The Three Perils of Man; or, War, Women, and Witchcraft, Vol. 2 (of 3)

by James Hogg

  CHAPTER IV.

  The wind blew as 'twould blawn it's last, The thickening showers rose on the blast; The speedy gleam the darkness swallowed, Loud, deep, and lang the thunder bellowed; That night a child might understand The deil had business on his hand!

  _Tam o' Shanter._

  Long was it before any of the astonished spectators opened their lips.The shock had almost deprived them of sense, sight, and motion; and whenthey began to articulate, it was only to utter short exclamations, andnames of saints. Tam Craik was the first who ventured a remark, whichwas in the following words:--"By the Lord Robin!" (meaning, it wassupposed, the king,) "The deil has flown away wi' him bodily in a flasho' fire!"

  The great Master stood mute with astonishment; he even trembled withdread; and appeared once as if he would have fallen at the friar's feet:But he never said, Where is my seneschal gone? Whither hast thou senthim? seeming rather to succumb to his guests for the time, being as aman utterly at their mercy. His powerful and malevolent spirits had lefthim by his command; his steward, and only human attendant, had beenblown into the air; and as for the miserable night-hag, they had seen nomore of her since her escape from the prison vault, and they wist notwhether she remained in the castle, or had fled from it out of dread ofthe symbols of the Christian religion, which she had seen about thefriar, and the effects of which she had felt in frustrating her potentspells. The wizard had therefore none to execute his commands, andappeared a being quite forlorn, as well as greatly troubled in his mind.

  No one ever knew to this day by what means the wicked seneschal wasborne away among the clouds in a column of fire and smoke; and those whowitnessed it spread the word over the country, that the devil took himaway with a great roar amid fire and brimstone; and that, after havinghim up among the dark clouds, he tore him all to pieces. It was a factthat one of the steward's mangled limbs was found hanging on a tree,among some thick branches, in the wood of Sheil's Heuch, over againstthe castle, which gave some countenance to the report; and no fartherremnants of him were ever discovered.

  The friar, however, knew well enough by what means he was taken away;and though he never explained it as long as he remained in Scotland, itis meet that the readers of this tale should know the truth. It can betold in a few words. The friar had brought his huge wallet full of thestrongest gunpowder he had been able to make, to shew off his wonderfulfeats, and astonish the great Master. The exigency of the moment inducedhim to part with it all at once; and, in all probability, he could nothave caused so much astonishment by any experiment he could have put inpractice.

  He was guilty, however, of a manifest oversight; one that had wellnigh proved fatal to the whole party in its consequences, When theyfound themselves freed from their vile persecutor, and the greatMaster rather their prisoner than they his, their first thoughtwas of departing from that unhallowed place, and awaiting, in theneighbourhood, the wizard's final answer, without which they durst notwell return to the warden.

  Charlie jumped on the battlement with very joy that he would now getdown to the mill to see what was become of Corby, and how he fared; andhe was the first man to proceed down the narrow stair-case, leading theway to the fair fields. But, alas, how transient are all sublunary joysand hopes! In the middle of this confined and difficult stair, just atits darkest and most acute turn, there was a massive iron door, whichCharlie ran his nose against in his descent, and soon found, to hismortification and disappointment, that it was locked and double locked.He returned to those above with the dismal information. The friar'scountenance fell, and he became pale as ashes, when it was thus broughtto his recollection that he had not only blown the brutal seneschal tothe devil, but that he had blown the keys of the castle along with him;and there were they left on the roof to perish with hunger.

  After many ineffectual attempts to break open that door, having no otherresource, they agreed to go to the topmost tower, and there unite theirvoices, in order to raise the country to their assistance; for, withoutropes and ladders, they saw no means of escape. Accordingly theyascended, and uttered many a prolonged and tremendous shout, for thespace of a whole hour. But these unwonted cries only drove the hinds toa greater distance from the castle. Many of them had witnessed themighty explosion at the exit of the seneschal, which, in the middle ofthe lurid gloom, had a hideous effect; and when they heard such long andloud howls proceeding from the battlements of that gloomy and desolatepile, they weened that a whole host of demons had assembled about it,and kept far aloof.

