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S. R. Crockett - The Black Douglas

S >> S. R. Crockett >> The Black Douglas




"I pray you remember that Edinburgh is a turbulent city and little
inclined to love your great house. Is it, think you, wise to go
thither with so small a retinue?"

The Earl waved his hand carelessly.

"I am not afraid," he said; "besides, what harm can befall when I
lodge in the castle of the Lord Chancellor of Scotland?"

Crichton bowed very low.

"What harm, indeed?" he said; "I did but advise your lordship to
bethink himself. I am an old man, pray remember--fast growing feeble
and naturally inclined to overmuch caution. But the blood flows hot
through the veins of eighteen."

Sholto, who knew nothing of these happenings, had just finished
exercising his men on the smooth green in front of the Castle of
Crichton, and had dismissed them, when a gaberlunzie or privileged
beggar, a long lank rascal with a mat of tangled hair, and clad in a
cast-off leathern suit which erstwhile some knight had worn under his
mail, leaped suddenly from the shelter of a hedge. Instinctively
Sholto laid his hand on his dagger.

"Nay," snuffled the fellow, "I come peaceably. As you love your lord
hasten to give him this letter. And, above all, let not the Crichton
see you."

He placed a small square scrap of parchment in Sholto's hand. It was
sealed in black wax with a serpent's head, and from the condition of
the outside had evidently been in places both greasy and grimy. Sholto
put it in his leathern pouch wherein he was used to keep the hone for
sharpening his arrows, and bestowed a silver groat upon the beggar.

"Thy master's life is surely worth more than a groat," said the man.

"I warrant you have been well enough paid already," said Sholto, "that
is, if this be not a deceit. But here is a shilling. On your head be
it, if you are playing with Sholto MacKim!"

So saying the captain of the guard strode within. He had already
acquired the carriage and consequence of a veteran old in the wars.

His master was still pacing up and down the courtyard, deep in
meditation. Sholto saluted the young Earl and asked permission to
speak a word with him.

"Speak on, Sholto--well do you know that at all times you may say what
you will to me."

"But this I desire to keep from prying eyes. My lord, there is a
letter in my wallet which was given me even now by a gaberlunzie man.
He declares that it concerns your life. I pray you take out my hone
stone as if to look at it, and with it the letter."

The Earl nodded, as if Sholto had been making a report to him. Then he
went nearer and began to finger his squire's accoutrements, finally
opening his belt pouch and taking out the stone that was therein.

"Where gat you this hone!" he said, holding it to the light; "it looks
not the right blue for a Water-of-Ayr stone."

Sholto answered that it came from the Parton Hills, and, as the Earl
replaced it, he possessed himself of the square letter and thrust it
into the bosom of his doublet.

As soon as William Douglas was alone, he broke the seal and tore open
the parchment. It was written in a delicate foreign script, the
characters fine and small:

"My lord, do not, I beseech you, come to Edinburgh or think
of me more. Last night my Lord of Retz spied upon us and
this morning he hath carried me off. Wherever you are when
you receive this, turn instantly and ride with all speed to
one of your strong castles. As you love me, go! We can never
hope to see one another again. Forget an unfortunate girl
who can never forget you."

There was no signature saving the impression of the joined serpents'
heads, which he remembered as the signet of the ring he had found and
given back to her on the day of the tournament.

"I will never give her up. I must see her," cried the Earl of Douglas,
"and this very day. Aye, and though I were to die for it on the
morrow, see her I will!"




CHAPTER XXXII

"EDINBURGH CASTLE, TOWER, AND TOWN"


It was with an anxious heart that Sholto rode out behind his master
over the bald northerly slopes of the Moorfoots. For a long time David
Douglas kept close to his brother, so that the captain of the guard
could speak no private word. For, though he knew that nothing was to
be gained by remonstrance, Sholto was resolved that he would not let
his reckless master run unwarned into danger so deadly and certain.

He rode up, therefore, and craved permission to speak to the Earl,
seizing an occasion when David had fallen a little behind.

"Thou art a true son of Malise MacKim, whatever thy mother may aver,"
cried the Earl. "I'll wager a gold angel thou art going to say
something shrewdly unpleasant. That great lurdain, thy father, never
asks permission to speak save when he has stilettos rankling where his
honest tongue should be."

"My lord," said Sholto, "bear a word from one who loves you. Go not
into this town of Edinburgh. Or at least wait till you can ride
thither with three thousand lances as did your father, and his father
before him."

