"But is it even thus, Mr Morton?" said Miss Bellenden. "Have you, who
used to mix so little in these unhappy feuds, become so suddenly and
deeply implicated, that nothing short of"--

She paused, unable to bring out the word which should have come next.

"Nothing short of my life, you would say?" replied Morton, in a calm, but
melancholy tone; "I believe that will be entirely in the bosoms of my
judges. My guards spoke of a possibility of exchanging the penalty for
entry into foreign service. I thought I could have embraced the
alternative; and yet, Miss Bellenden, since I have seen you once more, I
feel that exile would be more galling than death."

"And is it then true," said Edith, "that you have been so desperately
rash as to entertain communication with any of those cruel wretches who
assassinated the primate?"

"I knew not even that such a crime had been committed," replied Morton,
"when I gave unhappily a night's lodging and concealment to one of those
rash and cruel men, the ancient friend and comrade of my father. But my
ignorance will avail me little; for who, Miss Bellenden, save you, will
believe it? And, what is worse, I am at least uncertain whether, even if
I had known the crime, I could have brought my mind, under all the
circumstances, to refuse a temporary refuge to the fugitive."

"And by whom," said Edith, anxiously, "or under what authority, will the
investigation of your conduct take place?"

"Under that of Colonel Grahame of Claverhouse, I am given to understand,"
said Morton; "one of the military commission, to whom it has pleased our
king, our privy council, and our parliament, that used to be more
tenacious of our liberties, to commit the sole charge of our goods and of
our lives."

"To Claverhouse?" said Edith, faintly; "merciful Heaven, you are lost ere
you are tried! He wrote to my grandmother that he was to be here
to-morrow morning, on his road to the head of the county, where some
desperate men, animated by the presence of two or three of the actors in
the primate's murder, are said to have assembled for the purpose of
making a stand against the government. His expressions made me shudder,
even when I could not guess that--that--a friend"--

"Do not be too much alarmed on my account, my dearest Edith," said Henry,
as he supported her in his arms; "Claverhouse, though stern and
relentless, is, by all accounts, brave, fair, and honourable. I am a
soldier's son, and will plead my cause like a soldier. He will perhaps
listen more favourably to a blunt and unvarnished defence than a
truckling and time-serving judge might do. And, indeed, in a time when
justice is, in all its branches, so completely corrupted, I would rather
lose my life by open military violence, than be conjured out of it by the
hocus-pocus of some arbitrary lawyer, who lends the knowledge he has of
the statutes made for our protection, to wrest them to our destruction."

"You are lost--you are lost, if you are to plead your cause with
Claverhouse!" sighed Edith; "root and branchwork is the mildest of his
expressions. The unhappy primate was his intimate friend and early
patron. 'No excuse, no subterfuge,' said his letter, 'shall save either
those connected with the deed, or such as have given them countenance and
shelter, from the ample and bitter penalty of the law, until I shall have
taken as many lives in vengeance of this atrocious murder, as the old man
had grey hairs upon his venerable head.' There is neither ruth nor favour
to be found with him."

Jenny Dennison, who had hitherto remained silent, now ventured, in the
extremity of distress which the lovers felt, but for which they were
unable to devise a remedy, to offer her own advice.

"Wi' your leddyship's pardon, Miss Edith, and young Mr Morton's, we
maunna waste time. Let Milnwood take my plaid and gown; I'll slip them
aff in the dark corner, if he'll promise no to look about, and he may
walk past Tam Halliday, who is half blind with his ale, and I can tell
him a canny way to get out o' the Tower, and your leddyship will gang
quietly to your ain room, and I'll row mysell in his grey cloak, and pit
on his hat, and play the prisoner till the coast's clear, and then I'll
cry in Tam Halliday, and gar him let me out."

"Let you out?" said Morton; "they'll make your life answer it."

"Ne'er a bit," replied Jenny; "Tam daurna tell he let ony body in, for
his ain sake; and I'll gar him find some other gate to account for the
escape."

"Will you, by G--?" said the sentinel, suddenly opening the door of the
apartment; "if I am half blind, I am not deaf, and you should not plan an
escape quite so loud, if you expect to go through with it. Come, come,
Mrs Janet--march, troop--quick time--trot, d--n me!--And you, madam
kinswoman,--I won't ask your real name, though you were going to play me
so rascally a trick,--but I must make a clear garrison; so beat a
retreat, unless you would have me turn out the guard."

"I hope," said Morton, very anxiously, "you will not mention this
circumstance, my good friend, and trust to my honour to acknowledge your
civility in keeping the secret. If you overheard our conversation, you
must have observed that we did not accept of, or enter into, the hasty
proposal made by this good-natured girl."

"Oh, devilish good-natured, to be sure," said Halliday. "As for the rest,
I guess how it is, and I scorn to bear malice, or tell tales, as much as
another; but no thanks to that little jilting devil, Jenny Dennison, who
deserves a tight skelping for trying to lead an honest lad into a scrape,
just because he was so silly as to like her good-for-little chit face."

Jenny had no better means of justification than the last apology to which
her sex trust, and usually not in vain; she pressed her handkerchief to
her face, sobbed with great vehemence, and either wept, or managed, as
Halliday might have said, to go through the motions wonderfully well.

"And now," continued the soldier, somewhat mollified, "if you have any
thing to say, say it in two minutes, and let me see your backs turned;
for if Bothwell take it into his drunken head to make the rounds half an
hour too soon, it will be a black business to us all."

