Otterbourne; a story of the English marches

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OTTERBOURNE;

A STORY OF THE ENGLISH MARCHES.

BY THE AUTHOR OF " DERWENTWATER."

The Englyshmenne and the Skottes are good men of warre, for \vhei\
they mete there is a hard fyght without sparynge.

Lord Berner's Froissart,

.«•

IN THREE VOLUMES.
VOL. I.

LONDON :
RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET,

(LATE COLBURN AND BENTLEY).

1832.

C. WHITING, BEAUFORT HOUSE, STRAND.

^
-^

C

d

OTTERBOURNE.

^ CHAPTER I.

f

A young squier,
A lover and a lusty bachelor.

* * »

Curteis he was, lowly and servisable.

A Frere,

A Limitour, a full solempne man.

>

0

Chaucer.

Upon the summit of one of those wild hungry

: steeps, half heath, half peeping rock, which

^^ abound upon the northern extremity of what

have been called the English Appennines, an

t armed horseman took a solitary but apparently

-jiot motiveless station. It was in that season of

^ the year when, using the words of a contempo-

^ rary legend, " husbandes winne their haye ;"

^ though, in honest sooth, no signs of any such

VOL. I. B

Z OTTERBOURNE.

genial harvesting softened the rugged scene
exposed to his view. The gray mists of morn-
ing had just cleared av^^ay, and left the elevated
outline of the mountain fells that here stretch
between the two Britains (not then so desig-
nated, and still less so united) disclosed in
dreary but distinct relief.

The frontier beings at this time, by no means
defined as at present, it will be enough to say,
that over the tract of territory which lay hence
towards the Scottish side, the above individual
threw searching glances of prolonged examina-
tion. The district known as the forest of Jed,
or Jedworth, terminated his forward prospect,
and upon that termination it was, that his re-
gards most specially centered.

Across a lower and more accessible part of
the hill, which he had evidently topped only
for the purpose of outlook, ran a line of road,
or rather, some marks of a passable route. The
eye following this, might trace it to a ford in a
brawling rill about a mile distant, and again

OTTERBOURNE. 3

rising, to creep on until lost amidst some fern
clad inequalities. Further in that direction,
something like the smoke of habitation arose
from behind a swelling mound, and furnished
almost the only token of human existence dis-
cernible. After completing, what in our days
would be termed his recon?iaisance, the cavalier
descended to the track in question, and pur-
sued it, as if bent on penetrating into the oppo-
site kingdom. As the reader must bear him
company, it is proper that he should have some
notion of the sort of person to whom he is
introduced.

His equipment at once proclaimed him a man
at arms of the period (1388), and his individual
qualities promised him no ordinary one. He
was a youth of goodly mien and fair propor-
tions. A choice sample of active manhood,
though not remarkable for " the thewes, the
stature, bulk, and big assemblance" of it. He
was, to use homely descriptives, clean limbed

b2

4 OTTERBOURNE.

and lithe of action; fair-faced, moreover, and
caiTying a lightsome intelligent eye. His air
possessed in an eminent degree the character
which we associate with birth and station, yet
his equipment did not announce him to be of
such. The shield, slung to his neck, bore no
emblazonry, and his open bacinet and pennon-
less lance argued him neither to have under-
gone the colaphum, or knightly box on the ear(!);
nor the osculum pads, which more gently sig-
nified the chivalric brotherhood. He was, how-
ever, well mounted and perfectly armed. Judg-
ing from his simple habergeon, and a silver
crescent which he bore, more in the way of
cognizance than as his own device, he might be
pronounced a superior retainer in the service of
some great feudatory. Perhaps one of those
equivocally ranking household knights often
entertained by the powerful baronage of that
day.

Whosoever he might be, and whatsoever his

OTTERBOURNE. 6

object, he regained the path he had lately
quitted, and progressed cautiously and leisurely
towards the ford just mentioned.

As he neared thereto, a second person, on
foot, and of very different exterior, appeared,
gradually approaching the same from the re-
verse quarter. The sight occasioned a moment's
hesitation; but no more. A short scrutiny
seemed to satisfy him that the way-farer was of
a class not to give him any concern ; he pushed
on, and had passed the brook ere the other came
up to it. They met, and a civil salutation was
exchanged. People cannot cross and part with
the vacant indifference of walkers in the Strand,
when they encounter thus in a silent and deso-
late region.

The pedestrian was a man of middle age,
attired in the gray gown and hood of a mendi-
cant friar ; both much the worse for wear. The
latter primitive envelope surrounded a sharp
featured sallow physiognomy, deeply channelled
with hnes of care and discontent, but indicative

O OTTERBOURNE.

of keenness and thought. Above this, and tend-
ing to confuse the idea of his calling otherwise
suggested, was placed a slouching cap of felt,
used as an additional protection against the
weather. A scrip was appended to his shoul-
der, and in his hand he grasped a stout travel-
ling staff. Altogether, the free roll of his eye,
and a certain swing in gait, belonged rather to
some itinerant tregatour, or jogeler, than to a
devout contemner of worldly possessions.

The cavalier, reining up his steed in front of
the other, prepared to accost him ; hesitating,
however, for an instant, as puzzled on the style
of address rightly becoming.

" Morrow to thee, holy father,'' he cried at
length, " if, indeed, such thou art ; and, if not,
thou mayest not think I hail thee with an ill
name. Thou art betimes afoot : how far hast
journeyed this morn?"

" Take thy morrow back, in good part, Sir
Knight," returned the gray gown, carelessly,
and speaking as though he meant to retort

OTTERBOURNE. /

upon the last speaker his implied dubiety;
" but as to thy concluding query, my response
shall await our better acquaintance."

" Nay, faith ! thy bounty overswells my style,"
said the cavaher, laughing, though at the same
time a slight shade darkened his visage, — " I
boast not that degree."

" But hast thy own good will to it, I dare
avouch,'** said the gownsman, drily.

" Peradventure. But to my behest. Sir Tra-
veller, I have matter for my asking."

" And I, Sir Stranger, may have mine for
being silent."

" Natheless, thou shalt answer my question,
and, mayhap, one or two more, before we sepa-
rate."

" I bear a stout crab with me, friend," said
the other, exhibiting his staff — not, by the way,
as if inclined really to " shew fight," — but in
pertinacious argument. " Thy steed will not
avail thee much among these mosses."

" Come, gossip, be compliant," rejoined the

8 OTTERBOURNE.

man of arms, treating the demonstration with
natural contempt ; " I would not willingly be
rough with thee.'^

" My son," said the now-avowed friar, as-
suming a severe air, " though I am but a poor
brother of St, Francis, it is not meet that a
layman should offer such irreverent language to
mine ears. 'Tis pity one so young, and fair
seeming, too, should have been mistaught his
duties."

'^ Essoin me, holy father/* replied the youth,
altering his manner, " I was unassured of your
clerkship; and, besides, am on a charge that
permits no sacrifice to courtesy. Will it, then,
please thee, in all amity, to resolve me a few
points of information after thy best power?
Thou shalt have grace, and guerdon, too, if it
beseem thee to accept the latter."

" Well — speak thy vnshes."

" I would know through what country thou
hast lately passed ; and if thou hast seen ought
of warlike company in thy course ? In short.

OTTERBOURNE. »

father, — you look like a shrewd observer, one
that can scent a cause and catch a meaning —
tell me, are there hostile stirrings in the forest
yonder. Thence thou hast behoved to come."

" I understand — what then ? Perchance, you
present a dish I may not dip my finger in. I
am from Scotland, as thou see'st."

" But, certes ! — an Englishman?"

" Of a truth, I am," replied the Franciscan ;
an indefinable smile crossing a countenance m
which the disposition to bitterness was strongly
imprinted. " I have had more reason to remem-
ber, than to boast of it."

" At any rate you are bound to circumvent
the enemies of your countrymen."

" I had rather you had said, of my country.
England, herself, I never can forget — but the
distinction is not for you. Prithee, in whose
service dost thou ride?"

" Sir Friar, this is trifling. Thy pardon, if
occasion makes me abrupt. Tis /, who seek
of thee."

b3

10 OTTERBOURNE.

" Yet inform, good youth. I ask not idly**"

" Content thee, then ; I follow the banner of
the Lord Warden."

"And he is "

" Sir Henry Percy."

"Um!" ejaculated the friar, apparently not
dissatisfied with the intelligence. " Fame has
tongued his deeds full loudly."

" Aye, and full justly. He is a warrior !"

" His sire is a tried one — though that is
nought." The friar spoke, as if inwardly re-
flecting.

" How, father ? — nought to take the lead,
wherein to dog at heel even, is laudatoiy !"

" Frown none, boy. Thy brow will not be
always smooth; therefore, spare it premature
furrows. 'Twas the pernicious pride of arms I
slighted, not the great earl. Him, I respect, on
other grounds, somewhat beyond his peers."

" Thou art strange in speech, father !"

" I speak as a Christian man, Sir Cavalier,
and will ever do't freely. But, come ! — do me

OTTERBOURNE. 11

an easy good turn, and I will fillip thine ear
with something to thy purpose. You talked oi
guerdon—'tis the only one I will demand."

" Name it, then — name that same turn."

" Why, simply this : mount me on thy crup-
per, and carry me o'er yon runlet. I could
wade it at a pinch, but a soused gown and
soaked startopes are not well to walk in. Hey !
you'll do't, my son ?"

" Right willingly, father ; and waste no tnne
o'er't. Here, plant one foot on mine: — now,
your hand — there, cleverly seated."

Thus disposed en croupe, the friar grappled
the man at arms round the body, and that good-
natured personage caused his horse a second
time to plunge through the waters, landing his
new acquaintance dry upon the southern bank.

" A benison on thee, my son !" said the Fran-
ciscan, after descending to parent earth. "Thou
art a proper youth and a kindly. I marvel to
find one such pricking under a puissant baron'?
cosrnizance."

12 OTTERBOURNE.

" Why that, father ? Where can the devoir
of courtesy be learnt, if not in castle hall ?"

" Those who learn it there, learn also to con-
fine it to such as sit and lord it there : supple
to the greater, sullen to the less. Cockered into
a consequence, they know not to be their own,
your fellows deem civility to russet jerkins an
imperilling of the loan. To such, they dole
out fair speech as tho' they feared being beg-
gared by its too free use. Out on the swag-
gerers ! The curse of pauperhood light on 'em
all !''

" Hold, there ! for thine own holy saints'
sake !"* exclaimed the man at arms, laughing.
" Methought, he taught ye poverty was a bless-
ing. I fear me, father, thou hast met but
scurvy treatment in the land of thy late so-
journing, makes thee thus ireful. Aye, aye !
Hab has as few good words as pence, for any
but a clansman. Chafe not at it, father, he that

* St. Francis enjoined those of his order to eschew worldly
goods and lire on alms alone.

OTTERBOURNE. 13

makes his bed on an ice heap must'nt complain
o' the cold. Yet, while I babble, time is wear-
ing. Haste, reverend Sir, impart to me thy
promised caution. If it colour after my sus-
picions, there's much to be done to-day. Thank
heaven, the summer's height makes a long
one !"

The request now found a candid inclination
in the hearer. That party entered immediately
on certain details, the fruit of his itinerant ob-
servation ; but preparatory to extending the same
information to the reader, it will be expedient
to take a short review of the relations of the
times.

14 OTTERBOURNE.

CHAPTER II.

Our father's met in battle, because they loved the strife of the

spears.

OsS. FiNGAL.

At no period of our varied annals, did those
devastating inroads, which at once marked the
ferocity of the age, and the reciprocated animo-
sity of the tv^o island nations, occur more fre-
quently and fearfully than in the reign of the
unfortunate and imbecile Richard II. At this
era, which is that of the following legend, war
was alike the business and the pleasure of all
whom Fortune had not allotted to toil. The
spirit — mania, shall we call it? — of chivalry,
was then, spite of some dawning of letters and
civilization, still at its height. In England, the
eldern nobles strongly partook the character of

OTTERBOUHNE. 15

the romantically valiant school in which they
had been bred. They vividly remembered the
feats performed in the train of the conquering
Edward, and fired their ardent sons with the
grateful repetition. Of France, again and again
laid prostrate by their arms, the tale was often
told, and greedily devoured. It is not, there-
fore^ to be wondered, that the English youth
shared profusely in that thirst after renown in
field, which, more or less, prevailed over the
whole of Europe, and which seemed, to its de-
votees, the chief end of existence. Neither is it
surprising, that the great continental theatre of
battle being at this juncture temporarily closed,
the home frontier should become the arena of
diverted contention.

The borders of either country were, as is well
known, inhabited by a sturdy ungovernable race,
well suited to the state of turmoil and insecurity
in which they lived. The savage district where-
over they were accustomed to roam, tended no
less to assimilate to itself their mental impres-

16 OTTEREOURNE.

sions, than to indurate their frame of body. In
the religious practise of —

" The good old rule, the simple plan,
That those should take, who have the power,
And those should keep who can,"

they were abundantly exercised. The habits
engendered by such a course of life need not be
formally premised.

The powerful houses that furnished hereditary
chieftains, to control, or rather direct, these
perennial warriors, had recently put forth some
of their most distinguished scions. The Percies
and the Nevilles on the one side, the Douglasses
and Dunbars on the other ; besides many more
of minor note. These, adding the combustibles
of personal rivalry and pride of prowess to the
lively flame of patriotism, kept up a continual
exchange of visits, very different in character
from such as probably pass between their living
descendants. Residing in a state of constant
watchfulness within their domestic fortresses,

OTTERBOURNE. 17

they reposed in an attitude convenient alike to
project or repel mischief. National truces were
little regarded. Even in the midst of many
such, deeds, wild as the hilly region which
mostly witnessed them, were unrelentingly per-
petrated.

About the eleventh year after Richard^s ac-
cession, the borders enjoyed a transient but sus-
picious quiet. A brief season before, the young
king in person, at the head of a large army,
had invaded Scotland; and, not meeting any
opposition, had ravaged all the country south of
the Forth frith ; burning Edinburgh and sack-
ing the great abbey of Melrose. For this inflic-
tion, no attempt at co-extensive retaliation had
hitherto been essayed ; but no one doubted that
a fitting moment would be seized by a people
usually so vindictive. Whispers and rumours
had indeed actually traversed southward, con-
cerning a congress of Scottish barons at Aber-
deen ; held, it was said, to plan some measure
of active hostility. However this might be,

18 OTTERBOURNE.

it was generally believed, upon the English
marches, that mischief hung somewhere in the
wind. Fortunately, they were then under the
protection of a Conservator, well able to con-
front the threatened visitation. This was Sir
Henry Percy, already redoubted under his well-
known soubriquet, who, though young, and in
some degree guided by the experienced Earl, his
father, was personally entrusted with the king's
commission to that effect.

Moved bv advices more definite, than in-
fluenced the popular opinion. Sir Henry had
thought it prudent to dispatch several emissaries
to probe, as it were, the enemies' frontier, and
bring intelligence of appearances. To the most
dangerous quarter he had sent an adventurous
follower, on whom he had special reliance ; one
of his body esquires — by name, Raimond Far-
neley. He, it was, who encountered the friar,
as recounted, and to him will events lead us
now to return.

" And so you say, father, the Dales are posi-

OTTERBOURNE. 19

tivelyup?" he demanded, pursuing a train of
queries previously commenced.

*' Aye, and spears from a farther gathering,
or else they muster more men than I wot they
could," replied the Franciscan. " Hay will be
scarce in Jed worth, I can tell thee."

" Assembhng so near, too?"

" So near, that, but for yon rising mounds,
you might have ocular proof of their vicinity."

"Strange, then, we have not ere this been
burst on ! Marchmen are not wont to sleep
upon a raid. Know you who leads the host ?"

" That do I not, my son," returned the friar ;
who, it may be here noticed, used that paternal
term, as the mode of address conventional to
his order, but without much sanctity of man-
ner ; aught of that, indeed, he appeared to have
cast aside, as unmeet for the occasion. Nor did
it seem as if, at any time, he was greatly en-
cumbered with it. He continued : — " I am
little used to note the prancings and progress-
ings of those perked up pests, that lord it o'er

20 OTTERBOURNE.

the common soil ; neither have I bestowed my
time to study the tinsel toys and painted sym-
bols by which they are wont to proclaim their
lineage and degree. I know 'not, therefore,
whose name predominates in yonder gathering .
but enough I saw to be assured, that not one
but many men of sway, are there concenter-
ing."

"Ha! this waxes truly serious!" exclaimed
the esquire. " For something like, I was pre-
pared ; but not for such passing pregnant
tidings. No ordinary foray can be meant," he
pursued, soliloquizing aloud ; " the tale must
be born to Alnwick, quickly — and yet, I would
fain have my news more definite. At any rate,
I should assure myself: hearsay is but hear-
say."

" You doubt me. Thou didst not, e'en now,
shew spice of that dubiety in permitting an un-
known to mount behind, and hold thee at ad-
vantage. You trusted me in deed — you also
may in wofd."

OTTERBOURNE. 21

" Tush ! Sir Friar, I suspect thee not," said
the youth, carelessly ; " but I would not hie
home with a cock-bull story. My errand is to
.see, and eyes must be informants. Have you an
English heart? — but God's faith, you are so
cold and bloodless, I query if thou hast a heart
at all!"

" Thou wouldst not, hadst thou known me in
earlier days," said the friar, with a spark of
feeling. " As it is, I may prove some remains ;
and the more readily, for the good will I bear
your generous earl. What more have you to
ask?"

" Why, this : — that thou wilt stay here and
watch my horse and arms, whilst I venture into
the village there, after my bounden quest."

" David alone, amongst the Philistines !"
muttered the Franciscan. " Good youth, thou
art forgone in mind. Said I not it was already
beset by foemen?"

" You did — you did," returned the esquire.
" Albeit, I will meet the risk. Believe me to

22 OTTERBOURNE.

know what I would about, and say at once, if
you will take the charge."

" The Arabs of the east have a proverb which
gives seven ways to judge a fool: by two of
them thou art condemned."

" Aye ! which are they ?"

" Incurring danger without profit, and putting
trust in a stranger. Natheless, if thou art
resolved, I'll do thy bidding.''

" Enough, then, and hang the proverb !" said
the esquire, immediately dismounting. " Here
is my bridle ; and now for the rest."

He forthwith proceeded to disencumber him-
self of his shield and bacinet which he affixed
to his saddle bow ; also taking off his brassarts
and greaves (armour for the arms and legs) :
then drawing from a valise a coarse supertunic
and hood, such as commonly worn, he equipped
himself therein.

" Thou see'st father," said he, after he had
completed his transfigurement, " that I have
not committed a third point of folly in coming

OTTERBOURNE. 23

abroad without a thought towards what might
be needful. A good scout wants more outsides
than one. What look I like now ?"

" Nay, e'en like a very ordinary varlet, as I
will be sworn thou art soothly not," said the
Franciscan, surveying him with a somewhat
kindly look.

'* Good ! it will do, then. Await me, father,
behind this clump of gorse ; but if I return not
in such reasonable time as thou hast wit to
guess, or if molestation threaten, mount my
steed and spare him not. Direct your course
to Alnwick Castle, and there report the advices
you possess. Ne'er turn aside ; but, saving
that, do thy best to raise up the country as you
ride. — Your promise V

" By St. Francis. Yet I cannot choose but
think thee a silly boy to rely on my perform-
ance.'"

" Mayhap, I am," returned the youth, seek-
ing an eligible place whereat to spring across
the streamlet, which, though rather deep than

24 OTTERBOURNE.

broad, seemed to mock such an idea. " May-
hap, I am. Sir Friar ; and to speak frankly, thy
portaunce is none of the most inspiring. But
cravers may not be choosers; and, methinks,
spite thy crabbed bearing, thou art no hilding
fi'penny knave that will play me foul for sake
of horse and harness. For what else, I trust
to thy English blood."

" Thou shalt not repent the judgment. Bene-
dicite, my son ! Go, and be fortunate ; since
go thou wilt."

The young esquire, taking a leap that would
have credited an Ireland, cleared the watery
obstacle^ and strode vigorously forward on his
intent.

xApparently precipitate, and certainly perilous
as was the step thus undertaken, it was not
entirely unconsidered. Raimond Farneley was
not quite the rash harebrain he may have just
seemed. He served under a leader, who he well
knew would hold half information at little price,
if he thought better might have been obtained

OTTERBOURNE. 25

by greater daring. And as the opinion of others
often goads us harder than our own, so was the
esquire urged to sustain his place in the estima-
tion of his master, and to attempt more than he
might otherwise have confessed wise. He had,
moreover, laid down in his own mind, a plan,
plausible enough, by which he flattered himself
he could attain his purpose, without absolutely
thrusting his head into the lion's jaws. From
many incursions over the border, he was suffi-
ciently acquainted with the country around, to
comprehend its facilities of surface ; in all cases,
a favouring incidence. Furthermore, in the
hamlet of Bleaklaw, to which he was approach-
ing, he recollected the cot of an obscure indivi-
dual who owed him some return for a chance
benefaction, and upon whom he thought he might
calculate, for cover and counsel. Situated equi-
vocally upon the common confine of the nations,
the few inhabitants of that place were a mongrel
breed, indifferent to the interests of either : from
them he consequently anticipated no obstruc-

VOL. I. C

26 OTTERBOURNE.

tion ; but the rather countenance, if duly bought.
The great object was to shun contact with the
armed bodies, which he had been apprized of
being a-foot. Once fairly within the precincts
of Bleaklaw, his assumed garb might be a suf-
ficing protection ; but that chance would be
much diminished, if not entirely destroyed, were
he seen previously approaching from the true
quarter. Interrogatories and suspicions, then,
would pursue him; and, to be suspected, was
to suffer failure.

Fully cognizant of these circumstances, our
esquire's design was to make a circuit under
shelter of the hill, or law (which gave name to
the place, and at present shut him from view of
it), and so enter in a direction opposite and un-
exposed. The plan was the more feasible, in
that the cabin of his pre-supposed ally lay, "as
the Irish say, " convenient,'' at that extremity
of the straggling hamlet.

Adopting the line of action above sketched
out, the adventurer pushed forward in the rapid

OTTERBOURNE. 27

springing sort of walk, usually denominated by
persons who favour the plain vemacular-a
dog-trot: from which he never relaxed until he
was able to quit the regular track, and make
a shield of the friendly eminence. Lucky it
proved that he did use such celerity; for barely
had he thus fenced himself, when he heard
portentous sounds of movement along the said
pathway.

Circlmg the hill, he kept his way, difficultly
enough, until he conceived the village to be
somewhere abreast ; then chmbing the ascent he
determined to take a preparatory peep at the
face of things beyond. To do this with due
safety, when he came near the summit he
crouched down, creeping close along the ground,
until it became possible to overlook the top-
ndge, without risking his person in dangerous
relief against the sky; a consequence, which it
need hardly be remarked, always accompanies
an elevated stand. Having reached the desired

g2

2S OTTERBOURNE.

point, he laid upon the turf, and commenced
his observations.

These were, indeed, of a nature to repay his
labour. Excitement crowded on excitement,
and for a moment the apprehensions of the
emissary and the liegeman, yielded to the tu-
multuous emotions of the habitual votary of
arms.

The scope of gaze was extensive, and most
alarmingly filled. The whole of the country
towards Jedworth being alive with warlike
companies, converging upon Bleaklaw, and by
some that place was already occupied. Arms
and armour every way ghstened in the sun,
and the hum of bustle and vociferation swelled
palpably to the ear. Leaders galloped to and
fro ; and all else that is concomitant to the mar-
shalling of an army, lent soul-stirring influence
to the sight.

Tiviot, Liddel and Ettrick, nay, Esk and An-
nan beside, appeared to have furnished forth

OTTERBOURNE. 29

their whole force of ruthless prickers; ever
ready at such call. These, bestriding their
hardy hobbies, traversed the nearer levels in
irregular troops, swinging and twirling their
long lances in boisterous and impatient sport»
Many of them had passed the village, and were
advancing upon the southward road, in a man-
ner that crushed Farneley's hopes of immediate
retreat. But what looked most serious and
gave — if it may be said — dignity to alarm, was
the presence of large masses of halberdiers and
pole-axe men ; as yet, chiefly in the distance.
Strings of sumpter cattle could also be distin-
guished ; giving indication of a purpose beyond
the ordinary duration of a foray.

After the astounded esquire had collected
the recited details by a comprehensive glance,
he found, beneath his immediate ken, what spe-
cially engaged attention. This was the com-
motion in Bleaklaw itself. In particular, he
noticed, that around a small chapel or detached
monastic cell, seated conspicuously on the verge

30 OTTER^OUllNE.

of the hamlet, groups of men at arms loitered
about, and esquires tended the barbed steeds
of imperious owners, obviously, as it seemed,
engaged in conference within the little building,
'erected for other and holier objects. The nu-
merous banners that floated above the heads of
those who waited without, proclaimed the class
and importance of the unwonted congregation.
To Fameley, indeed, who was familiar with the
arms and devices of all the northern chivalry,
they spoke a full communication. He recog-
nized at once the insignia of the Douglas, the
D unbars, the Lindesey, and the Graeme^y
amongst those of other powerful chiefs ; and
what gave him peculiar concern, he perceived
the royal standard of Scotland. From the last,
he was left to infer that a prince held rule over
the armament.

The silent and solitary region in which the
young esquire had been moving, just before this
impressive spectacle broke upon him, naturally
heightened its effect. For a time, reflection was

OTTERBOURNE. 31

paralyzed in sensation; but it gradually returned,
in all the vivid shapes which could occur to an
acute, revolving mind. Of that order was Far-
neley's, and, moreover, imaginative. He gazed,
and acknowledged impressions unfelt by sober
men of facts.

No prophetic prelude is required to announce
that a thunder-cloud pended, about to burst
over the English march ; and still less did the
unseen observer need a boding admonition.

Intelligibly informed as he now stood, his
wish would have been to effect a hasty retro-
grade, without prying into the village itself, as
had been his original intention, but that no
longer seemed practicable. Hence, he, almost
perforce, adhered to that part of his project.
Readily conceiving that the gathering was des-
tined for other ends than to remain idle and
stationary, he believed it the safest step left to
take. Concealed in the hovel of his poor ac-
quaintance, he thought he might lurk secure
until the coast became suflBciently clear to allow

32 OTTERBOURNE.

of his crossing the intervening country to Aln*
wick.

If aught had been wanting to confirm this
resolve, he presently found it. For, taking a
backward view, he casually descried the iK)n-
descript gownsman, whom he left in trust,
mounted on his horse and scampering at ut-
most speed up the distant counter rise. He
could not be mistaken, for the loose gray frock
of the worthy puffed and streamed conspicu-
ously in the wind. To bestow a hearty ban
upon the faithless flier, was his first impulse;
his second, to pray wings to his flight. When
it is added, that he likewise discovered some of
the advanced spears giving signs of a disposi-
tion to pursue, his quick change of sentiment
lacks no explanation.

Fameley did not, it must be confessed, fail
to anathematize (as men ever do when unsuc-
cessful) the rashness which had created his
awkward predicament : but after having taken
the customary self-vengeance in muttered

OTTERBOURNE, 33

** dolts!" and "fools!" he set himself to fur-
ther action. He well knew the inutility of pon-
dering for hours upon movements which must
finally be the work of minutes.

The great world of humanity seems to be
divided into two classes of individuals; these
framed for doing, those endowed for thinking.
Yet, like soul and body, they are indispensable
to each other. Counsel must direct energy,
and energy await counsel, but the qualities are
seldom united. Where they are so powerfully^
the certain product is a man successfully emi-
nent. People noted for profundity of thought
and acuteness of deduction, are generally averse
to exertion, and little gifted with what are termed
popular qualities. They probably like passing
well, to " look on the great Babel,'' though not
*' to feel the crowd.'' Philosophers, who have
taught wisdom to mankind, have often been
found incapable of facing difficulties which a
hundred blockheads would overcome without

c3

34 OTTERBOURNE.

even being aware of their existence. Nor is the
cause an enigma ; the nervous irritibihty assign-
able to highly-exercised minds, affords an ample
apology, as well as a solution. What really
is, however, matter for speculation, is whether
this diversity of attributes be not a charitable
ordination in favour of the brainless. Arguing
on the received opinion, that Providence impar-
tially equalizes our shares of good and evil, may
it not be assumed that a strong spirit is given
to balance the insignificance of a weak intel-
lect, and delicate fibres associated to clog the
predominance of a powerful. To glance at the
general principle ; — how frequently do we find
genius stifled by poverty, and wealth wasted on
imbecihty; ugliness, aided by address, and
beauty insipid, because inane. The soul of
Caesar in the body of a pigmy, and the propor-
tions of a Hercules enshrining only the bmtal
iornorance of Caliban ! But why have we trou-
bled thee, reader, with the above disquisition,

OTTERBOURNE. 35

which thou mayest find savouring of truism?
Why, simply — because we intended to record
the Esquire Fameley, an exception to the law
inferred, as capable in head no less than vigor-
ous of hand.

36 OTTERBOUKNE,

CHAPTER III.

Did I not charge jou to keep your doors shut, Isbel ? and
you let them be open to all comers.

Every Man in his Humour.

The inhabitants of Bleaklaw were, for the
most part, half savage boors ; and the remain-
der, vagrant settlers. Amongst the latter order
vi^as Leonard Tyzack, a fabricator of leathern
jerkins for the bipeds, and saddlery for the
quadrupeds, in his scanty neighbourhood. To
the hovel of that humble artizan, with the loca-
tion of which he chanced to be familiar, Far-
neley directed his way ; not, however, by the
most obvious passage, but re-descending the
hill and continuing his circumbendibus.

Here might much paper and patience be de-
voted to an elaborate, but useless description,

OTTERBOURNE. 37

of the favouring swells and fern clumps which
shadowed the esquire's windings until he reached
a narrow ravine that ran close along the back of
the hamlet. It is omitted only from a convic-
tion that no accumulation of words could con-
vey a true picture to the mind's eye. Such pen
and ink sketches are often tried, but generally
prove mere mystifications. By the way, it would
not be an unamusing experiment, to task dif-
ferent draughtsmen to pencil out each a land-
scape from any one of these delineations — verbal
(and verbose), and then contrast diversities.

Driving through the rank grass and tangle
that encumbered the friendly rift just alluded
to, he at length found himself divided from
Tyzack's cabin only by a wretched herb garden,
extending from its rear towards his position.
Into this he hastily forced a way, and ap-
proached the miserable postern. The latch he
raised, and was about to push open the door,
when he found it suddenly thrust against him,
and a bolt shot. Almost at the same instant a

38 OTTERBOURNE.

shrill voice was heard, shrieking to some other
person, that an " unhanged reiver had gotten
into the kale garth."

A pause ensued ; during which, Farneley per-
ceived more than one pair of eyes viewing him
through the apertures of a rude lattice — and not
without some misgiving At last, a swart face,
overhung by a pendant thatch of black hair, both
loaded with the unctuous dew of a sultry day's
toil, was poked into sight.

"Ewhow!" ejaculated the head, in tones of
mingled anger and apprehension, " Wha ha' we
here ? Wist ye to be amang the southron cot-
tars already, that ye make high road through
quiet folks' kale and pot-yerbs ? Let me warn
ye, chield, I ha' well-wishers wi' the lords o'er
bye, that 'ill no see me harried without right or
reason." The speaker it must be stated, used an
exaggerated Scottish accent, evidently affected ;
but neither in that, nor in his naturdl one, is it
desirable to imitate him.

