Halbert's dress was certainly not of that description which sets off
to the best advantage a presence of itself prepossessing. His jerkin
and hose were of coarse rustic cloth, and his cap of the same. A belt
round his waist served at once to sustain the broad-sword which we
have already mentioned, and to hold five or six arrows and bird-bolts,
which were stuck into it on the right side, along with a large knife
hilted with buck-horn, or, as it was then called, a dudgeon-dagger. To
complete his dress, we must notice his loose buskins of deer's hide,
formed so as to draw up on the leg as high as the knee, or at pleasure
to be thrust down lower than the calves. These were generally used at
the period by such as either had their principal occupation, or their
chief pleasure, in silvan sports, as they served to protect the legs
against the rough and tangled thickets into which the pursuit of game
frequently led them.--And these trifling particulars complete his
external appearance.

It is not easy to do justice to the manner in which young
Glendinning's soul spoke through his eyes when ushered so suddenly
into the company of those whom his earliest education had taught him
to treat with awe and reverence. The degree of embarrassment, which
his demeanor evinced, had nothing in it either meanly servile, or
utterly disconcerted. It was no more than became a generous and
ingenuous youth of a bold spirit, but totally inexperienced, who
should for the first time be called upon to think and act for himself
in such society and under such disadvantageous circumstances.  There
was not in his carriage a grain either of forwardness or of timidity,
which a friend could have wished away.

He kneeled and kissed the Abbot's hand, then rose, and retiring two
paces, bowed respectfully to the circle around, smiling gently as he
received an encouraging nod from the Sub-Prior, to whom alone he was
personally known, and blushing as he encountered the anxious look of
Mary Avenel, who beheld with painful interest the sort of ordeal to
which her foster-brother was about to be subjected. Recovering from
the transient flurry of spirits into which the encounter of her glance
had thrown him, he stood composedly awaiting till the Abbot should
express his pleasure.

The ingenuous expression of countenance, noble form, and graceful
attitude of the young man, failed not to prepossess in his favor the
churchmen in whose presence he stood. The Abbot looked round, and
exchanged a gracious and approving glance with his counsellor Father
Eustace, although probably the appointment of a ranger, or bow-bearer,
was one in which he might have been disposed to proceed without the
Sub-Prior's advice, were it but to show his own free agency. But the
good mien of the young man now in nomination was such, that he rather
hastened to exchange congratulation on meeting with so proper a
subject of promotion, than to indulge any other feeling. Father
Eustace enjoyed the pleasure which a well-constituted mind derives
from seeing a benefit light on a deserving object; for as he had not
seen Halbert since circumstances had made so material a change in his
manner and feelings, he scarce doubted that the proffered
appointment would, notwithstanding his mother's uncertainty, suit the
disposition of a youth who had appeared devoted to woodland sports,
and a foe alike to sedentary or settled occupation of any kind. The
Refectioner and Kitchener were so well pleased with Halbert's
prepossessing appearance, that they seemed to think that the salary,
emoluments, and perquisites, the dole, the grazing, the gown, and the
galligaskins, could scarce be better bestowed than on the active and
graceful figure before them.

Sir Piercie Shafton, whether from being more deeply engaged in his own
cogitations, or that the subject was unworthy of his notice, did not
seem to partake of the general feeling of approbation excited by the
young man's presence. He sate with his eyes half shut, and his arms
folded, appearing to be wrapped in contemplations of a nature deeper
than those arising out of the scene before him. But, notwithstanding
his seeming abstraction and absence of mind, there was a flutter of
vanity in Sir Piercie's very handsome countenance, an occasional
change of posture from one striking attitude (or what he conceived to
be such) to another, and an occasional stolen glance at the female
part of the company, to spy how far he succeeded in riveting their
attention, which gave a marked advantage, in comparison, to the less
regular and more harsh features of Halbert Glendinning, with their
composed, manly, and deliberate expression of mental fortitude.

Of the females belonging to the family of Glendearg, the Miller's
daughter alone had her mind sufficiently at leisure to admire, from
time to time, the graceful attitudes of Sir Piercie Shafton; for both
Mary Avenel and Dame Glendinning were waiting in anxiety and
apprehension the answer which Halbert was to return to the Abbot's
proposal, and fearfully anticipating the consequences of his probable
refusal. The conduct of his brother Edward, for a lad constitutionally
shy, respectful, and even timid, was at once affectionate and noble.
This younger son of Dame Elspeth had stood unnoticed in a corner,
after the Abbot, at the request of the Sub-Prior, had honoured him
with some passing notice, and asked him a few common-place questions
about his progress in Donatus, and in the _Promptuarium
Parvulorum_, without waiting for the answers. From his corner he
now glided round to his brother's side, and keeping a little behind
him, slid his right hand into the huntsman's left, and by a gentle
pressure, which Halbert instantly and ardently returned, expressed at
once his interest in his situation, and his resolution to share his
fate.

