JOHN BURNET OF BARNS (continued 3)

But though it cheers me yet to tell of such fellows, and though it pleased me vastly to meet them in that distant land, it is not of such that I must write. As I have said, forbye attending the two classes of Greek and Latin, I resorted to the lectures of Master Wishart, who hailed from Fife, and had taught philosophy with much success among the Hollanders for some twenty years. He was well acquainted with my family, so what does he do but bid me to his house at Alphen one Saturday in the front of March. For he did not abide in Leyden, never having loved the ways of a town, but in the little village of Alphen, some seven miles to the northeast.

I accepted his bidding, for I had come there for no other cause than to meet and converse with men of learning and wisdom; so I bade Nicol have ready the two horses, which I had bought, at eleven o'clock in the forenoon. One of the twain was a bay mare, delicately stepping, with white pasterns and a patch of white on her forehead. The other was the heavier, reserved for Nicol and what baggage I might seek to carry, black and deep-chested, and more sedate than his comrade.

It was a clear, mild day when we set out, with no trace of frost, and but little cold. The roads were dry underfoot, and the horses stepped merrily, for they were fresh from long living indoors. The fields on either side were still bleak, but the sowers were abroad, scattering the seeds of the future harvest. The waters that we passed were alive with wild-fowl, which had wintered in the sea-marshes, and were now coming up to breed among the flags and rushes of the inland lakes. The tender green was sprouting on the trees, the early lark sang above the furrows, and the whole earth was full of the earnest of spring.

Alphen is a straggling line of houses by a canal. They are all well sized, and even with some pretension to gentility, with long gardens sloping to the water, and shady coverts of trees. Master Wishart's stood in the extreme end, apart from the rest, low-built, with a doorway with stuccoed pilasters. It was a place very pleasant to look upon, and save for its flatness, I could have found it in my heart to choose it for a habitation. But I am hill-bred, and must have rough, craggy land near me, else I weary of the finest dwelling. Master Wishart dwelt here, since he had ever a passion for the growing of rare flowers, and could indulge it better here than in the town of Leyden. He was used to drive in every second day in his great coach, for he lectured but three times a week.

A serving-man took my horse from me, and, along with Nicol, led them to the stable, having directed me where, in the garden, I should find my host. I opened a gate in a quickset hedge, and entered upon the most beautiful pleasure-ground that I had ever beheld. A wide, well-ordered lawn stretched straitly down to the very brink of the canal, and though, as was natural at that season of the year, the grass had not come to its proper greenness, yet it gave promise of great smoothness and verdure. To the side of this, again, there ran a belt of low wood, between which and the house was a green all laid out into flower beds, bright even at that early time with hyacinths and jonquils. Below this the low wood began again, and continued to the borders of the garden, full of the most delightsome alleys and shady walks. From one of these I heard voices, and going in that direction, I came of a sudden to a handsome arbour, at the side of which flowered the winter-jasmine, and around the door of which, so mild was the day, some half-dozen men were sitting.

My host, Master Wishart, was a short, spare man, with a long face adorned with a well-trimmed beard. He had the most monstrous heavy brows that I have ever seen, greater even than those of our Master Sandeman, of whom the students were wont to say that his eyebrows were heather-besoms. His eyes twinkled merrily when he spoke, and but for his great forehead no one might have guessed that he stood in the presence of one of the most noted of our schoolmen.

He rose and greeted me heartily, bidding me all welcome to Alphen, saying that he loved to see the sight of a Scots face, for was he not an exile here like the Jews by the waters of Babylon? "This is Master John Burnet of Barns," said he, presenting me to a very grave and comely man some ten years my senior, "who has come all the way from Tweedside to drink at our Pierian Spring." The other greeted me, looked kindly at me for a second, and then asked me some question of my family; and finding that a second cousin of his own on his mother's side had once married one of my race, immediately became very gracious, and condescended to tell me his opinions of the land, which were none so good. He was, as I did not know till later, Sir William Crichtoun of Bourhope; that Sir William who in after times was slain in the rout at Cromdale when the forces of Buchan and Cannon were caught unawares on the hillside.

I had leisure now to look around me at the others, and a motley group they were. There was Quentin Markelboch, the famous physician of Leyden, who had been pointed out to me in the street some days before, a little, round-bellied man with an eye of wondrous shrewdness. There was likewise Master Jardinius, who had lectured on philosophy at one time in the college, but had now grown too old for aught save sitting in the sun and drinking Schiedam—which, as some said, was no great pity. But the one I most marked was a little, fiery-eyed, nervous man, Pieter van Mieris by name, own cousin to the painter, and one who lived for nothing else than to fight abstruse metaphysical quarrels in defence of religion, which he believed to be in great peril from men of learning, and, but for his exertions on its behalf, to be unable to exist. It was he who first addressed me.

"I have heard that the true religion is wondrous pure in your land, Master Burnet, and that men yet worship God in simple fashion, and believe in Him without subtleties. Is that so, may I beg of you to tell me?"

"Ay," I answered, "doubtless they do, when they worship Him at all."

"Then the most pernicious heresy of the pervert Arminius has not yet penetrated to your shores, I trust, nor Pelagianism, which, of old, was the devil's wile for simple souls?"

"I have never heard of their names," I answered bluntly. "We folk in Scotland keep to our own ways, and like little to import aught foreign, be it heresy or strong ale."

"Then," said my inquisitor triumphantly, "you are not yet tainted with that most vile and pernicious heresy of all, with which one Baruch Spinoza, of accursed memory, has tainted this land?"

I roused myself at the name, for this was one I had heard often within the past few weeks, and I had a great desire to find out for myself the truth of his philosophy.

"I am ashamed to confess," I said, "that I have read none of his writings, that I scarcely know his name. But I would be enlightened in the matter."

"Far be it from me," said the little man earnestly, "to corrupt the heart of any man with so pernicious a doctrine. Rather close thy cars, young man, when you hear anyone speak his name, and pray to God to keep you from danger. 'Tis the falsest admixture of the Jewish heresy with the scum of ancient philosophy, the vain imaginings of man stirred up by the Evil One. The man who made it is dead, and gone to his account, but I would that the worthy magistrates had seen fit to gibbet him for a warning to all the fickle and light-minded. Faugh, I cannot bear to pollute my mouth with his name."

And here a new voice spoke.

"The man of whom you speak was so great that little minds are unable to comprehend him. He is dead, and has doubtless long since learned the truth which he sought so earnestly in life. I am a stranger, and I little thought to hear any Hollander speak ill of Baruch Spinoza, for though God, in his mercy, has given many good gifts to this land, He has never given a greater than him. I am no follower of his, as they who know me will bear witness, but I firmly believe that when men have grown wiser and see more clearly, his name will shine as one of the lights of our time, brighter, may be, even than the great Cartesius."

The speaker was but newly come, and had been talking with my host when he heard the declamation of Master van Mieris. I turned to look at him and found a tall, comely man, delicately featured, but with a chin as grim as a marshal's. He stood amid the crowd of us with such an easy carriage of dignity and breeding that one and all looked at him in admiration. His broad, high brow was marked with many lines, as if he had schemed and meditated much. He was dressed in the pink of the fashion, and in his gestures and tones I fancied I discerned something courtier-like, as of a man who had travelled and seen much of courts and kingships. He spoke so modestly, and withal so wisely, that the unhappy Pieter looked wofully crestfallen, and would not utter another word.

A minute later, finding Master Wishart at hand, I plucked him by the sleeve.

"Tell me, who is that man there, the one who spoke?"

"Ah," said he, "you do not know him, perhaps you do not know his name; but be sure that when you are old you will look back upon this day with pleasure, and thank Providence for bringing you within sight of such a man. That is the great Gottfried Leibnitz, who has been dwelling for a short space in London, and now goes to Hanover as Duke Frederick's councillor."

But just at this moment all thoughts of philosophy and philosophers were banished from my mind by the sudden arrival of a new guest. This was no other than the worthy professor of Greek, Master Quellinus, who came in arrayed in the coarsest clothes, with a gigantic basket suspended over his shoulders by a strap, and a rod like a weaver's beam in his hand. In truth the little man presented a curious sight. For the great rod would not stay balanced on his shoulders, but must ever slip upward and seriously endanger the equipoise of its owner. His boots were very wide and splashed with mud, and round the broad-brimmed hat which he wore I discerned many lengths of horsehair. My heart warmed to the man, for I perceived he was a fellow-fisherman, and, in that strange place, it was the next best thing to being a fellow Scot.

He greeted us with great joviality. "A good day to you, my masters," he cried; "and God send you the ease which you love. Here have I been bearing the heat and burden of the day, all in order that lazy folk should have carp to eat when they wish it. Gad, I am tired and wet and dirty, this last beyond expression. For Heaven's sake, Master Wishart, take me where I may clean myself."