It was clear that Tyzack imagined his visitor

OTTERBOURNE. 39

to be some licentious follower of the assemblino
army, and spoke accordingly. Farneley with-
drew his hood, and undeceived him.

*' Linny," said he, addressing him by the
famiUar contraction to which he was exclu-
sively accustomed, " open your eyes— know a
friend.''

" What !— the Squire Raim— ?*'

*' Who saved thy bones at Caplestone edge.
If thou art satisfied, admit me straight, and do
not bandy names."

" Why, Sir Squire, know ye the peril ?" que-
ried Tyzack, in dubitative mood.

" Aye, man, and thee, too. Thou shalt have
guerdon worth a double risk ; so open — quick.''

" Nay, I'll serve a friend, were't only for the
novelty o' meeting one I could call by the name,
and not know I lied."

" But, now I recollect, Linny, you have some
one with you ?"

" Only my wife," said the other, opening the

40 OTTERBOURNE*

door. " Please to come in — I wish I could say,
take your ease as well."

Farneley incontinently stepped into the single
smoky apartment of which the whole dwelling
consisted ; and, in due time, was seated by the
hearth on a stool raked out of a corner and
dusted for his use. Tyzack, himself, resumed
certain operations of his craft, which he was
employing for the benefit of a dilapidated
gambeson, the tough vest worn under armour
to obviate its painful pressure. He was a broad
shouldered bony fellow, who might have cleared
his passage creditably through a melte ; but
that he laboured under a physical infirmity.
An accident at birth had crippled one of his
lower limbs — or rather had stunted its growth
— for there was no excessive deformity; inso-
much, that, though of average stature when
elevated on his healthy supporter, he sunk at
the next remove to dwarfish dimensions. His
visage was long and square ] and, together with

OTTERBOURNE. 41

a vinegar expression, had much of that pecuha-
rity which an admired writer has justly asserted
often to accompany bodily malformation.

" Well, how tides it with thee, Gaffer?" said
the esquire, by way of opening civility.

" 111 enough, Sir Squire. I see present po-
verty and more making ready : — a thing neither
good to sleep on, nor wake on/'

" Truly, I believe not ; but thou hast got new
comfort, in a dame, since last I saw thee.''

" I've been simple enough to seek for't,"
muttered the other, with a meaning shrug, which
evidently gave great umbrage in the quarter
under allusion, though the stranger's presence
restrained retort.

" Ye'll grant me grace," he resumed, apolo-
gizing for the seeming neglect implied by his
unpostponed handicraft; " I've got my time
filled here less to my will, than my need. An'
upsetting Scot has tasked me to new thong his
buff jerkin; and says, if it be not ready at his

42 OTTERBOI3RNE.

call, he'll raise my crown in bumps like the top
of Eildon. A bots on him !"

" / ought not to complain of it," answered
Fameley ; " for, mayhap, it is most owing thereto
that I have found thee at home, when so much
is to be seen out of doors. And now, Linny,
that I have lighted luckily, let us mingle wits a

measure

I"

He then condensed into a few sentences an
exposition of his situation and views ; inviting
the jerkin-maker's opinion thereon. He had the
less scruple in being open with him ; in that,
besides his claim for grateful return, he knew
him to hate, with a perversity not singular, the
very people near whom he chose to abide. In
the course of their communing he elicited a few
further facts, but of a nature merely to add
minutiae to his previous surmises, without lead-
ing them forward. Two princes of the blood,
and all the chiefs he had supposed, were actually
assembled in the little chapel ; and at council,

OTTERBOURNE. 43

as was understood, upon the fittest route to
enter England. Bleaklaw, centrically fixed
upon the border, had apparently heen appointed
a rendezvous for that purpose ; but before this
very morning, its isolated cottars had no idea of
witnessing such an imposing meeting.

**Tell me, Tyzack," said Raimond, "since
thou hast only like myself a shrewd guess at
the bent of this embattlement, can thy cunning
devise no means of learning more ? The Lord
Warden hath an open coffer, man, for those who
do the march good service.'*

" If my pouch be lined from such a store,
^twill be for once and away," replied Linny,
sourly.. " 'Tis small gift I've to hope from your
lording leaders ! There lives not one, o' the
whole tote, that ever did or ever will, offer me
day bread.'' He accompanied the speech with
a glance, half bitter — half reckless, at his cur-
tailed limb, and then bent over his work as if
to conceal any symptoms of feeling.

" Ah ! Linny. Fortune has, indeed, dealt

44 OTTERBOURNE-

hardly with thee ! " said Farneley, somewhat
touched, as we mostly are by the involuntary
plaint of a stern nature ; " else thy broad back
had born harness with the best. As it is "

" I have leave to grumble and curse her
spite" — took up the other, wishing to be rid of
the subject, "With regard to your question :
— when Pve freed my hand I'll hie abroad, and,
doubtless, pick up some droppings to the point.
Meanwhile, thou art hungry belike. Mab
(caUing to his spouse, who was busied at a
window watching the stirrage without), put the
bits o' trouts nimble Dickon left yestr'een to
brander, and see if you can comfort a fasting
stomach. I doubt, tho', you'll make a poor fend
at table decking."

At the summons, Mabel came forward, and
removing the fish from a hazel twig whereon
they were strung, proceeded to discharge her
culinary function. A word of her. — She was
much younger than her husband, and moreover
a straight bouncing wench ; though slightly re-

OTTERBOURNE. 45

commended in her coarse wyliecot, and soiled
barme-cloth, or apron. But for a dishevelled
superabundance of flaming red locks, and a
general sluttishness of air, she might have set
up some pretension to good looks. Her skin
was smooth, and person plump. If her vacant
countenance could be said to have any expres-
sion, it was of a lax and giddy nature.

Any one comparing the couple would have
hesitated to believe that Tyzack had been the
free choice of his partner; yet such was the
fact. He had encountered her in her native
town of Dunse during a late peregrination, and
prevailed on her to leave it in his company. By
" what conjuration, and what mighty magic''
he gained dominion over her heart, is unknown.
After all, stranger unions are continually wit-
nessed. Whence, let those explain who under-
stand the sympathies and attractions — the wishes
and weaknesses that govern frail humanity.

Whilst Mabel hung over the peat fire, blush-

46 OTTERBOURNE.

ing, not for but from, her employment, she
favoured Farneley from time to time with a
leering regard which showed that whatever
might formerly have influenced her taste, she
was now by no means insensible to the charms
of fair exterior. The youth, though far from
being habitually flinty to tender overtures, had,
at present, no perception for such ; and conse-
quently, soon fell below par in her estimation.

" Hark ye to the clatter out bye," observed
Tyzack, as the confusion of sounds increased.
^^ I fear. Sir Squire, we may not long have the
roof to ourselves. Cogs bones ! if you be caught,
'twill bring us both to scathe."

" Tut ! no, hope better, good Linny. My
garb does not invite suspicion, and there is no
reason why thou may'st not entertain a neigh-
bour— an acquaintance — or even a wayfarer."

" Aye, aye, that way it must be ; for one visit
I am sure of," said lanny in a fidget. " My
saucy customer will not forget me."

OTTERBOURNE. 47

" Methinks, the hum we hear bespeaks the
rising of their council. They will begin the
march anon."

**The sooner, still the better, then,'' rejoined
Tyzack. " Mark that, if aught should go amiss,
thou art but a wandering gossip ; /know nought
more of thee. And thou, wench, see thou keep'st
a watch upon thy tongue. I remember me, yon
swaggerer claimed some 'quaintance with thee :
— now, I redd thee, hold no prate with him."

Mabel gave her head a toss, muttering some-
thing in which the words "countryman," and
" will to guide herself," only were audible.
Farneley assured Linny of his intention to avoid
compromising him, whatever might happen.

Even whilst he spoke, the knocking of a
mailed hand upon the door, occasioned in him
a slight trepidation, and made the jerkin-maker
fairly forget his foregoing arrangements.

" Slip out," the latter cried, in a hurried
whisper, — " shp away as ye came in. Yet — no
— De'il seize the innocent ! (an apostrophe to

48 OTTERBOUENE.

Mabel, who had too officiously undone the
latch), she's — bide still — keep thy seat, there's
nought else for't."

By this time the figure of a stalworth young
fellow, half armed, stood on the threshold. His
guise was that of a superior follower to some
chief, but hardly betokening the degree of gen-
tility ; (that is, in Fameley's eye, for no doubt
the Scot boasted ^' gentle blude.") He had a
bluff ruddy aspect, together wdth the hard pro-
minent features peculiar to his nation. They
breathed of reckless license and coarse self-con-
fidence.

A brief greeting of good intelligence passed
'twixt him and the forward Mabel ; after which,
he advanced to the side of her ill-satisfied mate.

" Ho ! Gaffer Pare-hide !" he bawled, in the
loud tones generally affected by people when
they use bold language ; as if they found encou-
ragement in the sound of their own voices ; —
" hast done my turn, man ? — -is the gambeson
ready?"

OTTERBOURNE. 49

" Not just," answered Tyzack, gruffly; for
though disposed by disposition to calculate, he
had a strong spirit when provoked to shew it —
and was so now. " Mayhap, thou think'st no
one has had a godfather but thyself. Please
give me my own name, or none."

" Why, that is as it may be, my surly Jock,'"
rejoined the former, no way abating his inso-
lence. '' What, if I take the office on myself,
and have thee baptized afresh in the next burn.
How wouldst relish that? — eh !"

Tyzack made no reply, but bridled his temper,
and moodily pursued his task. However unre-
fined his mind might be, he keenly felt the
bitter sense of hardship ever endured by un-
happy impotence when trampled on by strength.
A consequence too much disregarded — nay, too
often absolutely unthought of — by brutal jokers.

The Scot did not add any thing further in the
same strain. Probably, having observed Far-
neley, he felt his presence a sort of check. He
eyed him narrowly, but gave no other sign of

VOL, I. D

50

OTT^jlRBOURNE.

notice. The hiss and odour of the frying fish
next claimed interest.

'* Gossip of mine," he resumed, addressing
Mabel familiarly: "thou art making savoury
promise there. I would I might cry shares."

" Ou ! that thou mayst, with a welcome,"
was the ready answer of the smirking female ;
" an' sail ha' the first, as ye're may be hurried."

" Gramercy, my daw !" replied he, looking
vainly round for a place to bestow himself: —
" but wist ye I bring my stool, as an old woman
does to a tripe-feast?"

" Or, as unbidden comers should, to any
feast," added Linny, in a growl.

" Whew ! — Never thou speak till the cat
mews, then cry — hah ! now comes my turn,"
was the sharp slighting rejoinder.

Whilst Tyzack was brewing a retort, Mabel
cast her eyes upon Raimond, who leaned thought-
fully on the only table the cabin contained. He
had lost all favour in her eyes, from the cause
before denoted ; and even had it not been so^

OTTERBOURNE. 51

she had found " metal more attractive.'' *^Aut
amat, aut odit mulier.^'

" Good man," said she, stooping to his ear
and elevating her voice, " sit ye bye a bit, while
I serve Maister Ormiston here wi' a morning
chack ; he has least time to spare."

Overlooking the rudeness of the demand, Far-
neley, from common prudence, was about to
comply quietly, when he was unexpectedly re-
strained by the irritated Tyzack.

" Keep thy seat, friend," said the last-named
person, assaying a dry and easy manner. " My
woman is little better than a fool, and knows no
touch of courtesy; — Heaven help her!"

"Heaven help thee, Old Crossgrain!" ex-
claimed the Scot. " By all its saints, she's the
better o' the brace, both in blood and breed-
mg!"

"Wow! Linny! what ails thee?" cried Mabel,
*' ye sud'na grudge a civility to Pate Ormiston.
Why, man, there's kin 'at ween us."

" Humph ! aye ! ye're sib as sieve and riddle,
D 2

LIBRARY

^'NIVERS/TY OF fUfNOrs

52 OTTERBOURNE.

that grew i'the same wood together, I fancy/^
said Linny, with a sneer.

" Why, as to that, it is not to be spoken of,"
followed Ormiston, who by no means took pride
in the proclaimed connexion. " Natheless, a
Merse lass should shew a soft heart to a Merse
man without being called to coals."

"A soft heart, quotha!" iterated the jerkin-
maker, grinning with intense bitterness. " Ou,
ay ! soft and yielding, I dare say."

" Whisht now, Linny ! hae care o' mair, or
ye'll maybe abye't," said Mabel, casting a spite-
ful skelly at Farneley. Then, turning to Or-
miston, she invited him to make a settle of the
simple hatch answering for bedstead.

" A goodly rout — here's for a nook o' nought !"
she murmured. " Him an' his frien' ! (empha-
sising the expression), I could waste a breathe
would make him eat in the word, and fye at
the gossipred." A meaning scowl from Linny
silenced her.

Neither the unspoken admonition, nor the

OTTERBOURNE. 53

inuendoes which occasioned it, escaped the no-
tice of the observant Scot. He had just thrown
himself upon the hatch, but immediately after-
wards arose, and crossing the floor, stepped a
single pace beyond the threshold ; as if to look
for some thing, or person, in the crowded road.
He was then seen to beckon to a knot of com-
rades. Whatever his motive, it was evidently
a sudden one ; albeit, that his manner was
rather leisurelv than otherwise.

There was nothing demonstrative in the move-
ment;— it might have had a foreign object; —
but Farneley, with that remarkable intuition
which so impressively instructs us at such times,
knew at once it had relation to himself. He felt
he was suspected, and threatened with, at least,
a scrutiny ; the which he had reason to consider
tantamount to detection. Life, therefore, was
at stake.

So convinced, and being one of those decided
characters who never throw away a chance, how-
ever forlorn, the thought of flight by his original

54 OTTERBOURNE.

mode of entry instantly crossed his brain. The
door stood favourably a-jar, and that completed
the impulse. Without a word, he darted towards
it — cleared the outlet, and sped : — alas ! not far.
He presently found himself grasped, and firmly
detained by the flowing sleeve of his frock. He
turned, and beheld the too-prompt Ormiston.

"Whither away so fast, Jockie?" the latter
chuckled, — " leaving thy nuncheon, too ! that
must needs be for reasons of mark, or I'm no
son of St. Andrew. Ha! — what's this I feel?
— Graith, under thy gown ! Ho, ho ! I did
smoke a fox, but find IVe sprung a wolf." A
brief, but nervous struggle, ensued.

" Nay, yield thee, man !" cried the Scot, well
nigh out of wind. " Thou'rt a pretty boy
enough ; but 'tis no use striving with a dozen
buirdly Merse carles upon thy back. See, they
are here.'*

Raimond looked up, and seeing that such
overpowering force really was closing upon him,
surrendered without further contest.

OTTERBOURNE. 55

CHAPTER IV.

Unhappy Squire, what hard mishap thee brought,
Into this bay of peril 1

Spenser.

After yielding to a might against which it
would have been a mode of suicide to have
offered resistance, Farneley was re-conducted
into the apartment which supplied " kitchen,
parlour, and hall,'' to his humble ally, the
j^erkin-maker. When there, he was roughly and
unceremoniously bound ; for, in those days, the
polite art of stripping durance of its vileness, as
modemly practised by scale of fees, was not un-
derstood even by official myrmidons ; from rude
soldiers no touch of it could be expected.

Great haste marked all the proceedings of
his captors; evidently occasioned by a general

-S^ OTTERBOURNE.

movement of the army calling the men to their
posts. Two were left ultimately to guard him
in the hovel, whilst Ormiston and the rest de-
parted; the former, to take instructions from
his superiors.

Tyzack and his spouse maintained a distant
aspect towards the unlucky esquire^ no doubt
wishing to have it supposed, that they did not
participate in his designs. The man's manner
was, indeed, somewhat subdued ; but the woman,
self-accused of compromising her husband's
safety by the licence of her tongue, now used
the same organ to create a counter-balancing
impression. Like most silly people, however,
she had barely cunning enough to devise a feint,
but wanted tact to make it plausible.

Some time elapsed ere Ormiston re-appeared,
during which the two jackmen audibly cursed
the delay that kept them backward in the bustle
abroad. When he did return, it was mounted
and with lance in rest. Riding up in front of
the cabin, he commanded the prisoner to be

OTTERBOURNE.

67

immediately brought forth ; accosting him, per-
sonally, in loud imperative accents. " Bestir
thyself, sirrah !" he cried, when the other step-
ped into the road. " There lies thy path. Foot
it forward, and briskly, if thou hast no will to
brook the point of my gad in thy flanks."

" Thou art a bold ruffler in safe consort, and
with a hand-fast enemy," retorted Fameley,
with cool contempt. " Prithee, reserve thy
bluster for the first stout Northumbrian you
meet in open field."

" Sayst thou ! John Englisher !" rejoined the
Scot, raising a forced laugh. "I would the
same were the best of thy kin ! I'd score my
mark upon his back."

" Like enough ; — thou wilt not dare to look
him in the face."

" I'll do it soon — and to his cost, natheless."

"Aye! when you catch him sleeping, or
bound, as I am now."

Ormiston, much provoked, issued a volley of
abusive epithets, which Farneley disregarded,

d3

58 OTTERBOURNE.

passively pacing on in the direction pointed to
him. He habitually despised idle bravado, and
disliked prolonged wrangling on any subject.

As they wended to the quarter indicated by
the Scot, which appeared to be that of the
chapel before spoken of, the esquire had oppor-
tunity to remark an intelligible change in the
disposition of the hostile multitude; or rather,
indications which exhibited its tactics ripened
to maturity. One dense and formidable column,
the rear whereof had already cleared the village,
could be traced streaming in long continuous
line towards the hills of Northumberland ; but
the bulk of the armament was assembled in
masses to the westward, as if destined for a dif-
ferent parallel of operations. The first body,
though much the lesser, evidently comprised
the elite of the whole host ; as was evident from
its great strength in efficient men-at-arms, as
well as from the number of knightly pennons
which danced along its extent. Bleaklaw itself
was now much less occupied than heretofore,

OTTERBOURNE. 59

5tnd Was becoming every instant further emp-
tied; all parties verging to join one or other of
the above corps. Upon Farneley, both a prac-
tised soldier and well acquainted with the con-
dition of the borders, the demonstrations visible
were not lost : he immediately, and as it proved
rightly, guessed, that separate expeditions were
intended to sweep, at the same time, the eastern
and western marches of England.

Near the chapel, but apparently just about
to sever company, still lingered a limited group
of the distinguished party that had lately been
congregated therein. The Lion of Scotland,
rampant upon a standard borne by an esquire,
proclaimed the quality of some person or per-
sons present. These the experienced could
easily identify by the blazonry upon the house-
ings of their steeds ; if not by a certain defer-
ence shewn towards them by the remainder.
They were, in fact, the Earls of Fife and Stra-
therne, sons to King Robert, and, nominally at
least, commandant over this great gathering of

60 pTlERBOURNE.

arms. In attendance, may be specialized, Sir
William Douglas, of Liddesdale, a veteran war-
rior, uncle to the Douglas ; and the Earl of
Moray, brother to the restless Dunbar.

Before these personages Farneley was con-
ducted, but found them, as he was at first glad-
dened to observe, little inclined to take concern
about him. The marshalled bands awaited
their respective leaders, and these, in turn,
were equally impatient to join them. So insig-
nificant a circumstance, as the seizure of a
lurking English hind, was not, therefore, likely
to interest very deeply. After a few questions,
the drift whereof being more to learn how far
the English march w-as alarmed than to incul-
pate the prisoner himself, the rough old knight
of Liddesdale broke in upon the examination,

"Come, my lords," he cried, "let us ride.
The moments we waste over this stubborn loon,
are tenfold worth the fullest tale his tongue can
tell were it glib as gallows-doom can make it."'

" Thou art ridit, i'faith ! Sir William,'' re-

otterbourNe:. 61

inforced the Earl of Stratheme. " This is loi-
tering to pick a grain from the road side, whilst
the ripe harvest waits our sickle. Brother, give
the word, away ! or the beacons will blaze from
Solway to the Mersey, ere we have passed the
mosses."

'^ Why let them," said the elder prince, *' we'll
shame them in woeful kind, I warrant me.
Albeit, I stay not willingly. What order shall
we take with this rambling Jack ?"

" Oh ! hang him ! leave his deserts to Mo-
ray's judging," said the old knight; "he may
delay a space, tho' we cannot."

" Then, indeed, he's like enough to hang,"
observed Fife. " But, be it so. My Lord of
Moray, be pleased to take this charge ; and
sith you incline to ride with Douglas, rather
than with us, we give thee farewell! Have
with me, friends ! — the spur for Cumberland !"

No more passed. The princes and their train
struck directly off, leaving behind only Moray
and his immediate followers.

62 OTTERBOXJRNE.

This chieftain was an impersonation of most
of the darker shades which characterized his
ferocious class. Wilful and vindictive himself,
he believed the same sentiments to exist in
every breast. Thus, from a mistaken rage for
retaliation, full more than from a purely san-
guinary spirit, he oft committed cruel acts. A
perverse wrong-headedness was continually lead-
ing him to imagine occasions, wherein he stood
self-warranted to play the demon, under the
idea of playing the man : — that is, such a man
as he conceived an independent chieftain ought
to be. Indeed, it is scarce worthy of remark,
that there never lived a being so accursed in
temper, whose waywardness was not sustained
by some feverish distorted conceit, which, to
his own ill-regulated mind, raised a transient
justification.

He was still young ; in person tall and com-
manding, and of what the admirers of stern
beauty might call a fine mien. Great animal
energy was there depicted, but accompanied by

OTIEKBOURNE. 63

traits that did not recommend to gentle esteem.
" So, Sir Landraker," he began, turning a keen
scintillating gray eye upon Fameley, and com-
pressing his lips after the manner of a person
who resolves not to be trifled with — '^ Thou
would'st keep a close mouth upon us, would'st
thou ? have a care man ; have a care !"

" I am but a simple man, as thou mayst see,
my lord, and cannot speak beyond my know-
ledge," answered Fameley,

" Thy looks belye thy words, springald.
Besides, my henchman spoke of mail beneath
thy gown, and (thrusting on the instant the
butt of his lance against the esquire's breast) if
there's faith in sound, he spoke right truly."

The ringing answer to the blow was irrefut-
able, but Farneley still attempted evasion. He
knew it would be madness to acknowledge his
real commission, and possessed too much prac-
tical sense to task his courage in a desperate
case.

'' It is not strange," said he, '' that those

64 OTTERBOURNE.

who come abroad in a wild country should take
some defence 'gainst evil chances. I confess I
have done so; I confess I am not of Scottish
birth. What then ? 'tis not the wont of war-
riors to mistreat the peaceful wayfarer."

" Prate not, sir knave, but tell me direct —
what did'st thou here beyond the English ter-
ritory?"

" I knew not I was here beyond it," replied
the esquire, sincerely, but injudiciously.

" Ho ! you did not ?" said Moray, with an
ominous drawl, " we'll acquaint thee with the
landmark ; and that, in such fashion, thou
shalt not err again. Well, Sir Henchman !
what ha'st got to say ?"

The concluding question was addressed to our
acquaintance Ormiston, who, with Tyzack and
Mable in custody, had tacitly invited attention.

" I have brought here, my lord, the crafty
carle that gave the Englisher harbourage ; may-
hap, if it like you to task him, he may content
your doubts/'

OTTERBOURNE. 65

His lord returned a nod of approbation, and
forthwith proceeded to catechize Tyzack as to
his coo'nizance of the affair.

The jerkin-maker, elevating himself upon his
sound limb, and entwining its defective fellow
round his staff for a support, rephed to every
question with a steady, stolid aspect. He pro-
fessed utter ignorance of his late guest, ex-
cept as a passing stranger, who had claimed
temporary rest and refreshment, with proffer of
guerdon.

"Out on it!" exclaimed Moray, his impa-
tience taking the stronger vent, in that it had
been hitherto somewhat restrained. " Am I to
be detained behind my knightly peers by such
a trumpery cavil as this — and would be cozened ?
By the rood ! Prickers ; beat me these two
rascaille cheats, and soundly. Thwack 'em
with your gad-staves till they come to duty.
As for the younger, if you leave him a sounder
body than his crippled 'complice, you spare a
rank foe to Scotland."

66 OTTERBOURNE.

This harsh and unfeeling order was about to
have been executed by vassals to w^hom a breath
was a law, when Ormiston, who had for the
last few minutes been in close confab with
Mabel, thrust himself again forward.

*' My lord," said he, " the good wife here
bids me ask you spare her gaffer's bones, and
she will possess you with all you wish to
know."

" An' she caw, she shall. Hither gammer !
Out with thy story?"

Hereupon Mabel drew near, and disclosed
the true state of facts. Though she could not
be suspected of any very violent affection for
her spouse, she was still enough of the wife to
conclude by an earnest petition for his pardon.

" Away With, him, then, I care not for the
mome," were the words which conveyed a
contemptuous assent.

** Tis as I suspected, after all !" ejaculated
the chief, turning a deeply louring brow upon
Farneley. " Thou, sirrah, art then an emissary

OTTERBOURNE. 67

sent to do the work of the hot-blooded English
Warden?"

The esquire, conscious that policy could now
av^il no more, erected his person, and resumed
the bold front he had for a season been induced
to forego. He returned Moray's frowning
scrutiny with an unblenching glance.

" I fight for king Richard," said he, proudly,
" and in his service obey Sir Henry Percy —
Hotspur, you, and most Scots have heard of
him." The latter words were enunciated to
convey a meaning fully caught by the fiery
hearer.

"Varlet — minion!" he vociferated. " Darest
thou to taunt a Scottish noble?"

" I have spoken to a quick comprehension.
The name moves thee."

" As would the owner did he stand before me.
By the shored cross of St. Andrew, I will be
fain to meet the mad-brain ! he lacks a lesson."

" He may, seeing that he has never had a
master."

68 OTTERBOURNE.

Moray scowled upon the fearless speaker,
and handled for a moment the heavy sperthe at
his saddle-bow, as if well nigh moved to be
himself the executioner of vengeance. To stc-
count for his extreme ire, it is sufficient to say,
that he had more than one reminiscence of dis-
comfiture angrily freshened.

" Thou,should'st have a stout heart, whipster,
to venture thus to beard the Moray ;" said he
grimly ; " but feel for it, boy, and hold it firm,
for thy last sand is running. Were it but to put
outrance 'twixt thy lord and me, thou shalt die
the death,"

These were awful sounds, and uttered by no
trifler, but Raimond bore them worthily. His
condition of humanity might internally shudder,
yet did not the spirit of the trained warrior
quail.

" Do thy worst," said he steadily. " To God
I bequeath my soul, and to Percy, the duty of
reveno-e!"

'* Ormiston," growled Moray, in a deep husky

OTTERBOURNE. 69

voice, that bespoke the fixed ruthlessness of his
intentions, " I must forward. To thee I leave
the charge of dealing fate upon this Enghsh-
inan. Drag him, bound as he is, to yonder
burn ; — throw him into its deepest eddy ; — and
see that your lances aid the bubbhng water in
its work. I promised to learn him well where
we do fix our boundary, and have not forgotten
it. When my behest is done, his blood will tinge
the line. Would it were ever ruddy from such
veins !"

A womanish wail issued from the lips of the
weak-headed Mabel, and something like a sup-
pressed groan from those of the few villagers who
gaped around, at the horrid doom thus sum-
marily pronounced. They were, however, more
touched by the youth and prepossessing exterior
of the victim, than startled at an occurrence,
shocking in itself, but unhappily not strange.

This was unnoticed by the boiling-blooded
chieftain, and disregarded by his brutal vassals.
The first, indeed, immediately quitted the spot ;

70 OTTERBOURNE.

and of the last, only Onniston and a chosen few
remained. The earl's party, proceeding at a
gallop on the track of the eastward verging
column, was soon lost in distance.

The frightful penalty now about to be visited
upon the unlucky and too adventurous Fameley,
was one no way unusual in the lawless times,
and amongst the fierce race of which we write.
The nearest tree, or the nearest pool {fossa et
furca) were then indifferently made the instru-
ments of, what would doubtless be called justice.
With such a custom, our common saw — " that
he who is bom to hang, will never drown," would
lose its chief application.

Raimond was not peculiarly gifted with the
indurated nerves — the phlegmatic stoicism which
enables some men to look the " grisly king'^ in
the face with entire composure — neither was the
suddenness of his approach calculated to lessen
the involuntary throes of nature in such an awful
situation. The truant blood, might, therefore,
leave his cheek a little pale ; but, fortified by

OTTERBOURNE. 71

mental intrepidity, and the high sense of man-
hood begot by his martial associations, he sus-
tained a firm and noble carriage under this, the
severest of all trials.

" Englishman!" said Ormiston, terminating
a momentary pause which succeeded the depar-
ture of Moray ; " thy minutes are of the briefest.
If thou hast ought to do, or say, — be speedy."

" Something, I have," returned Farneley ;
a slight quivering of his lip, denoting rather a
gush of mournful retrospections than an ac-
cession of personal tremors ; " 'tis not much.**'
Here, casting round an inquiring look, his regards
fell upon the caustic visage of Tyzack, now re-
laxed by unequivocal signs of sorrow. " Leo-
nard," he resumed, " thou hast heard of Miles
Farneley, of the Newcastle ?"

" I have — he was Tynedale bred."

" He was. Wilt thou here promise me, by
the Holy Rood ! to hie thee to his dweUing
with the last sad remembrance of his son?"

" I will— I will !" croaked the affected cripple.

72 OTTERBOUUNE.

" Oh ! Master Farneley, I trust you blame me
not, because of yonder idiot's doings. I'd ha'
borne a hundred beatings ere it should ha' come
to this."

^^ I believe thee, Linny ; and did I not, my
hour of enmity is past — to all. The thought
reminds me of a further wish I fear cannot be
granted me." "•■

" And what is that?" demanded Ormiston,
to whom Farneley had, in some sort, by a me-
chanical action, addressed his concluding as-
piration.

" The blessing and counsel of a holy man."

" That, indeed, thou canst not have," was
the prompt rejoinder. " See !" he continued,
speaking to his fellows, " already does the rear-
ward of our army draw from sight. Archie, do
thou dismount and lift the prisoner to thy seat,
then, up behind. The water lies upon our way,
so let us on. Come, Sir Southron, we bide no
longer."

"You must, you shall!" interposed a mild

OTTERBOURNE. 73

but sonorous voice. *' I understood this devoted
being to call for the succours of the church*
In the name of that church and all its
blessed Saints ! I command ye, permit him his
request?"

Tlie speaker, upon whom every eye instantly
turned, proved to be the officiating priest of the
adjoining chantry ; v^^ho, attracted from his cell,
had just caught the import of the occasion.
He was a grave, ascetical Dominican, with a
beard, broad and spreading, after what was
called the " cathedral" style. He took post
before Ormiston with all the dignified assurance
of the tonsure. That individual, though some-
what awed, was still disposed to remonstrate.

" Holy father," said he, " this man has been
ordered to the death by the Lord of Moray,
my master; empowered to deal with him, as
well in his own right, as byword of license from
the Earl of Fife. It will be at our proper peril,
should we postpone a duty over which we have
been, as it is, too long detained."

VOL. I. E

74 OTTER BOURNE.

** If he hath been judged as thou sayest,"
rejoined the monk, " it belongs not to me to
question your final deed. But in regard to the
unhappy one's demand to taste the comforts of
my sacred function, it cannot be withstood.
Nay, oppose not. On the salvation of thy ever-
lasting soul ! — if thou would'st have thy steps
uncursed on earth ! I charge thee leave him to
me, for a time."

The power of ignorant superstition, if not a
sense of religious reverence, prevailed.

