The Provost-Marshal: a romance of the middle shires

Chapter I

The sun shone fiercely upon the old town of Kinross. It was but ten hours of the morning, yet so great was the heat that men in the busiest cities, such as Edin burgh, St Andrews, Glasgow, Perth, or even Aberdeen, gladly sought the shade. Kinross — God knows, Kin ross never was a busy place — lay scorching beneath the hot rays, fast asleep. Why should it not sleep ? What else had the citizens to do ? It was thirty years and more since the Queen of Scotland stole away in the night from the castle on the island yonder in Lochleven. The keys she dropped in her flight still lay in the mud at the bottom of the loch, and were yet to remain there for some centuries ; A ■2 THE PROVOST-MARSHAL. but Kinross recked little of the keys, or the Queen who threw them away. Why should it ? Its time was not yet come, and it is still coming.

Three hundred years have not done much to alter the place. In the seventeenth century Sir William Bruce built a magnificent mansion for the Duke of York on the promontory which juts into the loch hard by the town. The site of the old building of the Douglases was nearer to the point of the promontory, where the churchyard now is. But the building of Sir William Bruce, although it belongs to the lord lieutenant of the county, has been long unoccupied. On the higher ground to the north a few houses have straggled some way towards Milnathort; while to the south the drainage effected sixty years ago has drawn the waters of Lochleven from the immediate vicinity of the town. Otherwise the place is much in the same condition as it was in the time of James the Sixth. There is a triangular space in the main street where in 1599, as at this day, a few loafers might always be seen propping themselves up against the corners of the white plastered houses.

On this supernaturally hot morning there were two or three whom the sun could not drive from their daily habit. They had spent the greater part of their lives with their backs against the white walls, and there was nothing to en courage them to do anything else. If men fished for sport in those days, it was not to Lochleven that they took their tackle ; for down to the time when the loch was lowered by drainage the fish found such excellent feeding on the shores that they treated the wiles of man with scorn. The char, " reid-fische," and other denizens of the loch enumerated by Sibbald, were taken by the net, but not for commerce ; nor did anglers come from distant places to toil all day in the waters of Lochleven, and return to their homes in the evening. Travellers indeed from the Queensferry to Perth would sometimes break their journey at Kinross and furnish employment for a few horseboys ; but the place had no other excuse for existence, except the needs of Douglas of Lochleven and other owners of the land in the neighbourhood.

The heat had no terrors for the loafers, although popular superstition sometimes connected the plague of pestilence with the rays of the sun. They almost dozed in the glare, like flies plastered against the wall, and took small notice of a horseman who rode up the street at a foot's pace. They scarce looked to see that he took a turning to the left, and made for the open country to the west. They knew him and his business ; he was always with them, and of a truth, although he studied to make his dress as plain and free from distinction as he could, no man who knew Scotland at that time would have mistaken him for anything but what he was. A strong, thick-set fellow was this horseman, with the resolute features common to his countrymen, a long nose, and a russet beard which sometimes put him to inconvenience in the pursuit of his calling.

But, al though his features were rough, the general expression of his face was sardonic ; it could scarcely have been otherwise, for he was always concerned with the slip pery side of humanity. His pockets appeared to be stuffed with papers, and for weapon he carried a stout cudgel : if he had more deadly tools about him, he took care to conceal them. The steed which bore this person into the country was a sorry beast, but it was good enough for Francis Steedman's business. From time to time it permitted itself to be forced to an ambling trot, but it speedily relapsed into a walk ; and the master eventually ac quiesced in the beast's views, for he found the saddle very hot in such weather. Ere long they entered a wide valley or strath, lying between low hills, which narrowed as they ascended it.

The patches of cultivation became less frequent, and the way led through pine-woods and expanses of deep heather. The bed or low-lying part of the valley developed into a moss or peat-bog, and after some miles the bounds of civilisation seemed to have been reached, when, on rounding the corner of a thicket of spruce firs, a sight was disclosed which brought a smile to the sardonic face. A few cottages, from which mounted the smoke of the peat-fires, nestled under the brae to the north of the morass. The red-tiled roofs and whitewashed walls peeped out from the pines clustering round them. A small church, perched on a hillock, dominated the cottages, and in a large meadow hard by, which was locally known as the Play field, a tall long-legged figure was darting about with incredible activity among a score or so of boys.