The group was thus arranged, when, after the pause of two or three
minutes, which he employed in slowly sipping his cup of wine, in order
that he might enter on his proposal with due and deliberate dignity,
the Abbot at length expressed himself thus:--

"My son--we your lawful Superior, and the Abbot, under God's favour,
of the community of Saint Mary's, have heard of your manifold good
gifts--a-hem--especially touching wood-craft--and the huntsman-like
fashion in which you strike your game, truly and as a yeoman should,
not abusing Heaven's good benefits by spoiling the flesh, as is too
often seen in careless rangers--a-hem." He made here a pause, but
observing that Glendinning only replied to his compliment by a bow, he
proceeded,--"My son, we commend your modesty; nevertheless, we will
that thou shouldst speak freely to us touching that which we have
premeditated for thine advancement, meaning to confer on thee the
office of bow-bearer and ranger, as well over the chases and forests
wherein our house hath privilege by the gifts of pious kings and
nobles, whose souls now enjoy the fruits of their bounties to the
Church as to those which belong to us in exclusive right of property
and perpetuity. Thy knee, my son--that we may, with our own hand, and
without loss of time, induct thee into office."

"Kneel down," said the Kitchener on the one side; and "Kneel down,"
said the Refectioner on the other.

But Halbert Glendinning remained standing.

"Were it to show gratitude and good-will for your reverend lordship's
noble offer, I could not," he said, "kneel low enough, or remain long
enough kneeling. But I may not kneel to take investure of your noble
gift, my Lord Abbot, being a man determined to seek my fortune
otherwise."

"How is that, sir?" said the Abbot, knitting his brows; "do I hear you
speak aright? and do you, a born vassal of the Halidome, at the moment
when I am destining to you such a noble expression of my good-will,
propose exchanging my service for that of any other?"

"My lord," said Halbert Glendinning, "it grieves me to think you hold
me capable of undervaluing your gracious offer, or of exchanging your
service for another. But your noble proffer doth but hasten the
execution of a determination which I have long since formed."

"Ay, my son," said the Abbot, "is it indeed so?--right early have you
learned to form resolutions without consulting those on whom you
naturally depend. But what may it be, this sagacious resolution, if I
may so far pray you?"

"To yield up to my brother and mother," answered Halbert, "mine
interest in the fief of Glendearg, lately possessed by my father,
Simon Glendinning: and having prayed your lordship to be the same kind
and generous master to them, that your predecessors, the venerable
Abbots of Saint Mary's, have been to my fathers in times past; for
myself, I am determined to seek my fortune where I may best find it."

Dame Glendinning here ventured, emboldened by maternal anxiety, to
break silence with an exclamation of "O my son!" Edward clinging to
his brother's side, half spoke, half whispered, a similar ejaculation,
of "Brother! brother!"

The Sub-Prior took up the matter in a tone of grave reprehension,
which, as he conceived, the interest he had always taken in the family
at Glendearg required at his hand.

"Wilful young man," he said, "what folly can urge thee to push back
the hand that is stretched out to aid thee? What visionary aim hast
thou before thee, that can compensate for the decent and sufficient
independence which thou art now rejecting with scorn?"

"Four marks by the year, duly and truly," said the Kitchener.

"Cow's-grass, doublet, and galligaskins," responded the Refectioner.

"Peace, my brethren," said the Sub-Prior; "and may it please your
lordship, venerable father, upon my petition, to allow this headstrong
youth a day for consideration, and it shall be my part so to
indoctrinate him, as to convince him what is due on this occasion to
your lordship, and to his family, and to himself."

"Your kindness, reverend father," said the youth, "craves my dearest
thanks--it is the continuance of a long train of benevolence towards
me, for which I give you my gratitude, for I have nothing else to
offer. It is my mishap, not your fault, that your intentions have been
frustrated. But my present resolution is fixed and unalterable. I
cannot accept the generous offer of the Lord Abbot; my fate calls me
elsewhere, to scenes where I shall end it or mend it."

"By our Lady," said the Abbot, "I think the youth be mad indeed--or
that you, Sir Piercie, judged of him most truly, when you prophesied
that he would prove unfit for the promotion we designed him--it may be
you knew something of this wayward humour before?"

"By the mass, not I," answered Sir Piercie Shafton, with his usual
indifference. "I but judged of him by his birth and breeding; for seldom
doth a good hawk come out of a kite's egg."

"Thou art thyself a kite, and kestrel to boot," replied Halbert
Glendinning, without a moment's hesitation.

"This in our presence, and to a man of worship?" said the Abbot, the
blood rushing to his face.

"Yes, my lord," answered the youth; "even in your presence I return to
this gay man's face, the causeless dishonour--which he has flung on my
name. My brave father, who fell in the cause of his country, demands
that justice at the hands of his son!"

"Unmannered boy!" said the Abbot.

"Nay, my good lord," said the knight, "praying pardon for the coarse
interruption, let me entreat you not to be wroth with this
rustical--Credit me, the north wind shall as soon puff one of your
rocks from its basis, as aught which I hold so slight and
inconsiderate as the churlish speech of an untaught churl, shall move
the spleen of Piercie Shafton."

"Proud as you are, Sir Knight," said Halbert, "in your imagined
superiority, be not too confident that you cannot be moved."

"Faith, by nothing that thou canst urge," said Sir Piercie.

"Knowest thou, then, this token?" said young Glendinning, offering to
him the silver bodkin he had received from the White Lady.

Never was such an instant change, from the most contemptuous serenity,
to the most furious state of passion, as that which Sir Piercie
Shafton exhibited. It was the difference between a cannon lying quiet
in its embrasure, and the same gun when touched by the linstock. He
started up, every limb quivering with rage, and his features so
inflamed and agitated by passion, that he more resembled a demoniac,
than a man under the regulation of reason. He clenched both his fists,
and thrusting them forward, offered them furiously at the face of
Glendinning, who was even himself startled at the frantic state of
excitation which his action had occasioned.  The next moment he
withdrew them, struck his open palm against his own forehead, and
rushed out of the room in a state of indescribable agitation.  The
whole matter had been so sudden, that no person present had time to
interfere.

