CHAPTER XVII.

CLERMISTONLEE MAKES A SAD MISTAKE.

But if this young lady will marry you, and relieve us, O my conscience! I'll turn friend to the sex, and rail no more at matrimony.--THE LYING VALET.

Issuing from a private gate in the northern flank of the city wall, at the foot of the court attached to his mansion, the Lord and his staunch follower mounted in a narrow lane, overhung on one side by gloomy trees, and on the other by the ancient hospital of the Holy Trinity. The great oriel, or triple window of its church was then faintly lighted by the beams of the rising moon, the silver disk of which seemed to rest on the sable ridge of Arthur's Seat. They passed through the Calton, then a straggling burgh, consisting of antique houses of Flemish aspect, but occupied by a very inferior class of citizens, and entered the long and solitary path called Leith Loan, which was formed by an ancient trench of the Great Civil Wars; hollowly rang their horses' hoofs between the black rocks of the Calton on one hand, and the steep bank of St. Ninian on the other, where the ivied and shattered walls of a convent presented in the bright moonlight a striking variety of light and shade.

To avoid every chance of recognition or surprise, Clermistonlee thus made a complete circuit of the city, leaving it on the side opposite to the scene of his operations. The night soon became as cloudy and dark as he could have wished it, for, as the fitful moon became involved in opaque masses of vapour, every object was rendered obscure and indistinct. On one side of the way lay the lake, like a sheet of ink, and beyond it rose up the stupendous cliffs and ramparts of the castle, and the gigantic outline of the city towering like a mighty bank of cloud, through which the lights of distant casements glimmered like far and fitful stars. On the other side spread open fields and solitary farms; the castles of the Touris of Inverleith, the Kincaids of Warriston, and two or three small and lonely hamlets.

"Clermistonlee," began Juden, closing up to his master as the Long Gate became darker and more lonely, for the cottages of St. Ninian were now far behind; "If the auld witch, Elshender, by kecking through a spule bane should divine our errand, our riding will be to little purpose I reckon. She is an unco uncanny body, Lucky Elsie, and though her gudeman was a trooper, and did richt leal service in King Charles' wars, I would fain see her brought to the tar-barrel, for, wow, but I hate an auld blench-lippit, long-chaffit, sunk-eyed carlin, as I do sour ale or the deil."

The Lord vouchsafed no reply to these sapient remarks, and Juden, feeling somewhat uneasy at his silence, the darkness, and their vicinity to the old Cross-kirk of St. Cuthbert, with its great square central tower and broad burial grounds, studded with mossy tombstones and slabs half sunk in the long reedy grass, spurred nearer and spoke again.

"And then to think o' Meg, puir beastie! to fa' ill o' the wheezlock, the malanders, and deil kens a' what, the very night ye trampled down that auld cummer's kailcastocks, and wi' this match wi' Holsterlee to come off at Easter! Troth, my Lord Mersington has thumbscrewed and tar-barrelled scores o' auld besoms on the half o' sic evidence o' malice, and ungodly ill will. And I would beg o' you to gie Mersington a hint, that she was the gossip of Helen of Peaston, who was burned ten years byegone. Od's fish! I saw the brodder o' the High Court run his steel pricker thrice into Belzeebub's mark on her bare back--a lang black teat whereat she suckled Hornie's imps, and she neither winced nor skirled. And for what I would like mickle to ken----"

"Silence."

"Doth not this auld deevil, Elshender, deserve the tar-barrel as weel as her neighbour cummer."

"I tell thee, silence! Blow the match that must light the link."

"The link--now?"

"Thou hast it I hope, pumpkin-head?"

"Yes--yes, my Lord--but wow I wish this desperate job weel oure."

"Art getting white-livered? Is this our first affair of the kind?"

"What, if the coach with the skeleton Lady cam' rumbling up Leith loan after us! It is about her hour noo. Burn my beard, if I wadna die o' sheer fright."

"Would to Heaven she came then, and rid me of a thorough household pest."

"Ay, ay, but ye would sune find the want o' puir auld Juden. Wha would spice the Canary and Rochelle, mull the sack and sugar the brandy like me? Wha then would doctor your nags, break your hounds, and train your hawks wi' leash and lure, and do everything ye can think o', frae birselling a crail capon to backing a troop-horse, and frae brushing your spurleathers, to being your staunch henchman on sic a hillicate errand as this? Hech, Sir! I am picking up my thanks now for standing by ye wi' buff and bilbo on many a stormy day, fighting now for the kirk and then for the king--a bab o' blue ribbons in my bonnet to-day, a cavalier's white feather the morn, just as it suited you to uphold one banner because the other was like to be beaten down."

