Both Sides the Border: A Tale of Hotspur and Glendower

The knight looked at him in surprise.

"Hotspur has chosen a strange messenger," he muttered to himself, as he took the missive Oswald held out to him, cut the silk that bound it with a dagger, and read its contents. As he laid it down, he rose to his feet.

"Excuse my want of courtesy," he said. "Lord Percy tells me that you are one of his esquires–no slight recommendation–and that you are intrusted with somewhat important a mission, on his part, to Dunbar, a still higher recommendation–for assuredly he would not have selected you for such a purpose, had you not stood high in his regard. But, indeed, at first I took you for what you seemed, as the bearer of a complaint from some abbot; for in truth, such complaints are not uncommon, for whenever a bullock is lost, they put it down to my men.

"Where are your horses that Percy speaks of? You will, I hope, take up your abode here, as long as you stay in the town."

"Thank you, Sir Philip; but I shall go forward in the morning. I have already put up at the Golden Rose. It would attract attention, were I to come here, and it were best that I remain as I am; and indeed, I have brought no clothes with me, save those I stand in."

"Well, perhaps, as you do not wish to attract attention, it were best so; and I pray you inform Lord Percy of the reason why you declined my entertainment."

"I shall be glad, Sir Philip, if you will send down a couple of your men to fetch the horses up to your stables; as I shall start, as soon as the gates are open, tomorrow morning."

"I will do so, at once."

And the governor rang a handbell on the table.

"Send two of the men up here," he said, as an attendant entered.

A minute later a door opened, and two soldiers came in, and saluted. One of them, to Oswald's amusement, was the man with whom he had exchanged words, below.

"You will accompany this gentleman to the Golden Rose, and bring back two horses, which he will hand over to you, and place them in the stables with mine.

"Are you sure, Master Forster, that there is nothing more that I can do for you?"

"Nothing, whatever, I thank you, sir; and I am greatly obliged by your courtesy, and with your permission I will take my leave. I hope to return here in the course of a week, or ten days."

So saying, Oswald shook hands with the governor and went downstairs, followed by the soldiers, who had not yet recovered from their surprise at seeing Oswald seated, and evidently on familiar terms with their lord. Oswald said nothing to them, until he arrived at the Golden Rose. Then he led the way to the stables, and handed the horses over to them.

"I suppose that that pulling of the ear will be deferred, for a time?" he said, with a smile, to the soldier who had made the remark.

The man sheepishly took hold of the bridle.

"I could not tell, sir–" he began.

"Of course you could not," Oswald interrupted. "Still, it may be a lesson, to you, that it is just as well not to make fun of people, until you are quite sure who they are. There, I bear no malice; get yourselves a stoup of wine, in payment for your services."

"I thought that there was something out of the way about him," the other man said, as they walked up the street with the two horses; "or he would never have turned upon you, as he did. It is evident that he is someone of consequence, and is here on some secret business or other, with Sir Philip. It is well that he did not bear malice, for you would have got it hot, from the governor, had he reported what you said to him."

Chapter 6: At Dunbar

The journey passed without any incident of importance, but Oswald had reason to congratulate himself on having taken the monk with him. On one occasion, as they were passing over a wild heath, a party of eight or ten men, on rough ponies, rode up. They were armed with spears and swords. They reined up with exclamations of disappointment as Roger, who had rolled up his robe round his waist, for convenience of walking, let it fall round him.

"You have played us a scurvy trick, monk," the leader said, angrily. "Who was to guess it was a monk, who was thus striding along?"

"You would find it difficult to walk, yourself, with this robe dangling about your heels," Roger said.

"Whither are you bound, and whence are you going?"

"We are travelling to Dunbar, being sent to the convent of Saint Magnus there, and come from Roxburgh."

"'Tis a shame that so stalwart a fellow as you are should be leading a drone's life, in a convent; when every true Scotsman is sharpening his spear, in readiness for what may come when the truce with England expires."

