“Crime!” replied Murdoch, “Why, mother, there is an absolute virtue in such a deed. Have we not put an end to their rapacity and knavery? And have we not thereby saved many a foolish maiden from being cheated by them? By Saint Nicholas, but the doer of so good a deed deserves to be canonized!”
“But come, boy, thy treasure,” said the greedy and impatient dame. “Quick,—what hast thou got to show me? Haste thee to feast mine eyes with the spoil of these miscreants.”
“In the first place, then,” said Murdoch, “as at a feast we should always begin with the solids,—here is a small bag of broad pieces, which might well satisfy many a hungry man. Secondly, here are your curious cates and delicacies, enow to bedizen out a dozen of lordlings’ daughters!—See what a chain!—how exquisite the workmanship!—Behold these rings,—see what sparkling gems! Every one of them set, too, most rarely in a different fashion! Here is one, for example, which would seem to have a curious posey in it; some ready-made love verse, I suppose. Let me see,—‘Feare God and doe no evyle,’—eh! ha!—that—that is a good advice, which the last owner, as I take it, was too great a knave to profit by; but you and I, mother dear——”
“Have done with thy foolery, Murdoch,” said the lady, impatiently; “have done with thy foolery, and give me thy booty, without farther nonsense. Now, leave me for a while, and go talk with the old man, whilst I bestow the treasure in a place of safety. Thou knowest it will all go to deck thy bride, when thou canst find one.”
“Leave me alone for that, mother,” said Murdoch, significantly. “I promise thee, I have mine eye on a good man’s daughter, whom I shall have by foul or by fair means ere I die. But that is a secret I shall keep to myself till the time comes; so good day, good mother.”
“What can he mean?” said the Lady Stradawn, after he was gone. “But ’tis nothing, after all, but his wild talk. No, no; I must have my say with him when it comes to that!”
Now that the lady found herself alone, she doubly locked and bolted the door. She then spread the gold and the jewels on the table before her, and glutted her eyes for a time with the glittering sight. Applying her keys to a cabinet which stood against the wall, she opened the leaves of it, and so exposed the front of a set of secret drawers, shallower above and deeper below. Selecting other keys from the bunch, she began to open and to examine the drawers, one by one, from above downwards—her eyes successively surveying the riches they contained, whilst, with scrupulous attention, she from time to time selected articles from among the spoils on the table, and deposited them among the rest, as fancy led her to sort and arrange them, carefully locking each drawer ere she proceeded to open the next; and thus she went on until she found that she had disposed of the whole of the trinkets.
“’Twas no great things, after all,” said she, musing; “I wonder when they will go forth again? But let me count the money.—Aye, that is pretty well; and yet it might have been more for the death of two men. But there are other two men I know of, whose lives would be worth more!—Hush!—did I not hear a noise?—Quick—let me huddle the gold into this drawer in the cabinet, where I bestowed the broad pieces in the hurry I was taken with when the Priest came in last night.—What!—nothing there!—Ha!—can the man who—can the villain have robbed me?—Yes; it could have been no one else.—I see clearly how it was. He asked me for money—I gave him two pieces from that very drawer. His greedy eyes saw what it contained, and, whilst my back was turned, he must have cleverly helped himself to the whole. It could have been nobody else, because I well remember that I carefully closed the leaves of the cabinet, locked them, and put the keys into my iron strong-box, before I called Jessy to bring the refreshments.—What a consummate knave!—But what could I expect better of such a reprobate—a priest who glories as he does in his wickedness? It would have been well perhaps for me that I had never seen him.—And yet—But his share of his crime is his own.—Wretch that he is, he might have had it all for the asking.—Weak woman that I am, I could have refused him nothing.—Well, I must e’en let it pass, and be more careful again.—But I shall look better after this bag of broad pieces. It shall be added to the heap I have here,” continued she, unlocking a drawer of deeper and larger dimensions. “Aye!” said she, eyeing the treasure it contained with avaricious delight,—“that is all safe; go thou, then, to increase the store, and may my darling boy soon fetch me other bags to bear these company in this their prison-house!”
I must now return to the two brothers. Walter, who usually directed every thing in all their expeditions, never halted until he found himself far up on these very mountains now before us. He sought for deer, it is true; but, whilst he did so, or rather, whilst he allowed his brother and his people to do so, his mind seemed to be occupied with something else than hunting. It was towards evening, when he and the rest of the party were still tracking their way through the forest without success, when, they at last found themselves in that part of it, which then covered the hill that hangs over the haugh of Dalestie, some miles above this. Partial breaks among the trees there gave Sir Walter, now and then, a view downwards into the valley below; and, as he walked and ruminated within himself, as if oppressed with some weighty matter, his secret musings were suddenly broken by the distant toll of the bell of a small chapel, which, if I am rightly informed, then stood near the bottom of the hill. The sound came mellowed over the intervening woods, and Sir Walter started as it reached his ear. He became deeply moved; but his emotion was not like that movement of piety which the note of the church-going bell should awaken. It more resembled that, which, when the hoarse trumpet has sounded, or the shrill pipes have struck up, I have myself seen convert the godlike countenance of man into that of a demon. Sir Walter Stewart stamped upon the ground.
“Dugald!” cried he aloud; “What ho, Dugald Roy, I say. Does that bell call to evening mass?”