THE ROMANCE OF THE SIEGE OF PERTH.

In the year 1310, King Robert Bruce had overcome many of those extraordinary difficulties that threatened to render all the efforts of mere man unavailable in regaining for Scotland that perfect liberty of which she had so long boasted, and which, though it had never been taken from her absolutely, had been, by the unwarrantable schemes and policy of the first Edward, loosened from her grasp, and lay trampled on by the fierce genius of war. Great and wonderful, however, as had already been the prowess and determination of Bruce, and successful beyond the aspirations of hope as had been his efforts in the glorious cause of his country's freedom, there was great room for question whether Scotland would even at this period have triumphed, had the sceptre of England not fallen so opportunely into the hands of the second Edward. The first and greatest of all Scotland's foes, the first Edward, had died three years before, at Burgh-upon-Sands, leaving, as Froissart informs us, his dying injunction on his son, to boil his body in a caldron, till the bones should part with the flesh, and to carry the grim relics with him into Scotland, with the condition that they should not be buried till Scotland was subdued. The legacy of dry bones, from which the spirit of the great king had departed, was apparently all of his father that the young Edward inherited; for he soon displayed so much vacillation of policy, and so little genius for war, that, if Providence had intended to work to the hands of Bruce for the salvation of his country, she could not have brought about her designs with greater effect than by giving Bruce as an enemy the young King of England. Things were going straight forward to the result of Bannockburn. Bruce had been successful almost everywhere. The clergy at Dundee had declared his right to the throne, and the injustice of the decision that gave Baliol the crown; the nobles, with the exception of Angus, Buchan, and some others, were in his favour; but, above all, the common people, in whom the true sovereignty of every country lies, had begun to see in their new king those qualities that are calculated to move the heart. The hopes of Bruce rose every hour; and, having scattered the forces of the English in every recent encounter, he saw the necessity, and felt the power, of seizing some of the walled towns that Edward had fortified with much care, as if stone and lime could bind the freedom of Scotland. The town of Perth was the one that seemed then of greatest importance, as well from its central situation between the Highlands and Lowlands, as from the state of its battlements, which were a regular fortification, with strong walls defended by high towers, and all surrounded by a broad and deep fosse.

The town had for some time been under siege, and, being one of those that Edward was determined to hold to the last, was promised succour with the first supplies that should enter the Tay. It was commanded by William Oliphant, an Anglicised Scot, who, with a firmness worthy of a better cause, had resolved to be true to the enemy of his country, and to give up the town only with his life. But his efforts were sorely thwarted by the remissness of Edward in sending provisions, and by the effects of a grievous famine, that, as a consequence of the intestine wars by which the country had been so wofully torn, was desolating the land in every quarter. He had already drained the pockets of the most wealthy of the citizens, by forcing them to supply him with money, by which he contrived to get in provisions to enable him to hold out against Bruce. Among the rest, a rich burgher from the Lower Provinces, Peter of Ghent (his latter name has not reached us) was expected to lend him a large sum of money. The Fleming was, in those days, what the Scots afterwards became—remarkable for the possession of the faculty of prudence—the legitimate offspring of the genius of merchandise. By the importation of broadcloths and armour gear, he had contrived to realise a large fortune, and was reported by the good men of Perth as one of the wealthiest merchants in the kingdom. He had only one child, a daughter, commonly known by the name of Anne of Ghent, a young creature of great beauty, and, what may appear to have been somewhat remarkable in her station, of a spirit that was deeply imbued with the love of chivalry. But we would form a very inadequate estimate of the charms of that extraordinary power which overturned kingdoms and damsels' hearts wherever its influence was felt, if we were to limit its sphere to the sons and daughters of nobility. Its principles, indeed, are found in every bosom that responds to the sentiments of love and heroism; and from the humble and beautiful Anne of Ghent, up to the noble and heroic Isabella of Buchan, the spirit burned with a fervour that was only in some accounted less strong because no opportunities wore afforded for its display.

It was not in Scotland that this spirit had been first fanned into a flame in the bosom of the fair Fleming, but in France, where the preux chevalier was seen in all his pride and glory. When about sixteen years of age, she had accompanied her father to Flanders, when he resorted thither for the purpose of traffic; and, in order to gratify his daughter, of whom he was justly proud, he had taken her to Paris, to be present at a joust held before Louis IX. The display of arms on that occasion was a trial between Sir Piers Guyard and Sir William Indelgonde, the latter of whom, having defamed the mistress of the former, had been compelled, by order of Louis, to prove his assertion by the issue of a mortal combat. The battle ended by the death of Indelgonde; but what possessed greater charms to Anne than the details of the duellum, was the extraordinary sight she witnessed of twenty untried squires of France, all arrayed in shining coats of armour, with long flowing plumes of various colours on their glittering basnets, taking, according to the custom of these days, their first oaths, "before the peacock and the ladies," that they would not see with both eyes until they had accomplished some daring deed of arms. The gay bird of gaudy hues was brought into a large pavilion erected at the end of the arena; and, like that before which King Edward I. swore at Westminster when he denounced poor Scotland, was encircled with a thin covering of golden gauze, and placed on a tripod ornamented with many carved devices of chivalry. The squires, one by one, knelt before the bird, and recited their oaths, and then, turning round to the queens of their destinies, solicited like mendicants, with one knee on the ground, a silk riband to bind up the orb which was about to be deprived of the fair sight of their charms. Nearly opposite to where Anne sat, a very young chevalier of the name of Rolande of Leon knelt for his eye gear; and though twenty ladies of birth, all anxious that their gifts should be accepted, threw to him ribands of silk, it happened that, whether from chance or from some mysterious sympathy between the hand and eyes of the young mendicant, a narrow green stripe, that Anne in her enthusiasm tore hurriedly from her head-gear, fell into his willing grasp. When she saw the fluttering trophy in the hands of so comely a youth, she trembled with modest fear; for she knew that, as the daughter of a burgher, rich as he was, she had but a very questionable title to compete for the honours of chivalry; but, when she saw the riband bound round his head, and the helmet placed upon it, she was ready to faint outright, and it was with difficulty that she retained her position on the bench. As soon as the crowd began to move, she hastened away to join her father, who was waiting for her beyond the palisades. Next day she was on her way to Flanders, and shortly afterwards she arrived at the city of Perth.