"Farewell, Edith," whispered Morton, assuming a firmness he was far from
possessing; "do not remain here--leave me to my fate--it cannot be beyond
endurance since you are interested in it.--Good night, good night!--Do
not remain here till you are discovered."

Thus saying, he resigned her to her attendant, by whom she was quietly
led and partly supported out of the apartment.

"Every one has his taste, to be sure," said Halliday; "but d--n me if I
would have vexed so sweet a girl as that is, for all the whigs that ever
swore the Covenant."

When Edith had regained her apartment, she gave way to a burst of grief
which alarmed Jenny Dennison, who hastened to administer such scraps of
consolation as occurred to her.

"Dinna vex yoursell sae muckle, Miss Edith," said that faithful
attendant; "wha kens what may happen to help young Milnwood? He's a brave
lad, and a bonny, and a gentleman of a good fortune, and they winna
string the like o' him up as they do the puir whig bodies that they catch
in the muirs, like straps o' onions; maybe his uncle will bring him aff,
or maybe your ain grand-uncle will speak a gude word for him--he's weel
acquent wi' a' the red-coat gentlemen."

"You are right, Jenny! you are right," said Edith, recovering herself
from the stupor into which she had sunk; "this is no time for despair,
but for exertion. You must find some one to ride this very night to my
uncle's with a letter."

"To Charnwood, madam? It's unco late, and it's sax miles an' a bittock
doun the water; I doubt if we can find man and horse the night, mair
especially as they hae mounted a sentinel before the gate. Puir Cuddie!
he's gane, puir fallow, that wad hae dune aught in the warld I bade him,
and ne'er asked a reason--an' I've had nae time to draw up wi' the new
pleugh-lad yet; forby that, they say he's gaun to be married to Meg
Murdieson, illfaur'd cuttie as she is."

"You must find some one to go, Jenny; life and death depend upon it."

"I wad gang mysell, my leddy, for I could creep out at the window o' the
pantry, and speel down by the auld yew-tree weel eneugh--I hae played
that trick ere now. But the road's unco wild, and sae mony red-coats
about, forby the whigs, that are no muckle better (the young lads o'
them) if they meet a fraim body their lane in the muirs. I wadna stand
for the walk--I can walk ten miles by moonlight weel eneugh."

"Is there no one you can think of, that, for money or favour, would serve
me so far?" asked Edith, in great anxiety.

"I dinna ken," said Jenny, after a moment's consideration, "unless it be
Guse Gibbie; and he'll maybe no ken the way, though it's no sae difficult
to hit, if he keep the horse-road, and mind the turn at the Cappercleugh,
and dinna drown himsell in the Whomlekirn-pule, or fa' ower the scaur at
the Deil's Loaning, or miss ony o' the kittle steps at the Pass o'
Walkwary, or be carried to the hills by the whigs, or be taen to the
tolbooth by the red-coats."

"All ventures must be run," said Edith, cutting short the list of chances
against Goose Gibbie's safe arrival at the end of his pilgrimage; "all
risks must be run, unless you can find a better messenger.--Go, bid the
boy get ready, and get him out of the Tower as secretly as you can. If he
meets any one, let him say he is carrying a letter to Major Bellenden of
Charnwood, but without mentioning any names."

"I understand, madam," said Jenny Dennison; "I warrant the callant will
do weel eneugh, and Tib the hen-wife will tak care o' the geese for a
word o' my mouth; and I'll tell Gibbie your leddyship will mak his peace
wi' Lady Margaret, and we'll gie him a dollar."

"Two, if he does his errand well," said Edith.

Jenny departed to rouse Goose Gibbie out of his slumbers, to which he was
usually consigned at sundown, or shortly after, he keeping the hours of
the birds under his charge. During her absence, Edith took her writing
materials, and prepared against her return the following letter,
superscribed, For the hands of Major Bellenden of Charnwood, my much
honoured uncle, These: "My dear Uncle--This will serve to inform you I am
desirous to know how your gout is, as we did not see you at the
wappen-schaw, which made both my grandmother and myself very uneasy. And
if it will permit you to travel, we shall be happy to see you at our poor
house to-morrow at the hour of breakfast, as Colonel Grahame of
Claverhouse is to pass this way on his march, and we would willingly have
your assistance to receive and entertain a military man of such
distinction, who, probably, will not be much delighted with the company
of women. Also, my dear uncle, I pray you to let Mrs Carefor't, your
housekeeper, send me my double-trimmed paduasoy with the hanging sleeves,
which she will find in the third drawer of the walnut press in the green
room, which you are so kind as to call mine. Also, my dear uncle, I pray
you to send me the second volume of the Grand Cyrus, as I have only read
as far as the imprisonment of Philidaspes upon the seven hundredth and
thirty-third page; but, above all, I entreat you to come to us to-morrow
before eight of the clock, which, as your pacing nag is so good, you may
well do without rising before your usual hour. So, praying to God to
preserve your health, I rest your dutiful and loving niece,

"Edith Bellenden.

"Postscriptum. A party of soldiers have last night brought your friend,
young Mr Henry Morton of Milnwood, hither as a prisoner. I conclude you
will be sorry for the young gentleman, and, therefore, let you know this,
in case you may think of speaking to Colonel Grahame in his behalf. I
have not mentioned his name to my grandmother, knowing her prejudice
against the family."

