"And that," said the Abbot, "must have been right wretched; for to
judge from the appetite which Julian showeth when abroad, he hath not, I
judge, over-abundant provision at home."

"You are right, sir--your reverence is in the right," continued Sir
Piercie; "we had but lenten fare, and, what was worse, a score to
clear at the departure; for though this Julian Avenel called us to no
reckoning, yet he did so extravagantly admire the fashion of my
poniard--the _poignet_ being of silver exquisitely hatched, and
indeed the weapon being altogether a piece of exceeding rare device
and beauty--that in faith I could not for very shame's sake but pray
his acceptance of it; words which he gave me not the trouble of
repeating twice, before he had stuck it into his greasy buff-belt,
where, credit me, reverend sir, it showed more like a butcher's knife
than a gentleman's dagger."

"So goodly a gift might at least have purchased you a few days'
hospitality," said Father Eustace.

"Reverend sir," said Sir Piercie, "had I abidden with him, I should
have been complimented out of every remnant of my wardrobe--actually
flayed, by the hospitable gods I swear it! Sir, he secured my spare
doublet, and had a pluck at my galligaskins--I was enforced to beat a
retreat before I was altogether unrigged. That Border knave, his
serving man, had a pluck at me too, and usurped a scarlet cassock and
steel cuirass belonging to the page of my body, whom I was fain to
leave behind me. In good time I received a letter from my Right
Honourable Cousin, showing me that he had written to you in my behalf,
and sent to your charge two mails filled with wearing apparel--namely,
my rich crimson silk doublet, slashed out and lined with cloth of
gold, which I wore at the last revels, with baldric and trimmings to
correspond--also two pair black silk slops, with hanging garters of
carnation silk--also the flesh-coloured silken doublet, with the
trimmings of fur, in which I danced the salvage man at the Gray's-Inn
mummery--also----"

"Sir Knight," said the Sub-Prior, "I pray you to spare the farther
inventory of your wardrobe. The monks of Saint Mary's are no
free-booting barons, and whatever part of your vestments arrived at
our house, have been this day faithfully brought hither, with the
mails which contained them. I may presume from what has been said, as
we have indeed been, given to understand by the Earl of
Northumberland, that your desire is to remain for the present as
unknown and as unnoticed, as may be consistent with your high worth
and distinction?"

"Alas, reverend father!" replied the courtier, "a blade when it is in
the scabbard cannot give lustre, a diamond when it is in the casket
cannot give light, and worth, when it is compelled by circumstances to
obscure itself, cannot draw observation--my retreat can only attract
the admiration of those few to whom circumstances permit its
displaying itself."

"I conceive now, my venerable father and lord," said the Sub-Prior,
"that your wisdom will assign such a course of conduct to this noble
knight, as may be alike consistent with his safety, and with the weal
of the community.  For you wot well, that perilous strides have been
made in these audacious days, to the destruction of all ecclesiastical
foundations, and that our holy community has been repeatedly menaced.
Hitherto they have found no flaw in our raiment; but a party, friendly
as well to the Queen of England, as to the heretical doctrines of the
schismatical church, or even to worse and wilder forms of heresy,
prevails now at the court of our sovereign, who dare not yield to her
suffering clergy the protection she would gladly extend to them."

"My lord, and reverend sir," said the knight, "I will gladly relieve
you of my presence, while ye canvass this matter at your freedom; and
to speak truly, I am desirous to see in what case the chamberlain of
my noble kinsman hath found my wardrobe, and how he hath packed the
same, and whether it has suffered from the journey--there are four
suits of as pure and elegant device as ever the fancy of a fair lady
doated upon, every one having a treble, and appropriate change of
ribbons, trimmings, and fringes, which, in case of need, may as it
were renew each of them, and multiply the four into twelve.--There is
also my sad-coloured riding-suit, and three cut-work shirts with
falling bands--I pray you, pardon me--I must needs see how matters
stand with them without farther dallying."

Thus speaking, he left the room; and the Sub-Prior, looking after him
significantly, added, "Where the treasure is will the heart be also."

"Saint Mary preserve our wits!" said the Abbot, stunned with the
knight's abundance of words; "were man's brains ever so stuffed with
silk and broadcloth, cut-work, and I wot not what besides! And what
could move the Earl of Northumberland to assume for his bosom
counsellor, in.  matters of death and danger, such a feather-brained
coxcomb as this?"

"Had he been other than what he is, venerable father," said the
Sub-Prior, "he had been less fitted for the part of scape-goat, to which
his Right Honourable Cousin had probably destined him from the
commencement, in case of their plot failing. I know something of this
Piercie Shafton. The legitimacy of his mother's descent from the
Piercie family, the point on which he is most jealous, hath been
called in question. If hairbrained courage, and an outrageous spirit
of gallantry, can make good his pretensions to the high lineage he
claims, these qualities have never been denied him. For the rest, he
is one of the ruffling gallants of the time, like Howland Yorke,
Stukely,

[Footnote: "Yorke," says Camden, "was a Londoner, a man of
loose and dissolute behaviour, and desperately audacious--famous in
his time amongst the common bullies and swaggerers, as being the first
that, to the great admiration of many at his boldness, brought into
England the bold and dangerous way of fencing with the rapier in
duelling. Whereas, till that time, the English used to fight with long
swords and bucklers, striking with the edge, and thought it no part of
man either to push or strike beneath the girdle.

Having a command in the Low Countries, Yorke revolted to the
Spaniards, and died miserably, poisoned, as was supposed, by his new
allies. Three years afterwards, his bones were dug up and gibbeted by
the command of the States of Holland.

