Volume I Part 14 (1/2)
Dame Robson covered the hearth with a huge fire; and her husband bringing in a leg of beef, set it upon the table, and bade every one help himself.
”The words of thy mouth are exceeding good, and sweet unto the ear,”
said the friar, ”as doubtless thy food is to the taste.” With that he rose and helped himself to three nice and extensive slices of raw beef, and these he roasted on the tongs which he had just lifted to smite the poet on the head.
In good truth, though every one cooked his own supper, as was the fas.h.i.+on of that iron time, there was none did it half so nicely as the friar, nor so bunglingly as Jordan, whose supper, though long behind the others in being ready, was so unshapely a piece, and so raw on the one side, that the friar observed, ”it was like Ephraim of old, as a cake unturned.” Some roasted their meat on old swords, some on spindles, for their hosts took no heed how they were fitted, or in what manner they s.h.i.+fted in these respects; seemingly satisfied that they had plenty for the cooking, and leaving them to cook it or eat it raw, as they chose.
The poet made haste, and, first of all, cooked two or three nice slices for the maiden, giving her what she would take before he would taste a morsel himself. Some commended him for this, and others jeered him; but the friar, in his grave moral style, said the severest things of all. From the very commencement of the journey, a jealousy or misunderstanding began to subsist between these two, which never again subsided till they came to blows.
The poet answered him again with a song:
”Keep ye to your books and your beads, goodman, Your Ave Marias and creeds, goodman; For gin ye end as ye're begun, There will be some crack of your deeds, goodman.”
At length the party retired to rest, all save Jordan and their worthy host. The latter never slept in the night; he had always some watching, walking, or work in hand that suited that season best: and as for Gibby, he determined to sit up all night to watch that the poet made no encroachments on the place of Delany's repose. Robson encouraged his purpose, joined him heartily in conversation, listened to his long-winded stories with apparent delight, and, when all the rest were asleep, wormed the whole business of the emba.s.sy out of the shallow laird, who unfortunately testified his fears that they were carrying the lovely maiden and boy to the old warlock to be a sacrifice to the devil.
Robson appeared terribly confounded at this peace of intelligence,--for from the time that he heard it he conversed no more with Jordan. About one in the morning he began to put on his snow-boots, as if preparing for a journey.
”Where are ye going at this time of night?” enquired the laird.
”I maun gang out an' see how the night wears,” said Robson; ”I hae sax score o' Scots queys that are outlyers. If I let the king's ellwand ower the hill, I'll hae them to seek frae the kips o' Kale.”
Gibby accompanied him to the door, hoping the king's ellwand would not be over the hill, for he had no good will to part with his companion.
But as soon as Robson turned his eye to the sky, ”Ha, gude faith, I maun post away!” said he, ”Yonder's the king's ellwand already begun to bore the hill; ay, there's ane o' the goud k.n.o.bs out o' sight already, an' I hear the queys rowting ower the waterfa' o' the height. Gude morrow t'ye, laird, I'm ower lang here.”
Gibby returned in to the blazing fire; and hearing so many persons all snoring in sleep, he caught the infection, stretched himself upon a divot seat, and joined the chorus with as much zeal as any of them.
Morning came, and our emba.s.sy made ready for proceeding on their journey; but Robson still was wanting, at which both his dame and household lads seemed to wonder, otherwise the rest would have taken no notice of it. Gibby told her about the queys that were outlyers, but she only answered him with a hem! and a slight shake of the head. Charlie, who knew his man well, began to smell a rat; and, calling Gibby to the door, he inquired if he had hinted ought of their business to their host. The laird at first denied; but Charlie questioned him till he confessed the whole, at which Charlie was exceedingly angry; and hearing that he had informed him all about the maiden, and of what family she was sprung, he called Gibby a worthless inconsiderate being, and said he had ruined their expedition, for that he knew Robson kept up a correspondence with the Halls, who were broken men, and many of them skulking about the border; that Delany had uncles, cousins, and a brother living, if she was the man's daughter she was supposed to be, and that these would without fail waylay them, and kill them every man, for the sake of rescuing her. ”Robson,” said he, ”is altogether selfish, and has some end to serve; perhaps to get the maid into his own hands, for he seemed mightily taken with her beauty; and I calculate widely amiss if we are not watched from this house, and whether we return or proceed we shall be attacked in the first strait or lonely place that we come at.” Jordan looked exceedingly out of countenance, and every feature of his face altered. ”What had I ado to tell the rascal?”
exclaimed he, ”or wha wad hae thought o' him playing us sic a trick?
Twa-faced dog that he is! It wad be weel done to let his liver pree the taste o' steel!”
Charlie made him promise that he would not mention the circ.u.mstance to one of the party, as it was only a surmise, and might impede their progress to no purpose; and forthwith they mounted, armed with such armour as they had, and all, save Gibby Jordan, as cheerful and as jealous of one another as they were on the preceding day. That worthy kept close by the side of muckle Charlie, and looked so sharp about him, that he perceived every shepherd, traveller, and cairn that appeared on the border fells, always testifying his alarm to his friend that perhaps yon was one of the Halls watching.
Charlie had resolved to go by Jedburgh straight for Oakwood castle; but his suspicions of Robson made him resolve to hold more to the eastward, in order to keep the open road. He knew that if they were watching him, it would be at the fords of Kale or Oxnam, on the Jedburgh road; and by taking the east path, he would not only elude them, but, in case of a pursuit, be near the outposts of the Scottish army.
For a good way they saw nothing, and began to think themselves in safety; but, in coming down Sowerhope-Middle, a little from the point of the debated land, three hors.e.m.e.n appeared to the westward of them. ”His presence be about us,” said Gibby,--”yonder _are_ the Halls now!”
Charlie said nothing, but kept watch. One of the yeomen vanished in a twinkling at full speed, the other two came at a brisk canter to our notable emba.s.sy.
”What do they mean?” said Jordan: ”Do these two fellows propose to conquer us all?”
”It wad appear that they do,” said Charlie, ”for they come on us without halt or hesitation.”
”I hardly think they'll succeed,” added Gibby, ”although they're twa dangerous looking chaps. For G.o.dsake, Yardbire, tak care o' their back strokes; if they bring you down, our chance will be the waur.”
Charlie then called to the rest of his cavalcade, ”Friends, here are some strangers come to join us. Tell them nothing either good or bad, but keep on at a round trot. See, we are not far from the towers of Roxburgh. Whatever these men may say to you, make them nothing the wiser.”
”I will not so much as say unto them, whence comest thou, or whither art thou going?” said the friar.
”I'll sing them a ditty of beauty and love, Of the wing of the raven, the eye of the dove, And beings all purer than angels above.”
said the poet.
”Sic a rhame o' nonsense is there!” said Tam Craik: ”If ony o' the dogs say an impertinent thing to me I'll gar his teeth gang down his throat like bristled beans.”
It was not long before the two moss-troopers joined the party. They were tall athletic men, armed at all points, and their manner had a dash of insulting impertinence in it.