When Sir Piercie Shafton had left the apartment, there was a moment's
pause of astonishment; and then a general demand that Halbert
Glendinning should instantly explain by what means he had produced
such a violent change in the deportment of the English cavalier.

"I did nought to him," answered Halbert Glendinning, "but what you
all saw--am I to answer for his fantastic freaks of humour?"

"Boy," said the Abbot, in his most authoritative manner, "these
subterfuges shall not avail thee. This is not a man to be driven from
his temperament without some sufficient cause. That cause was given by
thee, and must have been known to thee. I command thee, as thou wilt
save thyself from worse measure, to explain to me by what means thou
hast moved our friend thus--We choose not that our vassals shall drive
our guests mad in our very presence, and we remain ignorant of the
means whereby that purpose is effected."

"So may it please your reverence, I did but show him this token," said
Halbert Glendinning, delivering it at the same time to the Abbot, who
looked at it with much attention, and then, shaking his head, gravely
delivered it to the Sub-Prior, without speaking a word.

Father Eustace looked at the mysterious token with some attention; and
then addressing Halbert in a stern and severe voice, said, "Young man,
if thou wouldst not have us suspect thee of some strange
double-dealing in this matter, let us instantly know whence thou hadst
this token, and how it possesses an influence on Sir Piercie
Shafton?"--It would have been extremely difficult for Halbert, thus
hard pressed, to have either evaded or answered so puzzling a
question. To have avowed the truth might, in those times, have
occasioned his being burnt at a stake, although, in ours, his
confession would have only gained for him the credit of a liar beyond
all rational credibility. He was fortunately relieved by the return of
Sir Piercie Shafton himself, whose ear caught, as he entered, the
sound of the Sub-Prior's question.

Without waiting until Halbert Glendinning replied, he came forward,
whispering to him as he passed, "Be secret--thou shalt have the
satisfaction thou hast dared to seek for."

When he returned to his place, there were still marks of discomposure
on his brow; but, becoming apparently collected and calm, he looked
around him, and apologized for the indecorum of which he had been
guilty, which he ascribed to sudden and severe indisposition. All were
silent, and looked on each other with some surprise.

The Lord Abbot gave orders for all to retire from the apartment, save
himself, Sir Piercie Shafton, and the Sub-Prior. "And have an eye," he
added, "on that bold youth, that he escape not; for if he hath
practised by charm, or otherwise, on the health of our worshipful
guest, I swear by the alb and mitre which I wear, that his punishment
shall be most exemplary."

"My lord and venerable father," said Halbert, bowing respectfully,
"fear not but that I will abide my doom. I think you will best learn
from the worshipful knight himself, what is the cause of his
distemperature, and how slight my share in it has been."

"Be assured," said the knight, without looking up, however, while he
spoke, "I will satisfy the Lord Abbot."

With these words the company retired, and with them young Glendinning.
When the Abbot, the Sub-Prior, and the English knight were left alone,
Father Eustace, contrary to his custom, could not help speaking the
first. "Expound unto us, noble sir," he said, "by what mysterious
means the production of this simple toy could so far move your spirit,
and overcome your patience, after you had shown yourself proof to all
the provocation offered by this self-sufficient and singular youth?"

The knight took the silver bodkin from the good father's hand, looked
at it with great composure, and, having examined it all over, returned
it to the Sub-Prior, saying at the same time, "In truth, venerable
father, I cannot but marvel, that the wisdom implied alike in your
silver hairs, and in your eminent rank, should, like a babbling hound,
(excuse the similitude,) open thus loudly on a false scent. I were,
indeed, more slight to be moved than the leaves of the aspen-tree,
which wag at the least breath of heaven, could I be touched by such a
trifle as this, which in no way concerns me more than if the same
quantity of silver were stricken into so many groats. Truth is, that
from my youth upward, I have been subjected to such a malady as you
saw me visited with even now--a cruel and searching pain, which goeth
through nerve and bone, even as a good brand in the hands of a brave
soldier sheers through limb and sinew--but it passes away speedily, as
you yourselves may judge."

"Still," said the Sub-Prior, "this will not account for the youth
offering to you this piece of silver, as a token by which you were to
understand something, and, as we must needs conjecture, something
disagreeable."

"Your reverence is to conjecture what you will," said Sir Piercie;
"but I cannot pretend to lay your judgment on the right scent when I
see it at fault. I hope I am not liable to be called upon to account
for the foolish actions of a malapert boy?"

"Assuredly," said the Sub-Prior, "we shall prosecute no inquiry which
is disagreeable to our guest. Nevertheless," said he, looking to his
Superior, "this chance may, in some sort, alter the plan your lordship
had formed for your worshipful guest's residence for a brief term in
this tower, as a place alike of secrecy and of security; both of
which, in the terms which we now stand on with England, are
circumstances to be desired."

"In truth," said the Abbot, "and the doubt is well thought on, were it
as well removed; for I scarce know in the Halidome so fitting a place
of refuge, yet see I not how to recommend it to our worshipful guest,
considering the unrestrained petulance of this headstrong youth."

