Waverley Novels — Volume 12

by Walter Scott

  CHAPTER THE TENTH.

  When the nightengale singes, the wodes waxes grene, Lef, and gras, and blosme, springeth in April I wene, And love is to myne herte gone with one speare so kene. Night and day my blood hyt drynkes, mine herte deth me fane. _MSS. Hail. Quoted by Warton._

  Sir Aymer De Valance had no sooner followed his archer to the conventof Saint Bride, than he summoned the abbot to his presence, who camewith the air of a man who loves his ease, and who is suddenly calledfrom the couch where he has consigned himself to a comfortable repose,at the summons of one whom he does not think it safe to disobey, and towhom he would not disguise his sense of peevishness, if he durst.

  "It is a late ride," he said, "which has brought your worthy honourhither from the castle. May I be informed of the cause, after thearrangement so recently gone into with the governor?"

  "It is my hope," replied the knight, "that you, Father Abbot, are notalready conscious of it; suspicions are afloat, and I myself have thisnight seen something to confirm them, that some of the obstinate rebelsof this country are again setting afoot dangerous practices, to theperil of the garrison; and I come, father, to see whether, in requitalof many favours received from the English monarch, you will not merithis bounty and protection, by contributing to the discovery of thedesigns of his enemies."

  "Assuredly so," answered Father Jerome, in an agitated voice. "Mostunquestionably my information should stand at your command; that is, ifI knew any thing the communication of which could be of advantage toyou."

  "Father Abbot," replied the English knight, "although it is rash tomake myself responsible for a North-country man in these times, yet Iown I do consider you as one who has ever been faithfully subject tothe King of England, and I willingly hope that you will still continueso."

  "And a fine encouragement I have!" said the abbot; "to be called out ofmy bed at midnight, in this raw weather, to undergo the examination ofa knight, who is the youngest, perhaps, of his own honourable rank, andwho will not tell me the subject of the interrogatories, but detains meon this cold pavement, till, according to the opinion of Celsus, thepodagra which lurks in my feet may be driven into my stomach, and thengood-night to abbacy and examinations from henceforward."

  "Good father," said the young man, "the spirit of the times must teachthee patience; recollect that I can feel no pleasure in this duty, andthat if an insurrection should take place, the rebels, who aresufficiently displeased with thee for acknowledging the Englishmonarch, would hang thee from thine own steeple to feed the crows; orthat, if thou hast secured thy peace by some private compact with theinsurgents, the English governor, who will sooner or later gain theadvantage, will not fail to treat thee as a rebel to his sovereign."

  "It may appear to you, my noble son," answered the abbot, obviouslydiscomposed, "that I am hung up, in this case, on the horns of thedilemma which you have stated; nevertheless, I protest to you, that ifany one accuses me of conspiring with the rebels against the King ofEngland, I am ready, provided you give me time to swallow a potionrecommended by Celsus in my perilous case, to answer with the mostperfect sincerity every question which you can put to me upon thatsubject." So saying, he called upon a monk who had attended at hislevee, and giving him a large key, whispered something in his ear. Thecup which the monk brought was of such capacity as proved Celsus'sdraught required to be administered in considerable quantity, and astrong smell which it spread through the apartment, accredited theknight's suspicion that the medicine chiefly consisted of what werethen termed distilled waters, a preparation known in the monasteriesfor some time before that comfortable secret had reached the laity ingeneral. The abbot, neither overawed by the strength nor by thequantity of the potion, took it off with what he himself would havecalled a feeling of solace and pleasance, and his voice became muchmore composed; he signified himself as comforted extraordinarily by themedicine, and willing to proceed to answer any questions which could beput to him by his gallant young friend.

  "At present," said the knight, "you are aware, father, that strangerstravelling through this country, must be the first objects of oursuspicions and enquiries. What is, for example, your own opinion of theyouth termed Augustine, the son, or calling himself so, of a personcalled Bertram the minstrel, who has resided for some days in yourconvent?"

  The abbot heard the question with eyes expressive of surprise at thequarter from which it came.

  "Assuredly," said he, "I think of him as a youth who, from any thing Ihave seen, is of that excellent disposition, both with respect toloyalty and religion, which I should have expected, were I to judgefrom the estimable person who committed him to my care."