This epistle being duly sealed and delivered to Jenny, that faithful
confidant hastened to put the same in the charge of Goose Gibbie, whom
she found in readiness to start from the castle. She then gave him
various instructions touching the road, which she apprehended he was
likely to mistake, not having travelled it above five or six times, and
possessing only the same slender proportion of memory as of judgment.
Lastly, she smuggled him out of the garrison through the pantry window
into the branchy yew-tree which grew close beside it, and had the
satisfaction to see him reach the bottom in safety, and take the right
turn at the commencement of his journey. She then returned to persuade
her young mistress to go to bed, and to lull her to rest, if possible,
with assurances of Gibbie's success in his embassy, only qualified by a
passing regret that the trusty Cuddie, with whom the commission might
have been more safely reposed, was no longer within reach of serving her.

More fortunate as a messenger than as a cavalier, it was Gibbie's good
hap rather than his good management, which, after he had gone astray not
oftener than nine times, and given his garments a taste of the variation
of each bog, brook, and slough, between Tillietudlem and Charnwood,
placed him about daybreak before the gate of Major Bellenden's mansion,
having completed a walk of ten miles (for the bittock, as usual, amounted
to four) in little more than the same number of hours.





CHAPTER XI.

               At last comes the troop, by the word of command
               Drawn up in our court, where the Captain cries,
               Stand!
                                             Swift

Major Bellenden's ancient valet, Gideon Pike as he adjusted his master's
clothes by his bedside, preparatory to the worthy veteran's toilet,
acquainted him, as an apology for disturbing him an hour earlier than his
usual time of rising, that there was an express from Tillietudlem.

"From Tillietudlem?" said the old gentleman, rising hastily in his bed,
and sitting bolt upright,--"Open the shutters, Pike--I hope my
sister-in-law is well--furl up the bed-curtain.--What have we all here?"
(glancing at Edith's note.) "The gout? why, she knows I have not had a
fit since Candlemas.--The wappen-schaw? I told her a month since I was
not to be there.--Paduasoy and hanging sleeves? why, hang the gipsy
herself!--Grand Cyrus and Philipdastus?--Philip Devil!--is the wench gone
crazy all at once? was it worth while to send an express and wake me
at five in the morning for all this trash?--But what says her
postscriptum?--Mercy on us!" he exclaimed on perusing it,--"Pike, saddle
old Kilsythe instantly, and another horse for yourself."

"I hope nae ill news frae the Tower, sir?" said Pike, astonished at his
master's sudden emotion.

"Yes--no--yes--that is, I must meet Claverhouse there on some express
business; so boot and saddle, Pike, as fast as you can.--O, Lord! what
times are these!--the poor lad--my old cronie's son!--and the silly wench
sticks it into her postscriptum, as she calls it, at the tail of all this
trumpery about old gowns and new romances!"

In a few minutes the good old officer was fully equipped; and having
mounted upon his arm-gaunt charger as soberly as Mark Antony himself
could have done, he paced forth his way to the Tower of Tillietudlem.

On the road he formed the prudent resolution to say nothing to the old
lady (whose dislike to presbyterians of all kinds he knew to be
inveterate) of the quality and rank of the prisoner detained within her
walls, but to try his own influence with Claverhouse to obtain Morton's
liberation.

"Being so loyal as he is, he must do something for so old a cavalier as I
am," said the veteran to himself; "and if he is so good a soldier as the
world speaks of, why, he will be glad to serve an old soldier's son. I
never knew a real soldier that was not a frank-hearted, honest fellow;
and I think the execution of the laws (though it's a pity they find it
necessary to make them so severe) may be a thousand times better
intrusted with them than with peddling lawyers and thick-skulled country
gentlemen."

Such were the ruminations of Major Miles Bellenden, which were terminated
by John Gudyill (not more than half-drunk) taking hold of his bridle, and
assisting him to dismount in the roughpaved court of Tillietudlem.

"Why, John," said the veteran, "what devil of a discipline is this you
have been keeping? You have been reading Geneva print this morning
already."

"I have been reading the Litany," said John, shaking his head with a look
of drunken gravity, and having only caught one word of the Major's
address to him; "life is short, sir; we are flowers of the field,
sir--hiccup--and lilies of the valley."

"Flowers and lilies? Why, man, such carles as thou and I can hardly be
called better than old hemlocks, decayed nettles, or withered rag-weed;
but I suppose you think that we are still worth watering."

"I am an old soldier, sir, I thank Heaven--hiccup"--

"An old skinker, you mean, John. But come, never mind, show me the way to
your mistress, old lad."

John Gudyill led the way to the stone hall, where Lady Margaret was
fidgeting about, superintending, arranging, and re-forming the
preparations made for the reception of the celebrated Claverhouse, whom
one party honoured and extolled as a hero, and another execrated as a
bloodthirsty oppressor.

"Did I not tell you," said Lady Margaret to her principal female
attendant--"did I not tell you, Mysie, that it was my especial pleasure
on this occasion to have every thing in the precise order wherein it was
upon that famous morning when his most sacred majesty partook of his
disjune at Tillietudlem?"

"Doubtless, such were your leddyship's commands, and to the best of my
remembrance"--was Mysie answering, when her ladyship broke in with, "Then
wherefore is the venison pasty placed on the left side of the throne, and
the stoup of claret upon the right, when ye may right weel remember,
Mysie, that his most sacred majesty with his ain hand shifted the pasty
to the same side with the flagon, and said they were too good friends to
be parted?"

