What sound--it is not human woe wails moaning through the hall.

Close by the form mankind desert one thing a vigil keeps; More near and near to that still heart it wistful, wondering, creeps.

It gazes on those glazed eyes, it hearkens for a breath; It does not know that kindness dies, and love departs from death.

It fawns as fondly as before upon that icy hand, And hears from lips that speak no more the voice that can command.

To that poor fool, alone on earth, no matter what had been The pomp, the fall, the guilt, the worth, the dead was still a Queen.

With eyes that horror could not scare, it watched the senseless clay, Crouched on the breast of death, and there moaned its fond life away.

And when the bolts discordant clashed, and human steps drew nigh, The human pity shrank abashed before that faithful eye; It seemed to gaze with such rebuke on those who could forsake, Then turned to watch once more the look, and strive the sleep to wake.

They raised the pall, they touched the dead: a cry, and both were stilled, Alike the soul that hate had sped, the life that love had killed.

Semir'amis of England,[1] hail! thy crime secures thy sway; But when thine eyes shall scan the tale those hireling scribes convey, When thou shalt read, with late remorse, how one poor slave was found Beside thy butchered rival's corse, the headless and discrowned, Shall not thy soul foretell thine own unloved, expiring hour, When those who kneel around the throne shall fly the falling tower?-- When thy great heart shall silent break; when thy sad eyes shall strain Through vacant s.p.a.ce, one thing to seek, one thing that loved--in vain?

Though round thy parting pangs of pride shall priest and n.o.ble crowd, More worth the grief that mourned beside thy victim's gory shroud!

[1] Elizabeth.

Master Lewis continued the general subject of the meeting.

"What, Frank, has been the most interesting object you have seen?"

"The Cannongate. I read its history in the guide-book, and I spent an hour in the place. One could seem in fancy to live there hundreds of years."

"King James rode through this street on his way to Flodden," said Master Lewis. "Montrose was dragged here upon a hurdle. It was in a church here that Jenny Geddes bespoke the sentiment of the people by hurling her stool at the head of the Dean, who attempted to enforce the Episcopal service.

"'I will read the Collect,' said the Dean.

"'Colic, said ye? The De'il colic the wame of ye!'

"Here came John Knox, after his interview with Queen Mary, cold and grim, and unmoved by her tears. Here rode the Pretender. Here dwelt the great Dukes of Scotland and the Earls of Moray and Mar."

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE DEATH-BED OF FRANCIS II.]

"I wished I were a poet, a painter, or an historian, when I was there," said Frank. "It is said Sir Walter Scott used to ride there slowly, and that almost every gable recalled to him some scene of triumph or of bloodshed."

"I cannot begin to tell you stories of Cannongate," said Master Lewis.

"Such stories would fill volumes, and give a view of the whole of Scottish history. What, Ernest, has impressed you most?"

"The view of Edinburgh at night is the most beautiful sight I have seen. But the charm that Scott's poetry has given to Melrose Abbey, haunts me still, notwithstanding my disappointment at the ruin. This was the tomb of the Douglases and of the heart of Bruce."

"I will tell you a story of one of the Douglases, whose castle still stands, not far from Melrose," said Master Lewis; "a story which I think is one of the most pleasing of the Border Wars. I will call the story

THE BLACK DOUGLAS.

"King Edward I. of England nearly conquered Scotland. They did not have photographs in those days, but had expressive and descriptive names for people of rank, which answered just as well. So Edward was known as 'Longshanks.' It was from no lack of spirit or energy that he did not quite complete the stubborn work; but he died a little too soon. On his death-bed he called his pretty, spiritless son to him, and made him promise to carry on the war; he then ordered that his body should be boiled in a caldron, and that his bones should be wrapped up in a bull's hide, and carried at the head of the army in future campaigns against the Scots. After these and some other queer requests, death relieved him of the hard politics of this world, and so he went away. Then his son, Edward II., tucked away the belligerent old King's bones among the bones of other old kings in Westminster Abbey, and spent his time in dissipation among his favorites, and allowed the resolute Scots to recover Scotland.

"Good James, Lord Douglas, was a very wise man in his day. He may not have had long shanks, but he had a very long head, as you shall presently see. He was one of the hardest foes with whom the two Edwards had to contend, and his long head proved quite too powerful for the second Edward, who, in his single campaign against the Scots, lost at Bannockburn nearly all that his father had gained.

"The tall Scottish Castle of Roxburgh stood near the border, lifting its grim turrets above the Teviot and the Tweed. When the Black Douglas, as Lord James was called, had recovered castle after castle from the English, he desired to gain this stronghold, and determined to accomplish his wish.

