his
master. As it was, he might have adopted the language of the Duke in As
You Like It:

Thou wouldst have better pleased me with this deed, If thou hadst told
me of another father.

Ravenswood was at the lady's bridle-rein, encouraging her timidity, and
guiding her horse carefully down the rocky path which led to the moor,
when one of the servants announced from the rear that Caleb was calling
loudly after them, desiring to speak with his master. Ravenswood felt it
would look singular to neglect this summons, although inwardly cursing
Caleb for his impertinent officiousness; therefore he was compelled to
relinquish to Mr. Lockhard the agreeable duty in which he was engaged,
and to ride back to the gate of the courtyard. Here he was beginning,
somewhat peevishly, to ask Caleb the cause of his clamour, when the good
old man exclaimed: "Whisht, sir!--whisht, and let me speak just ae word
that I couldna say afore folk; there (putting into his lord's hand the
money he had just received)--there's three gowd pieces; and ye'll
want siller up-bye yonder. But stay, whisht, now!" for the Master was
beginning to exclaim against this transference, "never say a word, but
just see to get them changed in the first town ye ride through, for they
are bran new frae the mint, and ken-speckle a wee bit."

"You forget, Caleb," said his master, striving to force back the money
on his servant, and extricate the bridle from his hold--"you forget that
I have some gold pieces left of my own. Keep these to yourself, my old
friend; and, once more, good day to you. I assure you, I have plenty.
You know you have managed that our living should cost us little or
nothing."

"Aweel," said Caleb, "these will serve for you another time; but see ye
hae eneugh, for, doubtless, for the credit of the family, there maun be
some civility to the servants, and ye maun hae something to mak a show
with when they say, 'Master, will you bet a broad piece?' Then ye maun
tak out your purse, and say, 'I carena if I do'; and tak care no to
agree on the articles of the wager, and just put up your purse again,
and----"

"This is intolerable, Caleb; I really must be gone."

"And you will go, then?" said Caleb, loosening his hold upon the
Master's cloak, and changing his didactics into a pathetic and mournful
tone--"and you WILL go, for a' I have told you about the prophecy, and
the dead bride, and the Kelpie's quicksand? Aweel! a wilful man maun
hae his way: he that will to Cupar maun to Cupar. But pity of your life,
sir, if ye be fowling or shooting in the Park, beware of drinking at the
Mermaiden's Well--He's gane! he's down the path arrow-flight after her!
The head is as clean taen aff the Ravenswood family this day as I wad
chap the head aff a sybo!"

The old butler looked long after his master, often clearing away the dew
as it rose to his eyes, that he might, as long as possible, distinguish
his stately form from those of the other horsemen. "Close to her
bridle-rein--ay, close to her bridle-rein! Wisely saith the holy man,
'By this also you may know that woman hath dominion over all men'; and
without this lass would not our ruin have been a'thegither fulfilled."

With a heart fraught with such sad auguries did Caleb return to
his necessary duties at Wofl's Crag, as soon as he could no longer
distinguish the object of his anxiety among the group fo riders, which
diminished in the distance.

In the mean time the party pursued their route joyfully. Having once
taken his resolution, the Master of Ravenswood was not of a character to
hesitate or pause upon it. He abandoned himself to the pleasure he felt
in Miss Ashton's company, and displayed an assiduous gallantry which
approached as nearly to gaiety as the temper of his mind and state of
his family permitted. The Lord Keeper was much struck with his depth of
observation, and the unusual improvement which he had derived from his
studies. Of these accomplishments Sir William Ashton's profession and
habits of society rendered him an excellent judge; and he well knew how
to appreciate a quality to which he himself was a total stranger--the
brief and decided dauntlessness of the Master of Ravenswood's fear. In
his heart the Lord Keeper rejoiced at having conciliated an adversary
so formidable, while, with a mixture of pleasure and anxiety, he
anticipated the great things his young companion might achieve, were the
breath of court-favour to fill his sails.

"What could she desire," he thought, his mind always conjuring
up opposition in the person of Lady Ashton to his new prevailing
wish--"what could a woman desire in a match more than the sopiting of
a very dangerous claim, and the alliance of a son-in-law, noble, brave,
well-gifted, and highly connected; sure to float whenever the tide
sets his way; strong, exactly where we are weak, in pedigree and in the
temper of a swordsman? Sure, no reasonable woman would hesitate. But
alas----!" Here his argument was stopped by the consciousness that Lady
Ashton was not always reasonable, in his sense of the word. "To prefer
some clownish Merse laird to the gallant young nobleman, and to the
secure possession of Ravenswood upon terms of easy compromise--it would
be the act of a madwoman!"