Thomas Stukely, another distinguished gallant of the time, was bred a
merchant, being the son of a rich clothier in the west. He wedded the
daughter and heiress of a wealthy alderman of London, named Curtis,
after whose death he squandered the riches he thus acquired in all
manner of extravagance. His wife, whose fortune supplied his waste,
represented to him that he ought to make more of her. Stukely replied,
"I will make as much of thee, believe me, as it is possible for any to
do;" and he kept his word in one sense, having stripped her even of
her wearing apparel, before he finally ran away from her.

Having fled to Italy, he contrived to impose upon the Pope, with a
plan of invading Ireland, for which he levied soldiers, and made some
preparations, but ended by engaging himself and his troops in the
service of King Sebastian of Portugal. He sailed with that prince on
his fatal voyage to Barbary, and fell with him at the battle of
Alcazar.

Stukely, as one of the first gallants of the time, has had the honour
to be chronicled in song, in Evans' Old Ballads, vol. iii, edition
1810. His fate is also introduced in a tragedy, by George Peel, as has
been supposed, called the Battle of Alcazar, from which play Dryden is
alleged to have taken the idea of Don Sebastian; if so, it is
surprising he omitted a character so congenial to King Charles the
Second's time as the witty, brave, and profligate Thomas Stukely.]

and others, who wear out their fortunes, and endanger their lives, in
idle braveries, in order that they may be esteemed the only choice
gallants of the time; and afterwards endeavour to repair their
estate, by engaging in the desperate plots and conspiracies which
wiser heads have devised. To use one of his own conceited similitudes,
such courageous fools resemble hawks, which the wiser conspirator
keeps hooded and blinded on his wrist until the quarry is on the wing,
and who are then flown at them."

"Saint Mary," said the Abbot, "he were an evil guest to introduce into
our quiet household. Our young monks make bustle enough, and more than
is beseeming God's servants, about their outward attire already--this
knight were enough to turn their brains, from the _Vestiarius_
down to the very scullion boy."

"A worse evil might follow," said the Sub-Prior: "in these bad days,
the patrimony of the church is bought and sold, forfeited and
distrained, as if it were the unhallowed soil appertaining to a
secular baron. Think what penalty awaits us, were we convicted of
harbouring a rebel to her whom they call the Queen of England! There
would neither be wanting Scottish parasites to beg the lands of the
foundation, nor an army from England to burn and harry the Halidome.
The men of Scotland were once Scotsmen, firm and united in the love of
their country, and throwing every other consideration aside when the
frontier was menaced--now they are--what shall I call them--the one
part French, the other part English, considering their dear native
country merely as a prize-fighting stage, upon which foreigners are
welcome to decide their quarrels."

"Benedictine!" replied the Abbot, "they are indeed slippery and evil
times."

"And therefore," said Father Eustace, "we must walk warily--we must
not, for example, bring this man--this Sir Piercie Shafton, to our
house of Saint Mary's."

"But how then shall we dispose of him?" replied the Abbot; "bethink
thee that he is a sufferer for holy Church's sake--that his patron,
the Earl of Northumberland, hath been our friend, and that, lying so
near us, he may work us weal or wo according as we deal with his
kinsman."

"And, accordingly," said the Sub-Prior, "for these reasons, as well as
for discharge of the great duty of Christian charity, I would protect
and relieve this man. Let him not go back to Julian Avenel--that
unconscientious baron would not stick to plunder the exiled
stranger--Let him remain here--the spot is secluded, and if the
accommodation be beneath his quality, discovery will become the less
likely. We will make such means for his convenience as we can devise."

"Will he be persuaded, thinkest thou?" said the Abbot; "I will leave
my own travelling bed for his repose, and send up a suitable
easy-chair."

"With such easements," said the Sub-Prior, "he must not complain; and
then, if threatened by any sudden danger, he can soon come down to the
sanctuary, where we will harbour him in secret until means can be
devised of dismissing him in safety."

"Were we not better," said the Abbot, "send him on to the court, and
get rid of him at once?"

"Ay, but at the expense of our friends--this butterfly may fold his
wings, and lie under cover in the cold air of Glendearg; but were he
at Holyrood, he would, did his life depend on it, expand his spangled
drapery in the eyes of the queen and court--Rather than fail of
distinction, he would sue for love to our gracious sovereign--the eyes
of all men would be upon him in the course of three short days, and
the international peace of the two ends of the island endangered for a
creature, who, like a silly moth, cannot abstain from fluttering round
a light."

"Thou hast prevailed with me, Father Eustace," said the Abbot, "and it
will go hard but I improve on thy plan--I will send up in secret, not
only household stuff, but wine and wassell-bread. There is a young
swankie here who shoots venison well. I will give him directions to
see that the knight lacks none."

"Whatever accommodation he can have, which infers not a risk of
discovery," said the Sub-Prior, "it is our duty to afford him."

"Nay," said the Abbot, "we will do more, and will instantly despatch a
servant express to the keeper of our revestiary to send us such things
as he may want, even this night. See it done, good father."

"I will," answered Father Eustace; "but I hear the gull clamorous for
some one to truss his points.[Footnote: The points were the strings of
cord or ribbon, (so called, because _pointed_ with metal like the
laces of women's stays,) which attached the doublet to the hose. They
were very numerous, and required assistance to tie them properly,
which was called _trussing_.] He will be fortunate if he lights
on any one here who can do him the office of groom of the chamber."

"I would he would appear," said the Abbot, "for here comes the
Refectioner with the collation--By my faith, the ride hath given me a
sharp appetite!"

       *       *       *       *       *



Chapter the Seventeenth.


  I'll seek for other aid--Spirits, they say,
  Flit round invisible, as thick as motes
  Dance in the sunbeam. If that spell
  Or necromancer's sigil can compel them,
  They shall hold council with me.
                JAMES DUFF.