"Rascal! let these be the last of those impertinent reflections which you permit yourself to make on my conduct. Recollect that as my bounden vassal, my will is thine, my word thy law--enough--and seek not as usual, old Mr. pertinacity, to have the last word with me."

"I am mum, my Lord." Juden checked his horse and fell to the rear in high dudgeon.

Making a complete circuit of the suburbs, they crossed the Burghmuir, where the turrets of Bruntisfield rose above the dark oaks of the olden time. Clermistonlee took a long survey of the stately old mansion and its domain, and greatly refreshed with the noble aspect thereof, pushed on with increased speed.

When they approached the little cottage it was dark and silent as the ruined chapel beside it, and the beechen grove which overshadowed them both. The smoke of the rested night fire curled up pale and grey among the dark copsewood, from the massive clay-built chimney, but there was no other sign of life within. Concealing their horses behind a thick privet hedge, the conspirators approached the cottage, Clermistonlee unrolling an ample rocquelaure of scarlet cloth to throw over Lilian as a muffler, the moment she rushed forth to escape the conflagration.

"The hut is very still," said the Lord. "Zounds! if she should be gone away."

"Impossible," responded Juden. "Jock, my sister's son, watched the place until mirk night came on. But hear me--one word, my Lord, ere we come to the onset?"

"What the deuce is it now, thou most incorrigible prater?"

"Would it no be better to ding up the door and carry the lady off before I fire the bit placie, lest the flame bring those who might strike in to the rescue?"

"True, Juden, you speak sensibly for once," replied his master, who staggered a little in consequence of his recent potations, and felt no ordinary excitement as the moment approached, when he hoped to clasp Lilian Napier in his arms, and bear her off in triumph. Clermistonlee had long been the wildest gallant of his time, and in such a desperate affair as this he felt quite in his element.

Poising a large stone aloft, he hurled it against the door with all the impetus he could lend it; but the barrier yielded not. An exclamation, half smothered in the depths of a box-bed, showed that the inmates were sufficiently alarmed by the thundering shock, and poor Elsie lay quaking under the bed-clothes, in full conviction that the devil and his elvish drummer to boot, were about to force an entrance. Again and again Lord Clermistonlee hurled it against the cottage door; but it remained fast as a rock, for several strong bars of wood inserted in the massive wall, gave it all that security which was then as necessary to the hut as to the palace. Juden raised aloft the flaring link, and its light streamed by fits on the thatched roof and whitewashed walls, on the divot seat in front, with woodbine and wild rose-tree clambering above it; on the high beech trees that spread their arms to the night wind, scaring the rooks from their leafless nests, and the sparrows from the thick warm thatch which the blazing link menaced every instant.

"Reif and roist the obstinate yett!" exclaimed Juden, capering as the stone rolled back upon his shins, and Clermistonlee, exasperated by the unlooked-for delay, furiously thrust the link into the heavy thatch. The dense mass smouldered and smoked for an instant, while the dry straw below struggled with the thick stratum of green moss above, till the former prevailed, and a broad lurid flame shot upward, revealing the broad fields and pasture land, the rough dykes and budding hedgerows, the dreary road that wound over the adjacent hills, the far recesses of the beechen grove, bringing forward the knotted branches and gnarled and ivied trunks in strong relief, from the darkness and obscurity of the wooded vista behind. Full on the roofless walls and pointed windows of St. Rocque fell the fitful light, and on the spacious burial ground, where close and thick lay the headstones of those unfortunates who perished in the deadly pestilence of 1645. In a few minutes a mass of blazing thatch fell inwards through the bared and scorched rafters, and a terrific scream ascended from within. Fire now flashed through the little square windows of the cottage, and its whole interior became filled with yellow light; but the door still remained fast, while the shrieks that rang within made Clermistonlee tremble with apprehension.

"Fury and confusion!" he exclaimed, "she may be scorched to death by that flaming mass of thatch! Horror! aid me--fool and villain--to burst in the door! quick, or the accursed Baillie of the Portsburgh with his trainband of souters and wabsters will be on us."

While he was speaking, the cottage door flew open, and, amid a shower of sparks, which she threw from her attire, a female rushed forth in a slate of distraction.