The host led the fisherman away, and soon he returned, spruce and smiling once more. He sat down heavily on a seat beside me. "Now, Master Burnet," says he, "you must not think it unworthy of a learned Grecian to follow the sport of the angle, for did not the most famous of their writers praise it, not to speak of the example of the Apostles?"

I tried hard to think if this were true.

"Homer, at any rate," I urged, "had no great opinion of fish and their catchers, though that was the worse for Homer, for I am an angler myself, and can understand your likings."

"Then I will have your hand on it," said he, "and may Homer go to the devil. But Theocritus and Oppian, ay, even Plato, mention it without disrespect, and does not Horace himself say 'Piscemur'? Surely we have authority."

But this was all the taste I had of my preceptor's conversation, for he had been walking all day in miry ways, and his limbs were tired: nor was I surprised to see his head soon sink forward on his breast; and in a trice he was sleeping the sleep of the just and labouring man.

And now we were joined by a newcomer, no less than Mistress Kate Wishart, as pretty a lass as you will see in a day's journey. She had been nurtured by her father amid an aroma of learning, and, truly, for a maid, she was wondrous learned, and would dispute and cite instances with a fine grace and a skill which astonished all. To me, who am country-bred and a trifle over-fastidious, she seemed a thought pedantic and proud of her knowledge; but what is hateful in a hard-featured woman is to be pardoned in a fresh lass. Her father brought me to her and presented me, which she acknowledged with a courtsey which became her mightily; but I spoke not two words to her, for the old man led me away down one of the alleys among the trees.

"Kate'll look after thae auld dotterels," said he, speaking in the broadest Scots; "I brocht her out that I micht get a word wi' ye my lane, for I'm fair deein' for news frae the auld country. First of a', how is Saunders Blackett at Peebles? Him and me were aince weel acquant." And when I had told him, he ran off into a string of inquiries about many folk whom I knew, and whom he once had known, which I answered according to my ability.

"And now," he says, "I've bidden twa-three o' the officers o' the Scots brigade to supper the nicht, so ye'll see some guid Scots physiogs after thae fosy Dutchmen. Ye'll maybe ken some o' them."

I thanked him for his consideration, and after I had answered his many questions, we returned to the others, whom I found busily arguing some point in divinity, with Mistress Kate very disgusted in their midst.

"Gang intil the house wi' my dochter, John," said Master Wishart, and, giving her my arm, I did as I was bid, while the others straggled after in twos and threes.

CHAPTER III

THE STORY OF A SUPPER PARTY

My first thought on entering the supper-room was one of amazement. The owner of the house, whom I had taken to be a man of simple tastes, here proved himself to be a very Caliph for magnificence. Many choice paintings looked down at us from the sides, richly framed, and fitting into recesses in the panelled walls. The floor was laid with bright-dyed rugs and carpets of Venetian stuff, and the chairs and couches were of finely carven wood. The whole was lit with a long line of waxen candles in silver sconces, which disputed the sovereignty with the departing daylight. But the choicest sight was the table which was laden, nay heaped, with rich dishes and rare meats, while in the glass and metal flagons the wine danced and flamed. I was of country-bred habits, and the display at first all but took the breath from me; indeed it was not a little time ere I could take my eyes from it and turn them on the assembled guests.

Those who had not been present in the garden were gathered at the lower end of the room, whither the master of the place betook himself to greet them. I marked two or three of the burgher folk by their dress and well-filled bellies, contrasting strangely with the lean figure of a minister who stood among them clothed in some decent, dark stuff, and wearing white bands ostentatiously. There were also some of the officers in the Scots regiment, at least of that portion of it which was then lying at Leyden. Their dress was sober compared with the richness of such soldiery as I had seen in my own land, but against the attire of the citizens, it was gaudiness itself.

I found myself sitting close to the head of the table, on the right hand of my host, betwixt a portly doctor of laws and my worthy Master Quellinus. This latter was now all but recovered from his fatigue, having slept soundly in the arbour. He was in a high good humour at the sight of the many varied dishes before him, and cried out their merits to me in a loud, excited tone, which made my cheeks burn. "There," he cried, "there is the dish I love above all others. 'Tis hashed venison with young herbs, and sour wine for a relish. Ah, I have already enjoyed it in anticipation. In a few seconds I shall have enjoyed it in reality. Therefore I argue I have gained two pleasures from it, whereas men of no imagination have but one. And, God bless my eyes! do I see a plate of stewed eels over there before that thick man in the brown coat? Gad! I fear he will devour them all himself, for he looks to have capacity and judgment. Plague take him, I am in a very torment of anxiety. Prithee, my good John, seek out a servant and bid him bring it over here." I know not how far he might have gone, had not all talking been put an end to by the minister arising and saying a lengthy Latin grace. In the midst of it I stole a glance at my neighbour, and his face wore so comical an expression of mingled disgust and eagerness that I could scarcely refrain from laughing. But all did not conduct themselves so well, for there was a great disputation going on among some of the regiment which much hindered the effect of the minister's Latin. Indeed, I believe had he spoken another dozen words, the patience of some would have gone altogether.

"Now," said Master Wishart from the head of the table, "I trust, gentlemen, that ye may find the entertainment to your liking. Fall to heartily, for this weather gives a keen edge to the appetite. Occupet extremum scabies, as Horatius hath it; which being translated into the vulgar idiom is 'Deil tak the hin-most.' Know you that proverb, John? Come, Master Quellinus, set to, man, ye've had a serious day's work, and our fleshly tabernacles will not subsist on nothing," adding in an undertone to me, "though it's little pressing ye need, for to press ye to eat is like giving a shog to a cairt that's fa'in ower the Castle Rock."

I paid little heed to Master Quellinus's conversation, which ran chiefly on viands, or to that of my left-hand neighbour, whose mouth was too full for words. But I found great entertainment in watching the faces and listening to the speech of some of the other guests. The table was wide and the light dim, so that I had much ado to make out clearly those opposite me. I marked Mistress Kate, very daintily dressed, talking gaily to some one at her side.

"Well, to tell you the truth, my dear Mistress Kate, this land of yours is not very much to my liking. To be sure a soldier is contented wherever his duty calls him, but there is no fighting to be done, and the sport is not what I have found it elsewhere. I am in such a devilish strict place that, Gad, I cannot have a game with a fat citizen without having to listen to a rigmarole of half an hour's duration on the next morning. There is so much psalm-singing in the place that an honest gentleman can scarcely raise a merry song without having his voice stopped by half a dozen sour-faced knaves. 'Faith, I wish I were back in my own land, where there is some work for a cavalier. There is but one thing that I should except," and he bowed low to his neighbour, "the women, who are as beautiful as the men-folk are hideous. Though, in truth, I believe that the most lovely of them all is a countrywoman of my own"; and again he made her a fine bow.

The voice and the tone were strangely familiar, but for the life of me, I could not give them a name. I could only note that the man was a big, squarely-made fellow, and that he seemed to be in a mind to make love to his host's daughter. She made some blushing reply to his compliments, and then, as luck would have it, a servant set a light between us, and the faces of both were revealed clearly to me.

I sat bolt upright in my chair with sheer astonishment. For there, dressed in the habiliments of the Scots regiment, and bearing himself with all his old braggadocio, sat my cousin Gilbert.

Then I remembered how I had heard that he had gone abroad to some foreign service, partly to escape the consequences of some scrapes into which he had fallen, partly to get rid of his many debts. And here he was, coming to the one place in Europe to which I had chosen to go, and meeting me at the one table which I had chosen to frequent. In that moment I felt as if the man before me were bound up in some sinister way with my own life.

Almost at the same instant he turned his eyes upon me, and we stared in each other's face. I saw him start, bend his head toward his companion and ask some question. I judged it to be some query about my name and doings, for the next moment he looked over to me and accosted me with a great semblance of hilarity.

"What," he cries. "Do I see my cousin John? I had not dared to hope for such a welcome meeting. How came you here?" And he asked me a string of questions.

I answered shortly and with no great cordiality, for I still remembered the doings in Tweeddale, and my heart was still sore in the matter of my father's death. Forbye this, Gilbert spoke with not a little covert scorn in his tone, which I, who knew his ways well, was not slow to detect. It nettled me to think that I was once more to be made to endure the pleasantries of my cousin.

"And how goes all in Tweeddale, my dear cousin?" said he. "I condole with you on your father's death. Ah, he was a good man indeed, and there are few like him nowadays. And how does Tam Todd, my friend, who has such a thick skull and merciless arm? And ah, I forgot! Pray forgive my neglect. How is fair Mistress Marjory, the coy maid who would have none of my courtesies?"