  In these and other fruitless exertions, our hapless prisoners spent theevening of that eventful day. The sun, or the blue sky, had not onceappeared since the break of morn. For a little while, about noon, thehills of the Forest were visible, and, on their back-ground of paleshadowy clouds, formed a scene of dark sublimity. Still, as itapproached toward evening, these clouds came lower and lower down uponthe hills, and became more dark and dense in their appearance; andprecisely at the close of day the storm burst forth in all its fury,sweeping over hill and dale with increasing majesty every minute. Thewoods roared and crashed before the blast. The snow descended so thickthat in a short time every ravine and sheltered dell was heaped. Afterthat came sleet and snow mingled; and, finally, a driving rain dashedwith such violence on the earth, that it seemed as if a thousandcataracts poured from the western heaven to mix with the tempest below.Needless is it to describe that night farther. It was that on which thegreat battle was fought in the camp of Douglas, and formerly mentionedin this momentous history.--It is therefore apparent that Isaac thecurate is now drawing near to the same period of time when he broke offat a tangent and left the camp, and that every thing will, of course, goon to the catastrophe without further interruption.

  * * * * *

  Kind hearted and gentle reader, be not too sanguine. Who can tell whatis to fall out between the cup and the lip? Incidents seem to havemultipled intentionally to interrupt poor Isaac's narrative. Besides,let any one consider how he is to liberate and get free of this group ofinteresting individuals, locked up, as they were, to perish on the topof the castle of Aikwood. It was no difficulty to Isaac. He was one ofthose wise and downright men who know that truth tells always the best,and to that maxim he adhered. But the worst of it was, there were somany truths, that any body may see it was scarcely possible to get themall narrated in their proper places; and that, without the help of thewaggoner, the task could never have been effected.

  "Gude sauf us, but it is gaun to be an awsome night!" said CharlieScott, as he stepped the last up into the dark apartment in which theparty had spent the greater part of the day, and into which the stormhad now driven them once more.

  "Gaun to be?" said Tam, taking up Charlie's words; "I wot nae what it isgaun to be, but it is an awsome night already."

  "It brings me in mind of a story," said Gibbie, "that I hae often heardabout a friar Gabriel o' St Martin's that raised the deil--"

  "Od, Sir, an ye dare, for the blood of you, speak another word aboutraising the deil the night," cried Charlie, interrupting him, "may I bechased by an Englishman, if I dinna thraw you ower the castle wa'. Welittle ken wha may be near, or wha may be amang us. Gin ane may judge byappearances, that same chap ye hae named (gude keep me frae repeatingit) isna in his ain hett hame the night. Heaven defend us, hear how thewind howls and sobs! I wish yon auld houses o' the mill may be safeaneuch; they stand sair exposed. Hech-ho! hear til't! There will be monycauld quarters on Otterdale the night, but there is some a-wanting therethat wad be blithe to share them."

  The friar now set himself to strike a light, which at last he effected;and collecting the oil which remained in the lamps into one, they found,to Charlie's great satisfaction, that they had as much as would burnover-night, besides some remnants of waxen torches. Of all the hugeremains of their morning feast that they had seen removed from thetable, they could not find one vestige, even though the trenchersremained in the chamber as it was termed; but, to
their great joy, theyfound an article as precious to the eyes, for about two-thirds of thehuge flagon of the wine of Palestine were still left. This, in the totalabsence of fuel, was a discovery of some consequence; and the friar, inthe like absence of a steward, took that office voluntarily on himself.

  When the lamp was kindled, the first thing that Delany did was to dressthe poor poet's hurt head, and bind it up with a napkin. This attentionand kindness so thrilled his heart that he could not refrain from tears,and seemed to rejoice in his wound; and as both he and his adored maidenhad seen the ruffian steward transported up to heaven in a flameof fire, they were freed from all terror on his account; and,notwithstanding all the perils with which they were surrounded, theyappeared composed, and, if not happy, were at least quite resigned totheir fate.

  The great Master sat muffled up in his cloak, and apart by himself, hisbrows screwed down into deep curved wrinkles, and his sunken eye fixedon the ground. The friar filled a cup of wine, and, bowing, presented itto him the first. He took the cup, and drank it off, but he spoke not aword: his piercing eyes glimmered round the chamber; he uttered a loudgroan, and, apparently, sunk again into his deep reverie. Thetransportation of his steward, while in the very act of braving thefriar's might, made a terrible impression on his mind, and he weenedthat he now sat before his master--before one that might send him on avoyage of the same nature whenever he chose; and therefore he judged,with great reason, that for a space it behoved him to keep on good termswith so dangerous an opponent.

