In the meanwhile, the name of the Duke of Buckingham, the omnipotent
favourite both of the king and the Prince of Wales, had struck some
anxiety into the party which remained in the great parlour. He was
more feared than beloved, and, if not absolutely of a tyrannical
disposition, was accounted haughty, violent, and vindictive. It
pressed on Nigel's heart, that he himself, though he could not
conceive how, nor why, might be the original cause of the resentment
of the Duke against his benefactor. The others made their comments in
whispers, until the sounds reached Ramsay, who had not heard a word of
what had previously passed, but, plunged in those studies with which
he connected every other incident and event, took up only the
catchword, and replied,--"The Duke--the Duke of Buckingham--George
Villiers--ay--I have spoke with Lambe about him."

"Our Lord and our Lady! Now, how can you say so, father?" said his
daughter, who had shrewdness enough to see that her father was
touching upon dangerous ground.

"Why, ay, child," answered Ramsay; "the stars do but incline, they
cannot compel. But well you wot, it is commonly said of his Grace, by
those who have the skill to cast nativities, that there was a notable
conjunction of Mars and Saturn--the apparent or true time of which,
reducing the calculations of Eichstadius made for the latitude of
Oranienburgh, to that of London, gives seven hours, fifty-five
minutes, and forty-one seconds----"

"Hold your peace, old soothsayer," said Heriot, who at that instant
entered the room with a calm and steady countenance; "your
calculations are true and undeniable when they regard brass and wire,
and mechanical force; but future events are at the pleasure of Him who
bears the hearts of kings in his hands."

"Ay, but, George," answered the watchmaker, "there was a concurrence
of signs at this gentleman's birth, which showed his course would be a
strange one. Long has it been said of him, he was born at the very
meeting of night and day, and under crossing and contending influences
that may affect both us and him.

    'Full moon and high sea,
     Great man shalt thou be;
     Red dawning, stormy sky,
     Bloody death shalt thou die.'"

"It is not good to speak of such things," said Heriot, "especially of
the great; stone walls have ears, and a bird of the air shall carry
the matter."

Several of the guests seemed to be of their host's opinion. The two
merchants took brief leave, as if under consciousness that something
was wrong. Mistress Margaret, her body-guard of 'prentices being in
readiness, plucked her father by the sleeve, and, rescuing him from a
brown study, (whether referring to the wheels of Time, or to that of
Fortune, is uncertain,) wished good-night to her friend Mrs. Judith,
and received her godfather's blessing, who, at the same time, put upon
her slender finger a ring of much taste and some value; for he seldom
suffered her to leave him without some token of his affection. Thus
honourably dismissed, and accompanied by her escort, she set forth on
her return to Fleet Street.

Sir Mungo had bid adieu to Master Heriot as he came out from the back
compting-room, but such was the interest which he took in the affairs
of his friend, that, when Master George went upstairs, he could not
help walking into that sanctum sanctorum, to see how Master Roberts
was employed. The knight found the cash-keeper busy in making extracts
from those huge brass-clasped leathern-bound manuscript folios, which
are the pride and trust of dealers, and the dread of customers whose
year of grace is out. The good knight leant his elbows on the desk,
and said to the functionary in a condoling tone of voice,--"What! you
have lost a good customer, I fear, Master Roberts, and are busied in
making out his bill of charges?"

Now, it chanced that Roberts, like Sir Mungo himself, was a little
deaf, and, like Sir Mungo, knew also how to make the most of it; so
that he answered at cross purposes,--"I humbly crave your pardon, Sir
Mungo, for not having sent in your bill of charge sooner, but my
master bade me not disturb you. I will bring the items together in a
moment." So saying, he began to turn over the leaves of his book of
fate, murmuring, "Repairing ane silver seal-new clasp to his chain of
office--ane over-gilt brooch to his hat, being a Saint Andrew's cross,
with thistles--a copper gilt pair of spurs,--this to Daniel Driver, we
not dealing in the article."

He would have proceeded; but Sir Mungo, not prepared to endure the
recital of the catalogue of his own petty debts, and still less
willing to satisfy them on the spot, wished the bookkeeper,
cavalierly, good-night, and left the house without farther ceremony.
The clerk looked after him with a civil city sneer, and immediately
resumed the more serious labours which Sir Mungo's intrusion had
interrupted.




CHAPTER VII


  Things needful we have thought on; but the thing
  Of all most needful--that which Scripture terms,
  As if alone it merited regard,
  The ONE thing needful--that's yet unconsider'd.
                       _The Chamberlain._

When the rest of the company had taken their departure from Master
Heriot's house, the young Lord of Glenvarloch also offered to take
leave; but his host detained him for a few minutes, until all were
gone excepting the clergyman.

"My lord," then said the worthy citizen, "we have had our permitted
hour of honest and hospitable pastime, and now I would fain delay you
for another and graver purpose, as it is our custom, when we have the
benefit of good Mr. Windsor's company, that he reads the prayers of
the church for the evening before we separate. Your excellent father,
my lord, would not have departed before family worship--I hope the
same from your lordship."

"With pleasure, sir," answered Nigel; "and you add in the invitation
an additional obligation to those with which you have loaded me. When
young men forget what is their duty, they owe deep thanks to the
friend who will remind them of it."

While they talked together in this manner, the serving-men had removed
the folding-tables, brought forward a portable reading-desk, and
placed chairs and hassocks for their master, their mistress, and the
noble stranger. Another low chair, or rather a sort of stool, was
placed close beside that of Master Heriot; and though the circumstance
was trivial, Nigel was induced to notice it, because, when about to
occupy that seat, he was prevented by a sign from the old gentleman,
and motioned to another of somewhat more elevation. The clergyman took
his station behind the reading-desk. The domestics, a numerous family
both of clerks and servants, including Moniplies, attended, with great
gravity, and were accommodated with benches.