" Well, father, for one half glass, I maynot,
perhap, gainsay — after, not an instant. By my
life !" he continued, pointing to the far receding
lances ; " we'll have blown horses, mates, be-
fore we o'ertake company."

If ever a minister of God's high altar appears
to marked advantage, it is in perfomiing acts
like the foregoing. There is something at once
grateful and imposing in the idea of a reverend
man, himself purified from, and elevated above,
human passions, standing forth betwixt weak-

OTTERBOURNE. 76

ness and power; between the enraged avenger
and the suppliant culprit; reconciling, or re-
buking enemies ; crossing either, even in the
height of anger, yet respected and obeyed by
both, from the mere conviction of his universal
benevolence and paternal care for all. Turbu-
lent and unprincipled as men may be, — ran-
corous as may be the spirit with which they, at
times, pursue each other, — they are still chastened
by a common disposition to admire, and, as it
were, repose on, such patriarchal mediators.
What a pity their existence should be more a
beau ideal f than a spectacle of experience !

The zealous monk led Fameley into the in-
terior of his cell ; whereabout, whilst they pur-
sued their devotions, the ill-contented Scots kept
a vigilant watch.

In the interim, our attention is demanded
elsewhere.

e2

76 OTTERBOURNE.

CHAPTER V.

Jog on, friend, there's a porter's lodge else.
And dog-whips kept for saucy comers.

Grateful Servant.

Noel Spalding, the gray friar whom we
last saw hurrying off upon the steed of the
Northumbrian esquire, was a character cu-
riously at variance with the times in which he
flourished. Son to the manciple of a religious
community, he had been bred a monk, without
any disposition of his own towards a life of
holiness and celibacy. He had, indeed, a dis-
taste for the moping restrictions of the cloister
and was a despiser of musty rules. It is, there-
fore, not strange that he ultimately forsook the
warm and peaceful foundation on which he had

OTTERBOURNE. 77

been nurtured, and attached himself to the
more congenial, because unsettled, fraternity of
St. Francis.

He was, however, by no means insensible to
the substantial duties of his calling ; and was as
far fitted for it as a thirst and aptitude for
clerkly learning could make him. Before his
restless inclinations caused him to wander, he
had become reasonably imbued with all the
wisdom, distilled to Europe by the " subtle,
irrefragable, and ineffable,"doctorsof his century.

From the roving nature of his life, he had
come much in contact with the poorer yeomanry,
for whom the peculiar turn of his mind gave
him a predilection : whilst the powerful class of
feudal palatines, he hated by an obvious re-
bound. A clearness of perception, which, look-
ing to the period, may be termed precocious,
led him to view with disgust the prevailing
usurpations of man over man, and enabled him
to detect the emptiness of the knightly and
priestly dogmata wherewith they were main

78 OTTERBOURNE.

tained. Bearing such a spirit, and of an ob-
stinate temper, it may easily be surmised that
his conduct would often invite contumelies tend-
ing to confirm and intensify his sentiments.
And what served to estrange him, even from
the church itself, he had embraced the then
spreading doctrines of WicklilFe the reformer.

Thus constituted and opinionated, it is not mat-
ter of wonder that Noel should have made one of
those broken priests, who, by their preachings
and incitement, had a few years before roused
the populace under Wat Tyler, Jack Straw,
and others, into the enormities then committed.
Marked for his share in these transactions, he
had fled to Scotland : whence we find him now
returning ; partly in the hope that his person
and conduct were forgotten at home, and partly
that he had there also contrived to render re-
sidence dangerous.

Raimond Fameley, as being the retainer of a
great feudator}'^, w^as not precisely the sort of
person to engage the regard of Spalding, yet,

OTTERBOURNE. 79

nevertheless, he had done it in a considerable
degree. First, a certain bland and confiding
manner had disarmed the other's prejudices;
and secondly, the name of his lord contained a
commanding charm. The Earl of Northumbei'-
land had been, as is well known, a generous,
protector to the enlightened divine of Lutter-
worth, and the fact was approvingly remem-
bered by the Fmnciscan ; coupled with a hope
that he might secure some such favour for him-
self. When, therefore, he undertook the office
charged on him by the esquire, it was with a
sincere determination to execute it to the best of
his ability. Nay, more, he saw the youth set
off on his hazardous enterprize with a real in-
terest in his success.

Of this, if the undue lapse of time did not
fairly warrant a doubt, the same was soon for-
cibly suggested in another way. Fore-scouring
spears gradually straggled into his view, and their
advance quickly became too unequivocal to
leave him any choice of proceeding. He gave

80 OTTERBOURNE.

up the esquire as lost, and prepared to perform
the ulterior clause of his instructions. Mount-
ing, then, the mettled animal he held, he urged
him, with awkward method, to his speed ; and
thanks to the unwonted lightness of an un-
mailed rider, it was such as presently defied
pursuit.

With praiseworthy endurance, for it was much
to his bodily detriment, the friar kept up his
gallop until the broken surface of the waste
country he traversed compelled him to relax.
A new embarrassment then assailed him. There
was no visible track, and he was totally igno-
rant of the land-marks which directed the few
who had occasion to use them. Not one soli-
tary boor could he detect in sight, of whom to
ask information. Still he pressed on, hoping,
at any rate, in time, to arrive at some peel or
village where he might be forwarded in his no-
vel expedition. Hours, however, slipped away
without his nearing any such haven,- and, after
alJ, on noticing the forms of the surrounding

OTTERBOURNE. 81

hills, he had reason to suspect he had latterly
been making only an unprofitable circuit.

At length, whilst driving up an ascent, from
which he expected to improve his prospect, he
gladly hailed a horseman crossing its brow and
coming down towards him. They speedily
closed together.

The stranger proved a hard-featured hirsute
fellow, with long sprawling limbs, but great
apparent sinew. His physiognomy by no means
indicated creditable propensities; yet at the
same time avouching nothing villanous. He
was invested in a rusty iron cap and plate jack;
and carried in his hand an extremely long gad,
or lance. From a leathern girdle round his loins
depended a straight heavy sword, and also a
pouch and knife. The horse that bore him, an
active dun gelding, had a sheep's skin thrown
over it in the way of housing, though probably
employed for some purpose of humble utility.
Its own coat was almost equally rough. The
wild looks of the man, his uncared-for equip -

e3

82 OTTERBOURNE.

ment, unpolished arms, and the locality itself,
apprised Spalding that he beheld a free snatcher
of the dales.

*^ 'Shfe ! sir gray gown," cried this wight,
reining up in front of the friar in such manner
as to force him to do the like. " Ride ye on the
devil's post, or St. Dunstan's, that ye clatter
on at such a pace, and in such trim? hey !''

" Be not irreverent, friend,'^ answered Noel.
*' Or, if thou wilt name a blessed saint in the
same breath with the father of evil, at least give
the first precedence.''

" Why that is but fair, I beg his saintship's
grace ! What dost thou on the mosses ?"

" In good sooth ! I do an office for which I
have had little preparation. Prithee, possess
me with the nearest road to Alnwick ?"

The borderer's embrowned leathery visage
darkened.

" So ho," he exclaimed, " then, mayhap,
thou art a hound of the Warden's pack, out on
scent after the doings of honest livers here. I

OTTERBOURNE. 83

marvel you should not know your way, and
more, that thou should'st ask it from Hugh of
Hawden !"

" Rude Sir of Hawden, you mistake : though
a poor clerk, I serve no master but Him in
Heaven."

The free pricker, who had been narrowly eye-
ing the animal that bore the other, here inter-
rupted him.

" I have been noting thy nag," said he, " and
find his points familiar. But a day gone, I saw
him bestrode by one for whom I ought to have
some liking. Well I wot thou art not he."

'•' The steed is, indeed, not mine. Would
the true owner had him at this moment, to do
the behest on which I now am bent."

" Um ! where then is he ?"

" I fear in bad hands."

"How say'st thou''" demanded the self-
heralded Hugh, apparently concerned by the
inteUigence. " Speak fully of him, man ; I
have more care in this than thou may'st think."

84 OTTERBOURNE.

Spalding complied, giving a hasty summary
of the morning's events ; w^herein the dalesman
seemed, by his anxious questions, to take both
a general and a special interest.

" 'Sblood and bones !" he at last muttered,
'' here is a seething-pot about to leap the brim !
a scalding drench to w^asli the English march !
So great a force abroad will hardly leave a
single Hab in homestead; on the border lands
at least. There's work for thee, Hugh."

*^ And for more beside," said Spalding.
'^ Come, speed me on my course."

^* Why aye, there is good cause !" returned
Hugh, his manner changing into friendly zeal.
" See'st thou von double niked law ? make to it :
that passed, thou wilt find, now house — now hall
to lend thee aid and furtherance. On, on !
God 'eild thee ! my path shapes elsewhere.".

They separated ; the friar resuming his former
pace, the borderer darting away at such an in-
creased one, as shewed that a new impetus had
been given to his movements.

OTTERBOURNE. 85

When Spalding reached the crown of the
eminence last indicated to him, he obtained, as
he was bid to expect, a view over a more level
and promising country. In the midst thereof,
and not at any great distance, rose a building,
which, like all mansions of any importance in
this turbulent region, had the appearance of a
little fortalice. The track he believed himself
bound to pursue (for he could now trace some
such thing) swept within a few furlongs of it.
Thither, therefore, he immediately conceived
the notion of resting for a brief while ; as well
to refresh himself and animal, as to warn the
castellain, whoever he might be, of the impend-
ing mischief.

The little strong-hold consisted of but one
irregular tower, based in the midst of some in-
ferior defences, and surrounded by a moat:
which latter, owing to the drought of the season,
was almost dry. Its foundations occupied the
centre of a smooth elevation, swelling gradually
out of the adjoining plain. The gentle slopes

86 OTTERBOURNE.

of this afforded grateful pasturage, and were at
present scattered o'er with black cattle. A few
rugged stunted trees also diversified these
inclines, and broke pleasantly the otherwise
insipid hill of green sward.

Noel, as has been hinted, was no lover of
great men's halls, and would willingly have
passed this by, but that the cravings of nature
were reinforced by the duties of patriotism. As
it was, he pricked roundly towards the gate.
In his progress he met with more difficulty than
he had bargained for, owing to the starting and
running of the unruly herd grazing around,
among which he had occasion to use his staff
pretty lustily. The exercise did not tend to
dulcify or moderate a humour already over-
wrought on by the pressure of his mission. No
sooner, therefore, did he reach the barbican,
than he proceeded, both by voice and hand, to
raise a vehement call upon the indwellers,

A division of the great portal incontinently
opened, and a sleek, saucy-faced man, in a long

OTTERBOURNE. 87

blue gown and badge, with a porter's headed
staff in hand, stood in the vacancy.

The friar's appearance has been before charac-
terized as equivocal ; at this moment, mounted
on the charger of a man at arms, soiled and
perspiring with travel, it was doubly so, and
certainly excused the offensive scrutiny which
the porter thought proper to bestow upon him.

*' Thou clamourest mighty loudly,'' said the
latter, " and thy knocking is somewhat of the
hardest. What may be thy demand V
" What place is this, and who it's lord ?"

" The tower of Corsenside, and pshaw ?

I am beside myself to answer? Was this all
thy business ?"

'^ No ; I claim the usages of hospitality."
" By the saihng boat * of St. Cuthbert ! thou
art a right worshipful person, to shake a noble
knight's gates on their hinges, with so free a

* The remains of the Saint are said to have voyaged down the
Tweed in a stone coffin.

88 OTTERBOURNE.

guest, yet not e'en know his name. Who, and
what art thou, i' the fiend's name?"

" It matters not to thee. The portal key is
thy charge, look to it, and no more. Admit me
to thy lord, and straightway."

" That threadbare gown will hardly be thy
passport."

" Sir Porter, I have business 'twill be costly
to delay. Once more I say, let me have speech
of thy lord."

" Methinks the seneschal may do thy turn."

" Well, be it the seneschal then ; only chaffer
no longer, but bring him to me, or me to him."

" Nay, thou shalt stay without, wer't but to
teach thee manners. I'll bring him to thee,
sith it must be so."

Then, churlishly leaving the friar at the gate,
the porter disappeared to seek the functionary
in question ; doubtless highly affronted at the
imperative tone held by one whom he considered
so unworthy to use it.

He returned unexpectedly soon, attending a

OTTERBOURNE. 89

tall old man, plainly attired in a long close
cassock of murrey coloured cloth, girded round
the loins with a silken cord, from which de-
pended a purse of the same materials. His
head was covered by a cap of minever, not very
new, and his silver locks escaping from under
it in abundance,

" prored the years his front dissembled well."

Powerful, indeed, must his frame once have
been, for it looked so, even in its decay. His
cheek was still ruddy, though with a broken
colour ; and his eye peered lively from beneath
a white and shaggy penthouse. Thick but
silvery mustachios fringed his upper lip, and
gave a kind of martial severity to a venerable
visage.

Now this as it chanced, was the lord of the
domain himself, who, disturbed by the noise,
had met and interrogated the porter in the court-
yard. Being of a hasty, irascible temperament,
and receiving from his servant an unmeasured

90 OTTERBOUBNE.

account of the stmnger's conduct, he had been
moved to approach in person.

*' Ho, la !'* he exclaimed, on gaining sight
of Spalding, "why 'tis the same runagate lout we
noted but now, playing a mad coranto 'mongst
the nolt. Think'st thou we keep an hostel,
knave, that, drunk already, thou should'st brawl
for more about our doors ?"

JNToel, viewing the person before him only as
the superior domestic that had been named to
him, was ill disposed to tolerate this mode of
address. His ever-sturdy love of independence
at this, as oft at other times, shewed almost
like a weakness. " Be not uncivil, friend," he
replied, in the hard dry manner that had be-
come habitual to him, *' My coming merits
thanks and not abuse."

" Gad's mercy!" interjected the old cavalier;
who, from having lost his two front teeth (the
rest being singularly strong and sound), spurted
out his words somewhat indistinctly ; here's a
perked up dawcock ! What, in Our Lady's name !

OTTERBOURNE. 91

do we see ? A highway-tinker, guised hke a
preaching friar. 'Twere no ill deed to task thee
to a homily."

" The reading would be wasted on thine ear,'*
retorted Spalding, fretting under so tantalizing
and unprofitable a colloquy.

*^ Mayhap — e'en though that gray gown wert
thy own."

*^ It bespeaks my calluig, truly."

" Ha, ha ! Perchance it does — after a sort.
As liar clinks with friar, and, some say, means
the same."

" Old man !" cried Spalding, out of patience,
** if thy sense be not scant as thy courtesy, list
to me a moment."

" Old man ! — list to thee /" echoed the sup-
posed seneschal, in a paroxysm of rage. " Be-
shrew my heart ! this lacks discipline. Thou
vile patch ; thou scrubby gallows cheat, darest
thou to slip thy tongue at one of my degree ?
Ho, there ! grooms ! varlets ! out, drag me this

92 OTTERBOURNE.

fellow down — flinor him into the moat — hoist
him on a cowl-stafF. Quick, quick, I say."

Thus he stormed and vociferated, until several
lusty servitors appeared, all apparently ready
enough to obey his mandates.

The friar, who saw no opening for parley,
wisely drew off. Getting to a prudent distance,
he hesitated what course to pursue ; but passion
soon decided on striking forward, at all chances.
His bitter mood, however, would not allow him
to depart without an appropriate valediction.

" A hungry traveller's malison on your churl-
ish hearts, ye overfed dogs in the manger!"
he shouted, scornfully tossing his hand. " Yell
mayhap, wail to-morrow o'er the paltry cheer
yeVe saved to-day ; and yelp in your kennel like
brachs, as ye are. Mark me, old clay-brain —
mark me, I say."

After thus venting his spleen, he hastened
away; unconscious that the furious indignation he
had excited, was fated to produce further results.

OTTERBOURNE. 93

" Do I hear aright?" roared the inflamed lord
of the place. " Does the rascaille hind fling
menace at us ? Mark thee ! aye, that I will —
o'er the pate. By oak and by ash ! he shall not
'scape in a sound skin. Eh ! a horse bitted ! —
that's lucky I Porter, thy staffs."

As the above hurried sentences import, the
irate old cavalier, bent on vengeance, seized and
mounted the horse of a retainer which chanced
to stand saddled in the court yard ; and snatch-
ing his porter's baton, issued forth, himself to
pursue the retiring party.*

The friar had ridden to some distance, and
had almost forgotten the late fracas in a deep
cogitation upon the unusual service he was
called on to perform, when a loud angry cry
from behind, apprized him of evil yet in store.

* The "monk's stone," an antiquity near Tynemouth, marks
the spot where an epicurean priest was overtaken and belaboured
to death by a knight of the Delaval family ; in whose household
the party had taken a provoking liberty. — That is, he had cut oft'
and carried away the head of a pig-, roasting for the knight's
dinner. The stone bears this inscription : — " Oh ! horror,
horror ! to kill a man for a pigges head !"

94 OTTERBOURNE.

Looking round, he perceived the fierce old man,
cantering after him, and gesticulating in a man-
ner abundantly significant of his intentions.
Now, father Noel, independent of being by his
cloth a man of peace, considered care for his
own person a point of true wisdom. He was
certainly not a timid man, but he had learnt to
care little about making a show of manhood,
when discretion points out a simpler road to
safety. He, therefore, immediately quickened
pace, and strove to outride the threatened vi-
sitation. To the scofis and revilino;s hurled
after him, he turned a deaf ear, and continued
to press on, until the drooping powers of his,
now fatigued horse, compelled him to relax.

" Ha ! lozel ;" cried his pursuer, detecting
his case, " has thy stolen bargain failed thee at
last? Prepare thy shoulders; they shall sustain
it roundly."

Finding prospects thus altered, Spalding
" made a virtue of necessity,'* and wheeled
round to confront the comer.

OTTERBOUUNE. 95

"What means this violent approach?" he
demanded, with aspect studiedly cahn and se-
vere. " Was it not enough to drive me fasting
from thy gates, without hunting me dowTi thus,
like a beast of the field ? Wherein have I de-
served this treatment at thy hands?"

" Wherein !" iterated the other, gasping from
rage and effort. " Is it nought with thee to
pass indignity upon noble knights in their own
holds?"

" So, then," said Spalding, contriving to keep

the other at bay, " thou art "

" John Coupland, of Coupland, who will make
thee rue to the last dav of thy life, using a mala-
pert tongue before a knight-banneret of King
Edward's making."

So saying, the sturdy old knight made a suc-
cession of attempts to close upon and smite the
friar ; which the latter evaded with great dif-
ficulty, parrying one or two wild blows with his
travelling staff.

" Beware, sir knight," cried Spalding, still

96 OTTERBOURNE.

swerving from the other's assaults, " how you lay
finger on an inviolate priest. Till now, I knew
thee not ; and unknowing, meant thee well. Be
patient ! and I may yet convince thee !"

'* Not till I've convinced thy carcass of the
weight of a stout truncheon, when used with a
good will, ril lounder thee the more, that thou
should'st weento play the gleek on my credulity."
" Then, by Our Lady ! if I forget my order,
and smite again, the sin be on thy head;" said
Noel, bracing up for the encounter.

" Ha, ha ! 'twill lie lightly," rejoined the
knight, only the more provoked at what he
deemed an impudent perseverance in imposture.
A right earnest cudgel match must surely
have ensued betwixt these ill-assorted disput-
ants, had not the friar, moved by some foreign
object which just then caught his optics, put in
another ^^ nolle prosequi.''

" Perverse — passion-led old man," he ex-
claimed, "hold ! for thine own weal's sake ! If
thou wilt shut thine ears, a different sense must

OTTERBOURNE. 97

teach thee. Behold ! — look backward, and
collect the caution 1 would before have Vakened
ere it be too late."

The knight, not so much crediting the words,
as yielding to the curious impulse, which, in
such cases, compels indulgence, glanced over
his shoulder in the direction pointed to by the
friar, and certainly saw appearances that took
instant effect on him.

" Gad's life !" he exclaimed, " I do see some-
thing beside my liking. What means it all ?
—canst tell ?"

" I can. It means that the shepherd strays
from the fold, whilst the wild wolf is at the
wicket : — that, thy vassals spy an enemy, and
have their lord to seek. Here comes some of
them to say as much.'^

" By my fay ! I believe thou liest none now,
knave," returned the knight, completely com-
manded by a new stimulus. And, here make
some of my people sure enough — in pressing
haste too. Tell me, sirrah! what, in sooth,

VOL. I. F

§8 OTTMttBOtJkkE;

bodes yon plump of spears. God's p^ace ! but
ihey come oft apace ! Speak, tnan^ arid swith.'*

Spalding answered the demand according to
hi^ belief; and added also a suggestion that Sir
Johti Should forwiard less wearied harbino-ers
than himself, as well to the Lord Warden^ as
i^lse where.

" Scald knave !" reproached the knight,
" tellest thou me nowy what I should db, when
I behold my very tOwer itself beset. Thou
fenalt howl for this anon. Move back with me
— I may not idle here."

'^ Nay, you will not stay tiiy pregnant errand ?"

*' tta, ha ! thou hast \Veil proved thy fitness
for't ! It shall be given to trustier hands : ive
do not part so soon.**

At this juncture, several of the knight's re-
tainers, hastily armed and mounted, galloped
up, confirming the fact of the Scots' approach,
which, indeed, was too palpable to require ad-
Uea asseverance.

" iPor the love ot Heaven, Sir Johii," urged

OTTERBOUENE. ' 99

the foremost, " hasten in. The Lady Amise
pains after thee, and Bertram Mouboucher
rampages about like a bear in a ring. The
Scots are o'er Corsin-law already. — A black dole
on them!"

Sir John was not slow to obey the entreaty ;
first, however, selecting two or three of his men,
upon whom he imposed the duty of conveying
forward the alarm. He also directed another
to seize Spalding's rein, and force him along
in the retrogmde.

" No parley, cuUion !" he exclaimed, in an-
swer to the friar's remonstrances, " time cries
against it. Be passive, if you would not be
searched from breast to back with a lance's
point."

Spalding, having no alternative, submitted;
and the main party, at utmost speed, retraced
the way to Corsinside.

F 2

100 OTTERBOURNE.

CHAPTER VI.

Trumpets are sounding.
War steeds are bounding,

A' the blue bonnets are over the border.

Sir W. ScoiT.

Comest thou to rob my house unman 'd

And spoil myself that cannot thee witlistand 1

* » * *

doubt not but that some better knight

Will it avenge and pay thee with thy right.

Spenser.

Before proceeding with the adventure, it is
meet to bestow more formal notice on the
irascible and peremptory old cavalier, whose part
in it has been somewhat prominent.

Sir John de Coupland, Lord of Coupland,Ogle,
and Corsinside, was an ancient warrior, of fame
not unsung amongst the northern minstrels. His

OTTERBOURNE. 101

possessions were extensive, and in personal
estimation he stood high. More than forty
years ago, he had performed a " gest,'^ which
secured him, not merely ballad but historic ce-
lebrity : — ^this was the capture of David, King
of Scotland, at the battle of the Red-hills, com-
monly called Neville's-cross. The exploit cost
him the best teeth of rather a boasted set, but
he was never heard to complain of the loss ; for
the occasion both raised him to early honour,
and improved his fortunes. Since then, few con-
flicts of any note had occurred between the home
countries wherein he had not been engaged.
In the almost constant wars of two generations
he had borne a part, whereof he was excuseably
proud; and so vigorous did he yet continue,
that he had not abandoned the notion of still
taking the field, should events call for it. But,
perchance, inclination over-rated power.

The many rough scenes, with which so long
a career of commotion must have brought this
man in contact, and through which he had passed
unscathed, leads one to ponder a little over the

102 OTTERBOUBME.

current of things we generally find equalizing
chances between the daring and the fearful.
May it not be, that, as opposition bends to a
strong spirit and swells upon a weak one, the
aggregate of danger challenged by boldness is
not greater than ihdit forced upon timidity.

The world — as a quaint saying has it— had
both gained and lost, through the agency of de
Coupland ; or in plain terms, he had both killed
men and begot children. Of these latter, one
only remained to him ; — a daughter ; passing
fair, and likely to be passing rich. On her, he
rested his hopes of perpetuating the flow of his
valiant blood ; and a crowned monarch seemed,
in his eyes, barely worthy the alliance.

Let us now attend him in his precipitate re-
turn from the singular sally he had been pro-
voked to make.

The extent of ground which divided him from
the tower, was not likely to vanish with a wish ;
otherwise, the sight that momentarily opened upon
hjm, might have tempted the aspiration of a thou-
sand. At first, a fewhobylers (the fighter armed

gkirniishing (iayalry of the time) had only Ij^^i^
positively distinguishable upon the neighbovirii^g
hill ; but anon, ft cpntinijQ\^^ train stretched dq^n
its whole face. A tidp of moxe formidable men-r^t"
ftrms, too, began to surge over its brow. Nor wa^
this all : a farther hill, peeping, ^s it were, over
thp shoul4ev of t\\e nearer, glanced and glistened
in 9k majijier th^t showed it to be similarly oQr
cupied. This last circumstance weighed heavy
with Sir John ; for, as he ki:)ew to a fvirlong
^hP spape that intervened, and naturally calcu-
late(} the cplipni^ to be unbroken, he obtained
^n appalling gues^ at the enemy '^ total force.

Thus fav, prospects were disagreeable enough,
bv^t they became in a trice ^ti}! more infeli-
citous,

Jlith^rto concealed by the body of the tqwer
itself, a band pf prickers that had pvished jts
apprpaph round the foot pf Corsin-law with un-
detected celerity, emerged into view. Their
vicinity was astoundingly close, and with it
sprung up a novel ar^d vital hazard. Vox^ so
near had these scourers got to the bf^;-bican,

104 OTTERBOURNE.

that it seemed possible they they might reach it
as soon, even, as those who ought to be its de-
fenders. A correspondent opinion appeared
simultaneously to possess both parties thereon ;
for, with shout and spur, a desperate race for
priority immediately commenced.

It may well be supposed, the inmates of the
tower did not look with apathy on this scene.
On the contrary, they were worked up to an
unendurable pitch of excitement. They crowded
the battlements, and with cries and gesticula-
tions, urged and encouraged their lord and his
company In particular, a hoary esquire upon
the portal rampart, writhed and twisted his
frame, as if he hoped by the violence of his own
contortions to expedite the passage of his friends.
To add to the clamour, a trumpeter, stationed
on the summit of the keep to perform the here
customary tenure of cornage, sent forth un-
ceasingly loud and piercing blasts.

Gentler hearts, too, fluttered to behold the
struggle. At a ten'aced window stood two well-
graced females, watching its progress with in-

OTTERBOURNE. 105

tense anxiety. The younger, a surpassingly fair
girl, (her wimple falling back uncared for) hung
distractedly over the balcony. With straining
eyes and hard clasped hands, she offered prayers
to the Virgin, more earnest than availing. It
was de Coupland's daughter.

Fortune, at length, declared against the ab-
sentees, and it became evident to Sir John, that
the foe would attain his gates sooner than him-
self. At any rate, two or three of the more
advanced prickers were almost sure to do so ; and
in that alone there was a risk too palpable to
be overlooked. The old banneret saw and an-
ticipated it, by a mandate that heightened his
personal imperilment.

" Up, up with the drawbridge," he vocifer-
ated, being sufficiently near to be heard from
the walls. " Close all out that are out, but
hold ready for a drop. Mouboucher, ply bows,
man — ^ply bows. Heed not for me. Now, my
hearts !" he continued, addressing those with

him, " let us prove ourselves men of our hands,

f3

and beat off the foremost of these marauders ;
we may gain entry yet. Together, together,
boys. Here's for it! who—ho! A Coupland!"
The draw-bridge barely rose in time to ex*-
elude the first of the fast-coming Scots : which
they perceiving, hastily wheeled and received
with couched lances the headlong charge led
by Sir John. Unhelmed and unmailed as he
was, the lion-like old man threw himself upon
them. Doughtily, indeed, did he then lay
about him with the porter's staffj his only
weapon ; and stoutly did his menyie stand to it
around him. Those on the walls were not idle,
but marked down several of their lord's assail-
ants with missiles. That assistance, however,
could not avail, for the Scots being every
moment reinforced, Sir John and his little
escort were finally overpowered.

The alert troop of foragers, at whose mercy
de Coupland now lay, proved a clan of roving
dalesmen from Teviot ; who had outrode the
main body of their compatriots, and covered

their approach, by sweeping round the base of
Corsin-law, instead of crossing it directly. Such
inst^i^ces qf ultr^ zeal ^nd despatch were very
frequent. What the motive, may be discovered
in th^ apothegm of ' first come, first served/
The leader, a petty chief of rough exteriox and
rapacious habits, was prompt to make, what he
considered, the legitimate use of his success; th^
sack of Corsinside being an affair wherein h^
>vishe4 to see no sharers beyond his own people,
and every moment lost was likely to bring such
up. No sooner, therefore, did he behold the
owner disamied and in his power, than he rode
to the edge of the fosse, -and demanded quick
and iinponditional surrender.

^'- Let go your bi'idge chains, on the instant,"
he bellowed, <^ and you above, hav^ a care y if
another shaft be shot, its feathers shall be
wetted in the best blood of your old lord here.
Swith ; open gates, for by the black rood of Mel-
rose ! I'll hear neither stay nor trifling ! Do je
h^ed pi§?"

108 OTTERBOURNE.

" Heed him not, men," cried the captive
banneret, straining his voice almost into a
scream, '^ For your lives ! yield not my hold
without trying arms for it. To work, bowmen,
twang string till arms ache, I command you/'

'^ Peace, I say. Sir Dotard," growled the
dalesman. " Think'st thou we are children,
and talk in jest. What I have sworn. Til do ;
and ne'er speak twice on't."

" Beggarly reiver!" retorted Sir John, foam-
ing with indignation, had I my good curtle-axe
at side, I'd cleave, spite of knapscap, to thy
scurril tongue ! and 'twould not be the first time
I have so silenced one of thy land-brood."

"Ha! dost bay me?" said the manofTeviot,
menacingly. " Be warned ! Sport not with the
young bull, lest thou brook his horns."

He then again addressed those within
the tower : uttering the most savage threats of
immolation, in case they continued to withhold
submission.

To resist was obviously useless, and the ill-

OTTERBOURNE. 109

prepared garrison as obviously wavered thereon,
The damosel de Coupland, who had been an
agonized spectatress of the above angry inter-
change, called franticly to her father's people to
yield at once, and not further compromise his
safety. The appeal appeared decisive, for the
seneschal (the same venerable esquire before
mentioned) immediately spoke from the barbi-
can, and offered to open the gates, on pledge
for the honourable treatment of his master.

" Bertram Mouboucher!" said Sir John, ac-
costing the above party, " this is not well."

'' Dear lord ! we have no choice," replied the
other, deprecatingly.

" None," rejoined the dalesmen, " but that
of swinging from the battlements; and me-
thinks, by your delay, you have some mind
to't."

" Well ! what must be, must," admitted de
Coupland, " but, at all events, I charge thee,
ope not to this nameless boor, wait till some
knightly hand present to take the keys."

]]P OTTEJ^BQURNE.

" Thai; daes tli^re i^ow, then," cried ^ p^y^p
Ji^i'j in complete njail, at that moment gallopiyig
up, attende4. " Cranstoun,"t-rThe contijiu§d|
/cheel^ing the Teyiptdale lea4er> whp, iiettl^cj l)y
t}i^ ' l^ji^n^less' taynti was pn tl^ ev^ pf talking
Humanly vengeance,-rTT" hold bapk ! I will mif
s^e his white hairs violated."