The amazing impudence of the fellow staggered me. It almost passed belief that he should speak thus of my father whose death had lain so heavily at his door. This I might have pardoned; but that at a public table he should talk thus of my love irritated me beyond measure. I acted as I do always when thus angered: I gave him a short answer and fell into a state of moody disquietude.

Meanwhile my cousin, with all the gallantry in the world, kept whispering his flatteries into the pretty ears of Mistress Kate. This was ever Gilbert's way. He would make love to every tavern wench and kiss every village lass on his course. 'Twas a thing I never could do. I take no credit for the omission, for it is but the way God makes a man. Whenever I felt in the way to trying it, there was always Marjory's face to come before my eyes and make me think shame of myself.

As I sat and watched these twain I had no eyes for any other. The very sight of Gilbert brought back to me all my boyhood in Tweedside, and a crowd of memories came surging in upon me. I fancied, too, that there was something of Marjory in the little graceful head at my cousin's elbow, and the musical, quick speech. I felt wretchedly jealous of him, God knows why; for the sight of him revived any old fragments which had long lain lurking in the corners of my mind; and as he chatted gaily to the woman at his side, I had mind of that evening at Barns when I, just returned from Glasgow college, first felt the lust of possession. I sat and moodily sipped my wine. Why had I ever left my own land and suffered my lady to be exposed to manifold perils? for with the first dawnings of jealousy and anger came a gnawing anxiety. I had never felt such a sickness for home before, and I cursed the man who had come to ruin my peace of mind. Yet my feeling toward my cousin was not that of hatred; indeed I could not refrain from a certain pity for the man, for I discerned in him much noble quality, and was he not of my own blood?

"Come now," I heard Mistress Kate simper, "I do not believe that tale of anyone, and above all, of him; for a soberer does not live. Fie, fie, Master Gilbert, I took you for a more generous man."

"On my faith, my dear, it is true," replied my cousin. "For all his docile looks, he is as fond of a game as the rest of us."

Now I guessed that my frolicsome cousin had been traducing me to the fair Kate, and I grew not a little hot. But his next word changed my heat into fierce anger. For my cousin continued:

"What saith the Latin poet?" and he quoted a couplet from Martial—a jest at the usual amusements of the seemingly decent man.

I know not where he had got hold of it, for he was no scholar; but it was full of the exceeding grossness which is scarcely to be found outside that poet. He thought, I could guess, that the girl understood no Latin, but, as I knew, she had a special proficiency in that tongue. She understood the jest only too well. A deep blush grew over her face from her delicate throat to the very borders of her hair. 'Twas just in such a way that Marjory had looked when I first told her my love; 'twas in such a fashion she had bade me farewell. The thought of her raised a great storm of passion in my heart against anyone who would dare thus to put a woman to shame. I strove hard to curb it, but I felt with each second that it would overmaster me.

"Well, John, what think you of my Latinity?" asked my cousin from over the table.

"I think, I think," I cried, "that you are a damned scurrilous fellow, a paillard, a hound; 'fore God, Gilbert, I will make you smart for this," and, ere I well knew what I did, I had seized my glass and hurled it at his head.

It struck him on the cheek, scratching the skin, but doing little hurt.

In a trice he was on his feet with his hand at his sword. One half the table rose and stared at the two of us, while Master Wishart left the head and came rushing to the back of my chair. As for myself, I felt such desperate shame at my conduct that I knew not what to do. I had now made a fool of myself in downright earnest. I felt my cheek tingling and flaming, but I could do naught but look before me.

Then my cousin did a thing which gave him great honour, and completed my shame; for bridling his anger, as I saw with a mighty effort, he said calmly, though his arms were quivering with rage:

"I would ask you to be more careful in your use of glasses. See, yours has flown right over to me and played havoc with my cheek. 'Faith, it is no light duty to sup opposite you, mon ami. But, indeed, gentlemen," and he bowed to the company, "'twas but an unfortunate mischance."

At this all sat down again, and scarce five minutes after, Gilbert rose to leave, and with him the other gentlemen of his regiment. Master Wishart bade him sit down again, for the night was yet young, but my cousin would not be persuaded. He nodded carelessly to me, kissed his hand to pretty Mistress Kate, and swaggered out.

I sat dazed and meditative. I was raw to many things, but I knew well that Gilbert was not the man to sit down under such an affront. He had shielded me for his own reasons, of which I guessed that family pride was not the least; but he would seek a meeting with all dispatch. And, in truth, I was not averse to it, for I had many accounts to settle with my dear cousin. I fell to thinking about the details of the matter. In all likelihood he would come on the Monday, for the Sabbath was a day of too strict propriety in this land as in my own, to allow of the settling of any such business. Well, come when he might, I should be ready; and I rose from the table, for the sooner I was back in Leyden, the better.

I took farewell of my host, and he could not refrain from whispering in my ear at parting: "Jock, Jock, my man, ye've made a bonny mess o't. Ye'll hae to fecht for it, and see ye dae't weel."

Nicol was waiting at the gate with the horses, and, together, we turned on our homeward way.

CHAPTER IV

OUR ADVENTURE ON THE ALPHEN ROAD

We rode in silence for maybe half a mile, while I turned over the events of the evening in my mind and tried to find some way out of the difficulties in which, by my own folly, I found myself placed. Nicol looked steadfastly before him and said never a word. By and by I found the desire for some one to speak with so overpowering that I up and asked him if he had heard aught of the events of the evening.

"Ay, sir," said he, "I heard ye had some kind o' stramash, but that was a'. I trust ye're weel oot o't."

"Have you heard of my cousin Gilbert?" I asked.

"The wastland lad wha used to come aboot the Barns? Oh, aye! I've heard o' him."

"I flung a glass at his face to-night," said I.

"I hope, sir, that he flung anither at yoursel'?" he asked anxiously.

"No. He swallowed the insult and left soon after. He is not the man to let me off so easily."

"Whew," said Nicol, "but that's bad. Wad ye mind, Laird, if I rode on afore ye?"

"Why?" I asked.

"Cousins and sodger-folk are kittle cattle," said he. "I wadna wonder noo but that Maister Gilbert were ahint a dyke. I've heard tell o' some o' his pliskies in his ain land, and he's no the lad to let a midge stick in his throat."

I drew up my horse angrily.

"Nicol," I cried, "you are intolerable. My cousin is a gentleman of birth, and do you think he is the man to kill from a dyke-side? Fie on you, you have the notions of a common roost-robber."

"Weel, away then, my lord," cries he. "So be it; but I've little faith in your Gilberts for a' their gentrice. I ken their breed ower weel. But I maun ride afore ye, for there are some gey rough bits on the road, and I'm a wee bit mair sure in the saddle than yoursel, wi' a' respect to your lairdship."

So the wilful fellow must needs ride before me, looking sharply to the right and left as though we were in far Muscovy instead of peaceful Holland.

As for me, I felt in no humour to listen to my servant's tales or do aught than think dolefully on my own matters. The sight of my cousin and of Mistress Kate had made me sore sick for home, and I could have found it in my heart once and again to take ship at the next sailing for Leith. But these thoughts I choked down, for I felt that they were unbecoming to any man. Yet I longed for Marjory as never lover longed for his mistress. Her bright hair was ever before my sight, and her last words on that February evening rang always in my head. I prayed to God to watch over her as I rode through the stiff poplars on the way to Leyden.

As for my quarrel, I cared not a straw for Gilbert and his ill-will, it having never been my nature to be timorous toward men. Nay, I looked forward to meeting him with no little pleasure, for it had long been an open question which of the twain was best at the sword-play.

"Maister John," said Nicol, suddenly turning round, "I saw twae men creeping roond thae scrunts o' trees. I wis they maunna be after ony ill." We were by this time nearing a black, inhospitable part of the land, where the road ran across a moor all covered with ferns and rushes and old trunks of trees.

"Ride on," said I; "if we turned for every man that crosses the path, we should never leave our own threshold."

He did as he was ordered, and our horses being put to the canter, covered the ground gallantly, and our stirrup-chains clinked in the silent night.

Suddenly, to my amazement, I saw Nicol fling himself back in the saddle while his horse stumbled violently forward. It was one of the most ingenious feats of horsemanship that I have ever witnessed. The beast stood quivering, his ears erect with fright, while I rode alongside.

"For God's sake, sir, take care," Nicol cried. "There's some damned thing ower the road, and if I hadna been on the watch it wad hae been a' ower wif yae guid man. Watch, for ye may get a shot in your belly any meenute."

Now, as it chanced, it was that lively canter which saved us, for the rogues who had set the trap had retired a good way, not expecting us so early. At the sound of the stumble they came rushing up from among the fern, and, ere I knew, a pistol shot cracked past my ears, and another and another.

Two went wide; one hit my horse on the ear and made him unmanageable, so that I sat there with my beast plunging and kicking, at the mercy of whosoever had a fourth pistol.