"Tush! reverend sirs--what would you make of me?" said Sir Piercie
Shafton. "I protest, by mine honour, I would abide in this house were
I to choose. What! I take no exceptions at the youth for showing a
flash of spirit, though the spark may light on mine own head. I honour
the lad for it. I protest I will abide here, and he shall aid me in
striking down a deer. I must needs be friends with him, and he be such
a shot: and we will speedily send down to my lord Abbot a buck of the
first head, killed so artificially as shall satisfy even the reverend
Kitchener."

This was said with such apparent ease and good-humour, that the Abbot
made no farther observation on what had passed, but proceeded to
acquaint his guest with the details of furniture, hangings,
provisions, and so forth, which he proposed to send up to the Tower of
Glendearg for his accommodation. This discourse, seasoned with a cup
or two of wine, served to prolong the time until the reverend Abbot
ordered his cavalcade to prepare for their return to the Monastery.

"As we have," he said, "in the course of this our toilsome journey,
lost our meridian, [Footnote: The hour of repose at noon, which, in
the middle ages, was employed in slumber, and which the monastic rules
of nocturnal vigils rendered necessary.] indulgence shall be given to
those of our attendants who shall, from very weariness, be unable to
attend the duty at prime, [Footnote: _Prime_ was the midnight
service of the monks.] and this by way of misericord or
_indulgentia._" [Footnote: _Misericord,_ according to the
learned work of Fosbrooke on British Monachism, meant not only an
indulgence, or exoneration from particular duties, but also a
particular apartment in a convent, where the monks assembled to enjoy
such indulgences or allowances as were granted beyond the rule.]

Having benevolently intimated a boon to his faithful followers, which
he probably judged would be far from unacceptable, the good Abbot,
seeing all ready for his journey, bestowed his blessing on the
assembled household--gave his hand to be kissed by Dame
Glendinning--himself kissed the cheek of Mary Avenel, and even of the
Miller's maiden, when they approached to render him the same
homage--commanded Halbert to rule his temper, and to be aiding and
obedient in all things to the English Knight--admonished Edward to be
_discipulus impiger atque strenuus_--then took a courteous
farewell of Sir Piercie Shafton, advising him to lie close, for fear
of the English borderers, who might be employed to kidnap him; and
having discharged these various offices of courtesy, moved forth to
the courtyard, followed by the whole establishment. Here, with a heavy
sigh, approaching to a groan, the venerable father heaved himself upon
his palfrey, whose dark purple housings swept the ground; and, greatly
comforted that the discretion of the animal's pace would be no longer
disturbed by the gambadoes of Sir Piercie and his prancing war-horse,
he set forth at a sober and steady trot upon his return to the
Monastery.

When the Sub-Prior had mounted to accompany his principal, his eye
sought out Halbert, who, partly hidden by a projection of the outward
wall of the court, stood apart from, and gazing upon the departing
cavalcade, and the group which assembled around them. Unsatisfied with
the explanation he had received concerning the mysterious transaction
of the silver bodkin, yet interesting himself in the youth, of whose
character he had formed a favourable idea, the worthy monk resolved to
take an early opportunity of investigating that matter. In the
meanwhile, he looked upon Halbert with a serious and warning aspect,
and held up his finger to him as he signed farewell. He then joined
the rest of the churchmen, and followed his Superior down the valley.




Chapter the Twentieth.


  I hope you'll give me cause to think you noble.
  And do me right with your sword, sir, as becomes
  One gentleman of honour to another;

  All this is fair, sir--let us make no days on't,
  I'll lead your way.

LOVE'S PILGRIMAGE.

The look and sign of warning which the Sub-Prior gave to Halbert
Glendinning as they parted, went to his heart; for although he had
profited much less than Edward by the good man's instructions, he had
a sincere reverence for his person; and even the short time he had for
deliberation tended to show him he was embarked in a perilous
adventure. The nature of the provocation which he had given to Sir
Piercie Shafton he could not even conjecture; but he saw that it was
of a mortal quality, and he was now to abide the consequences.

That he might not force these consequences forward by any premature
renewal of their quarrel, he resolved to walk apart for an hour, and
consider on what terms he was to meet this haughty foreigner. The time
seemed propitious for his doing so without having the appearance of
wilfully shunning the stranger, as all the members of the little
household were dispersing either to perform such tasks as had been
interrupted by the arrival of the dignitaries, or to put in order what
had been deranged by their visit.

Leaving the tower, therefore, and descending, unobserved as he
thought, the knoll on which it stood, Halbert gained the little piece
of level ground which extended betwixt the descent of the hill, and
the first sweep made by the brook after washing the foot of the
eminence on which the tower was situated, where a few straggling birch
and oak-trees served to secure him from observation. But scarcely had
he reached the spot, when he was surprised to feel a smart tap upon
the shoulder, and, turning around, he perceived he had been closely
followed by Sir Piercie Shafton.  When, whether from our state of
animal spirits, want of confidence in the justice of our cause, or any
other motive, our own courage happens to be in a wavering condition,
nothing tends so much altogether to disconcert us, as a great
appearance of promptitude on the part of our antagonist.  Halbert
Glendinning, both morally and constitutionally intrepid, was
nevertheless somewhat troubled at seeing the stranger, whose
resentment he had provoked, appear at once before him, and with an
aspect which boded hostility. But though his heart might beat somewhat
thicker, he was too high-spirited to exhibit any external signs of
emotion.--"What is your pleasure, Sir Piercie?" he said to the English
knight, enduring without apparent discomposure all the terrors which
his antagonist had summoned into his aspect.

