Halbert's heart swelled as he replied to this reproach. "Well--what
avails it speaking?--you have him that is better than me--wiser, more
considerate--braver, for aught I know--you are provided with a
protector, and need care no more for me."

Again he turned to depart, but Mary Avenel laid her hand on his arm so
gently that he scarce felt her hold, yet felt that it was impossible
for him to strike it off. There he stood, one foot advanced to leave
the court-yard, but so little determined on departure, that he
resembled a traveller arrested by the spell of a magician, and unable
either to quit the attitude of motion, or to proceed on his course.

Mary Avenel availed herself of his state of suspense. "Hear me," she
said, "hear me, Halbert!--I am an orphan, and even Heaven hears the
orphan--I have been the companion of your infancy, and if _you_
will not hear me for an instant, from whom may Mary Avenel claim so
poor a boon?"

"I hear you," said Halbert Glendinning, "but be brief, dear Mary--you
mistake the nature of my business--it is but a morning of summer sport
which we propose."

"Say not thus," said the maiden, interrupting him, "say not thus to me
--others thou mayst deceive, but me thou canst not--There has been
that in me from the earliest youth, which fraud flies from, and which
imposture cannot deceive. For what fate has given me such a power I
know not; but bred an ignorant maiden, in this sequestered valley,
mine eyes can too often see what man would most willingly hide--I can
judge of the dark purpose, though it is hid under the smiling brow,
and a glance of the eye says more to me than oaths and protestations
do to others."

"Then," said Halbert, "if thou canst so read the human heart,--say,
dear Mary--what dost thou see in mine?--tell me that--say that what
thou seest--what thou readest in this bosom, does not offend thee--say
but _that_, and thou shalt be the guide of my actions, and mould
me now and henceforward to honour or to dishonour at thy own free
will!"

Mary Avenel became first red, and then deadly pale, as Halbert
Glendinning spoke. But when, turning round at the close of his
address, he took her hand, she gently withdrew it, and replied, "I
cannot read the heart, Halbert, and I would not of my will know aught
of yours, save what beseems us both--I only can judge of signs, words,
and actions of little outward import, more truly than those around me,
as my eyes, thou knowest, have seen objects not presented to those of
others."

"Let them gaze then on one whom they shall never see more," said
Halbert, once more turning from her, and rushing out of the court-yard
without again looking back.

Mary Avenel gave a faint scream, and clasped both her hands firmly on
her forehead and eyes. She had been a minute in this attitude, when
she was thus greeted by a voice from behind: "Generously done, my most
clement Discretion, to hide those brilliant eyes from the far inferior
beams which even now begin to gild the eastern horizon--Certes, peril
there were that Phoebus, outshone in splendour, might in very
shamefacedness turn back his ear, and rather leave the world in
darkness, than incur the disgrace of such an encounter--Credit me,
lovely Discretion--"

But as Sir Piercie Shafton (the reader will readily set down these
flowers of eloquence to the proper owner) attempted to take Mary
Avenel's hand, in order to proceed in his speech, she shook him
abruptly off, and regarding him with an eye which evinced terror and
agitation, rushed past him into the tower.

The knight stood looking after her with a countenance in which
contempt was strongly mingled with mortification. "By my knighthood!"
he ejaculated, "I have thrown away upon this rude rustic Phidel? a
speech, which the proudest beauty at the court of Felicia (so let me
call the Elysium from which I am banished!) might have termed the very
matins of Cupid. Hard and inexorable was the fate that sent thee
thither, Piercie Shafton, to waste thy wit upon country wenches, and
thy valour upon hob-nailed clowns!  But that insult--that affront--had
it been offered to me by the lowest plebeian, he must have died for it
by my hand, in respect the enormity of the offence doth countervail
the inequality of him by whom it is given. I trust I shall find this
clownish roisterer not less willing to deal in blows than in taunts."

While he held this conversation with himself, Sir Piercie Shafton was
hastening to the little tuft of birch-trees which had been assigned as
the place of meeting. He greeted his antagonist with a courtly
salutation, followed by this commentary: "I pray you to observe, that
I doff my hat to you, though so much my inferior in rank, without
derogation on my part, inasmuch as my having so far honoured you in
receiving and admitting your defiance, doth, in the judgment of the
best martialists, in some sort and for the time, raise you to a level
with me--an honour which you may and ought to account cheaply
purchased, even with the loss of your life, if such should chance to
be the issue of this duello."

"For which condescension," said Halbert, "I have to thank the token
which I presented to you."

The knight changed colour, and grinded his teeth with rage--"Draw your
weapon!" said he to Glendinning.

"Not in this spot," answered the youth; "we should be liable to
interruption--Follow me, and I will bring you to a place where we
shall encounter no such risk."

He proceeded to walk up the glen, resolving that their place of combat
should be in the entrance of the Corri-nan-shian; both because the
spot, lying under the reputation of being haunted, was very little
frequented, and also because he regarded it as a place which to him
might be termed fated, and which he therefore resolved should witness
his death or victory.  They walked up the glen for some time in
silence, like honourable enemies who did not wish to contend with
words, and who had nothing friendly to exchange with each other.
Silence, however, was always an irksome state with Sir Piercie and,
moreover, his anger was usually a hasty and short-lived passion. As,
therefore, he went forth, in his own idea, in all love and honour
towards his antagonist, he saw not any cause for submitting longer to
the painful restraint of positive silence. He began by complimenting
Halbert on the alert activity with which he surmounted the obstacles
and impediments of the way.

