The Days of Bruce Vol 1 Read online

  CHAPTER IV.

  "Buchan! the Countess of Buchan, sayest thou, Athelbert? nay, 'tisscarce possible," said a fair and noble-looking woman, still in thebloom of life, though early youth had passed, pausing on her way to thequeen's apartment, to answer some information given by the senior page.

  "Indeed, madam, 'tis even so; she arrived but now, escorted by SirRobert Keith and his followers, in addition to some fifty of theretainers of Buchan."

  "And hath she lodging within the palace?"

  "Yes, madam; an it please you, I will conduct you to her, 'tis but astep beyond the royal suite."

  She made him a sign of assent, and followed him slowly, as if musingly.

  "It is strange, it is very strange," she thought, "yet scarcely so; shewas ever in heart and soul a patriot, nor has she seen enough of herhusband to change such sentiments. Yet, for her own sake, perchance ithad been better had she not taken this rash step; 'tis a desperate gamewe play, and the fewer lives and fortunes wrecked the better."

  Her cogitations were interrupted by hearing her name announced in a loudvoice by the page, and finding herself in presence of the object of herthoughts.

  "Isabella, dearest Isabella, 'tis even thine own dear self. I deemed theboy's tale well-nigh impossible," was her hasty exclamation, as with amuch quicker step she advanced towards the countess, who met herhalf-way, and warmly returned her embrace, saying as she did so--

  "This is kind, indeed, dearest Mary, to welcome me so soon; 'tis long,long years since we have met; but they have left as faint a shadow onthy affections as on mine."

  "Indeed, thou judgest me truly, Isabella. Sorrow, methinks, doth butsoften the heart and render the memory of young affections, youthfulpleasures, the more vivid, the more lasting: we think of what we havebeen, or what we are, and the contrast heightens into perfect bliss thatwhich at the time, perchance, we deemed but perishable joy."

  "Hast thou too learnt such lesson, Mary? I hoped its lore was allunknown to thee."

  "It was, indeed, deferred so long, so blessedly, I dared to pictureperfect happiness on earth; but since my husband's hateful captivity,Isabella, there can be little for his wife but anxiety and dread. Butthese--are these thine?" she added, gazing admiringly and tearfully onAgnes and Alan, who had at their mother's sign advanced from theembrasure, where they had held low yet earnest converse, and gracefullyacknowledged the stranger's notice. "Oh, wherefore bring them here, myfriend?"

  "Wherefore, lady?" readily and impetuously answered Alan; "art thou afriend of Isabella of Buchan, and asketh wherefore? Where our sovereignis, should not his subjects be?"

  "Thy mother's friend and sovereign's sister, noble boy, and yet I grieveto see thee here. The Bruce is but in name a king, uncrowned as yet andunanointed. His kingdom bounded by the confines of this one fair county,struggling for every acre at the bright sword's point."

  "The greater glory for his subjects, lady," answered the youth. "Thevery act of proclaiming himself king removes the chains of Scotland, andflings down her gage. Fear not, he shall be king ere long in somethingmore than name."

  "And is it thus a Comyn speaks?" said the Lady Campbell. "Ah, were theidle feuds of petty minds thus laid at rest, bold boy, thy dreams mighte'en be truth; but knowest thou, young man--knowest thou, Isabella, thebreach between the Comyn and the Bruce is widened, and, alas! by blood?"

  "Aye, lady; but what boots it? A traitor should have no name, no kin, orthose who bear that name should wash away their race's stain by noblerdeeds of loyalty and valor."

  "It would be well did others think with thee," replied Lady Campbell;"yet I fear me in such sentiments the grandson of the loyal Fife willstand alone. Isabella, dearest Isabella," she added, laying her hand onthe arm of the countess, and drawing her away from her children, "hastthou done well in this decision? hast thou listened to the calmer voiceof prudence as was thy wont? hast thou thought on all the evils thoumayest draw upon thy head, and upon these, so lovely and so dear?"