The Earl laughed merrily and clapped his young knight on the
shoulder.

"Did you not tell me the same ere we came to the Castle of Crichton,
and lo! there we were ten days in the place and not a man-at-arms
within miles except your own Galloway varlets! Sholto, my lad, we
might have sacked the castle, rolled all the platters down the slopes
into the Tyne, and sent the cooks trundling after them, for all that
any one could have done to stop us. Yet here are we riding forth,
feathers in our bonnets, swords by our sides, panged full of the
Chancellor's good meat and drink, and at once, as soon as we are gone,
Sholto MacKim begins the same old discontented corbie's croak!"

"But, my lord, 'tis a different matter yonder. The Castle of Edinburgh
is a strong place with many courts and doors--a hostile city round
about, not a solitary castle like Crichton. They may separate you from
us, and we may be able neither to save you nor yet to die with you, if
the worst comes to the worst."

"I may inform you as well soon as syne, you waste your breath,
Sholto," said Earl Douglas, "and it ill becomes a young knight, let me
tell you, to be so chicken-hearted. The next time I will leave you at
home to hem linen for the bed-sheets. Malise is a licensed croaker,
but I thought better of you, Master Sholto MacKim!"

The captain of the Earl's guard looked on the ground and his heart was
distressed within him. Yet, in spite of the raillery of the Douglas,
he resolved to make one more effort.

"My lord," he said, "you know not the full hatred of these men against
your house. What other object save the destruction of the Douglas can
have drawn together foes so deadly as Crichton and Livingston? At
least, my lord, if you are set on risking your own life, send back one
of us with your brother David!"

Then cried out David Douglas, who had joined them during the converse,
against so monstrous a proposal.

"I will not go back in any case," said the lad; "William has the
earldom and the titles. I may at least be allowed part of the fun.
Sholto, if William dies without heirs and I become Earl, my first act
will be to hang you on the dule tree with a raven on either side, for
a slow-bellied knave and prophet of evil!"

The Earl looked at his brother and seemed to hesitate.

"There is something in what you say, Sholto."

"My lord, if the blow fall, let not your line be wholly cut off. I
pray you let five good lads ride straight for Douglasdale with David
in the midst--"

"Sholto," cried the boy, "I will not go back, nor be a palterer, all
because you are afraid for your own skin!"

"My place is with my master," said Sholto, curtly, and the boy looked
ashamed for a moment; but he soon recovered himself and returned to
the charge.

"Well, then, 'tis because you want to see Maud Lindesay that you are
so set on returning. I saw you kiss Maud's hand in the dark of the
stairs. Aha! Master Sholto, what say you now?"

"Hold your tongue, David," cried his brother; "you might have seen him
kiss yet more pleasantly, and yet do no harm. But, after all, you and
I are Douglases and our star is in the zenith. We will fall together,
if fall we must. Not a word more about it. David, I will race you to
yonder dovecot for a golden lion."

"Done with you!" cried his brother, joyously, and in an instant spurs
were into the flanks of their horses, and the young men flew
thundering over the green turf, riding swiftly into the golden haze
from which rose ever higher and higher the dark towers of the Castle
of Edinburgh.

Past grey peel and wind-swept fortalice the young Lords of Douglas rode
that autumn day, gaily as to a wedding, on their way to place
themselves in the power of their house's enemies. The sea plain
pursued them, flecked green and purple on their right hand. Little
ships floated on the smooth surface of the firth, hardly larger in
size than the boats of fisher folk, yet ships withal which had
adventured into far seas and brought back rich produce into the barren
lands of the Scots.

At last they entered the demesne of Holyrood, and saw the deer
crouching and basking about the copses or scampering over the broomy
knowes of the Nether Hill. As they came near to the Canongate Port,
they saw a gallant band gaily dressed coming forth to meet them, and
the Earl's eye brightened as it caught in the midst the glint of
ladies' attiring.

"See, Sholto," he cried, "and repent! Yonder is not a single lance
shining, and you cannot turn your grumbling head but you will see nigh
two score, with a stout Douglas heart bumping under each."

"Ah," said Sholto, without joy or conviction, "but we are neither in
nor yet out of this weary town of Edinburgh!"

As the cavalcade approached, there came a boy on a pony at speed
towards them. He carried a switch in his hand, and with it he urged
his little beast to still greater endeavours.