The reader's attention must be recalled to Halbert Glendinning, who had
left the Tower of Glendearg immediately after his quarrel with its new
guest, Sir Piercie Shafton. As he walked with a rapid pace up the glen,
Old Martin followed him, beseeching him to be less hasty.

"Halbert," said the old man, "you will never live to have white hair, if
you take fire thus at every spark of provocation."

"And why should I wish it, old man," said Halbert, "if I am to be the
butt that every fool may aim a shaft of scorn against?--What avails
it, old man, that you yourself move, sleep, and wake, eat thy niggard
meal, and repose on thy hard pallet?--Why art thou so well pleased
that the morning should call thee up to daily toil, and the evening
again lay thee down a wearied-out wretch? Were it not better sleep and
wake no more, than to undergo this dull exchange of labour for
insensibility and of insensibility for labour?"

"God help me," answered Martin, "there may be truth in what thou
sayest--but walk slower, for my old limbs cannot keep pace with your
young legs--walk slower, and I will tell you why age, though unlovely,
is yet endurable."

"Speak on then," said Halbert, slackening his pace, "but remember we
must seek venison to refresh the fatigues of these holy men, who will
this morning have achieved a journey of ten miles; and if we reach not
the Brocksburn head we are scarce like to see an antler."

"Then know, my good Halbert," said Martin, "whom I love as my own son,
that I am satisfied to live till death calls me, because my Maker
wills it. Ay, and although I spend what men call a hard life, pinched
with cold in winter, and burnt with heat in summer, though I feed hard
and sleep hard, and am held mean and despised, yet I bethink me, that
were I of no use on the face of this fair creation, God would withdraw
me from it."

"Thou poor old man," said Halbert, "and can such a vain conceit as
this of thy fancied use, reconcile thee to a world where thou playest
so poor a part?"

"My part was nearly as poor," said Martin, "my person nearly as much
despised, the day that I saved my mistress and her child from
perishing in the wilderness."

"Right, Martin," answered Halbert; "there, indeed, thou didst what
might be a sufficient apology for a whole life of insignificance."

"And do you account it for nothing, Halbert, that I should have the
power of giving you a lesson of patience, and submission to the
destinies of Providence? Methinks there is use for the grey hairs on
the old scalp, were it but to instruct the green head by precept and
by example."

Halbert held down his face, and remained silent for a minute or two, and
then resumed his discourse: "Martin, seest thou aught changed in me of
late?"

"Surely," said Martin. "I have always known you hasty, wild, and
inconsiderate, rude, and prompt to speak at the volley and without
reflection; but now, methinks, your bearing, without losing its
natural fire, has something in it of force and dignity which it had
not before. It seems as if you had fallen asleep a carle, and awakened
a gentleman."

"Thou canst judge, then, of noble bearing?" said Halbert.

"Surely," answered Martin, "in some sort I can; for I have travelled
through court, and camp, and city, with my master, Walter Avenel,
although he could do nothing for me in the long run, but give me room
for two score of sheep on the hill--and surely even now, while I speak
with you, I feel sensible that my language is more refined than it is
my wont to use, and that--though I know not the reason--the rude
northern dialect, so familiar to my tongue, has given place to a more
town-bred speech."

"And this change in thyself and me, thou canst by no means account
for?" said young Glendinning.

"Change!" replied Martin, "by our Lady it is not so much a change
which I feel, as a recalling and renewing sentiments and expressions
which I had some thirty years since, ere Tibb and I set up our humble
household.  It is singular, that your society should have this sort of
influence over me, Halbert, and that I should never have experienced
it ere now."

"Thinkest thou," said Halbert, "thou seest in me aught that can raise
me from this base, low, despised state, into one where I may rank with
those proud men, who now despise my clownish poverty?"

Martin paused an instant, and then answered, "Doubtless you may,
Halbert; as broken a ship has come to land. Heard ye never of Hughie
Dun, who left this Halidome some thirty-five years gone by? A
deliverly fellow was Hughie--could read and write like a priest, and
could wield brand and buckler with the best of the riders. I mind
him--the like of him was never seen in the Halidome of Saint Mary's,
and so was seen of the preferment that God sent him."

"And what was that?" said Halbert, his eyes sparkling with eagerness.

"Nothing less," answered Martin, "than body-servant to the Archbishop
of Saint Andrews!"

Halbert's countenance fell.--"A servant--and to a priest? Was this all
that knowledge and activity could raise him to?"

Martin, in his turn, looked with wistful surprise in the face of his
young friend. "And to what could fortune lead him farther?" answered
he.  "The son of a kirk-feuar is not the stuff that lords and knights
are made of. Courage and school craft cannot change churl's blood into
gentle blood, I trow. I have heard, forby, that Hughie Dun left a good
five hundred punds of Scots money to his only daughter, and that she
married the Bailie of Pittenweem."

At this moment, and while Halbert was embarrassed with devising a
suitable answer, a deer bounded across their path. In an instant the
crossbow was at the youth's shoulder, the bolt whistled, and the deer,
after giving one bound upright, dropt dead on the green sward.

"There lies the venison our dame wanted," said Martin; "who would have
thought of an out-lying stag being so low down the glen at this
season?--And it is a hart of grease too, in full season, and three
inches of fat on the brisket. Now this is all your luck, Halbert, that
follows you, go where you like. Were you to put in for it, I would
warrant you were made one of the Abbot's yeoman-prickers, and ride
about in a purple doublet as bold as the best."

"Tush, man," answered Halbert, "I will serve the Queen or no one.
Take thou care to have down the venison to the Tower, since they
expect it.  I will on to the moss. I have two or three bird-bolts at
my girdle, and it may be I shall find wild-fowl."