"Trust me," said he, "worthy rustic, we have not a lighter or a firmer
step in our courtlike revels, and if duly set forth by a silk hose,
and trained unto that stately exercise, your leg would make an
indifferent good show in a pavin or a galliard. And I doubt nothing,"
he added, "that you have availed yourself of some opportunity to
improve yourself in the art of fence, which is more akin than dancing
to our present purpose?"

"I know nothing more of fencing," said Halbert, "than hath been taught
me by an old shepherd of ours, called Martin, and at whiles a lesson
from Christie of the Clinthill--for the rest, I must trust to good
sword, strong arm, and sound heart."

"Marry and I am glad of it, young Audacity, (I will call you my
Audacity, and you will call me your Condescension, while we are on
these terms of unnatural equality,) I am glad of your ignorance with
all my heart. For we martialists proportion the punishments which we
inflict upon our opposites, to the length and hazard of the efforts
wherewith they oppose themselves to us. And I see not why you, being
but a tyro, may not be held sufficiently punished for your
outrecuidance, and orgillous presumption, by the loss of an ear, an
eye, or even a finger, accompanied by some flesh-wound of depth and
severity, suited to your error--whereas, had you been able to stand
more effectually on your defence, I see not how less than your life
could have atoned sufficiently for your presumption."

"Now, by God and Our Lady," said Halbert, unable any longer to
restrain himself, "thou art thyself over-presumptuous, who speakest
thus daringly of the issue of a combat which is not yet even
begun--Are you a god, that you already dispose of my life and limbs?
or are you a judge in the justice-air, telling at your ease and
without risk, how the head and quarters of a condemned criminal are to
be disposed of?"

"Not so, O thou,--whom I have well permitted to call thyself my
Audacity.  I, thy Condescension, am neither a god to judge the issue
of the combat before it is fought, nor a judge to dispose at my ease
and in safety of the limbs and head of a condemned criminal; but I am
an indifferent good master of fence, being the first pupil of the
first master of the first school of fence that our royal England
affords, the said master being no other than the truly noble, and
all-unutterably skilful Vincentio Saviola, from whom I learned the
firm step, quick eye, and nimble hand--of which qualities thou, O my
most rustical Audacity, art full like to reap the fruits so soon as we
shall find a piece of ground fitting for such experiments."

They had now reached the gorge of the ravine, where Halbert had at
first intended to stop; but when he observed the narrowness of the
level ground, he began to consider that it was only by superior
agility that he could expect to make up his deficiency in the science,
as it was called, of defence. He found no spot which afforded
sufficient room to traverse for this purpose, until he gained the
well-known fountain, by whose margin, and in front of the huge rock
from which it sprung, was an amphitheatre of level turf, of small
space indeed, compared with the great height of the cliffs with which
it was surrounded on every point save that from which the rivulet
issued forth, yet large enough for their present purpose.

When they had reached this spot of ground, fitted well by its gloom
and sequestered situation to be a scene of mortal strife, both were
surprised to observe that a grave was dug close by the foot of the
rock with great neatness and regularity, the green turf being laid
down upon the one side, and the earth thrown out in a heap upon the
other. A mattock and shovel lay by the verge of the grave.

Sir Piercie Shafton bent his eye with unusual seriousness upon Halbert
Glendinning, as he asked him sternly, "Does this bode treason, young
man? And have you purpose to set upon me here as in an emboscata or
place of vantage?"

"Not on my part, by Heaven!" answered the youth: "I told no one of our
purpose, nor would I for the throne of Scotland take odds against a
single arm."

"I believe thou wouldst not, mine Audacity," said the knight, resuming
the affected manner which was become a second nature to him;
"nevertheless this fosse is curiously well shaped, and might be the
masterpiece of Nature's last bed-maker, I would say the
sexton--Wherefore, let us be thankful to chance or some unknown
friend, who hath thus provided for one of us the decencies of
sepulture, and let us proceed to determine which shall have the
advantage of enjoying this place of undisturbed slumber."

So saying, he stripped off his doublet and cloak, which he folded up
with great care, and deposited upon a large stone, while Halbert
Glendinning, not without some emotion, followed his example. Their
vicinity to the favourite haunt of the White Lady led him to form
conjectures concerning the incident of the grave--"It must have been
her work!" he thought: "the Spirit foresaw and has provided for the
fatal event of the combat--I must return from this place a homicide,
or I must remain here for ever!"

The bridge seemed now broken down behind him, and the chance of coming
off honourably without killing or being killed, (the hope of which
issue has cheered the sinking heart of many a duellist,) seemed now
altogether to be removed. Yet the very desperation of his situation
gave him, on an instant's reflection, both firmness and courage, and
presented to him one sole alternative, conquest, namely, or death.

"As we are here," said Sir Piercie Shafton, "unaccompanied by any
patrons or seconds, it were well you should pass your hands over my
sides, as I shall over yours; not that I suspect you to use any quaint
device of privy armour, but in order to comply with the ancient and
laudable custom practised on all such occasions."