  When each had taken a cup of the elevating beverage, the effect wasdelightful; all their cares, dangers, and wants faded; the terrors ofthe storm, that was still increasing, only startled them now and then,as it rattled on the tower, or yelled thro' the crevices below. Theychatted, laughed, and broke jokes on each other, till even the sublimeMaster was diverted from his profound and brooding ideas, and smiled atthe rustic simplicity of the characters around him. The laird of thePeatstacknowe told a great number of his long stories, of whichsomething that was seen, said, or done, always reminded him; Charlietold confused stories about battles and forays; and the poet came inalways between with his rythmatic descriptions and allusions; until atone time the associations of ideas followed one another in a manner sotruly ludicrous, that the enchanter actually laughed till he had almostfallen into a fit, a thing that had not for twenty years been witnessedof him.

  The tempest still continued to rage, and the loquacity of the partybeginning to flag, they became drowsy as midnight approached. The friarthen looking gravely around him, and, laying aside his hood, took asmall psalter book from his bosom; which volume also contained the fourbooks of the Apocalypse; and, opening it reverendly, he proposed thatthey should all join in performing the evening service to the Virgin,and the hymn to the Redeemer. Delany rose from off the lap of the poet'scloak, where she had sat nestling all the evening, and came and kneeleddown at the friar's knee. The Master started up with a look ofindignation, stamped on the floor, and ordered the friar to put up hisvain book, and refrain from such flummery in his presence. The friarlooked at him with a steady countenance.

  "It is not meet that I should obey man rather than God," said he. "Ihave taken a vow in the face of Heaven, and I will pay that vow inspite of men and devils. I will sing my holy hymns with these my friendsand children, and he that listeth not to join, let him be accursed, andtranslated from the presence."

  This last sentence sounded rather equivocally in the Master's ears. Heliked not such a translation as he had lately witnessed; for, with allhis power and mysterious art, the terrors of death still encompassed himabout. He held his peace, therefore, although he growled like a lion atbay at being bearded thus in his own castle.

  The friar proceeded as he had said, and all the rest joined him withbecoming devotion, save the poet, whose orisons that night were somewhatcold. He could not brook the charm that drew Delany from his own side tohis rival's knee. The Master sat aloof, biting his lip, and grinning inderision; but, at one part of the service, although the curate does notsay what part, he was insensibly overcome, and fell into a painfuloblivious dream. The strains of the sacred music, simple as they were,stole over his soul, as some remembrance of early life sometimes stealsinto the heart of enfeebled age, reminding the decaying and dying wormof joys he can no more see, and of feelings of delight that haveperished for ever.--If a son of the mountains of the north weretransported to some far foreign clime, and there doomed to remain forlife: After sojourning in that land for half an age, until grey andbowed down, if by chance, on some still evening, or mayhap through theeddies of the storm, one of the strains of his native land were pouredon his ear, think of the recollections it would awaken in his mind: Howpainfully thrilling the sensations! Would it not be like the last sweetbeam of a hope he was never more to cherish, a last look of all that wasdear on earth?--Such were the feelings that crept unbidden over the soulof the enchanter, on hearing the sweet sounds, that reminded him of areligion he had for ever renounced, and in which he had never firmlybelieved till he had believed to tremble.

  In this troubled trance he sat leaning against the wall, until theworshippers had reached the middle of the hymn to the Saviour. He thenwas seized with strong convulsions, and, rising up, with staggeringsteps, he fled from the chamber, crying as he went,--"Cruel andimprovident things! reptiles! cursed, whining sycophants! that wouldsend me to my doom before my time!" He rushed out to the battlements,and, groping his way through the storm, took shelter in the narrowstaircase, that he might hear no more of the sounds that thus troubledand distracted his soul. What dread had seized him, or what he had seenor heard, his guests knew not; but they had scarcely well ended theirhymn, when he rushed again in among them, with wildered looks, and hishair standing on end, seeming glad to take shelter among those from whomhe had so lately fled with abhorrence. No one enquired the cause, forall were so weary and overcome with slumber; and every one then composedhimself to sleep in the manner that best suited his convenience.