He hastened his pace, and was soon out of sight. Martin paused for a
moment, and looked after him. "There goes the making of a right
gallant stripling, an ambition have not the spoiling of him--Serve the
Queen! said he. By my faith, and she hath worse servants, from all
that I e'er heard of him. And wherefore should he not keep a high
head? They that ettle to the top of the ladder will at least get up
some rounds. They that mint [Footnote: _Mint_--aim at.] at a gown
of gold, will always get a sleeve of it. But come, sir, (addressing
the stag,) you shall go to Glendearg on my two legs somewhat more
slowly than you were frisking it even now on your own four nimble
shanks. Nay, by my faith, if you be so heavy, I will content me with
the best of you, and that's the haunch and the nombles, and e'en heave
up the rest on the old oak-tree yonder, and come back for it with one
of the yauds." [Footnote: _Yauds_--horses; more particularly
horses of labour.]

While Martin returned to Glendearg with the venison, Halbert
prosecuted his walk, breathing more easily since he was free of his
companion. "The domestic of a proud and lazy priest--body-squire to
the Archbishop of Saint Andrews," he repeated to himself; "and this,
with the privilege of allying his blood with the Bailie of Pittenween,
is thought a preferment worth a brave man's struggling for;--nay more,
a preferment which, if allowed, should crown the hopes, past, present,
and to come, of the son of a Kirk-vassal! By Heaven, but that I find
in me a reluctance to practise their acts of nocturnal rapine, I would
rather take the jack and lance, and join with the Border-riders.
--Something I will do. Here, degraded and dishonoured, I will not live
the scorn of each whiffling stranger from the South, because,
forsooth, he wears tinkling spurs on a tawney boot. This thing--this
phantom, be it what it will, I will see it once more.  Since I spoke
with her, and touched her hand, thoughts and feelings have dawned on
me, of which my former life had not even dreamed; but shall I, who
feel my father's glen too narrow for my expanding spirit, brook to be
bearded in it by this vain gewgaw of a courtier, and in the sight too
of Mary Avenel? I will not stoop to it, by Heaven!"

As he spoke thus, he arrived in the sequestered glen of
Corri-nan-shian, as it verged upon the hour of noon. A few moments he
remained looking upon the fountain, and doubting in his own mind with
what countenance the White Lady might receive him. She had not indeed
expressly forbidden his again evoking her; but yet there was something
like such a prohibition implied in the farewell, which recommended him
to wait for another guide.

Halbert Glendinning did not long, however, allow himself to pause.
Hardihood was the natural characteristic of his mind; and under the
expansion and modification which his feelings had lately undergone, it
had been augmented rather than diminished. He drew his sword, undid
the buskin from his foot, bowed three times with deliberation towards
the fountain, and as often towards the tree, and repeated the same
rhyme as formerly,--

  "Thrice to the holy brake--
    Thrice to the well:--
  I bid thee awake,
    White Maid of Avenel!

  Noon gleams on the lake--
    Noon glows on the fell--
  Wake thee, O wake,
    White Maid of Avenel!"

His eye was on the holly bush as he spoke the last line; and it was
not without an involuntary shuddering that he saw the air betwixt his
eye and that object become more dim, and condense, as it were, into
the faint appearance of a form, through which, however, so thin and
transparent was the first appearance of the phantom, he could discern
the outline of the bush, as through a veil of fine crape. But,
gradually, it darkened into a more substantial appearance, and the
White Lady stood before him with displeasure on her brow. She spoke,
and her speech was still song, or rather measured chant; but, as if
now more familiar, it flowed occasionally in modulated blank-verse,
and at other times in the lyrical measure which she had used at their
former meeting.

  "This is the day when the fairy kind
    Sits weeping alone for their hopeless lot,
  And the wood-maiden sighs to the sighing wind,
    And the mer-maiden weeps in her crystal grot:
  For this is the day that a deed was wrought,
    In which we have neither part nor share.
  For the children of clay was salvation bought,
    But not for the forms of sea or air!
  And ever the mortal is most forlorn.
    Who meeteth our race on the Friday morn."

"Spirit," said Halbert Glendinning, boldly, "it is bootless to
threaten.  one who holds his life at no rate. Thine anger can but
slay; nor do I think thy power extendeth, or thy will stretcheth, so
far. The terrors which your race produce upon others, are vain against
me. My heart is hardened against fear, as by a sense of despair. If I
am, as thy words infer, of a race more peculiarly the care of Heaven
than thine, it is mine to call, it must be thine to answer. I am the
nobler being."

As he spoke, the figure looked upon him with a fierce and ireful
countenance, which, without losing the similitude of that which it
usually exhibited, had a wilder and more exaggerated cast of features.
The eyes seemed to contract and become more fiery, and slight
convulsions passed over the face, as if it was about to be transformed
into something hideous.  The whole appearance resembled those faces
which the imagination summons up when it is disturbed by laudanum, but
which do not remain under the visionary's command, and, beautiful in
their first appearance, become wild and grotesque ere we can arrest
them.

But when Halbert had concluded his bold speech, the White Lady stood
before him with the same pale, fixed, and melancholy aspect, which she
usually bore. He had expected the agitation which she exhibited would
conclude in some frightful metamorphosis. Folding her arms on her
bosom, the phantom replied,--

  "Daring youth! for thee it is well,
  Here calling me in haunted dell,
  That thy heart has not quail'd,
       Nor thy courage fail'd,
       And that thou couldst brook
  The angry look
       Of Her of Avenel.

  Did one limb shiver,
       Or an eyelid quiver,
  Thou wert lost for ever.
  Though I am form'd from the ether blue,
  And my blood is of the unfallen dew.
       And thou art framed of mud and dust,
  'Tis thine to speak, reply I must."