While complying with his antagonist's humour, Halbert Glendinning went
through this ceremony, Sir Piercie Shafton did not fail to solicit his
attention to the quality and fineness of his wrought and embroidered
shirt--"In this very shirt," said he, "O mine Audacity!--I say in this
very garment, in which I am now to combat a Scottish rustic like
thyself, it was my envied lot to lead the winning party at that
wonderous match at ballon, made betwixt the divine Astrophel, (our
matchless Sidney,) and the right honourable my very good lord of
Oxford. All the beauties of Felicia (by which name I distinguish our
beloved England) stood in the gallery, waving their kerchiefs at each
turn of the game, and cheering the winners by their plaudits. After
which noble sport we were refreshed by a suitable banquet, whereat it
pleased the noble Urania (being the unmatched Countess of Pembroke) to
accommodate me with her fan for the cooling my somewhat too much
inflamed visage, to requite which courtesy, I said, casting my
features into a smiling, yet melancholy fashion, O divinest Urania!
receive again that too fatal gift, which not like the Zephyr cooleth,
but like the hot breath of the Sirocco, heateth yet more that which is
already inflamed. Whereupon, looking upon me somewhat scornfully, yet
not so but what the experienced courtier might perceive a certain cast
of approbative affection----"

Here the knight was interrupted by Halbert, who had waited with
courteous patience for some little time, till he found, that far from
drawing to a close, Sir Piercie seemed rather inclined to wax prolix
in his reminiscences.

"Sir Knight," said the youth, "if this matter be not very much to the
purpose, we will, if you object not, proceed to that which we have in
hand.  You should have abidden in England had you desired to waste
time in words, for here we spend it in blows."

"I crave your pardon, most rusticated Audacity," answered Sir Piercie;
"truly I become oblivious of every thing beside, when the
recollections of the divine court of Felicia press upon my wakened
memory, even as a saint is dazzled when he bethinks him of the
beatific vision. Ah, felicitous Feliciana!  delicate nurse of the
fair, chosen abode of the wise, the birth-place and cradle of
nobility, the temple of courtesy, the fane of sprightly chivalry--Ah,
heavenly court, or rather courtly heaven! cheered with dances, lulled
asleep with harmony, wakened with sprightly sports and tourneys,
decored with silks and tissues, glittering with diamonds and jewels,
standing on end with double-piled velvets, satins, and satinettas!"

"The token, Sir Knight, the token!" exclaimed Halbert Glendinning,
who, impatient of Sir Piercie's interminable oratory, reminded him of
the ground of their quarrel, as the best way to compel him to the
purpose of their meeting.

And he judged right; for Sir Piercie Shafton no sooner heard him
speak, than he exclaimed, "Thy death-hour has struck--betake thee to
thy sword--Via!"

Both swords were unsheathed, and the combatants commenced their
engagement. Halbert became immediately aware, that, as he had
expected, he was far inferior to his adversary in the use of his
weapon. Sir Piercie Shafton had taken no more than his own share of
real merit, when he termed himself an absolutely good fencer; and
Glendinning soon found that he should have great difficulty in
escaping with life and honour from such a master of the sword. The
English knight was master of all the mystery of the _stoccata,
imbrocata, punto-reverso, incartata_, and so forth, which the
Italian masters of defence had lately introduced into general
practice. But Glendinning, on his part, was no novice in the
principles of the art, according to the old Scottish fashion, and
possessed the first of all qualities, a steady and collected mind. At
first, being desirous to try the skill, and become acquainted with the
play of his enemy, he stood on his defence, keeping his foot, hand,
eye, and body, in perfect unison, and holding his sword short, and
with the point towards his antagonist's face, so that Sir Piercie, in
order to assail him, was obliged to make actual passes, and could not
avail himself of his skill in making feints; while, on the other hand,
Halbert was prompt to parry these attacks, either by shifting his
ground or with the sword. The consequence was, that after two or three
sharp attempts on the part of Sir Piercie, which were evaded or
disconcerted by the address of his opponent, he began to assume the
defensive in his turn, fearful of giving some advantage by being
repeatedly the assailant. But Halbert was too cautious to press on a
swordsman whose dexterity had already more than once placed him within
a hair's breadth of death, which he had only escaped by uncommon
watchfulness and agility.

When each had made a feint or two, there was a pause in the conflict,
both as if by one assent dropping their swords' point, and looking on
each other for a moment without speaking. At length Halbert
Glendinning, who felt perhaps more uneasy on account of his family
than he had done before he had displayed his own courage, and proved
the strength of his antagonist, could not help saying, "Is the subject
of our quarrel, Sir Knight, so mortal, that one of our two bodies must
needs fill up that grave? or may we with honour, having proved
ourselves against each other, sheathe our swords and depart friends?"

"Valiant and most rustical Audacity," said the Southron knight, "to no
man on earth could you have put a question on the code of honour, who
was more capable of rendering you a reason. Let us pause for the space
of one venue, until I give you my opinion on this dependence,
[Footnote: _Dependence_--A phrase among the brethren of the sword
for an existing quarrel.] for certain it is, that brave men should not
run upon their fate like brute and furious wild beasts, but should
slay each other deliberately, decently, and with reason.  Therefore,
if we coolly examine the state of our dependence, we may the better
apprehend whether the sisters three have doomed one of us to expiate
the same with his blood--Dost thou understand me?"

"I have heard Father Eustace," said Halbert, after a moment's
recollection, "speak of the three furies, with their thread and their
shears."

"Enough--enough,"--interrupted Sir Piercie Shafton, crimsoning with
a new fit of rage, "the thread of thy life is spun!"

And with these words he attacked with the utmost ferocity the Scottish
youth, who had but just time to throw himself into a posture of
defence.  But the rash fury of the assailant, as frequently happens,
disappointed its own purpose; for, as he made a desperate thrust,
Halbert Glendinning avoided it, and ere the knight could recover his
weapon, requited him (to use his own language) with a resolute
stoccata, which passed through his body, and Sir Piercie Shafton fell
to the ground.