With some mutterings, ^i:^d exceeding bf^cl
^rftGp, he of Teviot gave way.

" Siy Patrick Hepburn " sai4 de Coupl^r^c},
tp lyjiona the new comef was not unki^own,
" thpu art '4 good knight and tr^e, I yield myr
sejf thy prisoner."

" That may not be," interposed Cr^nstoun,
" The knight of Goupland is the prize pf my
lance, and I claini the right pf a frea pfi^ft-^tr
g^rafis over hin> as such."

" If it be so, thy right cannot be gainsaid/'
returned Sir Patrick* *' Sir John, thou hast had
occasion to know the law of arms in that p^v
tieular.'-

*^ I d.Q know it," said the banneret ! the bit-

QTTERipURNf:. Ill

teme88 of hi^ feelings somewhat moderated by
the allusiou to hi$ dearest retrospections ; " and
if Sir Patrick thinks that law available to r^s-
caille snatchers, I have no more to say,"

^^ Nay, Crj^nstoun belongs to good blood, and
his demand niay not be challenged," was tlie
(Jacieive answer.

The draw-bridge having been lovv^ered, the
fre^booting prickers crowded into the tower,
and, doubtless, the business of pillage went on
thriftily. Cranstoun, unwilling to be idle at such
a time, momentarily abandoned his prisoner to
the honourable keeping of Sir Patrick Hepburn,
and hurried to n)^k^ a guest at this feast of
broken garners. The thoughts of the unthank^d
9i>d unconsentjng purveyor himself, reverted to
^jjd centred in ^ napre tender concern,

" Sir knight of Hailes," said he, to Hep-
burn. " I have to beg your protection for two
gentle tercels here within — ^the child of my age,
and the bequest of a dear sister. Will it please
thee to accompany me, whilst I seek th^m, with

112 OTTERBOURNE.

the voice of comfort. Thy countrymen are wild,
and may forget the bland respects due to their
condition."

Scarcely had he spoken, until he felt the soft
arms of his daughter entwined around his neck,
and folded her tightly to his still brawny breast.
She had flown to his side, regardless of the
fierce and rapidly-increasing throng.

" Amise — my darling Amise," he exclaimed,
" having thee with me, all the rest is nought.
Tremble not, little peat, 'tis but a common
trick of warfare has befallen me. 1' Gad's truth !
I deserve it, for suffering the surprize."

"Oh dearest father, these fell invaders ! what
will they do ?"

" Break, plunder, and mayhap, burn : the
rascals are vengeful, as well as greedy," said
the sire, his wrath bursting. " Let them. Cor-
sinside wins not a thought, while Coupland
castle's to the fore. The scurvy 'trapment
grieves me ; not the paltry loss."

" But will they not hold my father bodily in

OTTERBOURNE. 113

duress V* queried the afflicted girl. " Will they
not drag thee into Scotland ?''

'^ Pugh ! if they do, ^twill be to haggle for a
rounder bode of ransomry; and old John of
Coupland is not beggared yet. Come, my
child ! this unseemly exposure becomes thee
not. For thy sake only, will I re-enter my own
hall, other than to command it. Where is
Hesterr

" I know not, surely, having rushed hither
in terror. Her firm heart holds better in an
hour like this than mine."

" Ah ! wench ! she shews more of the de
Coupland strein, than thee ; and yet, I know
not how, I like thee better as thou art. Let us
in to her. Sir Patrick, thy leave."

The banneret, accordingly, conducted his
daughter back to the equivocal shelter of a pile
filled with enemies.

Not long after, the whole hostile array began
to file across the front of the tower, at about a
quarter of a mile's distance, extending in a line

114 OTT^RBp^UHl?,

^f portentous prolongation. A halt w^g ulti-r
mately called ; but, from the (iegreej pf paaj:-
shailed order still maintained, it did not appear
intended for duration, Tq easp tjif) march of
%he lagging infantry, and recal tl^^ di^ord^rjy
prickers who swarmed abpu| the seat of sppiJ,
was probably its chief objects.

Presently, a select band of lanceg, leg^ying
the main body upon the plain, advanced up tji^
grassy swell of Corsin^ide, Jt comprised the
pride and flower of the Scottish lowlands, and
therefore, the best chivalry of that natipn.
Knights and esquires, all wpj-je in complete,
though i^ot gaudy panoply, and pennons fluttered
in abundance. With maiiy a demivplte ^nd
caracole, they drew rein before the gates.

At the head of these, and exercising that
CG|nmand which his great influence and martiftl
deserts secured to him, rode James, Earl pf
Douglas; soa-rinrlaw tQ the reigning monarch
of ScotlancJ, and himself reigning in its border
province^. This turbulent baron, whose ]pa^-

mory tradition and song h^ve handed down Xq
us, as the * doughte Dowglas", h£l.d truly enacted
de^ds that warranted the appellation- Whether
in the lordly halls of Dalkeith^ or in the glooniy
fastness of the Hermitage, he upheld a, powgf
that constituted him the first subject in his
Jand'^if, indeed, that term pan be applied at
^11, to one of the feudal despots qf the period.

The Earl was, just now, upon the threshold
of middle life ; that is, at the stage when man-
hood puts forth its ripest powers. Largely
framed and long in reach, his formation, though
not compact, evinced a wild strength, which
ffiU^t have rendered him terrible in assault. His
ijpthrown beaver ^disclosed to view a set of fea-^
tures possessing in their combination a certain
jQfi^t of nobleness, but each too strongly defined
to challenge separate approval. Habits of
stern dictation and uncontrolled impatience had
left an impress on them. He did not inherit
the eomplexion of the ^ pale dark man,' whom
Crauford speaks of as giving name to his house.

116 OTTERBOURNE.

being slightly inclined to the sanguine ; where-
fore, perhaps, and owing to the colour of his
short wiry beard, he acquired the appellation of
the red Douglas, in contra-distinction to his
saturnine brother of Galloway — ^Archibald the
Grim.

He was encased in a suit of tough plate ar-
mour, and bestrode a destrier, more remarkable
for bone than beauty.

Around the Douglas were collected a number
of distinguished compatriots ; some of whom
merit especial nomination. First, the Dunbar,
Earl of March and Dunbar; a noble curiously
connected in after-years with England. Bold
and enterprizing, and said to have always swayed
fortune to the quarrel he espoused; probably
the consequence of his seldom being faithful to
a losing one. Next, the cautious, but zealous,
John of Gordon, frequently called Earl of Hunt-
ley. David Lindesey, Lord of Glenesk. The
Earl of Monteith, and the gallant Montgomeries,
sire and son. Nor must we omit, though but a

OTTERBOURNE. 117

simple knight, the famous John Swinton of
Swinton ; the tale of whose prowess, in France,
had travelled before him home to his native
land. All these warriors, dismounting, entered
the great hall of the tower, and were not slow
to command the attendance of its captive lord.

The apartment in question, was neither very
spacious of its kind, nor finished in its appoint-
ments, Corsinside being but a casual residence
of the Couplands, and not the chief seat of their
power. Two small lancet windows, pierced
through a wall of immense thickness, and at
some height from the ground, dimly lighted its
confines. Saving the enormous dogs for sustain-
ing the winter fuel, the massive oaken table
and benches, and a few sporting implements
hung around, there was little else of garniture
beyond that displayed in the primitive masonry.

When Sir John entered — or, it may be said,
was brought in — ^he found the new occupants of
his hall reposing with all that careless familiarity
of appropriation, so usual to men who can

lis OfTERBdURNfi.

Control. One feat rocking to and fro upon a stool
another lay supine upoii a bench * a third, scoriied
^ny othei" seat than the great table itself; and
the rest, yawfting, laughing, of lazily Conversing,
paced the flagged floor. Nearly all were known
to the banneret, as he was to them. Frequent
Collisions,— occasionally but rarely friendly —
tendered the border chivaky no strangers to
6ach other.

" I cannot say ye're welcome, sirs," observed
Sir John, on whose iiiind the free demeanour,
just alluded to, wrought bitter impressions.
" And I perceive it is not necessary."

*' Nay, faith !'' muttered the blunt Swinton,
'^ *tis less than needful ; an EngUshman's hall
IS ever a true ScOt^s hostel.^'

" Mass ! but he seldom leaves it without
paying shot," retorted de Coupland, not dis-
posed to ' carry coals."

" This time, however*, 'twill ha' to be put to
the score,'* answered the other, indifferently.

"And after, ta'en with usury, ha? It shall;

O^tERBOtJllNEi 119

nd fear on't. Pray sirs," speaking to the
company at larg^j ahd assuming an air of meek
humility, " iiiay I presume to sit. My limbs
have lost some of their pith; mote meseems
than I before did wot ofi"

" Sir knight of Coupland," returned Douglas,
taking the hint, and offering some shew of at-
tention, in which he was more or less imitated
by the others^ " you ar6 pleased to use prac-
tice. Be seated at your pleasure, sir. We will
riot forget our knightly courtesy, be assured."

^* Forget I" murmured Sir John,-^" 'tis new
to ine to learrl that Scot e'er knew any."

The speech was inaudible, and therefore un-
noticed.

Either the above piece of formaUty had been
a sudden effusion of crossed humour, or the old
knight immediately after took a second fancy;
for he continued to stand, in spite of the weak-
ness he had deplored.

" We intend. Sir John," resumed Douglas,
" to take such chahcie 6heer as thy buttery may

120 OTTERBOURNE.

afford us. Will it please thee to take order for
the same. Come, knight ! thou hast been a
rare lance, as I have heard, and should'st know
the ways of out-riding wights, aye ! and guess
the measure of their stomachs too."

" My lord, you hut insult me,'^ answered de
Coupland. " Tis you who command here now.
I am thrice a stranger."

" Be it so, then, if thou wilt. Archibald,"
speaking to a dark-visaged youth, whose fea-
tures much resembled his own, ^' hie thee out,
boy, and see what ready vivers can be gotten.
If our hungry loons have left none, as 'tis like
enough, a stoup of wine must serve our need.
Quick ! we have far to ride ere nightfall."

Archibald who, by the by, was the Earl's own
natural son, instantly obeyed.

Douglas again turned to de Coupland, who
still stood aloof, with a severe and distant mien.

" Thou wilt join us in our brief refection. Sir
John V he propounded.

" I will never sit on sufferance at the board

OTTERBOURNE. 121

Fve ruled; nor stand a cipher in mine own hall.'*'
replied the other, " my presence here is not
required."

" Go then. Sir of Coupland,''' rejoined
Douglas, coldly and haughtily. "Compound
with thy emprizor, and depart whene'er thou
wilt. Doubtless, he will take ransom or parole.'

" He ! a wretched pelferer: I will not dis-
grace my knightly word, by such a passage."

** Then let him look to't. I mell not with the
matter."

At this juncture, the Earl of Moray entered,
and was received with gratulations ; followed
by queries on the cause of his being belated. In
apology, amidst one or two other circumstances
not relevant to our story, he cursorily adverted
to the case of Farneley.

'• And how did'st dispose of the scout?" asked
Douglas.

" Whoo ! left him to the death, and the
sooner, that his fate will kibe the Percy; of
whose following he is, or rather was."

VOL. I. G

De Coupland, who remained yet in the hall,
only because the diversion caused by Moray'*s
appearance had checked him in a purposed
speech, here found a meet occasion to bring it in.

" Ye halloo bravely on the wood's edge,
Sirs,*" he observed derisively. " Wait till the
boar is roused. Harkye, bold Douglas ! Thou
may'st take prey and prisoner in the march,
but if thou hopest to bear away, be jogging
swith. Trot, trot, my masters ! or ye will abye
it. Kibe the Percy, quotha ! ha ! ha ! as the
urcheon did the ox, and got crushed by his
hoof. But I am wrong. Stout Northumber-
land and his apt sons, will hardly thank me for
thus giving thee the warning."

^* Tis pity. Sir Greybeard," rejoined the dis-
tempered Moray, betwixt whom and Sir John
a regai*d of unfriendly recognition passed. " 'Tis
pity that when our good king David dashed his
gauntlet in thy mouth, he did not disable thy
tongue* 'T would have been a kind office to^
thyself. You stare— and 'tis not strange: when

OTTERBOURNE. 123

late we sat in frosty fellowship at Raby, thou
did'st not expect this lesson/''

" I remember me, I scorned thee, then, as I
do now," repUed the old knight. " And for the
favour thy king David did me, methinks there
lies no debt between us."

" Peradventure thou may'st find the con-
trary," said Moray. " Are ye not reminded,
lords ? Twill be good quittance to our country
to make this hoary luckster do her homage by
a captive visit : aye, and kiss the tomb of him
whose person he defiled."

'^ By the soul of Bruce! the thoughts a good
one !" exclaimed John of Gordon ; whilst others
looked approvingly.

" He hath a daughter, too, of boasted beauty,"
resumed Moray, never very regardful of deli-
cate observances, and now acting under a private
impulse that made him less so, — " to shame
it 'mongst our Scottish dames were to do bale
upon a hundred English swains — belted gallants
to boot."

g2

124 OTTERBOURNE.

" Who for her father'^s sake will hunt thee to
a reckoning ; base and discourteous Scot/' said
Sir John, deeply indignant. " Douglas and
Sirs, I seek my privacy; but may not say
good betide ye.*" The venerable banneret then
haughtily withdrew.

" As Saint Bride shall o-uide me !"" observed
Douglas, replying to Moray"'s last remark. " I
wish the English chivalry no other bale than I
can work with the point of my good lance.
Natheless touching what was before propounded,
there is oround for likinsr. It must be con-
sidered. Who was the prizor of the knight ?''

Cranstoun, being named, and chancing to be
at hand, presented himself before the powerful
thane, with his reckless features trained into a
shew of submission not usual to them.

The lucubrations of late writers, have rendered
the customs of the feudal ages tolerably familiar;
but in order to be certainly intelligible, it will
not be amiss here to premise, that in the warfare
of these times all prisoners were left at the

OTTERBOURNE. 125

personal disposal of their individual captors.
Ransom was seldom or never refused ; and it
viras very usual for the latter to enfranchise the
former upon pledge of honour, that such would
be, in due space, strictly rendered. No despic-
able part of a successful warrior's acquisitions
was derived from this source ; nor did the love
of glory by any means cause indifference to it.
The custom had the effect of greatly economiz-
ing the expenditure of costly blood ; and thence
the significant richness of a knight's armour
often saved him when its iron strength had failed.
To make amends, penniless churls were slaugh-
tered without mercy. A modified control was,
to be sure, exercised over these transactions, by
the superior lords ,• but on the details of that it
is not esssential to dilate.

" Here, friend," pursued Douglas, summon-
ing the other to his side. " Thou art he who
first captured the old knight, lord of this
Corsinside ?"

" I am, my lord, and claim my prize of him."

126 OTTERBOURNE.

" It is not contested ; but we have a will con-
cerning him. I ween now, thou wilt not be
sorry to prick back to Teviotdale after so fair a
windfall?^'

" I know not why I should say nay, my lord.^'
*^ Nor I either, so far. But thy beasts are
well laden, and thy mates have not mispent
time, I warrant."

'* They seldom do, when they can employ it.**'

'' As to day. Soh ! — then, haply, thy spur,

for this raid is well nigh cooled — Hey ! is it

not r

The man hesitated, and mumbled something
about a willingness to ride with the Douglas to
all ends; but it was obvious the Earl's estimate
of a free-living dalesman's martial animus was
shrewdly correct.

'' Peace — peace ; spare thy conscience," said
he, interrupting the other. " I permit thy re-
turn ; as much that I forsee no further 'vantage
in thy company, as that it may serve a purpose.
I need not tell thee to watch thy prisoner; that

thou wilt for thine own interest. But this,
mark : hie thee with him homeward, and take
nor pledge nor ransom for a month. Ere its
close thou shalt have counsel. Go ; I have no
more with thee. So. my lords,"" he continued,
addressing^ his friends. " We can act in this
matter as our after-judgment may dictate. And
— ah ! here's wine. Let us quaff a single cup
to fortune's favour, and be off."

Several stoups of wine were at the moment
placed upon the board, and speedily assailed
by the thirsty campaigners.

128 OTTKRBOURNE.

CHAPTER VIL

With hot war's stratagems do oft times mix
Love's hidden wiles and amorous tricks,
Trying fierce natures.

As the man of Teviot retired from his colloquy
with Douglas, he was stopped and drawn aside
by Moray.

" The heritor of Gilmanscleugh, or else I do
mistake ?*" prefaced the noble.

"The same — with service to the lord of
Moray," was the rejoinder.

" Good. List to me friend. Thou hast,
doubtless, rummaged through every comer of
this old rookery, and can''st confirm me, if there

OTTERBOURNE. 129

be not lodged therein, two demoiselles, kins-
women to the Coupland ?"

'^ Of a surety there is."

" Nay, but confound me not with waiting
wenches. They I mean, are perfect dames.—
A pair of them ?"

" Aye, content thee — there are twain. IVe
had scope to note them."

" Enough. These will, most like, 'tend the
old knight upon the northward prance thou art
about to lead him. See you bar them not ; but
the rather, should they be minded otherwise,
make it compulsor}^ Understand me : our ex-
pedition over, I would find them at thy peel of
Gilmanscleugh.'*' :^

" I stand avized, my lord."

" Perform — and thou shalt find account in it.
For the present, adieu. Yet — stay. Can'st
point me out these ladies' bower."

" Um ! let me see ! yes, — yes, I can/'

" Have with me, then ; chiefly, that I would
have thee find some chaffering occupation for

g3

13d OTTERBOURNE.

old Coupland, whilst I hold speech with one of
them, but for a cock's crowing. I follow thee.""

Cranstoun accordingly led the way, and
Moray pressed anon upon his heels.
- Meanwhile, the other nobles, heated by their
post march, and flushed with the excitement
of self-promised triumphs, enjoyed the brief
carouse, thus commanded under a hostile roof,
with bursts of boisterous merriment. A trifling
interruption occurred, not of sufficient mo-
ment to disturb them in their hasty snatch
of revel, but nevertheless, bespeaking notice at
our hands. It concerned a party whom the
reader may not have forgotten.

Father Noel, abandoned to his own direction
by Sir John's people, had not yet been lucky
enough to escape detention. His good steed
first recommended him to the civilities of certain
sharp-eyed prickers, who having despoiled him
of that, turned him adrift, only to encounter
one who honoured him with a more personal,
and, as it proved, more dangerous regard. He

OTTERBOURNE. 131

was finally conducted to the tower; and his
entrance into the hall, in wami parley v/ith hig
fkew friend y invited the question of the cavaliers
there assembled.

" Hilloa ! father," cried Douglas, " who hast
got with thee there ? We mai-velled at thy ab-
sence, and have been fain to take our fare with-
out a god's grace. Hither — ^bestow it o'er a
cup for thine own crushing."

The personage thus accosted exhibited no trace
of the holy character implied. He was a short
but thickset man, of middle age, and dense sa-
turnine aspect ; fortified from head to foot in
brown, but not rusty, plate, which bore the marks
of service. In his right hand he carelessly swung
the formidable description of battle-axe known
by the name of a jeddart-staff. Altogether,
none would have guessed that they beheld in
him my Lord Douglas' domestic confessor. It
might be surmised, that in a household so war-
like, not even the most sacred functions vi^ere
exempt from the call of aims ; but sooth to say,
Richard Lundie had little disposition to claim

132 OTTERBOURNE.

any exception. He loved the clink of mail full
as well as chant of litany. Cedant arma togae
was not exemplified in him ; unless, after ano-
ther construction, it might be held verified in
his admitted prowess.

After he had devoutly complied with his
patron's last suggestion, he reverted to
Spalding.

" I have caught here, my lord," said he, '' a
pestilent villain, who had like to have filled St.
Andrews'* itself with damnable heresies. Now,
would not I vow a pilgrimage to St. Ninians, at
Whitethorn, to have him bodily under bolt, in
Scotland."

" Would'st thou, i' faith, father?" exclaimed
Douglas, laughing ; *• then 'twere sure a pity
and a sin to baulk the Saint of thy offertory."

" And specially, considering that 'twill be his
reverence's first journey in such mood," observed
the Lindesay. " Wilt thou not, then, father,
take occasion to procure a mass for the souls of
those thou dost intend to slay in this our expe-
dition?"

OTTERBOURNE. 133

" You misjudge the church's servant, young
Lord of Glenesk," returned the bellicose chap-
lain, demurely, " I am not here with will to
slay; — no, beati pacifici — I come rather to re-
strain the ungoverned fury of such hot youth as
thine. If I appear in guise of graith, 'tis but
that I may render less fearful interference ; and
I carry weapon but to use when unhallowed
menacement obstructs my duty and assails my
person."

" Thou art strangely ill used, then, father,"
rejoined Lindesay, *' being right often so ob-
structed, as I may well suppose.''

" Certes, my path is rugged and my dangers
manifold, yet am I in no w^ay daunted," replied
Lundie, with ludicrous composure. My ho-
noured lord (to Douglas), will it please thee,
give me some command over this contagious
firebrand ;" meaning Noel.

" Tut ! our time is spent — do with him as
you list. What art thou ?" turning on the
friar, " can'st ought allege 'gainst being sent

134 OTTERBaURNEi

to face our Scottish gownsmen ? Deliver quick,
man."

Spalding's contumacious indomitable spirit
was not to be cowed even in such presence.

" I am no less than man,^^ said he, " and
thou art no more. As to your dealing with me
as you threaten, I can offer but one objection,
and that is, that you will do it without right or
reason, drawn either from my conduct or your
authority."

" Hear how the knave rails it on dignities V
exclaimed Lundie, " 'tis a key to his unlicensed
principles."

*' I am no subject of the Scottish crown,"
pursued the friar, " I bear no arms — my
opinions, whatever they may be, cannot be
amenable to your jurisdictions."

" The offended Church knows nought of
national limits," returned the chaplain; " 'tis
catholic. Let us once have thy corpus in pos-
session, and we'll make law of that."

" Come, my lord," interposed Dunbai*, who

OTTERBOUHNE. 136

had hitherto paced the hall wrapt in his own
thoughts, " these quiddets are not for us. Let
the bald-coot pack with Gilmanscleugh ; — and
we to our horses. Straight -away 's is the escry."
; /^ All alike ! " murmured the disregarded friar,
*^ fel in cordejfraus in factis!^'

" Silence? pauperculusj discalciatus ac con-
tempt ibilis ! '' thundered the chaplain.

" Be it as Dunbar hath said," decided Doug-
las, rising from his seat. " Father, use thy plea-
sure in direction. Mounte, knights, mounte."

The mandate was gladly listened to, and, in

a few minutes, the tower was deserted by all but

Cranstoun and his immediate troop ; to whose

wardship Lundie took previous care to commit

.his brother clerk.

The last individual who passed the gates
somewhat a lingerer behind the rest, was the Lord
of Moray.

The army being once more set in motion,
shaped its course southward, through Tynedale,
and soon stole beyond the visual range from
Corsinside.

136 OTTERBOURNE.

That place, however, was not destined to en-
tire evacuation, for this day at least. Owing,
partly to the prospective inconvenience of being
benighted on the mosses, and partly to the at-
tractions of the potent cheer still unconsumed
therein, the dalesmen had resolved to defer their
departure until the next sunrise. The males of
the late establishment were all either dispersed,
or disarmed, and locked up. In the latter pre-
dicament, their venerable master, his esquire,
Mouboucher, and the luckless Spalding, also
partook ; with the additional discomfort of know-
ing that the restraint imposed on them had an
ulterior object. Nor were the two youthful
dames of the family left to move without vigi-
lant observation. Whom it is time to pourtray
at large.

Amisia de Coupland, the younger of the pair,
as the banneret's heiress, takes precedence. She
was one of those 'witching beings whose charms
peculiarly baffle description. Angel, Houri,
and Grace, were terms in use before the deluge,

OTTERBOURNE. 137

and probably at these times, tabooed even in
Owhyhee, but had they been available, would
fail to raise the true idea. She was too much
a woman to be an ang-el — too retiring: for a
houri — and too unstudied in attitudes for a
grace. Yet her form and face, actions and
speech, were, together, overcharged with a spell,
which her clear blue eye seiTcd to launch forth
and fix. She was of middle stature ; luxuriously
modelled, and her attire rather marred than
improved

a waist,

Indeed, sized to love's wish."

Her hair was a glossy auburn — not of the
sorrel cast, usually so denominated by partial
mothers, but the rich sunny brown veritably
implied.

Thus beautiful, and with such expectancies,
Amisia, young as she was, might have made
more than one high alliance ; but the golden-
headed dart had never been fairly planted in her
bosom, and she entertained certain romantic

138 OTTEKBOURNE.

notions which a wound of that kind could
alone realize. These, she was self-willed enough
to stand upon, and, therefore, was likely to
continue some time longer the "queen of love
and beauty," at the northern tournaments.
Warm in fancy, sanguine in disposition, and
\infettered by worldly opinions, her heart once
engaged, she was not constituted to bend its
aspirations to conventional shadows. She was,
however, essentially of the gentlest dispositions :
a sweet smile ever played around her mouth-^-a
mouth that a miser's heir would have sacrificed
his patrimony to kiss, and wished the caress
to endure, like that invoked by the Athenian,
for thrice ten years !

Two pretty women in consecutive pages is
somewhat too much ; and ladies may incline to
think, that the traits of the second, like the
madness of Tilburina's confidante, should be
kept modestly in the background. But to act
on this would be to cast a derogation far from
admissible. Brevity affords a medium.

OTTERBOUKNE. 139

■ Hester Arnecliffe was the daughter of Sir
John de Coupland's only sister, and an orphan.
Her father had been an esquire of approved
descent, but no estate ; consequently his child
was left entirely dependent on her uncle, who
had fostered her with kindly affection. She
was now in the full bloom of womanhood.
Majestic in person ;— «

such a brare stature

Homer bestowed on Pallas, every Umb
Proportioned to't."

Her hair and eyes were both black ; the latter
long and narrow, with that slumbery character
admired by others than the Orientals : features
fine and full — teinture, pale, but exquisitely
pure and polished.

It would almost have seemed that this lady's
mind took a tone from her corporeal endow-
ments; for it soared in ambitious and exagge-
rated flights. The noblesse of chivalry had, in
her, a worshipper more ardent than rational.
Of her lineage she was inordinately proud ; and

140 OTTERBOURNE.

it was her deepest source of regret that, with
it, more substantial dignities had not been in-
herited. A frigid, and occasionally even apa-
thetic manner, belied strong passions lurking
within. Heated in brain, her perceptions were
often illiberal ; and, careless of regard, her ex-
pressions frequently tinctured with sarcasm, but
nevertheless, her spirit was in the main lofty
and generous.

These maidens, differing so much in dispo-
sition, may hardly be supposed to have been
congenial companions. Long association had,
however, done much, and the entire absence of
petty doubts and jealousies, more. The ties of
blood, too, not being severed by diverse inte-
rests, bound them closely together. Thus, if no
great mutual sympathy sustained betwixt them,
there was a perfect mutual reliance to com-
pensate.

But a short time before the present, Amisia
and Hester had been on a visit at the castle of a
puissant baron, in the neighbouring county

OTTERBOURNE. 141

an ancient friend of the bannerets; to one
of whose sons it was popularly understood
the former was affianced. From hence, on
the after-coming of the old knight himself,
they were suddenly withdrawn; not owing to
any breach of good feeling with their host, but
from a disgust which Sir John took to certain
other casual guests. Ere returning to his
castle of Coupland, (seated further towards
Tweed,) he had found it expedient to sojourn a
brief while at Corsinside, and, so doing, fell in
the way of the mischance it has been our pro-
vince to record.

14Q OTTERBOURNE.

CHAPTER VIII.

comtne un jeune coeur est bientot enflammee,

11 me vit, il m'aima ; je le vis, je raimai.

French Poet.

The Scots in the tower being of opinion that,
as their chief expressed, " it was better to hear
the lark sing, than the mouse cheep/' were early
stirrers. As an unsupported detachment, they
durst not hazard a moment's unnecessary stay,
with the country adjacent thoroughly alarmed.

When the troop assembled to commence the
retrograde, it offered a curious spectacle. Be-
sides spare horses, taken from the old knight's
stables, and loaded with the spoil, the hobbies

OTTERBOURNE. 143

of the prickers themselves were heaped before
and behind the saddle, with a heterogeneous
mass of commodities. Scarcely any species of
interior plenishing, that was portable, but might
be seen in the way of removal. Even the napfs
appointed to convey the captives, were not ex-
empted from other burthens, being more or less
bedecked with what may aptly be called hous-
ings, of bower and table napery. It seemed the
spoilers were unwilling to allow any means of
transport to go unemployed, and felt no delicacy
about makino- the late owner himself an ac-
cessory. How such a circumstance galled his
ebullient spirit, may readily be imagined. Spite,
however, of his anathemas, himself, esquire,
and dear wards, were compelled to mount in
this fashion. No attendants were permitted
thera. Spalding was also brought forth, and
added to their party.

But these were not the only living prey, the
thrifty Scots designed to make companions
homeward. As they moved through the circum-

144 OTTERBOURNE.

jacent pasturage, they collected the grazing
cattle into a herd, and drove it before them.
Cranstoun, indeed, facetiously remarked, that if
the tower itself ' had owned four legs, it should
not have been left behind.'

Slow, and excessively irksome to the involun-
tary travellers, proved the rate of progress;
and long was it, therefore, before the battle-
ments of Corsinside were lost to sight. This
became doubly painful, when a backward glance
certified that the common usage of foray, had
not been forgotten. Clouds of smoke accumu-
lating, above the abandoned edifice proclaimed
the unfriendly fire that raged within. All the
knighfs family appeared mournfully conscious
of the fact, except himself; or, at least, did
not, like him, disguise their cognizance.

" Why look you back, and shudder, Amise,'*'
said he, abruptly, " Think'st thou I guess not
the cause ? God wot ! I do, full well. Were it
nisfht, I ween we should see a bonfire. Ah !
well ! Scotland has smoked before, and England

OTTERBOURNE, 145

should'nt grudge a puff of neighbourhood.
Turn for turn, and I'll wager which has the
worst on't. We'll have pill for poll, and more.""

" A miserable race of mischief," struck in
Spalding, " cursed in deed, and cursed in con-
sequence.'"

The observation drew upon the speaker the
sharpened edge of a reminiscence, in no way-
salutary.

" Thou mumble !" exclaimed Sir John, " thou
forsworn post ! thou bewraying vagrant ! But
for thy base time-tampering, John of Coupland
would not have seen this hour."

" Blame me not. Sir Knight; but rather
thine own ungovernable passions. Twas on
compulsion, I fled from thy gates; for of a
surety, my skin is no thicker than another's,
and thy staff something of the heaviest. More-
over, tho' apprized the Scot had ta'en the field
'twas but in generals. I could not foresee this
fall on Corsinside."

VOL. I. H

146 OTTERBOURNE.

" Mass ! I believe thou liest. 'Tis like enough
thouwert of counsel with the enemy."

" Then, methinks, I am rewarded ; being here
in custody."

" Nay, Sir John,"' interposed Mouboucher,
*' in that matter, at least, you wrong this
stranger. I heard his parley with the Douglas,
in our hall, and mind, it was no honied one.
O' my word ! 'a's a rampold knave, and a stiff-
necked."

" Aye, sayst thou !" exclaimed the knight,
looking less wrathfully on Spalding, ^^ did 'a
beard the Douglas in his speech ? I owe him
no ill-will for that. How sprung the frac-
tion?"