"What is my pleasure!" answered Sir Piercie; "a goodly question after
the part you have acted towards me!--Young man, I know not what
infatuation has led thee to place thyself in direct and insolent
opposition to one who is a guest of thy liege-lord the Abbot, and who,
even from the courtesy due to thy mother's roof, had a right to remain
there without meeting insult. Neither do I ask, or care, by what means
thou hast become possessed of the fatal secret by which thou hast
dared to offer me open shame. But I must now tell thee, that the
possession of it has cost thee thy life."

"Not, I trust, if my hand and sword can defend it," replied Halbert,
boldly.

"True," said the Englishman, "I mean not to deprive thee of thy fair
chance of self-defence. I am only sorry to think, that, young and
country-bred as thou art, it can but little avail thee. But thou must
be well aware, that in this quarrel I shall use no terms of quarter."

"Rely on it, proud man," answered the youth, "that I shall ask none;
and although thou speakest as if I lay already at thy feet, trust me,
that as I am determined never to ask thy mercy, so I am not fearful of
needing it."

"Thou wilt, then," said the knight, "do nothing to avert the certain
fate which thou hast provoked with such wantonness?"

"And how were that to be purchased?" replied Halbert Glendinning, more
with the wish of obtaining some farther insight into the terms on
which he stood with this stranger, than to make him the submission
which he might require.

"Explain to me instantly," said Sir Piercie, "without equivocation or
delay, by what means thou wert enabled to wound my honour so
deeply--and shouldst thou point out to me by so doing an enemy more
worthy of my resentment, I will permit thine own obscure
insignificance to draw a veil over thine insolence."

"This is too high a flight," said Glendinning, fiercely, "for thine
own presumption to soar without being checked. Thou hast come to my
father's house, as well as I can guess, a fugitive and an exile, and
thy first greeting to its inhabitants has been that of contempt and
injury. By what means I have been able to retort that contempt, let
thine own conscience tell thee. Enough for me that I stand on the
privilege of a free Scotchman, and will brook no insult unreturned,
and no injury unrequited."

"It is well, then," said Sir Piercie Shafton; "we will dispute this
matter to-morrow morning with our swords. Let the time be daybreak,
and do thou assign the place. We will go forth as if to strike a
deer."

"Content," replied Halbert Glendinning: "I will guide thee to a spot
where an hundred men might fight and fall without any chance of
interruption."

"It is well," answered Sir Piercie Shafton. "Here then we part.--Many
will say, that in thus indulging the right of a gentleman to the son
of a clod-breaking peasant, I derogate from my sphere, even as the
blessed sun would derogate should he condescend to compare and match
his golden beams with the twinkle of a pale, blinking, expiring,
gross-fed taper. But no consideration of rank shall prevent my
avenging the insult thou hast offered me. We bear a smooth face,
observe me, Sir Villagio, before the worshipful inmates of yonder
cabin, and to-morrow we try conclusions with our swords." So saying,
he turned away towards the tower.

It may not be unworthy of notice, that in the last speech only, had
Sir Piercie used some of those flowers of rhetoric which characterized
the usual style of his conversation. Apparently, a sense of wounded
honour, and the deep desire of vindicating his injured feelings, had
proved too strong for the fantastic affectation of his acquired
habits. Indeed, such is usually the influence of energy of mind, when
called forth and exerted, that Sir Piercie Shafton had never appeared
in the eyes of his youthful antagonist half so much deserving of
esteem and respect as in this brief dialogue, by which they exchanged
mutual defiance. As he followed him slowly to the tower, he could not
help thinking to himself, that, had the English knight always
displayed this superior tone of bearing and feeling, he would not
probably have felt so earnestly disposed to take offence at his hand.
Mortal offence, however, had been exchanged, and the matter was to be
put to mortal arbitrement.

The family met at the evening meal, when Sir Piercie Shafton extended
the benignity of his countenance and the graces of his conversation
far more generally over the party than he had hitherto condescended to
do. The greater part of his attention was, of course, still engrossed
by his divine inimitable Discretion, as he chose to term Mary Avenel;
but, nevertheless there were interjectional flourishes to the Maid of
the Mill, under the title of Comely Damsel, and to the Dame, under
that of Worthy Matron.  Nay, lest he should fail to excite their
admiration by the graces of his rhetoric, he generously, and without
solicitation, added those of his voice; and after regretting bitterly
the absence of his viol-de-gamba, he regaled them with a song,
"which," said he, "the inimitable Astrophel, whom mortals call Philip
Sidney, composed in the nonage of his muse, to show the world what
they are to expect from his riper years, and which will one day see
the light in that not-to-be-paralleled perfection of human wit, which
he has addressed to his sister, the matchless Parthenope, whom men
call Countess of Pembroke; a work," he continued, "whereof his
friendship hath permitted me, though unworthy, to be an occasional
partaker, and whereof I may well say, that the deep afflictive tale
which awakeneth our sorrows, is so relieved with brilliant
similitudes, dulcet descriptions, pleasant poems, and engaging
interludes, that they seem as the stars of the firmament, beautifying
the dusky robe of night.  And though I wot well how much the lovely
and quaint language will suffer by my widowed voice, widowed in that
it is no longer matched by my beloved viol-de-gamba, I will essay to
give you a taste of the ravishing sweetness of the poesy of the
un-to-be-imitated Astrophel."