"The King!" cried David, cheerfully. "I heard he was a sturdy brat
enough!"

And in another moment the two young men of the dominant house were
taking off their bonnets to the boy who, in name at least, was their
sovereign and overlord.

"Hurrah!" cried the lad, as he circled about them, reckless and
irresponsible as a sea-gull, "I am so glad, so very glad you have
come. I like you because you are so bold and young. I have none about
me like you. You will teach me to ride a tourney. I have been hearing
all about yours at Thrieve from the Lady Sybilla. I wish you had asked
me. But now we shall be friends, and I will come and stay long months
with you all together--that is, if my mother will let me."

All this the young King shouted as he ranged alongside of the two
brothers, and rode with them towards the city.

King James II. of Scotland was at this time an open-hearted boy, with
no evident mark of the treachery and jealous fury which afterwards
distinguished him as a man. The schooling of Livingston, his tutor,
had not yet perverted his mind (as it did too soon afterwards), and he
welcomed the young Douglases as the embodiment of all that was great
and knightly, noble and gallant, in his kingdom.

"Yesterday," he began, as soon as he had subdued the ardour of his
frolicsome little steed to a steadier gait, varied only by an
occasional curvet, "yesterday I was made to read in the Chronicles of
the Kings of Scotland, and lo, it was the Douglas did this and the
Douglas said that, till I cried out upon Master Kennedy, 'Enough of
Douglases--I am a Stewart. Read me of the Stewarts.' Then gave Master
Kennedy a look as when he laughs in his sleeve, and shook his head.
'This book concerneth battles,' said he, 'and not gear, plenishing,
and tocher. The Douglas won for King Robert his crown, the Stewart
only married his daughter--though that, if all tales be true, was the
braver deed!' Now that was no reverent speech to me that am a Stewart,
nor yet very gallant to my great-grandmother, was it, Earl Douglas?"

"It was no fine courtier's flattery, at any rate," said the Douglas,
his eyes wandering hither and thither across the cavalcade which they
were now meeting, in search of the graceful figure and darkly splendid
head of the girl he loved.

The Lady Sybilla was not there.

"They have secluded her," he muttered, in sharp jealous anger; "'tis
all her kinsman's fault. He hath the marks of a traitor and worse. But
they shall not spite nor flout the Douglas."

So with a countenance grave and unresponsive he saluted Livingston the
tutor, who came forth to meet him. The Chancellor was expected
immediately, for he had ridden in more rapidly by the hill way in
order that he might welcome his notable guests to the metropolitan
residence of the Kings of Scotland.

The Castle of Edinburgh was at that time in the fulness of its
strength and power. The first James had greatly enlarged and
strengthened its works defensive. He had added thirty feet to the
height of David's Tower, which now served as a watch-station over all
the rock, and in his last days he had begun to build the great hall
which the Chancellor had but recently finished.

It was here that presently the feast was set. The banquet-hall ran the
width of the keep, and the raised dais in the centre was large enough
to seat the whole higher baronage of Scotland, among whom (as the Earl
of Douglas thought with some scorn) neither of his entertainers,
Crichton and Livingston, had any right to place themselves.

But the question where the Lady Sybilla was bestowed soon occupied the
Douglas more than any thought of his own safety or of the loyalty of
his entertainers. Sybilla, however, was neither in the courtly
cavalcade which met them at the entrance of the park, nor yet among
the more numerous ladies who stood at the castle yett to welcome to
Edinburgh the noble and handsome young lords of the South.

Douglas therefore concluded that de Retz, discovering some part of the
love that was between them, or mayhap hearing of it from some spy or
other at Crichton Castle, had secluded his sweetheart. He loosened his
hand on the rein to lay it on the sword-hilt, as he thought of this
cruelty to a maid so pure and fair.

Sholto kept his company very close behind him as they rode up the
High-street, a gloomy defile of tall houses dotted from topmost window
to pavement with the heads of chattering goodwives, and the flutter of
household clothing hung out to dry.

At the first defences of the castle Douglas called Sholto and said:
"Your fellows are to be lodged here on the Castle Hill. The Chancellor
hath sent word that there is no room in the castle itself. For the
tutor's men and King's men have already filled it to the brim."

These tidings agonised Sholto more than ever.

"My lord," he said, in a tortured whisper, "turn about your rein and
we will cut our way out even yet. Do you not see that the devils would
separate you from all who love you? And I shall be blamed for this in
Galloway. At least, let me accompany you with half a dozen men."

