The Fortunes of Nigel by Walter Scott (bookreader .txt) 📖

the Prince, observing the horror with which she regarded him, walked up, and said to her, with much dignity,—“Madam, ere you put yourself under the authority of this man, let me inform you, he hath in the fullest degree vindicated your honour, so far as concerns your former intercourse. It is for you to consider whether you will put your fortune and happiness into the hands of one, who has shown himself unworthy of all trust.”

The lady, with much difficulty, found words to make reply. “I owe to his Majesty's goodness,” she said, “the care of providing me some reservation out of my own fortune, for my decent sustenance. The rest cannot be better disposed than in buying back the fair fame of which I am deprived, and the liberty of ending my life in peace and seclusion.”

“The contract has been drawn up,” said the king, “under our own eye, specially discharging the potestas maritalis, and agreeing they shall live separate. So buckle them, my Lord Bishop, as fast as you can, that they may sunder again the sooner.”

The Bishop accordingly opened his book and commenced the marriage ceremony, under circumstances so novel and so inauspicious. The responses of the bride were only expressed by inclinations of the head and body; while those of the bridegroom were spoken boldly and distinctly, with a tone resembling levity, if not scorn. When it was concluded, Lord Dalgarno advanced as if to salute the bride, but seeing that she drew back in fear and abhorrence, he contented himself with making her a low bow. He then drew up his form to its height, and stretched himself as if examining the power of his limbs, but elegantly, and without any forcible change of attitude. “I could caper yet,” he said “though I am in fetters—but they are of gold, and lightly worn.—Well, I see all eyes look cold on me, and it is time I should withdraw. The sun shines elsewhere than in England! But first I must ask how this fair Lady Dalgarno is to be bestowed. Methinks it is but decent I should know. Is she to be sent to the harem of my Lord Duke? Or is this worthy citizen, as before—”

“Hold thy base ribald tongue!” said his father, Lord Huntinglen, who had kept in the background during the ceremony, and now stepping suddenly forward, caught the lady by the arm, and confronted her unworthy husband.—“The Lady Dalgarno,” he continued, “shall remain as a widow in my house. A widow I esteem her, as much as if the grave had closed over her dishonoured husband.”

Lord Dalgarno exhibited momentary symptoms of extreme confusion, and said, in a submissive tone, “If you, my lord, can wish me dead, I cannot, though your heir, return the compliment. Few of the first-born of Israel,” he added, recovering himself from the single touch of emotion he had displayed, “can say so much with truth. But I will convince you ere I go, that I am a true descendant of a house famed for its memory of injuries.”

“I marvel your Majesty will listen to him longer,” said Prince Charles. “Methinks we have heard enough of his daring insolence.”

But James, who took the interest of a true gossip in such a scene as was now passing, could not bear to cut the controversy short, but imposed silence on his son, with “Whisht, Baby Charles—there is a good bairn, whisht!—I want to hear what the frontless loon can say.”

“Only, sir,” said Dalgarno, “that but for one single line in this schedule, all else that it contains could not have bribed me to take that woman's hand into mine.”

“That line maun have been the SUMMA TOTALIS,” said the king.

“Not so, sire,” replied Dalgarno. “The sum total might indeed have been an object for consideration even to a Scottish king, at no very distant period; but it would have had little charms for me, save that I see here an entry which gives me the power of vengeance over the family of Glenvarloch; and learn from it that yonder pale bride, when she put the wedding-torch into my hand, gave me the power of burning her mother's house to ashes!”

“How is that?” said the king. “What is he speaking about, Jingling Geordie?”

“This friendly citizen, my liege,” said Lord Dalgarno, “hath expended a sum belonging to my lady, and now, I thank heaven, to me, in acquiring a certain mortgage, or wanset, over the estate of Glenvarloch, which, if it be not redeemed before to-morrow at noon, will put me in possession of the fair demesnes of those who once called themselves our house's rivals.”

“Can this be true?” said the king.

“It is even but too true, please your Majesty,” answered the citizen. “The Lady Hermione having advanced the money for the original creditor, I was obliged, in honour and honesty, to take the rights to her; and doubtless, they pass to her husband.”

“But the warrant, man,” said the king—“the warrant on our Exchequer—Couldna that supply the lad wi' the means of redemption?”

“Unhappily, my liege, he has lost it, or disposed of it—It is not to be found. He is the most unlucky youth!”

“This is a proper spot of work!” said the king, beginning to amble about and play with the points of his doublet and hose, in expression of dismay. “We cannot aid him without paying our debts twice over, and we have, in the present state of our Exchequer, scarce the means of paying them once.”

“You have told me news,” said Lord Dalgarno, “but I will take no advantage.”

“Do not,” said his father, “be a bold villain, since thou must be one, and seek revenge with arms, and not with the usurer's weapons.”

“Pardon me, my lord,” said Lord Dalgarno. “Pen and ink are now my surest means of vengeance; and more land is won by the lawyer with the ram-skin, than by the Andrea Ferrara with his sheepshead handle. But, as I said before, I will take no advantages. I will await in town to-morrow, near Covent Garden; if any one will pay the redemption-money to my scrivener, with whom the deeds lie, the better for Lord Glenvarloch; if not, I will go forward on the next day, and travel with all dispatch to the north, to take possession.”

“Take a father's malison with you, unhappy wretch!” said Lord Huntinglen.

“And a king's, who is pater patriae,” said James.

“I trust to bear both lightly,” said Lord Dalgarno; and bowing around him, he withdrew; while all present, oppressed, and, as it were, overawed, by his determined effrontery, found they could draw breath more freely, when he at length relieved them of his society. Lord Huntinglen, applying himself to comfort his new daughter-in-law, withdrew with her also; and the king, with his privy-council, whom he had not dismissed, again returned to his council-chamber, though the hour was unusually late. Heriot's attendance was still commanded, but for what reason was not explained to him.