As, to the Autumn breeze's bugle sound, Various and vague the dry leaves
dance their round; Or, from the garner-door, on ether borne, The chaff flies
devious from the winnow'd corn; So vague, so devious, at the breath of heaven,
From their fix'd aim are mortal counsels driv'n.
Anonymous.
WE left Caleb Balderstone in the extremity of triumph at the success of his
various achievements for the honour of the house of Ravenswood. When he had
mustered and marshalled his dishes of divers kinds, a more royal provision had
not been seen in Wolf's Crag since the funeral feast of its deceased lord. Great
was the glory of the serving-man, as he "decored" the old oaken table with a
clean cloth, and arranged upon it carbonaded venison and roasted wild-fowl, with
a glance, every now and then, as if to upbraid the incredulity of his master and
his guests; and with many a story, more or less true, was Lockhard that evening
regaled concerning the ancient grandeur of Wolf's Crag, and the sway of its
barons over the country in their neighbourhood.
"A vassal scarce held a calf or a lamb his ain, till he had first asked if
the Lord of Ravenswood was pleased to accept it; and they were obliged to ask
the lord's consent before they married in these days, and mony a merry tale they
tell about that right as weel as others. And although," said Caleb, "these times
are not like the gude auld times, when authority had its right, yet true it is,
Mr. Lockhard, and you yoursell may partly have remarked, that we of the house of
Ravenswood do our endeavour in keeping up, by all just and lawful exertion of
our baronial authority, that due and fitting connexion betwixt superior and
vassal, whilk is in some danger of falling into desuetude, owing to the general
license and misrule of these present unhappy times."
"Umph!" said Mr. Lockhard; "and if I may inquire, Mr. Balderstone, pray do
you find your people at the village yonder amenable? for I must needs say, that
at Ravenswood Castle, now pertaining to my master the Lord Keeper, ye have not
left behind ye the most compliant set of tenantry."
"Ah! but Mr. Lockhard," replied Caleb, "ye must consider there has been a
change of hands, and the auld lord might expect twa turns frae them, when the
new-comer canna get ane. A dour and fractious set they were, thae tenants of
Ravenswood, and ill to live wi' when they dinna ken their master; and if your
master put them mad ance, the whole country will not put them down."
"Troth," said Mr. Lockhard, "an such be the case, I think the wisest thing
for us a ' wad be to hammer up a match between your young lord and our winsome
young leddy up-bye there; and Sir William might just stitch your auld barony to
her gown-sleeve, and he wad sune cuitle another out o' somebody else, sic a lang
head as he has."
Caleb shook his head. "I wish," he said--"I wish that may answer, Mr.
Lockhard. There are auld prophecies about this house I wad like ill to see
fulfilled wi' my auld een, that has seen evil eneugh already."
"Pshaw! never mind freits," said his brother butler; "if the young folk liked
ane anither, they wad make a winsome couple. But, to say truth, there is a leddy
sits in our hall-neuk, maun have her hand in that as weel as in every other job.
But there's no harm in drinking to their healths, and I will fill Mrs. Mysie a
cup of Mr. Girder's canary."
While they thus enjoyed themselves in the kitchen, the company in the hall
were not less pleasantly engaged. So soon as Ravenswood had determined upon
giving the Lord Keeper such hospitality as he had to offer, he deemed it
incumbent on him to assume the open and courteous brow of a well-pleased host.
It has been often remarked, that when a man commences by acting a character, he
frequently ends by adopting it in good earnest. In the course of an hour or two,
Ravenswood, to his own surprise, found himself in the situation of one who
frankly does his best to entertain welcome and honoured guests. How much of this
change in his disposition was to be ascribed to the beauty and simplicity of
Miss Ashton, to the readiness with which she accommodated herself to the
inconveniences of her situation; how much to the smooth and plausible
conversation of the Lord Keeper, remarkably gifted with those words which win
the ear, must be left to the reader's ingenuity to conjecture. But Ravenswood
was insensible to neither.