"Nay," said the Earl, "such suspicion were a poor return for the
Chancellor's putting himself in our hands all the days we spent with
him at his Castle of Crichton. To your lodgings, Sholto, and give God
thanks if there be therein a pretty maid or a dame complaisant,
according to the wont of young squires and men-at-arms."

In this fashion rode the Earl of Douglas to take his first dinner in
the Castle of Edinburgh. And Sholto MacKim went behind him, no man
saying him nay. For his master had eyes only for one face, and that he
could not see.

"But I shall find her yet," he said over and over in his heart. It was
but a boyish heart, and simple, too; but all so brave and high that
the gallantest and greatest gentleman in the world had not one like to
it for loyalty and courage.




CHAPTER XXXIII

THE BLACK BULL'S HEAD


The banqueting-hall of Edinburgh Castle, but lately out of artificers'
hands, was a noble oblong chamber reaching from side to side of the
south-looking keep, begun by James I. It was decorated in the French
manner with oak ceilings and panellings, all bossed and cornered with
massive silver-gilt mouldings.

Save in the ordering of the repast itself there was a marked absence
of ostentation. Only a soldier or two could be seen, mostly on guard
at the outer gates, and Sholto, who till now had been uneasy and
fearful for his master, became gradually more reassured when he saw
with what care every want of the Earl and his brother was attended to,
and if possible even forestalled.

The young King was in jubilant spirits, and could scarcely be
persuaded to let the brothers Douglas remain a moment alone. He was
resolved, he said, to have his bed brought into their chamber that he
might talk to them all night of tourneys and noble deeds of arms.
Never had he met with any whom he loved so much, and on their part the
young Lords of Douglas became boys again, in this atmosphere of frank
and boyish admiration.

It was a state banquet to which they sat down. That is, there was no
hungry crowd of hangers-on clustered below the salt. To each
gentleman was allotted a silver trenchard for his own use, instead of
one betwixt two as was the custom. The service was ordered in the
French manner, and there was manifest through all a quiet observance
and good taste which won upon the Earl of Douglas. Nevertheless, his
eyes still continued to range this way and that through the castle,
scanning each tower, glancing up at every balcony and archway, in
search of the Lady Sybilla.

In the banquet-hall the little King sat on his high chair in the
midst, with the brothers of Douglas one on either side of him. He
spoke loudly and confidently after the manner of a pampered boy of
high spirits.

"I will soon come and visit you in return at the Castle of Thrieve.
The Lady Sybilla hath told me how strong it is and how splendid are
the tourneys there, as grand, she swears, as those of France."

"The Lady Sybilla is peradventure gone to her own land?" ventured
Douglas, not wishing to ask a more direct question. He spoke freely,
however, on all other subjects with the King, laughing and talking
mostly with him, and finding little to say to the tutor Livingston or
the Chancellor, who, either from humility or from fear, had taken care
to interpose half a dozen knights between himself and his late guests.

"Nay," cried the young King, looking querulously at his tutor, "but,
indeed, I wot not what they have done with my pretty gossip, Sybilla;
I have not seen her for three weeks, save for a moment this morning.
And before she went away she promised to teach me to dance a coranto
in the French manner, and the trick of the handkerchief to hide a
dagger in the hand."

As the Earl listened to the boy's prattle, he became more and more
convinced that the Marshal de Retz, having in some way discovered
their affection for each other, had removed Sybilla out of his reach.
Her letter, indeed, showed clearly that she was in fear of
ill-treatment both for himself and for her.

The banquet passed with courtesies much more elaborate than was usual
in Scotland, but which indicated the great respect in which the
Douglases were held. Between each course a servant clad in the royal
colours presented a golden salver filled with clear water for the
guests to wash their hands. Through the interstices of the ceiling
strains of music filtered down from musicians hidden somewhere above,
which sounded curiously soothing and far away.

The Chancellor bowed and drank every few minutes to the health of the
Earl and his brother across the board, while the tutor sat smiling
upon all with the polish of a professional courtier. In his high seat
at the table end the little King chatted incessantly of the times when
he could do as he pleased, and when he and his cousin of Douglas would
ride together to battle and tourney, or feast together in hall.

"Be sure, then, I will not keep all these grey-beard sorners about
me," he said, lowering his voice cautiously; "I will only have young
gallant men like you and David there. But what comes here?"

