ALLAN MENTEITH; OK, ST. SWITHIN'S GATE. A SCOTTISH ROMANCE,

Tuapeka Times, Volume II, Issue 83, 11 September 1869, Page 6

ALLAN MENTEITH; OK, ST. SWITHIN'S GATE. A SCOTTISH ROMANCE,

BY R. HAMILTON.

Q He who dares sit in Saint Swithin's chair When the Night Hag wings the troubled air, Questions three, if they speak the spell, He may ask, and she must tell.— Waverley. In- the middle of the fifteenth century, the kingdom of Scotland could not lay claim to the intellectual character for which it is now proverbial among all countries, although, considering its narrow limits and the internal discords with which, for centuries it had been agitated, it had nevertheless produced some master spirits, who will for ever live in the records of genius. But a mental darkness prevailed generally over all classes, and especially among the peasantry. Learning only existed in abbeys and monasteries, and it was the interest of the priesthood to withhold it from the people, the better to enable them to exercise their domination and sensual appetites. Later times have, however, shown us that " knowledge is indeed, power," and that the gown and rosary are regarded with respect, but not terror — that religion is received with a wary yet serious consideration, but that all sectarian intolerancy is rebuked with a fearless spirit. "The Church and State," as! they are coupled in England, are fast parting fclloAvship — tithes, stipends, pluralities, and a host of other clerical impositions, are in many cases now merely nominal, and " the fathers of the church" begin to bow to the supremacy of intellect, and are compelled to confine themselves solely to the duties of their spiritual calling. At the period at which we lay our story, it is well known that the Roman Church was the religion of the land, and that its priests were arrogant and designing in the extreme. The kingdom of Scotland was also divided by civil discord — and the peasantry of its Highlands were the vassals or clansmen of the various chiefs. These were a race entirely destitute of mental culture, and plunged in the lowest depths of superstition — even the chieftains themselves were men of little or no learning, and holding their titles from antiquity of birth and their prowess in arms — yet all more or less tinctured with the superstitions and legends of their country. Allan Menteith, the hero of our story, was the son of a chieftain of that name, whose father dying in his infancy, and the title descending to the eldest son, the care of Allan devolved upon a widowed aunt, who lived on the confines of the Highlands, on a large and wealthy estate. The child, of her sister, and almost the only relative for which she retained an i affection, it is scarcely necessary to j assert, that she indulged his whims and caprices to an unbounded extent, aud by the time that Allan reached the age of manhood, he was addicted to every extravagance and vice that the locality of the place afforded him. Through the interest of his aunt and some powerful relatives, a commission was obtained for him in the army of Queen Mary, where, among the younger branches of the noble families of tfcat period, his heedless propensities were i encouraged and fostered, till they left him so embarrassed, that his frequent calls upon his aunt for pecuniary relief were ultimately met with a refusal. His credit gone, his desires ungratified, he felt reckless of all around him, and hesitated not at any sacrifice to pro- j cure the means to carry out vis -views. j At one period he had become acquainted with Murdoch M'lvor, a man of dissolute habits, and. who for many years had been known in the neighbourhood where his aunt resided as one of the most daring caterans or freebooters which the Highlands held. ; This individual had been once strongly I suspected of having committed a robbery on the premises of Lady Alice, Allan's aunt, and although iif could not be brought directly home to him, he having contrived to effect his escape, yet it was firmly believed he was the robber, and indeed such was actually the fact, for in connivance with Allan he had been admitted into the premises, and the most valuable pieces of ; family plate extracted and converted into money, which the two had shared between them. M'lvor had thus the young Highlander completely in his power, and whenever he found himself in difficulty he applied for aid to Mian, which if refused, he threatened I to reveal the robbery to hia aunt. I Eor above two years had M'lvor thus held his victim in the thrall, and instead of abating in his demands, was only the more importunate and greedy. A sudden cessation of hostilities about this time had given the young soldier an opportunity to pay a visit to Ms aunt, and he felt grateful, if for nothing else, he should for a short period thus escape from the presence and demands of the villain, M'lvor. A brief rebuke from his affectionate aunt for his extravagenee w& 3 a & that be received, and her heayfc wag as open to him as ever. For many months he had resided at the home of his childhood, enjoying the sports of the field, and regarded by all the tenantry of his relatives witu respect and kindness — while his winning manners and bold handsome figure were admirably calculated to make a favourable impression upon $c maidens qf the neigh-

bourhood — yet there was ever a thoughful and moody expression upon his features— his eye, dark as the wing of the raven, was never steadily fixed J upon any one object, but its constant j wandering betrayed a mind that was ill at ease — yet withal he was a manly and gallant youth. His costume was that of the Highlander of those times. The tartan kilt which came to the knee, betrayed the proportions of a limb worthy of an Appollo ; his coat, of the same material, cut so as to expose his neck, which was of exquisite symmetry, and when not browned by the sun of summer, was as white as the snows of his native mountains. His features were of just and beautiful proportion ; Ms hair was of the hue of the yellow harvest while the peaked Gaelic bonnet, plumed with the wing of the eaglo, surmounted a brow broad and smooth. The checkered hose, which rose midway above his ankles, were fastened with garters of crimson ribands, a brogue of russet leather encased each foot, clasped by large silver buckles — while over all was thrown, m graceful negligence, a plaid of ample dimensions. Thus equipped, of him it might be said — "So stately his form so noble his face, That never a hall such a galliard did grace ;" or rather, never were the heather breasts of his mountains trodden by a nobler form.