He carried in his hand a short stick to which was attached a strap split into a variety of thongs, an article but too well known to small boys as the tawse. The lads were in full flight, but the fleetest of them could not escape the long legs and long arms of the pursuer. With unerring accur acy and a right good will he brought down the leather upon the flying forms of the boys, not one of whom escaped without reason to remember Mr David Hal kerstone. The clean cuts from a master hand gave out a sound the significance of which there was no mistaking. When the rout was complete, and the victor stood at last to take his breath, he looked up and caught the horseman's eye. The smile was still on the sardonic face, not an agreeable smile, for Francis Steedman was a man as well as a man of business.

In truth it was not pleasant to see this long lean -faced man with the greedy eyes use his strength so unmercifully upon small boys, the eldest of whom could not have been more than twelve years of age. " What have they been about now, Laird ? " said he of the sorry steed. " Deil fly away with your lairds," said the other, mop ping the perspiration from his forehead ; " the young scoundrels ! I'll learn them to What think ye ? they were playing at football yesterday, Sabbath, during divine service with boys of greater age and stature. The schoolmaster bides a mile west of us, and is very backward in chastising the youth. There is nothing, friend Francis, so good for a boy as chas tisement, — King Solomon for that; and praise be to THE PROVOST-MAESHAL. God that my arm has been strengthened to administer it this day.

Ay, Monsieur le Capitaine has done his work well;" and he patted the tawse affectionately, whilst the sanctimonious face positively glowed with delight. "I thought, Mr Davvid, ye were now Laird of Bawhometry." " Tut, tut, man, are ye daft ? Think ye that I will give up the Gospel for a few worthless acres ? Besides there's the stipend — folk might think I would be giving up the stipend, if they called me Laird of Baw hometry ; and it's not in my philosophy to lose a grip of onything that comes into these ten fingers. ' Aye gripping ' — yon's the slughorne of Bawhometry, and it has served me weel enough so far as I have gone. So ye'll please to call me Mr David, and laird me no more lairds. " Weel, Francie," continued the minister, recovering his humour, " I see you're heading for Rantry. A' roads lead to Rantry in these days.

They come from a' points of the compass, but especially from Kinross. Is it the auld business ? " " Ay, the auld business—Mistress Katharine again. The lass would ruin an earldom, and maybe she'll live to do it ; she's bonny enough, and she's wild enough. There's an aecompt for ye, Mr Davvid — there's sinful extravagance for ye, lavished ower the mere vanities of this world — by your ain niece, and in the neigh bouring parish, though ye preach here every Sabbath and scourge the boys on Monday." And he drew a bundle of papers from his pouch which he opened for the minister's inspection. One of these papers contained a long account of articles supplied by John Sim, tailor burgess of Edin burgh, to Katharine Maxwell, daughter of Sir William Maxwell of Rantriknowes. The items with their charges neatly written against them fairly took away the minister's breath.

Entries respecting "westicot boddices," doublet sleeves, pasments, satin, buckram, damask, perling, danced before his eyes. In his wildest dreams he had never imagined such ex travagance to be possible. " ' Twa pair of blak French silk shanks,' " he read out with a groan. " ' To be her ane gown, 15 ells of camlet; to be her ane waistband, 8 ells of spraingit silk; to be sleeves to the doublet, five quarters of saittin.' "Great God of Israel! Five quarters of saittin — eight ells of spraingit silk! May the judgment of Jezabel fall upon her ! This must all be met by the Laird from the rents of Rantriknowes. How long will he last, think ye ? " " Hout, man, he'll see ye out. The estate will last his time, but I wudna answer for them that come after him." This was said with a spice of mischief, aud Mr David winced visibly under it.

"Ye'll read a deal," continued Francis, "about the Lords of Council and Session in these papers, and about the Laird being denounced rebel. Lord bless you, it's all play. And if it werena, for every merk ye screw out of him, he gets twa fra the minister of Rantry." " He's a careless body, Mr Laurence Barclay." " He doesna get that character in Kinross or Dun fermline. He is very strict in matters of business, but open-handed and gentle with the poor." "Well, he's not a poor man, and he didn't marry the Laird's sister, and he'll ruin the Laird if he goes on as he's doing." " Na ; he didna marry the Laird's sister, but, if he takes rent from the Laird, it is for the siller he ad vanced. There's some difference betwixt him and you, Mr Halkerstone ; for ye did marry the Laird's sister, and a good bargain ye make of it.