  "Mary, I have thought, weighed, pondered, and yet I am here," answeredthe countess, firmly, yet in an accent that still bespoke some inwardstruggle. "I know, I feel all, all that thou wouldst urge; that I amexposing my brave boy to death, perchance, by a father's hand, bringinghim hither to swear fealty, to raise his sword for the Bruce, in directopposition to my husband's politics, still more to his will; yet, Mary,there are mutual duties between a parent and a child. My poor boy hasever from his birth been fatherless. No kindly word, no glowing smilehas ever met his infancy, his boyhood. He scarce can know hisfather--the love, the reverence of a son it would have been such joy toteach. Left to my sole care, could I instil sentiments other than thosea father's lips bestowed on me? Could I instruct him in aught savelove, devotion to his country, to her rights, her king? I have done thisso gradually, my friend, that for the burst of loyalty, of impetuousgallantry, which answered Sir Robert Keith's appeal, I was well nighunprepared. My father, my noble father breathes in my boy; and oh, Mary,better, better far lose him on the battle-field, struggling forScotland's freedom, glorying in his fate, rejoicing, blessing me forlessons I have taught, than see him as my husband, as my brother--alas!alas! that I should live to say it--cringing as slaves before thefootstool of a tyrant and oppressor. Had he sought it, had heloved--treated me as a wife, Mary, I would have given my husbandall--all a woman's duty--all, save the dictates of my soul, but eventhis he trampled on, despised, rejected; and shall I, dare I thenforget, oppose the precepts of that noble heart, that patriot spiritwhich breathed into mine the faint reflection of itself?--offend thedead, the hallowed dead, my father--the heart that loved me?"

  She paused, in strong, and for the moment overpowering, emotion. Theclear, rich tones had never faltered till she spoke of him beloved evenin death--faltered not, even when she spoke of death as the portion ofher child; it was but the quivering of lip and eye by which the anguishof that thought could have been ascertained. Lady Campbell clasped herhand.

  "Thou hast in very truth silenced me, my Isabella," she said; "there isno combating with thoughts as these. Thine is still the same noble soul,exalted mind that I knew in youth: sorrow and time have had no power onthese."

  "Save to chasten and to purify, I trust," rejoined the countess, in herown calm tone. "Thrown back upon my own strength, it must have gatheredforce, dear Mary, or have perished altogether. But thou speakest,methinks, but too despondingly of our sovereign's prospects--are theyindeed so desperate?"

  "Desperate, indeed, Isabella. Even his own family, with the soleexception of that rash madman, Edward, must look upon it thus. Howthinkest thou Edward of England will brook this daring act of defiance,of what he will deem rank apostasy and traitorous rebellion? Aged,infirm as he is now, he will not permit this bold attempt to passunpunished. The whole strength of England will be gathered together,and pour its devastating fury on this devoted land. And what to this hasRobert to oppose? Were he undisputed sovereign of Scotland, we might,without cowardice, be permitted to tremble, threatened as he is; butconfined, surrounded by English, with scarce a town or fort to call hisown, his enterprise is madness, Isabella, patriotic as it may be."

  "Oh, do not say so, Mary. Has he not some noble barons already by hisside? will not, nay, is not Scotland rising to support him? hath he notthe hearts, the prayers, the swords of all whose mountain homes andfreeborn rights are dearer than the yoke of Edward? and hath he not, ifrumor speaks aright, within himself a host--not mere valor alone, butprudence, foresight, military skill--all, all that marks a general?"

  "As rumor speaks. Thou dost not know him then?" inquired Lady Campbell.

  "How could I, dearest? Hast thou forgotten thy anxiety that we shouldmeet, when we were last together, holding at naught, in thy merry mood,my betrothment to Lord John--that I should turn him from his wanderingways, and make him patriotic as myself? Thou seest, Mary, thy brotherneeded not such influence."

  "Of a truth, no," answered her friend; "for his present partner is avery contrast to thyself, and would rather
, by her weak and tremblingfears, dissuade him from his purpose than inspire and encourage it. Welldo I remember that fancy of my happy childhood, and still I wish it hadbeen so, all idle as it seems--strange that ye never met."

  "Nay, save thyself, Mary, thy family resided more in England than inScotland, and for the last seventeen years the territory of Buchan hasbeen my only home, with little interruption to my solitude; yet I haveheard much of late of the Earl of Carrick, and from whom thinkestthou?--thou canst not guess--even from thy noble brother Nigel."