  The storm continued to rage with unabated violence, and, after they hadlaid themselves down, they found that the castle was all tottering andquaking before it. The firmest heart was appalled; for the rocking ofthe castle was not all; every now and then they heard eldritch shrieksarising, as of some wretch perishing, or rather, as some of themthought, like the voices of angry spirits yelling through the tempest.When one of these howling sounds came on the blast, every one of ourprostrate friends breathed a deep sigh, or uttered some exclamatorysound, Charlie had always one, which he uttered even after he wasasleep. "Hech! Gude sauf us, sirs! what will be the upshot o' a' this?"The Master sat muffled up in the corner close behind them, and after hejudged them all to be asleep he fell a-crooning a sort of hymn in anunder key. The poet was, however, more than half awake, and gathered upsome broken fragments of it. Poets are never to trust when they givequotations from memory out of the works of others; and perhaps honestCarol might add some bombastic lines of his own, but he always averredthat the following lines formed a part of the warlock's hymn.

  "Pother, pother, My master and brother! Who may endure thee, Thus failing in fury? King of the tempest that travels the plain; King of the snow, and the hail, and the rain, Lend to thy lever yet seven times seven, Blow up the blue flame for bolt and for levin, The red forge of hell with the bellows of heaven! With hoop, and with hammer! With yell, and with yammer; Hold them at play, Till the dawn of the day! Pother! pother! My sovereign and brother!

  "O strain to thy lever, This world to sever In two or in three-- What joy it would be! What toiling, and moiling, and mighty commotions! What rending of hills, and what roaring of oceans! Ay, that is thy voice, I know it full well; And that is thy whistle's majestic swell; But why wilt thou ride thy furious race, Along the bounds of vacant space, While there is tongue of flesh to scream, And life to start,
and blood to stream? Yet pother, pother! My sovereign and brother! And men shall see, ere the rising sun, What deeds thy mighty arm hath done."

  If it was true that the Master sung these ridiculous lines, which is notvery likely, his "sovereign and brother" had not accepted of hissacrifice, nor paid due deference to his incense of praise. For, alittle before the break of day, our group were aroused from theirprofound slumbers by loud and reiterated cries. The lamp was stillburning feebly and blue. Charlie, whose ear was well trained to catchany alarm, was the first to start up; but the sight that he saw soonlaid him again flat on the floor, though not before he had leaped clearover a narrow oak-table and two forms. There was a black being, thatappeared to be half-man and half-beast, dragging Master Michael Scottalong the room toward the door; yet he dragged him with difficulty, andat some times the wizard seemed rather to prevail. Horrible as thisphantom was, all those who saw it agreed that there was something aboutit that instantly reminded them of the late seneschal; and, as theyraised their heads and beheld it, every heart was chilled with terror.Charlie pronounced his short, loud prayer, which has already beenrecorded in this history, and which consisted merely of one vehementsentence of three syllables; yea, he pronounced it as he flew; and thensquatting in a corner, and covering his head with his cloak, that,whatever dreadful thing happened, he might not see it, there he layrepeating his little prayer as fast as human breath could utter it.

  The demon struggled hard with the Master; and the latter, as may well besupposed, exerted his utmost power,--so that his adversary only got himtoward the door as it were by inches. When he found himself losingground, he always made a certain writhing motion, which cannot bedescribed, and which every time extricated him somewhat from hisadversary's clutches. Then the apparition laid hold of him again by theleft side with his lobster claws, and that gripe uniformly caused thewizard to utter a loud and piercing cry. At such times Charlie's littleprayer might be heard waxing still louder as the strife increased; and,though he lifted not his face from the earth, he continued a kind ofspurning motion with his feet, as if he would fain have burrowed underthe wall like a mole.

  For a long time no one durst move to the Master's assistance. The sceneso far surpassed ought they had ever conceived in horror, that theirsenses remained altogether benumbed. The combat continued with unabatedardour. The Master foamed at the mouth, his hair stood all on end, andhis bloodshot eyes stared wildly, as if they would have started fromtheir sockets. At length the fiend so far prevailed as to drag theMaster close to the door, where he threw him down, and made a motion asif he would have dashed him through below it. But Michael was flesh andblood, and could not enter nor depart by the key-hole, or the foot ofthe door, like the beings with whom he had to do. The demon thereforetried to open the door; but the enchanter's muscular frame being jammedagainst it, it could not be opened at once. Michael's efforts were nowdirected to that object alone, namely, the keeping of the door shut, andhe exerted himself till his remaining strength was exhausted, but atlast suffered himself to be dragged back from the door, repeating thesewords as he lay flat on his back:--"'Tis done! 'Tis done! 'Tis over!'Tis over!"

