CHAPTER LVI.

THE UNICORN LOOSE.

_Macduff_. "Stands Scotland where it did? _Rosse_. Alas, poor country; Almost afraid to know itself! It cannot Be call'd our mother, but our grave."--_Macbeth_,

The Lords still remained at Leith, where they took all measures and precautions necessary to strengthen their power and increase their forces, in case the missing king should appear at the head of the Highland clans, or perhaps a foreign army, to vindicate his rights and those of Scotland; for they still remembered the threats uttered by the Mareschal de Concressault in the Castle of Callender; but an end was put to all their arrangements and surmises by the discovery of James's body, which was found by the sleuth bratches of the old Steward of Menteith when tracking some robbers through the Torwood, all gashed and bloody, blanched and soiled by a week's exposure in a field-ditch near Beaton's mill on the Bannock; and now a thrill of sorrow went over all the land, for even the most barbarous of that nobility who have ever been so false, so treacherous, and so base to Scotland--who have usually been the first to abandon her on the field, and assuredly not the last to betray her in the cabinet--had not contemplated an issue so terrible!

The young prince was filled with horror and remorse, which even the tidings of Lady Margaret's safety with the Admiral could not alleviate: for now he recalled with the keenest sorrow, how bitterly he had accused his poor father of abducting her, and how, led away by passion and despair, he had permitted himself to be the tool, the dupe, and the plaything of the turbulent and ambitious noblesse.

From that hour he began to shun them, and to seek for his father's oldest and most faithful friends. The first he thought of was the trusty Laird of Largo, to whom he despatched the Snowdon Herald and Unicorn Pursuivant, announcing the awful intelligence of his royal father's murder (the news of which was already pretty well known at the court of England), and requiring his presence at Leith. Then full of rage and sorrow the Admiral put out of Largo Bay, and with all his ships and prisoners, stood with all sail set up the river, and anchored off the seaport of the capital, where all the vessels in the harbour and roadstead, showed their ensigns half hoisted--the blue Scottish flag with its white saltier, which is the groundwork of the modern Union Jack; and which is still retained unchanged by the Old Shipping Company of Leith.

The same flag was hoisted on the English prizes, one of which, say the Admiralty records, as she came abreast of the town, had her keel knocked away upon the Gunnel. The latter is a dangerous sunken rock, which is yet unmarked by a buoy, though it has only eight feet of water over it at ebb tide.

In the large hall of Barton's house at Leith, on a bright and sunny morning, the prince was again seated at the table, where a grave and melancholy council had just been held on what should _now_ be done to heal the dissensions which were likely to break out anew, as a cry "for vengeance on the king's murderers" was going throughout the land. The council had been broken up without a decision being found. The prince was pale, sad-eyed, and downcast, and left almost alone: for in the deep recesses of the hall windows, Angus, Home, Hailes, the Heritable Forester of Drum, and others, with many lords of the noble faction, were conversing, or gazing dreamily at sunlit river, and the ships which caine to anchor near the shore.

Sir Patrick Gray of Kyneff had retired to the Castle of Broughty; Sir James Shaw of Sauchie had repaired to his fortress of Stirling, and Sir William Stirling of the Keir, animated by the same wisdom and prudence, had retreated to some fastness in the Highlands of Perthshire; while their worthy compatriot, Hew Borthwick--though as yet unsuspected and unknown--had concealed himself in Berwick, which was then garrisoned by English troops, and had been so since its betrayal by Alexander Duke of Albany, who was then an exile in France.

Above the prince's chair was a coat of the royal arms, in which the chains of the unicorns were represented _loose_, as we may still see them.

Lately by the voice of Heralds, by the sound of trumpets and by the boom of brass artillery, he had been proclaimed at the crosses of all the adjacent burghs, King of Scotland and the Isles, by the title of James IV.; but he felt as if a curse had come with it upon him, for the crown had been drenched in the blood of his father.

"Betouch us, too!" said old Lord Drummond, to whom Home and Hailes related the mysterious disappearance of the three fugitives from the tree. "Well, it matters not whether the spirits of the air, the earth, the gude wichts, or the weirdwoman herself hath made away with them; they are gone, and St. Mary be praised, there is an end of them now. But please you, my good lords, bruit not abroad this scandalous tryst of my runagate daughters."