The household were all seated, and, externally at least, composed to
devout attention, when a low knock was heard at the door of the
apartment; Mrs. Judith looked anxiously at her brother, as if desiring
to know his pleasure. He nodded his head gravely, and looked to the
door. Mrs. Judith immediately crossed the chamber, opened the door,
and led into the apartment a beautiful creature, whose sudden and
singular appearance might have made her almost pass for an apparition.
She was deadly pale-there was not the least shade of vital red to
enliven features, which were exquisitely formed, and might, but for
that circumstance, have been termed transcendently beautiful. Her long
black hair fell down over her shoulders and down her back, combed
smoothly and regularly, but without the least appearance of decoration
or ornament, which looked very singular at a period when head-gear, as
it was called, of one sort or other, was generally used by all ranks.
Her dress was of white, of the simplest fashion, and hiding all her
person excepting the throat, face, and hands. Her form was rather
beneath than above the middle size, but so justly proportioned and
elegantly made, that the spectator's attention was entirely withdrawn
from her size. In contradiction of the extreme plainness of all the
rest of her attire, she wore a necklace which a duchess might have
envied, so large and lustrous were the brilliants of which it was
composed; and around her waist a zone of rubies of scarce inferior
value.

When this singular figure entered the apartment, she cast her eyes on
Nigel, and paused, as if uncertain whether to advance or retreat. The
glance which she took of him seemed to be one rather of uncertainty
and hesitation, than of bashfulness or timidity. Aunt Judith took her
by the hand, and led her slowly forward--her dark eyes, however,
continued to be fixed on Nigel, with an expression of melancholy by
which he felt strangely affected. Even when she was seated on the
vacant stool, which was placed there probably for her accommodation,
she again looked on him more than once with the same pensive,
lingering, and anxious expression, but without either shyness or
embarrassment, not even so much as to call the slightest degree of
complexion into her cheek.

So soon as this singular female had taken up the prayer-book, which
was laid upon her cushion, she seemed immersed in devotional duty; and
although Nigel's attention to the service was so much disturbed by
this extraordinary apparition, that he looked towards her repeatedly
in the course of the service, he
could never observe that her eyes or her thoughts strayed so much as a
single moment from the task in which she was engaged. Nigel himself
was less attentive, for the appearance of this lady seemed so
extraordinary, that, strictly as he had been bred up by his father to
pay the most reverential attention during performance of divine
service, his thoughts in spite of himself were disturbed by her
presence, and he earnestly wished the prayers were ended, that his
curiosity might obtain some gratification. When the service was
concluded, and each had remained, according to the decent and edifying
practice of the church, concentrated in mental devotion for a short
space, the mysterious visitant arose ere any other person stirred; and
Nigel remarked that none of the domestics left their places, oreven
moved, until she had first kneeled on one knee to Heriot, who seemed
to bless her with his hand laid on her head, and a melancholy
solemnity of look and action. She then bended her body, but without
kneeling, to Mrs. Judith, and having performed these two acts of
reverence, she left the room; yet just in the act of her departure,
she once more turned her penetrating eyes on Nigel with a fixed look,
which compelled him to turn his own aside. When he looked towards her
again, he saw only the skirt of her white mantle as she left the
apartment.

The domestics then rose and dispersed themselves--wine, and fruit, and
spices, were offered to Lord Nigel and to the clergyman, and the
latter took his leave. The young lord would fain have accompanied him,
in hope to get some explanation of the apparition which he had beheld,
but he was stopped by his host, who requested to speak with him in his
compting-room.

"I hope, my lord," said the citizen, "that your preparations for
attending Court are in such forwardness that you can go thither the
day after to-morrow. It is, perhaps, the last day, for some time, that
his Majesty will hold open Court for all who have pretensions by
birth, rank, or office to attend upon him. On the subsequent day he
goes to Theobald's, where he is so much occupied with hunting and
other pleasures, that he cares not to be intruded on."

"I shall be in all outward readiness to pay my duty," said the young
nobleman, "yet I have little heart to do it. The friends from whom I
ought to have found encouragement and protection, have proved cold and
false--I certainly will not trouble _them_ for their countenance on
this occasion--and yet I must confess my childish unwillingness to
enter quite alone upon so new a scene."

"It is bold of a mechanic like me to make such an offer to a
nobleman," said Heriot; "but I must attend at Court to-morrow. I can
accompany you as far as the presence-chamber, from my privilege as
being of the household. I can facilitate your entrance, should you
find difficulty, and I can point out the proper manner and time of
approaching the king. But I do not know," he added, smiling, "whether
these little advantages will not be overbalanced by the incongruity of
a nobleman receiving them from the hands of an old smith."

"From the hands rather of the only friend I have found in London,"
said Nigel, offering his hand.

"Nay, if you think of the matter in that way," replied the honest
citizen, "there is no more to be said--I will come for you to-morrow,
with a barge proper to the occasion.--But remember, my good young
lord, that I do not, like some men of my degree, wish to take
opportunity to step beyond it, and associate with my superiors in
rank, and therefore do not fear to mortify my presumption, by
suffering me to keep my distance in the presence, and where it is
fitting for both of us to separate; and for what remains, most truly
happy shall I be in proving of service to the son of my ancient
patron."

The style of conversation led so far from the point which had
interested the young nobleman's curiosity, that there was no returning
to it that night. He therefore exchanged thanks and greetings with
George Heriot, and took his leave, promising to be equipped and in
readiness to embark with him on the second successive morning at ten
o'clock.

The generation of linkboys, celebrated by Count Anthony Hamilton, as
peculiar to London, had already, in the reign of James I., begun their
functions, and the service of one of them with his smoky torch, had
been secured to light the young Scottish lord and his follower to
their lodgings, which, though better acquainted than formerly with the
city, they might in the dark have run some danger of missing. This
gave the ingenious Mr. Moniplies an opportunity of gathering close up
to his master, after he had gone through the form of slipping his left
arm into the handles of his buckler, and loosening his broadsword in
the sheath, that he might be ready for whatever should befall.

"If it were not for the wine and the good cheer which we have had in
yonder old man's house, my lord," said this sapient follower, "and
that I ken him by report to be a just living man in many respects, and
a real Edinburgh gutterblood, I should have been well pleased to have
seen how his feet were shaped, and whether he had not a cloven cloot
under the braw roses and cordovan shoon of his."

"Why, you rascal," answered Nigel, "you have been too kindly treated,
and now that you have filled your ravenous stomach, you are railing on
the good gentleman that relieved you."