So saying, he sung without mercy or remorse about five hundred verses,
of which the two first and the four last may suffice for a specimen--

  "What tongue can her perfections tell,
  On whose each part all pens may dwell.

  Of whose high praise arid praiseful bliss,
  Goodness the pen. Heaven paper is;
  The ink immortal fame doth send,
  As I began so I must end."

As Sir Piercie Shafton always sung with his eyes half shut, it was not
until, agreeably to the promise of poetry, he had fairly made an end,
that looking round, he discovered that the greater part of his
audience had, in the meanwhile, yielded to the charms of repose. Mary
Avenel, indeed, from a natural sense of politeness, had contrived to
keep awake through all the perplexities of the divine Astrophel; but
Mysie was transported in dreams back to the dusty atmosphere of her
father's mill. Edward himself, who had given his attention for some
time, had at length fallen fast asleep; and the good dame's nose,
could its tones have been put in regulation, might have supplied the
bass of the lamented viol-de-gamba. Halbert, however, who had no
temptation to give way to the charms of slumber, remained awake with
his eyes fixed on the songster; not that he was better entertained
with the words, or more ravished with the execution, than the rest of
the company, but rather because he admired, or perhaps envied, the
composure, which could thus spend the evening in interminable
madrigals, when the next morning was to be devoted to deadly combat.
Yet it struck his natural acuteness of observation, that the eye of
the gallant cavalier did now and then, furtively as it were, seek a
glance of his countenance, as if to discover how he was taking the
exhibition of his antagonist's composure and serenity of mind.

He shall read nothing in my countenance, thought Halbert, proudly, that
can make him think my indifference less than his own.

And taking from the shelf a bag full of miscellaneous matters
collected for the purpose, he began with great industry to dress
hooks, and had finished half-a-dozen of flies (we are enabled, for the
benefit of those who admire the antiquities of the gentle art of
angling, to state that they were brown hackles) by the time that Sir
Piercie had arrived at the conclusion of his long-winded strophes of
the divine Astrophel. So that he also testified a magnanimous contempt
of that which to-morrow should bring forth.

As it now waxed late, the family of Glendearg separated for the evening;
Sir Piercie first saying to the dame, that "her son Albert--"

"Halbert," said Elspeth, with emphasis, "Halbert, after his goodsire,
Halbert Brydone."

"Well, then, I have prayed your son, Halbert, that we may strive
tomorrow, with the sun's earliness, to wake a stag from his lair, that
I may see whether he be as prompt at that sport as fame bespeaks him."

"Alas! sir," answered Dame Elspeth, "he is but too prompt, an you talk
of promptitude, at any thing that has steel at one end of it, and
mischief at the other. But he is at your honourable disposal, and I
trust you will teach him how obedience is due to our venerable father
and lord, the Abbot, and prevail with him to take the bow-bearer's
place in fee; for, as the two worthy monks said, it will be a great
help to a widow-woman."

"Trust me, good dame," replied Sir Piercie, "it is my purpose so to
indoctrinate him. touching his conduct and bearing towards his
betters, that he shall not lightly depart from the reverence due to
them.--We meet, then, beneath the birch-trees in the plain," he said,
looking to Halbert, "so soon as the eye of day hath opened its
lids."--Halbert answered with a sign of acquiescence, and the knight
proceeded, "And now, having wished to my fairest Discretion those
pleasant dreams which wave their pinions around the couch of sleeping
beauty, and to this comely damsel the bounties of Morpheus, and to all
others the common good-night, I will crave you leave to depart to my
place of rest, though I may say with the poet,

  'Ah rest!--no rest but change of place and posture:
  Ah sleep!--no sleep but worn-out Nature's swooning;
  Ah bed!--no bed but cushion fill'd with stones:
  Rest, sleep, nor bed, await not on an exile.'"

With a delicate obeisance he left the room, evading Dame Glendinning,
who hastened to assure him he would find his accommodations for repose
much more agreeable than they had been the night before, there having
been store of warm coverlets, and a soft feather-bed, sent up from the
Abbey.  But the good knight probably thought that the grace and effect
of his exit would be diminished, if he were recalled from his heroics
to discuss such sublunary and domestic topics, and therefore hastened
away without waiting to hear her out.

"A pleasant gentleman," said Dame Glendinning; "but I will warrant him
an humorous [Footnote: _Humorous_--full of whims--thus
Shakspeare, "Humorous as winter."--The vulgar word humorsome comes
nearest to the meaning.]--And sings a sweet song, though it is
somewhat of the longest.--Well, I make mine avow he is goodly
company--I wonder when he will go away."

Having thus expressed her respect for her guest, not without
intimation that she was heartily tired of his company, the good dame
gave the signal for the family to disperse, and laid her injunctions
on Halbert to attend Sir Piercie Shafton at daybreak, as he required.

When stretched on his pallet by his brother's side, Halbert had no
small cause to envy the sound sleep which instantly settled on the
eyes of Edward, but refused him any share of its influence. He saw now
too well what the spirit had darkly indicated, that, in granting the
boon which he had asked so unadvisedly, she had contributed more to
his harm than his good. He was now sensible, too late, of the various
dangers and inconveniences with which his dearest friends were
threatened, alike by his discomfiture or his success in the
approaching duel. If he fell, he might say personally, "good-night
all." But it was not the less certain that he should leave a dreadful
legacy of distress and embarrassment to his mother and family,--an
anticipation which by no means tended to render the front of death, in
itself a grisly object, more agreeable to his imagination. The
vengeance of the Abbot, his conscience told him, was sure to descend
on his mother and brother, or could only be averted by the generosity
of the victor--And Mary Avenel--he should have shown himself, if he
succumbed in the present combat, as inefficient in protecting her, as
he had been unnecessarily active in bringing disaster on her, and on
the house in which she had been protected from infancy. And to this
view of the case were to be added all those imbittered and anxious
feelings with which the bravest men, even in a better or less doubtful
quarrel, regard the issue of a dubious conflict, the first time when
it has been their fate to engage in an affair of that nature.

