CHAPTER XXXV
THE LION AT BAY
The morning had broken broad and clear from the east when the door ofthe prison-house was opened, and a seneschal appeared. He saluted thebrothers, and in a shaking voice summoned them to come forth and betried for offences of treason and rebellion against the King and hisministers.
William of Douglas waved a hand to him, but answered nothing to thesummons. He wasted no words upon one who merely did as he was bidden.All night the brothers had sat looking out on the city hummingsleeplessly beneath them, till the light slowly dawned over the Forthand away to the eastward Berwick Law stood dwarfed and clear. At firstthey had sat apart, but as the hours stole on David came a littlenearer and his hand sought that of his brother, clasped it, and abodeas it had been contented. The elder brother returned the pressure.
"David," he said, "if perish we must, at least you and I will showthem how Douglases can die."
So when they rose to follow the seneschal who summoned them, as theyleft the chamber of detention and the clanking guard fell in behindthem, Earl William put his hand affectionately on his young brother'sshoulder and kept it there. In this wise they came into the greathall wherein yester-even the banquet of treachery had been served. Thedais had been removed to the upper end of the room, and upon it in thefurred robes of judges of the realm, there sat on either side of theempty throne Crichton the Chancellor and Sir Alexander Livingston.Behind were crowded groups of knights, pages, men-at-arms, and all thehangers-on of a court. But of men of dignity and place only theMarshal de Retz, ambassador of the King of France, was present.
He sat alone on a high seat ranged crosswise upon the dais. The floorin the centre of the hall was kept clear for the entrance of thebrothers of Douglas.
Crichton and Livingston looked uneasily at each other as the feet ofthe guard conducting the prisoners were heard in the corridor without,and with a quick, apprehensive wave of his hand Crichton motioned thearmed men of his guard closer about him, and gave their leaderdirections in a hushed voice behind his palm.
The seneschal who had summoned them strode in first, and then after asufficient interval entered the young Lords of Douglas, William andDavid his brother. The elder still kept one hand affectionately on theshoulder of the younger. His other was set as usual in the silken beltwhich he wore about his waist, and he walked carelessly, with a highair and an easy step, like one that goes in expectantly to a pleasantentertainment.
But as soon as the brothers perceived in whose presence they were, anair of pride came over their faces and stiffened their figures intothe sterner aspect of warriors who stand on the field of battle.
Some three paces before the steps of the dais on which sat theself-constituted judges was arranged a barrier of strong wooden poststipped with iron, and two soldiers with drawn swords were on guard ateither end.
The Douglases stood silent, haughtily awaiting the first words ofaccusation. And the face of young David was to the full as haughty andcontemptuous as that of Earl William himself.
It was the Chancellor who spoke first, in his high rasping creak.
"William, Earl of Douglas, and you David, called the Master ofDouglas," he began, "you are summoned hither by the King's authorityto answer for many crimes of treason against his royal person--forrebellion also and the arming of forces against his authority--forhigh speeches and studied contempt of those who represent hissovereign Majesty in this realm, for treasonable alliances with rebellords, and above all for swearing allegiance to another monarch, evento the King of France. What have you to say to these charges?"
The Earl of Douglas swept his eyes across the dais from side to sidewith a slow contempt which made the Chancellor writhe in his chair.Then after a long pause he deigned to reply, but rather like a kingwho grants a favour than like one accused before judges in whose handsis the power of life and death.
"I see," said he, "two knights before me on a high seat, one theKing's tutor, the other his purse-bearer. I have yet to learn whoconstituted them judges of any cause whatsoever, still less of aughtthat concerns William Douglas, Duke of Touraine, Earl of Douglas,hereditary Lieutenant-Governor of the realm of Scotland."
And he kept his eyes upon them with a straight forth-looking glance,palpably embarrassing to the traitors on the dais.
"Earl Douglas," said the Chancellor again, "pray remember that you arenot now in Castle Thrieve. Your six thousand horsemen wait not in thecourtyard out there. Learn to be more humble and answer to the thingswhereof you are accused. Do you desire that witness should bebrought?"
"Of what need are witnesses? I own no court or jurisdiction. I haveheard no accusations!" said the Earl William.
The Chancellor motioned with his hand, whereupon Master Robert Berry,a procurator of the city, advanced and read a long parchment which setforth in phrase and detail of legality twenty accusations against theEarl,--of treason, rebellion, and manifest oppression.
When he had finished the Chancellor said, "And now, Earl Douglas, whatanswer have you to these things?"
"Does it matter at all what I answer?" asked the Earl, succinctly.
"I do not bandy words with you," said the Chancellor; "I order you tomake your pleading, or stand within your danger."
"And yet," said William Douglas, gravely, "words are all that you darebandy with me. Even if I honoured you by laying aside my dignities andconsented to break a lance with you, you would refuse to afford metrial by battle, which is the right of every peer accused."
"'Tis a barbarous custom," said the Chancellor; "we will try your caseupon its merit."
The Earl laughed a little mocking laugh.