  With this the abbot bowed to the knight, as if he had conceived thatthis repartee gave him a silencing advantage in any question whichcould follow upon that subject; and he was probably, therefore,surprised when Sir Aymer replied as follows:

  "It is very true, Father Abbot, that I myself did recommend thisstripling to you as a youth of a harmless disposition, and with respectto whom it would be unnecessary to exercise the strict vigilanceextended to others in similar circumstances; but the evidence whichseemed to me to vouch for this young man's innocence, has not appearedso satisfactory to my superior and commander; and it is by his ordersthat I now make farther enquiries of you. You must think they are ofconsequence, since we again trouble you, and at so unwonted an hour."

  "I can only protest by my order, and by the veil of Saint Bride,"replied the abbot, the spirit of Celsus appearing to fail his pupil,"that whatever evil may be in this matter, is totally unknown tome--nor could it be extorted from me by racks or implements of torture.Whatever signs of disloyalty may have been evinced by this young man, Ihave witnessed none of them, although I have been strictly attentive tohis behaviour."

  "In what respect?" said the knight--"and what is the result of yourobservation?"

  "My answer," said the abbot of Saint Bride, "shall be sincere anddownright. The youth condescended upon payment of a certain number ofgold crowns, not by any means to repay the hospitality of the church ofSaint Bride, but merely"--

  "Nay, father," interrupted the knight, "you may cut that short, sincethe governor and I well understand the terms upon which the monks ofSaint Bride exercise their hospitality. In what manner, it is morenecessary to ask, was it received by this boy?"

  "With the utmost gentleness and moderation, noble sir," answered theabbot; "indeed it appeared to me, at first, that he might be atroublesome guest, since the amount of his benevolence to the conventwas such as to encourage, and, in some degree, to authorise, hisdemanding accommodation of a kind superior to what we had to bestow."

  "In which case," said Sir Aymer, "you would have had the discomfort ofreturning some part of the money you have received?"

  "That," replied the abbot, "would have been a mode of settlementcontrary to our vows. What is paid to the treasury of Saint Bridget,cannot, agreeably to our rule, be on any account restored. But, nobleknight, there was no occasion for this; a crust of white bread and adraught of milk were diet sufficient to nourish this poor youth for aday, and it was my own anxiety for his health that dictated thefurnishing of his cell with a softer bed and coverlet than are quiteconsistent with the rules of our order."

  "Now hearken to what I say, Sir Abbot, and answer me truly," said theKnight of Valence--"What communication has this youth held with theinmates of your convent, or with those beyond your house? Search yourmemory concerning this, and let me have a distinct answer, for yourguest's safety and your own depend upon it."

  "As I am a Christian man," said the abbot, "I have observed nothingwhich could give ground for your worship's suspicions. The boyAugustine, unlike those whom I have observed who have been educated inthe world, showed a marked preference to the company of such sisters asthe house of Saint Bride contains, rather than for that of the monks,my brethren, although there are among them pleasant and conversiblemen."

  "Scandal," said the young knight, "might find a rea
son for thatpreference."

  "Not in the case of the sisters of Saint Bridget," said the abbot,"most of whom have been either sorely misused by time, or theircomeliness destroyed by some mishap previously to their being receivedinto the seclusion of the house."

  This observation the good father made with some internal movement ofmirth, which was apparently excited at the idea of the sisterhood ofSaint Bridget becoming attractive to any one by dint of their personalbeauty, in which, as it happened, they were all notably, and almostludicrously, deficient. The English knight, to whom the sisterhood werewell known, felt also inclined to smile at this conversation.

  "I acquit," he said, "the pious sisterhood of charming, otherwise thanby their kind wishes, and attention to the wants of the sufferingstranger."

  "Sister Beatrice," continued the father, resuming his gravity, "isindeed blessed with a winning gift of making comfits and syllabubs;but, on minute enquiry, I do not find that the youth has tasted any ofthem. Neither is sister Ursula so hard-favoured by nature, as from theeffects of an accident; but your honour knows that when a woman isugly, the men do not trouble themselves about the cause of her hardfavour. I will go, with your leave, and see in what state the youth nowis, and summon him, before you."

