Chapter 23 - Page 2

quicksands; its verdure fair and inviting
to the eye, but the wreck of many a goodly vessel which hath
approached it too rashly. But for thee, my son, I fear nought; and we
may not, with our honour, suffer her to eat without the attendance of
one of us. She may die by the judgment of Heaven, or the fiend may
have power over her in her despair; and then we would be touched in
honour to show that in our house, and at our table, she had had all
fair play and fitting usage."

Here Roland was interrupted by a smart tap on the shoulders, reminding
him sharply of Adam Woodcock's adventure of the preceding evening. He
turned round, almost expecting to see the page of Saint Michael's
hostelry. He saw, indeed, Catherine Seyton; but she was in female
attire, differing, no doubt, a great deal in shape and materials from
that which she had worn when they first met, and becoming her birth as
the daughter of a great baron, and her rank as the attendant on a
princess. "So, fair page," said she, "eaves-dropping is one of your
page-like qualities, I presume."

"Fair sister," answered Roland, in the same tone, "if some friends of
mine be as well acquainted with the rest of our mystery as they are
with the arts of swearing, swaggering, and switching, they need ask no
page in Christendom for farther insight into his vocation."

"Unless that pretty speech infer that you have yourself had the
discipline of the switch since we last met, the probability whereof I
nothing doubt, I profess, fair page, I am at a loss to conjecture your
meaning. But there is no time to debate it now--they come with the
evening meal. Be pleased, Sir Page, to do your duty."

Four servants entered bearing dishes, preceded by the same stern old
steward whom Roland had already seen, and followed by George Douglas,
already mentioned as the grandson of the Lady of Lochleven, and who,
acting as seneschal, represented, upon this occasion, his father, the
Lord of the Castle. He entered with his arms folded on his bosom, and
his looks bent on the ground. With the assistance of Roland Graeme, a
table was suitably covered in the next or middle apartment, on which
the domestics placed their burdens with great reverence, the steward
and Douglas bending low when they had seen the table properly adorned,
as if their royal prisoner had sat at the board in question. The door
opened, and Douglas, raising his eyes hastily, cast them again on the
earth, when he perceived it was only the Lady Mary Fleming who
entered.

"Her Grace," she said, "will not eat to-night."

"Let us hope she may be otherwise persuaded," said Douglas; "meanwhile,
madam, please to see