CHAPTER XV.
To the surprise of Iola, and certainly not less to that of good IbnAyoub, though with Mahommedan gravity he gave no voice to his wonder,Chartley burst into a violent fit of laughter.
"Good Heaven, what is it?" exclaimed Iola, looking up; and at the samemoment Chartley sprang down from the chair, still laughing.
"Forgive me, dear Iola," he said, taking her little hand and kissingit, "but did you ever see the devil play on a bag-pipe?"
"I never saw the devil at all," replied Iola, with a bewildered look;"but I do not understand what you mean."
"I mean, sweet friend, that this is evidently a piper, and, if Imistake not much, 'tis man I saw in Tamworth this very morning andyesterday also. He seemed the life and soul of the people round, amerry happy-hearted fellow, whom they call Sam the Piper, with abreast without guile, if one may judge by his face, which bespeaks himno one's enemy but his own. Strange to say, he would drink neitherwine nor ale, though I offered him either, and though his facebetrayed many a potation past, if not present. Stay a while. I will goout and see. If it be the man I mean, I will bring him in; for by allmeans we will have the piper of our faction."
"But are you sure that it is safe?" said Iola, timidly, but holdinghis arm to detain him.
"Oh, he will not betray us," exclaimed Chartley; "and besides we cankeep him here as long as we like."
"But if it should prove to be the--the--" said Iola, adding, after amoment's pause, "some evil being."
Chartley laughed again; and gently putting his arm round her for asingle instant, he said--
"Fear not, Iola. With the angels in those eyes upon my side, I wouldundertake to protect you against all the evil spirits in theuniverse."
Iola dropped the eyelids over the lustrous orbs below; and a blushspread over her cheek like the crimson light of the setting sun.Chartley instantly withdrew his arm; and repeating--"Fear not," heopened the door and went out of the hall.
A few words were then heard, spoken without; and a moment after here-entered, followed by Sam the Piper, with his beloved instrumentstill tight under his arm. The good man's steps were not quite steady,and certainly it was not natural feebleness that caused theirvacillation. Yet his eye was clear and bright; and his merry voiceseemed not in the least thickened by any liquor he might have imbibed.
"Gad ye good night, lords and ladies, gad ye good night," he said, ashe entered, making a low obeisance, and producing at the same time alamentable squeak from his chanter. "Gad ye good night, tawny Moor. Idid not think to see your beautiful black face again for many a day.Gad ye good night, fairest of ladies. To see you and his dark lordshiphere, one would think one's self upon the confines of the upper andthe nether world, with angels on the one side and devils on theother."
"Meaning me for one, knave," said Chartley, giving him a good-humouredshake.
"Ah, mercy, mercy, noble sir," cried the piper in a pitiful tone."Shake me not; for my legs are not made of iron to-night, and mystomach is as full as my bag when well blown up."
"But your stomach has something stronger than air in it, if I mistakenot," said Chartley, laughing, "Come tell me, sirrah, how it happensthat you, who would take no strong drink yesterday, are well nighdrunk tonight."
"There's no contradiction in that," replied the man, "though I take noliquor, liquor may overtake me; and if a man is overtaken in liquor,the fault's in the liquor, not in him."
"Still, if the fault's in the liquor, and the liquor in him, the faultis in him," answered Chartley; "for learned doctors say that the thingwhich contains another contains all that it contains."
"But, then," replied the piper, who, like many of his class, wasexceedingly fond of chopping logic; "if the fault's in the liquor, andthe liquor in him, he cannot be in fault, for the thing that containscannot be in the thing contained. But marry, my good lord, the truthis, I made a promise to good sister Alice at the convent, not to getdrunk at Tamworth fair, and gloriously I redeemed my word, andgloriously I got drunk afterwards."
While this dialogue had been proceeding, Iola stood by, marvellinggreatly at all she heard; for it was a scene altogether new to her,and one of which, in her simplicity and ignorance of the world's ways,she could have formed no conception. In her ramblings hither andthither, which her good aunt had permitted pretty liberally, she mightindeed have seen, now and then, a drunken man, for alas, drunkennessis a virtue of no particular age; but she had never met with the merryreckless wine-bibber--one of the peculiar character of the goodpiper--who has an excuse for his sins always ready, by which he doesnot impose upon himself.
