Dark and shadowy, looming like ranks of giant Titans through the flying mist, the striking outlines of these fantastic mansions overshadowed the way; and under the gloomier shade of their groined arcades, our four friends, muffled and masked, wandered to and fro without having any decided object in view.
They were no other than the Earl of Bothwell, the Marquis d'Elboeuff, and their friends, Hob of Ormiston, and John Maitland, lord of Coldinghame, brother of the famous Lethington, who, though a gay roué, held the offices of Lord Privy Seal and Prior of Coldinghame—the Priory he held in commendam. They had all been drinking joyously overnight at Adam Ainslie's, and had now sallied forth bent on brawl and mischief, despite the burgh acts, which were very stringent regarding "night walkers;" for the bailies had enacted that each night at the hour of ten, after forty strokes had been given by the great bell of the High Kirk, (the old name of St. Giles had been voted idolatrous,) any person found walking in the streets should be summarily imprisoned during the pleasure of the provost; while, for the better maintenance of a nightly watch, the city was divided into thirty districts, over each of which were two captains, a merchant and craftsman, empowered to keep the peace of the burgh by dint of jeddard axe and Scottish spear.
But our four gallants had sallied forth prepared for every emergency. Bothwell was completely mailed in the fashion of the time, all save the head, on which he wore a blue bonnet, and his legs, which were defended by his bombasted trunks and quilted hosen. The Marquis d'Elboeuff was similarly accoutred, but wore one of those strong and plain salades, which had only one horizontal slit for the eyes, and he bore on his left arm a light French rondelle or buckler; but Ormiston and Coldinghame wore only pyne doublets, or undercoats of defence quilted with wire, and so called from having been first worn by pions, or foot-soldiers. They were all disguised by black velvet masks and dark mantles, under which they carried their swords and daggers.
"How goeth the night, Marquis?" asked Bothwell, as they stumbled along the dark street, breaking their shins against the outside stairs that then in hundreds encumbered the way.
"By St. Denis!" lisped the French noble in his broken dialect; "I know not, for I never was rich enough to buy me a horologue."
"How! is thine appanage of Elboeuff in the Rumois so poor?"
"'Tis past midnight," said Coldinghame; "I heard St. Giles toll twelve."
"A bonny hour and a merry for thee to be abroad, Lord Prior, when thou oughtest be saving thy nocturnal," said Bothwell.
"True; but belonging, as I do, to the Reformed kirk, I own no monastic law; no! by the most immaculate Jupiter!" bawled the lay prior as he swaggered along; "'Tis very long since I abjured the follies of the Church of Rome."
"She lost much by thy defection," said Bothwell, scornfully; "but devil take me, Prior, if thou art not very drunk."