The Lord Keeper was a veteran statesman, well acquainted with courts and
cabinets, and intimate with all the various turns of public affairs during the
last eventful years of the 17th century. He could talk, from his own knowledge,
of men and events, in a way which failed not to win attention, and had the
peculiar art, while he never said a word which committed himself, at the same
time to persuade the hearer that he was speaking without the least shadow of
scrupulous caution or reserve. Ravenswood, in spite of his prejudices and real
grounds of resentment, felt himself at once amused and instructed in listening
to him, while the statesman, whose inward feelings had at first so much impeded
his efforts to make himself known, had now regained all the ease and fluency of
a silver-tongued lawyer of the very highest order.
His daughter did not speak much, but she smiled; and what she did say argued
a submissive gentleness, and a desire to give pleasure, which, to a proud man
like Ravenswood, was more fascinating than the most brilliant wit. Above all, he
could not be observe that, whether from gratitude or from some other motive, he
himself, in his deserted and unprovided hall, was as much the object of
respectful attention to his guests as he would have been when surrounded by all
the appliances and means of hospitality proper to his high birth. All
deficiencies passed unobserved, or, if they did not escape notice, it was to
praise the substitutes which Caleb had contrived to supply the want of the usual
accommodations. Where a smile was unavoidable, it was a very good-humoured one,
and often coupled with some well-turned compliment, to show how much the guests
esteemed the merits of their noble host, how little they thought of the
inconveniences with which they were surrounded. I am not sure whether the pride
of being found to outbalance, in virtue of his own personal merit, all the
disadvantages of fortune, did not make as favourable an impression upon the
haughty heart of the Master of Ravenswood as the conversation of the father and
the beauty of Lucy Ashton.
The hour of repose arrived. The Keeper and his daughter retired to their
apartments, which were "decored" more properly than could have been anticipated.
In making the necessary arrangements, Mysie had indeed enjoyed the assistance of
a gossip who had arrived from the village upon an exploratory expedition, but
had been arrested by Caleb, and impressed into the domestic drudgery of the
evening; so that, instead of returning home to describe the dress and person of
the grand young lady, she found herself compelled to be active in the domestic
economy of Wolf's Crag.
According to the custom of the time, the Master of Ravenswood attended the
Lord Keeper to his apartment, followed by Caleb, who placed on the table, with
all the ceremonials due to torches of wax, two rudely-framed tallow-candles,
such as in those days were only used by the peasantry, hooped in paltry clasps
of wire, which served for candlesticks. He then disappeared, and presently
entered with two earthen flagons (the china, he said, had been little used since
my lady's time), one filled with canary wine, the other with brandy. The canary
sack, unheeding all probabilities of detection, he declared had been twenty
years in the cellars of Wolf's Crag, "though it was not for him to speak before
their honours; the brandy--it was weel- kenn'd liquor, as mild as mead and as
strong as Sampson; it had been in the house ever since the memorable revel, in
which auld Micklestob had been slain at the head of the stair by Jamie of
Jenklebrae, on account of the honour of the worshipful Lady Muirend, wha was in
some sort an ally of the family; natheless--- -"
"But to cut that matter short, Mr. Caleb," said the Keeper, "perhaps you will
favour me with a ewer of water."
"God forbid your lordship should drink water in this family," replied Caleb,
"to the disgrace of so honourable an house!"
"Nevertheless, if his lordship have a fancy," said the Master, smiling, "I
think you might indulge him; for, if I mistake not, there has been water drank
here at no distant date, and with good relish too."
"To be sure, if his lordship has a fancy," said Caleb; and re- entering with
a jug of pure element--"He will scarce find such water onywhere as is drawn frae
the well at Wolf's Crag; nevertheless----"
"Nevertheless, we must leave the Lord Keeper to his repose in this poor
chamber of ours," said the Master of Ravenswood, interrupting his talkative
domestic, who immediately turning to the doorway, with a profound reverence,
prepared to usher his master from the secret chamber.
But the Lord Keeper prevented his host's departure.--"I have but one word to
say to the Master of Ravenswood, Mr. Caleb, and I fancy he will excuse your
waiting."
With a second reverence, lower than the former, Caleb withdrew; and his
master stood motionless, expecting, with considerable embarrassment, what was to
close the events of a day fraught with unexpected incidents.
"Master of Ravenswood," said Sir William Ashton, with some embarrassment, "I
hope you understand the Christian law too well to suffer the sun to set upon
your anger."
The Master blushed and replied, "He had no occasion that evening to exercise
the duty enjoined upon him by his Christian faith."