After a few more words of the same kind, Chartley moved her chair forher back to the fire, seated himself as before on the stool by herside, and, while the Arab resumed his place, pointed to the oppositeside, saying to the piper, "There, sit you down, and tell us whatyou've seen in the forest to-night."
"Good faith, I have seen nothing," answered Sam, "for the night'sdark, and I have been somewhat dark too. After I had been to the abbeyfor the morning dole, to show good sister Alice that I had kept myword and was quite sober, I went away to the first tavern, and, withall the pence I had collected in the fair, bought myself a stoup ofsmall wine, and a farthing's worth of sugar. Your lordship's groathelped me wonderfully. Then, not liking the thought of a forcibledivision of my property, I brought my wine up here, ensconced me inthe doorway of the little tower, and went on sipping till I fellasleep. When I woke, it was black night; but there was still somethingleft in my wine-pot, and I set to again to gain courage, and to keepout the cold. When I looked abroad, however, I soon saw that somebodyhad lighted a fire in the court; and I crept round and round on thewalls, to see who it was, saying Paters and Aves all the time, andthinking it might be the devil had done it; for he, it is said, keepsup the best fire in his house of any man."
Lord Chartley gave a meaning and merry glance to Iola; and Iola smiledin return.
"At length, seeing no one there," continued the piper, "I ventureddown into the court to warm myself, when suddenly your lordshipcame upon me, and took me prisoner. I suppose it was my mad pipesbetrayed me, for, like a chattering wife, they are always talkingwhere they should not, unless I am careful to blow all the wind outof the bag. However, I am never much afraid of robbers, plunderers,camp-followers, or anything, for nobody meddles with a piper. Youcannot have more of a cat than her skin, nor of a piper than hispipes, and neither the one nor the other is of much use to those whodo not know how to handle them."
Chartley mused for a minute or two, and then said in a low tone to hisfair companion:
"Do you not think, dear lady, that we could make use of this merryribald, to communicate our situation here to those who could give usintelligence--ay, and even help in case of need. It is very sweet," hecontinued, tenderly, "to sit here by your side, whiling away thelivelong hours of night, with one so fair and gentle. But I must notforget your comfort in my own happiness. You have passed a weary andan anxious night, and the sooner I can restore you to your friends, totranquillity and repose, the better. I must find some other moment,"he added rapidly, "brighter and calmer, to say more of myself--I thinkthat we may use this man, who will not be stopped by the soldiery, tobear tidings of where you are----"
"Oh yes," exclaimed Iola, "let him go as quickly as possible to theabbey. My aunt will be sadly anxious about me."
"I fear that would be dangerous," replied Chartley. "Rather let him goto the woodman, tell him where we are, request him to send usinformation and advice, and, if possible, to communicate to theabbess, that you are quite safe. That I think is the best course topursue."
"Perhaps it is," answered Iola; and then in a lower tone, she added,"if you can quite trust to this man--he seems a libertine and adrunkard."
"You must not judge him too harshly," replied Chartley. "Most men,especially of his class, have their peculiar vices; but, though it mayseem strange, from those vices you must not imply others of adifferent class and character. Nay, more, there are faults w
hich arealmost always accompanied by certain better qualities; and, from whatI know of the world, I am inclined to think, that this man's goodfaith might be better trusted than that of many a sanctimonious friaror smooth-spoken propriety-loving trader."
"But is he fit?" asked Iola. "To me he seems hardly sober."
"Oh fit enough," answered Chartley. "With daily tipplers a certainportion of good wine is needful to sharpen their senses. That givesthem wit which takes away the wits of other men; and he is not likelyto find more drink in the forest unless he apply to the purestream.--Hark ye, good master piper. Tell me how much discretion isleft in that noddle of yours?"
"Enough to prevent me running my head against a post, or leadinganother into a ditch," answered the piper. "Now, good my lord, did Inot come down the stairs, from the little turret into the courtyard,with every stone step as frail and moveable as the rounds ofambition's ladder?"
"And thou art trustworthy, methinks," said Chartley, in a musing tone.
"Else have I drunk many a butt of good liquor to no purpose," repliedthe piper.
