LITMIR.BIZ

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loss of this officious page of the princess, he would be freed from the controul of petticoat-government. He perceived that the princess lived in concealment somewhere in the neighbourhood – kept an eye over all his actions and movements – and, by this her agent, checked or upbraided him according to her whimsical inexperience. Douglas was ambitious of having the beautiful princess for his spouse – of being son-in-law to his sovereign – and the first man in the realm; but he liked not to have his counsels impeded, or his arms checked, by a froward and romantic girl, however high her lineage or her endowments might soar. So that, upon the whole, though he regretted the death of Colin Roy MacAlpin, he felt like one released from a slight bondage. Alas, noble chief! little didst thou know of the pang that was awaiting thee!

      It will be recollected that, when the Lady Margaret first arrived in the camp in the character of Colin her own page, she lodged her maid in the city of Roxburgh, disguised likewise as a boy. With her she communicated every day, and contrived to forward such letters to the Court as satisfied her royal mother with regard to the motives of her absence – though these letters were, like many others of the sex, any thing but the direct truth. The king was at this period living in retirement at his castle of Logie in Athol, on pretence of ill health.

      The name of the maiden of honour thus disguised was Mary Kirkmichael, the daughter of a knight in the shire of Fife. She was a lady of great beauty, and elegant address – shrewd, sly, and enterprising.

      Two days after the rueful catastrophe above related, word was brought to Douglas, while engaged in his pavilion, that a lady at the door begged earnestly to see him. ‘Some petitioner for the life of a prisoner,’ said he: ‘What other lady can have business with me? Tell her I have neither leisure nor inclination at present to listen to the complaints and petitions of women.’

      ‘I have told her so already,’ said the knight in waiting; ‘but she refuses to go away till she speak with you in private; and says that she has something to communicate that deeply concerns your welfare. She is veiled; but seems a beautiful, accomplished, and courtly dame.’

      At these words the Douglas started to his feet. He had no doubt that it was the princess, emerged from her concealment in the priory or convent, and come to make inquiries after her favourite, and perhaps establish some other mode of communication with himself. He laid his account with complaints and upbraidings, and, upon the whole, boded no great good from this domiciliary visit. However, he determined to receive his royal mistress with some appearance of form; and, in a few seconds, at a given word, squires, yeomen, and grooms, to the amount of seventy, were arranged in due order, everyone in his proper place; and up a lane formed of these was the lady conducted to the captain, who received her standing and uncovered; but, after exchanging courtesies with her, and perceiving that it was not the princess, jealous of his dignity, he put on his plumed bonnet, and waited with stately mien the development of her rank and errand.

      It was Mary Kirkmichael.

      ‘My noble lord,’ said she. ‘I have a word for your private ear, and deeply doth it concern you and all this realm.’

      Douglas beckoned to his friends and attendants, who withdrew and left him alone with the dame, who began thus with great earnestness of manner: ‘My lord of Douglas, I have but one question to ask, and, if satisfied with the answer, will not detain you a moment. What is become of the page Colin that attended your hand of late?’ Douglas hesitated, deeming the lady to be some agent of the princess Margaret’s. ‘Where is he?’ continued she, raising her voice, and advancing a step nearer to the captain. ‘Tell me, as you would wish your soul to thrive. Is he well? Is he safe?’

      ‘He is sped on a long journey, lady, and you may not expect to meet him again for a season.’

      ‘Sped on a long journey! Not see him again for a season! What does this answer mean? Captain, on that youth’s well-being hang the safety, the nobility, and the honour of your house. Say but to me he is well, and not exposed to any danger in the message on which he is gone.’

      ‘Of his well-being I have no doubt; and the message on which he is gone is a safe one. He is under protection from all danger, commotion, or strife.’

      ‘It is well you can say so, else wo would have fallen to your lot, to mine, and to that of our nation.’

      ‘I know he was a page of court, and in the confidence of my sovereign and adored Lady Margaret. But how could any misfortune attending a page prove of such overwhelming import?’

      ‘Was a page of court, my lord? What do you infer by that was? Pray what is he now? I entreat of you to be more explicit.’

      ‘The plain truth of the matter is shortly this: The boy fell into the hands of our enemies that night of the late fierce engagement.’

      At this the lady uttered a scream; and Douglas, dreading she would fall into hysterics, stretched out his arms to support her. ‘I pity you, gentle maiden,’ said he, ‘for I perceive you two have been lovers.’

      She withdrew herself, shunning his profered support, and, looking him wildly in the face, said in a passionate voice, ‘In the hands of the English? O Douglas, haste to redeem him! Give up all the prisoners you have for that page’s ransom; and if these will not suffice, give up all the lands of Douglas and Mar; and if all these are still judged inadequate, give up yourself. But, by your fealty, your honour, your nobility, I charge you, and, in the name of the Blessed Virgin, I conjure you to lose no time in redeeming that youth.’

      Douglas could scarcely contain his gravity at this rhapsody, weening it the frantic remonstrance of a love-sick maid; but she, perceiving the bent and tenor of his disposition, held up her hand as a check to his ill-timed levity. ‘Unhappy chief!’ exclaimed she, ‘Little art thou aware what a gulf of misery and despair thou art suspended over, and that by a single thread within reach of the flame, and liable every moment to snap, and hurl thee into inevitable ruin. Know, and to thyself alone be it known, that that page was no other than the princess of Scotland herself; who, impelled by romantic affection, came in that disguise to attend thee in all thy perils, undertaken for her sake. It was she herself who seized her rival, and placed her in your hands, thus giving you an advantage which force could not bestow. And from time to time has she laid such injunctions on you, written and delivered by her own hand, as she judged conducive to your honour or advantage. If you suffer that inestimable lady to lye in durance, or one hair of her head to fall to the ground, after so many marks of affection and concern for you, you are unworthy of lady’s esteem, of the titles you bear, or the honour of knighthood.’

      When the lady first came out with the fatal secret, and mentioned the princess’s name, Douglas strode hastily across the floor of the pavilion, as if he would have run out at the door, or rather fallen against it; but the motion was involuntary; he stopped short, and again turned round to the speaker, gazing on her as if only half comprehending what she said. The truth of the assertion opened to him by degrees; and, it may well be supposed, the intelligence acted upon his mind and frame like a shock of electricity. He would fain have disbelieved it, had he been able to lay hold of a plausible pretext to doubt it; but every recollected circumstance coincided in the establishment of the unwelcome fact. All that he could say to the lady, as he stood like a statue gazing her in the face, was, ‘Who art thou?’

      ‘I am Mary Kirkmichael of Balmedie,’ said she, ‘and I came with the princess, disguised as her attendant. I am her friend and confidant, and we held communication every day, till of late that my dear mistress discontinued her visits. O captain, tell me if it is in your power to save her!’

      Douglas flung himself on a form in the corner of the tent, and hid his face with his hand, and at the same time groaned as if every throb would have burst his heart’s casement. He had seen his royal, his affectionate, and adored mistress swung from the enemy’s battlements, without one effort to save her, and without a tear wetting his cheek; and his agony of mind became so extreme that he paid no more regard to the lady, who was still standing over him, adding the bitterest censure to lamentation. Yet he told her not of her mistress’s melancholy fate – he could not tell her; but the ejaculatory words that he uttered from time to time too plainly informed Mary Kirkmichael that the life of her royal mistress was either

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