Jane Seton; or, The King's Advocate: A Scottish Historical RomanceGrant, James
History
Jane Seton; or, The King's Advocate: A Scottish Historical Romance
Grant, James
Scotland -- History -- James V, 1513-1542 -- Fiction
"Sir Roland Vipont, this claim for the ordeal of battle comes too
late, and cannot be admitted. She has fully and amply confessed;
besides, this man hath found the mark of hell upon her bosom!"
"Her bosom--this man--John Dargavel!" exclaimed Roland, startled on
perceiving the person whom he had compelled to swallow his own poison.
"Nay--no John Dargavel, but a reputable officer of court," said the
president, who felt some compassion for the agony expressed in the
young man's face.
"A villain, who excited the lieges to rebellion in Douglasdale, and
to a resistance of the royal standard, which occasioned me the
killing and wounding of a dozen brave soldiers."
"We have had enough of this," said the president, impatiently; "the
poor youth is so blind with passion, that he would not know a hawk
from the heronshaw. Break up the court. Away, sir! torture hath
been applied, and the ends of justice are satisfied."
"Torture--justice!" reiterated Roland, in a voice like a shriek, and
looking with terror at Jane, who stretched her feeble arms
imploringly towards him. "Lord, Lord, look down upon me, and
preserve my senses. Oh, have ye dared---- Cowards and slaves! is it
justice by rack and torture to wrench confession from the lips of a
poor and helpless woman? Smooth-fronted villains, is there not one
among ye who will dare to take up my gage? Sir William of Balwearie,
Sir John of Lundie, Sir Adam Otterburn of Auldhame, do you hear me?"
Not one of the seven lay senators moved.
"Truly, thou art either a madman or a hero!" said the old president,
gazing on the armed knight with admiration; "but doom hath been
pronounced, and the sorceress must die!"
"_Die!_" repeated Roland, with a fierce smile. "And coldly thou
sayest this? Oh, lord abbot! dastard judge! dost forget that thou
growest old, and a day cometh when thou too shalt die, and be called
to account for this misused authority. Art thou a god to create,
that thou darest thus coolly to destroy; not like a gallant soldier
in the heat of battle--but coldly, calmly, and without anger? But I
see it all now; and though this moment be my last, I will avenge Jane
Seton on Redhall--the angel on the demon! See how the pale coward is
before the brave man! Art thou blanched, Sir Adam, with fear, with
fasting, or remorse? Wretch and villain! who makest use of the laws
to cloak thine own infamous projects of lust, ambition, and revenge;
thus in face of thy deluded compeers, the just God gives thee over to
me--at last--at last I have thee!"
And rushing upon the lord advocate with his long sword drawn back for
a deadly thrust, he had infallibly run him through the body, had not
two of the provost's guard resolutely interposed their halberts, the
heads of which he hewed off by one blow.
"Oh, the fule!" said the host of the _Cross and Gillstoup_, who was
among the crowd. "My thirty crowns! I may whistle on my thumb for
them noo!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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