Thus pondered the veteran politician, until they reached Bittlebrains
House, where it had been previously settled they were to dine and repose
themselves, and prosecute their journey in the afternoon.

They were received with an excess of hospitality; and the most marked
attention was offered to the Master of Ravenswood, in particular, by
their noble entertainers. The truth was, that Lord Bittlebrains had
obtained his peerage by a good deal of plausibility, an art of building
up a character for wisdom upon a very trite style of commonplace
eloquence, a steady observation of the changes of the times, and the
power of rendering certain political services to those who could best
reward them. His lady and he, not feeling quite easy under their new
honours, to which use had not adapted their feelings, were very desirous
to procure the fraternal countenance of those who were born denizens of
the regions into which they had been exalted from a lower sphere. The
extreme attention which they paid to the Master of Ravenswood had its
usual effect in exalting his importance in the eyes of the Lord
Keeper, who, although he had a reasonable degree of contempt for
Lord Bittlebrains's general parts, entertained a high opinion of the
acuteness of his judgment in all matters of self-interest.

"I wish Lady Ashton had seen this," was his internal reflection; "no man
knows so well as Bittlebrains on which side his bread is buttered; and
he fawns on the Master like a beggar's messan on a cook. And my lady,
too, bringing forward her beetle-browed misses to skirl and play upon
the virginals, as if she said, 'Pick and choose.' They are no more
comparable to Lucy than an owl is to a cygnet, and so they may carry
their black brows to a farther market."

The entertainment being ended, our travellers, who had still to measure
the longest part of their journey, resumed their horses; and after the
Lord Keeper, the Master, and the domestics had drunk doch-an-dorroch,
or the stirrup-cup, in the liquors adapted to their various ranks, the
cavalcade resumed its progress.

It was dark by the time they entered the avenue of Ravenswood Castle, a
long straight line leading directly to the front of the house, flanked
with huge elm-trees, which sighed to the night-wind, as if they
compassionated the heir of their ancient proprietors, who now returned
to their shades in the society, and almost in the retinue, of their new
master. Some feelings of the same kind oppressed the mind of the Master
himself. He gradually became silent, adn dropped a little behind the
lady, at whose bridle-rein he had hitherto waited with such devotion.
He well recollected the period when, at the same hour in the evening, he
had accompanied his father, as that nobleman left, never again to
return to it, the mansion from which he derived his name and title. The
extensive front of the old castle, on which he remembered having often
looked back, was then "as black as mourning weed." The same front now
glanced with many lights, some throwing far forward into the night
a fixed and stationary blaze, and others hurrying from one window to
another, intimating the bustle and busy preparation preceding their
arrival, which had been intimated by an avant-courier. The contrast
pressed so strongly upon the Master's heart as to awaken some of the
sterner feelings with which he had been accustomed to regard the new
lord of his paternal domain, and to impress his countenance with an air
of severe gravity, when, alighted from his horse, he stood in the hall
no longer his own, surrounded by the numerous menials of its present
owner.

The Lord Keeper, when about to welcome him with the cordiality which
their late intercourse seemed to render proper, became aware of the
change, refrained from his purpose, and only intimated the ceremony of
reception by a deep reverence to his guest, seeming thus delicately to
share the feelings which predominated on his brow.