Nicol spoke not a word, but turning his horse, dashed forward in the direction whence the shots had come. As it fell out, it was the best thing that anyone could have done, for the robbers, not expecting any such assault, were preparing to fire again. As it was, the forefeet of the horse took one villain on the chest, knocking him senseless and well-nigh trampling the life out of him. A second gripped Nicol by the sleeve, and attempted to drag him from the saddle; which plan would doubtless have succeeded had not my servant, pulling the pistol (which was not loaded) from his holsters, presented it at the man's head with such effect that the fellow in fear of his life let go and fled across the moor.

By this time I had reduced my own animal to something like submission. I rode after Nicol and came up just in time to see the third man of the band (there were but three; for doubtless they trusted to their trap for unhorsing if not stunning us) engaged in a desperate struggle. Nicol had him by the throat with one hand and was endeavouring to squeeze the breath out of him, while he in turn had his opponent by the other arm, which he was twisting cruelly. Had my servant been on foot the matter would soon have ended, for the throat fared badly which those long wiry hands once encircled; but being on horseback he dared not lean forward lest he should lose his seat. My appearance settled it; for the robber, freeing himself at one desperate leap, made off at the top of his speed, leaving his pistols behind him. There remained but the one whom Nicol's horse had deprived of his senses.

Unfortunately the blow had not been a very severe one, for he was not long in coming to himself. There was some water in a little stagnant pool near at hand which Nicol dashed in his face, and in a little the man opened his eyes and looked up.

At the sight of us he started, and the events of the past half hour came back to his memory. Then a look of sullen, obstinate anger came into his face, and he lay still, waiting for events to take their course.

"Who are you?" I asked.

He made no answer.

I repeated the question several times, and still the man kept his silence.

"Ye donnert scoondrel," cried Nicol, "tell us whae ye are, or ye'll hang the morn on the gallows-hill at Leyden."

Still the fellow would not speak.

"Let's tie him up," said Nicol, "and I'll ride wi' him on the horse afore me. He'll get justice when we win to the toun."

But this was not my policy. I had other things to think of than bringing marauders to trial. A sudden thought struck me.

"I will try him another way," said I to Nicol. "Do you stand aside."

The man lay on the ground where my servant's horse had thrown him, with a belt round his legs, and his arms knotted together. I went up to him, and stood over.

"Do you know who I am?" I asked sternly, in as tragic a voice as I could assume.

The man stared sulkily, but did not speak.

"You fool," I cried, "do you think that thus you will circumvent me? Know that I am the great doctor, Joannes Burnetus of Lugdunum, skilled in all arts of earth and heaven, able to tell divinations and prophecies, learned in all magic and witchery. I know all that thou hast done since thy birth, and thy father and grandsire before thee, all the wickedness which shall entitle thee to eternal damnation in that place which the Devil is even now preparing for thee. Yea, I can tell thee the very death which thou shalt die——"

"Stop, stop," cried the fellow, "O most learned sir, spare me. I know thou knowest all things. I confess my sins, and oh, I promise you I shall mend my ways. Stop, I pray."

"There is still one ray of hope for thee," said I, "but I cannot give my word that thou shalt ever gain it, for thou hast advanced too far in sin already. But yet thou mayest escape, and there is but one way to set about it—namely, to tell me of all thy wickedness. I adjure thee, by the sacred sign Tekel, which the Chaldaeans used of old; by Men, which was the sign of the Egyptians; by the Eikon of the Greeks; by the Lar of the Romans. I summon thee by the holy names of God, Tetragrammaton, Adonay, Algramay, Saday, Sabaoth, Planaboth, Pantbon, Craton, Neupmaton, Deus, Homo, Omnipotens; by Asmath, the name of the Evil One, who is lord over thee and my slave—I summon thee to tell me all thy deeds."

The man was frightened past all telling. He tried to crawl to my knees, and began a recital of all manner of crimes and peccadilloes, from his boyhood till the present hour. I listened without interest.

"Had any Scot a part with thee in this night's work?" I asked.

"No, there was none. There were but Bol and Delvaux beside myself, both Dutch born and bred."

My mind was lightened. I never really believed my cousin to have had any part in such a matter, but I was glad to know it for truth.

"You may go now," I said, "go and repent, and may God blast thee with all his fire if thou turnest thy hand to evil again. By the bye, thy name? I must have it from thy own lips."

"Jan Hamman, your lordship," said he.

"Well, God pity thee, Jan Hamman, if ever I lay my hand on thee again. Be off now."

He was off in a twinkling, running for his very life. Nicol and I remounted, and rode onward, coming to Leyden at the hour of one on the Sabbath morning—a thing which I much regretted.

CHAPTER V

THE FIRST SUNDAY OF MARCH

I slept late on the next morning, so that it was near nine o'clock ere I was up and dressed. By the time that I broke my fast I had had some leisure to reflect upon the events of the preceding night and the consequences which should ensue. Nicol came to me as soon as the meal was over, and together we sat down to consult.

"This is the Sabbath, your honour," said Nicol, "so ye may consider yoursel' free for the day at ony rate."

"Not so free," said I, for I knew my cousin Gilbert. "The men I've to deal with have no more respect for the Lord's day than you have for a Popish fast, so we must put that out of account."

"Weel, weel," said Nicol, "if that's sae it maun be sae. Will ye gang oot wi' him the day?"

"No," said I, "not that I am caring for the day, for you mind the proverb, 'the better the day the better the work,' but, being in a foreign land, I am loth to break with the customs of my country. So we'll keep the Sabbath, Nicol my lad, and let Gilbert whistle."

Now I would not have him who may read this narrative think, from my conduct on this occasion, that I was whiggishly inclined, for, indeed, I cared naught about such little matters. I would have a man use the Sabbath like any other day, saving that, as it seems to me, it is a day which may profitably be used for serious reading and meditation. But I was ever of a curious disposition, liking to be always in mind of Tweeddale and the folk there, so that I kept the Sabbath during my life abroad as strictly as a covenanting minister on the moors of Ayr.

"Weel, Laird, that means ye'll no see the body though he comes," said Nicol, "and, God help me, if ye dae that there'll be a terrible stramash at the street door. I'se warrant auld Mistress Vanderdecker 'll get her ribs knockit in if she tries to keep them oot."

"They can make all the noise they please," said I hotly, "but if it comes to that the two of us are as good as their bit officers. I ask for nothing better than to take some of the pride out of Gilbert's friends with the flat of my sword. Then if they come to-day and are refused entrance, they will come back to-morrow, and all will be well."

"Then what am I to dae? When the bodies come to the door, I'm to say, 'His lordship's compliments, but his lordship's busy keeping the Sabbath in his upper chamber, and if ye will come back the morn he'll look into your claims.' 'Faith, it's awfu' like auld Sanders Blackett, the lawyer at Peebles, when I gaed to him seeking the law o' the miller o' Rachan. It was about nine o'clock yae winter's nicht when I got there, and Sanders was at supper. He stappit his heid oot o' the window and, says he, 'Gang awa', my man, and come back the morn. I'm busy takin' the books.' But I saw by the een o' him that he was daein' nae siccan thing. 'Oh,' says I, 'if ye ca' kippered saumon and schnapps the books, I'm content. I'll just come in and help ye to tak them tae.' But he says verra angry, 'Go away, ye impious man, lest the judgment of Heaven light upon you. I've godly Maister Clovenclaws assisting me in the solemn ordinance.' 'Awa' wi' your Clovenclaws,' says I, 'I've come ten mile to speak wi' ye, and I'll no gang hame wi'oot it.' But I was just thinkin' I would have to gang back after a', when a voice comes frae the inside, 'Sanders, ye limb o' the deil, whaur's the sugar?' I kenned Maister Clovenclaws' voice ower weel, so Sanders begins to think that it wadna dae to let it be telled a' ower the toun that him and the minister had been birling at the wine thegither. So 'Come in, Maister Plenderleith,' says he verra cannily, and in I gaed, and sic a nicht's drinking I never saw. I put Sanders in his bed, honest man, about twae o'clock i' the morning, and syne Clovenclaws and me gaed at it till daylicht. I wantit to see the body below the table afore I gaed, and he wantit to see me, so we sat at it till I was fain to drap for very decency's sake. So what does the man dae but lift me on his shouther and walk as straucht ower to the manse as if he were new oot o' his bed; and there he gied me some guid advice about no presumin' to contend wi' my superiors, and let me oot at a back door. 'Faith, it was an awfu' time."

"You will say to them that I am busy with other work, and that I will be glad to see them to-morrow about the matter they know of. Most like they will go away quietly, and if they do not it will be the worse for their own skins. You take my meaning?"

"I'll dae your orders, sir, to the letter," said Nicol, and I was well aware that he would.