"Under favour, no, my lord," said Moniplies,--"I would only like to
see something mair about him. I have eaten his meat, it is true--more
shame that the like of him should have meat to give, when your
lordship and me could scarce have gotten, on our own account, brose
and a bear bannock--I have drunk his wine, too."

"I see you have," replied his master, "a great deal more than you
should have done."

"Under your patience, my lord," said Moniplies, "you are pleased to
say that, because I crushed a quart with that jolly boy Jenkin, as
they call the 'prentice boy, and that was out of mere acknowledgment
for his former kindness--I own that I, moreover, sung the good old
song of Elsie Marley, so as they never heard it chanted in their
lives----"

And withal (as John Bunyan says) as they went on their way, he sung--

    "O, do ye ken Elsie Marley, honey--
     The wife that sells the barley, honey?
     For Elsie Marley's grown sae fine,
     She winna get up to feed the swine.--
         O, do ye ken----"

Here in mid career was the songster interrupted by the stern gripe of
his master, who threatened to baton him to death if he brought the
city-watch upon them by his ill-timed melody.

"I crave pardon, my lord--I humbly crave pardon--only when I think of
that Jen Win, as they call him, I can hardly help humming--'O, do ye
ken'--But I crave your honour's pardon, and will be totally dumb, if
you command me so."

"No, sirrah!" said Nigel, "talk on, for I well know you would say and
suffer more under pretence of holding your peace, than when you get an
unbridled license. How is it, then? What have you to say against
Master Heriot?"

It seems more than probable, that in permitting this license, the
young lord hoped his attendant would stumble upon the subject of the
young lady who had appeared at prayers in a manner so mysterious. But
whether this was the case, or whether he merely desired that Moniplies
should utter, in a subdued and under tone of voice, those spirits
which might otherwise have vented themselves in obstreperous song, it
is certain he permitted his attendant to proceed with his story in his
own way.

"And therefore," said the orator, availing himself of his immunity, "I
would like to ken what sort of carle this Maister Heriot is. He hath
supplied your lordship with wealth of gold, as I can understand; and
if he has, I make it for certain he hath had his ain end in it,
according to the fashion of the world. Now, had your lordship your own
good lands at your guiding, doubtless this person, with most of his
craft--goldsmiths they call themselves--I say usurers--wad be glad to
exchange so many pounds of African dust, by whilk I understand gold,
against so many fair acres, and hundreds of acres, of broad Scottish
land."

"But you know I have no land," said the young lord, "at least none
that can be affected by any debt which I can at present become obliged
for--I think you need not have reminded me of that."

"True, my lord, most true; and, as your lordship says, open to the
meanest capacity, without any unnecessary expositions. Now, therefore,
my lord, unless Maister George Heriot has something mair to allege as
a motive for his liberality, vera different from the possession of
your estate--and moreover, as he could gain little by the capture of
your body, wherefore should it not be your soul that he is in pursuit
of?"

"My soul, you rascal!" said the young lord; "what good should my soul
do him?"

"What do I ken about that?" said Moniplies; "they go about roaring and
seeking whom they may devour--doubtless, they like the food that they
rage so much about--and, my lord, they say," added Moniplies, drawing
up still closer to his master's side, "they say that Master Heriot has
one spirit in his house already."

"How, or what do you mean?" said Nigel; "I will break your head, you
drunken knave, if you palter with me any longer."

"Drunken?" answered his trusty adherent, "and is this the story?--why,
how could I but drink your lordship's health on my bare knees, when
Master Jenkin began it to me?--hang them that would not--I would have
cut the impudent knave's hams with my broadsword, that should make
scruple of it, and so have made him kneel when he should have found it
difficult to rise again. But touching the spirit," he proceeded,
finding that his master made no answer to his valorous tirade, "your
lordship has seen her with your own eyes."

"I saw no spirit," said Glenvarloch, but yet breathing thick as one
who expects some singular disclosure, "what mean you by a spirit?"

"You saw a young lady come in to prayers, that spoke not a word to any
one, only made becks and bows to the old gentleman and lady of the
house--ken ye wha she is?"

"No, indeed," answered Nigel; "some relation of the family, I
suppose."

"Deil a bit--deil a bit," answered Moniplies, hastily, "not a blood-
drop's kin to them, if she had a drop of blood in her body--I tell you
but what all human beings allege to be truth, that swell within hue
and cry of Lombard Street--that lady, or quean, or whatever you choose
to call her, has been dead in the body these many a year, though she
haunts them, as we have seen, even at their very devotions."

"You will allow her to be a good spirit at least," said Nigel
Olifaunt, "since she chooses such a time to visit her friends?"

"For that I kenna, my lord," answered the superstitious follower; "I
ken no spirit that would have faced the right down hammer-blow of Mess
John Knox, whom my father stood by in his very warst days, bating a
chance time when the Court, which my father supplied with butcher-
meat, was against him. But yon divine has another airt from powerful
Master Rollock, and Mess David Black, of North Leith, and sic like.--
Alack-a-day! wha can ken, if it please your lordship, whether sic
prayers as the Southron read out of their auld blethering black mess-
book there, may not be as powerful to invite fiends, as a right red-
het prayer warm fraw the heart, may be powerful to drive them away,
even as the Evil Spirit was driven by he smell of the fish's liver
from the bridal-chamber of Sara, the daughter of Raguel? As to whilk
story, nevertheless, I make scruple to say whether it be truth or not,
better men than I am having doubted on that matter."

"Well, well, well," said his master, impatiently, "we are now near
home, and I have permitted you to speak of this matter for once, that
we may have an end to your prying folly, and your idiotical
superstitions, for ever. For whom do you, or your absurd authors or
informers, take this lady?"

"I can sae naething preceesely as to that," answered Moniplies;
"certain it is her body died and was laid in the grave many a day
since, notwithstanding she still wanders on earth, and chiefly amongst
Maister Heriot's family, though she hath been seen in other places by
them that well knew her. But who she is, I will not warrant to say, or
how she becomes attached, like a Highland Brownie, to some peculiar
family. They say she has a row of apartments of her own, ante-room,
parlour, and bedroom; but deil a bed she sleeps in but her own coffin,
and the walls, doors, and windows are so chinked up, as to prevent the
least blink of daylight from entering; and then she dwells by
torchlight--"

"To what purpose, if she be a spirit?" said Nigel Olifaunt.