"I shall speak with the Abbot of Dunfermline anent this runion of a hermit, however," said Home, angrily; "by Heaven I will!"

"The friar; yes, we shall have him unfrocked for abetting assignations under the colour of pilgrimages, and bringing scandal upon holy places," added Hailes, as he joined Lord Lyle and turned to another window to watch the ships of Wood.

Observing his daughter Sybilla similarly engaged, with her pale cheek resting on her hand, Lord Drummond approached her, with his brows knit, and said in a low voice,--

"Art prepared now, Sybie, to seek my blessing, and to win forgiveness for this most shameful visit to Loretto, by wedding at once this gay young Lord, whose Earl's patent hath all but passed the seals?"

"Oh father, I never could love him."

"Why not? hath he not as many legs and arms, eyes and ears as other men--and what more dost thou want--eh?"

"Oh, Mother Mary!" sighed Lady Sybilla, "teach me what to say."

"A truce to prayers," said the old Lord, spitefully, while his eyes kindled; "prayers, indeed! had we not enough of that ware at Loretto?"

"I have ever striven to please you, dear father,--to be dutiful and kind--but--but----"

"But me no _buts_--thou silly giglet."

"Father, I am your child----"

"I hope so, though of late I've had my doubts of it. Well, then, as my child thou art bound to obey me."

"But surely not in all things?" said Sybilla, whoso tears fell fast.

"In all things!" reiterated this despotic old baron, who had the power of life and death, pit and gallows, over all in Strathearn, and yearly took by force the best horse and fattest cow from every tenant there as a herezeld: "if the greatest of my vassals is bound to obey me to the death--yea, to obey or swing on the nearest branch,--how much more ought thou and Euphemia, who are my own daughters? A curse on the hour such brittle ware as daughters came into the house of Drummond!"

"I have no desire to wed," said Sybilla, making a violent effort to control her tears, for many eyes were upon her, "none! let me abide with you, dearest father, and little Elizabeth and Beatrix, in bonnie Strathearn; for I have no wish to leave your hearth and home; I have no wish for wealth, and no desire for rank."

"Rank--what do you mean by rank? _My_ daughters require not _that_," said the old chief, clanking his enormous spurs on the floor.

"But if you think over-many of us are growing up to woman's estate, let me retire into a convent, where, by teaching others to embroider, to illuminate, and to write, I may maintain myself with utility; hear me, dearest father!"

"A convent, Sybie?"

"Yes--yes; there are the Grey Sisters at Dundee, all of whom are pious, good, and kind, and know me well."

"Enough, thou cunning minx, enough! the superior of those Claresses is aunt to Robert Barton, the skipper's son; nay, I see how the wind sets, as _he_ would say. 'Tis a conspiracy against me," added the old lord, furiously; "but let all plotters _gang warily_, for by the arm of St. Fillan I'll have a deep revenge and a sure one! But hush now, lassie, for here cometh the Admiral Wood and his English prisoners, with Margaret--my daughter Margaret, as I am a living man!"

"And two spruce English damsels," said Hailes, who like Home was astonished on beholding Falconer and Barton, both of whom accompanied the admiral.

"On my soul, this Laird of Largo hath no small assurance, to bring all this rabble of fellows into the prince's presence," said the Earl of Angus, knitting his brows as he surveyed the numerous group surrounding Sir Andrew Wood, whose friends were all in armour, and who had brought with him Willie Wad and Cuddie Clewline, his coxswain; while Edmund Howard, conspicuous by his noble bearing and rich costume, was followed by John o'Lynne, Dick Selby, his tall gunner, and the principal officers of the captured ships; all of whom were without swords or armour, and were graciously received by the sad and thoughtful prince--now James IV.,--after he had sprung forward, and heedless of the assembled crowd, knelt down with that enthusiastic gallantry for which he was so celebrated, and kissed both the hands of Lady Margaret Drummond. He then placed her by his side, where her sisters hung around her neck.

James then asked Howard with something of sternness, "how she came to be found on board of the _Harry_, and why, in time of truce, such war was levied on the Scottish people?"

Howard, who had beheld this meeting with a keen emotion that amounted almost to agony, replied with grave but respectful firmness:

"I can assure your majesty, that in the matter of having this noble dame on board my ship I shall answer no questions, and though you should tear me limb from limb, I would rather die than betray the secrets of my royal master!"

