The Three Perils of Man; or, War, Women, and Witchcraft, Vol. 1 (of 3)Hogg, James
History
The Three Perils of Man; or, War, Women, and Witchcraft, Vol. 1 (of 3)
Hogg, James
Historical fiction; Scotland -- History -- Robert II, 1371-1390 -- Fiction
Douglas could scarcely contain his gravity at this rhapsody, weening it
the frantic remonstrance of a love-sick maid; but she, perceiving the
bent and tenor of his disposition, held up her hand as a check to his
ill-timed levity. "Unhappy chief!" exclaimed she, "Little art thou aware
what a gulf of misery and despair thou art suspended over, and that by a
single thread within reach of the flame, and liable every moment to
snap, and hurl thee into inevitable ruin. Know, and to thyself alone be
it known, that that page was no other than the princess of Scotland
herself; who, impelled by romantic affection, came in that disguise to
attend thee in all thy perils, undertaken for her sake. It was she
herself who seized her rival, and placed her in your hands, thus giving
you an advantage which force could not bestow. And from time to time has
she laid such injunctions on you, written and delivered by her own hand,
as she judged conducive to your honour or advantage. If you suffer that
inestimable lady to lye in durance, or one hair of her head to fall to
the ground, after so many marks of affection and concern for you, you
are unworthy of lady's esteem, of the titles you bear, or the honour of
knighthood."
When the lady first came out with the fatal secret, and mentioned the
princess's name, Douglas strode hastily across the floor of the
pavilion, as if he would have run out at the door, or rather fallen
against it; but the motion was involuntary; he stopped short, and again
turned round to the speaker, gazing on her as if only half comprehending
what she said. The truth of the assertion opened to him by degrees; and,
it may well be supposed, the intelligence acted upon his mind and frame
like a shock of electricity. He would fain have disbelieved it, had he
been able to lay hold of a plausible pretext to doubt it; but every
recollected circumstance coincided in the establishment of the unwelcome
fact. All that he could say to the lady, as he stood like a statue
gazing her in the face, was, "Who art thou?"
"I am Mary Kirkmichael of Balmedie," said she, "and I came with the
princess, disguised as her attendant. I am her friend and confidant, and
we held communication every day, till of late that my dear mistress
discontinued her visits. O captain, tell me if it is in your power to
save her!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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