CHAPTER XLVIII. THE CROSS AND GILLSTOUP. "But the curtain of twilight o'ershadows the shore, And deepens the tint on the blue Lammermuir; The tints on Corstorphine have paled in their fire, But sunset still lingers with gold on its spire; The Roseberry forests are hooded in grey, And night, like his heir, treads impatient on day-- And now, gentle stranger, if such be thy mood, Go welcome the moonlight in sweet Holyrood." On the night, with which our last chapters have been chiefly occupied, at the identical time when Father St. Bernard was concerting with the cardinal, anent procuring a pardon for Lady Jane, two other kind friends were elsewhere concerting the escape of her lover--but planning it like soldiers, by escalade and at point of the sword. In the course of the present history we have, more than once, referred to a certain flourishing tavern, named _The Cross and Gillstoup_, which, in those days, displayed its signboard to the public eye on the south side of the then somewhat suburban street, the Canongate. Though the host of this establishment was vitally interested in the freedom of the master of king James's ordnance, in so far that he owed him the sum of thirty crowns for wine, it was not deemed advisable to take him into the conspiracy. In a little chamber of this tavern, vaulted, like all the first stories in old Edinburgh, having a sanded floor, a plain wooden table, and fir chairs of capacious dimensions, a little figure of the Madonna in a corner, beneath which was a begging-box, belonging to the Franciscans, inscribed, "Help ye puir, as ye wald God dit you," sat Sir John Forrester, captain of the king's arquebusiers, and Leslie of Balquhan, his lieutenant; though it was past the hour of nine, when, by the laws of James I., no man was to be found in a tavern after that hour rang from the burgh bell, under a penalty of warding in the Tolbooth, or paying "the king's chamberlane fiyftie schillinges." Being gentlemen, and moreover officers of the guard, these two cavaliers considered themselves above such vulgar rules, and were quietly sitting down to supper. Their bonnets and mantles, their unbuckled swords and daggers, lay on a side bench; each had a knife and platter of delft ware, with a silver-rimmed drinking-horn, before him; and between them stood a savoury powt pie, with a great pewter jug of wine, the said pewter jug being polished to the brightness of a mirror; and Leslie used it as such, to point up his moustaches; for the hostess of _The Cross and Gillstoup_ prided herself particularly on the brightness of her pots and kettles--and then, be it remembered, pewter was a luxury.