        *       *       *      *       *



Chapter the Twenty-Second.


  Yes, life hath left him--every busy thought,
  Each fiery passion, every strong affection,
  All sense of outward ill and inward sorrow,
  Are fled at once from the pale trunk before me;
  And I have given that which spoke and moved,
  Thought, acted, suffer'd as a living man,
  To be a ghastly form of bloody clay,
  Soon the foul food for reptiles.
                                        OLD PLAY.

I believe few successful duellists (if the word successful can be
applied to a superiority so fatal) have beheld their dead antagonist
stretched on the earth at their feet, without wishing they could
redeem with their own blood that which it has been their fate to
spill. Least of all could such indifference be the lot of so young a
man as Halbert Glendinning, who, unused to the sight of human blood,
was not only struck with sorrow, but with terror, when he beheld Sir
Piercie Shafton lie stretched on the green-sward before him, vomiting
gore as if impelled by the strokes of a pump. He threw his bloody
sword on the ground, and hastened to kneel and support him, vainly
striving, at the same time, to stanch his wound, which seemed rather
to bleed inwardly than externally.

The unfortunate knight spoke at intervals, when the syncope would
permit him, and his words, so far as intelligible, partook of his
affected and conceited, yet not ungenerous character.

"Most rustical youth," he said, "thy fortune hath prevailed over
knightly skill--and Audacity hath overcome Condescension, even as the
kite hath sometimes hawked at and struck down the falcon-gentle.--Fly
and save thyself!--Take my purse--it is in the nether pocket of my
carnation-coloured hose--and is worth a clown's acceptance. See that
my mails, with my vestments, be sent to the Monastery of Saint
Mary's"--(here his voice grew weak, and his mind and recollection
seemed to waver)--"I bestow the cut velvet jerkin, with close breeches
conforming--for--oh!--the good of my soul."

"Be of good comfort, sir," said Halbert, half distracted with his agony
of pity and remorse. "I trust you shall yet do well--Oh for a leech!"

"Were there twenty physicians, O most generous Audacity, and that were
a grave spectacle--I might not survive, my life is ebbing
fast.--Commend me to the rustical nymph whom I called my Discretion--O
Claridiana!--true empress of this bleeding heart--which now bleedeth
in sad earnest!--Place me on the ground at my length, most rustical
victor, born to quench the pride of the burning light of the most
felicitous court of Feliciana--O saints and angels---knights and
ladies--masques and theatres--quaint devices--chain-work and
broidery--love, honour, and beauty!----"

While muttering these last words, which slid from him, as it were
unawares, while doubtless he was calling to mind the glories of the
English court, the gallant Sir Piercie Shafton stretched out his
limbs--groaned deeply, shut his eyes, and became motionless.

The victor tore his hair for very sorrow, as he looked on the pale
countenance of his victim. Life, he thought, had not utterly fled, but
without better aid than his own, he saw not how it could be preserved.

"Why," he exclaimed in vain penitence, "why did I provoke him to an
issue so fatal! Would to God I had submitted to the worst insult man
could receive from man, rather than be the bloody instrument of this
bloody deed--and doubly cursed be this evil-boding spot, which,
haunted as I knew it to be by a witch or a devil, I yet chose for the
place of combat! In any other place, save this, there had been help to
be gotten by speed of foot, or by uplifting of voice--but here there
is no one to be found by search, no one to hear my shouts, save the
evil spirit who has counselled this mischief.  It is not her hour--I
will essay the spell howsoever; and if she can give me aid, she
_shall_ do it, or know of what a madman is capable even against
those of another world!"

He spurned his bloody shoe from his foot, and repeated the spell with
which the reader is well acquainted; but there was neither voice,
apparition, nor signal of answer. The youth, in the impatience of his
despair, and with the rash hardihood which formed the basis of his
character, shouted aloud, "Witch--Sorceress--Fiend!--art thou deaf to
my cries of help, and so ready to appear and answer those of
vengeance? Arise and speak to me, or I will choke up thy fountain,
tear down thy hollybush, and leave thy haunt as waste and bare as thy
fatal assistance has made me waste of comfort and bare of
counsel!"--This furious and raving invocation was suddenly interrupted
by a distant sound, resembling a hollo, from the gorge of the ravine.
"Now may Saint Mary be praised," said the youth, hastily fastening his
sandal, "I hear the voice of some living man, who may give me counsel
and help in this fearful extremity."

Having donned his sandal, Halbert Glendinning, hallooing at intervals,
in answer to the sound which he had heard, ran with the speed of a
hunted buck down the rugged defile, as if paradise had been before
him, hell and all her furies behind, and his eternal happiness or
misery had depended upon the speed which he exerted. In a space
incredibly short for any one but a Scottish mountaineer having his
nerves strung by the deepest and most passionate interest, the youth
reached the entrance of the ravine, through which the rill that flows
down Corri-nan-shian discharges itself, and unites with the brook that
waters the little valley of Glendearg.