  The lookers on sat and trembled, all save the friar, who had by thattime somewhat rallied his scattered senses, and stood on his feet. Thefiend had dragged the Master back from the door by the feet, and holdinghim down by the grey hair with one hand, he opened the door with theother; then, stooping down, he twisted the one hand, armed with redcrooked claws, in his hair, and the other in his long grizzled beard.The friar had stepped forward, and, at that moment, laying the rood onthe Master's forehead with the one hand, and the open Book of theGospels on his breast with the other, he pronounced a sacred Name, andin that name commanded the demon to depart. Swift as the javelin leavesthe hand of the warrior, or the winged shaft flies from the bowstring,did the monster fly from the symbols of a creed by which he and hisconfederate powers were all controlled, and from a name and authority atwhich the depths of hell trembled. He rushed out at the door with a yellof dismay, and threw himself from the battlement on the yielding wind.The friar peeped forth after him, but he only heard a booming sound,which died on the gale, and beheld like a dragon of blue livid fireflying toward the east, in the direction of the hill of Eildon.

  The friar returned into the chamber with a countenance beaming with joy.No conqueror ever returned from the field of battle with an exultationof mind so sublime as that which now lighted up his uncourtly mien. Hisvictory had been so sudden and so complete, that all present wereastounded at the greatness and extent of his power, and none of hisfriends doubted that his might was as far above that of their host asthe sun or the stars are above the earth. They had in this instance seenit exemplified in a manner not to be disputed; and there was the Masterhimself still sitting on the floor, and gazing on his deliverer withastonishment.

  "Man, may I not thank thee for this?" said he.

  "No," said the friar, "think not of a poor mortal thing like me,overcome with sins, faults, and follies: You are freed for this time;but thank One who is greater than I."

  "True; I am freed for the present," said the Master; "but it is by amode, and by a power, that I dare not, for my existence, acknowledge oracquiesce in."

  When Charlie heard by what was passing that the devil had beenvanquished and was fled, he called out with a voice that seemed to comefrom under ground,--for he was so muffled up in his cloak that thesounds could scarcely be heard,--"Friar, steek the door." The good manobeyed, and as soon as Charlie heard the welcome sound, he raised hisface, which was much of the same colour as a living lobster, and,standing on one knee, viewed all the faces and corners with thateloquence of eye which is quite indescribable. How superior was it tohis blunt address:--"Gude sauf us, callans, is a' safe?--Is thecoutribat ower? Sic a fie-gae-to as yon I saw never! Hech! but it is anunsonsy place this! I wadna live here an there warna another place to behad aneath the shoulder o' heaven."

  A long discussion now commenced between the friar and the Master, on theprinciples which each of them professed. That colloquy is too serious,and too tedious, to be copied at full length in this place; but itamounted simply to this,--That the one considered the ChristianRevelation as the source of all that is good, wise, or great among men.The other had disbelieved it from his youth upward; and, not being ableto come to any conclusion from ought he could learn among men, he hadbesought communion with the potent spirits of the elements; and, afterseven years of unparalleled suffering, such as cannot be named, hadattained what he sought. These had confirmed him in his infidelity. Hehad entered into a league with them, renouncing, for ever and ever, allright in a Redeemer, and signing the covenant with his own blood. Thatafterwards he had rejoiced in this fellowship, which had enabled him todo deeds such as no other man could perform, till by degrees hediscovered that the meanest professor of the religion of Jesus, ifinfluenced by faith and sincerity, had the power of counteracting thesemighty spirits, and of frustrating their highest intents. That then hiseyes were opened when it was too late, and he only believed in time totremble and despair. The friar urged the inexhaustible riches ofheavenly mercy; but the Master spurned at it, declaring his resolutionto abide by his covenant, whatever his fate might be. He despised thevery name and nature of repentance, and would rather suffer with thecolleagues he had chosen, he said, than whine and cringe to anothermaster,--"Though I now feel to my sorrow that they are subordinate,"added he, "yet are they mighty and powerful, beyond what thou canstcomprehend; and why may not I be a sharer in their energies in a futureexistence as well as in this?"