"But he knew it could be taken only by surprise, and a very wily ruse it must be. He had outwitted the English so many times that they were sharply on the lookout for him.

"How could it be done?

"Near the castle was a gloomy old forest, called Jedburgh. Here, just as the first days of spring began to kindle in the sunrise and sunsets, and warm the frosty hills, Black Douglas concealed sixty picked men.

"It was Shrove-tide, and Fasten's Eve, immediately before the great Church festival of Lent, was to be celebrated with a great gush of music and blaze of light and free offerings of wine in the great hall of the castle. The garrison was to have leave for merry-making and indulging in drunken wa.s.sail.

"The sun had gone down in the red sky, and the long, deep shadow began to fall on Jedburgh woods, the river, the hills, and valleys.

"An officer's wife had retired from the great hall, where all was preparation for the merry-making, to the high battlements of the castle, in order to quiet her little child and put it to rest. The sentinel, from time to time, paced near her. She began to sing,--

"'Hush ye, Hush ye, Little pet ye!

Hush ye, Hush ye, Do not fret ye; The Black Douglas Shall not get ye!'

[Ill.u.s.tration: MARY STUART SWEARING SHE HAD NEVER SOUGHT THE LIFE OF ELIZABETH.]

"She saw some strange objects moving across the level ground in the distance. They greatly puzzled her. They did not travel quite like animals, but they seemed to have four legs.

"'What are those queer-looking things yonder?' she asked of the sentinel as he drew near.

"'They are Farmer Asher's cattle,' said the soldier, straining his eyes to discern the outlines of the long figures in the shadows. 'The good man is making merry to-night, and has forgotten to bring in his oxen; lucky 't will be if they do not fall a prey to the Black Douglas.'

"So sure was he that the objects were cattle that he ceased to watch them longer.

"The woman's eye, however, followed the queer-looking cattle for some time, until they seemed to disappear under the outer works of the castle. Then, feeling quite at ease, she thought she would sing again.

Spring was in the evening air; it may have made her feel like singing.

"Now the name of the Black Douglas had become so terrible to the English that it proved a bugbear to the children, who, when they misbehaved, were told that the Black Douglas would get them. The little ditty I have quoted must have been very quieting to good children in those alarming times.

"So the good woman sang cheerily,--

"'Hush ye, Hush ye, Little pet ye!

Hush ye, Hush ye, Do not fret ye; The Black Douglas Shall not get ye!'

"'DO NOT BE SO SURE OF THAT!' said a husky voice close beside her, and a mail-gloved hand fell solidly upon her shoulder. She was dreadfully frightened, for she knew from the appearance of the man he must be the Black Douglas.

"The Scots came leaping over the walls. The garrison was merry-making below, and, almost before the disarmed revellers had any warning, the Black Douglas was in the midst of them. The old stronghold was taken, and many of the garrison were put to the sword; but the Black Douglas spared the woman and the child, who probably never afterward felt quite so sure about the little ditty,--

"'Hush ye, Hush ye, Do not fret ye; The Black Douglas Shall not get ye!'

It is never well to be too sure, you know.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE BLACK DOUGLAS SURPRISING AN ENEMY.]

"Douglas had caused his picked men to approach the castle by walking on their hands and knees, with long black cloaks thrown over their bodies, and their ladders and weapons concealed under their cloaks.

The men thus presented very nearly the appearance of a herd of cattle in the deep shadows, and completely deceived the sentinel, who was probably thinking more of the music and dancing below than of the watchful enemy who had been haunting the gloomy woods of Jedburgh.

"The Black Douglas, or 'Good James, Lord Douglas,' as he was called by the Scots, fought, as I have already said, with King Robert Bruce at Bannockburn. One lovely June day, in the far-gone year of 1329, King Robert lay dying. He called Douglas to his bedside, and told him that it had been one of the dearest wishes of his heart to go to the Holy Land and recover Jerusalem from the Infidels; but since he could not go, he wished him to embalm his heart after his death, and carry it to the Holy City and deposit it in the Holy Sepulchre.

"Douglas had the heart of Bruce embalmed and inclosed in a silver case, and wore it on a silver chain about his neck. He set out for Jerusalem, but resolved first to visit Spain and engage in the war waged against the Moorish King of Grenada. He fell in Andalusia, in battle. Just before his death, he threw the silver casket into the thickest of the fight, exclaiming, 'Heart of Bruce! I follow thee or die!'