"I am glad to hear that you are so well employed," Roger replied; "but methinks that, in days like these, it is sometimes useful to have a few men of thews and sinews, even in a religious house; for there are those who sometimes fail in the respect they owe to the Church."

"That is true enough," the men laughed. "Well, go thy way. There is naught to be gained from a travelling monk."

"Naught, good friend, save occasionally hard blows, when the monk happens to be of my strength and stature, and carries a staff like this."

"'Tis a goodly weapon, in sooth, and you look as if you knew how to wield it."

"Even a monk may know that, seeing that a staff is not a carnal weapon."

And rolling up his sleeves, Roger took the staff in the middle with both hands, in the manner of a quarterstaff, and made it play round his head; with a speed, and vigour, that showed that he was a complete master of the exercise.

"Enough, enough!" the man said, while exclamations of admiration broke from the others. "Truly from such a champion, strong enough to wield a weapon that resembles a weaver's beam, rather than a quarterstaff, there would be more hard knocks than silver to be gained; but it is all the more pity that such skill and strength should be thrown away, in a convent. Perhaps it is as well that you are wearing a monk's gown, for methinks that, eight to one as we are, some of us might have got broken heads, before we gained the few pence in your pocket.

"Come on, men. Better luck next time. It is clear that this man is not the one we are charged to capture."

And, with his followers, he rode off across the moor.

"I do not think that they are what they seem," Oswald said, as they resumed their journey. "The man's speech was not that of a border raider, and his followers would hardly have sat their horses so silently, and obeyed his orders so promptly, had they been merely thieving caterans; besides, you marked that he said you were not the man they were watching for."

"Whom think you that they are, then, Master Oswald?"

"I think it possible that they may be a party of Douglas's followers, led by a knight. It may be that Douglas has received some hint of March's being in communication with England; and that he has sent a party to seize, and search, any traveller who looked like a messenger from the south. Of course, this may be only fancy. Still, I am right glad that you were wearing your monkish robe; for, had I been alone, I might have been cross-questioned so shrewdly as to my purpose in travelling, that I might have been held on suspicion, and means employed to get the truth out of me."

At the small town where they stopped, next night, they learned that many complaints had been made, by travellers from the south, of how they had been stopped by a party of armed men on the border, closely questioned, and searched, and in some cases robbed. This had been going on for some weeks, and the sheriff of the county had twice collected an armed force, and ridden in search of the robbers, but altogether without success. It was believed that they were strangers to the district, and the description given of them had not agreed with those of any noted bad characters, in the neighbourhood.

"Certainly, Master Oswald," the monk said, "all this seems to support your idea. Money and valuables are soon found; but by what these men say of the way in which the clothes and belongings of these travellers were searched, it would seem to show that money was not the object of the band, but rather the discovery of correspondence, and that money was only taken as a cloak."

"I have no doubt that they were there to intercept someone, Roger, though it may not have been Percy's messengers; still, we are well rid of them, and I hope that we shall meet no more, on our way."

The hope was fulfilled, and they reached Dunbar without further interruption. Here they deemed it better to separate. The monk went to a convent, and gave out there that he was on the way to Edinburgh, being on a journey thither to see his aged father, who was in his last sickness. Oswald went to a shop, and bought clothes suited for the son of a trader in a fair position; and, changing his things at the inn where he had put up, made his way to the castle.

"I would have speech with the earl," he said, to the warder at the gate. "I have his orders to wait upon him."

"What is your name and condition?"

"That matters not. I am here by the earl's orders. He sent me a ring, by which it might be known that I am authorized to have access to him."

On seeing the ring, the warder at once called to one of the servitors, and bade him conduct Oswald to the earl's apartment.

"Whom shall I say?" he asked, when he reached the door.

"Give this ring to him, and say that the bearer awaits admittance to him."

The man entered the room and then, opening the door again, motioned to Oswald to enter. The earl, a tall and powerfully-built man, looked with a keen scrutiny at him.