"I should have thought otherwise," said his guest, "considering the various
subjects of dispute and litigation which have unhappily occurred more frequently
than was desirable or necessary betwixt the late honourable lord, your father,
and myself."
"I could wish, my lord," said Ravenswood, agitated by suppressed emotion,
"that reference to these circumstances should be made anywhere rather than under
my father's roof."
"I should have felt the delicacy of this appeal at another time," said Sir
William Ashton, "but now I must proceed with what I mean to say. I have suffered
too much in my own mind, from the false delicacy which prevented my soliciting
with earnestness, what indeed I frequently requested, a personal communing with
your father: much distress of mind to him and to me might have been prevented."
"It is true," said Ravenswood, after a moment's reflection, "I have heard my
father say your lordship had proposed a personal interview."
"Proposed, my dear Master? I did indeed propose it; but I ought to have
begged, entreated, beseeched it. I ought to have torn away the veil, which
interested persons had stretched betwixt us, and shown myself as I was, willing
to sacrifice a considerable part even of my legal rights, in order to conciliate
feelings so natural as his must be allowed to have been. Let me say for myself,
my young friend, for so I will call you, that had your father and I spent the
same time together which my good fortune has allowed me to-day to pass in your
company, it is possible the land might yet have enjoyed one of the most
respectable of its ancient nobility, and I should have been spared the pain of
parting in enmity from a person whose general character I so much admired and
honoured."
He put his handkerchief to his eyes. Ravenswood also was moved, but awaited
in silence the progress of this extraordinary communication.
"It is necessary," continued the Lord Keeper, "and proper that you should
understand, that there have been many points betwixt us, in which, although I
judged it proper that there should be an exact ascertainment of my legal rights
by the decree of a court of justice, yet it was never my intention to press them
beyond the verge of equity."
"My lord," said the Master of Ravenswood, "it is unnecessary to pursue this
topic farther. What the law will give you, or has given you, you enjoy--or you
shall enjoy; neither my father nor I myself would have received anything on the
footing of favour."
"Favour! No, you misunderstand me," resumed the Keeper; "or rather you are no
lawyer. A right may be good in law, and ascertained to be so, which yet a man of
honour may not in every case care to avail himself of."
"I am sorry for it, my lord," said the Master.
"Nay, nay," retorted his guest, "you speak like a young counsellor; your
spirit goes before your wit. There are many things still open for decision
betwixt us. Can you blame me, an old man desirous of peace, and in the castle of
a young nobleman who has saved my daughter's life and my own, that I am
desirous, anxiously desirous, that these should be settled on the most liberal
principles?" The old man kept fast hold of the Master's passive hand as he
spoke, and made it impossible for him, be his predetermination what it would, to
return any other than an acquiescent reply; and wishing his guest good-night, he
postponed farther conference until the next morning.
Ravenswood hurried into the hall, where he was to spend the night, and for a
time traversed its pavement with a disordered and rapid pace. His mortal foe was
under his roof, yet his sentiments towards him were neither those of a feudal
enemy nor of a true Christian. He felt as if he could neither forgive him in the
one character, nor follow forth his vengeance in the other, but that he was
making a base and dishonourable composition betwixt his resentment against the
father and his affection for his daughter. He cursed himself, as he hurried to
and fro in the pale moonlight, and more ruddy gleams of the expiring wood-fire.
He threw open and shut the latticed windows with violence, as if alike impatient
of the admission and exclusion of free air. At length, however, the torrent of
passion foamed off its madness, and he flung himself into the chair which he
proposed as his place of repose for the night.
"If, in reality," such were the calmer thoughts that followed the first
tempest of his pasion--"if, in reality, this man desires no more than the law
allows him--if he is willing to adjust even his acknowledged rights upon an
equitable footing, what could be my father's cause of complaint?--what is mine?
Those from who we won our ancient possessions fell under the sword of my
ancestors, and left lands and livings to the conquerors; we sink under the force
of the law, now too powerful for the Scottish cavalry. Let us parley with the
victors of the day, as if we had been besieged in our fortress, and without hope
of relief. This man may be other than I have thought him; and
his daughter--but I have resolved not to think of her."
He wrapt his cloak around him, fell asleep, and dreamed of Lucy Ashton till
daylight gleamed through the lattices.
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