"It will be somewhat safer," said he, "but haste you and get the shamdone with. I plead nothing. I do not even tell you that you lie. Whatdoth one expect of a gutter-dog but that it should void the garbage ithath devoured? But I do ask you, Marshal de Retz, as a brave soldierand the representative of an honourable King, what you have done withthe Lady Sybilla?"
The Marshal de Retz smiled--a smile so chill, cruel, hard, that thevery soldiers on guard, seeing it, longed to slay him on the spot.
"May I, in return, ask my Lord Earl of Douglas and Duke of Tourainewhat is that to him?" he said, with sneering emphasis upon the titles.
"It matters to me," replied William Douglas, boldly, "more than life,and almost as much as honour. The Lady Sybilla did me the grace totell me that she loved me. And I in turn am bound to her in life anddeath."
The Chancellor and the tutor broke into laughter, but the marshalcontinued to smile his terrible smile of determinate evil.
"Listen," he said at last, "hear this, my Lord of Touraine; ever sincewe came to this kingdom, and, indeed, long before we left the realm ofFrance, the Lady Sybilla intended nothing else than your deception anddestruction. Poor dupe, do you not yet understand? She it was thatcozened you with fair words. She it was that advised you to comehither that we might hold you in our hands. For her sake you obeyed.She was the willing bait of the trap your foes set for you. What thinkyou of the Lady Sybilla now?"
William of Douglas did not answer in words, but as the marshal ceasedspeaking, he drew himself together like a lithe animal that sways thisway and that before springing. His right hand dropped softly from hisbrother's shoulder upon the hilt of his own dagger.
Then with one sudden bound he was over the barrier and upon the dais.Almost his blade was at the marshal's throat, and but for the crossedpartisans of two guards who stood on either side of de Retz, he had diedthere and then by the dagger of William Douglas. As it was, the youthwas brought to a stand with his breast pressed vainly against the steelpoints, and paused there crying out in fury, "Liar and toad! Come outfrom behind these varlets that I may slay thee with my hand."
A score of men-at-arms approached from behind, and forced the youngman back to his place.
"Bring in the Lady Sybilla," said the marshal, still smiling, whilethe judges sat silent and afraid at the anger of one man.
And even whi
le the Earl stood panting after his outburst of furiousanger, they opened the door at the back of the dais and through itthere entered the Lady Sybilla. Instantly the eyes of William Douglasfixed themselves upon her, but she did not raise hers nor look at him.She stood at the farther side at the edge of the dais, her handsjoined in front of her, and her hair streamed down her back and fellin waves over her white dress.
An angel of light coming through the open door of heaven could nothave appeared more innocent and pure.
The Marshal de Retz turned towards his sister-in-law, and, with hiseyes fixed upon hers and with the same pitiless chill in them, he saidin a low tone, "Look at me."
The girl raised her eyes slowly, and, as it had been, reluctantly, andin them, instead of the meek calm of an angel, there appeared theterror and dismay of a lost soul that listens to its doom.
"Sybilla," hissed rather than spoke de Retz, "isit true that ever since by the lakeside of Carlinwark you met the Earlof Douglas you have deceived him and sought his doom?"
"I care not to hear the answer," said the young man, "even did Ibelieve that which you by your power may compel her to say. Unfaith inanother is not unfaith in me. I am bound to this lady in love andhonour--aye, even unto death, if that be her will!"
"I have, indeed, deceived him!" replied the girl, slowly, the wordsseeming to be forced from her one by one.
"You hear, William of Douglas!" said the marshal, turning upon theyoung man, who stood still and motionless, never taking his eyes offthe slender figure in white.
The marshal continued his pitiless questioning.
"At Castle Thrieve you persuaded him to follow you to Crichton andafterwards to Edinburgh, knowing well that you brought him to hisdeath."
"It is true!" said the girl, with a voice like one speaking out of thegrave itself.
"You hear, William of Douglas!" said the marshal.
"And at Castle Crichton you played the play to the end. With falsecozening words you deceived this young man. You led him on with loveon your lips and hate in your heart. You kissed him with the Judaskiss. You led his soul captive to death by the drawing of your eyes."
In a voice that could hardly be heard the girl replied, her wholefigure fixed and turned to stone by the intensity of her tormentor'sgaze.
_"I did these things! I am accursed!"_
The ambassador turned with a fleering triumph.
"You hear, William of Douglas," he said, "you hear what your true lovesays!"
Then it was that, with the calm air and steady voice of a greatgentleman, William Douglas answered, "I hear, but I do not believe."
A spasm of joy passed over the countenance of the Lady Sybilla. Shehalf sprang towards her lover as if to clasp him in her arms.
But in the midst, between intent and act, she restrained herself.
"No, I am not worthy," she said. And again, and lower, like alamentation, "I am not worthy!"
Then, while all watched eagerly, the marshal rose from his seat to hisfull height.
"Girl--look at me!" he cried in a loud and terrible voice. But Sybilladid not seem to hear him.
She was looking at the Earl, and her eyes were great and grey andvague.
"Listen, my true lord, and then hate me if you will," she said;"listen, William of Douglas. Never before have I found in all theworld one man true to the core. I did not believe that such an onelived. Hear this and then turn from me in loathing.