Two or three years had now passed since the fair Fleming acted the almost involuntary part of a high lady, within the pale of the Theatre de la chevalerie. Living, with the rich old merchant, within the walls of a city devoted to traffic, she had had few opportunities of witnessing another show of arms. The warriors of Scotland were then holding their jousts in the open fields and thick forests; and, in place of fighting for the smiles of women, were doing battle for the liberties of their ancient and much-abused country. But the rising fame of Bruce, his brother Edward, and Douglas, and Randolph, claimed her feelings of admiration; and she would have given her rosary itself, with her jewelled cross, to have got a glimpse of men of whom all the ladies of Christendom were enamoured. She often pictured to herself, as she sat in her small parlour that fronted the city wall, their forms firmly girt with their shining armour; but a visor was never lifted up to the eye of her fancy without revealing the feature of Rolande, as she saw him kneeling at her feet for the gift he solicited and obtained. The face had been deeply imprinted in her memory, and the encircling gift which she had bestowed, seemed to connect her by some indefinable tie with one whom she might never see again, but of whom she could never cease to think. His elegant and manly form, which displayed all the graces of the accomplished man-at-arms, mixed itself with all her thoughts, and her greatest delight was to pre-figure to herself the appearance, on some occasion, of that same warrior, with his left eye bound by the badge she had given him, and a declaration on his tongue, as he knelt before her, that she had the sole power of restoring him full-orbed to the light, which he might now claim as the reward of his prowess.

Anne was thus one evening indulging in some of these reveries of a love-sick brain, when Peter of Ghent entered the room. He was dressed in his Sunday's suit, with his ample surcoat of the best broadcloth, girt round the waist with a leather belt, his broad slouched hat of felt, and boots of the old Flemish style turned down at the tops, forming altogether a favourable contrast with the roughly-clad people of those early times, when the rough hats, coarse jerkins, and untanned shoes, constituted the apparel of Scotland's sons. Anne looked up, and a slight feeling of surprise passed through her mind as she noticed him thus arrayed.

"The town is still in great danger, Anne," said he, as he took a seat by her side, at the fire of blazing faggots, that threw a bright glare over the beautiful face of his daughter. "The enemies of Edward seem to be on the increase. Dundee has surrendered, the whole of Galloway has been ravaged, and Bruce, become bolder by his success, lies looking on our good town, as the wolves of Atholl look on the sheepfold in the glen."

"If there had been lions in these parts, father," answered Anne, "I might have heard from thee a comparison more suitable to the qualities of that brave soldier."

"These words, Anne," replied Peter, "but ill become a liege woman of King Edward. This poor country cannot thrive without the protecting power of England, where more broadcloths are disposed of in one year than Scotland uses in ten. The limbs of the sturdy hills and dales men seem to spurn all modes of human comfort; yet verily the love of ease and warmth to the body is the parent of all arts and improvement; and until that begins to be felt, we can have no hope of Scotland."

Anne looked up, and smiled at this professional allusion to the source of her father's wealth.

"But I need not so speak to the pretty Anne," he added, returning her smile; "for I know that thou hast the fashionable womanish affection of these times for steel, as the commodity of man's apparel; and thereto appertaineth the subject of which I came to speak to thee. Our governor, William Oliphant—who, though a Scotchman, is as true an adherent of Edward as ever fought under the banner-borne bones of his father—wanteth a thousand Flemish nobles, to enable him to get provisions for our citizens from a Dutch galley in the Tay; and whom should he apply to for it but Peter of Ghent, who is looked upon as being the richest man of Perth?"

"And wilt thou give it him, father?" said Anne. "Of a surety, thou wilt lose it, if thou dost; for, were Perth as strong as Roxburgh, which, they say, is the strongest hold of these parts, it would not stand against such a warrior as Robert Bruce; and where wilt thou get thy money again, if the town falls into the hands of the Scots?"

"That is a good point of argument for a woman, love," replied Peter. "I fear for the old town myself; for they tell me that Bruce's fame has brought to his blue banner three French knights, with their left eyes bound up by ladies' favours, who deem that their feats of arms in an escalade of Perth may restore to them their sight. Doubtless they will fight like lions or devils; but seest thou not, that, whether I give the money or not, the town may fall, and all I have in the world may be wrenched from me by these naked caterans, to whom a single merk, albeit it were clipped to the dimensions of King David's bodles, would be a fortune?"

Anne was silent. The mention of the monoculous knights of France had driven merks and all other moneys from her mind, and she would have rejoiced to have seen Perth taken upon the instant, provided always that she were taken with it. But Peter understood not her absence of mind, and resumed his argument, on the assumption that Anne was listening with all due attention to his scheme.

"But Peter of Ghent," he again said, "never gave a silver piece, or a woollen piece either, for nothing; and, if my dutiful Anne will enter into my scheme, she may have for her consort no less a man than William Oliphant himself, the Governor of Perth, and her wedding-dress shall be of the best silks of Nismes, the richest gloves of Grenoble, and sandals from the fair of Bocaire."

This announcement of some cunning purpose of her father filled Anne with alarm. Oliphant, a dissolute man, had been sometimes in the habit of calling at the house, and she had often thought that she herself was the object of his attraction. Her father, by mentioning the French knights that fought under the banner of Bruce, had raised a hope that her chevalier of the green riband was among them, and now he had caused an alarm that might have been read in her countenance.

"William Oliphant, the Governor of Perth," she replied, as she held down her face towards the blazing faggots, "will not surely stoop to marry the daughter of a Flemish merchant."

"Money will make any man stoop, fair Anne," replied Peter. "I have heard the back armour of the bravest knight of the lists crack with the bow to Mammon, as loud as when he knelt to the peacock. A merchant knows the science of provisos, and conditions, and stipulations, and never a Scotch plack will William Oliphant get from Peter of Ghent, but upon the condition that he wed my Anne, when the town is saved from the arms of Bruce and his blind knights, and the promised succours shall arrive from England. By Saint Dennis, we may have a jolly wedding in the midst of our jubilee of liberation. What sayest, my love?"