There was a stir among the servitors at the upper end of the room.
Sholto, who stood behind his master's chair, heard the skirl of the
war-pipes approach nearer. It grew louder, more insistent, finally
almost oppressive. The doors at either end were filled with armed
men. They filed silently into the hall in dark armour, all carrying
shining Lochaber axes.

Douglas leaned back in his chair, and looked nonchalantly on like a
spectator of a pageant. He continued to talk to the King easily and
calmly, as if he were in his own Castle of Thrieve. But Sholto saw the
white and ghastly look on the face of the Chancellor, and noted his
hands nervously grip the table. He observed him also lean across and
confer with Livingston, who nodded like one that agrees that the
moment of action has come.

At the upper end of the hall were wide folding doors which till now
had been shut. These were opened swiftly, either half falling back to
the wall. And through the archway came two servitors in black habits,
carrying between them on a huge platter of silver a black bull's head,
ghastly and ominous even in death, with staring eyeballs and matted
frontlet of ensanguined hair.

"Treachery!" instantly cried Sholto, and ere the men could approach he
had drawn his sword and stood ready to do battle for his lord. For
throughout all Scotland a bull's head served at table is the symbol of
death.

The Earl did not move or speak. He watched the progress of the men in
black, who staggered under their heavy burden. David also had risen to
his feet with his hand on his sword, but William Douglas sat still.
Alarm, wonder, and anxiety chased each other across the face of the
young King.

"What is this, Chancellor--why is the room filled with armed men?" he
cried.

But Crichton had withdrawn himself behind the partisans of his
soldiers, and down the long table there was not a man but had risen
and bared his sword. Every eye was turned upon the young Earl. A score
of men-at-arms came forward to seize him.

"Stand back on your lives!" cried Sholto, sweeping his blade about him
to keep a space clear about his youthful master.

But still the Earl William sat calm and unmoved, though all others had
risen to their feet and held arms in their hands.

"What means this mumming?" he said, high and clear. "If a mystery is
to be played, surely it were better to put it off till after dinner."

Then through the open doorway came a voice piercing and reedy.

"The play is played indeed, William of Douglas, and the lion is now
safe in the power of the dogs. How like you our kennel, most mighty
lion?"

It was the voice of the Chancellor Crichton.

The young King came running from his place and threw his arms about
the Earl's neck.

"I am the King," he cried; "not one of you shall touch or hurt my
cousin Douglas!"

"Stand back, James," said the tutor Livingston; "the Douglas is a
traitor, and you shall never reign while he rules. He and his brother
must be tried for treason. They have claimed the King's throne, and
usurped his authority."

Sholto MacKim turned about. In all that threatening array of armed men
no friendly eye met his, and none of all he had trusted drew a blade
for the Douglas. Sholto stood calculating the chances. To die like a
man was easy, but how to die to some purpose seemed more difficult.
He saw the King with his arm about the neck of William Douglas, who
remained quietly in his place with a pale but assured countenance.

It was Sholto's only chance. With his left hand he seized the young
King by the collar of his doublet, and set the point of his sword to
his back between the shoulder-blades.

"Now," he cried, "let a man lay hand on my Lord Douglas and I will
slay the King!"

At this there was great consternation, and but for fear of Sholto's
keeping his word half a score would have rushed forward to the
assistance of the boy. The scream of a woman from some concealed
portal showed that the Queen Mother was waiting to witness the
downfall of the mighty house which, as she had been taught, alone
threatened her boy's throne.

Sholto's arm was already drawn back for the thrust, when the voice of
the Earl of Douglas was heard. He had risen to his feet, and now stood
easy and careless as ever, with his thumb in the blue silken sash
which girt his waist.

"Sholto," he said calmly, "you forget your place. Let the King go
instantly, and ask his Majesty's pardon. Set your sword again in its
sheath. I am your lord. I dubbed you knight. Do as I command you."

Most unwillingly Sholto did as he was bidden, and the King, instead of
withdrawing, placed himself still closer to William of Douglas.

"And now," cried the Earl, facing the array of armed men who thronged
the banquet-hall, "what would ye with the Douglas? Do ye mean my
death, as by the Bull's Head here on the table ye would have me
believe?"

"For black treason do we apprehend you, Earl of Douglas," creaked the
voice of the Chancellor, still speaking from behind his array of
men-at-arms, "and because you have set yourself above the King. But we
are no butchers, and trial shall ye have by your peers."

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