Here he paused, and looked around him upwards and downwards through
the glen, without perceiving a human form. His heart sank within him.
But the windings of the glen intercepted his prospect, and the person,
whose voice he had heard, might therefore, be at no great distance,
though not obvious to his sight. The branches of an oak-tree, which
shot straight out from the face of a tall cliff, proffered to his bold
spirit, steady head, and active limbs, the means of ascending it as a
place of out-look, although the enterprise was what most men would
have shrunk from. But by one bound from the earth, the active youth
caught hold of the lower branch, and swung himself up into the tree,
and in a minute more gained the top of the cliff, from which he could
easily descry a human figure descending the valley.  It was not that
of a shepherd, or of a hunter, and scarcely any others used to
traverse this deserted solitude, especially coming from the north,
since the reader may remember that the brook took its rise from an
extensive and dangerous morass which lay in that direction.

But Halbert Glendinning did not pause to consider who the traveller
might be, or what might be the purpose of his journey. To know that he
saw a human being, and might receive, in the extremity of his
distress, the countenance and advice of a fellow-creature, was enough
for him at the moment. He threw himself from the pinnacle of the cliff
once more into the arms of the projecting oak-tree, whose boughs waved
in middle air, anchored by the roots in a huge rift or chasm of the
rock. Catching at the branch which was nearest to him, he dropped
himself from that height upon the ground; and such was the athletic
springiness of his youthful sinews, that he pitched there as lightly,
and with as little injury, as the falcon stooping from her wheel.

To resume his race at full speed up the glen, was the work of an
instant; and as he turned angle after angle of the indented banks of
the valley, without meeting that which he sought, he became half
afraid that the form which he had seen at such a distance had already
melted into thin air, and was either a deception of his own
imagination, or of the elementary spirits by which the valley was
supposed to be haunted.

But to his inexpressible joy, as he turned round the base of a huge
and distinguished crag, he saw, straight before and very near to him,
a person, whose dress, as he viewed it hastily, resembled that of a
pilgrim.

He was a man of advanced life, and wearing a long beard, having on his
head a large slouched hat, without either band or brooch. His dress
was a tunic of black serge, which, like those commonly called
hussar-cloaks, had an upper part, which covered the arms and fell down
on the lower; a small scrip and bottle, which hung at his back, with a
stout staff in his hand, completed his equipage. His step was feeble,
like that of one exhausted by a toilsome journey.

"Save ye, good father!" said the youth. "God and Our Lady have sent
you to my assistance."

"And in what, my son, can so frail a creature as I am, be of service
to you?" said the old man, not a little surprised at being thus
accosted by so handsome a youth, his features discomposed by anxiety,
his face flushed with exertion, his hands and much of his dress
stained with blood.  "A man bleeds to death in the valley here, hard
by. Come with me--come with me! You are aged--you have
experience--you have at least your senses--and mine have well nigh
left me."

"A man--and bleeding to death--and here in this desolate spot!" said
the stranger.

"Stay not to question it, father," said the youth, "but come instantly
to his rescue. Follow me,--follow me, without an instant's delay."

"Nay, but, my son," said the old man, "we do not lightly follow the
guides who present themselves thus suddenly in the bosom of a howling
wilderness. Ere I follow thee, thou must expound to me thy name, thy
purpose, and thy cause."

"There is no time to expound any thing," said Halbert; "I tell thee a
man's life is at stake, and thou must come to aid him, or I will carry
thee thither by force!"

"Nay, thou shalt not need," said the traveller; "if it indeed be as
thou sayest, I will follow thee of free-will--the rather that I am not
wholly unskilled in leech-craft, and have in my scrip that which may
do thy friend a service--Yet walk more slowly, I pray thee, for I am
already well-nigh forespent with travel."

With the indignant impatience of the fiery steed when compelled by his
rider to keep pace with some slow drudge upon the highway, Halbert
accompanied the wayfarer, burning with anxiety which he endeavoured to
subdue, that he might not alarm his companion, who was obviously
afraid to trust him. When they reached the place where they were to
turn off the wider glen into the Corri, the traveller made a doubtful
pause, as if unwilling to leave the broader path--"Young man," he
said, "if thou meanest aught but good to these gray hairs, thou wilt
gain little by thy cruelty--I have no earthly treasure to tempt either
robber or murderer."

"And I," said the youth, "am neither--and yet--God of Heaven!--I
_may_ be a murderer, unless your aid comes in time to this
wounded wretch!"

"Is it even so," said the traveller; "and do human passions disturb the
breast of nature, even in her deepest solitude?--Yet why should I marvel
that where darkness abides the works of darkness should abound?--By its
fruits is the tree known--Lead on, unhappy youth--I follow thee!"

And with better will to the journey than he had evinced hitherto, the
stranger exerted himself to the uttermost, and seemed to forget his own
fatigue in his efforts to keep pace with his impatient guide.

What was the surprise of Halbert Glendinning, when, upon arriving at
the fatal spot, he saw no appearance of the body of Sir Piercie
Shafton!  The traces of the fray were otherwise sufficiently visible.
The knight's cloak had indeed vanished as well as his body, but his
doublet remained where he had laid it down, and the turf on which he
had been stretched was stained with blood in many a dark crimson spot.

As he gazed round him in terror and astonishment, Halbert's eyes fell
upon the place of sepulture which had so lately appeared to gape for a
victim. It was no longer open, and it seemed that earth had received
the expected tenant; for the usual narrow hillock was piled over what
had lately been an open grave, and the green sod was adjusted over all
with the accuracy of an experienced sexton. Halbert stood aghast. The
idea rushed on his mind irresistibly, that the earth-heap before him
enclosed what had lately been a living, moving, and sentient
fellow-creature, whom, on little provocation, his fell act had reduced
to a clod of the valley, as senseless and as cold as the turf under
which he rested. The hand that scooped the grave had completed its
word; and whose hand could it be save that of the mysterious being of
doubtful quality, whom his rashness had invoked, and whom he had
suffered to intermingle in his destinies?