"How should that make thee trustworthy?" demanded the young lord.
"Because the liquor was sound and honest, my lord," replied the piper;"and as by this time it must have penetrated every part, I should besound and honest too. Moreover, it was best half drunk in secret, sothat secrecy's a part of my composition also."
"Well, I will trust thee," replied Chartley, "and if thou wilt win agold angel, thou shalt have the means of doing so."
"I will not debate upon the question long," said Sam, starting up. "Iam always ready to go upon a pilgrimage, and far readier to worship agold angel than a painted saint. Let me see, six stoups, at oneshilling and two pence the stoup, would be--soul of my body, there'sdrink for a week in a gold angel."
"There, there, cease your calculations," cried Chartley; "first winthe angel, and then use it discreetly afterwards."
"So shall it be my better angel," said the piper, laughing, andwinking his eye. "But how is the celestial coin to be obtained, mylord?"
"Listen, and you shall hear," replied the young nobleman; "and beserious now, for this is a matter of importance. Do you know Boyd, thehead woodman of the abbey?"
"Do I know the great oak of Ashton?" exclaimed Sam. "Do I know the oldtower of Tamworth? Do I know anything that men frequenting thisneighbourhood see every day? Why, Boyd has given me both a beating anda breakfast, at times, has made my back groan under a cudgel and undera bacon. That last was a-good deed, for it saved my boy, who is nowover the sea with the Marquis of Dorset, from starving, when he washid away in Mount Sorel wood. Oh yes, we all know Boyd; the roughesttongue, the hardest hand, the clearest eye, and the kindest heart inthe country."
"Well then," said Chartley, "I wish you to find him out, and to tellhim for me, that I am here in the old castle, and have a lady withme whom he wots of. My name I suppose you have learned from thehorse-boys, by your be-lording me so often; and he will divine who thelady is; if you tell him that she is with me, and safe, but that wedare not venture forth without further information, while thesesoldiers are watching the wood. Let him send word to the lady'sfriends that she is in security, but, above all, give us intelligenceand help if he can."
"Soldiers watching the wood?" said the piper, in a tone of surprise.
"Ay, even so," answered Chartley. "Thou, hast been like one of theseven sleepers, my friend, and hast dozed, unconscious, while greatevents were going on around thee. Half the houses on the abbey greenhave been burned; and there are bands now upon all the great roads ofthe wood. Does that frighten thee?"
"Not a whit," cried the piper. "How should it frighten me? They couldbut slash the sow's stomach under my arm, or my own; and neither theone nor the other is worth the sharpening of a knife. They'll not harmme; for all your mud-splashing, sheep-stealing, wench-kissing,big-oathed, blaspheming horse troopers are fond of a minstrel; and Iwill strike up my pipes when I come near the high road, to let themknow who I am. It may be a signal to old Boyd too, if he's wanderingthrough the wood, as most likely he is; for, like a ghost, he goesabout more by night than by day.--Burned half the houses on the abbeygreen! That's serious. By my pipes, some necks'll be twisted for it, Ithink."
"I trust there will," answered Chartley; "but now set out upon yourerrand, my good man, and when next you see me, my message beingdelivered, claim of me a gold angel; but if you say a word of it toany one else but Boyd himself, when next I see you, you shall haveanother sort of payment."
The piper laughed, and, giving the bag under his arm a squeeze, madehis pipes squeak in a very ludicrous manner. Then quitting the hall,with a steadier step than that with which he had entered, he took hisway down through the wood which had often been his home during many awarm summer night. Most of the paths were familiar to him; andtrudging on, he entered one of the broader ways, which led directly tothe high road that divided the forest into two unequal parts. After hehad gone on for about half a mile, he heard voices speaking, andpaused for an instant to consider. "I will be very drunk," he said tohimself. "Drunkenness is often as good a cloak as hypocrisy. All menmake their garments out of the skins of beasts, and the smoothest arenot always the thickest. Here go I then;" and, assuming a reeling andunsteady step, he blew up the bag of his pipes, and soon, from thevarious stops, produced a gay wild air, which would have been prettyenough, but for the continued dull squeaking with which it wasaccompanied.