Ye take mair in annual-rent from the Laird than Mr Laurence Barclay, but ye never advanced ony siller for it that I ever heard of. Ye ken, sir, what folk say about yon annual-rent of yours ? " " I know it was said that I gave Laird John a discharge in full in return for the payment of a capital sum. If I did, where is the discharge ? why is the bond not cancelled ? " "Ye ought to ken, sir. Laird John went away on the sudden and isna here to speak. But can I do ony business for ye at Rantry ? " " No," said the minister, doubtfully ; " it has not come to that yet. I've maybe a letter or suchlike for him ; but the auld fox wouldna take a letter from you. Ye'll be seeking a witness ? " " Ay ; I looked to find one here, and indeed, minister, I thought ye might have saddled your mare and come with me yourself."

" Man, I would sooner be your witness to the Devil. His brother was a bad man, who gave me much trouble about the payment of my wife's annual-rent ; but this man is a wild beast. Nevertheless, friend Francis, I will comb his bristles. But what manner of thing is this ? " A lad some seventeen years of age was coming up the track or bridle-path — for the road was little better than that — travelling on foot at a steady pace, as one goes who has a purpose and means to overtake it. His doublet was too short for him (he had doubtless outgrown it), and was nearly up to the slot of his breast ; his shoes were sadly worn, and the dust upon them told that he had come a considerable distance. At first sight his appearance was not engaging, and the mere fact that he was travelling upon foot seemed to indicate that he did not belong to the gentle classes.

But there were some odd things about this young tramp. He was well set up for his age, his features were good, and his face, which was very fair, was burnt pink by exposure to the sun. But what caught the minister's attention was a two handed sword which the boy carried slung over his shoulder. Mr David at first eyed the wayfarer with the scowl which ill-conditioned persons generally bestow upon strangers ; but after looking at his face, he seemed to be surprised and a curious expression of intelligence came into his avaricious eyes. " Francie," said he, " I've got your witness for you. Wait here a moment." Then, hastening after the lad, he cried — "Young gentleman, you will excuse an old man for staying your journey for a few moments." This he said with so much affability that it was scarce possible to believe that he was the man who had been conversing with Francis Steedman.

But the change would not have commended him to those who saw that it was not due to good-nature, but to some pur pose in the man's mind. " What is it, sir ? " said the other, shortly, speaking with an accent which, if not slightly foreign, was at least not gathered in Fife or Kinross. " As no one travels this road who is not bound for Rantriknowes, you will not think me impertinent for assuming that you are going thither. You can do me a service by carrying with you a letter I have here for the Laird. There is one yonder who would be glad to have your company. He is well known to the Laird, and hath business with him ; but my letter is of a character which makes me unwilling to intrust it to a person of his class. If you have the patience to wait, I will add one or two words by way of post seriptum."

Taking the lad's consent for granted, Mr David drew out his pen, and proceeding to write, said in an absent manner — " Did ye notice, as ye came by, the great Standing Stone foranent the Mills of Forth ? " " I care not to carry your letter, sir, unless I know by whom it is written," answered the lad, wholly ignoring the question addressed to him. Upon this the minister was somewhat disconcerted. He had looked for the careless good-nature of youth, and doubted not that he could question the boy at his pleasure. His query as to the Standing Stone was meant to draw an answer which would show whether the lad came by Milnathort or from the south. To his surprise he found that he had to do with one who had either read his mind with unusual ease, or had lost his temper and manners in the course of his tramp.

" Tell the Laird," said he, " that the letter is from one who hath a deep concern in the welfare of his soul. I am a servant of the Kirk " "I do now perceive that you have something of the priest about you. I took you for a lawyer." This was a strange saying, but it came so naturally that the minister could scarce tell whether there was any malice behind it. His cunning eyes and long snivelling nose belonged rather to a vicious type of writer than to a niinister of the Word of God. And indeed he was well known to legal gentlemen in Edinburgh, who declared with good reason that he knew more law than divinity, and that those who dealt with him had need of their best wits. He had made the most of his chances. He married a sister of the Laird of Rantriknowes, and extorted from the Laird himself a handsome competence ; he enjoyed a fair stipend, and bettered his position by a pettifogging acquaintance with legal proceedings ; and now he had inherited the small estate of Bawhometry.

