Part 6

Konrad had been dreaming of his home, and these voices came to his slumbering ear in old familiar tones. He had heard the hearty greeting of old Sir Erick Rosenkrantz, and the merry laugh of Anna, as it had sounded in the days of his boyhood and joy; and he heard the murmur of the sea, as, wafted by the summer wind, its waves rolled upon the rocks of Bergen.

The morning breeze from the German ocean roused him from this dreamy lethargy, and for the first time in many weeks he raised his head, and endeavoured to recollect where he was; but the aspect of the little cabin, with its arched deck, and massive beams, confused and puzzled him.

"I am still dreaming," he murmured, and closed his eyes.

He opened them again, but still saw the same objects--the same little cabin, with its pannelled locker--a brass culverin on each side; a crossbow, maul, and helmet hanging on the bulkhead, and the open port affording a glimpse of the shining estuary, with its castled isle, and distant sails, that seemed like white birds resting on the faint and far off horizon.

Steps were heard, and then a stout and thick-set man was seen slowly descending the ladder from the deck. First appeared a pair of broad feet encased in rough leather shoes--then two sturdy legs in brown stockings, gartered with red ribbons; a vast obesity clad in chocolate-coloured breeches, garnished with three dozen of metal knobs at the seams; a waist encircled by a belt, sustaining a Norway knife; then square bulky shoulders in a white woollen jacket, and then a great bullet head, covered by a cap of black fox's fur, under which, on the person turning round, appeared the moonlike face of honest Hans Knuber, open-mouthed and open-eyed--expressive only of good-humour and hilarity; and, where not hidden by his thick red beard, exhibiting a hue that, by exposure to the weather, had turned to something between brick-dust and mahogany.

"Cheerily, ho!" said he, patting Konrad's shoulder with his broad hard hand; "and now, St. Olaus be praised, thou art come to life again! I knew the pure breeze that blew right over the sea from old Norway would revive thee."

"Honest Hans," replied Konrad, in a feeble voice, "I have often heard thy deep tones in the dreams of my sleep, as I thought."

"And so thou wert in a dream, lad--and a plaguy long one! such a dream as the wood-demon used to weave about those who dared to take a nap under his oak. Asleep! why, lad, thou'st been delirious"----

"How! since I came on board thy ship last night, in a plight so pitiful?"

"St. Olaus bless thee, Master Konrad! Thou hast lain by that gun-port for these eight long weeks!"

"Weeks--weeks!" muttered Konrad, pressing his hands on his temples, and endeavouring in vain to recollect himself.

"Ay, weeks; and a sad time we have had of it, with leeching and lancing, drugging and dosing, plastering and patching. Mass! I thought thou would have slipped thy cables altogether, though under the hands of Maitre Picauet." For Hans had spared no expense, and had brought even the royal physician to see his young charge; and so, thanks to the same skill that brought James VI. into the world, and nearly recovered Darnley from the grave, Konrad, when the delirium left him, began to find himself a new man.

"Eight weeks! I remember me now. Thou hadst landed thy cargo of Norway deals from our old pine-woods of Aggerhuis--hazel cuts and harrowbills"----

"Ay, ay; and had stowed on board my new lading, being crammed to the hatches with tanned leather, earthenware, and Scottish beer, wheat and malt, for which I expect to realize a goodly sum in round dollars among the cities on the Sound, where I would long since have furled my topsails, but for a rascally English pirate that hath cruised off the mouth of the fiord (or frith as the Scots call it), and I dared not put to sea, though ready to sail, with the free cocquet of the queen's conservator in my pouch, and my ship hove short upon her cable; for this is my last venture, and under hatches I carry all that must make or mar for ever the fortune of old Hans Knuber."

"Thou didst tell me some news from old Norway, I now remember, on that night Earl Bothwell's page led me here."

"Why, thou wert like the spectre of a drowned man--St. Erick be with us! But here--drain thy cup of barley ptisan, and I will tell thee more in good time."

Konrad drank the decoction prescribed by the physician, and impatiently said--

"Thou sawest my good friend, the old knight Rosenkrantz, I warrant?"

"I did," replied Hans gravely.