"Ha, who goes there?" cried a voice, a minute or two after, as heemerged upon the road; and two mounted men were immediately by hisside.
"Sam the piper, Sam the piper," he answered, in drunken accents. "Andwho are you, jolly boys? What do you keep the king's highway for? Areyou looking to see if any man has dropped his purse? If so, I cryshares; for by St. Dominic, there's nothing in mine. Now, marry, if afat priest were to fall in your way, I would rather be his muleafterwards than before."
"Why so, knave?" asked one of the men.
"Marry, because he'd ride lighter, I've a notion," replied Sam.
"Ha, say'st thou so, knave?" cried one of the men, lifting up his handto strike him; but the other interposed, saying--
"Nay, nay, 'tis Sam the piper. He has a fool's privilege, and means noharm. Besides the man is drunk."
"Come, tell me, knave," exclaimed the other, "whither thou hast beenwandering in the wood?"
"Nay, Heaven knows," answered the piper, "wherever wine and destinyled me. I have been asleep half the time; and since I woke, I havebeen walking about in the cool, to clear my complexion, and get thefumes of Tamworth fair out of my head; for I felt my knees weaker thanthey ought to be, and a solemn sort of haziness of the wits, just suchas the preaching parson at Ashton must have after writing one of hissermons, and his congregation do have after hearing one."
The two soldiers laughed, and the fiercer of the two demanded--
"Did'st thou meet any man in the forest?
"Not till I met your reverences," replied the piper. "I do not knowwhat any man should do here, unless it were to sleep off a tipsy fit,lose his way, or pick up a purse, though the last has grown a raritysince the wars came to an end. In former times men might gather purseslike blackberries upon every bush. That was when I was a soldier. Butthat whorson poke with a pike I got at Barnet crippled my crupperjoint for life, and made me walk unsteady, which causes the poor foolsto say I am drunk, though all the world knows that I live like ananchorite, eat herbs and roots, when I can get no flesh, and drinkpure water, when there's neither wine nor ale to be had. Give you goodden, my masters--What's the time o'day?"
"Night, you drunken dolt," replied one of the men. "It's matins bythis time, but are you sure that you have not seen a man in a friar'sgown? If you lie to me, your ears won't be safe for the next month.
"A man in a friar's gown?" said the piper with a hiccup, "ay, to besure I did."
"When? Where?" cried the soldiers eagerly.
"Why, in Tamworth, yesterday morning," answered the piper; and one ofthe men,
giving him a smart blow with his fist, told him to go on hisway, with no very commendatory valediction.
Playing his part admirably well, the piper reeled down the road,passing two other patroles, each of which stopped and interrogatedhim, as the other men had done; somewhat more briefly, however, whenthey found he had been stopped and questioned before. At length,sitting down by the road side, as if his legs refused to carry himfarther, when two of his interrogators had just passed on, he waitedtill they had gone to a little distance, and then plunged into thewood. He soon forced his way on, to one of the lesser paths, but therehe stopped to consider, saying to himself--"How shall I make Boydhear, if he be roaming about? I'll go straight to his house; but thisforest is for all the world like a rabbit burrow; and I may be poppingout of one hole while he is popping into another, if I cannot contriveto send some messenger to his ears, that will run a few hundred yardson each side of me, at least. I must not try the pipes again, but Iwill make the belling of a deer. If he hears that at this season ofthe year, he will be sure to come up to see what's the matter."
Accordingly, by placing his fingers after a fashion of his own uponhis lips, he contrived to produce a very accurate imitation of thepeculiar call of the deer at certain periods of the year; he continuedto emit these sounds from time to time, as he walked on, till atlength he heard a rustle in the brushwood near.
"Now that's either a stag," he said to himself, "who, like a younggallant of nineteen, makes love at all times and seasons, and I shallhave his horns in my stomach in a minute; or else it is Boyd or one ofhis men, and I have hit the mark. I must risk the horns, I fancy."
A moment after, a low voice said--
"Who goes there?"
"Sam the piper," answered our good friend, "looking for what he cannotfind;" and the next moment, pushing through the shrubs, the tall andpowerful form of the woodman stood before him.
"Ah, Sam," said Boyd, "what are you seeking, you drunken dog?"