"I mind that weel, madam," said Mysie; "and if I had forgot, I have heard
your leddyship often speak about that grand morning sin' syne; but I
thought every thing was to be placed just as it was when his majesty, God
bless him, came into this room, looking mair like an angel than a man, if
he hadna been sae black-a-vised."

"Then ye thought nonsense, Mysie; for in whatever way his most sacred
majesty ordered the position of the trenchers and flagons, that, as weel
as his royal pleasure in greater matters, should be a law to his
subjects, and shall ever be to those of the house of Tillietudlem."

"Weel, madam," said Mysie, making the alterations required, "it's easy
mending the error; but if every thing is just to be as his majesty left
it, there should be an unco hole in the venison pasty."

At this moment the door opened.

"Who is that, John Gudyill?" exclaimed the old lady. "I can speak to no
one just now.--Is it you, my dear brother?" she continued, in some
surprise, as the Major entered; "this is a right early visit."

"Not more early than welcome, I hope," replied Major Bellenden, as he
saluted the widow of his deceased brother; "but I heard by a note which
Edith sent to Charnwood about some of her equipage and books, that you
were to have Claver'se here this morning, so I thought, like an old
firelock as I am, that I should like to have a chat with this rising
soldier. I caused Pike saddle Kilsythe, and here we both are."

"And most kindly welcome you are," said the old lady; "it is just what I
should have prayed you to do, if I had thought there was time. You see I
am busy in preparation. All is to be in the same order as when"--"The
king breakfasted at Tillietudlem," said the Major, who, like all Lady
Margaret's friends, dreaded the commencement of that narrative, and was
desirous to cut it short,--"I remember it well; you know I was waiting on
his majesty."

"You were, brother," said Lady Margaret; "and perhaps you can help me to
remember the order of the entertainment."

"Nay, good sooth," said the Major, "the damnable dinner that Noll gave us
at Worcester a few days afterwards drove all your good cheer out of my
memory.--But how's this?--you have even the great Turkey-leather
elbow-chair, with the tapestry cushions, placed in state."

"The throne, brother, if you please," said Lady Margaret, gravely.

"Well, the throne be it, then," continued the Major. "Is that to be
Claver'se's post in the attack upon the pasty?"

"No, brother," said the lady; "as these cushions have been once honoured
by accommodating the person of our most sacred Monarch, they shall never,
please Heaven, during my life-time, be pressed by any less dignified
weight."

"You should not then," said the old soldier, "put them in the way of an
honest old cavalier, who has ridden ten miles before breakfast; for, to
confess the truth, they look very inviting. But where is Edith?"

"On the battlements of the warder's turret," answered the old lady,
"looking out for the approach of our guests."

"Why, I'll go there too; and so should you, Lady Margaret, as soon as you
have your line of battle properly formed in the hall here. It's a pretty
thing, I can tell you, to see a regiment of horse upon the march."

Thus speaking, he offered his arm with an air of old-fashioned gallantry,
which Lady Margaret accepted with such a courtesy of acknowledgment as
ladies were wont to make in Holyroodhouse before the year 1642, which,
for one while, drove both courtesies and courts out of fashion.

Upon the bartizan of the turret, to which they ascended by many a winding
passage and uncouth staircase, they found Edith, not in the attitude of a
young lady who watches with fluttering curiosity the approach of a smart
regiment of dragoons, but pale, downcast, and evincing, by her
countenance, that sleep had not, during the preceding night, been the
companion of her pillow. The good old veteran was hurt at her appearance,
which, in the hurry of preparation, her grandmother had omitted to
notice.

"What is come over you, you silly girl?" he said; "why, you look like an
officer's wife when she opens the News-letter after an action, and
expects to find her husband among the killed and wounded. But I know the
reason--you will persist in reading these nonsensical romances, day and
night, and whimpering for distresses that never existed. Why, how the
devil can you believe that Artamines, or what d'ye call him, fought
singlehanded with a whole battalion? One to three is as great odds as
ever fought and won, and I never knew any body that cared to take that,
except old Corporal Raddlebanes. But these d--d books put all pretty
men's actions out of countenance. I daresay you would think very little
of Raddlebanes, if he were alongside of Artamines.--I would have the
fellows that write such nonsense brought to the picquet for
leasing-making."

     [Note:  Romances of the Seventeenth Century. As few, in the present
     age, are acquainted with the ponderous folios to which the age of
     Louis XIV. gave rise, we need only say, that they combine the
     dulness of the metaphysical courtship with all the improbabilities
     of the ancient Romance of Chivalry. Their character will be most
     easily learned from Boileau's Dramatic Satire, or Mrs Lennox's
     Female Quixote.]

Lady Margaret, herself somewhat attached to the perusal of romances, took
up the cudgels. "Monsieur Scuderi," she said, "is a soldier, brother;
and, as I have heard, a complete one, and so is the Sieur d'Urfe."

"More shame for them; they should have known better what they were
writing about. For my part, I have not read a book these twenty years
except my Bible, The Whole Duty of Man, and, of late days, Turner's
Pallas Armata, or Treatise on the Ordering of the Pike Exercise, and I
don't like his discipline much neither.