I got my books out and set to work to read the gospel of John in Greek for my spiritual benefit, but I made little speed. This was mainly the fault of Nicol, who every few minutes came into the little room where I sat, on some feigned errand. I soon divined the reason, for the same chamber contained a great window, whence one might view the whole length of the narrow street wherein the house was situate, and even some little portion of the great Breedestraat at the head. It was plain that my servant was not a little concerned on my account.

"Are ye sure that your honour's guid wi' the small-swird?" he asked mournfully. "If this room were a wee bit braider and the day no what it is I micht gie ye a lesson."

I did not know whether to laugh or to be angry. "Why, you rascal," I cried, "do you know anything of these matters? There are many better swordsmen than I in the world, but I think I am more than a match for you."

"Weel," said Nicol modestly, "I've gien some folk a gey fricht wi' the swird, but let that be. I'll be blithe if ye get the better o' him and a waefu' man I'll be if he kills ye. Lord, what 'll I dae? I'll hae to become a sodger in this heathen land, or soom hame, whilk is a thing I am no capable o'." And he began to sing with a great affectation of grief:

The craw killed the pussie O,

The craw killed the pussie O,

The wee bit kittlin' sat and grat

In Jennie's wee bit hoosie O.

—in which elegant rhyme the reader will observe that my cousin stood for the crow, I for the pussie, and my servant for the kittlin'.

I laughed; but it is not seemly to stand by while your own servant sings a song which compares you to a cat, so I straightway flung a Greek lexicon at his head, and bade him leave the room. I much regretted the act, for it was my only copy of the book, Master Struybroek's, and the best obtainable, and by the fall some leaves came out, and one, [Greek: polypenthés] to [Greek: polypous], has not been renewed to this day.

After Nicol had gone I amused myself by looking out of the window and watching the passers-by. Some, sober Dutch citizens with Bibles beneath their arms and their goodly persons habited in decent black, were striding solemnly to church, while their wives and children came more slowly behind. Others of the lighter sort were wandering aimlessly on no purpose but their own pleasure, but all I marked were dressed out in their finest clothes. What I noted most of all was the greater colour in the streets than we have in our own land. For there, you will see little but blacks and drabs and browns, while here the women were often gaily arrayed in bright tints which gave a pleasing look to the causeway.

I had not sat long when I noted two gentlemen coming down the alley from the Breedestraat, very finely clad, and with a great air of distinction in their faces. They kept the causeway in such a fashion that all whom they met had to get into the middle of the road to let them pass. I half guessed their errand, the more as the face of one of them seemed to me familiar, and I fancied that he had been one of the guests at the supper at Alphen. My guess was confirmed by their coming to a halt outside the door of my lodging and attentively considering the house. Meantime all their actions were plain to my view from the upper window.

One of them stepped forward and knocked loudly. Now I had bidden Nicol be ready to open to them and give my message. So I was not surprised when I heard the street door opened and the voice of my servant accosting the men.

I know not what he said to them, but soon words grew high and I could see the other come forward to his comrade's side. By and by the door was slammed violently, and my servant came tearing upstairs. His face was flushed in wrath.

"O' a' the insolent scoondrels I ever met, thae twae are the foremost. They wadna believe me when I telled them ye were busy. 'Busy at what?' says the yin. 'What's your concern?' says I. 'If ye dinna let us up to see your maister in half a twinkling,' says the ither, 'by God we'll make ye.' 'Make me!' says I; 'come on and try it. If it wasna for your mither's sake I wal tie your necks thegither.'"

"Nicol," I said, "bring these men up. It will be better to see them." My intention changed of a sudden, for I did not seek to carry my finicking too far.

"I was thinkin' sae, your honour," said Nicol, "but I didna like to say it."

So in a little the two gentlemen came up the stairs and into my room, where I waited to receive them.

"Gentlemen," said I, "I believe you have some matter to speak of with me."

"Why do you keep such scoundrelly servants, Master Burnet?" said one, whom I knew for Sir James Erskine of Tullo.

"Your business, gentlemen," I said, seeking to have done with them. They were slight men, whom I could have dropped out of the window; most unlike the kind of friends I should have thought my cousin Gilbert would have chosen.

"Well, if you will have our business," said the elder, speaking sulkily, "you are already aware of the unparalleled insult to which a gentlemen of our regiment was subjected at your hands?"

"Oh, yes," I said gaily, "I had forgotten. I broke Gilbert's head with a wine-glass. Does he want to ask my pardon?"

"You seem to take the matter easily, sir," said one severely. "Let me tell you that Master Gilbert Burnet demands that you meet him at once and give satisfaction with your sword."

"Right," I cried, "I am willing. At what hour shall it be? Shall we say seven o'clock to-morrow's morning? That is settled then? I have no second and desire none. There is the length of my sword. Carry my compliments to my cousin, and tell him I shall be most pleased to chastise him at the hour we have named. And now, gentlemen, I have the honour to wish you a very good day," and I bowed them out of the room.

They were obviously surprised and angered by my careless reception of their message and themselves. With faces as flushed as a cock's comb they went down stairs and into the street, and I marked that they never once looked back, but marched straight on with their heads in the air.

"Ye've gien thae lads a flee in their lug," said Nicol. "I wish ye may gie your cousin twae inches o' steel in his vitals the morn."

"Ah," said I, "that is a different matter. These folk were but dandified fools. My cousin is a man and a soldier."

The rest of the day I spent in walking by myself in the meadows beyond the college gardens, turning over many things in my mind. I had come to this land for study, and lo! ere I well knew how, I was involved in quarrels. I felt something of a feeling of shame in the matter, for the thing had been brought on mainly by my over-fiery temper. Yet when I pondered deeply I would not have the act undone, for a display of foolish passion was better in my eyes than the suffering of an insult to a lady to pass unregarded.

As for the fight on the morrow I did not know whether to await it with joy or shrinking. As I have said already, I longed to bring matters between the two of us to a head. There was much about him that I liked; he had many commendable virtues; and especially he belonged to my own house. But it seemed decreed that he should ever come across my path, and already there was more than one score laid up against him in my heart. I felt a strange foreboding of the man, as if he were my antithesis, which certain monkish philosophers believed to accompany everyone in the world. He was so utterly different from me in all things; my vices he lacked and my virtues; his excellencies I wanted, and also, I trust, his faults. I felt as if the same place could not contain us.

If I conquered him, the upshot would be clear enough. He could not remain longer in Leyden. His reputation, which was a great one, would be gone, and he would doubtless change into some other regiment and retire from the land. If, again, he had the vantage of me, I had no reputation to lose, so I might remain where I pleased. So he fought with something of a disadvantage. It was possible that one or other might be killed; but I much doubted it, for we were both too practised swordsmen to butcher like common cutthroats. Nevertheless, I felt not a little uneasy, with a sort of restlessness to see the issue of it all—not fear, for though I have been afraid many times in my life it was never because of meeting a man in fair combat.

Toward evening I returned to my lodging and devoted the remainder of the day to the study of the books of Joshua and Judges for the comforting of my soul.

CHAPTER VI

THE FIRST MONDAY OF MARCH

Nicol wakened me before dawn and I made haste to get ready. I looked to see that my sword was in fit condition, for it was a stout cut-and-thrust blade of the kind which speedily takes the rust. Then having taken a draught of strong ale to brace my nerves for the encounter, I left the house and set off with my servant for the college gardens.

The morning was clear and fresh. The sun had not yet fully arisen, but it was light enough to see two hundred yards before me. A sharp wind fluttered my cloak, and sent a thrill of strength through me, for it minded me of the hill breezes which were wont to blow on the heights of Scrape. There was scarce anyone stirring save a few drowsy burghers whom it behoved to be attending to their business in the early morn. I kept my cloak well over my face, for I did not relish the notion of being recognised by anyone on my errand.

Now, from the college gardens there stretches down to the great canal a most beautiful pleasaunce, all set with flower beds and fountains. Beyond this, again, is a more rugged land—a grove with great patches of grass in it, and here it was that gentlemen of the Scots regiment were wont to settle their differences. The morning had been chosen as the time when it was less likely that some interloping busybody might interrupt us.

I cannot tell how I felt as I walked through the cool morning air among the young herbs and trees which still bore the dew upon them. It minded me so keenly of the mornings at home in Tweeddale, when I was used to rise before daylight and go far up Tweed with my rod, and bring back, if my luck were good, great baskets of trout. Now I was bound on a different errand. It was even possible that I might see my own land no more. But this thought I dismissed as unworthy of one who would be thought a cavalier.

In time we came to the spot which the others had fixed on. There I found my men already waiting me; my cousin stripped to his sark and small-clothes, with his blade glimmering as he felt its edge; his companions muffled up in heavy cloaks and keeping guard over Gilbert's stripped garments. They greeted me shortly as I came up, so without more ado I took off my coat and vest, and gave them into my servant's keeping. Then going up co my opponent I took his hand.