"And how looked he?"

"Stiff enow, Master Konrad; for he was lying in his coffin, with his spurs on his heels, and his sword girt about him."

Konrad was thunderstruck, and barely able to articulate; he gazed inquiringly at Hans.

"True it is, this sad story," said the seaman, wiping a tear away with the back of his brawny hand; "thou knowest well how all the province loved the bluff old knight, who was never without a smile or a kind word for the humblest among us; and faith he never allowed old Hans Knuber to pass his hall door without putting a long horn of dricka under his belt. But Sir Erick is gone now, and the king's castle of Bergen (ah! thou rememberest _that_) is a desolate place enough. And honest Sueno Throndson, that most puffy and important of chamberlains, he is gone to his last home too. He went to Zealand in the ship of Jans Thorson, to hang Sir Erick's shield, with all his arms fairly emblazoned thereon, among those of other dead Knights of the Elephant, in the subterranean chapel of Fredericksborg; but Jans, as thou knowest, could never keep a good reckoning, and, by not allowing duly for variation and leeway, was sucked by the moskenstrom, with all his crew, right down into the bowels of the earth. St. Olaus sain them!"

"Poor Sir Erick!" said Konrad, heedless of the fate of Jans, while his tears fell fast.

"Dost thou not know that King Frederick had created him Count of Bergen, and Lord of Welsoeoe, for his services in the old Holstein war?"

"Of all these passages, I have heard nothing."

"His niece, the Lady Anna, will be a countess now, as well as the richest heiress in the kingdom. Baggage that she is! Her uncle never recovered her desertion of his home for the arms of that Scottish lord, whom, if I had him here, I would string up to my gaff peak. By the mass! the old knight's heart was broken, for he loved thee as a son, and Anna as a daughter; but to the devil say I with women, for they all yaw in their course somehow, and require a strong hand at the tiller to make them lie well to the wind. This Anna, God's murrain"----

"Hold thee, Hans Knuber!" said Konrad, with something of his old air of dignity and authority; "for, nevertheless all thy kindness, I will not permit thee to breathe one word that is ungracious of Anna."

"As thou pleasest, lad," replied the seaman, taking off his fur cap to wipe his capacious head; "I thought 'twould relieve thee somewhat to hear one who had so shamefully misused thee roundly cursed."

"Oh no! never!" replied the young man in a low voice; "Oh, Hans! thou knowest not the depth and the enthusiasm of this passion that hath bewitched me. It banishes every angry thought from my mind, and leaves only a sense of desolation and agony, that can never die but with myself."

"Now, by the bones of Lodbrog! but I have no patience with this. How! a bold fellow like thee to be caterwauling thus, like a cat on a gutter? Go to! The Lubeckers and Holsteiners are again displaying their banners on the Elbe and Weser. Assume thy sword and helmet again. Thou hast the world before thee, with a fair wind; and what matters it leaving a false woman and a slighted love behind? Cheerily, ho! Master Konrad; a love that is easily won is lightly lost."

"False as this girl has been to me, Hans, there are times when her bright smile and her winning voice, and all the memory of our happy early days, come back to me in their first freshness and joy, and my soul melts within me. _Then_, Hans--in moments like these--I feel that, were she repentant, I could love her as of old. Oh, yes! I could forgive her--I could press her to my breast, and worship her as I did even in those days that have passed to return no more.

"Well, well--as thou pleasest. Take another gulp of this barley drench--thy ptisan. Get strong and healthy ere we see old Norway, where she is gone before thee with Christian Alborg, in the _Biornen_, and who knoweth what the clouds of futurity may conceal? An old love is easily rekindled, I have heard, though, by the mass! I know little of such gear; though _this_ I know, that the castle of Bergen, with the young countess's lordship of Welsoeoe, would make a very snug roadstead to drop one's anchor in;" and, with a leering wink, Hans Knuber once more clambered to the upper deck, where he drew his fur cap over his bushy brows, thrust his hands into his pockets, and scowled defiance at the small white speck that, near the Isle of May, still marked where the English pirate lay cruising in the offing.