  "Nigel!" repeated Lady Mary, much surprised.

  "Even so, sweet sister, learning dearer lore and lovelier tales thaneven Provence could instil; 'tis not the land, it is the _heart_ wherepoesie dwells," rejoined Nigel Bruce, gayly, advancing from the side ofAgnes, where he had been lingering the greater part of the dialoguebetween his sister and the countess, and now joined them. "Aye, Mary,"he continued, tenderly, "my own land is dearer than the land of song."

  "And dear art thou to Scotland, Nigel; but I knew not thy fond dreamsand wild visions could find resting amid the desert crags and barrenplains of Buchan."

  "Yet have we not been idle. Dearest Agnes, wilt thou not speak for me?the viol hath not been mute, nor the fond harp unstrung; and deeper,dearer lessons have thy lips instilled, than could have flowed fromfairest lips and sweetest songs of Provence. Nay, blush not, dearest.Mary, thou must love this gentle girl," he added, as he led her forward,and laid the hand of Agnes in his sister's.

  "Is it so? then may we indeed be united, though not as I in my girlhooddreamed, my Isabella," said Lady Campbell, kindly parting the clusteringcurls, and looking fondly on the maiden's blushing face. She was aboutto speak again, when steps were heard along the corridor, andunannounced, unattended, save by the single page who drew aside thehangings, King Robert entered. He had doffed the armor in which we sawhim first, for a plain yet rich suit of dark green velvet, cut andslashed with cloth of gold, and a long mantle of the richest crimson,secured at his throat by a massive golden clasp, from which gleamed theglistening rays of a large emerald; a brooch of precious stones,surrounded by diamonds, clasped the white ostrich feather in his cup,and the shade of the drooping plume, heightened perhaps by the advanceof evening, somewhat obscured his features, but there was that in hismajestic mien, in the noble yet dignified bearing, which could not forone moment be mistaken; and it needed not the word of Nigel to cause theyouthful Alan to spring from the couch where he had listlessly thrownhimself, and stand, suddenly silenced and abashed.

  "My liege and brother," exclaimed Lady Campbell, eagerly, as she hastilyled forward the Countess of Buchan, who sunk at once on her knee,overpowered by the emotion of a patriot, thinking only of her country,only of her sovereign, as one inspired by heaven to attempt her rescue,and give her freedom. "How glad am I that it has fallen on me to presentto your grace, in the noble Countess of Buchan, the chosen friend of mygirlhood, the only descendant of the line of Macduff worthy to bear thatname. Allied as unhappily she is to the family of Comyn, yet still,still most truly, gloriously, a patriot and loyal subject of your grace,as her being here, with all she holds most dear, most precious uponearth, will prove far better than her friend's poor words."

  "Were they most rich in eloquence, Mary, believe me, we yet should needthem not, in confirmation of this most noble lady's faithfulness andworth," answered the king, with ready courtesy, and in accents that wereonly too familiar to the ear of Isabella. She started, and gazed up forthe first time, seeing fully the countenance of the sovereign. "Rise,lady, we do beseech you, rise; we are not yet so familiar with the formsof royalty as to behold without some shame a noble lady at our feet.Nay, thou art pale, very pale; thy coming hither hath been too rapid,too hurried for thy strength, methinks; I do beseech you, sit." Gentlyhe raised her, and leading her gallantly to one of the cumbrous couchesnear them, placed her upon it, and sat down beside her. "Ha! that iswell; thou art better now. Knowest thou, Mary, thine office would havebeen more wisely performed, hadst thou presented _me_ to the Countess ofBuchan, not her to me."

  "Thou speakest darkly, good my liege, yet I joy to see thee thusjestingly inclined."

