After high ma.s.s he had retired to his chamber to meditate, when the n.o.bleman in waiting came in, and said, that a stranger wanted to speak with him on some urgent business. He was introduced, and any one may judge of the king's astonishment, when he saw that it was the identical old man who had spoken to him on the mountain, and vanished, the day before. The king's lip grew pale, and quivered as the stranger made his obeisance.

"Thou herald of danger, treason, and confusion, what seekest thou again with me?" said the king.

"I come, my liege," said he, "to seek redress for the injured, and justice on the offenders. Your two favourite hounds came last night to the houses of two widows in Newstead, and have carried off their two children from their bosoms, which they have doubtlessly devoured, as no traces of them can be found."

"Thou art a liar!" said the king, "and an inventor of lies, if not the father of them; for these two dogs were locked up with me in my chamber last night, and a guard placed on the door, so that what you aver is impossible."

"I declare to your majesty," said the stranger, "by the truth of that right hand, that I myself saw the two hounds at liberty this morning at daylight. I saw them come along the Monk's Meadow, carrying something across on their necks."

"It is easy to prove the falsehood of all that thou hast said," replied the king; "and thy malicious intent shall not go unpunished."

He then called in the guards, and bade them declare before that audacious stranger, if his two white hounds, Mooly and Scratch, were not in his chamber all the night. The guards were mute, and looked one to another.

"Why are you ashamed to declare the truth?" said the king to them. "Say, were the two hounds in my chamber all night, or were they not?"

The men answered, "that the hounds were certainly out. How it came they knew not, but that they were let in in the morning."

"There is a conspiracy among you again," said the king; "if not to deprive your king of life, to deprive that life of every kind of quiet and social comfort."

"I demand justice," said the stranger, "in the names of two weeping and distracted mothers! In the name of all that is right, and held dear among men! I demand that these two obnoxious and devouring animals be hung upon a tree, or burnt alive before the sun go down. Then shall the men of Scotland see that their sovereign respects their feelings and privileges, even though they run counter to his own pleasures."

"One of these dogs saved my life last night," said the king; "and it is very hard indeed that I should be compelled to do this. I will have better testimony; and if I find that these children have actually been devoured, (as most unlikely it is,) the depredators shall be punished."

The old man bowed, and was preparing to reply, when the knight in waiting entered hastily, and told the king that there was a woman in the outer court, crying bitterly for justice, and who was very urgent to speak with him. The king ordered that she should be admitted, and in a moment she stood before him, pale, shrivelled, hagard, and wild, and altogether such a figure as one scarcely can see, or could see, without the impression that she was scarce earthly. Her appearance was that of a lady of quality, of great age; she had large ear-rings, a tremendous ruff, a head-dress of a thousand intricate flutings, projecting before and tapering upward behind, cork-heeled shoes, a low hoop, and a waist of length and stiffness, not to be described.

"Revenge! Revenge! my lord, O king!" cried she. "I crave justice of your majesty--justice, and nothing more. You have two hounds, that came into my house early this morning, and have devoured, or taken away my only daughter, my sole stay and hope in this world, and nothing is left but a part of her garments. These dogs have some power deputed to them that is not of thy giving, therefore grant me that I may see vengeance done upon them, and their bodies burnt at a stake before the going down of the sun."

"That is a true and worthy gentlewoman, my liege," said the old stranger; "and you may take her word for whatever she advances."

The ancient dame turned about--stared on the stranger with wild astonishment--dropped a low courtesy, and then said, "I crave you pardon, my lord and master. I noted not that you were so nigh. I hope your errand here coincides with mine."

"It does," said he; "there are more sufferers than one; and, by the head that bows to thee!--I swear by none greater--we shall have justice if it be in the land!"

"This is a combination," said the king; "I pay no regard to it. Bring witnesses to establish your charges, and you shall have justice done."