But however disconsolate the prospect seemed in the event of his being
conquered, Halbert could expect from victory little more than the
safety of his own life, and the gratification of his wounded pride. To
his friends--to his mother and brother--especially to Mary Avenel--the
consequences of his triumph would be more certain destruction than the
contingency of his defeat and death. If the English knight survived,
he might in courtesy extend his protection to them; but if he fell,
nothing was likely to screen them from the vindictive measures which
the Abbot and convent would surely adopt against the violation of the
peace of the Halidome, and the slaughter of a protected guest by one
of their own vassals, within whose house they had lodged him for
shelter. These thoughts, in which neither view of the case augured
aught short of ruin to his family, and that ruin entirely brought on
by his own rashness, were thorns in Halbert Glendinning's pillow, and
deprived his soul of peace and his eyes of slumber.

There appeared no middle course, saving one which was marked by
degradation, and which, even if he stooped to it, was by no means free
of danger.  He might indeed confess to the English knight the strange
circumstances which led to his presenting him with that token which
the White Lady (in her displeasure as it now seemed) had given him,
that he might offer it to Sir Piercie Shafton. But to this avowal his
pride could not stoop, and reason, who is wonderfully ready to be of
counsel with pride on such occasions, offered many arguments to show
it would be useless as well as mean so far to degrade himself. "If I
tell a tale so wonderful," thought he, "shall I not either be
stigmatized as a liar, or punished as a wizard?--Were Sir Piercie
Shafton generous, noble, and benevolent, as the champions of whom we
hear in romance, I might indeed gain his ear, and, without demeaning
myself, escape from the situation in which I am placed. But as he is,
or at least seems to be, self-conceited, arrogant, vain, and
presumptuous--I should but humble myself in vain--and I will not
humble myself!" he said, starting out of bed, grasping his broadsword,
and brandishing it in the light of the moon, which streamed through
the deep niche that served them as a window; when, to his extreme
surprise and terror, an airy form stood in the moonlight, but
intercepted not the reflection on the floor. Dimly as it was
expressed, the sound of the voice soon made him sensible he saw the
White Lady.

At no time had her presence seemed so terrific to him; for when he had
invoked her, it was with the expectation of the apparition, and the
determination to abide the issue. But now she had come uncalled, and
her presence impressed him with a sense of approaching misfortune, and
with the hideous apprehension that he had associated himself with a
demon, over whose motions he had no control, and of whose powers and
quality he had no certain knowledge. He remained, therefore, in mere
terror, gazing on the apparition, which chanted or recited in cadence
the following lines--

  "He whose heart for vengeance sued,
  Must not shrink from shedding blood
  The knot that thou hast tied with word,
  Thou must loose by edge of sword."

"Avaunt thee, false Spirit!" said Halbert Glendinning; "I have bought
thy advice too dearly already--Begone in the name of God!"

The Spirit laughed; and the cold unnatural sound of her laughter had
something in it more fearful than the usually melancholy tones of her
voice. She then replied,--

  "You have summon'd me once--you have summoned me twice,
  And without e'er a summons I come to you thrice;
  Unask'd for, unsued for, you came to my glen;
  Unsued and unask'd I am with you again."

Halbert Glendinning gave way for a moment to terror, and called on his
brother, "Edward! waken, waken, for Our Lady's sake!"

Edward awaked accordingly, and asked what he wanted.

"Look out," said Halbert, "look up! seest thou no one in the room?"

"No, upon my good word," said Edward, looking out.

"What! seest thou nothing in the moonshine upon the floor there?"

"No, nothing," answered Edward, "save thyself resting on thy naked
sword. I tell thee, Halbert, thou shouldst trust more to thy spiritual
arms, and less to those of steel and iron. For this many a night hast
thou started and moaned, and cried out of fighting, and of spectres,
and of goblins--thy sleep hath not refreshed thee--thy waking hath
been a dream.--Credit me, dear Halbert, say the _Pater_ and
_Credo_, resign thyself to the protection of God, and thou wilt
sleep sound and wake in comfort."

"It may be," said Halbert slowly, and having his eye still bent on the
female form which to him seemed distinctly visible,--"it may be. But
tell me, dear Edward, seest thou no one on the chamber floor but me?"

"No one," answered Edward, raising himself on his elbow; "dear
brother, lay aside thy weapon, say thy prayers, and lay thee down to
rest."

While he thus spoke, the Spirit smiled at Halbert as if in scorn; her
wan cheek faded in the wan moonlight even before the smile had passed
away, and Halbert himself no longer beheld the vision to which he had
so anxiously solicited his brother's attention. "May God preserve my
wits!" he said, as, laying aside his weapon, he again threw himself on
his bed.