     [Note:  Sir James Turner. Sir James Turner was a soldier of fortune,
     bred in the civil wars. He was intrusted with a commission to levy
     the fines imposed by the Privy Council for non-conformity, in the
     district of Dumfries and Galloway. In this capacity he vexed the
     country so much by his exactions, that the people rose and made him
     prisoner, and then proceeded in arms towards Mid-Lothian, where they
     were defeated at Pentland Hills, in 1666. Besides his treatise on
     the Military Art, Sir James Turner wrote several other works; the
     most curious of which is his Memoirs of his own Life and Times,
     which has just been printed, under the charge of the Bannatyne
     Club.]

He wants to draw up the cavalry in front of a stand of pikes, instead of
being upon the wings. Sure am I, if we had done so at Kilsythe, instead
of having our handful of horse on the flanks, the first discharge would
have sent them back among our Highlanders.--But I hear the kettle-drums."

All heads were now bent from the battlements of the turret, which
commanded a distant prospect down the vale of the river. The Tower of
Tillietudlem stood, or perhaps yet stands, upon the angle of a very
precipitous bank, formed by the junction of a considerable brook with the
Clyde.

     [Note: The Castle of Tillietudlem is imaginary; but the ruins of
     Craignethan Castle, situated on the Nethan, about three miles from
     its junction with the Clyde, have something of the character of the
     description in the text].

There was a narrow bridge of one steep arch, across the brook near its
mouth, over which, and along the foot of the high and broken bank, winded
the public road; and the fortalice, thus commanding both bridge and pass,
had been, in times of war, a post of considerable importance, the
possession of which was necessary to secure the communication of the
upper and wilder districts of the country with those beneath, where the
valley expands, and is more capable of cultivation. The view downwards is
of a grand woodland character; but the level ground and gentle slopes
near the river form cultivated fields of an irregular shape, interspersed
with hedgerow-trees and copses, the enclosures seeming to have been
individually cleared out of the forest which surrounds them, and which
occupies, in unbroken masses, the steeper declivities and more distant
banks. The stream, in colour a clear and sparkling brown, like the hue of
the Cairngorm pebbles, rushes through this romantic region in bold sweeps
and curves, partly visible and partly concealed by the trees which clothe
its banks. With a providence unknown in other parts of Scotland, the
peasants have, in most places, planted orchards around their cottages,
and the general blossom of the appletrees at this season of the year gave
all the lower part of the view the appearance of a flower-garden.

Looking up the river, the character of the scene was varied considerably
for the worse. A hilly, waste, and uncultivated country approached close
to the banks; the trees were few, and limited to the neighbourhood of the
stream, and the rude moors swelled at a little distance into shapeless
and heavy hills, which were again surmounted in their turn by a range of
lofty mountains, dimly seen on the horizon. Thus the tower commanded two
prospects, the one richly cultivated and highly adorned, the other
exhibiting the monotonous and dreary character of a wild and inhospitable
moorland.

The eyes of the spectators on the present occasion were attracted to the
downward view, not alone by its superior beauty, but because the distant
sounds of military music began to be heard from the public high-road
which winded up the vale, and announced the approach of the expected body
of cavalry. Their glimmering ranks were shortly afterwards seen in the
distance, appearing and disappearing as the trees and the windings of the
road permitted them to be visible, and distinguished chiefly by the
flashes of light which their arms occasionally reflected against the sun.
The train was long and imposing, for there were about two hundred and
fifty horse upon the march, and the glancing of the swords and waving of
their banners, joined to the clang of their trumpets and kettle-drums,
had at once a lively and awful effect upon the imagination. As they
advanced still nearer and nearer, they could distinctly see the files of
those chosen troops following each other in long succession, completely
equipped and superbly mounted.

"It's a sight that makes me thirty years younger," said the old cavalier;
"and yet I do not much like the service that these poor fellows are to be
engaged in. Although I had my share of the civil war, I cannot say I had
ever so much real pleasure in that sort of service as when I was employed
on the Continent, and we were hacking at fellows with foreign faces and
outlandish dialect. It's a hard thing to hear a hamely Scotch tongue cry
quarter, and be obliged to cut him down just the same as if he called out
_misricorde_.--So, there they come through the Netherwood haugh; upon my
word, fine-looking fellows, and capitally mounted.--He that is gallopping
from the rear of the column must be Claver'se himself;--ay, he gets into
the front as they cross the bridge, and now they will be with us in less
than five minutes."


[Illustration: Edith on the Battlements--frontispiece]


At the bridge beneath the tower the cavalry divided, and the greater
part, moving up the left bank of the brook and crossing at a ford a
little above, took the road of the Grange, as it was called, a large set
of farm-offices belonging to the Tower, where Lady Margaret had ordered
preparation to be made for their reception and suitable entertainment.
The officers alone, with their colours and an escort to guard them, were
seen to take the steep road up to the gate of the Tower, appearing by
intervals as they gained the ascent, and again hidden by projections of
the bank and of the huge old trees with which it is covered. When they
emerged from this narrow path, they found themselves in front of the old
Tower, the gates of which were hospitably open for their reception. Lady
Margaret, with Edith and her brother-in-law, having hastily descended
from their post of observation, appeared to meet and to welcome their
guests, with a retinue of domestics in as good order as the orgies of the
preceding evening permitted. The gallant young cornet (a relation as well
as namesake of Claverhouse, with whom the reader has been already made
acquainted) lowered the standard amid the fanfare of the trumpets, in
homage to the rank of Lady Margaret and the charms of her grand-daughter,
and the old walls echoed to the flourish of the instruments, and the
stamp and neigh of the chargers.