Anne still hung down her head. She feared to oppose her father, who was indulgent to her, and had hitherto prided himself on her obedience. She was, besides, overcome with the conflicting thoughts that had been so suddenly raised in her mind by the mention of the French knights, and of this new purpose of her father, that seemed to destroy all the hopes she still entertained of one day enjoying the affections of the man who had first produced an effect upon her heart. A deep sigh escaped from her, and roused her father's suspicions of the cause of her silence.

"Speak, Anne," he said; "thou hast already captivated the governor by thy beauty, and my money will do the rest. He will be knighted by Edward, if he beat off the Bruce; and my daughter will be a lady."

"William Oliphant is not a man according to my heart, father," answered she, at last, with a trembling heart; "but might I be absolved from my engagement to marry him, if the town falls before the arms of the Scots?" she added, as she looked modestly and fearfully into his face.

"Most certainly, love," replied Peter; "and, moreover, thou shalt not be bound to Oliphant personally, for it is I that must make the condition that he will marry thee, in consideration of the loan I gave him for the good old town."

Well pleased with the dutiful answer he had got from his daughter, the worthy man of traffic sallied forth to meet, by special appointment, the governor, who anxiously waited for him in his residence. After he had gone forth, Anne bethought herself of what her fear of offending her father had wrung from her. Though timid from love and duty, she was of a noble spirit, and upheld her heart, as it recoiled from the thought of becoming the wife of a man she hated, by revolving in her mind the chances of the gallant Scots forcing the town to surrender, and relieving her from her qualified obligation. She wished all success to the chivalrous Bruce, because she loved the character of him, and the great and enthusiastic spirits who were struggling for freedom; but she was filled with a high swelling hope, that burned in her bright eye, and heaved her bosom, that her chosen knight of the lists was among the three Frenchmen, who were undergoing their probation for the honours of chivalry. At that moment, her lover was in all probability at a very short distance from her—her lady-gift still bound the flowing hair of dark auburn she had seen and admired, as it escaped from beneath his helm; her power was still exercised in occluding one of the darkest and most brilliant eyes that ever peered through the warrior's visor, and the thought of her then sitting and dreaming of him was perhaps occupying his mind, and filling his heart. Then rose the thrilling thought, that, ere another week passed over, her own hands might be required to unbind the pledge, and the light of the eye that had so long been hid from the sun, might first be thrown upon the face of her who bound it. The hazards of a siege were despised by her bold spirit, as it contemplated these glowing visions. She feared nothing for either herself or her father from men who, while they fought like lions for their country's liberty, were actuated by the high and noble spirit of chivalry. Possessing that confidence in the generosity of noble hearts which seems to be natural to lovely women, she would throw herself on the protection of Bruce himself; claiming that, she could defy all danger, from whatever quarter it might come; and her request for safety to her father would be as successful as her petition for herself. In the siege and capture of the town, her best and dearest interests were involved; for she would contemplate the success of great men fighting in a cause she loved, she would have the chance of meeting her lover, and she had the certainty of escaping the licentious Oliphant, who could not claim her, in the event of losing his treacherous cause in fighting against his country. The sounds of the clang of arms of the assailants would at that moment have been the sweetest sound she ever heard; and she drew deep sighs, as she contemplated the chances of their triumph.

Unconscious of the thoughts that were revolving in the excited mind of his daughter, Peter of Ghent walked along the streets of Perth, till he came to the residence of the governor. His mind was too much occupied on the subject of his diplomatic undertaking to allow him to notice the gazing burghers, who, from their windows, stared at the rich Fleming, and suspected that the object of his expedition was in some way connected with the perilous state of the town. He found the governor waiting for him; and, having made his bow, was soon seated by the official's fire.

"Well, Peter of Ghent," began Oliphant, "hast thou bethought thyself of my request—to give me the thousand nobles that are required for the support of the town against the arms of the Bruce, whose head deserveth a spear, alongside of that which upholdeth Wallace's on London Bridge, or whose body meriteth a cage, alongside of the Countess of Buchan's crib, in the Castle of Berwick. What sayest thou?"

"The sum thou mentionest, Sir Governor," replied the cunning burgher, "hath been laid apart for the tocher of Anne, who meriteth well of the good consideration thou hast bestowed on her. The marriage dower is a sacred gift. Dost thou think as well of her now as formerly?"

"Why, yes, Peter of Ghent, I do," replied Oliphant, who probably saw some obscure connection between Peter's sentences which the words themselves scarcely supplied. "No man with a heart could see that maiden once, and forget her ever. Less beautiful women have been the cause of the meeting of bleeding heads and sawdust; and thou wilt not be far beyond the Saracen's head of thy suspicion, if thou deemest me a lover of fair Anne of Ghent."

"That I have had a fair cause to suspect," said Peter; "and I am well entitled to opine that Anne would give her consent to my paying the sum required of me, upon the consideration that it was merely a species of foreinstalment of dowery, given for the double purpose of saving the town and securing a governor of her heart. A man that can defend, so nobly as you have done, a walled city, could keep a woman's heart in good discipline."

"A right fair point of dialects, Peter of Ghent," replied Oliphant; "but we had better speak of concernments of love after the city is saved. Let us have the nobles in the meanwhile, and we will discuss the merits of the fair Anne, when we have time and leisure to appreciate the qualities of womankind."

"Well and veritably indited," said Peter; "but it would lubricate and facilitate the gaining of Anne's consent to the payment of this money, if I could report to her that it was to be paid as a matrimonial propine to the man she loveth; and, to be honest, I cannot, of a truth, pay it, but upon that stipulation."

"And, by the honour of a governor! I am well pleased to think that I am thus estimated by so fair a creature. Let us have the money; and, if all goes well with the town, I shall look for a second tocher, of another thousand, with the hand of thy daughter."

"Concluded, Sir Governor," cried Peter, in ecstasy.