"For the sake of this man's life, forfeit ten times over" (shepointed, as she spoke, at the marshal), "to whom, by the powers ofhell, my soul is bound, I came at the bidding of the King of Franceand of this man, my master, to compass the destruction of the Earl ofDouglas. Our King's son desired his duchy, and promised to this manpardon for his evil deeds. I came to satisfy them both. On my guiltyhead be the punishment. It is true that I cozened and led you on. Itis true that at Castle Thrieve I deceived you, knowing well that whichwould happen. I knew to what you would follow me, and for the sake ofthe evil wrought by your fathers, I was glad. But afterwards atCrichton, when, in the woods by the waterside, I told you that I lovedyou, I did not lie. I did love you then. And by God's grace I do loveyou now--yea, before all men I declare it. Once for a season ofglorious forgetting, all too brief, I was yours to love, now I amyours to hate and to despise. I tried to save you, but though you hadmy warning you would not go back or forget me. Now it is too late!"
As she spoke over the face of William Douglas there had come aglow--the red blood flooding up and routing the white determinedpallor of his cheek.
"My lady," he answered her, gently, "be not grieved for a little thingthat is past. That you love me truly is enough. I ask for no more,least of all for pity. I have not lived long. I have not had timeallotted me wherein to do great things, but for your sake I can die aswell as any! You have given me of your love, and of the flowerthereof. I am glad. That you have loved me was my crown of life. Nowit remains but to pay a little price soon paid, for a joy exceedinggreat."
But the Chancellor had had enough of this. He rose, and, stretchingforth his hand towards the barrier, he said: "William of Douglas, youand your brother are condemned to instant death as enemies of the Kingand his ministers. Soldiers, do your duty. Lead them forth to theblock!"
And with these words he left the dais, followed by Sir AlexanderLivingston. The girl stood in the place whence she had spoken her lastwords. Then, as the men-at-arms went shamefacedly to take the Earl bythe arm, she suddenly threw herself across the platform, leapedlightly over the barrier, and fell into his arms.
"William, once I would have betrayed you," she said, "but now I loveyou. I will die with you--or by the great God I will live to avengeyou."
"Hush, sweetheart," said William Douglas, touching her brow gentlywith his lips, and putting her into the arms of an officer of thecourt whom her uncle had sent to remove her. "Fear not for me! Deathis swift and easy. I expected nothing else. That you love me isenough! Dear love, fare thee well!"
But the girl heard him not. She had fainted in the arms that held her.Yet the Marshal de Retz had still more for her to suffer. He stoodbeside her and dashed water upon her till she awoke, that she mightsee that which remained to be done.
* * * * *
It was a scene dreary beyond all power of words to tell it, when intothe courtyard of the Castle of Edinburgh they brought the two nobleyoung men forth to die. The sun had long risen, but the first flush ofbroad morning sunshine still lingered upon the low platform on whichstood the block, and beside it the headsman sullenly waiting to do hisappointed work.
The young Lords of Douglas came out looking brave and handsome asbridegrooms on a day of betrothing. William had once more his hand onDavid's shoulder, his other rested carelessly on his thigh as hiscustom was. The brothers were bareheaded, and to the eyes of those wholooked on they seemed to be conversing together of light matters oflove and ladies' favours.
High above upon a balcony, hung like an iron cage upon the castlewall, appeared the Chancellor and the tutor. The young King was withthem, weeping and crying out, "Do nothing to my dear cousins--Icommand you--I am the King!"
But the tutor roughly bade him be still, telling him that he wouldnever reign if these young men lived, and presently another came thereand stood beside him. The Marshal de Retz it was, who, with a fiendishsmile upon his sleek parchment face, conducted the Lady Sybilla to seethe end. But it was a good end to see, and nobler far than most livesthat are lived to fourscore years.
The brothers embraced as they came to the block, kneeled down, andsaid a short prayer like Christians of a good house. So great wastheir enemies' haste that they were not allowed even a priest toshrive them, but they did what they could.
The executioner motioned first to David. An attendant brought him theheading cup of wine, which it was the custom to offer to those aboutto die upon the scaffold.
"Drink it not," said Earl William, "lest they say it was drugged."
And David Douglas bowed
his head upon the block, being only in thefifteenth year of his age.
"Farewell, brother," he said, "be not long after me. It is a darksomeroad to travel so young."
"Fear not, Davie lad," said William Douglas, tenderly, "I willovertake you ere you be through the first gate."
He turned a little aside that he might not see his brother die, andeven as he did so he saw the Lady Sybilla lean upon the balcony palerthan the dead.
Then when it came to his turn they offered the Earl William also theheading cup filled with the rich wine of Touraine, his own fairprovince that he was never to see.
He lifted the cup high in his right hand with a knightly and courtlygesture. Looking towards the balcony whereon stood the Lady Sybilla,he bowed to her.
"I drink to you, my lady and my love," he cried, in a voice loud andclear.
Then, touching but the rim of the goblet with his lips, he poured outthe red wine upon the ground.
* * * * *
And thus passed the gallantest gentleman and truest lover in whom Godever put heart of grace to live courteously and die greatly, keepinghis faith in his lady even against herself, and holding death itselfsweet because that in death she loved him.