     [Note:  John Grahame of Claverhouse. This remarkable person united
     the seemingly inconsistent qualities of courage and cruelty, a
     disinterested and devoted loyalty to his prince, with a disregard of
     the rights of his fellow-subjects. He was the unscrupulous agent of
     the Scottish Privy Council in executing the merciless severities of
     the government in Scotland during the reigns of Charles II. and
     James II.; but he redeemed his character by the zeal with which he
     asserted the cause of the latter monarch after the Revolution, the
     military skill with which he supported it at the battle of
     Killiecrankie, and by his own death in the arms of victory.

     It is said by tradition, that he was very desirous to see, and be
     introduced to, a certain Lady Elphinstoun, who had reached the
     advanced age of one hundred years and upwards. The noble matron,
     being a stanch whig, was rather unwilling to receive Claver'se, (as
     he was called from his title,) but at length consented. After the
     usual compliments, the officer observed to the lady, that having
     lived so much beyond the usual term of humanity, she must in her
     time have seen many strange changes. "Hout na, sir," said Lady
     Elphinstoun, "the world is just to end with me as it began. When I
     was entering life, there was ane Knox deaving us a' wi' his clavers,
     and now I am ganging out, there is ane Claver'se deaving us a' wi'
     his knocks."

     Clavers signifying, in common parlance, idle chat, the double pun
     does credit to the ingenuity of a lady of a hundred years old.]

Claverhouse himself alighted from a black horse, the most beautiful
perhaps in Scotland. He had not a single white hair upon his whole body,
a circumstance which, joined to his spirit and fleetness, and to his
being so frequently employed in pursuit of the presbyterian recusants,
caused an opinion to prevail among them, that the steed had been
presented to his rider by the great Enemy of Mankind, in order to assist
him in persecuting the fugitive wanderers. When Claverhouse had paid his
respects to the ladies with military politeness, had apologized for the
trouble to which he was putting Lady Margaret's family, and had received
the corresponding assurances that she could not think any thing an
inconvenience which brought within the walls of Tillietudlem so
distinguished a soldier, and so loyal a servant of his sacred majesty;
when, in short, all forms of hospitable and polite ritual had been duly
complied with, the Colonel requested permission to receive the report of
Bothwell, who was now in attendance, and with whom he spoke apart for a
few minutes. Major Bellenden took that opportunity to say to his niece,
without the hearing of her grandmother, "What a trifling foolish girl you
are, Edith, to send me by express a letter crammed with nonsense about
books and gowns, and to slide the only thing I cared a marvedie about
into the postscript!"

"I did not know," said Edith, hesitating very much, "whether it would be
quite--quite proper for me to"--"I know what you would say--whether it
would be right to take any interest in a presbyterian. But I knew this
lad's father well. He was a brave soldier; and, if he was once wrong, he
was once right too. I must commend your caution, Edith, for having said
nothing of this young gentleman's affair to your grandmother--you may
rely on it I shall not--I will take an opportunity to speak to Claver'se.
Come, my love, they are going to breakfast. Let us follow them."





CHAPTER XII.

               Their breakfast so warm to be sure they did eat,
               A custom in travellers mighty discreet.
                                                  Prior.

The breakfast of Lady Margaret Bellenden no more resembled a modern
_dejune_, than the great stone-hall at Tillietudlem could brook
comparison with a modern drawing-room. No tea, no coffee, no variety of
rolls, but solid and substantial viands,--the priestly ham, the knightly
sirloin, the noble baron of beef, the princely venison pasty; while
silver flagons, saved with difficulty from the claws of the Covenanters,
now mantled, some with ale, some with mead, and some with generous wine
of various qualities and descriptions. The appetites of the guests were
in correspondence to the magnificence and solidity of the preparation--no
piddling--no boy's-play, but that steady and persevering exercise of the
jaws which is best learned by early morning hours, and by occasional hard
commons.

Lady Margaret beheld with delight the cates which she had provided
descending with such alacrity into the persons of her honoured guests,
and had little occasion to exercise, with respect to any of the company
saving Claverhouse himself, the compulsory urgency of pressing to eat, to
which, as to the peine forte et dure, the ladies of that period were in
the custom of subjecting their guests.

But the leader himself, more anxious to pay courtesy to Miss Bellenden,
next whom he was placed, than to gratify his appetite, appeared somewhat
negligent of the good cheer set before him. Edith heard, without reply,
many courtly speeches addressed to her, in a tone of voice of that happy
modulation which could alike melt in the low tones of interesting
conversation, and rise amid the din of battle, "loud as a trumpet with a
silver sound." The sense that she was in the presence of the dreadful
chief upon whose fiat the fate of Henry Morton must depend--the
recollection of the terror and awe which were attached to the very name
of the commander, deprived her for some time, not only of the courage to
answer, but even of the power of looking upon him. But when, emboldened
by the soothing tones of his voice, she lifted her eyes to frame some
reply, the person on whom she looked bore, in his appearance at least,
none of the terrible attributes in which her apprehensions had arrayed
him.

Grahame of Claverhouse was in the prime of life, rather low of stature,
and slightly, though elegantly, formed; his gesture, language, and
manners, were those of one whose life had been spent among the noble and
the gay. His features exhibited even feminine regularity. An oval face, a
straight and well-formed nose, dark hazel eyes, a complexion just
sufficiently tinged with brown to save it from the charge of effeminacy,
a short upper lip, curved upward like that of a Grecian statue, and
slightly shaded by small mustachios of light brown, joined to a profusion
of long curled locks of the same colour, which fell down on each side of
his face, contributed to form such a countenance as limners love to paint
and ladies to look upon.