And the two sat down to finish, over a bottle of Burgundy, the details of a bargain which, on one side, was, at least, sincere; but on the other, was deemed, by those who knew the faithless character of the man, of, at least, dubious faith. Whatever sincerity, however, was felt and exhibited by Peter, in so far as concerned the governor, it was very clear that he had acted a part of true mercantile subtlety, in so far as regarded the interests of his fair daughter. Meanwhile, the money was paid, and extraordinary efforts were made by Oliphant to get foraging parties sent abroad, to procure, for the inhabitants, the necessary supplies. The motions of these troops, as well as those of the besiegers, were regularly noticed by Anne from a part of the wall to which she had access from her father's house. Her interest in the issue of the impending strife was the greatest that could be felt by woman; for it involved the dearest rights of her sex. Bound to Oliphant only in the event of his success, his defeat might bring to her the object of her affections, and she looked for every demonstration of activity on the part of Bruce as a sign of her coming liberation.

During these watchful operations of the fair Fleming, the soldiers of Bruce remained steady at their post, where they had already been for five weeks, endeavouring to prevent any supplies from being sent into the town. Their numbers as yet, however, were so few, and the fortifications of Perth so extensive, that a considerable portion of the ground surrounding the town was left under the surveillance of a species of riding patrole, which the indefatigable endeavours of Oliphant sometimes succeeded in enabling the purveyors to elude. A like good fortune did not attend some of those sent to turn the merks of Peter of Ghent into edibles; for several foragers were intercepted in their passage from the country to the besieged city. One of these—a person called Giles Mortimer—was taken before Bruce, and examined as to the state of the town's provisions.

"Well, sirrah, are these rebels still determined to hold out?" said the king.

"There are many murmurs in the town, sire," replied the man; "and were it not, as fame reporteth, that a rich citizen hath given the governor a thousand Flemish nobles, on condition that he marry his daughter, I do believe that not another noble would have been wrung from any one in the whole city."

"And what is the name of this rich citizen?" said Bruce.

"How could it be any other than Peter of Ghent?" said the man, with a smile; "for is he not the richest citizen of Perth?"

"We have heard of this same Peter of Ghent," said Bruce; "and, by our crown, we should not be ill pleased to be present at the wedding of his daughter. We have some French knights here, who would dance merrily, in honour of the fair bride. What is her name?"

"Anne of Ghent she is called," replied the man; "and, by'r lady, she might, for the matter of beauty, be the wife of a king."

"And when is the wedding to be?" rejoined Brace.

"When the governor can declare the town to be safe from the Bruce," replied the man.

"And that will be when the hares in the pass of Ben Cruachan are safe from the wolves of Lorn," replied Bruce, laughing, and looking around to his chiefs. "Now, look around you, sir, at these warriors, and after thou hast made a gauge of their numbers, and learned that every castle we have yet attempted hath fallen before us, go and tell William Oliphant that we intend to be present at his wedding with the fair Anne of Ghent, and cannot think of waiting either for the succours of King Edward, or for our own defeat. Hie thee on our message, sirrah."

The man was accordingly liberated; and Bruce, during that same day, having resolved to perform by stratagem what seemed to be impossible by the fair play of arms, took with him Sir James Douglas, and went to reconnoitre. Great and even marvellous as was the courage of these far-famed assertors of their country's freedom, it may be doubted whether their genius for daring and successful stratagem did not excel the chivalrous spirit of fair-fighting by which they were actuated to perform deeds of arms that have made the whole world ring with their fame. The capture of the peel or castle of Linlithgow, and that of Edinburgh, afterwards performed, were the most cunningly-devised pieces of military stratagem that had ever been witnessed; and the work of old Polyænus on the warlike acts of the strategists of Greece exhibits nothing that can be compared to them. Bruce had already exhibited this talent for scheming, in the affairs of Lindon Hill and Cruachan Ben; but his powers in this respect were yet to be developed on a grander scale, and as it were by gradation, till the final triumph of Bannockburn should establish his fame for ever. The capture of Perth was one of those intermediate and probationary trials that were fitting the great master for that final and glorious display of all his talents for war; but, small as it was in comparison of what followed, it exhibited perhaps as much of his peculiar genius as had yet been shown. Accompanied by Sir James, he went, during the hours of twilight, up to the margin of the fosse.

"We must know the depth cf this miniature Styx," he said to his companion.

"But we have no measuring-rods," replied Sir James.

"By thine own St Bride! we have though," replied Bruce, smiling. "I am six feet two inches in height." And, in an instant, he was up to the neck in the water; proceeding forward he reached the bottom of the wall, and satisfied himself that all the tall men of his army might make their way through the ditch without incurring the danger of being drowned. Having ascertained this, he returned to the camp, and having provided himself and his companion (for he avoided any show of men) with scaling-ladders of ropes, they again sallied forth under the shade of the increasing darkness, and reached the spot that had already been tested. With one of the ladders in his hand, he again plunged into the water, and made a signal for Sir James to follow; but the knight wanted full two inches of the height of the king, and hesitated a moment, from a well-grounded suspicion that he would be overwhelmed. But shame mastered his scruples, and in an instant he was alongside of the king, who, however, required to seize and sustain him, to prevent his being taken off his feet by the power of the water, that was almost on a level with his lips. They paused a moment in this position, to listen if there were any sounds of stir on the walls, and, perceiving all quiet, they proceeded, and reached the bottom of the fortification. Sir James stood close to the wall, and Bruce, by the aid of some jutting stones, mounted upon his shoulders, remarking, with a quaint humour, that the knight required some weight to be placed upon him, to enable him to keep his erect position. In this strange attitude the king contrived to throw up and fix the ladders to the top of the first bartizan of the wall, and having tugged them with all his force, to ascertain their steadfastness, he came down, and was about to retrace his steps, when Sir James, who disdained to be behind even his king in feats of daring, seized the end of one of the ladders, and, mounting up, looked calmly over the top of the wall, and satisfied himself of two things—first, that the ladders were properly fixed; and, second, that their daring act had not been observed. Having descended, he was again laid hold of by the king; and they reached the bank, where they deliberately shook the water off them after the manner of water-spaniels, and returned to the camp.