  "Nay, 'tis no jest, fair sister; the Countess of Buchan and I have metbefore, though she knew me but as a wild, heedless stripling first, anda moody, discontented soldier afterwards. I owe thee much, gentle lady;much for the night's lodging thy hospitality bestowed, though at thetime my mood was such it had no words of courtesy, no softening fancy,even to thyself; much for the kindness thou didst bestow, not only then,but when fate first threw us together; and therefore do I seek thee,lady--therefore would I speak to thee, as the friend of former years,not as the sovereign of Scotland, and as such received by thee." Hespoke gravely, with somewhat of sadness in his rich voice. Perhaps itwas well for the countess no other answer than a grateful bow wasneeded, for the sudden faintness which had withdrawn the color from hercheek yet lingered, sufficient to render the exertion of speakingpainful.

  "Yet pause one moment, my liege," said Nigel, playfully leading Alanforward; "give me one moment, ere you fling aside your kingly state.Here is a young soldier, longing to rush into the very thickest of afight that may win a golden spur and receive knighthood at your grace'shand; a doughty spokesman, who was to say a marvellously long speech ofduty, homage, and such like, but whose tongue at sight of thee hasturned traitor to its cause. Have mercy on him, good my liege; I'llanswer that his arm is less a traitor than his tongue."

  "We do not doubt it, Nigel, and will accept thy words for his. Besatisfied, young sir, the willing homage of all true men is precious toKing Robert. And thou, fair maiden, wilt thou, too, follow thy monarch'sfortunes, cloudy though they seem? we read thine answer in thy blushingcheek, and thus we thank thee, maiden."

  He threw aside his plumed cap, and gallantly yet respectfully salutedthe fair, soft cheek; confused yet pleased, Agnes looked doubtinglytowards Nigel, who, smiling a happy, trusting, joyous smile, led her afew minutes apart, whispered some fond words, raised her hand to hislips, and summoning Alan, they left the room together.

  "Sir Robert Keith informs me, noble lady," said the king, againaddressing Isabella, "that it is your determination to represent, inyour own proper person, the ancient line of Duff at the approachingceremony, and demand from our hands, as such representative, theprivilege granted by King Malcolm to your noble ancestor and hisdescendants, of placing on the sovereign's brow the coronet of Scotland.Is it not so?"

  "I do indeed most earnestly demand this privilege, my gracious liege,"answered the countess, firmly; "demand it as a right, a glorious right,made mine by the weak and fickle conduct of my brother. Alas! the onlymale descendant of that line which until now hath never known atraitor."

  "But hast thou well considered, lady? There is danger in this act,danger even to thyself."

  "My liege, that there is danger threatening all the patriots ofScotland, monarch or serf, male or female, I well know; yet in what doesit threaten me more in this act, than in the mere acknowledgment of theEarl of Carrick as my sovereign?"

  "It will excite the rage of Edward of England against thyselfindividually, lady; I know him well, only too well. All who join ingiving countenance and aid to my inauguration will be proclaimed,hunted, placed under the ban of traitors, and, if unfortunately taken,will in all probability share the fate of Wallace." His voice becamehusky with strong emotion. "There is no exception in his sweepingtyranny; youth and age, noble and serf, of either sex, of either land,if they raise the sword for Bruce and freedom, will fall by thehangman's cord or headsman's axe; and I, alas! must look on and bear,for I have neither men nor power to avert such fate; and that hand whichplaces on my head the crown, death, death, a cruel death, will be thedoom of its patriot owner. Think, think on this, and oh, retract thynoble resolution, ere it be too late."

  "Is she who gives the crown in greater danger, good my liege, than hewho wears it?" demanded the countess, with a calm and quiet smile.

  "Nay," he answere
d, smiling likewise for the moment, "but I were worsethan traitor, did I shrink from Scotland in her need, and refuse herdiadem, in fear, forsooth, of death at Edward's hands. No! I have heldback too long, and now will I not turn back till Scotland's freedom isachieved, or Robert Bruce lies with the slain. Repentance for the past,hope, ambition for the future; a firm heart and iron frame, a steady armand sober mood, to meet the present--I have these, sweet lady, to fitand nerve me for the task, but not such hast thou. I doubt not thypatriot soul; perchance 'twas thy lip that first awoke the slumberingfire within my own breast, and though a while forgotten, recalled, whenagain I looked on thee, after Falkirk's fatal battle, with the charge,the solemn charge of Wallace yet ringing in mine ears. Yet, lady, noblelady, tempt not the fearful fate which, shouldst thou fall into Edward'shands, I know too well will be thine own. I dare not promise suredefence from his o'erwhelming hosts: on every side they compass me. Isee sorrow and death for all I love, all who swear fealty to me. I shallsucceed in the end, for heaven, just heaven will favor the righteouscause; but trouble and anguish must be my lot ere then, and I would savethose I can. Remain with us an thou wilt, gratefully I accept the homageso nobly and unhesitatingly tendered; but still I beseech thee, lady,expose not thy noble self to the blind wrath of Edward, as thou surelywilt, if from thy hand I receive my country's crown."