*CHAPTER XI.*

*HOW BOTHWELL MADE USE OF THE BOND.*

I love you better--oh! better far than Woman was ever loved. There's not an hour Of day or dreaming night, but I am with thee; There's not a wind but whispers of thy name, And not a flower that sleeps beneath the moon, But in its hues or fragrance tells a tale Of thee, my love! _Mirandola, a Tragedy._

It was the 23rd of April, four days after the great supper described in chapter 9th, when the queen, without her guard of archers, and accompanied only by a slender retinue, passed along the Stirling road towards Edinburgh. She was mounted on her celebrated white palfrey, with its bridle and housings covered with silver bosses and elaborate embroidery; and with surpassing grace she managed it, the stately animal bowing its arched neck, and champing the burnished bit, as if proud of its beautiful rider.

Mary wore a long and flowing riding-habit of dark cloth, laced with silver about the neck and sleeves. It came close up to her dimpled chin, where a thick frill, or little ruff, stuck stiffly out all round. She had her glossy hair drawn back from her snow-white temples, under her lace cap of widowhood (the far-famed Queen Mary cap), that drooped over her brow, while cocked jauntily a little on one side, she wore one of those small sugar-loaf hats which were then so fashionable. A diamond band encircled it, and a veil of the richest lace danced from it in the evening wind, as she caricoled along the old narrow horseway that wound among the fields near the ancient manor of Sauchton.

She was accompanied by only five attendants, among whom were Huntly, Lethington the secretary, and Sir James Melville of Halhill. With her colour brightened by the exercise of riding, and her eyes sparkling with animation and pleasure, (for she had just been paying a visit to the infant prince at Stirling--a visit fated to be her last,) when her veil was wafted aside, Mary's face seemed to glow with a beauty and vivacity, to which her smart beaver hat lent additional piquancy; and she conversed with more than her usual gaiety and thoughtlessness to the politic Melville, the subtle secretary, and their better man, the stately young chieftain of the house of Gordon. On her wrist sat the gift of her father's aged falconer, (James Lindesay of Westschaw,) one of those beautiful falcons which made their eyry in a perpendicular rock on the West-hill of Alva, where, says the Magister Absalom, never more than one pair have been known to build a nest, even unto this time.

The day was serene; the sun was verging westward, and large masses of shadow lay deepening on the Pentland hills, while the bright flush of the sunlight beamed upon their steep acclivities and heather-brows with a golden tint. The sky was cloudless, and the whole of that magnificent plain, which spreads from the western gates of Edinburgh to those of Glasgow, was clad in all the rural beauty of an early summer. Warmed by the April showers, the trees were putting forth their greenest leaves, and the pink foxglove and blue-bells were bordering the highway; while the wildbrier, the mountain thyme, and the rose of Gueldres, filled the air with perfume.

"Oh joy! how beautiful!" said Mary, as she checked her palfrey on the high and ancient bridge that crossed the Leith near the old baronial manor of the Elphinstones, whose broad dark chimneys were seen peeping above a grove of beeches. "See! yonder is the town, with its castle and St. Giles' spire shining blood-red in the light of the sunset, above the bright green copsewood. And look, Monsieur Huntly, what a delightful little cottage by the side of that river! The green ivy, the wild roses, and the woodbine, are all clambering about its thatched roof--nothing is visible but its little door. Ah, Jane, _ma bonne_!" she exclaimed to her sister Argyle, "how I should love to live there, with nothing to attend to but my flowers and music, and a nice little cow to milk."

"I fear your majesty would soon be ennueeyed to death, and longing for Holyrood, with its floors of oak and walls of velvet tapestry, with your archers at the gate and pages in the corridor," replied the grave Lethington, with a smile of something between amusement and sarcasm at the simplicity of the young queen.

At the cottage door an old woman was sprinkling water on a herd of cattle, with broom dipped from time to time in a tub, at the bottom of which lay a perforated stone, which was deemed a sovereign remedy against all witchcraft; but, suddenly ceasing her employment, she curtsied lowly to the lady, of whose exalted rank she was ignorant.