"I demand of thee, then," said the youth, "by what charm it is that I
am thus altered in mind and in wishes--that I think no longer of deer
or dog, of bow or bolt--that my soul spurns the bounds of this obscure
glen--that my blood boils at an insult from one by whose stirrup I
would some days since have run for a whole summer's morn, contented
and honoured by the notice of a single word? Why do I now seek to mate
me with princes, and knights, and nobles?--Am I the same, who but
yesterday, as it were, slumbered in contented obscurity, but who am
to-day awakened to glory and ambition?--Speak--tell me, if thou canst,
the meaning of this change?--Am I spell-bound?--or have I till now
been under the influence of a spell, that I feel as another being, yet
am conscious of remaining the same? Speak and tell me, is it to thy
influence that the change is owing?"

The White Lady replied,--

  "A mightier wizard far than I
    Wields o'er the universe his power;
  Him owns the eagle in the sky,
    The turtle in the bower.
  Chanceful in shape, yet mightiest still,
  He wields the heart of man at will,
  From ill to good, from good, to ill,
  In cot and castle-tower."

"Speak not thus darkly," said the youth, colouring so deeply, that face,
neck, and hands were in a sanguine glow; "make me sensible of thy
purpose."

The spirit answered,--

  "Ask thy heart,--whose secret cell
  Is fill'd with Marv Avenel!
  Ask thy pride,--why scornful look
  In Mary's view it will not brook?
  Ask it, why thou seek'st to rise
  Among the mighty and the wise?--
  Why thou spurn'st thy lowly lot?--
  Why thy pastimes are forgot?
  Why thou wouldst in bloody strife
  Mend thy luck or lose thy life?
  Ask thy heart, and it shall tell,
  Sighing from its secret cell,
  'Tis for Mary Avenel."

"Tell me, then," said Halbert, his cheek still deeply crimsoned, "thou
who hast said to me that which I dared not say to myself, by what means
shall I urge my passion--by what means make it known?"

The White Lady replied,--

  "Do not ask me;
  On doubts like these thou canst not task me.
  We only see the passing show
  Of human passions' ebb and flow;
  And view the pageant's idle glance
  As mortals eye the northern dance,
  When thousand streamers, flashing bright,
  Career it o'er the brow of night.
  And gazers mark their changeful gleams,
  But feel no influence from their beams."

"Yet thine own fate," replied Halbert, "unless men greatly err, is
linked with that of mortals?"

The phantom answered,

  "By ties mysterious link'd, our fated race
  Holds strange connexion with the sons of men.
  The star that rose upon the House of Avenel,
  When Norman Ulric first assumed the name,
  That star, when culminating in its orbit,
  Shot from its sphere a drop of diamond dew,
  And this bright font received it--and a Spirit
  Rose from the fountain, and her date of life
  Hath co-existence with the House of Avenel,
  And with the star that rules it."

"Speak yet more plainly," answered young Glendinning; "of this I can
understand nothing. Say, what hath forged thy wierded [Footnote:
_Wierded_--fated.] link of destiny with the House of Avenel?
Say, especially, what fate now overhangs that house?"

The White Lady replied,--

  "Look on my girdle--on this thread of gold--
  'Tis fine as web of lightest gossamer.
  And, but there is a spell on't, would not bind,
  Light as they are, the folds of my thin robe.
  But when 'twas donn'd, it was a massive chain,
  Such as might bind the champion of the Jews,

  Even when his looks were longest--it hath dwindled,
  Hath minish'd in its substance and its strength,
  As sunk the greatness of the House of Avenel.
  When this frail thread gives way. I to the elements
  Resign the principles of life they lent me.
  Ask me no more of this!--the stars forbid it."

"Then canst thou read the stars," answered the youth; "and mayest
tell me the fate of my passion, if thou canst not aid it?"

The White Lady again replied,--

  "Dim burns the once bright star of Avenel,
  Dim as the beacon when the morn is nigh,
  And the o'er-wearied warder leaves the light-house;
  There is an influence sorrowful and fearful.
  That dogs its downward course. Disastrous passion,
  Fierce hate and rivalry, are in the aspect
  That lowers upon its fortunes."

"And rivalry?" repeated Glendinning; "it is, then, as I feared!--But
shall that English silkworm presume to beard me in my father's house,
and in the presence of Mary Avenel?--Give me to meet him, spirit--give
me to do away the vain distinction of rank on which he refuses me the
combat.  Place us on equal terms, and gleam the stars with what aspect
they will, the sword of my father shall control their influences."

She answered as promptly as before,--

  "Complain not of me, child of clay,
  If to thy harm I yield the way.
  We, who soar thy sphere above,
  Know not aught of hate or love;
  As will or wisdom rules thy mood,
  My gifts to evil turn, or good."

"Give me to redeem my honour," said Halbert Glendinning--"give me to
retort on my proud rival the insults he has thrown on me, and let the
rest fare as it will. If I cannot revenge my wrong, I shall sleep
quiet, and know nought of my disgrace."

The phantom failed not to reply,--

  "When Piercie Shafton boasteth high,
  Let this token meet his eye.
  The sun is westering from the dell,
  Thy wish is granted--fare thee well!"

As the White Lady spoke or chanted these last words, she undid from
her locks a silver bodkin around which they were twisted, and gave it
to Halbert Glendinning; then shaking her dishevelled hair till it fell
like a veil around her, the outlines of her form gradually became as
diffuse as her flowing tresses, her countenance grew pale as the moon
in her first quarter, her features became indistinguishable, and she
melted into the air.