As he stood with clasped hands and uplifted eyes, bitterly ruing his
rashness, he was roused by the voice of the stranger, whose suspicions
of his guide had again been awakened by finding the scene so different
from what Halbert had led him to expect.--"Young man," he said, "hast
thou baited thy tongue with falsehood to cut perhaps only a few days
from the life of one whom Nature will soon call home, without guilt on
thy part to hasten his journey?"

"By the blessed Heaven!--by our dear Lady!" ejaculated Halbert--

"Swear not at all!" said the stranger, interrupting him, "neither by
Heaven, for it is God's throne, nor by earth, for it is his
footstool--nor by the creatures whom he hath made, for they are but
earth and clay as we are. Let thy yea be yea, and thy nay, nay. Tell
me in a word, why and for what purpose thou hast feigned a tale, to
lead a bewildered traveller yet farther astray?"

"As I am a Christian man," said Glendinning, "I left him here bleeding
to death--and now I nowhere spy him, and much I doubt that the tomb
that thou seest has closed on his mortal remains."

"And who is he for whose fate thou art so anxious?" said the stranger;
"or how is it possible that this wounded man could have been either
removed from, or interred in, a place so solitary?"

"His name," said Halbert, after a moment's pause, "is Piercie
Shafton--there, on that very spot I left him bleeding; and what power
has conveyed him hence, I know no more than thou dost."

"Piercie Shafton?" said the stranger; "Sir Piercie Shafton of
Wilverton, a kinsman, as it is said, of the great Piercie of
Northumberland? If thou hast slain him, to return to the territories
of the proud Abbot is to give thy neck to the gallows. He is well
known, that Piercie Shafton; the meddling tool of wiser plotters--a
harebrained trafficker in treason--a champion of the Pope, employed as
a forlorn hope by those more politic heads, who have more will to work
mischief, than valour to encounter danger.--Come with me, youth, and
save thyself from the evil consequences of this deed--Guide me to the
Castle of Avenel, and thy reward shall be protection and safety."

Again Halbert paused, and summoned his mind to a hasty council. The
vengeance with which the Abbot was likely to visit the slaughter of
Shafton, his friend, and in some measure his guest, was likely to be
severe; yet, in the various contingencies which he had considered
previous to their duel, he had unaccountably omitted to reflect what
was to be his line of conduct in case of Sir Piercie falling by his
hand. If he returned to Glendearg, he was sure to draw on his whole
family, including Mary Avenel, the resentment of the Abbot and
community, whereas it was possible that flight might make him be
regarded as the sole author of the deed, and might avert the
indignation of the monks from the rest of the inhabitants of his
paternal tower. Halbert recollected also the favour expressed for the
household, and especially for Edward, by the Sub-Prior; and he
conceived that he could, by communicating his own guilt to that worthy
ecclesiastic, when at a distance from Glendearg, secure his powerful
interposition in favour of his family. These thoughts rapidly passed
through his mind, and he determined on flight. The stranger's company
and his promised protection came in aid of that resolution; but he was
unable to reconcile the invitation which the old man gave him to
accompany him for safety to the Castle of Avenel, with the connexions
of Julian, the present usurper of that inheritance.

"Good father," he said, "I fear that you mistake the man with whom you
wish me to harbour. Avenel guided Piercie Shafton into Scotland, and
his henchman, Christie of the Clinthill, brought the Southron hither."

"Of that," said the old man, "I am well aware. Yet if thou wilt trust
to me, as I have shown no reluctance to confide in thee, thou shalt
find with Julian Avenel welcome, or at least safety."

"Father," replied Halbert, "though I can ill reconcile what thou
sayest with what Julian Avenel hath done, yet caring little about the
safety of a creature so lost as myself, and as thy words seem those of
truth and honesty, and finally, as thou didst render thyself frankly
up to my conduct, I will return the confidence thou hast shown, and
accompany thee to the Castle of Avenel by a road which thou thyself
couldst never have discovered." He led the way, and the old man
followed for some time in silence.

       *       *       *       *       *



Chapter the Twenty-Third.


  'Tis when the wound is stiffening with the cold.
  The warrior first feels pain--'tis when the heat
  And fiery fever of his soul is pass'd,
  The sinner feels remorse.
                               OLD PLAY.

The feelings of compunction with which Halbert Glendinning was visited
upon this painful occasion, were deeper than belonged to an age and
country in which human life was held so cheap. They fell far short
certainly of those which might have afflicted a mind regulated by
better religious precepts, and more strictly trained under social
laws; but still they were deep and severely felt, and divided in
Halbert's heart even the regret with which he parted from Mary Avenel
and the tower of his fathers.

The old traveller walked silently by his side for some time, and then
addressed him.--"My son, it has been said that sorrow must speak or
die--Why art thou so much cast down?--Tell me thy unhappy tale, and it
may be that my gray head may devise counsel and aid for your young
life."

"Alas !" said Halbert Glendinning, "can you wonder why I am cast
down?--I am at this instant a fugitive from my father's house, from my
mother, and from my friends, and I bear on my head the blood of a man
who injured me but in idle words, which I have thus bloodily requited.
My heart now tells me I have done evil--it were harder than these
rocks if it could bear unmoved the thought, that I have sent this man
to a long account, unhousled and unshrieved."