A fairly prosperous man was Mr David Halkerstone, greatly in consequence of his own efforts. There are many David Halkerstones in the world, and they generally prosper. " Priest ! " said the minister, lowering his voice. " Young man, you will find it best not even to speak of priests in this country, unless you are as weU ap proven in life and doctrine as " " As Mr David Halkerstone." " What ! Know you my name ? How came you by that ? " "I knew you by description. Mr David Halker stone's name is fondly cherished in the country I come from." " And what country may that be ? " " I pray you not to be over-curious : where I come from is my own concern." (" We shall see about that," muttered the other to himself.) " But, now that I am acquainted with your name, I shall be glad to deliver your letter, if you will hand it over."

"Pray accept my thanks in advance, but I would beg one other favour from you. The Laird is a man quick to anger; and, if he should betray any impa tience in reading my letter, I would ask you to desire him to be particular in reading the postscriptum." So Francis Steedman on horseback, and the young lad with Mr Halkerstone's letter in his pocket upon his foot, went on their way up the valley. And the minister, with an ill - omened grin on his features, chuckled to himself. " I have given him a good introduction," said he ; "he will not forget it in a hurry — insolent young cub ! " As the wayfarers continued to ascend the valley, the low hills on each side began to approach each other, and the boggy ground between them to contract. Their road, which was a steady continuous incline, though not steep, for a time skirted the northern edge of the bogs, but after they had traversed two or three miles it began to breast the flank of the hills.

By the way they had much friendly converse, for Francis, though a shrewd man, was a great gossip; and the lad was given to understand that he had spent most of his time of late years in endeavouring to serve the Laird, and that this journey in particular was undertaken by him at great personal inconven ience, and solely for the purpose of giving pleasure to the Laird. But, when they entered the woods about the Castle of Rantriknowes, he thought it strange that Francis, the old devoted servant of the Laird, should dismount and tether his horse in a thicket. And when they proceeded, both now on foot, he began to grow uneasy, for it was impossible not to notice the watchful, not to say furtive, manner of approach adopted by this friend of the family. But then the Laird was a very hasty man.

Chapter II

The Castle of Rantriknowes, or, as it was popularly styled, Rantry, stood on the north side of the valley, being built on the edge of the declivity which descends to the morass in the low ground. And so close had the builder pushed it to the verge of the incline, that it was scarce possible to obtain a foothold on the soH below the southern walls. Those who are curious to trace it at this day will find it, or what remains of it, where it stood three centuries ago, but remote from the tracks and highways of men. It was without battlements on the roof, but it had tall covered tur rets at the corners and a crow-stepped gable between them. The position was singularly happy. Standing high above the morass, and projecting somewhat from the line of the hills on which it was built, it commanded an extensive view towards the east.

From the main B door the islands on Lochleven might be counted, and the sheep might be seen on the gentle Lomonds when ever the sun shone on a summer evening. To the back and northward of the castle the hills rose gradually to the height of 2000 feet. Countless ravines, covered with rocks, heather, and bracken, intersected them ; and by the burns which trickled through them there were many spots of exquisite beauty. The lower eminences, on one of which the castle was built, were for the most part clothed with woods of fir, with here and there an oak or an ash, and sometimes clumps of silver birches. But in shel tered spots might be found occasional patches of cultivation, and adjoining them a few low-roofed cottages. And of course there was the village of Rantry, by the burn of the same name, which was inhabited by feuars ; and their superior was Sir William Maxwell, the Laird of Rantriknowes.

The name of Maxwell was not indigenous to the country, but it had been connected with Rantriknowes for many generations, and those who bore it had long ceased to be considered intruders in the neighbourhood. Nevertheless it was quite certain that they were a branch of the powerful house of the same name on the West Marches, and from time to time this descent was recognised in a practical manner. Of late the Maxwells of Rantry had not prospered — at this distance of time it is difficult to say why ; but there are documents in the Rantry charter-chest which suggest that they incurred the suspicion of being too friendly to the Pope. The family papers, however, leave no doubt that an unusual number of fines and exactions were laid upon them ; that in numerable proceedings were taken against them in which they invariably came by the worst; and that the Lairds of Rantry were generally at their wits' end for money to pay their way.

They borrowed from the ministers and schoolmasters, they borrowed from their tenants, they borrowed from tradesmen in Kin ross, Dunfermline, and Cupar; and the number of their heritable bonds knocking about was so large that nothing but a wiping out of all obligations seemed likely to save them from ultimate destruction. John Maxwell, the last Laird, had been singularly unfortunate. He was good-natured enough, at the request of his kinsman Lord Maxwell, to be caution for Peter Maxwell of the Bowhouse, who was in dis grace for his part in the Earl of Bothwell's raid upon Holy rood House in 1591. Peter's grave offence was that he had seen his Highness flying down a back stair with his breeks in his hand. In the following year, 1592, John Maxwell himself was thought to have taken part in my Lord Bothwell's midnight foray upon the Palace of Falkland, when all the horses in the How of Fife were carried off by the Border riders.