Habit inures us to wonders; but the youth did not find himself alone
by the fountain without experiencing, though in a much less degree,
the revulsion of spirits which he had felt upon the phantom's former
disappearance.  A doubt strongly pressed upon his mind, whether it
were safe to avail himself of the gifts of a spirit which did not even
pretend to belong to the class of angels, and might, for aught he
knew, have a much worse lineage than that which she was pleased to
avow. "I will speak of it," he said, "to Edward, who is clerkly
learned, and will tell me what I should do. And yet, no--Edward is
scrupulous and wary.--I will prove the effect of her gift on Sir
Piercie Shafton, if he again braves me, and by the issue, I will be
myself a sufficient judge whether there is danger in resorting to her
counsel. Home, then, home--and we shall soon learn whether that home
shall longer hold me; for not again will I brook insult, with my
father's sword by my side, and Mary for the spectator of my disgrace."




Chapter the Eighteenth.


  I give thee eighteenpence a-day,
    And my bow shall thou bear,
  And over all the north country,
    I make thee the chief rydere.
  And I thirteenpence a-day, quoth the queen,
    By God and by my faye,
  Come fetch thy payment when thou wilt,
    No man shall say thee nay.
              WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLEY.

The manners of the age did not permit the inhabitants of Glendearg to
partake of the collation which was placed in the spence of that
ancient tower, before the Lord Abbot and his attendants, and Sir
Piercie Shafton.  Dame Glendinning was excluded, both by inferiority
of rank and by sex, for (though it was a rule often neglected) the
Superior of Saint Mary's was debarred from taking his meals in female
society. To Mary Avenel the latter, and to Edward Glendinning the
former, incapacity attached; but it pleased his lordship to require
their presence in the apartment, and to say sundry kind words to them
upon the ready and hospitable reception which they had afforded him.

The smoking haunch now stood upon the table; a napkin, white as snow,
was, with due reverence, tucked under the chin of the Abbot by the
Refectioner; and nought was wanting to commence the repast, save the
presence of Sir Piercie Shafton, who at length appeared, glittering
like the sun, in a carnation-velvet doublet, slashed and puffed out
with cloth of silver, his hat of the newest block, surrounded by a
hatband of goldsmith's work, while around his neck he wore a collar of
gold, set with rubies and topazes so rich, that it vindicated his
anxiety for the safety of his baggage from being founded upon his love
of mere finery. This gorgeous collar or chain, resembling those worn
by the knights of the highest orders of chivalry, fell down on his
breast, and terminated in a medallion.

"We waited for Sir Piercie Shafton," said the Abbot, hastily assuming
his place in the great chair which the Kitchener advanced to the table
with ready hand.

"I pray your pardon, reverend father, and my good lord," replied that
pink of courtesy; "I did but wait to cast my riding slough, and to
transmew myself into some civil form meeter for this worshipful
company."

"I cannot but praise your gallantry, Sir Knight," said the Abbot, "and
your prudence, also, for choosing the fitting time to appear thus
adorned.  Certes, had that goodly chain been visible in some part of
your late progress, there was risk that the lawful owner might have
parted company therewith."

"This chain, said your reverence?" answered Sir Piercie; "surely it is
but a toy, a trifle, a slight thing which shows but poorly with this
doublet--marry, when I wear that of the murrey-coloured double-piled
Genoa velvet, puffed out with ciprus, the gems, being relieved and set
off by the darker and more grave ground of the stuff, show like stars
giving a lustre through dark clouds."

"I nothing doubt it," said the Abbot, "but I pray you to sit down at the
board."

But Sir Piercie had now got into his element, and was not easily
interrupted--"I own," he continued, "that slight as the toy is, it
might perchance have had some captivation for Julian--Santa Maria!"
said he, interrupting himself; "what was I about to say, and my fair
and beauteous Protection, or shall I rather term her my Discretion,
here in presence!--Indiscreet hath it been in your Affability, O most
lovely Discretion, to suffer a stray word to have broke out of the
penfold of his mouth, that might overleap the fence of civility, and
trespass on the manor of decorum."

"Marry!" said the Abbot, somewhat impatiently, "the greatest
discretion that I can see in the matter is, to eat our victuals being
hot--Father Eustace, say the Benedicite, and cut up the haunch."

The Sub-Prior readily obeyed the first part of the Abbot's injunction,
but paused upon the second--"It is Friday, most reverend," he said in
Latin, desirous that the hint should escape, if possible, the ears of
the stranger.

"We are travellers," said the Abbot, in reply, "and _viatoribus
licitum est_--You know the canon--a traveller must eat what food
his hard fate sets before him. I grant you all a dispensation to eat
flesh this day, conditionally that you, brethren, say the Confiteor at
curfew time, that the knight give alms to his ability, and that all
and each of you fast from flesh on such day within the next month that
shall seem most convenient;--wherefore fall to and eat your food with
cheerful countenances, and you, Father Refectioner, _da mixtus_."

While the Abbot was thus stating the conditions on which his
indulgence was granted, he had already half finished a slice of the
noble haunch, and now washed it down with a flagon of Rhenish,
modestly tempered with water.

"Well is it said," he observed, as he required from the Refectioner
another slice, "that virtue is its own reward; for though this is but
humble fare, and hastily prepared, and eaten in a poor chamber, I do
not remember me of having had such an appetite since I was a simple
brother in the Abbey of Dundrennan, and was wont to labour in the
garden from morning until nones, when our Abbot struck the
_Cymbalum_. Then would I enter keen with hunger, parched with
thirst, (_da mihi vinum quaeso, et merum sit_,) and partake with
appetite of whatever was set before us, according to our rule; feast
or fast day, _caritas_ or _penitentia_, was the same to me.
I had no stomach complaints then, which now crave both the aid of wine
and choice cookery, to render my food acceptable to my palate, and
easy of digestion."

"It may be, holy father," said the Sub-Prior, "an occasional ride to
the extremity of Saint Mary's patrimony, may have the same happy
effect on your health as the air of the garden at Dundrennan."

"Perchance, with our patroness's blessing, such progresses may
advantage us," said the Abbot; "having an especial eye that our
venison is carefully killed by some woodsman that is master of his
craft."