"How can I tell your lordship?" answered his attendant. "I thank God I
know nothing of her likings, or mislikings--only her coffin is there;
and I leave your lordship to guess what a live person has to do with a
coffin. As little as a ghost with a lantern, I trow."

"What reason," repeated Nigel, "can a creature, so young and so
beautiful, have already habitually to contemplate her bed of last-long
rest?"

"In troth, I kenna, my lord," answered Moniplies; "but there is the
coffin, as they told me who have seen it: it is made of heben-wood,
with silver nails, and lined all through with three-piled damask,
might serve a princess to rest in."

"Singular," said Nigel, whose brain, like that of most active young
spirits, was easily caught by the singular and the romantic; "does she
not eat with the family?"

"Who!--she!"--exclaimed Moniplies, as if surprised at the question;
"they would need a lang spoon would sup with her, I trow. Always there
is something put for her into the Tower, as they call it, whilk is a
whigmaleery of a whirling-box, that turns round half on the tae side
o' the wa', half on the tother."

"I have seen the contrivance in foreign nunneries," said the Lord of
Glenvarloch. "And is it thus she receives her food?"

"They tell me something is put in ilka day, for fashion's sake,"
replied the attendant; "but it's no to be supposed she would consume
it, ony mair than the images of Bel and the Dragon consumed the dainty
vivers that were placed before them. There are stout yeomen and
chamber-queans in the house, enow to play the part of Lick-it-up-a',
as well as the threescore and ten priests of Bel, besides their wives
and children."

"And she is never seen in the family but when the hour of prayer
arrives?" said the master.

"Never, that I hear of," replied the servant.

"It is singular," said Nigel Olifaunt, musing. "Were it not for the
ornaments which she wears, and still more for her attendance upon the
service of the Protestant Church, I should know what to think, and
should believe her either a Catholic votaress, who, for some cogent
reason, was allowed to make her cell here in London, or some unhappy
Popish devotee, who was in the course of undergoing a dreadful
penance. As it is, I know not what to deem of it."

His reverie was interrupted by the linkboy knocking at the door of
honest John Christie, whose wife came forth with "quips, and becks,
and wreathed smiles," to welcome her honoured guest on his return to
his apartment.




CHAPTER VIII


  Ay! mark the matron well--and laugh not, Harry,
  At her old steeple-hat and velvet guard--
  I've call'd her like the ear of Dionysius;
  I mean that ear-form'd vault, built o'er his dungeon,
  To catch the groans and discontented murmurs
  Of his poor bondsmen--Even so doth Martha
  Drink up, for her own purpose, all that passes,
  Or is supposed to pass, in this wide city--
  She can retail it too, if that her profit
  Shall call on her to do so; and retail it
  For your advantage, so that you can make
  Your profit jump with hers.
                            The Conspiracy.

We must now introduce to the reader's acquaintance another character,
busy and important far beyond her ostensible situation in society--in
a word, Dame Ursula Suddlechop, wife of Benjamin Suddlechop, the most
renowned barber in all Fleet Street. This dame had her own particular
merits, the principal part of which was (if her own report could be
trusted) an infinite desire to be of service to her fellow-creatures.
Leaving to her thin half-starved partner the boast of having the most
dexterous snap with his fingers of any shaver in London, and the care
of a shop where starved apprentices flayed the faces of those who were
boobies enough to trust them, the dame drove a separate and more
lucrative trade, which yet had so many odd turns and windings, that it
seemed in many respects to contradict itself.

Its highest and most important duties were of a very secret and
confidential nature, and Dame Ursula Suddlechop was never known to
betray any transaction intrusted to her, unless she had either been
indifferently paid for her service, or that some one found it
convenient to give her a double douceur to make her disgorge the
secret; and these contingencies happened in so few cases, that her
character for trustiness remained as unimpeached as that for honesty
and benevolence.

In fact, she was a most admirable matron, and could be useful to the
impassioned and the frail in the rise, progress, and consequences of
their passion. She could contrive an interview for lovers who could
show proper reasons for meeting privately; she could relieve the frail
fair one of the burden of a guilty passion, and perhaps establish the
hopeful offspring of unlicensed love as the heir of some family whose
love was lawful, but where an heir had not followed the union. More
than this she could do, and had been concerned in deeper and dearer
secrets. She had been a pupil of Mrs. Turner, and learned from her the
secret of making the yellow starch, and, it may be, two or three other
secrets of more consequence, though perhaps none that went to the
criminal extent of those whereof her mistress was accused. But all
that was deep and dark in her real character was covered by the show
of outward mirth and good-humour, the hearty laugh and buxom jest with
which the dame knew well how to conciliate the elder part of her
neighbours, and the many petty arts by which she could recommend
herself to the younger, those especially of her own sex.

Dame Ursula was, in appearance, scarce past forty, and her full, but
not overgrown form, and still comely features, although her person was
plumped out, and her face somewhat coloured by good cheer, had a
joyous expression of gaiety and good-humour, which set off the remains
of beauty in the wane. Marriages, births, and christenings were seldom
thought to be performed with sufficient ceremony, for a considerable
distance round her abode, unless Dame Ursley, as they called her, was
present. She could contrive all sorts of pastimes, games, and jests,
which might amuse the large companies which the hospitality of our
ancestors assembled together on such occasions, so that her presence
was literally considered as indispensable in the families of all
citizens of ordinary rank, at such joyous periods. So much also was
she supposed to know of life and its labyrinths, that she was the
willing confidant of half the loving couples in the vicinity, most of
whom used to communicate their secrets to, and receive their counsel
from, Dame Ursley. The rich rewarded her services with rings, owches,
or gold pieces, which she liked still better; and she very generously
gave her assistance to the poor, on the same mixed principles as young
practitioners in medicine assist them, partly from compassion, and
partly to keep her hand in use.

Dame Ursley's reputation in the city was the greater that her practice
had extended beyond Temple Bar, and that she had acquaintances, nay,
patrons and patronesses, among the quality, whose rank, as their
members were much fewer, and the prospect of approaching the courtly
sphere much more difficult, bore a degree of consequence unknown to
the present day, when the toe of the citizen presses so close on the
courtier's heel. Dame Ursley maintained her intercourse with this
superior rank of customers, partly by driving a small trade in
perfumes, essences, pomades, head-gears from France, dishes or
ornaments from China, then already beginning to be fashionable; not to
mention drugs of various descriptions, chiefly for the use of the
ladies, and partly by other services, more or less connected with the
esoteric branches of her profession heretofore alluded to.