" Why, it seems, he, here with us, hath been
a disturber of holy things in Scotland; and

it

" I am no disturber of holy things, anywhere,*'
interrupted the friar; "but — minorum minimus —
an ordained upholder thereof."

OTTERBOURNE. 147

" 'Slife ! art thou, in sooth, a gospeller V*
demanded de Coupland'

" Soothly, I am; and will avouch myself an
honest,'' replied Noel. " I truckle not to
worldly institutions ; I wink not at the pride
and luxury of the hierarchy ; but I am a sincere
construer of the sacred evangelists.'^

" Thou goest in quaint guise, then, and ridest
on unclerkly missions," observed his interrogant,
doubtingly.

" Yet give him credit, dear father," entreated
a sweet voice, " I overnight held pass of seemly
converse with the holy man, and methought his
words maintained his calling ; albeit that his
outward portaunce less accords. We're fellows
now in evil fortune, and should be toward with
each other."

The hard features of the friar softened inta
something like admiration, as he bestowed an
approving glance upon the fair pleader; and
Sir John, for his part, suffered himself to be
molhfied.

H 2

148 OTTERBOURNE.

" Nay," said he, " an our gossip here be a
reverend clerk, the case is hugely altered. The
cloth must have respect. Fm no pagan, as our
Lady of Jesumont can testify. 'Save thee,
father ! we'll pass this gear."

In making his appeal to the virgin, the rough
old banneret mechanically crossed himself;
yielding, like many others, a habitual deference
to notions, v^hich, however proper, they neither
examine nor understand. Thus we have known
a man of practically dissolute life melt into a
perfect fume, if he caught one of his family
inadvertently humming an air on a Sunday.
The sound seemed to jar painfully upon his ear;
and yet the only reason to be surmised, was a
strong verbal remembrance of early lessons.

The party contrived to plod on for several
hours without occurrence. The tract of savage
and thinly-peopled country they traversed, suf-
ficiently accounted for this ; and as nearly the
whole course of their journey extended through
the same, little idea of any in prospect could

OTTERBOURNE. 149

be entertained. At high noon, a halt was called,
for refreshment and repose. The site chosen,
for what modern martialists would term the
bivouac, was by the side of a shallow mountain
stream. Here was water for the cattle, and the
rising bank afforded convenient resting-places.
Provision and wine, prudently brought from
Corsinside, fully engaged the attention of the
marauders, and moderately that of our friends.
Sir John and Mouboucher, who, their joints being
stiffened by age, soon stretched themselves in
grateful recumbency; but Spalding, more in-
dulgent of such company, prolonged his meal
in concert with the rest.

Amisia and Hester, freely left to themselves,
as incapable of making any use of the liberty,
strolled to some distance. Winding amongst
the fern and lichens with which it was encum-
bered, they ascended the further bank, until
they attained the top. To proceed on, was to
leave the encampment entirely out of sight in

150 OTTEREOURNE.

the hollow, which, when they perceived no
regard was had to their movements, they did
not scruple to do. Whatever topics might, on
ordinary occasions, engross, and whatever
thoughts colour the confidential converse of
these maidens, at this time, they slept unheeded.
Nor masque, nor marriage, nor love, nor min-
strel, nor happiness, nor head-tire, now filled
their hearts, and charged their tongues. The
novelty, as well as peril of their situation,
coupled with possible contingencies, commanded
them exclusively. They figured to each other,
immurement in some rude and solitary Scottish
peel, rough gaolers and wretched fare; together
with superadded attacks and importunities,
such as the female imagination is ever active in
conceiving. Then the precarious condition of
their venerable parent, exposed to the wild
accidents of an unruly time, with no great
guarantee for personal safety, raised truly serious
apprehensions. In all these fears, however,

OTTERBOURNE. 161

either Hester ArneclifFe partook less keenly than
her cousin ; or her unbending temper disdained
an equally vivid exhibition.

The imminent concernments whereon they
communed were so engrossing, that notwith-
standing the unconfined nature of their view,
it was long ere they became aware of the
increasing vicinity of a third person. When
they did discover this, they were able at once
to distinguish the attributes of an active youth,
imperfectly armed, and mounted on a rough-
bred hobby. He was in the act of trotting
briskly towards them, and apparently had ap-
proached from the opposite frontier. Conjecture
followed scrutiny.

" The man comes on apace. Englishman or
Scot, I wonder !" observed Hester, after both
had taken silent note.

" If he be the first, 'twere a fair deed to adver-
tise him that he runs on danger,*' said Amisia.
" If the latter, Hester, we had best return — Alas !
to what protection ! He is the lesser bugbear.'"

152 OTTERBOURNE.

" By my troth ! I dare say we are one to
him ; or well may be, stationed thus, in such a
place. I marvel much that 'stead of drawing
nearer, he doth not take fright, and gallop
back, holding us for something else than good."

Hester had a certain staid pungency of man-
ner, which she did not depart from, even in her
lighter saUies : at this, as much as at the idea
raised, Amisia laughed.

" Nay," returned she, " Fairies are tiny crea-
tures. Thy brave forai will spare us that re-
pute ; and, I should hope, the traveller hath a
better grace of discernment, than to suppose us
witches."

" He beminds me much of a poor varlet, who
I dare swear, doth think thee one, at least. —
Nay, blush not, wench, I do not mean the gal-
lant swain of Raby; but him we had such
ground to mark, during the Whitsun-festival at
Durham."

" Ah ! Hester, thy thoughts return more oft
to Raby, than do mine," rejoined Amisia, with

OTTERBOURNE. 153

a secret significance not unfelt by her companion.
" But touching the simiUtude you spoke of, my
memory is somewhat treacherous as to thy se
cond object."

Now in the above assertion Amisia did not
use her wonted frankness — wherefore is un-
known— but she assuredly had a shrewd guess,
at the absent party to whom Hester alluded.

" Pshaw ! Amise/' replied the latter, " I am
no blind Bayard and thou no cozener. I mean
the gallant whose gaze pursued thee, at each
day's pageant, as tho' the sight had been his
food of life. Why, thou wer't passing anxious,
then, to leani his name and bearing:."

" Which I ne'er could do,"" said Amisia, ad-
mitting the recollection, and, unwittingly per-
haps, honouring the comer with a narrower
inspection. " Tush ! 'twas his pertinency made
me curious. We women, coz, are daughters of
Eve. Though, marry ! I believe 'twas thy
wicked eyes that drew his after us, were it
soothly known."

H 3

154 OTTERBOURNE,

Hester was not unconscious of possessing some
attraction ki that way, but she, nevertheless,
instantly threw back the accusation as utterly
void of point.

The remarkable frequency with which people
who have been the subject of our thoughts, or
conversation, opportunely burst upon us, is so
notorious, as to have given birth to a proverb.
Some fervid thinkers have hazarded the con-
jecture of ail impalpable intelligence, a sort of
indefinable bodily sympathy, to account for it ;
and, true or false, theories as wild have won
credence. In the present instance, at all events,
a closer approximation convinced the maidens
of what they could not originally have formed
any serious notion ; namely, that the stranger
at hand was certainly the individual whose
image had been suggested. His garb and ge-
neral equipment, would indeed have given the lie
to the supposition, but his surprised inquiring
gaze, coupled with a suffused complexion, and evi-
dently conscious manner, came in confirmation.

OTTERBOURNE. 155

Men ever have been, and ever will be-— until
the millenium — slaves to prejudice and associa-
tion. Dress, — outward bravery, in this virtus
post nummos world, is clearly the ^'one thing
necessary" for holding place in society. To take
our own times, the only exceptions lie in a
*^ plum," or a patent of peerage. These may
enable the fortunate owners to dispense with it,
in circles where they are knoion ; but let simple
talent or moral worth beware of presuming,
unless enfranchised by cost of broad-cloth. But
with regard to the party before us, he looked,
spite of his equivocal appointments, engaging
enough to interest feelings which in this era,
seldom stirred at any thing below knighthood.

Hester, with the bold indifference natural to
her, exposed a stedfast front to the young man's
coming; thereby, compelling Amisia, whose
more feminine timidity might have caused a
shrinking. The effect was, that he had unob-
structed opportunity to ascertain their quality,
ere he stopped for salutation.

156 OTTERBOURNE.

" In the name of all marvels V he then ex-
claimed, his prepossessing lineaments drawn into
a perfect stiidi/ of doubt and pleasureable won-
der, subdued by respect, "can it be the De-
moiselles of Coupland, I behold, alone on this
wild ground? Impossible !"

" 'Tis both possible and true, sir stranger,*'
answered Hester, taking the lead, though the
querist's solicitude seemed solely directed to
Amisia: who, to be communicative, blushed
somehow excessively.

" Pardon my boldness," resumed the youth,
doffing a plain cap, for he wore no head-piece,
and thence, exhibiting a head clustered with
crisp-brown locks ; " I conceived — I thought —
I—"

"Well, no matter for thy thought, man,"
interrupted Hester, rudely enough, " it touches
not ours."

" Perchance,"" said Amisia, willingly anxious
to atone for the abruptness of her friend, " our
jest was earnest, when we said the cavalier would

OTTERBOURNE. 157

deem us elfish sprites, mocking our own resem-
blance. Was't not so, sir V

" Indeed, gentle lady, I know nothing but
that I am favoured in the vision; and, if it be
a cheat of glamour, do owe the actors thanks
and not chiding."

" Heyday ! a master of modes, scouring the
mosses!'' exclaimed Hester, sarcastically. "In
faith, Amise ! we're only secondary castaways
here, after all. Pray, sir, does England, or
Scotland, wail thy wandering?"

" I am in my own land, lady," returned the
youth, coldly, " and thank Heaven for't. I
have some cause too — but that is foreign."

" Yet, art thou not safe in it, fair sir," said
Amisia, moved by the natural kindness of her
heart, if from nought else, to take concern for
her goodly moulded fellow-countryman : " there
is perilous company in thy path."

"A world of thanks for thy kind thought,
lady ! I am prepared. I know the Scot has
made an inroad."

158 OTTERBOURNE.

(C

Ah I but I speak on matter of the moment.
Thou wouldst not cope single-handed with a
whole troop of forayers ? — surely not."

*' Nay, Amise, do not prejudge the cavalier/**
said Hester. " My warrant on*t, he would not
care ! — Would'st, sir?"

"'Twere a silly boast to say so," was the cool
answer.

" Ah ! come ! thafs wisdom fraught and
frank !" she rejoined. "About, then, sir coun-
tryman, for a few yards onward throws thee
into the jeopardy."

" Do, sir. Turn and away !" added Amisia,
*' e'en while we speak the eviPs growing."

"What must I think !'^ he exclaimed, con-
founded rather than alarmed. " Sure nought
can threaten tne, that may not glance on i/ou.
For mine honour's sake ! unfold me more ; that
my actions may be guided according to its re-
quirement."

Amisia then hastily ran over the leading de-
tails of their condition; and again counselled

OTTERBOURNE. 159

the listener to fly ; assuring him, that he only
incurred the risk of partaking their misfortune,
without the least chance of averting it. Still, he
did not obey ; but pressed several questions as
to the strength, composition, and probable future
route of the band ; between which he appeared
to revolve in his mind divers unknown consi-
derations. Amisia was his chief informant
rendered so more by his pointed, though bland
and diffident appeals, than by her own forward-
ness in the office. Indeed, the maiden was,
altogether, deprived of the vivacious impulses
that usually actuated her. Their extraordinary
situation accounted for much, but not for all.
Something in the unknown's look, deferential
and subdued as it was, embarrassed her. She
experienced an unprecedented difficulty in as-
suming that affable superiority of manner, which
she was taught to believe became a noble maid
in an interview with one of questionable, if not
humbler, rank. Nay, to assume the privilege of
laying bare her inmost play of soul, it may be

160 OTTERBOURNE.

affirmed, that she felt levelled to an equality,
she had no disposition to resist. That he was the
same individual vv^hose eyes had paid her such
marked worship elsewhere, she had no doubt; —
that she had girlishly acknowledged the same
by limited return, she also remembered. He,
obviously, was not oblivious. It is probable,
therefore, that the subtle electricity of mutual
consciousness was at work with both.

" I may safely presume,^' he observed, after
having obtained the knowledge he sought for,
" that the gentle demoiselles would gladly be
spared this journey northward."

Hester turned aside.

" Oh ! why trifle with your safety, to put a
quest so needless !" said Amisia, no wise par-
taking in her cousin's strange coolness.

'^With thee, lady, I trifle not, be assured.
What if I be able to prevent it ?"

^^ Young sir, this passes," said Hester, impa-
tiently : " thy lack of self-heed has ere this
convinced us of thy lack of wit; but, please

OTTERBOURNE. 161

thee, be aware, thy failing respect will not meet
equal toleration."

" Thou art too hasty, lady" replied he, " if I
am heedless of my person, the fault merits not the
reproof of those whom I would thereby serve/*

"Thou would'st !" iterated Hester, "why
then for the will we thank thee, and so—
adieu!"

" Nay, this is hasty," interposed Amisia,
resisting; the movement which her friend suoj-
gested, " Fair sir, thy will to serve us, we
question not ; regretting only that it should be
unbacked by any reasonable view of means.
Once more, be wise, and put thy hobby to the
proof."

" I will. Lady Amise, and stoutly ; but not
with selfish purpose. Perchance my means of
bringing succour are not so airy as may now
appear. Certain, I fear, they are not; natheless,
they shall be sought at some cost."

" And if found," cried Amise, " for somehow,

162 OTTERBOURNE.

I do believe thee serious, gratitude, and guerdon,
both await thee."

*' The first, expressed by thee, will pay me
tenfold," was the rejoinder*

<* Remember though, kind stranger," added
Amisia, losing her diffidence in a glow of heart,
" remember, ^tis my dear father must be cared
for; to his fate, mine is in every way sub-
servient. Thou hast seemed to know Sir John
de Coupland ; and may'st, therefore, know him,
for one that will not forget a benefit."

" He shall have rescue, if deed of heart and
limb can work it — a worthless life the pawn^
The saints save thee, sweet lady, till I redeem
my word."

Waving then a respectful adieu, the stranger
wheeled round his active little nag, and was

anon seen, retracing with rapid stretches the
ground he had shortly before passed over.

The two maidens gazed after him for a while
in silence; each had her particular train of

OTTERBOURNE. 163

fancies. Amisia's ran chiefly on his character
and identity ; Hester's, on his promised under-
taking. Both were, in different degrees, im-
pressed by the earnestness and apparent sincerity
of his manner ; but the latter, notwithstanding,
yielded to doubt. Had any English village, or
post of strength, from which aid might be col-
lected, lain near their probable course, she
would have been less sceptical ; but, as it was,
she knew the contrary. Then the cavalier had
bent his way directly towards the Scottish con-
fine, and it was inconceivable, what hopes he,
a simple and solitary Englishma?!, could have in
that quarter.

" Twere well, Hester dear," said Amisia,
breaking the pause, " that we should hie us
back with all speed. Yon ruffians may take
mind to recall our steps, and to detect this new-
found friend ere his retreat be sure/'

Hester complied, but a slight shrug and ele-
vation of eyebrow intimated her indifference to
the motive.

164 OTTERBOURNE.

" I see thou hast no rehance on this chance,*'
observed Amisia, as they proceeded, '^ but
wherefore deny it play. Really, coz, thou art
passing wayward ; and I must needs say, didst
treat your poor countryman with something less
than courtesy."

" Tush ! I care not to lend my ear to every
gamesome varlet's practice. Trust me, Amise,
thou hast too much credulity, where a smooth
chin and fair brow only vouch for sincerity."

" I may confess I do not suspect deceit, where
I cannot surmise inducement," returned Amisia,
nevertheless wincing a little.

" Ah, wench I dost not wot there are those
with whom the present stands for all in all ;
who live on the opinion of the moment, and
think it cheaply bought by proffers. They
salute us with a lie, and leave us with a pro-
mise, given the more freely, because untaxed
by calculations of performance. This fellow
meant but to grace his parting with a flou-
rish."

OTTERBOURNE. 165

Amisia looked her disagreement on the
point.

" Well," said she, " I perceive thou art de-
termined I shall not feed upon fallacious expec-
tation. By my fay ! I could almost suspect
thou wert curious to behold the Scottish hills,
thy concern hath altogether been so light upon
this progress to them."

Hester coloured deeply, and what was un-
wonted in her, seemed embarrassed. Her
features, however, quickly resumed their general
dignified repose.

" My cousin ought to know that I am not apt
to yield to over-wrought fears ; still less to be
prodigal in terms of avowal. But my sense of
misfortune is not the less poignant, because
that I refuse to exaggerate its pressure.'^

" Oh, truly, Hester," replied Amisia, " in
that I do thee ample justice. With thy firm
courage I am enough familiar, but not, as dis-
played in passive patience. Complaint I ne'er
expected from thy Hps ; but did not look to find

166 OTTERBOURNE.

thy swelling soul and English indignation so
close mouthed. Why, wench, I thought to
hear thee talk nothing short of donning casque
and buckler thyself to give these Scots their
due.'*

" Oh ! that I had been born to use them,'*
exclaimed Hester, with sudden enthusiasm,
" then, indeed, would I shew my indignation
on those who have outraged our land, and
wronged my second father. Not, Amise, as
thou wouldst have me now, by powerless
raihng."

The conversation need not be pursued. In
a short time they again mingled with the troop
of borderers ; whom they found preparing to
resume their march. Saddle-girths were tight-
ened, bridles replaced, and the straggling
cattle re-collected. Soon all were in renewed
motion, and the yet unspent-day promised to
see them fairly into Scotland.

OTTERBOURNE. 167

CHAPTER IX.

The lovely brook athwarts the path
Too briefly neared :
That gliding water shews no wrath ;
"Why is it feared ?

The awful situation in which we left Rai-
mond Fameley has not, it is hoped, escaped all
memory. To the vicinity of the little chapel at
Bleaklaw, we must again resort.

Shut up in the interior, the priest and esquire
remained together some time in solemn com-
muning. But to recite the strain thereof, to
particularize the murmurs of the belated
prickers, or to repeat the reproaches, which
Lennard Tyzack relieved bis mind by heaping

168 OTTERBOURNE.

on his thoughtless wife, would fruitlessly extend
our pages. Pass we these to observe, that, in
the mean time, all other vestige of the armed
throngs, wherewith the village had so recently
been encircled, faded into distance. The cir-
cumstance was impatiently noted by Ormiston,
and his tolerance, at the same time, gave way.

" What ho ! sir priest," he cried, indecently
thundering at the portal, " the half-hour's sped.
Bring forth the Englishman straight, else we
must seek him roughly."

" He comes," answered Raimond himself;
stepping erect from within. " He is ready. Thou
mayst now perform thy headsman's task ; and
I will only ask thee to be brief in it."

" Therein, at least, then, I will pleasure thee,"
was the unfeeling retort. " A hobby here ! —
Soil ! — Now, raise the prisoner."

" Untie my hands, and let me mount myself/''
said Farneley calmly. " I have not been used
to need assistance, and do not now."

The request was rudely disregarded, and two

OTTERBOURNE. 169

prickers approached to execute the mandate.
Whereupon, the nerve-strung youth, thrusting
them aside, strode alone up to the animal held
to receive him, and, by a singular effort, clam-
bered into the saddle.

" You behold," he exclaimed, looking gal-
lantly round, for the strong spirit of national
pride was upon him, " how one who has wielded
an English lance goes to the death. Did I but
couch it now, I'd carry company withal.''

Ormiston and his men hastened to mount ;
one springing up behind the prisoner.

"Tyzack!" continued the unhappy esquire
impressively, " forget not my past charge.
And, oh ! if thou canst gain audience of our
noble Warden, tell him, that Raimond Fameley
perished boldly on his duty as a marchman."

No more was permitted, for the Scots imme-
diately surrounded their victim, and led him off,
at a rapid trot, towards the sullen brook de-
signed to be his watery shroud.

Albeit that the jerkin-maker and the few

VOL. I. I

170 OTTERBOURNE.

rustics left with him, did not gaze on this pro-
ceeding with the frozen horror which it would
have excited in most of our living countrymen,
yet were they not urmioved. The elders ex-
changed the trite remark, that the " goodly lad
w^as surely somebody's bairn," and found in the
simple remembrance a melting appeal. They
followed with straining eyes and involuntary
shudderings, the progress of the ill-functioned
party, until the shift of ground concealed them,
and then, 'midst lifting of hands and shaking
of heads, separated to their respective cabins.
• No such compunctious visitings, however,
disturbed the fell resolution of Moray's vassals.
With them no casual sympathies operated to
humanize the savage materials of which the
" strong men of old" seem, almost universally,
to have been composed. Speaking of this, one
would think some change, independant of pro-
gressive refinement, or the spread of religion
even, must have come over the larger part of
mankind. For certainly, the scenes of death

OTTERBOURNE. 171

and aggravated torture upon which our fore-
fathers could look with indifference, if not plea-
sure, were such as we thrill at, in bare imagi-
nation. The polished Romans gloated on the
butchery of gladiators, and abandoned men to
wild beasts : — the chief heroes of the middle
age, hanged, quartered, racked and incarcerated,
as if conscience were a thing unknown to them.
Attribute these enormities to brutality and ig-
norance, the apology fails with reference to the
contemporaries of Virgil and Horace : — charge to
the errors of heathenism, they were Christians
in the days of dungeon, rack, wheel and faggot.
When the jackmen arrived at the side of the
burn, which it will be recollected was the same
near whereto Raimond had in the morning en-
countered Spalding, they lost no time in entering
upon their shocking office. One was dispatched
up, another down its flow, to search for what
they termed a " dub," that is to say, a stilly
pool of some depth. The former speedily re-
turned.

i2

172 OTTERBOURNE.

" This way, sir henchman ;" he notified, " I've
found a swirl would suck down a hay-gofF, were
it such an unchancy handful we had to deal
wi'."

'' Swith, then, carles !" cried Ormiston, " let
us get this cursed darg done ; it's not a cast o'
work to dally o'er."

" We'll not be hindmost in the raid, after
all;" observed the former speaker, " I spied
more of our spears making down the linn."

" I could well spare their company a while,"
observed the leader, " tho' it matters nought.
Aye, sure enough ! here they come. Gilmans-
cleugh, and his menyie I'll hold a groat ! He's
ever either beforehand, or behind."

" Ah !" interjected another, " It would ill suit
the Cranstoun to march under overance with
the main heading."

" Ye're right enough in that, Archie," re-
marked a third. " Yet would I say yon is not
his band. He knows well when to prick for the
foremost clutch, and when to wait till the

OTTERBOURNE. 173

splore's o'er. Now to my reckoning, this is a
time for the early game."

^' Cease your babble there," interrupted Or-
miston. " Here is the spot."

The jackmen obeyed, and all drew up close
to the edge of a deep eddy, caused by a sort of
elbow in the stream.

" Southron," said the cold, unflinching leader,
" behold the bath that sorts thee for knighthood
— in the other world. Prepare.''

Raimond made no reply, and the brute pro-
ceeded to issue detailed orders, which to repeat,
would be disgusting.

Men have been heard of who have neither
blenched nor quailed in moments of this trying-
nature : nay, who have even jested and made
merry. Farneley showed neither the callous
insensibility of the first class, nor condescended
to act like the second. He sat pale and motion-
less upon the animal that bore him ; not osten-
tatiously reckless, but exhibiting no confessed
signs of fear or shrinking.

174 OTTERBOURNE.

At this sad juncture, the late-coming spears
had arrived within a moderate distance, and
could be observed suddenly to open out their
front and considerably quicken pace. Ormiston,
perceiving this, thought proper to face towards
them, and vociferate an hail of friendly inquiry.
A shout in answer came back, but one of very
unexpected character.

" Fye, Tynedale to it !" was the slogan, vi-
gorously rung out, and echoed by a score of
hoarse throats.

In the same instant the whole troop, couching
their lances, burst like a tornado upon the
startled Scots. So prompt was the attack, that
resistance became utterly paralyzed. Lucky
did it prove for Ormiston and a few others, that
they sought safety by dashing across the stream,
and taking to unqualified flight ; for so wiglitly
did the proclaimed Northumbrians bear their
points, that of those who remained not one was
left in the saddle.

The immediate act of Fameley, on hearing a

OTTERBOURNE. 175

war-cry so vivifying, v\^as to throw himself
to the ground, and thereby avoid the risks of
the collision. Almost before he could scram-
ble to his feet, the affair was decided. Then,
his name, pronounced in anxious and familiar
tones, struck upon his ear. He replied
to the call, and forthwith a hard, but kindly
hand, grasped him by the shoulder. It was
that of the Tynedale leader; and he, — Hugh
of Hawden.

"Ha! young kinsman," the latter exclaimed,
" well met, and luckily. By my santy ! we've
got hither in a needful hour."

" You have, indeed, good uncle," replied the
other, emphatically. " Relieve me from these
cords, that I may wring the hand, which, under
God, has saved my unworthy life."

" Did it e'en go so hard with thee, boy ?"
demanded Hugh, a little affected. — " But, I
forget thy bonds ; this will loosen them."

With these words, he drew out his dudgeon
knife, and soon set the joyful esquire at liberty.

176 OTTERBOURNE.

" Jesu-Maria, be praised !" said the released :
" I may yet die like a true brother of arms, in
fair fight ! Uncle, to thee I owe the hope."

" 'Slife ! if thou owest me not better hopes,
Tve done thee small service.'' Where dying's
on the dice, field or flood, cord or lance, are one
and the same to a wise man. No, no, boy, if
thou will look forward, let it be to care-free
days and jovial nights. These are your stuff to
live and long^ for."

The parties then next entered on a train of
mutual inquiries.

If ever sincere gratitude was manifested on
one hand, and honest satisfaction on another, it
was in the present instance. These relatives
did not often meet : a difference of life, a dis-
parity of character, and a slender medium of
intercourse, prevented. Yet were the ties of
consanguinity in no way weakened. Nay, per-
haps, as friends are commonly reputed to agree
best at a distance, an unfrequency of meeting
contributed to maintain kindness without inter-

OTTERBOURJ^E. 177

ruption. They sprang from a slock, poor as to
lineage, and humble as to station ; but likie most
of that class, and particularly in their paternal
dales, they were strongly sensible of the sub-
stantial claims of blood.

Happy is he, who, in this selfish, hollow,
masque of life, can attach to himself hearts in
his own family. Should he succeed, upon them
he may venture to rely. There is a spell in
the name of relative, which, to a certain de-
gree, disarms selfishness, by engendering a
sympathy of interest : it makes the owner, as it
were, a part of oneself, and causes the good
or ill fortune of either to be interchangeably
reflected. This tends to create that mutual de-
pendance, forming the great rock whereon only
a solid friendship can be based.

It is true, that men seldom ^eek confidential
associates amongst their kindred, and, mayhap,
seldom find them to their wish ; but that does
not affect. Where minds are uncongenial —
where there is no reciprocal attraction, there

i3

178 OTTERBOURNE.

can be no friendship of enjoyment : the thing is
not imagined. Nevertheless, even betwixt kins-
men of such diverse dispositions, there may
subsist an assurance, a warm feeling, better cal-
culated to endure the wear and tear of society,
than a finer sentiment less securely buttressed.
Of this, nature must have been the bond which
drew together the gallant esquire, and his blunt,
unaspiring uncle ; for otherwise, their respec-
tive views and habits were utterly inharmonious.
It is time to explain how the Tynedale leader
chanced to appear so exceeding opportunely.
When he learnt from the friar Spalding that the
Scots were gathering in such force upon the
frontier, he stood at no loss to guess what w as to
follow. Now, at that precise moment, in con-
sequence of having lately exhausted his house-
hold provision of beef, he was proceeding to a
rendezvous, appointed for commencing a specu-
lation in Scottish horned cattle. Hence the
intelligence became more valuable. For being
fancifully addicted to privacy in these transac-

OTTERBOURNE. 179

tions, it immediately struck him, that the ab-
sence of the many idle and troublesome people
employed in this great expedition, would leave
him at a most prizable liberty to consult that
humour. Speedy alike in his decisions and in
his actions, he hastened to the place of tryst,
and there, finding a sufficient number of sub-
ordinates, he led them forthwith towards Jed-
worth. It might have sounded a thought more
creditable to Hugh, could we have predicated
that concern for the situation of the Northum-
brian esquire, whom he shrewdly surmised to be
his nephew, had the rather stimulated him:
but as candid narrators, we are compelled to
record the above.

It is, however, but just to subjoin, that he had
very incomplete grounds for imagining the ne-
cessity— and none for anticipating opportunity,
of rendering the direct relief to give which he
was providentially conducted.

Winding by paths only known to similar
rovers, and carefully scanning the country from

180 OTTERBOURNE.

the laws or hills lying on his route, he con-
trived to mark and avoid the march of the in-
vading army. That passed, and the coast, as
he deemed it, clear, he was on the eve of dash-
ing into the deserted district, when Ormiston's
band engaged observation. It was no part of
Hugh's policy to seek a fruitless skirmish ; but
perceiving that he possessed a numerical su-
periority, and moved by the promptings of his
wild spirit, he would not deign to turn aside.
Indifferently nearing the enemy, his hawk eye
detected the presence of a bound and guarded
prisoner. Then, and not till then, the idea of
Farneley recurred to him, as if by intuition. A
closer scrutiny convinced him that he was the
individual he beheld, and upon the belief he
acted. The issue is known.

The Tynedalemen speedily disarmed and se-
cured such of the Scots as were not already in-
nocuous from wounds, making prey of their
horses and arms. They conceived themselves
also to have a " vested interest'' in any movea-

OTTERBOURNE. 181

bles that the vanquished might have borne about
them ; but this " right" they did not exercise ;
well knowing that their trouble would have
gleaned no reward upon the persons of Scottish
jackmen outivard bound.

** Thou wert a bold swankey, Raimond, but
a silly," observed Hugh, " to run a hazard that
near had ended in such dole: methinks thou
art bit by the fiery sprite that rules thy wode-
spurred master. Hast thought, lad, whether this
game be as well worth thy playing, as it is his ?"

" Truly, I looked not so far," replied Raimond,
" but why should it not ? "

" Why, in that thou art but a nameless em-
prizer ; — he, a noble knight."

" But by repetition of such acts I gain a
name."

'^ Aye, such a one as is bestowed on a staunch
hound, or a sure hawk. The deeds of simple
men are but so rated by those they serve."

There was a stinging truth in this remark that
penetrated deeply into the sensorium of the

182 OTTERBOURNE.

younger Farneley. His inward mood was at all
times but too assailable on the identical point.
Visible symptoms of the pent-up chagrin ap-
peared in his altered mien.

" Nay, I would not have thee lose heart on't
either," — resumed Hugh, repentingly noting the
effect his sally had produced ; — " doubting,
'^,a|?> sinks the swimmer. At worst, I wot, thou
sharest lot with most in the world, and may not
'plain for lack of fellows. Then, thou art in
the way, boy : the lord Percy doats on a gallant
chevisaunce, by whomsoever performed. Who
knows what's in store ? Why should not the heel
of a Farneley become a gilt spur as well as
another's ? It is a good wight-riding name, an'
I trow ! our fore-elders were as near Adam as
the king's."

The esquire shook his head in unchanged

spirit.

" Thou art kind, uncle," said he, " in trying
back for a new scent, but that thou didst open
on is the true. Yes, yes, we dare in deed, and

OTTERBOURxNE. 183

swell in thought, but to attain a fuller sense of
our exclusion. Does a rare chance crown our
efforts with, what will be called, success ; ho-
nour is doled to us with a grudge, and serves,
at best, only to upraise a thankless posterity."