"Let there be no malice between us, Gilbert," said I. "I was rash maybe, but I am here to give account of my rashness."

"So be it, cousin," he said, as he took my hand coldly.

We both stepped back a pace and crossed swords, and in a trice we had fallen to.

My first thought, and I am not ashamed to confess it, when I felt my steel meet the steel of my foe, was one of arrant and tumultuous fear. I had never before crossed swords with anyone in deadly hatred; and in my case the thing was the harder, for the feeling against my cousin was not so violent a passion as to make me heedless of aught else. Before me, behind the back of my antagonist, the thick underwood was already filled with the twittering of birds, and a great feeling of longing came upon me to get well through with the affair and escape death. For now a feeling which I had not reckoned with came to oppress me—the fear of death. Had my wits been more about me, I might have reflected that my cousin was too good a swordsman to kill me and lay himself open to many penalties. But my mind was in such a confusion that I could think of naught but an overwhelming danger.

Howbeit, in a little this fit passed, and once more I was myself. Gilbert, for what reason I know not, fenced swiftly and violently. Blow came upon blow till I scarce could keep my breath. I fell at once upon the defensive, and hazarded never a cut, but set all my powers to preserving my skin. And in truth this was no easy task, for he had acquired a villainous trick of passing suddenly from the leg-cut to the head-stroke, so that more than once I came not up to guard in time and had his sword almost among my hair. I could not guess what he meant by this strategy, for I had ever believed that a man who began in a hot-fit ended in a languor. He sought, I doubt not, to speedily put an end to the encounter by putting forth his greater strength, hoping to beat down my guard or bewilder me with the multiplicity of his flourishes.

Now this conduct of my opponent had an effect the very counter of what he proposed. I became completely at my ease; indeed, I swear I never felt more cool in my life. This has ever been the way with me, for I have always been at my best in the extremest perils. Oftentimes when things went very sore with me, I was at a loss and saw no way of escape; but let them get a little worse and I was ready to meet them. So now I was on the watch to frustrate every moment, and since no man can fight rapidly and fight well, I kept him at bay till he deemed it prudent to give up this method.

But now when he came down to slow, skilful fence I found my real danger. We were well matched, as had been proved in many a harmless encounter on the turf by the Tweed. I was something lighter, he somewhat stronger in the arm and firmer in the body; but taking us all in all we were as equal a pair as ever crossed swords. And now there was an utter silence; even the birds on the trees seemed to have ceased. The others no longer talked. The sharp clatter and ring of the swords had gone, and in its place was a deadly swish—swish, which every man who has heard it dreads, for it means that each stroke grazes the vitals. I would have given much in that hour for another inch to my arm. I put forth all my skill of fence. All that I had learned from Tam Todd, all that I had found out by my own wits was present to me; but try as I would, and I warrant you I tried my utmost, I could not overreach my opponent. Yet I fenced steadily, and if I made no progress, I did not yield my ground.

With Gilbert the case was otherwise. His play was the most brilliant I had ever seen, full of fantastic feints and flourishes such as is the French fashion. But I could not think that a man could last for ever in this style, since for one stroke of my arm there were two of his and much leaping from place to place. But beyond doubt he pressed me close. Again and again I felt his steel slipping under my guard, and it was only by a violent parry that I escaped. One stroke had cut open my sleeve and grazed my arm, but beyond this no one of us had suffered hurt.

But soon a thing which I had scarcely foreseen began to daunt me. I was placed facing the east, and the rising sun began to catch my eyes. The ground was my own choosing, so my ill-luck was my own and no fault of Gilbert's. But it soon began to interfere heavily with my play. I could only stand on guard. I dared not risk a bold stroke, lest, my eyes being dazzled by the light, I should miscalculate the distance. I own I began to feel a spasm of fear. More than one of my opponent's strokes came within perilous nearness. The ground too was not firm, and my foot slid once and again when I tried to advance. To add to it all there was Gilbert's face above the point of the swords, cold, scornful, and triumphant. I began to feel incredibly weak about the small of the back, and I suppose my arm must have wavered, for in guarding a shoulder-cut I dropped my point, and my enemy's blade scratched my left arm just above the elbow. I staggered back with the shock of the blow, and my cousin had a moment's breathing-space. I was so obviously the loser in the game, that Gilbert grew merry at my expense.

"Well, John," he cried, "does't hurt thee? My arm is somewhat rougher than Marjory's."

There seems little enough in the words, yet I cannot tell how that taunt angered me. In the mouth of another I had not minded it, but I had a way of growing hot whenever I thought of my cousin and my lady in the same minute of time. It called to my mind a flood of bitter memories. In this encounter, at any rate, it was the saving of me. Once more I was myself, and now I had that overmastering passionate hate which I lacked before. When I crossed swords again I felt no doubt of the issue and desired only to hasten it. He on his part must have seen something in my eyes which he did not like, for he ceased his flourishes and fell on defence.

Then it was that the real combat of the day commenced. Before it had been little more than a trial of skill, now it was a deadly and determined battle. In my state of mind I would have killed my foe with a light heart, however much I might have sorrowed for it after. And now he began to see the folly of his conduct in the fore-part of the fight. I was still fresh and stout of arm; he was a little weary and his self-confidence a little gone.

"By God, Gilbert, you will eat your words," I cried, and had at him with might and main.

I fenced as I had never fenced before, not rashly, but persistently, fiercely, cunningly. Every attempt of his I met and foiled. Again and again I was within an ace of putting an end to the thing, but for some trifling obstacle which hindered me. He now fought sullenly, with fear in his eyes, for he knew not what I purposed concerning him. I warrant he rued his taunt a hundred times in those brief minutes.

At last my opportunity came. He made a desperate lunge forward, swung half round and exposed his right arm. I thrust skilfully and true. Straight through cloth and skin went my blade, and almost ere I knew I had spitted him clean through the arm just above the elbow. The sword dropped from his helpless hand.

I had put forth too much strength, for as he stumbled back with the shock of the wound I could not check my course, but staggered heavily against him and together we rolled on the ground.

In a second I was on my feet and had drawn out my weapon. With lowered point I awaited his rising, for he was now powerless to continue.

"Well," said I, "have you had satisfaction?"

He rose to his feet with an ugly smile. "Sufficient for the present, cousin John," said he. "I own you have got the better of me this time. Hi, Stephen, will you lend me a kerchief to bind this cursed wound?"

One of his companions came up and saw to his wants. I made to go away, for there was no further need of my presence, but my cousin called me back.

"Farewell, John," he said. "Let us not part in anger, as before. Parting in anger, they say, means meeting in friendship. And, 'faith, I would rather part from you in all love and meet you next in wrath."

"Farewell," I said carelessly as I departed, though I was amazed to hear a man with a pierced arm speak so lightly. Courage was not a quality which my cousin had to seek. So I left him in high good humour with myself, much pleased at my own prowess, and sensible that all immediate annoyance from that quarter was at an end.

Little man knows what God hath prepared for him. Had it not been for his defeat, Gilbert had not left Holland, and my greater misfortunes had never happened. And yet at that hour I rejoiced that I had rid myself of a torment.

Nicol was awaiting me, and soon I was arrayed in my coat once more, for the air was shrewdly cold. My servant was pale as I had never seen him before, and it was clear that he had watched the combat with much foreboding.

"Eh, Maister John," he cried, "ye're a braw fechter. I never likit ye half as weel. I thocht a' was up whiles, but ye aye cam to yoursel' as sprig as a wull-cat. Ye're maybe a wee thing weak i' the heid-cuts, though," he added. "I'll hae to see to ye. It's no what ye micht ca' profitable to be aye proddin' a man in the wame, for ye may prick him a' ower and him no muckle the waur. But a guid cleavin' slash on the harns is maist judeecious. It wad kill a stirk."

It was still early and we had breakfasted sparely, so we sought a tavern of good repute, The Three Crows, and made a hearty meal, washing it down with the best Rhenish. I was so mightily pleased with my victory, like a child with its toy, that I held my head a full inch higher, and would yield the causeway to no man. I do believe if M. Balagny or the great Lord Herbert had challenged me I would not have refused.

Some three days later I had sure tidings that my cousin had sailed for Leith and was thought to have no design of returning.

CHAPTER VII

I SPEND MY DAYS IN IDLENESS

Summer came on the heels of spring, and the little strip of garden below my windows grew gay as the frock of a burgher's wife on a Sunday. There were great lines of tulips, purple and red and yellow, stately as kings, erect as a line of soldiers, which extended down the long border nigh to the edge of the water. The lawn was green and well trimmed and shaded by the orderly trees. It was pleasant to sit here in the evenings, when Nicol would bring out the supper-table to the grass, and we would drink our evening ale while the sun was making all the canal a strip of beaten gold. Many folk used to come of an evening, some of them come to the university on the same errand as myself, others, Scots gentlemen out of place and out of pocket, who sought to remedy both evils by paying court to the Stadtholder. Then we would talk of our own land and tell tales and crack jests till the garden rang with laughter. I could well wish those times back, if I could bring with them the forte latus, nigros angusta fronte capillos, dulce loqui, ridere decorum. But fie on me for such discontent! Hath not God given good gifts for age as well as youth—aye, perhaps in greater abundance?