They went forth to bring their proof, and behold they had them all in the outer court. In the mean time the king sent for some men of the place to come, and made enquiry of them who the old dame was, and what was the character that she bore. They informed him that she was a noted witch, and kept the whole country in terror and turmoil, and that she had indeed an only daughter, who was an impious and malevolent minx, devoted to every species of wickedness.

"The wrinkled beldame shall be burnt at the stake," said the king. "It is proper that the land should be cleansed of these disturbers of its peace; as for that old stranger, I have my own surmises concerning him, and we shall find a way to deal with his subtilty."

He then sent for a reverend old friar of the name of Rubely, who was well versed in all the minutiae of diablery and exorcism, whose skill had often been beneficial to the king in the trying and intricate parts of his duty that related to these matters, and with him he conferred on this important subject. Father Rubely desired the king to defer the further examination of these people for a very little while; and, in the mean time, he brought in a basin of holy water, consecrated seven times, and set apart for sacred uses, after which the examination went on, and a curious one it was. The old witch lady deposed, "That as she was lying pondering on her bed, and wide awake, about the dawn of the morning, she heard a curious and uncommon noise somewhere about the house: That, rising, she went out silently to discover what it could be, and to her utter astonishment, beheld the king's two hounds, Mooly and Scratch, spring from her daughter's cas.e.m.e.nt, and in a short s.p.a.ce a beautiful roe-deer followed them and bounded away to the Eildons: That she hasted to her daughter's apartment, and found that her darling was gone." The stories of the other two were exactly similar to one another, only that the one blamed one hound, and the other the other. It was as follows: "I was lying awake in the morning very early, with my son in my arms, when one of the king's hounds came into my house. I saw it, and wist not how it had got there. A short time after I heard it making a strange sc.r.a.ping and noise in the other end of the house, on which I arose to turn it out; but on going to the place from whence the sound seemed to come, I found nothing. I searched all the house, and called the hound by her name, but still could find nothing; and at last I lighted a candle and sought all the house over again, without being able to discover any traces of her. I went back to return to my bed, wondering greatly what had become of the animal; but having opened the door before to let her make her escape, I conceived that she had stolen off without my having perceived it. At that very instant, however, I beheld her coming softly out of the bed where I had left my child, and in a moment she was out at the door and away. I ran to the bed with the light in my hand, but my dear child was gone, and no part, not even a palm of his hand, remaining!"

_Ques._ "Was there any blood in the bed, or any symptoms of the child having been devoured?"

_A._ "No; I could discover none."

_Q._ "Did the hound appear to have any thing carrying in her mouth, or otherwise, when she escaped from the house?"

_A._ "No; I did not notice that she had any thing."

_Q._ "Was there any thing else in the house at the time; any other appearance that you could not account for?"

_A._ "Yes; there was something like a leveret followed her out at the door, but I paid no regard to it."

_Q._ "Was the child baptized in a Christian church?" (No answer.)

_Q._ "Were you yourself ever baptized in a Christian church?" (No answer.)

_Q._ "Why do you not answer to these things?"

_A._ "Because I see no connection that they have with the matter in question."

"None in the least," said the old stranger, who still kept by their side.

When the king heard that the answers of the two women were so exactly similar, though the one was examined before the other was brought in, he said,--"This is some infernal combination; they are all of them witches, and their friend there is some warlock or wizard; and they shall all be burnt at the stake together before the going down of the sun."

"It is a judgment worthy of such a monarch," said the stranger.

"Father Rubely," said the king, "you who know all the men in this part of my dominions, Do you know any thing of this old man, who refuseth to give account of himself?"

"I have often seen the face," said Rubely; "but I cannot tell at present from whence he is.--Pray, sir, are you not he who has supplied the monastery with cattle for these many moons?"

"I am the same," said the stranger; "And were they not the best that ever were furnished to the Abbey?"

"They were," said Rubely.

"Were they not exquisite and delicious above all food ever before tasted?" said the old man.