"Pause there, my son," said the traveller. "That thou hast defaced
God's image in thy neighbour's person--that thou hast sent dust to
dust in idle wrath or idler pride, is indeed a sin of the deepest
dye--that thou hast cut short the space which Heaven might have
allowed him for repentance, makes it yet more deadly--but for all this
there is balm in Gilead."

"I understand you not, father," said Halbert, struck by the solemn tone
which was assumed by his companion.

The old man proceeded. "Thou hast slain thine enemy--it was a cruel
deed: thou hast cut him off perchance in his sins--it is a fearful
aggravation.  Do yet by my counsel, and in lieu of him whom thou hast
perchance consigned to the kingdom of Satan, let thine efforts wrest
another subject from the reign of the Evil One."

"I understand you, father," said Halbert; "thou wouldst have me atone
for my rashness by doing service to the soul of my adversary--But how
may this be? I have no money to purchase masses, and gladly would I
go barefoot to the Holy Land to free his spirit from purgatory, only
that--"

"My son," said the old man, interrupting him, "the sinner for whose
redemption I entreat you to labour, is not the dead but the living. It
is not for the soul of thine enemy I would exhort thee to pray--that
has already had its final doom from a Judge as merciful as he is just;
nor, wert thou to coin that rock into ducats, and obtain a mass for
each one, would it avail the departed spirit. Where the tree hath
fallen, it must lie.  But the sapling, which hath in it yet the vigour
and juice of life, may be bended to the point to which it ought to
incline."

"Art thou a priest, father?" said the young man, "or by what commission
dost thou talk of such high matters?"

"By that of my Almighty Master," said the traveller, "under whose
banner I am an enlisted soldier."

Halbert's acquaintance with religious matters was no deeper than could
be derived from the Archbishop of Saint Andrew's Catechism, and the
pamphlet called the Twapennie Faith, both which were industriously
circulated and recommended by the monks of Saint Mary's. Yet, however
indifferent and superficial a theologian, he began to suspect that he
was now in company with one of the gospellers, or heretics, before
whose influence the ancient system of religion now tottered to the
very foundation. Bred up, as may well be presumed, in a holy horror
against these formidable sectaries, the youth's first feelings were
those of a loyal and devoted church vassal. "Old man," he said, "wert
thou able to make good with thy hand the words that thy tongue hath
spoken against our Holy Mother Church, we should have tried upon this
moor which of our creeds hath the better champion."

"Nay," said the stranger, "if thou art a true soldier of Rome, thou
wilt not pause from thy purpose because thou hast the odds of years
and of strength on thy side. Hearken to me, my son. I have showed thee
how to make thy peace with Heaven, and thou hast rejected my proffer.
I will now show thee how thou shalt make thy reconciliation with the
powers of this world. Take this gray head from the frail body which
supports it, and carry it to the chair of proud Abbot Boniface; and
when thou tellest him thou hast slain Piercie Shafton, and his ire
rises at the deed, lay the head of Henry Warden at his foot, and thou
shalt have praise instead of censure."

Halbert Glendinning stepped back in surprise. "What! are you that
Henry Warden so famous among the heretics, that even Knox's name is
scarce more frequently in their mouths? Art thou he, and darest thou to
approach the Halidome of Saint Mary's?"

"I am Henry Warden, of a surety," said the old man, "far unworthy to
be named in the same breath with Knox, but yet willing to venture on
whatever dangers my master's service may call me to."

"Hearken to me, then," said Halbert; "to slay thee, I have no
heart--to make thee prisoner, were equally to bring thy blood on my
head--to leave thee in this wild without a guide, were little better.
I will conduct thee, as I promised, in safety to the Castle of Avenel;
but breathe not, while we are on the journey, a word against the
doctrines of the holy church of which I am an unworthy--but though an
ignorant, a zealous member.--When thou art there arrived, beware of
thyself--there is a high price upon thy head, and Julian Avenel loves
the glance of gold bonnet-pieces." [Footnote: A gold coin of James V.,
the most beautiful of the Scottish series; so called because the
effigy of the sovereignty is represented wearing a bonnet.]

"Yet thou sayest not," answered the Protestant preacher, for such he
was, "that for lucre he would sell the blood of his guest?"

"Not if thou comest an invited stranger, relying on his faith," said
the youth; "evil as Julian may be, he dare not break the rites of
hospitality; for, loose as we on these marches may be in all other
ties, these are respected amongst us even to idolatry, and his nearest
relations would think it incumbent on them to spill his blood
themselves, to efface the disgrace such treason would bring upon their
name and lineage. But if thou goest self-invited, and without
assurance of safety, I promise thee thy risk is great."

"I am in God's hand," answered the preacher; "it is on His errand that
I traverse these wilds amidst dangers of every kind; while I am useful
for my master's service, they shall not prevail against me, and when,
like the barren fig-tree, I can no longer produce fruit, what imports
it when or by whom the axe is laid to the root?"

"Your courage and devotion," said Glendinning, "are worthy of a better
cause."

"That," said Warden, "cannot be--mine is the very best."

They continued their journey in silence, Halbert Glendinning tracing
with the utmost accuracy the mazes of the dangerous and intricate
morasses and hills which divided the Halidome from the barony of
Avenel. From time to time he was obliged to stop, in order to assist
his companion to cross the black intervals of quaking bog, called in
the Scottish dialect _hags_, by which the firmer parts of the
morass were intersected.