The severity of his character, as well as the higher attributes of
undaunted and enterprising valour which even his enemies were compelled
to admit, lay concealed under an exterior which seemed adapted to the
court or the saloon rather than to the field. The same gentleness and
gaiety of expression which reigned in his features seemed to inspire his
actions and gestures; and, on the whole, he was generally esteemed, at
first sight, rather qualified to be the votary of pleasure than of
ambition. But under this soft exterior was hidden a spirit unbounded in
daring and in aspiring, yet cautious and prudent as that of Machiavel
himself. Profound in politics, and embued, of course, with that disregard
for individual rights which its intrigues usually generate, this leader
was cool and collected in danger, fierce and ardent in pursuing success,
careless of facing death himself, and ruthless in inflicting it upon
others. Such are the characters formed in times of civil discord, when
the highest qualities, perverted by party spirit, and inflamed by
habitual opposition, are too often combined with vices and excesses which
deprive them at once of their merit and of their lustre.

In endeavouring to reply to the polite trifles with which Claverhouse
accosted her, Edith showed so much confusion, that her grandmother
thought it necessary to come to her relief.

"Edith Bellenden," said the old lady, "has, from my retired mode of
living, seen so little of those of her own sphere, that truly she can
hardly frame her speech to suitable answers. A soldier is so rare a sight
with us, Colonel Grahame, that unless it be my young Lord Evandale, we
have hardly had an opportunity of receiving a gentleman in uniform. And,
now I talk of that excellent young nobleman, may I enquire if I was not
to have had the honour of seeing him this morning with the regiment?"

"Lord Evandale, madam, was on his march with us," answered the leader,
"but I was obliged to detach him with a small party to disperse a
conventicle of those troublesome scoundrels, who have had the impudence
to assemble within five miles of my head-quarters."

"Indeed!" said the old lady; "that is a height of presumption to which I
would have thought no rebellious fanatics would have ventured to aspire.
But these are strange times! There is an evil spirit in the land, Colonel
Grahame, that excites the vassals of persons of rank to rebel against the
very house that holds and feeds them. There was one of my able-bodied men
the other day who plainly refused to attend the wappen-schaw at my
bidding. Is there no law for such recusancy, Colonel Grahame?"

"I think I could find one," said Claverhouse, with great composure, "if
your ladyship will inform me of the name and residence of the culprit."

"His name," said Lady Margaret, "is Cuthbert Headrigg; I can say nothing
of his domicile, for ye may weel believe, Colonel Grahame, he did not
dwell long in Tillietudlem, but was speedily expelled for his contumacy.
I wish the lad no severe bodily injury; but incarceration, or even a few
stripes, would be a good example in this neighbourhood. His mother, under
whose influence I doubt he acted, is an ancient domestic of this family,
which makes me incline to mercy; although," continued the old lady,
looking towards the pictures of her husband and her sons, with which the
wall was hung, and heaving, at the same time, a deep sigh, "I, Colonel
Grahame, have in my ain person but little right to compassionate that
stubborn and rebellious generation. They have made me a childless widow,
and, but for the protection of our sacred sovereign and his gallant
soldiers, they would soon deprive me of lands and goods, of hearth and
altar. Seven of my tenants, whose joint rent-mail may mount to wellnigh a
hundred merks, have already refused to pay either cess or rent, and had
the assurance to tell my steward that they would acknowledge neither king
nor landlord but who should have taken the Covenant."

"I will take a course with them--that is, with your ladyship's
permission," answered Claverhouse; "it would ill become me to neglect the
support of lawful authority when it is lodged in such worthy hands as
those of Lady Margaret Bellenden. But I must needs say this country grows
worse and worse daily, and reduces me to the necessity of taking measures
with the recusants that are much more consonant with my duty than with my
inclinations. And, speaking of this, I must not forget that I have to
thank your ladyship for the hospitality you have been pleased to extend
to a party of mine who have brought in a prisoner, charged with having
resetted [Note: Resetted, i.e. received or harboured.] the murdering
villain, Balfour of Burley."

"The house of Tillietudlem," answered the lady, "hath ever been open to
the servants of his majesty, and I hope that the stones of it will no
longer rest on each other when it surceases to be as much at their
command as at ours. And this reminds me, Colonel Grahame, that the
gentleman who commands the party can hardly be said to be in his proper
place in the army, considering whose blood flows in his veins; and if I
might flatter myself that any thing would be granted to my request, I
would presume to entreat that he might be promoted on some favourable
opportunity."

"Your ladyship means Sergeant Francis Stewart, whom we call Bothwell?"
said Claverhouse, smiling. "The truth is, he is a little too rough in the
country, and has not been uniformly so amenable to discipline as the
rules of the service require. But to instruct me how to oblige Lady
Margaret Bellenden, is to lay down the law to me.--Bothwell," he
continued, addressing the sergeant, who just then appeared at the door,
"go kiss Lady Margaret Bellenden's hand, who interests herself in your
promotion, and you shall have a commission the first vacancy."

Bothwell went through the salutation in the manner prescribed, but not
without evident marks of haughty reluctance, and, when he had done so,
said aloud, "To kiss a lady's hand can never disgrace a gentleman; but I
would not kiss a man's, save the king's, to be made a general."