Some of the heads of the army were informed of what had been done, and, next morning, after all the inhabitants of the town were astir, the clarion was sounded, loud and long, as if the city had been upon the instant to be attacked. The tents were struck; but, in place of an attack, a retreat was the order of the day, and in the course of an hour the whole Scottish host were beyond the sight of the inhabitants of Perth. The intelligence was soon therefore circulated within the city, that Bruce had given up the siege, and had departed upon some expedition of less difficulty; and the friends of Edward rejoiced that they were liberated from so fearful a foe. The communication was received by many with great rejoicings; and a courier, who arrived that same day from England, announced that Edward had despatched succours to the city, which would arrive in the Tay nearly as soon as the messenger would reach the end of his journey. To Peter of Ghent, this change of circumstances was the apparent prelude to the honours he expected to be showered upon his daughter; but Anne herself, dreaming still of her monoculous knight, and of her anticipated delivery by the champions she desired so ardently to see, looked forward with fear and trembling to the sacrifice that seemed to await her. Her watching at the city walls had been persevered in; but all her care and perspicacity had not enabled her to perceive the strange act of Bruce in suspending the ladder before sounding a retreat. The guarding of the walls was in some degree relaxed, and the inhabitants began again to go forth, and engage in their avocations. About three days afterwards, the handmaid of the fair Fleming, who was in the secret of her mistress, informed her that, as she returned from a meeting near the fortifications with her lover, a soldier, she had observed the top of a rope-ladder affixed to the lower bartizan of the west wall; but the girl's information ended with the announcement of the fact, for her simple mind had suggested no explanation of the circumstance. But to Anne's quick thought the communication presented an aspect pregnant of hope; and, having cautioned the maiden against speaking of what she had seen to any of the inhabitants, she sallied forth in the light of the moon, and by the directions of her informant soon came to the spot where the ladder was suspended. A train of reflections opened up to her the scheme of Bruce, who had, as she thought, raised the siege, to lull the inhabitants into a security which he might turn to his advantage. By some bold efforts, she reached the part of the wall to which the instrument of escalade was attached, and, in the height of her enthusiasm, she took from her dress a narrow riband, and bound it to the top of the ropes.

"The design of these bold spirits," she said, "shall not lack the inspiring gift of a woman to hail, as that favour streameth in the wind, the success of the cause that giveth freedom to their country. If Rolande de Leon may not see this, the eyes of Bruce, that are unbound, may catch a sight of the trophy; and what better evidence may he have that Anne of Ghent wisheth him triumph?"

After indulging in her short monologue, she retreated from the wall, and with some difficulty escaped the eyes of some of the neighbouring guards, as she sought with quick steps the house of her father. As she entered, Peter of Ghent looked at her as if he would have questioned her as to where she had been at so late an hour; but his mind was too much occupied by matters of greater moment.

"Welcome, my love," said he to her, as she sat down by the fire. "I have been with the governor, who is full of rejoicing at this unexpected quittance of the Bruce and his host of wolves. The period of the fulfilment of our condition approaches. The succours of Edward are expected every hour; and then, Anne, I have a right to claim for thee a lord, who is worthy of thy beauty and thy goodness."

"The Bruce may return, father," replied Anne. "It is not thus that he resigns his prey."

"That is nothing to thee or to me, Anne," said Peter, somewhat roused. "A knighthood will be the more sure to the governor; and I should like as well to see that honour bestowed on thy husband as on thy betrothed. Get ready thy marriage-gear, love, and lay aside thy maiden blushes, which can aid thee as little in capturing a husband, as Bruce's backwardness in the taking of Perth."

"The governor hath not claimed me, father," replied Anne, hesitatingly. "He hath not called here since the money was paid to him."

"More still of thy doubtful questionings, wench!" cried Peter, rising in his anger. "What is his remissness to thee, if I adhere to my condition, and demand my bond? He is bound by his honour; to-morrow he is to be here, and thou must show thy fairest qualities in his presence. Go and assign thee thy appurtenances and paraphernals."

Anne rose silently and left the room; but it was not to obey her father. Her mind was occupied with meditations on the chances of the return of Bruce, upon which her safety from the arms of Oliphant, and her hope of meeting her French knight, depended. Her calculations of the probability of that event were but the operations of her own unaided mind, and misgivings, ushering in painful fears, vindicated a place in her thoughts, and made her alternately the victim of hope and apprehension. She could not retire to rest, and her devotions before the Holy Virgin were performed with a fluttering heart, that shook off the holy feelings with which she was accustomed to kneel before the sacred image. The moon still shone bright in at the window, and the stillness that reigned within the house told her that the inmates had retired to rest. She felt a strong inclination to go forth, and find that relief which is often experienced by troubled spirits, in the calm beams of the queen of night; and, wrapping around her a mantle, she obeyed the impulse of her feelings. A large garden nearly connected the house with a part of the fortifications; and, having perambulated the open space, she sauntered along till she came to an embrasure, at which she set herself down, and fixed her eyes on the surrounding ground, where she had formerly seen a part of Bruce's besieging forces. She could perceive nothing now but the wide plain spread forth in the silver light of the moon, and below her feet the deep fosse which reflected the bright beams from its quiet surface. The wind was hushed, and an unbroken silence seemed to reign throughout all nature. A deep train of meditations took possession of her mind; and the sublimed feelings that were called forth by the still and solemn silence around her, mixed with and lent an influence to the thoughts that were ever and anon busy with the hopes that had not yet forsaken her breast. As she sat thus meditating, she thought she observed a dark mass of some moving body upon the plain beyond; and, as she gazed, her attention became more and more fixed upon the extraordinary appearance.