Possessing such and so many various modes of thriving, Dame Ursley was
nevertheless so poor, that she might probably have mended her own
circumstances, as well as her husband's, if she had renounced them
all, and set herself quietly down to the care of her own household,
and to assist Benjamin in the concerns of his trade. But Ursula was
luxurious and genial in her habits, and could no more have endured the
stinted economy of Benjamin's board, than she could have reconciled
herself to the bald chat of his conversation.

It was on the evening of the day on which Lord Nigel Olifaunt dined
with the wealthy goldsmith, that we must introduce Ursula Suddlechop
upon the stage. She had that morning made a long tour to Westminster,
was fatigued, and had assumed a certain large elbow-chair, rendered
smooth by frequent use, placed on one side of her chimney, in which
there was lit a small but bright fire. Here she observed, betwixt
sleeping and waking, the simmering of a pot of well-spiced ale, on the
brown surface of which bobbed a small crab-apple, sufficiently
roasted, while a little mulatto girl watched, still more attentively,
the process of dressing a veal sweetbread, in a silver stewpan which
occupied the other side of the chimney. With these viands, doubtless,
Dame Ursula proposed concluding the well spent day, of which she
reckoned the labour over, and the rest at her own command. She was
deceived, however; for just as the ale, or, to speak technically, the
lamb's-wool, was fitted for drinking, and the little dingy maiden
intimated that the sweetbread was ready to be eaten, the thin cracked
voice of Benjamin was heard from the bottom of the stairs.

"Why, Dame Ursley--why, wife, I say--why, dame--why, love, you are
wanted more than a strop for a blunt razor--why, dame--"

"I would some one would draw a razor across thy windpipe, thou bawling
ass!" said the dame to herself, in the first moment of irritation
against her clamorous helpmate; and then called aloud,--"Why, what is
the matter, Master Suddlechop? I am just going to slip into bed; I
have been daggled to and fro the whole day."

"Nay, sweetheart, it is not me," said the patient Benjamin, "but the
Scots laundry-maid from neighbour Ramsay's, who must speak with you
incontinent."

At the word sweetheart, Dame Ursley cast a wistful look at the mess
which was stewed to a second in the stewpan, and then replied, with a
sigh,--"Bid Scots Jenny come up, Master Suddlechop. I shall be very
happy to hear what she has to say;" then added in a lower tone, "and I
hope she will go to the devil in the flame of a tar-barrel, like many
a Scots witch before her!"

The Scots laundress entered accordingly, and having heard nothing of
the last kind wish of Dame Suddlechop, made her reverence with
considerable respect, and said, her young mistress had returned home
unwell, and wished to see her neighbour, Dame Ursley, directly.

"And why will it not do to-morrow, Jenny, my good woman?" said Dame
Ursley; "for I have been as far as Whitehall to-day already, and I am
well-nigh worn off my feet, my good woman."

"Aweel!" answered Jenny, with great composure, "and if that sae be
sae, I maun take the langer tramp mysell, and maun gae down the
waterside for auld Mother Redcap, at the Hungerford Stairs, that deals
in comforting young creatures, e'en as you do yoursell, hinny; for ane
o' ye the bairn maun see before she sleeps, and that's a' that I ken
on't."

So saying, the old emissary, without farther entreaty, turned on her
heel, and was about to retreat, when Dame Ursley exclaimed,--"No, no--
if the sweet child, your mistress, has any necessary occasion for good
advice and kind tendance, you need not go to Mother Redcap, Janet. She
may do very well for skippers' wives, chandlers' daughters, and such
like; but nobody shall wait on pretty Mistress Margaret, the daughter
of his most Sacred Majesty's horologer, excepting and saving myself.
And so I will but take my chopins and my cloak, and put on my muffler,
and cross the street to neighbour Ramsay's in an instant. But tell me
yourself, good Jenny, are you not something tired of your young lady's
frolics and change of mind twenty times a-day?"

"In troth, not I," said the patient drudge, "unless it may be when she
is a wee fashious about washing her laces; but I have been her keeper
since she was a bairn, neighbour Suddlechop, and that makes a
difference."

"Ay," said Dame Ursley, still busied putting on additional defences
against the night air; "and you know for certain that she has two
hundred pounds a-year in good land, at her own free disposal?"

"Left by her grandmother, heaven rest her soul!" said the Scotswoman;
"and to a daintier lassie she could not have bequeathed it."

"Very true, very true, mistress; for, with all her little whims, I
have always said Mistress Margaret Ramsay was the prettiest girl in
the ward; and, Jenny, I warrant the poor child has had no supper?"

Jenny could not say but it was the case, for, her master being out,
the twa 'prentice lads had gone out after shutting shop, to fetch them
home, and she and the other maid had gone out to Sandy MacGivan's, to
see a friend frae Scotland.

"As was very natural, Mrs. Janet," said Dame Ursley, who found her
interest in assenting to all sorts of propositions from all sorts of
persons.

"And so the fire went out, too,"--said Jenny.

"Which was the most natural of the whole," said Dame Suddlechop; "and
so, to cut the matter short, Jenny, I'll carry over the little bit of
supper that I was going to eat. For dinner I have tasted none, and it
may be my young pretty Mistress Marget will eat a morsel with me; for
it is mere emptiness, Mistress Jenny, that often puts these fancies of
illness into young folk's heads." So saying, she put the silver
posset-cup with the ale into Jenny's hands and assuming her mantle
with the alacrity of one determined to sacrifice inclination to duty,
she hid the stewpan under its folds, and commanded Wilsa, the little
mulatto girl, to light them across the street.

"Whither away, so late?" said the barber, whom they passed seated with
his starveling boys round a mess of stockfish and parsnips, in the
shop below.

"If I were to tell you, Gaffer," said the dame, with most contemptuous
coolness, "I do not think you could do my errand, so I will e'en keep
it to myself." Benjamin was too much accustomed to his wife's
independent mode of conduct, to pursue his inquiry farther; nor did
the dame tarry for farther question, but marched out at the door,
telling the eldest of the boys "to sit up till her return, and look to
the house the whilst."