  "I request you to do so, father, for the affair is instant: and Iearnestly advise you to watch, in the closest manner, this Augustine'sbehaviour: you cannot be too particular. I will wait your return, andeither carry the boy to the castle, or leave him here, as circumstancesmay seem to require."

  The abbot bowed, promised his utmost exertions, and hobbled out of theroom to wait on the youth Augustine in his cell, anxious to favour, ifpossible, the wishes of De Valence, whom he looked upon as rendered bycircumstances his military patron.

  He remained long absent, and Sir Aymer began to be of opinion that thedelay was suspicious, when the abbot returned with perplexity anddiscomposure in his countenance.

  "I crave your pardon for keeping your worship waiting," said Jerome,with much anxiety; "but I have myself been detained and vexed byunnecessary formalities and scruples on the part of this peevish boy.In the first place, hearing my foot approaching his bedroom, my youth,instead of undoing the door, which would have been but proper respectto my place, on the contrary draws a strong bolt on the inside; andthis fastening, forsooth, has been placed on his chamber by Ursula'scommand, that his slumbers might be suitably respected. I intimated tohim as I best could, that he must attend you without delay, and prepareto accompany you to the Castle of Douglas; but he would not answer asingle word, save recommending to me patience, to which I was fain tohave recourse, as well as your archer, whom I found standing sentinelbefore the door of the cell, and contenting himself with the assuranceof the sisters that there was no other passage by which Augustine couldmake his escape. At length the door opens, and my young master presentshimself fully arrayed for his journey. The truth is, I think some freshattack of his malady has affected the youth; he may perhaps bedisturbed with some touch of hypochondria, or black choler, a speciesof dotage of the mind, which is sometimes found concomitant with andsymptomatic of this disorder; but he is at present composed, and ifyour worship chooses to see him, he is at your command."

  "Call him hither," said the knight. And a considerable space of timeagain elapsed ere the eloquence of the abbot, half chiding and halfsoothing, prevailed on the lady, in her adopted character, to approach,the parlour, in which at last she made her appearance, with acountenance on which the marks of tears might still be discovered, anda pettish sullenness, like that of a boy, or, with reverence, that of agirl, who is determined upon taking her own way in any matter, andequally resolved to give no reason for her doing so. Her hurried leveehad not prevented her attending closely to all the mufflings anddisguisings by which her pilgrim's dress was arranged, so as to alterher appearance, and effectually disguise her sex. But as civilityprevented her wearing her large slouched hat, she necessarily exposedher countenance more than in the open air; and though the knight behelda most lovely set of features, yet they were not such as wereinconsistent with the character she had adopted, and which she hadresolved upon maintaining to the last. She had, accordingly, musteredup a degree of courage which was not natural to her, and which sheperhaps supported by hopes which her situation hardly admitted. So soonas she found herself in the same apartment with De Valence, she assumeda style of manners, bolder and more determined than she had hithertodisplayed.

  "Your worship," she said, addressing him even before he spoke, "is aknight of England, and possessed, doubtless, of the virtues whichbecome that noble station. I am an unfortunate lad, obliged, by reasonswhich I am under the necessity of keeping secret, to travel in adangerous country, where I am suspected, without any just cause, ofbecoming accessory to plots and conspiracies which are contrary to myown interest, and which my very soul abhors; and which I might safelyabjure, by imprecating upon myself all the curses of our religion andrenouncing all its promises, if I were accessory to such designs, inthought, word, or deed. Nevertheless, you, who will not believe mysolemn protestations, are about to proceed against me as a guiltyperson, and in so doing I must warn you, Sir Knight, that you willcommit a great and cruel injustice."

  "I shall endeavour to avoid that," said the knight, "by referring theduty to Sir John de Walton, the governor, who will decide what is to bedone; in this case, my only duty will be to place you in his hands atDouglas Castle."

  "Must you do this?" said Augustine.

  "Certainly," replied the knight, "or be answerable for neglecting myduty."

  "But if I become bound to answer your loss with a large sum of money, alarge tract of land"--

  "No treasure, no land,--supposing such at your disposal," answered theknight, "can atone for disgrace; and, besides, boy, how should I trustto your warrant, were my avarice such as would induce me to listen tosuch proposals?"

  "I must then prepare to attend you instantly to the Castle of Douglasand the presence of Sir John de Walton?" replied Augustine.