"Amen! my dearest brother," answered Edward; "but we must not provoke
that Heaven in our wantonness which we invoke in our misery.--Be not
angry with me, my dear brother--I know not why you have totally of
late estranged yourself from me--It is true, I am neither so athletic
in body, nor so alert in courage, as you have been from your infancy;
yet, till lately, you have not absolutely cast off my society--Believe
me, I have wept in secret, though I forbore to intrude myself on your
privacy. The time has been--when you held me not so cheap; and--when,
if I could not follow the game so closely, or mark it so truly as you,
I could fill up our intervals of pastime with pleasant tales of the
olden times, which I had read or heard, and which excited even your
attention as we sate and ate our provision by some pleasant
spring--but now I have, though I know not why, lost thy regard and
affection.--Nay, toss not thy arms about thee thus wildly," said the
younger brother; "from thy strange dreams, I fear some touch of fever
hath affected thy blood--let me draw closer around thee thy mantle."

"Forbear," said Halbert--"your care is needless--your complaints are
without reason--your fears on my account are in vain."

"Nay, but hear me, brother," said Edward. "Your speech in sleep, and
now even your waking dreams, are of beings which belong not to this
world, or to our race--Our good Father Eustace says, that howbeit we
may not do well to receive all idle tales of goblins and spectres, yet
there is warrant from holy Scripture to believe, that the fiends haunt
waste and solitary places; and that those who frequent such
wildernesses alone, are the prey, or the sport, of these wandering
demons. And therefore, I pray thee, brother, let me go with you when
you go next up the glen, where, as you well know, there be places of
evil reputation--Thou carest not for my escort; but, Halbert, such
dangers are more safely encountered by the wise in judgment, than by
the bold in bosom; and though I have small cause to boast of my own
wisdom, yet I have that which ariseth from the written knowledge of
elder times."

There was a moment during this discourse, when Halbert had well-nigh
come to the resolution of disburdening his own breast, by intrusting
Edward with all that weighed upon it. But when his brother reminded
him that this was the morning of a high holiday, and that, setting
aside all other business or pleasure, he ought to go to the Monastery
and shrive himself before Father Eustace, who would that day occupy
the confessional, pride stepped in and confirmed his wavering
resolution. "I will not avow," he thought, "a tale so extraordinary,
that I may be considered as an impostor or something worse--I will not
fly from this Englishman, whose arm and sword may be no better than my
own. My fathers have faced his betters, were he as much distinguished
in battle as he is by his quaint discourse."

Pride, which has been said to save man, and woman too, from falling,
has yet a stronger influence on the mind when it embraces the cause of
passion, and seldom fails to render it victorious over conscience and
reason. Halbert, once determined, though not to the better course, at
length slept soundly, and was only awakened by the dawn of day.

       *       *       *       *       *       *



Chapter the Twenty-First.


  Indifferent, but indifferent--pshaw, he doth it not
  Like one who is his craft's master--ne'er the less
  I have seen a clown confer a bloody coxcomb
  On one who was a master of defence.
                                      OLD PLAY.

With the first gray peep of dawn, Halbert Glendinning arose and
hastened to dress himself, girded on his weapon, and took a cross-bow
in his hand, as if his usual sport had been his sole object. He groped
his way down the dark and winding staircase, and undid, with as little
noise as possible, the fastenings of the inner door, and of the
exterior iron grate.  At length he stood free in the court-yard, and
looking up to the tower, saw a signal made with a handkerchief from
the window. Nothing doubting that it was his antagonist, he paused,
expecting him. But it was Mary Avenel, who glided like a spirit from
under the low and rugged portal.

Halbert was much surprised, and felt, he knew not why, like one caught
in the act of a meditated trespass. The presence of Mary Avenel had till
that moment never given him pain. She spoke, too, in a tone where sorrow
seemed to mingle with reproach, while she asked him with emphasis,
"What he was about to do?"

He showed his cross-bow, and was about to express the pretext he had
meditated, when Mary interrupted him.

"Not so, Halbert--that evasion were unworthy of one whose word has
hitherto been truth. You meditate not the destruction of the deer--your
hand and your heart are aimed at other game--you seek to do battle with
this stranger."

"And wherefore should I quarrel with our guest?" answered Halbert,
blushing deeply.

"There are, indeed, many reasons why you should not," replied the
maiden, "nor is there one of avail wherefore you should--yet
nevertheless, such a quarrel you are now searching after."

"Why should you suppose so, Mary?" said Halbert, endeavouring to hide
his conscious purpose--"he is my mother's guest--he is protected by
the Abbot and the community, who are our masters--he is of high degree
also,--and wherefore should you think that I can, or dare, resent a
hasty word, which he has perchance thrown out against me more from the
wantonness of his wit, than the purpose of his heart?"

"Alas!" answered the maiden, "the very asking that question puts your
resolution beyond a doubt. Since your childhood you were ever daring,
seeking danger rather than avoiding it--delighting in whatever had the
air of adventure and of courage: and it is not from fear that you will
now blench from your purpose--Oh, let it then be from pity!--from
pity, Halbert, to your aged mother, whom your death or victory will
alike deprive of the comfort and stay of her age."

"She has my brother Edward," said Halbert, turning suddenly from her.

"She has indeed," said Mary Avenel, "the calm, the noble-minded, the
considerate Edward, who has thy courage, Halbert, without thy fiery
rashness,--thy generous spirit, with more of reason to guide it. He
would not have heard his mother, would not have heard his adopted
sister, beseech him in vain not to ruin himself, and tear up their
future hopes of happiness and protection."