be executed by me. She hath that in her veins that, I fear me, will soon stop the springs of life.' 'Cruel villain,' exclaimed the Lady, 'thou hast not poisoned her?' 'And if I had,' said Dryfesdale, 'what does it so greatly merit? Men. bane vermin?why not rid them of their enemies so? in Italy they will do it for a cruizuedor.'
'Cowardly ruffian, begone from my sight!'
'Think better of my zeal, Lady,' said the steward, 'and judge not without looking around you. Lindesay, Ruthven, and your kinsman Morton, poniarded Rizzio, and yet you now see no blood on their embroidery?the Lord Semple stabbed the Lord of Sanquhar?does his bonnet sit a jot more awry on his brow? What noble lives in Scotland who has not had a share, for policy or revenge, in some such dealing??and who imputes it to them? Be not cheated with names?a dagger or a draught work to the same end, and are little unlike?a glass phial imprisons the one, and a leathern sheath the other?one deals with the brain, the other sluices the blood?Yet, I say not I gave aught to this lady.'
'What dost thou mean by thus dallying with me?' said the Lady; 'as thou wouldst save thy neck from the rope it merits, tell me the whole truth of this story-thou hast long been known a dangerous man.'
'Ay, in my master's service I can be cold and sharp as my sword. Be it known to you, that when last on shore, I consulted with a woman of skill and power, called Nicneven, of whom the country has rung for some brief time past. Fools asked her for charms to make them beloved, misers for means to increase their store; some demanded to know the future?an idle wish, since it cannot be altered; others would have an explanation of the past?idler still, since it cannot be recalled. I heard their queries with scorn, and demanded the means of avenging myself of a deadly enemy, for I grow old, and may trust no longer to Bilboa blade. She gave me a packet?`Mix that,' said she, `with any liquid, and thy vengeance is complete.''
'Villain! and you mixed it with the food of this imprisoned Lady, to the dishonour of thy master's house?'
'To redeem the insulted honour of my master's house, I mixed the contents of the packet with the jar of succory-water: They seldom fail to drain it, and the woman loves it over all.'
'It was a work of hell,' said the Lady Lochleven, 'both the asking and the granting.?Away, wretched man, let us see if aid be yet too late!'
'They will not admit us, madam, save we enter by force?I have been. twice at the door, but can obtain no entrance.'
'We will beat it level with the ground, if needful?And, hold?summon Randal hither instantly.?Randal, here is a foul and evil chance befallen?send off a boat instantly to Kinross, the Chamberlain Luke Lundin is said to have skill?Fetch off, too, that foul witch Nicneven; she shall first counteract her own spell, and then be burned to ashes in the island of Saint Serf. Away, away?Tell them to hoist sail and ply oar, as ever they would have good of the Douglas's hand!'
'Mother Nicneven will not be lightly found, or fetched hither on these conditions,' answered Dryfesdale.
'Then grant her full assurance of safety?Look to it, for thine own life must answer for this lady's recovery.'
'I might have guessed that,' said Dryfesdale, sullenly; 'but it is my comfort I have avenged mine own cause, as well as yours. She hath scoffed and scripped at me, and encouraged her saucy minion of a page to ridicule my stiff gait and slow speech. I felt it borne in upon me that I was to be avenged on them.'
'Go to the western turret,' said the Lady, 'and remain there in ward until we see how this gear will terminate. I know thy resolved disposition?thou wilt not attempt escape.'
'Not were the walls of the turret of egg-shells, and the lake sheeted ice,' said Dryfesdale. 'I am well taught, and strong in belief, that man does nought of himself; he is but the foam on the billow, which rises, bubbles, and bursts, not by its own effort, but by the mightier impulse of fate which urges him. Yet, Lady, if I may advise, amid this zeal for the life of the Jezebel of Scotland, forget not what is due to thine own honour, and keep the matter secret as you may.'
So saying, the gloomy fatalist turned from her, and stalked off with sullen composure to the place of confinement allotted to him.
His lady caught at his last hint, and only expressed her fear that the prisoner had partaken of some unwholesome food, and was dangerously ill. The castle was soon alarmed and in confusion. Randal was dispatched to the shore to fetch off Lundin, with such remedies as could counteract poison; and with farther instructions to bring mother Nicneven, if she could be found, with full power to pledge the Lady of Lochleven's word for her safety.
Meanwhile the Lady of Lochleven herself held parley at the door of the Queen's apartment, and in vain urged the page to undo it.
'Foolish boy!' she said, 'thine own life and thy Lady's are at stake? Open, I say, or we will cause the door to be broken down.'
'I may not open the door without my royal mistress's orders,' answered Roland; 'she has been very ill, and now she slumbers?if you wake her by using violence, let the consequence be on you and your followers.'
'Was ever woman in a strait so fearful!' exclaimed the Lady of Lochleven?'At least, thou rash boy, beware that no one tastes the food, but especially the jar of succory-water.'
She then hastened to the turret, where Dryfesdale had composedly resigned himself to imprisonment. She found him reading, and demanded of him, 'Was thy fell potion of speedy operation?'
'Slow,' answered the steward. 'The hag asked me which I chose?I told her I loved a slow and sure revenge. 'Revenge,' said I, 'is the highest-flavoured draught which man tastes upon earth, and he should sip it by little and little?not drain it up greedily at once.'
'Against whom, unhappy man, couldst thou nourish so fell a revenge?'
'I had many objects, but the chief was that insolent page.'
'The boy!?thou inhuman man!' exclaimed the lady; 'what could he do to deserve thy malice?'
'He rose in your favour, and you graced him with your commissions? that was one thing. He rose in that of George Douglas's also?that was another. He was the favourite of the Calvinistic Henderson, who hated me because my spirit disowns a separated priesthood. The Moabitish Queen held him dear?winds from each opposing point blew in his favour?the old servitor of your house was held lightly among ye?above all, from the first time I saw his face, I longed to destroy him.'