The night was dark and rainy, and although the distance betwixt the
two shops was short, it allowed Dame Ursley leisure enough, while she
strode along with high-tucked petticoats, to embitter it by the
following grumbling reflections--"I wonder what I have done, that I
must needs trudge at every old beldam's bidding, and every young
minx's maggot! I have been marched from Temple Bar to Whitechapel, on
the matter of a pinmaker's wife having pricked her fingers--marry, her
husband that made the weapon might have salved the wound.--And here is
this fantastic ape, pretty Mistress Marget, forsooth--such a beauty as
I could make of a Dutch doll, and as fantastic, and humorous, and
conceited, as if she were a duchess. I have seen her in the same day
as changeful as a marmozet and as stubborn as a mule. I should like to
know whether her little conceited noddle, or her father's old crazy
calculating jolter-pate, breeds most whimsies. But then there's that
two hundred pounds a-year in dirty land, and the father is held a
close chuff, though a fanciful--he is our landlord besides, and she
has begged a late day from him for our rent; so, God help me, I must
be comfortable--besides, the little capricious devil is my only key to
get at Master George Heriot's secret, and it concerns my character to
find that out; and so, ANDIAMOS, as the lingua franca hath it."

Thus pondering, she moved forward with hasty strides until she arrived
at the watchmaker's habitation. The attendant admitted them by means
of a pass-key. Onward glided Dame Ursula, now in glimmer and now in
gloom, not like the lovely Lady Cristabelle through Gothic sculpture
and ancient armour, but creeping and stumbling amongst relics of old
machines, and models of new inventions in various branches of
mechanics with which wrecks of useless ingenuity, either in a broken
or half-finished shape, the apartment of the fanciful though ingenious
mechanist was continually lumbered.

At length they attained, by a very narrow staircase, pretty Mistress
Margaret's apartment, where she, the cynosure of the eyes of every
bold young bachelor in Fleet Street, sat in a posture which hovered
between the discontented and the disconsolate. For her pretty back and
shoulders were rounded into a curve, her round and dimpled chin
reposed in the hollow of her little palm, while the fingers were
folded over her mouth; her elbow rested on a table, and her eyes
seemed fixed upon the dying charcoal, which was expiring in a small
grate. She scarce turned her head when Dame Ursula entered, and when
the presence of that estimable matron was more precisely announced in
words by the old Scotswoman, Mistress Margaret, without changing her
posture, muttered some sort of answer that was wholly unintelligible.

"Go your ways down to the kitchen with Wilsa, good Mistress Jenny,"
said Dame Ursula, who was used to all sorts of freaks, on the part of
her patients or clients, whichever they might be termed; "put the
stewpan and the porringer by the fireside, and go down below--I must
speak to my pretty love, Mistress Margaret, by myself--and there is
not a bachelor betwixt this and Bow but will envy me the privilege."

The attendants retired as directed, and Dame Ursula, having availed
herself of the embers of charcoal, to place her stewpan to the best
advantage, drew herself as close as she could to her patient, and
began in a low, soothing, and confidential tone of voice, to inquire
what ailed her pretty flower of neighbours.

"Nothing, dame," said Margaret somewhat pettishly, and changing her
posture so as rather to turn her back upon the kind inquirer.

"Nothing, lady-bird!" answered Dame Suddlechop; "and do you use to
send for your friends out of bed at this hour for nothing?"

"It was not I who sent for you, dame," replied the malecontent maiden.

"And who was it, then?" said Ursula; "for if I had not been sent for,
I had not been here at this time of night, I promise you!"

"It was the old Scotch fool Jenny, who did it out of her own head, I
suppose," said Margaret; "for she has been stunning me these two hours
about you and Mother Redcap."

"Me and Mother Redcap!" said Dame Ursula, "an old fool indeed, that
couples folk up so.--But come, come, my sweet little neighbour, Jenny
is no such fool after all; she knows young folks want more and better
advice than her own, and she knows, too, where to find it for them; so
you must take heart of grace, my pretty maiden, and tell me what you
are moping about, and then let Dame Ursula alone for finding out a
cure."

"Nay, an ye be so wise, Mother Ursula," replied the girl, "you may
guess what I ail without my telling you."

"Ay, ay, child," answered the complaisant matron, "no one can play
better than I at the good old game of What is my thought like? Now
I'll warrant that little head of yours is running on a new head-tire,
a foot higher than those our city dames wear--or you are all for a
trip to Islington or Ware, and your father is cross and will not
consent--or----"

"Or you are an old fool, Dame Suddlechop," said Margaret, peevishly,
"and must needs trouble yourself about matters you know nothing of."

"Fool as much as you will, mistress," said Dame Ursula, offended in
her turn, "but not so very many years older than yourself, mistress."

"Oh! we are angry, are we?" said the beauty; "and pray, Madam Ursula,
how come you, that are not so many years older than me, to talk about
such nonsense to me, who am so many years younger, and who yet have
too much sense to care about head-gears and Islington?"

"Well, well, young mistress," said the sage counsellor, rising, "I
perceive I can be of no use here; and methinks, since you know your
own matters so much better than other people do, you might dispense
with disturbing folks at midnight to ask their advice."

"Why, now you are angry, mother," said Margaret, detaining her; "this
comes of your coming out at eventide without eating your supper--I
never heard you utter a cross word after you had finished your little
morsel.--Here, Janet, a trencher and salt for Dame Ursula;--and what
have you in that porringer, dame?--Filthy clammy ale, as I would live
--Let Janet fling it out of the window, or keep it for my father's
morning draught; and she shall bring you the pottle of sack that was
set ready for him--good man, he will never find out the difference,
for ale will wash down his dusty calculations quite as well as wine."

"Truly, sweetheart, I am of your opinion," said Dame Ursula, whose
temporary displeasure vanished at once before these preparations for
good cheer; and so, settling herself on the great easy-chair, with a
three-legged table before her, she began to dispatch, with good
appetite, the little delicate dish which she had prepared for herself.
She did not, however, fail in the duties of civility, and earnestly,
but in vain, pressed Mistress Margaret to partake her dainties. The
damsel declined the invitation.