  "Young man," answered De Valence, "there is no remedy, since if youdelay me longer, I must carry you thither by force."

  "What will be the consequence to my father?" said the youth.

  "That," replied the knight, "will depend exactly on the nature of yourconfession and his; something you both have to say, as is evident fromthe terms of the letter Sir John de Walton conveyed to you; and Iassure you, you were better to speak it out at once than to risk theconsequences of more delay. I can admit of no more trifling; and,believe me, that your fate will be entirely ruled by your own franknessand candour."

  "I must prepare, then, to travel at your command," said the youth. "Butthis cruel disease still hangs around me, and Abbot Jerome, whoseleech-craft is famous, will himself assure you that I cannot travelwithout danger of my life; and that while I was residing in thisconvent, I declined every opportunity of exercise which was offered meby the kindness of the garrison at Hazelside, lest I might by mishapbring the contagion among your men."

  "The youth says right," said the abbot; "the archers and men-at-armshave more than once sent to invite this lad to join in some of theirmilitary games, or to amuse them, perhaps, with some of his minstrelsy;but he has uniformly declined doing so; and, according to my belief, itis the effects of this disorder which have prevented his accepting anindulgence so natural to his age, and in so dull a place as the conventof Saint Bride must needs seem to a youth bred up in the world."

  "Do you then hold, reverend father," said Sir Aymer, "that there isreal danger in carrying this youth to the castle to-night, as Iproposed?"

  "I conceive such danger," replied the abbot, "to exist, not only as itmay occasion the relapse of the poor youth himself, but as particularlylikely, no preparations having been made, to introduce the infectionamong your honourable garrison; for it is in these relapses, more thanin the first violence of the malady, that it has been found mostcontagious."

  "Then," said the knight, "you must be content, my friend, to give
ashare of your room to an archer, by way of sentinel."

  "I cannot object," said Augustine, "provided my unfortunate vicinitydoes not endanger the health of the poor soldier."

  "He will be as ready to do his duty," said the abbot, "without the doorof the apartment as within it; and if the youth should sleep soundly,which the presence of a guard in his chamber might prevent, he is themore likely to answer your purpose on the morrow."

  "Let it be so," said Sir Aymer; "so you are sure that you do notminister any facility of escape."'

  "The apartment," said the monk, "hath no other entrance than that whichis guarded by the archer; but, to content you, I shall secure the doorin your presence."

  "So be it, then," said the Knight of Valence; "this done, I myself willlie down without doffing my mail-shirt, and snatch a sleep till theruddy dawn calls me again to duty, when you, Augustine, will holdyourself ready to attend me to our Castle of Douglas."

  The bells of the convent summoned the inhabitants and inmates of SaintBride to morning prayers at the first peep of day. When this duty wasover, the knight demanded his prisoner. The abbot marshalled him to thedoor of Augustine's chamber. The sentinel who was stationed there,armed with a brown-bill, or species of partisan, reported that he hadheard no motion in the apartment during the whole night. The abbottapped at the door, but received no answer. He knocked again louder,but the silence was unbroken from within.

  "What means this?" said the reverend ruler of the convent of SaintBride; "my young patient has certainly fallen into a syncope or swoon!"

  "I wish, Father Abbot," said the knight, "that he may not have made hisescape instead, an accident which both you and I may be required toanswer, since, according to our strict duty, we ought to have keptsight of him, and detained him in close custody until daybreak."

  "I trust your worship," said the abbot, "only anticipates a misfortunewhich I cannot think possible."

  "We shall speedily see," said the knight; and raising his voice, hecalled aloud, so as to be heard within, "Bring crow-bars and levers,and burst me that door into splinters without an instant's delay."

  The loudness of his voice, and the stern tone in which he spoke, soonbrought around him the brethren of the house, and two or three soldiersof his own party, who were already busy in caparisoning their horses.The displeasure of the young knight was manifested by his flushedfeatures, and the abrupt manner in which he again repeated his commandsfor breaking open the door. This was speedily performed, though itrequired the application of considerable strength, and as the shatteredremains fell crashing into the apartment, De Valence sprung, and theabbot hobbled, into the cell of the prisoner, which, to the fulfilmentof their worst suspicions, they found empty.