Two upper domestics, bearing each a huge pair of silver candlesticks,
now marshalled the company into a large saloon, or withdrawing-room,
where new alterations impressed upon Ravenswood the superior wealth of
the present inhabitants of the castle. The mouldering tapestry, which,
in his father's time, had half covered the walls of this stately
apartment, and half streamed from them in tatters, had given place to
a complete finishing of wainscot, the cornice of which, as well as the
frames of the various compartments, were ornamented with festoons of
flowers and with birds, which, though carved in oak, seemed, such was
the art of the chisel, actually to swell their throats and flutter their
wings. Several old family portraits of armed heroes of the house of
Ravenswood, together with a suit or two of old armour and some military
weapons, had given place to those of King William and Queen Mary, or
Sir Thomas Hope and Lord Stair, two distinguished Scottish lawyers. The
pictures of the Lord Keeper's father and mother were also to be seen;
the latter, sour, shrewish, and solemn, in her black hood and close
pinners, with a book of devotion in her hand; the former, exhibiting
beneath a black silk Geneva cowl, or skull-cap, which sate as close to
the head as if it had been shaven, a pinched, peevish, Puritanical set
of features, terminating in a hungry, reddish, peaked beard, forming on
the whole a countenance in the expression of which the hypocrite seemed
to contend with the miser and the knave. "And it is to make room for
such scarecrows as these," thought Ravenswood, "that my ancestors have
been torn down from the walls which they erected!" he looked at them
again, and, as he looked, the recollection of Lucy Ashton, for she
had not entered the apartment with them, seemed less lively in his
imagination. There were also two or three Dutch drolleries, as the
pictures of Ostade and Teniers were then termed, with one good painting
of the Italian school. There was, besides, a noble full-length of the
Lord Keeper in his robes of office, placed beside his lady in silk and
ermine, a haughty beauty, bearing in her looks all the pride of
the house of Douglas, from which she was descended. The painter,
notwithstanding his skill, overcome by the reality, or, perhaps, from a
suppressed sense of humour, had not been able to give the husband on the
canvas that air of awful rule and right supremacy which indicates the
full possession of domestic authority. It was obvious at the first
glance that, despite mace and gold frogs, the Lord Keeper was somewhat
henpecked. The floor of this fine saloon was laid with rich carpets,
huge fires blazed in the double chimneys, and ten silver sconces,
reflecting with their bright plates the lights which they supported,
made the whole seem as brilliant as day.

"Would you choose any refreshment, Master?" said Sir William Ashton, not
unwilling to break the awkward silence.

He received no answer, the Master being so busily engaged in marking the
various changes which had taken place in the apartment, that he
hardly heard the Lord Keeper address him. A repetition of the offer of
refreshment, with the addition, that the family meal would be presently
ready, compelled his attention, and reminded him that he acted a weak,
perhaps even a ridiculous, part in suffering himself to be overcome
by the circumstances in which he found himself. He compelled himself,
therefore, to enter into conversation with Sir William Ashton, with as
much appearance of indifference as he could well command.

"You will not be surprised, Sir William, that I am interested in the
changes you have made for the better in this apartment. In my father's
time, after our misfortunes compelled him to live in retirement, it was
little used, except by me as a play-room, when the weather would not
permit me to go abroad. In that recess was my little workshop, where I
treasured the few carpenters' tools which old Caleb procured for me,
and taught me how to use; there, in yonder corner, under that handsome
silver sconce, I kept my fishing-rods and hunting poles, bows and
arrows."

"I have a young birkie," said the Lord Keeper, willing to change the
tone of the conversation, "of much the same turn. He is never happy save
when he is in the field. I wonder he is not here. Here, Lockhard; send
William Shaw for Mr. Henry. I suppose he is, as usual, tied to Lucy's
apron-string; that foolish girl, Master, draws the whole family after
her at her pleasure."

Even this allusion to his daughter, though artfully thrown out, did not
recall Ravenswood from his own topic. "We were obliged to leave," he
said, "some armour and portraits in this apartment; may I ask where they
have been removed to?"

"Why," answered the Keeper, with some hesitation, "the room was fitted
up in our absence, and cedant arma togae is the maxim of lawyers, you
know: I am afraid it has been here somewhat too literally complied with.
I hope--I believe they are safe, I am sure I gave orders; may I hope
that when they are recovered, and put in proper order, you will do
me the honour to accept them at my hand, as an atonement for their
accidental derangement?"

The Master of Ravenswood bowed stiffly, and, with folded arms, again
resumed his survey of the room.

Henry, a spoilt boy of fifteen, burst into the room, and ran up to
his father. "Think of Lucy, papa; she has come home so cross and so
fractious, that she will not go down to the stable to see my new pony,
that Bob Wilson brought from the Mull of Galloway."

"I think you were very unreasonable to ask her," said the Keeper.

"Then you are as cross as she is," answered the boy; "but when mamma
comes home, she'll claw up both your mittens."

"Hush your impertinence, you little forward imp!" said his father;
"where is your tutor?"

"Gone to a wedding at Dunbar; I hope he'll get a haggis to his dinner";
and he began to sing the old Scottish song:

"There was a haggis in Dunbar, Fal de ral, etc. Mony better and few
waur, Fal de ral," etc.

"I am much obliged to Mr. Cordery for his attentions," said the Lord
Keeper; "and pray who has had the charge of you while I was away, Mr.
Henry?"

"Norman and Bob Wilson, forbye my own self."

"A groom and a gamekeeper, and your own silly self--proper guardians
for a young advocate! Why, you will never know any statutes but those
against shooting red-deer, killing salmon, and----"