I pursued my studies in the ancient literatures and philosophy with much diligence and profit. Nevertheless, there was much to turn my attention, and I doubt if I did not find the folk around me the more diverting objects of study. I lived in an air of theology and philosophy and statecraft, hearing discussions on these and kindred matters all the day long. There were many of my own countrymen in the place, who are notoriously the most contentious of mankind: so that I could scarcely walk down any street without hearing some violent disputation in my own tongue. As for the other people of the place, I found them both civil and hospitable.

The routine of my days was as regular as clockwork, for it was always part of my method to apportion my day equally among my duties. In the morning, immediately upon rising, I went to Master Sandvoort's lecture on the Latin tongue. Then I broke my fast in the little tavern, The Gray Goose, just at the south entrance to the college. It was a clean, well-fitted place, where was found the fattest landlord and the best ale in Holland. Then at the hour of ten in the forenoon I went to listen to the eloquence of Master Quellinus. Having returned thence to my lodging I was wont to spend the time till dinner in study. Thereafter I walked in the town, or resorted to the houses of my friends, or read in the garden till maybe four o'clock, when it was my custom to go to the dwelling of Sir William Crichtoun (him whom I have spoken of before), and there, in the company of such Scots gentlemen as pleaded to come, to pass the time very pleasantly. From these meetings I had vast profit, for I learned something of the conduct of affairs and the ways of the world, in the knowledge of which I had still much to seek. Then home once more to study, and then to bed with a clear conscience and great drowsiness.

But there were several incidents which befell during this time, and which served to break the monotony of my life, which merit the telling. Firstly, towards the end of September who should come to visit me but my kinsman, Gilbert Burnet of Salisbury, a scholar shrewd and profound, a gentleman of excellent parts, and the devoutest Christian it has ever been my lot to fall in with. He was just returning from his journey to Italy, whereof he has written in his work, "Some Letters to T.H.R.B. Concerning his Travels in Italy and Holland." It was one afternoon as I sat in the arbour that Nicol came across the green followed by an elderly man of grave and comely appearance. It was to my great joy that I recognised my kinsman. He had alighted in Leyden that morning and proposed to abide there some days. I would have it that he should put up at my lodgings, and thither he came after many entreaties. During his stay in the city he visited many of the greater folk, for his fame had already gone abroad, and he was welcome everywhere. He was a man of delightful converse, for had he not travelled in many lands and mixed with the most famous? He questioned me as to my progress in letters and declared himself more than satisfied. "For, John," said he, "I have met many who had greater knowledge, but none of a more refined taste and excellent judgment. Did you decide on the profession of a scholar I think I could promise you a singular success. But indeed it is absurd to think of it, for you, as I take it, are a Burnet and a man of action and one never to be satisfied with a life of study. I counsel you not to tarry too long in this foreign land, for your country hath sore need of men like you in her present distress." Then he fell to questioning me as to my opinions on matters political and religious. I told him that I was for the church and the king to the death, but that I held that the one would be the better of a little moderation in its course, and that the other had fallen into indifferent hands. I told him that it grieved my heart to hear of my own countrymen pursued like partridges on the mountains by some blackguard soldiers, and that when I did return, while deeming it my duty to take the part of the king in all things, I would also think it right to hinder to the best of my power the persecution. In this matter he applauded me. It pained him more than he could tell, said he, to think that the church of his own land was in such an ill condition that it did not trust its friends. "What in Heaven's name is all this pother?" he cried. "Is a man to suffer because he thinks one way of worshipping his God better than another? Rather let us rejoice when he worships Him at all, whether it be at a dyke-side or in the King's Chapel." And indeed in this matter he was of my own way of thinking. When finally he took his leave it was to my great regret, for I found him a man of kindly and sober counsels.

Yet his visit had one result which I had little dreamed of, for it led me to show greater friendliness to such of the Scots covenanters as were refugees in the town. I learned something of their real godliness and courage, and was enabled to do them many little services. In particular, such letters as they wished to write to their friends at home I transmitted under my own name and seal, since all communication with Holland was highly suspected unless from a man of approved loyalty.

The other matter which I think worth noting was the acquaintance I formed with a Frenchman, one M. de Rohaine, a gentleman of birth, who was in great poverty and abode in a mean street off the Garen Markt. The way in which I first met him was curious. I was coming home late one evening from Master Swinton's house, and in passing through a little alley which leads from near the college to the Garen Markt, I was apprised of some disturbance by a loud noise of tumult. Pushing forward amid a crowd of apprentices and fellows of the baser sort, I saw a little man, maybe a tailor or cobbler from his appearance, with his back against a door and sore pressed by three ruffians, who kept crying out that now they would pay him for his miserly ways. The mob was clearly on their side, for it kept applauding whenever they struck or jostled him. I was just in the act of going forward to put an end to so unequal a combat, when a tall grave man thrust himself out of the throng and cried out in Dutch for them to let go. They answered with some taunt, and almost before I knew he had taken two of the three, one in either hand, and made their heads meet with a sounding crack. I was hugely delighted with the feat, and broke forward to offer my help, for it soon became clear that this champion would have to use all his wits to get out of the place. The three came at him swearing vehemently, and with evil looks in their eyes. He nodded to me as I took my stand at his side.

"Look after the red-beard, friend," he cried. "I will take the other two."

And then I found my hands full indeed, for my opponent was tough and active, and cared nothing for the rules of honourable warfare. In the end, however, my training got the mastery, and I pinked him very prettily in the right leg, and so put him out of the fight. Then I had time to turn to the others, and here I found my new-found comrade sore bested. He had an ugly cut in his forehead, whence a trickle of blood crawled over his face. But his foes were in a worse case still, and when word came at the moment that a body of the guard was coming they made off with all speed.

The man turned and offered me his hand,

"Let me thank you, sir, whoever you may be," said he. "I am the Sieur de Rohaine at your service."

"And I am Master John Burnet of Barns in Scotland," said I.

"What," he cried, "a Scot!" And nothing would serve him but that I must come with him to his lodging and join him at supper. For, as it seemed, he himself had just come from Scotland, and was full of memories of the land.

I found him a man according to my heart. When I spoke of his gallantry he but shrugged his shoulders. "Ah," said he, "it was ever my way to get into scrapes of that kind. Were I less ready to mix in others' business I had been a richer and happier man to-day," and he sighed.

From him I learned something more of the condition of my own land, and it was worse even than I had feared. M. de Rohaine had had many strange adventures in it, but he seemed to shrink from speaking of himself and his own affairs. There was in his eyes a look of fixed melancholy as of one who had encountered much sorrow in his time and had little hope for more happiness in the world. Yet withal he was so gracious and noble in presence that I felt I was in the company of a man indeed.

If I were to tell all the benefit I derived from this man I should fill a volume and never reach the end of my tale. Suffice it to say that from him I learned many of the tricks of sword play, so that soon I became as nigh perfect in the art as it was ever in my power to be. I learned too of other lands where he had been and wars which he had fought; and many tales which I have often told at home in Tweeddale I first heard from his lips. I was scarce ever out of his company, until one day he received a letter from a kinsman bidding him return on urgent necessity. He made his farewells to me with great regret, and on parting bade me count on his aid if I should ever need it. From that day to this I have never cast eyes on his face or heard tidings of him, but I herewith charge all folk of my family who may read this tale, if ever it be their fortune to meet with one of his name or race, that they befriend him to the best of their power, seeing that he did much kindness to me.

So the summer passed with one thing and another, till, ere I knew, winter was upon us. And I would have you know that winter in the Low Countries is very different from winter with us among the hills of Tweed. For here we have much mist and rain and a very great deal of snow; also the cold is of a kind hard to endure, since it is not of the masterful, overbearing kind, but raw and invidious. But there the frost begins in late autumn and keeps on well till early spring. Nor was there in my experience much haze or rain, but the weather throughout the months was dry and piercing. Little snow fell, beyond a sprinkling in the fore-end of January. Every stream and pond, every loch and canal was hard and fast with ice, and that of the purest blue colour and the keenest temper I have ever seen. All the townsfolk turned out to disport themselves on the frozen water, having their feet shod with runners of steel wherewith they performed the most wondrous feats of activity. The peasant-girls going to market with their farm produce were equipped with these same runners, and on them proceeded more quickly than if they had ridden on the highroad.