"You hear him," said Claverhouse, smiling, "there's the rock he splits
upon; he cannot forget his pedigree."

"I know, my noble colonel," said Bothwell, in the same tone, "that you
will not forget your promise; and then, perhaps, you may permit Cornet
Stewart to have some recollection of his grandfather, though the Sergeant
must forget him."

"Enough of this, sir," said Claverhouse, in the tone of command which was
familiar to him; "and let me know what you came to report to me just
now."

"My Lord Evandale and his party have halted on the high-road with some
prisoners," said Bothwell.

"My Lord Evandale?" said Lady Margaret. "Surely, Colonel Grahame, you
will permit him to honour me with his society, and to take his poor
disjune here, especially considering, that even his most sacred Majesty
did not pass the Tower of Tillietudlem without halting to partake of some
refreshment."

As this was the third time in the course of the conversation that Lady
Margaret had adverted to this distinguished event, Colonel Grahame, as
speedily as politeness would permit, took advantage of the first pause to
interrupt the farther progress of the narrative, by saying, "We are
already too numerous a party of guests; but as I know what Lord Evandale
will suffer (looking towards Edith) if deprived of the pleasure which we
enjoy, I will run the risk of overburdening your ladyship's
hospitality.--Bothwell, let Lord Evandale know that Lady Margaret
Bellenden requests the honour of his company."

"And let Harrison take care," added Lady Margaret, "that the people and
their horses are suitably seen to."

Edith's heart sprung to her lips during this conversation; for it
instantly occurred to her, that, through her influence over Lord
Evandale, she might find some means of releasing Morton from his present
state of danger, in case her uncle's intercession with Claverhouse should
prove ineffectual. At any other time she would have been much averse to
exert this influence; for, however inexperienced in the world, her native
delicacy taught her the advantage which a beautiful young woman gives to
a young man when she permits him to lay her under an obligation. And she
would have been the farther disinclined to request any favour of Lord
Evandale, because the voice of the gossips in Clydesdale had, for reasons
hereafter to be made known, assigned him to her as a suitor, and because
she could not disguise from herself that very little encouragement was
necessary to realize conjectures which had hitherto no foundation. This
was the more to be dreaded, that, in the case of Lord Evandale's making a
formal declaration, he had every chance of being supported by the
influence of Lady Margaret and her other friends, and that she would have
nothing to oppose to their solicitations and authority, except a
predilection, to avow which she knew would be equally dangerous and
unavailing. She determined, therefore, to wait the issue of her uncle's
intercession, and, should it fail, which she conjectured she should soon
learn, either from the looks or language of the open-hearted veteran, she
would then, as a last effort, make use in Morton's favour of her interest
with Lord Evandale. Her mind did not long remain in suspense on the
subject of her uncle's application.

Major Bellenden, who had done the honours of the table, laughing and
chatting with the military guests who were at that end of the board, was
now, by the conclusion of the repast, at liberty to leave his station,
and accordingly took an opportunity to approach Claverhouse, requesting
from his niece, at the same time, the honour of a particular
introduction. As his name and character were well known, the two military
men met with expressions of mutual regard; and Edith, with a beating
heart, saw her aged relative withdraw from the company, together with his
new acquaintance, into a recess formed by one of the arched windows of
the hall. She watched their conference with eyes almost dazzled by the
eagerness of suspense, and, with observation rendered more acute by the
internal agony of her mind, could guess, from the pantomimic gestures
which accompanied the conversation, the progress and fate of the
intercession in behalf of Henry Morton.

The first expression of the countenance of Claverhouse betokened that
open and willing courtesy, which, ere it requires to know the nature of
the favour asked, seems to say, how happy the party will be to confer an
obligation on the suppliant. But as the conversation proceeded, the brow
of that officer became darker and more severe, and his features, though
still retaining the expression of the most perfect politeness, assumed,
at least to Edith's terrified imagination, a harsh and inexorable
character. His lip was now compressed as if with impatience; now curled
slightly upward, as if in civil contempt of the arguments urged by Major
Bellenden. The language of her uncle, as far as expressed in his manner,
appeared to be that of earnest intercession, urged with all the
affectionate simplicity of his character, as well as with the weight
which his age and reputation entitled him to use. But it seemed to have
little impression upon Colonel Grahame, who soon changed his posture, as
if about to cut short the Major's importunity, and to break up their
conference with a courtly expression of regret, calculated to accompany a
positive refusal of the request solicited. This movement brought them so
near Edith, that she could distinctly hear Claverhouse say, "It cannot
be, Major Bellenden; lenity, in his case, is altogether beyond the bounds
of my commission, though in any thing else I am heartily desirous to
oblige you.--And here comes Evandale with news, as I think.--What tidings
do you bring us, Evandale?" he continued, addressing the young lord, who
now entered in complete uniform, but with his dress disordered, and his
boots spattered, as if by riding hard.


[Illustration: Claverhouse--176]


"Unpleasant news, sir," was his reply. "A large body of whigs are in arms
among the hills, and have broken out into actual rebellion. They have
publicly burnt the Act of Supremacy, that which established episcopacy,
that for observing the martyrdom of Charles I., and some others, and have
declared their intention to remain together in arms for furthering the
covenanted work of reformation."

This unexpected intelligence struck a sudden and painful surprise into
the minds of all who heard it, excepting Claverhouse.