In a short time, the dense mass became more perceptible, and she could now distinguish that it was composed of a body of men, whose motion forward was so noiseless that scarcely a single sound met her ear. There was a small body somewhat in advance of the rest, and she now saw that the direction which they held was towards the spot where she had seen the instrument of escalade fixed to the wall. Rising hurriedly, she crept along by the covered way, and was surprised to find that her passage was not interrupted by a single guard, the men having, in consequence of the fatigue to which they had been exposed for five weeks, taken advantage of Bruce's retreat, and betaken themselves to rest. She soon arrived at the spot, and about the same time she observed that the van she had noticed had also got to that part of the fosse opposite to where she was now placed. The silence enabled her now to catch the low tones of the men; and the coruscations of their steel armour, as the moonbeams played upon it, met her eye. She hesitated a moment whether she would remain or retreat; for the terrors of a siege were before her, and her father was in danger; but she felt that her own freedom from a hated union depended upon the success of the besiegers, and the workings of an enthusiastic spirit stilled the whisperings of fear. She bent and listened, for articulate sentences now rose from the warriors, who stood for a moment on the brink of the fosse. A gigantic individual, in full mail, stood in the midst of the group, and he could be no other than Bruce himself, whose height exceeded that of most men of his day.

"Art ready?" said he, as he held forth his spear, the point of which glittered in the moonbeams, as he waved it.

"Ay—on, noble king!" was responded by another behind him.

"Come on, then," again said the former, and immediately he dashed into the water, which seemed to cover his body to the head.

Some of the others appeared to hesitate for a moment.

"What shall we say of our French lords," cried another, in a French accent, "who live at home in the midst of wassail and jollity, when so brave a knight is here putting his life in hazard to win a hamlet?" And he was the second that followed the Bruce.

"Shall a Frenchman, who hath not yet redeemed the sight of his left eye, bound by a lady's pledge, be the second to mount the wall," was said by a third, as he rushed forward. In an instant the whole party were in the water.

Bruce was now on the ladder. He stopped suddenly, and gazed for a moment at the riband on the top of the escalade. Anne's voice met his ear.

"Come on, come on, brave warriors," she said, in a low tone.

"Who art thou, in Heaven's name?" replied he.

"Anne of Ghent, thy friend. The guard is asleep, and the governor deemeth thee far away. I claim indemnity in life and limb to Peter of Ghent."

"Granted, noble damsel, by the sword of Bruce!" was the answer; "away—away!—to a place of safety."

Anne lost no time in obeying the command. She flew along the covered way with the quickness of light. In her speed she stumbled on the feet of a soldier who lay in a recess of the ramparts, and was almost precipitated to the ground. The man looked up in agitation, and, seeing that it was a woman, growled out a few incoherent sentences, and again resigned himself to sleep, from which he might awake only to feel the sharp steel of a Scotch dagger, as it sought his heart. She paused a little, to satisfy herself that the man was not sufficiently roused to hear the sounds of the assailants, and, finding all safe, she sought hurriedly the dwelling of her father. He was sound asleep when she entered, and there was no one stirring; but the sounds of horns were now ringing through the city, and, as she opened the door of his sleeping-apartment, the clamour roused him. Starting to his feet, he called out to Anne to know the cause of the disturbance.

"The Bruce is in the act of storming the city, father," she said.

"Then are the dreams of my ambition finished," replied Peter; "and we shall be the marks for the vengeance of these savages. I have no chance of escape. My money is gone, and the reward that will be given for it will be death."

"Fear not, father," said Anne, calmly; "thou art safe."

"Peter of Ghent," replied he, "who hath furnished money for the support of the city, will be among the first objects of the vengeance of the Bruce. Ha! I hear already the groans of the dying. Whither shall I fly, or where shall I conceal myself?"

"Thou canst be safe only in this house," said Anne. "The Bruce hath, by his sword, pledged his faith to me that Peter of Ghent shall be safe in life and limb."

"What meaneth the damsel's strange words?" cried the father. "Art thou mad? Where couldst thou have seen the Bruce?"

"Concern not thyself for that, father," replied she, with the same unperturbed air. "Thou art safe. The Bruce hath said it."

Peter looked at his daughter in blank wonder; and, as the sounds of horns, the clashing of swords, and the screams of the dying met his ear, he trembled and seemed irresolute whether he should repose faith in her words, or take means for his safety. A loud noise now approached the house; the door was burst open, and three naked caterans entered the apartment, with bloodstained swords gleaming in their hands. One of them rushed forwards, and, seizing Peter, was on the point of thrusting the weapon into his bosom.

"He is safe by the word of the Bruce," ejaculated Anne, as she rushed between the soldier and her father.

"His name, then?" cried one of the soldiers behind.

"Peter of Ghent," answered Anne.

The sword of the soldier was dropped in an instant.

"To pe sure he will pe safe if that pe his name," said the man, with a grim smile. "Te prince has said it. Here, Tuncan, guard this maiden and her father, while I and Tonald will pe after sending te neebours to their lang hames."

With these words the two caterans left the house, and joined the other soldiers who were careering through the city, and slaying every Anglicised Scot that came in their way. The guard Duncan remained in Peter's house, and sat with grim majesty, surveying in silence the terrified Fleming, who was lost in wonder at what he had seen and heard; for everything appeared to him a mystery. Others of the soldiers burst at intervals into the house, with the intent to slay the inmates; but Duncan silenced them all by the watchword, "Peter of Ghent," and at every demonstration of the charm the worthy burgher seemed more and more surprised. He questioned Anne as to the meaning of the strange effect of his name and of the unlooked-for security that it afforded to him who deserved death more than any one in the city, except the governor himself. But he got small satisfaction from the maiden, for she felt that it was impossible for her to explain the part she acted, without incurring the charge that she had been untrue to the cause of her father, and the rights of the governor and the king. Neither would Duncan give him any information but what tended rather to increase the mystery; for he merely said that it was the command of the Bruce that Peter of Ghent should be saved from the general massacre, and guarded safely from the fury of the soldiers by the first man that entered his house. In the midst of this mystery, a suspicion took possession of him, that Bruce wished to save him for a more cruel death, after the siege should be ended; and, notwithstanding of all that Anne could say to him to calm his fears, he still retained doggedly the apprehension, and sighed bitterly as he contemplated his expected fate.