" If you believe all this, why not live as I do,
free of men, instead of suffering in ungrateful
association ? Why keep up a struggle that taxes ^i:^
without vantaging ?"

"My wishes, and thence my habits, tug
towards the companionship of chivalry. It is
my breath — my life. In the race, I may suffer
checks and heart-burnings ; but as an onlooker,
I could not exist."

" Content ye, then -^ rejoined the plain dales-
man, " the bowmen who fixes his own butt may
not murmur if his shafts fail to carry. But who
have we here ?" breaking off, to scan the person
of a pedestrian that happened to draw near,
" sure I should know that jerking hop-halt !
It is Lin Tyzack, that was chased out o' Caple-

184 OTTERBOURNE.

stone for speaking ill o' the Reeve. Ho ! thou
slasher of hides ! which side o' the border do'st
now affect?"

Tyzack, for he it was, acknowledged the
challenge. Incited by the interest he could not
help feeling for thefateof Farneley,he had issued
beyond the village to watch its consummation ;
and witnessing instead the fortunate change of
affairs, made a shift to gain the scene of
action.

" A thrifty ride to thee, Hughie of Hawden,'*
said he, " thou do'st not forget old gossips, I
see ; no more do I, when I can think well o'
them. As to which side o' the border Fm upon;
- — ye may ask it o' the Lord's Keepers, for it's
more than I can tell. Sir squire," addressing
Raimond, with some earnestness, " I never was
held a trickster in speech, and trust ye'll not
deem me one now, when I declare that thy
escape has eased this breast of a right sad
aching."

OTTERBOURNE. 186

" By my santy !" exclaimed Hugh, " but liv ing
near the Scot has brought an unlikely thing to
pass/'

'* As how, prithee V* demanded Tyzack, who
saw from the other's manner, that the exclama-
tion bore reference to himself.

" Why it has smoothened thy tongue, and
made thee show feeling for another man's pain,''
was the reply.

Tyzack balanced his unsteady frame, and
bent a hard and serious look upon the speaker.
It seemed as if the emotions the past event had
excited, whilst they subdued his asperity, had
left him more gravely sensitive.

" Hark ye, friend of Hawden," said he, " when
thou hast endured the spumings of the great,
the brute-play of the strong, and the gibes of
the roisterer ; when weakness, which should be
a buckler, has instead, drawn on abuse and
insult from cheap-daring cowards ; when in-
firmity, which should bespeak compassion, brings
on thy head mockery and ridicule ; then, and

186 OTTERBOUENE.

not before, may'st thou guage my mind. Ye,
who can by strong hand right your own wrong,
and on the spot repay the injury, think it mighty
generous that ye bear no after malice. Why
should ye ? your blood is tempered — your ac-
compt is struck, and there's no more on't. Not
so with me. I have been scoffed at by all —
trodden on by all — and compelled to bear all ;
but not enabled to forget all. As memory prompts
me I am wont to speak, and I cannot help ifs
being ill."

" Odsbody ! gaffer Tyzack ! " exclaimed Hugh,
somewhat astounded by the effusion he had
heard, " why thou hast surely stumbled on the
tongue of a preaching clerk, in thy roamings,
and given us the last words that lay on the tip
o't. At any rate, then, it seems thou hast no
grudge lying at my brother's son's door."

" None ;" answered Linny, *' I owe him rather
grace for kindness. And let me tell thee what
may please thee more, Hughie. England and
Scotland have been to me but as two ban-dogs

OTTERBOURNE. 187

worrying each other, and snapping at me be-
side ; yet, has the bearing of thy young kinsman
this morn, made me proud that my first skirl
was winded south of Cheviot."

** Oh ! my life on him!" exulted Hugh.
'* The Farneley's are all true steel, back and
edge. But 'sbody ! how I'm wasting the day,
and have the holms of Beamerside to clear be-
fore the night ; aye, and see the moon on Gau-
dilands. Troop, my jolly reivers, troop ! — And
now, nephew, what can I do for thee ?"

" Leave me horse and arms. I must straight
hie homeward," answered Raimond. " There
will be doings to-ward, which I should be loath
to lose a share in.'^

^* There are a half-dozen at choice," returned
the other, pointing to those lately captured.
'* Tho' bethink thee, ar't in a state to cross the
fells, or would it, e'en now, be wise to try ?"

" Certes no," interposed Linny, " this day
has done its dole, and fully. Be avised, sir
squire. Rest under my rooftree till the next

1^8 OTTERBOURNE.

dawning, and then start with a fresh pith and
a clear country."

" Linny is right, nephew," urged Hugh.
*' Twere a mad thought to boun with fainting
spirit, a half-tired hobby and a sinking sun.
Sojourn the night at Bleaklaw, and to-morrow
we may prick in company."

The esquire, experiencing that relaxation of
fibre which usually follows extreme tension, ac-
knowledged the wisdom of this counsel, and con-
sented to its adoption.

The Tynedale chief then proceeded to issue
his final ordinances. " You, Scots," he began,
addressino; the crest-fallen remnant of Ormis-
ton's men, "shall be laid fast in Bleaklaw
until I pass this way back. Not that I build
on aught of ransom ; for I know the devil one
o' ye has a cross to bless his pouch with, or a
neighbour that wouldn't sooner give it to ha' ye
kept in bondage. No, as Fm too soft-hearted
to ha' ye throvm neck and heels into this dub,
which would be the handiest surehold, I must

OTTERBOURNE. 189

clog your legs in another sort; for I will not
leave them loose to raise the country on me.
So, forward, ye louns ! — and you two, wily Will
and big Mat o' Hesleyside, take charge o'er
them, and spear the first that cheeps of run-
ning."

Hugh having completed his directions, the
whole set onward.

" I might ha' made shorter work with these
jackmen," remarked he, as if in j ustification of
what he feared might be held an imprudent act
of forbearance, "but we moonlight riders care
not to raise more feuds than we can help. Had
it not been for thy sti-ait, Raimond, I had no
great mind to fall on yonder."

" Go to ! my bold uncle," replied the esquire,
" the sight of a Scotch baron's armed vassals,
about to plant hoof on English ground, would,
I am sure, at any time, have heated thy spur."

" Why aye ! that, indeed, shapes a difference !
Had they been free honest shifters, like our-
selves, it had been nice dealing.*'

190 OTTERBOVRNE.

The distinction here raised did not at all
accord with the young esquire's notions of pro-
priety or patriotism ; but he let it pass ; knowing
the inutility of combating the rooted opinions
of habit.

Raimond, and not Hugh, Fameley was the
exception to the common character of their
race The latter, an almost landless dalesman
of Tyne, pursued, with scarcely a sense of dis-
repute, the customs of his fathers. What these
were, the annals of the border abundantly
record, and the reader can by this time identify.
Of a clear head and quick capacity, he might
have been a superior creature ; but unschooled
in honour, and associating only with the wildest
of men, he became — or rather he continued
ever — such as we have seen him.

After reaching the village, Raimond again
resorted to the cabin of the jerkin-maker, and
Hugh, ridding his band of incumbrances, can-
tered briskly forward on his foray.

OTI lUilJOlJliMi. 191

CHAPTER X.

I saw and loved her so nearly together that I do not know if
I saw her before I loved her, or loved her before I saw here.

CALDfRON.

Fore heaven I am ashamed
Thou hast a kinsmen's interest in me !
* * *

I could eat my spur-leathers for anger !

Every Man in his Humour.

Nothing can excuse unlimited digressions
in a story but the dulness of the main theme ;
a sort of apology scarce likely to be often
offered. Let not the too experienced reader
rise up in alarm, under the shrewd impression
that the disclaimer prognosticates a disposition
to commit the sin : we are about to be elucida-
tory, not erratic.

At the era in which Raimond Farneley
flourished, it was a circumstance essential to

192 OTTERBOURNE.

estimation in the pursuit he loved, that the
aspirant should be of noble, or at least, gentle
origin. He was of neither, as the thing was
then understood. In our — it is hoped — more
sensible times, there need be no hesitation in
avowing that he was but the son of a plain low
born * churl.' True, that his father (like him-
self, an anomaly in their house), had raised
himself to a place of worship amongst the
burgesses of the ancient town of the New-
castle; still, the defect of blood (!) fettering
the youth's generous ambition, remained un-
cured. The boasted wisdom of the elder ages
— younger they should be called — could find
no attribute by which to distinguish a man, but
the almost solitary one beyond his control, the
accident of birth. To be sure, those already
favoured in that respect, were the dispensers of
honour, and naturally inclined to enhance the
dignity of their own body.

It is not discursively that this barbarism is
brought under reprehension. Upon the mind

OTTERBOURNE. 193

of Farneley, as upon his prospects, it weighed
heavily — much more heavily than, even then,
it ought. His spirit, no less than his intellect,
repelled its operation ; for in the first he was
energetic, in the last revolving ; but who or what
can overleap positions of universal acquiescence.
Moreover, the career he had embraced threw
him in the way of having his conventional dis-
advantao:e continually brou2;ht home to him
and magnified to its maximum. We all know
what delight little people, who chance to pos-
sess some petty privilege, take in dragging it
before others who do not ; of these he had met
many. By them his memoiy was incessantly
refreshed upon the special fact which an irre-
sistible epidemic made him most wish to forget.
Fortune, however, though she thus frowned
on him at the outset, had been gradually won
to smiles. Several feats of romantic valour per-
foimed in sallies out of Bervvdck whilst the in-
trepid Harry Percy, already surnamed Hotspur,
was governor, had obtained him the favour of

VOL. I. K

194 OTTERBOURNE.

that enthusiast in arms. Mqualis (Equalem de-
lectat, A similarity of age recommended him
further, and introduced him to relations which
gave his finer qualities scope to discover them-
selves. Capacity of head, as well as command
of hand, was not to be met in every ordinary
man-at-arms, and his, Sir Henry so highly ap-
predated, that in spite of common prejudices,
he appointed him, ultimately, one of his body
esquires. Since, he had accompanied his lord on
an adventurous expedition to Calais, and in the
plains of Picardy sterlingly approved himself.—-
Now, to attend him in Northumberland.

On the return of day, the esquire bade an
early adieu to Bleaklaw. It is unnecessary to
travel with him across the dreary range of moor-
land fells, whereover he was bound to journey ;
but the rather, to drop at once upon the inter-
ruption which awaited him. It came in a shape
as extraordinary as unexpected. This will be
explained when we predicate that it was he who
encountered the ladies of the house of Coupland

OTTERBOURNE. 195

in manner before detailed. There were causes, to
be touched on anon, that rendered his sensations
during the interview somewhat unfriendly to
cool decisions; nevertheless, he was not long
in bringing one to maturity. It was to waylay
his wild uncle's band on its return, and, with
that assistance, rescue the captives. Upon
Hugh he believed he might securely rely for co-
operation; to communicate with him was the
object of his rapid retrograde.

In enjoying by anticipation the delight of
succouring these ladies, he experienced more
than a chivalric gratification. Amongst the
crowd of gallants who hovered around Amisia
de Coupland, more or less distantly, Farneley
had been, save during a late celebrity, unob-
served by herself. Not so she of him. At joust,
at pageant, and at eveiy other show wherein the
fair of these days exposed their charms to the
gaze of the multitude, hers was the form his
eyes eagerly sought out, and having found, fixed
on in silent banquet. No bumpkin who sees a

k2

196 OTTERBOURNE.

county beauty on the race stand, and licks his
lips in gaping admiration from below, could be
more intense, more removed, or more bashful in
his raptures. Yet was the sentiment he felt in-
definite. Love, it has been said, cannot exist
without some encouragement, however faint and
wire-drawn. Of such, he had not the shadow.
Their orbits were so distinct as to preclude even
a passing courtesy, much less admit familiar
converse. Then her station — her prospective
wealth, gave her claims far indeed beyond his
condition. He had, therefore, been accustomed
to regard her as an object desirable in the most
extravagant sense of the word, to those who
might aspire to her ; but of the number, he
could not conceive himself to be one. Galling^
and bitter was the belief, but the morbid con-
sciousness of depression, which was his weak-
ness, made it all-powerful. Neither was he ig-
norant that an illustrious young nobleman of
the province was a reported suitor. Indeed, as
he seldom saw the lady without his being at her

OTTERBOURNE. 197

side, he had early assumed the fact. To have
the power to sue Amisia seemed to him enough
to prove it ; for who but must burn to use so
blissful an immunity.

Notwithstanding all this, Farneley could " eat,
drink, sing, and be merry," as though the hoary
de Coupland had never in his old age had a
daughter. A beautiful vision did indeed flit
before him, but the icy medium through which
he viewed it cooled what might have been a
lively passion into a mere day-dream. To feel
all the thrillings and writhings of love, the
" stricken deer" must have substantial stimu-
lants as well as painful doubts. An amorous
flame requires fuel to kindle on ; without, it will
only be like the luminous exhalations that
flicker o'er a marsh, pale, sickly, and impalp-
able.

It remained for the late meeting to inflame
with vital fire the quiet combustibles collected
and seasoned in his bosom. He had spoken
with his goddess, and found her — woman. He

198 OTTERBOURNE.

had noted in her cheek the dancing play of
blood—- read the involuntary proclamation of
her eyes — and caught the traitorous sinkings of
her voice. Not that these deluded — not that they
raised the shadow of a hope as to futurity ; but
the sweet poison was thence poured sensibly into
his veins. Henceforth, his passion became rest-
lessly active, and the separation betwixt Amisia
and himself, erst viewed with calmness, yawned
and blackened into a gulf of painful despair.

Luckily for his design of the moment, he
stumbled on the Tynedale troop even earlier
than he expected. A riotous and much varied
drove of cattle formed its advanced guard, an-
nouncing that the incursion had not been unsuc-
cessful. Then followed the free-rangers them-
selves, most leading spare horses, and all well
laden with booty. Great glee and good-humour
was obvious in bursts of laughter, and frequent
essays in practical joke.

When Raimond perceived the encumbered
condition of the men, and the jaded appearance

OTTERBOURNE. 199

of their steeds, he began to entertain some mis-
givings as to the success of his plan ; but in no
way deten-ed, he pushed through the stragghng
horde, and sought the chieftain. Him he found
riding in rather novel company ; for at his side
jogged Linny Tyzack, with his better half
strapped behind on the same animal. The wor-
thy jerkin-maker, it transpired, had taken a re-
solution to shift his quarters, a step not unusual
with him, and availed himself of the present
eligible means. After what had occurred at
Bleaklaw, he did not deem it prudent to prolong
his stay there.

A volley of greetings and marvellings followed
the junction of the parties ; the first, Raimond
duly returned ; and the latter cut short by re-
lating his recent adventure.

Hugh listened to the recital with an air of
considerable interest, mingled with signs of
peiplexity.

"Umph!" he ejaculated, in a long conside-
rative drawl, " I grieve for the old knight's

200 OTTERBOURNE.

case. He's a bluff heart, and's been no ill friend
to the border. Who, say ye, drives the prey V

" A Teviot-man — one Cranstoun ; thou may'st
know him."

" What, Gilmanscleugh ? — Know him ! — ay,
that I do. I would it had been any body
else !"

" Why, you do not fear him, my stout kins-
man?" propounded Raimond, a little dissatis-
fied with his uncle's coolness.

" Fear him ! I fear no man, sir squire. But,
soothfastly, there's been bread and salt 'twixt
me and Clem, which is bad to get o'er. I fear
I may scarce mell with him."

" Heaven and earth ! what do I hear? Good
uncle, bethink thee ! wilt see gentle demoiselles,
as well as a renowned old Northumbrian, dragged
across the border without striking to pre-
vent ? Oh ! 'twere shame upon thy Tynedale
strein.'*

^' Natheless, nephew, I will not strike."

" Then I give thee up as a recreant march-

OTTERBOURNE. 201

man, and no Farneley !" broke out Raimond,
unable to contain his disappointment and indig-
nation,

" So, there!" cried the dale-chief, elevating
his eyebrows, and giving a provoking chuckle;
" wait, friend, and take me v^th thee. I will
not strike, I say again — unless other means
drop short : but that seen, there may be a ditty
to sing. Old de Coupland shall not pass me a
prisoner, an' it lie in fair wightlihood to with-
stand."

That the sanguine hope he had entertained,
of winning a claim on Amisia's grateful remem-
brance, should be dissipated ; and worse, that he
should appear to her in the light of a boasting
pickthank, were thoughts intolerable to the ar-
dent esquire: it may be beUeved, therefore,
that Hugh's concluding declaration was as ac-
ceptable as timely.

" Spoken like my father's brother !" he ex-
claimed. " Prithee, uncle, pass o'er my hasti-
ness, and let us take order for this action.

k3

202 OTTERBOURNE.

Trust me, it may not be thought to spare
blows."

" Softly ! I know it may/' rejoined the other ;
we honest marchers, that ride for our own
hands, have customs little wist of by ye that
boun with the Lord Warden."

" Ignoble ones I fear. Oh! bold Hugh ! you
have largely bought my gratitude already; beg-
gar my heart outright, by trying this lay with
lance in manful fashion."

" Bait me no more, boy !" said Hugh,
roughly; giving tokens of irritation. "Fll have
my humour, Think'st thou, because of his fol-
lowing a noble, and, peradventure, wearing a
brighter knapscap, that I will bide bidding from
a springald. No, no ; the free spear of Haw-
den guides his own way on the mosses/'

Raimond, thus rudely checked by one, whom,
however, he might regard, he had not learnt
highly to respect, drew aside in moody silence.
Hitherto accustomed to be honoured with a sort
of deference by his kinsman, not imnatural^

OTTERBOURNE. 203

considering the superiority of his flight in
the world, he felt this rebuff the more keenly.
But any merely personal pique that he acknow-
ledged, sunk to nothing in comparison with the
chagrin of being denied an opportunity of sig-
nalizing his courage in the eyes and service of
the beauteous Amisia ; — of exhibiting that prow-
ess wherein he had some reason to rest confi-
dence. To this, the bare act of rescue seemed
in his view only subservient. Strange, that at
any time men should have fancied ability to
destroy and injure, the arch excellence ; and still
stranger, that such an attribute should have
found distinguished favour with the tender sex.
But the above was not the only vexation
Raimond anticipated in connexion with Hugh's
probable mode of prosecuting the affair. His
knowledge of border policy enabled him par-
tially to catch the dalesman's intentions ; and
guessing these, caused him to wince under the
apprehension of being confounded in association
with him and them. Willingly would he have

204 0TTERE013RNE.

soup-ht other instruments wherewith to have ac-
complished his wishes and redeemed his promise,
but he knew it vain. Nay, so poignant, on
longer reflection, grew the shame of confessing
such an ally — and that ally his father's brother,
that he was wellnigh inclined to throw the ex-
ploit altogether into his hands, and avoid being
further seen in it. In counteraction, came the
respect due to his personal pledge, and an un-
controllable yearning to be, on any terms, again
near a blaze of attractions which could only
scorch himself.

For several miles the pulk (a cossack term,
here very applicable) continued its course ; the
leader holding no communication with his
nephew, though it was pretty evident from the
indulgent expression on his hard, but not ill-
meaning features, and the sidelong glances he
occasionally bestowed on him, that no very
serious affront had been taken on his part.
Devoid of offspring himself, Raimond had
always been, during their rare meetings, a sort

OTTERBOURNE. 205

of pet with him : perhaps the difference of their
characters only made him more so. Those
emanations of nicer feehng which sometimes
clashed with his own mode of life, he generally-
received much in the manner that a stout mastiff
does the petulant play of his master''s urchin
heir.

At length, a scout that had been purposely
despatched in advance, returned with informa-
tion that the Scottish foray was for certainty
coming in sight. Hugh, immediately on the
news, assumed the practised warrior. He caused
the cattle and impediments to be left in the rear,
and drew up his spears in the most imposing
way he could. He, himself, rode forward in
front, accompanied by Raimond, to whom the
symptoms of hostile preparation gave reviving
satisfaction.

The space between the two bands soon
diminished to such a degree, as to render it
time for one or other to demonstrate attack, or
for both to halt and await events. The cautious

206 OTTERBOURNE.

alternative was chosen. Then, each body,
standing at gaze, divulged fairly its respective
strength, and that appeared to hang at a balance.
It was a curious spectacle. On either side were
seen the subjects of a different crown, loaded
with the fruits of an ancient and peculiar ' act
of reciprocity.' Their numbers equal — their
booty equal — and all equally disposed, rather
to hold what they had got, than to fall by the
ears about the how and the where of its getting.

Behind the enemies' spears, Raimond could
plainly perceive the group of prisoners, watching
anxiously for the onset they doubted not was
impending. The figure of the old knight was
especially conspicuous, from the violent gesti-
culations, with which, to his own peril, he
laboured to cheer on those he believed his
friends. Amisia could also be discerned, striv-
ing to calm and restrain her sire's excess of
frenzy.

" Why this pause ? — ^why this hesitation ?'^
cried the esquire, addressing his relative, in a

OTTERBOURNE. 207

fever of impatience. " There are the caitiffs :
what remains but to surge down and sweep them
Uke a bursting moss. Thou wert not yesterday
so tardy. By the rood ! De Coupland thinks
us cravens !"

The Tynedale leader paid no regard to this
exhortation ; but after giving his men a strict
charge to continue steady, and obey no com-
mands but his own, he rode slowly and singly
towards the Scots. Slinging his lance, and
letting it trail upon the ground, he from time
to time raised both hands above his head^ as if
to shew that he did not handle weapon, and
vociferated the words ; — "A Farneley ! a
Farneley !"

No sooner was the overture palpable to the
opposed array, than its leader, putting forward
in similar style, answered by the cry of " A
Cranstoun !'* In the end, they met and greeted
peaceably.

The observant esquire heeded this ceremony
with recurring displeasure. He suspected it to

208

OTTERBO URN E.

be the precursor of some such unwarrior-hke
bye-play as he had previously chafed to sur-
mise. The careful shew of battle, which had
momentarily diverted this from his thought, he
now saw was simply a precaution of wariness.
The length of the conference certified him. It
appeared to be conducted on both sides without
intemperance. Once, indeed, the gestures of
the English orator became exceeding vehement,
but his warmth anon subsided, like that of a
man mollified by concession. At length, the
pair separated, and each returning to his com-
mand, issued a string of directions which will
be best explained by results.

The scene of this occurrence was an open
firm-bottomed moor, whereover there was no
road, save that which it answered the conve-
nience of the traveller to make. In conse-
quence, it was perfectly possible for the most
crowded trains to traverse it without meeting or
jostling. Why the circumstance obtains notice,
will instantly be perceived. The two companies

OTTERBOURNE. 209

once more set themselves in motion ; but, instead
of progressing directly onward to a collision,
each diverged to its right hand, and circled
clear of the other; continuing the compass
until a complete change of position was effected.
During the operation, it became obvious that
the English captives had been abandoned to
their own guidance : they were to be seen
crossing the middle ground, with view to join
their countrymen.

" Now, sir squire," said Hugh, exultingly to
his nephew, as the proceeding developed itself,
" What think ye o't ? Have I not kept my
word ? Is not this well, I say ?"

" How well ? to shew a truckling colleagance
with the Scot — our country's fell foe and ra-
vager," was the discontented reply.

" Colleagance, quotha ! to force the best
part of a prey out o'the taker's teeth ! Com-
mend me to none such, unless I always have
this day's share o't. Dost think such favours
are won by friendship and fair speech ? No,

210 OTTERBOURNE.

boy, something else must go to the bar-
gain,"

" Our lances would have won the same,
more worthily," rejoined Raimond, his pri-
vate aspirations whetting his chivalric sensi-
bilities, " So far the ending's good, but we
have lost."

" Bah ! you kill my patience. Nought can
be lost where all is gained. But here comes,
Sir John, he should be satisfied at least. Shout
mates ! and give the worthy knight an Enghsh
welcome."

His men took accordingly the hint, and hailed
the old banneret's contiguity with noisy gratu-
lations. Neither to Hugh nor they, was the
future countenance of such a personage a thing
to be neglected, now that chance had thrown
them a claim to it.

" Halloo, again ! ye knaves !" exclaimed the
said party, riding joyously up, " Cogs bones !
ye make noise enough in wind, I'd rather hear
ye ring clang upon the jacks o' yon rascalrie,

OTTERBOURNE. 211

and splitting noddles instead of ears. Who's
foreman here?"

" A poor wight of Tynedale, an' it like your
worship," answered Hugh, putting himself for-
ward, and deferentially saluting the querist,
" and one glad to offer his duty to the lord o'
Coupland."

" Ah ! why I should know that tanned-hide
visage ! Thou'rt of Hawden, art not?''

"Ay, your worship; I've some land there.
It once fed two pewits."

" How comes it, man, thou, that art known
both on Tyne and Rede for a bold pricker and
a good spear, shouldst let these bannock-
fed shifters off without cracked crowns —
hey ?"

" Methinks I did pretty well when I made
them give up their grip of your knightship."

" Not amiss, man ; not amiss. I'll not forget
it either. But thou hast still left them some-
thing to shew for't. I'd fain ha' seen them
stripped and stark ; and thou thyself would not

212 OTTERBOURNE.

ha' been the worse o' the trouble, I can tell
thee."

" Why, soothly, sir knight, I am an ill-
plenished yeoman, and have a pack of short
fasting louns to keep in humour, who aye think
an egg to-day better than a hen to-morrow.
Now we've, as thou may'st see, had thrifty
reason in our raid, and made a gathering that
the chances of a tuzzle here, might as like ha'
worsened as bettered ,• so I thought it wisest to
let a fair yielding content all."

"Aha!" cried Sir John, in too pleased a
mood to be unappeasable, " I fancy you dales-
men care not who is berried in your own march
so long as ye can ride and reive in the other.
Confess, man — for my eyes, tho' old are not use-
less— yon Scot, yon Cranstoun is not the salmon
you care to liester."

" There has been, now and then, a truce, thou
knowest. Sir John," said Hugh, apologetically,
" and, mayhap we've then been gossips ; but
what o' that ? By God's santy ! had he offered

OTTERBOURNE. 213

to ha' held thee or thine against the grain, I'd
ha' found a joint in his splents. Leave Hugh
Fameley alone, when the manhood of his
country's touched."

" Certes, varlet, thou hast laid me under debt
of a good word, which I w4il pay when it is
asked ; and something weightier before 'tis
asked : but of that hereafter. Yet, harkee, my
cock of Hawden ! let me sound it in thine ear,
— that he who keeps standing league with the
Scot in time of war, is guilty of march-treason,
and may hang. I say it but in counsel."

To this Hugh, laughing, made a palliative
reply, and then put his company en route;
still, however, continuing by the knight's side.
They afterwards paced on together in easy chat,
Raimond joining the ladies in the rear. Whilst
the youth rendered some befitting courtesies to
the latter, his appearance attracted the casual
attention of Sir John, who inquiring of Hugh,
was informed of the service he had performed
in his behalf

214 OTTERBOURNE.

" Something of the kind my daughter whis-
pered me," he remarked. " Soh ! that is he.
A hkely stripUng, and of seeming nurture too.
How is he called ?"

" Farneley," answered Hugh, " Raimond, it
pleased his father to add to it, tho' I wot he's
the first of his blood that ever had such an
outlandish surname. Plain Hugh might ha'
served the turn."

" He is of thy kin then ?"

" My own brother's son."

" And a free scourer like thyself, I warrant ?"

" No, your worship, no. My brother is a
man of some having, and his ways are not
mine. He has bred his boy to gentle offices."

Further inquiry led to Raimond's being
brought forw^ard in his true character; and
procured him the personal acknowledgments of
De Coupland. The gratification these gave
him barely compensated for the pain he was
weak enough to feel at having his connexion
with a man like Hugh Farneley, at the same

OTTEHBOURNE. 215

ime, proclaimed. We call this a weakness,
oecause it was not the pursuits of his uncle of
which he was so much ashamed, as of the esta-
blishment, through him, of his own plebeian
extraction.

"Bethink, sir squire," said the knight, "of
some way in which I can benefit thee. It is
not meet that the Coupland should be thought
ungrateful."

At this appeal Raimond summoned up all the
nobihty of mien, of which he had much, and
respectfully declined the proffer.

" One who has the honour to bear the lance
of Sir Harry Percy,'* said he, " would, indeed,
be unworthy the distinction, did he accept pri-
vate guerdon for a public devoir. Sir John de
Coupland has claims upon his countrymen,
which make ousfht done for his behoof of such
a nature.""

The cavalcade shortly fell into quiet travel.
Sir John, Mouboucher, and the dalesman riding
m one alisninient; the friar and Tyzack, con-

216 OTTERBOURNE.

genial souls, in another ; the ladies and Raimond
in a third.

That the gracious amenity with which Amisia
listened to the gradually warming conversation
of the interesting young squire, was chiefly
directed to him as the zealous agent of their
enfranchisement, may not be doubted. Young
ladies are indeed peculiarly sensible to gratitude
when the exciter is — as the old comedies have
it — a ' pretty fellow,' and certainly she was not,
on this occasion, steeled to form an exception.
EvenHester, influenced by the newly-ascertained
pretensions of the youth so far as they went,
softened in her demeanour.

Farneley himself, kindled by past and pre-
sent excitement into that glow and whirl of
spirit, which is the most effectual banisher of
diflidence and its concomitant gaucherieSf let
forth in well-chosen strains, the romantic ver-
biage wherein chivalry was accustomed to ad-
dress beauty. To this, his flexible tones, and
a subdued sort of fervour, partly habitual, and

OTTERBOURNE. 217

partly superinduced by present feelings, lent a
dangerous power. Of undeniable mental en-
dowments, he possessed an allowable conscious-
ness of them ; and when, as now, momentarily
freed from the millstone pressure that too fre-
quently crushed them, he could take the proud-
est flights with a command of pinion that proved
an unquestionable right to soar ; his soul, thus
emancipated, could assume the highest ground,
and swell before the highest rank, without any
sense of embarrassment. Yet these flashings
out of hidden fire were accompanied by no self-
forgetful arrogation ; his then easy fluency
warranted itself for an unlaboured and legiti-
mate assertion of intellectual dignity. It was
only when the want of lineage (raised by the
Gothicism of his day into a disability) came
across him, that he sunk entirely into the
unobtrusive esquire.

Neither ladies were insensible to these marked
emanations of a superior nature. Amisia, though

VOL. I. L

218

OTTERBOURNE.

she at first met them only with that bridled
suavity becoming a maid of condition to display
towards one of ambiguous station, eventually
yielded herself wholly to a familiar and, there-
fore, hazardous communion.

%

OTTERBOUENE. 219

CHAPTER XL

" Thou idol honour which we fools adore, •

(How many plagues do rest in thee to give us,)
Which when we have, we find there is much more
Than that which only is a name can give us."

Drayton.

The late captives and their liberators con-
tinued to journey together, until the cold brown
moors being wellnigh traversed, the signs of
culture and habitation began distantly to ap-
pear. Hitherto, the lesser party had kept in
company without nicely calculating how far
their ultimate destination assimilated with that of
the greater ; but they had now arrived at a point
where the necessity of more matured decision
became obvious. This, in particular, when they

l2

220 OTTERBOURNE.

touched the fork of a faintly-beaten path, strik-
ing to the right, and winding along the edge of
a tangled dean (ravine) in the direction of Hex-
hamshire. Here, Hugh of Hawden, calling his
own people to a halt, informed Sir John that the
track in question was that which it behoved him
to take.

" Worshipful sir knight," said he, raising his
weather-stained chaplet, for these borderers were
not without a dash of politic courtesy, " I fancy
our roads will hardly lie longer in one bent, un-
less it beseem thee to partake such hospitality
as my poor peel of Hawden can yield : — if the
which be, thou wilt confer both honour and
great pleasaunce on thy willing servitor."