The night was dark, and the Laird of Rantry was not seen by anybody, but on the following morning sundry bullocks and a sow were espied, in the bog below Rantriknowes, which were known to have had their place of residence up to that time at Strathmiglo. John Maxwell was thereupon charged with treason able practices against his Majesty's person and estate, and he kept out of the way, no doubt for sufficient reasons. Then other misdeeds — such as trysts and conventions with Francis, some time Earl of Bothwell, and Mr John Colvill of Strarudie — were cast up against him; and it seems that he did not spare to resort sometimes within the prohibited distance of his Majesty's residence. Finally, having long remained at the horn unrelaxed, he was duly forfeited, and his inheritance was given to his brother William, who was indeed very glad to get it.

This, John Max well always said, was the purpose of his persecution. The King, or the Court, owed something to William Maxwell, and the only way in which they could pay him was to give him his brother's property. The elder brother did not long survive the loss of his estate, for having gone abroad, he died in France after the lapse of a few years. Sir William for a brief season enjoyed the smiles of the Court, and finding his Prince one day in an unusually good humour, succeeded in obtaining the honour of knighthood. Those who knew best what the King's necessities were did not scruple to state openly by what manner of service Sir William won this distinction. And there seemed to be some ground for what was said, for Sir William's favour failed with his money, and he retired to the drinking of strong ale and the swearing of stronger oaths on his heavily burdened estate.

He had been for many years a widower, and his two daughters — Katharine and Barbara — completed his family circle at Rantry. The former, at this time about twenty-one years of age, was likely to make or mar him ; for, being a girl of singular beauty and a high spirit, she was at the same time as wild and unmanageable as a hawk. Barbara, who was three years younger, was Sir William's natural daughter. As we have said, Francis Steedman's manner of approaching the Laird's residence did not commend itself to his witness. Still they made progress. But when they came to the edge of the thicket, about a pair of butts' length from the castle, Francis stopped dead and laid his hand on the boy's arm. Without uttering a word he carefully scanned the place, gazing with curious anxiety at a belfry which overhung the principal doorway.

Then, as if seeing nothing to alarm him, he crossed the lawn with a rapid step, and before the boy could reach him had struck several resounding blows with his bludgeon upon the oaken door. "That's not the way to knock at a gentleman's door," said the lad, as he rejoined his companion. " Six several knocks, as use is," muttered Francis in a formal voice, as if addressing himself ; but he glanced up nervously at the belfry. "Why don't you keep your knocks for the back door, you lout ? " "The most patent door or inner gate of the said Sir William Maxwell," said the formal voice, whilst its owner, after glancing again at the belfry, drew a paper from his pocket and stuffed it into the lock. "You ill-mannered boor, what manner of missive is this that ye should present it at the residence of a knight in so unseemly a fashion ?

Out with it." " Ane just copy of the same — because I could not apprehend him personally." The words were scarce out of his mouth than it was closed with his own just copy " subscrived with my own hand " ; for the boy having snatched it from the lock and seen at a glance what it was, crumpled it into a ball and endeavoured to force it down the messenger's throat. Now Francis was a stout man and little disposed to eat his own handwriting. So in no great space of time the two were engaged upon each other to some purpose with their staves. It is just possible that, if they had been left to themselves, a stroke might have fallen upon a skull and flattened one of the com batants to the earth. But so interested did they become in each other that, without any suspicion upon their part of what was coming, a deluge of most foul liquid descended upon and drenched both of them to the skin.

For reasons best known to himself the architect of the castle had made the belfry project from the roof so as to overhang the doorstep. In the floor of the belfry was a round opening about nine inches in diameter, through which the rain-water was supposed to escape ; though why the rain-water should escape on to the heads of such persons as happened to knock at the front door is a question which it is not easy to answer — and the architect has been for some centuries beyond the reach of all questions. Francis Steedman had long before learned by ex perience that other matters besides rain-water were apt to escape from the belfry, especially when he had occasion to visit Rantry. He had borne his experience fully in view on the present occasion, but the unex pected scuffle with his witness had made him forget it for the moment.