"If the Lord Abbot will permit me," said the Kitchener, "I think the
best way to assure his lordship on that important point, would be to
retain as a yeoman-pricker, or deputy-ranger, the eldest son of this
good woman, Dame Glendinning, who is here to wait upon us. I should
know by mine office what belongs to killing of game, and I can safely
pronounce, that never saw I, or any other _coquinarius_, a bolt
so justly shot. It has cloven the very heart of the buck."

"What speak you to us of one good shot, father?" said Sir Piercie; "I
would advise you that such no more maketh a shooter, than doth one
swallow make a summer--I have seen this springald of whom you speak,
and if his hand can send forth his shafts as boldly as his tongue doth
utter presumptuous speeches, I will own him as good an archer as Robin
Hood."

"Marry," said the Abbot, "and it is fitting we know the truth of this
matter from the dame herself; for ill advised were we to give way to
any rashness in this matter, whereby the bounties which Heaven and our
patroness provide might be unskilfully mangled, and rendered unfit for
worthy men's use.--Stand forth, therefore, dame Glendinning, and tell
to us, as thy liege lord and spiritual Superior, using plainness and
truth, without either fear or favour, as being a matter wherein we are
deeply interested, Doth this son of thine use his bow as well as the
Father Kitchener avers to us?"

"So please your noble fatherhood," answered Dame Glendinning with a
deep curtsy, "I should know somewhat of archery to my cost, seeing my
husband--God assoilzie him!--was slain in the field of Pinkie with an
arrow-shot, while he was fighting under the Kirk's banner, as became a
liege vassal of the Halidome. He was a valiant man, please your
reverence, and an honest; and saving that he loved a bit of venison,
and shifted for his living at a time as Border-men will sometimes do,
I wot not of sin that he did. And yet, though I have paid for mass
after mass to the matter of a forty shilling, besides a quarter of
wheat and four firlocks of rye, I can have no assurance yet that he
has been delivered from purgatory."

"Dame," said the Lord Abbot, "this shall be looked into heedfully; and
since thy husband fell, as thou sayest, in the Kirk's quarrel, and
under her banner, rely upon it that we will have him out of purgatory
forthwith--that is, always provided he be there.--But it is not of
thy husband whom we now devise to speak, but of thy son; not of a shot
Scotsman, but of a shot deer--Wherefore, I say, answer me to the
point, is thy son a practised archer, ay or no?"

"Alack! my reverend lord," replied the widow, "and my croft would be
better tilled, if I could answer your reverence that he is
not.--Practised archer!--marry, holy sir, I would he would practise
something else--cross-bow and long-bow, hand-gun and hack-but,
falconet and saker, he can shoot with them all. And if it would please
this right honourable gentleman, our guest, to hold out his hat at the
distance of a hundred yards, our Halbert shall send shaft, bolt, or
bullet through it, (so that right honourable gentleman swerve not, but
hold out steady,) and I will forfeit a quarter of barley if he touch
but a knot of his ribands. I have seen our old Martin do as much, and
so has our right reverend the Sub-Prior, if he be pleased to remember
it."

"I am not like to forget it, dame," said Father Eustace; "for I knew
not which most to admire, the composure of the young marksman, or the
steadiness of the old mark. Yet I presume not to advise Sir Piercie
Shafton to subject his valuable beaver, and yet more valuable person,
to such a risk, unless it should be his own special pleasure."

"Be assured it is not," said Sir Piercie Shafton, something hastily;
"be well assured, holy father, that it is not. I dispute not the lad's
qualities, for which your reverence vouches. But bows are but wood,
strings are but flax, or the silk-worm excrement at best; archers are
but men, fingers may slip, eyes may dazzle, the blindest may hit the
butt, the best marker may shoot a bow's length beside. Therefore will
we try no perilous experiments."

"Be that as you will, Sir Piercie," said the Abbot; "meantime we will
name this youth bow-bearer in the forest granted to us by good King
David, that the chase might recreate our wearied spirits, the flesh of
the dear improve our poor commons, and the hides cover the books of
our library; thus tending at once to the sustenance of body and soul."

"Kneel down, woman, kneel down," said the Refectioner and the
Kitchener, with one voice, to Dame Glendinning, "and kiss his lordship's
hand, for the grace which he has granted to thy son."

They then, as if they had been chanting the service and the responses,
set off in a sort of duetto, enumerating the advantages of the
situation.

"A green gown and a pair of leathern galligaskins every Pentecost," said
the Kitchener.

"Four marks by the year at Candlemas," answered the Refectioner.

"A hogshead of ale at Martlemas, of the double strike, and single ale at
pleasure, as he shall agree with the Cellarer--"

"Who is a reasonable man," said the Abbot, "and will encourage an
active servant of the convent."

"A mess of broth and a dole of mutton or beef, at the Kitchener's, on
each high holiday," resumed the Kitchener.

"The gang of two cows and a palfrey on our Lady's meadow." answered
his brother officer.

"An ox-hide to make buskins of yearly, because of the brambles," echoed
the Kitchener.

"And various other perquisites, _quae nunc praescribere longum_,"
said the Abbot, summing, with his own lordly voice, the advantages
attached to the office of conventional bow-bearer.

Dame Glendinning was all this while on her knees, her head
mechanically turning from the one church officer to the other, which,
as they stood one on each side of her, had much the appearance of a
figure moved by clock-work, and so soon as they were silent, most
devotedly did she kiss the munificent hand of the Abbot. Conscious,
however, of Halbert's intractability in some points, she could not
help qualifying her grateful and reiterated thanks for the Abbot's
bountiful proffer, with a hope that Halbert would see his wisdom, and
accept of it.

"How," said the Abbot, bending his brows, "accept of it?--Woman, is
thy son in his right wits?"