" Gramercy for thy proffer, my bluff sides-
man," answered Sir John, " tho', on more suits
than one, methinks, it may not be. Mouboucher,
here man ; and thou, friendly sir squire ; let us
take counsel."

The summons formed a signal for a general
congregation of those concerned; as well in-

OTTERBOURNE. 221

directly as directly, for Father Noel and Linny
Tyzack both thrust themselves forward.

" What say'st thou, my old squire ?'* said the
knight, accosting Mouboucher. " By*r lady,
these times remind me of thy past function ; tho'
I misdoubt whether thou canst take to't again
as aptly ! — Shall we not to Coupland, man? —
Corsinside is, I guess, no place for us by
this."

" Coupland is too distant, as well as of too
bad approach from where we rest,'' returned
Mouboucher. " 'Twere wiser, I think, to make
round through Coquetdale, and seek present
shelter from the monks at Brinkburn. We can
ride thither ere nightfall."

" Nay ; I like not that ; I would have my
jackmen round me without delay. Rather back
to yon burning walls and raise my vassals there
But then again, these dearlings must be cared
for."

" Surely, my lord," said Mouboucher : " let
us place the ladies in safe harbour, and then

222 OTTERBOURNE.

speed a post to rouse your menyie. They will
not be slack to muster."

" Slack enough for the bold Warden's haste,
I dare be bound. There's no voice like the
lord's, either to call up or hound on. Spur and
spear must be the word. Why shake thy head,
Bertram? Dost think I am no longer the
lance I was at the Red-hills?"

Bertram looked the opinion, but did not ex-
press it.

" Sir John de Coupland," observed Raimond,
delicately, " has already done double devoir to
his country. From two generations of our
northern knighthood he has born the palm of
chivalry; his best deed, now, were to cherish
repose, that so bright a living example may
the longer continue to incite our growing
warriors."

" Aha," broke in Hugh, determined not to
miss an opportunity of ingratiation from any
scruple on pushing it too broadly, " 'Tis well
for them to put that face on't. God's troth !

OTTERBOURNE. 223

they like not the thought o' being shamed by
the same hand that shamed their fathers.''

Sir John was not by nature a nice discrimina-
tor; nor was the weakness of his age proof
against this * flattering unction :* he received it
greedily.

" Where blows were dealing, I've tried to
play my part," he rejoined, endeavouring to
repress the complacent smile that was, notwith-
standing abundantly apparent, " and, mayhap,
I can still. Would I were in Coupland ! Then
let this Scottish rout beset me, and I'd give
them practice for their patience and their leeches.
I still have skill to keep my hold, and in it flout
at odds."

" 'Twas well seen yesterday," muttered Spald-
ing, whose disposition to sneer at what he con-
sidered the vanity of a pernicious school could
not always be restrained by the dictates of
decorum.

The old banneret's ear caught the sarcasm,
and damping as it did the crowing satisfaction

224 OTTERBOURNE.

lie had just exhibited in himself, the effect was
peculiarly oifensive.

*'HaI say'st thou, malapert gownsman!"
he exclaimed, in choler. " Dost dare to remind
me tauntingly of a mischance thine own foul
trifling brought to pass. Had I friends about,
thy shaven crown would hardly save thy pate.
Beshrew me, if I know why I should spare it
myself ! '*

" 'Sbody and blood nor I !" joined in the un-
scrupulous dalesman, apt at a lead ; "^^'twas a
base unmannered gibe, were the knave twice
a friar.'*

The riding-rod of Sir John, and his ready
backer's lance butt were both menacingly agi-
tated, the latter most ostentatiously ; when
Amisia interposed with the one, and Raimond
with the other.

'^ Dearest father,'' said the young lady,
" Rage not on the holy clerk, remember his
tongue is licensed."

" Licensed with a vengeance,'' iterated Sir

OTTERBOURNE. 225

John, unpacified — "but not by me. Let him
cast his scorn on them that owe him tithe, I'll
bear it not, were he the mitred prince of
Durham."

" Yet if not for his caUing's sake, bear it for
mine," she urged. *' The father has been kind
to me in this hour of trouble.*"

The last argument took effect, and the knight
was soothed. Hugh, whose indignation was
merely reflected, did not of course prove diffi-
cult to quiet.

" Thou wert not wont, bold kinsman," said
his nephew, having drawn him aside, " wholly
to slight the favour of Mother Church. How
dost think it would fare with thee next shriving-
tide at Hexham, hadst such a sin to answer for?
By the rood ! absolution will halt longer o'er a
misused monk, than o'er the best of blood shed
on the border. Then bethink thee, man ; to
ride unshriven would leave thee small chance of
a good prey."

" Soothly not, boy," assented Hugh. " I
l3

226 OTTERBOURNE.

like to prick on a clear bill against purgatory,
as well as another. Od's heart ! I meant the
clerk no harm : only I was bound to make cause
wi' the old knight, when he gave the hint
for't.'^

" Ah, uncle I thou has large need to keep
well with the lords of English land ; for thou
makes t sad waste on that of their neigh-
bours.'*

" Ha, ha '/' laughed the other, with the
manner of a person agreeably complimented ;
" 'tis every man's duty to strip the enemy ; and
I do mine in a poor way. But see, this coil's
blown o'er."

" Well, sir friar !" said de Coupland, " I
overpass this scurril quip of thine ; but, prithee
keep in thy canker-sting ; for, by the pix ! I
will not brook it in my flesh ! And now, my
masters ! let us to the gear we had in hand !"

" Venerable sir knight," began Raimond —

" Tush, man ! sir knight, without the vene-
rable;" interrupted the old warrior testily;

OTTERBOURNE. 227

" Thou hail'st me as tho' Pd been a monkish
chronicler of gests, rather than an actor. Be-
cause thou art thyself a stripling, make me not
a doting Methusaleh."

The esquire bent in acknowledgment, and
amended his style.

" If I, sir knight, may presume to express an
opinion, it would be to this effect. At Alnwick,
or the Newcastle, our noble warden will, ere
this, have unfurled his banner. Thither the
force of the march will now be assembling ; —
Thither would Sir John despatch his personal
power; — most like, accompany it?"

" Ay, of a surety."

" Then thither, I would say ; 'twere best to
bend at once, and let thy vassals join on sum-
mons. At either of those places the gentle de-
moiselles can be bestowed in safety, and thou
thyself be nearest, where thy counsel and ex-
ample will avail.*'

" 'Slife ! thy advice sounds heedful!" ap-
proved the knight." But the towns lie some-

228 OTTERBOURNE.

what asunder; to which wouldst have us
turn V

" For a while, I recommend a medium
course. News we cannot fail soon to hear, and
thereby we may direct us. With your permis-
sion, I will take on me the guidance; for, if
you adopt this proceeding, 'twill afford me the
happiness of 'tending your steps throughout.
By so doing, I am also sure to please my lord
and leader." The last remark he made flatter-
ingly emphatic.

" That I am proud to believe ! Sir Harry is
not one to forget his father's friends ; ay, and
grandsires to boot. Why Amise, wench! he
hath been thy knight-bachelor at more than
one justing : thou hast not found him such a
niggard of his courtesy as to begrudge thee the
service of his squire ?"

" Oh, no!" answered Amisia, smihng; " the
gallant Percy begrudges us poor maidens
nought but his time ; the which he devotes to
a sterner mistress.'"^

OTTERBOURNE. 229

This allusion cost Raimond a pang. It was
not of jealousy; for, though aware his lord had
occasionally worn Amisia's colours, he knew
that it was but as a compliment in the prevail-
ing style of gallantly. What really touched
him, was the strong sense the fact awakened of
the lady's high pretensions, and the conse-
quent chasm that distanced and derided his
own hopes.

Meantime, the Tynedale leader had begun
to fidget. He observed that his followers were
getting impatient under the delay; and as many
of them were v/ild neighbours, over whom his
command was only one of sufferance, he did not
care to wear out their patience. Perceiving
now that de Coupland had come to a determi-
nation, he lost no time in gratifying desires
wherein he himself partook.

" It seems to me, worshipful sir," he pre-
ambled, " that my simple presence here is no
longer needed. Essoin me if I take my leave.
I would fain see my friends lay this haining safe

230 OTTER BOURNE.

in their homesteads, and then, mayhap, Td find
a few o' them willing to ride wi' me to the march-
gathering. Hugh of Hawden pricks rovingly
at whiles o'er moss and moor ; but he would be
loath to see the Scot wi' main force dare the
country without lending in to gi' them their
fairing,"

" Wightily spoken, Hughie!" answered Sir
John. " God F wi' ye, bold varlet ! and mind
that thou dost keep thy last word."

" Trust me, sir knight I" Sain your lady-
ships— sain thee, Raimond — and mind me, boy !
~— a kind wish to him at home. You, gaffer
Tyzack, I hear, are for poking 'mong the cran-
nies and curse-comforts o' the great town yon-
der. Ye're like most o"* the world, ever sitting
down where they 're least looked on. But God
speed ye in your own gait. Father, your benison
(aside to the friar). Think no worse o* me for
what's just agone — bless ye! 'twas only a
make, and no harm in't."

Having thus completed his round of adieus,

OTTERBOURNE. 231

the active dalesman led off his scourers and
their convoy, leaving our other friends, including
Spalding and the jerkin-maker, to pursue a dif-
ferent route. The two last were both bound for
the Newcastle. With the one it had been his
original goal of repair, and the other had been
influenced by a promise of provision held out to
him by Raimond.

The adherence of this pair, or rather trio, for
Mabel must not be forgot, gave some annoyance
to the worthy Bertram Mouboucher, who fore-
saw their probable association with himself in a
rear file. Noel he regarded as, at best, an am-
biguous character, and Linny, together with his
cumbrance — we beg pardon, his treasure — he
viewed with undisguised contempt. He was, in
fact, precisely one of those weak inferior people,
who, filling by accident some reputable post in
life, and fully conscious of no inherent patent,
are either tormented by an incessant jealousy of
encroachment, or labour to persuade themselves
that simple unfavoured men should be a distmct

232 OTTERBOURNE.

race of beings. The admitted great, at least,
assume gracefully, and their urbanity, however
frigid, prevents any resulting jar. But the ser-
vum pecus — the aping, strutting crowd of lower
imitators, are equally hateful in the manner
and the deed.

" Have with thee, then, sir squire," cried Sir
John, " we'll follow thy avizement, so e*en let
us be making. B'y'r iady ! — he pursued, after
a circular look and a shrug — we ride in choice
company ! A begging friar— a lame pauper —
and a trull ! "

*' A century over," rejoined the friar, " and
'twill be all the same who rides and who walks,
to-day — who threatens and who trembles— who
feasts and who fasts."

" Ay, indeed, that time will see us all out,"
said the knight, " which is a good reason why
we should spend as little o't as may be, on this
bare prospect."

From a laudable disposition to " inflict no
more of our tediousness" upon the reader than

OTTERBOURNE. 233

the better purposes of the legend doth require,
we hurry over the remaining incidents of the
closing day. It terminated in repose at an in-
considerable village southward of the Coquet.
The previous ride was wearisome enough to all,
except Amisia and Fameley, whose mutual en-
grossment palpably increased. His latent powers
of bland oratory have been already alluded to ;
hers was a manner eminently qualified to draw
them out, and her responses such as to furnish
them material whereon to expand. He could
not but perceive that he commanded a willing
and gratified ear, and we all know the stimulus
such a conviction supplies. Nay, he was three-
and-twenty, and pardonably persuaded of his
being neither a monster Falri, nor a foolish Da-
gonet, and, therefore, unapt to miss a warmer
inference. Nor did he ; but found it without
substance or promise. It told him only what,
under other auspices, might have been ; causing
additional regrets rather than forward antici-
pations.

234 OTTERBOTTRNE.

But what part took Hester all this while ? —
a passive. She had sunk into one of those fits
of apparent apathy not unusual with her. Dur-
ing the whole afternoon she had been reserved
and thoughtful ; betraying little interest in what
was passing near. De Coupland and his re-
tainer were too much engaged over the mount-
ings and musters — the suit and service, due and
called for by the invasion, to have any mind for
less important matters. As a consequence,
Amisia and the gallant esquire were little inter-
rupted in communings, which fixed a lasting
impression upon him, and seemed far from dis-
agreeable to her.

OTTERBOURNE. 235

CHAPTER XII.

" Two Northumberlands ; two braver men

Ne'er spurred their coursers to the trumpet's sound."

Shakspeare.

Upon an irregular green knoll, or cluster of
little hillocks rising at the south side of the
stilly-flowing river Alne, stands a proud and
extensive pile commanding the unwearied gaze
of every traveller whose occasions lead him
along the great road to Scotland. Renovated
and beautified as this spacious monument of
baronial splendour has latterly been by the taste
and mimificence of its noble owners, it still
presents a perfect idea of the original structure.

236 OTTERBOURNE.

Exteriorly and interiorly the establishment is
complete, and the whole preserves a more
striking picture of the mingled magnificence
and strength of a feudal fortress, than, save
perhaps Windsor, is elsewhere extant. The
modern improvements — truly such — have been
managed with a judgment so nice, that they
can scarcely be deemed other than a graceful
restoration. The dictators seem well to have
borne in mind, that in meddling with edifices of
this kind, what was said of Rome and Augustus
— " Luteam invenit, lateritiam relinquit,'' is not
the sort of praise to be too ardently coveted.

That delicious concatenation of round, square
and octagon towers, of solid bastion and slender
turret, of lofty donjon and simple curtain ram-
part, so highly picturesque to the eye of actual
view, is unluckily the most unapproachable by
the pen of description. From this cause, to
trace the external figure of Alnwick Castle,
would be futile ; for though we might be faith-
ful, we could not be graphic. Then, again, the

OTTERBOUKNE. 237

attempt would involve a double labour; once
to delineate its appearance, as shrouded behind
the zig-zag irregularities of the outer ballium,
and next, as compact and divested of these
envelopements. A general notion must suffice.

An embattled vi^all, the ballium just alluded
to, flanked and diversified by numerous towers
(some peels in themselves, others mere guerites)
encloses a large area, entered through a barbican
or gateway outwork. At the time of which we
write, a deep fosse was to be previously passed
by customary drawbridges, and the spikes of
the remorseless portcullis projected like the
teeth of a forest savage, in threatening readi-
ness, from the succeeding arch. Once within
this cincture of outer defences, the keep, or, in
other words, the body of the castle, breaks upon
the sight, boldly based upon a swell in the
middle of the great court thereby formed. The
beholder cannot fail to sustain grand impres-
sions. His object is a stately concretion (if the
expression may be allowed) of half-towers.

238 OTTERBOURNE.

arranged and joined in a circular chain. These
look massive and condensed, but link, really,
around a central space, affording a second and
hidden court-yard. Three distinct ports are to
be undergone, ere this interior court can be
attained. First, that of the barbican; next,
one in a wall, which, connecting the keep on
opposite sides with the ballium, divided the
great area into two parts, ultra and citra ; and,
lastly, that in the curtain of the keep itself
Each of these was fortified and furnished with
the means of protracting resistance ; besides,
the inner port being on the ultra side, made the
approach an exposed sweep. Hence it may be
conceived, that no ordinary perseverance would
be required to force a way into a fortress, in the
fruitless siege whereof one Scottish monarch
lost his liberty, and another his life.

The battlements possess a distinguishing fea-
ture, which should not escape notice. They
are every way surmounted by stone figures,
sculptured in the various acts of ancient

OTTERBOURNE. 239

defence; hurling down stones, darts, and the hke.
As seen from below, the effect is curious.
Above all, soars an exploratory turret, doubtless
of great use to the ancient garrison as an out-
look, and interesting now, from the fine and
varied stretch of country commanded. If it be
true, that

" noble houses

Have no such goodly prospects any way
As into their own land !"

the lords of Alnwick will there enjoy a peculiar
visual treat.

Alternately in this princely hold, and in the
almost equally imposing strength of Warkworth,
a few miles distant, the puissant Percies were
wont to keep feudal state, whilst upon their
northern domains. At the period to which this
story relates, it was the abiding-place of one of
the most celebrated barons of the name. The
head of this house has always been a historical
character; but he, of whom we are about to
speak, was prominently such.

240 OTTERBOURNE.

Henry, the sixth Lord de Percy, and first
Earl of Northumberland, won his earliest mar-
tial reputation under the third Edward ; this
last dignity, conferred on him at the coronation
of the reigning monarch, together with the baton
of Earl Marshal of England, were honours due
to him as well for past services, as in deference
to his power and possessions. The dominant chief,
— we may say prince, of the English marches,
he was the bulwark of the border, and the
scourge of the turbulent beyond Tweed. By
him the much contested town of Berwick had
been more than once wrested back from the
Scots, when surprise or treachery had tem-
porarily possessed them thereof.

Notwithstanding these claims to gratitude he
had latterly endured but scurvy treatment from
the court. A quarrel with his quondam friend,
the famous John of Gaunt, had made that po-
tent personage his enemy, and his influence
imbued the king's councils. Hence, the earl
was harassed with unworthy suspicions, and his

OTTERBOURNE. 241

patriotism impeached by a charge to which ob-
vious facts gave a stultifying refutation. If from
this he experienced some disgust, and afterwards
showed it in action, by the part he took in what
Fordun terms " the conspiracy of the three Hen-
ries," there is no matter of wonder ; though cer-
tainly it is a little remarkable, that the specific
result should have been to place the crown upon
the head of his old abuser's son.

This great nobleman was a man of strong
resolutions and ambitious designs — daring in
conception, but wary in act. He is not to be
confounded amidst the herd of mere warring
peers, with whom the age abounded ; being dis-
tinguished by a reasoning, inquiring mind, and
an expanded liberality of sentiment, far from ge-
neral . Both qualities are approved in his manly
support of Wickliffe and his principles. For,
without the first, he would never have seen their
justice, and without the second, never have
dared to risk the consequence*; of open patronage.
Moral courage is incomparably more to be lauded

VOL. I. M

242 OTTERBOURNE.

than that embodied in the animal impulses of
fight; inasmuch as the latter is an attribute
common to the brute, and wherein man seems
the more to partake the nearer he is unto it
allied. Our earl was, however, supereminently
valiant ; so, to such degree, that we find him in
song and legend mostly denominated the " stout"
Northumberland.

But, in martial renown, the head of the Per-
cies had a sharer, and even a surpasser, of whom
he nevertheless felt no envy : —

" Sic magna cedit titulis Agamemnonis Atreus,
Egeo sic Theseus, sic Pelea vincit Achilles."

This was his eldest son, the celebrated Hot-
spur : of whose commanding qualities he was
most justly proud. These he had already
begun to yield that associated exercise, which
enabled him, " being in no debt to years," to
lead

" ancient lords and reverend hishops on

To bloody battles and to bruising arms."

OTTERBOURNE. 243

It is our business now to usher the reader into
the ultra-division of the castle-base court, into
which the inferior domestics and ordinary re-
tainers were forbidden to intrude. There, towards
the evening of a fine summer's day, pacing to
and fro under the shade of the ballium, walked
two individuals of marked mien and lofty car-
riage. Both were richly clad; — their tunics
furred and embroidered; — gold chains round
their necks; — and wearing embossed girdles,
from which depended dudgeon daggers richly
chased and jewelled. Yet did these investments
rather seem the accidents of rank than indicative
of much regard for externals in their wearers.
They were of different ages : the one being past
his meridian, the other, only approaching it. The
elder was an extremely square-chested, solidly
built personage, with a complexion that having
once been fair and florid, had afterwards settled
into a universal ruddy brown. This continued ;
except that the colour was now a little broken
by the visible meanderings of minute veins.

m2

244 OTTERBOVRNE.

His upper lip, and all the lower part of his face^
was covered by a thick but grizzly beard, close
trimmed ; which, together with the keen flashing
survey of his eye, gave a stern awe-begetting
expression to a physiognomy otherwise neither
harsh nor repelling. On his head he wore a cap
of Genoa velvet, ornamented with goldsmith's
work, and coning inartificially at the crown,
after a fashion more suited to the taste of his
day than ours.

The younger peripatetic, from the strong
family likeness prevailing betwixt himself and
companion, might at once be pronounced his
son. He had the same embrowned rubor of
teint — the same large, unblenching blue orbs, —
and a frame, which, if not so massive, was even
more muscular and sinewy. His step, firm and
elastic, seemed at each remove to spurn the
humble earth beneath. In his lineaments, he
was handsome ; though they were irregular
and strongly defined; suggesting an energetic
temperament. A fringe of short, curling dark

OTTERBOURNE. 245

hair crept from cheek to cheek, slightly tufting
the chin, and adding the last touch of manhood
to a countenance peculiarly manly.

These were the Earl of Northumberland and
Sir Henry Percy.

'* How long is't, Harry," demanded the earl,
as they sauntered, enjoying the freshness of the
hour, " since that designer Dunbar — he of
March, quitted this country with his espial
train?"

*' His safeconduct expired a little month
ago," replied Sir Henry ; " and he made home-
ward on the instant : knowing full well I would
not have spared his earlship one moment longer.
Doubtless he is now schooling this Aberdeen
convocation of which we hear so much. He
wears a wily head ; and, my warrant on*t ! has
not traversed our plains without conning a task
for timely repetition."

'^ Like enough — nay, in him, a surety. Nei-
ther he nor his bull-brained brother Moray,

246 OTTERBOURNE.

have forgot the fair of Roxburgh, and what
grew therefrom."

" Nor have I — as they shall yet learn/'
ejaculated Sir Henry.

" Nay, methinks we cleared hands with them
on that lay — gave them a breakfast their sto-
machs have not yet digested.'*

" I wish their sour bigg was stronger, or
that they had a better potable!"

"Why that, Hal?"

" Um ! — then, perchance, a double morning-
draught might give them heart to spell their
spleen within my hearing — that's all."

" They had rather write it on our lands, boy,
and after, leave us to read at leisure. If Fm
not much misminded, the prank will be essayed
anon. A malison on the ill-jointed policy, that
could admit such wild foxes to burrow in
English warrens— to haunt our barn-yards,
and mark the inlets and seasons fitting future
depredation I Oh, Jesu ! that a noble realm

OTTERBOURNE. 247

like this should be the toy — the plaything of
a popinjay and his galliards ! 'Tis well all
that own the blood of Plantagenet are not
alike,* or the saucy Scot might ride rampant
to the gates of York, and ne'er be stayed."

" Pity he were not set aside for a more legi-
timate scion of the house," observed Hotspur,
carelessly, yet pithily.

" Legitimate ! — how mean ye ? His descent
and title may not be questioned."

" They may. Your true bastard is he whose
life disgraces his name. I wot so does that
of this Plantagenet." t^*'*^

" Tush ! you talk idly," rejoined the earl,
in a tone conveying little of reproof, though
something of impatience. " What were the
last advices from the border ? Whoever rules
Hal, to England we will be true."

" As the sun to his rising hour, come cloud,
come tempest ! But for thy quest — I hear nought

* The mother of the Earl, was Mary Plantagenet; grand-
daughter to King Henry the Third.

248 OTTERBOURNE.

of active mischief; much that betokens thought
on't. The Captain of Jedburgh reports me,
that his communications are watched — that his
men cannot leave the fortress without danger
of being cut off. This would seem intended,
at once to keep him hoodwinked, and to antici-
pate his vigilance, should the hood chance to
slip. Yesterday, I despatched my esquire, young
Faraeley, and others, to push active observa-
tion ! Albeit, I scarcely believe they will at-
tempt an inroad, when they know the Percy is
at home. Yon foxes you but now denounced,
will warn their fellows to beware the watch-
dog— the Brabant lion."

The concluding Thrasonics must not be inter-
preted to the disparagement of Sir Henry's
modesty : they breathed merely one of those
light, half-meant sallies continually indulged
between intimates, and generally passing un-
taxed. "As to that," observed the sire, in
rejoinder, "it may not prove a certain staff to
lean on — your Scot is not lacking in hardihood.

OTTERBOURNE. *249

Then, 'tis said, the Douglas covets to cross
iances with thee personally ; and he himself can
raise a pretty power."

*^ The Douglas is a proper knight ; but were
he twice the same, he shall find me prompt to
shock him, or any Scot that dares this march
while Harry Percy is its intrusted conser-
vator."

" I doubt it not, Hal," said the earl, glancing
complacently at the person of his son, " thou
hast given such assurance of thy quality as
may stand for so much, I am glad, however,
thou hast taken good precautions. He who is
fain to venture all on blows, may make a stout
man-at-arms, but hardly be a fitting leader.
And now it minds me, thou couldst not have
selected a more likely emissary than that same
Farneley. Apt and courageous — he hath parts
that spring beyond his humble breeding."

" I know it, father, and have thence preferred
him, to the complaint of others better graced in
birth.''

m3

250 OTTERBOUENE.

" Right, Harry ! Choose your wife by her
blood — your friend by his honour — but in him
you would employ, seek wit and capability.""

" Nay, I hold this youth e'en at a higher rate.
An oak is an oak, let it root where it may. I
do put faith in blood, but 'tis as I do in a
friend's promise — equally to be recalled upon
fail of action-proof. On the other hand, where
I discover all I can expect in man, full grown
and palpable, I am content. I see the flower —
the effect — the perfect thing itself: what need
I then care about the accessories ; — the mixture
— the mode of production. I consider a good
lineage as a good soil ; but I will neither offend
my taste with sour fruit therefrom, nor reject
sweet because raised upon a moor."

"Well said, boy; tho' somewhat more in
Ralph's way than I expected from thee. There
is no monopoly of merit, and therefore should
be none of distinction. Dolts and drivellers
may dread competitors in honour : not so, I
firmly trust, the children of our house. Nathe-

OTTERBOURNE. 251

less, whilst I approve thy patronage of this
tried young man, I may not forget that the com-
monage abounds with froth-pated, over-saucy
knaves, who, void of equal deserts, await but
like encouragement to jostle us at board, and
hail us on the highway. These have lungs, but
not brains — thewes and sinews, but not generous
governance: they would bellow amidst our
harmony, and think it song — riot in our fields, and
deem it gentlei disport. Such, and they are many,
it were unmeet to license. They must be ruled,
like our steeds, by pressure of the bit, and that
we can best employ by keeping steadfast in the
saddle."

Sir Henry made no reply, doubtless well satis-
fied with his father's views. Enlightened,
according to their day, both were still imbued
with the established doctrines of feudal supe-
riority ; and could not be expected to undervalue
by implication their high strein, flowing
direct from Mainfred and the royal line of
Brabant.

252 OTTERBOURNE.

A pause of a few minutes succeeded, during
which they quietly pursued their retrogressive
walk.

"When my Lord Dunbar was in England, he
sojourned, I believe, some time at Raby/'
propounded the earl, resuming, "did he
not?"

" He did, my lord," confirmed the son, with a
slight shrug.

*' Truly, my brother-in-law is most exemplary
in his hospitable extensions ! Friend, stranger,
— and even foe, when way-cast — have their
several claims; but this lengthened sojourning,
this visit on solicitation, takes an aspect less
freely to be lauded, in the latter case. Guess
ye Dunbar's commendation to this friendly
harbourage?"

" r faith, I know of none, saving it were
his being your lordship's enemy. 'Tis no news
to tell thee of the Neville**s jealousy."

*' Nor of its schemes to thwart me ,* yet as ai
English noble — a baron of the east-march,

OTTERBOURNE. 253

he ought not to have tolerated such com-
pany."

" Pooh ! he is not thin-skinned. Some men,
now, could see the thing amiss. There was the
hot old knight of Coupland, as I hear, broke ofF
a visit to Raby when he heard who were to be
his board-mates."

" Ah ! old king-taker ! — 'twas like him. He
will yield scant courtesy to the best Scot that
ere was belted. That spirit, in the main, can-
not be commended, tho' here I do confess Pm
glad 'twas shown. By the way, De Coupland
has a fair daughter, and something was bruited
of an alliance in that quarter. Is it true ?

" Mayhap. I wot not of it."

" Why, now I remember, thou thyself didst
once, in thy way, admire the demoiselle. Per-
adventure, this rumour doth not please thee.
Ah, Hal ! thou art ever too remiss in thy devo-
tions— -too abrupt in manner— too unvarnish-
ing in speech, to trap the hearts, or rather, to
sway the caprice of beauteous dames/*

254 OTTERBOURNE.

" I will take my revenge, then, by ruling the
moods of their lords and more favoured suitors,"
returned Sir Henry. Touching the fair De
Coupland, she is a fine frank-hearted wench,
and deserves to match with the best of our
chivalry."

" To wit, with Harry Percy?"
" Ay, or his better — when he is found."
" You think her charms transcendent still —
hegh?"

" You are curious, my lord," said Hotspur,
his quick temper taking fire at the idea of being
put to question, even by his sire, and upon a
subject from which he had no actual cause to
wince.

" Perhaps I am. Is there ought marvellous
in such curiosity ? Where maids have dazzling
brows gallants will gaze, and fathers will
inquire. But, no matter. This only wakes,
not binds, my thoughts ; their cast is forward.
A hint, Hal, ere I drop. The son of Northum-
berland may ally himself to the throne itself.

OTTERBOURNE. 255

The splendour of our name has not yet filled its
sphere ; be thou the means of giving it ex-
pansion."

" I have tried, father, already/'

" And done well. In thy bent, thou need'st
no prompting. In what I would move to thee,
thou'rt not so apt. Ha! what brings thy
brother, striding in haste. He looks brim o'er
with news."

Both immediately stayed their steps, and
awaited the approach of a gallant-looking youth,
of lighter proportions and softer mien than Hot-
spur. He wore a close riding-cassock of fine
Flanders cloth, and his buskins had more of
the fashionable peak than either of his relatives.
A spreading summer cap and slender spurs,
indicated his recent return from a peaceful ex-
cursion. Behind him toiled, with unsteady
steps, a dismounted hobyler, flushed and dis-
ordered, as much perhaps by being conducted
into such high presence, as by a hurried and
anxious previous ride.

256 OTTERBOURNE.

Even before the younger Percy had reached i
fair speaking distance, his mental charge sough-
vent in utterance.

" My lord — brother,"''' he cried. " Here's
call for harness — matter to end your shady
walk. In fine, there's a mighty raid upon the
march."

" Take breath, good Ralph," said Hotspur.
" 'Tis not to the young dames at Mitford, that
you bring the tidings. I, for one give you
gramercy for tale of coming disport. To-morrow
vs^e'U to't merrily, and chase the reivers home
again. I hope they'll stay so long !"

" Brother, this is no moonlight foray — no
course of common snatchers. The Douglas,
Dunbar, and I knov^^ not what other chiefs, are
out. Their force is large in men-at-arms, and
all bespeaks some main intendment. Judge by
this man's report."

^* Ha — soh !" ejaculated Hotspur, now kind-
ling into flame. '' The bloody heart unfurled,
and kissing English air ! stalworth lances too.

OTTERBOURNE. 257

as well as rascaille border scourers ! By St-
Oswin ! this promises us employment !"

" Peace awhile, pray P' said the earl, assum-
ing the stately command that became his
station. " Let me examine this fellow, and
then proceed on sound direction."

Before, however, he had time to ask more
than a few questions, a retainer appeared, to an-
nounce the arrival of other posts, and a general
stirrage could be perceived in the castle. On
this, the earl summoned his sons to follow him
to the great hall ; there to take affairs into ma-
ture consideration, upon full intelligence.