"Seeking you, master Boyd," answered Sam in a very different tone fromthat in which he had addressed the soldiers. "I have news for you."
"Ay, and what may that be?" demanded Boyd, with the utmostindifference of manner; "some of the gossip of Tamworth I suppose. Thebailiff has beat his wife, or the mercer's daughter has gone off withthe smart apprentice; but I have other things to think of, master Sam,to-night. Have you heard that the rough bands from Coleshill haveburnt the houses on the abbey green?"
"Yes, I've heard of it," answered Sam; "and there has been a greatfire up at the old castle too."
The woodman started.
"At the old castle! What do you mean?" he exclaimed. "Who should burnthe old castle?"
"I didn't say it had been burned," replied the piper. "I only saidthat there was a great fire there; and very comfortable it was too,considering the cold night and the good company."
"Speak out, man! What do you mean?" demanded the woodman sternly."This is no time for fool's play."
"I think not," answered the piper; "and so the plain truth is, that Iwas ordered, by a certain young lord, to tell you, that a certainyoung lady is up there safe with him and his tawny Moor, and that theyare afraid to stir out while the wood is watched by the soldiers,without farther information and advice; and they look to you to giveboth, and moreover to send intelligence to her friends, that she isquite safe. There, I have delivered my message, better than evermessage was delivered before, for I have given it word for word, andyou may make the best of it."
"Up there, with him alone throughout the night!" said the woodman, ina tone of no very great approbation. "Yet he may be trusted, Ithink--but still 'twere better not. What will the other feel, when hehears of it?--No matter. It cannot be helped. There is nothing else tobe done."
"Oh yes, there is," answered the piper; "if you could take them up astoup of wine, or a black jack of good strong beer, you would do more;for, if I judge rightly, they have nothing to keep up the spirits, orsupport the body; or amuse the time, unless it be making love, andthat is cold work without meat or drink."
"Listen to this fool now!" said the woodman, "how he hits the nailaright--I will go up myself."
"They will not thank you if you come empty-handed," answered thepiper; "and you had better take me with you, to show you the way; forthe forest is changed since you last saw it, and there are livingtrees on the high road, which stop up the paths, and move to and fro."
"I understand thee, piper," answered the woodman. "Thou art a shrewdknave with thine enigmas. Come along with me then. I will try to makethee useful, for the first time in thy life."
"Not useful!" said the piper, as the woodman moved on, taking a branchof the path that led away to the right. "I am the most useful man inthe whole hundred. What would weddings be without me, or baptismseither? How many quarrels do my sweet notes allay? How often do I makepeace between man and wife, by drowning her shrill voice by myshriller notes, and outroaring him with my drone? Go to, you wouldnever get on without me--Useful, quotha? But where are you going, now?This is not the way to the castle."
"I am going to take thy sage advice," replied the woodman, "which onordinary occasions is not worth a groat. But we may as well carry upsome provisions; and for that purpose, as well as others, I must takemy cottage by the way. But now hold thy peace, man, for I would havemy thoughts clear."
Thus saying, he strode on before, the piper following, till theyreached the broader road, which passed the cottage, and came in sightof the little green.
"Hist, hist," said the piper. "There is some one before the door. Itmay be one of the soldiers who set fire to the houses."
"Then I will cleave his skull with my axe," answered the woodman,lightly; "but, 'tis only David. Go on--get thee into the house. I wantto speak, to him;" and striding forward, he approached the man, andspoke a few words to him, of which the piper could only distinguish afew, though he was all ears.
"By half-past five," said the woodman, "as many as you can, and wellarmed."
"At the old castle?" asked the man.
"Yes," answered the woodman, "under the gateway. The sky will be greyby that time. Quarrel not with the soldiers, if you can help it. Sayyou are but doing your needful service; but keep to it sturdily. Nay,now I think of it, 'twere better to gather in the wood upon the hillbefore the castle, especially if the soldiers follow you. There, beginhewing down the young trees which we marked for cutting out, and runup to the gate if you should hear my horn. Now away, and bring all youcan; but mind you send Adam up on his pony at once to the abbey."
