“We will consider the possibility of so disposing the matter,” said the monk, “and will expect in consequence your master's most active assistance, with all the followers he can make, to join in the defence of the Halidome, against any force by which it may be threatened.”
“A man's hand and a mailed glove on that,” said the jackman. “They
{Footnote: As some atonement for their laxity of morals on most occasions, the Borderers were severe observers of the faith which they had pledged, even to an enemy. If any person broke his word so plighted, the individual to whom faith had not been observed, used to bring to the next Border-meeting a glove hung on the point of a spear, and proclaim to Scots and English the name of the defaulter. This was accounted so great a disgrace to all connected with him, that his own clansmen sometimes destroyed him, to escape the infamy he had brought on them.
Constable, a spy engaged by Sir Ralph Sadler, talks of two Border thieves, whom he used as his guides:—“That they would not care to steal, and yet that they would not betray any man that trusts in them, for all the gold in Scotland or in France. They are my guides and outlaws. If they would betray me they might get their pardons, and cause me to be hanged; but I have tried them ere this.”—Sadler's letters during the Northern Insurrection.}
call us marauders, thieves, and what not; but the side we take we hold by.—And I will be blithe when my Baron comes to a point which side he will take, for the castle is a kind of hell, (Our Lady forgive me for naming such a word in this place!) while he is in his mood, studying how he may best advantage himself. And now, Heaven be praised, we are in the open valley, and I may swear a round oath, should aught happen to provoke it.”
“My friend,” said the Sub-Prior, “thou hast little merit in abstaining from oaths or blasphemy, if it be only out of fear of evil spirits.”
“Nay, I am not quite a Church vassal yet,” said the jackman, “and if you link the curb too tight on a young horse, I promise you he will rear—Why, it is much for me to forbear old customs on any account whatever.”
The night being fine, they forded the river at the spot where the Sacristan met with his unhappy encounter with the spirit. As soon as they arrived at the gate of the Monastery, the porter in waiting eagerly exclaimed, “Reverend father, the Lord Abbot is most anxious for your presence.”
“Let these strangers be carried to the great hall,” said the Sub-Prior, “and be treated with the best by the cellarer; reminding them, however, of that modesty and decency of conduct which becometh guests in a house like this.”
“But the Lord Abbot demands you instantly, my venerable brother,” said Father Philip, arriving in great haste. “I have not seen him more discouraged or desolate of counsel since the field of Pinkie-cleugh was stricken.”