Among the youthful beauties of Grlenlyon valley, was one who was esteemed the gem of maiden loveliness, Catherine Graham. On her had Allan in his days of boyhood looked kindly, and now that he was returned a man and a soldier, he deemed that the simple heart of the maiden would be easily captivated—but pure affection reigned not in his bosom, vice had sapped it to the foundation, aud deep and dark designs against her innocence were by him meditated. In vain did he seek to win her ear, in vain did he vow that she was his only idol, but the maiden had already plighted her vows, in the presence of heaven, to Donald Kenmure^ cousin of Allan, and also a dependant on the bounty of Lady Alice. Indignant at thus being foiled in his machinations, a deep and deadly hatred took possession of his heart, and he resolved to blight the character of his cousin in the eyes of his aunt, and thus, if possible, accomplish tho easier his design upon the maiden. To effect this, he one night entered the chamber of his aunt while she was bound in slumber, and boro from it a valuable bracelet, the gift of her deceased husband, at the same time dropping behind him the bonnet of Donald, so that suspicion was naturally enough fastened upon the poor youth, who being accused of the theft, and although no other evidence of guilt could be produced against him, save the circumstance of his bonnet having been found in the apartment, he was condemned and committed to prison. - Poor Catherine, almost heart-broken, and knowing well that her lover was innocent, pleaded hard with the Lady Alice for pardon, but the apparent ingratitude of the youth made her deaf to all entreaty, and so, as a last resource, she condescended to make application to Allan to use his interest in behalf of his poor cousin. " On one condition," replied he, " I will. Transfer your affections from Donald to me, and I will prerail upon my aunt; to procure his release from prison." The eyes of Catherine flashed with contempt, the blood mounted to her face,' and her whole frame shook with indignation. " Mean, contemptible being ! " she exclaimed, " none but one who is unworthy of any woman's hand would dace to proffer such terms to an affianced maiden. What! exchange virtue for vice, truth for deceit, honour for disgrace ? Never ! sooner Avould I link myself to the festering remnants of mortality, and be entombed alive, than exchange my Donald's love for the cold and selfish heart that beats within thy bosom ; " and rushing from the apartment, she left Allan confounded and speechless. . He was standing in that position when a servant entered and placed a packet in his hand. He started when he beheld the superscription. "Ah ! 'tis from Murdoch ! " he exclaimed, and staggered breathless to a char. For some minutes he sat with his eyes fixed vacantly upon it, then mechanically broke fche seal, and read as follows :—: —

" It is already three weeks past the appointed time when I was to have received the money which you promised—hut you thought by flying from the city you would avoid me — 'twas a vain thought — oceans cannot part us. The deepest solitude, on earth cannot hide you from my searching eye. We are bound together by the indissoluble ties of crime, and when one falls so must the other. I am now in the neighbourhood. In two days I shall expect the promised stipend — you will find me at the Bine Crag, leyond St. Swithin's Gaye — if you fail me, infamy will claim thee for its own."

There was no signature, but too well did Allan know the hand, and the truth of its contents. " Horror ! "he exclaimed, (< I am in the coils of the serpent — 'tis in vain to struggle, I must bow to my destiny — but how to acquire the sum ? lam almost penniless — and to ask my aunt would but incur her censure, knowiug well that I have here no temptation to cause any waste of money — yet he must be satisfied at every hazard — but how? by \yhafc means?" and. lie glanced^ hjs

eyes around the apartment as if seeking to find an unexpected treasure — at length they alighted upon a large iron chest. "Ah! the fiend is ever witb the wicked," he exclaimed ; " that box has stood my friend already — Murdoch and I have revelled joyously upon its contents — it must serve me again ; but how to procure the key ? " and he paused, as if communing with himself the means how to obtain it.

At that moment a flash of lightning, followed by a loud peal of thunder, roused him from his reverie. "Ah ! the heavens- are warning me against the deed," he oried. " I will geek Murdoch and brave the worst. But where, where is he to be found? " and he looked again at the letter. "At the Pine Crag, beyond St. Swithin's Gave!" " St. Swithin's Cave ! " he murmured to himself, then started, as if some sudden thought had flashed across his brain. '*The time — the hour. Tes, yes, my star is propitious ; to-night I will seek the page of futurity. 'Tis the eve of Hallowmas ; and according to the legend of the cave, the mortal who is bold enough to speak the charm shall find three answers to three questions. If I remember rightly, 'tis thus runs the legend — " He who dare 3 sit in St. SwitluVs chair, When the Night Hag wings the troubled air, Questions three, if speaks the spell, He may ask, and she must tell. Yes ! by the fiends of darkness, I will dare to know my fate. 'Tis already evening — the clouds are full of storm — no prying fool wilt bo abroad to mark my movements, and unseen I may seek the council of the hag. If it be good, then shall I be happy, and life will bo worth living for— if evil, why then I know the worst, and better to be mouldering in my grave than to live upon the rack of dread uncertainty —to feel the harpy of crime for ever gnawing at my heart, aud know that I am at the mercy of a villian, Yes, this moment will I seek her counsel," and he rushed from "the apartment, pale, haggard, and desperate The rain fell iv torrents. The heavens were wrapped in the sheeted lightning, and the artillery of heaven rolled louder and louder, as if thundering their vengeance against him who sought to penetrate the secrets of fU' turifcy.

(To be concluded in our next,)