We will not stay to remark upon the lofty
portal and fine octagon towers, which, from this
division of the base court, give admission to
the inner ward of the great keep ; neither will
we linger in our passage through that ward ;
but hurry on into the spacious hall, where the
earl now put forth all the attributes of a pow-
erful feudatory. Elevated on his baronial state,
as it was termed, and having his noble sons on
either hand, he received from several jaded

258 OTTERBOURNE.

messengers their divers relations. His seneschal,
constable, and chamberlains, all knights of
family, stood near ; and behind, " Northumber-
land,'* the pursuivant of the household, in his
gaudy tabard, shevi^ed himself at his post.
Esquires and pages crowded round ; and fraught
vi^ith curious interest, pressed closer on their
master's counsels than was quite compatible
with decorum. From the same cause, the lower
hall exhibited a throng of eager men-at-arms,
many of whom ventured to edge forward, in the
hope of catching some droppings of information.
Other domestics, and even the retained min-
strels, though well aware this was no occasion
for the display of the joyeuse science, mingled
among the whispering groups ; the long gowns
and smooth tonsures of the latter serving to
contrast with the bright jacks and rough polls
(of course bared) appertaining to the martial
menye. On every arm, except those of knightly
owners, ghnted the silver crescent, the badge
of their common lord.

'' And say'st thou the tower of Corsinside

OTTERBOURNE. 259

has been ta'en and sacked?" demanded the
earl, examining a courier m continuation.

" Ay, my lord. I saw it smoking from the
top of Ottercaps."

" De Coupland and his family were there at
the time, 'tis understood. Is it known what has
befallen them?"

None could answer directly, but the opinion
ran something near what the reader knows to
have been the truth.

"The spoilers then marched southwards?"
pursued the earl.

" Not thence, my lord, they first came down
east as far as Rothely crag," said one informant.
" And afterwards turned off/* added another,
" bending down upon the fords of Tyne, as if
they intended falling on the bishopric" (meaning
the county of Durham).

" Then the good folks of the Newcastle have

barred their gates betimes," observed the earl,

" that's well. I marvel that, with such a force,

the Scots have passed the town ; — if so it prove."

" Your lordship forgets there are rich pastures

260 OTTERBOURNE.

and many an open hall in Weardale," remarked
an experienced knight of the household, " these
invaders care not to waste dear time before a
wall-girt town."

" Yet we are playing with that thing so dear,
sir constable," said the young lord warden,
who had been pressing his own course of inter-
rogatories among the harbingers. " Instant or-
der must be taken. My lord," addressing his
father, I am bound to ask your voice in this."
The earl, after eliciting furtherinformation,mused
a moment before he gave the solicited opinion.
" Yes," he resumed, assenting, as it were, to
his own thou2:ht: — " 'tis their return we must
provide for."

" Why not follow on their heels ? " exclaimed
Hotspur, warmly. " If they have abused De
Coupland, I'll make it a deadly feud."

" Harry," said the earl, gravely, " you are th(

king's warden-general in the marches, and must

keep ward for the preservation of the whole. How

that can best be done is now to be considered."

" By pursuing the foemen to the death," re-

OTTEKBOURNE. 261

joined Hotspur, warmly, " there is no room to
pause on that."

" No — but some on the means. Have you
present power to meet the force we're advertised
of? — ril answer for you — no."

" The marchmen are not losels," quick re-
joined Sir Henry, " I'll forward, and take up
strength upon the way."

" Thou shalt forward, and thou slialt so ga-
ther force ; but list to what account. The good
town of the Newcastle is without garrison, and
exposed, a rich prize, to these ravagers. It must
be secured, or a heavy disgrace falls on us.
Recollect, the surprise of one town formerly
cost me dear. This is my counsel. You, Harry,
and you, Ralph, repair instantly to that place,
and take charge of its defence. If then and
there you gather spears and bows enough, fall
out in St. George's name. Meantime, I will
remain here^. and make a levy from Glendale
and the shires,* either to back ye, or cut off these

* The northernmost districts of the English east march :
Bambrough, Norham, and Island-s/iires.

262 OTTERBOURNE.

Scots in their retreat. Thus will we beset this
Douglas ; and with one Percy before, and an-
other behind, he shall deeply rue the Lammas-
tide, that ere he thought to prank it in North-
umberland."

A chorus of approval followed from the
knightly functionaries in attendance.

" You shall be obeyed, father ; and straight-
way," replied Sir Henry, " so far I curb in my
impatient wishes. Ho, there ! Knayton — Sal-
vayn — my esquires ! — ^To horse, ye that are of
my following ! To horse and muster ! — we're
away within the hour. Brother Ralph, be
stirring ! ''

So saying, he hurried to arm, and was imi-
tated by his brother. *

The shrill peal of clarions anon interpreted
this summons to the ears of distant loiterers^
and, incontinently, the courts of the castle
echoed with the tramp of hoofs and clink of
arms. In a brief space after, the two Percies,
leading a choice band of lances, issued from the
gates, and took the road towards the Newcastle.

OTTERBOURNE. 263

CHAPTER XIII.

A new fellow

A mere upstart that has no house — no coat.
No ensigns of a family.
Fulvia. He has virtue.

Sempronia. Marry ! virtue ! where there is no blood 'tis vice,
And^ in him, sauciness."

Catiline, Ben Jonson.

After a night's repose, Sir John de Coup-
land, and the oddly-assorted coterie congre-
gated with him, again committed themselves to
the dominion of the Viales. As they proceeded,
information on every hand transpired, which
finally determined them to make the Newcastle
their resort. The Scottish army, they were
assured, had marched on towards Durham,
and consequently left the country open to their
wishes. Something, too, they heard of the

264 OTTERBOURNE.

young Lord Warden's movements, which had a
still more effectual influence. As the journey,
though slowj and occupying nearly the whole
of the day, presents no feature, save the
increasing sympathy that grew betwixt a certain
esquire and demoiselle ; and as that displayed
itself pretty much in the way it ever has, does,
and will do, we decline detaining the reader
upon the road.

Twilight had given objects a dim and shadowy
outline, when the party arrived within sight of
the ancient town, the busy hum from which,
borne upon the stilly air of the evening, at the
same time reached them. In this early century
it was a considerable place, and though not
boasting, as now, the dignity of being a county
in itself, had the nucleus of its present wealthy
corporation embodied in a mayor and four
bailiffs. The facilities for commerce, which
a fine navigable river, and no great distance
from the sea, afford, had already given a
trading character to the inhabitants, but not in

OTTERBOURNE. 265

a pre-eminent degree. Circumstances of a very
opposite nature tended rather to divert than
encourage the disposition, which, nevertheless,
made gradual w^ay. Strangely enough, these
operated at once by hardening and softening
manners. As thus : the exposed situation of the
place, and its importance as a fortified border-
town, naturally familiarized the burgesses with
the duties of watch and ward, and thence begat
in many something of martial roughness and
adventure; whilst again, the unusual number
of religious houses located in the bounds,
tmged a large body of dependants with con-
trary habits. Moreover, a multitude of wild,
broken men, from both sides of the frontier,
resorted hither, betwixt whom and the estab-
lished townspeople no very amicable under-
standing prevailed. As it was, a dense and
mixed population crowded within the walls.
These same, duly embattled, and flanked by fre-
quent towers, and more frequent gwenVes, formed
a complete girdle of defences, amounting to an

VOL. I. N

266 OTTERBOURNE.

almost perfect fortification against anything
short of a prolonged siege. Beyond was a
sufficient graff or moat. Stately gate-houses,
strongly defended, and covered by advanced
barriers, opened passage to and from the dif-
ferent quarters of the tovv^n.

To one of these, known by the name of the
Pilgrim's Gate, (from the numerous wayfarers
of that class who passed through it in resort to
a celebrated shrine in the vicinity, that of Our
Lady of Jesu-mount) our friends betook them-
selves. The usual hour of closing was past,
but owing to the watchfulness in which the
warders were kept by events without, and the
necessity that existed for admitting, from time
to time, the straggling squads of vassal soldiery
gathering in from the country, the travellers
had not long to await ingress. The presence of
Farneley, who was know^n to the burghers on
duty, anticipated any demur.

As they progressed down the antiquated
thoroughfare known as the Pilgrim's Street,

OTTERBOURNE. 267

they found it lined with loiterers ; not, accord-
ing to wont, with pale faces and in frieze gowns,
but in steel coats and of bluff sun-burnt aspect.
The dark figures of some itinerants were cer-
tainly here and there visible, but in no pro-
portion to the others. Every thing wore the
appearance of what we will venture to denomi-
nate, commotion in repose. More than ordi-
nary light streamed from most casements, and
sounds issued from many houses betokening
the entertainment of guests.

De Coupland^'s probable intention had been to
abide, for the night at least, in one of the
hostelries, of which the best were, from obvious
causes, in the Pilgrim's Street ; but the eligibi-
lity of this design he now saw reason to doubt.
" By my fay ! Bertram," he observed, to his an-
cient follower, " we'll find scant lodging-room at
the hostels, and it so late ! To thou and I,the being
a whit jostled will make little matter, but these
tenderlings may take it somewhat less happily."
" Of a truth, my lord," answered Moubou-
N 2

268 OTTERBOURNE.

cher, " it is not well to think of. Wherefore,
do'st not bemind thee that thy noble friend, my
Lord Neville, hath a mansion here ? Let us
thither, and make demand of hospitality. I wot
'twill be right gladly accorded."

" Questionless. — Nor had I forgotten the fact,
good Bertram. But I know his lordship to be
himself elsewhere, and doubt me whether any
of his house be now in residence."

" Suppose it, sir; you can still command re-
ception ; or at any rate, procure apartments for
the young dames."

" Why, aye ! that indeed may be essayed/'
approved the knight. " Amise, child ! thou
canst sleep out of thy father's hearing for a night
or two, when thy bower is under the roof of
the noble Neville. — Hey, canst thou not?"

" How means my father?" demanded the
demoiselle.

Sir John explained. A look of meaning then
passed betwixt Amisia and her friend, which
was followed by a brief whisper.

OTTERBOURNE. 269

" Come, wench, answer me ;" demanded the
old banneret : then, putting on a sagacious face
he added, " What ! thou would'st learn if thy
looks have been proof against the day's fatigues,
and if thy head-tire will bear a gallant's scru-
tiny ? — Aha ! rogue, I see the way thy thoughts
run."

There was also a silent observer, who fancied
he could divine the turn of the maiden's thouo-hts;
but who was far from doing it with the same
good-humoured satisfaction. We need not name
him.

" Indeed, dearest father," commenced Amisia,
with more of hesitation than the occasion seemed
to call for, "you misjudge my pause. Tisthat
I fear— or rather I dislike '"' she faltered.

" Amise doubts the propriety of resorting
thither in such fashion," said Hester, coming to
her friend's aid, " that is the simple truth
of all."

*' Ha I no fear of thy allowing us to lack a

270 OTTERBOURNE.

downright tale/' rejoined Sir John. " But say,
wherefore, sweetheart ?"

" If Sir John had been as shrewd a squire of
dames, as he has been a burly one at arms, he
had not needed to have asked," replied Hester.
" Lend me thine ear, and I will school thee, sir."

With this she drew closer to the knight, and
hinted some objections which were unheard by
the rest.

" Silly wench !" he muttered, after listening
with a half-smile. " And yet, after all, de Coup-
land's heiress should not seem to go a-marketing !
What then's to be done ?"

At this moment Raimond, whom a variety of
feelings had restrained, claimed attention, and
proffered the whole party an asylum at the abode
of his father.

" We have chambers enow," he subjoined,
" and I venture to pronounce that Miles Farne-
ley's means to grace, will not fall far short of his
pleasure in acknowledging, such honourable

OTTERBOURNE. 271

guests. I had this in thought before, but waited
acquaintance with your arrangements ere I should
intrude the proposal. If I have now been too
bold "

" Whew !" interrupted Sir John. " Hold !
and do not try to fool us. O' my stars ! thou
art mighty audacious — vastly presuming, to
threaten hungry folks with food, and tired ones
with shelter ! On, on, sir squire, we'll to thy
haven. Gramercy for the will on't."

The affair thus settled, they resumed their
slow and cautious passage down the ill-paved
thoroughfare.

" By the way,*' observed the knight, ad-
dressing Raimond as they rode together, " did
I not hear yon pricker of Hawden call thee
nephew?"

" You did, sir knight," was the desperately
wrung-out reply.

'* And thy sire, sir squire, is — ?"

" An hoastman of the town here."

'< Um I— Farneley.— What, the rich bailiff?"

272 OTTERBOURNE.

" A bailiff; and passing well in worldly ac-
quisitions/*

" The first instance I ever heard of a dale-
born man becoming a merchant and a burgess I""
exclaimed de Coupland, with the air of one
who has met a marvel. " How came it about^
good squire ; the townsmen, confound them for
a few pennyfee'd scroyles ! were wont to have
an ill eye to such ?"

It may be fairly imagined, that the jet of the
old knight's queries put Raimond on the rack ;
and tried him the more, that he was wise enough
to know the policy of meeting them with ap-
parent indifference.

" My father," said he, " left the dales young.
For the place he now holds in the estimation of
his neighbours, I never heard that he was in-
debted to ought, save his ovm probity and per-
severance."

** That is to say, he stuck to his booth, and
never trimmed his scale-beam."

" It is to say, sir knight, that he has done his

OTTERBOURNE. 273

tluty as a good liegeman, a good citizen, and a
good master."

" Well," ejaculated Sir John, who had all
a proud baron's contempt for ignoble traders,
" that praise be to him ! Such men are useful*
Peradventure, sir squire, thou hadst done as
well to have followed his life and example."

" He had done best," muttered Spalding,
who was an overhearer.

" Aye, truly, as things have been cast," re-
newed the knight, led on by the friar's com-
mentary, the drift of which he entirely mis-
took.

Sore as Raimond habitually felt upon this
subject, so thoughtlessly blunt a remark would at
any time have made him wince painfully ; but,
uttered in Amisia's hearing, the torture equalled
a dip in Phlegethon. We dare not attempt to
analyze his feelings, lest we become too Jine for
simple comprehensions. He preserved a stately
silence.

Sir John, who had spoken with all the single-
n3

274 OTTERB0UR?IE.

mindedness of a thick-witted dignitary address-
ing an inferior he deems unentitled to possess
nice sensibihties, really meant nothing offen-
sive. Afterwards, however, either attacked by
that peculiar intuition which, in such cases, is
felt by the dullest of mortals ; or, as we have
some reason to believe, advertized by a moni-
tary tap from the riding-rod of his daughter,
he saw that he had done amiss. Thence, he
next endeavoured to explain away, and, as in-
variably happens, floundered the worse.

" Essoin my freedom, fair sir squire!" he
apologized ; " 'twas not thy personal gifts I
glanced at — them I have seen cause to approve.
It did but cross me, how little thy chance kin-
dred did like to help a career of chivalry."

** They have already helped him to all that
kindred can," interposed Father Noel, dog-
matically.

" Ho ! thy tongue again !" cried de Coup-
land, not sorry to seize on a diversion ; " Me-
thought, sir gownsman, thou hadst ta'en mind

OTtERBOURNE. 275

to confine thy wisdom to the lame disciple thou
hast newly found. Prithee make plain thy saw
to us — 'tis somewhat dark."

" I say, then,'* complied Noel, " the pro-
genitors of this youth have transmitted to him
every attribute essential to a warrior. They
have helped him to active limbs, firm nerves,
and quick eyes. I wot not what else he
lacks at their hands to drive a trade of
blows."

This did not seem exactly orthodox to Sir
John; but, now awakened to consciousness
with regard to the young esquire, he did not
care to publish his disagreement. Hester, how-
ever, at no time repressed by circumstances, was
not equally forbearing.

" You have left out the heart. Sir Friar,"
said she, " the seat of power whence all these
baser accessories derive impulse and direction."

" Have not all men hearts ?" demanded
Spalding, drily,

" Yes ! But most do lack the generous blood

276 otterbourNE.

that gives them energy. To stoop to thine own
apparent mode of reasoning — how do we choose
our gallant steeds — our hawks — our hounds ? —
why, by their blood and breeding, which we
never find deceptive but when tainted."

" You favour me, lady, by the allusion," said
the friar, " animal qualities alone — pith — swift-
ness— and the like, are what we seek and prize
in these creatures! Such we do find inherited,
as well as the reverse defaults. But to extend
this kind of comparative to men, would go nigh
to transfer gentility to the sturdy, deep-breathed
serfs who till the parent soil. If thy argument
rests there, "'tis crushed, indeed."

More might have followed, but immediate
concerns intervened.

They had, by this time arrived at a part of
the street, where, after leading past an ancient
church, it terminates by an abrupt wheel into a
steep narrow way, descending to the lower
town. Down this they were about to turn,
when they perceived it filled with a blaze of

OtTERBOURNE. 277

light, and heard the clamours of a noisy multi-
tude advancing upwards. The downward way,
even if clear of obstacles, promised to be awk-
ward and perilous to horse passengers, and
thence was suggested the prudence of awaiting
the issue of the tumult. With that view, they
reined up as close as possible to the church wall,
leaving sufficient space for the throng to pass,
should it, as seemed probable, be necessary. It
proved a proper precaution, for the increasing
glare and swell of sound proclaimed gradual
approach ; and a rabble of boys, invariably the
unhired harbingers of a more imposing train,
began to stream into sight. The notes of pipe
and tabor became also distinguishable, and en-
abled the young esquire to anticipate the nature
of the coming procession. It consisted, in fact,
of a large body of the townsfolk, engaged in the
holiday ceremony of setting the " midsummer
watch ;" of which they formed the portion called
the marching rounds.

First came a group of morris-dancers, anticly

278 OTTERBOURNE.

habited, and playing gambols as they proceeded.
Next followed the brethren of one of the borough
guilds bearing partizans ; and after, constables
and other officials, in purple jornets. A long
train of cresset bearers succeeded, illuminating
the street, and forming the principal feature of
the occasion. Jocularity and freakish humour
prevailed over all, and was manifested by re-
curring bursts of jolly laughter, and an incessant
fire of quips and jests directed at the quiet folks
who peeped forth from their doors and windows.
Of these, our travellers had to endure a share,
but in other respects the merry mob moved on
without giving them peraianent annoyance.

The custom under observation, has long fallen
into desuetude, together with most of the simple
and heartier usages of our ancestors. We are
not, in general, laudatores temporis acti, nor do
we uphold this special example ; but we cer-
tainly do regret that the warm attachment
shewn in influential quarters to cumbrous and
anomalous legacies of antiquity, should not

otterbouhne. 279

have been extended to the few little carnivalg
which once helped to relieve the monotony of a
humble and laborious life.

Towards the close of the procession, mounted
on a sleek nag, covered with a footcloth, rode
a personage, whose consequential air and fre-
quently elevated wand, announced the claimant
of worship. He was a man below the ordinary
stature ; so much, as to be barely rescued from
insignificance by a tendency to corpulence, and
a full rubicund frontispiece. A voluminous hood
and flowing robe of crimson samite, guarded
with sables, enshrined his dignity; also con-
tributing to give him bulk and importance.
His features were for the most part trained into
a cast of decorous gravity ; but now and then,
that would change into a sort of affected
swagger, which seemed intended to raise an
opinion that the party was no timorous home-
bred spirit. This, in particular, was exhibited
when the sallies of a knot of young cavaliers,
who pranced and frolicked around him, required

280 OTTERBOURNE.

some rejoinder. From the dress and manner of
the latter, it was easy to see that they were not
of the class of burgesses ; but, probably, strip-
lings of gentle connexion, who sought amuse-
ment in attending the rounds.

On coming opposite to where our friends
stood, this civic authority reined up his palfrey,
and bestowed on them a scrutinizing look, as if
he weighed in his mind whether it were not his
duty as a careful magistrate to take some
further note of them. In this act, he was
imitated by his free circle of gallants; they
being attracted by the presence of two females
like Amisia and Hester.

The stoppage was immediately followed by a
recognition, and affectionate greeting, between
the functionary and Raimond Fameley. The
relation in which they stood will be readily
surmised.

" Wend on, wend on, friends,'' cried the
bailiif, waving his wand in signal. " I've got
other gear to look to here. Master Wardell^

OTTERBOURNE. 281

take thou my place, and see that the roisterers
be duly governed ; giving the while, fair license
to honest game. When the round is finished,
spare not the cakes and ale. Gentle gallants !
(turning to the circle of cavaliers) I give ye
thanks for sportive company, and wish ye good
e'en. Let me redd ye not to over- weary your-
selves in this night's play : there may be both
livelier and deadlier to-morrow, I wot, wherein
ye'U want all your pith."

Having thus thrown off his charge of office,
Master Miles Farneley returned to the felicita-
tions he had interrupted for that purpose.

*' Raimond — my boy — ^my life's hope!" he
exclaimed, " the sight of thee puts joy into my
heart; and so it will into another's, as I need
not assure thee. Ah ! I see what thou would 'st
ask — she is well — thy mother's only grief springs
from thy absence. Haste with me and end it.'"

" Stay, father"— said Raimond, directing at-
tention to his party — " Here are worshipful
strangers who require our cares."

282 OTTERBOURNE.

" Oh ! I am forgetful ! — 'tis in the delight of
seeing thee safe after the ill rumours we've been
frighted with. Commend me to thy company,
and bid them make my house their own."

" I have done it already."

" I'm the better pleased ; for thereby didst
thou approve thy father."

'* Understand then, sir, that it is the baron of
Coupland, and the gracious demoiselles of his
family, who have consented so far to honour

you."

Whilst the bailiff bowed long and low to this
announcement, he was forestalled in the set
phrase of welcome he meditated, by the interpo-
sition of one of those sprigs of quality before
noticed, who, pertinaciously loitering behind
the rest, had also been an auditor. This was. a
tall, handsome youth, of exterior bespeaking
high rank, and having the confident air that
avowed a superabundant sense of it. He was
bravely attired in a pounced and broidered body-
dress of Florentine silk, with wide poke sleeves.

OTTERBOURNE. 283

and every way loose, except where tightly con-
tined round the loins with a richly studded
girdle. The skirts were only allowed to fall to
about the middle of the thigh, being then
doubled curiously inward, and, as it were, re-
turned to the waist; thus shewing the whole
of the lower limbs. These, in the present in-
,4tance, were shapely enough to warrant the
exposure; though scarcely improved by the
preposterously pointed pantoufle in which they
terminated. A light cap of parcel tissue, and
drooping feather, completed his investment;
surmounting a countenance, fair and glowing,
but indicative of overweening self arrogation.

" I could not be mistaken!" he ejaculated,
thrusting eagerly forward, and saluting the de
Couplands' with graceful but familiar courtesy.
" Save thee, fair ladies ! (vailing his bonnet)
save thee, worthy sir knight ! — I may hardly
give ye joyous welcome, seeing that your coming
has not been a thing of choice. News of thy
surprizal, renowned Sir John, hath reached us.

284 OTTERBOURNE.

Well 'twas no worse ! Well thou hast escaped
the Scot in person ! By the light of love's own
eyes ! and those are thine, fairest Amise, hadst
thou been carried off, the border chivalry had
sworn a crusade for thy recovery."

" Do thou then on their part, thank this
young esquire for saving them the vow," re-
joined Hester — " Twas nigh being called for, I
can tell thee, and might have proved a whit too
trying".

" Not so, I cry your mercy, pretty Mistress
Hester" — replied the cavalier, without deigning
to notice the allusion to Raimond, " its being
known that thou didst partake the duress,
would have doubled our force, and made it irre-
sistible."

" Natheless" — observed Sir John, " the long
arm of the Percy befriended them as well —
nay, all the better, for being earlier out-
stretched."

This remark caused the stranger to turn his
eyes inquiringly upon Raimond, whose person

OTTER BOURNE. 283

he appeared to recognize, though he did not
see fit to acknowledge acquaintance.

" You look puzzled, Sir Rafe," said Hester,
whose disposition to say unpalatable things is
not unknown. " The truth is, we owe our
rescue to a retainer of the Percy, and that is no
marvel ; the cognizance of that puissant house
being, as thou art aware, ever seen where
service is to do upon the marches. This esquire
is he."

Sir Ralph, or Rafe, of Raby, (for a future
distinction we use the latter surname) did not,
as the lady pre-supposed, receive the above
explanation with any overflow of complacency
As a son of the powerful lord Neville, who
divided with the Earl of Northumberland the
homage of the north, he was not likely to listen
to the praises of the rival family with a very
gratified ear. Not that any positive enmity
existed between these two frontier princes, on
the contrary, they were allied by marriage ; but
there was certainly such an emulation — such a

286 OTTERBOURNE.

craving to engross honour and influence, as
often threatened an approach to it.

The young Neville had also a private whimsey
which induced him to disrelish the topic ; he
therefore, passed it without apparent regard.
Rudely overlooking Miles Farneley's right of
pre-audience, and obvious wish to exercise it,
he still continued to engage de Coupland.

" And may I ask," he demanded, " what
makes my honoured friend in this quarter of
the town ? Methought that Neville House
would have been his first resort ; to which this
is an unnecessary circuit."

" Why, in sooth, gallant Sir Rafe," answered,
the banneret, his blunt candour not suggesting
any polite varnish, " I had thought of it, as,
indeed, I might have thought on other mansions
open to me ; but, in short, I have accepted en-
tertainment with the worthy bailiff, here."

*' My honourable master, most noble knight,"
appended Mouboucher, who was a great stickler
for dignities, and felt somewhat scandalized at

OTTERBOURNE. 287

Sir John's undue and clumsily qualified pre-
ference, " believed my lord of Neville to be
elsewhere in abidance, and — ''

" What still of that '* interrupted Sir Rafe,
looking only to Sir John, for he was, on his part,
a slighter of inferior dignities, " I, his son, am
here, and will be proud to receive the noble
Coupland as befits his friend. Have vnth me,
Sir John ! I'll tend thy pleasure, even as our
Black Prince Edward did on John of France.
Peerless Amise, wilt thou not once again grace
the board of Neville, and gladden the soul of a
lone-left knight. The demoiselle Arnecliffe, I
trust will lend me advocacy."

Amisia, thus appealed to, and her high sense
of gentle courtesy embarked on behalf of the
Fameleys, replied, with some warmth; in a
strain of discouragement. She was the more
aroused to this from perceiving that her sire
appeared, most indelicately, to waver in his de-
cision.

" Sir Rafe Neville's fair intents merit my

288 OTTERBOURNE.

poor acknowledgement," said she, " but I should
hope that, as a knight and a gentleman, he will
recall to mind what he has already heard from
my father, and hold it to anticipate my answer,
as well as to preclude any further pressure of
the subject.''

Raimond had listened to the florid speeches
of the Neville with all the poignant sensations
incident to a really high-spirited man, oppressed
by a benumbing apprehension of artificial in-
feriority. He was feelingly alive to the indif-
ference, not to say indignity, wherewith his
parent and himself were treated ; and cruelly so,
when he found it such as to place him under
the humiliation of being patronized — protected,
as it were, by the woman to whom he would

have wished to have been ; but we all

know what a lover wishes to be to his mistress.
As it was, he could no longer remain passive.

" If," said he, pointedly, " Sir John de
Coupland holds himself inconveniently pledged ;
if the idle thought he hath bestowed upon the

OTTER BO LUXE. 289

humble rooftree of the Farneleys be premature,
he can forget it at his pleasure. We do not
intrude our trivial accommodation."

" Nay, Raimond," said the elder Farneley,
chidingly, " thy speech falls short of seemly
reverence. The noble knight may not be so freely
moved by men of our degree. His worship's
own inclining be his prompter."

" List to the grovelling beast of a tmder!»
croaked Spalding, in the ear of Tyzack, *' hark
ye how the lust of petty gains — the ducking ge-
nius of the mart, destroys the man ! Why this
fellow would lay himself down to be spurned at
by pretension, even as the small fish turn their
bellies to invite the osprey's beak ! Out on the
clay-clod ! "

The friar, however, in some measure, wronged
the merchant. Habituated, like all his class in
this age, to regard the feudal magnates as
beings of a different sphere, he could not on a
sudden conquer his submissive awe; but, though

VOL. I. O

290 OTTERBOURNE.

t

thereby impelled to reprove, he was neverthe-
less secretly pleased at the demeanour of his
son.

Sir John, albeit his perceptions were seldom
of the brightest, chose on this occasion the
worthier course. He entertained a rough liking
for whatever he fancied to smack of manliness,
(a taste, by the by, extremely common in Eng-
land, and valuable, excepting that it is often
perverted to the encouragement of ruffianism)
and thence thought proper to applaud and side
with Raimond.

"The youth delivers honestly," said he, " and
his portaunce becomes a follower of arms, gentle
or simple. Our first engagement holds, as it is
meet it should. Sir Rafe, thou see'st we may
not for the nonce accept thy courtesies, all
honour to thee beino; reserved. Master Fame-
ley, lead us the way."

" Methinks the baron of Coupland takes
mighty account of small considerations," mur-

OTTERBOURNE. 291

mured Sii Rafe, with a curl of the lip. " But
I suppose it is to Harry Percy's vassal the com-
pliment is paid."

" Marry, no, sir knight of Raby !" returned
De Coupland, somewhat nettled. " I render me
with the worthy bailiff from right good will
to him and his ; to whom I am, moreover,
bound for other favours. I hold no second
thought."

Well could Amisia have subjoined to this
declaration a hearty avowal of concurrence ; but
a barrier of delicacy — a fear of inferences, at
which she herself wondered, restrained her. She,
and all, prepared to follow her father and his
chosen host.

" The Lady Amise," said Sir Rafe, " Will at
least grant me the happiness of tending at her
side, the few moments she remains unhoused.
Where the chain of pleasure scants, I had well
need not to slip the smallest link.'*

Thus saying, he spurred his horse, betwixt

292 OTTERBOURNE.

hers and that of Farneley, to whom he threw one
of those indifferent apologies, which generally
rather add to affront.

The esquire was a gentleman of nature's own
making. He felt a slight keenly, but he ever
contemned the turbulent impulses which, to
gratify passing spleen, would disturb common
harmony by unseemly and ill-timed contention.
In the immediate case, indeed, the pretensions
of his rival, both as a nobleman and one esta-
blished in familiar intimacy, were too painfully
beyond challenge to admit of dispute. He
therefore silently acquiesced in an exclusion he
could not resent.

It proved fortunate that the dweUing of his
father was near at hand ; otherwise, he would
have been tasked with a species of endurance
too intolerable to bear prolongation. This arose
in witnessing the easy confidence wherewith the
young knight poured forth his ingratiations to
the lady of his obvious admiration ; attributing

OTTERBOURXF. 293

any coldness that might attend their reception
solely to the fatigue and inanity consequent on
a long journey. IfRaimond also perceived such
symptoms, the same notion with respect to it
prevented his drawing from them any relief.
He compared, midst bitter execrations on
fate, the other's bolstered position with his
own ; sighing over the disparity which denied
him the privilege he saw so enviably appro-
priated.

There are many, perhaps, who will think
Raimond Farneley little better than a fancy-
sick fool for yielding to these impressions ; and
so might we ourselves, but for an abundant
experience that the acts and aspirations of men
do not usually square with reflective sense. Let
one of these carpers, living in a world of preju-
dice, have a choice golden-headed shaft from
the urchin god's quiver — which practically, we
take to be the bright eye of woman herself —
levelled at him, and let the adorable be of

294 . OTTERBOUKNE,

inaccessible station, he will find himself guilty
of more follies than were " dreamt of in his
philosophy."

END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.

C. WHITING, BEAUFORT HOL'Si), STRAND.

B^.x W

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