The monastery; The abbot.

THE ABBOT. 529
fly not thus cowardly, nor dishonour the cognizance thou deservest not to
wear!-Halt, sir coward, or by Heaven, I will strike thee with my lance on
the back, and slay thee like a dastard-I am the Knight of Avenel-I am
Halbert Glendinning."
But Roland, who had no purpose of encountering his old master, and
who, besides, knew the Queen's safety depended on his making the best
speed he could, answered not a word to the defiances and reproaches which
Sir Halbert continued to throw out against him; but making the best use
of his spurs, rode yet harder than before, and had gained about a hundred
yards upon his pursuer, when, coming near to the yew-tree where he had
left the Queen, he saw them already getting to horse, and cried out as loud
as he could, "Foes! foes! -Ride for it, fair ladies-Brave gentlemen, do
your devoir to protect them!"
So saying, he wheeled his horse, and avoiding the shock of Sir Halbert
Glendinning, charged one of that Knight's followers, who was nearly on a
line with him, so rudely with his lance, that he overthrew horse and man.
He then drew his sword and attacked the second, while the black man-atarms, throwing himself in the way of Glendinning, they rushed on each
other so fiercely, that both horses were overthrown, and the riders lay rolling
on the plain. Neither was able to arise, for the black horseman was pierced
through with Glendinning's lance, and the Knight of Avenel, oppressed
with the weight of his own horse and sorely bruised besides, seemed in little
better plight than he whom he had mortally wounded.
"Yield thee, Sir Knight of Avenel, rescue or no rescue," said Roland, who
had put a second antagonist out of condition to combat, and hastened to prevent Glendinning from renewing the conflict.
"I may not choose but yield," said Sir Halbert, "since I can no longer
fight; but it shames me to speak such a word to a coward like thee i"
"Call me not coward," said Roland, lifting his visor, and helping his
prisoner to rise, " since but for old kindness at thy hands, and yet more at
thy lady's, I had met thee as a brave man should."
"The favourite page of my wife!" said Sir Halbert, astonished; "Ah!
wretched boy, I have heard of thy treason at Lochleven."
" Reproach him not, my brotheri" said the Abbot, "he was but an agent
in the hands of Heaven."
"To horse, to horse!" said Catherine Seyton; " mount and begone, or we
are all lost. I see our gallant army flying for many a league —To horse,
my Lord Abbot —To horse, Roland —my gracious Liege, to horse! Ere
this, we should have ridden many a mile."
" Look on these features," said Mary, pointing to the dying knight, who
had been unhelmed by some compassionate hand; "look there, and tell me
if she who ruins all who love her, ought to fly a foot farther to save her
wretched life!"
The reader must have long anticipated the discovery which the Qpeen's
feelings had made before her eyes confirmed it. It was the features of the
unhappy George Douglas, on which death was stamping his mark.
"Look look at him well," said the Queen, "thus has it been with all
who loved Mary Stewart! —The royalty of Francis, the wit of Chastelar,
the power and gallantry of the gay Gordon, the melody of Rizzio, the portly
form and youthful grace of Darnley, the bold address and courtly manners
of Bothwell - and now the deep-devoted passion of the noble Douglasnought could save them! - they looked on the wretched Mary, and to have
loved her was crime enough to deserve early death! No sooner had the
victim formed a kind thought of me, than the poisoned cup, the axe andblock, the dagger, the mine, were ready to punish them for casting away
affection on such a wretch as I am!-Importune me not —I will fly no
farther I can die but once, and I will die here."
While she spoke, her tears fell fast on the face of the dying man, who
VOL. V.-34 2u