"At least pledge me in a glass of sack," said Dame Ursula; "I have
heard my grandame say, that before the gospellers came in, the old
Catholic father confessors and their penitents always had a cup of
sack together before confession; and you are my penitent."

"I shall drink no sack, I am sure," said Margaret; "and I told you
before, that if you cannot find out what ails me, I shall never have
the heart to tell it."

So saying, she turned away from Dame Ursula once more, and resumed her
musing posture, with her hand on her elbow, and her back, at least one
shoulder, turned towards her confidant.

"Nay, then," said Dame Ursula, "I must exert my skill in good
earnest.--You must give me this pretty hand, and I will tell you by
palmistry, as well as any gipsy of them all, what foot it is you halt
upon."

"As if I halted on any foot at all," said Margaret, something
scornfully, but yielding her left hand to Ursula, and continuing at
the same time her averted position.

"I see brave lines here," said Ursula, "and not ill to read neither--
pleasure and wealth, and merry nights and late mornings to my Beauty,
and such an equipage as shall shake Whitehall. O, have I touched you
there?--and smile you now, my pretty one?--for why should not he be
Lord Mayor, and go to Court in his gilded caroch, as others have done
before him?"

"Lord Mayor? pshaw!" replied Margaret.

"And why pshaw at my Lord Mayor, sweetheart? or perhaps you pshaw at
my prophecy; but there is a cross in every one's line of life as well
as in yours, darling. And what though I see a 'prentice's flat cap in
this pretty palm, yet there is a sparking black eye under it, hath not
its match in the Ward of Farringdon-Without."

"Whom do you mean, dame?" said Margaret coldly.

"Whom should I mean," said Dame Ursula, "but the prince of 'prentices,
and king of good company, Jenkin Vincent?"

"Out, woman--Jenkin Vincent?--a clown--a Cockney!" exclaimed the
indignant damsel.

"Ay, sets the wind in that quarter, Beauty!" quoth the dame; "why, it
has changed something since we spoke together last, for then I would
have sworn it blew fairer for poor Jin Vin; and the poor lad dotes on
you too, and would rather see your eyes than the first glimpse of the
sun on the great holiday on May-day."

"I would my eyes had the power of the sun to blind his, then," said
Margaret, "to teach the drudge his place."

"Nay," said Dame Ursula, "there be some who say that Frank Tunstall is
as proper a lad as Jin Vin, and of surety he is third cousin to a
knighthood, and come of a good house; and so mayhap you may be for
northward ho!"

"Maybe I may"--answered Margaret, "but not with my father's 'prentice
--I thank you, Dame Ursula."

"Nay, then, the devil may guess your thoughts for me," said Dame
Ursula; "this comes of trying to shoe a filly that is eternally
wincing and shifting ground!"

"Hear me, then," said Margaret, "and mind what I say.--This day I
dined abroad--"

"I can tell you where," answered her counsellor,--"with your godfather
the rich goldsmith--ay, you see I know something--nay, I could tell
you, as I would, with whom, too."

"Indeed!" said Margaret, turning suddenly round with an accent of
strong surprise, and colouring up to the eyes.

"With old Sir Mungo Malagrowther," said the oracular dame,--"he was
trimmed in my Benjamin's shop in his way to the city."

"Pshaw! the frightful old mouldy skeleton!" said the damsel.

"Indeed you say true, my dear," replied the confidant,--"it is a shame
to him to be out of Saint Pancras's charnel-house, for I know no other
place he is fit for, the foul-mouthed old railer. He said to my
husband--"

"Somewhat which signifies nothing to our purpose, I dare say,"
interrupted Margaret. "I must speak, then.--There dined with us a
nobleman--"

"A nobleman! the maiden's mad!" said Dame Ursula.

"There dined with us, I say," continued Margaret, without regarding
the interruption, "a nobleman--a Scottish nobleman."

"Now Our Lady keep her!" said the confidant, "she is quite frantic!--
heard ever any one of a watchmaker's daughter falling in love with a
nobleman--and a Scots nobleman, to make the matter complete, who are
all as proud as Lucifer, and as poor as Job?--A Scots nobleman,
quotha? I had lief you told me of a Jew pedlar. I would have you think
how all this is to end, pretty one, before you jump in the dark."

"That is nothing to you, Ursula--it is your assistance," said Mistress
Margaret, "and not your advice, that I am desirous to have, and you
know I can make it worth your while."

"O, it is not for the sake of lucre, Mistress Margaret," answered the
obliging dame; "but truly I would have you listen to some advice--
bethink you of your own condition."

"My father's calling is mechanical," said Margaret, "but our blood is
not so. I have heard my father say that we are descended, at a
distance indeed, from the great Earls of Dalwolsey." [Footnote: The
head of the ancient and distinguished house of Ramsay, and to whom, as
their chief, the individuals of that name look as their origin and
source of gentry. Allan Ramsay, the pastoral poet, in the same manner,
makes

    "Dalhousie of an auld descent,
     My chief, my stoup, my ornament."]

"Ay, ay," said Dame Ursula; "even so--I never knew a Scot of you but
was descended, as ye call it, from some great house or other; and a
piteous descent it often is--and as for the distance you speak of, it
is so great as to put you out of sight of each other. Yet do not toss
your pretty head so scornfully, but tell me the name of this lordly
northern gallant, and we will try what can be done in the matter."

"It is Lord Glenvarloch, whom they call Lord Nigel Olifaunt," said
Margaret in a low voice, and turning away to hide her blushes.

"Marry, Heaven forefend!" exclaimed Dame Suddlechop; "this is the very
devil, and something worse!"

"How mean you?" said the damsel, surprised at the vivacity of her
exclamation.

"Why, know ye not," said the dame, "what powerful enemies he has at
Court? know ye not--But blisters on my tongue, it runs too fast for my
wit--enough to say, that you had better make your bridal-bed under a
falling house, than think of young Glenvarloch."

"He IS unfortunate then?" said Margaret; "I knew it--I divined it--
there was sorrow in his voice when he said even what was gay--there
was a touch of misfortune in his melancholy smile--he had not thus
clung to my thoughts had I seen him in all the mid-day glare of
prosperity."

