Both Sides the Border: A Tale of Hotspur and Glendower. Henty George Alfred
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I was feeling as if I had just got out of a cold cellar, into the sunshine, and could shout with very lightness of heart. I am not in the least disposed to quarrel with anyone, so let your mind be easy as to my doings. I shall be discretion itself; and even if I am called upon to strike, will do so as gently as may be, putting only such strength into the blow as will prevent an opponent from troubling us further."
So, with a wave of the hand, they rode on.
"I had better strap that staff beside your saddle, and under your knee," Oswald said, when they had ridden a short distance. "You carry it as if it were a spear, and I have seen already three or four people smile, as we passed them."
Roger reluctantly allowed Oswald to fasten the staff beside him.
"One wants something in one's hands," he said. "On foot it does not matter so much, but now I am on horseback again, I feel that I ought to have a spear in hand, and a sword dangling at my side."
"You must remember that you are still a monk, Roger, although enlarged for a season. Some day, perhaps, you will be able to gratify your desires in that way. You had best moderate the speed of your horse, for although he ambles along merrily, at present, he can never carry that great carcase of yours, at this pace, through our journey."
"I should like one good gallop," Roger sighed, as he pulled at the rein, and the horse proceeded at a pace better suited to the appearance of its rider.
"A nice figure you would look, with your robes streaming behind you," Oswald laughed. "There would soon be a story going through the country, of a mad monk.
"Now, we take this turning to the right, and here leave the main north road, for we are bound, in the first place, to Roxburgh."
"I thought that it must be that, or Berwick, though I asked no questions."
"We shall not travel like this beyond Roxburgh, but shall journey forward on foot."
"I supposed that we should come to that, Master Oswald, for otherwise you would not have told me to provide myself with a staff."
They journeyed pleasantly along. Whenever they approached any town or large village, Oswald reined back his horse a little, so that its head was on a level with Roger's stirrup. They slept that night at Kirknewton, where they put up at a small hostelry. Oswald had intended going to the monastery there, but Roger begged so earnestly that they should put up elsewhere, that he yielded to him.
"I should have no end of questions asked, as to our journey across the border, and its object," Roger said; "and it always goes against my conscience to have to lie, unless upon pressing occasions."
"And, moreover," Oswald said, with a laugh, "you might be expected to get up to join the community at prayers, at midnight; and they might give you a monk's bed, instead of a more comfortable one in the guest chambers."
"There may be something in that," Roger admitted, "and I have so often to sleep on a stone bench, for the punishment of my offences, that I own to a weakness for a soft bed, when I can get one."
However, Oswald was pleased to see that his follower behaved, at their resting place, with more discretion than he could have hoped for; although he somewhat surprised his host, by the heartiness of his appetite; but, on the other hand, he was moderate in his potations, and talked but little, retiring to a bed of thick rushes, at curfew.
"In truth, I was afraid to trust myself," he said to Oswald, as they lay down side by side. "Never have I felt so free, since Otterburn–never, indeed, since that unfortunate day when I was wounded, and conceived the fatal idea of becoming a monk. Two or three times, the impulse to troll out a trooper's song was so strong in me, that I had to clap my hand over my mouth, to keep it in."
"'Tis well you did, Roger, for assuredly if you had so committed yourself, on the first day of starting, I must have sent you back to Alnwick, feeling that it would not be safe for you to proceed with me farther. When we get upon the Cheviots, tomorrow, you may lift your voice as you choose; but it were best that you confined yourself to a Latin canticle, even there, for the habit of breaking into songs of the other kind might grow upon you."
"I will do so," Roger said, seriously. "Some of the canticles have plenty of ring and go, and the words matter not, seeing that I do not understand them."
The next morning they resumed their journey, crossed the Cheviots, which were here comparatively low hills; and, after four hours' riding, arrived at Roxburgh.
"Why do we come here?" Roger asked. "It would surely have been much shorter had we travelled through Berwick, and along the coast road."
"Much shorter, Roger; but Sir Henry thought it better that we should go inland to Haddington, and thence east to Dunbar; as, thus entering the town, it would seem that we came from Edinburgh, or from some western monastery; whereas, did we journey by the coast road, it might be guessed that we had come from England."
As before, they put up at a hostelry; and Oswald then proceeded, on foot, to the governor's house. Some soldiers were loitering at the door.
"What do you want, lad?" one of them asked, as he came up.
"I have a letter, which I am charged to deliver into the governor's own hands."
"A complaint, I suppose, from some worthy prior, who has lost some of his beeves?"
"Maybe the governor will inform you, if you ask him," Oswald replied.
"I shall pull your ear for you, when you come out, young jackanapes," the soldier said, hotly.
"That danger I must even risk. Business first, and pleasure afterwards."
And while the other soldiers burst into a fit of laughter, at the astonishment of their comrade at what he deemed the insolence of this young servitor of a monastery, he quietly entered. The guard at the door, who had heard the colloquy, led him into the governor's room.
"A messenger with a letter desires speech with you, Sir Philip," he said.
"Bid him enter," the knight said, briefly.
Oswald entered, and bowed deeply. He waited until the door closed behind the attendant, and then said:
"I am the bearer of a letter, sir, from Lord Percy to you."
The knight looked at him in surprise.
"Hotspur has chosen a strange messenger," he muttered to himself, as he took the missive Oswald held out to him, cut the silk that bound it with a dagger, and read its contents. As he laid it down, he rose to his feet.
"Excuse my want of courtesy," he said. "Lord Percy tells me that you are one of his esquires–no slight recommendation–and that you are intrusted with somewhat important a mission, on his part, to Dunbar, a still higher recommendation–for assuredly he would not have selected you for such a purpose, had you not stood high in his regard. But, indeed, at first I took you for what you seemed, as the bearer of a complaint from some abbot; for in truth, such complaints are not uncommon, for whenever a bullock is lost, they put it down to my men.
"Where are your horses that Percy speaks of? You will, I hope, take up your abode here, as long as you stay in the town."
"Thank you, Sir Philip; but I shall go forward in the morning. I have already put up at the Golden Rose. It would attract attention, were I to come here, and it were best that I remain as I am; and indeed, I have brought no clothes with me, save those I stand in."
"Well, perhaps, as you do not wish to attract attention, it were best so; and I pray you inform Lord Percy of the reason why you declined my entertainment."
"I shall be glad, Sir Philip, if you will send down a couple of your men to fetch the horses up to your stables; as I shall start, as soon as the gates are open, tomorrow morning."
"I will do so, at once."
And the governor rang a handbell on the table.
"Send two of the men up here," he said, as an attendant entered.
A minute later a door opened, and two soldiers came in, and saluted. One of them, to Oswald's amusement, was the man with whom he had exchanged words, below.
"You will accompany this gentleman to the Golden Rose,