"Thou hast given me no reason, girl," he whispered to her, "to satisfy me that I am not reserved for the heading-block. Bruce hath, of a verity, heard of the money I lent to the governor, and thou shalt by and by mourn the death of thy father. But what didst thou mean, Anne, by thy statement to the soldier, that I was safe by the word of the Bruce? Was it a device of thy quick fancy to save me from the sword of that man, who weareth no broadcloth on his body, and whose limbs are, of a consequence, as hard as his heart?"

"If thou wilt stand by thy pledge, father," answered Anne, "that I shall not be required to marry Oliphant, now that the city is taken, I will pledge a simple damsel's word that thou shalt be as safe from the headsman's falchion as thou art from the broadsword of that wild man, whose bare limbs terrify me more than the bright steel of the Bruce."

"Of a surety I will stand by my pledge, girl; but I cannot rest satisfied till I hear thy reason for the confidence thou reposest in the clemency of the Scottish leader, whose name is a terror to every enemy of his country."

"Nay, father, I am now trafficking with thee—driving a bargain, as thou sayest," replied she, with a smile, which the still terrified Fleming could not for the soul of him understand. "The bargain is concluded, and I cannot, for my honour, say more, even to my father."

"Tell me, man," cried Peter, to the Highlander, who still stood guarding the door, with the drawn sword in his hand—"tell me, since my daughter will not, what the Bruce intendeth to do with Peter of Ghent, whose name hath operated as a charm on thy ear?"

"Hoigh, hoigh, man!" replied Duncan; "ye'll pe trying to get secrets oot o' Tuncan Thu Mohr."

"I will give thee money, my brave preserver," rejoined Peter, as he ran forward. "Let me escape, and I will reward thee with ten nobles. Here they are—see, see—it is meet thou shouldst have them, seeing thou wilt get no share of the spoils of the city."

"Keep him securely," whispered Anne, in the ear of the Highlander, "and I will reward thee better on the morrow."

"Thou art mad, Anne. What means the rebellious wench?" cried Peter, angrily. "Thou hast become a trafficker with the enemies of thy father. Henceforth I have no faith in thee. Wilt thou not let me free, good Master Mohr?"

Duncan turned, and looked knowingly at Anne, who, he probably thought, was wishing to torment the old merchant.

"To pe surely, she will pe keeping her prisoner," said he, in aid of the imputed design of the fair accomplice, and with a twinkle in his eye. "Te auld merchant's head will pe worth more than te ten nobles, she will pe thinking."

"Dost thou not hear, Anne, that I am, as I suspected, doomed to lay my head on the block?" cried Peter again. "Thou hast apparently some power over the savage," he added, in a whisper; "aid me in bribing him, and we may yet escape to Flanders, with my wealth, otherwise thou wilt lose thy dowery, and I my head."

"I have told thee that thou art safe, and thou wilt not listen to me," replied she. "Thou oughtst to be thankful for thy condition. Hearest thou not the groans of the dying citizens amidst the loud clang of arms? Thousands are now dying, and thou hast a royal guard to save thee from harm; yet art thou grumbling at thy fate!"

During all this time, the work of destruction had been going on in all parts of the city. Bruce was well aware that the great evil he had to cure could only be overcome by extreme measures, and the better feelings of his nature had for a time given place to the thirst for vengeance for the many wrongs he had suffered from the tyrants, who had not only ruined the country, but stained his domestic hearth with the cruelties of persecution. He gave orders, on entering the city, that every Soot that had favoured Edward should die; and his command was but too literally obeyed—thousands on that night felt, in the pangs of death, the effects of his dreadful retaliation. When the day dawned, he collected his captains in the court hall of the city, for the purpose of issuing ordinances of confiscation, settling the terms on which the city should in future be held, and passing sentence on the governor, who had been taken alive, and stood in the hall bound in chains. Bruce sat in the chair of office, his captains were ranged around him, and by his left side sat two of the French squires already spoken of, who had trusted to the events of that siege for getting the leave of the bravest knights of these times to remove the bandages from their left eyes, and be declared entitled to the rights and honours of chivalry. The scene presented one of the most extraordinary aspects of these times of war and bloodshed. Bruce himself had fought hand to hand with the officers of the garrison, and slain every one who dared to withstand his terrible onset. His face and hands were covered with blood; his bright armour was stained; and the sword which he still held in his hand bore evidence to the work of deadly execution it had done against Scotland's foes. Sir James Douglas, Randolph, and others of the fiercest of his captains, bore the same grim aspect; and the French squires exhibited by their gore-stained shields that they merited the reward for which they looked, from the honour-dispensing sword of the king.

At a table before the king, there sat a man habited as a clerk, with a black cloak over his shoulders, and a small felt cap, that covered the crown of his head. He was busy calling forth the names of the inhabitants who had adhered to the cause of Edward; and, as he repeated them, the king awarded his fiat of confiscation of the effects of the individuals. As the man proceeded, he came to the name of Peter of Ghent, and Bruce paused. The recollections of Anne and her father had been, by the turmoils of the siege, for some time absent from his mind; but now his face glowed as the adventure of the preceding night flashed upon him, and the heroic conduct of the maiden was appreciated in the triumph he was now enjoying. He thought for a moment, and remembered that it was she who was to have been wedded to the governor. He could not account for the apparent contradiction between this purpose and the conduct of the girl in hailing him on to the siege of the city; but his quick mind at once suggested the solution that she had been hostile to the match, and that it had been projected merely by her father as a part of the transactions of the loan that had been given for the support of the city.

"Let Peter of Ghent and his fair daughter Anne be called to our presence," cried the king. And in a short time the wealthy Fleming, with Anne, who was covered with a deep veil, was led forwards in the midst of the assembled chiefs. It was apparent, from Peter's manner, that he was still actuated by the fear of punishment, for he trembled and shook all over, while Anne, looking at him with side-glances from beneath her veil, seemed to contemplate him with a mixed feeling of pity and good-humour. Bruce, who was anxious to see the face of the maiden who had acted so noble and fearless a part, would have requested her to lift her veil; but the high-bred feelings inculcated by the peculiar formula of knighthood induced him to wait till he could accomplish the object of his wish after the legitimate manner of the chevaliers. Turning to the trembling culprit, he raised his voice to the highest pitch.