"Hah--is it so? then here, as usual, have been at work dark England's cursed gold and Scotland's ready treason," said the young king, striking his spurred heel on the floor; "but a time shall come for unravelling all this! Welcome, brave Andrew Wood, my dear dead father's firmest friend; his first and last, his noblest and most true!"

A tear came zigzag down the furrows of the old mariner's face as the young monarch spoke, and he answered in a broken voice,--

"I have ever striven to do my duty to Scotland and her king, like a sailor and a man, and so God has blessed and prospered me. Weel, weel, it's a' owre noo; our gude king is, I doubt not, safely moored in a blessed anchorage, and lest he may not lie in the smoothest riding, I will lay out a thousand crowns in masses for his soul in Largo Kirk and at Mary's Altar in Leith, just to make his anchor hold. Let us hope that the evil currents, the rocks and shoals he came through in life will all be taken into account aloft, when he comes to reckon up his variation and leeway, and shall secure him everlasting peace in the blessed latitudes above; for a braver or a better man never faced wind or water, shot or steel! Well fare thy soul, King James; in thee puir auld Andrew Wood has lost a kind and faithful master, such as he never more may see!"

"This may savour more of truth than politeness to his successor," said the haughty Angus, who disliked this outburst of feeling, which quite unmanned James IV.; "but I say welcome to thee from battle, stout Largo, and there is my hand to thee in all amity and friendship."

The giant earl drew off his glove, and they shook hands; the noble with an air of courtly condescension, and the seaman with blunt cordiality.

Many now expressed the pleasure it gave them to see the admiral once more in safety, but he received their advances with coolness and evident distrust.

"I am safe and sound and well, thank Heaven, my lords and gentles," said he, "and have neither had a hole punched in my ribs, nor a butt nor bolt started; but here I bring your majesty four gallant ships and much warlike gear, all marked with the broad arrow of England;" (the badge of the Edwards was then, as now, a government mark.) "Would that I could have laid their white colours at the feet of that brave monarch over whose devoted head the stormy sea of this world has closed for ever!"

After a few words with Barton, Falconer, John o'Lynne, and others, the young monarch, for whom "woman's face was never formed in vain," suddenly perceived Rose and Cicely, and desired them to approach. As the old admiral led them both forward trembling and blushing, to a close observer it would have been evident how nervously Cuddie Clewline and Willie Wad fumbled each with his ruff and waistbelt, twirled his bonnet, and hitched up his short wide trews, or chewed the ropeyarn lanyard of his jockteleg, _i.e._, clasp-knife.

"And so, my pretty damsels," said James IV., "you also were found on board this great ship, the _Harry_?"

"They were my attendants," said Margaret, "and most kind and faithful have they been to me."

"What is thy father in his own country, maiden?" James asked of Rose,--a shade coming over his face as he thought of his own sire. But poor Rose blushed and hesitated, for she had never stood in such a presence before; and a simple English girl of those days had about as much conception of what like a Scottish king might be as of the Khan of Tartary;--indeed, the unlettered English are not very clear in their ideas of Scotland yet, for two acts of the British parliament have recently described it as an _island_.

"Speak, my pretty one; and be not alarmed," said the handsome young king.

"My father is Abel Eyre, a fishmonger in the Knight-Rider-street," said she, gathering courage at the gentle voice of James; "my mother is the sister of Peter Puddle, who keepeth a wharf westward of Baynard Castle, upon Thames; so please you. Alas!" she continued, still keeping her eyes and their long dark lashes downcast; "I know not how to see them all again; I never was so far, far away from the sound of London bells before!"

"And _thou_, maiden, with the dark brown braids, eh?"

"I am an orphan," said Cicely, as she was about to weep; "my father was a poor cottager of Liverpool."

"Liverpool--where may that place be; dost know, Admiral?"

The admiral expressed ignorance, as well he might, for it was then, as Leland terms it, a small "paved towne with a chapel," in the parish of Walton.

James gave each of the girls a gold chain and a purse of money and perceiving that Howard was without a sword, presented him with his own, which, with an expression of sadness and gratitude, this brave English gentleman received, on his knees. He felt his heart beating keenly all the time, for the eyes of Margaret were fixed upon him, with kindness and regret.

