Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland Volume I Part 8

"Then I am the Deil's property," said the warder, "unless I am saved by the power o' this strong drink."

And thus the men, encouraged by the smiles of Kate, who was, with great activity, conducting the ceremonies, seemed to be getting boisterous on the strength of the merchant's wine. Their jokes raised real laughter; and the noise of their mirth went up and entered into the hall, falling like incense on the heart of the merchant. Katherine, meanwhile, again betook herself to her station at the hall window, using a.s.siduously both her eyes and ears; the former being directed to a dark fir plantation that stood to the left of the castle, and the latter occupied by the conversations of her father and the merchant.

"My men," said Innerkepple, "seem to be following the example o' their master. They are gettin' noisy. I hope, Monsieur, ye were moderate in yer present. A castle-fu' o' drunk men is as bad as a headfu' o'

intoxicated notions."

("Hurrah for the French merchant! Long life to him! May he continue as strong as his liquor!")

"Aha! the jolly good fellows are feeling the sting of the spirit," said the merchant, with sparkling eyes.

"Ungratefu' dogs!" rejoined Innerkepple; "I treat them as if they were my sons, and hear hoo they praise a stranger for a bellyfu' o' wine! My beer never produced sae muckle froth o' flattery. But this wine o'

yours, Monsieur, drowns a' my indignation."

("Long life to Innerkepple and the fair Katherine!")

"Now you are getting the grand adulation," said the Frenchman. "Ha! they are a jovial troup of good chaps, and deserve one grand potation; but I gave them only one leetle hamper, for fear they should get _mouille_."

"Very considerate, Monsieur, very prudent and kind," said the baron; "for twa-thirds o' my men are fechtin fer Jamie, and we hae a kittle neebor in Otterstone, whase son I hear has come hame frae St. Omers.

By-the-by, saw ye the callant in France? They say he's sair ashamed o'

the defeat o' his father by the generalship o' my dochter Kate."

"Ha! did _ma chere_ leddy combattre Otterstone?" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the Frenchman, laughing. "Very good! ha! ha! ha! I did not know that, ven I sold him one quant.i.ty of vin yesterday; but I a.s.sure you, _mon cher_ Innerkepple, he is not at all your enemy, and his son did praise _ma chere_ leddy as the most magnificent vench in all the contree."

("Excellently sustained," muttered Katherine to herself. "How I do love the roll of that dark eye, and the curl of that lip covered with the black moustache! Can so much beauty conceal a deadly purpose? But the 'magnificent vench' shall earn yet a better t.i.tle to the soubriquet out of thy discomfiture, fair, deceitful, sweet devil.")

"I only wish I had Otterstone whar you are, man," said Innerkepple, "wi'

the liquor as sweet an' my bile nae bitterer. I would conquer him in better style than did my dochter, though, I confess, she man[oe]uvred him beautifully."

("Perdition to the faes o' Innerkepple! and, chief o' them, the fause Otterstone, the leddy-licked loon!")

"Helas! The master and the men have the very different creeds," said the Frenchman, shrugging his shoulders; "but my vin is making the _bon_ companions choleric. Ha! ha!"

("It is--it is!" muttered Katherine, as she strained her eyes to catch the signal of a white handkerchief, that floated on the top of one of the trees in the fir-wood.)

She now abruptly left the hall, and proceeded to the place in the court occupied by those who were wa.s.sailing on the coloured water she had brewed for them with her fair hands. They were busily occupied by the manifestations of their mirth, which was not altogether simulated. A cessation of the noise evinced the effect of her presence among those who deified her.

"Up with the merry strain, my jolly revellers!" said she, smiling, and immediately "Bertram the Archer," in loud notes, rung in the ballium:--

"And Bertram held aloft the horn, Filled wi' the bluid-red wyne, And three times has he loudly sworn His luve he winna tyne.

"My Anne sits on yon eastern tower, An' greets baith day and night, An' sorrows for her luver lost, An' right turned into might.

"'Then hie ye all, my merry men, To yonder lordly ha'!

An if they winna ope the gate, We'll scale the burly wa'.

"'Hurra!' then shouted Bertram's men, And loudly they hae sworn, That they will right their gallant knigh Before the opening morn."[2]

[2] Pinkerton gives only one verse of "Bertram the Archer," but Innerkepple's men did not require to be antiquaries.

Under the cover of the noise of the song, which was sung with baccha.n.a.lian glee, Katherine communicated her farther instructions to the man who had a.s.sumed the princ.i.p.al direction; and, retreating quickly, lest the wine merchant should come out and surprise her, she left the revellers to continue their work. She was soon again at her post at the window. The boon companions within the hall were still busy with their conversation and their wine; and by this time the shades of evening had begun to darken the view from the castle, and envelop the towers in gloom; the rooks had retired to rest, the owls had taken up the screech note which pains the sensitive ear of night, and the bats were beginning to flap their leathern wings on the rough sides of the old walls.

The sounds of the revellers in the court-yard began gradually to die away, and the strains of "Bertram the Archer" were limited to a weak repet.i.tion of the last lines, somewhat curtailed of their legitimate syllables:--

"And we will right our gallant knight Before the opening morn."

