“Alexander Stewart, Earl of Buchan, and Lord of Badenoch, son of Robert, our most pious King,” replied the Franciscan.
“We do know right well that there once was such an one as thou dost name,” replied the voice; “but now he hath no existence. The great sentence of excommunication hath gone forth against his hardened obstinacy, and the Holy Church knoweth him no longer.”
“He cometh here as an humble penitent, to crave mercy and pardon of our Holy Mother Church,” replied the Franciscan.
“Is he ready to confess his sins against God and man, then?” demanded the voice. “Is he prepared humbly on his knees to declare his penitence, and to implore that mercy and pardon, the which must of necessity be extended to him ere he can again be received back into the bosom of that Church which he hath so greatly outraged?”
“He is,” replied the Franciscan.
“Then, if such be his sincere professions,” replied the voice, “let him and all understand, that albeit she can greatly and terribly punish, yet doth the Church delight in mercy, and it is ever her most joyful province to open her doors wide to her sincerely repentant children.”
These words were no sooner uttered, than the folding doors were thrown wide, and the populace were dazzled with the grandeur of the spectacle that presented itself. The verse of a hymn, that burst from a powerful choir within, added to the sublimity of the effect, whilst it gave time for the spectators to feast their eyes without distraction on what they beheld. In the centre of the doorway stood Walter Traill, the Bishop of St. Andrews, arrayed in all the splendour of his pastoral robes. Within his left arm was his crosier, and in his right hand he raised aloft a large silver crucifix. On his right and left were the Bishops of Dunblane and Dunkeld, behind whom were the whole dignitaries of the three sees in all their pomp of costume. [[591]]The Church had been darkened that it might be artificially lighted by tapers, so as to present objects under that softly diffused and holy kind of illumination most favourable for the productions of strong impressions of awe. By this was seen a long train of Abbots and Priors, with Monks and Friars from all those religious houses we have already particularised. The sight was grand and imposing in itself, and picturesque in its grouping and disposal. The Franciscan Friar John whispered the Wolfe of Badenoch, and he bent down with a rigid effort until his knees were on the pavement. His sons and his followers imitated his example.
“Alexander Stewart, Earl of Buchan, and Lord of Badenoch,” said the Bishop of St. Andrews, in a full and sonorous voice, when the music had died away, “dost thou earnestly desire to be relieved from the heavy sentence of excommunication which thy manifold crimes and iniquities have compelled the Church to issue forth against thee?”
“I do,” replied the Wolfe in a firm voice.
“Dost thou humbly confess and repent thee of thy sins in general,” demanded the Bishop; “and art thou willing to confess and repent thee of each sin in particular at the high altar of this holy temple?”