  "My liege," answered the countess, in that same calm, quiet tone, "Ihave heard thee with a deep grateful sense of the noble feeling, thekindly care which dictates thy words; yet pardon me, if they fail toshake my resolution--a resolution not lightly formed, not the mereexcitement of a patriotic moment, but one based on the principles ofyears, on the firm, solemn conviction, that in taking this sacred officeon myself, the voice of the dead is obeyed, the memory of the dead, thenoble dead, preserved from stain, inviolate and pure. Would my fatherhave kept aloof in such an hour--refused to place on the brow ofScotland's patriot king the diadem of his forefathers--held back in fearof Edward? Oh! would that his iron hand and loyal heart were hereinstead of mine; gladly would I lay me down in his cold home and placehim at thy side, might such things be: but as it is, my liege, I dobeseech thee, cease to urge me. I have but a woman's frame, a woman'sheart, and yet death hath no fear for me. Let Edward work his will, ifheaven ordain I fall into his ruthless hands; death comes but once, 'tisbut a momentary pang, and rest and bliss shall follow. My father'sspirit breathes within me, and as he would, so let his daughter do. 'Tisnot now a time to depart from ancient forms, my gracious sovereign, andthere are those in Scotland who scarce would deem thee crowned, did notthe blood of Fife perform that holy office."

  "And this, then, noble lady, is thy firm resolve--I may not hope tochange it?"

  "'Tis firm as the ocean rock, my liege. I do not sue thee to permit mywill; the blood of Macduff, which rushes in my veins, doth mark it as myright, and as my right I do demand it." She stood in her majesticbeauty, proudly and firmly before him, and unconsciously the kingacknowledged and revered the dauntless spirit that lovely formenshrined.

  "Lady," he said, raising her hand with reverence to his lips, "do asthou wilt: a weaker spirit would have shrunk at once in terror from thevery thought of such open defiance to King Edward. I should have knownthe mind that framed such daring purpose would never shrink from itsfulfilment, however danger threatened; enough, we know thy faithfulnessand worth, and where to seek for brave and noble counsel in the hour ofneed. And now, may it be our privilege to present thee to our queen,sweet lady? We shall rejoice to see thee ever near her person."

  "I pray your grace excuse me for this night," answered the countess; "wehave made some length of way to-day, and, if it please you, I wouldseek rest. Agnes shall supply my place; Mary, thou wilt guard her, wiltthou not?"

  "Nay, be mine the grateful task," said the king, gayly taking themaiden's hand, and, after a few words of courtesy, he quitted thechamber, followed by his sister.

  There were sounds of mirth and revelry that night in the ancient hallsof Scone, for King Robert, having taken upon himself the state andconsequence of sovereignty, determined on encouraging the high spiritsand excited joyousness of his gallant followers by all the amusements ofchivalry which his confined and precarious situation permitted, andseldom was it that the dance and minstrelsy did not echo blithely in theroyal suite for many hours of the evening, even when the day had broughtwith it anxiety and fatigue, and even intervals of despondency. Therewere many noble dames and some few youthful maidens in King Robert'scourt, animated by the same patriotic spirit which led their husbandsand brothers to risk fortune and life in the service of their country:they preferred sharing and alleviating their dangers and anxieties, bythronging round the Bruce's wife, to the precarious calm and safety oftheir feudal castles; and light-heartedness and glee shed their brightgleams on these social hours, never clouded by the gloomy shades thatdarkened the political horizon of the Bruce's fortunes. Perchance thisnight there was a yet brighter radiance cast over the royal halls, therewas a spirit of light and glory in every word and action of the youthfulenthusiast, Nigel Bruce, that acted as with magic power on all around;known in the court of England but as a moody visionary boy, whose dreamswere all too ethereal to guide him in this nether world, whose hand,however fitted to guide a pen, was all too weak to wield a sword; thechange, or we should rather say the apparent change, perceived in himoccasioned many an eye to gaze in silent wonderment, and, in thesuperstition of the time, argue well for the fortunes of one brotherfrom the marvellous effect observable in the countenance and mood of theother.