  The friar gazed and trembled when he heard the wild and erratic ideas ofthis extraordinary man; and, ceasing to reason further with him, heenquired how it came that some of these mighty associates of his werehis enemies, and seemed but to watch an opportunity of tearing him inpieces.

  "They are jealous of their rights, and capricious beyond allconception," said he. "The utmost circumspection is not fit to keep onfair an
d equal terms with them. Even yet I do not know but that this isto be my last night here. If I have gone beyond my commission in theorders I have given, then am I doomed to be their bond slave for ages:but if I am within my limited bounds, and the work is effected, thenshall I still be obeyed for a time and a season. Would that it weremorning that I might know the worst!"

  "Scarcely dost thou need to express thy wish again," said the friar;"for, lo, the day dawneth in the east, and the shadows flee away beforeit; the winds have gone to their chambers to sleep, and the rains areover and gone. Let us walk forth and see how the darkness fadeth beforethe face of the day, and all that is stirring abroad on the fair face ofthe creation."

  The Master did not move, for it was yet but twilight, and nothing couldbe seen distinctly; but the friar stepped down to the battlements, andCharlie, who looked on him as their only safeguard, followed. The poetwould doubtless have followed also to have seen the dawn of the morningafter a storm; but, like all the rhyming race to this day, he wasenslaved by the eyes of a maid, languished in chains, and could not movebut as she moved. Alas for the poor amorous poet! The others lay in asluggish and restless slumber.

  The friar and the bold yeoman strode together along the paved way, andlooked abroad; but they could see only the clouds whitening in theeastern horizon, without being able to distinguish wood from waste, orland from water.

  "Let us kneel down and pray, my son," said the friar, "even in thisquiet place, where we shall be freed from the interruptions of thewicked one; for great and manifold are the dangers that surround us. Isee not what remains for us, but either to throw ourselves from thewalls and perish, or remain where we are and feed upon one another."

  "It is an awsome eternitive, man," answered Charlie; "I'm sure an yethink praying will do ony good, I shall take off my bonnet and kneeldown on my knees, and hearken weel; but what mair can I do?"

  "You can join with me in spirit, my son," said the friar, "and pray withyour heart."

  "I am sure, gin I but kend the process, I am very willing," saidCharlie. With that he took off his steel belted bonnet, and kneeledreverendly beside the friar, who prayed so fervently and sublimely fordeliverance, that Charlie looked about every minute, not only then, butall that morning, to see by what means they were to be delivered; for hehad no doubt but they would be set free to a certainty, and that in avery short time.

  When they arose, the first word that the friar said was the followingfervent exclamation--"Blessed Virgin! What do I see?"

  Charlie looked all about for some approaching miracle; he had even somehopes of seeing a detachment from the warden's army; but his eye rangedthe dusky fields in vain.

  "What a strange world we live in!" rejoined the friar: "Yea surely thereare things in heaven and in the earth, and in the waters,--yea manythings, of which man knoweth nothing! Why art thou gazing abroad on allnature, my son? Turn thine eyes toward the east, and tell me what thouseest."

  Charlie did so; and, on the instant, the two friends were standing fixedin amazement like two statues. They moved not, save, now and then, tosteal a momentary glance at each other. The great mountain of Eildonwas actually rent in pieces from the top to its very foundations, andpiled up in three towering spiral mountains, as they remain to this day.Only at that time they were taller, darker, and more uniform.

  It was a scene of wonder not to be understood, and awfully impressive.The two rivers flowed down their respective vallies, and met below thecastle like two branching seas, and every little streamlet roared andfoamed like a river. The hills had a wan, bleached appearance, many ofthe trees of the forest were shivered; and, towering up against theeastern sky, there stood the three romantic hills of Eildon, wherebefore there was but one.

  The friar was the first to move from his trance, stepping away in deepmeditation. Charlie was by this time likewise released from the spell,and he ran to the door of the high chamber, calling aloud, "Come a' out,sirs, come a' out. The like o' this was never seen sin the warld stoodup!"