"'Tis she, Juden!" cried Clermistonlee, "'tis she! I could know that purple hood among a thousand!" and rushing forward with a tipsy shout of triumph and rapture, he snatched up the the slight figure, over which his staunch bravo threw the ample and stifling rocquelaure in a manner that showed he had practised it on former occasions, as it effectually prevented her cries from being heard. Tall, strong, and muscular, Clermistonlee with perfect ease placed his fair captive on the croupe of his horse, and, springing into the saddle, gave it the spur so suddenly, that it bounded into the air, and he lost a stirrup.

"Courage, Juden!" he exclaimed, while his heart panted with love and exultation; "to horse and spur for the Place of Drumsheugh--but first assist me--confusion! I have lost a stirrup--quick, varlet, the curb-rein. So, now, look to thy petronel, for, by Jove! I hear a horn blowing somewhere."

Trembling with terror, and shaken furiously by the bounding of his restless horse, the muffled captive lay helpless in his bold embrace. One hand and arm were firmly clasped round her light and shrinking figure, the other held the reins of his powerful horse, which dashed along the road, clearing dyke and hedge at a bound, until gaining the summit of the Burghmuir, where the road was rendered dangerous by the ancient quarries, moss-haggs, and heron-shaws that bordered it.

"My dear Lilian, why will you struggle with me when I tell that your efforts are vain; but fear not, gentle one, I will slacken my horse's speed if you wish it." He spoke with the utmost deliberation and coolness; for he was too much used to such affairs to feel at all puzzled in making an apology; besides, he was very tipsy. "You have long rejected me, dear Lilian, and forced me to this act, for which I crave your pardon with the most abject humility--by all the devils I do! I am not one to stand on trifles, as thou knowest: no, sink me! and if it is in the power of man to bend a woman's will to his, thine shall bend to mine."

This address was in no way calculated to quiet the terrors of his prisoner: his lordship was becoming more and more confused and intoxicated, as every bound of his horse forced into his head the fumes of the wine of which he had partaken so freely; and so he continued in the same strain--

"What dost say, little one--my beloved Lilian I mean--you will struggle, you will scream? Permit me to insinuate, my dear Madam, that it will be worse than useless, for nothing can avail you now but pleasing me; a course I would advise you to pursue forthwith. I know some devilish fine women that would be proud to do it--crush me if I do not! My dearest Lilian, (what was I saying?) I will teach thee to love as I would wish to be loved. My heart and coronet are at your feet--will not sincere love beget love? By all the devils, I know it will! You will pardon all this to-morrow, for I know women forgive all that has love for an excuse; then how much more so you, that are ever so gentle and kind, when other dames are so haughty and cold; d--n them! amen. You think me a wicked ruffian, eh? Zounds! I am not at all so, but a very fine fellow in every respect, though an unfortunate victim of love to thee and fear of a few rascally creditors. My pretty Lilian, in fact I love thee so tremendously, that even the pen of Scuderi could never describe it; and I swear by this kiss, dear Lilian, and this--and this--a thousand furies! where am I?"

He became sobered in a moment, for, on removing the mantle to salute the soft cheek of the girl, instead of beholding, as he expected, the head of a seraph peeping forth from a mass of bright ringlets, lo! a ray of the sickly moon streamed on the hooked nose, peaked chin, grey haired, and smoke-begrimed visage of Elsie Elshender.

"Horror!" exclaimed Clermistonlee, whose rhapsody this terrible vision had cut short.

"Avaunt, hag of hell!" and, trembling in every fibre with rage and disgust, he flung the poor woman from his arms, and goading his horse with the sharp rowels, dashed up the dark and rough Kirk Brae at a break-neck pace; while Juden, totally unable to comprehend what had taken place in front, partly drew up as the female rolled by the way-side, near the gate of the Place of Bruntisfield.

"Awa wi' ye! fie and out upon ye, ye sons o' the scarlet woman!" exclaimed Elsie in great wrath and tribulation, for she soon recovered the use of her tongue. "May a' the plagues of Egypt fa' upon your ungodly heads! May the Lord send cursing vexation and rebuke! Out upon ye! fie, and a murrain upon ye!"

Juden was astonished; but no sooner did he hear her shrill voice, and behold by the moonlight her aged and withered visage, with long tangled hair falling grey around it, than he became seized with a superstitious terror, which the raising of her long skinny arm and crooked finger, as if to curse, completed; and he stayed not to hear the expected anathema.

"The first fuff o' a haggis is aye the hottest, but I'll not bide a second. Tak' that, ye accursed witch, until you are tarbarrelled!" he exclaimed, and fired his long horse pistol full in her face. Poor Elsie fell forward motionless, while Juden, without daring once to look behind him, dashed at full gallop after his lord, who had already crossed Halkerston's Crofts, and was nearing the village of St. Ninian.