The monastery; The abbot.

482 WAVERLEY NOVELS.
million of years ere I saw the light, must be executed by me. She hath
that in her veins that, I fear me, will soon stop the springs of life."
" Cruel villain," exclaimed the Lady, " thou hast not poisoned her?"
"And if I had," said Dryfesdale, "what does it so greatly merit? Men
bane vermin-why not rid them of their enemies so? in Italy they will do
it for a cruizuedor."
"Cowardly ruffian, begone from my sight!"
"Think better of my zeal, Lady," said the steward, "and judge not
without looking around you. Lindesay, Ruthven, and your kinsman Morton, poniarded Rizzio, and yet you now see no blood on their embroidery
-the Lord Semple stabbed the Lord of Sanquhar- does his bonnet sit a
jot more awry on his brow? What noble lives in Scotland who has not
had a share, for policy or revenge, in some such dealing? —and who imputes it to them? Be not cheated with names-a dagger or a draught
work to the same end, and are little unlike- a glass phial imprisons the
one, and a leathern sheath the other —one deals with the brain, the other
sluices the blood -Yet, I say not I gave aught to this lady."
"What dost thou mean by thus dallying with me?" said the Lady; "as
thou wouldst save thy neck from the rope it merits, tell me the whole truth
of this story-thou hast long been known a dangerous man."
" Ay, in my master's service I can be cold and sharp as my sword. Be
it known to you, that when last on shore, I consulted with a woman of skill
and power, called Nicneven, of whom the country has rung for some brief
time past. Fools asked her for charms to make them beloved, misers for
means to increase their store; some demanded to know the future-an idle
wish, since it cannot be altered; others would have an explanation of the
past —idler still, since it cannot be recalled. I heard their queries with
scorn, and demanded the means of avenging myself of a deadly enemy, for
I grow old, and may trust no longer to Bilboa blade. She gave me a packet
-' Mix that,' said she,'with any liquid, and thy vengeance is complete. "
"Villain! and you mixed it with the food of this imprisoned Lady, to
the dishonour of thy master's house?"
"To redeem the insulted honour of my naster's house, I mixed the contents of the packet with the jar of succory-water: They seldom fail to drain
it, and the woman loves it over all."
"It was a work of hell," said the Lady Lochleven, "both the asking and
the granting. - Away, wretched man, let us see if aid be yet too late!"
"They will not admit us, madam, save we enter by force I have been
twice at the door, but can obtain no entrance."
"We will beat it level with the ground, if needful -And, hold - summon Randal hither instantly. -Randal, here is a foul and evil chance
befallen —send off a boat instantly to Kinross, the Chamberlain Luke
Lundin is said to have skill- Fetch off, too, that foul witch Nicneven; she
shall first counteract her own spell, and then be burned to ashes in the
island of Saint Serf. Away, away -Tell them to hoist sail and ply oar, as
ever they would have good of the Douglas's hand!"
"Mother Nicneven will not.be lightly found, or fetched hither on these
conditions," answered Dryfesdale.
"Then grant her full assurance of safety - Look to it, for thine own life
must answer for this lady's recovery."
"I might have guessed that," said Dryfesdale, sullenly; "but it is my
comfort I have avenged mine own cause, as well as yours. She hath scoffed
and scripped at me, and encouraged her saucy minion of a page to ridicule
my stiff gait and slow speech. I felt it borne in upon me that I was to be
avenged on them."
"Go to the western turret," said the Lady, "and remain there in ward
until we see how this gear will terminate. I know thy resolved disposition
- thou wilt not attempt escape."