  The hopefulness of youth, its rosy visions, its smiling dreams, allsparkled in his blight blue eye, in the glad, free, ringing joyance ofhis deep rich voice, his cloudless smiles. And oh, who is there canresist the witchery of life's young hopes, who does not feel the warmblood run quicker through his veins, and bid his heart throb even as ithath throbbed in former days, and the gray hues of life melt away beforethe rosy glow of youth, even as the calm cold aspect of waning night islost in the warmth and loveliness of the infant morn? And what was themagic acting on the enthusiast himself, that all traces of gloom andpensive thought were banished from his brow, that the full tide ofpoetry within his soul seemed thrilling on his lip, breathing in hissimplest word, entrancing his whole being in joy? Scarce could hehimself have defined its cause, such a multitude of strong emotions werebusy at his heart. He saw not the dangers overhanging the path of theBruce, he only saw and only felt him as his sovereign, as his brother,his friend, destined to be all that he had hoped, prayed, and believedhe would be; willing to accept and return the affection he had so longfelt, and give him that friendship and confidence for which he hadyearned in vain so long. He saw his country free, independent,unshackled, glorious as of old; and there was a light and lovely beingmingling in these stirring visions--when Scotland was free, whathappiness would not be his own! Agnes, who flitted before him in thatgay scene, the loveliest, dearest object there, clinging to him in hertimidity, shrinking from the gaze of the warriors around, respectful asit was, feeling that all was strange, all save him to whom her youngheart was vowed--if such exclusiveness was dear to him, if it were blissto him to feel that, save her young brother, he alone had claim upon hernotice and her smile, oh! what would it be when she indeed was all, allindivisibly his own? Was it marvel, then, his soul was full of the joythat beamed forth from his eye, and lip, and brow--that his faintesttone breathed gladness?

  There was music and mirth in the royal halls: the shadow of care hadpassed before the full sunshine of hope; but within that palace wall,not many roods removed from the royal suite, was one heart strugglingwith its lone agony, striving for calm, for peace, for rest, to escapefrom the deep waters threatening to overwhelm it. Hour after hour beheldthe Countess of Buchan in the same spot, well-nigh in the same attitude;the agonized dream of her youth had come upon her yet once again, thevoice whose musical echoes had never faded from her ear, once more hadsounded in its own deep thrilling tones, his hand had pressed her own,his e
ye had met hers, aye, and dwelt upon her with the unfeignedreverence and admiration which had marked its expression years before;and it was to him her soul had yearned in all the fervidness of loyalty,not to a stranger, as she had deemed him. Loyalty, patriotism, reverenceher sovereign claimed, aye, and had received; but now how dare sheencourage such emotions towards one it had been, aye, it was her duty toforget, to think of no more? Had her husband been fond, sought the nobleheart which felt so bitterly his neglect, the gulf which now dividedthem might never have existed; and could she still the voice of thatpatriotism, that loyalty towards a free just monarch, which the dyingwords of a parent had so deeply inculcated, and which the sentiments ofher own heart had increased in steadiness and strength? On what had thatlone heart to rest, to subdue its tempest, to give it nerve and force,to rise pure in thought as in deed, unstained, unshaded in itsnobleness, what but its own innate purity? Yet fearful was the stormthat passed over, terrible the struggle which shook that bent form, asin lowliness and contrition, and agony of spirit, she knelt before thesilver crucifix, and called upon heaven in its mercy to give peace andstrength--fierce, fierce and terrible; but the agonized cry was heard,the stormy waves were stilled.