"They were indeed," said Rubely; "and I think I have heard it reported that no one ever knew from whence you brought these cattle."

"I knew myself," said the stranger, "and that was sufficient for me."

"I have heard of this before," said the king, "and I think I divine something of the matter. Tell me, I insist on it, from whence you brought these cattle?"

"I brought them from among the poor and the indigent," said the old man, "on whom kings and priests for ever feed. For Christian carrion, I provide food from among themselves."

"They shall all be worried and burnt at the stake," said the king; "and this man's torments shall be doubled."

"Have patience, my lord, O king," said Rubely, "and let us not destroy the reclaimable with those of whom there is no hope." Then going near to the first woman who had lost her son, he said to her,--"It is better to do well late than never--are you content to be baptized even now?"

The woman bowed consent. He put the same question to the other, who bowed likewise. The old man stood close by their side, and appeared to be in great trouble and wrath. Rubely brought his goblet of consecrated water, and, as he past, he threw a portion of it on the wrinkled face of the old man, p.r.o.nouncing, at the same time, the sacred words of baptism.

The whole form and visage of the creature was changed in a moment to that of a furious fiend: He uttered a yell that made all the Abbey shake to its foundations, and forthwith darted away into the air, wrapt in flame; and, as he ascended, he heaved his right hand, and shook his fiery locks at his inquisitors. The old withered beldame yelped forth hysteric gigglings, something between laughing and shrieks--the king fell on his knees, clasped the rood and kissed it--the two women trembled--and even old Rubely counted his beads, and stood for a short s.p.a.ce in mute astonishment. He next proposed trying the same experiment with the old witch lady, but she resisted it so furiously, with cursing and blasphemy, that they abandoned her to her fate, and had her burnt at St Miles's Cross before the going down of the sun. It was said by some that the old stranger appeared among the crowd to witness her latter end; and that she stretched out her hands towards him, with loud supplications, but he only flouted and mocked at her, and seemed to enjoy the sport with great zest. When Father Rubely heard of this, he said that it would happen so to every one who sold themselves to be slaves of sin in the hour of their extremity.

The other two women confessed their sins, and received absolution. They acknowledged that they had been acquainted with the stranger for a long season; that he had often pressed them to sign and seal, which they had always declined, but that nevertheless he had such an influence over them, that he in a manner led them as he pleased; that at first they took him for a venerable apostle, but at length discovered that he was a powerful sorcerer, and could turn people into the shapes of such beasts as he pleased, but that they never knew he was the devil till then.

Friar Rubely a.s.sured them, that it was only such as slighted church-ordinances over whom he was permitted to exert that power, and in this the king pa.s.sionately acquiesced. They confessed farther, that they were still greatly afraid of him, for that he could turn himself into any shape or form that he pleased; that he had often tempted them in the form of a beautiful young man; and there was nothing more common with him than to tempt men in the form of a lovely and bewitching woman, by which means he had of late got many of them into his clutches. When the king heard that, he counted his beads with redoubled fervency, and again kissed the rood, for it reminded him of a lovely vision he had seen of late, as well as some things of a former day. The women added, that the stranger had of late complained grievously of two mongrel spirits, who had opposed and counteracted him in every movement; and that they had done it so effectually, that, for every weak Christian that he had overcome and devoured, they had found means to destroy one of his servants, or emissaries, so that his power in the land remained much upon a par as in former times, although his means and exertions had both been increased sevenfold.[1]

A consultation of holy men was next called, and measures adopted for the recovery of the two children. There it was resolved, that prayers should be offered up for them in seven times seven holy chapels and cells at the same instant of time, and the like number of ma.s.ses said, with all due solemnity; and that then it would be out of the power of all the spirits of the infernal regions--all of them that were permitted to roam the earth, or any of their agents, to detain the children longer, into whatever shape or form they might change them. But for these solemnities some delay was necessary.