The man replied not, but ran away with a peculiarly quick but easytrot; and Boyd entered the hut, where he found the piper standing verynear the door. He felt inclined to ask him why he had not gone in,feeling sure that he had lingered to listen; but there, just beforehim, stood the great deer-hound Ban, neither growling nor attemptingto seize the intruder, but gazing at him with a very fierce andformidable expression of countenance, which might well daunt even astout heart in the breast of an unarmed man. The moment the dog sawhis master, however, he dropped his stiffened tail and raised ears;and the woodman said, "Now, Sam, come you with me, and we will loadourselves with food for the nonce. Here, sling this great bottle underyour right arm, to balance your bag-pipes, and take this loaf uponyour back. I will carry the rest; but I must leave my right hand free,in case of need, to use my weapon."
"But how am I to use my weapon, if you load me so?" asked the piper,making his instrument give a squeak.
"The less you use it the better," answered the woodman.
"I say the same of all weapons," rejoined Sam. "But never mind, put onthe load, and let us go."
Their arrangements were soon complete, and with a rapid pace theygained once more the edge of the high roads and there paused under thetrees, to watch the proceedings of the enemy. The same vigilant patrolwas kept up; but the woodman marked it with a smile.
"They think the person they seek must have taken refuge there," hesaid in a whisper to his companion, "because he could
not pass by thehamlet or the lower road, without falling in with them; but if theykeep their parties so loose, I would pass a hundred men across, one byone. I will go first, and you follow. He waited till the next coupleof soldiers had ridden slowly by, and then with a silent step crossedto the opposite side of the road, where he paused for his companion;but the poor piper had nearly brought himself into a dangeroussituation, by a hankering for the great bottle which hung under hisarm. In extracting, with his stout finger and thumb, the cork from themouth, he produced a sound loud enough to make two of the soldiersstop, and then ride up to the spot; but his bagpipe once more savedhim; for squeezing the bag hard, and running his fingers over thepipe, he produced a series of sounds only to be equalled by those oftwo cats in a gutter; and one of the soldiers exclaimed:
"It is only that drunken piper again. Cease your squalling, knave, orI'll break your pate."
The sound of the pipe instantly stopped; and the moment the two menhad gone on, the piper passed the road and joined his companion. Therest of the way was speedily accomplished, and, a little before five,the woodman approached the gates of the old castle. There he paused,and, after a moment's thought, turned to his companion, saying:
"It would be a great advantage to us, my good friend, Sam, if we couldget some information of the movements of these bands."
"I'll undertake it," said the piper, whom success had made bold. "Youshall have tidings of any change in their dance. But you must give mesomething to wet my mouth first, Master Boyd."
"Well, well," answered the woodman, set the bottle to your lips, butonly drink to the peg, do you hear? Stay, I'll hold my hand upon it,and stop you; for you must leave some for others, and not take toomuch yourself.
The piper took a deep draught, and was only stayed by his companionsnatching the bottle from him. Then followed a consultation as to whatwas to be done in the many contingencies which might arise. It wasagreed that, if the piper did not return within half an hour afterday-break, the party in the castle should conclude he had beendetained by the soldiery; that if he came back without being followed,and having remarked no movement of importance, he should play a lowand quiet air upon his instrument; while, on the contrary, if thesoldiers were at his heels, and danger menacing, he should come onwith a quick loud march.
This being settled, he departed on his errand; and, passing over thefrail remains of the bridge, the woodman entered the great court,where the embers of the fire were still gleaming in the ashes, likethe eyes of a wild beast through a thicket. Approaching the door ofthe hall, he paused and listened, not knowing what might have occurredsince the wandering musician had quitted the place. But all wassilent; and, bending down his head a little, he looked forward intothe interior of the hall through one of the rifts which had been madeviolently in the door at the former siege. The party were nearly inthe same position as when the piper had left them, the Arab crouchingupon the ground near the fire, which he seemed lately to have suppliedwith wood, and his dark face resting on his darker hand. Chartley wasseated on the footstool, with his feet stretched towards the fire, andhis left side leaning against the arm of the chair. In the chair wasIola as before, but her eyes were closed. Her hand rested uponChartley's arm; and her head drooped upon his shoulder, while herbalmy breath fanned his cheek, as she slept, tired out by emotions andfatigues.