"What does that inhabitant of old Scotland deserve," he said, as he fixed his eyes on Peter, "who giveth his means in aid of rebellion against his crowned king? Answer us, Peter of Ghent, according to the estimate thou formest of thine own act, in giving to Mr Oliphant, governor of our city, the money wherewith he endeavoured to resist our authority."

Peter was silent, for he was now satisfied that he had been spared to be reserved for the gallows or the heading-axe.

"Speak, sirrah!" cried the Bruce, assuming a more stern tone of authority.

"What it meriteth in the mind of Scotland's lawful king," replied Peter, at length; "but spare the old father for the sake of his child, and what is left of my substance shall go to support the crown, which a king's leniency to repentant subjects renders the more lustrous."

"Flattery is no atonement for rebellion," thundered out Bruce.

"God have mercy upon me!" cried Peter of Ghent. "Thou knowest, my liege, that I had no power to resist the command of the governor, when he demanded of me a thousand nobles; nor could I resist thy higher authority, wert thou to ask of me to lay another thousand at this moment at thy royal feet."

"Thou wouldst now even bargain for thy head, as thou didst for the marriage of thy fair daughter," cried Bruce. "Is it not true, sir, that thou didst sell the maiden to the traitor Oliphant?"

"It is even true that I did make it a condition of the advance of the thousand nobles, that he should fulfil the intentions he had manifested towards my daughter; yet I was not the less necessitated to give the money, seeing it would have been taken from me otherwise."

"Then what does the man merit who sells his daughter for the liberties of the country by whose industry and means he liveth?" replied the king. "I put it to the nobles here assembled."

"The heading-block—the heading-block," resounded in hoarse groans through the hall.

"Will she not yet throw off her veil?" muttered the king, as he cast his eyes on Anne.

"Lead Peter of Ghent to the block," he cried aloud.

Anne threw back her veil, and, with her face uncovered, cast herself at the feet of Bruce. The assembled lords fixed their eyes upon the damsel, as she occupied a position which exhibited the graces of her perfect figure, and the intelligence of her beautiful face lighted up with feelings which moved the hearts of the sternest warriors around. They were struck with the full blaze of a beauty that was not excelled by the fairest woman of Scotland in her day, and whispers went round among them that told eloquently the effect she had produced by the sudden display of her charms.

"Is this the reward, my liege," she said, in a clear, tuneful voice, "that is due to me for my humble efforts in behalf of the success of thine arms? Is this the faith of the Brace, whose name has filled the nations as the trumpet resounds within the palisades when honour is to be sought and won?"

A smile played upon the face of the king. The quick, dark eye of the maiden searched his heart, and was satisfied. A mantling blush, accompanied by a smile that seemed to respond to the humour of the king, enhanced her beauty, and showed that she understood the play that was enacted by the noble monarch.

"It is the privilege of beauty," said the king, still smiling, "to inspire its possessor with an unshaken faith in the sanctions of the brave. We are not oblivious, fair Anne of Ghent, of our promise, as this will testify." And he undid her own riband from his arm, and put it around the neck of the supplicant. "The colour of this streamer shall afterwards be that of the banner of Perth. Thy father is safe in life and limb; but tell us, fair damsel, what other method could we have adopted, to gratify our sense of justice and our love of beauty, than to show thy father that he owes his safety to thee, and to make thee throw off the veil that concealeth so fair a face?"

At this moment, one of the French squires, with his left eye bound up by a green riband, advanced to the feet of the king, and stood for a moment surveying the countenance of the supplicant.

"By the patron saint of the house of Leon," cried the Frenchman, "it is my fair queen of the lists! Knowest thou this silken band, lady, by which my left orb is occluded, and my affections bound to the giver?"

"If thou art Rolande de Leon," said Anne, as she rose, by the hand of the king, "thou canst tell if that gift was bestowed by my hands. To that valiant squire, Anne of Ghent did once award the humble pledge of a silken band, which was to remain on his temples till he achieved a feat of arms."

"Ha, well timed!" cried Bruce. "Hear the command of thy liege sovereign. We command Anne of Ghent to give the light of heaven to that occluded organ, which is so well entitled to see the glitter of the sword of knighthood, and the charms of her who restores it to its natural rights."

Anne proceeded, amidst the applause of the lords, to obey the commands of the king. With a firm hand, but a palpitating heart, she undid the bandage, as the Frenchman knelt at her feet.

"Rise not yet," said Bruce, when he saw the operation concluded; and, taking his sword, he touched the back of the squire, and pronounced the words, "Rise, Sir Rolande de Leon, one of the bravest knights that it has been our good fortune to see fighting under the blue banner of Scotland."

The knight rose, amidst the acclamation of the nobles. The clerk again proceeded with his monotonous vocation of calling out the names of the citizens. Peter, with his daughter, accompanied by Sir Rolande, left the court-room, and proceeded to his house, where, after proper explanations, the Fleming saw no reason to regret the taking of the city. On that same day, William Oliphant was beheaded. The town was quickly restored to order; and, before Bruce's army again set out on a new expedition, Anne of Ghent became the lady of Sir Rolande de Leon.

This brave knight accompanied Bruce through all his engagements, taking frequent opportunities, throughout the wars, of stealing a few days of the society of his fair Anne of Ghent. In a short time he was covered with honours; and, by the end of Scotland's period of direst strife and danger, old Peter of Ghent died, leaving a large fortune to his daughter. The couple, we have reason to believe, retired afterwards to a castle somewhere in Perthshire, to enjoy the peace and happiness of a domestic life, after so many toils and dangers. We have somewhere seen the arms afterwards adopted by the knight, in which three Lioncels rampant topaz figure on a field sapphire, crest, wreathed with a riband vert. The wreath we may easily understand; nor can we be at any loss for the derivation of the young Lions, seeing that, according to our authority, Anne bore Sir Rolande three sons, whose descendants, under the name of Lion, long lived in Perthshire; and, if we are not led astray by old writs, they afterwards intermarried with the Lions of Strathmore.