"Courage, old man," said Halbert, as he saw his companion almost
exhausted with fatigue, "we shall soon be upon hard ground. And yet
soft as this moss is, I have seen the merry falconers go through it as
light as deer when the quarry was upon the flight."

"True, my son," answered Warden, "for so I will still call you, though
you term me no longer father; and even so doth headlong youth pursue its
pleasures, without regard to the mire and the peril of the paths through
which they are hurried."

"I have already told thee," answered Halbert Glendinning, sternly, "that
I will hear nothing from thee that savours of doctrine."

"Nay, but, my son," answered Warden, "thy spiritual father himself
would surely not dispute the truth of what I have now spoken for your
edification!"

Glendinning stoutly replied, "I know not how that may be--but I wot
well it is the fashion of your brotherhood to bait your hook with fair
discourse, and to hold yourselves up as angels of light, that you may
the better extend the kingdom of darkness."

"May God," replied the preacher, "pardon those who have thus reported
of his servants! I will not offend thee, my son, by being instant out of
season--thou speakest but as thou art taught--yet sure I trust that so
goodly a youth will be still rescued, like a brand from the burning."

While he thus spoke, the verge of the morass was attained, and their
path lay on the declivity. Green-sward it was, and, viewed from a
distance, chequered with its narrow and verdant line the dark-brown
heath which it traversed, though the distinction was not so easily
traced when they were walking on it.  [Footnote: This sort of path,
visible when looked at from a distance, but not to be seen when you
are upon it, is called on the Border by the significant name of a
Blind-road.] The old man pursued his journey with comparative ease;
and, unwilling again to awaken the jealous zeal of his young companion
for the Roman faith, he discoursed on other matters. The tone of his
conversation was still grave, moral, and instructive. He had travelled
much, and knew both the language and manners of other countries,
concerning which Halbert Glendinning, already anticipating the
possibility of being obliged to leave Scotland for the deed he had
done, was naturally and anxiously desirous of information. By degrees
he was more attracted by the charms of the stranger's conversation
than repelled by the dread of his dangerous character as a heretic,
and Halbert had called him father more than once, ere the turrets of
Avenel Castle came in view.

The situation of this ancient fortress was remarkable. It occupied a
small rocky islet in a mountain lake, or _tarn,_ as such a piece
of water is called in Westmoreland. The lake might be about a mile in
circumference, surrounded by hills of considerable height, which,
except where old trees and brushwood occupied the ravines that divided
them from each other, were bare and heathy. The surprise of the
spectator was chiefly excited by finding a piece of water situated in
that high and mountainous region, and the landscape around had
features which might rather be termed wild, than either romantic or
sublime; yet the scene was not without its charms.  Under the burning
sun of summer, the clear azure of the deep unruffled lake refreshed
the eye, and impressed the mind with a pleasing feeling of deep
solitude. In winter, when the snow lay on the mountains around, these
dazzling masses appeared to ascend far beyond their wonted and natural
height, while the lake, which stretched beneath, and filled their
bosom with all its frozen waves, lay like the surface of a darkened
and broken mirror around the black and rocky islet, and the walls of
the gray castle with which it was crowned.

As the castle occupied, either with its principal buildings, or with
its flanking and outward walls, every projecting point of rock, which
served as its site, it seemed as completely surrounded by water as the
nest of a wild swan, save where a narrow causeway extended betwixt the
islet and the shore. But the fortress was larger in appearance than in
reality; and of the buildings which it actually contained, many had
become ruinous and uninhabitable. In the times of the grandeur of the
Avenel family, these had been occupied by a considerable garrison of
followers and retainers, but they were now in a great measure
deserted; and Julian Avenel would probably have fixed his habitation
in a residence better suited to his diminished fortunes, had it not
been for the great security which the situation of the old castle
afforded to a man of his precarious and perilous mode of life. Indeed,
in this respect, the spot could scarce have been more happily chosen,
for it could be rendered almost completely inaccessible at the
pleasure of the inhabitant. The distance betwixt the nearest shore and
the islet was not indeed above an hundred yards; but then the causeway
which connected them was extremely narrow, and completely divided by
two cuts, one in the mid-way between the islet and shore, and another
close under the outward gate of the castle. These formed a formidable,
and almost insurmountable interruption to any hostile approach. Each
was defended by a drawbridge, one of which, being that nearest to the
castle, was regularly raised at all times during the day, and both
were lifted at night. [Footnote: It is in vain to search near Melrose
for any such castle as is here described. The lakes at the head of the
Yarrow, and those at the rise of the water of Ale, present no object
of the kind. But in Vetholm Loch, (a romantic sheet of water, in the
dry march, as it is called,) there are the remains of a fortress
called Lochside Tower, which, like the supposed Castle of Avenel, is
built upon an island, and connected with the land by a causeway. It is
much smaller than the Castle of Avenel is described, consisting only
of a single *inous tower.]

The situation of Julian Avenel, engaged in a variety of feuds, and a
party to almost every dark and mysterious transaction which was on
foot in that wild and military frontier, required all these
precautions for his security. His own ambiguous and doubtful course of
policy had increased these dangers; for as he made professions to both
parties in the state, and occasionally united more actively with
either the one or the other, as chanced best to serve his immediate
purpose, he could not be said to have either firm allies and
protectors, or determined enemies. His life was a life of expedients
and of peril; and while, in pursuit of his interest, he made all the
doubles which he thought necessary to attain his object, he often
overran his prey, and missed that which he might have gained by
observing a straighter course.