Curfew street, who liked not to hear Catharine called the Fair Maid of Perth, should be possessed of this story of her faithful Valentine. They opened on the scent so keenly, that, rather than doubt had fallen on the tale, they would have vouched for it as if their own eyes had seen it. The lover came to her father's within an hour after, and your worship may think what a reception he had from the angry glover, for the damsel herself would not be looked upon. And thus your honour sees I had a foretaste of revenge. But I trust to receive the full draught from the hands of your lordship, with whom I am in a brotherly league, which—'
'Brotherly!' said the knight, contemptuously. 'But be it so, the priests say we are all of one common earth. I cannot tell, there seems to me some difference; but the better mould shall keep faith with the baser, and thou shalt have thy revenge. Call thou my page hither.'
A young man made his appearance from the anteroom upon the physician's summons.
'Eviot,' said the knight, 'does Bonthron wait? and is he sober?'
'He is as sober as sleep can make him after a deep drink,' answered the page.
'Then fetch him hither, and do thou shut the door.'
A heavy step presently approached the apartment, and a man entered, whose deficiency of height seemed made up in breadth of shoulders and strength of arm.
'There is a man thou must deal upon, Bonthron,' said the knight. The man smoothed his rugged features and grinned a smile of satisfaction.
'That mediciner will show thee the party. Take such advantage of time, place, and circumstance as will ensure the result; and mind you come not by the worst, for the man is the fighting Smith of the Wynd.'
'It Will be a tough job,' growled the assassin; 'for if I miss my blow, I may esteem myself but a dead man. All Perth rings with the smith's skill and strength.'
'Take two assistants with thee,' said the knight.
'Not I,' said Bonthron. 'If you double anything, let it be the reward.'
'Account it doubled,' said his master; 'but see thy work be thoroughly executed.'
'Trust me for that, sir knight: seldom have I failed.'
'Use this sage man's directions,' said the wounded knight, pointing to the physician. 'And hark thee, await his coming forth, and drink not till the business be done.'
'I will not,' answered the dark satellite; 'my own life depends on my blow being steady and sure. I know whom I have to deal with.'
'Vanish, then, till he summons you, and have axe and dagger in readiness.'
Bonthron nodded and withdrew.
'Will your knighthood venture to entrust such an act to a single hand?' said the mediciner, when the assassin had left the room. 'May I pray you to remember that yonder party did, two nights since, baffle six armed men?'
'Question me not, sir mediciner: a man like Bonthron, who knows time and place, is worth a score of confused revellers. Call Eviot; thou shalt first exert thy powers of healing, and do not doubt that thou shalt, in the farther work, be aided by one who will match thee in the art of sudden and unexpected destruction.'
The page Eviot again appeared at the mediciner's summons, and at his master's sign assisted the chirurgeon in removing the dressings from Sir John Ramorny's wounded arm. Dwining viewed the naked stump with a species of professional satisfaction, enhanced, no doubt, by the malignant pleasure which his evil disposition took in the pain and distress of his fellow creatures. The knight just turned his eye on the ghastly spectacle, and uttered, under the pressure of bodily pain or mental agony, a groan which he would fain have repressed.
'You groan, sir,' said the leech, in his soft, insinuating tone of voice, but with a sneer of enjoyment, mixed with scorn, curling upon his lip, which his habitual dissimulation could not altogether disguise—'you groan; but be comforted. This Henry Smith knows his business: his sword is as true to its aim as his hammer to the anvil. Had a common swordsman struck this fatal blow, he had harmed the bone and damaged the muscles, so that even my art might not have been able to repair them. But Henry Smith's cut is clean, and as sure as that with which my own scalpel could have made the amputation. In a few days you will be able, with care and attention to the ordinances of medicine, to stir abroad.'
'But my hand—the loss of my hand—'
'It may be kept secret for a time,' said the mediciner. 'I have possessed two or three tattling fools, in deep confidence, that the hand which was found was that of your knighthood's groom, Black Quentin, and your knighthood knows that he has parted for Fife, in such sort as to make it generally believed.'
'I know well enough,' said Ramorny, 'that the rumour may stifle the truth for a short time. But what avails this brief delay?'
'It may be concealed till your knighthood retires for a time from the court, and then, when new accidents have darkened the recollection of the present stir, it may be imputed to a wound received from the shivering of a spear, or from a crossbow bolt. Your slave will find a suitable device, and stand for the truth of it.'
'The thought maddens me,' said Ramorny, with another groan of mental and bodily agony; 'yet I see no better remedy.'
'There is none other,' said the leech, to whose evil nature his patron's distress was delicious nourishment. 'In the mean while, it is believed you are confined by the consequences of some bruises, aiding the sense of displeasure at the Prince's having consented to dismiss you from his household at the remonstrance of Albany, which is publicly known.'
'Villain, thou rack'st me!' exclaimed the patient.
'Upon the whole, therefore,' said Dwining, 'your knighthood has escaped well, and, saving the lack of your hand, a mischance beyond remedy, you ought rather to rejoice than complain; for no barber chirurgeon in France or England could have more ably performed the operation than this churl with one downright blow.'
'I understand my obligation fully,' said Ramorny, struggling with his anger, and affecting composure; 'and if Bonthron pays him not with a blow equally downright, and rendering the aid of the leech unnecessary, say that John of Ramorny cannot requite an obligation.'
'That is spoke like yourself, noble knight!' answered the mediciner. 'And let me further say, that the operator's skill must have been vain, and the hemorrhage must have drained your life veins, but for the bandages, the cautery, and the styptics applied by the good monks, and the poor services of your humble vassal, Henbane Dwining.'
'Peace,' exclaimed the patient, 'with thy ill omened voice and worse omened name! Methinks, as thou mentionest the tortures I have undergone, my tingling nerves stretch and contract themselves as if they still actuated the fingers that once could clutch a dagger.'
'That,' explained the leech, 'may it please your knighthood, is a phenomenon well known to our profession. There have been those among the ancient sages who have thought that there still remained a sympathy between the severed nerves and those belonging to the amputated limb; and that the several fingers are seen to quiver and strain, as corresponding with the impulse which proceeds from their sympathy with the energies of the living system. Could we recover the hand from the Cross, or from the custody of the Black Douglas, I would be pleased to observe this wonderful operation of occult sympathies. But, I fear me, one might as safely go to wrest the joint from the talons of an hungry eagle.'
'And thou mayst as safely break thy malignant jests on a wounded lion as on John of Ramorny,' said the knight, raising himself in uncontrollable indignation. 'Caitiff, proceed to thy duty; and remember, that if my hand can no longer clasp a dagger, I can command an hundred.'
'The sight of one drawn and brandished in anger were sufficient,' said Dwining, 'to consume the vital powers of your chirurgeon. But who then,' he added in a tone partly insinuating, partly jeering—'who would then relieve the fiery and scorching pain which my patron now suffers, and which renders him exasperated even with his poor servant for quoting the rules of healing, so contemptible, doubtless, compared with the power of inflicting wounds?'
Then, as daring no longer to trifle with the mood of his dangerous patient, the leech addressed himself seriously to salving the wound, and applied a fragrant balm, the odour of which was diffused through the apartment, while it communicated a refreshing coolness, instead of the burning heat—a change so gratifying to the fevered patient, that, as he had before groaned with agony, he could not now help sighing for pleasure, as he sank back on his couch to enjoy the ease which the dressing bestowed.
'Your knightly lordship now knows who is your friend,' said Dwining; 'had you yielded to a rash impulse, and