The scenery was very fine, for the country was then more thickly wooded almost than now, and afar off shone the rugged outline of Edinburgh, rearing up on its ridgy hills, with the great square spire of its cathedral, and the lofty towers and bastel-houses of its castle, clustering on lofty and perpendicular rocks. Close by the road, arose the double peaks of Craiglockhart; one covered with pastures of emerald green, the other bluff with whin-tufted basalt, and crowned with gloomy firs; while, following its winding and devious course, the Leith brawled and gurgled over its pebbled bed. Brightly the sunlight danced upon the dimpled water; already in blossom, the lilac groves that shaded it were filling the air with fragrance; their white and purple flowers being at times relieved by the pale green of the willow, the golden laburnum, and the pink cups of the wild-roses; while every flower and blade of grass were glittering in the early dew of the April evening. Unseen, amid the thick foliage that bordered the highway, a thousand birds were filling the air with a melody, that died away even as the sun's rays died upon the distant hills, and the saffron glow of the west assumed the sombre tint of the gloaming.

The young Highland earl, who rode by Mary's side, was charmed with her vivacity, and conversed with her alone; while the more phlegmatic Lethington and Melville jogged together a few paces behind, very intent on their own intrigues and correspondence with Elizabeth of England, with Cecil, and with Killigrew; both of whom, though able statesmen and subtle politicians, will be found, if tried by the rules of justice and honour, the greatest villains that ever breathed. The beauty of the scenery, and the buoyancy of the air, raised Mary's vivacity, and increased her brilliant wit; and she often made the thickets echo with her musical laugh, or a verse of a merry French song; till a sudden turn of the road brought them full in view of a sight that made her utter a faint cry of alarm, rein up her palfrey with one hand, and with the other grasp the arm of Huntly, who instantly drew his sword.

Right across that narrow path was drawn up the imposing line of a thousand horsemen in close array, all sheathed in armour, with the points of their uplifted lances, their breastplates, and conical helmets, glittering in the setting sun. Their flanks, which extended into the fields on each side, were well thrown forward, so as completely to encircle the terrified queen and her little retinue. A few yards in front were two knights with their visors up; one bore a standard displaying two Scottish lions rending a red rose, and by his sable armour, his negro-like visage, and colossal frame, all recognised Hob of Ormiston; but in the other, whose light suit of mail, engrained with gold, was white as winter frost, and reached only to the knees of his scarlet hose, they knew the Earl of Bothwell. He leaped from his horse, and, drawing off his right gauntlet, advanced reverentially towards the queen on foot.

"What foul treason is meditated here?" asked Huntly sternly, as the Earl passed him.

"None; but thou shalt see," replied the other with a smile, "that I will now wed the queen--yea, _whether she will or not_!"[*]

[*] See Melville.

"Now by my father's soul!" began Huntly furiously.

"How!" said Secretary Lethington, with one of his cold and placid smiles; "has your lordship already forgotten the supper, and the bond?"

"Jesu Maria!" muttered Huntly; "I foresaw not this!"

"Your grace will hold me excused," said the Earl of Bothwell, grasping the bridle of Mary's palfrey; "but your own safety and the commonweal require that I should, without a moment's delay, lead you to my castle of Dunbar."

"Mother of God! How--why?" asked Mary in an agitated voice, as she gazed on the face of the Earl, which was pale as death; for the magnitude of the crime he contemplated, had for a moment appalled even himself. "With what am I menaced? Is there a raid among the Lennox men--an invasion of the English--or what? Who is my enemy?"

"James of Bothwell, as this sword shall prove!" exclaimed the young Earl of Huntly, making a furious blow at the noble's tempered helmet--a blow that must have cloven him to the chin, had not Bolton and Hob Ormiston crossed their lances, and interfered with the speed of light; but Hob's tough ash standard pole was cut in two.

"Mass!" he exclaimed; "now hold thee, Earl Huntly, or, with my jeddart staff, I will deal thee a dirl on the crown that will hang a scutcheon on the gate of castle Gordon for the next year."

The horsemen closed up with levelled lances, and the gentlemen of the queen's train were immediately disarmed.

"To Dunbar! to Dunbar!" cried Bothwell, leaping on horseback, but still retaining the queen's bridle.