These indications of the effect of the wine increased, till, by-and-by, all seemed to be m.u.f.fled up in silence. The circ.u.mstance seemed to be noticed at once by the wine merchant; but he took no notice of it to Innerkepple whom he still continued to ply with the rich vintage. Kate's senses were all on the alert, and she watched every scene of the acting drama, set agoing by her own master mind. A noise was now heard at the door of the hall, as if some one wished to get in, but could not effect an opening.

"Who's there?" cried Kate, as she proceeded to open the door.

"It's me, your Leddyship's Honour," answered George, the seneschal, as he staggered, apparently in the last stage of drunkenness, into the hall.

"What means this?" cried Innerkepple, rising up, and not very well able to stand himself. "The warder o' my castle in that condition, an' a' our lives dependin' on his prudence!"

"Your Honour's maist forgiving pardon," said the warder. "I am come here, maist lordly Innerkepple"--hiccup--"to inform your Highness that a' the men o' the castle are lying in the base-court like swine. I am the only sober man in the hale menyie"--hic--hic. "But whar's the ferly?

The strength o' the Frenchman's wine would have floored the strongest hensure o' the Borders"--hiccup--"an' I would hae been like the rest, if I hadna been the keeper o' the keys o' Innerkepple."

("As well as Roscius, George," muttered Kate, as she, with a smile, contemplated the actor.)

"George, George, man," said the baron, "ye're just as bad as the rest.

You've been ower guid to them, Monsieur; but this _mooliness_, as ye ca'

it, has a' its dangers in thae times, when castles are surprised an'

taen like sleepin' mawkins in bushes o' broom. Awa to yer bed ahint the gratin', man, an' sleep aff the wine, as fast as it is possible for a drunk man to do."

George bowed, and staggered out of the hall, to betake himself to his couch.

"Aha! this is one sad misadventure," said the merchant. "I did not know there vas half so much strength in this vin. Let us see the jolly topers, mon n.o.ble Innerkepple. It is one grand vision to a vendeur of good vin to see the biberons lying on the ground, all _mouille_. Helas!

I was very wrong; but mon n.o.ble baron will forgive the grand fault of liberality."

The merchant rose, and, giving his arm to Innerkepple, who had some difficulty in steadying himself, proceeded towards the court, where they saw verified the report of the warder. The men were lying about the yard, apparently in a state of perfect insensibility. The wine measure was empty and overturned; several drinking horns lay scattered around; and everything betokened a deep debauch.

"This maun hae been potent liquor," said the baron, taking up one of the cups, in which a few drops remained, and drinking it. "Ha! man, puir gear after a'. A man micht drink three gallons o't, and dance to the tune o' Gilquhisker after he has finished. What's the meaning o' this?"

"Aha! your tongue is _mouille_, mon n.o.ble Innerkepple," said the merchant.

"It may be sae," replied the baron; "but it wasna made mooly, as ye denominate it, by drink like that. I canna understand it, Monsieur."

As he stood musing on the strange circ.u.mstance, he caught, by the light of a torch, the eye of Kate at the window, and felt his bewilderment increased by a leer in that dark bewitching orb, whose language appeared to him often--and never more so than at present--like Greek. His attention was next claimed by the merchant, who proposed that the men should be allowed to sleep out their inebriety where they lay. This proposition was reasonable; and it would, besides, operate as a proper punishment for their exceeding the limits of that prudence which their duty to their master required them to observe. The baron agreed to it, and, seeking again the support of the Frenchman's arm, he returned to the hall.

The night was now fast closing in. An old female domestic had placed lamps in the hall, and some supper was served up to the baron and the merchant. Kate retired, as she said, to her couch; but it may be surmised that an antechamber received her fair person, where she had something else to do than to sleep. The loud snoring of the men in the court-yard was heard distinctly, mixing with the screams of the owls that perched on the turrets. The two biberons sat down to partake of the supper, and prepare their stomachs, as Innerkepple said, for another bouse of the grand liquor. The conduct of the two carousers now a.s.sumed aspects very different from each other. The baron was gradually getting more easy and comfortable, while the merchant displayed an extreme restlessness and anxiety. The praises of his wine fell dead upon his ear, and the jokes of the good Innerkepple seemed to have become vapid and tiresome to him.

"That's a grand chorus in the court-yard, Monsieur," said the baron.

"Singing, snoring, groaning, are the three successive acts o' the wa.s.sailers. They would have been better engaged eating their supper.

Yah! I'm gettin' sleepy, Monsieur."

"Helas! helas!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the merchant. "You p.r.i.c.k my memory, mon n.o.ble Innerkepple. My poor mules! They have got no souper. Ah! cruel master that I am to forget the _pauvre_ animals that have got no language to tell their wants."

("So, so--the time approaches," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Kate, mentally, as she watched behind the door.)

"Pardon me, _mon cher_ baron," he continued, "I vill go and give them one leetle feed, and return to you _a present_. I have got beans in my hampers."