Elspeth, stunned by the tone in which this question was asked, was
altogether unable to reply to it. Indeed, any answer she might have
made could hardly have been heard, as it pleased the two
office-bearers of the Abbot's table again to recommence their
alternate dialogue.

"Refuse!" said the Kitchener.

"Refuse!" answered the Refectioner, echoing the other's word in a tone
of still louder astonishment.

"Refuse four marks by the year!" said the one.

"Ale and beer--broth and mutton--cow's grass and palfrey's!" shouted
the Kitchener.

"Gown and galligaskins!" responded the Refectioner.

"A moment's patience, my brethren," answered the Sub-Prior, "and let
us not be thus astonished before cause is afforded of our amazement.
This good dame best knoweth the temper and spirit of her son--this
much I can say, that it lieth not towards letters or learning, of
which I have in vain endeavoured to instil into him some tincture.
Nevertheless, he is a youth of no common spirit, but much like those
(in my weak judgment) whom God raises up among a people when he
meaneth that their deliverance shall be wrought out with strength of
hand and valour of heart. Such men we have seen marked with a
waywardness, and even an obstinacy of character, which hath appeared
intractability and stupidity to those among whom they walked and were
conversant, until the very opportunity hath arrived in, which it was
the will of Providence that they should be the fitting instrument of
great things."

"Now, in good time hast thou spoken, Father Eustace," said the Abbot;
"and we will see this swankie before we decide upon the means of
employing him.--How say you, Sir Piercie Shafton, is it not the court
fashion to suit the man to the office, and not the office to the man?"

"So please your reverence and lordship," answered the Northumbrian
knight, "I do partly, that is, in some sort, subscribe to what your
wisdom hath delivered--Nevertheless, under reverence of the Sub-Prior,
we do not look for gallant leaders and national deliverers in the
hovels of the mean common people. Credit me, that if there be some
flashes of martial spirit about this young person, which I am not
called upon to dispute, (though I have seldom seen that presumption
and arrogance were made good upon the upshot by deed and action,) yet
still these will prove insufficient to distinguish him, save in his
own limited and lowly sphere--even as the glowworm, which makes a
goodly show among the grass of the field, would be of little avail if
deposited in a beacon-grate."

"Now, in good time," said the Sub-Prior, "and here comes the young
huntsman to speak for himself;" for, being placed opposite to the
window, he could observe Halbert as he ascended the little mound on
which the tower was situated.

"Summon him to our presence," said the Lord Abbot; and with an
obedient start the two attendant monks went off with emulous
alertness. Dame Glendinning sprung away at the same moment, partly to
gain an instant to recommend obedience to her son, partly to prevail
with him to change his apparel before coming in presence of the Abbot.
But the Kitchener and Refectioner, both speaking at once, had already
seized each an arm, and were leading Halbert in triumph into the
apartment, so that she could only ejaculate, "His will be done; but an
he had but had on him his Sunday's hose!"

Limited and humble as this desire was, the fates did not grant it, for
Halbert Glendinning was hurried into the presence of the Lord Abbot
and his party, without a word of explanation, and without a moment's
time being allowed to assume his holiday hose, which, in the language
of the time, implied both breeches and stockings.

Yet, though thus suddenly presented amid the centre of all eyes, there
was something in Halbert's appearance which commanded a certain degree
of respect from the company into which he was so unceremoniously
intruded, and the greater part of whom were disposed to consider him
with hauteur if not with absolute contempt. But his appearance and
reception we must devote to another chapter.

       *       *       *       *       *       *       *



Chapter the Nineteenth.


  Now choose thee, gallant, betwixt wealth and honour;
  There lies the pelf, in sum to bear thee through
  The dance of youth, and the turmoil of manhood,
  Yet leave enough for age's chimney-corner;
  But an thou grasp to it, farewell ambition,
  Farewell each hope of bettering thy condition,
  And raising thy low rank above the churls
  That till the earth for bread.
                                 OLD PLAY.

It is necessary to dwell for some brief space on the appearance and
demeanour of young Glendinning, ere we proceed to describe his interview
with the Abbot of St. Mary's, at this momentous crisis of his life.

Halbert was now about nineteen years old, tall and active rather than
strong, yet of that hardy conformation of limb and sinew, which
promises great strength when the growth shall be complete, and the
system confirmed.  He was perfectly well made, and, like most men who
have that advantage, possessed a grace and natural ease of manner and
carriage, which prevented his height from being the distinguished part
of his external appearance. It was not until you had compared his
stature with that of those amongst or near to whom he stood, that you
became sensible that the young Glendinning was upwards of six feet
high. In the combination of unusual height with perfect symmetry,
ease, and grace of carriage, the young heir of Glendearg,
notwithstanding his rustic birth and education, had greatly the
advantage even of Sir Piercie Shafton himself, whose stature was
lower, and his limbs, though there was no particular point to object
to, were on the whole less exactly proportioned. On the other hand,
Sir Piercie's very handsome countenance afforded him as decided an
advantage over the Scotsman, as regularity of features and brilliance
of complexion could give over traits which were rather strongly marked
than beautiful, and upon whose complexion the "skyey influences," to
which he was constantly exposed, had blended the red and white into
the purely nut-brown hue, which coloured alike cheeks, neck, and
forehead, and blushed only in a darker glow upon the former.--
Halbert's eyes supplied a marked and distinguished part of his
physiognomy. They were large and of a hazel colour, and sparkled in
moments of animation with such uncommon brilliancy, that it seemed as
if they actually emitted light. Nature had closely curled the locks of
dark-brown hair, which relieved and set off the features, such as we
have described them, displaying a bold and animated disposition, much
more than might have been expected from his situation, or from his
previous manners, which hitherto had seemed bashful, homely, and
awkward.