At her intercession and request, James gave him liberty to return to England whenever he pleased; but added, that so severe had been the ravages committed along the coast between Berwick and Dunbar, by the ships under his command, that their crews must be considered as ordinary prisoners of war, and be committed to some royal castle, until John, Prior of St. Andrew's, the new secretary of state, arranged for their exchange or transmission home.

Howard gave a silent bow of acquiescence.

Barton now whispered to Sir Andrew Wood, who, with a half smile, in his own fashion of phraseology, informed the young king, that his "gunner and coxswain had conceived certain matrimonial designs against the two English prizes, and that if these fair damsels would bring-to under their lee, he would give each of them a cottage, a cow, and a cow's mailing, at least, for their dower, by the shore of Largo Bay."

At this speech, Cuddie and the gunner gave their foretops a tug, and scraped with their right feet; while the two girls cast down their eyes and again blushed furiously, for there was a numerous circle around them; but none of these four had a word of thanks to offer, so completely were they abashed by the presence in which they stood; for there was many a dark and hostile eye bent on one portion of the group, because they were English; and on the other portion, because they were the late king's faithful subjects.

"Come, Cuddie Clewline, stand forward," said the Admiral; "lay alongside thine own prize, man; show thyself a sailor. And thou, gunner o' mine, heave ahead, sirrah; let not the king's presence abash one who hath so often looked grim death in the face and never blanched. I assure thee, Willie," he continued, as the king put Cicely's hand into the gunner's, "there is not such another bride on this side of Cape Non. Rogue, sawest thou ever such swelling bows and a run so clean under the counter? I trow not. Hold up thy head, man, for thou and that lumping varlet, Cuthbert Clewline, are the only two among us who may recal with joy that night's hard battle in the Firth."

"God bless your majesty," said Wad, "and may my drink be bilge in this world, and waur in that to come, if I keep not a clear conscience and a fair reckoning, having sic a consort to sail through the voyage o' life wi'."

"And friend coxswain," said James, with a smile, "hast thou no thanks?"

"Tickle my timmers, but I say wi' the gunner," said Cuddie, as they backed through the gay crowd not very ceremoniously, and at that moment the eyes of poor Falconer and Sybilla met, with a glance that seemed to inquire, "Were there no other hearts here--whom the king's influence might render happy?"

"Now, thanks be to Heaven, all this is over, Robbie Barton," said the Admiral; "for when among lords I always lose my temper, and yaw in my speech. Gadzooks, courts are not for me; the gunner to his lintstock, the steersman to his helm."

"Saw you how sternly the Lord Drummond regarded us?" said Barton, gravely.

"Let him glower his een out, Robbie--an obstinate old snatchblock!"

So ended this interview, and the whole issue of it tended somewhat to soothe the excited minds of those who were present.

That stringent act of the Scottish parliament, which ordained that "none of his majestie's subjectes marrie with any Englishwoman," was not passed for a hundred years _after_ the time of our history; thus the espousals of the gunner and coxswain were duly celebrated by Father Zuill at the capstan-head of the _Yellow Frigate_; the Admiral gave them each a piece of land at the mouth of the Keil Burn; and it is a curious fact, that most of the inhabitants of the thriving village of Lower Largo have descended from these two marriages.

Barton, in the religious spirit peculiar to the time, founded and dedicated an altar to St. Clement, according to his vow, and there solemn masses were said till the times of Knox and Wishart.

Two days after the marriages the Admiral parted with Edmund Howard, who returned to England sorrowfully, for he had left both fame and happiness behind him. The chivalric Barton escorted him to the borders.

"Adieu, captain," said Howard, "until we _meet again_; and believe me, that when in merrie England I reckon up the days of my captivity among you, I will omit the happy ones I spent in Largo House in Fife."

The wardens of the marches soon achieved the exchange of Miles Furnival, John o'Lynne, Dick Selby, and other prisoners, who, strange to say, are all designated as "English _pirates_" in the royal charters of land given to the Admiral, who received the island of Inchkeith, the estate of Dron, and the lordship of Newbyrne for his bravery.

Still poor David Falconer was forgotten; and he and Robert Barton, by the determination, vigilance, and assiduity of Lord Drummond, found themselves as far as ever from all prospect of successfully winning their brides.