"For what end, Lord Earl, and for what purpose, am I to be thus escorted, or made captive, I know not which? Tell me, I implore--nay, I demand of thee as my liegeman and vassal?"

"I refer your majesty to my advisers here present, to the Earl of Huntly and the Knight of Lethington; but fear not, dearest madam, for I am devoted to you in body and in soul, and I swear to you by the four blessed gospels, that I have only your weal at heart. Oh, come with me--come without resistance; for resistance would be vain!"

"Darest thou to say so?"

"Pardon me; but once within the gates of Dunbar, that stately castle with which thou didst so graciously gift me, I will tell thee all. On, on--knights and horsemen! for the night is closing fast, and I can foresee that, natheless the beauty of this April eve, we shall have a storm of no common potency."

Mary's pride, which never for a moment deserted her, impelled resistance; her dark eyes filled with fire; she grew very pale; her beautiful mouth expressed all the scorn and anger that swelled up in her breast, and she endeavoured to snatch her bridle from the hand of the Earl; but at that moment the soft persuasive voice of Secretary Maitland addressed her, and his hand touched her arm lightly. He spoke in an under tone, and what he said was unheard by the Earl; but his wily eloquence was never exercised in vain, and that tact which bent the most stubborn nobles to his purpose, was not likely to prove ineffectual upon the too facile and gentle Mary.

"Be it so!" she replied with hauteur. "_De tout, mon coeur_! I will bide my time; but, Sir William of Lethington, if this raid should prove as my mind misgiveth me, by every blessed saint my vengeance will be terrible!"

The cold statesman bowed with one of his inexplicable smiles as he reined back his horse; and then, by the command of Bothwell, the whole train set forward at a furious pace, which the Earl had no wish to diminish, for the double purpose of avoiding the alternate questions, threats, and intreaties of the queen, and escaping the fury of a sudden storm, that, with singular rapidity, had converted that beautiful evening into one of darkness and gloom.

Agitated, by turns, with astonishment, vexation, indignation, and fear, the queen rode on, reserving her enquiries till they should reach Dunbar.

But why to Dunbar, and not to Holyrood?

A thousand terrors and fancies flitted across her mind. Perhaps the principal nobles had again leagued to slay her, as they had done when her brother rose in rebellion; perhaps he was again in arms, with Lindesay, Glencairn, and all the furious upholders of that new doctrine, which she openly feared and secretly abhored.

The clank of a thousand suits of armour, and the rush of four times that number of galloping hoofs on the hard dusty road, stunned and confused her; while the figures of the mail-clad riders, their tall lances, and Bothwell's rustling banner, the hills and copsewood that overhung their way, grew darker and duskier as the sky became veiled by the heavy clouds that came up in masses from the German sea.

The summits of the mountains were veiled in descending mist; the air became close and still, and afar off the broad red gleams of the sheet lightning brightened in the sky, revealing in bold outline the ridges of the distant hills, and the waving woods that crowned their summits.

Edinburgh, with its walls and gates, was left behind in night and obscurity; the marshes of Restalrig, where every moment their chargers floundered to the girths; the dreary Figgate whins, where every pace was encumbered with roots and other remains of an old primeval forest; and the ruined chapel of Mary Magdalene--were passed; and the captive queen, with her escort, were galloping along that far expanse of sandy beach, where the white-crested waves rolled with a sullen boom on the desert shore.

Now the clanging hoofs rang like thunder on the broad flagged pavement of the ancient Roman way, that led directly over the picturesque old bridge built by the soldiers of Agricola, and where a strong iron gate, erected transversely across the centre arch, closed the passage after nightfall. But a blast from Ormiston's bugle-horn summoned the gateward, cowering and shivering from his seat by the ingle; for now, from the darkened sky, the heavy rain was pattering upon the hurrying river. At the imperious command, to "make way for the Lord Earl of Bothwell!" the barrier was instantly unclosed, and on swept the train in all its military show, each horseman stooping his helmeted head, and lowering the point of his long Scottish spear, as he passed under the low-browed gate, and wheeled to the left, by the base of the mound, where still the Roman trenches lay, as strong and as visible as when the cohorts of the empire raised there a temple to "Apollo, the long-haired."