"Romances have cracked her brain!" said Dame Ursula; "she is a
castaway girl--utterly distraught--loves a Scots lord--and likes him
the better for being unfortunate! Well, mistress, I am sorry this is a
matter I cannot aid you in--it goes against my conscience, and it is
an affair above my condition, and beyond my management;--but I will
keep your counsel."

"You will not be so base as to desert me, after having drawn my secret
from me?" said Margaret, indignantly; "if you do, I know how to have
my revenge; and if you do not, I will reward you well. Remember the
house your husband dwells in is my father's property."

"I remember it but too well, Mistress Margaret," said Ursula, after a
moment's reflection, "and I would serve you in any thing in my
condition; but to meddle with such high matters--I shall never forget
poor Mistress Turner, my honoured patroness, peace be with her!--she
had the ill-luck to meddle in the matter of Somerset and Overbury, and
so the great earl and his lady slipt their necks out of the collar,
and left her and some half-dozen others to suffer in their stead. I
shall never forget the sight of her standing on the scaffold with
the ruff round her pretty neck, all done up with the yellow starch
which I had so often helped her to make, and that was so soon to give
place to a rough hempen cord. Such a sight, sweetheart, will make one
loath to meddle with matters that are too hot or heavy for their
handling."

"Out, you fool!" answered Mistress Margaret; "am I one to speak to you
about such criminal practices as that wretch died for? All I desire of
you is, to get me precise knowledge of what affair brings this young
nobleman to Court."

"And when you have his secret," said Ursula, "what will it avail you,
sweetheart?--and yet I would do your errand, if you could do as much
for me."

"And what is it you would have of me?" said Mistress Margaret.

"What you have been angry with me for asking before," answered Dame
Ursula. "I want to have some light about the story of your godfather's
ghost, that is only seen at prayers."

"Not for the world," said Mistress Margaret, "will I be a spy on my
kind godfather's secrets--No, Ursula--that I will never pry into,
which he desires to keep hidden. But thou knowest that I have a
fortune, of my own, which must at no distant day come under my own
management--think of some other recompense."

"Ay, that I well know," said the counsellor--"it is that two hundred
per year, with your father's indulgence, that makes you so wilful,
sweetheart."

"It may be so,"--said Margaret Ramsay; "meanwhile, do you serve me
truly, and here is a ring of value in pledge, that when my fortune is
in my own hand, I will redeem the token with fifty broad pieces of
gold."

"Fifty broad pieces of gold!" repeated the dame; "and this ring, which
is a right fair one, in token you fail not of your word!--Well,
sweetheart, if I must put my throat in peril, I am sure I cannot risk
it for a friend more generous than you; and I would not think of more
than the pleasure of serving you, only Benjamin gets more idle every
day, and our family----"

"Say no more of it," said Margaret; "we understand each other. And
now, tell me what you know of this young man's affairs, which made you
so unwilling to meddle with them?"

"Of that I can say no great matter as yet," answered Dame Ursula;
"only I know, the most powerful among his own countrymen are against
him, and also the most powerful at the Court here. But I will learn
more of it; for it will be a dim print that I will not read for your
sake, pretty Mistress Margaret. Know you where this gallant dwells?"

"I heard by accident," said Margaret, as if ashamed of the minute
particularity of her memory upon such an occasion,--"he lodges, I
think--at one Christie's--if I mistake not--at Paul's Wharf--a ship-
chandler's."

"A proper lodging for a young baron!--Well, but cheer you up, Mistress
Margaret--If he has come up a caterpillar, like some of his
countrymen, he may cast his slough like them, and come out a
butterfly.--So I drink good-night, and sweet dreams to you, in another
parting cup of sack; and you shall hear tidings of me within four-and-
twenty hours. And, once more, I commend you to your pillow, my pearl
of pearls, and Marguerite of Marguerites!"

So saying, she kissed the reluctant cheek of her young friend, or
patroness, and took her departure with the light and stealthy
pace of one accustomed to accommodate her footsteps to the purposes of
dispatch and secrecy.

Margaret Ramsay looked after her for some time, in anxious silence. "I
did ill," she at length murmured, "to let her wring this out of me;
but she is artful, bold and serviceable--and I think faithful--or, if
not, she will be true at least to her interest, and that I can
command. I would I had not spoken, however--I have begun a hopeless
work. For what has he said to me, to warrant my meddling in his
fortunes?--Nothing but words of the most ordinary import--mere table-
talk, and terms of course. Yet who knows"--she said, and then broke
off, looking at the glass the while, which, as it reflected back a
face of great beauty, probably suggested to her mind a more favourable
conclusion of the sentence than she cared to trust her tongue withal.




CHAPTER IX


  So pitiful a thing is suitor's state!
  Most miserable man, whom wicked fate
  Hath brought to Court to sue, for _had I wist_,
  That few have found, and many a one hath miss'd!
  Full little knowest thou, that hast not tried,
  What hell it is, in sueing long to bide:
  To lose good days that might be better spent;
  To waste long nights in pensive discontent;
  To speed to-day, to be put back to-morrow;
  To feed on hope, to pine with fear and sorrow;
  To have thy Prince's grace, yet want her Peers';
  To have thy asking, yet wait many years;
  To fret thy soul with crosses and with cares--
  To eat thy heart through comfortless despairs.
  To fawn, to crouch, to wait, to ride, to run,
  To spend, to give, to want, to be undone.
                          _Mother Hubbard's Tale._

On the morning of the day on which George Heriot had prepared to
escort the young Lord of Glenvarloch to the Court at Whitehall, it may
be reasonably supposed, that the young man, whose fortunes were likely
to depend on this cast, felt himself more than usually anxious. He
rose early, made his toilette with uncommon care, and, being enabled,
by the generosity of his more plebeian countryman, to set out a very
handsome person to the best advantage, he obtained a momentary
approbation from himself as he glanced at the mirror, and a loud and
distinct plaudit from his landlady, who declared at once, that, in her
judgment, he would take the wind out of the sail of every gallant in
the presence--so much had she been able to enrich her discourse with
the metaphors of those with whom her husband dealt.

At the appointed hour, the barge of Master George Heriot arrived,
handsomely manned and appointed, having a tilt, with his own cipher,
and the arms of his company, painted thereupon.