  They came forth accordingly, and their consternation was correspondentto the extraordinary event. But when the Master came out, and saw whatwas done, he shouted, and leaped on the battlement like one frantic,boasting, and uttering words of terrible blasphemy. He looked on themountain of Cope-Law, and he could scarcely believe his eyes when hebeheld it standing in one unskaithed unbroken cone, as it had done forages. He looked again to the three mountains of Eildon, and hisexultation and blasphemous boasting was redoubled.

  "So, all that you and your master can effect," cried he, "is to throw alittle glamour on the sight,--is to practise a little deception! I neverweened the monkish art or profession to consist of more. See what mysovereign and master can do!"

  "Hold there," said the friar. "Who was it that made these mountains atthe first? Was that deception?"

  "It was not thou," said the Master.

  "But who was it, then, that sent up your wicked seneschal into thestormy clouds in a flame of fire?" added the friar. "And who was itthat saved your life, but this morning, from a fiend that would havedevoured you? Were these both deceptions?"

  The Master's countenance fell. The friar said this, because, in theirpresent perilous situation, he wished to keep a little awe over thewizard, and likewise to put a stop to the torrent of blasphemy thatproceeded from his lips.

  The morning advanced, the sun arose, but no assistance, no reliefappeared to our hapless prisoners. They had tasted nothing for a day andnight, save one cup of wine each, and they had not above as much moreremaining. For all this the Master was so much elated, that hisbehaviour was rather like that of a person frantic with joy, than thatof one shut up among others to perish of hunger. His companions inmisfortune noted likewise that he was again disposed to be peremptoryand tyrannical with them, and they dreaded that his familiars were againat his command.

  The men wrought all the forenoon endeavouring to break up the irondoor; but they neither had mattocks nor room to work in, and they madeno more impression on it than as many mice would have done. They werenow quite disconsolate; and, being unable to do aught else, they puzzledthemselves in accounting for the late steward's motives for havinglocked it. They remembered that it was standing wide open when theybrought him up a prisoner before the Master; and they likewiseremembered of having seen him step into that stair for a minute or two,immediately before he began to brave the friar. Therefore, all that theycould guess was, that it had been locked with some fatal intent.

  The friar, perceiving that their efforts were vain, entreated them tocome in from the open air, and keep themselves quiet and cheerful, thatthey might wear the longer. He trusted in Heaven, he said, that theywould be delivered, but in the mean time it was absolutely necessary touse every precaution; and for that purpose, he added, if one of themwould keep watch at each of the four windows, lest any passengers orcountrymen should come near, he would tell them a story, which would atleast have the good effect of keeping them quiet. The Master was quitedelighted with this proposal; and, taking the flagon of wine, heproposed that they should share it among them; but the rest opposed it,and contented themselves with half a cup each.

  Charlie was most of all cast down. He had heard a word from the friarthat morning that sunk deep on his heart. It was something about eatingone another! And not being able to get rid of the thought, he brought itagain overhead. The rest were all struck dumb; for they perceived thatit was but too apparent it might come to that. The Master grinneddarkly, and said it was well. But Gibbie said he hoped, "if things camethat length, they wad draw cuts, that ilka ane might get a fair chancefor his life." The poet begged, with tears in his eyes, that, out ofrespect to the tender sex, they would leave Delany the last, or at leastthat, when the lot fell on her they would take him in her place. Tothis they all agreed with one voice: but an extraordinary thoughtstriking on the Master's mind at that instant, he made a motion, andproposed to settle it off hand by a vote.

  "This maid, whom you term beautiful, is mine on one condition," s
aid he;"and as I can now in a very short time comply with that condition, Iclaim her as my own. I will therefore give her to the man among you whotells me the best tale. She shall be his, fully and freely, to do withher as seemeth him good. And the man among you who tells the worstshall, if need require it, be blooded and flayed in this same chamberfor food to his associates."

  Charlie's blood ran cold within him at this proposal. He almost thoughthe felt the flaying knife and the teeth of the ravenous half-famishedeaters; and when the Master called out, "Approve, or not approve?"Charlie was the first to call out, "O! Not! not, not!" He was secondedby Tam Craik, but all the rest voted on the other side; so that theywere left in the minority, and the matter was finally decided to beprecisely as the Master had proposed. The poet stretched himself, soeager was he to begin; for his heart yearned within him to win thebeautiful Delany. Gibbie was also uplifted, and sure of victory; but Tamand Charlie were both quite hopeless and cast down.