Often, too, during the winter, there were festivals on the ice, when the men arrayed in thick clothes and the women in their bravest furs came to amuse themselves at this pastime. I went once or twice as a spectator, and when I saw the ease and grace of the motion was straightway smitten with a monstrous desire to do likewise. So I bought a pair of runners and fitted them on my feet. I shall not dwell upon my immediate experiences, of which indeed I have no clear remembrance, having spent the better part of that afternoon on the back of my head in great bodily discomfort. But in time I made myself master of the art and soon was covering the ice as gaily as the best of them. I still remember the trick of the thing, and five years ago, when the floods in Tweed made a sea of the lower part of Manor valley, and the subsequent great frost made this sea as hard as the high-road, I buckled on my runners and had great diversion, to the country folks' amazement.

In all this time I had had many letters from Marjory, letters writ in a cheerful, pleasant tone, praying indeed for my return, but in no wise complaining of my absence. They were full of news of the folk of Tweedside, how Tam Todd was faring at Barns, and what sport her brother Michael was having in the haughlands among the wild-duck. I looked eagerly for the coming of those letters, for my heart was ever at Dawyck, and though I much enjoyed my sojourning in Holland, I was yet glad and willing for the time of departure to arrive. In January of the next year I received a bundle of news written in the gayest of spirits; but after that for three months and more I heard nothing. From this long silence I had much food for anxiety, for though I wrote, I am sure, some half-dozen times, no reply ever came. The uneasiness into which this put me cast something of a gloom over the latter part of the winter. I invented a hundred reasons to explain it. Marjory might be ill; the letters might have gone astray; perhaps she had naught to tell me. But I could not satisfy myself with these excuses, so I had e'en to wait the issue of events.

It was not till the month of April that I had news from my love, and what this was I shall hasten to tell.

CHAPTER VIII

THE COMING OF THE BRIG SEAMAW

It was the third day of April, a day so cool and mild that every one who could was in the open air, that I sat in the little strip of garden behind my lodging, reading the Symposium of Plato in the light of certain digests of Master Quellinus. The beds of hyacinth, yellow and blue and red, were flaunting before my eyes, and down by the water's edge the swallows were twittering and skimming. The soft spring wind fluttered the leaves of my book and stirred my hair, so that I found it hard indeed to keep my attention fixed. Some yards behind me Nicol sat cleaning a fishing-rod, for in the idle days he amused himself with trying his skill among the sleepy streams. He was whistling some bars of "Leezie Lindsay," and the tune, which I had often heard in Tweeddale, put me much in mind of home and inclined my heart violently to the place I had left. So soon I found my Plato lying listlessly on my lap, and my thoughts far away over sea.

Just now, I knew, would be the lambing-time in the Tweed hills, and all the valleys would be filled with the noise of sheep. The shepherds, too, would be burning the bent, and the moors sending up wreaths of pungent smoke. I minded the smell so well that I almost fancied it was in my nostrils in place of the moist perfume of hyacinth and violet. At Barns, Tam Todd would be seeing to the young trees and fishing in the full streams. At Dawyck, Marjory would be early abroad, plucking the spring flowers and bringing in armfuls of apple-blossom to deck the rooms. The thought of Marjory gave me sudden discomfort. I reflected for the thousandth time that I had heard nothing of her for months, and I fell to wondering greatly at her silence. By and by, what with thinking of home and of her and chafing at her neglect, I found myself in a very pretty state of discontentment.

It was just then that I heard a voice behind me, and turning round saw Nicol approaching in company with another. The stranger was a man of remarkable appearance. He was scarcely the middle height, but his breadth across the shoulders was so great that he seemed almost dwarfish. He had arms of extraordinary length, so long that they reached almost to his knees, like the Tartars in Muscovy that I have read of. His square, weather-beaten face was filled with much good humour, and the two eyes which looked out from beneath his shaggy brows were clear and shrewd.

"This is Maister Silas Steen o' the brig Seamaw," said Nicol, making an introduction, "whae has come from Scotland this morning, and says he has letters wi' him for you." Having delivered himself, my servant retreated, and left the newcomer alone with me.

"You'll be Master John Burnet of Barns?" said he, looking at me sharply.

"The same, at your service," said I.

"It's just a bit letter for you," and he dived into his pocket and produced a packet.

I took it hastily, for I had some guess who was the writer. Nor was I wrong, for one glance at the superscription told me the truth. And this is how it ran:

"For Master John Burnet in the house of Mistress Vanderdecker near the Breedestraat, at Leyden.

"DEAR JOHN: I have not written thee for long, and I trust that thereby I have not given thee trouble. I am well and happy, when this leaves me, though desiring thy return. I trust your studies are to your satisfaction. Tam Todd, from the Barns, was over yestreen, and gave a good account of all things there."

Then came a pause, and the writing was resumed in a hurried, irregular hand.

"I am not free to write my will. O John, dear John, come back to me. I am so unhappy. I cannot survive without thee another day" (this latter word had been scored out and month put in its place). "I am in dreadful perplexity. Come quick.

"MARJORY."

You may imagine into what state of mind the reading of this letter threw me. My lady was in trouble, that was enough for me, and she desired my aid. I guessed that the letter had been written stealthily and that some trouble had been found in its conveyance, for it bore the marks of much crumpling and haste. I could make no conjecture as to its meaning, and this doubt only the more increased my impatience.

"From whom did you get this?" I asked.

"From a great, thin, swart man, who brought it to me at Leith, and bade me deliver it. I came post haste from Rotterdam this day."

I ran over in my mind the serving-folk at Dawyck, and could think of none such. Then, like a flash, I remembered Tam Todd. This doubly increased my fears. If Marjory could get no porter for her message save one of my own servants, then the trouble must be at Dawyck itself.

I can find no words for the depths of my anxiety. To think of Marjory in sorrow and myself separated by leagues of land and sea well-nigh drove me distracted. There and then I resolved on my course.

"Your ship is at Rotterdam?" I asked.

"Yes," said the captain.

"When does she sail?"

"To-morrow night, when the cargo is on board."

"I'll give you twenty pieces of gold if you'll sail to-night."

The captain shook his head. "It canna be done," he cried; "my freight is lace and schiedam, worth four times twenty pieces, and I canna have a voyage for naething."

"Listen," said I, "I am in terrible perplexity. I would give you a hundred, if I had them; but I promise you, if you bring me safely to the port of Leith, they shall be paid. Ride back to your vessel and ship all the stuff you can, and I will be with you at eleven o'clock this night, ready to sail."

The fellow shook his head, but said nothing.

"Man, man," I cried, "for God's sake, I implore you. It's a matter to me of desperate import. See, there are your twenty pieces, and I'll give you my bond for eighty, to be paid when we win to Leith."

"Tut, Master Burnet," said he, "I will not be taking your money. But I'm wae to see you in trouble. I'll take you over the nicht for the twenty pieces, and if I lose on the venture, you can make it up to me. It's safer carrying you and running straight for the pier, than carrying schiedam and dodging about the Bass. And I'm not a man that need count his pennies. Forbye, I see there's a lady in the case, and I deem it my duty to assist you."

I was at first astonished by the man's ready compliance, but when I saw that he was sincere, I thanked him to the best of my power. "Be sure I shall not forget this service, Captain Steen," said I; "and if it is ever in my power to serve you in return, you may count on me. You will take some refreshment before you go;" and, calling Nicol, I bade him see to the stranger's wants.

Meantime it behooved me to be up and doing if I was to sail that night. I knew not what to think of the news I had heard, for, as I thought upon the matter, it seemed so incredible that aught could have gone wrong that I began to set it all down to mere loneliness and a girl's humours. The strangeness of the letter I explained with all the sophistry of care. She did not wish to disturb me and bring me home before my time. This was what she meant when she said she was not free to write her will. But at the end her desolateness had overmastered her, and she had finished with a piteous appeal. Even so I began to reason, and this casuistry put me in a more hopeful frame of mind. It was right that I should go home, but when I got there I should find no cause for fear. But there was much to be done in the town and the college ere I could take my departure. So when I had paid all the monies that I owed, and bidden farewell to all my friends (among whom Sir William Crichtoun and Master Quellinus were greatly affected), I returned to my lodgings. There I found Nicol in great glee, preparing my baggage. He was whistling the "Lawlands of Holland," and every now and then he would stop to address himself. "Ye're gaun hame," I heard him saying, "ye're gaun hame to the hills and the bonny water o' Tweed, and guid kindly Scots folk, after thae frostit Hollanders, and fine tasty parritsh and honest yill after the abominable meats and drinks o' this stawsome hole. And ye'd better watch your steps, Nicol Plenderleith, my man, I'm tellin' ye, and keep a calm sough, for there's a heap o' wark to be dune, and some o' it geyan wanchancy."