Chapter 37 - Page 2

arms, and declare their intention of wielding them in defence of Mary
and the Catholic faith. Not so the Abbot of Saint Mary's. Roland had
not seen this prelate since the night of their escape from Lochleven,
and he now beheld him, robed in the dress of his order, assume his
station near the Queen's person. Roland hastened to pull off his
basnet, and beseech the Abbot's blessing.

"Thou hast it, my son!" said the priest; "I see thee now under thy
true name, and in thy rightful garb. The helmet with the holly branch
befits your brows well--I have long waited for the hour thou shouldst
assume it."

"Then you knew of my descent, my good father?" said Roland.

"I did so, but it was under seal of confession from thy grandmother;
nor was I at liberty to tell the secret, till she herself should make
it known."

"Her reason for such secrecy, my father?" said Roland Avenel.

"Fear, perchance of my brother--a mistaken fear, for Halbert would
not, to ensure himself a kingdom, have offered wrong to an orphan;
besides that, your title, in quiet times, even had your father done
your mother that justice which I well hope he did, could not have
competed with that of my brother's wife, the child of Julian's elder
brother."

"They need fear no competition from me," said Avenel. "Scotland is
wide enough, and there are many manors to win, without plundering my
benefactor. But prove to me, my reverend father, that my father was
just to my mother--show me that I may call myself a legitimate Avenel,
and make me your bounden slave for ever."

"Ay," replied the Abbot, "I hear the Seytons hold thee cheap for that
stain on thy shield. Something, however, I have learnt from the late
Abbot Boniface, which, if it prove sooth, may redeem that reproach."

"Tell me that blessed news," said Roland, "and the future service of
my life--"

"Rash boy!" said the Abbot, "I should but madden thine impatient
temper, by exciting hopes that may never be fulfilled--and is this a
time for them? Think on what perilous march we are bound, and if thou
hast a sin unconfessed, neglect not the only leisure which Heaven may
perchance afford thee for confession and absolution."

"There will be time enough for both, I trust, when we reach
Dunbarton," answered the page.

"Ay," said the Abbot, "thou crowest as loudly as the rest--but we are
not yet at Dunbarton, and there is a lion in the path."

"Mean you Murray, Morton, and the other rebels at Glasgow, my reverend
father? Tush! they dare not look on the royal banner."